#as my mother said “i will make you pay”

[sinsinewave]

i think i posted about it before but this kid is going places if those art skills are allowed and encouraged to develop

like, the reason that looks so good is largely because of composition and colour

the background colours are such that they don't draw attention to themselves, not unnecessarily standing out, just kind of fading into the... background

the specific colours also neatly contrast the meowlk's clean white without being oversaturated and forceful, and the light, warm tones imply the idea of a safe and cozy environment; like a family home

---

as for compositing, the meowlk itself is positioned off-centre and off the focal point, which enhances the feel of mundanity and makes it feel more like just a normal object

that in turn sort of lets it speak on its own terms; the meowlk doesn't demand your attention like a screaming child, it exists there, letting the viewer's attention more naturally focus on it

---

i can also tell that a lot of that is most likely intuition, which is why i think this kid has potential to grow up a really damn good artist

basically, a subconscious, internalised understanding of composition and/or colours, making it so that you compose a scene in a certain way or choose certain colours because it just feels right, rather than by actively applying theory

that tends to lead to more genuine-feeling results than raw theory; letting the artist focus on expressing themselves rather than the framework on which to express themselves

the same intuition can be seen in a variety of fields; for example i have great spatial awareness and due to that do well at 3D modeling, while my mother (a painter and portrait artist) seems to have an intuition for contrasts and shades, at least from what i can see, and musicians often have it for harmonious sounds and melodies

and this kid seems to have it for colours and composition, along with a good imagination, as i said

---

and before anyone says anything about talent, this is the closest there is; and that intuition can be learned

some have it more naturally without much practice, but like, if you genuinely want to do art, you'll develop it over time; while it's developing things just won't be nearly as effortless, and a lot of people give up from that

for example, if while learning art skills you have to figure out colours regularly, your brain will slowly rewire itself to do that automatically

---

to get into a bit of psychological speculation there, because my view on the nature/nurture debate tends to lean towards nurture, i'd imagine having that intuition naturally is a result of what the subconscious mind pays attention to during development for whatever reason, be it genetic or something else

using my own intuition for 3D awareness as an example, i know for basically a fact that my (or, well, former host's) mind focused a lot on spatial thinking; partly as a result of being really into lego, but also just kinda naturally; and the memories i've recovered of that time include remarkable amounts of spatial data specifically

and then years later i end up being good at modeling because my brain is already pre-wired to handle spatial thinking

in this kid's case, i'd imagine for whatever reason their subconscious mind has focused on layouts and colours, which translates to the composition of that genuinely really goddess damned good artwork

[yourfatherlucifer]

| 𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 | Chapter One

Mafia!Ot8!Ateez x Female!Reader

Summary: After losing everything through gambling, your father's debts to the Ateez Mafia have resulted in you becoming their property. With no other family left, you are now at the mercy of these dangerous criminals due to your father's reckless actions.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight Parental Abuse, kidnapping, mental breakdown, MDNI

My Thankful Help: @potatomountain @kitten4sannie @rems-writing

WC: 1.7k

AU: Mafia

Nets: @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AN: This chapter is under 2k because as I said, the first chapter would be short.

Tags: @xomakara @jedi-dreea @beabatiny @ateezaddict24 @spenceatiny18 @18fernanda @prodsh00ky @evercodeee @yizhou-time @smally97 @eshia-16 @daniela-f-uwu @peachyy-joonie @butterfliesinthenightsky @dassmyname @unlikelysublimekryptonite @dollinno @stay-tiny-things @joongscheese @misskarynie @monstacheol @yeosangcutie0615 @mariaa @pinuspot @amphiroxx

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Tag list link

“Dad, please, this is all I have left!” Y/N’s dad didn’t care, he snatched the few bills she clenched in her palms, then shoved her to the floor.

“I don’t care. I need it more, you brat.”

Her father left her on the cold hard floor without another thought as he exited her home.

This all started five years ago, when her mother died and her father became a huge gambling addict. Every bit of death insurance money that was left for their daughter was stolen by the father for excessive spending.

Whatever, his ass can forget it.

Y/N had to return to work if she wanted to keep her home, rent and bills were definitely no joke. With a sigh and groan, she grabbed her apron and hat. As much as she hated her customers, she had a good job. It paid well and gave her a nice home: small, but nice. The best part is that it’s away from her fathers run down house.

Oh the family home..it used to be so beautiful. Y/N’s mother always kept it so extravagant and beautiful, her father actually built it for her mother. Alas, once she died, Y/N’s dad let it fall into disrepair. Holes in the floor, broken windows, no working appliances. It truly was just, not hospitable in any way shape or form.

The walk to the car was miserable, with her pockets robbed of the last cash she had, her bank account stripped clean of its currency. Y/N hated her father in these final minutes to her car, “Piece of shit, hate his ass.”

Her car struggled to start, pissing her off even more. Her hands smacked against the steering wheel and she let out an agonizing scream. Tears streamed down her face that signified her further frustration. Why? Why not was her life like this? Y/N stepped out of her car with a slam of the door. Bus transposition it is. She could only count on the money she made tonight to make it back home. Her bus card only had enough for one ride.

Y/N grabbed her coat before heading back outside to the bus station, it better not be packed. Her day was already shitty and she didn’t need to be jostled around by people on the way to work.

The moment she stepped onto the bus and scanned her card, only then could she breathe a sigh of relief. There was no one on the bus which gave her momentary tranquility. A peaceful silence if you must.

After the jostling bus ride and arriving to work, Y/N prepared for a long day ahead of her. Hopefully having no shitty customers and ending the day with a good pay.

She needs it.

About six hours later, she was clocked out of work with some cash in her pocket, she had made about one hundred and twenty four dollars. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get her home and maybe something ordered to eat. Tomorrow's payment would have to go to rent no matter what. She absolutely cannot afford to be homeless.

It had turned dark outside on the way home which she didn’t mind but alas, men. She never had to worry about that but she still worried regardless.

With her home in sight, she let out another sigh of relief and stepped inside. Why was it so dark? She knows she left the lights on. She was sure she left them on. Y/N was about to bolt when hands grabbed her and the lights turned on.

Three men resided in her home entrance and she panicked, “Who the hell are you people and why are you in my home?” She tried her hardest to break away from the man’s hold, she couldn’t see what they looked like and that scared her.

A short one with orange hair pushed himself off the couch with a frown, “You’re not Mark..” His face grew cold, “Might I ask who you are instead?”

Y/N could only scowl before giving in, “I’m his daughter. What do you want with my father?”

“Well, you see, he owes us a hefty bit of money. He listed this place as his home but he’s not here. Do you know where he is?” He came face to face with the girl as he scanned her body up and down. Quite the specimen indeed, he thought.

Y/N shook her head, “Why the hell would I know where that deadbeat is? He’s nothing but trouble and continues to steal my money.”

This made the man laugh, the others stiffening.

“Oh, yeah, sounds just like him.” He thought for a moment before nodding to himself, “Well, guess we’re gonna have to take you instead! Maybe we can lure him out with you.”

Before she could protest and scream for help, something was bashed against her head and she fell to the floor in a blackout.

Time flew by quickly.

The moment she woke up, she realized she was in a cell, her body wrapped in a tight rope and her legs barred together tightly.

Y/N began to cry, of course her father would get her in this situation. What a dickweed.

A light quickly flashed into the dark room, someone stepped in.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” The voice was monotone, “Captain wants to see you.” The sounds of keys jingling rattled her ears, swearing she had a concussion.

She was quickly yanked up and taken outside of the cell, “Do not attempt to flee, I will just shove you back in there with nothing to eat.”

Y/N gave in and let him take her upstairs. She was astonished by his beauty once they reached the light. No, no, do not think that way, she thought to herself. She was kidnapped.

She was taken to a room that was secluded from the rest, chandeliers lining the hallway as she walked, well, was forced down. Still, a beautiful place that astonished her.

Once she was shoved into the room and the door slammed behind her, only then could she look up from where she fell.

The other man stood up from his seat and helped her stand up, “I told you to be gentle, Jongho. Follow my orders next time or you know damn well what happens.”

“Yes, Hongjoong, sir, I’m sorry.” The voice spoke from behind the girl.

This guy was the boss?

“I’m Hongjoong, I’m the leader of ateez and you’re in our home. You can thank your father for that.” Hongjoong gently brought Y/N to a seat and sat her down, sending shivers down her spine.

“What do I have to do with my father? He’s not going to rescue me. He only cares about his money.” He didn’t like those words but quickly gathered his cool.

“No matter, fathers always come back if they want to escape our wrath.” Hongjoong cleared his throat before he stood up once more, “You’ll be staying with us until he makes an appearance or pays us back.”

She knew neither was going to happen. She’d be stuck here forever until the day she died.

Tears lined her eyes as she tried to fight them back, “Then you should just kill me.”

Hongjoong laughed in such a maniacal way that it scared Y/N, “I won’t be doing that either, you’re too pretty to kill. I like you.” He wasn’t sending any red flags but still, he scared Y/N.

“Fine.”

“Good girl. Jongho, take her to the room I had prepared and have the maids clean her up and feed her.” With a wave of his hand, Y/N was back to being yanked around, “Be gentle, dammit!” His fist smacked against the desk and Jongho was frightened once more, being more careful than he had before.

When the two of them were out of sight, Jongho was harsh once again, “I don’t like you. I don’t see why Captain has such an interest in you, I would’ve just killed you if I was in his position.”

Y/N couldn’t say anything, she was too scared, too afraid to die in all honesty. She could only wonder what would happen to her home, her job, everything she had. Would she just be reported as missing? What would happen? Would anyone even care?

“You’ll be staying in here.” She was shoved into a room once again but maids rushed to her this time, helping her to the bed, almost as if they were also afraid of Hongjoong.

She didn’t blame them.

Y/N didn’t even fight back, she let them undress her, too hollow of shell at the moment. They led her to a prepared bath, it was..big. Too big.

