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simpjaes · 1 month

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BIG D*CK FOR DUMMIES (s.jy)

The one where you find out that your boyfriend has a huge cock and you’re not entirely sure if you can take all of it.

MDNI!!! | pls leave feedback and reblog your fave writers!

PAIRING ― jaeyun x afab reader

WORDCOUNT ― 2.4k

CONTENT ― first time, established relationship, top jaeyun, painful sex

NOTE ― this was originally written for a different idol on my other blog [ncteez] but i pictured jake in that one en o’clock episode doing this and went feral so……here’s ur giant package.

smut tags― he’s a little cocky (lmao), i guess you could say size kink but it’s more like huge cock / tiny pussy size kink, theres some crying, praising, reader gets off like almost instantly and becomes incredibly cock drunk the second he’s able to actually fuck

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Things you knew about your boyfriend before dating: he’s very protective, super smart, has good taste in music, his hands are big and warm, and he’s very down to earth.

Things you didn’t know about your boyfriend until after dating and he’s on top of you during a moody and rainy night makeout session: his cock is huge and it’s very intimidating.

One might ask, how could you have not known? Well, that’s easy. It’s a fairly new relationship and a very shy relationship at that. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, actually, because it’s not like you don’t want to be intimate with him. You definitely do, and apparently so does he.

It’s the first time in the three weeks you’ve been dating that you’ve gotten to be completely alone with him in an intimate setting. For one, you live with your parents, and secondly, he lives with three other dudes who like to be all up in his business. It’s not exactly easy to get alone time with him. Thankfully, your parents are out on a five-day holiday somewhere in the Bahamas and you’re here on your family couch with Jaeyun’s hands cradling your neck as you kiss him.

It got heated very fast, presumably because the two of you haven’t really had the privacy to do more than a standing makeout session without someone listening in, or worse, walking in. It almost makes the air feel electric now, kind of like a breath of fresh air except the fresh air tastes like the fruity chewing gum he had in his mouth when he originally came over.

Here’s the thing though, and man, it’s a thing. Looking at Jaeyun you’d think he’s average at best and you’re not really the type to go around guessing dick sizes. So, naturally, when he slots a leg between yours as he got on top of you and you fucking felt it against your leg, you were a little more shocked than anticipated. Maybe he let out a little snide chuckle at your reaction too, you wouldn’t know, you were kind of busy wondering when he was going to let you in on the secret.

Now, here you are deep in thought of how the hell that thing is going to fit anywhere while simultaneously one hundred percent willing to make it fit because god, does he know how to makeout and feel someone up.

The more he kisses you, the more his hands roam, the more you experience intimate touches with him, the more you feel like your skin is on fire and replacing that intimidation with extreme arousal and lust. All the way until the point that the presumed makeout playlist starts over and he finally pushes a bit further with you.

“Is this okay?” He asks, now slotting himself entirely between your legs and essentially pressing his length directly against the pool that is threatening to seep through your fucking denim shorts.

You give him a half nod, trying to pretend that he’s definitely a normal man with a normal cock. He smiles though, knowing full well that this isn’t what you were expecting. No one ever expects it from him.

“You seem occupied,” he comments, pressing himself against you a little more and leaning down on his arms to nip at your lips. “or shocked, maybe?”

You try to kiss him to shut him up, not wanting to expose yourself for being entirely inexperienced with a size like his.

“Hm?” He encourages you, pulling back again and looking directly into your eyes with a confident smirk.

“Well,” you shift your eyes away and sigh out, “you’re kind of huge…”

He takes that compliment and runs with it. It’s not like the two of you have to finally have sex or anything, but you both knew what was happening and you both definitely knew what the other wanted. At least ten minutes ago that was the situation.

“Is it too much?” He asks, this time a bit more concerned that his own biology could ruin this for you.

“Probably? no, maybe?”

Jaeyun pulls away from you, moving himself to sit back against the couch and give you your space. Considering probably and maybe isn’t a yes, he feels no need to push or pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. There have been times where he’s hurt another person while being intimate, though not intentionally, he’s not exactly willing to do that to you unless you’re like, you know, jumping his bones for it.

“Still, i’d like to try–” You start, looking at him as you sit up and feel your entire body tingle at the cold air that replaces his warmth. “Maybe if we take it slow– like, really slow?”

He looks at you with shining eyes. He asked you to be his girlfriend because he genuinely likes you. He likes your voice, he likes the way you smell, likes when you talk about your favorite songs and favorite movies. He was definitely smitten from the moment he saw you trip on your own two feet down the front porch of a house party months ago. Taking it slow with you was pretty normal, and the fact that you want him too just makes him all the more willing to take his time.

“I’ll take care of you, ” he hums, spreading his legs a bit across the couch to give himself more space to re-adjust himself. “Just tell me if I need to slow down?”

You nod, staring directly between his legs and rubbing your own together on instinct. If anyone’s gonna split you open, it might as well be your boyfriend.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The fact that he even used his tongue on you for the first time, making sure you were more slippery than you already were for another twenty minutes? The fucking fact that you were on the verge of orgasm when he pulled it out and presented it to you like a cock you could totally sit on without issue?

Fuck.

Reality washes over you far too quickly when you actually make that attempt.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel like you were being torn apart by him, but part of you loves the way his gentle hands hold you steady as you try to sink down. You can feel the wet heat between your legs coat his length inch by inch as you start to slide down.

He stops you only for a moment when he notices you wincing.

“Breathe, baby, just a little more.” He encourages, getting a nod from you before guiding you down further.

You breathe, clenching around him and doing your best to stop doing that so you can relax. You can tell he’s struggling to actually take it slow by now too, only because you can feel his hands shake against you as he holds himself back from obliterating you, probably. You’d think it would be quite endearing to see, if it weren’t for the fact that your eyes are blurring from the tears threatening to fall.

Feeling embarrassed, you wipe your eyes and focus on how he feels inside of you. The pain is still there, but as you “sit” here, that pain somehow does replace itself with a strange sensation of pleasure little by little. You’ve always wondered what it felt like to be full, and it appears that this is exactly it.

It’s overwhelming.

“Do you want to stop?” He asks after noticing your tears, a bit of panic in his voice despite the fact that you could have sworn hearing a moan come out alongside it, “Pull up, it’s okay, you can–”

You sink down further instead, now bottoming yourself out on him and releasing a broken whine of both pain and pleasure. He grunts in unison to your whine, gripping your hips even harder than he already was and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Fuck,” he sighs out, lazily opening his eyes to look at the way you perch yourself on him so perfectly. “Such a tight fit.”

You nod, mostly unable to hear a word he’s saying as you try to relax your body enough to get rid of that small hint of pain. The consistent clenching of your adjustments send your boyfriend spiraling a bit, unable to contain his sighs of pleasure as your tight and wet heat squeezes his cock.

“Tell me when I can move, please, tell me–” He groans out almost frantically, staring down at where you sit flush against him and wanting so badly to fuck into you.

He’s wanted to do this to you since you started dating, now that it’s finally happening, and now that you’re quite literally jerking him off simply by adjusting to his size– you know, it’s not exactly easy to contain himself.

You take a few more seconds to breathe before your body finally relaxes and you give him a reluctant nod.

Instantly it’s like you’re seeing stars. He barely moves, all he does is flex his abs and press his hips up and it’s like he manages to fit another non-existent inch inside of you.

You groan out, falling forward against his chest and gripping onto his shoulders as you feel your body adjust to even that small movement. To you, this is so fucking embarrassing, but to him?

Hottest thing ever. Really.

He can hear your whiny gasps against his neck when he moves and it’s driving him fucking wild, especially considering the fact that his cock is driven so deeply inside of you that he thinks you’d tell him to stop— but you don’t.

You’re so good to him, and for what it’s worth, he wants to make sure this will be the best orgasm of your life.

Slowly, his hands fall to your ass and guide you up. You feel slight relief as a few inches leave you, and your stomach bubbles with that same sensation of both pleasure and pain when he slides you back down.

He moans out at you, almost like he’s cooing in pity at how much you’re trying to take for him. It’s incredibly sexy to hear now that your ears have stopped ringing and you’re beginning to believe that you’d never want anything smaller than him anyway.

This time, you lift on your own and sink back down just as fast, wincing again against his neck but releasing a moan that sounds more like pleasure than anything else. He sees this as a green light, gripping your ass and encouraging you to lift slightly again.

“Stay like this.” he mutters with a deep breath before kissing against your forehead and thrusting his hips up once, hard.

The tight heat you’re offering sends him into a frenzy when paired with the wet slap of his pelvis hitting your pussy, and the sounds you’re making offer little in terms of stopping because by now, you’re both loving it.

He thrusts into you with ease, the drag loud and slippery, the moans of pleasure you release only make him go faster, harder. Almost releasing a whimper of his own at how fucking perfect you are for taking all of it.

“Look.” he tries to let out, waiting for you to pull yourself up from his chest and look at him.

You do with ease, that broken face from before now replaced with lustful and blown out pupils.

“Look how good you take it,” he praises with a groan, almost punctuating each word with a thrust, “knew you could take it.”

Your broken smile that falls into a slack mouthed string of nonsense only continues to push him. All the way until you can’t think straight at all, and you’re feeling your body tense up with such pressure that you can’t even warn him before your walls are clenching so tightly that it even hurts him.

You grasp onto him for dear life as your orgasm washes over you, drenching his entire length as you hold your breath. Never have you gotten off while feeling so fucking full, and arguably, you don’t think you could ever feel an orgasm so intense without him being the one to split you open.

“There you go baby.” he hums, watching you breathlessly fall apart on top of him before picking up his rhythm again and chasing his own high.

By this point, you’re so well adjusted that even the searing pain of his restless thrusts feel good. Your brain is foggy but you can’t help but just fucking watch him.

This is your boyfriend and this is what it looks like when you’re making him feel good.

“Are you close?” you start to bounce on him, meeting his rhythm and allowing him to rest his own hips.

He nods as he looks at you, awestruck with how you’re already able to ride him as if you weren’t whining just moments before. Seeing you take him in full like this is enough to have his cock pulsing.

“Just a bit more, baby.” He closes his eyes and runs his hands up your waist. “Keep riding me, fuck.”

And that, you do. Feeling proud of yourself for being able to actually take this literal monster, you focus on the twitch inside of you as he releases with a deep and breathy moan.

It’s entirely too sexy to ignore, and you continue to bounce even as he tries to hold you in place to subdue the sensitivity of his cock being fucking strangled by how tight you are.

Once his body stops jerking and you feel the last twitching release inside of you, you fall forward and both of you groan from the sensitivity.

“There are pros and cons to having a big dick, i guess.” he admits in a groan.

Even when you laugh, there’s another wince from both of you followed by a groan.

“Pros: big dick.” he whispers, holding you still against him so you don’t move again before he can soften up and pull out. “Cons: big dick.”

You still laugh, and it still hurts.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

me and my lame ass endings lmfaooooooooooooooooo

#enhypen smut #jake smut #jaeyun smut #enha smut #sim jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut

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ncteez · 1 year

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BIG COCK: for dummies (s.c)

the one where you find out that your boyfriend has a huge cock and you’re not entirely sure if you can take all of it.

prompt: just a little more + look how good you take it

ao3 | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do.

WORDCOUNT― 2.3k

PAIRING― seungcheol x afab reader

CONTENT― first time, established relationship, top seungcheol, mentions of pain but it is consenting.

NOTE― this was written on a whim for fun, i am very well aware that this is drastically different compared to what i usually write!! that being said, pls ignore the title, it was either that or something worse. anyway, here’s a huge package for yall.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― he’s a little cocky (lmao), i guess you could say size kink but it’s more like huge cock / tiny pussy size kink (im not about that life of forcing a reader to be tiny smol baby gorl), theres some crying, praising, reader gets off like almost instantly the second he’s able to actually fuck

Things you knew about your boyfriend before dating: he’s very protective, super beefy, has good taste in music, his hands are big and warm, and he’s very down to earth.

Things you didn’t know about your boyfriend until after dating and he’s on top of you during a moody and rainy night make out session: his cock is huge and it’s very intimidating.

It’s the first time in the three weeks you’ve been dating that you’ve gotten to be completely alone with him in an intimate setting. For one, you live with your parents, and secondly, he lives with three other dudes who like to be all up in his business. It’s not exactly easy to get alone time with him. Thankfully, your parents are out on a five-day holiday somewhere in the Bahamas and you’re here on your family couch with Seungcheol’s hands cradling your neck as you kiss him.

It got heated very fast , presumably because the two of you haven’t really had the privacy to do more than a standing makeout session without someone listening in, or worse, walking in. It almost makes the air feel electric now, kind of like a breath of fresh air except the fresh air tastes like the fruity chewing gum he had in his mouth when he originally came over.

Here’s the thing though, and man , it’s a thing. Looking at Seungcheol you’d think he’s average at best and you’re not really the type to go around guessing dick sizes. So, naturally, when he slots a leg between yours as he got on top of you and you fucking felt it against your leg, you were a little more shocked than anticipated. Maybe he let out a little snide chuckle at your reaction too, you wouldn’t know, you were kind of busy wondering when he was going to let you in on the secret.

“You seem occupied,” he comments, pressing himself against you a little more and leaning down on his arms to nip at your lips. “or shocked, maybe?”

You try to kiss him to shut him up, not wanting to expose yourself for being entirely inexperienced with a size like his.

“Hm?” He encourages you, pulling back again and looking directly into your eyes with a confident smirk.

