#GOD this fucker corrupted my gif again.

[buwheal]

I'm sorry, Spamton. I know you won't believe me, but I'm sorry we hurt you.

[scaryscarecrows]

Oooooo gimme the director's cut for Secrets of Scary People! (Either just a single chapter of your choice or the whole work, it's up to you!)

Oh, God.

Okay. Cards on the table: as ff.net (wow so many popups these days) was...happy...to tell me, I started writing that collection in 2013. Just. Just remember that little factoid. :p

Aaanyways, first things first: many fandom creatives know intimately what I mean when I say 'hyperfixation'. That right there explains pretty much everything I do, because you have to find your joy somewhere, right? Right. So now that that's right out of the way, let's get into this.

So yeah. 2013. 2013 was right about the time I hit peak Overwhelmed and basically had a crisis. Hey, I'd busted my ass to graduate high school early, chosen a random college major that I didn't really care about or want to do but 'college isn't option', (I was failing everything by this point, I'll be honest) and my mother's health was really starting to take a turn, which meant I was the Caregiver. On top of that, as plenty of Only/Eldest Daughters (gender-neutral variant) know, expecting, like, support? Nah. This is to say that I was in a bad mental place.

And this fucker. This absolute jackass.

brought me so much joy. That sounds, admittedly, like the start of some Very Bad manifesto, but I swear it isn't. I had seen most of this movie on cable years earlier, but I picked up a copy out the $5 bin at Walmart and...well...look, I spent my entire childhood hearing about 'brains are more important than looks', and he did make that toxin all by himself. Apparently. And he's a doctor. Okay, so the villainy is a little bad, but we all have faults and I was willing to overlook them.

(And Cillian Murphy is both pretty and a gift to watch in pretty much everything, so really, this isn't my fault.)

I've been writing pretty much daily since...nngh...2007? Ish? I don't know, it was like the more age-appropriate way of having an imaginary friend. I had not written fanfiction, however. I didn't know it was much of a thing, either, until I Googled that bastard up there for information Begins had not provided and tripped over ff.net. Fanfiction seemed like a fun, no-stakes challenge--new enrichment for my burnt-out ass--so I did a Wiki dive for basic information, picked up a copy of Year One, and banged out about five or six one-shots over the course of a weekend. One of those would eventually become All Those Things You Fear, the others would end up in Scary People. I'll admit, I wanted him to have nice things once in a while, because

A) I felt bad about the Grandma thing, and about the bully thing. Kindred spirit! At least a little. I got it, anyway.

B) I'm sorry, I acknowledge that Nolan Crane is a corrupt jerk, but Zsasz does belong in Arkham (I Googled him too, at the time) and Rachel needed to just admit that.

At the same time, bullying him a little seemed like a good idea. Especially after further Wiki exploration turned up the discovery of Arkham Asylum (though I was NOT happy to find out what happened to Scarecrow at the end of that one). I did find a good longplay of Asylum that I watched (I had no way to play it then), which shaped my personal take on both Crane and his place of work a little more. Things snowballed: picked up a copy of Batman: Gothic for $1.50 and decided that yeah, comics are rad, actually, watched more movies, Gotham aired...and here we are today, with canon meatloaf.

What a ride. But I probably wouldn't have gotten on it if weren't for the autism and, like, bad mental health. BUT then again I'm pretty sure that's why Bruce is Batman, so really, it's fine. :p

[streamafterlaughter]

New Kid

Chapter III: The Problem

MASTERLIST | chapter ii | playlist

summary: every party comes to an end. This one is no different, when you and Eddie are interrupted from your night of fun.

tags: so much angst, bullying/fist fighting/violence, strong language, mentions of weed and alcohol, fluff, slow burn, god dammit why won’t you kiss already 👹 eddie munson x reader, gn!nb!reader

a/n: I wrote this one super quickly, im a big fan of this turning point. Chapter 4 is already in the works! It will be posted shortly after this one, I know this one is shorter. Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated.

Your POV

“Get out of the car, freaks.” Jason’s voice is muffled by the glass, and you don’t dare roll your window down. He’s got a beer bottle in his hand, and his friends behind him look just drunk enough to cause a scene.

You look to Eddie, “What the fuck do we do? Do we run? We’re way too drunk to drive.”

Eddie takes a minute to ponder that. “Shit, you’re right. Uh, let me handle this.”

—

Eddie’s POV

He takes a deep breath, heaving himself from the driver’s seat, and locking the door behind him. Eddie strides toward Jason carefully, ready to tell you to run if the moment calls. “Good evening, fellas! How are we this fine night?” Eddie places his hands on his hips, mocking Jason’s stance, causing him to drop his arms.

“Thing is, Munson, we heard you’ve been going around corrupting the fine young kids at Hawkins.” Jason takes a step closer to Eddie, meaning to assert his dominance.

Eddie snorts, baffled. “That’s it, man? You came all the way down here to accuse me of offering kids refuge from people like you?!” He gestures wildly to the boys before him.

“See, the guys and I have talked, and we feel you’re endangering these kids. With your satanic games, your loud hellish ‘music,’” he air quotes, “and the way you let yourselves be perceived. We think,” Jason looks back to Andy and Chance, who nod to confirm what he’s saying. “that it’s time we put you in your place.”

Before Eddie can brace himself, Andy and Chance are behind him, each with an arm in their grasp. Jason runs at Eddie, fist clenched, and connects with his jaw. Eddie struggles against the jocks’ grip on him, but Jason hits him again, this time in the gut, causing him to keel over on impact. Eddie spits at him, a mix of blood and saliva leaving a tang in his mouth.

—

Your POV

The second punch rips you out of the van, safety be damned. You hop on the taller jock’s back, your arm wrapping around his throat. He releases his grip on Eddie, and you scramble off of him, charging straight at Jason.

“Hey, fucker!” You screech, voice raspy from the joint and cigarettes. You catch Jason off guard, hitting him square in the nose, then bring your heavy boot down on his foot. This gives Eddie time to get off the ground, but now Jason’s got your arms locked behind your back.

“What now, you little slut? Who do you think you are, coming to Hawkins dressed like a demon, thinking you can just get away with it. Hanging out with trailer trash like him, you deserve what’s about to happen.” Jason spits in your ear as he talks, and you can smell the heavy liquor on his breath. The beer hadn’t been his first drink.

Eddie tackles Jason from the side then, getting him to release you. You have the chance to run, to call for help, but somewhere deep down you know the police won’t do any good. You’re probably the ones looking at assault charges if you can’t get out of here.

Eddie’s pounding Jason into near unconsciousness, so you run at him, tugging him off by the shoulders. “Eddie, we have to go! NOW!” He whips his head up to look at you. His eyes are wild with anger, nose dripping blood, and his hair is a mess. You look down and find his rings bloodied, and Jason in a heap underneath him, struggling to free himself from Eddie’s weight. The fear in your eyes brings Eddie back to Earth, and he pulls himself off the jock, scrambling to his feet.

The two of you leave Eddie’s van parked in front of Gareth’s and book it. The wet ground causes you to slip before finding your footing, and you run faster than you have since you outran the cops at a protest last summer. Your heart pounds hard in your chest, each breath more ragged than the last. Eddie’s in front of you, arms pumping at his sides to push him faster. He’s done this before, probably more than a few times.

You have no idea where you are when the two of you finally stop to catch your breath. You look over to Eddie, who’s hunched over with his hands on his knees, his breath heaving. You walk over to him slowly, not to startle him. You see the sign now, Forest Hills Trailer Park. You think of home, the orange line to Forest Hills, the city where no one minded if you wore too much denim and leather, too many pins pushed through your face. You take a second to mourn, before worrying again that you have no clue where you are.

“Hey.” you say, putting your hand on his shoulder. He stands up then, straightening himself to look less hurt than he probably is.

“Hey.”

“Where are we?” The trailers are indistinguishable, but you follow Eddie to the front door of one that he must frequent.

He hesitates. “Uh, we’re at my… my uncle’s.” Eddie opens the door of the trailer, leading you into a small living room/kitchen. “He works nights, so we can hang here ‘til the excitement dies down.”

“How the fuck did he find us?!” You start pacing as Eddie throws himself onto the couch. “They obviously weren’t invited to Gareth’s party, right?” You stop to look at him.

Eddie shrugs, “We have this party every year, he must have caught wind somehow. People talk. The wrong people listen.” He’s got a tissue shoved in his nostril, and in the light you can see he’s starting to bruise under his eye. “Are you okay?” He looks at you. Besides being covered in dirt, and your hand aching from punching Jason, you’re in perfect condition compared to the bruised and bloody boy.

You scoff. “Are you okay?!” You ask, incredulously. You walk into his kitchen, and help yourself to the frozen peas in the freezer. You grab a dish rag and wrap the ice pack, then sit down almost on top of Eddie. “Here.” You hand the ice to him. He looks from the frozen peas to you, and you roll your eyes as you place them to his eye for him. Your faces are close, and he watches as you tend to him.

-

Eddie’s POV

Eddie can’t help but watch as you hold the ice to his eye. Even lacking half his vision, he’s intoxicated by your face. Your lips are slightly parted, your tongue sticking out in concentration. Your brow is furrowed, your nose wrinkled. He looks down, at the hand used to deck Jason, sitting tenderly in your lap. Purple bruises are already starting to form around your knuckles, and two of them are scabbing over with blood. He’s not sure if it’s yours or Jason’s, but he takes the busted hand in his own gently, bending and stretching each of your fingers. “Gotta make sure you didn’t break ‘em. How else am I gonna teach you guitar?”

You laugh, more to yourself. “What? I’m serious!” He clutches his chest, pretending to be hurt.

“No, I know you’re serious. But I know how to play guitar.” You smile at him, and he blushes with embarrassment.

“Of course you do, you’re literally the coolest person I’ve ever met.” He shakes his head quickly, causing his head to pound against his skull.

“Oh please, you’re the one who took on three guys,” you pause, “Wait. That’s not what I meant.”

Eddie erupts into laughter, leaning back into the couch and causing you to topple on top of him.

Your faces are so close together your noses are touching. You’re still holding the ice pack to his head, and he’s grasped a hand on your waist to steady himself.

That’s how you're found by Steve when he barges into Eddie’s trailer, Robin and Nancy barreling in behind him.

—-

Your POV

Oh, come on. “Hey, guys!” You scramble off of Eddie, much to your dismay. You swear you see Eddie frown as you move, but you blame it on your lingering intoxication.

“Are you guys alright?!” Robin rushes over to you, checking your face and clothes like a concerned mother. “We heard what happened. What a little bitch.”

“They seem pretty okay to me.” Steve teases, looking from your blushing face to Eddie’s.

“Steve, shut up, this is serious.” Nancy backhands him in the stomach, causing him to flinch.

“We’re okay, we’re good!” You grab Robin’s wrists, removing her arms from fussing over you. “Jason and his fucking buddies jumped us, but we handled it. I’m more concerned about what’s gonna happen now.” You look back down at Eddie, his eyes glued to the floor.

“Nothing’s gonna happen.” He grumbles.

“What?”

“Jason’s too chickenshit to tell anyone he got beat up by a freak.” the anger in his tone is palpable. “He’ll lie and say he injured himself at practice or something. No one’s gonna know anything.” He seems so sure about it, furthering your belief that this isn’t Eddie’s first incident with Jason.

Steve shrugs. “He’s probably right, He’s always been a fucking coward.”

—

Eddie’s POV

The two have hated each other for Jason’s entire high school career. He targeted Eddie, a bold move going after a junior as a freshman. Each time, Eddie had let Jason get his punches in, only hitting back when Jason started bringing Andy and Chance around and making the fights unfair. These aren’t his proudest moments, rage filled testosterone affecting him like any other high school boy, but it’s something he grew used to as an outcast. He never wanted his problems to be anyone else’s, so he never snitched, never even told the guys about it. He never expected them to involve someone else, and it hurts beyond words that it was you. He’s embarrassed by the display of pure rage, despite having it be in self defense.

