#cursed family gatherings
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greywoe ¡ 11 months ago
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happy holidays -_-
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atv-migrated ¡ 8 months ago
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@ravenblccded sent : “I can assure you, Princess, my intentions with Myella are pure. It isn’t dragons or Targaryen blood I chase after, but her heart. Whatever opinions you have of me, I hope I can change them to good ones.”
rhaenyra knew they needed support from the smaller houses as much as support from the great houses. they could not depend on the houses to fall in line with the great houses, not anymore. still, myella's agreeing to marriage to willem blackwood came as a surprise to her. the riverlands were so far away. she couldn't imagine the appeal, but then again she had her sights set on what was her's by rights. "i should hope so," she was doing her best to be...supportive though. "i've much experience spotting a suitor with his eyes on what our family can provide." she smiled, hoping to lighten the mood a bit with a joke.
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ivyithink ¡ 2 years ago
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the happy royal family of mercia (+ aethelred is also there)
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datastate ¡ 6 months ago
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i need to stop being nervous abt speaking other languages on here TT_TT
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darewolfcreates ¡ 1 year ago
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family FrostyFest trips <3
#dont you love family christmas trips when you all gather around the table to prossess the deer your cousin shot?#(the answer is no we dont me and my siblings all hid upstairs to avoid it)#these are a collection of drawings representing some of me and my siblings shanagins over our trip to our grandparents for christmas brake..#should i post these dureing the hollidays?.. yeah probobly... will i remeber? oh god no. so im posting these now!#last comic explained: there was some trimmings from the carcius that whould be tossed in the woods later but for now we needed it off the#gator so we chould use it to haul around rocks.#none of us wanted to carry the meat...#first comic explained: we were packing to go to the farm. i made a funny that my mom found very not funny.#drawing too was me working on a recreation of my siblings and I as we hid from the rest of the family. originally i didnt include my older#bother but after i showed it to the gang i was convinced to expand it to include him#this is a 1 for 1 of how we were all sitting.#you will see this room again later in a pokemon au i did.#i sleep on the bed on the left. it used to be my moms bed when she was a kid. funny enough both of us have had nightmares of something#comeing up the stairs becuse there is no door between the stairs and the kids room.#so the bed is slightly cursed but i cant sleep anywhere else so i dont really care honnestly.#my art#splatoon art#videogame art#splatoon#videogames#frostyfest#comic#splatoon comic#videogame comic#ALSO SHOUT OUT TO MY OLDER BROTHER WHO IS GLAZEING MY WORK FOR ME :D#he got fed up with watching me boil my laptop and offered to glaze my art on his pc with dedicated ram and a graphics card.#:]#to differentiate my brothers: younger has shorter bangs and my older longer bangs and back tenticals tucked#this is not comprhensive of all siblings#these are just the ones ive drawn
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mousfri ¡ 8 months ago
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well apart from the autism and associated comorbidities, there's the generational fear of dark enclosed places, even ones we're familiar with (less curse, more ominous warning, methinks)
oh that and the curse of Houses with God Awful Vibes thing. i've lived in almost as many houses as years i've been alive, once in a repurposed asylum where i was sick the entire time i lived there, routinely found unexplained dead animals and weird smells, and the automatic lights would turn on IN AN ALARMED BUILDING while we were all away. the place was massive, and we lived in four rooms on the bottom floor, so we'd do sweeps with the Corpse Shovel and never found anyone.
the house i lived in two houses ago was genuinely the worst place i've ever lived. i'd get freaked out standing in the back garden in the sun. i'm moved out now, but my mum moved next door to that house, and i don't get any of the sudden bursts of paranoia that i used to get on the other side of the fence the houses share. i was convinced i was mad until my aunt came to visit and had the exact same reaction as i always did.
other examples: my nan is convinced my first home was haunted, my aunt outright refused to enter that ex-asylum, my uncle didn't buy his dream house because it felt off, my grandparents attempted to downsize and had the same issue.
this is less of a curse and more of a strange medical thing, but a bunch of us have got really minor birth defects. my mum's middle finger knuckles are about an inch further back than they should be so her middle fingers are her shortest. i've got one detached ear lobe and one attached earlobe. one of my,,, cousins once removed??? (matthew who Gives The Best Hugs) has the same deal as my mum but his toes.
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enigmaris ¡ 2 months ago
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DPxDC idea that has been floating around my head for a few months now:
Gotham, given its whole... thing with Lazurus Pools and general bad vibes, has a ghostly representative. Lady Gotham, when she bothers to be coporeal, looks like an influential lady from the 1920s, straight art deco elegance. A real classy girl.
Jazz is touring college campuses around the US. She has full ride offers from Gotham University, Metroplis College, and Star City State, to name a few. Danny, upon hearing that his sister is going to GOTHAM of all cities, decides he is going on this trip with her. He might be only 15, but his big sister isn't getting mugged while he has half an afterlife left to live!
Lady Gotham is all a flutter! Why the last ghost king was so frumpy! King Phantom is so handsome and powerful, and he is coming to her city. She absolutely has to show off her best side! She feels like a teenaged girl getting her home ready before a new beau comes to visit. She's flustered, she's nervous.
Meanwhile, John Constatine wakes up with cosmic alarm bells going off because something really, really bad is happening. He investigates to dicsover that for the past three days Gotham has not had a single crime.
No murders, muggings, hell not even a single jay walker!
Gotham the most cursed place on the North Or South American continent is suddenly more squeaky clean than whatever small farm town Superman grew up in.
No crimes, no smog in the air. Crime Lords seemingly gone in a puff of smoke, Assassins asleep in their beds.
Its so freaky. Even Batman is spooked and he is never spooked by anything.
Constantine is certain some demon or other nefarious being is harnessing Gothams cursed energy for some evil plot. Gathering the power to use it like a nuclear blast. Batman is concerned about mass mind control.
Lady Gotham is doing the metaphysical equivalent of hiding all of your stuff in a closet before a guest comes over because you dont have time to actually clean. She had to shoulder the thing closed! She just knows that when the lock fails there will be a huge mess.
Jazz and her family are just surprised about how nice Gotham U's campus is. She'd heard it was so dark and dangerous, but everyone is smiling and pleasant to her! Danny is just happy Jazz is safe from various villains.
So we have Batman investigating his rogues gallery for mind control plots, Constatine hunting for demons, Jazz and her family taking a walking tour of Gotham U, and Lady Gotham using every bit of her ghostly powers to make sure her damned, cursed city doesnt embarrass her in front of her crush!
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s0dium ¡ 4 months ago
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I fucking hate him
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A/n: One of the dialogues is lightly taken from "God of Ruin" by Rina Kentaken (plz check it out) Enjoy!!
Word count: 3.5k
Synopsis: You detest Yuji's uncle, Sukuna. His demeanor is rude and abrasive, and he is undoubtedly a sadist. You don't even try to hide your disdain, but the more you try to distance yourself from him, the stronger his opposition grows. Each attempt to push him away only seems to draw him in closer, closer, ever so close.
"You're fucking insufferable," you spat, your eyes narrowing with hatred. "You're pretentious," Sukuna shot back, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth." No, you're a narcissist," you hiss" Yeah, but I turn you on," he purrs
Warning: Hate sex, rough sex, biting, fingering, edging, cowgirl, size kink, breeding, unprotected sex, slight voyeurism, breeding
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You remember the day you met Sukuna for the first time like it was yesterday.
It was during the somber occasion of Wasuke Itadori's funeral—Yuji's beloved grandfather. The day was draped in a heavy sorrow; after the ceremony and the lowering of the casket, you followed the Itadori family back to their home. Being practically family yourself, and living just next door, it felt natural to join them and if not grieve, support the grieving family alongside them. While everyone gathered in the garden, sharing hushed memories and quiet support, you slipped inside the house to charge your phone.
As you stepped into the room, the air felt suddenly charged, like the prelude to a storm. There in the living room, was a man, a large man, lounging on one of the sofas dressed in a black suit and tie. The first thing you notice is his striking pink hair contrasting sharply with the dark, intricate tattoos that crawl up his neck and frame his face. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, fix on you the moment you enter, and his smirk is like a crack in a mask of indifference.
"You must be the famous dear friend of the family, Y/n right?" he drawls, his voice as smooth as silk and just as dangerous. "Heard a lot about you. All good things, I promise." His voice drips with sarcasm making you thickly gulp.
You hesitate by the doorway, your initial smile freezing on your lips. This was the Sukuna Ryomen? The man you'd heard only in hushed conversations between Jin and Choso, the man Yuji calls his uncle? You try to muster your composure, crossing the room to stand at a respectable distance.
"I wish I could say the same," you reply, aiming for polite but firm. Your voice wavers just slightly.
Sukuna chuckles, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. "Oh, come now. No need for such defenses. I'm not the monster they painted in their tales. Or perhaps I am, and that's what intrigues you? What do you think so far" he bends forward. "Am I intriguing?"
You bristle at his words, the arrogance dripping from each syllable like poison. "I-I dont know about that." You curse yourself at the way your voice comes out as a stutter. "I'm here out of respect for your family."
"Respect," he repeats, tasting the word as if it's something exotic. "Funny, I never put much stock in that. The old man sure tried to teach me, shame he is gone. But perhaps you'll teach me its value?"
What the hell does he mean by that?
He stands suddenly, closing the distance between you with a few measured steps. You can’t help but step back, your back hitting the wall. His presence is overwhelming, suffocating.
"Why so tense?" Sukuna teases, leaning close, his breath ghosting over your cheek. "I'm just trying to get to know you better. After all, anyone who loves my family must have some redeeming qualities, hidden though they may be. Although," he tilts his head, as if analyzing you. "I wouldn't be surprised if they just kept you around cause you're a pretty thing to look at."
You feel a flush of anger and embarrassment heating your cheeks. "I think you've gotten to know enough for one day," you snap, ducking under his arm and striding toward the door. His laughter follows you, low and mocking.
"Oh, don't be like that!" he calls out. "We're just getting started!"
It only took a minute. One minute for you to decide that you hated Sukuna with a fucking passion.
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Unfortunately, the fact that Sukuna had just gotten out of jail, did nothing to hamper your hatred. It seemed like ever since he got out, he was not only determined to stick to the family, but to you, like glue.
The Friday night dinners with the Itadori family, once cherished and loved, had practically turned into a battleground. What used to be a warm gathering was now filled with endless teasing and arrogant attempts at flirting. You were even hesitant to stay over now, as you were never to sure when you’d turn a corner and there Sukuna would be with some sleazy remark about your pajamas.
You tried talking to the Itadori family about it, tried complaining to Jin and raise your concerns. And as receptive and understanding as they were, you knew that for them, blood was thicker than anything, and in some part, you knew that applied to you too.
Still, you persisted, even now as you sat at another Friday dinner you were determined to just enjoy yourself with the family you loved so much.
Key word, tried.
"Well, Jin, I must say, this food is... quaint.” He says through a chuckle and you have to bite the inside of your cheek from throwing a fork at him right there and then. “Did you burn it on purpose, or was that just a happy accident?"
"Dude," You breathe a sigh of relief when Choso speaks up, his voice calm but firm. "Can you go one day without being a jerk?" His eyes are fixed on Sukuna, echoing the frustration you both share about his behavior. This solidarity is one of the reasons why you feel closest to Choso in the family. His understanding and shared grievances with the insufferable man were one of the reasons why you two were best friends.
"Please, I bet this food beats anything you had in prison." You whisper under your breath, but audibly enough that others catch it when you hear Choso breathe through his nose in a laugh-like snort.
Sukuna sets down his silverware and leans forward with a grin, his eyebrows raised in amusement as he gazes across the table at you. "Oh, someone's got a sharp tongue," he remarks. "Careful, angel, you might cut yourself."
You roll your eyes and sharply cross your arms. "Funny, coming from someone who probably had to beg for scraps behind bars. Do you even know what real food tastes like?"
You don’t miss the way Yuji chokes on his pasta, stifling back laughter making you smile.
Sukuna's lips curve into a sly smirk as he locks eyes with you. "Oh trust me, I've tasted a lot of things. But I guess you wouldn't understand, being so... sheltered."
Unfazed, you shoot back with a dismissive wave of your hand, "Sheltered? Please. At least I don’t need to rely on prison slop to remind me of home."
This time, Sukuna's response is a silent, piercing stare that makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Even though you were wearing a sweater and shorts, his gaze made you feel like you were naked.
From the corner, Jin clears his throat, chuckling nervously. "Um, maybe we should all just calm down a bit—"
You cut him off, your voice firm as you defend the meal laid out before you. “No way, not when he disrespects your food, which is great, may I add.”
"Oh, I love it when you get all fired up." Sukuna's eyes glint with mischief as he watches your rising frustration. "It's adorable."
Feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, you stand up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a scrape. "Excuse me, I think I'm full," you declare crisply, gathering your dishes with a clatter and storming off to the kitchen to dump them in the sink. Without a backward glance, you stride toward the living room, your footsteps echoing your irritation.
"Come on, why do you always gotta be such an ass, Uncle?" Yuji mumbles, shooting a glare at Sukuna who only responds with a shrug.
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As you sank into the couch cushions, you let out a deep sigh of relief, your body sinking into the familiar comfort of your favorite spot. You turned on the TV, dazedly watching whatever was on, trying to distract yourself from the day's tensions. Of course, thoughts of Sukuna kept creeping into your mind. What was his problem with you? Did the man get dropped on the head as a baby? How and the hell were he and Jin brothers?? Surely he was the result of some fucked up science experiment.
Engulfed in your thoughts, the passage of time slipped unnoticed until a shift in the couch's cushion snapped you back to reality. You turned, and -
Oh what the fuck.
Sukuna settled next to you, leaning on the armrest of the other side of the couch, a tattooed hand settled on his thigh, He had changed into a white tank top and sweatpants, and you feel your heart jump when your eyes unconsciously travel to between his leg where a slight budge pressed against the fabric. Shit. The tips of your ears turned red and you bit the inside of your cheek. That's another thing you loathed about Sukuna; how the scent of his old spice shampoo made you dizzy, how the way he towered over you made your breathing stop, how despite how fucking insufferable he was, he was so so so attractive.
"What the hell are you doing here?" you choked out, your tone edged with disbelief and irritation.
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "What does it look like? Watching TV," he replied coolly, his eyes briefly scanning the screen before settling back on you. "Everyone's gone to sleep, you know."
"No, what are you doing sitting next to me?" you hissed, the proximity suddenly feeling far too close despite the physical distance. Your eyes narrowed, locking onto his vermillion eyes.
"Why you afraid I'll bite?" He says, gnashing his teeth together in a teasing display before moving closer to you. "Don't worry, I only bite when I'm asked."
"S-stop talking to me like that," you say, trying to shuffle back, but find yourself already trapped against the armrest.
"Like what?" Sukuna's voice is teasing, almost playful.
"Like I'm your toy."
He tilts his head slightly and leans forward, a smirk playing at his lips. "More like my doll."
"More like your grim reaper. I'll slice your throat if you touch me," you retort sharply, the tension between you crackling. You watch the way his eyes rake over you like a porn magazine, making you cross your arms as if to shield yourself.
He laughs, a sound rich with amusement. "You're such a menace. I want to gobble you up."
As he inches closer, the scent of his shampoo fills the air—a fragrance so intoxicating you want to bury your nose in it, yet you resist. "I'll give you indigestion, asshole," you snap, trying to maintain your composure.
"Worth it, muse," he counters smoothly, his eyes locking onto yours.
"Sure you're going to be thinking about that when I punch you in the face?"
"Oh, and make me bleed? Blood?" He licks his lips. "Yum." He feigns shock, leaning even closer. "You just keep ticking all my boxes today. Did you do your research on me?"
"Not even if you were the last man alive," you choke out, his proximity overwhelming, his face just inches from yours now. A slight move, and your noses would brush against each other.
"Last man to everyone else? No. To you? Highly likely." His whisper is a taunt, his breath a warm tease against your skin.
That's it.
As you attempt to rise from the couch, Sukuna's large hand swiftly lands on your thigh, pressing just firmly enough to guide you back down onto the cushion. You react instinctively, trying to swat his hand away, but he's quicker; he catches both of your wrists in his grasp, holding them gently yet with an unyielding firmness.
"What the hell are you doing?" you demand, your voice sharp with alarm and a flare of anger, your eyes locked intensely on his, searching for an explanation in his steady gaze.
"Jesus christ Y/n" Sukuna groans, rolling his eyes, "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?"
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”
“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” He chuckles.
Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, and get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so.
“I-fuck you” The words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.
“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and stern. You stay silent as you watch him examine your face. He leans in, close enough to kiss you, raises his right hand and runs his finger tips down your face.
"Will you bite my tongue if I kiss you?"
"Maybe"
Sukuna's mouth crashes onto yours, hard, angry, and demanding. He doesn't even give you a chance to resist, not even a breath. His lips are fierce against yours, stealing every breath you try to take. Your hands instinctively move to push him away, but instead, you find yourself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.
You meet his aggression with equal force, your lips moving furiously against his. His hands cup your face roughly, holding you in place as his tongue demands entry. You respond with a whine, opening up to him, your tongues tangling in a heated dance.
Every kiss is a challenge, every touch a dare. You bite his lower lip, drawing a groan from him that vibrates through you. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, hot, and angry.
Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging sharply as if to remind him you won't be dominated easily. He retaliates by pressing you harder against the cushions, so you have no choice but to melt into him.
In one swift motion, Sukuna pulls back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing muscles lined with black tattoos beneath. Before you can even take a breath, he’s back, his mouth claiming yours with renewed fervor. His hands move to your shirt, fingers pulling at the fabric of your sweater. You break the kiss for a mere second as he tugs your shirt off, then he dives back in, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that makes your head spin.
His hands roam over your newly exposed skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your breath hitches as his fingers find the waistband of your pants. He undoes them with a practiced ease, pushing them down and leaving you in just underwear and bra, feeling vulnerable and exposed.
"W-what do you think you're doing?" you stutter, trying to maintain some semblance of control.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replies, his voice low and filled with a wicked amusement.
He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I'm gonna fuck you." His hands slide over your hips, pulling your pants down completely, and you shiver at the sensation of his touch.
You whine when he places his knee between your legs which pushes against your clothed crotch. You involuntarily buck up your hips to try and gain more friction, making Sukuna chuckle; his shit eating grin widening.
“Needy, arent you?”
Your instinct is to tell him to fuck off, but he is already hooking a finger under your pastel pink panties; pulling the material down to reveal your cunt. You mentally curse yourself at the fact that you're already wet, a fact that will sure to swell Sukuna's ego.
Your hands fly down to hide yourself but he swats them away, giving you a glare before sliding a finger up and down your wet slit; collecting the juices before pushing a digit into your tight hole.
"S-shit." your groan, and the moment you clench around him, a sickening grin spreads across his tattooed face.
"Always knew you where gonna feel great around me."
The first curl of his fingers knocks the wind out of you, as it hits the sweet spot inside of you that you could only dream to reach on your own.
“Hah~ I cant-” You whimper, stomach clenching and legs trembling from the pleasure. You want to say you hate this, tell him to get off of you but you can't, you can't even think straight. You even push your hips out, angling them so his digits reach deeper into that sweet spot that sends tendrils of electricity through your body. But before you can fully bask in the pleasure, before you can taste your orgasm on your tongue, he pulls his fingers out.
"You think I'm gonna let you cum so early? After all the shit you have pulled?" His hand flies to your throat wrapping around it with a force that belies the strength behind it. Your breath hitches, a strange mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through your veins. His touch is firm, and commanding, but there’s an undeniable pleasure in the way his fingers tighten slightly, reminding you of the power he holds.
"Nah no way." Sukuna chuckles "Your just gonna have to suck it up."
