#like he really did all that that’s wild | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

noxvigil · 2 days ago

Text

They had been very adamant about his choices...

Just as he had been, after gazing upon the lot hiding behind his back. Complexions of all sorts adorning their faces, ages of all sorts and upgringings as varied as their skin tones, hairs and eyes. Eyes whose concern and fear lied to their wavering resolution to seem strong. A thing to which he merely smiles warmly, solacing them with the acknoledgement of the situation as he ruffles the hair of one.

He knew they wouldn't budge down, but neither would he. And if he was honest? all of this had little matter to him, for he knew, just as he had done before, he would do now. In the face of the arcane members of the council. A face he bothers not gazing unto as he huffs towards the displeased sound of the younger individual, bah, that one hadn't even earned his place as he had, as those he mentored had.

No, he wouldn't bother with the council's gaze on him, even if it was protocol to face them. No, right now he had a higher priority, and that one, just as it had been the first time, was the same. To ensure the younger generations he had taken would not find themselves distressed with the action to plead his taking of their formation. Magic, as such age, was highly impressionable, after all. And he would be damned if he let their magics be traumatised by their own elders into rejection and abandonment, just because they had trouble teaching them with their special needs.

" One, old man, One you are to mentor personally. " the youngest said, eyes narrowed with annoyance he finally faces when he clears his throat into ordering his gaze be returned to him " You know our rules, a council member shall only take one apprentice, as suppossed by our traditions and laws, at the most, if the situation asks for it, 2. We had given you once leave for 8 in the name of the spectacular occassion they were of the same breed of wild magic as yours, and that they had only answered to your lessons well. But we will not agree for this time. Not 15. that was your only allowance, and besides, you are far too old to be taking so many and all these ages. Magic has granted you good timmings for aging, but that won't be enough anymore... then it was possible, but now it is not. "

Most members on the council nod, to which he snorts and crosses his arms, eyebrow lightly lifting in question with his one blinded eye gazing deeply into them. Age, really? Such a jest. He could take on his former apprentices all together still, and continued to be a terryifying authority to be in presence with to them. If anything he still was in his bronze and cuprine ages of service as one of the oldest active war-sorceror veterans. He could still, easily, do this.

Not like he would do it alone either, if he was honest. He had his wife and own children to help mentoring and herding them... as well as his former apprentices, who, he may add, also had grown quite fond of a number of them. And even seemed to be slowly following his steps into taking the nurturing mentor mantle on their own.

" I was not aware I was too old yet to serve, my fellow companions on the seat. Am I to be dismissed from service then? When did the council decide of this? " He begins, harshly. Cold and hard in tone as the northern blizzards of his hometown in winter, a single hand moving to brush aside the young council member from retorting to his words. He was not done. " I shall answer my own question, young man, for I know the response to my own inquire better than you know this system you have merely been inherited into: I am not, and for the comfort and advantages of others, it won't be for a a while more. Specially when I happen to give you what you direly need and I damningly loathe to deliver this way. "

" If you loathe this caritative and selfless work so much, then why do you insist on appealing at our court and give us your precious presence and time, Warlord? " One of the eldest inquires on his own, to which he turns with a light tilt. " One would think, with your generally tight schedules and activities, you would desire less work and more time for yourself and your own blood. As one would in our age. "

" I would, were it not your failure to your own people. "

" I believe they were not left upon the streets as orphans, and the orphanage for the arcanely gifted does, in fact, still teach them lessons. " Another intervenes, before blows to prides could start. " They would not be left to their own, as it had almost happened to your previous apprentices. "

" NOW, and yet even then, their mentorships would be subpar to those officially taken under patrons and paid for in their schooling on the arcane arts... and considering their needs, that won't be enough for them to properly realize into functional members. " he counters. " Do you expect me to stand idly by and let them drown on their own struggles for your own convenience or my own? No. Until you address and come up with a functional system to deal with orphans of unexpected prowess yet unconventional academic needs, and stop leaving them to fend for their own until they, somehow, survive long enough to come upon my doorsteps to plead their life. "

" We are already formulating methods to this issue- "

" They don't have time for the making of plans, or the process of seeing them start. With all due respect, archwizard. " He interjects, shaking his head to ignore the frown of the offending words. If not disruption of the place of dialogue of the other elder. " They need solutions now, before this causes the repercussions you had to bear with on my previous apprentices. They might not be wild or feral mages, nor on their scale. But I know where this will lead to. Even a wild fox can be a threat to the livestock as much as wolves can. If you can't yet, then I will be taking care of my 17 apprentices myself. "

" You would be breakin- "

" 17? we were informed of 14, You speak us of 15... but now tell us of 17?, where did you find these 3 new children? " One of the older females asks, eyes furrowed unto confusion. " Care to ellaborate? Warlord? "

" I will, on the condition my case is pleaded upon my favor, my lady, and that you hear my exchange of conditions and methodology for the 17 children under my care... otherwise I fear I will take this towards the king himself to plead my case. "

" ... "

" Arlaena, you can't be jesting! Are you really considering his words. "

" You both know the outcome of such a thing. "

" The king can't overrule our decision! this is our law and tradition! "

" and yet, we both know he will favor him, after mentoring his heir. "

Silence fall upon the hall.

" Very well then, but we will amend your methods to follow our orthodox ways, if we see need of it so. Old warlord. "

" This is ridic- "

" I wouldn't expect any less, archpriest. "

"you know you are only supposed to have 1 apprentice maybe 2 not 15." said the wizard council member "well until people stop leaving surprisingly powerful orphans at my doorstep I'll be taking care of my 17 apprentices." The council member snapped their wand "WHERE DID YOU GET 3 MORE!"

#explorative writtings #View upon the arcane dark lords past #the northern lord of war

7K notes · View notes

woso-dreamzzz · 10 hours ago

Text

Second Time's The Charm: Christmas

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: Christmas in the STTC Universe

"Alexia!" Mapi shrieks," Alexia! Stop ignoring me! Alexia!"

Alexia hums to herself, hunched over her phone as she scrolls through another website.

Mapi, however, forces her way through mountains and mountains of stacked boxes to get to the other side of the room.

The locker room is covered in boxes from top to bottom with some even crammed into areas that they really shouldn't be able to be forced into.

"Ale! Alexia!"

Alexia looks up in shock. "Oh! Mapi! When did you get here?"

"About ten minutes ago! Which you would know if you didn't have this place stocked up like the back room of a shoe shop!"

Alexia frowns. "What do you mean? There's only five boxes of shoes here."

"I wasn't being literal!" Mapi snaps before massaging her temples with her hands. "What is all this stuff?! And why is it here?!"

"They're presents," Alexia says it like Mapi's dumb," For Christmas."

"Obviously but why are they here?"

"Well, I couldn't leave them at home. Maya's in that exploring stage so she'd get curious and try to look through them. And Elena's learning to crawl and this stuff would just get in way."

"So you thought that you would put all the presents for your whole family in here? With us?"

"No," Alexia scoffs," Don't be silly, Mapi."

"This is only temporary then? Thank god because I-"

"This is only Maya's gifts. Elena's are in one of the meeting rooms and y/n's are hidden at Alba's...Mapi? Are you okay? Your face is turning an odd colour."

Mapi's dramatic walk off is hindered somewhat by smacking her nose straight into a pile of boxes and nearly falling back into another one but, eventually, she manages to storm out and straight upstairs to your office.

You're sitting in your desk chair, looking through player health files or something when the door is slammed open.

"Your wife is crazy!"

"And hello to you too, Mapi. Come on in!"

"Crazy!" Mapi repeats, pacing in short, aggravated circles," She's crazy! The locker room is covered! Covered! In Christmas presents for your daughter! You have to get her to stop!"

You don't have a time to reply because the door swings open again and Alexia bursts in.

"Amor!" She cries," I found the cutest little booties for Elena! Look! Look!"

"No..." Mapi says softly," No...This-This can't be happening..."

"They're so cute!" You tell Alexia with equal enthusiasm," She'll love them so much! Order them! Order them!"

Alexia types in the delivery address and her card details and orders it happily before looking up.

"Where did Mapi go?"

It's a question that neither of you really dwell on that much as you show Alexia your own present ideas.

Wrapping the presents the night before isn't an easy task and you get the feeling that you and Alexia might have gone just a bit overboard. It's only a fleeting thought as you and Alexia wrap the boxes and tie them off with bows, writing sweet messages to your daughters on them even though neither of them can read just yet.

"We're all sleeping together tonight, right?" Alexia asks as she finishes off her last present, placing it in Elena's sizable pile.

"Us and the girls, definitely," You agree," I'm not sure if you'll get all the dogs and Mr Stinky in bed with us."

Mr Stinky looks up from his spot on the special pillow that's reserved just for him on the sofa. The tumours on his body have gotten much bigger now and he's getting weaker and weaker by the day.

He's got one more scan to come back to see if anything can be done but this could be his very last Christmas.

"Mr Stinky won't mind," Alexia assures you," He loves cuddling in our bed."

"And Lady?"

"Lady loves cuddling too!"

"And Sinky and his sisters?"

Alexia purses her lips. The puppies are still a bit wild and excitable at times, none of them ever content to just stay in one place even though the bed is more than big enough for everyone to fit into it.

"We'll leave the bedroom door open," Alexia says sagely, nodding her head like she's just cracked the secrets of the universe," So they can come in if they want."

"Alright," You say, standing up and stretching your back," I'm going to bring Mr Stinky up and then grab Elena. You'll let the dogs out one last time and get Maya?"

Alexia nods, drawing you back for a moment by your waist to press a kiss to your lips.

"I will, amor."

"Good," You say," And hurry up."

Alexia nods along with a smile, already heading to open the back door for the dogs.

Your footsteps approaching again makes Alexia turn and you speak directly in her ear.

"And I've got a very special present for you tomorrow when the girls have gone to sleep."

"Oh?"

You giggle right in her ear, low and sultry. "You're going to have a lot of fun unwrapping me for Christmas."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

365 notes · View notes

vibelladonna · 3 days ago

Text

✑ 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── ·

Didn't expect me to write more about Sol, did you? Honestly, I needed to do more research into his character, after all, since I kinda ignored him in the game as soon as Crowe showed up. Like, no wonder he did what he thought he had to do.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

I mixed a bit of canon and my headcanons for Crowe and Sol in this one—yep, once again! This time, I kept it focused on just four kinks to keep it short and sweet. I'm still learning about the BDSM community, and honestly, it's been really eye-opening.

A close friend (college roommate: adding on the fact she adores Sol—Sorry not sorry, love) of mine has been super helpful, sharing and explaining things about the BDSM scene to add more depth to my writing.

A lot of my inspiration comes from her, along with the Tumblr fanfic community and the original creator's work. I try to blend what feels true to the characters while throwing in my own twist. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Starting, I’ve noticed that TKATB fans have their unique preferences when it comes to Sol or Crowe.

For example, fans who gravitate toward Sol tend to enjoy the idea of him being dominant—whether it’s being in control of him or just envisioning him taking charge. It’s that mix of power and intensity that gets people excited. You know who you are, you freaks!

On the other hand, fans of Crowe are drawn to his reliability, his deep understanding, and his caring nature. He’s willing to guide you through anything, offering both emotional support and strength. It’s comforting, isn’t it? And yes, I’m a freak too—I get it.

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Naturally, I had to start with my man—Jericho, or Crowe, as he's known. He exudes a mysterious, almost savior-like presence, though the details are still unclear. I WANNA KNOW SO BAD.

His style is effortlessly sharp, and his quiet confidence makes him instantly trustworthy. Reliable, steady, and composed, Crowe is the perfect support when life feels overwhelming. His charm is subtle, blending good looks with an alluring personality—irresistible, without ever being flashy.

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Crowe as kinky?

At first glance, no. Not. To a stranger, he’s too put together, with not even the faintest hint of anything unconventional beneath the surface. But as you get to know him, that answer begins to shift. Slowly, subtly, he reveals a side of himself that hints at complexity—an edge just beneath his polished exterior. However, don’t expect anything extreme or overtly wild.

What he does reveal is never too much but always just enough to leave you captivated—and maybe, just maybe, a little curious.

✑ Vanilla (Soft Dom…)

For Crowe preferences!

He's the ultimate soft, warm partner. Like, you just know he's all about the quiet, comforting vibes. No crazy power dynamics or rough kinks—he's all about that steady, affectionate love. It's Vanilla, but in the best way possible, full of layers. He’s not rushing anything, just enjoying the little things, taking his time, and making sure you feel heard and cherished.

When you're with him, it's all slow and gentle—he’s not here for intense extremes. His love is patient, thoughtful, and wrapped in warmth. Every touch, every word, is like a soft caress, just so deliberate and tender.

And honestly? There's no need for anything crazy. Crowe's happy to explore your connection, build that trust, and just savor the passion that grows naturally between you two. It's the kind of love that builds and lingers long after.

Now… Crowe might be a soft dom—nah he IS A SOFT DOM.

Crowe’s not the type to push you past your limits just for the thrill of it. He’s not into playing mind games or testing how far he can take things. No, Crowe’s power is the quiet kind, the kind that makes you feel safe without even having to try. He knows the real strength is in taking care of someone, not in forcing them into anything they’re not ready for.

When you’re with him, it’s like he’s always tuned into you, always listening, always aware of exactly what you need. He’s the guy who doesn’t take, but gives—gives you everything he can, with a level of care that’s almost overwhelming. And even though he’s gentle, don’t get it twisted—he’s still a tease. He’s the kind of man who’ll leave marks on your skin, a subtle reminder that you're his. But it's all in the way he leads, in that steady hand that takes yours, guiding you through every little moment.

There’s nothing loud about Crowe—other than his moans and whining. I SWEAR he has pretty moans.

He doesn’t demand anything and doesn’t rush you, but he has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. When he touches you, it’s with a confidence that leaves you breathless but also comforted. He’ll press his forehead against yours, his hand guiding yours down to your stomach, just so you can feel his bulge inside you,how much he wants you, how much he’s thinking about you at that moment.

There’s no need for words—just that connection, that intense eye contact that says everything.

But yeah, he’ll also let you think you have the upper hand for a minute. Let you believe you’ve got him cornered, like you're finally taking control… only for him to flip the switch, regaining control without you even realizing.

With Crowe, it’s not about begging or pleading for pleasure—it’s about your happiness, your satisfaction. His version of dominance is the kind that wraps around you like a warm blanket, soft and cozy. He just wants to see you smile, hear you laugh—moan, and whine under him, and know that every moment spent with him is full of happiness.

So, if you're into a soft dom who values deep emotional connection, tenderness, and affection, Crowe’s your man! He just wants you to trust him, to let go and let him care for you. Let him be there for you in every single way, in every moment.

And in that, he gives you all the security you’ll ever need.

✑ Praise (giving + receiving)

Crowe is all about Praise, and affection through words. Imagine him pulling you close, whispering in your ear while his fingers gently trace patterns along your skin.

“You’re such a good girl for me, look at how well you take me, love. That’s my girl, always so ready for me, aren’t you?” His words make you feel safe, wanted, and cherished.

He doesn’t wait for you to ask for reassurance—he gives it freely, letting you know how much he appreciates having you around, and how much he loves seeing you smile. And when it comes to your body? He knows every inch of it like he’s got a personal map of your every curve and spot. He might even joke, “No one will ever know you like I do. I’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t I?”

Crowe has this vibe about him, like he’s always hungry to make sure you're feeling amazing, but don’t forget to show him some love, too. He thrives on hearing you praise him, especially when you whisper how much you need him, and how much he’s doing for you. The sound of your voice, the words you say—they get to him, melt him down until his heart's pounding.

Now and then, he’ll pull back, checking in on you, “You okay? Am I pushing you too far?” It’s not just about the rush for him. He wants you to be comfortable, to be in sync with him as he takes you through everything, slow and steady, giving you all that love. “That’s it, you're doing so well,” he’ll say, his voice smooth like syrup, making sure you know you're adored.

But here’s the thing: if you keep praising him, or if you’re the one in control, just wait. Crowe’s mouth? It’ll get filthy. AND I MEAN FILTHY. He can’t help it, don't be mean now...

I mean, you can. You giving him head? Taking his cock deep inside your throat, feeling he's about to cum, then you pulled back, teasing him. He'll say, "Please, my love, you were doing so good on my cock—please, please, keep going, I need that tongue of yours."

One of his favorite things is when you’re so into it that he can just forget what you say and speak directly to you, but in a way that’ll make your body react before your mind even catches up. Like, he’ll whisper, “God, you taste so damn good. Missed me, huh? Just wanna be filled up, don't you?”

His words drip against you, his eyes dark with heat, like he's speaking to your body, not even acknowledging your moans. “Such a good fucking pussy. Always making me feel so damn good. Want me to stuff you full, hm?”

And when it’s all done? Crowe doesn’t just drop it and move on. He’s got aftercare down to an art. He’ll guide you through it, keep you close, making sure you’re okay, settled, and cared for, getting ready to do it all again whenever you’re ready!

✑ Experimentalist

Crowe is the kind of man who never wants to leave any stone unturned, especially when it comes to experiences.

There was something about him that screamed experimentalist—like he needed to try everything, no matter how wild or unconventional. When it came to relationships, he was always up for anything, which meant he'd probably had more relationship experiences than most people you knew.

His mind is open, impossibly so, and he had an insatiable curiosity that could never be satisfied. He’d never form an opinion on something without diving in and getting his first-hand taste. If there was something new to try, something out-of-the-box—Crowe was there, ready to explore.

And honestly? He didn’t even need you to ask twice. If you suggested something wild, he’d be all in—his enthusiasm infectious, his curiosity never-ending.

However, he's pretty vanilla when it comes to experimenting, so don't expect him to go TOO hardcore. If there's a kink suited to his taste and he masters it? Oh, Babe, you'll feel it—so much in fact.

