#google is just like Here is when electricity was made or Here is the guy who invented this motor and it’s like great that’s useless to me

[my-darling-boy]

I know this is a reach but anyone with family from Birmingham (even better if it’s near Hay Mills or Stockfield) do you know of any electrical plants that used to be in this area that may have been torn down or still stand? I’m researching a man who, between the 1920s-1940s, used to be an electrical engineer, I’m assuming on the assembly side of things, and lived in those areas. For the life of me I cannot fully understand what kind of work life he would’ve had as such and was looking for photos of the insides of these places to hopefully see a man working in assembly to get an idea. I’ve been at this off and on for months, Google is absolute shite, I can’t find any books that are helpful, and have yet to find a map that shows me potential factories. I know this is probably gonna send me to a local archive, but before it gets to that point, even if you just live(d) in Birmingham, might anyone have any leads on old electric plants that involve assembly, I’m mostly just looking for pictures inside these plants to gain a better understanding of my man’s work life and what he might’ve done/wore but hey if I find a lead as to where he might’ve worked, that’s even better!

[bloody-peach]

Eat Me, Drink Me (Hazbin Hotel: Vox x F!Reader smut fic)

(Gif made by me, original image found on google images)

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Now Playing: Muse - Sing for Absolution, Marilyn Manson - Blood Honey

Goodie bag: vaginal sex, drugs (aphrodisiac), vaginal fingering, clit rubbing, drinking, dom Vox, bottom Y/N, vanilla stuff around the end [let me know if i missed anything!]

A/N: Yep, had to make some smut with Vox now, didn't I? Welp, here ya go! I would recommend listening to the recommended songs while reading this, to get into the atmosphere. Headphones required, just for added experience. ENJOY!!

Taglist: @omniuravity @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @neonvehk

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You left the Hotel, exhausted. You had to deal with Niffty trying to kill new guests, Angel Dust’s bullshit with Cherri Bomb, and Husk drinking his life away on top of all the other duties you had there. But the worst of the worst was Alastor, he always loved to torment you and make you suffer or feel scared. Even now as you walk further away from the building, you could still hear his laugh deep in your mind. At least you were able to leave for the night, but you always felt like someone was watching you. Someone....much more powerful than you.

Vox, the TV Demon, has had his eye on you for some time, ever since he caught you on the hotel’s TV commercial. He remembers pausing the clip when it froze on you and he’d jack off, just imagining of what he could do to you. He was obsessed. And he decided that tonight was the night.

You kept walking when you heard electricity buzzing. You looked and it was just a broken neon sign, but it still left you uncomfortable. You kept walking, but the buzzing came back. You started to quicken your pace to try to escape the noise or the potential source of it, but it just kept following you, even when you started to run. You then run into a brick wall, realizing you must’ve turned a wrong way while you ran. You just turned with your back against the wall, unable to escape. You saw a glowing blue square in the dark along with small blue zaps of electricity spreading through the area. Soon, the thing came closer to reveal it was Vox, the overlord that controlled the masses through the visual media. You had never met him before, but you felt a sense of dread, thinking this was another guy just like Alastor. Once he came close to you, he said, “It’s nice to finally meet you, darlin'.” You sigh in mild annoyance and say, “Look, I just...Alastor already torments me. If you just want to make my life a living hell like he does, then don’t bother. I don’t need another demon doing it too.” You didn’t have anything against him in particular, you were just too stressed out to deal with another demon who wanted to watch you suffer.

Vox’s red eyes flickered with a mix of confusion, then it turned to deep-seated rage. “Alastor...” he snarled. He controlled himself and then looked at you, with a slightly annoyed look in his face. “Is that why you were running? Because of that radio trash?” He put his hands behind his back, and said, “You know I’m not like him, right? I ain’t the type to get off to torturing folks. Well, not much at least. But you’re different.” He smiled as he placed his hand on your shoulder, “I don’t want to see you suffer, Y/N. I...well, i’m not entirely sure what I want with you.” He looked a little sheepish, an emotion you didn’t expect from him, but he quickly fixed himself and played with a strand of your hair. “But I do know I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I don’t plan on hurting you.”

You wondered why he knew your name, but then another thought came to mind. “Wait...you know Alastor?” He then chuckled, saying, “Do I know him? I wish I didn’t. That motherfucker and I go way back. Can’t stand him, frankly. He’s all about radio and all that outdated shit, but me? I’m all for anything new, as you can see.” He then petted your head. “Has he been giving you a hard time? Of course he would, he always enjoys that kind of shit. You poor thing.” His gaze softened as you put your head down, your expression full of fear and sadness, due to those traumatic memories. Vox gently grabbed your chin and brought your head up to look at him, saying with an unusual tenderness, “I promise you, Y/N, I ain’t like that. I can be...different. If you’d let me.”

You got the sense that he seemed to care for your struggles, but you’ve been in Hell for a long time. Very rarely have you encountered a person who actually cared about anyone. The only ones you knew of were Charlie and Vaggie, and out of all of Hell, that’s saying something. How can you trust what this man was saying? How can you be sure he isn’t out to hurt you or take advantage of you?

You look away from him, your face still holding that sad expression. “I want to believe you, but...how do I know you’re not just manipulating me? This is Hell, after all. Hard to find a genuine soul around here.” Vox sighed, the sound of static echoing through the alleyway. His eyes held a look of understanding, a flash of empathy. “Can’t say I blame ya for thinkin’ that way,” he admitted. “This place isn’t exactly known for its honesty.” He petted your head again, this time almost touching his forehead on yours, his voice going soft. “I don't know if I can promise you heaven, Y/N. But what I can promise you is that I ain’t here to make your life more miserable than it already is.” He then extended his hand, a smile on his face, “How about we try something? No tricks, no manipulation. Just you and I. See where it goes.”

You think about it. Well, he did seem pretty convincing, and whatever he had to offer had to be much better than what you have to deal with on a day-to-day basis.

You sigh and say as you shake his hand, “Ok.” Vox’s screen lit up with a cheerful grin as he felt your hand in his, the cool electricity sparking between your fingers. “That’s more like it, Y/N!” He said as he shook your hand. He let go of your hand and stepped back with a flourish. “Now let’s get outta this dump. If we’re gonna be...whatever we are, we might as well do it in style.” He then had an idea, his eyes glowing with excitement. “How about we head to my place? The entertainment district ain’t much, but it beats this shithole any day.” His usual cocky smile returned, the light of his screen casting a glow around the alley. “Besides, I’ve got the best view in Hell. You won’t be disappointed, I can assure you.” You smile, liking the idea. “Ok, that sounds real nice.”

You end up following him to his place and you’re amazed at how luxurious it was. Expensive furniture, so clean you could eat off of the floor, and a couch in front of a large window, showing the hellish night sky. You look out the window and he could see your eyes sparkle with delight as you marveled his abode. “Wow...you can see all of Hell from up here!” He chuckled as he crossed his arms, finding your joy adorable. He could get used to making you this happy. “Told ya, didn’t I? Best view in Hell.” He strode over to join you by the window, his eyes looking down at the fiery grounds below. “You get a good look at this place, you realize it ain’t all that bad. Got its charms, don’t it?” You turn to him and you nod. He turns to look at you, a genuine smile lighting up his screen. “Glad you like it, Y/N. Hopefully it makes your whole...situation a bit more bearable.” His gaze lingered on you for a few moments longer before he turned away to the bar, his screen showing an unclear emotion. “Now, how ‘bout a drink? I got a stash of the finest bourbon in all of Hell. Helps take the edge off.” “A drink sounds great. Thanks.”

He smiles to himself, knowing that you were slowly starting to warm up to him. “One helluva drink, coming right up!” As he grabs the bottle of bourbon, he then had a thought. He sat the bourbon down and dug out a small vial from the inside of his tux. It was a bottle of Valentino and Velvette’s ‘Love Potion’, an aphrodisiac they were collaborating on. Val gave him a bottle as a gift, but he never thought of using it. But knowing what Y/N had been going though day by day, dealing with that radio fucker’s bullshit all the time, he figured that maybe you needed a little something to help you relax, to feel pleasure and bliss instead of pain and fear. It’s not a betrayal of your trust if there’s good intentions behind it, right?

He pours the potion into the bourbon and mixed it, making sure Y/N wasn’t looking. “This stuff’s got a kick like a mule, but it’s smooth. Just like me.” He chuckles at his own joke, and he hears her giggle along with it. Oh, how he adored that laugh and how he hoped that once his plan worked, he would hear more of it, along with other lovely sounds. Once he poured a glass for himself, he brought the glasses to the couch, giving you the tainted drink and offering you to sit on the couch with him. You couldn’t help but blush a tiny bit from how he looked, the way he was sitting, offering you to join him in a moment to yourselves. You sat next to him, a bit shy, but soon relaxing in the couch. Vox raised his glass, the light from his screen reflecting from the swirling liquor. “To new beginnings, Y/N. May they be as interesting as the journey here.” With that, you both clinked your glasses together, the sound echoing through the room as you both take a long sip, his eyes never leaving you. Luckily, you didn’t notice his gaze as you downed the drink completely.

You could handle bourbon pretty well, that’s pretty much what Husk served at the bar usually, but never as high quality as this. “Man, this stuff is really good. Sweeter than any other bourbon I’ve had.” ‘Yeah, that’s the love potion that’s doing that,’ Vox thought in his head. He smirks, watching you enjoy the drink. His heart pounded in his chest, light flicks of static on his screen due to anticipation. “Glad ya like it, Y/N. It’s a special brand, adds a bit of sweetness to the usual burn. Perfect for those wanting to unwind.” He couldn’t deny the thrill he felt, seeing you this relaxed and comfortable in his presence, even if it was artificially manufactured. He knew it must’ve been a rare sight, one he’d yearned to see for a while now.

He finishes his drink, sitting his empty glass on the coffee table. “Feeling better, sweetheart?” He asks, a tinge of genuine concern in his voice. As he asked that, you started to feel a change in your body. You started to feel way more relaxed, your mind beginning to feel a bit hazy. You weren’t sure why; maybe the bourbon was that good. Your body started to feel hot and you could feel a throbbing feeling between your legs. “I...I’m not sure...I...I feel kinda funny...” you say, your voice slightly slurred. Vox’s smirk widened, his eyes glowing with a devilish delight. “Oh, it’s just the effects of the bourbon, darlin’. Besides, you’ve been so stressed out, you haven’t had any time to just sit and relax.” He moved closer, his hand lightly tracing a line up your arm, causing you to shiver. “Just relax and enjoy the ride, Y/N. I promise it’ll be one hell of a time.” His voice drops to a sultry whisper, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “You trust me, don’t you?” You feel your face grow even warmer as he started to pull you closer to him, his face so close to yours. “I..I guess so... You are a lot nicer than Alastor..” Vox chuckled, the sound low and rich in his throat. “Well, that’s the highest praise i’ve ever heard.” His hand rested on the small of your back, his fingers tracing small circles against your shirt. “I told ya, didn’t I? I ain’t like him. Not one bit.” He tilted his screen down, his glowing eyes meeting your slightly dilated ones. “Just relax, my dear. Let ol’ Vox take care of ya. You won’t regret it.” With that, he leaned in, pressing his lips against your forehead softly, something you were confused on how that worked, but that thought flew away like all the others. “Just trust me, Y/N. I won’t let ya down.”

In what your mind could come up with, as you stared at him and as he spoke with you, the thought of letting him take the wheel was starting to sound really good and you figured that it was better to trust him than anyone else in Hell. At least for now. “Ok..” Vox’s screen lit up with a triumphant grin, his red eyes glowing with delight. “That’s my girl,” he purred, his hand tightening around your waist. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. He whispered against your lips, “You're so cute, Y/N. Just keep relaxing. There’s no need to fight it.” His other hand started explore, trailing down your body to rest on your thigh. His fingers squeezed gently, a small spark of electricity coursing through your body, causing you to moan. He knew your body was growing more sensitive by the minute. He pulled back, his screen displaying a smug smirk. “That’s it, baby. Enjoy the good feelings. Don’t be afraid, darlin’. I’ll take good care of you.”

His hand continued its exploration, trailing up your thigh to rest on your hip. He dug his fingers into your flesh, pulling you even closer against him. His screen returned to your face, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re so responsive, sweetheart. It’s...intoxicating.” He leans in to your ear, his screen barely touching it. “I’m here. There’s no need to be scared.” His touch felt so good, all you wanted in that moment was for him to touch you more. “Ok,” you said. Vox chuckled, his eyes glowing with anticipation. “That’s what I like to hear, Y/N.” His hand slid up from your hip, tracing a path up your side and under your shirt. His fingers curled around your breast, squeezing gently, causing a soft gasp to escape your lips. “You’re so sensitive, darlin’. It’s so sweet.” His other hand slid down, resting on your thigh once more. He pulls your leg around him, positioning himself between your legs. He then starts to slowly strip you of your clothes. You were getting really hot, so it was a relief to get all those clothes off. Soon, you were completely nude before him, on full display. Vox’s eyes roamed your naked form, a low buzz rumbing from his chest. “Damn, Y/N. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” His hands traced over your body, exploring every inch of your skin. He savored every moan and gasp, his touch sparking bits of static wherever he touched. He leaned in, his lips against your neck. “I'll make you feel all kinds of good, baby...”

His hand slid down, tracing a path down your body to rest between your thighs. His fingers teased your folds, a spark of static making you gasp. “That’s it, Y/N, just enjoy it,” he murmured, his voice a soft whisper in your ear. He then moved his face to you and kissed you deeply. You kissed back just as deep, moaning in his mouth as you felt his fingers slowly slip into your pussy. Vox groaned into the kiss, his fingers going deeper into you. He savored your moans, the taste of you on his screen intoxicating. He pulled back, a devilish smirk on his face. “You’re so wet, baby. All for me.” His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp. His other hand was busy teasing your nipple, pinching and twisting it until you were writhing in his arms. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you...”

With that, he picked up the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a fervor that left you breathless. You moaned more, the pleasure growing in intensity, “Ahh..mm..ohh..” Vox grinned and moved his fingers faster, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. The combination of him working on your pussy and playing with your breast had you crying out, your body trembling in his arms. “You’re so close, I can feel it. Go ahead and cum for me, baby girl.” It’s not too long until you cum, covering his hand in your juices as your body tensed up.

Vox growled, his eyes glowing with satisfaction as he felt you release all over his hand. His fingers slowed, gently stroking you through your orgasm. He slowly removed his hand and marveled at the wetness on it, licking it up until his hand was clean. “You taste so good, darlin’. So good..” His hand moved up, gently brushing a stray hair from your face. “You alright, Y/N?” You were there, still somewhat dazed from your orgasm. But there was one thought going through your head. “I...I...more...I need more...please...” Vox chuckled, “Needy little girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry, baby. I’m far from done with ya.” With that, he gently laid you down on the couch, his screen and his body hovering over you. “You ready for more, Y/N?” “Yes...please...I need it...” Vox’s eyes glowed with excitement. “Good girl, ” he purred. You see him take his jacket and pants off, revealing his hard and erect cock. You just sat there, amazed by its size. Could an overlord have a cock that big? Vox smiled, saying, “You like what you see?” He gave his cock a few strokes, pre-cum leaking from the tip. “It’s all for you, baby girl.”

With that, he lined himself up with your entrance, his hands holding your thighs gently. He slowly pushed himself inside you, groaning at the tightness that enveloped him. “Fuuck...that’s it, baby... take it in deep..” Once he was fully inside you, he started to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. You gasp and moan in pleasure as he thrusts into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting the pleasure consume you. Vox felt a wave of pleasure hit him as he felt your arms go around him. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out.” His thrusts picked up in pace, each one hitting that sweet spot inside you. His hand moved down, his fingers slowly rubbing your clit. “You’re so tight, darlin’. So fucking good..” With that, he picked up the pace, his cock pumping in and out of you. “Ahh..ohh..V..Vox...i..it feels so good...” you moaned, causing Vox to grin. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.” He continued his assault on your pussy, pounding into you so much that you were seeing stars. You weren’t sure how many times you came, but you didn’t care. You just wanted Vox to keep fucking you.

“Gahh, fuck yeah...gotta get even deeper...” He then stopped his thrusts and pulled out of you, flipped you onto your belly, and grabbed your hips. “Hold on tight, Y/N. It’s gonna be a wild ride.” He lined himself up with your entrance once more, pushing inside you with a single thrust. He quickly sped up his thrusts, making you a moaning mess. “Ahh..oohh..yes...yes..I...I love it... I love your cock...!” Vox grinned a prideful smile, proud of the fact he was causing you to lose yourself just from his dick. “You’re such a dirty girl, baby. I fucking love it.” It’s not too long til he could feel his climax coming, and he felt your walls flutter, meaning yours was coming too. “Cum for me again, Y/N. Let it out.” “Ahh..mm..V..Vox..! Please cum in me..! Please..! Fill me up with your cum! I can’t take it anymore..!” Vox growled, your pleas of ecstasy driving him further over the edge. “You ready, baby girl? Ready for me to fill you up? I’ll do it, but only on one condition. You belong to me from now on. You like that?” “I..I’ll do it! I’ll only belong to you, Vox! Please, fuck me!” Vox smiled, thrusting even more. “Alright, darlin’. Here it comes...!” With one final, powerful thrust, Vox released inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his cum. “That’s it, baby..Take it...take it all..” You cum at the same time he does, feeling his cum filling up your womb. You cry out in pure pleasure, your body riddled with pleasure. It was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Vox kept thrusting, but he started to slow down, letting you both ride your orgasms for as long as possible.

Once everything was done, he pulled out of you and marveled at the cum-covered mess your pussy had become. He smiled, and pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “You did amazing, baby.” He brushed a strand of hair away and he looked at you, a bit concerned since you were so quiet, “You okay, Y/N? Do you need anything?” You turned to him and he was amazed at how beautiful you looked. Your eyes looked so full of joy and bliss, and your smile was so warm and genuine. You could almost cry if you saw it for yourself. He felt his heart flutter when he saw that. Yeah, he made the right choice.

You hug him and rest your head on his chest. “I love you so much...”

Time stood still for a moment for Vox when he heard those words. He hoped that he would hear those words come out of your lips towards him, and seeing and hearing it now, it filled his heart with joy. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. He let out a quiet chuckle, his screen pressing against the top of your head. “Well you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? I feel exactly the same, baby girl.” He gently waves his hand and summons a wisp of smoke around your neck and along his hand, it soon turning into a collar with a chain leash, him gently gripping onto the chain. You now belonged to him, permanently. And he wasn’t gonna let just anyone touch you like he just did.