They helped her inside and began washing her body before she shouted, “I can do it myself, thank you.” The maids didn’t scamper off unfortunately.

“We’re so sorry, but Mr Kim wants us doing this. We have to.” They spoke with such a frightening tone, almost as if they were gonna get their heads chopped off on a stand.

They scrubbed her body with such ease and care, not wanting to hurt the girl. Too scared to do so. Then again, they haven’t had another girl in the house in so long. It was nice.

Once they were done, they had her step out, drying and dressing her in a gown. Something she normally would never wear, alas she has no choice unfortunately. If this is what the man wanted her to wear then so be it.

The several maids took their leave for a moment and Y/N took that as her chance to escape. She bolted out of the bathroom, out of the room, then into the hallway. Her heavy breaths carried her in a panic, but what she didn’t expect was to run in a hard chest.

Y/N screamed in defeat as they grabbed her tight. She recognized the hold as the person who captured her home.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” The voice snickered in such a mimicking tone, “Mm, captain is gonna love to hear about this.”

Y/N stared up into his eyes, yet another beautiful man and this one was definitely tall.

“You do look delicious.” However, he shrugged and dragged her back into the room, “I’m Mingi, though, next time you try to escape, I won’t be so lenient.” The door was slammed as Mingi left her in the cold and dark room once more.

Y/N could only cry as she came to the conclusion she was never leaving this place.

Ever.

[zweetpea]

Yandere Batfam X reader p2

Feat. the batfam! (Jason, Dick, and Barbara)

Part 2 of this!

Will be making a part three with Echo's birthday!

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You had been dropping Echo off for about half a year now. 

For some reason every time you had dropped echo off Damian was the one who answered the door, despite the fact that he hated you. He even once told you that he’d rather have a wanted thief as a step mother than you.

Regardless, today he wasn’t the one to open the door. It was a tall man who had jet black hair in a hairstyle reminiscent of MatPat. He was rather muscular and had big blue eyes. He just stared at you with wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth. His outfit was kind of basic: just a white tee shirt, a blue racer jacket, and some navy blue jeans.

“Um… hello?” You pulled Echo closer to you while the tall new man stared at you awkwardly.

“Hi… Hi! Uh, hi! I’m Richard but my siblings call me Dick.” He smiled nervously and held out his hand to shake.

You ignored his hand. “Well, siblings can be cruel.” 

Dick suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “Heh, yeah.”

“So where’s the terror tot?” You said monotonously. 

“You mean Damian? Him and Bruce left for a gala in Switzerland last night.” He smiled shyly at you.

You facepalmed and sighed. “Why didn’t he tell me?” You pouted, very annoyed at your baby daddy.

Dick sensed your anger and tried to distract you. “Well Bruce asked me and Jason to look after our sister!”

You stepped back slightly. “Sister?” You tilted your head cautiously. 

“Hold on! We're doing what?!” Another man popped in from the doorway. He was slightly taller than Dick and had dark black hair with a long strip of white and blue eyes. He was wearing a worn-down bomber jacket, a black t-shirt and black ripped jeans.

Dick glared at him. “We’re helping take care of our little sister, JASON!”

He looked at you and propped one arm above his head against the door frame. He smirked at you and chuckled. “Oh so you’re the lovely lady Bruce can’t shut up about. Though I can’t exactly blame him. If you were mine I don’t think I’d ever let you go.” He looked you up and down with hooded eyes.

You and Dick gave him disturbed looks. Dick was the first to speak up. “Jason, stop being disgusting!” Dick smacked him on the back of the head.

“Can you blame me? She’s a beautiful woman! And she’s far too young for Bruce.” Jason looked at his older brother bored and slightly irritated. 

“I’m standing right here you know!” You growled, very vexed.

Jason smirked again. “I know. How about you come inside and keep me company.” 

She handed Echo over to Dick. “I’m late enough as it is. If I keep this up I’ll have my pay docked.” She turned to walk off.

“I have a trust fund! You could be my sugar baby!” Jason called from the doorway. 

“You are so disgusting.” Dick glared at Jason. 

Jason scoffs. “She’s hot. Plus I’m not wrong! She’s way too young for Bruce.” 

Dick brought Echo in and set her on the couch. She had gotten used to the place thanks to Damian so she didn’t cry without her mom. She did try to crawl away when Dick started to scold Jason. She almost fell off the couch when a certain redhead caught her.

“You both are idiots.” Barbara held Echo under the little baby’s arms.

“BABS!” Dick came over and gave her a side hug before taking Echo. “When did you get it?” 

She smiled. “Alfred let me in through the service door.” She had her hair tied back like usual and a green turtle neck sweater. She flopped herself on the end of the couch near where Jason was standing and smirked at him. “You boys would be lost without me.”

Jason glared at her. “Oh shut up!”

“Jason, be nice. We could really use the help Babs.” Dick sat next to her.

“I know.” She giggled. “So this is Bruce’s latest pet project?”

Jason sat perpendicular from them in the recliner. “You shoulda met her Ma, Barbie. She was a smokeshow. Way too hot for Bruce. In fact, I believe it’s my duty to take her for myself to make sure Bruce doesn’t get canceled for this inappropriate relationship.”

“JASON STOP!! You’re being inappropriate!” Dick scolded.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Oh shut up! I saw the way you were looking at her! You act all high and mighty but you actually want to do exactly what I’m saying!”

Dick blushed and looked away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jason and Barbara could tell he was lying from the way he furrowed his brow. “She’s Bruce’s. He already called dibs and I’m not going to go behind his back. And you know what? I’m going to make sure you don’t either, JASON!!”

“Fine! Fine. Let’s just take care of the kid.” Jason grumbled and leaned his head against his fist, resting against the armrest of the recliner.

Barbara looked at him. “She’s not just a kid. She’s your sister.”

“Whatever!” Jason threw his hands up.

A little later Echo started crying so the three of them took her into the Kitchen.

“So what do babies eat?” Dick asked.

Jason shrugged. “I have some burritos from last night.”

Dick looked away thinking for a moment. “Well Echo can’t have solid food so you’ll have to put it in the blender.”

Jason shrugged. “If you say so.” He picks up Echo.

“THE BURRITOS NOT THE BABY YOU IDIOT!” Dick screamed. 

Barbara ripped Echo out of his hands. “Idiots, both of you. She left instructions for how to help Echo feed.” Barbara gave Echo her bottle and she started to suck. The littlest Wayne drank every last drop and Barbara burped her.

Dick smiled and gave her a thumbs up. “Wow! You’re amazing with her! You’re a natural!” 

“Thank you, Dick.” Barbara leaves to put Echo into her nursery. 

A few hours later you come to pick up Echo.

“Uh, Hello.” You grabbed your baby from Barbara. “It’s nice to see that she was in actually capable hands.”

Jason gasped. “Dick and I are plenty capable!”

You deadpanned at him. “Maybe so but Barbara was the first person in history to be awarded the Wayne Institute of Technology’s Scientific accolade while she was still in high school. I was very impressed with your work, Miss Gordon. Keep it up and someday you’ll be running Wayne enterprises for sure!” She shook Barbara’s hand and walked off with Echo.

Jason smirked and nudged Dick as Barbara was left their star struck. “I’ll share her with you.”

Dick looked down at his younger brother. “Deal.”

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow part 53

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 50, part 51, part 52

“You’re moving?” Dustin yells louder than he should in the middle of Family Video.

Steve just shrugs, like he didn’t drop the news of the century. “My parents are selling the house. Kinda means I have to move.”

“What he means,” Robin interrupts, slamming the new box of tapes onto the counter, “is that they are kicking him out.”

“They are not kicking me out.” Steve takes the first few tapes off the top of the box and starts loading the cart. “They’ve been talking about selling the house for years now, the only reason they haven’t is because I still lived there.”

“You still live there now,” Robin presses. “What changed?”

Steve sighs. Ignoring the question by bringing the mostly empty cart into one of the aisles. Refilling the shelves.

“Well?”

Another sigh. “They just, we had a deal that if I didn’t go to college in a year, that they weren’t going to support me anymore. Including the house. It’s been a year. Time’s up.”

Dustin really hates Steve’s parents. He’s never said it out loud, it’s been the silent thought in his mind. But it was true. He hated them. He hated them without ever needing to meet them in person. The soulless eyes in the one family portrait told him everything.

His mother would never kick him out for societal failures. She loved him for everything he did. Mistakes and all. There wasn’t anything he could do to make that change. Even if she knew all he’s been through, all he’s seen and done, he’d still never lose that love.

Steve, from what Dustin’s heard, had to earn it. It was titles on sports teams and cheaply made trophies. Medals and accolades. Something to brag about at business meetings. Something physical to pin their pride.

When it all stopped, so did their love. He became a leech that lived despite them. Now instead of lines upon lines of achievement to brag about, it was all about the son who failed to keep up with his father’s shadow.

Even when Steve is so much more than their rudimentary required achievements. When asked what Steve has done, who Steve is, awards aren’t in Dustin’s top ten. Steve was so much more than they could even pretend to appreciate. He was so much better than them.

“So making you pay rent the past year wasn’t enough?” Robin’s anger echoes off the walls of the store. Thank God there weren’t any customers. “Now they get to kick you out with nothing.”

Pay rent? Dustin didn’t know about that.

“I don’t have nothing,” Steve tries to defend. But the fight turns to defeat in his shoulders. “I can take anything but the furniture.”

How many times has Steve paid without Dustin even thinking about it? He had thought it wasn’t a problem for Steve. He thought that all the money Steve made was extra. His parents still paying for the house, his groceries. Providing for their child.

That was all Steve? He’s been paying them, paying for himself, for a year and Dustin didn’t notice.

“You don’t have a roof, Steve.” Robin radiates an anger that Steve doesn’t even begin to have. He just seems so resigned.

“Could you just drop it, Robin.” It’s the highest Steve’s raised his voice this entire conversation. Veering on yelling. “There is nothing I can do to change it. Nothing.”

