#any preferences on colour would be greatly appreciated!

[madzillus]

Germination

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 11 - The Empress

summary : Eris comes over to spend the holidays with you, and drags jayce and viktor in tarot readings. Some bad news linger in the air, but nez beginnings are blooming.

content warnings : lots of dialogue. like a lot. and an enourmous amount of tarot yapping, some angst, and some fluff to close it all

word count : 12,4k

author's note : i hate having like zero perception of my own writing ARGH i hope this is good. gosh this is so long. but hey first writing post of 2025 yey!!!

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world

masterlist : here ．．discord : here ．．playlist : here

Piltover under the snow had a profoundly different atmosphere to its usual gilt. The domes and roofs covered in thick snow gave the impression that all the clouds in the sky had fallen on the town, covering it in a smooth, white mantle. It seemed silent, as if frozen in time.

As you emerged from the dormitory building, wrapped in your scarf up to your nose, you were greeted by the incessant waltz of snowflakes falling from the sky. They tumbled like white feathers - like all the angels in the skies had removed their leaves like the trees, simply guided by the wind towards an unknown destination. But it didn't matter - they were flying, simply free.

Your boots crunched in the snow as you set off towards the bridge to find Eris. The day had come for you to pick her up, and as agreed you were going to meet her at the usual bridge linking the two cities.

The town was all decked out with garlands and lights criss-crossing from buildings to buildings, apparently firmly preventing any colour other than gold from running through its streets. The carcasses of trees stripped of their foliage were lit up again, the majority of passers-by had their gloved hands around a cup of hot chocolate, and children were running after each other with snowballs in their hands ready to fire at their friends.

Still, there were fewer people than usual, the majority staying at home in the comfort and warmth of a well-insulated fireplace. You didn't need to wonder what it was like in Zaun - you had spent enough winters there that you didn't miss it.

The lack of heat in the promenade level wasn't too bad, although it would have been useful to have good chimneys or radiators that didn't break every other day. Some of the holes in the roofs led to leaks, but despite a few power cuts, it was possible to live normally.

Surprisingly, the sump level was the least worst. The constant heat from the machines brought a little warmth back to the bowels of the city, and this time the most hard-pressed workers found themselves in a new level of comfort.

As for the entresol level, it was a terrible in-between. Too far away from the big energy machines, and receiving the freezing snows in certain crevices falling from the top, the entresol level was poorly housed, at least in your memories. Who knows - perhaps public heaters filled with flammable resources had been introduced to prevent anyone from being absent from the streets.

When you reached the bridge, it was almost deserted, apart from the unfortunate enforcers chosen on this day to ensure customs and passage between each town. With your hands shoved into your pockets, you waited for your friend to appear in the distance. 

It was always preferable for you to be present and to set up a meeting point like this, just in case the enforcers wanted to cause problems for nothing when looking for papers and for you to confirm that she was with you.

Sky would no doubt have liked to come and meet your friend. You had already spoken to her about your soul sister, and she would have greatly appreciated seeing her. But Sky was already on the other side, spending her holidays with her family on the Promenade level. You hoped she wouldn't have any problems, no leaks, no power cuts.

At last you saw your friend's face, wearing a cap almost as black as her hair, as she made her way painfully towards the enforcers. Mechanically, she took out her papers, her fingertips peeking out of her mittens as she passed them to the officer before quickly stuffing them back into her pocket to keep out the cold. She exchanged an annoyed glance with you as the man made sure everything was in order, earning you a chuckle as she puffed out her cheeks before sighing heavily. He finally handed her her papers, and she gave him a polite but cold smile before moving towards you.

"It's like they take their time on purpose," she breathed, before taking you in her arms.

You hugged her back, despite the thickness of the coats that separated you with difficulty. "You're too pretty for the Piltover standards, they have to double-check if you're real."

With a tired laugh, she backed away from you, squeezing your shoulders and examining you for a moment. "Have you been doing something to your skin or is it just the perfect air of the city that does that?"

You brought your gloved hands to your cheeks, not really having changed your routine. "I'll have to look at what was in that champagne they served at the masquerade."

She raised her eyebrows, then frowned. "Masquerade?"

"Let's walk home," you said as you started to move forward, "I'll tell you on the way."

"You seem to be having a whole lot of fun without me around, young lady. I envy you," sighed Eris. "I don't get many highlights in my days."

"Am I not the highlight of your day?’"

"As long as we aren't in a warm place, you're not."

"Ouch!" you said falsely offended, bringing your hand to your chest. "This vexes me."

"I'm sure you'll overcome this affront." She pressed her shoulder against yours. "Tell me about what I missed. Since when do you go to masquerades?"

You sighed, a wisp of steam rising into the sky as you finally reached the end of the bridge. "After the exams, our dear Jayce Talis asked us to come with him to a masquerade because he was terrified of it."

"Us? Did Sky come with you?" Eris repeated, arching an eyebrow. 

You shook your head, as if it was really ridiculous. "If only it had been Sky," you turned to her. "The Emperor himself has honoured us with his presence."

"Are things always this thorny with him?" She questioned.

You shrugged. "I don't know."

"You? Not knowing? That's a first," Eris chuckled.

"It's just... I don't know," you sighed, taking a turn with Eris. "There's change everywhere and I still have to get used to it - change in my relationships, in my mind." You let your shoulders drop. "Maybe I also need a change of scenery."

"Buy a plant," sighed Eris at the sight of the stairs you were about to climb.

"Won't be needed," you sneered. "Turns out we're going to Demacia once the holidays are over, apparently."

"Demacia?" Eris exclaimed, "I'll need to make you a list of things to bring me back."

"Do I need to take a second suitcase if I'm going to bring everything back?" you asked.

"You'll need to pack a second suitcase so I can sneak in and come with you."

"How should I explain this to security?"

She shrugged, pressing her lips forward in a pout. "They'll just pass me off as a national treasure."

You chuckled, Eris smiling back before resuming.

"But weren't your exams supposed to be after the holidays?"

"That's the thing, I've already taken them."

She looked at you deeply confused.

"I know," you confirmed by the look on her face, "had a near death experience. Overworked myself."

"Nobody's surprised so far," Eris confirmed.

"Underslept," you went on.

"As always."

"Under ate."

Eris turned to you. "This is actually starting to border on dangerous."

"So I ended up very ill, passed out and spent a feverish night during which..."

You thought back to that morning, remembering the sunlight streaming through Viktor's hair, his fingers resting on your forehead before returning to his temple, his insistence that you get some rest.

"Which?" asked Eris, awaiting the end of your sentence.

You swallowed, sniffling as your nose began to get damp from the cold. "During which Viktor stayed by my side to make sure I was okay."

She arched an eyebrow, a naughty little smile playing on her lips.

"And..." she said, her tone a little playful as you sensed what she was about to say, "are you sure the dislike is mutual?"

You sighed almost brutally. "Not you too."

"Who else theorises my way?"

"Who else but Selene?"

"Ah, the wisest woman alive," she exhaled. "Is he here during the holidays, Vik-tor?"

She deliberately lengthened the pronunciation of his name, making you roll your eyes. "Apparently, yes. Jayce and him are staying over in their apartment."

"Great - sounds like the perfect plan for us to meet them."

"You want to meet the number one cause that got me to almost shake hands with death?"

"He is also the number one cause that pulled you out of this situation which I suppose you got yourself into all on your own." She had a point, and you half-closed your mouth, but she just took the wind out of your sails. "Your clit has millions of nerve endings but it's still less sensitive than your ego."

Shocked by the stupidity of her sentence, you laughed nervously, her joining you in a fit of laughter.

"I'll know what to write in my presentation on Zaun's slang."

"I hope you'll give me proper credit."

"Of course I do. I just hope the teacher marking us doesn't put ‘verbal drip’ in the margin. I'd risk 15 years of psychotherapy just to be able to cherish the hope of recovering from that."

"The famous paper you're sharing with the charming Viktor."

"You call him charming when you haven't even seen him."

"What, isn't he charming?"

You thought back to the masquerade, his dark hair with strands falling lightly over his mask, his amber eyes highlighted with kohl piercing you as he sketched a smile that raised the mole on his cheek.

"I suppose by most standards he's not bad."

"Not bad. I suppose I'll see for myself."

"I will use your vocal cords as floss," you breathed once more as you continued on your way.

"Use one of Talis' hair instead, I'm sure it'll be cleaner than anything from Zaun."

"Leave Jayce out of this, poor guy has had enough of our constant bickering with Viktor for his entire life."

"You're already acting like an old couple," quipped Eris.

"I wish you the mumps," you grumbled, "but speaking of couples, Jayce is apparently dating none other than Mel Medarda."

She turned to you. "The counsellor?" She asked in confirmation.

"Yup, met her at the masquerade."

"How is she? Apart from breathtakingly gorgeous and perfect?" questioned Eris.

"I don't like saying bad things about people, but she's actually nice," you replied. 

"Hmm," she hummed. "Did you know that if given access to it, butterflies will happily drink blood?"

You turned to her, the change in conversation seeming strange. "Really."

"Yes," she continued, "they won't bite or harm other creatures to get it though. They are solely taking advantage of whatever foods are available in their environment. So most of those up above aren't too far off. Their beauty and supposed simplicity isn't everything, especially in a world as gilded and polished as Piltover's." Her eyes went to the golden tower of the council. "Do you think she's a butterfly?"

You now understood her reasoning. Sometimes you didn't always understand what she was trying to get across, unpredictable as she was. "I don't think she's much of a butterfly, I see her more like a dove in a golden cage."

"I don't have the material to be one of these birds, but if I was a bird..." began Eris, and you felt a déjà vu of conversation emerge following the end of your masquerade evening.

"What, you wish you could fly?"

"I know who I'd shit on."

You huffed. "Got a target in mind?"

"Not for now, but I guess you got yours?" She kept teasing you, and you knew you'd never get to the bottom of it.

"Apparently not any more, we're currently on a truce."

"A truce," she nodded once, dramatically. 

"What does it consist of?"

"Fewer problems, more help, more opportunities, and..." you thought for a moment about Viktor's coat still lying in your dressing room, "less cold."

"Less cold?" she repeated.

"Mhm," you hummed as you finally reached the dormitory area.

"I think I'm going to like this Viktor," she confirmed.

"What, are you going to fall for his charms?"

"I'll leave this task to you, dearest trouble."

Eris had put her things in the bedroom, occupying Sky's bed, which would be free until the last weekend of the holidays. She knew the flat. During the times you'd had it to yourself when you weren't sharing it with anyone, she'd come and sleep there whenever she had the chance.

You couldn't count the number of times you'd both laughed there, the stupid things you'd done, or the number of heart-to-heart chats you'd had at three in the morning.

Despite Eris's many complaints, you took her to see Emmeline, who took her in her arms and, like a distant relative who talks about having changed our nappies when you were babies, kept telling her how she had changed.

With a few sweets offered, you returned to the dormitories, enjoying them while chatting about everything and anything. Her eyes inevitably fell on your tarot cards.

"Did you draw one every day?" she asked, stuffing another marzipan sweet into her mouth.

You swallowed your own mouthful, sucking the excess sugar off your fingers. "Apart from the few days I was too busy to study to do so, yeah."

She grabbed another sweet. "Did you do your reading this morning?"

"I thought that with you here we could get a better and proper reading, to see what I learned?"

"Oh you're a master of the art now?"

"I wouldn't go that far."

She wiped her fingers in a final gesture. "Let's go into the hall by the fireplace. Not that I don't like the flat, but being by a nice fire in a big armchair is much nicer."

And so, taking with you your own card deck, you headed down the hall. 

Most of the students had left to return to their families, leaving the building virtually deserted, to your delight. All the armchairs and sofas were free, and it was only natural that you should sit down on the two sofas facing each other by the fire.

Eris placed the box and the small booklet of your deck on the varnished wooden coffee table separating the both of you, keeping the cards in her bare fingers covered with a few tattoos along their length. They weren't her only tattoos, of course. She had a few on her arms, ink under the skin being almost unavoidable in Zaun. They were covered, though, by the long sleeves of the jumper you'd lent her when she arrived.

It felt good to abandon the academy uniform for a moment and dress without restraint. Oversized shirts, oversized hoodies and oversized pants were the watchwords for your holiday clothes, in contrast to the Academy vest that clung to your body all the time.

"A general reading?" she questioned, knocking on the back and front of the deck.

"I guess," you breathed as you leaned over, elbow on your knees, "I just hope I don't end up with another tower again."

"Wasn't it for the best though?"

You thought back over the last few months, the constant torment hadn't been pleasant at all, but the achievements you'd made were undoubtedly a real step forward.

"Yeah," you half admitted.

Eris huffed, knowing full well that you wouldn't fully concede this fact even if it were scientifically proven. In a perfect, expert gesture, she spread out the line of cards.

"Just three cards right?"

"Just three cards - for now at least."

Just like two months ago, you repeated your gestures, letting your hand float over the cards like a storm cloud looking for the highest point to strike with its thunderbolt. Once the three cards had been drawn, Eris folded the clean cards back into a perfectly straight deck.

"Let's see what we're working with."

She turned over the first card. Four of Swords. The card was covered in grey, a surprise considering the rest of her deck's twins always sported a variety of colours.

"Good start," commented Eris, before moving on to the second card.

Two of Wands, a man in a carmine cloak, was looking into the distance.

"Adds up," she confirmed before finally reaching the last card.

The Lovers.

Your eyes met Eris's, pressing her lips and eyes hard shut as she tried to stop herself from laughing.

"Whatever you're about to say, don't," you decided.

She had to take a deep breath to refocus and stop herself from giggling.

"I'm not the one who pulled the cards," she almost coughed as she grabbed the deck and looked at the shadow card. "Interesting."

"How interesting?"

She turned the deck towards you. "Interesting."

The Empress reigned under it.

You swallowed, thinking back to the Emperor card drawn for Viktor, your eyes drifting inevitably to the lovers card.

"Much more positive than our last draw, if I may say so."

You say nothing, simply sighing as you place one of your hands in the palm of the other. "Just start it."

She cleared her throat, putting the deck down again and letting the Empress reign over the top of the deck. She picked up the Four of Swords card.

"That's pretty much in line with what's been going on lately, and by that I mean relaxing."

"So I'm just... resting?"

"Not just resting, you're resting like a hero. Not everyone has their recumbent in a church. I take it the exams went well all things considered?"

"First place," you replied.

She pressed her lips into an inverted smile and shook her head. "So mediocre, I expected better than you."

You smiled at her sarcasm - you missed her teasing.

"In any case, you left a part of yourself there that was no longer useful, because to have a recumbent on your grave you have to be dead."

You thought back to the death card you'd drawn and Sky had read to you. The reaper had done his work so that with his sickle the weeds were cut down and new healthy plants grew there.

"In the stained glass window," she continued, "you can see two figures, one kneeling before the other. It's easy to see from this card that, through stability, it's peace that we're looking for - especially after experiencing pain - as opposed to the anguish of not being sure, of not even knowing if tomorrow there won't have been something that will have made us see everything differently."

The champagne hadn't betrayed you by making you agree to things you would otherwise have thought you'd never have said yes to.

"It was a situation of stagnation that you cut out," Eris pointed out, "values inoculated by parents or other authority figures that you had no use in following any longer, that you took on yourself without questioning them."

"So basically I was stupid?"

"Why are you saying this in the past tense?"

You giggled, "Shut up."

She smiled, continuing her explanation. "It was mostly a refusal to reconsider things; resentment or refusal to give a second chance. You stayed in that place that didn't suit you because you were already there, it was something you knew and there's nothing more reassuring than things you know - even if they hurt you." She reassured following your question. "It's a card that represents retirement, isolation, sleep and illness. An excellent moment of respite during which you can contemplate the past, learn from it and make peace with what you've been through."

‘’Right, enough about my past,” you sighed, realising that the cards were obviously well aware of what had happened. "What about my future?"

"You're skipping a step here," she said as she put the card back down, taking the Two of Wands, "because before your future, there's your present."

"It's just a transition between past and future - present doesn't exist, there are only 2 times."

"There are four times," Eris pointed out. "Past," her fingers pointed at the Four of Swords as if she had a pistol, "present," she pressed them against the Two of Wands, "future," her fingers reached for the title of the Lovers, and just as you thought she'd be pointing at the Empress, she pointed one hand at the it while the other aimed her fingers at you, "and forever. It's a time too often forgotten since it's the only time we live entirely, but it truly exists."

You sighed, nodding at her lesson as she picked up the Two of Wands card.

"After the four, whose monotonous stability has taken us out of repetitive circles, the two is an encounter, but not just any encounter."

"Am I going to meet someone again?" You huffed, the prospect not thrilling you any more than that.

"Not necessarily. As you probably know from the tarot's classification of colours, the wands represent desire, the swords rule the realm of the mind, the cups are the emotions, and since there's nothing left in us after those three, what's left is the material, which is governed by the pentacles. What can desire encounter? Nothing but the world, against which it will have to measure itself if it wants to achieve."

"So I'm going to conquer Demacia, am I?" You leaned back, looking at the card. "That's still in the future, not the present."

"That's because Meeting plus Desire equals evaluation. You're evaluating in the present what's going to happen."

You understood the intriguing twists and turns of the multi-card tarot reading more and more. It was completely different from the simple one-card readings you used to do for yourself.

"The first thing desire does as it develops is confront reality." She brought both hands towards her, all her fingers together as she pointed at her shoulders. "I have my desire, I realise there's the world, so I wonder how I'm going to combine the two. It's evaluation time."

It was when Eris was working on the cards that you realised just how professional and educational she was. She was patient in spite of your useless remarks and knotted the lines of the cards together to make a clear and precise explanation.

"Behind the battlements," she continued, pointing to the symbols, "the man dominates the landscape: planning requires height and perspective. The globe in his hand," she pointed to the drawings one by one, "reminds us that the world belongs to him if he manages to combine his desire with reality. The village facing the ocean gives the idea of openness; the strategy in place allows us to open up our horizons. The blooming basin that appears in the niche recalls the roses and lilies of the fool. Where the latter is in the thick of the action, the man on the Two of Wands is still observing. But in both cases, it's the same thing - which is it?"

