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fairyysoup · 9 months ago

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the devil i know

chapter three: i smoke out your darkest side

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Your favorite accidental demon boy toy maims your piece of shit manager, learns a bit about your past, and visits you in a dream.

cw: explicit, witch!reader, reader is 21+, eddie is immortal, deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, wet dreams, lucid dreaming, handjobs, skin on skin grinding, teasing, horror, very intense bodily harm done to a minor character (tongues are lost), blood, gore, bullying/harassment, mention of past abusive ex, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

EASTWICK, YOUR JUNIOR YEAR

The book you found at the garage sale a town over has to be fake. Right? You’ve spent weeks flipping through it, looking at the pages and reading the words over and over, trying to somehow carve them into your memory.

It seems so improbable, but the notion bounces around in your skull for so long that it grips hold somewhere in there, wiggling down into your belief system until you just can’t seem to get rid of it.

Magic is real. Witchcraft exists. It has existed, in different forms, throughout history. You’ve just never considered that you could practice it for yourself, until now.

Part of the reason that you decide to try it is that you want to see what’ll happen. You have an insatiable curiosity, and if it works out, you may have just discovered the cure to all that ails you, so to speak. But the other part of it is a quiet desperation for something more.

Being sixteen sucks. But being sixteen in a small, puritanical town that’s stuck in the past, when you’re considered too weird to eat in the cafeteria without getting wads of gum stuck into your hair by the assholes on the football team, is worse.

You have no support system, and no way out. Your family won’t even pretend to understand. So, you’re taking to naïve leaps of faith, instead.

The moon is bright enough to illuminate the clouds moving in the sky around it. The air is thick with late spring mugginess and oncoming rain, stifling your skin. The candles arranged in a circle around you don’t help with the heat. Beneath you on the dirt, you’ve used red painter’s pigment to sketch out a pentacle, for lack of a better understanding of how to “cast a circle.”

In your hand, the little cloth doll you’d amateurly sewn together stares back at you with two black button eyes. You’d been very careful when you clipped off a piece of Matt Anderson’s backpack strap to tie around its neck. The wad of ABC gum that he’d shoved into your hair is wrapped in it, and stuffed inside the doll’s body, making it lumpy– but it doesn’t have to look perfect.

It just has to work.

You pick up a cheap plastic cigarette lighter and flick it on. The flame glows yellow in the dark, illuminating the crude red smiley face you’d drawn onto the doll’s head.

Fucking Matt.

The polyester cloth sizzles when you hold the flame to it, barely singeing the edges. All your rage, all your pent up anger and aggression toward him and the impromptu haircut he caused, floods out of you. The smiley face warps. One of the little button eyes pops off. The stuffing inside is going to catch on in a second–

“Oh, my GOD. What are you doing?”

You drop the lighter with a yelp. Over your backyard fence, your neighbor, Jessica, stares at you with wide eyes.

Jessica is your age, your longtime neighbor and one-time friend, when you were very little. You grew apart in middle school, when she discovered cheerleading and you discovered teen angst. She doesn’t talk to you much anymore, unless it’s to give you a hollow, backhanded compliment.

“Jess– I didn’t– what are you doing?” You squint at her in the darkness. Her blonde hair is up in foam rollers, a baby blue bathrobe wrapped around her willowy shoulders.

“Well I saw fire out here when I was getting ready for bed and I wanted to see what was– I wanted to make sure you weren’t, like, in trouble.” She takes in the circle of candles around the red pentacle, the lighter, the mutilated doll in your hand. “Are you, like… a Devil worshipper?”

“What?” You stand up, still clutching the doll in your hand. “No, why would you ask that?”

“Well, I mean… Reverend Tanner was talking about ‘em in church the other day, and I just thought…” She looks you up and down. Her eyes linger on your oversized Black Sabbath t-shirt, your hands covered in red pigment and soot from the spell you were attempting. “It’s okay, I’m not gonna say anything. I promise.”

“Jess, I’m not a Devil wor–”

“It’s… it’s alright. It’ll be our secret.” Jessica gives you a wobbly, forced smile that you know means she’s lying.

Your eye twitches in annoyance. You probably should say something. Plead your case, make her understand that this isn’t Devil worship. Tell her that whatever the hell she listens to the preacher at the local parish say about ‘lunatic Satan worshippers consorting with the Devil’ doesn’t apply to you, and frankly, probably doesn’t exist the way she thinks it does.

Instead, you just sigh. You can’t foresee her being as big of a problem as Matt or any of his cronies. She isn’t vindictive as all that. “Sure, Jess. Our secret.”

“I, um. Sorry, I’m just gonna…” Jessica gestures over her shoulder, and then retreats back toward her house. Her fluffy pink slippers scuff the wood of her patio as she glances back at you cautiously, like she’s afraid you’ll chase after her.

You watch her disappear inside. Then, with a roll of your eyes, you irritatedly hold the lighter’s flame to the Matt doll, and let it catch fire in your hands. You toss it into an empty Folgers coffee canister and let it burn to shit before you blow out the candles and go back inside. The pentacle on the ground will be washed away with the rain by the morning.

Fuck it all.

As soon as Colin enters his house, Eddie appears on the horizon like a stoic angel bearing a message.

Actually, that’s a fucking lie. He makes the walls cry blood. Always wanted to do that, at least once.

Colin’s a little pipsqueak of a guy in his early thirties, with prematurely thinning hair and skinny legs that make his pants look way too big on him no matter what size he wears. Eddie finds it hard to take him seriously– especially when he’s cowering in a corner brandishing a wooden crucifix like Eddie’s some kind of movie vampire.

“Colin– hey.” Eddie smacks the crucifix out of the guy’s hand, sending it clattering across the floor. Red ooze drips over Colin’s shoulder as he flinches away, whimpering and crying. Eddie rolls his eyes. “Christ, you people are so easy to scare. Okay. Here’s how this is gonna go– you’re gonna quit your job, and I’m gonna make you vomit green pea soup, and then we both go our separate ways and never have to see each other again. Sound good?”

Eddie pauses, tilting his head and squinting at Colin as he starts whispering something. It’s so quiet and wobbly with tears that he can’t quite make it out, so he has to lean close to Colin’s trembling face.

“–thy kingdom come thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, give us this day our daily bread–”

Eddie sighs. “That’s not gonna work.”

“–forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us–”

“Colin, I’m losing my patience.”

“–lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil–”

“COLIN!” Eddie’s head explodes into a storm of snarling beasts, screeching demons and eldritch beings whirling around each other in a tempest that could rival the Tasmanian Devil. A monstrous jaw with three rows of razor sharp teeth unhinges in front of Colin’s screaming face, roaring at him, showing him the glowing pit of hellfire deep in Eddie’s chest.

Colin continues shrieking even after Eddie’s face returns to normal. Eddie rocks back on his heels, inching away from the puddle of urine Colin just released onto the floor.

“I warned you,” Eddie murmurs. “Needed you to shut up. Now,” Eddie snatches Colin’s phone from the coffee table, pushing it at him. “Call your stupid fucking boss and quit your job so I can get back to my girl.”

Blubbering, Colin juggles the phone in his trembling hands. It takes three tries for him to unlock the damn thing.

After it’s done, Eddie takes the phone from Colin and tosses it over his shoulder. “You just got off so fucking easy– they teach you those fucking manners in Sunday school, too? Stealing tips, making her clean the goddamn bathrooms on her hands and knees. I’d love to kick your teeth in–”

“W-wait–” Colin sniffles, sitting up in his corner. “That’s your girl? The witch?”

Eddie leans back, his jaw clicking into place as he readjusts it– unhinging it like that always misaligns it. He scrutinizes Colin’s expression; the blubbering, frightened little cretin is gone, replaced by a wild eyed and angry zealot.

“Oh, my god. Oh my GOD, so it’s true?” Colin laughs hysterically. “You know they say she burned down her neighbors house because they saw her worshiping the Devil?”

Eddie blinks. “What fucking year is this? 1692?”

Colin doesn’t answer, just continues, “And she never got caught. They couldn’t prove it was her. But now, I bet…”

Colin trails off. There’s something dark and menacing in Eddie’s eyes that wasn’t there before– not even when he lost his temper. Lava pools whirling and stormy, boiling and angry like the buildup before an eruption.

Fear shoots directly into Colin’s mind so hard that he gives a startled jump. After years of skillful practice, Eddie has figured out how to play with people’s emotions in quite the literal sense. Sometimes, he does it harder than necessary.

“I– I mean–” Colin backtracks, “I’m not gonna say anything. I promise. I– I fucking swear on my life–”

“I don’t care about your life,” Eddie says, his voice as flat as he can make it. “I care about hers.”

“Please– please don’t kill me!”

“No, I’m not gonna kill you.” Eddie looks momentarily as though he’s considering launching himself forward and throttling the cowering man, but he sets aside his sudden temperament. “I promised her that I wouldn’t. Which… complicates things.”

Colin squirms. “It… it does?”

“Mm.” Eddie nods, his hands pressed together under his nose as though in prayer. “Because you’re obviously not gonna keep your trap shut, so I have to do it for you.”

Eddie stands as Colin retches. His body contorts on the floor, wailing and gurgling until a projectile stream of blood bursts forth and splatters across the living room hearth. In the midst of the puddle of blood, a writhing tongue curls and twitches, severed on one end like it was cut with a sharp blade.

Colin collapses in a pool of his own fluids. He’ll live. Unfortunately.

Eddie dusts his hands off on his pants and whistles. Out of the shadows, the smoky impression of a dog appears, its glowing red eyes piercing through the darkness and mirroring Eddie’s.

“Dante,” Eddie mutters to the shadow of the rottweiler, standing at attention and waiting for instructions. The dog gives a short whuff of acknowledgement. Eddie snaps his fingers, points at Colin’s disembodied tongue. “Dinner.”

Dante barks and falls upon the tongue enthusiastically. It’s been a while since Eddie’s hellhounds had any fresh meat, only being fed by the souls of the condemned in the Otherworld.

Eddie turns around in a circle, staring around at Colin’s less than stellar apartment setup. He can’t really judge, he was never much of a housekeeper either, but this guy is on a whole other level.

It takes a minute, but he finds what he was looking for beneath Colin’s mattress– hilariously predictable– in a tin pencil box. There’s about $300 in cash, singles and fives and a few twenties in the mix. A couple receipts from a Coinstar machine, as well.

Eddie snatches up the wad of money and shoves it into his back pocket.

You’ve managed to have one or two lucid dreams in your life. In the past they’ve been something mundane– walking through a city or having a talk with an elderly gentleman on a park bench.

This one is different. You open your eyes to something entirely unexpected.

Your dream is bright and colorful, despite it being perpetually twilight. As you gain lucidity, you pick up on different things– damp grass on your bare back, skin on skin, a gentle caress up a naked thigh. You turn your head, and you find Eddie there next to you, stirring as if rousing from a dream of his own.

You– or, your subconscious– has already taken the liberty of stripping him of his clothes, and you lay in the tall grass of a meadow. Your arms are around him, your leg hooked over his waist. He pets your thigh, soft and gentle like he’s doing it mindlessly.

Your hand wraps around his cock and he startles, his eyes flying open as he gasps.

“Oh. This is, um…” Eddie turns his head towards you, snickering as a warm flush spreads across his cheeks. Ringed hands– because of course, your mind would keep the rings in there– come up to cover his face.

You giggle. “Hello, handsome.”

He grumbles something, but he doesn’t manage to say anything of real importance before he moans. You squeeze his cock and roll your wrist, stroking him torturously slow. He throbs in your grip, needy and jumping when you skim your fingers over the vein that runs along his shaft.

“Well, you, um–” Eddie huffs and cracks a smile, dragging his hands down his face as he does to clear away the grogginess that comes from stepping into the astral plane. “You sure know how to make a demon feel special.”