Robin pinches her mouth shut. Angrily slamming tapes onto her cart. Each one with a dull thump.

Steve was moving.

“I know,” Eddie spits when Dustin asks him about it. “Got the call about it yesterday. Didn’t even know they were selling the place.”

Wayne walks in on his way out to work. “You still pissed about that?”

“I’m pissed for a lot of reasons, kinda hard not to be.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, fists clenching and unclenching. “I just wish he told me. We promised to be more open about stuff that was bothering us, and he didn’t.”

Dustin was following, but there was more to this conversation than he knew. Something that also explains the closeness that Steve and Eddie have had in the past few weeks.

He could assume. With what he’s heard, when he definitely was not supposed to be listening, it sounded like Steve might have had a thing for Eddie. Which grosses Dustin out for so many different reasons, but it’s fine. He can’t control who Steve dates, it’s just going to happen.

The thing was, he didn’t want to assume. He already felt weird about it when the school gossip was about who was dating just because they were close. It was another thing to speculate if people were gay. It just wasn’t something Dusitn felt right doing.

Even if he did suspect. His curiosity getting the better of him, and making him wonder. But the wonder was useless because he can’t just ask. Asking was wrong, and to the wrong person, would be dangerous. For reasons Dustin doesn’t fully understand.

So when Steve comes home and Eddie immediately gets off the couch to bug him. Dustin just shuts his brain off and forces himself to have some respect. If they were something, if Dustin’s stupid brain made correct assumptions, he was just going to wait for them to tell him. If they wanted to, they would.

He just hoped he made it clear enough that he would be safe to tell. He’d still love them if they actually murdered someone this time. That had to be enough to show them this wouldn’t matter. Wouldn’t it?

“I’m not talking about this right now,” Steve says while Dusting is slipping on his shoes. “I already got yelled at by Robin , I don’t need to hear the same from you.”

“How do you know it would be the same?” Eddie insists, following Steve to the stairs. Dustin didn’t notice before, but he’s not walking with his cane. Just himself. “I could be bringing it up in a completely different context.”

Steve sighs, crossing his arms. “Don’t care. I already heard enough about it today.”

He starts to climb up the stairs, Eddie continuing to shout after him.

“You know, you can’t hide upstairs anymore. My physical therapist said I can start thinking about doing stairs again. And I’m thinking of trying that right now.”

Eddie, not as hesitantly as Dustin would want him to, starts to climb the stairs. Slower than he has in the past, but he does it. Follows Steve into his bedroom, like what he just did wasn’t a major accomplishment.

“Jesus Christ this wallpaper is terrible,” Dustin can make out right before the door closes.

Wayne grabs his keys, nodding at the door. “Come on, I’ll drop you off on my way to work.”

“How long has he been able to do that?” Dustin can’t help but ask.

“I guess right now,” Wayne explains, pulling out of the drive. “He’s been stepping on some blocks as part of his exercises, but I didn’t think he was ready to do a whole staircase yet.”

He shakes his head. “No, I meant walking around without a cane. I thought he was going to use it all the time.”

“Yes and no. Yes, he will need to use a cane, and his crutches, on days when he needs it. Sometimes they can help with the pain, sometimes he needs them for the balance. But other days, especially if it’s a space he’s comfortable with, he can walk around without it. Really just depends on how he’s feeling that day.”

He was getting better. Again. Dustin thought he hit the peak of his progress, but he didn’t. There was still room to grow. To gain more strength. To find a way to act, and be, the way he was back at the beginning of the year.

Dustin forgot how it felt to look at Eddie walking around without any assistance, mainly because it felt like nothing at all. Before, it was just the norm. Now Eddie’s sucked into the world where the norm changes every day.

He’s grateful that things are getting better. He’s grateful that things are starting to get back to normal. But after having a reminder as big as the fourth, it’s hard to imagine that life can ever go back to perfectly normal.

But maybe, just maybe, if Eddie can adapt, if Eddie can continue to return back to the state of peace, Dustin can too.

Note: Here starts the last Dustin pov chapter. I keep saying these, but I can't believe it's almost over. I'm trying to get all of the parts of this fic out before the end of the year, so I'm starting to write the Steve and Eddie pov chapters. You guys are not ready for those.

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[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 6, Lilia's history edition:

(previous part of headcanons, here.)

Lilia wasn't born into sicilian aristocracy. She was born in the carpathian mountains. Her parents were romani, victims of persecution, and so she was orphaned & taken in by her maestra.

As a little girl, Lilia was insanely self-conscious, shy and withdrawn.

She used to have a pet goat. Hence my username. Now, she's upset that it's become some sort of satanic-associated stereotype that witches talk to goats.

When she started showing signs of her forgetfulness, her visions, her flashes—people will have treated her as 'defective' and 'faulty.' One of those kids that just 'isn't very bright.'

She hated the texture of those darn dresses. Her Maestra eventually noticed her discomfort and passed down the shirt and coat we see her wear on the road—since the costume designer said they were indeed passed down to her.

Her maestra taught her how to sew, knit—and a great deal of sicilian, Italian and greek recipes. Her maestra enjoyed cooking, and she enjoyed drinking tea.

Her maestra also taught her a little pan flute. It was many years kater that she studied the zills by herself. She had a lot of free time as a hermit, okay?

She'd get easily distracted, she wouldn't pay attention when others spoke. She'd struggle with eye-contact. Her voice would trail off. Once in a while, she'd get really excited about something and go on a long rant, until breathless—which would be met with judgement. She'd space out and others would laugh at her.

But despite the fact she was considered strange, even by her sister witches—her covenmates did love her. Like you live siblings even as you tease them—and she was one of the youngest, if not the youngest.

The maestra was undoubtedly a strict, no-nonsense woman. But she was also the first, perhaps the only person, who sat down to understand Lilia's unique condition. Whenever she'd catch her 'visiting,' which was often, she would focus on guiding & keeping her calm.

She was desperate to toughen Lilia up, seeing how afraid and insecure she was. The maestra worried for her and didn't want her to end uo helpless. So, she taught her everything she knows—like a mother—even if everyone else thought she was wasting time, since Lilia struggled a lot initially. (“tea-leaves, i was bad at tea-leaves...”)

Lilia's Maestra had known about the fever that will wipe out their coven since before little Lilia hot the vision—since on their first lesson, 450 year old Lilia time-slipping from the Witch's Road told her. Despite this, the maestra didn't tell Lilia, because having seen how dark and sad her future is, she wanted her to feel safe and happy for a little while longer.

The first time Lilia met Jen (and afterwards, the rest of them) was exactly then. As adult Lilia was talking to her maestra, little Lilia was in the tunnels, experiencing her life out of sequence as she always had. She simply couldn't remember the flashes of her future coven or make sense of anything.

Lilia tried to warn everyone of the fever despite the fact it was set in stone, because of her own denial. None of her covenmates believed her—'Looney Lilia is at it again'—but her maestra, who already knew it would happen, simply repeated that death comes for us all.

Lilia would see Rio all the time in her full-skull form when she was young, in flashes. Rio's been following her! She thinks they're besties! Lilia is scared shitless!

Lilia's first girlfriend was one of the Doñas de fuera. In the historical folklore of Sicily, Doñas de fuera (Spanish for "Ladies from the Outside"; Sicily was under Spanish rule at the time) were supernatural female beings comparable to the fairies of English folklore. In the 16th to mid-17th centuries, the doñas de fuera also played a role in the witch trials in Sicily. In historical Sicilian folklore, the doñas de fuera} would make contact with humans, mostly women deemed to have “sweet blood”, whom they took to Benevento ("the Blockula of Sicily"), by mounting them on magical, flying goats.

Compared to surrounding countries, the witch trials in Sicily were relatively mild: in most cases, the accused were either freed, sentenced to exile, or jailed, rather than sentenced to death.

In Lilia's case, after the death of her coven, when she was left alone, she was eventually put to trial and exiled from Sicily.

She traveled from medieval village to medieval village across Europe, chased with pitchforks each time. She thought every tragedy was her fault.

She was in Strasbourg, France, to witness the Dancing Plague. She tried to warn everyone, but they called her crazy.

Another old friend of Lilia's, while in France, was Carabosse, based on whom the wicked fairy/Maleficent was created. Lilia watched once more as she turned into a racist caricature after her death. MANY years later, she went and watched Tchaikovsky sleeping beauty ballet—and then proceeded to go and punch him also.

Heinrich Kramer tried to hit on her. If you don't know, he was a German churchman and inquisitor. With his widely distributed book Malleus Maleficarum, which describes witchcraft and endorses detailed processes for the extermination of witches, he was instrumental in establishing the period of witch trials in the early modern period. Professor Malcolm Gaskill has described Kramer as a "superstitious psychopath."

And Lilia, in fact, was good friends (potential fling??) with Helena Scheuberin, an Austrian woman who stood trial accused of witchcraft just because she herself had rejected Henrich Kramer's advances. During the trial, thirteen other people were accused. Lilia was one of them. Luckily, the trial was dismissed.

She stayed in Germany for a while, to live with her good friend (perhaps even girlfriend.) Aka, the witch from Hansel & Gretel. She watched her, later, be put to death in her own over—persecuted for witchcraft. And then, she watched again as her tale was combined with other medieval stereotypes and bastardized into an antisemitic stereotype that painted her as a cannibalist, child-stealing villain. Lilia hates it. She says it's a tale that celebrates the order of the patriarchal home, seen as a haven protected from the dangerous characters that threaten the lives of children outside, while it systematically denigrates the adult female characters, which are seemingly intertwined between each other.

She met Evanora Harkness when she was pregnant and deeply disliked her.

While in Germany, she was subjected to yet another witch trial. She survived, hasn't talked about how, but she has scars from it that she will not show. (Würzburg witch trials. The Würzburg witch trials of 1625–1631, which took place in the self-governing Catholic Prince-Bishopric of Würzburg in the Holy Roman Empire in present-day Germany, formed one of the biggest mass trials and mass executions ever seen in Europe, and one of the largest witch trials in history.)

