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yanderenightmare · 3 months ago

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Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: omegaverse, size difference, reader's second gender is omega, so there are mentions of pregnancy, somewhat subjugating omega politics, old-fashioned high-class politics of sorts

♡ prequel to this

♡ GN reader

His eyes are garnet and slim—you can’t make up your mind if they’re judgemental or just assessing. Either would be allowed, of course. The point of the date is for him to decide if you’re sufficient or not.

And yet, you’re the one taking him in. His main is ashen blonde, boyishly spikey and wild—not fine-kempt and slick like you’d pictured. He didn’t have any grey hair either, or stubble, or wrinkles. Though he’s still much bigger and burlier than they are, he can’t be any older than the eldest males back at the institution.

He’s obviously an Alpha, and still, it’s so odd.

“You’re young,” you end up saying.

His nose scrunches. “No younger than you.”

It must have sounded accusatory, even when you only meant to point it out for yourself. You probably ought to have said it silently, inside yourself, and not out loud like you did.

And so you apologize, “I’m sorry, I was—I was just expecting someone older…” You try smiling, but the thought of him actually having been older makes your throat tight, and you swallow thickly instead. “Much older.”

He sighs, looks off to the side instead of at you. His brows tighten—you probably want someone who’s already got a house and a car and a boat on a lake, not to mention a good salary and not the intern pay he’ll be living off of for at least the next year or so. His foot taps beneath the table. You feel it in the floorboards. “You disappointed or somethin’?” he grumbles through grit teeth and a slim frown.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head, blruting, “No!” You even jump out of your chair, both hands slamming flat on the table, making the napkin-wrapped cutlery clatter within their confines.

Quickly, but too late, you realize you’re causing a scene. Cheeks burning, you look around before settling down again—you’re not making a very good first impression so far.

You take a breath, confessing, “I mean, I’m happy,” You place your hands in your lap and then start fiddling with them. “This way, we can be together for a long time…” Your voice is breathy as you let out a somewhat apologetic sigh, smiling some. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t dare look up to gauge his expression.

You end up laughing nervously in the silence, feeling the joke arise before you're able to dispel it. “I was afraid I was gonna have to be your nurse soon.”

His foot stops tapping. Then he scoffs.

You perk up again, fumbling over your newest mistake, already apologizing a second time so far, “I’m sorry, that was rude. You’re just not what I was expecting—I’m a little caught off guard, is all.”

He huffs, then grins. “That’s okay. You don’t gotta apologize.”

You both sit in silence after that. You pick your nails more. All the questions you’ve prepared are useless given his age—he doesn’t have an answer to how many kids he wants from you. Probably. It somehow feels strange asking him when he isn’t in his thirties or forties or early fifties.

You look at him in askance. It really is odd.

“You can ask—if you’re curious,” he sanctions.

You really want to, but you’ve made enough mistakes already. Your teachers wouldn’t be proud if they witnessed you acting so childish and not as the proper little lady they’ve trained you to be.

“No, I shouldn’t.” You shake your head and look down at your lap.

“Come on, you don’t gotta worry about being rude with me,” he insists.

You bite your lip, feeling fidgety in your chair, peering up at him. “You sure?”

“Hit me.”

The question leaps from your tongue before you have the mind to regret it. “How can you afford this?”

He leans back in his chair. “I can’t—not yet. My folks are paying.”

You hum—that makes more sense. “They must be nice,” you say.

“They try,” he agrees.

There’s a silence again. You don’t have anything appropriate to ask. You were more prepared to talk when spoken to, to answer his questions about your health and hobbies, all silly things that make you cute and likable, but given he’s your age, none of it seems any interesting. It seems he doesn’t have much to ask, either.

“I was unsure about this,” he declares after a while. “To be honest with you, it was all my mom’s idea. I didn’t ask for it…” With a pause, he picks up the menu that had been lying undisturbed in wait for his decision. “But, she tends to be right about most things. So, I think I’ll take the offer this once.”

He lets you decide without ordering for you. Neither of you decide to drink, even though you’re both old enough. The conversation is awkward, but you giggle a couple of times and he smirks in turn. You hadn’t anticipated it—this feeling. You’d anticipated the nerves and the tension—but not this other thing, this sweet fluttering feeling blossoming in your belly, flirty and fizzy. Is this what they call butterflies?

He’s left asking himself the same question.

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

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lalunanymph · 6 months ago

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𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 — toji fushiguro

you love spoiling your husband rotten

The sun creeps across his scarred, tan skin, and it’s not long before he feels your fingers doing the same.

Down his abs, over his pecs; slowly etching the tattoos curling around his biceps and arms with a soft touch he knows all too well.

He resists the urge to grin, pretending to be asleep so you could continue with your naughty exploration. You sigh, and the sound tugs on his heartstrings. Toji thinks it's time to end this little game of yours before he does something you’ll regret starting.

“A bit early to be a tease, don’t you think?”

His sleep-roughened voice stops you short. Your fingers freeze in their unhurried path up his pecs, your breath faltering out in a whoosh.

“T-Toji,” you stammer, and this time, he cracks his eyes open, a lazy smile lifting the corners of his lips.

“Mornin’, dollface.” Huffing, he pulls you on top of him, your naked skin intimately flushed against his. Late night scenes from last night play in his mind, a dirty reel on loop as he repays the favor, stroking your hips and thighs; running those calloused fingertips all over the marks stretching across your belly.

“Those monsters still asleep?”

You nod. “Haven’t heard a peep from them.”

The golden band around his ring finger is cool when it touches your neck. Fighting back a shiver, you crane into his caress, almost purring with how delicately he’s touching you.

“Megs will be awake soon,” he murmurs, but it doesn’t stop him from grinding his stiffening hardness into your thigh.

You bite down on your lower lip, and Toji groans.

Your husband, still fit and handsome, dazzles you with a smirk, untucking your lip from the confines of your teeth.

“Oh, darlin’,” he mumbles. “You’re not supposed to do that—you know how wild that makes me.”

Shifting while straddling his thighs, you can’t pretend to not want this, especially when it's Toji of all people who’s looking at you through heavy lids, the tip of his tongue briefly touching the split skin of his scarred lip.

“Get on this dick, baby,” he exhales huskily.

Obediently, you mount him, letting him lift up your hips.

“Oh—Toji,” your caught gasp turns into a low moan when he stretches past the tight muscle, inching you down onto his leaking, throbbing cock.

There’s nothing in the world that can make him go insane other than the feeling of your walls lovingly wrapped around his thick length. Your tinier hands brace on his broad pecs, and you lean forward, tits right in his face and within inches from his mouth.

Toji lets you ride him slow and easy, perfectly happy to suck on your nipples till they're tight and sensitive. Your gasps hit the shell of his ear, and he fights back a shiver when you moan his name so sweetly it almost sounds like a hymn.

Sunlight splotches across your skin, illuminating you with an ethereal glow that Toji can’t keep his eyes off of.

You lean back, letting him touch the deepest parts of you while you continue to grind down on him in sensual circles.

“Happy Father’s Day, Toji.”

Your breathy wish makes him chuckle, and he starts to rub your clit, humming in pure adoration.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Best Father’s Day gift ever.

While some schmuck was getting a stick drawing from his kid and the cold shoulder from his old wife, Toji couldn’t help but think his gift was the absolute perfect start to the day.

Your mouth falls open, breathing growing heavier. He feels your walls pulse, your thighs starting to shake.

“Toji,” you whimper. “C-close.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he hums, increasing the rough circles he was rubbing with his thumb. “Are you going to be good for me? Going to cum for me?” He groans when you start to choke on his dick, and he can’t fight off the tense muscles and feral need to blow his entire soul into you. “Or, do you wanna make me a daddy again, hmm?”

Your hips stutter, and you cry out softly. “Yes.” Your eyes screw shut and he can’t have that. Toji’s free hand snakes around your throat, squeezing down on your windpipe just to hear you choke.

A cruel smirk draws up his lips, and he snickers. “Yes, what? What does a dirty whore like you really want?”

Your nails stab into his calves, and you shake your head from side to side, nipples peeking through the curtain of your hair; you’re trembling from head to toe.

“Daddy,” you manage to garble out, gasping when he slaps your ass to push you to ride him faster. “Oh—wanna make you a daddy again.”

“Fuck,” he spits out, grabbing your hips, jackhammering you up and down his raw, red cock. “Knew you’d want that, you little fucking slut. Fuck. Gonna fill you up all hot and thick, yeah? Keep my cock in there until it fucking takes and you become my little pregnant whore again.”

He pinches your nipples, slaps your tits so they jiggle obscenely. Your cries are cut off by his fingers in your mouth, gagging you into silent submission.

“M’wan it,” you gurgle around his digits, eyes glassy and lips wet with spit. “M’want your cum, Daddy.”

All the muscles in his body tenses. He’s hanging by a fucking thread.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans, gorgeous green eyes rolling back into his skull. You’re as delirious as him, biting down on your lower lip to stifle your moans, going cross eyed when he hits the golden spot inside of you which has your eyes fluttering close.

“Look at me.”

Toji’s rough demand and rougher hand grips your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Look at me when you cum, baby.”

You can’t keep the flood at bay, your body crumbling under his pressure.

Your husband is quick to catch you when you lapse into his arms, thrusting up into you as you can do nothing but take, take, take.

Those big hands spread your cheeks wider, and you love the feel of them on your body—so sturdy and strong.

There’s a tight tension coiling deep inside of you, and your eyes squeeze shut, mouth falling open as the band breaks and you shiver—flooding down his cock with a soft cry of his name.

Good girl, he moans. Cumming so pretty f’me.

Toji grunts, lips pulled back of over his teeth, snarl ready to devour you and plug you so full of him it fucking takes and you’ll be so round and glowing just for him—

“Papa!” His eyes wrench wide when he comes to the mortifying realization it's not you calling out for him.

The door slams open, and Toji barely has time to throw the blanket over your shoulders when three small figures come barging in.

