#I might have used what it's made from perhaps but it's made from me in that state of mind

[thetadispatcher]

The RK900 gave him a suspicious look, deciding he'd show some of his internal emotions to see what reaction he'd get from the human. He felt showing a little would help him get a better read of Bishop, and exactly what he wanted from his attempts to upset him.

"Possibly, I wouldn't know as I don't have much to base it on. The only siblings I've interacted with are an android and a human, and two half siblings." And he felt basing anything on Gavin's behavior would be pointless, his partner wasn't a good tool for learning as he seemed to have behaviors that only applied to him.

"Wouldn't be the first time, and I doubt it's far from the last time any government body will do that." Hugh said with a roll of his eyes, he wasn't excited to see how the military would handle it once they found out. He knew it would just be a bunch of lies and finger pointing, not them trying to use the situation to look good for anyone who was pro android. They'd likely find it wasn't worth it to take that angle for the situation as there wasn't enough humans like that to make it worth it.

"I did send him their way, that was the only task I could think to give him." Dan had sent Kelvin to help box up whatever toys the group had picked out, after he'd asked the other androids if there was anything they might need his help with.

"I'm sure he'd appreciate any help that she can offer with his memory issues, I have noticed he does seem a little upset when he's forgotten something he's learned." Kelvin seemed the most upset by his memory loss then anyone else, they'd just accepted that they would have to reteach the android certain things and that he wasn't deleting things on purpose, so there was no use getting upset with him.

"I don't think that thought cross their mind, and if it did, they likely didn't want to explain why they had sold him." Brent had been a gift, not something the studio had ordered, so they likely didn't have to explain why he'd been sold off after they'd pretended to appreciate the gesture.

"He's just up in the garage." Most of the industrial units hung out in the garage, he suspected it was due to the environment being more of what they were accustomed to, as many had never stepped foot into a house so it was new territory for them.

"I have to talk to the construction units anyways." Dan explained as he lead the way to the garage, through the door that connected to two buildings.

A bunch of male and female androids were standing around talking happily and laughing, well some were working on various projects in different sections of the garage.

Dan walked over to the group that was gathered around a car listening to a far younger looking male android explain something in a heavily accented voice. He turned to look at the PL600 as he finished and the group dispersed to do whatever he'd instructed them to do. "Break somethin'?" The android asked with a chuckled, his smile widening at the annoyed look Dan gave him.

"Perhaps, you looking to be next?" The PL600 replied, knowing the other wouldn't take the threat seriously or be offended by it. "Not right now, but I'll let ya know if I change my mind." The other responded cheerfully, clearly enjoying the banter.

The android leaned onto the car jack he'd been holding onto as he looked Rook over. "Now you I don't recognize, name's Ellis." He paused as Dan said something to him using their link. "I don't go by anything else, in case ya thought I renamed myself like Brent. Comin' up with names is hard, and I'm fine with the one I got. Suits me jus' fine." He explained now that he knew why they had come to see him.

"Yeah, I got myself thrown in the junkyard 'cause apparently I wasn't the 'hot seller' my owner thought I'd be. He was wrong a lot, but I' glad I don't have to deal with 'im anymore. Hard to miss a man who felt the need to correct me, like I didn't know how to do the thing I was made for." He rolled his eyes as he recalled the man who'd been his owner, there wasn't much he could say that was nice about him and he wasn't about to try.

"I'm fine with people talkin' to me 'bout who I was modeled after an' stuff, don't bother me. Or other video games, old ones really. Like Jazzpunk, that's an interestin' one."

It was difficult to read Bishop when he could maintain his usual frowny look regardless of the circumstances. His android counterpart specifically chose not to show a greater range of emotions, despite being more open about them, but the agent had spent several decades pretty much surgically removing his.

There was no reason for him to stick around to play a card game and chat when he could be off helping with important research back at the base. But since going back currently wasn't an option, a usually well hidden side of him was beginning to show as he specifically went out of his way to bother Nines.

He couldn't do otherwise. He had to antagonize the other person in the room who was keeping him from having full control of the exchange.

"That's what they all say." At least it was entertaining enough to keep him from trying to find enrichment by starting a fight.

"At this point, all the military can do is hide its involvement in case there is an investigation." He would know. He had done that plenty of times.

"Yes, you can ask Willow to give it a shot." Rook replied, "She might not have a long conversation with him, but she might be able to give you some more information on Kelvin or the way he thinks. It kinda sounds like he's trying to save the stuff you're teaching him on bad sectors of his memory. Maybe she can do something about that."

It was likely that Willow was still listening in on the conversation, but she found showing up with a solution to somebody's problems unprompted could feel a bit condescending. The best way to do this was to inquire her directly.

"That sucks. But at least they didn't start selling him around like a rare collectible." She would make sure to not bring the topic up with Brent though. He deserved to be treated like he was his own person. "Sure, I'd like to meet this other guy."

It was better than getting chased around by mutants.

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 15 - The Chariot

summary : fiora hosts a party during which reader starts feeling all sorts of new things. between game strategies and open heart conversations, things are starting to look brighter

content warnings : none, werewolf (aka mafia), seven minutes in heaven, heart to heart conversation, omg they're touching hands, jealous viktor if you squint

word count : 14.8k

author's note : oof, biggest chap so far! we've officially exceeded the epic length in terms of wordcount, and the slowburn is finally starting to spark a bit hihi. i'm scared y'all will get bored with the game parts OOPSIE but yea i hope y'all will like it nevertheless!

proofread the pretty boy @oneoftheextras

masterlist．．discord ．．playlist．．my ko-fi

The rest of your stay went much better than you could have imagined. You were undertaking visits, each more friendly and educational than the last, discovering customs and foods, and having a great time that would leave good memories in their wake.

Like when Sky recited phrases in a strong Demacian accent to you, giving credit to Demacia and its imposing stature, or when Jayce made a fool of himself by pronouncing ‘croum de la cram’ wrong again while eating a cream puff in front of a waiter.

Fiora had seemed to slow down her charms towards Viktor on a grand scale, although she still gave him the nickname ‘Vikkie’, which made him roll his eyes to the sky as he searched for you and uttered ‘kill me’ with mute lips.

You always smiled at him when this happened, amused, his eyes resting on you, making you feel all odd. As the days went by, despite the fact that Fiora stayed largely with him and you with Garen, you couldn't help looking for him, lowering your gaze or pretending to look away whenever his eyes crossed yours.

As another day out came to an end and you found yourself in bed, lights out and ready to sleep, you were thinking about it for a long time.

There was this strange urge growing inside you, and you couldn't work out what it was. You kept feeling the heat on the back of your neck as well as on your cheeks as you thought back to all the moments of your close proximity. And that warmth in your belly, that strange, light, fuzzy sensation that persisted in his presence. Why did you feel that way?

Perhaps you were allergic to something Viktor had on him, and you were having a physical reaction to it? 

When you had drunk his coffee where his lips had rested, your whole body had warmed up in the same way after all. He didn't seem to apply any lip balm or add anything to his coffee that might have caused you to have such a reaction, so you ruled that out.

Did he have a particular perfume whose ingredients made you react badly? You remembered the masquerade and his coat, and although it didn't leave any physical traces on you, it did leave slightly stronger inner impressions.

In the wood of his cane, perhaps? Maybe the varnish of the wood or the metal of the knob gave you a bad reaction. But you'd hardly ever used it, the rare occasions being when you'd hit Tyler with it, and when you'd handed it to him after he'd picked you up from your fall in the library - even if some of your symptoms had started at that moment.

Or maybe you were just homesick, maybe the air or the food made you react badly, maybe the petricite was more unpleasant than you thought. However, this idea would have meant suggesting that you had an arcane source inside you, and if that were the case, it would have been pointless since it had never saved you from anything where it could have proved useful.

You replayed the moment of the museum over and over in your mind, the feeling of realisation that he had drawn you towards him with a deft movement of his cane going to your head. You could still imagine the warmth of his hand on your hip, of his eyes on you as they rested on your lips.

You turned in your bed with a grunt of frustration as your chest warmed at the thought of it, burying your face in your pillow. What was happening to you? He wasn't even in the damned room, and yet these symptoms were perfectly awake and persistent. Yet you didn't see him any more than that. 

A routine had set in. Whenever you came back from a class trip, it was his custom to go and rest in his room, away from more walking and to escape Fiora's presence.

Demacia, all white and glorious, didn't seem to have any great inclination towards accessibility. Its cities were built on mountainsides where bridges and domes overlapped over vast, empty, flat expanses. You never got lost, though, as the streets were never narrow and the view was always unobstructed.

It was almost a little frightening, leaving no room for anyone to hide or escape, whatever the situation.

From most angles, Demacia wasn't suitable for everyone, and the lack of benches in the streets for people to sit on, for example, was backed up by the need for an athletic society and sporting encouragement.

So it wasn't surprising that Viktor was keen to get some rest, as you yourself would end your days out on the town tired beyond belief. You hoped his naps were restorative, even if sleep couldn't cure all ills.

Your own sleep came late that night, your thoughts returning incessantly and inevitably to him.

In the early hours of the morning, what finally woke you up was someone knocking on your door. With a grunt, you rolled over in bed, hoping that the idiot who had just knocked would go away.

The knock came again, a sigh from behind the door. "You in there Piltie girl?"

Why did the first voice you had to listen to this morning have to be Fiora's? You turned to face the door, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Come in," you replied in a voice all hoarse with sleep.

So she entered, energetic and judgmental as ever. The room was dark except for a small nightlight on your bedside table.

"You're still asleep?" she asked, almost mockingly, as she strode over to the blackout curtains in the bedroom and yanked them open.

You pressed the heel of your palms against your eyes, clearing the sleep crusts and sniffling as the sun penetrated your room and slapped your body with its light.

"Why, did I oversleep?" you questioned as you finally lowered your hands to your legs, crossing them.

She squinted her eyes at your face. "You're so ugly when you wake up."

"And you're an asshole all day long, to each his own," you winced as you planted your feet on the floor, the fresh flagstone floor unpleasant and just making you want to crawl back under your blanket and fall back asleep in the warmth of your bed.

"Look at that," Fiora chuckled, "Miss Phathe's not a morning person, who'd have thought it."

The mere mention of Selene's name between her lips made you want to strangle her. "Continue putting dirt on my name and you'll end up at your own funeral," you replied before heading for the bathroom. "You're just one bad day away from being me anyway."

"You know," you heard her giggle as she followed you, leaning in the doorway as she watched you go through your morning routine, "for a Piltie, you sure have a way with comebacks."

"That is because I'm not a Piltie," you replied as you tended to your hair.

"Really?" she questioned, surprised. "What are you then?"

You considered answering her for a moment. There was only today and tomorrow left when you would leave in the evening and arrive in Piltover the following night.

"Zaunite," you finally replied as you picked up your toothbrush, squeezing your tube of toothpaste mechanically, "but from where? Not sure."

She arched an eyebrow as you began to brush your teeth. "Explains the poor taste in everything."

"Explains the sword up your ass," you managed to articulate.

She giggled, smiling into the mirror as she watched you for a moment. It wasn't a look of expectation that you'd screw something up, more a look of consideration.

"You know," she began, "prettying yourself up wouldn't be that complicated."

You huffed, spitting into the sink. "Why would I need it?"

"Not saying you need it," she corrected, "I'm saying it'd be fun."

"Never took much attention to it anyway," you sighed before returning your toothbrush to your mouth, "I'm not trying to charm anyone."

Her eyes rolled up to the sky as if you'd just said the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. "It's not about charming anyone you idiot," she shook her head, "It's about doing this for yourself."

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your tired eyes watching you as she continued.

"If you're applying makeup and pretty dresses for anybody else but you in the first place, that's a bit desperate."

You spat into the sink again, rinsing the bristles from your toothbrush. "Making yourself pretty for someone you like would be desperate?"

"In some cases, no," she admitted, "Like wearing something someone offered you." 

You grabbed one of the glasses of water on the sink, filling it to rinse your mouth.

‘"But I can tell you're negligent of yourself," she continued as she moved forward to stand next to you, "and that's what's bringing you lower than zero." 

You turned to her, thinking the conversation was going to turn negative and immediately demeaning, but her tone wasn't condescending.

"This doesn't just apply to your physique, Zaunite girl," she pointed out, marking the new appellation with her tongue, "but to the way you consider yourself. You want to be number one at all times, but you forget to put yourself first and that is the very reason you're losing."

You sighed - she wasn't wrong. You weren't taking care of yourself, weren't giving yourself enough of the treatment you deserved or simply needed to live. The memories of your fever during exam week and of all the deviations you had made out of greed to win also came back to mind.

You'd put your primary needs to one side, neglected your friendships by walking away from them as soon as you thought you'd done anything remotely negative, and ended up in situations where your health was in danger simply because you unconsciously thought you deserved it or that it was the norm.

And every time, Viktor intervened.

He stayed by your side when you were seriously ill, passed you his coat during the masquerade, persevered in wanting to be your friend and assured you that he didn't think badly of you.

You took a sip of water from your glass to keep it in your mouth and spit, hoping that its coolness would contrast with the heat you felt just thinking about it.

"Any reason for this early morning motivation class?" you asked as you came out of the bathroom to find something to change into,"Or are you about to bring me outside barefoot in the grass while we do some flowy movements for better harmony in our bodies?"

She stood by the bathroom frame, giggling. "No party of mine happens barefoot."

You turned to her, frowning and giving up the search for the day's clothes for the moment. "Party?"

"Yup," she confirmed as she walked over to you, observing the contents of your suitcase. "You guys are leaving tomorrow evening, so I wanted to make sure we'd all have our fun one last time." Her eyes returned to yours. "Tonight, I'm hosting a party in one of the apartments under my name, not far from here. Everyone's invited."

You turned to your suitcase, Fiora's earlier questions about your appearance taking on a second meaning. 

"I've never been to any party before," you admitted as you found what you were going to wear for the day and headed for the bathroom so you could change in privacy, closing the door behind you.

She approached the door, leaning against the wall next to it. "Have you been that much of a fun killer all your life?" she giggled.

"Just never had the opportunity or any invite, alright?" you sighed, tired of her answers which you found a little too dramatic as you undressed. "My first party of the sort was a masquerade I attended this very year which, apart from a few exceptions, had guests that were all toffs twice my age."

"Well, there's a first time for everything," she argued. "It's not going to be anything wild or club-like unfortunately if I have to fit Lolanthe and Heimerdinger's policy of moderate drinking or fun with a capital F."

You'd never really liked clubs -they were too noisy, too dark with lights only provided by neons and drinks that were far too expensive for how they tasted. Zaun's clubs were quite an attraction themselves, but nothing could have convinced you to end in one of them willingly to party and have fun.

"You know," she continued, "that might be an opportunity for you to get closer to Viktor."

The mention of his name stopped you putting on your trousers and nearly made you lose your balance.

"You're still on this," you whispered as you accelerated your dressing. If you wanted to escape this conversation, or her in general, you had to get out of this room.

"Come on," she sneered from the other side of the door, "have you never ever thought there could be something between the two of you?"

You stood there motionless, your eyes landing back on you in your mirror. Could anyone fall in love with this reflection you saw? Could anyone be charmed by it?

You'd never really had time to think about the possibilities of having a relationship with anyone, since your attention was mainly focused on your studies, but could there really have been a possibility of someone falling in love with you and you being able to return that love?

"You're taking an awfully long time to answer this," Fiora toned from the other side.

You opened the door, not even glancing at her as you walked purposefully to your suitcase and arranged it a little. "I never wondered about it."

She huffed exaggeratedly. "Viktor didn't answer like that."

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to face her. "What?"

"A-ha!" she exclaimed, pointing at you as you realised her little trap. "See? You're interested in him."

You huffed, trying to calm your mind and your heart. She was only trying to elicit a reaction from you, nothing more, nothing less. Wasn't she?

You caught yourself thinking about the possibility that she had actually asked him the question, and wondered whether her remark was a complete lie or whether there was some truth in it. Your heart felt cramped in your chest.

"Whatever," you sighed as you set your suitcase down on the floor again, the box of your tarot cards sticking out slightly from under one of your T-shirts, and you decided that you would wait until evening to read your card.

She didn't press the point any further, realising that she probably couldn't get any more information out of you at the moment. "Have you ever played Werewolf, Zaunite girl?"

"Werewolf?" you questioned.

"You really have come out of a cave," she remarked, "I feel like I'm babysitting."

"Well why are you doing all this effort for me then?"

"Because I want us to find a way to get along at least once, alright?" she finally admitted. "I'm trying to make up for what I pulled on you. Is party-fun forbidden in Piltover?’