Take ropes, for example. Blindfolds? Handcuffs? Oh, he is intrigued. But, again, don’t expect anything brutal. He isn't the type to be into floggers or paddles; no, pain isn't needed for his skills. It is his anticipation. The slow burn of him carefully tying you up, not in a rush, but with the kind of patience that made every moment last longer.

When his hands hovered over your skin, it wasn’t just touch—it was electric. He’d make sure to linger, let his fingers graze over every inch, just enough to make you shiver, your breath hitching in the air between you. It wasn’t about hurting you, not at all. No, it was all about the build-up—the moment when the ropes or restraints were placed just so, tightening the tension between you both until it was practically unbearable.

And then? When you finally let go, it was a release so sweet and steady that it left you breathless. No rushing, no quick fixes—just a slow, fulfilling pleasure.

Adding on, Crowe loved the idea of restraint. Whether for fun, for art, or for that extra little spark of excitement, there was something about having you completely at his mercy.

And if you ever flipped the script? If he was the one getting tied up? Like I said, Crowe will be just as filthy when he lets his guard down.

✑ Dacryphillia

Okay, hear me out. I know what you’re thinking—"Crowe? He would never hurt me. Why would he want to see me cry?" And I get it, really. This is one of those wild ideas but just stick with me for a second.

You know how he’s all about emotions and deep connections, right? Get it?

He gets this deep fascination with what you feel and show, especially when it’s raw. Here’s where it gets interesting: Dacryphilia. Yeah, I’m talking about that thing where someone gets... well, aroused by tears, by the sound of you sobbing, the whole mess of emotions.

So, let’s imagine this: You’re begging him, pleading for more. Your face is a mess of emotions, eyes watery, tears rolling down your cheeks. And yeah, he’s gonna ask if you’re okay because that’s the kind of man he is—always checking, always making sure. But if you keep begging for more? Oh, that’s when it gets dangerous.

Each desperate plea of yours, each tremor in your voice, just fuels this fire inside him, an all-consuming fire. His eyes? They’re practically glowing, deep blue, and locked on you like he's drowning in you, in every little thing you’re feeling.

You can feel him there, so close you can almost taste his breath on your skin. His lips brush against your ear, a soft, teasing whisper sending shivers down your spine. "So desperate for me already, huh? We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet..." His voice is low, and dangerous, like he’s savoring every second of this.

You know he’s enjoying this. Every inch of him is hooked, and once he has you like this, there’s no going back.

Crowe’s could be teasing you for what feels like hours, driving you wild with a mix of pleasure and frustration. He’s pulled every bit of sensation from you, your body trembling with each orgasm, each touch—until you’re left aching for more. You’ve come undone on his fingers, his tongue, but now, you’re desperate in a way that makes your chest ache. You need him, inside of you, filling you up, but he’s holding back. Just barely, he brushes against you, grinning at the whine that slips from your lips.

His head teases your entrance, and you can’t stop yourself from begging, voice shaky, "Please... Please, please." You repeated. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as they fall helplessly. The emptiness without him feels unbearable.

Crowe tilted his head, the smirk on his face practically dripping with playful mockery. “Just please?” He dragged the word out slowly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Tell me what you want. Can’t do anything unless you say it. What is it you’re begging for?” His hand slid up your stomach, hand pushing lightly as if testing the waters.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, the playful glint in his eyes shifting into something darker, more calculating. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His grin stretched wider as you stumbled over your words, desperate and disordered, pleading for more. He could tell you were unraveling, and it only pushed him further, each whimper was like a small victory.

“You’re falling apart, love,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need... just say the word.” You could barely focus as the desperation built into your chest. His control over you was unnerving, yet exhilarating. The tears on your cheeks were a mix of frustration and need, a silent scream for him.

“I need you, Crowe. Please...” Your voice was broken, but he was the one who was in control, studying the way you reacted like a willing experiment.

Crowe’s hand lifts gently to your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears streaming down your face. He gives you a soft grin, his voice low and teasing. “Already crying for me, huh?” he murmurs, almost amused. His thumb, slick with your tears, slips past your lips, letting you taste the salty remnants of your emotions. "We’ve just started," he adds, a soft chuckle escaping him.

Before you can respond, his hips jerk forward, pushing into you with one swift, forceful motion. The shock of it makes your breath catch, and Crowe can’t help but smirk, his eyes glinting with that dangerous, experimental gleam.

Every move, calculated and deliberate, is part of his twisted exploration. And you? You’re the willing subject.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol is described as a “stinky basement-dwelling yandere”—ngl, this alone made me laugh. He’s a quiet kid, the one who lingered at the edges of every room, observing, never quite fitting in.

Beneath his reserved exterior was a complexity most couldn’t fathom. He’s incredibly smart, with a sharpness that slipped through his words when he spoke, though he rarely bothered to. His talents leaned toward the arts, paintings, and writings.

And yet, at the end of the day, Sol isn’t exactly smooth. He was hopelessly inexperienced when it came to relationships. He gets no bitches, and honestly, he probably doesn’t even try. But in his inexperience is a certain rawness, and once you did get to know him, he’ll flirt or charm you. But before, he just watched and wanted.

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Sol as kinky?

Yes, let’s not sugarcoat it—he is kinky asf. Of course, he is. There was no way someone as quiet and repressed as Sol didn’t have a horny side, one he tried to keep buried but couldn’t fully hide due to his love for you.

✑ Switch (A Pervert…)

Now, about Sol’s... preferences.

From reading his relationship information card and playing the game. He is a paradox, a Switch in every sense of the word. He didn’t neatly fit into the mold of “always dominant” or “forever submissive.” Oh no, that would be far too mundane for someone like him. He's not a standard yandere people.

Sol is a man of extremes, a “pervert” in the most endearing, shameless sense of the word. He believed in living freely, without the shackles of societal expectations or traditional constraints. Ethics, morality, conventional roles—he’d toss them aside without hesitation if they stood in the way of his desires.

When he takes the reins as Dominant, Sol is the type to lean into theatrics, pushing boundaries with a devilish grin and that mischievous gleam in his eyes. He had a talent for making the experience unforgettable, for making you feel as though the entire world had melted away, leaving only the two of you. But when the tables turned, when Sol found himself in the more submissive role, he’d throw himself into it with equal fervor.

He’d challenge you to prove your worth, tease and push until you stepped up to the plate, and then—when you finally did—he’d surrender so completely that it'll feel like a victory worth savoring.

To Sol, sex and relationships weren’t just about power dynamics or tradition. They were a playground for exploration, a place where the only rule was to follow what felt right. With his “anything goes” mentality, Sol turned every interaction into a kaleidoscope of passion and unpredictability.

As mentioned, Sol, can’t help himself when it comes to you.

Let’s say he has this thing—Voyeuristic Disorder, to be precise, a fancy word for being a pervert. Dosn't care to see anyone else naked. Only you he wishes to see. He was obsessed with watching you, whether you knew it or not. In public or private, it didn’t matter.

He just liked being there, lurking in the shadows, soaking in every moment. Watching you do the most intimate things, completely unaware that he was there.

There was something so exhilarating about seeing you—your bare skin, the way you moved, the little things you did when you thought no one was watching. He couldn’t resist. The way your body reacted, the sounds you made when you didn’t know he was there—it was all he needed.

Deadass, I’m shocked that the creator of the game never added a specific scene where you were taking care of yourself in bed—you freak, oblivious to him sneaking a peek from the window, his hand on his cock, jacking himself off, doing exactly what he does best. Watching.

He didn’t let societal norms dictate how he expressed himself or who he loved. He was unapologetically himself—messy, chaotic, and a little too intense for most people’s taste. But for those brave enough to step into his world, you, well, if you picked him, that is.

Sol will offer an experience unlike any other: one filled with unrelenting honesty, unbridled passion, and a love that refuses to be anything less than extraordinary.

✑ Praise (Receiving)

Sol isn't the type of man you’d peg as desperate for validation—at least, not at first glance. His sharp, confident exterior gave the impression of someone who had the world at his feet, who didn’t flinch under pressure or crack beneath judgmental stares.

But peel back the layers of this supposed nonchalant and cool type of man, and you’d find a truth that was much more human, much more raw. Sol craved praise. Why? Perhaps it was the lack of it throughout his life. His track record for romance was, let’s say, less than impressive. Not because he lacked charm or good looks—he had both in spades—but because his overbearing aura and unapologetic eccentricities tended to drive most people away.

They didn’t understand him, couldn’t see past the way he challenged conventions. He wore his "loser" title like armor. After all, who cared if he didn’t have admirers lined up at his door? He didn’t need anyone... right? Yet, when someone, such as you, did manage to offer him an honest compliment, something sincere, it was like watching a dam break.

His confident smirk would falter for a second, his eyes softening, betraying the vulnerability he worked so hard to conceal. Sol wasn’t accustomed to receiving love—real, genuine love—and when it came, it hit him like a truck

✑ Masochist

The first time you noticed Sol’s tendency to endure pain, you’d thought it was just his stubborn nature. He’s always been the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve when it came to you—raw, unfiltered, and unapologetically vulnerable. But as time went on, you began to see something deeper beneath that tough, rebellious exterior.

Sol wasn’t just someone who endured pain; he seemed to embrace it…? almost thrive on it, especially when it comes to you.

Sol is, without a doubt, a masochist. Not in the twisted, sadistic sense, but in an almost heartbreaking way. He’d do anything to please you, to earn your attention—even if it meant enduring the unendurable.

He could never be a sadist. No, he loved you too much to ever inflict pain on you, physically or emotionally. The very thought of hurting you would make his stomach churn. Instead, he channeled all his devotion into being by your side, no matter the cost.

There were moments when his tendencies became painfully obvious. Like he gets into fights back to back, defending himself or you—for example, the movie theater bathroom or the Campus library (With or without.)

You hadn’t/have even been there to witness it—Sol hadn’t wanted you to see him like that, bruised and bloody. But when you found out later, he brushed it off with that crooked grin of his, the one that hid just how far he’d go for you. “It’s nothing,” he’d said, wiping the blood from his lip. “They deserved it for talking about you like that.”

Or that time with Crowe. It had been an innocent moment, just you laughing at something Crowe said, but to Sol, it might as well have been a dagger to his chest. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. He didn’t want to feel that way—jealousy mixed with self-loathing—but he couldn’t help it. Watching you walk away with someone else, even for a moment, was unbearable.

It wasn’t that he enjoyed the pain; it was just that he could handle it, even when it tore him apart inside.

And in the quiet, intimate moments, Sol’s masochistic streak became something else entirely. If you picked him willingly, He’ll trust you, and loved you, enough to let down every last defense he had. He didn’t just endure pain; with you, he could find meaning in it.

A sharp bite, nails dragging down his back—he shivered under your touch, his body responding in ways he didn’t fully understand but didn’t question. For him, it wasn’t just about the sensation; it was about the connection, the way it brought him closer to you.

Masochism, for Sol, wasn’t about pain tolerance. It wasn’t about how much he could take. It was about the way he found a strange, twisted kind of comfort in it. The pain wasn’t the point; it was the context, the giver—you. Sol would never seek out pain for its own sake, but if it was for you, if it meant being close to you, he’d endure anything.

Even in the game, he seemed to attract hardship like a magnet, always the one taking the hits—physically and emotionally. Whether it was the bullies who thought he was an easy target or the way he seemed to hurt himself just to prove his devotion to you, Sol carried it all with a quiet, unshakable resolve. Because, at the end of the day, it wasn’t about the pain. It was about you.

And he’d never stop. For Sol, loving you wasn’t just a choice—it was a part of who he was. If being close to you meant enduring the worst the world could throw at him, he’d take it all with a smile. Because that’s who Sol is. A damn masochist.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

✑ Somnophillia

It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Everyone could see this coming from a mile away—there was simply no other possibility. Sol, in all his twisted complexity, had long blurred the line between obsession and affection, his love taking on forms most would never dare to comprehend.

Some might accuse him of holding darker urges, like necrophilia, drawn to the lifelessness of the dead. But no, that isn’t Sol. Despite his obsessions, there was a deep-rooted sentimentality within him—a refusal to let go, to lose. If anything, he had made it clear in his own hauntingly poetic way: he’d rather die with you than live without you.

Yet, that didn’t mean his desires were any less unnerving. No, Sol’s particular brand of affection manifested in somnophilia, a fascination with the vulnerability of sleep, the beauty of your unconscious form. To him, those moments were sacred—your body relaxed, your mind adrift in dreams. It was when he felt closest to you, unguarded and free from the chaos of the waking world.

Before your relationship, it started innocuously enough—or so it seemed. He’d find ways to end up at your apartment, invited by some pretense or perhaps even through sheer charisma. And then, ever so subtly, he’d lace your drink with something to make you drowsy, to keep you from suspecting as his fingers ghosted on you.

You lay there, utterly still, utterly serene, your chest rising and falling with the kind of peaceful rhythm that seemed to still the chaos of the world around you.

It was maddening, the way you looked so untouched by the noise that haunted him, your lips slightly parted, the barest whisper of breath escaping them. Every exhale was a siren call, soft and unassuming, but it gripped him like a vice.

His gaze wandered, helplessly drawn down the curve of your cheek to your lips. They looked soft, and inviting in a way that felt almost cruel. He wanted to press his own to them, to taste whatever peace you’d found and see if he could borrow just a fraction of it for himself.

But it wasn’t just your lips. His eyes traced lower, following the lines of your body, the way your clothes clung to you, hinting at the form beneath. He shouldn’t be thinking like this—he knew he shouldn’t. And yet the thought of you, warm and pliant beneath him, invaded his mind, unrelenting.

He swallowed hard, trying to shake it off, but the more he fought, the more vivid the thoughts became. The sound of your soft sighs, the way you’d move under his touch, how you’d look at him—not like this, not sleepily and unaware, but awake, wanting.

God, he was losing it.

Sol leaned back, running a hand through his hair, forcing his gaze away from you for a moment. But it didn’t matter—your image was burned into his mind, and there was no escape. Watching you sleep was his guilty pleasure, though his guilt barely lasted long enough to stop him from pressing further.

Once the two of you were together, the dynamics shifted, but only slightly. Sol’s obsession deepened, and the lines of consent became more of a gray haze in his mind. To him, love was devotion—complete and all-encompassing. And if you loved him, shouldn’t you accept him entirely? Shouldn’t you trust him to care for you, even when you weren’t awake to see it?

He was careful, always so careful with you, so don’t worry!

His lips found their way to the sensitive curve of your inner thigh, his movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every second of this quiet moment. You stirred faintly, a sleepy whimper escaping your lips as the warmth of his mouth brushed against you, teasing and tender.

Sol’s hands gripped your hips gently but firmly; his fingers splayed across your skin to hold you in place. You tried to shift, your body instinctively responding to the soft, wet pressure of his tongue on your needy cunt, but his strength was unyielding.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper in the stillness. One hand slid up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering for a moment as he marveled at the serene expression you wore, so unaware of the devotion he poured into every touch. “You’re even more beautiful like this,” he breathed, his words an intimate confession meant only for the dark.

To Sol, this meant everything.

This was the essence of love itself—intimacy beyond words, a bond that transcended anything others could hope to understand. He wasn't like anyone else; he knew that, and perhaps that’s what made this feel so special. So sacred. There was a quiet possessiveness in the way he worshiped you, a deep yearning to etch himself into every corner of your being, to ensure no one else could ever touch the part of you that belonged to him.

And as you stirred again, a soft moan escaping your lips, Sol smirked against your skin, the faintest edge of smug satisfaction curling at the corner of his mouth. You might not fully wake, but you’d feel him—his touch, his adoration, eventually his cock. You’d know, even in sleep, that you were his world.

To be with him, you’d have to accept all of him. Every tender smile, every soft whisper... and every shadowed obsession that came with it.

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── ·

#the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back crowe #the kid at the back sol #solivan brugmansia #jericho ichabod #tkatb #tkatb crowe #tkatb sol #the kid at the back vn #crowe ichabod #crowe x reader #sol x reader #sol brugmansia #tkatb vn #tkatb smut

307 notes · View notes

robo-writing · 1 day ago

Note

hihi friend <3333 requesting something a little more different bc as someone who loves a good breeding kink (in form of dirty talk and dirty talk only!!) i still do not EVER want kids and cannot fathom the whole birth process. can i ask for what logan’s reaction would be a reader who doesn’t want kids?

maybe they’re not that established in their relationship and they’re fooling around (awink) and when logan brings out the breeding talk she just kinda panics and pushes him off/uses her safe word because she does NOT want kids

like i said kinda different but ur one of my fav logan writers and i can’t find anything like this so i wanted to request it 🫠 🫶🏼

As someone who also doesn’t want kids but has a massive breeding kink, real. (Also FAVORITE???? EEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKK)

Logan with an s/o who doesn’t want kids!

✦ To be entirely honest, Logan never thought of himself as a fatherly type, hell, he never thought of himself even staying in a relationship long enough to even have kids.

✦ You however, are the exception.

✦ He can see himself growing old for once, more importantly, he can see himself growing old with you.

✦ So is it surprising that somewhere along the line instead of just you and him, he started imagining a kid hanging off you too?

✦ He wouldn’t even know how to bring it up, and he’s still of the belief that he’d be a god awful father

✦ But if you’d have him, he’d try his damndest to be the best father a kids ever gonna have

✦ He doesn’t tell you that he’s even thought of having a kid, too afraid to bring it up in case you get scared

✦ But one night it accidentally slips out while he’s got you pinned under him

✦ It really was an accident, you just sounded so good and you were squeezing his cock just perfectly—

✦ Something inside him snaps, tears it’s way to the forefront of his mind, eyes fixated where his cock almost bulges against your stomach—

✦ Right where you’d be carrying his kid

✦ He bows over you, practically covers you with his body, head bent and panting into your ear like a wild animal.

✦ He’s not totally aware of himself, almost as if he’s a spectator; he feels everything, maybe even too much.

