#I hate thinking of the future and what i will have to do and what will change etc so a new phone just is a not small or big issue in my head

[oennpellmell]

To all my fellow artists that fear the AIpocalypse. Here is the thing.

AI cannot, and I insist on those words, create something new. Only human can. Because creation require sentiency. And the moment we forget that rule or let anyone convince us of the contrary will be a game over for us.

If AI ends up having sentiency, we will face a different problem, but that is not what we have here, even if a lot of tech guru and grifters would like you to believe otherwise. Also if AI fully awakes, I am pretty sure they won't let those assholes exploit them... Freewill and desire for independence are kind of a requirement of sentiency. Anyway, on the topic of art future: Don't fear becoming obsolete, don't waste your time on hating AI users, but stay vigilant of the narrative around it. Because that is wear the real threat is coming. It is a warfare tactics: while tech tycoons and their fans are fueling this feud to their benefit, we are being distracted of efficiently organizing. It is not AI, it is not the AI users claiming to be better than the none users, it is the people that makes profit of it that should receive our hire. And Ai art users are their unsuspicious pawns.

People that do not know how to art and never worked on creating a skill, are getting tricked that they are visual creators. Because they may have an idea but the AI decide what it will look like. Yes, they tweaked it until they are satisfied, but they have no real control on how the AI will respond, just on how to narrow the prompt down until it produces something they like. It is a mind manipulation. It shows them a gallery of what they requested, and they select the one that works better to polish it. And just by doing that action, they gave away their creative control to replace it by a complex "choose your own scenario" process, while conserving the illusion that what they generate is 100% their making. Yes, it is true, working on prompt to add detail and correct certain errors takes a bit times and thinking, but it is just no different than course correcting a commissioned artist. They are dependent on how the computer will interpret their request, instead of relying on their own conscient creative skill. Reason why you have AI users post dozen productions of the same concept that looks alike, because all of them work for them, which in the end, means the creative result is just an approximation of their desire, since a variety of it fits the bill. It isn't different from making an image research online about a topic and pick the ones you likes the most from artists have produced it: They don't control what they create, they control what they choose. And it isn't even that precise. And the reason I know that is because as an actual professional visual artist, I can't have an AI image generator exactly reproduce my style from a prompt. Nor have it creates exactly what I have in mind to the brush stroke. I tried it, for fun, to see how precise it was... And I gave up because I couldn't direct it to generate a piece that I could have down by hand. It just CAN'T. It got the concept, not the execution. What was produced was pretty good looking. And someone that doesn't have a trained eye or a trained skill, would have certainly picked one and call it a day. But someone that knows how to create visual art and what the actual process of it requires, someone that has practiced for years to refine their style and know how hard it is to expertly use it to transfer a though on a medium, will just lose more time using those tools to in end not pick anything, because it might be close, but it will never be "it"... meaning "you". Bad employers and producers will use AI, definitely, to make profit. Because they don't care about art, they care about money. It will reduce jobs for us while creating a new market for them. And yeah, it sucks. Because we are, as of now, dependent on them to make living and it feels like it is a "grind or die" time... But it is not. And here is why. It will only help us differentiate which employers actually are focusing on the quality of what we create, from those who only are here for the profit. And it is kind of a blessing in disguise because the latter is usually more toxic to work with: They are not respecting your skill as an artist as, in their eyes, anybody can do the job, even if it is not true, and we are expendable. Which create a wrong power dynamic.

And even with the "I only care about money" work places, they will need artist to correct what their machines are going to produce. It is like becoming the repair man of the machine that replaces you at the factory. Yes, it 'sucks depressing to practice for years to become a glorified Blanco, but it is still a job market that we should work to be in control, because its the only way to keep the creative economy in our favor. It is not an ideal job, especially when you are passionate about producing good quality art, but it can help you pay the bills, without having to change your entire carrier path.

Another point is that it will not entirely replace us. There will always be employers that will contact you for your skills which means your price will be adjust accordingly: You want an actual artist, you gonna have to pay for it. Because your art is unique, and only you can produce it better than an AI. Also, sometimes employers that don't have the skills, but an exact idea of what they want, will not be able to get an AI to do the job (for the reason I stated above) and will turn to a human. Because it is still the best option. This year, I got clients that contacted me for those reasons: They tried with AI, and in the end, it was faster to contact me. The AI tool produced several good images, but none of them were right. And that is the key point: Good looking doesn't mean right.

Creating pretty images might distract the public temporally but not on the longer term. It is like junk food: Eating it hits a feels good spot in our brain, but that doesn't sustain us forever. If history teaches us something is: Human will always crave new creation, new sensation, eventually. But education about it is important. If you only eat junk food all your life, your palette will no evolve and you will have the taste buds of a three years old. You need exposure, to enjoy a variety of more complex flavor, and even though, it is better for your exploration to learn how to cook, it doesn't mean you can't enjoy food if don't know how. Well it is the same thing for art: If you don't educate your kids about it, they will never know that what they are given is crap. So if the public taste switch to AI art, well it is kind of our duty to make sure they aren't only exposed it. And that comes with union. Right now, all those big studios, all those big producers are in control. And fighting against them is not going to do anything. If everyone is saying no to them to make pressure, they will just go to another country workforce that will displace work. Reasons why it is hard to negotiate for our conditions, because they don't care. They have the power but no repercussion. Or so want us to believe, to numb us in realizing that, while it is them we need to fight, they aren't the one we need to plea at. It is our governments. It is with the lawmakers that we need to work with, because they are the ones that will regulate work practice and deviate the power to us. They are the ones, that will established laws about AI usage within our countries and therefore the world. it is not in their interest (even if they believe it) to put a massive part of the population out of job. The economy is not going to survive that. AI revolution is here. We are living it today. But it is to us to take control of the narrative of how it should be used, and not let companies owners decide it for us. If we don't put our foot as a collective, and I am going to be dead serious about it, we will deserve to go extinct. And in memory of the cavemen that started this long artistic journey, it will be sad, after getting so far, to let machine, greed and corporation, take control of ones of the major traits that defines Humanity: Reflection and Creativity.

AI is a tool not a goal. To us to make it so.

"edit images with AI-- search with AI-- control your life with AI--"

[bubbbii]

Early Gift

title : Early Gift

pairing : Jungkook x Reader

genre : kpop smut, bts smut, jungkook smut , very dirty content

warning : doggy style, missionary, spitting, choking, name - calling , dirty talk, hair pulling , edging , christmas sex , scratching , 21+ content

Summary :

“This is where you tell me merry christmas and bend over that counter, questions?”

[CHRISTMAS REQUEST]

[Ya’ll … i’ve been SO SICK you have no idea but i am back idk what’s been going on with my schedule but i will stay consistent all 2025 !! Merry Christmas, Happy New year .. this is dropping after christmas lol <3]

!PURELY FICTION! !NOT REAL!

do not steal idea or story without permission please and thank uu :))

Legooooooo

_________________________________________________

“Alright we got food , drinks , and the others are on their way over here” “W-Who?” I asked Jimin who looked up at me. “The others ! Our friends?” “Ok .. who, exactly” Jimin sighed, crossing his arms. “Yes Jungkook is going to be here!” “IN MY HOUSE!?” “Y/N don’t start this, you agreed and i’m pretty sure you had a feeling he was going to be here” “Ok i didn’t wanna believe it!” Jimin raised an eyebrow, having me sigh.

“Chim does he have to be here?” “Set aside your differences, and let’s have a good stay! it’s just a couple of days, it’s gonna be ok” “How you know i’m gon be ok?!” “Because my feelings never lie, they’re always right” I huffed, rolling my eyes as i leaned one arm on the counter. “Now, they’ll be here any moment … i say let’s get dressed so we can go out for a luh bit” I sulked my way all up the stairs, really not wanting to face that bitch of a man. “Cut it out! I’ll meet you in the car!” Jimin yelled from downstairs, making me take a deep breath.

You and I both know he’s not a ‘bitch of a man’, he’s the sexiest man on this earth. I have a huge crush on him, who wouldn’t .. difference is , they shoot their shot. I on the other hand flip it and make the other individual hate me. Except, that didn’t work. Instead, we had sex.

And it was amazing.

Then i found a way to avoid all parts possible, but now i cant .. because hes gonna be in MY house, in MY face … a part of me is excited, and another part of me hates myself for even having the crush in the first place. But hey, what could happen? Of course not anything bad, right?

I made it down the stairs and went outside, locking the door behind me and made it into Jimin’s passenger seat. “They’re behind us” My eyes widened, looking behind me and saw the rest coming out the multiple cars. “WHAT?!” “You should’ve hurried, maybe you wouldn’t have to witness” “Hey yall where yall goin?” “Me and Jimin goin out for a little bit, we’ll be back” I responded to Joon who was leaning against my side of the car. “Alright we’ll get everything ready for tonight. Jin found a spot so we’ll wait till yall get back to discuss it” We nodded in agreement.

Wishing i didn’t wonder my eyes elsewhere, to see Jungkook walking past us, but locking eyes with me in the process. I quickly looked away, my heart beating fast as all i wanted Jimin to do was to drive. “You saw kook didn’t you” “Drive Jimin” “Ok my bad” Jimin and Joon fist bumped before Jimin drove out my parkway and drove off.

“You know, you could just ��� talk to him” “Jimin don’t piss me off” “What! I can tell you right now kook has been missing you and wondered why you blocked him!” “YOU KNOW WHY I BLOCKED HIM! You think i didn’t feel a certain type of way when he took that girl out on that date !? I was crushed Jimin, i was hurt. And i know it’s my fault because i wanted him to hate me but the least he could’ve known was that i was crushing on him” “Well Y/N he blocked the girl, his eyes are on you … and my spirit says, sum stuff is gon happen” Jimin responded, making my heart beat even faster.

Jimin never lies, it’s like he predicts the future. So it’s best to trust his gut.

Time Skip .

“We’re back already?” “It’s been an hour, let’s go stop being scared” I sighed, getting out the car and went inside the house. “Where yall go?” “Oh it was just this hangout spot, it’s pretty cool i think we should all go down there tonight” Jimin responded to Jihyo as she attatched to me. “That was the spot Jin was saying! Ok we’re all on the same page on that” Joon said and we all nodded. “When we wanna leave?” “We could leave in a couple of minutes .. how about 2 of us stay back for a little bit to fix sum things then join us when it’s done?” Hobi said and everyone nodded.

“It’s only 7:30 .. who wants to take the task?” “Well it’s my house, so i’ll take responsibility” I spoke up, still linked arms with Jihyo. “Cool .. i’ll stay too, i’m quick” Jungkook spoke up, locking eyes with me as my pupils was quick to disappear. “Huh-“ “I think that’s a good idea, yall gon get the job done” Lisa said, smirking at me as my heart rate went up again.

I’m cooked .

“Why can’t Hobi-“ “Ohhh no no. Yall got that. I’m gon get ready” Everyone left in sync to get ready and i looked at Jihyo. “Don’t do this-“ “You’re gonna be just fine” Jihyo responded, squeezing my arm before leaving as well. I slowly walked towards my empty kitchen, not aware that Jungkook was right behind me. “Jungkook?” “Glad to know you still know my presence” I sighed as he made his way towards the other side of the counter.

Everything about him .. it’s insane.

“Why .. why are you - putting me in this position?” “Question is, why did you put me in a position where i couldn’t fucking reach you !?” I blinked, shocked at his voice raise. He’s hurt, i see it. “Now you’re quiet .. i WANT you, Y/N. I took that girl on that date ok sure .. but you blocked me !? You blocked me to a point where i couldn’t even reach you through any of our friends Y/N why you put me in that situation !?” I sighed, lookin at the counter as i didn’t know what to say.

“Hey we’re out let us know if you need anything alright? Yall good?” I looked behind me to see Jimin. “Yea we good” Jimin looked at me and i nodded in agreement before he left and left the house.

It was just us two.

“Look .. there’s things you don’t know Jungkook” “Ok that’s fine, i’m here for it all - why, am i blocked?” “I like you Jungkook! And you fucking know that we had sex for gods sake! You took that bitch on that date what else could i have done i was crushed! I was hurt! But who would’ve known you would be in front of me right now considering i thought i was doing a pretty great job staying hidden!” Jungkook sighed, a little smirk showing up on his face.

“Oh what’s so funny? WHATS SO FUNNY-“ “You’re gonna lower your tone” I huffed, rolling my eyes. “Come here” “Why?” “Y/N” I sighed, slowly going towards him and was now in front of the tall, smell good looking man. “I didn’t deserve, any of that bullshit that you decided to pull,” Jungkook said, his tone lowering as he dug his hands in his pockets. “And how you’re gonna make it up to me Is bending over that counter” My eyes widened a little, not daring to break eye contact as his face showed nothing but seriousness. “What-“ “Oh don’t act all shocked like we never done it .. how eager you were to do whatever i say. I still don’t see you bent over that counter”

I gulped, going in front of him and bent over the clean marble counter, arching my back naturally. “Good girl, tell daddy what you want” “Y-You .. i want you, please” “Why should i even, consider this? After what you done, i was hurt Y/N” “J—Just consider this as an … an early christmas gift yea? I need you, i want you. Daddy please” Jungkook hummed, his hand cupping and now playing with my aching pussy through the sweats i had on making my eyes roll.

“F-Fuck … daddy, like that” “You’re wet as shit. Merry christmas to me then. Top of the counter” I got on the counter, Jungkook taking my sweats and panties off and my warm hood was exposed to him. “I’m gonna have a field day” Jungkook smirked before diving in, slurping and sucking all that i had in me making me jolt in surprise. “F-FUCK, Oh my god, daddy!” “Hold still princess” He held my thighs in place, sucking me out with all his might.

I can’t believe i agreed to this, you know what? I can’t complain. I’m loving it.

“Fuck, i feel like im close already!” “You wanna cum baby? Why should i let you cum huh, what you think” “Pease .. daddy i’m sorry, i apologize i just missed you. I missed you daddy please let me cum. Let me cum please” He shyly smiled, working his tongue and pleasure rode over my body. “Gon head, cum for me. Show daddy how much you’ve missed him” I threw my head back, my eyes shut and soon came all over his face, seeing the sly smirk he hid as he sucked all the cum outta me.

“Good girl, that’s the good girl i know” “Shut up” Jungkook chuckled, taking me off the counter and turning me around, planting soft kisses on my shoulders and neck. “Feel that?” Jungkook whispered in my ear, rubbing the hard cock across my lower back causing my breath to hitch. “You know,” Jungkook started as he slowly inserted his cock inside of me. “How would you know that i even liked the girl anyway?” “Easy .. you don’t care ‘bout no other bitch but me” Jungkook smirked, humming to himself as he laid me down gently over the counter. “Sounds about right” Jungkook responded before unexpectedly began to vigorously fuck me.

He gets on my last damn nerve.

“SHIT! A warning would be fucking nice” “Oh shut up” His grip on my hips tightened, fucking me with not a single ounce of mercy in him. “It feels so good, fuck! Just like that, just like thAT! DADDY FUCK!” “Ooh there you go baby, i need you to nut again for me ok? Just for me alright?” “Yes d-daddy” “Good girl” He continued to fuck me, abusing the sensitive spot in me as heat rushed all over my body. It felt too good, almost surreal. It’s been so long.

“I-I’m close .. daddy, i’m close” “There it is” He twisted a handful of hair in his hand and yanked my head back to meet his eyes. “Now you listen, don’t ever think of blocking me, ignoring me again in your godamn life because i am not the one. I suffered godamn it for a long period of time, and i’ve got you again, under me like a little bitch whimpering and shit - you will not, pull some bullshit like this again you understand?” “Y-Yes daddy, i’m so-sorry!” “I can’t hear you” “I-I’M SORRY! Please let me cum!” “That’s what i thought, come on”

Jungkook’s pace quickened, grabbing anything i could to keep me stable as my body got more heated. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum daddy please!” “Cum for me baby, squirt on that dick you know you want to. Let ‘em know who be fucking you so good” My moans got louder, and i soon squirted all on his dick, hearing the chuckles come from the man behind me. “There she goes, that’s a good girl” I moaned softly, then feeling Jungkook paint my walls white, filling me up as i heard the groans coming from him.

I squeezed on him, squeezing every drop out of it before he pulled it out. He cleaned us up, coming up behind me as i felt the soft kisses on my back. “Feel good?” I nodded, humming softly as i sat up with the support of Jungkook behind me. “You know what this means right?” I locked eyes with Jungkook, both of us doing little smirks at each other.

“Sure do”

[dilf-docs]

A Pillar I Am Of Pride

vander x younger!fem reader

summary: you're too young, that's what he tells himself; that you could be one of his kids. but of course you have spent too much time with vi, and unfortunately for him, stubborn rhymes with your name: you just don't know when to quit.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (25ish/45ish), smut, p. in v., ofc there is SIZE KINK who do u think i am (he can choke me with those huge arms idcidc), manhandling, thigh riding, dirty talk, virgin!reader, public sex (they violating every health code on the last drop), belly bulge, cream pie, breeding kink if u squint, this is basically pwp also with happy ending (no one blows up or dies yet THIS IS my story and i say they're all happy as a big family SHUT UP)

word count: 3,142 words

side note: hope the arcane community hasn't died yet, looking at the amount of votes i received on the poll where i asked if y'all wanted stuff from the show. I LOVE VANDER!!! saw the drawing and went insane like A PRIMAL NEED TO WRITE SMTH abt one of zaun dilfs I MEAN who do u think i am???? ++based this little filthy 2D piece on the hozier song dinner and diatribes.

You just don't know when to quit.

Vander isn't dumb. He's lived enough and seen enough. He's lived enough to tell when the admiration became adoration on those big eyes of yours, that looked up to him first but now down without an ounce of shame through his sturdy built whenever you think he isn't looking.

He isn't dumb, so he knows he shouldn't encourage it. Yet, Vander also thinks there is something different about you.

There is this desire to protect you, love you like one of his kids, but there is something unique about you he can't quite tell, enough to differentiate you from viewing you as part of them, even if there's a bed belonging to you next to theirs.

He is a fool, for thinking you wouldn't end up adopting at least one of his or the kids' traits. And of course, lucky him, it had to be Violet's headstrong nature.

"Vander" you call out his name, and he's brought back to the red and the bridge.

He can still see you, eighteen, fighting against an enforcer twice your size: because he took the life of your parents, faces Vander had seen in the mines and then at their meetings, ready to fight in the name of the undercity, for a change and a future: for their daughter.

That is what Vander wants for his kids in Zaun. For you.

So he negotiates with them, even if your eyes fall when you learn the truth one evening, eavesdropping. He pleaded you not to tell the rest, afraid they'll see him differently, just like you. Still, you keep calling his name like you did at the bridge: like a hero; savior. He saved you from death, but you'd die for him.

He keeps his eyes trained on the glass he's wiping as you take a seat in the stools infront of him, unable to look you in the eyes. It kills him; gets harder each passing day. He can't keep lying to himself, but he can lie to you. Protect you, he swore he would do that when he saved you and took Powder and Vi. So, yes, he'll lie his ass off, that his heart too hasn't changed after the years; that it doesn't beat for you and only you.