You yelp, darting under his armpit as your two twin girls and son joyously crow out, “Happy Father’s Day!”

None of them, bless their tiny hearts, notice you’re both naked under the sheets. The orgasm he’s been denied rears its ugly head and Toji has to try his damndest not to grimace when his girls run over to him, stars in their eyes and butterfly pajamas rumpled.

“Darlings, what did mama say about barging in with no permission?”

In spite of the situation, you couldn’t help but burst out into tiny giggles at the disappointment on his face.

Serves him right. Now he knows how heartbreaking and sore it is to be on the receiving end of denial.

Toji can’t even shoot you a glare, not when his baby girl is clinging to his neck, rubbing her face into his 5 o’clock shadow.

“Dada, miss you,” she hums. “Wanna breakfast.”

Megumi, shyer than his two twin sisters, is the only one to notice your bare shoulder under the blanket.

“Ma, did you just come out from the shower?”

Hearing his question, Toji groans, head thrown back against the pillow.

Glowering at all three of his dark-haired squirts, he raises a brow, scarred lips twisted into a grimace.

“Okay, all of you. You need to get out of our room and go brush your teeth.”

Megumi opens his mouth to protest, but Toji quells it with a sour look.

“Now. Stat. Go.”

Taking pity on your three little troublemakers, you sigh and shake your head. “C’mon, darlings. Go and brush your teeth. I’ll be with you in a few minutes and then we can make pancakes for Papa, okay?”

Mentioning the twins’ favorite breakfast was enough for them to cry out in joy and bound out of the room. Megumi lags behind, still suspicious as to why his father and stepmom were both being evasive.

But, the idea of pancakes appeals to him even more, especially when you make his favorite chocolate chip one, and the boy leaves you two alone.

The door closes and Toji groans, pushing his sweaty bangs from his forehead. “We really need to remember to lock the door next time.”

You hum. “At least Tsumiki is with my mom. She’d probably freak out.”

Gathering yourself with enough composure, you lean forward, intending to give him a chaste kiss when Toji grabs your ass, dragging you back onto his lap.

“Baby,” you warn, but he’s not listening, trailing kisses down your neck. “The kids—”

“—can wait,” he murmurs, green eyes darkening, filled with an insatiable hunger just for you.

Smacking his shoulder, you giggle. If there’s one thing your daughters inherited from you, it was your impatience whenever food was mentioned. “Barbarian. You know that door will not stand against Sora and Seia. We have plenty of time for that after breakfast.”

To soothe his stinging ego, you tenderly cup his cheek, nuzzling both your noses together.

“In fact, we have until lunch. So, you better keep your promise to knock me up again after this, Fushiguro Toji.”

Toji can’t help it when you smile this brightly, putty to your charms.

“Fine. You win this time, Mrs. Fushiguro.”

— literally could not stop thinking abt him i think i need to be sedated .... rbs and comments are neat thank you <3

©️ lalunanymph.

#🦢 writes #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #stepmom!reader #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk au

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misswynters · 28 days ago

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Lil Daredevils with big hearts

featuring. ekko x wife!reader

note. i need more aunt! jinx (this is horrible i don’t like it but i’ve spent way too much time on this)

requested. by anon

Your birthday had been a quiet affair so far, just you, Ekko, and the twins at the Firelight hideout. You hadn’t expected much; after all, it was difficult to celebrate properly in a city like this. But your daughters, ever the spirited pair, had whispered and giggled all morning, plotting something secret. You knew they wanted to surprise you, but you couldn’t have guessed how far they’d go.

The more mischievous of the two, had decided that a proper birthday gift was non-negotiable. Her twin, more cautious but equally devoted, followed her lead. Together, they hatched a plan: She would swipe something special from a merchant in the Piltover market while her sister kept watch. It was innocent enough in their young minds, a way to show how much they loved their mama. But even at five years old, the twins underestimated the risk.

The plan unraveled quickly. The more excited twin had barely snatched a sparkling trinket from a vendor’s table when the merchant shouted, drawing the attention of none other than Caitlyn Kiramman. The Enforcer’s sharp eyes caught sight of the tiny thief darting between stalls, her twin calmer sister trailing behind, trying to call her back. Caitlyn’s voice rang out, calm yet commanding. “Stop right there!”

But the twins didn’t stop. Fear propelled them forward, their small feet pattering against the cobblestones. Caitlyn sighed, reaching for her rifle, intending only to fire a warning shot to make them halt. The sight of the weapon, however, filled you with cold dread as you turned the corner and saw the scene unfolding. Your maternal instincts overrode all reason, and without hesitation, you threw yourself between Caitlyn and the girls just as her finger accidentally squeezed the trigger.

The shot echoed through the narrow street, sharp and unforgiving. Pain exploded in your side as the bullet tore through flesh, and you stumbled, clutching the wound as blood seeped between your fingers. The twins froze in horror, their eyes wide and filled with tears. Caitlyn lowered her rifle instantly, her face stricken with regret. “Oh my gods… I didn’t mean—”

The chaos only deepened as Ekko and Vi arrived, drawn by the sound of gunfire. Ekko’s eyes went wide as he took in the sight of you on the ground, bleeding, with Caitlyn standing nearby, rifle still in hand. Rage replaced the shock in an instant. “What the hell did you do?” he snarled, rushing to your side.

Vi, confused and alarmed, held up her hands. “Cait, what’s going on? Who are they?”

Caitlyn stammered, clearly shaken. “I didn’t know they were children—she just—she jumped in the way!”

Before Ekko could unleash the full force of his anger, a familiar chaotic energy entered the scene. Jinx appeared out of nowhere, her wild grin softening when she saw the twins huddled together, crying. “Hey, hey, what’s all this fuss about?” she said, kneeling to their level. “Don’t worry, Auntie Jinx is here.”

You managed a weak smile through the pain. “Jinx… take them. Please.”

Ekko didn’t even need to look to know you trusted her implicitly. Jinx gently scooped up the twins, her tone uncharacteristically soothing. “Come on, munchkins. Let’s go somewhere fun, yeah? Don’t worry about your mama. She’s tougher than she looks.”

The twins clung to her, still sniffling, but they didn’t protest. With one last glance at you, Jinx disappeared as swiftly as she had arrived, the twins safe in her care.

Ekko turned his attention back to Caitlyn and Vi, his protective instincts blazing. “You pointed a gun at my daughters?” he hissed, his voice dangerously low.

Caitlyn stepped forward, guilt etched into every line of her face. “I didn’t know they were yours, Ekko. They were running, and I—”

“That’s no excuse,” Ekko snapped, cutting her off. “They’re kids. My kids. You don’t aim a gun at children, ever.”

Vi, still piecing everything together, held up her hands. “Wait, wait. You’re married? And you have kids?”

“Uh. Yeah, Vi,” Ekko shot back, his tone sharp. “Surprise. Maybe if you and your Enforcer girlfriend weren’t so trigger-happy, you’d probably know that by now.”

“Ekko,” you murmured weakly, placing a hand on his arm. “It was an accident. Please let it go.”

He knelt beside you, his anger softening as he saw the pain in your eyes. “Let it go? She shot you.”

“It was my choice,” you said, your voice firm despite the pain. “I saw the gun, and I jumped. She didn’t mean to.”

Caitlyn crouched down, meeting your gaze with a sincerity that was hard to ignore. “I swear to you, I would never intentionally harm anyone, especially not a child. I’m so sorry.”

Ekko didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tight as he tried to rein in his emotions. Vi stepped closer, her expression more serious now. “Look, I get why you’re pissed. If someone hurt my family, I’d lose it too. But Caitlyn made a mistake. Let us help. We’ll get her patched up.”

You reached for Ekko’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Please, my love.”

He let out a long breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Fine. But we’re not done talking about this.”

Vi nodded, offering her hand to help you up. “Fair enough. Let’s get you somewhere safe first.”

Later, back at the Firelight hideout, Ekko hovered over you as you rested on your shared bed, the wound bandaged but still tender. The twins were with Jinx in another part of the hideout, their giggles faintly audible through the walls.

Vi and Caitlyn stood nearby, both uncharacteristically quiet. Ekko finally broke the silence, his voice low but firm. “You’re lucky she’s okay. If she wasn’t…”

“I know,” Caitlyn said softly, her usual confidence replaced by remorse. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Vi crossed her arms, glancing at you. “For what it’s worth, you’ve got guts. Jumping in like that? Not many people would do that.”

You managed a small smile. “Not many people have kids like mine.”

Ekko sat beside you, his hand resting over yours. “They’re lucky to have you as their mom.”

Despite the lingering tension, the room felt a little lighter. Jinx’s voice suddenly called out from the other room. “Hey! The mischievous one is trying to climb the wall again! Who taught these kids to be such little daredevils?”

Ekko sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I wonder where they get it from.”

You laughed softly, wincing as the movement tugged at your side. “Maybe their dad?”

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banner. @anitalenia art. not mine

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quicksilversnails · 13 days ago

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Took some notes from the Wild Life retrospective episode of the Imp & Skizz podcast featuring Grian because I thought the behind the scenes info was really interesting!

(3:15) The wild cards were all kept totally secret from the players (apart from Grian), with the exception of the superpowers and finale (as they required the players to set keybinds)

(3:45) The players were given files containing the required mods each week, which were named things like "creeper rain" to throw them off

(4:12) Wild cards were a combination of data packs and mods

(4:38) Grian told them not to read the folder name to avoid spoilers (which is kind of impossible), so everyone fully believed there would be creeper rain lol. Grian was saying it in jest but everyone took it seriously and were apologetic about having seen it, to which Grian told them not to worry

(6:58) Grian originally contacted a data pack dev called Brace for help with programming the wild cards. Some, like the shrinking/growing could be achieved with minecraft attributes, but the snails were too janky and unusable. Grian still liked the idea though, so he reached out to mod developers Henkelmax and Breadloaf, who designed the pathfinding/behaviour from scratch

(8:49) They had a debugging mode used to test the pathfinding of the snails, shown in the podcast and in Grian's credits

(10:09) Grian wants most of the credit to go to the development team and artists, as he was mostly in charge of ideas & organization!