“Well,” you shift your eyes away and sigh out, “you’re kind of huge,”

“Is it too much?” He asks, this time he’s actually a bit concerned that his own biology could ruin this for you.

“Probably? no, maybe?”

Seungcheol pulls away from you, moving himself to sit back against the couch and give you your space. Considering probably and maybe isn’t a yes, he feels no need to push or pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. There have been times where he’s hurt another person while intimate, though not intentionally, he’s not exactly willing to do that to you unless you’re like, you know, jumping his bones for it.

“Still, i’d like to try–” you start, looking at him as you sit up and feel your entire body tingle at the cold air that replaces his warmth. “maybe if we take it slow– like, really slow ?”

“I’ll take care of you, ” he hums, spreading his legs a bit across the couch to give himself more space to re-adjust himself, “just tell me if I need to slow down?”

You nod, staring directly between his legs and rubbing your own legs together on instinct. If anyone’s gonna split you open, it might as well be your boyfriend.

When he said he would take it slow with you, he really meant it. The fact that he curled three fingers into you for a solid twenty minutes and you still feel like your legs will buckle on you at any moment knowing that this is just for prep– the fact that he even used his tongue on you for the first time, making sure you were more slippery than you already were for another twenty minutes. The fucking fact that you were on the verge of orgasm when he pulled it out and presented it to you like a cock you could totally sit on without issue.

Reality washes over you far too quickly when you actually make that attempt.

He stops you only for a moment when he notices you wincing.

“Breathe, babe, just a little more,” he encourages, getting a nod from you before guiding you down further.

You breathe, clenching around him and doing your best to stop doing that so you can relax. You can tell he’s struggling to actually take it slow by now though, you can feel his hands shake against you as he holds himself back from obliterating you, probably. You’d think it would be quite endearing to see, if it weren’t for the fact that your eyes are blurring from the tears threatening to fall.

“Do you want to stop?” He asks after noticing your tears, a bit of panic in his voice despite the fact that you could have sworn hearing a moan come out alongside it, “pull up, it’s okay, you can–”

“Fuck,” he sighs out, lazily opening his eyes to look at the way you perch yourself on him so perfectly, “such a tight fit,”

“Tell me when I can move,” he groans out, staring down at where you sit flush against him and wanting so badly to fuck into you. He’s wanted to do this to you since you started dating, now that it’s finally happening, and now that you’re quite literally jerking him off simply by adjusting to his size– you know, it’s not exactly easy to contain himself.

You take a few more seconds to breathe before your body finally relaxes and you give him a nod.

Instantly it’s like you’re seeing stars. He barely moves, all he does is flex his abs and press his hips up and it’s like he manages to fit another non-existent inch inside of you.

You groan out, falling forward against his chest and gripping his shoulders as you feel your body adjust to even that small movement. To you, this is so fucking embarrassing, but to him? Hottest thing ever. Really.

He can hear your whiny gasps against his neck and it’s driving him fucking wild, especially considering the fact that his cock is driven so deeply inside of you that he thinks you’d tell him to stop— but you don’t.

You’re so good to him, and for what it’s worth, he wants to make sure this will be the best orgasm of your life.

“Stay like this,” he mutters with a deep breath before kissing against your forehead and thrusting his hips up himself.

The tight heat you’re offering sends him into a frenzy, and the sounds you’re making offer little in terms of stopping because by now, you’re both loving it.

He thrusts into you with ease now, the sounds of your glistening thighs slapping against his own each time he presses up are enough to make him go faster, harder.

“Look,” he tries to let out, waiting for you to pull yourself up from his chest and look at him.

You do with ease, that broken face from before now replaced with lustful and blown-out pupils.

“look how good you take it,” he praises with a groan, almost punctuating each word with a thrust, “knew you’d love it.”

Your broken smile that falls into a slack-mouthed string of none sense only continues to push him. All the way until you can’t think straight at all, and you’re feeling your body tense up with such pressure that you can’t even warn him before your walls are clenching around him so tightly that it hurts even him.

You grasp onto him for dear life as your orgasm washes over you, drenching his entire length as you hold your breath. Never have you come while feeling so fucking full, and never will you come again without this feeling of being impossibly stretched open.

“There you go,” he hums, watching you breathlessly fall apart on top of him before picking up his rhythm again and chasing his own high.

By this point, you’re so well-adjusted that even the searing pain of his restless thrusts feels good. Your brain is foggy but you can’t help but just fucking watch him.

This is your boyfriend and this is what it looks like when you’re making him feel good.

“Are you close?” you start to bounce on him, meeting his rhythm and allowing him to rest his own hips.

He nods as he looks at you, awestruck with how you’re already able to ride him as if you weren’t whining just moments before. Seeing you take him in full like this is enough to have him releasing.

“Just a bit more, babe,” he closes his eyes and runs his hands up your waist, “keep riding me, fuck.”

And that, you do. Feeling proud of yourself for being able to actually take this literal monster, you focus on the twitch inside of you as he releases with a deep and breathy moan.

It’s entirely too sexy to ignore, and you continue to bounce even as he tries to hold you in place to subdue the sensitivity of his cock being fucking strangled by how tight you are.

Once his body stops jerking and you feel the last twitching release inside of you, you fall forward and both of you groan from the sensitivity.

“There are pros and cons to having a big dick,” he admits with a sigh.

Even when you laugh, there’s another wince from both of you followed by another groan.

“Pros: big dick,” he whispers, holding you still against him so you don’t move again before he can soften up and pull out. “cons: big dick.”

You still laugh, and it still hurts.

You’d do it again though, definitely.

#seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut

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fbfh · 10 months

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busy busy busy (but never too busy for you) - dad!tony + stark!reader

wc: 1.5k

pairing: dad!tony + (gn) stark!reader

genre: minor hurt/mostly comfort

warnings: needing to spend time with your parent, crying, emotional comfort, if you have daddy issues this one's gonna hurt lol

summary: after traveling with your dad on business, you find yourself missing spending time with him. Tony can't have that, of course.

song rec: walking the wire - imagine dragons

a/n: first fic finished post top surgery!!!!!!! the next few weeks posts will probs be shorter until I finish chapter 1 of the next multichapter fic lol. Also if I didn't say it recently I love you guys, thank you so much for all your love and support <333 PS if you need more personalized dad!tony.... character.ai works well for that lmao

tags @afidiofobia @lizziebitch33 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @dustyinkpages @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @liberty-barnes @followingthefanfiction @youkissedareaderinthedark @girlfriendwhoseawitch @mrscarolscaramoucheplease

You climb into the car, settling into the plush leather seat as Happy closes the door next to you. You set down your bag and try to get your seatbelt buckled while your dad sits next to you, wrapping up a phone call.

“No, no. I don’t care. I said-” He stops, listening to someone on the other end for a moment. He’s clearly annoyed. He’s had to deal with people simultaneously trying to kiss his ass and tell him what to do all week, and you can tell he’s getting tired of it.

“Throw as many conferences as you want, they’ll all be Stark-less. Throw a whole party, while you’re at it- you know what? No, don’t do that. I might actually show up to that.” He mutters the last part, something that would normally make you laugh. He glances over at you, but you’re still fussing with your seatbelt.

“Alright, how about this. I’ll refer you to Stark Industries CEO, Pepper Potts.” The person on the other end is already objecting, but your dad couldn’t care less at this point. He’s said what he needed to say, and this idiot doesn’t want to listen. He continues to wrap up this disastrous phone call as the car pulls into the street, and starts driving you to the airport.

“She’ll help you get this sorted out.”

He hangs up without saying goodbye, then looks over at you. As soon as he does, he knows something’s wrong. You’re not yourself. You’re staring at the bottom of the seat in front of you instead of out the window, or going on your phone. Usually you can’t wait for him to finish business calls, sometimes texting him in the middle of them - texts he’s always happy to receive. You’ve rescued him from pointless conference calls with those texts more times than he can count. You always have something to tell him or update him on, whether that be the latest social media drama, friend group drama, the show you’re watching on Netflix, or even Avengers memes you find online. You always have something delightful you’re excited to share with him without even having to try, and it lights up his day each time. Except now, with you staring into space.

He hands you the coffee he got you, taking his out of the cardboard holder that had been resting on his lap until now. You look over briefly, accepting the drink.

“Thanks,” you say lightly, but there’s something in your tone that tips him off.

“You okay, kid?”

You pause sipping your drink, wondering how he figured you out so fast. He’s your dad, you suppose. That’s kind of his job. You thought you’d been doing an okay job at masking the hollow sadness that’s been eroding you from the inside out all weekend. It doesn’t happen too often, and you tried everything you could to distract yourself until it stopped working. Until now.

“Is it school? Boys? Girls?” He asks when you don’t answer right away. There’s a note of humor to his voice, but there’s also a sincerity, and you know that even if it was school or boys or girls that he would help you through it. “C’mon, you gotta keep your old man up to date on all the tea. The hot goss.”

You let out a weepy chuckle, tracing the lid of your drink. He’s always the first to know when your Starbucks order changes, and he always knows exactly the perfect drink to get you without even having to ask. It’s a little thing, but it makes you feel even worse. You’ve spent the whole weekend trying to ignore how much you’ve been missing your dad, missing spending one on one time with him that’s not in between meetings or over a late dinner. He works so hard, and he has so much on his plate, but he always makes time for you.

That’s why he started taking you along on business trips like this, because you both hated being away from each other. Usually it’s fine, usually you’re off exploring whatever city you’re in, going shopping, or generally finding somewhat entertaining ways to pass the time that you can tell him about next time you catch up. It’s usually really fun, too. It’s just when it gets busy like this, you think, when he has all these meetings and you have all your stuff that you’re juggling that you start to get like this.

“No, no,” you say softly, rubbing the bottom of your eyes when they start to get misty. “Nothing like that…”

Tony listens intently in the silence that follows, waiting to see if you have more to share with him. The smell of his cologne is paternal and comforting, a familiar reassurance that floats around him and feels like a hug.

“I just miss you, I guess…” you start, speaking your mind before you can even think. Your dad has that effect on you, it’s so easy to share how you feel and what you’re excited for or worried about that it feels automatic sometimes, like it’s impossible not to. Tony feels his heart break as he realizes what a toll all the recent traveling has taken on you, both of you. He pulls you in for a tight hug. You feel the tears you’ve been fighting start to spill, Tony rubs your back reassuringly and it finally feels safe enough to.

He tries not to dwell on the fact that you got to feel like this in the first place, tries not to let that voice tell him he should have noticed how you felt sooner, that he’s a terrible dad, because he knows inside that he’s not. He’s not his father, and he sure as hell won’t make those mistakes. He could let himself worry about how he’s doing with you, let it keep him up at night - hell, it still does some nights, even when he doesn’t want it to. It’s been that way with you since he became your dad. Instead of worrying about that, he does what he does best. He takes action.

“You are such a sweet kid.” He states, pressing a kiss on your forehead when you pull away. He brushes away the tears spilling down your cheeks. “Unfortunately, sometimes being a genius-billionaire-superhero-superdad requires some meetings and boring stuff. But don’t think I forgot about the most important part of that.”

The dad part. He doesn’t even have to say it, you both know that’s where he’s going with this. You nod along, sighing as your breathing starts to slow back down.

“But you’re right. It has gotten to be too much lately.”

He reaches into the small mini fridge sitting between the driver’s and passenger seats, crisply cold and stocked with both your favorite drinks. He grabs a water bottle, opening it and handing it to you.

“How about this? We’ll spend the whole plane ride back watching movies together - or that show you were telling me about, the one with- god, what’s his name…” He tries to remember the name of that actor you’ve been talking about the last few days, and you chuckle, supplying the answer. He snaps his fingers in recognition, repeating it back to you.

“Yes. That’s the one. We’ll watch all those movies, and you brainstorm what we’re going to do this weekend. Dream big, kid. I’ll have Pepper help you organize the whole thing.”

Your eyes widen in excitement, and you hug him tightly again.

“Thanks, dad.” You smile. You really are both long overdue for some quality time together, and Tony knows if he has to attend one more meeting, he’s going to lose his mind. The cave he built his first arc reactor in was more interesting than some of the people he’s spoken to recently.

“I love you, kid.”

He looks at you fondly for a moment, basking in pride at what a wonderful, amazing person you’ve become. It’s not time for him to get all sappy on you with the dad stuff, not quite yet, so before he can, he grabs a fluffy throw blanket and spreads it across you.

“Now, we’ve got a big weekend ahead of us, so get some shut eye. I’ll wake you when we get to the airport.”

Right before you start to doze off, you hear him on the phone with Pepper, filling her in on the plan.

“Alright, so they’ve got about 25 more minutes of Stark business time, then I’m off the grid till monday.” Pepper says something about how they’re not going to like that, and Tony laughs, glancing over at you sleeping peacefully. “They don’t have to.”

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libraryofgage · 8 months

Text

SpiderPool Steddie Part One

So, this is definitely gonna have multiple parts lmao

It's been bouncing around my brain for a while like the Addams Family Steddie AU lol

Anyway, lemme know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts ^_^

----

Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls is, at best, a dive bar. At worst, it's a cesspit in which the scummiest people in the city gather to bask in each other's scumminess. To Steve, however, it's the perfect place to collapse after a long patrol, splayed out like a starfish on the roof as the music playing inside vibrates the building itself.

Steve takes a deep breath, setting his bat down next to him before pushing his mask to the bridge of his nose. He then lies down on the roof, wishing not for the first time that the city's light pollution wasn't so bad. Seeing the stars and hunting for constellations would really help him ignore the cracked ribs screaming inside his chest and threatening to break if he even breathes wrong.

