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fatherbrat · 1 day ago

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cw. prequel to this. college au hockey player!sukuna. fatherbrat’s 2nd hugh hefner costume mention. reader is drunk. crack-esque. sfw, 1.3k words.

the first time you meet sukuna is at a halloween party.

(it’s technically your halloween party. it isn’t your house or anything, but the boys that live there are happy to let you host as long as it means a house full of girls and none of the responsibility of setting up. you're happy to fulfill their requests, since it means you can have things go your way and then dip at the end of the night, leaving the post-party cleaning up to them.)

needless to say, you and sukuna do not make good first impressions. you would blame the alcohol, but honestly, it wouldn’t have gone any different if you were sober.

he arrives at the party in a group. you recognize one of them—the tall, smiley one with impossibly white hair who sits behind you in biochem. he’s dressed up like a character from an snl skit, clad in an ill-fitting suit and round sunglasses with a present box glued to his pelvis.

you don’t recognize the one who comes in behind him, but he’s sexy and tanned and has a mustache. he’s also wearing the same costume as the white-haired one. gojo, you remember. isn’t he on the hockey team?

you immediately pull out your phone, searching up the school’s official instagram page for the hockey team. there they are, front and center in the most recent post. the third guy with them—the one with black hair and the scar that runs through his lip—is in the picture too. he’s wearing a batman costume now, half-assed but recognizable enough. at least he has on the mask.

you squint at the last man in the group and frown. your gaze drops back down to your phone.

in the second row of photos is a carousel full of pictures of this pink-haired brute. sukuna, the apparent team captain. his personal account is tagged, but it seems too professional to you, public and polished to perfection for recruiters.

anyways. he’s here. at your halloween party. wearing an outfit you deem completely unacceptable.

you down the rest of your (sixth) drink and toss the empty can onto the kitchen counter before making your way towards the group of men, wobbly as ever.

gojo is the first one to notice you. “hey,” he beams, “cool party.” he puts his arm around the guy with the mustache—shiu—and wiggles his eyebrows. “you like our costumes?”

you ignore him, something you wouldn’t do sober, but you’re on a mission.

you point at sukuna, jabbing your nail into his chest. “where the fuck is your costume?”

sukuna glances down at your finger, then your costume, then your face. “you don’t see the jersey? i’m a fuckin’ hockey player.”

you pull back your hand, disgusted. “first of all, drop the attitude, mister. second of all, that’s not a costume. you’re on the hockey team.”

someone snickers. the one dressed as batman, you think, but you don’t turn around to check. sukuna’s face morphs through a few different emotions—amusement, annoyance, astonishment. he eventually settles on agitation, pissed that he hasn’t even gotten the chance to get some liquor in his system before dealing with bullshit like this.

“you wanna talk about costumes? you’re wearing underwear and a robe,” he says, gesturing towards you with a dismissive wave.

you gasp and plant your hands on your hips. “this isn’t just underwear, idiot. it’s lingerie. i’m wearing a garter belt, for fuck’s sake. and thigh highs! plus you forgot about my hat?”

you use your entire arm to point at gojo. “who am i dressed as, dick-in-a-box boy?”

his face is flushed from laugher. “sexy hugh hefner. obviously.”

you throw your arm up in the air and let it fall against your thigh with a smack, not noticing the murderous glare sukuna sends towards gojo. someone somewhere turns down the music a bit.

“see!” you exclaim, addressing sukuna once again. “this is clearly a Sexy Costume™. and you know what else makes it a costume? i would never just leave my house like this on a typical day. it’s not a regular outfit in the slightest.” you speak slowly, wanting to make sure he understands every word.

“you wanna know what makes this Not a costume?” you continue, still talking slow as you wag your finger up and down sukuna’s body. “it’s a regular-degular outfit. literally anyone can put on that campus store-bought jersey and wear it with those jeans on a normal day.”

sukuna starts to speak, but you cut him off. “didn't you see the sign out front? ‘no costume, no entry.’”

his jaw ticks. his right eye twitches. “yeah, i saw the fucking sign. i don’t-”

“oh, great,” you interrupt. “so you don’t know what a costume is and you can’t read. perfect. that hockey scholarship must be doing a lot of heavy lifting, huh?”

even in your inebriated state, you immediately know that was the wrong thing to say. the little crowd that gathered to watch your back-and-forth takes a collective inhale. sukuna looks downright irate, fists clenched at his sides as a storminess settles over his face.

gojo lets out a long and low whistle, the kind that cartoon bombs make right before they hit the ground and explode. he pats your shoulder twice before abandoning you altogether. the rest of the crowd follows, leaving you to contend with this bear you repeatedly poked.

the music returns to its original volume, but it sounds like the speaker has been moved. away from you and closer to the living room.

maybe it’s the alcohol in your system, but you swear you can see literal steam coming out of sukuna’s ears. you sway on your feet a bit, waiting for him to say something. a thought occurs to you as you watch him pinch the bridge of his nose and breathe deeply, but you keep it to yourself, screwing up your lips in a physical attempt to keep from digging your grave further.

sukuna didn’t even want to come to this party in the first place. he actually mentioned the sign out front to the guys before they came in, trying to use it as an excuse for him to go home. his plan was to make an appearance, drink a beer, and then escape after thirty minutes. but here you are, this drunk stranger yelling at him for being dressed like a normal fucking person. the urge to stay strikes him. he wants to linger just to piss you off.

“are you done?” he asks you.

you cross your arms. “are you leaving?”

“no.”

“then no.”

just as you’re about to dig into him again, sukuna’s thinning patience snaps.

“stop being a fucking bitch about this, alright? just relax. you’re acting fucking crazy.”

your jaw unhinges itself and you stand there, gawking. sukuna seems about ready to walk away, cracking his knuckles and looking somewhere behind you. your eyes land on his cheek, reddened and ready for a smack. you draw your arm back, wanting to make sure you gave him a slap that stings—and he catches it mid-air.

“are you serious?” he scoffs. you glance at your hand, his fingers around your wrist, the scowl etched into his face.

he glowers at you, not letting go when you try to shake your arm free. so you do the next logical thing.

you spit on him.

a glob of your saliva lands just below his eye. you smirk, satisfied. he drops your arm and curses, lifting the bottom of his jersey to wipe his face. then you make your first smart decision of the night and turn around, running back to where the rest of the party is to hide amongst the bodies.

he yells after you, but it’s drowned out by your giggles and the sound of chatter as you get nearer, bumping into countertops and side tables on the way.

someone pats your back and puts a drink in your hand. you pray you never have to see the captain of the hockey team again.

tags. @nonamevenus @lavenderdaydream97 @rinofcike @gdamnackerman

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #fatherbrat ♱ library #jjk #sukuna

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choso-is-bbg · 2 days ago

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𝐁𝐎𝐎!

results based on this poll. headcanons of the jjk men scaring you and how you react. fem!reader x male jjk characters. warnings: just mediocre writing and bad spelling and grammar errors, please ignore. wc: 1.5k. comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated

★𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

this man was a menace. he would find any possible way to annoy you ,just to please himself. tickling you when you least expect it, tripping you on the floor and then catching you, making fun of you when you stutter... all for his amusement.

but today... today was different. he wanted to try a new method. something he's never done to you intentionally.

the setting was perfect. it was a nice normal day, you were doing the laundry and he was left in the living room alone watching television. he was getting bored and he was missing you dearly, and then it came to his mind.

he silently walked over to where you were where you were unloading the now clean laundry into the laundry basket looking so focused he thought it was cute.

he tiptoed behind you and when you get up, his smile growing wider and then "BOO!!", he shouted getting a hold of your waist.

You shrieked loudly and he laughed loudly, tears now brimming his eyes. " WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!?", you shouted at him you hand now on your fast beating heart.

"nothing. i just missed you"

★𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

your geto was nothing but a chill person to hang around with. you enjoyed the silent moments you shared and the meaningful convos you shared. but that didn't mean that he didn't have his moments of stupidity.

he had this thing where he liked to put you on edge just because. you never understood why he did this and today was no different.

you were walking around his estate when suddenly you heard some kids screaming outside. you quickly ran outside to find suguru standing and looking at the sky.

"oh hey baby. what are you doing outside?", he asked smiling at you upon noticing your presence. you looked up and saw mimiko and nanako screaming with joy on top of one of suguru's curses... high up in the sky.

" GET THEM DOWN NOW!!", he chuckled at that

"don't worry. they're enjoying themselves", he said looking up at them both.

"GET THEM DOWN NOW SUGURU!!"

"alright", he said and the curse came down with the two girls on it laughing and giggling. you ran up to them and hugged them.

"don't go on that thing again, do you hear me?"

"but it's fun-"

"NO! let's go inside. i'll deal with YOU later", maybe scaring you wasn't such a good idea.

★𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

he was relatively knew to relationships and so he desperately needed advice. and should he go to if not his trusted younger brother yuuji.

which was always a horrible mistake. because he himself got dating advice from teen magazines and not from actual experience so the things choso did for you were not ordinary but you thought that the fact that he was thinking about you was cute in it's own way.

one day, you were washing the dishes while choso was in the living room chatting with his brothers. he was asking yuuji again how he can be more affectionate towards you. he finally got his answer and wanted to test it out, so he went to you heart pounding in his chest as he watched you focused on the dishes and humming a tune.

" just hug her from the back. girls like that", he recollected yuuji's words and he took in a deep breathe. he was walking towards you silently and then suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist.

you gasped and dropped the fork which also startled him and he quickly let go.

"you startled me cho", you said smiling and he looked down blushing.

" i didn't mean to. i just wanted to give you a back hug because i thought you'd like it", he explained and your heart clenched at how thoughtful he was.

"it's alright cho. just make sure make some noise or else you'll startles me again"you said and hugged him and he hugged you back. " and stop listening to yuuji so much. his case is just as bad as yours

★𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

you were always fascinated by the toji's job which was weird to him. normally, people would be afraid, but once he revealed to you what he truly does for a living, you seemed to be a lot more interested.

and with that interest, you wanted to know how exactly he does it. how does he handle his victims. does he torture then before he kills them or does he just go straight to the point? you needed to know. and that led to you constantly bombarding him with questions upon questions, but he didn't want to answer you.

for the longest time, he has ignored your constant nagging but today, it has reached it's peak. the breaking point.

" please"

"no"

"please"

"no princess. i've told you before. i'm not telling you"

"pretty please~", you whined longer tugging onto his arm repeatedly and he cracked.

" fine do you wanna know", you nodded quickly and he sighed.

"one time, i ripped out this guys arm off and then shot him 67 times. another time, i tied the guy to a chair then chopped off his fingers one by one just to get information from him. turns out he was the wrong guy", he chuckled. " another one-"

"no...enough", you placed your hand over his mouth and he looked at you with a raised eyebrow. you felt your stomach sinking deeper

"what's the matter? I thought you wanted to know", he smirked after he took your hand away from his face.

"not anymore", you said now sitting with your legs together.

"be careful of what you ask for next time princess..."

★𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami's job was quite demanding and that was why he would always come home late almost every night without fail. the latest he ever came home was around 11pm and he would always find you waiting for him with a meal already prepared and you kept him company until his last mouthful just to spend the time you missed with him.

he always tried his best to come back home early but he almost always has to work early. you both hated it but he had to work for the both of you...so that he can retire early and spend the rest of his days with you.

but today, he was getting late... extremely late. you called him countless times and he didn't answer any of your calls. you sent a bunch of text messages asking for his whereabouts but none of them were answered, even read.

you were starting to get very worried. it was almost 1am, you were extremely tired as it is but you had to wait for him. terrible thoughts invaded your mind. what if he had gotten into something serious? your mind circled around many awful scenarios of him and then just the, the front door opened.

"honey i'm home...", he said in a tired voice and you quickly ran over to him and gave him a big hug. " sweetie, i missed you too"

"where were you?", you asked now a little worried.

"i'm sorry dear. i was held up at work and i couldn't come any earlier", he said caressing your face.

" why didn't you answer my calls or my texts? "

"my phone died"

"don't do that ever again!", you said and hugged him again.

" i wont honey. i'll take a day off just for you and we can do whatever you want", you hugged him tighter and he caressed your back.

"as long as we get to be together, I don't care what we do"

★𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

for someone who was so big, sukuna was a quiet man- or uh-curse. you would barely notice him walking around and he scared you many times because of this. he had no reason to be so quiet and he would always look at you funny whenever you get scared.

but on this day, he had reached a whole new level. you were in his chambers, on his bed specifically, as you cuddled each other enjoying the silence.

your one hand was caressing his abs while his lower arms held you closer and the others played with your hair. everything was alright until you felt something wet and slimy on your hand, the same hand that was on his stomach. you looked and there you saw it, a large tongue protruding out of his stomach and was licking your hand.

"WHAT IS THAT?", you quickly withdrew your hand from him and he clicked his tongue.

" what's your problem? never seen a tongue before?"

"not coming out of a stomach!", you said and he narrowed his eyes at you

" you're so dramatic", he said sitting up and then out of nowhere licked your entire face with his stomach tongue and you shrieked. "relax woman", he said wiping your face with his hand and then the palm of his hand licked your cheek and before you knew it you were out. he chuckled and just held you closer.

"such a weakling..."

story belongs to @choso-is-bbg. characters belong to gege akutami

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feedmegreenthings · 1 day ago

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An actual good apology:

Acknowledge what you did.

Acknowledge the effect it had.

Acknowledge the other person's feelings.

Say sorry.

BONUS: state how you'll avoid doing it again in the future. But only do this if you are actually going to put in the effort. Empty promises do not am apology make.

Examples:

I'm sorry I left the dirty dishes in the sink for two days. I know you asked me to put them in the dishwasher, and instead I let them pile up and get more gross, and this stressed you out because you felt like you had to clean up after me. I'll start putting them in the dishwasher instead of the sink so I'm not tempted to leave them.

I'm sorry I told that story at the party. I didn't realize it would embarrass you. Next time, I'll stick to telling stories about my own shenanigans, or things you've explicitly said I can tell our friends about.

Sure, you know how to self-flagellate, but do you know how to apologize? Saying "I'm a stupid idiot" is not the same thing as saying "I did something wrong."

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 hours ago

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Different: Christmas

Katie McCabe x Teen!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Clover

"Coopurr...Coopurr, man, knock it off!"

Your mum's cat continues to try to attack your feet under the safe covers of your bed.

"Coopurr! Come on!"

"You can just kick him off the bed," Your aunt Ella says from the doorway and you finally sit up in bed.

"I can't because he's the only sane person in this house! Do you know what it's like leaving with you two?"

"Amazing?"

Your mother pops her head through the door. "The most perfect thing in the world?"

You let out a bark of laughter. "You wish."

Katie winks. "I don't have to wish for something that's already true."

"The most perfect thing in the world is you leaving me here for Christmas."

It's Katie's turn to laugh now, pulling down your blankets and allowing Coopurr to bat at your now exposed toes.

"No chance," She says," Come on, up! We've got the flight back home this evening."

"Just leave me here to rot!" You say dramatically and Katie laughs again.

"You know, if you're here alone then you have to cook for yourself," She points and you sigh, finally sitting up in bed and scooping Coopurr into your arms.

"Fine," You say," But don't think I'll be happy about it."

"You're never happy about anything."

"Kim'll tell you that it's because I'm a teenager."

Katie cracks a smile. "You know what? Kim's onto something."

You roll your eyes as you get out of bed as Katie's eyes narrow.

"You haven't even started packing yet, have you?"

"I was still banking on us staying here."

Katie plucks Coopurr from your arms with an eye roll, trying to push you along with her foot. "Go and pack. And make sure to bring lots of jumpers! You know my parents don't like turning on the heating in Winter!"

You rolls your eyes as you go rummaging around in your wardrobe for your suitcase.

It's not like you don't enjoy going back to Ireland. On the contrary, you love going back to Ireland. You just didn't enjoy how big of a family you have.

Certain members of the family seemed to delight in reminding you that you weren't actually Katie's daughter. It didn't seem to matter to them that Katie had been a mother figure to you all your life. It didn't seem to matter to them that you barely even remembered your biological parents.

All that seemed to matter to them was pointing out that you were technically, biologically, Katie's little cousin.

You stuff whatever's clean and visible into your suitcase with little regard to what clothes you're actually packing before practically throwing the suitcase down the stairs.

"Stop trying to break stuff!" Katie yells.

"Ella's the one that broke the hallway table!" You yell back with a laugh," She came in drunk and fell over it!"

Ella gasps in horror from her room. "You said that you wouldn't tell her that!"

"And you said you would get me ice cream. But here I am...Ice creamless!"

You don't actually get your ice cream, even at the airport when you very pointedly show a selection of ice creams to Ella and she promptly ignores you.

Pulling up to your grandparents' house has always been a bit daunting to you. Before Katie adopted you, you lived in that house too, once upon a time.

Now though, it feels you with trepidation.

Most of the family is probably already there and you just know you're going to have to end up sharing a room with more people than just Katie.

You're right, of course, when a few other aunts and uncles arrive. Katie's aunts and uncles, of course, but also kind of yours. But you'd never really considered them that.

They were related to your biological parents and, again, you barely remembered them. You'd grown up with Katie as your maternal role model so it made sense to you as you got older that her siblings ended up filling the roles of aunts and uncles to you.

"You feeling okay?" Katie asks, hand gently covering yours as you sit on the squished sofa and pick at the Christmas Eve meal that her mother made for everyone.

"I...Yeah, I just..." You look up at one of the older men in the room, the one that always insisted on calling you anything but Katie's daughter. "I'm just going to the toilet."

"You feel sick?" Katie sits up properly, eyes narrowed as they flick over your face, searching for a flush or anything that shows you're feeling under the weather.

"No! No...I...I just need a bit of a breather, you know?"

"Yeah, kind of overwhelming around here, huh?"

"Yeah...I'm just gonna..."

"Yeah, you go ahead."

The mirror in the bathroom clearly hasn't been cleaned in a while, covered in little water droplets but you don't really mind as you splash your face with water a few times and stare at yourself, gripping the sides of the sink in a white knuckle grip.

It takes you a while to psych yourself up, enough time that you're pretty sure dinner has been finished and people have moved onto dessert.

It's usually loud in the McCabe household and on Christmas Eve, it's no different.

Lots of people fighting over the remote and someone singing a horrific Christmas carol and someone else lecturing someone on the correct way to cook a turkey even though everyone knows that no matter how a turkey is cooked, it always comes out dry.

But this yelling is different and you definitely recognise the voice of one of the people yelling.

"Get your bag!" Katie yells, finally spotting you lingering in the doorway.

"Wh-What?"

"Your bag!" Katie snaps before sighing and softening her voice," Can you go upstairs and grab our bags? Wait for me by the door."

You know better than to try and ask her things when she's like this so you leave to grab everything, coming down to catch the tailwind of her yelling.

"-She is my daughter and she will always be my daughter, no matter what any of you people think!"

"Katie-"

"No! I won't hear it! She's my daughter and I love her and it's none of your business anyway!"

"You can't just leave, it's Christmas tomorrow!"

"Yes! And I will be spending Christmas with my daughter! I don't care if it's just the two of us. If it has to be that way then it will!"

Katie looks surprisingly calm when she joins you at the front door.

"I don't think we'll get a flight at this hour," She says," But I reckon we could still catch the ferry and then we'll take a cab back home, sound good?"

You smile at her. "I might have accidentally left your present at home anyway."

She laughs. "That's 'cause you're psychic. You knew we were spending Christmas at home this year."