(10:39) Grian's only regret with the snails was that they were too fast in session 3, leading to unexpectedly many deaths. They were apparently not so difficult to get away from during testing, but perhaps the testers were more used to them than the players were

(11:44) Grian: "We did develop to the lowest common denominator" ie. prioritizing how players would struggle over how worrying about if players would do too well

(12:56) Oli's voice for the snails was iconic. It cost Impulse a life because he intentionally stayed closer to it to hear the voice lol

(13:42) Danny was in charge of the snail models and animations

(14:11) During testing, the snails just sounded like Oli, which made it feel weird. They pitched up his voice so that it'd be less immediately recognizable

(15:18) The snails' jumping attack was meant to be clearly telegraphed: they would stop, wiggle, make a "ooeee" sound before jumping. Many players had their friendly creatures volume turned very low/off (as cows and other mobs are loud), which made this attack much less obvious for them

(16:57) The growing/shrinking had the least testing done for it, as it was the simplest conceptually and to program. This meant that the falling off of blocks due to the shrinking hitboxes wasn't anticipated

(17:55) Before the 1st session, Grian told them that he didn't think anyone would die to the wild card. Pearl's death made Grian pretty nervous, as he didn't want everyone dying too early in the season

(19:29) 6 lives were given, knowing that many of the death to the wild cards were unexpected/unfair. The intent was for ~3 lives to be allocated for wild cards, and ~3 for PvP.

(21:13) The developers were all fans of the Life Series!

(22:43) The shrinking/growing was intentionally pretty simple to ease players/viewers into the concept and build up toward more dramatic wild cards like the snails

(25:38) In the hunger episode, Grian didn't know which foods would be good

(25:58) Grian thinks that "it's unfair that Grian already knows everything" is valid criticism, but that it's important for him to be involved with the ideas. Having someone else do that is like having someone else record his videos: Life Series is his brainchild

(26:35) Well before the season began, while they were still developing the concept, Grian asked the other players for wild card ideas that would meet a few criteria. All of them ended up being unused for one reason or another. Impulse thinks his ideas were very "inside the box" because he was viewing things through what was possible in vanilla Minecraft. His idea was to have a scavenger hunt where the players would search to find a relic. The first person to find it would get a buff. Skizz's idea was for every player to turn into a random passive mob for every given interval of time. They would have to find every other player of the same mob type as them or else the whole group loses a life.

(29:44) The food qualities were weighted by the rarity of the item, so very common blocks like dirt and cobblestone would never give anything good. The other items were randomly selected

(30:23) Regular blocks/items cannot be made edible normally, so they had to circumvent that and custom code a fix for items not stacking correctly

(32:41) While a lot of players do want to win, the main priority is creating entertainment, which prioritizes playing recklessly

(33:20) The food wild card wasn't included in the finale because it would've felt like "too much". There was a higher risk of technical issues since it changed the data values of items, and Grian didn't want someone's last death to be because they ate their sword. In his mind, it was a good and fun wild card, but didn't need to be repeated in the finale. Impulse points out that they all would have collected more rare items by that point, removing the incentive to search for blocks to eat

(33:46) The wild cards in the finale were nerfed from their original sessions. The shrinking/growing had a smaller height range, the snails moved slower, etc.

(36:21) The personalized snail skins were a late addition by Danny, who made 18 skins very quickly

(36:49) Grian did not anticipate the snails becoming as popular with fans as they were. After the session released, they had the idea to release the snail merchandise, which directly funded the rest of the season

(39:20) Grian spent what "felt like every day" testing with the developers. They'd record the sessions on Tuesdays, meet up with the dev team, talk about what need to be done, testing, bugs, etc, edit and upload on Saturday, and would get a few days grace before starting again

(40:01) After the snail session, Grian was worried that the season would be very short due to all the deaths. They were considering toning down the later wild cards but ultimately didn't change them too much

(40:36) The time wild card was carefully balanced. If it had gone even a little faster, many players likely would have died because they wouldn't have time to react to threats like baby zombies or creepers.

(40:57) While sessions normally run for a variable amount of time, session 4 was hardcoded at 2 hours. Grian ended the session ~10 minutes early, just after they hit max speed, because he felt like things were getting dicey

(42:46) When the wild card first activates, it looks a lot like the server had frozen or crashed. Grian told the players before the session started that it would look like the game was broken, but that it isn't broken. Skizz tabbed out anyway and missed the beginning 😔

(43:30) Having the rain start just as the wild card began was a good visual indicator of time slowing down. This was a suggestion from the dev team (probably Brace)

(44:41) Impulse and Grian "cheesed" the end of the session by going branch mining. Grian wanted players to take advantage of the wild cards (eg. mining quickly, helping to kill someone), and not have them just be an annoyance.

(45:30) Keeping the client and server-side time stay in sync was challenging. The sky's motion was changed to be smoother on client-side. The players were also not as fast as the server (around 2x faster), the server was going faster than that, and the time of day was even faster

(46:56) The sounds were pitched up/down based on the speed to add to the effect

(27:46) In testing, if the players were made 7x faster, it would be basically unplayable, which was why it was capped at 2x speed. This made mobs very dangerous, as they were now faster than players and could catch up to you and kill you easily

(49:01) On several occasions, they had to extend the fuse duration of creepers to make them more fair. In the time session, their speed was only increased by ~10%

(49:39) Usually, Grian was the one to test the wild cards and notice when things like creeper speed would be an issue, since he was the one with experience making videos

(50:50) A challenge with balancing wild cards is accounting for the playstyles of so many players: reckless players like Scar and Skizz, "kind and gentle" players like Bigb who would stay off to the sides, and "the sweat squad" (Scott, Impulse) who play very cautiously

(52:48) Trivia Bot was the only wild card that was not planned in advance. Grian was struggling to come up with a wild card for that episode, and wanted to have a wild card available that could give people lives in case many people died to early wild cards without it feeling cheap.

(53:33) Trivia seemed a little boring on its face, so presentation was essential

(54:34) This one made Grian the most stressed due to all the moving parts involved in making it (coding and pathfinding mostly by Henkelmax, visuals by Hoffen, audio/music, questions)

(55:08) Trivia Bot's design was based on Grumbot and Mettaton from Undertale. Hoffen drew concept art shown in the video

(58:32) They show Trivia Bot's custom animation for becoming a snail and it's really cool

(59:12) The music was the most stressful part of the project. Grian spent 2-3 days looking through Epidemic Sounds for a Trivia Bot theme song and couldn't find anything good. He commissioned Zera @hopepetal for a theme song, which is played in the podcast. However, Grian realized he needed a full audio package, so he commissioned Oli late in development, who created the final soundtrack and many audio variations

(1:01:38) Grian wants to send appreciation for everyone who worked on the project, even if their work ultimately went unused

(1:02:58) Skizz was happy to give back however he could by staying on standby in the final episode as a zombie, as the players were able to "reap all the benefits" of the hard work of the development team

(1:05:21) Grian didn't know any of the trivia questions beforehand, which were done by fans of the series. The goal was for ~50% of the questions to be answered correctly, which was approximately met

(1:07:11) Players couldn't get questions about themselves because it would be too easy. This would encourage players to leave their bot, allowing other players to mess with them

(1:07:57) Grian felt a little left out from the discovery element of the wild cards, and decided to mess with Scar by hiding his bot. He wasn't expecting Scar to die from it, and could tell that he was genuinely a little upset by it. Grian felt bad about it, which led to a genuine in-game alliance between them

(1:12:32) Grian was very close to letting Trivia Bot give lives as rewards, but decided it would feel too cheap

(1:14:38) Mob swap was slightly toned down, with more camels and sniffers spawning

(1:15:07) Evokers didn't drop totems anymore. Instead, there was a minuscule chance a warden or wither would spawn, which would drop a totem if killed. Grian was a little disappointed that the warden got cheesed in the end

(1:17:45) Having the mobs start passive and turn hostile was mostly for the presentation, building anticipation, and so players could predict where mobs would spawn and react accordingly, making things feel less unfair

(1:20:32) There was no superpower made for Skizz (or Mumbo presumably)

(1:20:38) The superpowers were another late addition. There was a large design doc where Grian created all the powers, which were handed over to Henkelmax and completed over 4 days

(1:21:42) Grian avoided superpowers involving strength, that could cause someone to die easily. Most of the powers were social or movement-based, which couldn't be used for offence as easily

(1:22:25) Some powers were randomly assigned, others weren't. Impulse's was random. Cleo's, Bigb's, Lizzie's, Grian's were assigned.

(1:24:25) Grian gave himself the mimic because it could easily backfire (like in Grian's fall damage death), and because it would've been confusing for a player who wasn't aware of the other powers. They likely would've spent the episode just figuring out how everything worked and not actually using the power to its best ability

Lots of discussion about the superpowers and how they interacted in the episode itself, go watch if you're interested :)

(1:33:38) Talk on how the series "standard" rules evolved since 3rd Life. There was no keep inventory, and no restrictions on enchanting levels or potions, which created slow or unbalanced fights

(1:36:23) 3rd Life was designed to be an experimental series, which made Grian eager to improve it. For example, some people just weren't dying in 3L, leading to the boogeyman in LL, and so on

(1:37:17) The goal with the seasons isn't to one-up the previous one, but to create a different experience every time, which keeps things engaging for the creators

(1:38:31) At the end of each session, Grian would ask the group if they had fun and how they felt about the wild cards. According the Skizz, the answer was "a resounding yes"

(1:39:08) Grian had moments throughout the season where he personally felt like things didn't go well for him, and was anxious for the rest of the group's episodes. Things worked out while editing the raw footage, though. His issues were never with the wild cards themselves, but his own actions (traps not working, spending too long branch mining), but would always find funny moments in his footage

(1:43:41) Everyone in the Life Series cast genuinely likes and genuinely respects everybody else in the group. This allows them to make the show and get mad at each other, because they know it's all just in-character

(1:44:50) It'd be hard to top Wild Life in spectacle, and Grian doesn't want to start an arms race with himself. The next season could potentially be closer to 3rd Life, but Grian's not sure yet. For Grian, Wild Life was the most enjoyable

(1:45:20) Grian: "As long as people keep enjoying [the Life Series] then I'd love to keep doing it"

(1:49:35) With the finale, Grian knew how the wild cards played out the previous sessions and was able to adjust them

(1:49:56) Grian's goal was to create safe chaos where everyone knew what was happening and wouldn't die to them, which didn't go entirely to plan. The snails were 60% of their original speed and people still died

(1:51:03) Grian made a precise timeline of when each wild card would start/stop, it wasn't randomized.

