#like yeah yeah the city council are kind of my only hope for not being homeless but also. they're shit LMAO.

[unsettlingcreature]

ok I know everyone complains emails but there is no greater joy in my life than emailing somewhere that's been like "hey >:( why haven't you done this >:(" and being able to be like "oh actually, I called up ^_^ turns out that I couldn't do it because you fucked up! that's ok, I've gone out of my way to remedy this problem. let me know if there's anything else I can do to help in future!" it's cathartic. after they've fucked me over so much already? yeah. it feels great.

[goldsbitch]

Hi🥹 cam I just say that I love your writing?

Would you be able to write something with Lando or oscar (his sister) of him/ them surprising her for her birthday? Possibly she likes christmas a lot so a christmas in July with lots of christmas deco.

It's my birthday soon and I don't really have anybody to celebrate with which is fine but I still wanted to ask

Xx

this is by far one of the sweetest asks I've ever read - sorry for taking such a long time! i got sick and the mind was just too cloudy

i do hope you'll like this. i've finished it just after the race, so it's not as fluffy as i intended this to be. hopefully we'll recover from that soon

anyway - happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Christmas in July

2 days before Hungarian Grand Prix 2024 and Y/N birthday

"What brings her joy?" Lando asked as if he spoke of some impossible philosophical dilema. The only thing missing was a big white board for him to stare at. It was sometimes hard to decipher when he was joking and when he was being serious. But Oscar knew one thing - this guy would rather gather up a crowd before sorting out something on his own. He had currently set up a "war council" as he called it not-so-dramatically in order to figure a way how to approach the his sister's birthday. Among others present was his teammate.

Oscar had a dilema of his own, sitting there on a chair with few other people present on this strange meeting Lando held in his hotel room. While his teammate was trying to figure out how to cheer up his sister, who was suppose to be spending her birthday with her best friend in Budapest during their Grand Prix, Oscar was trying his best not to raise any suspicion. Nobody here knew it was nearly impossible to count the nights he had spend secretly texting with Lando's sister. It was innocent. Just two friends wishing each other good night every other day. Definitely not crossing the line at all.

Lando did not share details as to why he was suddenly putting himself in charge or his sister's birthday with the group. She had a whole thing planned with her best friend for Hungarian summer race weekend. Not even Lando had that many details about their falling out as Oscar had.

In a way, he was glad that Lando took this initiative and he could hide behind him, making sure her brother did not cross the line or got too carried away. And ensure that Y/N had the birthday she deserved. A girl probably too sweet for their world anyway. Once again, Oscar had to stop himself before he lost his thoughts completely. She was just a friend. His teammate's sister. Nothing more.

Ugh.

//

Sun kissed people smiling in streets older than time itself. Ancient glory still piercing through the cobblestones and some kind of magic the locals put to the water here, making it all dreamy and mystic.

Yeah, that's all great and amazing - unless you're there alone, bored and mad at everyone. Even the bloody sun was too much these days. And coffee too bitter this time.

Y/N was people-watching, while she enjoyed her scenery coffee alone. Every group of friends walking by and enjoying their summer felt like a personal attack. Somehow, every happy couple in the surrounding area must have decided to take a stroll around the city and her ever-so-single self had to watch it all happen.

Having a fight with a bestie is hard on its own, it's absolutely amazing when it happens around ones birthday. Right now, there were suppose be having a blast in a local spa and preferably talk about the latest boy they'd flirted with the night before. But no.

The dread of having a fallout with a friend is often worse than a break up.

There was only one person she truly wished to text at that moment, but their texting has been getting out of hand for the past days. She tried to avoid wallowing in the memories of her blushing at her phone last night. She was just a friend to Oscar, nothing more. It was impossible - he was her brother's teammate! A very sweet, funny and irresistable teammate. She imposed a self-ban on her, no texting Oscar during the day. At least today.

//

"What if I... hire a horse and have her ride on it to the paddock!" Lando said, desperation dripping from his mouth.

Oscar chuckled, this was way too much fun to watch. Lando shot him an intimidating look, making the poor guy worried for a moment. He can't possibly know, right? Oscar gulped, swallowing his next chuckle.

"Something funny, Osc?"

"No, certainly not." Never once has Oscar felt more like a school boy that right there. "Although, I would question if this is something she would truly enjoy. I imagine she is a little shy for that."

He did not need to imagine anything - he could practically see her horrified texts incoming. It has been few hours since she's responded. It was getting harder for Oscar to keep lying to himself a pretending it did not bother him.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Lando replied after a moment o thought. "Fuckin' hell. I can't just buy her a necklace. That's so lame."

Oscar agreed. Unless it was a personal one.

"I'd say you should keep it private and sweet."

Lando was getting slightly annoyed, as no clear idea seemed to come up. "No, Oscar, it needs to be an absolute bomb. Gotta cheer her up somehow."

The Australian man could not argue with that. "True. Come on, what does she like?"

"I dunno, it's hard. And like, we don't have much time. to organize," Lando sighed. He should have prepped this sooner.

Unlike Lando, Oscar had a very clear idea of which direction to go to. He just couldn't be blunt about it. "When have you seen her happiest?"

Lando frowned, his eyebrows dancing in deep thoughts. "I dunno, when she brings home a new guy?"

Oscar's stomach did a u-turn at the idea of Y/N bringing guys home. More specifically, guys that were not him. "No, I meant like - time of the year of something like that."

Silence fell over the room. "I dunno, on her birthday, maybe?! What the fuck is your point?" Lando asked bluntly. Oscar bit his lip, this was going to be painful. It was simple, obvious, hell anyone who knew her at least a bit would know the one thing she absolutely loves was Christmas - and why not have Christmas now? Get a little tree, pump it up and make it all a big jolly fun.

"Yes, but like, time of the year - what does she like the most?" Oscar tried once again.

Lando was getting impatient. "Are you hinting on anything specific or just shooting in the dark?" It sounded more like a threat than a question. Oscar had no choice but to back down, worried he might have to reveal things he wished to be private at the moment. His massive crush on Lando's sister being the main thing he had to hide.

"Nope, just trying to give you pointers..." he said and sunk deeper in his chair. For a good chunk of the next 20 minutes he had to listen to the "war council" coming up with mediocre ideas like booking up a private spa in the city centre.

//

1 day before Hungarian Grand Prix 2024 and Y/N birthday

Lando woke up with a vision, a genius idea and a ground breaking concept - Christmas in July! Scratched all his other plans and had his team working on the ever-so-easy task of getting a Christmas tree in the middle of summer, on a weekend of all days. Many curse words were uttered in secrecy by his assistants.

Nevermind the three Christmas themed TikToks Oscar sent him, trying to steer his subconsciousness.

Lando created a massive group chat, instructing everyone not to acknowledge Y/N birthday the following day and to wait for the celebration after the race. Everyone was invited. Including Oscar, who was skeptical about leaving Y/N guessing the whole day. But, it was Lando's call. So he obeyed.

//

Hungarian Grand Prix 2024 and Y/N birthday

There was a strange energy in the air the whole day. Y/N had a very little contact with her brother, as he was fully deep in prep for his race. Oscar was also completely MIA. It was all terribly, terribly lonely. She shouldn't have come here. Her secret hopes of getting some alone time with Oscar totally clashed with the fact he was busier than usual. Birthday was no big deal anyway, right? Phone calls she received from her family were precious and were enough - at least this is what she tried to convince herself with when she sipped another lonely coffee. The buzz and excited people around the paddock not helping her. Nobody seemed to care. She would have thought that Oscar would. But no.

//

It was supposed to be a joyous celebration. But after the very questionable race they'd all just gone through, it was all but that. Lando really tried to push his real emotions back and be there to celebrate his sister. But it was just not working at all. Part of his wished he had done this thing the evening before. He was exhausted, pissed, sad and just wanted to go home. And she could see right through him.

When she got picked up by a driver and taken to a location unknown to her, she knew what was up. But, the decorations surprised her - someone really went all out. Christmas lights and decorations covered the whole room and big banquet with enough food to last them to the next December. It was a dream come true. But sometimes, it just takes few people to make an evening special. And the one she really wished to attend wasn't there.

Happy birthday! I hope your party is all you could have wished for. I was looking forward to be there with all of you, but I think my presence would taint it today. Hope you have a blast and have a wonderful year ahead of you!

The text lingered, as she toasted with another random person. As if it burned on her phone and through her pocket.

Thank you - congratulations of your first win!

It was a dry, cold response. But she did not have more in her to write. He did left her on read for two days. She had to remember her loayality towards her brother, who did go and created the best evening she could have asked for. She saw him, sitting at a table, deep in his own head. She went to sit next to him.

"Penny for your thought?" she nudged her brother. As soon as she spoke to him, he put on his fake smile on, the one he used the whole evening to hide his real emotions.

"Just happy you're happy," he said, clouded by his own emotions too much to see that she was in fact not having a good time. But both can pretend in order to protect the other.

"It is magnificent," she said, looking around at the massive Christmas tree. "Thank you."

Lando smiled weakly, getting sick of that sentence.

"Lando, I can see you're feeling really down. You do not have to be here just to please me. It must be horrible," she said, taking on the role of the supporter.

Her brother was crunched to his seat, visibly exhausted and completely over this bloody day. He couldn't look at her, as he felt incredibly selfish by making this about him again. As he always did.

"I'm a shit brother sometimes. I just want you to be happy," he responded.

"What a long we've travelled from you hitting me with a stick everytime mom turned around."

Lando let a small laugh out and finally looked at her.

"Ok, brother, I can't have you staying here, looking like you're about to drop dead any minute. Go do what you need to do. And we both know that is to get out of sight and have some alone time," she ordered, not having it anymore.

"You're right. As always. And hey, about that annoying friend of yours...I'll be alright. I'm sure of it." Lando never liked her, but he knew that Y/N loved her, so basic respect it was from him. Y/N's bigger issue at the moment was Lando-Oscar relationship. And her little crush. After the event today, it just seemed so out of the window.

"All will be alright," she replied, trying to convince herself more than Lando. "Now get off my party, you weirdo," she said jokingly, knowing well enough with him gone, there will be no one she truly liked left on her party. Just Lando's friend and few people from his team. But that was a reasonable price to pay for letting her brother go and deal with his emotions.

//

A knock on the door. Y/N came to the hotel quite late, but apparently someone wanted to come to visit even later.

She slowly opened the door, only to find a somewhat drunk Oscar swinging from one side to another, having troubles standing straight.

"Ssshh," he gestured immediately upon her opening the door, making in fact a louder sound than she ever planned on making.

"Oscar!" she whispered, surprised. Her heart must have stopped temporarily. He was there, standing in front of her. They were alone, for anyone to see. He was gorgeous. Stripped out of any inhibitions, barely keeping his eyes open.

"I'll stay here," he announced, rejecting an invitation that was never uttered. "I can't make your brother mad, not today. As you know."

Y/N was in a slight panic mode - the universal panic only one's crush can induce.

"I...have. A gift for you," Oscar mumbled and finally revealed his hand which was behind his back this whole time. It was a small box wrapped in the cheesiest Christmas paper. Y/N couldn't but smile at the awkward way it was wrapped, obviously Oscar himself took the time to do it on his own. "I wanted-wanted to give it to you this evening, but you know. Racing got...dramatic," he said, tripping over his own tongue. Y/N leaned closer and tried to stable him, which he rejected. "No! I will not come to your room today, no matter how much I want to," he continued denying offers that weren't made, making her laugh a bit. Drunk Oscar was a very cute Oscar. "I value you. And our...it's not a relationship, but it's also not a friendship, so let's just call it a ship," he reasoned, burped and then continued. "I value our ship and I do not want anyone to think I'm taking ad-advantage of you, so it must be done right. Today is not the day," he said, pointing his finger up. "Take this," he pushed his gift to her hands. "Lando said a necklace is a bad gift, but I don't think so. This will look pretty on your neck."

Y/N never took Oscar as a talkative drunk. But it was sweet to watch him, no boundaries at all.

"Thank you, Oscar. This is so nice of you," she said, still fighting her own surprised reaction.

"Good. I will go now. Today is not the right day to tell you I have a crush on you," he said and marched through the hallway, hopefully to his hotel room.

It was impossible to wipe off the smile out of Y/N face. Her crush liked her back. Gave her a beautiful gift.

But he was right - that day was not a good day for them to get together. But, a ship has definitely sailed.

[creweemmaeec11]

The Queen Rises at Witching Hour

Here it is! I've been working on this piece on and off for months, but it's finally here! It's a tad different and much longer than my normal stuff, but please read it and let me know what you think in the comments! I'd really love some feedback!

"I'm so excited!" The hero cheered with a smile, his soft short hair bouncing slightly as they walked down the hall. "You're finally getting to meet the city's mayor!" he glanced over at his sidekick, who seemed to be off in her own world, "Is everything okay?" he asked when he didn't immediately get a response. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah, of course! Just lost in thought," She replied, shaking her head a bit. The two walked down the long elegant hallway with marble floors quietly for a moment before the hero spoke up again. 

"It's okay to be nervous," he said, trying to be reassuring. 

The problem with that was the hero didn't know the real reason she was a tad nervous, so his words did little for the fizzling tension building at the base of her spine, nor the dreadful emptiness in her gut.

"Besides," He continued, "I'm sure he's looking forward to meeting you and getting the chance to thank you for all the help you've provided the city. You definitely deserve it. It usually doesn't take this long," 

"Why *did* it take so long this time, then?" The sidekick asked. The hero was right; it didn't usually take this long for the new recruits to be introduced to the mayor. This had put quite a kink in their plans, pushing them back a whole month behind schedule. 

"I heard there was a mutant problem at the gates he had to deal with or something, but you don't need to worry about it," he dismissed with his usual disarming smile. 

"Right..." 

There was another beat of silence, the only noise being the quite padding of their feet as they walked.

"He was caught up fighting Witching Hour, right?" 

The hero went rigid, "Yeah- I- how do you even know that name?" 

"She's become pretty famous lately. I mean, she is kind of leading the mutant uprising, isn't she?" 

"Yeah, they call her "the queen of mutants," but don't worry. We won't let them win. You're getting stronger by the day, and together, I'm sure we'll be able to stop them," 

Something in her heart sank at that notion. A blow to a foolish hopefulness inside her that she'd been trying to ignore. 

"Do you really think mutants..." she trailed off, unsure if she actually wanted to ask. 

"Do I think mutants what?" the hero pressed uncertainly.

"Do you really think mutants deserve to be thrown out of the city into the tangles? I mean, I'm sure you've heard the stories of the beasts that roam around out there," 

The hero suddenly stopped in his tracks. 

"Okay, whatever you do, you need to make sure nobody around here hears you say anything like that. Of course mutants deserve to be sent out of the city. They are dangerous, sidekick." 

"Right, of course, sorry. You're right," she assuaged. 

They continued walking. 

"I mean... take Witching Hour, for example. She might look normal, but she can manipulate dark matter, for crying out loud!" He threw his hands into the air to emphasize his point. 

His sidekick nodded as they approached the two large doors at the end of the hall. They could already hear the racket of the party on the other side. 

"Alright, let's go," Sidekick smiled, pushing open the door before the hero could say anything else. She didn't want to give him the chance to ask her where the question came from. 

The party turned out to be more fun than Sidekick had initially imagined. For being almost entirely full of self-righteous idiotic snobs, she was actually enjoying herself. The two of them made their rounds, shaking hands as the hero proudly introduced her to the different members of the council and other figureheads at the party. She already knew who they all were, of course. But she played along. Smiling when they thanked her for all she'd already done for the city. 

They had no idea. 

She and hero had fallen into their usual rhythm, laughing and bantering between the moments of seriousness. She was actually so caught up in the party, that when it finally happened, she was momentarily surprised. 

"Did you see his face!?" Hero snickered quietly while sidekick laughed.

"I did," She smiled, "He was so shocked I was the one who saved the bus last week," 

"They have a habit of underestimating sidekicks," the hero admitted, though he continued smiling, "But you're one of the best I've ever had. You're talent and skill have grown so fast! You'll graduate to hero status in no time. But... I admit I'll definitely miss working with you. ," 

Before she could offer any response to that, a loud cry from the back of the room had everyone's attention. 

"MUTANTS!" 

Then, all hell broke loose. 

Two building guards appeared behind the two heroes before they could even react, cuffing their hands behind their backs. Hero looked over his shoulder to see one's eyes shift colour while the other seemed able to control gravity, forcing them to their knees under a crushing weight. 

"Hey-!" Hero yelped as he was pushed down. 

"Don't move, and you won't get hurt," The guard interrupted. 

Sidekick didn't struggle, unlike the hero, who would never go down without a fight. But he couldn't do much but wiggle with the insane weight of the air above him to hold him down. He was struggling to breathe now under the crushing weight. 

She made eye contact with the guard behind her, but the interaction remained unseen to anyone else. 

"hero, stop struggling!" sidekick whisper-shouted, "Please just trust me!" 

The hero met her eyes before complying, he gave up his struggle, and almost immediately, the weight on his shoulders eased up. He sucked in a desperate breath. 

"Good boy," The second guard replied mockingly, "She's a smart one; you should listen to her if you don't want me to end up having to kill you," 

More chaos was erupting in the room. A few guards were trying to fight, but more and more guards were shifting, using mutant powers to overcome them. Hero felt gutted and helpless as he watched. The entire embassy had been infiltrated! 

Fire, water and everything in between seemed to sling around the room.

Slowly, more and more guards and party-goers were overcome, being apprehended and forced to kneel with their hands cuffed behind them. 

Finally, the guards that had been protecting the mayor, began losing the battle. One by one, they went down until a single, large mutant who'd been posing as a guard walked up. The mayor dropped to his knees, cowering under the sharp blade that was suddenly a hairs width away from his windpipe. 

He looked pathetic on the floor in front of what anyone else would call a throne, sitting at the head of the room. The giant chair he sat on during parties so people could come to introduce themselves one by one. 

"My queen would like a word," The mutant said in a low voice. There was a moment of silence, when suddenly, sidekick stood up. 

"Sidekick, what are you doing!?" Hero whisper-yelled at her in a panic. 

She glanced at him. She felt terrible, but it was too late to turn back now. Not that she would have, but he was a good guy. 

Something about the apologetic look in her eyes made it dawn on him. 

"Well done, boys," she complimented the guards as the cuffs fell to the floor, revealing they'd never actually been locked. She didn't even sound like the same person. Before, she had been a quiet, gentle-mannered but polite girl. Now, her voice seemed to encompass the entire room effortlessly. It echoed through the air eerily.

She reached up, pulling the pin out of her long black hair, letting it fall back over her shoulders and revealing the purple streaks that had been hidden within her updo. 

All eyes were on her. 

She tossed the large spike-like clip onto the ground and began walking forward. A powerful walk, making sure to step on the pin on her way. The second it crunched under her heel, the spell broke. The transformation started at her shoulders, clothing morphing and shifting as it fell, revealing her famous, skin-tight assassin armour and purple cape. Her heels seemed to grow, clacking on the hard floor as she walked. Dark matter began to spark at her fingertips, only to start growing a second later. Electric purple and black swirled until she held her signature short dagger, which she twirled through her fingers almost casually. Her violet eyes flared.

Even her walk was different, the hero noted. 

"I have to say, Thomas, I like what you've done to the place,' Witching Hour smiled as she walked, using the mayor's real name, "there really is no place like home, huh? Man, it feels good to be home~," 

Sparking purple electricity seemed to randomly fizzle and crack throughout the room as if it was a giant creature encompassing its surroundings. 

"This is not your home," The mayor replied shakily, clinging to the fragments of bravery that lay shattered at his feet. 

