#imagining Egypt extras

[artyphex]

So have some lightning-fast sketched of human-form Sekhmet and Thoth

I really just wanted to get down an idea for human Sekhmet’s scar and face shape and try and draw an ibis for Thoth. None of this is final ESPECIALLY not Sekhmet’s hair. Especially that

I have to admit at this point “Imagining Egypt” has gone far past “what would the gods look like” and is just straight up a wholeass game in my head that will never exist. I casually designed a level today it’s gotten bad.

Because of that I wanna do more with it but don’t wanna write a fanfic and CERTAINLY can’t rely solely on god portraits to tell the story because those take two weeks to finish. So. This is my happy medium. Quick doodle pages with some notes. I imagine this is the lowest level of these little “extras” and the highest level might be a quick comic. Point is faster than full-painted portraits

I had fun doing this and there will probably be more. I wanna include Atreus and Angrboda in them but drawing Atreus still terrifies me because I’ve fucked up his face both times I’ve tried

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

Support Reema's family in Egypt and Gaza.

My other promotion lists | imagine studying for midterms on a phone

Updated: Nov 23

Member(s): @reemash46 (shadowbanned), @reema16 (shadowbanned), @reemagaza (Reema), IG: reema_shurr (confirmed hers, see under cut for proof)

Verification: Operation Olive Branch Masterlist #18

Payment methods: Credit/debit, Paypal through my Kofi (Specify that it's for Reema. Be warned that Paypal takes a cut. I will post proof of donation within 24h under the 'receipts' tag.)

Donation match $20 CAD

Summary: Reema is an evacuated Palestinian studying pharmacy abroad in Egypt (read this post for more context). Funds are used for family members in Egypt and Palestine. See under the cut for details.

CAD is weak compared to other common currencies. Your donation can go a long way.

Campaign details:

Read the first campaign details post for what happened in this campaign so far. I also added some explanation on her financial situation and where the money she already raised (Roughly ~$15k CAD) is. Summary: she can't get it quickly due to banking restrictions.

Nov 18 update: The campaign has stagnated heavily recently, and Reema needs donations to afford the basic needs (ex. food) of her family still in Gaza.

Nov 3 update (done):

Reema's sister recently underwent surgery but there were complications in the procedure. She still needs to be hospitalized and monitored until her condition improves. This treatment requires $1,600, or $23,700 CAD in the campaign.

Reema bought her laptop before finding out about this. Extra money saved from this purchase was spent on her family's livelihood in Egypt. They have no emergency funds remaining.

Reema's sister's situation improved and she was discharged from the hospital on Nov 8.

Oct 20 update: Reema needs to wait for her campaign manager to transfer these older funds to her. She expects to get $3,000 in mid-November, but she's worried that she won't be able to pay off next semester's tuition if something goes wrong.

However, she can easily access new donations and these are considered emergency funds just in case she can't get the older ones. She needs more in the emergency budget because her family drew from it on Oct 10 to pay for her sister's surgery.

If everything goes smoothly, this money will go towards supporting her family members in:

Egypt: Reema wants to pay her parents back for supporting her journey and wants to contribute to their livelihood

Gaza: Preparing her family for the winter.

Misc:

Reema on IG confirms the Tumblr is hers

[madschiavelique]

﹒ ✦ 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐍𝐊 : 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟔 — 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐬 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫

✦﹒ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : it is your final day in Demacia, and after you wave your goodbyes, it seems that help is more than needed.

✦﹒ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : hurt/comfort, friendship (wow), denial is a river in egypt but reader is finally off its boat? some backstory bit, palmistry, and extra card bc i'm that extra

✦﹒ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 16,3k

✦﹒ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : hey so this chap tops the previous chap in terms of who's the longest, woopsie. sorry i took so long but life happened. this chap marks the end of the demacia arc and opens up another one that is going to be very juicy.

✦﹒ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐘 : the pretty boy @oneoftheextras

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓．．𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 ．．𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓．．𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐎-𝐅𝐈

When you woke up, it was with great difficulty and a scratch in the back of your throat that you struggled to clear before getting up. You glanced at the time, 11:30, you still had a little time to eat.

You simply put on a sweatshirt and a comfortable pair of jogging pants, lightly tidying your hair and rinsing your mouth before setting off for the hotel restaurant.

In the hall, the students who hadn't yet slept soundly were all hunched over their breakfast trays. Some of them had undoubtedly overdone their drinking the night before, and you could see their faces grimace as soon as a voice or a sound that was even a little too loud had the misfortune to rise in volume.

With a coffee in one hand and a pastry in the other, you took your place at one of the tables in silence. There was no sign of Jayce, Sky or Viktor. They were probably asleep, enjoying their morning to relax after a night full of entertainment.

You ran your index finger over the skin of your thumb, not trying to tear it off, but to find the sensation of Viktor's hand on yours again. If the dreams hadn't left you with any memories during your slumber, last night had filled you with feelings and new sensations that you couldn't quite grasp just yet.

You found yourself in a place where the eye cannot see, where the feelings and other ideas you had buried within yourself all your life were rushing to the surface and breathing for the first time.

You'd always rationalised and intellectualised every feeling you'd ever had, or bottled them up so that they never escaped out there in a wild that could use it against you, and it seemed to you that the hundreds of shelves containing these feelings were shaking and bringing each vial to the floor to let them explode into thousands of tiny pieces of glass.

You engulfed your breakfast, hoping that the weight of it would soften their each and every fall. The buffet was about to end to let the midday menu take place, and neither Jayce nor Viktor was in sight yet. You imagined that Sky was still at Fiora's, having breakfast there.

They wouldn't have anything to eat if they didn't come soon, so you went over to the buffet and took two napkins. In one you wrapped an apple turnover for Jayce. In the other, you took a scone, a loaf of raisin bread, and a slice of financier, since that was some of Viktor's usual purchases at the café.

With your two little makeshift parcels in hand, you headed for Viktor's room. Given that Garen had probably slept at his own place, and that Jayce had gone home with Viktor, they were probably sharing the room.

Once you arrived at the door, your hand raised in the air and ready to knock, you hesitated. What if you woke them up? What if you disturbed them? What if you suddenly appeared clingy to Viktor?

You quickly dismissed the idea; you were just bringing them breakfast. With a sigh and your heart racing slightly, you knocked on the door, waiting for it to open or to hear a ‘come in’ from the other side.

You waited for a few seconds, without any answer. Maybe they were still asleep, or maybe they were busy, or maybe they'd got up earlier than you and you were uselessly bringing them this pitiful breakfast.

You were just about to turn away from your door to crawl back under your blanket when the door opened.

Viktor was standing there, hair slightly out of place, still in his pyjamas. He seemed surprised to see you, his eyes dropping for a moment to your two folded napkins in hand, perhaps originally expecting Garen to be the one who'd come to collect his things. As for you, you'd expected...

"Jayce is in the shower," he began, a little smile on his face, "what's that for?"

You remembered the scene as if it were yesterday, your brown paper bag of bread for Jayce held out towards him as your annoyance filled the air of a bickering conversation.

"I'm bringing you breakfast," you said in a more playful and relaxed tone than the first time, handing him the two small packages.

He smiled, raising his eyebrows. "Your grace is too good to offer pittance to the lowly plebs," he said, pressing himself against the doorway and resting his temple against the doorframe. "Your candor is delicious."

You smiled at him for a moment, bringing his little packet of sweets close to his hand. You felt his fingertips against your skin for a moment as you placed your own little food basket in his palm. 

"This one is yours," you murmured as your eyes returned to his.

With his head tilted to one side, he watched you with a certain gentleness, a nostalgia deeply rooted in the taste of the ginger and tomato pasta you had fought so fiercely over on the very day you met.

So many stupid quarrels, so many pointless grudges... how would the version of you from just a few months ago react if she learned that you were friends with Viktor? A friendship that was evolving and totally different from the few you'd had over the years?

How could you explain to her that you wanted to be in his presence more and more? To find out more about him? To take an interest in what he was doing and to be in his life not as a negative dot in the sea of people but as something more?

You inhaled harshly, silence taking over the corridor. When had you ever been nervous about saying anything to him? You'd always managed to let your disinterest and frustration get the better of you, but now that both had died down, you found yourself carrying on a... normal conversation.

"So um," you began eventually, "that was a pretty fun night."

"It was," confirmed Viktor instantly, not seeming to share your nervousness.

"We..." you tried to change your balance on your hips, "we played really well, together."

"We did," he smiled, his eyes resting on you expectantly.

You gazed at him for a moment, feeling light-headed. If your eyes dared to look even at his hand or his leg, you feared you'd have to cut the conversation short - and you didn't want that to happen.

You squeezed the air from your lungs before releasing it. You might as well be honest. "I'm glad we had that discussion last night."

His eyes softened for a moment at the mention of the event. "Me too."

Knowing that the feeling was mutual made you feel all warm and fuzzy. There was this comfort in the idea of being able to share something as intimate as last night with him, to speak softly to each other, with raw hearts, without fear.

He placed the handle of his cane in the crook of his elbow, letting it hang over his side, his two hands carefully unfolding your little makeshift parcel. He looked at the contents, a subtle flutter of his eyelashes indicating his emotion - a pleasant surprise.

"I..." you observed the little package, now appearing more like an apology than anything else, even if it didn't disguise your original intention. "I'm really sorry that I've been nothing but a terrible friend to you."

His gaze rose from the contents of his packet, settling on you with an emotion you couldn't decipher this time. There was this sensitivity, this tenderness, this vulnerability that you had seen the day before.

Pressing his head against the corner of the door again as he watched you, he seemed to consider you as a whole. "You're more than I could have ever wished for."

Your lips parted in surprise - how could you be everything he was describing? It seemed he was painting a picture of you that wasn't your own, or from an angle you'd never seen through blinkered eyes.

"Even with all my remarks?" you questioned.

"Even with all your remarks," he confirmed.

You chuckled for a moment. "Even if I told you you stink of burnt coal, candied apricot and cold tobacco?"

He shook his head, remembering that remark. "Yes, even with that."

You smiled diffidently, biting the inside of your lip for a moment in hesitation. "Even if I haven't told you everything yet?"

He smiled, his eyes calming your stream of thoughts as much as they triggered them. "Especially because of that.”

When were you going to tell him about all this? When were you going to finally open up to him and give him the key to a lock he couldn't see any light in? When were you going to find the vulnerability to let him get to know you?

You took a breath, looking for a way to continue the conversation, but the bathroom door opened, letting a small cloud of steam spread across the room. Viktor sighed, turning his head towards Jayce for a moment before regaining your gaze.

"Duty calls under the petricite filtered water of Demacia," he confirmed, a single corner of his lips stretching and raising one of his cheeks, his eye narrowing slightly and almost winking.

"Right," you nodded, a bit disappointed.

"Oh hey there!" greeted Jayce just behind, body seemingly still scarfed in smoke wisps from the heat of his shower.

Viktor pressed his lips into a thin line before turning away from you and heading for the bathroom, taking care to place his makeshift pack on his bedside table first.

Then you snapped back to reality, realising that you still had Jayce's parcel in your hand. "Here," you handed him, "didn't know if you had breakfast already and since it was getting late I thought I'd get you these."

His eyes widened as an almost euphoric smile took hold of his lips. "You're an angel sent by whatever deity they worship here," he took the small package in hand, opening it hastily and grabbing the pastry. He sighed at ease, humming. "Thank you."

"No problem," you smiled.

"See, I wasn't wrong," he mumbled, his mouth full.

You frowned. "About what?"

"About you two getting along," he said, his thumb pointing behind his back for a moment before his hand came back to point at you with his index finger. "You and Viktor."

You rolled your eyes. "And you want me to admit that you were right?"

"Nah, don't need it, seeing it is enough," he smiled. "Sugar and salt might not look the same, but you can't live your life without them. Same word, different font."

You could tell Jayce had been rehearsing this line hours on end in front of his mirror, but you didn't point it out.

In this incessant waltz with its frenetically changing rhythm that you had been dancing since the beginning of the year, you had persisted in denying your resemblance with Viktor. Yet it was there in your excellence, in your playfulness, in the same toughness and determination of having grown up in a bitter town.

Yes, you had to admit that you shared more than you thought. But did he share those feelings you've been having lately? The same burning of your heart and of your skin when you happened to share the same space, the same air?

"I could see that," you affirmed with a sigh.

He stopped chewing, surprise filling his face.

"You... agree with me on that?"

You rolled your eyes. "Calm down big guy," you stepped towards your door and placed your hand on the handle as you turned to face him. "Even if this is a rare occurrence, don't let it get to your head."

He raised both hands in the air as if in innocence. "I'll take this win and remain silent."

You gave him one last smile before pressing your door handle and going back to your room. There wasn't much of your stuff left to put away, since you hadn't particularly spread out in the room.

You took a shower, relieved that you wouldn't have to endure the sensation of Demacia's petricite-filled water until tomorrow. You looked at the white walls of the bathtub in which you had calmed down, the coolness and steadiness of it still inked in the corners of your skin.

You brushed your teeth, facing a mirror made to reflect two people. Fiora's speech came back into your head, and your discussions, however jagged like the teeth of a saw, would stick in your mind more than you would have preferred.

You gathered up your toilet bag, came out of the bathroom and stuffed it into your suitcase. You took the opportunity to pick up your deck of cards, hoping to end your stay on a positive note with a card that wouldn't tackle you.

The two of cups came out, and you frowned. You'd read this card before, the two characters on the arcana looking familiar, but you'd mostly got it in reverse. Its meaning was therefore different, and you took the opportunity to refresh your memory of its description.

Attraction. Self-recognition in others through the heart. Closeness. Affinity. Healing of the soul.

Was it about Viktor? you wondered. You kept associating everything with him, and no matter what, you couldn't seem to shake it off. Not everything was necessarily linked to him, but you couldn't help associating every possibility with him.

This card echoes the Lovers card: two people approaching each other. A house, implying domestic bliss and housework, stands behind them, reflecting cohabitation. This is the card of balance between masculine and feminine and can be read metaphorically. It's the card of discovering what you love, applied to all areas of your life.

Was this card representative of you and Viktor? Your finger passed over the word ‘Lovers’ in the text. No, it wasn't love, was it? It couldn't be, it had to be platonic love that they meant, right?

You looked at the card for a few seconds longer and forced yourself to put it back in its deck. You needed to go out one last time, to clear your head, to mourn your very first trip.

Once you'd packed your suitcase, you left the hotel, walking towards the campus of the University of Demacia for the last time. Under the blue sky and bright sunshine, the blue slate slabs of the campus buildings gleamed like fish for sale. Some students were taking their lunch break on the perfectly mown grass of the lawn, sharing laughter and anecdotes.

And, not surprisingly, your steps led you back to the training area. You felt anxious about going back there, especially after the events of the beginning of the week, but you had to go back, face up to your anxieties and get it over with once and for all.

The training ground was virtually empty, the students taking advantage of the time to have lunch rather than train. Empty, except for one person.

Swinging between the wooden and sandbag dummies, Fiora drew arcs in the air which, if the burlap cloths had been skinned, would have caused great damage. In a theatrical move, she managed to make a cut in the leather of one of them with a blow to the side, sending a small cascade of sand flying out.

You crossed your arms over your chest as you approached her. "What did that poor dummy do to you?" you asked.

She turned to you, her frown slowly fading to reveal a smile on her lips.

"Looked at me weird," she giggled as you glanced at his face.

Of the two buttons that served as his eyes, one was dishevelled and dangled wearily in the air, reaching the line drawn in thick black marker on the hessian by way of a smile.

"Ready for a rematch, Zaunite girl?" she questioned as she grabbed her water bottle. "Or are you just here to enjoy the show."

You raised your hand in the air as if to dismiss those two flies of possibility. "If it's to end up with the same face as him, no thanks."

She finished her gulp, resting her bottle on the floor. "You manage, though."

You shrugged. "With my fists maybe, with a staff? I prefer to use it for hiking."

"And would you like to learn," she approached the stall grouping wooden swords, "with the sword?"

"So you can shrivel me up and I can go home with a map of blue on my body?" You giggled.

"Relax," she rolled her eyes, grabbing one of the swords by its sanded blade and handing you the pommel, "just because everything's gone to shit around here doesn't mean I can't teach you a few things."

You looked at the pommel, considering the possibilities. Fiora didn't seem to want to start a new quarrel or regain a moment of glory, especially with such a lack of audience.

Your hand reached out and grasped the smooth wood of the pommel. It was heavier than you would have thought, and you gave it a few twists in your hand to get used to its mass.

"Good," Fiora thundered, stepping aside to observe you, "now show me how you would guard yourself."

Having Fiora as a teacher, knowing how judgmental she is, wasn't easy. Every micro gesture you made was going to be analysed and dissected in front of your eyes with possible condescension.

You huffed and puffed, trying all the same to get caught up in the exercise. You held back from gripping the pommel with both hands, and leaned slightly to one side. She watched your position carefully, her eyes roving over your posture before she stepped forward.

"You need to find a way of ensuring that the weight of the sword isn't something extra to carry," she came and took your arm between her hands to reposition it in the air. "If you let your opponent see that you have a problem with your weapon, that tells them a lot about where they should strike."

She repositioned your hips, pressing the wood of her sword close to your ankle to shift it. She stepped back again, watching your posture to make sure everything was correct.

"Good," she said, "now, hit the dummy."

You turned to her, confused. "How?"

"Do I have to explain the definition of hitting to you?" she questioned sarcastically. "I thought you were an expert at it."

You shook your head in exasperation, and hit the dummy. She eyed you up and down.

"Do you usually hit Tyler this softly?"

You frowned. "It was a one time occurrence."

"But if you still did that's how you'd hit him?"

"So he'd find another way to wind up friends and make me suffer? No thanks."

‘’Right," Fiora sighed, “then imagine the person you hate most in the world standing in front of you, and strike.”

You turned to the dummy, only one person in mind. It wasn't difficult to imagine him, his appearance ingrained in your mind.

A man of average height, with a sympathetic face, his eyelids drooping over his brown, almost black eyes, surrounded by the wrinkles of the sun in the skin of a man in his forties.

The mere image of him running his hand over his Venetian blond hair, neatly separated by an asymmetrical parting, made your blood boil. 

So you struck again, harder this time, obviously enough to satisfy Fiora.

"Whoever gets those hits has a lot to worry about," she remarked, pressing her lips into an inverted smile as her perfectly drawn eyebrows rose.

"I hope he gets them," you sighed, your shoulders slumping.

"Don't worry, he will," Fiora resumed, stepping back slightly as you turned to face her. "Good, now try attacking me."

"Already?" you questioned, expecting more practice from her.

"Theory is nice, but theory won't get you out of every situation."

You breathed out, trying to position yourself as she had shown you before. She was watching you, waiting for your move with unvarying weariness. Almost timidly, you described an arc in the air, as if you were getting rid of the move, and she parried it with the greatest of ease.

"I'm not made of sugar," she'd grumble, "make a move, a real one."

You let out a frustrated ‘hmpf’ as you took another step closer and arced through the air, which she simply blocked with a blow that felt deeply light and effortless.