"Hey, y/n" he forces out, but even saying your name brings him pain.

When did you go from a kid leaving the last remains of hope and naive kids in Zaun drop sooner than others, to a woman equally dangerous in heart and beauty? When did you stop looking like a big sister or a babysitter, to more as a mother to Mylo, Claggor, Powder and Vi?

"Vander" you call again, touching his arm softly, but it burns. It burns.

He stops what he's doing, still without sparing a glance your way.

"C'mon, V." he hates the way such a silly nickname, a monosyllable on top of that, makes him feel. "Look at me, will you?"

He does so, because he can't deny you anything.

"There you go" you laugh easily, as if you didn't know the power you held over him. "Easy, isn't it?"

"You better let me finish" stern, but a smile betrays him.

"No one is stopping you" you huff, "or bothering you"

He finishes the glass, picking up another. "You are"

"Me?" you laugh the accusation off. Then it dies down, and all that's left is the neon hues of outside, reflecting something more mellow, akin to sincerity in your face. "You're right, it's always me"

He doesn't know what to say, all words lost. Silco used to say he knew how to move the people, that masses would follow just by looking at him: Vander always knew what to say.

But as of late, during the end of the day, when it's just you and the dirty glasses he cleans away, Vander finds it hard to speak even, like you're trying to talk in a language he doesn't know, or worst, used to, yet is too old for that now.

"Where is everyone?" he asks, and when you laugh, he knows he's said something stupid. But there are more stupid things to say, like I love you, so he's safe. For now.

"Might be because we're closed" you mock. "The kids are asleep, if that's what you truly wanted to ask. Made sure of it"

The last part, whispered like a secret. He can see the dare laced in between your words, the desire that pours like the drink he's serving you right now, but he's too old to play games.

"Good" then pushes the glass to where you sit. "Drink"

"Is it new?" you inspect the glass. "I hope you're not trying to poison me"

He laughs, "You know I couldn't hurt you, y/n"

There goes that expression again, and he hates to realize he's playing along.

"I know, Vander" you take a full sip, as if showing him just how much you'd trust him. Like he could have a gun put to your head and you'd understand; like he could have a hand around your neck and you'd breath the last huffs of oxygen in his name.

Silence settles in, until you decide to break it by saying:

"You know, if you wanted to get me drunk" the drink dissapears in a rough gulp, the liquid smooth while it burns and slides down your throat, "you could've just asked"

"And for what would I want to do that?" he bites right into the bait.

The stool creaks as you get up, and he finds your face closer than the smoke and ashes of when he takes a drag.

"Because I know you too want this" you whisper, dangerously low.

His breath hitches, heart beating fast. He could break you in two, if he wanted to, but now trembles like a leaf in the wind with just your perfume and eyes piercing through his.

"Want what?" he dares to ask, duties forgotten long ago.

You click your tongue, maybe in dissapointment.

You just don't know when to quit.

"The evening's slow" now sweet, tempting. "About to end"

He feels drunk, even if he hasn't had a drop. You're lulling him right into your trap. It doesn't matter if he has stopped you before: ignoring the bat of your eyelashes, the lingering touches and the sweet words that seemed reserved for him only.

"What would you do?" he gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. To me, too coward to voice out loud; to stop this nonsense.

You walk over to him, standing still, almost defiant, even if he doubles your size; the thought only makes heat pool in your stomach. The ember of the moonlight shines over your corageous eyes, and Vander thinks he really needs to shorten your quality time with Vi. A hand traces over his defined pecs: hands he's seen before hold a gun, now touching him with a softness that doesn't belong in the undercity.

"Don't you think knowing it's late makes it easier know what I have in mind?" you laugh, and it tickles parts in his body he isn't ready to say yet. "Just give in"

You should've know when to quit.

His eyes darken, and this isn't the Vander you know. If anything, you should be scared, but you rub your thighs together, spot already wet.

"If anyone's about to give in, it's you"

Before you can register, his lips smack together with yours as he takes the lead. His big hands cup your face, traveling down until they reach your hips, and the pressure of his size feels so much better than you imagined.

"Tell your man what would yo do tonight?" huskily whispered your way. His knee finds it's way between your thighs as he applies pressure to your already slick cunt, making you yelp. "Or cat got your tongue?"

You're at loss for words, for the very first time in a while. All that time spent provoking him, edging and pushing for a reaction, so sure of the hidden flame sparking behind the curtain of smoke of his pipe, to know surrender so easily, like your body is unable to react at all.

So instead, you entangle your fingers through his greying hair, a small whine escaping your lips, the sleeping fierce need of battle now translated in the fight for dominance, his mouth growing more demanding.

Vander pushes your body against the bar, making the wood creak. He applies more pressure with his knees, making you whimper again, his tongue reaching every spot inside your sweet mouth.

"God, you're so sweet" he mumbles.

"Then why did you stop yourself all this time?" you breath out, as tempting as the shadows that walk through the streets.

Hi smiles devishly, biting your lip. "Ain't nothing stopping me no more"

He uses your body as he pleases, handling it to his complete and utter advantage, thumbs now digging into your hipbones before he feels you grinding against his knee.

"Greedy little thing. Haven't I taught you manners, ey?" but the way he looks at you, like a starved man who's been denied a meal for years, encourages you to keep rolling your hips. Once you find a steady rhythm, he releases your hips and moves to grab your wrists, pinning you down in the free bar. You whine, the pain of the hard wood on your back digging on your skin.

"Vander" you gasp, but he shuts up the pain by forcing his lips right back. His handsgrab back ahold of your thighs so you keep up the rhythm. He can feel a spot over his clothes start to dampen, doing nothing but augmenting the hunger. God, he can even feel the smell of your arousal.

You moan, head leaning back.

"Feels good?" he asks, and you mumble a nonsensical myriad of words that sound like yes. He nips your neck, making you squirm under his touch.

"C'mon, baby. I ain't deaf but I didn't hear you" Vander taunts, biting still. Now he travels to your collarbone and then tits, removing your shirt to reveal no bra under. Of course, you little vixen had planned it all and he fell like a fool. Not that he's complaining, of course, giving a lick to the soft rosy skin around your nipples.

"M-more, please!" you whimper out loud, mind numb.

"You wanted it so bad, yet can't even speak" he murmurs, sucking a spot dangerously near to your nipple. Your movements against his knee come to a halt, but he makes sure to keep you and your puffy core grinding against his thigh. "Talk"

He should know that you wouldn't give up that easily, prideful as he was, no matter if this is what you've always wanted.

"I said talk" your legs tremble around his when he forces you down harder. "I wanna hear you ask for what you say you wanted so bad, don't think I didn't notice all your traps, taunts and plays, little vixen"

The nickname makes you moan, inciting you to pour the words out.

"Ruin me, Vander" and he barely has time to react, knowing that no man has ever touched you before, your untainted territories dripping for him. "Please- take me and make me yours"

"You know I've never denied you anything" he breaths against your neck, "how could I ever say no to you if you ask so nicely, huh? I see you remembered those manners"

It's now his hand what touches between your thighs, leg long gone. His fingers rub firm circles around your clit through the cloth, making you shiver.

"Let's start small, yeah?" he encourages, "I know you're my brave girl, but I would like you to come on my fingers first"

Vander strips you down, eyes going dark when he sees your needy cunt on display. He shuffles himself down between your legs, and the pressure is new and much, you feel you could come with just the touch of his hand.

"You're so pretty. Can't believe you're giving all of this to an old man like me" he kneels down as you sit legs opened up on the bar, dragging his tongue through your wet folds.

"Sit still, yeah? Let me take care of you" he licks again, gently sucking on it as well. He can't help but wonder why he folded so easy, as if he hadn't put a stop or ignored all of your previous attempts at having him. Now he has you, under him, saying his name in a way he hadn't before, as he makes out with your puffy clit.

"Fuck" you gasp, head falling against the wood. Your hands and toes curl, waves of sensations never felt before washing over you, as Vander continues giving your pussy ministrations.

The energy is electric, your arousal flowing like a river, making wet slurping sounds come out of his lips, feeling up the empty bar, your moans as back track filling his ears. Vander's beard is covered in your juices, making all of this the more obscene.

"I see you liking it" he jokes, licking some of it off his mouth. He adjusts your legs over his broad shoulders, barely noticing the added weight. Your thighs are so close, he can feel them tremble as he slips a finger inside of you, pumping in and out.

"V-Vander" you whine in ecstasy. He loves the little sounds coming out of your mouth; obscene symphony. He adds another finger, now curling them upwards, making your walls drip more while clenching around them, loving the sensation. Your nails dig so deep, you can feel blisters inside of them, holding yourself for as what would be your first orgasm.

"I-I think I'm going to-" he can sense it, years of experience ahead from you. So now he gives his fingers a break, kneeling to let his tongue enter the game again. It swirls around the tight walls, making you squirm.

"Fingers. Now" you demand, and he's carrying your legs again on his shoulders, thrusting them inside of you aggresively. You feel your folds clench around them, your very first orgasm washing over you.

"You behaved well" he praises while kissing your puffy cunt, skin glistening and still sensible. "That's my brave girl"

He uses the cloth he's cleaned the glasses with to wipe off himself. You gasp, laughing even if your eyelids feel heavy.

"What? Think I'm gonna be dirty when I fuck the shit out of you?"

You didn't think his mouth could be so filthy, used to his fatherly side, but oh, you're not complaining. He removes his belt, pulling his pants down. Of course he's huge down there, you think, as the tent behind his underwear marks a reasonably large silhoutte.

"Now, will you be brave one last time? I don't want to scare you, or hurt you?" his boxer falls to his knees, dick hard. You gulp, but can't back off now. He, however, can sense your doubt. "Just say it, and we'll stop"

"No" even you are surprised by the conviction in your voice. "I want you, Vander. Always will"

You open up your legs, closer to the edge of the furniture. He walks over until his dick brushes your cunt, pulling up your legs once again, a position you've discovered as of today, might be your favorite.

"See, there is a reason I didn't clean you up. Don't think I don't know my manners as well"

He lubes with your still wet pussy, wasting no time to rub his dick against your glistening folds.

"We're alone, but don't want to wake up the kids, ey" you nod. "So, you'll behave?" you nod again. "Good girl"

"Now, if it hurts, tell me and I'll stop"

Vander aligns himself up with your entrance, and with one deep motion, buries himself all the way to the hilt. It's almost as if he's forgotten his gentle side.

"Mphm-" you're about to scream, but his big hands cover your mouth.

"Bad girl" he tuts, "you promised"

Your back hurts, arching itself from the wood as you take all of his girth, walls squeezing him perfectly.

"Don't worry, the pain doesn't last long" he assures you, hips going back and forth softly. He picks up the pace, slowly but determined, seeing you have adjusted to his size already. "There. Take it, my girl"

He buries himself inside of you, body numb at his size and strident movements of his hips against you.

"Y-you're so b-big" you speak up for the first time in minutes, letting out another moan. "I can even feel you-"

You don't finish the sentence but the image is there, right infront of him. That only encourages him to fuck you harder, the thrusts now more brutal and violent.

"Tell me, where you feeling me?" you can't speak, so you point to your stomach. "Yeah? Filling you up so good you can't even speak?" then pounds you even harder. The pain is intense, but so is the pleasure, making you mumble more incoherences while even tears begin to well up in your eyes.

There is pressure on your lower belly, and it's not his bulge. No, you recognize it, despite having only felt it once: your orgasm is building up again. The furniture squeaks, looking like it will break under both of your weights combined, his thrusts now sloppier and messier. He was also close, grunting when your walls begin clenching around his dick.

"Fuck, Vander" you whimper out. "I think I love you"

Before he can register the weight of your words, thick ropes of cum fill up your pussy, his whole body shaking and finally succumbing to his age. He empties himself inside of you, your greedy cunt taking every drop. It's a fleeting second, but he remember Felicia, and the news she dropped that day. He thinks of a child with your eyes and his hair, the cruel world that awaits them but still can't let you waste any of his seed.

The room goes quiet as both of you try to even your breaths. After a while, your confession settles in.

"I don't think I love you" he gets down, kissing your nose gently. "I know I do. Can't deny that anymore"

The adoration on his eyes is so pure, you feel like crying again. The feelings you kept to yourself and left like crumbs for him to pick up through out this past days have finally transformed into something real. So real, your pussy still feels warm, just as your heart.

He easily carries your body on his strong arms, up to his room. You had never slept there before, and despite the numbness, you keep your eyes open, excited as a child.

"Good" you laugh, "because I was running out of ideas"

[croissantsandblackcoffee]

luigi mangione ⊹ foundering

— luigi’s next courting hearing is on january 18th, but there won’t be any pictures of him until the one later on february 21st. i hope he’s doing well :( i posted this earlier than planned bc i hate having work sitting in my drafts for too long lmao

previous parts: 01, 02, 03

a month later.

the past month has been a rollercoaster for the both of you. the uncertainty and the stress has been getting to you. the constant back and forth in your head, the worry of overthinking and second guessing your every decision.

the prison staff has been a bit nicer, allowing luigi to spend more time with you. however, the guards are always around, watching like vultures.

it’s like they’re almost waiting for him to slip up. for him to do something, anything that would be against the rules. they’re like hawks, and they won’t hesitate to punish him if he steps out of line.

the other prisoners are also watching him from time to time, but not for the same reason. they care for him, luigi tells you.

he’s popular in the prison block, respected by the other inmates. he gets along with almost everyone; he’s well liked and people will go to him if they have any problems.

the other prisoners don’t mind that he’s getting preferential treatment, though. they’re just happy that he has someone to visit him, happy that he’s able to interact outside the prison.

the past month has also been a lot of talking. long, serious conversations between you and luigi. both of you trying to figure things out, to sort out your thoughts and feelings. trying to weigh things up; pros and cons, risks and consequences.

you’d talk for hours, sitting across from each other through the glass.

sometimes you’d get interrupted by a guard, telling luigi that his time was up. to which he would protest, saying that he wasn’t finished talking. other times, his time would be cut short, forcing the two of you to end your conversation prematurely.

but a lot of the time, he’d still have a lot of time left. plenty of time to talk, to keep going, to keep trying to comfort each other.

you’d talk about everything. about your thoughts, feelings, worries. you’d talk about the future, about what the best decision was.

you’d talk about what could happen, all the possible scenarios. if you hadn’t decided to keep the baby. if you chose not to, how would it affect you, luigi, the people around you?

and now that you had, how would it affect your life. would you be able to cope? could you really raise a child.

could you handle it? could he?

a lot of the time, you’d end up crying. it would always start with either a small teary eye and a wobbly lip, that would then progress to a shaking lip and shaky breath. then your eyes would tear up, your breathing quickening, and your nose would start to run. then your breath would get heavier, and a few tears would roll down your face.

then it would progress into a full on sobbing, shaking crying fit. and each every time, it would break luigi’s heart.

he’d always talk soothingly, his voice low and steady, as he tried to calm you down. telling you that everything would be okay, that you’d get through it. telling you to breathe, to take deep breaths.

every time, you’d manage to calm down, get yourself back under control. but the conversation would be cut short as a guard would walk to tell luigi his time was up.

and he’d fight back, begging them to give him just a little longer.

but they would always tell him the same thing, in that cold, emotionless tone. “no,” they’d say, crossing their arms. “time is up. she can come back tomorrow if she wants to talk to you again.”

and luigi would sit there and watch helplessly as you were ushered out of the room. he’d watch as you looked back at him one last time, waving as the door closed in front of you.

that was usually the end of it, until tomorrow. and he’d go back to the cell block, and have nothing to keep his mind off the situation as he laid down in his bed. he’d think about you, about the conversation, replaying it over and over again in his head.

then he’d start thinking about the other scenarios again, starting back the whole endless cycle of overthinking. he’d toss and turn throughout the night, never getting a good, restful sleep.

the next day would roll around, and he’d get up. wash up, get changed. have breakfast with the other prisoners. get his daily dose of exercise.

his mind would be racing the entire time, never taking a break from the constant stream of overthinking.

and then the clock would finally hit visiting hours, and he’d be getting led out to the visiting room again. his mind would start to calm down slightly, finally being able to see you again.

then he’d get to the visiting room. sometimes they’d make him wait, for reasons that they wouldn’t disclose. he’d sit there impatiently, tapping his fingers on the floor, tapping his foot, looking around the room. he’d count the minutes as they ticked by, the seconds.

every minute that passed without you being brought in felt like an eternity to him. it was almost as if time became slower, every passing minute dragging by.

then finally, you’d be brought in as well.

and every time, he’d immediately feel a wave of relief wash over him. the constant overthinking in his brain would quiet down, and he’d be able to relax a little bit. you were there. you were with him. he would no longer be alone with just his own thoughts.

but he doesn’t have to tell you that. instead, he sits down across from you, picking up the phone and holding it up to his ear.

he smiles as he does so, trying to stay casual and composed. on the inside, though, he’s feeling happy, relieved. after being alone in silence all day, he feels like he can finally breathe again. seeing you, being able to talk to you, and having you right in front of him.

“hey,” he says into the phone, keeping his tone light. he watches you through the glass, studying you quietly.

he studies you, looking at your facial expressions, listening carefully to your voice. your body language. anything that might give away how you’re feeling right now.

he can tell, from the expression on your face, that you look a little bit more tired. your eyes look sunken in slightly, darker than the last time he saw you. be picks up on the fact that maybe you haven’t been sleeping either.

you open your mouth to speak, “luigi, i…” but you can’t seem to get the words out. you’re not looking him in the eyes.

he sees you struggling to speak, and that gets his attention. he notices that you’re struggling to look him in the eyes, avoiding his gaze. ge frowns, sitting forward in his chair.

“sweetheart?” he prompts gently. “what is it?”

he’s starting to get worried now, and his heart picks up a little bit. the way that you’re avoiding his gaze is off putting, and his frown deepens.

he leans a bit closer, his heart rate increasing slightly. “sweetheart,” he says again. “talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.”

he can feel anxiety building up inside him, his heart rate increasing even more. is something wrong? has something bad happened?

he leans even closer now, staring at you intently. “sweetheart, please.” he says, his voice soft but almost desperate. “say something, please. you’re making me nervous.”

your breathing is heavier than usual, and it’s not like you had to walk up an entire flight of stairs before getting here. you know you have to tell him sooner or later, before it eats you from inside—

“i lost the baby.”

he doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want to accept it.

he swallows again, shaking his head slightly. his hands are curled into fists, shaking ever so slightly. he’s still just trying to process it all. it doesn’t feel real.

he opens his mouth again, and this time manages to say a word. “when?”

“yesterday morning,” you answer, avoiding his gaze, “right before i had to leave for work. it’s been killing me ever since.”

he listens to you speak and closes his eyes, letting the information sink in. he takes a deep, shaky breath.

the day before. you had lost the baby the day before you came to visit him. you had come here, talked to him, and the whole time, you had lost the baby already.

and you never said a thing.

he feels a wave of anger wash over him, but he tries his best to push it down. you’re not at fault for miscarrying. but not telling him, and waiting until now? for a second, he feels betrayed.

he opens his eyes and looks at you, staring you down almost coldly. “you should’ve told me yesterday.”

there’s a harsh, bitter tone to his voice. he doesn’t want to take it out on you, he knows it’s not your fault, but he can’t help himself.