You try to speak, but his grip tightens just enough to cut off your words, leaving you gasping. The pressure on your throat is intoxicating, a strange pleasure mingling with the discomfort. You can feel your pulse throbbing under his hand. You are so dazed that you don’t even notice he has pulled out his dick until you feel something big pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so.
You’re about to open your mouth to say something, what, you do not know, but all of a sudden Sukuna pushes his dick into you until his hips are flushed against yours. It feels like you're being split in two, and the way his tip smushes against your cervix makes you unable to find your breath. The unfamiliar feeling has you squirming and clenching around his cock; body desperately trying to push out the foreign intrusion.  
“Shit you gotta loosen up doll, cant fuck you like this.” There were veins popping on his temple as he started to rub tight circles on your clit. Bolts of pleasure shoot up your body, and you desperately try to relax your body.
“Atta girl” He coos, withdrawing his hips before slamming into your.
The first thrust completely knocks the wind out of you. The collision with your gspot has you arching your back of the couch; eyes screwed shut and letting out a loud moan. He's girth spread you so well, so much, and the friction was so delicious, tears blotted your eyesight. Your skin is buzzing, and your entire lower half is shaking from the pleasure. Sukuna's pace is brutal, unforgiving, and he has to grab the arm rest above you with one arm to help his brutal and unforgiving pace into you.
Your mind grows hazy, lost in the sensation of how good he was fucking you, but then, without explanation, a spark of defiance ignites within you. Suddenly, you find the strength to flip him over, his dick not leaving the warmth of your cunt once and so you were effectively laying on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. With your chest flushed against his, and your ass perked up in the air, you begin to fuck yourself on his dick, raising your hips up and down his length as if he was a dildo.
"Oh thats it." Sukuna is not a whining man but here he is, his voice cracking from the feeling and sight of you riding him. "Fuck yourself on me shit shit shit."
You are practically drooling on his chest, your eyes rolling back from how good he felt against your G spot.
You let a whine when you feel yourself start to get tired so Sukuna grabs your hips and starts fucking you on his length.
Fap.Fap.Fap
"Gonna cum in you baby ok?" He murmurs into your ear and you dazedly nod.
Suddenly you feel your stomach dip and your mind go blank. Your mind feels as though it’s been dipped in pure euphoria, thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind, replaced by an overwhelming wave of bliss that drowns out everything else. Your body responds in kind, muscles tensing and releasing in perfect harmony with the pleasure coursing through you. It’s as if every cell is vibrating with delight, your skin tingling with a heightened sensitivity that makes even the slightest touch feel like a divine caress. The heat of the sensation is intoxicating, making your limbs feel weightless as if you’re floating on a cloud of pure, unadulterated joy.
Sukuna is quick to follow, shooting ropes of thick cum that glide down his shaft onto his balls.
"See? We are practically made for each other."
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misswynters ¡ 4 days ago
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𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞
featuring. Ekko x fem!reader
wc. 15.5k
synopsis. Born from house Arvino, one of the richest and influential families of piltover. You had it all from luxurious gifts, fancy meals, a magnificent bedroom and much more. You’re parents gave you everything you asked for. However still never satisfied you. You’re mind always looked at the injustice and suffering zaun was going through. That’s when you first met ekko, the firelights’ leader. Not very happy to have a pilty messing stuff up.
trope. “enemies to lovers”
warnings. slow burn, cursing, blood, kissing 0-0, suggestive
requested. by anon
a/n. slight spoilers for arcane s2, it’s more like enemies to friends to lovers (sorry) if there’s mistakes you don’t see it! aka not proofread (read it thrice) also there’s no war in this :)
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Above, the shimmering towers stood tall, their wealth and power casting long shadows. Below, Zaun suffocated in its neon haze, its people forgotten in the depths of the city’s ambition. Whereas the glow of Piltover’s lights filled the skyline. From the balcony of your family estate, the stark contrast between Piltover and Zaun was undeniable.
“You think your actions are noble, but you’re a fool,” your father’s voice thundered from the dining room. His words, sharp and unyielding, echoed through the halls as you stood silently by the doorway. “Consorting with the undercity rabble is not only dangerous, it’s treacherous.”
“They’re not rabble. They’re people,” you countered, stepping forward with clenched fists. “You act like Zaun doesn’t exist, but they’re suffering because of Piltover’s greed.”
“You don’t understand the world you live in,” your mother added, her tone softer but no less cutting. “House Arvino holds power because we uphold order. Piltover thrives because of people like us. You risk everything with your reckless defiance.”
Frustration boiled within you. “Piltover thrives at the expense of Zaun. Those people deserve better.”
Your father slammed his fist onto the table. “Enough! You are an Arvino, and you will act like one. This rebellion of yours ends now.”
His command hung in the air, suffocating and absolute. You didn’t argue further. Instead, you turned on your heel and left, the weight of their disapproval bearing down on you. You wouldn’t stop. You couldn’t.
Zaun had become a second home to you, even if it was a dangerous one. It was there, in the grimy depths of the undercity, that you had met Ekko. The boy with paint-streaked cheeks and a fire in his eyes had been as wary of you as you had been of him. Unfortunately, you had been too blinded by your own self-righteousness to notice the fire in his eyes. You thought your mission was noble, an act of goodwill to deliver medical supplies to Zaun’s struggling districts. Your family, House Arvino, had always prided itself on maintaining a veneer of philanthropy, even when their true motivations were rooted in politics. You had accompanied a group of Piltover enforcers on the trip, believing your presence would emphasize the importance of the task. You were wrong.
The moment you stepped into the heart of Zaun, the air itself seemed hostile. The tension was palpable, the sharp smell of chemical fumes mixing with the weight of countless wary stares from Zaunites who lined the streets. Your voice was soft and unsure as you addressed the gathered crowd, holding out your hands to show the crates of supplies. You thought you were doing something good, offering some small relief to people who had been forgotten.
But the enforcers who were armed and stoic, turned the scene into something far more sinister. They barked orders at the crowd, waving their weapons to ensure no one got too close. You had tried to intervene, to tell them this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but your voice was drowned out by the chaos they had already sown.
That was when the boy appeared, the one you heard slight rumors about. At first, you didn’t know exactly who he was, only that he seemed fearless as he stepped forward. Placing himself between the crowd and the enforcers. His voice rang out, cutting through the noise like a blade.
“Another topsider playing savior,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “You think you can fix Zaun with scraps from your table?”
You had never been spoken to like that before. His words, sharp and accusatory, made your cheeks burn with anger and embarrassment. You turned to him, trying to keep your composure despite the growing crowd that was watching the confrontation unfold.
“I’m not here to play savior,” you shot back, your voice steady even though your heart was racing. “I’m here to help.”
“Help?” He laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and mocking. “Your kind doesn’t help. You just come down here to feel good about yourselves, then leave us to clean up your mess.”
“I’m trying to make a difference!” you snapped, your frustration boiling over.
His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, his posture radiating defiance. “If you really wanted to make a difference, you wouldn’t bring enforcers with you like we’re criminals. You’d be standing with us, not above us.”
The words hit harder than you expected. Somewhere deep down, you knew he was right. The enforcers’ presence had turned an act of charity into a display of control, a reminder of Piltover’s dominance over Zaun. But admitting that felt like defeat, and you weren’t ready to back down.
“This isn’t about standing above anyone,” you argued. “I came here because I care. That’s more than most people from Piltover would do.”
“And that’s supposed to make you special?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Newsflash, princess, Zaun doesn’t need your pity. We need change.”
The enforcers stepped in before the argument could escalate further, pushing the crowd back and ordering you to return to the transport. You left with the weight of his words pressing heavily on your chest, his voice echoing in your mind long after you were gone.
Over the weeks that followed, you found yourself returning to Zaun despite the tension and despite him. Every time you came, he was there, watching you with that same guarded expression. It seemed like he could sense your discomfort, the guilt you carried for what Piltover had done to his home.
“Back again?” he would say, leaning casually against a wall with a smirk that made your blood boil. “Guess you didn’t get the message last time.”
“I’m not here for your approval,” you’d hiss back, your tone dry. “I’m here for the people who actually need help.”
“You think you’re helping?” he’d shoot back, his voice low and laced with frustration. “All you’re doing is putting a bandage on a bullet wound.”
His words stung, not because they were cruel, but because they forced you to confront truths you didn’t want to face. He wasn’t wrong. Everything you did felt small, insignificant compared to the scale of Zaun’s struggles. And yet, you couldn’t stop coming back.
Ekko was unlike anyone you had ever known. He was quick-witted and determined, a rebel who refused to back down in the face of injustice. But he didn’t trust you, not completely. “You’re just another Pilty trying to fix a world you don’t understand,” he had told you once, his voice filled with disdain.
“And you’re just another rebel too angry to see the bigger picture,” you had shot back. Yet despite the constant sparring, you found yourself drawn to him, to the hope buried beneath his frustration.
That hope turned to chaos one night when enforcers raided the Firelights’ hideout. It happened so fast. One moment, you were in the Firelights’ hideout, quietly listening as Ekko outlined plans for their next move against Piltover’s oppression. The next, chaos erupted.
The sound of boots echoed sharply against the metal grates of Zaun’s narrow passages. The enforcers had found the hideout. Your breath caught as the unmistakable clatter of their weapons reverberated through the space. You stood frozen, staring at Ekko as he barked orders to the Firelights around him, his voice sharp and commanding.
“You brought them here, didn’t you?” His words were like a blade, cutting through the noise. His piercing gaze locked onto you, and your stomach churned with guilt.
“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, but your voice was drowned out by the growing commotion. The enforcers didn’t give anyone time to explain. They swarmed in, their heavy armor gleaming under the dim light, weapons raised. You reached for the nearest object which was a dainty metal rod. And tried stand your ground. You weren’t going to let them harm anyone, not here.
Ekko was already moving, his quick reflexes guiding him as he darted through the chaos. The Firelights fought back, using their intimate knowledge of Zaun’s layout to their advantage. Smoke bombs went off, shrouding the room in thick, stinging fog. He towards you with a slight disgusted look and yelled, “You have to leave, Now!”
“I’m not leaving,” you said, your voice defiant.
“You’ll just slow us down,” he snapped, the frustration in his tone cutting deeper than he intended. “They need me. And you need to go back to your perfect little life, staying safe.”
His words stung, but before you could argue, he vanished into the fray, leaving you behind. You tried to follow, weaving through the chaos, but you weren’t quick enough. An enforcer caught you in the shadows, his grip like iron as he slammed you against the wall. “Here you are.”
However the enforcers were relentless. One of them caught sight of you, his eyes narrowing as he grinned. You swung the rod with the little strength you had left, but it was no match for their training. Pain exploded across your abdomen as he shot you. It nearly missed your stomach, however you crumpled to the ground. Gasping for the little air you could muster.
Through the haze of smoke and pain, Ekko pull something from his belt. A device crackling with vibrant green energy. “Firelights, cover your eyes!” he shouted. The device emitted a blinding flash, followed by a wave of sound that sent the enforcers reeling. Their yells of confusion filled the air as they stumbled back, disoriented and clutching their helmets.
The Firelights seized the opportunity, retreating deeper into the hideout and disappearing into secret tunnels. Ekko crouched beside you, his hands shaking as he lifted your chin. “You okay?” he asked, his voice rough but laced with concern.
Without replied to his question, you stumbled out of his grasp. Going into the streets of Zaun, clutching your side as every step sent searing pain through your body. The world around you blurred, a mix of dim lights and the shadows of the towering structures above.
He was shocked to say the least. ‘Why did you leave so abruptly?’ he questioned himself. Ekko didn’t waste a second, he truly did try to hide it. But as soon as the enforcers were gone and the Firelights were safe, he was out the door. Searching for you and he didn’t want to admit it. He knew didn’t know you as much, but he knew you were stubborn. Matter fact for the short period of time he was with you, he knew you were too stubborn to admit how badly you were hurt.
“Where the hell did you go?” he muttered under his breath, scanning the narrow alleys and dimly lit corners of Zaun. His mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last. You were nowhere to be found.
The beating left you crumpled on the ground, your vision blurred and your body trembling with pain. Somehow you managed to drag yourself back to Piltover, every step a battle against the agony that wrecked your body. By the time you stumbled into your family’s estate, the grand halls felt like a mockery of your suffering. Your parents returned hours later to find you collapsed in the foyer, your bruises stark against your weak skin. Their shock quickly turned to anger, though it was born of fear.
“This is what happens when you defy us,” your father said, his voice shaking with fury. “Do you see now? You can’t change the world. You can only get yourself killed.”
“I trying to help,” you murmured, your voice weak but resolute.
“They are not your people,” your mother said, her tone filled with a mix of pity and frustration. “You are our only child. We can’t lose you to some pointless crusade.” Their words lingered, but they didn’t understand. They couldn’t. The divide between Piltover and Zaun wasn’t just physical, it was ideological. You were caught between two worlds, neither one willing to accept you fully. The summons to the Council came the next morning. As you stood in the grand chamber, the weight of their judgment bore down on you. Ambessa Medarda, seated at the center, regarded you with cold disdain.
“You stand accused of undermining Piltover’s authority by associating with the undercity,” she said, her voice sharp and unyielding. “Do you deny these charges?”
“I was just trying to helping people,” you replied exhaustively, your voice steady despite the pain in your ribs.
Ambessa’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Helping? Piltover thrives because of order. And you, as an Arvino, have brought chaos to our city.”The council murmured their agreement, their disapproval a suffocating presence in the room.
“Your actions were reckless,” Ambessa continued. “And your injuries are your own doing. You clutched the knife and cut yourself on its blade, all in the name of some misguided sympathy for the undercity." Her words felt like another blow, each one landing with precision and force.
You straightened your back, though the pain flared at the effort. "I acted because the people of Zaun are ignored and oppressed. Piltover turns a blind eye while it prospers off their suffering. That's not order, it’s exploitation." The murmurs grew louder, some council members shifting uncomfortably in their seats. But Ambessa didn't waver. Her gaze bore into you, her lips curling with faint amusement.
"Such passion," she mused. "But passion without purpose is just noise. You may think yourself a savior, but all you've done is tarnish your family's name and threaten the stability of our city."
Before you could respond, the chamber doors swung open with a heavy groan, and your parents entered. Dressed in their finest, House Arvino's patriarch and matriarch carried themselves with the grace and dignity that Piltover revered. Yet the tension in their features betrayed their unease.
"Ambessa," your father began, his tone measured but firm. "My child's actions, while impulsive, stem from a place of compassion. Surely the Council can recognize that their intentions were not malicious."
"Compassion?" Ambessa's tone was mocking. "Compassion does not excuse rebellion. House Arvino has always stood for loyalty to Piltover's ideals. Is that no longer the case?"
Your mother stepped forward, her voice calm but resolute. "Our loyalty has never wavered. But to degrade my child in front of this council as if they are a common criminal is unacceptable." Ambessa's expression darkened.
"Unacceptable is your heir jeopardizing the balance we've worked so hard to maintain. Zaun is a powder keg, and actions like theirs threaten to ignite it." You bit your lip to keep from speaking. The words you wanted to hurl at her-at all of them-burned on your tongue, but your mother's warning glance silenced you.
"House Arvino will address this matter internally," your father said, his voice brooking no argument. "We will ensure that such actions are not repeated."
Ambessa leaned back in her chair, studying your parents with a calculating gaze. "See that you do. Piltover cannot afford dissent from within its own ranks." The council murmured their agreement, and the session was adjourned. As you were escorted from the chamber, the weight of the council's disdain hung heavy over you.
Back in the confines of your family's estate, the anger you had suppressed boiled over. You slammed your hands against the polished surface of your desk, the pain in your ribs flaring with the movement. "They're cowards," you spat, your voice trembling with fury. "All of them. Sitting in their gilded towers while Zaun suffers."
"Alright thats enough," your father said sharply, entering the room with your mother close behind. "You don't understand the position you've put us in. House Arvino cannot afford to be seen as weak or disloyal."
"I don't care about any of that!" you shouted, turning to face them. "Zaun doesn't have the luxury of appearances. They're dying while we live in luxury!"
Your mother's expression softened, but her voice was firm. "We understand your frustration. But your actions cannot continue. They will destroy you, and us." Their words echoed Ekko's from the night before, and the parallel struck a chord. You sank into a chair, the fight leaving you as exhaustion took its place. "I can't just stop. Not when I know what's happening down there."
Your father sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Then you must find another way. A way that doesn't make enemies of those who hold power." The conversation ended there, but the fire within you didn't dim. If anything, it burned brighter. You couldn't stop. Not now.
Months have passed since your bruises had faded were a careful balancing act, though you still visited Zaun, slipping away under the guise of errands or charitable outings. But you couldn’t risk your parents catching on. To lessen their suspicions, you began inviting Ekko to your home. It was a calculated move, one that made your absences less frequent and gave the illusion that you’d abandoned your cause entirely.
Your room was a testament to Piltover’s grandeur, a lavish blend of opulence and elegance. High ceilings adorned with intricate gold detailing framed the space. The sheer curtains cascaded from tall windows, filtering moonlight across the polished marble floor. A canopy bed, draped in silken fabrics, sat at the room’s center, its pillows and blankets impossibly soft. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes ranging from engineering texts to poetry. A chandelier, all crystal and gleaming light, hung overhead, casting a warm glow over every corner.
It was in this very room that Ekko sat now, hidden behind the lush velvet curtains of one of the tall windows. Your father had come to check on you earlier, his heavy footsteps unmistakable in the hallway. When he entered, you were seated at your desk, feigning focus on a mundane ledger. He lingered by the door, his gaze sweeping over the room before settling on you. “You’ve been staying home more often,” he observed.
You offered a nonchalant shrug. “I realized it was pointless to keep going there. It’s useless trying to fix what can’t be fixed.”
Your father’s face betrayed nothing, but there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “A wise choice,” he said simply, and without another word, he left.
The door clicked shut, and you exhaled slowly, waiting until his footsteps faded down the hall. Then, turning your head slightly, you murmured, “You can come out now.”
Ekko stepped from behind the curtains, his movements silent but confident. He was a great contrast to your room’s pristine elegance. His clothes patched and worn, his presence a reminder of the worlds you tried to somehow balance. “You’re getting good at lying,” he remarked, a teasing edge to his tone.
You rolled your eyes, motioning for him to sit on the plush chair near your desk. “I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t insist on brainstorming plans here.”
“It’s safer,” he replied, settling into the chair and pulling a small notebook from his pocket. “Besides, you’re the one with the luxury of access. If we’re going to unite the cities, we need someone who can work both sides.”
You hated how his words made your heart race. Not because of their weight but because it was Ekko saying them. Somewhere in the months of sneaking around and strategizing, you’d grown to like him in a way that went far beyond friendly admiration. You buried those feelings deep, telling yourself there was no time for distractions.
The hours passed as the two of you pored over maps, scribbled ideas, and argued over logistics. The moon rose higher in the sky, its silver light pouring through the windows and bathing your room in an ethereal glow. Ekko grew quieter as the night wore on, his usual sharp wit replaced by a pensive silence. You noticed his gaze flickering to you more often, lingering for moments too long before darting away. At first, you ignored it, chalking it up to exhaustion. But when you caught him staring for the fifth time, you couldn’t help but smirk. “Something on your mind?” you asked, leaning back in your chair.
He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Just thinking.”
“About?” you questioned, leaning back against your chair.
“About how strange it is, being here,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual. “This room, this world…it feels like it shouldn’t exist. Like it’s too perfect to be real.”
“It’s not perfect,” you said quietly, your gaze dropping to the papers on your desk. “It’s a gilded cage. Nothing more.”
His eyes softened, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words. Then, slowly, he stood and crossed the room to where you sat.
“I hate to say this. But atleast i’m here…” he said hesitantly, his voice low and steady.