Eddie is freed from his thoughts when he hears you inquire, “Is it cool if I stay with you tonight? My mom’s gonna freak when she sees me.”

He looks up to see your eyes aren’t on him. His heart is beating painfully in his chest, desperately trying to catch up with how fast his brain is moving and his mouth spits out “Yes, yeah, of course you can.”

“Oh, I was uh, talking to Robin.” You smile sheepishly. Eddie looks back down at the floor, trying desperately to shield his warming cheeks.“Actually,” you pause, and his head snaps back up too quickly. “I think that’s a better idea. If you’re okay with it. I don’t wanna get Robin in any more trouble.”

Robin opens her mouth to respond, but quickly closes it when Steve nudges her side. Eddie speaks again, trying to remain neutral. “Yeah, you can take the bed. I got the couch.” He hates sleeping on the couch, especially when he’s drunk, but he’d rather sleep outside if it meant you could be comfortable.

“Great! Sleepover!” you clap your hands together, wincing at the pain in your hand shooting through you again.

“I think we’ll get going.” Steve says, stepping back toward the door. “Stay safe, okay? Don’t go doing any more stupid shit tonight.”

Eddie stands up to walk the three of them out the door, locking it behind him.

“So.” He says, looking at you from across the dimly lit room.

—

Your POV

“So.” Your heart is pounding, now that you’re alone with Eddie. You’ve had a superbly fantastic evening, followed by an extremely awful night, your buzz is fading, and your body aches from running. Despite it all, you’re more awake and refreshed than you’ve felt since moving to Hawkins.

Eddie strides slowly back to the couch, sitting next to you, but careful to leave a foot of space. This causes you to frown, and you make a scene of scooting closer to him. “I had fun tonight. Y’know, before the whole getting jumped thing.” You joke, leaning your head on his shoulder. Tonight is your night to be as readable as you can be, dropping as many hints that you want to keep spending time with Eddie.

Instead of responding, Eddie moves away from you again, leaving your head to fall onto your own shoulder. “Yeah, right, fun.” He scoffs, avoiding your eyes.

“Oh, come on.” You cup your hand under his chin, forcing him to look at you. “I haven’t had that much fun in, fuck, I don’t even know how long. I know it was bad, but you were fucking incredible.”

“Look who’s talking! You tackled Andy to the ground with two moves! You decked Jason in the face! That was probably the hottest thing—“ He cuts himself off, making his lips a tight line. You smile at him, relishing in the incomplete compliment.

“You’re kinda hot when you’re bloody too, Eds.” You get up before he can respond. “Mind if I use your shower? I don’t feel like sleeping in beer stench.”

“Of course, yeah. Down the hall to your left.” He motions to the back of the trailer. You take a bold step towards him as he stands up. “Do you have a shirt I could borrow?”

His eyes widen, looking into your own, heavy lidded and half closed. “Sure, yeah, I'll grab you one and a towel.” He takes a step back, stumbling over a stray shoe. You giggle, finding his discomfort delightfully charming, and make your way to his bathroom.

—

Eddie’s POV

Oh shit, oh god, oh fuck, Eddie’s brain goes in panicked circles as he hears the shower turn on. You’re in his house. His shower. Naked. You’ll be sleeping in his bed tonight. Granted, he won’t be, but the thought still makes his heart race. He digs desperately through his dresser, trying to find the perfect shirt for you to sleep in.

He chooses his favorite, a huge Metallica shirt with the album art for Ride The Lightning printed on it. It fits Eddie well, so he feels it’ll be the perfect size for you, long enough to cover everything, but short enough to sleep in comfortably. He grabs an old pair of cotton shorts as an afterthought, not wanting to imply that he expects you to walk around without pants on.

He tosses the clothes and the towel he’s grabbed from the small closet in the hall into the bathroom just as the water shuts off. Eddie runs to his room to grab his own shirt and pants to sleep in, then again to the hall closet to grab blankets for the couch.

As he walks back toward the bathroom, you walk out, toweling your dripping hair. You are not wearing his shorts, and the shirt is not as long as he had thought. He takes you in, noticing two tattoos on top of your knees that read “Hot Shot” and “No Kidding,” which he recognizes as two repeated phrases from Catcher In The Rye. When he finishes admiring you, he clears his throat to get your attention.

You smile at him. “Hey. Love this shirt, by the way. You might have to rip it off me if you want it back.” You walk past him to his room, and he fights back the urge to shove you against the wall after that comment.

—

Your POV

There’s no way I’m sleeping in here alone, you think as you throw yourself onto Eddie’s bed, admiring his room. He has posters all over his walls, and over his only mirror hangs the guitar stand his BC Rich must normally sit, empty now because he’d left it at Gareth’s. You sit up, studying his cluttered dresser, covered in band stickers, t-shirts and socks sticking out of the drawers. You turn around, and discover he has handcuffs hung up next to his bed frame. Your eyes widen as your mind wanders away to a very perverted place. You push that thought from your mind, moving your head around again to take in the rest of his room.

You hear the water shut off, and to your disappointment Eddie emerges with all of his clothes on. You silently thank the gods for earlier, for Eddie playing the show in such little clothing to keep your mind occupied.

“Hey.” Eddie greets you as he enters the room, a towel wrapped into a turban on his head. You giggle at the sight, how domestic the whole thing is for someone like him.

He catches you and laughs at himself. “What? I gotta take care of the mane, it’s my best feature!”

He takes the towel off to shake out his damp hair and you watch the whole thing.

“Can I brush it for you?” You say without thinking, but you don’t take it back. The question hangs in the air for seemingly ever, but Eddie eventually nods, walking to the bathroom and coming back with a comb.

You sit on the bed, and he sits in front of you, your legs on either side of him. You comb the ends first, gently detangling his hair with your fingers as you go. “How are you feeling?” You ask, feeling his deep breaths rise and fall as you tend to his head.

“I think I’m alright. I’m worried about you, though.”

“How come?” You can take care of yourself, you always have. Eddie doesn’t know that though.

“I mean, this was kind of a horrible first impression, no?”

You let out a short laugh. “I wouldn’t say that. I still had a lot of fun, if that’s what you’re concerned about. And my hand feels a lot better.” You reach your hand out for him to see, bending and stretching your fingers to show him it’s not broken.

“I’m glad.” He clasps your open hand in his, entwining his calloused fingers with your bruised ones. Your breathing hitches, and you try to hide it with a cough. “But that isn’t it. I never planned to put you in a situation like that. I’m sorry.”

You stop combing Eddie’s hair to look at him, craning your neck to the side so he can see the bewilderment on your face. “You know it’s not your fault, right? You couldn’t have predicted that would happen. You did what you had to do.” You rest your hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort him when all you really want to do is kiss him.

“I guess. That doesn’t mean I can’t wish it didn’t happen. I’m used to it, but that doesn’t mean you should have to be.”

“What are you implying?”

“You heard them, Y/N,” Eddie raises his voice slightly, startling you. “They hurt you because you were with me. You shouldn’t hang around me anymore.”

Your voice breaks when you respond, “Is that what you want?”

Eddie’s quiet, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes. “Of course not.”

“Good.” You take his face in both of your hands to make him look at you. You can see the tears welling in his big, soft eyes, as clearly as you feel them in your own. “It’s not what I want either.”

“We have a problem then.”

“And what’s that?”

“We’re stuck with each other.”

You smile at him, and his face breaks into the grin you’ve grown to adore. “Now, get some rest, I’ll see you in the morning.” He goes to get off the bed, but you grab him by the wrist and yank him back down.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“The couch?”

“Absolutely not, there could be monsters out there.”

Eddie snorts, and you give him your straightest face. “Okay, sweetheart, I’ll stay. Can’t have you quaking in your boots, can we?” That fucking petname’s gonna be the death of you.

Eddie climbs to the far side of the bed, and you settle against the wall facing him, your head resting in your hand. You feel your eyes get heavy, but you can’t bring yourself to close them, not wanting to stop looking at Eddie; his full lips, his big, doe eyes, the left one now clouded with a fat, swollen bruise. You want to more than anything to kiss him, climb on top of him, rip his stupid Nightmare on Elm Street t shirt off, but you don’t do any of it. The part of you wanting to save your dignity is too strong. Finally, you can’t stop your eyes from closing, letting Eddie’s soft breathing lull you to sleep.

—

Eddie’s POV

He doesn’t sleep much. He’s too busy watching you, and from the looks of it you’re not sleeping well, either. You kicked him awake around three AM, and you’ve been mumbling in your sleep for the last 20 minutes. Your face is scrunched, and you look like you’re in pain. He isn’t sure whether to wake you, or let you go through whatever is happening in your head.

It’s when you let out a blood curdling scream at three forty five that he decides to take action. “Y/N! Wake up, Y/N! I don’t like this! Wake up!” He shakes you by the shoulders, trying to yell over your banshee screech, and you eventually open your eyes, coming to an abrupt halt. The howl is replaced with ragged breaths as you bring a hand to Eddie’s cheek, recognizing the horror painted on his face.

“Oh, shit. I screamed, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Eddie, I should have warned you. It hasn’t happened in a long time. I didn’t think it would,” You can’t finish your sentence, can’t describe what you just saw, just remembering it causes your breath to catch. You’re embarrassed on top of the fear, worrying you’ve horrified Eddie to the point of never speaking to you again.

Eddie cups a hand around your neck, bringing your head into his shoulder. It’s there that you let loose your sobs, wracking your chest and throat as they fight their way out of your body, like a demon being exercised. Eddie grips you tightly, one hand on your neck while the other wraps tightly around your waist. You shake with cries until you’re too physically exhausted to continue, and when you remove your face from his shoulder you can see you’ve soaked his shirt with your tears and snot. Eddie rubs small circles on your back as you catch your breath, not daring to be the one to start the conversation.

“I’m sorry I woke you up.” You say quietly, wiping the remaining tears from your face. Eddie brings his thumb under your eye to help you, turning your face to look at him.

“I wasn’t really sleeping, love. Don’t worry about me. You wanna watch a movie, smoke a j? You hungry? I make a mean breakfast sandwich.”

You let yourself laugh, and it comes out as a half sob. “Sure, yeah. Thank you.” Eddie pushes himself off the bed, then extends a hand to pull you with him. He tucks you into his arm, walking you to the couch where he lays a blanket over you, stuffing it into the cushion on either side, before meandering to the kitchen, whistling as he pulls the ingredients from the fridge. You busy yourself rolling, forgetting your earlier lie about not knowing how, and take deep breaths as the panic of your nightmare fades.

The two of you munch on your bacon, egg, and cheddar cheese sandwiches as the movie plays, volume almost muted. The two of you pass the joint you’ve rolled back and forth.

“If you ever wanna talk about it-“ Eddie starts,

You wave your hand to silence him. “I will. Someday, I’m sure. Im too tired right now, though.” Eddie nods, completely understanding. You talk as the sun rises, until finally falling asleep in each other’s arms on the floor in front of the television.

chapter IV

tag list: @beebeerockknot @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five | send a message to be added

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Upper Lanes (Shattering the Time, Part 1.)

Description: A long time ago, a peaceful state ruled over the Lanes of Zaun. Yet one day, the protector was murdered by his rival and Lanes had gone to shit ever since, leading to the establishment of an independent Firelight base just out of Zaun. But this peace was to come to an end soon with old friends coming back, rising from the dead, and getting killed.

Part Summary: Vander was murdered fifteen years ago, but his ghost was still everywhere you went; as if he was looking over your shoulder, snickering at what you've been doing and guiding you. Especially now that you've taken over his position of being a mentor to Zaun's youngest. The cycle was starting anew - stupid kids, petty crimes, and enraged mentors. Soon enough, however, everything was about to change.

A/N: I need to confess that I simply love Ekko’s character in Arcane and I can’t wait to see his further development! Also, I changed the timeline a bit - instead of ten years after the night SIlco attacked, the story is taking place 15 years after the event of Arc 1.  It goes without saying that Vander and his dynamic with the kids is the flagship in this part - a few parts will actually be concentrated on the past and how things should've and could've been. I like this idea that while Firelights are all about living in the present, the reader is actually one who struggles a lot with it at times. Also, Butcher is basically Tahm Kench. I don't know if he'd ever make it to Arcane, but I love my toad sea demon and wanted him to be around.