He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back in a soothing rhythm. “Just rest now, Y/N. Vox has got you.” You let yourself drift off to sleep in his arms, forgetting about the world and any worries you had. Vox cleaned you up and carried you to his bed, laying you on it then entering it himself. He pulls you close, letting the sound of your breathing and the beating of your heart lull him to sleep.

~~~♡♡♡~~~

[cartierdreamx]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖔 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑 *1*

OMG HI MY SWEET LOVES <3, I hope you’re doing well, and your week was great! I am so so so excited to share with you the first chapter of my new Mafia AU series, and I am even more excited to write it (the love you showed to FAD and my drabbles warm my heart so so much), I don’t want to reveal but because I want you to read that, but I will say both you and Jenna are 25 in this story, something about 25 just seems like the right age for this. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and if you do, please consider reblogging, following and commenting! Thank you all for your constant love and support! J <33 

If you would like to be apart of a taglist so you know when the next chapter comes out, comment down below or let me know thru asks!! 

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader 

Warnings: slight angst, slight dark themes, swearing, mentions of weapons and violence. 

This fic is STRICTLY 18+, as it involves adult themes, minors DNI, you are responsible for your own social media intake, which includes reading entertainment which this fic falls under, so one last warning- this fic is 18+. Thank you!

FYI: JENNA IS G!P IN THIS FIC!! 

~~

Words flow through you with ease, you inhaled words the same way oxygen seeps into your body, and like carbon dioxide leaving, what left instead, was art. Your art. So, journalism was destined for you, it was your calling, you would have gone into publishing but there was something about people that drew you in, and there was the fact that you lived in the Bay area, your home, well developed into your home, you moved a few years back because something in you sparked and said to move, you knew the opportunities would be great, and you proved yourself right. You found yourself working for an independent, yet big journalism company right in the heart of Silicon Valley, the tech city, right where the hearts of Google and Apple reside. They pay good money, having saved enough to rent out a loft close to work and have your own car, a black Toyota 86 with a custom spoiler and a lip kit wrapped around the body and the colour so deep and rich, Batman would be jealous. But there was one thing that was missing, rumination would fill your mind, if journalism was destined for you, why couldn’t the heart of someone be too. Love. You were missing love, what’s yours will come to you and everything happens for a reason would be a constant mantra of yours, but patience was a draining one, and love is a losing game. Not to worry, your words would keep you company and that would be enough, right?

“Y/N!” Solana calls out for you, your boss, manager, bff, mother, every occupation under the blazing sun, she’s that to you.

The corner of your mouth connects to your ears and your eyes widens as the auditory sounds hit your ear drums. You loved her with your whole heart,

“How’s my sweet girl doing?” She rushes towards you with such sass, it makes you giggle.

“Better now that you’re here.”

“Awww, I love youuuu.”

“Huh?” You giggle, extending your hand out to grab the drink she clearly bought for you, then giving her a mocking wink.

“Oh, you dickhead.” Solana exclaims as she realises your sweet confession was directed towards the ice latte.

A soft tsk leaves her mouth as she rolls her eyes at you, as she leans over your shoulders, she reads over what you’re writing. You were a talented writer, everyone wanted you and not just journalism, anything that included writing, they wanted you. But for some reason Solana’s company ‘Bayseyes’ reeled you in, it felt like second nature to you, it felt like home, electricity rooted in your fingers when your touch met with the keyboard during your trial shifts when you were a rookie, no other branch made you feel this way. And plus, you really loved how ‘Bayseyes’ wasn’t toxic, the information was fished out and you and your colleagues had high rating articles, but no negative connotation was linked to you guys unlike other journalism and tabloid companies.

“This is good y/n.”

“Aw, thank you.”

“If you worked at TMZ.”

“OKAY OUCH, if you hated it just say that smh.”

“Y/N, it’s good, but I know you to be amazing, scrap this and write a new one.”

“Okay, be honest, are you trying to murder me? I feel like a 10-inch knife has just been plunged deep into my heart, I’ll write a new one but you’re giving this story to a rookie, this is too beautiful to be deleted off this sweet universe of ours.”

“You are so dramatic you know that? Fine.” She was right, you are dramatic, but in a fun, ironic way, it’s what made people laugh and what this world needed was more laughter, as sad as it sounds, you used that same dramatics and turned it into a play when foster parents would meet you, whilst at the same time, flaunting that big heart of yours. However, fostering is easier said than done, every change of parents and every house you had to learn the layout of, was never your fault, you were so loved, but you can’t help but blame the change on you each time, if you were so loved, why didn’t you have a home. You were close once, almost about to have your forever home but problems with the system always won. Almost is never enough.

A bright, mocking smile paints you face as Solana scoffs at you, she always gave into your needs and want, but you always provided her with what she needed, in every form, so she can’t help but have a soft spot for you, giving in to your commands.

“So, what is my little rising star going to write about?”

“Hmmm royal family? The coronation, OH! There’s talk that there was a paparazzi high speed chase with Meghan and Harry.”

“Like every other journalism branch? We’re not TMZ babes, we’re better.”

Folding your arms and leaning back into your chair, suffocating Solana’s fingers, you scoff out of disappointment. Feeling Solana’s fingers squirm out from the space between your back and your chair, you swivel around to face her.

“Well, I don’t know what you want, everything has been milked.” As the words leave your tongue, you see her mouth form a smirk paired with a smug look. “Sol, what did you do?”

“Yes, everything has been milked, but not this.” You see an emerald, green paper with hints of gold flash into your eyes, the glossy material reflecting off the lights. Your lips purse inwards and your eyebrows scrunch down, if confusion ever knew your name, now was when it screamed it.

“What is that?”

“Well Ms. L/N, this, this is rarer than any diamond, pearl or ruby out there, you’ve been invited to Jenna Ortega’s annual masquerade ball.” Her smirk now turning into a cheese, a cheese so wide it was starting to creep you out.

“As in, mafia leader Jenna Ortega?”

“Yup!” She says ever so positively.

“As in, most feared women in San Francisco, HELL, maybe in America?”

“Oh well, that’s subjective.”

“NOOO, it’s fact.” An obvious annoyance paints your face as you bite the right side of your lip, knowing there was no fighting this, as much as you didn’t want to attend, you couldn’t say no to her, and plus, this invitation is so exclusive, more exclusive than the MET, which you, not to sound snobby, you’ve been to, not as a guest though, but obviously as a journalist.

“You’re going Y/N, that’s final, I’m speaking as your boss, we need this, YOU need this. No one has ever been close enough to her to get an exclusive, it’s always been assistants on top of assistants on top of body guards, I need you to work your charm.”

A big sigh escapes your mouth, your sign of submission and defeat, looks like you’re going to attend. You can’t help but feel a small strike of lightning hit your aortas though, but your pride was too big for you to ever admit that to Sol, to be fair, you can’t remember the last time you went out and enjoyed yourself, though you can’t promise you’d enjoy this ball, you can’t remember the last time you got dressed up, baddie up, just in general felt pretty about yourself. So that, and only that had you excited, oh and maybe the little fact this story could make you, Sol, and anyone under the name of the company MILLIONS.

“Okay fine, but only for work.”

“Oh sweetie, I want you to get laid too.” The same cheesey smile back plastered on her face as wide as the curve of a banana was really starting to get to you now.

“If I say fine, will you stop leering at me with that monstrous smile of yours.”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

“Okay my smile is back to normal now, but I’m serious, thought I want you to write a global hit, I also want you to have fun, you’re 25, Jenna is 25, I want some grandbabies.”

“WOAHHHH SLOW YOUR ROLL, first of all you’re 33, no grandbabies, second of all, no! I’m not hooking up with the head of the Ortega mafia family, and definitely not getting pregnant.”

“But she’s hot.”

You throw your hands up in the air and swiftly placed your face in them once you brought your arms down.

“Just because she’s hot does not mean I’m getting pregnant.”

“AH HAH, so you agree she’s hot!”

“Okay that’s it.” You stand up and start grabbing your things, trying to shake off what Sol just insisted.

“Waitttt, where are you going?”

“Lunch, away from you.”

“NOOOO, I was kidding, okay fine, at least have lunch with me, you can try on your dress.”

“You have my dress already? Wait- when is it?” Sounding hesitant, thinking you had more time until the ball.

“Heh, tonight.”

You freeze and stop in your tracks, a million thoughts illuminating your mind, what’re you going to wear, make up, shoes, hair, hookups??? And maybe the fact that you’re going to be in a room highlighted with the word danger. Not saying that weapons would be blazing all over the room, but you felt a sense of caution attending, Jenna had enemies, it’s the mafia, without enemies are you really in the mafia. Her main enemy though was the other mafia family, the hierarchy goes Ortega and then Marcello, they were also feared but Ortega was more liked. You never liked that life, the whole mafia thing, sure it was family oriented, and they never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it, no women, no children, well Ortega anyways, Marcello ran on different values, they were ruthless, but they knew better than to cross Ortega’s lines, it was the one thing they feared, and they could never find a way to make Jenna vulnerable, Jenna would loves herself and the family too much to let herself be vulnerable. She is Bay city’s most feared and most eligible bachelorette.

“ARE YOU INSANE? THERE’S NO TIME.”

Sol cups your face and blows on you “there is plenty of time, you’re leaving early, we’re going to get lunch, then you’re going to try on your dress, you get ready, and I will do your hair and makeup, make Jenna fiend for you.”

“You have got to calm it with Jenna.”

“Yeah, whatever come on.”

~~

Back at your green infested loft, adorned with all the books, warmth, and plant babies you could ever imagine, you get Sol to place a blindfold on you so the first time you’d see the dress is when she takes off your blindfold in front of your mirror.

“Are you ready?”

“Very.”

As she takes off the blindfold, your eyes take a second to focus on your figure in the mirror, a floor length, ruby red dress drapes and cherishes every beautiful curve of yours, the high slit showcasing your leg accentuates your ass, every cinch of the corset top pushing up your ample bosom, with just enough fabric draping over your shoulders, but not enough to call them sleeves.

“Wow.” Was all you could muster up to say, shocked at how glistening your beauty was, you can’t remember the last time you felt this way about yourself.

“Wow, indeed, but honestly, you deserve more than a wow, you’ll capture everyone’s eyes, and especially Jenna’s eyes.”

You let out a soft giggle, opening your arms and taking her in, “thank you so much for this.” She was taller than you so one hand rests on your head and the other around your back and waist whilst your arms bear hugged her entire waist.

“You deserve it, love, now come on, we have to do your hair and makeup.”

~~

Stepping into Ortega towers was every bit of excitement and nervousness all at once, like you were going to throw up but instead of germs and digested food, it’d be confetti. A red carpet was rolled out for guests and paparazzi hugged both sides of walk behind golden ropes, you were a nobody, so you wanted to swift your way into the building. You couldn’t help but take in the city views even if you were at ground level, and the towering building in front of you captured every breath in your lungs, it was an architectural dream, heights reaching mountains but curves and twists and openings everywhere you looked. There were two main towers, the roots of the building curving towards each other and then straightening up with a long adjoining room, connecting one tower to the next, assuming that is where the ball is being held. And as if that wasn’t enough to impress you, there was one more adjoining room at the very top, like a princess keep at a castle, but instead of being the size of a small bathroom, it was the width of both towers and the gaps in between, you could only assume that is Jenna’s penthouse. Sources online stated that the towers was home to the Ortega family, where Jenna spent the most time, where missions and meetings were officialised, an office space for hundreds of workers, and a tactical space for hundreds more body guards and loyal subjects, and a small rumour suggests that there is an unground vault filled all the riches you could imagine, and of-course, every weapon they needed.

The blinding lights stung your eyes, but luckily it took a matter of seconds for you to get in. Though your gold mask with intricate designs hugging your face didn’t help as the lights just reflected gold flashes into your eyes, part of that mask covered the top left side of your face and your entire forehead, leaving the right side naked but the mask hid your identity enough. You were met with security looking at every guest’s invitation, handing them yours, you were given the okay, batches of people swarm the elevators trying to get to the ball. Luckily you didn’t have to try that hard as, despite the hundreds of guests attending, everyone was calm, collected and all listening to security, though it might’ve been the fear that coerced them to submit to their instructions.

Once the elevator doors open the lively music entered your ears which made you laugh a bit, despite this ‘party’ being a masquerade ball, there was youth in the air, no boring classical music, but you were sure that they’d be some of that later in the night. Your first instinct was to dash for the bar, free drinks, free food, and you planned to make Jenna’s pockets hurt even just the tiniest bit, but then that motivation was short lived when your slow ass finally realised that this ball would have thousands of sponsors and donations.

“Hey! What can I get you?” A bartender greets you with a warm smile.

“Pornstar martini, please.” Keeping it on the sweet side, and plus you didn’t want to make a face every time you took a sip out of your drink because the alcohol taste was too strong.

“I like your style, ma’am, coming right up.”

You take mental notes of your surroundings and what your vision is telling you, you would’ve brought along a small note pad or pulled out your phone, but now was not the time, and you’d be caught dead before someone thought of you as that cliché quirky girl trying to be different so you could catch someone’s attention. Noting your surroundings, you see a bunch of masks, no shit, but you realise all the workers and body guards had matching suits, uniforms and masks, workers and body guards having different looks but under those subcategories, they were all matching, it was cute but a bit cliché you admit. Not wanting to expose yourself as a journalist straight away, you make small talk with the bartender, asking questions that wouldn’t compromise you.

“Soooo, I’m kinda new to this scene, who do you think is worth my time?”

“Well ma’am, look around and try to scan people’s faces and mannerisms, I’m sure you’ll be able to spot out some celebrities, find the ones you love and charm them, they’ll make great company for tonight.”

“And the host?”

“Heh, Ms. Ortega likes to keep it on the downlow, if you catch her attention, she’ll come to you, but her groupies always get to her first, and because their hearts are filled with greed and lust, they’ll never give her back to the party.”

“Lust rearranged is slut, KIDDING, KIDDING, I’m sure they have their reasons of wanting her.”

“No, you’re right, cus all they want is money, never genuine, always just sex.”

“But Ms. Ortega is a playgirl, she enjoys it too much to let them go?”

“Right on the nose ma’am.”

You give gratitude to the bartender for keeping you company and allowing yourself to get comfortable and adapt to the scene, but you had to let them go and do their job or I’m sure someone would’ve complained or worse, someone might’ve thought you were hitting on them or vice versa. Making small talk with strangers always pained you but you were good at it, one of the many perks about journalism, the information you want, you’d get it one way or another. But alas the open bar finally catches up to you when a tall, with a heavy dusk scent interrupts a rather pleasant conversation with the superiors of a pharmaceutical company.

“Heyyy, baby.” He slurs, trying to inch closer to you grabbing your waist but you wiggle out of his grasp, standing your ground behind your company.

“Sir, you have no business disturbing this young woman.”

“Well, you have no business disturbing the party in my pants, this young woman was going to attend.”

His comments made you sick, your shoulders tense up as you try to shake the feeling of his touch away. You had the tendency to shut down during situations like these, you want to scream, want to stand your ground, but your body wouldn’t let you, instead you hold your fort and protect yourself, shielding your cage from any comments that came towards you.

“Aw, now you’re silent, come here and I could have you screaming all night.” He reaches out for your wrist but luckily security got to him first, and they were anything but gentle, you were glad though, he got what was coming to him. It did surprise you that security apologised for his behaviour, giving you a gentle smile all at the same time inducing a fear into the man who disturbed your evening.

“Oh my, Ms, are you okay?” A man from your company asks you, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yes, thank you, I’m okay, I’ve been through worse.”

“We’re glad to hear that you’re okay, would you like anything? Water?”

“Nooo, thank you for the offer though, but I’m really fine, thanks for calling security though.”

A look of confusion clicks on their face, almost simultaneously too.

“Uh, as much as we wanted to, we didn’t call them, we couldn’t find one in time.”

“Oh, weird, but luckily they saw, anyways, it was really lovely chatting to you guys, but I’m going to head out for some fresh air.”

“No worries at all Ms. L/N, you were a pleasure, please, you’re more than welcome to come up and chat again when you come back.”

Their comments warmed your heart, you shook all their hands, giving them a smile and moved towards the nearest door to a balcony. Once you stepped outside the cold yet refreshing breeze wrapped around your skin, making you shiver a little, but your body warmth and adrenaline was enough to calm the goosebumps down. To keep time going, you admire the city lights, you were so in love with San Francisco, and you were convinced it was in love with you too the way it welcomed you into its economic heart. Out in the distance you could see the iconic Golden Gate Bridge, blinkering and flaunting its lights to the entire city whilst providing guidance to the cars and vehicles passing through. You were in a trance, but there were no complaints coming out of you, just serenity. Too hyper focused on the view you didn’t hear the door open behind you and you certainly did not feel the presence of another body walking towards you.

“Enjoying the view?” Anonymous asks, after the whole fiasco with that grotty man, you were sure to be careful of random people coming up to you but something in you told you not to worry, the city spoke to you, and you listened.

“Very much, I’m so in love.” To your obliviousness, you don’t realise the other body with you is her. Jenna Ortega. The head and heir to the Ortega mafia family.

“Any right-minded person would be jealous of the love you have for the city.”

You giggle, and realise you feel your blood raise to your skin and your heart rhythm picks up a pace but wanting to keep their anonymity and for your own mysterious fun, you don’t turn around.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means any person would be jealous a city is getting your love rather than them.”

“Who says my love is worthy?”

“A beautiful woman like you? I can only imagine a small amount of the love you hold.”

“Beautiful? You don’t know what I look like.”

“Oh, please Ms L/N, you’ve been grabbing my attention all night, everywhere I looked, there you were, the light reflecting your beauty. But then an ugly man stood in your way, so I had to send security to escort him out, well throw him out, as you saw.”

Your heart fastens, you were sure it was going to jump out in a second, oh how badly you want to look, but you can’t. This was too much fun. However, this was the way to grab your attention, definitely not like how that man was doing earlier.

“You know how to charm a lady.”

“I try, might I ask, what do you think about the host.”

You let out a small huff of air, ironically this was your line, but now you’re the one being asked, you were at a standstill.

“Jenna? I don’t know, she’s a hard book to read.”

“And you’re good at reading people?”

“The best, but I don’t know, people are scared of her, the most feared women in America.”

Jenna giggles.

“You’re not scared?”

“Hmm, no, mind over matter always, she can have all these weapons and power, but I don’t know her mind, her true mind, so I have nothing to fear.” There was a slight bluff in that line, of-course you were slightly scared of her, who wouldn’t be? But that fear was surface level, just guns and weapons and power.

Though you couldn’t see who you were talking to, you could feel a smile form on their lips, but more of a proud smirk.

“Do you think she’s hot though?”

Okay, now that, that definitely grounded you to reality, that question hit you like a brick, it was so out of place, so unexpected, curious as ever, you finally turn around to greet the other soul aligning with yours.

Jenna. Fuck, y/n you’re so stupid, should’ve turned around earlier, just stay calm.

“Cats got your tongue? Or were you lying about not being scared?”

Both.

She’s wearing an emerald green suit that hugged her curves and angles, leaving the top few buttons undone, with an undone bow tie around her neck.

“No,” letting it out accompanied by a breath out, “I’m just surprised that you would come up to me.”

“There’s a pretty lady at my party, I want to talk to her, I go talk to her.”

“There are other pretty ladies here, and you can’t see half my face, I can’t say the same for you though, the host of a masquerade doesn’t wear a mask? That’s a Pandora’s box.”

Her eyebrows raise, a slight smirk forms before her mouth forms an O, clearly showcasing her tongue poking the side of her cheek.

“A mask means I have secrets, and I, have no secrets, an open book.”

“That’s ironic” you mumble.

“What’s that?”

“You say you have no secrets, but it’s a mission and a half to get an exclusive with you.”

“Journalist?”

“Rising star journalist.” Her eyes squint at your attempt to boost your ego.

“I could give you an exclusive upstairs.” You may be oblivious but you’re not naïve, you play along though, you were exclusive hungry, but you definitely weren’t going to open your legs for her.

“Lead the way.” She offers her hand, and you accept, now with each other’s arms linked, she leads you to an elevator, only accessible by her and her most trusted companions.

“Holy shit that’s Steph and Ayesha Curry!”

“Oh, hahaha yes, they’re close friends of mine, now do you want the Curry’s or the exclusive?”

“Both?”

“Don’t be greedy.”

“You’re the one whisking me away, so you can have me all to yourself.”

“Maybe, but you were the one who asked for something.”

“Touché.

Though there were two of you, the negative space in the elevator was filled with tension, making sure not to make eye contact with the mafia leader.

“You never answered the question, do you think Jenna is hot?”

You lean in, making sure to work her up in all the right places, even placing your hand on her waist.

“Hmm, nope. Desperate? Maybe. But hot? That’s a different story.”

“You’re playing hard to get.”

“Awe, poor baby, it’s tough not getting everything you want.” You flaunt a comedic pout at her but all she does is rolls her eyes.

As the elevators open, your mouth drops in sync with the slides, her penthouse was breath taking, though it was night time, the city lights lit up the room giving it a dark, twilight feel.

“Wow.”

“It’s okay.” She shakes it off.

“Way to be humble.”