After Germany, she went to England to escape that mess of trauma. And so she witnessed the Great Plague of London, lasting from 1665 to 1666, was the most recent major epidemic of the bubonic plague to occur in England.

She lived in Styria for quite a few years, where she dated Carmilla, from the lesbian vampire novel. Eventually, they broke up. Lilia had been empathetic at first, but grew tired of being fed off of and punched her.

Out of spite, she spent a decade or two in Transylvania, helping other vampires escape vampire hunting trials. She witnessed a lot of friends be killed.

She lived in Greece for a few years after the Greek War of Independence. Later spent time in Asia Minor, until she had enough of Greek and Turkish witches arguing about who coffee reading belongs to.

She became an opera singer in spain, for a while. One of the many jobs she took over the years. It's when she met Tchaikovsky, in a trip to russia, as mentioned earlier, and bitch-slapped that twink into oblivion.

While in russia, she also met Alexandra Kollontai.

She met Rosa Luxemburg during the First World War. She also met Clara Zetkin.

She went to Argentina for a few years, met Virginia Bolten.

So, America it is... She wasn't happy about it. She went to Massachusetts, like a moth to the flame. Not Salem, no—Boston.

She was friends with Sylvia Plath. Maybe they even kissed a little!! Lilia tried to help her, but couldn't.

Her mental health was so terrible that she couldn't hold jobs for too long. She worked as a seamstress, as a stenographer, a governess, a maid.

She got married to a gay man, one time, for a few years, because people grew suspicious. He died.

She decided she deserved to be alone, because she was a bad omen. A jinx, a habringer of doom. She chose the life of the hermit.

She was at the Women’s Suffrage Parade in 1913 in Washington, D.C.

During the roaring 20's she became a jazz singer. She wasn't able to continue, because she was getting some really bad mental health episodes.

She had to sell a lot of her old sicilian jewellery and good dresses for money after the economy crashed on 1929. The Great depression made her... Greatly depressed.

She was unable to keep paying for a house and started traveling with a caravan. If she'd stayed in Boston at that time, perhaps she could have met Jen. She didn't.

She was attacked & robbed three separate times while in said caravan.

Obviously she's a polyglot, familiar with the language of every country she's lived in. But even as she forgets words and confuses details between languages, she never forgets anything about her native tongue. She hasn't been in Italy for centuries, but all her notes & personal writings are in Sicilian. She really misses speaking it and she feels like she can never truly, genuinely express herself in English.

Before whichever war, due to all the death she was predicting, she'd scream and cry like a banshee. It's one of the reasons she repressed her magic, put it away, ignored it.

She was in The March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom on 1963.

She was in the stonewall riots in 1969. She made some friends again, non witch folk.

She was also in Woodstock, again, in 1969.

She did activism during the AIDS crisis. She lost the friends she made.

At one point she got bored and got a history degree.

At another point she got bored and got a philosophy degree.

She's taught in schools, once or twice, but was deemed unfit after a few years even though the students loved her.

She moved to New Jersey, opened Madame Calderu's Psychic Readings and Lilia's Leggings, but the money from that is still not enough. I mean, her house is decomposing, her bed is her wall, and her food is scarce enough that she doesn't mind a lapsed expiration date. Girl is dirt poor.

She does a lot of children's parties. She often hates the parents, though.

She has very few clients on the daily, but one of her regulars (in both businesses) is Madisynn King from She-Hulk.

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone X Male Reader) pt 9

More fic! More fanart! A meme! Thank you once again @your-local-furby, yes I AM going to link back to your art every time. Get appreciated loser (affectionate).

Also, all future chapters are going to link back to the masterlist for this fic! You'll also find the ao3 link there, and I'm going to link the art made for the fic there as well once I've got everything posted.

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

“You’re honest to god hopeless,” Alik says, “I hate to say it, but you are.”

You hear Tartaglia, number Eleven, laugh at your attempt to hide your embarrassment in your hands. “Twice, twice, how did I do this twice?”

“Didn’t you almost trip on Pulcinella forever ago?”

“That was Pavel, and he was drunk at the time.”

“So you haven’t tripped over him yet, gotcha.”

You groan in irritation before finally lifting your head up out of your hands. Straight ahead is Alik, who is taking delight in your newfound tendency to trip into members of the Fatui. In the corner of your vision, you can make out a partial profile of Tartaglia, your latest victim, sitting next to you. In front of him is the drink you bought him as an apology. You cannot see his face fully, and you are so embarrassed that you’re actually very thankful for that fact.

“Does your friend do that a lot?” Tartaglia asks.

“Running into people, or specifically Harbingers?” Alik asks in turn.

“Harbingers.”

“More than the average person should, I think.”

Tartaglia laughs. “You said twice, right? I would say it’s more than average for sure, especially if you’re still alive to tell the tale!” 

“Oh come on, the others can’t be that bad, can they?” Alik jests.

“Depends on the Harbinger,” Tartaglia says, “and depends more on their mood. I would say the Knave, the Captain, and Mayor Pulcinella would be the most forgiving, though honestly, it feels like Arlecchino can be fifty-fifty some days.”

You catch Alik’s sly smirk. “What about the Regrator? Is he forgiving at all?”

“Well, yes and no,” Tartaglia answers. “He’ll forgive you if you can make it up to him in some way.”

Alik turns their smile to you. “Lucky you.”

You see the Harbinger turn his head towards you, and you turn your head so you can see his face. “Wait, you…?” Suddenly, his dull blue eyes widen in recognition, and he grins. “It was you! You’re the one who spilled wine all over his new suit!”

“... I see my reputation precedes me,” is all you can muster.

Tartaglia continues. “It was all he talked about for the next week, how he hadn’t even owned it that long and already it was ruined, how much of a pain getting the stains out would be, and a lot of figuring out how much he should bill you for it. I was surprised he didn’t bill you for the whole suit!”

“The shirt was fairly expensive,” you say.

“Still, with how annoyed he was all week, I thought making you pay the entire dry cleaning bill was the least he would do. He’ll also tack on what some of the lower ranking agents have dubbed ‘the asshole tax,’ or the ‘inconvenience fee,’ as he would rather people call it.”

That actually gets a bit of a chuckle out of you.

Tartaglia leans props his head up in his gloved hands, giving you an inquisitive look and a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “So, do tell, what made him take pity on you?”

“It was an accident.”

This makes the Harbinger laugh. “No, no seriously, why?”

“... It was an accident.”

He shakes his head. “Pantalone doesn’t believe in accidents, he says they’re the result of negligence from people who should know better.”

“Just tell him you’re blind already,” Alik blurts out.

Tartaglia blinks. “What?”

“I’m legally blind,” you explain, “I have no peripheral vision, so I bumped into Pantalone and spilled wine on him because he wasn’t in my direct line of sight. I think he only made me pay for the shirt because he went on a rant about how foolish I am before my mother explained my condition to him.”

“Well, that’s certainly a new one,” Tartaglia comments, “he rarely takes pity on people, save for extreme cases.”

You take a swig of your beer instead of replying.

“Say, Tartaglia,” Alik says, prompting the young man to turn his attention away from you, “what else can you tell us about Pantalone?”

You shoot Alik a look. Tartaglia doesn’t see it, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “While I’m enjoying this little chat with you two, I’m afraid I can’t disclose too much about my more high ranking coworkers to anyone.”

“I’m not asking about his big plans for the bank or anything,” Alik says, “we just want to, I don’t know, learn some general information? Like what are some of his hobbies, or his favourite foods. Things to know if you want to get closer to him.”

“And why do you want to get to know him?”

“Oh, I don’t.” Alik points at you. “He does.”

You feel heat spread across your face, and it gets worse when Tartaglia looks your way, very intrigued. “Is that so?”

“I-I think I’m okay,” you state, “he and I, I mean I don’t know if we’re friends, b-but we get along fairly well! He’s partnered w-with my father, so I tend to run into him a lot, and we actually had tea the other day. Or, we were supposed to, but my parents decided to show up, so then after they left h-he and I had dinner so–”

“Pause,” Alik says, “you did not mention having dinner with him.”

“I didn’t?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I told you we still spent time after the ruined tea party,” you say, “does it matter if it was over dinner?”

“Pantalone doesn’t usually invite people to stay for dinner,” Tartaglia states, “I of all people should know.”

“He only did it because he wanted to discuss my book with me,” you explain, “but my parents’ intrusion hindered that. So he invited me to stay later.”

When Alik and Tartaglia look at you, they are both equally skeptical. You feel your face get hotter, and take another swig of your cold drink to cool yourself down. Then you remember it’s alcohol, so if anything it’s going to warm your face up even more. You stand up. “I’m going to the washroom,” you state, intending to splash water on your face and get out of the awkward situation you’ve put yourself in.

“Try not to bump into anyone else,” Tartaglia jokes, making your face burn hotter. When you walk away, you bump into a table, but that could just be the alcohol. When you disappear into the men’s washroom, Tartaglia turns back to Alik. “Pantalone certainly keeps interesting company when he wants to.”

Alik shrugs their shoulders. “I’ve only met him once, but I’ve known my poor sighted friend for years now, so I believe that.”

Tartaglia hums. He glances over his shoulder, seeing who and who isn’t listening. Most of the patrons are minding their business, and some are currently leaving the bar. Seeing the coast is clear, he turns back to Alik and lowers his voice to a whisper. “I assume your friend is happy about that, isn’t he?”

Alik chuckles. “What, ah, what gives you that impression?” 

“He’s not that subtle,” Tartaglia says, “and I might have overheard a little bit of your conversation before he ran into me.”

Alik lowers their voice so only the Harbinger can hear them. “Look, I’m not going to confirm anything, but true or not, it’s really important that we not let that sort of talk get around. As far as I’m aware, the Regrator might be fine with it, but his business partner, my friend’s father, is not.”