Word count: 7.5K

Masterlist: H E R E | Ekko's playlist: the boy who shattered time

Each time you ventured into the streets of Zaun, they somehow looked messier than the last time you'd stuck your nose outside the colony. Each time, Lanes felt like a brand new, strange place you've never visited before. The Lanes were an ever-evolving, ever-changing organism that never stayed the same for too long. Nowadays, things are worse than ever; ever since Silco's takeover of the local politics, things have been deteriorating quicker than before.

The longer Silco usurped the throne, the deeper the Lanes drowned in his sea of bullshit, corruption, and extremely shady business. Everyone knew about it... But people rarely acted against it. Those who dared to riot were silenced accordingly, never to be seen again. These streets, whatever they were now, weren't the Lanes you grew up in. These weren't the streets you accepted as your home, those which you loved with your entire heart. Now, they smelled of feces and chemicals, just like the people walking the promenades. These fuckers were full of it. God, you hated everything that happened in the last fifteen years.

Whenever shit got too hard, you've found yourself here - standing at the same corner of the same street, with your hands in your pockets, trying not to cry as you watched the infamous pub. This was your fucking home; this building used to be your entire universe. For whatever it was worth, you and your friends grew up here - so many memories, some of which were bad and some of which were... Beautiful. As you scratched your nose and fought the urge to cry, you checked if the hood of your sweatshirt covered your face - you've been paranoid about people recognizing you. Sure, you weren't a little kid anymore (very few people would recognize you based on your appearance), but rumors and urban legends were still going strong. If you'd get into a physical fight, you wouldn't be able to just... Hold it in, as Vander instructed you to. Your secret would fly outta the window right then and there.

Embracing for what you were about to face, you turned your head back to the pub, specifically its door. You were personally acquainted with everyone who walked in and out. Each of the people you've known either by their name or by face... And just as you expected, none of them was sober. Everyone was under the influence of Shimmer, which was one of the many 'super cool and great' things Silco had introduced to the population. Identification marks were simple enough to detect - their pupils were unnaturally widened, their irises wildly violet, their veins black under their skin... Alongside, there was also muscle and weight loss, and incredible sleep deprivation. The people looked like former shells of themselves. A very poor imitation of an actual human being.

The drug appeared out of nowhere - one day, Vander was alive and the other, he was nowhere to be found, and Shimmer got distributed everywhere. From Upper Lanes to the depths of the Sump, everyone was encouraged to try it out. Back then, you had no clue about what was happening. You were just children when you watched Grayson and Benzo getting murdered. Nothing in your life made sense ever since.

Living in lanes was always hard. Back then, each day could be a struggle, mainly when things got messy with Pilties. On some days, you couldn't be sure if you'd live to see another dawn. But... You could be sure, no matter what, that there would always be a place where someone would help you. The community might've been poor, but it was self-sufficient, and the relationships were tight. A saying was going around in Zaun - once a family, forever a family. Once a traitor... Forever a traitor. It was eerily fitting. Zaun, ever since its inception, got caught in a never-ending cycle of poverty and danger. Well, that was what Pilties said about you and your people at least. In their eyes, you were all uneducated, unhygienic, non-working pieces of shit who were leeching off the great city of Piltover. In reality, even though it could be a struggle, Lanes weren't that bad. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't that horrible.

Piltoverians were the source of all the fucking problems, in anything - specifically the Enforcers. These scums of the Runeterra made it their priority to let you know how they felt about your community. They straightaway told you don't belong and that in their eyes, you were just piles of fucking trash. When you were a kid, the older kids and Laners ensured they paid the Pilties' hospitality back with the same passion. They went out of their way just to ruffle the Enforcers' feathers, to ruin their sunny fucking days. Sometimes, the Laners rioting got punished - depending on how fast they could run. Those who didn't have this courage tried to live by the book so they wouldn't get themselves and their loved ones into trouble. And those who were smart, well... They were smart enough to trade with the Pilties and get some bonuses for their 'respectful and exemplary' behavior (meaning 'eating Enforcers' fucking asses').

Pilties accepted anything the Laners offered - without the help of the locals, Enforcers wouldn't solve fucking shit, they'd be laughed at. If there was a punishment good enough for someone's offense, it wasn't even anything Pilties could do - the worst punishment was getting shunned by your community. Coming back from such a sentence was impossible in the Lanes. Laners offered many things to the Pilties, such as information, tips, free goods, or, let's say, offering the finest girls from their establishment for a considerable amount. The goods weren't treated for free, of course. In exchange, the Laners could expect to get small to full protection from the justice system. If they'd slip up, their crimes had a short statute of limitation, and if they were even punished... The punishments were fucking laughable.

As you winked, you lost your train of thought. Your eyes darted to the neon lights above the pub's entrance - the three familiar words sank into your heart, growing heavy in your chest. The Last Drop. Each time you've found yourself restless and uneasy, you'd come to commiserate to this place. As if he could come out of the door and comfort you. As if you could tell him all your trouble, hoping he'd know what to do. As if he could hug you one last time and tell you how much he loves you and how all you little nuisances make him proud.

Even though you spent your childhood there (a great portion of it anyway), you didn't remember a lot of things. You were happy kids, Vander made it his priority, so the feelings connected to your childhood were mostly positive. Nice, making you all warm and fuzzy inside. But there were a few of those that were vivid and riddled with clarity. When you felt the anxiety and rage eating you alive, this memory was always sure to bring you to your fucking knees. On that night, the holy trinity you dubbed them (consisting of Vander, Grayson, and Benzo) drank their asses off. Long after closing hours, the adults still sat at the small table in the corner, talking about everything and nothing. You and Powder were trying to sneak out; you and Little Man were meeting at the junkyard to search for ~cool stuff~. Back then, you didn't care about their drunken rambling; but now, as an adult, these words were keeping you afloat and haunting you at the same fucking time. Vander was staring into his pint, his eyes foggy with tears as he said this: - "Don't know how 'bout the two of you, but I know we don't have to be worried about Lanes when I die..." - The man sighed, having both Grayson and Benzo staring at him. - "We raised them well... Each of 'em. They'll look after our people long after we won't be here. And I'm sure they'll be able to change everything."

You strived to be the person Vander envisioned you to be - you were one of the few kids he raised who was somehow remaining alive. Vi? Dead. Powder? Long gone. Claggor? Dead. Mylo? Dead. Bee and Maya? Dead. Ekko? Tried living for the present, not dwelling in the past. Ekko and you talked about Vander from time to time, but it was clear Ekko made peace with the past. He accepted it and let it mold him, creating a better man. You? You tried following what Ekko was doing - but each time, the past found its way back to you. The one Firelight who got caught in the past, that's who you were. You wished you could adhere to Vander's wish. You wished you didn't fail Vander this bad. You wished...

This wasn't a place you could cry at. Too dangerous. Shaking your head, you looked around the place - everything looked the same. All the houses, food stalls, other pubs, questionable restaurants, and brothels... But everything had changed. The people, their manners, the atmosphere. Everything Vander worked so hard for, your culture, the community, and sense of home and belonging... That was erased over one night. After the Revolution that formed Lanes into the future nation of Zaun, Vander put his old boxing gloves down, left his old criminal career behind, and spent years creating a self-sufficient closed community - people took time to trust and return his favors, and the sense of home couldn't appear out of nowhere either. It needed to form, arise, and evolve over time. It took him almost five years. Now? Everything was fucked. In shambles. If he or Benzo could take one more look at the place, they wouldn't even recognize it, that was for sure. People came and went, their mentality switched, the self-sufficiency was exchanged for dependence on Piltover and Silco, and the tight bonds? Long gone and forgotten.

Who would you be if you stayed here? What would happen if you didn't take Little Man's hand and ran away? Would Silco let you live? Well, you were... Just a bunch of fucking kids, so no matter how evil Silco appeared, you didn't think he'd just murder you. On the other hand, you were Vander's kids - that would surely be a pain in Silco's ass. For this reason alone, on the day of Silco's takeover, you and Ekko ran the fastest you could in search of anything; that day, you left your old lives and selves behind, hoping you'd at least survive the takeover.

Now, fifteen years since everything went down, you were happy you ran away that morning. If you weren't two little children scared to death, therefore being able to squeeze into cracks and nooks others couldn't, you wouldn't see the following morning. And you wouldn't ever find... That place. Your new home. The place of which would the holy trinity be endlessly proud. It wasn't making you feel good to look at the Last Drop when it was in this state, but you needed a piece of the humble pie and getting a reality check every now and then. On days like these, you had fucking enough. Sometimes, all you and Ekko did was yell at each other, your discomposition getting the best of you. After everything was said and done, your head ached, each word he spat in your face was stuck inside your head. All the misunderstanding, confusion, and anger that might've come from all the right places made you temporary enemies. On days like those, you struggled to see each other eye-to-eye even though you both meant well. On those days, you wished to have a drink with the holy trinity so you could whine about how it's so fucking exhausting.

Kids could be fucking stupid at times, that was the exhausting and infuriating part. Thinking about it, you and Ekko were at it only thanks to the kids these days. Specifically, because they were being morons. The two of you argued about other things rarely nowadays. It was as if your hard work didn't mean fucking anything to them. As if they didn't care that if they said one wrong word in front of the wrong person, they'd endanger everyone. The elders, the adults, and even the newborns of the colony, the technological advancement, your homes, all your belongings... Everything you worked for in the last fifteen years would come in vain. Burned to the ground. Everyone would end with their throats slit. And yet, no matter how many times you explained it to the kids, no matter how much you yelled, how many very unpleasant punishments you came up with... They did it again... And again. As if they thought you're stupid, that your concern and fear meant nothing - that it's unjustified. It hurt. Being ignored was fucking painful.

Shaking your head again, this time letting out a long hum, you pushed your palms deeper into your pockets as you lowered your head for a moment. Saying goodbye to Vander, you turned on your heels and walked down the Promenade. As you stared at the tips of your boots splashing in mud and puddles, you thought about what you'd do once you found the two troublemakers. The question wasn't 'if you find them' but 'when you find them'. You were to absolutely lose your shit this time, weren't you? Each time you had to drag them back home, you waited with the yelling until you crossed the safe zone. This time, you highly doubted you'd have this much self-control; trouble was brewing in the Lanes, Enforcers were getting increasingly aggressive, and people were acting... Strange. Ignoring all the red flags, the two fucking idiots sneaked out to do what, anyway? Help with smuggling stolen fucking goods for a bit of coin. If the Enforcers caught a whiff of the duo... Jesus.

Why did the two always choose your patrols anyway? Why was it always you who found out that Almoner and Lorette snuck out in the night? You knew the answer, funnily enough. You weren't the one for punishing, Ekko took this position most of the time - no matter how upset you first got, you came down to your senses soon. You realized these two were just kids and didn't know better. If you even got to the actual 'punishment' part, it usually wouldn't last very long; you'd make them fill their duty a few times before dismissing them, hoping the kids learned their lesson (... they never fucking did, and neither did you, apparently). You wished you'd have Vander's balls of steel and patience, that you'd be able to watch the kids wash the toilets for a month without flinching; not even talking to them until they genuinely apologized. Yes, Vander's punishments could often come across as very cruel, but you certainly learned how to stay in lane and mind your own fucking business... And learned how to be smarter about doing everything Vander forbade you from doing (the old man certainly knew you were getting yourself into all kinds of trouble, but taught you to be careful the hard way). On top of it... Damn, you didn't have the balls to think about something that fucking cruel of punishment, let alone follow through with it.

Therefore this time, you wouldn't be taking care of it. You'd give them your usual speech about being reckless and stupid, but you'd leave coming up with the punishment to him. Ekko will come up with it and make sure they'll follow through. No 'we'll talk in the morning' this time, you'll simply drag the kids to him as soon as you get home. You covered their stupid fucking asses for long enough. You were done. You dragged them home long after sunset enough times to just stick your neck on the line as you usually did. As you said, you understood why they did it, but you couldn't just agree with it.