All things considered, though, it could be worse. Steve doesn't have any morning classes, Vecna didn't beat him up nearly as bad as he usually does during their fight earlier, and his accelerated healing means Steve will be able to breathe normally by morning. Robin would tell him he has a very low bar when it comes to judging how shitty his life currently is, but she isn't here, so her opinion doesn't matter. Dustin would tell him he should try not getting his ass whooped in the future. Thankfully, he also isn't here, making his opinion as meaningful as Robin's.

Steve closes his eyes, letting his shoulders relax and trying not to think about anything. It sort of works until his entire body suddenly tenses, every nerve on edge and goosebumps shooting across his arms. He shoots up, ignoring the harsh twinge in his ribs as he turns in a crouch and grabs his bat. Steve clenches his jaw, breathing harshly through his nose to keep from groaning in pain, and feels relieved he didn't completely remove his mask completely.

Over by the door leading to a staircase is a guy with ripped jeans, a worn-out shirt with "HELLFIRE CLUB" across the chest, a jean vest covered in patches and pins, and hair pulled back out of his face with a few wavy strands stubbornly escaping his hair tie. He's breathing a little heavily, his face flushed like he's just climbed a few flights of stairs. Actually, he probably has.

"Woah," the guy says, his voice soft enough that Steve would have missed it if not for the enhanced hearing. The guy clears his throat and holds up both hands, showing off a bottle of Jack Daniels in one and a bag with a grease-stained bottom in the other. "Uh, I come in peace. I didn't realize the rooftop was taken."

Steve has no clue what possesses him, but he forces himself to relax and set the bat down. "No, it's okay. I can head out," he says, staying seated despite his words. He's really hoping the guy will insist he doesn't need to; his ribs are still aching like a bitch.

Thankfully, the guy flashes a grin and slowly lowers his hands. "Nah, you're all good. Not every day I get to eat next to a hero. Want some fries?" he asks, walking over and sitting a good two feet away so there's plenty of room between them.

He tears open the bag to create an impromptu plate and puts it between them, the smell of greasy and undoubtedly delicious fries tempting enough that Steve picks up a smaller one and pops it into his mouth. "Thanks. Where are these from?" Steve asks, glancing over as the guy twists the cap of his bottle and takes a swig.

"A burger joint two streets down and one street over. On the corner."

Steve nods, making a mental note of the directions so he can get a burger before swinging home. He's got just enough in his pocket to afford one. "So, got a name?" Steve asks, figuring he's already eating the guy's fries and they're about to spend some time together on this roof. He should know the guy's name.

The guy's grin returns, and he sets the bottle down between them as well. It's tempting, but Steve doesn't trust his alcohol tolerance to hold up while his body is busy fixing his ribs. "Eddie. Do I get to know your name, too?"

Steve snorts and leans away slightly, putting a bit more distance between Eddie and his entirely too-grabbable mask. "Nice try," he says.

"Worth a shot," Eddie says, shrugging as he picks up a few fries. "So, Spider-Man, what brings you to Sister Margaret's? You enjoy the gay metal scene?"

"What's the difference between gay and regular metal?"

"Our hair is better," Eddie explains, dramatically flipping the few strands of hair escaping his tie.

Steve has to hold back a second snort, taking another fry and chewing on it before saying, "I like resting here after patrol. The whole building shakes with the music."

Eddie lights up, his eyes brightening and his back straightening some. "So, you're a fan of Corroded Coffin," he says, taking another swig of the Jack Daniels. It's only now that Steve realizes it's already a quarter of the way gone, and he wonders if Eddie's liver can handle that much alcohol all at once.

"Is that the name of the band?"

"Yep. They play here almost every night."

"I'm guessing you like them, too, then?"

Eddie hums, amusement dancing across his expression now, giving Steve the distinct feeling that there's some secret he simply isn't in on. "They're the best band I've ever heard. Their music is incredible. They really push the boundaries of the genre. And their lyrics? Amazingly layered with at least three meanings per line. I highly recommend actually coming in for a listen one of these days," Eddie says, leaning a little closer to Steve.

A beat of silence passes in which Steve holds Eddie's gaze. Or, he holds the gaze on his end; he's sure Eddie can't actually tell with the mask covering his eyes. "You're in the band," Steve says.

"Lead guitarist and singer, yes. I also write the songs."

"You're incredibly critical of yourself, really grounded in reality."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "I just happen to know my worth incredibly well."

"You have all the confidence of a mediocre white man on a job hunt."

Eddie gasps, placing a hand on his chest as he looks at Steve. "How dare you call me mediocre. I am revolutionary at worst and the second coming at best."

"You know the second coming involves, like, an apocalypse or something, right?"

"I'm Jewish, why would I bother with the fine details?" Well, Steve will give him that. "By the way," Eddie says, gesturing to Steve's bat as he continues, "do those nails actually see any use? Or are they just there to act as a threat?"

Steve looks down at his bat, considering it for a moment before carefully holding the middle and offering the handle to Eddie. Now that he's giving them a few moments of attention, he's realizing the nails embedded in the end are a little rusty and definitely need cleaning. "I try not to be deadly with it, but Vecna's got these lab-grown demon dogs and bats that always manage to break through my webs," Steve explains.

He watches as Eddie takes the bat, weighing it in his hands before shoving his palm into the nails. Steve jerks, a wordless shout escaping his throat as he launches himself over the fries and in front of Eddie. "Are you okay?!" he asks, grabbing Eddie's hand and shakily inspecting the nails sticking through it. Fuck, those are going to be a bitch to get out, and he'll probably have to swing Eddie to the hospital for a tetanus shot.

Being angry doesn't even register in his brain as Eddie laughs. "Don't worry about it, Spidey," he says, pulling his hand off the nails with a slight wince. He wiggles his fingers, letting Steve have a front-row seat to the injuries closing. "See, good as new."

And he's right. The injuries are good as new. In fact, there isn't even any scarring, and Steve almost rips his mask off to take a closer look but stops himself at the last minute. Instead, he grabs Eddie's hand and yanks it closer, turning it over to check his palm, too. "What the fuck?" he asks, looking up at Eddie, still gripping his hand tight.

"Super healing," Eddie explains. "Like, super duper. If I ever get decapitated, just hold my head to my neck, and I'll be right as rain."

"I'd rather not put that claim to the test," Steve says, frowning slightly as he runs his fingers over Eddie's palms, just to make sure the injuries aren't somehow hidden from sight.

"You know, I kissed the last guy who touched my palm like that," Eddie says, leaning in again with that grin.

Suddenly all Steve can think about is how Eddie's lips do look soft. And it has been a while since Steve actually kissed anyone. And he does think Eddie is funny. And he does find himself wondering if his smile will taste like the Jack Daniels and fries. And...and...

And Steve needs to go before he does anything he shouldn't be doing as Spider-Man.

He jerks back, dropping Eddie's hand like it burns, and ignores the ache in his ribs as he grabs his bat and stands. "I, uh, I need to get going. Thanks for the fries, Eddie," he says, hurrying over to the edge of the roof.

"Woah, just gonna eat and run on me, big boy?" Eddie asks, scrambling to his feet and over to where Steve is climbing onto the edge of the roof. "That's not very hero-like of you. You haven't even left me your name or number. How are you gonna pay me back $2.50 for the fries?"

"I had five," Steve says, turning to look at Eddie as he webs his bat to his back and pulls his mask down over his chin.

"The economy sucks, man."

Okay, he's got Steve there. Again. "Nice try, Eddie."

"Can you blame a guy? Your ass looks great in that spandex."

Steve is suddenly relieved his mask is back down, covering the furious blush spreading across his cheeks. He'd think it was just a joke, but the sincere and somewhat goofy smile tugging at Eddie's lips tells him it's more genuine than anything else. "Thanks," Steve says, giving Eddie a two-finger salute before taking a step back off the roof.

He shoots a web at the edge of the building, using the momentum to swing around the corner. His ribs are killing him with the movement, but he still manages to throw a, "See you later, Eds!" over his shoulder before he's completely out of earshot.

Later, Steve will wonder how Eddie got his super healing, if he's that flirtatious with every guy he meets on the roof of Sister Margaret's, and if he'll be there the next time Steve swings by. But that's for later. For now, he's just enjoying the breeze rushing over him and thinking about Eddie's eyes and his smile and his long fingers.

#Steddie #Spiderpool Steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #spiderman steve harrington #deadpool eddie munson #it'll make sense i promise #also Eddie goes back into the bar and immediately starts bragging about flirting with spider-man #everyone immediately knows he's about to become Annoying (TM)#and resign themselves to their fate #Robin does the exact same when Steve gets home and tells her about Eddie #RIP everyone who has to live with these two gushing about each other

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not-quite-there-myself · 8 months

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Hello! I think that my req wasn’t sent because of Tumblr’s technical reasons so… Please ignore it if you’ve received the previous one.

Firstly, I want to say that I’ve read all of the fan-fictions that were published here since the first day of this blog being even created. I monitor the food fantasy tag every single day because I’m really starving for any content dedicated to this game like a wild hungry animal so when I saw this blog I was so happy! I felt such a pure sense of joy that I almost cried out loud lmao. Thank you for your hard work! Love this blog.

And secondly. If it’s okay, can I request like any work with Whisky x reader? I’d want it to be fluffy, romantic and sweet but that’s literally Whisky so it’s pretty hard to write something normal with him… That’s why I don’t want to put limits on you. Just do as you wish about everything. I just want to read anything about this crazy man.

I hope that I’m not bothering and causing any discomfort. Sorry for being so talkative and annoying! Have a good day.

Sweater Weather

Synopsis: Autumn was just around the corner when you and Whiskey decided to take a walk. It was mostly his idea; after seeing you busying yourself with restaurant preparations, he thought that you deserved a small break from your duties and spend some time with him... But is that really all he's after? Notes: 800+ words; romantic(ish?) fluff; ambiguous ending; gender neutral Master Attendant A/N: No need to worry anon, you are not causing me any discomfort or annoyance. If anything, I’m so happy I’m not the only one looking through the Food Fantasy tag! I had no idea how to do this request but I tried my best to make it as "romantic" as I could without breaking too much character. Thanks for requesting! I hope you enjoy.

The leaves of most trees began to change colour and fall, cluttering the cobblestone streets with signs that winter was next to appear. The days throughout the week were cloudy, but today that was not the case.

"It's a perfect day to take a walk, wouldn't you say?"

Whiskey had invited himself into your quarters that morning, pulling you away from your work. You raised a brow at him, questioning what exactly he wanted from you to prompt him to ask such a thing out of the blue. He feigned a look that suggested he was hurt by your words, even putting a hand over his chest to express something akin to heartache.

"My Attendant, you wound me. Can't someone simply ask you to step away from your work and get some fresh air? I hear today is a wonderful time for that."

You look out a window to see for yourself. He was right about that, and you felt all the more suspicious about him. But then, what harm would it do to step away from your desk for a while? Nothing specific struck you as odd.

Eventually, you just sighed and gave in. "Alright, alright. I guess I wouldn't mind stretching my legs anyway."

To your surprise, Whiskey had already prepared your jacket and shoes, as well as a scarf you found unfamiliar. "Whiskey," you say, taking it and looking at him. "This isn't mine."

He smiles. "Of course it isn't. But you can have it, if you'd like." When you ask him what he meant by that, he ignores your query and gingerly takes the scarf from your hands. He then proceeds to wrap it around your neck.

"Ah- Whiskey, I can do it myself..." You mumble.

"Of course you can," he replies.

You huff as you begrudgingly let Whiskey assist you in getting ready to go out. It was as if you were a toddler. But the way he treated you so far was unusually soft...

You pushed back your train of thought as soon as Whiskey put his hand on the door's knob and escorted you out first. "After you," he motions with a slight bow. You nod and exit the restaurant, Whiskey closing the door when the two of you are outside.

After a while of walking, you found yourself less tense... Well actually, you only really knew that because Whiskey pointed it out to you. He would mention several things about you as the two of you ventured out into the chilly autumn day. Fallen leaves crunching under your feet and the occasional attempts at conversation were the only things you really heard.

Eventually, Whiskey's words got increasingly flattering, and you halted in the middle of the side walk just to ask, "Whiskey, what is up with you today? What you're saying... you don't really mean that, so what are you trying to do?"

He stops as well, turning to you and pushing up his glasses. "My Attendant, do you really think I'm up to no good?" His expression doesn't falter when you nod. "Ah... I see." He continues walking and you can't help but call after him.

"Hey! You didn't answer my question!" You half-run to catch up beside him; he's quite the fast walker, and the only reason why you didn't notice was because he'd been slowing down his pace to match your casual stride. "Whiskey, tell me straight. First you're entering my quarters and asking me to walk with you, then you help me get ready, which, you know I can definitely do on my own, and now you're complimenting me." Now that you said it all out loud you kind of felt embarrassed, your face warming.

"It almost feels like you're trying to ask me out or something." But that's silly, because it's Whiskey and he doesn't like anyone that way, nevermind just liking people in general.

"And what if I am?" He says nonchalantly. Whiskey stops walking again when you fall slightly behind him.

"Huh?" You stare at him. He's probably joking.

Without warning Whiskey leans closer to your face, a small smirk appearing on his face as he repeats himself, "And what if I am?"

Absolutely flabberghasted and speechless you are.

The audacity of this man.