She sighed, seeing that it would take more than a few hits on a dummy to relax you and make you realise that this wasn't a punishment session, but a learning one.

"Look," she breathed as she began to circle you, "although we're in a goldfish world, I know you're not one."

"What a beautiful egalitarian spirit," you commented.

"You just have to realise that you're not going to let commas walk all over you when you're capital letters," continued Fiora, swinging her sword in the air like a metronome. "Anyway, if you've got so much anger inside you, and you don't know what to do with it, turn it into fuel. It's what's stirring inside you that's going to make things interesting and may lead you to overcome more than you think."

You tightened your grip on your sword, moving your arm to get used to its weight and the change in balance. Garen had told you, you had to get it out in the open. Keeping it inside would not only be pointless, it would be your undoing.

"So, what do you say to this Zaunite girl?" she continued.

You sighed, chewing your cheek as a small smile spread across your lips. "Stop circling me like a roundabout, and show me what to do."

She smiled, and you were back on guard.

More than an hour passed during which you trained together, Fiora twirling in the air, supple and free as a petal, while your flexibility was closer to that of a pebble, which didn't stop you from managing to get by with the simplest basics. You'd probably find it hard to walk in the next few days, or to hold anything in your dominant arm, but you tried not to think about it.

After your request for a time-out, you sat down side by side on the lawn, breathing heavily as your skins were covered in a film of sweat. She took her flask in her hand and passed it to you.

You looked at it for a moment, surprised, before accepting it and uncorking it. You were careful not to let the neck touch your lips.

"You're not doing too badly," she remarked, placing her hands back on the grass as her shoulders rose to the level of her chin.

"Don't try to flatter me," you replied, handing her flask back to her.

She took it in her hand. ‘’Alright, you suck.‘’

You chuckled, a small laugh catching you both before she finished drinking in her turn. Your eyes roamed the horizon of hills and green mounds of grass. You were going to miss being surrounded by so much vegetation all the time.

The air here was so pure, and the idea of returning to Piltover or Zaun, where everything was a huge wall of copper and iron, didn't appeal to you any more than that.

"What's it like, Piltover?" questioned Fiora, articulating the last word as she forced her accent to bend to the demands of those in the golden city.

"High, clean, pretentious," you listed, resting your elbows on each of your knees.

"And Zaun?"

You shrugged. "A sly, dirty anthill."

"Well, one sounds more inviting than the other," Fiora remarked. You could feel her gaze on you in your peripheral vision. "Did you learn how to crack your knuckles in Zaun?"

Your eyes lowered instinctively to your joints, clenching your fist instinctively before it relaxed at the memory of Viktor's thumb caressing it.

"I learned on the job," you confirmed, pointing your chin at the dummy before your eyes settled on her, "the kind of thing where you don't have a teacher to learn from."

"Were you fighting so you wouldn't get your little afternoon snack taken away?"

You pressed your lips into a thin line, shaking your head. "You could put it that way. Being a kid in the big leagues teaches you a few things."

"Are those grown-ups still alive?" she straightened.

You sighed. "Yes, they are."

She pressed her shoulder against yours as encouragement. "It's a good thing the greatest duelist in Demacia showed you how to deal with them better then."

You smiled. "Lucky I crossed her path," you confirmed, turning towards her.

She returned your smile, her eyes regaining their seriousness. "I'm sorry, about all I did and said to you." Her playful, condescending tone had faded from her voice. "Really, I wish I could get those words back, to pull them out of your ears and shove them back into my own mouth."

You wondered for a moment whether, every time Fiora set foot on that training ground from now on, she would think back to your first quarrel, or this session, or both as a whole.

"What's done is done," you shook your head, not defeatist, but appreciative. "We can at least be grateful that we've moved on from it, and hope never to go back."

She nodded, watching you with consideration. "We should keep in contact," she finally suggested, "send each other letters, or something."

You nodded, the idea not sounding too horrible. "Okay."

She acquiesced, and a few seconds later straightened to push herself onto her knees and stand. ‘’Well," she dusted her bottom to remove any grass browns, “time's ticking, you won't be leaving in too long.”

She held out her hand to you, the other still holding her sword as the very extension of her arm. You hesitated to take it, to simply stand up and ignore the gesture. But you dismissed it as pity and mockery, grabbing her forearm and pushing on your legs in turn to stand up.

"Let's go, before Lolanthe or Heimerdinger faints," she sighed.

So you walked back together, the eyes of the students outside on the two of you as some whispered to their friends when you passed. You wondered whether they were watching Fiora, or you, or both of you - a particular union of anger leading the way with the elegance and poise of your determination.

When you arrived at the hotel, the students had already started to take their suitcases out into the corridors and bring down their belongings. In your own corridor, you found Garen in Viktor's room, packing up his own things to take home. You finished off with your own, hoping to take a shower on The Young Prince so you wouldn't stink of sweat all day.

So you took your bags outside, the tiny group of students forming just as they had when you arrived again. Everyone chatted about everything and anything, promising to write or visit or see each other again as soon as they could.

Heimerdinger and Lolanthe gave both of them a shared historical lesson on the magical wars, Heimerdinger's point of view and personal experience in all this being of interest to many. Fiora, who had come to sit next to you, seemed to prevent herself from openly yawning at the narration. Jayce chatted quietly with Garen so as not to interrupt the lesson, occasionally raising his hand to ask questions. Viktor, for his part, seemed a little tense, no doubt from lack of sleep.

Then it was time to move towards the harbour for departure, the roulette army resuming the symphony they had abandoned a week ago. While Fiora seemed to be attacking Jayce in terms of gallantry this time, you occasionally glanced at Viktor. He seemed in a bad mood, his features hardened. You wondered why. Had something happened while you were away from the hotel to make him this way? Was he disappointed that he couldn't stay any longer in Demacia?

The sun was already beginning to set when you reached the quays and the familiar silhouette of the Young Prince appeared in your vision. Arriving in the shadow of his balloon, Lolanthe turned to your group.

"Dear students," her accent was sharp and proud, "it has been an honour for us to welcome such brilliant minds as yours, who will undoubtedly enrich this world with their future inventions." Her smile was sincere, and you wouldn't be surprised if, in the years to come, Piltover wasn't the one to welcome Demacian students and perhaps even open its doors to other great Runeterra schools. "The Demacia Academy will always have its doors open to Piltovian students."

"And vice versa," confirmed Heimerdinger, turning to Lolanthe and the students. "Ladies and gentlemen, our stay here has exceeded any expectations the Academy could have had, and we are eternally grateful for the comfort of your welcome and your generosity."

Lolanthe smiled graciously with the delicacy of her features. "Thank you so much Cecil," and you seemed to recognise in the Professor a little blush about his ears as his moustache twitched slightly.

The departure time was announced, and all the students turned to each other to say goodbye. Some cried, emotion overriding any sense of dignity. Others exchanged addresses so that one day they could write letters to each other or meet up again.

Garen walked over to you, a sad little smile on his face.

"This is where it ends," he sighed, "it's a happy ending, all the same."

"There are no happy endings," you countered with a smile, "because nothing ends."

He shook his head, watching the horizon for a moment. "I know a young blonde lady who will write that sentence on any surface with enough room when I tell her about this farewell on the way home." You laughed softly, and he followed you in the gesture.

You were sad to leave, to abandon this heavenly place, but you missed talking to Sky about everything and anything, and you couldn't wait to get back to the showers at Piltover, and to find Selene and Eris, who you couldn't wait to tell everything to.

"I'd really like to keep in touch with you," he said, "to maybe visit you in Piltover someday."

You nodded. "I'll have to prepare a jogging route for you to discover in Piltover then," you smiled.

"I'd like that a lot," one of the corners of his lips quirked upwards.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then came over to you before taking you in his arms and holding you close. He wasn't suffocating, his arms wrapped around your shoulders in a calm, soothing way.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" he whispered in your ear.

You wrapped your arms around him, his back so big that your hands couldn't reach each other even if you pressed yourself as hard as you could onto him. His embrace reminded you of him, and you savoured the thought for a moment.

"Okay," you finally replied, your voice barely audible over his shoulder.

He pulled back eventually, his eyes seeming to check for a moment the vague reminders of the wounds on your face.

"Still got the balm?" he asked.

You nodded, and he nodded back. His gaze drifted behind you, and he placed his hand on your shoulder one last time.

"Let's stay in contact, okay? I got Jayce's address, I'll come and visit sometime."

You nodded, and he pulled away from you.

"Play nice," you heard him say.

You didn't know if this remark was addressed to you for the future, or if it was for Fiora coming towards you.

"So," she began, "relieved to leave?"

You shrugged. "Less than I thought."

She nodded, a sly little smile on her face. "I'd finally get a holiday from the rag."

You raised your chin. "And I from the idiot."

You both smile. It's as if you don't even need words to understand each other, your differences and such aside. You held out your hand to her, and she looked up at you. She brought her hand up to your forearm, and you squeezed hers. It was a pact. Not a farewell, but a goodbye.

"See you, Fiora," you said.

She smiled at you. "See you, Zaunite girl."

Your arms loosened, and she turned away to face Viktor and bid him farewell. He still seemed tense, clenching his jaw frequently. Perhaps she was offering him his last Vikkie, perhaps apologising for her behaviour, who knows.

The time came to board, and you took the handle of your suitcase in your hand, dragging it almost unwillingly to the boarding bridge.

Many students turned to greet their friends, some still visibly crying. Perhaps this was the last time they would see them, perhaps they would never come back here, perhaps they had already set a date to see each other again.

You turned around, Fiora and Garen standing on the quay, side by side in the same way you had introduced yourselves. They smiled at you, Fiora sending you a wink as her eyes drifted to Viktor. You rolled your eyes with a smile before finally disappearing inside the airship.

Mechanically, you walked among the students to find the cabin you had taken on the outward journey with Viktor. You opened it, finding the same layout without any change whatsoever in its appearance. You turned to face the corridor, searching for Viktor with your eyes. When you found his gaze, you tilted your head for a moment towards the inside of the room to show him where to go, and pushed your suitcase to the side of the bed as you had done last week.

He joined you shortly afterwards, silent, walking with difficulty to his bed and sitting down with a heavy sigh mixed with a grunt, the metal of his leg brace clicking and wincing. This time you were convinced that something was definitely wrong.

You straightened up, turning to him. "Are you alright?"

He didn't even offer you a glance, the heel of his bad leg lining up in a straight line between his support on the bed and the floor. "Why wouldn't I be."

His leg looked like it was hurting, but you weren't going to jump to conclusions, maybe it was something else. "You seem tense."

He sighed, pressing his temple against the wood of the bunk bed ladder, eyes closed under furrowed brows. "I just hope the journey will be quick."

"Viktor," you began, "if there's something wrong, you have to tell me."

There was no need to quote your clauses so that he would have them in his head. He breathed, his eyes finding yours through his lashes. His jaw tensed for a moment, his head jerking slightly away from the ladder at the pressure of the muscle rising in his temple before he relaxed and let out a tired breath.

"It's nothing," he admitted, "I'm just... exhausted, that's all."

You sensed that he wasn't telling you everything, but you weren't angry with him. After all, you weren't telling him everything either, so why expect him to do the same?

"Alright, well... I'm going to Heimerdinger's lesson," you warned, "I can give you my notes once he's done?"

His eyes closed again. "That would be excellent, Miss."

"Okay..." you murmured, sensing that he needed a little space, "rest well."

It pained you to see him like this, to see him in such a bad way, to see him unable to let his thoughts pass his lips so that he could share them with you.

You left the cabin, your heart clenching in your chest as you made your way to the common room. The students gathered for an additional lesson given by Heimerdinger, the beginning of which was interrupted, however, as soon as the airship's belly hummed.

Unlike on the previous trip, when you took off from a cabin where there were no windows for you to see anything, you took the opportunity to join the students along the walls and observe the scene from behind the large windows.

The ship rose slowly into the air, gradually moving away from the ground. In the waters of the sea, you could see golden reflections as the sun fell asleep in the arms of the sea. All the stars twinkled across the bay, and it was towards a horizon tinged with pink that you sailed.

Heimerdinger, still unimpressed by such a situation, then called you to order - he conceded that young people needed to satisfy their curiosity and experience all this, but he appreciated all the more that this same curiosity should be placed in his lessons.

The class resumed, the students distracted by the latest visions of the city in which they had lived for a week. It was strange, to become accustomed to a place so quickly, to leave a part of yourself there and take another part with you in a pocket of your memory.

And the sky rested, the sea a mirror where its blue became black and its clouds pink. When the sun went down, the starfish turned the sky upside down, reflecting its eternal partner.

When dinner came, you still had no sign of Viktor, and you were beginning to worry. You hesitated about going to see him. You didn't want to wake him, especially if his night had been short and he didn't seem to be having a good time when you left.

Sky, Orcelyia and some other students pulled you by the sleeve so that you could play a few games of Werewolf, so as not to immediately abandon the Demacian atmosphere.

The games piled up, and as the evening wore on, your concern grew. When there weren't enough people left to play anything, the students decided to go to their rooms, still tired from the previous evening.

So you finally went to your own cabin, slowly opening the door and looking around at the rest of the room. It was plunged into semi-darkness, the light from Viktor's bed on dim in the rest of the room.

He was lying on his side, his T-shirt a tangled mess on the floor. When you approached him, checking to see if he was asleep, you found him almost trembling. You frowned, something was not right.

"Viktor..." you whispered as you approached him and knelt down, concern knitting your brows together, "what's going on?"

His eyes opened halfway, covered by heavy eyelids and watching you with an expression you couldn't make out. Closer, your eyes noticed a slight film of sweat on his skin, his hair sticking to his forehead, his breathing heavy.

You placed your fingers on his forehead, his eyes closing at the touch as he exhaled heavily. No fever, that was something.

"Please," you asked, your voice trying to sound firm to hide the panic, "tell me what is going on."

He pressed his lips together hard as his eyelids closed until his nose wrinkled, his whole face contracting for a long second before returning to normal. His lips parted, his eyes looking into the distance.

"Ran out of painkillers for-" he hissed in pain, pressing his forehead against the mattress that seemed to have been accumulating sweat for a while now, a sigh deepening in his chest as he tried to refocus, "... for my leg."

All that walking for that week must have taken its toll on him, depleting his few tablets of medicine faster than sugar in water.

You breathed in, your eyes resting on his blanket, covering his silhouette. You must have had some painkillers left in your toiletry bag, and you sat up quickly to open your suitcase.

Splitting it in two on the floor, you grabbed your toiletry bag and opened it, looking for your medical supplies. Finally, you found a matching tablet and stood up to face him.

"Will these be of any help?" you asked.

He looked at the box, seeming to recognise the name as he raised his eyes to yours again. "A bit."

You nodded, rising to the sink you had. You opened up his little cabinet just below, and grabbed a glass which you quickly filled with water. You came back to him, knelt down and offered him a tablet and the glass in your hand.

He struggled to sit up with his elbow, taking the tablet from the palm of your hand and placing it on his tongue before taking the glass and drinking it. He seemed thirsty, finishing the entire contents of the glass and handing it to you.

"Need more?" you asked about the glass, but he shook his head before falling back, his forearm resting on his eyes.

You remained kneeling by his bedside, trying to relax. He seemed to be in a bad way, and even if the painkillers were going to take effect in the next thirty minutes, thirty minutes of pain is still hours. Hesitantly, and chewing the inside of your cheek, you couldn't bear the silence.

"Can I help you, please?"

It took a moment for him to clear his forearm of his eyes, his head falling to the side as his eyes rested on yours.

"I have a balm," you conceded, "it might help."

He looked at you for a long moment, considering you, and your cheeks warmed. He seemed to hesitate, probably wondering if it would cause more trouble. You hoped, hoped that he would trust you with such a sensitive and meticulous task. After all, you hadn't always been very delicate in the past.

"It's useless work," he breathed. "It won't make it go away."

You pressed your temple against the wood of the bed's ladder, your two heads asymmetrical in their distance. 

"I can't make the pain go away, but I can at least try to make it more bearable for you."

He said nothing, his eyes never leaving you for a moment. You wondered what he was thinking, whether he too, like you once were, was reluctant to be helped, to leave his vulnerability in the hands of someone like you.

He sighed, finally propping himself up on his elbows, the orange light of his bedside lamp tracing his muscles as his hands pressed against the mattress until he was sitting up, leaving the heaviness of his grunts of pain in the air.

He removed the cover, revealing his leg brace still pressed against his trousers. You moved away from the bed a little, letting him adjust himself as he pleased on the bed as he approached the ladder towards the foot of the bed and pressed himself into it. He let his good leg dangle in the air, grabbing the bad one and steering it gently until his heel touched the floor. The effort seemed to take a lot out of him, making him move for the first time in hours.

You knelt beside him, taking up a position on the side of his bad leg. You observed the different straps and alloys of bolts and metal parts joining and separating. The design seemed complex at first glance, but you remembered how Viktor had positioned it that morning in Demacia.

You turned your head, raising it towards Viktor. His was pressed against the ladder bar, watching you - you were closer than you'd thought. 

"Tell me what to do," you asked, your voice lower than you'd expected.

Under his piercing eyes, you wanted to do the right thing - but more than that, you wanted to make sure you could help him suffer less, make him feel good, make him feel better.

He took a long breath, trying to get past the pain to find his words.

"To remove it, you have to start at the thigh," he explained, his accent drier than usual, "unbuckle the straps all the way to the knee before moving on to the hinge."

You listened attentively, your eyes resting on the aid, before gently moving your hands closer. With your fingertips, you reached up to the smooth strap on his thigh, releasing the strip of brown leather with the greatest of delicacy, leaving the little golden stalk of the buckle spring free as you pulled very lightly on the belt and finally untied the first strap.

"That didn't hurt, did it?" you asked, turning to face him for confirmation.

The ghost of a smile passed over the corner of his lip, and you suspected that if he wasn't in so much pain he'd probably have let it invade his face. With the shadow of his figure covering you, you felt almost feverish.

"You're doing good, Miss," he confirmed.

You tried to ignore the missed beat of your heart at that sentence, simply nodding as you reached for the next strap.

"How often does this happen?" you asked, scratching the leather with the tip of your index finger until you managed to raise the buckle like a hill.

He heaved a sigh, his hand coming to grip the ladder. You turned to him, wondering if you'd done something wrong, but he shook his head to instantly kill the idea.

"Not often," he asserted, bringing his free hand to his forehead to wipe away the meagre sweat. "I thought I'd have enough painkillers for the trip... I didn't expect to be walking that much."

You hummed in understanding as the second loop finally came undone and you reached his knee. Your eyes fell on the mechanism, two thick iron discs encircling each side of his knees, made to ensure that the knee could still be bent but with solid support.

You'd seen him tighten it the other day with a bolt, but which way? And what if, accidentally, because you wanted to loosen it, you tightened it and hurt him more than anything else.

"Inwards," Viktor pointed out, seeming to understand this internal conflict that was occupying you.

You nodded, putting your hand on the disc to turn it towards Viktor, unscrewing it slowly to avoid any sudden movement that might hurt him. You could feel him watching you, his eyes resting on your profile as your fingers worked so frighteningly to take care of him.