You looked at the card, going over what Eris had explained to you. "Apply your will to the world."

She snapped her finger, pointing it at you. "Exactly. The whole point of these cards is that," she took the two cards in each of her hands to show them to you so that they faced each other, "where we've abandoned patterns that no longer interest us and that we followed blindly with the Four of Swords, the Two of Wands reminds us that now that a new world is open to us - it would be a good idea to evaluate it before you can forge your true will and apply it to the world around you."

She put the cards back down straight as she crossed her legs. "It's the evaluation of a project, a partner, an opportunity - gathering information, studying feasibility, a skills assessment to observe and ask ourselves if it's really what we want, and if it really corresponds to the expression of the need."

"Do the cards tell you all that?"

"I'm the card whisperer, haven't you confirmed that?" She designated her body, sweeping the air from her shoulders to her thigh.

"You do your readings to all your customers like this?"

"You're a very special client, I have to adapt to my audience," she said as she straightened, her eyes returning to the card. "It's also all about planning and preparing for a big trip - I hope Demacia will have a strong enough stomach to digest you. In any case, you're asking yourself a lot of questions. Is it really what I want? Is it really possible to get what I want, given the circumstances and the means at my disposal?"

Were you ready to accept Viktor as a friend in your life? The last few months had worn you down so much that you were sincerely wondering how things were going to go. Would it be the same bickering every day? Would it be different? You still didn't know where you stood on the question - the card was right.

"Now," she rubbed her hands excitedly, "the future." She took the card in her hand, raising it to your eyes. "What do you see?"

You bent down, looking at the illustration. An angel filling the sky, a crown of leaves encircling its head, its carmine wings reaching down to a woman on the left and a man on the right, both naked. Your eyes returned to Eris', a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Please don't tell me it's about me and Viktor getting naked," you lamented, your tone almost plaintive and asking for pity. Why did it always have to be about him?

She stretched her lips. "I'm not saying you and Viktor are going to get naked, but I definitely wanted to hear you say it."

You rolled your eyes, resting your chin on your palm.

"The lovers' card isn't necessarily to be taken literally - I thought with your immense sense of deduction you'd have come to that conclusion." She turned the card towards her. "The Lovers card is a card of choice. In the Original Tarot, it represents an arrowed angel over a man, hesitating between two women, one young and seductive and the other older and rather severe. It sometimes shows the crossroads between vice and virtue, with the idea that one should obviously choose virtue." She shrugged, rolling her eyes. "Only, if you had to have virtue, it would be by discipline, so the Cupid on the old card would have no place there. The Tarot should help to better understand who we are; therefore, the card of choice should teach me how to make the right choice for myself, not for moral teachers."

She turned the card back to you. "The central character in the old cards hesitates because he has as many reasons to go one way as the other. It's easy to imagine that the older woman is wiser than the younger one, but the younger one is kinder than the older one..." she swung the card between her fingers like a pendulum. "But the older one is more experienced... and so on. So the message is clear: when it comes to making the right choice for me, reason isn't going to help me. Choosing your career on purely objective criteria is the best way to make yourself unhappy, because it's choosing what anyone should do, when you're not just anyone."

She held the card out to you like a mirror, the varnish on the thick glazed paper gleaming in the firelight.

"How do I make the right choice for me?" you asked, your eyes moving from the card to find hers.

“By turning to the only thing at your disposal that isn't commonplace - your sensibility,” she smiled. "When it comes to the choices that matter, reason can only lose us. So, you have an essential tool for the journey ahead of you," she says, her free fingers resting on the Two of Wands. "To make the right choice, your reason knows it's useless on its own, so it turns to your sensibility, because it's connected to something higher, something that's never wrong."

Your eyes drifted over the silhouette of the man and woman.

"This is the path to harmony. We mustn't forget that it's just as valuable as the path to glory, although we're only bombarded with examples of the latter, because to be known, you have to surpass the others."

Your first place seemed more bitter than the sweetness it had brought you when you learned of your victory. Your cheeks warmed as you thought of all the comments your little family Eris and Selene made had suggested.

"And the lovers' card has no sentimental connection?"

She offered you a benevolent smile. "It's the card of love as the most obvious cry of affection. The card of mutual attraction, of the sentimental relationship, of the soul mate - becoming one. A balanced love relationship where one matchs the other, where the partners are complementary and in tune with each other as opposed to love at first sight which can leave us in shock like a certain arcane number sixteen you know all too well, burning sexuality like that of the wands and their insatiable desire, or illusory relationships."

The man and woman on the lovers' card weren't necessarily just opposites, they were mirrors of each other.

"It's a bit scary," you admitted.

"The veracity of the cards?"

"That, and..." you pointed quickly at the card, "them."

"Love is either sought after as the solution to all problems, or shunned like the plague. It's neither. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Yeah well," you sighed, "can't help but be scared of something I never experienced."

You hadn't really had time to dwell on love affairs, so much so that to this day you tu didn't have a single ex to your name. You had been so determined to achieve academic perfection that you had pushed any potential distraction out of your way. And now, with the possibility of a breakthrough on the horizon, you were terrified.

If love struck, would you be able to fight back?

"Let's not close any doors to the future," pointed Eris, laying down the lovers' card, “especially with a card like the one we have for the globality of this reading.”

She picked up the Empress card, presenting it to you again as if you were the artist's inspiration for this illustration.

"The Empress is the card of creation and fertility."

You recoiled slightly in surprise. "Please don't tell me that by some misfortune I'm going to get pregnant."

"It's not necessarily fertility in the literal sense, although that's part of it in certain specific cases," she cackled as her attention returned to the card. "It's the card of generation from within yourself. You have to have depth if you want to create, because to create is to bring something out of yourself. If the creative process is so mysterious, it's because it takes place in our deepest recesses. She is depicted in a sensual pose, creation being a matter of love and pleasure, as much in the flesh as in the intellect, because ideas germinate in the mind that conceives them."

You looked at the cards again, frowning.

"I see you're beginning to understand."

"So," you tried to summarise, "taking a step back from the situation and creating my own convictions is going to lead me to... fuck my way up to the top?"

Eris bobbed her head like one of those spring-loaded dolls, rolling her eyes at the sky. "Among other things." She put the card down, pointing as she had before at each symbol. "Three is a creation number, given that if you put 1+1 and turn off the light, it's through their power of generation, sexual, that they will become 3 by creating a child." She moved her finger. "The ball-shaped sceptre represents the total domination of the Empress of the Earth. Her crown extends her reign over the entire cycle of the year. The stars are six-pointed, the triangle forwards and backwards: her power is both material and nature, spiritual and intelligence," she explained, her hands weighing the words out like a balance.

Your eyes drifted back to the Two of Wands, resting on the globe the man held.

"The eagle on the shield of the Original Tarot represents intelligence; this bird flies high and has a piercing gaze. However, its wing is still in its infancy. Its creativity has no other purpose than itself, so it can fly off in all directions without producing anything usable. The Emperor's eagle, on the other hand, will be complete because it will have added what the Empress lacks in order to master the whole process of the material world."

She exchanged a look with you. "She represents the creation of harmony from disordered elements so that the matter develops freely, like building a system or a plan. It's also femininity in full bloom, sensual, self-confident, seductive," she winked at you in an exaggerated way that made you smile. "It's about building a relationship for mutual development, but not only that." She moistened her lips. "It's what you create out of yourself, the protector, the one who cares, who develops, who accompanies. The one who helps a company, a group or a project to grow."

She straightened up after this listing. "Something is born, brought into being, cultivated or made to believe: a vocation - possibilities. It's Abundance, and being ready to share its wealth with others, out of pleasure and love." She turned her eyes for a moment to the fire in the fireplace. "A simple ‘want’ is not enough to move the fixtures that business creation requires, nor is a desire rooted in selfishness or hatred, like doing something only to break someone else."

She described a loose, descriptive movement over the cards with her arm. "So the Empress represents the power of generation, naked creativity, cool. But there's something missing," she smiled, "someone who's very creative can give birth to a whole bunch of great ideas... without ever achieving anything, because they go off in all directions." She turned to the deck and the card the Empress was covering. "You need structure and discipline for that."

She grabbed the card, bringing it close to the Empress's, and your lips parted in shock. 

“The Emperor will bring them both to us.”

The Emperor's card was there, its presence unchanged, its meaning weighing on your warming heart. She placed the last two cards on the table with an air of satisfaction. You looked at the deck for a moment, the cards interlocking. You took the Empress's card in your hand, hovering over every detail of ink and colour on it.

Was it really you? This charismatic, strong-willed being? Could you really become this, this abundant being?

"Wow," you breathed, setting the card down on the table as Eris picked up her sisters to put them away again and you slumped back on the sofa. "That's something."

"Yup," Eris confirmed.

You bit the inside of your cheek for a moment as your eyes drifted towards the fire, thinking about the huge bag of information and truths that Eris had just dumped on your thoughts and that you were probably going to be thinking about for a very long time. And yet one name kept lingering in your mind.

"Say," you asked, your eyes returning to her, "why do you all think that Viktor and I could be... something?"

She giggled, leaving the deck on the table before resting her elbow on the arm of the sofa and resting her cheek on her fist. "You're asking me that as my first question after this reading?"

You sighed, your knee jerking repeatedly as you lowered your eyes to the floor. "Just... answer the question."

She knew there were certain limits to bickering. "Well," she began, "from what I've been hearing from you, you truly respect him, as in the name at the top of your 'list of respect'. He practically saved your life when you were fighting against your own stubbornness, and..." she seemed to search for words for a moment. "I get the impression that he's the person you make the most effort to be accepted by in your entourage."

"And... on a deeper level?"

"On a deeper level, in my humble opinion as the heart sister and friend you've known the longest in your life, I get the impression that, subconsciously, you're seeking his approval. Because now that he's given you a taste of what it was like to lose on your own ground and made you realise how much it was destroying you, you're grateful to him even if you refuse to admit it, to others and to yourself." She watched you for a moment, circling you under her skilful, sharp gaze. "I think he's the first one who's reached your level, and managed to keep up with you without ever tiring, always trying to bring out the parts of you that you don't show to others. And that scares you," she shook her head, "but I honestly think the fact that he's come into your life is the best thing that's happened to you in a long time."

That's what you liked about Eris, her honesty. She didn't care about hurting people's feelings or exposing them raw to the eyes of all, time was too short for pointless little lies, and she realised the truth of that very early on.

And you weren't offended, but you felt stripped bare by her words. That was probably what frightened you, finding yourself and the truth shining through for everyone to see. That was probably why the lovers were undressed. They saw each other stripped of all lies, hearts open as they created harmony.

Only two people knew you completely - the two members of your family. But that you could find someone who wasn't part of this circle and who saw all these things in you and accepted them no matter what, to lead you towards the best? It was new, and there's nothing more terrifying than the new. But surely, that was the lesson of the cards.

Yet your train of thought was interrupted when two figures you recognised all too well entered the hall.

"I think," you croaked, Eris following your gaze and turning towards them.

Jayce and Viktor, in casual clothes, were approaching you.

Eris turned back to you, shocked and shaking her head. "Is that what you call not bad?!" she almost shouted in her whisper.

You shrugged your shoulders and shook your hands. "I said by most standards!"

"I'm going to end up having heart attacks if your judgement's this poor."

"Hey there!" called Jayce as he approached. "Didn't think I'd find you here."

He wore a charming smile, dressed in a chunky cream hoodie and brown jogging bottoms. You'd already described to Eris what Jayce looked like, bringing back one of the class photos from your year so she could really see him.

Viktor, on the other hand, was wearing a brown turtleneck covered by a black cardigan, as were his wide pleated plaid trousers. He was frowning, his eyes shifting from you to Eris in confusion.

Eris turned to you, waiting for you to make the introductions.

"Jayce, Viktor," you pointed at Eris, "this is Eris. My sister."

"Pleased to meet you, Jayce," the latter smiled, extending his hand to shake hers as Eris stood up.

"Eris," she replied as Jayce gave way to his sidekick.

"Viktor," he said, squeezing her hand.

"I know," Eris smiled proudly as she turned her gaze back to you, "I've heard a lot about you."

You pressed your tongue lightly against the inside of your mouth as you laughed tiredly. Of course, now that he was here, she was going to be as playful as could be.

"Really?" said Viktor, surprised as he turned to you.

"Absolutely," Eris replied.

"You never mentioned Eris was your sister," Jayce remarked.

"Best friend, sister, it's the same thing to me," you answered simply.

"Is that a Tarot deck I see here?" remarked Viktor.

Jayce riveted his eyes on the object. "You guys were playing?" he asked curiously.

"Eris was giving me a reading for the times ahead and other advice," you corrected.

"I'm a professional reader," she confirmed, "that's my job."

"How does that work?" asked Jayce, his eyes lighting up with the excitement of discovering something new.

"I can do a reading for you if it's okay with your schedule?" she suggested.

"Oh, we're just here to read and chat by the fire, nothing will be disturbed," Viktor assured her, resting his eyes on yours.

"All right then, let's go," she said, grabbing the deck. 

Without missing a beat, Jayce took his place on the sofa where Eris was sitting. Viktor exchanged a glance with you, and you shrugged your shoulders and pointed to the seat next to you. Eris's words echoed as the leather slumped not far from you and Viktor placed his cane against the table.

"Alright, let me explain," began Eris as she rolled up her sleeves to reveal her tattoos. 

Jayce seemed blown away by them, and you could feel his lips burning with the famous ‘did these hurt?’ which he never dared to say.

"I'm going to shuffle the cards so they're well mixed, then I'm going to...’’

But the conversation slowly faded into the background when Viktor spoke to you.

"I didn't think you'd dress like this on the daily," his voice was low, obviously not wishing to disturb the explanation to Jayce who seemed far too excited for this activity.

"What, you thought I slept in my uniform or something?" you questioned back.

He shrugged. "A bit."

You couldn't help but crack a smile before redirecting your gaze to Eris, looking at you both with a knowing glance.

Your smile faded as you straightened up, curious to see what Jayce would come up with.

"So all I have to do is take three cards?" he asked again.

"Yes," confirmed Eris.

"And can I show them or not?"

"Jayce, it's not a magic trick," informed Viktor.

Jayce turned to you, apparently waiting for your opinion too.

"Just pick three cards Jayce, the ones that call to you the most," you replied, resting your cheek on your fist.

"How do I know if they're calling me?" he questioned.

Viktor was already bringing his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose as Eris explained again. "Just take the cards you wish to take."

He straightened. "There are no traps are there?"

You and Viktor sighed in unison as you just urged him to take his damned cards.

"Alright, alright fine," sighed the latter, raising his hands in the air, "left hand, right?" he asked to Eris.

"Yes," confirmed the witch.

"Right - off I go."

You exchanged glances with Viktor, both of you rolling your eyes as Jayce finally picked up his first card.

"Where do you want me to put it?"

"Anywhere," laughed Eris. "Jayce, you can't make any mistakes with tarot, you know that, right?"

‘’Right,‘’ he nodded, placing the first card in front of him above the card line.

The ace of Pentacle arrived on the table.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Jayce asked immediately.

"That depends on what you draw next," laughed Eris, “just keep pulling.’’

Jayce then drew the eight of pentacles, immediately turning to Eris to gauge her reaction as she looked at him with eyes that said ‘you know what I'm going to say’.

He then drew his last card, the nine of cups.

"Okay," smiled Eris as she picked up the rest of the cards and gathered them into a compact pile, turning it over and smiling at Jayce.

"Is it good?" He asked, turning to you and Viktor.

"It's horrible," you breathed.

His face decomposed. "Is it?"

"No, I just said that to tease you, you've got a good game," you turned to Eris, “right?"

She giggled, uncovering the sun like shadow card.

"It's splendid, my dears."

Joy returned to Jayce's face like a dog presented with a bone. Viktor propped his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers as he watched the set.

"Well," began Eris, clearing her throat, "I'm going to proceed as I usually do with my dear inexterminable microbe here and make a simple reading. One card for the past," she rested her fingers on the Ace of Pentacles, “one for the present,” on the Eight of Pentacles, “one for the future,” on the Nine of Cups, “and one card that will give the overall colour to the spread and potentially give us some advice.”

"Okay," Jayce replied, eager to hear what she had to say.

"First of all, we have the Ace of Pentacles. The Ace is used to place us in the field we're going to work in; for this one it's the material field, and this one is fraught with possibilities."

She took the card in her hand and turned to an angle where you could all see the card. 

"The divine hand emerging from the clouds reminds us that the material realm, like the others, is a given; it's up to us to do something with it. A garden of lilies is traversed by an alley that passes under an arch, flowered with roses and leading to the mountains. Thought is born of matter and, in any case, you can't rise without the necessary material foundations. As for the pentacle, it's a sign of protection - upright, it's a representation of man with his head, or spirituality and consciousness, at the top and his two feet at the bottom, anchored in the earth. That's the attitude you need if you want to prosper in and with the world."

"Am I in the right inclination?" asked Jayce.

"Absolutely," reassured Eris. "Now that we know all these elements, how can this help us? Well, the Ace of Pentacles represents a material opportunity, something to be developed in the concrete domain. It's the birth of a new interest or a new energy in the material and financial spheres. Didn't you have a career change last summer or something like that?"

‘’Yes,‘’ Jayce exclaimed, ‘’how do you know?" He turned to you. "Did you talk to her about it?"

"Talked about what?" you said with a shrug. "I'd only told her about the explosion in your flat and my concerns about your trial, that's all."

He seemed to soften at the word "concern".

"In any case," continued Eris, "the Ace of Pentacles often represents a job offer and the possibility of professional advancement. It's synonymous with a new project, and sometimes an influx of money from an unforeseen or unexpected source.”

You thought back to the few bills he had given you without any difficulty so that you could purchase a dress.

"That's incredible," he mumbled, all surprised, "don't you think, Vik?"