#woso x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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boredpotate · 2 days ago

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Happier Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any music I link. I only own the concept for this story.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but has unforeseen consequences.

Powder Pov

"You really are a little artist. You like your new addition to your army kiddo?" I ask Isha as she colors another toy that Ekko made for her. She nods her head rapidly, not breaking her focus on coloring the toy robot while wearing a smile on her face.

"Good to know you like it." Ekko says, sitting on the other side of Isha, keeping the kid between us, before reaching to wipe some food off of her face.

It's been a few days since that operation happened; five days to be precise. After things calmed down for everyone, Vi and Cait went more into detail about what happened in those mines before leaving to check on how the others were doing, and then report their findings. Apparently some old rich guy from Piltover was running the gang and they were using orphans to work in the mines.

"Did she finish her food?" Dad asks as he walks over our table, making Isha pick up and present her empty plate to Dad, "Good job kid. Looks like you're getting your appetite back." he says as he pats her head which makes Isha giggle before going back to her coloring.

After all the kids from the mines were checked on by doctors, we decided to take Isha with us back home and dressed her since Y/n seemed to really care for her.

'Y/n.'

Their name echoes in my head again. I recall her lying down on the table again. Coming back with uncle's medicine to see a more clear view of her injuries with her clothes cut open. Watching as fragments were removed from the surface level of her body. I didn't get to see much more after Professor Heimerdinger arrived, but just by the look on his face before Ekko and I stepped out of the room, I was able to tell it wasn't good. Even when that Viktor guy arrived, it didn't help ease my nerves.

She had some close calls when it came to some deeper wounds in her back, but they would heal with time. The worse was her leg. They said she may recover, but if she woke up she wouldn't be able to walk right for awhile. Cait offered to house her until then but..... that didn't feel right for some reason. Luckily dad suggested housing her in one of the guest rooms we have available since buying out the old building connecting to ours. It being a more familiar place for her to wake up than in a fancy place was his reasoning.

Uncle Silco and the professor pay visits to check on her condition and make sure her IV is working. We sometimes find Isha checking in on her too.

Speaking of Isha, she's been a bundle of joy for the place. Took time, but eventually when she started getting comfortable she started showing her kid self more. Doesn't cause trouble and if she does it's harmless stuff. Ekko and I have taken over the duty of watching over her; I can see why Y/n cares for her a lot. Only took a few days for me to grow attached to her, and it looks like the same goes for the others. She doesn't talk, but she's expressive enough to convey how she's feeling and actually knows some sign language. Can write too.

"Kid must feel lucky. She's got her own personal attack dog ready to go rabid for her." Benzo says as dad brings the plate behind the bar to clean.

"Tch. More like a reckless bodyguard. Ignored all the thugs in the area and just gave into impulses." Sevika says as she nurses her drink at the bar, sitting near Vi and Cait. All of them off duty.

"I wonder what that's like?," I say sarcastically as I glance at Vi and Cait. Cait giggles a little while Vi gives me slight glare before I look back to Isha, "Take my advice kid, and appreciate it while it lasts. Next thing you know she's gonna get all lovesick for a cutie and start stalking her." That get's a chuckle out of people that hears, since pretty much everyone knows how protective Vi is.

"C'mon Pow Pow, y'know I would do the same for you. AND. I did not become a lovesick stalker. Right, Cupcake?" Vi says and looks to Cait to back her up, but get's a skeptical look instead.

"Mmmm, it's not completely wrong." Cait says making Vi look betrayed and the rest of us smirk.

"What!?"

"Sweetie, did you really think I believed that you would "conveniently" run into me every time I went on patrol around Zaun?"

"......It wasn't every time." Vi says, defeated and slightly embarrassed making us all have more of a chuckle from it.

"I did find it cute though. You also made patrols less boring." Cait says with a kiss to her temple to cheer her up, which makes Vi immediately perk up. The scene makes me smile before turning to look at Ekko.

"Hey, I'm gonna go check on her real quick. Keep an eye on her?"

"Go ahead. I got her." Ekko says and I ruffle the girl's head as I stand up and make my way up a set of stairs.

The walk to her room isn't too far from the bar. We decided it would be best that she was close to check on and just in case she woke up with no one with her.

I open the door to see Y/n still lying down on the bed, not having moved a muscle, the light from a nearby window slightly shining on her. I walk to the side of the bed and go to check her IV to make sure nothings wrong and doesn't need to be switched out. Once that is done I turn to look down at her again, this time much closer, and I take a moment to look her over. I see some of the bandages wrapped over her shoulder and collar bone that sticks out from underneath the blanket and take a quick look under the blanket to make sure her wounds haven't opened up again.

Once I see that she's fine I find myself staying to watch her for a little. Usually I'd find this type of thing weird, especially since I hardly know her, but something about her makes me stay longer than needed. It's comforting. She eased the headaches Ekko and I have been having. At first I would just do a quick check up, but then I started staying longer to just watch her sleep. It wasn't just me either. Sometimes Ekko and I will just stay in here and talk while keeping an eye on her.

I take a glance at the door and listen if anyone is coming before sitting down on the side of the bed. It felt nice to be close to her. It felt.... right.

I slowly reach forward and brush aside a few strands of hair behind her ear and I hesitate before laying my hand gently against her cheek and jaw. After caring for her and keeping her clean there's no longer any smudge of dirt or smog on her face.

"Why do you make us feel this way? Why do those headaches go away when near you?" I whisper, knowing she can't hear me or respond. I get lost in my thoughts before noticing my thumb brushing against her cheek and quickly pull my hand away. Calling my strange behavior there, "What is wrong with me?"

I stand up and quickly go to leave, but I take one last long look at her before closing the door and heading back to the bar. Feeling guilty of my strange behavior that I know I should be stopping.

"Why do I not want it to stop?"

Reader Pov

I feel my senses start coming back to me from what feels like a long sleep. I go to open my eyes, but find them hard to open from a bright light. I raise an arm and try to sit myself up on the bed I am laying on and feel myself struggle slightly to do the simple task.

'Wait. A bed?,' I realize before quickly covering my eyes from the light and open them to see myself in an unfamiliar room. I then notice the unfamiliar large shirt I am wearing and lack of pants. I finally see the light that has been causing me trouble is the sun shining through a nearby window, there's what looks to be a leg brace leaning on the wall near the nightstand and I notice that I am connected to what looks like an IV before taking out the tube connected to my wrist, 'Where am I?'

I remember what happened before falling unconscious in Isha's arms. I slowly shift to the edge of the bed and go to stand up; finding myself struggling slightly with my legs feeling weak. One leg feeling very painful to put weight on, so I hold onto the IV stand for support and make my way towards the nearby window and look out after my eyes adjust to the light. I see the streets of Zaun with people going about their day and kids playing.

"Good morning!"

I jump in shock, instinctively reaching for my gun which isn't there, but calm down once I see Professor Heimerdinger.

"Oh, sorry for frightening you. It's good to see you awake. How do you feel?" he asks in his always joyous tone.

"Uh, yeah. Thank you, I feel fine. Some pain in my back, but mostly my leg. My body feels weak though." I say which get's me a chuckle.

"Well that is expected for someone who has been in a coma for five days. S-"

"Five days!?"

"Yes! Now I must ask that you take a seat on the bed so that I may give you a quick check up." he says and I follow instructions while thinking about how long I was bedridden for.

Heimerdinger first jumps onto the bed and checks my eyes before asking me to lift the back of my shirt to look at the bandages I only now notice were wrapped around my torso. He then drops down to look at my injured leg.

"Um, quick question. Where am I?" I ask as he looks it over.

"Oh right! Don't worry young one, you're safe. Currently you're in The Last Drop, the owner of this establishment was nice enough to house you." he answers which makes my eyes widen.

"Vander."

"Yes! You were in quite a severe condition from your task with the enforcers, but you were rushed here to get help. You're lucky nothing vital was damaged. After removing all the embedded fragments and making sure you were stable, Vander and her daughter suggested housing you here. He said it would be better for you to wake up in a place you're more comfortable with than in the Kiramman estate like Caitlyn had offered," Heimerdinger explains before finally looking satisfied with his examination of my leg, "Well, Y/n, it looks like most minor injuries have healed and the more concerning ones are healing fairly quick. The only one that brings concern is your leg. It took a bad hit and will take awhile for you to recover before you can use it normally again, but don't worry. Viktor and Jace both made a leg brace just for you based off your measurements. Easy to put on too." he explains and I nod my head before looking down at the oversized shirt I am wearing.

"Do you mind telling me where my clothes are?"

"Ah, right, well unfortunately they had to be cut open in order to operate on you without risking making things worse. Your armor also did not survive the blast and was fractured in my places; stopping some fragments from hitting you, but also some of it cracking and stabbing into your back. I don't know what was done with it afterwards," he explains and I nod with a disappointed sigh, "Though I am sure Powder will have some clothes for you. Oh! I need to inform them of you waking up! Wait here." he says before rushing off back out the door he came in. I smile at his antics before my eyes explore the homey room.

It has some simple decorations like lamps, a shelf and a wardrobe. Decide to get lost in my thoughts for a few minutes about the situation I find myself in while I wait.

'I really messed up this time.'

*knock* *knock* I hear before I see the all too familiar blue head of hair before seeing Powder's whole head poke in. I see a smile on her face when she sees me.

"Hey, it's good to see you recovered well," she says as she steps in with folded clothes under her arm and cane held in the other, "These should fit you well, and Heimerdinger said you're gonna need the cane to walk. I hope you don't mind if my clothes don't match your tastes. Oh, and your shoes are just by the door." she says as she sets the cane near the nightstand and hands me the clothes.

I over the simple clothing of a pair of pants and a white collared shirt with long sleeves and smile.

"Thanks. This is fine, and thanks for housing me." I say and notice her shoulders drop slightly to be more relaxed.

"Don't mention it. Plus it wasn't that hard to look after you. Even Isha helped a lot." Powder says and makes my eyes widen.

"Isha's here!? I-Is she okay?" I ask and Powder sets a hand on my shoulder.

"She's fine. We took her in after the doctors looked her and the rest of the kids over. You clearly cared a lot for her so we thought it would be best for her to be here," she explains which makes me sigh in relief, "Now if I were I'd hurry before Isha finds a way to sneak up here herself. Ekko and I can only keep her at bay for so long. By the way, how do you know her anyway?," she asks which makes me freeze, "She told us she doesn't know who you are, but she does really like you now for saving her. She makes sure to check up on you every morning."

'Shit. Did not think about that.'

"I..... I kinda knew her parents. They weren't in the best position to support her, so they gave her up." I make up on the spot.

"Where are they now?"

"They passed away. I didn't know which orphanage she was in, and even if I did I couldn't care for her. My lifestyle would have put her in danger." I continue to build off of the lie.

"Hm, how did you know it was her then?"

"It..... It was a feeling," I lie which get's me a brow raise, "I know. It's weird, but it really was just a feeling. I-I can't explain it." I lie again, knowing it's not hardly gonna work to kill her suspicion.

She stares for a second before nodding and goes to leave, but before she does I see her stop for a second before looking back at me.

"H-Hey, are you gonna need help...... y'know... undressing?" she asks with a light blush on her cheeks and I my own cheeks heat up at the question.

"No-No I-I got it. Thanks for offering though."

"Alright, yeah..... cool. I-I'll see you down there. Just head over here when you're ready." she says, pointing down the hall before shutting the door and I hear her footsteps quickly leave.

I take a few seconds to calm my blush down before I start changing. Turns out, I did not completely have it. The pain on my back making it a little hard to take off the shirt I'm wearing, but I still manage to get it off before changing into the clothes given to me. Honestly it felt kinda weird to wear something that was clean and good quality.

I fold up the sleeves just before my elbows before reaching for the leg brace. Now holding it closer I can see the quality of the brace and a part of me hesitates before strapping it on. Once I make sure it's on correctly I use the cane to stand up from the bed and immediately notice the lack of intense pain in my leg because of the brace.

I awkwardly make my way out of the room, trying to get used to the brace and using a cane, before making my way down the hallway to another door where I hear noise. I walk through and find myself on the 2nd floor of The Last Drop. I spot familiar faces sitting at the bar before heading to the stairs. I try to take a step down, but find it a little difficult with the brace and cane making the movement unfamiliar.

"Need help?" I hear and see Ekko walking up towards me, but doesn't make a move to help until I smile and nod.

'Always a gentlemen.' I think before he helps me balance and walk down the stairs.

"Thanks. Not used to moving around with a cane, let alone a whole leg brace."

"No need to thank me. Does it hurt?"

"Nothing I can't handle, the brace helps a lot. I just gotta get used to it. Name's Y/n by the way."

"Oh right! I'm Ekko, sorry, forgot we haven't met yet." he says sounding a little panicked, making me laugh a little.

"Who doesn't know about "The Boy Savior"?" I ask which makes him groan, making my smile widen.

"Man, and here I thought you wouldn't know about that. I don't know why people call me that."

"'Cause you help people. From what I've heard you always try your best to help people."

"So? A lot of people help people."

"Not as much as you do "Boy Savior"," I say again teasingly which makes him roll his eyes, "Sometimes all people need is for someone to care. It gives them hope." I say as we finally reach the bottom step.

"Well, looks who's finally woken up." I hear Vander say and finally notice all the eyes on me now.

"Mornin'," I say not knowing what else to sayin in the moment, before I notice Isha staring at me from behind Powder's legs which makes me smile, "Hey kid, good to see you're alright."

'Most likely kinda scared after I we-' I don't finish the thought because she comes running from behind Powder and crashes into a lower half; hugging me close, 'Maybe, not.' I thought as I run a hand through her hair.

"She's been waiting for you to wake up for days. Always checkin' up on you to see if you're awake," Vander says as I take a moment to take a moment to hold Isha close, old memories of her death going through my head, "Here, you better eat." he says as he places a plate of food on the counter once Isha pulls away, but still holds the bottom of the shirt I'm wearing.

"You-You didn't have to do that." I say which makes the professor look aghast on his stool.

"Nonsense! After being stuck in bed for so long it's best to have a nice meal to start building back your strength and readjust your body." he says and Isha grabs my free hand before tugging me to the corner of the bar counter where Vi, Cait and Sevika are sitting; insisting that I eat, "See? Even the young child agrees." he says which makes me let out a sigh before sitting down at the counter; Isha trying to climb up the high stool next to me to sit down so Powder helps her up.

"Thank you." I say to Vander and begin eating the fresh meal.

'It's felt like forever since I last ate a hot meal.'

"So, I have informed Vander of your condition. I believe after some rest and not putting too much weight on your leg you will recover in no time." Heimerdinger explains and I nod.

"Thank you again. Uh, how much is the brace gonna cost exactly?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. Free of charge! Viktor was the one who wanted it made and insisted you not worry about any payment."

"Really?" I ask in slight disbelief before continuing when I get a nod, "Huh, I guess that's one less thing to worry about. Just gotta figure out how to get back home." I say as I take another spoonful of food. Though I sense a tone shift in the room.

"About that. I, or more like we, were wondering if you got anyone back home to help you recover. We thought someone would come asking for you eventually, but no one showed up." Vander asks as he picks up a glass to wipe down.

"Oh uh, no," I answer which makes Vander look concerned, "I should be fine though. I could hunker down for a few day." I say as I continue eating.

"And if some gang tries something?," he asks and I stay silent; not able to provide an answer, "Mmhm. You're staying here until you recover." he says, making me choke on some food.

"Taking in two more strays I see?" Silco jokes from across the bar with Benzo letting out a small laugh, as Isha pats my back.

"Wait. No I can't st-" I go to protest, but Vander gives me a look which makes me shut up, and Benzo laughs harder.

"Haha! You still got it, huh Vande'!?"

I sit there in defeat after already being shut down of any protests like a damn child, while the three men break off into their own conversations.

'This isn't fair. He used the "Don't test me" look.' I thought as I hear giggles from Powder and Vi.

"Nice try, but when Dad decides on something like this it's better to just roll over. I've tried." Vi says as she gives me sympathetic look.

"Plus I doubt this kid would let you go by yourself. She'd probably follow you down there and I don't think any of us want that." Powder says as she ruffles Isha's hair and hands her a toy robot.

"Thanks. And I'm sorry for screwing up the whole operation." I apologize, but Sevika scoff and waves it off.

"Whatever, it's fine. Wouldn't be the first time we had someone go off the rails on the team," she says as she and Cait give Vi a quick glance, making the pink head roll her eyes, "Plus it turned out better than expected. That explosion caused a noticeable rumble above ground, so when some enforcers found Chross and his guys come out of a tunnel up in Piltover, they put them into custody." she explains making me curious.

"They ended up in Piltover? I didn't know there were mining tunnels there." I voice my curiosity and Cait jumps in to give an explanation.

"There are a few old ones that have been abandoned. Turns out that's how he moved shipments to the Undercity. After interrogation his thugs broke and admitted to crimes, such as paying off some caretakers at orphanages to stay silent and lie about the whereabouts on the children," she says which makes me glance down to Isha who is now coloring the toy, "and the rest of the gang are scrambling without order. Overall a much better outcome than expected, even given the way it went. Your payment will be given in a few days time after we finish our overall report for our investigation." Cait finishes with a satisfied tone and expression on her face before I hear the door of the bar opening.

"Woah, look who woke up. It was about time." I hear and turn in time to see Mylo get elbowed by Claggor.

"Sorry about him. He's still learning how to behave," Powder says as she leans back against the bar counter next to me, "Y/n, these are my brothers, the gangly one is Mylo and the big one is Claggor. Guys, meet the new residence of The Last Drop, Y/n."

"Wait! She's staying here!? Why!? Isn't she still technically a criminal?" Mylo brings up which makes me glance at Cait.

"Right. I forgot to mention. My mother took a closer look at your record and insisted on pardoning you of charges on your record. It was pretty easy to get when it was obvious you weren't targeting any civilians. Though she recommends putting your skill to good use with the enforcers; if not then she suggests at least getting a mercenary license if you want to operate as a mercenary." Cait explains which makes me even more confused.

"There's licenses for mercenaries?"

"Yes. Though it is no longer as common to have mercenaries working around; Silco suggested making it available so that mercenaries would lean towards a more legal line of work instead of working with gangs, which worked." Cait explains making me wonder just how much has changed with laws.

"You didn't know about merc licenses?," Ekko asks as he walks over next to Isha and sets down a pack of what looks like crayons for Isha, and I shake my head, "It was a pretty big deal. Helped a lot when Piltover and Zaun made peace. The council paid any mercenary willing to help with clearing out gangs in Zaun, even if it was just some info."

"See Mylo, she ain't that bad. Stop being an ass" Claggor says, but Mylo scoffs before looking me up and down.

"Well, at least you aren't dressed in rags anymore. You really need a sense of style." he says with a smug look which makes me look deadpan at him.

"You really gonna judge my look, Eyebrows?" I ask, getting a few chuckles from the others and Mylo looks offended.

"I've been telling him the same thing for years." Powder tells me which gets another scoff from Mylo.

"I am, not, getting my brows done. That's a girl's thing." he says which makes Ekko raise a hand.

"Powder does my eyebrows sometimes." Ekko argues.

"Whatever, that's different. I'm not getting my brows done." Mylo continues to protest as he folds his arms, making Powder roll her eyes.

"Fine. If not the brows, then shave the facial hair," which makes him look aghast at the suggestion, "At least the sideburns."

"What!? No way! They're the main part of my look. It's manly. Right guys? Tell her." Mylo says as he looks at Claggor and Ekko to defend him on this.