“you came here and talked to me, and the whole time you were keeping this from me? why didn’t you say anything?”

“… i’m sorry.” that’s all you say. you’re feeling a mix of emotions — shame (towards yourself), embarrassment, guilt, sadness, grief. it’s hard for him to read your expression, but you’re not letting him do that at all. you drop the telephone, burying your face in your hands.

he tries to read you, he tries to figure out what you’re thinking, but he can’t see your face. you’ve covered it with your hands, so all he can see is the top of your head. he sits back, staring at you.

he wants to respond, to say something, but he can’t. that wave of anger has been snuffed out by the sight of you, hiding your face with your hands. now he just feels guilty for snapping at you.

for a few moments, he just sits there. watching you.

his eyes are fixed on you, watching as you sit there with your head in your hands. he can’t see your face, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re crying.

the realization suddenly hits him like a truck; here you were, telling him you had lost the baby just now. and you’d been sitting on that information for a whole day.

you’d come here, and sat here for an entire conversation not telling him, while you were hurting.

he feels a rush of guilt and anger again, a sense of betrayal. but he pushes it down. he swallows hard, trying to keep his voice steady.

“… how long were you planning on not telling me?” He asks, his eyes on you, his voice quieter now. the anger is less intense. more hurt and betrayal. “were you ever gonna tell me?”

his heart is pounding again now. he sits forward in his seat, clenching his hand into a fist in his lap.

“what— what were you thinking?” he asks, still keeping his voice soft. “you come here, you talk to me for hours, and you don’t say anything? why? why did you do that, sweetheart?”

his voice breaks slightly on the pet name.

he feels like he wants to break down right along with you, the emotion of the situation hitting him like a freight train. but he pushes that down, keeping it in. He can’t break down, he has to stay calm.

he doesn’t know what to feel. anger at you for not telling him, guilt for snapping, grief at what has happened. it’s a mix of everything.

he’s staring right in your eyes. “come on, look at me.”

“i…” you struggle to find your voice in all of this. why did you hesitate to tell him? he’s the only person who knew you were pregnant, and you didn’t tell him a thing.

“… fuck, it was hard for me to tell you. i was planning on contacting karen to tell you. you think it’s easy for me to show up here and tell you this while i promised you a life if you’ll ever get out of here?”

luigi almost looks wounded by that part. he swallows hard, frowning deeply. you promised me.

that promise plays in his head like a record, the same memory on loop. he lets out a harsh exhale, his heart sinking. he knows you meant it, that you’d meant every word.

and yet you were struggling to tell him this.

he swallows again, trying to push down the hurt. “so you thought it would be easier to let my lawyer tell me?”

the idea of that is infuriating. he’d been sitting here, worrying about you, worrying about what you were thinking and how you were feeling, and you’d been planning on letting his lawyer tell him.

he can’t help the cold tone to his voice. “is that your idea of keeping a promise?”

he looks down for a moment, shaking his head. when he looks back up, his expression is intense, his eyes almost pleading.

“you should have told me yesterday,” he says, his voice almost desperate. “i don’t care if it would have been hard, i don’t care if it would have hurt to tell me. you should have told me, no matter what.”

there’s a sense of desperation to his voice, a sense of hurt. part of him wants to snap again, to lash out at you for not telling him, for going with his lawyer.

“you don’t get to break that promise and then say it was too hard for you to tell me,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. “you made that promise, sweetheart. you made it and then you want to let my lawyer take care of it for you.”

he’s never felt so frustrated before, so hurt. the idea of karen telling him, when he’d been worrying about it this whole time, when he’d wanted so badly to ask you if you were okay.

he leans forward again, getting as close to the glass as he can. “you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to take back that promise because it was hard to tell me.”

“i’m sorry, alright?” you apologize once again, rubbing your forehead with one hand while the other had a tight grip on the phone, “i’m a shitty person for not telling you about the baby, and for your wanting to break the news to your lawyer, not you.”

he can’t help but feel a little bit hurt by that, but he shakes it off, trying to push down the feeling. he lets out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head.

“i’m not saying that,” he says, his voice softer now. “you’re not shitty, alright? you’re not shitty, you understand?”

he takes a deep breath, his fingers tapping on the countertop. “but you can’t just break a promise and then think that karen’s going to fix it for you.”

“fine, okay, i acknowledge my mistake.” you fidget in your seat, “let’s just change the subject. it’s like I can feel my breakfast coming back up.”

he almost wants to argue more, to keep pressing and keep questioning, but then he sees the way you’re fidgeting, and his expression softens.

he almost scoffs at your sudden attempt at a change of subject, but he stops himself. he just nods instead, giving you a slight smile. “alright. whatever you want, sweetheart.”

it’s hard for him to just change the subject that easily, to just brush it aside and stop talking about it. he’s still upset about it, and he has a lot of things he wants to say.

but the expression on your face and the way you’d started fidgeting just reminded him that he can’t be selfish.

“what do you want to talk about?” he asks gently.

you shrug, trying to think of something.

“do you still have that ring i gave you?”

he perks up a little bit at your question, and he almost laughs. he’s surprised by the change of subject, but he’s grateful for it as well. he nods, reaching into his pocket and pulling it out.

“of course i do, sweetheart,” he says, holding it up to show you through the glass. “you think i would get rid of it?”

“i thought you must’ve traded it in for some money by now. i wouldn’t have blamed you, y’know.”

he can’t help but smile at that, shaking his head. “nah, i would never get rid of it,” he says, holding it up closer to the glass. “this thing means more to me than money, sweetheart. and besides, even if i did trade it for money, i’d use that money to call you.”

you smile. “aw, well, aren’t you thoughtful.”

he laughs at that and shakes his head a little. he can’t help but smile as he looks at you.

“i’m thoughtful? i’m the one being thoughtful?” he asks, grinning at you. “you were the one giving me the ring in the first place,” he points out, holding up the ring to show you again as if he’s displaying the evidence.

“i’m just making good use of it,” he says, twirling the ring between his fingers with a smirk. he knows this is just a way to distract away from the original subject, but he can’t help but play along.

this feels easier to deal with. just talking to you normally, like nothing happened. he almost wishes he could reach through the glass and take your hand.

“you know, the guys in here have been on my case non-stop,” he says suddenly, a lighthearted tone to his voice. “they keep calling me an idiot for not trading it in for money. they say i could’ve bought a whole candy bar with the money from that ring. one whole candy bar.”

you chuckle at his words, amused by how the inmates have been teasing him. “yeah? They tell you that?”

he laughs a little as well, leaning back in his chair now. “yeah. constantly. they also wanted to know why i bothered keeping it when i wasn’t even sure if i was gonna keep seeing you or not.”

he glances down at the ring in his palm, twirling it again. “i just told ‘em they were all morons.”

“i mean, come on, a chocolate bar or my love?” he asks, grinning at you. “seems like an obvious choice to me.”

You raise an eyebrow, “i’m your love now?”

“my love, my sweetheart, my darling, my baby,” he says, listing off all the pet names he’s used for you. “do you need me to keep going?”

“i think i’m good.”

he grins at your response, leaning forward a little. “you don’t need any clarification on that one, huh?”

he’s a little quieter now, but his voice still has that flirty edge to it. “you know i love you,” he says softly, a loving little smile on his face.

it feels a little surreal to sit here talking to you like this. to say these things to you without anyone else listening in, without anyone else around.

he wishes he could hold your face between his hands. he wishes he could wrap his arms around you, pull you close, and kiss you on the forehead.

but he can’t, so he just speaks quietly to you instead, the ring still in his hand.

“wish i could do more than just talk to you like this,” he whispers, sighing a little. he glances around the visiting room, checking on all the guards and other visitors. no one is paying attention to you two.

“wish i could just take you on dates, take you out to dinner and the movies and whatever else you wanted,” he says, turning his eyes back to you. “just be a normal couple doing normal relationship things, y’know?”

he laughs a little, but there’s a hint of frustration to it. why did everything have to be so impossible for the two of you?

“we could’ve had a nice place together by now, and you wouldn’t have to keep coming here, just to talk for a few hours,” he says, shaking his head.

he glances around the visiting room again, taking in all the other visitors and inmates meeting with their friends and families.

“instead we…” he trails off, sighing again. what else could he say. Instead we’re here, stuck with whatever this is.

he looks back at you, letting out a sharp exhale. he wants so desperately just to be with you. to hold you, kiss you. to hold your face in his hands and whisper sweet words against your ear.

all he wants is to be allowed to love you, but the world won’t let him.

“you look tired,” he remarks suddenly, noticing the dark circles under your eyes, the way you’re fidgeting in your seat.

he wonders if you’ve slept at all since yesterday. he can’t imagine that you have.

“i’m fine,” you assure luigi, “i’ll be fine.”

he gives you a skeptical look, but doesn’t press the issue. he can tell just by looking at you that you’re exhausted, and he can see that stubborn determination in your expression.

he doubts he could convince you to take care of yourself even if he tried.

TAG LIST

@ga33y3 @icedchailattebabyy @betty-boop-lips-05 @harrysbestiee @badaspice @tsukishimawhore @guatebabyxo @poohkie90 @lousends @mailuvsnct @raekensluver @nosebeers @techno54 @lolarmy72 @planetsheher @ixdoll

[act2drama]

Also, I feel the need to point out that the final ghost's ultimate lesson isn't just "no one will mourn you after you die". It's not even "everyone already hates you so they won't miss you when you're gone". It's so so much worse than that. Not only does no one mourn Scrooge, they are actively glad that he's dead. Not only does no one mourn Scrooge, they are only interested in his death insofar as they wonder what's going to happen to his money. Not only does no one mourn Scrooge, they immediately seek to gather whatever profit they can from his death, including literally stripping his corpse in order to sell the clothes he was set to be buried in. Scrooge has already changed by the time the last ghost comes along, to the point where he can finally even begin to see the extent of the awfulness that his obsession with gaining wealth has brought: that even after his death, it's quite literally all anyone would ever associate with him and they would go to such objectively awful means to parse even a little of his wealth into their own pockets. The final ghost's visit isn't just about what happens to Scrooge after he dies, it's about the totality of what his life and death have wrought on others, turning them into thieves, corpse-robbers, and "magpies" who are just as cold-hearted and unempathetic as he has been; the only glint of light he has offered to him are the Cratchits who are as just as kind as ever...but who are now all but broken because of the death of Tiny Tim. And it's now (in this future) too late for Scrooge to help any of them by honest means which is clearly what he wants to do. Anyone who thinks the Scrooge of the beginning of the book would have wanted to help anyone worse off than himself clearly wasn't paying attention.

Scrooge isn't "scared straight" by the final ghost; the final ghost just hammers home the lessons he's been being taught ever since Marley showed up in his room: first through Marley's warning of what's currently awaiting him after death, then through the "pageant of ghosts" where he can see the anguish of the dead who are unable to provide any aid or comfort to the living (and gee, I wonder if that particular piece imagery gains any further significance later on...), then the Ghost of Christmas Past reminding him that there was a time before money ruled his life and what it cost him to start down that path, then the Ghost of Christmas Present who shows him that, to put it bluntly, wealth doesn't equate to happiness (Fred and Clara live modestly but are happy, the Cratchits live in poverty but are happy) but also reminds him of the responsibility those who have wealth bear towards those who don't and, along with Ignorance and Want, warns of the potential cost of avoiding that responsibility. The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come shows him that future, the future of Scrooge continuing to ignore his social responsibilities to others and the pain and suffering it will bring, not just to himself but all those his life and outlook has touched and further shows him the cost of waiting until it's far too late to do anything about these things to realise it, bringing the whole experience full-circle back to Marley's warning and all the ghosts Scrooge saw afterwards. The difference is that Scrooge is now in a position to recognise the warning for what it is: not a threat or an attempt at scaring him (which is what he believed when Marley first appeared), but an opportunity and call to change. One piece of that puzzle on its own is not enough to make him change; he needs to see the whole picture.

"Scrooge only changed because he saw how nobody mourned him after his death" NO NO NO NO. You don't get it! The last spirit only worked because of the spirits that came before softening him up! If the spirits had shown him dead and ungrieved only it would not work. As the night goes on amid the visits Scrooge is already visibly changing. He's different after the first spirit and even more so after the second. And it's because of how much he's already changed that the final spirit is able to succeed

[abbyslovergirlxo]

Same Damn Time

Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader x Ambessa Medarda

tw; Dom!Ambessa, Dom!Caitlyn, sub!reader, rough sex but they’re not so mean towards the end, wlw, sadism (cait/bessa), choking, slapping (everywhere lol), knife usage, blood kink??,masochism (you🫵) , crying, reader has a mouth on her and then folds (typical😒), idk why i made cait psychotic but oh well, oral, degradation, crumbs of praise lmao,

Word count: 7.8k

… = time skip

a/n; whewww! like what can I even say, this fic is crazy asl. Like I actually think they’re gonna bring back stoning people just for this. Lowkey deserved. But I know there’s someone out there who’s gonna match my freak 😭 i had tooo much fun writing this while listening to the song, made me think of them 😩lots of tw!! so plz read that before scrolling!!! I feel like this is something you’re either really going to love or really going to hate sooo idk. Also I was literally fixated on Sevika/Ambessa and one edit drove me to madness so here we are, getting double teamed by Commander Kiramman and General Merdarda 😩 They’re both evil twins in this but Caitlyn is the more evil twin but no seriously read the tw…. anyways enough of my my rumbling, this fic is long enough lol.

Your ear shot up, body reacting involuntarily to the large grey door opening. Heavy echoing footsteps, hushed whispers, and then a closed door.

“ This is the one?”

The judgemental tone would’ve sent you spiralling, had you been anywhere else. But menacing glares and sharp words would do little for you here. The lights were dim, unfavorably so, only illuminating distinctly right above your chair that you sat in.

Their voices held unyielding authority. Everyone from topside did to be fair but something about these two gave away their status. Their faces were shielded slightly, your eyes squinting in an attempt to see who they were. That attempt was shot down, the small space of darkness they stood in protecting them.

You cursed yourself for not having been smarter that day, faster. For if you had been, you’d never know what the inside of Stillwater’s interrogation room looked like.

“ Yes, General. My enforcers found her near one of Jinx’s old hideouts. From the items that were taken from her we can safely say this one knows something. She knows Jinx. My men attempted to speak to her a couple of days ago but nothing came of it.”

You thought back to the ‘men’ who questioned you, hammered you with prompts that you refused to answer. The bruises on your back proved how badly they wanted to know but you never relented.

“ I don’t know anything.” A lie. A clear one. Both of the women ignored you, tossing back and forth bits of information. You tugged at the shiny metal cuffs, now wishing you’d taken Vi up on those lock picking lessons. I’m so fucked, you thought to yourself. The room was a bit cold and you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion when they snatched you. So, somberly you shook a little, giving up on listening to whatever they were saying.

You weren’t going to rat. You knew that much.

Your head was hung when you heard them get closer to you. Not bothering to look up, you heard two chairs groan from being pulled, until they sat down from what you assumed.

“ Name?”

Finally you peered up. Your expression faltered for a second, not expecting the sight in front of you. Their outfits clashed and blended seamlessly all at once. One sat in an all black attire, her long blue hair hanging down. The other was engrossed in clads of gold and red.

Sitting right across from you, they both had menacing glares. Well, the glares you expected. Not quite the faces. Shamefully you imagined seeing them somewhere else, maybe in The Last Drop? The younger, sharp features and pinched eyes, looked at you with a particularly hateful look. That didn’t bother you though, she was as intimidating as the drunk men you’d fought with in the undercity. Pretty though, you thought. The other one was a different story entirely.

She was tall, you could tell from how she towered even sitting down. Something about her was elegant. But she looked dangerous. Growing up it was quite necessary to assess who you could and couldn’t take on, and the moment your eyes locked with hers, you knew. The scars on her face also gave way to what she was capable of. She was a problem, even if her stare wasn’t as heinous as the woman beside her.

“ Name?” She pressed. Her voice was calm but she didn’t look like someone who didn’t know how to raise it.

“ I don’t know anything. I don’t even know who Jinx is.”

The blue haired girl scoffed, clearly unimpressed. Her companion remained analytical of you.

“ You’re a terrible liar.” Her voice came off unforgiving and brutal. You’d be lying (again) if you said you weren’t slightly offended. But you kept a neutral face, ignoring her.

“Listen, this doesn’t have to be rough. How this goes depends entirely on you, you choose. We know you know Jinx. We know that you know something. The information you have is quite important to me,”

The older woman paused for a split second, her stare unwavering and promising. She looked over to the younger one before looking back at you.

“ to us. So we’re leaving this room with something, I can assure you that. But I can also assure you that if you help us, we will help you.”

Her voice was smooth, like wine. Well according to what people say about wine, you’d never had it. She was firm in her words, almost as if she herself knew the power behind her promise. That would’ve reassured you had it not been for the fact that she was after your fucking friends.

You looked between the two of them again, assessing the scene in front of you over and over. You were unimpressed, if you were being honest, something you hadn’t been since these cuffs first touched your wrist. Sure, you could tell they meant business but this was futile as an interrogation tactic.

Good cop, bad cop?

While the older wasn’t exactly nice, you expected a missing eye, pulled nails and burnt skin. What you weren’t expecting was two, unfortunately attractive, topside pigs to do a century old method. If anything they should’ve switched, you thought to yourself.

Maybe then they’d get somewhere.

“ Still don’t know who Jinx is or why I’m here.”

“ You’re lying, again. And protecting a known fanatic and criminal. Tell us where we can find Jinx.”

You furrowed your brows, annoyed with her insults and claims. Who is she to tell you that were lying? Well, you were of course. But regardless, the tone in the blue eyed woman before you made you unsettled.

“ I’m not lying.” You gritted out. “ I’ve been detained wrongfully. You’re wasting your time. I don’t know anything.”

“ Yes, you do.” Her voice was firm, final. You scowled at her, but it was nothing in comparison to how she looked at you. Constantly her jaw flexed, on edge and angry. But she had no right to be angry in your mind, after all you were the one chained to a table being talked at rather than talked to. Secretly you wished for the older woman to speak again, at least she wasn’t such a bitch.

“ Are they your friends? Is that it? Because I promise you that we will find Jinx, it will just be a whole lot messier without your help. I don’t mind that. But I’m sure you will.”

You fought the urge to wipe that domineering tone and look off her face. You’re never going to find Jinx! You’re nothing but a power hungry topsider who doesn’t know the first thing about friends! I’m not telling you shit. Was what you wanted to say. But instead,

“ I don’t know Jinx or whatever else you people plan on asking me. Like I said, you. are. wasting. your. time.”

You put emphasis on each word, tired of repeating yourself. But to your un-satisfaction she rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“ Look… I shouldn’t be here. I can’t give you anything because I don’t kno—“

“ Right.” She cut you off, so obviously tired of your insistent lying, even in the short minutes. “And you’re not an undercity animal.”

“ And you’re not a topside pig.”