"Yes," he admitted, "but I'm waiting to see the whole result.’ 

"Let's move on to the present, the Eight of Pentacles," she put down the Ace to take the next card. "We remain in the realm of the material and following the financial influx that the Ace of Pentacles was able to bring, there is the expression of the free with the eight and the lemniscate for its infinity. We have the talent, the materials, the knowledge and the ability to concentrate, so we can produce without hindrance."

Jayce seemed to be hanging on her every word, while Viktor seemed increasingly interested and methodically observant.

Eris's slender finger traced along the card. “The Pentacles are neatly lined up on the fully-covered beam and spill out onto the floor, and the craftsman has so many of them that he doesn't know where to put them. The bench can be seen as a representation of the skills he can rely on. The small village behind could mean that the craftsman can devote himself freely to his work because he knows that the other members of society will provide for his other needs." She turned to Jayce. "I suppose living here in such a small flat can't be very practical for carrying out your projects - is your apartment still being refurbished?"

Jayce looked at her with wide eyes, turning to Viktor who maintained an inflexible phlegm, but you knew him well enough by now to recognise that he was intrigued by this discussion.

"How do you know that-"

"I don't know anything," smiled Eris, "I just read the cards and follow my intuition which, luckily, is rarely wrong."

"Well, that's just it," Jayce breathed, turning to you, "I got the go-ahead yesterday to move back into the flat."

You straightened. "You're moving out?"

"We're moving out," Viktor corrected.

The news, strangely enough, fell on you like a weight. Your eyes darted back and forth between Viktor and Jayce.

"When are you leaving?" you asked.

"Tomorrow morning," Jayce replied. "We finished packing up a few things today. We were going to come and see you later to tell you the news but," he smiled, "you were already here."

You turned to Viktor, who lowered his eyes. 'Just here to read and chat by the fire,' as he'd said. Why hadn't he just said they wanted to talk to you? Why did he change the subject?

You should have been relieved, to finally be rid of him on a daily basis, but you couldn't. 

"What about the future?" asked Jayce as he turned back to the deck. "What's announced?"

You tried to digest the information as quickly as he had, but it was simply impossible. You forced yourself to, letting Eris resume her explanation as your heart seemed to weigh its weight down your throat.

"The Nine of Cups is pure and simple satisfaction. The Nine is the very last single-digit number, so it's an achievement. But the Nine is still an accomplishment in the weakest sense of the word, because it shows us what it's like when you see something through to the end - you don't go beyond anything, you just achieve it and that's all there is to it. For cups, it's 'filling the feeling of lack to the end, to the point of satisfaction’." She pinched the card between her two fingers, twisting it back and forth. "It's wish fulfillment, getting what you want. It's not having to ask anymore, it's one partner always there for the other no matter what, and the other counting on it."

Eris's eyes moved from Viktor to Jayce with a gentle glance.

"And the sun assures us of this with its warm presence. It brings self-confidence, the ability to assert oneself with kindness and to share happiness and the joy of life." She put the card down again, bringing the reading to a close. “I don't know what you're working on, but I hope it's something good for the world.”

Jayce exchanged a knowing smile with Viktor, who always returned it with mischief in his eyes.

"Well, that's really surprising!" Jayce exclaimed. "It's so right... I didn't know you could deduce all those things from cards."

"There's nothing random about arcane blades," asserted Eris. She turned to Viktor. "Would you like one too?"

He seemed taken by surprise, parting his lips and lifting his chin with his hands as his eyes moved from Jayce, to Eris, to you.

"I," he cleared his throat, "I don't know if this thing is really for me."

Viktor? Hesitating? That was definitely new.

"What," you chuckled as you turned to him, "scared the cards are going to be bad?"

"I'm not particularly fond of the idea that they could be right and doom me to think that I am doomed." Viktor explained. "What if they are bad?"

"What if they're not?" you suggested with a shrugged smile.

He considered you for a moment. "Haven't you ever regretted one of the readings Miss Eris here made for you?" 

You sighed heavily. "It's sometimes painful," you returned Eris's gaze for a moment, she wore an infectious smirk that wasted no time in stretching your own lips to the side, "I have a very distinct one in mind that I deeply disliked. But..." you looked back at Viktor, "the cards were right, and for the better. Believe me."

He remained motionless for a moment, finally nodding.

"Alright," he nodded, turning to Eris who was already shuffling the cards. 

She made a perfect line of cards, and Viktor moved his left hand forward to take his first card.

The Ace of Swords. 

Viktor drew a second, and you frowned.

The Knight of Pentacles. Your tarot was a real player when it came to pulling out cards apparently.

"Him again," you breathed.

"What do you mean again?" questioned Eris.

"I'll explain some other time."

"And the last one?" asked Eris as Viktor picked up another card.

Page of Cups.

Having two aces as first cards for both acolytes was interesting.

"Intriguing," admitted Eris as she collected the cards into a single deck to observe the shadow card.

Her eyes landed on you, stunned. You could feel what was about to happen.

"No," you breathed, "not him."

"Yes," confirmed Eris, "him."

Eris then held up the Emperor's card, and you brought your fingers up to pinch the bridge of your nose.

"That bad?" inquired Viktor, surprised.

"No, it's not bad," you laughed to yourself for a moment, turning your gaze to his. "The cards are just very playful, that's all."

Eris set the deck down on the table, the Emperor facing Viktor.

"I suppose you met this Emperor in another reading?" he suggested.

You moistened your lips, tilting your head to the side. "Not just that."

Eris laughed with her nose, catching herself as she straightened up.

"One day," you said to Viktor, "I'll explain the whys and wherefores, don't worry."

He nodded weakly, turning to Eris. He seemed a little nervous, and you were discovering this phenomenon in him. He could be tense, but nervous?

"To begin with, then, the Ace of Swords, like the Ace of Pentacles, is a possibility, a spark that hasn't yet produced anything, but which puts us in the right field. The crown indicates that intelligence is the queen faculty. The palm on the right and the laurel branch on the left are symbols of victory."

Viktor like victory, of course.

"Intelligence is the highest of our faculties, enabling us to rise to the highest heights; it is what makes us a thinking creature. As for the mountains, they represent elevation, the sometimes arid and cold summits of thought. It's a card that represents intelligence and the fact that you can count on it in any situation."

Viktor turned to you, smiling. "You'd rather have that card for yourself than for me, wouldn't you?"

You chuckled. "Maybe once, but now I'm leaving it to you."

He seemed surprised by your answer for a moment, pressing his lips together for a second as he turned back to Eris who was changing cards.

"Now it's the Knight of Pentacles' turn. He represents reliability. He's down to earth, he does what needs to be done without question. This is the card of routine. In terms of symbols, on his helmet and in the horse's ears, there are oak leaves to remind us of what is rooted, powerful and takes time. The soil has furrows in it, so it's about being rooted to the earth, about regular, long, cyclical work like farming, where you have to show stamina and well-applied physical strength.’

"My perfect picture, I am the very definition of athleticism while my colleague Jayce Talis the skinny watches me do my thing in my corner," Viktor joked as he retrieved his cane in hand.

"Don't put the blame on me," interjected Jayce, "I offered to train at least your upper body when you sometimes come with me to the forge."

Viktor rolled his eyes, waiting for the rest of what Eris had to say.

"In any case, the Knight of Pentacles is the definition of moving slowly but surely, with methods that may not be original, but are tried and tested. It's a knight slow to anger who won't take the first step without being reassured of the other's intentions. If there is to be a meeting, it must take time to develop into a solid friendship before it is possible to move on to something more."

Viktor seemed to be playing with his cane, but was listening carefully to what Eris had to say. You remembered the day you read the information on the Knight of Pentacles' card. Physical and sensual. You began to blame the fire in the fireplace for the heat that was rising in your cheeks.

"Now let's move on to our last blade, the Page of Cups." She picked up the card in question. "The Page of Cups discovers, so in the emotional frame of the Cups, he discovers an idea. We welcome new information; we examine a way of thinking or a way of relating facts, of news that affects us."

Again she began to point to the various symbols one by one as you bent to see them better.

"The little fish swimming in the cup, to which the Page gives a sympathetic ear, represents the little voice of intuition, that elusive mystery that lives in our depths and sometimes comes to speak to us. The water lily flowers on his shirt can refer to sleep and the messages of dreams, as well as to the sacred nature of sensitivity that takes root in the depths. On all the cut figures, the water represents the changing and fluid nature of emotions, as well as their depth."

She placed the card on the table. "This is the card of announcement, of wonder, of joy, of something that touches. I should point out that it's still a card that's recognised as being very romantic, but not only that. It's the card of love, but it's also the card of a new friendship, the one that makes you discover that you really care about someone."

You bit the inside of your lips, the heat spreading from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, which you covered with your hand, a ghostly memory of Viktor's breath washing over you.

"At last," Eris grasped the Emperor's card, "the card of stability and anchoring that is the Emperor represents you here."

"Me? The Emperor?" repeated Viktor, pointing his finger at himself.

"Yes," you said under your breath.

He turned to you for a moment, and you knew full well that when he found the time to discuss it with you, he wouldn't miss the opportunity.

"The Emperor completes the Empress's teaching by introducing the idea of rule, law and structure. Discipline doesn't mean giving in to the first distraction. He is a man who teaches us to take responsibility without deviating, to defend our principles without failing, to be obedient without letting ourselves be influenced. That's where his authority comes from,this lucid examination - it's the foundation that makes us sure, and allows us to act without wavering." She then placed the card back on the deck, closing the reading.

You had a feeling that Viktor wouldn't be the only one thinking about this reading. The cards reflected each other so perfectly it was impressive.

"Any questions?" Eris asked simply as she gathered up the cards and put them back in the box.

"How long have you been practising," Jayce asked, turning to her.

"I'd say... seven years?" she said, turning to you to make sure she was right.

"And a half," you added as she handed you the box of your tarot.

"Is this yours?" asked Viktor.

"Yes, I draw one every morning to see what the day has in store or for advice," you explained.

Viktor turned to Eris and said, "Where do you practise?"

"In one of the streets on the entresol level." 

"Could I have the address?"

She seemed as surprised as you, glancing at you then back to Viktor. "An interest in spirituality?"

He exchanged a look with you. "Now, yes."

After giving her shop address to Viktor, he and Jayce excused themselves and left to make sure all the boxes and other luggage were ready for the next day's departure.

You and Eris were back upstairs, you preparing the evening meal while she rushed to the shower to warm up from the absence of the fire she already missed so much.

You couldn't stop thinking about Viktor, about the changes, the ideas swarming around in your mind without ever finding respite or giving you any. You felt that the fact that he would no longer be in the building tomorrow gave you the impression that his absence would force you to think only of him.

But another subject was about to hit you, bitter, fearsome.

Eris stepped out of the shower, droplets of water beading from her hair and running down her tattooed arms. She crossed her arms seriously, pressing her shoulder against the doorframe as she crossed her leg.

"Do you remember my letter, when I mentioned there was something I needed to talk to you about?"

You stirred the forest pan over the stove, not looking away from the task as you expected mere gossip in the rising streets of Zaun. "Mhm?"

She sighed, watching you sternly.

"The child disappearances have started up again."

You froze in your tracks, the sound of the hood and the oil cooking the vegetables fading into a distant blur of sound.

You turned to Eris, almost trying to get her to repeat what she'd just said, as if she'd just resurrected an entire graveyard. "What?"

"Not just in Zaun," she continued, just as austerely, "I've had customers from Piltover. It's starting here too. It's very small and tiny as a disappearance compared to Zaun, but it's still there."

"Are you absolutely sure?" you asked, registering this information almost robotically.

She nodded. "When Renata Glasc came into my shop and I performed her reading, she said his name."

You huffed, as if someone had just punched you in the stomach and expelled all the air your lungs held.

"Is the situation under hand?"

"Glasc is on it from what I know." 

You huffed with difficulty. "Could you um..." you felt your throat tighten, "could you continue cooking? I think I need a shower.

She smiled at you, a thin, empathetic one. "Take all the time you need."

"Thank you," you barely managed to say before moving towards the bathroom and carefully closing the door behind you.

Silently, with hasty movements as if all your clothes were ten times too hot on your skin, you got rid of each layer at record speed and turned on the water.

Your whole body was shaking like a leaf, your breath coming fast as you passed under the hot spray. Your eyes clouded over in a blur of tears, your whole face tensing, your brow furrowing as your nose scrunched up and your lips curled. You drew a huge, rapid, jerky breath, anger and despair contorting every feature of your face until your forehead ached as your hands ran over them as if trying to erase it, to dilute it under the shower water until everything was smooth and clean and you were pure again.

Your back jolted despite the warmth of the water running down your spine, the sobs attacking you as you placed one hand on the wall to keep yourself upright while the second pressed against your mouth to prevent any sound escaping from the prison bars of your fingers.

You only gave yourself a few moments to cry before letting the salt on your cheeks be washed away by the clear water of Piltover and turning off the shower. You didn't want to abuse it, even if all the drops it could have spilled down your body would never have been enough to bring the rain that would wash away the past.

Today had been too full changes, of emotions, of movements and unpredictable things that weighed on your mind like an elephant.

When you got out of the shower, Eris had already prepared the table and served your two plates.

"You know," she said with her mouth full, raising her fork in the air, "it's a bit hard to tell how you and Viktor stand."

You were still relieved at Eris's understanding. She had seen you cry very little over the years, the habit of choosing the excuse of the shower to have a moment when your sensitivity could take over and go beyond the limit of your eyes having come early in your friendship. And when you came back, she always had a different subject to discuss to take your mind off things.

With a tired smile, you took the chair opposite her and sat down.

"What do you mean?"

She took care to chew her mouthful to the end, winding her index finger in the air to ask you to wait. "Well," she finally swallowed, "I saw you staring at each other. I just can't be certain if it was sexual tension or murderous rage."

You let out a small laugh, your eyes still stinging from your tears and wrinkling with admiration for her.

The evening continued on a variety of topics, with countless teases about Viktor, who seemed to be burning a hole in her lip.

And when you both went to bed to find respite, the walk in the cold having knocked Eris out with sleep, yours didn't come. The cards all came back into your head like emblematic figures from a distant story, a fairy tale with final lessons for little children.

You thought of the Empress and the Emperor. You thought of yourself, of Viktor.

The same warm palpitations in your heart and stomach returned as you thought of him. You brought one to the one, the second to the other, like a stethoscope trying to discern any worries or disturbances.

It was warm and sweet - it was a hope that sprang up in your soul and filled you completely.

Did the Empress have a metaphorical womb pregnant with a budding love, ready to grow?

You thought back to Eris's words.

I think he's the first one who's reached your level, and managed to keep up with you without ever tiring, always trying to bring out the parts of you that you don't show to others.

Was it the warmth that sprang up deep inside you, like a candle in the darkness of a cavern containing thousands of crystals ready to sparkle, that he brought out?

When morning came, you had given up on the idea of sleeping and sat on your windowsill to watch the sun emerge in the distance.

You had thought for so long in the silence of this room that the inside of your body was a constant echo of thoughts reverberating against the walls of your skin and every corner of your mind. The sun was the first to say hello, and you smiled at it as it caressed your cheek with its warmth.

You'd fought with it so much that it had made your cheeks red. And you wanted to catch him, to hold him close to your chest so that he could feel the warmth of your heart, so much so that the night fell away. And now that you'd got to know the moon thanks to him, you told yourself that you'd just put everything out like a poor cigarette. But we're talking about the moon, and the sun, that's not nothing.

His reality had made the wheat grow, and the truth had made men eat, but reality was coming towards you little by little with a flag, staggering.

Down below, approaching the building in the soft silence of the morning and the waking city, a van pulled up.

The day was here, and you wanted to bury it in a suitcase to let the night stay a little longer, to keep the moonlight on your skin and in the glow of your eyes.

Your gaze turned away from the truck for a moment, back to the dressing room. The coat.

In the greatest of hasty silences, you pulled on a heavy jumper, trotting on tiptoe to the dressing room to pick up the coat that still had his smell on it. You gently turned the key to the apartment, moving from the silence of the bedroom to that of the corridor bathed in half-light. 

You hurried down the stairs, praying that the van hadn't left, that they hadn't left, and that you'd be able to say ‘see you soon’.

When you got downstairs, Viktor was standing in front of the entrance, just beyond the door, outside, with his back to you.

You inhaled, trying to hide your miserable gasping breath deep in your chest.

You were moving forward, feeling cold. The coat could have given you that warmth, but you didn't put it on. Your hand came to rest on the handle of the golden door, and you pushed it open despite the trembling you presumed to be due to the fatigue of a sleepless night.

Viktor turned and his eyes fell on you. His expression wasn't wide with surprise, and his eyebrows weren't furrowed, but you could feel a flicker of regret on his face that was swept away as soon as he realised it was you.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the stillness of the morning making you both feel as if the whole town would wake up at once if you spoke.

"Hey," you managed to say softly.

He gave a surprised little smile. "Hey."

You breathed in, swallowing as you tried to work out if all the ideas you'd been fed about him wanted to come back through your throat.

"So uh," you jerked your chin towards the van, "you're all set to go?”

Miserable small talk.

Viktor looked at you calmly. “The removal man is still inside picking up the rest of the boxes."

"Oh," you nodded, "Jayce isn't with you?"

"He's gone to the flat to settle the last few things that needed his attention."

His eyes never left you, his face a peaceful, unchanged emotion. It feels like a dream, you thought, but it's not, and that's probably the most reassuring thing about it.

You tightened your grip on the coat slightly, and finally let the breath you'd been holding expel itself from your lungs.

"You're fierce as my rival," you admitted, "but I think I prefer you better when you're not."

Viktor remained motionless for a moment, the light breeze in the air combing a few strands of his hair. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, barely rising.

"What good is a truce if we're not rivals anymore, then?" he asked.

"The truce can just turn into a deal," you suggested almost hastily, "a friends' deal."

He smiled at last, and your stomach warmed in the dead of winter.

"Friends," he repeated as if testing the taste the word had in his mouth, "I like the sound of that."

