#as arcane gave me the motivation to write this

[mythicalmagical-monkeyman]

I once said you can never have a fav if you’re in the Lego Dreamzzz fandom because all the others get neglected... THAT BEING SAID- *slaps down Cooper hurt/comfort* @fruity-legos & @murkystarlight if you wanna come see. Under the cut as always 

Summary: 

Cooper’s friends have a habit of getting themselves into trouble good thing he’s there to keep them out of it, though often times it’s at the expense of himself But he loves them just a bit too much care about that last bit  -or- Me: *explaining how ex Cooper’s lightning works* My friend: “ooo more protective Cooper with him ignoring his limits to try and protect his friends? With bonus hurt/comfort” Me: … alright bet.

Additional Tags: 

Minor Cooper/Mateo Garcia. Implied Astrid/Logan Chan. Hurt/Comfort. Semi-Canon to my au. Character Study, Kind Of. Angst with a Happy Ending. attempted possession. Cooper has many issues but most of them are implied. Badass Cooper Williams. Cyborg Cooper. OOC for canon Cooper, i think. Protective Cooper. Cooper centric, Yes i have a fav, clearly. All the kids have been enhanced by the dream world in some way, hence fast boy Coop, also please imagine the fight scene as anime as possible, As that’s how it was written. no beta we die like terry. Implied Lore. Platonic Love.

Note:

My villain oc: Genderfluid dreamling ghost who goes by the name Ecko, obsessed with finding a way to leave the dream world and doesn’t care who they have to go through to get it. He can turn invisible and possess people

___

Long story short, maybe Cooper was an idiot… which was ironic considering the fact that he had almost all A’s and B’s in his classes.

But yeah ok, put him in a situation where his friends had been their regular loveable selves and had gotten themselves in to deep shit, they were just like that he honest to god could not control their actions don’t look at him like that, he usually found himself tossing all logic out the window.

Logic and, very dumbly, self preservation.

If you put his friends' lives on the line, threatened them in any way, he suddenly became very uninterested in his own chances for survival. He was self aware enough to note how odd that was; how a “rational and studies driven”, or even anxiety ridden and unrisk taking, guy like himself would throw that all away at the idea that he might lose Astrid.

Or Oz or Albert.

Nova.

Izzie.

Logan.

Zoey.

Mateo-

Could you blame him though? They were the only thing he had. The only good thing he had, them and the Dream World tied together in a neat little package that you could say he was a little territorial about. They probably didn’t even know it but if it hadn’t been for them, simply them being there and being the only good and light part of his day, he didn’t know if he would have made it through freshman year-

He hadn’t tried to show it but losing his memories and the Night of the Red Moon had done a number on him.  

So… so maybe he felt deep down he owed it to them but fully he knew it was because he loved them. He loved them in a way that he just couldn’t feel himself extending towards his family.

…Except maybe his cousin but that was a different conversion entirely.

They had been there for him, they’d listened to him being weird, and after years and years of hanging out with them there were just so many things Cooper felt himself cherishing about each of them.

Most of all though they liked him for him and not… whatever his parents wanted of him.

So yes! Maybe he was an idiot but at least he had sure grounds for said idiocracy. He had his own idiots to defend and take care of!

Though, uh, maybe he should’ve known when to quit as he was feeling pretty drained.

Downside to having lightning powers he supposed, it liked to use him as a battery. It drained him more and more the more he used it; because APPARENTLY it drew on his own energy to function. Which was bullshit in his opinion.      

Feeling as drained as he was however sucked based on the sole fact that he was currently stranded, barely being kept on his knees as he leaned against his tech bo staff, up on the roof of a Dreamling Village Library. The library was also on fire. The building was starting to burn and come apart below him all while a stone statue of a knight, stalky as fuck and some seven feet tall, pulled itself together across the roof from him.

Fuck.

Down below Cooper knew Zoey and Astrid were fighting off three more of these statues while Logan and Mateo tried in vain to put out the fire and Izzie was running around with Bunchu to help the dreamlings get to safety.

The statues had been brought to life by one of their recurring villains, the dream ghost Ecko, who had used some ancient Dream Keeper artifact to do so. To keep the statues from reforming and, well, killing anyone, he had to get that artifact and destroy it. Only one problem, the artifact was currently in Ecko’s possession who was very much invisible somewhere up on the roof at the moment after Cooper had chased them up here.

… someone really should’ve gotten him a shirt that read “#1 biggest idiot of the year”.

But alright, alright ghosts. Ghosts .

Well he doubted going all Ghostbusters up on their ass would work.

There was a thud from the statue… It looked like a Terry, he was going to call it Terry, as Terry’s foot hit the roof and signaled to Cooper that it had fully reformed.

Alright fun! He had to destroy this thing again, track down Ecko, and then probably fight them so he could destroy the artifact all while feeling like he had been hit by a car.

This was fine.  

There was another thud as Terry started to advance, slowly though its pure stone sword was held at the ready.

This is what he got for dating Z-God’s favorite, geeze he needed to sue them honestly.

With a groan that almost developed into a gag he struggled to his feet before giving his tech bo a small twirl and setting it into a position where it waited at the ready up by his arm.

He was feeling pretty weak, he couldn’t lie, but while Ecko still held that artifact they were a threat to his friends so his growing want to pass out could wait.

“Hola big guy,” Cooper singsonged, his face twitching slightly, “Know where our ghost buddy went?”

Terry simply took another few steps forward. Trying to banter with statues was awful, goddamn they simply had no taste!

“What? Got a sore throat or something?” Cooper asked innocently, scanning the air next to Terry for any sign of Ecko, a shimmer within the rising smoke, anything really!

“Do you want me to make you some Chamomile tea?” Cooper wiggled his free hand in front of himself as if he was showing off an invisible tea cup, straining his ears to maybe try and hear a laugh come from Ecko only to hear nothing out of the ordinary.

Hopefully Ecko hadn’t left yet.  

Cooper grit his teeth, “Wowie, tough crowd! They wouldn’t pull this shit with John Mulaney.”

Still nothing, and now he was ten steps closer to his doom.

Ah well, he had tried.

Cooper braced himself, glancing down at his hourglass. Low but not empty.

A split second decision lead him to shrink down his tech bo and stick it back in it’s holster to help preserve whatever energy he had left, it half ran on his lightning believe it or not, before he used most of the sand left in his hourglass to dream craft up two hand held paint guns. Gold and purple in color and looking decently sci-fi in nature one wouldn’t believe that they were just simple paint guns, but that’s all they were.

Click.

And there went the safety.

Terry was within striking range now, their sword raised.

Cooper cocked his guns in turn, “Bring it stone-buster!”  

A low growl noise reverberated from Terry followed by a second sound that reminded Cooper of two stones being scraped against each other as Terry hoisted their sword up and backwards.

The statue swung their sword in a wide arc, and Cooper swore he felt the world slow down, the electricity in his cybernetic arm humming excitedly. It wanted violence and Cooper was feeling more than happy to oblige.

The cyborg teen held himself steady, watching the sword slice through the air towards him much slower than it should have been as Cooper’s brain simply comprehended the events slightly faster than they were actually happening.

As the sword neared his shoulder he finally reacted, holstering one of the guns and planting his hand on top, flat part of the blade before pushing himself up. His feet hit the blade and he zipped up the length of it as he pulled his second free again at speeds that were far from normal for a human being.

Once he hit the end of the blade, where the hilt began, the teen threw himself into a side roll over Terry’s shoulder, twisting and swinging his right arm up as he became airborne.

Cooper took aim with his gun and fired.

Pop. Splat!

A wad of pink paint smacked Terry right in the back of their head.

Damage? Next to zero, but that was all a part of the show.

Cooper landed with a thud and skid backwards a few feet in a crouched position, his thighs screaming. Time sped back up as he came to a stop.

Was it all a little absurd? Oh yeah totally, but he was pretty glad his added ability was speed. Made pulling off stunts like that much easier.

Terry stumbled a little as the paint wad to the back of the head threw off their balance a little causing their sword to finish its arc albeit not as smoothly. The statue then seemed to pause for a moment as if wondering where Cooper had gone before they finally began to turn back around.

Cooper stood back up as Terry did so, tapping the tip of one of his guns against his chin. Casually he tried to blow one of the tufts of his hair out of his face only for it to fall back into place.

He really needed to get a haircut.

Terry seemingly squinted at him as they came face to face again but Cooper just grinned back.

“Aww come on Terry pink looks good on you!”

He wasn’t sure why he was trying to use his usual tactic of ‘piss off the villain by acting like he was entirely unfazed by them and whatever crazy bad guy shit they were pulling’ when his opponent literally had no emotions whatsoever and was made of rock but here he was anyway.

Old habits died hard he supposed.

The teen braced himself, ignoring how his body was starting to feel sluggish, and took aim with his guns again as Terry began to move. Time to make or break this fight.

Rapid fire pops! sounded off as he fired in twin, calculated arcs. Sure, to an outside point of view he probably looked like a drunk man, firing in all directions like he couldn’t even hit his target properly, but that was the thing… he couldn’t see his target.  

Terry kept on their one path trajectory however, towards him, and Cooper could only be glad his speed helped him fire off his guns as many times as he could. Many paint wads simply ended up hitting the roof, splattering pink, blue, green, purple, red, and yellow everywhere. Terry themselves got hit just as many times, a nice and colorful display getting splayed across their form even though it did nothing to falter them.

Yet one wad of color stood out. A green paint ball had hit Ecko, invisible as they were, and for maybe a second Cooper had seen the green paint splatter floating there before most of it had been wiped away. Luckily he could still see a faint green smudge if he looked close enough, but that was good enough for him. It was confirmation they were still on the roof!

Had the fire scared them into staying?

He couldn’t dwell on that.

Cooper shook his head, noting how in his effort to land a hit on Ecko, Terry had gotten to the point where they were basically on top of Cooper, one paint covered sword held up and pointed down to drop right onto Cooper’s head to crush him.  

Ah, bollocks.

With a yelp Cooper ducked down and darted between Terry’s legs as the statue brought its sword down only to pivot once he was on the other side of them. He eyed their back before sheathing his guns and jumping up.

The stiff angle of their body left almost no traction for Cooper’s feet to use to push off of but thanks to Terry’s weird belt… thing, that a part of his shoe was able to catch on, he was able to push himself up even higher and land with his legs around the statue’s neck.

Cooper raised his fully cybernetic arm before smashing it down and right through the statue's head, shattering it to rubble.

A thunk went up as Terry’s sword struck the roof and as the blade sunk in it broke violently causing the roof below them to started to crumble.

Cooper unhooked his legs from around Terry’s neck and jumped up to stand on their shoulders so he could push off and try to throw himself to safety as the roof caved under them.

Pain shook through him as he collided with the roof only for it to start to crumble beneath him as Terry fell violently to the depths of the library below with a loud crash.

Cooper scrambled at the roof, it was hot, and basically crumbling at his touch, and with the lower half of his body practically dangling over the edge it was tough to keep himself aloft. He choked on smoke, feeling the edge of the crumbled roof digging into his stomach, but thankfully his hands found a half broken and burnt wooden beam sturdy enough to clutch too. With a huff he pushed on the beam and pulled himself up onto the roof.

The teen rolled over, before forcing himself to sit up and back as far away as he could from the fresh new hole in the roof.

Following a violent wheeze, coughing shook Cooper which he hid in the crook of his arm.

The fire was getting worse, he had to end this as soon as he could.

“Your little sacrificial lamb is gone now Ecko!” Cooper shouted, getting to his feet despite the shaky feeling that was coursing through his bones, “So let's finish this face to face!”

Cooper scanned the roof, looking for the ever elusive floating green smudge only to feel a sense of dread wash over him as he felt a shadow on his back.

Slowly he turned and gulped as he saw the green smudge hovering there in the air. The air then rippled and Ecko’s invisibility faded away so they could reveal himself; in their left hand they held tightly the necklace with a diamond shaped orange gem hanging from it.

Ecko was definitely not someone you’d expect to actually be a dreamling in nature as they looked just a bit too human. Not only did she look human, with the same number of limbs, short grey hair, and everything, but he also dressed the part; wearing baggy striped pants, black curly toed elf shoes, and a leather jacket underneath a short blue shawl. But then you started to look closer and you just got hit with a wave of uncanny valley. Yes they looked human but they were a goldish grey and you could see bones being held under what Ecko would probably consider skin, not to mention their eyes were sunk a little bit back into her head.

Other dreamlings Cooper knew were very clearly dreamlings; walking mushroom people, giant flying manticores, an anthropomorphic bird person but Ecko looked human enough that Cooper was sure that by some weird standard regular people could even come to find the ghost handsome.

Ecko stared, the dark green of their eyes seemingly screaming envy only for them to scoff and begin to swing the necklace in their hand.

The orange jewel of the necklace started to glow intensely, and Cooper stuck his hand up in front of his face to protect his eyes from the harsh light.

There was a cacophony of sounds like sticks snapping and stones grinding against each other before a thump Eckoed out from behind Cooper and he groaned angrily as he realized what had just happened.

