#-progress and acceptance into his academy

[neon-sunsets]

it’s actually insane to me in retrospect that viktor got the arc he did. I need to go back and count his screen time minutes, but it’s clear that he’s up there numerically, and his story has so much weight within the narrative outside of just numbers as well.

beyond that, though, is the fact that viktor's narrative is fundamentally one about internalized ableism and the systemic structures that encourage it.

(obligatory disclaimer #1 that I have a significant mobility disability and a progressive chronic illness, but I am only one disabled person.)

imagine this: you are a child. you are disabled. the world you live in is one where you cannot afford healthcare; no one is there to teach you how to even use your cane correctly. your world is inaccessible and, worse, even the people who would normally show class solidarity with you don't, because you are not even able to do what they expect from you. characters like vi, powder, claggor, ekko, and mylo are all shown care and solidarity that viktor isn't — because they are able-bodied and therefore able to "pull their own weight."

this, at least, is an environment that can probably be overcome or mitigated by age and meeting people in your community who do care about you. this is an environment comparable to that of many, many, many disabled people who manage to thrive in a deeply unfair and ableist world.

but then you encounter a man who sees that you have talent and tells you as much. he does not ask much of you and he does not care that you are disabled. all he asks is for some help, which you give, and in return he teaches you the things he knows. what comes of this, after all is said and done and your understanding of the world has been fundamentally changed, is that you do have something you can give to your community, to the world. you have a talent which you can use to make yourself useful. you're not strong or sturdy but you can make machines, and that is always in need.

but you can't skate by on being useful like a normal child. the onus is always on you to prove that you're worth the air you breathe and the space you take up, that it's worthwhile to keep you alive. and the place to go to make yourself the most useful, where the most change can be made, is not a place you have any traditional way of accessing. you, through tenacity and grit, manage to get there anyways. (the show doesn't depict this, but any way viktor would have managed to get to the academy would have involved significant difficulty and possibly deception).

and when you get there, to that towering city of bronze, you find that nothing you do actually matters all that much.

everyone looks at you and sees your disability. everyone looks at you and sees where you're from. no matter how smart or accomplished or helpful you are, your behavior will always be, in their eyes, representative of your people. you could handle the stares, the rejection. but their judgement is dangerous to you and your people.

so, in order to survive, you must be perfect. you must project confidence or at least indifference to their cruelty. you must do as you're told and accept meager promotions and toil away as an assistant. you might be the only disabled zaunite they'll ever meet, so you have to make it count. if you fail, if they decide everyone from the undercity is lazy and useless, it's your fault.

you tell yourself you won't let them get to you. you tell yourself that you believe in your abilities.

it's a convenient narrative, and it's wholly untrue.

you, after all, are only a human being. a lifetime of the chips stacked against you is nearly impossible to overcome.

and so the image you build of yourself is that of a man far more self-confident than you, one who is quiet and reserved but proud of his accomplishments. the man you actually are, though, is one desperate for acceptance. desperate to assimilate. you chase your dreams, yes, but you can't bear to take credit, can't bear to be the face of them. you don't let yourself get close to anyone except the man you've built all of this with, who you love more than anyone else. you don't let anyone touch you (except him) and you don't touch anyone. you convince yourself you don't deserve his love or anyone's, that you're not whole enough for that.

you take it so far that, when you finally have the technology you think can cure your terminal illness, the first thing you try to fix is your leg. not the thing eating at your lungs and cutting short the time you thought you had, but the leg which has marked you as Other your entire life. and even though it doesn't quite work, even though it still causes you pain with every step, you force yourself to run on it — faster and faster until you're outrunning the ships and screaming because you may have visibly "fixed" your leg but it still hurts the same.

and when the system is not only oppressive in the material sense but also set up to make you hate yourself, there is almost no escaping this cycle of self-hatred. throw in the fact that in season 2 viktor keeps getting tossed from resurrection to resurrection against his will and it's no wonder the man did the things he did. it doesn't excuse them by any means, but arcane is not interested in excuses — it's interested in what makes people do the things they do. everything that he did to the people in the commune was a reflection of his own self-hatred, both because he still possessed it after death but also because, since he was programming the hexcore to try and save his life but started with "fixing" his leg, it is designed to make people as physically "normal" as possible. the faceless, identical machine people are a metaphorical representation of the ideology viktor has bought into in his pursuit of self-hatred and internalized ableism. his whole arc across both seasons is a demonstration and condemnation of the ways that systems of oppression reinforce self-hatred in the people they are oppressing.

obligatory disclaimer #2 that I don't think arcane did everything right. I'm frustrated with the direction of season 2 away from the piltover/zaun class conflict and towards the broader league of legends universe. but I do think, as a disabled person with a very similar experience of my disability to viktor, that this arc is well-done and very compelling. in the end, what saves the world is viktor accepting that he is deserving of being loved. I'm going to be thinking about this one for a good long while.

[mirohlayo]

Hi, can I request a Reader x F1 grid story where reader breaks her arm/leg and she can't race because of it, but she still attends the races to watch with her team? And then the drivers start to draw on her cast as a feel better soon gesture.

Maybe she also posts it on her social media throughout the day to show fans the progress of the drawings.

Thank you so much xxx

P.S. Love you writing

Hi !! So as you requested I used the F1 grid, but only the drivers who I write for originally (+ Albon). I also wrote reader as a F1 Academy driver to make it more easy to write and more realistic. It's the first time I write something like this, so hope you'll enjoy it girll !! ᥫ᭡

DRAWINGS ON MY BROKEN ARM

( because maybe you just need some love from your handsome friends. )

warning : none just a broken arm, a cast and fluff

note : I really struggled a lot to find some good cast pictures, these ones are a bit awful lmaoo sorry

word count : 1.3k

It was not planned. This was absolutely not what was planned.

As you get out of the car with difficulty, greeting pleasantly the driver who kindly accompanied you to the Suzuka circuit, you try as best you can not to move your arm too much. If you make unnecessary efforts you will tire yourself out for nothing.

You absolutely did not choose to break your arm. It was due to a mistake, a very big mistake indeed. While you were testing your car during free practice, during a session where the falling rain flooded the track with water, your tires did not grip effectively and you found yourself thrown against the wall, in a fairly serious crash. surprising.

The teams immediately helped you, and while everyone was asking you if you were okay after this crash, that's when you realized a big problem: yes, you were okay, but not your arm. . And after a short stay in the hospital, you now find yourself - or rather your arm - stuck in an amazing cast.

You obviously cannot participate in the next F1 Academy races. But you can, however, do something else that is much more energetic and beneficial for you in the state you are in: attend the F1 race which is currently taking place in Japan.

After all, being locked up for almost a week in your apartment was totally boring and you really need a little fresh air, and above all the passion for this sport to stimulate. Being a very close friend of certain drivers, you did not hesitate for a single second to accept your team's proposal when they offered to accompany you to the Suzuka GP.

Now there you are in the paddock, trying to slip through the others to get to the Mercedes garage. There where you find Georges, who smiles with all his teeth at the sight of you.

“Hello you” He walks over to you and starts to wrap his arms around you in order to give you a hug, but a reflex immediately makes him step back. “Oh sorry, I forgot you have a... little problem” He struggles to finish his sentence, grimacing at the sight of your wrapped arm in a cast.

You giggle before patting his shoulder. "Are you better since your crash? I saw that a few days ago and I was really scared for you." His eyes scan you, he is worried about you. You smile softly at him to reassure him. "Don't worry. I may have a broken arm but that won't stop me from supporting you in this race."

“Oh, Y/n!” Lewis' voice calls out to you, and you turn to face him, Charles next to him. They both smile at you, taking care not to touch your arm so as not to hurt you further. "I'm so sorry about your crash. You must definitely be disappointed." Lewis affectionately caresses your shoulder, a show of affection and support.

"At least you're alive, that's the main thing. It's good to see you here, the other guys miss you you know." Charles explains the situation, telling you how worried and scared the pilots were following your accident. You also received several messages from them on instagram, in which they supported you and showered you with kind words.

“Y/NNN!!” Daniel screams your name from afar, a big smile on his face as he almost throws himself at you. “Hey watch out for his arm.” Lewis alerts Daniel so he doesn't hurt you, but he doesn't seem to hear anything and comes to take you in his arms. “Daniel, I’ll go back to the hospital if you continue.” He finally pulls away, carefully observing your cast.

“Maybe I should call the others, they’ll be happy to see you.” Charles volunteers to bring the other drivers back, while you chat with your friends. They are all very respectful and very attentive, they are sincerely empathetic towards you.

In the distance, you finally see the rest of the boys arriving.

“Here’s my girl.” Lando comes to wrap his arm around your shoulders, a smirk present on his lips. You push him away, grimacing to tease him, and he holds his heart as if you had just broken it into a thousand pieces. "I know I shouldn't have sent you that 'get well soon' with a red heart on Instagram, hypocrite." He pretends to roll his eyes but his smile betrays him.

"Indeed, you shouldn't have. Your teammate was the first to message me and that's why he's my favorite boy today." Oscar tssk while crossing his arms, however amused by the situation. Max, Carlos and Alex are discreetly added to the group that has just formed around you.

“Even with a broken arm, you can do a lot of things you know.” Max told you in a confident manner. “Like Lance last year.” Carlos chuckled at Lando, both nodding at the same time because they thought the same thing. You can't help but feel alive again.

It's true that the last few days were difficult. Alone, injured and locked in your apartment, you no longer had much of a taste for life. You kept asking yourself questions about your future, about the rest of the races of the year. You were also worried. But you knew that coming here, being surrounded by your closest friends again, laughing and talking with them, was all you needed. You can only be grateful to them.

“I have an idea guys!” Alex then exclaims, drawing attention to himself. “Since Y/n is injured, and her cast is… white and bland, we should draw to give her courage.” He said while pointing at your cast. The other drivers nod, agreeing with the Williams driver's idea.

“I will have the honor of drawing first!” Then begins George, who is already ready to fight to have his drawing on your cast. "She wants a drawing of her favorite driver which is me. Too bad for you, George." Lando, and his sassy attitude, is ahead of the Mercedes driver. “I bet I draw better than all of you so let me do it.” Carlos steps forward to assert himself.

They seem to be on the verge of fighting over who will have the honor of drawing best, or who will draw first. You laugh while calming the situation. "Look, you're all going to be able to draw. We just need some markers." You remark, as you wave to your team in the distance to help you.

It doesn't take long before they arrive with a small pencil case filled with different colored markers. You then sit on a chair in a corner of the garage, the nine drivers around you. Oscar is the first to draw on your cast, while the others are still fighting over who will go second.

In the end, after a good session of laughter and slightly failed drawings, the result is there. Your plaster is decorated with designs, each one as extravagant as the last, but that doesn't matter, because their intention comes from the heart. This sincere gesture will certainly give you courage for the rest of your adventure, you are sure of it.

And as they all give you one last smile, one last hug, they leave to prepare for the approaching race. You end up joining your team further in the VIP stands, ready for the start of the race. “What a beautiful cast” Your engineer nods at the magnificent designs on your arm, and you smile. “Beautiful may not be the word, but it’s very precious to me for sure.”

And as you share a laugh, the red lights go out, as the din of cars echoes throughout the circuit. For a moment, everything seems wonderful. It's crazy how a simple little attention like drawings can brighten up your day a little more. And can also brighten up the day of others, like those of your fans for example...

yourusername just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and others...

yourusername: maybe no more arm but at least I have my handsome boyys ❤️

view comments

danielricciardo: if anyone wonders who drew the beautiful star, it’s me ✌️😁

⤷ landonorris: you wrote on her arm instead of her cast you dickhead

⤷ danielricciardo: I was feeling different 😜

user: Alex just writing his name makes absolutely sense

user: no cuz they're literally the SWEETEST ahww

⤷ yourusername: only oscar cuz he's the one who drew the best

⤷ danielricciardo: but you said it was me earlier

⤷ yourusername: i lied plus you literally drew on my SKIN instead of my cast 😠

landonorris: my girl not giving any credits to my amazing beautiful drawing 💔

⤷ yourusername: yeah cuz you have no talent, keep it up it's awful mate 🔥🔥

⤷ landonorris: hypocrite I hate you

charles_leclerc: take care of yourself y/n ❤️

georgerussell63: I slayed, my drawing is lit

⤷ yourusername: no ��🥱

user: i need friends as precious as them, love their friendship !!

[brionysea]

when it comes to the umbrella academy, a lot of people seem to think that the first half is great and the second half is terrible. personally, I think only the first *season* is great, or even good. here's why:

the mission statement at the end of season 1 is fixing viktor, but viktor isn't the only broken one, so you can infer that they're all going to have to fix *each other* - as a family, the one thing their abuser never let them be. and the world's burning down around them because of the most dramatic sibling confrontation to ever grace the earth, but they're holding hands and escaping together and surviving the impossible with the intent to move forward, even if that means momentarily moving backwards. it's a masterful allegory for finally growing up, accepting responsibility for your personal trauma and tragedy and how they shaped you, and the moment you take that power back by choosing to heal your inner child, only after being slapped in the face with the fact that if you don't, it *will* destroy everything you've ever built, ever cared about, and ever could.

and then the rest of the show forgets all of it. as it were, it goes in the *exact opposite direction.*

on the surface, the second season isn't *as* bad as the subsequent ones are. but season 3 and 4's faults can be traced back to season 2 by how it pivoted away from the serious subject matter that the story (not the plot - the *story*) was heavily baked in, leaning hard into the goofier elements instead, without ever understanding the contrast that those conflicting elements served to highlight. it made them both more powerful; the jokes were funnier because you were just devastated, and the trauma was more devastating because you were just in tears laughing. the emotional roller coaster is key to understanding these people, and you *have* to take the serious stuff seriously for it to work. at least half of the show doesn't, and as a result, the emotional moments feel hollow.

controversial opinion: as a character, luther is better in season 1 than he is anywhere else. he's more unlikable, but that's because he's implicitly there to show what *not* to do - even if he'd succeeded narratively by locking viktor up and saving the world, he still failed thematically by emulating their father and continuing the cycle of abuse - so luther's a character that's being very effectively used to add to the core theme of the story. he feels like a real, frustrating person, whose brain chemistry got messed up by years of abuse and isolation, all for the crime of thinking his father loved him and wanted the best for him. not like a made up guy on your screen doing silly stuff solely for your entertainment.

season 2 was also the start of the characters getting love interests instead of storylines, which season 1 never would have *dreamed* of; klaus and dave's tragic romance only served to further klaus's character arc, viktor's creepy boyfriend was actually manipulating him the whole time, five's fractured-psyche-mannequin was a narrative tool to let us see into the head of such an emotionally reticent character, and so on. the romance served the character, but fairly quickly into the show's progression, it felt like the character started serving the romance. five was immune to this curse for a long time due to aidan gallagher's age, which is why he's (for the most part) the best, most consistent character across the show, because they had to use their *imagination* for him and actually *write an arc* instead of falling back on tired romance tropes that any selection of characters could slot into to fill the dead space.

after season 1, the umbrella academy is entertaining, but it doesn't have anything to *say.* which is extremely disappointing when the show initially made such a strong case for what it wanted to be.

[ladyoftheblades]

calm after the storm

jaycetalis x reader

summary: the arcane horrors are enough to send a mortal man into the depths of depravity, jayce, having just ascaped the hexcore know this a little too well. he knows there is only one thing that may keep his sanity from snapping: the girl he knows is waiting for him back home.

a/n: this is not cannon compliant, imagine mel is a lesbian in this universe, i just finished this at 1.30 am i have 8 am classes tomorrow but i cant break a promise, enjoy !!!

+

the vast emptiness of light wad oddly a welcome sight. white with specles of pastel color stretched toward all four directions further than his tired eyes could see.

jace took a moment of reprieve, setting his hammer down but not letting go of the handle, far too scared, far too aware of the horrors that could be awaiting him the next second.

he had no trust in the calm but he accepted it anyway, he had no choise but, if he stayed on his feet another second he may collapse, and janna knows what would aait him in his unconscious state...

one by one, cautiously, tentattively, his feet fell to the ground, of the ceiling, or... he could hardly tell. in any case, the weariness became a little easier to bear with his body sitting.

jayce took a deep breath. the sound reverbrated through the abyss of the arcane, travelling, mixing with its surroundings untill it ceased to exist, only to be followed by another deep breath and the course continued this queer melody, monotone, a strange calm.

jayce had been trapped in the hexcore... he knew not how long. the only thing he knew was the strain in his muscles, the ache in his bones, the bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and the pain in bones from the hits he took.

through this odyssey of violence and strangeness, his sole anchor was his hammer. symbol of his family and a familiar tool, one that had accompanied him since first he could walk. though that too had been corrupted, its form changed, resembling somewhat the vastness surounding him.

but that was not entirely true... he had one more weapon in his arsenal, ensuring he does not lose himself in the horrors, one entirely uncorrupted, one nothing could take away from him: her.

his biggest treasure, his shinning light, his beacon of hope, his prayar when times get hard.

he sat and pondered, that is all he did when he was alone, replaying the memories again and again, afraid the darkness may erase them from his mind.

they had met years ago, in the academy. she had been hired to fill the void left by victor as professor heimerdingers assistand. he will never forget the first time he locked eyes with her.

the professor had made no attempt to formally introduce them, too preocupied with whatever else in his mind. therefore, when he walked into his lab one morning, only to be met with her back snooping around and taking notes, he was surprised to say the least. at first his instinct was to yell at her but once she turned around to look at him all anger dissipated from his body.

her eyes seemed like stars twinkling in the morning light as they looked at him, her features painting a perfect picture, face surprised ever so slightly. she explained herself but even after she did he remained dumbfounded, stumbling over his words, bringing a smile to her face, and a small chuckle escaping her lips. she took a step forward, leaning into him when she said the words etched into his heart. "i will be seeing you soon, mr progress" and with that she left, leaving him frozen on the spot to be found by viktor.

her words were true. since them they saw more and more of eachother, at first in the lab, then in the lad and after, untill eventually they were essentially inseperable. as his carrer proceeded and he fell deeper and deeper into the intricacies, the guile and the treachery of politics, she was always there, waiting for him in his house, in his lab, backstage from his stage to remind him of his goal, of his self. his pillar his beacon, his hope.

now she was... gone. or rather he was gone, ripped away from her arms and thrust into this labirinth of magic and malice, not knowing when or if he would ever escape.

his mind was running back to that first meeting, a moment of peace at last, when again his surroundings changed.

jace shot up, assuming a battle stance he had become all too familiar with, ready to take on whatever the arcane threw at him, with the hope to return to her, when the landscape changed again, and again, as if glitching, once twice thrice untill he was thrust in the white void once again, only this time, he had company...

councilor salo, his former coleague, standing right in front of him. he thought it was magic playing tricks on him. the councilor was... changed. he was walking, despite the damage taken by jinxs boms and his face had weird marks, reminiscent of the hexcores essance, he was not there to bring good news. "salo ? what are you doing here, how are you walking ?"

salo replied, but his voice was changed aswell, warped unto something unhuman. salo relayed his message from victor, the entire conversation almost too surreal for him to comprehend but the things he had seen had turned hi sstomach into steel, and despite salos words he knew what he had to do...

the councilor or victor or whatever this thing wearing the facade of his former friend concluded its little speech, but jayce knew his destiny "i cant let you leave" spoke jayce.

with a smug but calm confidence, salo turned to leave "im sorry you feel that way" he said as he made his exit.

but jayce had a duty, a goal, a purpose, more importanly he had a promise had had to fulfill, one he was too blind to see before but all to aware of now, "im sorry too" and with a simple swing of his hammer, salo was gone.

jayces vision went hazy, all the exhaustion catching up to him, mixing with the weight of salos words, making his feel queezy, fell all the things he had not allowed himself to all this while.

he knew what he had to dy, call it duty or fate of want, he had to rid the world of the hexcore, using any means necessary.

the tragedy of salos death, rather his muder brought atleast one blessing, he was back at the hexgates. he dragged with the last remainants of strength left in his body his feet forward, his mind replaying all of the things he had seem, nightmares come to life, threatening to consume his mind, to drag him the their abyss now and forever, all the way through the exit, to the elevator to the outside of the hexgates they fought to erase his sanity, but as he stepped outside the gates, feeling the fresh air hit his face, fill his lungs and the morning light hitting his eyes, from the dephts of his soul a light occure: a vision of her, his saviour his saint, his guiding star.

he could see from up here the entire city and for a secont the romantic view, the vision of her, they softened his worries, cleared his head, and a new need emerged, the need to get to her, finally.

the night was young, sun still dousing the sky in twilight, few stars were visible from her window and below the upset city of piltover. tonight was a quiet night, military had pulled from the streets, atleast a little, and there were no conflicts at hand.

her window had a view of almost the whole city, something she used to find much pelasure in but now was indifferent to. the window might as well have been facing a brick wall. it was all irrelevant, the voilence, the conflict, the war... nothing mattered.

she sat on her bed and stared out the window with a lazy gaze. it was a wonder she even had sat up, usually only having enery to turn side to side.

weeks had passed since she had last seen jayce. they had been in this very room when he said "i need to head to the lab, i will propably be late but not too late, wait for me ?"

liar. fucking liar. "not too late" my ass. he was gone for weeks, disappeared off the face of the earth.

his absence had been felt by her immeietly. she had tried to saty up that fateful night, but sleep tugged on her eyelids thus she had gone to bed, excpecting to find him in her bed by the time she woke up. when morning came and he was not sharing her bed, she still did not worry. but morning was followed by noon was followed by night, and jayce had yet to come back to her.

since then, she had fully gone through the stages of grief. the first ?denial.