✦ You’re scratching at his back, moaning his name so pretty, begging him for more, more, don’t stop, please—

✦ It was an accident when he holds you by the hips, growls in your ear—not gonna stop, not until I’ve put a kid in you.

✦ You’re always the most beautiful thing he’s laid eyes on but for that moment, when you locked your legs and begged him to breed you, you looked like Aphrodite herself. The way you milked him for all he’s worth, he’s not sure he’ll ever reach a high like that again.

✦ The next morning he wakes up beside you, a dopey smile on his face when he sees the evidence of your love-making on every inch of you.

✦ His hickeys, fresh and dark, painted across your neck, all the way to your collarbone.

✦ Quite simply, you look like you got attacked

✦ However, even better than those was the proof of his love, your cum-stained thighs, just slightly spread apart as you slept.

✦ He won’t lie, it took him more than a bit of self-control not to take you again after seeing that.

✦ Lucky for him, your eyes fluttered open before he could pursue that train of thought.

“G’mornin’” you groan, stretching your very sore body. When you feel the remnants of last nights affairs on your skin it’s as if a switch is flipped, the slight frown on your face, the hesitant look you give as you quickly waddle to the bathroom—he did something wrong, he just doesn’t know what yet.

He waits until after the waters stopped, giving you a peace offering in the form of his t-shirts. It overshadows you, but it’ll do.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks nervously. Logan’s never been good at talking much, but he tries his best when it comes to you.

“No, no,” you deny, but it’s written on your face. You can barely look at him, fiddling with the ends of his shirt.

“You sure? Because you ran out of bed like a bat out of hell.”

Again, you can’t seem to keep your eyes on him. “It’s not you per se, I mean…”

“Say it,” he insists. “I can handle it.”

A pause. “Did you mean what you said last night?”

Even the mention of last night makes his body tingle, the remains of each and every memory fresh in his mind. There’s a lop-sided smile on his face when he answers, lackadaisical even. “I said a LOT of things last night darling, you’re gonna have to be specific here.”

You bit your lips nervously. “What you said about being pregnant.”

Oh, he thinks, and now the shoes finally dropped. At the time you seemed enthusiastic, but looking at you now…you look scared out of your mind.

He’s quick to move closer, inviting you to sit beside him with a couple taps to the bed. The moment you do he’s got you in his arms, making sure he can feel you relax before he says a word.

“Darling, be honest with me, do you want to have kids?”

You tense in his hold, both dread and fear evident in your voice. “I don’t know? Maybe in the future?”

“Maybe ain’t an answer.” He says, stroking your hair. “No need to lie.”

You should’ve known Logan would see right through you. You shake your head with a sigh, unwilling to look at him in fear of the disappointment you’re certain is painted on his features.

“…Not really, no. But if you wanted them—“

“Stop, don’t finish that,” he sighs. “If you don’t want kids, then that’s it. No kids.”

Shock, relief, a flurry of emotions take hold of you when you pull away, staring him down for any hint of dishonesty. Your heart soars when you don’t find any.

“Are you sure? Because it didn’t seem that way last night,” you stutter, and he’s quick to soothe your worries.

A quick peck to your lips, and he makes himself crystal clear. “Listen to me, I’m not gonna force ya to do something you don’t wanna do. If you don’t want kids then there’s nothing to worry about, I’m not an asshole.”

Your eyes almost water, the weight of fear lifting off your shoulders as you weakly chuckle. “Y’know, the amount of times I’ve had this conversation—it always ends in a break up. This is…really refreshing, honestly.”

“You’ve been dating a bunch of assholes,” he taunts, kissing your temple. “Don’t worry though, you’ve got me.”

“And you’re not an asshole?” You chuckle, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Mhm,” he mumbles. “Not to you, at least.”

As he does so, he makes it a point to pull you closer, bury his face into your neck and inhale. “Even if you don’t want kids, I still get to breed ya, right?”

#I’m gonna be honest I do not think this is my best work #but I have GOT to clean out my inbox #healthy heaping of smut/fluff tonight :3 #Robo writes #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut

164 notes · View notes

mannliker · 1 day ago

Text

gonna soapbox a bit about how well he’s written, ye’ve been warned.

for someone so focused on practicality and survival and being 1000% locked-in in life-or-death situations, being prepared for anything, contingency plans, etc, Batman can actually be unrealistic in that he is stubbornly idealistic about some things, more so than the outwardly less broody/intense characters like Nightwing.

He’s a brilliantly-written character, so unchanging yet also a rollercoaster inside with unexpected emotionality and unruly kindness that he tries to hide so well. His stubborn idealism is a main similarity between he and Superman, and it’s why, for their other personality differences, they get along so well. The difference is that Superman often wears his heart on his sleeve. Good thing it’s made of steel lol.

Anyway, agree with Batman’s ways or not, he’s got some of the best, most convoluted yet stubbornly-simple characterization.

Is his code sometimes faulty and he does some fucked-up shit, like when he brought Joker back to life, even after what he did to Jason? His Robin, his son?? Yes. Mayne if I was him I would have ripped joker a new one till that bitch stopped laughing for good. Some of the criminals he fights he really shouldn’t hold back on, man. In that way, is his code sometimes blindly idealistic? Yes. But do I love his character for it? Yes.

Is his absolutely undying passion admirable? Yes. And his stubbornness-to-the-point-of-optimism? Yes. Do I love his character for it? Yes yes.

I love a character that people can disagree and agree with so passionately. That I can both disagree and agree with at the same time. It means he’s written so fucking well.

And “Caped Crusader” like yes bro he is passionate he’s got a mission bro he is locked so far tf in on it at all times. That stubborn optimism and idealism has been a fundamental aspect of his character since day 1. It drives everything else he does, even the dark shit. Especially the dark shit.

..But yeah some of the dark shit he’s been on lately is crazy 💀 Like, uncharacteristic levels of questionable. I’m not even gonna bring up how fucked up the Zur-En-Arrh shit was. DC’s wild for that one fr

Alright well that’s it, I’m balls-deep in this hyperfixation right now and I could talk about it forever. I did warn ye, though. Lol

batman is an optimist. how much must i shout this fact into the void that is the internet before people realize. he is the biggest optimist in the universe. he is so insufferably compassionate, he is delusionally kind, his worldview is somehow more catholic than matt murdock because he believes in redemption even when hes lost everything over and over and over. gotham is a shithole that deserves to burn, rent is dirt cheap because nobody sane will live there by choice, and it’s crowning achievement is being the home to the biggest max security asylum on earth staffed by people so corrupt that villains escape every other day. and this stupid boy wrapped his mothers broken pearls around his fists like prayer beads and goes out to get his shit rocked every night for the past 20 years because he fell head over heels in love with said shithole city and its garbage residents, funnelling his wealth into the pit of endless greed because he hopes that a few cents will reach the pockets of those who need it

#FOR GOTHAM #it’s funny to me that gotham is in new jersey #and people are like #average city in new jersey #like the creators of gotham did it for the bit so many years before it was a bit #batman

1K notes · View notes

wndaswife · 2 days ago

Text

Love & Loathing: The First Christmas | Series Masterlist

The holidays feel lonely without your friends and family. Wanda faces her first Christmas after her divorce and miscarriage. The two of you build your first tradition.

Word count: 2635

Tags: some angst, light manipulation, foreshadowing of future toxic relationship as seen in main series, writing this after already writing the main series reminded me of emily im sorry by boygenius! sad!

Wanda’s cart came to an abrupt stop when a young child suddenly ran away from his mother to the other side of the aisle, passing in front of her without warning. Her orange juice lurched forward then fell onto her carrots.

The child’s mother quickly came over, scolding her son for running in front of a moving cart as he begged her to buy rainbow chip cookies for Santa, oblivious to the fact that Wanda and her full cart were still standing idly behind him, unable to skirt around.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized after giving in to the rainbow chip cookies once her son apologized to Wanda too. He went to place the package in their cart. “Holiday shopping makes them a little wild too, I suppose.” She laughed like she was telling her an inside joke.

Them, like a proper noun.

“Children, yes,” Wanda conceded with a small nod and a smile. “I understand. But rainbow chip is a great pick. Very considerate of Santa’s tastes.” She looked over at the young boy who waited for his mother patiently, then seemed bashful when he made eye contact with Wanda.

Wanda then noticed the woman’s eyes flicker down to her left hand, barren of a wedding ring, and then to her cart, empty of what a mother would shop for her children for. Wanda dropped her left arm to her side, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

After finishing up her grocery list, she strolled back down the cookie section and picked up a package of the rainbow chip cookies. As she walked to the checkout line, she ran her eyes across her cart — orange juice, the Pillsbury cookies you liked, eggs, milk, bagels, your favourite ice cream flavour, some things for the washroom, baking ingredients for a recipe you’d been wanting to try, some snacks, fruits and vegetables, and the rainbow chip cookies.

She put her left glove on first, then her right, then started to place her things on the conveyor.

“My kids have been in a baking craze since they got off school,” the cashier told her as she bagged her flour, then her vanilla extract. “It must be the season.”

Wanda looked up from her wallet then smiled.

“Mine too,” she said.

When she arrived at home, you were sitting at the dining table on your laptop. It was nearing the end of the semester, so you still had a few more final assignments to finish. You stood and helped Wanda unload the groceries.

“Hi, baby,” she greeted once all the bags were on the counter. She reached and placed her palm against your furthest cheek, pulling you in for a kiss on the temple.

“Hi,” you answered with a smile, putting some things away into the fridge. “Did you get the Pillsbury cookies? You saw the holiday ones, right?”

Wanda handed you the milk. “I did. There were only the snowmen.”

“That’s fine. I just wanted something that was Christmas themed.”

The rainbow chip cookies came out last. Wanda had never tried them, and it wasn’t on the shopping list, and you hadn’t asked for it before. She handed them to you as you stored some things away into the cupboards.

“Do you like these? They were on sale,” she suddenly lied.

You took them from her, eyes running over the package. Then you set it on the counter with a contemplating hum as you peeled it open and looked inside. “Oh, I do like these. I last had them when I was really young.”

After dinner, you resumed working on your laptop, cuddled up beside Wanda on the couch as she flipped through Netflix for something to watch. She had a glass of white wine in hand and an arm around your shoulders, fastening the shared blanket around your body.

You’d been trying to apply for some jobs lately; after declaring a temporary leave from college starting next semester, you wanted to start working a little to make some income and keep yourself busy. You were hoping for something part-time and very casual.

The gold Christmas lights Wanda had hung up around the fireplace and curtains glowed warm, enveloping the living room in something gentle and festive. There wasn’t any other light on aside from the stovetop in the kitchen, so the laptop screen felt particularly intrusive.

“What are you working on?” she asked, putting her phone down and looking down at you from the rim of her glass as she took a sip.

“A final essay. It’s pretty overdue.”

Wanda eyed the tabs you were switching between. “Overdue? Online courses not working well?”

“I thought it might be better for me but…” you trailed off, your fingers pausing atop the keyboard. Your index finger tapped ever so slightly against the E key, just enough to make the plastic sound against the board.

“Is something on your mind…?” Wanda asked, setting the remote down. She craned her neck down and brushed her nose against your cheek.

Your fingernail traced the top edge of the D key. “It just feels like I’m always behind. I keep trying to change things around so maybe I might find something I can finally get accustomed to — online courses, a lesser course load.”

Then, quietly, you added, “My friends don’t even ask to study with me anymore. I know I declared a leave, but...”

The Christmas lights reflected against Wanda’s glass, and against the pale golden hue of her wine, it looked like she was drinking champagne, slightly flat.

She set the glass on the coffee table then carefully closed your laptop, allowing you to remove your hands from the keyboard. She placed it down, closed, beside her wine. Instinctively, you curled up and leaned your head against her chest, and Wanda wrapped both arms around you, one hand coming to cradle the side of your head.

Before she could say anything, you said, “They invited me out to the Christmas market downtown a few days ago.”

Something tightened in Wanda’s stomach and she looked down at you, but your face was covered by your hair and some of the blanket which was wrapped around her arms.

“Really? You didn’t tell me,” she said.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say at first.”

“Say to whom? To them or me?”

“I don’t know…” you muttered quietly. “Both.”

Wanda’s hand tightened around your shoulder. You buried your cheek against her chest, feeling like she was holding you tighter against her. Instead, Wanda felt tense; the idea that you could feel about her in any similar way that you did for your friends made her feel like she was just as disposable and temporary.

“Did you go…?” Wanda asked, trying to keep her voice from sounding strained as she feared the answer might be that, yes, you did make plans and see other people in your life without telling her.

If your feelings of uncertainty were the same between her and your friends, and you ended up seeing them and not telling her, wasn’t that the same as you picking them over her? Leaving her behind like some afterthought, only to come up later when you felt a little insecure about something?

You shook your head, and Wanda took a breath through her nose, tension in her lungs dissipating. Then you lifted yourself from her chest and reached for your phone. Wanda pulled you back against her when you leaned back, but now your head was on her shoulder instead of her chest so you could both look at your phone screen together.

You showed her a picture on Instagram of your friends together at the market.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Wanda said, brushing her nose against your temple then kissing your cheek. “But you wouldn’t have really enjoyed yourself if you were with them, would you?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled, eyes still on the screen, obviously not really caring what she was saying, and still feeling rather down about it.

Wanda bit the side of her tongue a little at your passive insistence that you still cared about the fact that they hung out without you. “Baby, you always say that you don’t really feel like you fit in when you’re with them. Don’t you say that…?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did we do that day, anyway? We went shopping for decorations, right? And got dinner? Wasn’t that much more fun?”

You nodded and looked up.

Wanda felt her breath hitch and snag in her throat when you met her eyes. She swallowed, wondering what you might be thinking when you looked at her like that.

“I… I’m really happy we’re spending the holidays together,” you said quietly. Your phone dimmed then locked, the image of your friends forgotten.

Her lungs filled with air and her expanding rib cage pushed gently against your upper arm.

“Me too, Y/N.”

A warm hand cupped your cheek, smooth fingers brushing against your soft skin. She looked over your face in great detail.

When the thought came over her, wondering what similarities you held in comparison to your mother and father, Wanda looked away. She reached over to get her wine glass then settled back against your side.

You leaned your head on her shoulder and Wanda rested her chin on top of it.

“Any movie you’d like to watch?” she asked, combing her fingers through your hair.

You reached for the remote and turned on the TV.

Early the next morning, you sleepily padded downstairs to see Wanda setting up the Christmas tree in the living room. She was still in her pajamas, but she had a sweater on and her hair was clipped back.

When you stepped off from the stairs, Wanda turned around to greet you with a smile. She outreached an arm for you to come over and give her a hug.

Wanda thought you were rather light on your feet; you would sometimes sneak up on her when you’d enter a room. It was a stark contrast to Vision, who was quite tall, and seemed to always walk with the frustrating burden that he’d woken into another day, living the same life as he did the day prior.

It was the recollection of painful memories like that, ones where you’d no doubt see her as a spineless, empty woman, that made Wanda all the more confident in her decision to keep truths about Vision from you. She wanted to be someone different, and better.

You walked over and wrapped your arms around her waist, tucking your head under her chin before she kissed your forehead.

“You started putting up the tree without me?” you asked, lifting your head and looking up at her.

“Oh,” Wanda replied, turning her head to look at the tree. She had only just started with the ornaments, and the cardboard box she stored the tree in was still on the floor.

She looked back down at you.

“You want to help?”

You nodded and pulled away from her before digging through the box of ornaments to begin decorating. “You shouldn’t ever decorate a Christmas tree alone unless you’re actually by yourself.”

Wanda smiled at your boldness as she watched you from behind. She pinched your side playfully, causing you to flinch away. She wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into her, pressing a kiss to your neck and causing you to giggle.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” you replied. Then you shooed her away so you could continue with what you were doing.

Wanda hadn’t ever decorated with anyone else; Vision wasn’t very festive, and when she was younger, her family often travelled for work, leaving her and Pietro to celebrate alone with the company of their neighbour who watched over them.

Their neighbour was a strict elderly man who didn’t speak much English and slept most of the time, whose dialect was that which only their parents understood, and was never taught to Wanda nor Pietro. Her memories of Christmas as a jointly-celebrated holiday was reminiscent of bitter black tea, imported from her neighbour’s hometown overseas, and television on its lowest volume in the late evening, playing old holiday sitcoms.

“My parents and I got in a fight a few days ago,” you said suddenly, still hanging up ornaments.

Wanda looked at you as she adjusted the position of some of them she’d put up earlier. She thought for a moment before responding, “Is everything okay?”

“It’s okay,” you answered.

You’d been having a hard time with your parents the past few months. They were upset you’d taken a temporary leave from your schooling without consulting with them first, they were upset you’d been spending so much time with someone they’d never met, and they were upset that you hadn’t been speaking with them.

You still had a large sum of money left from when you worked more often than you attended classes, and so you were rather glad not to rely on them for any financial support, not that you often spent money while being at home with Wanda.

The change, according to them — and according to you, too — had seemingly come out of the blue. But, still, you could pinpoint when it started.

After meeting Wanda, all you wanted to do was run away from things. You wanted to run from your parents, who’d always babied you and never gave you your own choice in anything, and from school, and from your friends, and from the world.

To word it more accurately, you’ve always wanted to run away from things.

And Wanda let you.

She took you away and kept you safe.

You hung an ornament on the tree, and instead of leaning down to take another out of the box, your arms stilled at your sides and you looked down at the floor.

After a moment of silence while Wanda was busy reaching up to hang an ornament close to the top, you asked quietly, “Is it okay if I spend Christmas with you…?”

Looking up from the floor, you met Wanda’s eyes.

Wanda felt her breath hitch at the sight of you looking at her that way — expectantly, patiently, like what she said mattered to you a great deal. She leaned down and placed the ornament back in the box. She stepped towards you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders. “Of course, baby,” she answered quietly, speaking against the side of your head. “Let’s stay home for the holidays — just the two of us.”