He turned again, and found Terry, or really Terry 2.0… 5.0(?) standing back on the roof a few feet away from him, though their sword wasn’t with them.                  

Cooper turned back to Ecko for a split second and gestured, “THAT’S CHEATING!”

“It’s not cheating.” Ecko responded back coldly as she brushed past Cooper, “It’s called reanimation.”

Cooper didn’t even have time to bite back a retort before Terry 2.0 snatched him up, damn his bewilderment fucking with his reaction time, and brought him up to dangle in the air by his neck.

Terry 2.0 didn’t squeeze, no not yet, but Cooper still felt himself beginning to choke. He was going to die if Ecko had their way.

Surprisingly he was kind of ok with the idea, but Ecko still had the artifact, they were still a threat.

He couldn’t give up now!

His friends…  

But he still had to get out of this shitty situation first.  

Cooper caught Ecko walking away out of the corner of his vision, back turned to himself and their statue.

An idea began to spawn and so he pulled his second to last card; the bullshit card.

“What?” Cooper choked out, “Not going to gloat?”

Ecko paused momentarily before continuing on.  

“Come on!”  Cooper yelled out in minor desperation, more focused on Ecko then grabbing one of his weapons, “Other villains would love to be in your situation right now! My death on your hands!? Doing something that not even The Insomniac could accomplish? Twice! Your reputation would skyrocket!”

He wasn’t wrong, he knew the type of reputation he held amongst the villains. The dreamlings.

He was a horribly persistent threat.

Who wouldn’t love to kill him?  

Ecko turned slightly, just their head to shoot back calmly, “Your friends would hunt me down to the ends of the dream world. They wouldn’t rest until your death had been avenged.”

Cooper could feel his throat closing up and his vision going black fast. He didn't have much time, “What’s a f-few enemies in the face of things you-you could gain? You could get anything you w-want!” he choked out.

Ecko fully stopped at that.

A few seconds past and Cooper could feel himself going limp so he began to reach a hand back-

“… release him.” Ecko ordered.

Terry 2.0 dropped Cooper back down to the roof where the teen crumpled as he hurriedly began to reclaim air, smokey as it was.

Cooper quickly found himself being picked back up, this time by the back of the shirt so Ecko could turn him around, grab him by the shirt collar and stare him down.

The teen forced himself to grin back.  

“And what makes you think I want something?” Ecko bit out, their breath ice cold on Cooper’s face.

“I can see it written all over your face-“ Cooper hummed. Anytime he had managed to look Ecko in the eyes he could see it, the slight desperation, the want to get out . Ecko was fueled by it and it was scrawled in every one of their expressions.  

Ecko bit their lip before turning away with snarl and dropping Cooper back down to his knees. She walked off, back turned as she gestured at Terry 2.0 to continue but this time Cooper was ready.

Cooper lurched off his feet into a mad dash as Terry 2.0 went to grab him, noting how Ecko had turned invisible again. He arched around at his godforsaken speed so he could look for the green smudge before happily finding it and rushing Ecko.

Football tackle style Cooper collided with Ecko, knocking them both down to the roof as the lightning wiggling around in Cooper’s arm buzzed loudly.

Ecko growled as Cooper landed on top of them and then in an emotional driven flurry, the teen found himself reaching out blindly for whatever he could find of Ecko. He gripped at what he assumed was Ecko’s shawl and forced them closer to him, raising his cybernetic arm above his head where he summoned up sparks of red electricity for show.

There was a panicked breath and Cooper suddenly felt a palm smack into his chin followed by a pulse of what he could only assume was magic.

The world around him faded away; Terry 2.0, the Library roof, and the dream world around him as he felt himself being yanked backwards.

In the blink of an eye Cooper found himself standing in a nearly pitch black room; a void which caused his breath to be caught in his throat as fear began to prick at his spine.

Wait a minute…

His fear cooled lightly as he realized he recognized the place.

It wasn’t a void, no, there were red sketch looking lines floating and wriggling around like live snakes as they came together in streams to make the vague out lines of a floor, walls, and what seemed to be a tree. In the distance, past the tree he saw grey sketch lines making up what seemed to be a pond where occasionally more bendy shaped grey sketch lines would poke out off the “water”. He also knew it wasn’t a void because in no way whatsoever was this place quiet. The void was quiet… this place screamed . The very essence of the place was making noise, the whole thing buzzing and was being filled with the sound of overlapping voices. Words, full sentences, it didn’t matter this place just wanted to talk and it didn’t care what it said;

Ford was founded on June 16, 1903.

The chemical formula for sugar is-

V O I D

My arm hurts

Some only live to die, I'm alive to fly higher-

What should we get Logan for his birthday?

Mateo still has our hoodie.

Hey Terry 2.0 is still out there

Fuuuccckk.

Is dry rice edible?

Paint gunsssss

I smell smoke-

Lamborghini used to manufacture tractors!

This wasn’t a void… this was his head.

Ecko had brought the two of them here in an attempt to possess him…

It had worked.  

Cooper glanced around, already beginning to tune out all the noise as he took it all in only to find Ecko curled up on the ground some distance away from him at the shore of the pond.

Hmm-

Without giving it much thought he walked closer and found Ecko clutching the sides of his head as he shook violently.  

“It’s-“ Ecko stuttered, “It’s so loud!” A small sob came from Ecko as she curled even further into themselves though it seemed any attempt they tried to block out the noise didn’t work.

Cooper tilted his head to the side and watched Ecko for a moment as small whispers started to make their way into his ears coming from the pond.

‘Ah, so that is what I think it is.’

This was going surprisingly well for him.

The teen bent over and grabbed Ecko by the ankle as the whispers from the pond grew stronger. With a harsh yank Cooper pulled the ghost back which caused her to flip herself over in a panic  

“LET ME GO!” Ecko yelled, his breath hitching.

Cooper squinted, crouching at their feet, “Let… you go? You put us in here buddy and now it’s just you… and me…” the teen trailed off as his eyes drifted behind Ecko to the pond where he could see the water rising and bubbling, “and the demons.”

Ecko’s eyes widened in fear, “The demons!?”  she screeched as the pond erupted, turning into a million little black hands that reached out to begin to grab at Ecko while voices began to come from the pond as well.

Only these ones were much more painful.

You are nothing !

Loser!

Get better!

Frankly, I don't trust you.

I thought you were smarter than this-

I’m just like them!

Doesn’t it feel like I’m replacing you?

Worthless

How could you forget

Don’t raise your voice at me!

Stop asking questions

Did you finish your homework Cooper?

Don’t let us down son .

I’m … useless.

…

No.

No he wasn’t.

Ecko let out a scream as the full weight of all the voices washed over them and the little pond hands began to grab at her, pulling him back into the pond like they wanted to drown them. Ecko fought against the pond of course, trying in vain to pull their limbs free but the more they fought the more the hands fought back.  

Cooper simply sat back and watched, letting the pond hands grab and pull at him too, as the thin smile he had been keeping on his face vanished.

“NOO-” Ecko screamed, “LET GO! STOP TALKING! SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!”

“You did this,” Cooper responded calmly as Ecko struggled with the pond hands, “You free us.”

The pond hands had almost pulled Ecko halfway in at that point and Cooper could feel himself fully starting to get dragged in now too but then Ecko let out a muffled and frustrated scream.

There was a flash of bright light and Cooper’s mindscape vanished around them only to be replaced by the all too familiar rooftop.

Ecko sat inches away from him, sitting back and no longer invisible as she stared up at him in horror.

“YOU-YOU-” Ecko stuttered, panic still very evident in her voice as they began to hyperventilate and struggle to push himself away from Cooper.

Cooper winced, reaching up to clutch his face to calm his racing thoughts, both the good and the bad .

A startled laugh rippled through him as he started pulling at his hair, oh he thought he’d buried some of those.

Guess not.

Very slowly Cooper came back to himself. Breath, just breath and his own breath began easing out in echo of Ecko’s as they scramble back in a blurry minded struggle to put as much distance between himself and Cooper. They didn’t get very far.    

In the distance Cooper suddenly heard a scream cut through the air that drew him fully back to the present.

Astrid!

His friends-

His eyes darted to Ecko’s hand where the artifact was still tied around their hand while at the same time he heard the familiar stone grinding noise of Terry 2.0 draw near.

Oh yeah.

Cooper reached a hand back deciding that honestly he had no other choice and pulled his tech bo from its holster.      

“Hey E-Ecko,” Cooper struggled out.

“What?” Ecko hissed.

“What do you call a fried ghost?”

“ What? “ Ecko asked in disbelief as Cooper sensed Terry 2.0 right above him.

With a clunck he pressed the button on his tech bo to grow it to full size before violently smashed the end of it onto the roof.

“Hot air-” Cooper answered. Ecko’s eyes widened and all at once Cooper sent all the emotions he could summon along with whatever energy he had left into his tech bo.

His pain, anger, love. He willed all of it to the surface and his lightning responded in likes cackling happily at finally being able to be released before colliding with the amplifier deep within his staff.

“YOU’LL BRING THIS ROOF DOWN ON BOTH US-” Ecko howled but it was far too late.

Cooper chuckled dryly only to scream in pain as he felt his lightning run its course, it tore through his tech bo and Cooper himself before spitting itself out angrily in large arcs that flared upward and cut through Terry 2.0 like paper. The lightning also made its way downward, slicing through the roof under Ecko and Cooper and causing it to collapse under them.

“COOPER-”

Logan?

Why…  Cooper honestly could feel his ability to string two coherent thoughts together start to go as most of his common sense was turning to mush at expending all the remains of his energy.

With their own scream Ecko fell with the collapsing roof, Cooper, and the remains of Terry 2.0 down to the burning library below.

Cooper suddenly found himself weightless, why was he weightless?

Oh.

Right.

He was falling.

Falling … what a thing to get used to, but before he could even begin to wonder if he’d hit the ground his vision faded to black.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The voices came back long before his energy to open his eyes did. Hushed voices talking amongst themselves casually.

Cooper was kind of glad they weren’t his thoughts but actual human voices.

Next to return, and he was thankful for this too, was touch! He could feel full consciousness returning to his body along with his ability to feel some things. Someone was holding his left arm in their lap, rubbing their fingers absentmindedly up his forearm while his head rested on something soft, someone else's lap if he had to guess, their own arm draped over his shoulder and part of his chest. That same person’s other hand was resting gently in his hair so they could massage softly at his scalp.  

Dream world sunlight… ? Well the dream world didn’t have a sun so he had no idea where the source of the light was coming from but whatever type of light it was hit his face and body, warming him and making it feel like he was tucked under a blanket.  

This was nice, he felt warm. Happy. Protected.

As much as he would have loved to keep enjoying the bliss however he realized he should probably let his friends know he was ok.

Groggily he managed to crack open one eye and then the other, finding Mateo above him as the person that had his head in their lap. 

A pounding in the back of his head quickly cemented itself into reality and he let out a low groan which drew Mateo’s attention downward where they locked eyes for a split second. Something then tickled at the back of Cooper’s throat and he rolled over, turning towards the person holding his hand as a coughing fit wracked through his body.

Damn smoke.

Someone sighed and in an instant Cooper felt Mateo rubbing at his back until the coughing died off.  

“Yeah, you did inhaled a lot of smoke.” Astrid hummed from somewhere close by, speaking her thoughts aloud.  

“Heyyyy!” Logan cheered off to his right, “He lives!”

“He lives!” Izzie echoed happily.  

With a final pitiful cough and a groan Cooper rolled himself back over and went back to resting his head in Mateo’s lap, “Ughhhh, my head-“

A soft laugh came from Mateo and he looked down at him fondly, he must have been happy Cooper was alive.

Cooper returned the smile before reaching up with his free hand, biting back against the throbbing pain that flared up in his shoulder, and brushing his fingers against Mateo’s dreads. Light teasing popped up in the background and after a second of toying with the ends of Mateo’s hair he let his arm drop back down. He then struggled a little to sit up but with a little help from Mateo eventually managed to get up into a seated position where he took his friends in.

Izzie had been the one holding his other hand, letting go of it when he had gotten up but she sat leaned up against Zoey’s side who was twirling one of her arrows like one might twirl a drumstick. On his other side sat Logan and Astrid. Logan’s face was ashy from the fire but his face was half squished in Astrid’s lap as she pat his head, Logan’s hat on her head. Cooper’s tech bo also sat next to Logan though it was looking a bit worse for wear.

Across a small path opposite the grass patch the dream chaser rested on Cooper caught the burnt remains of the library where a number of dreamlings were salvaging what they could from inside. Nearby Z-Blob and Pyewacket were playing what seemed to be playing tag.  

Cooper rubbed at his face, “What hap-happened?” he asked.  

Logan pulled his face out of Astrid’s lap and massaged at his shoulder as he explained, “Well after that little stunt you pulled there I used my good ol’ shapeshifting to save you from the fall. And then we put out the fire.”

“And now here we are!” Izzie added,  

“Ah, nice.” Cooper found himself saying only for a brief silence to pass over the teens as Cooper’s friends all looked at each other. Said silence was quickly broken.    

