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sunnami · 1 year ago

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❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders + lily x reader.

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.”

You blink.

“Get the fuck out of my room!”

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making.

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls.

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!”

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze. Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!”

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly.

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.”

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.”

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say.

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies.

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—”

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.”

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you.

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”)

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—”

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.”

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?”

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.”

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.”

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home.

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that.

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”)

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.”

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze.

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.”

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much.

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile.

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.”

“I know.” Harry grins.

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.”

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally.

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.”

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow.

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers.

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.”

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.”

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you.

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast.

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.)

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?”

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.”

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you.

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.”

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze.

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.”

“Oi!”

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.”

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.”

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary.

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.”

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”)

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.”

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.”

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!”

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?”

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically.

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name.

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now.

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?”

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.”

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right?

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.”

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily.

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.”

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.”

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable.

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced.

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear.

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.”

Harry’s eye twitches.

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.”

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly.

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.”

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?”

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.”

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.”

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.”

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading.

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands.

“In your dreams!” You shrill.

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.”

Harry nods. “Is it time already?”

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.”

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?”

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.”

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?”

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?”

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat.

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.”

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this.

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes.

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.”

“One date, then.”

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?”

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.”

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.”

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you.

“And I want to—”

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—”

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration.

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases.

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words.

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.”

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.”

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.)

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance.

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.”

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm.

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.”

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.”

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.”

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth.

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it.

He falls in love.)

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.”

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?”

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.”

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.”

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.”

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.”

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

#hp angst #hp fluff #hp imagine #hp x reader #james potter x reader #lily evans x reader #marauders angst #marauders fluff #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #remus lupin x reader

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silcobrainrot · 2 months ago

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And yeah I know they gave us the little cop out with Cait investigating the ventilation ducts in the hex gates and her glitchy “the end” frame and the airship she said she was gonna ride in at the end and I don’t care. It doesn’t make it better. I love ambiguous endings, that’s not what an ambiguous ending is. That’s the coward’s way out of committing to an ending. And they reused the music and prop from when she genuinely tried to kill herself. Everything was pointing towards this being her death, save for a few isolated frames of animation you have to pause to be able to acknowledge or process at all. If you have to pause to pick up on a detail it’s not “obvious.” Casual viewers—who make up the majority of audiences no matter how big you think fandoms are—are not going to pause to pic up new details. They will take it at face value. They get all the shock value and emotional reactions to killing her while leaving the back door open for themselves if they decide to do something with her later. It’s cheap, lazy, and cowardly.

They marketed so heavily on this being the end of this story but that’s bullshit because it was all a setup for whatever’s coming next, which they confirmed in the credits. Things weren’t concluded. And I’m seeing people say it’s “good” and “beautiful” that Jinx would do this so Vi can let go of her guilt and be free blah blah blah you know she could get over her guilt and get free of her past with Jinx still alive, right. Both Jinx and Vi can survive their pasts without Jinx being dead or faking her death. Faked deaths are fucking stupid and always, always, a lazy writing decision when they come at the end of a story. Very rarely are they not lazy no matter where they are placed but they are never good or satisfactory conclusions.

***SPOILERS FOR THE FINALE DO NOT READ UNTIL YOUVE WATCHED***

I know TBSkyen has told us to sit with it for a while before deciding how we feel about the ending but I’m sorry I don’t think any amount of sitting with it is going to make me okay with them killing Jinx. The way she died wasn’t satisfying, the sacrifice meant almost nothing, and all the effort of those around her to keep her alive ended up going nowhere. Isha ends up being completely pointless because she’s only a plot device not a proper character and Jinx dies anyway. I don’t see how this was a satisfying conclusion to her narrative arc and character arc, I just don’t. Any supplemental material that makes it so she’s still alive in the games doesn’t matter to me because in the Arcane canon she is dead. To anyone not playing the games she is dead.

It’s making it hard for me to even want to rewatch it or enjoy what else was there because I’m just. I’m so goddamn fucking tired of seeing mentally ill characters have to die to lift the burden of their existence from others. Vi was so well adjusted and happy after. No mourning. No funeral/end of life rights. Her death was sudden and contrived just for some extra shock value. It didn’t feel like a tragic death, like out of a tragedy, bc this season wasn’t structured like a tragedy the way the first season felt. Her death didn’t feel inevitable and I’m furious because out of everyone. Out of EVERYONE. She deserved to live through this. She deserved to come out the other side of all her pain and suffering. She deserved to walk away from it all. But she didn’t. Because Borderlines are evil people and people with DID are evil and the only way they can redeem themselves is to die. The only happy ending is with them dead. The other two characters who showed suicidal ideation are also functionally dead. Whether or not they’re literally dead, the story’s over, they’re as good as dead.

Dont even get me started on how in her last moments she doesn’t see Isha or Silco (the two characters we SEE HER have a genuine familial bond with), only Vander (whom she has two sequences with in s1, the longer of which had no dialogue and was still less than a minute). She burned down The Last Drop—which she associated with Silco more than Vander now—to break the cycle of violence by killing the last connection to her past, she’s finally free, and then she fucking. Dies. Anyway.

God I want to enjoy what we did get but I just. I’m so tired of the end of my story always being that I have to die so other people can live.

#arcane season 2 #arcane spoilers #arcane s2 #arcane s2 spoilers #season 2 spoilers #spoilers #vent post #rant post #I woke up several times last night because I kept dreaming of dying #the dreams didn’t always end when I died #I got to experience what happens to your consciousness after you die and I didn’t like it #in one of them I got to experience what happens when the entire universe gets snuffed out and I also didn’t like it #everything was over #I didn’t like it at all #no piece of media has ever done this to me #this wasn’t catharsis #this wasn’t the good kind of pain and sorrow I felt when Silco died #when it felt preventable yet inevitable because of who the characters are and the decisions they’ve made #this was contrived bullshit and it hurt me deeply #I didn’t realize how much I connected with Jinx until they killed her #she is who I was supposed to be. who I would have been if I didn’t get help #I was at my worst when I was 18-19 and I was supposed to die too #just once. just once I want one of us to survive.#im tired of mentally ill characters being killed so the more well adjusted ones can be free

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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 3 months ago

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No More Chances

✧ M A S T E R L I S T ✧

Yandere Platonic Batfamily x Neglected Regressing GN Reader

In which a sad little child of a Wayne is somehow curse by the fates to live again and again, facing death in the end just to relive their fears, trauma and neglect from their own family.

Will they find away to end this looping nightmare or to live another reset again just to find a good gooddamn ending?.

Warning this Fic will contain:

Suicide and Suicidal thoughts, Death [Mainly Y/N's], Violence, Cursing, Drugs and substances, Guns and other weapons, Family Neglect, Talk about traumas or phobias, out of characters from the DC characters, mixed versions of the Batfamily [Will be mentioned if there are changes or implications of specific depictions of comics, games or other media for DC characters], Typos [ I can edit if there are typos but don't expect perfect or poetic English from me cuz I'm not that great in English ] and lastly This is NOT a Jinx!Reader I only had inspo of jinx and Arcane reference for this they are not fully Jinx because if they are then that would be a different fic now.

EXTRA EXTRA NOTE :

For the love of anything out there if you do not like to consume these type of fics in tumblr, DO NOT message or comment to me about how you don't like to read yandere or even x reader fanfictions in your feed, it's not my fault, I don't control your recommendation or what pops up in your screen, you have fingers SCROLL AWAY.

--- 0 0 0 0 ---

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1 : Dear Mother, Goodbye

Chapter 2 : A New Reset, An Old Story

Chapter 3 : Hello Father, Die

Chapter 4 : Oh Love, Why can't I See You?

Chapter 5 : Poor Goldilocks, Nothing Is Just Right

.......

[ O N G O I N G ]

Headcannons

--- ? ? ? ---

Fate's Chapter Assessment

[ 0 ] ,

No More Chances Q&A [#No More Chances Q&A]

Flasbacks&Babies

Doodles& Hallucinations

BadguyOrNot?

-✧✦✧-INTERTWINED FATES-✧✦✧-

Melody composed by fate [song fic]

Death by Family

Father

Sons

Daughters

Grandfather

✧✦✧ CRACKED VISIONS ✧✦✧

Imma finna rock yo' shit

Black Betty Bam Balam

〖 = ✧ = 〗

A taglist will be made if you want to be updated quickly, I only tag when I reblog a chapter so please comment your @ below thank you so much.

Q&A for No More Chances are open (Don't ask for updates you already know why I don't post much)

[ If you're having trouble finding the chapters for this fic all of them will be tag with #No More Chances or find #Masterlist ] (all images are from mixed media of screenshots, Pinterest, tumblr and google)

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animeshotsh · 3 months ago

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When I lost you | Young!Silco x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death - Reader is sick - Silco is still not a gang lord - Silco does not want Reader to try any drug - Italics = memories - ANGST - grammar mistakes -

When Silco was alone in his office, when he knew not even Jinx was around his mind liked to go back in time to see memories of a different time, so different that it almost seemed like these were dreams.

He remembers you well. Your face, your body, your eyes, they never once lied to him. You always showed him your true colors and motivations. You wanted a better place, a future, a good place for the next generation. Stop the undercity of being know as a place of crime.

You wanted so much.

"What's on your mind Sil?" You asked one hand under your chin as you studied him.

Once again Silco was thinking on how...how to improve lives, how could he and Vander make the undercity different?

"Nothing important" He had said "Just thinking on how you look today" He added smirking when you blushed at his words.

"Charming, I hope this does not mean you or Vande did something...because your sweet talking wont work on me"

"Doesnt always?" He asked pulling you on his lap making you laught. He smelled your hair and let out a content sound. He liked this, this moment. He wanted to stop time and be here forever.

The silence was broken by a heavy cought from you, one that made you have to stand up to breath the little air you could.

"Are you alright Love?" Silco asked getting closer making circles on your back as he saw how you nodded still breathing hard.

"Yeah, i may get a flu soon" You had dissmissed with a smile

Silco blamed himself. For how he have acted, faster or different, for not getting you out of the mines.

"(Y/N)..." Silco started seeing how you were having a hard time just walking the stairs, he had noticed how you also seemed to be slower, a side comment Vander had said on how you almost got caught on a recent work.

"Im fine" You responded back, trying to ignore the pain on your chest.

Once you two made it to the top you took a big long breath.

"You are not fine. I can see it, Vander can see it, everybody can see it" Silco said getting more frustrated by you

"Then all of them are wrong" You declared, letting yourself fall on your couch. Your eyes starting to close.

"You cant even stay awake"

"I have done much work in the mines. Im just tired"

"Then stop, I can help you, i can provide for you!!" Silco almost screamed

"You know I cant leave, what if i need the dam job later? No one will take me in. Every job out there is managed by them, i cant just leave"

"You are killing yourself"

Silco groaned at that, he wanted to go back and beat up his younger self. It was like his words had set off a curse.

Because less than a week from that talk you ended leaving the mines after collapsing and almost causing a fatal mistake.

Silco entered your home. He went to your room were he saw you reading a old book, pages yellow.

"I got you some medicine" Silco started getting it out from a bag well hided.

"Silco stop, these are too expensive!!" You said again even since he had started to get you different ones but no one seemed to work.

"Shut up, just try it" Silco said passing it to you who took it making a face.

"Its terrible"

"Well its not supposed to teast good, its supposed to cure you" Silco responded going to your kitchen to heat up some soup.

When he returned you were deep sleep. He hoped that medicine was doing the trick.

Saddly it did not.

Weeks passed and Silco saw how you became more and more weak. Pale like a ghost, eyes no longer shining but almost out of life.

"Im dying" you said to him one afternoon "Im dying and you cant do anything about it so stop beating yourself"

Even now Silco felt like your words reached him.

"No, i cant let you die" Silco said hands rubbing his hair

"Uh, i can try that thing they are selling now..."

"No" Silco had say "Next thing we need is you getting addicted"

You rolled your eyes but did agree.

The soft rain from outside was like odd music, for a couple that was seeing its end.

"I love you" You said taking his hand "Im happy i got to live my life with you"

If Silco had know these were going to be your last words he would have given you a better response. More than "I love you" and more than false promises.

He had become what you asked him not to, and while he was making on his own way a better life for the city a part of him hated himself. Hated that he had somehow betrayed you.

"Im sorry" He whispered to no one. "Im so sorry (Y/N).