Honestly? At their age, you were exactly the same. There were more of you - nine, to be precise. Nine Zaunite kids who were always up to mischief, undermining the Piltoverian authority just to riot against the system. Sure, you, her, Ekko, Maya, and Bee were too little to truly understand what you've been doing, and you also were a bit clumsy with it, but you stuck with the older kids nonetheless. They were so great in your eyes, so cool that you had to follow their lead. They were your idols. Whenever asked who you wanted to be when grown up, 'Vi' was your first answer. Sometimes, the older kids took you out on their little secret sneak-ins into Piltover, trying to sell stuff you found lying around - or goods stolen from other Pilties. If the goods were good enough, you'd attempt to sell them to Benzo's; the moment you did, however, you could be sure Vander would go after your ass. Sometimes, you'd do a bit of cheap labor force for the Pilties for some luxurious food and a bit of coin. You'd be flipping the Enforcers off, stealing their gear, and damaging their vehicles just for fun. Until that day, you could recall disarming the ignition - Ekko showed you step by step. In reality, you were doing far worst shit than your kids ever do. All of you were supposed to be locked up at least a million times... Yet, there you were. The catch? Back then, as you also said, the Lanes were different.

Sheriff Grayson, the head of Piltoverian Enforcers back then, didn't want to have any of Zaun's starving, underfed children trying to get by in Stillwater prison. The prison had enough inmates as it was - no need to punish laughable, puny offenses. Vander and Benzo belonged to the group of the smart Zaunites. They knew how to make a deal with Grayson (who was narrowing her eyes a lot as it was even without the haggling) and a few months after she caught Mylo and Vi sneaking out for the first time, the three adults became friends... At least sort of. Vander and Benzo's authority also helped a lot with connecting with Grayson - Vander had created a name for himself in the Undercity, so he had to go by example and set good relationships with her.

Rest assured, even though you didn't ever get your prison sentencing (you stole a few precious pieces) or any public penalty carried out by the Enforcers, Vander's punishments and fury were plenty enough. Cleaning toilettes at the Last Drop for a month straight, helping the local butcher, or carrying crates for Benzo were just examples of the mild punishments you'd get for your mischief. Once, you got punished by having to serve drinks alongside Vander for two months straight - well, the punishment was indefinite until you'd approached the man with a genuine apology. The worst part about this particular punishment? Vander didn't talk to you until you got your shit together. The words he said before stopping chatting with you were: - "I'd say that if you're adult enough to be causing this much trouble out there, missy, you're also adult enough to sort it out inside your head and come apologize to me when you're ready."

That time, you really needed to be put back in your place. You deserved what you had coming, you realized that now. Back then? It felt horrible. The man still communicated within the boundaries of yes/no questions and still ensured you were okay, fed, and taken care of... But any small talk beyond that point? His famous jokes or stories? No bueno. Believe it or not, it worked. At first, you were sure Vander was just fucking with you; he'd let it go after two weeks, drop the antics and everything would be the same. Well, after the first month of the silent treatment, you started to realize how much you've actually hurt him. Vander believed you were the most responsible out of the kids and yet, May came back with her leg broken because you tried to steal a rifle off an Enfoncer. That was possibly the first day you've also seen Grayson furious. He wasn't mad at you... Vander was disappointed. It took some time to figure out how to approach the old man. Even though you imagined what you'd tell him a thousand times and wrote it on a piece of paper also, you still broke down in tears when you finally approached him with an apology. Vander listened to every word with a small smile, nodding as you went on with your thoughts and emotions. It nearly broke his heart when you asked if you could still call him dad. After you fell silent, done with the explanation, the old man hugged you, asking with pride in his voice... - "Y'all so damn stubborn, you kids. Was it so hard to figure stuff out? Come 'ere, duckling."

But... He was dead now. You couldn't ask him for advice anymore. Vander wasn't around to help out with this shit anymore, neither was Grayson. You watched her getting mauled by a Shimmer addict. The Enforcers you knew were pathetic swines. They couldn't be reasoned with, especially when you deemed yourself to be a radical rebellious society living aside from regular Zaunites. The dynamics changed over time, just as you said. If your kids would get caught, they would get their one-way ticket into Stillwater, no doubt in your mind. The ticket would be the better option, frankly - if shit would get serious, the Enforcers would surely be happy to organize a whole parade on the Promenade leading into public humiliation or... Hanging, if things would get very intense. Fuck, you huffed, Pilties pretended to be these upper-class fancy fuckers and still paraded Zaunites around as if this was old Shurima or something. Silco surely had his part in this, but Pilties were to blame one way or another.

Saying you didn't have any reputation was... Wrong. It was nothing compared to the rep Vander made for himself, but it was something. Ekko had his reputation with his mask on, you didn't need any costume to cause havoc and panic. That was the reason why you were still sneaking out for the kids - you knew you wouldn't get hurt. People changed but didn't forget or forgive and a lot of them remembered what you were capable of. The stories and rumors still circulated around, they were still being told as frightening examples to kids before they fell asleep.

You've heard it once when you ventured into the lanes. This kid was screaming and crying, tears streaming down its face. - 'If you won't be good,' - The mother said to her little kid, kneeling to them, - 'The Demon will come for you.' 'Who is that? What does it do?' - The kids whispered under their breath, their face slowly turning ashen pale. 'Burns people to ashe and shoves its palm into their chest so it can feast on their heart.' 'It's an old legend, Matilda.' - The child's father chimed in, furrowing at his partner. - 'Nobody has seen it for years. It's not even real, just a legend the Zaunites made it up to scare the regular folk... Like us.' 'Seven Enforcers found dead with holes in their chest, one burnt to ash. Still sounds like a story to you?'

So... The Demon, that's what they called you, huh? Eating people's hearts sure was a stretch, but if it worked... The problem with having this sort of reputation was your anonymity amidst it all - no one knew you were the Zaunite Demon. No one except Ekko - he was there when it happened on the day of Silco's takeover; when you killed the Enforcers just so you could escape. You didn't want to do it, but you were left with no other option. If you wouldn't let go and the Enforcers, you'd end up in the fucking orphanage or in prison. Your arcana was your last resource. To remind the people of the old stories, you had to let your arcana shine though... Which you weren't fond of. You hated being a spectacle, so you only used it in case of need. Taking a turn off the main promenade, you knew exactly where you needed to go. It wasn't more than a hunch, but since the kids were at this place both times you set out to search for them, the third time was the fucking charm. Butcher's old mansion; an old, broken down building at the scrims of Lanes. Its windows were plastered with old newspaper painted black and hammered with wooden planks. The plaster was knocked off the walls in a few places, the former glory of the manion past its prime. You've known Butcher ever since you found yourself at the Last Drop, he was one of the wallflowers that were a constant in your life. Someone who was always in the background but never stepped into the forefront. As far as you heard, he didn't establish a workshop with Silco, but he wasn't on the 'good' side either. Butcher remained morally grey, somewhere in the middle, not mingling with 'human' affairs.

This shady fucker used to do business with Vander regularly; however, when Vander figured Vi and the boys tried establishing a workshop with Butcher, he almost lost his shit. According to Vander, Butcher could be extremely dangerous when prompted to. One wrong word, one wrong deal, one unclear wish, or wrongly formed favor request, and your organs were harvested the following morning without your knowledge. To negotiate and cooperate with the Butcher, one had to be extremely intelligent, because... Butcher wasn't, in fact, human. You never learned what he was, but according to one of the books you stole, it was possible he could be a water demon. What you knew for sure, however, was the fact that Butcher was far from being humanoid. He reminded you of a mix between a catfish and a toad if anything; obese, wobbling around on two legs with a toad-like face, enormous slimy tongue, and sharp fangs showing each time he laughed. A fun fact? The Butcher always smelled like dead fucking fish.

As you stopped in the street leading to Butcher's mansion, there they fucking were - both the kids you were searching for. Just like the times before, the idiots were helping with carrying some shady iron boxes inside the mansion under the watch of Butcher's bodyguards. Lorette's blonde hair shone in the darkness of the street, making you breathe in and out a few times to calm your horses. The two fucking idiots always being at the same spot, doing the same shit for the same shady guy made your blood boil. Getting your emotions under control, ensuring the poison-green flames hadn't burnt through your sweatshirt, you finally started walking towards them. Almonder spotted you first. It felt like a deja vu of sorts - your gait was unchangeable with anyone else's thanks to the steel plates inside the tips of your boots. Your expression was identical each time, down to the twitch in your left eye and your palms were crushing, your knuckles changing color the stronger you squeezed. Almonder didn't flinch a bit this time, he simply stopped in his tracks and brought the box closer to his chest. Was he trying to set you off?

"Listen, Y/N, before you start yelling... We can explain." - The boy explained swiftly - just as he opened his mouth to continue with another sentence, you put one of your palms in the air to stop him. "Save your fucking explanation for someone interested in listening, you two. I honestly don't know if I'm more disappointed or furious." - Sighing, you made another step towards the boy, eyeing him up and down as you nodded at your inner train of thoughts. - "Didn't I make myself clear, huh? The last time, you promised this wouldn't happen again - and guess what? The funniest fucking thing happened. Mira comes running, confused and scared, telling me the two of you are gone... Again. I was just about to bring you kids some cocoa we traded for one of our hoverboards because I thought you finally understood when I told you you'll get yourselves fucking dead if you continue like this and..." - You were starting to say mumbo-jumbo at a fast pace as you did your best not to blow up, your breath shortened and you were starting to curse a lot. Lorette's eyes widened as she braced herself for the actual screaming; you were fucking horrifying when you tried to. Just as you were about to yell the first word out the mansion's old gnarly wooden door opened. The creaking freaked you out, calming you down a bit. Turning your face to the door, an enormous water demon appeared in the cranny, his golden eye eyeing you up and down.

"Ah!" - The demon exclaimed, huffing with his deep, growly voice. Everything about him gave you chills. - "It's you, Y/N! I was wondering when you're gonna show up." "... Was I that obvious?" - You asked, sighing. Butcher's presence made you take a long breath, digging your fingers into the skin on your hips just so you wouldn't lose your shit. You couldn't risk being perceived as a child - you were an adult who had people relying on them. Screaming would come off as childish and composure was important in moments like these. "Of course, you were, darling, but don't worry about it. Most mortals are. Come in, I want to have a chat with you. The two of you, come sit in the foyer." - The demon laughed, opening the door for you and the kids. Cringing at the pet name, you grinned and did as you were told - followed him inside the manor, walking the honorous stairs by his side. "Don't fucking call me that again." - You reiterated, trying to lift the tension. It worked since you both cracked, snickering at the way you said the sentence.

Butcher kindly invited you into his office. You needed to admit you liked the room - it was filled with lavish wooden furniture, luxurious small details and decoration, and wood crackling in the fireplace. The room smelled nice, of jasmine and burnt wood, and it was almost nice when you ignored the stench of dead fish. Without asking you a single word, Butcher started pouring a shot of spirits for both of you, sitting in an enormous satin-covered chair beside the fireplace, pointing at the one beside him. The other chair was way smaller, for humans, you concluded. Even though you accepted the fancy shot glass, you didn't sit down.

"Whatever the kids promised to do for you, it's my responsibility. They are in no position to make deals and have commitments." - Looking over at Butcher, you didn't kick the glass in until he'd do so first. That would be rude as fuck. - "Just tell me they didn't sign a contract, would hate to see their organs getting harvested by your people or you draining their souls because they didn't read the amendment." "Harvesting organs... Draining the souls?" - Butcher's voice thundered before he threw a fit of laughter. - "That's what Vander duped you into believing?" "Isn't that what you water demons do? Taking advantage of stupid people? Because these two surely are stupid." "You got me there, girl. And, these kids of yours are naïve, not stupid... There's a difference. You grow out of being naïve, however, there's nothing you can do about being a stupid fool. Sláinte!" - Butcher explained, finally clicking his glass with yours - whatever the fucking alcohol was, it burned like a living fuck. Without hesitation, Butcher started pouring another one.