(1:54:16) All the superpowers were randomized, with Bdubs' power being removed from circulation because it didn't have much use in a finale setting

(1:56:10) It was important for Grian that in the final moments, the wild cards were removed, so there were no interruptions. The timing worked out well because there were a few people left and it ended within ~10 minutes (this implies that the change wasn't based on # of players alive, as people had speculated based on Gem's death)

(1:58:48) The players all randomly switched to zombie skins throughout the session to mess with people on NameMC. Well-played :)

#og post #wildlife #grian #impulse #impulsesv #skizz #skizzleman #imp & skizz #mc meta #wild life smp #wlsmp #life series #trafficblr #traffic smp #<- dunno which life series tags are most commonly used but i hope i got all the major ones #long post #“i should write down the behind the scenes!” i thought. “it'll be quick!” i thought :')#as someone who did had some critiques about the structure of the season #i found it really insightful to hear about the design decisions from a behind the scenes perspective #digging into why it was made the way it was and what exactly about it worked/didn't work honestly helps me to appreciate #it more for what it was!#and it helped to truly understand and appreciate all the work that went into it #i probably included more details than needed but i just thought they were all really fascinating #like trivia bot being designed to have the option to give lives in case the early sessions were too deadly!#i was also surprised that the snail merch wasn't planned ahead of time #and i also tried to keep all the credits grian listed bc i think it's important!#i would recommend watching the full podcast ep! i didn't include a lot of imp & skizz's commentary since i was focusing on the technical &#behind the scenes details but they had lots of great insight

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natsaffection · 5 months ago

Note

just read your wandanat fic and it made me think of some thought of the that has had me on a spiral lately.

so imagine you have direct orders from both of them to not touch yourself but one day you are so needy you can’t help but touch a little and end up being caught red-handed by natasha.

of course she takes matters on her own hands and decides to punish you until wanda comes home. when she finally does, after a long wait, she makes a turn in nat’s ministrations, and decides you been edged long enough and you should pass to another form of torture. so now you are all over the edge and tied up to a chair (maybe with tendrils of wanda’s magic) forced to watch wanda fucking herself with nat’s cock. even if you are not having any sort of stimulation in that position, you can’t help but cum thanks to the scene in front of you and capting their attention again in the process.

that has been on my mind for literally weeks and if you could extend it into an actual thing, i’d love to read it!

Helpless Desire. | WandaNat

Dom!Natasha x Fem!Reader x Dom! Wanda

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, Heavy edging, Restraints and held to a chair by magic, Begging, beeing forced to watch people have sex, multiple orgasm

Word Count: 1,2k

A/N: I wrote this during a family dinner and almost went wild in my chair..🧎🏻‍♀️

You had clear instructions from Natasha and Wanda. Do not touch yourself. But the temptation gnawed at you today, a constant pain you tried to control. Today, the need was overwhelming. Alone in the apartment, your fingers hesitantly slid down your body, searching for relief. Just as you began to give in, the front door opened, and there stood Natasha, catching you in the act. “What do you think you’re doing?” Natasha’s voice was a dangerous purr.

Your breath hitched. “F-Fuck! I-I’m sorry! I…I couldn’t-” you stammered, your cheeks flushing with a mix of guilt and arousal. Natasha’s eyes narrowed, a smile playing on her lips. “Oh, you’ll regret this. Hands off, now.”

You pulled your hands back, slightly trembling. Natasha’s presence was commanding, her disappointment palpable. She approached you, her movements predatory, and grabbed your wrists. With quick, decisive movements, she bound your wrists together with the soft restraints they often used in their sessions, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

“You couldn’t wait, could you?” Natasha’s voice was a mix of amusement and frustration. “I thought we taught you better.” You bit your lip, your eyes pleading. “I’m sorry, Natasha, please, I was just…n-needy…”

“Needy? Oh, we’ll see about that,” Natasha replied ominously. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, teasing, pinching, and spanking, driving you to the brink of madness but never letting you fully go over the edge. Every touch was a reminder of your disobedience, every caress a tantalizing promise of what you couldn’t have. Your body writhed, your hips bucking against the restraints, desperately seeking more contact, more friction.

“Please, I need to- cum..!” you pleaded, your voice breaking with desperation, quickly cut off. “Silence,” Natasha snapped, her eyes narrowing. “You speak only when spoken to.”

Hours seemed to pass, the pleasure and frustration growing unbearable. Your body was a live wire, every nerve ending burning. Just as you thought you couldn’t take anymore, the front door opened again, and Wanda entered. Her eyes darkened as she took in the scene before her.

“What’s going on here?” Wanda asked, her voice deceptively calm, though it was clear she knew exactly what had happened. “She couldn’t control herself.“ Natasha explained, not stopping her touches on your trembling body.

Wanda’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Well, I think she’s been teased long enough, don’t you? Let’s change things up.”

With a flick of her wrist, strands of Wanda’s magic wrapped around you, lifting you from the bed and setting you into a chair. The magical restraints held you in place, forcing you to watch as Wanda and Natasha turned to each other.

“Sit right there and don’t take your eyes off us,” Wanda commanded, her voice full of authority. Your breath came in short gasps as Wanda’s magic undressed her effortlessly, and Natasha’s clothes soon followed. The sight of their naked bodies, so intimately familiar yet always arousing, left your mouth dry.

Wanda positioned herself over Natasha and took her lover’s shaft with a guttural moan. The sight was mesmerizing, and your body ached with a need that was almost painful.

“See what you could have if you just followed orders?” Wanda said, her eyes on you. “Watch closely, ahh~” Natasha’s hands gripped Wanda’s hips, guiding her movements as she thrust upward. The room filled with the sounds of their pleasure, each moan and gasp driving you closer to the edge. You writhed against the restraints, desperate for relief.

“Do you like what you see, Detka?” Natasha teased, her voice thick with desire. “This is what you miss when you’re disobedient.”

“God, please! Natasha, Wanda… I-” you begged, your eyes fixed on the scene before you. The sight of Wanda riding Natasha, the sounds of their pleasure, was too much. “It hurts, please let me join, please!”

Your pussy throbbed, desperate for attention, and you felt like you would explode from the sheer intensity of your arousal. “You brought this on yourself, Y/n,” Natasha said, panting, “Now you have to watch.”

You tried to look away, your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and frustration, but Wanda’s magic forced your head back, making you watch every second. The magic intensified your helplessness.

“N-No!!” you cried out, tears now flowing freely. “Fuck! I’ll do anything!!” Wanda moved faster on Natasha, her lips curling into a cruel smile. “You’ll watch and endure, my dear.”

As Natasha and Wanda’s rhythm grew rougher and faster, you could feel the pressure building inside you. The sounds of their pleasure filled the room, each moan and gasp sending waves of lust through your body.

Wanda’s gaze fixed on you again, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “Look at you, so needy,” she teased. “You think you deserve to be freed after being disobedient-“

But suddenly, your body convulsed as you came, a powerful climax that left you gasping for air. For a moment, you didn’t even realize you had cum, your mind overwhelmed by the sight and sounds before you. The sudden orgasm caught the attention of Natasha and Wanda, their expressions shifting from surprise to amusement.

“Did you just come? Without permission, no less?” Natasha’s voice was sharp, cutting through your haze of pleasure. You looked confused at your mess. “I… I didn’t mean to… I don’t even know-”

“Now you’ve really done it,” Wanda said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Natasha and Wanda exchanged a look, and Wanda’s magic tightened around you, holding you firm. “Let’s see how you handle round two,” Natasha said, her voice cold and commanding.

Natasha stepped aside, allowing Wanda to take center stage. With a flick of her wrist, Wanda summoned more magical threads, wrapping around your body, teasing and tormenting your sensitive spots.

“W-What…,” you whimpered, your body already exhausted from the intense orgasm. “No, please no…”

The magical threads danced over your skin, teasing your nipples, brushing your clit, sending waves of sensation through your already oversensitive body with no escape. “Please, please-” you begged, your voice breaking. “I’ll be good, I promise..!“

“You should have thought of that earlier,” Natasha said, her voice a deep growl. The magical threads continued their relentless torment, driving you to the brink once more. You writhed and struggled, your body a mix of pain and pleasure, your mind a fog of desperation. The room was filled with the sounds of your cries and the moans of Natasha and Wanda as they pleasured themselves.

Finally, the magic brought you to another peak, your body convulsing with the intensity. You screamed, your vision blurring as you were driven over the edge once more.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, you slumped in the chair, your body trembling and exhausted. Natasha and Wanda approached you, their expressions a mix of satisfaction and approval.