They both look at eachother, then me, then back to Mylo before acting like they didn't hear anything. Looking elsewhere around the room, making the rest of us laugh.

"Oh, c'mon guys! It looks good." he tries to say, but doesn't gain any support. He then looks defeated before making eye contact with now my own smug look.

"Shave the sideburns." I say as I finish the last of the food on my plate, before my attention is grabbed by the capsule contraption Claggor is holding. Is that a flower?

"What's with the flower?" I ask which makes Claggor smile.

"Glad you asked," he says as he brushes past a disgruntled Mylo and sets it on the counter, "This is a hybrid flower to help get fresh air into the Undercity. It's supposed to be able to survive and produce air, even with all the gasses from the fissure." he says as he twists and pulls some things which gives a demonstration on the flower taking in the fissure gasses.

"What a brilliant idea!" Heimerdinger says enthusiastically.

'Mylo and Claggor working with plants? Never would have expected that.'

"Buuuut?" Powder asks with a slight head tilt, making Claggor sigh.

"But it's not fully working as expected. We got it to start feeding off the fissure gasses, but it's not working out fully as expected. They survive, but won't grow and can't produce enough air down here." he explains as Isha taps on the glass of the capsule.

'What about the tree? That somehow survived.'

"Tree?" I hear Ekko ask and turn to see him and Powder both looking at me curiously.

'Oh shit. I was mumbling again.'

"Oh, u-uh nothing. Sorry I was ju-"

"What tree?" Claggor now asks Ekko.

"Y/n said something about a tree." Ekko says, making Claggor and Mylo look to me. Claggor looking very interested, making me slightly nervous.

'Do they not know about it?'

"Uh, y'know. That one tree in the underground? Has some plants growing around it? Why don't you take samples from those?" I ask, but they look confused, "I guess that's a no."

"A tree? What tree? Where?" Claggor asks, now leaning onto the bar.

"It's not in plain sight. It's hidden in some abandon place, probably where maintenance used to be for the old pipes or something."

"W-Wait. So it's like an actual tree? How big is it?"

"Pretty big. I'd say it's been growing down there before any of us were born, maybe even longer than that."

"An actual tree. Can you show me where it is? Maybe if Mylo and I study some samples and the soil, then we can make a hybrid that can actually work for the Zaun." Claggor asks with hope in his voice and eyes."

"Su-"

"Woah, hold on," Vi says with a raised hand, "I don't think you should be walking around with your leg right? You just woke up." Vi says with concern.

"It's fine. I just gotta make sure not to put too much weight on," I say and turn to Heimerdinger, "Right?"

"Hmm, usually I would say you should rest, but I am also fascinated by this recent discovery. If the location of this tree is not hard to get to, then I think your leg should be fine."

"Not hard at all. Just a walk through some pipes and you're there, though I hope you don't mind getting your shoes wet." I say to Claggor and Mylo.

"As long as there's an actual tree, then it's fine by me." Claggor says and Mylo just shrugs his shoulders.

"Cool. I'll come too. Ekko?" Powder asks and gets a nod before looking at Isha, "And I'm guessing you're gonna wanna come too, huh?" Powder asks and Isha excitedly nods.

Vi then groan as she leans back into her seat.

"Maaan, I wanna see the tree too. Instead I need to go on patrol again." Vi says disgruntled and Cait comforts her with a shoulder rub and Sevika rolls her eyes.

"We can go see it another day Sweetie. Speaking of patrol, we better head out. Stay safe on your trip." Cait says as she pays for the drinks before leaving with a disappointed Vi and Sevika.

I stand up from my seat before looking down at my hip, remembering my lack of weapons.

"You guys wouldn't happen to have my stuff?" I ask, Isha perks up as she jump off her stool and rushes to the backroom, making Powder and Ekko chuckle.

"Yeah, about that. Isha found her way to them, so I hope you don't mind. We were supposed to clean them before you woke up." Powder says, making me raise a brow at her before Isha comes rushing back out with her arms full and wearing two helmets.

She looks at me expectantly as I see she made some cosmetic changes to my gear. Blue and green being the most colors that stand out. My shovel having a smiling face with shark teeth on it, my plain holster now being a mix of blue and green, my revolver having some stars and smiley faces with numbers on the spinning chamber, my gas mask has some little markings added where they could fit, and my helmet is much more colorful with bunny ears on the front. Looking at the colorful gear makes me smile as I pick up my helmet from atop Isha's head.

"I like it," I say before putting it on, "How does it look?" I ask

"Somehow, even more scary than before." Ekko says making me nod in approval before reaching to put on the rest of my gear while Claggor and Mylo discuss with the professor about the potential of their hybrid plants.

I do kinda struggle with reaching around with my gun holster before I feel my hand brush against another and turn to see Ekko.

"Let me help with that," he says as he helps me get the holster around and before I know it he helps with buckling it too; I feel a slight heat on my cheeks from the action, "That good?"

"Yup. Thanks," I say and Ekko nods before I take my gun and shovel and strap them on my hips, then put on my gas mask. Only then do I remember one more important thing missing, "Did you happen to find a journal on me too?" I ask, making Powder perk up.

"Oh right! Sorry," she says before reaching into her jacket and holding it out to me, "Don't worry, I didn't look in it. Just thought you'd want it somewhere safe." she explains and I nod before taking and pocketing it.

'It's best for you to never look in it.'

"Thanks. So I guess we can head out now?" I ask and get nods from everyone and Isha grabs my hand and pulls me towards the doors.

"Dad! We're heading out to go see a tree!" Powder says and get's a nod from Vander.

"Stay safe out there, and don't lean on your leg too much Y/n." Silco says before the three men go back to talking.

As we leave and Isha holds my hand in hers, I can't help but have a nice warm feeling in my chest.

'.....Maybe this isn't so bad.'

Ekko Pov

"Hey, you okay?" I whisper to Powder after noticing her lagging behind the group. All of us now walking through an old pipeline that supposedly leads to the tree Y/n has mentioned. Isha enjoying the the walk in the water, while our shoes are ankle deep in water.

"I am, but.... I don't know. This is just weird."

"You think it's a setup? She seems fine to me"

"No, I don't, but that's the problem. This whole thing feels too fine. Feels too right for someone we just met yesterday. Look at them," she says as she gestures forward at the rest of the group. Bantering about things that come to their minds. I see Y/n, her mask now off and attached to her holster, say something that makes Mylo and Claggor laugh, "She fits in. She fits in too well. Mylo would usually be stumbling over his words when met with a cute girl, but instead they're just joking and ribbing each other like they've known each other since forever." she says, making me sigh.

"I know. I was surprised when Mylo was actually able to let out a sentence without a voice crack." I say jokingly, making Powder slightly glare at me and give me a nudge.

"I'm serious. It's weird, but it's good weird. Even you and I have stayed in her room because it felt nice to just be there with her. You know that's not normal," I remember the times we'd spend in that room, using Isha as an excuse of being there sometimes because she wanted to be there, but I know Powder and I enjoyed Y/n being in the same room as us, "She makes me forget that she's a stranger. We all have friends, but we have a pretty tight knit group of people we really really care for. When I saw the condition she was in that day Vi rushed her in; I never felt that worried before. I thought she was gonna die and that made me want to cry. Even now, I still hardly know her, but it just feels right to be with her. She's hiding something and that makes me feel really upset, and I shouldn't be." Powder finishes airing out her thoughts and finally takes a deep breath. Making me wrap an arm around her.

"You're not wrong. I've been questioning it too.... but is it that bad? Maybe she just fits in really well with us?," I try to argue, but then immediately sigh in defeat to myself, knowing that's not it, "Never mind, I'm just lying to myself. I feel it too. That weird pull to her. It makes me want to protect her."

"Exactly! Whenever I think about how she's hiding something, I really wanted to look in her journal but held myself back. It's wrong, but it feels right. I-I think I see it in the others too. What-What's happening to us?"

"I don't know."

'A part of me doesn't want to know. Just accept it.'

"There just up ahead, it should be there." Y/n says as she points to the light at the end of the tunnel. A smile on her face that brings back that comforting feeling and I feel Powder relax under my arm as we catch up with the group.

Once we finally reach the end I blink to adjust to the sunlight and stare in shock at the actual living tree.

"It's real." I say looking at it in awe.

"Amazing! To think that life somehow found a way to live deep down here underground. Imagine what it must have gone through to adapt to it's conditions!" Heimerdinger says looking at it in awe.

Claggor quickly goes up closer to it with Mylo and the professor following close behind. Isha splashes around the area, she looks to be having fun playing in the water and looking at the insects.

"It's beautiful. How did you find this place?" Powder asks Y/n, who is keeping a close eye on Isha with a smile on her face.

"Just wandering around. Eventually stumbled upon this place one day." she says, but I see her fiddling with her shovel handle. I ignore the sign of nervousness and turn back to the tree.

"I can't believe no one knew about this place. It's like a sanctuary."

"A sanctuary for hope," Y/n says as she glances at me, "Even in the roughest conditions. Life finds a way to thrive. Kinda like Zaun." she says and turns back to the tree. I catch myself admiring her in scenery, apparently a little too long because I feel Powder nudge me slightly and give me a knowing smirk. It's then that we see some slight shine onto her eyes, making her blink and rub at them.

"Damn light." she says as she raises a hand over her eyes and blinking a lot, having a hard time to adjust.

"You really aren't that good with light are you? What's up with that?" Powder asks as Y/n moves to a more shaded area.

"I'm just not used to it. I've spent most of my life in the deep end of the Undercity, so light isn't really a thing I'm used to." she says making me raise a brow.

"You've had to have come up from there at least sometimes right? When was the last time you left?" I ask curiously, and also some concern for the health of her eyes.

"Besides yesterday, it's been years. Last time was when that whole speech about peace between Piltover and Zaun happened on that bridge," she says making both Powder and I stare at her in shock and horror, "What?"

"Y/n. You haven't been to the surface in eight years!?" Powder asks in concern, making Y/n nervous as she helps Isha up from the water after she slipped.

"No. Too busy dealing with gangs honestly. Never really kept up with Zaun," Y/n says as she wipes some dirt off Isha's face, "Wake up, eat, hunt down gangs, sometimes wipe them out and if I'm lucky I get a good amount of sleep. Rinse and repeat." she finishes explaining making me connect some dots.

"That's why you look so confused about laws and the way Zaun is now. You've been completely out of the loop," I say, getting a nod from Y/n, "So you haven't seen how Zaun is now? The markets? Stores? Community? Nothing?"

She looks hesitant and too embarrassed to answer, even getting a sympathetic look from Isha.

'She has been living in the past. Literally.'

"Okay. No, we're going on a different trip." Powder says, sounding slightly upset, as she walks up to Y/n, grabs a hand and starts dragging her back to the pipe with Isha following close behind. Y/n gives me a pleading look to help her, but I shrug my shoulders. A part of me also wanting to see where this goes.

"But-But what about the tree and the others?" Y/n asks making Powder roll her eyes, before tugging Y/n forward almost causing her to fall and looping her arm with her own, holding her close to support her and help her walk.

"They're too busy getting samples and admiring the tree, they'll be fine. We, are going to give you a tour around Zaun."

"You do-"

"Shut up. You don't have a choice. Come on you two." Powder calls back to Isha and I. I quickly catch up them and pick up Isha from behind and place her on my shoulders as we follow behind the two. Powder continuing to drag the reluctant girl. That feeling of everything being right, emerging again.

I don't fight the feeling this time.

Hope you enjoyed reading. Sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

#arcane au #yandere arcane #yandere arcane x reader #yandere claggor #yandere ekko #yandere mylo #yandere powder #yandere silco #yandere vander #yandere vi

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ameliathornromance · 3 days ago

Text

Today had been a complete mess.

First, you’d dropped a whole basket of freshly caught fish, where they’d splattered all over the ground and got covered in mud from the rain fall earlier.

As you bent down to pick them up, that didn’t stop a few passing Orcs from complaining about your clumsiness.

“Great, now we have to eat dirt.”

“Who let the human carry them anyway?”

Ok, ok, alright. You’ll be eating this food too, you get where the others are coming from and you could have been a little bit more careful.

You gave them all an apologetic smile, turned and approached the Chef at the other end of the camp.

“I’m really sorry about that,” you said to him, handing off the basket. “I’ll try to be more careful in the future.”

Chef – who seemed to have heard the other Orcs snide comments – waved a dismissive hand. “They can be as grumpy as they want, everyones’ got to eat their speck of dirt.” He comforted you with a smile.

Although the sting of the comments didn’t leave, Chef’s words certainly lessened the hurt of them. You returned the his smile, and left to go and carry on with your other duties.

But it seemed as though the world had other plans. Your next task, was to weave fishing nets. The camp was going to be approaching a river soon and salmon would be making their way upstream, so it was imperative that these nets are finished.

The only problem being, that as soon as you were done with knotting one net and prepared to move onto the next one, your freshly finished work would fray.

The other Orc who was weaving with you, examined your work.

She frowned as she examined it. “How’d you manage this?” She asked, tugging at a particularly unkempt section of your work.

And with that, all your hard work came undone, collecting in a pile of rope at the Orcs feet.

Your jaw dropped. Weaving nets was one of the many things you’d gotten good at since you arrived at the camp, it made no sense that your work would decline so suddenly.

“I don’t understand… I did everything right!” You protested.

The Orc frowned, picking up the now unusable rope and narrowed her eyes at it, running her thumb over the frays. She sighed and looked at you. “You’re just having an awful time of it, aren’t you? First it was the fish and now it’s this,” She looked back down at the rope. “We bought this rope from a different merchant, so it might just be shoddy material.” She handed you her unfinished net. “Here, finish this and I’ll make a note of it.”

You set to work again. This time, you made sure your knots for the net were tied twice, pulled extra tight and revisited them to make sure that they hadn’t fallen apart while you were working at the rest of it.

When the Orc came back, you showed her the work you’d done. She scrutinised your work once again and took the net from you.

Only for all the knots you’d double-triple checked to unravel. You stared, dumbfounded at the net.

The Orc sighed, closing her eyes and trying to hide her irritation. “Do you just want to take a minute?” She asked you. “Maybe go and do something else for a little while.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

You made yourself scarce and found yourself standing alone in the middle of camp. What was going on with you?

Mentally, you ran through your morning: you’d woken up at a regular time, you’d had breakfast like normal, kissed your boyfriend goodbye when he left to go hunting and gotten to work on helping the camp out.

Nothing seemed to be out of order about your morning. Maybe the Weaver was right, perhaps you just needed a break; it’s important to have a healthy work-life balance after all.

So, you returned to your tent. When you stepped into the tent, you frowned at the mess inside it. You were a clean person… your Orc Boyfriend however, was a completely different story.

He always left his clothes strewn about, sharp bladed weapons lying on the ground or propped up against your bed frame. He always told you it wasn’t dangerous to sleep with the pointed tip of a blade beside your pillow; But you found it hard to believe when your Boyfriend had nearly poked his eye out on numerous occasions.

Well, putting things away isn’t a difficult task, is it? And your tent needs to be cleaned before you can relax anyway.

Scooping up any dirty clothes on the ground, you threw them into a basket in the corner, picked up weapons, books lying around, as a strange thing your partner had been building on the table in the corner of your tent.

He wouldn’t tell you what it was, all he said was that it was held together with glue and that it needed time to dry. So, you’d left it alone mostly.

However, you did wish he could be more neat about how he stored all his equipment.

After putting away all the books and putting the weapons away in a safer place, you started to rearrange the small parts of wood and other materials your partner had been using.

The project itself seemed to be a jumble of sticks all pointing out in different directions, completely unidentifiable.

It was all going so well. It was, blissfully fine… until you turned too fast and sent your boyfriends project crashing to the floor.

Everything had gone slow as you fumbled to reach it. You watched in horror as you missed it, and the wooden craft smashed on the ground. All the hard work your boyfriend had put in to it, gone in under a minute.

And to add icing on the cake, your Orc boyfriend opened the tent flaps and saw you, hunched over his work.

The two of you locked eyes, stared at each other in stunned silence.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Your boyfriend let out a disappointed sigh. “I told you not to touch it, didn’t I?”

At his tone, your eyes began to water, and you burst into tears.

Your boyfriends disappointment vanished and he rushed over to you, “hey, don’t cry love, I wasn’t trying to make you-”

“It’s been like this all day.” You spoke over him, tears running down your cheeks. “Everything I seemed to do, just fell apart or went wrong. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to break it.”

Your Orc placed his hand on your shoulder as he listened to your wracked sobs. His hand rubbed up and down your back, “it’s okay, you’re okay, alright? It was a mistake, you didn’t mean to do it.”

After a few minutes, your sobs quieted, only leaving you sniffling. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” You mumbled.

“You haven’t done anything wrong.” Your boyfriend pulled you into his lap and squeezed you tightly. “It’s just a bad day, okay? Life is just like this sometimes, yeah?”

He planted a kiss on your forehead and gave you a tight squeeze. “Look, why don’t you take the rest of the day off, and I’ll go and do whatever you’re supposed to do, okay?”

You nodded. The two of you stood as your boyfriend picked up the broken project he was working on.

“I’m really sorry.” You said, again.

“Love, it’s fine really. I wasn’t even enjoying it that much anymore.” He gave you a smile, “I felt like I was in too deep to stop it now, so you actually did me a favour.”

You didn’t think he was telling the truth, but you still returned his smile, thankful that he was trying to make you feel better.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading my story! If you like this kind of content, you should check out my Patreon! There, I post stories twice a week and earlier than I post on Tumblr. I also post exclusive stories there too where you won’t be able to find anywhere else.

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Taglist <3

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#monster lover #monster romance #monster x human #orc fiction #orc boyfriend #monster x female #monster x reader #monster x you #orc romance #orc x reader #orc x human reader #orc x human #orc x you #orc x female reader #orc x reader fluff #monster boyfriend #monster boyfriend fluff

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fear-less · 1 day ago

Note

Don't really have a solid request but how about the ball lol literally no request just more like a prompt lol

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 tangled up with you all night

pairing: fred weasley x f!reader

➥ In which, you and fred go to the yule ball and end the night with a bang (almost literally)

warnings: fluff, it gets smutty but they don't do it, establish relationship, pretend the opposite gender can go into the dorms for this…, pet names, lots of snogging…., bad writing near the end..!

a/n: i was planning on writing smut but gave up bc i lowkey can't write smut for the life of me, that's why i have like 3 posts containing smut i fear.. lowkey gave up at the end, so another cliffhanger?????? sorry in advanced if there's any errors..

3.8k words

The Great Hall shimmered with the glow of a thousand enchanted candles as students milled about in their finest dress robes, their laughter and chatter mixing with the soft hum of magical music. The Yule Ball had transformed Hogwarts into a winter wonderland, and the air was alive with excitement.

You stood at the edge of the hall, smoothing down the fabric of your dress and glancing around nervously. Even though you’d been dating Fred Weasley for a few months now, the butterflies in your stomach still hadn’t gotten the memo. He had promised to meet you here, but you couldn’t help feeling a little self-conscious as you waited.

“Looking for someone, love?” came a familiar voice from behind you. You turned to see Fred, his signature grin lighting up his face. He was wearing deep maroon dress robes that should have looked ridiculous but somehow suited him perfectly. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he held out a hand to you.

“You clean up nicely,” you teased, taking his hand.

“And you look absolutely stunning,” he said, his voice softer as he pulled you closer. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing towards the dance floor.