You smiled back, and relief washed over you.

He changed the grip on his cane, straightening up. "Any clauses you want to add to the truce, Miss?"

You couldn't help asking. "Why do you call me Miss all the time?"

His eyes remained serenely in yours, silently letting a moment pass.

"I can't say yet. Someday, maybe," he replied as if he'd just come back from somewhere else.

You nodded. "Alright." You straightened your back and cleared your throat before raising your eyebrows. "I just have one clause then."

"Go on," he nodded, curious.

A satisfied smirk spread across your face. "All your coffees are free if you come by the Brown Bitt, so you better come often with such an offer."

He laughed softly, his eyes dropping to his shoes for a moment before returning to yours.

"I'd be a fool to refuse such a discount."

"Well," you shrugged, "there is some kind of dignity being the first fool of the academy."

"Last time I checked," he said, raising an eyebrow, "you're the first of the Academy."

"Last time I checked with Eris, one and two together make the three of creativity." You smiled. "What did Heimerdinger say again? About us joining our forces for the presentation."

Viktor sighed, starting to recite. "There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class - you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly. None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you."

"Teamwork," you both pronounced, nodding and smiling.

"You remember it so vividly," you grinned, impressed.

He nodded. "Eh, better have a sharp memory and wit to follow with Heimerdinger, if you can't race."

Your lips parted, remembering a little too well the first day we worked together. "Please tell me Jayce never heard of this."

"I recite your words to him every night before sleeping like a prayer," he sneered.

Another moment of silence passed, both your breaths billowing in the air.

"When we’re all settled," he finally said, "come to the flat."

You clasped your hands together. "Is that a challenge?"

"No," he chuckled, "just an invitation."

“As long as you don't organise masquerades in Jayce's apartment every other night, I will."

"Nah," he admitted as the wrinkles in his nose crinkled for a moment, "we keep that outside our explosive apartment."

It was refreshing to be able to listen to Viktor's comments and not find annoyance in them, just laughter.

"Speaking of masquerades," you realised as you handed him his perfectly smooth coat, "I took care of it."

His leather-gloved fingers closed over the dark fabric.

"I'm sure you did," he said, his eyes moving from the fabric to yours.

Behind you, you heard the distinct sound of castors on the floor of the hall, and turned towards the man dragging a trolley with a few boxes piled on it.

"All clean," he warned as he passed you both and began to stack the boxes in the back of the vehicle.

He quickly closed the boot and climbed into the front seat next to the steering wheel.

"See you to the demacia boarding airship?" asked Viktor.

You smiled. "Don't be late."

He gave you one last smile.

"No chance."

✦﹒ previous chapter ✦﹒ next chapter

taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt @enoojnij @stilinskisensation @emlovesya @soupsaurus @luvreadingfics @the-valars-sapphire @solbringer @adorabluesposts @pxszels @nerolovesseongjiyuk @cyberwears @cryptidcut @seohaepeachyun @danielsbackupglasses @2hiigh2cry @16novvs @cicadastoner @patchs-cuiosity-corner @w41k3r-94290 @minniiv @roku907 @lumilarity @peachy-writings @disturbyn

[candywrithee]

R ur requests open??? Can I please get a gender bent Rarity, Applejack, and Twilight x fem (or gn if you don't do fem specifically) Pegasus reader headcanons pretty please 🥺 idk if you do NSFW but if you don't I don't mind just fluff

Please I'm desperate🙏🙏 ❤️❤️❤️✨✨❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🙏

Aight. No gender mentioned really :P

Dusk Shine, Elusive & Applejack w/a Pegasus Reader

1. Dusk Shine + Reader

Unicorn! Dusk will probably be annoyed if you're the type to prank him just because you can fly. But what you didn't know is that he just lets you prank him. You should know that by a spark of his magic, he can easily stop your pranks but he loves you too much that he loves to see you smile.

If you don't mind, can you help him carry or deliver things for him? Of course that is if you don't mind. He's just a little busy so he would appreciate your help in any way. Even if sometimes you have to convince HIM to let you help. He's a loner, he's used to being alone but then you swoop in into his personal space and he doesn't know what to do.

Alicorn! Dusk is a little more open. He still likes being alone but now he doesn't mind or grumble to anypony wanting to hang out with him. Therefore, you are more than allowed to be more lovey dovey with him just as long as you know how to limit them. He's still a little shy.

Now that he has wings, you two can fly together now! Which lead to a lot of fun small races against each other. More than once, ponies of equestria can see blurs of two different colours in the sky and Rainbow Blitz interrupting y'all to join in the race.

Overall, whichever Dusk is, he still loves you in his own interesting way.

"DUUUUUSK JUST LET ME HELP!"

"Fine but don't complain when you're in the middle of doing it." He proceeds to hang you books and scrolls in a bag and kiss your forehead because he's not brave to kiss your cheek.

2. Elusive + Reader

Drama King and his unbothered lover or his whipped lover. Whichever dynamic you prefer.

Hope you don't mind dolling up for him. As soon as you step into his boutique, you getting dragged immediately to dress up. You're a perfect model to test out outfits for pegasuses. However if you told him to stop, he'll stop. He knows boundaries, he has them himself. Plus, he loves you.

He'll probably ask you to help him deliver and fetch things for him. No need to ask if you could help. You probably help him immediately if you noticed how panicked his state is in. Don't worry! He'll give you a kiss or an outfit when you've done your duty! Whichever you wanted more or comfortable with.

His little brother, Poppet Bell, loves you! Can you carry him? Bring him up to fly?? PLEEEEEEEEEEAAAAASEEE! If you gave into his puppy eyes, you'd make Elusive worried sick. Please don't fall or let his brother fall, as if you would.

"My dear, you truly gave me a scare when I suddenly saw you up with Poppet while I was in the market... Why did you even do that?"

"I succumbed to his puppy dog eyes hehe."

"Goodness my dear."

3. Applejack + Reader

Oh wow you're helpful for the farm. Is what applejack thinks at first. Please don't be mad at him, his whole life is contributed to his farm and family. But hey! At least you're now part of his family.

He won't force you into work (he also needs a little convincing) but if you did help him, you'd be too focused in what you're helping with to notice how he looks at you with basically apple hearts in his eyes. You had to find that out when Apple Buck gave pretended to vomit which embarrassed Applejack greatly. Macareina even told you that Applejack looks you the way their father looks at their mom, absolutely whipped. Don't even get me started on Grandpa Smith.

If you want, you can try racing against him like that one fall episode. He'll easily beat you or if you're very athletic, you can excel or match his pace. Either way, he'll comfort you and/or be proud of you.

"Can you help collect that side of the farm, sugar cube? It's okay if you don't want to hun."

"We talk about thiss.. I'll help you with anything you ask for!"

"Thank you sugar. I'm still not use to asking for help.."

"Bleugrh can you two lovebirds get back to apple picking already?!" You and Applejack proceed to laugh at Apple Buck's disgusted face but Applejack's laugh is more bashful.

[remussirion]

Facepaint: Used to be somewhat of the standard. Has to be applied to every outfit individually. Has a custom thumbnail.

Nondefault (eye color): Adds more swatches to the eye color section. No custom thumbnails or only very tiny ones. The section becomes very messy easily, but the eyes do not have to be applied to every outfit.

Skin detail/Eye detail (Occult eyesocket): Does not have to be applied to every outfit and has a custom thumbnail. Kinda the best of both worlds, but the category seems to be rather unpopular and CC in that section might be overlooked?

Any feedback is greatly appreciated! (Feel free to comment even after the poll has ended)

[asktheritochampion]

I’ve noticed that lots of your recent questions have been… quite violent. Either that or entirely nonsensical(*cough* Tulin *cough*). While those questions are quite interesting, and provide fascinating insight into many facets of your personality, I can’t imagine they’re easy to go through all day. As a return to the more mundane questions, what are your preferences towards baked goods? And are you aware of the other champion’s preferences?

I'll admit, it is a refreshing change to be asked something reltively mundane.

I personally don't eat a lot of baked goods, my diet is very protien and vegtable based to maintain by sleek and muscular form. However, I can appreciate Rito baking for special occations such as festivals and holidays.

My personal favourites of our traditional bakes are hot pepper windmills. They're a fairly simple butter pastry containing pepper jam and glazed in honey. Because Rito lack the heat/pain response from capsaicin, 'hot' peppers taste...well, just rather sweet and floral to us. Thus these pasteries are a sweet treat for Rito but almost inedible to most other races.

A few other worthy mentions would be bakes such as wildberry towers, which are small circles of fluffy vanilla cake filled with wildberries and jam. We grow a lot of wildberries in Hebra so wildberry cakes are fairly traditional at celebrations. We make them into thin, tall towers because Rito swalow our food whole and that's an easy shape for it.

There's also some fairly acceptable savoury bakes. A warrior pie is a pouch of shortcrust pastry filled with baked and spiced chicaloo nuts and acorns. Nuts are a very large part of the Rito diet and good for our digestion, and are a good sorce of protien in the winter when the meat is scarse. They're called warrior pies because they are sturdy for travel, keep for a long time, and are very dense to fill you up; so traditionally they're a food that warriors take with them into battle.

Then there's a baked good we Rito rather enjoy frightening Hylians with called a baked rat. Contrary to the name, it is not, in fact, a baked rodent. It's a sort of pancake-esq batter filled with finely chopped bird meat and potatos, usually coloured red with hot pepper juices, and glazed with a sugarcane shell and sprinkled with herbs. The gimick is that they 'burst' when you break them in half and look like the vicera of a dead animal, which is appealing to the preditor instincts of a Rito. The reason they became called baked rats is because during the harsh winters, sometimes bird meat would be scarce, and in times of famine when the Village has been unable to get meat, we've turned to other sorces of protien such as insects. For a long time it was traditional to add earth worms in replacement of meat, which people would tell their fledglings were 'rat tails' to make them seem less unapealing. It amuses me greatly that whenever a Hylian visits the village and see's a treat being consumed with the name 'baked rat' that the featherless blights tend to lose all color in their faces and make a hasty exit.

As for the other Champions, I'm unfamiliar with their preferences. Zora have a hard time processing a large amount of glutenous foods, thus most of their diet tends to avoid tabantha wheat. However I know Mipha has made cookies before using flour made from rice. I can't imagine Daruk eating many baked goods, as the Gorons typically consume mostly rocks. Due to my inability to enter Gerudo Town, I'm unaware of what foods are popular amongst the Gerudo, however I have seen Urbosa enjoy a variety of Hyllian bakes at the Castle.

Both the Princess and her little shadow practically gorge themselves on an enormous variety of baked treats when at the castle. There's forever servants rushing around, setting up lengthy tables with huge amounts of facinating foods - more than any one princess could ever eat. I couldn't name them all if I tried.

[agendabymooner]

colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (9)

toto w. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

Summary: Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: Tilly goes on a date with Toto after responding to an email that could potentially change the course of her career. Two words that explained their relationship and her career: Serious business.

Content warning: Use of explicit language, never edited these, Lewis Hamilton being a resident piece of shit, 2014, flirting, banters

Note: This is very old. A very old draft (I have two more chapters to post hehe), I know better than what I knew a year ago so please... bear with my old writings. enjoy xx

colour me your colour masterlist

f1 masterlists: a - n o - z

SENDER: Emily Smith [esmithªhearthautog.com]

TO: Tilly Marie [tilly.fordhearthªhotmail.com] 

[CONFIDENTIAL] Meeting Request: Paperwork Signing for Hearth Automotive Groups

Dear Miss Tilly Hearth,

I hope this email finds you well. We kindly request a meeting to discuss and sign the necessary paperwork regarding the ownership of Hearth Automotive Groups and its subsidiaries. The office was recently acquired to make certain changes as the owner, Mr. Julius Hearth, was given the promotion in an association of a different field. He believes that it is in his best interest to rename the owner and shareholders of his business and would like you to get involved in the process as well. 

To ensure a smooth process, we would greatly appreciate your presence during this meeting. It will provide an opportunity to address any concerns or queries you may have regarding the ownership transfer.

Proposed Meeting Details:

Date: July 8th, 2014

Time: 15:00 PM

If the proposed date and time are inconvenient, please let us know your availability, and we will do our best to accommodate your schedule.

Please bring any relevant identification documents and additional paperwork related to the ownership of the company and its subsidiaries.

Kindly confirm your availability and preferred meeting details by the sixth. You can reach me directly to this email. A notary will be contacted as soon as we’ve gotten a response from you. 

Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter. Finalizing the ownership paperwork is crucial for the smooth operation of Hearth Automotive Groups and its affiliated companies.

We look forward to meeting with you soon.

Best regards,

Emily J. Smith

Secretary to the Chairman

Hearth Automotive Groups

SENDER: Tilly Marie [tilly.fordhearthªhotmail.com] 

TO: Emily Smith [esmithªhearthautog.com]

RE: [CONFIDENTIAL] Meeting Request: Paperwork Signing for Hearth Automotive Groups

Good evening,

I will be there at the expected date and time. I am also expecting for Julius Hearth to be there if I were to sign and if I don’t get any confirmation from anyone prior to the meeting or I get a news that he wouldn’t be there because he couldn’t find any time, then consider my obligation nullified. I wouldn’t find any time for his company either. 

Thank you.

Kind regards,

Tilly Marie.

FRISKY TILLY: The Hearth Heiress Celebrates Red Bull’s P3 Finish with a Shoey

“Danny Ric and Lewis Hamilton brought the fun out of the distressed writer.”

“You have to admit, that’s a good headline,” Lewis says to me as he leans forward, eyes peering down on my screen as he reads the article. “Tilly Hearth, daughter of FIA Executive Julius Hearth, had gone wild as she, Red Bull’s Daniel Ricciardo celebrated his P3 finish alongside her best friend, the winner of the Silverstone Grand Prix, Lewis Hamilton— oh look, that's me!” 

Locking my phone shut, I look at Lewis with a frown. “You need to stop giving me that attitude,” Lewis huffs out petulantly, “I haven’t done anything today but land in the first place. And why aren’t you getting enough appetizer from the buffet? Haven’t you mentioned that you’re going to snack on some stuffed mushrooms?” 

Right. 

It’s been an hour since we left the venue. Now we’re inside a restaurant, feasting and celebrating Lewis’ home race. Regardless of whether or not he’d win, it’s a tradition to celebrate his home race with his family. I’m fortunate enough to celebrate with them this time. Plus, my sisters and mother are here—making Lewis even happier.

Stevie is sitting next to Lewis and on his right happens to be me. I’ve been trying my best to socialize with his sisters and brother, but my mind is occupied by one thought. Toto Wolff. 

Of course he isn’t here. It’s a family dinner. But his tall figure remains memorable (and his godlike figure after he was sprayed with champagne) and our plan for tonight remains in my mind. Fuck, I do need to get out soon. 

Clearing my throat, Nicholas shoots me a questioning look as I lean forward and murmur, “I need to get out soon, Nico.” 

“Oh?” Nicholas asks me quietly. He, too, leans forward, making Sylvie and Lewis look in our direction while he continues to ask, “Why?” 

“I’ve got an agenda to follow,” I answered quietly.

“A date?” He asks. I nod. “Wait. Is this the lad that Lewis talks about?” 

“Lewis is talking about what—now?” The man next to me also leans over in our direction. Sylvie’s curiosity got the best of her as she finally gave in and leaned.

“Sylvie— go eat or something—“ I hissed, trying to shoo her away, “the adults are talking.” 

“No—“ she whisper-shouts, “are you going to see Toto?” 

Lewis, hearing the name finally, leans back and smirks at my direction. The smug little bast— I reach out and pinch him in his side as he lets out a groan, trying to get out of my grasp as he accidentally leans back at Stevie. The noise gathers the attention of the older people as they look at our direction, wondering what the hell is going on. 

“Tilly,” Maman calls from the other side of the table, sitting next to Lewis’ mother as she continues, “Don’t do that to Lewis.” 

“Oh nothing’s happening, Maman,” Sylvie denies helplessly. “I think an ant got to Lewis’ polo and it’s pinching him.” 

Maman and the other adults laugh at the sight in front of them before they return to their conversations. I pull my hand away from Lewis. 

“If you want me to go on a date with your boss, quit teasing,” I warn him with a glare, “you’re making me want to chicken out.” 

“I’m not going to let you dip out,” he shakes his head insistently, “not when it’s my boss and my best friend.”

“I thought you had to go soon?” Nicholas asks with a frown, “why are you still here?” 

There’s a vibration coming from Lewis’ pocket, making him grunt in annoyance before he pulls out his phone to see which person decides to text him this time. He suddenly looks up at me with a grin and says, “He’s outside.” 

What? I don’t recall telling him to pick me up here? 

“I told him you were heading here before I pulled you out of your team’s debriefing,” he explains before he pulls up my purse and jacket. “I knew you planned on going out with him tonight but I pulled you for a family dinner.” Slipping on my light coat, my movement catches the eyes of the adults once more as I stand up.

“Where are you going, love? Finishing dinner so soon?” Lewis’ mother asks me. 

Lewis answers her with, “She’s having one someplace else, Mum. She just came with us to celebrate a little bit.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it!” Lewis’ father tells me with a cheeky grin, “Don’t enjoy it too much, though.” 

I roll my eyes with a smile, leaning forward to kiss Lewis on the cheek before saying, “I’ll text you when I get back.” 

“You better,” he mutters. “I did not set you up with Toto only for me to live under the rock.” 

“And I will see you all at the next celebration!” I exclaim at Lewis’ relatives. Walking away at the table, I then look back at my siblings before saying, “Maman, Stevie. Drive my Bentley?” 

Stevie’s smile widens as she nods eagerly, catching my car key as she lets out a loud ‘woo’ as I dash out of the restaurant. A black Mercedes is already parked at the front, making it easier for me to slip into the passenger seat with a cheeky smile. 

The Austrian, who remains handsome even after he was soaked by the champagne, smiles at the sight of me. “Have you eaten yet?” He asks.

“Hello,” I greet him, “No I haven’t. Have you?”