Witching Hour laughed at that, before smiling with teeth that seemed sharper than they were earlier in the evening, "It was once; before you and you're soldiers came along, was it not? It was all of our homes," she gestured around the room, to all the mutants who had come out of their disguises. 

By now, she was standing a few feet in front of the man, the previous mutant guard having stepped aside, "I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you but..." she smirked, eyes glinting purple dangerously, "You already know my name."

"But let's not get off on such an unpleasant foot, hm? I'd just like a word, if you will?" She gave an overdramatic bow, but the light of her tone made the action mocking, "I apologize for the entrance, but you're quite a hard man to get ahold of when the request comes from one of my kind," 

"I have nothing to discuss with the likes of you," the mayor stammered, trying and failing to sound intimidating from his cowered position in front of his throne. 

"Thankfully, this is more of a "you listen while I discuss the non-negotiable" type situation," Witching Hour smiled gently, as if talking down to a confused child, "You see, I have great news! The other mutants and I have decided that you've done such a good job governing this place that you deserve some time off!" She cheered, her tone dripping in joy so bitter it could burn, "In fact, today marks the beginning of your early retirement!" 

"You can't be serious-" 

"Oh, but I am," the villain replied, humming in a satisfied tone, "You're nothing but a power-hungry kitten playing lion, and our kind is done being preyed on," suddenly she swung her dagger forward, stopping only centimetres away from the mayor's throat, forcing him back against his chair, chin tilted up away from the blade. The fear on his face had a twisted satisfaction to it as he flinched back violently.

"G-go on," the mayor said, swallowing, the movement causing his throat to inch infinitesimally closer to the blade before it, "It won't do you any good. Show everyone what you are." 

It was pathetic how big of a bluff that was, but she was almost impressed he had the guts to bluff at all, the insolent man he was.

Witching Hour smirked, but her tone dropped to a chilling cold, "I'm not that kind,"

With that she stood up, taking a few steps back, sheathing her dagger and looking at two of her guards, a smile still gracing her lips, "Throw him into the tangles," she commanded.

The mayor's face seemed to drain of any colour it still had left, "NO! No no, please! Surely we can reach an agreement of some kind!?"

The villain laughed, genuinely amused, "I seem to recall you saying we have nothing to discuss," she smirked, watching as the two guards wrestled to get him by each arm. "We never got the chance to bargain. You always acted like you were so much better, stronger than us-"

Witching Hour raised her hand, and suddenly the mayor's wallet flew out of his pocket towards her. The instant it was in her palm, it burst into deep purple flames of dark matter, "Let's see how you fare in a world where money means nothing," she explained, sprinkling the soot remains onto the marble floor.

"You won't get away with this!" Hero suddenly called out. His voice was full of anger, but the hints of fear and hurt slipped through, "I trusted you! You-!"

He gasped, unable to breathe as the guard behind him pinned the hero with increased gravity yet again.

"What do you want done with him?" The guard asked indifferently, "Should he follow the mayor-?"

"No," the villain replied coolly, "Secure him in my room, I will deal with him myself,"

Hero gasped as air finally flooded his lungs. He was left coughing as two guards took him away as well.

---------

About three hours later, Witching Hour finally reached the mayor's bedroom. It was well into the early hours of the morning now, and she was truly exhausted.

As soon as the door closed behind her, she collapsed back to lean against it with a sigh, eyes closing and hands going to her forehead.

"Long day?"

The disdainful voice seemed to startle her out of her trance. She flinched, causing small sparks of purple to crackle throughout the room.

Right. The villain had forgotten about hero.

He was on the couch, hands still in handcuffs, with a rope attached to the back of the sofa. He had clearly been trying to get out of the cuffs, based on the redness around his wrists and the disarray of the couch cushions. His upper lip and nose were bloody, having run down his face and dried.

Witching Hour took a deep breath, steadying herself before she stood back up straight. "Yes. Yes, it has been a long day," she replied, taking a few steps forward, "who did that to you?" She asked, gesturing to his injuries.

"Does it matter?" He bit back, glaring.

"Of course it does. I instructed them not to hurt you,"

The hero simply scoffed at that, letting his head fall back against the arm of the sofa.

The villain didn't reply, eyeing him momentarily before turning and heading into the connected bathroom. After a few minutes of digging, she reemerged with a medkit.

Without stopping she began walking toward the couch.

The hero flinched at the sound of her approaching footsteps, looking up. He shrunk back, curling up on himself slightly, "don't even think about it," he ordered, "get away from me,"

She stopped.

The villain would be lying if she said she didn't feel a painful stab in her core at that reaction. Not trusting her was one thing, but to be afraid of her? That hurt so much more than she was expecting.

"Seriously hero?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, "I've patched you up how many times before?"

She had lost count of the amount of times she'd patched up the hero in front of her. After learning she had medical skills, hero always much preferred having her see to his injuries than going to a hospital.

"The real you hasn't patched me up once," he replied coldly. He continued shrinking back as she began approaching again, "I'm serious!" He snapped, growing more frantic.

"Hero I'm not going to hurt you," she said softly as she set the first aid kit down on the side table next to them.

"How can I trust a word you have to say!? For all I know, everything you've ever told me could have been a lie! I don't even know you!"

"How about this," Witching Hour started, "You let me patch you up, and while I do, I'll answer all the questions you want to ask honestly, as long as they are about me,"

"How can I trust you to tell the truth?" The hero asked, eying her warily. Despite his nerves, getting answers seemed to pique his interest, as the villain knew it would.

"What good would lying now do me?" She asked.

"I don't know," he replied, "that's the problem,"

Witching Hour gave an exasperated sigh, glancing up at the ceiling. "I'm going to go get a wet face cloth; I'll be right back,"

When she returned, she kneeled down on the ground next to the hero, who was still shying away from her slightly. After laying the face cloth down on the table, she reached forward and began unzipping the front of his costume to clean up the blood that had run down to his chest.

An outsider might have thought this was an awkward action to perform, but after so many past patch-up jobs, it came naturally.

She hadn't even thought of it until the hero gave a sharp inhale, which she did her best to ignore as she reached for the cloth to begin wiping off the blood.

Silence fell between them for a few moments as the rain began lightly hitting the window outside. The mayor's room smelt of wood and old books, and the vintage, antique furniture felt a stark contrast to the white marble and gold trims of the hallways. Most of his walls were covered in shelves, books and other trinkets, filling them all to the brim.

The hero watched her as she worked, eyes tracing her still familiar features like he had from this angle so many times before. It was this uncanny valley of familiar and unknown. Her face looked just as he'd always known it, eyes concentrated on her task. The only difference was the long hair with purple streaks falling over her shoulders.

"What's your real name?"

The noise seemed to shake her concentration, but the question itself almost startled her more. Her eyes flicked up to him in surprise. Of everything she expected him to ask, that certainly wasn't it.

"Valerie," the villain replied after a moment, before continuing her ministrations, "Valerie Rivera. I only lied about my last name,"

"You said is was Raven. You never strayed very far," hero commented.

Witching Hour simply hummed.

"How long have you been a Mutant?"

"About 5 years," she replied as she finished with his chest and moved up to his face, "I'd just turned twenty when it started, only about a year after the overgrowth first began,"

Mentally, the hero noted that meant she hadn't lied about her age. She was the same age as him.

"Was everything up until this a lie?"

She paused again at that, at something in his tone, eyes flicking over to meet his, seeming to search for something, before going back to cleaning the last bits of dried blood off his face, "What do you mean?"

"The sidekick act, wanting to help people, our- our friendship!" He snapped, the hurt more evident than ever in his voice, "Was *any* of it real?!"

The cloth fell away from his face, and their eyes met again, "of course it was." Witching Hour said softly, "I never lied to you about anything I didn't have to. Yes, we may have met under false pretenses, but that doesn't mean everything was fake. My goal was to get a meeting with the mayor. That goal didn't include getting lunch with you on the weekends, or helping you move furniture at 10pm on a Monday night,"

The hero remembered that incident. He had been so excited about the new sofa that had just been delivered he couldn't wait to get it into the living room. He had called his sidekick to ask for help to move it. She was the first person he thought to ask.

"That goal didn't include protecting you from injury, nor us talking for way too long about our favourite movies." She reached into the first aid kit for a sterile strip for the hero's lip, "All I needed was this party tonight. Everything else was my choice,"

"So what's your choice now, then?" The hero asked as she finished applying the strip, "We may have been friends, but that doesn't mean I'll let you get away with what you're doing,"

Suddenly, Witching Hour's dagger materialized in her hand. Before the hero could even react, it swung, slicing the rope that bound his handcuffs to the couch.

"Right now, I'm choosing to go to bed," the villain replied as she stood up, "You've got ten minutes to get ready for bed before I'm reattaching you to the couch. We've got a long day tomorrow,"

"Excuse me?" the hero sputtered, "*We* have a long day tomorrow? What is that supposed-"

"Nine minutes," she chimed as she began rooting through the mayor's closet, "I suggest using the bathroom while you can,"

The hero huffed, before getting to his feet and heading to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the washroom to find that his old sidekick had shed her assassin suit and had since slipped on one of the mayor's oversized dress shirts, wearing it as a nightgown.

"What?" Witching Hour questioned in amusement, smirking slightly, snapping him out of his previous staring, "Don't act like you haven't seen me in my underwear before. How many thousand times have we had to change into our hero suits behind dumpsters when trouble breaks out during our time off?"

The hero sputtered, "Yeah but that- that wasn't-"

He trailed off when she simply raised an eyebrow at him.

What he wanted to say was that he was always in the heat of the moment! In the chaos of everything he'd never actually stopped to think about how casually and comfortably they'd done something so... arguably intimate. Sure, it's not like they had ever been naked in front of each other, but frantically changing was much different from... she was just standing there!

Instead of that, however, the only thing that came out was a "nevermind, whatever," as he looked away and walked back toward the couch.

"If you're uncomfortable I can-" the villain began in confusion.

"No, its fine; I'm not uncomfortable, I just wasn't expecting it after everything today," he dismissed, sitting back down on the couch. It's not like his thoughts were drifting anywhere uncivil, but the realization of how comfortable he'd been around arguably the biggest supervillain since the overgrowth was a startling revelation. But the more he thought of her as his sidekick, the less weird it seemed.

He remembered an event from a few months ago, where he was too injured and tired to make it home from Sidekick's apartment, so he slept in his boxers on the couch, having shed his bloodstained clothes to put in the wash overnight. Neither of them had batted an eye at the situation. He hadn't even thought about it being weird to an outsider.

It felt weird to him now. To be so vulnerable around someone he didn't know as well as he thought. She could have killed him in his sleep that night.

She hadn't.

Suddenly a swath of fabric hit him in the face.

"Three minutes," Witching hour stated, "Do us both a favor and don't do something stupid while I'm in the bathroom, yeah?"

The hero blinked, looking at the blanket in his still cuffed hands, "y-yeah,"

That threat seemed to snap him back to reality. He should have been doing something stupid, like trying to escape! It must have been how tired he was, thinking about sleeping in the same room as a killer!

He shed his hero uniform as best he could while handcuffed and threw the blanket over himself. She wasn't trying to kill him. He could use that to his benefit. Take advantage of the opportunity being offered to regain his strength, and then keep an eye out for his opportunity tomorrow.

Even if they had been close friends. He wasn't about to let her get away with this. She still had to be stopped.

A moment later, the villain in question returned. Without warning, she made a vague gesture towards the sofa, and Hero felt a sharp tug on his wrists. Out of nowhere, a purple chain materialized, linking his handcuffs to the couch once more.

He gasped, eyes wide, staring at the glowing chain in front of him. The hero only encountered magic a couple times, and never this close-up, especially long enough for him to actually examine it.

For curiosity's sake, he gave his wrists an experimental tug, but the partially translucent chain had no give, behaving as though made of solid steel.

"It's pretty cool, isn't it?"

The hero glanced up, noticing Witching Hour watching him.

"It's... something." He huffed stubbornly.

The villain laughed, flopping herself down onto the mayor's bed on the other side of the room before flicking off the lights.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, until hero had to ask.

"What happened to all the human guards?"

"Depends," Witching Hour replied, "if they were injured in the fighting, they were sent to the hospital. If not, they were escorted out the front door and told to go home. There were a select few who are our friends who are still here,"

Of all the responses the hero could have gotten, that wasn't the one he was expecting.

After a few more moments of silence, the villain spoke again, "We're not monsters hero. Despite what your bosses would have you think."

That was the last thing either of them said before going to sleep.

[thedickgraysons]

acotar tag game!

thank you for the tags @mathiwrites and @fourteentrout ! this was really fun to do, i'm always looking for an excuse to yap about my opinions

Who's your favourite ACOTAR character?

It’s definitely a tie between Lucien and Nesta! I’ve been a ride or die for Lucien since the first book, because I love me a charismatic red head, but I tend to be more vocal about my love for Nes.

Who's your least favourite character?

Oof, it would have to be Amren. I just don’t think she really adds anything to the story beyond existing to be snarky and drop lore when SJM writes herself into a corner. Definitely a character that would have had more impact if she would have stayed dead.

Say something nice about your least favourite character.

Her concept is very interesting! A creature that is not a faerie who was forced to inhabit the body of one. Who had greater abilities than anyone could dream, her only connection to the creature she was, only to lose them all at the cost of her living. Psychologically that is so cool, I would love to read more about what it meant for her mental state in the aftermath.

Who's your favourite High Lord? (If you picked one for your fav character, then who's your second fav!)

Tarquin! When he was introduced, he just instantly stole the show for me. I loved how gentle he was with Feyre, his kindness and confidence in his goals to unite lesser and high fae, and how passionate he got when confronting the Night Court.

Favourite MINOR character?

Remember the mortal that Feyre, Elain, Azriel, and Tamlin saved? Briar? Yeah, her. I’m obsessed with her story. A woman who was essentially groomed into praising the fae, learning first hand how awful they could be, and then going off to live with them in her lowest? I need more of her. I want to see how she develops. I hope she’s got a story in the future, because some main players don’t even have a name but she does! I also fuck with Jurian but I don't think he's really a minor character.

Favourite ship? (Crackships included!)

Oh there’s just so many, I can’t keep up. I think my top three, however, would be Azris, Neris, and a secret third crackship that I cooked up, Eris x Azriel x Gwyn. I call them Azrisyn in my head. I’m working on a fic. It’s a whole thing. I think I just really like shipping people with Eris.

Favourite court and why?

Spring! I love the aesthetic and how deeply magical everything was. It truly was like entering a new realm, with a new creature and magical adventure at every turn. I'm also a Winter and Autumn enjoyer.

Make up a brand new court RIGHT NOW, NO PREP JUST VIBES.

OH UHMM The Under Court. Just under the surface of Prythian, in a sprawling maze of tunnels and caverns, is a city carved of glowing stone and glistening gems. Because of the sheer size, this Court is divided into four sections, with each of these sections being overseen by a Stewart, who report directly to a (gasp) High Lady. They're called the High Council. Now I want to write this.

What relationship would you have wanted to see more of in the books?

Emerie and Azriel. Azriel has such an intense loathing for his people that it greatly effects his own view of himself. I want his arc to include him learning more about his culture, and overcoming that internalized bigotry. I want him to look into the face of someone who has been just as brutalized by the Illyrians as he has and realize that they are a people who need help out of the cycle of violence.

What's your unpopular opinion?

All of them, but my most unpopular one is probably that Cassian's wings should have stayed shredded. It made no sense for them to heal, and it would have added more to the story and his character (ie having a bridge to Nesta) to have him stay disabled.

What's your favourite headcanon/fan canon?

I love thinking about the faeries being more magical! I have a whole thread of eldritch horror-style High Lords and I think about it often. A less intense headcanon I have is that Eris has a gap in his front teeth and Gwyn has glowing freckles because I think its cute.

If you were swept away to Prythian, what's ONE thing you would want to do?

I’m shooting my shot with Lucien, so write that down. I also want to do the Winter Solstice in the Winter Court, because I feel like that would be so much fun. And then I’m moving to Dawn because I do not think I am surviving literally anywhere else. If the climates didn't kill me, the politics would.

If you could have ONE faerie ability seen in the books, which would it be?

If Helion's spell casting and cleaving don't count as one ability, then probably shapeshifting.

again, i love doing tag games so thank you for letting me! i cannot for the life of me think of who else to tag so uhm @ennawrite @wingsdippedingold @christeak and anyone else who wants to tap in?

[beepborpdoodledorp]

Yeah...I have no idea what to think about this.

The entirety of the new update just seems...unnecessary? Of course there’s nothing wrong with updates that just act as cute filler - we just got one - but this entire thing just seems to have come from out of the blue. As in, there are no connecting threads to anything from before. Everything from last year had something intertwining them - Cookie Odyssey was a transition into the next wave of the main story that included or mentioned basically every important character, Duskgloom made an NPC from Odyssey a playable character and gave him his own story, Tales Around the Fireplace acted as a sequel to The Frost Witch and the Lantern in the Snow, Invitation From the Slumbering Moon/Eternal City of Wizards followed up on the plan the Council had established in Odyssey, etc. Even filler stuff at least made sense - Cherry Blossom came during spring, Macaron, a musician with a Christmas aesthetic, came in the middle of the BTS update and to foreshadow the Christmas update, Prophet came to give New Year’s Fortune’s, etc.

This, is, uh...what’s the connecting thread here? Who are any of these people? Why should I care about them? Sure, Parfaedia and the Creme Republic are mentioned, but that’s basically the only thing that’s connected to anything else, and both of the new Cookies associated with these cities haven’t even so much as been foreshadowed before. Companies like these make their updates months in advance, would it be too much to ask to even vaguely hint at the new paladin Cookie during Cookie Odyssey? Like, seriously, who are these people? Is the new Super Epic’s school Scovilla connected to Dragon’s Valley or the Mala Sauce Tribe in any way? I sure hope so, because otherwise it would just see disjointed from everything else. How is the Triple Cone Cup a ‘historic event’ that has been going on for decades if we’ve never even heard it mentioned before? At least with things like the Creme Republic never being mentioned before that had significance for a reveal that some Cookies managed to survive Dark Enchantress’ attack on the Vanilla Kingdom and were able to co-create the Creme Republic with the sea-faring Cookies that were already there. Why is Triple Cone Cup?? Why is any of this?? To make a Harry Potter reference? Like 20% of your fanbase is trans! I don’t think we want a Harry Potter reference!

Also, from what little we have the April Fool’s gag seems...kind of lame. At least in comparison to what we got last year. Poking fun at dating sims/high school rom-coms could be a neat idea but the entire concept is just ripe for potential of making fun of the fanbase’s shipping culture. CRK’s Twitter might have a great engagement with the fans, but the Twitter people don’t make the game, and I honestly have my doubts about if this is going to be a light-hearted jab or just cynical.

The other stuff seems neat enough. Mala Sauce seems like a bit of a weird pick for a Magic Candy, but it does fit well enough with the theme and the poor woman is in desperate need of a buff. Squirrel Shop’s coming back...that’s cool, I guess.

I don’t know, maybe I’m just being more pessimistic than usual because of all the shit happening over in Ovenbreak right now. Maybe I should just skip the entire update - I stopped playing Ovenbreak so I can’t really help with boycotting the new update by not playing it, but in the cases of either game I really don’t feel like giving Devsisters a tick up in their player base activity.