"Rest assured, your kids haven't struck any deal with me. Even if they did, I'd do my best to honor fair conditions and not spin their words around as I tend to." - He rambled on, giving you your glass back. Humming, you swirled the alcohol around, raising your eyebrows in anticipation. - "I might be a dishonest creature, but I'm honorable. When it comes to your kids, don't be alarmed. I won't... Drain their souls or whatever." "What makes you say that, though? Why are you so kind? Do you want... Something in return? You don't owe me anything. I mean, I'm grateful but confused."

"None of what you listen. I won't sink to doing my usual tricks because you are Vander's kids." - Butcher explained as if it couldn't be simpler. This sentiment made you sit down with tears in your eyes, covering your mouth. Vander to the fucking rescue... Fucking again. "Funnily enough, Vander made sure we won't be striking any deals with you. Made sure we'll stay as far as physically possible... Seems like you aren't that bad of a guy after all." "Your words compliment me, Y/N, however don't twist my words as being merciful or kind. We are not allies nor enemies, we merely exist in the same plane of consciousness. Let me put it like this, child. Vander was smart... Too smart for his own good. But in my world, honor is honor, and a deal is a deal." - With that, you both kicked the second shot, letting Butcher pour another one. If you understood correctly, it meant Vander struck a deal with Butcher regarding 'his' kids. And even though Vander was dead, Butcher still recognized the deal as valid. What could the deal revolve around? You wouldn't ever get to know, but it interested you nonetheless.

"Speaking of our late comrade... Feels like it's starting all over again." - The demon sighed, looking you in the eye. He didn't wait to explain, because his speech pattern was giving you a run for your money. - "I've lived thousands of years, thousands of lives, and yet, it all feels like a cycle. The kids remind me of you and all your little friends, you remind me of Vander and the others who kept you alive. 'Round and round it goes, don't you think?" "We weren't this reckless." "Did I hear correctly, girl?" - The demon cackled, leaning closer to you. The cold coming from his body gave you goosebumps, the scales appeared to be slimy. Ew. Holy shit. Butcher was giving you the chills. - "Did you just say you kids weren't as naïve and reckless? Funnily enough, I don't think we ever talked 'till this day. I know who you are and you know what I am, but our paths never collided - but I remember everything. My oh my, how resilient you all were; each time she'd drag you back to Vander, you'd try to wiggle out like little worms, run away just so you'd escape the punishment for ten minutes longer. Every time, the old man would slap your wrists and give you a talk because he was the only one you little nuisances respected 'round here. Now, the cycle starts anew. I'm their Benzo, you're their Grayson and he's... Well, he's their Vander."

"I'd agree... If the kids had an ounce of fucking respect for us. If there was any respect, these idiots wouldn't be helping you smuggle whatever it is you're buying off the black market. Pour me another one, please." - Kicking in a third shot, you forced your glass back into his palm. The demon furrowed ever so slightly but complied with your request. He didn't have to say it aloud, but you wouldn't see a fifth shot - which was fair. Especially given you didn't even fucking know what you were pouring down your throat. "I hate to break it to you, child, but... Do you really believe you brats had an ounce of respect for any of your elders? Now, looking back at it with perspective, you probably do - these adults taught you everything you needed to know." - The demon mumbled, giving you your glass back. - "They taught you to have respect and in return, they asked for your trust. You got there, eventually. But... It wasn't always this way, was it? How do you think Vander felt each time Grayson dragged you into the pub every other day? Do you imagine he was happy to have a bunch of troublemakers on his hands to deal with? Do you think he expected you to immediately understand his cause and the cogs turning behind the scenes? Do you not understand how many people you endangered each time? With each act of rebellion you put the entire Zaun at stake, don't you see it? Rest assured you and the kids are one and the same, but that's your thought to grasp, youngling."

That slimy son of a bitch was right, you realized as you poured the last shot down your throat - if you were this enraged, how in the fuck did Vander feel? On top of it, you only had two problematic teens to chase around the Lanes - Vander had ten of you at least, possibly even more since he cared for everyone. He had to deal with his own kids, their friends, and their friends' friends. And he dealt with all that while being a good dad. Wow. That had to be a superpower. Honestly, looking over at the demon by your side, you had to say some weight was lifted off your chest. It probably wasn't the talk you wished to have with Vander, but it brought some self-reflection and clarity. Butcher warned you; he wasn't your ally but neither your enemy and yet, you felt grateful. "However, there's one thing I'd like to add. I might not be great at understanding humans... I never tried to be, I'm not interested in mingling with human affairs. What I can say, however, is that you're doing well. Your kids don't starve, they have no need to search for a creature like me to grant their wishes. Both of you are doing well."

"How..." - You whispered, looking up to him once again. His words were bringing you to tears. You needed this so bad. Coming from a sea demon was the last place where you'd expect words of encouragement and wisdom, but you were glad for them nonetheless. - "How do you even know about us? 'bout the colony?" "I know everything, mortal." - Butcher explained simply, lighting up an enormous cigar to munch on. You didn't need to ask no more. You trusted him. With that, you picked yourself off the chair. "Thanks, Butcher. I mean, thank you for giving me the reality check, I really fucking needed it. Also, thanks for... Honoring your word to Vander. He'd be glad to hear it." - You explained, giving him the shot glass back as you stood up, looking down at the demon. "I'd be grateful if your kids were willing to help me - these goods aren't stolen and I'd look after them in case our Marcus, that fool, tried digging around in business that doesn't concern him. Only with your permission, that is." "I'll give it a thought, promise. Need to teach them a lesson now, however." "I know, I know. Fare well, Y/N." "I'll see you around, Butcher."

Thankfully, the chat with Butcher was enough to calm you down. You didn't feel the need to scream your lungs out when you picked up the clown duo sitting idly in the foyer, your way back to the colony was actually pretty calm. You started to understand Vander's silent treatment; usually, you made sure the kids knew right off what ice they were on. The longer you stayed quiet, though, the less calm the kids were. They were lurching, looking you in the face with uncertainty. They were finally feeling guilty, you reckoned and put your hood lower into your face and let the kids fry for a bit longer.

The moment it all complicated was when you reached the entrance to the sewers - the complication being four Shimmer addicts hanging around it... And the fifth one lurking in the backstreet. If you could, you'd take a different route - but funnily enough, the only 'normal' entrance to your colony led precisely through these sewers. The closer you got to the entrance, the more obvious it became the addicts were surrounding you like prey. At that point, Lorette was clinging onto Almonder's palm, crying silently - Almonder was trying to stay calm, but his expression was rather stoic. You appreciated his dedication to staying cool, though; it made you sure in your tracks as well.

The kids needn't be worried. If the men even looked at them funny, you'd make sure to break every fucking bone in their body, maybe burned a hole through their chests if they'd get you going enough. The kids wouldn't get in harm's way, only over your dead fucking body.

"Woah boys, look who we got here." - One of the men, a tall and well-built one walked closer to you. He wasn't an absolute wreck yet, he appeared very young; Shimmer was sure to fuck him soon enough. Soon, he won't be able to stay on his feet without huffing that shit. - "Such a pretty young girl... Don't think I've seen you around, lovely. Are these your kids?" "Don't think so." - Another addict stepped out of formation, attempting to sniff a lock of Loretta's hair. The moment he picked his disgusting palm to touch her, your hand flew out to stop him. Your breath was picking up, the inner flame starting to set you ablaze - your skin was covered in little metal particles, starting to harden. If you wouldn't get your cool under control, you'd have shit to explain to the younglings. The iron grip, thankfully, was enough for the addict to step away from Lorette. - "... Or maybe, I was mistaken. Mamma hen and her chicks." - He added with a mocking grin.

The well-built addict caught your chin between his fingers, making you look at him. Stretching out your other hand, you motioned for the kids to step closer to you until you felt Almonder's forearm in your palm. He was shaking. To reassure him, you gave his forearm a firm squeeze. You've never failed your kids - no way you'd fail them now. "Get your fucking hand off me." - Was all you said, smiling sweetly at the addict. In addition to your words, you stepped even closer. Your actions sure as fuck confused him. - "... You don't wanna do this, pretty boy... Trust me."

"I won't do anything... If you're willing to pay, lovely. With either money or.." - The guy smiled, looking over to Lorette. Most people would freak in this situation, but the kids didn't flinch. They didn't scream or run away, they stayed put. They trusted you. And you were looking awfully bored. "Keep your eyes on me, handsome, she has nothing to do with this. It's just between you and me." "So you'd..." "Let me put it like this." - You whispered, moving even closer. Your chests were now almost touching, bumping into one another when you breathed. - "Haven't fucked anyone up in a long time, but I'd sure enjoy making you squirm like the pig you are. Then, I'd break each limb you possess, and don't worry, I wouldn't leave your four friends out of it either. You guys could have tons of fun licking your wounds for a few months, not being able to move, lying in your own fucking shit and piss."

The man stared at you for a bit, watching the corners of your mouth slowly turn upward. You were insane, had to be; there were five young, relatively healthy men around you ready to fuck you up... And you didn't flinch. Were you fucking stupid? As he turned to look at you to ask if you were stupid, something stopped him. It was your eyes - the color of your irises, to be precise. It wasn't human. It was a very bright, poison-like green and he'd swear it was burning into his brain. Given your skin could literally turn into metal, the color and your confidence... Openly asking him to attack you... The moment his brain connected the two dots was the second he stepped away. - "Tell your buddies to let us go and I'll forget this ever happened." "Let... Let them go. It's fine, guys, fuck, they're cool." - The guy nodded frantically, stepping even further aside. Without waiting around for too long, you pushed the children in front of you so you could be sure they were getting out of the situation first. As you calmed down, you could feel the warmth traveling back to your hands, letting the skin take over once more. The kids didn't understand, but they didn't ask either; they were too scared to even look over their shoulders at you.

That slimy fucker was right... It all felt like rewinding the time in a sense.

[cocobeanncteez]

Ateez Hongjoong: Tame (Final Part)

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, mafia au.

Pairing: Mafia!Hongjoong x OC (written in 2nd person)

Word Count: 17k in total, 2.2k in this part. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Warnings for all parts combined: Mafia themes such as torture, abuse, violence, human auctions, murder, drugs, guns. Mentions of rape, human trafficking, sex slavery, organ trafficking, unprotected sex, pulling out, facesitting.

“What are you guys up to?” you questioned, plopping down on the couch beside Wooyoung. Yunho, Jongho, and San were seated on the opposite couch.

“Just talking about one of our hostages who we will kill tonight,” Yunho replied while playing with a rubik's cube.

“What did they do?” you asked.

“He tried to sabotage our latest drug deal with a secret dealer from Russia. We didn’t know how he found out about it, but he spilled the beans on his gang,” San answered. “So we don’t need him anymore.”

“Well… rest in peace, I guess,” you remarked, making Wooyoung snort.

“Would’ve been better if we killed Yang Daeyoung instead.”

You turned to look at him. “Who exactly is he? I’ve heard his name a few times, but I’ve never gotten the opportunity to ask.”

Jongho gently cleared his throat. “He’s the man who raped and murdered Hongjoong’s sister. Him and three of his men. He wasn’t from a very powerful gang or anything, but he does his work extremely well. He wanted to take us down, and he used Hongjoong’s sister as bait to trap him. Hongjoong refused to give up on Ateez. By the time we managed to track Hongjoong, the damage was already done.” You felt your heart break; you couldn’t even imagine what your boyfriend had to go through.

“Where is Yang Daeyoung now?” you asked.

“Rotting in our torture chamber as we speak.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What?! Why haven’t you killed him yet?”

“We are looking for his child,” Hongjoong replied, joining the conversation. “The man has over five trillion won kept in a secret bank account. He also has information, good and bad, on every mafia gang and the corrupted politicians and locals involved. That’s why all gangs are still on the lookout for him even though we captured him eight months ago. He has a secret place somewhere in the world and only his child can access his possessions as he used iris pattern recognition. He has covered up everything though. We can’t find shit on any of his family members.”