You sighed, she was doing it very awkwardly of course, but that didn't stop her original intention from being almost touching, honourable.

"It's not forbidden to me, just... foreign," you admitted.

"Would you like to try it, though?" she asked.

You chewed your cheek, considering this most unusual offer. Was there any harm in trying? You wouldn't gain anything but the usual if you refused this offer and stayed in your room reading a book. You already did that every night, after all, so why not give it a try?

"Come on," she hummed, arching an eyebrow with a playful little smile, "I know Viktor will come if you do."

Your eyes rolled up to the ceiling, although the idea seemed strangely intriguing. Viktor wouldn't come to a place just because you were there, that would sound ridiculous.

"Fine, I'll come," you finally agreed, placing your index up in front of her to impeach her from saying anything. "But it's not just because of Viktor, don't get any ideas."

"Sure, whatever floats your delusion boat," she smiled before leaving the room.

You followed her into the hotel restaurant, which was already packed with students and other guests. You had indeed slept longer than usual, and if Fiora hadn't come to wake you up, you would probably have ended up receiving a remark from Heimerdinger about your absence to his lesson.

Unless perhaps one of your friends had come. It could very well have been Sky, Jayce, maybe Garen.

Maybe even Viktor.

As if searching for the beam of a lighthouse on the open sea, your eyes landed on him, sitting at a table in a corner with Jayce, as usual. Fiora joined them, and you helped yourself to breakfast, turning back to their table as Viktor's gaze fell on you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you gripped your tray tightly, hoping not to make a fool of yourself by dropping it if your body decided to act like this again against your will.

You walked towards them, Fiora sitting next to Viktor who only seemed to be partially listening to her, while Jayce seemed genuinely invested in what she had to say.

"Good morning," you greeted as you placed your lunch tray next to Jayce's. 

"Oh hey!" he said as he turned to you, "you're up later than usual."

"Yeah well," you sat down and took a slice of your lunch in hand, "couldn't find sleep."

Your eyes rested on Viktor, his own already on you and seemingly unchanged since he'd seen you come into the room. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks again, that stupid allergy. 

"Oh? Why?” questioned the golden boy.

Surely not because I couldn't stop thinking about your best friend and that kept me up all night.

"Couldn't drop my book," you offered by way of explanation.

You felt Viktor's insistent gaze on you, and you swallowed your mouthful with difficulty, glancing at Fiora next to him who gave you a knowing little smile. Couldn't you look anywhere?

"What were you guys talking about?" you asked, turning to Jayce, who at least didn't seem ready to extort any information from you.

"Fiora was just explaining to us the rules of this game called the Werewolf," he smiled, turning to her.

You did the same, offering him a raised eyebrow as if to say ‘see, I'm not the only one who doesn't know about it’.

"Oh you're teachin’ them Werewolf?"

Garen, tray in hand, took a seat next to you.

"No, I'm visibly showing them how to use an iron curler," Fiora huffed heavily.

He glanced at her perfectly straight hair. "You're a poor demonstrator if that is the case," he replied before lowering his gaze to the contents of his tray and starting his breakfast.

"So," she continued, deciding to ignore him openly, "the game is simple. A narrator, players; two sides, one objective: may the best player win."

Your eyes met Viktor's again, a playful flicker crossing his gaze as your lips quirked with nostalgia for the beginning of the year.

"The players are either villagers or werewolves," continued Fiora. "The villagers' objective is to discover who the werewolves are and eliminate them, while the werewolves seek to eliminate the villagers without being discovered."

"Is this a board game?" questioned Viktor without taking his eyes off you.

You could sense that he was intrigued, and that for some reason he was intrigued because you were potentially going to play it.

Had Fiora just told them about the party? Had she arrived at their table to proudly wave a flag with the words ‘she said yes’ after your conversation?

I know Viktor will come if you do.

You brought the cup of your morning drink to your lips, trying to banish the constant replay in your mind of memories of that infamous shared cup of coffee.

"More like a card game," Garen replied, "all players start the game with a card that determines their role until the end of the game."

"The game is played in two distinct phases - night and day," continued Fiora. "At night, the leader calls out the roles one by one so that they wake up and take their actions. During the day you learn the results of what the night has sown, and you can eliminate a player by voting. And the cycle continues until the end."

"Wait," Jayce finally asked, beginning to really get into the game, "you said there were two sides, villagers and werewolves. But then you said you were calling out the roles one by one during the night."

"That's because some of the villagers have special powers," Garen pointed out.

"Powers?" you chuckled, finishing your mouthful before resuming. "I thought you hated anything to do with magic, isn't it strange to incorporate it into your games though?"

"It's a game, not real life," Fiora informed, and if she could have added 'you stupid cunt' to the end of her sentence, she had the perfect tone for it. "These powers are more special abilities than anything else."

You decided to keep quiet for the moment, Fiora explaining the roles one by one. 

"First of all, cupid."

Your eyes rested on Viktor for a moment, his glance never shifting from you but never losing the thread of the conversation. Your gaze fell on his cup of coffee for a tiny moment before you redirected your attention to Fiora and listened to her.

"He points at two players who will fall in love with his arrow, and if one of them dies, the other will kill themselves out of love. The aim of the lovers is to survive the game together, even against the village if one of them is a werewolf."

You understood more and more that the game would be based on strategy and theory, and you found yourself genuinely interested in it.

"Next up," Fiora continued, "is the card reader."

You frowned, but seeing as you'd been rebuffed the moment before for your question about magic, you weren't about to be taken back twice by asking her a second time.

"The card reader can observe a card of her choice, and keep the information for herself."

"Why not say in the morning that she knows the identity of a player?" questioned Jayce.

"Because the point is to manage to keep her role secret, or to bluff," explained Garen, biting into a green apple. "Someone might well claim to be able to tell that a player is innocent when they're not."

So it was a game of lies and trickery... strange coming from the Demacians, unless in the end it was an outlet for them to compensate for the lack of daydreams crushed by the constant oppression of justice and absolute truth.

"Finally, come the werewolves who, still in silence, consult each other to decide by pointing to their next victim. Once agreed, they go back to sleep - however," Fiora arched an eyebrow, “the role of the little girl can spy during the wolves' turn by discreetly half-closing her eyes, or by finding a better way to hide her spying."

"If you knew the possible strategies," laughed Garen, accidentally pressing his knee against yours, the latter turning towards you, "sorry."

"It's fine," you assured him as you shifted slightly to give him more room, it must be said that sitting between Jayce and Garen made you feel a little small.

"The penultimate, the alchemist," Fiora continued, "the narrator shows the alchemist the werewolves' victim, and asks him if he wishes to save them with an elixir," she held up her thumb, "do nothing," lowering it to the side, "or kill them with a poison," placing her thumb downwards.

"So there's another way of eliminating werewolves other than by voting?" questioned Viktor.

"Of course," confirmed Garen, "not only could the alchemist use a poison very carefully, but an eliminated player in love with a werewolf could very well take his love to his grave. Then, of course, there's the hunter."

"The hunter?" you repeated.

"The hunter is the last card," confirmed Fiora. "If the hunter dies, he can choose a target to kill with a bullet from his rifle before he dies."

"That's a lot of roles to remember," sighed Jayce, looking up at the ceiling of the restaurant and wishing he could keep all this information in his head.

"It'll come as the game goes on," Garen assured him, "I can always give you tips, by the way."

"It's cheating if you give them the keys to the game," Fiora grumbled as she slumped back in her seat and crossed her arms.

"They barely know the rules of the game," sighed Garen, "they're going to find themselves up against werewolf war machines without having a great idea of all the different strategies we know."

She said nothing, simply rolling her eyes as Garen turned to you and put his mouth to his palm to whisper in your ear, your eyes resting relentlessly on Viktor's which seemed to narrow under his frowning eyebrows.

"Werewolves can vote on each other, and if they agree on that, it means that when it's the alchemist's turn, they can get a werewolf resurrected and make the village's only saviour lose his life potion to prolong their chances."

He leaned back from you, and you let out a small laugh from your lungs as the confusion grew in Viktor's features.

"The Noxians have a lot to worry about if the Demacians are playing this game as a hobby," you smiled before taking the last of your breakfast into your mouth.

"Great," gasped Fiora, "now Zaunite girl is going to shamelessly try to tear us apart."

"Afraid of a debutant?" you pointed out with a mocking smile.

"I don't have anything to be afraid of," she articulated, her own smirk emerging, "since I will be the narrator."

"Pfft, coward," you huffed.

"I'm just out of this game because I would make it too hard for you to win anything," she countered before standing up. "But if your determination is as fierce as your fists, I think tonight's game is sure to prove interesting."

And with that, as she made her way out of the restaurant, Heimerdinger quieted the room to tell them all about the day's programme.

For the penultimate day, you were entitled to free time. You were allowed to visit any monument, street or other event taking place in the city.

Your day consisted of long walks through the streets, shopping for souvenirs along the way, taking part in street attractions such as a portrait drawn in ebony ink on a stone as white as the cliffs of Demacia, or a small café that gave a personality quiz at the entrance and offered you a coffee to go with it afterwards.

Viktor had left you again when the afternoon came, wishing to rest before the evening in case the Demacian flats reflected their streets by removing any sofas and chairs.

"If there was a way for them to sleep standing up, they wouldn't have any beds," he sighed before leaving.

You took advantage of this little trip back to the hotel to start packing your suitcase. Fiora's remark about your appearance and your neglect of it still lingered slightly in the back of your mind, even though you eliminated the possibility of buying a dress or some make-up soon enough.

As you packed your things, your fingers inevitably landed on your deck of cards. There were two decks today, and you had a feeling that they would be revealing.

After your usual shuffling ritual, the deck offered you the Chariot card.

Advancing towards a chosen goal. Confidence and certainty. Movement and adventure. The city wall behind the Chariot reflects the barrier between you and others. You are freeing yourself.

You huffed as you sat on your bed, could you honestly follow the advice on this card?

The description continued: The character is protected by his armour and all the celestial bodies are reflected on the canopy. Two sphinxes line up on the black and white pillars of the High Priestess. They reflect duality and the outer pillars of the Tree of Life. The Magician has channelled energy through his body to transport it here and push the body into action. Nothing can stop you. You are literally in the driver's seat.

Your fingers ran over the smooth varnish of the card, your eyes searching its details. Could you be so certain? Could you sincerely free yourself from all those cycles and ideas that were needlessly handcuffing you to behaviours linked to the past?

If Fiora's advice was sincerely that you put yourself first, you were going to choose what you wanted for yourself and not someone like Fiora who wanted to tell you how to act and react. But you kept her advice in mind when it came to the physical side of things.

You had to move forward, make up your mind and not look back.

That evening, you met Sky in the hall to go to Fiora's house. Outside, the air was fine, and other students were already on their way to her address. Viktor and Jayce would arrive later, no doubt to avoid the social rule that arriving too early for a party was a waste of time.

"I'm surprised you're going to her party," Sky admitted as the two of you walked side by side. "After everything she's done to you, it would almost be doing her too much honour to come."

"I'd be doing her a favour if I stayed in my room on my own," you sighed. "If I didn't come to her party, I would have admitted defeat and needlessly deprived myself of an opportunity to have a good time."

"I can understand that," Sky conceded, "but don't you think she'd risk a public toast to you again by revealing anything else you'd have preferred to keep secret?"

"I don't think that even with all the effort in the world she would come to any further conclusion about me that she could reveal," you admitted. "But the holiday is coming to an end, and I'd rather leave on good terms with good memories. Something tells me this evening will be a perfect example of that.’

It wasn't long before you reached the address. It was more a large house than anything else, three storeys high with multiple balconies where you had a feeling that some people were going to end up in a counterparty.

When you entered the hall, warm colours cut through the generally cold exterior. Sofas covered in red and magenta cushions were placed in the living room, where some of your friends were already sitting and chatting, a large kitchen with a massive island on which various glasses and snacks were sitting was at the back of the room, while Fiora was chatting with some of her other friends.

You met her gaze and she abandoned her discussion to come towards you as Sky found Orcelyia.

"The pipsqueak and the muscle-bound one aren't here yet?" she asked, looking around the room.

"They won't be long," you confirmed, imitating her gesture. "So that's your place?"

"In part, yes," she confirmed, observing the decoration in turn before turning away towards the island. "It's under my surname, and therefore mine in a way."

You moved forward to follow her, observing the petit fours ready to fill all the stomachs of the evening. "You truly do live like a princess."

"I hate it as much as I love it," she admitted before taking a goblet, uncorking a black felt-tip pen with her teeth and keeping the cap between her lips as she wrote on the cup. 

"Too many dresses in your closet?" you questioned as you leaned back against the worktop.

"Too many expectations about me wearing the dresses," she explained before handing you the cup with your name on it and taking another in her hand. "What is wearing me down is the need to honour it."

You watched her elegant handwriting and the way she had added an exclamation mark to the end of your name. "I think you can honour them well, otherwise you wouldn't get the guilt from it."

"I wish I didn't need to honour anything at all," she confessed, writing her own name with little flourishes and other little drawings on it. "All I want is to cut the air with my blade and be considered as someone other than Fiora from house Laurent. Want something to drink?’

If you wanted to be able to stay alert later on during those famous werewolf games, alcohol was probably not a wise choice. So you asked her for a simple drink that you could enjoy without worrying about the side effects it would bring.

You watched the rest of the room, the background music loud enough to set the mood without anyone having to lean over to their conversation partner to hear. You wondered when Viktor and Jayce would arrive.

"So," Fiora continued as if she could read your mind, or was once again far too curious, "you and Viktor."

"Not this again," you sighed, taking a sip of your drink.

"Come on," she lengthened her sentence lasciviously, "I want to know where it all started."

You chuckled slightly, thinking back to all the things you'd been through about him so far.

"Well," you began, looking around the room, your eyes resting on Sky for a moment, "the day I returned to the Academy after the holidays were over, this homo-idioticus, in one single day, refused my help coldly and managed to overtake me in the Academy results."

"Off to a strong start," she smiled, intrigued.

‘’Don't remind me,’‘ you continued, ”there followed weeks and weeks of childish bickering, leading to Heimerdinger eventually pairing us up for a team project and us working together.’’

"Heimerdinger is decidedly well versed in what he needs to do."

"He made me want to rip his moustache off," you sneered, "I even ended up in detention because of it."

"You, in detention? I'd have liked to have seen that," she smiled, "did you hit another pupil to achieve the same result?"

"Well..." you let your sentence fade for a moment as you moistened your lips, "there's a chance Tyler's face might recall that."

Fiora's smile faded in an instant as shock passed seamlessly over her face. "I was joking, but..." she seemed to consider the situation, chuckling as a mocking smile settled on her face. "Gosh he is pathetic."

‘’Tell me about it,‘’ you observed as you searched the room for him with your eyes.

"He's not invited, if that's your concern," Fiora informed you before taking only a sip of her drink. "What happened next?"

You were trying to put the pieces of the story back together. "Then came the exams, and my unforgivable desire to win got the better of me enough that I flirted with death for a moment while the illness confined me to a bed. He…” you breathed in, thinking back to the sun caressing his hair, the crease of his eyebrows in his sleep, “he watched over me.”’

She was silent beside you, and when you turned to her, she wore a small, knowing smile as her eyebrows rose suggestively. "Mhm."

You rolled your eyes. "After that, when I finally realised that our goals weren't common and there was no reason for me to hate him, we decided to call a truce."

"And I suppose he came up with the idea?" she questioned.

You nodded, bringing your cup to your lips in the hope that the heat would subside in your cheeks, your eyes resting on the entrance to the room, waiting.

"You're so blind," Fiora whispered.

You turned to her. "How so?"

"I can't say yet, not when your wit is as sharp as a butter knife," she smiled as she walked over to the counter to get a refill. "But when it hits you, it's going to be like a brick."

“Viktor's my friend,” you repeated once more.

"Yeah, right," she smiled, her eyes settling on a point in the room as her lips stretched into a sneer, "speaking of the devil."

Your eyes inevitably fell on Viktor and Jayce who had just arrived. Jayce was elegant, with a black shirt that hugged his muscular frame and jeans of the same colour. Viktor, on the other hand, was dressed simply in a brown shirt with rolled-up sleeves and simple black trousers, his brace covering his leg. Of the two, you could tell who had spent more time in front of the mirror.

"Finally here," Fiora called before moving towards them and you following.

Jayce had simply taken an inordinate amount of time getting ready, as usual, even if he had seemed to cut back on certain parts of his routine. This was no doubt due to the little teasing you and Viktor had given him, and poor Jayce was probably having an existential crisis about his tastes and appearances.

