#arcane art slightly inspired

[littlebirddraws]

Some portrait practice I did this week!

Featuring @swaps55's Sam Shepard and two OCs, Kara Pendergrass and Muriel Aslany, from her absolutely beautiful Mass Effect series Opus.

I'm experimenting with my art style, trying to get away from relying on line art, I thought using some of my favourite characters would help make it less scary.

Plus I just really wanted to draw Aslany because she is the complex, badass, not-so-tall, dark, and handsome, female character I've been waiting for MY WHOLE GODDAMN LIFE!

All hail swapp for giving her to us, amen🙏

[prettybouquets]

𝓑rushstrokes of 𝓐ffection ᯓᡣ𐭩˚ ༘

fem!reader x viktor

𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽; none

word count; 1.2k

context; established relationship, reader is a expressionism artist

cw; kissing

The workshop always hummed with the sound of Viktor’s inventions—a faint whirring of gears, the occasional hiss of steam, and the rhythmic scratch of pencil against paper. Tonight, it was no different. You stood at your easel, positioned by the wide window of his lab, where moonlight streamed through and mixed with the flicker of arcane light.

You glanced over your shoulder, smiling softly at the sight of him hunched over his workbench, golden eyes focused intently on the mechanical pieces in front of him. His cane rested against the table, and his brow was furrowed in that familiar way you’d grown to love.

“Taking a break anytime soon?” you asked, swirling deep red paint on your palette.

“I could ask you the same,” he replied without looking up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’ve been staring at that canvas for over an hour.”

You chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I’m waiting for inspiration to strike.”

“Perhaps you should start by capturing your muse,” he teased, finally glancing up from his work. His gaze lingered on you, his expression softening. “You always say you need him nearby, no?”

You rolled your eyes playfully but felt warmth bloom in your chest. “If my muse ever sat still long enough, maybe I could.”

He chuckled, low and warm, and turned back to his project. Despite his reply, you noticed how his posture shifted, the lines of his shoulders relaxing just a touch. Viktor wasn’t one to admit it often, but he liked having you here, your presence bringing a quiet balance to the chaos of his inventions.

With a deep breath, you began moving your brush across the canvas. Broad strokes of crimson and violet danced under your hand, meeting sharp streaks of black. Your art was always vivid and emotional, your expressionism capturing feelings in a way words never could. Tonight, your work was inspired by him—the brilliance of his mind, the quiet strength of his presence, and the warmth he showed you in the little moments.

“What are you working on?” Viktor’s voice broke the silence.

You didn’t answer immediately, biting your lip as you added a streak of gold to the chaos of color. “Something complicated,” you finally said.

“Sounds like you’ve taken a page from my book,” he replied, standing with a slight wince before crossing the room to stand beside you.

You looked up at him as he leaned on his cane, his golden eyes studying your work. His proximity was enough to make your pulse quicken, even after months of being together.

“It’s... expressive,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “I see motion, strength—chaos, even. And yet, there’s harmony beneath it.”

You smiled, dipping your brush into a shade of deep blue. “Maybe I’m painting the way you make me feel. You’re a bit chaotic, but there’s always a sense of purpose in what you do.”

His gaze softened, and he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your wrist. “And you think I’m the muse here?”

“You’re always the muse,” you replied, your voice quieter now. “You’ve brought so much color into my life, Viktor. I think I’m just trying to capture a fraction of that.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze fixed on you. Then, with a rare tenderness, he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “And you bring light to mine, moje slunce.”

Your heart swelled at the endearment, a term he rarely used except in moments like this. You leaned into his touch, your brush forgotten as you reached up to rest your hand over his.

“Stay still for a moment,” you said suddenly, stepping back from his touch.

Viktor frowned slightly, confused, as you grabbed a clean brush and dipped it into the gold paint. Before he could protest, you dabbed the tiniest streak of gold onto his cheek, laughing at his bewildered expression.

“What are you doing?” he asked, though there was no real irritation in his voice.

“Adding a little sparkle,” you teased, grinning as you stepped back to admire your handiwork. “You wear brilliance so well, after all.”

He shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping him. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, but his eyes were warm, his smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You reached for a rag to clean his cheek, but he caught your wrist, his grip gentle but firm. “Leave it,” he said softly. “If it makes you happy, I’ll wear it.”

Your breath caught at the sincerity in his tone, your chest tightening with affection. Viktor wasn’t one for grand gestures, but his quiet acts of love spoke volumes.

“Come here,” he murmured, tugging you gently toward him.

You obeyed, your hands resting lightly on his chest as he leaned down. His lips met yours, warm and soft, the kiss slow and deliberate. Viktor wasn’t often one for public affection, even in the privacy of his lab, but moments like this were precious—filled with a quiet intensity that left you breathless.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment. “You are the most extraordinary thing in my world,” he whispered.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and you smiled, brushing your fingers lightly against his cheek. “And you are the reason my world feels full of life.”

For a while, the two of you stood there, the hum of the lab fading into the background. The air between you was warm and steady, a quiet promise of love unspoken but deeply felt.

When you finally returned to your easel, Viktor settled back at his workbench, though he kept glancing your way. The streak of gold still marked his cheek, catching the light whenever he turned his head.

You smiled to yourself, dipping your brush into a fresh pool of paint. Tonight, your masterpiece wasn’t just the canvas in front of you—it was the life you and Viktor had built together, full of quiet moments, stolen kisses, and endless inspiration.

© prettybouquets 2024. all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, or repost any work as your own.

[zerun0]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Small time skip: Around 7:24 pm —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lilredbird101]

I Would – Sevika x OC (Delilah)

OKAY~! So this is my first actual story that I'm posting on here. I've written a lot for myself but they've all sat on my laptop. *Hides hands shaking with nerves*

This piece was inspired by the cute AF art done by @sumilane.

It involves my OC, an environmental scientist and engineer called Delilah. She's a Piltover whistleblower who ratted on the company she was working for. They'd been finding work arounds with waste disposal regulations to cut costs and now she's down in the lanes. I'm not much of a digital artist, so this is my Picrew rendition of her. Unfortunately they don't do accents of greens and blues in the hair colours, so please imagine.

Now, I know that sumilane's art has S2 Sevika hair, but let's just play around with time lines here.

Also, Delilah calls Sevika "Osavika". It's a play on the Spanish word for "bear" - "osa". No, she's not Spanish, and YES, I know Spain doesn't exist in Arcane's universe. Let me be cute XD

Anyway, here is my sappy af fanfiction!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Genuinely, fuck my life.”

Sevika knew who it was before they’d even spoken. Delilah rarely went for any other shoes than her blunnies, and the weight and pace of her gait in them was distinct. Slightly heavy with purpose but twisting and skipping around obstacles lithely. However, Sevika was usually the first seated at the Last Drop for their meetups and by now could tell Delilah’s mood from her step. Today, they trudged.

Sevika glanced her way as she shed her lab coat with stiff shoulders, sighed and slumped onto the stool next to her at the empty bar, flopping her head onto the sticky tabletop. Only Silco’s top employees could be there before evening hours, and there wasn’t anyone else around to witness the lax in professional poise. “Rough day for you too, huh?”

Delilah peered up, old bar nut crumbs sticking to her forehead, noticing a few new bruises and cuts along Sevika’s body. Her eyebrows bounced up, but not in worry – she knew Osavika could take a beating, “Oh shit. How’s the other guy?”

Sevika’s mouth twitched upwards as she reached for her bottle and another glass to pour, “Lying in an alley with many regrets and broken ribs.” She slipped the glass into Delilah’s hand, gently brushing the food from her brow. Delilah scrunched her eyes shut as they tickled her nose. “What about you? You look like shit.”

Delilah scoffed and raised the glass to her lips, knowing full well how her crumpled and stained lab coat, red eyes with dark circles, pale and sunken cheeks, cracked lips and greasy, frizz-ball hair looked. “Silco’s got me working double time until the new compound is finished. Urgh!” She grimaced at the taste of the amber liquid, “This tastes like acetone.”

Sevika reached out, “Well in that case, I’ll take it back.” Delilah snatched her hand back, smacking the hand and gave a playfully indignant look. Sevika’s shoulders bounced, chuckling, “Then don’t complain about free drinks.” Delilah smiled and nodded in thanks and a long silence hung in the air. Sevika rolled her eyes, “You can still complain about everything else if you want.” Having known each other so long by this point, their time together was always the highlight of both women’s days, and a safe venting point. Anyone who’d seen their first interactions would not believe that these where the two same people they’d seen several years ago.

Their “bond” had formed early into Delilah’s contract with Silco.

He was conducting an inspection of the labs to make sure everything was running smoothly under new management. Sevika looked her up and down. The slight little thing had the body more of a dancer than one in their dangerous business, and she moved like it to, gliding with a bounce in her step from bench to bench.

Delilah noticed her wandering eyes, “Anything wrong, Sevika?” She spoke as if each consonant and vowel deserved recognition. Delilah’s voice had lilted out from her mouth like fluttering velvet during the explanation of possible carcinogenic side effects of long-term use, and Sevika found the contrast of presence to present such a juxtaposition. Messing with this little bird will be so much fun.

Sevika leaned against a table and noticed how Delilah tensed up, glancing at the set-up behind her, “Oh nothing, twinkle-toes. Just watching your moves. With pegs like that, what were you? Some kind of ballerina in your infinite spare-time?” She jabbed.

Delilah’s face remained neutral as she collected papers to let Silco check, “Lessons from five to seventeen years. Mum insisted. Principle ballerina in my cohort for six. Why? Are you wanting lessons?”

Sevika laughed, “Certainly not.”

Delilah turned back to her; now it was her turned to look Sevika over, “Shame. I’d pay to see you in a leotard.” And just like that, she was back to her tour with Silco.

Sevika blinked, What in the…? If this little fairy wanted to try and show her up or rattle her, she had another thing coming.

For the next long while, Sevika was strutting around and poking her nose into work benches. She’d seen the woman react when she got too close to them. Delilah liked things just-so and was hyperaware of every millimetre a Bunsen or beaker budged under Sevika’s prodding. She was trying hard to concentrate on Silco’s questioning, but this woman’s damn roaming and smirking was distracting for so many reasons. The feeling built up like beetles scuttering up her back and into her brain.