“I am rich, sexy, kind, loving and humble.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, your subconscious taking a hold of you as it drags your physical body in.

Jenna starts pouring two glasses of Dom Pérignon for you two to enjoy. Making you laugh because no one had access to this downstairs, yes, downstairs had top shelf drinks, but not Dom, they didn’t have Dom.

A simultaneous “cheers” escapes your mouths as your glasses clink in unison.

“Before I start rambling on about me, tell me about yourself, I want to know you, the true you.”

“That seems fair, well since you already know my name, let’s skip that.” Jenna winks at you. “I never knew what a home was growing up, I was in foster care my entire childhood and teenage years, in many houses, but never homes only leaving the system because I turned 18, I never knew who my birth parents were, nor do I care, I’ve made it through life without them, made something out of myself, made my own name, and that’s when I learnt I could build a home for myself. And I did, I moved here, landed an amazing job at Bayseyes, and the CEO of the company? She’s my lifeline, my saving grace, she is my home. Oh, and uh, my favourite colour is red, evidently.” You smile, looking down at your dress. Making Jenna smile too as she analyses each body part of yours and skin that shows.

“You are one interesting book Ms. L/N.” Jenna darts her eyes to yours, soul to soul, down at your lips and back to your eyes, you know what she wants, she wants you. But doubts ran your mind asking if you want her.

You gasp and take a step back.

“Do you hate me?”

“What?”

“You have a chance with America’s most lusted woman, and you’re turning me down.”

“Okay first of all, that ego of yours, too big, second of all, who says I want this.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Watch it.”

“Watch yourself, like you said everyone fears me, don’t forget how powerful I am.” Her tone sounds awry, evidently you pissed her off, but maybe she deserved it.

No words could leave your mouth after that, maybe then you truly knew her mind, her true mind, and that made answering no to her earlier question even easier, no, you didn’t find her hot, you found her revolting. You mouth a wowww, your eyes widening and your lips purse in, and you swear for a slight second you see Jenna vulnerable; you see her weak.  

“I should go, thanks for the drinks though.”

As you turn to leave the elevator doors open, a woman dressed, definitely not for the ball struts in, her scent reeking of desperation.

“Jenna, sugar bear, where have you been. I miss you! What, who’s this slut?”

As if you thought your eyes couldn’t widen anymore, you were wrong. As if Jenna couldn’t get more pissed, you were wrong, the fury in her pupils, your rejection already knocked her off course, she didn’t need a groupie barging in without announcement.

“This slut is about to leave.”

“Good.” Both exclaim.

But before you could turn and leave the doors open again, this time, a very aesthetically pretty lady, 5’5, brunette hair, adorned with layers and tan skin rushes in.

“JENNA, oh my, I’m so sorry, I tried to stop her.”

“No, it’s fine, Viv, she can stay, she, however, was just leaving, please show her the way out.”

She nods and you follow, but before turning your head, you see Jenna land a kiss on the other girl’s cheek, whispering in her ear, you guess it was something along the lines of meeting her in the bedroom, since the pattering legs ran to the bedroom. You don’t care though, it made you sick, that’s all you know.

Before the doors close, Jenna tries one more time, determined not to give up, rejection was something she never knew.

“Leave me with a kiss?”

You let out a slight laugh, almost mocking her, she was everything you were against, how could you open your soul to someone like her.

“No.”

“No?”

“Not when you’re everything I’m against.”

“How so?”

“Well, there’s a glock attached to your lumbar underneath your blazer.”

“Protection.”

You smile.

“Goodbye, Ms. Ortega.”

~~

Viv was there to witness every interaction she could have seen, and wow, she was shocked, she had never seen someone with such fire blow off Jenna like that, she liked you.

“I’m Viv, by the way.” She smiles, offering to shake your hand, you accept.

“Vivian?”

“Vivica!”

“Oh, how pretty, I’m-.”

“Y/N, uh yes, sorry ahah, I know, you’re the talk of the towers.”

“WHAT?”

“Just the staff and guards and the subjects, so uh, maybe the whole Ortega family.”

“Fuck.”

“No, no, we all like you, we find you interesting, we’ve never seen Jenna fiend for someone like that, it was refreshing, but you know, she’s not always like that, the way you saw her, in her penthouse.”

“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe. So, are you like her right-hand man? Woman?”

“Yeah, something like that, I handle mainly the business side, but I could whoop ass if I wanted to, her other right-hand man, the physical, more mafia side is Bruce, he was the guard that threw the guy out, the one who was harassing you.”

“OH! He was sweet, he smiled at me.”

“Lucky you, that means he likes you.”

As you step out the elevators into the main lobby, you can’t help but feel a sense of the unknown, there was lingering fire in you that you couldn’t pinpoint the origin, was it desire? Hatred? Lust? Regret? Hell, maybe even hunger.

“Thank you, Viv.”

“It’s no problem, Y/N, it was very nice to meet you, I hope our paths cross again!”

You hug her and she reciprocates it, just before hopping into your uber to take you home.

~~

As you got home, you had a sense of urgency to write, that electricity was back, you didn’t care about changing or freshening up, the words were flowing out of you and you needed to let it out, you are so sure this is your best work, you want this article published tonight so you type away. You have no control over your fingers, they were doing all the work, you just had to trust them.

… whether it be by her heart, her touch, or her gun, anyone that knows the elusive Ms. Ortega is destined to fall.

~~

Thank you for your support <3 I hope you enjoyed! 🦦

[yorutsuki]

「 ✦ Befriending the Worse Pt. 3 ✦ 」

↳ Kourina, a fairly new transfer student who attended UA. Fairly quickly, the two of you had started a friendship. It started off quite nicely, the two of you shared many things in common and enjoyed each other's comapany. Until a few weeks pass—the friendship takes a turn and became-well, more like a one sided friendship..

Tags:

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How wrong you were,

Kourina did in fact not change.

She humiliated you, in front of everybody.

It was supposed to be a fun little trip with your class to the mall though Kourina just had to tag along with you.

It was going so well. The class had split up into small random groups, deciding a meeting spot and time beforehand; the fountain. Unfortunately you were standing too close when it happend.

....

"I'm so relieved I was able to get a hold of the new manga!" Uraraka exclaimed, smiling brightly with joy as she fan-girled over her new buys. "Say, what did you buy L/N?" Denki chimed in, curiosity intriguing the boy.

"I was able to snag the last limited edition resin keyboard~" You hummed proudly as Denki gasped, his jaw dropping, "seriously!? The one that has custom keyboard sounds and extra silk padding!?" You nodded, "and extra light patterns and as well beautiful design." You smirked, Denki's jaw dropping even more.

"You guys talking about the new limited resin keyboard?" Kirishima chimed in along with Sero. Both and you and Denki nodded. "Yeah! And L/N managed to grab one!" He exclaimed, making both heir faces drop. "Sheesh, isn't it like $450?" Kirishima commented, his face plastered with awe and concern for you wallet. "Dude, $450 for a keyboard with that, with SILK, might I add, that's a huge steal!" Sero commented, stepping in your defense as you nodded. "Plus, i've saved up for months for this thing, plus like Sero said, worth it~! And it comes in a fancy packaging~" You grinned, showing a peep of the fancy black boxing with embroidered gold designs, making the three plus some on the side awe and glow.

"Sorry we're a bit behind!"

Some of your classmates turned towards the voice, spotting Tsuyu, Mina, Hagakure and Kourina, all of them carrying a few bags, some more than others. Mina (we don't judge tho)

"It's not a problem, most just arrived here." Midoriya commented, as Mina sighed in relief.

Kourina looked over to find you and easily did though you were busy talking with Denki, Kiri and Sero.

She frowned at the scene.

Straying from her group she made her way over to you. "Hey N/n~!" She greeted with enthusiasm.

Uraraka sweat dropped with a uncomfortable smile while Denki and Kiri looked over to the new voice, the electricity quirk user frowned a bit as your guys' chat was interrupted.

"Oh hey Kourina! Welcome to the club!" You smiled softly. You normally wouldn't be this...expressive but you were too excited about your new buy.

"Ohhh~ Whats that?" She asked, pointing to your bag with her free hand. You grinned, "the new limited resin keyboard!"

Kourina's face dropped as she looked at you and the bag. "How did you manage to get a hold of it!?" She asked, making her ways towards you and in the process ended up pushing some people.

Denki, Kiri and Sero all sorta cringed at her behavior, Uraraka glancing worryingly towards the three who returned the look.

"Lots of saving up and google-searching." You answered, grimacing at those times you stayed up until 2 in the morning researching on where and how to buy the thing. (the majority of the time just drooling over the ads of the keyboard)

As the five of you talked, Denki excused himself for a few, needing to use the restroom. "So Kourina, did you get anything?" You asked, seeing a few bags in her hands. She huffed, "yeah, a few clothes and other stuff, nothing too special like your keyboard." She sighed with a small smile.

"Oh! L/N!" You looked over, seeing Midoriya coming over to you. You waved over to him. "Here, you said you were starting a collection so Bakugo, Todoroki and I had got you something to add to it." He spoke shyly, a small hue of pink spreading across his cheeks as he opened his hand to reveal a small keychain.

Your eyes shimmered in awe at the small trinket, picking it up delicately from him hands. "It..it might not be much but.." "It's perfect." You shook your head, a smile gracing your face as you looked at the keychain with a fuzzy feeling. "Thank you."

Midoriya stuttered out a small 'your welcome'.

You swore you could've heard a small growl next to you but you brushed it off.

The moment was cut short as you saw Denki coming back.

"Sorry, hope you guys didn't miss me too much." He grinned, approaching the group.

Kourina shook her head with a small smile, "not at all." She smirked going to stand next to him.

You were a bit confused but let it go nonetheless, that was until you heard a noise and then a harsh bump into you.

Time seemed to slow down as the others could only watch the scene unfold, not having any time to react as the next the next thing you knew, you were cold. You could hear gasps surrounding you as well as mutters.

You looked around to see you were half sat in the fountain and drenched in it's waters, your legs dangling at the edged.

Denki stuttered numerous of apologies in panic, looking like he was about to lose his head.

You quickly whipped your head to the side, your eyes widening in horror to see your bag was underneath the liquid surface. Your gaze quickly skimmed to your surroundings, seeing some bystanders looking at the scene—looking at you, laughing.

Your breath pickened up, Kiri and Midoriya quickly rushed to your aid, not minding if they got their shoes drenched as they pulled you up.

Kourina looked at you with sympathy, but you could tell something was up.

"Shit L/N, i'm so sorry! I d-didn't know what happened, fuck, i'm sorry!" Denki apologized. You shook your head. "It was an accident, it wasn't your fault." You mumbled out, small tears starting to blur your vision.

You found the floor much more interesting, not daring to look up at any of your classmates, afraid of the looks you'd see.

Midoriya's brows furrowed when he saw your soaked bag, his eyes widening when he realized what was inside. He was about to say something but you gave out a shaky sigh. "I..I just want to go back. I'll meet you guys at the dorm." Your voice cracked as you hiccuped, speed walking away from the group.

You felt every emotion crash down onto you. You felt pathetic and embarrassed, not only did you fall into a fountain in public, but you also fell in front of your classmates—your friends, and to add on, you took down your prized possession with you, the thing you've been saving months for, the thing you had waited for ever since it's release.

.....

Here you were, laying on your dorm floor, your eyes puffy and red. On your desk was the damaged keyboard.

As soon as you made it back, you had checked up on the precious thing to make it it hadn't taken any damage, though unfortunately, your heart dropped as you found that some water had managed to leak through the cracks of the box and plastic and to the keyboard; ultimately ruining it's circuits.

You groaned, hearing a small ding from your phone. Reluctantly, you used the little energy you had and reached towards it, successfully grabbing it. You hissed as the bright illuminating screen blinded you. You quickly turned down the brightness before checking notifications.

There were many texts from a few of your classmates, you'd guess to check up on you, then there was one from Kourina.

---------------------------

K: Hey, are you okay? You fell pretty rough into the fountain.

---------------------------

You furrowed your brows, quickly writing a response but hesitated on the send..

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K: Hey, are you okay? You fell pretty rough into the fountain.

You: i'm alright I think

My keyboard is damaged beyond repair though :/

K: Damn, sorry that had happened, I don't know what Kaminari tripped on- it was a pretty bad sight.

---------------------------

Your eyes squinted, rereading the message. It felt..off?

---------------------------

You: First name basis already? And what do you mean tripped?

K: Something like that yeah and he tripped, idk how to say it lol

----------------------------

You contemplated whether you should double check or not. Your friendship was on thin ice already, this question could be the fall of it.

You hesitantly types a prompt, your finger hovering the button.

----------------------------

You: I don't want to sound...judgmental but weren't you next to Denki earlier, before the accident?

K: What are you implying? :/

You: Well, I just wanted to make sure

K: Are you serious right now? You really think I pushed him?

Tripped^

You: I didn't say anything about pushing? And why are you getting defensive all the sudden?

K: Because your accusing me of something I didn't do???

You: I didn't accuse you, just asked a simple question

K: ...You're joking..

You think just because of my placement in standing, you think i'd do something like that? That's really fucking low and shitty of you..

You: I wasn't accusing, only asking as it was ironic how just when you moved he tripped

K: What the hell? You know friends don't do this to each other? This is upsetting and just uncalled for.

You: Friends don't try to embarrass each other for attention and laughs from others

You told a lot of people about things that I wish weren't shared??

K: You can't seriously take a joke? They weren't even that bad, god your such a fucking cry baby, I can't understand how you got in class 1-A, not even, I can't understand how you got into UA in the first place.

You: Okay what the fuck? Have you seen yourself? When you don't get enough attention you literally start whining like a dog, you're so attention-deprived that you put others down just to make up for the fact you can't get attention at home. If I recalled, I made a simple joke about your grades being lower than some girls music career and you cried a water fountain like boohoo, womp to the fucking womp.

And don't even, the reason you didn't get into the hero course was because your hole is bigger than your brain. You don't take the class, hell, even with your recent studies you don't take any of it seriously. You literally made me do your homework for you?? The only reason your even in UA is because of your father's business that he bribed the school with.

Read ✔️ 8:15 PM

(I hope those text were good..)

----------------------------

Your breathes were rigid, the temperature feeling much hotter. You groaned, not wanting to deal with this anymore.

You threw your phone to the other room in hopes it would release some type of anger; it didn't.

You looked at your small alarm clock, it was already dinner. You didn't feel hungry in the slightest though.

Tired of society, you begrudgingly crawled into your bed and let the world of unconsciousness consume you.

.

.

.

[ Previous Part ]

A/N: sheesh that was long. I really hope those texts weren't too awkward or cringe.

[rustcleaver]

It Falters On The Horizon (Chapter 1)

Fnaf Eclipse x gn reader, 6k words

(it/they/he pronouns are used for Eclipse)

If any of you have an ao3 invite I could use, I would be deeply grateful <3

Waking up for work on a Tuesday morning isn’t all that bad if you like your job. It doesn’t even need to be particularly glamorous; anything that doesn’t make you want to crumple to the floor like a tinfoil ball by the end of your shift is a win. And anything beats retail. So you’re pretty satisfied with your decent pay (and flexible hours) at the Fazbear Entertainment™ Mega Pizzaplex©. You even get to google conspiracy theories on company time, it’s great.

Your alarm rings, and you feel at least half the joints in your spine crack as you sit up to turn it off. It takes a minute of flailing like an indignant carp before you’re able to roll out of bed and onto your feet. You grab your Fazwatch© (patent pending) from its little charging station and its screen buzzes to life. A few practiced button-taps show you the day’s schedule. All the tours are at the regular times, showing the same schedule as it did last night. Maybe you don’t need to check it as often as you do, but management has made last-minute changes before, and it’s pretty fair to assume it will happen again. For some reason or another, the tour times will sometimes get moved around or cancelled on the day-of. After a month on the job, you’re comfortable enough in your routine to give a tour on 5-minute’s notice. (You had to last Friday. That was a new low, even for Faz-management.) But everything looks fine today, so you shouldn’t have to whip out The Ol’ Fazbear Entertainment Approved Apology Spiel for any poor customers who might miss the sudden change in their tour times. 

You once bet $50 that management will try to move a tour to some time in the past. The staff bot that cleans at your end of Rockstar Row is often the recipient of your quips, and it only stopped sweeping for a second to acknowledge your comment. You still aren’t sure if it knows what money is, and you probably don’t have 50 bucks to spare, anyway. You guys can probably just call it even. Besides, you think it found the joke funny (it made a single ‘ha’ sound), so that’s probably all that matters.

You used to be surprised by the number of people you can find in the pizzaplex at the asscrack of dawn, but the magic of the place (and the meticulously crafted ads on kids’ youtube) always attracts a small crowd. Weekdays are pretty quiet in the mornings, but there’s always someone visiting the pizzaplex. It’s a lavish place that probably pays more money for the monthly electricity than you will ever see in your life, but you’re sure the company can afford it easily with the number of guests they get. With how stupidly overpriced some of the stuff is here, you’re sure those guys have plenty of funds to spare. You really don’t get why management will always cut corners and be so cheap, then turn around and drop hundreds of thousands on some shiny new robot. Fickle, those guys.

Anyways, back to your own work:

Thankfully, it’s never too busy back at Rockstar Row during the day when the animatronics are performing or going to private birthday parties. You can hear their music if you listen for it, but all the festivities are distant enough that they don’t disturb you. The voices, cheers, and catchy tunes blend together in a gentle hum-drone of white noise. You keep saying that you’re gonna watch a performance one of these days, but you want to go at a time when you won’t get lost in a sea of pre-teens and their exhausted parents, so you keep putting it off. Usually, none of said pre-teens or parents are hanging around Rockstar Row when you prepare for the day, so you can have your peace of mind as you clock in. You can even whistle a bit of copyrighted music while dusting off the ol’ display cases without getting a single disapproving email from management. Throughout the day, you give a couple of tours down the Row to tell the history and legends of the old Fazbear pizzerias, throwing in some popular conspiracy theories and horror stories for spice. There’s plenty of time in between the tours of this makeshift museum when you usually just sit around in case anybody needs directions or something. All-in-all, it’s a pretty nice job. And you’re pretty darn good at it, too. Nobody knows how to redirect a customer to somebody who actually knows how to help with whatever wild shit happened to their kid quite like you do.

Sometimes, Rockstar Row gets kinda crowded at the end of the day when the animatronics are doing meet-n-greets in their rooms. There aren’t any museum tours at this time (thank Faz), so you get to sit down at your little desk area and watch how these vibrant characters and their equally dazzling personalities capture the attention of the crowds. They’re real pros at what they do; you can’t help but smile at their acts, even from a distance. 

There have been a few times when there wasn’t anyone waiting in line to chat with one of the animatronics, so Freddy or Roxy will sometimes come over to say hi when you wave to them. You’ve been hoping to introduce yourself to Monty and Chica, but their rooms aren’t really visible from your corner of Rockstar Row (and you don’t want to intrude when anyone’s busy), so you’re limited to the other two at the moment. Freddy is very popular and very busy, he is the titular character after all, so you’ve probably spoken to Roxy the most. She once expressed gratitude that she doesn’t have to maintain her usual act and energy when she talks with you. It was a pretty serious and vulnerable comment, so you wanted to respond in a positive and encouraging manner. The somewhat goofy thumbs-up that you gave her (clearly not the expected response) made her laugh so hard that Freddy came over, concerned that her voicebox was glitching out. The memory makes you smile as you clock in for the day.

---

On this morning, this perfectly average Tuesday morning, you do a double-take at one of the display cases. Empty. It definitely isn’t supposed to be, so you walk over to take a look at it. You stop a couple of inches away from the glass and squint at it like this is some optical illusion. Yep, definitely empty, no amount of rubber-necking or suspicious glances appear to be changing that. Also, it looks like the top panel has been unceremoniously smashed in. In fact, it took you a perfectly normal amount of time to notice that the whole upper half of the glass box is shattered. Yes. And, like the awe-inspiring detective you are, you start looking around on the floor. You know, just in case the old Chica arm had hopped out of its display case and was lying around somewhere. Okay, so maybe it’s a little hard to wake up on a Tuesday no matter what your job is. 

You’re almost surprised that management didn’t tell you about the missing exhibits before your shift, but then you remember how low they keep setting the bar. They probably didn’t know, or didn’t care. You move to check the rest of the displays yourself and see that an original Fredbear top hat has also disappeared. This horrible loss is enough to properly wake you up. That was your favorite exhibit. It was a nice little hat that will be sorely missed. You take a minute to grieve the tragic loss before you see your good pal (the staff bot who you might owe $50 to someday) vacuuming around the golden Roxy statue. You jog over to it and give a little wave.

“Hey! How’s it going?” You say. It turns off the vacuum and looks over at you. It blinks twice and gives you a thumbs-up. 

“Happy to hear it! Doesn’t look like you got covered in soda like last week, so that’s good. Hey, if that ever happens again, you can come to me if you need a hand with cleaning it off. I’m getting pretty good with those chem wipes. Also, two of the exhibits are missing: the Chica arm and the old top hat. Do you know anything about that?” You ask, remembering your original mission mid-sentence and pointing at the crime scene. In response, the staff bot looks at the ground for a minute, then tilts its head quizzically. It turns to look down the hallway and makes a little ping sound at a nearby security bot. The security bot comes over and the two of them look at each other silently for a minute. Robot-to-robot conversation, robot-to-robot communication. The security bot looks briefly at the floor like the staff bot did, then the two resume their telepathic chat. You begin to wonder if you should ask again later when they both turn to look at you. The security bot beeps a few times. 