By next week, your gifts for Wanda were wrapped and stored under the tree. You mixed them in along with the ones she’d gotten for you, so you could see them altogether.

Wanda was still at work, staying a bit later tonight, so you went out to walk through the Christmas market downtown on your own. You saw a beautiful jade hair clip that you thought would look perfect on her; you imagined the shade of green tucked within the brown of her hair, bringing out the green in her eyes, and her delicate fingers wrapping around the handle to clip it in.

Wrapped in a small box, you crouched down and placed it on top of a gift Wanda wrapped for you.

When she came back from work, Wanda found you dozing on the couch in the living room with a blanket draped around you. You were bathed in the gentle light of the Christmas tree that you’d put up together.

She quietly put her things down before approaching your delicate sleeping figure. She crouched down and carefully brushed your hair out of your face, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m home, my angel,” she whispered softly, a smile growing on her face as she watched you awaken slowly.

#love and loathing #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #elizabeth olsen

156 notes · View notes

mqrrstarr · 3 days ago

Text

Gladiator Headcanons! (1/?)

How the Characters would act if you: Had A Cold!

Character x GN! Reader

Warnings: s3x implied

Characters Featured: Maximus, Lucilla, Commodus, Acacius, Caracalla, Geta, Lucius, Macrinus (edited: I never actually wrote anything for him but I did now)

A/N: First Tumblr post in a while, and I'm actually writing things too! This is the first time I've written elaborate headcanons, so please forgive if they seem a little off. I apologize for any historical/character innacuracies, and I hope to get better!! xoxo -mqrrstarr

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Maximus would immediately notice something is off. You kept complaining about a headache that didn’t seem to stop, and your temperature was high.

“Darling, I don’t think you should fight today…”

You could only cough in response, and the guards wouldn’t let you rest. As the day’s challenge was fighting in pairs, he rapidly volunteered to fight with you. Maximus protected you from the other gladiators, and killed them as fast as you could sneeze. By the end of the day, Maximus gave you his blanket and other amenities, ushering you to a more comfier cell. (He had placed a bet with another gladiator.)

“There darling, rest up nice and easy.”

I can also see Maximus getting the other gladiators to create a soup/stew sort of mixture. Not good. But he’s very fatherly, if you can get that?

- - - - - - - -

Lucilla knows everything. After taking care of Lucius as a child, she can rapidly tell when you’re not feeling well.

“Sweetie? Do you feel alright?”

She’d do the mom thing, put her hand on your forehead and try to figure out what was wrong with you. Your head was practically boiling, so she’d get her servants to make tea, lay you in her triclinium and keep you company.

“The servants will prove useful sweetie. You’re a strong warrior, so keep hanging on.”

She’d hum a lullaby, read poetry (the same she’d read to Lucius) and tell stories until you fell asleep.

- - - - - - - -

Commodus was rarely comforted growing up, so he knew how to handle sickness easily. Growing up semi-independent, he knew homemade tricks and tips to feel better.

“Y/N, are you not feeling well? Just get some herbs and drink an elixir. You’ll be fine.”

He realizes that he sounds a bit harsh, and reminds himself that he never wants to treat you how he was treated; with solitude and no gratitude. Commodus gets you all the snacks and food you want, and even hugs you for as long as you want.

When you question him after it’s been a whole afternoon of him on your chest, he simply says,

“Y/N, do not question the Emperor. I wish to lay with you, and I do not fear sickness. The Gods can protect one of their own.”

He keeps hugging you and falls asleep, and the next day you’re both coughing and sneezing.

- - - - - - - -

Acacius has been through so many battles and massacres, yet he’s never truly encountered a cold. The soldiers that cough, are usually dead. Coughing up their own blood, that is. He really doesn’t know how to help you properly, but he’ll try his best.

“Angel, can you tell me what’s wrong? I’m not really sure what to do. Should I get a doctor? Are you feeling a certain way?”

and as he says this, Acacius would use his hands to caress yours, and treat you even more like a princess/prince. He’d lay you in his own bed, and give you massages until you’d feel better. He’d also do a little more if you’d want. Iykyk. You’d fall asleep quickly, and you’d wake up to Acacius either next to you, or on a chair by the bedside and he’d be all sprawled out. His soldier senses would wake him up though.

“Angel? Angel? You’re all right now, that’s wonderful. My lovely Venus, you’re all healed.”

And his words, he would seal with a forehead kiss. GOD HE’S SUCH A SWEETHEART I NEED PEDRO PASCAL

- - - - - - - -

Caracalla had his own sickness, the one of syphilis. His wild mentality usually was what kept him going, and the love of ruling over Rome. Yet the Emperor cared for his significant other, and refused to let anyone else; even his closest servants touch you.

“My Wife/Husband, the most holiest of them all, I shall take care of you. Please tell me what your most vivid desires are? Allow me to assist you.”

He’s such a sweetheart, and he’d definitely tell you so many stories of him and Geta in their childhood, Roman mythology, and anything to keep you entertained. As he also has mommy and daddy issues, he also do a Commodus-esque move and lay on your chest and probably fall asleep first haha. When the both of you awake, he'd hear your stomach rumble.

“You’re hungry? Well then I shall feed you. Anything for you my love.”

He’d keep you filled with food and him to help your weak state. (CARACALLA COME HOME THE KIDS AND I MISS YOU)

- - - - - - - -

Geta was always stressed. Getting much more to do as Emperor, as Caracalla had his own “duties” to fulfill. When you started coughing and sneezing as you strolled in the palace garden, he’d send the servants away to prepare a room where you could quarantine. As much as he loved you, he’d refuse to get sick. (Rome needs a healthy representation.) So you’d be alone the first few days with the occasional knock on the door. When you seemed less sick than before, he’d spend all the time with you.

“My love? I’m here for you. The Gods have finally allotted time for our get together. It will be only the finest in Rome for the night; us.”

He’d definitely turn the situation into a fun (fucking) night and then the days after that would be a cycle of laying together, fine dining meals, and caressing. (your bodies, of course.) When he has to return to his Emperor duties, he’ll leave with a long romantic and passionate kiss, one that made your entire body warm.

��Won’t be long. I’ll be back in the night.”

(if you couldn't tell i love the idea of geta as needy all the time)

- - - - - - - -

Lucius knew what it was like to feel sick and tired constantly, so he took care of you. Like a shepherd tending to his favorite sheep. Both of you grand warriors and gladiators, so there was no time to feel bad. He reassured you he could fight without you, and vowed to come back every time.

“Dearest, I promise to return safely. I couldn’t leave my soul with you, it has to be me truly here always. I vow on our love to fight for freedom and the peace of Rome. I will also fight for you.”

You trusted Lucius, (WHO WOULDN’T WITH THOSE BLUE EYES) and he is a man of his word. Day after day, you slowly healed and was able to rejoin Lucius and the others again.

“See? I knew you’d heal. The Gods give power to those who are great. And you are great.”

You fought as usual, but he’d still protect you a little more to ensure you were actually okay.

- - - - - - - -

Macrinus would see you and get together some gladiators in your presence, hoping they would entertain you and help you ignore the pain.

“Sickness is nothing but temporary Y/N. You can and have the power to move on.”

You’d take his advice and eventually keep doing your work as his assistant, and he’d make sure you were well taken care of.

“Y/N? A true warrior does not dawdle. Good job keeping up with your tasks.”

Surprisingly, you were able to keep up with work and healed faster than expected. (THERE I WROTE FOR MACRINUS)

160 notes · View notes

alientee · 1 day ago

Text

Shimmer Head

Ekko x reader

6k+ words

Fem reeader

Hazbin hotel Easter egg included. Addicted song describes reader.

Warning: suicidal thoughts and actions, drug use not by choice though.

Im sorry it took so long yall I’ve been crocheting blankets for Christmas and life has been lifting with work

You were an anomaly, or at least that’s what Silco called you. Apparently he saved you at birth; one calm walk through Zaun's lanes, and your mom was an overdosing shimmer head who was getting her last fix before she pushed you out. You survived. This was something Silco never thought possible; even when you looked like a shivering, whining skeleton, you were strong, a survivor, and from that day on, you were his daughter.

As life went on, you got stronger, faster, and a little more insane; your eyes changed, looking like a wild mix of two different colors. You changed so much it confused you every day to see yourself. How the voices in your head would go from telling you to slaughter everyone to offing yourself.

Silco had you microdosed with shimmer ever since you were a newborn till now, and you handled it each and every time. You were his creation, his wild card. Even as a child, he had you by his side with torture, robbing, and meetings. You’ve done it all. There were days the voices really did get to you; sometimes it was better to hurt yourself rather than to crash. You can remember the times Silco had to stop you from hurting him and yourself. The scars on your arms, the bloodstains left on your clothes, the burn scars from throwing bone down without any care, ready to give it all up. Either you survived, or Silco was just in time.

So when you first met Jinx, your first thoughts were, This poor kid, she’s just a dreamer.

But she followed you around everywhere, calling you sis, saying she’d never leave your side, she’d never leave you no matter what. Not like her sister did. You didn’t believe her; how could you? No one but Silco ever saw you; he’s the only one that loved you.

Until she followed you to a club one night.

You spin around in the chair, listening to the grungy punk music, drunk, horny prowlers, angry wannabes, and goofy dancers mixing into the crowd. You sit in your chair in the corner of the club, drink in one hand, revolver in the other. One bullet, one drink—it was all a game to you. The gun clicked three times, and you took three shots before it was snatched from your hand. And lo and behold, it was your new shadow coming to ruin the fun.

“Hey, what gives, Blue Jay!”

“How are you going to be the big shot legacy Silco says if you're dead, dumbass!”

“It’s none of your business!”

“We’re family now, so yeah, you are!”

“You going to love me even if I try to kill Silco in his sleep?”

“I’d still love you even if you killed me with him.”

Family, huh?

“Fine.”

For the first time you didn’t take your game too far, or get fucked up and pass out behind the bar; you didn’t even have a mental breakdown.

At least the voices got quiet for a while.

After a while you started to think of Jinx as a sister. Someone you could confide in, someone who gets you. Was Silco the best dad? Nah, but he was all you had. Now you know he had Jinx too. You thought everything was ok; you could be happy with your found family; even if you were broken, you still had people to fix you up, so everything was fine.

At least you genuinely believed everything was alright.

Until Jinx’s actual sister showed up, calling her Powder, the hugging, the crying, the family reunion was cute. You haven’t seen Jinx this vulnerable in a while. Everything was calm until some Piltie came out, and then the moment was gone. Jinx threatens the redhead with the gun, and boom, the Firelights had you all surrounded.

“Jinx, if you want your sister back, you gotta be smart about this.” The silence you got back let her know she was thinking up something stupid.

Smoke and ash covered the air, bullets flying and fighting at every turn. The firebugs just didn’t know when to quit, always trying to get into business that isn’t theirs. It was fun knocking them off their boards every once in a while. You’ve faced them before with Jinx killed a couple of times; you didn’t kill any of them, though. Never had the guts to really kill innocent people; you didn’t want to know what the voices would say if you did. You didn’t want to lose yourself all the way.

As always, Jinx is shooting bullets every which way in the sky, which wasn’t bad, but using bombs to blow up the platform is very bad. Your body hurt, your ears were ringing, and you could barely breathe. You tried calling out for Jinx but got no answer. You finally dragged yourself up; you can see some fire bugs down, but you couldn’t see Jinx. Couldn’t see her sister. Didn’t even see the body lying dead somewhere.

Huh, you were all alone.

Then it dawned on you: Jinx did it on purpose. She really was a genius, truly. She blew up the platform, making a distraction; a lot of people were down and out. Nobody could see what was happening; some too injured to chase.

Looks like she could only carry her sister to safety, though.

You’ll never leave me no matter what, huh?

Hehehehehe, yeah right!

You could finally breathe again and got the strength to stand up. It was all just so funny, really.

Bunch of bullshit hahahahaha

You didn’t notice anything going on around you, the shuffling of people standing; you didn’t feel all the cautious eyes on you. Not that you cared; all you cared about were the voices screaming at you so loud you could swear your ears were bleeding.

Walking towards the edge of the platform is easy. Turning around and giving a mock salute to the firelights with a smile on your face was easy. But dropping to your death knowing the last thing playing in your headphones was your and Jinx's song, it fucking burned every lyric you tried to sing just turned to ash in your mouth.

But at least now the voices would stop forever. The air rushed through your ears and then nothing.

Out like a light

You woke up in an eerily dark room; honestly, it was predictable. Down to the moldy smell, the silence, and the creepy guy in the corner with a mask. And you honestly should’ve been more mad at yourself for getting saved; you couldn’t even die in peace!

“Why am I alive, dammit!”

The silence was so annoying; there’s no need to try and be intimidating. You’ve seen worse. You hate people who try those tactics; you can’t torture someone who’s already tortured every day. Geez, just kill them if they don’t tell you what you want.

“Look, I’m not going to tell you shit, so just kill me already!”

And then the mask comes off. You don’t know him, but you knew him, apparently jinx’s past. The boy savior, she calls him; he looks just like she said he would. You also remember what she told you about him. “Better watch out; the boy savior likes to think he can save everybody.”

Ok, you can deal with a wannabe hero.

“Your on shimmer. You are an addict; Slico has you do his dirty work, and he gives you your next fix. Am I right?”

You’re really fucking wrong. Scratch that; you didn’t want to deal with the wannabe hero.

“So how about you tell me what I need to know, and you get to lay low somewhere secret and get off that shit before you try and die again while Silco just replaces you?”

The voices started to get louder, your throat tight and blood dripping from your palms for how tight you started to squeeze them. His words were like acid on your skin. Just who did this asshole think he was?

“First of all, dipshit, I’m his daughter! Ok, not some random street rat shimmer head he feeds. Second of all, shimmer makes people stronger. I should know; came right out of my druggie mom, still living and breathing, full of shimmer! I’ve been injected with it since Silco adopted me! He says I’m perfect; he says I'm his legacy. I don’t do his dirty work; I help him make Zaun better! So you're dead fucking wrong, wannabe!”

Now he’s looking at you like you’re crazy…. And you're used to that.

“This is better? Our people are dying all around us. Kids are abandoned! People are sick and starving. How is this better?”

“Blame Piltover! Duh!”

“It’s Piltover. And Silco, are you crazy??!!”

That word. It always did something to you. You didn’t care when people looked at you like you were... but calling you crazy? Different story. Something that made all the voices laugh, an itch in your brain that told you to break, hurt, destroy, kill, and show them your insane.

“FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU! Hahahahahahahahaha. All of Piltover and Zaun is going to burn you, and your fucking bugs are going to be ash! I’m not crazy. I’m perfect. I’m perfect he said”—

Your music!?! Where were your headphones?!!?

You were so numb, in a really dark place, you never fully remembered how your episodes went. When that singed guy injected you with your first microdose of shimmer, all you remembered was the screaming and Silco whispering how proud he was. But Ekko would remember it all even in his dreams. How you banged your head against the pole you were tied against over and over again. Crying tears of shimmer while laughing hysterically until blood dripped on the side of your head. Only to end up sobbing.

The voices screamed and screamed and screamed. Until they stopped, they never just stopped without music or silco. And you never had this heavy feeling over your ears without your headphones.

Oh, it’s this Ekko guy. What is he doing? Why is he holding his hands over your face? Why is he looking at you like that?

“I’m sorry. You’re not crazy. I promise, okay? Breath for me nice and slow.”

This was nice: everything quiet, everything nice and warm. This is new, huh?

“Hey!? Wai”—

Out like a light again

“She’s a danger to the base!”

“We can help her. She’s not like Jinx! She’s the product of a bad situation. She’s not with Silco because she wants to be; it’s because it’s all she knows.”

“She’s a mess; keeping her here is like bringing bullshit to our door!”

“He’s been injecting her with shimmer since she was an infant! We can’t kick her out!”

“Can y'all shut up sleeping here?”

Bat Guy and Ekko just stared at you.

“Look, I don’t care what you do to me; can I just have my damn headphones? The voices, ya know, they’re telling me to escape and kill everyone here. Soooooo, my earphones, pretty please.”

The boy wonder hands them over and puts them over your ears. And even with no music playing, everything feels peaceful. The whole time, he and Bat Boy are still going back and forth; this time you couldn’t hear it, though. Finally you get silence, if only for a moment. You almost bit Ekko when he moved one of them back off.

“Look, let’s compromise: you get a little freedom, supervised. And we get one shimmer shipment location… not the factory, just the shipment.”

“No bullshit babysitters; it’s you or nothing.”

“...fine.”

You could’ve told him to fuck off and die. Make him eat his sappy little words. But after the way he held your ears, he looked like a kicked puppy for making you freak out. How softly he said sorry. It was different; it was new. You didn’t do soft, not that much.Silco always told you to play your enemies, so maybe giving a little bait wouldn’t be too bad.

“Fine, boy wonder, I’ll give you a shipment that’s all.”

“Thank you.”

There he goes, looking at you like that again.

Like some kind of puppy. What a sucker.

Ekko took you outside, but you didn’t want to socialize, so he kept you both at a good distance from the others. While taking you out of the base, you didn’t want to look at anyone. If you saw any leering faces and judging eyes, you knew you’d lash out.

Oddly enough, you didn’t want to smack the fuck out of Ekko's face. Maybe a little bit, not a lot. You didn’t know what it was, but Ekko was calming; his presence was like a warmth in the dark murk of Zaun. You didn’t understand how he could be so... normal with all of this around him.

Maybe it was the fact that he actually took you out of the hideout and onto a roof to look over Piltover. You could’ve knocked him out, taken his board, and run. Why is he so stupidly trusting? “How do you do it?” He raises an eyebrow. “Do what?” You raise one back “Be so happy-go-lucky when we live in a place like Zaun.” That made him stop his steps, and he looks serious; you haven’t seen him unless he’s talking about shipments.