“What were you thinking!?” Astrid demanded. 

“You could have died!” Izzie screeched.

Logan smacked his hands against each other, back to palm, “Bro I can not believe you tried to take Ecko alone!”

Cooper cringed into himself, his response tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop it, “I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be,” Mateo insisted, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling Cooper back a bit, “you were just trying to protect us.”

Zoey sat up a bit, resting her arms on her knees as she pulled them up. She looked Cooper in the eyes, the arrow being twirled by her fingers coming to a harsh halt as she gripped it, “But you didn’t have to risk your own neck like that, we're a team. You can rely on us to back you.”

Logan scoffed but there was no hate behind it, “Rich coming from “Miss Lone Wolf”,” he said, making use of a pair of finger quotations.

“I’m simply speaking from experience.” Zoey shot back, her eyes slicing over to Logan for a brief moment.  

Cooper glanced down, holding his hands out to look at them where they greeted him by glinting slightly in the light. His cybernetics; the metal appendages that were a testament to the shit he had been through, all the times he’d been forced to do things alone.

They showed he had damage, that he had cracks… but they also showed the damage he could do, that even if you broke him he’d bounce back eventually and Cooper honestly wasn’t sure what to think about that. His cybernetics had always confounded him.

Izzie placed a hand on his knee and patted it, causing him to look up where she met him with a bright smile.

But in the end his cybernetics were a part of him, along with his lightning, for better or for worse, and whether he hated it or not.    

He smiled back, “I-I guess I’m just so used to being forced to face villains alone I didn’t… think about it. I just did.”

His friends watched him curiously, Logan and Zoey sending each other a telling yet concerned look.

“But Zoey’s right, you have us.” Mateo muttered, resting his head on Cooper’s shoulder lightly, “People who care, people who can help you. You don’t have to do things alone. None of us do.” 

At that Izzie began to hum, a distantly familiar tune that took Cooper a few seconds to realize was the My Little Pony theme song. Logan snickered.

Mateo let go of Cooper and slid forward a bit to kick Izzie in the ankle which she responded to by kicking him back and humming louder.

Cooper shook his head a little mystified, catching Zoey roll her eyes out of the corner of his eye.

Even after a decade of hanging out with the Garcia siblings he still couldn’t wrap his head around understanding some of their behavior. 

“Where did Ecko go?” Cooper asked, tearing his attention away from the sibling as they entered into a staring contest that Logan seemed to quickly get invested in.

Astrid shrugged, “Gone. We looked for them after but they disappeared. We couldn’t find their body.”

Cooper’s heart dropped a little, “And the artifact?”

“Destroyed, crushed by the fall or shattered by your lightning. We’re not sure which.” Astrid answered.

“Oh.”

At least he had succeeded in that.

“You saved us, by the way.” Astrid added, smiling a little.  

“Ah, just being a pal, you know.” Cooper responded sheepishly, ducking his head down a little.  

“Accept the compliment-”

Cooper blinked, a little caught off guard by Astrid’s bluntness, “O-ok, you’re welcome?”

Astrid grinned happily, glad Cooper had given in and somewhat excepted her compliment… could that even be considered a compliment?  

Zoey snorted at that. Cooper glanced over at her and frowned but she only responded by smiling smugly at him.  

Mateo hummed and wrapped his arms around Cooper’s arm, apparently done with his staring contest as Izzie let out a victorious “WHOOP!” before getting up to run around and celebrate with Logan.

The remaining dream chasers watched them amused.    

Quietly Cooper heard Mateo tell him, “Don’t worry about Ecko, they’ll show back up and when they do we’ll take care of them. Together.”

Cooper looked down at him, noting now Mateo was hiding his face in Cooper’s sleeve and so the cyborg teen pressed a kiss to Mateo’s head before muttering back, “And you should relax, I’m not gonna leave especially if I have anything to say about it.”

Mateo’s grip loosen a little at that.

“GROSS!” Izzie yelled suddenly and Cooper jumped a little only to tilt his head to look up at her and Logan.  

Logan made a face, “For real, chill with the PDA, ya nerds.”

Cooper glanced at Astrid and then back to Logan, “Wha-“

“You two should tackle them for displaying such atrocities,” Zoey mentioned off-handedly as she turned her attention back to twirling her arrow.

Logan and Izzie gave each other twin gremlin looks as Cooper could only give Zoey a betrayed look before Mateo screamed out a “DON’T YOU DARE!” and the two of them found themselves being crushed under two other bodies.

The four of them crashed to the ground in a heap as Mateo screeched, “LOGAN! IZZIE-“  

Astrid just laughed and Cooper couldn’t help but join her, followed by Izzie, and then Logan.

Sure they were crushed and they were all sore but the relief and happiness was much stronger.

There was a small wheeze from Mateo as Izzie began to tickle him, and very awkwardly Cooper tried to wrap himself around him in a half assed attempt to protect him though he could help finding his boyfriends small undignified screams adorable.

Yeah… stuff like this was exactly why he loved his friends.    

Slowly Cooper felt himself go limp under Logan, who shook him a little, as the tackle turned more into a really strange dog pile. His energy was utterly spent but he once again felt warm, protected, and so he curled himself into Mateo’s side as he finally let himself rest fully.  

[lullabyes22-blog]

hi <3

i am once again asking your thoughts on the latest act of arcane?

Honestly, my feelings on S2 so far are pretty mixed.

:')

On the one hand, visually, it's absolutely heartstopping. The cinematography is incredible, and it's the first time in a while where every episode felt like an experience I had to endure in a good way. Plus the score, the voice-acting, and the sound design is, as usual, top notch.

Buuuut when you have all these stellar spheres working on this show, it makes the areas where they drop the ball stand out.

For me, that's the plot.

Alot of folks have criticized the pacing and how there's too much piled into one season. Personally, at this point I've made peace with the breakneck speed and sort of taken it as a given in a series where 'War' is the overarching theme. I can even let go of the fact that certain plot beats don't feel earned, as there's so much subtlety and foreshadowing that you can easily make the case for them via long-drawn out analyses of every frame.

But the writing, ohhhh boy. The writing. It feels like there's a disconnect between the overall plot and the individual character moments.

It's really hard to articulate, but I'll do my best.

I love that we're getting so much characterization for the main cast. Every episode, it feels like there's a new layer peeled back, and each of our leads has an opportunity to shine.

And that's exactly the problem. They're all shining.

Separately.

When I think about it, the reason why S1 worked so well was because every episode gave us a glimpse into the mind of someone different. We got a taste of what it was like to be in the head of every major player in the cast, and through this, we grew to understand their motivations, their fears, their hopes. I've used the 'gem' analogy in previous reviews, and the way the show handled that concept was amazing. Every character was a facet of the gem that was Arcane, and each shift of PoV allowed us to see them from a new angle.

There was coherence. There was cohesion. And there was a sense of complexity told in a concise and well-planned format.

S2, for me, doesn't quite work the same way.

It's not that I don't understand the characters, or that I don't appreciate the way they're handled. It's just that their individual journeys are so self-contained. I'm not getting a sense of their interpersonal connections. More as if they're crashing into and out of each other's lives, without ever stopping to have a proper conversation.

It's a common complaint with ensemble casts, and I don't mind it for the most part, but the problem here is that Arcane has been very careful about establishing its characters as part of a cohesive whole. They're not just random individuals who happen to share a stage. They're siblings, lovers, colleagues, friends, enemies, etc. And the reason why we can relate to them is because, on some level, they mirror our own relationships. We've seen how they treat each other, and we've come to care about them.

But in this season, I feel like there's been a failure to communicate.

Scenes between characters feel like a series of disconnected vignettes, some of which are great and some of which are not so great. It's as if the writers are trying to force the characters to react to the plot rather than the other way around.

I don't want to be overly critical. So much love and effort has gone into making this show, and I'd never want to disparage the efforts of so many talented artists.

But, yeah. Coherence is a bit of an issue.

I will say, however, that re: the subject of grief, especially in Jinx's journey, this season has delivered some beautiful moments. It's a surprisingly nuanced treatment of a complicated and ugly emotion, and it's something I wish more shows would tackle. The problem with a lot of modern storytelling is that, because it's trying so hard to be edgy, complex and subversive, it doesn't really leave any room for just letting characters exist. And Jinx's arc in particular is a perfect example of this.

I was worried, going into the season, that they'd take the easy route and paint her as a pure monster, utterly deranged from her loss. That's what the fandom seems to want, anyway, and it's what you'd probably expect given the general climate.

But instead, the show has chosen for Jinx to be vulnerable, and to let her arc be honest. Granted, Isha, though she's adorable, still doesn't quite feel like a full-fleshed out person, but Jinx's bond with her has been written with such heartbreaking realism that I'm inclined to forgive the former for the sake of the latter. It's just refreshing to see the series not to take that insulting and reductive 'but Jinx is crazy' route, and instead allow her to grapple with the pain of losing her family and the horror of what she's done, but to also heal old wounds with brand-new connections.

'Crazy' does not mean 'irredeemable.'

And it's about time more mainstream media got this memo.

The series also continues to be stellar at showcasing so much with such restraint. A lot of the scenes don't last longer than a few minutes, and yet you can feel so much conveyed in that brief window. And the framing and composition is consistently masterful.

Overall, though, I'm a bit underwhelmed by this season so far. It feels like an incomplete masterpiece, and the sense that the narrative has lost control is starting to get overwhelming. We've still got Act 3 left, and I'm hoping the final stretch is able to tie things together a little more neatly.

Anyway, thank you for reading this mess! And feel free to share your thoughts as well. I'm curious to hear how other people are finding the series.

<3

[piesafterdark]

Predictions for Arcane as a franchise + my thoughts! Season 2, Act 3 spoilers ahead.

jayce, viktor, and jinx can't be dead. Let me tell you why.

no. 1, Arcane's been pretty explicit with deaths. Silco, Vi and Cait's moms, Benzo, the sergeant from season 1 act 1 etc etc we've all seen dead bodies, time pass without them coming back, or character arcs shifting to accommodate deaths (lsha's and Silco's death shaping Jinx). In season 2, Maddie's, Ambessa's, and random extra's deaths were all shown on screen. Therefore, if we don't see a body, the body's still moving.

no. 2, while this is Arcane's last season, there's going to be more Runeterra shows. Of course we don't know what's going to happen over there, but I don't think Riot and Fortische are just going to throw Arcane's characters away unless they do. "the arcane is waking up" and all that jazz. Seems to me like the arcane isn't back to sleep, and who has experience with the arcane. Oh, right, all these cool guys. Leading to points 3 and 4.

no. 3, Jayce's crystal, given to him by the mage (Viktor) in season 1, was used for teleportation, if I remember correctly. Rather than dying/getting sucked into the crystal, they've been teleported somewhere else and will be used to shift the focus onto that location. This fits. Moving to a completely different location would disrupt the glorious evolution. Plus we didn't see their bodies so.

EDIT: apparently it was the rune of insight or smth. my bad. Still, theres a chance? Please Riot, pleaaseee

from arcanegifs

no. 4, Jinx my beloved. There was a line of shimmer leaving the explosion at the bottom of the pit, and the epilogue of Cait looking at the pit and seeing air ducts hints that Jinx/Powder escaped. I'm pretty sure the Zepplin shown at the end was to imply she left Piltover and Zaun, finally becoming her own person. Throughout the show, her identity was determined by her relationships (hair mirroring Silco's, smoke tattoos for Vi, mental illness from causing her brothers' deaths), and with hallucination Silco suggesting the best way to change the Cycle of Killing is leaving, that's what she chose to do. Additionally, her handwriting for the "the end" at the finale suggests that she was there to write it. She's alive guys trust me. Her change of scenery can be used to shift the focus to a different location.

My personal Thoughts:

on no. 4, I would hate it if they decided to kill Jinx after she found herself. It's overused. Seeing Jinx/Powder finally become herself without Silco's, Zaun's, and her sister's baggage in a new place would be super interesting. As someone who doesn't play League, I've heard there's some blond character she's shipped with from a different country/city? Foreshadowing perhaps? Plus it'd be so in character for her to start a new series with a chaotic "I bet you're wondering what I did after I faked my death."

Cait and Vi will probably remain in Piltover/Zaun doing reform (the show's whole point). The reason why Vi didn't look super duper sad is probably because she's going through shock or because Cait reassured her that Jinx/Powder isn't dead (air ducts). Ekko's probably going to do reform w/ the power couple because that's his motivation.

The sex scene's context is a bit odd, but Jinx literally gave Vi permission to be with Cait so... ? When life gives you lemons, give your gf head i guess. Wish Cait did apology head though, she really hurt Vi... But then again, Vi probably wanted to get lost in the sauce and forget about everything around her, hence the "I don't fucking care" comment.

Jayce was right, Viktor was blinded. Love that they're in love.

It's so interesting to see Sevika going from backing revolutionaries (Silco and Vander) to becoming a revolutionary herself and actually getting a seat on the council!! She went from kingmaker to king.

Thought season 2 was kinda rushed? Idk wished we had hour long episodes just to flesh things out.... still a great season.