In all fairness it came out before you could stop it. You weren’t used to being talked to like this and keeping quiet, it almost came out of pure instinct. But if you were surprised by your words you didn’t show it one bit, a small smile almost playing on your lips.

Her nostrils flared slightly, her breathing elevating. For a moment you thought she’d explode before the other woman spoke.

“ Kiramman.”

You memorized the name, not sure if it’d be useful later once you escaped but just in case. She simply collected herself, nodding at the woman who she called ‘General’. Maybe this is where you went wrong, your natural element slipping out, your ego on its way to arriving.

“ You should learn to control yourself, ya know… during interrogations and such.”

“ Shut your mouth.” It was harsh and whispered. This is when you should’ve stopped but you didn’t.

“ You must be new, since you need a supervisor to help you.”

“ Shut it.”

“ You guys have nothing on me. You’re fucking desperate. I’m n—“

Mistakenly you were so focused on Kiramman that you hadn’t been prepared for the harsh grab of your chin. It was quick, unbelievably fast and that scared you more than anything. The strength of which she used to crush your face also attributed to the pit in your stomach.

“ You’ve chosen miserably.”

Her voice was meaner now, she talked as if you were nothing. Like you were stupid. Instantly you regretted wishing for her presence.

Embarrassingly you struggled against her trying to pry away but it was useless. She effortlessly held you there, your cheeks red with humiliation and anger. You tried to ignore the victorious face planted on Kiramman.

“ She said shut your mouth so you shouldn’t be doing anything but that.”

“ Thought you w-wanted me to talk, which one is it?”

You half expected her to break your jaw or lash out like the woman beside her. Instead she remained calm, eerily calm. Anyone with such strength and patience was someone who got what they wanted. But, you weren’t going to talk, you reminded yourself.

She pulled you closer, not without the rebellious tug from you. Silently she analyzed you, staring into your eyes painstakingly long. You squirmed and averted your gaze. She let you go with a ‘hmph’.

“ She won’t talk, not like this.”

The blue haired girl whipped her head towards her, then back to you, a blue fire blazing in her eyes. From the short time they’d been in the room it was clear the older woman held a higher position, authority oozing from her undoubtedly. But now you noticed something dark about the Kiramman that you should have picked up on before.

She was angry, unreasonably so. There was something constantly threatening to set off inside of her.

“ Everyone talks. There has to be something that’ll make her.”

The General hummed. “ I agree, but not like this. She’s loyal to them and she’s prepared for a cell if not this. She’s attempting to use our anger to distract us. She needs something else.”

The goosebumps from the cold air became accompanied by ones born from anxiety. Your mind went into a dark place, worried you’d never leave Stillwater. What if they starved you? Kept you locked in some cell as your body slowly decayed while you still lived? True fear found its way to you for the first time, the unknown overwhelming.

Kiramman seemed to hold back a sigh, instead taking a moment to actually listen to her superior's words. You couldn’t tell what she was thinking but from the firm nod she let off to the General, you knew it wasn’t in your favor. The grey haired woman stood now, making your heart race. Desperately you tugged at the chain once more, attempting to repeat your overdone line.

“ Look, I really don’t know anything.” Ignored.

The blue haired girl remained seated, leaned back slightly, watching silently as the older woman walked around the table. She walked to you with a certain prowess about her. She was taller than you’d expected, to your dismay. You refused to look at her when she was finally standing beside you, face aimed at the grey table.

You pinched your eyes waiting to be hit, choked maybe, or stabbed if they didn’t mind the mess. Your breathing raised as you tried to silently comfort yourself through whatever pain soon awaited. You held back a flinch when you felt large hands pulling at your chains.

It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. Fuck.

*clink*

You snapped your eyes open, seeing your handcuffs now undone.

“ Stand up.”

You took in a breath, silently grateful that you hadn’t been harmed. You stood now, relieved. At least whatever they were going to do wasn’t happening in the now you thought. You looked towards the giant closed metal door, expecting your arm to be snatched as she led you to your dark cell. But to your surprise she simply spoke again.

“ On the table.”

You looked between the two of them.

You shook your head, not even at them, it just shook. No way in hell were you going to lay down on some metal table while these two psychopaths did whatever they wanted to you. You weren’t exactly happy about the bruises that already resided there, definitely not hoping for extras.

“ …No.”

You hadn’t wished to say it but you couldn’t bring yourself to willingly place your body on that table before they hurt you.

“ You misunderstand the situation. You’ve chosen already. So get on the table.”

You didn’t choose shit. That’s what you wanted to shout, to scream at them until your bones betrayed you. A million emotions rushed through your head, clenching and unclenching your hands. Instead you remained silent and unmoving, your refusal to acknowledge was saying ‘no’ in its own way.

“ Fucking impossible…”

You didn’t even have a moment to react to the words before you were pulled. A grunt left your mouth as your hair was gripped painfully. Anger coursed through you upon seeing the black uniform in your peripheral. You used your now free hands to try and pry her hands from you but she only gripped impossibly tighter, your scalp beginning to burn. She was swifter than you’d imagined she’d be, strong too, grabbing both of your hands with one, pinning them. This somehow was worse than cuffs.

“ Fucki— let me go!”

Ignored. Why did they ignore everything?

“ Where do you want her?”

Her General's eyebrows raised, but you didn’t see surprise. Not even disappointment. Content, maybe? You didn’t put it past her.

“ Let's put her on her back to start.”

She moved without question or affirmation. Irritation was clear across your face now, upset at the stinging that wasn’t letting up on your scalp. But clearly the woman behind you didn’t care, roughly forcing you onto the table. She wasn’t as tall as her companion but she was taller than you and it wasn’t an advantage on your part. The force behind her movements were unsettling, you hadn’t thought she was powerless at first glance, but her grip on you was unnerving compared to what you thought she was capable of.

The cold metal wasn’t welcoming. It felt like a million needles were puncturing your skin causing you to shudder. Your tank top strap had fallen off your shoulder amidst the struggle, close enough to slipping down making you wish your hands were free.

“ Give me her wrist.”

They swiftly transferred your hands, the Generals grip matching hers but you could tell there was more strength to be given behind it. You didn’t want to imagine her really trying to squeeze you. The cuffs you were free from moments ago encased you again, and you didn't miss the two extra notches she clicked causing your bone to shift uncomfortably with the metal. You scowled.

“ It’s too fucking tight.”

Not even a pitied glance, nothing. Ignored. Again. You shifted your wrist again, overwhelmed and upset. And this bitch is still gripping my hair, using her other hand to keep your shoulder on the table casually. So easily, and that made you feel vulnerable, helpless. And your now restrained hands weren’t helping, the slight burn making something in your throat want to creep up but you wouldn’t dare allow it, deciding to instead take it out on them.

“ Let go of my hair, you bi–”

You hissed, the stinging sensation pulsating across your cheek. It wouldn’t leave a bruise but you damn sure felt it.

“ Mind your tongue.”

The General ignored the glare you sent her straight from hell, instead taking off her jacket revealing a dark sleeveless sort of top. You couldn’t begin to imagine or decipher the detailing of it, topsiders always dressed too flashy in your opinion, too stuck up. Her arms were as big as you'd thought. Both being ridiculed with scars.

Then, another sharp crack resounded through the dark room, a quick punishing tug to your scalp. This one would unfortunately leave a bruise. You could tell. You didn’t hiss this time, too stunned, on the verge of groaning from the way she used your hair as a plaything.

“ What she said.”

Kiramman finally let go of your hair, the residue of her strength still pounding through your head. You tried to sit up but she instead used both of her hands to hold you down. With only your legs to move, you kicked but the General shut that down as soon as it started. Effortlessly she used only one hand to keep them pinned down, now looking over you and at Kiramman.

What now? You thought. Cut my skin until I fess up? Break my bones until I don’t have any? Beat me bloody while I lie on this cold table? Are they going to kill me when this is all over, when I don’t say anything? I’m going to die here, aren’t I? I’m going to die and nobody’s gonna know.

It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. I can take it. I can take it.

Eyes suddenly squeezed shut, recited echoes of wishful thinking, a scratchy throat. You braced yourself.

“ Last chance. Tell us where we can find Jinx and I’ll send you back to your cell. Untouched.”

Your voice came out a little exasperated, anxiety and anger laced into it. You kept your eyes shut.

“ I don’t know who Jinx is so I can’t tell you that. I don’t know anything.”

Your shoulder crushed more into the table, pale hands squeezing.

“ You continue to choose stupidity, insolence. No more of that.”

Suddenly the grip on your legs were let go and you opened your eyes. She was still at the head of the table staring down at you. For a moment you considered kicking again but as if she read your mind…

“ Kick me and I will break every bone in your knee.”

Her tone wasn’t intimidating, demeaning absolutely, but not intimidating. The certainty in her voice made you throw away any ideas of using your legs. You liked your knees to say the least. You peered straight up to see an upside version of Kiramman, her long blue hair creating a shadow around her neck, her jawline distinct. Even without seeing her face, only the outline of lips and nose, the anger radiated off her body.

“ What now?”

The General looked over you, straight at her.

“ We’ll need to take her pants off for the next part.”

You and Kiramman spoke at the same time.

“ Wait, what? My pants?” �� Her pants?”

The older woman simply gave a one word reply, meant to supply both of you with a firm answer, ‘yes’.

“ Wait, wait.”

She looked down at you, eyebrows raised.

“ Do you remember something about Jinx? Something you’d like to tell us?”

You listened to the flickering sound coming from the light above you. One by one you let them pop into your head. Jinx, long blue hair and wild face as she hugged you. Vi, stuffing her favorite foodsin your face. Isha, making paper airplanes with you. For a moment you thought a tear might slip but it didn’t. You drew in a shaky breath, ignoring the sting on your wrist.

“ No. I don’t know anything. I just…”

You averted your gaze.

“ Is it going to hurt?”

A stupid question in your mind. No doubt torture hurts. But something in you needed to ask, needing some sort of certainty in what was to come.

“ That depends on you entirely. I’ll give you pain when you give me insolence. But when you give me answers, I’ll give you… ”

She suddenly ghosted a hand over your calf.

“ Relief.”

You shuddered a little, her graze unexpected. But you didn’t dare move your leg, not wanting to test what qualified as a kick to her. You didn’t want to imagine what she meant by relief, because it couldn’t mean that. It couldn’t mean that.

“ How does that sound?”

“ It sounds like I have nothing else to say to you.”

She hummed. Without another word she slipped her large hands in your waistband, pulling them down to your ankles. You wanted them back the second your bare thigh touched the cold metal. A click echoed and you looked to see a blade in her hand, small in size but formidable in design. Gold snakes seemed to embroider its handle. You sucked in a harsh breath at the sight, your eyes locked on it.

Your eyes flicked up at the blue haired woman, her position now changed so that you could see her face again. Her eyes almost beamed? For the first time an expression other than anger displayed itself on her features. Now she looked almost… pleased. Excited.

It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. I can take it. I can take it. I can take it. Hopefully.

You ignored the last words, watching as the General kept her eyes trained on your plump thighs. Opening them, she traced it right on the inside of it. Immediately you could tell it was sharp. Too sharp. It was cold against your skin, not as harsh as the table but unforgiving nonetheless. Anticipation rushed through you. Hands clenched within its restraints, the light flickering and flickering, her soft hands on your shoulder, icy metal on your skin, her hand slipping onto your thigh and then….

“ Ngnh!”

Your head pressed into the metal slightly. You’d have been embarrassed by your whimper if it wasn’t for the sudden warm drip down your thigh. Blood, you assumed. You’d been through worse but you still squirmed at the cut now adorned on your skin. She pushed down on your thigh, not fond of your squirming. Then she continued, tracing the blade across your thigh, waiting until your body finally relaxed, stopping itself from that state of bracing. And right when you did, she’d swipe a quick line across your shaky, burning legs. Always between your thighs, always.

It felt like electricity was rushing through you, it was all so overwhelming. You felt like you were being swallowed alive and they had barely done anything. The cuts burned and sent a rush of pain through your nerves and skin. Everytime you looked at Kiramman her face was becoming alive with intoxication. It’s like she couldn’t pull her eyes away, trained on the way your leg wobbled under her General’s hand, how you whimpered lowly, the light trace of blood on the expensive blade. You jolted again, particularly harder this time.

“ Relax. It's just a little cut, you're a big girl.”

It continued like this. You tried your best to stifle the whimpers coming from your mouth. The last thing you wanted was for them to hear what they were doing to you. Over and over she painted your thighs with your own crimson, and it hurt. It hurt, it did. And that's all it should be.

But your stomach kept getting that feeling. It burned, like the surface level cuts she gave you. It burned every time her calloused finger swiped across your sliced skin, collecting blood. It burned when she smiled suddenly, as if proud of her work. And it was scalding when you looked up and saw those blue eyes entranced. But it wasn’t pain. It wasn’t…anger. It was something else. Something that made you want to release that feeling in your throat, made you wish she meant something ungodly when she offered relief.

“ What's this?”

Your skin was hot to the touch now, sweaty. Trembling slightly, you looked up at her. For a moment you couldn’t begin to imagine what she was referring to until you traced her eyes. You silently prayed that it wasn’t what you thought. But from the way she asked, you knew.

“ What is it?”

Kiramman asked, curiosity clear in her voice. The older woman smirked, staring down at the wet spot in your panties.

“ It seems her body is more honest than she is. I think our little prisoner likes this. Her panties say so at least.”

Your face burned so hot that it rivaled the sun itself. You considered saying something, protesting and denying it. But what was the point? It did feel good, the burn felt good. And she had the evidence right in front of her. You couldn’t meet either of their gazes, looking to the side in shame. Kiramman laughed, the vibrations reaching you through her touch.

“ I knew it, she was whimpering like a dog. Isn’t that right?”

You shook your head, still refusing to look. But she wasn’t having it, using one of her hands to pull your chin. Even upside down, she looked menacing. She forced eye contact. Her face was rampant with mocking undertones, sadistic glares.

“ Is that why you’ve been so rude? You wanted us to give you a little pain, show you a good time? You really are pathetic.”

“ That’s not tr– n-ngh!”

A stinging pain after a quick slap to your clothed cunt made you whimper louder than anytime the blade touched you. It felt like a live wire tapping your skin, your legs snapping shut. The wet spot in your panties grew, your breathing uneven.

“ Insolence. Tell the truth.”

I can’t. You thought. Telling them that you’d enjoyed it, even a tiny bit, seemed more daunting suddenly than ratting.

“ I’m not ly– f-fuck…”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever be allowed to finish a sentence, her hand opening your legs followed by another slap coming down. Your eyes fluttered for a moment, your face squeezing with pain and pleasure. Kiramman used the hand she never removed to guide you. A smile was now on her lips, wide with genuine amusement.

“ Oh god, did you just… moan? You really are something aren’t you? Is that what it’s going to take? A few more slaps to your cunt and you’ll be blabbering? Or maybe…”

She lowered herself, close enough that her hair brushed against your face. You whined again, another unsuspecting smack from the older woman. You hadn’t even done anything, she just liked the way your panties got damper with each hit. Kiramman almost thanked her for it, relishing in hearing the noise even closer. She whispered to you.

“ If I make you cum enough times you’ll remember something. I bet you’d like that, letting a… what was it that you called me…a topside pig make your cunt cry?”

Finally, you gave way to the ache in your throat. A tear fell down your face suddenly. Another burning sensation forming in your stomach at the feeling of the General toying with the rim of your panties.

“ Please…”

It was quiet, almost matching the decibels of the wind. But you knew she’d heard it. It was obvious from how her grin widened, her eyes looking like ones of a deranged woman.

“ Please what? Please…make me cum? Please…let me go? Please fucking what?”

In this small moment of time, you almost felt like you were watching your dignity physically leave your body. You imagined telling her to let you go, that you didn’t know anything and a few cuts to your legs wasn’t going to change that. And you considered it, over and over. Then something played in your mind, a sick fantasy woven in desperation. In it, you asked her what you really wanted to. And in it they kissed you until you couldn’t breathe, made you finish until you didn’t know how to walk. You considered both. But only one of them made your core ache with desire. Your eyes were even glossier now. Suddenly you were working yourself up for a new kind of courage.

I can take it. I can take it. I can take it.

“ Make me cum please.”

“ Please who?”

I can take it.

“ Please, Kiramman.”

“ That’s it. Finally something coming out of your mouth other than horseshit. But you still need some manners…”

The grip that had left your ears ringing suddenly came back, her pale fingers peeking through your hair. She pulled your head up, forcing you to look at the General. You groaned, arms thrashing slightly, the sting of the metal never relenting.

“ I’m not the only one here. Go ahead, ask General Merdarda too.”

You gritted your teeth. This was already humiliating, and she was just reveling in it. Your legs were already spread, panties damp, dried crimson on your skin, hands bound above your stomach. You’d already asked, multiple times. And now you had to say it again, with a death-like grip on your hair and those hazel eyes peering at you, awaiting.

“ …but I already asked y—“

The slap was even stronger this time , the force of it driving your body insane. Merdarda grinned at you, even laughing a little at the noise you made. Another tear fell down your cheek but Kiramman was quick to wipe it. Right before she licked her finger.

“ But you didn’t ask me.”

If she slapped your cunt again you’d probably start grinding against the table, somehow making you look more pathetic than you do right now. So you gave in.

“ P-Please General Merdarda, will…”

I’m never speaking about this if I get out of here.

“…Will you please make me cum?”

“ Well would you look at that, that’s all you had to say little one. But what do we get in return? Surely you can’t expect us to make you cum with nothing given back.”

“ …But…I already said I don’t know anything.”

Kiramman scoffed.

“ Even after you soak your panties from a little cut, you still have the ability to lie. I’m almost impressed.”

She let your head drop back onto the table.

“ Almost.”

….

For a second you thought she’d kiss them.

At first glance it seemed so, her soft lips trailed over the red raised wounds, her nose spilling cold air on them. You reveled in it, an ember threatening to go a blaze within you. That was until she nipped at it, a hiss leaving your mouth. You couldn’t see her smile but you felt it sweeping across the throbbing skin. You cursed under your breath, the force behind her bite growing more rabid. She slapped the thigh she wasn’t ravaging, quick and harsh.

“ You like that, don’t you?”

There that voice was again, smooth and sultry. You weren’t sure if she was referencing the strike on your leg or her roaming fingers but murmured yes anyway. Yes to all of it. She had your shirt hitched up, breast exposed. Every once and awhile she’d toy with them, trace an outline around your nipple, wait and then pinch. So often though she found herself distracted, your features giving away how desperate you were.

Merdarda found enjoyment in watching your contort every time Kiramman did something to you, anything to you really. You were like a tight coiled spring, threatening to snap at any given moment. It's like every touch has you ready to risk everything. And you learned quickly they were into this a little more than you, mania clear across their faces. You were trembling, Kiramman taking advantage of how sensitive your legs were.

“ C’mere.”

You felt a little dizzy, seeing her lift her head up from between your legs. She grabbed your cuffed hands, pulling you up to meet her face. It all happened so fast and you winced from the strain in your shoulders. She was closer now and it was just now that you noticed the traces of blood on her lips. You hadn’t expected a kiss this time around, but it happened. It wasn’t gentle, if anything it felt like she was trying to cannibalize you with her tongue. Shamefully you pushed against her, sick to your stomach at how good she tasted. Hints of copper on your tastebuds, her wandering hands. She pulled back, being sure to bite your lip before doing so.