While Silco was grilling Delilah on specifics, she noticed Sevika messing around with the glassware currently distilling a new shimmer formula she was testing, making a full flask under the rotary evaporator tip dangerously. She immediately turned from Silco mid-sentence, “I’m sorry, sir-,” and— SNAP! Delilah’s voice dropped like a stone, booming out in gravelly baritone built to project, “Get your paws off my equipment you bloody great bear of a bothersome bitch!” It was like a different person burst forward. Her whole posture and accent had changed to something more guttural, more feral.

Delilah stormed over and shoved between her workspace and the woman who was at least a head taller, “If you want to blow yourself up then go ahead and piss that blue-hair brat off, maybe she’ll do you a favour, but don’t go fucking around with this shit. It is volatile IN the body alone, even after testing, and I haven’t run any on this unfiltered stuff yet. I appreciate this is not your field but take some professional advice and BACK OFF.”

Sevika paused, registering that this noodle-armed twig had just insulted her AND ordered her about. Her condescending smirk returned, “Professional advice? I thought you were stripped of all those shiny credentials after the racket you made whistleblowing Up Top.”

“It’s called sacrifice. But then again, I hear you know a lot about that.” Delilah wasn’t shielded from water-cooler talk. She knew all about Vander and the kids, despite being from Piltover.

The corners of Sevika’s eyes tensed, making her mouth appear all the more sharp, “Careful, Sunshine. Bears can get awfully heavy-handed when upset.” Delilah didn’t ease up, she actually raised herself on her tippy toes to get closer to Sevika’s face. Adorable.

“Aww, did I upset you? Go on then, Osavika, take a swipe. Just remember that I’m now the only person on your team that actually knows how to make your fluro coke syrup from scratch.”

Sevika couldn’t believe she was actually having fun underneath her scathed pride, “There are plenty of ways to hurt someone without taking them out of commission.” She gave the balanced Delilah a small shove to the chest, sending her tippy-toes down and scuttling to right themselves.

“Ha! Try it! I’m running off a three-day shift, four hours sleep, a caffeine overdose, ire and manic fucking energy. I guarantee I’ll at least get a few bites in.”

That sent a completely new feeling to Sevika’s gut.

“Ladies!” Silco was momentarily amused, but now just perturbed by the disruption.

The two women eased back, but Delilah wouldn’t return to Silco and the conversation until Sevika moved away from the bench space. She stared her down/up until the woman stepped back. Like a cloud soothing itself after a storm, Delilah posture and voice floated back to it’s original poise and tone, “Apologies, sir. Now, you specified that you wanted a longer run of the effects per dose. Understandable, but I wanted to discuss the side-effects and “hangover” of such a dosage with you. Are you wanting your users to actually LIVE through the experience or is “single use” what you’re going for here? Because I’m going to need more time and resources if it’s the former…”

Delilah kept glancing back towards Sevika occasionally to make sure she was keeping her hands at bay… And to… No, keep your head focused… Unpack that mess of thoughts later.

It had been nearly three years since then, and each gruelling week had brought more stock to their sparring relationship. Then through the tough times it simmered down to mutual respect and appreciation, eventually into what could be called a burgeoning friendship. When Sevika had invited Delilah out for a drink after work, that friendship quickly solidified. They’d had more in common than they originally thought, and being in the same space felt natural after the first hour.

Their company became routine. After-work drinks and matches at the pool table were where it started. Delilah had a terrible poker-face compared to seasoned pros, so cards weren’t an option with more serious players as Sevika quickly found out when she made a terrible decision to fund Delilah’s first games. Teaching her how to line up the cue, take long shots and snooker fools was much easier since she was a visual learner and knew how to work angles. Getting up close and personal to show her the holds was also a bonus for Sevika, though she wouldn’t admit it.

They started not-so-discretely scheduling their rounds and duties to coincide despite their different fields, Sevika volunteering to do follow-ups in the labs just to talk, and Delilah often personally delivering updates in Silco’s office instead of using lackies. Delilah enjoyed bringing the meagre crop of veg from her balcony garden to gift Sevika and invited her over many times to excitedly show her the new sprouts of greens when they finally emerged. They even went going out to get dinner on late nights at work, ending with Sevika dropping Delilah off at home personally… For safety reasons of course.

When Delilah invited Sevika in for late night drinks her mind was flooded with how she might usually play this with other women, but as they sat on the balcony and watched the skyline, it felt too sacred a moment for that. It felt like she’d been given a rest stop or sanctuary. At some point Delilah was mentioning how much she missed her father. She wished desperately that she could return to Piltover and mess around in his workshop with him again, have a joint in the gardens or just fucking talk to him. It was her one regret of her actions.

Sevika surprised herself.

“He sounds nice. Better than mine, anyway.” Delilah cocked her head to the side, not pushing for details or denying with an, Oh he can’t be that bad. Just listening. “Strong family units are hard to find in Zaun, as I’m sure you can imagine. Even more-so when your mum has had enough of the booze and debt and walks out. He didn’t take it easy on me before and sure as Hell didn’t after… Maybe I looked a little too much like her…” She took a sip of her whiskey, but barely moved otherwise, “Got his fucking eyes though…” Her bitterness at that last fact seeped through in her tone, just a little. A cluster of decorative amber lights in the distance brought back a kind pair of irises from Sevika’s memory, and she wished with everything that she’d been given those instead. That she could still look at her before she slept… Just one last time.

Delilah let the moment sit before reaching towards her friend, brushing her cheek. Sevika was startled to feel a tear smudging against Delilah’s soft thumb. “She must have been very beautiful.”

Sevika’s eyes widened slightly in shock at the tenderness of it all, and she tried not to let her lips wobble, “… She was.”

A feeling, so strong and burning like coals rose from her gut as she looked back at Delilah and absorbed the warmth radiating off her… Then she realised…

Damn it.

Inside jokes abound by then and the two felt comfortable enough to get into each other’s space. Not because their shackled feelings were secretly eating them up on the inside. No, of course not. Certainly not because every little touch or lingering morsel of eye-contact had their nerves zinging like electricity through copper wiring.

One time, Sevika was leaning over Delilah’s shoulder to observe the notes she was showing Silco, and her exhale skimmed Delilah’s neck, wafting into her own airways. She felt a fool, but Delilah could have sworn the warmth of it had snaked into her gut and impregnated her, even though she knew the reproductive and respiratory systems weren’t linked that way. She made a mental note to set up her showcase on cramped desk corners more often.

Another time, Sevika was escorting Delilah to a nearby shimmer outlet. It was a particularly hot day and Delilah asked ever so sweetly for a sip from Sevika’s canteen. Her dry windpipe made her voice sound hypnotically smoky, and how could Sevika say no? How could she look away from the droplet that hung at the corner of her mouth, or the pink tip of her tongue that darted out to catch it? How could she not let her tastebuds linger on the remnants of coconut lip balm around the rim of her bottle later?

And don’t get any ideas. Sevika only called Delilah “Sunshine” to make fun of her untameable sun-bleached curls, not because she felt warmer and lighter when Delilah was nearby. And Delilah only added Osa to the start of Sevika’s name so frequently because of the bear joke, not because she felt safe, protected and calm whenever Sevika was around. She didn’t even know the word’s original language fully; she just thought it was an apt pun.

Their infatuation – nay – deep affections were visible to anyone who cared to look or had the time, but somehow these two women, both brilliant in their own fields, had absolutely no damn clue. Or maybe they just couldn’t risk realising. Sometimes the now is too precious to risk the what if.

Delilah let her breath out in a slow, robust, steady blow – a regular stim Sevika had noticed at work -, pulling the pencil from her hair that was holding the lengths of curls up and dropping it to the bar-top with a clatter. The release of pressure had her sighing as she ran her hands through the unwashed mess, and Sevika tried not to file the view away for later. “What am I doing here, Sevika?” The despondent tone got her attention, and she turned to face her coworker more directly. “Like, is it really all worth it? I know it is, but… Is it?”

Delilah turned to her, with such a sad, confused void of a look that Sevika didn’t know what to do with. “… You know I’m not a mind reader, right? You’ll have to give me more detail than that if you want an opinion.”

Delilah breathed again, “When you’re a kid you get told the basic outline of life people follow, and most of us just aim to be happy. Well, here I am, and I feel like I’m in limbo or hell or… Something! My plan was always to get my higher education (check), become an environmental scientist or engineer (check), and find some way to reverse the caustic pollutants that filter down into Zaun,” Delilah made a comically negative buzzer sound and took another sip. “No one gave a fuck up top, and I burnt all my bridges by pushing too hard. Now I’m working for effectively a drug lord in exchange for funding which by the time I take out my living expenses is pittance. The work conditions are shit too, I’m in constant burnout, and as a Topsider no one wants anything to do with me down here! I have no one…”

Sevika looked down at her drink, trying not to let that last remark sting.

Delilah winced, realising how that must have sounded, “Except for you.” She reached her hand out to rest ever so naturally on Sevika’s metal wrist. She didn’t know what Sevika would call their connection to anyone else or if they would ever have anything more, but she knew what it was to herself and that it was at least a deep friendship between them… And that meant the world to Delilah. Sevika was technically her superior, sure, but it hadn’t felt like that for years. To Delilah it was so much more, even if it was just wishful thinking that was becoming harder and harder to silence.

There was something niggling in how Sevika made regular check-ins at the labs, why she felt that Sevika always listened with gruff but genuine care, why Sevika had made sure no one at work or the Last Drop gave her a hard time, why Sevika’s mere presence made her feel like she was in her own secure little bubble. And that barely scratched the surface. Sevika was the best part of any days Delilah spent down in Zaun. Even if what some said was true and it was just to protect an asset of Silco’s, Delilah still felt that… “You are my rough-as-guts saving grace here, Osavika.” The nickname played on her lips deliciously.

God, that smile. Sevika did a great job of hiding it, but she couldn’t ignore the volts that trilled up her arm at Delilah’s touch. It was just phantom pains, but God! Her body gave her no choice but to return the smile in her slight way. “Good save, there Lila.”

“I mean it.” Delilah squeezed the metal before letting go, as if it would have the give or sensation of flesh. “You’re my solace.” She looked forward and took another sip.

Sevika’s tone changed, “What would you do?”

“Huh?”

“If you could choose another life?” Sevika seemed hesitant, playing with the rim of her glass. She hadn’t had many conversations like this before Delilah came along. No one really seemed to think they had other options down here, but she was curious.