“I’m waiting for you,” he shrugs. 

I nod, “‘Kay good, because I am famished. Where are we off to?”

“I hope you are hungry for some Italian food,” he grins lazily. My hand takes the seat belt and buckles it in. 

“I can be hungry for anything,” I tell him with a laugh. “You can take me to a pub, I’ll be starving for a good fish and chips.”

He laughs heartily, his joyous expression brightening the dimming road as he begins driving off. 

I swore to myself that I wouldn’t read much into our conversation and strange affections. But I can’t help it; I keep finding myself wanting to hold his hand. There’s no such thing as proximity when I don’t want a space between us. 

Perhaps the bottle of cabernet sauvignon that the waiter served tastes better than usual. I have always been a sauvignon blanc kind, but there’s a hint of romance that comes with the red wine. As if it was a witchcraft of some sort. 

Ugh. Romance. Feelings. Butterflies in my stomach. It’s so 2004.

I still can’t help it. I could barely pay attention to the slice of pizza margherita in front of me. My eyes are looking at his handsome face as he continues to talk about his family in Austria. He speaks highly of them. He tells me about his home race— which was when Christian lost his shit when Mercedes took the P1. He tells me a lot about Austria and how I’ll like it there. Sounds a lot like the future, huh?

Then he asks me about myself— or whatever I have regarding that area of discussion. I only chuckle, “Haven’t I told you enough about my family?” 

“You did not tell me more about yourself, I am certain of that,” Toto tells me with interest. Finishing the rest of my wine, my hand reaches for the glass of water as the liquid almost immediately washes the intoxication away. “Tired of wine?” 

“Well I cannot be the only one drunk here,” I grin, “I’d hate to leave you sober by yourself. So… what would you like to know?” 

It started there. From the most superficial interests and opinions toward the most competitive team principals to my personal life. It was immediately uncovered by the time that I finished the rest of my food. 

“I personally didn’t think that you would be interested in this… what do I call this. Dinner,” I tell him meekly. “Normally, I would be rattling off about my little world and all I’d see is a man who’s practically begging me to shut up.”

“It’s a good thing that I don’t like normal,” he tells me with a smile. “It is quite foolish of them to think of you that way. Your words are more interesting than anyone else’s.” 

“Gee, thanks,” I murmured and joked, “where were you when I needed that boost of confidence?” 

“Something tells me that I was still working hard enough with Niki to sign Lewis to my team,” he says, “otherwise I wouldn’t have met you.” 

My face turns red, yet without any mention, I continue on, “You would have. Still met me I mean. But, it’s not going to be the same. I’d be even more miserable.” 

“If I had not met you beforehand,” he starts with a glint in his eyes, “Christian would have kept you away from me.” 

“How is that?” I ask him. 

“You were at the entrance when I first saw you,” he shrugs, “with the Red Bull ID. Something told me you were important to the team.” 

“Don’t tell me that you stalked me on the way to the Mercedes hospitality, too,” I smirk mischievously. 

He laughs aloud, “I do not think I will end up in this place if my behaviour goes along the lines of being weird, no?” 

“Fair enough,” I nod.

“But yes,” he continues, “Christian probably would have kept you under wraps if Lewis hadn’t brought you to the hospitality. Was I ever thankful that he did.” 

“He’s not exactly being subtle about setting us up on a date,” I giggle, my eyes squinting in joy.

“Have you ever been a thing?” He asks me, curiosity written all over his face. “You and Lewis… have you ever…”

“Oh!” I exclaim before shaking my head, “No! I would never. I do not like him that way. We’ve been friends for so long that I never even thought of him that way.” 

“Oh,” he replies quietly. One simple word, yet it lifted the weight off his shoulders like he was dreading me to say yes.

“Yeah,” I huff out a laugh, “my sister Stevie has always had a crush on Lewis. Whereas I wouldn’t even step foot into that kind of situation with him.”

“That’s good—with you not dating Lewis, I mean. But, I wouldn’t let her near him,” he tells me, “I’ve seen how he is at the afterparties. He is a good driver but— he simply takes his pick of the week before he moves on to another.”

Sucking on my teeth, I can’t help but nod. Toto isn’t wrong. Lewis, even if he’s my best friend, isn’t someone I wouldn’t trust to be around Stevie or any of my sisters. I’ve seen him parade some women around every other 3 months. And each time he did, Stevie ended up in her bedroom with her head tucked in a book. I thought her interest in him was going to fade away by the time she went to university. It didn’t.

It’s hard not to tell her about moving on. I don’t want to be an arse about her unrequited love for Lewis. At some point, maybe they’ll cross each other’s paths. But it’s something that I have no control over. 

Still, Toto is right. I’m worried about Stevie. What if she suddenly became his target of interest? No. He won’t do that. 

He’s my best friend. He isn’t a manwhore who would sleep with his best friend’s sister. He wouldn’t dare disrespect our friendship like that. 

“There’s only much that I can do,” I shrug, nonetheless, “she’s… an adult. She’s a model. She knows what she wants. But for now, I can just support and navigate.” 

He stares at me for a moment, and I’m holding eye contact for as long as I can. He lets out a small smile. 

“I admire your dedication,” he tells me. “You’re protecting your sisters and still respecting their boundaries. I like that about you.” 

“Thank you,” I smile gleefully, “I’m the eldest sister for a reason.” 

“And you keep your head up regardless of how exhausted you are,” he continues, “sometimes, it never hurts to rest.” 

“This is me relaxing,” I gesture at my sitting figure, making him laugh, “I don’t need much to rest besides a cigarette and… this.”

“I sure hope I am making you feel at ease,” he says with a hopeful smile, “that’s the purpose of the dinner.” 

“If this is the kind of treatment I get every major event,” I pause before leaning forward. “I can barely imagine what it’s like everyday being around you.” 

His mouth snaps shut for a moment, the tip of his ears turning red as he tries to keep his composure. Two can play at this game. 

“As I said before, liebling,” he says with a smirk, “I like to take my dear time. I suppose you’ll expect nothing of normalcy.” 

“Sounds like a convincing case for me,” I grin. I did not even realize my foot swinging underneath the table until I felt his brush over mine. 

He acts as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing as he asks, “So, are you heading back to London tomorrow?” 

“I’ll be driving back, sadly,” I roll my eyes, the game of footsies long forgotten as I continue, “Go back to my sad little flat. In my sad little office. Writing my sad little articles.” 

“Well, if you want,” he leans back finally. “You can always come to the next race.” 

My gaze hardened at the thought. I have to write. I can’t just leave my passion behind just like that. Nah uh. 

But then again, I tell myself, I’m about to become a big part of Formula One. Fuck, I’m going to be a somebody in this industry — they recognized either talent or my title. At least they gave me what I thought I deserved— recognition.

“Tempting, but,” I pause for a second, “I’ve a book to write and a work to go to.” And a work to quit from.

“You are writing a book?” Now he’s curious.

I nod, “Novel. Fairly close to writing the epilogue actually.”

He continues to beam and asks, “Any spoilers for me? An exclusive thing, perhaps?” 

I giggle and roll my eyes, “I’ll give you the first signed copy.” 

“I will make sure to put it in my office,” he laughs. “It would be an honour to have your first signed copy.”

“I hope you won’t sell it,” I joke.

He quips, “Darling, I own a racing team. I think I’m quite satisfied with where I’m standing at now.” 

The response only brings me closer to tears. My eyes water as I laugh silently, trying to gather my breath.

“I feel honoured,” I tell him, a grin still on my face as I continue, “I don’t have to do something for profit, for once.”

“It’ll be priceless,” he tells me, “I’ll be the first to criticize you.” 

“Oh please,” I nearly pleaded. “You would do me a huge favour if the annotations come from you.” 

“Does this mean that you’ll be in contact with me?” He proposes with a murmur, “I definitely do not mind that.” 

“Are you kidding me,” I gasp in disbelief. This man. I have been flirting with him for a weekend straight, and he’s asking me if I want to keep seeing him? Does he take me for someone who loves summer romance? 

His expression tells me he didn’t get the memo, so I continue, “Darling, all of those drivers who tried to grab my attention would be upset to learn that I chose the Mercedes Team Principal over them.” 

Clearly intoxication plays a role in my decision making. I’m not even buzzed, but my mouth told him everything I never would’ve thought I’d say to anyone. 

But I suppose this is what happens when you give an attractive, older gentleman to a love-deprived younger woman. The last thing that you would expect from this is an unattached result. Nobody can ever come out of this situation without any evidence that they’ve somehow fallen one way or another. 

But his eyes are saying something. You would think that he would be running off after all of the confessions that I made over the round table, in front of these candles and bottles of wine that’s not even half-empty. I would have expected him to drop me off then go. That he’s just joking about keeping in touch. His eyes told me otherwise. 

And it wasn’t even lust. His eyes were telling me that he wanted something brighter than a casual dating situation. 

Who am I to deny that?

[fanaticsnail]

Random questions about Tobiou (bc why not?! I'm a curious gurl 👉👈):

1 - she's more a silver or gold kinda girl? 2 - what's her favorite color? 3 - she has a family? Pets? 4 - if she needed to eat any devil fruit, which one would she prefer? 5 - cold or hot? 6 - what was her favorite game when she was a child? 7 - what's her favorite hobby? 8 - what would be her alignment in DND? 9 - favorite food? Drink? 10 - favorite thing about themselves?

And that's it. When I create a new oc I like thinking in different questions about them. It's my way to get to know them better :D

Thank you for asking questions about her, Sunny! Tobiuo is so much fun to think about, and I would love the opportunity to show off some art my beautiful, talented baby sister made for her. I love how many interpretations there are of her so far! @since-im-already-here is a wonderful artist, and I love her.

I'll answer them below a page break just in case I go on too much! Again, I really really appreciate the opportunity of getting into her headspace, and I love the prompts!

1. Gold or Silver: she'll take what she's given

Tobiuo wears surgical steel in her webbed ears, dark onyx in colour. They were a gift from her captain, along with being the one she asked to pierce them for her. She hasn't been convinced to change them since he gave them to her.

2. Favourite Color: luminescent purple

Living in the lower depths exposed her to varying degrees of color The Above aren't regularly exposed to. She has vague memories of her past, but the purple is what she truly remembers.

3. Family and Pets: the Heart Pirates

She is not aware of any living relatives. Her lapse in memory from surviving the shipwreck carrying her to Sabaody Archipelago wiped all history from her mind. She does remember having petulant spats in her youth, but can't put a face to the memory. Her found family is her crew. She sees Jean-Bart as a grumpy uncle, Shachi and Penguin as younger brothers, Ikkaku as a close cousin, and Bepo as her baby brother.

Law is her Captain, and she respects him with every fiber of her being. At the smallest click of his tongue, and the phrase: "Show me something," or "Time to go to work," she'll immediately smile darkly and ready herself for combat for him.

When she thinks too hard on it, she may come to realise the purple color correlates with fins where feet should linger. A sibling, a cousin, a friend: she knows not, but they're lingering just below the surface.

4. A Devil Fruit: absolutely not

Her job is to protect her captain. Who would retrieve him if he's pulled into deep water? As a Fishman, she enjoys the ability to swim. There is no way she'd allow the ocean to take that from her.

5. Cold or Hot: Hot

Tobiuo is cold-blooded, enjoying warmth when it pricks at her skin. She doesn't really sweat, something Shachi and Bepo are greatly jealous of in warmer weather.

6. Favourite childhood game: grappling

She really enjoys expressing herself physically. Her friendship comes from a trial by fire: demonstrating her strength by wrestling with her polar-bear mink crewmate. Jean-Bart can keep up with her going fist to fist, but he has no real desire to engage with her like this. When she meets up with the Kid-Pirates, she thoroughly enjoys how physical they are with one another. Arm-wrestling is her love language, one that Kid and Killer greatly enjoy testing in her.

Notes: her strength comes from being a Fishman and originating at the ocean floor. The pressure difference adds to her already heightened strength in the air - which is the reason behind her and her people's mutism. Her lungs can't handle it, but her physical abilities enjoy the pressure change.

7. Hobbies: Dance

Coming with expressing herself physically is the need to make her body move. She makes a point of learning a local style of dance at the ports the Tang docks at. The most receptive crewmates to join with her is Shachi and Penguin. Shachi is often called to act as translator for her sign, a task he enjoys doing. Where the rest of the crew enjoy letting off steam with karaoke, Tobiuo enjoys dancing.

8. Alignment: complicated

While I would say she is more chaotic-good leaning, her loyalty towards captain is almost in line with Lawfulness (oh my gosh, what a horrible pun). She would cast aside her own desires to do "good" if Law asked her to. She is not fond of hurting people, but will at the bequest of her captain.

9. Favourite Food: texture-focussed

She has a barbed tongue and jagged teeth, her sense of taste not really in line with what her warm-blooded crewmates experience. She enjoys spice and texture. Sichuan pepper corns are one of her favorites, specifically for the herbal tingles it leaves on each of the divots and ridges of her tongue. She also prefers her meat as close to raw as she can get it.

10. Favourite Thing: her webbing

Ears, fingers, toes and shoulders. She enjoys their functionality for swimming in her natural environment, but also enjoys wearing clothes outside her boiler suit to accentuate them. Dressing in civilian attire, she will often dress to expose them more.

Thank you for letting me talk about her. I think about her often, not just for her romantic interest in Heat. I adore her!

[letters-from-dekarios]

(Your first letter was so brilliant! Cackled the whole time I was reading it 😂 I believe Dreuer deserves the right to reply as well so… here we are.)

[A package wrapped in brown paper arrives at Gale’s Blackstaff study. Within, there are many manuscripts in a very questionable order, with no real filing system in play.

Though Gale is well aware of his husband’s lack of organisational skills by now, this is perhaps a new level of disorganisation. This is the tiefling’s first academic field study and it shows. By the gods, it shows.

On top of this pile of chaos is a note, handwritten and lightly crinkled.]

“Gale;

Please find attached my updated field notes with regards to my ongoing research. I have included several documents pertaining to illusory magic that made me think of you.

Need I remind you that cutting paper with a dagger dulls the blade more than carving through bone. Given the typical use of a dagger, it does not seem prudent to dull its edge performing mundane office work when it should be cutting flesh and sinew.

As for the medicines, I warned you. I told you buying those extravagant dyes in Amn was silly.

If you have used my expectorant to dye your new robes I shall be very annoyed.

Conversely, if you have used fabric dye to treat a cough I am delighted that you have found a charming new colour for your innards. Congratulations my love. I hope it’s purple.

I will begin my return journey back to Waterdeep within the coming tenday. If you require anything from the libraries do inform me before this time is out, I will not linger here waiting for you to make up your mind.

I do so miss you, my love.

Dreuer.

Ps. Kindly inform Tara that we now have a dog named Arnold.”

Lovely Dreuer,

Attached is a “how-to” on filing and note-taking for intensive studies. Written in Gale’s neatest handwriting, signed off with a ‘Please attempt to use this.’

My dearest. While I do greatly appreciate your updated studies and will do well to decode the wonderful mess you sent me, I request that you try your hand at a filing system. I’ve come up with a quite simple system we can implement when you return. You know how much I adore you but this is going to make me pull out my hair. And I quite like my hair the way it is.

Well, perhaps the dagger would prefer to be used for mundane office work rather than the gruesome act of murder. Have you ever tried to speak with the dagger and see how it feels on the matter? Perhaps both of us are wrong and we’ve separated it from its family.

As stated in my previous letter, I am choosing to not elaborate on the manner. You will see for yourself when you return. Though I will inform you, your expectorant is in fine condition.

I look forward to your return home. It is getting awfully lonely here and Tara has been badgering me incessantly. I do request you bring home any information you can find regarding “lost” spells. I’m beginning a research project to potentially revive spells mentioned and used in previous decades, but that have not been passed onto the newer generations of spell-casters. Anything you find will help. Thank you, love.

Enjoy your final days of your studies, it will serve you well when you return. Perhaps we can take another journey there together sometime soon.

Until the end of time,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

P.S. Tara is quite definitely the opposite of thrilled! Perhaps we can make Arnold sentient enough to interact in a general level with her? I’ll begin looking into that.

text reads: gale dekarios

[kmenkea]

Bloodlust - Part 1

A/N: This is the first chapter of my Astarion Fanfic. It will mostly follow actual in game conversation, but I will expand on them greatly. The main reason I'm writing it is because I felt like there was a gap in all these stories: none of them had an explicitly evil or morally grey Tav. I like my anti-heros and I want to share this love to everyone.

Leeith is the character I'm playing (first run, still at act 2). I made up a whole backstory for her, so excuse me while I also try to develop her.

I have a plan of where things will go and I might keep writing even after the events of the game.

Other than that, feedback is very much appreciated. I tried to stay true to the companions personality, but it is hard to write characters which aren't my own. Hopefully it won't ruin your experience.

I will also try to add a quick doodle to each chapter.

The smut will come in like 2 chapters, but I did leave some breadcrumbs around.

There's lots of Gale hate because he insulted me and I never forgave him.

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: Leeith is quick to mistrust. Astarion seemed extremely suspicious that night. Fortunately, he was just thinking about their companions blood. The pair decides to take some time to themselves, away from the party.

Read on AO3

Leeith’s eyes were transfixed in the fire, chin resting on her knees to relax. The moon was high up in the sky, casting its light on the camp. They had set it up in a clearing, where a large rock stood in the middle, overseeing all the tents that had been put up around it. The place was quiet and green, covered on most sides by the mountains, except that for a little lake, which sang its song: calm waves caressing the shore. Some bedrolls were laying around the fire, for whoever preferred to sleep near the pit, rather than alone. 

The drow was one of them: being in the centre of camp meant that it was going to be a lot harder for any threat to sneak up during the night and slit her throat without anyone noticing. Plus, she didn’t know how to put up a tent. It just looked horrible, barely able to ward off the wind and rain, giving free reign to the cold to bother her all night long. The underdark was much better, full of caves and alcoves to hide, with little rain to worry about. The only thing she would miss if she returned back home was the gentle light of the moon and all the stars.