on the first night she had gone to his lab but jayce was nowhere to be found, she had then gone to his house only to be met with absence once again. she figured he was held up somewhere with work, so, she went to work a usual, taught her classes, returned home, made them both dinner, ironed the clothes he left behind and washed his pyjamas to wear when he came back. still, there was no knock on her door. no sight of jayce

anger. his multy day absence led her to a clear conslusion; he was cheating. she paced around her house, blasting loud music from her record player, cursing his very existance. she gathered his clothes, his clean clothes she had washed herself by hand, fully intending to burn them, but as she saw the pile infront of her, a painting of their life together, she could not bring herself to. besides, she knew her jace, he would never do such a thing, would never hurt her in such a way, which led her to the next stage:

bargaining. something bad had to happen to jayce to keep him away this long, he was obviously in danger and no one was doing anything about it. she attempted to speak with enforcers but they dismised her as if she were a child. she went to everyone she could think of for help, to no avail, everyone either had their own problems or simply did not take her seriously. the acolade of her desperation came when she knocked on the kirammans door, or at least attempled to. the noxian guard posted outside threw her out before she could even approach the door. did truly everyone so easily accept martial law and forget about one of their very own counsilors ?

finally, she reahced the final stage: depression. her jayce was gone, either from her life or from piltover but it mattered little. he was gone and the void he left behind in her heart was to never be filled again. she stopped going to work, not that she had much work, classes having almost completely ceased in the academy in sight of the conflicts, she stopped going out, stopped cleaning, she would have stopped cooking if it was not her sole source of sustinence. all she did was sit around the house, waiting or crying, listening to her vinyls and crying some more untill even that became too much and she was reduced to only her bed.

her friends had noticed, knocking on the door a few days ago. they noted her catatonic state but could do nothing to help her, only offering words of reassurance "you will get though this Y/N. you are strong with or without him, and you will get better".

their words were nice but to her, void. jace had been the axis around which her life rotated for 5 years now, he was her past present and future but now he was gone. ripped from her so violently and without explaination. was he dead ? had he been entangled in a fight which proved fatal ? or had he abandoned her ? the questions swirled her head constanly, creating a buzz, a fog, in her head as well as behind her eyes, rendering her hopeless.

she could not even pinpoint the exact time jayce had been gone, hours had melted into days had melted into weeks, into a jumbled mess as unclear in her head as her questions. it did not matter how long he was gone anyway, he had left her.

as she sat up in her bed, observing the window she cursed herself for having washed their sheets and jayces clothes, his scent she so loved and oh so longed for was erased, tabula raza. everything sucks. nothing is the way it was supposed to. nothing would ever be the way it was meant to again, not without her guiding star, she found his title as "man of tomorrow" quite apt, for she could thing of no tomorrow without him.

and as she sat there wallowing, surrounded by sadness and self loathing, the doorbell rang.

if it had been another time she would have jumped to open it, holding onto the hope,a small ember if it,that maybe it would be her jayce. now all of it had been snuffed out. jayce was never coming back. she took her time, only moving her head slightly, pondering the identity of the intruder. could it be the neighbours ? a student ? noxian soldiers ? she landed on it being her friends, with cleaning supplies propably, ready for round two of 'cheer up the professor".

the bell sounded again. anoying her friends were, but she blamed them not, their insistance was born of concern. thus, she took her feet of the bed, taking a second to find balance before she dragged herself to the door. the bell rang one final time before her hand reached the doorknob, leading her to grow slightly irritated, the little bit her depressed state allowed atleast.

so sure she was of the visitors identity, she did not look through the peephole, oppening the door immedietly to find...

jayce.

jayce, her jayce.

her jayce who had been missing for janna knows how long.

the professors jaw dropped, and she thought of rubbing her eyes to ensure it was not a cruel dream, but was given no chance, jayce stepping into her appartment and falling into her arms immedietly.

her mind could hardly comprehend what was going on, taking a second to react to his sudden affection, to his sudden presance. his familiar frame in her arms finally registered, leading her to instinctively react, placing her arms around him, holding him close, oh so close, sqeezing his frame, as if at any second he would be stolen away from her again.

they stood there, door ajar, frozen in time, holding eachother, not wanting to let go in fear of returning to the nightmare of their time apart. they stood embracing, drinking in eachothother, hearts beating in tandem, finally full now that they reunited. at peace, at last.

the fog of questions in her mind cleared out, they mattered no more, he was back, he came back to her, to hell with what he had been doing in the meantime.

jayce felt his exhaustion melt from his body, muscles relaxing finally. he moved his head to burry his nose in her hair, taking a deep breath, his lungs filling with her scent calming his nerves. the horrors of the arcane mattered little now. the trials he had passed, the tribulations he endured, the eldritch terrors he faced all with the image of her in his mind, with the memories he replayed in his head like film, holding close to his heart to get through that nightmare had paid off.

he would never be the same again, scarred far too deep, the rune etched in his wrist evidence of that but his love had not faltered a second, and he knew she would still love him no matter what.

they stood there awhile, untill it wasnt enough. she was the first to move, pulling her head from jayces chest to look up at him, to meet his eyes she so loved. when he returned her gaze, she noticed the change in thm; the bit of darkness, the lack of liveliness, but still they were uniquely jayce. it was as if two pieces of a puzzle came together, two parts of one whole, two parts that did not make sense on their own but together created a most beautifull image.

a thousand thoughts ran through her head, so many things she wanted to say, wanted to express, so many emotions that she did not know where to start. but from the way he looked at her, deep brown eyes filled to the brim with adoration, eyes that had seen her whole and loved her whole, she knew he understood, words were unecessary.

"you look like shit" she landed on finally, earning from him a chuckle. her words rang true, he did look like shit. looked as if he had been dragged through hell. his clothes were ripped and tattered, modified with makeshift armour in aome places, and the parts intact were either dripping with sweat or dirty with blood and dirt. his face, his beautifull face was in no better state, painted even darker than his usual tan complexion, beard rowdy and uncempt, hair outgrown, with dired blood and aweat covering majority of it. dirty, rugh and dark.

still, as she looked up at him he looked like an angel, her angel, finally in her arms again.

his deep rich chuckle reverbrated in his chest, sending a jolt of joy through her own body. his voice, more hoarse than usual but just as pleasant and masculine as she remembered spoke "you look prefect"

a pang of guilt rang through her chest, there he went and filled her ears with sweet words when she had just insulted him.

he looked down to her, eyes dark, yet filled with the relief only a man who had all he ever wanted could hold, for that is exactly what she is to him: his dream, his religion and key to his happiness.

his head craned down to kiss her, foot simultaniously moving to shut the door behind him. their lips meeting was like an explosion of a thousand suns. they always had been very good at making love, two halves who knew eachother better than themselves, lips now slotting together like puzzle pieces. the kiss was soft but not chaste, deep with the emotions pouring between them, an equilibrium of love and lust, lips moving against eachother seeking the salvation only the other could bring.

that first kiss was everything, when jayce pulled back finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had been derived of oxygen and her kiss was his release. his hands moved on her back, shifting from her waist to her head, the other moving up and down, pulling her closer, even moreso, tracing lines which sent waves of warmth all through her.

he put their lips together again, just as passionate as the first but now there was something new. need. pure untainted need. he needed her to breathe, needed her to exist and the kiss comunicated just that.

the hand on her head burried itself in her hair, pulling just slightly, not to hurt but to hold onto something, to make sure she would not escape. as if she ever would, this, him, was all she ever wanted, all she ever needed.

wirhout breaking away she oppened her mouth, his tongue immedietly intruding, deepening the kiss further.

jayce was hungry, starved.

his hand behind her back moved again, wishing to rid them of the barrier named clothes, bringing itself beneath her shirt. his palm was cold causing the professor to flinch ever so slightly. jayce was not detered, pulling, tugging her shirt up hurriedly. eventually they had to break the kiss, much to both their dismay. swiftly he pulled the fabric off of her, tossing it to the side to land on the other piles of dirty clothes around the house.

he took a moment to admire her. she was as perfect as he remembered, soft and sweet. she waited patiently for him to finish drinking her in, chest rising up and down with deep anticipating breaths, the move causing him to grow even more infatuated.

he moved again to close the distance between them, rougher this time, so quick she had not the time to process, aware of his move only by the renewed presance of his lips on hers. jayces need had transfered onto her, feeling the heat in every inch of her body, stomach flipping in excitement. her hands flew to his chest, beggining to undo his vest but his armour got in the way.

her hands struggled to undo the clasps of it, soon growing frushtrated the longer she fiddled with the clasp to no avail. jayces hands moved slowly, tracing lines from shoulders to forearms to wrists, leaving goosebups in their wake. his hands cupped hers, rough and caloused, taking them fully in their grasp, begining to assist her in undoing the damned clasp.

one by one pieces dropped with thuds to the floor acompaniyng the sounds of their kissing in the otherwise silent appartment. once the last piece was off, her hands sprung once again to action, undoing his vest and shedding it from his shoulders.

her hands began to then roam his chest. she noted new scars had formed, rough under the pads of her fingers, foreign, maiming the man she had up to now known every trace of. the scars were not the only change though. his body had gotten more defined, muscles more pronounced. a welcome change, one which sent a storm of inapproptiate thoughts to her mind. having explored his body to satisfaction the professors hands moved again, lower and lower, slowly, teasingly, threatening to undo his belt but never daring get too close to doing so.

jayce was not having it. he needed her now, her teasing would not be tolerated. to accelerate the process of undressing his hands moved, loosening his belt and lowering his breeches with much haste, discarding them in the same unceremonious fashion he had her shirt.

he began to move forward with quick decisive steps still cautious not to ever break their kiss, tracing a path to her couch. she followed his lead with much reverance, utill she felt the couch behind her knees. jayce did not allow her to fall back just yet. his hands moved to remove her shorts, one movement bearing her of both pants and undergarments.

only then did her allow her to fall back, giving her a shove, harsher than intended, her smaller body landing on the pillows with a thud and a high-pitched yelp from her mouth, earning from him another chuckle.

he did not wait for her to accustom to the new position, moving immedietly to kiss her again, placing his knee between her legs, upper body caging her in, trapping her like a predator corners pray.

their kisses had grown hungry, need growing into an uncontrollable beast, morphing into desperation. jayce kissed her with an open mouth, all teeth and tongue, but it was welcomed, everything by him was welcomed, time appart had made her a husk of herself. now with jayce in her arms again her life was back in orbit and she wanted him in any way he would have her.

his hands moved, beggining from shoulders and lowering; caressing, toutching or groping whatever flesh he could find, promising to leave a few bruises here and there.

jayce had always been a strong man, something he was very aware of and made even moreso whenever they had sex. he was a strong guy and he knew it, leading him to be extra cautious with her, treating his girl like porcelain, like a doll to be revered and taken care of.

none of that was happening today.

whatever jayce had been through mustve shook him to his core. when he toutched her before it was with the reverance of a priest readiyng his altar, now his hands comunicated the hunger of a ravenous animal.

he needed to feel her close, needed to know she was with him. the arcane had put him through horrors beyond the mortal imaginations, forever in his lips her name, one ray of light in the endless abyss of his torture. he may very well have gone insane if it werent for her. even now, the images of all he had witnessed played in his mind, in some dark corner, threatening to take over and drag him in their madness. their attempt only made his need stronger, his hands rougher, his body more desperate, holding onto his light, pouring out onto her all the frustration, the fear and anger onto her skin. and she took it. she took all he would give, as he knew she would.

his hands had lowered to her hips, only to find them moving, ever so slightly, grinding on his knee in a desperate plea for friction, for something to aleviate the burning in her loins. his hands gripped them, halting all movement, causing her to whine in his mouth. "i know darling, i know" he said.

with hands on her hips were holding on for dear life, surely to leave large bruises come morning, jayces desperation reached its tipping point, unable to hold back anymore cock hard and dripping, begging for release.

any other day he would put himself aside to focus on her fully and only allow his own pleasure after she had had her fill. but now, whith his limbs burning in anticipation, he had not that option.

with a swift movement her flipped her around, manhandling his girl to bend over the couch. he placed the palm of one hand on her back, pressing her torso into the pillows, the other under her thighs keeping them in place, both creating a low arch in her back.

she had been his prayar when times got rough, her kiss his salvation and now her body his reward, his sin. oh and how sinfull she was indeed.

he could see through the dim light her cunt glistening in anticipation. his thumb moved, tracing a line betweed her folds, dragging down onto her clit and taking pause, pressing on her button. the caress, as slight as it was, sent a jolt of pleasure through her body, releasing in a moan, muffled somewhat by the couch. "jayce... please..." she said, tone a step before a whimper.

in response, jayce pulled his thumb from her folds, in favour of taking his cock in his palm. he lined himself with her entrance, and began to slowly enter her folds. he had only just entered his tip yet the professor already could feel her head fogging up in a lustfull haze, unable now to control the sounds escaping her mouth.

when he was about halfway in, anticipation took control, bottoming put in one quick thrust, his thighs hitting hers with force. the movement caused him to release a groan, low and masculine, synchronised with his girls own moan, a melody of pleasure filling the appartment that had for so long been empty of love.

and that first thrust proved the key that unlocked pandoras box for jayce did not waste any time, setting immedietly a brutal pace.

he was drunk on her, an addict that had been derived of his vice too long, only to now indulge again. the appartment filled with sounds of their coupling, lewd and crude but musical in their own way. her slight uncontrolled moans in direct contrast to his low groans, playing to the tempo of jayces pace.

his hipps slapped harshly against hers but his rough hands kept her somewhat grounded and in place. soon she felt his chest press against her back. skin hot and muscles firm, hard and controlling on her back, forcing her deeper into the couch. she could feel the rumble of his moans through his chest, another sense to add to the cocktail of sensations. she thought jayce could not possibly get more intoxicating when his head landed right next to her ear.

sharp contrast to the movement of his hips, jayces lips were soft, plastering kisses all over the side of her face. moving on toward her neck, nape and shoulderblades. each individual press of his lips a decleration of adoration, somewhat an apology for the rough way he was punding her into the pillows.

in this worship of her body, he found a particularly sweet spot, betwix neck and shoulder, one he knew from years of experience drove his girl crazy and began to roughly suck on the skin. the moan released from her throat was damn near pornographic, making heat rise to her cheeks in embarasment, burrying her head into the couch.

jayce made a cooing sound, mocking, he was fucking mocking her. jayce was causing her delirioum, thrusting into her with unparalleled frevor, lips working her neck like a violin, and now he mocked her for being affected by it.

he craned his head to place again his mouth on her ear. such a smug fuck he was today, but the moan he accidentally released with a hot breath matched her own in hue and desperation "i love you so, so much. i cannot bear to be away from you again, i hardly bore it this time. darling you have no idea what i have been through... but i would do it all over again, just to make it back to you, even if only to place one last kiss upon your brow."

jayces honeyed words sent tears into the professors eyes. hurriedly she twisted her head, lips desperately seeking his, needing to show him what he ment to her, for words would surely fail her at this time.

their lips met in a soft kiss, chaste, innocent, loving. oh so loving. and when they had savoured the moment to satisfacrion, jayce pulled back again. his back left hers, the loss of heat leaving her suseptible to the cold bite of the night air. already she could feel that tightness in her stomach, the sensory overload melting all thoughts away, leaving only pleasure and jayce.

his thrusts got rougher, something she had thought to be impossible. she could feel the tightness in her stomach building up from the movement of his hips, pairing with the swell of her heart from his words. her hands moved from her sides to her back, begging for him to hold onto her, jayce did not give in to his lights request, taking both her wrists in one palm and placing them firmly on her back. she whined loudly hoping it may sway his mind, but he was not so easily deterred, not today atleast.

his other palm grabbed again her hip, starved as he was, brutally pushing his way inside her. the professors entire body rutted, the front of her hips slamming against the couch- yet another bruise she would have to account for in the morning- her ass and back of her hips slammed on by jace, the entire movement an exchange of forcefullness, leaving her in the middle delirious from pleasure. the pressure in her stomach that had built up so long now was nearing an edge, nearing the orgasm she had so long been anticipating.

jayce threw his head back an array of groans and moans he could not hold back escaping his lips, he was close, so close. he kept his eyes away from her form for he knew one glance down at the soft body of the woman he so loved would shoot him straight across the edge.

he wanted to hold back, oh how he wished to, but the depravation had depleted his endurance somewhat, and with the knoledge just a day ago thought the day where he could have her in his arms again would never come, rendered him unable. "darling im...ugh, im close" he said inbetween moans. "i know, please jayce..." she replied in that sweet angelic voice of hers.

with one final thrust he bottomed out inside her, sealing as well her own release, both finnishing with final moans of pleasure.

everything was hazy, her mind swirling with pleasure, the sensations on her body leaving behind a soreness that would only get worse, and in her eyes with unshed tears she could not make out couch from wall. the places jayce had grabbed with particular frevor and her hips where the couch had slammed were more than sore, they hurt, but it was a pain she was glad to caary and one she would choose a thousand times over that of the heartache she had endured these past few weeks.

she felt jayce move behind her but was too tapped out to realise his exact movements, untill she felt hands wrapp around her body, lifting her up off of the couch and repositioning her to sit across the couch. a

jayce positioned himself to the other end of her head, taking in his lap her legs, regret no doubt sinking in as he began to lightly massage them. they both took a moment to breathe, surrounded by comfortable silence.

the professor took liberty of breaking the silence once again "that was the best sex weve ever had"

jayce laughed, no more shy chuchled, he laughed with his whole chest, and for a moment the carefree man she had come to love before the anomaly of the past few weeks returned, if even for a moment. he craned his head to look at her, a sweet sappy smile playing at his scared lips but in his eyes was something else, something she recognised as the brewing of an apology. the air settled in a more serious tone.

"im sorry for-" "its ok, jayce. i know." she replied, not allowing him to relay the little speech he had prepared for it was uneeeded. whatever had kept him away so long was clearly nothing pleasureable, if her trust in him was not enough his appearance proved it.

she had snuffed out the apology but jayce had a lot of things on his chest, clearly. he lowered his head into her lap, hands holding onto her waist for dear life but with clear caustion and tenderness as he began to speak "you do not know the half of it my love. i-... i was with professor heimerdinger and this kid ekko, they had a hextech related problem, they came to me. we went to the gates together to investigate, but the hexcore.... i may never be able to relay onto you the things that happened, the things i saw."

"i understand... i would never force you to do anything you do not wish to jayce" she replied as she began to lazily play with his hair. 'there is still a lot to be done, a lot i have to do. i may need to... i may need to leave again"

those words sent a pang to her chest, hand halting their movements. jayce noticed, taking her palm in his own and lazily playing with the professors fingers, a small comfort. "but i promise, i will be back, i will always come back here, i told you snd i will tell you a thousand times more. do you trust me ?"

he looked up to her as he said those last words, eyes begging for something he knew to be too much. he was asking for her to put her heart entirely in his hands, with close to no guarantee of ever getting it back. but as his brown eyes looked at her, so changed and yet the same, she knew he already had her everything, she would trust him always. "of course i do, i always will" she said.

to love is to trust, to love is to wait, to love is to fight, to love is to traverse the worst horrors of the world only with the prayar of your lovers name on your lips. and they loved eachother more than anything.

as if on que he placed a kiss into her palm, with the worries that plagued him so now lifted from his chest he felt a bit lighter, rising from her lap to stand. "but before anything, i need to bathe"

she laughed, the sound foreign even to her ears, "well i have clean clothes for you, and shampoo"

jayce looked around a bit, gathering his clothes -to throw away- making no comment on the horrid state of the appartment much to her relief, "do you have a razor too ?"

she thought for a moment "maybe keep the beard"

[flawseer]

Ok, these time rate me the Jade WInglets

I've been sitting on this work-in-progress picture for so many months now. Maybe if I post it here, I'll finally sit down and finish it.

Very long post incoming.

Discussing the Jade Winglet

Okay. So, you want me to rate the Jade Winglet group. That’s going to be very easy: I love all of them.

It’s also going to be extraordinarily hard because... well... I love all of them. How am I supposed to put them into an ordered list? It can’t be done. So I guess what I’m going to do is: First I will put them into a tier list, and then I’m going to just talk about each of them individually for a bit.

But on account of aforementioned adoration I have for all of these guys, said tier list is going to be very lopsided. The tiers are going to be “I adore them with the intensity of seven suns”, “I really like them”, and “I very much like them, but...”. You’re going to have to imagine that there are five or so more unused tiers below that.

Let’s unceremoniously get that ranking out of the way first. From top to bottom, the tiers are:

I adore Turtle, Qibli, and Winter.

I really like Moonwatcher, Kinkajou, and Peril.

I very much like Umber and Carnelian.

As for more in-depth commentary, here is a disclaimer: When I think about these guys I mostly consider books 6 (Moon Rising) to 9 (Talons of Power) and the first half of 10 (Darkness of Dragons). The second half of 10... if I’m being honest, I didn’t really enjoy it. I don’t want to go into it too much here, if you really want me to talk about my misgivings with the second arc finale, put a message about it in my inbox (it’s not just the obvious thing; it actually mostly pertains to Winter and the absolute nightmare ending he got saddled with, and some very unfortunate character implications).

Some of my musings are also going to be a bit critical. I just want it to be clear that I make these observations as a fan of the series. It’s a good practice to think critically even about media that you like. It helps you better understand why you like it in the first place. Also, I make no demands to be agreed with. This is just how I see it.

Anyway, enough stalling, let’s get into it. Not in order:

Turtle

CW: Parental abuse

Turtle is the most wonderful thing to ever happen in the history of the universe. I wake up every morning and the first thought in my head is “Ugh, another day in this backwards reality where Turtle is not real! No thanks!!” Then I go right back to sleep disappointed until the next day. Okay, maybe that’s a bit hyperbolic. But I do think that everyone’s lives would be greatly improved if Turtle was real.