#arcane x y/n #arcane x reader #arcane x you #silco x reader #silco x you

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gamblersdoll · 2 months ago

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spit, wlw, scissoring, dildos, slapping, hair pulling, multi hcs, blindfolds, smoking weed.

a/n: i am seeing so many clips of s2 of arcane and all i wanna do is beat my meat and cry. HELP.

𝒱𝐼 (𝒱𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑒𝓉)

vi was a switch, at times becoming so needy when it was ovulation week and her clit throbbed from basically every and anything you did— (smells, taste from your lip gloss, how you did your hair), and she became more loose when it came down to the t.

but with vi? she could be impatient, the leaning dominance from her spilling from her actions and kissing your lips like she would die soon. moreover, her knee would always end up between your thighs. “cmon, baby,” she always whispered when she wasnt getting what she wanted. she cupped your jaw, essentially forcing your tongue out to lick a flat line up yours and to feel your folds— that were more than drenched, pulsate when she moved your hips back nd forward. “can feel her talkin to me..”

“vivi..” you moaned, surprised by how she knew where your specific body parts were at. you feel the back of her blind fold, to see if possibly it cane loose— yet, it was still tight. “cheater.” you chuckle, she does too. “want to taste you.. is that okay?”

“sounds good.. wanted you to for so long.”

once she was on her back, it was all over when your lips met her clit. she jumped a little bit, not having anyone other than caitlyn and her prison wife touch her.. it felt so surreal all over again, and to have her pierced nipples be tugged softly and played at.

she feels everything, especially with the christina that she pierced herself.

but— she feels it all, how many taste buds you had, how many nerves you know you could feel. “like that, vi?” you asked so softly for her, looking up to see her blindfolded head nod so eagerly. that was until the needy shit pressed your head down to force your tongue in her pulsing hole. “mmff!”

“savor it all— please, don’t go.” she muttered, her hips thrusting up to your mouth by accident. her hands move for her, softly slapping your cheek to egg you on. “sorry..”

“shh, shh.. its okay, mama.”

𝒥𝐼𝒩𝒳

jinx was almost like you, being so far gone when it came to your sessions and how heated the both of you get. she sees you as some big mistress that always called shots.

when in reality, you were a bottom that loved being pleased and to be used.

so all she knew to do was get a double ended dildo, to please herself and to please you. it feels even better doing it with someone who was eager for her, for you. because when you moved simultaneously, rhythmically, in sync— your clits bumped together. and when you pulled away? you could feel each others slick separate in despair.

“hnng..!” she squealed in her throat, a hand covering her mouth and she squeezes a breast of yours. “you— you look so pretty, sweetie.” she mumbled, a red hue across her face from the heat, and from the fact shes got a dildo inside both herself and you. she moans softly, tweaking at your nipple and her own.

“jinx..” you mewled, feeling your legs spread open moreover to have jinx get deeper— to get closer to you. and once she does— her slender body leans up to yours and her plump, yet slightly chapped lips press against your fuller and darker lips. “feels so much better with you this close.”

she nods eager, her pretty pinkish purple irises that look like does eyes in this moment staring at you. “your.. your not gonna deny me a—“ you try to ask, but she rolls her hips faster at a desperate pace. “jin—xx!” you say in surprise, eyes becoming heavy and lidded by time when you feel her tongue lick up your throat.

“want this forever, yknow?” she asks, sucking on your neck and holding your hands.

𝒮𝐸𝒱𝐼𝒦𝒜

sevika was a bitch when it came to sex.

shes a brute, never faltering her ego when it had you on your knees and having her look down at you. she beckons you over with two fingers, “crawl,” she reminds you to do. you slowly press one knee before the other, becoming in between her thighs and she tilts your head up. “open,” she commands, slightly pulling at your hair.

“spat!” she spits in your mouth, keeping her grip on your hair as she pulled her jeans off. she was also a weird one, not really wearing drawls when it came to jeans specifically. she steps out of them, pressing your mouth to her brown clit. “thats my girl,” she mumbled, smacking her right hand against your cheek.

“ ‘vika..” you moan with her clit in your mouth, tongue dancing around it for her to pull her lip back by her teeth. “feel good, baby?”

“my favorite girl, being so good.” she praises, sitting down and spreading her legs in a man spread. “hop back to it, if you desperately want to come.” she reminds you, you getting back between her thighs and suckling at her folds. “suck harder, you know how to do this.”

you did, but she keeps slapping your face— and landing blows on your ass. “thats better, behave.” she muses, leaning forward slightly and slipping her ungloved fingers inside your aching walls to your smaller body. “vikaaas..” you moaned, her body getting goosebumps from the vibration. “want you so bad, mama.”

she takes a pull from the joint, drawing a long hit. she keeps the smoke in her mouth, the taste becoming slightly bitter— pulling your head up by your hair with her robo arm to sigh smoke into your mouth. “vika! you know i get more sensitive when im high out’ta my mind!”

“quit yer whinin’, you love that nasty shit you get when youre high.”

#arcane league of lesbians #arcane netflix #vi arcane #jinx arcane #jinx #sevika #sevika arcane #vi x black!reader #vi x reader #jinx league of legends #jinx x reader #jinx x black!reader #sevika x reader #sevika x black! reader

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yezhi1k · 12 days ago

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Flowers & Cherries chp.3 (Jinx x Reader)

(Had to re-upload, sorry, it got corrupted on my end, not sure if it showed up for anyone else)

Notes: SMUT ALERT!!! Yes, we finally got here. Sorry for taking so long, work and uni are currently making my life a little hectic. Apologies in advance for any typos, I am sure there are plenty, but I am very very very bad at proofreading. Also, pretty please read the CWs carefully! (also also, as usual, all my stuff is on AO3, under MisanthropicMoose).

Summary: After your whole gang is wiped out, you wake up at Jinx's place unharmed. You are angry at her, and she decided to make it up to you in a very special way.

CW: nsfw, dubious consent, edging, overstimulation, sex toys, descriptions of syringes/injections, very brief mentions of addiction/murder/suicide. Minors DNI!!!

A warm, heavy darkness enveloped you. It was almost humid; waves of it cascaded down your arms and legs, pressurized your head. You wondered whether you’ve died. While you were still alive, you never gave much thought to the afterlife. You liked to keep things simple: you live, then you die, and then nothing. Whether you’re good, whether you’re bad, whether you save starving orphans or set churches on fire. Once you’re dead, you’re dead. It was easier that way, you didn’t feel like you had to keep track of your sins. When your parents were still alive, they took you to a small, dingy church further topside sometimes, whenever your mother’s nervousness set in. You didn’t care much for it then. None of the very few kids there did. Did you care for it now? If you had the opportunity, would you atone for anything? There was plenty to atone for, of course. But would it make a difference?

You brought your attention back to the darkness. It pressed onto you from every direction, like a cocoon. Your thoughts drifted to reincarnation. Many years ago, you found yourself undercover at a brothel. You were looking for someone who frequented it. Who was it? Didn’t matter now.

You didn’t want to look suspicious, so you hired a girl. You couldn’t remember much of her now, except that she was tall and smelled of caramel.

“So,” you remembered her voice. Velvety, almost baritone, “What are you looking for tonight?”

You remembered the tips of your ears tingling slightly at the question. You knew you couldn’t sleep with her, you were on the job and had to stay focused. But even if you could… You remembered being attracted to her, very much so. Her skin looked silky smooth and reflected, in an almost iridescent way, the light of the candles. You remembered your eyes lingering on her long fingers, wrapped around the stem of a wine glass. Her big eyes, glistening at you from underneath fluffy eyelashes. You remembered shifting on the plush sofa, changing the cross of your legs. You remembered wanting her, in a way you knew people wanted one another. And you also remembered a weird, invisible, all-powerful force holding you in place, not letting you act on those desires. It wasn’t a sense of responsibility or duty, you knew that much. Was it guilt? Was it that, out of all the immoral and low shit you have done up to that point, that was something you felt like you had to atone for?

You didn’t have answers for any of those questions then. So, you said you just wanted to talk. She didn’t seem surprised. You were sure that that wasn’t the weirdest request she has ever gotten. Probably not even the weirdest thing she had to do that night. Easy money, if you will.

You let her do most of the talking. Partially because you were still on the lookout for your client, partially because you didn’t know what to talk about. She sunk into the sofa, swirling and delicately sipping her wine. She told you about her life: she was from a middle-class family, one of those that lived closer to the surface, but still technically in the undercity. She attended an upside boarding school for gifted girls, on a scholarship. Her first kiss was with a classmate, in a broom closet, she told you, leaning in closer and lowering her voice slightly, as if she was revealing a terrible secret. Much later, in her final year of school, she tried a boy. Didn’t like it very much, she confessed, scrunching her nose playfully. You let out an understanding scoff. You have never slept with a man, but having to seduce drunk bastards on a semi-regular basis was unpleasant enough.

She was a good student, excelling particularly in botany. She loved plants, flowers, trees, all of the things that were so scarce in the undercity. Secretly, she dreamt of bringing the lush greenery to the fissures, somehow figuring out a way to make it flourish in the toxic air. It would greatly improve air quality, she said. People would be healthier, and happier, surrounded by plants.

But then, a tragedy, too common in the undercity, struck. Her father became addicted to shimmer. It was a rapid descent. To that day, she did not know how he even came into contact with it, or what compelled him to take it. But he did. And he lost all semblance of humanity. It’s like he was replaced, she said somberly. Her father died, and in his place was a monster. She begged her mother to leave him, to run away, to retreat deeper into the undercity, if that’s what it took. But she stuck by him. She loved him. And during one of his shimmer-induced episodes, he killed her. And then, in a moment of clarity, during which he understood what he had done, he jumped off the bridge between the upper and under cities. Her mother was buried at a local cemetery, and his body was never found.

She left school the day she found out. Everything seemed pointless then. Flowers wouldn’t save the undercity, she realized.

But she had to live. And after several unsuccessful attempts at finding a job, she found herself on the steps of the brothel. At the time, she thought it would be a quick, temporary gig. Just to gather some money to get her life on track. But then she never left. Surprisingly, in this place, looked down on by the rest of the world, she finally felt accepted. At peace, even. Upside, she constantly had to pretend to be better off than she was. She had to act as though she went on vacations during school breaks, as opposed to retreating to the undercity, that her birthdays were spent at opulent restaurants and not in dingy bars, where the air was thick with smoke and gaseous remnants of shimmer. But here, surrounded by other people down on their luck, she felt as though she could breathe freely. Topside air, she said, despite all their plants and flowers, hurt her lungs.

The night went on, the guy you were looking for was nowhere to be seen. You gave her a brief rundown of your life, entirely made up, of course. Then your conversation turned theological.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?” she asked.

You furrowed your brow.

“I… am not sure what that means.”

She giggled and put her petal-soft hand on your shoulder, stroking it lightly.

“Well, some people believe that when you die, you are reborn, as someone or something different. Do you believe that?”

You thought about it for a moment. She continued rubbing gentle circles on your shoulder, and waves of warmth rushed through your body.

“I don’t know,” you finally answered, “I like to think that once we die, that’s it. Then there is nothing.”

“That’s a depressing way to think.”

“Works for me,” you shrugged, “I hope that the things I’ve done won’t catch up to me.”

She tilted her head to the side, a lock of hair falling onto her forehead.

“You don’t seem like the type of person to do bad things.”

The corner of your mouth twitched. In a sudden spur of confidence, you reached out and brushed the hair out of her face.

“I do. I promise.”

Were you being reborn now? The cocoon of darkness enveloping you, was it a new womb? Were you about to see the light of the outside world for the first time again?

Your pondering was interrupted by something cold and wet brushing your forehead. A chill ripped through you, starting from your head and moving down to your toes at lightning speed. And then your face was brushed again. And again. And again.

Suddenly, everything went white. Your eyes, now open, rotated in their sockets wildly, trying to find anything at all to focus on. You were blinking furiously, trying to shed the milky film from the surface of your eyeballs. You tried to move, but something was holding your arms and legs down. All you could do was blink and shake your head.

“Hey, hey, shh. It’s okay, I’m here, don’t thrash.” You heard a familiar voice. Jinx. It was Jinx.

Your surroundings came into view slowly. The first thing you saw was the blinding light of a lamp above you. You squinted your eyes instinctively and looked away. With every passing second, other things appeared before you. Walls, painted purple, a desk leaning against one of those walls. You could make out tiny nuts and bolts and other parts scattered across its surface. A wooden door.

You turned your head to the side and came face to face with Jinx. Her eyes were big, almost concerned, but mostly just curious. Being this close, you were able to make out the faintest whisper of freckles on her face. The microscopic cracks on her lips.