“Now you might think twice before being disobedient,” Natasha said, her voice soft but firm. Wanda gently stroked your hair, a rare moment of tenderness. “Rest now. You’ve earned it.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha #wandanat x reader #wanda smut #wanda maximommy #wandanat smut #wanda x reader

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pandapetals · 25 days ago

Text

Tennesse Whiskey

You go over to Xavier's mansion looking for Charles only to be greeted by Logan.

dofp!logan howlett x fem!reader - logan is a bit of an ass, no y/n used, no reader description, cussing, reader has fiery personality inspired by daisy jones, 70s setting, making out, liquor play, sweetheart/gorgeous and good girl pet names used, rough kissing, teasing banter

a/n: AHKJAHSAJKH - this is me rn because i am a bitch in heat. someone asked for a sequel to electric fever and i was like wtf am i supposed to write? then the tiktok gods blessed me with a scene from crashing (thank you jonathan bailey, i love you) and here we are. *takes several deep shaky breaths*

divider credit: @enchanthings

The car’s engine sputtered to silence as you rolled to a stop in front of the ruins of what was once Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. The sign above the crumbling arch hung crookedly, the paint faded and peeling, like the rest of the mansion. The grass had given way to dirt, and vines snaked up the sides of the building like nature was reclaiming it.

You killed the engine, the sudden quiet making the eerie emptiness of the place feel heavier. For a second, you hesitated, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. It had been a few days since you had sex with Logan, and no matter how much you told yourself you didn’t regret it, there was still a weight in your chest. Maybe it was irritation. Or curiosity. Either way, you hated that he lingered in your thoughts.

With a sharp breath, you shoved the door open and stepped out, your knee-high boots crunching against dry dirt where there should have been grass. You squared your shoulders, slung your bag over one arm, and marched up the weathered stairs to the front door, slamming your fist against the wood three times in rapid succession. Each knock echoed into the emptiness like the whole mansion was mocking you.

The door creaked open slowly, the hinges protesting loudly. And there he was.

Logan filled the doorway like a permanent fixture, wearing a tight white tank that clung to his chest and shoulders like it was painted on. His hair stuck up in its usual wild tufts, and there was that smirk—the same cocky, aggravating one that made your blood boil. He leaned casually against the doorframe, one hand resting on the edge, the other holding a half-smoked cigar.

“Was wondering when you’d come begging for more,” he drawled. The scent of smoke and whiskey clung to him like an aura.

Your eyes narrowed. “In your dreams, Logan.”

“Pretty sure you’ve been dreamin’ about it, sweetheart,” he shot back, stepping aside as you pushed past him into the mansion.

“Where the fuck is Charles?” you snapped, your boots echoing against the dusty wooden floors as you glanced around. The place was cold and hollow, and the quiet gnawed at your nerves. “I have no idea what’s going on, and I’m not in the mood for your shit. So where is he?”

Logan let the door fall shut behind you with a heavy thud, his smirk only widening as he tucked his cigar between his teeth. “He isn’t here.”

You turned on him, hands on your hips. “Then when will he be back? What about Hank?”

“Gone, too,” he said, shrugging like it was the least of his concerns. “But hey, you’ve got me.”

You glared at him, your patience wearing thinner by the second. “Guess I’ll wait here.”

Logan chuckled, a deep, rough sound that sent heat curling low in your stomach— which you immediately ignored . He sauntered closer, his boots scuffing lazily against the floor as he towered over you, his presence almost suffocating.

“Sure you wanna stay? ‘Cause I can think of at least a dozen ways you could make better use of your time,” he teased, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that made you want to slap him. Or kiss him. No, definitely slap him.

“Don’t,” you snapped, pointing a finger in his face before he could finish whatever smug remark was brewing. “You’re too cocky for your own good.”

Logan leaned in just enough for you to catch the faintest hint of smoke and whiskey. “And you love it,” his voice dropped to that infuriatingly low, gravelly tone that scraped against your nerves.

Your glare burned hotter, but you didn’t flinch. “Keep pushing me, and you’ll find out exactly how much I love punching that smug grin off your face.”

Logan’s smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he backed away, hands raised like he was surrendering. “Alright, alright. No need to get feisty. I’ll behave...”

He spun on his heel and walked away, his broad shoulders still annoyingly relaxed. “But hey,” he called over his shoulder, voice dripping with amusement, “if you do wanna go another round, you know where to find me.”

You let out a frustrated groan, your fingers itching to throw something at the back of his head. Instead, you dropped your bag with a thud and stalked after him.

“Got any liquor, asshole?” you snapped, catching up to him as he crossed into what used to be the mansion’s formal parlor.

Logan’s chuckle rumbled through the hollow space, and the sound made your teeth clench. “Sorry to disappoint, sweetheart, but Charles drank it all,” he said, not even bothering to turn around as he sauntered toward an old end table by the far wall.

You rolled your eyes, quickening your pace until you were walking in stride with him. “Since when did Charles turn into a goddamn alcoholic?” you quipped, earning yourself a half-smirk from Logan.

“Apparently, you’ve missed a lot of things,” he replied, his voice dripping with amusement as he reached the end table. He pulled the cigar from his mouth placing it on the table. Sitting on top was a tarnished gold tray, a lone bottle of whiskey, and a single glass. He picked up the glass, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he poured himself a generous splash. The amber liquid caught the faint light streaming through the grimy windows.

Your eyes narrowed as you leaned against the massive wooden table in the center of the room, crossing your arms. “You’re fucking kidding me,” you said, your tone sharp. “You have whiskey? After all that, you’re just gonna pour yourself a glass and pretend I don’t exist?”

Logan turned to face you, glass in hand, and that damn smirk of his widened. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle a little disappointment?” He took a slow sip, his gaze never leaving yours, like he was daring you to argue.

Your lips curled into a scowl, the heat in your chest climbing fast. “Do you have to be so insufferable? Or is that just a natural talent?”

“Natural talent,” he said easily, setting the glass down on the tray before picking up the bottle. He held it up, inspecting the label like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “And besides, there’s not enough here for two.”

You straightened up from the table, your fists planted on your hips. “Like hell, there isn’t.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, turning his full attention to you, the whiskey bottle dangling from his hand. “You that desperate, sweetheart?”

“Desperate?” you repeated with a sharp laugh, stalking toward him now. “I’ve put up with your bullshit long enough, Logan. If there’s one thing that’ll make it even remotely tolerable, it’s a drink. So, stop being an ass and pour me one.”

He didn’t move, though his smirk deepened, his teeth glinting wolfishly. “You want whiskey that bad?” he asked, his voice dropping to that gravelly, infuriating drawl that sent a shiver up your spine, whether you liked it or not.

“Obviously,” you snapped, stopping just short of where he stood.

“Alright then.” He set the bottle back on the tray, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. When he turned back to you, his eyes glinted with something dark, teasing, and far too confident. “C’mere.”

You blinked, your brow furrowing. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, stepping closer, his boots clicking softly against the floorboards. He towered over you now, his body radiating heat, and you could feel his breath, warm and laced with whiskey, as he leaned in. “You want a drink? I’ll give you one.”

“Logan, if this is one of your—”

Before you could finish, his hands gripped your waist, lifting you effortlessly and setting you down on the edge of the wooden table. The rough surface creaked under your weight, and your boots dangled an inch above the floor. You glared at him, heat rising in your cheeks as you pointed a finger at his chest. “You are such a—”

“Open your mouth,” he interrupted his voice a low growl, his hands still resting lightly on your hips.

Your jaw dropped—not from obedience but from sheer disbelief. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

He nodded, his smirk practically feral. “Dead serious, sweetheart. Now, open up.”

For a second, you debated decking him right then and there. But there was something in his eyes—a challenge, an invitation—that made your blood run hotter. Against your better judgment, you rolled your eyes and parted your lips.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and the low rasp in his tone sent a flicker of heat straight to your core.

You barely had time to glare at him before he brought the whiskey glass to his lips and took a slow sip. But instead of swallowing, he leaned forward, his mouth brushing against yours as he tilted his head. The whiskey spilled between your lips, hot and smooth, but before you could react, his tongue followed, sliding past your teeth and deepening the contact.

The kiss hit you like a punch—messy, heated, and all-consuming. The whiskey burned down your throat, but it was nothing compared to the fire spreading through your veins. Logan’s hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you, and your hands instinctively tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer.

Your teeth grazed his bottom lip, and he let out a low growl, his hands sliding up to grip your thighs. The table groaned under the weight of your combined intensity, but neither of you gave a damn. His tongue teased yours, the lingering taste of whiskey making you crave more—of the drink, of him, of everything.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Logan pulled back just enough to look at you. His lips were wet and swollen, a faint sheen of whiskey lingering on them, and the gleam in his eyes—dark, dangerous, hungry—sent a jolt straight to your stomach.

You licked your lips, tasting whiskey and him, and your voice came out more breathless than you intended. “Now are you going to pour me a glass, or what?”

Logan let out a low, gravelly chuckle that made your thighs tighten where his hands still rested. “Are you gonna beg for it?”

Your eyes narrowed, your irritation flaring instantly. “Do I look like a girl who begs?” you snapped, moving to hop off the table. But his hands didn’t let you. His grip tightened on your thighs, rough and unyielding, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” he rasped, his smirk widening. “You’re the one who asked for a drink. Don’t tell me you’re backing out now.”

You glared at him, the heat in your chest climbing higher. “I’m not backing out of shit,” you shot back, your fingers darting toward the bottle still sitting on the tray. “If you’re not gonna share, I’ll just help myself.”

You managed to grab the whiskey, the cool glass smooth in your palm, but before you could bring it to your lips, Logan’s hand shot out, covering yours and wrenching the bottle away with infuriating ease.

“Nice try,” he growled, tilting the bottle to his mouth and taking a long, deliberate swig right in front of you. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and when he lowered the bottle, his tongue flicked out to catch the drop sliding down the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a goddamn child,” you bit out, seething. “Can’t even share a drink.”

Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips. “Oh, I’ll share. But I don’t think you really want the whiskey, sweetheart,” he said, stepping closer until your knees pressed against his sides. “I think you just wanted an excuse to kiss me.”

You huffed out a laugh, sharp and biting. “You’re full of yourself.”

“And you like it,” he shot back, his voice dipping low as he leaned in. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, and the deep rasp sent a shiver racing down your spine. “Admit it.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of rattling you—at least, not yet. “You’re delusional,” you muttered, though your voice faltered when his lips trailed down to your jaw, the scruff of his beard scraping against your skin.