It's not over. With the success this show's been giving Netflix, there's at least twenty more on the horizon. God bless Riot and Fortische.

going to go cry now.

[cabe0512]

After watching all of Arcane, I must say in my humble opinion that I genuinely found myself rooting for Caitlyn and Vi's relationship in Arcane more than Olrox and Mizrak in Castlevania: Nocturne.

There may be a lot of similarities between these two pairings. For starters, either of them came from different sides of a great conflict. Vi came from the squalor of the Undercity (later Zaun) while Caitlyn came from one of the elite clans of Piltover; Mizrak is a member of the clergy who fights against injustice during the French Revolution while Olrox is a vampire and the last of a civilization torn down by "colonizers". Their relationships are often bogged from their differing ideals and personal motivations which threaten to drive them apart.

Despite these similarities, Caitlyn and Vi practically won me over because the good writing and the slower pacing of the first season allowed for the seeds of their relationship to take root and flourish. Even I found myself feeling giddy over their scenes together, and this slow yet promising setup was paid off quite masterfully in the second season where their relationship would be put to the test. Their romance never once felt shoehorned or blatantly "woke" by any means, and it felt natural and organic within Arcane's story.

In contrast, I felt absolutely nothing for Olrox and Mizrak. Due to the rapid-fire pacing and the unnecessary bloating of the story, there was never a time when I rooted for these two or even considered the prospect of them falling in love. After their first encounter, the next time we see these two together was in bed naked. Like, that scene came out of nowhere and it gave me tonal whiplash. There was no proper build-up, no setup, no anything. Their romance was sudden and quite shallow, and it served no purpose other than to ruin the momentum of the main storyline or divert attention away from the supposed protagonists (to the point of making them feel uninteresting or insignificant). And this, I believe, is Nocturne's biggest failure; rather than patiently build up to it by each succeeding season, the writers had no choice but to clumsily rush it to its conclusion to disastrous results. And it's a shame because I liked the ideas behind the story, just NOT the execution.

Though I do understand why some fans enjoy them so much, it just didn't sit right with me on a writing standpoint. While there might be a chance that Season 2 would improve on this, I have no confidence that it would stick the landing just as much as Arcane did. It just goes to show how much good writing could make or break a promising romance.

[sevsdollette]

Not So Sweet [Sevika x fem reader]

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49324864/chapters/124546213#workskin

content warning: still smut. (MDNI) they’re at the brothel this time. fingering, edging, strap on. bondage and like dub con, i guess? obviously reader is into it but Sevika just kinda does what she wants with her to teach her a lesson. brat taming.

summary: It seems like she’s not a customer anymore. Your night could’ve been peaceful, and surely your coworkers would be jealous of you taking their business.

chapters:

1. Relaxing Night

2. A Long Night at Work

note: this one’s fun. tell me why i cared enough about zaun currency to read a reddit post to learn about it. probably still got it wrong too bc i skimmed :/ still in love with her and trying to include more backstory. the reader is like very much based on my arcane oc because why not? it’s my writing i do what i want. also i just really like that story so i want to put it out there. anyway, this one is like just all smut. not much fluff, sorry, but the next one will have plenty of playful banter. hope you like :) (proofread? never heard of her)

—————— 18+ ——————

Life at Babette’s wasn’t nearly as bad as some could picture it. The job itself already gave you a place to sleep—a roof over your head. You were at a point where you were worth enough that only tolerable customers came through. Sure, you had your share of creeps, but most were clean and civilized.

Babette was like your family at this point. You’d been working for her since you turned 18. She had been promising you a job for years before that but wouldn’t allow it until you were old enough. The enforcers would take one look at a minor in her house and arrest her, even if you weren’t working. The day you turned 18, you got off the street.

The worst part was the enforcers. They would raid the place, looking for any drop of shimmer or illegal coins. Some were just trying to do their job. Others would pin you to the ground and cuff you if you blinked at one of them wrong. They’d have their fun teasing you, trashing your room “searching” for illegal activity, before spitting on you and leaving with nothing.

In another life, you were a fighter. In that life, you’d had your fair share of enforcer blood on your hands.

But in this one, you were already too beaten down to care.

Piltover had taken everything from you, much like it did to everyone else. You were one of the only workers that didn’t accept Topside clients. They could go fuck themselves; they didn’t need your help.

That was part of the reason fucking Sevika gratified you so much. It made you feel like you were really pissing off the enforcers, screwing the crime ring’s best fighter. You were helping her grow her forearm strength that night.

You hadn’t run into her since that night. It had been about a week and you’d been lying low. You never knew with those sorts of situations. People could always have ulterior motives. Besides, the lesser known brothel down the road had been raided a couple days ago and you were preparing for the day they came to you.

Sevika surely intrigued you. Given the chance, you would fuck her again, but you knew the likelihood of that. She was too important to hook up with the same person twice. She had every woman in the undercity at her disposal. You were just a whore.

—

The night was still young as you sat up after your last client. They were an excited couple that was much too interested in having a third.

Some of the party left a little disappointed.

In the end, the husband was just watching you take care of his wife. The idea made you chuckle even now.

On your bedside table was your payment. Five silver and two bronze. They didn’t tip well.

Your room at Babette’s was one of the largest there. Lavish curtains hung from the ceiling like it was a deep purple and black circus tent. Silver beading and faux gems hung around the banisters of your canopy bed. The lighting came from low lamps and dripping candles scattered around the room.

The bed, of course, was the centerpiece. It was even on a raised platform compared to the rest of the room. It was a large king with the softest silk a Zaunite could ever touch. There were secret hooks and straps hidden on the sides for easy access, and the bedside tables were packed full of toys.

Other than the bed, There was a small lounge sofa, a mirror, a long plush rug, and a swing. There were other small pieces of furniture around like cushion chairs and little tables, but nothing to be paid attention to.

You got used to your feet and walked down to the other half of the room. You approached the mirror, checking if they left any marks and if they messed up your makeup too badly.

Everything seemed good, and you checked the rest of you. You were wearing a tight black velvet corset with a straight neckline that pressed your chest up. It was part of an underwear set that connected to garters and thigh-high stockings. Your heels had been tossed somewhere around the room, and you didn’t care to find them.

On the coffee table beside the sofa was your mask, which you promptly slid back on. It was simple black and covered down to the tip of your nose. Thin silver laced the edges.

You fell onto the couch, lying across it like a luxurious woman and not an undercity whore. You had the glamor of a woman from Piltover but not the reputation.

You closed your eyes, taking this brief moment of silence. Of course, you could hear the distant sounds that came along with the job. Erotic noises came from nearly every room around, but they blended in after so many years of being there. Someone was always laughing, screaming, moaning, and weeping.

A moment later you rang a bell for the interns to come in and change your bedsheets. They did so quickly and left without saying a word. You were glad. They were a bitchy bunch trying to take your job. All because they thought they were hotter, prettier, or more skilled.

They weren’t.

Out in the hall you heard someone approaching in clicking heels. The curtains to your room slid open, and your coworker Zanira poked her head inside. Her eyes were wide, and she looked around for you somewhat frantically. “Babe, you’ve got a customer coming.”

“Okay.” Your brow furrowed at her. Usually there wasn’t an odd warning before a customer. They just walked on in. You blinked at Zanira. “Let them through?” You didn’t know how to respond in such a random interaction.

Zanira pursed her lips, obviously wanting to say something, but she just nodded and closed the curtain. Her heels clicked as she walked away, and heavy footsteps replaced hers. They were getting louder.

The curtains rustled, being pushed open for the large frame that entered.

A sly smile spread on your face as you watched her look around for you. When her dark, gray eyes met yours, you cooed, “Come back for more?”

When you heard her footsteps you assumed it was some ghastly man coming through for a quick fuck. This was a pleasant surprise. Though, whatever state she left you in would surely impact how the rest of your workday went.

Sevika pulled the curtains closed and clipped them shut. You followed every movement of hers, focusing on how her fingers flexed as she tied the curtains shut. “I heard you’re an expensive one,” she said, eyes sliding back over to meet yours.

You nodded proudly. “It takes a golden hex to get me to do anything.” It took you years to earn your reputation.

“Hm.” She looked over all your furniture, analyzing what the two of you had at your disposal. “What’ll you do for three?”

You smiled mockingly, cooing, “Fall in love with you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then I’m glad I only have two.”

You scoffed. You didn’t need her attitude if that’s all she was here to give. “What brings you here? My girl looked a little alarmed when she saw you coming through.”

Her brow creased and she turned fully to face your side of the room. “Am I not allowed to be here? I come all the time.”

“Yes, but you usually stay with the more… docile of our servers.”

She liked submissives. You’d heard their cries every now and then when you knew she was around. When you would speak to them and they’d mention her, they’d whisper with blush in their cheeks and a prudishness to their words.

You were no such doe.

“Come here and I'll show you why.”

You cocked one eyebrow. “I’m not moving until I see money.”

For just a moment, her strong demeanor faltered. Did she really expect you to crack like that? It was almost cute. She was disappointed. You weren’t like the easy sluts down the hall that listened to her every beck and call.

“What?” You pulled yourself up by the back of the sofa. You now sat across it like a model. It was enchanting and you knew it. “You think just because we hooked up at a bar that you don’t have to pay me?”

That was an off-the-clock fuck for fun. For actual pleasure. If she found you while you were in this room, she had to pay you. There was no premium pass just because of what happened in the back room of the Last Drop.

Though, you wanted her. Half of your brain said “so what? Whatever will happen will be worth much more than whatever she’ll pay you”. The way she stared down at you made you hot. She was there for one reason, and, hell, you wanted to make sure she got what she came for.

“You weren’t asking for payment the other night. Say, by the way you looked I doubt you even remembered what a hex looked like at the time.”

Images of what the two of you had done came flooding back (as if they ever left), and you pressed your thighs together slightly.

Still, curtly, you asked, “Is that so?” You faked a pout. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Your vulnerability is showing, Sevika. Don’t be so desperate, now.”

Her face hardened into stone, and she looked down at you with stern eyes. You would be lying if you didn’t say it excited you. This little game the two of you played was pure entertainment.

She stalked over to you and stopped when she stood above you. You stayed lying back, acting as cool as could be. She leaned down, placing one finger under your chin to tilt your face up to meet her eyes. She didn’t smile as she said, “You’re real cute when you act like you’re in charge.” She pointed across the room. “In bed. Now.”

A shallow breath fell from your lips and, yeah, just like she said, you couldn’t even remember what money was. You wanted her again—you needed her.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Fuck, you’d make up the money some other way.

You stood up, slipping past her as she ran her hand down your back and watched you go. Her gaze was like glue to your backside, you could tell.

“And get rid of that fucking mask.”

You threw it to the floor.

You crawled into your bed, pushing the covers back and sitting up by the pillows. Across the room, Sevika walked over slowly, pretending to be interested in everything else in the room but you.

When she reached the bed, She stood at one of the banisters, leaning against it and crossing her arms.

“What’s wrong?” You cocked your head to the side. “Water too cold for you?”

She shook her head. “Not at all.” She gestured to all of you. “I want you to touch yourself.”

Her tone had you wishing you would listen to her. She did something to you no other fuck did. Just the way she raked her eyes down your body made you shiver. But you couldn’t let her know that.

“Why should I do that?”

“Because I’m not doing anything to you until you do, and if you don’t start listening to me when I tell you the first time, we’re going to have some problems.”

“Then I guess we have problems.” You stuck your bottom lip out, mocking her.

She sighed, raking her hand through her hair. She looked back down at you. “Come here.”

You crawled forward, stopping at the edge of the bed where she was and getting up on your knees to meet her eye level.

“Oh, but you’ll listen to me now?”

You smiled. “I choose what I want to do.”

“Yeah, alright.” She wrapped her hand around your throat. “I thought you learned your lesson last time. Now, I’m losing faith in you.”

She squeezed just tight enough to have you dizzy. You grasped her forearm, leveling yourself and she held you up just slightly. Excitement riddled your body and you felt yourself getting wet. You wondered how much longer until you broke.

“And, gods, you’re gonna have to stop talking,” she growled, getting close enough to your face that you could smell her.

“But—“

She pressed a metal finger to your lips. “No.”

You swallowed a boulder. Her grip on your neck was starting to have you see stars. It was heavenly. She leaned in, but flinched back when you tried to do the same. She held an ironic, menacing grin as she held you still and kissed you.

It felt like a wash of relief. As much as you were playing to cool, you wanted her so badly. Your panties were ruined and soon you would be too. The heat in your core was nearly unbearable.

Her hand squeezed just the slightest bit tighter around your throat and she had you gasping. You clawed at her forearm and she continued to kiss you, sliding her tongue beside yours. Instead of letting you win, she took one of your frantic hands and brought it down to your underwear, encouraging you.

The room was rocking and spinning around you. Sevika kept you wrapped in her kiss as your shaky hand slipped into your underwear and you dragged one finger through your folds.

A strangled moan ruptured your kiss. Sevika moved to kiss your cheek, jaw, and then your neck as your fingers began to circle your clit. The feelings together were the perfect mix, and you felt yourself relaxing into her touch. Despite this being only your second time together, she knew exactly where to drag her teeth to have you moaning into her ear.