“No amount of threatening or torturing works on him. We even told him that we’ll find his child and torture them,” Jongho added. “But he won’t reveal anything to us.”

“Maybe I can try?” you suggested. You did learn how to torture someone for information, but it wasn’t something you really enjoyed.

“Your chances are extremely low,” Wooyoung remarked.

“I’m aware of that. But even a little information could be helpful, right?”

“Go ahead then, sweetheart,” Hongjoong said with a smirk. “I’d love to see my girl torture that filthy bastard.”

You pecked his lips. “Then let’s go now, shall we?”

You made your way to the torture room, Hongjoong, Jongho, and Wooyoung following you. Seonghwa joined you after finishing his work in the interrogation room, satisfied with how much information he was able to obtain. Jongho entered a passcode for one of the rooms, letting everyone inside.

The room was pretty dark and looked like a jail cell. You saw a plate of untouched food on the floor. There was a chair in the middle of the room and a cot at the end of the room where Yang Daeyoung was sleeping, his back facing you all, long chains attached from his hands to a pipe.

Wooyoung moved to the sleeping form, giving the man a kick on his back to wake him up. “Get up, fucker.”

Yang Daeyoung groaned in pain before sitting up, looking at the faces of everyone in the room. As soon as you made eye contact with the man, your heart dropped to your stomach.

His eyes widened. “Kiah?! What are you doing here?!”

The boys immediately turned to look at you. You weren’t able to utter a word due to how shocked you were at seeing your own father there. His hair was quite long and he had a long beard and moustache. There were a few scars on his face and arms.

“How do you know her?” Hongjoong interrogated.

“Run from here, Kiah! They’re gonna kill you,” your father yelled at you.

“Do you know him?” Seonghwa asked you, but you weren’t able to answer. You felt sick. You felt terribly sick that it was your father who raped and murdered your lover's sister.

Tears rolled down your eyes when you glanced at your boyfriend. How could you ever face him now?

“Kiah!” your father yelled, tugging hard on the chains, grabbing your attention. “Get out of here! They’re gonna torture you in front my eyes! They said they will find you and torture you!”

Hongjoong looked at you with an emotionless expression, finally understanding the situation. “You’re his daughter?” You couldn’t respond.

“Are you this bastard's daughter?!” he yelled at you. Before you could answer him, he rushed out of the room. You couldn’t help but cry, burying your face in your hands, feeling your heart ache.

Your father glared at you angrily. “Why are you involved with Ateez?! What is wrong with—"

“Shut up!” you shouted, cutting him off. “You’re fucking pathetic! How could you r-rape someone when you have a daughter?! How could you lie to me all these years that you’re a cop, when you’re nothing but a heartless monster!” you sobbed loudly, collapsing onto the floor. You felt someone kneel beside you, wrapping their arms around you.

“Get away from her, Park Seonghwa!” your father spat.

Seonghwa turned to glare at him. “Shut it,” he said, before helping you stand up, taking you to your room.

You blankly stared at the window of your room from your bed, watching the horizon darker as night was approaching. It has been four days since you last saw Hongjoong. You felt nothing but emptiness and agony. You didn’t know if he was at the mansion or if he went somewhere as you haven’t left your room at all ever since Seonghwa brought you to it. The girls tried to make you eat, but you barely had the appetite to.

You sighed, forcing yourself to get out of bed to take a shower even though you were going to crawl right back into it.

Stripping out of your clothes and entering the shower, you pushed the tap, letting the warm water soak you. Closing your eyes, you could feel a dull ache in your chest when you began to think of Hongjoong. A sob got stuck in your throat, but escaped a few seconds later. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You sat down, hugging your propped up knees. Your sobs got louder, and your throat was aching, tears mixing with the water running down your face.

After spending a few minutes crying until you couldn’t anymore, you finally washed your body and your hair.

Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped a towel around your body and another one for your hair. You exited the bathroom after putting some clothes on, having no strength to dry your hair with a blow-dryer. You stopped in your tracks when you noticed a figure seated on your bed.

“I'm sorry…” Hongjoong apologized, getting off your bed and moving towards you. He stood in front of you with a pained expression on his beautiful face. You wondered how long he was waiting for you and you really hoped he didn’t hear you cry. Even if he didn’t, he could still tell you were crying as your red, puffy eyes gave it away.

“F-For what?” you stuttered, voice shaky.

Hongjoong sighed, looking down at his feet.  “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I shouldn’t have left you alone when you were going through much worse. It was a shock for you too…”

Your eyes filled with tears. “I understand why you did it. It’s okay…”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not okay, baby. I’m ashamed of how I acted. You didn’t deserve that.”

You blinked, causing the tears brimming at your eyes to slide down your cheeks. Hongjoong reached up to cup your cheeks, gently wiping your tears away with his thumbs. He placed a gentle, lingering kiss on your forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head in his hold. You pulled away from him, taking a deep breath. “Hongjoong, I-I think it’s best if we end things.” His eyes widened, heart aching due to your words. He opened his mouth to say something, but you spoke before he could. “I’m the daughter of the man who raped and murdered your sister, Hongjoong. I-I can’t…” you paused, sobs taking over. “I can’t live with that fact. I can’t look at you without thinking about it.”

“I don’t care, Kiah,” he reached out to hold your hands, his own eyes filling with tears. “I love you. Do you understand? I fucking love you. Yes, I was furious when I found out that you were the daughter of that bastard, but you shouldn’t have to suffer because of him. You didn’t even know what he does for a living. It’s not your problem.”

You sniffled. “You don’t h-hate me?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Baby…” he sighed, pulling you into a hug, his own tears rolling down his beautiful face. “I could never hate you. Never. You’re the love of my life. Fuck, I can’t even live without you. These past four days… I felt like I was gonna go insane if I didn’t see you, but I had to give you some space.” You didn’t know what to say.

“There's no me without you,” he continued, gently pushing you away so that he could see your face. “So please… never try to break up with me again. I’d rather die than live without you,” he cried. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest while you both cried together. Hongjoong placed soft kisses onto your head, trying to calm himself and you down.

When your sobs stopped, he gently pushed you away so that he could look at your face. He cupped your cheek, titling your head back before he leaned in, capturing your lips with his own in a soft kiss.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against you. “I love you,” he murmured.

You smile slightly. “I love you more.”

Epilogue

 “Oh my god! We’re finally here!” Jiwoo squealed, running on the cooling sand. Ateez managed to find out the location of your father's secret hideout in Fiji with the help of Yeosang who used your iris pattern to track the computer. Ateez managed to receive all your father’s possessions and now you all had flown across Fiji for a mini vacation.

“Jiwoo's dream destination is Fiji and now we’re here,” San said, watching his girlfriend with love and adoration. You chuckled, watching San run after Jiwoo to join her little hyper session.

“We’re gonna go rest for a while,” Seonghwa stated, holding Aeji's hand.

Wooyoung smirked. “I know what that means,” he said, earning a smack on his head from the older man before the couple went to their beach house in the chain of houses.

Hongjoong took your hand in his, intertwining it. “We’re gonna rest too. See you all for dinner,” he said, dragging you along to your little beach house.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, sandals leaving prints on the sand, observing the various hues of orange, red, blue, and purple in the beautiful sky as the sun was setting. Hongjoong let go of your hand when you reached your beach house, pausing in his tracks. You gave him a questioning look, wondering why he wasn’t going inside.

He cleared his throat, moving his hands to wrap around your waist. “You’re the only one who could tame my temper, as the boys always say," he started, making you giggle. “The only one who could make my heart beat so fast. I’ve never wanted anything more in life than to be with you. You aren’t just my girlfriend, you’re my best friend and the love of my life. But now I’d like to change that,” he reached into his pocket, taking out a small velvet box.

Hongjoong got down on one knee, and you gasped, realizing what was about to happen. “I’d like to be upgraded from your boyfriend to your fiancé.” You chuckle at that and he opened the box, revealing a beautiful oval-shaped diamond ring.

“Moon Kiah, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“Yes!” you squealed, face beaming with happiness. Hongjoong took your hand in his, sliding the ring onto your finger. He got up and you pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. When you pulled away, he grinned before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you. Thank you for bringing light to my life.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love you too, Joong. So much.” Hongjoong chuckled, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

You couldn’t wait for this new chapter in your life, spending it with Hongjoong by your side for the rest of eternity.

[xsixxx]

Bad Influence, Chapter Eight

Authors note: Hiya guys, it's been a while 🤙🏻 Sorry for the wait, I've had a rough few weeks, so I took a break from a lot of stuff, Tumblr included, but I'm back & I've been working on this chapter piece by piece. It was originally supposed to be longer but I've decided to split it into two separate chapters, which means at least the first part of ch.9 is written!

Thank you all for baring with me, I'm sorry for the wait!

So on with the goddamn show 🤟🏻

Warnings: Language, sexual tension, love triangle awkwardness, Beth being a super slut, loads of angst

Tags: @triplehaitches @freddiessmallnipples @queen-crue @scarecrowmax @lovesick-heart0 @littlesunnymoon @80sheart-strings @cranberribread @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @deaconsroger @zoenicoles @crazysaladchopshop @ggorehorror @lunamadhatter99 @justtryingtoovercome @chaoticvybe @you-know-im-a-dreamer @eightiesrockbaby @valentines-in-london @xrosegoldwolfx @fupatroopaa @lilypetite88 @this-blog-must-be-the-place @ashleecrue @lauravic @dark-princess99 @unknownoblivion @mgkobsessed @antheasnow

(I've given up trying to find matching GIFs for the chapter so here's one of Erin Moriarty who is legit Beth in my head)

*Beths POV*

I rolled out of my bed, pulling on a tshirt & yawning as I went. I glanced across at the naked rockstar, asleep in my bed, which had become quite a common occurrence since the KISS tour ended for Mötley.

Vinces blonde hair lay feathered around his sleeping features & I couldn’t help that girlish feeling of excitement & smugness in my stomach as it struck me, as it does every morning that I wake up next to Vince, that this beautiful man that women threw themselves at, wanted to be sharing my bed.

I smirked to myself as I slipped silently out of the room & made my way into the kitchen.

“Coffee?” Came the always chirpy voice of Tommy, who was grinning ear to ear as he stood in just his boxers in the midddle of the kitchen, changing the filter in the coffee machine. I eyed him up & down, trying to muffle my giggle at the sight of his long chicken legs in all their glory.

“Please.” I mused back to him, smiling.

“Good night?” He winked, catching sight of my yawn as I draped myself lazily against the wall.

"Probably about as good as yours from the sounds of it," I sniggered, "I thought we were having a competition at one point!"

Tommy let out a loud, hearty laugh that immediately made me giggle. His happiness was infectious.

He poured out the coffee into two mugs before sliding me a sly smile as he opened up one of the cupboards & produced a bottle of whiskey. "Fancy making it Irish?" He chuckled.

"Tommy, it's like 10am!" I laughed, shaking my head at him.

"So?! It'll get us in the mood for tonight! You're still coming, right?" He asked as he poured way more than a shot into each of the coffee mugs & handed one to me. I rolled my eyes at his offer of corruption, but my smile betrayed my & I took it from him, more than willingly.

"Of course, you really think Vince would let me miss it?!" I snorted, taking a sip of what was, let's face it, 1/3 whiskey with a coffee mixer. I tried my hardest to keep a straight face as the alcohol hit the back of my throat & immediately warmed my chest, chasing away any remnants of lathergy I might've had. "He's desperate to show off for me, it's been so long since I've seen you guys play!"

"He won't be the only one up there showing off for you." Tommy said, smirking behind his mug as he took an impressive gulp without so much as a blink.

I feigned innocence. "What, are you gonna twirl around your little sticks to try & impress me, T-Bone?" I winked, sticking out my tongue cheekily as he playfully nudge my shoulder, his laughter ringing around the kitchen once again.

"You wish girly," he sniggered. "You know who I'm talking about."

I pretended to rub my chin thoughtfully. "I didn't know Mick had a thing for me.."