“Ah, I see.” Tartaglia takes a drink. “I can understand that. Rest assured, his secret is safe with me.”

Alik raises their brow. “That’s it? No blackmail or anything?”

Tartaglia chuckles. “No, that’s not how I do things. Ironically, that’s more the Regrator’s style, but he clearly likes your little friend.”

“Wait, do you mean ‘likes him’ in a friendly way, or…?”

Tartaglia smirks. “Who’s to say?” He takes another swig. “In all honesty, for someone who tends to drone on and on, he’s careful about his life outside the Fatui, or the bank. Though, I will say that even if I knew, Pantalone could and would have bought my silence.”

“Eh, it was worth a shot. You’d at least barter for a higher price, right?”

“I think he’d give me a satisfying amount on his first offer,” Tartaglia replies, “enough that I’d be smart enough not to push it.”

Alik tips their head back and pours the last bit of their drink into their mouth. They glance back at the bathroom, wondering when you’re going to come back. They jump a bit when Tartaglia places a hand on their shoulder, and motions for them to move in closer. Curious, they lean over a bit. Tartaglia cups his hands over their ear, and Alik shivers uncomfortably at the warmth of his breath.

“I’m not going to confirm anything,” he whispers, “but if your friend likes how things are progressing with Pantalone, I think you should let him keep doing whatever it is he’s doing.”

Alik pulls back a bit so Tartaglia isn’t whispering right in their ear. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. From what I hear, your friend is a ‘refreshing change’ compared to most,” Tartaglia continues, “so if he’s trying to get closer, he’s already on the way there if you catch my drift.”

The sound of a thud, a chair scraping, and a hissed curse is all Alik needs to hear to know you’re out of the bathroom. They look up and see you rubbing your knee, before you straighten up and begin making your way back to the table. Before you sit down, you look at the two and give them an odd look at their suspicious proximity.

“What’s all this?” you ask.

“Gossiping about your book,” Alik says.

“All the raunchy, lewd details,” Tartaglia adds.

You blush. “I told you I’m not adding that scene in.”

Tartaglia laughs. “I was just messing with you! You’re actually a smut writer?”

“No! Romance! Romance does not mean smut!”

“Not that he could write it, anyways,” Alik teases.

You sit down. “I wish I was blind already so I wouldn’t have to look at you.”

“Isn’t that a bit harsh?” Tartaglia comments.

“No, that’s pretty normal when he’s grouchy,” Alik says.

You throw back the rest of your drink, your now empty glass clacking on the table. “Well, this has been… one of the outings of all time. I think I’d better get going soon.”

“We haven’t been out that long,” Alik says.

“No, but if I stay out later, I’m probably going to have a couple more drinks,” you say, “and I don’t want to be writing hungover tomorrow. Plus, my mother will have a conniption if I’m out later than ten and the more I avoid that headache, the better.”

Alik sighs. “Fair enough. I have an afternoon meeting tomorrow. It won’t do me any favours if I’m groggy during it.”

“I suppose this is goodbye, then,” Tartaglia remarks. He offers you a hand, and you awkwardly take it. His grip is firm when he shakes your hand. “Thanks again for the drink, comrade! And for keeping me entertained for the evening.”

“M-My pleasure,” you say, “and, on that note, sorry again for bumping into you.”

Tartaglia watches as you and Alik put your coats back on and pay for your drinks. Alik trails behind you, and waves at him before stepping through the door and disappearing into the night. In the quiet bar, he takes his time finishing his drink before he bids the bartender a warm goodbye.

His cheeks and nose are a warm red, contrasting his white foggy breath. Soft snow crunches under his boot, the clusters of flakes falling around him glowing in the moonlight. Eventually, his feet bring him to a building he is all too familiar with by now. The doors are locked now, but he has been given a key to the back door, which he has been told time and time again to only use in case of emergencies. He knocks the snow off his boots as best as he can before he enters the bank properly.

With one of the only other people in the building being a heavily armed guard, Tartaglia’s movements are practically broadcasted throughout the bank as he makes his way upstairs. He’s loud enough that he doesn’t need to0 knock on the Regrator’s door. He makes it to the door and lifts his hand up and is told to “come in.”

He’s polite enough to shut the door behind him when he enters. He gives his superior Harbinger a smile. “Good evening, Regrator.”

“You’re late,” Pantalone states, keeping his eyes on the paperwork he’s scribbling away at.

“My apologies,” Tartaglia states, “I had a little run in earlier.”

“And that’s the third time I’ve heard you use that as an excuse for being late.”

“You make it sound like I’ve made tardiness a habit!”

“I can also smell the alcohol on you.”

Tartaglia takes a seat. “Now you’re making it sound like I’m a drunk. Besides, it’s not as if this is an official meeting.”

Finally, the Regrator sets his pen down and looks up at Tartaglia, shimmering stony eyes meeting dull baby blues. “I don’t care if this is a casual outing or a serious business deal, you know my expectations, Eleven.”

“I wish you were as forgiving to me as you are with that writer fellow,” Tartaglia comments, watching Pantalone’s reactions like a hawk.

Pantalone stills for a moment, and though his expression remains mostly unchanged, the inquisitive tilt and slight arch of an eyebrow is enough to satiate Tartaglia. “The writer? Why are you bringing him up?”

“Who do you think I had a run in with?”

Pantalone’s lips finally curl, and he just chuckles. “Ah, you’d think he’d learn after our first encounter. You’ve met him now?”

Tartaglia nods. “He bought me a drink as an apology, and we talked a little bit about you.”

“Good things, I hope?” Pantalone remarks, and while it’s easy to tell when he’s fishing for information, his intentions are currently hard to read.

“His friend and I were mostly teasing him about the suit,” Tartaglia replies, “but other than that, it was just small talk.”

“I see, I see…”

“Better than he does.”

“Mm, it’s funnier when he makes the joke.” Pantalone opens a drawer and pulls out couple documents stapled together, reading them as he shuts the drawer. “I received your latest proposal, and after doing the math, I found that for once you actually deserve more mora as opposed to less. Not as much as you would have gotten before your time in Liyue, but I think you’re wise enough to be happy about that.” With his eyes still on the paper, he reaches into another drawer and pulls out a jingling pouch. Without looking up, he hands it to Tartaglia, who accepts it graciously. “Don’t let this get to your head, and please don’t mention it to Dottore. Specifically Segment Kappa, he’s still upset I only gave him half the funding for his latest project, but I told him I needed a functional prototype by the end of the month if he wanted the rest of it.”

“I know the drill,” Tartaglia replies, “and isn’t Kappa in Fontaine right now?”

“Something about studying scuba gear, I don’t know, all I know is he’s not bothering me right now and quite frankly, it’s all I really care about. Now, do you have anything else to say or ask before I send you on your way?”

“I take it your four-thirty meeting went poorly?”

“Why do you ask?”

“There’s some blood splatter still above your left eyebrow.”

Pantalone stops and lifts his hand up to his forehead. He rubs at the spot above his eyebrow, and when he pulls his fingers back, he can see his finger tips have slightly tacky red residue on them. 

He clears his throat. “Goodnight, Eleven.”

“Goodnight, Regrator.”

[rose24207]

Hidden past

Summary: Lando discovers his girlfriend’s secret criminal past, born from her desperation to protect her family, and vows to stand by her side despite her insistence on handling it alone.

Genre: Mafia!Lando, angst, fluff

TW: Mafia, dealing, mentions of forged documents, theft, traumatic past

A/N: literally no one asked for this but there you go! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The rain fell steadily, painting streaks against the glass of Lando’s study. It was the kind of night where the world outside seemed distant and forgotten, and yet, for him, the world was suddenly far too close.

Lando leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes fixed on the thick report spread across the desk.

Her name was at the top, bold and unrelenting: Y/N L/N.

The papers within painted a picture he hadn’t expected—a story of desperation, of quiet rebellion, and of lines crossed.

Petty theft.

Smuggling.

Forged documents.

He traced the words on the page as if trying to soften their edges, but they refused to bend.

This was her.

His girl.

His strength.

The woman he had believed was untouchable, her laughter brighter than the darkness he carried within himself.

But now he could see it clearly: the shadows that clung to her, not unlike his own.

He set the folder down with a deliberate motion, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had spent years navigating a world of criminals and betrayals, but this?

This struck deeper.

The weight of her secrets felt heavier than any enemy’s blade.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak of the front door. He didn’t need to look at the clock to know she was back from her late errands—her voice reached him moments later.

“Lando? You still awake?”

He stood, the report still clutched in his hand, and stepped into the hallway. There she was, shaking off her coat, her hair damp from the rain. She turned toward him with that familiar, warm smile. But as soon as she saw his face, her smile faltered.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

Lando held up the folder, his expression unreadable. “I need to ask you something, love.”

Her gaze dropped to the report, and he didn’t miss the way her shoulders stiffened. Her eyes flicked back up to meet his, and he could see the silent calculations running through her mind. She sighed, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face.

“Let me guess,” she said softly. “You know.”

Five years earlier

The air was sharp with the sting of winter as Y/N stood at the edge of a dimly lit alleyway. Her thin jacket offered little protection against the biting wind, but she didn’t shiver.

She couldn’t afford to.

Her younger brother’s face flashed in her mind—pale, sickly, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths.

“We can’t pay for the medicine,” her mother had whispered that morning, her voice breaking as she tried to shield the children from the truth. But Y/N had heard. She always heard.

She didn’t hesitate when she left the apartment that night. She’d heard about a man who could “help” for a price.

“You’ll owe him,” a neighbor had warned. “And you don’t want to owe men like that.”

But Y/N didn’t care.

All she knew was that if she didn’t do something, her brother wouldn’t make it through the month.

Now, standing in the alley, she clutched the envelope tightly in her hands. It was sealed shut, the contents unknown to her. The man she was meeting didn’t ask questions, and neither would she.