Turtle is a very vibrant and insightful character who, much like Winter, is unfortunately cursed with a pair of malicious and incompetent "parents". Some of his scenes really hurt to get through if you’re a parent yourself or have ever had parental feelings. The first scene he is in, when Moon observes him arriving at the academy, his mother makes a passing comment about how Turtle has no value because he cannot inherit the throne. Turtle is within earshot when she does this. And he has no overt reaction to it, which to me hints that Coral asserts this about her male children so frequently that he has accepted her line of thinking and internalized it. He just accepts it as the truth. That is heartbreaking.

And then there is his father, mild-mannered and ostensibly gentle Gill, who killed Turtle’s budding interest in writing as well as the entirety of his self-confidence back when he was a kid, by assigning a little boy a task that was well beyond him (and only to him, even though there were more people present who could have helped), and then made him believe he killed his unborn sister when Turtle inevitably couldn’t do what he was asked. The narrative really tries to make Gill sympathetic in that moment by insisting he’s speaking in anger and doesn’t really mean it, but um, no. I don’t buy it, dude. You just gave a little kid a lifelong guilt complex because you couldn’t think of asking more people for help. Or taking the egg with you while you left the hatchery. Or telling Turtle to take a message to the palace guard so someone who didn’t still have their milk teeth could mount a proper, organized search while interim guards were posted in the hatchery. Or literally any of the thousands of other options that didn’t require traumatizing your own son.

As a result, Turtle became emotionally reclusive. He registers to others as dull, placid, unpassionate, and boring, like he cares about nothing and is content to never strive for or achieve anything in his life. He himself explains that writing used to be something he was into at some point, but then lost interest in. But I don’t think he has. He still loves literature and thinking about stories, he's still doing it in his internal monologue. He just denies it because he subconsciously feels the need to punish himself. I imagine he still gets that drive sometimes, to sit down and start writing again. But every time he thinks about it, or catches himself wanting anything, his father’s voice resurfaces in his mind, telling him that he killed his sister and doesn’t deserve it. And then he self-punishes by depriving himself of everything he loves doing and every positive emotion associated with it. Because he is convinced he is guilty for failing his father, when in actuality, the opposite is true.

The tragedy is that, if Gill had known how much damage he caused and wasn’t in a situation where he needed a flowchart to keep his 30+ sons apart, he probably would have apologized. He doesn’t strike me as malicious, just horribly, horribly incompetent as a parent. But as things played out, Gill is no longer able to fix his mistake. The only person who can now grant Turtle the forgiveness he needs is himself. I hope he will be able to do it.

Turtle truly is an endearing character and a wonderful son undeserved by his parents. If I could adopt him right now I would. In fact, I’m gonna do it. Hold on while I get the papers. Wait, I have to finish? Uh... okay.

Moonwatcher

In a sense, Moonwatcher may be the most interesting character in the entire cast. She certainly had the potential to be my favorite character period. But there are a few points holding her back.

The thing about Moonwatcher is that, more than any other character, she requires meticulous care and attention to detail to be written well. The reason for this is that, when you’re writing for Moon, you also technically write for every character she interacts with. She is written brilliantly in her own book, since the narrative is allowed to focus on her; Moon Rising may thus actually be my favorite book of the second arc. It’s very enrapturing, seeing her navigate the academy’s social dynamics after growing up as, essentially, a feral jungle child, and battling with her own feelings of loneliness and inadequacy.

The thing is though... Wings of Fire has a bit of an odd quirk. Something I’ve noticed with regards to its writing is that, whenever a character is not particularly in focus during a scene, they often get reduced to their most basic traits and will rigidly act according to them regardless of prior context or external factors. I call this phenomenon “Auto-pilot”. If you’ve read my Mail Call #3, this is what I think happened to Tsunami during the second arc—Tsunami’s basic traits are that she is bossy, emotional, and blunt, so she spends the entirety of her page time as a deep-sea-themed wrecking ball who yells at everyone and dismisses everything as “ugh, nightwing powers” and “Peril was bad in book 1 once, I hate her forever”, despite having other, more pressing matters to prioritize.

Whenever Moonwatcher gets set to auto-pilot, it is very depressing. She needs careful, attentive writing to shine, and whenever she doesn’t get it she turns from the most interesting character into a dull brick that recites exposition and occasionally exists to be fawned after by boys. Tragically, the auto-pilot hits her bad after Winter’s book is done, and she never manages to escape it afterwards, save for maybe one or two scenes. There is a particularly egregious example in book 10 that, in my opinion, does permanent, irreversible damage to her character. It’s all a bit soul-crushing if dwelt on.

So yeah, I like Moonwatcher. I really do. I just wish the strong way she was written could have carried through the entire arc.

Winter

CW: Parental abuse

I initially didn’t really know what to make of Winter when I read Moon’s book. He seemed kind of like a buttface who was needlessly hostile and unapproachable. But he really comes into his own in his book, and looking back at his earlier scenes with that new context makes it all make sense. He became one of my stand-out favorites after that.

Winter really has a lot in common with Turtle, so much so that I wish those two actually had some deeper interactions with each other. Like, at one point Turtle saves his life, you’d think they would want to talk about that some time. Where Turtle’s parents are one half malicious, one half incompetent, Winter’s are pure malice AND incompetence. Blessed with three children, they managed to completely ruin one of them, almost ruin the other, and then the third one is kind of out of focus so I don’t know how he is faring, but I doubt there is a lot of love there either.

In a way, you can draw a lot of parallels between Winter and Icicle, and Zuko and Azula from Avatar: The Last Airbender—The unfavorite who tries to do right but constantly fails to live up to his father’s/parents' warped standards, and the prodigy who seemingly has her father’s/parents' approval but secretly suffers from the abusive parenting just as much, but in different ways. Hailstorm then tries to take on the role of Iroh, an older figure that acts as a source of positivity and genuine love, and offers a reprieve from the abuse. But where Iroh is an adult drawing from a lifetime of wisdom, Hailstorm is just the slightly older sibling who comes from the same abusive household battling the same demons, so his effectiveness in countering the toxicity is limited.

Where Zuko pursues honor, Winter strives to be strong. Both his parents and his sister perceive him as weak and label him irrelevant. While this hurts him deeply, I don’t think Winter fully surrendered to his inferiority complex until he heard his brother mirror the same sentiment at him. Winter is repressed and struggles with processing his emotions—Thus he heard the words Hailstorm only said to save his life and took them at face value. Even the person he loves the most, the only source of affection and affirmation in his life, thinks he is weak. This is what drives Winter to feverishly desire strength and thus adopt a persona of the strongest thing he knows: a stoic Icewing warrior.

This is why he acts the way he does in book 6: aloof, threatening, unapproachable, invincible. But all of these traits are diametrically opposed to his actual personality, which is warm, compassionate, and just wanting to be loved for who he is. So whenever Moon reads his mind, he comes across as a confused mess of conflicting emotions. Because he is pretending to be something he isn’t.

The interesting thing here is that Winter actually is genuinely strong. He is just unable to recognize his own worth, due to the toxic way royal Icewings are raised, warping his perception of what strength means. When he meets Foeslayer, who is said to be an ancient enemy of his people, his mind cuts through the veneer of tradition and old bullshit justifications and sees her imprisonment for the cruel injustice that it is. He then undoes that injustice and frees her. It takes an incomprehensible amount of personal integrity and willpower to just casually defy the will of your entire country like that. This is equivalent to treason; by aiding her, Winter risks becoming an enemy of his people on par with Foeslayer herself. And he does it anyway, because it is the right thing to do.

This dissonance in his perception of strength with regards to his Icewing upbringing, and the actual strength he embodies and has embodied all this time, is something I would have liked to see explored more in the finale or something. As it stands now, he got pressured into putting his life on the line in the battle for Jade Mountain, has sworn loyalty to a people that mistreated him and tried to ruin him from a young age, and then got saddled with an existential nightmare of an ending that leaves me baffled to this day.

In terms of personal misfortune, he certainly is the Starflight of his group.

Qibli

CW: Parental abuse

Qibli is a very charming and versatile character. It is easy to imagine him in a variety of different situations and the scenes almost write themselves, especially when there’s another person with him whom he can bounce off of (figuratively, though I wouldn’t put it past him to try to literally bounce off of someone too). The 10th book posits him as some kind of parallel to Darkstalker; the latter even overtly states this and tries to recruit him as a manner of apprentice. It’s interesting because I think they are actually pretty different.

Qibli excels in situations where his options are limited. He is great at thinking on his feet and coming up with solutions to problems within a restricted framework. He'd be great in an escape room. This ability of his is shown throughout the arc, but it is especially visible in Moon Rising, where his presence in a scene often makes Moon stronger, or more adept at solving problems, because his mind is breaking down the situation for her in a way she would be unable to see on her own.

The twist then comes in when you take Qibli out of that limited framework, by giving him power. His pronounced intellect is very peculiar; it needs limitation to be brilliant. When he has unhindered access to all-powerful magic (i.e. doesn’t have to clear his ideas with another person), he turns into a colossal idiot who buries cities in sand and almost blows up inhabited mountains.

It only follows that, if you were to give Qibli what he wants and make him an animus, it would absolutely ruin him. The great intellect he cultivated would wither and, unshackled from the limitations that forced him to think critically and be his most excellent self, he would end up destroying himself, and likely others too.

Another interesting facet of Qibli is how he works as a parallel to Winter and Turtle (and Peril to an extent). All of these characters come from broken homes and have suffered under abusive parental figures. Qibli’s case in particular is interesting because it showcases how your circumstances can make a difference in how well you handle that issue. Qibli suffered under a tyrannical mother and a pair of cruel siblings, but in contrast to his peers, someone from the outside noticed his suffering was able to intervene—Thorn saved him from his hell and became his rescue parent, restoring his confidence and sense of self-worth.

Because of this, when his turn comes to confront his demons, while it is still difficult and painful (because trauma always is), he is able to navigate the confrontation with comparatively more grace and control than the others. The contrast really shows how difficult it is to escape a toxic relationship if you are still mired deeply within it, and how you need to put some distance between yourself and it before you can see where you are and what needs to be done with improved clarity. That is the path to healing.

I could probably keep talking about Qibli for 15 more paragraphs, but I’ll spare you.

Kinkajou

Every protagonist (and a good deal of side characters) in Wings of Fire is broken, usually has some kind of gut-wrenching past (often due to terrible parents), and struggles to find their place in the world. Luckily here is a pink-and-yellow Rainwing who is just happy and everything is fantastic and wholesome, right?

CW: Forced starvation

Nah, Kinkajou had it pretty rough too. The story plays it like it’s a humorous quip when she finds out Moonwatcher is her roommate and bemoans that nobody is taking her “trauma” seriously, but... yeah, it actually is legitimate trauma. She was captured, bound, and trapped on a hell island without sunlight for several weeks. While there, she was not fed, and she helplessly watched people whom she knew from early childhood starve and die. Death by starvation is not pretty, she likely had to witness her friends slowly being driven mad by hunger until they withered away, and couldn’t do anything about it. Then she was rescued and returned to a home that didn’t believe her pain was real, that claimed she made it up for attention, and that some people who she thought of as friends didn’t even notice she was gone. The only one who believed her was a stranger whom she had met maybe a few hours ago.

Personally, if that happened to me and I came home to that, I’d likely have pulled a Chameleon and said “Screw the Rainwings, I’m moving to the desert.”

That Kinkajou is still able to be positive and full of energy after that is a testament to her immense mental fortitude. She might actually be one of the most stable and resilient characters in the story. Some things shake her up for a bit, but nothing can crush her.

Still, I imagine there are some times, after a really bad day maybe, where she wakes up in the middle of the night. And there, for just a moment, she is scared to open her eyes... because she might be back on the Nightwing island and has to watch someone else die.

Peril

Peril is a bit of an odd case in arc 2. She gets grouped with the protagonists of that arc and the ending implies she is integrated into the Jade Winglet as their new Skywing. I have no real problem with that, in fact it’s good on her that she’s made a little less isolated. But to me, Peril always felt like an awkward appendix to that group. Her only real friend in there is Turtle; for the rest of them they feel more like vague acquaintances, like she's tolerated for being Turtle's friend.

To be fair though, that friendship with Turtle is really strong; it’s an exciting and deep character dynamic. But if I was forced to tie Peril to a group of protagonists, my first instinct would be to associate her with the first arc protagonists instead.

This poor girl has been through it. Everyone seems to hate her and wants her to leave, sometimes for understandable reasons and sometimes it just seems bizarre. I already went into Tsunami’s disdain for her in an earlier post, but I also vaguely remember a point in Escaping Peril where she meets Qibli and he gives her a withering glare for some reason. That confused me, to be honest. I thought “What’s YOUR problem with her? Have you ever even met??” Like, I guess the Outclaws were in direct conflict with Burn since they lived in the same country, and Peril was an infamous elite combatant under the command of one of Burn’s allies, so maybe Peril killed people he knew? But then he gets over his disdain really quickly and with no comment, so whatever happened can’t have been a big deal after all.

My favorite part in her book is when everyone--after having learned about Turtle’s powers--chews him out for not having helped his country during the war, and Peril cuts through the tripe by saying something along the lines of “So if he uses the power he was born with to serve his Queen it is honorable, but when I do the same for my Queen I’m a murderer and deserve to have things thrown at me?” I love all of these guys, but they really deserved to be called out for their double standard and feel stupid for a bit.

But yeah, I really enjoy her friendship with Turtle in the end. And since he accidentally made himself virtually indestructible, it means Peril can now get all the friendly hugs she craves.

Umber

Umber is cool. He has a potentially interesting relationship with Turtle, which is implied in the latter’s book when it is mentioned that they sleep with their backs touching to comfort each other about their respective siblings not being there.

Unfortunately he gets written out of the story arc very quickly. I wish I knew more about him.

Carnelian

I like Carnelian. I feel like she had a lot of potential that gets wasted by her death, for not much gain. It is used to give Queen Ruby a reason to come to Jade Mountain and kickstart the events of Peril’s book, but the same could have been accomplished by having her learn that the Academy is housing Peril and going there to demand the extradition of a (in her eyes) dangerous and murderous fugitive.