Something in his tone made your breath hitch. You looked up at him, and the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. Before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you leaned in.
Ekko met you halfway, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that left you breathless. His hand found the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. It was nothing like you'd imagined. It was raw, desperate, and full of the emotions you'd both kept bottled up for too long.
He pulled you to your feet, guiding you back toward the bed without breaking the kiss. The world blurred around you, your senses overwhelmed by the warmth of his touch, the taste of his lips, the way he made you feel alive in a way you never had before.
You fell onto the bed, the soft blankets and pillows cushioning your back as he leaned over you, his weight a comforting pressure. His hands framed your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks as he kissed you again and again, each one more passionate than the last.
It wasn't until his arms braced on either side of your head that he pulled back, his chest heaving as he stared down at you. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the softness in his eyes.
"Do you want me to keep going?" he asked, his voice hoarse. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "You might as well…" And as he leaned down to kiss you again, you knew there was no going back from this.
Golden hues of the afternoon sun spilled into your room through the tall, arched windows, painting the polished wooden floors in a mosaic of light and shadow. Outside, the tranquil sounds of Piltover carried through the crisp air. The distant hum of mechanized carriages, the faint chatter of passersby, and the melodic chirping of birds perched along the grand gardens that surrounded your home. Everything was perfect, picturesque even, but it all felt hollow.
Your bedroom was a masterpiece of luxury, a reflection of House Arvino’s status. Elegant bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound tomes you once eagerly devoured. A velvet armchair sat by the fireplace, its cushion still as pristine as the day it arrived, and your grand four-poster bed was draped in silk, untouched except for the rumpled corner where you sat. Yet, despite the warmth and beauty of the space, it felt cold.
You hadn’t touched your breakfast that morning, nor the one the day before. The silver tray your maid brought hours ago sat untouched on your writing desk, the tea long gone cold. Your appetite had vanished with him.
“Miss,” came a tentative voice from the doorway. You turned to see Anya, your maid, standing there with a concerned expression. She stepped into the room, her brow furrowed as her gaze swept over you. “You haven’t eaten again. This isn’t healthy.”
You waved her off without meeting her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” she pressed gently, her voice tinged with worry. “You’ve barely touched your meals for over a week. If this continues, I’ll have to tell your parents.”
Her words sent a jolt through you. The last thing you wanted was for your parents to get involved. They wouldn’t understand. They never did. But you knew Anya was serious. Her loyalty to you didn’t outweigh her duty to ensure your well-being.
“Alright,” you relented, forcing a weak smile. “I’ll eat later.”
Anya didn’t look convinced, but she nodded and left the room. The heavy door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. You leaned back against the plush pillows of your bed, staring up at the intricate carvings on the ceiling. Days had turned into weeks since Ekko had kissed you in this very room. Weeks since you’d seen him, since you’d spoken to him. At first, you’d waited eagerly, expecting him to climb through your window with that same confident smirk he always wore. But as the days passed, hope turned to disappointment.
However, the first week had been agony. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the trees outside, had sent your heart racing, only for it to sink when you realized it wasn’t him. You told yourself he was busy, that Zaun demanded too much of him to spare a moment for you. But as the second week came and went, you began to question everything.
Was the kiss a mistake? Did he regret it? The thought gnawed at you, leaving you restless and irritable. Eventually, you stopped waiting. You stopped glancing at the window, stopped listening for the familiar sound of his footsteps. If he didn’t want to see you, then fine. You wouldn’t waste your time waiting for someone who clearly didn’t care.
But despite your best efforts to move on, the ache in your chest remained. It showed in the way you pushed away your meals, the way you avoided the social gatherings your parents encouraged you to attend. Your mother had noticed, of course, her sharp eyes taking in your pale complexion and listless demeanor. “Are you unwell, darling?” she’d asked one evening, her tone as polished as ever.
You’d smiled and lied, assuring her it was nothing more than fatigue. She’d accepted your answer, but her gaze lingered, skeptical.
Now, as you sat in your room, the weight of it all pressing down on you, you realized you couldn’t keep living like this. You couldn’t keep letting his absence control your life. If he didn’t care, then neither should you. But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself, the truth was undeniable. You missed him.
The days stretched on, blending into a monotony of forced smiles and empty conversations. You threw yourself into the routines of Piltover’s elite. Attending social calls, charitable luncheons, and the parties where everyone whispered behind jeweled fans about alliances and intrigue. On the surface, you seemed like yourself again. You laughed when expected, nodded politely during dull conversations, and played the part of the perfect child of House Arvino.
But beneath the carefully constructed façade, a storm brewed. No matter how hard you tried to bury it, the memory of Ekko lingered, sharper and more vivid with each passing day. His voice, his touch, the way he had kissed you. It all haunted you. It didn’t make sense, you told yourself. He was just a friend, nothing more. Yet the thought of him ignoring you, of deliberately staying away, clawed at your chest.
One night, long after the rest of your house had gone to bed, you sat by your window, staring out at the glowing lights of Piltover. The thought hit you with the force of a hammer. You know deep down that you couldn’t keep waiting. If he wouldn’t come to you, then you would go to him.
The decision wasn’t easy. It took days to build up the courage, to push aside the fear of what you might find. But when you finally made your way to Zaun, the heavy air and dim light of the undercity greeted you like an old adversary. You navigated the twisting streets, every step bringing back memories of the times you’d spent here. How he had carefully and slowly opened this world to you, how you’d fought for it together. Well atleast try to.
When you finally reached the Firelights’ hideout, you felt your stomach tighten. It looked the same as ever, but something about it felt different. You spotted him almost immediately, standing near a table strewn with maps and tools, his back to you. “Ekko,” you called out, your voice steady despite the tremor in your chest.
He turned slowly, his face unreadable. For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes. Was it surprise, maybe even relief. Either way it didn’t matter because it was gone in an instant, replaced by an icy look. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone cold.
The words hit you harder than you expected. “I… I came to see you. It’s been weeks, and—”
“And what?” He cut you off, turning away to fiddle with something on the table. “You’ve got a life up there. What do you need me for?”
Your chest tightened, anger bubbling to the surface. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like I just forgot about you. You’re the one who stopped coming around.”
He scoffed, finally turning to face you. “Stopped coming around? You think I’ve got time to play house? I’ve got real things to deal with here, things that actually matter.”
The words stung, but you refused to back down. “And I don’t? Do you think it’s easy for me to come here, to fight for a place I don’t even belong to? I thought we were doing this together, Ekko.”
He stepped closer, his voice rising. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t belong here. This about you. You can go back to your fancy dinners and your perfect life anytime you want, but this is my reality.”
You clenched your fists, your own voice shaking with anger. “Don’t you dare act like I haven’t sacrificed anything! Do you know what it’s like to lie to everyone you care about, to pretend you’re someone you’re not, just so you can try to make a difference?”
“Sacrifice?” he shot back, his voice dripping with disbelief. “You don’t know the first thing about sacrifice.” The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on you both. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the anger simmering in the silence.
Finally, you took a shaky breath, your voice softer but no less firm. “You don’t get to decide what I care about, Ekko. I came here because I thought you were my friend.”
He looked away, his jaw tight. “I didn’t ask for you to come.” The words were like a slap to the face, but you refused to let him see how much they hurt. “Fine,” you said, your voice cold. “If that’s how you feel, then I won’t bother you again.”
You turned on your heel, walking away before he could see the tears starting to swell in your eyes. But just as you reached the door, his voice stopped you. “Wait.”
You hesitated, your hand on the worn wood, but you didn’t turn around.
“I…” His voice faltered, the anger replaced by something softer. He inched his head as he paced around, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
You looked back at him, his expression finally cracking. There was pain in his eyes, the same pain you’d been carrying for weeks.
“Then what did you mean?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling.
He didn’t answer right away, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just… I didn’t know what to say. After what happened, I thought it’d be easier if I stayed away. But it wasn’t.”
Your shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of you. Looking at with with complete disbelief. “Seriously! You could’ve just told me.”
He nodded, his expression filled with regret. “Yeah. I should’ve.”
For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the weight of the argument lingering in the air. But as you looked at him, at the boy who had opened your eyes to so much, you felt the anger fade, replaced by something else. This was something you weren’t ready to admit to anyone.
A few months have passed and things were relatively calm, much hasn’t happened since then. The suffocating air of Piltover’s council chamber lingered in your mind as you strode through the bustling streets of Zaun. The conversations in those hallowed halls always left a bitter taste on your tongue. They spoke of progress and prosperity, but beneath the gilded rhetoric, it was all about control. To control of resources, people, and power. It was a game you were born into but had grown to despise.
You moved swiftly, your hood pulled low to shield your face from prying eyes. The undercity was alive with its usual chaos, but you’d long learned to navigate its labyrinthine streets without drawing attention. This was your escape, your solace. The world of House Arvino, your family’s wealth, influence, and ties to the Council. It all felt more like chains with each passing day.
The hideout was tucked deep within the shadows of Zaun, a sanctuary for the oppressed and rebellious. It had become a second home to you, a place where you could finally breathe. Ekko had been wary of you at first, rightfully so. Your name carried weight in Piltover, and trust wasn’t something he gave freely. But over time, you’d proven yourself.
Today, the air in the hideout was thick with tension. Ekko was at the center of it all, his voice calm but commanding as he gave orders to his crew. He noticed you immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as you approached.
“Back again?” he asked, leaning against a makeshift table. His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it, a quiet concern he rarely voiced outright.
“I can’t seem to stay away,” you replied, offering a small smile.
His lips twitched, almost forming a grin, but he shook his head instead. “You’re playing a dangerous game, y’know?”
You shrugged. “I know.”
He studied you for a moment, his gaze lingering as if he was trying to decipher something. Then, with a sigh, he gestured for you to follow him to a quieter corner.
“What’s really going on?” he asked once you were alone. “You’ve been coming here more often, and I know it’s not just to check on the Firelights.”
You hesitated, your fingers gripping the edge of your cloak. “I… I don’t know if I can keep doing this. Pretending like everything’s fine topside when I know how much blood is on their hands. My family’s hands.”
He frowned, his usual confidence giving way to something softer. “You’re not responsible for what they do.”
“Aren’t I?” you countered, your voice rising. “I’m part of them, Ekko. Every time I go back to that house, every time I sit in those meetings, I’m complicit. I’m part of the system that’s crushing this place.”
The intensity of your words caught him off guard, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding. “Then why do you keep going back?”
“Because…” You trailed off, your throat tightening. “Because I thought I could help. That I could use my position to make a difference. But now, I’m not so sure. The Council sees Zaun as nothing more than a problem to be solved, more importantly, destroyed.”
Ekko’s jaw tightened, his anger barely contained. “They’ll never stop. Not unless we make them.”
You couldn’t stop thinking of the face ekko made when you told him what you were internally thinking. How the council thinks so poorly about zaun, how it can be something that wouldn’t be missed if it was gone. It was horrible that most of the topsiders thought the same way, had the same mindset.
You walked briskly, the streets unfamiliar under the heavy shadows of the evening. You had chosen this route for its discretion, a calculated decision that now felt dangerous in its isolation.
Your heart pounded in your chest, though you didn't want to admit why. It wasn't fear of being recognized or stopped by one of Zaun's residents. No, this was something more insidious. A seed of doubt planted by weeks of balancing on a blade's edge between two lives. House Arvino's influence was undeniable, and it had kept you shielded from true danger for so long. But here in Zaun, your family name meant less than nothing. To most, you were just another noble, another cog in the machine grinding them into dust.
Ambessa had recently cornered you in Piltover's glittering council halls, her words honeyed but laced with venom. She had offered you promises of power, privilege, and security for your family. In order to gain immunity from suspicion, all in exchange for complete submission. You'd nodded and played your role, but the encounter left you hollow. The high society life you'd once cherished now felt like a gilded cage, and her offer only tightened the bars.
Yet, her influence was terrifying. Under Ambessa's direction, the Council had started scrutinizing House Arvino with an alarming intensity. The Firelights, they claimed, had spies in Piltover. And somehow, House Arvino's connections to Zaun became their scapegoat. You were well aware of what that scrutiny meant-your family was being squeezed, maneuvered into a position where betrayal seemed the only way to survive. A betrayal by who? you thought.
As you turned a corner into an empty alley, those doubts turned into a growing unease. The silence around you felt oppressive, unnatural. You hesitated, glancing over your shoulder. That was when the first strike landed, the butt of the gun hitting your head. You staggered, gasping in pain, only to be shoved against the damp wall. A rough hand grabbed your cloak and yanked it back, revealing your face to the enforcers.
"Well, well," one sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "A little lost noble playing savior in Zaun yet again."
"Let go!" you hissed, trying to pull free. But there were too many of them, and their grips were forceful and rough.
"We know all about your little meetings with the boy," another enforcer said, driving his fist into your stomach. "Did you really think you could run around down here without consequences? Or did your family forget to teach you how the real world works?" The pain blurred your vision as you crumpled to the ground. You clawed at the dirt, trying to crawl away, but another blow landed, then another.
Laughter echoed around you as they kicked and struck without mercy. The worst part wasn't the physical pain. It was the guilt, the sickening realization that you'd been naive enough to believe there could be change. Especially from within the Council's walls. You'd hoped that by walking the line between your family and the Firelights, you could create something better. But this? This was your reward for dreaming too much.
Tears blurred your vision as you curled into yourself, trying to shield your head. "Stupid," you whispered through clenched teeth. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." You slammed your fist against your temple, desperate to drown out the pain, the voices, the failure.
The enforcers stepped back momentarily, likely to assess whether you were still conscious. But before they could strike again, a loud crackling sound filled the air. "Back off," came a familiar voice, sharp and commanding.
You barely managed to open your eyes, but the sight was unmistakable. Ekko and his hoverboard gleaming as he charged forward. Behind him, several Firelights emerged from the shadows, their makeshift weapons glowing in the dim light.
"What the-" one enforcer started, but Ekko was already upon him, a precise swing of his bat sending the man sprawling. The Firelights fought with a ferocity that sent the enforcers scattering, though Ekko's eyes never left you. He reached your side in moments, dropping to his knees. "Hey," he said, his voice softer now. "Don’t go close your eyes, stay with me now."
You tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob. Blood trickled from a huge gash above your brow, staining your face. Ekko pressed a hand to your shoulder to steady you, but you flinched. Your fist weakly hitting your own head again. "Stop it," he said firmly, grabbing your wrist before you could hurt yourself further. "Hey! Don't do that."
"I'm an idiot," you mumbled, your voice barely audible. "| thought... I thought they could change. That Piltover could change. But I was wrong. They'll never stop."
His expression softened, though his jaw was still tight with anger. "You're not an idiot. You're just optimistic... too hopeful for your own good."
The Firelights surrounded you, their movements tense as they prepared for more enforcers to arrive. Ekko lifted you carefully, his arm supporting your weight. "We need to move," one of his crew said.
"Yeah i know," Ekko replied, his eyes still on you. "Let's get out of here."
As he carried you to safety, the weight of your choices pressed down on you like never before. Your family would demand answers. The Council would escalate their efforts. And Ambessa? Oh, she’s gonna have a fieldday with this. She would stop at nothing to make you pay for what she'd see, see it as a betrayal to your own people. But as Ekko held you steady, his presence a grounding force amidst the chaos, you realized something else. You were no longer just caught between two worlds, you were tearing one down to build the other.
Ekko’s chambers weren’t lavish, but they were purposeful, an organized chaos that spoke of a leader always in motion. The space was tucked inside one of the largest branches of the Firelight’s sprawling treehouse hideout. The soft glow of lanterns filled the room, their light reflecting off walls adorned with maps, sketches, and scattered tools. From the small window, you could see the hideout below, a buzzing network of walkways, platforms, and people moving with quiet purpose.
The bed you lay on was makeshift but sturdy, piled with blankets and pillows that smelled faintly of Zaun’s metal-tinged air. Your body ached everywhere. Sharp, stinging pains in some places, a deep, relentless soreness in others. Slowly, you tried to sit up, wincing as the movement sent sharp jolts of pain through your ribs.
Across the room, Ekko stood at a workbench, tinkering with something that sparked faintly under his fingers. His braids were tied back, and his jacket was slung over the back of a chair, leaving him in a simple shirt that clung to his frame. When he glanced over and saw you struggling to rise, his eyes widened, and he immediately abandoned his project.
“Hey, whoa—what do you think you’re doing?” he asked, crossing the room in a heartbeat.
“I’m fine,” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as you tried to wave him off.
“You’re not fine,” he countered, his hands carefully but firmly guiding you back down onto the bed. “You’ve been out for two days, and you can barely sit up without wincing.”
“I can handle it,” you said, though your body betrayed you with another sharp wince as you tried to adjust yourself on the pillows.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Ekko replied dryly, but his voice softened as he knelt beside the bed. “Seriously. You need to rest. Let me help.”
There was a quiet moment as he adjusted the pillows behind you, moving with surprising gentleness. His hands lingered briefly, his eyes scanning your face as if double checking for signs of discomfort.
“Thanks,” you murmured, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.
He shook his head, leaning back on his heels. “You don’t have to thank me. I just… You scared the hell out of me, y’know?”
You glanced away, guilt stirring in your chest. “I didn’t mean to. I just… I didn’t think it would get THAT bad.”
Ekko sat back on the floor, his arms resting on his knees as he studied you. “Why did you do it?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “When I found you, you were hitting yourself and saying all these… awful things. About yourself.”
Your breath hitched at the memory, shame washing over you. “It’s just… something I do when I’m frustrated,” you admitted, not meeting his gaze. “I was angry, at everyone and everything. Y’know, I thought I could make a difference, but I was wrong. I let everyone down.”
“Oh come on don’t say that,” Ekko said firmly, cutting you off. “You didn’t let anyone down. You’re one of the only people from Piltover who actually cares about Zaun. And yeah, maybe you were too optimistic, but that’s not a bad thing. You don’t deserve what they did to you.” His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, he added, “It’s not safe for you to go back to Piltover.”
You frowned, meeting his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been hearing things,” Ekko said, his expression darkening. “Rumors. Ambessa’s pissed. She thinks you’ve betrayed the Council, and she’s not the kind of person to let something like that slide. Word is, she wants your head.” The weight of his words settled heavily on your chest, and you slumped back against the pillows. “So that’s it, then?” you said bitterly. “I can’t go home. I can’t go back to Piltover. What am I supposed to do now?”
Ekko leaned closer, his gaze unwavering. “You stay here,” he said simply. “With me. You’ve got people who will vouch for you for the most part. I’ll fight for you.” Something in his tone made your chest tighten, and for the first time in days, a small, hesitant smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks, Ekko. For literally everything.”
He reached out and gently squeezed your hand. “Anytime .”
, marked with red ink, highlighted the areas where House Arvino’s trade routes intersected with Zaun’s underbelly.
A grizzled Baron leaned forward, his metallic fingers tapping against the table. “House Arvino’s little noble has gone rogue,” he rasped, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “The Council’s after them, sure, but that just makes this all the more interesting for us.”
Another Baron, her voice honeyed but sharp, chimed in. “If we get our hands on them, imagine the leverage we’d have. Not just over Arvino, but the Council and even the Firelights. They’re a walking, breathing key to the chaos we’ve been craving.”
“They’re already in Zaun,” another added, her tone laced with confidence. “All we need is patience. When the time is right, we’ll make our move.” The Barons exchanged nods, their plan unspoken but clear. For now, they would wait, watching, their web of spies and informants slowly tightening around you.
From across the platform, Ekko leaned casually against a railing, watching the interaction unfold. His arms were crossed, but there was a noticeable softness in his gaze, a flicker of something close to admiration.