She held a moist rag in her hand. When you stopped thrashing around, she smiled down at you and brought the rag to your face. The same sensation as before. That’s what it was.

Your mind raced. You were now able to make out that you were laying on something soft and springy. A bed? A bed! It was a bed! Not your bed though, your one wasn’t quite this big. Then who’s? Jinx’s?

“Jinx?” your voice came out strained and raspy. She raised an eyebrow at you inquisitively.

“Where am I?”

“At my place.”

You scrunched your forehead. An all too familiar, sharp pain was resurfacing.

“Why am I at your place?”

Jinx gently tilted your chin so your eyes would meet hers again.

“Because I blew your gang up, and you got hurt.”

A strained groan ripped out of your throat. Memories of the latest events refilled your mind. You were at the courtyard, and then something in the bushes caught your attention, and then… You started drawing a blank, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Why?” was all you could utter. You weren’t sure how you felt. You were angry, yes. Incredibly angry. Furious, even. But not because Smeech and his goons were gone. It was something else, something less personal. It was the same feeling as the one you got when a neighbor’s toddler toppled over the pile of rocks you spent all morning building as a child. Scorching pain rose from the back of your head to your forehead.

You suddenly felt a warm breath on your cheek. You cracked your eyes open and saw that Jinx’s face was mere inches away from yours. Her eyes looked even bigger now, sadder.

“Please don’t be angry at me,” she whispered. For a moment, both of you were silent. You tried to collect your thoughts.

“Jinx,” you said, as sternly as your dry tongue could manage, “What happened?”

Jinx huffed and left your field of vision for a moment. You tried to sit up, but something was holding your arms and legs in place. You looked up at your hands and saw that they were bound to the bedpost with something resembling a thick ribbon. The same was true for your ankles.

“Jinx?” you called out. Suddenly, a weight came down on you. Before you could process anything, Jinx’s petite figure was sitting on your stomach, thighs on either side of your body. Your breath caught in your chest; she was so close now. Sweet-smelling heat radiated off her body. Her hands were encasing your head, her long blue bangs hanging down on you, tickling your nose.

“Silco gave the order, obviously,” she started. Her chest brushed against yours, and you suddenly felt the hardness of her nipples under her shirt, “I begged him to keep you alive, and he agreed. Tried to get you on our team. But you had to be stubborn,” she whispered the last sentence, dipping her head down to your ear. You instinctively tried to squeeze your thighs together, but the bindings on your ankles kept you in place. You did your best to steady your breathing.

“Why did he decide to kill them? What did they do?”

Jinx lifted her head back up and looked you in the eyes. You could have sworn you noticed a glint of magenta in her blue eyes. But that couldn’t have been true.

“They were stealing shimmer.”

The words took a few seconds to register in your mind. Smeech and his goons were… stealing? From Silco? That was beyond ridiculous, even for someone as dumb as Smeech.

“That’s impossible,” you shook your head, “I didn’t know anything about it. They wouldn’t do something like that.”

“And yet, they did. They didn’t tell you because they would have to give you a bigger cut.”

You blinked up at her. No way. No fucking way.

“They started almost as soon as we hired them. It was small at first, Silco even thought for a bit that his books weren’t adding up because he’s getting old. But then they got bolder. Some even started meddling with the Firelights. Your lot would let them steal freely, and in return they got a portion of the stock,” Jinx’s eyes narrowed, “We didn’t want a big fuss, so we decided to let y’all do your thing, and figure out who exactly was participating so they could be dealt with… privately. But it turned out almost everyone was in on it. The only dummies left out were you, and that one kid you took in several months ago.”

She suddenly grinned widely at you.

“He agreed to switch immediately. Smart kid. But you were just begging to skip right on into the grave.”

Your head was killing now, and you shut your eyes again.

“Does it hurt?” you felt Jinx’s lips against your ear. All you could do was nod. This wasn’t real. None of this could be real.

She lifted off you, and you heard her footsteps get further away. They then got closer again. You cracked your eyelids open.

She was standing over you with a syringe of purple liquid in hand, looking over you curiously. Your body thrashed. It was shimmer again. Jinx cupped your cheek in the palm of her hand, grazing your cheek lightly with the long nail of her thumb.

“Shh… It’s okay. It’s for the pain.”

Before you could answer, you felt a cold needle press against the side of your neck. A small, pathetic yelp escaped your throat as it broke the skin, and you felt the liquid enter your vein. It tingled, sent a shiver down your spine. A sigh slipped past your lips as the pain started melting away. It was as though a fire was put out on the inside of your head. Your eyelids fluttered down slightly.

But then, a new sensation started taking over. It was small at first, a little warmth at the pit of your stomach. You didn’t even notice it at first. But the warmth grew; it spread from the pit of your stomach down between your legs. You felt something resembling a dull ache, not painful per say, but as though every nerve was firing off at your core. Your thighs tried in vain to squeeze together again, your breath exhilarated. You felt a bead of sweat start forming near your brow.

“Jinx… this stuff feels weird,” your voice came out in a breathy whisper, unfamiliar even to you, “Doesn’t feel the same.”

The blue-haired girl leant over you, studying your squirming form. Her palm found the top of your head, and she stroked you gently.

“That’s because it’s not the same,” she cooed, tilting your chin to meet her gaze again, “Silco’s stuff is nice. Expensive. He keeps it locked away most of the time. I could break into his cabinet, of course, but I’ve got my hands on this stuff. Almost the same, but it has… a side effect. So, it’s considered a failed strand. I wouldn’t say so though.”

You tried your best to keep your cool as strange feelings roared through your body.

“What’s the side effect?”

Jinx laughed, then climbed on top of you again, painfully slowly. Her pelvis came down on yours, and you couldn’t feel but let out a small moan. You prayed she didn’t notice.

Jinx was sitting on top you now, arms crossed, looking down at you with her head tilted. Your eyes drifted from her face down to the delicate curve of her neck, down her chest and toned waist, before landing on the blue cloud tattoo on her hip. Her hips had the slightest bit of fat on them, and they looked so supple. Grabbable. Bitable, even. What the fuck are you thinking about?

“I think you know,” saying that, Jinx bucked her hips slightly, generating the smallest bit of friction between your bodies. Your head fell back onto the pillow, and you had to bite your lip to stifle whatever sound was about to come out. The fire from your head migrated to your body now.

You desperately tried to stay in control of the situation.

“Alright, very funny. Untie me now,” you hissed through gritted teeth, trying to seem composed. By all accounts, you were not doing very well.

Jinx lifted an eyebrow at you.

“Are you angry?” she asked. You couldn’t help but let a mean laugh rip out of you.

“Yeah? Obviously? You think you get to blow up my entire gang, erase years of my hard work, and that I won’t be angry at you?”

You saw Jinx’s expression fall ever so slightly, before restoring back to the smug look she had on before. She reached out her hand and stroked the side of your neck. Her nails scraped your skin softly. You tried your hardest not to react as she traced a sensitive spot near the base of your jaw.

“I figured you’d be angry,” she muttered, bringing her mouth to the shell of your ear. You yelped as she nipped the very corner with her teeth, “I will make it up to you, though.”

You turned your head and looked up at her.

“And how are you planning on doing that, exactly?” you tried to sound angry, but to your horror your voice came out soft, whiny, needy. Jinx’s eyes had a dangerous glint to them.

“Well,” she started, grinding down on your crotch slowly, watching your face keenly for any shadow of a reaction, “I see the way you look at me. The way you looked at me from the very beginning,” her mouth found your ear again, “you want to fuck me, don’t deny it. I see the way you stare at my tits when you think I’m not looking.”

You tried to interrupt her to defend yourself, but she pressed her finger to your lips.

“I like you too,” you felt her fingers get tangled in your hair and pull slightly. Your chin was tilted upwards now, neck fully exposed, “I was going to fuck you myself, at first. But I figured, you’re older, you’re so serious all the time. You would probably want to make the first move. So, I waited,” her knee suddenly moved in between your legs, pressing up to you, pushing your thighs apart, “I waited, and I waited, and I waited, but you wouldn’t do a thing. Just kept eye-fucking me, and that’s it. You know how frustrating that is, hm?”

Jinx’s knee bobbed lightly, sending jolts of electricity through your core. You clamped your teeth shut, trying not to embarrass yourself. Jinx sat up and looked down at you again. Her chest was heaving a little, and a faint blush spread through her cheeks.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” she hummed, still teasing you with her knee. You felt a wetness start forming, and you feared she would make a mess of her pant leg, “Anything you want. What do you like, hm? Do you like to be rough? You like to pull hair? Want to call me names? Or are you more of a receiver?”

Your brain felt like it was melting. You didn’t know what to say, your lack of experience more evident than ever. Jinx’s face suddenly came down to your neck, and you felt her hot, wet tongue slide from the base of your neck up to the corner of your jaw. You couldn’t hold back anymore; a high pitched, lewd sound filled the air. You felt Jinx snicker against your neck.

“So eager,” she said, looking deeply into your eyes, “So, tell me. What do you want?”

There was no lying your way out of this one. You squeezed your eyes shut out of pure humiliation.

“I… I don’t know.”

Jinx’s nails, still tangled in your hair, scratched at your skull gently. Her voice softened, as though she was talking to a startled animal.

“What do you mean, you don’t know? Don’t be embarrassed, I’m sure whatever you are into isn’t that weird.”

You felt tears of frustration and shame form in the corners of your eyes. The shimmer coursing through your veins seemed to heighten more than just your physical sensitivity.

“I don’t know what I’m into! I’ve never done… this before, I don’t know.”

A silence filled the room. You cracked one of your eyes open and peeked and Jinx. You expected her to laugh at you. Maybe look at you in disgust, or with pity.

But, as your eyes met hers, you saw something entirely different, and your stomach churned. Her jaw tightened, and there was no mistaking it now: the hue of her eyes shifted from ocean-blue to magenta. The grip on your hair tightened, and you let out a pained cry. She looked over you with a newfound curiosity. There was something borderline predatory in her eyes.

“No way,” she said finally, loosening her grip. Her thumb came down onto your cheek and she stroked it, head tilted, studying you.

You stayed silent. You weren’t sure what was going to happen. Jinx planted her hands either side of your head.

“You haven’t been deflowered? Haven’t had your cherry popped?” her voice had a mocking tinge to it. You couldn’t keep looking her in the eyes, and you turned your head to look at the wall. Jinx grabbed your cheeks and turned your face back to her roughly.

“Tell me,” her thumb was grazing your bottom lip now, “Did I get that right?”

All you could do was nod. A devious grin spread across Jinx’s face, and she suddenly pushed her thumb into your mouth. You were too caught off guard to fight her, and her thumb planted onto your tongue. She forced your mouth open and watched you for a moment, smearing saliva all around your mouth and on your bottom lip. You knew you looked pathetic, tied up, Jinx’s thumb in your mouth, and all you could do was keep staring up at her.

“How did you even manage that, huh? You’re so cute, I was sure someone has gotten to you by now,” Jinx whispered. You decided you were going to make a last-ditch attempt to escape. The embarrassment was too much.

“Jinx, untie me, please,” your words were muffled with your mouth obstructed.

A cackle, an almost maniacal laugh, came out from somewhere deep within Jinx, and she shoved her thumb deeper down your throat, almost making you gag.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding. No way I’m doing that now,” thumb still in your mouth, she planted soft kisses up your neck and nipped your earlobe, “I’ve never gotten to break in a virgin before, no way I’m letting you go.”

Her lips found the sensitive spot on you neck and planted onto it tightly. You felt her kiss and lick at the spot, coaxing whines and mewls out you didn’t know you were capable producing.

“After all,” she muttered in between kisses, “you wouldn’t want the entire Zaun to find out that Smeech’s right hand, the living nightmare of dozens of gangsters, is a little pathetic virgin,” she suddenly bit down on the soft flesh.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. There was nothing you could do, really. Your limbs were still immobilized, and Jinx was seated firmly on top of you, pressing your pelvis and torso into the bed. And on top of it all, you felt so incredibly warm. Scorching. Your blood became infused with burning humiliation and desire. With one hand still in your hair, Jinx took her fingers out of your mouth and glided them down your neck and chest, leaving a trail of purple shimmering saliva. She grabbed a handful of your breast and squeezed lightly. You didn’t typically wear a bra, being happy with just an undershirt, and you felt her sharp nail graze against your nipple through the fabric. A spark of pleasure ran up your nerves as you tried to stifle another moan. You weren’t sure why you felt so embarrassed; deep down, this is what you wanted since the moment you met Jinx. So, now that she was feeling you up and you were entirely at her mercy, why did you feel such deep seeded shame?