“Not what you had in mind?” you ask, and your voice has a sultry dip to it that makes the demon squirm.

“Mm, I figured–” Eddie’s breath catches in his throat when you lean over and spit onto his cock. The sound that kicks up from it is salacious, a lewd squelch that completely contradicts your pastoral surroundings. You watch him, as his mouth hangs open in shock for a moment. His head drops back against the ground, baring the jumping muscles of his long neck for your consideration. “Fuck– figured you dream about unicorns and lollipops or some shit.”

You hum, looking pointedly down at where your hand strokes him between his legs. “Well, you’re half right. S’what you get for hijacking my dream, you little shit,” you mutter, but it doesn’t come out as caustically as you want it to, because you litter his chest with kisses.

“I just wanted to talk.” He tilts his head, giving you a pointed look. “You seem to have other plans.”

“Well, it’s my dream, and you caught me in a mood, so.” You shrug, rolling your thumb over the head of his cock. You’re gazing down at it like it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen, with heavy-lidded eyes and your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

Eddie groans and bucks his hips up into your fist. His hand comes up to grab your shoulder, a warm touch that sends a shudder through you. “Remind me to do that more often?”

You shake your head slowly. “Nuh-uh, this is a one time thing. You said you wanted to talk, so talk.”

You hadn’t realized just how much his presence would affect you, even just in your dreams. Everything about him screams for you to unhinge yourself, against your better judgment; his eyes, his scent, even his voice beckons you. Something not quite human or tangible pulls at your senses and clutches at your chest, and you’re not sure if it’s hunger or lust or something else entirely, some other primitive urge that you’re feeling in force.

Eddie sucks in a long breath through his teeth, his eyes falling to your hand as it works over him. His own tremble, holding back from touching you how he wants.

“There’s, um. You asked me to– uh–” You start trailing your tongue along his chest in a way that makes him lose his train of thought, your lips dragging over his skin, heavenly soft. “Uhhh– not kill that guy for you. So I didn’t.”

“Good.”

“I cut out his tongue, though.”

“Eddie.”

“Sorry.” He isn’t, really. You can feel it, and you can see it in the ghost of a smile on his face. “He was gonna say some shit about you worshipping the Devil. Called you a witch.”

“Everyone already does. And they’re right, aren’t they?” You sigh, and your breath whispers across his overheated skin. “I’m worshipping a devil right now.”

You’re bolder in your sleep. You guess because, to your subconscious mind, there isn’t as much to be afraid of in dreams. Especially in dreams that you can control. All your hang-ups are, well… hung up. And you can let yourself be as promiscuous as you want, at least until you wake up.

You bite at a spot on his neck that makes him lose his composure. Eddie chews his lip and groans, his eyes nearly rolling back into his skull. He grabs your hip and flips you, until your back hits the grass and his hips rest between your legs.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you gaze up at him. Eddie’s beautiful, so impossibly stunning that it nearly frightens you, almost as much as this aching want burning inside of you does. His dark hair hanging around his face, his flushed skin and glowing amber eyes. He’s the picture of immortal beauty and power, and he’s yours.

His lips are so close to yours, his mouth open so that his breath gets caught in your lungs. His nose bumping your own, almost like he means to kiss you.

Eddie rocks his hips, and you feel his erection grind against your cunt. Splitting the seam of your pussy, parting around him as he slides the length of it against you, getting it wet with your arousal. He isn’t… he isn’t fucking you, per se. But it would take just the slightest hitch of his hips, just a little press forward to change that.

You whimper, clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his back. “Eddie…”

“So you want to play games, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and bassy in his chest.

You roll your hips up into his. You can’t help it– the slick, soft glide of his cock through your folds, the head catching against your clit feels too good. His lips on your skin, his breath in your ear. It’s been way too fucking long for you, since someone touched you like this. Your head drops back on your shoulders, your back arching as you moan–

You wake up.

You fucking. Wake. Up.

You lay, disoriented, on your bed. Your hand rests on your sweaty forehead as your pussy throbs, hot and angry between your legs. Seething with rage and neglect, begging for the job to be finished.

It was so real. It felt so real, and so good, and you had to go and ruin it.

His scent remains. His smoke fills your lungs, eating up all your oxygen and making your head spin. You struggle to find your balance somehow, trying to quell the ache between your legs, trying to snap back to a reality where you weren’t just about to fuck your dream demon.

“Did you burn down someone’s house?”

You yelp, bolting to sit up in bed. His scent wasn’t just a leftover memory from your dream. You search through the darkness until your eyes find him sitting in the antique chair in the corner of your room, facing the bed, lit only by streaks of light filtering through the blinds from the streetlamp outside. He reclines, immobile, seemingly relaxed as his eyes glow warm and nearly gold in the low light.

You simply cannot handle this right now. Not while you’re coming down from a very near orgasm you just had because of him.

“What?”

“The guy, Colin–” Eddie continues, as if he’s completely unaware of the absolute torture you’re going through. “He said you burned down someone’s house. Your neighbor’s?”

You wonder for a moment if you could hate him for this, but you already know the answer. You could never hate him. Not really.

“C’mon, you can tell me,” he coos, and then winks. “Tell me and I’ll give you a present.”

You squint at him. He can’t possibly mean what you think he means. You get a mental image of him between your legs, his eyes glowing as he peers up at you, his mouth closed over your cunt.

He smirks like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. The fucker.

“Yeah,” you admit, drawing your knees up to your chest. “Yeah, uh. My fucking neighbor– she started a rumor that I was a Satanist in high school. Got everyone in on it. So, I threw a Molotov through her kitchen window.”

Eddie nods slowly. “Amazing de-escalation tactic.”

“It’s not like I genuinely tried to burn down the place,” you huff. “How was I supposed to know they’d just had the floor waxed?”

Eddie laughs, rocking forward in his seat. His eyes sparkle and his smile is sharp when he pulls a wad of money out of his pocket, holding it up between two fingers. “Your tip money. Your wish, my command.”

You’re taken aback, gazing at the paper that seems so bright in the darkness. “Well, that was relatively painless.”

“Was it?” It’s barely a whisper, but something you were meant to hear. Holding his jaw in his hand, fingers splayed across his cheek, he watches you with growing intensity. “Come and take it, then.”

The knowing smile on his lips issues a challenge, one that you would walk away from in any other circumstance. He knows very well what he’s doing. He can read your thoughts, that much is obvious. And since it seems they’re always in the gutter now, he knows how you’re squirming beneath your skin at the sight of him.

You wonder if you were really the one who ended the dream.

Refusing to breathe– you’re afraid that if you do, the sound of it would give you away– you crawl out of your bed and stand on shaky legs. One look at him tells you he’s gloating, watching the way that you struggle.

Ohhhh you hate him. You hate him, you hate him.

You cross the room toward him, moving slower than necessary in order to steel yourself to the shortening distance between you. You stop short of his legs, extended out and crossed at the ankles.

Eddie doesn’t move, his elevated hand still holding the wad of money. “C’mon then, tough girl.”

You stare at him, trying not to give yourself away, trying for all the world not to scream or throw yourself on him. You hesitantly step forward and snatch the money out of his hand before taking a long step back.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you say mildly, trying to keep your voice steady. Even his name sends a rush of warmth through you. The word burns on your wrist. Your body shakes against your will.

Shit. Fuck. God damn it.

He chuckles, standing from the chair, looming over you. “Anything else I can help you with?”

You squint up at him, your voice shaking as much as your hands, now. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right. It was a one time thing, wasn’t it?”

The expression on his face is somewhere between affection and condescension as he suppresses a grin. His hand comes up and he pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, urging you to look up into his eyes.

A note of fondness oozes into his tone. “Don’t play games with me, sweetheart. You won’t win.”

Eddie’s touch sends a shock wave through your body, a shiver so strong that your eyes flutter shut. His voice is so soft, so lovingly gentle that it nearly makes you break down, knees weakening, head spinning.

He leans forward, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. “I’ll be here, whenever you change your mind.”

There’s an edge to his voice, a tone that hints at some sort of plea in there. You don’t know what it could be for– sex? Your trust?

You trust him to protect you. You approach him the same way you might approach a spirit in your house– unfamiliar, sure, but not immediately a threat as far as you know. Here, let me offer you half of my muffin as long as you don’t set my house on fire, okay? Maybe don’t kill that guy. Or maybe do. Depends on my mood.

You purse your lips, thankful that he doesn’t look at you when you say, “I know.”

You sound a lot more sure than you feel. You desperately want to grab him and kiss him, throw him on the bed and finish what you started in that dream.

Except, you’re afraid. A dream is one thing; sex in the waking world is another. You’re tiptoeing around some strange patron demon-human relationship that you don’t know how to navigate. It’s in the contract that you have to fuck him, eventually. But you and relationships don’t have a good history, and you’re a little frightened that if you make that leap on your own, it’s only going to end badly.

You think of Andy. You think of your abusive ex who still just hangs around, waiting to intimidate you. You think of the reason why you went out to make a deal with Eddie, and you think of the dog tag that you buried as an offering because Andy had taken the last thing you truly loved from you.

You know that Eddie isn’t just some normal guy you’re dealing with. Your attraction to him goes against everything that you understand, but it makes sense, doesn’t it? Because you try. You try and try, and you’re a good girl until you’re pushed too far, and then you do something stupid like make a deal with a demon because you’re sick of having to just be strong on your own. And suddenly you want to fuck that demon’s brains out so bad that it’s keeping you up at night.

But… you don’t know him. Not really. And as bad as you want him, with your body screaming for him, it’s still enough to make you hesitate.

There’s a subtle movement of Eddie’s head, like maybe he can sense your indecision. Maybe he’ll end that torture for you. He’ll read the brimming anxiety in your thoughts and give you what you’re too afraid to ask for. Sex. Sex with Eddie. Sex with your demon… whatever he is.

Sex with his infernal majesty of freaks and misfits.

But he doesn’t. Without another word, Eddie turns, and he disappears into your bedroom mirror. Leaving you to flop down onto your bed, punch your pillow, and scream.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #tdik!fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #demon!eddie #demon!eddie munson #roses*

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a-babe-without-a-name · 3 months ago

Text

Sit Next To Me

Chapter 7: 65 Days

You had created two rules for yourself.

Rule One: You could do whatever you wanted. Get the degree you want, party when you want, cancel plans when you want, love who you want. Whatever you really wanted to do, you were going to do, anxiety and guilt free.

Rule Two: You could do whatever you wanted, except for have relationships with classmates. No sex, no dating. If they were on the same course roster as you, they were off limits.

Easy enough, right?

…Right?

Viktor x Female!Reader - 18+

A.N. Sorry for the delay on this chapter!! My laptop broke, so that kinda put writing to a halt for a bit. We're back in business, though!

ALSO!! In incredible and crazy news! @nervousandaggressive made fanart for this fic?!?!?! Which is so cool and I am so incredibly honored that my writing inspired it. I straight up cried when I got the notification, because this is genuinely the coolest thing ever. Links below for the art, and check out their page for their other work :)

Vik in his party outfit from last chapter

And some Vik + Rio sketches!!!

Read on AO3

When you woke in the morning, you told yourself that the memories of last night had just been a dream, the type that turned into a nightmare right before waking up. The ache in your jaw and Lest’s empty bed told you otherwise. Viktor’s heavy coat was still wrapped tightly around you, holding in an unnecessary amount of body heat. You shifted uncomfortably, sitting up on your forearms with a groan. You felt dirty, in the same sweat soaked clothes as last night, makeup smeared around your eyes, and teeth unbrushed. Which, considering the service you had provided last night, was particularly uncomfortable.