[lesbiansforboromir]

I always answer people who comment on my tolkien meta posts :) I will always have more to say about boromir in particular. But just to comment on a few of your comments;

Oh yes Boromir knows the ainur exist, though he doesnt need to rely on Faramir for that, their existense is proven by the fact that Gondor exists at all. Numenor's catalcysm is fundamental proof of ainur existence, and book!Boromir is pretty conscious of Gondor's history (amusingly his brief explanation about Isildur training Meneldil before leaving Minas Tirith is nonetheless far more historically accurate than anything Faramir says about Gondor when cross referenced with the appendices and unfinished tales, inspite of him being considered the more learned of the two). And well, Sauron lives nextdoor, it is very hard to be an atheist in middle earth.

Oh to be clear, book!Boromir's destruction of the bridge was definitely the only thing he could have done in that scenario, in my mind at least. If he had not done that, then Minas Tirith would have been besieged and taken a whole year before the fellowship could even get there. The passage at Osgiliath and the Rammas was only defensible without the bridge as a wide and stable pass-point for the armies amassed against them. Like Beregond and Faramir can call him rash or reckless as much as they like, I will disagree with their assessment of his character. This is explicitely a Book!boromir defensive blog ;) (and a book!denethor defensive blog but that's for another post)

But this actually brings me to my main point which is like... if you're writing about film!boromir you really don't need to read the books if it's a chore! I mean Osgiliath alone- like in the films Boromir wins this battle! Soundly apparently! He 'retakes' Osgiliath, destruction of a bridge is not even mentioned, and Gondor is left in a far stronger position than in the books because of it. In the books they lost the eastern half of the city and were placed under imminent invasion because of it (again only staved off by the destroyed bridge), they are fighting for their very existence and hope is all but gone, meanwhile film!boromir is making speeches about reclaiming Osgiliath and making it beautiful again, men are drinking and singing in the ruined streets and Denethor feels entirely comfortable to wander about (what should be) an active warzone. It's a different situation, there's no need to try and make them both fit in with each other, like yeah exactly as you say!

Film!Boromir is a vastly different character to the books, he is more talkative, he is more uncertain, he is less stoic or sardonic and more emotive with clear desires to connect with the people around him and with a vastly greater investment in Aragorn as his king and the personalities of the fellowship in general. (Honestly with his kind of... bruised but desperate desire to believe in Aragorn, he actually feels more like a young book!denethor than he does the agnostic and neutral book!boromir. Like the desire for a king to return is fundamentally faithful, you're asking for religious guidance, so film!boromir is more like someone who was once faithful, lost his faith due to his experiences, but always missed and longed for that certainty but oh my god I digress) And he comes to the council with the express intention of claiming the ring for his father, rather than because he is seeking the answer to a prophetic dream as the last hope for his dying people. Boromir also appears to still believe Gondor can be saved, which is OOC for not only book!boromir but also pretty much anyone in book!Gondor at the time. He and his brother also care for each other in an uncomplicated way, nothing of these racial or religious issues exist in film!Faramir's speech, he is even given book!Sam's dialogue about worrying for the families of the easterlings he kills. It would be out of character for film!faramir to start monologuing to his prisoners about how rash and weak-willed Boromir is, how he's a sign of Gondor's moral decline. Just as it would be out of character for book!faramir to worry for his father's disapproval and consider taking the ring, even once.

Sorry I'm getting off track, the point I'm making is we do not disagree on anything but preference. All the things you think were made better by film!boromir's portrayal are the things I specifically like about Boromir and what drew me to him in the first place, different people enjoy different characters and different narratives, hence these two boromirs are not the same character and can therefore be treated as such. I suppose what I mean is be free! You don't have to be constrained by what the books give you, especially when a lot of the time they are active contraditions of each other. I don't mean to reply to people to make them feel like they need to prove to me they are full book experts in order to like the character, have meaningful thoughts about it all or create excellent fanwork, I'm only ever seeing more opportunities to discuss more overlooked aspects of book!boromir's character and taking them gleefully because I like him so much. But they're overlooked because the film ignores or entirely contradicts them! AS SHOULD YOU if the film's version is the version you enjoy! Make up whatever you like, be your own Peter Jackson!

I'm being so so good and not going to address any of your book!boromir comments because this thread is already way too long and no one likes being dragged into a defend your fave debate out of nowhere but if you'd LIKE me too then I can make another thread. Otherwise I hope you have a great time with your fic :) And sorry if I spooked you or made you feel talked down too, my tenuous grip on tact or social graces flies out the window as soon as I can say something about Boromir

Categorically the most galling part of this universal perception that Boromir is a 'poor out-of-his-depth himbo whose completely ignorant of politics' is how it is blindingly canonically apparent that he put massive effort into being a political entity, to the point that his political opinions follow him even into the Council of Elrond.

Without the Council of Elrond, one could interpret his narrative positioning as a more 'Middle Man' and less 'high' as something forced upon him, a (narratively framed) negative aspect of his character that Faramir is critisising and lamenting as just 'part of his nature'. He is being associated with the Rohirrim and other 'lesser' men because he is also a 'lesser' man inspite of his heritage, due to his 'flawed' and 'weak-willed' personality.

Although that is still a bit of a stilted and awkward interpretation in my opinion, Eomer explicitely differentiates Boromir's treatment and manner around the Rohirrim from other men of Gondor he has known. He is 'less grim' etc etc, Eomer felt more at ease in his company, which implies to me more that Boromir interacted with the Rohirrim as equals, unlike most of this kin. Which seems more likely to be an active effort on his part.

But interpretations based off of that are entirely unnecessary, because the Council of Elrond exists! Where Boromir, when confronted with Aragorn's mistrust of the Rohirrim and Gwaihir's accusation that they pay a tribute of horses to Sauron, immediately and comfortably comes to their staunch defense. 'It is a lie that comes from the Enemy' he declares, literally pointing out propeganda that all these elves and dunadain are primed to believe given their own investment in the racial divide between them and these 'middle men'. A primer that also belongs to Boromir, whose place amongst the 'high men' is a right bestowed on him from birth, yet one he is actively discarding here in favour of defending the Rohir perspective.

And not only that! He even goes so far as to place the rohirrim's ethnic and cultural heritage as a reason for their trustworthiness, inspite of the fact that they cannot claim any relation to any so called 'blessed' lineage. They come from 'the free days of old', a statement that is similar to one of Faramir's but that, tellingly, Faramir uses as a method of infantilising the rohirrim 'they remind us of the youth of Men'.

These are all inherently and radically political statements for the heir of the Stewardship, the man next in line to be chieftain of the southern dunadain, to declare, especially when acting as emissary as he is now.

So now, all those moments when Boromir is linked directly with middle men, when his right to his 'high' heritage is questioned, when he is critisised with the same racially charged language as the rohirrim are (too warlike, "we are become Middle Men, of the Twilight, but with memory of other things" [-] "So even was my brother, Boromir") - all of that is now on purpose, on Boromir's part. He is the one distancing himself from the title of 'high' and questioning it's validity in the process, something Faramir clearly disapproved of and was a part of the breakdown in his respect for him. (Understandable, considering Faramir's equal and opposite effort to reclaim the title of 'high' for himself and his people.) Boromir is, essentially, engaging in some kind of racial-hierarchy criticism/abolishionism and activism.

That is not to say that his political opinions all entirely pass muster, he does still engage in racist rhetoric at least once, calling Gondor's eastern enemies 'the wild folk of the east'. But within the context of his own country and it's ethnic diversity, his position is maverick in comparison to pretty much everyone else.

And before anyone says it, let me head off comments like 'Boromir was just being himself, he didn't even know it was political he was just that stupid but I love him for it' No. Boromir's reputation in Gondor was complex and multifacetted but a great many people loved and supported him, clearly we see that there was a divide in political opinion between the two brother's stances on war and society. What you are essentially saying here is that Faramir is such a dull-witted statesman that he was incapable of swaying opinion his way against someone who didn't even know he was a part of the discussion, who wasnt even involved in the debates, against a high society that based their cultural identity on being descended from racially superior Numenoreans. The historical perspective is heavily weighted in Faramir's favour.

The much more likely state of affairs is that Boromir and Faramir have both been working towards their own social change and against each other, causing an opinion divide within the country. And apparently Boromir has not been losing that fight, even if he hasn't been definitively winning it either. Some people call him reckless where Faramir is measured, others say Faramir is not bold enough, Denethor himself claims Faramir is placing his desire for nobility and 'high-ness' over the safety of himself and his people. Culturally Gondor is going in for more pursuits of war-sports (wrestling perhaps) and the adulation of the soldiers that defend them, above the men of lore if Faramir is to be believed.

Society is changing around this debate and Boromir is actively, purposefully and directly involved in that debate! Hells bells, he even describes a part of how he works in the political sphere to Frodo! 'Where there are so many, all speech becomes a debate without end. But two together may perhaps find wisdom.' Boromir is!!! A politician!! On purpose!!

The neutral political position of 'Heir to the Stewardship' given to him by his birth is so ludicrously weighted towards faithful that the effort it must have taken to push the needle and associate with the middle men as such a divisive yet loved figure is MASSIVE. Boromir believed the Rohirrim and middle men of Gondor were his social equals and counted them amongst his people and that was a stance he upheld in PARLIMENT! Stop!! Acting like he's just a blockheaded soldier who cares about nothing else- he cares!! He cares a lot!! Professionally in fact!!

[theunquenchablethirst]

Hooked (Jerome X Reader)

Ok, so this is a thing. I was kinda surprised nobody had used this scene yet, because the Gotham fandom seem to collectively agree that Jerome is BIG KINKY and yet the one scene where he canonically has people cuffed up and hung from the ceiling... nobody has touched??? Y'all have been sleeping on that scene! It's fanfic gold! Anyway, enjoy the hedonism. Much love xxx

Warning: SMUT, 18+, GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, BDSM, bondage, cuffs, dom/sub, vaginal fingering, oral sex, biting, spanking, slapping, pussy slapping, light choking, spitting, belt whipping, praise/degradation, marking, mention of scratching, Jerome is big meanie pants mean man

The new mayor of Gotham is having a meeting with his council members, but things take a turn when the Legion of Horribles show up to kidnap them and reader. When the victims are being unloaded from the truck, Jerome Valeska notices reader, because she isn't exactly on the guest list.

Tag list of lovelies: @gabile18 @valeskaduh @fangirl--writes @persephoneblck

Masterlist

I had been working as a housekeeper for the new mayor. It was a good job, but I wasn't appreciated. I was just there to clean and serve when needed. I don't think he even knew my name. I was just hired help to him. To all of them.

He was hosting a dinner for his council that day. I had been placed in the corner of the room with a bottle of expensive wine where I was to wait until wanted. He gestured for me to come forwards and fill their glasses while they started talking about their displeasure with the rising foul play in the city, like it was anything new for Gotham. The chairwoman wanted to know what he was going to do about it. Very little in my opinion. He was just coasting. In too deep over his head. He had been appointed far too fast and everyone knew it. He wasn't going to last.

He made an attempt to save face and talk about how he too was disturbed by the recent goings on and was doing everything he could. Trash, utter trash. As he rose from his seat, the lights fizzled out. I stopped pouring. Had this been any other city I would have assumed it was a simple power outage, but nothing was that simple in Gotham. The security guard closed us in and went to see what was happening. The air turned icy. No, this was not good. Gunshots and screams came from the hallway and everyone rose from the table terrified. We quickly started walking towards a door hoping to make an escape, but there was something about the windows. They were freezing over.

The doors burst open and I dropped the wine. It smashed into pieces as a blueish man in some kind of robotic suit and a weird looking, but huge gun stepped into the room. Was that Victor Fries? Then through the second set of doors another man in a top hat who I recognised as Jervis Tetch burst in with some other strange looking friends.

Before I could comprehend the situation, we were all being cuffed and taken outside. Our kidnappers pushed and pulled us towards a huge truck, all the while the mayor tried to buy his way free. He was showing just how little he really knew about the underbelly of Gotham. I knew just by looking at them that they were probably Arkham escapees and couldn't be bought like a sane man could. They had their own plans and you can't bargain with crazies.

We got to the truck and they opened the back door. My blood ran cold when I saw that standing there waiting for us was Jerome Valeska. Of all the criminals Gotham had seen he had been the only one that had scared me, truly and thoroughly. He didn't have any kind of reason for what he did. He just enjoyed death and chaos. And after his last escapade he looked like madness personified, his scars circling his face and eyes and giving him a permanent evil smile. Dread consumed me as I realized that he was no doubt the leader of this operation and if that was true, we were already dead.

I felt myself jolted forwards. The mayor had pushed me in front of the rest of the council to get whatever was coming first. If I wasn't cuffed, I would have turned around and broke his nose. I was lifted into the truck, my hands were pulled above my head and fixed to two hooks. I had to stand on my toes to keep standing which made it awkward and difficult as they pushed me to the back of the truck.

Was that Penguin? What was he doing here? He didn't belong here. I had gone to Penguin looking for a job in his club when I was 16. He was impressed with my audition, but when he asked my age, he rejected me.

"This establishment is not a playground for children. It's a nightclub." He had told me. At the time I had been steaming mad, but in hindsight he was probably right. Even if he was rude. So, after that, I found it hard to understand why he was here and working with Valeska. Maybe he had been kidnapped too?

The rest of the council were loaded on and hooked. The mayor was still trying to offer them money and pardons. When he saw it wasn't working, he resorted to empty, unintimidating threats. Jerome was completely unfazed and even a little disappointed in the lack of smiles.

"Nobody knows how to have fun anymore, right?" He said putting his arm around Penguin. So, he was a part of this.

Jerome pointed to a scary looking figure dressed like a scarecrow. Johnathan Crane? Crane released some kind of purple gas in the face of a member of a council. She started laughing and convulsing violently.

"What have you got to lose? Except your sanity?" Jerome joined in the crazy laughter. So, this was his plan. He'd figured out a way to forcefully drive everyone insane. With a gas.

I silently prayed to God in my mind for any kind of help.

After sufficiently terrifying us half to death, they left us in the back of truck. None of us could say anything and after a few minutes the truck started moving.

"Is she ok?" I asked looking towards the victim of the insanity gas.

"Who cares?! We have to figure out what they want and get out of here." Replied the mayor.

"Maybe they want publicity for whatever that gas is. Offer them some TV time." Guessed the chairwoman.

"Don't you get it?! This isn't a situation you can buy your way out of!" I snapped, frustrated with their idiocy.

"These aren't normal criminals. They don't want your money. They want chaos and madness." They stood there silently stunned. They had never heard me speak with such confidence, but in that moment, they knew I was right.

After what felt like hours the truck finally stopped.

"What's going on?" The mayor whispered.

Everything was quiet. We listened for any noise or sign of life. All we could hear was our own breath.

Then suddenly the doors flung open once again and in hopped Valeska, Tetch and Crane.

"We're here!" Jerome grinned.

The other two started to pull the council one by one off the hooks and walk them out of the truck, closely watched by Jerome. Until they got to me.

"Wait..." He stuck an arm out to stop Tetch from unhooking me.

"Who's she? She wasn't on the party list." He took a few steps closer to me.

"This poor young girl is an unlucky maid. Wrong place, wrong time. Very bad day." Jervis explained looking at me.

"Would you like me to... dispose of her?" Asked Crane, stalking close to me and lifting needle covered fingers to my throat.

"Not so fast, Mr Potato Head." Jerome said pulling him away from me.

He came so close that we were only inches apart. He looked down at me as if he was thinking for a few seconds then smirked and turned around to the others.

"Guys, go and see that our guests are comfortable, will ya? Get everything ready." He ushered them out of the truck. Fear travelled up and down my body. This had all been a bad situation, but being alone with Valeska scared the hell out of me.

"You're lucky I have a soft spot for pretty little girls." He closed the truck doors and turned to look at me.

"Freddy Krueger there... not so much." He relaxed, leaning back against the doors with his hands in his pockets. "You got a name?"

I stayed silent, more out of fear than defiance. He sucked his teeth and stood up straight.

"I get it. You're scared. Who wouldn't be, right?" He started slowly walking closer. "But things will go a lot smoother if you just play nice."

I still couldn't find any words.

"Aw, come on, doll! I'm getting awful lonely over here." He brought his hands up out of his pockets and leaned against a wall of the truck.

He was quiet for a few seconds and I noticed that his eyes were making their way up my legs. Being held up by my wrists on my tip toes had pulled my uniform skirt up and almost all of my thighs were exposed. I blurted out my name in an attempt to distract him from my bare legs. He smiled.

"What a pretty name. Now, was that so hard?" He pushed himself off the wall and came a little closer.

"So, you're the mayor's dust bunny, huh? I gotta say, doll, I can see why he keeps you around." He chuckled, eyeing me.

My whole body flushed and my face turned hot and red.

“But, uh, the thing about mayors in this town, they don’t last very long.”

"Please let me go." I whimpered.

"Oh, but we're having such a good time! Plus, if I did that, you'd scamper off to the GCPD and I can't have good ol' Gordon crashing the party early."

I scoffed at his suggestion. Not likely. I had a distinct distaste for the GCPD. They hadn't helped me when I needed them. I would never need them again.

"What's the matter? He book ya before or something?" Jerome smiled with intrigue.

"My parents... they... did things to us. When I ended up in the hospital one too many times..." Tears stung my eyes as I remembered. "They left me there and disappeared with my little brother. No one ever managed to track them down."

I didn’t fully understand why I was opening up to Jerome, but for a second, I saw a spark of humanity in his eyes. Like he understood my pain. I'd heard his first kill had been his mother, so maybe he did?

"I'd give anything to see him again." I sniffed and a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Yeah, I had shitty parents too." He sighed. "I killed them both."

I had thought about what I would do if I ever saw my parents again. What I would say, what I would ask. I could never think of the right words. But the thought of killing them, well that made me smile.

"What was it like?" I asked.

Jerome grinned from ear to ear and stepped closer so that we were toe to toe.

“Have you ever stood at the edge of a really tall building? You know that little voice in the back of your head that says ‘Jump! You can fly!’ even though every other part of you is screaming ‘No you can’t! You’re gonna kill us!’”

I nodded shakily.

“It’s like finally giving in to that voice. Like jumping off Gotham Bridge and finding out you can fly. And realising you never have to walk again.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and my heart felt like it was going a million beats per minute. His eyes were locked on mine and it felt like he was looking straight into my soul.

“You wanna fly, doll?” He brought his hand up to cup my jaw and ran his thumb along my bottom lip.

It wasn’t humanity I saw in Jerome Valeskas eyes. It was freedom. A freedom that I had wanted for as long as I could remember. And I could have it right now. He was offering it to me. The only thing standing in my way was myself.

“Yes.” I breathed. “Yes, I do.”

The next thing I knew, his lips were crashing into mine and he had hooked his hands under my thighs and was holding them around his waist. His kiss was desperate and hungry, like he had been starved for days and his grip on the bare flesh of my thighs was rough enough to leave bruises. I locked my ankles together behind him to steady myself from swaying underneath the cuffs. When I did, he drove his crotch forwards, grinding into my centre, a quiet moan escaping me as I felt him.

He slowly trailed a hand from my thigh, up my back and to the nape of my neck, before balling my hair in his fist. I gasped as I felt the sudden, sharp tug of him pulling my head back.

His eyes wandered down to settle on my exposed throat, before yanking my head to the side and nestling in the crook of my neck. He must’ve left a hundred open mouth kisses, but as he started to suck, I felt his teeth sink into my skin. I pulled back with a hiss at the sting, but he wouldn’t let go. He just kept on leaving harsh, red bitemarks and pulling my hair, all the time grinding harder into me.

He licked over the bruises he’d left and gently kissed them, before trailing his tongue up my neck to nip at my ear. He smiled darkly and pulled back away from me, dropping my legs back to the floor. He stalked around me, eyeing me up and down like a predator. I felt him behind me, his hands softly holding onto my waist, pulling me close to his chest.