Same as with Umber, really, I wish I knew more about her. I already said this during my Smaugust drawing session, but I like to pretend that she and Bigtail didn’t die, and instead had a mini arc about recovering from their injuries. It also has the side effect of averting some very unfortunate implications that come with Bigtail’s death.

~~~

I think that’s all of them. Good lord I talk too much. Please don’t throw crocodiles at my face for it. Tumblr is my queen, and--much like the Queen's former champion--I was made to do it.

[clementineofmine]

I'm sitting here rewatching Tua S3 for reasons, and one interesting thing I picked up is that the entire season is really just each of the Umbrellas struggling to define and searching for family in their own way. Here's me laying down some thoughts for y'all:

Luther - For him, family has always been about the team. That's part of the reason he's so drawn to the Sparrows, bc at first they seem to have the cohesiveness that the Umbrellas lacked. Remember, Luther was the last one left at the Academy, then Reginald sent him to the moon alone. So of course seeing a "functional" team is going to be compelling for him, and he desperately wants to be part of it. And then he and Sloane quickly fall in love and for the first time in his entire life, someone wants him for him. It's intoxicating and utterly consuming NRE that is more powerful than anything he's ever felt.

Diego and Lila - For these two, it's about figuring out how to be a family. Both together, but also a little bit with the other Umbrellas. Diego looking out for Allison and Klaus and Lila and Five coming to a truce are part of this - more about Lila and Five in a sec.

Allison - In her mind, her family is Claire and Ray. This one is obvious, but I also think that the writers did us a disservice by not letting us into Allison's perspective. If you think about it, it's completely normal for a parent to put their child above all. While I don't defend her actions, her motivation could have been more compelling and it would have strengthened her character. But sadly she's the character on the show that is most "othered" (which is bad for many reasons)

Klaus - he really dug deep into individual relationships w family, starting with Five (e2 and 5 Five and Klaus bonding are still some of the best bits of the season imo), Diego, Reginald, Sparrow Ben, and then Luther in the afterlife.

Five - Five remains a pragmatist. His bar for family is very low - success for him means the Umbrellas being alive, no matter what the personal cost or sacrifice to him or to some extent others. It is somewhat depressingly delightful to see how he makes his peace with the end of the world as the season progresses. Before that, however, I'd like to meander back to e3 and 4 where Lila convinces him to electrocute himself and then they go on the Commission mission. Both of the actors do a fine job here bouncing back and forth between witty banter and genuine emotion and I love it. It's a quick and subtle piece of dialogue when Five explains how he saved Lila from the Handler. The undertone is that they were both abused by that woman in a similar way - ultimately, she developed and kept them both as pawns in her own game. And I think Five, starting in S2E10 and fleshed out through S3, develops genuine empathy for and eventually acceptance of Lila as family, as one of them, because of this shared experience.

Viktor - Like Viktor in all seasons, he continues to feel out of place with the Umbrellas and compensates by over-prioritizing his relationships with others. Don't get me wrong, I do empathize with him that he lost real love with Sissy and Halan, but I also think Allison was 100% valid to call him out on his lying in E6, and it was on point to verbalize how the constant focus on Viktors pain minimizes her (and everyone else's) experience. (Edit to add: Viktor finally seems to get the message on this, after being called out by Allison, then subsequently both Sparrow Ben and Five, and spends the last few episodes trying to make amends. Real character development here and I like to see it)

Reginald - Well, his overarching motivation since S1 has always been bringing back his dead wife, so I won't belabor that, but also it's interesting to see how he interacted with Klaus particularly - esp in E7 when he sobers up it seems he is experimenting with remembering his role as a father. Now we don't get a ton about his internal motivation here, but you can tell there is some mild curiosity, if not affection, for Klaus, despite the fact that he ultimately is cool with sacrificing him.

Some of these are more obvious than others, but when you tie them all together, the idea that they are all desperately looking for family and the blind spots that that creates for them, some of the messiness of S3 starts to make a bit more sense.

[official-cvntified-gay]

Hi, I'm new to this, I was wondering if you could make a Larissa × reader. where the reader is a married mother and her daughter attends Nevermore and Larissa falls in love with her one day she summons her to her office with the excuse of talking about the reader's daughter but it will all end in something obscene? although at first the reader resists.

You can make Larissa G!P or not, it's your decision, I'm sorry if something is not understood, English is not my main language😭

CLOSE masterlist

pairing: larissa weems x fem! reader

warnings: infidelity, smut

wc: 1300+

note: sorry anon this took way too long, life got in the way, do hope you enjoy this<3

❝How dare you assume I would accept something like that!❞

❝Well... the way you clench your pretty thighs said so.❞

Your heels clanked as you walked through the quad of Nevermore, its familiarity seeping into your mind, reminiscing about your time there. You had a soft little smile as your eyes examined the changes of the academy.

Your eyes lit up as you saw an old friend, your smile widening as you were about to walk to her when a rough hand on your waist stopped you. "This way," your husband said, not even waiting until you got a word out of your mouth before he was leading you toward the direction of the Principal’s office. You winced as you felt his calloused hand caress your skin against the fabric of your dress. You kept up appearances, knowing you had a reputation to uphold. You smiled at the other mothers who were trying to get on your good side, aware of your influence. Even after all these years, you still had to pretend for your parents’ sake.

"Please take your arm off me," you whispered with your practiced smile still etched on your face. He gave you a sharp glare, and you backed down, knowing this would end in an argument.

The office was grand, much like you remembered it from your own days at Nevermore. Principal Larissa Weems greeted you with her usual poised elegance, her tall frame commanding the room with ease. Her blue eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and admiration, a glint of something unspoken that sent a shiver down your spine as they lingered on you.

After a formal exchange about your daughter’s progress, Larissa’s gaze occasionally flicked toward you, her focus lingering a little too long on the way you crossed your legs or the softness in your voice. She addressed both you and your husband with politeness, but there was an undeniable tension in the room. You noticed the way her lips curled slightly whenever you spoke, as though she were holding back something unsaid.

When the meeting concluded, she rose to shake your husband’s hand, her expression neutral. But when she turned to you, her touch lingered a second longer than necessary, her eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

Over the following weeks, your paths crossed with Larissa more often. Whether it was at school events or casual encounters in town, she always found a reason to speak to you. Her comments were never overt, but there was a warmth and familiarity in her tone that left you unsettled—and intrigued.

It was during one such meeting, at a parent-teacher gathering, that she leaned in closer than necessary, her voice low as she said, "You look stunning tonight." The words sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time in years, you felt truly seen.

When the next parent conference day came, you made the decision to attend without your husband. It wasn’t a deliberate act of defiance—it was simply easier that way, or so you told yourself. Yet, as you walked into Larissa’s office alone, you couldn’t ignore the flutter of anticipation in your chest.

She greeted you with a smile, her gaze softer than before but no less intense. As you discussed your daughter, the conversation gradually shifted, the professional tone giving way to something more personal.

"You’re an incredible mother," she said, her voice warm. "But I can’t help but wonder... do you ever take time for yourself?"

You hesitated, her words cutting deeper than you expected. "I—It’s complicated."

Larissa leaned back against her desk, studying you. "Is it? Or have you simply convinced yourself that it has to be?"

Her words stung, and you felt your defences rise. "How dare you assume I would accept something like that!" you snapped, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and vulnerability. A hint of denial washing through you even though from miles away anyone can see it.

Larissa’s lips curled into a knowing smile. "Well... the way you clench your pretty thighs said so."

Your breath hitched, her audacity leaving you momentarily speechless. The air between you crackled with tension, and for the first time, you didn’t move to deny the truth in her words.

"Larissa," you began, your voice faltering, "this isn’t... I’m married."

"To a man who doesn’t deserve you," she countered, stepping closer. "You deserve to be loved, cherished, wanted. And I see you, every part of you that you try so hard to hide. Let me show you what it feels like to be truly seen."

Her words unraveled something inside you, years of pretending and suppressing your own desires crashing down all at once. When her lips met yours, you didn’t pull away. The kiss was slow and deliberate, her hands cupping your face as if you were something precious.

Her lips moved against yours with a patience that unraveled your control. She guided you gently toward the couch, her hands exploring your waist and back with reverence. The soft rustle of fabric and the warmth of her body against yours sent a thrill through you, making it impossible to deny how deeply you wanted this.

"Tell me to stop," she murmured against your lips, her voice thick with restraint. Her blue eyes searched yours, giving you one final moment to back away.

But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned into her, a silent plea escaping your lips as her arms enveloped you.

Larissa’s hands slid up your sides, her touch igniting every nerve ending. Her lips trailed along your jawline, leaving a fiery path that melted away every hesitation. The way she whispered your name made you feel like the center of her universe, each syllable dripping with longing and adoration.

Her fingers grazed the sensitive skin of your arms before tangling in your hair. She kissed you deeply, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she wanted to memorize every curve and contour. You responded in kind, your hands finding their way to her shoulders, then her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between you.

"You’re so beautiful," she breathed, her words sending a shiver down your spine. She pressed gentle kisses to your collarbone, her touch both reverent and electric. Her movements were unhurried, as though she wanted to savor every moment, every reaction.

Your breaths mingled as the room filled with the quiet hum of your shared passion. Time seemed to stand still, the outside world fading away until only the two of you remained. Her touch, her scent, her warmth—they consumed you entirely.

Her hands moved lower, sliding under the fabric of your dress, and you didn’t hesitate. You allowed her to pull you closer, to feel every inch of her against you. You felt every press of her body, the heat between you building with each passing moment, each movement. It was overwhelming, intoxicating.

"I want you," Larissa whispered, her voice thick with desire, her hands roaming your body with a sense of urgency, as though time was running out and she needed to savor every moment.

You responded in kind, your hands pressing against her back, pulling her closer as you lost yourself in the sensation of her body moving against yours. The way she kissed you, touched you, made you feel like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, was intoxicating. It was everything you had been searching for, everything you had been missing. The warmth, the passion, the freedom to finally let go.

When your bodies finally intertwined, when you were both gasping for breath, tangled together in the aftermath of your shared release, you realized something profound: you had let go of more than just the moment. You had let go of the years of fear, of pretending to be someone you were not. In her arms, you found the freedom to be yourself—raw, real, and completely alive.

As you lay there, wrapped in her arms, the weight of it all settled over you. “I can’t keep living like this,” you whispered, the words heavy with meaning.

Larissa’s arms tightened around you, her voice steady as she replied, “Then don’t. You don’t have to.”

And for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to believe it. There was hope now—hope for a future where you didn’t have to hide anymore, where you could finally be free.

[cherryheairt]

The Weight of Us

Viktor x reader

set in pre Act 1

Thanks anon ily 🩷

No desc, given a last name for 'House', fMC

part 1 of a series?

kind of an au? only because the academy is now a college that offers more than science studies/majors everything is normal otherwise

Even after hailing from Piltover, you'd never truly been accepted by its people. House Roycen had been an established and renowned house since its founders helped to build Piltover to what it is now. Ernesto Roycen, its founder and 'father', had been one of the leaders during the pillage to the sister cities, firm in his belief that magic was unnatural and should have no place in this world.

You, however, had always been fascinated by the unnatural. In your eyes, magic was another part of nature, though it was shunned by the 'people of progress' in Piltover. You spent rainy days locked away in your chambers, tinkering away at the latest interest that caught your younger self's eye. Although there was no magic to learn about or practice, the fascinating world of craft and gadgetry indulged your curious mind perfectly.

You made moving little wind-up ducks from reading of the inner workings of mechas. You decorated your room with twinkling stars that were charged by the sunlight pouring in during the day. A hundred other, unfortunately small, creations were made throughout your youthful years of secret rebellion. While keeping these all a secret, you had to be creative to make your own goggles, which had multiple settings to see the tiniest details of gears and clogs. All 'inventions' were hidden beneath bedframes and in drawers the moment footsteps were heard echoing throughout the empty halls.

Your father, a man who took pride in his work and could find no love in his heart for anything else, did not visit the estate often. Most of the time, he stayed in a townhouse near the center of the city to breeze to and fro as he needed. Your mother, holding a place on the council like her ancestor did, visited only slightly more than he. Meetings were few far and between in the council, and unpredictable at that. She stayed at the estate and took a carriage to the inner city every time a letter arrived to summon her. You grew used to days without word nor sight or either parent.

Instead, this hole was filled by Claus Kosphere, the Roycen estate's head butler. The elderly man had worked for your family long before you were born. And though he seemed stern and unfeeling when you were a child, you quickly learned that the man raised and cared for you in every way that a true parent could.

You also learned of his daughter along the way. A bright young girl who spent her final years bedridden in a hospital. Claus took the loss with the most grace a father could bare and instead poured his knowledge into you. He curated your secret education of technology when your parents were away, and though you both knew you could never do anything with it, you were more than happy to at least learn of it.

Neither parents spent much time with you. When at home, they were in their studies. During meals, the main topic of discussion was how your tutoring sessions went that morning. Due to your father's anxieties about public or private schooling not being able to attend to you personally enough, all of your studies were done from your home. Every day, three people deemed worthy enough to teach would visit like clockwork and run you through the lessons. You never bothered to pay much attention to them or their teachings. Every day was boring and dull.

Every lesson had been learned years ago through independent reading. Every new chord the pianist struck was like a dull ring in your ears as you imitated it. Every history and English lesson was completed within minutes. Upon seeing the rare mind you possessed and aptitude for learning, your teachers suggested an acceleration in your studies.

Geography, economics, and political science exercises beyond what an average teenager was fathoming in Piltover, all breezed through with ease. College was clearly the next step, and although you saw it as the perfect opportunity to find your wings and use the independence to begin the studies you wanted—your parents decided to perfectly curate your entire schedule for you instead. The subjects that you truly had interest in, including maths, scientific discoveries, engineering, or anything related, were all but forgotten to your parents. As if they didn't exist or had extremely little importance to them—they had no place in your education. What use did a political figure have with the menial details like those? In the words of your father, those jobs were filled by the faceless nobodies of society.

Nerves and excitement ran through you on that first day. You'd never attended a standard school like most of the students—and were thus set behind them in terms of social norms and connections. Everyone knew you as the heir to House Roycen, but none knew you.

The excitement quickly gave way to humiliation. Every attempt to form a friendship was shot down, and quickly, you realized how cruel people were to those seen as strange. No lesson or book could prepare you for the reality of privileged young people who had nothing better to do with their time than gossip. You spent your first years entirely alone, only accompanied by professors and servants. In your commutes to and from home, the window of the carriage could only serve you more grief as the passing picture showed carefree, perfect families.

You could not leave Piltover and start fresh, not anywhere that you would be undiscovered. Your parents would surely track you down and strap you to a chair if need be. Nowhere in Runeterra would offer you anything better than what Piltover did.

Whispers of you already being groomed for the position of Councilor were up in the air, not at all helped by the fact that your mother occasionally brought you along on days off to shadow her during meetings. You had no true days off anymore. No rainy days huddled away in your room when an instructor could not make the trip in the downpour. Your trinkets sat abandoned and dusty in the coldest parts of your room.

When your father passed away, the steadiness in your own mind tormented you more than the loss itself. How could you not mourn your own father's death? On one hand, the man had spent more time away from you than anything else. You were barely more than acquainted in all ways that mattered. The most he spoke to you were scoldings for your apparent laziness and unfocused mind. On the other hand, that was the man who had a big part in housing and feeding you your entire life. In the back of your mind, you briefly thought that he seemed more like a sponsor than a parent. For months, the thoughts that something was truly wrong with you, either in the head or the heart, plagued you.

Solitude became your blanket of security and familiarity.

The sole heir to the Roycen House, born two hundred years after the founding of it, you were meant to carry the torch just like all the ancestors before. Expected to attend Piltover's finest university for political science and law, and eventually 'earn' your place on the council, though no Roycen ever truly did and only ever got there through connection. You had the world on your shoulders.

🪞

When Viktor thought of native Piltovians, he admitted he had a prejudiced way of thinking. His first impressions with the majority had been less than satisfactory to say the least. When meeting in business terms, sent by Heimerdinger, those who knew the Dean knew that his assistant was 'Undercity born' and thus did not greet him with the same standards they greeted those deemed equal.

Those who didn't know him, like baristas at the local cafe or librarians writing out his books as 'checked out', did not treat him any specific way. Sure, they often eyed his cane and scrawny figure, but a fleeting moment of judgment had been something Viktor long grew out of caring about.

This was his life for years, during his time in university and after graduation when his job was being an assistant. A high-end job, compared to what 99% of the Undercity's offers, and one he could not complain about. He was paid well, treated fairly by the Dean, and provided housing near the office Heimerdinger presided in. He could not complain, no, but he could not find it in him to be content either.

When he was given the opportunity to be something more than the Undercity could ever allow him to be, he was both grateful and eager to improve the lives of his kin and people.

It had been years since he was so bright-eyed.

Life had gained a monotone routine. He was safe in the city, didn't have to worry about keeping his head down or pissing off the wrong folk, but he lived the same day every day.

Write letters for Heimerdinger.

Deliver packages for Heimerdinger.

Stand in at meetings for Heimerdinger.

Take notes in council meetings for Heimerdinger.

Eat, sleep, repeat.

His mind had not been challenged since his school days. He had not built anything since senior class. Viktor itched to do more. To be more.

For now, he stuck to his routine. Raising a dexterous hand to knock on a freshly polished door, his eye was caught by the symbol adorning its iron knocker. An ornate yet softly elegant thing, one that he would personally consider too gaudy to decorate his home with, but fit the rich and lavishness of Piltovian homes. It was a peacock, surrounded by a wreath of striking white and black anemonies. Taking it in his hand, Viktor felt like he was almost committing a crime by sullying such an expensive piece of artwork. He knocked twice, clear and curt.

Tucked under his elbow was a small brown package for the recipient from Heimerdinger himself, who muttered his apologies that he could not personally deliver a birthday gift.

"Humans celebrate birthdays so often that it feels like I'm spending more time planning gifts and letters of congratulations than working. Would you deliver this one for me, my dear boy?" The yordle asked as he scurried around.

Viktor was quite envious at times of his immortality. He didn't have to celebrate birthdays like it may be his last. He barely even counted the years he'd been alive. Viktor considered himself lucky to make it to adulthood.

He nearly flinched as the door swung open. An older man, adorned in a pristine black and white suit, raised a brow at the younger man. "State your business, young man." He spoke finely.

Lifting the simple package, Viktor replied: "A gift for Miss Delarose Roycen."

The older relaxed. Nodding, he bowed slightly as he opened the door wider for Viktor to enter. "Come this way, sir."

Viktor almost groaned at the invitation. He had hoped the gift might be taken, and he'd be promptly dismissed like he usually was. He'd never be that lucky, he supposed. Sitting in the foyer awkwardly, Viktor fiddled with the thin twine holding the paper together in a neat bow. The inside of the house perfectly matched the outside. Gold, black, and white seemed to blend together in arrays of wealthy display. Any smudges on the white leather had him praying that he wouldn't be sent a bill that cost more than his entire apartment.

The Roycen family was one he had only observed from afar til now. Delarose Roycen sat within the council at every meeting while Viktor stood in the 'peanut gallery' and jotted down any important notes for Heimerdinger (which was almost never). The lady was an intimidating picture of elegance and traditional values. Though her husband passed fairly recently, she held her head high and never faultered publicly.

While waiting, Viktor took time to inspect the room. It seemed void of any personal attachments like portraits, trophys, or certificates. All but one, which had be to over ten feet tall and five wide hanging over the mantle. A simple and impersonal work of art, displaying two firm-faced adults and a youthful woman. Pretty was an afterthought compared to the strikingly detached look on her face. Her eyes held a faraway look that plainly stated she'd rather be anywhere but in that room and posing for a photo.

He almost rolled his eyes at the notion. A spoilt rotten young lady like a Roycen must be painfully unaware of those in the Undercity who would give their lives to be bored and safe.

We all want what we do not have. He reminded himself as he shifted in his place. And right now, he wanted to end his afternoon by heading home and indulging himself in his newest library find, Armature Winding and Motor Repair.

When a door clicked open, the man in black revealed himself again. This time, followed by the young miss from the painting. "Missus Delarose is occupied in the moment. The young Mistress will keep you company while Lady Roycen finishes up." He bowed out and left behind a swinging door on the other side of the room, presumably to the kitchens for refreshments.

Now that he saw her in person and not just by the painting, he recognized her. The girl had flitted around campus when he attended, a mousy thing that seemed to float around groups instead of within them. After he graduated, he had also seen her a few times in the council room itself. Now, he finally had a name to the face. For years, he thought that she was just another assistant, perhaps to Cassandra Kiramman or Delarose Roycen as they preferred having women assistants that he acquainted himself with. Mel Merdarda did the same, and Viktor attuned it to women trusting other women easier. The resemblance had slipped past his head before, but now it was clearer.

The young lady looked exactly how Viktor felt. The silence was thick in the air as she sat stiffly on the couch, looking a stranger in her home as much as he did. "I can leave it here. The package—I mean. It is only a gift from Heimerdinger."

The woman was quiet for a few ticks in front of him, opening her mouth a few times to begin but closing it just as fast. Eventually, she shook her head. "Claus will be unhappy that I could not entertain a guest for a mere few minutes. Please, just stay until you've had tea."

"Claus?" Viktor asked, looking towards the kitchens to confirm.

She hummed affirmatively, biting the inside of her cheek. "Our butler. He likes to keep everything orderly. No unsatisfied people, you know?" She shrugged, finding her perfectly manicured nailbeds more interesting than looking Viktor in the eye. Uninterested wholely, or just feeling disrespected that a Zaunite was in her home and on her furniture.