"This is your place?" questioned Jayce as he observed the architecture and interior decoration.

"I know," whispered Fiora, "it's a bit too big, but for these kinds of occasions, it's perfect. Bathrooms on each floor, a few bedrooms as well as closets, balconies for a smoke if wanted - all we need. Now, let me bring you your cups.’

As she disappeared towards the counter again, you turned towards them. Viktor looked at you while Jayce observed the flat's decorations.

"Thankfully this is not another masquerade," you smiled.

"I think I'd prefer a masquerade," Viktor confessed, "it would help me hide my boredom with a conversation if I find myself stuck in it."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Jayce encouraged, "we're going to spend most of the evening obviously playing games anyway."

He pressed his hand on his friend's shoulder before leaving to see other students. He seemed to find Garen, who smiled at him as they began a discussion. Perhaps the latter would also offer him a strategy for this evening's game.

"I have a feeling it's going to be a long one," you admitted before taking a sip of your drink and observing the rest of the room.

"I was going to go out and look for a balcony to claim as my own for the evening," Viktor conceded, "but I have a feeling it won't be that unpleasant."

"Really? What makes you say that?’ you questioned.

He shrugged, his eyes settling on the armchairs and sofas. "The fact that I don't have to stand."

You couldn't help but laugh at his remark, and he smiled. There was something soft in his eyes, and you couldn't make out what it was, but it cradled your heart in its arms.

"So you're the lady that kicked Fiora's ass!"

You turned towards a cheerful voice that sounded foreign to you. A young lady with blonde hair and eyes sparkling with wonder had arrived at your level.

"I..." you exchanged a glance with Viktor, wondering if he knew the young lady, "I am."

"I wish I could have been there for that," she mused with a charming euphoric smile, "it's all anyone's talked about for a week. It really makes you want to come to the training ground more often."

She hardly seemed to contain her excitement, and you were genuinely surprised. She looked to be about fifteen, and not one of the students at the party.

"Lux, please don't harass her in one go."

Garen reached your height, placing his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Forgive my sister," he smiled, "I told her a little about our days and I do believe she has developed an adoration."

"I didn't know you had a little sister," you remarked before turning to her and introducing yourself.

"I already know your name," she smiled, "I've heard a great deal about you." She turned to your friend. "And you must be Viktor, right?’

"Himself," he sighed.

She leaned forward to whisper for him. "Sorry about Fiora's behaviour and the way she glued herself to you."

"Now," Fiora rightly interjected as Lux jumped slightly from surprise, coming back over to you and handing Viktor a cup with 'Vikkie' written on it with a little heart over the dot of the i's, "we have games to play. Lux, you're joining us little one?’

When enough people volunteered to play, everyone took their places on two sofas facing each other and an armchair to one side. You found yourself sitting on a corner of a sofa next to Sky, who was sitting between you and Orcelyia, while Jayce and Garen were sitting next to each other on the sofa opposite, and Lux was sitting next to her big brother. As for Viktor, he was sitting in the armchair.

This was a warm-up game so that the new players could get used to the game together - and possibly play with more players in future games. Fiora shuffled the cards for a moment, explaining the rules of the game and the process. She showed you the cards one by one, reminding you what they were, and soon enough she dealt them out.

You took yours and looked discreetly at its symbol: Werewolf.

Great, already an enemy in a game. It would be all right, it would be simple, wouldn't it? There were two werewolves present in the game, and you were wondering who would be the second participant.

"Now that everyone knows who they are," began Fiora, "the village is going to sleep for its first night."

Everyone closed their eyes, although it took Fiora's clarification that ‘you sleep with your eyes closed’ for Jayce to finally understand that he couldn't keep his eyes open at the moment.

"I call Cupid."

Having your eyes closed made for a strange experience. You found yourself trying to work out every movement of the more or less close players to try and work out who had what role.

"Designate two lovers who, at first sight, will fall madly in love with each other."

Despite the music, you tried to guide your ears towards the players and the reaction time. 

"All right, cupid, you can go back to sleep," said Fiora. "I'm now going to touch the heads of the two lovers, who will see and recognise each other."

The idea of having to be associated with anyone and that one of these players might be your partner displeased you at the time: what if they made a mistake? What if they were targeted and you ended up dead because you had to commit yourself?

You heard Fiora start to walk, and you feared that your head would be hit. She passed by Orcelyia and Sky, and her legs brushed against your knees without you feeling anything on your head or her continuing on her way.

Saved. All you had to do now was kill one of the lovers to kill two birds with one stone and speed up the game. It didn't matter who your furred partner was, if you could kill one of the lovers, you were going to seize the opportunity.

"The lovers wake up, to recognise each other," Fiora continued, leading the game with finesse and constantly moving around you to mislead the players.

Near you, however, you felt movement to your right, towards Sky and Orcelyia. Could they be the lovers of the evening? A player like Garen or possibly Lux, who already knew their way around, wouldn't have made the simple mistake of not being sufficiently quiet.

If that was the case and Sky was one of the two lovers, you could certainly try to silently convince your sidekick to come to terms with it - even if the thought broke your heart.

"Lovers go back to sleep," sighed Fiora. "I call the card reader. Point me to a player's card you'd like to see."

You concentrated hard to try and hear anything, but it seemed impossible to ignore the slight stirring of Sky next to you. Perhaps she was the card reader, perhaps she was just fidgeting to reposition herself.

When Fiora came round to move the cards and make you doubt, you dreaded your card being shown. What if you were eliminated from the start?

"The card reader can go back to sleep. I'm now calling in the werewolves."

You opened your eyes and lifted your head, looking around until your eyes landed on Viktor to your left. 

He looked back at you, cheek pressed lasciviously to the back of his hand. You were the two werewolves.

You couldn't help your lips from stretching into a smile as he winked at you, your cheeks heating and your heart missing a beat.

"They recognise each other," Fiora confirmed with a wry little smile. Had she intentionally dealt the cards so that you'd end up together like this? "The werewolves are now going to choose a victim for the night who will be their meal."

Your eyes roamed over the small group of closed eyes, apprehending to point with your thumb to the right towards Sky, but Viktor pointed without hesitation to Jayce. When your eyes landed on him, you noticed that his fingers were spread apart, barely hiding his open eyes.

The little girl, of course, barely concealing his identity as he tried hard to hide behind his thick fingers. You stifled the little laugh that rose up inside you before pointing to Jayce.

Fiora rolled her eyes. "Well, the werewolves have made their choice and can go back to sleep."

You exchanged one last glance with Viktor, who smiled at you before his eyes gently closed and you did the same.

"The alchemist's waking up."

You couldn't hear anything coming from the opposite sofa, and if the alchemist was on yours, they were very quiet.

"This person has been named as tonight's victim," you imagined her pointing at Jayce, "what do you wish to do? Save this person, do nothing, or kill someone?’

You could hardly hear anything, until Fiora spoke again. "Alright, alchemist, you can go back to sleep." She paused for a moment, then resumed. "The village wakes up."

Everyone raised their eyes, opening their falsely tired eyelids. You watched everyone, examining their faces and the way they acted.

"Dear villagers, last night a victim was devoured by werewolves."

You tried to remain calm, observing the rest of the participants, trying to gauge who might have what role. You met Garen's eyes, who was also watching you, followed by Lux, who seemed to be smiling in satisfaction. She could be a target for the vote, but you were counting on finding a way to cut it short by killing the two lovers.

Fiora turned to Jayce, pointing at him. "Jayce was found this very morning, jugular ripped out while he was out last night," she stepped forward to pick up Jayce's card, which until now had been lying like all the others on the coffee table at the centre of this affair. "The little girl died last night."

You feigned surprise, watching the other participants until your eyes fell on Viktor. It would have been more than suspicious if you hadn't been looking at him, and as you watched he seemed serene although falsely intrigued by who could have committed this murder.

"I suppose I can't say anything of what I saw?" questioned Jayce with a frustrated pout.

"Do dead people talk?" questioned Fiora in return, and Jayce crossed his arms, slumping back on the sofa as he stared into space followed by a long sigh.

"Wasn't so subtle about being the little girl I guess?" remarked Orcelyia.

"You guess?" underlined Garen. ‘Were you awake when this butchery happened?

Orcelyia abandoned her small smile for an expression of shock. "Of course not!"

If Orcelyia could become the target of the day, that was fine with you, and you intended to make sure that the day went in your favour. But you still had to pretend you were a villager and invent fictitious concerns.

"What's troubling is that the Alchemist did not use a life potion, Jayce is," you turned to him for a moment, "sorry, was not a threat."

"Hey!" he shouted indignantly.

"The dead don't speak," Fiora pointed out, Jayce grabbing a cushion from the sofa, putting it on his stomach and wrapping his arms around it to steady himself.

"She's right, though," Sky resumed. "The Alchemist kept his life potion. Now, who wouldn't want to save him?’

With a strange unanimity, everyone turned to Viktor. The hitherto silent man looked at you all, frowning.

"You really think I wouldn't have used some magic potion to save my friend if I had the opportunity?"

Viktor was playing the ‘it would be suspicious for me to target a friend’ card, and he played it wonderfully. You dreaded the possibility of Garen pointing out that it was precisely because Viktor was his friend that he had an extra chance of targeting him, but he did not.

You refrained from emphasising this idea, not wishing to eliminate your partner in crime even though this possibility could have given you undisputed immunity. No, you wouldn't do that to Viktor even if you could, and that idea made you feel all weird.

"Orcelyia," you resumed though, hoping to steer the conversation away from any further ideas about Viktor, "how did you make that assumption about Jayce?"

"Well, just look at him," she gestured broadly in the air at him.

You knew that Jayce wasn't the most discreet man in the world, but that didn't stop the remark from seeming like a perfect opportunity to pin her down.

"Excuse me?" you almost choked out. "Would you have attacked him on the logic that he was an easy target?"

"No don't take it this way," Orcelyia hastened, "you know what I meant!"

"You seem nervous," added Viktor calmly, the difference between his calm demeanour and Orcelyia's provided a convincing contrast - who would believe someone who looked guilty?

"Indeed she does," Garen remarked.

"I'm not a werewolf!" continued Orcelyia.

"You're not putting up anything to defend yourself though," Lux remarked, taking a slight dig at Garen's attitude.

"Because you don't give her time to defend herself," remarked Sky.

The two of them were in love, that was for certain.

"Are you defending her because she's your partner in crime?" you questioned.

You were insinuating a doubt, and the others were starting to hang on to it. You weren't seeing Viktor at the moment, trying not to let on that you had a more than dubious connection with him.

"Absolutely not," continued Orcelyia, "isn't my truth enough?"

"The truth will be what we make of it," you remarked.

"I think it's time for the village to vote," Fiora observed. 

You had prepared your target, Orcelyia perfectly in the lion's den as the others would follow. Even if your target was originally Sky, the possibility that the latter two were in love meant you could hope for a big score. After their elimination, only Garen and Lux would be left to foil, and one against two, no matter how it ended, would be gifted to win.

"On the count of three, you will point to the person you wish to consider as the target of this day's vote. One, two, three."

The count fell, and so a majority of hands turned to Orcelyia, besides her and Sky pointing one to you and one to Garen. You won.

"Well, the vote is almost unanimous. Orcelyia, today the village has chosen you as its victim. Offer your card."

She grumbled, taking her card and turning it over on the table.

"Orcelyia was the Alchemist," confirmed Fiora, showing the card to the players.

"Why didn't you save Jayce?" questioned Viktor.

"Because she was in love," you said, turning to Sky.

By making this remark, you were allowing yourself to be seen as the cupid left in the two villagers, even if after tonight you were going to win.

Orcelyia sighed as she turned to your friend in turn. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," she smiled, "they had already made their choice."

Fiora stepped forward. "Sky, pierced by cupid's arrow, was madly in love with Orcelyia. And following today's vote, she has decided to join her lover in the grave" Sky grabbed her card, turning it over for all to see. "Sky was the card reader."

"Damn," you breathed, falsely shocked, although there was very little left to pretend given the rest that remained to be eliminated.

"So the reason you kept your potion close was so you could save Sky in case she was in danger of dying?" questioned Jayce.

"Yes," she breathed, "sorry Jayce, I had to make sure she stayed alive."

"Is the village ready to go back to sleep?" questioned Fiora, watching your heads nod. "Well, the village is going back to bed. The dead, meanwhile, can watch."

All those remaining - you, Viktor, Garen and Lux - closed their eyes or buried their eyelids in their palms.

"I'm calling the werewolves."

Viktor and you raised your heads, and Jayce opened his mouth wide, silently articulating with his lips ‘you two?!’

You shrugged as your lips pressed into a thin line, Viktor smiling shamelessly.

"Werewolves, from now on choose who will be your victim this night."

Any one of them could make the choice, but the hunter remained, and something told you that Garen hadn't been the one to make Sky and Orcelyia the lovers. So, if you devoured him tonight and woke up in the morning with one of you dead, you'd end up with a tie. No, you had to win, take this first victory proudly and handily to show the other players that even if you were just beginners, you were formidable.

So you pointed to Lux, and Viktor exchanged a glance with you before following you with his finger. He trusted your instincts, just as you had trusted him with Jayce.

"Right, the werewolves can go back to sleep," she indicated, waiting a final moment before saying, "the village wakes up."

The four of you opened your eyes, the other two seeming to understand the fate that awaited them.

"Tonight, a new victim has been taken," she moved towards Lux, "between the white feathers and the blood, Lux has been devoured." She grabbed her card, showing it for all to see. "Lux was the cupid."

Sky and Orcelyia smiled at her, while Garen understood the situation.

"Of course it had to be the both of you," he smiled, "it's always you two."

"You don't change a winning team," you grinned for a moment, your eyes settling on those of Viktor.

There was a glint of quiet, dark amusement in his eyes, nodding. 

"She called you an homo-idioticus," Fiora commented as if reading a line from your lecture notes, or a post-it scribble you'd put on Viktor's forehead to make him guess what he was.

"It's a pet name," he remarked, chuckling slightly at the appellation as he turned to you.

"Birds of a feather flock together," you tried to clarify at least.

"Right, could the two cubs finally name their voting victim?"

You both pointed at Garen, who sighed as Fiora picked up his card. "Garen was the hunter."

He huffed, slumping down on the sofa next to Jayce before pointing his index finger at you like a pistol, pretending to aim at you. 

"Poof," he pressed as with that imaginary trigger he winked, to better aim for a moment.

"And so the werewolves win with Viktor," Fiora pointed out before starting to pick up the cards again.

"You killed me?!" Jayce finally exclaimed in your direction.

"You were hardly discreet," pointed out Viktor.

"You were spreading your fingers a lot," you confirmed.

"I was doing my best! Why did you kill me straight away?"

"You were going to reveal who we were if we let you live until tomorrow," you continued, "and knowing it's you, everyone would have believed it."

Other students from the party eventually wanted to join in, and just as you were expecting to start another game of it, Fiora had other ideas.

"We're going to try a new game, but with a different layout," she indicated as she stood up, turning to some of the rest of the students, "you're doing seven minutes in heaven?"

"Yeah, we've just cleared the dressing room," grinned one of them as he nervously scratched the back of his neck while his other hand had a thumb busy pressing against his red lips. Another girl behind him was redrawing her own with a red lipstick. 

"What's a seven minutes in heaven?" you questioned, mixing curiosity with slight concern.

"You really do live in a cave," sighed Fiora, turning to you and Viktor, "you two, follow me."

You exchanged a glance with Viktor, himself looking confused, before you both stood up and followed her out of the room.

"Seven minutes in heaven is simple," she began to explain as you headed down a corridor, "we choose two people to meet for seven minutes in a closet."

"To do what?" asked Viktor.

She turned to the two of you once she'd reached a door at the end of the corridor. "Make out."

Your heart leapt into your throat as your mind raced. Make out? 

The idea seeped into your mind like sunlight through the cracks of a cave. For a moment you imagined the scene, how close you'd be, how his hand would rest on your waist like you'd tattooed your mind with it in the museum, how your lips would have no cup to separate them.

But you pulled yourself together. The idea should have repulsed you, or made you feel more unpleasant than anything else - not possible.

Why had you even considered it?

You turned to him, who seemed just as surprised as you were as your eyes fell on his.

"What?" you finally asked nervously, turning to Fiora.

"Relax, I'm kidding," she reassured, and your shoulders slumped as you realised Viktor was doing the same, "although most people in seven minutes in heaven do make out. You can just talk in there, do absolutely nothing at all and wait for the time to end, or engage in further than just kissing.’

She wore a naughty smile, and you hoped your cheeks would miraculously stop heating up.