Delilah shook her head, “I’ve seen too many damaged by the waste pouring from Piltover. I have a moral obligation to fix this, or at least try. I couldn’t walk away from my work now--”

Sevika cut her off, “But if you could. No moral responsibility. No rules or restrictions. No one else to answer to… What would you do?”

Delilah was taken aback. She hadn’t thought about it in so long, but an image she had as a child came back into her mind. Suddenly her eyes didn’t seem so weary.

“A little house out in nature somewhere. Lots of windows for natural light, clear skies, a little garden with a bird bath, and a water source nearby. Maybe the beach or a river. I don’t know what I’d do to support myself, but maybe I could just get by. And maybe, if I’m lucky, I could have someone to share it with.”

The figure she envisioned with her was so clear in Delilah’s mind. They seemed lighter in the open space away from carnage, smile lines growing around their mouth instead of constant frown lines on their forehead. The sun, good food and rest had softened their dark circles, and their metal claws were replaced with appendages better suited for cuddling by firelight under stars. She wished she could take them away and show them something better. Delilah tried not to blush or look towards the woman by her side.

Sevika watched her mind wandering. It seemed like such a nice vision that she was envious of whomever Delilah would share it with. “It sounds nice,” she said softly, softer than she’d meant it to come out. The vision seemed to have Sevika in a daze as she imagined Little Lila pulling up crop from the dirt, painting the delicate flowers she’d doodle in her lab notes onto the door frame, or washing clothes by the river. Whenever she walked past her at the shimmer labs, Sevika could smell the orange blossom and jasmine oil Delilah dropped into her laundry, and she imagined what it would be like to carry the same smell. Sevika tried not to be so indulgent as to insert herself there in Delilah’s fantasy, but the idea of sharing all that with her felt so easy that she almost forgot who she was in service to.

Delilah shook herself, “Yeah, well, I know I would most definitely need another person to get that idea going. Money is scarce for everyone and a freedom like that is pricy. No one in Zaun would trust each other enough outside of marriage to share funds like that. No one above or below trusts me enough to get to know me in the first place, I barely have enough free time to brush my teeth under Silco let alone go on a date, and who in their right mind would want any part of Silco’s network, anyway? There’s no way I’d be able to get close to anyone to where they’d want to spend a life with me, never mind marriage.”

It slipped out of Sevika’s mouth as naturally as breathing, “I’d marry you.”

…

The air froze.

Delilah slowly turned to look in Sevika’s grey eyes. They’d always reminded her of heavy clouds ready to cool the earth. A brewing storm ready to unleash invigorating, glorious potential energy into the air and light up the sky. She shook her head, trying to get a grip of herself. She must have heard wrong!

“I’m sorry, say that again?”

For once in her life, Sevika felt cold with fear and hot with embarrassment all at once. She scolded herself as her eyes darted down. What had she done? Why would Lovely Lila want someone like her? How could she have jeopardised this one good thing in her life. God, she was a fool!

…

But she wasn’t a coward. She’d already said it. No turning back now. Sevika brought her eyes back to Delilah’s and in a moment her turmoil was swept away in fields of pale green on an overcast day; a natural soft-fall, a masterpiece hiding intricate life beneath it made from infinite small strokes, capable of growing nearly anywhere. She could almost feel the breeze on her face as she stepped out of THEIR front door. The one with the little flowers painted on it.

“I… I’d marry you.” And then it all felt so easy, “In a heartbeat.”

Delilah’s breath caught in her chest, “You… You would…? Really?” Sevika slowly nodded. “But… WHY?” Delilah sounded utterly bewildered. Hearing this seemed so surreal to her she’d dare not trust her own senses.

Sevika reached out tentatively, giving Delilah plenty of time to pull away before her flesh hand reached hers, “Because when I’m around you I forget who I’m meant to be. I feel like the world isn’t as big, ruthless or cruel. Your laugh plays in my head as I go to sleep, and when I wake up – most often from dreams of you - I feel like I’m holding my breath until I see you again. You’re one of the first people in so long who values me as a whole, someone I can completely trust to share myself with, and I love that you trust me enough to do the same.”

Delilah couldn’t believe that such a proclamation that she’d only ever imagined in her daydreams was happening. She knew what it would be taking for Sevika to be so vulnerable, and it filled her chest with a golden joy like sunshine throwing rainbows onto a wall through hanging crystals in a window. She was only kicking herself that she hadn’t done the same sooner.

Sevika continued, “I know our situation is difficult, and I know your work is important and comes first, but… When you’re ready… When you’re ready to live for you… I will spend my days making sure that you’re happy. Until then… I’ll take any part of you that you can give, and I’ll give you anything you want of me.”

Tears that she hadn’t realised were forming finally rolled down Delilah’s cheeks. Sevika reached up to cup her face ever so gently - a tenderness that she would hesitate to show in front of others – and Delilah leaned into it like a little kitten in relief, her own palm raising to press it further. The metal of her hand cooled Delilah’s flushed flesh as she wiped away the offending droplets, and though she knew Sevika couldn’t truly feel it, Delilah pressed a kiss into it anyway. Sevika’s voice came out in a whisper, “I love you, Delilah.”

Delilah’s breath escaped in shudders as the years of yearning finally flew out of her in an explosion of butterflies. More tears flowed and she giggled at the silly worry of bringing rust to Sevika’s hand. Delilah threaded her hands into Sevika’s short locks and brought her forehead to rest on hers, tasting each other’s breath in the small space.

“Oh, good grief, Sevika… I love you too.” And in that moment their lips and hearts finally met.

[writerblue275]

Mask of the Black Rose! Ezreal One-Shot

Inspiration: I’m fucking feral at this splash art oh my fucking god. I love formal attire on people. (Oh my god those are thigh high boots on him.) Also damn, Jarro Darkfeather confirmed? Lmaooo. (I cannot think of a title for this my brain is mush I’m so sorry.)

Champion: Ezreal (tying this into my FWB!Ezreal fic general universe because I can. But like it can be read on its own.)

Genre: One-shot

Type: Mostly fluff. A teeny bit of angst to start things off but it gets fluffier. And a little suggestive at the end.

Gender: Gender Neutral reader.

TW: SPOILERS for ARCANE S2 plot points (you have been warned!!!!). Slight angst (in form of worry for the well-being of a partner). Slightly suggestive at the end. Swearing.

“Ezreal, you what??” Your voice peaked with shock and you gaped at your now sheepish-looking boyfriend.

“Shhhh! Baby! Baby, I promise I was fine. I’m here now, right? Nothing to worry about!” He gestured to himself with his hands to emphasize his point.

You breath left you in a incredulous laugh. “Ezreal Lymere, what do you mean ‘nothing to worry about?’ You were dealing with the fucking Black Rose of Noxus?? You went to a Black Rose Masquerade?! They know about you? They know you’re Jarro Lightfeather?” You couldn’t help as a touch of panic entered your voice.

Ezreal realized he needed to shift things. He gave you a small pout. “Hey…come on…you know me…Are my talents not worth the recognition?”

You hummed and pouted back, but Ezreal could see you relax a little. “You know that’s not what I meant, baby. You do deserve recognition. But the Black Rose…” You stepped closer to him and hugged him tightly. “I know you can take care of yourself. As you said, you’re here now. But Ez, the Black Rose is so dangerous. You heard how easily they were able to infiltrate Piltovan society during Ambessa Medarda’s attempted takeover. And they weren’t even on her side. What do they want with you?”

Ez wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead softly, reassuring you he truly was there. “They didn’t say anything specific. So I guess it really was just an introduction to each other. I don’t mean to worry you, Angel, I promise that’s not my goal. They just made their interest in me clear throughout my time in Noxus, and it didn’t seem like the smartest move to ignore them when I got the invite to the Silken Danse. I do know they’re dangerous. That’s why I didn’t want to blow them off.”

You sighed and nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. “I suppose that makes sense. But the Silken Danse,” you murmured. “What an interesting name for a party. Did you at least have fun?” You looked up at him curiously.

Ez grinned down at you. “We thought the Piltovan society parties were stuffy…oh man you havn’t seen anything like a Noxian masquerade.”

“So is that a no?” You giggled.

“Well I for sure would have enjoyed it more if you were there. You make any event a million more times fun and enjoyable.” His grin morphed into a playful smirk.

You gently pushed his chest and laughed. “You’re such a charmer, oh Prodigal explorer. Now answer my question.”

“It was…interesting, I’ll give it that. Thank fuck for the cotillion lessons we had as kids. The dance floor in Noxus is just as much of a battlefield as a gladiator arena. Knowing how to navigate around society types at least allowed for some interesting people watching.” His voice grew thoughtful as he mused.

“Anyone I’d know? Wait that might be a silly question considering it was a masquerade.”

Ezreal chuckled. “Actually there was a familiar face. You know of Renata Glasc, yes?”

You stared at him with wide eyes. “Miss Glasc was there? Oh that’s interesting…and a little alarming but…I suppose it’s fine.”

He nodded. “Those were my thoughts as well.”

“Any interesting dance partners?” You can’t help as a little tiny twinge of jealousy slipped into your tone.

He immediately shook his head and pecked your lips softly. “Nope. None of them were you.” His voice and expression were sincere.

Your cheeks blushed the slightest pink as you grinned. “Good answer, Lymere.” You said, making his smirk return to his face.

“Thank fuck I wore reinforced shoes though, otherwise my feet would have been in a lot of pain. Turns out Noxians are very hit-or-miss when it comes to dancing abilities.” He let out on a chuckle.

“Oh really? Are you sure it was them and not you?” You gently teased, even though you knew from personal experience that Ez was a surprisingly divine dancer.

You continued. “Speaking of your shoes, what else did you wear? Will you describe it for me?” You loved when Ezreal wore more formal attire, and he definitely knew this.

One of his eyebrows arched. “Now how did I know you’d ask that? I can actually do you better than just telling you. I brought the entire outfit home with me, mask included. Would you like to see it?”

You can’t help but let out a happy little gasp. “Wait really? Of course I would!”

You helped Ezreal unpack the clothes, admiring them. “Oh wow…I’ve seen you in formal wear, but never something this…intricate! The vest especially is beautiful.” You picked up the gold mask and held it up to his face. “Oh! It seems like this wouldn’t work with your hair in front, Ez. Did you push your bangs back?”