In the days that followed, the children of the hideout began to gravitate toward you. They tugged at your hands, peppering you with questions about Piltover and laughing at your awkward attempts to keep up with their boundless energy. You found yourself helping where you could, organizing supplies, assisting with small repairs, and even attempting to teach some of the younger ones how to read.
Though the older Firelights were slower to trust, you noticed their glances were no longer as sharp, their whispers not as harsh. You were earning your place here, bit by bit, though it was a far cry from the life you had once known. Piltover, with its grand halls and polished façades, felt like a distant memory now, one you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to cling to.
Ekko, ever watchful, seemed to take quiet satisfaction in your efforts. He didn’t say much, but his presence was definitely there. Whether he was checking on you or working alongside the others. There was a rhythm to life in the hideout, and you were beginning to find your place within it.
Unbeknownst to you, danger loomed closer than you realized. The Chem Barons’ spies were everywhere, watching, reporting back with meticulous detail. Every interaction you had, every movement you made, was noted. To them, you were a pawn in a much larger game, one that could tip the balance of power in Zaun.
“They’re softening,” one spy reported back, his voice low as he spoke into a communicator hidden beneath his cloak. “The Firelights trust them more every day. If we move now, it’ll be too obvious.”
“Let them feel safe,” came the reply, cold and calculating. “When the time is right, we’ll take them. And when we do, House Arvino will learn what happens when they meddle in Zaun’s affairs.”
It was another ordinary morning in the hideout when you decided to venture outside Ekko’s chambers. The soreness in your body was a dull ache now, manageable but constant. As you stepped onto the main platform, the sunlight filtering through the leaves felt warm on your skin, a stark contrast to the chill of Piltover’s marble halls.
You hadn’t noticed Ekko watching you until you caught his reflection in the metal plating of a nearby railing. He was perched on a ledge, his goggles pushed up onto his forehead, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“You’re staring again,” you said, your tone teasing as you turned to face him fully.
Ekko smirked, hopping down from the ledge with practiced ease. “Just making sure you’re not overdoing it,” he shot back. “You’ve got a habit of biting off more than you can chew.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms despite the ache in your shoulders. “I’m fine, Ekko. I’ve been fine. You don’t have to keep hovering.”
His expression softened, but he didn’t back down. “Someone has to. If it weren’t for me, you’d probably still be lying in the street.” The reminder stung, not because it wasn’t true, but because it forced you to confront just how fragile your position had become. You looked away, scanning the hideout below where Firelights bustled about their tasks. The children’s laughter floated up, a soothing balm to the tension that threatened to settle between you and Ekko.
“I’ve been trying to help,” you murmured. “I don’t want to be a burden. It’s just that…” You trailed off, unsure of how to put the conflict in your heart into words.
Ekko stepped closer, his voice low and steady. “You’re not a burden,” he said firmly. “But you’re not invincible either. And if you keep throwing yourself into danger like this, someone’s going to take advantage of it.” His words hit harder than you cared to admit, but before you could respond, a group of children came running up, dragging you into their latest adventure A game that involved climbing ropes strung between the platforms. You gave Ekko a grateful smile, silently promising him you’d be careful, even if you weren’t entirely sure how.
That night, as the Firelights settled into the quiet hum of evening, Ekko pulled you aside. His chambers felt more like a refuge now than a room, its warmth amplified by the soft glow of firelight reflecting off polished metal and glass.
“You’ve been doing good here,” he began, leaning against his workbench. “The kids adore you, and even the older crew is starting to come around. But it’s not just about fitting in, you know?”
You tilted your head, unsure where he was going with this. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated, his fingers drumming against the table. “The Chem Barons,” he said finally, his tone heavy. “They’ve got their eyes on you now. Your family’s deals with them? Those don’t go unnoticed. And with the Council already hunting you, you’re stuck between two very dangerous sides.”
The weight of his words settled over you like a shroud. “So what do I do?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.
Ekko stepped closer, his gaze meeting yours. “Like i said earlier, you stay here. The Firelights are your best chance now. We’ll protect you, but you’ve got to let us.”
You swallowed hard, nodding despite the fear gnawing at your resolve. “And my family?”
“Well they already made their choice,” he said, his tone softening. “Now you’ve got to make yours.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The firelight flickered, casting long shadows on the walls. Ekko’s steady presence was a comfort, a reminder that you weren’t as alone as you felt.
You have spent the last few weeks peacefully managing your new life in zaun. As for today, it was surely a day to remember. It had been long but rewarding. You’d spent most of it helping around the hideout, patching up clothes, organizing supplies, and entertaining the children with small stories and makeshift games. Their laughter had been infectious, warming a part of you that you didn’t even realize had grown cold. But now, as the sun set and the last streaks of orange faded from the sky, exhaustion crept over you like a heavy blanket.
Returning to Ekko’s chambers felt like stepping into a sanctuary. The room was quiet, the gentle hum of activity outside muffled by the thick wood and steel walls. The soft glow of a makeshift lamp illuminated the space, casting warm shadows across the worn furniture. The room smelled faintly of oil and smoke, mixed with something earthy. You didn’t even bother taking off your boots, flopping onto the bed with a sigh and burying your face in the worn but surprisingly soft blankets.
Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours. You weren’t sure. You only stirred when you heard the sound of the door opening and closing quietly. Lifting your head, you spotted Ekko standing near the entrance, his figure backlit by the dim lights outside. His jacket was off, his sleeveless shirt revealing the lean muscle of his arms. His hair was tied back tonight, though a few strands had fallen loose, framing his face in a way that made your chest tighten.
“You look dead,” he teased, though there was no humor in his voice. His eyes swept over you, his usual sharpness softened by concern.
“I feel dead,” you replied, your voice muffled by the pillow.
Ekko crossed the room in a few long strides, pulling a chair closer to sit by the bedside. “Long day?”
You nodded, not bothering to sit up. “Rewarding, though. The kids are exhausting, but in a good way. I think I’m finally starting to feel like I’m… I don’t know, contributing?”
He leaned back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest as he watched you. “You’ve done more than enough already. They’re warming up to you faster than I thought they would. Guess you’ve got a knack for making people feel safe.”
His words brought a faint smile to your lips, but your body felt too heavy to do much more than that. “Maybe. Or maybe they just like the shiny Piltover noble playing dress-up as a Firelight.”
“You’re more than that,” he said softly, almost too softly for you to hear. The weight of his gaze drew your attention. Turning your head, you found his eyes fixed on you, dark and intense in a way that made your stomach twist. There was something unspoken in his expression, something raw and magnetic.
“Ekko,” you said, his name slipping from your lips like a warning. He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he brought himself closer to your level. The air between you grew thick, charged with an unspoken tension that neither of you seemed willing to break.
Your breath hitched as his hand moved, not to touch you, but to hover near your face, as if he wasn’t sure he had the right. “You should rest,” he said finally, though his voice was strained, as though it was the last thing he wanted to say.
“I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice betrayed you. There was a nervous tremor there, one that you couldn’t quite suppress.
“You’re not,” he replied, his tone sharper this time, though the edge was softened by the way his hand dropped to his lap, curling into a fist. “And you shouldn’t have to keep pretending you are.”
You swallowed hard, your heart racing in your chest. He was too close, his presence overwhelming in a way that left you both yearning and terrified. For a moment, you thought he might lean in, that he might close the unbearable distance between you. And part of you wanted him to. But you couldn’t.
As if sensing your hesitation, Ekko pulled back, though his expression betrayed the conflict raging inside him. He rose from the chair abruptly, turning his back to you as he ran a hand over his face. “I need to check on something,” he said, his voice tight.
You sat up slightly, confusion and guilt warring within you. “Ekko, wait—”
“There’s food on the table,” he interrupted, not turning to face you. “You should eat. And…” He hesitated, his hand resting on the doorknob. “I left something for you. Thought you might like it.”
Before you could respond, he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. You stared at the space he’d just vacated, the room suddenly feeling much larger and lonelier than it had before.
Rising from the bed, you made your way to the small table in the corner. A covered plate of food sat there, still warm, alongside a neatly wrapped package. Your fingers trembled as you opened it, revealing a small, intricately carved pendant in the shape of a firefly. The sight of it brought a lump to your throat. You clutched the pendant tightly, sinking back into the chair as a wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm you. Ekko had left, but his presence lingered in every corner of the room, in the care he’d shown you, in the gift he’d left behind.
You closed your eyes, the weight of the hectic day and the unresolved tension between you pressing down like a heavy blanket. But even as exhaustion pulled you under, you couldn’t shake the memory of his eyes. The way they had looked at you, filled with longing and restraint.
Hours ticked by like an endless parade of thoughts that refused to settle. You sat in Ekko’s chair, knees drawn up slightly as your elbows resting on them. cradling your head in your hands. A sigh escaped your lips, heavy and full of frustration, as your thoughts spiraled into overthinking once again. Why hadn’t he kissed you earlier?
At first, you tried to dismiss it as if it was nothing, just a fleeting moment, something that could be easily explained away by the heat of the moment. But deep down, you knew better. The way he had looked at you wasn’t casual or friendly. It was something more, something intense and unspoken.
Still, you couldn’t help but doubt. Maybe he had been teasing, the way friends sometimes did to lighten the mood. Maybe he didn’t feel the same, and you’d simply read too much into it. But then your mind wandered back to that day in your bedroom. The memory of his closeness as the tension that sparked between you like lightning in a thunderstorm.
Friends don’t act like that.
But then again, why had he ignored you for weeks after that moment? Why hadn’t he said anything or even done anything, to give you some clarity? The questions swirled in your head, each one feeding into the next, until your chest felt tight and your breathing shallow.
You let out another sigh, leaning forward until your forehead almost touched your knees. “What are you doing to me, Ekko?” you murmured to yourself, the words barely audible in the quiet room.
You glanced at the door for the hundredth time, wondering where he’d gone. What was keeping him out so late or rather so early, given the faint light of sun beginning to creep into the room. Would he even come back tonight? Or was this going to be like before, where he disappeared for days, leaving you to piece together the fragments of what you thought you understood about him?
The thought of being ignored again made your chest ache in a way you weren’t prepared to admit. You leaned back in the chair, closing your eyes against the onslaught of emotions. Sleep pulled at you, but you resisted, stubbornly staying awake as if you could somehow summon him back to you. Eventually, though, your exhaustion won. Your head lolled against the back of the chair, your breathing evening out as sleep claimed you.
Ekko slipped into the room quietly, his footsteps barely making a sound against the wooden floor. The sight of you hit him like a punch to the chest. There you were, curled up in his chair, fast asleep. Your face was soft in slumber, but there was a faint crease between your brows. Almost as if even your dreams couldn’t fully erase the tension you’d been feeling. His gaze softened as he took you in, a pang of guilt threading through his chest.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Jeez…” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Carefully, he crossed the room and crouched beside you. You stirred slightly at his presence, murmuring something incoherent. Without thinking, he slid one arm under your knees and the other around your back, lifting you effortlessly into his strong arms.
You mumbled something again, your head lolling against his shoulder. Which caused him to freeze for a moment, waiting to see if you’d wake up. But you didn’t. He carried you to the bed and laid you down gently, pulling the blanket over you.
As he turned to step away, he felt your hand grab weakly at his shirt. “Don’t go,” you murmured, your voice thick with sleep. He froze in place, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked down at you, your eyes half-open and drowsy but locked onto his.
“You shouldn’t sleep in a chair,” you continued, your words slightly slurred. “And you… shouldn’t leave me like that.”
His breath caught. “I wasn’t going to leave,” he said softly.
You tugged at his shirt again, pulling him closer. He sank down onto the edge of the bed, his face hovering close to yours. “Why didn’t you kiss me earlier?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
The question hung in the air, heavy and electrified. Ekko’s eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “What?”
“When you had the chance,” you mumbled, your voice fading as sleep pulled at you again. “You looked like you wanted to, but you didn’t. Why?”
He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. The proximity, the softness of your voice and the vulnerability in your question. It was almost too much to handle. He didn’t know how to answer. Hell, he didn’t even know if he could answer it.
“You were exhausted,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t think it was the right time.”
You hummed softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re so stubborn,” you whispered, your eyes drifting shut.
He exhaled shakily, his heart continued its rapid pace as he watched you fall back into sleep. For a moment, he just sat there, his gaze tracing the outline of your beautiful face. He wanted to kiss you. God, he wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt. But he wouldn’t. Not yet. Not like this.
Instead, he stood and grabbed the chair, dragging it closer to the bed. He sat down and rested his head in his hands, trying to steady his breathing, to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He stayed there until the drowsiness claimed him too.
You woke to the warmth of sunlight streaming through the cracks in the wooden walls, a golden glow bathing the room. It was already late, half the day gone, by the looks of it. You woke up to the warmth of the sun shining through the cracks on the wooden walls. It bathed the room. You stretched lazily under the blanket, the aches in your body from the past few days reduced to a dull throb. Turning your head, you saw Ekko. Who was still slumped in the chair beside the bed, asleep.
Your brow furrowed as you watched him. His head rested awkwardly on one hand, his legs stretched out, his shoulders slightly hunched. How could he sleep like that? He must’ve spent the entire night sitting there just to keep an eye on you.
How can he sacrifice his comfort like this?
You studied him, taking in the faint lines of exhaustion etched into his features. He looked so tired, so worn down. Ekko carried so much on his shoulders. The Firelights, the fight for Zaun’s freedom, the safety of the kids who looked up to him. And not to mention you as well. It wasn’t fair, you thought. He gave so much of himself and rarely took a moment for his own peace.
You slid out of bed quietly, wincing at the soreness in your muscles, and approached him. Gently, you placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him awake. “Ekko,” you said softly.
He stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering open, and then he bolted upright, instinctively swatting your hand away. His palm struck yours with more force than he intended, making you hiss at the sting.
“Shit,” he muttered, sitting up fully now, his face a mixture of alarm and regret. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” you interrupted, shaking your hand out with a small wince. “It happens.”
He ran a hand over his face, sighing heavily. “I shouldn’t have—”
“You shouldn’t have spent the whole night sleeping in a chair,” you cut in, your tone playful but firm. “Are you crazy? You’ll wreck your back.”
He shrugged, his lips twitching into a faint, sheepish smile. “It’s not the first time.”
“That doesn’t make it better,” you said, crossing your arms.
He gave you a tired chuckle, leaning back in the chair. “I’ll survive. I’ve been through worse.”
But that wasn’t enough for you. Watching him now, the weariness in his eyes even as he tried to act like everything was fine. An idea sparked in your mind, one that you knew he’d hate at first. But it was for his own good.
You grinned, your excitement bubbling over as you clapped your hands together. “I have a surprise for you!”
Ekko raised an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. “A surprise?”
“Yep!” you said, bouncing on your heels, your eyes alight with mischief. “But I’m not telling you what it is. You’ll just have to trust me.”
His skepticism deepened. “That sounds like a bad idea.”
“Oh, come on,” you teased, leaning down slightly to meet his gaze. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
He gave you a flat look. “I think I left it behind when I became the leader of the Firelights.”
You pouted dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. “That’s tragic. Guess I’ll have to help you find it again.”
Ekko shook his head, laughing softly despite himself. “You sure are something alright”
“Yep!” you chirped, grabbing his hand and tugging him to his feet. “Now, come on.”
He resisted, planting his feet firmly. “Wait. I have things to do. The kids—”
“They’ll survive without you for a few hours,” you said, cutting him off with a pointed look. “You need this, Ekko. Trust me.” He opened his mouth to argue, but the determination in your eyes stopped him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But you’d better not get me killed.”
You grinned triumphantly, grabbing a scarf from the nearby table. “Oh, and one more thing.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?”
You stepped closer, holding up the scarf. “You’re getting blindfolded.”
“Nope,” he said immediately, crossing his arms.
“Yep,” you countered, your grin widening. “It’s part of the surprise.”
“I’m not letting you blindfold me,” he said firmly.
“Aw, are you scared?” you teased, leaning in closer.
His jaw tightened, and you could tell he was trying not to rise to the bait. “I’m not scared. I just don’t like surprises.”
“Well, too bad,” you said, wrapping the scarf around his eyes before he could stop you. He grumbled under his breath, but you could see the faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re lucky I’m weak for you,” he muttered, his voice low and resigned. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you quickly brushed it off, tightening the knot of the blindfold. “You won’t regret this. Promise.”
He sighed dramatically. “I already regret it.”
You laughed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward the door. “Come on, leader of the Firelights. Let me lead you away to freedom.”
He followed reluctantly, grumbling the whole way, but you could feel the tension in his hand slowly easing as he let himself trust you. And deep down, you knew that despite his protests, he didn’t truly mind.
Ekko groaned softly as you guided him along yet another bend in the trail. The blindfold tied snugly around his head meant he couldn’t see where he was stepping, which made the journey feel even longer. His feet ached from the uneven terrain, and he couldn’t tell how far you’d dragged him from the hideout. “How much longer?” he asked, a playful but weary edge in his voice. “I’m pretty sure I’ve walked enough to circle Zaun twice by now.”
You laughed softly, your tone teasing. “Not much farther. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
He scoffed but didn’t pull away from your guiding hand. “You said that an hour ago.”
“Well, this time, I mean it!” you chirped, your excitement palpable. “And quit complaining. You’re a leader, remember? A little hike shouldn’t break you.”
Ekko grumbled under his breath but didn’t argue. He trusted you, blindfold and all. Still, his curiosity was killing him. The journey had been filled with faint sounds of nature, quite the opposite to the chaos of Zaun. The air was fresher here, the scent of greenery blending with faintly damp earth. Birds chirped somewhere above, and there was an unfamiliar stillness that made him uneasy in its serenity.
Finally, the sound of running water reached his ears. It was gentle but distinct, the rhythmic splash growing louder as you led him forward.
“Is that a waterfall?” Ekko questioned as he looked around blindfolded, listening with his ears.
“Nope,” you said cheekily, your grin audible in your tone.
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
The moment his boots scuffed against flat, smooth rock, you stopped. You squeezed his hand and stepped in front of him, your fingers brushing against the scarf as you untied the blindfold. “Okay, are you ready?” you asked, your voice playful.
“Depends,” he shot back. “Am I about to fall into a pit of snakes or something?”
You rolled your eyes. “Just hold still.” With a dramatic flourish, you pulled the blindfold away. “Ta-da!”
Ekko blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light. The sight before him was breathtaking. The waterfall cascaded gently down smooth stone, its waters pooling into a crystal-clear basin surrounded by moss-covered rocks. The greenery around it was lush, vibrant, and untouched, with delicate vines draping over the edges of the falls like curtains. Shafts of sunlight streamed through gaps in the canopy, casting a golden glow over the scene. It felt like another world. Like something out of a dream. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just taking it all in.
“Well?” you asked, bouncing slightly on your heels. “Do you like it?”
“It’s… something,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual. His gaze lingered on the water, the way it shimmered in the sunlight. “I didn’t know there were places like this between Piltover and Zaun.”
You smiled, feeling proud of yourself. “Told you it’d be worth it.”
He turned to look at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll give you that. But…” His expression shifted, concern creeping in. “Should I really be out here? The hideout—”
You cut him off, your tone firm but not unkind. “Ekko.”
He paused, his brow furrowing slightly.
“I’m serious,” you continued, your voice softening. “If you really feel like you need to go back, you can. I won’t stop you.” You hesitated, your hands fidgeting at your sides. “I mean… I’ll understand.”
He studied your face, noticing the way your eyes darted away as if you were trying to hide how much the thought bothered you. You were giving him a choice, but it was clear how much you didn’t want him to leave.
Ekko let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re really bad at hiding what you’re feeling, you know that?”
You glanced up at him, startled. “Who, me?”
“Yes you. But relax,” he said, his tone gentle. “I’ll stay.”
Your eyes lit up, and before he could say anything else, you were practically jumping in place, your joy spilling over. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said with a small chuckle, watching you with amusement. “Don’t make me regret it.”