You slid off the bed. You hadn’t felt drunk when walking home last night, but a wave of nausea and the way your legs shook told you that your body was still struggling against the alcohol in your system. You steadied yourself against the bed, waiting out the feeling. When you were sure you’d be able to walk without throwing up Red Bull and vodka, you pulled the blinds shut and began to peel off last night's layers.

You shrugged out of his coat, inspecting it for any rogue makeup or glitter you may have left on it. Luckily it stayed clean while you slept. During your examination, you did find ‘V. Sýkora’ stitched sweetly into the back of the collar, just above the flannel lining. The red thread was faded and fraying on some of the letters, worn in with the jacket over time. You pressed the collar to your nose, breathing in the scent of him. It was stronger on this than on either of the shirts you had stolen from him, you wished you could live in it forever. He wore this coat nearly every day though, he'd want it back. He probably wanted his t-shirts back, too. Tears pricked your eyes, not at the idea of giving him back his clothes, but at how much of a mess you had let this become.

You sighed, draping the coat over the back of your desk chair and continuing to get undressed. You had fallen asleep fully dressed, only managing to kick your sneakers off before climbing into bed. The tall socks had left itchy red lines around your thighs and the grass stains on the knees reached your skin. You tossed them, along with the rest of your clothes, into your laundry bag before heading to the shower where you were sure to spend most of your time overthinking.

-----

Before your hair even had time to dry, you were hesitating in front of Sky’s door. Every time you were about to step foot onto her cutesy welcome mat, a fresh rush of cowardice would send you reeling back down the hall. You stood there, fine-tuning the apology you had written in the shower for a few more seconds before walking back to the door. You did this what felt like a dozen times.

You did this until Sky’s door opened on its own as you retreated once again. You gasped and spun around, expecting to see Sky heading out to enjoy her Saturday. Instead you were met with the sight of Viktor in the open door frame. He furrowed his eyebrows, taking you in for a moment before glancing over his shoulder and shutting the door behind him. He took a hesitant step, fist tight around the handle of his cane. His face held the same slight tension as when he was pouring over a new concept in class he didn’t quite understand yet. He opened his mouth, words hanging just behind his teeth, but decided against it. You couldn’t speak to him. Not right now, and to some degree he could tell. He let out a short, shaking breath and walked past you without a word.

That was enough to force you to Sky’s door, giving a sharp knock before you could back down. Your fists were balled at your sides in an effort to keep you from picking at the skin around your nails. Instead you opted to dig the tips of your nails into the palm of your hands, hard enough to leave marks. When Sky opened the door a tired question of Viktor’s name was halfway out of her mouth, falling short when she saw it was you instead.

“Oh,” She eyed you with a tired hesitation.

“Hey,” You said, curling your shoulders in on yourself and slouching, hoping to ease any idea that you came here in anger, “Could we…could I talk to you?”

She nodded, still watching you cautiously as she let you into her room. Her bed was unmade and she was still in her PJs. Viktor must have woken her up. Part of you felt bad for interrupting her morning, but this had to happen now or you knew you’d never do it.

“What’s up?” Sky shifted her weight from foot to foot, her arms were crossed over her stomach protectively, fingers yanking at a loose thread on her sweatshirt.

“Sky I…” Your throat closed up, the apology speech you had rehearsed on the walk to her dorm room drying to a crisp on your tongue.

“Listen, It’s fine,” She let out a heavy sigh, shaking her head as she tried to brush you off, “Lest shouldn’t have said anything, it doesn’t need to be a thing.”

“It already is a thing,” You pointed out, nails back to digging in your skin, “Just…give me a second, okay.”

She sighed, looking at you the same way someone would look at a wet stray cat, with pity and disgust.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” She said, turning to the counter under the window behind her. Two used mugs already sat there, she must have offered Viktor the same thing.

“Yes please,” Having something in your hand would make this easier.

Sky pulled out a fresh mug, dropping a teabag in as she started the kettle up. You followed her lead as she took a seat in her desk chair. The other one already angled towards her, where Viktor had been only minutes ago. The water only took a few seconds to boil, already warm from earlier, and she stayed sitting as she reached over to fill the mugs. You took the one she slid towards you, holding it tightly. Letting the hot water reach through the ceramic to burn your palms. She watched you expectantly, waiting for you to say what you came here to say.

You took a heavy breath, hoping you didn’t look too pitiful when you told her, “I’m so sorry, Sky.”

She nodded, taking a sip of her tea. Letting you go on.

“I’ve been a horrible friend,,” You tried to organize your thoughts from earlier, “and I don’t…I don’t expect to be forgiven. I just need you to know that I know. I know how I’ve been acting. I know I’ve been childish and nasty. I knew you liked him, I knew you were talking to him first, and I still crossed that line. I tried to lie to myself and say it didn’t matter, that I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but we both know that’s not true…”

You let out a shaky breath, realizing your apology was on the verge of becoming a jumbled mess, “And I’m so so sorry. If I could go back and undo it all, I would…but I can’t. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Sky stared into her mug. Chewing on the inside of her cheek as she conjured up a response.

“Viktor turned me down,” She told you, meeting your eyes and giving a sad laugh, “Just now. Part of me knew he would when I asked him out, but when he didn’t give me an answer right away, I just…hoped I guess. I shouldn’t have, I mean, he’s obsessed with you. I don’t think everyone else sees it yet, but for months I’ve been watching him watch you.”

“Sky I-” You shook your head, trying to protest, but she raised a hand to stop you.

“C’mon, I know you know,” She scoffed, rolling her eyes at you, “How couldn’t you? It honestly baffles me that you won’t just date him, like fucking around with him at parties and spending all your time with him isn’t practically the same thing.”

You tried to hide the way her words made you flinch. You wondered if the rest of your friends could see what was going on. If you were really this obvious.

“I never thought you’d be…mean?” She said the word like it wasn’t quite the right descriptor, “To me. Despite all of it. Despite the fact that I am certainly not a threat to whatever it is you want from him. Then last night you went out of your way to get what you wanted, because you always have to get what you want.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, she didn’t let you.

“Don’t pretend like it wasn’t on purpose. I saw you.” She said, leaning forward in her seat, “I saw you last night, watching us. The second you decided he was giving me too much attention, you took him back, blew him in the backyard to remind him who he really wanted.”

You couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes, blinking them back. Urging them not to fall. It was an odd feeling, to be scolded by the kindest person you knew. It was embarrassing.

Sky gave an exhausted sigh, “But, at some point I think I moved on without realizing it. I expected it to hurt when he told me no. I expected to be a mess, the kind that can only be cleaned up by romcoms and a pint of ice cream. But, when he gave me his answer, I didn’t care. I’m glad he apologized for being a dick,” She laughed softly, “But I’m also glad he didn’t decide that he wanted to be with me all of the sudden, because that's not what I want anymore.”

You stared down at the undrank tea in your hand. Still hot, but going cold as you tried to piece together what she was saying.

“Basically,” She huffed, “I just don’t give a fuck anymore. You and Viktor can do whatever the hell you want. Fuck him, marry him, kill him for all I care,” She snorted a laugh, you could feel the tension ebbing away, “I don’t want him. All I want is for everything to go back to the way it was. I miss hanging out with you without feeling like you want to push me into traffic.”

Her tone was joking, but the idea that she had been able to sense the misplaced animosity you harbored was rough.

“I…okay,” You nodded, setting the tea to the side, “So we’re good?”

“Mostly,” She said, as you both stood up, she let you pull her into a hug, her curly hair tickling your cheek as she decided to reciprocate, holding you close to her. She laughed against your shoulder, “You and him are still dickheads, though, and you’re lucky I’m not vindictive.”

You laughed, “I know. I’m glad you're being…cool about this. But I want you to know I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t forgive me. I do really love you, Sky, I should never have let myself act like that.”

She pulled away, hands on your arms, “Do me a favor and work on that jealousy thing, yeah? You’re too pretty to act like that, really.”

“Okay, mom,” You laughed, “Can I get you lunch today? I know you said we’re good, but I’m still willing to buy your forgiveness.”

“Not today,” She said, squeezing your arm and stepping back, “Me and Lest have plans, but next time we get drinks, it's on you.”

You tried not to flinch at the mention of Lest. She had spent the night here as far as you knew. She must have been heading back to the dorm as you were on your way here. Sky was quick to forgive, even if you didn’t deserve it. Lest, on the other hand, was going to be a wild card. She was most likely still carrying all the rage that Sky refused to cling on to. You wondered if she’d still be in the room when you got back. You weren’t sure if you wanted her to be or not.

On the way out, you grabbed Viktor’s jacket from a coat closet that probably hadn’t been used since the dorm had been built over half a century ago. You had hid it there as you came into the building, knowing that wearing his coat to talk to Sky would’ve been a bad look. You realized you should have told Viktor to grab it on his way out. It’d be fine. You were heading to his house anyways, your truck was still parked in his driveway. If you were lucky you’d be able to drop his coat off and snag your keys without running into him.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him. It was that you had no idea what to say to him. You had created this mess of friends and feelings and bad decisions, and it was going to take more than one conversation with Sky to smooth it all over completely. You didn’t bother zipping up the coat as you stepped outside. You let the cold air slither in along your body, embracing the bite of it as a kind of punishment for your mistakes.

You flinched as a grey car came to a stop against the curb a few feet in front of you. You bristled, preparing to tell off whatever man felt like bothering you today. When the window rolled down, you found yourself wishing it had in fact been a random man.

Viktor watched you in the side mirror, “Where are you going?”

“Home,” You lied, refusing to move closer to him.

“Your dorm is in the other direction,” He pointed out, when you didn’t say anything he sighed, “Would you like a ride to pick up your truck?”

“No, it’s fine.” You shook your head, “I can walk.”

He scolded you with your name, “It’s five degrees, you’ll get sick.”

“It was colder last night,” You said stubbornly, feet planted.

“Yeah, well you were drunk and upset last night,” He said, “And you shouldn’t have walked home in the first place.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“God above,” He groaned, shaking his head. The backlights of the BMW lit up as he shifted into reverse and backed up until his window was where you were standing. “Because you are my friend and I care about your wellbeing. “

You crossed your arms over your chest, fighting off a shiver as a particularly strong gust of wind pushed against you, “I’m fine.”

He rubbed the space between his eyebrows, eyes squeezed shut, “Get. In. The. Car.”

You resisted the urge to stomp your foot on the ground like a toddler. Instead you walked around the front of his car, dropping yourself into his passenger seat. You shut the door with more force than necessary and turned to him with a huff, “Happy?”

“Yes,” He nodded, putting the car into drive, “Put your seatbelt on.”

“Put your seatbelt on, please,” You leaned over, looking at him pointedly.

He rolled his eyes, then plastered a sickeningly sweet expression on his face, “Will you please put on your seatbelt, Darling.”

“Hm, that’s more like it,” You turned up your nose, sitting back in your seat and buckling up.

“Spratek,” He muttered under his breath as he pulled the car away from the curb.

You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you were glad you accepted the ride. His car was warm and overly clean and smelled like him. It felt like him, too, all clean lines and stoic shapes. Your European car knowledge was certainly lacking, but there was something eerily familiar about the interior of his car.

“Is this a…Touring,” You asked, running a fingertip over the handle of the door.

“Yes,” He confirmed, “19…89, yeah, 89. Not the nicest car in the world, but it does the job.”

“It’s the same car my first boyfriend had,” You scoffed, thinking about the junker you had spent too much time in, “I hated it. It was ugly and red and a mess all the time… lost my virginity in that piece of shit car.”

“Oh, hm, I’m…sorry,” He said it like a question, a little taken off guard by the admission.

“I like your’s more,” You mused, leaning back and watching campus grow smaller in the side mirror, “It’s nicer, feels better. The car, I mean… well, I guess the sex, too.”

You laughed softly at your own words, looking over to find a blush gracing his cheeks.