"Although I don't think you'll get to that stage, I suppose it's always good to know your options," she pointed out as she opened the dressing room door and grabbed what looked to you like an alarm clock. ‘Here, no one will come and spy on you or hear you. Please enter your palace for the next seven minutes."

You exchanged a glance with Viktor, who seemed to be gauging the situation just as you were. You didn't have to kiss him or anything, and you obviously doubted that Viktor would want to engage in such an activity. You were reassured by the fact that simple conversation was a possibility, but the closeness would no doubt trigger this allergy even more.

"Do I have to push you inside or are you going to go in?" Fiora was getting impatient.

‘’All right, all right,‘’ you grumbled, finally stepping into the room.

You stood there for a moment, arms folded as you looked at Viktor, who seemed surprised by your choice.

"It's not like we're going to make out or anything," you shrugged.

He was silent for a moment, a look in his eyes that you couldn't quite work out was there, before he finally nodded and walked over to you. The room wasn't so small, at least not small enough for you to feel claustrophobic.

Fiora placed the alarm clock on the floor, then grabbed the door handle to close it on you. ‘’Good game!" she wished, the door closing and leaving you both in a room illuminated by a small orange nightlight that kept most of the room bathed in darkness.

Her footsteps faded into the echo of the corridor, leaving just you and Viktor, silently alone, just the two of you. Just goes to show, you didn't need a balcony to have a contre soirée.

Your eyes inevitably met, drifting slightly to one side but surely out of embarrassment or nervousness at the situation.

"So," Viktor broke the silence, "I'm a Homo-Idioticus?"

You laughed, your head falling back as you closed your eyes with a smile before your head fell lazily forward again. "Not you too, please."

"Under what context was I called such an endearing nickname?" He smiled, seeming in no way offended as he teased on.

You sighed, leaning against the wall adjacent to your exit door. "She asked me how we met."

"Ah," he realised, "yes I suppose a Cretinus Totalus would have been good for you too at times."

"Are you tired of calling me Miss already?" you joked.

He took a small step towards you to face you. "It's going to take a miracle for me to get tired of ever saying it."

The memories of your discussion at the museum came back to you just by your mutual position. You remembered his jaw, your proximity, the feeling of his hand on your waist keeping you in place and waiting for Fiora to leave. The situation mirrored itself in a new angle.

And the way you had to leave things only underlined the need for a continuation to it. You were well aware that you hadn't come to the end of that conversation yet, and he seemed to think so too.

"That day," he said as his eyes pierced you with their questions, "why did you leave?"

You knew instantly of the moment he was speaking about. You replayed in your mind the fight against Fiora, the disgusting feeling of the blood on your hands, and Viktor's shocked eyes on you that you tried not to think about if possible.

"I felt like..." you lowered your eyes to your hands, nervously fidgeting with them, "I disgusted you."

It was his turn to giggle and for your gaze to gain back his level. "So you used to be disgusted by me and now you're the one scared of me being disgusted by you?"

"You never disgusted me, Viktor," you articulated firmly as you met his eyes, your jaw tightening for a moment as he seemed a little surprised by your seriousness and the mention of his name. "Never have, never will."

His lips parted for a moment in astonishment.

"And I'm sorry that I ran away, but," you tried to hold your breath and not let your heart get the better of your words, "I really needed to get it all off of me."

Your fingers were almost itchy, and you tried in the moment to distract the sensation by bringing your hand to the back of your neck, which felt like it was burning, while your other hand hung down your body.

The muscle in Viktor's jaw tightened, the orange glow of the nightlight lingering on it for a moment before he relaxed. He didn't look angry, disappointed, or disgusted.

"I," his own hand gripped his cane differently, "wanted to find you then, to talk to you, to..." his amber eyes met yours, concerned, "make sure you were okay."

Your heart almost sank to its knees in the hollow of your chest - Viktor cared about you. Of course, that's what friends do for their friends when problems arise, but it didn't change the fact that the idea made you feel strange.

"Fiora was in a worse state than me," you mumbled.

"I do not care about Fiora," Viktor pointed out, shaking his head to clear the idiotic idea, "she is no friend of mine."

You inhaled harshly. "You stay friends with violent people?"

"I stay friends with people that I admire."

The lack of hesitation in his voice and his words left you almost speechless. There was this easiness about the way he said it, like it was an evidence, like it couldn't have been otherwise.

"Admire?" you repeated, as if to make sure you hadn't misheard what he'd said.

His eyes on you made you burn, eradicating everything in their path and revealing only truths you thought impossible to be seen. He took a step forward, and it seemed to you that their heat was setting you ablaze.

"Yes," he resumed, "admire."

"What is there to admire about me?" you chuckled, feeling like a lost cause.

"Do you want the chronological or the alphabetical order?"

You raised your eyebrows. "You have both these lists prepared?"

"If you can have our clauses numbered at the top of your mind, I don't see why I wouldn't have my own list prepared for the reasons to be your friend," he confirmed.

You blinked rapidly, amazed at the immediacy with which he responded. He cut short any possibility that went against his reasoning, and if you were coming up with anything that would try and rival such comebacks, he already had two prepared in advance. You breathed in, but ended up huffing out a sigh.

"No need for this list," you chuckled, a small pause taking the air before your grin left your lips. "I feared the way you would see me after," your eyes fell on your fingers again, "what I did. There was just something that..." with your fingernail, you were trying to scrape off a flap of skin sticking out near your thumb. "I just couldn't get you to be disappointed in me."

He frowned, his head jerking back in disbelief. "I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear that."

"What?" you questioned, confused.

"Disappointed?" he repeated, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. "In you?"

You shrugged. "Does it seem that surprising of a concept?"

"Yes," Viktor confirmed with an incredulous grin, "or maybe do I have to remind you of your number one spot at the academy?"

You turned your head away, his eyes becoming an annoying mirror of what you were as you fled your reflection. "Not needed."

"Then why think you'd disappoint me?"

But you regained his gaze in the moment, he deserved to see the fear in your eyes and the uncertainty that stalked you. "Because who would want someone that is violent to hang out with?"

He shook his head. "It was legitimate defense."

"If it was legitimate defense, why did I end up with her blood on my hands, Viktor?" You almost raised your voice.

"Violent?" He frowned, taking another step towards you, leaving only a metre between you. "Don't you think I would have wanted to know how to fence with my cane to go against anyone that would have dared say what she said aloud to me?"

There was a firmness in his tone, his accent snapping across his teeth and lips. You parted your own, inhaling heavily. Had you pissed him off? Had you finally pushed him too far?

Noticing, however, the way you had tensed up, he let out a long sigh, his eyes softening as they roamed over your face and came to caress with the tips of his lashes where Fiora had struck.

Your back was pressed against the wall, you couldn't escape him. But would you have escaped if you'd had the chance? If the wall didn't exist, would you have backed away?

"We all have our angers," he continued, his voice softer, "and our reasons to fuel them. All different, all tailored, and that is what makes it so much easier to feel." He moved a little closer, and your chest swelled with warm air. "But in no way shape or form does it define you."

You swallowed, trying to force down the knot that was trying to form in your throat. Your eyes lowered to your hand, to your fingernail, still trying to tear off the cursed skin that kept sticking out. 

"Anger has left a gash in me that never wants to heal," your voice had grown small, a tiny light emerging in the darkness of the room, "I'm doing everything I can to make sure it never spreads again and closes."

You didn't meet his gaze, head down, continually scratching your skin to eradicate this weed growing on your skin. For as long as you had tried fighting all of this, it seemed as if you could never truly run away from it. Living with yourself had become a luxury through time, a possibility to move on with your life. And yet this clingy, sticky sensation clung to your fingers and mind horrifyingly.

And then, silently, Viktor gently moved his free fingers towards your hand without touching it. He just hovered over it, considering the situation, hesitating.

Then, his fingertips brushed against yours, sending sparks all over your arm and igniting your heart before he pressed his thumb against the skin you were trying so hard to rip off. 

His hand was warm, more than you would have expected, slightly calloused but soft and reassuring. He caressed the skin next to your fingernail, providing it a care your own treatment vould never have offered.

"To heal a wound, you have to stop touching it, Miss."

His voice was gentle, what little warmth there was in the room coming to lodge close to your heart for a moment. You inhaled harshly, the touch of his thumb on your skin washing away your worries like waves on sand.

If this allergy really was an allergy, why weren't any of the symptoms unpleasant?

"I know," you murmured, your thoughts slowly drifting away as the simple sensation of his skin on yours anchored you.

You could feel his eyes on you. "Then why do you keep letting it open?"

You tried to regain his gaze, to let yourself be seen, to let him see you. You inhaled sharply, biting the inside of your cheek as you looked up at him.

"Because it's the only thing I've ever known."

He tilted his head to one side, your heart missing a beat as his eyes showed no embarrassment, no fear, no disgust. His thumb pressed a little closer to your skin, moving ever so slightly along it.

"You don't have to live in it anymore," he murmured, his eyes resting on yours.

You lowered your gaze to your hands, Viktor's thumb sliding along the length of your index finger towards the inside of your hand, undoing your clenched fist in the process as his fingers barely covered the back of your hand.

"It'll take time," you whispered, letting the tension fade from your body.

You were close, only a small space separating your shoes from each other. There was something almost hypnotic in his caresses, in the fearful slowness with which he moved. There was something inside you, something that seemed to wake up a little more each time you were in his presence.

"All the time it needs," Viktor confirmed, his thumb continuing its journey to your knuckles, still darkened by the force of your strikes.

You watched, feeling his fingers pass under yours and support them as if you'd just given him a dance. 

His eyes watched your hand, yours raised to meet the serenity on his face. "Has your anger ever calmed?" you asked.

His chest swelled with air before he let out a long sigh. "It had," he confirmed.

"Had?" you questioned.

"Lately, I can't lie about the fact that a certain frustration has taken hold of me," the tip of his thumb brushed against the knuckle of your middle finger, the latter particularly dark compared to the others.

"Why?" you questioned, your fingers clasping his for a moment to gain his attention on the subject. "What happened?"

He straightened up, his eyes setting on you for a moment before letting go of your hand gently to rest it on top of the other one on the pommel of his cane. You were already strangely missing his warmth, why were you disappointed that he'd let go? Why had he held on to it? He could have let go of it a long time ago, so why did he go on? And you, who hadn't withdrawn it, why was that the case?

"Well," he continued, "a certain friend of mine started spending more time with a Demacian and neglected help from me but not from him."

You frowned, "Garen?"

"Unless your wounds were magically treated by air the day after the fight, I don't see anyone else," Viktor confirmed.

You remembered the morning itself, the alcohol stinging your lips as your eyes found Viktor. Was his frustration due to the fact that you hadn't come to see him instead of Garen?

"Well," you began again, "that was because my friend was monopolised by another Demacian that hated me."

He nodded. "I could have used a little help on that one too, I suppose."

"Sorry, your guard dog had a bit of trouble against the Demacians," you joked before gesturing vaguely to your face to show the area where you'd been injured.

He gave a small, amused smile. ‘’Damned Demacians, all bark no bite."

"Well, they do bite, just not as hard as Zaunites." You remembered what Eris had said just before you met Viktor, and found it ironic that you'd gone from lone wolf to watchdog. Were you that dedicated?

"The underground brings out the best underhounds," he confirmed, "we have a way to claw our way up to success that remains unrivalled."

You smiled, and he returned the gesture. There was an ease in the air, a comforting return to normality. But did normal include him taking your hand again? Or were you just going to go back to being a simple classmate? The second idea seemed more bitter. You would have liked to stay like that, in the softness of a room where, even if it was full of clothes, you were naked in the eyes of the heart.

"It's a good thing the trip is coming to an end," you admitted reassuringly, the impatience to know what the year's continuity had in store for you residing close to your soul.

The alarm went off, and you gasped before bringing your hand to your forehead to sigh. Time was just up. Viktor laughed as you recovered from your disorientating shock.

"Let's go," he offered as he opened the door and held it open for you, "before Jayce ends up martyred to the Werewolf."

You laughed lightly, breaking away from the wall to step out into the corridor as he followed you. Your heart was still pounding in your ears, and you couldn't decide whether that was a result of your surprise at the alarm, or whether it was due to the phantom feel of Viktor's fingers on your skin.

How lucky, you thought, that his digits hadn't wandered up your wrist to discover the erratic rhythm of your pulse.

The two of you walked back to the living room, another duo designated to take your place as you appeared.

Fiora seemed deeply disappointed that your lips weren't mutually swollen or your hair a mess and that you were returning as she'd left you.

"Joining us for a new game?" questioned Lux excitedly.

"Absolutely," you confirmed as you sat down on the sofa and Viktor, unable to get back his place on the armchair, sat down next to you.

Fiora redistributed the cards, promising one last game before adding more players so that the games would last longer and not end as quickly as the previous one, which you and Viktor had won hands down.

You picked up your card, bringing it discreetly to your eyes: hunter.

After finishing a game in which the hunter had killed you, you were taking on his role. You put your card down in front of you, and Viktor did the same. You wondered whether he was a werewolf again, whether he would target you if he was, or whether he too had a different role.

"The village falls asleep," Fiora began again.

You closed your eyes, happy in the knowledge that you would only have to be attentive and not active, given your sleeping role.

"I call upon Cupid," Fiora proclaimed, "designate two players who will love each other until death do them part."

You waited a moment, feeling Fiora move slightly in space. "Good, Cupid you can go back to sleep. I'm now going to touch the heads of the two lovers, who will wake up and recognise each other."

You could feel her moving, hearing her footsteps on the carpet, until you felt her hand press down on your head. Brilliant. You thought you could play a game without having to go through debates and stuff, but here you were, having to watch someone's back.

You opened your eyes, looking around to see who might have been your love for the game. Everyone in front of you had their eyes closed, and you frowned before turning to Viktor.

He was awake.

You were the lovers of this game.

The lovers' card came to mind in Eris's draw, and a wave of heat ran through your body.

You arched an eyebrow, eyes half-closed and chin high, offering a wink in response to his gesture from the previous game. His eyes darkened for a moment, a mischievous smile spreading across the corner of his lips.

"Lovers can go back to sleep, or do what lovers do," Fiora smiled, your eyes rolling up to the sky as you closed them.

The rest of the night went on, you paying little attention to what was going on, though your thoughts kept returning to the feel of his hand on yours, his warmth, his tenderness. The more time passed, the more this idiotic allergy theory crumbled. You wouldn't look for symptoms of an allergy to happen again, so why did you feel so drawn to his touch? To his words? To him?

What would happen if you engaged even slightly physically? Would he be disgusted by it? Would he be embarrassed? Would he move away like he had ended up doing?

There was only one way to find out.

Gently then, tentatively, you pressed your knee against his. Your heart was racing, so much so that it was difficult to hear anything other than the rapid rhythm of its drumming in your eardrums.

A second went by, then another, and another, and you wondered if you shouldn't have withdrawn your leg after such a ridiculous gesture.

But just before you pulled away after a good ten more seconds had passed, he pressed his knee against yours, not as a request to pull away, but as an acceptance.

You tried very slowly to let out a sigh of relief, the air escaping in bumps as your heartbeat cut it off slightly.

"The village wakes up," Fiora finally announced.

You hadn't thought about the fact that eventually you'd have to open your eyes, and the idea of meeting Viktor's gaze again after that attempt, from which you still hadn't moved, scared you a little.

But you had to open your eyes, and so you put them on Fiora to listen to what she had to say and concentrate.

"Last night, the werewolves claimed a victim." She moved towards Orcelyia. "After firing her arrow, it seems she didn't use it to defend herself." She picked up her card, showing it to everyone. "Cupid died last night."

So Orcelyia, who had previously died because of your relentlessness against her, had no doubt decided to take revenge by putting you two in love.

You met her gaze as she slumped back on her sofa.

"Another alchemist who didn't save a victim," Garen remarked.

"So maybe an alchemist who's in love again," theorised Sky.

You were perhaps realising this pattern. Was Viktor saving his life potion to save you in the potential event where you'd be designated a victim?

As the others began to put forward their theories, you let them do so without saying anything, your thoughts too busy on the contact that you and Viktor had.

It was just two knees, two limbs from two different bodies, bones covered in muscles covered in skin and then clothes, nothing more and nothing less. So, if that's all it was, why couldn't you stop thinking about it?

Maybe what was stopping you from not thinking about it was the fact that you had thought about doing it? Maybe what was stopping you from not thinking about it was the fact that you'd done it? Maybe what was stopping you from not thinking about it was the fact that he had returned the gesture and hadn't moved back?