You grinned, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the water. “You won’t. I promise.”
For the next two hours, the two of you wandered the area, exploring the hidden beauty of the place. The tension from earlier melted away, replaced by a comfortable ease as you talked and laughed together.
Ekko, ever curious, peppered you with questions about your life topside. “So, what’s it like being a noble?” he asked, kicking a stray pebble along the path. “I’m guessing it’s all fancy parties and expensive clothes?”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Not quite. Sure, there’s all the glamour, but it’s not as fun as it sounds.”
“Oh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
You sighed, nudging a rock with the tip of your boot. “My parents had this… idea of what the perfect daughter should be. Polished, obedient, always smiling. I never really fit the mold.”
Ekko tilted his head, studying you. “Doesn’t sound like you.”
“Exactly,” you said with a wry smile. “I was always too stubborn, too opinionated. They wanted me to follow their rules, and I wanted to make my own.”
“Sounds familiar,” he said, a hint of understanding in his voice.
You glanced at him, curiosity sparking. “What about you? Ever feel like people expect too much from you?”
He let out a short laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “All the time. Being the leader, people look to me for answers. For direction. It’s… a lot.”
You nodded, your heart aching for him. “And yet you never take a break.”
“Someone has to keep things running,” he said simply.
You stopped walking, turning to face him. “And what happens when you burn out? What then?”
He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, your words sinking in.
“See that’s what this is about,” you said gently. “You need to take care of yourself, too, Ekko. Not just everyone else.”
He looked away, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he gave a small nod, the vulnerability in his expression making your chest tighten.
Soon the peace of the waterfall was shattered by the faint sound of voices approaching. Ekko froze, his head snapping toward the direction of the noise. You followed his gaze, your heart sinking as the muffled conversation grew clearer. It wasn’t just random passersby. The tone was too low and suspicious.
“Get down,” Ekko whispered urgently, grabbing your arm and pulling you toward the water.
“Ow, hey-!” you hissed back, but before you could argue, he tugged you forward.
The two of you splashed quietly into the cool water, wading toward a large rock near the waterfall’s edge. Its size provided enough cover to hide you both, but your movements felt clumsy and loud in the stillness of the moment. Every splash made your heart race, and every breath felt too loud.
You crouched low, gripping the edge of the rock as you peered out cautiously. The voices were clearer now, distinctly rough and laced with malice.
“… shipments are in place. Should be an easy job if everyone keeps quiet,” one of the men said, his voice gruff.
“Easy? You think dealing with Piltover’s dogs is ever easy?” another sneered.
“Relax. It’s all set up. By the time they realize what’s happening, we’ll already be gone,” the first man replied with a dismissive chuckle.
Your ears were ringing, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making it hard to focus. Your breathing quickened, and the world around you felt distant, the voices blending into an indistinct hum. “Hey,” Ekko spoke quietly beside you, nudging your arm. But you didn’t respond, your mind spinning.
“Hey!” he whispered again, more insistent this time. He leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. Finally, his voice broke through the fog in your mind. You turned your head slightly, meeting his sharp gaze. Before you could say anything, his hand clamped over your mouth, silencing you.
“Don’t-” he mouthed, his tone firm but his touch surprisingly gentle. His eyes were steady, reassuring, even as they flicked toward the Chem-Barons’ direction.
You nodded, your breathing still uneven but quieter now. His hand lingered for a second longer before he slowly pulled it away, his fingers brushing against your skin. The tension between you was palpable. The closeness and adrenaline, it all made the space between you feel charged with something. You were about to whisper something when the sound of boots crunching against the rocky terrain snapped your focus back.
“Keep it moving,” one of the voices barked. “We’re wasting time.”
The group of men moved on, their voices fading into the distance. Only when the silence stretched did Ekko exhale, his shoulders finally relaxing. He peeked cautiously around the rock, ensuring they were truly gone before turning back to you.
“We’re clear,” he whispered, though his voice carried an edge of lingering tension.
You nodded, still crouched behind the rock, your limbs stiff from staying still for so long. Ekko moved toward the water’s edge and helped you climb back onto the bank. You followed his lead, water dripping from your clothes and pooling at your feet as you tried to steady your racing heart.
“Chem-Barons,” he muttered, more to himself than you. He looked toward the direction the men had gone, his expression hardening. “They’re up to something. And if they’re this close, it’s bad news.”
You wrung out your sleeves, watching him warily. “Do you think they saw us?”
“No,” he said firmly, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Still… we need to get back.”The urgency in his voice left no room for argument, and you agreed without hesitation.
The journey back to the hideout was tense. Ekko moved swiftly, his steps purposeful and his gaze darting toward every sound in the dense trees. You struggled to keep up, your thoughts spiraling as your footsteps lagged behind his.
What if the Chem-Barons had seen you? What if they followed you back? Your chest tightened as the weight of your continuous overthinking pressed down on you. You replayed the encounter in your mind, picking apart every detail. Had you been too loud? Too slow? What if something went wrong because of you?
“Keep up,” Ekko called over his shoulder, his voice low but urgent.
You blinked, realizing how far behind you’d fallen. Quickening your pace, you forced yourself to focus on his figure ahead of you, his steady movements grounding you in the moment.
When you finally reached the hideout, the familiar sounds of laughter and the hum of activity greeted you. The Firelights’ sanctuary seemed untouched, the chaos of the outside world unable to penetrate its walls. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. Ekko headed straight for Scar, who was leaning against a rusty table, tinkering with a small device.
“Everything okay?” Ekko asked, his tone sharp.
Scar glanced up, his brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah. Quiet as usual. Why?”
Ekko hesitated, his jaw tightening as he glanced over his shoulder at you.
“Oh nothing, just checking.” he said finally, though the tension in his posture remained. Scar gave him a curious look but shrugged, returning to his work.
You lingered near the entrance, your damp clothes clinging to your skin as you scanned the area. Everything seemed normal, the kids laughing, people working on repairs, the occasional drone zipping by. But you couldn’t shake the unease that had settled in your chest.
Later that evening, you sat by yourself in one of the quieter corners of the hideout, staring blankly at the firelight lamp in front of you. Your mind was still spinning, your earlier overthinking creeping back in.
“You okay?” Ekko’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to find him standing nearby, his expression softer now.
“Yeah,” you said quickly, though the tightness in your voice betrayed you.
He frowned, stepping closer and crouching down so he was at eye level with you. “You’ve been quiet since we got back. What’s going on?”
You hesitated, unsure how to put your thoughts into words. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about what happened earlier. What if we were seen? What if they followed us? What if—”
“Hey,” he interrupted, his voice firm but kind. “Nothing happened. Everything is fine. The hideout is fine.” You nodded, but your shoulders remained tense.
Ekko sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “Worrying until you exhaust yourself i see.”
“I just can’t help it,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
He sat down beside you, close enough that his knee brushed against yours. “Look, I get it. It’s a lot to deal with. But we can’t let them get in our heads. That’s what they want—to make us paranoid, to make us slip up.”
You looked at him, his calm determination grounding you once more. “I just don’t want to fuck things over for the millionth time.”
“You won’t,” he said simply, his confidence in you unwavering. For a moment, the tension between you eased, and you allowed yourself to breathe.
The night stretched on, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence. When Ekko finally stood, he stretched and yawned, his usual energy dimmed by the day’s events.
“Well, I’m gonna check on a few things,” he said, though his tone lacked its usual conviction.
You joking said, raised an eyebrow. “Here you go again, always busy.”
He smirked, his usual charm peeking through. “Says the person who can’t stop worrying.” You rolled your eyes but smiled. As he walked away, you found yourself watching him, your chest tightening with admiration. You couldn’t quite name why. The hideout was quiet now, most of its inhabitants having turned in for the night. You eventually made your way to your small corner of the space, lying down on your bed and staring up at the ceiling.
But sleep didn’t come easily. Your mind kept drifting back to Ekko. The way he had looked at you by the waterfall, the way his hand had lingered on your arm when he pulled you out of the water, the way he had stayed by your side despite everything. Ekko, it’s always him. He always even if you tried to deny it, has an affect on you. You sighed, closing your eyes and willing your racing thoughts to quiet.
A wind of cool night air hit you as you slipped out of the hideout. The faint scent of distant rain mixing with the scent of metal and smoke that always lingered in the air of Zaun. Ekko had been out helping with a situation that had gotten out of hand. It had something to do with one of the Firelights getting into trouble, as usual. He hadn’t been there to protest when you quietly slipped out of the hideout, and part of you was relieved. You needed to clear your head, to have a moment of peace where you didn’t have to think about the danger you constantly felt closing in around you. It slowly suffocating you. Unbearable.
You had heard rumors, of course. Whispers and murmurs of people coming after you because of who you were, because of your connection to the topside. They had no idea who you were, only what they thought you were. You couldn’t allow them to find out. But tonight, you weren’t thinking about that. You were thinking about how to live in the moment, even if it was fleeting.
The Last Drop was not your first choice, but it was the closest. The faint buzz of people laughing, drinking, and shouting hit your ears as you stepped inside. Your heart raced slightly, but you pushed it down. You’d taken precautions, after all. The cloak you wore concealed the colors of your family, the opulence that could mark you a target from a mile away. With your hood low, you blended in with the crowd, keeping your gaze focused on the bar, where the noise was loud enough to drown out any attention.
“Drink?” the barkeep asked, raising an eyebrow at you, the flickering light of the bar casting long shadows across his face.
“Something strong,” you replied, trying to sound casual, though your nerves were anything but.
A quick, hard drink was what you needed. You knew the risks of coming here. This wasn’t the safest place in Zaun, but it was the only place that wouldn’t ask questions about who you were. The clinking of glass and the murmur of conversation surrounded you, a blend of voices that blurred into one singular buzz in your head.
You let your gaze wander as you took your first sip. The bitter warmth of the alcohol spread through your throat, giving you a momentary sense of relief, but it didn’t last. Your eyes flicked to the edges of the bar, noticing the way people moved. There was a tension in the air, something off, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Your fingers tightened around the glass as the sensation of being watched crept down your spine.
Before you could dismiss the feeling, something sharp pricked your neck. You froze, the sensation like a needle pushing into your skin. A wave of dizziness hit you instantly, disorienting and deep. You jerked your hand to your neck, but there was nothing to see. No blood, no sign of injury. Just a strange, heavy heat creeping through your veins, seeping into your bloodstream, clouding your thoughts.
The world around you tilted. It was a slow shift at first, just a sense of things being slightly off, but soon it became overwhelming. The air felt thicker, the sounds louder, as though the entire bar was buzzing, vibrating against the space between you and them. Your chest tightened, and a cold sweat broke out across your skin. ‘No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not now.
Shimmer. You realized it too late. The telltale signs were unmistakable. That feeling where your body was being pulled apart, your thoughts slowly being smothered by a fog. You clenched your teeth, trying to fight it, trying to keep yourself from losing control.
“Hey, you okay?” a voice broke through the chaos in your mind. One of the patrons had noticed, a man with wild eyes and a drink in his hand. He was staring at you with concern, but you barely registered his words.
“I’m fine,” you said, though it came out more like a growl. You stood up quickly, the motion far too fast for your brain to follow. The room spun around you, the floor swaying beneath your feet like the deck of a ship caught in a storm. Your hands shot out to steady yourself against the bar, but it felt like everything was slipping away.
The bartender moved closer, his voice urgent. “You need to sit down. You’re not looking good.”
But you couldn’t. You couldn’t let them see you like this. You tried to move toward the door, but your legs wouldn’t obey. Each step was like wading through thick tar, the world warping around you. Your vision blurred, and before you knew it, you were on the floor, struggling to push yourself up, your limbs stiff and heavy.
“Help!” someone shouted, but the word sounded distant, muffled, as if coming from underwater.
You didn’t know what was happening to you anymore. The pain in your head started to intensify. No. Don’t lose control. But it was too late. The shimmer was already twisting your mind, and it wasn’t long before the voices began. They started quiet, like whispers in the back of your head, but soon they became clear.
Someone spoke your name. Your father’s voice.
“You never lived up to my expectations, did you?” The accusation burned in your ears. “Always the disappointment.”
You wanted to scream at the voice to shut up, to make it go away, but all you could do was stand there, shaking, your hands gripping the counter as you tried to steady yourself.
“You think you can escape me? No one escapes me,” your father’s voice mocked. “No one escapes their blood.”
The voices overlapped. Shut up. You couldn’t make out the words. You only felt the anger, regret, and shame. You felt like you were drowning in it. The voices kept yelling, taunting you, until you couldn’t tell what was real anymore. You swung at the air, trying to bat them away, but there was nothing there.
Why don’t you listen? You never do what I ask, do you?
Another voice, it was your mother now, cold and distant. “You’re useless to me. Always have been.”
The pain was unbearable. Your head throbbed as you sank to your knees, clutching at your skull, your fingers digging into your scalp in a futile attempt to stop the onslaught of voices. Get out of my head!
You screamed, but it was a scream that only echoed inside your mind. Your body trembled, and you stumbled backward, falling into the chaos that surrounded you.
“Someone get them out of here!” someone shouted, but it was like the words couldn’t break through the fog that had settled over your mind. You could hear them, feel them moving around you, but they were all far away. Then, another voice. This one was different. It was familiar.
“Hey, listen to me.” Ekko. His voice, clear and strong, cut through the chaos. You tried to focus on it, on him, but it was so hard. Your mind was a warzone. You gasped for air, your hands pressed against your chest, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of the shimmer. You looked around, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw him standing there, reaching out for you, but when you blinked, he was gone.
Your vision darkened, the last remnants of the shimmer clouding everything. You couldn’t stand anymore. You collapsed against the ground, your breath ragged as the world spun out of control.
“Ekko…” you whispered, but you weren’t sure if you said it out loud or if it was just another hallucination. The voices faded as everything went black.
part two soon!
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taglist: @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights @chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct @celineandtulips @stuckinaoaktree @fxxvz @jadziulaa @luclue @1intrustivethoughts @finnsky666 @blkmystery @serena6728 @mvistl @kaedeprinz @alientee @ametheslime @turquoizxe @emforjin
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rizsu ¡ 5 months ago
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+ extra: canon-type family relations: jin itadori & sukuna are brothers, itadori is a child here ( 8 years ).
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boyfriend-girlfriend life with sukuna except he thinks he's being replaced — in all seriousness. sukuna's seconds away from destroying his nephew's remote-controlled cars collection.
can the kid move? he wants yuuji gone. he's not jealous of him, he just wants your undivided attention back on him. if he knew beforehand that agreeing to jin's invitation over would result in this, he'd probably fly out of the country with you to avoid it.
manspreading on the sofa with one hand slung over the backrest, he swirls the beer in his other hand. his brother's in the kitchen, stacking the extra beers in the fridge.
“you can help me, you know?” jin calls sukuna out, lacing his voice with slight annoyance.
“nah,” sukuna responds, waving him off.
he's busy watching you sit on the floor with yuuji, pretending to race against time with him.
it's not all that bad when he thinks about it — never mind, it is. the kid's had you on the floor since you walked through the door. not a moment spared for his uncle. all yuuji did was look up at sukuna, stick his tongue out, and engulfed your legs in a big hug.
ever since then he's been sulking in the corner. jin can only pity him for so long — it's been an hour, he needs to get over it.
jin sneaks up behind sukuna, gathering his fingers to surprise attack him. in only a matter of seconds he's subjected to the ear-pinch-and-ring combination.
sukuna flinches, immediately swatting jin's hand off.
“you must've gone fucking crazy!?”
he gets yet another ear-pinch-and-ring combination from jin.
“i have a son, don't curse.”
“fuck that boy,” he whispers under his breath, cupping his ear. it's hot from the pain — most likely already gained a red shade.
even after such commotion both yuuji's and your attention didn't turn to them. you both are far too immersed in the racing game.
the brothers are now both on the sofa: one has his attention on you and the other has his attention on the unattended mail on the coffee table that's been neglected two days ago.
“this one? no... that one? also no...”
“jin, quit mumbling.”
“cover your ears then.”
rolling his eyes, sukuna downs the last bit of beer remaining in the bottle. he's now officially out of beer and too lazy to get one.
being left without a distraction, he's forced to observe jin's house. it's nothing extraordinary. he believes his house to be better.
he voices out a sigh, slouching and spreading his legs further apart. the boredom's hitting him earlier than it usually does — this is your fault. if you weren't busy zooming cars around the living room with yuuji then he wouldn't be bored.
as sukuna's busy with complaining, he doesn't notice yuuji speed walking to the sofa with a broken car in hand. you're right behind him, sporting a smile that says you got yourself in some trouble.
“daaad, the car!” yuuji whines, climbing onto the free spot between his dad and his uncle.
jin hums, raising his eyebrows but his gaze is fixed on the mail as he's still sorting them out.
“it broke,” the boy complains, pouting at the toy.
“it lost control and rammed into the wall,” you explained further, sitting on the armrest on sukuna's side.
sukuna's arm fixes itself around your hips. he's slightly smirking at the news.
that doesn't go unnoticed by you. you're more than familiar with your boyfriend's joy at other's misery. you shot him a glare with a light tap on his shoulder.
“is that so?” jin's attention is now fully on his boy. he takes the glasses off, pulling yuuji onto his lap.
taking the car into his hand, he inspects the damages. it's not too much, and it's fixable.
“dad will fix it later, okay,” reassuring yuuji, jin ruffles his hair.
yuuji nods, jumping down from his dad's lap to return to the toys. as he's on his way, he turns, appearing to have suddenly remembered something.
“(y/n), come play with me!”
“no, she won't,” sukuna answers for you, ignoring the harder hit you gave him on his shoulder.
“i'll be right there, yuuji,” this time you answer, giving him a warm smile and a thumbs up.
“give the boy a fucking brother,” sukuna grumbles, looking at jin with pure annoyance.
jin shoots his brother a smile, giving him no reply before he goes back to reading the final mail of the bunch.
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mrsbarnesblog ¡ 6 months ago
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blanket
masterlist
requests are open
summary: your innocent intention to sit with Rafe on the balcony turns into you being spread out on top of him
words count: 1.2k
warnings: +18❗️smut, swearing, fingering, manhandling, established relationship, very convincing and hot Rafe, slight exhibitionism kink?, dirty talk, pet names
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You came outside from the comfort of the house to the huge balcony on the second floor, wrapped in a warm blanket, and found your boyfriend sitting on the couch. He was looking insanely good with his freshly buzzed head and arms crossed over his chest, which made him look even bigger. When Rafe’s eyes caught your sleepy and soft form, he smiled up at you, adjusting himself on the couch and reaching out with his hand towards you. You obediently sat on his lap, covering you both with a blanket and snuggling into his neck. 
“What are you doin’ here?” You whispered, enjoying Rafe's comforting scent and the silence that surrounded you. No one from his family was currently at home and you had been hanging out there since morning. Rafe, not bothered by anyone and finally completely relaxed, left you in his bed as you seemingly fell asleep during the movie. 
“Nothing, sweets. I thought you were asleep.” Rafe sneaked his hands under your blanket, wrapping one of them around your back and stroking your thigh with the other one. You were only wearing one of his big t-shirts that could barely cover your ass, and he could not help himself but slide his fingers to the line of your panties. Your body tensed at the sudden ticklish feeling, your eyes snapping open, looking up at your unbothered boyfriend. 
“Don’t even try it, Cameron. We are not doing it here.” You tried to stand up from his lap, but as soon as your body moved away, you quickly got pushed back. Rafe managed to manhandle you that way so your back was pressed against his chest, ass right on his crotch, where you could already feel his erection. “Gosh, is there a time of the day when you are not horny?”