Jinx was playing with your nipple through your shirt now, pinching and tugging lightly, occasionally running the sharp nail of her index finger over the hardening bud. The pressure between your legs built up mercilessly, and you desperately wanted to feel more, for her to do more. You bucked your hips instinctively, trying to generate more friction between your groin and Jinx’s knee. She snickered and tugged harder at your hair, forcing you to look her in the eyes again.

“Are you that desperate already? I’ve barely touched you, and you are already humping my knee,” she lowered her hand from your breast, fiddling with the hem of your shirt now, “I mean, I knew virgins are easy, but you are being outright slutty.”

Without a warning, she latched onto the hem of your shirt and pulled in up over your breasts. Your nipples fully hardened in the cold air. You saw Jinx’s eyes travel down, and she looked over your body with curiosity. You felt as though your face couldn’t get any warmer, and yet with every passing second more blood seemed to rush to your cheeks.

“How pretty,” she muttered, running the pad of her thumb over your nipple. You couldn’t hold in your moan, and it came out in a hoarse squeal. Jinx continued to play with your chest, occasionally moving from one breast to the other. Your thighs squeezed tighter around her as she rolled one of your nipples between her fingers.

She looked you in the eyes as her mouth lowered towards your chest. She planted a soft kiss onto your collar bone, then started slowly moving down. Her lips suddenly latched onto the flesh of one of your breasts, forming a seal. She sucked harshly, coaxing soft yelps out of you as she sucked in more air. When Jinx pulled away, a scarlet mouth-shaped mark was left on your breast, and she admired her work for a second before taking your hard nipple in her mouth. It felt warm and wet as she swirled her tongue around the bud, coating it in a thick layer of saliva. You couldn’t help but throw back your head, not holding back your voice now. It reverberated through the room, bouncing off the walls, and you wondered whether anyone could overhear you. As if reading your thoughts, Jinx nipped your nipple with her teeth, eliciting a louder scream. She then moved over to your other breast, toying with your abandoned nipple with the bad of your thumb as she sucked on the other one. You writhed against her, and she shifted more of her weight onto your torso to keep you in place.

With her lips still wrapped around one of your buds, Jinx glided her hand down to your crotch, palming you through your trousers. The newfound pressure was intoxicating, and you bucked into her hand, almost sobbing from how much you wanted her to touch you. Her fingers circled over your entrance, and you could see now that your wetness soaked all the way through the fabric.

“So fucking wet for me,” Jinx cooed, picking up the pace a little. Her mouth found the lobe of you ear and she took it between her teeth, nibbling softly as her palm continued its attack on your crotch. Tears welled in your eyes.

“Jinx, please…” your voice came out small, higher pitched than normal. She tilted her head, observing your expressions with a mischievous glint in her magenta eyes.

“Please what?” she teased, dragging her nail across where your clit would be under the layers of fabric. You whined and tried to buck into her hand again, but her fingers sunk into the flesh of your hip and she pushed you down forcefully. Her other hand found your hair again and yanked your head back, leaving you panting.

“Please, what?” her voice was stern now. Your lip quivered as you found her eyes with yours.

“Please… touch me more,” you managed in a strained whisper. Jinx’s eyes softened, her grip on your hip getting lighter as she rubbed gentle circles on your hip bone now.

“Well,” she muttered, hooking her index finger under your belt, her eyes never leaving yours, “Since you asked so nicely…”

You felt her work at your belt, sliding it out of its loops and letting it fall off the bed onto the floor with a loud clank. Jinx then pulled at the zipper of your trousers and pushed them down over your hips, leaving them pooled around your knees. You were splayed out under her now, ankles and wrists bound to the bedposts, purple drool dribbling down the side of your mouth, tits exposed and covered in hickeys and saliva, with only a pair of cotton underwear shielding your soaked core from the air of the bedroom. Jinx seemed to enjoy the view, letting go of you and sitting up for a moment, eyes tracing every curve of your defenseless figure.

“What a little slut you are,” she said, softly grazing your clit through your panties, making you shudder in pleasure, “Imagine if your folk ever saw you like this, hm? I bet they wanted to fuck you the whole time you were with them,” she slapped your entrance softly, “And yet, I’m the one that gets to have a taste of you first. Isn’t that funny?”

The pads of her fingers were circling against your barely clothed, dripping pussy now. She started out agonizingly slow, but with every passing second, Jinx picked up her speed, letting louder and lewder sounds spill out of you. You were writhing against her hand wildly, chasing your high; you felt a knot start forming in the pit of your stomach, as if something inside you was going to burst. You’ve never felt this way before, but instinctually you knew that that burst would feel delicious. As you got closer, Jinx grabbed your cheeks with your free hand and forced you to look at her. She was taking in your expression, drinking up your desperation and want. Her thumb made it into your mouth again, smearing your spit all over your bottom lip.

“You wanna cum already?” she asked, the speed of her hand relentless against your crotch. You couldn’t produce any coherent words, resorting to simply nodding whilst letting out an unintelligible groan. Jinx’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and she leaned in closer to your face. You felt the sweet hotness of her breath against your mouth, and you tried to lean forward to kiss her, but she yanked your hair, forcing your head to fall back onto the pillow. As you inched closer to your release you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation. You were so close, so painfully close, just a couple more seconds and you would–

Jinx’s fingers left your aching pussy in the last second. You let out a frustrated whine, bucking helplessly into the air, trying to generate any kind of friction, anything to bring you over the edge. You squirmed in frustration, the ribbon against your wrists and ankles digging deeper into your skin.

Your pleading eyes found Jinx’s. She was still holding you by the hair, studying your face, her other hand resting on your lower stomach now. She had a pleased smirk on her face, by all accounts she seemed to enjoy torturing you. Her facial expression quickly shifted into a mockingly sympathetic one.

“Ow, poor baby… What’s wrong?” her fingers traced your abdomen lazily as an aching want raged on between your legs, “Did you really think I was going to let you cum that easily?”

Your head fell back into the pillow in defeat, Below, you felt Jinx hook one of her long nails under the band of your sopped underwear and pull them down slowly, peeling the fabric away from your core and slipping them down to your knees in the same manner as your trousers. You were fully exposed now, and you could feel streams of your wetness cascade down your thighs onto the mattress. Jinx shifted down, planting kisses down your stomach until her mouth was hovering just over your entrance. Her eyes never left yours as she lowered her tongue slowly onto your clit. It was hot and wet, and you couldn’t help but moan as your hips jerked up. Jinx gripped both of your thighs and pulled them apart further, spreading you out in front of her. Slowly, she started lapping away at your clit, sending jolts of pure pleasure up your thighs. As heat started rising from within you again, she picked up the pace, her tongue gliding across your pussy and in between your folds, giving special attention to your throbbing clit. You could see her lips and chin become coated in your juices. Your wetness was also had a purple sheen to it, a common after-effect of taking shimmer. The room was filled with the sounds of your ragged moans.

Jinx’s tongue was dancing wildly over your clit now, and you felt your release rapidly approach again. It felt more intense this time, building upon your unresolved orgasm from before. With every lap Jinx took at your pussy your moans got louder, and you bucked into her mouth. Your mind was liquefying by the second.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami. A wave of warmth spread from your groin throughout your body, a pleasant ache spread through your core, rolling through it again and again as screams of pleasure ripped through you. Jinx held down your hips and licked you through your release, every lick sending additional sparks through your body. You chanted her name like a prayer, wishing you could burry your hands in her electric blue hair.

When the fire in your core died down, Jinx pulled away from your pussy. Purple liquid was smeared over her mouth and chin, and she wiped some away with the back of her hand before lunging forward and crushing her mouth against yours. You tasted yourself on her tongue, the shimmer making your juices taste ever so slightly fruity. Her tongue pushed past your lips with ease, and all you could is moan into her mouth as she explored your mouth. Your tongue glided against hers, spit mixing with your wetness in a cacophony of flavors. You were breathless as she pulled away, a string of saliva hanging between your lips. She wiped her mouth and grinned at you.

“How was that?” her voice was cocky. She seemed incredibly proud of herself. You gazed at her through half-lidded eyes.

“So fucking good, Jinx,” you muttered, throwing your head back onto the pillow, trying to catch your breath. A pleasant warmth spread through you. You heard Jinx hop off the bed and move away into the far corner of the room. You closed your eyes, feeling the remnants of your orgasm swarm through your body.

You heard Jinx rummage around her cupboards. Opening your eyes, you saw her approach the bed with a small box. You lifted your head in curiosity, trying to figure out what was in there. She set the box down on the bed, a mischievous grin spreading on her face. You suddenly got scared.

“What’s that?” you asked carefully. You tried to figure it out, but your mind was still swarming from the pleasure, a sweet fog enveloping you.

Jinx glanced over at you and giggled.

“You’ll see.”

You tried to lean forward more as she lifted the lid off the box. In there were laid devices you were unfamiliar with. A couple of them were of a cylindrical shape, some with prominent ridges, others completely smooth. You looked at Jinx in confusion.

She snickered a picked a small, bullet-shaped device out of the box. It was completely smooth, except for a small button at the base. You watched in astonishment as Jinx pressed the button, and the device started buzzing in her hand. She climbed on top of you again, mysterious object in hand.

Without saying a word, she forced your mouth open and shoved the device inside; it vibrated against your teeth. Jinx swirled the object around in your mouth, coating it in your spit. When it was sufficiently lubricated, she pulled it out. Before you could ask what she was doing, she lowered the tip of the device onto your nipple. An intense pleasure shot through you, and you arched your back as the pleasant sensation rolled through your body. The moist, vibrating bullet felt amazing against your skin.

“You like that?” you heard Jinx ask. She was watching your reactions carefully.

“These are all prototypes,” she continues, swirling the toy around each nipple, “You’d be surprised how many people in the Undercity are after a good sex toy.”

The next thing you knew, the device was pressed up to your clit. Your whole body jolted, the sensation was too strong, the pleasure too overpowering. You tried to get away from the vibrator, but Jinx held you firmly in place as she continued her assault on your senses. The pleasure morphed into something resembling a dull pain. You sobbed.

“Jinx, please, wait, it’s too much,” you begged. All you heard was Jinx’s dark chuckle as she pressed the vibrator more firmly against you.

“You can take it,” was all she said. She slid the device up and down your entrance, circling your clit, and your vision went dark with pleasure. Your mouth hung open, your hips bucked and twitched in a directionless manner. Another wave of release washed over you quickly, so intense that it spread through your core in a sharp pain. A wail escaped you as you tried desperately to pull away from the vibrator that was still pressed against you. Jinx was giggling villainously now, evidently enjoying your struggle.

“Good girl, such a good girl… Shh, its okay,” she muttered over you as you cried, desperately thrashing, trying to move away from the toy. After a few more seconds, she finally took it off you. Sparks of pain and pleasure continued shooting through your core and abdomen as you tried to catch your breath. Your clit was red and swollen now, and the mattress underneath you was slick from your juices.

You watched Jinx as she tossed the vibrator onto the mattress and reached back into the box again. The cogs in your brain started turning as you realized what she was up to.

“Please, Jinx, I can’t take any more,” you whined, tears rolling down your face, core burning from overstimulation. Jinx didn’t answer. Instead, she reached backwards and pulled at the knots around your ankles, releasing them. She delicately massaged the red lines left on your flesh, before grabbing you by the hip and turning you over onto your stomach. You were still bound to the bedpost by your wrists, and the bindings around them tightened. You felt Jinx snake a hand underneath your stomach and pull your hips up, pushing your face down into the pillow by the hair. Your ass was now raised in the air, the cool air hitting your pussy, still soaked and throbbing. You couldn’t see what Jinx was doing, but you heard her rummage around in her box, presumably looking for a new toy. As she took her pick, her finger grazed the slit of your entrance. You heard her pick something out of the pile and spit on it. Your insides clenched in horrified anticipation; you were overstimulated beyond belief.

A choked cry escaped your throat as you felt something press up to you, teasing your entrance. It felt bulbous and wet from Jinx’s spit. You turned your head to the side and tried to find Jinx. You saw her, sitting next to you, holding up your hips in the air with one hand and pressing a phallic, ribbed object up to your dripping pussy. It was ribbed, with a large head. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to brace yourself.

“You think you can take it for me, hm?” you heard Jinx whisper in your ear, knowing damn well that it didn’t matter what you answered.

You felt the head of the dildo move between the lips, pushing into you. You whimpered and felt Jinx plant a gentle kiss onto your temple.

“Shh, you are doing so well for me. Don’t be scared.”