“You know what’s great about this?” He cooed. “You’re already pre-cuffed.”

I flushed and my core swelled hot, his breath so close to me made my skin tingle all over. He pulled at the top of my skirt and dragged it down my hips, letting it fall down around my feet. He caressed my thighs and then stepped back, tugging at my underwear, playfully letting the elastic snap back to me.

“Y’know...” He said, before the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling. “Marquis de Sade said ‘sex without pain is like food without taste’...”

My eyes widened at his words and my heartbeat quickened.

“So, let’s make this... delicious.”

A million thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could process any, I felt the sharp snap of leather against my ass. I jolted forwards and let out a high pitch yelp.

Even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell he was smirking. I could hear it in his voice. I bit my lip in an attempt to brace myself and he landed the belt across me again.

“Please, Jerome...” I whimpered at the sting, closing my eyes.

He brought it down again, making me arch my back in a gasp. A couple of tears rolled down my cheeks and I realised there was little point in resisting the torment. So, I gritted my teeth and prepared for another lick of the belt.

He whipped me once more, harder this time and a small scream escaped me.

“Please!” I begged.

I heard him chuckle with dark delight. The bastard was enjoying this. Of course he was. What else had I expected from someone like him? I tightened all my muscles for the next sting...

But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt him pulling my underwear down. Relief washed over me when I heard the belt drop to the floor and I realised Jerome was finished and was now crouched, ready to inspect his work. He ran his fingers over my burning flesh, taking in the bright red lashes he had left on me.

“What a pretty picture?” He said, landing a spank. “I wish you could see too doll, but having you cuffed is half the fun.”

His voice was dripping with venom and arousal and I could practically feel his grin in the air. He traced the marks with his fingers a little longer, before grabbing my flesh in fistfuls and sinking his teeth in. I gasped loudly at the hard bite. I wasn’t sure how many more of Jerome's surprises I could take. He laughed and ran his tongue over the new bruise.

“Yep. Definitely a pretty picture.” He smiled, giving me another spank. “I like those little noises you make, doll. Why don’t you make some more for me?”

He snaked his hand up my inner thigh and began stroking along my slit, relighting the fire in my stomach. I moaned, biting hard on my lip and tried to bring my thighs together, wanting friction.

“Naughty.” He said, landing a swift slap on my entrance causing me to let out a little yelp. “I need you to keep those legs open for me.”

It wasn’t as bad as the belt. In fact, it felt quite good. The heat inside me swelled as Jerome returned to running his fingers back and forth in my slickness. I hummed softly in my throat, fighting the urge to close my thighs again, my knees starting to shudder underneath me.

“Look how wet you are and I’m barely touching you.” Jerome chuckled darkly. “I wonder what happens if I do this?”

Jerome plunged two fingers deep inside me and slowly started pumping them. I let the warmth roll through me, moaning blissfully. He gently started to pick up speed, making it nearly impossible for me to keep my thighs apart. The faster he got, the deeper he dove, making me tighten around his talented fingers and struggle to keep steady on my toes.

My legs were shaking and despite my best efforts I just had to squeeze them together. As soon as I did, Jerome removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty and spanked me hard.

“What did I say about that?” He barked, laying down another spank.

His spanking felt different this time. It felt pleasurable and sent a thrill up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whimpered.

“Sorry for what?” He spanked me again. “For being a needy little whore? Hm?” Another spank.

“Yes!” I gasped. “I’m a needy little whore! I just...”

“What? You just what?”

Jerome landed another slap at my core. It made my muscles clench, but it also aroused me so much more in a way I’d never thought I’d experience.

“What? What do you want, whore?”

“Please...”

“Big words, princess. What...” Spank. “Do you...” Another spank. “Want?”

“I want... I want you...” I forced, breathlessly.

“You want me? What do you want me to do, princess?” Jerome teased, tracing a finger along my burning entrance, just barely touching me.

“Please... Make me feel good, Jerome... Make me cum.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes...”

“Are you gonna do as I say?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Exactly as I say?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Just please...Jerome.”

I couldn’t take it any longer. I felt so pathetic and needy. I needed him to touch me.

“So desperate.” He giggled sadistically. I supposed he loved seeing me beg.

Then, finally, he spread me open and dove his tongue deep into my wanting warmth. I closed my eyes and bit down hard on my lip as he swirled his tongue around inside me. I wanted to grab his hair and feel it in my fingers, but all I could do was squeeze my fists together in empty frustration.

Jerome grabbed a hand full of my ass, gripping it tightly, digging his nails in and rose his other hand to my pelvis front, pulling me down further onto his tongue. I squealed, a delightful mixture of pleasure and also pain from the tugging on my aching forearms. He ran his front hand down to play with my swollen clit, circling his fingers around beautifully.

He grinded his face deeply into me, sliding his tongue up, down, around and around inside me. He pressed his fingers down harder on my clit, forcing a loud moan out of me. I felt the pressure inside me build, coiling and tightening like a burning spring. I squeezed my thighs around his head in a desperate attempt to pull him deeper, his tongue nestling inside finding all of my sweet spots and lighting them on fire.

I could feel myself ready, ready to burst. He was pulling an amazing orgasm out of me and I wanted nothing more than to just let it go. All it took was one more upward jolt of his head, pushing his tongue that last little bit deep enough to push me over. I screamed out in erotic pleasure, letting the feeling flood me like warm water. My back arched and my legs convulsed until I withered, letting myself dangle from my cuffs in a breathless defeat.

Jerome slid his tongue out of me and pulled his face back away.

“You sing so pretty, dollface. Like a little birdie.” He said, squeezing the flesh off my ass.

He gave me one more light bite and a spank, before he rose back up to stand, snaking his hands along my sides all the way. He let his hands wander up to cup my breasts, massaging them softly. He leaned in close and began leaving wet kisses in the crook of my neck. I shuddered, his touch sending a cool tingle down my spine. He let his hands squeeze my breasts slightly harder, then pulled away and crept back around in front of me.

He stood facing me, his eyes locked on mine. They seemed to burn holes right into my flesh, creating a sense of fear in me. I was scared of Jerome Valeska, I truly was. But everything he was doing to me right now... The way he touched me, kissed me. I wondered how he managed it. How he was able to both terrify and arouse me in equal amounts.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t register his hand rising until it was firmly wrapped around my throat. He leaned down to kiss me, dominating my mouth with his tongue, making me taste myself. Once again, I felt the familiar warmth build in my core as I sensed we were not quite done here. He finished the kiss with a little nip to my bottom lip.

“Are you scared of me, doll?” He purred.

I swallowed hard, unsure if truth was wise here. Then I felt him increase the pressure around my throat, not wanting to wait for an answer.

“Yes.” I breathed.

“Good.” He said through an evil smirk.

He crashed his lips to mine once again, his free hand picking up my thigh to wrap around him. I locked both my legs around his waist, wanting to feel him close against me. I felt his erection hard, under his clothes, grinding into me and I wanted it. Badly. He pulled away from the kiss, leaving his taste on my tongue and raised his hand from my throat to grab hold of my face. He took his other hand away from my thigh and pulled at his tie. I didn’t drop my legs this time, instead I gripped tighter as he slid his tie from around his neck and scrunched it in his fist.

“Open your mouth.” He ordered.

I did as he said and he smiled, before spitting into my open lips and gagging me with his tie. I’d never had anyone do that before and it shocked me a little, but then again, I’d never had anyone like Jerome Valeska before.

He backed up slightly, just enough for him to reach down and unzip his trousers and pull down his underwear, freeing his erection. I couldn’t help but look down at it. It was bigger than any I’d taken before and I wasn’t sure how prepared I was. He started to slowly stroke himself, lifting up my chin to look at me.

He gently stroked a single finger across my jaw and then, suddenly, landed a harsh slap across my cheek. I yelped at the slap, causing a dangerous smile to form on Jeromes mouth. I should’ve been repulsed by him. He killed people and was aroused by my pain and fear, so why was I so attracted to him?

He angled himself underneath me so he was lined up and ready. He wrapped his hand back around my throat and then pushed forwards into me, causing us both to let out deep moans.

“You like that?”

I nodded and whimpered through the material of the tie. Jerome giggled darkly and with his free hand, gripped onto my waist.

“Brace yourself, princess.” He warned, through a poisonous smile.

He pulled back slowly, until he was almost completely out of me and then, like a bullet, ploughed himself right back in, jolting me backwards with force. He continued his thrusting rough and fast, making me whimper and bite down hard on the tie. I closed my legs tightly around him, pulling him closer and forcing him in deeper.

He let out a low, guttural groan and moved his hand upwards from my waist to slap me again, spitting at my face as he did so. I closed my eyes to endure the onslaught of him pounding inside me like a raging animal. I felt like a toy, dangling there for him to use as he liked, but still the searing pleasure of it all made me moan lustfully.

“Open those peepers, princess.” He commanded. “I want you to see exactly who’s in charge here.”

I opened my eyes and saw him grinning at me like a man possessed.

“You like this? You like me fucking you?” He growled, gripping my throat tighter.

All I could do was whimper and moan in response.

“I cuffed you and hung you up, hurt you, spat on you... even made you cry! And you still let me fuck you?” He laughed through shallow breaths. “You’re pathetic, you know that? A pathetic little whore.”

Jerome threw another slap at me and I felt myself tighten around his considerable length, taking him all deep inside me. He drove up into me like he was trying to break me open with his girth and I welcomed every inch of it.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He moaned.

I clenched my walls around him, the feeling of being filled by him sending flutters through me as he pushed in deeper and laughed.

“I don’t think your pussy ever wants to let me go, doll!” He grinned. “But I already know you like taking my cock like this, cause you’re such a good girl for me... I like that.”

I flushed at his words. I didn’t know why, but it made me feel good to please him and, in that moment, I would have done anything for him. I could feel my ecstasy creeping up on me, like magma rising inside a volcano. I cried out wantonly, the heat rising as he worked me, exploring every detail of my canal with his thick shaft.

He let go of my throat and moved both his hands to grab onto my ass and squeezed, steadying me so he could pound me harder and climb to release. His thrusts became erratic and sloppy and I could tell he was just as close as I was. I moaned loudly as he rammed into me harder and faster, burying himself deeper and making my arousal burn.

I could feel it coming, so close. I was about to boil over and all I needed was him. Just him. He continued thrusting like a raging animal, digging his nails into my flesh and scraping them along my ass, stinging sweetly. I whimpered at the sensation and tightened my legs.

“Cum for me, doll.” He panted. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

He plunged into me, pushing the magma higher and just so close to bursting. It was coming. I could feel it.

He pounded again. So close. Again and again, so hard inside me. Just a little more...

I screamed out, closing my eyes and letting everything go. The feeling of my orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave of pure elation. My whole body shook from the force of it and I trembled like a leaf. Jerome continued to thrust into me until he too reached his climax. He growled like a beast and I felt him throb, releasing his hot load of sticky lust deep inside me.

We both relaxed, catching our breath and he stared down into my eyes. He unlatched his hands from the flesh of my ass and brought one round to gently stroke my cheek with his fingertips. It was quiet, but only for a minute.

He threw his head back and laughed like the madman he was, before pulling out of me and stepping back. My legs dropped to the floor and he began to put himself away and zip his trousers back up.

“Well, that was fantastic, dollface. Thanks for playing nice with me.” He said, throwing me a wink.

There was a loud metallic knock at the truck doors and I guessed whoever it was, was trying to get Jeromes attention.

“It’s been fun princess, really. But time waits for no man and I’ve got a party to attend” He said, smiling at me. “Well, more like crash.”

When he turned to leave, I tried to speak, but all that came out was intelligible muttering. He wasn’t going to leave me here, dangling, half naked and gagged like this? Was he? He began walking to the truck doors and I tried to call out.

“Oh! Wait, almost forgot.”

I felt a flood of relief when he began walking back to me.

“I’m gonna need this back.” He said and pulled the tie out of my mouth.

I was glad to finally be rid of it, but my joy was short lived, because he was starting to leave again.

“Hey...” I croaked; my mouth dry.

“Yeah, I’ll have someone come get you later.” He said, too nonchalantly for my liking. “For now, you can just... well, why don’t you just hang out?”

He laughed at his joke and opened the doors.

“Hey! You can’t leave me here!” I tried to shout, but my throat was too dry.

And then... he was gone. He really did just leave me alone, half naked in the back of a truck. How long would it be before someone found me? An hour? Two? The rest of the day?

All alone with my thoughts now, I decided the only thing to do now was wait. Wait and try and go over what the hell just happened between me and Jerome Valeska.

[divinegrey]

CHANGE / jinx x f!reader

THE VANISHER SERIES, part 11, the epilogue

masterlist here

SIKE! y'all thought I was done making you cry? think again.

prompt: some conversations need to be had, but in the end, you feel better than you ever had, in the wake of so much misery and pain.

words: 2124

warnings: mentions of trauma, cursing

“It’s even prettier from up here. Look, you can see all the enforcers losing their shit over there,” Jinx says, pointing to where you can barely see the speck of blue-uniformed individuals running towards the collapsing Hexgates. “Oh, they’re going to feel this one for a long time.”

She’s sitting to your left. In the aftermath of everything, she took you back to where it all really started. The rooftop where you spent your nights playing cards. You hadn’t realized it before, but the city looks so small from up here.

You shake out your foot, pins and needles spreading in your toes. It’s been happening all over your body.

“How can you even see that?” you ask, arching your eyebrow.

“You—” she sighs. “Give it a few hours. Happened to me after I got stabbed with the needle.” Jinx rubs her hands on the fabric of her pants a few times. She turns to look at you hesitantly. “How’re you… feeling?”

“Like I got speared with a piece of rebar, then went to space, and then crashed back down on Runeterra,” you reply, putting your hand over the spot below your sternum that the metal went through. “Have you ever felt your diaphragm being shot?”

Jinx blinks. “Nope.”

“Well, that’s the only thing I could compare it to,” you say. From down below, there’s shouting in the streets. The kind of shouting where it might either devolve into rioting or people might just start celebrating. It’s hard to tell. The people of Zaun have never liked Piltover— seeing the posh Piltovans get knocked down a peg by Jinx’s rocket is certainly doing something.

Jinx scoots closer. It’s tentative. Ever since walking away from the warehouse where all of this began for Jinx, there’s been an air of something between you two, something that needs to be talked about. She curls her hands around your arm and rests her head on your shoulder. You put your hand on her thigh, stroking the fabric with your thumb.

“That was one hell of a rocket launcher you made,” you say, looking at the plumes of smoke rising from the Hexgates. “You didn’t shoot the Council chamber. I… still don’t understand.”

Jinx doesn’t reply for some time, but you feel her hands tracing shapes on your sleeve. “I… lived for so long with Silco that I knew that all he wanted was for Piltover to burn. He— he would’ve stopped at nothing to get revenge and I bought into it.”

“He abused you.”

“Yeah,” Jinx whispers. “He did, didn’t he?”

“It’s hard to accept that,” you say, shaking your head. “We don’t really see it until someone else shows us the truth.”

“When did you recognize that Yelora was… you know,” Jinx makes a gesture of putting a gun to her head and firing it, a little sound effect of a pop! coming from her lips. You sit on that question for some time, mulling the thousands of responses you could say in return. When did you realize Yelora was your tormentor as much as she was your mentor?

“I started seeing her face everywhere,” you tell Jinx. “Long after I killed her. She was always around, always in a corner looking at me. Everywhere I looked, I could see her somehow. I hated seeing her. She controlled me everywhere I went.”

“Is she still with you?”

The question is genuine.

You turn your head to your right. When you blink, there she is, waiting in the wings for you, like she always has. Yelora tilts her head at you, her face impassive.

“Yeah,” you say, but not to Jinx. To the image of Yelora, you continue, “But I don’t want her in my head anymore. I don’t want anyone in my head, I want it to be mine.”

Yelora’s pristine, untouched face begins to crack, growing ashen and grey. Flecks come off her skin, and you watch as the woman who made who you are fades. Slowly, but with time, you hope she’ll be gone completely.

Jinx hums. “I don’t want Mylo and Claggor in my head anymore either.”

“It gets tiring sharing the space with other people, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah!” Jinx laughs. “They should start paying rent! They’re due on, like, seven years of it! Ha! You know how many sweets we could buy with seven years of rent?”

“I’ll buy you all the sweets you want,” you say. “I barely spent any of the money I ever got from my jobs. It’s all sitting in my offshore accounts.”

“Oh, are you rich? Are you gonna spoil me?”

“Hm, maybe.” You squeeze Jinx’s thigh, your mood turning serious. “Jinx… we’ve changed.”

She rests her arms on your shoulder, looking at your side profile intently. “Obviously.”

“Let me continue, please,” you say to her. She nods. “We’ve changed. If you hadn’t made that choice to jab me with the shimmer shit, I wouldn’t be here with you now. So thank you, truly. I won’t ever be able to repay you for that.”

“You don’t need to, toots.”

“Thank you for freeing me,” you say. Jinx pulls back to look at you with a range of emotions passing her features, but at the forefront, shock and surprise, shown in the way her eyebrows are raised. You make a gesture to the city. “You were there for me when I confided in you about Yelora and everything else that I’d done. You didn’t run away. I kept myself so locked down from my own emotions because it was what Yelora taught me to do. She beat it into me.”

Jinx smiles, her lips quivering. “Vanny…

“I took that name with pride, you know. The Vanisher. But… I don’t think I want to be the Vanisher anymore. There’s so much weight to that name.” You exhale. When your lungs compress, there’s a pinch below your ribs. Ouch. Still healing that hole, then. You wonder if that pain will be there forever. It’s a trade-off you’re willing to accept. “You and I… we had other names. We got new ones. We didn’t get to choose them though, did we?”

Jinx turns her body towards you, stroking your jaw. “I like the name Jinx. It’s me. Do you… want to change your name?”

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. “I wish I could remember who I was before. I think for now I’ll stick with Van. You can still call me Vanny, of course.”

“Van,” Jinx repeats, grinning. “I love that.”

You don’t realize how light your shoulders feel when you say it on the tip of your tongue. Van. It might be a relic of who you were before, but Van feels more symbolic. It might not be as cool as the Vanisher, and people will never stop calling you that. Never. When all that you are is the Vanisher, people would be hard-pressed to forget that.

But to the people who care, the people who will call you Van… that might be enough.

“What are you going to do now?” You ask. Jinx puts her finger on her chin and taps it thoughtfully.

“Well, considering that we did just blow up the Hexgates and throw the entire city into chaos, I think we may need to lay low for a bit.” Jinx purses her lips. “That is, if you’re planning to stick with me, toots.”

You put your other hand on her face, pushing away some stray hairs that have fallen from her braids. “I’ll go with you. But I think it’s safe to say we both need to, uh, for lack of a better word, unfuck our brains a little bit. At least, I’m going to try and undo that. Push Yelora out once and for all.”

“You can say that again,” Jinx replies, bumping your shoulder. She grabs the edge of the building you both sit on, leaning over to look at the streets. There are drinking songs being sung below. "I'm going to try too. It's going to take a hell of a long time."

“No kidding." You snort. "For me, I think,” you start by turning your forearms out and extending the blades. “I think it’s time I get rid of these.”

“Really?”

“Would you be interested in helping me make new ones?”

Jinx’s eyes light up. “Wait, really? You’re serious?”

You nod.

“Ohmygod, Van! I have so many ideas, I just didn’t have enough time when you gave me one of those— we could do so many things, we could add projectiles onto those! Could you imagine just aiming and pew! Needle to the neck!” Jinx pauses, then laughs a bit awkwardly, glancing at you through her bang when she sees the raised eyebrows on your face. “Heh, too soon?”