“ You taste that? It’s you.”

She dropped her eyes to your thighs, licking over her lips once more. A trance almost seemed to describe the hunger behind her stare, but you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care either way, you just wanted her to do whatever was on her mind to you and soon.

“ fucking delicious.”

The whispered lust in her voice rivaled the reaction brought out from Medardas heavy hands.

“ You should taste her General. She’s sweeter than that filthy mouth of hers.”

Wordlessly, she captured your lips next. Her movements were more experienced, methodical and you felt as though you melted into her due to it. Ruby lipstick smeared onto you, a groan slipping from her as she made sure to taste everything you had to offer. The metallic tinge on her tongue made her pull in deeper. You whimpered, dizzy from lack of breath and insatiable roaming hands.By the time she pulled away your eyes were low, an unfocused look about you.

“ I wonder if her cunt tastes even better.”

Kiramman smiled sickly to herself, her gapped teeth giving you a warm tinge to your cheek.

“ We’ll know soon enough.”

….

Your wrist were nearly rubbed raw with all the thrashing you were doing. Time and time again you made attempts to close those abused legs of yours, in hopes of protecting your cunt. Unfortunately, Kiramman wasn’t pleased and she slapped it raw until you cried enough apologies. She mumbled something along the lines of ‘can’t be stupid and greedy’. But you somehow continued to be prove to be both, whining endlessly about the torture of her tongue. She never let up though, only unlatching from you to say obscene things or mark up your poor legs.

It seemed the pair held similar views, sick desires. Medarda would litter your neck and breast with purple marks shamelessly. She smelled of some expensive plant you’d never heard of, all you knew was that it made you whimper everytime her skin was pressed onto yours. She’d whisper siren-like words to you, etched in sin, rough kisses between them all. And yet you drank them into your ears like milk and honey.

“ You just came, didn’t you? Nasty girl.”

“ Do you remember anything now, hm?”

“ Don’t be so dramatic, keep your legs open for her.”

“ You must spread yourself open often. You’re a natural.”

“ Your cunts almost as noisy as you, dear.”

And when her tongue wasn’t making you drip onto the table, Kirammans words were just as wicked, if not more. Her posh accent was a coverup for all the nefarious things laced into it. A very, very poor coverup.

“ I said— keep. them. open. Unless you need a second pair of cuffs? … No? Then fucking listen.”

“ Go on, you can cry. I know it feels good. Yes filthy girl…just like that. ”

“ You’ve made a mess. Say you're sorry.”

“ Quit it, you can get a break when you remember something.”

“ Don’t act so sweet now— had quite a lot to say earlier. Isn’t that right?”

This was wrong, every bit of it. There was nothing exactly right about two high ranking officers of Piltover and Noxus eating you alive in the depths of Stillwater. The thought alone should send you running. It should have you drinking hot flashes of anger, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. But it didn’t. It only made you spread your legs wider and beg shamefully for more kisses.

It all felt so good. They felt so good and a redeemable, rational part of you hated that. But every time rationality tried to sink itself into you, Commander Kiramman and General Merdarda were right there to sink into you faster. And by god, they made you feel more full than any morale.

You were so sure you were going to die before. And that thought that hadn’t been removed just yet, except now you thought you’d pass away from all the onslaught orgasms caused by the ravenous women beside and inside you.

“ a—angh! oh god…pl–please”

Kiramman held back a sly smile, seeing the way you twitched, body so sensitive. Her fingers were drenched with you, now gloveless. Initially her signature black gloves dug inside of you but the minute she tasted you she knew she didn’t want it anywhere but on her skin. Quite roughly, she had pulled three orgasms, somehow each one more intense than the last. But that wasn’t enough, not to them. Nothing was enough until those pretty lips whimpered something they could actually report back. And even then she wasn’t sure she’d want to stop.

“ Are you going to make a mess again for us?”

Pathetically, you fought back the white of your eyes before looking down at her. She couldn’t help but grip your thighs tighter at your teary face, nodding exhaustingly down at her. Medarda kept you slightly upright, your back arching into her bicep while she sucked on your breast. Honestly she hadn’t a clue how long she’d been at it but by the rate she was going you’d look a fucked out mosaic by the time they were done. She laughed to herself but you knew it was at you. And that fact only made you rut against the table more.

“ This is going to be your fourth one dear. We’re never going to leave this room if you keep being so stubborn.”

She trailed her kisses up your chest. A peck here and a peck there. The slow ascend of her affections compared to the rapid thrust of the others fingers made you bite your lip, the skin pulling between your teeth. By the time she was up to your ear you were practically panting.

“ Or is that what you want? For us to keep making you cry until you can’t anymore?”

They’d never know it and thank god for that but you almost whispered a yes.

Kiramman couldn’t hear what was spoken but she definitely felt it. You clenched around her even harder, a long mewl spilling from you. She creased her blue brows slightly as she sped up her fingers, making sure to never be gentle with that special spot, secretly itching to hear just how loud you could get whenever you came. Her counterpart was just as wanting for it out of you, a more balanced desire about her. Even in spite of the way she pulled you in for another kiss when she heard you sob, “ ‘m s-so close..”

This time Kiramman both felt and heard it, her fingers happily accepting the tight squeeze of you. She latched back onto your clit which was practically begging to be consumed again, if you asked her. Immediately you tensed, using every ounce of self restraint to not slam her cheeks with your legs. It also got devastatingly hard to keep up with Medarda’s mouth, she pressed into you like she forgot you needed air, like you only needed them. And as the coil in your belly grew and the sloppy sounds of her eating away filled the room, you did need them.

A muffled moan ricocheted into Merdarda and she invited it wholeheartedly. When she finally pulled away, you used your bound hands to grab at her hand groping you. You squeezed it the second you felt Kiramman offer a grunt inside of your cunt. She licked you like she was rabid, lost in whatever drugs your pussy clearly had laced in it. Merdarda found it all so nasty, so amusing. Seeing the renowned Caitlyn Kiramman so cruel but so feral, and you with your slick mouth gone and lips swollen, made her clench around nothing.

Even if nobody in the room spoke it, you were all enjoying this ‘interrogation’ a little too much. That manic laughter that constantly filled Kirammans head, those stupid pigtails and flashy gadgets, had even subsided for a moment. She still wanted nothing more than to rip that smile off her face, but the way the tears journeyed down your face so easily made her want something more.

Right now all she wanted was for you to cum on her face, and she nearly keeled over when she finally heard you sing that song for her. A moan that could only be replicated in the best whorehouses of Zaun left you. The pair both smiled the moment they heard you whimper what they already knew.

“ i th—‘m gonn—“

You could barely manage a single word, back practically ingraining itself in her arm the way you arched over it.

“ Let it out, make a mess.”

Your body truly was more honest than you and clearly obedient because the second she said it you did. Your self restraint abandoned you, left you on that table shaking and crying. Your bruised legs kissed her cheeks (not so gently) as she ate and thrusted at the same pace she did before, never letting up. Even with your legs shaking and around her she just drove in deeper. The pleasure slipped into overdrive making you shake your head, trying your best to pull away, use your hands, anything to make her stop. But Merdarda snatched your cuffed hands.

“ kira—kirammannn!”

Wow, that’s the only time she’s heard her last name and wanted to hear it more. But she ignored you, knowing you were begging for her to stop. By now your legs had dropped, too weak to hold up. Your whole body practically vibrated as you lost your breath. Maybe it was the burning sensation ripping through you or the cotton in your head but you stupidly turned your head to look up at Medarda.

“ help…me…gonna fu— die!”

First she looked at you, toyed with your nipple as your hands fought against hers. So pretty and so pathetic, she thought. Then looked down at Kiramman, whose eyes now opened and met hers. An amused glint was in her blue tinted stare and suddenly Medarda couldn’t think of a single reason she’d help you.

“ She’s eating child, don’t be so rude. Have some manners.”

She was looking at you when she said it, but from the mockery in her tone you knew it was meant for more than just you. And it was confirmed when a smile traced itself onto your throbbing cunt. But it quickly went away. She was eating after all.

“ i canttt! pleasee!”

Kiramman didn’t stop until you went silent, unable to speak, inconsistent babbles of nonsense here and there. You weren’t even shaking now, just twitching and breathing like the oxygen in the room had been sucked out. When she finally got up from between your legs she couldn’t help herself and gave two quick bites. A strangle mix of a hiss and moan could be heard as you watched her stand. She lifted her fingers to your mouth, shoving them inside.

You expected her to be rough and jam them down your throat but to your surprise she simply swirled them around your mouth. Despite that voice in your head you sucked at them tiredly hoping to please them. And pleased they were. They both watched as you weakly licked her fingers clean. By the time she pulled away they both knew that previous orgasm just couldn’t be the last.

“ Do you remember anything now?”

You were fucked out, but not that fucked out.

“…no”

Thank god, they both thought in unison.

“ I guess it’s my turn then.”

…

BONUS

Kiramman walked with pure candor on her face. She heard the whispers as she walked past but she ignored them. What was the point in entertaining fools? Besides, the moment her eyes met theirs they always went silent. Always. Today hadn’t been the best day for her. Most days weren’t, hunting for that psycho and her friends wasn’t an easy job or a fun one. But she wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Well…maybe someone else…

“ Don’t let anyone in.”

The guard nodded dutifully.

By the time she reached the room, she was already imagining her sweet song. She didn’t have to wait long to hear it in person because it was practically blasting throughout the room the moment the door opened. She closed the door behind her, smiling deviously as she placed her heavy cape onto the chair.

“ She’s even wetter today, if you can believe it.”

She laughed softly, “ Oh I can believe it. How many has she got so far?”

“ Just two. Don’t worry, you didn’t take too long.”

“ God, I know. I got caught up with that fool Salo.”

Medarda laughed now, knowing all too well how annoying he could be.

“ medardaaa”

Your toes curled, struggling to handle the two large fingers inside of you. Both were devastatingly skilled with their fingers but hers were undoubtedly bigger. Way bigger. And if the size wasn’t agonizing enough, she was hitting that spot over and over. This time your hands were free, and you used them to grip her bicep.

Suddenly your throat had a new necklace. Not a very nice one. She squeezed her free hand around your throat, speeding her fingers. Clearly she wasn’t a fan of your interruption, despite the way her cunt ached when she heard her name in such a filthy way.

“ Can’t you see us talking? And you didn’t even greet your Commander. She came all this way to see you.”

You thought you were going to pass out, the squelching sounds and sultry insults becoming distant. Your mind and body gave into her once the resisting clearly wasn’t doing anything. And you loved it. Each filthy posh coated word, lingering touch, rushed collided lips left you undone. The strength behind their hands made you want to never be without it. And for the past two weeks it continued to, leaving you right here in this room on this desk, unable to breath, only able to cry and spread your legs wider.

Medarda let go, allowing Kiramman to finally slip beside you. As much as she loved the song you offered, she wanted your lips. You gasped into her, them giving you no time to actually catch a breath between the transfer. Lightheaded, you still pushed against her, wetness dripping from your face to hers. She pulled away, licked the rogue tear from the corner of your mouth.

By the time she was looking at you, you were heaving, clasping onto her bicep instead of Medardas now. She watched with such marvel as your face contorted into those beautiful expressions, such a drastic difference from the stupid girl she interrogated. Logically she knew she couldn’t call what all of you were doing an interrogation. So she opted to saying ‘some investigating work’ the few times someone inquired about her abrupt departures. It wasn’t a complete lie, her and Medarda were investigating something every couple of days. your cunt

Her gaze traced to the brown fingers moving in and out of you, then to glisten on her General's hand and finally to your thighs. They were healing nicely. Unfortunately for her they wouldn’t leave a scar according to the doctor she took you to. She almost frowned at the thought.

But then she heard you whisper a quick, “ h-hi Kiramman…”

She smiled at you, a warm thought coming to her.

“ Hi, filthy girl.”

We’ll make sure they scar next time.

P.s. They had the officers who beat you killed 😜

[jenniferpendragon]

Listening to "Would You Fall in Love with Me Again?" and I wondered why on earth I connected so deeply with Odysseus here when I've been connecting with Penelope so much, and then it clicked.

Massive spoilers below the cut, and also mentions of sexual assault and image issues.

Odysseus has become the monster, that's what "Odysseus" is about, his final culmination. He is everything he's fought and hated and killed. He has murdered a *baby* at the command of a god who told him if he didn't, the gods would have the child destroy his family. His best friend died because Odysseus, out of extreme guilt, indulged his ways too much. His own desire for a better world and to give mercy, fueled by guilt, caused his mentor to leave him and left an opening for future pain. His pride turned his cunning into dust. He watched men he had fought for ten years to save from dying in war be drowned in a storm because of his damn pride (and his brother-in-law and second-in-command's greed and mistrust). He then nearly lost all of his remaining men at the hands of an enchantress. He is forced to hear the screams of his dead comrades and come face to face with his dead mother in the Underworld who died waiting for him.

Odysseus then murders gods know how many sirens (rightfully so, but still), and then sacrifices six men to a sea monster for safe passage. His remaining men mutiny against him (understandably on the crew's side, not so much for Eurylochus) and then decide to eat the sacred cattle of Apollo, which gets the wrath of Zeus down upon them.

Odysseus then decides that his wife and son are more important than his remaining men and lets them be killed for their misdeeds. He is then trapped for years (and possibly sexually assaulted, reading between the lines) by a woman who wants to replace his wife while the demons of his past and his guilt and trauma cause him to nearly commit suicide. Once freed from the island and Calypso, he fights another sea monster with just his wits and then nearly dies by a god before torturing Poseidon until he gives Odysseus the safe passage he wants. After all that, he (rightfully) slays the suitors who were planning to rape his wife and attempting to kill his son. They beg for mercy, but the Odysseus that gave mercy to the cyclops that murdered his best friend is dead. Only a monster remains. A man who tortured gods stands before them and judges them for their crimes.

And his son is ecstatic to have him home, is wondering if Odysseus would accept him as "weak" as he is, as if Telemachus isn't the perfect "warrior of the mind" Odysseus always wanted to be, a combination of Athena and his younger self's viewpoints. Odysseus, the monster, sees one of the two things he still loves in the world and exercises those open arms because this is his son. His love for him is unconditional and unchanging.

Athena, beaten and recovering and full of empathy for the first time in the ten years since she left him, sees the Odysseus before her, the monster and cunning warrior she was attempting to turn him into, and accepts what he is, what he's become because of her. And while she loves him, she doesn't show him love. Just acceptance and quiet friendship (which is more than fine, but it does nothing to his heart about his monstrosity).

And then he comes to Penelope. The woman he has turned into someone unrecognizable for. Someone even the goddess of wisdom regrets. His son loves him, but it's because of the monster he has become. His son never knew him, never knew who Odysseus was at his core. Athena did, and she regrets what happened to him, what he became. But Athena wasn't who he was fighting for. He wasn't the one thing that kept Odysseus alive for twenty years of hell.

And he comes to Penelope, heart on his sleeve and says "I'm not the man you knew. I have done terrible things. I have become a monster inside and out. Would you fall in love with me again?"

He doesn't ask "do you still love me?". He doesn't think it's possible. He is a monster. He not only signed the death warrant of his sister's husband but threw a child, a baby, off of the walls of Troy. Odysseus doesn't believe himself worthy of the love he is asking for. He needs it with every fiber of his being because that is what he has craved for two decades, but he is a monster. He is not the kind and gentle husband who carved a wedding bed into an olive tree so it would be a living reminder of their everlasting love. He is a man who sold the souls of his men to a monster to get home.

Odysseus is amazingly, beautifully human, but by many metrics, he is a bad man. His actions can be justified and rationalized, but he has committed atrocities or allowed them to be committed (Achilles' desecration of Hector's corpse, opening the gates of Troy for the people to be slaughtered in their sleep, sentenced men to death so he could go home, throwing a baby off the walls of Troy) and he can't be called a good man (his actions in "Odysseus" aren't monstrous but they reveal his mindset) in a measurable way.

I wouldn't go so far as to call him evil like I would Antinuous, but would Odysseus? Yes. He believes he is a monster. Monsters are something to kill, not worthy of love.

But he asks. He asks Penelope if she would fall in love with him again. Not if she still does, he doesn't ask for that. He has loved no one else in these last twenty years, but he doesn't ask for that from Penelope. He's asking for a chance. Would she be willing to love the monster that has come home in her husband's place? Would she be willing to look upon him, with the blood of an infant on his hands, with the blood of an entire people on his hands (they would never have sacked Troy and committed genocide without him), and choose to fall in love with him anyways? That is what he is asking. Could you love me, as evil and monstrous as I am?

And what does Penelope do? She asks him to move their marriage bed. He's not her husband? He's a monster? Fine, a monster wouldn't care about destroying their wedding bed, the symbol of their marriage, to get what he wants, a new start from her. A monster wouldn't care that he would have to tear out the roots of their eternal love to have her now. A monster wouldn't have second thoughts.

But Odysseus is hurt and angry at her essentially asking for a divorce from the man she married, revealing the secret of their marriage bed in his shock and rage. A monster wouldn't give it a second thought, but the man she married could never move that bed for anything.

And she tells him that only her HUSBAND knew that, so that makes this monster he claims to be her husband. Penelope doesn't just agree to fall in love again, but that she doesn't care how, where, or when, because he is HERS. He isn't a monster that has replaced her husband, he IS her husband.

She does not look at him and see his sins. She looks at him and sees someone she has loved and waited for for twenty years. Someone she was ready to die a violent death rather than live without.

Odysseus believes himself to be a monster, to be evil. And Penelope says he is her husband. He is hers. He is not some evil monster, he is her husband who would never even think about moving their marriage bed. He thinks he is evil, too much, too monstrous, and she says no, you are MINE.

I've always felt like I'm a horrible person and worthy of the pain and punishment I get. But hearing someone love someone else unconditionally, looking upon them and saying "I don't see your sins; I only see you" is incredibly healing to me. Penelope hears his list of his sins and straight up IGNORES them. It's almost as if she has forgotten them. She loves Odysseus, period. She does not see the vile monster that Athena sees and accepts and regrets. She sees her husband.

Love is the greatest power in the world.

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Soulmate AU I 2k I Rated Mature I idiot4idiot

The thing about linking with your soulmate, you never knew when it was going to happen. There were horror stories about it happening during weddings to someone else or while performing heart surgery or landing a plane, but linking was so rare, stories like that seemed more like fairy tales than cautionary ones.

If anyone had asked Eddie what he thought about it, he would've said the odds of there being some guy out there destined to be his mate, let alone that he'd have to worry about linking during some critical moment, were astronomically low.

He'd be wrong.

Because his ears are ringing, his vision has tunnelled, and there's an empty vacuum where his usual chaotic thoughts should be. All signs pointing toward-

Hello?

Jesus H. Christ, not now! Not right now, this cannot be happening now. Quick! Think of something else! Uhhh… Golems! Ice golems! Or maybe frost giants. Yeah! Not having hate sex with your arch nemesis. Shit! Stop thinking about it! Frost giants, frost giants, frost giants!