Rafe never failed to amaze you with the way he wanted you all the time. At any time of the day or night, at any place, it was enough for you to just look at him a certain way and he was already all over you. 
“We are so doing it here…” His hot breath on the side of your neck and his gentle kisses on your tender spots caused your eyes to widen. “Didn’t hear you complain about my sex drive when I fucked your brains out... C’mon, angel, open those pretty legs for me.” Rafe ran his hands up your thighs, going right under the t-shirt to put it over your stomach for better control. 
“Rafe, no… This is a bad idea. We’re— we’re outside. People might hear or see us.” You pushed your legs closer together. As much as this thought excited you and you couldn’t deny already being turned on, you tried to hold on to the last strings of your common sense. 
Rafe cursed under his breath and you could sense the way his eyes rolled back in annoyance at you not listening to him. With a quick motion of his free hand, your legs slightly parted and it gave him an opportunity to hook them over his own and make you completely spread out on him. 
Thank God that you took the blanket with you. 
You gasped, realizing that you had almost no room for the movement and that you were entirely under Rafe’s control. It was not that you did not like it; in fact, all it made you want to do was grind on him to get rid of the sensation in between your legs. 
“Sh-h, baby. Just let me take care of you, m’kay?” He whispered into your ear and you had no choice but to nod. Rafe’s hand, the one that wasn’t wrapped around your waist, went up your leg until his fingertips met the wet cotton of your panties. “Fuckin’ hell. Acting like a shy girl, but your body betrays you, huh? Do you want me to fuck you here so everyone could hear us?” 
Your eyes rolled back, and your head fell on Rafe’s shoulder when he pushed your panties to the side, sliding his fingers up and down your pussy. He gathered your slik, then circled your clit and went back to your dripping hole, teasing you until your body became a complete shivering mess. 
Rafe didn’t give you any time for preparation as two thick digits slipped inside of you, immediately curling in a perfect way that made you see stars. Your back arched against his chest, and a loud moan escaped your lips before you knew it. One of your hands slapped over your mouth in a weak attempt to muffle your noises, while the other one found Rafe’s wrist under the blanket to hold onto something. 
“Yeah, that’s right, angel. Scream for me. Let ‘em know who makes you feel good.” His fingers did not stop moving in and out of you for a second, making the loudest noises that caused your face to heat up even more. You couldn’t imagine what people might’ve heard if someone decided to walk past Tanneyhill. 
“Ra-Rafe! I can’t, slow down... Too much– fuck!” You squacked at the feeling of the third finger slipping inside and the palm of his hand pressing on your sensitive clit. Your cries were too loud to try to cover them; your body was physically unable to function properly. You simultaneously tried to escape overstimulation and get more of the white pleasure that you were currently experiencing. Yet, all you could do was squirm in your boyfriend’s hands and pray that he wouldn’t decide to edge you. 
“Na-ah, look at you. All spread out, wet and whiny for me. Do ya think I’ll stop?” He gripped your tits under the shirt, playing with your sensitive nipples. “Taking my fingers like a good fucking girl... Shit, if you won’t stop moving your sweet ass over my cock, I’ll fuck you right here.” He growled in your ear. 
“Please, oh my God, Rafe!” 
“Are you gonna cum, my love? Yeah, do it right here. Cum on my fingers, so I could properly fuck you.” You started gasping for air; your legs were trembling and only stayed in place because of Rafe’s own, which were holding you. The mixture of his name and incoherent begging was slipping out of your mouth until you finally fell over the odge with a silent scream.
Your heart was pounding in your ears as Rafe continued to move his fingers slowly, allowing you to extend your orgasm. He then pulled out and helped to put your aching legs on the floor. Your entire body melted on top of your boyfriend, and you sighed in blissful pleasure. 
Rafe chuckled, caressing your almost-naked body under the blanket and kissing the side of your neck. 
“Now turn around.” 
Your eyes snapped open. He could not be serious. “What?”
“You should’ve thought better before coming here, lookin’ all soft and sleepy, baby. And on top of that, your moans made me so fucking hard that I can barely think straight.” He said, being dramatic as usual. When you didn’t make a move, Rafe groaned, cursing under his breath, manhandling you again. 
The blanket was carelessly thrown on the floor as your back hit the couch, with Rafe comfortably placing himself in between your spread and trembling legs. “Now show how you really sound with my dick inside of you.” He smirked, leaving no room for complaints, and finally connected his lips with yours.
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the-hilda-librarians-wife ¡ 1 year ago
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How is this child so shaped
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@sketchbookweek Day 3 - Sun & Moon / Family
you know I had to bring up my sketchbook kid Mattie for this one. in my mind this is like…impromptu midnight storytime bc someone woke up the entire household and now she’s almost settled no one wants to get up or go back to bed
(Kaisa has become a little more comfortable with openly doing magic by this point, partly because of reconnecting with Tildy in season 2 and partly because no matter how shoddy her spells come out, they never fail to entertain her kids, especially her youngest. Kaisa does the best stories in this house. no child can resist magic floating pictures)
#hmkay Im reblogging this again bc you did NOT escape from me#alright so first (bc she’s always first to ME): MATTIE. BABYGIRL#SO funny to me how she woke up the entire household. and so sweet how they all just??? gathered round to hear a story???#like Hilda Freya and alfur did not HAVE to be there. but they are. bc it’s a FAMILY AAAAA#the explanation about Kaisa’s magic progression…. op if it were anyone else I’d think they wouldn’t believe it#but you’ve seen the Brainlink working so often that I think you will. remember the post where I was crying#bc I’d realized one of my SW pieces could have done with a sequel and I wouldn’t have time to write it? the fic in question is Curses.#and the second chapter would be about Kaisa being so insecure about her magic and thinking that Mattie was embarrassed/disappointed by it#with little instances of Kaisa using it around Mattie throughout the years#and then the fic would end when eventually Kaisa talked about it to Mattie and Mattie went#‘I love your magic mama. I can feel your love in it’#and anyway the thing I’m getting at here is that I WON SO HARD. THANKS FOR CONFIRMING (somewhat) MY HEADCANONS#ALSO BROWN EYED MATTIE WIN#next up is Freya. baby. babygirl. would murder me I’m sure. I love her she looks so squisheable#Hilda looks so CUTE that cozy next to her mothers. she accepted Kaisa into her family SO HARD I’m gonna CRY#sketchbook…. fucking sketchbook in love….. I’m having a heart attack#like it’s not that ‘butterflies in my belly’ love anymore. it’s steady and certain and they still hold that love and care for each other#even when sleep deprived and stressed that their baby was crying#it’s about the companionship#also damn girl the way you’ve been drawing Johanna’s hair lately. FIRE 🔥#lastly. you knew I was gonna talk about it. you freaking knew it. waddles. WADDLES.#sorry but it’s actually now canon that BatW is a story that they’re reading to Mattie. I DO make the rules and these are them#this made me. so emotional.#but I also appreciate the comedy of the implication that they read fanfic about them to their child VEJDBDJDB#Mattie goes ‘mama you’re the beast! and mum you’re the strong villager woman!! and Hildie is her daughter!!!’#‘but where am I :(((‘#and they have to make up a sequel there the witch and the villager have a baby who goes around giving the servants heart attacks#… it’s a good thing Mattie’s too young to speak here gendhsbshdn#another reason why it gives me feels: the way Kaisa is doing magic reminds me of that very first Kaisa fanart you made#looong time ago
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themidnightcrimson ¡ 26 days ago
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malevolent ࿏ wm
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summary: in which moving into a new house brings you horrors you never imagined.
words: 7.6k
warnings: forced breeding, strap-on, dubcon/noncon, demonic, horror, gore, top!wanda, evilmommydemoncockwanda4life
this is dark!fic for 18+ only. minors dni. read with discretion.
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The day was cold and bleak. The air had a frostiness to it that manifested in a sheen of white over the long-dead grass that had yellowed at the passing of autumn. The leaves scattered around were no longer vibrant reds and oranges but rather dulled browns. The trees were barren—dark, crooked cracks in the grey skyline. You noticed a pack of buzzards eating at roadkill.
Death.
Christmas was just around the corner but, unlike everywhere else in the country, this town seemed to not be celebrating much. You’d noticed that the very first time you drove through—this sort of head-down feeling about the place that differed so much from what it looked like. The town itself was charming and cutesy with so many little shops and beautiful gathering spaces. It was colorful, too. But something about it seemed greyed, like a ghost town almost except the people were still there. They didn’t talk much, especially not to outsiders apparently. They only whispered to each other with concerned faces and low voices, like they were afraid something lingering around in the air would hear them. They held their children very close to them.
So it wasn’t exactly the neighborliness of Westview that attracted you to move there. The town felt like something very dark had happened in a place that otherwise was a great place to live.
To be quite honest, the housing market in that town had taken a sudden dip down in the past couple months. You didn’t understand the housing market and thought maybe people just didn’t like to buy houses in the winter, but there were a few neighborhood roads that had recent For Sale signs up in every yard. It’s like people were evacuating the town. Running from something.
There was a specific house, actually, that had taken a steep dip down in price. It was put up for sale a couple months ago for a shockingly low price. You were stunned when you found out there were no bids, no one who had showed interest since it’d been put up. It was a beautiful house, a perfect family home. Not that you had any family to put in it. It was just you, but you liked space.
And for a price that cheap? In a quiet town away from the city? You couldn’t pass up on it. You were anxious, anyways, to have somewhere to yourself. Crashing on your friend’s couch wasn’t exactly the most glamorous post-breakup living arrangements, but the apartment lease was in your ex’s name.
Now you stood, on this dreadful day, in front of that house. You couldn’t help but feel like the windows were eyes staring at you, measuring you the way you were measuring it. Evaluating, judging. Maybe your confidence was just shot from all you’d been through the past few months. You had a house now. It was time to make it into a home.
It didn’t so much seem like the dark energy of town had made its way into your house, but rather that the house was some sort of energy field pushing it out into the town. This was a strong assumption to make, but as soon as you walked into the front door, you could feel it. The air was thick with something more than just the dust of time. It was still. So still. You could feel the still air on your face like a thick cloud of smoke that wasn’t there. It was energy brimming all around you. It made your stomach turn.
You couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t feel this eerie energy when you viewed the house. You felt it from the very beginning, but you just needed somewhere, and this house was the only one in your budget.
Cursed, is what the local kids called it. It was cursed because of the family who lived there. When you questioned your real estate agent about it, she sort of brushed it off and said that they just disappeared, that whatever happened to them, happened outside of this home.
You were reluctant to believe that story, but you were a skeptic anyways. If a young family had been axe murdered here or something, it was still just wood and brick to you.
The first few days in the house were busy. The moving company was taking all your stuff from your ex’s apartment and moving it into your house, which meant you had to deal with her calling you and screaming that she definitely bought that chair even though you distinctly remembered ordering it for the living room. You hated having to speak with her, with all her narcissistic tendencies. As much as you mourned the relationship, you mourned how stupid you were for ever putting up with so much for so long.
The house apparently was built in the 50’s and hadn’t been touched since besides the usual renovations every decade or so, which you enjoyed. Older houses had so much more character, like the adorable little partition window between the living room and the kitchen. You opened and closed the little shutters, imagining what 50’s housewife used this for so many years.
So you didn’t have much time to dwell on that eerie energy in the house while the movers brought everything in, until they left. And it was just you and those walls.
Luckily you could focus on unpacking all the boxes stacked around. You did so dutifully, and since you really had nothing else to do, you finished pretty quickly. By the next day you were untaping the last box which was full of random childhood artifacts. Trying to think of where you could put these things that you wanted to keep but didn’t really want just lying around, you suddenly realized that this house had an attic. The agent had vaguely pointed to it previously but you had never went up there.
Going upstairs, you opened the attic ladder and carefully climbed up the rickety thing, instantly inhaling thick layers of dust as your head entered the dark attic. To your surprise, you saw a few boxes lying around.
“Huh,” you murmured with interest as you swatted away cobwebs, the floor dangerously creaking beneath you as you approached the boxes. Whoever took the previously family’s stuff out of the house must have forgotten about the attic, which you found strange. Were they in that much of a hurry to get in and out?
Crouching down, you wiped the thick layer of dust off the box. How much dust could have accumulated in a matter of months?
None of the boxes were taped, only folded shut. Was it wrong of you to look through their stuff, especially since they were basically considered dead? To be fair, the house was yours now, and you needed to put some stuff up here. So you opened the box and looked inside.
This one was full of different colors of fabric. A red fabric crown of some sort, green tights, a blue headband, a can of silver spray paint for hair. Halloween costumes? All of superhero-esque kind?
Opening another box, this time you find some sort of fake lobster. A doorknocker? There’s some baby stuff in there too—a book about the psychological effects of pregnancy, a crib mobile made of butterflies. You go through all this stuff, the usual family keepsakes that the mother was too sentimental to throw away, until you suddenly come across something starkly different.
A book, but a different kind of book. It’s at the bottom of the box, and it’s heavy. The front is dark and somewhat torn with strange inscriptions on it. Heaving it out of the box, it falls into your lap with a cloud of black dust. What the hell did a family have to do with this? It looked more like a Halloween decoration than anything.
Mindlessly flipping it open, you saw that the pages were full of language you did not understand. Markings, almost, like hieroglyphics. Symbols. You come across a page that has the only recognizable thing you see—the figure of a woman, hair flowing, seeming to levitate on the page. This page is much darker than the rest, and the corners more torn. Like whoever read this book always seemed to seek out this specific page.
A sudden popping noise that sounded like weight on a floorboard startled you, made the book fall (it felt more like it leaped) out of your hands. You turned around to see nothing but the dark empty attic.
It was much too creepy up there.
Leaving your box of childhood memories up there and deciding to swap it out for this strange dark book, you carefully climbed back down the ladder and closed it.
The air felt thicker than ever now. Vibrating. Like it had just woken up.
࿏
You were mostly settled. Things still felt weird in the house, even after you put up every decoration you owned, but you figured it would go away with time. You’d been living off takeout the whole two weeks, hence the pile of Chinese takeout boxes in the corner of the kitchen. Deciding to go shopping to have some real food in the house, you pulled on your jacket and stepped out into the bitingly cold air. There was even a harsh wind, too, that made your nose hurt. Hugging yourself, you walked down your driveway and noticed a woman standing in the yard of the house next to yours. It was one of the few houses still lived in on the street, and you hadn’t even seen your new neighbor until now.
It was a middle-aged woman checking her mailbox. You struggled internally to decide if you should say hi or not, knowing that being all alone in a strange town was probably not the best idea, but something told you to just keep walking. You almost made it to your car until suddenly you could see her head snap towards you out of the corner of your eye. Instinctively, you froze, looking across the yard at her and seeing that she squinted her eyes suspiciously at you.
“H-hello,” you weakly greeted, shivering from the cold.
“Who are you?” the woman called out loudly, turning her body fully towards you now as if she was braced to defend herself. Great, a crazy neighbor.
“I’m y/n. I just moved in.” You tried to give a smile as you pointed to the house.
Looking between you and the house, the woman hesitated before walking towards you. Wishing you’d just ran to your car and left, you tried to be polite as she approached you.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said gruffly, sticking out her hand which shook yours rather aggressively. You noticed now something neon green on her hip—a watergun? “Detective Agnes. I work for the FBI. I’m working on a murder case here.” She pulled out a black wallet and flipped it open towards you. You knew that there was supposed to be a gold FBI badge there, but it was only a CostCo membership card for someone named Ralph.
“Oh,” you mumbled as she sighed officially and put her “badge” back in her pocket. She was also wearing a purple shirt with a picture of Dolly Parton and the word “Jolene” on it. Who the hell was this woman?
“Better be careful, newbie,” she said, pointing to your house. “The kids love to egg this house. Don’t worry though, I’ve got top of the line security system.” She nodded proudly and pointed to the roof of her house, which you noticed had one solitary print-only Polaroid camera haphazardly duct taped to it.
“Oh,” was all you could say again, feeling the intense urge to run away.
“Unfortunately the department frowns on tasering the little shits even though it’s what those punks need to set them straight,” she said, stretching and tapping on the other side of her hip, which had a toy car on it that she apparently thought was a taser.
Nodding slowly, you started backing away to your car. “Okay, well, it’s nice to meet you.”
“You, too, young lady. Be safe out here. It’s a crime-ridden place.” She dramatically looked around the nice, quiet neighborhood as if she was looking at Gotham City and went back to her mailbox. You got in your car and sped away.
Westview only had a tiny market in town. It was liminal with its old linoleum floors and flickering green LED lights that buzzed overhead. It smelled slightly of rotting meat. You wondered if you could steal Detective Agnes’ fake CostCo card.
It was deserted in there, too, besides the drunk clerk with a scruffy beard who stared blankly at you. This was the point where you started to realize the citizens here did not take well to new people.
In fact, you had noticed the only other shopper in there seemed to be following you around. You didn’t feel in danger, given that it was just an older lady in a sweater buying fig newtons, until suddenly she came out from the other aisle and slammed her cart into yours.
“Hey!” you yelled out, looking at the older lady with short blonde hair.
“Get out while you still can!” she whisper-yelled, her eyes pleading. “You’re going to die!”
“Excuse me?”
“Run! Get out of that house, get out of this town! Wanda! She’s going to kill you! She’s going to kill us all!”
She was screaming now, eyes tearing up, knuckles turning white as she gripped her cart. You stared at her, wondering if you should call the police, until suddenly her face changed into a pleasant one.
“Ope! Sorry, dear! These carts have a mind of their own!” She let out a cheery little cackle before wheeling her cart away, going down the aisle to look at the Pop Tarts.
You stood there dumbfounded for a moment before deciding to just leave and go to Eastview for your shopping needs.
࿏
Your ex thought you weren’t worth much, but you knew she had to miss your cooking. Cooking was an art to you, a hobby you enjoyed sharpening your skills in. Tonight, since you’d been living off of leftover orange chicken for days, you were making a nice ribeye with lemon green beans and garlic mashed potatoes. A comfort meal. Maybe it would cheer up the angst-imbued house.
The interaction with your neighbors, specifically with the lady at the market, was unsettling. Why was she telling you to get out of that house? Who the hell was Wanda and why was she going to kill everybody? Was everyone in that town cracked out or out of their mind?
It was a little cozier, admittedly, as you were cooking that night. The kitchen had plenty of space for all your cooking tools and equipment, which you had a lot of. They were precious to you, so you had spent almost an entire day arranging them in all the drawers and cabinets.
You limited the lighting in the kitchen to the oven range and the little lamp in the living room. Setting your phone up, you let classical music fill the air as you prepped your steak while your potatoes finished boiling.
You felt calm and at home for the first time in a long time.
Until you started hearing a strange clicking noise.
Your first instinct was to check the oven since this was your first time using it. The clicking was not coming from there. You listened all around in the kitchen until you realized it was coming from the living room. Looking through the partition, you saw that the floor lamp on the other side of the living room was flickering.
Your pot of potatoes steaming and boiling, your steak left on the counter, you emanated through the flip door into the living room. You had just put a bulb in that lamp—no way it was dying already.
The closer you got to the lamp, the more it flickered. Faster and faster, causing your stomach to fold into anxious knots, until finally you lunged and turned it off all together. The room dark now, you caught your breath that you didn’t even notice was quickened.
You reached and turned it back on to find that it was no longer flickering. It must have been a weird glitch with the bulb. You were about to turn away when it suddenly clicked off by itself.
“What the fuck?” you say, reaching to turn it back on when it clicked right back on by itself. Taking a step away as fear imbued you, your eyes widened when the bulb in the lamp started getting brighter.