He nodded and pecked your lips quickly. “I did. Give me a second in the bathroom while I change, and I can also show you how that worked. You’ll have to tell me what you think.”

You waited on his bed as he went into the bathroom to change. After what felt like a half hour, (but was really only 10 minutes) he walked out of the bathroom. “So? What do you think?”

You could only blink at him with wide eyes and pink cheeks, rendered speechless as you take in the site of your usually handsome boyfriend looking downright dashing in this new outfit.

It was tailored to perfection on him. While Ezreal wasn’t buff, he was certainly in shape, and this outfit showed that off. The coloring on the outfit also fit his coloring very well. The gold mask covering the top half of his face was striking. And his hair! His normally slightly messy hair was brushed up and neatly slicked back away from his forehead. You felt your heart flutter and race as you studied him, and you took a deep breath to try and steady yourself.

Your reaction brought a smirk to his lips as he slowly walked closer to you. “Well well…normally I have to work a lot harder to render you speechless.” His smirk widened as his words flustered you further and you let out a soft squeak.

Ezreal stopped directly in front of you and gave a practiced bow. “Now, may I please have this dance?”

Despite your brain currently short-circuiting, you managed to whisper, “Y-yes…fuck yes,” in response, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet.

Once you were on your feet, you seemed to snap back to reality. Almost without thinking, you gripped the collar of his jacket and eagerly kissed him, the gold of his mask surprisingly warm against your face as it absorbed his body heat.

Ezreal chuckled softly once you pulled back for air, beginning to sway with you. “So your reaction tells me I should wear this again. Is that correct?”

You allowed him to lead you, grinning widely and smoothing out his collar. You ran your hands down his chest to feel the luxurious material of the vest beneath your fingertips. “I certainly have no qualms if you break this outfit, or any elements of this outfit, out the next time we’re required to get a little fancy. I should commission an outfit to match.”

Ezreal pecked the tip of your nose softly. “Two steps ahead of you. It’s already paid for, you just need to go get measured and tell the tailors what you want.”

You laughed. “I should have known. I’m sure you knew exactly what my reaction to this outfit would be, hrm?”

Ez smirked and kissed your neck softly, causing you to gently shiver in his arms. “I had an idea. But now I have an even better idea.”

Your voice became breathier as he continued to nibble along your jaw. “Oh? And what might that be?”

Ezreal’s voice was like silk as he whispered in your ear. “Now I want to see your reaction as I take it off~…”

AHHHH. I haven’t felt so inspired to write like this in a while lmao. I wrote this same day (apologies for any typos). Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!! 💙

[great20sworld]

LIVING THE DREAM

A Viktor x Reader fanfiction

Summary: What happens when a mundane Monday night becomes the start of your dimensional journey? You, an ordinary human with an even ordinary life is transported to the wondrous world of your imagination, to the city of Runettera, meeting your favourite characters in their own world. Will you survive and find the life of your dreams, or would you be another unfortunate lost case in dimension travelling?

Chapter 1: The lucky day or not

_______________________________

"Okay."

"This is getting out of hand."

You thought to yourself as you sat amoungst your self-built shrine of all that was beloved to you- maybe more than your own life. Your fingers were beginning to ache from all the restless typing and scrolling and your eyes were burning in the middle of the night as the easy read light rays from your phone strained your retina. Your walls were lined with pictures of them. Your "shrine", made of plushies, print out fan arts and keychains was all for them.

Your beloved, cherished, life saving yet almost detrimental obsession of a fandom...

Arcane.

You hadn't ever gotten yourself this deep in the fan culture or worried about the character arcs or stuck in theorising about the upcoming events or shipping two characters, as you have now. It had taken over your life, even your job and friends.

Also, you knew you won't be crawling out of this wonderfully crafted pit anytime soon. Neither the appeal of the show nor the fan community would let you. The story had inspired you to create and to consume. You had been called "cringe" and "obsessive" by many, but did you mind?

Absolutely not. Anything for your characters.

_______________________

You looked at the pause screen in your television, as you ate another biscuit. It was currently zoomed in on one of the main characters. His thin lean skeletal figure leaning against the cane by his side, held by his beautifully long phalanges. Two beauty spots adorning his face- one at the corner of his lips and another right below his eye, gaunt, pale features reigned by indomitable focus. His hair, longer than what would be considered "short" for a man, covering the sides of his face, as his golden eyes showed an expression of interest at something written on a half exploded chalk board, his lips slightly parted as if he were going to say something; as soon as you click the resume button.

You weren't going to anytime soon.

Oh no, you wanted to admire him. For he was your favourite.

You chuckled at the funny expression the particular scene was paused in. Then your laughter softens as you smile to yourself, lost in admiring the beauty of a soul who doesn't even exist in your world, or rather doesn't exist at all.

If only...

Oh well....

You hit the resume button.

Suddenly, as you were about to bite into another treat, and hear the melodic Czech accent from the man onscreen, your focus was interrupted by a loud crash.

Glass shattering...

You sat up, alarmed, as the power goes out.

Wasn't this just your lucky day!

You shivered slightly. Not much of a fan of the dark, oh you were not. Feeling your way upto the emergency lamp, you made your way to the kitchen, from where you had heard the glass shattering as well.

Probably the mice in your attic has found its way down through the holes in the ceiling again. The repairman could never fix it, no matter how much money they charged you. So, you had to take matters into your one hands with mouse traps and super glues, with your own additions to the design ofcourse. You weren't a freelance science researcher for nothing! Best to be cautious of shattered glass though....

You were greeted with the sight of a glowing watch lying on the floor (and the shattered glass of your windows), the sole source of glowing golden light, much brighter than a candle light in the entire room. Cautiously, but with curiousity, you gently lean in, to take a closer look.

Woah...

This wasn't one of your typical monday nights.

The "watch" (if you could even call it that) displayed not a dial with needles, but a small projection of what seemed to be...bubbles. Lots and lots of golden ones, floating over it, like a 3d floating model of the solar system. The circular rim of the watch were filled with tiny buttons, all very minute for you to even make out the strange symbols in them. You find yourself mesmerised by the patterns forming over the surface each time the "watch" ticked. However, your observation was interrupted by two voices outside.

"Did you forget to switch it off atleast? If it falls into the wrong hands..."

A gruff, scratching voice demands, as if loosing its patience.

"Well...if you had given me the time to, I certainly would have, steve!"

Another said, though this sounded a lot more squeakier, but not lacking in arrogance.

"You idiot!" Steve (as you think) cries out. "Now look what you've done Charon, we're trapped...in one of these human contraptions, shame on us... And we've lost the Chronoporter!"

Your eyes widen. "Human traps"? "Chronoporter" ?

Charon huffs, clearly unamused by his partner's ranting. "Why you gotta be so negative?" Then, "and why did we even name it Chronoporter?"

A sound which can only be described as a whine and a grunt is heard, before "Charon" yelps.

"Ow! Don't zap me!"

"Charon! When I said you need to find a way out of this trap, I didn't mean throw the Chronoporter!" Then, "and you know 'Chronoporter' sounds cool. I got it from an earthling tv show!"

"Steve, you ever watch those...human action movies, with violence and stuff?"

"No..?"

"Well, in those, when the main character gets stuck, they throw around objects to reach buttons which will release them."

"....."

"when we're back in Neutrinoverse cloud, do remind me to fire you from the next mission."

Charon giggles. "But you can't, Steve! Without the Chronoporter, we can't jump worlds!"

Steve growls.

Your curiousity gets the best of you. You gently peek out from behind the door at the dark streets, lit only by the farway street lamps, not powered by your power station.

Oh...

Oh those aren't humans or mice that are caught in your trap.

Absolutely bizarre.

Infact, you didn't even want to know what Steve and Charon were. The scientist in you flinches at her own words. But, sometimes it will be like that. Their loss that they will end up in a research facility somewhere, which is not yours.

You take a step back, and your feet crunches on a piece of the shattered window, crackling under your shoe. Your breath hitches as two "heads" (if you can call it that) turn towards you. Theirs "eyes" glinting with what your literature induced mind thinks to be malice.

The creatures stood before you an incomprehensible mass that defied logic and reason. You found yourself assigning familiar features to its shape to maintain your sanity. Its "head" loomed large, though it was merely a suggestion of one, a focal point in the writhing chaos which you hoped for their sake could perform bodily functions. You imagined eyes, though they were more like voids where eyes should be, black and depthless. A "nose" seemed to form, an abstract bump. Its "limbs" twisted and undulated, not truly arms or legs, but extensions of its amorphous body that you forced into a semblance of limbs. The creature was a nightmare made tangible, a thing that could only be described by the mind's desperate attempt to impose order on the formless. One creature's "mouth" opens, though what you expected was a series of gurgles or yelps, this one spoke in an accent unknown to you, but in perfect English nonetheless.

"oh! Hello there...human! Can you help us?"

You stood there, stunned, your mouth gaping wide open at the creature.

"I don't think she heard you Steve..."

"shut up, Charon, I'm speaking in an earthling's language, the settings haven't changed."

"hey, umm...could you toss the Chronoporter back here to me?"

The creature gestures with finger like appendage to the "watch" that was laying on the floor. So that was it...

"the Chronoporter...back...here...to...us!"

"Charon, she's not stupid come on, don't be demeaning..."

"well she's just staring right now, Steve..."

You spoke up quickly. If this was what you think it is... Oh gosh, won't you be rich and famous with wealth and fame unfathomable by your little mind!

"um...yes...uh...what does it do?" You ask, softly.

"oh! She speaks!" Steve exclaims before continuing, "Um... Yes, the Chronoporter... You earthlings don't have it but, it's a highly useful device in our dimension, which can help to...in your words... Transport the body and mind to another dimension, whichever is desirable for you."

By all that was holy, this was your lucky day!

Two aliens and a hitech gadget?! You need to tell someone! Anyone! Any organisation perhaps? Maybe your friend will help?

You grab the "Chronoporter" and make a rush for it, your fingers clutched around the metallic straps of it, electrical buzzing sharp on your tender skin, but ecstatic on your sensations.

"what...Hey! Stop! What are you...!"

You pointedly ignore the loud shouts and curses coming from behind you, as you make your way outside. The darkness of the power outage hadn't felt any less unimportant than it was today, this moment. You've never felt this exhilarated before, not even that time when you fixed the computer of your boss, and everyone cheered.

You pinch yourself. It hurts.

It wasn't a dream!