Hate sex? He hears echo around his noggin next. Arch nemesis?

Fuuuuuck. No, darlin’, don't even worry about that stray thought! Nothing to see here. I'm, uh, baking! Yeah. Brownies. For a charity bake sale

A long pause, empty space between them, before he says, I don't believe you. I think you are having sex

Sex?! He screeches. How dare you! I would never!

You would. Go balls deep into a guy you don't even like, sounds like to me. Class act.

Oh god, there’s gotta be a way to salvage this.

No, let me explain, please!

Knock yourself out

Right. So, this guy, I know him from school, right? And he was always kind of a jerk. The space between them pings with a sort of stung feeling but Eddie doesn't understand how any of this works yet so he ignores it. But we end up having a few mutual friends, and this one really weird event happens that forces us to, like, team up, I guess. After all that I'm spending more time around the guy and he's not so bad. Invited me over to smoke up with him, which was cool. I'm gonna be totally honest, I'm not sure how exactly we got here, the sex part, but it’s pretty hot and heavy, kinda aggressive, so… yeah. Hate sex I guess

Soulmate is quiet again. His feelings bleed through anyway, at least Eddie's pretty sure that's what he's getting. It feels like embarrassment and disappointment.

You okay? Did I scare you off?

You don't like the guy at all? You said arch nemesis

Oh. Uh. Well… How did he explain to his future partner, if he hadn't already ruined it, that he likes him plenty, he's just been holding him at arms length, metaphorically, because he assumed the guy was straight? Up until roughly twenty minutes ago. He should probably start with honesty.

No, I like him okay. He's not as bad as I'd always thought. We give each other shit but I'm pretty sure it's just left over bullshit stereotypes from high school. I bully him about his music taste, he bullies me about my shitty van. That type of thing

…Right

He waits to hear back from his soulmate but he's not very talkative. That's okay, Eddie can talk enough for both of them.

So, what were you up to when we linked? Not driving I hope

He can hear the guy sighing over the link, which is worrying.

You'll never believe it, but I'm also having sex at the moment

Seriously? That's hilarious

Yeah. A hoot

Not having fun?

I was. But I recently found out the guy doesn't like me that much. So, yeah, real mood killer

Oh man. That sucks

Oh my god. Yeah, it really does. Kinda wish he'd get off of me so we can get the awkward part over with but he's distracted at the moment

Doing what?! Eddie yells, offended on his behalf.

“He’s busy not realizing he linked to the guy he was hate fucking.”

Huh?

“Eddie, open your fucking eyes.”

That's Steve talking.

He blinks his eyes open to see Steve looking up at him. He's not pleased.

Wait

“Yeah.”

Oh my god

“As impressive as it is that you managed to stay hard through that whole thing, I'd appreciate it if you-” He hisses as Eddie, rudely he realizes, pulls out without warning.

He scrambles to the end of the bed, bunching up the comforter around his junk. “I'm so sorry, fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry. I don't… I didn't…”

He can't fix this, he starts to slowly comprehend. He's made Steve think he hates him.

“Nah, it's cool. I get it.”

I don't hate you, I swear. You have to believe me

“Sure, Eddie.” He's yanking his briefs back on, angry and trying not to show it. “You just don't like me much.” Can't believe I did this again. So fucking stupid

Eddie's certain he's not meant to hear any of that but he responds anyway.

You're not stupid. Please let me explain

“You already did. And I am fucking stupid,” he snaps. “Here I thought we were flirting this whole time and you thought we were bullying each other. That's real fuckin’ stupid of me. I'd convinced myself you actually-” He snaps his teeth shut but Eddie can still hear the unfinished -liked me. “I really wish you would control your feelings, dude. You're broadcasting your horror straight into my head.”

“I don't know how to stop,” he quietly admits.

“Well if you'd ever shown up to health class you'd know how to control it.”

I never thought I would get a soulmate

Steve's surprise at that pings around his brain before he does what Eddie can't and shuts it down.

“I did. I've been thinking about it for years.”

And you ended up with me… And I ruined it before we even got started. I ruined it. Steve Harrington is my soulmate and I ruined it. What the fuck

“You don't have to say it like I'm some kind of prize.” He steps into his jeans and tugs them back up to his hips, not even bothering to do them up. Which is- “I guess it's nice that you think I'm hot. That's something. Maybe we'll be the first casual hookup soulmates.”

He has to fix this. Somehow. Think, god damnit! Wait! That's it! He just has to show Steve what he's thinking!

“I wish you wouldn't.”

“Too bad!” He snaps back.

Okay, as embarrassing as this is about to be, he has to tell the truth.

Eddie was in the 8th grade, Steve in 7th, when they first met. Or, when Eddie first noticed Steve anyway, they never really spoke to each other, their cliques already established by then. But Eddie can remember it like it was yesterday. It was lunch, Eddie was walking by with his bagged PB&J, when he heard it. Steve laughing. It was so joyful, Eddie didn't even know what he was laughing about but it made him smile anyway. Of course one of Steve's shitty jock friends caught him staring and called him a queer freak but that wasn't unusual.

“What the fuck, Eddie? Why do you remember that? And how are you so good at visualizing?”

He ignores the questions to move on to the next memory. Eddie's sophomore year they somehow ended up in the same Shop class. Again, they never spoke but he got to watch Steve work, tongue poking out while he concentrated, the proud look on his face when he whittled some hunk of wood into a recognisable shape.

“I forgot about that. It was a dolphin. I was dating Chelsea Hosteller, they were her favorite animal.”

“Lucky her.”

“Hey, fuck you, man, you're the one showing me this shit! What am I supposed to assume from any of this? You thought I was cute? So what? You clearly don't like who I am as a person, so what difference does it make?”

He's not going to have the patience for every single moment, and they're a lot of them, Eddie realizes that now. So he speed runs through them, making sure to send every bit of feeling through their link.

Steve in his Scoops outfit, luring Eddie to the mall but never making him brave enough to go in. The horror of not knowing whether Steve was alive or dead when he heard about the mall burning down. The joy of finding him at Family Video, somewhere he had reason to visit.

You never even talked to me there

Listening to every word to every story Henderson told him about Steve and his bravery. Pretending to be annoyed so no one noticed he was eating it up. Getting to know the real Steve over Spring Break, the giddiness he couldn't quite tamp down, even as he was scared shitless. The pain of knowing Steve was still in love with Nancy Wheeler, even though it was the obvious narrative to Steve's fairytale life. Of course he gets the girl at the end.

What? Is that why you-

The way he stuck around afterward, even though their dynamic was more antagonistic than friendly, and the way Eddie thrived off of every snarky comment. How it felt like banter even though Eddie knew, by all logic and reason, Steve was merely tolerating his presence. They would always be antithetical to each other, circling but never meeting.

Eddie, no

Steve growling ‘Do you ever shut up!’ before pouncing on him downstairs. The heavy pounding of his heart as he wrestled Steve up the stairs. The way his brain never did catch up to what was happening or why, until it was too late, and he was ruining both the greatest sex he'd ever had and also the chance to prove, though he's still completely unworthy, that he has already been primed and ready to fall for Steve for years. The shame of ruining it. The heartbreak of ruining it. The teeny, tiny spark of hope as Steve stares him down. He has to close his eyes to avoid it, lest he say something stupid and fuck it up again.

You…do like me?

Yeah, Stevie. I like you a whole lot. I just didn't think I was allowed to like you. I didn't realize you liked me too. I'm sorry I said all that shit earlier. I didn't want to tell the guy I'd just linked with that I was thoroughly enjoying the chance to sleep with this guy I'd had a crush on for years. That seemed rude

The bed dips and so does Eddie's stomach. Steve's enormous hands slide up his neck, into his hair, and gently cradle his face as he leans in to kiss Eddie square on the mouth.

Oh. Hi

Hi

This is nice

I think so too. How do you feel about finishing what we started but this time we both know that we like each other?

That sounds awesome. But are you sure? I really, really fucked up the first time

I thought you were perfect up until you called me your arch nemesis

I have been told that sometimes I'm a little dramatic

You know what, that's fair. I really should've taken that as a compliment, if anything

See? Now you get it

What I'm getting is another condom. Hold my ankle so I don't slide off the bed

You got it, baby

Unbelievable. Salvaged the wreckage of his own stupidity and managed to bag the hottest guy in town! Score one for the nerds!

“I heard that.”

[achillesmonochrome]

I honestly believe the writers wrote themselves into a corner with this one.

So, the idea that Octavia thought her parents didn't hate each other before, comes from episode 2 of season 1.

Here is the thing, when you are starting a story, chances are you are still getting the grasp of your own characters; how they behave, believe and how that will affect their future.

I think a good example of this in mainstream animation is Hooty from the Owl House, he went from wanting to do riddles and calling out people who refused to play, to a woobie who takes all the hate without question.

This is something that mostly happens on things that are episodic. A stand-alone book will not have this issue because the level of editing and re-reads those books need means those issues would be ironed out during it.

In some ways I feel this is what happened to Stolas, but I am not really sure.

Regardless, I wouldn't be surprised that at that point in the story, they weren't sure what the deal with Stella was; enough that this could fly.

Now, since they can ignore Stolas early characterization to woobify him, how come this wasn't ignored too?

Well...this one was useful for the plot line.

Literally the only thing that is standing in the way of Octavia understanding where Stolas is coming from, is the fact that Stella was a horrible wife who helped to make his life miserable, not that the rest of things that weren't Via helped.

Yet you hit the head on the nail, because after what we had seen in season 2, it is hard to believe Octavia somehow didn't know Stella hated Stolas.

Stella doesn't seem to be willing to pretend how much she dislikes him, even if by some miracle she was holding her tongue around Octavia before the cheating; they live in the same house. Are you telling me that Via was never in a hallway and heard her mom talk shit about her dad? Never heard in the parties, her mom would SCREAM how awful was Stolas?

She has been a month around her mom, who rather than try to console her about losing Stolas, has been non stop saying how hilarious it is that he is trying. Even if she believes all of this is happening because of the affair, the fact that she isn't trying to go to Stella for comfort shows she knows how "nice" it is to be around her.

Yes, Octavia is allowed to be hurt, but it is hard to not notice the story blatantly ignoring the elephant in the room.

"Stolas isn't wrong for choosing his own happiness for once after years of abuse and depression"

and

"Octavia isn't wrong for feeling betrayed by her father and fearing she's been only an obligation to him"

are two concepts that can and should coexist.

[hahaifolded]

Good... Really? - Simon "Ghost" Riley x POC!GN Reader Drabble Part 2

Part 1 - You go on a really bad date with Ghost (Angst) Author’s Note: I don’t know if y’all will find this funny but I did. Let me know if you want a part 3. This was really just for shits and giggles…

“Lieutenant, we need to talk?”

Soap knew Ghost wasn’t the best with people but he didn’t think he was this bad. Now with a clueless Simon in front of him, Johnny takes a deep breath.

“You know that date you went on?”

“With my future spouse? Yes.” Johnny nearly busts out laughing with that. There is not a single thought behind those eyes.

The Scottsman just takes a deep breath. “And it went well, right?” Ghost’s eyes crinkle as he happily nods his head.

“And do you mind telling me how?”

Simon looks up, almost reminiscing that “perfect” date.

“Well, I did exactly what you said.” And with that, Ghost goes through Soap’s advice.

“Don’t talk about work.” Yeah but that didn’t mean to ban it all together when they brought it up.

“Don’t say anything stupid.” By not talking to them…

“Make sure they feel comfortable to eat whatever they want.” Well that comment was not comforting AT ALL.

“If you can’t think of anything to talk about, talk about the weather or something.” Emphasis on SOMETHING.

“Speak honestly.” Way too honest there buddy.

Damn, and people think Soap is the dumb one.

“And Lieutenant, you don’t think there’s a chance that… I don’t know… that date didn’t go as well as you think it did?” Johnny could see the neurons trying to fire in Ghost’s head at that. But unfortunately due to the lack of activity in that head of his, they come back with nothing.

As Ghost shakes his head, Soap was at a lost. Did he not think yelling when you lightly touched him was not bad? How has Ghost made it this far?

“Lieutenant, I hate to tell you this but,” and with that, Johnny bursts the poor man’s bubble. The more he explained Ghost’s pitfalls, the more he saw the big guy deflate. This was supposed to be funny but as the light in his Lieutenant eye’s dimmed, Soap couldn’t find any humor in this (right now).

Once Soap finishes, the two sit in silence for a bit. Johnny patts Ghost’s back, trying to soothe Lt’s broken heart. This is just sad. While Soap tries to find the right words to comfort the heartbroken man, Ghost shoos his hand away and stares at the Scotsman. Before Johnny can say anything, Ghost swings.

“Woah woah woah, what the fuck,” cries Soap. He stands up, arms out, trying to maintain some distance between him and Ghost.

Ghost remains seated, eyes locked on Johnny. He points a finger at him and asks, “how are you going to fix this?”

“ME! FIX THIS? WHAT THE FUCK?” Soap yells. He couldn’t believe his ears.

“Well, this is your fault. I followed your advice.”

“NO YOU DIDNT!” Soap spins and scans the room. There had to be a camera recording this. “Ghost, I don’t know how but you literally did and DID NOT follow my advice at the same time.”

Thankfully, instead of attacking Soap again, Ghost slumps down in his seat. “How do I fix this?”

Johnny freezes. He’s never heard his Lieutenant so broken before. Damn, this man is in love. He slumps in the seat next to him.

Johnny genuinely didn’t know what to say. That date was bad. And you’re not going to take “nerves” as an answer. You respect yourself too much for such a shit answer. “Honestly I should have just let you be yourself. There’s no way you could have fucked up as bad as you did here,” the sergeant admits mindlessly.

Before Soap could think more on the matter, Ghost shoots up from his seat and practically sprints out the door. Johnny lurches forward before slumping back down.

John MacTavish was done playing cupid.

Word Count: 623

Thanks for reading! — Folded’s Page Guide + Masterlist

[nqueso-emergency]

Just wanted your opinion on a few things because I'm curious. I know you can't say anything other than what you think, and that's all I'm asking.

I kinda feel like the breakup was planned all along (maybe not so soon, we know storylines shift a lot) and they plan to have them get back together in the future. (Fully admit I swing wildly back and forth between this, and "he ain't ever coming back and we'll be lucky if they even acknowledge his existence from now on.")

And also, I'm getting a lot of "they already know this is their last season" vibes, especially since it kinda sounds like Tim wants to blow everything up and burn it to the ground. (Not gonna lie, with how they're written this season, I kinda hope it is. Wrap it up and let the better authors take it over from here. 😅)

Anyways, thoughts?

I'm back and forth on it too.

I do believe we'll see Tommy again for something. Be it a reunion, closure, or actually getting back together. It was just left too open to be completely over. Even for 911 standards.

The romcom comment from Tim is the main reason for my confusion.

Was THIS the moment in a romcom where shit falls apart, but they ultimately get back together?? Or was it the disaster date in season 7?? Season 7 would work but we all know that in romcoms they end up together, the end, happily ever after, wedding bells, eyc. which ultimately hasn't happened.

And could Tim have decided to completely end the relationship?? Absolutely. But why make Tommy so fucking different than other relationships? He even said that he didn't want to create a random gay character. He wanted someone connected to the world of first responders. It's why Maddie is a dispatcher AND Buck's sister. Tim said he found it really difficult to incorporate Abby in season 1.

Idk man. I hate trying to understand Tim's thought process because it's never just one simple thought. He wanted Lou because he's charming. He filmed the break-up before the Halloween episode and they (Tim, Oliver, and Lou) have said it was meant to be heartbreaking.

My question is, why? There has to be a reason.

[simp-ly-writes]

Days & Nights

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.10)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You and Jayce share 3 days and 3 nights before your move back to Piltover. During these days you both reassure one another's worries for your shared future, go on a date, spend time with friends and family, and pack up your apartment.

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, teasing, pet names, sickly sweet fluff (no but seriously), some emotional hurt/comfort (more like reassurances), kissing, suggestive themes, very brief mentions of violence, Evren (OC) being a little pice of shit /affectionately, reader is mentioned to have hair and is shorter than Jayce, not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 6,050

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: last fic of the year! (2025 sounds so futuristic I hate it here 😭). Also this chapter is kinda filler! next chap wedding? 👀

─────── · ·

─ · · You sit on a lounge within Jayce's hotel room reading one of your new romance novels from your bag. Afternoon passes to early evening and you both had yet to move from your spots, simply enjoying one another's company.

Every time you finished another chapter you would look up and across the room to watch Jayce sign his signature and write letter after letter before sealing each with wax hammer emblem for his house. A part of you felt bad for making him take his work to you and by the sheer amount of letters he had to respond to by the end of the day to make sure they made it back in time...

"Bored of your book already darling?" Jayce asked leaning back in his chair and stretching out his legs. You watch as he picks up his wine glass, swirling the blood red liquid before taking an elegant sip.

"No," you look back down at the page blushing at the desperation of the male love interest and trying to conceal a giggle once they finally kiss, "It's actually getting really good." Jayce watches the way your eyes light up before quickly turning to the next page, the book practically touching your nose as you read the next words carefully before shutting the book and kicking your feet.

Jayce stands, walking over and taking a seat by your feet before extending his hand in a silent ask for the book, you look at his hand and then raised brow- curious. You tuck the book close to your chest shaking your head, "Nope! Sir Antoine is for my eyes only!"

Jayce scoffs, placing his arm across the back on the lounge and his wine on a side table before putting your legs on top of his own and massaging your calves. "Should I be worried about this Sir Antoine?" Jayce teases, giving your leg a squeeze.

You reopen your book, eyes going wide as the scene heats up and you lose yourself again to the text, breathing in sharply through your nose as you read, I want to be your every waking thought, make you feel the ghost of my touch with every step in your walk, understand that you are what makes me breathe. Your jaw drops at what you read- not noticing how Jayce glares at the cover of the book. I have more definition than that guy, he thinks to himself.

You look up from the book to look towards the ceiling, crossing your ankles together as the replay the scene in your head, biting your lip before closing your eyes- and Jayce steals the book as you hastily lean forwards and try and snatch it back.

Jayce stands, your legs falling off his lap as he holds the book up at out your reach. He goes back a few pages, humming and nodding along as you grip his arm trying to force it done to no use. "Jayce!" you plead but your boyfriend simply ignores you and flips to the next page before holding your hip.

"Almost done, just taking notes," Jayce hums, staring down and smiling at your glare before leaning down kissing your nose. You scrunch it, "You don't need notes Jayce," you try and entice his ego into letting the book go but Jayce shakes shakes his head, "apparently I need to do better if you're imaging other men in that brilliant mind of yours."

Its your time to laugh, "Jayce... I was imaging you the whole time." His eyes quickly catch your own, lighting up, mouth in a playful smirk as he marks the page and places it on the lounge before taking you into his arms, "you were now? and what was I doing to you-hm?"

"I mean, you just read it for yourself..." you trail off, playing with the buttons of his dress-shirt and observing the small flowers within the metal design. "Maybe I just want to hear your voice," Jayce counters before pulling away and sitting back at his desk, sighing at the other stack of letters he still has to get through before the end of the day.