The drow extended her hand out, testing the flexibility of her wrist: she had slipped in a puddle of mud and down a small cliff the day prior. In the fall the clothes had got torn apart, too damaged to repair even with magic, so Shadowheart had to part with one of her suits. It wasn’t too bad, and the drow was actually happy with the change: the dark cloth suited her better, bringing out the colour from her pale grey skin. Her hair was a black, grey and red mess, as if she was hit by one of her own eldritch blasts, but that was the norm for her. It was much easier to just take a dagger and shorten it whenever it was needed, than having to deal with braids and coils, just for it to look like a bird nest right after any fight.

The stinging pain returned when she flicked her wrist too fast: the bone wasn't broken, but the flesh still swelled up. That was her casting hand and the recoil from her blasts wasn't helping the recovery. Alas, she couldn't take the time to rest. Everyone relied on her planning and she certainly didn't trust anyone enough to go out without her present to keep track of everything. 

Many of her companions were reliable fighters, above all Lae’zel, strong and able to perform all tasks with extraordinary efficiency. She respected her, even if she was hard to deal with at times: her arrogance came from mastery of her abilities, so it was righteous. Shadowheart was quiet, but didn’t seem the type to backstab anyone. The cleric had two motives: she wanted her mission to be over and the tadpole out of her brain, the best way to get both was to travel together. Then there was Wyll and Gale: the first seemed too much like an honourable hero with a heart of gold. The drow didn’t trust him one bit. Her methods were ruthless and often involved cruelty, so she would rather keep him occupied with other errands, than take the chance of him making a scene during a crucial moment. Gale, well, he was just an asshole and not the funny kind. His ego was inflated like that of a beholder, always spewing some bullshit about how great he was compared to everyone else. She didn’t feel like that at first, but his comment on her being just a lowly warlock, rather than a learned and mighty wizard like him, had hit just the wrong nerve. He was relegated to cannon fodder for now. 

Which left her with one last person, reliable for sure, but something always felt off. More off than him being a blood-sucker spawn. Too nice, too perfect, too flirty. Just enough mistakes to make her believe that maybe that was his true self. Enough said about his past for her to know what she was dealing with and what his motives were: control the tadpole, kill Cazador, gain freedom. Commendable. And useful. Just as a spawn, Astarion already had an edge, a natural talent that only required a few drops of blood to kick in; a full vampire would have proved a most formidable ally. But only if it was governable. 

As she laid there, analysing and planning, Astarion's eyes were darting around, pensively. He was trying to hide his face with the large book in his hands, staring at the words, before gazing back up again; in all this time the page had been turned maybe once or twice, so either he was reading a very difficult passage or, more likely, was just trying to conceal some plot that was forming in his head. A good few times Leeith caught him staring at her, but their eyes never met. She wanted to lull him in a sense of false security, so that the drow could learn what his intentions were and why he was checking everyone out.

Her patience though was wearing thin and Astarion seemed pretty content to stand there still. The elf’s sanguine gaze fell on her again, but this time, it was met. She could almost see her reflection in it: they shared the same eye colour, though for her kind it wasn't unheard of to have red irises. The vampire didn’t flinch, appearing nonchalant even after having been discovered with his hands right in the pie.

Leeith stood up, dusting some ash away from her bottom and walked over to him with a smirk. 

"Astarion!" she started. "How are you doing this fine night? Is that book any fun? You seem extremely absorbed by it." Her arms followed her words theatrically, to end up crossing in front of her chest. Astarion closed the book, holding it below the armpit.

"There you are. Quite a fine and serene night, made all the better by your presence." He put the book on a nearby table.

"You're too gracious. I didn't know surface elves were still taught courtesy… or discretely ploying." He seemed unfazed, still observing her from under his brow. Leeith walked past him, to sit in one of the many pillows which adorned his tent, giving it a pretty cosy atmosphere. The bit of blood splatter around, she did not mind. The elf soon followed, remaining at arms distance.

"I was just thinking about you." He sighed and shook his head with grace, the curls falling barely out of place. "And about that delicious moment we shared the other night." Leeith didn't even need the gestures towards her neck to understand what he was talking about. This had yet to explain why he was studying everyone, but she was starting to get a hitch of the reason. 

"The moment when you bit me?" She decided to still play along. 

"The very same." He nodded with a smile that looked genuine. For just a moment, his gaze fell down at the ground, absorbed in thought. His expression changed and though it still held a smile, it was also a lot more serious. For a moment more, no words were uttered, so that the only thing they heard was the lake and the crackling fire. His hands fiddled together for a split second, in search of the right words 

"I've had this… condition for two hundred years. But, truth be told? You were my first." Those last few words were quiet, almost a whisper, but a smirk still lingered on his lips. The drow raised an eyebrow, harbouring disbelief and a slight weird sense of pride, if what he said was true. She didn’t get to rebut with anything, that his face returned jolly and his eyes skimmed over everyone once again, studying them and thinking gods-know-what in that wretched mind. 

"In all these years I've only fed on beasts. Drinking the blood of thinking creatures is a different thing entirely." The vampire leaned closer, barely able to contain his hunger. "You were delectable." He purred, gently tracing Leeith’s neck, where two dark punctures were still more than visible. Leeith flinched at the unexpected touch, suddenly aware of how close they were laying. Astarion moved back, amused and excited, happy almost. "And now, I can't help but wonder how the others taste!" He laughed, gesturing towards the camp. Leeith holstered the imaginary dagger she was holding, grateful she didn't have to deal with a traitor. The smile returned to her lips, as she dropped her defences. 

"Are you looking at other necks? I'm hurt!" Every word was filled with fake indignation. "I really thought we had something special, instead here you are, traitor, after I took your bit-rginity… that sounded better in my head." Astarion chuckled, if at her or at her pun she couldn't tell. 

“Don’t worry, there’s enough of me to go around. I’m a man of tremendous appetites!” He placed a finger over his lip in thought. “Not that I think they’d volunteer, of course, but it doesn’t make me any less curious” He rested his weight on his elbow  stretching his legs out. She did the same, propping her head up with one hand. Most men and women here on the surface looked so plain, with their brown hair and brown eyes. Even those with some special characteristics, like the devils, had little that interested her. But the vampire was different, skin and hair so fair they glimmered in the light and eyes red like her own, that spoke of subtle blood and violence. It was the charm of bloodlust that made him so attractive in her eyes, of stopping at nothing to survive and thrive, but revelling in the chaos caused, not be ashamed of the cruelty. More than once Leeith needed to defend the vampire from their travelling companions, especially the morning after being bitten. Truth be told, Astarion seemed more than ready to suck her dry that night. It made sense now: after two hundred years of wandering in the desert, thirsty and with rocks and knives thrown at him, the pale elf had found a source of clear water.

"Take Gale for example," the voice shook her awake from the vision of them laughing from high atop a mountain of corpses. "He strikes me as someone whose blood is rich, refined, like a well aged brandy.” Astarion twirled an imaginary glass. “But the Gith? What in the hell would she taste like?” The elf looked up, catching the drow’s eyes.

“Surely something exotic, like an Amnan liqueur.” Discussing the taste of blood wasn’t in tonight’s plan, but they were both having fun.

“Ohh! That sounds very appealing. I’m almost convinced.” She didn’t know if the other’s could listen and, frankly, she didn’t care. For the first time since leaving the underdark, the drow had met someone that did understand her. Being labelled as a mindless monster, just because he had been cursed to be a spawn, isolated him. Leeith too was always labelled as a low-life murderer because of her lineage, but she enjoyed the fear she’d strike in those below her.

“Could I convince you to kill someone less useful?” She raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

“No one is getting killed, I swear. We’re just- two friends talking.” He waved his hands between them. “So - in the spirit of theoretical questions - if you had to take a bite from one of them, who would it be?” He got closer, raising his eyebrow. For once he sounded actually happy, not just cheeky and overconfident. Leeith pondered, staring up at the stars. She glanced at him, noticing how his hair captured the colour of the moon and the light of the fire.

“You, of course.” His eyes opened up and he couldn’t hide a grin.

“Oh! I’m flattered. Who knew you had such taste.” His ego kicked in again.

“That… and the fact my blood doesn’t come free. It’s only fair I get a taste of you, after I shared my own.” Leeith reached up for his neck and, like he had done previously, caressed his scars. The feeling of cold skin was strange, even if she had lingered only an instant.

“Of course. It was a gift. One I do intend to repay.” His voice was much lower now, returning to his flirtatious attitude.

“All this talk made me realise I would love to get treated to a bottle of fine wine.” Leeith sighed. “You surface dwellers really do have much sweeter wines than the sour water we get downstairs.” Her gaze returned to Astarion, but wasn’t met. He was sitting back up again.

“Unfortunately, it will have to wait. All this talk is getting me hungry. I’d better find something I can actually sink my teeth into.” The vampire looked ready to be back on his feet.

A thought crossed her mind. Should she act upon it? It seemed like the perfect time and, truth be told, she was starting to get a soft spot for the elf. Laying there on those pillows, she moved her hair away from the neck, freeing her scars.

“And where would you go? Am I not delectable anymore?” She grinned, raising her arms above her head. “Unless of course you have acquired a taste for goblin.”

“Oh- well.” He fumbled, surprised by the offer. “Of course. I didn’t expect you enjoyed it enough to offer yourself again.” His cocky tone would have almost sounded perfect, if it wasn’t for the fact he didn’t move. He was stuck sitting there, waiting for something; a question still lingered on his tongue. Yet still, he couldn't help lick his teeth and lips.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much.” Leeith was tense, but still tried to keep a calm demeanour. “As you said in the past, I need you strong. If a bit of my blood is enough, then you can have it. I trust you won’t go overboard this time.” Astarion looked around camp. A few too many glances were being thrown in their direction, even the dog seemed to stop sniffing around just to focus on them. Leeith noticed too.

“Should we wait ‘till after dark?” His tone was hushed, but it didn’t mask his excitement.

“If it’s more comfortable for you not to have eyes on you, sure. In my opinion, it’s their fault for not looking away.” She giggled and stood up, stretching her back. “Well, I’ll go eat something more myself. Have a fun time with your book.” 

Leeith returned to the fire, calling Scratch to her.

Not much time passed before everyone said their good nights to one another. Leeith spent the time studying a map of the region, thinking of ways to best ration their food during the following days of travel. The light kept getting dimmer in the fire, so she'd just chuck another log in. Scratch was sleeping beside her, shaking his paws at times. She glanced at Astarion's tent: the elf had the flap pulled down, but she could sense movement inside. They were the only two souls awake in the camp. He didn't need much sleep; she didn't feel the need to either, but her body was still weary and hurt in places. She wanted the day to be over and finally rest. The map was folded and put back in the backpack, then she walked to Astarion. The drow knocked on the floor and whispered his name. It didn't take long for him to appear.

"Yes, darling?" He was shirtless. Leeith took her time to respond, not really knowing how to ask. "Did the cat get your tongue?" Something metallic caught a ray of light. A moment later it was gone from his hands. 

"I- well, are you still hungry? I am pretty tired, I kind of want to be done with today." She motioned at her bandaged wrist. 

"Mh, I didn't think you were this impatient." Astarion made his voice deep, glancing at her with a seductive grin. "Well if you can't wait I'll find a boar or rabbit to snack on. Don't need to miss your beauty sleep for me." He disappeared back into the tent, but Leeith followed him. 

"I can wait, just need an estimate." Sprawled on the floor there were a few bottles of blood, some empty, some full. At least the drow didn't have to ration the food for him, since he could provide for himself. More weirdly though, she also saw a pair of scissors, some thread and a small metal box full of pins. His white shirt was laying on the ground, the collar ripped off. 

"I know you aren't a vampire, but you could have still asked before entering." He barked, annoyed at this invasion. The elf picked up the shirt and began to pin and sew the collar back on. 

"Well, it's not like you're doing anything weird here. I didn't know you liked sewing… you could have fixed up my clothes instead of forcing me to borrow Shadowheart's!"

"I'm afraid your clothing was beyond repair even before it got torn apart. If anything that might have helped make it look better." 

"Tks, I'll show you what true luxurious clothing is like; the underdark has the best spider silks imaginable, they feel like water around your body. You surface dwellers know nothing." 

"And yet none of your ancestral fashion knowledge got to you, did it?" Replayed him. Leeith crossed her arms and furrowed her brow. If he was any other person, he would have already been made into a fine mist of gore, but his tone was too sarcastic for her to take it seriously. 

"I'm done." he said at last, donning his shirt back on. "After you, darling." He pointed to the outside. The drow crawled away, soon followed by tonight's companion. Astarion stepped in front of her and, after making certain no one was around, directed her through a small hidden path. He was more than excited: she could see it in the way his hands trembled, his eyes flickered eagerly towards her, to make sure she was still following. Leeith caught him licking his lips once, the phantom sweetness of her blood still lingered on them. 

Finally they got to a small river, with little flowers growing everywhere. It wasn't any random spot, the elf had put thought on where to lead her. Did he think a cute flower bed would have made her more trusting? Or was he just a romantic, wanting the moment to feel special for him? Not that it mattered. He didn't even need to set up a trap since the drow had offered herself. 

"So?" She sat down, crossing her legs and looking up at the man. He soon followed, landing at her side, closer that he had ever been. She expected warmth to come from him, but again, nothing but cold dead flesh. 

"So? Want to admire the stars before I go?" He teased, brushing her hair away from her neck. His hand fell on it, caressing it. His skin was soft and cared for, unlikely for a warrior. It smelled of fancy cologne and fabric soap. 

"Maybe I will, Astarion. You don't seem that hungry after all." Leeith stretched her legs out, then lowered her head to the ground. Her eyes did search for the moon, but it was hidden among the clouds and leaves above her. Finally she shut them, bracing herself for the bite.

"What do you gain out of this? Why are you doing it?" He blurted out, not having moved an inch. His eyes were still bloodshot, but he was controlling himself. Leeith was puzzled. 

"Nothing really. Why are you asking?" She lifted one of her eyebrows and rested her weight back in her elbows.

"You said it yourself, I'm borrowing your blood and you want something in return. What is that?" 

"Well, I suppose it's true I never do anything for free, but I don't know. I wasn't actually expecting anything back. Again, you can treat me to a bottle of wine if you want, but otherwise, I'll be fine. It's just some blood, a good night's rest will take care of it." 

"So, is this just… out of the goodness of your heart?" The way his voice got higher, it almost made him sound offended.

"Oh yes, Astarion. When the gods were handing out goodness, I skipped everything regarding not murdering people or threatening them, and grabbed bucketfuls of selfless vampire feeding acts. My soul aches for all the poor little starving vampires of this world." She placed a hand over her heart. His expression was undecipherable, a mix between confusion and indignation. 

"Relax, Astarion." Leeith sighed and dropped the act, understanding his displeasure. "I don't know why I'm doing it, but it does help you, doesn't it? I see the way you fight and act after being able to eat something proper. It's a completely different you. A better you. I need that." 

"Is this it?" He was still unsure. Was this it? Not even Leeith could tell. There wasn't a reason to give herself out like that. He was a perfectly good assassin even when hungry. The only ulterior motive was gaining his favour, so he’d still be on her side once killing and drinking Cazador. Not that she was going to tell him that. She scrolled her shoulders.

"Guess so." At that answer, he smirked again, returning to his old bastard self. 

"Shall we make ourselves comfortable?" The vampire guided her down, supporting her head all the way. His body shifted over hers, putting his weight on his knees. For a moment, Leeith hoped his fingers would caress her stomach and move upwards to her ribs or down to her thighs. That didn't happen. Astarion just used his other hand to keep himself hovering above her. The drow closed her eyes and exposed her neck. A sharp pain followed. She whimpered and gripped his shoulders tight, clenching her jaw almost enough to break some teeth. Then the pain faded, substituted by a dull humming above her shoulder, in rhythm with her heartbeat. Astarion's tongue lapped at her skin. 

"Easy now." He murmured, still with his lips on her. Was it just a thought he had? Leeith swore she could sense herself in his mind and him inside her. A similar feeling to the tadpole, but more fuzzy, deep into the recesses of their soul. The drow smiled, feeling his bliss as hers, the excitement of blood awakening something in them. For the first time, his body felt warm, alive, as he kept clinging to her sweet, sweet life. The elf was on edge. He didn't want this to finish, it felt better than any sex or drug or wine he's ever had. Just a moment more, just one more drop. Leeith’s mind was well and alive, shaking in shared joy. He needed this more than gold; he needed her to stay, to defend him from others. He couldn’t let the drow grow bored of him. As long as she trusted him, he wouldn’t have had to worry about monster hunters or Cazador’s goons; the warlock would have scared them off and, failing that, she was more than capable of crushing their bones. Her body was warm like the sun under him; He was going to cling to it for as long as he could.

The cold arrived too soon. The connection broke for an instant, as the drow below him got weaker. A wake up call.

He lifted his head up and almost felt like he needed to catch his breath, but his lungs were still dead. The vampire admired the wound on her neck: he had done a perfect job, with very little blood running off. They shared a glance as he went down on it again, just licking the few droplets on her shoulder. 

Leeith tested the wound with one hand once he sat up. It hurt like hell, but it wasn't bleeding a lot. She undid the bandage on her wrist and used that to pat her neck dry. Astarion, by her side still, was brimming. His eyes were alive and shining like rubies, a faint smile was on his lips and he seemed not to have noticed that a drop of blood was about to fall down from his chin to his prized shirt. They sat in silence for a few minutes. The drow was the first to break it. 

"So your hobby is sewing." She noted. 

"I would call it less a hobby and more a useful skill. It's not like Cazador would give me his hand-me-downs." He spat, bile raising from inside of him.

"You're free now. You could buy anything you want." 

"I quite like my clothes. And besides, where should I get anything? Maybe if we were in Baldur's gate I’d think about it, but here I could at best cover myself with twigs like those druids." 

"Uhh… you wouldn't look too bad covered in fig leaves. I'm sure you'll find a way to make it work." 