You moved on to the second disc on the inside of his leg, leaning a little further to the side without applying any pressure as you stared at the second one. Although you were close to him, you didn't allow any part of your body to come into contact with his. If he was in pain, you wanted to give him his space. You knew very well that, even if sometimes you needed to be close to someone and help them through the pain, being able to be alone in that suffering was a relief.

He breathed heavily when the pressure was relieved and his knee was out of the grasp of his brace. And so you went back to the path of your hands. After hours of walking and pressing for balance, it must have been a relief to leave it out in the open.

You were worried about him, the silence punctuated at times by long sighs and hisses from him, his hand in your peripheral vision tightening around the wood of the ladder. 

"Why didn't you tell me," you began, your hands reaching for smaller straps towards his shin, "earlier?"

He remained silent for a moment, perhaps asking him to talk in this situation wasn't the wisest thing to do. You inwardly insulted yourself for this idiocy, simply returning to your task, when he calmly replied.

"I thought it'd pass," he admitted, eyelids closed. "I seem to have-" he gritted his teeth, mouth open, "overestimated my limits."

Did he come back from every walk and museum visit like this, breathing hard under a throbbing, incessant pain for which he had to wait excruciatingly for the effects of the painkillers to kick in?

You felt guilty, that you hadn't found a way to prevent a situation like this from happening. But you could still help, and you comforted yourself with the idea that even if this help was temporary, any help was welcome.

You soon got to the part about his ankle. "Even if it were to pass," you mumbled, "I could have been there with you, unless you didn't want me to."

You reached for his ankle, the same bolt system you'd encountered towards his knee facing you.

He breathed in as your fingers worked to unscrew them. "I think I would have avoided much torment if you were here, Miss."

Your heart went mushy in your chest. The very idea that Viktor might want you close to him revealed a sweetness in you that you kept seeing coming back. 

Your eyes returned to his when you'd finished unscrewing them. "Then why didn't you ask me to stay?"

He exchanged a look with you, his chest gently rising and falling. There was a shame camouflaged under so much uncertainty and pride, under all those unspoken words.

"The same reason why you left that day."

I didn't want you to see me that way.

You understood much better now, exchanging a knowing glance with him. While you didn't want him to see you in your overflowing, buried violence, he didn't want you to see him weak. You both felt miserable, but neither of you seemed to mind seeing the other like that.

You nodded, letting your fingers undo the very last strap around his foot. Once that was done, you let him pull his leg out of the device. He tried to squeeze a grunt out of his throat as he raised it high enough for you to pull the aid from underneath and place it on the floor.

When he placed his heel and the palm of his foot on the ground, he let out a heavy breath. It must have been a costly effort, and you couldn't wait for the painkiller to take effect.

You turned to Viktor, who was watching you expectantly. Your eyes fell on his trousers. Ah, right. He'd have to take them off before you could apply the balm.

"I'll just, um... yeah," you managed to say as you turned to let him have his privacy.

Kneeling on the floor, you turned around, your back facing him. You straightened up, hearing the distinct sound of his belt buckle coming undone. You listened intently as his back settled on the sheets of his bed, adjusting his hips to slide the bottom of his trousers down his legs, punctuating the air with little grunts of pain. 

You heard the distinct sound of fabric wrinkles meeting the floor, the rustle of sheets echoing in the silence of the room marked by the steady, sizzling sound of the neon emergency exit sign above your bedroom door.

There was silence, but you didn't move. You had no intention of turning around. You could hear that he was motionless at the moment, he'd stopped moving a few long seconds ago, but you weren't going to turn around.

"Could..." you finally heard him say.

You almost shuddered when you heard his voice. He seemed closer than you thought, somewhere behind your back. The end of his sentence never came, and in the silence of the room, you waited.

"Yes?" you finally asked when, despite Viktor's small, compressed breaths, the silence had intensified.

"Um..." it took him a moment to find his words. "I need pyjama trousers."

Your cheeks heated, of course.

You moved almost on your knees, stepping on them as you bent down to reach his suitcase and laid it on the floor, taking the liberty of opening it. Everything was carefully and meticulously arranged.

‘Any preference?’ you questioned, your back still carefully turned to him.

"Plaid," a single word was all he managed to pronounce, and you needed no further questioning to understand that he had an obvious preference for a certain pair.

He'd had the intelligence to arrange his suitcase so that his pyjamas were folded on top of the rest of his clothes so that he didn't need to rummage through his suitcase to find what he needed. 

You grabbed the trousers, soft and wide, your knees sliding uncomfortably against the carpet on the floor, only to reach back and stretch the plaid pants out somewhere in the void behind you. You felt the warmth of fingertips brushing against yours, and your chest felt light.

Turning towards the door again, you waited, recognising the sound of fabric being rolled up into small hems so that one heel rose from the floor to rest there, then the other followed, with more difficulty. The fabric seemed to creep up his calves, Viktor's back meeting the sheets of his bed again with a sigh as he shifted until he had correctly pulled on his trousers.

You remained motionless, your back straight as you waited for him to consent. You had a kind of firm discipline that kept you upright, perhaps unconsciously to show him that you were thorough and meticulous in everything you did - as if he would ever doubt that.

"All good," he finally confirmed.

So you turned to face him again, his eyes on you as he sat on the bed, his hand still gripping the ladder as he hemmed the fabric up to his thigh, partially neatly tucked at the start until the folds were hastily packed at the end. The time for cleanliness wasn't now, what mattered was relief.

You swallowed, trying to keep your eyes from roaming over the bare skin of his body, dotted with moles on his alabaster skin. You pulled your toilet bag towards you, digging around until you found the balm. You uncapped it under Viktor's watchful eye, placing it on the floor as you dipped your finger in to take a honeyed dab from your index finger.

You turned to face him again, approaching his leg gently. Your eyes found his, watching the muscle in his jaw tighten for a moment.

"Where does it hurt the most?" you asked.

He inhaled heavily, his eyes never leaving yours. There seemed to be some hesitation. Perhaps you should have simply handed him the balm, not taken away the possibility of him taking care of it himself. After all, he was the one suffering, he knew without a doubt where his aches were much better than you did. You hoped he wasn't frustrated by the idea of you taking this freedom. And just as you were about to press the dab of ointment still on your finger around the rim of the jar and hand it to him, he cleared his throat.

"The knee," he informed you, breath heavy, "and," his eyes lowered to the ground for a moment, "the ankle."

You nodded, your eyes dropping to his knee. A faint reminiscent indent of the harness tracing his skin with the wrinkles of his previous pants. Had he tightened it too much in the hope of getting a better fit? Whatever the case, you moved your hand closer to his knee. Your fingers were only a few centimetres from his skin, motionless.

"Are you okay with me doing this?" you finally asked.

He exchanged a look with you, the corner of his lips turning up very slightly. Perhaps was his next snide remark going to be directed at you.

"If there's anyone I would want to do this, it's you."

You parted your lips, closing them in surprise as your heart raced up your throat. You cleared it, nodding simply as you repositioned yourself beside him.

"This will feel a bit cold," you warned, "but it'll warm up soon, I promise."

So you finally touched the side of his knee, a hiss escaping his lips. You looked up again, making sure everything was all right, that he wasn't in too much pain. He exchanged a look with you, nodding despite his furrowed brows.

You applied the balm to the surface first, not pressing it into the skin, just covering it and the sides of his knees where you could imagine the support of his brace. The balm was firm and thick, while its strong, fresh scent perfumed the air.

As you began to press more against his skin, he suddenly grabbed your wrist. His grip wasn't firm, just light against your own skin. You stopped all movement, all pressure on his skin, and your eyes met his with concern. Had you hurt him? Had you pressed too hard? 

"Did this hurt?" you asked in an alarmed murmur.

He was breathing heavily, closer to you now, leaning towards you, his back hunched like the arch of a church. He seemed to be catching his breath, going from an open-mouthed breath to a closed one as his teeth clenched.

You sought his gaze, trying to make sure he was all right. He met your eyes again, his face bent over yours, and your breath caught.

"Should I stop?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

You moved your wrist away from what he was still holding, but he tightened his grip on it, preventing you from moving even a little further away. You froze, your eyes fixed on each other.

"No," he finally breathed, his head pressing against the ladder again as he scrutinised you. "Don't stop. Just..." He inhaled softly. "I wasn't prepared."

"Oh," you felt like an idiot, not having warned him before intensifying the pace, "Did I press too hard?"

He shook his head, reassuring you. "No," he sighed, "you're doing perfect, Miss."

Perfect. The title had never sounded so sweet to you.

You'd spent enough years trying to achieve perfection, one success after another to reach the top of the Academy's charts, to always have an answer for everything. And although this title of perfection had been gradually stolen from you over the months by Viktor's arrival, the fact that he was bestowing this title on you himself had a new impact on you.

You let out a breath you'd forgotten you'd been holding in, resuming your work more timidly. You went about it more methodically with your thumbs, gently massaging his taut skin, gently but surely bringing more pressure to massage the balm into his skin as it warmed under your fingers.

He offered another hiss as you moved to a second part of his knee.

"I know it hurts," you whispered, pausing slightly, "but it will stop soon."

The balm scented your fingers with a minty smell, crisp in the air and warm on the skin. You tried to work on his aching muscles gently, the fat of the balm gliding over his skin with ease under your fingers.

He watched you as he slowly relaxed to the sensation, getting used to the slow rhythm you had set. The air no longer knew the weight of pressure, the lightness of your heart intact in your chest as silence filled you without discomfort.

"Where did you get this?" he managed to utter, his hissing and grumbling discomfort greatly diminished as you massaged the balm gently.

You moved on to another part of his knee, your two thumbs now wrapping around it and massaging his muscles.

"In a Demacian shop," you replied, massaging without your gaze leaving his skin, your fingers almost counting the moles on it. "Garen recommended it to me when he was cleaning my wounds..."  

After a final application near his knee, making sure you'd coated the whole area that might be unpleasant for him, you moved on to his ankle, dipping your finger into the jar again to take another dab. 

"There's some that sell it in Zaun, though," you confirmed, tugging at the fabric of his sock and applying the fresh paste to his skin, the contact not seeming to bother him any more than that now. "I used to use it often."

"Really?" he asked, watching you nod. ‘Why?

You shrugged, working gently on the ligaments of his ankle. "Used to get hurt often."

"Why?" he questioned again.

You hesitated, your eyes flickering up to his knee before returning to the spot on his ankle. "Demanding job."

He seemed to be regaining at least his curiosity over the pain. "Mines?" he continued.

"Not exactly," you shook your head, lower lip pressing and curling upwards as you regained his gaze. "I..."

"Can't tell me yet, right?"

There was no condescension in his tone, no impatience, just understanding, and you felt heard.

"Yeah," you smiled softly, letting the silence spread like balm over his skin.

He didn't say anything more, just nodded as you rubbed the rest of the ointment between your hands to let it dissipate before finally pulling his sock up over his ankle.

"How does it feel?" you questioned, your eyes rising to his as you remained kneeling on the floor.

He took a long breath, closing his eyes. "Better," he admitted, "a bit."

"Good," you confirmed. "It's better to have it covered to keep it warm and working."

You tilted your head, your chin pointing towards his pillow. He sighed, offering you his gaze for a moment before he fell back slowly, lying on his side as you had found him. He straightened up for a moment, taking his pillow and turning it over. The sensation of sweat on the other side of it must not have been pleasant. He pulled the blanket up over his navel.

His head fell back onto his pillow, a sigh escaping his lungs as his eyebrows furrowed. The change of position must not have been pleasant at all. 

You had stayed on your knees, shifting them on the floor and letting your hip fall to the ground so that you could sit down.

When he opened his eyes again, they rested on you, as if the possibility of his resting anywhere else was impossible and stupid.

You breathed in, trying in your exhalation to make your heart shrink in your chest. "Is there anything else I could do for you?"

He gazed at you for a moment, before his eyes settled somewhere on the floor. "I could use something to distract the pain, but," he offered, "but I don't think a book is going to be enough." He swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment before they opened again on his suitcase open on its side. "I can't... focus, much."

"Right," you nodded, understanding his situation. 

You thought for a moment. What could you do that would occupy his attention sufficiently until the pain subsided and perhaps he could fall asleep? Reading to him would be pointless, and what's more, you'd potentially be taking away the simple pleasure of reading in silence.

Ask him questions about himself? No, it wasn't an interview. Besides, maybe he didn't want to feel like he was being interrogated.

So what could you do to distract him from the pain in his leg? More often than not, when you had a pain in your body that seemed unbearable, you tried to put your attention on another part of your body to distract him. And there was one thing you could do about it without bringing him more discomfort.

"Well," you began eventually. "It's not much, but... I could read your palm."

From his two furrowed brows, one rose. "You know how to do that?"

"Remember who I grew up with," you remarked, copying his gesture as a small smile tugged at the corner of one of your lips. "I might not be familiar with Tarot much, but I do have the basics of palmistry."

He settled back into his pillow, not taking his eyes off you. "Really?"

"Yes, palms are a one time thing," you pressed your cheek against his mattress for a moment. "The hand, with its hills and rivers, provides a topographical map of life. When it comes to cards, well, they're random. They form an infinity of associations and conclusions that can come from them in so many different settings. All I'll need is your dominant hand."

"I see," his amber eyes rested on you as gently as the sun on the sea, illuminating all the sparks in you. "Well," he extended his right hand towards you, palm skywards, "let's see if my future is as bright as Demacia's glory."

You smiled at his usual sarcasm and moved closer to him, your hand tentatively coming to rest under his as you watched him - it was bigger than yours, and the memories of that feeling made you feel strangely light. 

Had you subconsciously suggested this out of pure desire to feel his hand against yours again, or had you done it out of a curiosity you couldn't quite control?

His knuckles sat pleasantly in your palm, your thumb resting in the hollow of his as you observed the lines and shapes of his hand. You raised your eyebrows at your observations, lifting his hand a little higher in the air to observe its relief.

"Is it that bad?" he asked, puzzled.

You shook your head. "No, it's not bad at all. I'm just looking at your fingers."

"My fingers?" he repeated. "I thought palmistry was, as the name suggests, about the palm."

You smile, continuing your observations. "The whole hand is taken into account for its reading."

"And what are my fingers like?"

You raise your head, making yourself straighter and less arched as your second hand traces the length of his with your index finger.

"You have a square hand," your voice was somewhere between demonstrative and gentle, "which indicates that you have a practical and orderly mind. Stability prevails over everything else, just as prudence is required in financial matters. You respect faith and order, except when the latter is imposed as part of an office job. It is also synonymous with manual dexterity and hard work."

So far, nothing that seemed impossible about Viktor. 

"Where you thrive best can include outdoor activities such as gardening, but also in office occupations such as technology or management, where your organisational skills come into their own. This characteristic can take on a negative aspect when it leads to repetitive and boring tasks, though."

You raised your eyes, checking if you were aiming right. Viktor pressed his lips into a small pout, his eyebrows rising slightly. Correct.

"Your fingers are long," you continued, "so the details get all the attention, but without any pedantry at all. Your fingertips, too, are square, reflecting a down-to-earth, upright personality that likes order and decisive action, without lacking foresight or reflection."

"Much praise," he breathed.

"Of realities," you corrected, glancing at him before observing his fingers again. "The index finger reveals the need to succeed in life. In this case, your finger sticks out beyond your ring finger, and can betray an exaggerated self-esteem, compensated for by great qualities as a leader of men."

‘’Typical me,‘’ he joked as you rolled your eyes and continued reading.

"The middle finger stands between the active tips of the index finger and thumb and the more intuitive tips of the other two fingers. Yours leans towards the ring finger, and therefore introspection." He made no comment, the tips of your fingers moving on to the next one. "The ring finger, its neighbour, is reserved for artistic inclinations. Yours remains straight, and has no great particularity."

"And I could already see myself selling my artworks at exorbitant prices," he then sighed, "I'm going to have to change the whole course of my career."

You sneered. "The little finger, as it happens, expresses the gift of communication in both the private and professional spheres. Usually it reaches the upper phalanx of the ring finger, but yours exceeds it, and therefore forms an indicator of great success in this field."

"I shall ask Jayce to cancel his speech and pass me his notes to present in his stead."

"Finally," you pointed out as your thumb pressed against his, "the thumb is an indicator of inner strength, general energy levels and ego in particular. Yours is short, and doesn't fully reach the lower phalanx of the index finger, showing a lack of self-confidence."

This time he didn't offer you any sly comments.

You pressed your thumb harder against his to test its flexibility. "It's moderately flexible, and indicates practicality and determination."

"I take it we're finally moving on to hand lines?"

You could still have elaborated on the mounts, but you could already feel him relaxing, and that eventually he would fall asleep - after the short night following Fiora's party and the hours spent trying to fall asleep despite the pain stretching him, it wasn't going to take him long to fall asleep. So he might as well give him the more interesting parts.

"Absolutely," you conceded. "The lines on your hand define the paths of life. They indicate time and space, energy and effort, love and lust, war and peace. Like the course of life, they can change from week to week, or month to month. Destiny is not carved in stone: it shows through in the living flesh of the hand."

"And all this resides in my hand?" questioned Viktor, his voice already softening with the weight of sleep, the warmth of the balm seeming to activate as the little twitches and ticks of pain faded from his face.

"Mhm," you hummed in confirmation, your index finger tracing along the line of his skin splitting it in a fairly straight arc from between his index and middle fingers to two-thirds of the way down the side of his hand. "The heart line represents the state of the heart, both emotional and physical," you explained, moving slightly closer to it to get a better look as you tilted his hand so that the palm was properly illuminated. "Yours is splitting at the end."

You felt, gently and somewhat hesitantly, the sensation of his thumb caressing the back of yours. You froze for a moment, not daring to meet his gaze as you felt the soft, circular movements on your skin.

"Is it bad?" he asked, his voice sounding as if it were getting heavier with sleep, or simply tired from such an evening.

You relaxed, strangely, welcoming the sensation on your skin.

"That's positive," you corrected, your voice softer, "it indicates that a practical sense is complementing the other emotions."

"Hmm," was all he replied as his eyes followed your fingers over his skin.

"For your head line," you continued as your index finger drifted gently to the next major line, cutting his palm diagonally in a slight arch from the flank below his index finger and describing a line until it lost itself in the skin of his opposite, plumper flank. "You have a good balance between fantasy and reality, your line is long, a sign of broadmindedness and emotionality."

Your fingers holding his hand slid instinctively along his skin by just a few millimetres, Viktor's chest rising a little higher as he inhaled.

You tried not to let this reaction affect you. "Finally, the lifeline. Yours..." You looked at it with a little melancholy. "Is long, and pale paced with sickness," your eyes lit up though, "but a gradual arrangement." 

"I've always wondered," Viktor asked, voice slower as his eyes struggled to stay open. "Can you predict your death in the palm of your hand?"

"No," you smiled. "The lines change often enough for that kind of accuracy to take place."

He sank a little deeper into his pillow, his hand growing heavier in your palm as sleep gradually overtook him. "I thought you said they were a one time thing."