“Thank you,” He nodded awkwardly, staring straight ahead. The way his demeanor shifted never failed to amuse you. One second he’s demanding you get in his car like he owns you, the next he’s turning red when you mention you liked having sex with him.

“So…” You led, spinning one of your bracelets around your wrist, “What did you say to Sky? You don’t have to tell me… just curious.”

“I apologized,” He said, shrugging, “and I told her that I am not interested in her in that manner, and I shouldn’t have led her to believe that I was by not turning her down immediately. I did tell her that anything that is happening between us is none of her concern.”

You hummed to yourself, taking in his words. The way he said ‘us’ left a weight in your chest. Us. Us. Us.

“What about you?” He asked, glancing over, “What did you say?”

“I apologized for being a jealous bitch,” You scoffed, picking at the edge of your nail, “For being mean to her, breaking ‘girl-code’ and all that.” You rolled your eyes, feeling childish.

“I don’t understand,” He frowned, “What are you jealous about? What’s girl-code?”

“Girl code is basically, like, rules we’re supposed to follow,” You shrugged, realizing you had never had to explain the weird intricacies of being a girl to a man other than your father, “I mean, not like hard and fast rules, but basic stuff. Guys have the same thing, I’m sure. Things like keeping secrets or protecting each other, ya know. The number one rule, though, is to never ever fuck around with a guy your friend is interested in. Like, ever.”

“Hm, that only seems partially reasonable,” He said, “I told you that I was not interested in Sky before we had sex.”

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t matter,” You said, “I knew she liked you, and I fucked you anyways. That wasn’t cool.”

“But even if we had not had sex,” He frowned at the road like he was looking at chemistry on a chalkboard, “It wouldn’t change the fact that I am not interested in Sky.”

“Yes, I know, but that's not the point,” You exasperated, “It’s the principle of it.”

“That is dumb,” He said plainly.

“Well, fine, you can think it’s dumb,” You tossed your hands up, “But that doesn’t change the fact that I hurt Sky’s feelings.”

He was quiet for a moment, “How did she respond?”

“Graciously,” You sighed, “As always.”

“Why do you sound disappointed?” He asked, the car slowing as he pulled into the neighborhood.

“I’m not, It’s just that it felt,” You hesitated, trying to find the right words, “too easy? I guess.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know… I mean, she said that she doesn't care anymore,” You shrugged, “that she wants things to go back to normal and everything to just be cool, but I’m worried she’s still upset. That she’s just forgiving me to make it go away?”

“Well, if she is forgiving you before she’s ready,” He said slowly, “Then, that would be her problem, no? It’s not like you forced her to forgive you.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess?” Damn him for being so practical. You opened your mouth to continue to debate but he cut you off.

“Listen, you are not responsible for how other people feel,” He looked over sternly, “You apologized to Sky and, whether she’s ready to or not, she forgave you. At this point, it sounds more like you don’t forgive yourself, regardless of what she is feeling.”

Read you like a damn book. You huffed, dropping your head into your hands and scoffing a laugh, “I didn’t realize you were so introspective.”

“Jinx called me a fortune cookie last week,” He told you, “I’m not introspective, I’m just observant…and I think you are being too harsh on yourself. What good comes from dwelling on something that you aren’t even sure of?”

“I’m a scientist,” You laughed, leaning back in your seat, “Dwelling on the unknown is kind of our thing, right?”

“Kind of,” He agreed with a soft laugh, “But this is unproductive dwelling, not scientific dwelling.”

He slowed to a stop outside his house, car idling but not in park, both of you hesitating. Raindrops were beginning to darken the sidewalk and slide down the sides of your truck that sat waiting in the driveway. The wind whipped around a tree in the front yard.

Viktor spoke your name cautiously, “Do you have plans today?”

“No.” You said, looking over and meeting his eyes.

“Do you want to go on a drive?”

“Yes,” You spoke before he even finished his words and he was pulling away from the curb as you finished yours.

Picking up your truck and going back to your dorm room ment you’d either be laying around all day overthinking or you’d be having a conversation with Lest. You wanted to talk to her, you did, just…not right now. Sky had seemingly forgiven you, but that wasn’t a guarantee that Lest was in the same mood. Being on the good side of Lest’s rage, you knew how long it took for her to cool down. Being on this side was new to you, but you knew well enough to leave her alone for as long as you could. You weren't sure of Viktor’s reasoning for not going home, but you were grateful either way.

He just drove and you let yourself relax into the passenger seat. You watched him drive. Watched the perfect side profile of his face as he focused on the road, only moving as he glanced in the mirrors. He looked relaxed for the most part, but the tiniest motion of his eyes and lips let you know that thoughts were racing through his head. He glanced over you sideways, the corner of his mouth tugging just slightly upwards as he met your eyes.

“What?” You caught the slightest sight of his canine when he smiled.

“Nothing,” You shrugged not looking away from him, “You’re just nice to look at, is all.”

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the blush creeping past the collar of his sweater, “You are a strange girl.”

“Maybe,” You said, leaning forward to pull his jacket off your shoulders, you kept it gathered up on your lap.

“Here,” He grabbed his phone from where it was under the radio, an aux cord already plugged in, smirking as he handed it to you, “Stop staring at me and be useful, yeah?”

You scoffed, teasing him, “You thought I was useful last night…”

Another blush, he looked away from you this time as he sputtered, “Just- Just play the music, okay?”

“Yes sir,” You nodded firmly, taking his phone already opened on his music app, “Any requests?”

“Hm, no you choose.” He told you, hitting the blinker as the highway entrance came closer, “Just no Radiohead.”

“No Radiohead?” You mocked a gasp, “But If I wanted to be insufferable today?”

“I was insufferable enough for the both of us this morning,” He told you, “Pick something else.”

You laughed thinking about him listening to Thom Yorke whining over his radio as he drove to apologize to Sky, “Fine, but if it starts really raining later, we’re listening to In Rainbows, it’s only right.”

He just shook his head at you lightly as you scroll through his music to pick something. You took your time combing through his music. You always thought that music taste was the most telling aspect of a person. Some were what you’d expect from a guy like him - Radiohead, Arctic Monkeys, Fiona Apple, Jeff Buckley - some others you were a little surprised by - Paramore, Boygenius, Maya Hawke, Deftones - all of it what you’d consider good music. You were pleased to see female artists in the mix, older music, newer music, some classical and jazz, a few movie scores. Most of the albums were in English, a handful were in what you were pretty sure was Czech, and you could see one or two that were in Spanish - the same albums Jayce had put you onto.

You picked one of the ones you thought was in Czech, the green and white cover art interesting enough to get your attention. He made a little noise of surprise when the first song started playing.

“You know this band?” He asked, an eyebrow raised as he glanced at you.

“No,” You told him, the music was definitely pop, teetering on the edge of bedroom pop, “The cover looked cool, what does ‘nedělní Luka’ mean?”

“Sunday Luka,” He told you, “This EP is good, I’m not a huge fan of the stuff they released after this. They're a pretty good band, though.”

“Hm, interesting,” You tapped your thigh to the beat, listening to the words you didn’t understand, “I like this alot actually.”

“Even though you don’t understand the lyrics?” He smirked.

“Eh, I mean I like the Cocteau Twins and I definitely don’t understand the lyrics even though they're mostly in english,” You shrugged, “I’ll google the lyrics to this later, probably. Can I text it to myself?”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, “I can send you more czech stuff if you want?”

“Make me a playlist?” You asked, knowing how hopeful you sounded.

He laughed softly, “I can do that, I’ll pick the best stuff. Round out your music taste a little.”

“Hey, I have great music taste,” You scoffed in mock offense as you copied the link to the album and opened up his contacts.

You found your own number easily, starred at the top of the list along with Jayce and who you figured was his mother. You bit back a smile at the little ‘<3’ he had put at the end of your name. The picture above it wasn’t one you remembered him taking. It was from much earlier in the semester, when the weather was still nice. You were laying in the grass, probably on the quad telling by the abandoned textbook next to your shoulder, wearing that white sundress that only came out when the weather was particularly good. Your hands were behind your head, eyes closed as you basked in the sun. It was a good photo, you wondered if he’d be embarrassed if you asked him to send it to you.

A little embarrassment of your own was lifted off your shoulders. Clearly he stared at you as much as you stared at him.

You closed his phone before the urge to scroll through his camera roll became too strong and put it back where he had it originally. The eastbound highway that stretched out in front of you was fairly empty, rush hour having just ended. He stayed in the middle lane, shifting gears as he passed other cars he deemed to be going too slow.

“Where are we going?” You asked idly, reaching over to his hand that rested on the gear shift and pulling the cuff of his sweater between your fingertips. It was a little rougher than you had expected, You wondered if it was homemade.

He pulled his hand away from the shifter and caught your hand, fingers lacing into yours. In a friendly way of course, “Unsure, anywhere you’d like to go in particular?”

“Hm, wherever,” You told him, rubbing your thumb over the side of his hand.

“Let’s just see where we end up, I guess,” He shrugged, glancing over at you, “Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” You agreed, squeezing his palm.

You learned pretty quickly that Viktor preferred to drive fast. You noticed him glancing over for your reaction each time he really stepped on the gas. It was sweet, though you didn’t mind the speeding. You trusted him not to kill you in a fiery car wreck, maybe a little too much. When the highway had narrowed, he was forced to slow down, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel and clearly doing his best not to tailgate the people in front of him.

------

You weren't sure how long you had been on the highway. You hadn’t taken notice of the time when getting in Viktor’s car, but it was long enough for the suburban sprawl of Piltover to give way to dense pine forests divided only by farmland and tiny towns. Eventually the highway narrowed down to two lanes, winding through the trees until it hit the coastline where it took a sharp curve north. You watched the sprawl of the Atlantic outside your window, the waves dark and rough due to the weather. It had stopped raining above you, but out over the water you could see torrents falling in dark grey sheets.

An irritated noise from him pulled your attention away from the oceanscape to your right. He was pouting at the car in front of him, thumb bouncing against the side of the steering wheel. You looked ahead at the car in front. An old sticker covered a Subaru wagon, not going below the speed limit, if anything it was probably going almost ten over. Clearly that was not fast enough for Viktor, and a fairly consistent stream of traffic on the other side of the highway kept him from passing.

You laughed, leaning forward to examine the stickers on the car in front of you, “You’re in quite the rush to go nowhere, aren't ya,”

“Hey, I’m not rushing,” He insisted waving a hand at you, “I just want to be driving faster.”

“Well chill out speed racer,” You rolled your eyes at him, “You’re probably freaking out this poor lesbian in front of us, she’s gonna start break-checking you.”

“How do you know she is a lesbian,” He scoffed, but eased off the gas to give the subaru more space.

You leaned forward and read the sticker that had caught your attention, “I like my men how I like my coffee. Not at all, I prefer tea.”

Viktor barked a laugh, “Sounds like Cait.”

“Oh my god, literally,” You giggled, wondering if you'd be able to find a similar one online to gift her. You read out another sticker, “Honk if you think the moon landing was fake.”

“I don’t understand those,’ Viktor admitted, “Does that mean the driver thinks the moon landing was fake?”

“No, I think it means, like, ‘if you honk at me for my bad driving, you're actually admitting you think the moon landing is fake’ or something like that,” You explained, remembering when Lest had explained the same thing to you only a couple of years ago.

“Hm, Interesting.” He nodded.

“What do you think?” You asked, leaning back in your seat.

“About?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“The moon landing,” You said, “Do you think it was fake.”

He side-eyed you, eyebrows furrowed in concern, “Do you think it was fake.”

“Well, not exactly.” You shrugged.

“Not exactly!?” He gaped at you, glancing between you and the road, “Actually, we’re going home.”