“I have to make a change for the people who can’t help themselves; I want to give people something to live for; the firelight is my way of doing that.”

And there he goes again, making your mind feel funny again. It sounds like he means it; everything Ekko says always sounds genuine, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to believe him.

“Alright then, help me by teaching me how to ride one of those hoverboard things.” Ekko’s eyes get wide, and his mouth even opens a little. “You want to learn? I’ve been trying to get you to do that for a week. What changed?” You didn’t want to let him know the real reason, so you decided to play it off.

“Just thought I could kick your butt at something, boy wonder,” he scoffed. You knew he hated the nickname; it was too fun teasing him to stop, though.

“Alright, alright. If you’re so confident, then I’ll teach you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you end up falling off a few times.”

“I’ll be a pro; just you wait and see.”

You were in fact not a pro. Your knees were scuffed, and the dirt on your clothes was a testament to just how many times you hit the dirt. “Sorry this is taking so long; I feel fucking stupid.” Ekko grabs your hands and pulls you up, grabbing the board. “Don’t; it takes everyone a minute to learn this is no different. How do you think I feel? I made it; I had to test it and fall a lot.” You give him a nod, deciding to take the board back with a little more confidence this time. “What a boy genius you are,” you got a snort in return.

“Now, remember, hoverboards are pretty sensitive. You have to find your balance and keep it steady. And be careful not to lean too far to one side or the other, or you’ll tip over.” Ekko watches you carefully as you mount the hoverboard, his arms crossed over his chest. The hoverboard begins to move forward as you lean, slowly at first, but steadily gaining speed.

You could hear Ekko yelling behind you, “There you go, you’re doing great! Just keep your balance and focus on the path ahead.”

“What about turns!? What if I fall??”

“Don’t worry; I’ll be right here to catch you if you fall.”

You got the hang of it after a while; you both went back to the base riding your hoverboard and even racing some of the kids. It was a good time, no responsibilities, no expectations. It still hurt you; there was no Silco, but at least you had distractions.

Ekko seemed to show up when he wasn’t asked; it’s like he knew when to butt into people's business.

He was there during your worst moments of loneliness. When the darkness was too much, when the voices kept repeating the insults louder and crueler. Telling you to kill yourself, that you're nothing, worthless, not good enough, burn the firelight base to the ground, and watch everyone around you die. You’ll only end up alone anyway. The smell of ash and blood, you could remember it by heart. Tears pouring out of your eyes continuously, you didn’t even sob. You had nothing to be sad about in the moment. You just naturally cried, and all you could do was scream, hoping I’d stop. Sitting in the dark waiting for it all to end. Thinking, hoping that just maybe one day you’d be blessed enough not to wake up.

It wasn’t until you felt Ekko's heavy gloves on your shoulder. Asking if you were ok, if you needed anything, if you needed him. Looking at you like you're the only thing that mattered in the moment. Moving to sit next to you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. “You don’t have to talk; just know I’m right here with you. I’m not going anywhere.” Those days were hard, but it always felt nice to have Ekko lying on the floor next to you, no words, just his company.

He even let you into his little workshop. His words: “You don’t have to knock. If you need me, just come in” You’d hand him his tools and use all the knowledge you had on tech to help. You used to make a lot of trinkets that helped your day-to-day life. You didn’t like to make weapons like Jinx, but you could make a mean bomb. You’ve even fallen asleep to his tinkering and his little nerd-out moments. “You're such a dork.” He wouldn’t even take his eyes off his invention.

“Shush if you're not going to help.”

“Touchy touchy. Here, let me look, boy genius.” When you actually put in effort to help him, he’d look at you from the side of his eye, and you’d pretend like you didn’t notice the small smile creeping up on his face. Sitting by his side until late at night, making new things to help out in the base. Both your giggles and the metal clanking were the only things heard at 3 am.

And that’s how it was for a month. Ekko is coming in, trying to coax you into giving up Silco; you give him a little info, and he folds and gives you what you want for the day. You had a good thing going. So why’d he want to ruin it now? You were fine seeing the kids; you made small talk with one of the firelight girls, but that’s it. Everyone else you dealt with in passing. So why was Ekko so set on you interacting with more people?

“How about we hang out with the group for a bit?”

“I’m fine; I hate people.”

“Look, I’m just trying to—“

“I don’t need help! I don't need friends! I—I need my dad; I need…. I need to feel in control. It still feels like I’m a fucking prisoner even if you say I’m not.

Ekko doesn’t talk for a minute; you can tell he’s trying to choose his words wisely, his white locs covering his face. “I don’t know what you see in Silco, even if he took you in…. You can’t tell me you truly see the good in what he’s doing.

You didn’t answer him. Afraid you’ll say something you’ll regret by lashing out. He didn’t get it; he didn’t get you! Silco was your dad; Silco helped you ignore the voices; he loved you even if he had a funny way of showing it.

“He’s not the best dad in the world, but he’s my dad. He helped me when I had no one. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Ekko didn’t answer you; it’s like he wanted to argue, but he knew you needed this.

“Just... just give it a chance; you may find your people.”

If he heard your scoff, he didn’t react to it.

I don’t have people; all I have is my dad and myself, even when I don’t love myself.

Ekko’s soft words pulled you out of your thoughts.

“You have me too.”

“Until how long, hmmm, till I run out of information?”

“That’s no—“

“Hey, Ekko, tell me how I survived the day I jumped.”

Ekko went back silent; he was giving you that look again, and you hated it. It’s like he saw everything within you, and it made you feel naked, like you couldn’t hide.

“Oh that… flew down to save you.”

“Why?”

“When you smiled at us before you fell, I thought you were asking for help.”

You giggled at that; only Ekko would think of saving his enemy who tried to off themselves in front of him. “Your something else, Sunflower.”

“Sunflower!? What kind of flower is that? We don’t have those in Zaun.”

“Alright, take me out or whatever it is you want.”

“D-don’t say it like that. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the kids.”

You never knew Zaun could look like this, or even have a tree, and now the name firelights makes sense: nothing but a lush green tree with the fireflies all around it. It’s peaceful, plush; it’s nice. You got a few looks here and there, but it’s fine; ekkos here, and you weren’t forced to hang out with who you didn’t want to.

And that’s how you spent your day bonding with Ekko and even the kids; they weren’t as judgy, and you appreciated it. Even when they had questions, it didn’t feel pointed. “Why do you always wear those things on your head?” your headphones; you never took them off, never could bring yourself to part from the one thing that helps stop the voices, no matter how battered and dingy they are. “They’re headphones. They help me when I’m scared or upset.” “Oooooh, I get it; my mask helps me! Makes me feel stronger!” “Good, use your strength to become the best firelight you can be.”

That’s how the day started and ended: you playing with the kids, running around, playing tag and hide and seek until the night came. The kids gathered around, using common objects around them to make a little band; music brings a lot of the firelights together, and somebody brings an actual scrap-made speaker playing louder music. Some even start to dance. And in this moment you couldn’t help but think maybe Ekko was right; maybe these people were ok.

You grab the overworking leader by the arm and pull him with you. “What is it?”

“Come on, Ekko, let’s dance!”

“Dance?”

“Yeah, you scared boy wonder?“

“Not at all, but um… why?”

“Who doesn’t like dancing!”

That’s when the music hits and nothing else matters. Ekko moves effortlessly, his body flowing in perfect harmony with yours. He keeps you close, his chest pressed against yours as he twirls you around. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. Your body’s moving in rhythm as the music gets Ekko pulls you closer, one hand resting on your waist while the other takes hold of your hand, spinning you. He begins to sway gently, guiding you in a slow dance. Holding each other’s sides, swaying back and forth. Every minute you got to look in Ekkos's eyes, seeing him smile at you like that did something to you; he really was something else.

You couldn’t let those eyes shake you, though. You knew it was only a matter of time before it all went to hell; no one really gives a damn about you, no one except Silco. But maybe if you were a better daughter, he would’ve found you by now.

Ekko could only look at you in confusion when you walked away from him, away from the gathering. He thought it was a good moment that he was finally getting through to you. But he wasn’t one to push, not when he knew what you’d been through, but he followed you up the stairs to the treehouse.

And when he found you, the silence was heavy but comfortable. That’s how it was with you too, and you’d never say it out loud, but he made you feel safe.

“Do you want to stay here?”

You timidly glanced into his eyes before you took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” you looked away, closing your eyes, trying to stop yourself from getting out of hand. Ekko hummed, leaving more silence in between you both, and then he asked another, “Even if you know Silco loves you, it isn’t healthy.”

You opened your eyes as a bitter taste remained in your mouth. Your face contorted into different expressions as you debated with yourself on whether or not you would share.

“My mother was a shimmer addict; she had me right as she overdosed. And Silco found me; I was different; I survived even with a small, premature body full of shimmer. He said I was unique, that I could change all of Zaun. I believe him. I’ve done a lot of great things… at least I think so. Even if you don’t agree with him, he saved me.

“But you're not okay—

“Don’t tell me what I am! I’m perfect as I am; he said so! I may not be normal, but I am living instead of surviving, Ekko! Can’t you see that?”

“I do. But you know what else I see? I see how happy you are riding your board; I see how sweet you are with the kids, especially when you steal yarn from the top side and crochet stuff for them; I see how you care for Raven when you think she’s not looking by finding her favorite things to surprise her without letting her know it was you; I see how you truly care for the people you're loyal to. You touch people's lives and leave light in your wake. I see how beautiful you are inside and out. You’re your own person, not what Silcos made you! You can do better than what he has you doing.”

“Is that what you’ve come up with in your mind? That I’m just this lost, misguided girl who was groomed to be fucked up? News flash! Boy Wonder, I’m in Zaun. I was going to be fucked up regardless of Silco! Who do you think I am, huh? Don’t act like you know me, 'cause you don’t! Stop trying to change me into something I’m not! I’m not some knockoff version of Jinx you can fix just because I decided to be nice a few times. What?! I’m your little powder passion project. Couldn’t save her, so you’re trying to save me because we both have family, daddy, and abandonment issues?!”

You knew it was a low blow, but even though she left you, you couldn’t help but think about Jinx’s words, taking them to heart, and everything she told you. “He likes to think he can save everyone.”

He narrowed his eyes at your response; you could see him clenching his fist and clenching his teeth. His eyes no longer looking at you with acceptance or worry like you were used to, only irritation

“I wasn’t trying to change her; I thought she was in danger. I didn’t know she went with that piece of shit willingly…. I thought I could save her; I needed to because she was my friend.”

“Ohhhhh, that’s right, you’re the boy savior!”

His eyes went from a glare to cold and lifeless.

“Fuck you. You know nothing; you only know Jinx's pain but not mine. You’re right about one thing, though: you and Jinx are similar. So I don’t know why I was stupid enough to try and help you; just like her, you don’t deserve it.” That just pissed you off more.

“I didn’t ask you to help me! I didn’t ask for you to save me from offing myself! I didn’t ask for you to try and fucking fix me or my life!”

“I’m not trying to change you; I’m trying to give you something better! A chance! Silco didn’t give you a chance; he used you! Your work, a tool! If you survived on shimmer this long since birth, you're proof that his product can lead to something greater than he thought. But it’s at the expense of you and your health.” His voice lowers, his breathing heavy. “Please… tell me you see it. You have to know that keeping you on shimmer as long as he has wasn’t to help you. Only him.”

In the back of your mind you knew; you always knew. And yet the faith he put in you gave your heart love you’ve never felt before. How he always stated he was proud of you, said you were the best thing to happen in his life, that you're his legacy, his daughter. But what was the cost for your heart, suicidal thoughts, breakdowns, nightmares, and dissociation? A mother that never wanted you, a father that loved you but not enough to see your pain, only your potential. “Hey Ekko, thank you. For saving me and making me realize. I don’t want people to end up like me... because I’m not ok.”

“Then let me he“—”. He didn’t get to finish before you pushed back, making him crash into the tree behind him. You jumped from the stairs on the tree; you didn’t care about the fall because it’s the freest you ever felt. You could hear the other fireflies yelling, but the adrenaline and the wind in your ears helped you ignore them. As soon as you fell, you pushed forward, not caring about the pain in your legs and ankles. Grabbing a hoverboard before speeding off and out of the hideout.

When Ekko got up, he didn’t chase you, nor did he call out for you; all he could do was watch. Scar rushed up to him, looking at him expectingly. “She’s going to go back to Silco!? We have to catch her before she rats us out!?” Ekko didn’t react to his words, only looking forward to where you had run. “Ekko!” And when Ekko finally looked at Scar, he just shrugged. “She’ll be back when she’s ready.” “She’s not coming back." Ekko, she’s been waiting for an opportunity to escape, and we let her!”

Ekko just shook his head, picking up something off the ground. “She’ll be back.” “How do you know!?” Ekko moved his hand in front of Scar, showing him what he picked up. “She left her headphones.” Scar just scoffed. “That doesn't mean anything.” Ekko just shook his head. “Trust me, if you knew her like I do, you’d know it meant everything.”

You wandered around one of Silco's biggest shimmer factories, where most of his shipments go. You walked around the rooftop, pacing back and forth. “I’m addicted to the madness~” You turned on your headphones, singing along, tuning out the noise below, scummy workers and henchmen everywhere. “Let me leave my soul a-burning; I’ll be breathing it in.” Sneaking down through the crawl spaces, you laid out bombs everywhere you could stick them. You set up trap after trap after trap after trap. You knew this place like the back of your hand, so it was easy to get in and get out.

“I’m addicted to the feeling, getting higher than the ceiling~” This place had meaning to you… this was the first place Silco took you when he felt like you were ready to work for him. The first place where he showed you the ropes was the same place he had you start your injections. The same place you had your first breakdown. This felt like a goodbye to the past, the pain, everything that made you feel inadequate. You don’t know what you’d be without Silco; you knew the voices would never fully leave, but at least with this you could let your dad know you were ok and that you were going your own way.

“Just concede and give in to your inner demons again~” You hit the button, and it all blew up—the building, the workers.

And you too. Hopefully, Silco can forgive you for not saying goodbye.

It’s been 3 months; Ekko waited for you to return. But after a while he could only assume you’d either gone your own way or something terrible happened. Missions still happened with no sign of you with Silco's goons, and there’s talk about the huge explosion that happened, so he couldn’t pinpoint what had happened to you; all he had to give him comfort about your departure was your headphones. He never touched them, only keeping them by his bedside with your memory lingering with him whenever there in his sight. But today at 12 am, he finally had the courage to tinker with them, hopefully fixing them up.

He was concentrating so hard he didn’t hear the door open; it was Scar. “Your stray is back,” and as soon as he came, he left.

“Hey sunflower,” he jumped and turned around so quickly you thought he’d fall out of the chair. He did slip a little as he rushed to hug you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

“Missed me?” He squeezed your torso, chuckling a little. “Missed your humor, not your bullshit.” You poked at his side, making him jump. “Lies, you missed that too. Everyone else is boring.

He pulls you over to his patched-up couch, both of you plopping down. You lean into his touch, laying on his shoulder. Neither of you said anything; you didn’t need to. You don’t know what you expected when it came to his reaction. But you’re glad Ekko didn’t pressure you to talk about anything or question what you’d been doing. You’d tell him one of these days. The withdraws, breakdowns, you almost ending it all. But right now you just wanted to enjoy his company; being alone for months took its toll, so it’s good to be back in a warming presence.

It took everything in you to not go back to Silco, to everything that was easier. But you pulled it off, and you hope Ekko could see that you really are trying. “Was it you?” He spoke so softly you thought you just imagined it, but Ekkos looking into your eyes let you know it was real. And you knew what he meant; your explosion was nothing but destruction, but you wanted to leave that behind you. So you said the only thing that was closest to the truth. “I’m following my own path now, Ekko.” When you looked back at him, it almost took your breath away. Those stupid, big, brown eyes looking at you with so much warmth you could’ve melted right then and there. It made you sick.

“I’m happy for you... So you’re just visiting?”

“Geez, trying to kick me out already, huh?” He shook his head. “Of course not. I just…. I want you to be happy and go your own way, even if it’s not here with me.” You looked away, biting your cheek. “So what if I wanted to be happy here?”.

“Then I’d make a space for you right now; you’re always welcome.”

“Even in your room~”

“Yeah, you can stay with me if you want.”

You felt all your thoughts falter and come to a stop once the words were out of his mouth. You paused and looked at him, face red. “Easy there; we don’t want everyone jealous that the big boss in charge is playing favorites.” He pulls you so close, too close. His nose and forehead touching your own. You don’t know this Ekko, Ekko who always was too shy to flirt back, who was always the gentleman, who only gave fleeting touches like he was afraid to break you. “You are my favorite; you’ll always be someone special to me.” You couldn’t help pushing his buttons, not wanting him to see your face reddening.

“Leaders shouldn’t show favoritism, ya know. I’m going to need something for me to keep quiet; wouldn’t want to hurt the kiddies feelings, would you? out of all the things you expected Ekko to say, you didn’t expect what he’d do.

Ekko leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and tender; the brush of his lips is so soft. He takes his time, savoring the feel of your lips against his, pouring all of his love and affection into the kiss. He leaned back and smiled warmly as he continued to gently caress your cheek. He looked at you with a soft, affectionate expression, his gaze filled with adoration thatyou’d noticed before. You just never had the guts to call him out on it.

“Is that enough to keep you quiet?”

“It's a start.”

#arcane #ekko #ekko arcane #ekko league of legends #ekko lol #ekko x reader #leauge of legends #the arcane spoilers #firelight ekko #ekko x you #jinx arcane #arcane silco #silco #silco and jinx #arcane league of legends #arcane lol #arcane ekko #arcane fanfic #arcane fandom

78 notes · View notes

holdmytesseract · 3 days ago

Text

moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @fictive-sl0th

Biker!Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader | No Outbreak AU

Warnings for this Chapter: 18+! MDNI! thirst, smut - not entirely graphic, but oh boy, it's there!