You rush to your nearest friend's house, when all of a sudden...

"Choose your next location."

"Please select the next desired option."

You look down at the Chronoporter. It was starting to buzz, to beep loudly and that mechanical voice was in urgency.

"INITIATING AUTOMATIC SHUT DOWN IN... 5...4...3...2..."

"No....No...NO!"

You press the brightest button.

Won't you be delighted?

_______________________________

Chapter 2 available NOW in my Tumblr page.

[hinamie]

hi hina i have some art related questions! 1) is it easy to go back to an old art style on account of already having drawn in it or do you actively have to train yourself to go back? for example, i notice that your lmhs art style is softer and your current one is sharper (that's the extent of my technical art terms knowledge gomen) 2) which of your own art styles/eras is/are your favorite(s)? 3) do you prefer more stylized or more realistic art styles? 4) are you easily influenced (consciously or unconsciously) by other art styles? i know when i read something i really love, i start to mimic that style in my own writing. 4) do you have any favorite classical paintings? i know the fallen angel is one.

hi mariam!!! sorry it’s taken me so long to this so late fjhdskgdjf i won’t lie some of these questions Stumped me but i will try my best to answer !

it depends? I think a lot of my art style shifts come naturally as the result of growing and improving my skills, so “going back” to an older style might be hard to do without falling back on bad habits that I might have grown out of, or simply things that i no longer think look good. i don’t think i would have to train myself necessarily because the muscle memory is still there, but i might have to stop myself from wanting to Improve aspects of the style in ways that might fundamentally alter what made the style recognizable in the first place. in terms of the lmhs art style, or the soft/sketchy look i was using at the time, that specifically would be pretty easy to go back to I think, since it’s basically a slightly cleaned version of how my art looks early in the process :> i would just have to take a clean sketch + add colours w minimal shading, skipping the lineart and intense render 

it feels like a copout to say but i love where i am now :’> from what i’ve seen it’s almost like. a gag among artists of arcane being a catalyst fr drastic art improvement but it IS . everything about the art and animation in that show inspires me so much and it’s been great taking what I like from it and trying to mimic and adapt it into something that suits how I like to work. even though it’s frustrating that I take longer to finish a piece, I really am so happy i’m back to painting i’m so proud of my current render and anatomy and use of colour. i think i’ve finally found a good balance of textures as well and overall i’ve just been having so much fun pushing myself into new brushes and finding new ways to use old ones :D

i think i’m somewhere in the middle but leaning more into realism, especially when it comes to the way I colour. obviously there are aspects that I stylize to suit my needs but especially in terms of Other Anime Art i’m aware that I fall more on the realism side of things lol

yes omg i’m so easily influenced and that constant influx of new inspiration and learning how to adapt to it is one of the things i love most about drawing and making art!!! i kind of mention this notion in my lil gush about arcane but i LOVE looking at other artists' works or at things that inspire me and picking it apart in my brain to see what/how i can use it! i got into art by “copying” and even as i’ve grown into being comfortable enough to make my own stuff, I think that there is always value in learning from what you love and figuring out how to make what you love about it your own. maybe it’s not that deep bc i draw anime fanart but art fr me is an amalgamation of every piece of media ive loved and of everything i’ve ever found beauty in

i do love the fallen angel painting but tbh i don’t think classical art occupies a very big place in my brain fhjdskgfj my knowledge is sadly lacking :< i like claude monet and roberto ferri’s work a lot but overall i think modern art and media means a lot more to me in terms of where I draw my inspiration from

[albifrons]

Ten People I'd like to know better :)

tagged by: @reineyday

Thanks for the tag! Real quick just want to let you know that I love your art!! If I'm remembering correctly I originally followed you for your grimmichi stuff, but it turned out that we share a lot of fandoms haha

last song: the drumline show that my students will be playing for their upcoming season lol. We're giving them their music tomorrow so I've been listening to the show a LOT in preparation (it's sick. My boss actually commissioned me to write a short story to base the show on, and what our composer ended up writing off of that was SO COOL).

favorite color: blue and green lol. If you look at my wardrobe, it's probably not hard to tell. But over the past year I've been enjoying exploring warmer tones too hehe

last book: the last book I finished was Rhythm of War, by Brandon Sanderson, and it's SO GOOD. It's the fourth book in the Stormlight Archive series, and if you enjoy high fantasy, I'd definitely recommend it! I'm also currently reading the Well of Ascension, which is the second book in the first era of Mistborn, and that's also super good.

last movie: I watched the Untouchables two weeks ago, and ended up really enjoying it!! I'm sort of a sucker for crime/gangster films, but I was wary of it since I didn't actually like Goodfellas all that much when I watched that, and I was slightly worried the Untouchables would be similar. I shouldn't have been concerned tho, since they're vastly different movies, and I ended up liking the film!

last tv show: Arcane :) I'm enjoying the collective aneurysm we're all having rn lol

sweet/spicy/savory: probably savory but also sweet sometimes. I'm a wimp so I can't really handle spice most of the time 💀

relationship status: single. I'm not really looking to date right now lol

the last thing I googled: details about signal transduction pathways for a homework assignment hrhgfjhb

current obsession: hrmmmmmm. Right now it's a toss up between the dnd campaign I'm dm-ing for, and my novel. I've been in a dry spell when it comes to my novel for a hot minute, but inspiration finally struck and I'm trying to take advantage of it while it's here jhdfvh

looking forward to: giving out music to my students! We've been working on this show for them since around March, and I'm really excited for them to have it!! We've also planned out a really stupid scavenger hunt for them to do to get their music tomorrow, and I can't wait for them to complain about it hrjfbhdjhfbv (in typical high schooler fashion, they view themselves as too cool for something like a scavenger hunt lmao).

no pressure to respond, but I'll tag @stealingpotatoes @wrencatte @poundcakecrm @501stlothcat @sassafras-lass

@ashrayus @midnigtartist @sketchupnfries @bubblyernie @filibusterfrog

[khira-queen]

Day #2 - Horizon

Sheltering beneath a tree from a particularly scorching Thanalan Sun, just beyond Horizon's Sunset Gate, sat Khira. The pale Miqo'te Keeper squinted through beads of sweat perched on her eyelids, searching the rocky landscape for something, anything... interesting. Sighing, she put her brush and palette down to the ground before wiping her eyes clear with the back of her hand. It was an absolutely average day, with nary a spectacle, just wandering peiste's and... *smack* ...swarms of midges. Khira rubbed her cheek as she slumped back against the tree, pouting at the 'training' she had been given by an obliging tutor.

"I go to the effort of travelling all the way to Sharlayan, trading my knowledge and expertise for arcane tutelage, and that smug JERK of an educator insists on sending me around the world to find 'inspiration' before he'll teach me anything useful." She huffed, nails digging at the dirt beside her in frustration. Khira was already an accomplished arcanist, had been a lecturer herself at Mealvaan's Gate and had even advised the Maelstrom once upon a time. The thought of being treated like a novice stung, all the more when the task at hand seemed so irrelevant to her interest.

-

A few bells passed before the Khira returned to Ul'dah, painting in hand, canvas stained with dust and sweat. She had eventually pushed beyond her frustrations, she knew she would, it was the only way to get the knowledge she was after.

"Where is that insufferable... ah" Wandering through the stall of the Sapphire Avenue Exchange, she spotted her teacher, perusing a stall selling what could only be described as 'colour splashed haphazardly on parchment by a blind coblyn'. Khira was sure he would call them modern or, twelve forbid, 'avant-garde'.

"Ahah! Khira, my wayward pupil, you return! Quickly, quickly, over here." Shushulufa Fafalufa was a slightly rotund, dark haired Dunesfolk Lalafell, who, were it not for the splotches of coloured paint over his clothes, hands and even sometimes face, would easily be mistaken for a barrel of ale from a distance. The man spoke as if he were an expert on all things artistic, though after having visited countless purveyors of paintings with him, she wondered if art might be all he actually knew. "This stall owner was just apprising me of a new movement sweeping through Eorzea, artists painting without thought, letting fate drive their works! isn't it just fascinating! I may have to revise your..."

"Here." Khira interrupted, thrust her own painting into his gesticulating hands. "I've done as you asked, found 'inspiration' in the beauty of the land." The picture itself was barely more than an amateur attempt at landscape art; mottled brown jagged shapes for rocks, green sweeps of the underbrush, a sandy looking road cutting through it all, finished with a spiky orange ball in the centre. A bomb had wandered out of Copperbell.

"O-oh! How... marvelous!" Shushulufa smiled awkwardly, instinctively wanting to find a way to praise the piece while being simultaneously bewildered by its lack of refinement. Khira could only grunt in return, frustrated. She was beginning to think she had been conned into escorting an art dealer around the continent.

[universe-in-the-void-in-the-cube]

Hetalia D&D 5e/Pathfinder 1e - Part 2 Allies

I did a thing yesterday. Got on ChatGPT (I know bad mun) and made rough NPCs for my Pathfinder 1e game. And I used every core character from Hetalia. So, I shared with 3 Hetalia fans I follow and was told to share all of them if I did all of them. Which I did. So here we go.

America

Name: America

Race: Human (or if you want a more exotic option, a Half-Elf)

Rationale: To reflect America's ability to adapt and be diverse, Humans are a solid choice. A Half-Elf could represent his mixed heritage and cultural influences.

Classes (Levels 10-12):

Fighter (10 Levels)

Rationale: America is known for his brash confidence and love of combat, particularly in a heroic and exaggerated manner. The Fighter class showcases his ability in combat and various weapon proficiencies. He would likely favor ranged weapons, possibly a firearm or bow to represent his portrayal as a "hero."

Bard (2 Levels)

Rationale: Given America’s upbeat personality and the love he has for fun and entertainment (especially in the form of movies and video games), the Bard class gives him access to skills that reflect his charisma and charm. He could use bardic music to inspire others in battle, fitting with the themes of camaraderie found in Hetalia.

Paladin (1 Level)

Rationale: This reflects America's ideals of heroism, justice, and a certain moral code. Although a Paladin has a strict code of conduct, you can interpret this lightly, given America's character might be more of a self-styled hero than a traditional one.

Final Stats Example:

Race: Human (or Half-Elf)

Classes: Fighter 10 / Bard 2 / Paladin 1 (Level 12 Total)

Alignment: Chaotic Good (reflecting his brash and freedom-loving nature)

Skills: Emphasis on Charisma-based skills (like Diplomacy and Perform) along with typical Fighter skills (like Athletics, Intimidate, etc.).