You can't believe him, and yet you can at the same time. Maybe he was being genuine. You weren't really sure. It is Whiskey though, so no one would blame you for not being sure. But in your chest your heart sped up, your face warmed, and, despite the chill in the air, your hands started to sweat. Your mouth opened and closed as if to say something, but you remained tongue-tied as Whiskey chuckled lowly at your reaction.

He steps back from you to let you relax and ponders aloud, "Could it be that you finally believe me now, My Attendant?"

You believe him.

#nqt writing #food fantasy #ff whiskey #ff master attendant #fluff

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narastories · 5 months

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Hi Nara, I hope you had a good day!

For Fanfic Writer Friday, do you want to tell me what you're working on (if you are on something currently)?

And if you've got time, I'd love to hear your opinion about the use of the past or present tense in fanfic, because it always gives me so much trouble. I don't really have a logic for using one or the other, so I'd like to know yours.

Thank you <3

Hi! Yes, thank you, I had a great day <3

Ooh, these are two very interesting questions.

I'm sort of working on something... By working, I mean writing notes in my notebook and trying to figure out how to tackle this idea ^^" I really want to write a Dresden Files/FPA crossover! (Let's see if by announcing it publicly I can successfully shame me into going through with it... I doubt it, but we'll try it...)

I've never actually written a crossover, so that's already a bit daunting. Having to juggle twice as many characters/ships as I would normally is also a challenge... Currently, I'm trying to decide what POV/s to use, and how not to make this too long. But I think it would be fun to draw some parallels between the characters, and it would also be fun to bring two of the fandoms I like together like this.

Another, perhaps silly consideration is that I now have 99 fics on AO3... To make the 100th one a little bit special would be cool. (Okay, that might not happen because I have already uploaded my Yuletide fic, and I'm not actually sure where AO3 will put it in the order of fics once the authors are revealed on Jan 1st...)

Anyway, wish me luck, I can tell you that Philes would very much be on the menu ;) 2.

You're asking me this because of the tags on my last fic, right? xD

Oh dear, where do I even start? I actually wouldn't say I have a well-developed opinion on this. And I think maybe it's better if we split it into two categories: what I think of past/present tense, and how I would decide what to use.

Just from vibes alone, I would say past tense is very comfy. It sort of "disappears" because we're so used to it. No one will be turned off by you using the past tense. You can do anything with it.

Present tense, on the other hand, feels a bit more intimate to me. It can work well for a more poetic tone. It has an urgency to it like you don't know what's going to happen. But it will also very much turn some people off ^^"

I will also add that if I'm talking about multiple layers of past events, the English past tenses can give me a bit of a hard time, so using the present tense can gloriously simplify that lol

I do like reading either btw, but how do I decide what to use when writing?

I use past tense 99% of the time. (I mean, literally. I think I have 98 fics written in the past tense, wrote one in present, and I'm pretty sure the next one will be in the past tense as well lol) So I’m no expert here, although I do have some WIPs where I also used present tense and I would totally consider experimenting with it more.

To be honest, there is only one scenario where I would opt for the present tense always, and it’s the 2nd person "you" fics... Dare I say: *whispers* reader-insert. Which is a whole different can of worms altogether that we are now opening.

Personally, in my opinion, if you think old forum role playing was cool but you think self-insert fic is cringe, that’s a *skill issue*. Luckily, I have mastered my destiny and overcame feelings of cringe lmao (I'm joking, you only read what you want, of course.)

What I mean is, I find it very charming how self-insert or reader-insert fic specifically about RPG games kind of circles back around to the roots of the “role-playing” in RPG. I might not read certain types of reader-insert fics, but I think they have their rightful place in fandom.

Now, getting back to the topic of present tense lol To me, sometimes certain things will just fit better for a fic. For example, when I started writing my first Dresden Files fic, I started writing it in 3rd person, because 1st person felt intimidating. But the canon is in 1st person, and something in me knew that it just had to be done that way for the right tone, you know? (It doesn’t mean you have to stick to the way canon is written, of course. It’s more about what fits better with the mood you are going for and what effect you want to achieve.)

Same thing with my last fic: the fandom I wrote it for uses present tense and uses 2nd person for the main character. Yeah, sure you can write an OC and write 3rd person, but the right vibe I was going for was begging me to use the present tense. So yeah, in a sense it was me wanting to stick more with the canon vibe, even if that challenged me. Which is interesting because usually it’s the other way around, no?

That is a really long way of saying I tend to stick to what is closes to canon. But I think you should always listen to your gut and just write how you like it better.

Thank you for the thought-provoking questions and sorry for the long ramble.

#fanfic writer friday #tumblr ask

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tunastime · 4 months

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11 and 12 for the ask game :0

12. Funniest comment you've ever gotten in a piece of work?

HELP LMAO okay, I have to go look, because I always read through tags and some of y'all crack me UP, actually here's a few:

#I typed that as cisuma three times what the fuck is wrong with me

#faints and rolls down a hill and splashed into mud and a flock of birds begin to beat me up

#IM GONA #can i say unalive myseld on this platform #IM BECKMING A MONSTER

#op im kissing ur ring like a mafia boss

oftentimes you guys are really sweet in the tags and sometimes you're really funny, and I think @myketheartista is the funniest person alive actually (two of those are her)

11. Are you more of a planner or an improviser?

honestly? more of a planner! for fics that I know are going to be long, I need to plan, or I won't get anything done and lose my plot. for shorter ones (like the asks, or fics under 2k, something like that!) sometimes they just appear in my brain and I normally go off the cuff. a lot of my shorter fics start out as a small thing that was just in my notes app, but some of the longer things, SEN specifically, are like. months of planning! so yeah! planner I think

(ask game)

#asks #anon #ask game #hehe this one was fun #i got to go back through my notes!! very silly :3 <3 #in order: laurie. myke. prismartist

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ladyseidr · 8 months

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And another headcanon dump! TW for vaguely discussed self-harm.

by the time he's, like, 20, he's got multiple ear piercings and a septum piercing

in that same vein, planned on getting tattoos before getting scooped

only interested in the above because it's genuinely his style, not to like. get back at his dad or whatever. (like at most my william would slightly resent the fact that mike does whatever the fuck he wants with his appearance VS william forcing himself to stay so in line, if that makes sense. he's not old-fashioned regarding piercing/tattoos/etc)

bi, but has an extremely strong preference for men and masc-aligned ppl

complicated relationship with gender. like, he's fairly openly queer and interacts with other queer ppl, so he does explore gender presentation to an extent in those spaces, but hurricane isn't exactly... a queer hotspot (unless they're my portrayals in which case nobody is straight ever). still, he doesn't really hear abt IDing as nonbinary until long after the scooping. at that point, his identity as a whole is, er, complex and it's not really his priority. but he does recognize that he's nb at that point. tends to still default to using he/him pronouns and masc terminology, but comfortable with and occasionally uses they/them.

this is a headcanon i'm Tentative to post because i think ppl can be nervous because of my personal experiences, but fuck it: he absolutely struggles with self-harm. it starts in high school and honestly he never fully recovers normally. the scooping kind of, uh, gets in the way of it. he was already trying to get clean prior, but y'know. this should be a given, but he covers the wounds/scars and doesn't tell people. by default, nobody in his family knows about it.

to be clear about the above: i am comfortable exploring this topic so long as you don't try to get me to write him (or any muse) actively self-harming. i'm a grown adult, i know my limits and i'm more than capable of messaging ppl if i need things toned down. i'm also many, many years clean at this point. please don't baby me if you're interested in exploring this topic (and, on that note, i will never even allude to his self-harm unless you have explicitly told me it's okay).

def works at fred.dy's off-and-on prior to william's disappearance. fucking hates it, but also struggles to keep jobs elsewhere. prefers working at locations william isn't active at, but just keeps ending up alongside him regardless. can't escape each other and all that shit lmao

actually pretty damn intelligent but absolutely doesn't believe this abt himself

hates his father but also still loves him. yes, ever after everything. nothing about their relationship is or will ever be simple. regretfully remembers the "good times." wishes he didn't. (glad he does, because what else does he have?)

speaking specifically on my elise: loves her. resents her deeply. when he's younger, fully pegs her as a shitty mother. when older, gets it but still just can't completely forgive her. absolutely feels abandoned by her and tells her at one point in the midst of an argument

headcanon tag is a reference to this song because uh? "this is who i am / nobody said you had to like it / this is who i am / a modern tragedy / bury your mistakes / clear those bones from your closet / with wisdom there’s pain" ?????

there's literally so much more i could write but let's just fkjsdsda leave it here for now

#˖ ♡ 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃. » modern tragedy ( michael afton )#f n a f /#self-harm mention tw #implied emotional abuse tw #ask to tag /#i think abt mike i get sad that's just fn.af babey!!!

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keplercryptids · 2 years

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I REALLY HOPE YOU DON'T SEE THIS AS RUDE BUT I READ SOME OF YOUR TAGS AND I HAVE SOME QUESTIONS!

You got married in a hot air balloon??? First of all very cool, but also you mentioned that you got really bad motion sickness. Was there no test drive? Or was it like a really windy day?

Also most importantly did you know the van of burly men that followed you around? Or were they hired specifically for this job? Because I can't get over the idea of being invited to be a part of the wedding party and being told that your specific job is that you have to drive around in a van and maybe tackle the wicker basket. But I also love the image of burly men following you around on your wedding day having never met you before!!

I just love this concept and I hope you had a lovely wedding day despite the motion sickness!

yes okay so! you can pay for bigger baskets that hold 8-10 people, but i didn't want wedding guests lol so it was just me, my partner, our friend who was officiating, and the captain in the actual basket. the captain had a crew of three or four other guys who were on van duty.

not only is there no test drive when you take a hot air balloon flight, but to test the winds, the captain and his buds blow up a balloon (like, a regular-ass party balloon) with helium, let it go, and watch it for a while until it disappears. that's how they know which way the hot air balloon will go, and they approximate where it'll end up based on that. they have a bunch of landing spots predetermined but you kind of just go whatever way the wind wants to push you.

we met up with the crew in an empty lot in a big ol' subdivision, they tested the winds, and then the rest of the crew got into aforementioned van, along with my photographer (lmao bless her). and we got in the balloon and took off.

the actual flight is very, very smooth. but i got motion sick because i am me, i get motion sick on escalators lmao. i had not planned for this and probably should have, you know, stared at the horizon the whole time, but the thing about chartering a hot air balloon flight is you're flying right over people's houses. a dog was chasing us!!! people were waving from the street. it was very interesting down there and so within 25 minutes i was curled up on the bottom of the basket, trying my best not to throw up into someone's backyard.

the captain ordered an emergency landing, which meant the crew had to RACE to the nearest empty field. which was normal for them, but pretty scary for my photographer lmao. literally, as soon as the captain saw a random field that was big enough, he started the descent. the van caught up and three burly men sprinted across the field to grab the basket before it lifted back up. because hot air balloons will just DO that until you've deflated them. also, the crew needed to tip the basket over so we could get out, lol.

as a note. i don't think it's legal for them to land in any field they want, so as we were hitting the ground, the captain said, "if the cops show up, we tell them this was an emergency medical landing, got it?" he was very cool.

anyway, i instantly felt better as soon as we landed, and it led to some very beautiful sunset photos. the random field really pulled through for us.

[image description: a photo of a hot air balloon, fully inflated, resting in an open field, the sun setting behind it. End ID.]

here are some of the burly crew mentioned. they popped champagne for us in the random field and a great time was had by all.

[image description: a photo of me, my friend, my partner, and three members of the hot balloon crew standing in a field. Everybody is smiling, and most are holding small plastic cups of champagne. end ID.]

so yes, i did meet all these men on my wedding day, but they were great and it was very fun. the captain was one of the chillest dudes ever, which i think you'd have to be if you're a professional hot air balloon captain. highly recommend eloping in a hot air balloon if you can.

#jd.txt #x me a q #spouse tag

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morvantmortuary · 1 year

Text

I posted 2,470 times in 2022

That's 1,721 more posts than 2021!

223 posts created (9%)

2,247 posts reblogged (91%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@spectrologie

@marypsue

@paranormalyyourz

@spookyloop

@somethingthatsaysbubbles

I tagged 1,655 of my posts in 2022

Only 33% of my posts had no tags

#maxi vibes - 322 posts

#nice people - 210 posts

#rora vibes - 209 posts

#hector vibes - 184 posts

#the morvants and their readers - 122 posts

#morvant mortuary - 118 posts

#and then rarae says - 101 posts

#general morvant vibes tbh - 100 posts

#greymoon vibes - 71 posts

#maxi morvant - 65 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i cannot tell you how bad i want the hearse or the mustang to pull up in my parents’ driveway rn and be like ‘get in we’re bustin’ you out’

My Top Posts in 2022:

and absolutely no one’s dead (pt. I)

Maxi Morvant x genderqueer/non-binary & plus-sized Reader, 18+

Epilogue for the October Arc

summary: after the events of Halloween, you and Maxi get used to a new normal. Hector makes an unsettling discovery and then an interesting one. Rora is plotting something.

warnings: description of a panic attack, mentions of death/funerals, some minor stalking but it’s fine. Things don’t get gory and/or sexy until pt. II.

general: *facedesk* I meant to have this up before Xmas, and now it’s nine days until Valentine’s Day. I think I’m going to just do my best not to tie chapters to holidays anymore, bc we’ve seen how that goes :’D though I’m absolutely still planning some shorter things for V Day don’t get me wrong

so this is maybe... less an epilogue, and more a setting up of Arc II, because more questions developed here than maybe got answered. But I’ve been looking forward to sharing it with y’all for a while, and can’t wait to see what y’all think!

as you can guess, it’s posted in two parts bc it’s Long :’D longer than spellbound (reprise) bc apparently I can’t shut up

okay, enough of me, here we go! thanks for your patience, as always!!