The toy slowly stretched you as Jinx pushed it further. With every new inch that entered you, you let out a pained moan, the ribbing on the base stretching you even further. The pillow was wet from tears now. Finally, you felt the base of the toy hit your ass as all of it was now planted inside of you, filling every inch. Jinx stopped moving it, letting you adjust to the size of the toy, your walls desperately trying to accommodate it. She planted soft kisses on your shoulder as you got used to the feeling.

After a few minutes, you felt Jinx start to slowly pull the dildo out of you. As each ridge moved through your walls, a half-pleasurable, half-painful sensation shot through you. You bit your lip as you felt the toy slide back in. Jinx was gently thrusting it in and out of you now, taking care not to go too quickly. The pain morphed into pleasure, and as small moans started spilling out of you, she picked up the pace. Her toy was hitting deep inside you now, the ridges massaging you from the inside. The speed only got faster, and you felt a string of drool fall from your mouth onto the pillow, your eyes rolled back. Your stomach felt tight, it was way too much, every thrust coaxed an animalistic scream out of you. Suddenly you heard a familiar click, and the dildo started vibrating. The combination of vibration and thrusts made you bite down on the pillow as hard as you could, your thighs spasmed and struggled to keep your hips up in the air.

“Does it feel that good, hm? You can’t even keep yourself up?” Jinx’s breath brushed your ear as she pounded away mercilessly at you. Your eyes rolled back into your skull. Another release was on its way, and you could already tell it would be more intense than you could ever imagine. Jinx’s finger snaked underneath you and circled your clit vigorously. Your screams couldn’t get any louder.

“Come on, cum for me. Cum for me, you fucking slut,” she hissed in your ear, “You like to be fucked so much, huh? You like when I fuck you? If anyone else tries to touch you, you will only think of me; my tongue, my fingers, my toys, me,” she took her hand away from your clit for a second to pull your hair, lifting your head slightly. Her mouth pressed against the shell of your ear.

“Tell me. Tell me you are mine. Tell me you are my little whore.”

You yelped as the grip on your hair got tighter.

“I’m yours, Jinx, I’m only yours. I’m your whore,” you whined, trying to choke down your sobs.

Satisfied, Jinx let go of your hair and started circling your clit again. You screamed, and a wave of pain and pleasure washed over you as she sent you over the edge. Your walls clenched around the toy, and you pressed your thighs together tightly as your hips shook uncontrollably. Your legs gave out, and you collapsed onto the bed, still twitching as Jinx pulled out of you.

As you laid on your stomach, breathless, small sequels still passing your lips, Jinx turned you onto your back again and climbed on top of you. She brought the head of your toy to your mouth and you, delirious, wrapped your lips around it, taking it deeply into your throat, cleaning off your juices. Jinx’s eyes were barely visible from underneath her eyelashes, but you could see a dangerous magenta glow emanate from them as she watched you lick the mess off the dildo. She pulled it out of your mouth with a loud pop and tossed it to the side. She quickly untied your wrists, planting kisses onto the raw skin, and plopped onto the mattress next to you. She pulled the covers over the both of you, and her arms snaked around your waist as she pressed her small body up to you from behind. She felt delicate and warm, it was hard to believe that mere moments ago she was ferociously fucking you, humiliating you, calling you names. Your eyes started fluttering shut as you felt her press small, quick kisses onto the nape of your neck. You tried to turn around to face her, but she held you in place.

“But, what about you?” you asked. You knew damn well you were in no position to return the favor in that moment, but that didn’t stop the guilt from bubbling up. You felt her chest rumble against your back as she giggled and brushed a lock of hair out of your face.

“Don’t worry about it for now. We will have plenty of time for that later.”

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@kiaralee25

@fvckingeetar

#arcane #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #smut #wlw smut

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tetsunabouquet · 7 days ago

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Why Isha is the Most Misunderstood Character from Arcane S2: My Headcanons

A/N: After doing Sevika, I really just wanted to write this in defense of my little sweetheart, because the hate train against her is just dumb and occasionally downright ableist in how some people talk about her being mute. As a HF autistic woman, that shit just disgusts me so here I go!

-First of all, let's adress the hate towards Isha for 'magically fixing' Jinx. It's far less magical then you think. Ever heard of inner child work? Jinx might not have been working the classic techniques, as Isha acted as a proxy for Powder instead. That scene of Jinx just drifting off mentally as she does Isha's hair, talking about how she didn't do that with Vi? It very much gives off the vibe that Jinx would have liked to do the occasional girly things wih Vi as a child and that her inner Powder finally feels heard in that moment. They had been together for months at that point, so I doubt that was the sole moment Isha allowed Jinx to work through her problems by Isha being a proxy for her past self. -Secondly, let me adress the common criticism that she has no goal or whatsoever and is just there to idolize Jinx. You should all take some media literacy classes. She's very clearly set up as a mirror to a young Powder AND Vi, so why can't you see the obvious parallels?! Jinx has become like Vander, a symbol for the undercity and their fight against oppression but she doesn't wants to fight anymore. Isha isn't pushing Jinx into a hero role because she's a fangirl. But because she HAS a goal. Like Powder and Vi, she genuinely wants Zaun to be liberated and is trying to encourage Jinx to get back in the game just like Vi tried to do with Vander! Whilst the circumstances leading up to that were different, Isha even gets imprisoned for trying to make a stand for the undercity just like Vi did. I don't want to be hateful like you guys but seriously, do you Isha haters really need dialogue THAT badly to point out the obvious? -Isha's lack of voice also refers to her lack of family. Whilst she could be mute because of disability, there is also the possibility of her never having learnt how to properly speak as an orphan, as well as the possibility she became mute through trauma. As a mirror, it's highly likely Isha's parents were also brutally murdered. With 2 of the 3 explanations pointing into the direction of her being mute due to being an orphan, it's statistically likelier for this to be the actual reason. -Which adds an additional layer of tragedy to her character. Because going mute through trauma as well as being mute due to being a 'feral' child, can be dealt with! People tend to get over traumatic mutism and whilst feral children missed some important milestones, Isha could still be taught to speak basic sentences with the right help. This seems to be highlighted with how Isha learns to stand up for herself and be more assertive. She's crawling out of her shell and just when you could catch a glimmer of who she could become, she dies. With Sevika now being in charge as part of the Council, the aid Isha would need to regain her speech are now available to the children of Zaun. It's heartbreaking to think about the future Isha could have had if she had just survived the attack on Viktor's camp. -With how desperate Isha was to have a family- just look at how quickly she attached to Jinx and jumped at the chance to also be with Vander and Vi, it's clear the girl was dreaming of a home. Which brings me to her intentions to her sacrificing herself. If she was that desperate and traumatized, then it very likely could be that Isha rather wants to die then lose her family all over again. The fact her song ends with according to translations, 'for this is good enough for me', seems to imply that these months of having a family was what she dreamt of for so long and she can go in peace thanks to Jinx showing her love in the cruel world of the undercity.

#arcane #isha #isha arcane #arcane s2 #arcane season 2 #arcane isha #isha and jinx #jinx and isha #vi #arcane vi #vander #arcane vander

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monzabee · 1 year ago

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déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) – ln4

masterlist

Summary: The one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.

Pairing: lando norris x bestfriend!reader (nicknamed Tink)

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut elements but no actual smut, cursing, pining and of course fluff!

Request: “Haiiii. I love your style of writing Lando and feel like you would 100% do a request justice to scratch the itch in my brain Reader and him have been childhood friends, mutual pining with some sexual tension but never crossed lines other than a new years kiss with friends etc. So reader ends up training and qualifying as a physio/masseuse and travelling with Lando bc fun besties on tour together yay! Thinking she ends up getting to know his body really well from that and has to massage some intimate area- tension builds blah. They have a cosy night in together after front row quali to prep for the race, face masks cuddles bc really physically comfortable together and then some confessions happen. After this going out to celebrate home race (not jinxing tomorrow!!) and reader ends up dancing with another driver, Lando gets jealous fully opens up and they go home together (as much detail on that as you feel comfortable with) No probs if it’s something you don’t feel inspired to write! Pls continue writing whatever you love because I love to read your stuff!!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! am i back after a literal month of no fics?? i hope so!! thank you so much for being patient with me you guysi i appreciate it, and i just want to say that this was the first time i wrote for lando (and you can definitely thank @userlando and her lando brainrot posts for that) and i’m kind of obsessed!! so as always, thank you to the anon for the request, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Being friends with Lando has resulted in both of you getting in trouble way too many times, you realise. The most recent case? The both of you ended up in a supply closet nearby the Aston Martin hospitality, hiding from a very, very, angry Spaniard. The close proximity and the limited space wouldn’t have been a big issue, for if Lando wasn’t looking at you with that look in his eyes. Under normal other circumstances, your reaction would’ve been much more different to the one you give him now – which is a glare that shows him you are not happy with the situation the both of you are in.

You’re about to scold him, but the words on your tongue quickly die as he presses his index finger to your lips. “I know you’re about to yell at me,” he whispers as he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, “but I really don’t want to be found right now.”

“Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before, you bloody idiot.” You hiss while slapping his hand away, which wins you a mock pout in return. “Why would you play that song every time he walked into a room?”

“It’s his name,” Lando tries to reason, “I thought he’d be used to it by now!”

Here’s the sitch. Lando, being the absolute prankster he is, decided to play ‘Fernando’ every time his former teammate entered into a room that morning – which resulted in the Spaniard becoming more and more annoyed with him until he snapped and Lando had to find himself a hiding place. How did you get roped into this, you may ask? You have absolutely no idea, other than your best friend dragging you into a nearby storage closet as you were walking back to the McLaren hospitality after meeting up with some of your friends for a cup of coffee. And now? The two of you are stuck inside a closet which is obviously too small for you both, and Lando has to bend his neck in an uncomfortable position.

“Lando,” you whisper in an attempt to keep your voice down, “don’t bend your head like that, you’ll strain something.”

“Well it’s not exactly comfortable, Tink.” He grimaces as one of the shelves hit his neck, which causes him to let out a low groan.

Ignoring the nickname he’s used for years, you motion him to move lower. “Just– let me see, okay?”

He begrudgingly nods as he bends his body towards you to accommodate you. You let your fingers run across his skin to find any knots along his shoulders. He lets out another low groan, but this one is more appreciative as you work some of the knots your fingers end up finding.

You watch as Lando’s expression changes from painful discomfort to relief as your fingers work their magic on his tense muscles. For a brief moment, it's just the two of you in the confined space, and you almost get lost in the comfortable silence. “Feels good,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I swear you have magic hands or something.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, “I just know your body, Lando.” After realising the words that come out of your mouth, your face flushes with embarrassment at the unintended implication of your words and you scramble to add, “Not like that, I didn’t mean–”

He smirks playfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, really? My body, huh? You think about my body often?” he teases, his hands squeezing your waist – and being lost in the moment, you don’t even know how they ended up there.

Your cheeks grow even hotter, and you feel your heart rate quicken. “No, that's not what I meant,” you stammer, trying to regain your composure, “and you know it’s basically my job to think about, you know?”

The mischievous glint in his eyes shine brightly as he decides to play dumb, “To think about what, baby?”

Your heart skips a beat at his teasing, and you can't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, Lando,” you retort, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I meant knowing your body like an expert, considering the fact that you pull a muscle every time you decide to do a physical activity.”

He chuckles, and his hands, still resting on your waist, give you a playful squeeze. "Sure, sure, Tink," he replies, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "But let's be honest, it's not just my body you know well. You practically read my mind too."

You roll your eyes, trying to playfully push him away. "Oh, please. You're not that hard to figure out."

Lando leans in a little closer, his grin still evident. "Is that so? Then tell me, oh expert of Lando Norris, what am I thinking right now?"

You raise an eyebrow, not falling for his trick. "You're probably thinking that you got away with the Fernando prank and now you owe me big time, your brain is empty most of the time."

He smirks, impressed by your response. "You're good, Tink. But you're right, I do owe you one. What can I do to make it up to you?"

You pause, the closeness between the two of you making it difficult to think clearly. "Well, for starters, maybe you can stop dragging me into your pranks and getting us into trouble," you suggest with a hint of a smile. “And I don’t know, maybe take pole for me, you know?”

As the playful banter continues, you both seem to forget about the predicament you're in. The confined space of the closet no longer feels suffocating; instead, it becomes a haven for shared laughter and camaraderie.

Just as the two of you are lost in the moment, the closet door suddenly opens, and you both freeze. The angry Spaniard stands before you once again, but this time, his expression has softened, seeing you and Lando in a surprisingly intimate moment.