Feats: Select feats that enhance combat prowess (like Power Attack, Deadly Aim) and those that bolster his Bardic abilities (such as Lingering Performance).

Equipment: Focus on a firearm (like a musket), some flashy armor, and possibly a few whimsical magical items that represent his quirky traits (like a cape that makes him appear more heroic).

England

Race: Human (Varisian)

The Varisian subrace fits well with England’s cultural background and provides some interesting flavor, particularly with their connection to caravans and the arts.

Classes:

Arcanist (Base Class) - England is known for his wizardry, especially with his affinity for magic, spells, and potions. The Arcanist class combines elements of Wizardry and Sorcery, which suits his character.

Rogue (Core Class) - He exhibits traits of cunning, cleverness, and a knack for strategy, akin to the Rogue class, giving him skills in deception and stealth, not to mention his dandy personality.

Bard (Core Class) - England has a notable interest in arts, history, and culture, along with a tendency to tell stories and stand out in social situations. Therefore, a few levels in Bard would further reflect his character and provide support to allies with buffs.

Level: 7th level (3 Arcanist, 2 Rogue, 2 Bard)

NPC Stats (Overview)

Race: Human (Varisian)

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Profession: Wizard and occasionally a bardic storyteller, schemer, and sometimes a fighter in various capacities.

Ability Scores (with examples of suggested stats):

Strength: 10 (Average, not particularly athletic)

Dexterity: 14 (Slightly enhanced for stealth)

Constitution: 12 (Decent resilience)

Intelligence: 18 (High, emphasizing magical prowess)

Wisdom: 12 (Save against silly antics)

Charisma: 16 (Strong presence and personality, good for a bard)

Skills

Arcane Knowledge: High ranks in Spellcraft and Knowledge (Arcana)

Social Skills: High ranks in Diplomacy, Bluff, and Perform

Subterfuge: Stealth and Disable Device from the Rogue class

Feats

Spell Focus (Evocation) - Represents his affinity for explosive, powerful magic.

Combat Casting - Helps him maintain spellcasting in combat.

Bardic Knowledge - Reflects his vast knowledge of history and storytelling.

Spells

Arcanist: Include spells like Magic Missile, Grease, Invisibility, and Charm Person.

Bard: Can include Inspire Courage and Cure Light Wounds for support.

Equipment

Preferred Equipment: A collection of magical trinkets and potions, an elegant cloak, and perhaps a unique magical item that symbolizes his heritage.

Role in Game

Campaign Role: England can serve as a powerful ally or intriguing antagonist. He may have political motivations, seek to protect cultural legacies, or even engage with players in strategic planning to deal with other NPCs.

France

Race: Human (or alternatively, Half-Elf for a more exotic flavor)

Human provides flexibility with the extra feat and skills.

Half-Elf adds to the charm with some elven features and a bonus to social skills.

Classes:

Bard (Archaeologist or Whispers)

Represents France's artistic and charming personality, with bardic performances, social skills, and access to a wide variety of spells that can confound, charm, and dazzle.

You could choose Archaeologist for a more adventure-themed bard, reflecting a romantic and adventurous spirit.

Rogue (Bardic Trickster or classic Rogue)

Reflects the cunning and sly nature often attributed to France, embodying aspects of stealth and charm.

Bardic Trickster enhances natural bard skills with a bit of rogue-esque utilities, while the classic rogue emphasizes skills like deception and acrobatics.

Magus (Arcane Trickster)

The Magus class adds a magical flair, supporting the artistic and sophisticated aspects of France, blending arcane power with combat prowess.

The Arcane Trickster archetype further emphasizes stealth, trickery, and a touch of panache.

Level: 10 (You can adjust this based on the power level of your campaign, but level 10 provides a good mix of abilities and spells while allowing access to mid-tier class features.)

Example NPC Statistics:

Race: Human

Classes: Bard 5 / Rogue 3 / Magus 2

Alignment: Chaotic Good (reflecting France's free-spirited nature)

Key Abilities:

Charisma: High, as both the Bard and Rogue rely on it for many of their skills and spells.

Dexterity: Important for skills regarding stealth and agility.

Skill Focus: Perform, Diplomacy, Bluff, Acrobatics, and Sleight of Hand.

Suggested Spells:

Bard Spells: Charm Person, Invisibility, Heroism, Glitterdust

Magus Spells: Shocking Grasp, Touch of Fatigue, Minor Image

Roleplaying Tips:

Draw from France's charismatic nature, often using flowery language and art references.

Portray a certain jovial and flirtatious demeanor but blend it with some cunning and mischievous vibes.

China

Race: Human

China is often depicted as wise, resourceful, and possessing a deep connection to his culture. The Human race provides versatility in abilities, skills, and extra feats.

Class Options:

Samurai (Base Class) - (Level 7)

Justification: The Samurai class represents China’s warrior spirit and emphasis on honor, martial prowess, and cultural heritage. This class has a focus on combat skills and allows for the use of katana-like weapons, fitting with China’s historical warrior representation.

Oracle (Unchained) (Base Class) - (Level 3)

Justification: The Oracle class symbolizes China's connection to spirituality and wisdom. The "Mystery" aspect can represent the rich traditions and philosophies of Chinese culture. Focusing on abilities that reflect ancient knowledge or divination can enrich the character's depth.

Bard (Base Class) - (Level 2)

Justification: The Bard reflects China's artistic side, considering his connection to calligraphy, poetry, and storytelling. A few levels in Bard can also provide abilities related to charm and diplomacy, which align with China's nuanced interactions with other countries.

Stat Distribution and Skills

Ability Scores (after racial bonus):

Strength: 12

Dexterity: 14

Constitution: 14

Intelligence: 16

Wisdom: 18

Charisma: 14

Skill Focus:

Knowledge (History)

Diplomacy

Perform (Oratory)

Sense Motive

Survival

Feats

Combat Reflexes

Improved Inititative

Leadership (to represent China’s respect and leadership among other nations)

Equipment

Weapons: Katana (or a similar weapon)

Armor: Medium armor (representing traditional warrior attire)

Magic Items: Amulet of natural armor (to represent protection) or a scroll of divination.

Special Abilities

Keen Mind: China has an exceptional memory for facts and details, granting him an advantage on Knowledge checks.

Cultural Diplomacy: Gain bonuses on Diplomacy checks when dealing with different cultures or nations.

Personality & Roleplaying Tips:

Personality: Wise, calm, sometimes sarcastic, and can be fiercely protective over his traditions and allies. Displays a mixture of humor and seriousness depending on the context.

Interactions: More focused on negotiation and trade rather than outright conflict but will defend his allies with honor when necessary.

Russia (Inspired by Hetalia)

Race: Half-Orc (representing strength and resilience)

Size: Medium

Ability Modifiers: +2 Strength, +2 Constitution, -2 Charisma.

Bonus Feats: Half-orcs gain a bonus feat at 1st level from a list of options.

Classes:

Fighter (Level 6)

Russia is known for his intimidating presence and strength. As a Fighter, he embodies these traits, excelling in combat with a focus on strength and weapon mastery.

Key Features: Bonus feats, heavy armor proficiency, and a strong attack ability.

Sorcerer (Level 3)

Taking inspiration from the lore around Russia and his connection to cold and ice, the Sorcerer class could represent his innate magical abilities.

Bloodline: Frost (Ice-themed spells and abilities).

Key Features: Spellcasting, bloodline powers like the ability to cast spells like Ray of Frost and Ice Storm.

Bard (Level 1)

The Bard class represents his charming but sometimes sinister personality, as well as his ability to sway others with words.

Bardic Performance could potentially reflect the way Russia influences others, playing on the charm he can exert despite his more intimidating traits.

Key Features: Spellcasting, bardic performances, and social skills.

Character Summary:

Hit Points: 6 (Fighter) + 3 (Sorcerer) + 1 (Bard) = 10 + Constitution modifier from Half-Orc.

Armor Class: High due to Fighter class features, plus heavy armor proficiency.

Primary Skills: Intimidate, Diplomacy, Knowledge (Arcana), Bluff.

Spells: Focusing on ice and cold spells aligned with his character.

Combat Style: Strong frontline fighter, using a combination of magical attacks and physical prowess to overpower opponents while still maintaining some utility and flexibility through Bardic abilities.

Equipment:

Weapons: Greatsword or a similar two-handed weapon representing power and intimidation.

Armor: Heavy armor for maximum protection, appearing imposing when entering battle.

Magical Items: Items that enhance cold spells or grant spells, possibly like a Ring of Frost or a Wand of Ray of Frost.

Canada

Race: Half-Elf

Reasoning: Canada possesses some traits of elven grace and connection to nature while also representing a human side. Half-elves have a unique balance of both races, aligning well with Canada’s character.

Classes:

Ranger (3 levels)

Justification: Canada is often portrayed as a quiet, nature-loving character who enjoys the great outdoors. His ability to track and connect with wildlife fits well with the Ranger class. Additionally, he can utilize animal companions that align with Canada’s affinity for nature.

Bard (4 levels)

Justification: The Bard class reflects Canada’s softer, gentler side. Even though he might be overlooked, he has a captivating charm that can gather allies and inspire others. Bards also have the ability to support their friends, echoing how Canada often tries to mediate and keep peace among nations.

Diplomat (Prestige Class, 3 levels)

Justification: This prestige class represents Canada’s diplomatic nature and attempts to maintain peace. It enhances his ability to negotiate and influence others, which is befitting for a character that often acts as the peacemaker among the nations in "Hetalia."

Level: 10

Level Distribution:

Ranger 3

Bard 4

Diplomat 3

Abilities:

Strength: Moderate

Dexterity: High

Constitution: Moderate

Intelligence: Average

Wisdom: High (reflecting his empathetic nature)

Charisma: High (as a bard, this enhances both his charm and diplomatic skills)

Skills:

Stealth (to reflect his tendency to be overlooked)

Nature (to showcase his connection to the natural world)

Diplomacy (to represent his ability to mediate and encourage peace)

Perform (for light-hearted entertainment and social interactions)

Equipment:

Weapons: A bow (reflecting his ranger training) and a rapier (for elegance and style).

Armor: Light armor (to allow freedom of movement and stealth).