He hummed, the vibration made your breath hitch. “Am I?” he murmured, his mouth skimming down to the curve of your neck. His teeth grazed your pulse point, and you gasped softly, your hands instinctively gripping the front of his tank top. “Because I think I’m in your head, sweetheart. Under your skin. And I think you like it.”

You opened your mouth to snap back, but then his lips latched onto your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Heat bloomed across your skin, spreading down your chest and pooling low in your stomach as his tongue soothed the spot before he moved lower, biting and kissing a trail along the side of your throat.

“Logan,” you said, his name spilling from your lips half in warning, half desire.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and wild, his hands sliding up from your thighs to grip your hips, firm and possessive. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough and fraying at the edges. “Admit it.”

You swallowed hard, your nails digging into his chest. “Admit what?” you asked, your voice shaky but defiant, even as you felt your resolve crumbling.

“That you like how I get under your skin,” he said, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. His breath was warm, tinged with whiskey, and it made your pulse race. “That you like the way I make you crazy.”

Your jaw tightened, but you didn’t look away from him, your breathing uneven as his hands gripped you tighter, his thumbs stroking small, maddening circles against your skin.

Finally, you huffed, rolling your eyes as your cheeks burned. “Fine,” you said, your voice sharp but barely more than a breath. “I like it. You happy now?”

The second the words left your mouth, Logan growled—a deep, guttural sound that made your entire body shiver. “Not yet,” he muttered, and then his mouth was on yours again, harder this time, hungrier.

His kiss was fierce, devouring as if your admission had broken whatever thread of control he’d been holding onto. His hands slid up your sides, tugging you closer to the edge of the table, and you wrapped your legs around his waist without even realizing it, your body moving on instinct.

You tugged at his tank top, fisting the fabric in your hands as his lips moved against yours, hot and demanding. When his teeth nipped at your bottom lip, you gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours.

Your fingers slid up into his hair, tugging hard enough to draw a low groan from him, and the sound sent a thrill racing through you. He broke the kiss only to trail his mouth down your neck again, nipping and sucking in a way that had you arching into him, your breath coming fast and uneven.

“ Logan ,” you managed to gasp, your head tilting back as his teeth scraped against your collarbone.

Logan’s lips moved against your neck like he had something to prove, teeth grazing just enough to make your breath hitch. His hands were everywhere—rough palms sliding up your waist, fingertips pressing into your ribs like he wanted to memorize every inch of you.

Your brain was short-circuiting, every thought scattered to the wind except for more . It was all you could think, all you could feel as the heat of him pressed closer, his broad body trapping you against the table.

“More,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your fingers curled tighter into the fabric of his tank top, pulling him closer, needing him closer. “I need more.”

Logan growled low in his throat. “You sure about that, sweetheart?” he rasped, his breath hot against your skin.

Before you could answer, his hands moved, tugging at the hem of your shirt, and before you knew it, the fabric was sliding up and over your head. He tossed it aside without a second thought, baring you to him in nothing but your bra. His gaze dropped, and the way his eyes darkened made heat flood through you, your entire body flushing under the weight of his stare.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he muttered, his hands cupping your waist as he leaned back in, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that stole the air from your lungs. His hands roamed higher, his thumbs brushing over the edge of your bra, and you let out a soft gasp against his mouth.

Your legs tightened around his hips, and he groaned as your fingers slid under the fabric of his tank top, nails raking lightly against the hard planes of his stomach. Logan’s mouth was everywhere, moving from your lips to your jaw, then down your throat to the sensitive spot at the base of your neck.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he growled against your skin, his voice rough and ragged.

“Just hurry up,” you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair as his teeth scraped against your collarbone.

Logan chuckled, low and dark, the vibration of it making you shiver. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of your bra, and you were about two seconds away from helping him when—

“Ahem.”

The sound cut through the heated fog like a bucket of ice water, and Logan froze. His lips stilled against your skin, his hands halting mid-motion.

Your head snapped up, and there, standing in the threshold was Charles and Hank.

Charles’s expression was between mildly amused and thoroughly exasperated, his hands clasped neatly in front of him. Hank, on the other hand, was wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open slightly like his brain hadn’t quite caught up with what he was seeing.

Logan reacted faster than you, snapping into action like nothing had happened—though the growl rumbling low in his chest told a different story. He grabbed your shirt from where it had been tossed, spinning you away from the two men as he yanked the fabric back over your head with the kind of speed and efficiency that only Logan could manage.

“Don’t look,” he barked over his shoulder, his hands still adjusting your shirt as though shielding you from view would undo the last few seconds. “Turn the fuck around.”

Hank immediately slapped a hand over his face, turning away so fast he almost tripped over his own feet. “I—I didn’t see anything!” he stammered, his voice pitched a little too high.

Charles, however, didn’t move, his lips twitching as though he was suppressing a smile. “Logan,” he said calmly, the faintest hint of dry amusement in his tone. “I see that you’ve been… preoccupied.”

“Not another word,” Logan growled, his voice low and dangerous as he adjusted your shirt one last time before stepping in front of you, blocking you from view entirely.

You, still catching your breath and absolutely mortified, peeked out from behind Logan’s broad shoulders, glaring at the two intruders. “Now you want to show up?” you snapped, your cheeks burning hotter than they ever had in your life.

“Quite honestly, I didn’t expect to find… this ,” Charles replied smoothly, gesturing vaguely to the two of you. “If I had known, I assure you, I would have announced my presence more tactfully.”

Charles cleared his throat, glancing down briefly at the floor before looking back up at Logan with an air of professional detachment. “We’ll give you both a moment to, ah… compose yourselves,” he said, gesturing for Hank to follow him out.

Hank, still not looking at either of you, mumbled something unintelligible and practically bolted for the hallway. Charles followed at a much more measured pace, but not before casting one last glance over his shoulder. “When you’re done, Logan, I’d appreciate it if you could join us in the study. We have matters to discuss.”

Logan didn’t respond, his glare enough to send Charles out without another word.

The moment they were gone, you let out a sharp exhale, your hands covering your face as you groaned into your palms. “I hate you,” you said, though your words were muffled.

Logan chuckled, turning back to you with a shit-eating grin. “No, you don’t.”

You glared at him through your fingers. “I mean it, Logan. I hate you.”

“That right?” he said, stepping closer, his hands finding your waist again as his smirk softened.

Your cheeks burned hotter, and you shoved at his chest—not that it did much, considering he was built like a goddamn brick wall. “I’m serious. I hate you.”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he shot back, leaning down to press a quick, teasing kiss to your lips before stepping away entirely. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go deal with these two before they pass out from whatever they just walked in on.”

He held out a hand to help you off the table, and though you glared at him for a long moment, you eventually took it, letting him pull you to your feet.

“You owe me whiskey after this,” you muttered, adjusting your shirt as you brushed past him.

Logan chuckled, following close behind. “Oh, I’ll give you more than whiskey, sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice thick with amusement. “But only if you ask nicely.”

You shot him a scathing look over your shoulder, but the slight curve of your lips gave you away.

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kazmura · 13 days ago

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‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ badboy!niki x fem, 1.1k, est relationship kinda angsty to fluff, ‎‎‎ when getting punched in the face is the only way to stop ur boyfriends heated fight

› duck boy collection

Fights were a common occurrence at your school. Fortunately, you had never witnessed one yourself. Your friends would relay the gory details. It would always start with two students bickering aggressively until one of them finally throws a punch. From there, it turned into an all-out war, with students crowding and pushing each other to capture videos of the chaos. It would only end when a teacher finally stepped in, prompting everyone to scatter, not wanting to get in trouble.

Walking out by the side of the school, the sounds of students yelling and loud grunts caught your attention. Students crowded around each other to form a circle, cameras held high in the air trying to capture the scene. You had definitely missed phase one, and you sure weren’t sticking around for the rest. But as you turned to walk away, your heart stopped at the sound of a familiar voice coming from the direction of the circle.

Your boyfriend had never been much of a fighter. Though he sometimes came across as cold, you knew him as sweet and gentle, someone who avoided conflict whenever he could. The sight of him now, standing in the center of the chaos, fists clenched, made you immediately worry. What could have pushed him to this point? Your stomach twisted as you debated whether to step in or call for help. The crowd roared as the tension between the two boys escalated, but all you could focus on was the look in his eyes, one you’d never seen before. His face was littered with small cuts, and his lip was swollen, likely from a hard punch. Determined, you began pushing your way through the crowd, ignoring the protests and shoves from students more interested in capturing the fight on their phones than stopping it.

“Move!” you shouted, your voice sharp with urgency. The closer you got, the clearer the scene became, his opponent, equally battered, was gearing up for another strike. Without thinking, you stepped into the circle, placing yourself between them. Before you could react, a sudden force hit the side of your face, a wild swing meant for your boyfriend but landing squarely on you instead. Pain exploded through your jaw as you stumbled back, the world tilting for a moment. Niki's eyes widened in horror as he caught you before you fell, his hands trembling as he held you.

“yn!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking with panic. The fight immediately lost its fire. His opponent froze, guilt flickering across his face, while the students around you began murmuring. The circle quickly dissolved as the reality of what had just happened set in.

Niki gently helped you to your feet, his hands shaking as he steadied you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern, his anger completely replaced by worry.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, though the throbbing pain in your jaw said otherwise. You glanced around at the scattering crowd, some students still lingering, their phones lowered but still recording.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said softly, his arm slipping protectively around you.

The nurse’s office was quiet except for the soft sound of Niki’s movements as he tended to your face. His hands were gentle as he carefully wiped away the blood from your lip, his brows furrowed in concentration. You sat silently on the examination table, your arms crossed tightly, giving him the cold shoulder.

“I’m really sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with regret. You didn’t respond, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor, the silence between you both growing heavier.

He let out a soft sigh, continuing to work with the supplies in front of him. “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I never wanted you to get hurt.”

You bit your lip, the anger still simmering inside you. Whatever it was, he should’ve never let it escalate this far.