The conversation passed without you paying much attention, except that Lux and Garen seemed rather devious. Maybe it was just the brother and sister effect, you thought. So the vote of the day came, and Sky was chosen, the theory being that since she had been linked to Orcelyia in previous games, she would have tried to make herself feel safe about being a werewolf by killing her to prove that she would never have done that. But the verdict was in: she was the little girl.

The village went back to sleep, without you meeting Viktor's eyes, but without forgetting him. It seemed as if every light and reflection that had lit up his eyes so far came back to you under closed lids.

The night of the power cut, when the almond of light from the candle had been lodged in his pupils, the morning after passing out when he'd slept at your bedside before waking up for the sun to settle in his eyes, and just then when his eyes were reflecting the little orange glow.

You had been used to cold lights, to the Safphire burning in Selene's hearth, to the darkness of the night, to the depths of a neon-lit city. 

And he had come to illuminate all this, as the day set to let the night live on, the two coming together in a single colour that proved to be his favourite - the one he preferred.

Fiora called out to the players one by one until the village awoke.

"Last night there was a real massacre," Fiora exclaimed theatrically. "Not one, but two people died!"

"Did the lovers die?" questioned Garen.

"The Alchemisy used his death potion?" exclaimed Lux.

"You'd better believe it," smiled Fiora. "Last night, found amongst her incense and candles, Jayce was killed," she uncovered his card, "and Jayce was the card reader."

"I was going to make it all right!" he exclaimed as he brought his face into his hands.

"Don't worry, Jayce" Fiora comforted though, "because out of your two killers, one died last night." She turned to Lux. "The alchemist had concocted a deeply devastating elixir that very night, capable of taking out any man..." she grabbed the girl's card and turned it around for all to see, "or any beast."

You smiled, Lux sighed and tilted her head back in disappointment. Now there was only Garen left.

"It seems it's always the two of us against everyone, Miss," Viktor smiled, his knee pressing ever so slightly against yours as a small sign of victory. 

"You..." Garen opened his mouth into a smile as a unique burst of laughter rose up his throat, "of course you were the lovers."

"Hmm," Viktor hummed, frowning with a thoughtful expression. "What are we going to do with him?"

"Well," you pressed your lips into an inverted smile as you watched Garen, "if you live by the river, I got a bag."

"Just finish this already," Garen sighed, pointing at you again for his vote as the two of you pointed at him.

"And just like that," Fiora walked over to Garen and picked up the card, "the reign of the werewolves ends with the union of two lovers."

You turned to Viktor, a victorious smile tugging at your lips as you offered him your hand to shake. Was it a simple desire for politeness in the gesture of having played so well as your sidekick, or was it another unconscious desire to feel his hand close to yours?

He smiled back, shaking your hand. The handshake wasn't very long, just to seal your victory in everyone's eyes, but you couldn't help noticing the way his thumb lightly caressed your hand before withdrawing.

"Another game?" suggested Fiora.

And so the evening continued, the group of students growing in size as roles were added and debates sparked. You laughed when Jayce let out an ‘ouch!’ when Fiora touched his head to determine who the lovers were, or when Orcelyia almost grabbed Garen by the collar when he referred to her as a werewolf even though she was a villager.

The strategy Garen had given you ended up coming handy when you both were werewolves, and it became evident that you’d bring this game back to Zaun to teach it to some kids.

When those who closed their eyes during the night part of the game finally really felt actual sleep taking them, the living room began to empty little by little, until there were only too few students left to play games. Some had returned to the hotel or to their homes, others had taken free rooms to sleep there. What about you? Well, you were helping to tidy up a little.

Fatigue began to pull you as you put the few remaining cups in the trash. Your eyes rested on two of them, sticking close to one another - yours and Viktor's, near each other.

Your shoulders sagged, his name next to yours now seeming to you more than simple letters, more than simple black strokes on plastic, more than two names on a list of league tables.

You pressed your thumb against your fingers, remembering the feeling of his hand on yours, and your two knees joined on the couch, and his eyes…

You shook your head, turning away from the kitchen to leave the apartment. Jayce had already accompanied Viktor home earlier in the evening, Garen and Lux had left earlier, Sky and Orcelyia were probably occupying a room, while Fiora was probably sleeping in her bed very comfortably.

You were leaving the house, the morning freshness making you regret forgetting a jacket. You didn't expect to have so much fun, to stay so long, or to experience all this. The delicate sunrise was your morning caress, accompanying you alone until you reached the hotel. 

Even if the outside was profoundly silent and was barely waking up, your thoughts were all jostling in your head as you went over each event of the evening, catching each one like fireflies in your hands and delicately observing their light between your fingers.

Inside, the personnel were already busy preparing the buffet – today it was hotel brunch and therefore was open until noon. You felt that after a meager sleep, you would find great comfort in a cup of coffee.

You walked mechanically to the end of the corridor leading to your room, inserting the key with a lack of energy, but you stopped in your gestures. You turned to the door facing it, Viktor's.

If you opened your own door, it would have been like leaving again for seven minutes in the paradise of memories, ready to recast your entire conversation, for your eyes to annotate your thoughts by rewinding the track, your heart making close-ups on the most important passages. His eyes, his hands, your fingers tied. No element would be forgotten.

You pressed the handle of your room, not finding there the dimness of the orange nightlight, but the blue of the mosaics and slabs. You closed the curtains, pulled yourself out of your shoes and pants with great fatigue, and collapsed on your bed.

Your eyes rested on the ceiling, stinging with fatigue as you fought a hard battle with your lids. Your hand rested on your heart, the latter beating under your t-shirt, covering your skin covering your muscles covering your bones.

You inhale gently while closing your eyes, and it's as if you were breathing him in.

All these sensations that were turning upside down in you, you didn't know what they were. But one thing was certain, you didn't want them to stop.

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[zaundads]

Ultimate Zaundads Quote guides

All the important Zaundads Quotes

I was reading this post on iconic couple quotes and I realized that this is kinda hard for Zaundads considering they have like two scenes where they actually talk to each other. So it's hard not to do "well, just everything". Still, here are all the best ones, highlightes for my faves.

"I trusted you. And you betrayed me."

"I'll show you what you really are."

"I hated you, but you kept my respect."

"I hated you for what you'd done. But as time passed, so did my hate. "

"What I did to you… I've never forgiven myself."

"Greatest thing we can do in life is find the power to forgive."

"What's the point if we can't raise an ankle biter or two?"

"We shared a vision, Vander. A dream of freedom. Not just for the Lanes, but the whole of the underground, united as one. The nation of Zaun. Do you even remember?"

"I had no choice." - "Perhaps. But now you do. Shimmer. We have the power. We can finally realize our dream,"

"Silco. Let her go. This is between you and me." - "You had your chance."

"You'd die for the cause, but you won't fight for one? "

"I knew you still had it in you."

"Ever wonder what it's like to drown? Story of opposites. There's peace in water. Like it's holdin' you, whisperin' in low tones to let it in. And every problem in the world will fade away. But then there's this thing… …in your head, and it's raging. Lighting every nerve with madness. To fight. To survive. And all the while, this question lingers before you: "Have you had enough?" It's funny. You could pass a lifetime without ever facing a choice like that. But it changes you forever. For that, I thank you… old friend."

"Oh, it all makes sense now, brother."

"A thousand times I've imagined this moment. Never like this. All we ever wanted."

"You hear that, Bozo 2? We made it. We're done. Oh, you're sadly mistaken. I'm Bozo 1."

"I've looked everywhere, but… it's clear you don't wanna be found. God, I'm shit at this. I'm sorry. When she died, I lost my head. I told myself what I did to you was for the greater good, that you deserved it. But the dirt was on both our hands. Anyway, you know where to find me. Blisters and bedrock. V."

"If he found this, everything might have been different."

Bonus "indirect quotes"

"Benzo, stay back. […] Wait!" (Vander not wanting Benzo to attack Silco)

"We had nothing. You know what bore us through those times? Loyalty. Brothers and sisters back-to-back against whatever the world threw at us. Now I'm forced to share the air with parasites like you, who leach off their legacies."

"Tonight a harebrained scheme these two bozos cooked up to turn a dank crack in the earth into a thriving, healthy community became a reality."

"So there's a chance for us yet." (Silco to Vander in 2x07)

Merchant: "This is vile." Vander: "You'll learn to love it." (Vander about Zaunite tobacco)

"There's worse things than enforcers out there." (Vander about ?? Silco? Other Zaunite criminals? )

"Fear haunts us all, child." (Silco about ?? The dreams he has about Vander drowning him?)

"Betrayal, that pain that feels like it'll eat you from the inside out,"

"You two are gonna figure this Zaun thing out. I don't care if you have to carve it out of the bedrock, covered in blisters. You're not allowed to fail anymore."

"Nearly forgot. I ran into an old friend of yours. He had some stories. You weren't always the peacekeeper, were you? - Yeah, well, you can't escape the past. Right?"" (Marcus and Vander about Silco)

"You told me a million times. [...] Blah, blah, blah [...]" (Jinx complaining about just how often Silco talks about Vander)

"Silco thinks he made Jinx, with all his rants and his hard-won lessons. "Excise your doubts, Jinx." "Be what they fear, Jinx." Like everything was the same as when Vander left him."

Did I forget any? What is your ultimate Silco and Vander quote?

Bonus:

Full dialogue of selected scenes under the cut:

Silco and Vander in 1x03: S: It's a little crude, I'll admit. The base violence necessary for change. But we both know topside won't listen to anything else. V: Even with your monsters, you won't win a war against Piltover. S: I don't have to. I just need to scare them. They won't dare set foot in the underground again. V: You'll get people killed. For what? Pride? S: For respect. Opportunity. Everything they've denied us. V: You had my respect. The Lanes' respect, but that… that was never enough for you. S: We shared a vision, Vander. A dream of freedom. Not just for the Lanes, but the whole of the underground, united as one. The nation of Zaun. Do you even remember? I trusted you. And you betrayed me. V: What I did to you… I've never forgiven myself. You were my brother. S: No, you still don't understand. Can you imagine what it's like? When your blood mixes with the filth and the river toxins eat through your nerves. Oh, I hated you for what you'd done. But as time passed, so did my hate. And I was left with an understanding. The only way to defeat a superior enemy is to stop at nothing. To become what they fear. I hated you, but you kept my respect. Until you made peace with them. Played lapdog after everything we suffered. V: I had no choice. S: Perhaps. But now you do. Shimmer. We have the power. We can finally realize our dream, brother. V: Look at what you've done. Benzo. These kids. In fighting topside, you'd sacrifice everything that we are. It's not the way. Can't you see that? kill me if you have to, but please spare the Lanes. S: You'd die for the cause, but you won't fight for one? V: I'm just… not that man anymore. S: I'll show you what you really are.

Jinx and Silco 1x05:

S: I almost drowned in these waters. J: You told me a million times. S:Vander wasn't the man you thought he was. J: Right, he was like a brother to you, and he turned his back and blah, blah, blah. Did I miss anything? S: I've got a new one for you. That day, I let a weak man die. And another was reborn. Betrayal, that pain that feels like it'll eat you from the inside out, can either break you or forge you into something greater. You need to let Powder die. So the fear of pain will no longer control you. You're strong now. Just like you were always meant to be. Jinx is perfect.

Silco vs Chembarons 1x07: Have you forgotten where we came from? The mines they had us in? Air so thick it clogged your throat. Stuck in your eyes. But I pulled you all up from the depths. Offered you a taste of topside. And fresh air. I gave you life. Purpose. But you've grown fat and complacent. Too much time in the sun. We came from a world where there was never enough to go around, Finn. That is why we fight. Do you remember?

Silco vs Finn 2x09: S: I'm busy. F: When you took Vander out of play, I thought, "Now here's a man who understands what it takes to run an enterprise." The attitude, the instinct, the eye. The whole package, you were. Always two steps ahead. But time's lapped you, old man. S: You're with him, are you? F: You screwed up, Silco. S: You're too young to remember what the undercity was before it became an "enterprise".We had nothing. You know what bore us through those times? Loyalty. Brothers and sisters back-to-back against whatever the world threw at us. Now I'm forced to share the air with parasites like you, who leach off their legacies. F: Today's the day you die, Silco. S: That's a risk I've known all my life. But I still believe in loyalty.

Silco at the Vander statue: S: A thousand times I've imagined this moment. Never like this. All we ever wanted. The boy didn't even haggle. And what do I lose but problems? Oh, it all makes sense now, brother. Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?

[batboysanonymous]

Withering for You

​​ Eris Vanserra x Reader

Summary: She was always there—loyal, unwavering, hers was a love that never faltered. But Eris never noticed, not until she began to disappear before his very eyes.

TW: ED

Based on the song: SKINNY by Billie Eilish

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"People say I look happy

Just because I got skinny But the old me is still me and maybe the real me And I think she's pretty."

The dress slid off her shoulders too easily. Y/N noticed it in the mirror, the way the fabric pooled around her collarbones instead of hugging them, how her wrists looked too small against the golden embroidery.

She should eat more today.

But then she thought of Eris.

Of the way his eyes never lingered, not on her—not the way they did on others. She had spent years by his side, always just close enough to be his most trusted confidant, but never close enough to be anything more. And gods, how she wanted to be more.

So she turned from the mirror, tightened the dress at the waist, and ignored the way her stomach clenched—not in hunger, but in longing.

"I never did you wrong

And my, my patience is gone."

Eris wasn’t sure when he started noticing the change.

Perhaps it was when her usual warmth dimmed, her laughter no longer echoing quite as vibrantly through the halls of the Autumn Court. Perhaps it was when he reached for her arm during a strategy meeting and felt how small she had become beneath his touch.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was when she stopped looking at him like he was the most important thing in the world.

He had grown used to her presence, to the quiet steadiness of her devotion. He never questioned it, never considered that one day it might not be there.

And yet, as he watched her across the great hall that evening, speaking softly to one of the nobles, he realized he hadn’t seen her eat all night.

She had always been radiant, but now… now she looked fragile, like autumn leaves on the verge of crumbling beneath the weight of the season.

For the first time in a long while, Eris felt unease curl in his chest.

"Am I acting my age now?

Am I already on the way out?"

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Y/N froze, her fingers tightening around the goblet of untouched wine. “No, I haven’t.”

Eris tilted his head, his fiery eyes scanning her with an intensity that made her stomach clench. “Lying never suited you.”

She sighed, setting the goblet down before turning to face him fully. “What do you want, Eris?”

A pause. A flicker of something unfamiliar in his gaze.

“When was the last time you ate?” he asked, voice softer than she had ever heard it.

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped her lips. “That’s what you want to ask me? Not why I’ve stopped chasing after you? Not why I’ve finally given up?”

Eris stiffened, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.

She shook her head, eyes burning as she forced herself to meet his gaze. “For years, Eris, I’ve loved you. I have stood by you, defended you, given you every part of me. And you never even looked at me.”

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

Her laugh was hollow. “It’s funny, really. People say I look happy now. That I’m beautiful. That I’m finally good enough. And you—” her voice cracked, “—you finally look at me. But I don’t think I want you to anymore.”

"I loved you for so long."

Eris didn’t sleep that night.

He couldn’t.

Her words replayed in his head over and over, taunting him with the truth he had been too blind to see.

She had always been there, always. He had taken her for granted, assumed she would always be within reach. And now… now she was slipping through his fingers, and it was his own damn fault.

By the time dawn broke over the Autumn Court, Eris had made his decision.

He found her in the gardens, sitting on the edge of the fountain, fingers trailing absentmindedly through the water. She didn’t look up as he approached, didn’t acknowledge his presence until he sank to his knees before her.

Her breath hitched. “Eris—”

“I was a fool.” His voice was raw, unsteady. “I thought… I thought I had all the time in the world to figure out what you meant to me. But I was wrong. And I see you now, Y/N.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes searching his.

Eris reached for her hand, cradling it between his own. “You don’t have to wither away for me to love you. You don’t have to change, to shrink yourself down, to carve away pieces of who you are. You were always enough.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and Eris caught it with his thumb, his hands trembling.

“I see you,” he whispered again, voice breaking. “And I am so, so sorry that it took me this long.”

Y/N exhaled shakily, her fingers tightening around his. And for the first time in a long while, she let herself believe him.

Maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t too late.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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[icefox8155]

Ch 2: Unfamiliar Familiarity

Masterlist

Morning light streams through the thin curtains of your new apartment, its pale glow barely blocking the rays of the rising sun. You wake with a groan, your body feels heavy and a tab sore from yesterday’s panic and relocation. Your mind is still tired from a night of restless sleep, for a moment you thought that you were waking up from a bad dream but when the unfamiliar walls came into view and some unopened cardboard boxes made the hop of it was all just a dream, untrue.