"I understand." He trailed curtly. Claus strided back in with a silver tray of tea and small edibles. Placing it on the coffee table, he promptly poured Viktor's tea first.

"I hope earl grey is suitable to your tastes, sir." He said, moving to pour the woman's next. She immediately dumped a concerning amount of sugar cubes into the steaming liquid, finishing it off with sweet cream that lightened it to a milky color. Viktor raised a brow, and thanked the butler for the generous display.

He placed a few sugar cubes and a splash of milk in, stirring idly as he watched the clock with a sharp eye. He, of course, preferred his beverages sweet as can be too, but some hesitation kept him from wanting to be 'unseemly' in front of the councilor's daughter.

Claus tapped her back once, immediately making her sit straight up, back not even grazing the couch and still having picture-perfect posture. Viktor hadn't even noticed her slouching in the first place. She didn't, either, from the brief annoyed scowl he spotted cross her face. Or perhaps she did and was trying to get away with it.

"How is Professor Heimerdinger, these days?" Claus asked with a genial but tight smile.

"He's...Heimerdinger." Viktor answered lamely, lifting the package as if that said everything for him. "Always running around trying to be in a hundred places at once."

The man smiled, more gently now. "I see. It's been a few years since I've seen him. I can't imagine he remembers much of me, though, with how many people he's met in that grand lifespan of his." Claus folded his gloved hands behind his back from his place behind the young lady. She was tense in her seat under the watchful eye, perhaps even more so than Viktor was. The pastries went untouched by both parties.

"You were colleagues?" Viktor asked.

He nodded. "Once, for a few years after my time in university. More like his pupil, to be honest. He saw my plans for the Undercity to be given water cleansing and filtration throughout the city. We started collaboration on making it a reality, and he was willing to sponsor the entire idea—but life got in the way, and now I'm not even sure the blueprints are around anymore."

Viktor was surprised at the revelation. A Piltover citizen working to improve the lives of Zaunites as a whole? Water and air pollution was one of the Undercity's top problems. Most of the population gained major health problems from having no choice but to consume both—himself included.

"How long ago was this?"

"It's been over forty years now since I started working for the Roycens. So, forty years since the project was abandoned."

Forty?

Heimerdinger had left a life-changing project to collect dust in a file cabinet for forty years? Longer than Viktor had lived. His parents could have benefited from filtration systems in their homes, would maybe even be alive to this day if sickness hadn't caught them first.

"I see." Was all he could muster. "Pardon me asking this, but if you were working on such a prestigious project with a sponsor, then why are you working here?"

The Roycen's eyes finally shot up to meet his. Guilt and grief lay in her faraway expression. Sipping her lukewarm tea, she quickly hid half of her face from his observation.

Claus never faultered. In Viktor's experience, those who have lived longer lives often had little qualms about sharing details of their past, whether they were good or bad. "I quit my work with Heimerdinger to cover expenses for my daughter. Her medical bills were quite high at the time, much more than what I was afforded back then. I was alloted housing, food, and everything needed for my work to come to life, but nothing extra for personal expenses."

He lived to work and nothing else. Much like most of Viktor's former peers who went off to their intended fields of work. With such time-consuming jobs, there was no room for the luxuries of pleasure. Even as an assistant, Viktor had no time to do anything but work. Every morning, at dawn, he reminded himself that he was doing this for a brighter future and better opportunities. After all, who wouldn't want to hire a direct pupil of Cecil Heimerdinger?

"And you never went back?"

"I found something that needed me more than those dusty old blueprints." Claus glanced down to the head of hair on the couch below him, who seemed to sink further into it at the implication. "Anyone can continue my previous work in the Undercity. But no one could have replaced me here."

It clicked in his mind very easily. Claus took care of the Roycen girl since the day she was born. Wealthy parents never truly raised their kids, but their staff often presented a replacement for that affection and care lost in empty halls. But, his own daughter? The medical bills in Piltover were extreme for those not born to generational wealth like House families were. For the common folk of Piltover, still rich compared to the average Zaunite, one might drown in debt.

Viktor was lucky enough to have the mind able to accommodate his own disability. He made new canes throughout his childhood every time he grew out of the old. Recently, he made his own leg brace that lies beneath his uniformed slacks—something that helps tremendously. Being able to help himself was a blessing—he was fortunate not to have an abundance of medications to buy monthly.

If not debt, then death. Seeing as Claus had taken such a fatherly role in this woman's life, it was easy to assume he had eventually lost his own. Perhaps they needed each other.

Viktor couldn't feel too much for the loveless children of Piltover. While their parents were hardly around and their educators were their baselines for raising themselves up as respectable citizens, they still grew up in lavish homes with plentiful food and abundant health. The Roycen girl might feel guilty for 'stealing' a genius' future away from him, he knew that it wouldn't change the reality. Emotions held little value unless they were acted upon.

Heels clicking interrupted the silence between the three. Viktor's eyes followed the graceful figure of Delarose Roycen as she strided into the room. Much like the symbol of her house, she held the poise of a peacock and the colors to match. With her curly black hair surrounding her head like a dark halo, eyes as sharp as they were intelligent, her pant suit the shimmering iridescence colors of deep blue, green, and yellow, the councilor was more than intimidating. Always listening more than she spoke during meetings, Delarose seemed to keep tabs on everyone around her for future reference.

One time, Viktor recalled her not saying a single word during a heating debate on the stationary tariffs rising in Piltover. He watched on as her dark gaze turned this way and that to follow along with the few that were discussing the tariffs with little care for their decorum around fellow councilors. When the meeting wrapped up, she simply excused herself and walked right out of the open doors. The very next meeting a week later, she began the discussion without so much as a note card. The councilors were silent as they listened to her bring forth the solution for the imported goods. The little country of Lospine, which resided between Piltover the New and Noxus up in the rocky mountains, would accept an influx of Piltover's rich fruits for their plentiful coffers of ink. With the matter settled, the tariffs returned back to their regular price and have not fluctuated since.

Delarose was the type of person Viktor admired. Certainly the easier choice over ones like Salo and Hoskel, who spoke just to hear their own voices prevail. Though, the admiration was done from afar, in Viktor's place with the other assistants. The last thing he wanted was her keen eyes seeing more than he was willing to tell.

"Viktor." She greeted with a plain face. He was more than just surprised to know that she knew his name. "Here on behalf of Heimerdinger, I assume?" Amusement laced her tone. She did not apologize for her tardiness in her own home.

He stood from his seat, feeling a strange urge to bow his head like a peasent greeting their king. "Councilor Roycen, I have a package from Heimerdinger. Along with his hopes that your birthday went well." He managed, throat suddenly feeling dry.

Across from him, the girl eyed him from her seat. She did not stand to greet her mother or even glance her way. Setting down her empty cup, her eyes set on Viktor in a way most opposite to her mother's. Her gaze was curious and soft, not at all scrutinizing or judgemental like her peers in the university.

She nodded once with a finality. "Send him my thanks." Taking the parcel, she left the room with no other regards. Viktor was momentarily stunned. All this waiting and awkwardness for her to appear for a mere second? Claus might as well have taken it from him at the door. The wealthy's ways of life never failed to bemuse him.

The girl took a moment of waiting for the heel clicks to retreat before laughing. The sound was quiet and almost muted but clear to Viktor's keen senses. After a moment of chuckling to herself, she stood gracelessly and almost seemed giddy. "You've lived in Piltover for how many years and you can't hide your expressions still?" She asked, a gleam in her eye.

Viktor was taken aback by her bluntness. He had grown accustomed to holding his tongue to save trouble, but his honesty came through on his face more often than not. A trait given to him by his mother. "What do you mean?" He played dumb.

"If looks could kill, my mother wouldn't have made it five feet from the couch." She glanced to Claus, who had a frankly unamused look on his face. "Watch out, maybe she'll put a curse on you for looking at her the wrong way."

He smiled slightly despite himself. Councilor Roycen had certainly looked like she could put a spell or curse on him—but luckily for him, she was too busy for such hobbies. "I didn't mean to callous. I only mourn the time wasted."

"Am I horrible company?"

Kissing his teeth, Viktor cringed at the offense. Turning to defend himself, he was met with a playful grin from the woman instead. Sighing, he shook his head half with relief and half with exasperation. The whole family were eccentrics.

"I'll see you at the council meeting next week, I presume, miss Roycen." He dipped his head a bit and ambled towards the door. The late hours of the afternoon showed the golden hour's light through stained glass, leaving the room pleasently lit. He thought for a moment what a nice and quiet place this would be to work in, especially compared to his current cramped office filled with artificial light and thin walls.

Claus moved like a ghost to open the door for Viktor. "Have a nice evening, sir."

Sir. What a joke.

🪞

The next time you saw the lanky man with the pretty face and intriguing accent was exactly a week later. The first official meeting on your mother's birthday had been awkward at best and offensive at worst. You feared that he left the house feeling insulted from your mother, as most did but kept quiet about, and from your comment about his honest face.

But, time had to pass anyway. You were far from dwelling on the past like you used to, especially with how fast-paced lift became in college. It was your third year, and balancing life, shadowing meetings, and school work became harder and harder yet.

The students didn't make it any easier.

Since your first year, being ostracized was your new norm. 'The spoilt nepo baby' was who you were known to be, even to those with the same favoritism provided for them on a silver spoon. Hundreds of nepo babies attended the college—your mother just happened to be above their's.

Your current misfortune lied within your class, History of Piltover: The New and Old. Specifically, Gideon Bamford. Your professor assigned partners at the beginning of the semester for final projects, the very one worth 50% of your grade. Gideon had apparently made it his life's goal to make your own a living nightmare in the little time you spent together in class and out.

"I can just retake the class next semester. But will the council want someone who failed something as simple as a history class on their ranks?" He had sneered during their first study session in the library. While he sat back doing absolutely nothing, her attempts at getting things done alone were futile as he distracted her or ripped up papers as soon as they were filled.

After three weeks straight of dealing with him and complaining to your professor to no avail, the final solution was to go straight to the Dean.

Your only problem? Finding the guy.

Heimerdinger was famously elusive to those needing to meet with him. Whether this was intentional or not was still up to debate. Heimerdinger had a way of showing himself only when things caught his interest, not the other way around.

Viktor was your closest and fastest shot to schedule a meeting. During the meetings, Heimerdinger was always in attendance at the head of the council, but he made a point to scurry out of the room right as the doors opened. You had zero chance of stopping him with a yell and physically attempting to would be seen as hostile by the guards. You couldn't even imagine being so uncouth in front of your mother, let alone the entire council of Piltover. So, while you had the chance to stand alongside Viktor, you had to seize it. There were only a few weeks left before the final project's deadline was here.

Truthfully, you hadn't noticed him much before. He blended into the crowd seamlessly, with a practiced ease that suited his cool demeanor. Everyone knew he was Heimerdinger's assistant but not much else. Though that ignorance made you feel slightly guilty, you had a suspicion that he didn't bother to get to know the other assistants of the councilors either.

You, for one, disliked quite a few of them. All except for Viktor and Elora. Mel Merdarda's assistant had been working for her since before you started attending the meetings. It was easy to assume she'd been working for the Noxian for many years, considering how close the two were compared to the other boss-assistant relationships.

The other councilors did not have more than a symbiotic relationship. They pay the assistants: the assistants do their bare minimum work. Simple and straightforward. Though their attitudes left much to be desired.

Salo and Hoskel's assistants, Benny and Gasper respectively, were almost snobby and dim as their bosses. Shoola's singular secretary, Ponk, was sharp but did not speak a word nor try to communicate with others. Cassandra had two assistants, Siam and Dina, who tailed behind her everywhere, women of course (as the Kiramman matriarchs usually staffed), who were both friendly but tight as theives. Bolbok, the ever-mysterious figure, had no such attendents who were involved in meetings.

You had never spoken directly to any of them. Most of them either regarded you as a ghost in the corner of the room or the Roycen girl who had no place anywhere near them. Either way, it made things easier for you to be ignored rather than called out.

Sighing softly, you shifted in place at the edge of the group. Never fully involved in it, you tended to stay near the back and observe the entire room, assistants and guards included.

As Heimerdinger nodded firmly, ears and bushy head flopping as he did, the meeting had concluded. With the conclusion confirmed, the yordle was off like lightning. Long discussions of menial amendments had long been tuned out at the beginning. Your sole focus had been at the back of Viktor's head. At times, you wondered if he felt the eyes drilling into him with the way his knuckles on the cane's handle would occasionally turn white.

People filtered out of the room briskly, wasting no time to prepare for their busy weekends.

You were the last ones in the room.

And your mother, unfortunately.

She stood after everyone else departed. The slightest clinks of her jewlery filled the room as she grabbed up her belongings. Her eyes met yours and she glanced at Viktor for the slightest moment. "The carriage is downstairs." She stated.

You nodded, "I'll walk home today. I have some class work to finish up at the library."

She left promptly afterwards.

Your focus returned to Viktor, who slightly hutched over the table and appeared to be fingering through a planner.

"Ah—Viktor?" You started, unsure of his last name or whether he minded being addressed so casually.

Viktor straightened the book in hand and closed it with a sharp 'slap!'. When he turned to look at you and said your name in the tilted lilt of his, your name sounded brand new. But maybe that was just the accent.

"Is there something you need from me or did my one-time visit last week invoke a familiarity between us that I was unaware of?" He asked, raising a thick brown brow.

The passive-aggressive comment damn near sent you running back downstairs with your tail between your legs, hoping that your mother's ride hadn't left yet. But, you had no choice except to suck it up. "Sorry to bother you. It's just..." You picked at the skin of your cuticles, trying to avoid his intense gaze.

"You want to ask me to schedule a meeting with Heimerdinger." He said flatly.

Shit.

Of course he knew. It was written all over your guilty face.

Unable to muster up the words, you simply nodded.

"Everyone wants a second with the Dean. What could he possibly help you with that Councilor Roycen cannot?" He asked, folding his arms as he leaned against the table.

"I want to resolve this myself." You said assuredly. "My mother doesn't solve problems for me."

"That's a surprise." He mused, humming to himself. "What is the problem?"

"My final project for a history class is due soon and I need permission to work solo."

"That's it? Your professor could do that, no need to waste Heimerdinger's time."

You shook your head, rubbing the space between your eyebrows briefly. "I wouldn't come to Heimerdinger, or to you, if it wasn't my last resort. My partner, my professor, and even my guidance councilor all refuse to listen."

Viktor stayed quiet in front of you, analyzing you in a way you were unused to. Scrutinized, sure, but not anything beyond the shallow tastes of Piltover's elite.

"Please, Viktor. I have to pass this class." You pleaded, unknowing of what kind of effect a pathos appeal might have on someone you are hardly even acquainted with, but your best chance was relying on the assumption that Viktor had empathy for a student who is in the shoes he once was.

"You don't truly believe that, right?"

"That I have to pass my courses?" You asked, puzzled.

"One conversation with your professor and you'd pass with flying colors." He shrugged.

"I have flying colors." You bit, frustrated at his close-minded attitude. "I'm not willing to lose all my hard work for some dickhead who thinks the same as you. Everything since starting college has been my own hard work—no one else's."

Something in Viktor's eyes flickered. He stood up, grabbing his cane with a newfound haste. "I can find a slot for you. Maybe." He said. You visibly lit up, nodding and bouncing on your heels like a hyperactive pup. "That's not a guarantee."

"I understand." You bit your cheek, containing your giddiness.

"Come, my office isn't far. We'll find a date." He offered, nodding for you to follow beside him. It wasn't hard to fall into place at his side going down the elevator. In fact, the casualness almost felt natural.

Thinking on it now, this might have been the longest conversation you'd had with someone that wasn't working with you on a group project or working for you in months. Though, you did seek him out for help. Perhaps it still didn't count when it was his job to complete Heimerdinger's menial tasks. Still, your heart felt lighter at the interaction, even through Viktor's standoffishness.

A part of you felt hopeful for the near future. To pass your history class, then later on the entire school year. In years, you would be a respected figure in Piltover, known for political and peace achievements just like your forefathers were. The tinge in the back of your heart told you otherwise, but your mind had long come to terms with your set fate.

"Are you going to stand there, or is there another assistant you have to bother in the building?" Viktor's voice cut through. He waited outside of the elevator doors, holding his elbow out for it to stay open.

"Coming!" You said breathlessly, hopping out of the lift and towards the lobby doors.

🪞

My first time ever writing in second person. I wanted this to kind of be a test for that so I can write better 'reader' povs because third person is so much harder to do without a name attached.

Yes, the peanut gallery was for trials only and only council members attend actual meetings, but I think assistants are exceptions for that.

sorry if my terms for engineering or robotics or whatever these people do are so repetitive I do not participate in STEM lmao

[olinblogin]

Nervously shuffling in (/silly)

Can I request Salo from Arcane x reader (gn or masc) where reader was basically like a right hand/assistant for him before the events of S2, and now they're by his side like 24/7? Basically just being the one to look after him the most and trying to get him to have a better attitude about life/himself following the accident that lead to him needing a wheelchair

˚✧༚ SELF LOVE ˚✧༚

˗ˏˋ♡ ~SALO X GN/M!READER~ ♡´ˎ˗

contents: sorta fluff, POSSIBLE S2 SPOILERS, slight angst???, PROBABLY OOC IM SORRY, brief mentions of gory stuff

•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•

When you were accepted to work as an assistant for one of the Councilmen of the Piltover University, you were absolutely thrilled.

You were assigned to work for Salo, be by his side almost 24/7.

With the time you got to know him, you deduced that he was snippy, a bit arrogant… sort of stupid too— at least when he tried a bag of nuts to Torman Hoskei, to which he was allergic to…

Despite it all, he was kind to you… almost sweet.

But when you found him, legs mangled under rubble from an attack, it only seemed to go downhill from there. There was so much blood.

Salo was restrained to a wheelchair, needing your assistance to get around the Academy—with all the stairs and lack of disability aids, it’s was severely difficult.

He also grew colder, he’d snap at you easier… you’ve made progress on that and he doesn’t snap at you anymore. Cant say the same for the rest of the Councilmen.

•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•

Pushing Salo’s wheelchair through the crowded streets of Piltover, you found yourself giving dirty glares to people who only moved out of the way last second and tripped up on Salo’s wheelchair.

“Such incompetence for those without able-bodies…” he muttered with a sneer.

You frowned and looked at him while maneuvering him over a pothole. “Yes… that’s true. Perhaps we need to have a meeting to install mobility aids—“

“No,” Salo quickly snapped back. “It isn’t necessary. At least not for the likes of me. As long as you’re here with me, I can get by just fine.” He mumbled, jostling about a little bit when the terrain changed.

Your face only saddened at his words. Ever since in this wheelchair, he’s been so self deprecating. It’s painful to see.

•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•

Once at the building Salo had been visiting recently, you entered and dropped him off in the room he usually visits, waiting outside.

You watched as Lest walked by, smiling up at the tall, feline woman. “Evening, Lest.” You greeted with a kind smile.

“Good evening, [Y/N]… today’s appointment won’t take long. Only about 20 or so minutes.” Lest smiled and spoke kindly while opening the door, and leaving you in the hall.

You were so deathly curious as to why he came here so often. What he and Lest did… it made you realize how little you also knew of Lest. She was a kind, fair woman however… so you couldn’t complain.

Once Lest exited later on, you two shared your goodbyes.

Usually Salo would tell you to wait for a long time outside the room after Lest left and called you in… but… you needed to see.

As you opened the door you stiffened slightly at the sight before you: Salo lying on the couch in nothing but his briefs with a blissful expression, markings painted on his body in a faded purple hue.

“Salo?” You called out quietly and closed the door, locking it, so nobody could come in.

Salo lazily turned his head to you, his eyes clouded with bliss. “Mmh. Hey there, [Y/N]. I thought I told you to… stay out in the place-…” he mumbled and stumbled over his words, forgetting some.

“The hallway? Yeah, I know…” you hummed and crouched next to him by the couch. “Why are you doing this.” You glowered at him, eyebrows knitted with anger. “I thought you said you hated shimmer.”

Salo traced his finger along the linings of the couch seams. “I changed my mind… it helps—“

Salo’s head was suddenly snapped to the side, a slap echoing across the room as the back of your hand made contact with his cheek. That seemed to sober him up extremely fast.

You reeled back slightly with shock of what you had just done. “My apologies, sir…” you stepped back with a hint of timidness.

“No—“ Salo propped himself up on his elbow. “I..- you’re right.” His eyes lowered… before he quickly covered his lower body with the blanket draped across the top of the couch. “It makes me feel something for once. Especially in my legs.”

You frowned and hooked your arm around his legs and wrapped one around his waist too, pulling him into his wheelchair since he was still too inebriated to move on his own. “Let’s get you back home… and get you sobered up. We’ll talk when you’re in the right mind.” You sighed as he clumsily got into his clothes.

•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•·.·''·.·•

Once you finally got Salo home, he was pretty sobered up alright, but you could tell there were still lingering effects of the shimmer.

As he was sat at his desk, doing his paperwork, he kept looking at you, his expression a bit insecure.

“Salo… what’s with that face. You only have that face when somethings eating you up.” You scolded knowingly.

It made him shy away slightly before leaning back and looking up at you. “Thank you…- for earlier, I mean. You made me come to my senses…” he muttered that last part, fingers slightly gliding over his cheek as he felt the sting of your slap.

He never realized how strong of a hand you had.

You came up close to him, your face close to his… “You act smart… but you’re such a dimwit.” You huffed. “Don’t do that shit again, because I’ll snack you upside the head next time.” You poked his forehead playfully.

The space between you two closed as your lips met. Salo wrapped his arms around your neck, while you carded through his gracious blonde hair.

You pulled away, your noses were pressed together at the bridges. “I won’t… you have my promise.” Salo mused quietly, enjoying your embrace.

[sunshine-zenith]

I see your “Viktor was raised by Vander” and “JayVik are Jinx’s dads” AUs and I raise you this: AU where Viktor was one of Benzo’s boys and takes in Ekko after Benzo’s death

Benzo loved Zaun and was ready and willing to step in for Vander, while also working and saving and trading so his boys could go to a school where there were resources available to foster their talents. Plus, he knows that with Piltover’s doctors and lack of pollution, Viktor likely has a better chance of long term survival there. He made sure to get two uniforms for the Academy and knew his boys could handle the rest — both Ekko and Viktor had a knack for sneaking into places they shouldn’t be. Viktor jumps on the opportunity, seeing it as a way to help Zaun by taking advantage of Piltover’s resources. Ekko secretly hates the idea, not wanting to leave Zaun (or his friends) at all

After Viktor starts attending, Ekko occasionally follows him Topside, just in case Viktor ever needs help/backup. Ekko doesn’t trust anyone up there with his brother’s well being. When Viktor finds out, he’s furious. While following Viktor, Ekko learns that Viktor was found out by the Academy, and that he’s technically no longer a student there, but an employee thanks to Heimer. Viktor makes Ekko swear into secrecy and Benzo never learns the truth