She took her hand from your throat, caressing it down your body as her metal arm kept you firm in her grasp. You needed it. You kept a slow, torturous pace on yourself and it was starting to make you weak. You’d finish soon if you weren���t careful.

Sevika kissed down your neck and across your collar. Her arm hooked around your waist and reached for the laces of your corset. “How do I get this off of you?”

You could hardly think with your hand still massaging your clit. With your free hand, you reached behind yourself and felt around for the right tie.

She was impatient, taking her sharp metal finger and slicing through every row of laces.

“Sev!”

The corset fell off your front and she pushed it out from between the two of you. She stared down at your breast, taking one in her hand as she muttered, “I’ll get you a new one.” She rolled your nipple between her fingers, having you sigh. “Now, shut up.”

“You can’t make me—“

Her lips caught you in another kiss and she led you to lie down on your back. She moved you so the two of you were lying properly in the bed.

You could feel your orgasm coming. You rubbed your clit faster as she seemed distracted with your breast. She dragged her lips down your body and took one of your nipples in her mouth. She ran her teeth over the sensitive skin, sucking it into her mouth. The sensations of all your pleasures made you feel electrified and you could stop from moaning her name.

You were expecting a boring night. But this was anything but that. her figure over yours was enough alone to send you over the edge. Just to know that you were in her arms, being ordered around by her, being punished by her, was maddening. You felt dizzy even without her hand around your throat.

Just as you thought you were going to cum, she pulled your hand out of your panties.

“But…” Your eyes got lost in hers.

“You really don’t stop talking,” she grumbled. You watched as she leaned over and pulled one of the drawers of your nightstand open. Excitement fluttered in your stomach as you wondered what she was grabbing.

She came back with a cloth tie. She sat back between your legs, holding it up menacingly. “Maybe this’ll help you shut up.”

Before you could protest, she was wrapping it around your head and tying it tight enough that you couldn’t speak. The gag pressed into your mouth and you bit down on it with as much attitude as you could, glaring back at her.

“There,” she smiled. “So much prettier when you’re quiet.”

You spit curse at her through the cloth, only becoming more irritated as she nodded along mockingly. As if she could understand every gargled word. Her grin only widened with every nasty word.

Her coarse hands ran over your ribs, reaching around you to flip you over on your stomach. “Stay there.”

And before you could jerk your hands up to move or untie the cloth, she had your wrists pinned behind your back. They fit between the grasp of her calloused palm snugly and she held you still.

She was reaching over again, grabbing another tie to keep your wrists together. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you were more obedient.”

You lay there, completely at her disposal, as she picked up your hips and moved them where she wanted. You were on your knees, shoulders and face pressed into your sheets, and growing wetter by the second. Your clit still pulsed from your fingers, and you needed her to touch you.

Everything she did to you was different and electrifying. Hundreds of people came to visit you but none knew how to touch you like she did.

You turned your head to one side, craning your neck to see her behind you. She was pulling her shirt off and then her bra. It was an entrancing sight, watching the muscles in her shoulders and neck move to pull the clothes over her head. Her brow was tense with focus as she dropped her things off the side of the bed.

You looked at her bare figure, nearly moaning just at the sight of her. You needed to see her pants come off too, but she was done, looking back at you with a hooded stare. She was devouring you with her eyes. it sent a shiver up your spine.

She leaned over you, pressing her chest against your back as she pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. Her breath was hot against your bare neck, and the sound of her breathing so close to your ear made your core drip. She groaned as you pushed your ass up against her hips, her teeth biting down on the back of your shoulder.

Her hands ran down the sides of your torso, dragging her fingertips over your skin to make you shiver. Her hands rubbed the underside of your breasts, massaging your soft mounds.

She cupped your breast in her hands, pressing them against her palms as she pinched your nippled between her fingers. A sigh fell from you as you continued to grind your hips back against hers.

One hand moved down your front, toying with the edge of your panties as she bullied your nipple until it was sure to bruise.

“You don’t need these, do you?” She asked.

Before you could even try to respond, she was ripping through the fabric and pulling it off you. She discarded the tatters before slipping her hand back down and diving into your sensitive folds.

“Mm,” she hummed, collecting your slick on her fingers. “So fucking wet, and I was starting to worry you didn’t like me.”

The tips of her fingers began to push into your entrance, causing you to relax into the mattress as a moan slipped past your clenched teeth. Her two fingers curled inside of you, her palm rubbing your clit as she set a slow and burning pace.

The cool metal of her arm slid around your hip, guiding you to ride her fingers. She forced you to comply with her slow pace though you wanted to rest your finish so badly. With every curl of her fingers, she pressed hard against your most sensitive spot. Your soft walls tensed around her hand, dripping down her knuckles as she left a hickey on your upper back, right where your muscle met your neck.

It was hot and painfully slow how you rutted against her hand. A slow moan slipped from you as she tugged at your sore nipple once more. She rolled it in her fingertips, massaging your soft tissue as she rubbed your clot against the bone of her palm.

“You’re so fucking nasty, baby,” she groaned. “Can’t believe I’m fucking a whore like you.”

A blush spread across your face as you whined, grinding your hips faster to try and get her to speed up. You cried her name with a demand to get her to do what you wanted, but it only came out as a string of muffled grumbles.

“What was that?” Her voice was laced with teasing pleasure. It was dripping with amusement. She pulled her fingers out a bit just to shove them back in harshly, having you suck in a hard breath. “You’ve got something in your mouth, babe. I can’t understand you.” She said it so plainly it was like you didn’t already know. Like you were just that fucking stupid.

She seemed to be taking pity on you, ravishing in the way you squirmed when she went faster. Her assault was unwavering as the pleasure spread throughout your body.

Heat shot to your head as you felt your orgasm coming. Your body was frantic, trying to grind and ride her hand just the way you needed to finish. Stray curses and moan were muted by the gag. The cloth was now soaked with your spit and drying out your tongue.

“What’s that?” She taunted, “You’re close, aren’t you?” Her gravelly voice right by your ear. You nodded quickly, face rubbing against the mattress as your eyes snapped open to look at her. The hair was falling out of her ponytail and curling over her forehead as she hovered behind you, close to your neck.

The constant rubbing of her fingers inside of you had you hardly hearing her. The room was filled with your strangled, muffled moans as all you could focus on was chasing your finish.

As quickly as you felt the orgasm coming, she pulled her fingers out of your soaked cunt. The sudden loss of sensation had you twisting under her, hard and angered words spat through the gag as you flared back at her.

“Hey—hey!” She gripped you by the hair on the back of your neck, tugging your face up to look her in her eyes. “Don’t be suck a fucking brat. You’ll get what you want, be patient.”

Your hair slipped through her fingers as she dropped your head back down onto the mattress. Your face smushed into the sheet as your lower half went cold. She moved off of you, once again reaching into your nightstand to find something else.

Your eyes widened as she pulled out a strap that was bigger than one that had ever been inside of you. That one was only for you to use on other people. You didn’t think it could fit in you.

Her name was butchered through the gag as you tried to get her attention. She was too busy pulling the harness over her hips to care about your worries.

Her pants had already been dropped to the floor, and you fought your hardest to break your wrists from the tie she’s put them in. You wanted to feel the strong hacks of her thighs. Her plain black underwear was low on her hips, revealing how far her deep purple scars went down her body.

“Sev…”

Her eyes flicked up to you. Her face was shadowed with lust. Even if you could tell her that would be too much, she wouldn’t listen. You could still see your juices on her two fingers as she walked back over to the bed, crawling behind you.

“I know,” she assured, rubbing your ass and hip. “You’ll be okay, baby. I know you can take it. You talk a lot of shit, but I see right through you. You like it when I treat you like this.”

Your fingers clenched as you tried to pull your wrists free. She only took it as an opportunity to reach down and kiss your knuckles gently. As if she was trying to be chivalrous and sweet.

A final snarky remark was spat into the gag, and this one was louder than the last. A sharp sting spread across your ass as she spanked you. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as she smacked you again, the pain tingling under your skin. It lingered as she adjusted behind you and began to rub her cock through your soaked folds.

The cold silicone made you shiver and whine into the mattress. She eased you into the feeling, but soon enough she was pressing the tip against your entrance. So covered in your slick, the tip pushed into your puffy pussy with more ease than you expected, but soon the stretch became painful.

A sharp cry broke through the gag as she continued to abuse your cunt. Every time you thought all of it was in you, she pushed just one inch more. Finally, the base of her cocker your entrance and you whimpered at the fullness. There was no more you could’ve fit if she tried. Your walls clenched around her and you pushed your hips into her to convince her to move.

Perhaps her teasing was over because she complied, pulling out and rocking back into you. She found a rhythm that you could keep up with, your thighs shaking and tensing as she thrust you again and again.

The tie around your wrists was beginning to strain the muscle in your shoulders and wrists. Your head pressed to the side made your neck crane and cramp as you were pushed harder into your bed. So fucked out, the pain was hardly noticed compared to the coursing, heated pleasure thy she sent through your core, all the way into your lower belly.

You would’ve stayed there forever. The bed creaked with every thrust of her hips, hitting against the wall as she muttered a mix of cruel and sweet saying to you to coax you along.

At some moment, she moved behind you slightly and slowed her pace. Your worries grew and you thought she was denying you your finish again, but she soon began her cruel humping again.

“Here, sweetheart,” she cooed, leaning down so you could see her. In her hand were her two hexes. “Take it.”

You glared up at her, wrists writhing in their tie.

“Come on,” she urged, holding her hand closer to your face so you could really see the money she was going to give you. “You can’t have it unless you take it from me.”

She jerked her hips into you harder, making the strap shove further into your cunt. She had you groaning, face smushed further into your pillow.

Through the bag came a muffled “fuck you”, and she frowned at you pitifully. She shrugged, moving out of your gaze and dropping the coins somewhere on her clothes.

She thrust roughly into you again. “I think you should just give up on this bratty act. I like you a lot more when you’re broken and fucked out underneath me.”

Sure, she was talking to you, but you weren’t listening. One of her hands had snaked down to your front and was rubbing tight circles around your clit. Together, her stimulation and rutting was quickly driving you to your finish.

If you could talk, you would beg. The pleasure was too overwhelming for you to come up with any bite. You needed to cum. You needed her to take you there.

Your peak was approaching fast. and she could tell from the way your hips pushed back into her more sloppily than before. It was a frantic attempt to finish before she could stop you.

“Come on, baby girl, you can cum.”

That was all you needed, her deep voice pushing you over the she as you keened, going limp into the bed as your orgasm shot through you. It came in heated waves that had you crying for her.

She was kind and slowed with your finish. The ribbed sides of the dildo beginning to burn as she slowly pushed in once more time. Then, she pulled out, rubbing the muscle in your shoulder as she sighed.

Her hand slipped up to undo the gag at the back of your head. Your limp body had her pulling the cloth out from under the other side of your head as you spat it out of your mouth.

A thick breath heaved from your lungs as you licked your dry lips. “Give me a break.”

She lifted an eyebrow.

Your nose wrinkled. With the nastiest, most disrespectful tone you could, you spat out a “please”.

She shook her head, smiling to herself. “Okay, baby, I’ll give you a break while I untie you.”

“What if I run?” You hissed. She loosened the tie around your wrists, and you immediately pulled your hands free, rolling your wrists as you pushed yourself up onto shaky arms.

“You couldn’t even if you tried,” she said, helping you roll over onto your back.

You stared up at her, the hair sticking to her forehead, her chest rising with her heavy breaths, and the imprint of a wet spot on her underwear. The sheen on her broad shoulders and biceps was entrancing as you were lost in the sight of her as she leaned down to kiss you softly.

Her hot tongue slipped against yours as you whined against her lips, cradling her face in your hands. She rubbed her palms down your hips, adjusting your legs and spreading your thighs as she brushed the sticky strap against your core again.

A weak sigh slid between your mouths as you braced yourself to take her again. You were sore, but as the dildo rubbed against your clit, you were alight with arousal once more.

She frowned. “I’m sorry, but I’m not done ruining you, sweetheart. I want to see you cry on my cock.”

She sunk deep back into you, having you a heaving mess under her. “Now,” she began. “Do you think you can stay quiet without this?” She held up the gag, looking down at you with an expectant gaze.

You let out a heavy breath. As it fell out of you, you realized she’d won. You were too tired and fucked out to bite back. All you wanted now was for her to take care of you. You’d do anything to keep her here with you.

“Good girl.” She rubbed her thumb across your cheek. “See? You can behave.”

She pulled out just enough to ram back in. Your mind was lost in the heat of her. You were ready to beg if need be. You just couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of her fucking into you.

Your hands, still sore from the tie, pressed against her collar and chest. Her skin was softer than expected, and slick with her sweat. You reached between your bodies and cupped her soft breast, massaging it gently. She moaned into your skin, rutting into you so the strap stimulated her clit just as much as she pleasured you.