"Because I don't read palms every fourth morning," you explained. "You could show me your hand again in a month and it might show me something different."

He sighed, exchanging a glance with you for a moment before closing his eyes. "I'll make sure to book a monthly appointment, then."

The idea of seeing Viktor again every month and being able to hold his hand like this, even for just five minutes, made you want the next month to be here already. But for now, you wanted this moment to last. You wanted the time you spent with him to last for hours, and for the thread of time to wrap itself around you both.

Your eyes returned to his palm, watching them a little more to note a few interesting points.

"I think you should get back on your artistic career," you smiled.

He stirred slightly, eyes still closed, voice sleepy. "Really?"

"You have a distinct line here associated with financial, artistic and personal success. It's a sign that your wishes will be fulfilled and perhaps result in a special honour."

"Mhm," Viktor replied simply.

You continued to observe his hand, the crevices, the lines, the dots, the curves rising and falling in certain places.

"You have a few stars," you remarked as you scrutinised his skin, your voice almost audible only to yourself, "all placed on the head line... and heart line."

Your fingertip continued to explore, tracing a few furrows, observing the phalanges of his fingers and their separations, their length, the intensity of the slits.

You barely lifted your head. "I think it's-"

But your sentence never went on, whatever you were going to say dying on your tongue as your eyes fell on Viktor's closed eyes. 

Then you realised the weight of his hand in yours, how the caress of his thumb had faded so long ago, how his breath had become regulated.

You sighed softly, relaxing your shoulders as you tilted your head to the side. He'd managed to fall asleep.

You watched him for a moment, in his serenity and calm. You didn't dare move, didn't dare disturb his comfort with any movement or noise. So you waited. 

During those few minutes of silence, your eyes moved from his hand to his chest, counting the moles on his arms, his shoulders, noting the one on his neck that you'd never noticed and that was probably hiding behind his shirt collars from the Academy.

Your fingers on the back of his hand didn't let go when, with your free hand, you curled a few strands of his hair, still damp from sweat, to the side so that they didn't fall over his eyes - an excuse to check that he truly didn't have a fever, of course.

He had a dark beauty in his sharp, angular figure. You drew attention to the curve of his nose, very slightly twisted to the side, or the way one of his dark circles dipped lower than the other, or the way his cupid's bow wasn't so abrupt.

Why had you never noticed these details? You'd spent so much time with him, and you probably could have gone on never noticing those slight details. So why notice them now?

You felt inside you, though, that there was an undeniable link between all the multitude of sensations you felt when he was around and this question.

It was when you began to tire that you leaned over to the switch on his lamp and turned it off, preparing to stand up and let go of his hand.

But as your fingers gently faded along his skin, ready to let go, you felt his hand wrap around yours - your heart skipped a beat. His fingers curled around yours, caging them in a soft, sleepy embrace.

Viktor stirred slightly in his sleep, but didn't wake up, your shoulders sagging in relief. You didn't dare move, keeping one knee on the ground and the other ready to push yourself to stand, doing nothing.

What could you do? Let go of his hand even though you had no desire to do so and go to bed, or enjoy the sensation a little longer until you went to sleep?

You sighed, then gently pushed yourself onto your knees. You lifted yourself up for a moment, not letting Viktor's hand leave yours as you grabbed your cover from your bunk and came back to kneel on the floor.

With one hand, awkwardly stretching out your duvet until you had it over you, you sat beside him, holding his hand.

You could barely see in the semi-darkness, the light from the exit once again illuminating the room with its neon orange, like a nightlight. 

As before, you sat on the floor with both legs bent, one on top of the other at your side, resting your cheek against his mattress.

You couldn't see him fully with your eyes because of the lack of light. But you could make out the features of his face even with your eyes closed, so well that you could probably draw a portrait of him without a model. Your eyes wandered to your two embracing hands, or at least to the bracelet that Viktor's fingers were offering on your wrist.

It was strange, new for you, to feel all these things and not be able to bury or forget them, or give them a name.

Inside you, warm in your chest, you felt a heart beating as if for the first time. It resounded inside you, deaf to everyone else's ears and omnipresent in yours, whenever Viktor was near you, or you saw him, or he saw you, or you thought about him.

Viktor. Viktor. Viktor.

He was winning a battle against the occupied territory of your mind, eviscerating enemies and traitors who no longer had any place in you to sit and set up useless structures, cutting doubts and impossibilities short without you being able to stop him - or wanting to stop him.

You couldn't remember when you'd fallen asleep, but when you woke up you were lying on the floor. Its hard surface and the pain in your hips and back that it had given you no doubt played a part in waking you up.

When you wanted to massage the discomfort from your head and temple, you found your hand lying on the floor, not far from your eyes, Viktor's fingers brushing against your palm. One of you must have moved in their sleep until they no longer had your wrist hostage, probably you, you assumed.

His hand dangled in the air, his body heavily asleep, his breath peaceful. You lay on your side, your gaze riveted on him in the darkness of the room, which your eyes were slowly getting used to.

In the dim light, you noticed the way his eyebrows were furrowed again. 

What is he dreaming about?

The question had always remained unanswered. 

With your free hand, you gently raised your index finger in the air until you gently placed it between his two eyebrows, gently erasing the wrinkle.

He stirred slightly, and just as you thought he was going to wake up, he simply offered a long sigh, just before his hand, which was still grazing your palm, lightly pressed the backs of his fingers against your skin, like a dreamy caress that lasted only a brief moment.

The heat rose to your cheeks, your chest feeling light at the innocent gesture, until his hand came to a halt and hung in the air without your skins touching again.

You took a deep breath, the discomfort of the floor outweighing the desire to stay like that for the moment. Gently, you slipped your hand out of Viktor's reach, pressing it against the floor before pushing yourself to your feet, numb. 

You grabbed your duvet, swinging it over your bunk as you silently climbed the rungs of your ladder two by two and lay down in your bed. You thought you'd fall asleep quickly, but you struggled to do so for a few moments as your mind kept replaying the scene in a continuous loop.

What woke you up for good this time was not the sound of the alarm as on the outward journey, but the sensation of something warm on your arm.

You struggled to open your eyes, squinting and frowning at the light that filled the room as you tried to clear the blur from your eyes to see better ahead. 

Your gaze caught the distinctly brown colour of Viktor's hair, his features solidifying before your eyes as you snapped back to reality. He had placed his hand on the rail of your bed, his cheek resting on the back of it.

"Miss, it's getting late now," you heard him say, his voice close to a whisper.

Then you recognised the warmth on your arm, the feeling of his hand passing through the fabric to gently move you away from too much sleep.

You turned onto your back, his hand finally moving away from you as you put your forearm over your eyes.

"What time is it?" you croaked, surprised that you'd managed to line it up as a question as you rubbed the crust from your tiredness out of your eyes.

"Almost midday," he informed you.

You stopped moving, suddenly feeling fully awake as you turned to face him, propped up on your elbows.

"What?" you choked out.

He hadn't moved from his position, except to bring his chin to his knuckles. "Mhm."

"Why didn't you wake me earlier?" you exclaimed as you climbed out of bed, descending the steps of your ladder until you reached the mirror and tried to fix your appearance.

"Because there was no alarm for any students," Viktor remarked, standing by the bed, pressing his arm against it for balance, "and you looked like you needed it."

"I didn't miss Heimerdinger's class, right?" you questioned, turning to him.

He shook his head. "No classes today."

You frowned, moving away from the sink, the anxiety beating in your ears suddenly calming down. "No classes today?"

"You heard that right," he confirmed, pushing away from the bed to take a step towards you.

Heimerdinger must have fallen into line with the usual weekly timetable. Given that it was a Saturday, he considered this day to be part of the weekend, and therefore undoubtedly a break for him.

You breathed out a long breath, the stress and tension leaving your taut muscles as soon as it came. 

Viktor was watching you, standing straight in front of you, his mood profoundly different from the previous day. After the night before, you weren't expecting to wake up to him like this. You wondered if he remembered anything while he was asleep, or if he'd slept like a log.

Your eyes landed on his leg, which wasn't wrapped up in his brace like it had been for the whole of that week.

"How's your leg?" you asked anyway.

He smiled at you, and your cheeks flushed. "Better," he confirmed, "thanks to you."

You shook your head, your eyes moving from the floor to his remade bed and then back to him. "It was nothing."

He arched an eyebrow. "I wouldn't call taking care of my leg, giving me painkillers and managing to give me a good distraction from this torment, enough for me to fall asleep 'nothing'."

You kept your eyes from rolling to the sky. "Maybe it's not nothing," you conceded, "but you would have done the same for me." You breathed softly, your gaze settling on his as you managed to remain upright. "And you did."

Apart from the fact that it was a token of gratitude to him for the treatment he had given you when you were sick to death, it was also a token of the fact that he too could get help from you.

Mutual aid, that's what you had offered each other and what you had given each other.

Viktor said nothing for the moment, his lips parting before closing again. You wondered at what point he had stopped paying attention to what you were teaching him in your distraction from him.

Your stomach felt hollow, your extended sleep having apparently opened up your hunger. Your eyes rested on your suitcase for a moment, then returned to his.

It didn't take him long to understand what you were trying to tell him. A simple glance exchanged with you was enough for him, your gazes going beyond the limit of language.

"I'll see you in the common room?" he asked.

You nodded. "Okay."

He gave you the ghost of a smile before turning away towards the door. As he passed you, you heard him whisper : 

"Thank you, Miss."

And so he left the room, and you held yourself back from running to your bed to bury your head in your pillow and bite it or scream into it or hit it or anything. You felt so light, for a simple conversation, a simple touch from him, a simple attention. 

You concentrated, trying to regain your composure. It seemed to you that every instance in his presence had become a blessing, the cracking of an opening in you that was unfolding a little more every day, a bud awakening in its featherbed ready to blossom.

You pulled yourself together, straightening up and inhaling heavily before finding the strength to look for something to change yourself. You found your suitcase closed on the floor, the latter containing your toiletry bag that you had taken out the day before with the balm in it. Viktor had to put the latter away while you were sleeping, and just this attention seemed touching to you.

You took out your outfit for the day, changing quickly as the hunger began to sincerely gnaw at you in your stomach. Your eyes rested on your deck of cards, sighing heavily as you decided to quickly draw one before the start of this day.

An idea was beginning to creep into your mind, an idea that terrified you as much as it reassured you - because on the one hand, you were facing a terrain that you knew from afar, but on the other hand you finally knew what these effects were that took you so keenly.

The card that fell was The Star. You hurried to read the description of it.

The calm after the storm. Healing and renewal. Ultimate peace, but active and not passive. Creative inspiration. Summoning the muse. Clarity and vision.

It seemed quite positive, you thought, beating heart.

The Star appears after the tumultuous Devil card and that of the Tower. The Star brings a feeling of calm and serenity, as if the storm had passed. The thunder and the rain are gone. It's the ultimate feeling that everything will be fine. The Star is also the card of direct communication with the muse. This is a particularly important card for writers and artists. This is the archetype of inspiration. The female figure is naked, which implies vulnerability and openness. Its freely flowing waters imply openness. The bird in the tree offers spiritual communication. The stars above are a million bright suns, galaxies of hopes and possibilities.

Kneeling on the floor, you could feel your heart beating in your chest. These feelings that ran through your body, pumped your heart, brought warmth where there had been so little, was it ... what you imagined?

There was a moment when, out of frustration perhaps, you hoped to go back to the time when you hated him because at least you would know how you felt.

You shook your head, dismissing this possibility for the moment. You weren't fully awake, not enough for that anyway. 

Thus you went to the common room, lunch was already starting to prepare while the students were eating on some tables near the windows of the airship. You were helping yourself, filling your tray to fill your screaming stomach before coming to take a seat at Viktor and Jayce's table.

“Morning sleepy head!" greeted Jayce with his usual enthusiasm.

“The Golden Boy seems to be recovering Piltovian colors,” you remarked as you took a seat on one of the chairs near Viktor.

"Demacia is nice of course," he conceded, "but I have to admit that I miss the Academy. Plus, it's strange to barely be back to your apartment and leave it right after.”

"It is not even completely cleaned," Viktor added, already considering the amount of work that'd need to be done for it.

“You guys know where to find me if you need help moving things around," you offered them. 

“Of course, you will be the first guest!"Jayce confirmed. “And considering the way we are moving forward, it will be sooner than you think.”

“What do you mean?” you questioned as you brought the first bite of your meal to your lips.

“The wind is very favorable for us, we will be back in Piltover even faster than on the way out. We should reach the docks at sunset.”

“Hmm," you understood, remaining silent as you focused your attention on this breakfast that had become lunch.

You were fighting the idea that filled your mind by filling your stomach with your meal, but this strategy seemed to work only partially, or at least only very momentarily when your thoughts came back at full strength regarding the person sitting right next to you whose hand you had held to fall asleep only the night before.

“Won't you miss Demacia?" Jayce still questioned.

You shook your head, pressing your hand to your lips as you finished your bite.

“Given everything that's happened, it's not surprising," he conceded. “Although in the end everything doesn't seem to have been so bad with Fiora, does it?”

You were swallowing, nodding from the head. “She's nice, but I wouldn't make a breeding farm of her.”

"Please, let's not make more like her,” Viktor sighed.

You couldn't help but smile, turning to him. “Oh, come on, Vikkie. Don't you miss her?”

You pressed the nickname with the same accent as Fiora's, and Viktor turned to you with a black, playful look, and your heart jumped in your chest.

No, you were telling yourself, it's not possible.

Your smile disappeared from your face in a flash as you resumed the course of your lunch. 

It didn't take long for Sky to join you, sitting down with you and continuing your discussion while you remained silent.

The rest of the journey continued in various conversations of the students in the common room, each bringing back their favorite memories of the stay, or the moments that had made them laugh the most. Some showed their purchased souvenirs, others rehashed the historical events brought by Professor Heimerdinger that had marked or fascinated them.

As for you, you were trying to tear out each of these thoughts that you associated with Viktor.

A student remembering all-you-can-eat buffets in the morning? Your thoughts centered on the indirect contact of your lips and Viktor's.

The mention of the visit to the museum the day after your fight with Fiora? You associated it with the discussion you had with him, so close.

Anyone recounting the evening at Fiora's? You immediately thought back to the seven minutes in heaven that you had spent in his company.

At every corner of the street and thoughts, he hung around in your mind. You did everything in your power to never meet his gaze, finding a way to deflect it or avoid it in any way.

When time came to pack your bags, you were almost fleeing to your shared room, taking out your coat and scarf while the announced temperature promised much cooler weather in Piltover than in Demacia.

You barely had time to meet Viktor again in the hallway when you rushed to the common room with your belongings.

You had to get out of here, had to walk to your apartment and digest these ideas that were swirling in your mind. You found Sky, ready to leave too and find the comfort of your apartment.

You were talking for a moment about the upcoming tasks. All the laundry, errands, preparations for the next classes and homework – it was a busy schedule.

The students all gathered, watching the sunset decline on a sea of clouds as The Young Prince finally landed on Piltover. After a small hum and a very slight landing vibration, the green light was given for you to leave.

One by one, the students passed in front of each other to get off, dragging all their suitcases passing from the carpeted floor of the airship to the metallic rumble of the gangway, the cold biting you all on the cheeks.

Outside, once all the students had left, Heimerdinger took advantage of everyone being gathered for a last speech.

“My dearest students, the Dematian adventure therefore ends here. It was a week filled with cultures and enrichment that, I am sure, will remain in our minds forever. I thank you all for your exemplary behavior,” his little mischievous look passed over yours as he said these words, "and for your willingness to bond with the Dematians.”

Some students sniffed, partly by the cold, another by the grief that all this was coming to an end.

“Good. We shall talk about it all in classes on Monday. Thank you very much, and have a nice weekend!”

Some of the students applauded, Heimerdinger did the same, and it was the time of the aurevoirs. Sky hugged Orcelyia tightly, while your eyes found Viktor and Jayce. 

Viktor was watching you, seeming intrigued. He had no doubt noticed this perpetual escapade that you had just begun to maintain, and his frown seemed to convey that he did not appreciate this initiative at all.

You were swallowing, smiling all the same when Jayce came to take you in his arms until you choked from it, promising you that you would be invited to their apartment as soon as they were done with the last little details.

Viktor observed you, silent for a moment as he tried to determine what might be tormenting you, before his face relaxed – an abandon to this research, but a momentary one.

“Thank you again, Miss, for your help," he ends up saying anyway.

You nodded, slightly tense and with a beating heart. “It was my pleasure," you assured, trying to keep your voice steady and distinctly intelligible.

Jayce arrived to wrap his arm around Viktor's shoulder. “We'll see you in classes!” he said as the two began to leave towards the Piltovian taxis, and that you could finally breathe again.

They had this luxury of being able to afford it. As for you and Sky, you chose to walk to the apartment.

After all these days of walking, you wish you didn't have to do it again. But there was no choice. At least, for your comfort, you could delay the groceries a little since you had frozen some dishes in your freezer to prevent them from perishing while you were away.

When you finally reached the apartment after a few small conversations cut short by fatigue, you first checked to see if you had received any letters. Besides some advertising flyers, you found among this pile of paper a letter with a stamp that you recognized only too well – a metallic black, the letter E pressed on a tough wax.

You frowned, holding the letter in your hands anxiously as you passed through the hall doors and let yourself be engulfed by the warmth of the hearth in the center of the common room. What was troubling you was the weight of the letter - light as a feather.

You were coming up the stairs, an orchestra of huffs and grumbling taking you both when you had only one desire – to lay in your beds.

You stuffed the key to the apartment with almost too much impatience, and finally opened the door to your home. You both left your suitcases by the entrance, each of you coming to collapse on your beds.

As the mattress embraced your whole body, you felt all strange. You couldn't think of anything else, the star card kept coming back to your head while the Two of Cups were joining up on it.

These two characters represented on the card, this shared cup, these stars that multiplied on his palm and on the cards – it was difficult now to have any doubt about it.

You had feelings for Viktor.

All this time that you had spent hating him, then tolerating him, seemed immensely distant as the ghostly sensation of his fingers against yours came back to your mind and you pressed your whole face against your pillow.

What you thought was an allergy was immensely worse. With an allergy, there normally was a treatment, but a treatment for feelings? You didn't know if that existed.

Was it so much a problem that you had feelings for him? After all, there was no harm in it. But at the same time, there was all this newness, all these unknown possibilities that awaited you in the face of this.

You and Sky spent a little while like this, reveling in the comfort of your bed until you finally found the strength to get up to take out your frozen meals, preparing two plates to stuff in the microwave - it was more a desire to distract you and change your mind from thinking of this realisation than anything else.

While the first plate was heating up and Sky was leaving for the bathroom, you grabbed Eris's letter. You broke the seal with a simple snap, opening the envelope.

You pinched the little paper and unfolded it, much less provided with text than usual. Something was wrong.

Got news from Renata. Children have not only gone missing in Zaun, but it started in Piltover too. Come to my shop the weekend after you get back from your trip. He's back in business.