"Just because you want to see me nude, doesn't mean I'll concede myself to you so easily." 

"Alright then, no more blood until I see you dressed with just one leaf." She wanted to sound serious, but the look on his face was worrying. Did he actually understand sarcasm? 

"Hey, I'm still joking. No need to look at me like that." 

"That reassures me. The thought of bedding a drow wasn't a pleasant one."

"Hey what?!" For once she was actually offended.

"Canings, ties, gags, whatever spiked torture device you have in your caves to get you off. Are you sure you are having sex down there, or just trying to eviscerate each other?" 

"Well first and foremost, the "device" is called a spike cross and you aren't actually supposed to get off on that. Second, not my fault you surface elves are more sensitive than a babe. And third," she moved her lips close to his ear, whispering seductively. "I'll be gentle your first time, you'll still be able to sit the next day." She smirked, but couldn't hold in a chuckle. 

"Is it true your men are slaves?" He asked all of a sudden. 

"It depends. Most commoners, like me, have left the practice behind. Not that I wouldn't enjoy having a slave or two, but you know, either they consent or I buy one. Now, the matriarchs, they still cling to the old ways. In any case, most say it's not as bad as it was a few centuries ago. This doesn’t change the fact all men are unworthy and unclean in the Spider’s Queen eyes and her followers… like me, but I won’t chain you up unless you request me." She shrugged. Astarion was lost. His face was turned towards her, but his eyes were looking somewhere far. In that moment, Leeith remembered all that he had to go through, between the torture and the servitude.

"Hey," she placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. "That won't happen anymore, alright. You're free now. Nothing can take that away and if they try, you aren't alone. I'll personally go into Cazador's lair and open all of his curtains, while you stand above his ashes. The sun will burn him, while you will be free." He shook his head.

"A naïve and puerile fantasy… but thank you. Shall we go? You said you were tired and don't think blood loss made you any stronger." He offered his hand and she took it. Even with that, standing up was not an easy task when her world kept spinning and going dark at the edges, but she managed. 

"Lolth be graced, no one tells you the downsides of being a blood bag when you pick up this job." She joked, as they both walked back to camp.

[demonnsnow]

— "my name is kyouka izumi, i'm an orphan just like you. i like bunny rabbits and boiled tofu, i do not like dogs or lightning. i've killed 35 people in six months with the port mafia."

about the admin . . @crepebunny

hello n welcome! this is my roleplay blog! you can call me eloise. i use he/it pronouns n i am a minor please don't be a creep. i use kaomojis often and may use them in my posts. ooc posts will be tagged with #🐇ooc . if you'd like to be friends outside of this blog feel free to ask, i don't mind n need more friends anyway. i haven't roleplayed in a while so it may take time for me to get used to it again, please be patient with me. i have also never roleplayed on tumblr before so i'm unsure of how it usually is, if someone would teach me how it works around here it'd be greatly appreciated /nf. i have tons of trouble interacting first and starting conversations, i am very shy n want to apologise in advance.

about kyouka . .

a quiet girl that is fourteen years old. she works for the armed detective agency (ada), that she considers her family. kyouka used to be an assassin for the port mafia, yet defected after being saved by nakajima atsushi. outside of work, kyouka usually hangs around miyazawa kenji or nakajima atsushi. atsushi and kyouka share a dorm at the agency, atsushi had taken the closet for her to have the full bedroom. kenji is kyouka's best friend, the only other armed detective her age. kyouka's favourite colour is light blue and sometimes paints her nails with tanizaki naomi, another armed detective.

rules . .

absolutely no nsfw, kyouka is a minor and so am i. i'd prefer to not have much angst on this blog. anyone can interact as long as they don't fall under the general dni criteria. otherwise i block freely. using she/her pronouns & fem terms is strictly referring to kyouka only, please do not refer to admin with she/her or any fem terms (girl, daughter, sister, etc).

this post will be updated whenever it needs to be! |˶˙ᵕ˙ )ﾉﾞ

[wri0thesley]

having a robe and lingerie and sleepwear moment, here is what i think the genshin men would like on you:

(cw: not sfw, most of these link to pictures on irl models if you're uncomfortable with that, they're also for a more femme-presenting reader and as many as i could find are on plus models bc what is my blog for if not self-indulgence!!!)

as much as diluc loves you in his colours - and he does, for you're stunning in red - in the end, he falls over himself for you in soft pastels and whites with frills and lace and fluff and ruffles, that he can slowly prise his fingers beneath and admire the sight of you in. anything that might be read as 'bridal' has his heart beating too fast in his chest and his breath coming in hungry little pants.

alhaitham doesn't mind a little fanciness - a nice lace trim, for instance - but he's also logical and rational at heart, and if he has to fumble too often with too many complicated little fastenings, it is going to eat into the time he can spend doing what he really wants to do - which is, of course, make you feel so good that you cry out his name and kaveh gets a taste of his own medicines. he does love you in his colours, though - something about seeing you in that deep green he outfits himself in . . . it's hard to not want to run his hands all over you.

dottore likes restraints and leather and anything shiny; he loves harnesses and buckles and anything that reminds him that, at heart, you are a little mouse trapped by him (even if that entrapment is by choice). he appreciates an element of fetish; he wants you to remember that he's in charge. one of the most likely to have you in a corset and enjoy watching you learn to acclimatise; this particular set has buckles and fishnets, so . . . yes, that leaves him a happy man.

pantalone is a man of luxury. he wants his beloved in things made only of the finest - something elegant and lovely that makes him feel glad to come home to you and find you at the end of the bed with your lashes fluttering prettily. he likes classic colours and fabrics like silk and feathers; there is something of the classic hollywood in his preferences. and, naturally, he loves seeing you keep as much of it on as possible when he takes you.

ayato is yet another man who likes elegance; he thinks you ought to always have the proper underpinnings to any outfit you wear, and he gets great delight from both helping you dress and helping you undress, clipping stockings and artfully arranging things . . . and knowing that beneath the demure outfit you wear to the yashiro commission's latest elegant function, you're sinfully lovely. fine embroidery and lovely lace also greatly appeal to him; like on this lovely satin and roses piece.

childe likes anything he can rip off of you - and, unfortunately, he thinks his strength means he can indeed rip anything off of you. his favourite colour to see his beloved in is red; there's something of the 'red to a bull' in him, and when he sees it on you . . . oh, it's on. he likes things that are tight to your body and show off everything; he's not big on lace and frilly bits, he just wants to bite into you and take you for his own instead of playing around. there's something about a set like this - quarter cups, cut-outs - that has him going wild on how much flesh is on display.

venti likes something a little playful; he doesn't mind if you're wearing things hard to take off, that's half of the fun for him! he adores ruffles and floaty bits and pieces that he can toy with using the wind - and, naturally, he adores feathers. they feel so light and airy! so a set like this has him drooling onto the floor. there's so much potential there!

dainsleif, much like diluc, likes the reminder that you are a sweet lovely thing. the choice of pale colours and ribbons and lace do occasionally remind him that he feels like he is profaning something holy . . . but when you strip off your clothes and flutter your eyelashes and ask him to take you, please, it's not such a bad thing to be imagining. how could something sinful feel as good as you feel around him?

kaveh adores drama. he loves pieces with long trains, with feathers, with beautiful fabrics that drape over you lusciously so he can admire the way that it heightens your curve or sweeps elegantly across the floor. so it's entirely likely that he has a terribly sheer robe with mounds and mounds of feathery fluff (all the more likely because he knows it will shed feathers and that will drive alhaitham out of his mind - this pettiness is worth the fact that kaveh will be the one cleaning the feathers up) - but most of all, he likes your body and form underneath it. with nothing else on it at all.

after all; what inspires him most than your body in its purest and most natural form?

[2000sangel]

Matchup???

hihihihi, I’m Gray, yes like the color/colour. I’m Agender(afab) and use any pronouns, I’m ace and on the arospec (I think I’m lithioromantic?) Ive had 3 crushes, 1 fem, 1 nb, 1 male. If you’re doing romantic, I do tend to have a preference towards masc people.

I’m honestly pretty average, I’m very middle energy between chill and energetic, it fluctuates depending on who I’m with. I’m an ISFJ 9w1 if that helps. I am the therapist friend and sometimes the mom friend. I am very much a listener, if someone starts ranting I’ll listen intently through it all even if it’s for 4 hours. I have gotten so many hyperfixations that way. I have generalized anxiety disorder (gad) and im currently being tested for adhd.

I’m fine with romantic or platonic, if you want to you can do both

My hobbies include piano, I’m currently learning Duet from Omori, Art, I usually sketch characters don’t usually do big projects unless it’s for a class, baking, I tend to make brownies and cookies, though I can make other stuff like cake, and this isn’t really a hobby but sleeping, I love sleeping(which is weird because I either sleep really fast or I don’t sleep til 6am)

I like my friends, art, rain, comfy clothes like hoodies and sweaters, music, my favorite artists at the moment are Jack Stauber and Khai Dreams, dreaming, reading, puzzles, sudoku, plushies, sleeping, butterflies, Arctic foxes, kittens, fictional characters, and fandoms, some of those include dhmis, hh, interloper(arg), home safety hotline, etc. Some things I dislike are really tight clothing, being yelled at, harsh criticism with no compliment of what I did do good, being left out, feeling lonely, overthinking, my face, specifically my nose, mouth and forehead, pushing people away, ghosting people, and confrontation is a big one.

If you’re doing romantic, please don’t ship me with Angel Dust, I see him in a very brotherly sense. Similarly with husk.

I have listed characters before that I simp over and usually it’s either stoic and kind of cold or excitable and kinda babygirl vibes (I don’t know how else to describe it) and I already said above that I tend to have a preference towards masc

Something else that I could add is I do tend to have a trope I like? I don’t know if it means anything but I’m in love with rude or some other kind of negative adjective but has a soft spot for that one person and soulmate aus but that’s something else.

-Gray🦋

Hey Gray! So sorry for the delay, your matchup is finally here though! I decided to go with a platonic matchup c:

I match you with...

Charlie!

· You seem like a very wholesome person, so I personally think that Charlie would be a great friend for you, being equally amiable!

· She’s your number one supporter and she tries to help you ease your anxiety on particularly bad days; she reassures you that you don’t need to match her energy all the time, and that it’s okay if you feel anxious, she will try her best to be there for you and help.

· She might need some guidance as well, being in charge of the Hotel and all. This is where your mom friend side comes in; she greatly appreciates that you try to help her back, and that you listen to her in times of need. Sometimes she just needs to let it out to figure out what to do next, and you’re the person she goes to for it.

· You will also get to listen to her rants for hours! No matter what they’re about. They will mostly be about the Hotel and how she can improve the quality of life in it, but she will ask your opinions on it as well, and occasionally rant about her interests too. She of course loves listening to you as well, so don’t hesitate to rant back!

· Charlie loves that you like sketching, because she loves drawing too! You show each other what you make and she’s so happy to be sharing a hobby with you, where you can tell each other what you like about the other’s art and point out where to improve if needed. I feel like it’s more about the first thing though, as you both like doing it casually more than anything, so it’s a very positive experience!

· She also likes singing to the tunes of your piano; the others will stop by, mesmerized by your skill and her angelic voice.

· Charlie of course respects all of your dislikes; on your first day at the Hotel you inform her that you dislike tight clothing, and she makes you find a bunch of cosy and oversize clothes on your bed as a way to make you feel comfortable and welcomed.

· She also never makes you feel left out, and always includes you in every activity that she organizes whether it be with the other residents of the Hotel or as just a friend outing or hang out.

· She’s also not a big fan of confrontation, so she gets your dislike for it. If anything, you two can go through it together, and advise the other on how to handle it the best.

· She will also pull you out of your overthinking by coming up with some fun activity to do together; maybe you can give your favorite show a rewatch with her, or you can introduce her to all the plushies that you own- the possibilities are endless!

[fireflywalk]

request master list ✧*:･ﾟ

[ 🧸🩰⏳🌷🦌 ]

i do two types of shuffle boards !

1. mood board

2. image shuffle

when requesting, specify what kind of shuffle you prefer! (mind you, my mood boards arent the standard 3x3, but rather a chaotic mess of character aesthetic goodness)

. 　 . • ☆ . ° .• ° :. *₊ ° . ☆

when you request an image shuffle, it would be greatly appriciated/preferred if you add a specific image you want me to base my shuffle around. if you dont have a specific image in mind, you can try describing the vibe youre looking for! you can also name specific colours, items, etc., that you want me to include :)

when you request a mood board shuffle, it would help me out alot if you were to describe the vibe, or name the aesthetic youre looking for. you can also name specific colours, items, etc., that you want me to include :)

FANDOMS :

marauders (characters, ships, scenerios, eras ..)

overwatch (characters, character skins, ships ..)

kpop (whole groups, duos, idols, concepts .. the specific image thing applies to this category ESPECIALLY cuz and idol can have many looks, id prefer if you choose which one you want me to shuffle ^__^)

tbh, any fandom as long as theres an image added, or a specific vibe described <3

examples of my work ~

mood board ; 🧸 ; image shuffle

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

if you are unsure about some of the info on this list, or have any questions, please dont hesitate to ask!

request always open, but they tend to take a while so patience is appreciated !!

- sincerely yours,

lily ! 🪷

[spidernuggets]

Not sure about this idea.... But i'm thinking about opening commissions for fanart for Jason Todd. Now, this can be anything.

Profile pics, banners, self insert fanart, etc.

If you would like any of these, feel free to DM me your request! Due to my busy schedule, I'll start at 0/5 slots for commissions. We can discuss prices in DMs, but for now, starting prices and terms of service will be mentioned under the cut.

Any questions, send them in Ask or DMs!

Starting Prices

•Sketch (No Colour!):

♡Head-shot: €10 ♡Half body: €15 ♡Full Body: €20 ♡Character + Background Sketch: €30

*If you'd prefer line art of sketches, price will increase by €5

•Coloured Commision:

Head-shot:

♡Flat colour: €15 ♡Shading: €25 ♡Character + Background (detailed): €35

Half body portrait:

♡Flat colour: €25 ♡Shading: €35 ♡Character + Background (detailed): €45

Full body portrait:

♡Flat colour: €35 ♡Shading: €45 ♡Characyer + Background (detailed): €55

Additional Figures (characters, ocs, self insert, etc): €5

Prices Subject To Change

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Terms of Service

Important/Prioritised info will be highlighted in RED

I will NOT tolerate any criticism of how I price my art. If you comment anything that goes against this system, you will be BLOCKED.

♡ By commissioning me, you are agreeing to my terms of service.

♡ The art provided by me should be used for personal uses only. Icons, Pfps, Banners, etc. However, any commercial, NFT use, or reselling of my designs are prohibited. You will be BLOCKED and REPORTED.

♡ Payment must be sent as Goods and Services through PayPal ONLY in EURO.

♡ I reserve the right to turn down any commissions if necessary.

♡ I only start commissions once the transaction is complete.

♡ I do not allow refunds once commisions have started.

♡ Specific details in how you'd like the design to look are highly required and greatly appreciated to quicken the process of the making of the design.

♡ Sudden change of mind after sketching will result in a minimum 25% fee (may increase depending on progress of sketch) for a new sketch.

♡ My completion speed ranges from 1-3 weeks. Deadlines under 1 week require a rush fee of €10-15 depending on the details of the artwork.

♡ Designs will be given in PNG format.

♡You will be shown updates on the progress of the artwork in case you might want any SMALL changes. However, all updates will be watermarked.

♡ Profiting my work without any discussion is prohibited. You will be blocked, and your account will be reported.

♡I will NOT accept any of the following as requests: •Hate Art •Fetish Art •NSFW •Works for AI use •Works for NFT use, feel free to inquire any unlisted

Other info:

♡If you wish to request a self insert piece, DO NOT send a pocture that reveals your identity. Some alternatives can include a pic where your face is scribbled, reference pocs of hair, eyes, skin colour, etc, off of Pinterest or Google and such.

I do not have reference pics of artworks I've done of Jason Todd himself. However, I have plenty of artwork that I can show you in DMs to display what my style of drawing could look like, both traditionally and digitally, and all would be watermarked for ownership reasons.

Though this all seems very strict, it's a very casual commissioning and a safe environment. Requests will not be judged or rejected as long as they follow the ToS.

FIRST COME FIRST SERVE!!

Any other questions, don't be afraid to ask!

[tonydaddingham]

orwellian's a great word for it actually. "appropriate raiments will be provided" is the most disturbing thing in the whole series and i stand by that. this interpretation of heaven has definitely coloured my reading of the show especially how i see the fall so it's cool to see someone who agrees!

hard agree that pure coercion would be a total cop out. it's just that he does seem nervous so i do think he's aware of a certain degree of potential danger. i initially thought the metatron must have let slip an implication somewhere but i much prefer your idea that he suspected something. and well. i've been saying basically since season 2 came out that accepting the offer doesn't equal having completely fallen for it. will come back to that in my thoughts on the whole mess that was that domestic.

the blanket permission to come scream at you is greatly appreciated and i'll definitely make use of it; i love this kind of media dissection and speculation. 🦭

(p.s. i did indeed end up making the chekov's list since my ocd never can leave well enough alone lol. brace yourself: incoming!)

hihi again, 🦭 anon!!!✨

yes!!! in the context of 1984, especially, that line really is ominous; obviously there is a fine line between a corporate uniform and dictated dress, especially as the only scene where we see all of the angels look the same (iirc) is the waiting platoon in s1. otherwise, all of the angels do have individual dress/style (but similar enough to show belonging), even in the job scene, even if certain elements of their designs indicate shared rank or moral alignment... but the implication of subjugation made by clothes being specifically chosen for the prospective mind-wiped gabriel is... interesting.

and of course - aziraphale's outfit is very different to that of the other angels, in it being actual human clothing, and showing unashamed signs of wear and comfort. i remarked in a post that in job especially, his jobes (job robes) are very similar in aesthetic to that of michael and gabriel compared to say muriel's. could be that it's the appropriate dress of a principality rank, but im not... wholly convinced.

anyway, let's get on with your list!!! a herculean effort, truly!!! hope you don't mind, but a) ive copied and pasted it under the cut, because b) id love to use it as a checklist for myself (and of course if anyone else does!) re: things ive talked about, or indeed things that i have Thoughts on... or even things that i haven't thought to talk about and will probably look into doing so in the future!!!✨✨

episode 1:

starting with the big one there's the pre-fall sequence. the fall itself. talked a lot about these two things/the whole theme in general, found under the #the fall/the great war spec tag

maggie's spelling under the #we need to talk about maggie theory tag - babygirl is an angel, im convinced of it

"what's the point of it all" i mean, kinda talked about this in connection with stuff under the #god is dead theory tag, and in a couple of different asks; mainly that god doesn't give two hoots about any of it, and just wanted to give everyone and everything free will - and they have to work out the consequences for themselves (whilst she throws in a few chaotic sprinkles to keep things interesting)

shax's insider information about heaven ive definitely not discussed shax at all really, and i definitely have a few things id like to work out... main one being, for me, how she went from wondering where aziraphale was in ep3, to suddenly knowing how to exactly triangulate his position in ep4 finally talked about her in the #shax meta tag!!!

the demons being on half rations didn't really think to look at this!!! that could be interesting, especially with the short-staffed comment... someone did put to me that bc the apocalypse failed, everyone on earth continues dying and adding to the population of the Damned, so the work vs demon ration is steadily getting outweighed... but hm, could be something more than that!