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: So, uh... I'm pretty nervous about this chapter, since smut isn't really something I write on a daily basis, so... I hope this turned out okay! 👉🏻👈🏻

《 M a s t e r l i s t 》

《 Chapter One 》《 Chapter Three 》

Chapter Two...

... in which you spent a passionate night with the handsome biker.

A little bit older

A black leather jacket

A bad reputation

Insatiable habits

He was onto me, one look and I couldn't breathe

'My Oh My' by Camila Cabello feat. DaBaby

Feeling a wave of nervousness but also anticipation and excitement wash over you, your feet immediately guided you over to the biker. Daryl gestured behind himself. "Hop on." You didn't let yourself tell that twice, and swung your leg over; sitting behind Daryl.

He revved the engine and looked over his shoulder back at you. "Ya should hold on real tight." You did; placing your hands on his shoulders. He smirked - something you weren't able to see and started to drive down the street; away from the bar. You felt your body crashing into Daryl's due to the speed. It caused you to redirect your hands and wrap your arms around his torso instead; switching positions - and you would've lied when you said you didn't enjoy holding on to him like this for the short ride inside Miles City. He was so broad and bulky, yet strong. Downright attractive.

Ten minutes later, Daryl pulled off the road and onto the parking lot of a motel. He stopped his bike and turned off the engine. You hopped off the vehicle again; Daryl doing the same. Then he took off his helmet again, fished inside his jeans pocket for the keys to his room and took your hand in his free hand. It was the first direct skin-on-skin contact - and it caused our head to spin. A shiver ran down your spine. The biker started to walk backwards and gently dragged you with him; that charming smile once again on his lips. You followed him. There were no words or further signals needed.

You felt your heart beating fast for the man in front of you, who had just put the key in the lock to open up the door to his room - to an invitation to spent the night with him. Again, you couldn't help but accept. Usually, you weren't like that, but something about Daryl was just so special and intriguing. He was different.

The wooden door had merely fallen into its hinges, when Daryl's lips crashed onto yours; your back hitting the wall behind you with a soft thud.

Daryl's kiss was overwhelming but intoxicating. The taste of Whiskey and smoke; paired with the woodsy, musky and floral scent of his cologne drove you wild. Desire and need fogging up your brain and making it hard for you to think straight. He was like a drug; injected in your bloodstream. All you wanted was the man in front of you - and you could tell that the feeling was mutual.

His lips were still attached to yours as the biker's hands started to wander; feeling the dips of your lower back and the curves of your hips. They traced the hem of your blue jeans, before calloused but skilled fingers popped the single button open and zipped down the zipper. You kicked off your cowboy boots to help Daryl along and within seconds you were halfway undressed.

To feel his hands on your burning hot skin sent another shiver down your spine. No doubt you were aching with need for him.

The man buried his face in your neck; kissing, biting and licking the sensitive skin. A gasp left your lips; hands sliding from his broad shoulders into his hair and you tugged; getting rid of his black baseball cap on the way. You felt him groan in your shoulder. His hips suddenly jerked forwards to pin you against the thin motel wall. That was the moment you felt all of him - and you were a hairsbreadth away from losing your mind. You were so drunk of him, you couldn't hold out much longer. "Daryl, p-please..." You panted desperately; hands no longer in his hair, but at the hem of his jeans. Your thumbs slid through the belt loops; tugging. He lifted his head to give you the sexiest, yet dirtiest smile a man had ever given you. It almost caused your knees to buckle and give in. Daryl knew what you wanted - and that only he was able to give it to you. Actually, he had planned to play with you a little longer, but the night wasn't over yet and he was losing the roaring battle against his most primal instincts as well. Therefore, he didn't hesitate; made quick work to unzip the zipper of his own jeans and finally gave the raging arousal trapped inside some room. Nevertheless, he couldn't resist the temptation to grant himself at least a little bit relief with the help of his hand, while he shrugged his angel-winged vest off his shoulders and messily undid a few buttons of his shirt, before he rummaged around in the back pocket of his jeans. Daryl quickly found what he was looking for, and fished it out. Bringing the little foil package to his mouth, he ripped it open with his teeth and took out the condom.

Meanwhile, your gaze had dropped, of course; watching his hands work with parted lips and your delicate palms splayed on his thick thighs. Gods, you wanted him so bad.

The sudden touch of Daryl's pleasantly warm hands on your bare hips ripped you out of your lustful thoughts. You raised your head again, just in time to see him dipping his head to meet your lips in an almost obscene kiss.

"Be a good girl 'n jump," the biker whispered hoarsely against your mouth; hot breath dancing over your skin. You did what he asked you to without hesitation; trusting your hookup blindly. He caught you easily mid-air; big palms cupping your bottom. You wrapped your legs around his middle and arms around his neck. Making sure your legs are secured around him, Daryl bend his knees and let gravity do the rest.

Your lips parted; a frown forming on your forehead. It was a lot - and it's been a while. He was a lot. You gasped; the muscles in your stomach tightening.

Daryl had thrown his head back in sheer endless pleasure, but when he focused again, he noticed the look on your face. "T-Too much?" He spluttered; having a hard time to hold himself back. You nodded wordlessly; breath still knocked out of your lungs. However, you stopped Daryl immediately as he wanted to retreat. "D-Don't... I-I want this."

Another smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

The sex was primal, rough and messy. It wasn't love making. Far from it. It was just two people giving into their attraction and needs.

What had started close to a wall beside the door, moved on to the cheap, shabby cupboard in the small entrance area and to the single, rickety chair beside the wardrobe, before it was now (finally) where it actually belonged... In the motel room's small, old bed, with you on your back and Daryl on his knees. The wood and springs squeaked underneath the biker's movements; headboard knocking against the wall. By now, you were pretty sure that all the neighbours around you knew what was going on behind these walls - but neither you, nor Daryl couldn't care less. You were so far gone already; completely lost in a haze of pleasure and the handsome man above you, who made you see stars.

Honestly, he was a sight to behold. The view had been never better... Chestnut brown curls all messy; pecks covered in a layer of sweat, causing the tattoos on his chest to glisten and the fine, dark hairs growing there and underneath his belly button to stick to his skin. It was probably the sexiest view you ever had.

While the biker did the heavy work, your hands were twisting the meanwhile fully opened black shirt Daryl wore; moans and gasps slipping past your lips now and then. The cliff you were about to jump down approaching quickly - quicker than you thought. All it took was a soft nip on the delicate skin at the junction of your shoulder and neck, and you were done for it. "F-Fuckin' s-shit," Daryl grunted huskily mere seconds later as he joined you, and jumped off the cliff as well.

The man panted hard as he was collapsing on top of you; biceps bulging as they worked hard to support his weight and not crush your smaller form. You giggled deliriously. One hand still splayed on his stomach as you bathed in the afterglow.

Quite a few minutes later - it was way past midnight, you were still laying in 'Daryl's' bed; him stretched out beside you, now fully naked and with his hands crossed behind his head. Neither of you had moved far.

You turned on your side to face him. "Is your one-night-stand allowed to stay the night, or should I go, call a taxi?" Daryl turned his head to face you as well; chewing on his bottom lip. "'S yer decision. If ya wanna stay, stay. If ya wanna leave, 's fine by me," he answered with a shrug.

You thought about it for a moment. It was late, you were tipsy and alone.

The decision was quickly made.

"Alright." You stood up and quickly got undressed completely as well - unintentionally giving Daryl more to look at, before you dived back into the bed; this time underneath the sheets.

The biker followed and tucked the sheets over his most private part. You slid a little bit closer to him; placing a hand on his soft stomach. "Thank you for this. Best sex I had in a while." Your words caused Daryl to chuckle. He reached out his arm for you to misappropriate as your pillow; hand resting on your bare back. "Same, cowgirl."

Tags: @dixons-sunshine @angelwings-crossbowstrings @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @mischief-dream @imadisneyprincessiswear @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @erebus-et-eigengrau @belitoxx @coleigh-1205-blog @chaoticevilbakugo @lou12346789 @marvelcasey05 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @cakesandtom @mayday2007

If you want to be added or removed from the LITRM taglist, pls let me know!

93 notes · View notes

sweeturavity · 1 day ago

Note

Hay! Heh, I am a fan about your post, and i was wondering if you can do a bakugou x y/n post where they are 25 and have a 6 year old son named kanji that looks and acts like bakugou, and they are at a grocery store and kanji sees a toy and makes a BIG tantrum embarrassing Y/n, and bakugou let's out his strict father side, aka bakugou is 1 hero, so... yeah.... rich.. THANK YOU 😭

𝓒𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐏𝐀��𝐓𝐄

you loved your husband dearly—even though his attitude sometimes felt like wrangling a feral cat, you couldn’t imagine your life without him. katsuki was a great husband and an even better father. somehow, he managed to juggle being the number one hero, a title that came with endless demands, while still making time for you and your little family.

and then there was kanji. your six-year-old son who was, quite frankly, a miniature katsuki in every sense. the same fiery attitude, the unshakable stubbornness, the sass that could cut sharper than any blade. even the way he’d glare at people—it was uncanny. sometimes you’d swear you were looking at a younger version of your husband.

it wasn’t just his personality, either. kanji’s wild blond hair, sharp crimson eyes, and even the way he crossed his arms when he was annoyed? all bakugou. it was as if the universe had taken katsuki and hit the copy-paste button without consulting you first. you couldn’t help but feel a little robbed—after all, you were the one who carried him for nine months, dealt with the swollen feet, the cravings, the mood swings. and yet, kanji turned out to be a walking, talking katsuki replica.

but honestly? you didn’t really mind. even when kanji’s temper flared, or when he mimicked his dad’s bossy tone, it made your heart warm. because as much as katsuki’s attitude could be a challenge, you loved everything about him. and seeing those same traits in kanji, no matter how chaotic they made your days, was a reminder of the love the two of you had built.

you always knew how much your son looked up to his father—it was written all over kanji’s face. every little thing katsuki did, kanji wanted to do, too. he’d follow katsuki around the house, mimicking his movements, copying the way he crossed his arms or the gruff way he’d say, ‘tch’. kanji’s biggest dream, even at six years old, was to be the number one hero, just like his dad. and katsuki? oh, he ate that up.

“when you’re older, kid, i’ll show ya all the tricks.” katsuki would say, ruffling kanji’s already messy blond hair. “i’ll make sure you’re better than all those extras out there.” kanji’s eyes would light up every time, and the two of them would launch into some over-the-top conversation about training regimens and hero rankings. their bond was undeniable, built on the same fiery ambition and drive that katsuki had passed down to him.

but with that bond came the attitude. katsuki’s attitude. and you swore sometimes it was your curse to deal with two versions of the same fiery temper under one roof. kanji had inherited more than just katsuki’s looks—he had the same sharp tongue, the same unrelenting sass, and the same way of glaring at you like you were personally ruining his day when he didn’t get his way.

you loved your son to pieces, but oh, how your patience was tested.

you swore sometimes you could feel your eye twitch when your six-year-old son had the audacity to sass you. “kanji, clean up your toys.” you’d say, only to be met with an exasperated; “ugh, fine, mom. i’ll do it later, jeez!” complete with an eye roll so dramatic it could win awards.

“watch your tone, kanji.” you’d warn, and from the next room, katsuki would shout, “oi, don’t be talkin’ to your mom like that, you little brat!” and yet, you’d catch him stifling a laugh when kanji wasn’t looking, because deep down, katsuki knew exactly where the kid got it from.

there were days you swore you were outnumbered—two bakugous against one you—but deep down, you couldn’t help but love it. kanji’s sass, as frustrating as it could be, was just another reminder of the fiery, headstrong family you’d built. even if it meant you’d occasionally lose an argument to a six-year-old.

and that’s how you ended up in this situation. you were just trying to get through the grocery trip without any chaos. that was the goal. in and out—grab the essentials and avoid anything that might set off your six-year-old son, kanji. but, of course, life had other plans.

everything had been going smoothly until you turned down the toy aisle, rookie mistake. kanji’s sharp gaze zeroed in on a display of action figures, specifically a limited-edition hero toy that looked suspiciously like dynamight himself. his tiny hand grabbed your sleeve, tugging with determination.

“mom! mom! look! it’s dad’s toy! i need it!”

you gave him a soft smile, crouching down to his level. “kanji, we’re not getting toys today, baby. we’re just here for groceries. you already have tons of toys at home.”

big mistake.

his bottom lip jutted out, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “but i don’t have this one!”

before you could reason with him, he dropped to the floor in a dramatic fashion, kicking his legs and letting out an ear-piercing wail that had heads turning from all directions. your cheeks burned as you tried to calm him, murmuring soft words that fell on deaf ears.

“kanji, stop this right now.” you whispered, glancing around at the growing number of onlookers. “you’re making a scene.”

“i don’t care!” he shouted back, tears streaming down his cheeks. “i want it!”

just as you were about to give up and let the earth swallow you whole, a familiar voice cut through the chaos like a whip.

“kanji.”

you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. katsuki’s voice was low and sharp, the kind that made grown adults flinch—and it had your son freezing mid-tantrum.

before you could say anything else, katsuki—who’d been a few steps behind grabbing something off the shelf—appeared, his towering figure and unmistakable presence shutting down the entire aisle’s noise. his crimson eyes narrowed as he looked at kanji.

“oi, brat. knock it off.” he barked, his voice low and firm, the same tone he used as pro hero dynamight when things got serious. kanji’s sobs faltered for a moment, but he looked up at his dad with that same fiery determination katsuki himself had mastered.

“but daddy! i need it!” kanji tried, sniffling dramatically.

“you don’t need it.” katsuki shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. “what you need is to listen to your mom and stop actin’ like a damn spoiled kid.”

kanji’s bottom lip quivered. “but—”

“no buts.” katsuki interrupted, crouching down to kanji’s level. his tone softened just slightly, though his eyes stayed sharp. “you think screamin’ and cryin’ is gonna get you what you want? not a chance. that ain’t how it works. you don’t get somethin’ just ‘cause you throw a fit. you gotta earn it, got it?”

kanji blinked up at him, his tears slowing as the weight of his dad’s words sank in. he mumbled something incoherent, and katsuki tilted his head.

“what was that?”

“got it.” kanji said more clearly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“good.” bakugou said, ruffling the boy’s spiky blonde hair before standing back up. he glanced at you, his expression softening slightly. “you okay, mama?”

“yeah.” you muttered, still feeling the lingering embarrassment from the scene. “thanks for stepping in.”

he smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. “you’ve been dealin’ with his crap all day, huh?”

“you have no idea.”

bakugou glanced back at kanji, who was now holding onto your leg, looking thoroughly chastised.“now quit the damn tears and help your mom with the list.” katsuki stood up and ruffled kanji’s messy blond hair, his version of an apology for being so harsh.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. katsuki turned to you with a smirk, his tone lighter now. “what?”

“strict dad mode, huh?” you teased, trying not to laugh.

“damn right. kid’s gotta learn. can’t have him thinkin’ just ‘cause his old man’s dynamight he can get whatever he wants.”

later, as you loaded groceries into the car, you noticed katsuki handing a small bag to kanji, who lit up with excitement.

“you bought it for him anyway?” you asked, raising a brow.

katsuki shrugged, smirking. “don’t get used to it, kid.” he said to kanji. “this doesn’t mean you get what you want every time.”

kanji nodded enthusiastically, clutching the action figure like it was the greatest treasure in the world.

you rolled your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips. “strict dad, my ass.”

“hey.” katsuki shot back, pulling you closer. “i can be strict and still spoil my kid. he is a bakugou, after all.”

#this is so cute #sigh.. i need my man right NEOWW #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsukibakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x you #mha bakugou #mha x reader

107 notes · View notes

celli-ohs · 2 days ago

Text

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal

pairing: socially awkward!park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: high school au; crack, comedy, fluff

synopsis: What happens when you get seated right next to the most handsome boy in your entire grade? Well you thought it'd be a great excuse to get to know him better, but the guy won't even talk to you! After a mishap in the science lab, you come to find out that Park Sunghoon, the cold-hearted prince of EN High, isn't in fact rude, he's just afraid of women.

before you read: character profiles

warnings: language, stalking mention, cooties, wild subplot(s), loser enhypen, rickrolling, bad april fools pranks

word count: 3.62k

taglist (open): @ancnymcnzjy , @frankenstein852

note: part 1 of my and scene! series, loosely based off en-drama.

Log 4: Monday - April 1st, 2024

“I’m gonna say it. Y/n has been getting on my nerves recently.”

Everyone snaps their necks to look at Riki like he’s just admitted to committing a crime.

“Excuse me?” Sunghoon is appalled. “That’s my friend!”

It’s been about a month since you and Sunghoon had begun his “girlducation” lessons (You named it, not him). And luckily he’s been faring well!

Everyone’s noticed how he’s more open and friendly, and just last week he was finally able to look his homeroom teacher in the eyes and have a full conversation (about how he’s failing Algebra 2).

Talking to his female classmates has gotten easier too. He can’t say much though, as he still gets nervous whenever the conversation gets too complex.

You’ve helped him make leaps and bounds regardless, and Sunghoon can proudly state you two are friends.

“Come on you guys, you know what I’m talking about,” Riki shakes his head, clicking his tongue.

“No. We don’t. What did she do to you?” Jongseong raises a brow. Riki groans, rubbing his face.

“Yeah, there’s no need to be angry at her.” Heesung adds.

“This is exactly why! You guys like her more than me, I’m being replaced!” Riki throws his hands up in the air.

“Uh, no duh we like her more,” Sunoo rolls his eyes. “She’s nicer, funnier, and she’s prettier.”

Riki gasps. “I can be pretty!” He crosses his arms. “I’m prettier than you!” This time Sunoo gasps. “You can’t say shit to me cause do you got some guy stalking you because he thinks your idol material? I think not bitch!”

“Stalker? Sunoo! I thought you got rid of that guy?!” Jaeyun pauses, now the attention is turned towards the younger boy.