You were so full, her cock so thick as she rubbed the ribbed sides against your abused walls. You wrapped your legs around her, pulling her closer as you ran your hands through her hair.

Her lips met yours in another heated, hungry kiss. She was nearly desperate, spit mixing with yours as she thrust harder and you whined against her mouth. Her teeth nipped at your bottom lip. She rested on one elbow, hand threading through your hair as her metal fingers gripped your thigh to keep you tight against her.

She wasn’t focused on your pleasure, humping against you just so she could feel the strap rub against her clit and get her off. She used you as a fucktoy to reach her climax, being ceaseless in her own pace.

The idea of it made you feel close regardless. The fact that you were her’s and she used you however she wanted had warmth spreading through your core and sparking to your clit.

Your eyes began to sting as tears built at the edges. It was a flood of sensations that had you moaning and crying out as she kissed you again.

“You’re okay, sweet girl. You look so beautiful right now.”

She bit down on your neck so hard you were worried she’d draw blood. Your makeup was running down your face as tears collected in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. You tugged at her hair, having her moan against your skin.

You met her hips, trying to persuade her rhythm to please you, but she only pushed your hips down harder. “Stay still, baby, I’m close,” she groaned. Her incessant thrust only hurt, smacking against your cervix as she chased her high.

Another wave of arousal rolled through your body as her chest pressed against yours, her nipples pressed into your skin and breasts. It didn’t take much longer before she became a mess above you, moaning loudly in your ear as she jumped her cock into you quickly to satisfy her finish.

Stray whispers of praise fell from her lips as she continued to thrust into you, wanting to see you cum and you were close. Shivers shot down your spine as she dragged her lips across your jaw, and your orgasm came on suddenly, having you shake and your vision go white. You screamed, nails digging into her shoulder as your pleasure overtook you.

She hushed you, hand rubbing your hip to coax you down from your high. Heavy breath heaved through your chest as you lay there, hot and thoroughly fucked as she helped you come back to her. Your eyes cracked back open, finding her looking down at you gently with a slight crease in her brow.

“You there, doll?”

You smiled, nodding as she rubbed her thumb across your bottom lip. Sharp exhales still shot through you as you relaxed against the bed and in her arms.

She pulled out slowly, easing out as you but your lip from the sensation. You watched as she took the harness off. She came back with a cloth and wiped the insides of your thighs.

“Why can’t you be this nice all the time,” you jested, pushing her shoulder gently with one foot.

She scoffed, laughing lightly. “I could say the same thing to you.”

You made an annoyed sound in your throat, brushing her off as she got back up. The mattress shifted with her weight and you tried your best to sit up and lean back against your pillows. Your wrists ached as you pushed yourself up, and the tendons in your thighs were sore as you closed your legs.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” you muttered. “How am I supposed to do my job now?”

She shrugged, pulling her pants back on. “That’s not my problem.”

You crossed your arms. “Food is expensive.” You didn’t make enough money that day to buy dinner for yourself yet, and you were starting to get hungry. She tired you out in every sense. Hell, you really needed some water too.

“Okay,” she nodded. “How about I make it up to you? I’ve got a poker game tomorrow night and one of my guys just bailed. There’s an empty spot at the table if you want it.”

Your brow furrowed. Why the hell did she want you there?

“You can eat as much as you want,” she offered.

Your head tilted to the side. Every pro and con ran through your mind and a million questions shot through you, but one came to the surface: “Why me?”

“Because I want someone easy to beat,” she teased, pulling her shirt over her head. She saw your glare and shook her head. “Really, there’s just no one else, and the game won’t be as good with less people. You seem like you could hold your own against the guys I hang out with—much better than the girls down the hall.”

Surely, she had some ultimotives. She probably just wanted to get in your pants again but was trying to be nice enough so you would let her. A night at her poker table would probably be a good time. You gambled with some of the other workers when business was slow and you thought you were pretty good. Besides, being seen with her so publicly would probably keep you safer when walking down the street.

“What time should I be there?”

She was fully dressed, standing at the edge of the bed. If she was happy with you agreeing, she didn’t show it. “About nine.”

“Okay. Fine.”

She nodded, leaning over the bed. “Okay, I have to go now.” She motioned for you to come forward and kissed you slowly when you complied.

She hummed against your lips. “Walk me out?”

“Funny.”

She laughed, leaning back and muttering a goodbye as she walked out. You said it back quietly, face slightly contorted in confusion as you tried to figure her out.

After she was gone, you laid there for a while in silence. Your sweat stuck to your skin as you ran your hands over your hair to tame it in the back. You wiped the makeup that was smudged under your eye.

A few minutes later, Zanria poked her head back into your room. You assumed she was just being nosy, but you soon saw she was carrying a tray of something.

“What?” You asked, feeling a bit too tired to be nice.

“She paid for this,” Zanria said, walking up to you in the bed. You sat up more to see the platter full of grapes, cheese, chocolate, and other small foods. There was a small pitcher of water, too.

Of course she did. She seemed to care about you a lot more than she was supposed to, and you weren’t complaining.

You only hoped it wouldn’t get too deep

[kravchikfreak]

all this "if you think the writing is bad just try to understand why they wrote it that way and what was their thoughts first" just makes me think about all poor written stuff i've ever encountered

and boy or boy am i able to UNDERSTAND where all these young fic writers and "greenhouse academy"-ish writers are coming from, what they were trying to do, what their characters are, WHY they do what they do and what motivates them. it all doesn't make the writing better in slightest

i kid you not, ANY badly scripted stuff can be "explained" and turned into "making sense" by the power of thinking about it and trying to give the thing your own meaning. hell, that IS what art is about, by all means. art is about to look at some random splashes and think about what it means to you. and then trying to sell your meaning as what the author tried to do in the first place

like i think i can explain anything that anyone can call "a bad writing" (i assure you i can explain every mari sue and any plot instrument without personality and even paint them as someone who has a personality) with a power of having imagination and logic and being able to remember that different people react differently in the same situation. so like "the character A did B cause of C" i'd say "yeah, makes total sense for them to react like that". but if it was "the character A did D cause of C" it'd still make total sense actually, cause like i'm sure there also was E, F, G, H before whole C, and if you juggle them all masterfully enough you can make any outcome possible. and also remember the wild card of "just cause", that you can shove in any decision, especially if right after you can tell any consumers "just go figure it yourself why is this all happening"

jinx being relatively stable after silco's death makes sense cause in his death he gave her peace. jinx going full psycho was a strong possibility and still would have had perfect sense cause she's unstable and have a history of being a bit crazy. without his speech her stability would make little to no sense. but i'm assure you it could still be explained if desired. doesn't mean it would be a good writing

but last i checked the show wasn't for psychotherapists only. why do you need a degree in psychoanalysis to have a right to talk about writing if it's bad?

and once again arcane isn't any near aspiring young writers or some other netflix shows level and also all the people who enjoys the second season has all the right to do so, i feel you fam, i myself sometimes too in love with objectively shitty stuff, so i totally understand being in love with good thing

it still sucks this season tho. and just cause i can imagine stuff in my head and fill the gaps that writers left where important events were supposed to take place myself doesn't make it not bad

i don't know anymore what i'm talking about to be honest. i'm just bored again and i love writing essays so here we go. love all you guys who agree or disagree with me. instead of self-righteous shitheads who think they're the ones who right all the time. cause clearly i'm the only one who is right. all the time

[ironcy]

What is your favourite moment/line/scene for the each of the main arcane charas?

Also, what are your favourite headcannons you’ve seen around/come up with?

Love your stuff!!

Thank you for the love and the ask anon <3

I thought about this for way too long, the show is so full with absolutely incredible moments it's hard to narrow down. I tried to choose a favorite scene or line for everybody though!

Viktor

"We lost ourselves. In the pursuit of greatness, we failed to do good."

That entire scene is probably my favorite in the entire show and I could write an essay just on that. Heartbreaking. Makes me cry.

Jayce

"You were never broken, Viktor. There's beauty in imperfections."

Vi

Not a line, but the scene where she leaves Powder. I have a little sister and this hits me like a truck every time I see it.

Jinx

"Are we still sisters?"

Ekko

"Anytime it rains, it's Zaun that gets wet." Ooh man this entire scene of showing how Piltover's progress is literally made at Zaun's expense.

Heimerdinger

"The brambleback has left the jungle." HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA IT'S SO FUNNY TO ME PLEASE

Caitlyn

Hugging Huck in season 1 :(

Singed

"Why does anybody commit acts others deem unspeakable? For love."

Staying on theme! Because I will never get tired of saying that this show is about love! Even Singed's actions aren't motivated from evil.

Silco

"I gave you credit for your stunt, boy. Didn't think you had the stomach." / "He didn't even haggle."

That entire scene when he realizes that he will never give Jinx up even if it means losing the one thing he's always wanted is just so incredibly good don't get me started. He finally gets the offer he's been waiting for, and he can't take it. It shows that arcane is ultimately about love and it's just... perfect.

Mel

Council room fight scene, both for the stunning fight choreography and her conversation with Jayce beforehand. I think it does a lot for both characters.

[cherryheairt]

Cherryheairt's Page Guide

Hello, one and all! Call me Cherry. I am a writer and reader who has been on Tumblr for a few years since around 2020, but I only recently started writing for the fandoms I am in around Autumn of 2024. My inbox is always open to those who have writing requests for shows/movies I know (see:request rules) or to anyone who simply wishes to chat.

My current biggest interests lie in HOTD, Arcane, Batman (2022), Genshin Impact, SM:ITSV and SM:ATSV, and Marvel (specifically X-MEN and old era), and Bridgerton.

I used to write pretty much non-stop years ago around 2017-2018 and stopped due to lack of interaction in my fandom. I only came back because of HOTD, which became my muse and quickly gave me my spark back, although I consider myself pretty amateur still. All my requests do get worked on at my own pace and motivation status.

Requests- Currently OPEN

My request rules

2024 Masterlist

Dragon Dreamer (Cregan Stark series fic)

The Lost Dragon (Aemond and Cregan series fic)

2025 Masterlist

My WIPS-

Collab Series

Dragon Dreamer chap. 17

Jacaerys Velayron Series

Viktor Series (The Weight of Us)

Viktor Series (The Line)

Legolas Fic (req)

Cregan with Blind!reader

Cregan with nontarg!'Lysandra' (req)

Cregan fic (Solstice Gifts)

Cregan fic pt.2 (Not Yet Blossomed)

More Cregan reqs in inbox

[greenlightbulbonawire]

Misfits (yeah like the Arcane song)

XLIX.

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Summary: From the dark musty cell of Stillwater all the way to the very base of Firelights, but where to from there? Guess you'll just have to let fate lead you.

Author's note: I'm back with more content!! I know left you on kind of a cliffhanger and than this chapter's probably gonna be dissapointing for a lot of you, but then again, this is supposed to be slow burn (I never wrote a fanfiction b4 so if it doesn't feel like slow burn, I'm sorry ToT) Anyways, also my apologies for not posting last week, I ran out of pre-written chapters and didn't feel like writing, BUT, I did get my motivation back so here we are!! enjoy the chapter and have an amazing day<3

previous chapter: Fourty eighth chapter

next chapter: Fiftieth chapter

Masterlist

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“What do you mean he told you?” Your somewhat horrified and mildly perturbed expression resting on your face as Scars words set into your mind. “Well, to be perfectly candid, he didn’t need to tell me, since Ekko’s like the only person you hang out with, besides the kids, and I really doubt that you’d feel the need to ask about something you’re feeling towards children.” “Okay, first of all, I do not only hang out with Ekko and the kids! I have a lot of friends here!” You furrowed your brows and folded your arms in front of your chest, faking being insulted and scrunching your face. “Uh huh, okay, and second of all?” “I haven't figured that one out yet.” Scar chuckled quietly at your statement and shook his head, the smile still lingering on the man's lips. “Look, I know you probably made your choice carefully…” He started to say as you murmured “No not really” under your breath but stayed listening to his sentence. “But honestly, I’m not the best person for this talk, I have my kids and all, but I think you’d find more help in someone closer to your age.” “I thought you were close to my age though.” The man gave you a confused look and tilted his head slightly. “[Reader] you do realize that I’m about ten years older than you, do you?” “YOUR WHAT”

… “Or maybe it’d be best just to talk with Ekko you know?” “Yeah, but how do I do that? What would I even ask him?” The girl who helped you in the kitchen that one time, and who you learned was called Lyra became your second victim. “Uh I guess you could just get him slightly drunk and then ask whatever or just start talking with him, Ekko always tends to spill his guts when he's drunk or high from my personal experience.” You nodded in acknowledgement and thought back to the one night when the council blew up, and you and Ekko had your little drinking session on his balcony. “I mean, there was this one time when we were both drunk, and he told me I was pretty or something.” “What are we even talking about here then?? I really, genuinely doubt he’s not into you.” Lyra said and rolled her eyes and you could literally feel the blood rushing to turn your cheeks red.