Ekko learning a handful of words in Viktor’s first language, enough to swear and communicate short messages, so he and Viktor could have secret conversations in front of Powder, Mylo, and Clagger (Vi knows they aren’t actually saying anything, and that at first Ekko’s probably making up half the words he’s saying while Viktor plays along). Powder ends up learning the language as well and for a period you could find the three of them bent over some cobbled together invention, rambling on in it. Eventually, he even teaches a handful of words to the Firelights, just in case they need to communicate in front of Enforcers (they learn quickly not to use the language in front of anyone from Silco’s crew — Jinx doesn’t teach anyone it and quietly doesn’t tell them it’s even a real language they can learn, but she’ll still share/react to important info if she hears it)

When Benzo dies, Viktor insists that Ekko come to Piltover with him. Ekko fights him at first, but when it becomes clear that Powder, another long and traumatized child, considers herself Jinx now and insists on staying with Silco, Ekko goes. He still makes his way over the bridge frequently, forming the Firelights in the process, and Viktor never stops him. Ekko tries to hide as much of this from Viktor as possible, knowing Viktor would want to join and not wanting to force his brother to choose between helping them and his dreams. Ekko also doesn’t want to do anything to risk shortening/ending Viktor’s life, deep down afraid of adding Viktor to the list of people he’s lost. He accepts loss as a fact of life early on, but the thought of adding Viktor to his memorial terrifies him, and Viktor occupies a similar part of Ekko’s heart that the memory of Powder does (the part that makes him hesitate with her, and, eventually, almost makes him hesitate with him)

Powder never told Ekko about the gemstones she found. Occasionally, he sees an overlap between her bombs and Viktor’s inventions, and he wonders though

Here, part of why Viktor works so hard, pushes himself past his own limits so often, is because there are nights where he’s haunted by the wounds Ekko sometimes shows up with, by the nights Ekko doesn’t come home.

Jayce, meanwhile, has a soft spot for Ekko, and even occasionally plays a big brother/stepparent role. Ekko even finds doodles of Viktor in Jayce’s notes and is torn between how actually good the art is and rolling his eyes in disgust. Ekko plays a bit of an assistant role when he’s in Piltover, and some of HexTech’s breakthroughs are thanks to him. Every time he sees Jayce’s face on a blimp or hears some variation of “Man of Progress” he rolls his eyes in disgust for a different reason. Ekko also grows up knowing Caitlyn, and is floored when he finds both her and Vi near Jinx. Knowing how down bad Caitlyn and Jayce are for Vi and Viktor respectively both reassures Ekko and brings out the protective little brother energy in a big way

From S1Act2 onwards, Ekko is technically old enough to attend the Academy. He’s more torn than ever, especially when he realizes he’s finally grown into that uniform that Benzo worked so hard to get him

Both brothers want similar things — Viktor wants to give Ekko a better future. Ekko just wants Viktor to have a future at all

[zerun0]

"The Colors of Us" — Viktor x Y/N (Gender-Neutral)

And this is my third story on the universe of Arcane !

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work.

Heavily inspired by — "What happens in the bathhouse... " by LinkyDinks —

— ! WARNING NSFW (+18): ! — Established relationship, sexual themes, Flirting, Hot tub, Teasing, Masturbation. — Word count: — 2,9k (Full uncut version on AO3)

Piltover was a city of progress. Tall spires of metal and glass soared above, glittering with the promises of science and invention. Airships cut through the sky like graceful birds, and beneath their flight, the streets bustled with a mix of inventors, artisans, and scholars from the prestigious Piltover Academy. Among them was Y/N, an artist, seeking to find their place in the city of progress through the lens of creativity, which often felt out of step with the methodical precision Piltover demanded.

Art was Y/N’s form of rebellion, a splash of chaos in a place where everything had its place and function. Though some in the Academy dismissed their work as frivolous, others—like Viktor—saw the genius in it. Viktor, with his brilliant mind and soul shaped by invention, had always been a reserved but sharp-eyed companion. To Y/N, he was more than just an intellectual ally; he was a kindred spirit, even if they expressed their gifts in drastically different ways.

It was rare that Viktor took time away from his work, so when Y/N invited him out for a quiet evening in the upper levels of Piltover, it was a surprising to see the tired one accept it.

"Just one night,” Viktor had said in his soft, accented voice. “I think... I could... we, we both could use a break.”

— Small time skip: Around 7:24 pm —

As they walked together beneath the glittering streetlamps of Piltover’s wealthiest district, the air crackled with the shared energy of anticipation.

"The Grand Hotel" was nothing short of breathtaking. It stood tall, adorned with the finest Piltover could offer—gilded archways, lush tapestries that draped the walls like fine paintings, and crystal chandeliers that gleamed in warm golden hues. For an artist, it was almost overwhelming, the richness of it all. But it also held the charm of something fleeting, a place far removed from the gritty streets and the cold laboratories.

“Quite the place, isn’t it?” Y/N mused as they entered the lavish lobby, stealing a glance at Viktor. He looked as composed as ever, his face framed by his dark brown hair, the glow of the dim lights making the sharp lines of his features seem even more striking.

He gave a rare, almost shy smile. “It is… a bit excessive. But I thought perhaps it would make for a change of pace.”

They made their way to the front desk, where a young attendant greeted them with impeccable manners and a smile polished like the marble floors. After a quick exchange of pleasantries, they were handed a key.

“Your suite is on the top floor,” the attendant said, bowing slightly.

Y/N’s had mentioned nothing about staying at a hotel, much less in a suite. Viktor's curiosity piqued. It wasn’t like him to indulge in luxuries like this. His usual quarters were cramped and bare, filled only with his inventions and research papers. Still, Viktor followed without complaint, knowing Y/N’s always had their reasons.

The elevator ride was swift and silent, taking them to the topmost floor, where their suite awaited.

The room itself was a masterpiece of elegance, but Y/N’s eyes were immediately drawn to the massive window that stretched across one wall, revealing a panoramic view of Piltover at night. The city’s lights glittered like stars, reflecting off the calm waters of the river far below.

“Wow,” Y/N breathed, walking toward the window, captivated by the beauty of it all.

Viktor followed a few steps behind, his cane tapping gently against the marble floor. He stood beside them, his golden-brown eyes quietly taking in the view, though Y/N suspected his thoughts were far away, perhaps on some new invention or scientific discovery. Still, there was a certain calmness about him tonight, a softness that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Viktor said, turning to face them. “I didn’t realize you knew such places existed.”

His tone was light, but there was something deeper in his gaze as he looked at Y/N. Something unspoken, but undeniably present.

After a shared dinner in the suite’s private dining area—a delicious meal accompanied by wine neither of them usually had time to enjoy—Viktor excused himself for a moment. Y/N took the opportunity to wander the room a bit more, letting their fingers trail along the silk sheets and finely crafted furniture. A door to the side caught their attention, and they opened it to reveal a luxurious bathroom.

And at its center, a large, marble hot tub.

Y/N's eyes widened. It was set in an alcove surrounded by lush plants, steam already rising from the warm water. It looked like something out of a dream, a place meant for relaxation, indulgence, and... something more.

A soft knock on the doorframe pulled Y/N from their thoughts. Viktor stood there, his jacket now discarded, leaving him in a simple shirt and trousers. His eyes flickered toward the hot tub, and a faint blush crept up his neck.

There was a silence... then Y/N spoke — “Would you like to join me?” Y/N asked softly, stepping closer.

Viktor hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “A-are you sure?”

"I would be more than happy" — Y/N said, their hand fixing a strand of hair in Viktor's face, you had flirted before, but you felt bold and courageous today.

Y/N started to undress as they watched Viktor's face turn red, the scientist tried to avoid looking upon their bare, naked body. But a few curious glances found their way towards Y/N, as they turned and approached the hot tub.

The warmth of the water was immediate, soothing, and Y/N felt their body relax as they sank into it. The soft glow of candlelight illuminated the room, casting long shadows that danced across the marble tiles. — "Now... will you join me, handsome?"

Viktor hesitated, red, and stuttering for his dear life, as he could not think straight. But soon nervously removed his clothes as if his desire took control of his movements. — Then followed them in, moving carefully due to his bad leg. Once he was settled, a small sigh escaped him as the heat worked its way through his tense muscles and pounding heart.

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the only sound the gentle ripple of water and the soft crackle of the candles. Viktor leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, his eyes closed, and Y/N couldn’t help but watch him. He looked different like this—vulnerable, almost human in a way that the world often didn’t allow him to be.

Y/N’s fingers twitched. They had an overwhelming desire to touch him, to capture this moment not with paint, but with their hands. And so, without thinking too much, they shifted closer, their hand brushing against Viktor’s.

His eyes fluttered open at the contact, a question in them, but Y/N merely smiled. Slowly, cautiously, Y/N raised a hand to cup Viktor’s jaw, their thumb grazing the line of his cheek.

“You’ve been tense,” Y/N whispered. “I can feel it.”

Viktor didn’t pull away. Instead, he tilted his head ever so slightly, leaning into the touch. It was as if he were starved for it, for that gentle connection, though he rarely allowed himself such indulgences.

“It’s difficult not to-o be,” he replied, his voice soft yet so nervous. “But with you… it is e-easier.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at the admission. They shifted even closer, so that their knees brushed under the water, the steam swirling around them like a veil. They could see the faint rise and fall of Viktor’s chest, his breaths a little shallower now. Under water an clear erection as he looked to Y/N eyes.

“Let me help you relax..” Y/N murmured, their voice low and intimate.

Viktor swallowed, his throat bobbing under Y/N’s hand. He didn’t protest, didn’t resist, and that was all the permission Y/N needed.

With slow, deliberate movements, Y/N slid their hands over Viktor’s shoulders, feeling the tension there, the strain of years spent hunched over workbenches and machines. They began to massage the knots from his muscles, fingers working with gentle pressure all the way down to his most intimate areas, holding it gently and seductively. Viktor’s breath hitched slightly at first, but then he let out a soft exhale, his body slowly melting under their touch.

“Y/N,” Viktor whispered, his voice a little ragged now, filled with something more than just gratitude. It was want, need—things he rarely expressed, but that Y/N could feel in the way his body responded to their touch.

Y/N leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Viktor’s jaw, just below his ear. They felt him shiver, though the water was still warm. The heat between them was palpable now, a simmering tension that neither of them seemed eager to break.

Viktor’s hand came up then, tentative at first, but soon firm, resting on Y/N’s hip beneath the water. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were afraid to break the spell between them. But Y/N welcomed it, their body responding instinctively, leaning into his touch, as they continued to masturbate the shy one.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were their soft breaths and the faint lapping of water against the sides of the tub.

Then Viktor’s lips found Y/N’s, tentative at first, his breath shaky with uncertainty. He was gentle, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters of a world he rarely allowed himself to enter. But the warmth of Y/N’s touch, the reassurance in their closeness, softened his reservations. Y/N responded with equal tenderness, their lips moving against his with a quiet, unhurried rhythm, savoring the moment.

Viktor’s hand, trembling slightly, found its way to Y/N’s waist beneath the water. His touch was tentative, but there was a quiet intensity to it, his fingers curling around their side as if anchoring himself. For a moment, he stopped their partner's hand from touching their intimacy, afraid to break too early. His forehead resting against theirs as they both caught their breath, the silence between them thick with anticipation.

“You don’t have to hold back,” Y/N murmured against his lips, their fingers tracing the edge of his collarbone. “Not with me.”

The next kiss was different. It was still soft, still careful, but there was a need behind it now, a slow-burning intensity that hadn’t been there before. Viktor’s hand, once hesitant, moved with more confidence, sliding up from their waist to the small of their back, pulling them closer as his lips parted, deepening the kiss. Y/N responded in kind, their arms wrapping around his neck, fingers threading through the damp strands of his hair as they pressed their bodies closer under the water.

Y/N could feel his restraint slipping, the careful control he usually held onto crumbling as their hands moved over him, as their lips met again and again in a heated, desperate rhythm. Viktor’s hands slid lower, his fingers tracing patterns on their back, their waist, the feel of his touch sending shivers through Y/N.

Their hands roamed over each other, exploring, searching, the water lapping gently around them as they moved. Viktor’s hand slipped under the water, resting on Y/N’s thigh, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through them. Y/N gasped softly against his lips, their own hands moving to mirror his touch, fingers brushing over the sensitive skin of his hips.

Viktor groaned softly, the sound low and desperate, and it only spurred Y/N on, their touches becoming bolder, more confident.

“I’ve-e wanted th-h-his… for so long,” Viktor murmured against their lips, his voice barely more than a whisper, filled with a vulnerability that made Y/N’s heart ache.

Y/N kissed him deeply, their hands cupping his face, their thumbs brushing his cheeks as they whispered back, “Me too, Viktor.”

For a moment, everything else faded away. There was no Piltover, no Academy, no responsibilities or pressures. There was only them, tangled together in the warm water, their lips and hands exploring, their hearts pounding in unison. It was slow, it was heated, and it was perfect—two souls finding solace in each other, in the quiet spaces between invention and creation.

Now, there was simply Y/N on the skinny scientist member, their touch subtle and gentle, as they did their best to drive Viktor into their release with rhythmic movements ... up... and down, like they painted a masterpiece of pleasure.

And then, with a quiet gasp, Viktor’s body tensed, his grip on Y/N tightening as he reached the edge, his breath catching in his throat as the tension finally broke, as he allowed himself to cum, as all his fluids mixed with the water.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Viktor allowed himself to relax completely. His head rested against Y/N’s, his lips barely brushing their neck as he let out a soft, contented sigh. The vulnerability of the moment settled between them, and Y/N could feel the quiet gratitude in the way Viktor held onto them, the way he let himself simply be there, with no pressure, no expectations—just them.

They pressed a soft kiss to his temple, letting their lips linger there for a moment before they whispered, "Viktor… maybe we should get out of here."

He stirred slightly at the sound of their voice, blinking slowly as if coming back to the present. His cheeks flushed, not just from the heat of the tub but from the lingering embarrassment that seemed to settle in the air now that the moment had passed. Viktor shifted against Y/N, his body weak from both exhaustion and the vulnerability of the night.

“I… yes,” he murmured, though his voice was soft, almost hesitant. His hand, still resting gently on Y/N’s side, trembled ever so slightly. “I think that… would be wise.”

Viktor sat up a little, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided Y/N’s gaze, his usual reserved demeanor slipping back into place, though there was still a softness in his expression

Y/N stood, the cool air hitting their skin as they stepped out of the tub, offering Viktor a hand to help him up. He hesitated for a moment, his golden-brown eyes flicking up to meet theirs with a hint of sheepishness, before taking their hand. His legs felt unsteady as he rose, and Y/N could feel the slight tremble in his grip as he steadied himself.

Once they were both out, Y/N handed Viktor a towel, watching as he carefully dried himself off, still avoiding eye contact. His cheeks were still flushed, and Y/N could see the faint quirk of a shy smile on his lips, though he did his best to hide it.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked softly, stepping closer and resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Viktor nodded, though he let out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. “I am… perhaps a bit more tired than I anticipated.” His voice was quiet, a little breathless, and Y/N could tell he was still processing everything that had just happened.

“Then let’s get you to bed,” Y/N said with a warm smile, their hand sliding down to lace their fingers through his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Viktor’s eyes met theirs for a brief moment, and he nodded, clearly relieved by the suggestion.

Together, they made their way to the bed in the center of the room, the sheets looking impossibly inviting after the intense heat of the hot tub. Viktor sat down on the edge first, his shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of his usual stoicism had been lifted, leaving only the exhaustion of the night.

Y/N slid in beside him, wrapping their arms around him from behind, pulling him gently into a soft embrace. Viktor leaned into their touch, his body instinctively relaxing against theirs. The tension that had built up over so many years, in both his work and his emotions, seemed to melt away in the quiet safety of Y/N’s arms.

He let out a soft, almost contented sigh, his head resting back against Y/N’s shoulder. “I… I never thought I would feel this… close to someone,” Viktor admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in his words cutting through the air like a confession.

Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his neck, holding him tighter. “You deserve this, Viktor. You deserve to be cared for, to have someone by your side.”

He smiled weakly, his eyes fluttering closed as he leaned more fully into their embrace, his exhaustion catching up with him. “Perhaps,” he whispered, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “But I… I do not know what I would do without you.”

“You won’t have to find out,” Y/N whispered softly, their hands tracing light circles on his chest as they cuddled closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[senualothbrok]

Hello! I'm Senua! 🤗

Welcome to my world! 👋

Commission by @demiesop

I am obsessed with Gale Dekarios and Baldur's Gate 3. I also love animals (especially dogs, cats and horses), tattoos / neotrad art, haiku, and existentialism. This post pretty much sums up who I am, and this post goes into my writing journey!

I write BG3 fics, mainly about Gale. I write angst, hurt/comfort, and smut (Gale x Tav/OC/reader). Occasionally, I make memes about Gale brainrot. I love visual art and supporting artists.

Below the cut, you can find a list of my work and an assortment of things I love. You can also find me on AO3. I have a Ko-fi account if you want to buy me a coffee for something you enjoyed reading.

I'd love to get to know you, so please feel free to pop me an ask or message with any comments, questions, or requests! Just don't be a hater. I'm not into those.

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Fics

Enough (Non-18+. Astarion x female Tav. Angst. Trauma and recovery.)

You agreed to help Astarion with the Rite of Profane Ascension, but you can't watch him go through with it. You interrupt the ritual, and Astarion turns on you. Now, you must deal with the aftermath of your actions.

Love and Beauty (Non-18+. Non-ascended Astarion x female Tav. References to bereavement.)

A few days after Astarion has taken you to his grave, you are lying in bed together. You decide it's time to make a confession.

Rest (Non-18+. Gale x female Tav. Hurt/comfort.)

You have defeated the Netherbrain and survived. But when Gale asks you to marry him, you find that you cannot accept his offer.

Content (Non-18+. Gale x Tav. Mild hurt/comfort. Fluff.)

After the reunion party, Gale wonders whether you regret choosing him over Astarion.

Prayer (Non-18+. God!Gale. Gale x Tav. Heavy angst. Grief/mourning.)

The God of Ambition has returned to Elysium, and you did not follow him. You grieve for Gale, and you struggle to move on with your life.

A Show of Love (18+. NSFW. Gale x female reader/Tav. Smut.)

Sometimes, Gale doesn't seem sure how much you love him. So you decide to show him.

Words (18+. NSFW. Gale x female reader/Tav. Smut.)

At your home in Waterdeep, you and Gale recall the early stages of your relationship.

Progress (Non-18+. Professor Gale x female OC. Angst. Mental illness and recovery.)

When you start your studies at Blackstaff Academy, you expect a battle with your demons. But the last thing you expect is to fall in love.

Promise (Non 18+. Professor Gale x female OC. Angst with a happy ending. Mental illness and recovery.)

Gale learns what it means to love and be loved. Sequel to Progress.

A Brush With Danger (Non 18+. Gale x female Tav.)

Anon prompt: Gale's thoughts and feelings before his infamous declaration in the Shadow-Cursed Lands.

Unexpected (18+. NSFW. Professor Gale x female reader/Tav. Smut.)

You pay Gale an unexpected visit after one of his classes.

Absolution (Non-18+. God!Gale. Gale x Tav. Angst.)

The God of Ambition considers the last of his attachments. Sequel to Prayer.

The Difference (Non-18+. AU (reverse isekai). Gale x female Tav/OC. Angst. Hurt/comfort. Mental health issues.) Multichapter.

When a portal appears in your living room and Gale Dekarios tumbles out of it, you think you are going insane. But truth is stranger than fiction, and things are rarely what they seem.

Mortal pleasures (18+. NSFW. Smut. Gale x female Tav/reader.)

Gale has shown you how gods bond in the astral. Now, you show him how good mortal pleasures can be.

Revelation (18+. NSFW. Smut. Gale x female OC.)

Gale shows Aurora she has nothing to hide. Sequel to Progress and Promise.

Open Hands, Open Hearts (Non-18+. Gale x female Tav. Mild hurt/comfort.)

With the Netherbrain defeated and the companions about to go their separate ways, Gale decides to be honest about his feelings for Tav.

Remembrance (Non-18+. Professor Gale x female Tav. Angst.)

In Waterdeep, Tav journeys through grief and loss, with Gale by her side.

Oath of Devotion (Non-18+. Professor Gale x female Tav. Mild hurt/comfort.)

When you accompany Karlach to Avernus after the defeat of the Netherbrain, you assume it is the end of your romance with Gale. But you have a lot to learn about the meaning of devotion.

Come What May (Non-18+. Gale x female Tav. Angst (with a happy ending). References to trauma, grief, and suicidal ideation.)

On what Gale believes is his last night alive, you cannot give him your body. But there are countless ways to declare love, and infinite ways to express it.

Nocturnal Postulations (Non-18+. Gale x Tav. Fluff.)

Response to prompt: Tav gets grumpy when sleep-deprived. Gale sleep talks a lot and then jokes about it.

Carried Away (18+. NSFW. Smut. Gale x female Tav/reader.)

Response to prompt: good old fashioned 'boring' bed sex with Gale.

Here (Non-18+. Gale x reader/Tav. Hurt/comfort).

After you rescue Gale from Orin's lair, he has some things to work through. You show him he is not alone.

A Tight Fit (18+. Smut. Gale x female Tav/reader)

You and Gale are trapped in a locked room, with no space to move.

Research (18+. NSFW. Smut. Gale x Mia (female OC from The Difference))

Gale and Mia do some very vigorous research.

A Generous Portion (Non-18+. Gale x female Tav/reader)

Gale is a flustered mess after you are locked in a room together. Sequel to A Tight Fit.

A Perfect Storm (18+. NSFW. Smut. Gale x female Tav/reader)

You and Gale give in to your passions, but there are some obstacles along the way. Sequel to A Tight Fit and A Generous Portion.

The Tree (Non-18+. Gale x Mia (female OC from The Difference).

Gale decorates Mia's Christmas tree.

Other writing

My Tulpa - a personal reflection on what Gale means to me, and what it means to love him

System Error - a poem on a hard day

Ember - honest feelings about love

Collaborations

Two Monks, Two Gales

The adventures of a pair of polar opposite Monastery-siblings and their same-person-different-version Gales

Celebrating monk Tavs and East Asian culture with @inglorionamy-ammy

* Vegetarianism 茹素 (1)

* Vegetarianism 茹素 (2)

Gale's Compundium

A magical collection of Gale's best puns, with a sprinkling of chibi Gales

Adoring the socks off our dorky wizard with @dekariosclan

Drabble tennis

Gale-based to and from drabbles with the magnificent writer extraordinaire @theletteraesc

* Hands

* Asking for help

* Introverts

* Undiagnosed sorcerer

* Pillow talk

* Challenge accepted

* A lover and a fighter

* Sleepy, dishevelled and hungry

Memes

I occasionally make Gale-related memes because I think I'm funny 💀

* The inside of my brain

* When your soul mate is a pixel man

* Smooching Gale - the struggle

* Gale porn is therapeutic

* Fic vs therapy

* Gale's chest hair

* Trying

* Every day I wake up

* I don't get it

* Fictiophilia

* Horny on main

* Drawing Gale

* Evil endings

* Happiness is

* Can't let go

Doodles

I'm not very good, but I am trying 🤦🏻‍♀️

* Bite that wizard

* Infodump on me, baby

* Smiles and smirks

* Why so serious

* Chibi Gales

My OCs

I like to make things about my OCs, because who doesn't? 🥰

All the picrews

I self indulgently made picrews of most of my Tavs/OCs, and there are a lot

Mia Zhang (from The Difference)

* Playlist

* Picrew of Gale x Mia

* This or That

* Nine things

Aurora Dekarios nee Wintertal (from Progress, Promise and Revelation)

* Five songs/outfits

* Another picrew of Gale x Mia

* Picrew of Gale x Aurora

* This or That

* Dressing up

* Mood board

Tav (from Open Hands, Open Hearts)

* Picrew

* Patron saint

Gifts

* My dear friend @dolceaspidenera made some wonderful gifsets of Gale x Aurora from Progress and Promise. They are so beautiful, I still haven't recovered from them.