“A little bit, my neck still hurts, actually,” you say, rubbing your thumb over the sore spot where the syringe went. You think Jinx might’ve hit one of the tendons, but you don’t blame her.

You pull your sleeve back to the simple, unmodified hidden blade. You loosen the straps and pull it off.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any grenades on you, would you?” You ask, just out of curiosity.

“Not on me, no, but—” Jinx leans over to a pile of trash, shoots her hand in, and pulls one out. “I have spares!”

The idea of Jinx having her grenades stored in random places is concerning, but also really fucking funny. You make a mental note to look around more. You take the grenade and tie the straps of the blade to it.

“Pull the pin,” you tell her. Jinx looks at the grenade, her fingers itching, but she shakes her head.

“You should be the one to do it,” Jinx says softly. She kisses your cheek. “You do it, Van.”

Your name from her lips sounds like a heavenly prayer. When you wrap your finger on the pin, something in your body stops you. Do you really want to destroy this piece of yourself?

Yes.

Because it was never you. It was Yelora.

And you don’t want Yelora anymore.

You rip the pin off and hurl the grenade as far you can into the sky. It goes further— much further than you expected, thanks to the boost of newfound strength provided by the shimmer serum in your blood. Jinx is counting under her breath and right before she gets to one she raises her arms into the air.

KABOOM!

“YEAH BABY!” Jinx screams, followed by cackling. She rolls herself into your lap, pressing kisses all over your face. It wasn’t a fucking grenade. It was a goddamn firework. The resulting show of sparkles is a haze of blue and purple, enough to make your heart sing. Your entire body feels lighter, watching the pieces of your past fracture and fall to the ground.

Free.

What a nice feeling.

“I love you so much,” you say to Jinx, holding her tightly (primarily to make sure she doesn’t fall over the edge). Jinx holds your head in your hands and the smile on her lips is radiant.

“I love you more, Vanny,” Jinx replies softly, just as the remains of the blue and purples sparkles of the firework fall around you like neon rain. It feels more than instinctual to kiss her tenderly, with all the emotion you can bring from your chest forth into your lips. Her arms wrap around your neck and she cradles you like you’re the world to her.

You hold each other for some time. You feel peace. Comfort. You feel hopeful.

You’ll never be able to get rid of the things you’ve done. You doubt you’ll stop, either. This world is a hard one, you have to do things to survive.

Jinx pulls away abruptly, a look of excitement teeming on her face. “Oh! Do you want to go back to my hideout, destroy everything with bombs, then go play some cards after?”

You smile and nod. “I would love nothing more.”

Jinx hops off of your lap and helps you get to your feet. You feel her hand brush over the bare space of your right arm, over the marks that made themselves permanent in your skin after wearing Yelora’s hidden blade for so long.

Jinx starts walking away, holding your hand, but you take a moment to look over your shoulder at the city of Zaun, then on the other side of the river, Piltover.

They’ll regret ever having fucked with you.

But that can come later. You go with Jinx willingly to the Undercity.

You were born in Piltover. You became a Zaunite.

Your name is Van.

You’re working on it, but you’re trying.

One day, you’ll be free. Yelora will be nothing but a fragment, broken and destroyed, in the back of your mind.