“First time?” a voice drawled from the shadows.

She turned sharply, her heart pounding. A tall man stepped forward, his face hidden beneath a hat and scarf. His hands were stuffed into his coat pockets, but there was an edge to his posture—a predator sizing up prey.

Y/N straightened her spine. “I have what you asked for.”

The man smirked, clearly amused by her attempt at confidence. “Let’s see it.”

Her fingers trembled as she handed him the envelope. He opened it, flipping through the stack of counterfeit documents inside.

Satisfied, he nodded.

“Good work,” he said, slipping the envelope into his pocket. “You’ve earned your pay.”

He held out a small bundle of cash, but when she reached for it, his grip tightened on the money.

“One piece of advice, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low. “Once you start down this road, it’s hard to turn back. You ready for that?”

Y/N swallowed hard, meeting his gaze with a defiance that surprised even her. “I don’t have a choice.”

The man studied her for a moment, then released the money into her hand. Without another word, he melted back into the shadows, leaving her alone in the cold.

As she walked home, the weight of the cash in her pocket felt heavier than it should have. She told herself it was worth it. Her brother’s life was worth it.

But deep down, she knew this wasn’t the end.

Present Day

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lando’s voice was low, almost tender, as he looked at her.

Y/N crossed her arms, her chin lifting defensively. “Because it’s my past. And I’ve dealt with it.”

“Have you?” he pressed, stepping closer. “Or are you still carrying it alone?”

Her jaw tightened, and she looked away. “I didn’t think you’d understand. You’re—”

“What? Too clean?” he interrupted, a bitter edge to his voice. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to make hard choices?”

Her eyes snapped back to his, fire flaring in them. “You don’t know what it’s like to watch your family starve. To hear your little brother wheezing and wonder if this is the night he won’t wake up. You don’t know what it’s like to look at your mother’s tears and realize you’re the only one who can fix it. So don’t stand there and act like you understand.”

Lando’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what that’s like. But I know what it’s like to protect the people I love. And I know how it feels to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

She shook her head, her voice softening. “I didn’t want you to see that part of me. It’s not who I am anymore.”

“But it’s a part of you,” he countered. “And I love all of you, not just the parts you let me see.”

Her defenses cracked, and she looked down, her hands twisting together. “I thought I could leave it behind,” she murmured. “But it keeps following me.”

Four years earlier

The factory floor was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of oil and metal. Y/N stood at a conveyor belt, her hands moving mechanically as she packed boxes. It was grueling work, but it was honest.

She thought she’d left the shadows behind until a familiar voice broke through the hum of machinery.

“Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

She froze, turning slowly to see the man from the alley leaning against the wall.

His smirk hadn’t changed.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice sharp.

“Relax,” he said, holding up his hands. “I’m not here to cause trouble. Just thought you’d like a chance to make some real money again.”

“I’m done with that,” she said firmly.

His smirk faded, replaced by a cold edge. “You don’t just walk away, sweetheart. You owe us.”

Her stomach twisted, but she didn’t back down. “I paid you what I owed. We’re done.”

The man stepped closer, his voice dropping. “Nobody’s ever done. You’ve got skills, and we’re not letting them go to waste.”

She clenched her fists, the weight of his words settling over her. She thought she’d escaped, but she realized now there was no escaping people like him.

Present Day

Y/N let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “They didn’t let me leave. Every time I thought I was out, they pulled me back in. I was too scared to fight them. I thought if I kept my head down and did what they asked, they’d eventually let me go.”

Lando’s heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice. He stepped closer, gently taking her hands in his.

“And did they?” he asked softly.

She shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. “They only stopped when I left town. But even now, I still look over my shoulder.”

He reached up, brushing a tear from her cheek. “You don’t have to run anymore, darling. I’ll make sure they never touch you again.”

She pulled back, shaking her head. “No, Lando. This is my burden to carry. I’ve spent my whole life fighting for my family. I can handle this.”

“You don’t have to fight alone,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “Let me stand beside you. Let me help you.”

Her walls crumbled, and she fell into his arms, her body trembling with the weight of years of fear and guilt.

“For so long, I didn’t think I deserved this,” she whispered against his chest. “You. Us. I thought I’d ruined my chances at happiness.”

He held her tightly, his voice a low murmur in her ear. “You deserve everything, love. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

As the rain continued to fall outside, they stood together in the quiet, their shadows intertwining.

For the first time in years, she felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to carry the weight alone anymore.

Thank you for reading!

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Delicate (Jake's Version)

9 - Comme De Fleurs Nous Fanons

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: SMUT, cockwarming, protected!sex, feelings and lots of them, mention of death (wow these are wild)

A/N: Smut and sad wrapped into one nice, little heartbreaking package. The chapter title is hidden in one of the songs on the playlist, by the way hehehe. Take that as you will.

Taglist: @mrsevans90

Playlist

Mom: Where are you

Mom:  assuming you're with Jake

Mom: I don't care i just want to know you're okay

Mom: your father isn't feeling well at all

Mom: he wants to speak with Jake at some point about you

Sam awoke to what felt like five hundred texts but it was just the ones from her mom and a few from Nat.

Nat: tell Jake we really appreciated him paying last night

Nat; we had a good time

Nat: maybe we can do that more often?

Sam smiled as she texted her mother back first.

Sam: im okay, yes I'm w Jake, I will tell him dad wants to chat, be home in a bit

Then she text back Nat back. 

Sam: well would both like that, and he said no problem at all, he enjoyed it too

She had rolled onto her stomach, and there was a well-muscled arm strewn across her back. Jake was still snoozing, his breath warm as it hit her arm. She nudged him and he groaned, but opened one eye slightly, then smiled.

“Fuck yes, there's a girl in my bed.” He rasped triumphantly, jokingly, and Sam shook her head and leaned in to kiss him. She put her phone down and snuggled up close in his arms. She swung a leg over his hip and remembering that they went to bed naked, he thrust his hips toward hers, settling his hard length against her. He wanted to push it inside her. He didn't even want to fuck her at that moment, he just wanted to be as close as he possibly could to her.

“Hey, can I...put my dick inside you? Like just to put it inside you? I just wanna feel you.” He asked, his voice so soft and needy that Sam couldn't possibly resist. She didn't, as she positioned herself so that he could just slide right in. She wanted to feel him too.

“Just don't cum...I'm not on birth control.” She said and his eyes widened. He glanced down between them, admiring her pretty, round breasts against his chest.

“Like to live on the edge huh?” Jake asked, as he gently pushed himself between her folds, letting a satisfied groan leave his lips. He pressed them into her neck.

“No, I'm just very careful with who I let inside me . I very much doubt you're gonna get me pregnant and run, pretty boy. Dare I say, Jake Seresin , I trust you.” Sam's tone was confident and matter of fact and Jake nodded in agreement. He would most certainly not do that. He was raised better than that and if it came to it, he would take full responsibility for anything that happened between them.

Her wet warmth enveloped his length so easily and left him feeling like he could just go back to sleep. He was so comfortable with Sam. It was then that he made a decision that would change the trajectory of the rest of his life. No doubt he wanted to be chosen for this mission, but if he didn't get to be team leader, he wasn't going to be as upset as he would if he didn't have Sam to come home to. He wanted to make sure he could come home. 

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Jake’s voice was low but soft as he ran his fingers down her ribs, around the curve of her ass, drawing her in even closer. He knew he hit the deepest part of her when her brow furrowed and she whimpered softly.

“Yeah...” she sighed, as she brought her hands up and around the back of his neck. She toyed with the hair there.

“What kind of relationship do you want this to be?” He asked and her eyes fluttered shut. She puzzled over her answer for a few moments, as she shifted slightly, pushing him so that he was on his back and she was straddling him. Jake relaxed into the pillows and placed his hand at her hips. 

“I want to be done dating...I need stability. I hate dating. I hate getting to know new people. I just want to be comfortable with someone. Especially with my dad being...” She stopped, mind going fuzzy at the thought of her father’s condition. Jake watched as her thoughts went elsewhere and he ran his fingers up and down her spine, attempting to bring her focus back on him. Her eyes flicked to the sage green of his and she bit her lip. “Is that what you want too?”

“I don't want to fuck around anymore. It's honestly boring. I'm ready to commit to somethin’ long term. I want someone to come home to.” He said softly, reaching up to brush hair from in front of her eyes. Sam could tell by the way he stared at her, the way he vigilantly watched her every move, he'd fallen head over boots for her. Sam wasn't even surprised. This happened with most guys, but it for sure felt different with Jake. Most guys she'd been with wanted to parade her around, introduce her to their friend and family, brag that they'd bagged a Naval Commander’s daughter. Jake had been humble about all of it though. It wasn't about the outside connections that would benefit him. Even when he had the few moments to show her off, he did it in a way that oozed confidence but was also respectful, which was on par with what Nat had told her about him.

“So were both compliant then?” Sam mused and Jake could feel her beginning to giggle, but she stopped herself, as her fingers weaved through his short hair, making him press into her hand.

“Yes ma'am. So official. Where do I sign?” He asked, voice husky as Sam scratched his scalp leisurely. She'd come to realize just how much he enjoyed her hands in his hair, so she was all too eager to please him in that sense.

“We need to discuss a few things before you sign.” Sam said and he drew back, slight panic crossing his features. “I think we need to be honest about past partners...”

“Okay?” Jake shifted and he felt his length soften, finding the conversation suddenly less interesting. He didn't really want to discuss his past partners like this, but he gave her pause because it was so clearly bothering her at that moment. 

“I've known Bradley for years because of Mav. I slept with him once, when I was with Dad, visiting NAS Oceana. There's no feelings from my end, but I know Bradley is still a little sore that I picked you over him.” She explained and Jake pursed his lips. 

“Ah...okay...well...I slept with Nat once. Only once. And there are definitely no feelings on either end. She kinda hates me.” He pressed in closer to Sam and she dissolved into a fir of giggles against him.