* Lovely @mahiiimahiiii made a beautiful piece of art inspired by The Difference, which overwhelms me with so many feels.

* My beloved @practicallydeadinside-blog gifted me a cameo from national treasure Tim Downie explaining why Gale is so shredded and it changed my life.

* I commissioned one of my favourite artists @demiesop to draw Gale and Mia from The Difference, and Gale and Aurora from Promise, and she truly delivered. She has also done an epic chibi masterpiece of the companions which gives me such joy.

* Tim Downie kindly did a beautiful reading of Gale and Mia's wedding vows from The Difference, which I treasure so much.

* Wonderful @alpydk wrote a heartrending poem dedicated to Elspeth from The Difference. I'm beyond amazed.

* For my birthday, amazing @inglorionamy-ammy did a beautiful tribute not only to Gale and Tara but to my best buddy George who passed away. I cherish it.

* @inglorionamy-ammy and I had an unhinged conversation about trading a liver for Gale to become real and she made this hilarious comic on the back of it. I love her.

* The wonderful @thycatsays has written a beautiful sequel to The Difference called Divenire. It is truly excellent, and such an honour to enjoy this.

* @colorisandoo did a beautiful commission of Mia from The Difference which I love a lot.

* I was very lucky to get a commission from @ym523 of my Tav and Gale having some spicy time together.

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

akio and the coffin

it’s fascinating how akio both literally IS the coffin of ohtori academy and, simultaneously, is trapped by it. ohtori academy is in many ways a manifestation of the ugly side of adolescence, of clinging on to something in your past and refusing to move forward in your life. every character has something they continue to hold on to despite the fact that they ought to let it go for the sake of growing and maturing. for example, saionji has his inferiority complex regarding touga, his refusal to let go of the simplicity of their childhood together when he felt that they stood on the same ground, and that touga saw him as an equal. everything he does in the series is an attempt to make himself feel as though he is finally on equal grounds with touga. if he would only stop tying his self-image to the perception that touga is somehow above him, that touga looks down on him, then he would be able to let go of that sense of inferiority and move on. but he can’t. juri refuses to let go of the pain she feels regarding her past with shiori, and continues to see shiori as someone who is “innocent”, albeit cruelly - someone who is unknowing of the pain she causes juri through her actions when in fact, shiori in seducing the boy she thought juri loved was deliberately acting to hurt her. if juri would only realize and accept the true intentions behind shiori’s behavior, then she could get one step closer to understanding shiori, to being understood by her, and moving past the pain of shiori’s betrayal. but she can’t. 

most of the characters, except utena and anthy of course, remain in ohtori by the end of the show. while they’ve all made progress in “maturing” thanks to the events they experienced throughout the series - both saionji and touga’s as well as juri and shiori’s relationships have gotten visibly better, as shown in the final medley of scenes - they still have more growing to do, hence why they remain in ohtori academy until their time comes. one day, the show suggests, they might also revolutionize their own worlds - their own selves - and finally leave the coffin of ohtori behind as well. 

so where does that leave akio? i think he can be said to literally be the coffin of ohtori in that he is explicitly shown to try to manipulate others into remaining stagnant, to clinging on to whatever toxic things they are struggling to process and come to terms with, though this is of course only shown via the characters he most directly interacts with. naturally it comes across most clearly with anthy, although i think utena and to a less direct extent, touga, are the other two people who are the most straightforwardly influenced by him. when it comes to anthy, she clings to her love for the person her brother used to be, the older brother who, at least as she perceived, was kind and caring and wanted to protect people. to protect that older brother, she willingly took on the hatred of the world, and continues to endure the pain of it to this day for what is implied to be centuries. but akio has shown time and time again, through the repeating dueling cycles, that if he was ever kindhearted and genuinely caring, those parts of him are gone now. i do believe he cares about anthy to an extent even now, but whatever affection he has for her is paltry in comparison to his desire to reclaim his power as prince dios. it’s for that purpose that he set up the entire dueling system, for which he freely allows duelists to treat anthy like a prize and an object. and additionally, because anthy is so integral to the power he has now in ohtori, he uses emotional, psychological, physical, and sexual abuse to keep her tied to him. he’s willing to not just let her wellbeing come last, but puts it at the bottom of the list of priorities, and actively tears it down himself for his own benefit. anthy knows all this - but because she still holds onto that love that she had for who he used to be, she stays with him and does his bidding. and that’s what akio wants. he is the coffin, wishing to keep people in their states of despair, conflict, and pain, therefore ensuring that they are compliant and vulnerable to his manipulation. 

at the same time, akio is trapped by the coffin like everyone else. he, like all the other characters, has something that he ought to move on from for his own sake as well as the sake of the people around him: his goal to reclaim his powers as prince dios. akio has failed in this goal every single dueling cycle that happened before the show’s events, and as displayed in the final episode, he definitively fails the one that takes place during the show as well. he can attempt the cycle over and over and over again, redo and tweak and modify the dueling system however many times and in whatever ways he wants - it’s all useless. there is no sword that can break open the rose gate. there is no way to reclaim his powers. they’re gone, that part of his life is over, and if he accepted that fact, it would allow him to move on and heal from what he experienced. but he can’t. at the very end of the series, right before anthy leaves ohtori for good, he’s typing away just as diligently as he ever did and, completely oblivious, tells anthy that he’s rewriting the rules of the rose crest, that he’ll be counting on her again. and i didn’t pick up on this until rewatching the episode, but it really just hits you then how utterly stupid he looks, working so hard and speaking so confidently about the upcoming dueling cycles as if any of them are ever going to matter in the slightest. i love anthy’s response to him too; i love the subtle but at the same time so blatant scorn in her words: “you really don’t know what’s happened, do you?” because once again, throughout all this, akio has learned nothing. he hasn’t realized it’s useless, what he’s trying to do; he hasn’t realized all the effort and pain and anguish he’ll cause in people for yet another dueling cycle will never make any difference. he is unable to come to terms with the reality that he will never have his powers as prince dios back. he refuses to move on. 

akio is the coffin of ohtori, wanting to keep others in stagnation and regret. he’s also trapped by the coffin, incapable of maturing past his own stagnation and regret. and it really, really says something that all of the other major characters of the show, who have been in ohtori for far shorter a time than he has, have been able to make visible strides in their growth. anthy, who is the only one comparable to akio in terms of duration at ohtori, revolutionizes her world and leaves. meanwhile akio, as deluded and self-unaware as he is, hasn’t made a single step of progress in all this time. the only thing he does is call in bewildered desperation after anthy as she finally leaves him behind, still totally clueless as to what has happened. 

tldr; i once saw an author say one of her characters represents inertia, in fact he is inertia. i think that’s a spot-on explanation of akio, at least in terms of what he symbolizes in the story. i want to beat him in the dick with a cactus

[eco-lite]

Finally making more progress on the pile of ST books I own but have yet to read. Here’s some good stuff from The Vulcan Academy Murders by Jean Lorrah.

[Image ID: The cover of the book The Vulcan Academy Murders. The background has lots of dark purple tones. In the foreground, Spock stands with a phaser pointed at a Vulcan creature with green skin, a cat-like face, a fin down its back, sharp claws, and a long tail. The creature is hissing down at Spock from a rock. End ID]

First of all, what is going on with this cover? Nothing like this happens in the book.

[Text ID: “Kirk recalled that all male Vulcans were married—had to be—and glanced at Spock. His First Officer, however, was very busy inspecting the almost un-touched wine in his glass.” End ID]

Interesting interesting. 👀

[Text ID: “Kirk had been given Spock’s room (underlined red by me) and McCoy the guest room in Sarek’s house—a house far from anything Kirk would ever have imagined as the home Spock had grown up in. He had envisioned either a sterile, unadorned ‘environment,’ or a castlelike ancestral residence. Instead, the house on the outskirts of ShiKahr was a simple single-family dwelling.” End ID]

This book is way too casual about Kirk sleeping in Spock’s childhood bedroom. Also, there’s no mention of where Spock is sleeping while they’re there???

[Text ID: “He remembered forcing Spock to control his emotions when he was five, and his schoolfellows taunted him for being ‘different.’ Under his father’s tutelage, Spock had refused to cry when the others shut him out of their games, calling him ‘Earther’ and ‘half-breed.’ Amanda had hidden her tears from their son, and Sarek had hidden his anger. Or had he? Perhaps I directed it at my son instead, he realized. He had intended to prepare Spock for whatever lack of acceptance he would face in life. And the message Spock received was that his own father did not accept him as he was, had to mold him into something he deemed acceptable.” End ID]

We love reflecting on our past mistakes. 👏🏼 We love character growth. 👏🏼

[Text ID: “’A computer cannot lie,’ said Spock. ‘Nevertheless, this one is giving false information.’ ‘Why don’t you try playing chess with it?’ came a voice from the doorway. Sarek turned to find Leonard McCoy, bouncing on his toes and grinning.” End ID]

I love them. I can picture this so perfectly.

[Text ID: “’What dost thou know of Surak?’ she asked finally—but her voice spoke more of perplexity than challenge. ‘What everyone knows: he was the founder of Vulcan philosophy. I know he is a personal hero to my friend Spock, the way Abraham Lincoln, from human history, is to me.’” End ID]

Kirk will bring up Abe Lincoln whenever he has a chance. That’s canon now.

[Text ID: “’You are not only anything, Spock. You are more, not less, because of your dual heritage. It is fruitless to wish now that I had made that clearer to you when you were a child.’ ‘You wanted me to be Vulcan.’ ‘That is true,’ Sarek agreed. ‘And you are Vulcan, representative of IDIC in its fullest sense.’ Spock studied his father. ‘You never put it to me that way. The last time you and I spoke as father and son, before I went to Starfleet Academy, you reminded me of how important it was that I think of myself as Vulcan. Do you remember your words, father?’ Sarek remembered. ‘I am Vulcan by birth. Your mother is Vulcan by choice. You are Vulcan by both birth and choice.’ ‘And then I disappointed you by making a different choice.’ Sarek searched his memory, trying to recover the logical reason for what now seemed completely irrational. Finally, he said simply, ‘I was wrong.’” End ID]

Yes! Let’s talk about our feelings! Let’s resolve those daddy issues!

[Text ID: “He went back to his room—Spock’s room, really. Kirk had brought with him a sturdy suit and boots, for Spock had suggested they might go camping in the mountains after the summer heat abated. (Last sentence underlined in red by me.) He put on the boots and the trousers to the suit, but decided the heavy shirt would be far too hot—" End ID]

Spock wanted to take them camping. 🥹

[Text ID: “‘He will recover, though?’ asked Spock. ‘Yeah—you can see him later, Spock,’ said the doctor. ‘He’s gonna be in considerable pain—you’re probably the only person he’ll be able to stand. Your son would’ve made a good doctor,’ he added to Sarek. ‘I don’t know how he does it, but he’s really good with people in pain.’ Spock’s eyebrows shot up at the unexpected compliment from the man Sarek usually saw him trade barbs with. Then Leonard left them to go back to his patient, and Spock turned to Sarek. ‘May I ask you something, Father?’ ‘What is it, Spock?’ ‘When Mother became conscious, you called her…?’ ‘Beloved.’” End ID]

Spock being very concerned about Kirk’s injuries. Bones saying Spock is the only person Kirk would tolerate while in pain. Spock asking his father about expressing love for an outworlder. It’s a lot.

[stinkyturd]

Fever Dreams

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Subaru Kagami/Reader

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Notes: Hello, Hi, Welcome! This is my Subaru fic! As of this post, there are two more chapters up on Archive of Our Own and a fourth in the making! I will try to update often here if there are a lot of you that don't use Ao3! This fic starts out with you, the MC, having mysterious explicit dreams about Subaru, and avoiding him so he doesn't find out!

This was probably the fifth day in a row that you woke up in the middle of the night with a start. And you wish you could say it was from a horrific dream like being chased by a pack of aggressive anomalies, or even materializing into a room full of people in just your underwear.

No, this was much, much, worse.

Ever since you assisted Hotarubi as their inspector, you had become quite close with the house's captain. Initially, you had only spent so much time with Subaru Kagami because you were entrusted with the task of helping mentor Lyca, Subaru's good friend. The weekly check-ins regarding Lyca's progress turned into multi weekly meetups, rather than just text exchanges. Subaru began asking you to join him for lunch, help him with missions, or even study with him. You enjoyed the company, and even began initiating interactions, as well.

But here's where the problem comes in.

The dreams that were so explicit and intense that they tampered with your inner time clock, were in fact lewd and unholy perversions that involved you and none other than Hotarubi's captain, Subaru.

You felt like a total creep. Darkwick Academy's perfect, sweet, honorable third year was being psychologically violated by some outsider that would have no business being there if it weren't for a curse. You had seriously considered avoiding Subaru altogether because the past few days whenever you held eye contact with him for too long, vivid imagery from your dreamworld would resurface in the recesses of your mind. It was almost as if your brain was trying to torture you. You even came up with a half-baked theory that this could be the work of your curse, just to avoid taking responsibility.

Even now, you had accepted Subaru's invite to eat with him for lunch at this picnic bench in the school yard, but you can't look at him in the eye. Your barely touched curry bread that you purchased from Sho's food truck sits in front of you over a bed of napkins. Avoiding looking up, you find particular interest in the granules of breadcrumbs lining the outside of the pastry.

"Lyca sent me a message about picking up more shifts at Rui's bar. He seems to be settling in very well and even making friends, thanks to you. He talks about you all the time, too," Subaru says, as he opens up his Unagi Don that he also grabbed from Sho's food truck.

Idly, you pick up rogue breadcrumbs with your index finger and thumb and crumble them. "Oh, you don't say? I'm glad I was able to help him."

Subaru's eyes follow your movements. "What about you? It hasn't been too much trouble for you to guide him, has it?"

You can feel his eyes lingering on you longer than normal. It wouldn't be long before you'd have to explain yourself. "Oh no, not at all," You reply, pulling off a piece of the pastry before plopping it into your mouth. Your next words are stifled by a mouthful of food. "Lyca's the best, it's no trouble."

If Subaru showed any visible displeasure from your barbaric table manners, you wouldn't know, because you're suddenly looking around the courtyard at nothing in particular.

"(Y/N)... maybe it's just my imagination. Forgive me and correct me if I'm wrong," Subaru starts, cautiously.

You pick the bread up while turned away from him and cram it in your mouth, allowing him to fumble over his words instead of showing verbal interest.

"I just think that maybe... just maybe you've been avoiding me? Like in general, or particularly when it comes to looking at me?" Subaru suggests, his voice raising an octave towards the latter half of his sentence.

When you turn your head to him seconds later, you're suddenly wearing a pair of very densely colored, black sunglasses. Crumbs line the outside of your mouth as you chew vigorously-- less times than you should, before swallowing. "Avoiding you? Naaawh! What makes you say that?"

"Um... well, for starters can you even see through those glasses? They look like a prop."

You could see through them, but just barely. It is probably close to the equivalent of having fifteen percent window tint on a motor vehicle. So, you saw the murky outline of Subaru, but it's a perfect amount of visibility to where you wouldn't start to get that funny feeling in your gut.

"Yeah, I can see crystal clear."

Subaru tents his eyebrows and sighs. "Okay then. How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Mmm, three," You guess.

"...I'm not holding up any."

You lift your glasses up just barely from the bottom to confirm his claim, before dropping them again. "Oh, well I was just messing with you. I was going to say zero! Good one, right? Ha, ha..."

"Did I do something to upset you?" Subaru asks, his voice woefully pitiful.

You wave your hands wildly in the air, emitting an awkward laugh. "No, no! Not at all, I just really have been not doing well with the sun lately. My family has that thing that runs in the family. Whatchyamacallit-- catracks...!"

Subaru stares at you dubiously. "I think you mean cataracts."

"Oh, yup! That's the one," You stand up abruptly in an attempt to escape but end up slamming your knee on the edge of the table. "FUCK...!" You hunch over and cradle your knee in your hand, your sunglasses toppling onto the table in the process.

"(Y/N)...!" Subaru quickly moves over to your side. "Are you alright?"

Mindlessly, you glance up and meet his gaze. The stunningly cute captain is mere inches from your face, his shallow breath tickling your nose. You don't even feel the knee pain anymore, only the heat rising up your neck at the proximity.

Without thinking, you find yourself throwing your palms forward, effectively pushing Subaru away. It wasnt hard enough to knock him on his feet or anything, but the message was clear.

It's too late to take it back. You feel a pang of remorse when you notice the hurt expression on his face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that," You say, fumbling for words.

Subaru folds an arm over his chest in a self-soothing manner, as he looks towards the ground. "No, I shouldn't have gotten so close to you like that. Sorry, that was probably creepy."

Creepy? If he thought that was creepy good thing he hasn't used his stigma and incidentally seen picturesque imagery of himself writhing underneath you, butt naked.

"No, it wasn't creepy. If anything, I'm the total weirdo here, for real!" You counter.

Subaru shakes his head. "Impossible, you're not any sort of weirdo."

You let out a nervous laugh. "I think you would change your mind if you could see the kind of crap I've been thinking on the last few days. I can't elaborate, but..." Clapping your hands together, you bow a bit. "I'm sorry, Subaru. I think we should hang out less. It's not you it's me, believe me."

Subaru stares at you, crestfallen. "What...?"

Finally, you meet his gaze, fighting back your rampant imagination. "I really love hanging out with you. In fact, you have to be my favorite Ghoul resident, and that's exactly why we have to separate for at least a little bit." Until you got your hormones under control, anyways. You didn't want to put these feelings on Subaru, nor did you have time for them. You had a curse to break, after all.

Subaru's lips press into a thin line, and he almost looks-- frustrated? "Sorry, but can you give me a better reason than that? Otherwise, I will have no choice but to think it's my fault, regardless of what you say."

You rehearsed this conversation in your head before, but you hadn't planned on him being this assertive. So, you made up some bullshit on the spot.

"Study. I need to study for the quarterly exams next week! We have been hanging out so much, I'm always tempted to call you over to waste time instead of preparing for the exams. That's all!"

Subaru's expression doesn't get any brighter at the revelation. In fact, you doubt he buys it. "Okay. So, studying together is off the table?"

"Well, yes! Because I'm terrible at multitasking. I'll be too distracted, I usually study alone," You explain clumsily. "We can hang out after exams though, I promise."

"Yes, we should." Subaru smiles, but you can tell its forced by his eyes. "Should I avoid texting you too, then?"

"No, texting is fine! Anyways, I'll see you later, okay?" You pick up your glasses and make your way back to the building for your next class. Pivoting slightly, you wave back at him. "See you!"

Subaru returns the gesture half-heartedly. "Yes, until next time."

Some days pass and much to your dismay, you were still having the obscene dreams. Out of some sort of guilty conscious, you would always wake up prematurely whenever you would realize the dream wasn't actually real. And then you would have trouble falling back asleep.

You sat at a table in Darkwick's library with a thick textbook opened in front of you. You really did need to study for next week's exams, but you could barely keep your eyes open. Not only that, but you were also having to read over the same paragraph way too many times in order to finally comprehend it when you did have your eyes fully open. This endeavor was looking to be more and more fruitless by the minute. Maybe the only cure for your exhaustion was tall cup of plain brewed blonde roast coffee.

As if your mind was read, a disposable coffee cup is placed in front of you. Your eyes dart upwards to meet your savior.

"You look like you're barely staying awake. I came by earlier to say hi, but you were sleeping on your textbook," Lucas says, shooting you a sympathetic look.

"For me...?" You ask, staring up at the sun-kissed student as if he were the reincarnation of Jesus himself.

Lucas Iaughs airily. "Yes, it's all yours. May I sit?"

You nod, grabbing the cup and taking a tentative sip of the piping hot beverage. It was strong and deliciously bitter, just what you needed. "You're seriously a life saver, Lucas."

The Frostheim student pulls out a chair next to you and settles himself in. "It was no problem. I had planned on getting pastries from the coffee stand, anyways. What are you studying?"

"Ecoregion Field Study," You bite out, miserably.

Lucas winces at that. "Ah, seems boring."

"It is," You agree. "Are you studying for exams, too?"

Lucas nods and unzips his messenger bag. He pulls out a folder, a pen, and a textbook titled 'Anomaly Cell Biology'.

"Hey! You're with (Y/N) and you didn't invite me?!" A whiney familiar voice practically screeches from behind Lucas. A blonde mop of hair comes into view as the source of the ruckus barrels towards the both of you.

"Kaito, keep it down...!" Lucas scolds in a hushed whisper. "We are in a library."

Kaito plants his own messenger bag firmly on the table and sits across from you. The blonde young man glares daggers at his housemate but obeys his request. "Well, I wouldn't be so loud, if I had been given a little heads up. You're just hogging this cutie to yourself!" Kaito turns to look at you with a wide grin, but his face immediately falters. "Woah, you look uh... tired."

"Oh? What gave that away?" You ask, sarcastically.

"Those wicked dark circles and messy hair. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought those were a black eyes," Kaito replies, a bit too honestly, in your opinion.

Lucas shoots Kaito a glare and not so subtly kicks him from underneath the table.

"YEOWCH...!" Despite being the least street-smart student in Darkwick, the blonde could take hints. "Uh, what I meant to say is wow you look super hot, (Y/N)! Like a million bucks! Plus, there's plenty of baddies with dark circles. You ever read that manga 'Death Note'?"

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, I have, and you don't have to apologize. I know I look beat. I haven't been able to sleep well for a while."

Kaito rests his chin on the top of his bag and eyes you, curiously. "How come? Too many missions?"

You shake your head. "No, the missions aren't the issue."

"No one has been giving you trouble, have they?" Lucas asks, his gaze hardening.

"They better not, we will send Jin after 'em," Kaito adds.

"Nope, nope, nothing like that either. I've brought this on myself," You say twirling your coffee cup in place with your fingertips.

"The suspense is killing me, spill!" Kaito demands.

You debate if you should tell them. After all, they were your first friends at Darkwick and they probably know the most about you out of all of the students, besides Subaru. The Frostheim house in general held a special place in your heart and even their icy captain had become fond of you. Plus, if anyone could empathize on this topic, it was probably Kaito.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. "Okay, completely hypothetical question. If someone was having pervy dreams about a close friend that is probably-- definitely not into them like that, should it effect the friendship?"

Kaito's eyes widen. It's obvious the topic threw him through a loop. "Uhhh, depends. Does the other person know it's happening?"

"In this hypothetical, no," You reply.

Kaito shrugs. "Oh, then who cares? What they don't know won't hurt em!"

Lucas tosses Kaito a dubious look. "Well... maybe. But it seems kind of unfair to harbor those kinds of feelings for someone when it's not mutual. If even when you sleep you think romantically about them, then won't that eventually reflect in your interactions later on?"

Kaito scoffs. "Who says its romantic, maybe they're just super cute? I have had loads of dreams about people I knew, but I didn't creep on em after! Besides, you can't control dreams."

Lucas rolls his eyes. "Yeah, but I assume we are imagining a scenario with someone, unlike you, that is interested in one person exclusively. Right, (Y/N)?" The brown-haired man turns to look at you for confirmation.

You nod pensively as you consider their input. "Yeah, just one person."

Lucas eyes you warily. "Some guy friend isn't perving on you, is he? And it's not Kaito?"

"WHAT? How could it be me? I never admitted to any such dreams!" Kaito squawks indignantly.

"No," You groan, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand. "It's me. I'm the lecherous creep."

Kaito's mouth drops open, as far as it could possibly go. You can tell he tries to keep his next words as quiet as he possibly could, considering the librarian had been glaring at him from her desk since he sat down. "Who about? If it's me, the feelings mutual-- please be my girlfriend!"