You’ll be Van, and you’ll be free.

~~~~~

A/N: okay, NOW we're done. seriously. that's it. no more. sappy post later.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part IV

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, all characters are adults.

Words: 1880.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

_________

After you came back to your room, you got a message from Steve about changing the locks on both you door and your locker. You were so taken aback by today's conversation in the student council room that you had completely forgotten about it. Apparently, Steve had already requested the change of locks on your behalf through email, and you were really grateful to him for that: you dreaded coming back to the room that had been forced open. Of course, tonight you would have to move your dresser to the door so that nobody could enter when you'd be sleeping.

Shit. It was absolutely crazy.

"I'm not sure about all this, Steve." You texted him while laying on your bed and staring at your phone in the darkness of the room. "It doesn't seem right."

Naturally, you meant the fake dating thing. It felt horrible thinking of what others would think after seeing you with five different guys. Would they be calling you a whore in the open? Make some nasty jokes behind your back? Report you to the school administration for immoral behavior? Remembering those bigots from the student office, you cringed at the thought.

Besides, it still didn't make sense to you why you had to date all five. Sure, if they were around you at all times like your friends, these unhinged bastards who stole your things wouldn't do anything funny again, but it wasn't like that. What could one guy do against a group of other students?

"Listen, I didn't want to talk about it in class, but I'm worried it won't end with a stolen lingerie."

You didn't like his message.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. They might attempt something much worse than a theft."

Oh no. Was he talking about rape? Seriously? Did he anticipate others were so crazy they would do something like that?

But then again, girls were being raped in colleges even if it weren't the all-boys schools. A shiver ran down your spine.

"But if several people attack me, just one of you won't be enough." You typed with your shaky fingers, trembling beneath your blanket.

"It's not about the pure force. Each of us has a certain reputation, and others wouldn't want to cross us over because of it."

Wait, this was interesting. What on Earth did he mean? What kind of reputation was that to prevent people from messing with them?

"Thor is a good athlete and a great leader, his basketball team is ready to beat people to death for him."

"Loki's father is one of academy’s main sponsors, and he can have this school turned upside down if he wants to."

"Bucky is a threat by himself, but he also have a company of loyal friends."

"I don't think Peter is serious enough to scare anyone, but with his computer skills he could easily blackmail others, I’ve already seen him doing it. Students would be wary to cross him over just like any of us."

Steve was writing you a bunch of messages with a terrifying speed, and you could barely read the first when he was already sending you the second. It felt absolutely insane. Did he choose every guy because the more powerful admirers you have, the less others would intervene? Well, at least in case of Bucky and Thor who could beat people to near death, it was wise. You preferred not to think of Peter - you had no idea someone as sweet and caring as him did something as disgusting as a blackmail.

“But what others will think? 5 boyfriends? Others will think you are dating-” you paused, chewing your lips to bit, “- a whore. Nobody gonna stood up for me.”

"Imagine if each of us tells our friends that other four guys were just asked to watch over you, but you date only one.”

Oh. Yes, this was slightly better. Then you wouldn’t have to do something as bold as kissing every guy in public, instead maintaining the mystery who you were really dating. 

Damn, how Steve even came up with this plan? Why was everything so complicated?

“It’s getting late. Good night.” Your phone vibrated again, and you huffed with irritation. You hoped you could ask him a bit more - about what you were going to do with the thieves Steve found, for example - but he was probably getting tired with all your questions. It was better to ask him tomorrow.

___________________

The next morning you were restless: since you were starting to going out with guys, you felt like you needed to look better than you usually were, so you spent your morning working on your hair and makeup. It was like fake dating, right? You had to pretend you wanted to look pretty for them.

What else did you have to do? Cook something sweet for them? Yeah, probably, but not at the start of your relationship. Going to cafe together? Helping each other study? Loki also mentioned the cinema...

You felt dumb. Of course, you dated guys before, but now you realized you had no idea how to act not to cause any suspicion. Oh boy, it was going to be a tough day.

Thor nocked at you door thirty minutes before your first session, but you woke up so early you were more than ready to go. As you opened the door, first moving the dresser back to its place, the guy looked at you with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Hey, what was that?"

"The dresser. I can't leave the door just like that until the lock is changed."

He blinked at you, watching the door and then probably remembering somebody forced the lock open to steal your underwear.

"These guys are batshit crazy." He mumbled and nodded you to go with him, putting his hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, they won't do it again."

You wanted to argue they definitely would, but, seeing his warm smile, you thought Thor simply wanted to cheer you up and smiled at him in return. In the end, he was here only to make you feel safer: you didn't doubt he was very popular with the girls every time he went out to the city.

"You look great today!" He said sheepishly, walking in the dorm's corridor while other students were staring at him silently, obviously surprised to see you two together. "I mean, not that you looked bad yesterday, I just..."

Watching his face suddenly getting crimson red, you couldn't help but giggle at his expression. You could never think Thor was actually bashful around girls. Yeah, at your old place he'd definitely be one of the most popular guys around.

It was lunch time when you two could actually talk, sitting together at the same table and being watched by everyone around. Strangely, with Thor constantly talking and often rubbing your hand with his, it didn't feel suffocating, and you held your head high: regardless whether those pricks were looking at you, you weren't going to run away to your room and cry there like a little girl. Loki was right: you weren't a silly little sheep, scared of your own shadow. You wouldn't let anyone spoil your time in the academy you dreamt studying in.

Funny enough, Thor turned out to be a talkative type when he was speaking about basketball and his team in particular. He loved sports: while you were more into hockey, the way he talked was so enthusiastic it made you listen to him with a genuine interest. Thor's love for basketball was infectious.

He seemed a simple man, this giant bag of muscles who was laughing so loud people around him flinched; Thor wasn't the exact type of a guy you would encounter on your own, but he seemed nice, sincere, and surprisingly softhearted. You felt at ease talking to him, and soon you too acted like you'd known each other for long.

It was a pity you'd only met under this circumstances. It felt like you two could became friends.

But then when Thor absent-mindedly put his arm around your shoulders, you remembered Loki's warning: they would try to gain your favors. Was it the reason Thor was so nice to someone he just met? Wasn't it suspicious of him? You couldn't let your guard down after just one lunch together. In fact, you knew nothing of the man sitting in front of you.

"I knew something like would happen." Some guy to your left sighed loudly, catching your attention. "They were fucking crazy."

"I'm not surprised either. I just wanna know who they got in a fight with to be beaten like that. Have you heard they broke Gray's both legs?"

"Woah, both? That's brutal, man."

You shivered, trying not to listen to them.

"It'd happen sooner or later anyway. They were completely wild."

A word caught your attention right away: that was what Steve called those students who were stealing your things. Could it be a coincidence? Surely, in an all-boys school the students were fighting each other constantly.

But to the point of breaking both legs of someone? Really?

As you sent Thor a nervous look, he gently patted your shoulder, lowering his voice so no one would hear him, "I'm sure it's nothing to do with you. These things happen here from time to time because the guys have no idea what to do with all that testosterone."

You hoped he was right.

The rest of the day went as usual aside from Thor walking the corridors with you and chatting about sports: he managed to convince you to come see the game next month when they would be having a tournament. You were grateful to him for helping to ease your mind because the news of guys being sent to the ambulance made you shook. Steve also mentioned something about his and other's friends ready to beat anyone to death, right?

By the middle of your last class you couldn't think of it any longer and quickly typed a message to Loki. Of all people, right now he seemed the most sincere to you.

"Hi. Are the guys who were beaten last night are the ones who stole my things?"

Waiting was a special torture when you held the phone in your arms beneath your desk, hoping to see your screen lighting up with a message. In five minutes you got your reply.

"Yes." The message said simply, but it was enough for you to stare at your phone with horror, wishing you didn't ask Loki anything.

Oh shit. It wasn't a coincidence, right? It's impossible. Somebody did it on purpose. But who of the five?

"Do you know who did it?"

Next time he answered pretty fast, "No."

A part of you felt relieved. Maybe it wasn't related, finally. Maybe they got beaten by somebody who was fed up with their attitude because they were crazy as the guys in the cafeteria said.

But what if it weren't true?

"Who's the most brutal among you five?"

Biting your lips, you started rocking in your chair a little, making the guy on your left to roll his eyes in irritation.

The phone's screen flashed again.

"Barnes."

Part V

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @stupendouslovegardener @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic

[xjoonchildx]

last call | jjk x reader

pairing: jungkook x reader

rating: 18+

word count: 4.4K

synopsis: jeon jungkook is the hottest bartender in the city. everyone has their sights set on him, but it seems he has his sights set on you.

warnings: oral (female receiving), protected sex, jungkook thirst, excessive jungkook thirst, hello we’re talking about jungkook here -- there is a jungkook-sized amount of thirst, unsanitary use of a space designated for food and beverage

A/N: this fic is a commission for the @ficswithluv​ special project “Changes with Luv”. The awesome @dee-ehn​ made a donation to BLM for this fic and she asked for sexy times with long-haired JK with tattoos and dammit that’s what she’s gonna get.  Thanks so much for making the donation, this is a cool way for authors like me to pitch in for an important cause!

*********************

Jeon Jungkook is the sexiest man in this city.

That’s not a matter of opinion, that’s an actual fact -- voted into law by you and the rest of the Council of The Thirsty after a night of downing shots at The Black Swan.  The four of you piled into the bar’s single-stall restroom to check lipstick and chat shit and it was decided, that was that.

The Black Swan is open long after the other nearby bars and restaurants have locked up for the night. After the tables have been cleared and the tips have been counted, it’s where just about everyone who works in the service industry in this part of town ends up for a post-shift nightcap. They’re drawn by the late hours and the strong drinks and, well --

Jeon Jungkook.

On any given night, his bar is packed with flirts -- men and women alike -- all hoping for just a taste of his attention.  You can’t blame them, really.  It’s far too easy to get lost in Jungkook’s massive, dark eyes, or that slow, confident smile.  And it’s far too hard to look away when he tucks an errant strand of inky hair behind his ear or when he rolls his sleeves up to reveal those toned forearms covered with tattoos.

Jungkook works his bar with the confidence of a man who understands his magnetism, a man who understands why people get sucked into his orbit and never want to leave. 

Suckers just like you.

*************************

Jägermeister is totally fucking disgusting and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

You’ve just bellied up to the bar to grab a drink when Jeon Jungkook drops a shot of the foul shit right in front of you.  The look you give him is equal parts confused and revolted.

“What’s this?” 

“Oh, come on,” he teases with a smile, “You work at a bar.  Don’t tell me you don’t recognize a shot of Jäger.”

“Oh, I recognize it,” you tease back. “I just refuse to acknowledge it.  Who sent this to me?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes playfully, pulls another shot glass from under the bar and pours himself a shot of the dark, thick liqueur.

He holds it up in the air and waits for you to do the same.

“I did.”

Your eyebrows shoot sky-high in surprise.  Jeon Jungkook buying you a shot? 

You’re probably just in the right place at the right time, you reason. The lucky recipient of a free drink because he’s in the mood to get one, too.  

Or unlucky, you correct yourself -- looking down at the glass.  But one more look at Jungkook and you know there’s no way you’re going to refuse the offering.  

You’re picky, but you’re damned sure not stupid.

You raise your shot glass in the air and Jungkook looks pleased.

“Bottoms up,” he says, eyes twinkling.

***********************

Something strange happens a few nights later.  

You’re seated at a high-top near the bar with your girlfriends when you hear Jungkook call something out across the room.  Your friends freeze, wide eyes and shocked stares focused on you for one awkward moment.

He says it again, this time louder -- and there’s no mistaking it.

It’s your name.

You ignore the frantic whispering of your girlfriends and stand up from your seat at the high-top to approach Jungkook’s bar.  He’s leaned over it, hands bracing the dark wood -- pen tucked neatly behind his ear.  His long dark hair is pulled back into a glossy knot, but one lock has fallen into his eyes.  

He looks insanely good -- but honestly, what’s new?

You clear your throat before you approach so you don’t croak your way through whatever comes next.  Spine straight, you get close, slide into a barstool and do your best to appear casual.

“What’s up?” 

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna threaten you with any more shots of Jäger,” he laughs, flashing his million-watt smile.  You smile back, hoping he can’t hear the holy shits and what the fucks flying at the table behind you.  “I’ve got something else for you tonight.”

“Okay,” you breathe, dazzled by the personal attention he’s bestowing on you.  “What’s on the menu?”

Jungkook reaches for two fresh shot glasses and pulls a heavy amber bottle from the well behind his bar.

“Grand Marnier,” you answer for him, watching as he pours you both a shot.  “An upgrade from Jäger, that’s for sure,” you tease.

He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the most goddamned adorable way possible.  “I figured this might be more your speed.”

Figured how? As far as you know, he doesn’t know a thing about you -- apart from the fact that you usually drink a vodka tonic.

And your name, apparently.  How does he know your name, anyway?

“Cheers,” he says in that low, sexy voice, and you shiver.

“Cheers,” you agree, tongue swiping at the taste of the sweet liqueur on your lips.  

Jungkook’s eyes darken for a split-second and heat creeps up your neck.

“So, um -- how do you know my name?”

You can thank the alcohol for giving you the courage to ask.  Sober you wouldn’t be nearly so forward.

Jungkook shrugs.  “I’ve seen it on your credit card.”

“Ah,” you smile.  “Well, thanks, again.  Next time, I’ll be the one buying, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” he grins.

But as you’re walking back to your table something dawns on you.  

You turn and head back to the bar.

“Hold on a second,” you say, eyes narrowed at Jungkook.  “I’ve never paid with a credit card here.  I always pay my tab in cash.”

“Hmmm,” he murmurs -- and fuck if the slow smile that spreads across his features doesn’t make your panties wet right then and there.  

“Is that right?”

**************************

“Jeon Jungkook wants to fuck you.”

“For the love of God, Tifa,” you hiss, ducking your head.  “Keep your voice down.  Jungkook and every last one of his ancestors can hear you when you’re talking that loud.”

Tifa shrugs, unbothered.

“I said what I said,” she sniffs, checking for non-existent dirt under her nails.  “You see any of us getting free shots from The Golden One? Or any of the other women in here, for that matter?”

Well, she’s kind of got a point there, doesn’t she?

You have no idea why you seem to have captured Jeon Jungkook’s attention, but you’re not going to question it, that’s for sure. You’re going to enjoy your good fortune while it lasts.

“He’s being nice,” you argue, and even you aren’t buying it the second the lame deflection comes out of your mouth.  Tifa rolls her eyes.

“You know what else would be nice? Getting dicked down by the hottest man in town.  Wouldn’t that be nice?”

You sigh.  

It would be, actually.  The part of your brain that entertains such outlandish fantasies has been working overtime these days, imagining exactly what that would be like.  Imagining the body that lies underneath that sinfully fitted shirt and the almost-too-tight-but-not-quite jeans.  

Jungkook certainly walks and talks and moves like a man who knows exactly what he’s doing in bed.  You’d love nothing more than to know if there’s any truth to that theory.

You chance a glance over your shoulder, back to the bar -- and Jungkook is deep in conversation with a patron.  She’s leaning over the bar, practically throwing herself at the man, but he looks away from her to catch sight of you.  His picture-perfect face breaks into a wide smile and you break into a sweat.

“See what I mean?” Tifa asks, brow raised when you turn back to face her.  “The man is trying to fuck you.  I’ll be right here after he does, waiting to say I told you so.”

You sputter a laugh into the rim of your glass.

“We’ll see about that, T.”

*************************

Nothing ruins the end of a night of drinking quite like last call.

All the fun screeches to a halt when the house lights come on.  No one looks good under the harsh fluorescents that hum to life as tabs are being paid and drinks are being slammed and tables are being wiped -- no one.

Well, no one except for Jeon Jungkook, of course.

He’s in the weeds tonight -- trying to settle tabs for at least twenty people all trying to cash out at the same time.  He nods in your direction to confirm he’s seen you, that he’ll get to you -- that eventually you’ll get your chance to pay.

So you wait.  And wait.

The crowd starts to thin as Jungkook closes tabs at top speed -- tip jar flush with obscene amounts of cash.  No one tips better than people who make a living on them -- and tonight is no exception.  From what you can tell it’s been a good night for Jungkook.  

Hell, every night is probably a good night when you’re Jeon Jungkook.

You sip what’s left of your vodka tonic and scroll through your phone while you patiently wait for your turn -- then promptly lose track of time.

How long have you been sitting here? 

It’s only when your ears pick up on the echo in this place that you look up from the screen.  Jungkook is cashing some guy out -- and as you take a look around you realize this guy must be the last person in this place. 

Correction -- you are the last person in this place, or at least you will be in about thirty seconds. 

Your pulse picks up as Jungkook wraps the transaction and sends the guy out the door with a friendly wave.  You’re definitely the only two people left in The Black Swan now, no doubt.

“So uh -- ” you drag the sound out on a nervous breath, “ -- I still need to pay my tab.”

Jungkook flips the house lights back off before sauntering to your end of the bar, wearing his most dangerous smile. He dries his hands with the towel at his waist then sets it aside.

“Your tab was paid hours ago.”

Oh.

“Because you paid it,” you say slowly, forcing yourself to drag your eyes from the man’s muscled thighs and trim waist to his flawless face.  Your heart stops a bit at the smirk you find when you finally get there.

“Yup.”

You grab for what’s left of your vodka tonic and slug it down.  

Jungkook laughs.

“You want me,” he says, fingers working the top buttons of his fitted shirt open.  You watch with wide eyes, so distracted by the action that you barely process what he’s said.

“Wait, what?” you ask in a daze.

“You want me,” he repeats casually, like it’s no big deal.  His fingers stop only a few buttons down, the tease -- but he chooses that same moment to pull his hair out of the loose knot he’s been wearing all night.  The dark strands fall into his face and you stare like a moron.

“What makes you say that?” you ask, weakly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jungkook teases.  “My vision is 20/20.  My hearing is pretty good, too -- though it would be pretty hard not to overhear the things you and your friends say about me.”

Dammit, Tifa, I told you to keep your voice down.

“Yikes,” you murmur on a shaky laugh.  “That’s embarrassing.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” he says with no hesitation.  “‘Cause I want you, too.”

You pull back from the bar so far, your stool nearly tips over. Jungkook waits for you to right yourself in amused silence.  Then he waits for you to speak.

“I’m, I  -- “ you sputter, searching for things like words and thoughts.  Jungkook’s brows lift as he awaits whatever is on the other end of that sentence.  “ -- I think I need another drink.”

Jungkook winks before reaching down to pull glasses from under the bar.  He sets a brown bottle with a familiar orange label down beside them.  You hold your breath when you see him walk out from behind the bar to slide into the stool next to yours.

“Fireball,” you say thickly, watching him pour the cinnamon liqueur into the shot glasses.  He nods, handing you your glass.

“Think this will help?” he asks, smiling wickedly.  

“No way to know but to do it,” you smile back.

You clink the glasses together before draining them.

You can almost feel the alcohol working its way through your veins.  The warm burn of it starts in your throat, slides low into your belly and spreads out through your arms and legs.  

“Think that did the trick?” he asks in a low voice, dark eyes fixed on your every move.  He leans closer.

“I don’t know,” you admit. He’s close enough now you can smell the warm cinnamon on his breath.  Between the booze and the hormones, you’re starting to feel a little reckless.  “That depends.  Are you trying to fuck me in this bar?”

“Absolutely,” Jungkook deadpans.  You suck in a breath.

“Then I think we’ll probably need one more.”

Jungkook chuckles as he refills your glasses.  His eyes glint with unconcealed mischief when you knock the second round back.  This time, the warmth that spreads down your throat seems to pool between your thighs.

You dip the pad of one finger into the remnants left in the shotglass, emboldened by the buzz you can feel coming on.  Jungkook watches rapt as you slip it between your lips.  You are weightless and shameless by now, more than prepared for the moment he slips two fingers under your jaw to tip your mouth up towards his.  

He tastes like the pleasant spice in the alcohol and he smells like sweat and bodywash and your senses are overwhelmed.  Your fingers dive right into his hair, desperate to feel the silky strands between your fingertips.

“Fireball was a good idea,” Jungkook groans between kisses, hands going to your back to pull you close.  You stand out of your barstool to position yourself between his thighs.  “I like the way you think.”

He pulls away to tug at the hem of your shirt. 

“Take this off,” he orders with a quiet authority that makes you desperate to comply. His eyes are heavy-lidded; glued to the nipples pebbling underneath the thin cotton.  You cross your arms across your body and lift the shirt over your head.

Jungkook doesn’t bother to take your bra off.  You jolt with surprise when he surges forward, mouth seeking the skin peeking out of the soft cups.  He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses across the heated flesh before leaning low to graze the outline of one nipple.  You jerk at the sensation -- at the way his lips and tongue and teeth make the fabric rub against the straining buds.

“Oh, God,” you hiss, “That feels good.”

Jungkook pushes the straps of your bra off your shoulders, eyes dark and focused when your breasts spill out of the cups and your nipples are exposed to the cool air in the bar.  You shudder.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, touching his tongue to your nipples now without a barrier.  You allow yourself to run your fingers through his hair again, anchoring yourself to him to keep steady in the onslaught.

It’s bad manners that you haven’t pulled yourself together enough to thank him for the compliment, but how can you be expected to think straight when his teeth are scraping against your nipples? 

Jungkook pauses to look up at you -- eyes smoldering, lips swollen with use -- and you squirm in his hold.  “You should take these jeans off,” he whispers, fingers slipping into the belt loops. He tugs at them gently. “I wouldn’t want them to get wet.”

Oh honey -- that ship has sailed.

You nod slowly and Jungkook leans back in his stool, eyes hooded as you unbutton the denim, slide it down your legs and step out of it.  

“You gonna take any clothes off, or am I the only one stripping tonight?” you tease, shivering at the loss of his body heat. 

A slow smile spreads over his face. “We’re getting to that, I promise.”

He reaches across the bar for the bottle of Fireball and your mouth falls open in surprise.

“Wait, are you gonna -- “

“Yeah,” he cuts in, dripping the cool liquid onto your breast.  His lips swipe at the liqueur that spills over your nipple and you groan out loud.  “I own this bar,” he teases, his warm tongue a stark contrast to the cold alcohol.  “I can do whatever I want in here.”

You certainly can.

He drips more of the liquid onto a nipple and watches with satisfaction as it slides down your skin.  He laps at the cinnamon taste as his hands roam the sensitive skin of your stomach and down to the band of your panties.  Your breath hitches in your chest.

“I can do whatever I want on here, too,” he smirks, nodding at the bar.  You laugh.

“You’re the boss, right?”

“Exactly,” Jungkook winks, before his hands drop to your waist. His grip is firm as he helps lift you on to the bartop. 

You brace your hands against the wood and watch as he slips his fingers under the satin seam of your panties.  In this position, you have a front-row seat to what is sure to be the hottest sexual experience of your life.  Jungkook’s brows knit in concentration and his tongue swipes across his lips as he pulls your soaking panties away from your legs.  The sight of him preparing to debauch you on top of his bar alone could make you come.

He steadies you with firm hands to either side of your hips before dipping his head down to test your taste with a light flick of his tongue.  You buck in his grasp and he muffles his laughter against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.  “You’re not allowed to fall off of my bar,” he teases.  “Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you laugh, fingertips gripping the bartop for dear life.  

Jungkook pulls his mouth away from your aching center and you damned near whine at the loss of his warmth.  But in a split-second he’s back, and so is the Fireball.  

“Just a little,” he rasps, tipping the bottle to the side.  You hiss as the frigid liquid seeps down into the crux of your thighs.  Jungkook purses his lips and blows a puff of air against you, sparking an intense tingling sensation and earning a loud whimper.  He’s satisfied with your response, if the look on his face is any indication  --  but his wicked smile disappears from view when he lowers his mouth to your center again.

“Fuck,” you gasp, head dropping back between your shoulders. “God, that feels good.”

“Tell me what it feels like,” he whispers, slipping one long, calloused finger into your channel.  The added sensation makes you whine when he swipes his tongue against your clit.  

“Like --,” you gasp and try again to formulate a thought. “Like fire and ice.”

He hums his approval of that assessment right into your cunt and you nearly break your promise not to fall off his bar.  Your arms are shaking with the same tension that is building between your legs. Jungkook pulls back to drip more of the Fireball onto your sensitive center and you shudder.

The alcohol burns a bit, a pleasant pain that is somehow heightened by Jungkook’s warm, wet mouth.  He doesn’t rush, seemingly content to take his time as you slowly come undone. 

“I’m so close,” you whimper, elbows threatening to buckle underneath you.  Jungkook finally picks up the pace, tonguing you deep as your thighs tighten in anticipation.