“No no, wait listen,” You laughed waving your hands at him in defense, “I don’t think the moon landing was fake! I one hundred percent believe that those guys were up there in ‘69.”

“Sakra, ‘those guys’?” He scoffed, “Really, are you not a scientist.”

“Hey, listen I know their names. But the good one is dead and the other is a psycho republican,” You laughed, “plus I’m not a space gal, you know that. I find the ocean far more fascinating.”

“Okay, okay, anyways,” He steered the conversation back to your original question, “Do you think the moon landing was fake?”

“No, like I said, I’m sure they were on the moon, but,” You held a hand up at Viktor, forcing him to let you finish, “I wouldn’t be that surprised if one day it was admitted that the footage everyone knows is fake.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, fighting back a smile, “I supposed that is an acceptable take, but you’re on thin ice.”

“I can give you some more of my bad takes if you’d like, but you might not want to hang out with me anymore,” You laughed, a growl from your stomach cutting you off.

“It’s past noon,” Viktor pointed out, laughing with you gently, “What was the last thing you ate? Did you have breakfast?”

You thought for a moment about the question. When you realized what had technically been the last thing you put in your stomach, you burst into a fit of laughter, and covered your reddening face.

“What?” He asked, confused as you tried to pull yourself together.

“Nothing, it’s just, uh,” You bit back a smile and glanced down to his lap pointedly, “nothing.”

“Oh, fucking gross,” He scoffed, pushing your shoulder away from him playfully.

“You didn’t think it was gross last night,” You pointed out, teasing him with a poke in the arm.

“Stop,” He pleaded, looking away from you, his face turning red as he resisted laughing.

“Oh come on,” You said, leaning closer to him, chin almost resting on his shoulder as you invaded his space and dropped your voice, “You don’t have to be shy about it, you can admit you loved coming in my mouth.”

He swallowed hard, hands tightening on the steering wheel in your peripheral vision, “You are very hard to deal with sometimes.”

You tapped your fingers against the bottom of his chin quickly before retreating back to your own space, “You wouldn’t like me very much If I made it easy on you,”

He didn’t respond to that, just shook his head as he hit his blinker and pulled into the center lane, “Well I’m making you eat something that has calories.”

“I’m sure cum probably has some calories, right?” You said only to get a rise out of him.

It worked perfectly of course, he whined your name, “stop talking. If you mention that one more time, I’m sending this car into the ocean with us in it, I swear to god.”

You raised your hands in defense, silently vowing to keep quiet as he waited to turn into the parking lot of a worn out roadside diner.

“Thank you,” he sighed, rolling his eyes as he pulled into the lot.

Gravel crunched under the tires as the Beamer slid into a parking spot. The diner was incredibly unassuming. Weathered and faded, but fairly busy with a Saturday crowd. You stretched when you stepped out of the car, shoulders popping as you pushed your hands to the sky. Viktor freed his cane from the back seat, waiting for you by the hood. When you reached him, he was twisting his spine awkwardly, a hand on his hip and a grimace on his lips as he tried to pop his stubborn joints.

“You good?” You asked gently.

“Yeah, I’m used to it,” He groaned, then motioned for you to come closer, “Actually, could you come here.”

You stood in front of him, looking up as you were only a foot away. He took your hand gently, placing it on his hip, “Just, like, resist against me when I turn, yeah?”

You nodded, pressing against his hip. You did as he asked, holding his hip back as he rotated his upper body the other direction. A loud pop came from under your hand, and he hissed sharply before relaxing. He sighed, straightening up and grabbing his cane from where he lent it against the hood of the car.

“Feel better?” You asked him, looping the hand on his hip around his lower back instead of retreating,

“Very,” He nodded, dropping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer, he squeezed the top of your arm, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” You returned the gesture, squeezing his hip where your hand rested as the two of you walked up to the diner door.

Inside it was warm, the smell of coffee permanently staining the air. The space was narrow but long, almost ironically classic in the way it was set up. A long counter was against one side and booths were pressed to the windows. The counter was occupied by blue collar men in their work clothes. This close to the coast you were sure they had all just come in from an early morning catch. They reminded you of your dad.

“Go on ahead and find a seat anywhere, kiddos,” An older woman behind the counter waved at you before pouring another cup of coffee, “Someone will be with you in just a second.”

You nodded and followed Viktor to an open booth, untangling yourself from him to slide into the vinyl seat. He watched you from across the table for a moment before dropping his gaze.

“What did you mean earlier, by the way?” He asked, picking at the edge of a sticky menu.

“What?” You tilted your head, unsure of when exactly earlier was.

“You said that I wouldn’t like you if you made it easy,” He said, mouth quirking to the side as he thought about the moment, “What did you mean by that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” You shrugged, chewing on your lip, “I guess…just most of the time, guys tend to like the chase more than the actual girl. It’s fun.”

“And you think I am like this?” He asked, meeting your eyes almost sadly.

“I don’t know,” You said honestly, “I mean, you don’t have me. Who's to say you’d still like me as much if you did?”

“I would,” He said firmly, “I know I would.”

Before the conversation could continue, a waitress appeared at the end of the table. An overly sweet smile plastered on her face, curly blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail on the crown of her head. She looked between you, eyes hesitating on Viktor just a second longer than you would have preferred.

“Good morning, my name’s Nancy, I’ll be taking care of y’all today, ” She said, her voice was high and smooth, “How are you two doing?”

“Good Morning Nancy, we are well, and you?” Viktor responded, polite as ever.

“I’m doing just fine, thanks for asking,” She smiled wider, glancing at you briefly, “Can I get ya started with some drinks?”

“Just coffee for me,” Viktor told her, looking to you for your response.

“Me as well,” You nodded, attempting your best polite smile. She was just being friendly, you told yourself. It’s her job to be nice.

“Two coffees,” She repeated as she scribbled down the order, “Room for cream?”

“Yes please,” Viktor answered.

“Mine too,” You copied him. Normally you’d just drink diner coffee black, but that nasty little voice in the back of your head was answering for you.

“Easy-peasy,” She said, “I’ll have that right out for y’all.”

You watched Nancy walk away, curls bouncing as she went to get the coffee. Viktor was paying no mind, already skimming through the menu. You picked up your own. Standard diner food, easy enough to choose from.

“What’re you getting?” You asked casually, glancing up at him over the menu.

“Hm, unsure,” He hummed, glancing up and catching your gaze, “Choose for me?”

“That’s a lot of trust,” You laughed, leaning back in your seat and raising an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged, “I trust you.”

“Okay, then,” You looked over the menu again, “Breakfast or lunch? And what do you hate?”

“Breakfast,” He nodded, “And nothing, I don’t think…eh, actually, no sourdough bread.”

“You don’t like sourdough? That’s crazy, it’s like the best bread,” You scoffed, offended on behalf of the baked good.

“No, actually, I really like sourdough bread,” He said, “but, I’m sorry, it’s not very good in America.”

“That's a very European take,” You rolled your eyes, “You guys always think you’re better.”

“Listen, with this I am right, trust me.” He assured, “America does have some better… things.”

“Hm, like what?” You smirked at his tone.

“Most fruit is better here,” He nodded with an air of nonchalance, “Oranges and pineapple, mango as well.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, pretending to be busy with the menu despite having already made a decision, “Good fruit is a plus, for sure.”

“The women here are different, too.” He nodded, “All smiles and low-cut shirts. Very…eager to please.”

You scoffed, glancing back up at him with a retort on your lips already. It died in your mouth when Nancy, with her low cut shirt and wide smile, returned to the table with a set of mugs and a pot of coffee.

“Sorry about that wait,” She laughed, setting the mugs down and beginning to fill them, “Technical difficulties.”

“No worries at all, Nancy,” Viktor said smoothly, sitting up, “Thank you.”

“Of course, honey,” She drawled, you tensed at the term of endearment, “Are you ready to order or do you want a few more minutes with the menu?”

“We’re ready,” You jumped in, immediately regretting how snappy your voice was.

“Perfect,” She stayed facing Viktor, “When can I get going for ya?”

Viktor turned his face to you, nodding for you to go ahead.

“We’ll have the Florentine benedict,” You told her, placing the menu down in front of you.

“Perfect,” She said, turning halfway to you as she wrote it down, “Fries okay with that?”

“Yep.” You nodded and before she could ask, “and he’ll have the same thing.”

She turned to him anyway with a questioning look that he either didn’t see or chose not to acknowledge, “Okay, well, I’ll have that out for you here soon. Holler if you need anything.”

“Thank you, honey,” You gave a tight smile as she walked away.

“Ah, I see it now,” He nodded, narrowing his eyes at you slightly as he pulled his coffee towards himself.

“See what?” You leaned your chin on your hand, circling the rim of your coffee cup with the other.

“That jealousy you were speaking of earlier,” He smirked, “I hadn’t noticed it before. Maybe you hid it better, maybe there was too much going on.”

You hummed, nodding slowly as a blush creeped up your cheeks, “Maybe you just didn’t notice me.”

“That is funny. If there is anything I notice in a room, it is you,” He told you, then casually as if he hadn’t just said what he said, pushed the bowl of cream and sugar packets towards you, “Sugar?”

You swallowed hard, then pushed your mug towards him, “Make it for me?”

“Are you sure? I make mine sweet,” He warned.

“I trust you,” You pushed the mug farther until it was next to him, “I’m not jealous, by the way.”

“Oh really?” He raised an eyebrow at you in disbelief, “So you were just glaring daggers at the waitress for fun?”

“I…I wasn’t,” You huffed, poorly defending yourself.

“You know,” He began, tearing open a few packets of sugar and pouring it into your coffee, “I don’t find jealousy attractive, but on you…it’s endearing.”

“Well, that’s sweet, but I’m not jealous.” You said sternly.

“Ah, okay,” He poured the same amount of sugar into his own drink, followed by a couple creamers, “So, you wouldn’t mind if I asked Nancy for her number.”

“Viktor, don’t fuck with me,” You deadpanned, frowning at him.

He laughed, sliding your made up coffee to you. Before his hand retreated, he grabbed you gently by the wrist. He held your hand in his, lifting it off the table and examining your palm, “Jealousy does look good on you, but you should know by now,” He flipped your hand over and leaned closer, “It is wholly unnecessary, milá.”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, lingering for a moment as he watched you through his lashes.

You swallowed hard, cheeks burning as he pulled back from your hand. He held your hand for a moment longer before letting you retreat. You picked up the coffee he made up for you, taking a sip. It was sweet, sweeter than you’d normally make it. You liked it. You fought off the idea of tasting the same coffee on his lips.

“You like?” He asked, siping his own drink.

“Yeah, it’s good,” You nodded, taking another sip before setting it down, “Thank you.”

“Hey, tell me more about these theories of yours,” He said, setting down his mug.

“Theories?” You tilted your head.

“The moon landing happened, but the footage is fake,” He laughed, “You said this earlier, I’m interested in what other baseless theories you have?”

You barked a laugh, “Okay, sure. My other space theory is that I do believe aliens exist. Like, the universe is theoretically infinite, right? It’s crazy to think that we are the only planet with living things on them, advanced or not. That being said! I do not believe aliens have ever been anywhere close to Earth.”

“Oh, really?” He mused, thinking about it, “Why?”

“Because, what the fuck do aliens want with us?” You shrugged, “Plus, if they’re gonna go through all that trouble to make ships or do whatever it would take to get from there to here for whatever reason, you really think they’d let themselves get caught by the American government? No way.”

“You’ve really thought about this, haven't you? ” Viktor laughed.

“Yeah, well my mom was obsessed with that ‘Ancient Aliens’ show when I was a kid and even at, like, nine years old I knew it was bullshit. Okay, Pretty Boy, your turn. What are your conspiracy theories?”

Viktor hummed, thinking to himself for a moment before speaking, “You know those people who say the Earth is flat?”