“What the fuck?” you say again, reaching to turn it off only to find that the bulb was so hot it burned your fingers. “Ow!” Stepping away, you watched in horror as the bulb kept getting brighter and brighter, filling up the entire room with light so that every corner and shadow was lit. You could see everything. And then it got so bright that you couldn’t see well. Your eyes burned, your skin burned with the heat of the bulb. The lamp was shaking where it stood, the fabric of the lampshade starting to burn up to expose the hot bulb even more. Even the metal pole was starting to melt where the bulb sat on it. You could hear the classical music playing from your phone in the kitchen, except that it was frenzied, angered, violent now.
It got brighter and brighter until your face was red hot and your hair felt like it was about to catch fire and all you could see was bright hot white, and you screamed a silent scream “STOP!”
With a loud electrical popping noise, the bright white faded away. You were blinded now, everything pitch dark, the heat replaced with a sudden coolness as the bulb popped and sparked on the lamp where the shade had half melted off. When you could finally see again, you unplugged the lamp and stepped away from it.
“What the fuck?” you said for the third time this night, heart beating fast as you rubbed your hot, aching eyes as your vision came back to you.
Before you could even process what had happened with the lamp, you looked over at the partition window and froze. Your heart stopped in your chest. Every hair on your arm stood up. Your eyes instantly watered with fear.
As you stood across the living room, staring through the partition window into the kitchen, you saw that every single cabinet and drawer in the kitchen was fully opened. All of your cooking tools, all the utensils and knives and equipment, hung suspended in the air right above or in front of the drawer or cabinet you had them in. It was like they were all on strings. And where your dining table was, all 3 chairs were hung upside down in the air above the table.
The air felt alive now. So alive you could feel its heartbeat, feel its breath down your neck, feel it on your skin. It was watching you, taunting you, burning eyes into you. There was something else there with you as you stared at all your kitchen stuff hanging in the air by themselves like they were on pulleys. But they were all so still. Nothing swayed or trembled.
A sigh breezed against the back of your neck. And then everything fell.
All of it dropped, every tool and utensil, every chair. It dropped like dead weight from where it hung, like gravity had suddenly been turned back on. It was deafeningly loud, all the metal tools clanging against the hard tile floor and countertops. Even your boiling pot of potatoes went down with a loud splash of steaming water. It was a deafening clatter, pure chaos as all of your stuff went right down to the floor. Even the chairs cracked onto the ground as they dropped heavily.
Things rolled and trembled until finally it all came to a stop. The air no longer felt as thick, but it was still there. It was silent now except for the eerie classical music still playing from your phone, calmly now.
You didn’t know what to do, or think, or feel. You felt fear. You felt confusion. Fingers trembling, you took frightened steps forward towards the kitchen, unsure of what lied in wait for you in there. Flipping open the door, you expected something to get you. You could feel it, you swore. Watching you. You swore you saw something dark swoop down under the surface of the island counter, but nothing was there. It was just you and all your broken tools and chairs. You avoided stepping on the mushed potatoes that still steamed as you walked through the warzone.
On the counter, your steak laid where you left it. Except that it was bleeding now, covered in thick, black blood that oozed out of it. It dripped down the counter, covered your floor. The center of the steak seemed to throb. Too much blood for just a ribeye, and when you touched it, it was warm.
࿏
Not that you had anyone to tell, but you didn’t speak of what happened. Dumbfounded, you numbly cleaned the mess up and went to bed. After the steak, you couldn’t eat beef for a week.
The house felt different now. Still eerie and angsty, but not as devoid as it did at first. Whatever devoid feeling had been filled the day you went into the attic was angered since the day in the kitchen. It felt like the house was resentful, like it was going to snap at any moment and swallow you. Even the doors kept slamming on your fingers when you tried to close them.
You thought about the lady in the market. Couldn’t stop thinking about her. Something very bad had happened in that house.
“Wanda?” Detective Agnes repeated when you asked her about it. You saw her in her backyard, duct taping another Polaroid camera to her patio. You spoke to her over the fence. It was gnawing at you to know what had happened. “Where did you hear that name?” she asked gruffly, perking up and approaching you at the fence, causing you to take a few steps back.
“Some lady at the store,” you blurted. “She was saying something about a Wanda, like it had to do with my house.”
Agnes squinted her eyes at you, and then she suddenly perked up as if she was listening to something. She grabbed a nearly all-brown banana from her hip and put it up to her mouth like a walkie talkie, speaking in a deep voice. “312 on the move. Dealing with concerned civilian. Be there at 1600 hours.” She tucked the banana back into her belt. “You wanna know about Wanda?”
You nodded, wondering if you should even trust what she has to say.
Agnes sucked at her lip and then blurted, “She’s dead. But you didn’t get that from me.”
“I kind of figured… Did she live here?”
Agnes tilted her head. “And what do you plan on doing with that information, huh? You trying to blackmail a federal officer?”
You raised your hands and backed away. “Look lady, I just live here and want to know why everyone is being so weird about the house I just bought.”
“Look,” Agnes interrupted you, “Wanda Maximoff was found dead in the woods. She’s gone, deadso, totally corpsed out, alright? I’ve got her on an operating table over at the morgue if you don’t believe me.”
You shook your head. “But she lived in my house?”
Then Agnes did something weird. She spoke, “I don’t know.” But she nodded her head.
You looked at her in confusion. “What?”
“I said, I don’t know!” she yelled, but she nodded her head again. The expression on her face was angry, but there was something wrong with her eyes. They were almost… pleading. But like she didn’t realize it.
That conversation didn’t make you feel any better about the situation. And when you got home to find that the old book you’d brought down from the attic was sitting on the coffee table open like something had been reading it, you weren’t exactly comforted.
It was turned to that same page, the one with the figure of a woman wearing a crown. Feeling aggravated with the lack of knowledge you were getting from both the internet and your neighbor, you slammed it shut and threw it under the couch, out of sight. If there was something in this house fucking with you, you would not just lay down and take it.
Things continued to feel off in the house. Your TV kept going off and on at random times. Doors slamming, footsteps in the hall at night, knocking on the walls. None of it felt as aggressive as that night in the kitchen, though. You’d come to terms that you had picked a slightly haunted house, though you still didn’t truly believe in all that stuff. But as a logical, sensible person, you knew that there was something strange causing all these strange occurrences that couldn’t be overlooked.
But when all the little events were mostly docile and didn’t get in the way of your usual living, you just carried on. You wouldn’t forgive what happened that night in the kitchen, but you could live with it and try to forget it. Even though you had to buy so much new kitchen stuff.
That was until you were cleaning one day and picked up that old dark book from under the couch so that you could vacuum. You set it on the coffee table and kept on cleaning, forgetting to put it back in its place of hiding.
That night, with a clean house, you decided to take a nice relaxing bath. You lit candles all around the bathroom and turned off the light as the tub filled with hot water. There’d been more flickering lights and knocking on the walls that evening, but you were starting to get used to it. It was an old house, after all. Maybe it was all just your imagination, and it was all very explainable in a scientific way.
But this event marked a point where you could no longer believe that.
As you laid in the tub, muscles relaxing under the hot water, you opened your eyes momentarily and saw something strange. In the water where you lay, you saw foggy threads of red floating through the water.
Were you bleeding?
Sitting up sharply, you check yourself all over. No marks, no wounds or cuts, no time of the month, but there’s trails of blood floating in the water.
Your heart starts to quicken as the air grows thick around you again, that same feeling as the one that night with the lamp. It swarms you.
“Stop,” you whisper, watching more and more blood appear from nowhere in the water, making the water turn crimson red.
Glancing at the reflective metal surface of the bathtub faucet, your heart stops when you see, in the warped reflection, some shadow of black sitting right behind you in the tub.
That’s when you scream and leap out of the water, nearly slipping on the tile floor as you freak out. There obviously was no one or nothing sitting behind you in the tub, but you most certainly saw the dark reflection of one.
The lightbulb above you starts flickering, even though the light was not turned on.
The blood in the water had gone, but during your jump out of the water your foot had pulled the stopper up. The water was draining now, very loudly, making a deep guttural sound as the water drained quickly. When it was all gone, it was silent.
Something dark appeared at the wide-open hole of the drain. It looked liquid at first, like some black substance was oozing out of the drain onto the white porcelain of the tub, but when it started rising up out of the hole and moving in a very alive way, you realized it was fingers.
Blackened fingers rose out of the drain, wiggling, pulling up a hand along with it. The fingernails were sharpened, the slender hand feminine even with its charcoal fingers.
You screamed when a whole arm shot out of the drain and grabbed at the side of the tub.
All you could think to do was run out of the bathroom and slam the door shut, holding onto the knob and listening as you heard the sickly wet sounds of something being pulled out of the drain and slapping against the wet tub, and even the sound of it stepping over the tub onto the floor. Heavy breathing with effort. Distorted wet footsteps across tile floor.
You wanted to run and call the police, but then you felt the knob gently turn in your hand. This bathroom door did not have a lock.
With some sort of screech of breath, whatever thing that was behind the door pulled hard at the knob. Screaming, you pulled the door back shut before you could see whatever was on the other side, wanting to rather die than to actually see what it was. The thing wrestled with you over the door, pulling hard and fast. You held on with all your strength, hands still wet from the bath, putting your foot against the threshold for more leverage. The air was screaming now, loud in your ears, a heartbeat that was not your own beating from inside your own brain. The lights were all flickering, and the house felt like it was closing in on you.
The thing pulled and pulled, screaming and screaming until it got the best of you. The knob slipped out of your hands, and the door swung wide open.
Instinctively, you slapped your hands over your eyes. You didn’t want to see. You didn’t want to see. You didn’t want to see. You’d rather die than see.
Breathing heavily, you waited for something to get you, because you were certain that whatever was in your house was trying to do that all along.
But nothing came.
Inhaling oxygen and exhaling bravery, you tried to ignore all the visions your brain guessed that you would see, and parted your fingers. Through the slit in your fingers you saw… nothing. The bathroom was empty. The tub was drained but clean. The flame of the candles all around were perfectly still.
But then you heard a creaking noise from behind you. Slowly, breath held, trembling, you turned around and raised your eyes.
A black figure clung to the ceiling. It was the shape of a person with soft edges. It was a shadow, in human form.
It jumped down at you.
With a scream, you buckled to the floor and covered your head, trying to shield yourself. Nothing touched you. You bravely opened your eyes again and looked all around only to not see the black figure anywhere. There was nothing but you, naked and wet on the floor.
The air felt empty again. The thing had come and gone. You were safe.
For now.
࿏
It was hard to feel settled after that. Things got more aggressive. It was like whatever demon was with you had finally laid eyes on you and was set to get you now. You couldn’t find that book anywhere. It wasn’t on the coffee table nor under the couch. You looked everywhere to no avail.
Detective Agnes knocked on your door one night to tell you that someone had been lurking at a window at the side of your house. She was holding a full-size Nerf Super Soaker and said that she had tried to snipe the suspect wearing all-black but they had somehow jumped into your closed window (hence the sound of spraying water you had heard on your window). She demanded to look through the house, which she did and found nothing. You’re pretty sure she swiped a pair of your underwear, though. She taped a Polaroid camera to your roof for good measure and said she took photos of “damning” evidence which included unconcerning pictures of your flowerbed. You knew it wasn’t a person, but rather a thing lurking from within the window.
Nights were the worst. You had never been someone to be so scared, but you could barely sleep from how hard your heart thumped with fear as you lay in bed at night.
A few nights after the bathroom event, you managed to halfway fall asleep somewhere around 3 AM when you suddenly heard loud banging coming from within the walls. Waking up with a shot of anxiety in your chest, you heard the banging again, loud and clear, like someone trying to break down a wall from the inside.
Feeling frozen, you forced yourself to sit up when you fully froze at the sight of something horrific. In the corner of your bedroom, right beside the window, was that dark figure hiding in the shadows. It seemed more formed this time. You could see the outline of hips, hands, legs. The worst part was that you could see two red eyes gleaming at you in the dark.
“Go away!” you instinctively yelled, but it came out barely audible due to the lump in your throat.
The figure slowly came forward, and the moonlight from the window casted over it.
It was some creature of a woman. She was decrepid, slightly hunched over. Her eyes were red and glowing, her mouth set wide open as if her jaw has been broken off. But where her face would have been… Where her face would have been, her skin had been stretched upward into two points, like her skin had been stretched over horns, or over a crown. She was unnaturally tall and skinny, her skin pale and yellowed.
Dark red hair laid at her shoulders, and she was wearing some torn and ratted red suit. Her hands were deformed, long and sharp and bony, blackened at the ends. The horrible smell of death and blood suddenly filled your nostrils, making you gag and cover your nose. The creature smelled of death and appeared deformed, demonic, monstrous, evil.
“Who are you?” you questioned, trying to think of what to say or do. This thing must have been some sort of manifestation of the thing that had been torturing you, and so you say the only name you know. “Wanda?”
The creature erupted into a monstrous screech so loud you nearly went deaf, and in a flash, she lunged fast at you. You swore you could feel her push you down onto the bed when you suddenly sit back up, coming out of a horrible nightmare.
You were sweating through the sheets, panting, looking all around your empty bedroom. Had it been just a dream?
Feeling a sting at your shoulder, you look at it to see a bloody claw mark there, so deep it was already dripping blood.
Once the demon had first seen you in the bathroom, she got more aggressive. Now she had tasted your blood… What was going to happen now?
As you expected, everything got worse. The knocking and footsteps got more violent than ever, doors slamming on you, knives throwing themselves across the kitchen towards you. This thing was trying to get you.
You leased an apartment in Eastview as quickly as you could.
You couldn’t move in for a week, so you were stuck there with that thing trying to murder you. Your friend you had been crashing with was on holiday, but you could not stand to sleep alone in that house. So you asked the only person you could think of…
“No worries, tuts,” Agnes said as she strode into your bedroom with an armful of blankets and pillows. “It’s my job to keep my fellow citizens safe.” She threw her blankets and pillows down on the ground right at the foot of your bed.
Awkwardly, you watched her make a pallet. “You know, I have a couch downstairs… That might be best so you can, you know, watch the front door.” You had told her you were having fears of break-ins and just needed someone to stay with you for a night or two.
“No, no, I can do my job best from right here,” she said as she plopped down onto the pallet. “Besides, these nights can get a little…” She undid her police jacket, which was actually just a varsity jersey jacket with the name Bohner on the back, as she looked up at you with a smirk. “Lonely…”
You just stared down at her, with her banana and water gun. “Okay, Agnes.”
Honestly, the night went better with Agnes there. There wasn’t any knocking or footsteps, no creatures in your corner. It was just Agnes’ obnoxiously loud snoring like a lawnmower right in your bedroom that kept you awake, but eventually you drifted off.
You had dreams of red. Of red and blood behind your eyes. Voices, names, memories, all in red. You don’t know what it was that jolted you awake, but something did, and when you flapped open your eyes, you saw her.
She was on your ceiling.
Red scarlet hair hanging down. Her face was not malformed this time, but rather, it was somewhat beautiful. Even with the glowing red eyes and darkness.
“Wanda,” you whispered, somehow knowing for sure that this was her. Wanda, the woman who had died, who had a family in the house you bought, who had been torturing you for weeks. Her fingers, black, clung to the ceiling as if that’s what kept her there, but you could tell it was magic. It was the same magic that froze your body and made you unable to move as she slowly drifted down the ceiling, closer to you, until she hovered right above you.
She didn’t seem real. This beautiful ghost, demon, whatever she was, her nose so close to yours, breathing over you with red eyes full of desire.
“You opened the Darkhold,” she spoke in deep unnatural voice without moving her lips. “You beckoned me.”
You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t move a muscle in your body except your mouth. “No, I didn’t…” You thought of the old dark book. You had opened it.
“I can live on…” she spoke, reaching out her hand to touch you. It landed on your stomach, causing you to jump. You could feel her hand. You felt silly for expecting it to just go right through you. Her skin was touching your stomach over your shirt. It made you feel fear and excitement at the same time. “I have a womb now.”
Your eyebrows sewed together. “A womb?”
Chills filled you as Wanda’s lips stretched open in a wide grin that was too perfect to be real. Her face looked fake suddenly, like it was just a pretty human mask put over the real face of something horrible. “A womb for my children,” she said without moving her lips.
Suddenly, your legs were spread wide open in the air. You let out a scream of shock and fear, which made Agnes’ snoring finally stop. Agnes jumped up, stumbling, holding her Super Soaker. Her eyes widened when she saw the demon hovering over you.
“Get down!” Agnes yelled to you as she held up the Nerf gun and sprayed a sharp stream of water at Wanda. To your surprise, once the water hit the demon, it steamed and burned. Wanda hissed and turned to Agnes, levitating upright in the air as Agnes continued to spraying her.
Getting out her banana, Agnes yelled, “664 we need backup over here! I repeat! 664 we’ve got a code red!”
Wanda lifted her hand. Agnes rose up into the air, and with a flick of Wanda’s wrist, she was flung right out of the second-floor window.
Wanda turned back to you, and fear jumped at your spine again. Now it was just you and her.
Flying back towards you, she used her magic to peel the sheets off of you, settling herself down on the bed over you.
“What are you doing?!” you cried out as she somehow tore your clothes off your body, exposing your skin to her.
Her hand immediately went between your legs, groping at your core. “I have been waiting so long for you, detka,” she spoke, her voice sounding a little more natural. Her eyes, once robotic and blank, looked softer now. You couldn’t tell if it was real or not.
You tried to squirm but her magic kept you still. Her hand was expert—she rubbed circles at your clit as her other hand snaked up over your stomach, up to your breast which she groped. “The perfect vessel,” she whispered. “I can live on. I can have my children again,” she repeated as she slid her hand down to your tummy again, her hand glowing red. “Your womb is so fertile. I could feel it when you first arrived.”
Your head was spinning as this demon woman worked at your pussy, pinching your clit and slipping two fingers inside which made you yelp. She was gentle yet firm at the same time, somehow knowing exactly what would make you feel good. You were getting wet for her—you could hear it in the wet sloshing sound that your pussy made as she pumped her fingers in and out of you, curling them at their deepest length.
“Fuck,” you breathed, your head feeling suddenly very hot, as if a fever suddenly set upon you.
“You are so good,” she breathed, voice deeper this time as she adjusted where she sat between your legs, now kneeling over you. Suddenly, something large formed at her crotch. It was a strap—long and maroonish red with charcoal darkness at the tip.
“What are you—”
Wanda grinned and shushed you as she stroked her length, red magic glowing from within her strap. “Be a good, quiet vessel, detka.”
Something evil was showing through in her eyes.
“Wanda—”
She used her magic to shut your mouth so that you could only make muffled noises as the demon nestled between your hips, using her hands to spread your thighs further open. She wanted you as open for her as you could be.
Frightened but also some sickly form of turned on, you watched as the demon stroked her cock and brought it to your entrance which she had prepped and made soaking wet for herself. Her cock was larger than anything you’d ever taken. It was throbbing with magic.
The tip pushed through your entrance painfully, and you cried out through the magic covering your mouth as the demon suddenly pushed her entire cock inside you, ripping open your walls. Pain seared through your human body as the demon forced her way inside you, but when she passed a hand over your head, the pain suddenly went away. It turned more into a feeling of butterflies, of throbbing, of pleasure. You could feel blood leaking down your thighs, but she had taken away your pain.
“You are going to give me such beautiful children,” Wanda murmured, cupping your chin with her dark hand as she started to thrust her hips, pumping herself inside you. The pressure came against your cervix in a hot flash of pleasure each time. She was so long and so large, fucking herself so deep inside you that your stomach bulged. The demon pressed her hand on the bulge and cackled, feeling herself fuck you from inside.
You could feel everything, how deep she was, how the ridges of her strap glided against your walls, the way your stomach bulged with each thrust. Your pussy was being stretched open around her demon cock, taking every single inch no matter how girthy.