See the full post

32 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

For the smut prompts: Maxi with 69 please?

“I’ll take care of you.”

Oh man, Sarah. I had entirely too much fun with this. I had no idea this little phrase would set off my brain this way.

to discover us would be fatal -

(18+, nsf tumblr/ios/apple below. the closest thing to dark!maxi I’ve ever gotten. established daddy kink, breeding kink if you squint. oral (afab receiving), bondage, blindfolding, knife kink, blood kink, fluids eating, remote vibrator, murder. reader definitely gets off while maxi’s torturing the latest offering to the House. dead dove do not eat, I am not even remotely fucking around with this one.)

See the full post

38 notes - Posted February 16, 2022

So remember when I said I couldn’t draw? I really meant it :’D

If you’re seeing this, it means it just turned midnight my time, and we’re officially in the New Year. Thank you so, so, so much to everyone who’s been kind enough to stick around since I started writing this on a lark. I know this isn’t everybody, but I went through my followers list trying to find first names of the people I see interacting with my posts a lot. Please know I definitely try to make a point to know all of you, even if I’m not super chatty most of the time, and I have probably likely mentioned you to my mom at least once lmao.

I was just telling my friends that I write with that I really didn’t expect this to get as far as it did — when I introduced Maxi on the noctes blog, I thought he might be a weird little OC who popped up every now and again for my own amusement more than anything else. But you guys were so kind and supportive from the jump, I’ve not only finished an entire arc I didn’t know I was going to write in the first place, I’m planning on editing it and revising it to be an actual manuscript that I try to query while I work on Hector’s arc here :’D I don’t totally know how that’s going to go yet, and I’ll be sure to keep you guys posted, but I know I absolutely wouldn’t be here without all of y’all. 🖤

It’s been a real honor and a pleasure getting to know all of you this year, and I appreciate every single bit of feedback and enthusiasm you’ve all been kind enough to share with me. For real. I know how hard that is to come by, especially for fic that’s entirely comprised of OCs, so please don’t think I take any of it for granted whatsoever. We may be a fairly small blog, but this is still one of the largest projects I’ve tackled on a whim, and I’m excited to see where else it will go, so long as there’s someone still willing to come with. 🖤

I owe you guys the world, and while I don’t want to jinx anything, I hope all of us get the lucky break we need this year. I know I really did with all of you. 😘

Sending huge hugs and well-wishes all around, and I look forward to sharing this year with all of you, no matter what it brings. ✨

Cheers from me and the Morvants dead and living, we love each and all of y’all. 🥂♥️

39 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

Maxi my love & 29 and/or 47 🥺🥺🥺🥺

“Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.”/“Are you holding back? Don’t.”

nonny, I am. so, so incredibly sorry it took this long. I’m sure you’ve entirely forgotten you sent this in by now, and for that, I totally understand. :’D but you will see, hopefully, why it took me a while to finish. I think this thing was 15k when I finally cut it off, and I was deeply tempted to go on.

so! when I say these two lines got in my head, I mean I took them and I ran a whole usian football field with them. I hope y’all like it, bc I certainly enjoyed myself writing it. I meant to have it up for Pride month, but alas, the best laid plans ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ here’s hoping you’ll find it just as queer now.

let me dirty up your mind (18+, mdni) --

See the full post

43 notes - Posted July 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Morvant Mortuary, Vol. I: Final Them. (The October Arc)

Maxi Morvant (male slasher/necromancer OC) x genderqueer/non-binary & plus-sized Reader, 18+ (minors dni.)

Does it look like I’m afraid of you?

chapters:

tear you apart

hunt you down (eat you alive)

a notification on Maxi’s phone at 3 am (Enter Hector)

jane doe (Enter Rora)

spellbound

lovesong (pt. I)

lovesong (pt. II)

bad moon rising (Enter Pierre, Enter Vincent)

bury us alive

you play the game, you’ll never win

and the dead start to dance in their masquerade (pt. I)

and the dead start to dance in their masquerade (pt. II) (Enter the Grey Man.)

spellbound (reprise) pt. I

spellbound (reprise) pt. II

and absolutely no one’s dead (pt. I)

and absolutely no one’s dead (pt. II)

See the full post

49 notes - Posted February 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Awww, this was fun! Thanks everyone who’s been part of our year, and @illegalcerebral for being kind enough to tag us!! 🥰

no-pressure tags: @bigtiddythanos @rosemaremembrance @maximoffwxnda @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lorna-d-m @scuttle-buttle @pondering-and-wondering (and your Clair blog!) @jmathesonandsiblings (and your personal!) @imalsonotsure @norabrice1701 @eldritchcircus @raven-blood-13 @snaxk and anyone else who wants to!! 🖤

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #nice people #and then rarae says

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marquisguyun · 1 year

Note

For the ship ask game: Jingsu!

Oh this is fun okay!! Thank you for the ask

I Ship It

1. What made you ship it?

This is actually really funny to me. I started watching the show and quickly got obsessed (not with jingsu yet). I was really enjoying the MCS/MNH dynamic! Which I still do, but now I'm in Jingsu hell so.

We were partway through the show when this year's Yuletide Exchange had sign ups, and I could tell the show would have too many fics to be eligible next year, so I wanted to go ahead and request it. I'd be done watching the show by the time reveals happened anyway!

The crazy thing about this is that it means my Yuletide letter is a kind of time capsule about my Jingsu feelings when I was halfway through the show. If you aren't familiar with Yuletide, you request characters, not ships, and your author has to incorporate all requested characters unless otherwise noted. I requested Mei Changsu & Xiao Jingyan--aka "the two characters whose relationship I'm currently the most invested in"--but at the time I "[did]n’t have super strong opinions about whether you write the two characters in a strictly platonic or more romantic relationship."

Lmao. I did get a fantastic Jingsu fic for Yuletide tho

I guess I continued getting more invested in their relationship in the latter half of the show, and tbh Nihuang wasn't around much. Still like her tho! And then once I wasn't going to terribly spoil myself I devoured the show's tag on AO3 and some really good fics cemented my interest in Jingsu as a ship!

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

Their canon relationship hits on a lot of elements that I enjoy, and I feel like as a ship I can explore these to the extreme! The stakes are a little different, and you can introduce other issues beyond the ones already present.

I love devotion, duty, and identity porn, among other things! I love the way Jingyan is just talking about Lin Shu all the time in front of Mei Changsu. In fics where they get together, I love having to deal with the fact that Jingyan is not a normal man, as a prince or emperor he can’t just marry whoever. And that’s before you get into your love interest being technically assumed dead/wanted for treason.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I don't think so? I'm not plugged into the fandom enough to know, I guess. Outside of Jingsu fans tho it might be unpopular in some circles to ship it at all? Since they're first cousins.

I guess I don’t have strong top/bottom opinions for this ship either, which may also be unpopular.

#jingsu #nirvana in fire #ask meme #i want to read the novel now too #it's on the list

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myheartismadeofstars · 1 year

Text

I posted 22,820 times in 2022

55 posts created (0%)

22,765 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@bladeobrona

@ziseviolet

@faerieshearth

@whiteknightinblackarmor

@inthemoodformoodboards

I tagged 605 of my posts in 2022

#omori - 8 posts

#lmao - 6 posts

#pokemon - 6 posts

#omori sunny - 6 posts

#omori kel - 5 posts

#tgcf - 4 posts

#hualian - 4 posts

#xie lian - 4 posts

#svsss - 4 posts

#omori hero - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#(you know sam's girlfriend who called him a creep for working at a motel and fixing her drain and forced him to take a dog he had no abilit

My Top Posts in 2022:

Headcanons for skills Nie Huaisang has that Da-ge actually approves of:

Math (while he tests very poorly, Huaisang is very good at practical math)

Astronomy (bless Fatal Journey for this)

Rites (Huaisang proves to be pretty good at remembering how ceremonies go, when he doesn’t adamantly refuse to participate, usually due to being too emptional to focus)

Archery (Huaisang is a Great archer! So long as the target isn’t moving... but he probably wouldn’t starve if he needed to hunt for himself)

Butchering (Huaisang butchered his first animal when he was seven, but he witnessed butchering since he was 3. He’s not actually afraid of blood or gore, he’s just very clean)

98 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

I think people are sleeping on the idea of Damian taking Anya's surname when they get married. Damian eventually realizes how bad his family is, and Yor and Loid have always been kind and loving. So he associates Forger with a loving family, plus Anya is so attached to Forger. Also I just like the sound of "Damian Forger"

also something something "new blood old money"

207 notes - Posted July 14, 2022

Okay I am still pretty knew to the hanfu community but I want to know: are Hanfu season specific like kimono are? Like would it look strange to wear hanfu with spring flowers on it in fall? I've looked for information on google but I don't find the right information. Obviously kimono is influenced by Hanfu but that seasonal thing could easily be something Japanese specific.

232 notes - Posted October 16, 2022

Thinking about how Leon and Hop have at least 3 adults living in their house...but LEON (who has to be ~5-8 years older than Hop) raised Hop. Like??? That’s literally the biggest red flag for a neglectful family I’ve ever seen? I wonder if Hop was an accident and Leon was the only one who really was invested in his little brother (also Hop isn’t exactly a name I would normally see for a child...but if a little kid named them?). And Leon would have learned early that mistakes could mean Hop gets sick or hurt. No wonder he became so observant and while he gets lost most of the time...he can find Hop when he’s in danger (Slumbering Weald). This means that he became very guarded so people can’t find his weaknesses, and it did benefit his pokemon training. Then Hop started looking up to him, and he started getting praised for being “Unbeatable” so he parrots it. (Because if Leon was forced to care for Hop, he probably wasn’t getting his own needs met. At the very least not his mental/emotional needs, so he probably relies on praise for his self esteem). I think Leon being defeated by Eternatus was the first time he ever was forced to rely on someone else (and it was Hop!! And Victor/Gloria) and then being dethroned as champion...it made it possible for him to finally find something for himself. He doesn’t have to be the perfect champion. He doesn’t have to raise Hop anymore (but he still adores his little brother). He can LOSE! He can MAKE MISTAKES! And Galar and Hop won’t suffer for it! He doesn’t have to be perfect anymore!

246 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I think Loid should become a father figure to Damian. Damian sees how good Loid is with Anya and Damian starts wanting his attention too. Like Loid comes to pick up Anya after a test and Damian "casually" points out that he got full marks! And Loid smiles and tells him he's impressed and that his father should be proud. Damian would still be tsundere about it, but he'd look up to Loid. Crush on Anya, looks up to Loid, lots of reason to hang out with them. Loid is thrilled that Damian talks to him all the time. And he really starts to hate Donovan after realizing how unhappy Damian is.

I just think Damian should have a good relationship with his future father-in-law! (especially if Loid picks up on his crush on Anya)

901 notes - Posted July 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #i just got into omori #but somehow it became my most used tag?#mostly because I don't tag things I'm not posting myself lol

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husbandomail · 2 years

Note

Gurll don't feel bad about feeling bad!! I personally don't usually interact with posts because too shy but GURL your normal posts are just as important as your writing!

Speak your mind all you want and don't feel guilty

GURL

srry gotta gurl it out lmao

Also do share your ocs plz

FGHJHGFD LITERALLY NEVER FEEL BAD ABOUT INTERACTING WITH MY POSTS

it'd actually make me feel a lil better bc I'm sitting here with an alright follower count and then my posts get like. two notes. and I admit it's kinda disheartening fghjhgfd. I really don't wanna bother y'all by just Talking so much fghjhgfd

but okay alright digimon ocs!! I dug through my oc tag here and I don't think I've shared them yet so lmao. and yet again I have picrews bc I'm not an artist fghgfd lmao. I don't have one for my self-insert atm so these are the other main characters!

first we have Satoji!

he's pretty shy and doesn't have much ambition; even after digimon begin appearing and he ends up with a partner, all he wants is a quiet, simple life. he's got no idea why he gets dragged into things when so many other people are stronger than he is, but when he realizes he'll have to fight to have a quiet future with his new friends, he's willing to do it. I'm thinking his main partner is a Kapurimon that eventually becomes a Gokuwmon, but I'm also taking the same angle as the video games and letting these characters have more than one digimon lmao.

and then we have Capucine!

she's an up-and-coming musician with a growing following through the internet; because she's had to fight so hard to really start her beloved career, she's a no-nonsense type, very serious, puts her work above all else. she's actually kinda frustrated by the appearance of digimon in the real world, because it's throwing a wrench into her career,,,, but her partner ends up being a SkullMeramon who can rock the guitar, so maybe she doesn't mind too much.

and then finally we've got Rom, My Beloved

he seems to be suspiciously familiar with digimon, knowing far too much about them while they're still new to the rest of humanity. he runs a quiet little blog about them, and it's that blog that ends up bringing all the main characters together. he's very much the type to avoid answering questions, and he's incredibly tough to read, so it takes a long time for everyone to warm up to him; secretly, he's a digital entity himself, one sent by. whoever I decide the villain is lmao. but he ends up getting attached to the heroes and, after admitting he was supposed to cause the end of the world, he decides to vanish instead.

so there's the characters I have so far!! I'm still in the process of piecing the overall story together ofc, especially given that this is an original fanfic instead of finding a spot in canon, so fghjgfd lmao

sorry for rambling lmaooo

#asks #not an imagine #anon #oc hours

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ohvu · 2 years

Text

chapter one — I'm under your bed

wc: 304 ,, warnings pledis slander ig, curses, lowercase intended (written) ,, notes. set pre girls planet era . not proof read

standing in front of the director’s office, you took deep breaths contemplating whether to do it or not. “fuck this, I’m already here anyways”

knocking on the door, you waited for him to reply. finally hearing the ‘come in’ you took a deep breath before entering.