You nodded, letting him lead you into the throng of students. The music shifted to a lively waltz, and Fred spun you effortlessly, his hand firm on your waist. You couldn’t help but laugh as he exaggerated his movements, drawing amused glances from your classmates.

“Fred, you’re going to make me trip,” you protested, though you were grinning.

“Nonsense,” he said, twirling you again. “If you fall, I’ll catch you. That’s what dashing boyfriends are for, isn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the warmth that spread through your chest at his words. Despite his joking demeanor, Fred’s grip was steady, his movements confident. He had a way of making you feel like the only person in the room.

As the song ended, Fred dipped you dramatically, earning a smattering of applause from a group of Gryffindors nearby. You laughed as he pulled you upright, his cheeks slightly flushed but his grin unwavering.

“You’re impossible,” you said, shaking your head.

“And yet you love me for it,” he quipped, leaning in to brush a kiss against your temple.

The night passed in a blur of laughter and dancing. Fred kept you on your toes, whether by sneaking snacks from the refreshment table or convincing you to join him in an impromptu snowball fight in the courtyard. He was a whirlwind of energy, but he always made sure to keep you close, his hand never straying far from yours.

After a particularly lively polka that left you both breathless and laughing, Fred led you off the dance floor. "Time for a break?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Definitely,” you replied, fanning yourself with your hand. “I think my feet are going to protest if we keep going.”

“Feet or no feet, you’re a brilliant dancer,” he said, grabbing two glasses of pumpkin juice from a passing tray. He handed you one, his fingers brushing against yours. “You’ve got to teach me your secret.”

“Secret?” you asked, taking a sip of the cool drink. “You’re the one who’s been leading.”

“Ah, but you’re the one who makes it look good,” he said with a wink.

The two of you wandered to the edge of the hall, finding a quieter corner to sit and watch the other students. Fred pointed out some of the more amusing pairs on the dance floor, his commentary making you laugh until your sides ached.

“Okay, but look at Neville,” Fred said, nudging you gently. Neville Longbottom was valiantly attempting to dance with Ginny, who was clearly trying to guide him through the steps. “Bless him, he’s got the enthusiasm. Not so sure about the rhythm, though.”

“He’s doing his best,” you said, though you couldn’t hide your smile.

“And that’s all that matters,” Fred agreed. He leaned closer to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “As long as you’re having fun, nothing else really matters, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” you said softly, turning to look at him. The warmth in his gaze made your heart skip a beat.

As the evening wore on, Fred’s antics continued to delight you. At one point, he conjured a handful of enchanted mistletoe and tried to sneak it above the heads of unsuspecting couples. When Professor McGonagall caught him, she gave him a stern look that only made him laugh harder.

“You’re incorrigible,” you said, shaking your head as he returned to your side, still chuckling.

“And you’re still here, so what does that say about you?” he teased, slipping his arm around your waist.

The two of you eventually found yourselves on a quiet balcony overlooking the snow-covered grounds. The music and laughter from the Great Hall were a faint hum in the background. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, catching in Fred’s hair and on the shoulders of his robes.

Fred draped his cloak over your shoulders, his arm curling around your waist. “Having fun?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“The best,” you said, leaning into him. “Thank you for tonight, Fred.”

He tilted his head to look at you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “I’d do anything to see you smile like that,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Your breath hitched at the tenderness in his gaze. Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was warm and sweet and everything you’d ever dreamed of.

When he pulled back, his grin was back in place. “So, I think I’ve earned the title of Best Boyfriend yet?”

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “You’ve more than earned it, Fred Weasley.”

He beamed, pulling you closer as snow began to fall softly around you. In that moment, with Fred by your side and the world fading away, everything felt perfect. The two of you stayed there for a while, talking in hushed tones about everything and nothing. Fred shared a few outrageous stories about the twins' latest prank ideas, and you told him about your hopes and dreams for the future. It was a moment suspended in time, just the two of you against the backdrop of the magical evening.

As you sat there, the distant sounds of the ball began to fade. Fred glanced up at the stars, his hand still holding yours. "You know," he said, "nights like this don't come often. But with you, every day feels like it could be just as magical."

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. "You always know the right thing to say, don't you?"

"It's a talent," he said with a mock-serious tone, earning a laugh from you. "But really, I mean it. You're… well, you're brilliant. And not just for putting up with me."

"Putting up with you is the easy part," you teased. "It's keeping up with you that's the challenge."

He chuckled, pulling you closer. "Lucky for me, you're the only one who can."

As the night drew to a close, Fred walked you through the quiet corridors of Hogwarts, the sounds of the ball fading behind you. The soft crunch of snow underfoot was the only noise, adding to the serene feeling of the moment. Fred's hand never left yours, his touch warm and comforting against the cool night air.

"You know," Fred murmured, his voice low, as he glanced at you, "I’m really glad we had tonight. It was perfect."

You smiled, squeezing his hand, the warmth of his fingers against yours making your heart beat faster. "It really was."

As you neared the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Fred stopped suddenly, his body turning toward you, and his eyes locked onto yours with a kind of heat that made your breath hitch. There was something in his gaze tonight—something different, something deeper.

"Stay safe, yeah?" he asked, his voice low and rough, like he was holding back. "I’d hate to think of anything happening to you after a night like this."

You teased, your voice softer than usual, a slight breathlessness in your words. "You worry too much."

"I don’t think I can help it when it comes to you," he said, his hand rising to brush the side of your face. His thumb traced the curve of your jaw, a slow, deliberate touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

You felt the air between you thickening, charged with an undeniable tension. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at each other, unable to look away. The heat between you two was palpable now, the kind of closeness that made everything else fade into the background.

"I’ll be fine, Fred," you whispered, but your voice faltered, and the words felt hollow against the current that was pulling you closer to him. "But I’d rather you stay."

Fred didn't speak right away. Instead, his thumb traced your lower lip, sending a surge of warmth through you. His eyes flickered down to your lips before locking onto your gaze again, the air between you thickening with unspoken desire.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a soft rasp.

You could feel his hand on your neck, his fingers threading through your hair, and before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft but insistent. The kiss was slow at first, testing, gentle. But as your bodies moved closer, the kiss deepened, and you felt the heat between you intensifying.

Fred gently guided you back, his hands resting on your waist as he led you toward the nearby bed. The back of your knees hit the edge, and in one swift but tender motion, Fred pushed you softly onto the mattress, hovering above you. His lips never left yours, and you could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the closeness making your heart race.

The kiss was a beautiful mix of passion and tenderness, each moment heightening the connection between you two. He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his expression serious now but filled with affection.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You smiled up at him, your hands resting on his chest. “So are you.”

There was a pause, the two of you just looking at each other, your breath coming a little faster. You felt his thumb trace the curve of your jaw, the simple touch sending shivers down your spine.

“You make me feel… different, in the best way,” Fred said, his voice hushed, full of sincerity.

You didn't respond at first, still lost in the lingering sensation of the kiss you two had just shared. The taste of him was still fresh on your lips, your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and warmth. The way his lips had pressed against yours, so gentle at first, then deepening with a hunger that had made your whole body respond—it was as though the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

"Are you still there?" Fred's voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, his tone teasing, but there was a softness in his gaze that made your heart flutter.

You blinked, finally bringing yourself back to the present. Looking into his eyes, you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. His smirk grew, and before you could catch your breath, he leaned in again, this time with more intent. His lips met yours in a kiss that was far more urgent than the first. It wasn’t just a kiss now—it was as though he couldn’t get enough of you, his hands moving to cup your face as he deepened the kiss.

The world seemed to slip away again, the only sound in your ears, the steady rhythm of your breathing, the pounding of your hearts. You could feel the warmth of Fred’s body against yours, the heat of him pressing you back into the softness of the bed beneath you. His hands slid down your arms, tracing your skin with a light touch that made you shiver. You responded instinctively, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, if that was even possible.

His kiss became more demanding now, his lips moving with a passion that matched the storm swirling inside you. You could feel his pulse in sync with yours, the chemistry between you undeniable. Every touch, every movement, seemed to carry a deeper weight, a silent promise of something more. But you weren’t rushing. Neither of you were. This moment, this connection, was something worth savoring.

Fred’s hand moved slowly down your side, and for a moment, you froze—unsure whether you were ready to take this step, but then, he paused, his forehead resting against yours, and you could feel him searching your face for any sign of hesitation.

"Is this okay?" he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. The tenderness in his voice made your heart swell, and you found yourself nodding. There was no rush, no pressure, just the two of you, letting the moment unfold at its own pace.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, but the certainty in your words made his eyes soften.

With a soft smile, Fred leaned in again, his kiss gentle, yet full of everything unspoken. His hands cupped your face again, holding you tenderly as though you were something precious, something he never wanted to lose. You melted into him, your body responding as if it had always known where it belonged—right here, in his arms.

As the kiss deepened again, your world spun in a dizzying, blissful swirl of emotions. You could feel his heart thundering in his chest, and yours followed in perfect time. His hands roamed, slow and deliberate, and with each touch, each whisper of his lips against yours, you felt the bond between you growing stronger.

And then, as you pulled back slightly, both of you breathing heavily, you rested your forehead against his, the world outside seeming to disappear entirely.

"I never want this night to end," Fred murmured, his voice rough and full of emotion.

"Me neither," you replied, your voice steady but filled with the depth of feeling that you could no longer keep hidden.

Still deep in the kiss, the two of you lost track of time. Your pulse raced, each touch igniting a warmth that spread through your entire body. But then, reluctantly, Fred pulled away, his lips lingering just above yours for a moment longer before he slowly opened his eyes.

You sighed, a soft whine escaping your lips at the sudden emptiness that followed his kiss. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, his expression a mix of tenderness and concern. There was something in his eyes, a silent question, as if asking if you were okay. You nodded, your heart hammering in your chest, and he seemed to understand, his lips curling into a small, reassuring smile.

"Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice quiet but steady, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

You nodded again, your hands finding his and squeezing gently. "I'm sure."

Fred's smile deepened, and with a slow but deliberate motion, he moved to carefully unzip the back of your dress, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, but there was no hurry in his movements. He took his time, his gaze focused on you, as if savoring the moment.

The dress fell away, leaving you in your undergarments. Fred’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, his breath catching slightly. He didn’t say anything at first, just letting the silence stretch between you two. His fingers hovered over the hem of his own robes, and you noticed the teasing glint in his eyes as he took a step back.

"Patience, love," Fred said with a playful smirk, his voice low and full of warmth. "You’ll have all the time in the world."

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your heart beating faster as his words hung in the air. It wasn’t frustration, though, not really. It was anticipation—everything felt heightened, the connection between you two growing deeper with every passing second.

"You're impossible," you teased softly, but there was no real annoyance in your tone. You only wanted more of him, more of this moment, but you could feel the power in his calmness. The way he moved, how he made you feel—like everything was on his terms, yet somehow he always made you feel cherished.

"I know," Fred said with a grin, stepping closer again, his fingers brushing against your arm as he gently guided you to sit back on the bed. "But you’re the one who keeps me on my toes, aren’t you?"

Your lips met again, this time slower, more deliberate. The kiss was still filled with that same heat, but there was a tenderness in it that made your heart swell. Fred’s hand cupped your face, his thumb gently tracing your jawline as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer. You could feel the strength of his arms, the way he held you, not to control you, but to keep you safe within his embrace.

Everything around you seemed to fade into the background as you melted into him, your fingers tracing the fabric of his robes as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. The night had become more than just a kiss—it was an unspoken promise, a bond growing stronger with every shared moment.

When the kiss finally broke, your foreheads rested against one another, both of you catching your breath. The air between you felt heavy with meaning, the unspoken emotions and desires lingering like an invisible thread tethering you together. It wasn’t just the kiss—it was everything that had been building between you two, a connection that ran deeper than words.

"Don’t worry," Fred whispered, his breath warm and steady against your skin. His voice was softer than usual, carrying a gentleness that sent a wave of reassurance through you. "I’m not going anywhere."

You smiled faintly, trying to inject some levity into the intensity of the moment. "I know that—you’d never leave dear ol’ me," you quipped, your voice light but your heart pounding.

Fred’s lips curled into a smirk, his signature confidence still shining through. "I wouldn’t dream of it," he replied, his tone playful yet undeniably sincere.

He leaned in again, this time his hands moving with deliberate care. His fingers brushed along your shoulders, trailing down to the clasp of your bra. He hesitated for just a moment, his eyes meeting yours, silently seeking permission. You gave him the smallest of nods, your chest tightening with anticipation. With practiced care, he undid the clasp and let the fabric fall away.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. His gaze dipped for a moment, his eyes tracing over you with an awe that made your cheeks flush. It wasn’t just the way he looked at you—it was the way he made you feel seen, as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him at that moment.

Fred straightened slightly, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. His pace quickened as he undressed himself, his usual teasing nature giving way to an eagerness that matched your own. You watched him, your eyes trailing over every movement, but your mind was already racing ahead, anticipation building with every second.

Soon, the both of you were left in little more than the bare minimum. Fred stood before you in his boxers, and you in your panties, the weight of the moment pressing between you. His gaze returned to yours, filled with a mix of excitement and something deeper—concern, perhaps, or maybe reverence.

"You’re sure about this, sweetie?" His voice was steady, though you could hear the faintest tremor of excitement beneath it. His words carried more than just a question; they carried a promise to stop at any moment, to ensure this was what you truly wanted.

"Fred," you replied softly, your voice unwavering despite the butterflies in your stomach. "I’ve never been so sure in my life."

At your words, his expression softened, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Alright then," he said quietly, leaning in to press his lips to yours again. This kiss was different—slower, deeper, carrying with it an unspoken understanding. His hands roamed your body, each touch deliberate and reverent, while your fingers found their way to his face, cupping his cheeks as though to ground yourself in the moment.

He pulled back for a breath, his hands trailing lower, brushing the edge of your underwear. Fred’s gaze met yours again, his eyes searching, asking the question one last time without words. Are you sure?

You nodded, this time more confidently, your heart racing with a mix of nerves and excitement. Fred’s lips twitched into a small smile as his fingers hooked into the waistband, carefully sliding the fabric down. The movement was slow, deliberate, as though he wanted to give you every chance to change your mind. But you didn’t—you couldn’t. You wanted this, wanted him.

As he discarded the final barrier between you, Fred paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you. His expression was one of quiet reverence, as though he couldn’t quite believe you were real. He quickly rid himself of his own boxers, and for a moment, the two of you stood there, bare and vulnerable in every sense of the word.

Fred stepped closer, his hands finding your waist and pulling you gently toward him. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, but it was his eyes—the way they held yours with such intensity—that made your breath catch.

"This," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, "this isn’t just tonight. You know that, right?"

"I know," you whispered back, your voice barely audible. "I trust you."

And with that, Fred’s hands caressed your waist, his thumbs tracing soft, reassuring circles against your skin. The warmth of his touch contrasted with the cool air, making you shiver despite the heat radiating between you.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshots #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred x reader

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violenteconomics · 9 hours ago

Note

I am in dire need of more of that AU that The First years get The upperclassmen toxic traits,i realy want more of It,like;

A way to include octavinelle and scarabia,maybe like,3 First years(Ace,deuce,Jack) get some of azul's toxic traits,other Three(epel,ortho and sebek) get Jamil toxic traits and yuu get both

Second thing

More reactings please,i NEED The staff,ALL The dorms and even the relatives seeing The First years developing those toxic traits,the overblots+Trey and cater for deuce getting their toxic traits right back at their face i beg you🙏🙏

anything 4 u, baby.

(but for real, though, this is an AMAZING idea, love you so much for tilling the ground for my brainwormies, mwah mwah 😘)

(also, this might get REALLY long, so hang tight!)

it was just a seed at first — a tiny idea that stuck around despite the first-years not even realizing it was there. but as the poison from their actual housewardens starts to develop into something truly deadly, so does that seed. it shows up later... but it makes itself known nevertheless.

ace, deuce, and jack have all worked for azul at the mostro lounge at one point, and though it was a very brief moment in time, it was just long enough to worm its way into their heads.

it starts with ace trappola, who's already pretty slippery with his words. but working at the mostro lounge, taking subconscious note of all the underhanded deals azul is making, he starts to pick up new... skills, let's say.

it starts small, with ace starting to give out certain favors to his fellow freshmen to earn some money. if you give him ten thaumarks, he'll do one of your everyday chores for you — dusting your room, cleaning your bathroom, making dinner, what have you. if you give him fifteen thaumarks, he'll do your homework if you don't feel like doing it, or take class notes for you if you don't feel like showing up. if you give him forty, he'll help you with something less-than-moral and definitely against the rules (he did it once back at the atlantica memorial museum — he can do it again).

there's an obvious power imbalance in all of these scenarios, but ace effortlessly words in a way that makes it seem like it's a win-win situation, when in reality, it's more like a zero-sum game.

it gets to the point where ace builds a black-market sort of reputation, and all of the freshmen know that if you need something done, ace is the person to go to.

...but then, something shifts.

at some point, ace starts a black-mailing campaign for the people who paid for the forty-thaumark favor. if you don't want your secret — one that might get you expelled, suspended, or worse — getting out, then you can pay for ace's silence with a favor or more money.

the worst part is: there's no way out. if you try attacking ace, it'll seem like you assaulted him for no reason, since if you try to explain he was blackmailing you, you'll have to tell them what he was blackmailing you with, which you obviously can't do — or else what was even the point? the same rule applies if you try tattling on him to one of the teachers or the housewardens or anybody else. and ace is a better liar than most people will ever be in their lifetime, so it's a losing battle even if you do manage to get someone to take your side.

so if you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll.

(it's not even about the money anymore, really. riddle's thirst for control and azul's desire for recognition have clashed inside of ace in the most violent way, and now, it's all about the power it gives him over other people. and after how powerless he's felt this entire school year, being thrown left and right by overblot after overblot with no say at all, this is a power trip he never wants to come back down from.)

but ace realizes he's making quite a few enemies with his little money-making strategy, and he needs someone to help him just in case someone does come up with a plan to wipe him out. i mean, just look at azul — even with all of the loopholes and leverages in the world, even he was taken down eventually without outside help. if he wants this to last as long as possible, he needs... incentive for people to listen to him.

his own jade and floyd.

his own red-and-black collar.

using his riddle rosehearts-born dominance, and taking advantage of deuce's trey-and-cater-born passiveness, ace convinces deuce spade — one of the strongest people he knows — to help him in his economic ventures.

and deuce, seeing this as a way for ace to vent some frustration and unwilling to be on the other end of ace's ire, hesitantly agrees.

he doesn't piece together that ace is acting suspiciously like azul, but he still recognizes his own role in this whole scheme. ace is running a business, right? and deuce has only ever worked in one business before. he remembers what jade and floyd were like back when he worked under them, and so he uses that experience to inform his new position.

deuce becomes known as ace's right-hand man. he'll hunt you down if you don't pay, and he's not afraid to use force to "compel" you to. there have been stories about cat beastmen getting thrown up into trees and being left there for hours. about students getting forks "accidentally" thrown at them in the cafeteria with such precision, it doesn't really feel like an accident. about a student with a spade on his face who can throw back any attack sent his way with just as much force.

and there's nothing you can do about it, because he's in service to someone who has made himself pretty powerful. ace's silver-tongue gets deuce out of any and all trouble he inevitably finds himself in — and is ace is so brutally honest, why wouldn't people believe him? so even if you try to do something to deuce, ace has his back no matter what — and he'll win almost every time.

you mess with deuce, you mess with ace, which is already bad enough. but if you fuck around with ace, you better be prepared to find out with deuce.

they're a pair — that's always been true. but never before has that fact been so threatening.

jack howl comes next. we all know how much jack despises octavinelle's business model. but, begrudgingly, he will admit there are a lot of things he can learn from octavinelle. and more knowledge is never bad. as long as he doesn't actually use it, it should be fine.