Magic Items: Items that enhance his stealth, nature abilities, or diplomatic efforts, like a Cloak of Elvenkind or an Amulet of Diplomacy.

Personality Traits:

Polite and Reserved: Always tries to be kind and avoid conflict.

Gentle Nature: Loves animals and prefers peaceful interactions over combat.

Invisible Presence: Tends to not be noticed by others, which aligns with how he is portrayed often going unnoticed in the "Hetalia" anime and manga.

When integrating Canada into your game, you can highlight his quiet resilience and ability to bring people together in non-violent ways.

[splinnters]

welcome to my blog :]

|| my carrd || my ao3 || my twitter ||

commissions: closed (open soon!)

asks & requests: open!

BYF: 

hello, I'm splinters and I'm a writer/artist/annoying tumblr user that loves like a billion different things :D

I'm a minor, I'm trans and bi, and I am slightly annoying... but I love my interests to death and I'm so willing to talk about them at any given time

Fandoms:

Arcane

TMNT

XMCU

Ninjago

Legend of Zelda

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Chronicles of Narnia

Demon Slayer

HFJOne

Gravity Falls

The Owl House

Percy Jackson

Miss Peregrine’s Home

Spirit Animals

Hunger Games

Spiderverse

AMCU

uhh… to be continued?

DNI:

nothing specific so far except any transphobes/homophobes/etc GET OUT DON'T MAKE ME TELL YOU TWICE 

also please don't hate on other people's interests in my posts or if you do that please don't follow me :] I’m trying to have a good time and so is pretty much everybody else

Boundaries:

don't request me to write/draw n$fw, comment n$fw, or mention n$fw in reference to me

please give credit to me if you write/draw something inspired by any of my works (also I'd really like to see them)

don't compare me to other artists/writers in a neg way

don't steal my work/post my work to other places without my permission

Tags:

#splintered thoughts (my random thoughts unrelated to fandoms)

#splintered art (all of my art for all fandoms)

#splintered fics (all of my fics for all fandoms)

#splintered asks (any asks I’ve responded to)

#splintered music (any posts related to playlists I make or music I listen to)

#ninjago pride month (an event I did for pride month where I did LGBTQ+ headcanons for ninjago)

[tizeline]

Your art is so cool!! Can you share you digital art process sometime?

Ask and ye shall receive:

(Also thank you!!😭)

Aight so I have A Few digital art processes due to me being inconsistent and not being able to commit to one thing (I prefer calling it ✨having a creative and curious mind✨ but eh) so my processes are subject to change, but here are my more recent methods of drawing digitally.

First of all, my art software of choice in the last couple of years has been Procreate, with some of my most commonly used brushes being these:

Spectra is my brush of choice when it comes to sketching, I really like the texture and it has a nice feel when it comes to both size and opacity based on pressure.

Next up is lineart, what brushes I use in this stage goes hand in hand with what type of colouring process I'll use. When it comes to drawings with more flat shading (such as cellshading) I'll usually use Narinder Pencil. Again, nice texture, and I like it for situations where I want thinner lines with less variety in line-thickness.

When I use a colouring and shading process that's more complex/fully rendered of whatever tf you call it, I tend to use the Niko Rull or Eaglehawk (first drawing is the Niko Rull, second is Eaglehawk)

They are also the brushes I use for the actual rendering process of this particular colouring style (yeah guess we're going into to colouring stage now)

I have no idea how to describe my actual process on how I render my drawings lmao sorry I guess?? I kinda just improvise and hope it ends up looking decent haha. As you might be able to guess though, I am HEAVILY inspired by Arcane's art style (that show Awakened something in my istg) so uhhhhh go watch other people's tutorials on how to emulate the Arcane art style or smthn I dunno.

I will say though, the rendering process and the final look of the piece ends up being slightly different depending on which brush I use.

Niko Rull is rectangular as a base shape, and it doesn't really shade that easily on it's own. Because of that it takes a while to make the shading look good (trust the process!!) but I really like the end result (textureeeeee)

Eaglehawk is easier to blend and shade with (as in it takes a shorter amount of time) which leads to the end result being more smooth

Back to the drawings that use mainly flat shading! Here I will often use Eaglehawk to add that sweet sweet texture I keep going on about, basically I will just colour the areas that are either darker and/or more saturated (for example the cheeks, nose and ears in the latter case) with what is usually a warmer tone on a layer set to multiply, then I adjust the opacity to my liking.

Then I'll just cellshade using the Medium Hard Airbrush. I like using a cooler tone like blue often (like I did here in this example) but that changes a lot depending on what I think'll fit the art piece. Draw that on a layer set to multiply and again adjust the opacity to whatever looks good.

In the final stages of the drawing process I'll just add a bunch of filters until it looks good lmao. I am Bad At Colour Theory™, even though I KNOW the theory part of it, I have such a hard time actually using it practically. Basically, making the colour palette look good is HARD so I'll just CHEAT by using layers that's filled with a colour (whatever fits) and set it to like multiply or overlay or something like that and lower the opacity a bunch and BOOM people will think I know what I'm doing. One of my favorite is covering the entire drawing with a layer filled with a light blue colour, set that layer to Difference and lower the opacity to like 5%. The effect is subtle, but I like it.

Also, MORE TEXTURE!! Static texture!! Well, in procreate it's called "Noise" but it basically adds this static like texture to your selected layer. Use it on a layer that's filled with gray, set it to overlay lower the opacity a bunch and it gives this really nice grainy feel to your art. The colour filters I tend to use on all my coloured drawings, but the noise texture I mostly use the art with flat shading.

So yeah, sketching - lineart - colour flats - shading/rendering - add a bunch of filters - finished art piece, nothing really unusual there.

And lastly, some extra things I do:

In the lineart stage, I'll colour the sketch like red or something to differentiate between the sketch and lineart more easily.

I'll also lower the opacity of the sketch layer to help avoid accidentally drawing the lines on the same layer as the sketch (iykyk)

When filling in the flats, I'll first use a deep, saturated red or blue, and when I'm done filling in a section then I'll change the colour in that area to what it's actually supposed to be. This makes it easier to notice if there's a spot you missed to fill in because it'll contrast more!

I tend to prefer lineart that isn't pure black in my illustrations. With thinner lines I'll colour them a dark brown, blue, green etc, while with thicker lines I'll do the same but also lower the opacity slightly so that the colour underneath effects the lines colour as well.

You know how some people draw everything on like 1-3 layers? Yeah I'm the opposite, ONE MILLION LAYERS BABEYYYY you can never have too many!! (actually you can there's a limit but eh)

Sometimes, when I need to come up with a pose, I'll try posing in different ways myself to get ideas. I wont take any reference pics of myself tho because yikes

That's all I can think of for now! There's quite a lot to go into when it comes to art processes and I'm not great at explaining things, so if anyone has any questions just ask! :,)

[katyahina]

Quick Caryll headcanons update!

Alright, a few months ago I've made a post where I doodled all Byrgenwerth scholars I could possibly think of, but I've decided to change my ideas a bit in the end! Basically, I turned one character into two! So here is the changed post with the full cast and quick rundown: ( x )

More detail on why the change under cut though!

Long ago, when I just gotten into Bloodborne, my first vision of the character Caryll was of a red haired man who also was an artist. Even in one of those stereotypical berets, all that. Then I learned Caryll was ungendered name, so I opened up to potential of female character instead (really love to have more of those). And it was also around that time when I figured the potential of Caryll as the inspiration for the statue with a stitch on her forehead we see just behind Memory Altar - as well as Witch of Hemwick! We find Runes Workshop tool on a tied up corpse in Hemwick that appears to have bled and surrounded by many paper sheets, that made me think of experimenting on him to find out how many runes can human brain memorize at once before it explodes. Turns out only four, and that's my justification for in lore how everyone knows to not hold more than four in mind at once.

So for a while she was one of the witches and sole person responcible for runes - both having deciphered language of Great Ones, and then having brain surgery to 'speed up' process of receiving inhuman information! That dramatically shortened her lifespan and thus Old Hunters (and Church's prospectors too) revered her as a great help for their grave robbing- errr, exploration of the Chalice Dungeons! Hence why same statues are in the dungeons too.

Later though I found out that in Japanese original, character Caryll has legitimately masculine name - Karel, variant of Charles. ( x ) I myself use japanese script a lot but it never occured to me to check kanji of names so that was... a late discovery. Now I check names and titles too and it only was useful (especially with proper name of Kos thing). That didn't sit very well with that super female figure martyr mother teresa something vibe of the statue I copied Caryll from, nor with witch idea... Yet it still made a lot of sense to connect Hemwick stuff to it.

So I was lost on what to do, and then I remembered the very old instant impression of the redhead artist man and... It finally made sense to me! So I guess I just... knew something before I KNEW it?

So yeah, now Runes are joint effort of two people! :) Caryll is an artist from Cainhurst that also drew all those portraits, and had enough archiological education and talent to figure out an alphabet of Great Ones that even others could be taught to envision their own personal runes (ie Ludwig and Adeline). He saw very big potential in it as such language is exempt of the flaws of human languages and errors in verbal communication! People could even communicate their OWN thoughts and feelings to someone else without misunderstandings or language barriers - like how League's rune allows Valtr to let others see HIS understanding of what evil is and who has it. He also was slightly biased because he was hardly eloquent at all, and only felt like he could express himself in visual art. x)

Meanwhile, the witch was more of the "inventor" person that found a way to utilize Runes and created tools and means for exchanging them very effectively between people, without any divine Insight by brain fluid needed! Possibly worked on combining runes with ancient bells to basically create Arcane version of cellphones x) By getting literal eyes in her brain, she was able to receive significant amount of information that Caryll was able to perceive and write down too! Within lore, being close to a person who is seeing a Rune could make you see it too. Since it killed the witch quick, she was honored as martyr in the workshop for her sacrifice for the progress.

I now call her Carolee, but funny enough? Runesmith is mistranslation as well, because in the original it is 'Transcriptor Karel'. So basically Caryll is, indeed, transcriptor, meanwhile Carolee is, indeed, runeSMITH. Because tools and stuff. Had it not been too hard to bounce between general english speaking fandom and people who dwell on Japanese original as much as I do, I'd just call them Caryll and Karel instead! But yeah although similar names situation happens (like Adella and Adeline), that'd just be too confusing, so I gave her just a name that is variant of Caryll (and not variant of Karel!) similar enough, to still have connection to her previous version!