Eris

You were closing the letter, a heavy breath falling on your lungs. Why did the ghosts of the past have to perpetually catch up with you as soon as things got better?

✦﹒ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

✦﹒ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt @enoojnij @stilinskisensation @emlovesya @soupsaurus @luvreadingfics @the-valars-sapphire @solbringer @adorabluesposts @pxszels @nerolovesseongjiyuk @cyberwears @cryptidcut @seohaepeachyun @danielsbackupglasses @2hiigh2cry @16novvs @cicadastoner @patchs-curiosity-corneriosity-corner @w41k3r-94290 @minniiv @roku907 @lumilarity @peachy-writings @disturbyn @ddandelionfluff @holymotherfxrkingshirtballs @notyuralycat @glenn-slayer @k07ume @hexb0nes @ravngers @fushirika @glenn-slayer @watergirl13girl @graveyardtrain @theuclid @catspook @mildly-discouraging-future @nataliea @frogbuggy

[the-bluebird-you-need]

Only counting everyone's canon studio albums. Wings is counted for Paul. There were some date discrepancies, I had to decide what made the most sense in those cases. They will all be listed below the cut in date of the year order.

January 10 Look Up (R)

January 12 Y Not (R)

January 14 Liverpool 8 (R)

January 17 Yellow Submarine (B)

January 27 Milk and Honey (J)

January 30 Ringo 2012 (R)

February 1 Off the Ground (P)

February 6 Kisses on the Bottom (P)

February 14 George Harrison (G)

February 17 Rock 'n' Roll (J)

March 22 Please Please Me (B)

March 25 Ringo Rama (R)

March 26 Wings at the Speed of Sound (P)

March 27 Sentimental Journey (R)

March 31 London Town (P), Postcards from Paradise (R)

April 17 McCartney (P)

April 21 Bad Boy (R)

April 26 Tug of War (P)

May 4 Red Rose Speedway (P)

May 5 Flaming Pie (P)

May 8 Let It Be (B)

May 16 McCartney II (P)

May 17 Ram (P)

May 22 Time Takes Time (R)

May 26 Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (B)

May 30 Venus and Mars (P), Living in the Material World (G)

June 1 Somewhere in England (G)

June 4 Memory Almost Full (P)

June 5 Flowers in the Dirt (P)

June 7 Choose Love (R)

June 8 Back to the Egg (P)

June 12 Some Time in New York City (J)

June 16 Old Wave, Vertical Man (R)

July 10 A Hard Day's Night (B)

August 5 Revolver (B)

August 6 Help! (B)

August 25 Press to Play (P)

September 7 Egypt Station (P)

September 9 Imagine (J)

September 12 Chaos and Creation in the Backyard (P)

September 15 Give More Love (R)

September 17 Ringo's Rotogravure (R)

September 20 Ringo the 4th (R)

September 22 Extra Texture (G)

September 25 Beaucoups of Blues (R)

September 26 Abbey Road (B)

September 29 Walls and Bridges (J)

October 4 Run Devil Run (P)

October 11 New (P)

October 19 I Wanna Be Santa Claus (R)

October 22 Give My Regards to Broad Street (P)

October 25 What's My Name (R)

October 27 Stop and Smell the Roses (R)

October 29 Mind Games (J)

October 31 Pipes of Peace, CHOBA B CCCP (P)

November 2 Cloud Nine (G), Ringo (R)

November 5 Gone Troppo (G)

November 12 Driving Rain (P)

November 15 Goodnight Vienna (R)

November 17 Double Fantasy (J)

November 19 Thirty Three & 1⁄3, Brainwashed (G)

November 22 With the Beatles, The White Album (B)

November 27 Magical Mystery Tour (B), All Things Must Pass (G)

November 30 Band on the Run (P)

December 3 Rubber Soul (B), Wild Life (P)

December 4 Beatles for Sale (B)

December 9 Dark Horse (G)

December 11 John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band (J)

December 18 McCartney III (P)

[yourtypicalhuman09]

Hay it's me again 🌞

And I came back with some more ideas that may help in working on your story.

1. the game reader wants to give it a culture that doesn't get represented a lot or get represented in the wrong way full of wrong things. For example Like how native Americans are always represented as the wise one connected to nature or the savage and we don't see their cultures and all or how when they always talk about Egypt and the Roman they only speak about their ancient civilizations with zero representation of their current culture in the West.

2. Or put your own culture. The love of seeing people put pieces of themselves into their work.

3. Imagine if the game was about a ballet dancer and that made Cass think at first that the reader took inspiration from her but in reality it's not true. Maybe the reader gave the protagonist of the game that parent who always tells her she's not good enough but in this the reader shows their conflict with themselve whit the mother being that voice in your head that tells you you're not good enough.

4.Imagine if the game the reader made may be about a ballerina but the game is not about ballet. Maybe it's a horror game or something like that like cosmic horror.

5. If the friend of the reader is an older brother figure he has younger siblings, and if his a Younger brother figure he has older siblings. I remember people chose him as an older brother figure. So imagine him naturally falling into older brother behavior. Also, imagine he has a sister and he keeps coming to her room to annoy her. From what I know brothers do that all the time to their sisters. Oh I can imagine Dick's and Jason's seeing reader having siblings dainamic with this boy and realizing how they treat her worse than a stranger. Same for Damian when reader get to befriend the Younger siblings.

6. Imagine if the Reader got attacked by a small or big criminal and she/they beat the life out of them. Red Hood hears screams and when he goes to check it out he finds the reader beating the joker with a ✨crowbart✨. Imagine Batman and Robin also seeing that.

7. imagine Bruce hearing the reader say to a friend something like "if someone rape me I'll kill them". I heard about a woman using this line to sniff out who is okay whit rape and stuff like that, especially among men. I can imagine the reader being more like Alfred in the fact they are ready to kill if needed.

8. the mother and father of the friend are a power couple giving the reader a good example of a healthy relationship. The poor one needs that after having playboys of a father and brothers. If that may affect the plot of the friend back story you can make that one of the siblings of the parents have a healthy relationship with their partner.

9. Reader know what it's like to have a real grandfather figure because of the grandpa of the friend. There's a saying that the grandparents love and look after their grandkids more than their kids. Alfred should feel the 🌸pain🌸 and not be of the hook of the consequences of his actions and lack of actions. Most neglected readers have some form of attachment to Alfred aven when they are aware of how his allowing this to keep happening and sense this is a reader in a healing journey it only makes sense that she gets rude of the unhealthy attachment she has to this man.

10. (This came from the papular reader ask) Reader ending up having a community of their own and a long line of friends and allys. I mean imagine she helped an ender classmate getting better grades then- boom! they now know the students parents and always buy from their bakery. In fact, they'd work there part time to get extra money. A dudes phone died before he was about to pay for his order using it in reader's shift so they decided to pay for it because it's not his fault and the poor dude wanted to get the small cakes to celebrate his friend's birthday- BOOM! turned out to be a gang leader and feel he owed them a favor. Now the entire gang is like "don't touch that one they're a good kid." And it keeps going like that.

I hope you like my ideas and please take your time in this and take care of yourself 🤗

omg yay im so happy to hear your ideas 🌞 anon! Sorry for the late reply school had been absolutely killing me😭✋. Anyways onto the replies!

I can totally see this happening. When i think of a character like the reader in my fic healing, i think of part of it as them opening their eyes to the world. For the longest time the reader had been stuck in their own little world trying to impress their neglectful family, but after realizing that they didnt have to impress anyone they start to open their eyes and see how big the world is and how much they missed out on. Due to this i can totally see them getting a hyper fixation on culture and traditions because they themself never really had one. Their family was neglectful so they never really had any tradition until cyrus and his family came in but thats later lol.

due to their hyper fixation on cultures and people i can totally see them having fun making up their own culture and civilization for their game.

dance and music plays a huge part in culture so i can totally see the reader having the protagonist in their game to be a dancer. Also itd be hilarious to see Cass misunderstand and embarrass herself 😂.

lol itd be super funny to see the batfam see how dark the reader’s mind is, seeing how horrific and gory their horror game would be. Itd def be 18+ due to all of the gore and body horror.

cyrus (thats the reader’s friend in case you didn’t know) definitely has a big family with lots of diverse personalities. Reader would see the family go through the good and the bad, but also see how they always make up and stay together. At first reader would definitely be jealous but, after time passes and they get closer, they see that the family sees them as family too (reader would definitely ask cyrus’ parents to adopt them lol💀). After the batfam see how far reader has drifted into another family’s arms the jealousy and regret would be through the roof.

reader is definitely a bad ass, after taking so many extracurriculars like martial arts they’d definitely kick ass😂. The batfam would be so shocked too like who is this diva😍😍😍.

once reader gets comfortable with themselves and other people i can definitely see them be out of pocket like this. Also reader is definitely a morally grey character, in the poll i posted for the type of reader people chose a cold reader, and although they heal and get better they cant erase their past and still impacted by it because in the end theyre still human.

cyrus’ parents are definitely a power couple, like they have communication, love, and open minds. Of course they fight sometimes but they always talk it out and make sure that their kids are ok after. They themselves have grown throughout their life journey and have learned from their own and their parents’ mistakes. They are very big on communication and understanding other people’s perspectives so i feel like they have a very good relationship with not just themselves but also other people. Youll see when i get to write about them as the story progresses.

the grandpa figure for reader is so goated tbh. I have a notes list of all of my ideas for my fic and the ideas i have for him are so wholesome. Grandparents typically have more free time and are sweeter to their grandchildren, so time with the grandparents are always so fun. Reader will finally experience grandma’s family famous cookies, fishing with grandpa, and just chilling on the patio enjoying the view and each other’s company. And as I established in the fic, reader does not have a good opinion on alfred at all. To them he’s a coward and only sees reader as a way to release his guilt for leaving his own daughter. Reader definitely prefers their new family and it kills alfred and the batfam.

this is such a funny and cool idea. Reader is definitely always unintentionally helping people. Although they are morally grey, they do have a moral code and if you dont do anything that affects them negatively they wont do anything. Reader knows what its like to be alone and have no one to help them so they definitely try to help others when they can (although theyre very nonchalant about it lol😭). Its not their classmate’s fault that the classwork hasn’t clicked for them yet, they just need a little help and its their duty as class president and as a human being to help those in need. And it wasnt that guy’s fault that his phone died at such an inconvenient time so it was no problem to pay for the cakes, plus they didnt cost much either so no biggie. This is all definitely a way for reader to cope with their neglected background.

once again thank you for sharing your ideas 🌞 anon i always enjoy them! And for those who have sent in requests ill be working on them and posting them soon including the next chapter of my fic, since my spring break is this coming week so ill have much more time to write. Anyways like always thank you for reading and have a good day/night!❤️❤️❤️

[thelargefrye]

CLEOPATRA … mature one - shot | part one

pairing : ateez x f!reader

genre : mature, fantasy, royalty, ancient egypt inspired setting, smut

word count : 6k

warnings : language, heavy nudity (sexual and non-sexual), yn is viewed as a descendant of the gods, infidelity (its a loveless marriage but they are still married), drinking

smut warnings : unprotected sex, multiple smut scenes (3 total), slight exhibitionism, oral (f), mentions of past pregnancy sex, some of the guys have a breeding kink, masturbation, slight cum eating

honorary suffer tag : @sanjoongie

inspired by this tiktok.

you had power that no man could ever imagine. as such you bowed to no one. you were known throughout the continent as the ruler that would protect her country no matter the cost.

hongjoong let out a frustrated sigh, a hand running through his black locks as he walked down one of the many corridors of the extravagant palace. he walks in long strides, ignoring all the servants that pause and bow at him. he'll feel bad about not acknowledging them later, but right now he's on a mission.

he approaches your private quarters, yunho standing guard outside of your chambers doors like always. that's tells him that you are at least in your chambers. wherever you are is where yunho will always be.

when hongjoong comes closer to your chambers, that's when yunho finally turns to look at the first prince consort. his eyes sharp and always on guard.

"her highness is a little busy at the moment, your highness," yunho's voice is just as stoic as his eyes, cold and on guard.

"i don't care, this is important," hongjoong brushes him off and yunho does nothing to stop him from entering. not that he would anyways, hongjoong is one of the few people aside from yourself that the guard would listen to.

hongjoong doesn't waste a second in bursting through the doors to your quarters. the highly decorated chambers shows how you are the ruler of isis and descendant of the gods. the gold lining the room was something one of the first rulers of the country had done in order to show how important and godly they were. hongjoong remembers you mentioning several times how you hate the over the top gold in the room and how you desperately want it gone.

however, your father would probably come back from the underworld if you ever tried to change anything about the pharaoh's private quarters.

hongjoong is knocked out of his thoughts when he is greeted by the sight of you riding wooyoung. hongjoong can't help but feel his mouth run dry at the sight of you energetically bouncing on wooyoung's cock. your breast bouncing and he watches wooyoung squeeze one of them, the other slapping your ass and gripping and squeezing the flesh tightly. hongjoong feels himself getting hard from the scene in front of him. you always looked like you were glowing when one of them fucked you.

a beautiful goddess surrounded with nothing but love and he would gladly worship you for the rest of his life if he could.

but not right now, right now he needed to speak with you.

"y/n," his voice breaks through the lustful atmosphere in the room. you turn your head to look at your first husband, a parchment gripped in his hands from the news he had received from a guard. you falter your speed for a second, distracted by hongjoong's appearance and wooyoung takes this moment to flip the two of you over.

your head now at the foot of large, silk covered bed, legs now bent over the top half of your body as wooyoung pounds into your pussy. his hips moving at a first pace that has your eyes rolling back from the feeling. you can feel him hitting the deepest parts of your pussy, almost like he was about to penetrate into your womb. not that you would mind.

"ho-hong-joong~" you moan out, looking at your husband, mouth open in the perfect o-shape.

"hey, hey, hey! don't be saying his name when i'm balls deep inside of you!" wooyoung pouted making you whine when he did an extra hard thrust inside of you.

"y/n, something urgent has come up," hongjoong says, completely ignoring the fact that you and wooyoung were still fucking.

"w-what's wrong?" you ask, watching as hongjoong moves closer to you and wooyoung, now standing the end of the bed. you have to crane your head back in order to look at him upside down. you notice the look of concern over his face and you use one of your hands to reach for his. intertwining your hands together.

"there's been news about the minerva empire wanting to invade isis and take over," hongjoong says. "some of our spies have sent word about minerva's emperor planning something."

"minerva's emperor? isn't he that old bastard who was about to keel over?" you ask, remembering the emperor seonghwa had described to you during his travels several years ago.

"apparently he died two years ago and their new emperor is suppose to be this great war general. they've been invading and conquering smaller countries, adding to their empire," hongjoong tells you and the sudden news of this former war general has caught your attention.

it seems to have caught wooyoung's as well, as your second husband has seemingly stopped fucking you in favor of listening to hongjoong. wooyoung moves off of you in favor of relaxing against the silk pillows that laid fluffed at the head of your bed. you sat up, turning to face hongjoong with neither you nor wooyoung opting to cover up your bare bodies.

"a new emperor?" you said, tilting your head in wonder at this news. "i'm not worried, joongie, isis is a great empire that can not be invaded that easily," you tell him, running your hand down his chest. your fingers grazing over the soft fabric of his tunic.

"but y/n this is serious!" you notice the worry in his tone at the thought of the minerva empire even thinking of invading your home, his home, and your daughter's home.

"joong–

"why don't you just invite this new emperor here and throw a banquet for him?" wooyoung speaks up after having remained silent. you both turn to see wooyoung lounging behind you, hands behind his head like he had no care in the world. "if you invite him and show off the amount of power you and isis hold, then maybe that will make him think twice about invading."

"you mean assert dominance?" hongjoong asks and wooyoung nods.

"wow, wooyoung, that's pretty smart," you say, a teasing smile on your face as your crawl towards him and settle down next to him.

wooyoung lets out a small 'tsk' sound at your words, "give me more credit, dove, i'm smarter than i look," he teases back, wrapping his arms around you.

"joongie, call seonghwa and my advisor. let's send out an invite to our new little emperor," you say, a smile overtaking your features. hongjoong looks like he wants to say something, and you wait for him to but he changes his mind. he simply nods his head before turning heading for the door to summon seonghwa and your advisor.

seonghwa was a little worried when a servant had come to him while he was with his daughter, telling him that you had summoned him. his daughter's nanny was quick to take her out of his arms. seonghwa makes sure to press a quick kiss to the top of her head before he is bidding her goodbye and taking his leave.

when he approaches your chambers, jongho trailing behind him, he is greeted with the sight of yunho and yeosang both standing guard now at your door.

"is everything alright?" seonghwa asks the two guards.

yeosang is the one to speak up to answer the consort, "the pharaoh as requested for you and her advisor. prince consort hongjoong and prince consort wooyoung are already inside."

seonghwa can't help but raise his eyebrow at the guard's words, but nonetheless goes into your quarters. when he enters, he finds you and wooyoung wrapped in your golden robes, it being quite obvious that you are bare underneath. you're sitting at your table by the balcony doors which are open and letting in the warm afternoon air. hongjoong is standing next to you and wooyoung is still on your bed.

your advisor is sitting on a stool next you, writing your words down as you say them.

"what's going on?" seonghwa asks, earning the attention of everyone in the room, say for your advisor.

"her highness and wooyoung have had the amazing idea of inviting the enemy into our home to throw him a banquet," hongjoong says and you can all hear the irritation in his voice. you ignore him.

"there's rumors of the minvera empire and their new emperor wanting to invade isis, so i'm inviting him to show him that it is not something he wants to do," you explain to seonghwa, watching as he comes up to you.

seonghwa takes your hand, pressing a firm kiss to it before he is sitting down in chair across from you. "new emperor?" he asks, echoing your words and he sees hongjoong nod his head.

"apparently he's a great war general. what did you say his name was?" you ask, looking towards hongjoong and your advisor.

"san," hongjoong answered.

"ah, yes! emperor san," you say, a bright smile on your face; however, you three husbands can tell how this is not a genuine smile and that you are hiding something behind it. something that none of them have figured out yet.

"san..." seonghwa says trailing off, trying to remember if he's heard that name before. "ah! that's the name of the general that led minerva into victory during their takeover of the apollo kingdom," seonghwa says once the memory finally came to him.

"oh? that was him?" you ask, sounding impressed by the information you just learned.

"y/n, are you sure you want to invite him? what if they try to attack while inside the kingdom?" seonghwa asks, voice his concern that both him and hongjoong now have.

"hmm," you trail off for a moment, not saying anything, but clearly thinking, "yunho!" your voice is loud and commanding and the doors to your chamber open to the sight of your personal guard coming into the room.

you beckon the guard over and he walks to you before kneeling down next to you, "yes, my pharaoh?" he asks, eyes looking downward to the ground as to not disrespect you. it was known that anyone that wasn't one of your consort husbands could never make eye contact. it was forbidden to look at a descendant of the gods like they were on the same level as any other human.

"if there was an enemy inside the kingdom, would you kill them the second they tried to bring harm to me and the kingdom?" you ask, hand combing through the guard's dark locks and brushing them away from his eyes. despite him not making eye contact with you, you can't help but admire yunho's eyes.