(jack is more dangerous than ace and deuce, in a way — his toxicity is insidious in a way it just couldn't ever be with them.)

with excellent hearing, eyesight, and memory, he silently keeps note of every bribe he hears being taken. every lie he knows is being told. every mistake that gets swept under the rug. it's not long before he starts actively looking for it. it's not long before jack's uncovered dirt on almost every freshmen in school. it reminds him a bit of his time working at the mostro lounge. but instead of memorizing orders from customers, he's memorizing all their dirty secrets.

it's to protect himself, jack reasons. after all, it was only his input that put a stop to leona and ruggie's plans back during the spelldrive exhibition. he's just... preparing for another disastrous event, that's all. it's just precaution. insurance.

if it's not, then he'll have to accept that leona's overblot bothered him more than he thought. that he was weak enough to let it.

(and jack can't face that yet.)

and if, once in a while, ace comes to him looking for a little bit of information, then well, that's just lending a friend some advice. nothing wrong with that.

epel, ortho, and sebek don't have any direct ties to jamil, but they are certainly... impressionable, aren't they?

sebek zigvolt is a bit dense, certainly, but even he can see how well jamil takes care of his master. and with a master that's as ditzy and forgetful and all-over-the-place as kalim, that can't be easy. even if they are merely humans, and their experiences can't even begin to compare when it comes to serving a fae prince, sebek reckons that he can learn a thing or two by observing them. so that's exactly what he does.

one day, when kalim spills food on the floor in a hilariously ridiculous move, sebek notices something few others ever would. jamil gives the tiniest twitch of annoyance — the same way silver, in all his stoicism, often does when sebek gets too loud — but then he's back to being perfectly dutiful and polite and says "i'll go get a napkin."

it's... admirable, honestly. sebek doesn't put it into practice right away, but it stays in his mind long after he first sees it.

and then, after malleus's overblot, sebek's emotions feel like they're on fire. after being stuck in a world where it took just the tiniest crack to shatter a perfect illusion, he's wary of nearly everything that disrupts his day. now every single slight against him, no matter how unintentional it may be, feels like a personal attack on his very life. but sebek can't show these ugly emotions so outwardly — that would be dishonorable behavior that could damage malleus's reputation. instead, he resorts to subtle methods that can't be easily traced back to him like putting in frogs in schoolbags and setting brooms on fire or replacing shampoo bottles with tar.

but his repressed feelings of anger start to build to the point where he's now feeling unprecedented resentment towards... well, almost everybody.

when sebek has very first negative thought about malleus in history class — "reckless bastard" — he instantly hates himself for it and throws up then and there because how dare he.

he tries to shut them out, but the more he does, the more these intrusive thoughts start to bombard him with their uncharacteristic cynicism.

he looks at lilia from across the breakfast table, and his first thought is: heartless liar.

he spots leona lying in the botanical garden and he thinks: brainless cretin.

he even sees jamil, walking through the halls, and his mind screams: manipulative bitch.

but sebek shoves it all down because he's in no position to say that. it gets to the point where he's walking around as a silent, unfeeling husk, because to be anything else would be like inviting his inner demons to visit him on the outside. he pushes his emotions down as far as they'll go, and that's just going to have to be enough to get him through the day.

ortho shroud begins to follow a similar principle. his idia-inspired pessimism has led ortho to see others as less like people and more like characters. it's easier to think of every school day as a dungeon in an rpg. it's easier to convince himself that the other students are taunting him because they're programmed to be that way than face the reality that they just don't like him.

but the problem with seeing life as a video game is that you start seeing others as just ways to complete your objectives. like npcs or maps.

and when it comes to using people, jamil viper is king. or, for ortho's purposes, the ultimate survival guide.

ortho shapes himself into a model night raven college student — kind, charming, and sweet for the teachers, but just mischievous and rude enough to still fit in with the students.

he goes to housewarden meetings with idia to "gain leadership experience", taking notes and hearing out of every single little idea he can get his hands on (these are the people who have not just survived, but thrived. they must be doing something right). one time, riddle even pats his head and praises him for his proactiveness.

his classmates adore him for always been willing to help and being so calm about even the worst outcomes.

ortho makes himself as available as possible to the rest of ignihyde, brushing off homework or studying to help them with whatever they need — fixing game consoles, wiring in controllers, checking the internet connection, et cetera.

eventually, everyone believes in him almost as fiercely as scarabia believed in jamil, once upon a time.

ortho doesn't like telling all of these lies, but it's necessary to protect himself. it's like grinding to earn coins until you have enough money to buy that special armor in the shopkeeper's store.

...or maybe it's more like those cheesy dress-up flash games ortho used to play all the time — fleshing out the perfect outfit and hairstyle and makeup that'll earn you the most points.

if people feel like they need him, he'll be able to breeze through school without any more problems. he's put the whole system on easy mode! it feels a bit like cheating, almost.

it is like a game, isn't it? it's fun.

(at some point, ortho forgets how to stop.)

as for epel... well, he knows that his sudden snappish behavior towards the other pomefiore students won't go unnoticed for too long. but this is one of his only ways of venting, so he needs it to go under the radar long enough for him to... to squeeze out all of this sudden venom that's built up in him.

epel's not oblivious. he knows how sebek and ortho have changed over the weeks, and he knows why. but epel can't pull off "repressed" like sebek, and neither can he suddenly turn into the best person ever like ortho. but they do have the right idea about taking inspiration from jamil, so epel can fall back on what there is left: gaslighting.

every time kalim blacked out, jamil blamed it on him being sick. every time someone thought kalim was being awfully uncharacteristic, jamil called it a "mood swing". every time someone asked jamil about why kalim was acting so weird, jamil claimed ignorance.

at least, that's what yuu tells epel.

and it's perfect.

so now, every time someone confronts epel about his overly critical behavior, he lies and says he's doing it for their own good. you need pressure to make a diamond, after all. and besides — vil won't settle for anything less than absolutely perfect.

("i'm just trying to catch your mistakes before he does. and i think you and i can both agree that i'm a lot nicer than he is about it.")

every time vil confronts epel about all of the complaints he's been hearing from the other students about how epel's been tearing down their ideas for outfits and hairstyles with no mercy, and disregarding all of their achievements as "not good enough" to be proud over, epel dons a confused face.

("vil, between studying for tests and the crazy physical regiment you have me do, i barely have time for myself. you honestly think i have the energy to criticize other people?")

epel even starts turning people against each other so they won't focus on him. epel subtly threatens to take away the upperclassmen's position in the hierarchy, which sets up the other underclassmen as a threat, and epel grouses to the underclassmen that the upperclassmen look down on them for not living up to pomefiore standards, under the guise of regular teenage bitching.

but all of this, combined with their self-entitlement, leads to a mini-war in pomefiore. but since this is, well, pomefiore, where being perfect and poised is the standard, the others make sure never make it obvious in front of vil or rook.

epel plays everybody like a fiddle, and ensures that none of it can be traced back to him. it's a good way to get out his frustration. and hey — it seems like everybody's upped their game along the way. vil seems pretty happy that everybody's improving in their efforts so greatly, practically overnight!

epel wakes up with a feeling of accomplishment everyday. for once, it seems he did something right.

now if only rook could stop looking so somber...

then we come to yuu, whose inner darkness has been left to fester all year. if people think they can treat them like a ragdoll, it's only fair they do the same.

there's a lot yuu doesn't have, but one thing they're really lacking is a bit of respect. that's what it means to be magicless in an arcane academy. you're at the bottom of the food chain.

and look at what a bit of self-interest can do for you! yuu studies in the library until late into the night, burning the metaphorical candle at both ends, learning everything they can about magic until they're more well-versed in it than most students in the school. yuu starts making potions that aren't nearly as good as azul's, but they're cheap and work well enough. they start making study guides for others with their new-found knowledge, even if they do bristle with the fact that a damned study guide is what caught them in azul's tentacles in the first place. they start learning anything and everything, clinging to whatever scraps of knowledge they can write down.

with this, they successfully make their case for why they should join ace and deuce's business. eventually, they're just as feared as they are among the other first-years.

but that's not enough for yuu. the power of fear is nice, but the power of controlling other people would be much more cathartic.

so that's what they do. while ace is more focused on monetary gain, yuu uses their mountains of blackmail to convince others to do whatever they want.

if crowley throws another ridiculous task at them, yuu simply hoists it off to somebody else to do. if ramshackle dorm needs a few repairs, it's only a matter of contacting a few people before a whole construction crew paid off by somebody else comes knocking at their door. and they'll do it, if they don't want to get kicked out of the school or have their reputation ruined.

but somehow, even with all of this, yuu sets themself up as the nicest out of their little trio. they're willing to let payments slide from time to time. they listen to their clients' problems. they take constructive criticism and always seem to improve in their potions and study guides based on feedback. and if you do do yuu a favor, they'll give you certain favors right back.

so even when yuu is a covetous, greedy, all-consuming shark, the students still think they're so very, very nice. because compared to ace and deuce, what else is there to think?

but this can only go on for so long. and yuu knows that.

one day, they get called to the headmage's office. yuu is already going through their contact list — a list that's quadrupled ever since they joined forces with ace and deuce — to see who'd be willing to do them a teensy little favor for them, but when they step through the door, they pause.

inside the office are all the housewardens, their vices, the teachers, and everybody else yuu has grown to know over the past year.

yuu narrows their eyes as riddle steps forward.

"yuu," riddle starts sternly, "from one housewarden to another, i believe we need to talk."

(i will address everyone's reactions in a reblog, because this is honestly getting really, really long, lol. but don't worry, the reactions are coming! 🥺)

(but i should mention that there is already a good reblog of the original post by @thenumberhuntress which addresses the upperclassmen's reactions that you can find here. go read it. it's peak.)

(once again, thank you for the great ask! this was fun to make!)

#anything 4 u baby #twisted wonderland #twst #twst first years #sebek zigvolt #jack howl #ace trappola #deuce spade #ortho shroud #epel felmier #twst yuu #the following are all just #(mentioned)#azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #a few others that appear so briefly it's not worth it to give them tags #generational trauma #i went a little off the rails with this one but i hope you enjoy it nevertheless lol #trying a new format

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hoonieyun · 1 day ago

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now playing...

oscar winning tears - raye

pairing: lee heeseung x reader "y/n" x sim jaeyun

warnings: profanity, drinking and driving (do not do this omg), toxic relationships, heeseung faints because he is so drunk, reader is left to clean up his mess, overall 18+

ignore timestamps and any possible typos lol - this chapter is partially written so please make sure to read the written text to make sure you understand the story lol

wc: 940

heeseung has spent the last 48 hours drinking his sorrows away. anytime it seems like he was ready to change and fix everything with yn, it all fell to shit. like someone up above is constantly playing a joke on him or that whenever he’s reaching his goal, a new obstacle or problem finds its way to stop him.

what heeseung doesn’t understand is that he was the only thing getting in the way of himself.

so there he was, driving to your condo at 3AM, drunk off his ass, not caring about a single thing in the world besides you. he takes another swig of the bottle of beer, finishing it off and tossing it to the side, the bottle creating a rattling sound as it lands on top of the other empty bottles in his passenger seat.

heeseung knew it was a bad idea to not only drink and drive but also a bad idea to see you right now but it’s been eating at him for the last two days. there was no way you actually liked jake and there was no way in hell he was going to believe you had moved on from him. the two of you had dated for so long, shared so many happy memories, how could you just throw that away?

except you didn’t. he did.

heeseung threw all your happiness away when you spent a whole week fighting and at the end of each day, he’d leave you alone at night to cry yourself to sleep while he drowned himself in alcohol, telling himself that you’d get over it.

he was wrong.

heeseung wrecklessly parks at your condo and barely makes his way to the lobby, stumbling on his own feet as he makes his way to the elevator and up to your condo, earning him weird side eyes from the staff but he doesn’t care. he instinctually pressed the button for the 22nd floor and he swears he could almost smell your apartment the higher the elevator went. he felt crazy knowing that the last time he was in this position was when you broke up. you had kicked him out of your place with all of his things lazily thrown into one box except that time he was headed down and not up.

with the ding of the elevator, he’s brought back to the familiar long hallway and with a turn to the left and 5 doors down, he was stood at the door to your condo. your welcome mat that read “go away” still sat at your front door and as he brings his hand up to knock, he almost contemplates not knocking at all. thinking about what good this conversation could bring but it’s almost like his body was moving before his brain could think because his knuckles make contact with the enforced wooden door and three knocks echo in the hallways.

for a moment there was only silence and when he was about to knock again, he hears the door unlock and the door reveals you. you’re in a two piece pajama set, in his favorite color: purple.

the shocked expression on your face tells heeseung all he needs to know. you looked like you were not only shocked, but also disgusted. who wouldn’t be? the two of you had just gotten into a nasty argument over text and surely he was the last person you wanted to see. you stared at heeseung & blinked a few times before responding, taking in his features– flushed cheeks, red shot eyes, and puffy skin like he had been crying.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, voice clearly laced with disdain.

“yn, please. just listen to me…” heeseung begins and you roll your eyes in annoyance. “what more could you say heeseung?” you scoff. he had already said so much to you about how he feels, more than when you were even dating.

heeseung tries to reach for your hands but you recoil away from and heeseung almost flinches like he was surprised you didn’t want to be touched. he was a stuttering mess, stumbling over his words, not forming coherent sentencs, and train of thought going off the rails.

“heeseung, please leave.” you whisper, pulling out your phone as a chain of text notifications appear on your phone. jake was texting you but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond to him right now with heeseung still being here. “no, please. fuck!” heeseung says, shutting his eyes and running his hand through his hair. he lets out a sigh and you could smell the alcohol off his breath. “are you drunk?” you ask and heeseung slowly looks up at you. he tries to say another sentence but fails due to his drunken state and as you’re about to turn him away, heeseung’s eyes roll over and he’s suddenly falling on top of you.

you didn’t realize how drunk heeseung was but it seems he’s had so much to drink that he was now passed out in your arms as you struggled to drag him inside of your condo.

unsure of what to do or why he even came there in the first place. after settling him onto your couch, covering him with a blanket, and leaving a bottle of water and painkillers on the coffee table next to him; you decide that you don’t think its a good idea to stay the night at your own apartment with heeseung there, so you make the drive to manon’s condo that was only a few minutes away– trying to wrap your head around what just happened and mostly, why you felt bad seeing heeseung so wrecked.

masterlist - back - next

hoonieyun notes: heeseung spiraling... but i promise this is the last time heeseung is a mess i know i said its only up from here on my last chapter BUT now i swear it is only up from here... at least for heeseung lmfao

also... who gonna appreciate jake??? i would ...

also the typo in "you're jen" is supposed to say "youre right jen" 😭😭😭

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

taglist: @17ericas @wave2hoon @nikiswifiee @kitzzenz @jae-n0 @dreamiestay @milanco @thinkinboutbin @who-tf-soddhi @yourssincerely-mimi

@m3wkledreamy @aespaqq @isa942572 @riribelle @st4r-g1rlllsblog @heartheejake @pochakkeu @nyxiebabyyy @l1vw00n @ningningiloveumarryme @fgumi

@softchannie @jakeyverse @payformycoffeeandleave @alpha-mommy69 @starry-eyed-bimbo @insommni4 @wiccangirl29 @firstclassjaylee @right-person-wrong-time

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arandomao3user · 2 days ago

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As an Ao3 author, I love giving headcanons that'd probably anger a certain side of the Batman fandom, but I personally don't care because it makes great angst and, again, I'm an Ao3 author and chronically ill!

First up! Dick Grayson, I like the idea of him having ADHD, of course, BUT... joint hypermobility syndrome.

(Joint Hypermobility Syndrome: Joint hypermobility syndrome is a connective tissue disorder. Thick bands of tissue (ligaments) hold your joints together and keep them from moving too much or too far out of range. In people with joint hypermobility syndrome, those ligaments are loose or weak. If you have joints that are more flexible than normal and it causes you pain, you may have joint hypermobility syndrome.)

Chronic pain fits him, don't ask, because as the eldest child with chronic pain and hypermobiltiy syndrome, trust, he has that look in his eye that he's been walking on swollen knees for the past twelve hours, had three mental breakdowns, and is still pushing through because SOMEBODY has to deal with this bull.

That's also the reason he wears freakin' spandex-- only, it's for compression! He wears compression items to help with swelling and pain TRUST, and let me have this because the math maths (it probably doesn't, but let me have this.)

He's got chronic fatigue, he's gotten used to popping dislocated joints back into place, Bruce was so confused how he dislocated and sprained so many bones so quickly when out as Robin. It's genetic, of course, Bruce finds. But he has money, and Dick powers through it all! Till he develops arthritis in his early thirties/ late twenties and actually hates everything because WHAT AND WHY--

---

Next up! JASON TODD! I have no proof, evidence, and it doesn't have to make sense but I like giving him asthma sometimes for the angst potential of if he didn't have it, he wouldn't have died in the explosion.

He didn't die from said explosion, nor JUST the smoke inhalation, but because he had an asthma attack, on the ground, bones broken, unable to breath because his inhaler did NOT survive the blast, if he even had it on him.

And that's why he wears helmet with so, so many filters in it now...

Also, being a street kid who struggles to even get his medication that keeps him alive? Peak angst, being to poor to afford your medication because the American healthcare system is actually trashy garbage.

R.I.P. Jason Todd, you would've loved clean air--

---

ANEMIC TIM DRAKE! But I up you, Tim Drake with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS)

(POTS: Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS) is a condition that causes your heart to beat faster than normal when you transition from sitting or lying down to standing up. It’s a type of orthostatic intolerance.)

Read ONE SINGLE FIC/ SERIES with this and I've loved it since because what do you mean he randomly falls asleep anywhere? No, forget your canon, he passed out and people think he just fell asleep... NOpe, he passed out, sorry random lady he was on a date with!

(The majority of people are AFAM but we aren't ready for my trans Tim headcanons yet either.)

(You’re at a higher risk of developing POTS after experiencing the following stressors:

Significant illnesses, such as viral illnesses like mononucleosis or serious infections.

Physical trauma, such as a head injury.)

Ngl, my dude gets a LOT of physical trauma (and mental--) also, losing a spleen? Surgery and at risk of viral illnesses? I'm sorry, but I need him to suffer more because I like when Tim Drake suffers horribly.

Now, despite having this condition, I am no expert, but also his caffiene/ energy drink addiction is from chronic fatigue, he shouldn't drink it, it's not healthy or good for him, but he stopped caring between the spleen loss and whatever the "Drake" run he did was because what even was that name?--

---

Damian is autistic and I will DIE ON THAT HILL--

No, I won't explain and you can't make me.

---

#headcanons #batman #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #chronically ill #chronic illness #chronic pain #chronic fatigue #pots #pots syndrome #hypermobility #asthma #angst

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ryuzakemo128 · 2 days ago

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MDNI 18+ Omegaverse Part 2

Part One

Note: Big things happens in this continuation.

word count: 1542

Ghost still remembered how you were standing on top of the building when you shot the tracking bullet into his shoulder. You didn’t aim to kill, maim? Sure. You don’t take lives. You just run from others and keep them tagged for as long as possible to know where they would be. You didn’t care if they were special operatives or the Queen of fucking England. No one had the right to have you or own you. Ever.