“He’s been on my ass recently, he even knows my order at my favorite cafe.” He shrugs as if this isn’t a concerning matter.

“Oh that’s not…” Sunghoon makes a face, eyeing the others.

“That stupid Belift guy is so persistent. It’s like he doesn’t take no for an answer.” Sunoo sighs. They all look at each other, skeptical. "I’ll walk home with you today Sunoo,” Jungwon decides.

“Speaking of stalkers,” Jongseong clears his throat, turning to Riki. “You’re banned from my house.”

“What?” Heeseung squeaks out in shock.

“Oh, so you liked my April Fool’s prank?” Riki grins, dodging Jongseong’s fists. “You went and switched my alarm clock forward! I was on my way to Jungwon’s at 5am this morning,” Jongseong grumbles.

As the others laugh and praise Riki for his joke, Sunghoon laughs the hardest. “Maybe you should keep your clock that way, you won’t ever have to worry about your mom nagging you to leave on time anymore.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes. “Haha, very funny.”

“How did you even do that?” Jaeyun laughs. Riki waves him off, smiling proudly. “Just asked his mom if I could come over to change it really quick while he was at baseball yesterday.”

“My mom was in on it?!” Jongseong looks betrayed. The boys soon make their way inside their school building.

“I totally forgot today was April Fool’s! I should’ve planned something,” Heeseung laughs, opening his locker.

“Don’t worry, I’m just getting started, I’ve got something for all of you.” Riki sends them an ominous smile. “Heh, what do you mean?” Sunghoon tries to hide his fear with a smile.

“Nothing. Just think of today as karma for replacing me with Y/n,” Riki waves before he jogs down the hall, greeting his other friends.

“We never replaced you?!” Jungwon shouts at him, sounding worried. “Oh my god, I’m scared, what if I open my locker and there’s like a dead rat or something?” Sunoo whines.

“No, Riki’s not like that,” Heeseung shakes his head, before turning to the others. “Uh, right?”

“Last year he put ink on my glasses, so when I took them off I had lines all over my face and hands, no one said anything till lunch!” Sunghoon reminds the others.

“In middle school we shared a class, I fell asleep and he clipped a hair extension to the back of my head. No one told me I had a mullet until I got home and showered.” Jungwon recites, shuddering as his fingers ghost over the back of his neck.

“He gets bolder every year, and somehow he convinces people to help him. I think he’s bribing them somehow.” Jongseong concludes.

“What if I just skipped school today? Huh? Anyone wanna join me?” Jungwon tempts the others. “No! If I have to be here, so do you. Plus it’s unfair that only I got pranked so far.” Jongseong huffs.

“Don’t worry Heeseung,” Jaeyun comforts the oldest. “You’re new, Riki will probably go the easiest on you.”

Heeseung doesn’t look pleased by this. As his friends try to figure out a way they can prevent Riki’s chaos from unfolding, Sunghoon slinks off down the hall to a certain locker.

You stand with your back towards him, talking animatedly with your friend Taehyun. As Sunghoon approaches, he signals Taehyun to keep quiet with a finger to his mouth.

“Boo!” He grabs you by the shoulder, causing you to jump. “Ah! Sunghoon!” You huff, punching him lightly in the arm. “Don’t do that!” You smile nonetheless.

“April Fool’s,” Sunghoon grins. You wave him off, your fingers grazing his own. He feels his ears heat up.

“I’m gonna get you later. You better watch out.” You warn him, but Sunghoon only smiles, shaking his head.

Suddenly, Taehyun clears his throat, reminding the two of you that you weren’t alone. “I’m gonna find Hyuka, see you later.” He waves to the both of you before departing.

But before he turns around, Taehyun sends you a wink, causing you to stiffen up.

“What was that?” Sunghoon asks, eyes trained on the back of Taehyun’s head. “Huh? Nothing, let’s get to class.” You cough, pushing Sunghoon down the hall.

“You remembered to do your slides, right?” You ask Sunghoon as you two sit down in your seats. “Yeah, it wasn't that hard.” He nods.

Your history class has just finished a project, and today everyone will be presenting. It was a solo project, but you and Sunghoon helped each other out.

“You’ll be okay talking up there by yourself?” You worry. Sunghoon feels special to know that you of all people care about him. A few days ago you’d voiced your concern to him about his fear or public speaking (around women).

“I think so, I usually just look at Jaeyun.” Sunghoon admits, shrugging.

“Well if you need to, you could look at me.” You suddenly suggest. Sunghoon feels the heat from his ears spread to his cheeks. “O-Okay.” He nods, focusing on his desk.

Even after all his training, you somehow had a way with words that could cause Sunghoon to shut right up again.

Not just that, you still made him nervous, there were moments he found you too beautiful to even look in your direction.

Home room goes by like a breeze, and soon enough it’s time for history, and one by one students begin to present their topics in the front of class.

“Park Sunghoon.” Mr. Song calls out, and Sunghoon awkwardly stands up, grabbing his notes.

“Good luck!” You send him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Just that alone made him feel invincible.

With newfound confidence, Sunghoon strides to the front, pulling up his powerpoint on the history of soybeans. But when he turns to his fellow classmates, his ego disappears and he’s suddenly reminded of how many eyes were on him.

He begins to panic, his words stuck in his throat and his thoughts become sludge. Everyone was looking at him. Everyone was whispering.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Why is he taking so long?”

“Soybeans? That’s so boring.”

He can hear his teacher call out his name, asking him if he’s alright, but Sunghoon feels as if he’s been nailed to the ground, unable to move.

But as he focuses on his feet, he hears someone clear their throat loudly, his eyes shooting up.

You’re smiling. At him.

“You can do it!” You mouth, cheering him on. Suddenly it’s like he can breathe again. He can feel his body moving finally. All thanks to you of course.

“T-Today I’ll be talking about the history of soybeans in Korea.” Sunghoon announces suddenly, eyes trained on you.

You lean back into your seat, smile never disappearing as you listen intently.

“Where the hell is Riki?! I’m gonna kill him.” Jaeyun stomps over to the lunch table. Heeseung shrugs, mouth full of food.

“He’s not here, what happened?”

Jaeyun groans as he sits down, Sunghoon also taking his seat beside him. “He got Rickrolled.”

Jungwon snorts, choking on his food as he laughs. Jaeyun glares, picking at his lunch. “It’s not funny! He cost me my grade!”

“Pfft! Mr. Song docked you 10 points, you still have an A.” Sunghoon reminds him. The youngest of the bunch somehow got control of Jaeyun’s presentation, adding a bunch of memes into his slides.

“And ruined my 100 streak!” Jaeyun whines. “He won’t let me take any extra credit.” He sighs, letting his hunger take over as he shovels food into his face.

“Never gonna give you up! Never gonna let you down! Never gonna run around and desert you!” Riki sings and dances as he arrives at their table. He’s grinning from ear to ear, all the while Jaeyun glares mid-chew.

“Come on Jaeyun!” Riki nudges him. “Sing it with me! Never gonna make you cry-” He’s cut off when Jaeyun lunges at him, catching the boy in a headlock. “Nev-never gonna tell- a lie- ack!” Riki coughs as he continues to sing under Jaeyun’s grip.

“Shut up!” Jaeyun angrily sneers, just as Riki wriggles out of his arms. “Dude,” Riki is breathless. “Put on some deodorant or something! I almost died.” He gags.

“I’m seriously going to kill-”

Jongseong slams down his hand onto the table, making everyone jump.

“Uh, you good?” Jungwon eyes him. Jongseong zeroes in on him, his eyes ablaze. “No I am not good, Yang Jungwon.”

“Uh oh, cat fight,” Sunoo snickers to Sunghoon, earning a chuckle.

“Did I do something?” Jungwon eyes the others, before realizing Jongseong was only looking at him. “What do you think, Yang?!”

Jongseong suddenly digs into his pants pocket, and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, tossing it to the first year. Jungwon catches it with ease, unraveling it suspiciously.

“Oh my God.”

“What? What is it? Show me!” Sunoo snatches the paper, his eyes reading as fast as lightning before he lets out a yelp, covering his mouth as he gawks at Jungwon.

“You’re being dramatic,” Sunghoon finally grabs the paper, sharing it with Jaeyun as Heeseung leans over the table to peer.

The paper turns out to be a list, and it has various names on it, including Jongseong’s and Jungwon’s. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. That is until he reads the title.

“How could you go behind my back and run for Student Council?! You knew I was applying!” Jongseong shouts.

“I didn’t!” Jungwon holds his hands up in the air. “Dude I promise, I think there’s been a mistake, I never even applied to be nominated!”

Jongseong eyes him, but concedes, looking just as confused. “But that doesn’t make sense. You can’t not know you’re running- for Student Body President!”

“Yeah, and to think you’re only running for Treasurer,” Jaeyun jabs. He earns himself a kick to the shin from Jongseong.

Riki is the only one who laughs, though it lingers longer than it should have, prompting suspicion.

“What did you do?” Jungwon questions. The youngest is too busy hugging his sides as he cackles.

“Oh my God! I’m gonna piss myself, you should have seen your face!” Riki wheezes.

“Riki, what did you do?!” Jongseong demands. After a few minutes, the boy’s laughter subsides. “We nominated Jungwon cause he fell asleep in homeroom,” He giggles.

“What?! Riki be serious.”

“Okay,” Riki shrugs. “Technically, I nominated Jungwon, but then everyone else voted for him. I found out the announcements were the same day as April Fool’s and thought it’d be a sick prank.”

“Someone’s feeling sick alright, me, that’s who.” Jongseong sighs. Sunoo pats his arm out of sympathy.

“Jongseong, dude, no one’s gonna actually vote for Jungwon.” Riki scoffs. “What kind of idiot votes a first year as their president?”

“The same idiots who voted for him to be a nominee?” Heeseung reminds him. Riki pauses. “That’s beside the point! Don’t worry, this will all blow over when they see how incompetent he is.”

“Hey! I’m competent!” Jungwon huffs. “I just choose not to be!”

“Make that your slogan, and you might just lose!” Sunoo teases. Jungwon rolls his eyes, rubbing his face.

“Hey guys! I heard the great news, congratulations!” Your sweet voice brings sudden joy to Sunghoon as you greet them all.

“Y/n!” He suddenly shoves Jaeyun to the side to make space for you to sit, causing both him and Riki to topple over. He ignores their complaints as you squeeze yourself in right next to him.

You finally take a good look around the table once you’re settled in.

Sunoo mindlessly picks at his food, beside him Jungwon seems to be experiencing his first ever existential crisis. Jongseong has a vice grip on a very beaten up piece of paper and Heeseung is too busy eating to notice the tension as Jaeyun keeps muttering about his grades. And Riki is blatantly glaring daggers at you.

The only person who seems relatively happy is Sunghoon.

“You guys seem to be having a really, uh- interesting day so far.” You cough. “As if you know what it’s like to be interesting- Ow! Jaeyun elbowed me!” Riki tattles.

“And you deserve it.” Jongseong sneers.

“Tough crowd today,” You whisper to Sunghoon as the others begin to bicker. “Yeah, Riki’s been burning some bridges, lately” He nods.

“Oh? Should I be worried?” You eye the boy, who is in fact now glaring even harder. “No.” Sunghoon shakes his head, trying to remain calm as you lean closer to him. “Um, maybe actually? Yes. Yes you should.” He finally decides.

“Uh huh.” You nod warily. “Well anyways, I was just wondering how you guys plan to run your campaigns? I have some experience since I helped last year when Taehyun was Secretary, and now he’s running for Vice President.”

Jongseong sits up straight, putting on a presentable smile. “I plan on winning by showing my responsibility and care for the students here at EN-High.”

The table goes quiet.

“Was that AI? Sounded like something ChatGPT wrote,” Heeseung looks around. “What? No! I’m trying to sound professional.” Jongseong sighs.

“Well I plan to drop out, I didn’t even want to be nominated, but someone thinks it’s funny to prey on the innocent.” Jungwon stares right at Riki, who is busy scrolling through his phone uninterested.

“I saw an opportunity and I took it, can you blame me?” He shrugs. “Yes! Yes, I can!” Jungwon shouts.

“Okay, so it sounds like both of you are losing.” You mutter beneath your breath. “Look, word of advice: students really value honesty and the ability to be realistic. People like it when you tell the truth.” You explain.

“Didn’t Taehyun win last year because he did magic tricks instead of a speech?” Sunghoon frowns. “Oh! I remember him! He was so cool! How did he pull that chicken out of that hat?!” Heeseung asks excitedly.

“He did have a speech, he just did his magic tricks after.” You correct him. “Also it was a parrot, not a chicken.”

“What does magic have to do with being on the student council?” Sunoo asks, looking confused. “If I vote for Taehyun, can he magically fix my grade back to 100?” Jaeyun questions. “Do you think if I partner with Taehyun, I have a better chance of winning?” Jongseong turns to you.

You hold your hand up to silence them, before looking at each of them individually.

“Apparently more than you’d think.” You say to Sunoo, before shaking your head at Jaeyun. “No, just take the L.”

“And yes, but only if you’re okay with him doing the Sawing-In-Half trick on you during the debate.” You tell Jongseong, who looks pale now.

Before you can say any more, the warning bell rings, signaling lunch would be over in five minutes. “Alright, see you guys later,” You stand up, getting out of your seat. “Let me know if you need more advice.” You joke.

“I’ll see you in class?” Sunghoon asks, as if you two weren’t seatmates. You laugh, and teasingly pat his arm, causing his whole body to burn.

“Yeah, see you!” You wave, running off. He watches you as you return to your friends at your table across the cafeteria, his heart swelling.

“Oooh! Someone’s got a crush!” Sunoo suddenly giggles.

Sunghoon feels his stomach turn excitedly, his ears burning a bright red. “Shut up!” He mumbles, covering his face.

His friends begin to tease him, Sunghoon shakes his head furiously, though he peeks through his hands to glance at you once more.

When you laugh at something Kai says, he begins to wonder if his friends are on to something.

“Ta-da!”

You’re grinning as you flip your paper around to present to Sunghoon.

He looks up, blinks, then frowns.

“You like to eat stomachs?” He reads your calligraphy. “Huh? No, I like to eat pears.” You look at your paper yourself, confused.

Sunghoon begins to laugh, before standing up to walk around the table to your side. “You need to press down lightly on this character.” He instructs, leaning over you.

Instead of taking your brush like he usually did when he showed you the correct way, he grabbed your hand.

“L-Like this,” He stutters, leaning even closer to you as you allow him to guide you on the paper. Your hand is really small compared to his own, his fingers are almost half as long.

Your skin is soft and warm, he doesn't want to let go.

“Oh!” You suddenly exclaim, and he jumps back, releasing your hand.

“So that’s how you do it? Let me try again.” You begin to attempt again on your own. He watches over you as you try your best, all of your focus on your calligraphy.

He finds the way you scrunch your face up as you focus endearing, you’ve made a lot of progress.

Your reattempt is still not the best, but Sunghoon can admit this time he could actually read it. “You’re doing a lot better,” He says as he returns to his seat. “Really? I’ve been practicing at home,” You admit.

“You’ve been practicing?” Sunghoon repeats, surprised at your dedication. If he were being honest, he thought your interest in calligraphy was only confined to the old library.

“Yeah,” You smile, getting shy. “I want to show you my best.”

Oh.

The two of you keep eye contact as Sunghoon feels his face and ears begin to heat up. He was probably red all over from just that one compliment. Didn’t help that you looked gorgeous while staring at him.

“I-I think-uh- You’re doing a really good job so far.” He finally looks away, his nerves getting the best of him.

“Thank you.” You hum, smiling to yourself. “Oh, it’s already almost four, we should probably get going.” You say, and begin cleaning up.

The two of you quickly grab your stuff and sweep down the table before heading out.

Outside the sun is still bright, yet it’s lower in the sky than before. You both walk down the street, shoulder to shoulder. Every time you bump into each other, Sunghoon feels his heart race.

“Hey, want one?” You suddenly ask, opening your palm to reveal two pieces of creamy milk candy. The bright bunny logo catches his eye.

The idea of sharing candy with you is exhilarating to Sunghoon. Your sweet nature mimicked the sweetness of the candy awaiting before him.

“Thank you,” He smiles at you, letting his fingers graze your palm.

Together you two unwrap the candies, poppin them into your mouths. Sunghoon takes a bite and-

“What the fuck?!” You spit your candy back into its wrapper, face contorted in absolute disgust. Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate to do the same, gagging as he does so.

“This is a crayon!” Sunghoon grimaces, wiping his mouth with his handkerchief. “Where the hell did you get these?!”

You shake your head, trying to get the taste out of your mouth, but to no avail. “I don’t- I don’t remember I just- Riki handed some to me, and-”

“Wait,” Sunghoon interrupts you. “Riki gave you these?”

You nod, first confused, then realizing what he meant. “Oh my god I’m so stupid.” You groan. “I should have known when he randomly apologized to me, he even suggested I share them with you!”

“He’s always one step ahead,” Sunghoon glares into the distance. “Ugh I can’t get the taste out of my mouth!” You spit.

“I swallowed a little, will I die?” He worries, voicing his concern. “I need water- juice, I need something!” You look around for a vending machine.

“There! A Family Mart!” Sunghoon points down the road. He turns to you with an eager expression, holding his hand out to you.

“Come on, let’s go!” He urges. You hurriedly grab his hand, and the two of you run down the street, groans of disgust soon turning into giggles of excitement.

Sunghoon's lesson he learned today was that he doesn’t mind holding your hand. In fact, he likes it.

He likes you.

Log 3: Wednesday - March 6th, 2024 | Log 5: Wednesday - May 15th, 2024

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal masterlist | and scene! series masterlist | kpop masterlist

reply/comment for taglist!

75 notes · View notes

angelpuns · 3 days ago

Text

50AU Part 34/Finale

Donnie would like to say that the worst 10 minutes of his life was when he had to watch as Leo sacrifice himself with no way to stop him.