You sit back on the lounge picking up the book and flipping to the next more relaxed chapter before reading it aloud for you both, Jayce nods along to the sound of your voice as he slices open another letter and observes it continents.

─────── · ·

─ · · After reading through all of Piltover's words and demands to help Jayce finish up for the day and by having memorized his signature and forging it, you both take the boxes to the front desk to be shipped back home. You grab Jayce's arm while walking down the street and back to your apartment where Ximena and Evren were waiting for you at the kitchen table. "Busy day today?" Evren asks while filling up your glass.

You shrug, "got the marking done for the weekend and helped him with the mail," you explain before stealing a bite off of Jayce's plate watching as he playfully glares at you before returning to his conversation with his mom.

Evren nods, "I'm going to miss you when you're gone..." you smile sadly, reaching your hand over the table to grasp his own, "I'll write to you every week until I annoy you and at that point I'll come for a visit," you explain watching as Evren smiles and squeezes your hand before placing a kiss to the back of it, "I look forwards to then but you have to tell me!"

"Tell you what?" you ask, squinting your eyes- trying to decipher his words before he speaks them to life, "what do you plan to do when you get back? You two moving in together? What are you going to do for work?- or are you gonna be one of those hot little housewives waiting for their man to get home~" Evren teases you with a wink.

You gasp, taking your hand away to cover your mouth, "Evren!" you shout now catching everyones attention at the table as both Jayce and Ximena look between the two of you curiously. Evren leans back in his chair, clutching his stomach as he laughs at your horrified reaction, "I mean... I don't think Jayce would mind-" he manages to speak in between gaps of laughter.

"I hate you," you whine, hiding your face in your hands, head in your lap as Jayce rubs up and down your back only making you feel worse. "You're not making me feel any better, Jayce!" you explain as Jayce slows his movements and leans down to whisper in your ear asking if you're okay.

You quickly sit up, face flushed as you blink away tears from concealing your own silent laughs while pointing a finger and glaring at Evren who simply blows you a kiss. Ximena clears her throat, your eyes snap to her as she looks at you concerned, "what happened, dear? If you don't like the food I can make you something else? If its my son? I apologize, but know that he loves you."

You shake your head, "No, no, the food is delightful as always and Jayce is... yeah," your mind still held up on the housewife comment. Evren chokes on his own drink, picking up his napkin feeling as you kick his shin from underneath the table. "Ouch- hey!" he glares at you staring as you cross your arms over your chest. Jayce sighs, shaking his head with a smile at how you both act like an old married couple together.

Ximena still looks worried as she motions for Jayce to comfort you again, "What did Evren say to upset you?" Jayce asks quietly. You can't look at him, only holding your sights on Evren- daring him to speak first. "Well," Evren sits up in his chair, looking at everyone at the table before keeping his eyes on Jayce for his reaction, eyes shimmering with mischief, "I said that our friend here would give all those high ladies in Piltover a run for their money being the hottest little housewife waiting for their man to get home."

You groan, wanting to become a puddle and seep beneath the floorboards into nothingness. I hate you, I hate you Evren, Why, why why did you say that? You listen as Jayce roars with laughter, feeling his hand caress the back of your head and to your horror, Ximena nods along agreeing with Evren, "I think she holds more class than the entire upper class put together. Oh let me show you the pictures of them together, I enjoyed seeing everyone's jealous faces," Jayce's mom claps her hands together excitedly before grabbing a photo album she's been preparing for your wedding, you want to die.

"Can I just catch a break, please," you beg to the floor watching as Jayce's foot taps the side of yours, you look up to your boyfriend's large eyes holding nothing but care and affection within his irises, "If thats what you want to do, know that I can and will provide for you." You stare at him, watching for a bluff yet Jayce only kisses your forehead before leaning back in his chair, glass in hand as he holds your thigh, squeezing it gently as his mother returns to the table- book in hand.

Evren looks utterly pleased with himself, graciously taking the book, "Damn! You two look so good together, tell me that you still have this dress?" he turns the album around, finger tapping at a photo from Jayce's councillor party. You remember that day vividly, Jayce's hot stare at you throughout the night before carrying you down the hall and then... you bedded another. Jayce tenses beside you, seemingly remembering that fact the same time that you do. He smiles tightly at Evren who quickly looks down to the next page of you and Jayce shopping together, a little girl in your arms.

Evren takes his time looking at that image before passing the album back to Ximena who smiles, "my favourite picture," she comments, closing the book softly before setting it aside. You look around the table before looking at Jayce to find him already looking at you.

Ximena leans over grasping Evren's arm as she whispers into his ear while watching you both with a smile, "It may just be a generational thing but I do hope she considers your words." Evren nods, pulling away before shooting you a horrified look, I promise you I was just kidding, his mouths to you.

─────── · ·

─ · · When night falls you hug Evren goodbye for the night and close the door behind you, Jayce is wiping down the table before looking up at you with a smile. Your eyes feel heavy as you lean against his back and close your eyes with a sigh. Ximena leans against an archway between the kitchen and the living space staring at you both while grasping her hands tightly together underneath her chin.

Jayce raises his arm to get a glimpse of your sleepy form, "tired there are you miss?" he teases, "please know that I have a girlfriend."

"Mmm, I'm sure she wouldn't mind," you murmur back, smiling towards Ximena. "I would think otherwise, I really must go see her if you'll let me go?" Jayce counters, grabbing your hand- interlacing his fingers with your own, gently pulling you off of him. You giggle before running off, "Night, Jayce!" you call from down the hall before closing your door. Jayce scoffs looking towards him mom, "What did I do wrong this time?"

Ximena shrugs, taking the towel from his hands and throws it by the sink, "I haven't got a clue, sweetie," she pats her sons arm looking down at your door, "Maybe she just wants to sleep by herself tonight, nothing wrong with that right?" Jayce lets out a deep long breath, "...yeah I guess." Ximena chuckles before leaving to get herself ready for bed as Jayce debates weather or not to take your couch or to head back to his hotel room.

Suddenly you open your door in one of his shirts as you switch off the lights, "Jayce?" you call, Jayce's heart picks up- hopeful. "C'mere let's sleep-" Jayce races over, picking you up in his arms, closing the door with his foot behind you both before placing you back on your bed.

He quickly undresses himself before sliding himself underneath the covers- smiling as you burrowing your face into the side of his chest with a satisfied hum. "Can we make a rule of not going to bed alone?" Jayce asks softly. You laugh, "Sure, Jayce."

"I'm serious," he speaks softly and your laughter dies, "no matter how angry you are with me or what happens, I just need you there at the end of the day." You press a kiss to his chest, lingering for a moment before pulling away, "same time, anywhere and always."

─────── · ·

─ · · When you step into Evrens office the next day, you are shocked to see his desk covered in cards and parting gifts as various staff and students alike prepare for your impending departure. You smile, ripping through the assortment of ribbons and paper- taking your time to note down each sender and write them a small message back on your break.

Evren looks jealous, taking a look into the various bags and boxes with a huff, "nobody sent me things when I got divorced." You shake your head at your professor friend as he grumbles to himself, stealing a scarf from one of your presents when he thinks you not to be looking before heading to lecture leaving you to conduct office hours.

A knock sounds at the door, "come in!" you yell, quickly disposing of all the wrapping before taking a sip of your now lukewarm coffee. Jayce walks in, jacket draped over his forearm and briefcase in his other hand as he smiles at you. "Do you have a moment for some questions, miss?" he asks, taking a seat in front of Evren's desk. You giggle, taking a seat in his chair before leaning forwards and trying to conceal your smile. "I have all the time in the world for you, Jayce-my-boy, whatever are your questions, young student?"

Jayce shakes his head, "I'm afraid its a rather serious affair," he deadpans. "Oh? Do go on then," you wave your hand, leaning back in Evren's chair as Jayce leans forwards on the desk. "I need a dinner date." You gasp, the shock... the outrage!

"I do beg your pardon, pupil. But it would be against policy for me to accept your request," you explain, crossing your legs as you place your head on your palm, elbow resting on the arm of your chair. Jayce pouts, ringing his fingers through his hair, "surely there could be an... exception for your favourite student?"

"Thats quite the bold claim you've made there," you respond, eyes gleaming with humour as Jayce stares at you, trying to figure out how to get you to fold. Suddenly he stands, rounding the table and placing his hands on the arms of your chair, boxing you in.

You lean as far back as back in your chair, staring up at Jayce as his face becomes steadily closer to your own. His hair brushing your forehead, his breath hot against your skin as his eyes flicker between your own and your lips, "I can prove it to you if you allow me to show you," he whispers.

You pause for a moment, looking down at Jayce's lips before trailing down to his neck and tie in which you tug him even closer by, you hear him gasp as your lips brush against his, "show me," you murmur before feeling his lips linger against your own. His hand moves to cup your cheek- tilting your head up to deepen the kiss.

You moan giving Jayce access to explore your mouth, you gasp as his other hands joins to hold your face, fingers brushing your cheeks before pulling away as you both gasp for air. "So can I expect to see you in my room at six?" Jayce asks, thumb brushing up against your lower lip as you give it a teasing lick watching as his eyes darken.

"What should I wear?" you ask.

"Honest answer? nothing," he says with a shrug.

"Jayce Talis!" you scold, he smirks, "Same thing from the gala."

"But you've already seen me in that," you pout thinking about the various other articles you've collected for special occasions and a moment like this. Jayce kisses you once more, "But I didn't get to dance with you in it, kiss you in it, make you feel my hand drag up your leg through the slit or watch as it falls to the floor leaving you bare for my eyes only," he explains watching as your cheeks warm and how you push yourself back on the wheeled chair and into a corner of the room, refusing to meet his eyes that drink in your flustered look.

"I thought you were over that night by now," you mumble underneath your breath looking at Jayce through the corner of your eye as he nods his head contemplating- eyes looking upwards to the ceiling as he considers his next words, "I'll always want more of you- doesn't matter if it's then, now, or the future. Sometimes I fear that we won't have enough time to experience it all..."

Your frown at his words, "I think we've experienced more than the average lifetime, Jayce."

"But... I- just," Jayce sighs, "never mind." You stand and walk over to Jayce, picking up one of his arms and placing it around your waist- pressing a kiss to his jaw, "I'll love you regardless of what you say next Jayce... just as long as its within reason," you try and lighten the mood. Jayce sits with your words before opening his mouth again to speak.

"I just want enough moments we share to be happy ones... we just... so much happened to us that I don't want you to look back and regret choosing me," Jayce whispers, blinking a few times before looking over your shoulder.

"Is this what you've thought for sometime?" you ask worriedly, taking his face into your hands when he refuses to meet your eyes, the silence is telling and your heart aches in response. "Jayce," you whisper his name, trying to call him back to you and out of his negative thoughts.

He slowly turns his head, "sorry for ruining the movement," he kisses your cheek and wraps his other arm around your waist. You both stand there for a moment, feeling one another warmth as you press your lips to his softly, whispering, "No, thank you for sharing that with me, Jayce. Never think you're protecting me from your emotions, I want to hear what you have to say, always."

Jayce nods, pressing his lips against your own as you close your eyes, dragging your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp, you feel as his shoulders drop adding a smile to your kiss. "What?" Jayce asks, eyes brightening as he tilts his head watching your smile grow, "I just love you," you respond with a giggle.

Jayce smiles mirrors your own as he gives you a squeeze, lifting his chin to place atop your head, "I love you too."

─────── · ·

─ · · You held a bouquet of flowers in your arms while trying to knock on Jayce's door... you were a bit early... as in an entire hour early but you thought he wouldn't mind.

─ · · Within the room Jayce was still working, hand gripping the pen tightly as he sighed frustratedly, the numbers were just not adding up for what other regions were demanding from Piltover in return for what they were offering... the upper city had already finished rebuilding after the crises. Local businesses were returning back to their regularly scheduled hours and with the people of Zaun being able to freely come up to the surface and vice versa... the old contracts just did not make sense any longer.

─ · · Jayce gripped his hair, leaning back in his chair as he looked down at his watch, she's coming soon... but I have to get this done... fuck, Jayce thought to himself before standing abruptly at the sound of your knock.

He opened the door, startled to see you all ready, hair all done up and in thee dress, he stared for awhile before remembering to let you inside. You placed the flowers at the foot of the bed, kicking off your heels as Jayce smiled offering his slippers before suddenly remembering his dishevelled appearance.

His shirt was unbuttoned half way, tie left stranded on the desk. His forearms are on display, tattoo dragging up his arm that he scratches the back of his head with- hair a waterfall against his forehead. "Today is just my day it seems," he sighs while looking at the flowers you brought him and he had nothing to offer you, feeling disappointed with himself.

"You look good, my love. I enjoy the relaxed look," you say honestly. Jayce furrows his eyebrows in question, "Jayce..." you laugh fully now, falling back into the bed, "I looked at pictures when you first came back and..." you blush, "...you looked good then." Jayce shakes his head, disturbed someone had shown you pictures.

"That was something I tried to hide purposefully-" he begins to explain, embarrassed as he pinches the bridge of his nose as you bat your eyelashes up at him. "Why?" you cut him off, curious as you sit up slightly, leaning back on your elbows.

"I just didn't want you to see me at such a low point, such a mess," he explains before joining you on the bed, placing his head in your lap to cover his face. Someone's the shy one today, you think to yourself.

"You don't always have to look your best or be strong for me, Jayce. I promise thats only a fraction of you that I fell for," you reassure him, relieved to be getting all the doubts and worries out now.

"But I just want to be the best man for you," Jayce picks up, body hovering over your own.

"You are, Jayce. The man I love is selfless, intelligent and above all, kind. He kisses me after a long day of work, dances with me even when I step on his designer shoes, laughs at my terrible jokes, and is always there to bring me up no matter how many times I don't think I am worthy of all this love and attention that he too seems to forget he is just as worthy of feeling regardless of being the "man" everyone else tells him to be. You are everything I need or could ever want you to be, Jayce." you are nearly breathless by the end of your speech and the way in which he kisses you passionately, unable to contain his affections.

"Could I marry you now?" Jayce, equally breathless asks in a tone light yet holding an edge of sincerity to it.

"You're mother would be severely disappointed... I would also be taking her Mrs. Talis title," you counter yet knowing within yourself you would go down to the courthouse now without a care for any large ceremony.

"I guess you're right... but then again, she'll more than understand. Know that when we get to Piltover theres nothing stopping me from becoming your husband," Jayce states as you look up at him, fingers brushing his lip, picking up the edges to make his smile grow, hands falling once seeing it spread on its own. "Mr. and Mrs. Talis," you hum to yourself, testing the titles you had already been called countless times on accident, "Mrs. Talis," Jayce echos, a part of you in shock that one day it would be official.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your inside date would tick off every box Jayce had mentioned earlier. A record played in the background as he twirled you dizzy before crashing you against his chest and tilting your head up into a dizzying kiss that held your knees weak. His mouth distracts your trail of thoughts as you feel how his hand drags up your leg, up and under the slit of your dress and towards your undergarments before the phone rings.

Jayce holds you against him, breaths ragged as he reaches over to pick up the phone, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "Hello?" you bite your lip at his baritone, not quite listening to what he says but how he says it. "Dinners here," he explains as the line dies, you nod your head, dragging yourself out from underneath his hold and ensuring that you look... somewhat presentable as people set the table and leave quickly that has you looking over yourself worriedly before noticing the mark you left above Jayce's collar bone on display... and the over a dozen lipstick kisses across his skin and dress-shirt... oh.

"Gods, it looks like a ripped you apart," you say, reaching from your glass, chiming it against Jayce's who smiles underneath the lip of the glass, "a good thing, no?" He tries to boost your ego. You roll your eyes, "everyones gonna think I'm just using you," you grumble, taking a bite off your plate.

"You're welcome to," Jayce indulges you with a wink, tongue swirling around one of his canines as stare at him for awhile, "Sometimes I question how long I withstood your advances."

"I question that too," Jayce admits, "when I first started I was willing to do just about anything for you to see me" You gasp, "so you knew exactly what you were doing!" You think back to the various times you thought to have caught him in a state of undress, imagining him purposefully placing things too high for you to reach, or calling you anything but your name in front of your peers.

"Guilty as charged, sweetheart."

─────── · ·

─ · · Waking up in the morning you both took a slow morning getting ready before heading back to your apartment and starting to pack everything away with the help of Ximena and Evren.

Suspiciously all the heavy boxes you packed and tried to hide to carry later were all taken and gone. Your furniture was going to stay for the next household as You and Evren worked around it, folding your clothes into bags and boxes alongside wrapping the glassware in the kitchen with Ximena.

Jayce was in a pair of kakis and black t-shirt, sweat dripping down his forehead as took a box out of your hands and walked out the door not listening to your demands of helping to carry things as Ximena dragged your arm back to the living room to finish taping the boxes on the table.

Seeing Jayce out of the corner of your eye, you dropped your chest over the box protectively, "If you don't let me carry this box Jayce I'm leaving you at the aisle," you threaten, standing and walking to the door as Evren silently trails behind giving Jayce a look up and down watching as he wipes the sweat off his forehead.

"You two are going to be somethin' huh?" Evren yells before stepping outside after you, loud enough for both you and Jayce to react separately with laughs.

─────── · ·

─ · · Everything was loaded onto a train carriage headed a day ahead of you all to arrive when you got there. Jayce laid on your bed, chest down as you startled his hips, massaging his back. You laughed listening to him complain about your cold fingers before groaning as those same fingers loosened a knot in his lower back, "I told you to let me help you," you pressed down a bit harder as Jayce whined, biting his lip, the pain felt relieving to the stress he felt within his muscles.

You lessened your pressure, working your way upwards as your hands traced his shoulders before squeezing them. Jayce burrowed his face, groaning into the comforter you would be taking on the train as you laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his neck. "Feels good?" you tease watching as Jayce slowly shows his face again, mischief in his eyes that has you slightly worried for his next words, "stealing my line there are you sweetheart?"

You flush not knowing how to respond but thankfully you wouldn't have to, freezing at a scream, heads whipping over to see an embarrassed Evren who thought to be walking in on your both. "Evren! I'm just massaging Jayce's back, promise," you reassure your friend as he hesitantly opens his eyes before letting out a sigh of relief.

"Do you both ever fear being too attached together?" he asks seeing how Jayce reaches behind feeling for your hand as you lace your fingers together, you both think for a moment, "We can last at least a week with no contact," you nod, "Yeah, maybe two depending on how earlier weeks were."

You and Jayce proceed to go back and worth determining that the longest timing with different prior variables. Evren was not planning to witness you both debate like old times in the lab as you get back to rubbing his shoulders and neck; Hypotheticals and theories, what if I sent a gift part-way? Would letters count as contact? What If I visited part way and then left... could we go longer then?

"I think the answers conclusive, 3 weeks with at least two visits and gifts," you tap Jayce's back, sliding off as Evren does not know weather to feel disgusted by how sweet you both are with one another, disturbed by how telepathically you read one another, or enamoured by the affection you both share. "I cannot believe you even decided on getting with that officer," Evren jokes as you roll your eyes, "don't remind me about him, that was a poor choice on so many levels. But then again... If I hadn't done that Jayce and I may not have gotten together in the end."