"Am I interrupting something?" Fernando asks, his tone amused.

Your face turns beet red, and Lando lets out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, hey there. Just having a chat, you know."

But Fernando raises an eyebrow, still looking amused. "In a supply closet?"

You and Lando exchange a sheepish glance, realizing how the situation must appear to Fernando. "Well, we kind of got caught up in the moment," you admit, hoping he doesn't read too much into it.

Fernando chuckles, and there's a warm glint in his eyes. "I see. Well, it's none of my business, but you might want to find a less cramped place to chat next time."

You nod in agreement, grateful that Fernando seems to be taking the situation lightly. "You're right. We'll keep that in mind," you say, trying to sound casual.

Lando adds with a grin, "Yeah, and we promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on." But he’s quick to correct himself when you give him a glare, “I promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on."

Fernando chuckles again, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal. "I'd appreciate that. Anyway, carry on. I won't keep you two any longer."

As he walks away, you let out a sigh of relief. "That could have been a lot worse," you say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

"Yeah, we got lucky," Lando agrees, giving you a playful nudge. "But you know what they say, Tink, nothing like a bit of closet bonding to strengthen a friendship."

You roll your eyes at his playful banter, but there's a fondness in your heart as you look at him. "You're incorrigible, Lando Norris."

He grins, "You love it, though."

You can't help but smile, knowing he's right. “Come on,” you say, “you have a quali to attend.”

The tension from the qualifying session had left you on edge, your heart pounding with every lap, and your nerves had gotten the better of you, leading to some slightly bloody nails from biting them in anticipation. But all that anxiety melts away when you see Lando step out of the car, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he catches sight of you, he opens his arms, and you don't hesitate for a moment. You rush into his embrace, holding him tightly, relieved that he's safe and thrilled that he performed so well.

"You were amazing out there!" you exclaim, unable to hide the pride in your voice. "P2, front row! That's incredible!"

Lando chuckles, his arms still wrapped around you. "I don’t know how we did it!"

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with admiration for your best friend. "I never doubted you for a second," you say earnestly.

His grin widens, and he playfully ruffles your hair. "I know you didn't. Seems like you’re my lucky charm, hm?"

“You know what that means?” You ask him return, a playful smirk on your lips.

His answer comes quickly, and his look seems to reflect your own, “Pizza and a movie?”

Your reply is just as enthusiastic as you throw your arms around him and give him a big smile, “Pizza and a movie, baby!”

Eventually, you manage to escape the whole hustle and bustle of the circuit, and you and Lando find yourselves back at the hotel, with you on the couch trying to find something to watch and him deciding to take a quick shower after the stressful day of qualifying. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. You smile to yourself, glad that Lando is taking some time to relax after such a demanding day. As you wait for him to finish, you finally settle on a movie to watch with a small grin on your face, clearly pleased with your choice. Just as you're about to start the movie, you hear the bathroom door open, and Lando emerges, looking refreshed and relaxed.

After he gets the pizza box out of the oven, he walks over to the couch, wearing sweatpants instead of his jeans, and flops down next to you. "That shower was exactly what I needed," he says with a contented sigh.

You chuckle, glancing at him, while also trying to actively ignore the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants. "Feeling better now?"

"Definitely," he replies, flashing you a grin. "So, what are we watching?"

“Mamma Mia,” you scoff, “of course.”

“A classic, nice.” He nods in understanding, extending the pizza box to you for you to take a slice. “It’s still warm.”

You wordlessly grab a slice and pass the box back to Lando as you settle in your seat, ready to focus on your choice of movie. The comfortable silence between you feels familiar, like the unspoken language of best friends who have shared countless memories and moments together. Throughout the movie, you can't help but notice Lando's occasional stolen glances at you, and you find yourself stealing glances right back. He even winks at you with that boyish grin every time he catches you staring at him, making you giggle as you quickly turn your attention back onto the screen. You somehow find yourself sprawled out on the couch once the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and it’s harder for you to keep your eyes open. With your head on Lando’s lap, he plays with the ends of your hair as the two of you try to keep your attention on the screen.

‘Try,’ being the operative word here, since Lando realises that you end up falling asleep in the middle of the movie where Sophie realises all of the men she invited to the wedding thinks they are her father, and though he finds some kind of comfort in the chaos knowing that it will get resolved eventually, he can’t help but take his role as a makeshift human pillow very seriously. As the movie continues playing, Lando tries his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He leans back against the couch, adjusting his position so you can rest more comfortably on his lap while also trying so hard to not wake you up. He can't help but smile to himself as he plays with your hair, finding himself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.

With a sudden realisation that maybe it is not the best thing to stare at you while you sleep, he tries to occupy himself with something on his phone while also trying to keep still so that you don’t wake up. However, the text thread between him and Max quickly makes him realise that the thoughts that he tries so hard to keep away. He never gave himself the opportunity to think about the two of you that way, he supposes. Not that it would be weird or anything, but in his mind, he’d seen, and been in, far too many relationships form and de-form to know that not all is permanent when it comes to relationships and it’s also not something he’d want to risk when it comes to you. Although the unwarranted thoughts of the two of you together, as a couple, have been haunting him for the past couple of months, he did a great job of sending them away and finding something else to focus on – up until now, that is. And now that he’s pictured the two of you together, holding hands in the streets of Monaco, going on dates, doing more than what ‘best friends’ are meant to do, it doesn’t seem that daunting to give it a try.

He carefully shifts you onto his lap with gentle movements, surprised that you don’t wake up and also trying to figure out the best way to wake you up without startling you. As he gently brushes your cheek, your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a sleepy smile. "Did I miss the end of the movie?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.

Lando chuckles, shaking his head, but not stilling the movement of his hand. “No, we just finished. You fell asleep somewhere in the middle.”

You sit up slightly, rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. “I'm sorry,” you say, sounding apologetic.

“No need to apologise,” he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You looked adorable sleeping, Tink.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, and you give him a playful nudge. “Stop teasing me.”

Lando grins, but there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you. “I'm not teasing, Tink. I mean it. You always look adorable, no matter what you're doing.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his sincere compliment, and you can't help but smile back. “Thank you,” you say softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you, “I, uh, I should probably go to my room and let you sleep.”

“What? No, you don’t have to go.” Lando’s eyebrows furrow on their own, “I mean, you could stay over, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

You give him an unsure look, “I don’t know, Lando, you have a race tomorrow.”

“And we’ll sleep,” he shrugs, “the name ‘sleepover’ implies that, baby.”

You end up giving in and nodding, albeit a little hesitant. "Alright, I'll stay over."

Lando's face lights up with a bright smile, clearly pleased with your decision. "Great! It'll be fun, just like old times."

You chuckle softly. "Yeah, just like old times."

And you’d expect it to feel like the old times, because the two of you said it would be like the old times – the times where you’d spend the night over at his house because his mother picked you up and you didn’t want the playtime to be over. But instead of the excitement of a prolonged play date with your best friend, you find yourself anxious in the hotel bathroom over the fact that it’s him out there, and there is no way that he is not aware of the way you feel about him. You take a moment to compose yourself, splashing some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. This situation is new territory for both of you, and you don't want anything to ruin the friendship the two of you have. When you eventually make your way out of the bathroom, you desperately want to go back in, feeling undoubtedly exposed under Lando’s burning gaze.

“What?” You ask, your voice coming off weaker than you hoped, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

It takes a minute for him to answer you, mainly because of the fact that poor Lando is having a brain malfunction at the sight of you in his shirt – which he gave it to you because it was the only logical option for sleepwear, you know? Suddenly regretting his possessive streak, he attempts to clear his throat, “Nothing, you look good in my clothes.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try not to let yourself become reduced to a blubbering mess, “Oh, well thank you. It’s yours,” after a brief moment of realisation you quickly add, “but you already knew that.”

“Tink,” he calls out, snapping you out of whatever embarrassed state you’re in, and your eyes quickly snap to his. “Come here,” he pleads as he extends one of his towards you, he’s quick to draw you into his arms – and just like that, you find yourself straddling your best friend.

“This is crazy,” you whisper as Lando grabs you by the waist to still your movements as you try to find a comfortable position while not realising just how uncomfortable it becomes for him.

“It doesn’t have to be,” his whisper is just as soft as yours as he looks up to you, “we don’t have to make it weird.”

A compromise, you’ll take it. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” As much as you hate it when he replies to your questions with his own, you nod your head with a sheepish look on your face, though it doesn’t satisfy Lando as a valid answer. “I need you to say it, baby.”

You answer comes of in an instant. “I do, please.”

“Such good manners,” he mumbles while giving you that boyish grin you love oh so much. When he catches biting the corner of your lip, you’re broken out of your daydream by his thumb pulling your lip free. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” his thumb caresses the side of your lip, “that’s my job, anyway.”

Your cheeks flush at his playful comment, and you can't help but smile at his words. "Your job, huh?" you tease, feeling the tension in the air starting to dissipate.

Lando chuckles, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your waist. "Among other things," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before you give yourself the opportunity to overthink, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Lando’s lips – it’s only a peck, a hesitant one at that, but not completely uncharted territory when you think about it. The two of you have shared kisses before, at Christmas or New Year’s at midnight, but somehow this simple peck feels different than any of those other occasions. Lando doesn’t rush you. He’s a patient man after all, and he knows that the feelings he has for you are reciprocated by the feelings you have for him. So when you look him with widened eyes, he gives you a soft smile and it does wonders to calm your nerves. It doesn’t take you long to press your lips against his once again, but this time the kiss is deeper, more passionate, and filled with the unspoken words that have lingered between you for too long.

It starts off with another peck, but this time you take the initiative to deepen the kiss, and the appreciative groan that leaves Lando’s lips makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hands move from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, while yours tangle in his hair, revelling in the softness of his curls – and the fact that all of this feels almost familiar in some kind of a way. He’s not shy as he lets his tongue explore your mouth, in fact, he encourages you to do the same. It’s a messy kiss filled with colliding tongues and mixed breaths, and the hands that were on your waist one moment are now on your hips, encouraging their slow movement against his groin. It’s not a subtle build-up for any of you, either. It a matter of seconds, you find yourself dry-humping your childhood best friend in his hotel room, and in a couple more, both of you are whimpering into the kiss.

You’re both out of breath and breathing deeply as you rest your forehead against Lando’s. Thankfully, his hands continue to guide your hips as their movement get more and more erratic, and you him groan out, “Slow down, baby.”

You let out an objective whimper in return, whispering out a weak, “No.”

“No?” Lando repeats, his breath hitting your exposed neck in a light chuckle, “Do you want to come?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, letting your hands grab handfuls of his hair, “but you can’t fuck me.”

The whine that comes from your lips can only be described as bratty when Lando forces your hips to cease their movements, raising an eyebrow at you as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”

“You can’t fuck me, Lando.” You mumble, trying to move your hips again, but his hold is too powerful against your attempts. “At least not tonight.”

“And why is that, Tink?” He takes in your wide eyes and shuddering breath in, thinking he’d done something wrong, something you didn’t like. “You want to come, no?” He thinks at that moment, as you give him a nod with that dreamy and almost innocent look on your face, he could die and he’d be happy with where his life has led him, but he gives you a confused look, “Then what is the problem?”

“Um, you have a race tomorrow,” you explain as your fingers gently slide down to meet at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to jinx anything.”

As a respond to your words, Lando gives you a look of disbelief, “You don’t want to jinx me having a good race,” he mumbles.

You give him another nod, “Are you mad at me?”

“Am I mad at you?” Lando repeats the question, and he flips the two of you over in a smooth motion so that you're lying on the bed with him hovering above you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Answer the question for me, will you?”

You take a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “No,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Why would you be mad at me?”

Lando's lips curve into a playful smile as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, “Good girl.” As he moves down your body, you let out a protesting sound, but he quickly shushes you as he positions himself between your legs. “I’m going to make you come, and you’re not talking to Micheal Italiano ever again.” He taps the side of your hips to signal you to raise them up as he carefully takes off your underwear and then murmurs to himself, “Pretty girl, too.”

With a blush which is quickly spreading onto your cheeks and neck, you raise yourself onto your elbows as you watch him give you the do-over. “Lando,” you plead.

“Oh baby, you're wet,” he teases, “don’t worry, though, I’ll help you with that.” He also gives you a look while grabbing both of your thighs, “And the shirt fucking stays on.”

After the events of the previous night with Lando working wonders between your legs for the remainder of the night, he honestly didn’t expect to start the morning with you returning the favour. Alas there you were, between his legs, with sleepy eyes and an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just given him the best blowjob of his life. And as the two of you make your way along the paddock, he wishes he was back in his hotel room with you in his arms. You try your best to distract him from overthinking everything and costing himself the race, and Lando is aware of what you’re trying to do – though that doesn’t mean you succeed completely.