“I still remember how Price thought you were seeing things.” Soap snickered, “I still can’t believe it.”

“Well, whatever it is, just produced a strong smell of vinegar and my nose is hurting.” Gaz complained, whined, even. Your makeshift solution is working to your advantage. Even if it's drowning your dirty, grimy baggy clothes under hot water and white vinegar. They’ll end up trying again quite soon.

As you got changed into clean clothes, your naked body came into the view of the door window. Which to Soap? It was like he hit the fucking jackpot. Watching you pull on medical scrubs. Soap saw your back tattoo, “The gates of hell are open night and day; Smooth the descent, and easy is the way: But to return, and view the cheerful skies, In this the task and mighty labour lies.”

Soap yanked Price over to take a look at your tattoo. His hunch told him something, you weren’t just anyone, and you weren’t just a random omega the General wanted to contain. “I don’t think we know nearly as much about her as we think we do.” Soap told him, dragging him to the window and shoving the binoculars into Price’s hands.

Gaz remembered your herbal cigarettes, the lavender burning and how Price would try to scold you for your habit. “And what? Leave you smoked up like a bastard in heat or somethin?” you told Price. Breathing lavender scented smoke into Price’s facial direction. Dodging his attempts to snatch the cigarette from you.

Price, at the time, growled, “What is with you? You’re slipperier than a greased-up pig at a county fair, and more elusive than the fucking Loch Ness monster.” The spunk you had before? Increased tenfold.

“Look at you, tripping over yourselves still, fucking alphas who can’t track for shit huh?” you taunted with your walkie-talkie you found in the office. “Round And Round It Goes... Where It Stops, Nobody Knows. Round and round you go, when will I stop? Nobody knows.”

You grabbed your stuff, and you left really fast, “Tell your mother I’ll fuck her soon.” you spoke into the walkie-talkie.

“We’ve got to get to her before she’s gone. She’s a fucking ghost, we’ve been tracking her for months, and she’s always one step ahead of us. This might be our only chance before she disappears again.” Price told them. Soap was too distracted by the fact you flash banged him with your gorgeous fucking tits.

Which Price had to admit? A smart thing to do when you’re dealing with four hungry, aroused alphas on your tail. Your tits were a flash beacon even after you headed out of the room with your gear. The limping of your leg and once soap has you in his grasp again? He wouldn’t let you go again.

Crawling through the ventilator shaft, until you were dragged out by your feet by someone strong enough to get you out of there, and his deep voice hitting the base of your skull like a drum.

Dragging you from the vent, one swift tug at a time. Before long, you were carried over to Price and Ghost. With Gaz stalking right behind him, intensely staring at you from behind Soap. He had you draped over his right shoulder and your belongings in his other hand. While Gaz carried your sniper and bone knife.

Once Price taken a closer look at you, removing your shirt and replacing it with a clean, warm, dry shirt. As Price looked for one suitable.

Soap’s eyes widened as he recognised the tattoo. He’s seen it once before. It’s an incredibly specific tattoo. Only one person he knew of had it. Someone who was thought to be dead. Yet here you were. Very much…..alive. Running around like a scared rabbit. Soap’s heart is racing.

He knew you weren’t going to go with them quietly. Not with that tattoo.

“Guys, I think we might have stumbled upon someone important, she’s not what we thought she was.” Soap whispered to Ghost outside the medical examination room.

Ghost looked at Soap sceptically, “What do you mean, Mactavish?”

Soap took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice calm, “The tattoo on her back. It’s not from a book, it’s from a person. The person who had it is... or was... a legend around these parts.” He paused, his eyes searching the room as if he could see through the walls. “Her callsign was Venom, one of the best snipers the military had, until she disappeared. She was thought to be dead after her last mission, but if this is her... she’s been hiding here all along.”

Price’s eyes narrowed as he digested the information. “Venom? That’s a name I’ve heard before. If she’s who you think she is, then she’s worth more than gold to Shepherd. We can’t let her go.” He turned to Gaz, his voice low and commanding. “Keep an eye on the exits, she’s clever. We don’t want her slipping away again.”

Still processing the information, his gaze sharp and calculating. “If that’s true, then we might have a bigger problem on our hands. Get a clearer visual, Soap, and make sure it’s her. We don’t want to spook her before we get a good look at her face and confirm her identity.”

Soap nodded, his eyes glued to the small window in the door of the medical examination room. “On it, boss.” He whispered back, his heart racing with excitement and a hint of fear. Venom was a legend, known for her sharp-shooting skills and unyielding spirit. If she had indeed survived, she would be a powerful ally or a formidable enemy.

Then she would be you, wouldn’t you? When he saw your face? Soap held the new photo with the one they have. They were a perfect match. You were indeed ‘Venom’. A legend from their annals of history straight into his sight.

He felt his cock thicken, a growling in his chest, his animalistic instincts were now coming to the forefront.

“It’s her, boss. No doubt about it. She’s Venom. I’ve seen that tattoo before, on the back of the woman who trained me.” Soap said with a mix of awe and fear. “I don’t think anyone is crazy enough to be out here for this long.

Price's eyebrows furrowed, “Venom… I thought she was dead. General Shepherd killed her.”

“So did everyone else,” Soap replied, “But she's very much alive, and she's in heat. We need to handle this with care. She's not going to come quietly. Or willingly for that matter.”

Price nodded in understanding, his mind racing with the implications of this revelation.“Alright, keep an eye on her. She's a ghost for a reason.” He turned to Ghost, “What do we know about her other than that she's a damn good shot?”

Ghost's eyes narrowed as he recalled the intel he had read, “Venom went dark after her last mission. Rumour has it she took out a high-value target that was off-limits. Her disappearance was sudden, and her file was sealed tighter than a drum. If she's the one in there, she's got a vendetta with someone or something, and it's not us.”

“But she's in heat,” Gaz pointed out, his voice thick with the same primal need Soap had felt earlier. “That….. That changes things completely.”

Ghost nodded, his voice a low rumble, “It does. She'll be more… vulnerable. Hesitant to trust.”

“Vulnerable or not,” Soap said, “We can't just barge in there. We need to earn her trust”

“But how? She’s not going to listen, and she’s stubborn like Price.” Gaz said, stroking his jaw, contemplating their next move.

“You’ve been out here the entire time?” Price asked you, both in awe, frustration and a little admiration in his tone. “You’ve been living out here alone all this time?”

“You make it sound far harder than it actually is. Did General Shepherd let you think that, or are you really that stupid enough to think it?” you answered. “With the right kind of knowledge, you can go far and wide. Took out the tracker from my neck, day one, surprised you pups are still working for that bitch.”

General Shepherd. You were at odds with him from the sound of things. Whether that was a good thing or not? Another thing entirely. Another thing which now had to wait until they had you removed from this ancient building. Regardless of whether you wanted to leave it or not.

“So are you workin for him or what?” you growled.

“That’s none of your fucken business.” Price snarled at you.

“I think it is and you’re going to tell me regardless of what you think or how you feel about it too.”

59 notes · View notes

dumpywrites · 2 days ago

Text

Nomenclature - Kim Taehyung / V

Prompt: “Tell me your name.” “No.”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, strangers to lovers, simp! Taehyung, christmas cliche, some mentions of Yeontan passing (RIP Yeontan 🪽)

Pairing: Taehyung x she/her reader

a/n: I was again inspired by their song, winter ahead's music video is just truly beautiful :') Happy holidays everyone!

“Tell me your name.”

“No.”

“But, why???”

You rolled your eyes, simply walked past the guy who had been pestering you for weeks now.

Allegedly, his name was Kim Taehyung. Ever since he moved to the town and bumped into you that one time at an art exhibition, this was all he ever did. You found out he was a sculptor, and that a few of his pieces were in fact shown that time. No one was supposed to know about this information because he was using an alias called “Vante”, but your friend Namjoon who was the art curator was a bit nosey. That was also probably how this Taehyung guy found out about your workplace.

To be quite honest, you didn’t know why someone like him would want to move in a small town. He had looks, money, and supposedly fame too. He looked more like a Los Angeles or Paris kind of person. With those wavy black hair, perfect sculpted by the gods face, you would assume he was a model. But instead here he was, disturbing your cleanup duty.

“Namjoon said that you’re the same age as me.”

“Namjoon needs to shut the fuck up sometimes.”

“Wow, easy.” He chuckled, slumping down on the table. “I never ask him for your name though. I want to achieve it myself!”

You looked around your donut shop and sighed. You still needed to clean the tables and it was already half an hour past closing time.

“I’ll help.” He stood up with a boxy grin, pointing his finger up.

“You can help me by going home.” You rolled your eyes.

“Come on… I have no friends here.” He whined.

“Namjoon is your friend, no?”

“He’s barely in town.”

“I’m sure you can make friends elsewhere.” You said as you wiped the counter.

He hummed, puffing his cheeks. “Why don’t you hire me? I can work part time. I’m mostly free! It seems like a lot of work just by yourself here…”

“It’s only busy on holidays, usually I can manage it very well. And I do have a staff with me, he’s just currently not here since his dad is sick.”

He chewed the inner part of his cheeks, seemingly in thoughts again. He didn’t say anything but you saw him started cleaning the mess from the tables and throwing them to the trash.

“So, how long have you been running this place?”

“It’ll be two full years this December.” You said, your voice slowly going far as you moved to the kitchen.

The man quickly followed you, clearly still wanted the conversation to keep going. You didn’t even bother to tell him away at this point. Maybe the company wasn’t so bad.

“That’s cool.” He nodded, looking around the kitchen. “Have you always loved baking?”

“What is this, an interview?” You glared.

“Maybe?” He giggled.

“As a kid I used to want to study fashion and tailoring, but money was tight and I ended up just going for a normal and boring degree which is, accountancy.”

He voiced an “ah” and nodded. “If you have the chance, would you still do it? Pursuing fashion and all…”

“I don’t know.” You sighed, hands full with the dishes. “The shop needs me. She doesn’t have anyone else.”

“She?” He looked at you in amuse.

“Yeah, it’s a she.” You held down a chuckle.

He quietly helped you dry the plates and put them on the rack.

Finally finished with the chores, you turned off the lights and grabbed your jacket. As you moved to the door, the man just followed you around like a puppy.

“See ya, Taehyung.” You waved blankly and turned away, walking to the opposite direction.

“Wait!” He called, making you stop in tracks. “Do you want me to drive you home?”

“My home is just a ten minute walk.”

“Then I’ll walk you!” He smiled happily.

“I’m not giving away my address to you.” You folded your arms.

“Uh… text me when you get back home then?”

“I do not have your number.”

“That’s why we need to change that now.”

“It’s fine.” You turned your back again, the disappointed expression in his face went unseen to you. “Thank you for the offer though.”

He sighed with a smile, but waved his goodbyes to you anyway. There was always a next day, he thought.

You didn’t see him again until the next three days. This time he dropped by for a coffee, that you had recently noticed was bought for the sake of buying something, and a chocolate donut along with it. It seemed like this time instead of bugging you, he just sat there, sketching on his small sketch book, looking like he was shooting an advertisement for your cafe.

He never greeted you nor had he said anything to you and he had been sitting there for four hours now. Your staff had offered to talk to him, but it just did not feel right to disturb him while looked so passionate. The shop wasn’t too busy at the moment anyway.

“You sure he’s not a creep?” Jungkook, your staff said to you in a whisper.

“Can’t exactly say he’s not one, but he’s harmless.” You told him.

“He hasn’t touched his coffee.”

“I don’t think he even likes coffee.”

“Then why even order one?! What a weirdo…” Jungkook looked at the guy with side eye.

You heard the entrance door opened and saw a costumer. “Kook, handle the register for me, I’ll talk to the guy.”

Jungkook nodded and you went inside the kitchen. Grabbing an empty cup, you filled it with water before heading to the man sitting prettily at the corner.

Taehyung was quick to put down his pencil and book as soon as he saw you placing down a glass of water. “Oh, hello!” He gave you a warm smile.

“You need to drink something.” You told him, pointing at the water with your eyes.

“Thanks, I already have the coffee though…”

“You haven’t even taken a single sip from it, Taehyung.” You folded your arms, leaning slightly at the table. “Why order one when you don’t like it?”

His eyes beamed. “You noticed???”

“You’ve been here for hours and the cup’s still full.”

“Sorry,” He chuckled and then took a full sip from the glass of water. “I wanted to look cool.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t like coffee either. Not by choice cause I have acid reflux.” You told him.

“We’re bonding already, I see… miss, uh…?” He eyed you.

“Nice try.” You turned, walking away from him. You hoped he didn’t see the corners of your lips curled up ever so slightly.

In the next few days he continued to visit your cafe to seemingly work on his sketch, but he did not get any coffee anymore. Instead, he now ordered some lemon tea alongside the chocolate donut.

Usually, your shop would be closed on Sundays. You needed some time for yourself in order to prioritize your mental and physical health. But with the Christmas and New Year just around the corner, the place had been extra busy so you decided to open half day on Sundays just until the holiday season was over.

That was why Taehyung looked so excited when he walked past the cafe and saw the lights on.

“Welcome to Adore, what— oh.” You dropped your greetings as soon as your eyes met.

“You’re open on Sundays now?”

“Only during the holidays.” You simply said. “What can I get you?”

“Cherry jam filled donut?” He asked, pointing at the glass display.

“Yup. It’s a holiday special.”

“Interesting.” He hummed. “I’ll get one.”

“Alright. Anything else?”

“Nope. Please do print the bill with the cashier name on it this time…”

“You’re never gonna give it up, huh?”

“You’re so dramatic. We’re basically friends at this point, why can’t I have your name?” He chuckled.

You shook your head in disbelief. “If there’s nothing else, that would be two—“

“Boba-eyed boy isn’t here today?” He asked while looking around.

“Jungkook’s shift doesn’t include Sundays.” You sighed. “Can we please proceed? There’s a line behind you.”

“Right, sorry…” He grinned awkwardly and paid the order. He waved you goodbye in a goofy way before exiting through the door.

A lady who was a returning costumer was next in line. She smiled at you and spoke, “I’ve never seen him around before.”

“He just moved here around a month or so.” You told her. “What can I get you today?”

“Oh, the usual would be great, darling.” She smiled and you quickly typed matcha latte into the order. “I’d like the holiday hamper too, they look adorable.”

You immediately went to get the donut set. “I know, right?” You smiled at her.

You quickly typed and tally her order. After she was done with the payment, she spoke up again. “That boy seems nice… and seems into you.” She snickered.

“Please don’t mind him.” You smiled at her and sighed. “He just has a lot of time in his hands.”

“Don’t be so negative, sweetheart. It’s almost Christmas.”

She smiled before waving you goodbye, as you did the same to her.

After the half day, you decided to spend your free time at the mall, window shopping and some actual light shopping too since you were looking for small gifts to give to your friends. On the way home, you were surprised to see Taehyung in front of your shop. He was tiptoeing in cold, hands in his pocket, trying to take a peek inside the closed store.

“You’re here!” He waved cheerfully. “I didn’t know you closed early?”

“I only open until three on Sundays.” You said, feeling a little nervous seeing him outside work. “Did you wait for me…?”

“I want to give you this!” He quickly handed you a piece of paper, what appeared to be a ticket. “There’s a small art pop up at the town park next week. I have some of my works there and I was wondering if you want to come and see them with me?” He looked at you with hopeful eyes.

You looked at the ticket and at him back and forth. A small art exhibition wouldn’t hurt anybody. The lady’s words somehow flashed through your mind. Maybe you needed to loosen it up a bit with the negativity.

“It won’t clash with your work! It’s on Sun—“

“Sure.”

“Aww, man… I was hoping— wait, did you just say yes???” He widened his eyes at you. It was funny how he was already expecting you to reject him.

“I mean, I’ll probably go either way so…” You shrugged. “I’m surprised Namjoon hasn’t told me anything about it.”

“I told him not to.” He smirked.

“Well, that explains it.” You broke into a small smile.

“Wow.” He gasped. “I just made you smile.”

Your expression dropped when you realized. “You’re crazy.”

He giggled, appeared to be very happy with himself. “Wanna take a stroll?”

Both of you ended up sitting down on a random bench across the river. The cold winter air was making you shiver and Taehyung being Taehyung, he quickly removed his coat and draped it across both of you. So now you were sitting shoulder to shoulder, under the moonlight.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, the cherry donut tasted great! You should keep it on the menu.” He showed you his thumbs up.

“Really? I wasn’t so sure with the jam since I made them from scratch…” You thought. “It’s not overly sweet? I was worried the powdered sugar would be too much.”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Why?” He turned to look at you with a mischievous grin. “You don’t trust my opinion?”

“N-No! I’m just making sure…” You looked away.

Never knew looking at him in such close range would be this… nerve wracking. You never noticed his beautiful lashes, nor how unique his eyes were, one eye with monolid and the other had double.

You cleared your throat, backing away slightly. You wondered why it suddenly felt hot even though you were out in the cold winter weather.

“Is there a reason why I can’t know your name?” He suddenly asked.

You looked around, fidgeting the hem of your sweater. “You’re too positive, too eager… It scares me.”

You were smiling, but Taehyung didn’t like the way your expression looked. The smile looked like it was laced with sadness behind it.

“What made you decide to move here?” You asked, changing the topic suddenly.

He looked like he wanted to protest, but chose not to. “I can’t stand the big city. Always thought I was born to live that life, but turns out I hate the crowd.”

“Did you not have your alias before?”

“I used to star in movies.”

“Damn, didn’t know you’re THAT famous.” You pouted your lips, impressed.

“I’m no Ryan Gosling or anything, my thing was only on small movies or series.” He chuckled.

“Wait, so you quit just like that???”

“My company kept pushing me on projects that don’t represent me. I was so fed up of putting on a facade in front of everyone, including behind cameras when meeting people in parties and whatnot…” He sighed. “And with my dog passing away recently, I thought a fresh start might be good for me. Cutting off all the toxic branches, you know?”

“I’m so sorry for your loss…” You couldn’t help but to feel sad hearing his story.

“It’s okay. He’s been sick for so long, so he’s happier now somewhere.” He smiled. “Do you wanna see his pictures?”

You widened your eyes in surprise. “I can?”

“Sure. Just a sec…”

He took out his phone and showed you a few photos from a dedicated album. Your heart melted upon seeing the images of the adorable Pomeranian. There was a few photos showing the dog wearing costumes, some he took with his friends, and even some selfies of him with the late dog.

“His name was Yeontan.” He said, fingers still scrolling through the phone, letting you see more pictures.

“I’m sure he was a good boy…” You gave him a smile.

“The best.” He smiled back, almost teary eyed.

Maybe it was the festivities around you, making your heart softened, but you finally agreed to him walking you back home. It was almost awkward to say goodbye as deep down you wanted to hug him. Not only as a farewell, but you wanted to comfort him after hearing his story. You were fighting with your inner morals and self respect, then ended up with a simple fist bump. To be fair, that was more you coded anyway.

He was very sweet, waiting in front of your house, making sure you entered the door before leaving. You had to shoo him away through the window to make him leave. The sound of his laughter as he waved at you, sounded like a soft Christmas song.

You did not get to see him until the day before the exhibition. You and Jungkook were busy cleaning up the place, and you could hear your staff’s growl when the sound of the door bell could be heard, thinking it was a costumer coming on closing time.

“Oh, it’s the creep.”