"yes, my pharaoh. i would kill anyone for you," he says making a large grin stretch onto your face as you look from your personal guard to your two worried husbands.

"woobin," your advisor snaps to attention at the call of his name, "finish writing and send out the invitation to emperor san immediately."

"i can't believe the bastard agreed to come," hongjoong says as he lets out an annoyed sigh despite sinking into the warm water of the large bath that him, seonghwa, and wooyoung shared.

the bathhouse was the one place that you never entered, it was only for the prince consorts and any sons that they had with you. a place for only them to sit and relax in. the place decorated like the rest of the castle, after you had made servants redo the bath after your father and grandfather had left it to basically fall apart. your husbands deserved a place to relax in peace and you would be damned if they had to suffer through a bathhouse room like your mother and your father's other wives had to.

"of course he did, it was an open invitation to come and take a look at the country without the worry of losing men," seonghwa says as he relaxed next to hongjoong who had a deep frown on his face. "y/n knows what she's doing, maybe we should just trust her," he adds.

"she has a plan, i could tell from her face," hongjoong sighs, "i'm just annoyed that i don't know what she's thinking."

"have a little more faith in our pharaoh, you two," wooyoung's voice echos as he walks into the bath. hongjoong can't help but roll his eyes at wooyoung who is once again naked, not bothering to even cover himself with a towel like the other two have.

"wooyoung, can you be any more shameful?" seonghwa asks, looking away from the younger male who walks down the white marble steps and into the water.

"yah, don't be jealous, hwa, green isn't your color," wooyoung teases as he settles into the water. "but i think you two are doubting y/n. she knows what she's doing, she has been pharaoh for a while now," he adds looking at his fellow consorts.

"i'm just worried is all. i don't want anyone to be in danger," seonghwa says voicing his main concern. he's worried that this emperor will try to not only harm you but also your children. he would die if something happened to his daughter.

"you're not the only one worried, hwa," wooyoung says, snapping the eldest out of his thoughts. "i'm worried about the enemy coming here as well, but i also trust y/n."

"i guess you're right," hongjoong says, finally speaking back up after watching the two go back and forth. "we should trust y/n and her decisions, but the worry will still be there."

you couldn't help the breathy moan that ripped through your throat as you threw your head back onto the lush amount of pillows. you had to try your best to not close your legs around yunho's head, knowing that he would stop if you didn't keep your legs open.

his tongue continued to lick your pussy, at this point basically making out with your lower lips. his nose continuously nudging your clit and adding to the stimulation that coursed through your lower half, sending a warmth through your entire body.

"hmm~ yunho!" you moan out, tugging at his dark locks causing him to let out a groan that vibrates through you. you felt yunho's hands come up to grip your thighs, massaging and digging his fingers into the flesh. you feel his tongue flicking in and out of you before he's flattening his tongue and licking up your pussy.

you feel your eyes roll back, head tilting, and back arching thanks to the pleasurable feeling. sometimes you can't believe how good yunho makes you feel, mainly because of how cold and emotionless he is when on duty. yet despite the harsh stare he gives you while eating your pussy, he still manages to make your toes curl.

"does that feel good, pharaoh?" he asks, tone deep and breath warm as it fans over your slowly heating up skin.

"mmh, yes~ please keep going," you tell him and he chuckles before diving back in. "so good," you breath out softly.

you were honestly still surprised by how willing yunho was to please you since the beginning. always taking care of you even when you were pregnant. you remember settling between his legs and letting his calloused hands roam your body and touch you.

"yu-yunho?" your voice breaks through the peaceful silence that the two of you had set. you look down at your guard to find him looking up at you. his eyes boring into your own, as it was the only time he could look at you like how your husbands do. because in this moment he wasn't your guard, but your lover. "do you think– fuck, right there– do you think... that i shouldn't have, mmh, invited e-emperor san?"

that questioning had been weighing on you since that conversation weeks ago. the way hongjoong and seonghwa were against it made you want to reconsider everything, yet you need to make sure this new emperor of the minerva empire knew not to mess with you. you were the pharaoh of isis, you had a duty to look powerful and protect your country and people. your husbands included.

you watch as yunho pulls away from your pussy before he's sitting up and resting on his knees. his face void of emotions like it always was.

"what would you like to hear, my pharaoh?" he asks and you make an annoyed huff sound before rolling your eyes at him.

"your honest opinion," you tell him.

yunho hums before he's casually lifting your leg up, letting your calf rest on his shoulder. he presses a few kisses to your leg as it looks like he's in thought.

"i think that if you did it for a reason then my pharaoh shouldn't worry about any danger the emperor of minerva might bring. you cannot change the past, but you can change the future," he says as his hand comes up to cup your heat, running his fingers through your drenched folds.

"gosh, who knew you could be so wise," you huff out with a teasing tone.

"i can be very wise if my pharaoh wants me to be, or i can be as savage as the rest of my people," he says, repeating words that many people of isis have said about yunho's people.

"would being a savage get you to fuck me?" you question, tilting your head to the side as you looked up at your guard who towered over you in this moment.

"if i fuck my pharaoh like a savage, i can't guarantee i won't get you pregnant with my savage heir," he says as you watch him remove the fabrics that covered his lower half and his hard cock standing tall and proud and waiting to breed.

"hmm, that sounds nice, that means i get to keep you to myself. i am a very selfish pharaoh after all. would you fill me up and give me my first bastard child," you say and yunho licks his lips before he's using the head of his cock to tease and rub between your folds. slicking you up with his pre-cum.

"i'll do whatever my pharaoh wants," he tells you making a cheshire grin spread across your lips as you felt him enter you.

"ah! welcome, emperor san, it is a pleasure to met you," you say, a welcoming smile on your face as you watched the male walk up the large stoned steps of the palace in order to approach you.

you had to admit that san was a handsome man. his jaw was sharp and defined and his skin was sun-kissed. his feline-like eyes darting around and looking at his surroundings before they settle on your form. his eyes rack over your silk covered body and you notice how he faintly licks his lips before he stoping a good distance in front of you.

"of course," his voice is strong like the rest of him, "i was pleasantly surprised when i received your invitation, pharaoh," he adds, hands coming to rest behind his back. his shoulders are straight and you notice how his muscles bulge underneath his tunic and armor. fuck, you could definitely see the former war general side of him when he stands like this.

"well, i just wanted to congratulate and get to know the new emperor of minerva. even if i am two years late which i apologize for," you say, a bashful smile on your lips, but san easily brushes the comment off.

"it's quite alright, pharaoh. better late than never, and i do love a party, especially when it's in my honor," he says making you laugh.

"shall we go inside then? my servants will show your men to their rooms before being escorted to the banquet hall," you tell him and san nods his head taking several steps forward before he's offering you his arm which you happily take.

"does this mean i get a private tour by the great pharaoh goddess herself, then?" he asks, a smirk overtaking his lips and you let out a small hum at his question.

"of course, nothing but the best for my honorary guest," you tell him as you both walk into the palace, the swarm of people following behind the two of you.

"and this is where my consorts' quarters are located," you say and you notice how this catches san's attention.

"how many consorts do you have?" he asks.

"i have three; hongjoong, wooyoung, and seonghwa," you say feeling a sense of pride as you speak of your husbands. even if was just saying their names.

"do you love your husbands?" you're a little surprised by his question but you do your best to hide your surprise.

"yes, i love them very much," you tell him and san can only nod his head at your answer as you both continue to walk. "are you married?"

"i am. i have a wife, siyeon," he says and you notice how he doesn't seem as energetic to talk about her like you are about your husbands.

"i'm sure she's very beautiful," you tell him with a soft smile and san can only nod. "do you have any children?"

"no. none yet," he answers sharply and you make note about how he doesn't want to talk about his wife.

"tell me, emperor san," you begin, earning his attention, "do you like to fuck or make love?" now this question caught him off guard, and you had to try hard to suppress your grin. "or which one do you prefer? fucking or making love?" you're teasing him now and you can tell that san is quick to catch on to your tone.

"i like to fuck," he says taking a deep breath as he watches you run a hand down his arm, his muscles twitching under your touch. "but i would prefer to make love. let it be raw and real," he adds and you let a small smile grace your lips.

"do you fuck your wife? or do you need someone else to pleasure you?" you ask, your hand coming to rest around the back of his neck. your fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

"it depends," he begins lower his face closer to yours so your lips are inches a part, "is her highness offering to let me fuck her raw in her own private quarters?"

"it depends," you say mimicking his words, "tomorrow night when the moon is at its highest. i'll be waiting for you," you tell him. "but right now everyone is waiting for us, it would be rude to keep your men waiting," you say, slipping away from him as you begin to walk towards the banquet hall, leaving san to catch up with you.

when you and san entered the banquet hall, many of the isis nobles and soldiers from minerva seemed to be chattering and enjoying themselves. you were quick to notice hongjoong, wooyoung, and seonghwa sitting in their spots near the head of the table. however, a spot to your right was left open in order for san to sit next to you.

"i made sure to prepare a mixture of classic foods from both isis and minerva, in order to add some variety and flavor for everyone here," you explain as you and san walk down the table. the nobles from your country bowing as you walked by while the soldiers from minerva bowed to san.

"i'm impressed with how much you prepared, pharaoh," he says and you smile at him as you gesture to his seat next to hongjoong and across from wooyoung. you take your seat at the head of the table and look to see all the nobles still bowing their heads as they wait for you to speak.

"please, continue enjoying yourselves. this is a celebration for our honored guest," you say with a smile and the nobles are quick to obey your words.

"and these are my beautiful consort husbands," you say with a smile as your gesture to the three males. "the one beside you is hongjoong, the one across from you is wooyoung, and next to him is seonghwa."

wooyoung smiled at you as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. his fingers intertwining with yours as you continued your conversation with san. you noticed how san looked at your and wooyoung's hands before his eyes flickered up to meet yours.

"a pleasure to meet you three," he says with a firm smile, and the tree males all return the smile with firm ones of their own.

the banquet continues as you planned it would. many of the nobles and soldiers drinking and eating to their hearts content for the next few hours. entertainment in the background going on with music and dancers. you and san watched as some of his men attempted to dance like some of your dancers, but failed miserably due to their drunkenness. his second in command, mingi was probably the only one not to fail miserably, but still struggled to keep up.

eventually, wooyoung even got up and was able to dance. you couldn't help the smile that painted your lips as you watched him move effortlessly in time with the music.

"wow, he's really good at dancing," san says as you both watch your second husband.

"wooyoung was originally a dancer before i married him. he could dance to anything whether sober or drunk," you brag and san only nods his head at your words.

it was only a few hours later when most of san's men had dragged themselves and each other to their rooms. several servants following after them to help them find their way. at the same time, the nobles also stumbled out of the palace as they made their way back to their own homes.

you personally escorted san back to his room and before you could bid him goodnight, he's pulling you in close to him. your nose squished against his as he lips ghosted over yours from how close you both where.

"be prepared for me, i plan on making it raw and real," he says, before he's letting you go and licking his lips.

"of course, emperor san, i'll be waiting. goodnight," you say, before you turn on your heel and walk back down the grand corridor. making sure to let your hips sway as you walked away.

when you returned to your own quarters, you were not surprised to find your three lovers waiting for you. you let out a sigh as you walked past them and over to your vanity in order to start removing your jewelry and makeup.

"what's your plan, y/n?" hongjoong asks as you both look at each other through your mirror.

"i'm going to get him to marry me," you say, turning to look at your husband. "then we will have a strong ally," you add.

"that was your plan this whole time?" hongjoong asks, voice raising as he is complete applaud by your words.

"no, i didn't think of it until i saw him. i knew i wanted to become allies but knowing he's in a loveless marriage just makes this plan even better."

"you're a nasty woman," wooyoung says a wide grin on his face, his hyena laugh echoing through your quarters. "i love it," he adds making you giggle as you finish removing your makeup. you then stand up and begin to undress. letting your dress fall and become a puddle around your ankles leaving you bare to your three husbands.

"this is a bad idea, y/n," hongjoong says as you come up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. your body flush against his clothed one. a chill runs down your spine when you feel his cold hands run over your skin. "what happens if this plan fails?"

"it won't fail. i won't let it," you tell him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "i already have him falling into my grasp. i'm close to getting somewhere."

"trust her, joong. if he fucks the god pussy then he won't be able to say no to her," wooyoung says, speaking up from his place on your bed. you turn to give wooyoung a sneaky grin which he returns. "i should know, once you fuck god pussy, you won't want nothing else but it."

"have more respect for your wife and pharaoh, wooyoung," seonghwa says finally speaking up for the first time tonight.

"don't be pissy, hwa, you're just mad you haven't fucked her in a while," wooyoung throws back and you realize that he's right.

it has been a while since you and seonghwa have been together. pulling away from hongjoong, you quickly make yourself comfortable between seonghwa's legs. kneeling between your husband, you let your hands run up and down his thighs as he looks down at you.

"what do you think, hwa? do you trust me?"

"o-of course, love, i trust you and i believe you know what you are doing," he says and you smile before kissing the skin of his thigh that was peeking underneath his tunic.

"when are you going to talk to him?" hongjoong asks as he watches you slowly trail your hands up, moving seonghwa's tunic up as you do so.

"he's going to visit me tomorrow night."

"i wasn't expecting you to be this prepared when waiting for me," san says with a smirk as he enters your chambers to the sight of you touching yourself. your middle and ring fingers covered in your slick juices as you slide them in and out of your wet pussy. the heat of your core sending pleasurable chills up your spine.

"f-figured i'd give you a personal show," you say with a smile as you watch san stalk closer to you. he easily unties and discards the robe that was around him, showing you that he was wearing nothing underneath it. his half hard cock slowly growing the more he watched you.

he stood at the foot of your bed, watching as you continued to fuck yourself before he was crawling onto the bed and closer to you. san watched with sharp eyes as you used your free hand to grope your breast. squeezing the flesh of your tit and pinching your nipple and tweaking it.

san couldn't help but groan when he watched you remove your fingers to see them coated in your juices. he quickly grasped your wrist before popping your fingers into his mouth. his tongue wrapping around your digits, cleaning them before he's removing them with a clean pop. you couldn't help the stuttered moan that left your lips.

"so," he begins as he crawls up body, his hands pressing into the silk sheets below you as he props himself up. "why does the beautiful pharaoh want to have her pussy fucked by someone like me? compared to your husbands, i'm definitely not your type of man," he says, lips ghosting over yours as he speaks.

"i love sex, i'll fuck whoever i want," you reply making him chuckle before he's sitting up and positioning himself between your legs.

"yeah? then you'll let me fuck you? what happens if i get you pregnant with my heir?" he asks as he positions himself, the head of his cock teasing your entrance and running between your folds. you let out a loud cry as you felt him thrust his cock inside of you in one thrust. your back arches as san has your legs propped onto your shoulders.

his pace is immediate and ruthless. almost animalistic like his primal instincts are taking over as he fucks you.

"f-fuck san!" you shout, not caring who hears. not caring about how yunho is outside your door right now, listening as san pounds away at your pussy, using it how he pleases.

"what will happen if– if i fill you up full of my cum? leave you nice and full for the rest of my stay here?" he looks hypnotized as he watches your breast bounce with each of his thrust.

"do you want an heir? w-want a child between the two of us, something– fuck! something you don't have with your wife back in minerva?" you taunt him and san groans as he rolls his head back at your words.

you let out a loud gasp, back arching as your mouth forms a perfect o-shape and san knows he hit a sweet spot. he can't help but think you look beautiful especially like this.

"s-so, i've heard you wa-want to– fuck, form an alliance between isis and minerva," he says and you can't help but run your hands down his chest.

"y-yeah, i want to combine our powers," you tell him as you pull him closer to you, you clench hard around his cock and san has to keep himself from feeling lost in the feelings of your pussy sucking him in.

"combine our powers?" he echoes, hips continue to drill into you as the room is overpowered with the sounds of skin on skin mixed with your heavy moans.

"we– we could be unstoppable," you tell him as you feel yourself growing closer to your climax.

"you think so? is that why you want my cock?" he teases as you clench once more around him. "i'd fill your cunt with my cum as our two empires become allies, is that all you really want?"

with one final thrust, its enough to have you coming around him. your walls tighten around his cock and it makes it almost impossible for him to continue moving in that moment. he lets out a deep groan at the tightness but ignores it in order to continue his movements. his thrusts prolonging your orgasm. he wants to extend it just a little longer. wants to extend the feeling of you two connected and as one. something he's never felt before, especially with his wife.

"s-san," you call out his name before he's crashing his lips onto yours. he can tell how fucked out you're becoming the longer he continues to abuse your poor pussy.

he doesn't ever want this feeling of raw emotions to stop. san's decided that he likes feeling like this.

"f-fuck, why does your pussy feel so good," he groans as he continues to thrust into you. your moans like music to his ears as he continues to listen to you let out breathy moan and call out his name. despite being a drooling and moaning mess beneath him, san thinks you look breathtaking.

"s-san, lets becoming one," you say and san groans at your words. he does a particularly harsh and deep thrust and you swear that it hits the entrance to your womb. you feel your eyes roll back as you clench tightly around his cock.

"sure, lets... lets become one, my pharaoh," he says as he looks at you with an equally fucked out face.

"please..." you begin to say, "call me y/n," you finish and san smiles at your words.

"y/n... y/n, y/n, y/n!" with every pronounce of your name, he does an equally harsh thrust into your leaking and abused pussy. you feel san begin to stutter in his thrusts before he's finally coming with a cry of your name. you can't help but come one more time as you feel san paint your walls with his thick cum.

you know everyone in the palace will know what the two of you did tonight, but you don't care. you had san wrapped around your finger and it was only a matter of time before you officially became as one.

san let out a groan as he rolled onto his back next to you. a layer of sweat covering his golden body making it look shiny as he relaxed into your sheets. you turn onto your side, immediately cuddling up next to him and he has a blissed out smile on his face as he holds you close.

"was that raw and real enough for you?" you tease, a hand coming up to trace the toned muscles of his chest and abs. "so about that alliance..."

"fuck..." is all he says before you're moving to straddle him. "i want you to come visit minerva in a months time and there we can... discuss this alliance."

you can't help the smirk that graces your lips before you're leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. you couldn't wait to rub it into hongjoong and seonghwa's faces about how your plan was coming along smoothly.

maybe wooyoung was right about not being able to say no to the god pussy after all.

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[ryniswright]

𓍝 MOON BOYS TAKING CARE OF YOU IN A CHRONIC PAIN FLARE

∘₊✧──────────✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧──────────✧₊

∘₊✧──────────✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧──────────✧₊

(first pic is them taking care of you :o)

(soft headcanons) (receiving care) (unspecified pain-causing disorder/s)

g!n reader | sfw | steven grant | marc spector | jake lockley

STEVEN GRANT

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Steven would do so much research on your disorder that he’d almost know more than you. He’d start studying the second he found out about your pain so that he can be best equipped to help you. Afterall, he loves researching and if that would be able to help you in some way he would jump on the opportunity. You’d catch him leaving tabs open and find books about your disorder/s in his study and you’d feel the research in all of the little ways he knows how to help you.  