“I can feel how bad you want to come, sweetheart,” he goads, finger crooking inside of you, stimulating that spot that makes you feel like you can’t see straight.  “Do it.”

The moans Jungkook pulls from you in those final seconds are made all the more obscene by the echoing inside this empty bar.  Every muscle in your body tightens and then melts as your orgasm hits with the intensity of a freight train.  Jungkook seals his mouth over your cunt to capture the wetness he’s earned, prolonging the sensations, prolonging your moans. 

It takes a moment for the roar in your ears to subside, for your ability to focus to return.  When you can hear and see and think again, you look back down to the space between your thighs and find Jungkook wearing a look of utter satisfaction.

“Believe it or not, that’s the first time I’ve eaten pussy on top of my bar,” he teases, dimples emerging as his lips quirk into a smile.  “How has your service been tonight?”

“Pretty good,” you taunt, a lot ballsier with a few shots and an orgasm under your belt.  “Would be a hell of a lot better if my bartender would take his clothes off.”

Jungkook feigns a wounded look as his fingers work the rest of the buttons on his shirt open to reveal a tight white tank underneath.  He pulls that overhead and reveals the body you’ve been fantasizing about for so long.  Whatever you’d imagined was lying underneath those clothes pales in comparison to the real thing.  His body looks cut from stone, his smooth skin the perfect canvas for the tattoos that run across his arms and onto his chest.

“Better now?” he chuckles.

“Not yet,” you say, savoring the power of your position on the bar.  You watch his one-woman striptease with the hint of a smile on your lips.  “The jeans have to go.”

“Bossy,” he mocks, fingers unbuttoning the dark denim.  Your jaw drops about the same time the jeans do.

“Well,” you laugh, slipping down off of the bar to stand in front of him.  “Your review has just improved.”

He smiles into the kiss you plant on him as your fingers snake between you to wrap around his cock.  He thrusts firmly into the tight grasp of your fingers as his tongue delves deep into your mouth.  He sucks in a breath when your thumb teases as the moisture gathered at the tip of his cock.

“My cock is gonna explode if I don’t bury it between those thighs,” Jungkook groans and you shudder from head to toe.  “Turn around for me.”

You do as you're told, turning away from him to brace your weight against the bartop.  You can see Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror that lines the back wall of the bar.  You watch as he grabs a condom from the back pocket of his jeans and makes quick work of rolling it down his thick length.

He presses the length of his warm body against yours, and you tense when the blunt head of his cock teases your entrance.  One hand lines up his cock and the other grips the soft skin of your hip.  He looks at you in the reflection of the mirror and your knees almost give out when he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Let me in, sweetheart.”

You arch back just as he sinks inside -- going to the hilt in one firm stroke.  

“Shit,” he groans between gritted teeth. “Fuck, that’s a tight fit.”

“Oh, God --” you gasp as he begins to rock against you.  After a few languid strokes he sets a steady rhythm, hips smacking against your ass with the force of his thrusts.

He leans over you, bracketing you in with one arm braced on the bar while the other helps guide your hip.  Your eyes fall closed and your head drops forward as you push back against him, rendered boneless by the thick slide of his cock.  The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoes loud in the empty bar.

Jungkook leans down to take your earlobe between his teeth and you whimper.

“Look at me,” he orders in a whisper.  “Open your eyes.”

Your eyes snap open to find Jungkook’s reflection and the sight nearly makes you come undone for a second time.  His damp hair is falling into his face, body covered in a sheen of sweat and his mouth is curled into a dangerous smile.

“That’s it,” he murmurs when your eyes meet in the mirror.  “I want you to see how good you’re getting fucked.”

Your rhythm falters at his provocation but Jungkook refuses to let either of you get off track.  He drops both hands to your hips and begins pounding into you with relentless strokes, huffing a laugh when you squeak in response.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groans, thrusts going frantic.  “Can you come for me again?”

You nod -- completely out of words -- reaching one hand down to the aching button between your thighs.  Jungkook pulls your body back against his, angling deeper into your aching cunt at the same time your shaking fingers manage to apply a light pressure to your clit.  

That’s all it takes.

You come apart a second later and Jungkook pulls your hair back to expose the column of your throat as he rides you through it.  His teeth scrape against the sensitive skin of your neck as his own orgasm starts to ignite.

His fingers grip your hips so hard you’re certain there will be bruises in the morning.  But it’s worth it -- so damned worth it when you get to watch Jeon Jungkook come undone for you.  You’ve never seen anything sexier than Jungkook with brows knit in utter concentration, mouth slack with pleasure and coming for you.  Inside of you.

 You lean against the bar, legs like noodles as he comes down from his high and seconds later, he’s slumped over you, body lax against yours.

“Hey,” he says after a moment of silence, as you’re catching your breath.  He leans his chin against your shoulder.

“Yeah?” you manage, craning your head to face him.

“Come back tomorrow and we can break open my bottle of Goldschläger.”

*********************

You wake with an ache between your temples and an ache between your legs. 

The pounding in your head is your punishment for drinking way more than you should have last night.  

The pleasant soreness lingering between your thighs is an entirely different story.  That’s the only souvenir you get to keep to commemorate the best sex of your life.  And it’s not going to stick around.

You roll over in bed and reach for your phone.

Tifa picks up on the first ring.

“I’m not even going to play the game with you, girl,” she says, in lieu of a proper greeting. “I just wanna know how it was.”

***********************

[renegades-garbage]

Its Over

I wrote a Renegades fanfic. Its the first fic I’ve ever written and I know it’s not that great. If you have any constructive criticism(emphasis on constructive), or any writing tips I would love to hear them! Anyways here it is. It takes place right after the end of Supernova.

It’s over. Nova thought as she looked out at the city her uncle had almost destroyed. She had devoted her whole life to this cause-to Ace’s cause and now it was over, and she was on his enemy’s side. She knew it was for the best. Wasn’t getting revenge on her family’s killer her goal this whole time? Though she couldn’t deny the guilt that settled in her stomach. Guilt for betraying the anarchists, for lying to Adrian and the team who she tried so hard not to like, even for tricking the council who she’d despised since she was six. What was she supposed to do now? She wondered. Everything she thought she knew had just been shattered and she had never been so unsure of herself.

“Nova!” Adrian called, pulling her from her thoughts. Kind, loving, caring Adrian Everhart who, for reasons she couldn’t explain(but was very grateful for), didn't despise her. 

She turned to see that he was walking towards her and away from the spot where Simon had locked Max in a death gripping hug. Seeing the two finally together made her lips twitch into a slight smile and she turned her attention back to the boy walking toward her. 

While she still felt absolutely horrible for lying to him, this was the first time she looked at him with hope for the future-for their future, together. They obviously had lots to work through but she no longer had to worry about the weight of maintaining her false identity, and she no longer had to worry about the fact that loving him was a betrayal in and of itself. 

“Wow” Adrian said as he stared at the damage that had been caused by the battle. He was closer to the edge of the roof then she dared to go for fear of seeing Ace’s broken body on the concrete below.

“Yeah.” she laughed humorlessly. “Wow.”

He turned to face her and they just stared at each other for a few seconds. Nova looked at him and thought about just how much she had hurt him, and what could have happened if this day had gone differently. He was still shirtless and she could see the wounds that Honey gave him, and she could have prevented.

“I'm so sorry.” she said, hoping he could tell just how much she meant it.

“I know” Adrian said, and she could tell he understood the weight of her apology. “I'm sorry too. I lied to you about the sentinel when I told the rest of the team, and now I know I created phobia, and he-”

Nova cut him off by wrapping her arms around his neck. He let out a breath and immediately welcomed her into his arms. She felt safe and warm in Adrian’s embrace and she was so thankful for him. 

“Hey um I don’t mean to interrupt but…” They both turned to see Max standing next to them awkwardly. 

She stepped back a little expecting him to say something to his brother and was surprised to see him turn to her. 

“I just wanted to say thank you”

She looked at him confused. What did this kid have to thank her for? She had nearly gotten his family killed. Hell, she had nearly gotten him killed yet he was thanking her?

“For saving my life.” he said as though it was obvious. “Twice” he added. 

“Oh.” She said as hesitant a smile took over her face. “You don’t have to thank me for that. It was my pleasure.” she said only partly joking. 

Max smiled and hesitated for a second before he hugged her tightly. She was surprised and tensed up a bit before wrapping her arms around his small body to return the hug. “I mean it. Also, you’re kind of awesome, ya know, climbing buildings and fighting people and all that. Don’t let it go to your head though.

She laughed. “I’ll try”

Max let go of her and ran back to his dads. Nova could tell being out of the quarantine was going to be good for him. She turned back to Adrian who was wearing his signature smile. She could see the dimples on his cheeks and he took her breath away as always.

“For the record I think you're kind of awesome too.” He said putting his arms back around her waist, and kissing the top of her head.

“Thanks.” She said, chuckling, and a faint blush spread across her cheeks.

“My dads said you could stay at my house, at least for now.”

“Okay” She replied, though she was slightly shocked that they still trusted her to be in their home after everything that’s happened. 

Adrian pulled back a little and looked down at her. They held eye contact for only a moment before he leaned down and kissed her. The moment their lips touched she knew that everything was going to be okay. She knew that despite the guilt they both felt and the lies that still plagued them, they would be fine in the end. She knew that she loved him and love was stronger than anything that threatened to tear them apart.

Adrian pulled away and laced their fingers together. 

“Let’s go home.” he said.

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker #3, episode 133

Greetings and salutations to the exercise I have set upon myself, which is to say deciding the relative mental stability of Wizard NPCs who have been subjected to the Mighty Nein. My intent is to do this at least until Trent Ikithon has fucked off this mortal coil and/or been thoroughly deposed and humiliated.

As a reminder Caleb Widogast is a member of the Mighty Nein and a PC and therefore excluded from these calculations. Wizards who haven’t been seen or heard from lately and about whom I don’t have anything funny to say about will not get a full blurb, but as they re-enter the main narrative so will they re-enter the list. Currently, this is the Essek Thelyss Show ft. Trent and the Volstruckers with guest appearances by Yussa and Allura.

Currently sidelined: Oremid Hass, Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk (I am going to reuse this stupid joke name for him until it doesn’t make me laugh at my own joke anymore, which will probably be never), Pumat Sol (who I hope is having a great day), Ludinus Da’leth (who I hope is not but in true laissez-faire rat bastard form, probably is).

Vess D wasn’t there/morning time in Eiselcross or at her job or anywhere/they snuck in and took her life/and we noticed that her spellbook’s gone and that she’s covered in red eyes.

Trent Ikithon: Okay with the caveat that it’s been a very long time since I saw the entire movie and our only update is Artagan taking a moment from his busy schedule of traveling the globe in the direction of the sun such that he is always technically day-drinking to tell Jester that Trent’s biding his time, I’m getting real Disney Hunchback of Notre Dame Frollo vibes. Except instead of Catholicism and lust, it’s nationalism and an unquenchable thirst for power and control, and also he does not feel guilty in the slightest. He’s not at Hellfire levels yet but he will get there and I am slightly disappointed that due to the constraints of a D&D game we do not get an even more fucked up version of the song Hellfire.

Conclusion: 6/10. Slowly stepping it up. Also here’s the great thing: while we know Caleb is going to come after him next, he doesn’t, and the Nein didn’t tell any world governments about the threat of the city unless you count the Tal’Dorei Council via Allura, which means for all intents and purposes they just disappeared into Eiselcross...except Trent also knows Caleb disappeared for five or six years once before and reports of his death were greatly exaggerated. If Caleb weren’t dedicated to the noble goal of ending the Volstrucker program ASAP, he could just chill for a year or so and then pull a really stellar Surprise Bitch move and maybe just get Trent’s heart to explode.

Essek Thelyss: He got a good night’s trance and weird physical affection from a giant ape Caleb and he was healed by Caduceus and he had a serious conversation with the first true peer and one of the first friends he’s ever known about how high-level wizardry may not necessarily corrupt absolutely. And, of course, soup. I mean they are about to head into a terrible battle but he’s at full health and spells and he’s a valued member of the team and his friends love him SO MUCH.

Conclusion: 5/10. There is a distinction between a breakdown and being in a very high pressure situation, and he got some nice moments of respite this week. With that said do I think that post-battle, should he survive (HE BETTER) a whole lot of anxiety will come crashing back? Yeah.

Astrid Beck: With Trent in a holding pattern he’s got to be turning up the mind games on her; I have to imagine he suspects and then she suspects that he suspects and it’s a whole mess, but I’ve said that already. But also just like, in general, I think her speech to Caleb back when he first contacted her was genuine in many ways and specifically I think she was likely to have been Trent’s New Golden Child and then suddenly that got yanked out from under her for still more mind games; I think her difference in demeanor between that meeting and the dinner was partially Trent being present, but partially her having realized in the interim that she will likely never have anything to show for two decades of pain and doing terrible things and nonstop bullshit.

Conclusion: still keeping her at 8/10 until further notice but like. Astrid’s having a bad time.

Um actually Eadwulf is the monster? The hero’s name is Grendel: Okay meanwhile here’s my totally unsupported Eadwulf headcanon of this week which is that he meanwhile always knew he was not the favorite and probably never would be and while I doubt he ever had particularly noble goals I would not be surprised if he had an exit strategy. Personally I hope he tries card-counting in that casino in Ank’harel and gets kicked out posthaste and then tries being a wizard/some kind of divine caster multiclass in Vasselheim and also gets kicked out but finally becomes like an old-school hermit figure somewhere in the woods of Issylra and Campaign 3′s party runs into him.

Conclusion: also keeping him at 4/10 until further notice.

Allura Vyesoren: It’s time to acknowledge that this episode covered a span of like...8 hours? And presuming the Nein are sort of trying to keep a normal sleep schedule, maybe, and using a comparison of Eiselcross being at a comparable time zone to say, Nicodranas, and it’s 5 hours into the night for them, and we know that around mid-day for Nicodranas was early morning for Emon...honestly she’s probably relaxing with a glass of wine. Unless Wensforth contacted her.

Conclusion: I’m going to let Allura have a good day. She’s at 2/10 because the threat of Aeor will be in the back of her mind but also she’s seen a bunch of idiots kill dragons and Vecna and they didn’t even have a wizard.

Yussa Errenis: Experiencing a great disturbance in the Astral Sea, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and then just like, kept doing that.

Conclusion: I decided to really go all out last week on the infinity jokes and left myself nothing to go on, huh. Anyway this breakdown goes to 11 (out of 10).

[moomingitz]

It’s... interesting looking back at the Jak and Daxter series, because when the second and third games first came out during my edgy teen years my mindset for them was mostly, “OMG Jak is now a buff and rugged edgy boi, he’s saying curse words, and has a literal edgy dark side to him. And Daxter is a big playboi who doesn’t hide his love for bewbs. Jak and Daxter is no longer for babies but for mature big kids like me!”

But looking at the series now; Holy shit, Jak has had it rough. Where do I even begin? This is going to be long, so get comfortable:

First, Jak was ripped away from his father at a very young age due to an insurrection. Then he was kidnapped by one of the people who was responsible for it, with the intention of being used to awaken some ancient Precursor technology, but luckily he somehow escaped and then was taken in by a rebellion group.

Then he was sent back into the past to be raised by Samos, the Sage of Green Eco. While that was a good thing for Jak, since he was able to grow up in a loving and supportive environment, what happened to him before that is something that would still be traumatic to a little kid especially in the form of something like Separation Anxiety. While this goes into headcanon territory, I can’t help but wonder if that had a lot to do with why Jak was the mostly silent type before the events of the second game. But thankfully he was lucky to grow up with two best friends like Daxter and Keira.

Surely you think that would be the end of misfortune Jak would have to go through. Wrong!

Fast forward to where he’s now 15 years old and everything seems all good and exciting after he and Daxter saved the world from Dee Snider and his twisted sister. Sure they didn’t accomplish what they set out for by turning Daxter back into his old humanoid self, by Daxter is content staying as a furry anyway. At least they saved the world and found some ancient Precursor technology. But hold up! Turns out it was some kind of rift gate and the moment they activated it some giant bug monster pops out and they’re all separated and thrown into some new place they’ve never seen.

Literal seconds later, before Jak or Daxter have any time to react or process what exactly just happened and where they ended up, Jak is immediately arrested and knocked unconscious, despite doing nothing wrong. He’s then tortured and experimented on for the next two years, in hopes of turning him into a living weapon by pumping Dark Eco into him. Keep in mind Jak was only 15-16 years old during those nightmarish two years of his life. But his BFF Daxter never gave up looking for him and eventually rescued Jak.

Upon busting out Jak has no damn idea where exactly he is, and when he does it turns out him and Daxter are now in a totalitarian, police state of a hellhole where never ending propaganda is blared everywhere you go, and where Jak’s only crime is just existing. Oh, and there’s currently an ongoing war between this police state regime ruling the city and some species called Metal Heads, so the territory outside the city is near inhospitable. So just simply leaving Haven City isn’t really an option. It’s either deal with the Krimson Gaurd who will get on you for just sneezing in the wrong direction, or claw your way for survival outside the city walls.

Until finding Samos and Kiera much later, Daxter is the only familiar and welcoming face Jak still had until then(the only exception being Sig in the “welcoming face” department).

Oh, and it turns out those Dark Eco experiments gave JAk some dark Hulk like form that he has trouble controlling(at least that’s what the game tells us). Oh, and they eventually learn that this shithole place they found themselves in is actually their home 500 years into the future. Oh, and it turns that this little kid they’ve been having to protect from both the Krimson Guard and the Metal Head army is actually Jak’s younger self.

Despite all that, the rebellion group and many of the criminals they had to work with eventually warm up and even become their friends, the authoritarian regime eventually crumbles, and they kill the Metal Head leader. Even though Jak doesn’t go back to his childhood home in the past, Keira, Samos, and Daxter choose to stay with him in the future, so he’s definitely not alone in the end. Happy ending earned, and that should be the end of all the bad stuff to happen in Jak’s life, right?...

Of course that wouldn’t be the end of bad traumatic shit to happen to Jak!

Right after the events of the second game, Jak is not only blamed for the fallout of the Praxis regime falling and the Metal Head army’s demise, but he’s outright banished to the Wasteland, no thanks to some weasely council member, Veger.

But ya boi Daxter snuck out to join Jak in his exile, so at least Jak still has his best friend with him. Jak now has to survive in a Mad Max esque land after proving himself worthy to Damas, the leader of some refuge village. But it’s kind of good because he slowly gets on this guy’s good graces.

Oh, but later on it turns out this Damas guy is actually the very father Jak was forcibly separated from during his very early childhood. But, Jak only figured that out just as Damas was dying, and he didn’t have a chance to tell Damas that he was his son that’s he’s been wanting to find for years.

It also turns out this Veger douchebag was one of the people aside from Baron Praxis who was responsible for Jak being separated from Dadmas, and was the guy who kidnapped him in an attempt use him to obtain that ancient Precursor technology.

Of course everything works out in the end. But yeah... You see what I mean? Jak was put through the wringer during the events of this whole trilogy! He's done nothing wrong! Yet starting from a very young age he’s either been targeted or dragged into other’s messes for just existing, or for something he had no choice to do in order to survive. The only real thing he did wrong was dragging Daxter over to Misty Island, which led to him being accidentally transformed into an ottsel in the first place. But the events of the first games was all a lighthearted adventure anyway. Aside from that it’s been one unfortunate or traumatic event after another for Jak.

When letting everything Jak went through really sink in, there’s guaranteed trauma and the resulting PTSD this poor guy is going to have to address or else it will inevitably manifest itself in some way later on. Acting gruff and blase' will only work for so long. I know some people get tired with pieces of fiction being compared to Steven Universe, but Steven’s eventual mental breakdown seriously came to mind. And some people will say, “It’s just a vidya game, stop thinking too much into it.”, but there was a conscious decision to take this series into a more dark and mature direction after the first game. So, it’s a bit hard not to think about more possible unpleasant implications based on what happened in the sequels, especially when looking at the events of the games through the lenses of today.

Taking all of this into consideration is also why I think Daxter is seriously the “MVP” of the series.

Daxter grew up being Jak’s best friend, which I’m sure helped Jak a lot after being separated from his father and taken to a literal place in time completely different and unfamiliar to him. I’m very sure his time growing up in Sandover Village and hanging out with Daxter was the best period of Jak’s life. Even after Jak dragged him to Misty Island, accidentally causing him to be transformed into an ottsel, and sacrificing his chance to be turned back to normal in order to save the world, Daxter showed no hard feelings towards Jak and he even learns to like being an ottsel.

He spent two years trying to find out where Jak was being held prisoner in Haven City, and infiltrated the place once he did and helped Jak escape.

And despite not having any fingers pointed towards him for the fallout after the events of the second game, Daxter still chooses to join Jak in exile in the Wasteland.

Daxter has never shown any ill will towards Jak despite him being the one responsible for being turned into an ottsel, and he’s never really abandoned him even when he is given many chances to or a way to get himself out of really bad situations. Despite everything, Daxter is still the same quippy, upbeat dork of a friend Jak has grown up with.

I really believe Daxter helped a lot with keeping Jak’s sanity intact during all of the hell he was put through and beyond. If there was a guaranteed way for someone to sign their own death warrant with Jak, I think harming or outright killing Daxter would be it.

[bokutosworld]

then and now | kuroo t.

pairing: kuroo tetsurō x f!reader word count: 1863 words, fluff! mutual pining!  warning: manga spoilers, with mention of kuroo’s timeskip occupation summary: always the bridesmaid, never the bride. you thought your time would never come until someone from your past comes along and brings up something you’ve long forgotten. OR where you and kuroo make a silly marriage pact and he shows up after years apart to make it come true.  

He chuckled, now comfortably holding your one hand and hiding it in his pocket to keep it warm. “Here I was wondering if you were waiting for me.

Because I was.” 

The church bell tolls, white doves are released, and joyful cheer and applause erupts from the crowd as the newlywed couple steps out from the cathedral. The now husband-and-wife gaze at each other full of love, and it is a sight guaranteed to make one envious and long for that same kind of affection. 

But to you, it’s a scene that you’ve seen so many times that it already feels like a short film played on repeat. For the past year, you’ve lost count of how many weddings you’ve attended – whether as a guest or part of the bride’s entourage – that you’ve acquainted yourself with the workings of the event. 

Heck, you’ve even memorized the readings of the priest that if they ever need a replacement, you can be the stand-in and officiate the program. 

However, this wedding was different. Your best friend of more than fifteen years is the one who walked down the aisle, and you’re more emotional than you expected you’d be. Earlier in the morning, she woke you up, feeling sentimental, and demanded a pep talk. It was laughable because, more than her, you thought it was you who needed that assurance as you sent off your childhood friend to a new journey in her life. 

The whole ordeal felt surreal and somehow, a tad more personal, because it wasn’t just any bride – this was the same girl you grew up with, the one you’ve seen in diapers, the one who held your hand in the playground, the person who you always ran to for boy troubles. Watching her exchange vows and rings felt like a coming to life of a scrapbook page, a long-awaited dream that you’ve talked about together in sleepovers where none of you really slept. 

It made you wonder if you will ever march down the same aisle towards the waiting arms of your beloved.  

---

“What a wedding, huh?” 

The hotel reception was no different to the ceremony that took place prior. This time again, you wore the bride’s maid-in-honor hat and only after making sure that everything – that included the food, drinks, and entertainment – were in place did you take your place on the table and chatted with your old friends from high school. 

The conversation started off with comments on how grand, intimate, and special the ceremony was. They talked about how it was wedding season, counting just how many of their schoolmates have already been wed. And before you knew it, eyes were on you and you had an inkling of what would follow. 

“So,” Yoshioka, your former student council president, turned towards you. “You’re the only bachelorette left in our batch. We’re just curious.”

You laughed awkwardly, “No, please don’t expect a wedding invitation from me anytime soon. I’m still happily single.” The smile you wore felt strained, but whether the other girls recognized it or not, they chose to not comment further. 

“Besides, it’s a great source of joy for me just being able to see you guys get married.” Noticing that the lights have begun to dim and focused on the spot on the stage, you clapped your hands, “Now, let’s just enjoy Yukie’s wedding, alright! Look, they’re coming out.” 

As soon as the couple walked to the floor for their first dance, you heaved a sigh of relief and slumped in your cushioned chair. They moved gracefully as one across the dance floor, seemingly lost in their own world as they gazed deeply in each other’s eyes and swayed to the tune of the love song. 