“Look, I don’t know you all that well and shit, but I never thought that you’d be a coward.” “I’M NOT A COWARD” “Yeah? GO TALK TO HIM THEN DUDE.” You sighed and let out a little whiny sound. “He’s busy repairing my hoverboard right now, I’m not gonna bother him.” “You broke it again?” Lyra chuckled and shook her head, fixing her eyes back onto the dinner in making, skillfully cutting up some root vegetables, as the sound of a knife hitting the cutting board repetitively accompanied their words. “Ehh you know, shit happens.” You replied and rolled your eyes lightheartedly, not that Lyra could see it anyway. “Not so sure about that, it’s more like you’re just really careless, or you’ve made it your own personal goal to ruin your board as much as possible.” The girl teased you back and scraped the cut up vegetable into a pot of boiling water with some other stuff getting cooked in it already.

You had to admit, even if this girl was brutally honest sometimes and could be more of an acquired taste, she was good company, especially if she was cooking. With her in the kitchen, the whole atmosphere of the room felt so comfortable. The smell of the food being cooked mixed with the light banter coming from Lyra and yellow sunlight seeping into the room could even challenge the evening chats with Ekko on that billboard on Faes street. “Hey no fair, I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.” “How about you take some responsibility finally and own up to your actions huh?” Even if you didn’t want to, you had to admit they were right. “Whatever, don't worry your pretty head about it, come here and help me. I’m in a good mood and feel like actually teaching you stuff.” “Oh really? So you’ve finally taken a liking to me?”

“Don’t… Don’t make me change my mind.” Lyra threatened, but deep down you knew she would hold true to her word. So without much of a second thought you pushed yourself off of the ground and joined them at her side. And after a few minutes you were filled with new information regarding what spices go well together, how much to stir when cooking different foods, and man did you regret not having something to write all of this down into. You had to hand it to her, they knew a lot about food. The sunlight started to slowly disappear and the food looked and smelled better and better with each passing minute. You couldn't wait to eat it. The Undercity isn’t exactly known for its cuisine, and the resources down here are somewhat scarce too, but this girl was a magician when it came to cooking. Now you finally understood why they spend most of her time in the kitchen.

[letters-to-rosie]

Sorry I'm sending so many asks, tho I'm curious if you have any tips on writing race in the Arcane universe. Clearly it's not the same as the real word but it a showrunner were to say point blank that racism doesn't exist in Arcane I think I'd get really mad. Idk, if you're still figuring it out sorry, I I'm just curious

lmao no problem I never stop talking anyway

but not only do I never mind getting asks, I was THRILLED to get this one. this isn't in my wheelhouse. it IS my wheelhouse. it's what I'm getting the phd for so they'll let me teach this sort of shit lol. I was literally so excited when I saw this that I had to make myself get to a certain stopping point on my final paper for my history of race class (how fitting) as a motivation so I could come answer afterward lol

the real key to it is something you've already identified in the ask itself: that it's not the same as the real world, but it's definitely there. and with that in mind we can think of talking about how race comes about

so I'mma break this into two sections. the first is about dealing with race (or racialization) in a fantasy setting like Arcane, and the second will be on how real-world structures still have a bearing on what we write about those fictional worlds and how they're perceived. okay, let's get into it (and let me type properly lol)

Because race isn't rooted in biological reality, it's constantly shifting. It's meanings are never fixed, but because race is a way we naturalize the world around us (much like gender stereotypes), it appears more permanent than it is. Now, this isn't discounting racialized violence any group has endured. But the process of defining who belongs to what group, where the dividing lines are, what racial stereotypes mean, and so on, is ongoing.

Race is a popular way of dealing with difference, but it's far from the only one. So what we have to ask is how a group of people become not just different but fundamentally different in ways you can assign supposed traits and behaviors to them. There are a lot of ways this can happen, and every instance has its own historical specificity. Also, every instance is caught up in a "web," so to speak, of cultural context, understandings, and referents (riffing Clifford Geertz and Stuart Hall a little here) that allow people in that web to make sense of the world around them and to understand themselves. So it's very messy, but often we can find some key events that set the process of making a race, racialization, in motion. A good example IRL is the way that brown people of all backgrounds were racialized as vaguely threatening in post-9/11 America. Another is the Transatlantic slave trade, which gave economic incentives for dehumanizing black people and, eventually in the U.S., created a social structure where people who were only partially black could still be enslaved, which is how you get tan black people like me lol. Another example could be the absorption of various European immigrant groups into whiteness throughout U.S. history, or the effort to separate the Japanese from other East Asians after they beat Russia in a war in 1905.

In general, we're asking "what set racialization in motion?" A war? Colonial expansion? Mass immigration? Capitalism? Usually you don't have just one, and usually race combines with one of those forces to exacerbate a previously-held idea of difference in a society. So all of a sudden those people aren't just different, but they might as well be a different species.

In Arcane, we don't get enough backstory to say anything definitively, but we can assume that the divide between Piltover and Zaun is primarily economic. The game lore suggests some colonization, too. In any case, by the time of the show, there are already:

firmly-established delineations between Piltovans and Zaunites

a stereotyping that hides the complexity of the problems the cities face (see Jayce saying to Viktor that the Zaunites are criminals; of course, he's worried about Jinx, but he's operating on the assumption that the Zaunites are acting up because of their criminality, which hides other motivations for their behavior; in all likelihood, most of them were upset because they couldn't get to work, which would lead to a loss of wages and more economic precarity than they already experience)

a robust system of incarceration, police brutality, and environmental racism leading to disparate health outcomes across groups

and a division of labor that relies on all of the above (though I REALLY wish they'd explain more about the mines I need to KNOW)

So, again, it's not race as such, but it's helpful because we can see that it's not entirely reducible to social class, ether. If it were, Viktor would have had a much easier time, and there would be more economic mobility both up and down the ladder. I think it's more than fair to say that racilization is at work, even though the characters have a wide array of physical features on both sides of the river. Racialization can most certainly happen even when the people involved look mostly alike (see the English and the Irish for the classic example).

Okay, so we've established that some race-y things are going on. What about the second part? What about the real world?

We have to be honest and note that our real-world experiences are going to affect how we engage with these characters. This isn't inherently a bad thing, but it's important that we're aware and cautious, handling the question of race delicately. I, for one, have been really disappointed in some of the audience reception of the show's black characters (and a teeny bit in how I feel like their arcs were rushed compared to the wider cast). I'm not really invested in any ship involving Jayce, not gonna lie (though I will say it takes a lot for me to get invested in a ship in general; I have to really click with it to care), but the hate Mel gets over shipping cannot be separated from mysognoir. It just can't. Likewise, with Ekko, I'm sometimes nervous about descriptions of his body that remind me of the VERY long tradition of fetishizing black men to hell and back. But he also gets the short end of the stick in shipping sometimes, and I think his relatively lower popularity in fandom is likely related to his race.

This is me, a black woman, calling it as I see it. We could also get into Sky, but that's a whole other thing. I think that when we engage with these characters, it's important to note what is actually in the text and what might be a projection of our world's current concepts of race onto the fantasy world.

So, for example, assuming Caitlyn is better at math than Vi because her facial features are East Asian. Vi is Jinx's sister. Vi is better at math, presumably, at least in terms of talent, since Vi wouldn't have gotten to go to school. A way to work in the racialization of the show's setting could be for Vi to express frustration with people think ing she's dumb just because of where she's from, or she could be upset she doesn't know something not because she is a Zaunite but because Zaun is so oppressed that Vi never got a proper education.

Mel is a pretty calm character. If someone wrote her as very angry, for example, I'd be like whoa, sounds like the stereotype that black women are angry is at work here. Mel expresses anger at her mother, but otherwise she's very level-headed. For an example in the setting, perhaps Mel tells a close confidante she's a bit tired of the veneer of civility Piltover can put on. Race works in multiple directions. By saying the Zaunite are the rowdy ones, it's saying Piltovans can't be (not that they actually can't, just under their world's racial logic). How would this play out in Mel's life? Could make for an interesting fic.

One example I can speak on personally, because I'm writing it, is my attempt to engage elements of real-world black radicalism with the Arcane universe. Like, I have lines that Ekko says in one chapter that are deeply inspired by one of the most famous Pan-Africanists in U.S. history. But I can't map that thought onto, say, Mel, just because she's black. Her position in the society is such that real-world blackness doesn't really have anything to do with her outside of her reception by the audience. I do, however, engage that sort of thought with other Zaunite characters, mainly Jinx, despite her being white in the real-world framework. In the setting, she's racialized as a Zaunite, and I'm proceeding accordingly, working with those categories of race instead of the ones I deal with in my real life.

Another thing I'm very wary of is beauty being attached to skin color. I'm a bit wary of skin color being mentioned a lot in fics in general, honestly. In a world where skin color isn't the means by which people are divided, it wouldn't be nearly as worth noting. What about...accents? Perceived intelligence? Did Viktor go to Piltover and have people go "oh, you're so articulate"? I bet he did.

Okay, this is getting very long. Pretty much what I'm trying to say is that the answer is to think about what race does in the real world and then think about how it would work in Arcane or any other fantasy setting. What gets people designated as a race? What stereotypes are associated with them? How do people resist this? and so on.

And on the flip side, we have to be attentive to how race in the real world might be coloring our perceptions of certain characters. By being conscious of this, we can avoid potentially reinforcing real-world racial logic. And by examining what racial logic is and what it does, we can become prepared to deal with it in the real world.

(and yeah I would also not enjoy a showrunner saying it doesn't exist in the universe lol)

[couchtaro]

!!

from the OC introduction ask! (Sorry followers this is long but its worth it i prommy there are even pictures)

This is my little dötter Basil, a D&D PC of mine! She only saw 3 sessions of play 3 years ago but she is getting a second chance at life because @eaudecrow picked her up from the shelter and gave her a lovely yard to run around in.

Basil is a little tiefling girl whose large family runs an apothecary and surgery in a tiny little backwater town called Tarnygee. Basil’s brilliant mother developed a strain of magical herb that when processed can cast (without spell slots or prior magical ability) Lesser Restoration, thereby curing any disease instantly.

While traveling to heal a local noble, Basil’s mother disappeared and a bigshot inventor came forward claiming her panacea as his own. When Basil’s oldest brother tried to confront him and wound up dead, it became clear there was nothing they could do to get justice on their own. So, fueled by grief and rage, Basil took a job as a part-time warlock at Seelie Corp., a fey megacorporation with mysterious motives. In return for her working as their errand girl, Basil gets to be distinctly less killable and more tricky as she tries to find the inventor and extort him for the good of her destitute family.

Things aren’t working as well as she would like though: due to being basically a middle schooler, she’s got to keep her work under 40 hours a week and gets limited pact benefits. Her supervisor (a weasely pseudodragon named Keith) is dismissive and unhelpful, and her small town upbringing has kept her deeply unprepared for taking on the wild world of men and magic on her own.

Luckily, she’s found some unexpected help! While submitting her weekly report through the postal system of Fey portals, Basil’s paperwork went awry and found its way to another world: specifically a bunker in a war torn parallel version of the material plane. This bunker is the home and prison of Crow’s Aaren D’Cannith.

As a youth, Aaren invented a mechanical race called warforged, but seeing their potential for war and servitude, his family seized his blueprints (AND HIS ROBOT DAUGHTER) and disowned him as soon as he came of age. Aaren spent a few years as a vigilante trying to free his creations, but was trapped in his secret library when a magical-chemical fallout steeped his homeland in a volatile and toxic arcane gas. There he stayed, trapped and utterly alone, for three years.

Until Basil.

The two are corresponding via letters that we actually write each other, and it’s SUCH a fun and interesting method of storytelling to me aah. Despite being little more than strangers separated by a barely permeable divide, and despite Aaren struggling to believe Basil was even real at first, the two have formed a very sweet bond that makes me so unwell, you would not believe.

Both are grieved by how much of their own misfortune they see in the other. Through Basil’s letters, Aaren can tell that she is young, inexperienced, lacking support, and actively in danger as she allows herself to be used in exchange for power. He sees her situation with the eyes of someone who has been there and thus liberally (almost desperately) shares what little he can: his own arcane study materials, what he’s learned about survival and avoiding arrest, and, not the least, assurance that despite her perceptions, Basil is clever and kind and she matters.

Basil in turn is Aaren’s one connection to other people, and to a world that, while imperfect, is not ravaged and desolate like his own. After years of incarceration and tedium, he now has the exhilarating privilege of small talk and an audience for the terrible, terrible jokes he’s cooked up in isolation. He has a way to not only talk to someone outside of himself, but to help. He has something productive to do, and a reason to do it, not to mention the interesting puzzles of how their letters are finding each other and what else might be going on with Basil’s work. Basil is truly grateful to him, and returns his kindness in what little ways she can—most recently by interdimensionally mailing him his first real food in years.

Currently, Aaren and Basil are working to craft a pair of sending stones for daily artificer/botany jokes and (real reason) so that Basil can have some sort of emergency contact if she needs urgent advice. 25 words once per day is frightfully little if she ever runs into real trouble, and the limitations of their contact are never more haunting than when one considers how little Aaren could truly do in an emergency. I’m sure this frustration is only worsened by the unfortunate atrophy of his knowledge and skill caused by fog exposure. But he’s a clever man, and Crow had some ideas that seized my brain for weeks. Goodness.