“Viktor, no,” You gaped, “There is no way you believe that.”

“No, hush, let me explain,” He laughed, waving you off, “I think people who say they think the Earth is flat are completely lying.”

“What?”

“I mean, I think they know that it is completely untrue,” He explained, hands gesturing in front of him, “but they like the attention they get from saying they believe the Earth is flat.”

You laughed, “Oh my god, like toddlers. Negative attention is better than no attention.”

“Exactly!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at you, “That’s exactly it.”

You covered your mouth, lowering your head and laughing into your palm to stifle the sound. Well aware of the looks thrown your way by the regular inhabitants of the diner. As your giggles died out, Nancy returned with your plates.

“Here we are, two Florentine benedicts,” She set the food down on the table, “Plates are a lil’ warm, be careful.”

“Thank you,” You said, settling down, Viktor repeating the words as he slid a roll of utensils towards you.

“Of course, is there anything else I can get for you?” She asked, hands on her hips as she oversaw the table.

“I think we are okay,” Viktor told her, looking over to you for confirmation.

“Yeah, we’re all good,” You agreed, “Thank you.”

“Perfect, if you need anything, just let me know,” She told you before heading away from the table.

Viktor held his fork out to you, “Cheers, darling, to baseless theories.”

You laughed, and clinked the tines of your fork against his, “To baseless theories.”

-----

When Nancy brought the check, she brought two. Setting the little slips of paper down in front of each of you before picking up your empty plates.

“I assumed separate checks were fine,” She said, glancing down at you briefly before sliding her gaze to Viktor, “And, I’m sorry, I just have to ask! Where is your accent from?”

“New Mexico,” Viktor said flatly, a tight smile on his lips, “And the checks will be together, actually.”

He reached over and grabbed yours from in front of you, folding them together and handing them back to her.

“Oh, uh okay,” She nodded, taking the checks back from him, trying and failing to hide her look of disappointment. You rolled your eyes as she walked away.

“I will admit,” Viktor said, “Normally I believe people read too much into others intentions.”

“Of course you do,” You scoffed at him.

“But, I do believe that that girl was being quite forward, no?” Viktor glanced over to where the waitress was making up a new receipt behind the counter.

“Oh, you think?” You laughed sarcastically at him, “Viktor, that girl wanted you so bad, she would have let you fuck her on this table if you wanted to.”

“Always so graphic,” He grimaced, “Does it bother you?”

“No, I wouldn’t say it if it did,” You snorted a laugh.

“No, not that,” He waved you off, “That she wants me. Does somebody else being interested in me bother you?”

You thought for a moment, about whether this was something you could convincingly about. Decided it wasn’t, you told him, “Yes, I hate it.”

“Why?” He tilted his head, waiting for another honest answer.

“Because, I… you’re very want-able,” You stumbled over your words, letting an awkward laugh slip out, “You could be with whoever you want in a second. The fact that you have so many options just kinda…makes me nervous.”

Before he could respond Nancy swooped by the table, dropping off the combined check and muttering a quick, “Sorry about the confusion.”

You reached for the check and Viktor scoffed, snatching it up before you could.

“Absolutely not,” He said, keeping the check away from you as he pulled out his wallet.

“Vik, you drove, let me get it,” You told him, trying to pull out your own card.

“No way,” He shook his head, pulling cash out, “I just insisted that we were together, I’m not letting you pay.”

“That’s misogyny,” You pouted.

“Brand me a misogynist then. You aren’t paying.” He laughed, leaving the cash on the table as he slid out of the booth, steadying himself on his cane with one hand and extending the other out to you, “Maybe I’ll let you get it next time…maybe.”

You rolled your eyes, but took his hand as you slid out of the booth anyways. You let him lead you through the diner. You let him hold the door open for you. You even let him open the car door and shut it behind you when you got in. Not because you needed or really wanted him to do these things, but because you could tell he enjoyed it. It was sweet.

“You’re wrong, you know?” He told you as the car hummed to life.

“No, I’m never wrong,” You shook your head, “What am I wrong about?”

“You say I can have whoever I want,” He repeated your statement from earlier, turning in his seat to look at you, “But that’s clearly not true.”

“Hmph, and why do you say that?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Because, the only person that I want is you. And clearly I can’t seem to get you, so…” He shrugged, the slightest pout on his lips.

Like usual, he managed to floor you with his words. Stopping all coherent thoughts in your head as he looked at you with those perfect amber eyes. You let out a shaky breath, reaching up to touch his face. He leaned into your hand, rubbing his cheek against your palm and letting his eyes fall shut for a moment.

“Viktor…” You breathed, thumb brushing across the pout on his lips.

He said your name softly, opening his eyes and holding your gaze, “Please let me have you. You're always just out of reach. Please, I just want you.”

“Vik...,” You muttered, running your hand over the side of his head, fingers combing through his soft hair, “Listen, I just… I can’t yet.”

You could have cried at the look he gave you. A harsh line formed between his eyebrows as they pulled together. His eyes were soft, half closed with blown pupils as he leaned into your touch.

“Today’s the 11th?” You asked, hand on the back of his neck, tugging gently at the short strands there, “and our last class is on December 15th, yeah?”

He nodded as you thought about the numbers.

“That’s 65 days.” You told him, squeezing the back of his neck, “In 65 days, if you still want me, I’m yours.”

“65 days…” He repeated, closing his eyes and dropping his forehead against yours, “65 days and you're mine.”

-----

It wasn’t terribly late when you made it back to town, but the winter sun had long set. Viktor insisted on holding your hand for as long as he could, only giving up the contact when switching gears became more frequent. The animal part of your brain found the way he drove incredibly attractive. He was relaxed and confident, never panicked as he checked his mirrors and smoothly switched lanes. You resisted the urge to reach out to him at stoplights. The red glow sinking into the lines and curves of his face, lighting the front of his hair. You stared shamelessly, memorizing the way he looked, and he pretended not to notice.

“You can totally tell me to fuck off if you don’t want to answer this,” You said as he slowed to a stop at one of these lights, “But why do you drive a manual? Isn’t it difficult with your leg?”

“It’s not easy, but it’s how I learned to drive,” He glanced over at you, and shrugged, “I either had to learn to drive a manual or not at all.”

“Hm, that’s fair,” You nodded, it made sense to have to learn to drive in what was available, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think it’s incredibly hot that you drive a manual, but did you not consider getting an automatic when you moved here?”

He rolled his eyes at the compliment, a tilted smile on his lips, “No. It’s probably childish, but I drive this way out of spite. I’m used to the way it feels, and I just have to be okay with the fact that on bad days I’m not able to drive.”

“You’ve never struck me as someone resistant to accommodations,” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m not,” He shook his head, “Only for this, I guess. I understand that I have limitations, but I…I don’t know. I want to drive this way, so I do. It’s as simple as that.”

You hummed and nodded, pulling your knee up to your chest and resting your cheek on it, “I get that, like not personally, but I understand your stubbornness.” You laughed softly.

“I’m glad you do, because most people don’t,” He scoffed, “Jayce practically begged me to get a different car. I had to explain to him that not only am I very capable of driving this way,” He gave you a sideways glance, “But women tend to find it sexy.”

“Ah, so you do know you’re hot,” You teased back, grinning against your knee.

“I think you give me more credit than is due in that department,” He scoffed, “But when you’re staring at me all the time, it tends to go to a man's head.”

“It’s not all the time,” You defended weakly, chewing on your lip.

“Uh-huh,” He hummed, smirking over at you as the light turned green, “Sure.”

You swatted at his leg gently. He caught your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and holding the back of your hand to his chest. You could feel his pulse on either side of your hand, steady and just a little fast.

“Do you want to take your truck home tonight?” He asked, squeezing your hand before releasing you, “Or I can bring you back to campus and I can pick you up tomorrow to get it?”

You thought for a moment. If you went to his house to get your truck right now, he’d ask if you’d like to come in and say hello to Rio. You’d say yes. You’d sit in his bed. You’d let him put his head in your lap. You’d talk to him for hours. You’d have to force yourself to leave at some early hour of the morning. You’d drive home with an ache in your chest.

“I can get my truck tomorrow,” You offered, thinking quickly of a way to see him soon without destroying yourself, “If you wanna drive it over we can finish up the lab notes for Monday? If you feel like it.”

“That works,” He nodded, beginning to take turns towards campus, “Should we tell Ekko and Jinx?”

“I think they have plans tomorrow,” You told him a half-lie, they had plans tomorrow night, but you’d really rather work on the notes with just Viktor, “But we can handle it, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” He agreed, then laughed, “We’ll make them do it next weekend.”

“I like the way you think,” You snorted, sitting up in your seat as he pulled into the parking lot of the dorm, “Come over at eleven?”

“Sure,” He nodded, putting the car into park at the curb, “If you end up wanting to get your truck tonight, just let me know, it’s not that late.”

“Thanks.” You opened the door, hesitating and turning towards him, “I’m glad we went out today, it was…nice.”

“Me too,” He gave a soft smile.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned into him and pressed a quick kiss against his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You hopped out of his car, leaving behind his coat and darting away before you could register his reaction. He didn’t pull away from the curb until you were fully inside the building and waving a goodbye through the glass wall.

You let the warmth of the gesture fill you as you climbed the stairs to your dorm. The promise of 65 days you had given him resonated in your ears. Maybe it was too lofty of a promise. Maybe it was one that would never come to fruition. Maybe whatever you felt for each other would fizzle out and die before that last day of class. You weren't sure what would be a harder end to this.

You were wrapped up in idle thoughts of him, you didn’t take notice of the soft giggles coming from inside the room, or the fact that the little sign on your door had been flipped to ‘do not disturb’. It wasn’t until you pushed the door open that you did finally notice what was happening. A few facts hit you at once. Lest was back. Lest was topless. Lest was straddling someone. Lest was straddling a girl. The girl Lest was straddling was Sky Young.

“Oh fuck,” You yelped, stumbling backwards out of the room and slamming the door closed, “I’m sorry!”

You could hear Lest curse on the other side of the door and the sound of them shuffling around as they pulled clothes back on. Lest is straight. Lest was straight. Sky you had never been sure of, but yesterday she had very much been into Viktor. As you stared in shock at your overly decorated door, puzzle pieces began to fall into place.

They had been spending a lot of time together, you had figured it was because of their shared class. Apparently that wasn’t the only reason. Lest’s anger at you over hurting Sky’s feelings made more sense now. So did Sky’s easily offered forgiveness this morning…after Lest had spent the night with her.

You began to realize how little attention you had paid to any of your friends this semester. You were paying so much attention to a man that you didn’t even notice your best friend was switching sexualities. You wondered what else you had been missing. Were Mel and Jayce married? Did Jinx finally adopt Isha? Did Vi kill Maddie? As your thoughts began to spiral, the door in front of you was yanked open. Lest, now fully clothed, grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you into the room.

“Sit.” She told you, nudging you towards your desk chair.

You did as she asked, the fact that the only light in the room was a single desk lamp made you feel like you were being interrogated. Sky, also dressed, was sitting on the edge of Lest’s bed, arms crossed tightly over her chest and cheeks redder than you had ever seen.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see anything, really,” You said to Sky, hoping to ease whatever embarrassment she was holding

“What happened to knocking?” Lest asked, pulling your attention to her, hands on her hips. You tried not to stare at the mouth shaped bruises on her neck.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention,” You stumbled over your words, “I didn’t think- I’m sorry.”

Lest sighed, rubbing out a line between her eyebrows, “It’s fine. Just… don’t tell anyone.”

You scoffed a laugh, “Who am I gonna tell? You two?”