Niki paused, glancing at you with a quiet plea in his eyes. “Please talk to me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t stand this silence.”

“Why did you fight?”

His hands paused for a moment, then he sighed deeply, his eyes not meeting yours. “They were saying horrible things about you,” he admitted quietly. “I couldn’t just let them talk like that about the person I care about.”

You felt a pang in your chest, but the anger still clouded your judgment. “I don’t care what they say,” you replied firmly, turning your head to finally meet his gaze. “I just want you to be safe. I don’t want you to get hurt for me.”

His expression softened, and he set the medical supplies down, his hands now resting on his knees. He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and understanding. "I promise," he said softly. "I’ll never do it again. I just didn’t know what else to do. I couldn't stand them talking about you like that."

Leaning forward from your spot on the nurse's bed, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. He instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close as you both stood there, the tension between you slowly melting away.

"I just want you safe," you whispered against his shoulder, feeling his breath hitch as he held you a little tighter.

"I know," he murmured, his voice soft. "I’ll never let anything happen to you."

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your hands still resting on his shoulders. His eyes were full of sincerity, and for the first time since the fight, you felt your heart calm. "I trust you," you said, your voice quieter now. "Just please, no more fighting, okay?"

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "No more fighting," he repeated firmly. "I promise."

You smiled faintly, then leaned up to kiss him gently. The soft contact between your lips lingered for a moment before it deepened, the kiss growing more intense as your hands found their way to his hair. His grip around your waist tightened, pulling you even closer, and you could feel his heart beating just as fast as yours. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

"I mean it," you whispered, still holding him close. "No more fighting."

He nodded, his lips brushing against yours once more. "I promise," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll do anything for you."

pulling this one out the drafts, its lowk iffy bu this is the start of my blog revampp 💓💓

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the-clock-of-the-time-dragon · 8 days ago

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[Wicked: For Good speculation/predictions]

[obviously spoilers + wild conjecture + musings]

Okay so I have many thoughts about what we might get in the second film, and decided to put them all in one place; so here we are.

1.) I've heard a lot of people mentioning that the movie might choose not to jump straight into Thank Goodness, and instead opt for some sort of buffer opening to establish the time-skip and whatnot. I think it would be amazing to actually see Elphaba flying around Oz saving Animals and being harbored as a fugitive and stuff; maybe we could even get reintroduced to Brrr briefly! He's obviously able to speak, so maybe that implies Fiyero took him to an Animal resistance group or something for safety? The map of Oz shown in Something Bad does imply that there might be such groups around, plus of course Doctor Dillamond mentioning protests. Maybe we'll get to see some of that on-screen; I think that would be fascinating. Maybe as kind of a soft adaptation of Elphaba's domestic terrorist phase in the book. This is possibly all supported as well by the shots we've seen of the Yellow Brick Road under construction; presumably this will be early in the film, since obviously it must predate Dorothy's arrival, so I suspect these might be the opening scenes before we get to see how Oz is reacting to Elphaba's activities at the start of Thank Goodness.

2.) I suspect we'll find out that Madame Morrible is not only the one who brought Dorothy to Oz, but also the Wizard — and maybe even more interestingly, caused the Great Drought (which I think is quite heavily implied to be the Dust Bowl, based on the time period and a scrawling on one of the chalkboards in the background; which I think is meant to be Dillamond's research). (My current headcanon is that Morrible accidentally caused the formation of the Impassable Desert (since it is also mentioned on the same chalkboard), which caused a ripple effect out into Kansas and started the Dust Bowl.) If we do get more background on Morrible and her earlier magic experimentation (and maybe even the Grimmerie), I suspect we'll learn that her heart's desire was always to be the prophesied magical savior of Oz, and the Grimmerie based on those vibes (since it seems to read the hearts of the ones using it and flip to pages that will give them what they want, like how it heard "birds" and went straight to relevant pages) brought the Wizard (and by extension, Elphaba) and Dorothy into Oz. In a way it feels like the Grimmerie is sort of the dark magical inverse of what the Wizard does: they hear the desires of people's hearts, and "grant" it in a deceptive way. The Wizard "grants" wishes through bullshitery and spectacle (and the people who come to him for help always end up having to get what they wanted themselves), while the Grimmerie "grants" wishes using real magic (and so can actually give things that the wisher didn't already possess) but always in a fucked up way that they'll end up regretting. I've already made a post about the theme of "the heart's desire" and how it's explored in the original Wizard of Oz and in Wicked — and maybe at some point I'll do a longer analysis of that (for instance, the fact the Wizard was in possession of the book and got his heart's desire to be a father in the most catastrophic way imaginable) — but it's really interesting if we consider that Morrible's desire seems to be to essentially be the Witch of Oz, and the answer given by the Grimmerie might basically have been the giant magical backfire that brought all three of the most plot-important characters into Oz in the first place. It's possible this won't actually be explained and will remain in headcanon territory, but with the way they've been focusing more on Madame Morrible I think we'll probably get at least a little something exploring her background and connections with the Wizard (and it would be really interesting if we got more stuff relating to the Grimmerie in the process).

3.) In the frames we've seen of Dorothy, the slippers are still silver! Not ruby! We know from interviews that the production team read the original Wonderful Wizard of Oz and took heavy inspiration from it, so I assume keeping the shoes silver was an executive decision on their part. But it has some really interesting implications about what sort of changes might've been made to Part 2. We already knew that we're getting major alterations to Nessa's narrative — groundwork for that was already laid in the ways they changed her in the first movie, particularly surrounding her relationship to Elphaba and her agency regarding movement, which I think is great — but regarding this I've heard some people asking if this means we might not get Nessarose standing. Marissa Bode who plays her is capable of limited standing and walking, so I doubt that part will have been cut entirely; but I'm really curious about the ways in which Nessa's story might have been rewritten. The point of her independence has been emphasized a lot thus far, so I think we might get some tweaking (or outright cutting) of the "hideous chair with wheels" bit; and with how we got the lines about Nessa wanting to make a new start and Elphaba getting in the way of that, I think it's likely we'll get less of a focus on "why haven't you used your powers to help me walk Elphaba?" and more on "wow, you ruined my life again Elphaba". I am curious about whether Nessa will still be able to read the Grimmerie (which always felt a little like a plot hole/contrivance in the original show, so it would need a proper explanation at the very least), or if perhaps — since I believe it's being set up that the Grimmerie can "read" people around it and give them a fucked up version of what they think they want — Nessarose's dark desire at that moment is to not have a heart (kinda like that line from the 1939 movie: "As for you, my galvanized friend: you want a heart. You don't know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable") and gets Elphaba to read it: but neither knows what it will actually do until Boq's heart starts shrinking away into nothingness. (Also I'm fairly positive that the still we got of Elphaba below is from the Colwen Grounds scene with Nessa and Boq: I've heard some people presuming it's from No Good Deed, but the background, her expression (which seems to me to be obviously her trying to get Nessa/Boq to calm tf down), and the fact she seems to be in the same costume as in the Yellow Brick Road scene, tells me it's almost certainly from Wicked Witch of the East.)

4.) We're told to expect two new songs from Stephen Schwartz! I'm extremely curious what these might be (and naturally, Gelphie simp as I am, would like at least one one of them to have some more good ol' gay goodness from our girls), but we don't have a whole lot to go on for clues yet other than (as far as I can tell, unconfirmed?) reports that one is an Elphaba solo and the other is a Glinda solo. This is very exciting of course, but until we have more insight it's still too early to make deep predictions. Although as for hopes, I'd obviously like for a new Glinda number to involve her grappling with her feelings more — a much-needed addition — and for Elphaba to perhaps get some of that as well (it would help the lead-up to Wonderful make a bit more narrative sense, if nothing else). And if it turns out they aren't Glinda or Elphaba songs, then I think Fiyero or Boq deserve to get a little bit more to sing. All Schwartz has said thus far is that the new music was made to meet the needs of the story: so (since the two songs DON'T seem to just be reworkings of existing ones, and are actually all-new, film-only material) that further supports the fact we'll be getting fairly major changes to the plot.

5.) The Glinda-Fiyero wedding seems to either happen or very nearly happen??? Extremely interesting expansion on the original material, I can't wait to see what they do with it. I've heard some people saying it might just be a fantasy sequence or something — and I suppose it could be — but I don't think so; the style of filmmaking and writing is deliberately "grounded" to make Oz feel real, and the first film didn't have any imaginary scenes. I think the wedding scene will happen at the same time as (or directly before) Wonderful, and will probably be interrupted: maybe by the release of the flying monkeys, the Wizard rallying the guards after Elphaba, or — scandal! — even by Elphaba herself! (No, I don't think we'll be getting the "I object!" sequence out of Shrek, even though it would be hilariously apropos, lol.) We've seen an image of what looks like Elphaba back in the Emerald City (maybe right before Wonderful, perhaps sneaking into the Wizard's palace to free the Animals; or perhaps just after Wonderful, after finding Doctor Dillamond and deciding to remain the Wizard's enemy?), and judging by when these events would have to line up based on the story of the musical, I think these are almost certainly within the same section. It seems like the wedding sequence might be a decent spot for some of the new music: or maybe a beefed-up version of Glinda's I'm Not That Girl, if she got left at the altar or something.

6.) We've seen this image of Glinda running up a staircase (with the Grimmerie in hand, and in her Bubble Dress): this seems very likely to be immediately after For Good and the Melting — I suspect Glinda is heading up the stairs to see the aftermath, recover Elphie's hat, and receive the green bottle from Chistery. OR, it could also be related to the Wizard — the wood reminds me of the tower in the Emerald City palace where all of Oscar Diggs' old stuff from Omaha was stored at the end of the first film, so I'm wondering if this is Glinda going up to confront him after realizing that he's Elphaba's father, maybe.