Anyway in conclusion

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk

[juurensha]

Hi! I really enjoy your bnha fics! For the Fanfic writer emoji questions part II : 💖🤩💪🏽

Yay, thank you so much, love getting these asks!

(Link to ask game here)

💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

Okay, so I'm going to cheat and pick 3.

Lords of Zaun - my gigantic 100k Arcane Silco/Vander fix-it fic. yes, I know I just wrote it, but I seriously think this is one of the best things I've ever written. It's got bitterly divorced exes somehow finding their way back together and learning to trust one another again, adopted children with tons of shenanigans, political maneuvering and machinations, learning to accept the best and worst parts of yourself, smut that provides a lot of character development (I hope! given how many smut scenes I had to write for this fic to make sense!), and of course, building out the nation of Zaun and giving them the ending that they deserved instead of what canon gave them.

be all my sins remembered and more - my Guardians of the Galaxy Mantis fic. This is just a very personal piece to me, and it's one of my fics that really got me back into writing fanfic again. Rereading it, I think it's still an emotional gutpunch of a fic, and the worldbuilding with all the kids I added still holds up.

darling, thank god it’s this universe we’re in (and you can annoy me as much as you please) - I mean, I couldn't not mention my very canon divergent DabiHawks 80k masterpiece, could I? I came up with so many OC's to flesh out the world of this fic, and it's really special to me as one of the main pieces where I could give the characters the happy ending I thought they deserved--and I mean every Todofam character here!

🤩 What's the most meaningful comment you've ever received?

So of course I love any long rambly comment I get, especially when they quote my own fic back at me (seriously, I reread those over and over, thank you SO MUCH to anyone who does that), but one comment specifically that stuck with me was one from sandollar on darliing, thank god because they mentioned that that fic inspired them to talk to their older brother and tell him they missed him--and that was so touching to me! That my fic actually influenced someone!

💪What motivates you to write?

Honestly what motivates me to write fic most of the time is my desperate desire to give the characters the ending I think they deserve instead of the ones they got in canon. That's what inspires the deranged word count on most of my longfics--but I'm also inspired just by sitcom scenarios or interesting character dynamics! And as for original stuff--got to admit that half of the time I'm inspired by reading books that I'm like, you know, great idea, poor execution, let me try that again.

[dilemmars]

The detail in your writing for "die with a smile" is so good! You describe things so well!

You connect your oc to the existing characters so well with the way you portray her teaching jinx how to build things and when she gave the pocket watch to ekko. And the fact that it doubles as foreshadowing too. Not to mention her and Vi's relationship, which is so so cute and perfect. And the Roman numerals idea coming from her is 🫠

I'm excited (and scared) to see what happens next!

thank u sososos much you're gonna make me cry 😭 i really really love arcane and its universe, and every time i write a fanfic i try to honour the hard work of its artists, producers and creators. i love to play with the foreshadowing and the parallels, introducing details and lore of my own if i manage. the fact thay you noticed it and took the time to write this and send it means the world to me, and it motivates me to keep writing. thank u, thank u, thank u, really 🤍🤍

[league-of-blorbos]

Here is You Care About Him, Don't You?, a Rhaayn fic where the two run into Hwei, who can see into their emotions and learns more about their relationship that even either of them do.

Y'know, it's weird. I thought all the horrible and concerning layoffs at Riot yesterday would've made me lose motivation for this universe, (to be fair, it did, this fic was supposed to be out yesterday but I delayed finishing it), but if anything I feel more invigorated. Because so many of the people let go were creatives, especially ones that do concept art and story writing, I'm not optimistic that the lore of Runeterra will be much of a focus outside of Arcane. So if Riot themselves aren't going to tell stories about their own characters and do good with the hard work and creativity that these people gave them, then I guess it's our job to continue telling those stories for them. Even if all I'm doing is writing Rhaayn yaoi, I'm still honoring the work of the creatives that were fired by focusing on these champions as characters more than functions in a game or blank slates to sell skins with.

[too-destiny-panda]

Wyllvember Day 30: Epilogue

A/N: And so, the end of this wonderful event upon us. I would like to thank everyone that took the time to read, to comment and to like my fics. I would like to especially thank @sagscrib and @commander-yinello, both for posting their prompts that gave me the inspiration adn motivation I needed to write something, and for always taking the time to look over my works. As this is the last prompt of Wyllvember, I wrote two drabbles instead of one, as I believe our dear Wyll deserves two happy endings. And with that, I bid farewell to the month of November, and wish you all a wonderful rest of 2023. -Blue

WC: 1299

With each action taken, each word taken, people are making decisions that affect their destinies. Even a small thing such as deciding what colour to wear changes the course of the day. And this story truly had many different paths to take. This humble author has decided to explore two of them. Both of them are happy, for few deserve anything but happiness, and the person that is the object of my focus deserves it tenfold for all his sacrifices. So, instead of dwelling on the what if’s, digging through the misfortune that could befall him, this humble author has decided that for once, a happily ever after is in order. And what is better than one happy ending? Two, of course. And with that, this author bids you farewell. May your journeys be full of joy and discoveries.

Epilogue 1- The Blade of Avernus

As the Netherbrain fell, and everyone got their bearings, the parasites withering into nothing but dissipating arcane energy in their skulls, for the first time in weeks, the odd group of heroes could breathe. None of them could explain what they felt as weights have been lifted off shoulders, curses have been dispelled, bombs have been disarmed. It was magnificent. For just a few moments, they were the undeniable victors of their dilemma, the writers of their own destinies without any supernatural being dictating what they can and cannot do. Those few moments were dampened by the rising sun, Astarion’s skin greying and flaking off until he swiftly found cover. The second one was Karlach’s heart.

Everyone was aware of her condition, but the tiefling was surprisingly adept at hiding the severity of it up until now. And though it was clear something must be done to keep her alive, she waved off any concerns, saying that there was still a little bit of time before it became critical. And so, Wyll had little bit of downtime to spend with his lover, their talks of the future settling on travelling to Avernus to slay every fiend that shows ill will. When morning came, it was apparent that they would welcome a third person on their journey. Despite Karlach’s hesitation, they eventually convinced her to come with them, if only to buy her some time to fix the engine. And as they stepped into the Hell’s, the ones holding the strings (except for the archdevils and the especially arrogant cambions) shivered as an unfamiliar sense of dread accumulated in their entrails, it’s unknown source quickly approaching.

Few would venture into the Hells willingly, but when one survives a magically enhanced Elder Brain, three Chosen, and several other remarkable perils, they figure they might as well tempt fate for a little while longer. The three heroes carved a bloody path through fire and desolation, hunting and killing fiends of all ranks, with periodical check-ins with the Grand Duke, as the father-son bond slowly recovered. Eventually, they made enough disruptions for even Mizora to begin fearing for her life. Perhaps she thought that Zariel would protect her forever, perhaps she thought herself safe once the Blade of Frontiers lost his warlock powers. Whatever it was, she was wrong. For the Blade of Frontiers was no more, in his stead rising the Blade of Avernus, staunchly determined to keep her from harming the world with her existence anymore than she already has.

One day, a portal opened in an abandoned ruin in a forgotten corner of Faerun, three figures emerging from it. One was an imposing figure, the once jagged edge of a broken horn now slightly softened from headbutting, a mechanical heart no longer in danger of overheating but fully ready to make use of a certain blacksmith’s expertise. Another, with a crow perched on their shoulder, a quiet confidence in their posture as an acorn is held safely in a pouch around their neck. And finally, the last one, curved horns a contrast against the brightness of the portal, a blue skinned head held by its copper hair in one hand and a blade in the other. The Blade of Avernus has returned home at last, one victory closer to his goal.

Epilogue 2- Grand Duke Wyll Ravengard

Celebrations were held all over the lands, though the biggest merriment was surely in Baldur’s Gate, the city most threatened by the cult of the Absolute. The streets were still filled with debris and corpses of mind flayers and allies alike, some mourning their loved ones while celebrating a new dawn where they live to honour them. Even the strange gaggle of adventurers were celebrating, though there was an order of business first. By returning the Crown of Karsus to Mystra, Gale earned her favour and although he refused to become her Chosen, he did ask for one last favour: to keep Karlach from overheating. Of course, it was a temporary measure until a more permanent cooling system was found, but it lifted the mood, nonetheless.

Amidst the loud cheers and merry conversation, Wyll Ravengard stood off to the side, looking upon the ruins of the city as he contemplated his future. Grand Duke. A title he dreamed of as a boy, and one he quickly stopped dreaming about after he accompanied his father to one meeting. And now here he was, that title once again hovering in his mind, though this time it was a certainty. No longer would he be free to travel across the continent, slaying monsters and helping those in need. Instead, he would make important decisions, draft up and approve laws, navigate court intrigue to try and ensure the prosperity of the city and its surroundings. A bittersweet feeling rose in his chest at the thought of being guided by his father once again, though this time, he sensed, he wouldn’t be as strict, for fear of driving his son away once more. A lot of talking would have to take place between the two before the wound healed, and maybe it never would. But as long as Ulder was willing to do his best to atone, to earn his son’s forgiveness (no matter how much Wyll believed there was nothing to forgive), they could at least somewhat repair the bond they once shared.

Even as he woke up the next day, his partner pressed into his back, he still though about his newly acquired position. All the good he could do, as well as harm if he wasn’t careful. It has been a while since he navigated court intrigue, and he was admittedly rusty at some of the finer points of noble etiquette, but the arm thrown over his waist reminded him he wouldn’t be alone. The acorns safely kept in the pockets of their clothes were proof of the promise he had made, one he intended to fulfil as soon as possible. Whether it be a grand and lavish wedding, full of refreshments of the utmost quality with guests he had never even met before and a ceremony that could put a god to shame, or perhaps a small gathering of their closest friends and family, with a homey and relaxed atmosphere and a heartfelt gathering, it didn’t matter to him, as long as he could call them his on paper as well. His heart fluttered as he stroked their skin, anticipation and excitement building in his lungs at the thought of his newfound future.

And what a future it was. Soon, people far and wide heard of the just, kind but firm, Archduke Wyll Ravengard and his lovely spouse, their love so sickeningly romantic many blushed at the sight. And months later, news spread of a different kind of love and happiness, as seemingly everyone knew that the young Archduke was now granted a new title; father.

[yakichoufd]

Sleep deprived mind communicating with sleep deprived mind!!! Hi howdy I'm the Jhin anon again here to scream about the sketches. I got Covid for the first time yesterday and I've been miserable but oh my god the sketches are like buckets of seretonin! Your wonderful responses have given me enough confidence to come off of anon lol.

Again I agree with all of what you've said. I'm so very torn because I was a League player back in 2014 and then Arcane reawoke the love I had for the game. I thought Viktor was really cool in League, badass scientist dude! And then Arcane Viktor? I just wanna give him a hug and tell him he's gonna be okay. So I'm torn. I wanna see the Herald in all his power, but I also want Viktor to remain the absolute gem that he is.

I'm a Jhin main though, I love that angsty man. He's a fascinating character, a meticulous criminal psychopath who believes his victims are works of art. There's something about the dynamic of Jhin seeing Viktor as a work of art so priceless that he couldn't stand to kill him. And Viktor, recently struggling with the Hexcore and how he perceived Jayce's lack of understanding (refer to me crying at "Jayce will understand" followed by "I'm from the Undercity" scenes). Having Jhin by his side, admiring his work and seeing the shades of purple in Viktor's skin as splashes of watercolour rather then corruption by the Hexcore??? They could be good for each other, in their own anti-hero way.

I had to chuckle at the throuple idea with Jayce. I love Jayce, I think he's a bit of a dork (affectionately). It's likely that he'd be quite intimidated by Jhin.

Aaaaaaand again I'm just Unwell Essay Writing in your asks I'm so sorry 😂 if you do get the time, Jhin is a very complex character to look into. I hope you get some good sleep 🥰

I'm sorry you are sick and I hope you'll feel better soon! <3 I'm glad my doodles cheered you up and I really enjoy our conversation! I'm now very intrigued by Jhin and him thinking Viktor is a piece of art is very sweet! I'm looking forward to discover this character if he 'd show up in arcane!! :)

And I agree with you, Viktor must have lost so much trust in Jayce with this "they're dangerous" sentence. He thought their dream and goals were the same until this scene. I think Jayce managed to regain some trust at the end of the season (with his speech to the councilors) but I don't think Viktor would ever see Jayce as he used to (in the context that their divorce goes super slowly). Even if our dear Jayce gave independence to Zaun. i-i It took me some time to appreciate this character, he is a little bit more complex to understand than the other ones. Most of the others champions have a clear motivation and path to follow while Jayce is a little bit different imo. In act 1 he is this clever young scientist who is risking everything to prove his theory and in the other acts he just say "yes" to everyone haha! Sorry I'm talking a lot about Jayce (or Viktor) cause they're the only character that I know haha! I'm going to read Jhin lol's lore thanks to you! I hope you'll be able to sleep and feel better soon! take care <3