“And Mel.” She pointed out, “Who would tell Jayce, who would tell Cait, who would tell Vi, who would-”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” You held your hands up in defense, “I’m not gonna tell anyone, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Well, you’ve been a dick lately, so…” Lest shrugged, and then relaxed when you flinched, “I’m sorry. I just.. We’re not ready to share this yet.”

“Yeah, no, I get it,” You assured her, “Not gonna say anything, I promise.”

“I’m gonna head out,” Sky said, standing up awkwardly and pulling her bag onto her shoulder, she hesitated between the door and Lest.

“I’ll walk you back,” Lest offered, reaching for her own coat.

“No, it’s fine,” Sky insisted, “I’m supposed to meet Stebb at the library in a bit anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Okay,” Lest nodded, squeezing Sky’s hand before she left. When the door shut behind her, Lest collapsed onto her bed with a groan.

“Is this why you were so angry at me last night?” You asked, not moving from your chair.

“No…kinda?” Lest tugged at the ends of her hair, “I don’t know, man, this is new… like new new.”

“Like, last night new?” You wanted to know everything, but you weren't sure how much she was willing to give you right now.

“More like an hour ago,” Lest scoffed, shaking her head as she stared up at the ceiling, “Honestly, I think I’ve liked her for a while now, I just didn’t fully get it. Then last night, I…you made her cry, dude. I love you so much, but I could have killed you last night.”

“I know, I’m sorry…I agree, I’ve been a dick,” You chewed on your cheek, then laughed awkwardly, “I talked to her this morning, it makes sense why she was so forgiving.”

“You’re lucky she is,” Lest told you, finally looking over, “I stayed with her last night, that’s when it clicked. I wanted to kiss her so bad, but she was drunk and sad. I left before she woke up. Part of me hoped she wouldn’t remember it.”

“But she did?” You concluded.

“Yep, every sappy fucking word.” She rolled over, groaning into her bed, “It was so embarrassing.”

“Why?” You laughed softly, nervously testing the waters, “I mean, clearly she likes you, too.”

“Yeah, but when I told her she had just been crying over a guy,” Lest said, voice half muffled, “I should have waited until she wasn’t so upset, that would have been the polite thing to do.”

“Things happen,” You offered, “Trust me, I know.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” Lest said, on the verge of being choked up, “All I wanted to do was talk to you, but I was supposed to be mad at you…”

“Are you still mad at me?” You asked, eyeing her carefully.

“No, I’m never mad at you, not really,” She sighed, rolling back over and pouting at you, “Even when I should be.”

“Good, I’m glad,” You nodded, standing up and edging towards her bed, “I’m sorry I made you want to be mad at me.”

She held her hand out in the offer you had been waiting for. You crossed the last of the space between you and crawled into her bed. She wiggled into your arms, resting her head on your shoulder and holding onto you. She smelled like Sky’s perfume.

She said your name softly, “I’m scared.”

“Why?” You smoothed a hand over her hair.

“Because I don’t know how to do this,” She told you, toying with the hem of your sleeve, “I’ve always been the girlfriend, I don’t know how to be in a relationship with another girl.”

“My love, you’d still be a girlfriend,” You laughed softly, “You don’t need to act any different because you’re with a girl instead.”

“I guess…I just don’t know how to do this.” She pressed her face into your shirt, “My parents are going to have something to say. Everyone is going to have something to say.”

“I’m saying this out of love, but your parents were like 75% fine with you transitioning,” You teased gently, tugging at a strand of her hair, “Shouldn’t you liking girls be alot easier for them to grasp?”

She scoffed, “You’d think.”

“Well, luckily, your parents are incredibly far away,” You assured her, “You don’t need to call them up right this minute and come out to them. You have all the time in the world, Lest. You don’t have to tell anybody until you’re ready. Other than me, obviously, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, I wanted to tell you anyway,” Lest craned her neck to look up at you, “The only other gay girls I’m close with are Cait and Vi and they’re obnoxious.”

You laughed, swatting on on the shoulder, “Don’t be mean.”

“I love them, but it’s true,” She insisted with wide eyes.

“I know, I know,” You sighed thinking about Dysfunctional Lesbian 1 and 2.

Lest gasped, stilling in your arms, “You know what this means, right?”

“What?” You raised an eyebrow at her, tilting your chin to look at her face.

“Our friend group is very close to being made up entirely of couples,” She gaped at you, mock horror in her eyes.

“Oh god, you’re right.” You cringed, “We’re really the worst, aren’t we.”

“Entirely insufferable,” She agreed seriously before the both of you dissolved into giggles, closer to each other than you had been in months.

74 notes · View notes

quartz-kilsviken · 5 months ago

Text

Written in the Runes

Chapter 6

➸ Synopsis: Ekko, your mischievous yet endearing local troublemaker, trails a wealthy academy student from the topside. When you end up with the student's satchel, you find a notebook filled with intriguing magical research. Unable to resist, you embark on a quest to uncover the secrets of this mysterious scholar.

➸Pairing: JayVik x reader

➸Chapter Word Count: 2,917

➸Tags: Slow Burn, yearning, eventual smut, not

canon compliant

➸Notes: Your Honor, Viktor is a brat. The first few weeks at the Academy, I loved writing this chapter. I just wanna give Jayce a smooch on the cheek, he’s so sweet. ♡ॢ₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎"

➸ Previous Chapter: Pt. 5

“It’s a complete waste of the technology,” Viktor grumbles, tapping his fingers on the desk. “The only ones who’ll benefit are the Councilors padding their pockets with trade deals.”

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind—setting up the lab, scrambling to get everything organized, and, naturally, arguing. This same debate keeps coming up. While the three of you are developing Hextech, the Council’s already decided what it’s going to be used for. Viktor’s furious. They want to build a massive teleportation system, similar to the energy from the night in Heimerdinger’s lab, but on a much larger scale. They say they want it to transport people and cargo across Runeterra. Your problem isn’t with the idea, it’s the scale—hundreds of crystals, each needing its own rune combination. Just thinking about it makes your head throb.

“They’re not exactly giving us a choice,” Jayce says, his voice calm but his posture a dead giveaway that he’s frustrated. His feet are propped up on the desk, balancing on the back two legs of his chair. He’s trying to stay composed, but you can tell it’s wearing on him. Viktor, on the other hand, looks like he’s a hair’s breadth away from snapping.

Viktor’s bent over his desk, flipping through Jayce’s notes with a frown that could melt metal. You’d rather not dive into this right now, but seeing both of them so stressed gets to you. “You’re both right,” you say, pushing your chair back and crossing your arms. “We don’t have much of a choice, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make sure it’s used for something good. I mean, right now, the only way to get to Piltover is by ship, and it’s miserable.” You shudder at the memory—seasick, your mom holding you over the railing to throw up because you couldn’t even reach it. You didn’t have time to warn her the first time and Khal had to clean up after you. He still brings it up. “At least this way, travel won’t suck as much.”

Viktor looks like he’s chewing that over, his face softening a little. Jayce, however, seems to latch onto something else. “You’ve traveled?”

Damn. Not the direction you want this conversation to go. But it’s hard to lie to Jayce when he looks at you like that. “Uh, yeah. My family moved here when I was younger, but I don’t remember much of it,” you say quickly, glancing back at your sketches in an attempt to shift focus.

Jayce doesn’t push, but Viktor raises an eyebrow. “Where did you live before?”

Viktor, as you’ve learned, is relentless when something catches his interest. The more you try to avoid it, the harder he’s going to dig. So, you switch gears before this goes any further.

You pick up one of your rough HexGate designs and hold it out to them with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “What do you think of this? I think it’s the best one I’ve come up with so far.”

Viktor’s face immediately turns from curious to horrified, and you can’t help but stifle a laugh. Jayce steps closer, squinting at the design. “It’s... impressive? But I’m not sure the Council would approve. It’s, uh, a little... much?”

Viktor looks at him, then back at the sketch, deadpan. “It’s... terrifying.” Jayce looks at Viktor, clearly trying to silently say, ‘don’t be mean’. You’re practically bubbling with amusement, and Viktor’s giving you exactly the reaction you wanted.

“No, no, you just don’t get the vision.” You gesture dramatically to the design as if it’s the most brilliant idea ever.

Viktor stares at it, his eyebrows knit together in distaste. The sketch is a monstrosity, but you’re selling it hard. It’s a massive statue-like structure of both his and Jayce’s faces, towering over the city. The jaws of the faces are designed to unhinge, releasing a beam of energy that powers the teleportation. It’s completely absurd. “Oh, we see the vision. It’s just... I’m not sure I’m prepared for our faces to loom over Piltover. It’s a bit... ominous, don’t you think?”

Jayce looks between you and Viktor, his expression full of confusion and concern. “But why are we the ones on it? Shouldn’t you be, too?”

You grin, shrugging casually. “Nah. You two are way more photogenic than I am.” You glance at Viktor, who’s trying not to smile. “Besides, I don’t need a giant statue of me towering over the city. That sounds a little... egotistical.”

Viktor snickers. “I’ll approve the design... but only on one condition.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that?”

“We simplify it,” Viktor says, looking at you with a smirk. “Only Jayce on the statue.”

Jayce’s face falls in mock betrayal, and you immediately spring up from your chair, shaking Viktor’s hand with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Deal. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Wait, what?” Jayce protests, his eyes wide.

You cross your arms, a triumphant grin spreading across your face.“Two against one, Jayce. Looks like you’re the face of Hextech now.”

Seeing them less upset—even if just for a moment—makes your heart lighter. You’d draw a million silly diagrams just to keep seeing them smile. But the moment fades as soon as you remember your studies start today. It’s been easier to get lost in Hextech, especially with Jayce and Viktor around. But now… you won’t be able to hide away in the lab much longer.

You start packing up your things reluctantly, and the two of them catch on. Jayce looks up and offers, “Want us to walk you? It’s not far.”

You’d appreciate it, but you know they have more important things to do. You can’t ask them to waste their time.

“Nah, I’m used to navigating this maze by now. I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.”

Viktor gives you a knowing look, his gaze sharp as ever. He catches the tension in your voice without missing a beat. Before he can protest, you can make your way out of the lab.

You had a million different ideas of how your first lecture would go, but somehow it ended up worse than you imagined. First, you got completely lost. Jayce said it wasn’t far, but somehow it took you thirty minutes to find the place. Then, when you finally made it in, the only seat left was right in the middle. You spent the whole time feeling like you were on display, barely able to focus. You didn’t catch a word the professor said.

The rest of the day was a blur—moving from class to class, barely keeping track of the time, let alone the content. By the time your last lecture ended, you were drained, desperate to escape, but the crowd at the door made that impossible. You almost considered climbing out of a window just to get away from it all.

Then you see him. His eyes scan the room until they land on you, and his face lights up with that wide, gap-toothed grin. For a moment, everything else fades.

You make your way toward him, and when his hand rests on your back, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. It’s just a casual touch, but somehow it makes everything feel a little easier.

“Let me guess. Viktor sent you to make sure I actually made it here?” you say, raising an eyebrow with a teasing grin.

Jayce laughs, guiding you through the crowd with a casual ease.

Once you’re in a quieter hall, he looks over at you, still smiling.

“So, how was it?”

His optimism is blinding, and you can’t bring yourself to admit how overwhelmed you are. Instead, you just shrug and smile back. “It was fine.”

You realize, even though you’re away from the crowd, his hand is still resting on your back. You hope he sees your nervousness as a result of the overwhelming day, not because of him. Jayce has this effortless warmth, the kind that draws people in without even trying. He’s like that with Viktor, too—his gaze lingers on him sometimes, full of quiet affection. It’s just how he is, you think. The three of you might share a connection, but in truth, you don’t know much about each other. Maybe that’s for the best. Instead of getting in your head about it, you focus on the comfort of the palm on your back, guiding you home.

As you open your door and turn to say goodnight, you catch him hesitating, like he wants to say something. His eyes flick past you, scanning your room.