You can tell by the small frown of eyebrows that he is lost inside his head, probably double guessing every aspect of the strategy his team debriefed him about this morning. With a deep inhale, you give his hand a small squeeze, halting your movements to stop him alongside you. “Hey,” you call out gently, “you’re going to be amazing out there, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know, it’s just the pressure is getting to me.” You watch him sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts, “I’ll be fine before I go in the car, I promise.”

You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “I know you will. After all, you feel the–”

“Need for speed.” He completes the sentence without thinking, which makes the two of share a short laughter. “Thanks, Tink.”

“You’re welcome,” lifting yourself up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft peck on his lips, “I’ll watch the race with your dad, okay?” You chuckle at his reaction when he lets out a prolonged groan, “What?”

“He’s going to make fun of us, big time.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Go,” you say in between laughter, “don’t be late and for the love of God, be careful!”

Lando chuckles at your playful warning, giving you a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am!”

It doesn’t take long for you to find Adam, who gives you a knowing look, in the sea of spectators in the McLaren garage. And as the race begins, you and Adam stand side by side, your eyes fixed on the track where the race is unfolding. The first four laps as the Lando leads the race makes your heart beat so hard, you can practically feel the excitement coursing through your veins. Each turn and straightaway that Lando navigates flawlessly adds to the anticipation building in the air. Even when he returns to his original position, you’re on the edge, praying to whatever deity up there for him to finish this race without and incident. You’ve told him million times before that you don’t get F1 at all, you’ve always thought the adrenaline linked with the sport to be a negative feeling – too heavy, too much and definitely not something you want to feel every weekend. But in the moment that Lando passes the finishing line P2, you realise why people are so obsessed with this sport. Because when Lando crosses the finish line, you find yourself cheering as loudly as anyone else. The rush of emotions, once alien to you, now feels like a shared celebration of human achievement and dedication.

Lando is all smiles when he finally finds his way back to you, and he’s giving you a kiss the moment he has you back in his arms; celebrating with the team in the paddock was a whirlwind of emotions. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, his big smile is infectious.

So you’re honestly confused when he starts dragging you through the hallways of the club you went to for his celebrations with the rest of the team. The beat of the music playing back in the dancefloor echoes in the hallway as he leads you down the hall. The lights, the laughter, and the energy of the celebrations in the main area of the club are still audible, but you can only hear the muffled sounds of the celebration being held for him. “Lando,” in hopes of finally getting some answers, you say his name for the umpteenth time, but he just looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”

He's silent as he wraps his arms around your waist and before you can repeat your question he buries his head in the crook of your neck. While you’re thinking about what could’ve caused his sudden need to be alone with you, he’s very glad that you’ve opted to wear sneakers tonight instead of heels.

“Baby,” you murmur, your fingers running through his curls in an attempt to bribe him, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.” His voice is muffled by your skin and you can feel the breath he exhales on your shoulder.

You purse your lips and give him a few moments for him to break on his own, but when he doesn’t, you sigh softly. “Something is wrong.”

He raises his head momentarily to give you an unamused look, then bury his head back into your neck, “I saw you and Oscar.”

“Yeah, we were talking about the race.” Your confirmation leaves you confused as he lets out a scoff, and you find yourself warily asking, “Is there something wrong with that?”

You hear him scoff again and then, “Well I didn’t particularly like it.”

You gently push him off of you as you try to look past his confused expression and pouted lips, “You didn’t like me talking to your teammate… about your race.”

“Well when you put it like that–”

“Lando he is two years younger than us, and he has a girlfriend you do realise that, don’t you?” Your hands rest on either side of your body on your hips as you give him a small grin, “You were jealous, weren’t you?”

His eyes widen as he nods, “Well yeah, Tink, I think that one was very much obvious when I dragged you here.”

“I mean,” you drawl, “it was kind of cute, you know?”

As his eyes narrow, Lando walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the wall. “Well I am a cute person.”

“Oh yeah,” you let out a giggle, “the cutest.” Your fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt while you look up at him to meet his eyes, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we should probably get back to the party?” He mumbles, his eyes drifting as he looks around the hall.

You fist the collar of his shirt as you raise yourself up on your tiptoes, your voice lowering down for only him to hear even if it’s a deserted hallway, “You don’t have a race tomorrow.”

His eyes come back down to meet yours, “Well yes, it’s Mond– oh,” it takes a moment for him to realise what you’ve meant, and you’re thrown over his shoulder in an instant.

“Wha– Lando put me down!” You shriek, “What are you doing?”

His voice is playful as he starts walking towards the back door of the club, “We are not leaving that hotel room for a few days.”

It doesn’t take long for you to start laughing, “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs the opposite shoulder, “but I’m your idiot.”

The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but you can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you murmur, “Yeah, yeah you are.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff

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lovedrruunk · 4 months ago

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Dating Jinx Headcanons (´ཀ`」 ∠)

Vi version!

I’m so sorry but this girl is so greasy. Smells like gunpowder and hair grease 24/7. She’s like a sphinx cat where if she sits down on something she’ll leave an oil spot so be warned because you’ll have to throw out any white sheets or cushions. She’s completely in denial about this by the way, loves to say she smells like “glitter and wonder” like no bitch when you get in the bath the water turns rainbow

Loves doing your hair! She’s either really good at it or really bad at it, depends on the day. Loves using accessories that she makes herself + giving you really fun hairstyles. “What was the inspiration behind this look...?” “A swan.”

Is actually really embarrassing. Taking her out in public feels like a humiliation ritual. Half the time it’s shit she does on purpose just being herself the other half is her being completely unaware. 100% lacks social awareness and you always find yourself apologizing for her. “Isn’t it crazy that they wouldn’t let us in?” “YOU’RE BAREFOOT.”

Overly honest at the worst times. She’ll blurt out stuff like, “That guy smells like wet dog” while the guy is standing right next to you which makes you want to crawl in a hole. If you scold her about it she’ll just snap back with “would you rather me lie?”

Loves to draw on your skin with markers. She’ll doodle hearts, smiley faces, and even little stick figures of the two of you. It’s messy but endearing, and it’s her own quirky way of being intimate with you

Stays up late just to watch you sleep. As scary and creepy as this sounds sometimes after a day full of her usual mayhem, she’ll find peace just staring at you sleep. She’ll never admit to doing it but there’s something about seeing you calm that makes her feel grounded

Your RIDE OR DIE!!! Don’t let her hear anybody say anything even remotely negative about you because she will be on their necks immediately. If there’s anyone you just slightly dislike, she’ll HATE them with her entire soul like it’s crazy. Your opps are her blood sworn enemies it doesn’t even matter if you’re over what they’ve done to you because she very well is NOT like she’s the type to be madder than you and mad FOR you. Unironically loves gossiping and will remember every little detail you tell her

Unbelievably bad at picking up hints. You’ll be sending every signal under the sun when you want her to calm down in a public place and she’ll just smile and wave, thinking you’re being affectionate, meanwhile you're trying to get her to stop climbing a memorial statue.

Loves it when you hold her hand. even if she pretends it’s no big deal. Her fingers will always end up intertwined with yours, and she’ll usually murmur something about how soft yours are or about wanting to do your nails

Has a weirdly sweet way of saying goodbye. Before you leave for the day she’ll pull you into a bear hug and whisper something like “Don’t go dying without me” before planting a quick kiss on your cheek. It’s her own weird version of “Take care.”

All for now!! The jinx brainrot is very much real

#I LOVE HAA I JUST LOVW HAAAAAARRRR #har har har har #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #arcane x reader #arcane league of legends x reader #arcane league of legends #x reader #arcane

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monsters00km · 9 days ago

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Arcane is a Tragedy.

I think this needs said. And Boldly and Italicized.

tragedy, branch of drama that treats in a serious and dignified style the sorrowful or terrible events encountered or caused by a heroic individual. By extension the term may be applied to other literary works, such as the novel. - encyclopedia Britannica

I keep seeing people talk about how the Zaun and Piltover issue is unresolved. And I NEED you to hear this. This show is a tragedy.

This is not some YA where everything gets tied up in a bow. Or a fantasy that ends with the great and powerful evil being destroyed and now we need to build a new society based on good.

The ending is supposed to be unhappy. And I need people to understand this.

I understand if you don't like it. But I need you to stop saying it's unresolved. Bc it is. It just isn't resolved in a manor that you like.

And if you look at the definition this fits Arcane perfectly.

Who are the Heroic individuals?

Jayce

Viktor

Mel

Caitlyn

Jinx

Ekko

Almost every one of them made decisions that made things worse. Regardless of their intentions. Mel gives Jayce and Viktor the opportunity to create hextech. Jayce creates Hextech. And as a result to this, Viktor gets consumed by Hextech and tried to "save" everyone. Ekko follows Jayce and sets everyone on this path. Jinx tries to save her family and end up killing them. Vi is constantly trying to save everyone, and no matter how hard she tries she can't. Caitlyn tries to help Zaun and makes the right choice in not killing Jinx. But in doing so Piltover gets attacked and her mother dies.

Vi is a great example of this. She tries again and again, but each outcome is negative. And pretty much everytime is not because of her, it's because of everyone around her.

She tries to turn herself in. Benzo dies and Vander gets kidnapped. Tries to save Vander milo and claggor die. Tries to step away from powder to calm her rage, gets imprisoned and Powder gets taken in by Silco. Tries to go after Powder and let Caitlyn and Ekko go to Piltover, Jinx attacks the bridge in a rage. Gets caitlyn to safety powder blows herself up. Gets Jayce to infiltrate and take out a shimmer factory, jayce kills a kid. Stops caitlyn from hurting Jinx, council gets blown up. Stops Caitlyn from hurting Jinx, gets broken up with. Helps save her dad, dad loses himself after Jayce kills Viktor. Like poor girl. Is out here trying her best. And to no fault of her own, everything just keeps failing.

And those are just scratching the surface. This entire story is that Viktor quote "In our pursuit to do great, we failed to do good."

It's is everywhere.

Silco tries to free Zaun, but in doing so, he enslaves Zaun children and gets a large portion of the population addicted to Shimmer.

Hemeirdinger tried to create a city that valued science and progress and failed to see the corruption around him, which caused inequality.

Vander, in his pursuit to save the undercity, makes a deal with the sheriff. But in doing so, he doesn't help Zaun with any of their problems. All he is doing is keeping them safe.

Sorry, i feel like this was sporatic, and i don't know how to fix it. But this show was never about a happy ending. Or an ending where everything gets resolved to the satisfaction of the characters or the viewers. It is a tragedy. That is about these characters and the choices they make and the realistic ending.

And before you say it! Think about if it is actually realistic. And not an idealistic reality that you want.

#arcane #caitlyn kiramman #vi #jinx #viktor #jayce talis #mel merdada #ekko #silco #vander

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bwat5-blog · 28 days ago

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Quick Response To Some Fresh Lunacy

**Spoilers For Arcane**

So while I have only delved into the sheer bedlam that is the Arcane Critical tag once, every now and then one of those feisty little diesel drinkers makes it onto my feed and I am treated to something like this as reasons season 2 supposedly sucked (their phrasing was much more unpleasant):

1. The people of the Undercity died to save Piltover while wearing Enforcer uniforms despite Piltover doing nothing to earn it. 2. Silco was turned into a mouthpiece for forgiveness and letting go of the past despite being one of the only pro-zaun characters. 3. Jinx was redeemed by sympathizing with topsiders, forced to apologize for killing Caitlyn's mom and felt like she needed to die so Vi could run off with Caitlyn. 4. Vi didn't care about the grey and serviced Caitlyn in a prison cell where she was locked away by Enforcers as a kid. 5. Jayce acting like Viktor's illness that was caused by Piltover wasn't something that needed to be cured. 6. Ekko never calls out Heimerdinger for his failings, Vi for joining the Enforcers, and risks his people (the firelights) to help Piltover. 7. Sevika almost being cut completely, never reacting to Isha's death or interacting with Jinx in act 3 and risking her life to help Piltover which is way out of character.

Okay... breathe deep... it hurts.. I know it hurts. It hurt me as well to read such a strong concentration of felonious stupidity all in one place as well. But we must never falter. There are a lot of ways I could respond to this. And perhaps at some point I will go more in-depth. But the simple fact is nothing here requires a long, drawn out, point-by-point defense. Because I have seen the show. Which clearly gives me the upper hand here. So, I am going to give each of these the amount of attention they deserve.