“...Did you see anything suspicious around the displays recently?” You offer, guessing at what the security bot is trying to communicate. It shakes its head in response. 

“Can you check the security camera footage from last night?” It nodds this time. 

“Great! So, do you see anything..?” You wait a moment. Maybe the security bot didn’t hear you? It keeps looking at you but doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. Your fazwatch buzzes on your wrist, and you read the screen, confused.

REQUESTING SECURITY CLEARANCE ...

...

APPROVED

UPDATED SECURITY CLEARANCE FOR: DAYCARE ENTRANCE

Ok. Well, that’s something. But the daycare has been closed for long before you even got hired, and you doubt that whoever stole the two displays would have any reason to put them there. (Our great detective has deemed this a case of larceny, deducing that there iss a thief afoot.)

“The daycare? You want me to go to the old daycare..?” You ask. The security bot nods. 

“Shouldn’t I go to the security office for this sort of thing?” It doesn’t respond. Your fazwatch opens the pizzaplex map and begins charting a course for the daycare. There’s your answer, you suppose. The security bot begins rolling back to its post and you shout a quick thank-you. Turning back to your dear friend and colleague, staff bot, you shrug.

“Well, the security bots probably know a lot better than I do. I’ve got about an hour, so I’m gonna go check it out. Wish me luck!” You give it a dramatic little salute. It blinks in acknowledgment and goes right back to vacuuming.

---

It always bothered you that “Floor 1” isn’t always the first floor of a building. Sometimes, it’s literally the second floor. You are reminded of this tragedy as you take the elevator down to the “Ground Level” and step out onto the balcony. (Note that even the “Ground Level” has two levels. Fazbear Entertainment really dropped the ball on this one.) You shuffle out of the elevator, leaving room for the family passing by while checking your faz-map. It says that you just have to go left. And there it is, a large pair of doors labeled “Superstar Daycare Pick-Up”. You’ve never had to go inside, but it still shocks you that you never noticed the entrance before. The lights above the door are off and all the paint is faded, so it’s admittedly hard to spot. You hesitate for a second, just standing there, staring at the door handle. You get the sense that you aren’t supposed to be here, like you’re a child about to get caught doing something that you were told not to. Reminding yourself that you were literally told to come here, you try to shake the feeling. As weird as this whole thing is, you’re pretty curious to see whatever the security bot has sent you to find. Besides, if this yields nothing, you can just stop by the security office and ask somebody else for help. You finally turn the handle and step through the door.

Here you find a large, poorly lit, and lifeless area. There are only a few posters on the walls, lit by bands of neon light. Some are of the band, but you notice several that depict a sun figure and a moon figure. These advertise some “Sundrop” and “Moondrop” candies. You find it weird for the Fazbear advertisement team (faz-vertisement, if you will) to come up with new characters just to promote some candy that you’ve never even heard of. Weird when they will typically do whatever they can to “show the audience our beloved cast of Fazbear Ent. characters that you know and love” (reuse the same old clipart of the animatronics for most ads because, collectively, they do not give a single damn). But here are two characters you have never seen before. Something entirely new. A sun and a moon. 

You walk over to the posters and note the layer of dust clinging to them. The sun and moon look very similar in design and are clearly each other’s counterparts. You’re the museum guide, the person who probably knows the most about the pizzaplex’s history, and yet you’ve never heard anything about these two characters. Maybe these were just a part of the daycare’s shtick since the entrance also has a sun and moon on it? You decide to grab a couple of these posters as potential stand-ins for the missing exhibits. Even if you don’t need the interim replacements, you’ll definitely want to look into these characters later. 

You pass a little fountain surrounded by the world’s jankiest fake palm trees on the way to the end of the hall. It’s impossible not to marvel at the dichotomy of how cheap or extravagant Fazbear Entertainment can be. There are some lights around the fountain’s edge, but the water isn’t running, just lying quietly at the basin. Your footsteps echo over the checkered PVC floor tiles and the poor lighting doesn’t let you see the ceiling. It looks like it might go on infinitely. This room feels too big. You grip your phone a little tighter. 

You eventually come to a big, metal shutter door with a little panel to the right. Using your sleeve, you wipe the dust off the screen. After a few taps, it begins to boot up and update. You are presented with a few options, and “Open Daycare Entrance [A]” immediately catches your eye. You press the button and it makes a little ping sound.

 AUTHENTICATING CLEARANCE, PLEASE WAIT… 

Your watch buzzes, and you flinch at it, startled. It shows a loading wheel for just a second before the panel beeps again. 

STAND CLEAR OF SHUTTERS UNTIL FULLY OPEN 

And the metal doors begin to rise. Inside, you spot a golden statue of the sun and moon figures. So they have 3D designs, too. That’s a little too much effort for a couple of candies. This thing looks just as glamorous as the statues of the band members out in Rockstar Row. Impressed, you take a photo and begin walking around this little entrance area filled with chairs. There is a thick net that hangs in front of you with a railing that leaves room for a rainbow slide. The sign above it says “Slide Into Fun!” and points at the opening. Hm. No thanks. 

You lean against the railing and look into the massive space beyond the net. There are a bunch of play structures and a massive river of a ball pit that you can barely make out in the dark. You see a small balcony to your right, on the only wall where there is no netting. It is the only place inside that is properly lit, gleaming in the spotlight, but it doesn’t look like there’s any way to get up to it. Over on the left, you think you see a desk. It’s right next to some large wooden doors, and you’re glad to see a normal entrance so you won’t have to use the slide. It could be fun, don’t get me wrong, but thoughts of dashcon ricochet around your brain as you envision the ball pit at the end. You choose to think about something else. Like your mission! Yes. You’re here to… well, you’re not really sure. Find whatever the security bot wants you to find, I guess. It’s darker in this area, feeling even more abandoned than the fountain area before. You can’t really see, but you doubt that the (potential) thief would choose to stick around in the building, so you don’t think that’s what you’re looking for here. There’s no one else in the entrance area, so you’ll have to go inside the daycare to see if there’s anyone you can talk to. Maybe there’s a security bot who guards the place, and maybe it knows what happened. So, to get inside, you’ll have to make your way down some stairs and circle around the walled-in (netted-in?) daycare area to get to those doors.

Said doors feel a lot taller when you’re right in front of them. It’s a little intimidating, to be honest. From here, you can see the corners of the mechanisms that open the door, and you’re glad that the doorknobs about 20 feet up are just ornamental. This does, unfortunately, leave you with no idea of how to actually open the doors. The thought of flailing about to grab those doorknobs gives you a laugh, at least. For lack of a better idea, you knock on the door. 

“Anybody here? Knock knock.” You say to yourself, trying to come up with a plan to get in. You most certainly don’t expect a reply.

“Who’s there?” Rings a response in a muffled, robotic voice. This makes you jump like a cat. There really is something in there, and it’s definitely not a security bot. But that doesn’t sound like the voice of anybody in the band; it has a completely different intonation and almost rumbles at the end of its words. Each of the glamrocks has a distinctive voice, and this doesn’t match any of them. And, above all else, it just set you up for a knock-knock joke. Now this is serious. It’s one thing to meet a mystery robot in an abandoned area of a technologically-unmatched pizzaplex, but it’s something else to get the perfect set-up for a real bad pun. You’re gonna have to think hard about this one, pull out all the stops. You could use the ol’ classic “Boo-who” but that’s too basic, too predictable. There’s one about yodeling, but you don’t remember how the second part goes, so you’ll have to improvise a bit.

You settle with a “Wa.” 

A few clicks resound behind those doors. You take a small step away from whatever they came from.  

Your mysterious interlocutor responds after a moment, sounding genuinely curious: 

“Wa who?” 

“Mario, is that you?” You offer, hoping that your improvised punch-line makes sense. After a second, a hearty chuckle echoes from inside the daycare. There’s a rumble as the doors before you start to swing open (which makes you jump again, but this time it feels more like the frantic wiggle of a disgruntled worm than the hop of a cat). The doors open slowly, making you wait a moment before gingerly taking a step inside and looking around. 

The darkness is almost complete in here, and the air feels heavy. There is a particularly dark area around the play structure right in front of you, casting even more shadows around itself. Within that darkness, you see a wavering, orange glow. Two pinpricks of light loom above you, shining down from this structure. You realize that this must be your new “friend.”

“I’ve never heard that one before,” It muses, “but I don’t think it’s legally advisable for any Fazbear Entertainment staff to mention Mario by name. Copyright infringement is against the rules.”

You realize that the glowing orange points are a pair of eyes. Eyes that are firmly locked on you during the slow tilt of its head. There are some other glowing areas around them, but they’re dim enough that you can’t make out their shapes.

“Ah, right. Definitely wouldn’t want to cause a lawsuit.” Your voice doesn’t even echo in this cavernous space. You are suddenly made very aware that you’re completely alone with this thing. In the dark. Pretty far away from anyone. Spooky, but you’re being so brave about it. 

The eyes before you do a whirling clockwise spin while the entire patch of orange glow moves rhythmically downwards. You hear something land gently on the floor with the rattle of a bell, crouching to absorb the impact. Those eyes are still on you, and you don’t think they’ve blinked at all. You are aware of how difficult it would be to evacuate this area. Deeply aware.

“Can’t have any guests overhearing the unlicensed use of another company’s character, now can we? Well, we’re alone in here, so I suppose I could let it slide…” The voice gives a dramatic hum as the stranger stands up, eyes rising to a height that towers over you.

“And I did like the joke... Alright, we can overlook this one. But you should be more careful, you know. I’m sure it would be a terrible hassle if Nintendo tried to sue the company again.” There’s a creak of metal and plastic as the figure seems to lean to the left, chuckling to itself. A few bells ring from the light source as its shoulders bounce with the laugh. Then, you hear a gasp.

“Oh- Now where are my manners? This is no way to welcome our new guest!” It speaks with a completely different energy, standing upright again. 

“Do forgive me, and allow me to introduce myself properly!” There’s a tap-tap-tap of steps as those luminous eyes get closer. You shuffle backward and tense at the sudden approach, arms raised defensively. This thing sounds kind enough, but hearing a massive metallic creature approach you from the dark and seeing nothing but its glowing eyes is pretty fucking scary.

Seeing your reaction, it comes to a stop. Now that it’s closer, you can see its eyes flash with a concerned look that darts around your face before landing nervously on the ground. It almost looks like it’s deflating, the way the lights seem to shrink in on themselves. You hear quiet, rapid taps from where you imagined its hands might be held, fidgeting.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry! Did I frighten you? Goodness- that’s no good, no good at all-” It keeps stumbling over its terse apologies, slowly backing away. Its body language makes it seem so much smaller than you, even though this colossal silhouette is obviously anything but. Those eyes are squinted in what might be the start of panic, or dejection. Oh great. We gave the poor robot anxiety.

“No, no, it’s fine- I just got a little, uh... Surprised because I can’t really see what’s happening and I don’t know what-” You’re cut off by the sound of a whack sound coming from the animatronic’s face. You realize it just facepalmed. 

“Of course! Oh, how silly of me, how ridiculous! I can’t very well introduce myself if you can’t even see me, now can I? Here- Give me just a moment-” It turns and disappears into the daycare, its muttering growing distant. You notice that, despite the bells you heard before, it was nearly silent as it left. After a moment of wondering if you should be worried, a click reverberates from above as the lights buzz to life. This causes you to squint for a minute, feeling just as blind as when you were in the dark. You blink until your eyes adjust and look into the now-illuminated daycare. The entire space looks much more inviting in the light; everything popping with color and life. Now, you can finally get a good look at the animatronic who’s approaching, more sheepishly this time. 

It’s easy to tell that they're at least 8 feet tall, even though they bow their head to appear less intimidating. It folds its hands together in the same way that an old lady might when she’s saying something sweet, except this colossal robot has four arms to work with. Double the gesture, double the sentiment, I guess. You think those fingertips might be pointed, but you’re choosing not to look too close. Its face is round with a crescent shape on the inside and two rows of triangles on the outside. You get the impression of one of those sun/moon theater masks: one that might be happy on one side, then sad on the other. There’s a large nightcap sitting at an angle on its head; the end of it rests on his shoulder and sways slightly with each step. All of the robot’s clothing look soft and flowy, giving it a very gentle and elegant appearance. Whatever plastic its face is made of, it’s clearly malleable, allowing the animatronic to make minute shifts in its expression for a precise demonstration of emotions. You have to admit, whoever designed the animatronics here is some kind of genius.

“There. Let me try one more time.” It sighs with an apologetic smile.

The half-sun, half-moon character stops before you and gives a dignified bow, the motion smooth and practiced.

“My name is Eclipse, I am the caretaker of the Superstar Daycare. It’s very nice to meet you. Welcome, and sorry again for the poor first impression.” They address you. Their smile is so genuine that you can’t help but mirror it as you return the greeting, introducing yourself in turn. 

“Come in, come in! Make yourself at home! Here, allow me to get you a seat-” They respond, visibly straightening up now that they know that there’s no hard feelings. You know that they literally glow, but they still seem so radiant with their rejuvenated spirit. That smile of theirs definitely got wider, and they move with a skip in their steps. They pull up two of the few adult-sized chairs and set them by a small, plastic table. It stands by one of the chairs and gestures for you to sit, intending to push in your chair for you. It’s pointedly gentle with this, too, even speaking slightly quieter because you were closer. You have to admit, this Eclipse is quite a charming host, and a fascinating character. After you are seated, they sit in their own chair and rest their upper pair of arms on the table between you, tapping their fingers rhythmically. The anxiety from before is gone, but an excited energy still dances behind those eyes.

“We don’t get a lot of guests, so it truly is an honor! Is there anything I can help you with, my dear guest?” He asks, tilting his head a little. 

“Yes, actually,” You begin, “I’m the tour guide for the museum area along Rockstar Row, and two of the exhibits disappeared last night. The cases were broken, so it looks like they might have been stolen. I tried to ask one of the nearby security bots about it, and it sent me here to learn more.” You point at your faz-watch and Eclipse looks truly enraptured by your every word.

“I see! Terribly sorry to hear about the exhibits, but that does explain a thing or two. I just got a request to authorize someone’s security clearance to come in here. I didn’t know what it could possibly be for, but I guess that must have been you!” 

“Yeah! Though I still don’t get why they wanted me to come here. Especially when there’s a dedicated security office for this sort of thing.” You admit. Eclipse chuckles at that and rests its chin in one of its hands, its eyes narrowing with a cheeky flaire.

“If I had to guess, that would be because I’m the head of security, here at the Pizzaplex.” His grin seems to widen at your surprise. He titters briefly before continuing, each laugh lighter than the flutter of a moth’s wing.

“Yes, funny how the head of security isn’t in the security office, isn’t it? Well, there’s rarely anything that requires my input down there. Though, I wonder why they didn’t just show you the camera footage when you asked, even if you aren’t security personnel-” He trails off, closing his eyes for a moment. His brows furrow and his smile slips for just a moment.

“Ah. So that’s why… But surely it would have…” They go quiet for a little longer, eyes flickering about beneath their eyelids. They hum quizzically as they open their eyes and look back at you with an unreadable expression.

“It looks like there are no recordings from the Rockstar Row’s security cameras from last night… But I’m certain I was able to see through them at the time, and I didn’t receive any kind of notifications about them malfunctioning later… That’s…” It gives a defeated laugh.

“It looks like I’ll have to investigate a bit more thoroughly, then.” They conclude, shrugging with their second pair of arms. 

“Well then! I’ll be in contact if I find anything, but you should go get ready for today’s tours.” He waves a hand and you feel your faz-watch buzz in response. On the screen, you see a message from Eclipse that just says “Hello :)” from a messaging app that management occasionally contacts you with. On the time above the notification, you can see that there are only 10 minutes until the first tour starts. Oh shit. You need to get moving. Eclipse springs to his feet and motions you to the door with a flourish of all four arms. 

“Feel free to message me if you need anything else, we’re always happy to help. It’s truly been lovely meeting you, and good luck with today’s tours!” They conclude with a showman’s poise. You thank them as you hurry out the door, to the stairs. Before leaving the daycare, you turn to give the grand play area one last glance, hoping to wave to Eclipse on the way out. You aren’t able to spot them, just a metal cable unfurling from the ceiling, falling to a point behind one of the play structures. Then, the lights go out, leaving you in a little hollow of light around the golden sun and moon statue. It’s a bit sad that you couldn’t say another goodbye, but you decide you’ll make up for it when you aren’t possibly running late for work. You are very grateful for the reminder, but you’re certain you never told them when the first tour was starting.

- - -

You return to Rockstar Row with 7 minutes to spare. Thankfully, your favorite staff bot has been kind enough to clean up the broken glass around the missing exhibits while you were gone. You make a mental note to thank them later, then make a physical note to place by the exhibits: 

“This exhibit is temporarily absent for routine maintenance and repairs” You write with your best handwriting and hope that it sounds official enough that the guests won’t interrogate you about it. You are so caught up in thinking about excuses you can give people or where you might find a temporary replacement that you don’t notice the heavy footsteps that stop right behind you.

“Hey, heads up. Somebody’s gonna walk right into ya if you’re spacing out in the middle of the walkway.” A voice snaps you out of it. You turn to see a pair of nonchalant, red eyes looking down at you over a pair of star-shaped shades. The legendary Montgomery Gator himself stands in front of you, with one hand on his hip and his head tilted like he’s somewhere between casual and completely uninterested. 

“Right, yeah. Didn’t mean to get in your way, sorry.” You take a step back, out of the way, shaking your head once to clear your mind like an etch-a-sketch. 

“Don’t sweat it.” Monty adjusts his sunglasses. You expect the animatronic to keep walking, but he’s still looking at you, so you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Hey, you’re the museum guide, right? Not that you can call this handful of trinkets much of a museum... I heard you got hired a while back, but I never got the chance to see for myself. So, I’m Monty.” It seems he’s landed on casual over disinterested as he holds out his hand for a handshake. You return it, both of you giving a firm couple of shakes and feeling some mutual respect for it. It isn’t every day that someone returns a nice, solid handshake with the same amount of gusto. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you! I was trying to find the time to properly introduce myself, but this works, too. And yeah, we lost two exhibits last night, so the museum’s looking even more sparse than usual. Not really sure how I’m going to fill the tour time I usually spend on those, but I’ve only got 5 minutes to figure it out.” You say, shaking your head and shrugging in exaggerated defeat.

“Yeah, I noticed the empty cases. That’s tough. Someone should probably remove the broken glass, though; some kid’s gonna get hurt on that. So, did somebody steal ‘em?” He asks. He’s nonchalant about it, but he seems genuinely interested. Maybe there’s a secret passion for gossip and drama under that rough exterior... Or maybe he’s just concerned for everyone’s safety. Either way, his eyes are still locked on you.

“That’s what it seems like, but I’m not sure. I asked around and nobody seems to know what happened- the staff bots were even saying that they can’t access the security footage from last night… Well, I’m sure this incident has already been reported or logged in whatever system, so it’s probably out of my hands. Still, I’m gonna ask around for any signs of a break-in. Oh, speaking of, did you see anything weird last night?” You realize just how little you know about the situation as you recount everything, it’s all so odd. Monty immediately shrugs and shakes his head at your question, which is only a little disappointing. 

“Nope, I did a little patrolling around the atrium last night, but I spent most of my free time playin’ the bass.” He says, making air guitar motions for emphasis. Suddenly, he flashes a playful smile, then gives you a suspicious side-eye.

“Hey, you think I’m a suspect or something? This is startin’ to feel like an interrogation- I do have an alibi if you’re not convinced by my testimony, detective.” He makes sure to bitterly enunciate every syllable of the word. If he wasn’t smiling, you might think he was being serious, but you play along.

“Hmm, I really can’t rule it out… Anyone could be the perp- even me! No one suspects the detective, after all!” You dramatically wiggle your fingers at him, to which he feigns a shocked gasp. It’s incredible how these guys can make such realistic breath sounds with their voiceboxes. 

“We should’a known it was you, you connivin’ little punk!” He really hams up the act, pointing at you and everything. You laugh a couple times, internally commending his dedication to the bit. Even though you just met, he’s joking around with you like you’re old friends. It’s nice to be treated like you’re a cool dude without having to prove anything, and Monty immediately gives you that respect. You appreciate it.

“Seriously though: I don’t think you could wear the tophat with that mohawk of yours, and god knows what you would even need an old Chica arm for. So, I think you’re off the hook for now.” You gaze off towards your desk and the exhibits nearby it. There appears to be a small crowd gathering over there. You’re wondering what that’s all about when it strikes you.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna be late for the tour.” You say, deadpan. After a beat, you start running over to your desk, dodging a kid. You don’t turn around, but you briefly look over your shoulder to say goodbye.

“See ya later, alligator!” Which works doubly well because he really is an alligator. You catch an amused Monty in the corner of your eye, and it seems like he gets the joke when he barks a single laugh.

“In a while, crocodile!” He shouts after you.

[txemrn]

Déjà Vu

Chapter 2

New? Check out the first chapter HERE! (Go ahead; you're not late. Sure, we can wait.)

Series Summary: After an unforgettable night with a stranger, Princess Eleanor finds herself caught in a secret love triangle between a noble and a commoner.