“The perfect bride,” Wanda said, her demon voice showing through as she started to fuck you harder. Her hand slapped around your throat, holding you down and halfway choking you as her thrusts became quicker and quicker, demonic grunts coming from her. You could feel yourself tightening inside, preparing for what was about to come.
The demon’s cock seemed to swell inside you, forcing you to stretch even more. Sickly squelching noises filled the air. Blood was all over the bed now. You felt nothing but electric, all-consuming pleasure.
“Stay still,” Wanda said as she choked you harder. “You’re going to take all of my seed. You’re going to give me such beautiful children, my beautiful bride.”
She went harder and harder, fucking deep into your womb until finally, the energy broke. She let out a guttural noise, and you could feel her cock go rigid inside you before a load of warmth filled you deep inside. As you shook from your own blinding orgasm, you couldn’t even see the fact that your tummy bulged as the demon kept filling you with her seed which glowed red from inside you.
Sighing, Wanda relaxed against you, keeping her cock inside you. It was still swollen, stuck inside your cunt. “I’m going to keep myself here until I know it takes.” She smiled for real this time as she stroked your glowing, swollen tummy. You were more than feverish now as you felt things start to change inside you at an inhuman speed. You could feel it taking, feel your tummy swelling more and more.
You didn’t know that once you birthed, she would slaughter you like breeding cattle.
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unendingexhaustion ¡ 1 year ago
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i have contracted. the plague. 
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impossible-rat-babies ¡ 1 year ago
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uhhhh weird eyrie lore today is: death and eyrie are haunting each other
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asumi2020202 ¡ 5 months ago
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Blessing disguised as a Curse
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!reader.
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A/N: After the 1st episode of season two I'm currently obsessing over Jacaerys. So, many Jacaerys stories will be uploaded as well as Aemond cuz I Love him too. Thank you for reading this fiction.
Summary: You were Alicent's daughter. Younger than the three, Aegon, Aemond and Helaena but older than Daeron. After returning from Dragonstone, Rhaenyra proposes a marriage pact between her eldest and you. A man your mother had warned you about.
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People and gatherings made you nervous. Anxiety coursed through your veins everytime someone started a conversation with you. Solitude was what you preferred. Your comfort was your sister and by some means her bugs as well.
Your mother warned you of the people that were coming back to Kings Landing. She told you to keep distance from them. Though you paid almost no mind to her words which were half controlled by your grandsire, you couldn't help but ponder about those people she talked about.
You knew them from the start before they fled to Dragonstone after taking your precious brother's eye. You had felt hatred towards them but 'what if they change?' You had thought countless of times.
You loved your siblings more than anything. Having a father only by name in the court and a stranger in the halls as he supported your half-sister with everything she had done even if it was killing someone.
You love them. You tried to be there for them through everything. You love Aegon even if was arrogant and misbehaving. You love Aemond even if he wanted revenge. You love Helaena even if she is called weird by others and is obsessed with bugs. You love Daeron even if you have almost no memory of him left.
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You were playing with little Jaehaerys and Jaehaera while Helaena was telling you more facts about bugs. She loved that her baby sister also had interest in her bugs and helps her catch them.
"Did you know that butterflies join their bodies together to reproduce?" Helaena asks you meeting your gaze.
"Really? I used to think they flap their wings together." You reply as you played with Jaehaerys while little Jaehaera sat on your lap.
"Hmm. The male butterfly often dies soon after they mate." Helaena spoke as her gaze shifted back on her embroidery.
"So then the female butterfl-" you were going to reply when the doors opened to reveal your mother.
Both you and Helaena looked up at her while the children were escorted away by the maids. " They have landed. Remember what I have told you my sweelings. Be on your best behaviours." Alicent spoke.
"Yes mother we understand " you replied speaking for both you and your sister. Alicent left the room after nodding at you.
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After meeting with her daughters, Alicent left their room. A maid informed her that Princess Rhaenyra had wanted to meet with her.
Alicent let the maid guide her to the room where Rhaenyra was present. When they reached the place, the maid opened the door to let the Queen inside.
Alicent was met with Rhaenyra. She could tell just by the looks that Rhaenyra was pregnant.
"It has been too long since we were granted the chance to converse" Alicent spoke, breaking the silence.
"Indeed it has been. I know you were busy with the royal matters at hand, so I asked for you at a time when you would be free." Rhaenyra replied looking into Alicent's eyes.
"Is there any important matter that you wish to discuss with me?" Alicent asked.
"Yes, there is one actually. The rift between us has lived far too long. I propose a marriage pact. My son Jacaerys will inherit the Iron Throne after me. Let my son and your youngest daughter be betrothed together so they shall rule together.
We are one family. And long before that we were close friends." Rhaenyra said and looked at Alicent for an answer.
"I sh-" Alicent was going to speak but Rhaenyra interjected.
"This marriage will help us reconcile with each other." She said.
"I shall think of it and give you your answer after the feast tonight." Alicent replied. "Thank you your grace." Rhaenyra smiled at her.
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Alicent had requested an audience with her father after meeting Rhaenyra to discuss about the marriage.
"Father I can't just sacrifice my child." Alicent pleaded. "I know Alicent but this marriage can help us take the throne and make Aegon the king." Otto reasoned.
"Tell Rhaenyra that you agree to this proposal. If y/n is married to her son then it will be easier to control them. When the throne is returned to the rightful heir, it will be easier to prevent war." Otto continued.
Alicent feeling defeated, agreed to her father's request.
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You were in your sister's chambers, waiting for her to get finished dressing up so you both could attend the feast together.
Your dress was simple yet the details on it were impressive. It was was a navy blue dress with golden details. It made you look ethereal.
When Helaena was done, the both of you left the chambers together. Holding tightly onto the hands of your sister as the maids escorted you to the feast hall.
All were seated at the table only getting up when Viserys arrived before sitting down again.
You were seated on the right side of Helaena as Aegon sat on her left. Aemond sat at the end of the table. Rhaena and Baela sat on your right. Starting small conversations which you could connect to and laugh with them.
You were trying hard to not feel nervous. You couldn't really face upfront only talking to Rhaena, Baela and Helaena.
Jacaerys had never thought you to be so beautiful over the years. When he first saw you after the years, he hadn't believed it was you. Only five and ten yet you were the most beautiful lady in his eyes. He had seen you accidentally when he was watching Aemond train, you stood in your balcony gazing at the sky. It was he who actually reasoned with his mother to marry you to him.
He couldn't take his eyes off of you during the feast. The way the dress showed your curves. The way you white hair was style. The necklace on your neck. He was in love.
You on the other hand couldn't even meet his gaze after what your mother told you.
'His brother took your brother's eye, who knows if one day he comes and decides to bring harm to us as well.' she had said.
Jace got up, walking upto you. Lending his hand forward, asking for a dance. You looked at your mother who just nodded. After which you had accepted his hand.
He led you to the side. The music had started. As you both started to dance. He didn't seem so bad. He seemed gentle, offering you bright smiles to which you just gave some small ones.
He looked different. Different than how your mother described him. Ruthless, arrogant, selfish and such.
After the feast, when the children went to their designated chambers, Alicent told Rhaenyra that she had accepted the marriage proposal. That she would try to forget the past and reconcile with her.
The two women decided that they shall break the news to the children and the king next morning, bidding each other a good night.
_________________________________________
You woke early as usual. Your maids had prepared you for the day. A knock on the door took your attention.
It was Jace.
The one who you felt some type of attachment to after the previous feast. He stood infront of your door as he said "Our mothers have requested an audience with us at the King's chambers. I was asked to inform you and take you to them."
"Very well then my prince, let us leave at once." You replied, getting up from your seat and walking down the corridor with him.
'My prince?' oh how sweet it sounded coming from your mouth. But he didn't want 'my prince', he wanted 'husband'.
He knew why they both were called, his mother told him yesterday night before he fell asleep. That the two would be married soon.
Upon arrival at the King's chambers, you greeted your mother, Rhaenyra and the king.
"Ah you've arrived. Do sit. Your mother and I have agreed on something and we wish for your answer as well." Rhaenyra said giving a smile while holding hands with Alicent like she used to when they were children.
You nodded your head as a sign for her to continue speaking.
"We have decided that you and my son Jace shall be betrothed together for the harmony of our family. Your mother has agreed and so has Jace but I wish for your answer." Rhaenyra finished her saying.
"It is a most judicious proposition. Wouldn't you agree daughter?" King Viserys who was resting in his armchair spoke up.
You looked at your mother, who stared at you and offered a smile and then to Jacaerys who looked around your face to find any kind of rejection.
You looked up at Rhaenyra, anxiety flaring through and spoke "if it can help the family be whole again and please my mother then I shall agree."
Rhaenyra's face brightened as did Jace's. Alicent only nodded.
"Well then. I believe we can start with the preparations right away." Rhaenyra said getting up to hold your hands as you looked up to her.
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"You've warned me my entire life about them mother, and now you simply marry me off to him. I don't get you." You spoke to your mother calmly.
"Sweetling, I know it is difficult for you but it is for the greater good. It is to uphold the realm and make peace." Alicent reasoned while placing her hand on your face.
No other word was spoken as you went back to your chambers.
You liked Jacaerys after the events of last night but you couldn't help but worry about what your mother told you. You couldn't help but worry about your siblings, you would have to leave your home and go to Dragonstone with them.
_________________________________________
Three days since that day, your wedding was held. You and Jace cut your lips and the your palms. Holding your hands together, you both drank from the same cup with your other hands. The septa reciting the vows the both of you had to take.
Your families bear witness of the event. Of the love that was to blossom.
After the feast that was held, you left for your now shared chambers in the red keep.
Jacaerys came in a moment after you. You felt nervous. It was your first night together. As if a miracle, he sense your nervousness.
"Is something bothering you dear wife? You even left the feast early." He asked softly not to startle you.
Wife. Oh how you knew you will love him just from how that word slipped from his mouth.
"It is nothing lord husband. It's just that I don't fare well in gatherings. I find solace in solitude." You reply back.
"Well I hope that from now on I can be your solace." Jacaerys replied with his bright smile as he came closer to you. Your chest almost touching his lower chest.
He was tall. You had tilt your head up to meet him. You didn't move aside as he cupped your cheeks and looked at your for permission.
As you nodded, he took the sign and kissed you. You both had consummated that night for the first time.
________________________________________
The day came when you had to leave with them to Dragonstone. You would eventually come back when Rhaenyra would be crowned.
You stood before your siblings and parents, kissing the cheeks of your siblings. "Will you come back soon?"
"Of course my little cuddle bears." You said as you crouched down to meet the level of your nephew and niece.
You climbed on top of your dragon, Moonfyre as they all bid you farewell. You heart saddened as you thought that Helaena would be alone now with Aegon ignoring her. Aemond might not even apply his ointments properly. And your mother.. would be lonely.
Moonfyre sensed your worry and sadness, letting out a low groan. She was as beautiful as the night. A white dragon whose color slowly went from white to grey. Eyes as bright as the moon, earning her name when she hatched.
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Viserys was dead. It had been moons since you left. A raven had informed Rhaenyra that her half brother Aegon had usurped the throne.
The weight of the matter forced her to go in labor. Her child was a stillborn. It pained her. You knew it tore her from the inside but she had to focus one the matters at hand.
Ser Eryyk had came with the crown of King Jaehaerys I. Daemon crowned her as the queen as all bowed. Otto came to make peace with them which resulted in rejection straight up in his face.
She sent her sons to earn the favor of other houses.
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"Y/n" you heard her call you from the back as stood near the stairs of Dragonstone, gazing at the sea.
"Come walk with me" she told you. As you both went down the stairs to the beach, you both had a gentle conversation.
"Do you wish to switch sides? I would not blame you if you do for they are your family." Rhaenyra spoke.
"All my life, I've seen them being neglected. By both father and mother. I was their and still am their comfort source.
Aegon always told me that he will not sit the iron throne. He told me that being a king will only hold him down in one place, and that he wishes to fly free like a dragon." You pause, looking at her eyes while gently holding her hand before continuing.
"And now they tell me that he has Usurped the throne. That he is now the king and that he now rules. That doesn't seem like the Aegon i know." You told her as she looked at you and nodded her head.
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You stood in the middle of Rhaena and Baela as see someone tell Rhaenyra a few words as she broke down.
She turned around, her eyes filled with rage and sorrow.
Lucerys was dead. Vhagar attacked him.
You felt helpless. Did your brother intentionally kill the Heir to Driftmark? You knew he had a deep hatred for Lucerys for taking his eye. But he wouldn't go as far as to kill him.
A raven had been sent to Jacaerys, informing him of the news. You couldn't face the queen. She knew you were innocent but that cannot pardon the sin of your brother.
You had began to open up but now your alone again. The little child seeking solitude. Hiding from people.
_________________________________________
A raven had arrived, delivering a letter to you. It was from the Red Keep. It was Aegon.
Dear Sister,
I know what has been done cannot be changed, but Aemond didn't actually wanted to kill Luke. It was grandsire. He got in his head like mother. He lost control over Vhagar.
I don't wish to rule. They told me that inorder for Rhaenyra to rule, she would have to kill us. That she would kill us all to secure the throne for her and her son. Grandsire said the same thing to Mother the other day, I had overheard it.
This war shouldn't happen. It will tear all of us apart. We are not the enemy of the blacks nor are they ours. Our enemy is Otto Hightower. He wants to rule the kingdom indirectly by being the hand.
Tell our half sister that we must work together. That I am willing to lay down my throne. She will be the Protector of the Realm. I know this is a crucial time for you but stay safe.
-Yours truly
Aegon.
You didn't know what to say. You were Alicent's daughter, who would believe you. They might consider you a traitor as well. You clutched the letter to your chest.
You walls finally broke. You broke down on the bed. It was him from the beginning. Otto Hightower. Anger and pain surrounded you. You cried as you brought your knees to your chest and hid your face there.
The door slowly opened which you hadn't noticed. It was Jacaerys. He had a melancholy look in his eyes as well as of guilt and hatred.
He hated seeing you cry. His Lady Wife. He gently put his head on your back. You looked up to meet his gaze with a tearful look.
The way he looked broke your heart. He looked used and betrayed. You got up and met his gaze again never letting go of the letter.
"Lord husband-" you started but he shakes his head as a no.
"Don't. Don't speak." He tried to say it normally but it came out cold as he walked towards the desk in your room to perhaps look for something.
"Please listen to me. He is innocent. I got a ra-" You started again but got cut off.
""Innocent?! He killed my brother! How can you possibly call him innocent?! My brother went as a messager. He vowed not to fight and Your Brother!..... Took advantage of that!" He screamed at you. For the first time. You had never seen him so angry even when your brothers teased him. He looked at you with hatred.
Tears flooded your vision again. He had never raised his voice at you. You knew it was due to the loss of his brother but that didn't hurt any less.
"I understand your pain. But you must listen to me! At least once hus-" you reasoned which angered him further.
"How can you understand My pain?! T'is I who lost my brother not you. And whats there to listen to? That your brother killed him accidentally?!
Tell me. Were you also a part of this? I truly thought you had loved me. But it seems you're the same as well!" He shouted again coming closer to you.
"I truly do love you. Please believe me!" Your tears flowed freely.
"No you don't. Tell me... Was this marriage also a scheme of you and your family?! Shut up, just shut up for once!"
Your eyes went wide. He wanted you to shut up. You were bothering him. He doubted your love for him. His own eyes widened a bit when he realised what he said. He left the chambers in a hurry not wanting to discuss about this further.
Your chest felt tight. You couldn't breathe properly. You had trouble while trying to inhale the air.
_________________________________________
As Jacaerys left the chambers, he felt as if his clothes were too tight for his body. He saw Baela and Rhaena bringing your food to your chambers like they have been since the day they received the news of Luke.
They nodded at him as he reciprocated.
As they went inside the chambers, a scream could be heard. Possibly from Baela. It could be heard from all the corners of the castle.
Jace heard it before anyone else as his heart stopped. He rushed straight back to the shared room as he saw Baela cradling your unconscious, small form to her chest while Rhaena panicked and told the maids to call for the maesters.
His breathing stopped as he saw his mother and Princess Rhaenys enter the room along with the maester and maids. His mother looked at him as his eyes filled with tears.
First he lost Lucerys he can't lose you too. He didn't mean anything he said.
_________________________________________
Jacaerys paced around the hall infront of your room. He watched as Rhaena guided his little brother Joffery to his room. Joffery was fond of you which warmed Jace's heart.
As the maesters came out both he and Rhaenyra stood up.
"How is she?" He asked them.
"She has a heavy fever. It possibly happened due to excessive stress. She must have bed rest. " The maesters spoke before leaving.
_________________________________________
It had been 2 days. You were yet to wake up. Moonfyre's cries and wails could be heard from everywhere. She was uncomfortable. Her bonded sister was not well and she could sense it.
Jace held your hand as he apologized over and over again. His tears wetting the sheets.
Your eyes slowly opened. Adjusting to the bright light. Jace looked up to see you now wide awake, trying to sit up.
"No no lay down. You need rest. The maester said you were stressed." He said. His voice quivering.
"Don't cry. I understand your part. I'm sorry I am not what you wish for. I know you wouldn't want to be with a murderer's sister. Hence I give you full permission to take a second wife." You gently said while looking at him.
"No shut up." He said lowly not believing what you said. "I didn't mean anything I said that day. I am sorry." He spoke.
You looked out the window remembering the last time he had asked you to shut up. Tears again filled your eyes which you blinked away but Jace noticed.
"My love i didn't mean it that way. Please believe me." He pleaded shaking his head as held your hand tight.
News spreads fast in the castle. A maid had informed the rest that you were awake. Daemon was with Caraxes and lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys were somewhere on the beach.
Rhaenyra, Rhaena and Baela came to the your chambers. The sisters came beside you as they held onto your hand.
Even though you were the daughter of their enemy, they loved you. You were different.
Rhaenyra looked at her son before turning her gaze to you. She felt disappointed in her son after she learned about the argument.
You asked Rhaena for the letter kept on your bedside table as your body was too weak to move. You probably need a few more weeks to be healthy again.
You asked her to give it Rhaenyra.
As Rhaenyra opened the letter and read it's contents, she felt clueless. She didn't realise the state of the other side. Her companion was manipulated from the start.
She held your hand and gave you a sad look. She handed the letter to Jace as she thought that he should read it as well.
His heart broke. You tried to tell him everything but he refused to listen. You tried to explain everything but he only badmouthed you.
Rhaenyra promised you that Otto Hightower will be punished and that none of your siblings would be harmed.
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Calling of your name came from two bubbly voice as they ran to you. You crouched down and opened your arms. The force of your nephew and niece's weight made you fall flat on your butt.
Jacaerys smiled as he saw the reunion. Infront of him stood your four siblings whom you kissed on the cheeks and hugged after getting up.
It was Rhaenyra's official coronation day. Otto Hightower was beheaded for his schemes against the crown.
Rhaenyra and Alicent were finally together again after Rhaenyra found Daemon with Nettles.
All of the royal family stood as King Jaehaerys' crown was placed upon her head. All gave their respects to their first queen.
Jacaerys held your hand tight as he smiled at you which you reciprocated.
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As night fell over kings landing, you and Jace retired to your new shared chambers.
"Husband. Join me in bed." You requested. Your body glowing in your night gown because of the moonlight.
"Of course avy jorrāelan." Jace replied as he climbed on top of the bed and over your body, pinning you down.
He kissed you passionately as one of your hand cupped his face while the other held onto his neck for support.
His naked chest glowed like yours in the moonlight.
"You are most precious thing I have my love." He said as pulled away from your lips.
"And you, my lord husband, came in my life like a blessing disguised as a curse." You said as you both looked at each other and hungrily kissed each other.
The two of slept a long time after consummating the entire night.
He truly did came in your life like a Blessing disguised as a Curse.....
-Lillian
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