‘She doesn't hate you. She just knows your reputation with women and feels stupid for being another notch in your bed post. She thinks it makes her looks unprofessional, where it's already hard for her as a female pilot.” Sam reasoned and Jake understood completely. 

“I'm sorry she feels that way. I didn't intend it like that. I was a whore in my younger years and I really don't want to be that anymore.” He said and Sam grazed her nails up and down the back of his neck as the conversation went silent for a few moments. Jake's cock had checked out for a few with the awkward and serious nature of their chat, but with her hand at the back of his neck, it was beginning to gain interest again. She hiked her leg a bit further up his hip, needing to adjust her position for whatever reason, and that had him immediately hard again. He poked his nose at hers, gaining her attention. “Can we go back to the talk about where I sign on to bein’ your boyfriend full time? I think I'm like, a prime candidate for the job and since it's open...” 

“You are one smooth asshole, you know that?” Sam chuckled and she let her lips be drawn to his. She couldn't help it. It was like he had this unavoidable gravity that she got caught up in and couldn't escape.

“But I could be your smooth asshole.” Jake said with a smirk, his lips hovering over hers. He was achingly aroused now, not forgetting that he was already inside of her. Half of the work was done. 

“You already are mine. You waltzed in like the cutest, most confident stray puppy and had no doubt that I'd keep you.” Sam joked and Jake grinned.

“Please don't take me back to the pound. I'm too good looking.” He said, taking the opportunity to carefully move his hips back and forth a few times.

“Jake...careful.” Sam's voice turned stern but there was still lust on the brim. He rolled and pulled her with him, untangling them deftly from the sheets. He tapped her leg.

“Hop off my cock for two seconds.” He commanded and Sam’s brows furrowed and she couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips as she raised herself up and off of him. He reached over into the drawer of the night stand and plucked a condom from it. This one had a pink wrapper. “Ooh. This one's nice. One of those warming ones.” He said, ripping it open with his teeth, spitting the foil to the side of the bed, and rolling the condom over his length which was at full mast now. He reached for Sam, and she knowingly re-mounted him. 

Jake's hands gripped her hips, but then one hand went down to guide his cock back inside her. Both of her hands were on his chest, playing with the sparse hair there as she eagerly relinquished control to him. He slid inside with ease and a soft whimper left his lips that made her blush. The fact that the big, tough Hangman sounded like his composure could fail at any moment underneath her, made her hot. The sounds he made spooled heat in her loins like no other man had ever. It did nothing good for her own ego that Jake was a writhing mess for her. 

“God fucking damn it. You feel so damn good on top of me. So good wrapped around my cock, babygirl.” Jake's words had an edge to them, all desire and a little something Sam might have called reverence, but that might just be what she wanted to hear. 

“You need to stop with the pet names or I'll cum right now.” She moaned as he sheathed himself to the hilt, hitting the deepest parts of her. There was a twinge near her belly button that caused her to glance down at where they were joined. He was fully inside of her and it hurt so good. 

“Don't say shit like that. You're gonna awaken some sort of kink that I ain't never knew I had.” His voice took on a southern twang, making Sam shiver slightly. There was the good ole small town Arkansas boy she wanted. The California pretty boy came right the fuck out of him when his basal instincts took over and he reverted in speech and mind to his country boy roots. Sam would bet money that he had some kinks that she could get on board with. She's always wanted a pretty country boy to fuck her in the bed of his truck underneath the stars, so maybe she'd hint at that the next time they were in the truck. 

“Yeah, Jake? What kinda kinks do you have? Tell me, handsome, I wanna know.” Sam teased and a deep growl settled in Jake's chest as his hands took a hard hold of her ass. He wiggled both and then firmly slapped them, prompting Sam to yelp and dig her nails into his pecs. 

“You. In control. For one.” He said, pressing his head back against the pillows and using his whole body to bounce her up once, his actions begging her to get going. “Ride me like you stole me. I know you know how.”

Sam swallowed hard at his words, feeling breathless as she gazed down into darkened sage green eyes. They were calculating, and patient, but there was ferality to them that she wanted, no, needed, to tame. She took in a deep breath and she began to move her hips, not up and down but more scooping back and forth, so that her clit ground against the freshly shaven skin just above the base of his shaft. She was already on the edge of her orgasm, having had him settled inside her for such a long time beforehand, so she didn't need much to get her over the peak. 

“That's it, babygirl. You look so good up there, with those perfect tits bouncin’ up and down. Fuuuck . Use me . I wanna feel you cum on my cock so bad.” Jake's voice was strained, a needy whine at the end of his words that made Sam come undone so fast and hard that she saw stars as she moaned his name, loud and proud. Sweet, rapturous notes danced around his name, leaving her lips and filling the air in the room. She threw her head back in ecstasy, and raked her nails down his chest, which made his resolve fizzle out. He filled the condom, but he wished he was spilling inside her bare. He'd absolutely settle for what he was getting though, because it was a dream come true for him either way. 

Sam collapsed on top of Jake and he could feel for a moment how they were both in sync, breath ragged, hearts pounding in their chests. His hands traveled up and down her sides and her back, fingers dipping at the indent of her spine. She reached for his hair, massaging with the pads of her fingers softly. 

“Signed, sealed, delivered, huh?” Jake mused which made Sam burst out with laughter. Jake chuckled too, feeling warmth spread in his chest. It was unfamiliar to him as it was not a lustful warmth. It was something he felt few times before, something he felt that was similar to the comfortable warmth he would feel when he saw his brother or his parents after a long time away. His cold and seemingly uncaring heart filled with the warmth of love for Sam as she hovered above him. 

“Jake...I am so comfortable with you. I really like that...” Sam said and Jake's thoughts for a minute were ‘not feelings talk again’ but he let her continue, because not only did he know that he loved her, he also respected her. She had earned that immediately from him, by way of her own cocky confidence and intelligent retorts. “And...I am really grateful to you for helping me get through what's going on with my dad. I feel alone with it sometimes...”

“Remember I said you tell me when you feel like that and I'll take it away?” Jake murmured as he wrapped his arms around her lower back and squeezed gently. She made a satisfactory noise.

“Yes. And you are. You’re making me pretty fucking happy when I probably shouldn’t be.” Sam whispered and Jake’s brow furrowed at her admission. She lifted her head then, moving her arms to his chest, and propping her chin on her hands to look directly at him. “Which, by the way...my dad wants to see you. Wants to discuss you and I.”

“Nothing bad I hope? I actually wanted to talk to him too though, so I guess it’s good timing.” Jake said, as they settled and both became quiet and comfortable in the silence. Jake would try to talk to Ice later that day.

🛩🛩🛩

Ice wasn't doing well. Now he was having more trouble breathing. His cancer was back and it was fierce. Maverick had just been to see him a few days ago. Now he had another visitor. The blond knocked gently on the door and Ice made a motion for him to enter the room. He'd asked not to be put on a ventilator. He knew his time was coming and he wanted to go out at least a little like himself. A little bit of dignity left. 

Jake Seresin pulled the chair to the edge of the bed, where Iceman was propped up on a pillow. His phone was on his lap and he was resigned to the fate of using the notes app to communicate. Ice held a hand out and Jake shook it carefully. He felt like he might break the man. Jake hadn't known him personally for very long, but now that he did, it almost made this whole thing worse. Ice put his other hand over Jake's and patted it a few times before picking up his phone and typing something to show to him.

How's the training?

“Hard. Mav is tough. Expects a lot, but I guess that's good.” Jake said, glancing over at Ice with solemn eyes. Ice smiled. He typed again and showed Jake.

And Sam? 

Jake drew in a sharp breath and swallowed hard. He could've sworn the ring in his pocket vibrated in anticipation. The ring that he’d snuck away from work to buy. The ring that he felt like he was maybe making a mistake with. The ring that he’d spent way too much on for a woman he barely knew, but for once, he was going to wing it and trust what he was feeling deep in his heart.

“Uh, well sir, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. And I knew you wanted to talk to me about her too, so maybe we’re on the same page.” Jake said softly, glancing at the door. Ice nodded, having a feeling he knew what Jake was about to ask. He placed a hand over Jake's again and took a minute to type something out.

You're a good pilot. You remind me of...me...when I was young. Just the right amount of arrogance and loyalty. The kindness and respect you've shown my daughter is something of a unique and admirable quality. Not many men can be so honorable with someone else's daughter as you have been. You must really love her, though you’ve only known her for a short time, but...when you know, you know.

Good that Ice didn't know what he and Sam had gotten up to in private though. Jake's brows knitted as he stared into Ice’s eyes. Tears welled and his jaw worked as he gathered his composure enough to ask Ice the question he'd come to ask. He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. 

“Sir, I would like to ask for your blessing...to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage.” Jake's voice was shaky and Ice smirked. He pulled Jake toward him in a hug. When he let go, Ice typed out his response.

I would be honored to have you marry my daughter.

Jake let his breath out and took a deeper one. He smiled and thanked Ice. They sat in a comfortable silence for a little longer. Ice only asked one thing of him.

Just be there for her, Jake. She doesn't need anything else but you. Especially now. I won't be here for much longer. 

Jake's mouth tightened, knowing he was right. Sam would need him more than ever very soon.

[runes-menagerie]

There was no pity in Sky's words or actions, simply concern for a friend. She had seen how diseases progressed in the Undercity and while he did look worse than when she saw him last, he still looked better than he likely would have had he stayed. For that she was grateful but it didn't ease her worry entirely.

"I don't pity you. You've made it so far. I... I just want to help you keep going if I can. i worry since I've seen people in worse states and I don't want you to get to that point but I'm not trying to placate you. I've been more honest with you than i have with my own mother." She replied softly, earnestly. She wanted him to understand that when she spoke to him it was the truth, not what she thought he wanted to hear.