You thought back to the conversation earlier and weirdly, you felt a pang inside. Truth is, in every wedding you’ve attended, you can’t help but feel wishful. You consider yourself successful in almost every aspect of your life but sometimes, it can feel dejecting when you return home to an empty apartment at the end of a tough workday. 

A part of you craved to make that little girl’s dream come true of wearing the wedding dress that you’ve designed, staying up all night for a bridal shower, and walking down the aisle to where your lover was waiting. 

When the couple’s first dance ended, the host entered the stage and the program officially began. You could only hope that hours would pass faster. 

---

Two hours into the reception and you can already feel the shots kicking in your system. 

It wasn’t a really good idea downing five straight shots of tequila. At first, you thought it would quell your nerves, make you let loose and be the funnier version of yourself as you stepped to the podium to deliver your congratulatory speech to the couple. 

In retrospect, it looks like the drink did its job as you managed to emit laughter and emotional tears from the crowd as you reminisced on your relationship with the bride, recounting the story of how she fell deeply in love and decided that he was the one. 

But now, hunched in your seat with head on your hands, you were seemingly tipsy and all you could think about was escaping outside for some fresh air. 

So, you did. When the groom’s best man took the stage, you saw this as an opportunity to quietly slip to the balcony. 

Shutting the door behind you with a quiet thud, you eyed the empty balcony and sat towards the nearest bench. The surface was a bit cold as the city was now ushering the season of fall, signaling the arrival of long nights and chilly evenings. You shivered slightly and tucked your coat closer to your body as you stare at the darkness. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been outside until you heard the door open and in came a tall, attractive, and oddly familiar man. His face held a warm smile as you noticed that his gaze was directed towards you. 

“Long day?”   

And it was only until he stepped closer and stood in front of you, the moonlight illuminating his face and accentuating his features, that you realized who he was. 

“Tetsurō?!”   

When was the last time you saw the Kuroo Tetsurō? You racked your brain for your last encounter with him and your memories point to your high school graduation. All of a sudden, you felt small and your surroundings became hot as you stood in front of him. Your former childhood neighbor. Former best friend. Former crush. 

Not that he had any idea about that last item. 

“I thought I saw you earlier before the reception started,” he made himself comfortable on the bench, patting the space beside him to urge you to sit as well. “But it’s been so long since I last saw you so of course I thought I was hallucinating. Then you gave a speech on stage – which by the way, I thought was awesome, you’re still as witty as you were before – and my suspicions were confirmed.” 

You were breathless. Speechless. What were the odds that your reunion with him would be at a wedding? 

“Did Yukie send you the wedding invitation?”  

His laugh echoed in the darkness of the night, “Yeah, she did. It was nice to see familiar faces again.” He stared back at you, “I missed everyone.” I missed you, he wanted to say. 

You hummed in agreement and without realizing, the two of you engaged in a comfortable conversation with Kuroo leading just as he always did. Being charming just as he always was. Telling you stories from the part of the past that you didn’t know. Catching you up with his present where he now works in the sports promotion division of Japan Volleyball Association. 

A small part of you was relieved to know that Kuroo was doing well and successful just as you always hoped he would be. Years of no contact with the boy that stole your heart from day one certainly left you lonely. You wouldn’t say it out loud but he was part of the equation of why you still haven’t tied the knot. It was silly but you always thought that no one could measure up to him. 

Absentmindedly, you started fiddling with your fingers, a habit you’ve formed when you were feeling cold, and Kuroo noticed. And just as he always did back then, he enveloped your hands with his and brought them to his lips to blow warm air on them. 

“That better?” 

Your heart threatened to flutter, “Yeah, thanks.” 

After a long while of silence, Kuroo spoke. “I see there’s still no ring on your fourth finger.” He was now nonchalantly stroking your hands, letting his fingers slip in yours. 

You coughed nervously, averting your eyes from his deep ones. “Well, I haven’t really found anyone.” 

He chuckled, now comfortably holding your one hand and hiding it in his pocket to keep it warm. “Here I was wondering if you were waiting for me.

Because I was.” Oh no, be still my heart, you thought.

Kuroo went on, “Remember that silly pact we made on the night before graduation?” 

Your mind takes you back on that evening when you and Kuroo were sitting on the rooftop, away from the noisy crowds and drunk soon-to-be college students. This was your thing, enjoying the calmness and admiring the stars spread out in the night sky. 

That evening, you and Kuroo talked about the uncertain future that lied ahead. That evening, you bared your soul to him, letting him in on your worries and you fell apart in his comforting presence. He, as always, acted as your anchor, assuring you that he would always be your biggest supporter and that he’d always cheer on you even from afar. 

That evening, with the two of you drunk on the excitement and the many possibilities for the new chapter of life, he brought up a proposal.

“I have a crazy idea.” Kuroo linked his pinkie finger with yours. “If we’re still single and not yet married by the age of 35, I’ll find you and we’ll get married.”  

Swept away in the moment and the thrill of the idea, you agreed and sealed the proposal with a harmless kiss. 

“You still remember that?” You questioned, not expecting him to actually remember that silly pact. Not expecting him to be holding on to that agreement. 

“Sometimes, I wonder where we could be now if I just manned up and asked you out that night instead of pulling that act.” He holds your gaze, careful as he brings a hand to cup your cheek. “I’ve liked you for the longest time. And if you’re still available, if you’ll still have me, I am yours.” 

“But we’re not yet 35, Kuroo,” you teased. He chuckled and playfully shoved you before bringing you in an embrace. 

“I’ve decided years ago. You’re the only one for me,” he pulls away. “I’m sorry it took me a long time.” 

And that night, it wasn’t only your best friend that went home feeling the happiest girl in the world. 

Because there was Kuroo who was ready to make up for lost time and give you a reason to look forward to your trips back home.  

[livvynka]

Can i get your vote? Kamilah x Amy x Priya AU

Warning: SMUT, death threatening, harsh sexual activities, Angst, Putting Kamilah in her place, bit of a fluff?

I’m not native english speaker, feel free to correct me (i would be actually glad).

NOTE: Story is before Kamilah and Amy fall in love, when Amy tries get Priya's vote, so Lily can join Adrian's clan. Uff, this takes a lot from me. :D

Pairing: Kamilah x Amy x Priya

About 2430+- words.

Tag list: @fal-carrington @samanthadalton @vonda-b-real @drmmyrs @straightlikewetspaghetti @blaine-hayes @lizielasyd @mrskamilahsayeed @millasayeed @ntoraplayschoices @ilove-kamilah-sayeed @kamilah-is-queen @rhonda-sayeed @queenkamilah @domakir @kwaj115 @fundamentalromantic @somethindarker @crimsonvrose @glowriter @leenasayeed

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Amy has goosebumps just from the thought, she needs to visit and get to the good side of Priya's. She knows Priya is evil, and every good thing in her died a long time ago. But there is no way Kamilah or Adrian could break her so she does something nice for them. They are sitting in Adrian's office. Brainstorming plan how to get 4 votes, so Lily can live. Amy: "Alright, I pay her visit." Kamilah shoot stare to Adrian. Kamilah: "She's your pet. I don't care. But she gets all of you into this mess, so she needs to fix it." Adrian: "Kamilah be reasonable, she will not come back alive. You know Priya and her ´activities´..." Amy: "Kamilah is right. And there is no other way. She will send you to the hell in the moment you set your foot to her club."

Adrian: "No! We will find another way, I will not let anything to happen to you." Amy: "Maybe we will, but it will take a long time. And now, time is what we don't have. I already decide Adrian. And you cant change my mind. I'm going with or without your help." Kamilah: "Amy, she is going to break you. Don't underestimated her. Not every vampire is in control like us and our clans." Amy: "Now you care? You threaten to kill me, Kamilah! You can go back to your office, because you are not helping." Amy stands up and starts walking towards door. She stops with her hand on the handle. She takes a few deep breaths. Then she looks over her shoulder. Adrian put his head into his hands. He shakes his head and nod. Adrian: "We send someone, who will watch you from distance. If anything goes wrong, they help you." Kamilah straighten her back, clears her throat and began walk towards Amy.

Kamilah: "I'll escort you to her club. We need to talk privately." Adrian look between Amy and Kamilah with questions in his eyes. He feels there's great tension between them. He just don't know what kind of tension. It seems he wants to say something, but he just look to the opposit direction. Amy: "Great.. Yeah.... Thank you..." They got into her car. Kamilah drives Amy to the Paulus viewpoint. Kamilah exit the vehicle first, she opens doors for Amy and offers her hand. Amy decline and burst out of the car. Amy: "Why did you take me here? I need to meet with Priya! If you want to kill me, do it! Enough of your threats and shit talking about me all the time."

Kamilah: "You may be right, mortal. I don't care about you. But Adrian likes you. So listen to me, I will not repeat myself. I will help you out of this situation, who if I remember, you cause. But if this doesn't work out, and Adrian loses his life, because you put your con act and manipulate him to turn Lily. I'll kill you both without any hesitation." Amy is stressed out. Angry. Scared for her, Lily's and Adrian's life. This was the last button to push. She doesn't care if more than 2000 years old, strongest vampire on the earth, who can snap her neck in the velocity of light, stands before her. She slaps her hard and pushes her. Again, and again and again. She pinned Kamilah to the railing. Amy: "Ohh, really, Kamilah? Than do it, kill me! You are full of the bullshit! Drop this nonsense! You are hiding behind coldness, strength and rudeness. But we both know where is the truth! Deep inside, you are scared little girl, who is afraid of people leaving you, after they get to know real you! You are lonely and scream for the attention, affection and love! Deep inside, you want someone who will care about you, who will see the real you! Who will get you and stand by your side. So NO! I'm not afraid you. You care about people. Adrian may be the last being who likes you, and you know it. So you are losing your control, because he is the only hope for your humanity. Only thing which puts you in the line. The last thing to stops you from being monster. Be honest for second and show me some damn respect!" She catches Amy's hand when she wanted to push her again. Her jaw drops. She is right and they both now it. She stands there in shock.

Kamilah: "I-I..."

Amy: "That's what I though."

Amy free her hands from Kamilah's strong grasp and start walking towards the city. It's a few miles. This is going to be a long walk, but Amy doesn't care. She needs to clear her head. She feels connection towards Kamilah, but she is tired of her act and manipulation. Kamilah feel how tear slides down her cheek. Reality falls apart and she remembers how she sits alone in her pentahouse or office, trying to drink her mind off. She prohibited herself any kind of connection after what she done in past. After so much pain she causes.

After centuries someone sees through her like she was a plate of glass. She closes her eyes and tried gain her control back. After a while she enters her expensive car and follows Amy. It does not take long, she finds her walking angrily in abandonen path.

Kamilah: "I'm sorry Amy. Please get into the car, I'll drive you to the Priya's club. It's not safe in the night here."

Amy: "I'm fine. Just go away." Kamilah: "Don't be stuborn, you were right about everything. Let me take you to the Priya's club, now for real. I know I upset you, but it takes hours from here, by walking.

Amy sight and listen, she gets into the car and turn to the window with her hand fold above her stomach. She is looking at the night New York. Amy: "What can Priya do to me?"

Kamilah: "She is a real monster. She will promise you a lot of things. She makes you feel special for short quantity of time. In the second she gets enough of you or gets bored, she will probably kill you. Her games, no human can survive. People disapear or they found them dead." Amy: "At least she is attractive. I will have a nice view when she dries me suck and I will die for someone I care about." Kamilah narrow her eyes at the girl, sitting besides her. Kamilah: "We won't let that happened. You need to get out of there if she tries something. We still can get Baron's vote." Amy: "He is even worse. Priya wants to play games, but her ego destroys her once. What she doesn't know, I'm good at playing games."

Amy: "Kamilah, I'm sorry about what I said earlier."

Kamilah's brows quirk. She thinking about hers next words.

Kamilah: "Don't be. Perhaps it was bold to say those things, but you were right. Noone was brave enough to tell me before..." Kamilah drive Amy to the Priya's club and wish her luck. Amy didn't wait a long line and walk towards the bouncer. Amy: "Priya will accept me immediately." Bouncer: "Oh, are you her snack? Tell me your name, I check the list." Amy tells her name to the bouncer. He calls for his colleague and they escort Amy right to the Priyas V.I.P. room. Priya is wearing a black minidress, with gold stripes and a red high heel boots. A lace from the dress covering only a little bit of her skin, it's really tight dress. She talks with another vampires. Some of them Amy knows from the Council meeting. It takes only few second before Priya sensed Amy. She shoot glare directly to Amy. Priya: "Well, well, well. Look at who's decided do choose better company."

She kissed Amy at both cheeks and hugs her tightly. Priya may be a monster, but she is also very attractive. When Amy feels how close is Priya's body presses to hers, she gasps. Her heart skips a few heartbeats. Priya smirk and look at the girl before her with amusement.

Amy: "Hi Priya, I need to talk with you. Privately." Priya: "Ohh!" She clapped her hands together enthusiastically and murderous smile appear at her face. Amy rolled her eyes. Priya: "I love where is this coming. Follow me." They enter a private elevator what is connected directly to the Priya's apartment. When the door close Priya immediately catch Amy by her sides, other hand searching to find a way under Amy's shirt. She runs a nail along Amy's stomach harshly, and cut a line on her belly, blood appears immediately. Amy let out a moan. Priya kiss her with hunger. Amy pauses the kiss and walk a few steps away. Her heart is beating fast. Priya attract her, but she is also very dangerous. Amy is trying to cool down and put hand in the air between them, to make some space. Amy: "I'm here only to talk." Priya: "Don't lie, I hear your heart, it's like it explode any moment."

Amy: "Priya... I need your help with something, hear me out." They exit the elevator, and Priya pour them a glass of expensive red wine. They sit on the leather couch. Priya grab Amy by her thigh and pull her close. She is drawing a circles at her thigh. Priya: "Well?" Amy: "Someone of your kind attacks my friend..." Priya: "Of my kind?!" Amy: "Vampire... My friend, Lily... She was dying... So I ask Adrian to turn her. I got you envelope, he is calling a Council meeting. We need your vote." Priya: "HA! Adrian breaks rules for some human?"

Priya: "You get my vote under one condition. You stay with me and become my little kitten." Amy: "No way, I want to live at least for next 50 years, Priya. One night, no killing, no turning. No ripping parts of my body." Priya: "Oh, I will have so much fun! Alright then. After I do to you, you will have no thoughts of leaving." Amy: "I am going to regret this. Am I? I accept." Priya: "Very well." She kisses Amy and guides her to stand up from the sofa. Her hands sliding at Amy's arms. Making way to tangle their fingers while Priya dominate Amy's tongue. Priya: "Now, I want to hear your heart race, your moans fills the room. And I have a very good idea." Before Amy opens her mouth to say something, she is back in flash with sex harness. Its black leather metal restrains for neck and wrists. Amy let out a long sigh and look directly at Priya's eyes. Amy: "Seriously Priya?" Priya: "I'll enjoy this my little kitten." She doesn't waste any time and free Amy of her cloths. She is completely nude. Before she can protest Priya restrain her into the harness and with the swift move settle Amy into near chair. She spread her kneese and push her toward the edge of the luxury seat. She kissed her again, but not for long. She continues to Amy's neck and bite, she inserts two fingers inside Amy. Amy sees how colors spread before her eyes. The pain and pleasure made Amy arch her back a bit. Her breath quickens when suddenly she feel another finger thrust in. A moan escapes her lips. She tried to hold onto something, but the harness blocking her movement. She almost can't take it. Amy: "FUCK, PRIYA!" Priya continues in her murderous pace and drinking Amy's blood. Amy vision goes blur. She doesn't know if its from the pleasure or the blood lost. Amy: "You dry me suck Priya! STOP!" But Priya continues. She starts to fuck Amy again and moves to her shoulder. She bites her again and sucks her blood like it's the best food she ever has. She bites her side, drink a little bit, then stomach, and finally she sucks her vulva. Amy let out very loud moan and rock against Priya. When Amy's orgasm come to close Priya moves again, to her thigh. She drinks Amy's blood again. Amy yell by the pleasure Priya giving her and from the pain.

Amy: "Priya! I am close!" Priya: "Let go my beautiful kitten." Priya pump into Amy with vampire strenght and speed. She can't even breath properly. She arch her back, the harness slightly choke herself, her wrist miss oxygen, but she doesn't care. After few moments she crashed so hard. Amy: "PRIYA! FUCK! OHMYHOD!" Amy lost her consciousness, from blood lost and pleasure Priya gives her. Priya stands up and clean her face from Amy's juice.

Priya: "Ha! They will be pissed, especially Adrian and grandma. Th-."

In that moment doors flew open and Kamilah make her way to the Priya. Kamilah is standing her, her twin daggers holding close.

Kamilah: "What about we just kill you?"

Priya: "Wait! Just take her!"

Kamilah: "Smart choice, Lacroix."

Kamilah hide her daggers and undress her maroon blazer. She free Amy of the leather - metal harness and wrap Amy into blazer. She pick her up, holding her close, but carefully.

Kamilah: "You are not allowed to touch her again."

Priya: "Whatever, after this night, she comes back voluntarily."

Kamilah: "I expect ´aye´ from you, tomorrow. And even if she comes back by her choice, you will hand her over to us, immediately."

Without hearing answer, Kamilah exit the building.

Kamilah: "You got yourself into serious mess Amy."

Amy wakes up and nuzzles to Kamilah's neck.

Amy: "Kam?"

Kamilah: "Shh. You are safe and alive."

Amy: "I was imagining you whole time. While she was doing, what she was doing."

Amy falls alseep again. Kamilah stops for the moment and look at that small, fragile human. She don't know what she should think about this. But she decide to ignors it. She carefully put Amy at back seats and drive her to her pentahouse, where she clean Amy's wounds. She lay her onto her bed and with intention watch her till she wakes up, lay besides her. Amy lookes so calm. Soon she falls asleep to.

Amy wakes up in the morning. She is laying on top of Kamilahs chest. Kamilah is holding her close, only in underwear, Amy is only in Kamilah's blater. She tried to stand up, but Kamilah is holding her too strongly.

She nuzzle to her cheek with her nose, while stroking her silk hair between her fingers.

Amy: "Kamilah? Wake up"

Kamilah: "Hmm, no, you are not going anywhere."

Amy smile at the old vampire and lay at her chest again.

Amy: "Okay then"

They both continue sleep. And for once, both can sleep peacefully.

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END.

[tinymilkshakecheesecake]

Blind Date - Cale Makar

This was partially inspired for Devon’s love of complimenting Cale on social media

Word Count - 1.6k

Cale knew he was running late.  The latest mindset book he was reading caught his attention and he didn’t realize it was time to leave until he was already going to be late.  He has no idea why he agreed to this.  “Devon wants me to go out more, but this is getting ridiculous,” he thinks.  Devon and his wife have a neighbor who also apparently needs to get out more and the two of them thought Cale and this mystery person will be attached at the hip afterwards and convinced or bullied (he’s not sure which) Cale into this.  He changes out of joggers, putting on better pants as he receives another text from Devon.  Devon has been repeatedly reminding Cale of the “date” they had arranged to make sure he doesn’t bail.  He puts on his shoes before grabbing his keys and wallet before running out the door, pausing only briefly to check the door.

He heads out of the elevator and pulls up the directions on his phone.  They set them up in a diner that was a short walking distance away from his building.  Not bothering to drive, he leaves the building, heading in the general direction of the diner.  Devon thinks he’ll be safe with the baseball game having already started and the quiet nature of the diner, but Cale isn’t completely convinced.  Devon texts him again, probably reminding him of his “date” to make sure he doesn’t leave the poor girl stranded.  He sees the diner and stops in front of it sighing before running a hand through his hair, a poor attempt to fix the messy strands.  “I really should have taken more time to get ready,” he thinks as nervous energy fills his stomach, unusual for him.  He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself before entering.

---

KJ looks up as the door opens.  A boy approximately her age walks in, waiting patiently for the hostess to greet him.  Sighing, she drops her gaze back to her phone in hopes Kerry or even Devon texts her back with any updates on the guy.  He was ten minutes late at this point and Kerry was getting slower in her responses to her messages.  Glancing back up she sees the hostess leading the guy to her table.  She places her phone away as he approaches, giving him a shot even if he was ten minutes late at this point, noting his red cheeks.

As he pulls out the chair he begins to speak, “Hi.  I’m Cale.  I am so sorry I’m late.  I got caught up in a book and lost track of time.”

“Oh.  It’s okay.  It happens.  I’m KJ by the way.  What book?” KJ asks, surprising herself with her response.

His eyes widen, “Oh, um it's called, Zen Putting, by Bob Rotella. It helps with mindfulness and focusing on the process rather than the result.”

“Do you golf much?” She asks.

“Mainly in the summer, not much now.  Work picks up this time of year but the concepts talked about are applicable to other things.”

“That’s cool.  Have you read a lot of books on mindfulness?”

“Ya.  Actually my dad is really big into mindset and he introduced it to me when I was fourteen.  It helped me a lot and is something I still work on.”  She watches the way he speaks, sometimes almost stumbling over his words but shows interest in it.  They continue talking about anything that comes to mind until his voice begins to show signs of breaking as the waitress appears.

---

Cale looks up as the waitress approaches.  Quickly glancing at the menu, he finds something that is loosely diet approved and would work.  As KJ orders, he finds himself looking her over.  He notices the way she responds to the waitress, eyes kind as she talks to the waitress.  Once they’re done, they resume talking.

“What made you come to Denver?” He asks.

“Oh, they had a good collections program and was interested in that,” she replies.

“Wait really, like museum stuff?”

“Sometimes.  It depends on where because a lot of universities might not have museums but will have collections from other things.”

“That's cool,” he replies.  Their food comes and they continue to talk throughout their meal.  They have a relaxed discussion and Cale really enjoys himself as he notices himself relaxing more throughout the conversation.  Cale excuses himself to use the bathroom.

---

KJ watches the waitress come while Cale, dropping off the check.  She handed her her credit card opting to cover the bill.  Smiling, the waitress takes the card and leaves.  Cale returns as the waitress drops off the card

“Hey, I was going to cover that,” he says once the waitress leaves.

“Too bad,” KJ replies with a smirk, “you can get the next one.”

“Oh, I see how it is.  You expect to see me again?” he replies.  He folds his lips to bite back a smirk but fails.  “Do you want to walk around the park for a bit?”

“Sure,” KJ replies as she grabs her phone before standing, letting Cale take the lead, following him out of the restaurant.  Following him out she reflects on the past hour and a half talking to Cale.  She enjoyed herself and the conversation never seemed to get dull.  She also noticed that he got more relaxed with hints of a canadian accent sneaking out but his cheeks always remained pink.  

The sidewalk widens and Cale pauses for a second to let KJ catch up.  They resume talking.  As before, the conversation flowed and their strides match perfectly.  KJ feels relaxed as they walk by an avs poster featuring Cale.  

---

Cale tenses up when he sees the poster, not expecting there to be posters up of him yet.  

“Did you come this way to see your face,” she jokes.

Cale turns even more red than usual.  “Oh god,” he mumbles.  “I forget how soon posters will go up sometimes and didn’t realize it was that time yet.  It does get annoying to see your face everywhere in case you’re wondering,” he relies with a soft smile.

“I bet,” KJ replies, “I was on the performing arts council in high school and had my face on a banner outside the school for months to help fundraise.  It was horrible.”

Laughing, Cale leads the way to a secluded overlook within the park he frequently visits.  He checks in with himself and notices how comfortable he feels.  Maybe Devon was right, but he doesn’t need to tell him that.  Walking up to the overlook, Cale notices the sky beginning to turn colors.  They walk up to the fence and Cale decides to take a half step closer to KJ, moving into her personal space.  Looking up, She catches his eye and moves closer, allowing him to tuck her into his side as they watch the sunset.  Cale feels himself relax more, allowing himself to enjoy the contact and the view as the sun sets.  

When the sun dips below the horizon, Cale pulls back as he bites back a yawn.  He has training camp again tomorrow and knows he should call it a night soon.  “Hey, where’d you park,” he asks, knowing Devon lived a fair distance away.

“Oh, I took the train,” She replies.

“Oh, I can drive you home if you want,” he offers.

“I can take the train.  It's actually probably easier, especially because you’re tired.”

Cale blushes, “Here, let me atleast walk you to the station.  Is union station the one you’re using?”

“Ya, that's probably easiest.”

“You’ll text me when you get home right?”

“Um, if I get your number I will,” she chimes back at him, causing him to pull out his phone.

“Oh shit. Um, here,” he says as they exchange phones, Cale fighting back another blush.

They return their phones and head back, this time taking the longer path.  They walk in a comfortable silence through the mostly quiet park, passing a few dog owners and couples along the way and exchanging small smiles as they pass.  Once they return back to the buildings, their pace picks up as they return to the normal chaos of the city.  

---

They make their way to the station both lost in thought.  They walk side by side, each in their personal space, but neither one is uncomfortable with that.  They slow down once the station’s sign becomes visible, wanting to savor their last few minutes together.  

They reach the entrance and Cale turns to face KJ, opting to pull her into a hug.  “Text me when you get home, yeah?” he murmurs into her ear.  

His deep voice causes her to shiver slightly.  She nods, inhaling his scent for the first time before pulling away.  They say their goodbyes for the time being.  Cale watches her walk into the station.  He waits a few seconds before heading to his building. He decides to take the stairs, climbing up the flights to pass the time.  He gets to his floor, checking his phone for any missed messages from KJ.  Devon texts him again, probably annoyed at the lack of response.  Ignoring that, he gets ready for bed, replacing his contacts with glasses and packs what he’ll need for tomorrow to kill time. He hears his phone chime and he races across the room to get it, seeing a text message appear. Unlocking his phone, he sees a message from KJ.

Kj: home [insert picture of the inside of a door]

Cale: ty. Let’s meet up again soon. I’ll cover dinner this time

Kj: 👍

Cale smiles as he heads to his bedroom, turning off lights along the way before crawling into bed and placing his glasses on the nightstand and falling asleep.