You sit up and groan, feeling a faint headache come about, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stand slowly, the cold floor was an excellent wake up call and another stark reminder that this is not a dream. “Ack– ok, ok, should buy some slippers or thick socks when I go out next.” The walk to the kitchen was almost torture with the cold floors but somehow you made it though.

There was no coffee pot to be able to make coffee, nor any tea to be heated up… “Alrighty day two is already off to a bad start.” The next best thing to wake up the body is movement. You glance at the boxes, might as well get started unpacking. The forest few boxes hold basic household necessities, like kitchen cookware and utensils, shower stuff, and even some clothes that you recognize from your own closet. As soon as all that is put away the apartment doesn’t look as desolate. 

The next item on your mental checklist is the backpack you woke up with. In it had the lease agreement and utility bills, a wallet with some cash and a credit card, it also had the government-issued ID, showing you were now a citizen of South Korea. Your eyes narrowed as you took in the picture of you and your name, it looks as if your name was translated, altered ever so slightly. Is… is there perhaps a chance that there is another you? One that existed in this universe? Did… did you take the other’s place? Did they take yours in your world?

The thought makes your heart clench but a quick scroll from your phone showed no contacts of any kind, no friends or family. Your phone was wiped clean of any data used over the last couple of years… But why?

“I guess it really is just me.” you murmur, the phone screen shuts off and you are met with your reflection. Tiredness is what is seen but sadly not from sleep. Although, there is something off with your reflection, you note that your face is smoother than usual. You don’t think too hard about it since you just transport yourself to a fictional world, of course people will have better skin than the other world.

“Well, at least I’ll save money on skincare.” you say aloud while pocketing the phone. 

Before you could move onto a different task, your stomach growls loudly, a rude reminder that you had not eaten since yesterday. You groan and rub your head making a mental note of what food you have… Nothing, nothing at all, your pantry and fridge are empty. Well at least a good excuse to exit the building.

It feels like a bit of a chore to put on clothes for going out in and not old pajamas you found. You’ll also have to get some toothpaste while you are out. Maybe you should write a grocery list at this point. Clutching the wallet and apartment keys in your hand, you exit your apartment. An empty hallway is what greets you, you start walking down the stairs and a few minutes later, you find the streets just as busy as yesterday, it was nice in an odd way. That at least people will still be people.

You make your way to a small convenience store nearby. The bell over the door jingles as you enter, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixes with the sterile scent of cleaning supplies. As you peruse the aisles, you carefully select a pack of instant ramen, toothpaste, and a few other essentials that might help ground you in this bizarre new reality. 

At the register, your eyes wander to the magazine rack near the counter. There, staring back at you from a glossy cover, is Choi Jong-in—his steely gaze and confident smirk anchoring the headline: “Korea’s Top S-Rank Hunter Discusses Guild’s Future.” You are starting to not like his face. It's a familiar but unfamiliar face that keeps popping up whenever you go somewhere new. Which is everywhere, the man is well advertised.

The cashier is a young woman who goes the extra step to ask about your day and make actual conversation with you as she checks out your items. Normal human interaction does help brighten your mood. But the thought of the empty apartment is quick to bring it down again when you exit the store.

While retracing your steps back to the apartment, you notice a small group huddled around an old bulletin board attached to a lamppost. Curious and not wanting to go back just yet you go up and take a peak. The board is plastered with flyers and notices, all for hunters to help with clean ups or going on low level raids. It may be normal for the everyone else to see, but seeing flyers for entering dungeons was almost too much. Although none were higher than a low level C-Rank just the thought of entering one make your stomach churn. 

‘There’s no way I’m getting involved in that.’ you thought while stepping back and heading back towards the apartment building.

Yet, the awareness of your own helplessness lingers, a constant reminder that while you possess knowledge that could prove valuable, you have no awakening magic to protect yourself or others, just an ordinary human who somehow ended up in this dangerous, monster hunting world.

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

Back in your apartment, you stand in the kitchen, staring at the unopened ramen package on the counter. Your appetite gone since seeing the flyers. Your gaze drifts to the key lying on the table and the slip of paper with an address scribbled in unfamiliar handwriting. Well its clear it wasn’t written by anyone you know, but something about it keeps drawing your eye to it. 

The neatness of the note makes you think it was typed and printed rather than written. But the slight smudge at the end tells you otherwise. The person or being who wrote this is probably the same one who brought you here. Not only that but set you up in an apartment and even got identification for you so that you could probably get a job sometime.

You definitely have it easier than other transmigrators… The situation still sucks though.

You groan and start prepping the food. Hoping that you can at least easily find a job soon. You don’t notice the faint sparkles that appeared around the food before fading.

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Weekend Ramblings

Thame·Po Episode 10

Yeah, I'm late but my brain was not working properly on friday, so, now works. Congrats on the sex! I love this friend group so much. This episode was a lot. First of all Baifern needs to go touch grass. I did appreciate that the show went there, all things considering, but she made me mad. And not that I needed more proof, but Po is a better person than me. Also I hate Pemika and this whole thing around idols and dating. It's insane, but obviously eventually the company will come around, cause glass houses and all that. The PepperGam noble idiocy thing was a bit whatever, although still heartbreaking, but I'm hoping this means that our mains won't follow in their footsteps. This show is as close to perfection as I have seen from gmmtv in a while, so let's not ruin it. The best part was definitely seeing the group supporting each other. The hand holding at the press conference had me all emotional. I'm giving up on screaming at Thame. I guess since they were technically already caught, he's not bothered. Not that he acted like he ever was. Thame and Po continue to be them. I just love how even through all this, they keep checking in on each other.

GelBoys Episode 2

Never has a show made me feel so ancient. Also this show is a massive reminder of how much I absolutely hated all that love drama in high school. I had zero patience for it. Obsessively rereading messages, overanalysing every word to find some hidden meaning, wondering, Does he actually like me? Honestly, I’m exhausted just thinking about it. And on top of that, I’m beyond grateful that I didn’t have to deal with any of it in the era of smartphones, social media, selfies, apps, and so on. So much angst. I guess playlists are the new mixtapes. It's certainly easier. I continue to really like the atmosphere, it feels very grounded. And although I like Fou4Mod, I adore Baabin, so I'm not a huge fan of the way Fou4Mod is using him to make Chian jealous. Like since he's his bestie, he could've at least been honest. I'm sure he'd be on board. And I know he's gotta learn this for himself but, Fou4Mod, sweetie, this is a terrible idea. You are going to be crying a lot on that train in the future. But, I mean, who hasn't done that before?

Perfect 10 Liners Episode 17

I got YothaGun and PondSand. What a joy! I really could watch Perth do anything but seeing him being the biggest love sick puppy is a special treat. Faifa seems to have a bit of a savior complex, which we kinda knew but it's pretty obvious now. I love characters that hide their pain behind a smile, and he's so kind on top of that, so of course I love him. I also liked that he noticed Wine's overall mood and checked in with him about boundaries. I'm hoping Wine can break some of his walls and perhaps teach him the word 'NO.' I'm thinking maybe we won't get a side couple this time because we have enough couples to check in with, in between FaifaWine stuff, but we'll see.

The Boy Next World Episode 7

First of all, it was great to see Thorn/Tong again, I keep forgetting this is part of the TharnType Universe. As I said last week, BossNouel can bring it in those scenes, but I still feel like I'm watching RainPhayu. Now Cir, you had to see this coming, no? I mean you only had like a million chances to come clean. I feel bad for Phu, but I gotta say, last week I thought he might have an inkling about this, but maybe not?Now…for that ending and the preview. So not multiple universes, but something else is going on. He's dissociating. I'm intrigued and worried if they will land this part of the story. It seems we'll be getting our beloved amnesia trope and I'm so excited about it. Honestly I was thinking maybe he doesn't really have amnesia and he's faking, but wouldn't that be a bit much, all things considered? I mean, they’re going to end up together, so I’d really love to not completely despise Cir by then. The second half of the episode was strange though, pace wise. It felt a bit disconnected, and rushed. Part of it might be intentional, given Phu's state of mind, but it still felt weird to me. The sides are kinda cute, although I must admit, Wim gets on my nerves a bit. That dude must end each day with a tension headache. Like seriously, he's so tense it makes me stressed. And also, why is he so annoyed by Jin?, cause like he listed a bunch of stuff but honestly I don't see it. Wim needs to forget about Cir for 5 seconds and focus on something else. This animosity feels a bit forced.

Sangmin Dinneaw Episode 8 [Finale]

I honestly don’t even know where to start. I’ve come to expect a certain level of whiplash from this show, but this was on an entirely different level. We went from child abuse and murder plot straight into that cucumber scene. I can’t even begin to imagine the thought process behind it. This was a roller-coaster, and not in a good way. That said, at least we finally got a storyline where a guy gets revenge on his abusive parents, so that wasn’t terrible. But the fact that the hotel dude didn't get run over is unfortunate. Now that it’s over, I genuinely don’t know what to say. The main couple was cute enough, and the sides were decent, but overall, this whole thing was a mess. Honestly, the ending was the only part that felt even remotely normal. And still I'm not sure about the amnesia. But who cares? Most of this makes no sense and I'm not gonna waste any more time trying to figure it out.

[maxdibert]

I wished lily wasn't the reason for Severus' loyalty. The revelation of his love for her (platonically or romantically) was truly important. You have the incident that kickstarted the prophecy. Severus' switch to the order. Voldemort giving Lily a chance to choose. Severus playing an important role in the second wizarding war. All because of a friendship of two people from spinner's end.

JKR should have developed it more. I understand that she went for the twist, but when the thrill of the discovery is gone there are so many questions that are unanswered.

first, I do not like Lily as a friend. She forgives the marauders for the years of bullying, see her 'best friend' being hanged upside down and threatened to have his genitals exposed. Who the fuck does that ? Also when Harry asked if his mother knew that James still bullying Severus in the seventh year, remus answered with "she did not know too much." so she knew something...

I do not like Lily as a sister, why did she not let James know that vernon probably doesn't know anything about the wizarding world before they went on dinner. I mean wth is Petunia supposed to say to Vernon ? "Oh yeah my sister is a witch and she went to this magical school". Not the best way to make a men fall in love with you. Is Petunia even allowed to tell Vernon all of this under the secrecy law? (I'm aware that restaurant scene is not canon, but that's what I thought when I read it on the website).

I don't like the way she uses her other friends opinion of Severus and their friendship, who clearly don't like Severus, as an argument to why Severus should stop hanging out with his Slytherin friends. Why are your friends even discussing Severus?

Also, I don't like the way she idolize Albus Dumbledore. Severus' got bullied for years, and Dumbledore did nothing. Severus was nearly killed by a werewolf and Dumbledore made Severus swear to never talk about it. What did he do, he made James head boy. Yeah if that happened to me and this man was the leader of the order, I might have asked for the death eater sign up too. Ridiculous.

By making his love for her so pure and selfless, it makes me wonder why he loves her so much. We know nothing, and the things we know just make me go "bruh really.... her ? .... she would not spare a thought for you if your funeral was announced in the papers".

Listen I was never part of the cool kids, so perhaps I don't understand her. But then again, for a Gryffindor, she really is a social coward.

It makes everything so bloody tragic. I sometimes wonder if I'd wished Severus stayed a death eater in the story but then one with guilt because he started caring about the professors and children through the years of working there.

It was honestly funny to read all of this because it feels like listening to myself when I was 16 or 17. I mean, even before I was a fan of Severus—because that came with time—I had a pretty neutral opinion of the character. I didn’t dislike him because I understood his motivations, but I wasn’t particularly a fan either. And if I wasn’t a fan, it was precisely because of everything you’re talking about.

A lot of people say Severus was an obsessive incel who spent 24/7 thinking about Lily, but I never saw it that way—I just thought he was an idiot. I thought, Wow, what an absolute moron. Like, did he really sacrifice his entire life for a woman who was actually kind of a piece of shit? Did he really give up everything to protect the son of his bully and the woman who married said bully? Could you be a bigger loser? No, seriously, could you be more pathetic? Because that woman not only let him be bullied for years, she almost smiled at his bully while he was publicly stripping him. She practically blamed him for her lack of popularity because she was seen with him, and somehow, he was supposed to be grateful. She gaslit him when he tried to tell her about what his abusers were doing to him. She literally told him he should be grateful to one of his abusers. Like, this woman was a piece of shit who was just looking to climb the social ladder. She loved being Gryffindor’s golden girl, just like she was the golden girl back home, and she hated that she had a weird, ugly, nerdy friend with questionable associations who tainted her image. On top of that, she loved having Gryffindor’s rich, pureblood king fawning over her because it was yet another symbol of status—but, of course, she had to play hard to get because good girls always resist bad boys.

That’s how I saw Lily Evans (and honestly, how I still see her), and it seemed absurd to me that Severus would have given so much for her when, honestly, I would have told her to fuck off. Like, if I were Severus, I would’ve dropped her the first time she gaslit me about my abusers. But if for some reason I had still stuck around after that, the moment I saw her almost smiling at my main abuser while he was stripping me in public, I would’ve beaten her so hard she’d have lost all her teeth.

That was my mindset when I was younger, before I learned a lot of things. Back then, I didn’t know what toxic friendships were or how easy it was to fall into them. I had no idea what codependency was, nor did I understand what an attachment figure was. At the time, I grasped some of these concepts vaguely, but over the years, I not only understood them more deeply but also experienced them—both personally and through people around me.

As I got older, I realized that the fact that Severus came from a home where he felt terribly unsafe, and that Lily represented his first safe place as a child, played a huge role in his cognitive development and psyche. In some way, he was always going to be grateful to her for probably being the only good thing in his childhood. And those childhood attachments are some of the strongest and hardest to break because they’re so deeply ingrained in a person. On top of that, Lily was his friend for years, during key developmental stages, and he probably didn’t see all of her flaws—he had her idealized. He grew up in a house where violence was the norm, and his classmates at Hogwarts also treated violence as normal. Lily was different, so he simply wasn’t capable of recognizing problematic behaviors that anyone with a healthy upbringing and healthy role models would have seen immediately. Because he didn’t have those things.

We’re not talking about a character who had examples of healthy behavior, affection, or attachments—we’re talking about someone who had the opposite. So, of course, he wasn’t capable of seeing anything bad in Lily. To him, she was the good in his environment. She was his moral compass, a kind of lighthouse to guide him when he wanted to know if he was heading in the right direction. It’s even possible that he never blamed her for marrying James, and instead, just thought it was normal that she gave in—because she was so good that she could see the good in even horrible people like James. Or maybe he believed James had somehow deceived her.

Severus’s attachment to Lily is kind of like a child who idolizes their mother and is completely unable to see her flaws—even when she acts like a complete asshole—because she’s their mother. And if she does something bad, well, it’s probably the fault of the people around her, not her. That’s exactly how Severus saw Lily.

When I understood all of this, I felt like I finally understood the character and his motivations better. I think it’s important to look at it not from our perspective as outsiders forming opinions, but from his perspective as someone inside the situation—someone who was emotionally dependent on her and either didn’t see the truth or didn’t want to see it.

Over the years, I’ve toned down my discourse about Lily, but my opinion of her hasn’t changed all that much from when I was a teenager. The only difference is that now I rationalize it better. But I still think she was a self-centered social climber. The only thing that’s changed is that before, I just thought she was a shallow, frivolous person—now I give her a little more credit and think her behavior was based on an inferiority complex stemming from her working-class background and her Muggle heritage.

But that doesn’t change the core of the issue. And honestly? I think she and James Potter were a perfect match—two absolute assholes who deserved each other. In fact, I’ve never been bothered by Jily because I’ve always thought they belonged together. Equally insufferable.

[blueesnow]

Jinguji Ren's Birthday (Year 1) Voicelines Translation.

-You can look at it again on the Event Log, Mini-Event section (for the other boys messages to him) and Talk section (for a one-on-one conversation with you and him) in Idol Page.

-Also the translations might not be fully accurate since I'm not that fluent on jp/en, so if i ever made a mistake do correct me🙏

<You (Player)> Ren: Thank you, Lady. I feel like I'm going crazy from all of the overwhelming love I'm getting from you. Ren: In addition to feeling giddy with happiness, a greedy thought also comes to mind. Like how I don't want to give you to anyone, for example.

<Otoya> Otoya: Happy Birthday! Ren is so mature that I tend to rely on you for help. You look cool too, I'm so jealous~ Ren: Thank you. …You give me too much praise. I'm sure there are many aspects only you can have, Ikki.