He would like to say that.

But now that he'd seen Leo's memory of that moment, watching his twin throw himself into another dimension was taking second to this moment.

The moment in which he described what had happened during the curse to Leo.

Because he could have lied. He wasn't good at it, but he could have at least tried to lie. It would keep Leo from worrying about the things he had done during the curse, and it would keep Donnie from having to tell him about what happened during the memory spell.

Except, Leo looked so tired. And Donnie was sick of lying to him.

And he was fairly certain Leo would find a way to learn the truth on his own, anyway, whether Donnie wanted him to or not.

He slowly went through the events of the curse. How well the first day had gone, how Leo had ran the second one. How he'd been injured and just kept running, and how they had been so sure they got through to him. Only for Leo to have been acting.

It felt like so much when he was saying it aloud, but it…it really had only been a week.

And barely even that. But so much had happened that it felt like forever.

Leo's face fell as Donnie kept going, as he described what had happened day by day.

As he suspected, Leo had found out about their fight on his own. Leo hadn't said anything until Donnie brought up the fight, so it was a little surprising when he interrupted.

“ And then I-”

“ Did it hurt?” Leo asked, voice small. He had shrunken in the booth, shoulders hunched and eyes staring down at the table, “ When I…when I attacked you?” .

Donnie blinked. He lightly touched his beak, which was thankfully no longer tender. It had hurt a lot, but Leo already looked so guilty.

“ No, it didn't hurt-”

“ why are you lying?” He hissed, glancing up to make eye contact with Donnie, “ don't lie, Dee, I- I would be fucking scared of me, too”

Scared?

Leo thought they were scared? Of him?

It was almost laughable, really, but Donnie had enough self control to keep himself serious.

“...is that what this is about? You think we're scared of you?” He asked, unable to keep the humor out of his voice. Nothing about the situation was funny, but for Leo to think they were scared of him was- well, it was downright hilarious.

Leo didn't seem to agree, though, looking away guiltily.

“ Lee, c'mon, as if any of us could be scared,” He tried, “ It was pretty wild to see you so…violent, don't get me wrong, but-”

“ But I hurt you! And-and apparently I hurt Mikey and Raph, too!” Leo retorted, suddenly sitting up again, “ I mean- I-I could have seriously injured one of you or even-”

He snapped his mouth shut and shook his head, like he didn't really want to say it.

Donnie sighed, “ Look, ‘Nardo, that wasn't really you, I mean, you were cursed-”

“ You don't get it! That- That was still me!” Leo hissed, throwing his hands up in the air, “I am angry! And violent! And- and terrible!”

“Leo, we're not scared of you, even if you are like that, it-it doesn't matter, we know you didn't mean to!” Donnie protested.

He wasn't really sure where all this had come from. Leo claiming to be angry and violent. Sure, Donnie had seen Leo get mad before. And he could really get mad. But it wasn't like he couldn't control it.

Donnie remembered when they were kids and Leo would get so mad he'd just cry. He'd be so upset that it wouldn’t have anywhere to go, and he'd just burst into tears and run away.

Once, Donnie had followed him to try and apologize, only to walk in on Leo throwing his things off his bed and screaming into a pillow. So Donnie of all people knew his twin could get mad.

“Raph gets mad all the time, and we're not scared of him, right?” Donnie tried, “ you're not scared of Raph, are you?”

“‘Course not…” Leo murmured. He rested his forehead on the table.

“ ….Even though Raph tried to…to kill you? During the invasion…?”

They both looked up at the voice, Donnie blinking in surprise. Raph and Mikey had shown up almost out of nowhere. Right. Donnie forgot to leave a note.

“ Raph….I'd never be scared of you,” Leo sighed, “ that's- it's different- ”

“ Its not. Leo, we get that you were still yourself during the curse,” Mikey said matter of factly, “ But the point is that you didn't know it was us. If you had actually believed us, would you have done any of those things?”

Leo scoffed, “ of course I wouldn't!”

“ Okay, then, it's settled. We're not scared of you, and we have no reason to be. Got it?”

Leo frowned, but nodded a bit.

He looked up at Donnie.

A small part of him was hoping Leo would be satisfied and not ask to hear more, especially not the whole ‘ went into his memory and accidentally saw some shit’, but he knee his dum-dum twin wouldn't be satisfied. He wouldn't have been either, if he were in Leo's shoes.

“ Donnie, what happened after that?”

Donnie took a deep breath, “ Let's- before we get into that let's go home…”

Leo glanced around, seemingly just noticing that they were the only ones left in the restaurant, save for Hueso and Leo's….boyfriend watching from the kitchen.

“Shit, I forgot about- uh, lemme apologize to Hueso and uh- “ His cheeks flushed as he gestured to the waiter, Donnie unable to hold back a snort. It was a little funny that Leo thought they didn't know. About him being gay, that is. He’d actually hid his boyfriend pretty well, even from Donnie.

They watched as Leo hurried over to Hueso and apologized, the skeleton waving it off like he had last time. Donnie planned on giving him a full kitchen remodel to make up for all the damage they kept doing to his restaurant.

Then, Leo turned to the waiter and pulled him into a tight, squeezing hug. He glanced back at his brothers with red cheeks before giving the waiter a peck on the cheek and hurrying back to their side.

“ Ohohoooo, Looks like Leo's got some explaining to doo~” Mikey teased, “ Dude, Raph is gonna hunt that waiter down and give him the shovel talk!”

“ Raph is not!” Raph retorted, glancing at Leo, “ unless he ain't treatin’ you right already. then Raph'll have to talk to him,”

“ Oh my god can we please just go?” Leo whined, already cutting open a portal, “ I didn't plan on having so many emotional talks tonight and I just wanna get this one over with,”

Raph and Mikey stepped into the portal, Donnie starting after them.

He was…scared. Scared that once Leo found what he did, he'd never forgive them. Never forgive Donnie.

It made him shudder with anxiety, wringing his hands as Leo followed him through the portal. They emerged in the living room, Mikey and Raph already taking up two of the beanbags.

Leo closed the portal and slumped into Dad's chair. Donnie swallowed down the nausea at the sight.

“ Okay, chop chop Dee, I want to get all the emotional talking out so then you all can tease me about Yuichi and all that and we can all go back to normal, ‘kay?” Leo sighed, looking far too comfortable in the chair that they'd trapped him in. Twice.

“ Well..well, after that, Draxum finished the potion and…” Donnie started, starring to pace. His fingers ached with how hard he kept squeezing him, but it was the only thing keeping him from just running away. He hated this he hated this he hated this!

He hated that he didn't know how Leo would react. Obviously he didn't give a shit if Leo decided to fight him again. That would make sense, at least.

But it would hurt more knowing that Leo was well within his rights to just…dedide he didn't want to interact with Donnie ever again. That he wasn't to be trusted. That Donnie could never be trusted with anything again now that he'd done this.

Leo could be understanding, sure. But he was the king of holding grudges. Rest assured that if this upset Leo, Donnie would be living in the aftermath of it for..probably forever.

But he could not keep lying about stuff to his already confused twin, he couldn't keep breaking promises.

He described the whole memory spell, that Draxum had modified it so they could stay there longer, that they first had cleansed the memory of him falling off the roof.

“ and then we were….it was your memory of the invasion, back when…when you decided to…” Donnie swallowed back his anxiety. He was pacing back and forth. He'd been doing so as he spoke, afraid that if he sat down he wouldn't be able to say it. He couldn't stop to watch Leo's expression, to try and puzzle out his reaction to what Donnie said. He had to keep moving or he'd never be able to say it.

“ But- something happened. We were too far, the item was your sword, and- and you were about to portal into the prison dimension,” Donnie sighed, rubbing at his arms thoughtlessly. He finally stopped and looked at his twin.

His expression was like something out of a drama. Wide-eyed realization set in. Leo blinked, staring at him incredulously.

He smiled faintly, a lopsided, shaky thing that was nothing like Leo's usual smirk or even his more rare, soft smile. This one didn't fit his face right, didn't curve in the right way, it hardly looked real.

“ You…didn’t. You wouldn't…” he chuckled, standing up off the couch and stepping up to Donnie. He put his hands on Donnie's shoulders, grip not overly tight, but definitely noticeable. Like he was purposefully holding back, “ Donnie, please tell me you didn’t,”

Donnie sighed shakily, “ I didn't have a choice,”

Leo’s strange, crooked smile cracked into a shaky frown, his expression changing a thousand miles a minute. It didn't take the years of practice Donnie had had trying to interpret his expressions to know that Leo was angry. He pushed away from Donnie - the softshell only stumbling a little. It wasn't nearly as hard as Leo could have pushed him.

His hands shook with the effort it must have taken to hold back. The mask of control sliding down before Donnie had the opportunity to see Leo get angry again. Not that he wanted to, but it wasn't as if it would be a strange occurrence now. Not after the curse, anyway.

“ You- you promised,” Leo bit out, taking a few steps back. His eyes were glassy, like he might cry. It had been years since Donnie had seen Leo cry out of frustration like that. He was sure it had happened, but never in the view of anyone else.

“ you promised you wouldn't- you wouldn’t ask about that anymore, but you just had to know, didn't you, ‘Tello?” He bit out, voice shaking with barely contained anger, “ You just- you just had to see it, huh? Co-couldn't even wait to ask again?”

“ It- it wasn't on purpose! I had to get the sword, and you were already teleporting, and I couldn't- I couldn't get out!” Donnie retorted, knowing he must have sounded desperate. But he needed Leo to understand it was an accident, “ I tried not to look, I-I promise, but you made me!”

“I made you?” Leo scoffed, tears rolling down his cheeks. He was laughing, throwing his arms up in the air at what must have felt like a cruel joke, “ oh I'm sure! I'm sure I made you follow me in, made you watch as I- as he-”

He shut himself up, snapping his mouth closed and shaking his head.

“ I never wanted you to see that,” He bit out, “ I would never want anyone to see that”

“ I didn't mean you as in- as in you- you,” Donnie sighed. He felt so defeated. He was so tired still, even if things were fine again. Because they didn't feel fine. Leo was mad at him. Mad at him. And rightfully so, but…it still hurt.

Sure, Donnie had been avoiding him lately. He just…he hadn't wanted to tell Leo what happened. He thought maybe if they didn't talk, Donnie wouldn't have the opportunity to tell Leo what he'd done. And eventually they'd all forget and move on.

“ your…the inner Leo made me watch. I promise, I tried to-”

“Oh so now you're saying that-that I must have subconsciously wanted you to see it!? I bet you told Mikey and Raph everything, didn't you!?” Leo chuckled, eyes unfocused. He was hardly even looking at Donnie anymore, pacing back and forth in a way that mirrored what Donnie had been doing before, though it was far more erratic, “ I bet everyone knows now how - how broken I am and how scared I was and-”

“I’m not saying- I-I didn't tell them!” Donnie cut him off, grabbing Leo's arm to stop him, “ Leo, I didn't want to- I didn't mean to see it, I promise! I’m sorry, it-it was a mistake!”

Leo wrenched his arm away with a scowl, eyes still unfocused. Like he wasn't really listening. “ you promise, huh?”

It was silent for a moment, Donnie unsure what to say that hadn't already been said.

“I need..I need to go..” He murmured, turning away, “ Please, don't…don’t try and- I just need to be alone…’

He still had his sword on him from his impromptu pizza trip, and he quickly cut a portal and stepped through it. Donnie just stood there.

He didn't know what to do anymore. How to fix it. He'd finally managed to fix the curse but how was he supposed to fix what he'd done? It had been an accident, but still.

He glanced back to Mikey and Raph, who were watching the entire thing with concern.

“ You guys…i think- I think I really messed up..”

Donnie didn't tell them what he'd seen. He didn't dare fuck that up again. But he did tell Raph and Mikey about the promise he made with Leo, about how he had purposefully kept the truth from his twin the entire week. And about how Leo had found his security tapes from before.

He almost wanted to delete them, to get rid of any evidence that Leo had been…. But he didn't touch them. If Leo wanted to know the truth, he should be able to see it for himself.

“He’s never gonna forgive me…” Donnie murmured, now cradling a cup of tea. Mikey was making breakfast, even if it was a little too early. He'd urged them all to eat something, even if Donnie was especially not hungry.

It had barely been an hour, not even that, but it felt like Leo was going to be mad at him forever. And he couldn't fix it. He didn't know how anymore. He didn't know Leo anymore.

It all just kept circling back to the same thing. If he had done better. If he had paid more attention to the changes Leo was going through. If he had been able to keep Leo from hurting him or if he had been faster or if-

He didn't know. It was done, now, but he wished he could just go back and-and maybe even take the hit. It was his fault they were fighting in witchtown in the first place. At least if he had forgotten his family, it wouldn't have been- well, wouldn't it have?

Leo was better at reading people, though. And a much better strategist. He could have kept Donnie from doing anything too permanent, kept him from running off.

Ugh, this was getting them nowhere! Wishing things were different just made everything feel worse. He needed to find a way to fix it, not dwell on it further.

“ D'you think Leo hates me?” He asked, not realizing he'd said aloud until Raph reached over and put a hand on his shoulder.

“ Nah, he doesn't hate you,” Raph rumbled, squeezing Donnie's shoulder a bit, “he’ll figure out it wasn't your fault soon enough,”

Donnie nodded, though the thought didn't comfort him. It was his fault, after all. He'd thought he could get the sword. Not to mention Leo was so stubborn, he was probably never going to forgive Donnie.

“ Yeah, maybe..” Was all he said, knowing full well that Leo probably did hate him and would never forgive him and-

He sighed, and took a sip of tea.

There was no fixing this, was there?

Leo only ignored him for a couple of days. He'd bounced between a couple of random beaches on the West Coast before returning that same night. Donnie watched his tracker for a while that first day. How he seemed to be pacing a lot. Like he was deciding whether or not to forgive Donnie.

Which, he shouldn't. Except when he was doing that open and honest thing with Mikey, Mikey told him not to think like that. Because it wasn't his fault, even though Donnie was pretty sure it was.

As much as he hated discussing his feelings, it kind of…helped. A little. It made him less sure that Leo was going to hate him forever, at least. But not entirely sure, as he would have liked to been.

Finally, after two days of the cold shoulder, Leo came and knocked on his lab door. Donnie was trying to distract himself with work, but he'd been having trouble with the coding on Shelldon 4.0 and it was leaving him more frustrated than distracted.

Then again, he'd been trying to replicate Sheldon for nearly 6 months now with hardly any progress. That would frustrate anybody.

“ I took a nap earlier, Raph, I'm not going to bed anytime soon!” He sighed, knowing it was probably Raph trying to get him to sleep, like he usually did. He did nap earlier, so at least he wasn't lying.

“ Not Raph,”

Donnie turned to see Leo standing in the doorway instead, leaning up against the frame with a faint frown.

“ oh..” Donnie didn't know what to say. He could apologize again, but he didn't know if it would make things better or worse. He couldn’t tell what Leo was thinking. It seemed he could never tell these days.

Leo sighed and shut the door behind him, stepping into the lab without invitation. Not that he needed it. As much as Donnie liked to protest his presence, he never really minded it. He would lock the door if he didn't want Leo to come in, after all.

“ So…I’ve been thinking..” Leo murmured, rubbing at his arms a bit, “ I don't…I don't think its…that terrible that you…saw everything…”

Donnie blinked in surprise. It was about the last thing he thought Leo would say, especially knowing how well Leo held a grudge.

“ I just mean- maybe it's…not so bad to have someone else know and all…” He continued, “ cause- cause at least someone else can tell me it was real. And it’s okay to be…upset and- ughhh, this is too real for me right now!”

He ran a hand down his face and looked at Donnie.

“ I just- I don't want you to, like, pity me or- or- think I'm…weak or fucking whatever..” He muttered, cheeks pink, “ cause I survived, didn't I? And- and I’m fine, so-”

Donnie chuckled faintly. He dropped what he was doing and buried his face in his hands. He wanted to scream.

“ I didn't think that for even a second,” He sighed, leaning back in his chair, “ Leo, you may be an idiot, but you're one of the strongest idiots I know. Slash SRS on the strongest part and slash j on the idiot part, just in case that wasn't clear”

Leo snorted, leaning against Donnie's desk, “We’re not really good at this open and honest stuff, are we?”

“ No, and I never claimed to be,” Donnie sighed. He stood up and opened his arms for a hug. He kind of needed it himself, actually.

Leo gave him a tight squeeze back and they stood in the silence of the lab together for another moment before Donnie finally, lightly pushed him away.

“ Okay, enough lovey-dovey twin stuff,” Donnie sighed, “ are you…mad at me?”

He hated that he couldn't tell just from the hug alone, but he needed to know. He needed to know Leo wasn't gonna hate him forever, even if he seemed to have forgiven the action.

“ No, I'm not mad at you,” Leo sighed, “ I just want..I want everything to go back to normal. I know it…it probably won't, but I can dream, right?”

Donnie sighed, slumping back into his chair, “i don't think it will go back to Normal normal. But…I will try my best to make it feel that way,”

Leo leaned back against his desk with a faint smile, crossing his arms and watching as Donnie got back to work.

And it was about as normal as it could have been.

No curse. No grudges. No looming worries, for now.

---

this is not a great ending, I am super aware of that, but sometimes it's good to just finish the thing. I do wanna write a REAL fic for 50au, okay? And I will eventually. This was a decent start at the very least.

So that's how it ends. Keepin' it open ended was a good idea methinks. The google doc for this is lik 50,000 words (minus the 1000 for the OTHER outline i did at the beginning) and like 130 pages so yay?

Enjoy (or don't)

part 1 | Part 33

#rottmnt #art #fanart #digital art #rottmnt leo #rottmnt fanart #comic #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt art #rottmnt comic #fanfic #50au #rottmnt 50au #fanfiction

82 notes · View notes