‘ah yn, what brings you here’ the ceo ushered you to sit down after greeting him.

‘well, I heard mnet is hosting another survival show. I was hoping if you would allow me, I’d like to participate and audition’

‘hm, may I ask why?’

hearing this, you also wondered why. you’re one of the trainees that exceeded the trainers’ expectations whenever they held trainee evaluations. you were sure that you would be a member if they're preparing a debut team, what urged you to take a risk?

‘I actually don’t know myself. I know I’ve been training for quite a while now but recently, I started thinking if being an idol is really the correct path for me? especially now that I’m reaching my twenties.’

‘I wanted to audition, to maybe find a reason why I should continue this path that I’ve been taking for so long. I wanted to find that passion that I lacked recently.’

‘i see’ he held his hands together looking down, thinking. ‘are you sure about this?’ he questioned.

‘positive’ you nodded, sighing after.

‘well then, you have my support. you have my permission, I hope you find what you’re looking for through the show.’ he nodded, offering his hands to shake it with yours.

‘thank you sir’ you shook his hands and bowed.

‘you may leave now, training hours are starting soon.’ he sat back down, motioning the door.

‘ah yes, I’ll get going. thank you again’ you bowed one last time, watching him dial someone before leaving the room.

error. erase the first 'to' on the second pic + intensions* on the last pic

mstrlst | prev – next

SYNOPSIS. debuting was a dream of yours, the problem was pledis doesn't have any plans on debuting a girl group soon. joining a survival show was your last chance, thus, you took it in hopes of debuting. now that you’ve achieved it, you promised yourself to not let anything hinder you while promoting. fate, however, had other plans. bumping into your senior slash label mates was a normal occurrence, but being them interested in a junior slash label mate wasn't. oh, how fate wanted to spice up things.

a/n. surprise surprise fdjhdf (early) first chapter 😵😵😵. lmao I was scared posting this but oh well . I'll only update once a week until schools over, I hope your okay w that 😓😓 this chapter gives off a bit of yn personality I think??? bffs can some of yall lend ur users ? ill tag you when I do use it 😧😧

taglist. @ikasaeki @wony6ung @pitchblacksmile @yenart @lunaflvms @1-800-lixie @enloveclub @strawbrinkofdeath @rich-man-v @moon-lys @prettywon @luvarots @mitsukifilms @soobcheek @keewho @jjhmk @strwbrymlkes @bigtoewinwin @nshrkilvbt @arizejkt19 (send an ask to be added + lmk if the tags doesn't work)

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wincestisasincest · 2 years

Text

Waves on the Shore - Chapter 6: The Leftover Kids

Viktor x Fem!Reader slow burn enemies to lovers

x posted on ao3 // WOTS masterlist

Summary: Jayce and Viktor questioning you about your weapon (made with farm-fresh Hextech) is the only thing keeping you from going to jail for science crimes. You and Viktor are literally at each others throats lmao. Also you’re from Bilgewater because pirates are fucking rad

Notes: Not gonna lie babes I actually really struggled writing this one, especially the second to last scene it went through sooooooo many drafts and for what? Originally it was a lot tamer but let's be real it was coming so... anyway sorry if it's kind of bad I did my best. Also! I am literally so overjoyed with how much you all liked the last chapter like ejtlehtehatelthe this week was very busy for me but seeing everyone enjoy it made me grin like an idiot every time. Next week is break so I'll have more time to write and interact with y'all and stuff. Anyway, enjoy this episode of "the only way that these two know how to tell each other to do better is by being really mean about it."

BIG TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter deals with themes of sexual assault. Nothing happens, but characters do talk about it occasionally and there are some implications. It's not near as bad as it was in Chapter 2, but just a heads up because people on Iron Leg's ship are not good people and we have to talk about it! Now!

Word Count: 7.7k

Tags: @edenstarkk, @modernamilf, @dedicated2viktor, @doctorho, @yeehawbvby (hi sorry i could not answer your comment directly because this is a sideblog but akejrhkejhte i'm so glad you like it and welcome to the taglist!)

Mentions of: Alcohol, explosions, guns, sexual assault

Triggers: Blood, death, prison, sexual harassment, poison, hospitals, babies (dunno if this counts but babies and birth kinda freak me out so), language

“Okay,” you exhaled, “the key here is to not clue him in on what you do and don’t already know. Once you actually get the interrogation rolling, it should be easy enough, but make sure that you start by telling him that you’re just confirming information. Make sure he believes it, too. That way, he won’t know what he can leverage against you. I don’t think he’ll even try lying, it’s never been his thing. He’ll probably just tell you to piss off if he doesn’t want to answer something. But, if you do think he’s lying, call him out on it.”

You paused, giving them time to process before you continued.

“Present the stuff early and keep it in sight – he’s a businessman. Make it feel like a transaction. If he tries to scare you, that means he’s getting desperate. He’s not bright but he’s not stupid either, so he knows that he can’t really do anything to you, and normally, he doesn’t threaten unless he means it, so if he tries to threaten you, that means he’s panicking. Don’t,” you directed a look at Jayce, “promise anything that you can’t do. If you want to question him later, you’ll need to keep his trust. Don’t,” you moved your judgement to Viktor, “insult him or his pride. He doesn’t respond well to that and will probably just shut down.”

Jayce bit his lip shamefully, but Viktor’s face didn’t move. He was as unyielding as he was attentive.

“Don’t hold what you’re offering him over his head. If he wants it, he’s not gonna want to admit it, so let him pretend. And don’t,” you emphasized your final point with your hands, “call him anything other than Iron Leg. It’s a sign of respect. If you pull up with that Mr. Byrne shit that the Enforcers use, I guarantee you’ll lose him instantly.”

You relaxed your shoulders, watching absolutely nothing happen behind their eyes.

“Okay?” you asked when they didn’t say anything.

“Okay,” Jayce swallowed.

“I didn’t make you nervous, did I?” you put your hands on your hips.

“Course not,” Jayce lied, “we dealt with you just fine.”

You groaned and tilted your head back, as if asking the ceiling to crush you right now.

“The point of all that,” you brought your head back down so you were facing them again, “was that he is not like me. That guy in there has got a hell of a lot of things he wants to protect; his ego, his reputation, his crew’s loyalty. He won’t offer you information, no matter how much it benefits him in the long run, if it means losing any of those. Just ask the people who tried to interrogate him before you. He won’t listen to logic. That’s why you have to speak his language.”

“Understood,” Viktor said before Jayce could ask another question. As much as it pained you to admit, you trusted Viktor with this operation more than his partner. Ever the idealist, Jayce had to appeal to people’s better nature even when it wasn’t there to begin with. Viktor, well, that was not a problem he had.

“Good,” you said, opening your palm to reveal the rusty wedding ring and the sketch that you had taken from the ship. They hadn’t left your pocket since before the cannon incident. Your pants felt weirdly light as you relinquished them.

Viktor grabbed the trinkets, performing the usual ritual of trying to minimize skin to skin contact. Jayce noticed his deftness.

“I don’t think you’re gonna break ‘em, Vik. That ring looks older than Heimerdinger,” he rolled his eyes.

Viktor just grunted and closed his hand, letting his arm fall to the side.

“Oh, and one more thing,” you said hastily as they turned to leave, “please don’t mention that I’m, like… helping with this. Please.”

“You got it,” Jayce gave you a thumbs up.

“Thank you.”

They were gone through the swinging doors and you were already suffocating in the sudden quiet they left in their wake.

Just visiting this concrete box was soul-crushing. You’d seen prisons before, but this was your first time being inside one, and you couldn’t fathom living here. If one could call it living. You supposed that you would have to, sooner or later.

Even the name was eerie. Stillwater. The very thing you hated about Piltover’s ocean.

You were protected when you were still with Jayce and Viktor – they were reminders that you belonged to the outside world. But now, all alone, everything was closing in. The buzz of the receptionist copying cell numbers into her documents, the metal chairs bolted to the ground in militaristic rows, the air that was too cold and made your hairs stand at alert.

You blinked in the sterile light.

“Is there a bathroom I could use?” you winced at the hoarseness in your voice as you addressed the receptionist.

“Down the hall to left,” she stopped writing for less than a second to point her pen, not checking to see if you got the message.

All you needed was a splash of water in your face and your shit would be back together, you told yourself as you approached the stretch of darkness. Noises pattered against the heavyset walls, but you tuned them out to focus on the door at the very end. Four inches thick with a cold handle.

You shoved your hands in your pockets and squeezed the fabric on the inside. The clamor from behind the walls was getting louder the farther you got from the lobby’s crushing fluorescence, trapping you between two sensory hells.

A door opened somewhere, wailing with age. The chatter from the inside of the room roared down the hallway before the bang of the door severed it off again. Meticulous steps in time with passive shuffling walked down towards you as two shadows unfolded.

You didn’t speed up. The guard wasn’t here for you. You were just going to the bathroom. No need to make a scene.

Your fingers numbed with strain as you gripped the fabric even tighter. Was your breathing too loud?

Finally, you passed each other in the middle of the hallway. The guard was wearing a blue uniform and escorting a burly person in a striped tank top. The prisoner had a sluggish river of blood coming from his nose. Your eyes instinctively flicked to the floor, where you noticed the his ankles. They were worn and skinny, and you had looked straight into their sharp bones not long ago.

You refused to cower, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. Stringent red veins coursed through them, unforgiving and violent. Your knew this man.

A phantom sensation of his grimy hand on your upper arm, sidling closer to your chest but never touching it, lest Iron Leg give him a painful reminder to not bother you while you were working. The way that those stupid fucking legs would kick you “on accident” and compel you to look up into his hungry expression, like he was appraising a hooker about to suck his dick.

He recognized you too. The edges of his mouth crinkled into a pleased grin, breaking apart the half-dried blood. He tossed a wink in your direction as he was dragged further down the hall.

You flipped him off without slowing down, ignoring how your heart leapt straight into your throat. He just chuckled, and the sound stayed with you long after you vacated each other’s line of sight.

You reached the end of the hall and stood dumbly, forgetting why you were here. You turned to your left – ah, yes. The bathroom. You rushed to lock yourself into the first stall you could find, falling to your knees in front of the toilet and grabbing its sides as you waited for vomit.

None came. You just saw your reflection in the tainted water, marred by a shit stain.

Gods, this place was going to kill you.

*****

The name was accurate, Viktor thought.

The design of Iron Leg’s iron leg was not economical, nor medically approved, but it was at least shaped like the appendage that it was meant to replace. In the prison-issued pants, it looked so similar to the unaffected leg that Viktor couldn’t tell where the prosthetic ended.

The metal gurgled in the shadows when the pirate lifted his head to spare Viktor a glance. He must’ve been unimpressed, as he went back to hunching over his journal immediately. He held his pencil at the very end, like an artist.

“Iron Leg?” Jayce asked, inviting some snide comment that anyone could see coming from a mile away.

“No, lad, I’m fuckin’ Flesh Leg.”

Though buried beneath a hardy sea-farer’s accent, his voice was clear and self-assured. One made to give orders and lacking the rawness of a boozehound.

“We have some things that we think you’d be interested in,” Viktor uncurled his hand and revealed the treasures in the dim light, “we would like to exchange them for information.”

Iron Leg shut the journal with one hand and set it on the floor. The cell was small and sparse, almost like his Captain’s Quarters after they were searched. And yet, even though this cell must’ve cycled through thousands of prisoners in its lifetime, it didn’t feel as lived in as the ship had. The walls were regularly refurbished to remove any cell graffiti, the bedsheets were made every morning as part of the prisoner’s routine, and decoration of any kind was not permitted, especially in the high security wing.

The pirate’s legs screeched as his stiff joints propelled him forward two languid steps.

His hair was brown and knotted. The locks were down to his armpits and highlighted the burnt, fizzled texture of his uneven beard. His tank top exposed damaged arms, with gangly muscles covered in scrapes and bruises – some fresh, some old, none on their way to a full recovery. Veins pulsed against his pale, corpse-like skin, though his cheeks were ruddy and his crow’s feet moved with the rest of his face. A circular black wound festered in the middle of his clavicle.

He struggled to the floor and stretched his leg out, exposing the janky bolts that were supposed to be an ankle. Viktor figured that he should sit down as well, to not seem intimidating, and pulled a distracted Jayce to the floor with him when he didn’t follow. He set the ring and the sketch just out of Iron Leg’s reach at the edge of the cell bars.

“Went lookin’ in my safe, did ye?”

His eyes were open and wily, burning like dynamite about to explode. He was not the classic picture of intimidating, but that only made him worse in Viktor’s mind. This man was a complete wild card.

“The ship was searched,” Viktor said.

“Aye, it was, but they would not have found this safe unless they knew that one was there. So, tell me – which one of my crew squealed?”

“None of them,” Viktor employed his poker face with more struggle than he was used to, “the search procedure was actually quite, eh, destructive, given how closed off your crew was. But that is not important. We have questions for you.”