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Whenever you’d tell him you’re worried he’ll get tired of your illness he’d get really sad and quiet. “I never want to imagine a life without you,” he’d say, “I don’t even want to think about getting tired of you- you’re so special to me.” He’d squeeze your hand gently as a reminder that he’s not going anywhere. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He’d be just as flustered seeing you with your mobility aids/medical devices as without them. They’d be the last thing he focuses on, to him they’d just be a part of you, his love, and they keep you safe and happy. You’re beautiful to him no matter what, even when you can barely get out of bed or you’re agonizing in pain he would be utterly enamored by you. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He would tell you about the evolution of mobility aids in ancient egypt. About how they had crutches quite like our modern ones along with staffs, prosthetics, and canes. He’d gush about Ptah and how the ancient Egyptians integrated disabled people into society and placed emphasis on treating them equally. He’d ramble on like this while you listened in awe of him. You’d feel so lucky to have someone like this in your life- someone that learns things specifically to tell you about and someone who lights up so much while explaining them. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He would have no issue with taking up extra house chores during your flares. In fact he’d insist on it and get upset when you try pushing yourself too hard. Some added cleaning is nothing if it keeps you in minimal pain and helps you get back to a more manageable state.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You’d tell him you’re scared that you’ll never get better and he’d listen, holding you gently and trying to reassure you with his presence. “We’re going to get through this together.” He’d say. “You’re in a flare right now love- it’s gotten better before and it will again.” “I’ll be here for you no matter what happens.” These reassurances would be spoken with so much love that they’d actually begin to give you hope. Things would always be manageable with him around. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He’d have no issues with you going nonverbal from pain. He’d typically continue to talk to you just like normal unless you’re clearly overstimulated. He wouldn’t want you to feel barred from socializing just because you can’t speak directly. He’d watch your arm movements, trying his best to decode the weird sign-rhythm you two fall into, and laugh his way through chatting with you just as usual. 

MARC SPECTOR

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Marc would be amazing at reading you. He’d be able to tell from slight shifts in behavior when your symptoms are getting worse and then accommodate properly. He’d do it without saying much, but you’d notice that before you’d even tell him you’re in extra pain he’d be doing more caretaking and purchasing any extra items you could need. There’s something quiet and supportive in his love that makes you feel like things will get better.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He would always be prepared. Carrying around things you need in bags and cars and making sure to get replacements the second things got faulty or ran out. He hates being unprepared, especially when that puts you at risk. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You’d ask him if he’d rather be with someone else, someone less ill, and he’d be dumbfounded by the conclusions your mind comes to. He’d pause for a little bit, mustering up the courage to express his love for you. “Of course not, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” and he’d squeeze your hand. He truly can’t see himself with anyone but you and your illness is simply another part of you. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Whenever you’d feel embarrassed subconscious about your accommodations he’d be there practically looking at you with hearts in his eyes. Even in flares where you can barely get out of bed he’d never stop looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s seen. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Most of your interactions with him, especially when you’re flaring, would be quiet and safe. He wouldn’t talk much because he’d know it hurts you to reply, he’d just quietly sit with you and enjoy your presence while supporting you with his. He’d occasionally make comments at the tv, or complain about hero work or his alters or any of the usual things he gets upset about, but you would never feel pressured to respond. He’d leave room for you to be nonverbal. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He would come with you to every doctor's appointment and make sure that they listen to you. He’d hear about the amount of medical neglect you have gone through and become filled with rage- how could doctors treat so many people who are clearly in so much pain like they are subhuman and faking it? That would never make sense to him. So, he’d always be there ready to defend you. A looming threat against those who would doubt you in the corner of every room. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He’d always remind you that things are going to get better again and that even if they don’t you two will get through it. Especially when you make comments about being dumb or not working hard enough. You’d always be enough to him and you’d always be someone worth taking care of. 

JAKE LOCKLEY

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Jake wouldn’t let a day go by without checking in on your pain levels and asking if you need anything. You’d tell him he doesn’t need to do anything for you, but that would only make him want to do more. He’d get you anything you need and more than that. Making sure that you’re well cared for and that things are as easy as they can be for you. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When you’d tell him things that you miss doing he’d look for creative ways to still include you with him. He’d push you in a wheelchair through theme parks, be there to make sure you don’t faint or overdo it with physical activities, and anything that could make things more accessible for you. He wouldn’t want you to miss out on life. Anything he could do to accommodate you would be important to him. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You’d have to convince him not to kill the negligent doctors that tell you things are in your head. He can’t fathom the idea of someone treating you that way. Especially since he sees how much pain you are in on a daily basis and how bad your flares can get. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Shortly after moving in together you’d discover that he’s an amazing cook. He’d always be finding new creative ways to make you delicious meals that accommodate your dietary needs. Then he’d never be offended on days when you couldn’t finish it all. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Before you could even get the chance to worry about it he would be telling you that there’s no one else he’d rather be with. That you are beyond important to him and so much more than your health conditions. That you can make him happier than anyone else ever could. He’d want you to know he is completely satisfied with you just the way you are. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He’d help you with every part of your routine. Gently brushing your hair, scrubbing your back in the bath, cleaning the things you usually would. He would want to make sure you feel as good as you can and he’d know that being unable to get out of bed destroys your mental health. “I love doing these things for you. You are my heart and I am here for you however I can be.” He’d say, along with other things to gently reassure you that you aren’t burdening him. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩 For a while he’d get very worried when you aren’t speaking. He’d worry a lot, about a lot of things, and he’d try to act like it isn’t affecting him but you’d sense it. You’d let him know he’s doing great with supporting you and that even when your symptoms are bad they are the best they’ve been in your life because you have three people who are so attentive to you and your needs around.

[sarcki]

Okay this is self indulgent and stupid and cringe buutttttt

Billfiddlesford monster high au…

AH AH AH HEAR ME OUT!!!

ford growing up not knowing he’s a monster (like g3 clawdeen) and runs away one day after getting bullied for being a freak and stumbles upon Monster High, is absolutely FASCINATED Of course. not paying attention he literally runs into Fiddleford who is a Franken monster and fidds is just as excited to see a “Normie” as ford is to see a monster, (classic tries to shake hands but fidds hand falls off shenanigans) fidds gives ford a tour of the school when at the end who walks through the front doors but popular pretty boy bill cipher a Bogeyman/mummy hybrid (born as a bogeyman in ancient Egypt as a royal who tormented his people with nightmares until his people mummified him alive) fidds is like “ugh” and starts telling Stanford how popular and horrible bill is only to look over and see ford absolutely heart eyes at bill “well you’re done for, I’ll make sure you get a nice funeral”

Like just imagine

Bill meeting ford for the first time: …what is a normie doing here?

Fidds holding up Stanfords six fingers*

Bill: …that cannot count?

Ford: actually I think I can count pretty well… with 12 fingers and all heh.. heh…

Bill: ohhhh he’s funny! Maybe I should keep him as a pet~

Fidds: Bill monsters keeping humans as pets hasn’t been legal in hundreds of years, you know this…

*Ford is now a flustered freak who just had to witness his newfound crush want to keep him as a pet, which was apparently a common enough procedure in the past that it had to be outlawed”

Also

Bill pulling out of bag full of bottles: I have all my organs in jars, including my heart because I’m just extra like that!

Fidds mumbling: …explains why you’re such a bitch

Ford: but wait, I thought Mummys were supposed to keep their heart so they can pass into the afterliffff…. …Oh

Bill: …yeah, my people really hated me!

Fidds: …I wonder why

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

Okay now that we made a sandwich why not donate the price of a sandwich to the campaign below?

Verification and info about this campaign can be found at this link here.

Right now this campaign has only raised

650 / 35,000 USD

That's only 2% Funded

This father is having watch his family suffer from a nation away as he was in Egypt when the bombardment started.

I can't imagine the pain of not knowing if your children are even alive much less that they're getting enough to eat.

Please share this post so more eyes and donors can find and support it.

Then if you've got the extra money (the cost of a sandwich maybe) consider donating it.

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Thank you.

Direct link to campaign here.

Tag List for Reach. Dm me for removal.

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[anodetoswag]

𝔊𝔯𝔞𝔲𝔭𝔢𝔩 : 𝓣. 𝓝𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓼𝓸

Synopsis: The Nile is a river in Egypt. You're an isekai protagonist.

Note (s) : Themes of violence, mugging attempt. Reader has the opposite of main character complex. Narration heavy, minor swearing. Reader has a Quirk that allows her to touch objects, making her body of the same material. 1.6K words

Natsuo can admit taking a shortcut through a shady looking area is against the first rule of survival but he's running late. From not being able to find matching socks in the morning to the coffee stain on his shirt, it's just those little things that build up and ruin the day. Actually, thinking about how lady luck has been treating him today, maybe he shouldn't have taken the risk.

In retrospect he should have expected things to go south and it did or at least the train is beginning to turn. It has been turning for the last ten minutes or so when the pair of thug looking guys started following him. The saving grace comes not in the form of biblically accurate archangel but the modern counterpart, a rundown supermarket. The location is questionable but Natsuo avoids looking the gift horse in the mouth.

The interior is standard with shelves stacked with items. There are a few questionable red stains peeking from behind the edge of the shelves but Natsuo knows better than to poke his nose into places it doesn't belong.

It's almost entirely devoid of life. There's someone at the register lazily flipping through a magazine. They look up briefly, give him an odd look before returning to whatever gripping material Cawaii!! had to offer.

He walks around for a while, picking up and reading the composition of the products as most respectable people do. It feels good to come across names he recognizes, makes him feel his time at college has been at least somewhat useful.

Deciding that's enough dilly dallying for the day, he peeks out from the glass doors. Thankfully nobody is in sight. Natsuo hurries back out. Maybe he should have taken a taxi after all. Would have saved him a world of trouble.

The moment he disappears out of sight after taking a left down the corner, you spring out of your seat to peer outside. It's been years since you read the manga but you know for a fact that was no extra.

You know you shouldn't follow him. That sort of fan behavior is beneath you but even beyond that, it's the fact that you've actively steered clear of the main plot, avoided interactions with the characters no matter the situation up until this point. Hell, you even went out of your way to avoid the side of the city where the plot takes place and ended up in this dump in fear of triggering the butterfly effect. Going after him could open a whole can of worms you want no part in.

You stand in the doorway for what feels like ages while logic and instinct wage war in your being. There’s always a pull that you feel when coming across someone from the main storyline but you always resist. Today just feels harder but once again, you steel yourself to step back in. 

A glance at the rusty wall clock brings to your attention that you should start closing up. In rehearsed motions, you make sure everything is in place, the register is locked and the things that needed to be stocked are in place. Your coworkers aren’t exactly known for their work ethic. 

Switching the lights off, you lock the door and start the trek back to your apartment. It’s the familiarity of a voice that has you pausing before an alleyway. It’s too dark to make out the faces but from the sound of it, it sounds like a mugging incident. Loitering around would be asking for trouble and yet you find yourself unable to walk away once you catch sight of the familiar figure backed into the opposite corner. Of course, there’s a possibility of this being nothing but your overactive imagination. There are thousands of people in this city and it could very likely be someone you don’t know but considering your life is a literal fucking comic book, coincidences are hardly ever innocent. 

Though if it really is Natsuo, that’s all the more reason to avoid playing the hero. You promised yourself you won’t get involved. The dilemma that you face right now is that you don’t ever remember this happening in the story. He isn’t a major character but an event like this would be mentioned, even if it was in passing. 

Your mind runs in overdrive to think of the possible theories. Maybe the incident was not big enough to be mentioned which was obviously the optimistic scenario but the counterpart presents itself in the form of the possibility that this wasn’t supposed to happen at all. The only reason Natsuo Todoroki is in this situation is because he had to be led to you by the rules of the isekai universe and now he’s stuck. Maybe the system is finally sick of your rebellion, sick of you fucking around and refusing to find out. 

Worst case scenario, Natsuo is done for. Which in turn would trigger a series of events going awry. Didn’t Shoto mention something about not being able to win against Dabi if not for his siblings? 

Yeah, this was looking bad. Very, very bad. 

You walk the length of the alleyway while keeping to the wall. The place reeks of trash and urine. You don’t know what you’ll do but you know it has to be done now if the muffled shouting is anything to go by. Natsuo was putting on a fight but the lack of experience was clear and the fact that he was outnumbered just put him at a further disadvantage.

You place a hand on the concrete wall, feeling your body get heavier as your skin turns hard and red like the laterite bricks that make up the bare concrete wall. The heaviness of your footsteps gives you away but you’re swinging your fist to land on the head of the closest one before they get a chance to attack. He clutches his head, stumbling back with a hiss. The other one is quick to react, talons shooting out from between his knuckles like a budget Wolverine before lunging at you. You narrowly avoid the hit but he doesn’t give you a chance to recover before he’s onto you like a dog on a bone.

“Get out!” 

The turmoil is clear in his expression from the way Natsuo looks between you and the exit but thankfully he heeds and makes a break for the end of the alleyway. That’s one less thing to worry about. Forced to go onto the defensive, all you can do is put your full focus. If those things are half as good as Wolverine’s you’ll be done for. Unlikely as that is, you’re not willing to find out through experimentation and yourself as the test subject. 

You finally find an opening once he goes for a right hook. Sliding your foot right next to his and pushing outward, you watch him lose balance and press your elbow onto his back to take him down with you onto the ground. He struggles, blindly swinging at the awkward angle but you don’t lift your elbow until you hear the telltale pop and a shriek. 

Getting back onto your feet, you hurry towards the exit. The sooner you get out of here, the better. It’s nearing the seven minute mark when your Quirk wears off. You only allow yourself rest once you’re a few steps away from the exit and right next to a flickering streetlight. With your back against the wall, you double over, breathing heavy and unsteady as it hits the cold air and condenses against it, forming white clouds of translucent white. Your skin turns back the usual color instead of the brick red, limbs feeling weightless. 

“Hey, you alright?”

You almost go taut with tension again until you register the voice. Whipping your head at breakneck speed, you’re met with a concerned expression. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I just need a minute.”

“That’s fine.”

Your vision swims but you aren’t too concerned with that right now. It’s a Quirk drawback and there is bigger fish to fry right now. Once you stand back up straight and begin walking, Natsuo follows on your heel. You don’t know why he’s still here but you feel too awkward to ask. Thankfully he breaks the silence just as you finish looking over your shoulder. 

“Where did you learn to fight like that?”

You shrug. “Youtube tutorials.”

Thankfully he doesn’t question it. Arriving at the end of the neighbourhood, you stop and gesture to your right. 

Natsuo offers you a nod of understanding though the nagging feeling of having to say something is too strong. After all, it’s not everyday that people go out of their way in situations like this. 

“Thank you, if there’s anything–”

“It’s fine,” you cut off. The shorter this interaction stays, the better. “Just be careful.”

With nothing else to say, he begins the trek home .Fuyumi will give him a piece of her mind but he’d rather have her believe he got late over something small than tell her that he nearly got mugged. 

Just as you lose sight of him after he rounds the corner, an interface materializes out of seemingly nowhere while nearly sending you into a cardiac arrest. And if his sister's reaction isn't enough to worry about, Natsuo has a gut feeling that something is amiss here.

—(••÷[ 𝓦Ⓔⓛ𝒸σ𝕞𝓔 ]÷••)— ᵤₛₑᵣ ⑤⑤⑤    /⃝⑧②

🅲🅾🅽🅶🆁🅰🆃🆄🅻🅰🆃🅸🅾🅽🆂 ₒₙ cₒₘₚₗₑₜᵢₙg

🄲🄷🄰🅁🄰🄲🅃🄴🅁 🅀🅄🄴🅂🅃 ׺°”˜”°º× ➀ ׺°”˜”°º×

𝒢𝓇𝒶𝓊𝓅𝑒𝓁 ⟡﹒⇆﹒♡﹒﹢﹒ᶻ﹒✹﹒﹢﹒✶﹑〇﹐ tׁׅ. ꪀׁׅɑׁׅ֮tׁׅ꯱ׁׅ֒υׁׅᨵׁׅ

🆄🅿🅲🅾🅼🅸🅽🅶 🆀🆄🅴🆂🆃🆂

1⃣. 𝓃𝓊𝒷𝒾𝓋𝒶𝑔𝒶𝓃𝓉

Ⓕⓣ    .⃝ *̩̩͙‧͙*˚⁺‧͙ㅤ ওㅤㅤֺㅤ𝒦. 𝒯𝒶𝓀𝒶𝓂𝒾 ㅤֺㅤ ওㅤ ㅤ*̩̩͙‧͙*˚⁺‧͙

ƒαιℓυяє ʷⁱˡˡ ʳᵉˢᵘˡᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉʳᵗᵃⁱⁿ ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿ ĐɆ₳₮Ⱨ

Ꮆㄖㄖᗪ　ㄥㄩ匚Ҝ ムののり　ﾚひᄃズ

Ÿ̵̫̂͛͂̉͐̄̕͝o̷̩̼̪̳̻͋̿̉u̵̘͒̊̒͋̔'̸̹̦̥͇̬͍̰͙̪̗̇͠͠ḽ̸̡͉͚͑͊̎̕͝l̸̩̺̰̘̜̼̫̖̲̩̎̀̈͋͌̈̐̿͠ ̶͔͓̼̜̌́̍̈́̏n̸̡̞͎̫͇͚̯̪̖̣͂̅̓̃̏̀͗͘͝ę̶̹͉̝̩̥̯̂̔̃̽̊͌̄̍̐͜ë̸͇̑͊͗̒́̓̇̊̎d̷̤͌͗̑̋̓͝ͅ ̷̨̹̝̥͎̰͓̣̫͔̆͒̈͠ĩ̴̞͆̔͠t̴̢̳͈̮̹̽̉̆͛̇̍̚

Oh, you are so royally fucked.

Not sure whether to leave it as a oneshot or make it into a series. Will probably end it here.

[llamaisllama777]

LAES,TSAMS,EAPS WEEKLY*/*DAILY REVIEW SHOW!!!!!

Okay, we had a lot of really good episodes today, so let's hurry up and talk about them!

First up, FAMILY MOMENTS! I love this thumbnail so much, especially Moon's face.. I .. I just love it!

I love how we get to learn about everyone's movie preferences. It's interesting learning these little random tidbits about them. It's fun. Also Sun...

SPY KIDS 3 IS GREAT, AND I WILL NOT HEAR OTHERWISE!!! 😡

Also, Prince of Egypt is a really good movie. You all should go watch it. Even if you aren't religious, it's really good and has some awesome animation and music. Seriously, if you haven't watched, please do. I think it's on YouTube for free???

This episode was cute.... ONTO THE TRAUMA!

Bout time, I was wondering when Nexus would try to kidnap Sun. Took longer than I expected... I wonder why? 🤔

This episode I think confirmed a theory I had...

New Moon/Nexus never cared.

I had this thought in the back of my head that Nexus never really cared about them. He never thought of them as family. He just saw them as people he was told to call family. They were NEVER his family. He never really cared. He just cared about Solar, but Solar never saw him as a brother. OOOFFFFF!