Chapter Summary: Drake attends dinner at the palace, and even though some things will never change, he discovers quickly everyone has moved on without him.

Pairing(s): Liam x Riley; Bertrand x Savannah; Maxwell x m!OC; Olivia x Amalas

Word Count: ~4885

Warning: 🔞 Mature Audiences Only 🔞 language (like, a lot); references to infidelity, pregnancy; teasing/bullying

A/N: Welcome to my Crack Fic! If you are new, hi! Thank you for joining us! This story takes place approximately 2 decades after TRR/TRH. I have made some canonical changes (they will be mentioned). Characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry! This was not Beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Drake

The gentle purr of the engine beneath my grip of the steering wheel shoots pleasurable waves of pure octane ecstasy. My nerves ignite with palpable electricity, coursing through my every cell. The cream leather interior is like butter against my skin, and the scent of luxury leaves me completely intoxicated.

Lucky little shit.  

I still can't believe my nephew–my fucking nephew–owns this beauty. How many twenty-four-year-olds own an Aston Martin Vantage convertible? I wish I could give him more shit about it, coming from such privilege as being the oldest son of a duke, but Bartie has more than earned it. 

He may not have exactly been planned, but he was the answer, and essentially the savior, of Ramsford. Back when I lived in this God-forsaken country, some twenty-odd years ago, Ramsford was in financial ruin. My brother-in-law, Bertrand, Bartie's father, scraped, scrapped and pinched every monetary morsel to keep them afloat for years.

Then along came Bartie: finished the top of his class at some preppy private institute at Stormholt with a degree in finance, and in just three fucking years of working with his dad… well, that little shit has an Aston. 

I'm actually very proud of him. Surely he knows that. We weren't much for talking over the years, but I'd send cards telling him I loved him, and I'd ask about him during video calls with my sister.

Judging that I am sitting in his custom-painted cherry-red luxury car right now? Yeah, Bartie knows I care the world about him. The fact that he's going to allow me to drive it? Fuck, I don't think I even trust myself, especially on these European roadways. Sure, I learned how to drive in Cordonia, but that was over two decades ago. And it wasn't a stickshift.

Can't be that hard, right?

I study the mechanism of the gear shift, comparing it to a quick Google search on my phone as I wait for my nephew to return to the car with a necktie–my suggestion.  Afterall, we're heading to dinner with the royal family… A.K.A. my childhood best friend, his daughter. And his wife.

The love of my life.

Eh, don't feel sorry for me. I'm over it. Seriously. And besides, technically, Liam had first dibs on her; but then again, he had first dibs on several other women at the exact same time, social season and all for his highness, the fucking crown prince of Cordonia. Whoop-de-do.

He's the one that asked me to look after his hot American suitor during his own personal season of The Bachelor. Are you really surprised I fell for the chick? The guy was never around. And Riley and me? She... she was fun, smart. She was fucking hilarious, gave those noble bitches a real run for their money. And yet, she was still kind and caring. She was easy to talk to; I found myself opening up to her in ways that… well, no one else could. 

Riley Brooks. I guess you could say she's the reason I never settled down with anyone. No one–and I mean no one–ever measured up. 

Oh well. That was a long time ago. And she made her decision. Him. And even though he was like the brother I never had, I… I couldn't. I just couldn't sit back and watch them play house and build a life together. Well, for Liam, it was real. 

I had fallen for her. But so had Liam. I knew that if I stayed–if I had stayed, the secret of Riley and me wouldn't end. Shit, if it didn’t end after they said, "I do," when would it?

Time heals all wounds, right?

Bartie opens the door, and slides into the passenger seat with two neckties in hand, both black as he holds them up to his crisp white oxford. "What do you think?"

"Think about what? The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost? You look like a fucking mormon," I jest as I point to the one with a subtle matte paisley design. "Why are you fussing about this anyway?"

"Just cause," he passively offers as he stares in the visor mirror, knotting his tie. "I'm speaking with King Liam privately after dinner, and… well, I just want to look alright."

Sensing his raw nerves, I pause for a moment, watching him fidget anxiously with the garment. Jesus, when did my baby nephew become a fucking man?  I smile, placing my calloused fingers on his shoulder. "You do, kid." I fasten my seat belt as I turn my attention to the dash. "So, how do I put this thing into drive?"

------

It’s surreal walking into the palace after so many years away. White marble floors. Crimson curtains with gold accents.  Childhood memories flood my mind of our sword battles on the grand staircase, pretending to be blood-thirsty pirates. Or when we would gallop through the secret labyrinth of corridors deep within the estate, charging on our make-believe stallions like mighty Spanish conquistadors. 

We would always sneak to the kitchen between meals to taste the desserts being made for dinner–unless Ms. Marta was working. That fucking old hag. Most of my ass whoopings were from her tattling on us. 

Liam was a fucking weirdo on our kitchen raids.  We would slip through the window of the bakehouse, and when we would confirm that the coast was clear, he would always head straight for the pantry to a bag of pistachios. We're talking about a place that had every sweet, every chocolate, every cookie imaginable, readily available in sealed containers. And he chose nuts. 

I always had my eyes on a nightly staple in the palace: warm apple pie. They were made daily, and I could always find at least one cooling on the window sill. 

Fuck, now I'm salivating over a fucking pie.  

To this day, I humbly have to admit that Cordonia apple pies are the best–don't let the taste of a raw ruby fool you. Something about the bitter compounds reaching a certain temperature causes… something-something to do something… ah, hell. Tell you what. If you're that curious, ask Liam. I mean, I'm assuming he's still a nerd–

"Drake!" 

I startle at the greeting, instantly recognizing the tall, broad-shouldered blond striding closer to me, wearing… an apron? The fuck? The apron has the phrase, 'I love you a bushel and a peck'.

Oh, yeah. He's still a fucking dweeb. 

His outstretched hand takes mine as he shakes it before pulling me into an embrace. "It's so good to see you, old friend," he pats my back before standing back to take me in.

He looks so different, but undoubtedly, he still looks like Liam Rys. Stray pieces of silver litter his perfectly styled, perfectly placed waves. His strong jawline and high cheekbones were cut more razor-sharp by his more mature, thinned face. His strong chest and the swell of his biceps made him look like a fucking Greek god. Lucky bastard. It's like turning forty didn't wreak havoc on his appearance or metabolism, save for a few fine lines around his eyes and smile.

"Bartie," Liam smiles endearingly, "always a pleasure." He extends his arm to my nephew before the scared kid had a chance to bow. I could see the flood of panic in Bartie’s eyes, but I gave him a reassuring nod as he hesitantly took his majesty's hand.

Don't worry, kid. I won't tell your daddy about your ‘poor manners’.

"Please," Liam rests his hand on my shoulder while turning to guide us to the queen's hall, the largest dining area in the palace for private parties. The room boasted an impressive, custom eight-meter-long table that could easily fit twenty-five guests comfortably. "Come, come. Everyone is just being seated." We follow him down the east corridor when suddenly, the savory aroma of roast and… something garlicky teases my senses. Liam obviously caught the delicious waft too, turning back with a devious grin. "I hope you brought some hearty appetites. Riley and I have something special for you tonight."

Riley. Why does the mere mention of her name make me–shit. Get it together, Walker. You're over it.

As expected, my closest friends during my time in Cordonia are all present along with their families. Well, 'friends' might be too strong of a word to use on this crowd. They were nobles and friends of Liam. I was friends with Liam. Ergo, we were friends. Sorta. 

My sister Savannah and her husband Bertrand were sitting at the end towards my right, speaking in hushed tones to one another. They came separately from Bartie and myself from their estate since, well, there wasn't enough room for them and the triplets. Yes. You read right. Triplets. As in three babies at once. They had tried for years to have more children with sadly no avail, and it took a terrible toll on their marriage. I still remember Sav's tearful call five years ago, revealing to me that they were separating. I was preparing to hop on a plane to execute my brother-in-law's accidental demise for breaking my little sister's heart when I got a second call a few weeks later. They were pregnant. I got a call a week after that. I had three nieces on the way.  Sydnie, Stella and Simone: the cutest little shits you've ever seen… and not just because they have their uncle's dashing good looks. 

I'm talking about me, their uncle. Not their other uncle.

Maxwell Beaumont–said other uncle– was sitting next to his brother Bertrand. He officially married Baron Friedrich von Lehndorff twelve years ago when Cordonia overturned their marriage clause of traditional unions. One hundred forty-eight same-gender couples came forward that day to be legally married; Max and Rich led the way to the Capitol. They became a beacon of light and love, not just for Cordonia, but to the world. I remember reading about their march for equality and their victory in my local paper. Maxwell and I weren't necessarily best friends, but a sense of pride bloomed in my chest, seeing him do something so incredible and bold with his life.  

He and Rich have a 9-year-old daughter Gia and 4-year-old son Ollie, both adopted from South Korea. Don't tell them I told you, but I follow their TikTok. Those two are fucking adorable.

Across from the Beaumont-von Lehndorffs is the Scarlet Duchess herself. Olivia Nevrakis. And… I almost can't believe the sight myself–

"Hey, Walker!" She waves, a smile growing on her face.

What. The. Fuck. Was she… happy to see me?

She stands up and makes her way around the table of guests to greet me. 

With a hug.

Shock number two: she’s touching me in a friendly manner. But that's when I was hit with shock number three.

Is she? No, no… she can't be. Is that a–?

She must've seen the curiosity etching across my face as I stared down at a rounded abdomen that just pressed up against me during our embrace. She instinctively cradles her belly and giggles.

Giggles. 

Was I in the Twilight Zone?

She married Amalas a few years after I moved away. I wasn't surprised; the few times Livvy and I hooked up felt odd, like something was missing. I mean, not that I didn't satisfy her. That was never a problem for me with women. Turns out, ol' red was looking for a queen. 

Together they serve as queen and queen consort of Monterisso, and apparently are known for creating quite a riot at international events. I'm not surprised. They have four children: Macaela–Amalas’s daughter with her late husband–Josefine, Joaquin, and Joseph.  And then baby Timothy will be joining them soon. Because that name makes sense.

I'm starting to feel a little self-conscious. It's been over twenty years, and everyone seems to have grown up. Had families. Changed the world. And what did I have to show? Nothing. I mean, I did have quite a successful construction company that I developed with almost seventy employees under my leadership, but… well, that went under thanks to my business partner fucking me over. Fucking twat-waffle. 

But is this really what my life comes down to? Is this how you would sum up my life? Compared to childhood friends, I was still nothing. And here I was again on the coattails of Liam.

An abrupt delicate tink to a wine glass echoes over the various conversations and children squealing, silencing everyone as we turn our attention to the head of the table. 

And there she was. Just as breathtaking as the last day that I saw her.

"Drake," she gasps as I pull her into the dark shadows behind the barn. "We can't. Not anymore." 

I shake my head, her eyes refusing to meet mine. I took a step towards her, but she instinctively shifts, her back pressing against the wall.

"Brooks–"

"Rys," she interjects, the correction like a serrated blade piercing my skin. A sob escapes her as rivers course down the planes of her velvet skin.

Placing my arm against the splintered wood next to her head, I lean closer to her, capturing her intoxicating scent. My hand slips up her neck, my fingers tenderly lifting her chin to look at me, to captivate me with those ocean eyes.

My thumb caresses her rosy lips, feeling her breath hitch. I flutter my mouth across her wet cheeks, my feather touch kissing away her tears.

But we suddenly freeze.

"Riley?"

Liam's smooth voice carries over the moonlit pasture, drowning out our abilities to hear the bustle of the reception.

"Riley…Don't–"

But it's too late. Before I could stop her, she was gone.

I blink. Casually shifting in my seat, I glance nonchalantly around me. Whew, everyone is still staring at the head of the table. No one seems to notice that I got lost in my thoughts for a moment.  I nervously scratch through my stubble before grabbing the water glass in front of me. I take a longass sip of water, but when I pull the glass from my mouth, two crystal-blue orbs with long, flirty lashes are locked on me.

Fuck, I choke on the water on my attempt to swallow it down. I start coughing violently as Maxwell starts patting my back.

"You okay there, Drakey?"

I finally take a gulp of air, and glare at him. "Yes… and it's Drake, Maxi pad." Okay. I admit it. It was childish to retaliate by calling him the name me and some of the other guys called Maxwell growing up. But to my surprise, he laughs before finger-gunning me.

"Good one, Drake. I haven't heard that in years."

I turn back to our royal hosts just in time for Liam to give me a friendly nod, as if to ensure that I'm okay without creating more of a scene. But when I glance over at Riley, she quickly averts her eyes, slipping her hand into Liam's. 

Jesus Christ. If that was a sign of how things were going to be, her cowering and treating me like I'm some kind of criminal for something she did willingly… something she pursued… fuck that. Send me back to Texas.

"We brought wine!" Rich singsongs, pulling out two large bottles from a nearby refrigerated wine rack. "Who'd like–?"

I refused to let the poor bastard finish.

"Me."

------

I can't remember a single time in my life where I have been so positively and exuberantly grateful for Maxwell fucking Beaumont. He fended off the anticipated awkwardness and helped the dinner conversation progress, making the casual assist to include me in this special meal that was supposedly in my honor. 

I'm not saying the others were rude to me, Liam especially. He was treating me like a long lost brother, like the prodigal son that has finally returned home. And I'm not going to lie: it felt good to be reunited with him.

But Riley couldn't even look me in the eye, and judging by the flashes of guilt and her over-eagerness to leave the room every chance she got, I know she never told her husband the truth about our relationship.  He had his suspicions. And I owned up to falling for her, thus the ending of our friendship and me moving to Texas. I mean, I thought it was the end…

But, I didn't just fall for her; it wasn't pining for her from afar, hoping she would give me the time of day.

We were in love.

"This was absolutely divine," Savannah sings praises, taking a sip of her tea. Everyone begins chiming in with their sentiments, thanking the royal couple for the delicious meal. Yes, they prepared it. I know; I was impressed myself.

Individual conversations continue through dessert and coffee when suddenly, the ring of a phone interrupts us into silence.

"Excuse me," Amalas whispers with the phone against her ear, "I need to take this. It's Josie."

Liam and Riley flash looks of concern at one another. "I hope everything is okay," Riley says softly as she twirls her necklace between her fingers, turning to her husband with a more hushed tone. "Did Ellie text you?"

Liam is already looking at his phone, but he's casually shaking his head, appearing more relaxed than his wife. His gaze catches my curious look as I try to put the pieces together of what's going on this evening.

"Josie–err, Josefine–is out with our Eleanor and Madeleine's daughter Bethany this evening." 

Ah, that's right… Josefine must go by Josie, Amalas’s second daughter, her first daughter with Olivia. Shit, I can’t keep these spawn straight….

"Crisis averted!" Amalas sweeps back into the room, placing her cell into her pocket. "The girls said the restaurant was too crowded, so they're going over to the Vancoeur's for a–" she imitates an American valley girl, "girls' night."

"Vancoeur?" I mutter, turning to Maxwell. "Did he… reproduce, too?" The idea sounded ridiculous. What woman lowered her standards that low to sleep with that bastard?

"Yep," Maxwell responds, "he has a beautiful daughter." He takes an obnoxious sip of his espresso. "You know, Bethany, the girl that's out with Eleanor and Josie."

No. Fucking. Way.

"I thought Beth was Madeleine's kid?"

"It is." Maxwell chuckles as mischief glows in his eyes. "Oh Drakey, you missed it. Maddie and Neville were actually married for about ten years." Pulling a napkin up to his mouth, he lowers his voice. "Rumor has it she was about to lose what was left of her inheritance, slept with that weasel, then faked a pregnancy to get him to propose." He snickers. "I wish I could've been a fly on the wall when her fake pregnancy turned out to be a real pregnancy."

"What the–?"

"Mhrmm," Maxwell bounces his eyebrows, "she claims she had no idea." He stares at me intently before rolling his eyes and gesturing with his hand a dramatically large curve over his stomach. “Agnes, my seamstress–can you believe she’s still working for us? Well, anyway, that woman can work absolute miracles…” He takes another sip of his drink.  He quiets his voice while he averts his eyes, slowly crossing his legs. “There was no hiding that bump.”

I shake my head in disbelief, chuckling under my breath when suddenly, I feel a large hand on my shoulder. I whip around quickly, pulling my body away, when I see–

"Shit, Li–"

"I didn't mean to interrupt," he offers a friendly smile.

I blow away the air I had quickly sucked in, willing my heartbeat to slow down. I guess I'm still a little on edge being here, but fuck, that scared me.

"I thought before you left tonight, we could discuss, um… arrangements. For you."

"Yeah… yeah, of course." Following his lead, we start to make our way to the exit for privacy.

When Liam invited me to Cordonia, he was very specific that he wanted to help me get back on my feet. And I believe him. I know his generosity is genuine; he doesn't have any ulterior motives or some secret vendetta against me from the past. At least I hope he doesn't. But this isn't a vacation for me; part of the deal was I needed to work. I'm not sure if that meant finding temp jobs or something more long-term. 

“Do I smell imported cheap whiskey?”

I stop short of the door.

Fuck me. Leo Rys. Liam’s older brother and notorious international womanizer. The man just turned fifty last year, and it’s like he unlocked a new group of admirers, especially now that he’s sportin’ a little silver around the edges these days. 

He and Liam are complete polar opposites. Apples and oranges. Night and day. If Liam was thoughtful and selfless… well, you get the gist. And clearly by his entrance, I’m discovering that some things never change.

As if his deep bellow wasn’t warning enough, his black leather boots announce his presence as he struts across the polished tile, his arm hooked around his helmet. He slaps his free hand on my shoulder, squeezing it firmly as he obnoxiously sniffs me.

"Cheap whiskey… and… is that a hint of beef jerky and cow patties I'm detecting?"

"Good to see you, too." Jackass. I slap his chest before pushing him off of me. I may have used a little more force than I should've. My bad. 

"Am I late for dinner?" He slaps Liam on the back before walking towards the kitchen.

Liam sighs. "Just… a little–"

"Ahh, don't worry," he stops to kiss Riley on the cheek. "I'll serve myself."

As Leo disappears, Liam and I give each other a knowing look before leaving the room as well.

------

"Trust me, you're going to love what Riley has done with the guest quarters."

Liam and I had a good talk. A really good talk. We didn't have to say it, but it was clear: we missed each other. We missed our camaraderie, the confidence we had in one another. He was the first person I called when Dad died; I was the first person he called when Leo abdicated. We grew up and became men together.

But then Riley Brooks happened… but, I'm guessing you know that by now.

Liam has already a number of jobs for me to sift through, several carefully picked out that would play to my strengths with architecture and construction. But since these jobs were either on the grounds or here locally in the Capitol, he insisted I move into one of the private guest quarters with its own private entrance and balcony.

'You don't need to be making that drive from Ramsford everyday.' He's right. It's quite the journey, not to mention I don't exactly have a vehicle of my own here. So, I'm back in the palace. Ain't life a bitch?

"Now I hope you don't mind all-electric. The gas lines and how they were designed don’t–"

"Beggars can't be choosers, love."

Her words are like ice, the sharp chill making even her husband shudder. 

"Riley–"

"What?" She giggles under her breath. "I was joking." She turns a venomous stare towards me. "Drake knows I'm kidding. Don't you, Drake?"

I clear my throat. "Yeah," I play along, "good one."

"Love?" She slips her hand around Liam's arm, lowering her voice into a whisper. "Bartie Beaumont has requested to speak with you privately."

"Oh!" Liam brightens. "Sure. Of course." He gives me a pleasant nod. "Excuse me, Drake. And, please. Feel free to look around."  He begins to make his way towards the dining area, Riley following in step behind with no acknowledgement to me.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I needed a moment to myself anyway.

"Actually," Liam turns on his heel, waving a finger in the air. "On second thought, Love?" He smiles lovingly towards Riley, placing his hands affectionately on her shoulders. "How about you go show Drake the renovations you made?"

Shit.

------

Riley barely spoke two words to me besides pointing to the obvious fixtures and control buttons in the guest suite.

Light... Refrigerator… Bathroom… 

"This, uh, looks really nice," I try to converse, combing my fingers through my hair. "I never thought I'd see the day this room would have a–"

"We don't have to do this." She walks out of the room and into another part of the suite.

Why was she being such a frigid bitch? 

Fuck, I need a smoke.

I take a deep breath, shoving my hands in my pockets as I stroll back out into the hallway of the apartment.

"Is there anything else you needed to see?" She swallows thickly. She tries to remain stoic with a stiff bottom lip. Her jaw ticks… but her glare betrays her as something else brews that I … can’t quite discern.

But then, without warning, Riley's eyes roam down my body, catching on the crotch of my khakis before returning to my face.

Eyes up here, your majesty.

She clears her throat, pretending I didn't just catch her checking me out. "Um, anything else you wanted to see… of the suite, that is? Because, uh, we should probably –" she shuffles backwards, pointing aimlessly behind her, towards the door.

"You go on ahead," I tell her. "I'm gonna check out the balcony if you don't mind."

A heated swirl of rouge ignites on Riley’s cheeks. She nods, turning on her heel quickly without saying a word, and exits the apartment in record time. 

Thank God. I don't know what just happened, but… this is a very interesting turn of events. Does she still have feelings for me?

No. Stop.

Shit. Maybe moving in is a mistake.

I make my way outside, and damn. The view from this balcony is stunning. It actually overlooks the Cordonia countryside, which means less lights from the city and plenty of stars to be seen at night. It's... actually a nice reminder of home.

Taking a seat on the balustrade, I pull out a cigarette and nestle it between my teeth as I search for my lighter. I pat my pockets, both in the back and front of my pants before checking my shirt.

Shit. Can the universe just pass me a fucking bone?

I slump over, resting my elbows on my knees. Holding my hands in front of me, I begin to pick at my calluses as the events of the evening replay like a movie reel in my head.

But suddenly, there's a snick, then a spark; then a single flame is held in front of me. Fishing my cigarette out from behind my ear, I fix it between my lips and lean into the fire. I pull heavily, deeply until the familiar burn touches my anxious nerves, and I blow away my initial puff.