EDIT: I realized after reviewing a better quality image with higher contrast and saturation that the latter possibility I suggested is more likely than the former — behind the wooden beams are the emerald blocks we see in the Wizard's palace, so this frame seems almost certainly to be from the scene where Glinda confronts the Wizard in his tower after returning from Kiamo Ko. And what a brilliant way to do that scene, if indeed that's what this is: the Wizard isn't just sitting despondent in his throne room, he went up to wallow in his old mediocrity — and Glinda doesn't just fly up to him, she ascends the same path she once went up with Elphie, processing her grief the whole way up. The painnnnnnn. It makes her ordering him to fly away in the same balloon that he arrived in — and that Glinda and Elphaba NEARLY escaped in before everything — all the more bitter and ironic. Can't wait to see Jeff Goldblum sell the Wizard's descent into the mother of all midlife crises, fiddling with his old sideshow props in the attic as he comes to know the true despair wrought by his hand.

7.) Will the ending be changed?? It seems all but confirmed that the cloaked figure riding away out of Kiamo Ko at the start of Part 1 was Elphaba: this costume concept for the second film looks identical to what we saw the rider wearing. Add to that (as I've talked about in a prior post) the fact the Scarecrow is shown alongside Dorothy on the Yellow Brick Road, implies that at the very least the events of the last few minutes of the musical have been revised. My earlier post listed four different possible alterations (from Elphaba leaving Oz alone, to her still meeting with Fiyero somewhere else after everything, to her somehow letting Glinda and/or Fiyero know she's alive before leaving, or (hope against hope) that she takes Glinda with her), but it's still far too early to tell what they might've gone with. I just hope that at least wrote it better than it was originally. The image of Elphaba riding out of Oz on horseback across the desert would certainly be striking, no matter which option they chose.

#gelphie #wicked #elphaba thropp #glinda upland #glinda x elphaba #elphaba #wicked movie #elphaba x glinda #glinda #wicked part 2 #wicked for good

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hexefreya · 29 days ago

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I don't think that we appreciate Viktor's plan enough. It is my firm belief that not only did he want to erase Hexcore and himself from existence, but also do some good in the process.

It was established that Hexcore found a way to corrupt the very water, spreading like a disease and infecting the environment. What this means is that by simply killing Viktor Hexcore problem wouldn't be resolved as wild rune remains and will lead to catastrophic consequences in the long run. Only Viktor himself could defeat Hexcore by consciously making the choice to destroy it. And Jayce was the only one who could make this outcome happen - he very well knew about it and the power he had, armed with Viktor's own feelings.

So the question remains: why did Jayce wait till the very last possible moment to show Viktor the power of love? He didn't try to earnestly talk to him even once, and always looked like a person set on a mission throughout. He also seemed to know the outcome of some encounters beforehand.

For instance, when Viktor is entering Hex vault? Jayce isn't even trying to attack Viktor here or be on a defensive, as if confident Viktor would do nothing and just walk by.

And of course this scene, where Jayce kneels by his weapon and closes his eyes, resigned for what is about to happen.

It is my opinion that Jayce had a pretty good understanding of the future events and his role in it, which leads me to believe that the severe escalation of Viktor's evolution, leading to the final fight, was necessary.

I honestly feel like animators did an amazing job showing how incredibly hard it was for Jayce to straight up crush Viktor time and time again, especially when knew about Viktor's feelings and realised himself that those were reciprocated. Can you imagine the pain Jayce must have felt? Killing the person he loved, warping them into something monstrous and even then, at his worst, Viktor was anything but indifferent to Jayce, and him alone.

But if it weren't for Jayce shooting Viktor the first time, literally breaking his heart, Viktor wouldn't lose his faith in humanity (Jayce) and agree to move on with Singed's procedure. It was stated that his power was finite, so I would speculate that Jayce didn't even try to persuade Viktor because he knew that even if he succeeded either Savior Viktor didn't possess enough power to stop Hexcore, or it was straight impossible without Ekko's anomaly. Hexcore would remain in the world any other way, therefore it was necessary to trigger Viktor's evolution to the Machine Herald form.

It also explains why Jace yet again isn't trying to convince Viktor in the Council room encounter afterwards, despite having Viktor coming forward, wanting to talk and bearing news of the hostile intentions of the Noxian. This is interesting, because in my opinion the most significant detail here is Viktor's reluctance to "evolve" Jayce to the point he'd rather kill him. And we know that for the Mage Viktor's plan to work Jayce has to be connected to Hexcore. That's why there is no attempt at talking at this point. Even if Viktor were to concede this very second and destroy Hexcore, it would still leave completely disorganized Piltover and Zaun facing oppressing Noxian forces. It is only after Jayce rejects and "kills" him once again that Viktor lashes out and completes his evolution. And as a result, it gives a perfect common enemy to unite forces against, which finally brings Piltover and Zaun together.

We shouldn't forget how everything started, how Viktor shared Jayce's idealistic dream and passion to bring magic to people and improve lives. Sure, ironically they got caught in a paradoxical anomaly that was dooming the world instead.

"In the pursuit of great, we failed to do good".

Viktor had achieved the end of pursuit and regretted it. Eventually he came to terms with the fact he's the only one who can effectively destroy hexcore, consciously chosing to erase it and himself from existence. And I refuse to think he is anything but pedantic about it, the scientists that he is. He knows what exactly must transpire, and he has the hindsight of different timelines and possibilities to organize the best of possible outcomes, the one that maximizes good this time.

#arcane #jayvik #viktor #arcane season 2 #arcane spoilers #arcane viktor #arcane meta #arcane theory #jayce arcane #jayce talis #arcane thoughts #arcane take #my thoughts

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moonxknightx · 4 months ago

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : FINDING SOLACE : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Worst!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Angst and fluff

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Mentions of alcohol use, themes of grief and guilt, references to losses and past violence. (Takes place after Deadpool and Wolverine)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You find Logan drinking alone in Wade’s apartment, burdened by guilt over his past. Offering comfort, you help him find a moment of peace, reminding him he’s not alone in his pain.

THE SUN HAD ALREADY GONE DOWN WHEN YOU FINISHED WORK, exhaustion settling in your bones. The walk home was a familiar one, the chilly evening air biting gently at your cheeks as you approached your apartment building. As you neared the door, you noticed the light on in Wade’s place.

Curious, you decided to check in on him. Wade was known for his unpredictability, and it wasn’t unusual for him to be up to something insane. You and Wade had become good friends over the years—neighbors turned best pals through shared movie nights, endless banter, and the occasional assistance with whatever madcap adventure Wade was embroiled in. Sometimes, you were the one thing that kept him grounded.

You entered his apartment without knocking—a habit both of you had grown accustomed to. But the sight that greeted you was far from the chaos you usually associated with Wade’s place.

Sitting alone on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in hand, was a man you had only seen a few times before—Logan Howlett. His rugged features were etched with an expression that was a mix of sorrow, guilt, and something far darker. He didn’t even flinch as you walked in, seemingly lost in the depths of his own torment.

“Logan?” you called softly, closing the door behind you.

His eyes, usually so sharp and dangerous, were now clouded, staring blankly at the floor. He looked up at the sound of your voice, a flicker of recognition passing through his gaze.

“Wade’s not here,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, drained of the usual gruff confidence. “Gone off on some wild goose chase. Dunno when he’ll be back.”

You nodded, taking in the scene—the empty bottles scattered around, the stillness in the air, and the heavy weight of something unspoken hanging between you two.

“Mind if I sit?” you asked gently, gesturing to the space beside him on the couch.

Logan shrugged, a noncommittal gesture, and you took that as permission. You settled down beside him, the scent of whiskey and something distinctly wild filling your senses. For a few moments, neither of you spoke, the silence comfortable yet charged with a tension you couldn’t quite place.

“Rough day?” you finally asked, keeping your tone light but laced with concern.

Logan let out a humorless chuckle, the sound brittle and broken. “You could say that.”

You didn’t press him, knowing instinctively that Logan wasn’t the type to spill his heart easily. Instead, you waited, offering your presence as a silent comfort, letting him take the lead if he wanted to.

Minutes passed before he finally spoke again, his voice low, almost a whisper. “I wasn’t there when they needed me. My team… the people I cared about. I wasn’t there. And because of that… they’re all gone.”

Your heart clenched at the pain in his voice, the raw vulnerability that he was so clearly unused to showing. Without thinking, you reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. The touch seemed to ground him, his gaze shifting to meet yours, and you saw the depths of his anguish reflected in those dark, weary eyes.

“You couldn’t have known,” you said softly, your thumb brushing gently over the fabric of his jacket. “You can’t blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

Logan shook his head, his jaw clenched tight. “But I should have been there. I could have stopped it. Instead… I went on a rampage. Killed so many people because I couldn’t deal with what I’d done—or hadn’t done.”

His admission hung in the air, heavy and full of regret. The man beside you, who had always seemed indestructible, now looked utterly broken. You had heard stories about Logan’s past, about the violence and the bloodshed, but seeing him like this—vulnerable, hurting—was something else entirely.

“Logan,” you murmured, your voice soft and full of compassion. “You’ve been carrying this guilt around with you for too long. But you don’t have to do it alone. You’ve got people who care about you, who want to help you. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself.”

His eyes searched yours, as if trying to find something to hold onto, something to pull him out of the darkness he was drowning in. And maybe, just maybe, he found it in the sincerity of your gaze, in the warmth of your touch.

Without a word, Logan leaned into you, his head resting against your shoulder. You felt the tension slowly drain from his body as you wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough for him to know that he wasn’t alone, that someone cared.

The two of you sat there in silence, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside and the occasional clink of the whiskey bottle as Logan absentmindedly set it on the table. The weight of his past still hung between you, but it was a little lighter now, shared between two souls instead of one.

“Thank you,” Logan whispered after a long while, his voice thick with emotion. “For… being here.”

You smiled gently, resting your head against his. “Anytime, Logan. Anytime.”

And in that moment, as the night stretched on and the world outside continued to spin, Logan allowed himself to let go of just a little of his burden, finding solace in the quiet presence of someone who cared.

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