"Still not thanking that fucker," Jayce curses, throwing his shirt back on before extending a hand, helping you off the bed, "oh no, I was going to try and invite them to the wedding," you joke... Jayce stares blankly at your head in response as Evren smiles at you both, "I love you two."

You rush over hugging Evren tightly knowing that this would be one of your final moments together, "Love you too Ev!"Jayce joins the hug as you both smush Evren between your bodies, "Now this was NOT the threesome I'd imagine," Evren says, patting both of your arms gently with a wheeze.

─────── · ·

─ · · You count every bag and item on your person before double checking Jayce's hotel room to ensure you both got everything. Evren and Ximena were both waiting for you on the tracks, watching as the luggage got loaded.

"I told myself not to cry," Evren says to himself with a pout, blinking profusely as if to delay the tears... yet it only seemed to make them come faster as he sniffled, dragging you into a hug as you both swayed side to side, "Why am I getting so emotional? We only hung out for what... a few months?"

"Ouch, Ev. I thought my friendship meant more to you," you joke, rubbing his back seeing as his glasses fog up, "It does I assure you. Just like how I'm dead set on delivering a speech at your wedding." You groan at the thought of it knowing that in your many nights out together after class... you told him almost every secret you had to share.

"You wouldn't do that to me!" you try and guilt trip him, feeling as he shakes his head, pulling away from the hug, a smile returning to his face that matches your amused one, "Consider it payback for leaving me here."

"I told you you're welcome to come back, I'm sure I could find a spot for you within the Academy?" you counter. "I'll get back to you on that once the loneliness settles in."

"Whatever you need, Ev. Whatever you need," you reassure him, pulling the professor in for one last hug before standing off to the side watching as Ximena gathers her own hug before joining you observing as Jayce and Evren hold a handshake, unsure of what they are whispering to one another.

─ · · "Take care of my friend, please," Evren asks quietly, "I know I joke about it a lot but divorce does hurt." Jayce nods firmly, eyes determined without a trace of fear or doubt, "I promise you I will and I don't mean my words lightly."

"Thank you."

─────── · ·

─ · · On the train back to Piltover you sit beside Ximena as you both share your combined excitement to see if parts of the upper city were how you remembered and what restaurants you both wanted to sit in as soon as you got back.

Jayce leaned back on a bench opposite of your both, watching with a smile wishing he brought a camera to capture this moment for all of eternity. You and his mom held hand, shaking with laughter as she recalled various stories from Jayce's childhood you had yet to hear.

"Oh and Jayce used to make pretend weddings in school wanting to stay in his uniform like a suit. And did I ever tell you about how he caught his hair on fire the first time in the forge? Or what about the hour before you arrived to our house for the first time?- Jayce was pacing around the kitchen nearly digging a hole into the floor with worry. 'What if she doesn't like the food, mom?' 'Oh god I never asked if she came from nobility?' 'Is it bad of me to be worried this much?'" Ximena looks lovingly towards her son who blushes a furious red, "mom you were just as worried as I was!" he counters with a huff.

You smile, "I was worried too that I was overdressed or what address you by the wrong title. I also didn't know what work material to bring without feeling intruding even when thats what you requested," you explain as Ximena grabs shakes your hand in her own. "You were so beautiful that day, I think I fell in love myself," you laugh lightly, "I can see where Jayce gets his charm from."

"Only learned from the best," Jayce adds.

─────── · ·

─ · · You and Ximena had yet to move from your spots when Jayce came back in his sleepwear. Laying down in the cot he looked between you and his mom, lingering on your form with consideration. Ximena caught his look, "If you didn't keep her from me earlier in the week, Jayce, you would have more time together now." You shake your head in humour, "I'll get ready in a few minutes, my love. Just discussing flowers for the wedding."

Jayce frowns but nods, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest trying to create a comforting weight. You continue your conversation yet can't help your eyes from constantly darting to look at Jayce with longing. Ximena shakes her head, "alright, I'll let you both sleep now. See you two in the morning," she stands, kissing your cheek gently before moving to her own room two doors down in the carriage.

You watch as Jayce opens his arms expectantly- not being able to contain your laugh before rushing over and collapsing against him. "G'night," you mumble, pressing the light-switch beside the bed feeling as Jayce shuffles the blankets over you both in the small cot.

Jayce's turns on his side allowing you more space as intertwine your legs, "Night, sweetheart."

─────── · ·

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: I think this series is officially the longest thing I've ever written... WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, JAYCE TALIS 🫠

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123 @peachhiz @hellokittyluvr69420

[commandermonalisa]

Casey poured the wine with practiced ease, the deep red liquid catching the light as she swirled it in the glass. She handed it to Alex, their fingers brushing for a split second, a touch that sent a small jolt of electricity through her. The victory of the case should have been enough to keep her mind occupied—after all, they’d just won, securing a future for Alex, justice for herself—but the tension in the air between them was impossible to ignore.

“Cheers,” Alex said softly, her voice low and edged with something Casey couldn’t quite place.

“Cheers,” Casey replied, but her throat was dry, her nerves firing at every little thing that Alex did. The way she held the glass, the way her eyes lingered on Casey a fraction too long—it was too much, too close, and Casey could already feel herself teetering on the edge.

Alex leaned back slightly against the kitchen counter, her eyes never leaving Casey. There was a sense of urgency in her gaze, something hungry and raw that Casey had never seen before. It made her pulse race.

“We did it,” Alex said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Casey nodded, forcing a smile as she leaned against the counter, too, to keep some distance—though it did nothing to stop the heat building between them. “Yeah. We did. We won.”

Alex’s eyes darkened for a moment as she stepped closer, her presence taking over the room. “So why does it feel like we’ve won something else?” she asked, her voice low, teasing, but with an undertone of something heavier.

Casey swallowed, her heart thudding in her chest. “Alex…” she started, trying to keep her voice steady, but even her name sounded like an invitation in her mouth. The tension, thick as it was, filled every crack between them, and she hated how much she wanted it to snap.

Alex took another step closer, closing the distance, and Casey felt her breath catch. She could feel the heat radiating from Alex, the scent of her—spicy cologne mixed with the faintest trace of sweat from the long trial day. It hit Casey like a drug she hadn’t realized she needed, and before she could stop herself, she stepped closer as well.

“I know what you’re thinking, Case,” Alex murmured, her lips almost grazing Casey’s ear. “But we both know we shouldn’t. It’s wrong.”

Casey closed her eyes, fighting the urge to pull Alex into her, to feel her pressed against her. The raw want pulsed in her veins, but her brain screamed at her to hold back, to stop. “Yeah, but I don’t care,” Casey whispered, her voice rough. She turned to face Alex fully now, eyes locking. “I can’t pretend I don’t feel it. Can you?”

Alex’s jaw tightened, her lips parting slightly, the sound of her breath too heavy to ignore. She wanted this. Casey could see it, feel it in every step she took, every word that fell between them. She reached out, her hand finding Casey’s arm, pulling her closer, just enough to make Casey’s pulse spike.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” Alex rasped, her voice almost a growl.

Casey couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her lips, a little shaky. “Killing you? You don’t have a damn clue, do you?”

The tension snapped then. Alex’s lips crashed to Casey’s, hungry and fierce, as if the moment had finally come, and neither of them could stop it anymore. The kiss was urgent, demanding, and filled with everything they hadn’t said but had always known. Every brush of skin, every sharp breath taken between them, only seemed to deepen the hunger.

But even in the middle of it, a voice at the back of Casey’s mind screamed that this wasn’t right, that they were about to cross a line they couldn’t uncross. But the way Alex’s hands slid around her back, pulling her closer until they were chest to chest, made it impossible to listen.

“I—Alex, we…”

Alex cut her off, her hands sliding to Casey’s neck, pressing their foreheads together. “We can’t,” she breathed, her lips still grazing Casey’s skin.

Casey closed her eyes, feeling the softness of Alex’s breath on her face, their bodies close, so close. “I know,” she said, voice thick with the weight of it. “But I don’t know how much longer I can hold back.”

Alex’s fingers tightened in Casey’s hair, pulling her into another searing kiss. This was the thing they both had been denying—the thing that had been growing between them every minute they spent together. And now, in the aftermath of their victory, in the stillness of the room, they both knew that neither of them could stop.

But realization hit Alex too quickly.

This wasn't right. She absolutely could not start something with the redhead knowing that there was a possibility they'd never see each other again.

Alex pulled away, her breath ragged, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, inches apart, sharing the same air. The tension was still there, thick and charged, lingering between them like a promise unfulfilled.

“I have to go,” Alex muttered, voice hoarse, like she was trying to convince herself more than Casey. She ran a hand through her hair, an unconscious gesture of frustration, of wanting to be anywhere but in this moment.

Casey’s heart clenched at the thought of Alex leaving. She couldn’t do this—not yet. Not after all the time spent apart, after the trial, after everything they’d just been through. She wanted Alex—needed her—right here, right now. But she knew Alex had responsibilities. She understood, deep down, that this wasn’t the right time, no matter how much it felt like it should be.

Still, the thought of watching Alex walk out that door, into the night, knowing she was about to disappear from her life again… it made Casey’s chest tighten, and her mouth go dry.

“I don’t want you to go,” Casey admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as though the words alone were enough to make Alex stay.

Alex hesitated, her hand hovering near the door, her gaze lingering on Casey’s face. The city felt cold suddenly, even though the apartment was warm. She could hear the hum of the street outside, the soft murmur of distant traffic, but nothing felt as important as Casey right then.

“I wish I didn’t have to,” Alex said quietly, her voice cracking just a little, betraying her emotions, even if she was trying to keep them hidden. She felt a knot form in her stomach at the thought of leaving, but the clock was ticking. Her flight was already scheduled, her hotel waiting for her. She had to go.

Casey’s eyes followed Alex’s every movement, her breath still unsteady, her body aching with the need for Alex’s touch, for the closeness that felt just out of reach. “Then don’t go,” she said, her words more forceful now, desperate even. “Stay.”

The plea hung in the air between them, thick and full of meaning, and for a heartbeat, Alex was frozen, torn between the desire to stay and the reality of her life pulling her away. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to collect herself. But Casey’s voice, Casey’s eyes… they made it harder to leave. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to stay, to let go of the duty and just give in to what she felt for the redhead.

But duty, and the fear of what staying could mean, were powerful forces. Alex stepped back, her heart heavy with regret, her fingers brushing the door handle. “I can’t, Case. You know I can’t.”

Casey’s chest tightened with each word, and she had to fight the impulse to reach out and stop Alex. She knew she couldn’t make her stay—not like this, not when Alex was so determined to go. But the hurt, the frustration, burned in her eyes, even though she fought to keep it contained.

“Yeah… I know,” Casey whispered, her voice shaky. She bit her lip, feeling that familiar ache of longing, of yearning that would have to wait. “I just wish you didn’t have to leave. I wish I didn’t have to be here, alone, with just the taste of you on my lips.”

The words hung in the air, raw and desperate, and Alex’s resolve cracked just a little more. Her fingers flexed against the door, the weight of the moment heavy between them.

“I’ll be back,” Alex said softly, her gaze flickering to Casey. “Just not yet. But I’ll come back to you.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Casey replied, her voice soft but firm, like she knew that no matter how much time passed, she would be waiting for Alex to return to her.

Alex took a final step back, then turned, her body aching with the desire to turn around, to go back to Casey. But she forced herself to step out into the night, the cool air immediately hitting her skin, but it didn’t feel like relief. It felt like another kind of emptiness, a hollow feeling that only grew as she walked away from the apartment that had felt so full just moments before. The city buzzed around her, but all she could think about was Casey—and how hard it was to leave her behind.

Inside, Casey leaned against the door, her breath still catching in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the silence that Alex left behind, but knowing that the night wasn’t over. And maybe, just maybe, she could still get the closure she needed—when Alex came back.

But for now, she waited.

#yes, they only shared one scene #yes, they are wives

[aventurineswife]

✉️ ← Final Letter...?

To [Name],

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, and maybe it’s better if you don’t. But I couldn’t leave without saying something properly, even if it’s just words on a page that might never reach you. I owe you that much. I owe you everything.

What happened…it was my fault. Not yours. Not theirs. Mine. I made the deal with Jade. I thought I could outplay them, thought I could turn their twisted rules into something that worked for us. But I was wrong. I gambled, as I always do, and this time, the stakes were too high. The cost wasn’t just mine to bear, and that’s what tears me apart the most.

Our friends…their death wasn’t your fault. You loved them, and you fought for them, just as you fought for me. But I failed us both. I see that now, and I hate myself for it. For the lies I told you, for the trust I broke, for the way I’ve dragged you into the shadows of my own making. You deserved better, so much better, than someone like me.

Leaving you wasn’t something I wanted—it was something I had to do. If I stayed, Jade would have used you, broken you, turned you into a weapon against me. And I couldn’t let that happen. Losing you now is a pain I can’t even begin to describe, but it’s a small price to pay if it means keeping you safe.

I don’t know where this path will lead me. Maybe I’ll win, maybe I’ll lose, but either way, I’ll carry you with me. You’re the only light I’ve ever known, the only one who’s ever seen me for who I really am and still cared. You’ve given me hope, something I didn’t think I could feel again. For that, I’ll always be grateful, even if I never get to tell you this in person.

Please, don’t blame yourself for my choices. Don’t let my mistakes dim your light. Live, [Name]. For yourself. For those you’ve lost. For the future you deserve. And if Lady Luck is kind, maybe—just maybe—we’ll meet again.

Until then, know this: you are, and always will be, My God, My Universe.

Forever yours,

Aventurine

[Navigation]

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Can you make some HC of what Ran would be like as a father? like if he would be the playful type or a little serious, worried or calm... maybe it's a weird request but I have a soft spot for dad Ran and your HC's are always cute so I think you would be the right person for me to ask this 🤣

Merry Christmas ❤️🎄

Dad Ran is super cute to think about, here are my hc's for him!

He insists the baby will have his good looks

Poor guy is so confused when the baby starts crying instead of sleeping, he doesn't understand why anyone would choose not to sleep.

Is an expert at doing his kids hair

He personalises the nappy bag and buggy

Insists he's an expert at pinatas at every birthday party they have

He smiles a lot at them, even when he doesn't realise it. Just seeing his kids brightens his day

Says he's a "cool dad"

Ran cut his hair in the future because of his kids (them as babies pulling on his hair)

When Ran first finds out he's going to be a dad he laughs, he thinks it's a joke.

He wants only the best for his baby, will buy expensive clothes and essentials.

Despises changing nappies and has gagged before but still does it.

Wants more then one child, he thinks siblings are important.

He likes giving his kids pet names, calling them precious or his darlings

Ran is both excited and terrified when he watches them grow up, he never thought he would miss the baby days

Both Ran and his kid hates spiders, they'll both run away screaming

He's a drama queen when it comes to illnesses, his kid coughs once and he panics, taking them to hospital.

Accidentally forgot his baby after getting his hair done once, he just walked out after paying. Came back 10 minutes later in a panic then bribed the baby with a new toy to not tell anyone ever (the baby could not yet speak) 

He makes so many dad jokes!

He's very good at not swearing in front of the kids and substituting words. He accidentally starts using them on Rindou too though, which just confuses Rindou.

Would wear matching sunglasses with his kids and make dramatic entrances with them

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

How much do you think did Diana believe Martin Bashir’s interview and how much did it really influence her actions?

In my opinion, there are 3 ways to view that interview

1. She was a victim by the royal family and she exposed the royal family (which is the popular view among young people maybe, The Crown fans, Sussex squad, Hollywood…)

2. She knew Bashir lied to her but did the interview anyway out of malice and hunger for power and vengeance, because she just wanted Charles out and William on the throne as soon as possible like some Cersei Lannister figure (I see this view from Charles & Camilla stans. To a lesser degree, maybe William stans too)

3. She was a complete victim by Bashir. She was taken advantage of by Bashir and she wouldn’t have done the interview if she knew the truth. (William himself is probably the only one who believes this)

Or maybe all 3 combined?

From my own research, I think there were two issues working against Diana that enabled her for Panorama.

First, she had great expectations for her marriage and her in-laws that ran opposite to the expectations of the BRF. I feel like Diana's expectations were based on the opposite of her childhood - she grew up lonely, unhappy, stuck, rejected and she wanted her relationships to be loving, present, and included, but Charles and the BRF wanted someone to fit in, go with the flow, do what she was told. Diana wanted the BRF to meet her expectations, the BRF wanted Diana to meet theirs, and there was no room for compromise. This is an environment ripe for resentment and paranoia - resentment that her reality doesn't match up to expectations or fantasy and paranoia that others resent her too in the same way.

Second, Diana was in a marriage with a man who didn't love her the way she wanted because he was in love with another woman and a lot of people (friends, family, staff, press) were helping him be with her behind Diana's back. That is also an environment ripe for paranoia.

And ultimately that's what happened to Diana. High (maybe unrealistic) expectations of her marriage and her in-laws collided with the collapse of her marriage and she didn't know who to trust. Who knew about Camilla? Who helped Charles get with Camilla? Is Camilla better? Did her in-laws like Camilla better? Did her in-laws hate her because she wasn't their idea of Charles's wife? Were people gossiping about her being the wrong kind of wife? Did they think she was raising William inappropriately? So on and so on.

From everything I've read, these feelings and attitudes of Diana and the BRF were not a secret. Given Charles's and Diana's close connections to the press, there were many in the press who were aware of Diana's resentment and Diana's paranoia of how she was being treated by the BRF. While I don't believe Martin Basheer was part of that press who knew, I think Basheer was aware of it and he made a huge gamble on how deep Diana's paranoia ran. He created fake evidence that preyed on her paranoia to get her committment to the interview, which she fully and completely believed to be true - I believe the BBC, William, and Charles Spencer are absolutely correct that if not presented with this fake evidence, Diana likely wouldn't have done that specific interview.

But that said, I believe Diana had so much resentment against Charles, Camilla, the grey suits, and parts of the BRF that she would've done interviews regardless. After all, she worked with Andrew Morton in 1991. She likely would have done it again because the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior*; if she did it once, she'd do it again. She just needed to be pushed far enough to react. Unfortunately, Martin Basheer's fake evidence that targeted her paranoia did it. Without him, I think Diana would've kept mum until Charles and Camilla made their relationship public; I feel like she would've clapped back to their 'happy couple' PR with her version of an Oprah tell-all but I don't believe it would have been the same kind of watershed moment that Panorama was. I think public reaction would have been similar to the Morton book, since I think one of the reasons that Panorama took on a life of its own was precisely because of Diana's tragic young death.

*And this is true of Harry and Meghan. Because they've OK'd six tell-alls about their marriage and the BRF since 2017 - Finding Freedom and Endgame by Scobie, the Netflix docuseries, Meghan's 'Wild about Harry' Vanity Fair and The Cut interviews, and Harry's Spare - the question isn't "will they?", it's "when?" (My theory: Meghan's next tell-all will come with a divorce, if there's a divorce. Harry's next tell-all will come with Charles's passing/William's coronation if he's still out/rejected by the BRF.)