That hurts!

But I'm glad we know because DANG! The angst there!

Also, Sun is stronger than Nexus' chain ability (That ability where he forces people to the floor. I like to imagine purple chains form around the person when he uses that move)

Nexus was so close to kidnapping Sun....

BUT MONTY CAME IN STINKIN' CLUTCH!!!!!!

Monty FINALLY got to use the shotgun! He nearly killed Nexus there! Thank you, Nebula, for the starshells! The Astrals are starting to grow on me.

(Okay... maybe a was a little rash on the whole "Down with the Astrals" "Viva la revolution" thing!) Sorry, Astrals. Still don't really trust Taurus or Leo tho.

Things are getting serious! October is in like two weeks! The creator is still out there! Rez and Cetus are out there! And Dark Sun still has a stinkin' dragon! This is gonna be an exciting October! I'm so excited!

Also, thank you, Davis and Reed, for this picture of Monty with a shotty.

And lastly...

Okay, Eclipse looks like that one guy from the office that conspiracy theory guy. And Puppet just looks depressed.

Puppet really wants to catch the killer. It's really affecting her. It's the MCI incident all over again. And she clearly doesn't want anyone or herself to go through that again. Eclipse still won't watch movies with anyone. It's only a matter of time, though. The moment he says yes and joins them is the moment his redemption arc is complete for me!

So, Eclipse and Puppet have narrowed down the killer to 4 suspects. All employees of Fazbear.

1. Vincent

2. Some lady named Margo

3. A teenage intern who works in the daycare named Josh

4. And the repair man whose name I forget.

I don't think it's any of these guys. But I have a few theories on who the killer could be..

1. Michael Afton of this world. Eclipse did mention in one of the early episodes of the EAPS that the Michael of this world was/still is an employee of Fazbears.

2. Henry Emily. Just cause the angst that it would cause Puppet.

3. The Charlie of this world. Just cause again the angst it would cause Puppet being the killer of this world!

There is no way it's Wanda(the William of this world)

And I highly doubt it's Vincent or some rando employee.

It has to be someone important.

These episodes were amazing!

Davis, Reed, Kat, Valentine, you guys did amazing on these episodes again!

12/10!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Extra point cause WOW!

Also shout out to this commentor for having the funniest comment on there.

Nebula, you are starting to become my favorite Astral!

Also, Patchnotes is a ship I really hope happens now!

[artyphex]

Oh no Thoth is as fun to write as he is to draw

Also if you saw me upload this with fewer details, different size words, and an unfunny doodle in the corner, and now reupload it fixed. Come back with a warrant

[goldfades]

me again 😚 I was going through the manager thoughts tag and had another thought ab manager and the freshman and I wanna go through how each of their relationships would be with manager so bear with me this will prob be long 🙂‍↕️ (adding Jana too bc she’s technically a redshirt freshman)

Sarah- I feel like manager and Sarah would instantly get along. As soon as Sarah committed manager was texting and congratulating her and saying how excited they were to have her as a husky. I feel like manager would be fiercely protective over Sarah because she’s so young and so talented and knows that the media can get really nasty and doesn’t want her to go through what some of the older girls have gone through. I also feel like Sarah would be like KK 2.0, attached to manager’s side and always in her office. Sarah is so precious and silly and would always keep manager laughing, so manager has a big soft spot for her.

Allie- I just know manager would absolutely adore Allie from day 1. She’s so talented and sweet and really wants to learn. I know Allie is rooming with P this season so I know those two would absolutely terrorize manager, driving her insane with their yapping 😭 but I feel like Allie has such a positive and happy spirit and really looks up to manager as a leader.

Morgan- my precious Morgan 🥹 i think Morgan would be a little intimidated by manager at first just because she’s been watching her for a long time before committing to UConn. She was prob a little shy meeting her for the first time bc she thought manager was so cool and slightly scary, but after (1) conversation those two were instantly friends. I think manager would take on an older sister role to Morgan, bc she reminds her of her own younger sisters. When Morgan gets frustrated and starts to beat herself up over little mistakes manager is right there offering words of encouragement and support bc that’s her baby sister.

Jana- oh my Jan Jan, where do I start? I feel like manager and Jana’s relationship is really special. I bet manager went with CD to Egypt to recruit her so she was really fond of her super early on. Jana relies super heavily on manager to keep her organized, constantly texting her asking what her schedule is for that day (of course manager has her class schedule, she has everyone’s schedule memorized) but after Jana got injured, she felt super down and upset that she couldn’t play, and manager knew it was taking a really hard toll on her so manager made sure she loved on Jana just a little extra, taking her with her on errands/events/home to visit her family etc. Jana and kk keep manager laughing, while simultaneously driving her absolutely insane. But manager wouldn’t have it any other way because her babies are her whole heart and soul.

okay but first of all, i love you for this because you’re so in tune with the vibes of manager’s relationships, and i can’t stop thinking about how accurate these are

let me go one by one and throw in my two cents:

sarah: you’re so right—it’s instant connection with her. manager has that “protect at all costs” energy when it comes to sarah because she knows how brutal the media can be, especially with young players who come in with big expectations. sarah’s goofy, playful side is exactly the kind of chaos manager thrives in, so their dynamic is so fun and sweet. and yes, sarah absolutely parks herself in manager’s office, bringing that same “kk 2.0” vibe but with her own flavor of silliness. manager probably has to kick her out on occasion like, “sarah, i’m actually drowning in work, go to practice!!” but she does it while laughing.

allie: manager is so proud of her from day one. i can already imagine how much she loves hyping up allie’s energy and work ethic—like the quiet pride she feels when she sees allie soaking in everything and growing every day. also, the combo of allie and paige together??? they’re giving “two tornadoes of chaos” energy, and poor manager has to deal with their antics nonstop. but deep down, she wouldn’t trade it for anything because allie’s positivity is infectious, and manager is soft for her enthusiasm and heart.

morgan: oh my god, i LOVE the idea of morgan being a little shy around manager at first. you nailed it—she totally puts manager on this pedestal, but once she realizes how warm and caring manager is, she’s like, “okay, i have a big sister now.” manager sees herself in morgan in a way, especially when morgan gets frustrated or hard on herself. she knows how to calm her down, build her up, and be the support morgan needs. their bond feels really wholesome and grounding, like a little sister-big sister dynamic that just works.

jana: this one hits me right in the feels because their relationship really is so special. manager probably went all-in on making jana feel at home at uconn, and it shows. jana texting manager constantly about schedules, needing a little extra guidance? that’s so them, and manager doesn’t even blink—she’s like, “of course, jan, i’ve got you.” after jana’s injury, manager stepping in to make sure she feels loved and included is just peak mom energy. like taking her on errands or home visits? sob. and you KNOW jana and kk together are unstoppable, pulling manager into their chaos, but manager secretly loves being part of it. jana’s one of her soft spots for sure.

overall, manager’s relationships with the freshmen are so tailored to each of their personalities, but the common thread is how fiercely she loves and supports them. they’re her babies, and she’d do anything for them <3😭

[qhazomb]

went back to my fan digimon arts and decided to finally give them some proper shading (and also fix mummysmilodomon's left knee.)

i also tweaked the colours a tiny bit on sekhetmon- changed the spikes on her belt and armbands to the same red as her claws, the silver spikes didn't really mesh with the rest of her colourpalette.

and as before, some info about them all (also as before, no baby I stage, as i imagine gatakimon just digivolves from one of the botamons):

Baby II- Gatakimon Baby cats. That’s it, that’s literally it.

Child- Shuredimon Schrodinger’s Cat, but taking the “the cat is both alive and dead” part more literally. Undead things can be described as both living and dead, so. Not at all an original idea, but a funny (punny) one.

Adult- Smilodomon The bakeneko is a Japanese yokai that looks like a giant monstrous cat. Smilodon is an extinct cat that was big in size, especially in regards to its famous fangs. And thus, saber-toothed bakeneko. That punches things.

Perfect- Mummysmilodomon Another feline yokai is the nekomata, which a bakeneko can become if its tail splits in two. In addition to the extra tail, they also gain the power of necromancy, and steal corpses to use as puppets. How lovely. Speaking of corpses, ancient Egyptians were really fond of giving their cats fancy burials, mummifying and entombing them with care and respect. Cats were associated with the gods, after all.

Ultimate- Sekhetmon The lioness-headed Sekhmet was one of ancient Egypt’s cat-like gods, and a particularly vicious one at that, having such lovely titles as “mistress of dread,” “lady of slaughter,” and “she who mauls.” Her favorite colour is blood. She was often depicted dressed in bright red because of her gory associations. Sekhmet could also breathe fire, and control of fire is a power nekomata have too, coincidentally. She was nicer to the dead than nekomata are, though, acting as a protector for the recently deceased as they entered the afterlife. (Bonus fact: Shuredimon, Smilodomon, and Mummysmilodomon are all wearing red in reference to Sekhmet, too, though their red clothing/accessories aren’t as vibrant in colour. They don’t get the fresh blood red until they reach the fully realized Sekhetmon form.)

[j0kers-light]

Hiiiii!!! Can I be known as 🥁anon? I was the one who requested Jokers music taste and the instrument one!! (So glad you liked them btw, you write so welll!!!!!!)

How about 10 signs that joker is in love/likes someone and his love language? I mainly imagine him as someone who denies the idea (just like in HL) but still acts on his feelings in his own way- maybe leaving gifts around and denying any sort of accountability for them?

“I’m telling you, you’ve had that necklace on before” - “Huh? I didn’t even know you liked hand bags.” - “You SERIOUSLY forgot you owned that car?”

Welcome 🥁 anon!!

A huge hey hi to you! Yes, your requests were so much fun to fill, I hope I did them some justice! Ahh! Thank you, I'm happy you love mi work! 😭😭🥹

Lol, ten signs that Joker is in love? YOU MEAN, TEN THINGS HE HATES ABOUT YOU? 🥴 sorry not sorry.

Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy 🥁 anon! 🖤✨

Denial is a river in Egypt because Joker refuses to admit that he loves you! But he's a man where the saying, "Actions speak louder than words” applies. He won't say it (lol Meg from Hercules) but there will be signs he’s in love.

Joker is already attentive but he's even more so as he begins to accept his feelings. He listens and retains the tiniest details about you so he can use the information for later. J shocks you when he remembers your obscure food order (and the extra sauces) when you only said it once in passing three months ago. Joker doesn't know, but his love language is heavy influenced by actions.

Another sign is Joker being more supportive. He's always in your corner motivating you to do anything you set your mind to but now he's more focused on your future with him. If you want a promotion, one is suspiciously available the next week or if you can't take the stress of your job and want to quit, Joker will offer to support you financially. You ask for it, Joker will make it happen.

Joker becomes more protective than ever. If the security cameras and secret detail wasn't enough proof how much Joker loves you, the way his eyes never leave your sight in public, the way he rests his hand on your lower back in crowds, or protects you from danger (that he may or may not have caused) is telling. Joker has never been a knight in shining armor before and he loves having something to protect. He will always protect his Light and takes his responsibility seriously.

Once he admits he's falling hard, Joker will become clingy and start introducing his love language of physical touch to you more. For years, he never let anyone close but you have that honor now. He holds you close while you're cooking, he plays with your hands during movie night marathons, and he denies enjoying cuddles—he's just cold—but you know better. Joker can't stop touching you in someway shape or fashion. He’s addicted now.

Which brings us to another sign. Gift giving is another one of Joker's strong love languages but this man will deny deny deny ever getting you anything!! He leaves them around for you to find and dramatically gasps when you do. "Gee Bunny, I don’t know why there's a shiny new hand bag on your bed.. I didn't know ya liked 'em." Or, "Ya don't know your own closet Bunny? This new winter coat still has the uhh, tag on it." Followed by a, "What a coincidence! Twenty-nine reported subway muggings just this week and you win a uhhh surprise car! Don't ya re-mem-ber entering that contest doll?" Joker loves buying you things but he sucks at lying.

Joker tends to forget his version of love is not normal so he gets possessive a lot. He's a jealous man by nature and if he sees competition, he will eliminate it. You don't need to know why the flirtatious guy at the front lobby no longer works there, or the guy that gave you his number was found dead the following day.. The thing is! Joker finally admitted that he loves you! He will not let anyone take you away from him.

Another sign from Joker is his sudden willingness to communicate. J is a mysterious, closed off individual. Its an honor to know anything about him so when J sits you down and opens up about his time spent in Arkham or explains what his childhood was like (but cautious, it could still be lies)— consider it a miracle. Joker is opening up to you! He wants you to know more about him and his shy, hesitant eyes staring into yours shows that he's vulnerable doing so. Don't take advantage of him in this state or you'll lose him forever.

Speaking of forever, you know Joker is all about planning. His backup plans have backup plans from B-Z. One day he found himself staring up at the ceiling planning on how to make things official with you and now it’s all he can think about. You’re not a secret and he’s tired of treating you like one. It'll be dangerous if he announces you as his girl, (you'll never be safe) but Joker wants the world to know that you love him so he stares off into the void and plots a way for it to work.

Contrary to popular belief Joker is not cold hearted. He can be passionate when the need arises and he cranks it up to 100% with you. Joker never had a healthy relationship so he tends to forget the intensity in which he loves you. He has so much emotion to give that he literally leaves you breathless. His kisses are greedy and desperate, and the way he clings to you during sex makes you combust with love. This man doesn't even know he can destroy you with a single touch and it’s better he remains blissfully unaware.

And lastly. The ultimate sign that Joker loves you. The moment Joker takes you to his main hideout, walking hand in hand, where anyone can see— is the moment you know he loves you. When Joker exposes you to his world, there’s no going back. You’re the one and when he orders all of his men in for a manatory meeting you're in tears. It’s finally happening.

"Good evening gentle men. I have a special announcement tonight." Joker pulls you to stand in front of him and proceeds to wrap his arms around you possessively.

Your heart is beating out of your chest while all of these men stare at you in shock. You don't blame them.

Joker is nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck but you miss the dark gleam in his eyes. They spell murder for anyone that dares to defy him. He scanned the crowd, looking for any naysayers.

"This is my Bunny and I'll kill anyone.. who's gotta problem with it."

[antiromanticbaby]

Kingdoms - Obey Me TSL

[✧] ー Have you ever wondered how each kingdom in the Tale of Seven Lords looks? Part 2 of my TSL rants <3 all of them will come with the tag #♡ ┊ tsl rants by pk.

[✧] ー extra: Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Luke and even Solomon's places are mentioned too :)

The Main Three:

♡ ┊ There are three empires over all. Where angels, the holy creatures of light reside, is named Aurum. And where the Demons, creatures of darkness and sin reside, is named Sumbra. And then there is the land of humans, the place were creatures hold both darkness and light within themselves, known as Equilibrium.

♡ ┊ Aurum is ruled by a group of higher up angels named 'Father'. That father doesn't exist, but many believe it to do, especially the humans of Equilibrium. Some of the angels are known of these dark truths, and flee. The angel Simeon and the young angel in training Luke are two examples of the ones who flee, and live in Sumbra. The kingdom of demons, Sumbra, has one main Emperor, known as the King of Lords. That is where Lord Diavolo stands. That part of Sumbra is pretty much like a capital and has its own dukes, counts, etc. The roles are mostly based on Ars Goetia, much like Duke Barbatos. There are six kingdoms in Sumbra, ruled over by the seven overlords.

♡ ┊ And last but not the least is Equilibrium. The main king is King Solomon the wise, but the king himself is not seen much and is only named in stories. King Solomon the wise has disguised himself as a traveller between the three worlds and is known as a sorcerer.

Lord of Corruption:

♡ ┊ The Lord of Corruption's kingdom is by far, the coldest. Full of tall mountains and snow, and corrupted shadows. It is as if clouds are always looming over the kingdom throughout the daytime, and it's very rare for the people to see the sun. Nights are usually clear, but the shadows are ever lasting. The people in Lord of Corruption's domain are known for their harsh exterior but soft hearts, and they're very good when it comes to taming and controlling others. People are mostly wearing warm clothing, and they're very formal.

Lord of Fools:

♡ ┊ A deserted area, but full of glory. Imagine ancient Egypt, but make it eve more magical and elegant. The weather is usually hot, even in winters. As I stated in my other post, I like to imagine that his kingdom has multiple mines of gold and diamond, and many palaces like ancient middle eastern asian countries. The people are known for their good trades and they have connections all over Sumbra, some having connections in Equilibrium too. While Lord of Shadow's domain is good at training knights and war, Lord of Fool's domain is known for their wealth and connection, which makes them very scary.

Lord of Shadow:

♡ ┊ A fantasy kingdom, surrounded by water. The weather is amazing, if you enjoy being around seas a lot. Most of the people have their own sea pets and are great swimmers. I've once read that Levi trained and lead soldiers in wars, and so, I believe his kingdom in the TSL series is also good at training knights. The best knights in Sumbra are trained in Lord of Shadow's domain and have a badge that indicates that they've been trained there. They have huge troops of soldiers for wars and are known for their shape shifting abilities.

Lord of Masks:

♡ ┊ Have you ever seen pictures of magical forests where elves live? Where fairies fly around freely and magical animals walk around? That's the vibes I get when I think of the Lord of Masks. Also, many mystical animals are there. From golden deers to six eyed cats. The weather can be like rainy forests in summer, or as cold as the night in a desert. The whole kingdom, overall, gives cottagecore vibes. The people are known for their talent in plays and theatres. And if you want to read a good book, the best writers are from Lord of Masks' territory.

Lord of Lechery:

♡ ┊ Again another kingdom within mountains, but unlike Lord of Corruption's kingdom, Lord of Lechery's kingdom has warmer weather and more colorful flowers. Lord of Lechery's kingdom, or Asmo's kingdom, is also home to colorful birds and creatures that can live in mountains. Mostly birds though. The people are known for their fashion and amazing taste in colors. They're not that strong when it comes to war and magic, unlike Lord of Masks or Lord of Shadows, but the kingdom is supported by many. Many of the people don't see a reason for war either, why fight when all the other kingdoms love them and their lines of clothing?

Lord of Flies and Lord of Emptiness:

♡ ┊ The kingdom of sun and moon, the empire of light and dark. Where the skies are truly a sight and miracles happen. The kingdom is huge enough that it has been divided to two sides: The Sun, The Moon. This kingdom attracts many tourists, because sun and moon co-exist, they see each other everyday and even if they move, they're still together in the sky (which makes a very beautiful sight).

♡ ┊ Much like the kingdom itself, the people also have two sides. But that doesn't make them 'bad'. They have very delicious food and galaxy themed art. Things you can never find in other places of the world. There many accurate fortune tellers there and people who can read stars for multiple purposes, not just finding their way. The weather depends on where you are, the part dedicated to Lord of Flies? Pretty warm. Mind you, flies do exist there, and they adore the temperature. The part dedicated to Lord of Emptiness? You might need a blanket or too, but don't worry, it's not as cold of Lord of Corruption's domain.

These have been done for RP purposes. Shoot a message if you'd like to rp <;3 what should the next part be? wedding traditions? souvenirs? [Part 1]