"something terrible" because are we sure we're sure that that was about the stuff we've already seen you know, i wondered this too after ep6!!! it was a very interesting choice of words for me, bc whilst yes gabriel's fate was looking pretty shit, the line was almost a bit... well, over-announced? they kept repeating it? like, gabriel said he had to bring the box to aziraphale/the bookshop otherwise something terrible would happen... but why specifically the shop? is it just because aziraphale is the only angel/sanctuary on earth? is it because he was drawn to an angel that's also fallen for a demon? is it because aziraphale is simply kind? i don't trust that it's any of these explanations at all (or maybe all of them and another besides)... and tbh i think god has something to do with it. another speculation for the to-do list!!!

the book of life this one ive remarked on a fair bit under the #book of life theory tag, but it's fairly disjointed from other bits and pieces - tbh i probably need to do a long post at some point as to where all my theories etc join up... bc for the moment all of them are full of loopholes

michael and uriel's power politics oooooh i literally don't have a single scooby on this... id have to think on this a little more

the very highlighted matchbox quote this one ive had sat in the drafts for ages bc i can't quite parse it out - where does leviathan come into it? is it a reference to crowley-as-aziraphale spitting fire during the execution? why would it be on a matchbox of a bloody pub? is it a clue from god? is god linked to jim/gabriel somehow? gahd this one is still giving me a headache kinda? wrote about this - here, no tag for this specifically - and im still not fully satisfied that is the meaning of the matchbox but i think (hope) it might be somewhere near the mark?

1650 i speculated (or, well, dreamt up a hc) as to what this potential flashback could entail in a LWA response somewhere - in any case, give me the boys in cromwellian england and give it to me Now

the 25 lazarii miracle my batshit theory (and yet it makes complete sense to me, i stand by it) is in my #25 lazarii theory tag

episode 2:

heaven and hell working together as a single good cop bad cop system this is similarly stagnating in my drafts at the moment!!! but it's a bit of a mindbender for me bc it means i need to pick apart what everything thinks the job/satan bet was actually about... basically, i think it all comes back to understanding god's will - and all of them (yes, even crowley) have it wrong because imo god is completely amoral and is just the strongest advocate for free will... weirdly, i think the person that had the most right of it was gabriel.

"forces them under an awning together" god i hope this happens in s3... i mean there's no way it won't, right? and so many juicy possibilities (for my money itll be the bandstand, but equally would love, like, the stoop of the bookshop, and then have it mirrored again under like the porch of the south downs cottage) 🥺

gabriel's eyes glowing statements this tbh harks back to what i posted under the #25 lazarii theory tag - definitely something weird going on, and i have a gut feeling the boys accidentally made it even worse lmao

tricking heaven with a sleight of hand this is also going to require a bit more thought!!!

episode 3:

aziraphale's chekhov's diaries see im not sure how important i truly think theyre going to be, but if we go by the prominent influence of the crow road, it definitely has to be a s3 plot device, right? the only thing im scared of is that aziraphale's memory gets wiped, or he goes missing, and the books are key to getting back his memory/finding him... hmmm

crowley's consciousness extending into the bentley i think the crank is certainly important, even if just symbolic of his power - uses it to create nebulae, it survived the s1 explosion, etc. i do think bentley has its own kind of personality, but think it's borne out of proximity, use, and influence of her demon owner... obviously i could be entirely wrong, but i kinda hope it's more that he made her, and her allegiance as a sentient being is with him (and of course aziraphale by extension), mainly bc i want something to look after crowley... but then is it more poetic that the bentley is basically just him, and representative of him finding comfort in himself? idk tbh but she's a bad bitch and i love her

general resurrection themes ive talked a fair bit about the second coming aspect, but not about the resurrection and last judgement so much, so this is one for the list

gabriel's glowing eyes statements part 2 as above (and i realise that you might be talking about what he specifically says, not the general thing itself, 🦭 anon, but in a way what is being said is fairly self-explanatory imo, but why is the heftier question)

shax can sense gabriel in a way the archangels couldn't i personally don't think there's much by way of implication in the method in which she senses him (ie... smell? vs michael's weird sixth sense), but i do think there is something about the fact they can sense him at all... talked about in #25 lazarii spec and the #shax meta tag!!!

"it's always too late" oh god 💀 i had the most batshit theory about this that i don't even want to talk about BUT im with you that it's... an odd line. i love that it potentially references line in the book about crowley's watch being set to hell's time, which is set at "too late", but beyond that... not entirely sure why the line was said or said so... blatantly? feels like something obvious would explain it

rumours that aziraphale and crowley were an item that so far don't seem justified based on what hell knew. rumours that apparently had no major consequences for crowley despite one harmless photo warranting a legion to collect him [screams at 1941 truther sign] yeah this is how it read to me too, 🦭! something definitely happened after that dinner, and im not saying a move was made (and potentially witnessed by a couple of errant nazi zombies) but i think a move was made (and witnessed by a couple of errant nazi zombies) - #1941 spec tag

the literal chekhov's gun in the bookshop this one has flummoxed me, but i did read a speculation about continuing the 1941 flashback today, which was utter genius (and so much better than what i managed to dream up in the above tag), and suggested the derringer will make an appearance in a fight-ish scenario in that scene... which is frankly bloody inspired tbh, and im very much convinced by

the miracle blocker oooooh i don't have a dedicated tag for this but i definitely talked about it in a post under the #sanctuary/bentley theory tag!!! i think it was potentially a chekhov's gun that we didn't see get fired

sleight hand to trick hell probably one to look at in hand with the one above about tricking heaven

the zombies just running around london kinda as i said above tbh, not sure what'll happen to them afterwards but presumably a grisly end being eaten and pooped out by a spider

1941 full stop. we have not seen the last of that night. goddamn right we havent [skips around the 1941 truther sign]

episode 5:

the lack of demons available for the attack pretty much what i said above in ep1 about being short staffed bc the Damned population keeps increasing... maybe? still one to look at in more detail though!!!

"i know. do it anyway" "i know. looking at where the furniture isn't" not necessarily in reference to these quotes specifically, but in the general context - discussed this (and potential crowley memory loss) in the #the fall/the great war spec and #book of life theory tags

"if it happens twice it might seem like an institutional problem" oh. OH. THIRD EYE HAS OPENED. because we know two things, right? gabriel didnt fall/wasnt intended to, so the 'happens twice' isn't realised. and heaven does have an institutional problem, practically embodies the term. so if this is foreshadowing. does aziraphale fall. oh no. Oh No (ive sort of discussed this in #scapegoat theory tag but that was strictly pre-eden context...) this however has actually just made me realise that this is a chekhov's gun literally pointed at aziraphale's head... shitshitshitshitshjthka

mrs cheng's weird look across the street see this is on my list but waaaay down it. think she could be a demon. will work on it at some point edit: talked a little bit about this in the #shax meta tag, but possibly needs a dedicated post, idk

nina and maggie's semi immunity to miracles so the bit where aziraphale can't miracle them? that to me is potentially the same explanation as the miracle blocker post (like it all connects). maggie is more immune than normal to the ball miracle? see #we need to talk about maggie theory tag. as for nina... im still not sure on. idk if she's a demon (which for me is a Thought if we consider that hell are short-staffed; she could be one of Many) but it feels a little on the nose... one for the list edit: talked a little bit about nina in the #shax meta tag, but definitely needs a separate post at some point

shax saying the shop isn't an embassy anymore but the demons still unable to get in i didn't think of it from this angle, but i think my theory still stands - under the #sanctuary/bentley theory tag

nina and maggie's immunity to miracles part 2 oh oops - see above

episode 6:

maggie being able to invite the demons into the shop i think she's an angeeeeeeellllll (see #we need to talk about maggie tag)

the speed at which the portal opens and it's potential as a means of spying my latest galaxy brain moment (i hope) - #sanctuary/bentley theory tag

haloes and the potential consequences of blowing them up this one is in the #halo theory tag

crowley opening the files not quite sure what you mean by this one, 🦭!!! do you mean about his rank? definitely tried parsing this particular headscratcher in the #AWCW spec tag

heaven was trying to restart armageddon in a way that seems awfully unofficial oooooohhh.... haven't looked at it this way, but definitely will be!!! might link in with #god is dead theory stuff, but will need more exploring!!!

saraqael having their own agenda honestly saraqael is my newest bad bitch (gn) and if my #saraqael spec is even halfway true, im going to explode i love them

"i'm the only first order archangel in the universe" *camera cuts to crowley* kinda talk about this in the #AWCW spec tag but since neil cremated the lucifer theory (rip) ive kinda left this aspect alone... tbh i don't think he was as important as he's set out to have been

"i'm the only first order archangel in the universe" full stop. statement's plenty suspicious on its own too. this is....... potentially very intriguing

memory wiping as just a thing heaven does when someone disobeys i need to reconcile #book of life theory with this tbh - like, the focus on memory is so strong in s2 that i strongly believe it has connection to falling... at which point, where does gabriel demotion/mem wipe punishment fit in? and where does saraqael fit in, too?

muriel having the same kind of position gabriel was going to be demoted to vaguely looked at this in #book of life theory tag posts i think, especially in reference to how their potential punishments (in muriel's case) mirror each other

heaven and hell are technically at war now. its not like anyone with authority actually called it off danced around this in the #halo theory tag, in reference to aziraphale declaring this new war, and yet they've been at war for a long time? yes the reflection of it being a cold war but still... interesting to think about especially when framed like this

it's possible to remove your essence and store it elsewhere definitely need to explore the possibilities and implications of this at some point, but the suggestion i made in the #25 lazarii theory post somewhat starts to look at this

hell is understaffed as already mentioned above

the shax furfur alliance not quite sure what to think about this, and whether it necessarily means anything more than it's put across (ie just that they are the danger duo of hell in s3?) idk tbh i just need to look at them both as individual characters a bit more first #shax meta tag!!!

the many strange things that could indicate something going on in the last fifteen minutes god.... just anything in the #feral domestic/final fifteen meta tag tbh

"does anyone ever ask for death" idk whether or not to take this as meaning anything deeper than metatron just idly thinking "hmmm aziraphale could refuse my coffee, refuse a chat... at which point ill probably need to destroy him etc. hey, i wonder if anyone - instead of coffee - has ever actually asked for death? funny name for a coffee shop"... and possibly a double meaning meant by Nina saying 'everything else was taken'?

saraqael being the only one other than crowley who recognises the metatron and their reaction well theres my school of thought that saraqael is potentially closer to metatron that we maybe thought (#saraqael spec tag), but then again - and this exact sentence just reminded me - i think in this particular instance, both saraqael and crowley have just come fresh from watching the trial, so that's why they both remember metatron... which begs the question of what happened between the trial and the final fifteen to make them forget? hmmm

almond syrup imo, #omelas theory

the possible miracle chime ehhhh i know i wrote about this but im still like 50/50 on it... but it fits my theory (in the #feral domestic/final fifteen tag) so im rolling with it - i think there might be a chime and i think it might be a failed miracle to change the coffee

the metatron and crowley seeming to have some kind of history lmao anything in #metatron spec or indeed #the fall/the great war spec tags tbh

aziraphale's peculiar mannerisms im getting so lazy with these responses now 🦭 anon im so sorry, but again recently speculated in the #feral domestic/final fifteen meta tag

the way the conversation between aziraphale and the metatron is only reported and very strangely transitioned in and out of as above

the nothing to see here shooting of the kiss this one...

i know ng said it was a continuity error but. the time skip on the clocks ...and this one ive looked at in the #time-stop theory tag, and im the same - not trusting continuity error on this... not just yet

the something's up vibes of metatron. the general scheming and manipulativeness. the framing as the wizard of oz. the colour scheme and the dice on his tie. the sigh of relief in the elevator lol #metatron spec

the credits scene i haven't really gone into this in any detail and tbh idk if it needs it - i think it's pretty reflective of some stuff ive talked about in the #aziraphale meta and the #feral domestic/final fifteen meta tags

plus special mention: not technically in the episode but the distinctly ominous madonna/crucifixion promo photos aaaaaaaand this one is in the #mary/pieta spec tag

again 🦭 anon im really sorry it got a little lazy towards the end!!! but im very, very grateful that you put this all in a list, because ive definitely got some stuff in mind that id like to parse out!!! and as ever - more than happy to scream about things so pop on back if you feel the need to scream with me!!!✨

[reiiieii]

OCD and Perfectionism, what’s the difference? But…it’s mostly about OCD.

Many people think they have OCD, while they’re actually perfectionists, or they think they’re perfectionists while they actually have OCD.

This is a post for you to educate yourself on this topic and know which one’s about you, from a person who actually has OCD!

OCD:

Have you ever written a word, and erased it because it felt bad?

Have you ever felt severely uncomfortable because you stepped on the black part of the pedestrian crossing?

Seems like a pretty OCD thing mate!

People with OCD are often germophobes as well, I’ll give you some examples.

1. You’re saying hi to someone, and they shake your hand, you start feeling dirty, and very uncomfortable, even though their hands weren’t necessary dirty.

2. Constantly washing your hands.

3. I personally won’t drink water from the same bottle someone else did.

4. Another thing I do, making sure everything is definitely clean.

(When I was a little kid, I used to have one of those gels that kill germs on your hands that I would take everywhere.)

Another thing is even numbers (2,4,6,8,10,) and for some reason 3 and 15????

(Also, many of us have favourite numbers as well.)

You may ask, “Jane what. Why numbers????”

Well!

I, for an example do things a couple times, (2,3,4,6,8,10,15) like tying my shoes! Or saying something to myself a couple times.

And much, much more.

Phobias, another thing.

People with OCD are considered neurodivergent, with means that we also have hyperfixations and severe phobias.

Phobias, so severe, that we can’t do anything about them.

It’s mostly

1. Germophobia

2. Emetophobia

Things like that.

Some people also have ticks!

I was misdiagnosed with Tourettes when I was like seven.

Because those “ticks” might sometimes look like those that people with Tourettes experience, but there’s one thing that makes it different - people with OCD can mask (resist those “ticks”).

They are very often linked to intrusive thoughts, AKA thoughts telling you to do something or else…

Like “turn on the light 4 times or else you’ll get a bad grade”

But this is just an example, many people get much worse or elses but I will not list them to not trigger anyone, and I’ll greatly appreciate not writing any in the comments, thanks!

Perfectionism:

Have you ever seen a thing so asymmetrical that you wanted to stab your eyes out?

You might’ve thought “Hey, that seems like a problem!”

Well…you weren’t wrong!

Perfectionism is not fun, but one of the things that make it different from OCD - you can look away and go on with your day without constantly feeling stress and panicking every second.

Perfectionism is something that’s not a disorder, meanwhile OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder)is.

Perfectionism is when you’re cutting cucumber into perfect squares, or when you’re cleaning the kitchen and sort everything by colours or sizes, when you draw a perfect line or a perfect circle.

Perfectionist characters are often shown as people who care about aesthetics and details, meanwhile characters with OCD are often shown as… well, freaks!

Perfectionist or OCD characters:

DTK from Soul Eater -

I was thinking about it for a long time, and at first I decided that he’s a perfectionist, but then I realised that his obsession about symmetry is way too big for him to just prefer that things look perfect.

Also, remember his obsession about number 8!

I personally think that he has OCD.

I also love him.

Monica Geller -

Same as DTK, I thought that she’s a perfectionist, but in one of the episodes with Richard she was talking about the “weird obsessions she has” which instantly made me realise she has OCD, and most likely is a perfectionist as well.

I personally think she has OCD.

Teru Mikami - Has Repetitive Behaviors And Compulsions!

For an example, there’s a scene in which he says repeatedly the word delete. I know this from the article linked below.

(Something that I also have, btw) he has OCD!

Levi Ackerman -

I’ve heard that throughout the whole series we can see his obsession over cleaning, which is often associated with OCD, but, the thing is… I never watched AOT, so I think he’s a perfectionist. Why? Because just because he’s cleaning a lot doesn’t mean he has OCD. Maybe it’ll change when I watch it and actually see for myself?

Aoyama from Keppeki Danshi! Aoyama-Kun -

I’ve heard…yes again, heard.

I did not watch it, maybe I will.

But! He is a germophobe, yes, on the OCD scale.

I personally think he has ocd

Kita Shinosuke -

“Kita tends to stick to a handful of daily routines, such as cleaning or practicing at specific times. He's stated that everything that happens to him is the result of upkeeping his routines.” …is what Google says. (I linked the article below)

Superstitions are also a big part of OCD.

I personally think he has OCD!

Thanks a lot for listening! -Jane