SO yeah, thanks anyone who read this short story! xD It just feels right for me, besides I feel like it'd be just bad to waste that redhead artist who came to me like a muse over a translation mistake... Like, sorry guy, you can't exist because I didn't bother to check the names extra time? It is like he saught me to let him exist, and I want him to have this chance! :) Just personal creator's intuition bias, don't mind me.

[cabbojage]

The idea of clocked out is really cool! How much inspiration did you take from the movie "in time"? And what other stuff do you use for inspiration?

thank you!! also omg i've never heard of "in time" but i just searched it up and the currency system is literally just like clocked out LMAOOO i think it's so cool that there's another piece of media out there that uses the same concept but i probably won't watch the movie just because i don't wanna get too influenced :") but from the synopsis alone i can tell that the system in "in time" is slightly different from my own - for one, the time currency in my world doesn't make people live forever

most of clocked out's inspiration comes from steampunk ghibli films! a lot of it is what i'd like to say is my own imagination & fascination with retrofuturism (i am very entertained by ideas of cities in the clouds, lol). the cardinals (practitioners of time magic) in clocked out are somewhat inspired by scythes from the arc of a scythe series. and the city of klairva comes from an amalgamation of a bunch of urban inspirations, both real & fictional - a mish mash of san francisco, hong kong, nyc, guadalajara, arcane's twin cities, some los angeles neighborhoods+culture, and clockpunk concept art on pinterest ;)

[regionbetween]

with all this discussion about AI generated animation, and the idea of making an entire animated show through uh. prompt generation and an algorithm, i just want to remind us all where we came from. i am so inspired and in awe by old CGI. this was revolutionary for the time period and led us to films like tron and toy story, and then stuff like avatar years later. this is human work, human artists, using powerful and capable technology to make gorgeous art. taking their artistic and technological skills to elevate their art and make it three dimensional. we would not have any of the CGI movies, tv, and video games we love today without the hard work and incredible technology we created in the 70s. it is very disheartening to see this boom in "AI" generated art and animation- people acting as if it is this revolutionary type of tech and while it is impressive how far we've come, it's the lazy way out and it is born from plagiarism. however, it is not the technology that is evil, it is the capitalists behind it that prefer monetary gain over the ethics of stealing human artist's hard work and talent that are evil. now more than ever we need to remember our history and show appreciation for what animation was, and what it is today such as castlevania netflix, dorohedoro and other anime, arcane, and more.

this one is slightly unrelated but i think its really cool! the sketchpad demo revolutionized digital art! look at his stylus- it absolutely led is to wacom tablets and apple pencils. and this was in 1963 !!

[darethshirl]

I posted 2,122 times in 2022

That's 1,509 more posts than 2021!

68 posts created (3%)

2,054 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@noire-pandora

@potatowitch

@wildercrow

@dreadfutures

@transfenris-truther

I tagged 431 of my posts in 2022

#my writing - 42 posts

#dragon age - 39 posts

#arcane - 18 posts

#art - 18 posts

#ask meme - 16 posts

#not da - 16 posts

#solas - 16 posts

#solavellan - 13 posts

#my oc - 10 posts

#zevran arainai - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 129 characters

#and the inherent satisfaction of pushing our own parental issues to a martyred fictional character that we have full control over

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

No matter how well Solas dons his armor—literal and metaphorical both—Lyanna always finds the cracks in it.

When they embrace, the rotunda hushed around them, she rests her head on his shoulder, the scent of her hair subtle and earthy as he inhales. Her lips land on his neck, on his fluttering pulse-point, a pressure as soft as a butterfly’s kiss. The weight of that simple gesture leaves him breathless. Brings him to his knees.

When they lie in bed together, naked and entangled, she clutches at his back, digs her fingers deep into his flesh. Her gasps are pressed against his cheek, his ear, the sounds sending a line of fire down his nerves and skin and core, the entire totality of his being. She finds the vulnerable junction of his neck and shoulder and bites, hard and merciless, claiming her due. He comes undone, an earth-shattering convulsion he is helpless to stop.

When they sit by the campfire, the air filled with soft crackling and softer murmurs, she smiles at him. The curve of her mouth is sweet under the starlight, the gleam of her eyes kind. She reaches carefully between them and touches his hand, lets her fingers fall on his palm. Her grasp is loose, gentle, easy to break. Asking for nothing.

He always returns it.

69 notes - Posted January 7, 2022

#4

“My dear man,” Zevran said with badly-suppressed amusement, “it’s only a small needle.”

“That is not small.” Alistair crossed his arms protectively over his bare chest, glaring at said tool with hate and mistrust. “That’s not even in the same category as ‘small’. Look at it! It’s as long as your finger!”

“Hmm. I suppose It bodes well for me that you’re impressed by such a size.”

Alistair ignored the glint in the other man’s eyes as well as his own blush. “Look, I’m just saying, some things were never meant to be this big. Things like nasty needles that are supposed to go under your skin, over and over again!”

“Don’t you want your own tattoo?” Zevran adroitly changed the subject, his voice going playful and honey-sweet. “An impressive, intricate, awe-inspiring tattoo to showcase your virility and good taste?”

“Well… well, yes.”

“Excellent! Then come, let’s get started. You’ll barely feel a thing, I promise.”

“Oh, sure, I believe you,” Alistair said with all the sarcasm he could muster. “Not!”

A loud sigh suddenly interrupted them, coming from Morrigan’s side of the camp. “Alistair, stop acting an overgrown toddler and get this over with already!”

“Stop butting into my personal business!” Alistair yelled back. “What do even care what I do?”

“I don’t!”

“Good! Then act like it!”

“I will, once you stop bothering us all with your donkey braying!”

Alistair scoffed. “I’m not bothering anyone. Am I bothering you guys?”

“Well,” Leliana offered cheerfully, “you are being rather loud.”

“You’ve been bothering me since the day you were born,” Sten muttered darkly.

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Alistair,” Mahariel finally spoke up, and everyone fell quiet as he lifted up his eyes, his gaze serious. “You don’t have to do anything you feel uncomfortable with. You know that, right?”

Alistair deflated, feeling both warmed and slightly embarrassed by his friend’s worry. “I—I know…” Coming to a decision, he inhaled sharply and clapped his hands. “Okay. Okay, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

He kept quiet as Zevran approached. He made nary a peep as the needle touched his skin, its tip sharpened and much too cold.

He squealed at the first prickling. 

“Alright, my friend,” Zevran sighed, patting Alistair kindly on the shoulder. “We’ll work up to it.”

93 notes - Posted April 7, 2022

#3

“My liege.” Zevran gave an exaggerated, theatrical bow, bending so low that a strand of his hair touched the floor. “Your humble servant greets you.”

“Alright,” Alistair laughed nervously. His crown—already the simplest design he could get away with without inciting a rebellion among the nobility—suddenly felt heavy. “Ha, alright, yes, you’ve had your fun. Now stop making things weird.”

Zevran’s laugh sounded a million times more natural that Alistair’s pitiful attempt, not that this was particularly hard to achieve. His eyes glittered as he rose from his bow, his smile roguish. “Weird? My dear friend, I’m simply treating you with the respect you deserve. You’re a king now! A changed man.”

“No, no, definitely not changed—I mean—I mean, it’s only been a few months! People don’t just change after a few months!” A sense of doubt started to spread sinister tendrils in his mind. “...Right?”

“Some things definitely do,” Zevran said with overstated authority, then pointed a dramatically accusing finger. “Like this!”

“Like what?” Alistair glanced down in pure confusion. “My chest?”

“Your shirt. You’re wearing silk. Embroidered silk at that. My dear Alistair,” Zevran chuckled, trying valiantly to keep a straight face, “you have a fashion sense now.”

“Oh! Well…” Alistair thought about mentioning that this was simply the first shirt he picked out, blindly, from his fully-stocked closet this the morning, then decided against it. “Yeah, I guess it’s nice. Feels better than sweat-soaked armor, that’s for sure.” He snorted, and wasn’t even that sarcastic when he added, “Lots of creature comforts like that, when you become a king. Perks of the job.”

Zevran hummed absentmindedly, then walked up to Alistair and slung a casual arm over his shoulders. “I miss this, you know. You, babbling incoherently. Me, dazzling everyone with my presence.” He sighed expansively, looking around at the palace gardens as if to enjoy the view—which was hard to imagine, considering it was late autumn and all the trees were dead. “The road just isn’t the same without you.”

“Yeah,” Alistair said quietly. There was a lump in his throat all of a sudden, a twinge in his chest. “Yeah.”

Zevran’s gaze turned kind. He gripped Alistair’s shoulder, a subtle but much-appreciated show of camaraderie. “And how are you doing? Truly.”

“I’m… okay.” Alistair took a fortifying breath, then squared his shoulders. “Truly. It’s an adjustment, sure, but… I’m learning. And I am making a difference,” he said, the confidence rising in his voice. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Zevran gave Alistair’s shoulder one last squeeze, the clapped his hands. “Well! Enough catching up. Now, what kind of entertainment do you have in store for your esteemed guest? And I’m warning you, I’m expecting the royal treatment.”

“I’m gonna regret inviting you, aren’t I?” Alistair sighed, but he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone. He smile was there for everyone to see, as bright as the sun.

113 notes - Posted May 5, 2022

#2

everytime I see a Solas hater be a weeny pissy baby over him being such a big part of the next game my petty lil grinch heart grows three sizes

123 notes - Posted December 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

For a single, heart-stopping second, Zevran thinks it’s his mother’s gloves he’s being offered.

It makes no sense, of course. Separated both by distance and immeasurable time, those well-loved relics are far gone from his reach, their soft touch only a memory in his heart. Still, these disappointingly new and clearly well-made gloves feel familiar in his hands, the brown leather crackling as he grips them tight.

Opposite him Mahariel sits quiet and solemn, his body limned by firelight. He stares at Zevran, expectant but not demanding, his dark eyes gleaming.

The glib words that usually come so effortlessly to Zevran now fail him. He swallows past a lump in his throat he refuses to acknowledge. “Thank you,” he says. His voice almost wavers.

Mahariel’s serious visage cracks into a smile, beautiful and warm, all the more precious for its rarity. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Such a simple line, such simple words. Zevran can only nod, and hold his own too-powerful, too-damning emotions back.

193 notes - Posted February 18, 2022

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