Lucas looks at Kaito with an expression that could only be described as pained disappointment. "Dude..."

You shake your head, not bothered by the blonde man's predictable outburst. "No, it's not you, Kaito."

"You don't have to tell us if you don't feel comfortable," Lucas insists, considerate as ever.

"Speak for yourself! I have to know my rival, so I can learn all their weaknesses," Kaito counters. "Ahem... if you feel like revealing, that is."

"It's Subaru," You admit, readily.

Lucas blinks in surprise. "Hotarubi's Captain?"

Kaito looks a little lost, looking between the two of you. "Uh, he's the super polite guy that has the pretty face, right? Used to be an actor?"

You both nod.

"Oh, no wonder you like him," Kaito pouts, bitterly. "I can try to make myself look cute like that, if that's what you like."

Like him?

You hadn't thought about it plainly like that, but you never really had dreams of that nature before. Nor had you really liked many people throughout your lifetime. It would be fair to say you had a crush on Subaru. You'd get butterflies when he gave his most genuine smiles, and you thought about him all the time. His pretty face was so ingrained in your mind you could probably paint it without a reference. And you really admired how positive he could be, and the way he saw the best in everyone. You also loved how he responded so descriptively in text and made sure to acknowledge every little thing you'd send.

"He's a very gentle person," You say, offering some insight. "He is very cute, but I think why I may be feeling this way is a conglomeration of things. There's no point in thinking too much of it. I plan on avoiding him until this feeling passes."

"Aren't you sort of close to him?" Lucas asks, worriedly. "In that case, is that really the best way to go about it?"

"Well, there's no way he thinks the same way about me. I already hear from Taiga and Edward about how plain I am, I'm sure he thinks the same. If it's probably not mutual I may as well avoid it," You state matter-of-factly.

"That's a more pacifist attitude than I would have expected from you," Lucas remarks. "But if you really think it's fine..."

"Do you need a hug?" Kaito asks, giving you a sympathetic look.

"I wouldn't hate that," You say.

Kaito stands up and leans over the table wrapping his arms around your head in an awkward embrace. You felt some level of oxytocin production from the interaction, despite your head being craned in an unnatural direction. No one had attempted to hug you since you ended up at Darkwick, so this small amount of platonic contact was actually comforting.

You relax and exhale tiredly. "Thanks, Kaito."

"My pleasure--" Kaito starts, but abruptly cuts himself off. You feel his form separate from you.

Looking up, you see Subaru gripping the collar of Kaito's uniform. This was probably the first time that you've ever seen the gentle captain outright scowling. Haku stood behind him, his expression as surprised as yours probably was.

"H-Hey...!" Kaito protests, pulling himself away from Subaru's grip. "It was consensual, I swear!"

The Hotarubi Captain glowered menacingly at the blonde, not saying a word. Kaito held his ground for a few seconds, until his face faltered into a panicked expression.

"EEEEEEE...! I'M SORRY, DON'T HURT MEEE!!!" Kaito spins on his heel and runs for the exit.

"...We are definitely getting kicked out," Lucas remarks with a groan.

"That's the maddest I've ever seen you, Soobie. What gives?" Haku asks, his playful tone contradicting the perturbed look on his face.

Subaru doesn't acknowledge his question, instead turning his full attention to you. "I thought you said you had planned on studying for the exams without distraction."

You gawk at him, at a loss for words. This was the first time you ever saw Subaru so angry, not to mention forward. "Y-Yeah, I did! Honest."

Subaru's eyes are practically glaring at you. It's evident that he doesn't believe you right now. "Yet here you are with Frostheim."

"It's not what it looks li--"

"I'm sorry. Kaito and I kind of barged ourselves in on her study session. I didn't realize she didn't want company." Lucas pulls through with a save.

Haku throws an arm over Subaru's shoulders. "Relax. She looks exhausted, you think she was having a shin dig? What's the big deal anyways?"

Subaru begins to appear conflicted, then relaxes into a contrite expression. "I'm... sorry. I don't know what came over me. Excuse me," He bows politely, and turns to leave himself.

"H-Hey, wait...!" You call out, but he only begins walking more briskly, until he's out the door.

Haku folds his arms over his chest. "Well... that was something."

"Looks like your plan wasn't a good one, after all," Lucas remarks to you, rubbing salt in the wound.

Planting your face on your book, you groan audibly. "That was so stupid, stupid, stupid."

"Mind filling me in? I'm going to need some context if I'm going to calm him down," Haku says gently.

"Lucas, please." Your vague request comes out muffled, but still discernible.

Lucas clears his throat, picking up on what you're throwing down. "Uh, she's been having dirty dreams about your captain, so she's ignoring him, because she feels guilty...? Is that right?"

You nod as much as possible from your stiff position. "...To put it simply."

"Oh..." Haku manages, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Is it bad enough that you can't talk to him?"

You lift your face just barely meeting Haku's gaze. "I see images of it all the time, and the dreams come every night. I think I've got a double curse. I can't even look at him without being reminded of it. I'm a filthy, filthy pervert. Seriously, put me out of my misery. Subaru is too pure to be tainted by my vile presence."

Haku snickers. "Don't you think you're being a little too hard on yourself? And to be honest, it's not really that farfetched to blame an anomaly. There are some that tamper with emotions, you know. I get being embarrassed about dirty dreams, but if they're as frequent and vivid as you say it's possible it's supernatural."

Your voice lightens at that. "F-For real? Are you sure?"

Haku nods. "Yes, in fact I'm concerned. You stay alone in that cathedral, don't you?"

"I do."

"Do you ever feel like there's another presence around? And when did these dreams start?" Haku asks.

You tent your eyebrows. "Um... I'm not sure if there's another presence around. The dreams usually end up waking me very quickly because I feel guilty. It started a week ago."

"When you're about to wake up, do you feel anything else before you're about to regain consciousness? Like something that is restrictive?"

You blink, sitting fully upright. "Hey, now that you mention it, I'm pretty sure I felt a weight on my chest. Then I forced myself up and opened my eyes. I never see anything in the room with me, obviously."

Haku furrows his eyebrows with a look of concern. "(Y/N), I'm eighty-five percent sure an anomaly is messing with you. And if it's the one I'm thinking of, it would explain a lot. You're cursed with something quite serious, so you may attract petty creatures like this because of the negative energy that comes with being marked."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, you find yourself grinning from ear to ear. "Wow, so I'm not a complete lecherous pervert."

Lucas shoots you a tired look. "You'd rather be trailed by an anomaly, than feel like a pervert? You're seriously something else."

Haku shakes his head. "I wouldn't be celebrating just yet. The anomaly I'm thinking of takes on the form of someone you harbor feelings for in your dreams, it's not just random."

Your giddy expression falls as quickly as it came. "Damn it, seriously?"

"You both are my friends, so I'm looking out for your best interest. If you don't want Subaru to become an emotional inconsolable wreck, you should just be honest with him. I've never seen him act like that before." Haku glances wistfully in the direction his captain left, before shifting his gaze back to you. "I know it's easier said than done, but running away is not the solution here."

As much as you want to object, you know he's right. Initially, when you decided to ignore him, you didn't think he would care as much as he did. "Yeah, I get it. I don't want him to resent me either." Letting out an exasperated sigh, you close your book and lean down to stuff it in your bag that's on the floor. "There's no way I can concentrate on studying right now, I'm going home."

Haku waves his hands in protest. "Wait, I don't think you should do that. At least, don't sleep there. We need to figure out what's going on. If you're alone so far away, you'll be in danger."

You zip up your bag and toss him a puzzled look. "Well, what do you suggest I do?"

"There are probably extra rooms at the Hotarubi house. You should stay until we get this sorted out," Haku insists, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"Uh, you sure that's okay?" You ask, uncertainty laced in your voice.

Haku taps away at his phone's keyboard. "Yes, I will tell Subaru and he will understand."

"You should listen to him," Lucas adds, his expression serious. "This anomaly could be pretty dangerous."

Surrendering to the idea, you nod in agreement. "Fine, but I'm going to get some stuff from my place first."

"That's fine. I'll meet you there, okay?" Haku looks up from his screen with an encouraging smile.

"Hey, wait. You're not texting him the details of this anomaly, right?" You ask, in a panic.

Haku chuckles and shakes his head. "Don't worry, I'm being as vague as possible. I wouldn't do that. That's something you need to tell him yourself."

Exhaling in relief, you stand up with your bag. "Good. I'll get ready then I'll head to Hotarubi."

"See you later, (Y/N). Good luck with everything," Lucas says with a smile.

You wave him off, before heading for the door. "Thanks, you're the best!"

Later that evening, you find yourself wandering the halls of the Hotarubi's Shoin-zukuri* styled mansion. Haku hadn't specified exactly where he would be and you made the mistake of not texting him ahead of time, instead sending one message notifying your arrival just moments ago. The vice-captain wasn't one to be latched to his phone, so you decided to make a guess at his location. Your first arrival here, you met up with Haku, Zenji, and Subaru in the main dining hall. It had been a while since you had last been here, so you did your best to retrace your steps from that day. Just like you had remembered it was pouring rain, but thankfully you were shielded by a protruding roof.

Walking the narrow porch, you look into the garden, watching the droplets of rain fall past the beautiful purple wisteria growing along the building's surface. The scene was peaceful and serene, very fitting for the members of the Hotarubi House. Particularly Subaru, considering he used to be a Kabuki actor.

Once, you made it to the main dining area, you find the sliding door already peeled back.

"Oh my, an anomaly is following Miss (Y/N)...?!" Zenji's flamboyant voice yells. You easily spot him sitting on the floor at a tea table with Subaru and Haku across from him.

"It's just speculation, but I have good reason to believe that to be the case," Haku says.

Subaru looks down at his lap, worry etched on his delicate features. He's wearing his stylized purple and white kimono, with the right sleeve peeled off, revealing a teal undershirt. Subaru looks so pretty and poised in the getup it makes your heart skip a beat.

"Well then, it makes sense for her to stay here. She can stay in the room next to mine for the time being." As soon as the words come out of Subaru's mouth, his eyes flick to meet yours. He must have used his sixth sense to detect you ogling over him.

"(Y/N), you're here." Haku acknowledges your presence with a toothy grin.

"(Y/N)...!" Zenji shouts theatrically, dragging out the vowels in your name. "Oh, how I've missed you so!"

You smile at them and approach the table. "Hey, guys. Sorry if you were waiting awhile, Haku. I was gathering my things to last me the next few days."

"Not at all, you're just in time. Sit!"

Unwittingly, you opt to sit on the cushion closest to you, which happens to be on the end of the table right next to Subaru. His floral perfume fills your lungs the second your butt hits the seat. He must have gotten over the events from earlier, because he looks at you with painstakingly sweet expression. Heat trickles up your neck as your heart threatens to explode out of your chest.

"Would you like some warabi mochi?" Subaru picks up a piece from the plate in front of him, offering the jelly-like desert to you from his fingertips.

An intrusive thought comes to you to inhale that thing right off his fingers, but you think better of it. "S-Sure, ha ha..." Your hand is practically shaking as it reaches out for the mochi in his hand. Your fingertips connect for the briefest of seconds, but you manage to take it from him and toss it in your mouth.

"So, Haku tells me you've been tormented by repetitive dreams! You poor thing," Zenji coos, giving you a sympathetic look.

"Yeah, it's been interfering with my sleep," You say in between chews.

"No worries, we will get it sorted out. Exams are in a few days, too. I can try to talk to the Chancellor about getting you an extension, if you need it," Haku offers as he rests his cheek against his knuckles, focusing his attention on you.

You shake your head. "I'm prepared enough to get a decent grade. I usually try to get close to a perfect score, but if that doesn't happen, it's not the end of the world."

"If you insist." Haku takes a sip of a ceramic mug filled with what you assume is hot tea, before continuing. "I was thinking we could put a baby monitor in your room. It sounds silly, but that way we will know if something is going on in your sleep. I also prepared some Omamori* amulets and incense for your room, so tonight is peaceful. You look exhausted, so I figured we could try to bait this thing tomorrow."

"Do you think it will stop the dreams for tonight?" You ask eagerly, clenching your fists in your lap.

Haku nods. "In theory."

"What kind of dreams plague you? Perhaps I can regale you a tale to rid you of your fears!" Zenji offers, brimming with enthusiasm.

"Er... well, uh," You stutter out, not daring to look anywhere in Subaru's vicinity.

Haku quickly comes to your rescue, like the angel he is. "Hey, I'm pretty sure that kind of thing is bad luck, Zenji. If an anomaly is messing with her head, it's best not to stir up negative emotions."

"How ridiculous I am! You're absolutely correct. My apologies Miss (Y/N)!" Zenji bows his head in your direction, with his palms together.

You laugh a bit, waving your hands dismissively. "No worries, it's no big deal."

"And you probably overheard, but Subaru said you could take the room next to his. Isn't that right, Soobie?" Haku smiles in his captain's direction, but you watch his face transition into a look of concern. "You okay, buddy?"

Tentatively, you turn your head in Subaru's direction once more. The Hotarubi captain was stiff as a board, staring at his hands in a state of shock. If you weren't mistaken, his cheeks were flushed pink as well.

After a pregnant pause, Subaru slowly speaks. "Yes... I'm okay." He breaks out of his stupor and gives Haku a weak smile. "Sorry. Could you run that last thing you said by me again?"

Haku quirks a brow with a questioning look but continues anyways. "Oh, I was just telling (Y/N) about her staying in the room by yours."

"Right." Subaru turns to you, forcing a thin-lipped smile. "Yes, you will be staying by me. The room used to be for my study, but I separated it with a partition. In case the need ever arose for an extra room."

"Oh, thanks so much!" You say.

"No need to thank me. Your safety is first and foremost." Subaru suddenly gets to his feet. "In fact, if you'll excuse me, I'll go ahead and prepare it for you."

"Oh, sure..."

Haku glances at his plate of barely touched mochi. "You're not gonna finish that?"

"Oh, no that's alright, you two can split it. I'm afraid my eyes were bigger than my stomach." Subaru bows and exits the room.

Once his footsteps down the hall became imperceptible, Haku speaks up. "(Y/N)... did you touch him?"

The image of your hand making contact with his in the mochi exchange stirs in your memory. His stigma must have picked up and seen something in your memory it shouldn't have. Because of your current predicament, you expect the worse.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. "Haku, all those talismans for my room? I don't need them. I decided, why wait for my curse? I can just let the anomaly take me out in my sleep."

Zenji places his hands on his face, his expression mortified. "Oh my! Dear (Y/N), it's far too soon to speak of death-- we are working on a cure!"

Haku clenches his teeth, his expression pained in your stead. "Well, this isn't the end of the world, but it's going to be awkward. And no, you need to keep those in your room."

You pinch the bridge of your nose, cringing inwardly. "If anything is world ending for me, it's gotta be this."

"I must be missing something," Zenji remarks, confusion etched on his pale features. "Care to elaborate on my behalf?"

Haku looks to you for approval, you just wave to signal the go ahead. The one person that wasn't supposed to find out already knows, who gives a shit at this point?

"So, the anomaly following (Y/N), I speculate to be a Lidéric*," Haku starts, eliciting a look of recognition on Zenji's face.

"Oh, yes! I know of those scheming creatures. They torment their victims with erotic dreams of a person that have affection for. They even suck blood while the victim slumbers, slowly draining the life out of them night by night!" Zenji explains.

"Right. Speaking of, have you seen any strange marks on your body, (Y/N)?"

"Actually... now that you mention it, I do remember seeing a weird bruise on my shoulder. I get bruises all the time, so I thought nothing of it." You reflect on when you noticed it a few days ago. It was in a weird spot, so if it looked like some sort of a bite mark, you wouldn't know.

Zenji scoots over to you. "May have a look?"

"Yeah, sure." Removing your jacket, you unbutton a few of the buttons on your blouse and peel the collar of your shirt back far enough for him to see it.

"That does appear to be a bite mark fitting of its nature," Zenji comments, his tone grim.

Of its nature? "What do you mean?"

"The creature appears as a very repulsive naked chicken with jagged teeth," The otherwordly student explains, returning to his seat. "They tend to prey on people closer to death, and with your curse you're an easy target."

You gulp, pulling your shirt back up. "...That sounds pretty gnarly."

"You will be okay," Haku promises with a gentle smile. "We won't let anything happen to you."

Zenji hums in agreement. "As you know, I don't sleep, so I will be on careful watch!"

Your heart swells at their willingness to help. Never would you have thought before Darkwick, people labeled as 'Ghouls' would be the most attentive and caring people to ever come in your life. When you were first cursed you didn't see it that way, but this all must be a blessing in disguise.

Soaking up the mushy feeling welling inside, you express gratitude. "I seriously love you guys."

"I love you too!" Zenji squeals, clearly giddy from the display of affection.

Haku grins, grabbing one of Subaru's abandoned mochis. "We've got your back," He reassures again, before plopping the chewy square in his mouth.

Suddenly, Zenji slaps a fist in the palm of his hand, as if he remembered something. "So your dreams, they're about..." Glancing over to the door Subaru exited from, he connects the dots. "Oh... that is quite the pickle."

"Tell me about it," You grumble, grabbing another mochi for yourself.

"Not to worry, I don't think Subaru minds as much as you think," Zenji insists.

"He is probably more embarrassed than anything," Haku agrees, washing down the mochi with another swig of tea. "His stigma is sore spot for him, so I bet you he feels guilty for having seen it in the first place."

"And I feel guilty to have embarrassed him. Now he's going to think I'm a dirty pervert," You counter.

Haku shakes his head. "No, he's pretty studious and perceptive. If he saw your dream he probably already has an idea of what's after you. That being said, the Lidéric doesn't use fantasies of just random people."

"...So he probably knows I have a crush on him."

Haku smiles sympathetically. "It's more likely than not."

You clench your teeth anxiously at the revelation. "Well, I guess that's better than being seen as a gross weirdo."

"Before you know it, it will all be back to normal. Anyways, I gotta get ready for bed. I can show you were the bathrooms are if you need to shower, too." Haku gets to his feet and takes the now empty plate from the table.

You nod. "Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

"Good night, my dear! I'll be around if you need me," Zenji waves at you with his fingertips.

"Goodnight, Zenji."

Later that night, after you had showered and brushed your teeth, you made your way to Subaru's room. You had put on a pair of red, silk, button-up jammies and fuzzy socks. The traditional wooden floors were too cold to just to go barefoot. When you reach Subaru's door, you knock tentatively on it with your free hand that wasn't securing your bag.

A few moments later, the beige door slides open and you are greeted by Subaru's dazzling face. "Oh, (Y/N)! It's so good to see you. Come in."

Subaru steps aside, shutting the door after you. His room is pretty spacious. A massive white bed is centered in the middle of the room. It lays flat to the ground, supported by a thin wooden lining that matches the traditional aesthetic of the mansion. To the side of it there is a small black tea table with three white zaisu* style seats surrounding it. The back wall of the room is a large paper sliding door that likely leads out to the garden.

Subaru walks towards the right side of the room, where a sliding partition stood that was about a third of the walls size and opens it up. You approach, examining the quaint space. Inside is a comfy padded futon, a standing lamp, and a small dresser.

"Thanks so much, it's perfect," You say, your lips blooming into an appreciative smile. Walking inside, you set your bag down and sit crisscross on the futon.

"It's my pleasure. I'm sorry I don't have anything bigger for you, I'm afraid a few of our rooms are being remodeled. We have had some issues with the pipes."

You giggle at his fussing and shake your head. "No, I really like it. Plus, it's kinda like a sleepover since we are right next to eachother."

Subaru's face flushes at the comment and he averts his gaze. "Yes, I suppose it is."

If he hadn't just found out your big secret you would be far more inclined to tease him about seeming embarrassed. In fact, that's probably the only reason he's reacting that way, you figure.

"I wanted to say, I'm sorry about my behavior earlier. It was entirely inappropriate, I'll have to apologize to Kaito later, too," Subaru says, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Hey, seriously no worries! Kaito gets ribbed all the time for his antics, I'm sure he didn't take it to heart. Plus, I can see why you'd be annoyed at me. I've been a jerk with ignoring you."

Subaru shifts in place, idly toying with his signature purple earring. It was obvious he was choosing his next words carefully. "Um... so that was because..."

"Ugh... you saw it didn't you?" You ask, your face turning beet red.

"I'm sorry," Subaru squeaks out.

You pull your knees up to your chest and bury your face in them to avoid eye contact. "It's seriously not your fault. I'm the one whos sorry. I'm surprised you were even okay with letting me in here after that."

"Why would I not let you in here because of that? The anomaly is the only one to blame for that." Subaru's voice is sticky sweet like honey and you seriously didn't feel like you deserved his vindication. After all you wouldn't be having those dreams if he wasn't so darn cute.

"You're too nice, Subaru," You mutter, your head still buried in your knees. "Anyway, hopefully once this thing gets blasted I'll stop feeling so weird when I talk to you. I've felt super guilty this last week or so that this has been happening."

There is a pause, long enough that you almost muster the courage to lift your head up, but then he speaks again. "So, you still feel weird now? Even knowing it's all fabricated by a cryptid?"

"Yeah. Maybe you haven't realized, but you're like destiny level cute. Seeing your face combined with these images has seriously messed up my rhythm. The Lyric or whatever may be a perverted demon, but so am I."

"...It's Lidéric."

"Tomayto, tohmato," You quip back. Making a point not to look in his direction, you peel back the comforter on the futon and slip under it. You settle on your side facing the wall. "Anywho, I'll just try to get to sleep before my face gets any redder and I burn up in flames."

Subaru doesn't reply to that, but you hear him walk further into the room. You almost tilt your head up to see what he's doing, but then you hear a match light up, and seconds later the scent of burning incense fills your nostrils.

"This should help ward that thing off, at least for tonight. Also..."

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you feel a weight next to you on futon. Subaru leans over you and slips a Omamori talisman in your hand, then closes his bare fingers over yours with reckless abandon.

Your heart thrums wildly in your chest at the contact. You wonder if he saw more just by doing that and if he did, was that his intention? Either way you're not sure if you find this arousing, or if you're ready to shit your pants at the idea of him seeing more than he probably bargained for.

Subaru moves his hand from yours, but several moments pass and you don't feel him get up to leave. Daringly, you shift on your back, and glance up. The both of you instantaneously lock eyes and your stomach flips. His porcelain smooth skin is still flushed a delectable shade of pink and he gazes at you with half-lidded, timid eyes.

"Would you hate me if I tried something?" Subaru murmurs softly.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

You push out a nervous strangled laugh, your throat more dry than usual. "Try what exactly? The answer is no, anyways."

"That's good," Subaru says as he moves to hover over you, his palms caging you in.

Holy shit.

Your eyes dart subconsciously to his pretty petal pink lips. There's no way he was going to...?

Before you can even blink, his mouth is on yours. His lips are softer than you could have ever anticipated and the contact immediately leaves heat coiling tortuously in your lower half. The kiss is chaste, his lips hold your upper lip captive for brief moment before relinquishing its freedom back to you. When he pulls himself back a distance, he stares at you with a pensive expression.

A soft whine escapes your lips at the loss of contact. You're so enraptured by him you forget to be embarrassed.

"Sorry," Subaru near whispers, but he doesn't look it. "We should stop here."

You don't have the will power to argue, as your brain short circuited the moment he sat on the bed with you. You watch him lift himself up and then get to his feet. He moves to the lamp and switches it off.

"Keep that talisman with you, okay? And let me know if you need anything. Good night, (Y/N)."

"N-Night, Subaru..."

Subaru exits the room, sliding the door closed behind him.

Shoin-zukuri: Old school style of Japanese residential architecture that forms the basis of today's traditional-style Japanese house.

Omamori: Japanese talisman used to ward away spirits.

Lidéric: A demon of Hungarian origin that is a vampire-like incubus.

Zaisu: A Japanese chair with no back, or legs.

[sissytrans-world]

PRETTY SISSY ACADEMY

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