"You know smoking can kill you."

I raise an eyebrow at the deep voice, taking another inhale before blowing it in Leo's face.

"Malaka."

I chuckle at his insult, watching that smug grin pull out his own cigarette to light. He leans against the side of the balcony before hoisting himself up onto the balustrade.

"So," he licks his lips, looking at me inquisitively. "How does it feel to be back in lovely Cordonia?"

I look at him, scrunching my face. Really? That's the best you can do? I look back down, flicking some ash on the ground.

"How does it feel–" he blows smoke over his shoulder, "--being back close to Riley?"

My head shot up.

"Ohhh," he snickers, "that got Walker's attention really fast."

How the fuck does Leo know? How the fuck does Leo know anything? I can feel my heart begin to pound, my eyebrows furrowing in anger.

"Now hold up, Walker," he holds up his hands in defense. "I come in peace. I don't care that you fucked my sister-in-law once upon a time… okay, fine. Maybe just a little–"

"What do you want, Leo?"  I interrupt, irritation baited in my voice.

He looks down fidgeting with his fingers.  When he turns back to me, he has an indiscernible expression on his face, as if a wave of vulnerability is crashing over him.

"I know it can be… challenging, you know? Moving back to Cordonia after a hiatus, and I figured tonight was probably a lot for you."

And now Leo is trying to have a heart-to-heart with me… What the fuck happened to these people while I was gone?

"I thought maybe… you could use a friend."

"Well," I stand up, taking a step away. "Thanks. I appreciate it–"

"I mean it," he holds a hand to his chest. "Say–" he jumps to his feet, sandwiching himself between me and the door. "What are you doing tonight?"

Besides leading the exciting life of letting my nephew drive me back to his parent's house, eating a bag of Doritos in my boxers and getting shit-faced?

"There's a new club opening in town tonight. Tons of people. Who's who. VIP–" 

"Thanks, but–"  I try to shove past him, but he stops me, putting his hands against my chest.

"Six full bars, and–" he wiggles his eyebrows. "Lots… and lots… of fresh Cordonian-grade pussy. How do you like them apples?"

Like I said, some things never change.

"C’mon, Walker… you in?"

~🖤~

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Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

[chaoskirin]

I blocked this guy for spreading misinformation, but I want to address the points they made so people don't buy into this shit.

"Have you really never heard of a denoiser?" Glaze and Nightshade cannot be defeated by denoisers. Please see the paper I link in #2. This point is amazingly easy to debunk, and I'm not sure why people are still championing it. Both programs work by changing what the software "sees." Denoising can blur these artifacts, but it does not fundamentally get rid of them.

"White knighting for amoral techbro apps." This was a very early techbro attack on Glaze to try to convince people it was another way to steal data. As I said in an earlier post, it does use a dataset to enable it to add artifacts to your work. It is essentially using AI against itself, and it is effective. There's a whole peer-reviewed paper on how it works. I've posted it before, but if you missed it, you can read it here: https://arxiv.org/abs/2310.13828 (and unlike Generative AI apps, this paper explains exactly how the technology works.)

"Wasting resources." The point is to make the machines unusable, which ultimately will reduce the stress on our infrastructure. If the datasets no longer work, the use of them decreases. Unfortunately, the inability for people to adequately protect their work has led to massive electricity-wasting farms for generative AI, just like what happened with NFTs and cryptocurrency. If enough people inject unusable data in the the systems, the systems themselves become unusable, and the use decreases.

"My artistic vanity." I'm not a good artist. But my artwork HAS been scraped and used. I don't know why I have to keep saying this to make my anger and pain valid, but a few months back, all my artwork was revenge-scraped and stuffed into Midjourney. The person who did it also stripped my name from it, so I am not even able to HOPE to have it removed. I have nothing left to lose. I want to make those motherfuckers pay.

"The google thing only defeats weak watermarks." This is true. But a "strong" watermark must be completely different on each work you post, and also must cover most of the work. This is easily researched. I don't know about you, but I don't have time to make a new watermark on each piece I post, and I also don't want it to cover most of the artwork. Just so you know, the watermark detector works by looking for the same pattern on multiple works by the same person. If you use the same watermark on each piece, it doesn't matter how strong you think it is. It's removable. If you have the time to do it, then yes, this is effective. But it needs to be complex and different on each piece.

Next, I've seen a couple posts going around today stating that you can't even have an account on Glaze because they're closed.

They're not. But to prevent techbros from making accounts, you have to message the team so they can make sure you aren't using AI in your work. The instructions are here: https://glaze.cs.uchicago.edu/webinvite.html

Nightshade is not available on the web yet, but Glaze is. Nightshade will be soon, and they are planning a combo web app that will both Glaze and Nightshade your work.

In the meantime, if you want someone to Nightshade your work for you, please let me know. I have offered this before, and I will offer it again. Email me at aeryn.christie.biz@gmail.com with your artwork, and let me know you'd like me to Nightshade it for you. There will always be some artifacts, but I will work with you until you are happy with the result.

Lastly, I know my messages are working because I keep getting people spreading misinformation that these things don't work. Please know that I have done the research, I do have a personal stake in this (because hundreds of my pieces are part of Midjourney now) and I am only posting this because I truly believe this is the way to fight back against plagiarism machines.

I don't know why people are so angry when I post about them. I know people don't all have access, which is why I'm offering my resources to help. I know this is a new technology, which is why I read through the boring scientific paper myself so I can validate the claims.

This is the last post I'll make on the matter. If you want to ask questions, fine, but I don't really have the mental capacity to argue with everyone anymore, and I'm not going to.

[distantwave]

recommend me 5 songs, so I can associate them with you and learn more music 🫶🏻 (I just remembered a time I asked you about your Spotify playlists??????)

Ough okay okay I feel like I’ve gotta get wildly specific songs in here (these aren’t ranked)

1. Secrets - One Republic

This song was in the soundtrack for The Sorcerer’s Apprentice in 2010 and it was specifically in this one scene where they’re in this giant fucking Tesla coil and the guys playing the song and the electricity matches up to the music and I was ten years old when this movie came out and I went absolutely INSANE for it and it’s been giving me brain worms ever since like I’m being so serious u have to google that scene rn it’s probably not good but it’s so good

2. Honky Tonk Badonkadonk - Trace Adkins

SPECIFICALLY the one off the 2005 Dangerous Man album!!! The original is also good but the second one is so much more fun. This ones my go to favorite karaoke song in the world bc I could absolutely sing it blackout drunk I know it so well. I was super super into when I was little bc I thought the “slap ur grandma” line was funny (I was 5) but I also think it’s the perfect karaoke song bc a) you don’t really need to be able to sing to sing it b) the whole song is just about how hot this one girl is c) I absolutely don’t look like someone who would adore country music so it’s silly goofy

3. If it’s True - Hadestown

My favorite song from my favorite musical in the whole wide world. Hadestown is genuinely the most beautifully crafted musical I’ve ever heard/seen/experienced/whatever and this song in particular is just so so tremendous. I fell in love with the touring cast in 2017 and when the broadway recording came out with this song on it I was just absolutely blown away it’s SUCH a good song

4. Apple - the Narcissist Cookbook

Another where it’s my favorite favorite, this one’s my favorite song/bit of spoken word from my favorite artist. All of tNC’s stuff is really cool and phenomenally well written but the first time I listened through this one the very last line just stuck itself in my brain oh so hard and has continued to stay there ever since. AND!! The song was made all the better bc I got to see tNC live over the summer with @simonswaifu and I was so certain Matt wasn’t going to do much spoken word but I was WRONG!!! And I’ve never been more elated to be wrong bc I got to hear Apple live and it was oh so delightful

5. Living Dead Girl - Rob Zombie

Another one I was obsessed with when I was little! I distinctly remember listening to this song soo many times in my dads truck when it was just the two of us driving when I was like, 6? And something about it still fucks to this day (I will admit tho I only genuinely know like, half the lyrics bc this song is about the vibe ya know, who cares if u can actually understand what he’s saying as long as ur feeling the vibe)

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

Genshin Impact

Look the literal only things I know about genshin impact is that one jaidenanimations soundbit that got popular on tiktok and the fact one of my friends got asked if they were a kinnie because they dont like alcohol like two years ago

What even IS the plot of Genshin Impact, I genuinely have no clue

After my deep dive of like 20 minutes into genshin lore below I've got some vague ideas here

Kokichi is a teenager living in Inazuma, however due to his dishonorable nature, tricks, and disrespect for the shogun, he rarely goes into town without a disguise as he is VERY unpopular. He does have a trade though, firework making! He loves making fireworks a lot, and often tries to undercut the more traditional makers with cheaper prices when he does go into town in disguise. His fireworks also make great distracts when he and Dice go to do some shenanigans!

Anyways Dice has a handful of humans but it's mostly made up of the yokai of the nation island thing, as Kokichi has found a kinship in the trickery and more playful attitudes of the yokai, often joking that he CLEARLY is an albino Bake-Danuki actually. He stole a delusion from some fancy looking boring guy who he pickpocketed from and gained electricity powers however using it makes him more paranoid that someone is going to come kill him.

He tries to use it sparingly, mostly for distractions, lighting fireworks, and whatever else he can use to buy a chance to flee. He abhors all fighting, believing any physical fight is only two wrong moves away from a fight to the death, something he utterly despises.

I feel like his main goal is to dismantle the duel system, he finds it utterly horrifying and perhaps even lost someone to it and this further alienates him from the rest of the people. Perhaps someone even tried to challenge him to a duel and he had to make a run for it and that's why he's so distrusting of people? He has some plot point where he has to let his delusion break to save someone and prove that even with his fear he still cares about people so so much and this lets him get an actual proper vision? maybe? I dunno jack shit

I don't know what the playable characters are even doing but i guess he could maybe be one? I dunno, weirdo who lives with the knock off tanukis and thinks humans are dumb violent brutes but he secretly cares so so much

Check under the cut if you wanna see me trying to figure out the plot of genshin

*some frantic googling later*

Okay he definitely a vision

*more frantic googling*

no wait he'd definitely have a delusion instead, he likely stole it, and i feel like it has a side effect of like, making him more paranoid or something? He probably has it on like a ring as a sort of "kiss the ring" mafia reference and also to magical girl pose while he fights and he probably has a plot point where after his delusion breaks he gets granted an actual vision

*more frantic googling*

okay i think when I see crossover art of this people give kokichi electro? and i see no reason to not some of these things do give vague kokichi vibes, honestly didnt even realize this was electricity it was purple so i assumed it was like dark spooky scary energy

this means he's in Inazuma

*more frantic googling*

SCARAMOUCHE AND WANDERER ARE THE SAME FUCKING CHARACTER?! i feel robbed

*more frantic googling*

Okay so its a very samurai esque culture mixed with trickster animals hanging around? I don't think Kokichi would be big about honor and all that I can see him leading a band of misfit like him mixed with some of the yokai that he's befriended by helping them pull some nonsense, he definitely has a clan "seal" he just made one day on a whim and will cry VERY LOUDLY when you point out he made that up

*more frantic googling*

oooo fireworks? Okay, I've got an idea

*more frantic googling*

I still don't know what the plot is

[inkribbon796]

Egotober 2023 Day 5: Roses are Red, Violets are Blue

Summary: . . . Florida Teen Arrested for Putting Humans in Jars at Florida Zoo

Prompt: Jar

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

Bing liked humans, they were fun. Some were less fun than others, but on average he liked them.

And in Gainesville he saw all kinds of interesting and fun people. He liked going to school fairs and the schools definitely liked having an actual sentient AI talking to their budding STEM students. He had the names of hundreds and even thousands of budding scientists.

His names.

Bing wanted to see what they would become, what they would do.

One of his names however was causing problems in the city. And Bing only knew that cause this human child, a teenager really, was using something he had given to every name he kept tabs on. A little pin with a minute amount of dead nanites. Unusable, but noticeable.

A little budding eco-terrorist, and a dangerous one. Most of the time, his names resorted to firecrackers or at the most dangerous a pipe bomb.

This one was more dangerous, this one was causing civic engineering damage. They were smart, not just in what they were doing, but in being smart enough not to get caught.

And Google was starting to get interested. He refused to tell Bing why he was so intent on finding this person.

Fourteen hours after he’d called the Egoton branch for help, he got a call.

“Bing, what’s up?” Silver called.

“Finally,” Bing said. “Finished putting out fires?”

There was silence for a bit. “No. We’re fighting Irish and American immigration to get Marvin over here. Fuck Dark, and fuck no one here being able to read aura. What’s the problem? An eco-terrorist?”

“Yeah, one of Gainesville’s brightest is turning to crime to push back against a couple things in the city. And they’re smart enough not to get caught. We’ve been trying to catch this kid for four months.”

“How old is this person supposed to be?” Silver asked.

“Seventeen,” Bing said. “We think. They’re at least in high school.”

“Too young,” Silver said. “Between them and the guy that keeps trying to solve crime over here we might be dealing with a miniature league.”

“Don’t have to, dude,” Bing said.

“What does that mean?” Silver's tone sounded dangerous.

“Google’s interested in them, not Dark, Googs is hella interested.” Bing’s mind was already made up.

“We can’t have children fighting super villains, they’ll die. I’d rather fight against them than have them up against Dark. I lost Iblis, I will not lose anyone else.”

“Iblis wasn’t killed by a villain,” Bing said.

“I’m not arguing this with you. Dark travels down there to talk with some snake kingpin almost monthly. And he can be down there in minutes. I take either nine or three hours depending on where the fuck Egoton is because I sure don’t know where I am right now.”

“I can’t let Google have this kid, I can’t,” Bing said and hung up. Silver tried to call him back but Bing didn’t pick up.

Bing kept ignoring him as he broke apart into nanites and jumped from electrical outlet to outlet until he got to the nearby zoo where the latest situation was.

The eco-terrorist was in the zoo, terrorizing some of the patrons in, what felt like to Bing, the funniest way possible. Three patrons trapped under what looked like giant glass jars, ranting at them.

It was as adorable as it was dangerous. A seventeen-year-old in blue and black biker gear. It was almost enough to make Bing forget about how much damage they’d done.

“How do you like it when something throws things at you?” The teenage future-supervillain told a woman whose jar he was standing on top of. They sounded male-leaning but Bing had been corrected enough times.

“Well,” Bing said as he leaned against one of the jars where a young man was inside of it. Smiling. “Should I make the joke, dude? Or are you going to traumatize these people in a whole new way?”

The teenager almost startled and climbed off it before they could fall off of it. “Bing. You’re early.”

And they landed directly into Bing’s nanites. Nanites surged around them to bind the teen where they stood. Making it look like the top half of a jar.

“Nah, I was going to get you eventually, kid.” Bing said as he took the time to free the civilians and send them off.

Only one of the trapped people tried to beat up the tied and bound teenager.

Bing easily snagged him by the arm and threw him back. “Nah, big guy. You don’t need to pretend to be a man by beating up a tied up teenager.”

And for good measure, Bing audibly and visibly took a picture of his face. That got the guy to run off.

Leaving Bing with the “junior supervillain” on the mostly empty path. “Hey there.”

“I have a right to remain silent and I have a right to a lawyer.” The young villain said.

Bing used his nanites to unclip the kid’s motorcycle helmet. “You sure do.”

“Hey!” The teen said, trying to twist away. But the helmet came off and there was a perfectly normal teenage face.

Bing didn’t even need to start scanning his face. The android knew exactly who this was.

Logan E. Naraj. Honors high school student, and valedictorian at Buchholz High School. He/Him. The most promising of Bing’s names. Perhaps the single smartest student in the entire area, let alone in Gainesville. Maybe in the entire state, even. Not just in grades, Logan was devastatingly intelligent, and his eco-terrorist actions were proving it.

“I knew it had to be you,” Bing said. “You’re one of the only people smart enough to be doing half the stuff you’ve been doing.”

That seemed to disarm Logan a little bit, clearly not expecting a compliment. But he didn’t say anything in kind.

Bing stuck the helmet to Logan’s chest with nanites. Then Bing started taking Logan out of the zoo.

Police met with Bing about halfway towards the entrance. He was placed under arrest, and placed in the back of a cop car. Where Bing followed them closely to the station.

They got Logan into a little holding room, Bing not letting the kid out of his sight. It was only a matter of time before Google tried to sweep in. Bing couldn’t even guess what Google wanted with an actual human, but Logan had yet to actually kill anybody. If Google got involved he would quickly start.

They were waiting for a state lawyer and CPS to come in for Logan. So all they could do, since Logan refused to cooperate, was wait.

One of the investigators came over to Bing.

“Your friend come for him yet?” The officer said.

“No, but that’s probably because the dude knows I’m here,” Bing shrugged.

“Do you know what he wants yet?” The officer was shifting around but Bing didn’t pull up a camera to see it. He just shook his head and they were quiet for a good minute.

Then the officer clearly felt like silence was a bad idea.

“Logan Naraj, glad to finally have a name for what might be a two-year stint in juvie,” the officer said as Logan sat on the couch, Bing refusing to take his eye off him. So the second camera had to come up.

“And not the first Naraj we’ve had in the system, probably won’t be the last time either.” The office was giving Logan a scoffing, dismissive look.

“Why?” Bing asked.

“His older brother is currently serving a five year sentence at Florida Corrections, assault with a deadly weapon. He was sentenced last year. No parents, no surprise really.”

“Hmm, don’t think you should be making comments like that about a kid smart enough to make death rays.” Bing’s synthetic heart gave out a little bit.

The officer didn’t seem convinced but Bing didn’t care, he only had to convince Silver. And Bing was trying to cover every argument Silver had. He needed to keep this kid out of trouble, eternally bench him, and keep him in school.

He was already sending out a couple of emails as he’d been taking Logan to the station. And as he was looking at Logan and hearing this human bad talk him, he got a response from the only person besides Silver that he needed permission from.

“He’s going to be my apprentice,” Bing said.

“Why?” The investigator said.

“Look, either I take him for the Coalition, and he does community service for us, or Google takes him and he builds weapons for Dark and the League. Choose.”

“You said that just Google was interested in him,” the officer said.

“Yeah, and Google works for Dark, if Googs has anything, Dark has it,” Bing said. “And I don’t know if you know what happens in Egoton but Wilford doesn’t stay in jail, now does he?”

Bing waited to go in when the CPS rep and the lawyer had finally gotten in. He let them go in and talk to Logan before Bing walked in without the cops.

He grabbed a chair and turned it so he could lean his arms on the top of the backrest.

“Hey,” Bing smiled. Before the lawyer could make a noise, Bing kept talking. “You don’t have to say a word. You’re probably going back home after this. I just wanted to cut to the point where we make a deal, not waste your time.”

“He doesn’t have to take any kind of deal,” the lawyer said.

“Oh, I know,” Bing said, still smiling. “In fact, I hope he sleeps on it. Decisions need time to make them wisely, and I know Logan here is a smart kid.”

The lawyer glanced at Logan, and Bing let them remind Logan not to say a thing.

Bing pulled out a little card with the Coalition insignia on it and Bing’s contact information. “I want you to personally become my apprentice with the Coalition.”

“You can’t be serious,” The CPS rep said.

“Oh, buddy, I’m very serious,” Bing said. He looked at Logan. “I know Googs has been contacting you, and I know because he was gloating about it. And I don’t want Google anywhere near you, dude. I don’t want Dark near you because anything Google has, belongs to Dark. Dark doesn’t care about anything but himself, that’s just a fact.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but his standoffishness didn’t seem as cold. Which was good.

“So we’re gonna take you home, you’re gonna think on this, and then if you want you call me. And we can start some balls rolling. Get you some more equipment. Have you not go to jail for almost destroying the bridge? Think of it as cutting around juvie and skipping right to community service?”

Logan stayed quiet but Bing could see the gears turning.

Bing smiled and walked out, leaving Logan with the humans, and a smile on Bing’s face.

The police were pissed, no surprise. They’d caught Logan but were unable to arrest him on the spot.

Bing watched CPS take Logan home, where he basically was by himself, and was given instructions not to contact Bing or Google.

The kid didn’t last the night.

Bing stood on his apartment step, to be polite, and waited as Logan answered the door.

“I’m not saying yes,” Logan said as Bing walked in.

“Well, this sure ain’t a no, dude,” Bing smiled as he looked around and basically placed a tracking marker in the place so he could quickly come and go from the place.

“Hey, you like Wendy’s, kid?” Bing said.

The kid just glared at him. “I’m vegetarian.”

“Neat, cool,” Bing smiled at him. “I’ll order something else.”

“You don’t eat human food,” Logan said.

“I mean, I can, but we’ll be talking about this for a while and you’ve been out all night,” Bing said as he sat backwards on a rickety kitchen chair. Leaving the slightly comfier armchair for Logan.

“I’m just allowed to join the Coalition?” Logan asked.

Bing gave Logan a huge smile. “I’m in charge of the South Branch of the Coalition, only Silver and Jackie have any extra say on stuff. I got Jackie’s approval a couple hours ago, and I can convince Silver. Don’t worry. The only thing you’ve got to worry about, little man, is staying in school, and staying out of trouble.”

“You’ve promised change,” Logan said.

“There are a lot of things wrong in this city, and with the country, Lo, you’re taking on the small fry. Normal people. I want bigger, dude. I want to take on people like Dark, people who are stagnating the city.” Bing said as he tried not to lean forward in the chair and break it.

“If I joined, what would I be doing day-to-day?” Logan asked.

“Investigative work, maybe researching various magical and no-magical artifacts, you’ll be in school a lot of the time, there’s no getting around that.” Bing said.

“Okay, if it’s between you and Dark, I guess I don’t have a choice,” Logan said.