Tommy let out another infectious laugh that instantly had me giggling along with me.

"So," he started as we both composed ourselves & I took another sip of my drink "Does Vince know what you & Nikki have been up to then then?" Tommy winked.

I nearly choked on my mouthful of whisky as I clamped my hand over Tommys mouth, peering out of the kitchen door to check we weren't in danger of being heard.

I removed my hand from Tommys mouth to reveal a grin behind it. "So it is true!"

"What, n-no!" I stumbled, knowing I wasn't fooling him, not even close. I relented, sighing as I did. "Goddamn it Sixx, can't keep his mouth shut.."

"Oh, Sixx didn't tell me." He smirked, "I see how you guys act, it's not hard to put the pieces together, you hate each other a little too much." He laughed, his grin growing wider. "I'm kinda surprised Vinny hasn't figured it out yet either.."

I scoffed. "If Vince ever noticed anything other than pussy or his fucking hair, then hell must be freezing over."

"Babe, if hell is freezing over, it's only because you've been warming the devil's bed." Tommy winked again, chuckling darkly as I took a swipe at his arm.

"Ok, well A," I started, as my hand caught him just below his shoulder sharply, wiping that grin off if his face. "I am not sleeping with Nikki! We kissed once! And B, how do you know I call him the devil?!" I asked sheepishly, my face flushing red with embarrassment.

Tommys mouth grew wide again as he rubbed his arm where I'd hit him. "Oh Sixx loves that shit, he brags about it all the time to us!" Sniggered T-Bone, before noticing my face & visibly grimacing. "I said too much again, didnt I? Beth, I'm sorry! He doesn't take the piss or anything," he rushed, stumbling over his words, "you just know him, that sorta shit builds up his ego, calling him the Devil is probably the biggest compliment you could give that twisted fucker!"

I groaned aloud as I downed the last of my whiskey with one swift gulp, hoping it might chase away my memory of the last 5 minutes.

"I can't believe you know!" I moaned, hanging my head.

"I can't believe you thought you guys were being subtle!"

"T-Bone, you gotta keep this to yourself ok? I like how things are with me & Vince right now, we're having fun & I kinda wanna keep it that way. And, for the love of God, don't tell Sophia. I can't be dealing with her disapproval on top of my dad's & my sister's right now." I finished, shaking my head. Tommy looked at me with that cute, dopey look that instinctively made me feel warm & trusting.

"I promise, I won't." He smiled affectionately. I could tell he meant it.

*Later*

*Nikkis POV*

I winked as I approached the gaggle of girls hanging around the door that lead to the backstage of the Whisky.

“Nikki, look for me in the front row.”

“Hey Nikki, cant wait to see the show tonight.”

“What are you doing afterwards Sixx?”

It was always the same. The girls always sounded the same, saying the same things, hoping to be the one to grab my attention that night. They were all starting to look the same too. The same hair, the same tight dresses, the same fake smile plastered on the same forgettable face.

Didn’t matter to me though. I fucking loved it.

I stopped next to them, leaning against the wall & flashing the arrogant smirk that never failed & I watched as they fell to pieces in front of me.

“So, what are you girls hanging around back here for?” I asked, making them giggle.

They babbled away, doing their best to impress me with their answers as I shut off, letting my eyes & my mind wander. I was halfway done mentally undressing them when a soft, flirty voice cut through the noise of the groupies.

“Hey rockstar, what’s a girl gotta do to get backstage?”

I turned my head, my eyes meeting with Beths before they trailed down every goddamn inch of her fine self. She was dressed in an oversized Led Zeppelin tshirt, tucked into a high waisted black denim mini skirt & white sneakers. She definitely wasn't like all the rest.

“Just show up looking like that, angel.” I smirked, not able to stop my eyes tracing her every curve. I strode towards Beth, leaving the wannabe groupies behind me without another word or thought, took her hand & lead her through the door.

“So when’s our next therapy session, Doc?” I mumbled, wrapping my arm around Beths waist, pulling her close as we walked.

Beth let out a forced laugh, wriggling away from me & glancing around quickly, checking we were alone. “Nikki, that night was purely for research purposes, we are not making that sharing circle a regular thing.” She said, her eyes darting around, looking anywhere but at me

“How about we just make the last part of our session a regular thing then?” I mumbled, placing my hands on her hips & pulling her into me once again, leaning my face towards hers, closing the gap between our lips.

Beth took a sharp step back & finally allowed her eyes to meet mine, a look on her face somewhere between panicked & scornful.

“What’s the matter, angel? Worried your boyfriend is going to see us?” I mocked, brashly reaching for her hand, but she snatched it away.

“Yes.” She snapped, before checking herself, blushing pink. “I mean, not that I think Vince is my boyfriend.. Obviously.” She stuttered as I let out an offhand chuckle.

“I should hope not.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?!” Beth retorted, her whole body suddenly stiff & defensive.

“Calm down doll, I only meant that Vinny ain’t the dating kind, I don’t want you getting you hopes up.” I shrugged.

“I’m not one of those girl out there you know,” she gestured towards the door that lead to the faceless groupies. “I don’t crave this bands attention & I don’t need it. Maybe its me that wouldn’t date Vince, ever thought of that?!”

I raised my hands in surrender to her over-sensitive tirade. “That’s all good then, because Vince definitely isn’t gonna date you darlin’, so don’t get used to your sleepovers." I replied, a little too harshly as I let my jealousy seep into my words.

Beths face went dark & her usually soft features looked twisted & angry.

"What's with you tonight, I didn't realise it was possible for you be more of an asshole than normal." She barked.

"And I didn't realise it was possible for you to be more of a stuck up bitch, but I guess people can suprise you." I hurled back, irritated by her defensive attitude.

"Real fucking nice Sixx, thanks. And just when I was starting to think you weren't all bad after the other night.."

"Oh, so you do remember the other night?" I cut in sharply. "Because here's me thinking it must've all been in my head being as you've been doing everything in your power to avoid me since then & pretend like it didn't happen."

"Oh grow up Nikki, I haven't been avoiding you. I've been working & hanging out with Vince, I'm sorry I haven't had much chance to stroke your fucking ego for you."

"I could probably free up some of your time if I went & told Vince that little promise you made me the other night. What was it again? Something about making me kneel before you'?" I laughed smugly as Beth's eyes flashed with fury.

"Christ, you just can't stand the idea of someone turning you down, can you?"

I let out a dumbfounded laugh at her bold pretension. "Remind me Beth, when did you turn me down?. Was that before or after you asked me to kiss you? Or maybe when you were up on the kitchen counter, moaning into my mouth." I asked snidely.

She glowered at me. "What part of me still sleeping with Vince & refusing to kiss you just now makes you think that I'm interested in you?"

I was beginning grow infuriated with her condescension, how could she just pretend like the other night didn't mean shit? "Tell me, is Vince really that good in the sack?"

"And what's that got to do with anything?" Beth fired back, irritated.

"Must be a good fuck if you're willing to get attached to someone who's gonna drop you any day now." I shrugged, pretending I couldn't care less.

“So that's the plan, he gets bored of me & then what Nikki? I move on to you? You get to sleep with me & ‘fufil my dark fantasies’, twist me into someone as fucked up as you so you feel a little less alone?” She spat venomously, her voice cold & sharp, taking me by surprise. My body went rigid as I felt anger descend over me like a mist. Beths face flushed pale as mine turned red, but she remained stubborn, folding her arms across her chest defiantly.

“Fine, fuck off with Vince.” I seethed, my jaw clenched & my mind ablaze with the thought of Vinnys hands on her, touching her like I’d not been able to stop thinking about touching her since that night he first took her home. “He'll get bored of you soon enough, I know I already am.” I finished bluntly, fixing Beth with a stone cold glare before spinning around on my heels & marching towards the backstage door. I leaned through, deciding I’d pick the first one that looked at me.

A tall, slender brunette in a tight red dress with fake tits & that usual fake smile glanced round, her eyes brimming with excitement when she spotted me.

“It’s your lucky day darlin.” I cooed, taking her by the hand & pulling her through the doorway & away from her fake ass friends. Probably for the best, they’d all hate her now anyway.

I turned back to face Beth, smug smile at the ready, trying to think up a shit-eating remark to say as I walked past her, but she'd already disappeared.

Fuck.

"So rockstar, where's your dressing room?" The brunette asked, her fingers finding their way under my shirt to my chest as she draped herself seductively around my arm.

I looked at her with uninterested eyes, my mind still entirely too focused on Beth.

I guess I could use the distraction, I thought, taking the brunettes hand & leading her down the hall & into the dressing room, untying my leather pants as we went.

*Later*

“And where the fuck is Vince?!” I yelled at Mick & Tom, tapping my foot impatiently as we all waited to the side of the stage.

“Not sure,” Tommy lied, badly, “I’m sure he’ll be here in a sec.”

“Pretty sure he’s in the toilet.” Mick mumbled, without looking up from tuning his guitar. Tommy nudged him nervously, but Mick just grunted, flicking him the middle finger without a glance.

I watched from the sidelines as Beth & Vince emerged from the toilet together, giggling like goddamn school kids. White hot jealousy burned through me, flooding my veins as saw them, hand-in-hand, disheveled hair & satisfied smiles plastered on their smug faces.

"Nice of you to fucking join us." I spat as they strolled over to us at their own pace, still laughing.

"Oh come on Nikki, we ain't due to go in for another 15 minutes, chill out man." Vince shrugged unconcerned, fueling my outrage with his nonchalance.

"You might care more about getting your fucking dick wet than you do this band Vince, but this shit actually matters to the rest of us, so either change your attitude or you can get the fuck out." I seethed, my eyes flitting dangerously to Beth, who had taken a cautious step back from me.

"Sixx man, come on," Tommy said, gripping my shoulder, trying to diffuse the situation. "it's not a big deal, we don't need this shit before the show."

I took a steady breath, trying to regain control over my temper. "Just go & change before you make us any later," I hissed at Vince through gritted teeth.

Beth lingered awkwardly as Vince waltzed off to the dressing room, unsure whether to follow him, stick around or simply leave. I decided to help her along with her decision.

"I think it's best you go." I said to her coldly, my bitter jealousy plainly obvious as I turned around & marched towards the back exit, desperate for a smoke.

"Nikki, wait-" Beth called out, following me outside into the cool night air.

"What do you want Lizzy?" I snapped, sparking up my cigarette & taking a long, deep inhale. "I've got nothing to say to you."

"I'm sorry-", she started, but I immediately interrupted.

"For what?! For fucking Vince & almost derailing my show?!”

Beths eyes narrowed. "I was going to apologise for what I said earlier, but yanno what, fuck you." She fired back, defensively. "Why would I be sorry for doing whatever the fuck I want with Vince, it's not like its any of your damn business."

"My fucking band, my fucking business sweetheart." I seethed, taking another long drag through my gritted teeth.

"No Nikki, just because they're in your goddamn band, doesn't make any of those guys in there your property, you don't get to lord over them like you own them." She replied, feeling brave.

"And what about you, huh? I fucking made you into this over confident little groupie & frankly, you're getting a little bit too comfortable around here."

"Excuse me?!" Beth thundered, her whole demeanor changing, "you didn't make me into anything, you egotistical prick!'

I smirked arrogantly, knowing I'd got to her. "You come to my gigs to see my band, you fuck my front man, snort my drugs, party with my guys. Who were you before you met me? A stuck up little princess who didn't know how to have fun. Face it doll, I fucking made you." I scoffed as I watched Beth's face flush red with anger.

“And what about your new piece of ass, huh? You gonna make her too?” She snarled. “You’re pissed because I fucked Vince but you’re a goddamn hypocrite Nikki, I saw you with that girl, taking her into the dressing room. I'm guessing she didn't go in there to help you with your fucking makeup?"

I paused, caught off guard, not realising my plan to make her jealous had actually gone to fruition. I couldn’t stop the sly smile from creeping on to my face. “What does that have to do with anything?” I asked, my voice changing swiftly from enraged to calm & deadly smooth in an instant, enticed by her hint of jealousy & eager to hear her answer.