"You're welcome and lucky for you, Viktor, I know how to combine multiple treatments into a single tea." She said with a wry smile as she gave his hand a soft squeeze in return. She was glad that he seemed to accept her concern and was willing to let her help. "And they taste better than the stuff the Piltie doctors made me drink during my health exam."

When he suggested breaking into the lab tomorrow night she frowned in thought. It was true that she did have a few days before her classes started so she wasn't concerned about that. However it wouldn't surprise her if House Young was paying someone to monitor her movements to make sure she wasn't doing anything to dishonor the House's name.

"Yes. I... I don't know if I'm being watched but I should be able to sneak out. Should we meet here or would another place be better?" She asked while tuning her hearing to the area around them. She had been passively keeping track of any sounds that might indicate someone nearby but now she focused on it. Thankfully they were still alone so she turned her focus back to him.

 Her words were ones of genuine concern, not pity. It took him a few seconds to believe it, but he was sure that she wasn’t simply fretting for the hopes of gaining his favor. Mentioning ‘the progression’ had him reminded that the disease was, in fact degenerative, and no matter how much the clear airs of Piltover helped, he still probably looked worse for wear than when he was a teenager.

 His somewhat sharp gaze grew softer within moments of him recognizing her sheepishness. Perhaps that had put her under to bright a spotlight for frustrations he ultimately had with others, not her. With a little sigh of self-aimed disappointment, he adjusted himself in his seat and looked back at her.

 “I’m sorry. I know you’re worried about me. I am just too used to pitying words and futile attempts at placating me. It is as if they do it to make themselves feel better for having looked at me.” He glanced down at the hand on his shoulder, taking it into his own and giving it a chivalrous kiss. “Thank you for your concern, Sky.” He meant it genuinely, that honesty showing in his gaze.

 A chuckle bubbled out of him at the mention of more tea. “I will have traces of blood in my tea stream, eventually.” He made sure she knew he was receptive to the idea by giving her hand a squeeze. “Alright. I will give that one a try, too.”

 His thoughts returned to her need to have her blood tested, and he reached over to put his hand on her knee. “I can get us both in as soon as tomorrow night, if you’re willing to follow me through some air conditioning vents.” His smile turned a little impish, ready to commit mischief.

[nightfallsystem]

cw very upsetting vent in tags

[itshomobirb]

if my parents keep talking to me im going to (remembers that suicide jokes are bad for mental health) go outside and dig a hole to narnia

[hauntingblue]

ARCANE DAY

Episode 4 and 5 in the tags and:

SALO BEING A VIKTOS FOLLOWER??? CRAZY. ALSO BOTH VIKTOR MISSING JAYCE AJDHSKSJ also cait has kinda calmed down... and I am sure she misses vi so I KNOW this is going to happen to her soon.... we aren't getting much of her feelings yet... she's still too onto Jinx to catch up on where ambessa is going...

DID JAYCE JUST KILL SALO??? WHAT HAPPENED IN THERE

Also vander not recognizing vi at first until she gives up fighting.... incredible ALSO vander and silco being miners and vi wearing her gauntlets that were initially thought out for miners.... damn

This is my favourite episode so far....

Episode 6 here:

Sky really being there..... of course she is....

Ambessa training caitlyn.... of course thats her new daughter akdjskms Tunnels in your eyes.... GIRL!!!!!!! THAT'S WHAT YOU DON'T NEED RIGHT NOW also the guy outside is a mage... ambessa is such a hypocrite

Vi and Jinx vs ambessa and cait.... this was always about class war don't get it twisted SINGED!!! TRAITOR!!!!

ARE THEY GOING TO SEE VIKTOR???? I looove how viktors touch on their faces leave "scars" so recognizable

Did isha just take the gem from vi's gauntlets??? Omg I wasn't expecting viktor to build a hippie commune to be honest omg he looks so good.... with the blonde underhairs.... and I do believe that's the same blanket....

And of course viktor knows who vander is.... nvm he diesnt know omg viktor asking for Powder.....

We are getting viktor horsegirl montage.... omg the vander momtage I can't..... omg they wanna stay.... singed is gonna fuck all this up NOOOOO 😭😭😭 they are already there I am going to kms

CAITLYN STOP THIS MADESSS!!! ✋️ CAITLYN!!!!! VI KILL THIS MAN!!! OMG CAITLYN...... mongoose... yeah.... and fuck you too.... CUPCAKE!!!! ABOUT TIME!!!! CAITLYN I SAID STOP THIS MADNESS WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!!! And jayce too 😭😭😭 we're never making it out of the fissures

It's such a shame the spit on here won't work like on challengers.... one can only pray I guess

Jinx experiencing the "there's nothing more undoing as a daughter" moment.... incredible

"Your absence provided a vacuum I was able to fill" TO VI???? I KNEW THAT HAND HOLDING IN THE COMMANDER SCENE WAS SUS AKDHKASJ maddie exists and ambessa knows that and still.... it was not filling her mother's void...

YES CAITLYN!!! YES!!!!! VI is so hot I am distracted... ambessa was right.... now what the fuck will jayce fuck up??? Thats the question... NOT ANOTHER CHILD!!! jayce is a menace... the guys smiling at jayce are viktor... maybe the child even....

JINX KILL THAT MAN!!! NVM VANDER KILL THAT MAN!!! JAYCE YOU FUCKING MORON!!!!! JAYCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WHEN I GET YOU JAAAYCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Isha what are you going to do omg 😭😭 did she kill vander... another powder... my god another week...

That was such a good fucking episode too.... and caitlyn didn't go insane when finding Jinx that is a step forwards but viktor can't be dead... no fucking way... he was giving himself away for the people and he was going to finally die by saving vander and look at what we got... no wonder viktor hates his guts. Jayce you were so good in act one.... what happened..... alright. Christ.... another week....

[cienie-isengardu]

I admit, I personally do not see Bi-Han as a person interested in gossip for the sake of gossip. More like a man that would like to be left alone and in peace than to deal with other people’s nonsense. But that is exactly what makes those intro dialogues so funny and no less interesting for me. Bi-Han for whatever reason does listen to other dead people’s complaints, cries for revenge or just about missing their children and is passing the messages to the living. Which highlights the “dead are my family” mentality when the man is all about the cold death and perfection, but also raises a question, was he asked to do so by those souls? Or is he just part of death in a way that allows him to know stuff like that? 

(And don’t let me start on the “return to your mother’s arms” or the general theme of rejoining someone in death. There is so much to say about it!) 

I may joke about Bi-Han hanging out with other dead to gossips, but frankly, I think this is more like gathering intelligence and the collecting data is the result of his assassin / Earthrealm Defender upbringing. What is even more, as much as Bi-Han definitely likes to know secrets of others, I love the implication from MK4 that he indeed share(d) those secrets with Kuai Liang

Sub-Zero (Kuai Liang)’s BIO:“After Shao Kahn’s defeat at the hands of Earth’s fighters, Sub-Zero’s warrior clan known as the Lin Kuei is disbanded. But with the new threat brought on by Quan Chi, the ice warrior once again dons the familiar costume once worn by his brother, the original Sub-Zero. He also holds secrets passed onto him from his sibling… secrets that could hold the key to stopping Shinnok.”

A passing of secrets that MK4 comics even showed as Kuai Liang’s flashback.

Personally, I see Bi-Han less as someone engaging in gossip and more as someone that for sure pays a lot of attention to everything that is said around him. He is great at listening and yes, the fact he caught Tanya calling her superior just as Mileena when agitated/upset and connecting the dots on spot says a lot about his experiences with picking up the clues and seeking the weakness to exploit. Bi-Han himself said, “Everyone has a weakness” and he for sure enjoyed finding a weak point of Tanya!

But also, this idea of Bi-Han listening from shadows to others’ gossips, whispers and prayers is in fact inspired by old comics Mortal Kombat: Baraka (MK Babality) from 1995

(mind you, the comics is from 1995 so Noob Saibot was not yet a really established character. I'm including this as example of Bi-Han solely just because of Noob Saibot's connection to his lore)

For me, one should always be on guard around Bi-Han for you never know when he will steal your secrets, even from simple gossip.

But in all fairness, there is something incredible funny to imagine Bi-Han being stuck between arguing and idle talking (dead) people - and maybe even encouraging them to spill all the spicy details and deepest secrets (especially if this is Kung Lao's family as I picture them arguing like Mulan's dead ancestors in Disney animated movie 🤣).

I get that MK11 wanted to present Noob Saibot as the edgelord, especially as Death, Darkness and Shadow is his character theme, but intro dialogues like this:

Noob Saibot: Vera's soul calls you. Jacqui: Keep mama's name out your mouth, Revenant! Noob Saibot: Revenant? I am Wraith!

or

Noob Saibot: Your dead ancestors whisper. Kung Lao: With quiet pride, I'm sure. Noob Saibot: They mock you, Kung Lao.

or

Noob Saibot: Gorbak's spirit cries for vengeance. Sheeva: Our feud with the Osh-Tekk is over. Noob Saibot: You abandon your traditions.

and

Noob Saibot: Onaga whispers your name to the Dark. Sheeva: I shall not be his puppet as Goro was. Noob Saibot: He would have you for his bride.

made it looks like Wraith Bi-Han is hanging a lot with dead people just to gossip 🤣 What of course makes sense, as Noob Saibot repeatedly said that dead are his kin now. And also fits MK1 Sub-Zero's habit of collecting secrets.

On another hand, Noob can be also seen as medium and messenger between alive and dead ones ("Vera's soul calls you", "Gorbak's spirit cries for vengeance"), so as a BONUS, here a MKX's intro dialogue in which Bi-Han is the one (dead) calling to the alive:

Kung Lao: Seen your brother lately? Sub-Zero: Noob Saibot's whereabouts are unknown. Kung Lao: He calls to you from the other side.

[knifekris]

every day i struggle to make choices

[dumb-coward]

Not my mother asking me if I wanna go to japan with her. Like?? I said no. I just told you I cant afford it.

[graciebrams]

🫧