Bing stood up and clapped his hands. “Alrighty, then, dude.”

Out of his arm he pulled out something that looked more like a watch then the rest of the Coalition communicators. “To our newest hero. Welcome to the party, my man.”

“Logic,” Logan said.

“That your name?” Bing asked.

“Yes, if I could pick one it would be: Logic,” Logan said.

“Perfect, my dude,” Bing said.

“Where do you stay, or are you allowed to tell me?” Logan asked.

“Hey, I live anywhere with good bandwidth,” Bing said, shrugging. “You need me anywhere, anytime, and I got you.”

“Noted,” Logan said, trying to act normal but Bing wasn’t fooled. Those facial expressions, that heart rate. He cared a lot, that made Bing very happy.

Bing held out his hand. “I can order that food, and then you can get some sleep. You’ve got school tomorrow, after all and we’ll keep talking about Coalition stuff after school.”

“Alright,” Logan said.

So Bing ordered some late night vegetarian Chinese food. Logan ate and then he went to bed, and Bing went to go and officially tell Google to back off from Logan. That he had it under control and Logan got to be theirs without also being Dark’s.

[seithr]

10 Mutuals I'd like to know better

Tagged by @milkywayes !! Hi heehoo thanks for the tag!!

Under a cut because uhhh when prompted I like talking,

Last song I listened to: Dramaturgy by Eve! me and the songs with identity/mask/heart/gunshot themes. you know how it is <-oc brained

Favorite content to watch: Animation of any sort, variety gaming youtube, HEMA/medieval weaponry or armour videos and talks. And animals rolling around doing things.

Favorite games: Fire Emblem Three Houses, Mass Effect Trilogy, Katana Zero, Final Fantasy XIV. Shoutout to Dragon's Dogma and BlazBlue also. I just made a wholeass chart abt this on twitter, I'll add it in a moment,

Favorite color: Electric, neon, radioactive, eyeburning cyan.

Favorite animals: Dragons, crocodilians, hedgehogs, manuls, med-to-large dogs.

Favorite food: Shrimp tempura, mashed potatoes, butter chicken, schnitzel... dollar store chocolate truffles. Tomatoes in general?

Sweet, spicy, or savory: ohhh tough choice... "It depends" is a copout answer though, but I can't handle anything above mildly spicy so not that 😔 Currently sweet..? I'm having a granola bar and coffee rn

Current obsessions: massy fect... I have moments of being gripped hard by scifi (and mech stuff), and I have been IN this grip for over a month now... Mechs are just another kind of suit of armour. the constant obsession is dragons/fantasy in general tho

Last book I read: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley! Really good, I read it on the beach a while back—currently forcing my way thru Moby Dick by Herman Melville. Why do I always read books about being miserable in the cold while on the beach.

Last thing I googled: "wyvern ammo monhun" <- fake MH HBG fan forgot what the ammo types were called before I made a joke

Relationship: single and good w that 👍

Fun fact: 🇨🇱🇨🇦‼️ I collect cool looking coins and dragon figures/statues! I've been interested in medieval armour and weaponry since I was like eight or younger. I was a chess team nerd before I eventually upgraded to Fire Emblem. I like 3D modelling and animation when I'm not doin 2D art and have old models of my own chars lying around somewhere.

As for tags UHHHHH. Hm im not sure I regularly talk to ten people here as much as I show up in your tags... Nevertheless @arundolyn @goofballproximitysurveyor @jinkisaragi @p3n-dragon @alduinffxiv @kirseber @rexbolt @angelictactics @lululeighsworld @davexander hiii you guys are neat and I like seeing you around. feel free to answer if you like maybe,

[jack-is-lost]

Attraction Before Sunrise (TLB fanfic)

Have this somewhat corny moment between David and Michael. Just a small snippet of content that's been sitting in a google doc for over a year. I don't know if I'll ever expand upon it so... yeah? =)

David and Michael waited until after the Santa Carla Boardwalk had closed before sneaking onto the rollercoaster. They had been talking and laughing with each other for hours, and the adrenaline rush of sneaking onto a rollercoaster at night only added to the excitement. They climbed up the stairs to the top of the coaster, the metal steps creaking beneath their feet. Michael's heart was pounding in his chest, and he felt a rush of excitement mixed with fear. He had never done anything like this before, but David made him feel invincible.

When they reached the top, David leaned over the edge and looked down at the empty boardwalk. Michael followed suit, and they both marveled at the view.

"Wow, the view up here is amazing," Michael said, breathless with adrenaline.

David smirked. "I told you it was worth the climb."

They sat there in silence for a moment, taking in the view and the rush of excitement. Michael's heart was still pounding, and he felt alive in a way he had never felt before.

But then he looked over at David and saw something in his eyes that he couldn't quite place. There was a hunger there.

David leaned in close, and Michael felt cloth rub along his cheek. "You're not afraid of anything, are you?" he whispered.

Michael shook his head, not trusting himself to speak while staring into that piercing gaze.

David's lips were on his in an instant, and Michael found himself lost in the sensation of their mouths meeting. He had never kissed a guy before, but with David, it felt right. Confusing, sure, but yet normal.

They broke apart, Michael panting and gasping for air as David grinned. He enjoyed seeing the other's face flush. All the while Michael felt a jolt of electricity run through his body.

"Let's do it again," David said, not really asking or demanding, and Michael eagerly complied. They spent the rest of the night kissing and exploring each other's bodies, lost in the rush of the moment. It didn't feel like time was moving at all.

As the sun was daring to rise soon, they climbed down from the rollercoaster, feeling exhilarated and alive. Michael knew that he had found something special in David, something that he couldn't quite put into words — let alone coherent thoughts. But he knew that he wanted to explore it further, to see where this newfound attraction would lead them.

[alicepao13]

So this had more of a teamwork feel than the last few episodes. It could belong in any season, really. Makes me feel that maybe starting the season the way they started it really was just bad scheduling.

If you want to know how bad CityTV is at scheduling, guy made a joke about the killer dressed in a superhero costume "like it's Halloween", and the episode aired a day after Halloween. So yeah. The only episode that shouldn’t have aired close to Halloween, aired on Halloween. Good job, CityTV.

Standard superhero/vigilante crime show episode with a twist. You can’t reinvent the wheel by following the same path others have made. But it’s okay, I don’t expect it from this show, or any formulaic crime show. I mean, you’d have to be an idiot at this point to expect that.

I keep seeing similarities between the Moonknight and the Night Keeper costumes. At least the Night Keeper costume is black.

I was hoping that Sarah had some kind of family story when she mentioned that she had experience with delusional disorder but of course it’s one of her multiple degrees.

The fact that Charlie and Sarah mentioned that they’d meet at dinner and then we didn’t see the dinner is A CRIME. But at least they remind us (in their own distant way) that they’re still together.

I’ll put a BOLO out for Charlie’s house, by the way. I’m hoping the reason it’s missing is because Charlie and Sarah are moving together in another house (now who has a delusional disorder, lol).

I was hoping for a comment about reboots. Come on, guys, you are a reboot yourselves.

As soon as the nephew pulled up with that car I knew he was the killer. Unsurprising.

Well, at least they put the murder weapon inside a cylindrical evidence tube. I'm saying that because I just watched a show where they put it inside a nylon evidence bag. In the year of 2023.

I love Verdi’s Dier Irae and its remixes. I have one in my playlist (mine is a 2WEI remix). Remixing classical music and mixing it with modern tunes is my jam. Although I kinda pity all those who will watch without headphones (which is probably most of the audience).

Damn, the house is great. And a secret compartment? Come on!

Jesse bragging about his skills. You go, Jesse.

Charlie sending Rex with Sarah like he won’t be the one to need him (I knew before I saw it, they like being predictable lol), because he wants her to be safe.

Thank you, killer, for tasing Charlie. It’s literally the only whump he’s had for ages. Bless you, kind killer.

By the way, I think Charlie has gotten too comfortable having a dog watch his six that now basically anyone can sneak up to him when he doesn't have Rex with him.

Charlie stumbling and trying to get up. Yes. I want more of that.

Googling how long it takes to get over an electric shock from a taser.

Okay, so it takes a few seconds. Maybe Charlie was a bit dramatic lol

Rex running because he knows his trouble magnet partner is in danger. I love it.

I was kinda hoping that Sarah would save him, but when you have Rex and the Night Keeper, eh, I wasn’t holding my breath.

“I've got my superpower right here” SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP oh my god this was so corny I loved it (this user is not immune to grown men being soft with dogs, it’s a very specific illness, non-curable).

I think they had like fifty team shots in this episode. It was like someone was annoyed by the lack of team screen time in the previous episodes and overcompensated. Also, do decide what the temperature is in the room. Some wore coats, and Sarah (who is always cold) wore a sleeveless shirt?

Overall, fun but unsurprising episode, in the tone of Hudson and Rex as a show. The level of enjoyment very much depends on whether someone cares at all about superheroes, in my opinion, because they got the characters and “actors” involved quite a bit. Easily rewatchable, more enjoyable than I thought (I audibly groaned when I saw the promo for this, mind you. CityTV call me, you need me). Plot loses cohesion in the third act but it’s okay because you’ll have figured out the killer way before that.

PS: It seriously helps to remember what the show is about. I’m talking to both the fandom and the writers here, but especially to the writers.

PPS: How many German shepherds next week? I’m assuming Diesel’s entire family are actors by now.

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Day 3: Broken Bones

(Disclaimer: only three of the characters in this story belong to me. You can find more information about K.O. here. For more information about Azalea, go here. For more information about Caliban, go here.  For my personal headcanons on Murdock, who belongs to the Markiplier Cinematic Universe, go here. And if you’d like to learn more about the mob these guys all work for, go here.)

(Note: as K.O. is multilingual, some of his dialogue in this story is Italian, which I personally used DeepL for. Pay the site a visit if you’d like to translate that dialogue for yourself. As of right now I can only speak English and a bit of Spanish, so I do apologize if the phrasing is a bit off, but this still seems much better than Google Translate.)

(Trigger Warnings: mentions of gunshots, physical violence, blood, broken bones, descriptions of illegal business, slight mentions drinking/eating, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1 Day 2 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13

There was no doubting that The Pentas Family had a reputation; a well-earned reputation. And while that commanded both respect and fear from anyone with good sense. . .it could also encourage extremely idiotic attempts at stripe-earning. 

Kaiser had done plenty of stupid things in his life. Pledging himself to a mob wasn’t one of them, thank you very much, but ever underestimating an adrenaline rush definitely was.

Aftertaste was a fair distance from The WormRoll; the same obviously went for Azalea and Kaiser’s respective dens. He’d been sprinting along the old railways for nearly ten minutes now, but by some miracle, he didn’t feel winded. 

Sure, his heart was hammering against his ribcage, more or less threatening to explode out of his chest at any given second. And yet, somehow, his head wasn’t throbbing, his jaw wasn’t aching, his lungs didn’t feel like they were on fire. He didn’t have to chant Just a little further between each breath.

The flickering caged lights that had been installed every ten feet were eager to distort his shadow as he passed them by. (It never failed to amaze him how The Boss had managed to siphon electricity back into the subway tunnels without alerting any of the local companies.) 

One might’ve been a bit reluctant to leave Azalea alone. Which was fair, considering exactly what had happened almost an hour ago. Plus, as of right now, there was no way to be sure of A. who had ordered the attack. B. why they’d done so in the first place, and C. if they’d sent more people than just that one gunman. . .

Then again, progress had already been made. And progress would keep being made.

Besides, Kaiser knew better. For one thing, he’d already patched up her latest injury, which certainly wasn’t a fatal one. For another thing, the entrances to these tunnels were well-hidden, hard to get to without specific information. For a final thing, Azalea had been part of these operations longer than him. She was cunning, slippery, determined. 

. . .She’d also been loading a fuck-off tranquilizer gun with darts that would probably do more than just knock their targets out when K.O. got the text from Murdock.

So, yeah, Azalea could take care of herself just fine.

Besides, Kaiser would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited. 

He was going to get to lead the impending interrogation, after all. 

This wasn’t the first time, of course. He’d been a Pentas representative for years now; violence was just part of his career, and things would’ve been pretty damn awkward if he hadn’t made his peace with that by now. The people he worked with were unhinged enough to make honey badgers look like capybaras, and they’d done so, so, so much more than enough to earn his loyalty. 

Murdock and Caliban could’ve absolutely gone through with information-extracting without him. . .but they’d chosen not to. They wanted to include him. They wanted him to have some of the credit for neutralizing a threat. 

It was touching. In a dark, fucked-up way. 

Kaiser rounded the corner, narrowly avoiding tripping as he hopped onto the platform that came into view. He finally skidded to a stop in front of the steel door, fishing his special key out of his drawstring backpack—the makeshift first aid kit that he took almost everywhere. 

His breathing was heavy and ragged as he closed the door from the other side. He strolled across the room to have a seat, retrieving a water bottle from his bag, raising it up and taking several gulps. His pulse still rang in his ears, but he’d be fine. It would take a lot more than a last-minute jogging session to put him out of commission. 

His phone was in his hand the second he stopped drinking. 

You guys up there yet? He typed. I’m ready to go.

We’re just pulling in around the back, Murdock replied after a moment or two. He was quick to add,  This asshole’s stubborn, so give him the special treatment. 

Gotcha! I’ll say hi to Francis and J.P. for you ;D

Can’t believe you’re still sticking to THOSE names.

Yep. Nothing you can do about it. Kaiser chuckled as he sent that last message, thinking of Murdock’s patented sigh and eye-roll. 

He set his phone down, then got to his feet to finish preparing. 

His den seemed a bit sparse at first, but that was only because of the way he’d organized his stuff. Three corners were taken up by a punching bag, an incline bench, and an elliptical. One wall was nearly hidden behind a weight rack and the storage cabinet he was now rummaging through. There was a decent amount of space between all the equipment, leaving the center of the abandoned office open, offering enough room to pace around. . . 

Kaiser couldn’t help it: the arena was, ironically enough, something of a safe-space to him. It was one of few places where he could truly be himself, let his emotions out, earn his keep. (He knew he already had an actual arena upstairs, but it was only an arena at night, after the rink’s customers had to leave and all those roller skates were cleaned and stocked away.)

Kaiser wasn’t much of a jewelry person. He could see the appeal, but in this line of work, shiny little ornaments pretty much always found ways to be inconvenient. The small silver hoop adorning his left earlobe was the first of two exceptions, but only because it was sentimental. Besides, he’d gotten dangerously close to finding out that it probably wouldn’t budge before his ear did. (And that incident had taken place before he’d found his new family.) Kaiser shuddered at the memory, his skin crawling as he carefully took the hoop out and packed it into a little box.

The second exception was rings. Two sets of four that were connected by a solid band of brass, to be specific. Francis—who was best friends with leftie—and J.P.—who was carrying on a nice little affair with rightie—caught the light as Kaiser turned each of them over. They had sentimental value as well. Just a different kind. 

The silence was broken by the telltale sound of a door creaking open, followed by a chorus of grunts and yelps and expletives. Kaiser turned his head just in time to see an unfamiliar figure descending the old concrete staircase in a very ungraceful manner, landing on his face just five feet away. 

“Candygram for one K.O.!” Called a familiar baritone voice. 

Kaiser took a few steps closer, looking up to see Murdock hovering at the top of the stairs. He caught flashes of dark blue darting here and there behind the hitman; that had to be Caliban, who was probably pacing the floor of the rink’s locker room.

“Cal and I have some stuff to go over. It should only take five minutes or so,” Murdock explained. He titled his head, quirking the brow of his left eye. Even after all the time Kaiser had spent working with him, it was still odd to see Murdock wearing his medical eyepatch rather than his tinted glasses. But in his defense, this venture had kinda-sorta been randomly sprung on them. “We’ll check on you two after that. Sound good?”

Kaiser made a little show of cracking his knuckles, sliding J.P. and Francis onto his hands and giving them each a chaste kiss. He offered a grin and thumbs-up to his colleague. It was always nice to hear someone using his nickname. “Sounds awesome!”

Murdock nodded, smirking. “Have fun.” He then stepped back and pushed the hidden door shut with a loud click. 

Kaiser stared up for a few more seconds, then took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders as his gaze landed on his new target. 

The new target glared back, huffing and puffing as he floundered on the floor. 

Admittedly, he hadn’t gotten a clear look at this guy earlier, what with having to duck and cover and the crowd around him becoming a blur as people ran and screamed in response to those six sharp, booming CRACKS that had rung through the air. 

Then again, he hadn’t needed to. Mob life may have been depraved and dangerous, but it still had plenty of perks to make up for that. Such as, for example, the way it took your instincts and made them faster, tougher, deadlier. 

A quick glance at this person’s watery, mud-colored eyes was all it took for Kaiser to know for an absolute certainty that he’d been the one to try playing around with him and his peers. 

Plus, the fact that the gunman’s eyes were visible meant he wasn’t wearing one of the hostage masks (burlap sacks adorned by strips of duct tape to make a frowny-face with Xs for eyes) Kaiser had seen Murdock and the others use before.

And that meant he would NEVER get a chance to describe anything he’d soon be seeing to someone else. 

“Well,” Kaiser announced conversationally. He started circling the gunman, quickly spotting the thick strip of red nylon encircling his wrists behind his back. “I think you already know how this’ll work.”

“Fuck off!” The gunman snarled, shakily worming his way to stand on his knees. “I’m not talking. Especially not to some idiot kid who’s gonna get himself killed next week.” 

Kaiser narrowed his eyes. “Funny how a man-baby like you is trying to call me a kid.”

He had the basic courtesy to let the gunman get to his feet, to reveal how he stood a good few inches taller. Not like that mattered, though. Kaiser had taken on plenty of larger opponents before. 

“Whatever you think is gonna happen next week, it won’t,” Kaiser stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “And it’s already way too late for you to change that, even if you do talk.”

The gunman made to spew something else, but Francis helped Kaiser interject. The first strike landed on one side of the gunman’s chest, prompting something to go snap! behind his shirt. A millisecond afterwards, J.P. crashed against the gunman’s cheek, leaving some fresh, angry imprints to bloom on his skin. The gunman staggered back with a shout, but he didn’t fall.

“Who do you work for?” Kaiser inquired (hey, that rhymed!). “They must’ve been pretty damn persuasive. Or maybe you’re just pretty damn gullible. Though I guess both could work.”

The gunman shook his head, sputtering a laugh as he spat out a wad of blood. “If you really want to know, they paid me a lot more than you probably make in a week. More than what you think you deserve.”

“Considering how you only got one nonfatal shot out of six, I call bullshit,” Kaiser growled.

He marched forward to deck the gunman once, twice square in the nose. The third hit landed solidly against the gunman’s lower lip. Blood sprayed out around Kaiser’s fist with each impact, quickly soaking Francis in red. Meanwhile, Kaiser buried J.P. right below the gunman’s sternum, which definitely paved the way for another fracture to open up under his skin.

The gunman roared, suddenly craning his neck to slam his forehead against Kaiser’s. 

Kaiser hollered in pain, but he was still far from disoriented. He took the opportunity to reach around and deliver a rabbit punch. He didn’t have enough time to do as much damage as possible, but the back of the head was still one of the worst pain-points the human body had to offer. 

Kaiser stepped to the side, snatched the gunman’s collar and dragged him down to the floor, only letting go in order to give him a couple harsh kicks to the gut. “Answer me! Who the hell sent you, and what’s their fucking damage?!”

The gunman rolled onto his back, swinging his legs to try and knock Kaiser down. Kaiser huffed a sigh, rolling his eyes as he stomped on the offending foot. Another cry tore its way through the gunman’s throat as he was forced to go still. Both he and Kaiser panted like dogs for about twenty seconds or so. 

And then. . .

“Y’know, I can’t tell why this band of misfits gives off the vibe that it does,” the gunman slurred, his head lolling to the side. “I mean, look at you. The only reason you can do this to me is ‘cause those two freaks bound my hands. And you must think you’re so goddamn special, when any untrained bitch can throw a punch if they’ve got some knuckle dusters.”

Kaiser froze, feeling his eyes widen. 

Oh. OH.

The gunman wanted to go on that route?

Alright, then.

They would go on that fucking route.

A low, manic chuckle bubbled up through Kaiser’s lips. 

“Oh. . .these little friends of mine?” He asked, holding up his hands to let Francis and J.P. glint against the light in all their shiny, bloody glory. He shook his head. “No, no. I didn’t just pick them up before I joined the family. They were given to me. As rewards. After I proved what I could do and took the time to get even better at it.”

As he spoke, Kaiser slid the brass knuckles off, one after the other. He held them near eye-level for a moment, giving them a look that was typically reserved for a charming pet, before setting them off to the side on the floor.

“Don’t get me wrong, they’re a lot of fun to have around!” Kaiser continued. The gunman’s foot was still trapped under his own. He used that to his leverage, holding the gunman in place as he leaned down. “But I don’t depend on them. I’ve fought dozens and dozens of people in recent years, and I never needed to use my babies in any of those matches.” 

Kaiser grinned as he flexed his fingers, practically feeling how his eyes drilled into the gunman’s. That grin grew wider as he hauled off and clocked the gunman with a good ol’ fashioned right-hook. 

“See, that’s what makes my special guys special! They only make appearances when I decide that my opponent DESERVES IT.” A sardonic laugh ripped through the air as Kaiser felt a tidal wave of new energy come crashing through him. “You don’t have any damn room to talk about shit being fair!”

He pulled his right hand back, then dished out a classic left-hook. 

“You pulled out a fucking gun in public! During the annual art festival, of all things!”

Another right hook.

“You shot six rounds into a crowd full of people who had nothing to do with whatever the fuck you think you need to prove!” 

Another left-hook.

“You shot at members of my family when our backs were turned to you!”

More blood gushing out.

“There was nothing honorable about what you did today!”

More fleshy pops and cracks. 