The people of the Undercity died to save Piltover while wearing Enforcer uniforms despite Piltover doing nothing to earn it

Hey there. Remember him? Does it seem like once he pacified Piltover he was just gonna call it a day, get back in his gigantic astral hamster ball and fuck off back to the compound? No. His goal was the evolution of humanity. Not Piltover. Jayce spells this out clearly. "This isn't a fair request". But it is the truth. And regarding the uniforms. The average Undercity character is seen is some variety of leathers/cloth/wool whatever that usually is displaying a decent amount of skin. THE ENFORCERS WEAR ARMOR.

Silco was turned into a mouthpiece for forgiveness and letting go of the past despite being one of the only pro-zaun characters

Okay. I am going to make this is as simple as possible so you can follow along with me:

As we know, Silco is not there. Jinx is essentially working this out in her own mind through these hallucinations

Her status as Silco's daughter, being a symbol, his influence and shadow, it is all tying her to the past which as we know is filled to the brim with delicious sugary trauma.

Even though he was a monster, she views him as a father figure. And as much as it sucks to say probably more than Vander. She was so young when Vander died. She was with Silco during her real formative years. And I would bet she has pushed Vander away mentally to protect herself after everything that has occured. So while Vi sees Vander in the barfight when she wants to give up, Jinx sees Silco.

Silco is giving Jinx the permission Jinx realizes she has to give Vi to save both of them.

Jinx was redeemed by sympathizing with topsiders, forced to apologize for killing Caitlyn's mom and felt like she needed to die so Vi could run off with Caitlyn

Again. HUMANITY ENDING THREAT. Also ya know her fucking sister wanted her by her side.

OH NO! OUR MURDEROUS MENTALLY ILL TERRORIST IS HEALING AND TRYING TO TAKE ACCOUNTABILITY FOR HER MISTAKES! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! NOT CHARACTER GROWTH!

3. True. In that moment she felt she needed to die.. because as she says, she feels "there's no good version of me". I know it's unfair you have to watch the whole scene to get it. But you have taken a profound moment of Jinx's love for her sister and her recognition of how Vi loves her and made it.. whatever this was supposed to be.

Vi didn't care about the grey and serviced Caitlyn in a prison cell where she was locked away by Enforcers as a kid.

I have done this so... so many times. I am not doing it again. I will go with the same blanket statement I have been using lately: A non-lethal crowd dispersal weapon in targeted locations against dangerous drug lords and a terrorist who likes blowing shit up? Seems like a decent plan.

Well done. You have taken a beautiful moment of meaning between these two characters and simplified it down to the utmost degree. There are numerous thoughtful, in-depth and heartfelt breakdowns of this scene available and I promised myself I wasn't going to waste a bunch of my time responding to this mind-melting ignorance. So I will just say this. If that is all you see in that scene, I really am sorry for you. I hope someday things improve.

Jayce acting like Viktor's illness that was caused by Piltover wasn't something that needed to be cured

Because it wasn't about Piltover or Zaun you crusty dishrag. Viktor was trying to purify all of humanity after a life-time of seeing the imperfections and weaknesses in himself as a start. Jayce loved Viktor. I'm not even getting to romantic or platonic, he LOVED VIKTOR. I suppose you would have preferred for him to look at Viktor and yell "You know what you diseased freak you have a point! Good for you taking everyone's humanity. WELL DONE!"

Ekko never calls out Heimerdinger for his failings, Vi for joining the Enforcers, and risks his people (the firelights) to help Piltover.

Heimerdinger is very aware of his failings. You have to watch in season one. Again.. watching the show you talk about.. very hard I know. And as close as he and Ekko are in season two I think we can safely say they are on the same page. Never mind that Ekko has shown he has no trouble calling out anyone who needs it.

Ekko and Vi are family. So while it is true he may be angry and we don't see it, I think a character of immense heart like Ekko who loves Vi would actually talk with her. You know.. rather than the savage degradation of Vi some people seem to wish for.

AGAIN FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY

Sevika almost being cut completely, never reacting to Isha's death or interacting with Jinx in act 3 and risking her life to help Piltover which is way out of character

She is a side character. Sorry but she is. But after a lifetime trying and failing to stand for Zaun she becomes their first ever voice on the council. She is the representative of every person she has wanted to protect. Sorry if that doesn't cut it.

When exactly would we have seen this? I also would have been curious to see her reaction but they were dealing with the whole ya know.. war?!

Same to above. I wish we could have seen Jinx rallying the undercity with Ekko. I actually give you this one. I think this was a missed opportunity.

ONCE MORE WITH FEELING

I'm sorry scary Viktor. I don't know why they keep forgetting you.

#arcane #arcane season 2 spoilers #vi arcane #jinx arcane #caitvi #vi and jinx #silco #arcane zaun #jayce talis #arcane viktor #sevika #isha and jinx #piltover and zaun #jinx powder

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maddiethegoodwitch · 2 months ago

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🎄 AN ARCANE CHRISTMAS ༄

— summary : basically just what arcane characters are like at christmas

— i missed writing so bad & my caitvi headcanons got a lot of likes and i was like yay!! and since it’s the first of december.. i feel like this was needed. so happy arcane christmas ! also this is an au where vi & caitlyn are together , everybody is alive & they’re all happy and healthy in their respective cities but are all friends due to connections 😝 never done something like this before so tell me if i should do more or quit forever

— mainly includes vi, caitlyn, jinx, ekko sevika, isha, jayce, mel & viktor

— by the way i read @rhiannonsknife ‘s rhiannon christmas headcanons earlier and i thought the layout was so beautiful so that’s what the design is inspired by !! none of the hcs tho from what i remember hahah these r all original (ur writing is so good pls never die)

— tags bc yay @thankynext @tortvredpoetsblog

secret santa!

some people (jinx) complained about getting presents for everybody, so caitlyn suggested they do a secret santa! vi wrote down everybody’s names and they all got folded into a hat, and they all picked one (except isha) bla bla bla u know how it goes . on christmas afternoon, everybody goes over to the kiramman house for christmas dinner , and before the dinner they agreed to exchange gifts. something had gone wrong as sevika ended up with two gifts and jayce with none.. “vi! you put sevika in twice?” - a very angry caitlyn. she wanted this to go perfectly:( “i’m sorry! i don’t think about jayce a lot!” - a stuttering vi trying for an excuse because she feels bad. jayce sulking because he doesn’t have a present but sevika can’t give him one of hers because one of them is arm attachments from jinx and the other is cute stickers for it from mel. isha being sad that she wasn’t included but everybody got her something little and cute so she cheers up. caitlyn pulling jinx’s name and using this to try and repair their relationship, absolutely spoiling jinx with gifts. she even earns a smile :( viktor getting ekko and worrying bc they aren’t that close but jayce helps him.. they all gave jayce their sprouts as an apology and made vi do 50 sit ups (caitlyn suggested it..)

decorating the tree!

christmas for caitlyn is her roman empire. she needs everything to be perfect and she’s not a beige christmas or a green christmas. she’s a white christmas. her tree is white and the baubles are red and silver. the first two christmases after the war, she never let anybody help, but this year she felt festive and like it was an activity they could all do together. however, as soon as isha got anywhere near the tree with her hands covered in chocolate after eating out of a melted advent calendar, caitlyn was done. she gave vi the stern look and vi had to distract isha while caitlyn “fixed” the tree , and instead they all did a silly one at jinx’s place :) nobody was mad at caitlyn because they know how much she loves christmas and she surprised them all with the house being completely lit up and decorated

sevika , jinx & isha

sevika was unsure about spending christmas with everybody , as she wasn’t close with any of them except jinx and isha . jinx was invited because of vi obviously & that included isha too . vi suggested sevika come if she wanted to, and though she’d never admit it, sevika didn’t want to spend christmas alone after the crazy year, so she agreed. isha was just excited for people to be getting her presents… and stuffing her face with caitlyns cooking. caitlyn was actually left to look after isha for a little while & she loved it, isha gets excited when she sees caitlyn now. “i wanted to be the cool aunt..” - a pouting vi watching caitlyn hold isha. jinx felt awkward because she got the “family invitation”, but after a chat with vi & everyone embracing her she was fine and actually loved feeling like part of a family again. sevika was awkward when she arrived on christmas morning but after one friendly chat with vi, she figured she could talk with anybody & she did!

christmas dinner!

the people in charge of cooking christmas dinner were jayce, caitlyn and mel. caitlyn cooked for her and vi every year, and since christmas was at their house, she was in charge by default. mel walked into the kitchen to chat with caitlyn and saw she was struggling, so she called jayce in to help because the both of them attended cooking classes together and were fairly talented at it.. it came out amazing and was gone in about ten minutes. we already know that vi is a messy eater, but after filling her plate and wolfing it down, there was gravy all round her mouth 😭 caitlyn made sure to make a special plate for isha that had things she would like (isha is a picky eater to me..) because vi told her about it. jayce almost burnt the chicken trying to impress mel with drink pouring… ekko , viktor & sevika hadn’t spent a lot of time with the rest of the group so they were cautious about showing their eating habits, but viktor ended up eating copious amounts of cauliflower, ekko eating like half of the yorkshire puddings & sevika eating about 5 whole pigs with the amount of pigs in blankets she ate

caitvi

they both agreed to not get the other anything big or special, but they both did. caitlyn helped vi get back on her feet (i hc vi works at a mechanics now :3) and vi wanted to repay her, probably getting her some jewellery with a cringey engravement on it and she goes red while cait is reading it but caitlyn loves it… 🤗 & caitlyn got vi some boots that they saw in a shop window and vi said “do you think i’d look hot in those” and caitlyn thought yes.

jinx & ekko

so they aren’t dating but they’re like. lowk flirting like hiiii.. and caitlyn picks up on it and tells vi and vi’s like. “nah there’s no way…” but then she trails off as jinx actually laughs at something ekko says.. jinx doesn’t believe she has a crush on ekko but they spend basically all night talking to eachother other than the small conversations with the others .. jinx introduces ekko to isha and isha asks if that’s jinx’s boyfriend and jinx laughs then ekko feels bad ): but jinx makes it up to him by showing him that she actually got him a present!! like some cool graffiti cans or something & ekko loves them

mistletoe

caitlyn ignored vi’s protesting to have no mistletoe and put it up ALL over the house and i mean everywhere.. she was constantly saying “ooooh is that mistletoe i see!” but vi found it cute so she dragged caitlyn under it and kissed her (jinx scoffed..). jinx and ekko ended up under there and after cait pointed it out, jinx snagged it off the roof, threw it on the floor and stepped on it. “what? i don’t want our first kiss to be infront of my sister and her stupid girlfriend.” “stupid girlfriend?” “first kiss? so there’ll be more?” “shut up.” jayce kept trying to get mel under there but she was dodging it , & jayce got frustrated .. “y’dont wanna kiss me or something?” “well..”

mall santa

jinx took isha into the christmas markets like a week before christmas and did not expect to see sevika dressed as santa. isha literally noticed it before jinx. she tugged on jinx’s arm and pointed at sevika until jinx realised and she was like holy shit.. isha still happily sat on santa’s knee, got a picture and a big hug too while jinx was stood there teasing her. “i think isha wants like.. a hextech hoverboard for christmas.. can ya do that, santa?” but after it sevika payed her a visit and threatened jinx if she told anybody.. she still ended up telling people after they ate dinner on christmas LMAO

BONUS

jinx to vi : “ so you like .. live here now? ya fuckin’ priss..”

viktor almost cried because jayce got him like a cover for his cane because viktor mentioned that it had been really hurting his hands recently but he couldn’t get a new one

whenever vi and caitlyn did anything slightly intimate jinx would say “there we go! kiss an enforcer, ruin christmas..”

for some reason vi treated christmas crackers like an olympics game and would use all her strength to pull it so she got the bigger half.. but she just wanted to tell the corny jokes

jayce was super awkward the whole night & started talking to sevika thinking she was scary but they actually had a nice conversation

mel and caitlyn christmas gossiping over champagne and then watching the christmas special of gavin and stacey because i SAID SO and they’re british

vi drinking straight vodka until caitlyn stopped her because isha made grabby hands at it thinking it was water

caitlyn and vi cringe matching pyjamas that say mrs claus and mrs claus.

#🍰 — my writing .ᐟ #❄️ — christmas .ᐟ #headcanons 🐈#arcane #arcane headcanons #christmas #vi arcane #caitvi #caitlyn kiramman #mel medarda #jayce talis #viktor arcane #jinx arcane #isha arcane #sevika arcane #writing

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