“Hello, boba boy.” Taehyung greeted playfully at the guy.

“I do not like this guy.” Jungkook pointed to him and looked at you.

You gave Tae a small smile before patting Jungkook’s shoulder. “I don’t either.” You chuckled.

“Oh, yeah sure!” The younger guy protested, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll be done in ten minutes.” You looked at the guy who was waiting next to the door.

“Take your time.” He smiled at you, but earned another glare from the staff boy.

After you were done and Jungkook went home, subsequent to giving the waiting man a few death stares. You heard Taehyung huffing and puffing, hands inside his pocket, while you were locking your entrance door.

“What do you wanna talk about?” You asked him.

“The exhibition is tomorrow…”

“I know.” You giggled. “And?”

“Hey, I don’t have your phone number to just text this thing, okay?” He said in defense, making you laugh. “I have something to give you though…”

“Oh? You don’t have to!”

You backed away one step from him but that did not stop him from taking out something from his pants pocket. He took out a small maroon colored jewelry box, and your heart was racing out because, to random people this might look like he wanted to propose to you.

He opened the box and showed it to you. A beautiful silver-plated Vivienne Westwood necklace was inside of it, you could notice it right away with the iconic Saturn orb.

“Taehyung, I can’t accept this! I don’t even have anything to give you…”

“I just think it’d look great with formal looks, for the exhibition and all…” He looked away shyly. “Just take it, please.”

Your hands were slightly trembling as you reached out for the box. “Thank you. It’s really beautiful.”

“Uh huh.” He grinned, rocking back and forth playfully. “So uh… can I finally have your phone number? I kinda need to know when to pick you up…” He looked at you with hopeful looks.

“Sure.” You chuckled.

“Yes!” He threw his fist up, before quickly recollecting himself and cleared his throat. “Uh, here…” He handed you his phone.

As you typed your number in, he suddenly stopped you.

“Don’t type your name in!”

You looked at him with crooked head, wondering if he had lost his mind. The fact you were about to do it too.

“Just tell me tomorrow, if you want to.” He grinned.

“Okay…?” You chuckled and handed him back the phone. “What’s this all about?”

“Where’s the fun if I tell you.” You could see his cheeks turning a rosy color despite the low light.

“Suspicious.” You eyed him, couldn’t help a smile. “But I’m intrigued.”

He flashed you his usual boxy grin, hands inside the pocket as he blew a cold smoke. “I’ll take you home?”

You might not realized it, but Taehyung had slowly but surely began to tear down the barrier you built one by one. Whether it was the constant affection, random jokes, or the small details that he would always noticed, whatever it was, his presence made you felt safe.

Came next day, you had texted Taehyung when to pick you up at your home after work. The struggle and anxiety of choosing the right outfit really joined late. The whole day you thought you had figured it out, but when you finished putting it all together, you started overthinking. Does Taehyung like woman in skirts? Does he prefer woman with hair up or down? Would it be too much if you wear a little bit of makeup?

The choices landed on a simple black mini dress with a white shirt under it. It was the most formal-but-not-try-hard-but-also-still-cute kinda outfit you had. Your red plaid patterned pumps matched the whole theme of the Vivienne necklace that was gifted to you days prior.

As you take a look at your reflection in the mirror, your phone rang. Expecting it to be Taehyung, you looked up the caller name revealing your friend Namjoon instead.

“Hello?”

“You’re coming to the exhibition, right?”

“I am. Why?”

“Tae’s picking you up?”

“Yeah, I think he’ll be here in fifteen.”

“I’m assuming things are well between you and him?” There was a hint of sneaky teasing in his tone of voice.

“Didn’t know you were trying to make something happen between us.” You said as you looked at the mirror, applying lipgloss.

“Wasn’t suppose to, I don’t think that was his initial intention either.” The guy chuckled from the other line. “But I don’t know man… I just think it’s good to see you with someone again, no? You’ve been through so much and I think Taehyung is a good person.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, we don’t even know if he’s even thinking that way.”

“Well, I know.” He emphasized. “Dude wouldn’t even make a move without my permission.”

You broke into a smile. “I didn’t know you’re that protective of me.”

“Hey, ever since what happened with that sick bastard, you had been shutting yourself down. You kept yourself busy with work, you don’t even socialize that much anymore…” He sighed. “And I know you are scared. I know you’re afraid of people that show you so much interest so fast, people who are all sunshine and happiness. But don’t you think it’s about time you try to trust again?”

“I don’t know Joon… to be honest with you, I feel safe with him. He seems like he has the purest intention, and even if he doesn’t even think about this romantically, I still want a friend like him. But…” You paused. “That’s why it’s even scarier. He’s broken all the walls I’ve built. If he hurt me, I’ll be back to ground zero again.”

“It’s always worth the risk.” Your friend said sternly, assuring you. “And don’t worry, I’ll personally punch him in his goddamn top five most handsome men face if he ever tries to hurt you.”

You laughed. “Thank you, Joon.”

“Go get dolled up. I want jaws on the floor when you arrive.”

“That’s not gonna happen, but whatever.” You laughed again. “See ya.”

“See you, lover girl.”

You had your fair share of Christmas movies. You were also never much of a romantic person yourself, so the Christmas movies dreamy golden retriever boy coming to sweep you off your feet cliche was never your cup of tea. But never say never, people said.

The sleek back hair, the preppy white button up, the black suit. Who were you kidding, did this person steal his outfit from a movie set or something? You were sure you were getting picked up by a friend, not the prince himself.

“Hi.” He said, a bit breathless.

“Hi there.” You said bashfully. “You look great.”

“Don’t steal my line.” He laughed, pulling his collar slightly. “Oh shit, I forgot.”

“What is it?”

You saw the man quickly ran to his car and picked up something from the back seat.

Lord saves us all. He came back with a bouquet.

“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You can’t keep doing this!”

“It’s too much, is it?” He eyed you with a smirk.

“I like them though.” You smiled as he handed you the flowers. “Although I must admit, red rose is a bit overrated.”

“It matches your shoes though.” He pointed out.

“I guess you’re right.” You giggled. “Wait just a sec, I’ll vase them.”You came back a few minutes later after quickly finding a jar for the roses. “Ready?”

“After you.” He playfully said.

You had the opportunity to bond over music taste through the car ride. You shared your playlist and so did he. You tried your best to not sneak in looks but you caught him doing the same thing a few times, in which both of you just laughed it off.

“Wow, she’s finally out and about, folks!” Namjoon greeted you as soon as both of you were in sight.

“I do go out sometimes, you’re exaggerating.” You slapped your friend’s arm jokingly.

“Buying groceries doesn’t count.”

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s just leave this guy.”

Taehyung laughed. “Wasn’t planning on letting him trail us anyway.”

“You guys are disgusting. I am busy too, excuse you.” Namjoon shook his head playfully. “Enjoy the show, don’t forget to see the main piece!” He eyed Taehyung, wiggling his eyebrows.

“We get it. Now shoo.” Taehyung gestured with his hand at the tall guy. Namjoon laughed once again before leaving the two of you. “Shall we?” He asked, gesturing his arm in hopes you would link yours over.

You nodded and happily obliged.

He cleared his throat as both of you start walking. “I’m supposed to be your tour guide and I rehearsed my whole opening speech, but now I’m nervous as hell with you being this close to me.”

Your cheeks flushed and you giggled. “It’s okay, let’s just both be visitors today.”

“Alright…” He breathed out. “You can ask questions if you’d like. Not everything here is mine but I know a thing or two about them too.”

Soon your eyes landed on a grayscale painting with random splashes of shapes decorating it. You let go your hand from his arm, stepping closer to the artwork, admiring it from close range. The amount of small details made up for the lack of vibrant colors, the visible brush strokes and different textures made it look very unreal to you.

“Caught your eye?”

“It must took a lot of time and effort doing all the different textures and details.”

“Yeah, it took me months. Made this while thinking about the last time I fell in love.” He smiled at you.

You were taken aback. Your eyes went down to the small signature done by the man himself. “One would’ve think being in love involves more bright colors…”

“It was more complicated than that.” He stepped closer and stood next to you, eyes on the painting as well. “There was a mix of emotions in there. Happiness, sadness, the in betweens… But all of that memories belong to my past, hence the gray palette.”

You were debating if you should ask more about the said past.

“You could ask, you know. If you’re curious…” He said, as if he could read your mind. “It’s okay, we ended on good terms. She just fell out of love. I guess I just bore her.”

“That’s awful. How could someone find you boring?”

You froze when you realized what you had just said.

The man chuckled as soon as he heard. “Thank you for the compliment.”

You turned away, blushing. “Let’s move on.” You walked ahead.

He followed your pace and walked aside you. “What about you? What’s your past like? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“I don’t really have that much experience.” You said with eyes still roaming the area. “Namjoon didn’t tell you anything?”

“He loves to gossip but he also cares about you very much, so no.”

You smiled and puffed a sigh. “It might not sound like that much of a big deal, but the last person I dated lovebombed me at the lowest point of my life. I was dealing with the loss of my grandma, moving back to this town to continue her bakery, and he came to me just like that only to leave me for another woman like I was nothing.”

“Hey, that is a big deal what are you even talking about.” He stopped and looked at you, seemingly a bit pissed too after hearing your story.

“I try not to let it get to me anymore, I guess.” You pulled the hem of his sleeves, signaling him to continue walking further. “It’s getting better now, thank you.”

“Thank you?” He eyed you.

“Yeah, thank you.” You smiled.

He chose not to question it and just continue the tour with a big grin decorating his face. The two of you continued the tour before Taehyung suddenly stopped you from making a turn to the last room to see.

“Uh, before you go I need to tell you something… I want you to know that this didn’t happen on purpose.” He plastered a nervous smile.

“What are you talking about?”

“The inspiration didn’t quite reach me until the very last few days… I was supposed to sculpt a whole different thing, but I ended up with a bust.”

“Oh? Then I can’t wait to see—“

“Wait,” He grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “I want to let you know that I made this because it’s all that’s been occupying my mind the past few weeks and I don’t mean it in a creepy way… in case you’re offended.” He chuckled nervously again.

“Why would I get offended?” You looked at him suspiciously.

He took a deep breath and breathed out heavily. “Let’s go see it.”

Once you were inside, the first thing that caught your eye was a huge bust sculpture facing back. There was somewhat of a drip effect coming from the neck downwards, huge mess of concrete pooling at the bottom, creating the illusion of an unfinished raw work. From the looks of it, the statue seemed to be of a woman, but you couldn’t judge for sure. As you stepped closer, circling to get a better view, Taehyung quietly followed you from behind.

You began to notice the ear, the side profile and how oddly familiar looking it was. Once you finally see the full front view, it all made sense to you.

The sculpture was in fact made to look like you. It had your eyes, nose, lips, everything. It was you, with your hair up like how you would during work hours.

“T-Tae… is this…”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at you with reddened cheeks. “What do you think?”

You were still in awe, speechless of seeing a literal art piece of yourself, most importantly, presented to the public eye. You weren’t sure if screaming or crying would be the appropriate way to react.

Seeing you stunned silent, Taehyung began to panic a little. “It’s creepy, isn’t it? I’m sorry…”

“No!” You quickly voiced out. “It’s just… I’m just loss of words. I can’t exactly believe what I see.”

“I can’t either.” He said, looking uneasy still. “It just happened out of nowhere. I only realized when I was already halfway done with your nose.”

“I…” You took a good look at the piece again, before continuing. “It’s really beautiful. I wasn’t even sure it’s me until I see the full view.”

“Well, that’s how you look in my eyes.” He giggled.

You blushed. Clearly you didn’t have any comeback ready in you for this.

“If you look closely, this piece doesn’t have a name yet.”

You looked down to see the name plate empty, as told. Then something just connected in your head. This cheeky smart bastard.

“Wanna name it?” He looked at you with a big contagious smile on his lips.

You nodded, mirroring the smile he had on. Instead of immediately saying your name, you stepped closer and hugged him, in which he instantly returned, resting his head on top of yours. In his embrace you looked up and finally told him your name.

The expression he had was mixture of joy and surprise. Both of you bursted into laughter in unison. For a moment, the world seemed to have stopped just for you. You even forgot the existence of other visitors wandering around. It was just you and him.

Taehyung took out something from his side pocket, a black marker, which he wiggled playfully in front of you. He looked left and right, making sure no one would notice, before he quickly wrote something on the golden plate.

“What if someone sees you?!” You whispered.

“Don’t worry, Namjoon already knows.”

He chuckled and took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together as he led you through the exit. You didn’t get to see exactly what he wrote on the plate, safe to assume it was probably just your name.

Little did you know, Namjoon had reached the room, examining the new named sculpture, with the word “Love” now scribbled on top of its name plate. He couldn’t help but to be happy for his dear friends.

Thank you for reading! 🎨

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts scenarios #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenarios #kim taehyung #bts v #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung fluff #bts christmas

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spectral-phases · 1 day ago

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A non-comprehensive guide to my cooking headcanons for the Batfam

I'll add comic panels to support myself when I feel like I'm going very much against the grain of fanon and have to defend my position a little.

Alfred: Master of the craft, learned to cook from French chefs and has been a professional chef as a cover while serving as a spy. He can make you croissants and puff pastry from scratch, but the waffle iron (every waffle iron, yes even that brand new fancy one that is supposed to be so easy to use) was designed in hell to torment him specifically. This may be because even God himself is jealous of Alfred's ability to master a recipe after only reading it once (never refers to it again while working), or watching the video once and so he was given an Achilles heal by the divine. He has a cookbook and personal recipes written down, but very rarely looks at them. He is not the best teacher, and he did not care for children or anyone else in the kitchen, but Martha Wayne was not having any of that, especially for Jewish holidays, and to date, the way he handles kids in the kitchen is his best approximation of how Martha taught Bruce how to cook, but he lacks the requisite patience because he learned how to cook from French chefs (Gordon Ramsey without the soft kids mode, but he's never screaming or yelling or cussing people out because he's refined).

He is allowed to cook in the kitchen by himself

The kitchen is his domain and he maintains the right to supervise as needed, with some exceptions

Select people can assist him, but he prefers to do the cooking by himself as its the only thing he adds to the family that they enjoy that isn't cutting off years of his life like medical treatment or running the comms is. He's also stupid fucking fast at it and good at cleaning as he goes, and its hard to have someone else in his very regulated and honed system without mucking it up

Bruce: Contrary to popular belief, the man can cook. Unfortunately, he can only do so if there is a written recipe to follow and it is written in the way that makes sense to his brain. Will read the recipe ahead of time for prep, but will miraculously forget that there is a 3 hour resting period if it is not at the top with the prep time and cook time. Please do not ask him to cook anything after watching a video, it does not stick. Has no sense of what spices do what, so if the recipe says we're using 2 tablespoons of ground cloves, then that's what we're doing. With a good recipe, he can make any food from around the world no matter how complex, however, even something as simple as a tuna salad, ham and cheese, or a PB&J sandwich needs a written recipe with exact amounts and instructions for him to get it done or he will mess it up in ways not even the devil himself could imagine. Look, he has an eidetic memory, but his brain just does not compute that way and he's alway second guessing himself without a written recipe. The only thing he can make from scratch without a recipe are his mother's latkes, but that is, of course, rarely made because of all the emotions, but sometimes he goes through it because he remembers how she had him make them and it feels like she's still there with him, whispering in his ear.

He and Alfred have both agreed to tell anyone who asks that he's not allowed to cook by himself in the kitchen because he will find a way to use three pots and every bowl to make hot chocolate (he will, as a matter of fact), but it's really because when he was younger, he was making a pan sauce that the recipe simply said to “reduce” and managed to burn it so badly it ruined a pan Alfred had inherited from his grandmother and Bruce cannot stomach the possibility of doing that again

He winds up cooking for real these days only if Alfred is injured, but can sit in the kitchen to help supervise (“No, Master Bruce, you'll need a much bigger pot for that”) and explain vague steps in the recipes ("Coat the back of a spoon means that...")(Alexa or other virtual assistants do not help)

Dick: Despite what his kitchen cabinets may suggest, he makes phenomenal food. He's just putting all his emotional energy into keeping his people alive so if he's on his own then odds are he's having take-out, eating a mix of cereal/granola bars/trail-mix/cartons of protein shakes, or maybe a frozen meal prepped thing from the last time he had the wherewithal and time to do so and is thusly freezer burned to shit. If he is making food for other people? Amazing. Delicious. His repertoire is mainly dishes from Eastern Europe or Southwest Asia, but he has to know what the soul of the meal is if he's making something new. Rarely consults written recipes (unless they're online and have the whole novel of where the recipe came from and what it means and all the pictures of how it's supposed to look at various stages, and he will read that and the ingredient list only), prefers videos, but only from grandmas and grandpas or POC, not the rich white frat boys.

He cooks in any kitchen where Alfred is not and will not be present. You would be forgiven for thinking that he and Alfred could cook in the kitchen at the same time, especially since they can make the same dish with a reasonably similar flavor profile. The fact of the matter is, they both are very much type A personalities (even if Dick likes to pretend he's a type B) and if they are both present during the cooking process they will be at each other's throats constantly about their different methods, even if they are getting to the same destination in the end

Cass: Subsists mostly off of what she can find or what others feed her. She can cook a few simple dishes but they’re not mind blowing. She does make a phenomenal assistant, but she had zero working knowledge of what does what coming into the picture and has been gradually learning. Has learned how to work the waffle iron from Steph, and so is in charge of waffles for breakfast. Waffles has become her thing and everyone lets her have it. She can even make stuffed waffles these days.

Alfred is happy to leave all waffle breakfast adventures in the manor to Cass, she's very polite in the kitchen and doesn't make a huge mess, she'll even clean as she goes so it doesn't interfere with whatever else he is making

She is Alfred's favorite assistant (the rare times that he actually wants one) because she doesn't take his irritation personally because she can see how its meant to be directed at himself and will do exactly as he says

Jason: It's important you know I headcanon his paternal grandmother as Italian (so she cannot be Ma Gunn) and his step-mother as Latina going into this. He can fucking cook like no one's business. He can taste something and recreate it nearly flawlessly. However, he was taught by his nonna and mamita to measure with his heart, so he was presented with measuring cups once and broke out into hives. Only God knows how much of any one ingredient makes it into anything he makes, this includes cakes and breads. The only recipes he's interested in learning are strictly videos from the grandmas and grandpas or POC (Jason has a rule, the shittier the camera quality, the better the food will be, usually). He watched one popular white frat boy cooking video exactly once and was screaming about why they have to dirty approximately sixteen thousand little bowls to measure out each spice by themselves (and that wasn't nearly enough garlic!). He technically has recipes written down by hand from his nonna and mamita, and a few he wrote himself to try and help Alfred understand some meals, they're just hidden away in a drawer that he rarely references for cooking guidance over looking at their handwriting (The set from his family was in the box of stuff the neighbor saved for him that had his birth certificate in it, and he is forever grateful to still have that stuff. He thought for sure it was gone for good). Approximately 80% of all his meals are cooked by him or someone else, even if it's just a quick scrambled eggs and toast.