“And in return,” Jayce gestured to the ring and the sketch, as though Iron Leg was not already staring straight at them, “these’ll be yours. Most of your other stuff was confiscated, but we talked the Enforcers out of ‘em. We just need you to confirm some information for us.”

Yes, Jayce was the better liar of the two. A consequence of that damn earnest face of his.

“Then you best start talking.”

Iron Leg was cooperative, almost genial, and Viktor felt uneasy.

On the boat ride to Stillwater you had regaled them with stories of his brutality, from both drunk and legitimate sources. Perhaps not your most tactful move before an interrogation, but you were fond of lying, Viktor had noticed. Omitting information you were more than happy to do, but if someone asked you a question, you gave them nothing but blunt candor.

It was refreshing compared to the snake-like insinuation of Piltover’s social scene. However, it meant that when Jayce challenged you with a “how bad can he be?” you gave him a thoroughly terrifying answer.

Viktor had known about his atrocities for no more than the past hour, and he was already more haunted by them than Iron Leg ever was. The pirate spoke with a conscience as clear as a sunny day.

“Right. Describe the process of building the cannon.”

The first half of the questions that they planned were tests to see how cooperative he would be, per your recommendation. Though he tended to draw out his answers, he was truthful and stayed in line with your characterization. When he hesitated between sentences, tossing around his options in his head, he would look back at the ring and the sketch on the floor.

He betrayed no other signs of inner turmoil, but Viktor suspected that they had him right where they wanted him.

“…and that was when the crew decided that it was time to raise the white flag. Damn mutiny if you ask me,” he grumbled.

“You would’ve kept attacking?” Jayce raised an eyebrow.

“Aye, lad.”

“What compelled you to attack?”

“I wanted to see Piltover burn,” he said grimly. Viktor did not place him as the mastermind behind the conspiracy, but he was no puppet on strings either. He had an axe to grind, and he was ready to die for it.

“Why?” Viktor asked before he could stop himself.

“You think that the whole world was made for Piltover, don’t you? That just because you have money and progress, that means that everything is yours for the taking? I’m just the first of many people who are trying to take it back,” he was teetering on the edge of a full outburst.

He sounded a bit like you when you first spoke to the Council, scolding them for their complicit acceptance of trafficked humans from Bilgewater.

“You resorted to engineering to attack Piltover,” Viktor backed away from that line of questioning as to not anger the pirate.

“It wasn’t engineering until we got the wench on board,” he said, making Jayce grimace, “I just knew that the crystals had the firepower I needed. Only after I got ‘em did I think to get someone with half a brain on board to make ‘em usable.”

“And the… wench,” Viktor forbade himself from using your name, lest he hint of your involvement, “why did you select her?”

“Because she was there for the taking, lad. Mighty good with tools according to the locals, and no gang to get mad if we plucked her off the island and never brought her back.”

“Were you going to bring her back?”

“I was. After the boys had their fun of course,” he chuckled, noticing Jayce’s blanched face.

“Why not just kill her at that point?” Viktor asked, smoothly keeping his own disgust in check.

“It’s not how we do it out there. It’s a respect thing for other pirates, see; can’t go around killing public property, right lad?” he wheezed with laughter and slapped his knee, directing the question at Jayce so he could relish in his discomfort.

Viktor recalled that time that you had compared him to pirates for describing your “utility.” It was almost impressive, how you both managed to uncover the exact parts of each other’s memories that would sting the most without even knowing. Viktor felt a little sick – was this even long enough ago to be a memory for you?

Iron Leg was still laughing, and Viktor rattled the bars with his cane.

“Stay focused,” he said.

The pirate heaved, planting both of his hands on the floor. He had stopped looking at them, allowing Jayce to overcome his repulsion and help with getting the conversation back on track.

“Hey, stay-“

Jayce was cut off by a ghastly cough and a splatter. A dark, oxidized swirl marked the floor. Blood.

“Shit. I’ll get a doctor,” Jayce stumbled up and sprinted out of the room, shouting that someone needed medical attention.

Iron Leg collapsed to the floor, writhing against his lungs. His hands were covered in bloody viscera as he clawed at the bars and his face was completely white. The tip of his finger was reaching for the sketch. Viktor pushed it closer, watching him curiously.

“She…” he panted, tracing red over the portrait of the girl, “she…”

“Yes?” Viktor pressed, gentle but urgent.

“My daughter,” he wheezed again, “Myrna.”

His hand went limp and blocked out the drawing’s eyes. Viktor hastily clutched his wrist and dug into its side with his fingers, holding his breath and waiting for a pulse.

None came.

*****

Someone called to you from below deck. Not for Penny, but you. The depths were bellowing your real name, vibrating the rotten wood beneath your feet.

You couldn’t feel the wind, but somehow it filled the sails and kept the ship functional, cutting forward through the vast blue mirror. It lurched when it was steered, but the deck was entirely empty, and there was no land in sight. It was calm.

You went down the stairs, following the syllables that should’ve only been familiar to you flitting through the congested air. It didn’t sound like they were trying to summon you, just testing your name out, like a child that had learned a new word.

You brushed past the neatly hung hammocks with no one in them. Your name had a slight bastardization from how it was normally pronounced. This person wasn’t from Bilgewater.

And there he was, in the center of the room, lit up by choppy rays of sunlight from the rafters and pacing around, the part of you that he had no right to know spilling from his lips. His cane wasn’t making any noise, so your loud, clunky steps were even more disturbing.

He saw you and cocked his head to the side with surprise, stopping his rambling, like you had intruded on something.

“Penny?” Viktor asked.

You startled, opening your eyes and accidentally biting your tongue. You straightened your neck and swallowed the taste of copper as all the joints that you’d buried into the chair eased into waking discomfort.

It was white. You were at the hospital. You must’ve dozed off after they drew blood. You unfolded your hands from your lap and yawned, cracking your back. Viktor and Jayce were gone.

Iron Leg had died from slow acting poison while the boys were interrogating him. You three were immediately transported to the nearest medical center to check for any toxins in your bloodstream. You had yet to learn if Iron Leg had yielded any good information.

They were a tad strange on the boat ride back, refusing to look you in the eye or give your questions any real answers. Jayce, you could maybe understand, as this might have been his first corpse. Viktor, however, had definitely seen death – not that that made processing it any easier, but you expected him to take it differently from Jayce. Yet they were both entrenched in denial, as though you were the one that had died and not Iron Leg.

You stood up and touched your toes. Perhaps some movement would keep you from falling asleep again, you thought as your interest was captured by the vibrant swaths of fabric on the large window of the hallway.

Getting closer, you recognized the squirming and crying coming from the colors. Those were babies. You had stumbled into the maternity ward.

Leaning your head against the glass, you observed them like wild animals.

“Uh… what are you doing?” Jayce asked, appearing out of nowhere. You didn’t turn around.

“There are so… few of them,” you said, “this is the only hospital in Piltover?”

There were exactly 15 babies there, all healthy, with their scrunched together, barely awake faces. They reminded you of drunk adults.

“What do you mean?” Jayce was at your side, watching them with less interest.

“What I said. There are not a lot of babies.”

“Oh? Well, I know that Piltover does a pretty good job with controlled pregnancy. They want all of these kids to go to good homes.”

“What happens if a birth is unplanned?”

“Then the parents either get help from the state or the kid gets adopted.”

“There’s always someone looking to adopt?”

“Or foster. But yeah.”

“What about the leftover kids?”

“There aren’t any leftover kids.”

“So every kid has somewhere to live? No orphanages, no factories, no nothing?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. That doesn’t happen in Bilgewater,” you dropped your hands to your side, “unwanted pregnancy is a whole industry there.”

Jayce went quiet, and you stopped caring about the babies.

“Did I say something?” you turned to the side, spotting the distant bearing in his expression.

“No,” he shook his head suddenly, “I was just thinking. By the way, we’re all poison free.”

“Oh. That’s good, I guess,” you rested your shoulder against the window, “so, did you get anything before the ol’ dog kicked the bucket?”

“Viktor said something happened after I left. I’ll have to ask him about it. But other than that, no.”

“Damn,” you sighed.

Everywhere you turned you just got more evidence that there was some greater conspiracy going on, but the specifics were swiped away from you before you could look any closer. You were grasping at straws, confused, with no sign of an end in sight, and having to drag every breakthrough kicking and screaming into the open.

“But hey, we’ll keep trying,” Jayce smiled softly.

“Do you think it’s worth it? To keep trying?” you said, playing with your fingers, “I mean, whoever is doing this, they don’t wanna be found. And they’ll kill people for it. Maybe… maybe we should stop before more people get hurt.”

“I thought you wanted to solve this?” Jayce asked doubtfully.

“I did, but I’m kinda over it. Fuck my closer, Iron Leg might not be the only one dead if we don’t let up,” you let yourself sound a little harsher to mask any vulnerability.

“This is why we must look into it, yes?” Viktor said from behind you, the clack of his cane not even registering since you had gotten so used to it, “this person is dangerous.”

“But they don’t have to be if we just stop looking.”

“That is what they want us to do.”

“Okay? That’s better than them wanting us dead, isn’t it?”

“I believe that this is worth the risk,” Viktor stood beside Jayce, who was nodding along enthusiastically.

“Alright, well,” you conceded, raising your hands, “if you wanna keep digging, I can’t stop you, but it seems unnecessary to me.”

You refused to acknowledge the awkward silence and turned back to the babies.

No kid goes unwanted in Piltover. Maybe it was because this city needed a consistent supply of people willing to risk themselves for some greater good. Viktor, though, he wasn’t from Piltover. He should know that when you had no state or family to look out for you, you were the only thing keeping yourself from an early grave.

*****

“Do you… think we should say something?”

“What is there to say? We already knew that she was not voluntarily on the ship. It is unfortunate, but…” Viktor trailed off, not wanting to sound like a broken record, “we are not going to take away her agency. It is infantilizing. She will tell us if she wishes too.”

“You know that’s not gonna happen,” Jayce put his head in his hands, sighing, “I feel dirty, Vik. I mean, come on, ‘public property?’ That’s… we can’t just leave it at that.”

“Things like this happen in Bilgewater all the time. It just feels worse now because we know her.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“I’m aware,” Viktor said, tapping his fingers on his desk.

Jayce had been thinking about it since they left Stillwater. Viktor couldn’t blame him, as he was similarly frustrated with the lack of insight that the two had on you. All of this time, and they had never considered what circumstances brought you to being on a ship full of lecherous pirates doing war crimes. You clearly weren’t as blood thirsty as they were, so what kind of life had you lead where you were the go-to resource for gangs who needed engineering and didn’t like consequences? You certainly weren’t in any rush to explain it either, even though it might’ve been helpful in your appeal to the Council, which was only more suspicious

Viktor refused to coddle you, and he knew that Jayce would to, even if his partner was a bit nicer about it. Everyone has problems, and at the end of the day, you were still an adult who made her own choices and had to take responsibility for her actions. He believed that you would like this interpretation as well.

Yet, the more he learned about you, the harder it was to fight the rogue, almost scientific, impulse to understand what made you tick.

“Not interrupting anything, am I?” you said from the doorway in the office, your most recent invention glowing in your hands.

“No, no, not at all,” Jayce answered too quickly, “what’s up?”

Your eyes darted back and forth between them, unconvinced, but knowing that it wasn’t worth your time.

“That professor in charge of the Council is here for you. Both of you,” you nodded towards the room with your head, “surprised you didn’t hear him come in.”

Sure enough, Heimerdinger was here unannounced, looking abnormally stressed. The roll of paper tucked under his arm jittered as he tapped his feet impatiently. He bristled when you walked past him towards the other room.

“Ah, if you could stay here, Miss Penny. I’d like your input.”

You paused, turning around and squinting at him, though you quickly relented and joined Viktor and Jayce in the center of the lab.

The Professor scurried onto one of the chairs and stood up, spreading the scroll onto the table. Viktor stood over his shoulder, recognizing a nautical map of the routes between Bilgewater and the Piltover bridge.

“We have received word that there is a fleet en route to Piltover with artillery similar in design to yours, Miss Penny. One can only guess how it spread so quickly, but regardless, our estimate gives us two days until they arrive.”

“Where are they now?” you asked, studying the map beside Viktor.

“We’re not sure, but we know that they left 18 days ago, and the standard route for vessels this size indicates a travel time of 20 days.”

“For trading ships maybe, but any pirate fleet wouldn’t risk being that close to Noxus outposts,” you ran your finger along the stretch of desert continent at the top of the map, “they would take the South passage instead. So, you’ve probably got four days.”

Viktor was amazed at how you could say something genuinely reassuring but still make it sound like a warning.

“Well, either way, I’ve come to discuss the, uh… what did you call it, Jayce?”

“She’s calling it the wave inverter,” Jayce said, pointing to you from across the table, “you’re gonna have to ask her.”

Heimerdinger turned to you expectantly.

“Oh, um, sure. What did you want to know?”

“I’d like you to show me how it works,” Heimerdinger said, his characteristic sincerity shining through his reluctance to talk to you, “it is defensive, is it not?”

“Yeah,” you said, “hold on.”

You set your prototype down on the table and rifled through the desks behind you. Heimerdinger eyed it cautiously. No bigger than your hand, it was haphazardly assembled out of wires, scrap metal, bolts, and some precarious but sturdy clear casing with a foreboding crystal in the center.

“Why is it red?” he asked, the prototype flickering in his blue eyes like an alarm.

“I like red,” you said, back still facing him, “just used a rune. But I wanted to have it be a different color so that, even if the magic waves canceled out, the light wouldn’t. So, y’know, you could still see what was going on.”