<Masato> Masato: I will offer you my sincere blessing at least on your birthday. Happy Birthday, Jinguji. I hope you have a wonderful day. Ren: That's quite unexpected. Are you plotting something? …Oh well, let me say thank you. In between our unfortunate but inseparable relationship.

<Natsuki> Natsuki: Happy Birthday. We're both an Onii-san among everyone. Let's do our best together! Ren: You're right, I'm sure I could become a good "Onii-san" with Shinomi. How about we hold a meeting between the two of us right now?

<Tokiya> Tokiya: Happy Birthday, Ren. I'm always grateful of your nonchalant attention. Ren: Thank you. I also like the easy-going relationship I have with Icchi. Let's go out together again.

<Syo> Syo: Happy Birthday! You always look so picturesque huh, Ren~ I'll be using you as a reference again. Ren: Sure, if you're fine with me. How about we go shopping? I'd like you to pick out some clothes for me too.

<Cecil> Cecil: Happy Birthday, Ren! Ren is always so kind. You're a wonderful person I look up to. Ren: You're praising me too much. But, thanks. It must be because of Cesshi's honesty that I'm like that.

<Reiji> Reiji: Happy Birthday, Ren-Ren☆ Rei-chan will play with you to celebrate~♪ How about we go surfing! Ren: I'm no match for you. You make me want to go right away if you invite me like that. Thank you, let's set up a date.

<Ranmaru> Ranmaru: Happy Birthday. You might be cheeky, but you always do everything that needs to be done. I think that's one of your good strengths. Ren: Thank you, Ran-chan. Despite what you say, your kindness haven't changed at all since the old days.

<Ai> Ai: Happy Birthday, Ren. Not only in real life, but I will also celebrate it once again in the game. Wait for it. Ren: I'm flattered. I love playing game with Aimi too. I can't wait until I log in to the game.

<Camus> Camus: Happy Birthday. I shall continue to make use of you as an outstanding chauffeur from now on. You should feel honored. Ren: Hehe, that means you enjoy going out with me, right? Sure, I'll accompany you anywhere you want.

<Eiichi> Eiichi: Happy Birthday. I think your beautiful manners is one of your strong points that I should learn more from. Ren: Thank you. Perhaps, it's because you're a leader, but you always pay close attention to things in details, huh.

<Kira> Kira: Happy Birthday… The way you look during work… and how you would sometimes show your true self. Either of them… have the power to charm people. Ren: I'm flattered to hear your earnest praise. Likewise, I think you have a good contrast in your personality as well.

<Nagi> Nagi: You're always playing a sexy role, how about you learn to be cute once in a while? Since it's your birthday, Nagi will teach you! Ren: Learning how to be cute, huh. It seems quite interesting. Thank you. Could I ask you for help right away?

<Eiji> Eiji: Happy Birthday. If you don't mind, I could tell you about my recommended spicy food restaurants. Ren: Thank you. That's a very interesting topic. Since you like cooking, I suppose that means you know a lot about it?

<Van> Van: Happy Birthday! You like card games, right? It would be fun to try it with 18 of us! Ren: That's an interesting idea! I'll have to check out what we can do with a big number of people. …Oh, I won't hand over the victory to you.

<Yamato> Yamato: Happy Birthday! You have such a strong core. Are darts good for building muscles? Ren: Thank you. Although it mainly uses one arm, it's also some sort of whole workout, so maybe it does.

<Shion> Shion: Happy Birthday. I could feel your deep love for everyone… from the way you carried yourself on stage. It was magnificent… Ren: Thank you. It makes me really happy to hear that from someone who makes his own atmosphere with his unique worldview.

[flowering-darkness]

Lorenza: "Had I been at Laxan Loft that fateful day, then perhaps.. You whom the Ascians kept in the shadows might yet have had an ally for that last sacrifice. ..Ah, but who are we two of the void to dwell on a hundred years past?"

(comments/reblogs are appreciated but never required. further context is under the readmore!)

A little idea I had earlier and was successfully able to get a friend to queue into E10 with me to access the location for! This is actually technically my first thing made for my selfship with the Shadowkeeper (or to use her truer name Cylva), so it's perhaps a bit too context-heavy of a piece to start things off with, but.. oh well! I hope that it's still alright/people like it, even without everyone being aware of the full background ;w;

(If you are curious what's actually being depicted here: it's just a hypothetical musing about "if Lorenza had been present at the Battle of Laxan Loft a hundred years ago, where Cylva turned into the Shadowkeeper and forced Ardbert and the Warriors of Light to fight her (but they refused to kill her like she asked), then maybe that whole event could have been a bit less emotionally harrowing for Cylva". There was no way Lorenza could have been there, of course - she didn't even know Cylva at that time, as the two only met at the start of Shadowbringers despite both originating from the Thirteenth - but.. it's still something she idly muses after learning about Cylva's past. For more background context, feel free to have a read of this other post!)

When it came to putting this together, I was limited by what remained of the duty timer (since we had to do the whole boss fight against the Shadowkeeper and then I had to wait for everyone else to leave), as well as my own inexperience with manipulating reshade parameters like colour curves and brightness (so I apologise if this is a bit all-the-same-value - I tried to mess with the background vs. foreground a bit, but that was about all I could muster). To put things into perspective, this is how the arena looked before I went in and started the posing process - so as you can see, a lot of processing needed to be done to get the final vibes!

I'm also still not really adept at posing within FFXIV, which is why Lorenza is incorrectly using her right hand to reach out to Cylva; the day I learn how to flip/invert poses derived from paused animations will be a very advantageous one indeed! There's probably a better workflow than the one I currently use, but.. like when I was first starting out with MMD, it takes a while to get properly familiar with the tools involved and how to do what you're aiming for with them. I'd meant to get some alternate/closeup camera angles, but exited out of /gpose instead after taking the initial one, which meant I lost everything I'd loaded in .w.

In any case, though - I like how the final product turned out (even if the composition is almost identical to my January render..), and I hope that some of my thought process in making it could come through! I did finish making this at one minute to midnight on Valentine's Day, but I'm aware it isn't really a very Valentine's Day selfship thing.. so, I suppose it's more fitting that I wasn't able to get around to posting it until after the date had changed here! =P

Thank you kindly for taking the time to read this! I hope it all makes sense ^-^

[cannibalisticcorpse]

22, 24, or 26?

from this ask game

22. “Your lips are really warm.”

Charles smiles as he nuzzles his nose against Edwin's. They fit on the sofa together- just barely. "That's wicked," he notes, and Edwin scrunches his face as he tries to pull back, pressing his head into the sofa.

"Wicked? What's wicked?"

"Your lips, mate." Charles grins that love-dumb grin of his Edwin hadn't gone a moment without since Charles broke down and confessed his feelings. He shifts on top of Edwin, straddling his thighs and sitting up as he peers down at Edwin. "They're, like, really warm." His face flushed as he trails a finger over Edwin's lips.

"Are they?" Edwin asks in the most out-of-breath way he could. "Why might that be?"

"I dunno, mate. But, maybe we should take you to the doctor, huh?"

"A ghost doctor, perhaps?" Edwin teases, reaching up to cover Charles' hand with his own. His other sits idly on Charles' hip. "Might you fetch one for me?"

"What? Call the Cat King in here an' have him check you out? No thanks, you've got Doctor Rowland on duty." He shifts on Edwin's lap, leaning down to nuzzle their noses together again.

A warm beat passed between them, and Charles paused.

"You're ridiculous," Edwin teases gently and Charles swears he can feel the movement on his own lips.

"Can I-" He swallows. "Um. My lips are cold... Could I kiss you and warm them up?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Charles lets himself melt as he presses his lips to Edwin's for the first time in over thirty years of wanting.

24. “This isn’t how I pictured our first Valentine’s day.”

"You fucking idiot!" Edwin screams, all of his frustrated rage condensed into those words.

Charles furrows his brows as his shoulders raise, his eyes lasered in on his shoes. He takes a breath and Edwin steels himself. This was it- this was when Charles snaps him.

Only... he doesn't. He turns his head to the side and says, "I didn't mean to get us trapped here." His voice is just as small as Edwin's made him and the empty white space around them seems to echo his words. His shoulders drop and he looks up at Edwin with teary eyes. "I never want to put you in danger! I thought breaking it would solve the issue, not open a new dimension! How could I have known this would happen?!"

Edwin squeezes his eyes closed as he takes a breath. "Did I think we'd be spending our first Valentine's Day together in a pocket dimension? No."

Charles sniffles as his tears fall down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Edwin!"

"I know," Edwin says, and then he smiles. "I know you're sorry, I know you didn't mean to..." He takes a breath and steps up to Charles, petting his hands up Charles' collar to cradle his throat and jaw. "I apologize for my outburst, this simply wasn't how I pictured this day. I forgive you, though I have nothing to forgive." He presses their foreheads together and they take a breath together. "I love you, Charles."

"Ah, mate," Charles whines and pulls Edwin into a hug. "We'll find a way out of here, alright?"

Edwin hugs Charles back, and breathes out an, "Of course."

"And, for the record, I love you too, also."

26. “This reminded me of you.”

"What?!" Charles squawks. "What do you mean?!'

"Well, it looks like you. Or, it reminded me of you, at the very least." Edwin presents the taxidermied fox to Charles again. It's held in both of his hands, and he'd even draped a gold necklace around its neck. "You don't see the resemblance?"

Charles tilts his head to the side, eyeing the fox like he was considering. "Uh... I'm not... I don't think so, mate." He reaches a hand forward to boop the snoot and makes a kind of pulled-back face. "What in the bloody..."

Edwin sighs. "You don't enjoy it."

"I never said that," Charles rushes out, grabbing the fox from Edwin and holding it to his chest. "I love foxy, actually."

"I should have gifted you something more romantic. Niko was right."

Charles shakes his head, petting the fox protectively. "Nonsense, you know me best."

"What sort of gift does one typically receive for Valentine's Day?"

Charles shrugs. "I bought you a shopping cart."

"Bought or stole?"

Charles grins, and Edwin takes a breath of relief that he wasn't too upset over the gift. Nevermind the status of his own.

[akiss-from-a-rose]

"I told her while she was sunbathing at the country club that she wasn't a meal on display," Aaliyah said, raising an eyebrow. "I might have also mentioned that to both of you, but, really, I'm not going to spill species secrets around just anyone. That's how I was taught. Was it wrong? Probably." She laughed quietly before rectifying it. "Absolutely." She sighed. "Okay, smart ass. Keep 'um, actually'-ing me, you fucking nerd." She wasn't attempting biting, and she hardly found herself to be defensive. It was mildly amusing, and there was something close to pity, but Aaliyah made it a habit not to really pity anyone. A product of her upbringing, both living and unliving. "Again, you don't know me, Brielle. Very few do, I get that. I go for that. But you can't just state hard facts about me, like who or what I care about, without actually knowing me." She took the clan position because maybe, just maybe, she cared too much. Aaliyah didn't really have the language for it, but she cared deeply about the state of the vampires in this wretched town. Enough to sift out the tough love. Enough to take up the mantle of leader while only really wanting to desperately search for her friend, one of only a handful that she'd ever had in centuries.

Aaliyah just shook her head. "No, you're right, I didn't give you the chance to make a rational decision because we don't get those extra moments, Bri. We don't get the choice of, oh, I'll be a little mad. A human woman not controlling herself? She might yell, maybe hit. Perhaps she could cause some damage. A starving vampire not controlling herself?" She shook her head. "I'm not going to sit in front of the council while those fucking witches drag a clan member through the mud for fucking eating someone at a party. I won't even risk the chance of that happening. So was it rash to grab you? Perhaps. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. I was protecting the best interest of the clan, I was protecting you, hell. I was protecting your fucking boyfriend from the potentiality of having to listen to your trial while Meena and I have to figure out your punishment. Something that wouldn't have been light for even contemplating hurting the coven advisor's sister." She got what Bri was saying, but there hadn't been much she could do about Jake. "His words were cruel. He was acting out of fear. Does that mitigate it? No. If he doesn't apologize, then I can offer to rip out his tongue, but he also wasn't my priority in that moment. Suck it up in that moment, yes, but wait. Get back at them strategically. I do recall telling you that I didn't want to put you in a box."

Any effort to get through seemed to be a mission in futility. Aaliyah almost didn't understand what she was trying to accomplish. "I'm not trying to be menacing. I'm being honest. You won't like it because it sucks. It will suck. It's not a pun. When you have control issues, when you have feeding problems, it's not easy. It fucking sucks, and it continues to suck for years. I think that you could have an easier time of it than I did. You wouldn't have to deal with my sire, for one. If you think I'm a bitch, then you have no idea. And you have a daylight ring." She was almost wistful, just for a moment. "I missed the sun so much. Longed for it. I used to try and grind up marigolds. I thought if I could put it on my skin, the way that they sooth and heal would help. It didn't. I burned, many times. I was called a fool. She was right, of course, but." She gave Bri a long look. "It doesn't matter if you were or weren't meant to be this. You are this. You have to find a way to live like this."

Aaliyah couldn't help it. She laughed, actually happy. "I'm really not, but it's nice of you to come out of the closet. I have been rather curious if you fight all of Professor anak Bandi's battles for him, even the ones he's unaware of. You were practically ready to break his computer when he was Zooming into council meetings. I've always wondered how human lovers must feel. Do they find themselves as weak as we so often act like they are? Does he need your protection as much as you offer it?" She couldn't help the curiosity, and it was genuine. She'd never stayed with a mortal for so long as to see them as anything more than a temporary fascination. She'd only turned a handful for companionship, but she'd never been especially coddling of any of them. "It's beautiful. Mankind used to spend hundreds, sometimes thousands of years building monuments, cathedrals. Some desperate clawing at permanence. And they are sad. But... ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Whether you're a skull in the wall or dust in the wind, it's sad because they're dead, not because of their eternal resting place." She snorted. "I've lost my touch if the only reason you think I'm a bitch is because I insult your boyfriend. I think I've also kicked your roommate out of my club three times. Her picture's on the wall, now. Do Not Allow Entry. And what is a Shrek?" she asked, like she hadn't seen the movie when it first came out, a fascinating innovation in animation. "I like to think that I have layers like a hornets' nest. Far more applicable." Full of tiny, dangerous little components packed with stinging, hateful creatures.

The irony, in Aaliyah's eyes, was that Brielle was just as set in her own thought processes as she believed everyone else was set in their opinions about her. "I really haven't heard the eulogies. Such a thing is fun in theory, less so in practice. Making an entire town come to a party and then speak about someone that they may not properly know very well is a well intentioned idea that is, more often than not, less than ideal in practice. Besides, I didn't say that everyone in this goddamn town cares about you, I said people. You still have people that care about you. Maybe it's one hundred, maybe it's just one, but that can be enough. And Benjamin has lived here long enough to understand the risks. I remember the former Coalition leader, and I remember that your professor stepped up as soon as he was needed. He loves you, and he loves this town. I don't think something like that is going to do him in." The man had more backbone than she felt obligated to give him credit for. Most humans did. They willingly chose to live in a place where their neighbors had wings or turned into wolves or craved blood. There was an incredibly amount of bravery there.

"I'm not being condescending. I'm not patronizing you. I'm just talking. This is the way I talk, and it's the way I've talked for a while, now. And I'm attempting to get you out of that booth. It worked. But if you want to have a drinking, go for it. Maybe make me a little card. One sip for saying 'fuck.' Down a shot for moral superiority from a confess serial killer," Aaliyah said, laughing a little before she looked at Bri, her eyes a little soft. "If you want an actual funeral, this isn't it. I imagine you didn't get a lot of mourning done in there." Her expression ticked up in amusement as she listed off some of the members of the clan and their various selling points. "She's eccentric. That happens, sometimes. He has cultivated a displeasure for most things. That happens, too. It's nice that they're happy, even if unhelpful. She needs all the rest she can get right now. And you're right, they're both rather new, and the last people I'd wish to get advice from about control are Tried to Eat My Boyfriend's Leg and Had a Sunburn for a Year From Sleeping Outside." She hummed. "No, not a bat signal. We don't turn into bats. Look, I get you might think it's too little, too late. And that's fine. But I work on payroll for Eclipse on Tuesday afternoons. I offered you help with payback at the gift exchange. I'll offer you something similar, now: help with being a vampire, sans neon sign. No non-vampire pals, no busy crowds where I, and most people, really, are so often on defensive. Again, I'm telling you that you probably won't like it. Not to cow you but to let you know that it's just not fun. I didn't like it. I hated it, really, and it took me years to get the hang of this bullshit. But you're much smarter than me."