Time seemed to slow down as he kept at it. For a brief moment, his voice seemed to blur, as did the agonized noises that the gunman was making. Before he knew it, Kaiser’s vision grew somewhat hazy. So, he instinctively paused, blinking. 

He discovered that he was standing upright again, still keeping the gunman’s foot pinned. By now, the gunman’s eyes were almost swollen shut. His face was covered in splotches of black, blue and purple. . .or, Kaiser knew from experience that it was, at least. The new bruises were well-hidden by all the blood dribbling down to create a small puddle on the floor. As Kaiser stared at the red, he realized with a note of pride that a couple teeth had landed there, too. 

Despite all of this, the gunman was still attempting to kick Kaiser. Not too surprising, really. People were just as resilient as they were fragile. Kaiser knew that better than anyone.

But he also knew that being persistent didn’t outweigh being pathetic. 

He also-also understood the importance of a good finale. 

Kaiser shifted in place to stand by the gunman’s side. He took a second to hype himself up a bit more. . .then raised his free leg and stamped down on the gunman’s knee as hard as he possibly could. 

The bony cap inside crumpled under Kaiser’s weight.

The sickening CRUNCH it made wasn’t drowned out by the gunman’s shriek.

“What you did today was just chicken shit,” Kaiser proclaimed as he finally stepped back. 

As if on cue, Murdock’s voice piped up from across the den: “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Kaiser turned to see the hitman in question standing at the foot of the stairs, with Caliban lurking beside him. He met the duo halfway as they slithered over. 

“Did you get anything out of him?” Murdock wondered aloud.

“It looks like something might be happening next week,” Kaiser reported, wiping his hand on his pants before running it through his side-swept bangs (the blood would certainly be less noticeable against amaranth denim than bleached-white hair, after all). “I couldn’t tell if he was just talking out of his ass, but we might as well stay on our toes.”

Murdock nodded. “Good, good. Anything else?” 

“. . .Not really,” Kaiser sighed, shaking his head. He folded his arms across his chest at the way Murdock pursed his lips. “Hey, I was trying to, but he threw me off track!” He glanced back down at the gunman and spat, “Stupido stronzo del cazzo.”

Confusion flickered on Murdock’s face at the string of Italian, but the mask of overexaggerated disappointment stayed strong. “You’ve made tons of jackasses sing before. What could possibly be so different about this one?”

“I’m not sure!" Kaiser responded, placing his hands on his hips. “If I had a little more time with him, then I bet I could get more information.” 

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but we don’t have extra time! That’s kind of the thing about last-minute-emergency-jobs!” Murdock snapped, marching a few paces closer. 

Kaiser tilted his head, raised an eyebrow, refusing to budge from where he stood. He’d adjusted to aggressive body language way more than what would probably be considered healthy. He knew Murdock wasn’t about to try anything with him. It would’ve been impossible not to notice the adrenaline in his features.

Glancing past Murdock, Kaiser saw Caliban, who was being uncharacteristically quiet as he glared daggers at the crumpled heap of failed assassin. There was almost always something a little strange in his eyes, but he was typically personable enough to draw attention away from that. But right here, right now, his expression was vicious. 

Not like Caliban could really be blamed for that, of course. 

Kaiser felt his own face soften a little. Then, he briskly shook his head, recognizing the sensation of a lightbulb manifesting in there.

What had happened a few hours ago was absolutely horrible. Yes, the main issue was being dealt with, but Murdock was right: neither he nor his accomplices could be sure how much time was actually on their hands right now. Everyone needed to keep moving.

. . .But the movement in question wouldn’t be very efficient if this new paranoia was just left to fester. . .

“You can’t say I didn’t get something done here. I know my business!” Kaiser pointed to the crimson smears that just screamed performance art. “What’s that on the floor? Blood! What’re those little things in the blood? A couple teeth, thank you very much! And last but not least, what’s—ah, the—” He briefly stammered before his focus landed on the way Caliban’s shadow fell over both the floor and the gunman. 

“—That’s a cannibal! And the one below him is a target!” Kaiser’s hands were a blur as he gestured toward Caliban and the gunman. “A cannibal and a target! What’s that called? DINNER. What—” he sputtered with sardonic laughter as he paced in a small, quick circle. “In what world do we live in where targets like this can peacefully coexist with our family?! It’s not going to happen!”

Kaiser sidled over to stand behind Murdock with just a bit less grace than usual, leaning from side to side to peer over his colleague’s shoulders. “Cal’s hungry! He’s hungry, Murdock! It’s like he hasn’t seen a FEAST in a FORTNIGHT! He’s licking his lips!” Once he decided he had to pause for breath, Kaiser glanced at the other two mobsters in turn. 

Murdock usually prided himself on being skilled with improvisation. Right here, right now, the evidence of just how violently he’d been thrown out of the loop was all over his face. (It was always fun to see someone who was usually amused at the expense of others falling into that very role himself.)

Caliban, meanwhile. . .well, there was still plenty of understandable anger in his features, but his more typical curiosity had wormed its way into his eyes as he stared back, clearly not sure what Kaiser was on about. 

Uncertain smiles were twitching on both of their faces. 

That was good. That was part of what Kaiser was after. He just needed to go a bit further. 

So, he practically skipped past Murdock and came to loom over the gunman, standing opposite of Caliban. “This target has gotta be afraid for his life! I bet he wishes he had an actual chance to get away! I don’t know what he’s trying to do!”

Kaiser leaned down, grabbed the gunman by the collar, and hauled him halfway up. The gunman struggled, of course, but he was way too battered to do much at all. “If he hadn’t fucked around in our territory, then I might fear for his safety! But I DON’T, because it’s his OWN STUPID FAULT that he ended up in an unsafe place!” 

With that, he hauled back, letting go of the gunman’s bloodstained shirt at the exact second the back of Kaiser’s free hand collided with his face. Yet another dull thud and yet another cry of pain were accentuated by familiar snickering from the other two members of Kaiser’s audience. 

There. 

Kaiser knew his work wasn’t completely done yet, but that could count as his good deed for the day. 

“. . .Alright, then.” Murdock announced. “I guess you’ve made your case.”  

“Damn right I have,” Kaiser agreed with a proud smirk. As he let himself relax, he finally remembered how his hands were throbbing and tingling. The ache wasn’t necessarily a bad one, though. He chewed his lips, then glanced back at Caliban. “Ah, sorry, Cal.”

Caliban blinked at this. “What’re you sorry about? You did exactly as we asked. Plus, that little show was certainly something.”  

“Yeah, but. . .now that I think about it, I probably roughed him up too much for you.” Kaiser nodded over to Francis and J.P., then toward the gunman, implying all the bruises that were most certainly forming beneath the gunman’s clothes. 

Caliban followed his gaze, quiet for another few seconds. Then, he let out a small chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiment, K.O. But really, don’t worry about it. Tough meats aren’t impossible to work around. That’s what the crockpot is for.” 

Kaiser felt his expression brighten back up as he nodded, chuckling a little himself. 

It seemed like mere minutes had passed since he’d heard Caliban scream Azalea’s name, since he’d watched a dark red stain start spreading through the white fabric of her button-down, since he’d followed the two siblings when they disappeared into Aftertaste’s back entrance.

The restaurant’s kitchen was dark, but that hadn’t slowed them down. Azalea was already sitting on one of the many stainless-steel countertops with her sleeve rolled up to expose the wound. She hissed as Caliban used a washcloth to scrub the blood away.

Both of them nearly leapt a foot in the air at the sound of the back door creaking open and closed again. Like clockwork, Caliban’s cleaver was halfway out of his jacket’s interior pocket. 

“W-whoa, hey! It’s just me!” Kaiser called out as he raced over to Azalea. He slammed his drawstring backpack down beside her, pulling it open to ferret out a first-aid kit. “Hold your arm out, Aza! Keep the wound above your heart!” 

“Are you okay?” Azalea asked, her voice labored as she obeyed his instructions. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Kaiser answered, his breathing equally ragged. He plucked a roll of gauze from the kit, as well as a few small bottles. After donning a pair of latex gloves, he took hold of Azalea’s wrist, carefully unwinding the bloody hand towel. 

“Where’s Murdock?” Caliban demanded. “Did he get hit, too?” 

Kaiser shook his head. “No, but he must’ve seen the gunman. He took off across the street after the last shot.” 

Azalea nodded, squeezing her eyes shut and baring her teeth.  

“Wait, hold on—” Kaiser turned Azalea’s arm in his hands. Relief flickered on his features. “Okay, okay! Good news: there’s nothing in your arm! The bullet just grazed you!” 

“. . .She’s still been shot at!” Caliban exclaimed. “Are you not seeing all this blood? How the hell is a grazing supposed to be good news?!”

“Because it means Aza won’t have to wait for signs of lead poisoning before we can weigh the options of removing a goddamn bullet!” Kaiser snapped back, though his nervousness was just as obvious as his stress. 

Betrayal may not have been tolerated in The Pentas Family, but a furious cannibal still wasn’t something anyone would necessarily want to be within five feet of.

Azalea gave her brother a stern look. “He’s just trying to help!”

Caliban flinched, blinking, grinding his jaw. “I know, I know! I-I’m sorry, I just—” 

He cut himself off in favor of placing a hand on Azalea’s left shoulder, bowing his head as his eyes started to sting. The conflict he felt between wanting to embrace her and knowing that he couldn’t unless he wanted to risk making her injury worse was crystal-clear. 

Azalea’s face softened. She gingerly raised her uninjured arm, reaching around her brother in order to draw circles on his back. 

Caliban glanced at Kaiser. His anger and fear were still very much present, but somehow, his expression managed to be apologetic. 

Kaiser tipped his head in understanding. “. . .You guys are one step ahead of me,” he continued. “Look, the bleeding’s already slowed down! It won’t take much time for me to stop it. The graze just needs to be cleaned and bandaged.” He then pressed the hand towel back against Azalea’s skin.

“Cal,” Azalea announced, her voice firm in spite of her pain, “you need to go find Murdock.” At the way her brother sharply raised his head, she attempted to laugh. “Oh, c’mon. I’ve had papercuts worse than this. You heard K.O.; I’ll be fine!”

“She will be,” Kaiser promised, nodding earnestly, “and she’s got a point. We have no idea what Murdock’s running into, so he might as well have some backup.”

All this time, Murdock had been fiddling with a rectangular object. Aforementioned object became a small blur as he lightly tossed it in the fighter’s direction. 

Kaiser just barely managed to catch it, soon realizing that it was a cellphone. 

“It’s already been combed through,” Murdock explained, “but running it over to the base wouldn’t hurt.” 

“What about him?” Kaiser asked, jerking his thumb toward the bloodied man on the floor.

“It’s over, that’s what about him,” Murdock snorted, firmly ignoring the questionable grammar. “I’ve already sent for some of the others to clean out the motel room he’s apparently been staying at. Cal and I can take it from here.” He paced around the gunman, pausing to stomp on his chest. “He’ll have one more chance to talk with us. No offense, but we’ve got a few more methods than you do.”

“Terapia di coppettazione orribile,” Kaiser predicted with a nod.

Murdock froze, slowly turned his head to face Kaiser again. “. . .What?”

Kaiser offered a cheeky lame gesture. “You tell me.”

Murdock shook his head, uncharacteristically bewildered. “No, seriously. What did you just say?”

“Palle,” Kaiser quipped, his smile now reaching glorious heights of shit-eatingness.

Murdock’s face fell into a tired scowl. “Very funny, asshole.”

“‘Molto divertente, stronzo,’” Kaiser technically echoed. “Se vuoi capirlo così tanto, dovresti studiarlo tu stesso.”

If Caliban hadn’t been there, then this probably would’ve gone on for another moment or two before devolving into a small fistfight. Since Caliban was indeed there, he made a point to clear his throat before either of his accomplices could get louder. 

“I don’t think the cleanup crew has been very busy this week,” Murdock mentioned as Caliban helped partially hoist the gunman. The two of them half-carried-half-dragged him over to the den’s door. 

Kaiser glanced at the bloody puddle on the floor. After a few seconds of consideration, he shook his head. “Nah, this isn’t a big enough mess to drag them down here. There should be enough stuff in the rink’s broom closet for me to use.”

Murdock shrugged. “Fair enough. Just head over to the base once you’re done, alright?” 

Kaiser hummed affirmative, already heading for the staircase. At the sound of the den’s metal door creaking open, he paused to glance over his shoulder. The gunman was still wheezing, trying and failing to squirm. He made eye-contact with Kaiser one last time, glowering as he spat out yet another wad of red. 

In return, Kaiser simply smiled and waved, hoping he could send a silent message about how much worse things were about to get.

That smile stayed on his face as he resumed walking, as he listened to the door swing shut with a final-sounding SLAM.

@sammys-magical-au @neons-trash-blog-deactivated202

[kimaratomoya]

You said yesterday that you were interested in a fanfic idea I had? Well here it is.

It's about a pair of fangirls going into freddy fazbear's pizzeria and deciding to stay the night there for shits n giggles. But it's a deconstruction of several things, such as wanting to get isekai'ed into the media of your choice, the fact that I kept wanting this despite the fact that teenage me would have made a terribly dysfunctional protagonist, the way how fandom seems to fill out every gap that canon lacks, but causes the place to be confusing as if reality overlaps, as somewhat of a side effect.

It was because when I was 13 and talking with my friends online, we used to get a kick out of pretending Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria was a real place, we'd be looking up vandalised google maps places and joking about going there. The fanfiction is similar, but it's also a deconstruction of the idea because FNAF in real life would be Very Dangerous regardless of if you're 20 or 12, or a fangirl or not. And it's also about how the real world would react to the haunted animatronics, I think there might just be two entries in the series but I'll focus on the first one for now.

It takes place in around 2016 or so when FNAF had less content, and had much more of an 'urban legend' aesthetic to it than it does now. If I am ever to write this fanfiction however, I think I'll need to change that. However this goes in contrast with the 'urban legend' aesthetic I had in mind, so I'll either find a workaround or I'll just not make it about FNAF in general. The main point is to deconstruct this adventurous tangent I had in mind and demonstrate how actually fucked someone in the situation would be in, regardless of how much they know about the lore.

The names of the two girls are Áine (awn-yah) and Jene. One of them values enjoyment over personal safety, and the other is an insecure liar. Áine's the one who suggests exploring the places where the children were killed staying the night when Jene wants to look around and then leave, and Jene, while having a higher sense of self preservation, compulsively lies to Áine and other characters to try and keep them safe. The conflict is about them keeping safe from the animatronics of course, but also to work together even though they eventually end up fighting a lot and Áine starts to slowly transform into her self insert OC and lose her memories. Jene's quick lying ability comes in handy as she is able to write Áine's self insert's backstory even closer to Áine's actual memories, and preserve them quicker.

There's also a plot about how the fuck the pizzeria even came into being in the first place, because most stories where fans are transported into the medium of what they're fans of don't tend to dive into this.

In the beginning, Áine says she wants to invite whoever is the night guard over to her house so they're safe from animatronics, and Jene suggests spending more time with them to determine whether or not they're Purple Guy first. This is foreshadowing towards the end where they crash, fictional characters and all, at Áine's house and Áine's mom is like WTF. It also sets up the sequel since Áine has irreversibly been touched by whatever forces have been at play in the pizzeria, she needs to stay close to it or she might vanish from existence entirely. Áine's mom can't have her daughter staying so close to something so dangerous, so she becomes the manager and strives to make the place safer. She does things such as putting the animatronics in giant hamster wheels the whole night so even though they can free roam, there's no way for them to harm people, and installing an emergency escape door for the night guard and also doors that don't use electricity.

That's some of what I have for now. Also since FNAF has so many continuities, part of the early plot is Áine and Jene trying to figure out which one they're in. The books? The movie? The games? Some fan artist's AU? Someone's fan fiction? They learn kind of later in that it's Áine's own AU which she never fully developed and based it off a bunch of other works.

Should I continue?

Bestie

Write this please, I'd 100% read it. Sounds like something that genuinely could be in the books (with some of the weird shit that happens in them *cough cough* the fucking mpreg one *cough cough*).

Genuinely, go for writing it. I kinda am torn about hearing more, because I don't want you to spoil it tbh.

[lunarifie]

Rewatching Ninjago

(With no context other than the episode)

Hands of Time 1-2

Ah yes, a Wu-doesnt-tell-them-shit season

Oh wait!

Thats every season.

COLES HUMAN AGAIN????

HES NOT A GHOST?!?!?!?

WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN

Why does ninjago give us such little context clues. First ronin now this??!?!?

Okay, did some google searching. And the whole goddamn movie Day of the Departed isn’t on Netflix?!?!?!?!

Brb gonna watch it.

For anyone who doesnt have Tubi or amazon: wcofun.net has Day of the Departed

Alright we’re back, I understand whats going on now.

Nya: If I could go back in time, Id tell Mr Saunder we wouldn’t be able to help with the museum…

Zane: Remember Nya, we went back in time once. Things like that aren’t to be taken lightly

Nya: Its a form of expression Zane 🙄

Fjsnfjdirnfjd such subtle foreshadowing

Nya and Kai immediately retelling the story of their parents after they see a portrait, to remind the audience, is hilarious to me

Mr Saunder, museum guy: Refreshing time! hot sweaty work deserves a cool drink!

Kai: Thanks!

Mr Saunders: Enjoy the pickled beet tea!

Nya, Kai, and Lloyd: (Spit it out coughing)

Cole: …

Cole (drops the cup): Oops…! New hands! So clumsy…

Jay: (shrugs and chugs it)

Wait

Waitwaitwaitwait

Ik who Mr Saunders is IK WHO MR SAUNDERS IS

god I just know im gonna be so confused this season. I never deal with time travel shows well.

Ronin and Dareth are helping Misako carry boxes to the new temple 🥺

Dareth and Ronin gossiping and getting impressed over Nyas samurai X suit is so cute

Dareth (wearing the helmet): look out world! Heres comes Samurai D!!!

Misako and Ronin: …

Dareth: What?

Dareth: …

Dareth: The D is for Dareth.

I wish Wu would fight more, hes genuinely good at it

Misako: Dareth please take that off.

Ronin: Allow- (Weird timey thing happens) me…

Ronin: When did I get on top of Dareth… 🤨

Time went forwards FOR A MINUTE?!?!

Misako: its like deja vu but in reverse…

Thats actually a great way to explain it

Jay freaking out over the loud beeping alarm when it doesn’t seem to affect anyone else is the autistic experience.

Zane: Hmmm… this is surprising.

Jay: No, no its not! Ive always had sensitive ears and—

Zane: I meant-

HES AUTISTIC YOUR HONOR

Jay: Oh! temporal energy, of course, EVERYONE knows thats, uh… powerful!

Kai: You, have no idea what temporal means, do you?

Jay:…

Jay: I do not.

HFBSJBFJSBR

Acronix: Control time, control everything…

I mean hes not wrong

Jay just wants to go home 😭

Jay: UGHHHH theres no one at the old monastery! Zanes probably malfunctioning.

Zane:…

Zane: Self diagnostic says negative

Jay (smacks zane over the head): How about now 😁

Zane: No. 🤨

Jay, after complaining and begging them all to go home: WELL WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??!?!? TO THE OLD MONASTERY!

Wu: I- I made a mistake…

Wu why are you so shocked you make a LOT of mistakes

Lloyd: Jay! What are you doing!

Jay (jumps off destineys bounty): HEY! Hey you! Im looking for someone! Spinjitzu master, this tall, long beard, goes by the name Wu?

Acronix: Cant say ive seen him.

Jay: hm! Thats odd… cause judging by all the slash marks here! I think you have.

That was such good line delivery

The way he way his voice was exaggeratedly high and happy and then his last sentence went down a notch and he brought out his nunchucks.

This is why hes my favorite character

Its nice that Cole has faith in Jay

Too bad hes gonna watch Jay get fucking wiped

Nya (after getting totaled): sometimes I wish I was still samurai x instead of a ninja…

God it hurts so much to be reminded that Nya never truly wanted to be a ninja

Jay: Wait! Who put you in charge! Why cant I help put out the flames?

JAY… BUDDY…

Lloyd: You really think electricity is gonna stop fire?

Jay:…

Jay: good point.

Jay your better than this 😭

Actually. On second thought. Your really not.

Jay (talking about the monastery): burned down again… man this place just cant catch a break can it.

TRUE.

COLE SAVED WU!!!!

Cole. Why are you grabbing him with your lava hands.

Wu: There is so much to tell you…

Yeah no shit.

Misako and Wu: (flirting as she pours him healing tea)

The ninja: 😐

All the ninja: (rapidly asking questions)

Jay: Who ate my pudding cup?!?!?

Everyone:…

Jay: What?… he said we could ask any questions!

Nya and Kais parents cheek bones are high and regal as fuck. Like damn.

Why does EVERY villain feel like theyre entitled in ruling ninjago

Do you know how HARD that is????

To rule a fucking country?!?!?!

Honestly. Yes. The time power Is the most powerful element. But they arent entitled to everything because of it 🤨🤨🤨

I NEED Acronixs hair right now.

God their dynamic is so funny. Can you imagine your biological twin being 40 years older than you 😭😭😭

How did Krux live 40 years in disguise and solitude and not gain the wisdom that came with age. Like my guy did not contemplate his existence AT ALL.

I dont remember but does newer ninjago episodes remove Lloyds rectangle mouth and Wus vacant yellow one?

Please tell me they do.

I NEEEEED a spin off series of Wus and Garmadons early adventures

…

Do they seriously think they actually defeated Acronix. Did it not cross their minds ONCE that he escaped?????

AAAWWWW jay and Nya are so cute now :)

Jays such a flirt he loves her sm 😭

HFNSJBFJD KAI.

Kai (walking in on jay and Nya about to kiss): hey guys- WOAH SORRY TO INTERRUPT IDIDNTSEEANYTHING (covers his eyes)

Kai: Theres something you need to see! (Turns around with his eyes covered and slams into a wall)

I love Kai sm 🥰

Cyrus borg is so great :))))

Zane: if we want to decide who gets to stop this new samurai, i suggest we assign each of ourselves a digit, then manually engage in a cube with graphical representation of each number, go make a random, unbiased selection.

Everyone:

Zane: Roll dice.

HFNDJTBDJFNBR

Zane can just be so funny for literally no reason 😭😭😭

Gayle gossip (news woman): Ive never seen this much destruction before! Well- i mean, i have. But its been a while! And you never really get used to it….

Just another day in ninjago 🙃

Snakes.

Theyre using snakes.

AGAIN.

WHY.

IM SO TIRED OF THESE FUCKING SNAKES USE SOMETHING ELSE GODDAMMIT

Acronix and Krux are true sibling representation.

Kai: Okay! I dont wanna braaag, but the other day I stopped an elemental master of TIME. So i think I can handle a lousy samurai-

Kai: (Gets fucking totaled)

Cole: (uses his lava earth punch thing)

(Samurai Snakes fall apart)

Jay: YOU DISINTEGRATED HIM?!?!?!?

Cole: IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!!!!!!

Okay but WHERE did Krux find these snakes.

Zane helping out Pixals dad (cyrus borg) is actually so sweet

Awwww I remember this part

Water and electricity stop them!!!!!

WAIT WHAT NO WHAT HAPPENED TO ZANE

Krux: I already have my best blacksmiths on making more armor.

No. It is NOT who I think it is.

Istg they better not have imprisoned Nya and Kais parents.