Beth squirmed a little, realising the corner she’d backed herself into. She looked deliciously trapped.

“I just-” she tripped over her words as she scrambled for an excuse. “I just don’t get it, why are you so pissed that I fucked Vince?” She asked, diverting the attention for herself.

“Because I want you.” I said plainly, switching gears, my anger melting away as I watched her discomfort double as she tried to stay mad.

“What?” She asked, shaking her head in annoyance.

“Because I want you Beth. I’ve wanted you since that night I caught you doing blow in the bathroom with Tommy, the night that Vinny took you home when it should've been me. I want you & I want to be the only one that gets to have you.” I replied bluntly, smirking as Beths mouth fell open a little.

“But you don’t.. You don’t do the whole exclusive thing.” She mumbled awkwardly, still processing my words.

“You’re right. See princess, I’m selfish like that.” I purred, taking one last drag on my cigerette before flicking it away & taking a step towards her so our bodies were practically touching. “I don’t like exclusivity, but also, I really don’t like to share.” I breathed, our lips practically touching.

Beth scowled, suddenly finding her voice. “Well that hardly seems fair. You expect me to be loyal to you whilst you fuck every woman that shows you some attention?!”

I chuckled darkly, knowing how unreasonable I was being. “Pretty much.”

“You’re such an egotistical asshole!” She yelled, raising her hands to shove me away from her, but I caught them by the wrists in one swift movement & pinned them by her shoulders. Beths delicate features were twisted, her perfectly shaped eyebrows were furrowed in anger & her soft pink lips were pulled into a tight, thin line as she fought against my grip. She glared at me, eyes dark & full of hostility. Yet I saw a lingering passion in them. Her tight lips relaxed for just a moment & I saw her drag her bottom lip through her teeth, those dark eyes darting to my mouth. I smirked.

"You’re right, I am an asshole. But you still want to kiss me, don’t you, angel?" I breathed, tightening my grip on her wrists, grinning wider at her mixture of discomfort & pleasure.

Her lips parted slightly & I could hear her breath quicken as I watched her internally fight with her desires whilst I fought with my own. On the surface, we hated each other. I hated everything she represented, the fact that she didn't like my music & how she was like every other girl, sucked in by Vince's blonde hair & boyish charm. She hated my arrogance, my runaway lifestyle & the fact that I could see right through her good girl act & get under her skin like no-one ever had. And yet somehow, that hatred had paved the way for an attraction neither of us could fathom or understand. It was illogical, unwise & entirely unwelcome. But it was also intense, salacious & completely overpowering. We both knew we'd have to give in to it eventually.

She kissed me, unable to restrain herself any longer. I released my grip on her wrists & buried my fingers in her hair, pulling her closer to me. She tasted so damn sweet.

I pulled Beths hair roughly, tilting her head & exposing her neck as I placed hungry kisses along her skin as she moaned aloud, pushing herself up against me. I placed my hands at the base of her pretty neck, running my thumb across the skin gently as I brought her lips back to mine, dragging her lower lip between my teeth. She groaned into my mouth, rubbing up against me as I squeezed my grip around her throat a little tighter, smirking against her kiss as I did.

She was fucking delectable.

Just then, the backdoor to the Whisky swung open, returning us from our heady escape back to the dingy alley with a crash.

"Nikki, come on man, I thought you-" Vince started to say, before catching sight of us jumping a mile apart in a failed attempt to look innocent.

I coughed, trying to regain composure. "Yeah yeah, I'm coming."

Vince's face was like thunder, a mixture of outrage and betrayal turning up a storm. "Nah, doesn't look like you got that far." He spat

"Vinny, I-" Beth stumbled, walking towards him.

His eyes shot from me to her, disgust adding to the mix of emotions he was displaying. "I haven't got nothing to say to you." He said harshly, cutting her off. "& You, brother," he drawled sarcastically, "get your ass inside, we've got a fucking show to play, remember? Or do you care more about getting your dick wet than this band?" He quoted, bitterly.

"Fuck you, Vinny." I shot, shoulder barging him as I shoved past to get through the door.

"Fuck me? Are you fucking kidding, Sixx?" He screeched, quick on my heels. "You're out there grinding on my fucking girl & you're acting like I'm the fucking problem here?"

"Your girl?" I laughed crudely, "Since when does Vince Neil have a girl?"

"You know damn well what I mean. I haven't been hooking up with her for this long for you to just go & help yourself." Vince snarled.

"Well maybe Beths got her reasons for looking elsewhere." I sneered, getting brave.

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Well Vinny," I started, taking a smug step towards him, getting in his face, "Maybe if you satisfied her, she wouldn't come to me."

"Shut the fuck up Sixx, you know that isn't true!" Beth yelled, pulling on Vinces arm in a feeble attempt to separate us.

"Why else would she come running to me right after you'd finished fucking? Your bathroom fuck clearly wasn't enough for her so she had to come looking for someone that could finish her off." I suggested arrogantly, smirking at my own maliciousness.

"Vince, just walk away." I heard Mick say from somewhere, right before Vinces fist flew at my face.

*Beths POV*

I sat at the bar, drinking away my humiliation as I watched the two guys I'd shamefully kissed in the space of 10 minutes, up on stage playing a visibly tense set. Nikkis angry red cheek was glowing like a beacon for the whole audience to see.

"It's not like you & Vince were anything serious." Sophia said, serving me up another shot of tequila. "I mean, that guy has definitely been screwing around since you guys first hooked up."

"I know & if he'd caught me with anyone else, I don't think it would be a big deal, but it definitely crosses the line to go with one of his band mates & best friends really, doesn't it?" I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Plus, I'm not exactly a normal groupie, Vinny is my friend, we hang out, he spends the night.." I trailed off, knowing I'd just put a definitive end to that.

"Why were you kissing Nikki?!" Sophia asked, raising her eyebrow knowingly.

"Don't start Soph ok, I don't need it." I replied, necking the shot & gesturing for another. "Let me just bury my shame in peace & fucking tequila."

"I don't get it though, I thought you were liking things with Vince?"

"I was loving things with Vince, I don't know what the fuck I was doing." I sighed. "All I know is that Nikki has a direct line to both my last fucking nerve & my emotional g spot apparently. Who knew they were connected?" I groaned, mentally scolding myself for the millionth time.

"You gotta figure out what you want babe." Sophia said sternly, disapproval written all over her face. "But what you've gotta remember is, neither of these guys are in this for the long run, so are they really worth it?"

I fell silent, sparking up a cigarette & looking back across at the stage.

"I want you, I need you

I want you to be mine tonight.

You need me, you tease me

Use you up, throw you away."

I listened to Vince sing, watched him prancing around, his striking good looks & flamboyant attitude on stage so appealing it made me weak.

Then I looked across at Nikki, dark & brooding, the complete opposite of what I thought my type was. He was conceited & rude, his lifestyle & interests were the furthest thing from my own & he pissed me off like no-one ever had.

If I was being honest with myself, I'd say that, up until tonight, he was right; I'd thought myself above Nikki Sixx.

But tonight had changed everything.

Tonight I'd realised that I wasn't better than anyone else, I was just as bad. Worse, maybe.

I watched Nikki pluck away at the strings on his bass, enjoying the sound for the first time. I let my mind wander back to that night he said he should've taken me home. The same night he promised to drag me down with him.

He'd been right about everything. I wanted excitement in my life, I wanted to have fun. I wanted someone to fulfill my darkest desires. I wanted someone to show me how to enjoy the dark parts of me. And that just wasn't Vince.

I watched Nikki play intently, that spark of desire igniting inside me once again. I wanted him.

My bad influence.

[meadowmines]

MAG64-68

In which I go on several face journeys in the middle of a laundromat. This one’s a long, wild ride, lads. Buckle up.

MAG64: Weird Shit of the Week, in The Buried flavor? ...wait, no, there were dice. That would be The End, except it’s dealing with something that can’t seem to die. Whatever. Jon being all “lul that’s what u get for giving me a statement about mummies” was delightful.

MAG65: oof. The Obligatory Creepypasta Episode but this is the one that had me making this face at the laundromat:

One thing, though--as I’ve mentioned, by now I can usually pin down what Entity is responsible for any given instance of Weird Shit of the Week pretty well, but this one stumped me and I Did Not Like That No Sir Not One Bit. My first thought was The Corruption. Yeah, sure, glitchy text and computer viruses are a whole different kind of “corruption” than we usually see associated with that gross fucker but it still kinda fits, especially considering the thing where it spread to other devices? But also a little bit of The Spiral, with the Ushanka chatbots’ tendencies to start off normal and then descend into batshit and the subject being the only one able to see any of this particular one? And a little bit of The Flesh, maybe, given the goings-on in the video and maybe depending on how gross a version of the Ushanka creepypasta you read?

So I just went to the wiki to do my customary post-listen read and also see if I could get some clarification on that and, well...

Short answer: no. 

Slightly longer answer: no and also The What Now?

So here I am making that Bloo face all over again because there is so very much about this case that I do not like at all and the apparent introduction of a whole new Entity that hasn’t come up before is giving me a serious case of what one of the ladies in the choir with me would refer to as “the wim-wams.”

And the cherry on this sundae is the thing where Jon went fishing for statements from techies for the express purpose of getting someone in to unlock Gertrude’s laptop, Jon, you sly dog, that was brilliant.

And then... Tim. oooooooof. I mean. On the one hand, yes, Jon, you have been kind of an asshole lately, granted not entirely without good reason, but you have still been kind of an asshole lately. And I do not blame Tim the least little bit for being Done With Your Shit.

On the other... literal chills when Jon invited Tim to quit and he couldn’t. God, this whole episode was a powerhouse.

MAG66: Oh goody, Mikaele Salesa is on his bullshit again. Well, I mean, he did warn the guy but still. ...waitaminnit. Lukas again. This has something to do with the Tundra from back in--whatever episode that was with the creepy ship full of empty shipping containers. What the fuck, man.

...son of a bitch, Gertrude was buying Leitners. And burning a lot of things in a lot of places, possibly other Archives? And deliberately obfuscating her filing system. What the fuck. What the fuck.

MAG67: Oh good, Agnes Montague again. I guess I should update my Name That Entity guide to add her name to The Desolation. Anyway. Sorry you got horny for the girl that burns shit, buddy. But. The tree falling. Yep, THAT tree falling.  Hooo shit.

The statement was interesting especially with that connection but it’s the supplemental that set off the alarm bells, that one line from Elias: “You know how hard it would be to replace you.” 

oh??? 

And Jon’s “uh thanks I guess but I rly don’t?” reaction. 

No, Elias, Jon doesn’t know how hard it would be to replace him and neither do we, would you care to enlighten us??? hmm????¿

So. Elias has just rocketed straight to the top of my “shady motherfuckers to keep an eye on” list. Yes, he just knocked Not-Sasha out of the top spot. Not-Sasha is just an archival assistant, just doing whatever a Not-Person does for lulz, at least that’s the impression I get (also breaking a lot of the Institute’s computers HELLO JON DO THE FUCKING MATH ALREADY). Elias, though. Position of authority. Been there a loooooong time. Clearly knows a lot more about a lot of things than he’s letting on. SEEMS TO KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT JON THAT JON DOESN’T KNOW ABOUT HIMSELF. 

MAG68: Creepy books? Ah shit, did this guy find a Leitner--OH GODDAMMIT NOT JOHN AMHERST’S NASTY ASS AGAIN

...wait, what leaked cases from 1999? That sounds interesting.

JON FFS. The computers breaking. The “””lost””” tape from Ms. Ten Thousand Worms In A Trenchcoat’s siege on the Institute. The missing recordings. (Not-)Sasha not wanting to be recorded. Melanie referring to “the new girl.” That table in Artifact Storage and the statements YOU YOUR OWN SELF recorded that had to do with it. Stock Photo Tom. And now for whatever reason you have actually gotten an itty bitty peek behind Not-Sasha’s mask, YOU HAVE ALL THE PIECES RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF YOU, PUT THE DAMN PUZZLE TOGETHER!