Heimerdinger looked at Viktor, who could only shrug.

“Okay,” you turned around and set two empty drinking glasses on the table, along with a standard, blue, Hextech crystal, “so, the wave inverter is a constant stream of magical energy coming from one crystal. Because of the way that the energy is transferred into the system that you want to protect,” you continued as you began to wire your prototype into one of the glasses, “the magic can only use objects with really close molecules as conduits, meaning that the waves are seismic, so it won’t mess with air and water and stuff, but will reach every surface. Uh-“ you pursed your lips, “how technical do you want me to be?”

“Do keep it brief. I trust Viktor and Jayce will take care of any technicalities.”

“Okay. Well, basically, the waves are weak to begin with – you can’t even feel them – and they travel through solid objects, which makes them weaker. Because of this, they only react to magic stimuli. So, when another wave of magic interacts with an object hooked up to the wave inverter, say, a blue wave,” you grunted as you attached a soldered receptacle to the glass and threaded some conductive copper through it, “it creates a vacuum that the wave already going through the object, the red wave, will instantly react with. The necessary magic is harnessed from the crystal to produce a red wave to occupy the vacuum, which makes it perfectly inverted to the blue wave and cancels out any effect it would have on the object.”

You clicked your tongue and checked over your work – at least, that’s what Viktor hoped you were doing.

“Like so,” you said, tapping the blue crystal without any warning. A small wave of magic shuddered through the table. Jayce and Heimerdinger shielded their eyes out of habit, but Viktor kept still. This was his first time seeing it in action, and he would not spare any attention to detail.

A crack ruptured the empty glass, rendering the side facing the crystal a glossy spiderweb of broken pieces loosely held together by the still-intact base. However, the glass with your prototype meticulously wired inside of it, blinking like a beady red eye, was perfectly unharmed as a brief blue and red flash glinted across it.

“My word,” Heimerdinger said, slowly lowering his hand. The Professor was not easily impressed, and though Viktor had the privilege of seeing it a few times, it was becoming an even rarer occurrence as the years went on.

“So, yeah, it’s just a prototype, but that’s the idea,” you finished, starting to clear the table as if you had just explained how to make a friendship bracelet.

“I- well, this could certainly be the solution that we need to deal with this fleet,” Heimerdinger stammered, trying to process both what just happened and your unphased reaction to it.

“Um… I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’ve only gotten it to work on small things.”

“I see,” Heimerdinger paused, “well, I’m normally not one to encourage hasty progress, but I must say that we are in dire need of some defensive measures here. You have proof of concept, Miss Penny. If you could configure it to a larger structure, say, a Piltover ship, safely,” he paused for emphasis, “we would be indebted to you, willing to grant a request of your choosing.”

“Extradition,” you said immediately, spinning back around with intent.

“I- well perhaps something a little more reasonable-“

“You said I get to choose and I choose extradition,” you wiped your hands on your pants, “what, am I gonna make more magic weapons now that I’ve literally just told you how to stop them?”

“Wait, you can’t just-“ Jayce started.

“Very well,” Heimerdinger said curtly, rising to his feet, “the Council will consider extradition if you can pull this off. Safely. We do not need another cannon incident.”

“Wait, Professor, she can’t just leave,” Jayce was following him to the door.

“Ouch,” you said dryly.

“If you have a moral objection, Mr. Talis, then you’d better go ahead and say it. But, if what you’ve told me is true, then the work is entirely her own, so the choice lies with her,” Heimerdinger explained it kindly to Jayce, though his sternness was being tempted.

“Right. Of course,” Jayce quickly recovered and straightened himself, “always enjoy your visits, Professor.”

“Likewise, my boys,” Heimerdinger said, nodding a silent goodbye at Jayce and Viktor before leaving without another word.

The minute that the Professor’s light steps disappeared down the hallway, Jayce shifted to you.

“Extradition?” he crossed his arms, trying to keep his voice down.

“I don’t see the problem,” you said, “I wasn’t going to be here for long anyway. Now, I just get to not go to prison.”

“I thought you were going to stay for longer.”

“And do what? Keep turning out new crap forever? I mean, yeah, when the alternative was dying in a prison fight that was nice, but now…” you stopped, looking at your feet, and your face softened, “I want to go home.”

It was the meekest Viktor had ever seen you, which was ironic, since your brows were furrowed insistently and your chest was puffed out. No, it was the words, Viktor thought – personal words like “want” and “home.” You used them rarely, and now, your voice weakened at their very mention.

“But we’ve done some really great stuff here! How could you want to go back to, well, whatever you were doing in Bilgewater,” he fumbled over his words, “with all of this?!

“I wasn’t doing whatever,” you said bitterly, “I’ve lived there my whole life.”

“Okay, let’s uh, let’s start this over,” Jayce scratched the back of his neck, “we’ve talked to some people about what you used to do there, and-“

“One of them didn’t happen to be a dead pirate, did they?” you raised an eyebrow, backing away from him slightly.

“I know what you’re thinking, but it came up naturally, we-“

“Iron Leg said that his crew members would sexually assault you and referred to you as public property. The implication was that this was a common occurrence,” Viktor cut in for Jayce, knowing that politeness would simply not reach you.

You regarded Viktor, then Jayce, then Viktor again, not with surprise, but distaste. Something was stirring in your chest, but Viktor couldn’t place it.

“I’m no one’s whore,” you said darkly, “Iron Leg knew who I was because I would fix shit for other gangs when I needed cash, not because I was some helpless fucktoy.”

“We didn’t say that you were,” Jayce tried to explain, “but… fixing shit for gangs doesn’t sound much better?”

“I’m here because I don’t- can’t go to jail. You’re just a richer gang with nicer clothes,” you swallowed like your saliva was broken glass, “It doesn’t matter where I am. People like me have always got to be working for someone bigger than us to stay alive. Why would I do it here instead of the place I grew up?”

That was where you fucked up and Viktor caught on. You were lashing out in panic, like Jayce had observed when you first jumped off the building. You were trying to offend them, a little too obviously, to get them off your back. But why?

“No, I don’t think so,” Viktor said, looking down at you, “unless you’re trying to say that you would’ve just as easily sacrificed yourself for that former captain of yours?”

“That was a debt to repay and nothing else. If I owed Iron Leg shit, then I would’ve.”

“I don’t believe you,” he narrowed his eyes, “What is it that you’re protecting right now?”

“Myself, motherfucker!”

The whirring gears in Viktor’s head stopped as he developed a new hypothesis.

“All the people who took chances on you, all the things that you know you can do, all the things that you might want to do, this new person that you could become compared to the public menace that you are now – you would leave all of that behind to return to Bilgewater’s, eh, not safety, but… predictability?” he put both of his hands on his cane, watching you perceptively, satisfied as he began to stitch the pieces together, “I didn’t take you for a coward.”

“Excuse you, I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“You didn’t? What were you asking for, then, when you said that would lengthen your sentence for our sakes? Or when you inquired about the Undercity development projects? You know, most people would consider that noble.”

“I’m not most people.”

“No, you’re not. Most people would also seize the chance to be something greater the minute it was offered but you… you tasted what it was like to be a better person and it terrified you, didn’t it?” he found more courage and ignored Jayce’s apprehension.

“What the hell are you playing at?” you growled.

“This is the same reason you were afraid to investigate further, too,” he was looking at you, but this mind was somewhere else entirely, “because you know that you’re going to keep finding yourself in situations where you can choose to do the right thing. It’s safety, but there’s something else.”

“Vik, maybe you should-“

“You’re not stupid, you know that you could do something here. You know that even people who aren’t from Piltover, people like me, can do something here if they so wish. And you know it won’t be easy, but you’re used to that.”

“Okay, I get it, you can stop with the fuckin’ lecture now.”

“And yet, the minute that the chance to return to the status quo was dangled in front of you, you went for it. You would return to your life of desperation just to avoid being here any longer, but that makes no sense. The risk-reward of it is in you favor, but you refuse to take any risk.”

“Alright, let’s-“

“Does this place threaten you, I wonder? Does it hurt to be surrounded by people who are doing what you can’t, not because they are more intelligent than you, but purely due to the content of their-“

“SHUT UP!”

You were shaking with rage. Viktor thought you were going to spit on him again as you glared, eyes pointed like the barrel of a gun. Some would’ve considered it cruel, taking advantage of the very small cracks in your shell that you didn’t even give him permission to look through, but a part of him hoped that it would be the slap in the face you needed to finally do something productive with yourself. And he kept that hope until he saw the corners of your eyes brimming with wetness.

“Gods, what the FUCK is your problem?! Do you get your FUCKING ROCKS OFF by sitting around all day knowing that you’ve given so much of yourself for a city that DOES NOT GIVE A SHIT about it? You have NO idea how lucky you are to have every shitty little gamble you make pay off, do you? You know it’s not all you, right? You know that there are people who are just like you and never get to do ANYTHING no matter how hard they try? You know that it’s not ALL because you’re just that FUCKING great of a person? Because let me tell you, I’ve known your less than a month, and I’d prefer talking to IRON LEG’S FUCKING CORPSE, because at least HE won’t psychoanalyze me into next fucking Thursday to prove to HIMSELF that he’s a doing a good job” you took a heavy breath, “I hope that the next sacrifice you make fucking kills you.”

You returned to the workshop, roughly wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

The confidence had long since left Viktor’s face as the cold reality of what he had done settled in. Your wish had come true, he supposed – he thought it would be a worthwhile, for himself more than you, to push you past your breaking point and strike your soft center, but it hurt a little too much, and you had retaliated by ripping out his gut like a vulture. He wanted to hate you, and in a lot of ways he still did, but he knew that for this, he only had himself to blame.

“Vik, it’s not-“ Jayce tried to put a hand on his shoulder.

“There. We have said something,” Viktor said ruefully as he swatted the hand away.

*****

Damn it all, it was going great until you got teary-eyed.

Was he even trying to upset you? He obviously wasn’t trying to make you happy, but it lacked the malice that you thought was disappearing over the last few days. Youthought that you had finally learned to coexist without ripping each other’s heads off, and now, the minute that you could finally do something for yourself, he had backtracked in a heartbeat.

At least now you knew that it wasn’t because he didn’t understand. No, that had been wrong for a while. He understood you perfectly, and he was collecting more data on you like a lion stalking its prey. But apparently understanding didn’t change anything for him. Two could play at that game.

Soon, it wouldn’t be your problem. Soon, you would be on the docks of Bilgewater. Soon, you could settle into a deep depression as you contemplated just how right he was, and how knowing all of that couldn’t change anything.

You adjusted your blueprints with angry pencil lines, wondering how the hell you were going to fit this to a whole ship in four days. You worked well under pressure – if there wasn’t pressure, then you didn’t work – but now you were fueled by sheer need to prove your point and get out of this place.

Amidst your stewing, a piece of paper shivered at the edge of your vision.

Another blueprint was on the far edge of the already huge table that you were working on, splaying over the other side. You hadn’t left it there.

Your chest tingled. Something was wrong here.

Slowly, ready to bolt or attack, you steadied yourself on the table and bent down to check underneath.

A pair of racing legs into the main area of the lab was all that you got to see. You popped back up to the surface. The blueprint was gone. Their footsteps pounded out the door.

“Penny?” Jayce called, thinking that you had left. You launched from your seat like a firecracker and sped towards the door.

“Someonestolesomething!” you shouted as you passed the bewildered blur, skidding in your turn and dashing down the cool hallway.

They had just rounded the corner. The tip of their shoe poked out from behind the wall.

Adrenaline pumped through your legs and you ran like there was fire at your heels. Normally, you were running from something, so this was a welcome, ahem, change of pace.

Into the stairwell. The rushed silence followed by metallic rustling told you that they jumped over the railing. Great, so you could you. You strongarmed yourself over the side and rolled into the fall just like you remembered, spreading the impact of the pain across your shoulder and through your back.

You were a bit rusty, but it seemed your prey was as well. You were close enough to see the finer details of the black coat clinging to them.

Through the glass doors. They left them slightly shattered at the edge. So did you when you pressed through them with your side, but you could blame it all on them.

The rush of chilly air and the dew nipping at your ankles as you chased them through the grass on the quad was exhilarating. You pushed yourself even harder now that you were uninhibited by the Academy’s stuffy, obstacle-ridden interior. Gods, you had missed just running around like a maniac.

They were trying to disappear into the streets. Good luck, you thought, knowing that you were gaining on them. You saw the upper half of their coat twist before they ran even faster. They knew it too.

You darted through the streets, able to pin down their form. They were smallish, someone that you could easily subdue if you tackled them with enough inertia. Given that you weren’t even sure if you could slow down without hurting yourself now, you could definitely manage it.

How long had they been hiding there? Surely before Heimerdinger came in. And why couldn’t they just ask you for the blueprint? Anyone who knew about it in the first place already had enough power to just ask for it.

Through the alleyway, dark like a tunnel. You were so close, almost touching, and you realized that they were shorter than you as well. By a lot.

You rammed your weight into them, sending you both tumbling into the steadfast pavement as you struggled to come out on top.

Finally, slamming both of your arms on the ground by either side of their head, you saw the scrap of blue paper clutched by small, shaking fingers. You looked into the eyes of the enemy: a 10 year old sniffling like he was about to cry.

You caught your breath, and the sharp twinge of brine wafting up from the fabric of his coat burned through your memories like a heatwave. And for a moment, you were just two lost kids from Bilgewater against the world.

~ End Notes ~

End credits song: "Hey Bulldog" by the Beatles

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