"Actually you told the both of us during White Elephant two years ago. I was sitting right next to her," She explained. "And I could have, but I trusted you and, as I know now, I shouldn't have," She stated, pressing her lips together as she gave her a small shrug. "It's called a hyperbole. You know, a mild exaggeration for dramatic effect? And I'm well aware when you became advisor. I'm not attacking you. I'm simply pointing out the obvious," She explained calmly. "We both know you don't really care about me, so why bother with the pretend?" Bri reasoned. She already had to question pretty much every relationship in her life. Why add another to the rather long list?

"See. That doesn't exactly sound like you care. Though as for whether or not I would have taken a rational suggestion in that moment, did you even give me a chance to? I lunged at Frankie because she caught me off guard, my emotions got the best of me and I was starving. But, I stopped the moment I-" she paused. Her eyes momentarily drifted to the floor as she muttered under her breath, "Shoved Poppy. Just before you stepped in and, I'm not saying I don't appreciate the advice or the fact that you did, but I also know that, while people came to comfort me, not one actually told him to stop when he was strewing a list of insults my way. Instead, you essentially told me to 'suck it up' and I get it. That's pretty much the only advice anyone ever seems to give around here. 'Suck it up and get over yourself'. But, that doesn't exactly make me want to hang out with other vampires let alone ask them for any other tips. No offense." She had tried to. She had asked Ken to show her how to reverse compulsion and he pretty much rolled his eyes at her and made it abundantly clear she should know how already, though he had been more helpful than most. Ronnie and Safiye were just as lost as she was and Ralph, she was fairly certain was off in some other world.

"And that, right there, is why I've been figuring it out my own. I might have wanted you to teach me control before that ominous as fuck warning? Seriously?" She asked, she shook her head the smallest bit back and forth. "You clearly don't want to help me and I don't even think you could even if I did volunteer for your hellish bootcamp which seems unnecessarily menacing. I was never meant to be this and don't think I haven't notice how my body is still actively rejecting it. I was supposed to die a human and, if it wasn't for the Sheriff's spell, I would have."

"You're awfully defense, you know that?" She pointed out softly, though her voice took on a far sharper tone as she called Ben a 'droll boy toy'. "Though, I'm sorry, a droll boy toy? Go fuck yourself and just because it's art, doesn't mean it's not tacky. While as for catacombs, they're... sad. All of those skeletons piled on top of each other until they practically form of wall of mismatched limbs you can't tell apart from one another? Unless they were some notable official, they become lost amongst the many. Faceless skulls that will go on being unremembered," She wrapped her arms across her chest as she thought of how similar it would have been for her if she hadn't been brought back. No one would have even known where she was buried. "I don't see you as a villain. Maybe, a bit of a bitch, but to be fair, you do like to insult my boyfriend a great deal, so... next you're going to tell me you're like Shrek. An onion with many layers," She mumbled under her breath, not bothering to point out Aaliyah saying that her questions was an 'exercise in self-flagellation' she had outgrown, she was further supporting Bri's entitled bitch theory.

Instead, she stood there quietly. Her gaze hyper-fixated on the crowd with her arms crossed over her chest. It was only when she was told that people cared about her, that she cut Aaliyah off. "No. They don't," Her dark brown eyes met Aaliyah's as she told her, point blank, "You've heard the eulogies. Majority of this town either doesn't give a fuck about me or hates me and they have since the first day I was resurrected. You want to talk about a complaint box? I've been called pretty much every name in the book, not to mentioned was told I smell of death which was an added dose of prejudice for no apparent reason. My friends have forgotten my birthday, stabbed me, mooched off of me, admitted to being afraid of me and fucked my boyfriend before we got together and I do mean plural friends for that one. The only family I have in town left unsure if they'd ever return, knowing they'd forget about me, and they said goodbye for what might have been forever if they hadn't come back over a note. The only person I have in my life who I know for certain loves me unconditionally and would never leave is Ben and he's missing his fucking leg now because of this godforsaken town. So, when I say why bother it is because there is literally no point. I know plenty about myself. I know I've spent the past three years trying to be liked by you god awful people and it doesn't change anything. It doesn't matter how I act. It doesn't matter what I do, all roads end the same. So, why bother? You can call it self-flagellation, if you want to, but I call it me no longer giving a fuck because there are a very few of you who are actually worth it."

"I wasn't in there throwing a fucking pity party. I was saying goodbye to the girl who died, which was originally supposed to be the whole point of this thing," She rolled her eyes as she kicked herself up off of the booth she had been leaning again. "I never had a funeral, though... wow. Are you going to be condescending this entire conversation? Because at this point, I might as well make it into a drinking game," A dry laugh broke from her lips. It was truly ironic how much Aaliyah seemed to think she had a read on the situation. "I've been letting myself 'feel it' for the past three years and I've been to nearly everybody else. Gia's unhinged, Ken barely puts up with me, Ralph and Ernie are still living in 1955, Meena's recovering from being malled by a wolf, Rio's often to busy to even get a coffee let alone fill me in and Saf and Ronnie are just as new at this as I am. So, save the whole 'I've got to want it and seek it out' pep talk. I've been seeking it out. What more do I have to do? Invest in a literal bat signal? Carry around a flashing neon sign that says 'help'?"

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads / storygraph

The Poisons We Drink

YA urban fantasy

a girl who brews powerful potions is coerced into making potions to interfere with D.C.’s most influential politicians in an attempt to stop a dangerous Witcher Registration Act from passing, and will do anything to protect her sister after their mother is killed

bi MC, nonbinary love interest

arc from netgalley

[luckyladylily]

So a few months ago there was the discourse about would you rather meet a man or a bear in the woods. I didn't want to touch it while the discourse was hot and everyone dug in hard because those are not good conditions for nuance, but I waited until today, June 1st, for a specific reason.

I'm not going to take a position in the bear vs man debate because I don't think it matters. What is really being asked here is how afraid are you of men? Specifically, unexpected men who are, perhaps, strange.

People have a lot of very real fear of men that comes from a lot of very real places. Back when I was first transitioning in 2015 and 2016, I decided to start presenting as a woman in public even though I did not pass in the slightest.

I live in a red state. I knew other trans women who had been attacked by men, raped by men. I knew I was taking a risk by putting myself out there. I was the only visibly trans person in the area of campus I frequented, and people made sure I never forgot that. Most were harmless enough and the worst I got from them was curious stares. Others were more aggressive, even the occasional threat. I had to avoid public bathrooms, of course, and always be aware of my surroundings.

I know how frightening it is to be alone at night while a pair of men are following behind you and not knowing if they are just going in the same direction or if they want to start something - made all the worse for the constant low level threat I had been living under for over a year by just being visibly trans in a place where many are openly hostile to queer people. You have to remember, this was at the height of the first wave of bathroom law discussions, a lot of people were very angry about trans women in particular. My daily life was terrifying at times. I was never the subject of direct violence, but I knew trans women who had been.

I want you to keep all that in mind.

So man or bear is really the question "how afraid of men are you?", and the question that logically follows is "What if there was a strange man at night in a deserted parking lot?" or "What if you were alone in an elevator with a man?" or "What if you met a strange man in the woman's bathroom?"

My state recently passed an anti trans bathroom bill. The rhetoric they used was about protecting women and children from "strange men", aka trans women.

Conservatives hijack fear for their bigoted agenda.

When I first started presenting as a woman the campus apartment complex was designed for young families. The buildings were in a large square with playgrounds in the center, and there were often children playing. I quickly noticed that when I took my daughter out to play, often several children would immediately stop what they were doing and run back inside. It didn't take me long to confirm that the parents were so afraid of "the strange man who wears skirts" that their children were under strict instructions to literally run away as soon as they saw me.

"How afraid are you of a strange man being near your children?"

I mentioned above that I had to avoid public bathrooms. This was not because of men. It was because of women who were so afraid of random men that they might get violent or call someone like the police to be violent for them if I ever accidentally presented myself in a way that could be interpreted as threatening, when my mere presence could be seen as a threat. If I was in the library studying and I realized that it was just me and one other woman I would get up and leave because she might decide that stranger danger was happening.

Your fear is real. Your fear might even come from lived experiences. None of that prevents the fact that your fear can be violent. Women's fear of men is one of the driving forces of transmisogyny because it is so easy to hijack. And it isn't just trans women. Other trans people experience this, and other queer people too. Racial minorities, homeless people, neurodivergent people, disabled people.

When you uncritically engage with questions like man or bear, when you uncritically validate a culture of reactive fear, you are paving the way for conservatives and bigots to push their agenda. And that is why I waited until pride month. You cannot engage and contribute to the culture of reactive fear without contributing to queerphobia of all varieties. The sensationalist culture of reactive fear is a serious queer issue, and everyone just forgot that for a week as they argued over man or bear. I'm not saying that "man" is the right answer. I am saying that uncritically engaging with such obvious click bait trading on reactive fear is a problem. Everyone fucked up.

It is not a moral failing to experience fear, but it is a moral responsibility to keep a handle on that fear and know how it might harm others.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! House Monster x Reader

Listen, I woke up in cold sweat at 4am with a vision: you and your stereotypically unavailable gamer boyfriend have moved into a new house. You find out very soon it's not as empty as you had assumed, but your worries fall on deaf ears. The tentacle monster lurking in dark corners just wants to make sure you're not lonely.

[Second Part]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance (mildly NSFW)

You didn't notice anything strange at first. Maybe it was considering its prey. You'd found a cheap, old house available for rent, and your boyfriend couldn't refuse the extra space for his mancave.

Oh, you poor thing. It watched your lonely evenings, your empty bed at night, your futile attempts to spend more time with your beloved partner. It had originally planned to devour your souls and await the next foolish mortals to enter its realm, but seeing your pitiful state prompted a change of heart. Metaphorical heart, of course.

It started gradually: testing the waters, or what you'd call a courting attempt. Doors opening by themselves, disembodied eyes lovingly gazing at you from the nearby walls. Dark tendrils making their way out of the shadows, just to announce its presence.

"I think this place might be cursed", you told your boyfriend one evening. "I've been stalked by amorphous silhouettes of blight and terror, and they whisper ancient blasphemies to me at night." He let out a worried shout and slapped the desk. "That's cool, babe. I'm kind of losing right now, though, so perhaps give me a minute?"

One night you were awakened from your slumber by a warm touch sliding across your body. You smiled into your pillow as the cheeky hands made their way down, fondling your curves and hungrily searching for your sensitive areas. You let out a soft moan, enjoying the moment, until you heard your boyfriend yell from the other room. Your eyes shot open.

The hands lewdly groping your privates were, in fact, tentacles. Your first reaction was to gasp, but you were quickly silenced by another slippery appendage pressing against your lips. Shh, shh. Allow the creature to do its thing, dear. Surely enough, within minutes you were a drooling mess, holding onto the sheets for dear life.

"You've been in a good mood lately", you boyfriend remarks, idly scrolling on his phone and crunching on his breakfast cereal. You ponder if you should tell him you've been fucked relentlessly by a monstrous creature inhabiting your new home. You glance at the counter and smirk, remembering how you just had to wipe your wet mess from it a few hours ago. "Keep it that way, hun, I could get used to not being pestered every hour", the man jokes with a laugh.

Does it count as cheating if your affair partner isn't really human? Although, you have to wonder if you're still dating to begin with. From the corner of your eye, you can discern faint movement above the young man, a shadow looming menacingly. The eldritch monster would not hesitate to tear your poor boyfriend apart if he tried to mess with its belonging.

[xianzhou-craftsman]

Perhaps that is an answer that he owes, yes. Yingxing thinks on it for a moment. There is a lot he can still only speculate on, considering he does not remember and does not want to look into any records of what has been done to him, if they even exist at all. But he's been to see medics about it, and plenty of clever people, including himself, have put pieces together. "My body holds a piece of the Flint Emperor's body. A dead, disconnected piece that's... dissolved, more or less. It allows me access to a very limited power-supply." He summons a flame, lets it dance in the palm of his hand. Its color is still golden, like the Abundance, rather than the typical blue of a heliobus, of the pseudo-sun at the center of the Flamewheel Forge. "It seems like that came first, and at some point afterwards, I was... infested with a similar kind of immortality to the Xianzhou Natives. I have a core esse in my body, but it's not functional. Rather, the essence of the Flint Emperor, and the essence of Abundance joined into one. It's decentralized, spread through every cell in my body. The two powers keep each other in check. The flames burn out the plant life, something like that. It's possible that will make it less likely for me to be struck with mara, but... honestly, who knows? If my body contains some sort of miracle cure, you'll be the first to know."

He doubts he'd be able to extend his limited healing to such a degree though. Even if he would like to help Ren. Keep Jing Yuan from succumbing to that fate eventually as well. But he's not that optimistic. It sounds too convenient, like too much of a good thing taken from the horrors he's been through. The world does not work like that. If his condition makes him immune to mara, or more resistant to it, that only means he will watch others suffer for longer.

There must still be things he can fix though, and he reaches out to take Ren's hand between his, flipping it palm-up to press his fingertips to it. Not that he knows what he's doing, but he still inspects it carefully. "Nerve damage?" he suggests, "You might have been injured to a point where your faster healing only made it worse. Like a broken bone healing itself at the wrong angle and having to be rebroken." In that case, a solution wouldn't be entirely off the table. But it's just as likely to be a result of Ren's mind being eaten away at by the mara. It could be both. Is probably both. The thought is deeply troubling. Yingxing values his hands equally to his brilliant mind. Losing their dexterity, their sensitivity, would be a nightmare. "... well, at least if there's some knowledge you'd like to reacquire, I can help with that. The rest... give me some time to think about the problem." Even if Ren ends up never swinging a hammer again, it would still be a massive success if Yingxing could figure out how to help him be a bit less uncomfortable in his body at all times.

His counterpart is just full of questions today, and Yingxing huffs a laugh. It comes out a little bitter. "Do I wish to go back to being helpless in enemy hands? No, I don't think so. Not knowing what exactly they did to me keeps me up at night... but knowing would be worse. I wake up screaming with no recollection of what terrified me so in my dreams. Innocuous things can give me- panic attacks. I can put together some of what happened, and I'd rather not know more. I am here now, and I will make myself useful. Regardless of the past. Just like I've always done." He pauses, then, averts his gaze to the sky. "I suppose, if there was a way to travel back in time, and go home from there, I might be tempted. But it's too late now anyway. Here, there, it makes no difference. Seven-hundred years are a greater distance than the veil between worlds."

“ how does it work for you ? ” the question seems to come out of nowhere, but in truth, it’s something ren has been pondering for quite some time. his own relationship with life and death is already tangled enough without prying into the lives of others. what he truly despises are those who tamper with the natural cycle — those who cannot accept death as a peaceful inevitability, who reject the brevity of life or the rhythm of its rise and fall. ren likes to think yingxing would be no exception to this disdain, though in reality, he would likely find a way to be understanding. a brief flicker of distaste crosses his face, a fleeting frown, before his expression settles back into neutrality. “ your immortality, i mean. ” 

in some ways, it’s reassuring to know there’s at least one person out there — someone like yingxing, whose resilience, both mental and physical, means they’re likely to outlive others. it grants ren the comfort of more time with them. but alongside that comfort comes a deep wariness of just how dangerous such longevity can be. having lived for so long himself, ren understands all too well the toll it takes on the mind. eternity is exhausting, a promise that often feels more like a curse, forever keeping true peace out of reach. his fingers find the bandages on his palm, fidgeting with them — tightening, loosening, pulling, and repeating the cycle. stillness doesn’t sit well with him, it stirs a restlessness that runs bone-deep, an itch he cannot shake.

“ i can’t craft weapons anymore, it is mostly due to the lack of memories. ” mostly. ren withholds part of the truth in that moment, his gaze fixed on his hands as they diligently work the bandage. though his body has weathered time better than his mind, the mara has a cruel way of unraveling him in the most excruciating ways. whether it’s hesitation or something deeper that holds him back, it doesn’t last long. soon enough, he collects himself, slipping back into his usual composure. “ my hands are ... tired. numb ? i do not recognize the feeling of the forge as i once did. it is like a small static field between me and everything i touch, weapons included. ” 

it’s the most explanation he can offer for now, the rest is a tangled web of complications with no clear origin. it could be the mara, the passage of time, or the cumulative toll of everything his body has endured. ren doesn’t know — and the uncertainty eats away at him. “ i don’t know how you feel regarding the whole cryo-sleep thing. are you indifferent ? do you wish to go back to it ? or perhaps it haunts you, a nightmare even i can’t imagine. ” 

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

They can clearly see my straw man corporation is not for profit.

All my funds go toward buying my children shit they don't necessarily need, but I try to do better for them then I was done for.