Jason and Alfred do not coexist happily in a kitchen together. However, they do coexist because Alfred asked him once why he was doing things “that way” as a child and he said his Nonna did it that way and that shut Alfred the fuck up immediately

Jason does not accept help in the kitchen from anyone unless he's making dumplings of any variety or tamales and then everyone's helping put them together

Tim: He only started learning how to cook at the age of 15, so he doesn't have a wide base of experience to draw from or pre-existing knowledge. Tim has a few staple dishes he has learned how to make. It's good, but not winning any awards. However, his hang up is he needs to know exactly how and why things work the way they work in a recipe before he can actually be trusted to cook it on his own. He likes recipes from food scientists, hobbyists or professionals, because they are more likely to explain all the things he needs to know before he can go ahead and cook something more complex. He measures everything in grams, and had to get a scale with 10ths of a gram for spices, once made coffee with lab equipment just for the science of it. Someone got him The Food Lab by J. Kenji Lopez-Alt and it was a game-changer. There is no deity out there that can explain to you the recipes he writes down himself, because their ever changing shorthand only make sense in his brain. Like Dick, Tim does not often have the wherewithal to make complex foods for himself, and so has a bunch of jars of sauces/curries/soups or vacuum sealed pre-seasoned meals ready to go in a sous vide or pot in the freezer to break out as needed. Often freezer-burned because of how little he is at his own place.

Tim is only allowed to cook in the manor's kitchen with supervision because he is likely to make disastrous experiments if left curious and unattended ("I know it's usually done this way, but…" is either going to lead to some delicious food, or an explosion. No way to know for sure unless you're there watching it happen live). What happens in his home kitchen is between him and God

He can make himself useful as an assistant if needed, but usually only for Dick because only he has the patience to put up with Tim in the kitchen

Damian: Has forced himself to learn to cook competently. Will not let himself be outdone by the others, but has learned from all of them. When he's older, he could whip up a Michelin star quality dinner with plating, but doesn't find it worth the effort unless he is trying to impress someone or prove he can. Opts for simple and nutritious meals on the rare occasion he is responsible for his own meals and has the time/desire to cook. Does he measure? Only exactly for baked goods, he will never admit it, but he has no idea how Jason can make baked goods without measuring. There are two things he knows how to make on his own as easy as breathing beyond eggs: Martha Wayne's latkes and Talia's karak chai.

Damian will only cook in the manor if it is more prudent to do so and everyone else there cannot (It's the middle of a blizzard and Bruce and Alfred are sick). Regardless, he is allowed to cook unsupervised in the manor when he's old enough for that to be reasonable.

Will help Alfred but complain the whole time, despite obviously enjoying the time spent with Alfred

Look, he's either helping someone else make something, or he's on his own. Does not care for assistants as he feels like he is constantly being judged.

Barbara: Can cook, will cook, and does cook. She uses slow-cookers and sous vide usually, because she needs something she can throw into a pot and then have to run away from for hours at a time at a moments notice without having to juggle it too. Otherwise it's a microwaved meal. Everything in her kitchen has been fit to accommodate her cooking in her wheelchair and when she's got the time and is really feeling up to it, she can cook a very amazing meal on the stove just for herself or anyone else she's having over.

Will only accept help in the kitchen from Cass or Steph because they are laid back enough to put up with

Steph: Can she cook? Yes. Does she love cooking? No. Cooking is a chore to her and it does not have the payoff she needs to engage with it more than absolutely necessary. She'll look through her pantry and declare that she doesn't have anything good because everything she has was bought when she had more ambition to cook than she currently possesses and then order door dash. The easiest way to get her to cook is to tell her that she's not allowed to. That said, she really loves to bake. She's not winning any awards for her presentation, but it tastes amazing.

Would rather clean dishes than help cook because she does not have the energy to put up with the way the others are while cooking

I haven't read much with Kate, Duke, Helena, or Harper in it, so I don't have anything for them.

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foundtherightwords · 2 days ago

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Fallen Empires - Chapter 7

Pairing: Geta x OFC

Summary: Having done the unthinkable to secure his throne, Emperor Geta rules with ruthlessness and paranoia. Now, after escaping an assassination attempt, a badly injured Geta is saved by Daphne, a young widow, who takes him back to her remote village without knowing his true identity. As Daphne nurses the former emperor back to health, attraction blooms between them, and Geta discovers a soft side he didn't know he possessed. But can their love survive his thirst for revenge and his desire to reclaim power?

Chapter warnings: non-explicit smut, Geta being an oblivious jerk

Chapter word count: 2.7k

Prologue + Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Daphne didn't come back for a long time. Geta finished bathing and put on the clean tunic she had set aside for him, and still she hadn't returned to the hut. Feeling slightly worried and wondering if he had offended her somehow, he made his way outside to look for her.

A full moon was casting its light over the hills. Every stone, every leaf was painted in silver, and the lingering heat of the day felt less intense in such a cool, tranquil world. Even the insects were quiet. The only sound that broke the silence was Geta's own wheezing breath—the bath had tired him out more than he realized—and a splashing sound coming from the cistern. He turned toward it.

Daphne was sitting on a rock by the cistern, with her back to him. She was bathing, just as he had, by pouring water over herself using a dipper.

Looking at her, Geta suddenly understood why poor Actaeon had risked the wrath of Diana and death by his own hounds to spy on the goddess. He'd thought that Daphne looked like Aurora in the light of the rising sun, and now, under the moon, she had transformed yet again into Luna. In that silvery light, her body glowed with its own radiance, and drops of water on her skin sparkled like diamonds, so he couldn't tell where her flesh ended and moonlight began.

His arousal came back with a vengeance, a stiffening fire coursing through him, throbbing, aching, and he stood stock still on the hillside overlooking the garden, too mesmerized to even turn away. Had he been stronger, had it been any woman other than Daphne, he would not have hesitated to storm down to the cistern and take her right there and then, but a little voice in his mind told him that Daphne would not take kindly to that. He reminded himself that she was the only person standing between him and certain death, and it would make things rather awkward for him if he were to force himself on her. But it was more than that. Even now, sitting naked as she was, something about her struck him with awe, something stern and imposing, not physically but spiritually, something he dared not touch, lest he sullied it.

Just as he'd decided to return to the hut and take matters into his own hands, Daphne called to him, her voice ringing loud and clear in the stillness of the night. "Romulus? That you?"

Hades. How did she know? Had he made that much noise coming into the garden, or had she eyes on the back of her head? Now would be the time to apologize for spying on her, or even to sneak away as silently as he could, but he only mumbled, "Yes."

"Are you going to stay there?"

"Why?"

He couldn't see her face, but from the sudden turn of her neck, he could guess at the flush creeping up her face. "Because I like to get up, and I've forgotten my towel," she said quietly.

Her confession sent a lightning stroke through him. She was in his power now. He could do what he wanted with her.

But what did he want with her, exactly?

"I can fetch it for you," he said. His voice came out breathier than he'd expected, probably because the walk down to the garden had tired him. If not, why was his heart beating so heavily in his chest?

"Please."

But he didn't. Instead, he sidled down the garden path to the cistern. This close, the scent of soapwort was stronger than ever, making him lightheaded. He could just see the slope of her shoulders, the curves of her waist and hips, a hint of the soft swells of her breasts behind the washcloth she was clutching close to her chest. Her skin looked so smooth and white, but he imagined it would be cold and hard as marble upon touch.

"Are you still there?" she asked, after a moment.

"... Yes."

"My towel?" she prompted.

He balled his hands into fists. What was the matter with him? He had never been cowed by a woman before, and he'd be damned to the pits of Tartarus if he was to be cowed by this peasant woman now. A new but familiar fire—the fire of rage—rose within him and momentarily blotted out the fire of lust. Who did she think she was to order him about so? Did she think she could reduce him to a blushing, blubbering mess just because she was sitting before him naked? Or was this a clumsy attempt to seduce him? By Jupiter, he had seen thousands of naked women. In his bed at the palace and at the camps, in the baths, at orgies, even in the Colosseum, as female gladiators or criminals facing punishment. Only rarely did they move him. He would show her that just because he'd taught her to read and held her hand and comforted her, it didn't mean he was some village boy for her to toy with as she pleased.

The cistern was dug into the side of the hill, and with Daphne's position, right on its edge, facing the slope, the only way he could face her was running down the slope himself. He refused to go to the trouble.

"Turn around," he said.

She stiffened. "Why?"

"I want to look at you."

"...Why?" There was no anger or fear in her voice, only genuine curiosity.

"You've seen me naked, but you won't let me see you?"

It took a while for her to answer. "That's different," she said. "You were ill and I had to wash you. I took no pleasure from it."

"Who says I'm taking pleasure from this?" he said, unable to stop a smirk.

Daphne twisted her head around. Just as with her voice, there was no anger in her eyes, but the look in them wiped the smirk off his face. It was a searching, probing, penetrating look, seeking something only she knew.

"You didn't fetch the towel," she said.

"I told you, I want to look at you." Now he knew what he wanted with her. He wanted to see her squirm in front of him. He wanted to see those sharp eyes veiled by her dark lashes. He wanted to see those strong lips quivering in fear and more. He wanted to tame her. He wanted—Hades, he just wanted her.

"Turn around," he said again.

Without realizing it, he had used his imperial voice, the voice that once sent senators and soldiers scrambling to do his bidding, the tone that once sent concubines and prostitutes to their knees. Yet Daphne barely even blinked. Still keeping her eyes on him, she got to her feet and stood facing him. Before Geta could take a good look at her, or indeed even feel the thrill of having won, she raised her hand, removed the pins holding her hair, and, with one shake of her head, covered herself with its dark mass. Then she picked up her things and stalked away, her head held high, her hair streaming behind her like a cape.

Alone on the hillside, Geta watched her disappear into the hut. He didn't quite understand what had just happened. Somehow Daphne had bested him, though at what, he couldn't tell.

***

She shouldn't have talked about Galen, Daphne reflected, as she sat by the kitchen table in her chiton, combing out her damp hair. It had brought back so many memories, both sweet and painful, and they, in turn, had stirred up her feelings so much that her mind became muddled. Why else had she—had she—why, she'd practically exposed herself to a man, a stranger!

Her cheeks flushed when she remembered the moment by the cistern again. So he'd wanted to look at her, hadn't he? Well, she hoped he'd had his fill.

Once she'd gotten her clothes on, Romulus had slunk in after her and gone to bed without a word. At least he'd had the grace to look embarrassed. Daphne wanted to feel embarrassed as well, but the heat burning her up from the inside was quite different from shame.

She had been feeling that heat for a while now, ever since that morning they watered the garden together, perhaps even before that, ever since that disastrous day her father came looking for her and Romulus had pulled her into his arms. But it was definitely after the morning in the garden, when she started to notice how his eyes followed her with an unmistakable look, how his hands lingered on her, how he found every excuse to touch her or brush up against her. The fool probably didn't even know he was doing it.

Daphne knew she ought to feel offended, but somehow, she couldn't muster up the outrage. It certainly wasn't the first time she received such looks of lust from men, and certainly wasn't the first time she felt some stirrings within her either—after all, she was a healthy woman, past her prime perhaps, but not so old as to be completely devoid of want and urges. Only she'd had so few chances to pursue those urges. She wouldn't pretend that she had been celibate since Galen's death, but her love life in the past eight years had consisted mostly of quick, largely anonymous encounters with travelers who passed through the village or whom she met on her own travels, never with anyone so close to home. It was bad enough that her father was the village's drunk; she didn't need to gain a reputation as a trollop as well.

Sometimes, she wished she could remarry and not worry about her reputation, but she couldn't give up her independence, no matter how precarious it was, for such flimsy security. Most men looked at her and only saw a widow, an easy mark for their lust, nothing more. The Adala scribe was the only man whose intentions had been serious and honorable, but he had wanted her to move to town with him after they married, and she couldn't leave her hut and her work to become a housewife. And of course, there were the potential husbands that her father kept throwing at her, but most of them were his drinking and gambling cronies, and that would simply be trading one kind of prison for another.

But with Romulus, it was different. Since Galen, she had never spent so much time, close, intimate time, with a man who was not family. True, she didn't know anything about where he came from or who his people were, and he was exasperating and suspicious and possibly dangerous. Yet there was something in his eyes, something infinitely sad that sent stirrings to her heart, quite different from the stirrings that his touches and his looks sent to her loins. He tried to hide it beneath his usual scowl, but she could see it, perhaps because she often felt that sadness herself. It made her want to reach out to him, hold him, comfort him, and have him comfort her.

And then tonight... She had never talked about Galen with anyone, only her grandmother, who had been a widow herself and understood not just the grief but also the fear of finding oneself without a place, without a purpose, the disappointment of having to return to one's parents and going from being a wife to being a daughter again. Romulus probably didn't understand it, but he'd tried, by Hera, he'd tried. When he put his hand over hers, she'd almost burst into tears. It had been so long since anyone held her hand. Such a simple gesture, but it had endeared him to her forever. It didn't help that his back was there, so broad and sturdy, and the hollow between his shoulder blades was just the right shape for her to place her cheek. The moment their skins touched, a sudden wave of desire had crashed over her and settled everywhere—in her chest, her veins, and between her legs—burning with such a fire that it frightened her.

That was why she'd gone to the cistern. She'd thought that a cold bath would quench that fire.

It hadn't.

She'd heard him shuffling down the garden path, of course. She'd known he was standing there, watching her. And so she'd called out to him, just to see what he would do. Only when he hadn't done anything, she'd let her fear win and covered herself up again.

Daphne glanced at the closed door to the bedroom. What was he doing behind it? Asleep, or thinking of her as well? Back at the cistern, what would she have done if Romulus hadn't simply stood there and watched her with those dark, dark eyes? If he had pulled her into his arms, if he had kissed her, if he had done more than that, would she have welcomed it?

She asked herself all these questions, and the answer was "yes" to all of them. She liked him, for all his moods and mysteries. And—for Daphne was honest and pragmatic—there was the reason of convenience as well. Nobody knew Romulus was staying with her, and he would soon be gone, so a tryst with him would pose no threat to her way of life or her reputation as a respectable widow.

The fire continued to rise within her. She pushed the tip of her hairpin into her palm and pressed her knees together, trying to find some pressure for relief, but there was none. There was only the fire, pooling, pulsing in her lower belly.

Well, who would judge her? Not the dead. Not Galen, who had kissed her so tenderly before he left for Caledonia and told her not to wait for him. Not her grandmother, who Daphne believed had taken plenty of lovers herself after her own husband passed away from swamp fever, making her a widow at twenty-five with two young children. As for the living... they couldn't judge what they did not know.

She dropped the hairpin onto the table, letting her hair flow free. Then she got up, strode across the room in a few decisive steps, and opened the door to the bedroom.

The moon was dipping low now, leaving the lamp in the front room as the only source of illumination. Romulus was in bed but not asleep. She could tell he wasn't asleep, because even in the dim glow of the lamp, she saw his shoulders tense up the moment the door creaked open. But he didn't move, didn't turn around. He lay still as a statue, his face to the wall, breathing slowly, expectantly.

She took another step into the room. "Romulus?" she called. Her throat was dry. She swallowed, and swallowed again. "Could you help me unfasten my chiton, please?" she said. "The pin is stuck."

He turned around and sat up. He looked at her then, really looked at her, fixing his eyes on her instead of just stealing glances over his shoulder and behind tree branches. She doubted he could see much with the light of the lamp behind her, but she could see him, and the look in those dark, unfathomable eyes took her breath away and pinned her to the spot.

He got up and came over to her side. He didn't ask why she was taking her chiton off after she had just bathed. He didn't say a word. Silently, he fumbled with the pin on her shoulder. There was a tiny ping of the pin coming free, and the linen drape fell down, baring her breast. She heard him suck in a breath.

"The other side too," she told him. The other pin came off, and her chiton fell to the floor with a soft swish. They were standing close now, so close, close enough that she could feel the heat coming off him. She wondered if he could hear her heartbeats, which were so fast that she couldn't breathe.

His own breath felt hot against her neck. One of his hands closed about her waist, steering her to the bed, while with his other hand, he shut the door, plunging the room into darkness. She could no longer see anything, only feel his fingers stroking her, scorching on the cool skin of her belly and her thighs, feel the coarse linen sheets under her back and the softer linen of his tunic against her taut breasts, making her long for his hand, or better yet, his mouth there, and then feel the heat and weight of his body as he pulled the tunic up and pushed into her.

A small cry escaped her, more from surprise than pain. It didn't stop him, and she was glad, for she did not want him to stop.

Memories of her wedding night came to her mind then, unbidden—she a girl of seventeen, her poor Galen only a year older, the two of them giggling together, nervous and giddy. They'd planned to get married, but not for another year or two, until they had saved up enough money to properly start a life together. They'd thought they would have all the time in the world. What fools! That spring, Galen had been conscripted, and when they learned the ban on marriage for soldiers had been lifted, they had hastened to get married, not wanting to wait until Galen came back gods knew when. Even then, it hadn't occurred to either of them that he might not come back. They had been too young, too full of hope. It was a quick ceremony, witnessed by her grandmother and Master Kavos, who no doubt had been dragged there by the old woman on threats of death. Then Galen had carried Daphne over the threshold of his hut as traditions dictated, while her grandmother chastised them both for laughing.

Three days later he'd left, and six months later came the news he had been killed somewhere in the cold and faraway hills of Caledonia. Galen had been an orphan and left no will, and when some distant cousin turned up and kicked Daphne out of the hut, she'd had no choice but to go back to her parents. If it hadn't been for her grandmother, she would have been living with her parents still, with a heart full of grief and a barren belly, for they had not been together long enough for Galen to give her a child.

Three days. Only three days they'd had, just long enough for her to know what it was like to share her bed with someone else, but not long enough for her to memorize his shape or his touch.

None of her other lovers had reminded her of Galen. So why did Romulus? Why was her body rising to him as if it had always known him? Why did his touch, clumsy yet so confident, stir in her such a familiar fire? Why did her legs fit around his waist and her heels dig into the back of his thighs as if they were made to be there, why did her arms wrap around his back, pressing him to her as hard as he was pushing into her? And why, when he finished, leaving her with only a shimmering sweetness that hovered just beyond the edge of her skin, did she cling to him, wanting more?

But he was already retreating from her, body and mind. She held on to him, running her hand through his hair, damp with sweat, searching for his mouth, wanting to plant a kiss there, to seal this connection, this intimacy they'd just shared, but he turned away, and the kiss landed on the side of his neck instead. He pushed her off, as though her kiss was a bee's sting, and sat away from her, pulling his tunic down.

She lay there for a moment, sweat cooling on her skin, chilling her despite the warmth of a summer night, while he sat at the edge of the bed, a dark shape in the dark room, a stranger once more.

So he wasn't any different from her previous lovers then. Just another man.

When the silence became unbearable, she got up with a sigh, collected her chiton from the floor, and went into the front room.

The fire was reduced to embers, so she stoked it up and put the kettle on. While the water was heating, she cleaned herself up, put on a fresh tunic, and dug around the shelves until she found the jar of wild carrot seeds. It was running low—she must remember to gather more this autumn—but there should be enough, as long as none of her patients needed to get rid of an unwanted pregnancy. She ground up a handful of seeds in her mortar and added it to a cup of boiling water. Then, sipping the drink, she retreated to her cot, watching the garden outside the window under the murky half-light of the setting moon. A part of her hoped he would come and join her, but another part of her was relieved that he didn't. He was a stranger, she reminded herself. He would be gone soon. It would not do to get attached to him. What had just happened between them was an act of impulsion and empty passion, born out of loneliness, nothing more.

The Romans did use wild carrot seeds as a sort of "morning after" pill. I chose it instead of the more commonly known herbal remedy of pennyroyal because apparently wild carrot seeds are safer. Don't quote me on that though!

I'm taking a break from Christmas through to the New Year, but I will be back in a couple of weeks. Thank you for all your support so far, and see you guys soon!

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