“What, does my interior decorating offend you?”

“No—” he chews over his words. “There’s no interior decorating to be offended by.”

Right. The space is big—bigger than anything you’ve had—and honestly, kind of unsettling. The academy provided a bed and a desk, but the rest is empty. “I guess I just haven’t had time,” you lie, forcing an easy shrug.

Oh, he needs to stop looking at you like that—like he sees right through you. His voice is gentler when he says, “I don’t know if Heimerdinger told you, but this isn’t regular student housing. It’s permanent.”

Permanent. He definitely failed to mention that.

“This place is yours,” Jayce continues. “It might help you feel more comfortable if you got a few things. Viktor and I can help, you know.”

You know. And that’s exactly why you hesitate.

“If I present my HexGate design to the council, they might just kick me out, you know.” You flash a grin, but the joke is thinly veiled. The ridiculous, fake design you’d sketched earlier had been for fun—but what if your real ideas get the same reaction? What if you pour everything into this, only to watch it fall apart?

Jayce doesn’t call you on it, just watches you for a moment before saying simply, “Think about it.”

“Good night, Jayce.”

The rest of your week went smoothly, the routine settling your nerves. Even the HexGate project had taken a turn for the better—frustration giving way to excitement as plans started coming together. You’d gotten so caught up in your work that you even started pulling out your designs during lectures, ignoring the side glances from other students. Things had been going so well, in fact, that you’d completely forgotten about your conversation with Jayce.

Jayce, however, had not.

You had been looking forward to a full day of working on Hextech—only to walk into the lab and realize Jayce had other plans. He insisted you all go out to get things for your room, and to your dismay, Viktor had immediately agreed.

Now, you curse Jayce’s insistent kindness as your arms strain under the weight of a couch.

"Left, Jayce—my left, not yours. You’re a very intelligent man, but apparently, using your muscles and your brain at the same time is a challenge." Viktor watches from a safe distance, fingers tapping absently on his cane, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

“I’d like to see you try it,” Jayce grunts back, his voice strained.

From over the couch, you catch Viktor’s amused look as his eyes glint with mock disapproval. “Oh, you would, would you? That is cruel—wishing to see a man with a hurt leg carry a couch.”

“You’re mean,” you huff, adjusting your grip. “Mean and distracting, and I need him focused so I don’t get crushed under this thing.”

As you reach your door, Viktor steps in to help, and you decide it’s time to wipe that smug expression off his face. You smile, letting the teasing tone slip in.

“Here, grab my keys so I don’t have to set this down.”

Viktor’s eyes flick over you, and for just a moment, his expression tightens when his gaze lands on your back pocket. You see the brief hesitation, that almost imperceptible pause before he catches himself and steps forward.

“What, Viktor? Scared to touch my ass?”

He furrows his brows at you, but there’s a spark of something in his eyes—playful, but just a little caught off guard. He reaches into your pocket, fingers slow, deliberate, not quite brushing against you, but you feel it anyway. The space between you both seems to close just a little too easily.

When he pulls the keys out, you glance at Jayce, your grin widening.

“See how easy that was? You could tell Viktor he can’t fly, and he’d probably jump off a building just to prove you wrong.”

You barely hear Viktor muttering under his breath, his voice quieter than usual. “Don’t do what I’m asked, and I’m insulted. Do what I’m asked, and—still—I am insulted.”

He holds open the door, his usual confidence returning. “Left—no—my left.” He huffs a laugh as the couch bangs into the door frame.

“Don’t listen to him, Jayce. You’re doing really well.” You grunt, adjusting your grip.

You don’t notice how Jayce seems to soften at the praise, a slight glow warming his face, but Viktor does. The teasing edges of his smile fade as he watches, and instead of continuing his playful jab, he tucks the observation away in his mind.

As soon as the couch is set down, Jayce flops across it with a deep, exasperated grunt. He’s tall, sprawling across the entire length of it. You smack his shoe, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Budge.”

He doesn’t lift his head, but you can hear the exhaustion in his voice as he sighs. “I don’t think I can move.”

You’re tired too, and without thinking, you shift his legs off just enough to make room for yourself. As you settle back into the couch, his legs fall naturally across your lap. The weight of them is surprisingly comforting. You let your head fall back against the cushions, savoring the softness.

You feel his muscles tense beneath you, a subtle shift in the air. When you open your eyes just a bit, you catch him staring. The intensity in his gaze catches you off guard, and your stomach flutters before you can look away. He clears his throat, quickly turning his attention to Viktor, who’s unpacking the rest of the items.

“We should get one of these for the lab.”

You laugh, trying to shake off the unexpected warmth spreading through you. “Oh yeah? Well, you can carry it yourself. I’m never lifting another couch.”

Viktor pulls his gaze from the two of you, placing a new lamp on your desk, but his attention shifts, lingering over the paintings scattered across the space. Some old, some new, but one in particular catches his attention. The blue glow from the scene reflects over both his and Jayce’s faces as they float in Heimerdinger’s lab. He stops, staring at it, the soft light catching his features.

‘Is this really how she see’s us?’ he thinks, something shifting in his chest. ‘It’s beautiful.’

The only thing missing from the piece, he realizes, is you. But before his thoughts can wander further, he shifts his focus back to the lamp. As he reaches down to plug it in, another painting catches his eye. He pulls a canvas from the bag in the corner, completely captivated.

It’s a scene of a mother and daughter, gathered by a fire. Their closeness is palpable, the warmth of the moment so real you almost feel you’re there. The mother is showing the daughter some kind of magic. Viktor’s eyes drift to the bottom corner, and before he can stop himself, he asks softly,

“Did you paint this?”

You don’t respond right away. Instead, moving out from under Jayce and striding across the room, your expression suddenly distant. Viktor’s heart gives a small, unexpected lurch as he watches you, realizing too late that his question has caught you off guard.

“No.”

You move swiftly to take the painting back, but before you can grab it, Viktor holds it just out of your reach, his hand lingering there a little longer than necessary. He can’t help himself, his voice softer this time.

“That’s your name in the corner, is it not?”

You freeze, your hand still outstretched. When you meet his gaze, your eyes lock for a moment that feels too long. There’s an unexpected shift, a warmth that pulls you both closer, though neither of you dares to acknowledge it. You shift just a little, your body instinctively drawing nearer. Viktor’s gaze flickers, and for a brief second, he looks almost... uncertain.

Before the moment can stretch any longer, you use his distraction to quickly snatch the canvas from his hand.“It’s my grandmother’s name. I don’t sign my art.”

You shove the painting back into the bag, zipping it shut a little too quickly.

Jayce’s soft voice draws your attention, “Art like that is meant to be shared, not locked away. We’re already here, we can help you hang them.”

You realize they’re both well-meaning, but you still feel a soft pang in your chest, something you can’t quite place.

Hesitant, you open the bag again, pulling out two paintings—both by your mother, one of a flower, the other of the sea. You hand them to Viktor, the gesture light, almost fleeting, but something lingers in the air.

Without a word, you turn toward the kitchen, the quiet task of making dinner a welcome distraction. It’s easier to focus on that than whatever their kindness is stirring in you. After everything they’ve done for you today, helping you settle in and furnish the place, it’s the least you can do.

#arcane jayce #viktor arcane #jayce x reader #jayvik x reader #viktor x reader #viktor/reader #viktor/jayce #viktor x you #jayce x viktor #jayce/viktor #jayvik/reader #jayce league of legends #jayce talis #jayvik

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adawndraws · 27 days ago

Text

Some more sketches I've had drafts of. I waited to actually complete part two of the story to upload everything. A little bit of clothes study since I wanted to draw gowns and suits (In my manhwa era)

It took me 11k words I do not know why I didn't decide to break it up 🧍‍♀️

Warnings: Platonic yandere behavior, people being creepy in their thoughts. I haven't edited after writing the final sentence so the quality of thus fic will go slightly down XD

Part is -> HERE

## *Part 2: Gilded Abattoir*

There was never a need for Renat to be in a hurry, not when pieces granted him the pleasure of moving on their own, falling into places he wanted them to be in.

Patience is bitter but its fruit is sweet, as the saying goes.

Luckily, Renat wasn't picky with flavors, so the end result was the only thing that mattered.

Now, benevolent as ever, Renat wanted Varys’ king to learn that lesson, instill it into his boar brain. He told the coachman and guards to slow the pace of the carriage once the sun began to set ‘People should understand the futility of haste, especially a king. This will be an opportunity for Veynard to learn that making a fuss isn’t becoming of a ruler.’ Renat leaned back on his seat with an amused chuckle, crossing his leg over the other before averting his attention from the book to the twins seated across him.

Ruby had fallen asleep first, just as dusk gave way to the starry sky of the night. It had been precisely on schedule, Renat had made sure she stuck to her bedtime routine. Her head laid on Rudy's shoulder, a picture of eerie, sculpted perfection. Her expression was peaceful, breathing silent and faint. *Like she was dead*. The jarring thought flickered through Renat's mind, a detached acknowledgment of their shared, doll-like qualities.

Rudy, intentionally or not, had ended up mimicking Renat's pose; arms and legs crossed, but the usual tension in his body had slipped once he fell asleep. Renat began to see it as some valiant rebellion when Rudy tried his best to stay awake, as if to resist the usual routine, but alas, 30 minutes after Ruby fell asleep, the gentle rocking of the carriage and the darkness enveloping all light began taking its effect on the boy. Rudy's eyes closed as he succumbed to Renat's schedule. His head tilted to the side, leaning onto Ruby's and completing the set of deceptively fragile objects.

Renat closed his book, slow and quiet so to not disturb the arrangement ‘They look like two nestlings who don't know how to fly.’ The musing brought Renat a sharp satisfaction, and he allowed himself to drift off to the image.

—

A knock.

Then followed by a muffled voice.

"Your majesty."

Renat's eyes opened, being a light sleeper by necessity, the carriage's subtle halt had already roused him, the guard all but confirmed their arrival. He straightened his posture, pushing the book from his lap to the side before reaching out a hand to the window curtain, raising the velvet to meet the guard’s gaze.

“We've arrived.”

“Excellent.” Renat smiled, expectant and pleased as he opened the carriage door and stepped outside, early dawn signaling the beginning of the day. Renat didn't even take a full breather after leaving that stuffy carriage, still rather repulsed from stepping into this land 1 year after his initial visit. He observed the entrance of the palace they had stopped by, the wood and metal were certainly changed, Veynard must have got bored.

He sighed “Noah.” calling for the guard while brushing any wrinkles from his top “Wake up the twins.” Unlike him, they needed to be woken up “Ensure their coats and hoods are secured, I'll order some servants to lead you to guest rooms. Tell the twins to continue their rest and not leave their rooms until I come to get them.” Renat sighed, if he lets them loose with this visit, his system will be disrupted “Their sleep schedule might suffer if we let them roam around the palace.” With his orders given, Noah nodded and quickly began enacting them as instructed by Renat.

Renat surveyed all he could see of the castle, other than decorative changes, which Renat didn't think were any better than before, he noticed servants standing at attention. He called one over after some evaluation, one he believed to be reliable enough to actually do her job “Are there guest rooms available?”

She nodded “Yes your majesty, our king said he has prepared the most lavish rooms for you and your family to reside in.” Renat’s smile was subtle but disarming as he nodded “Very well. Please lead my people towards those rooms, my siblings still need the rest.”

Luckily Renat had already warned his maids that if anything unsightly was in those rooms, they ripped it off before his siblings saw it.

“Won't the king be displeased, your majesty?” Came a soft voice from besides him, just a step behind. Andrés, his right hand, tactical as ever to speak so quietly around foreign ears “Undoubtedly so,” Renat spoke without looking over, his smile sarcastic more than anything “But how would it be my problem, Andrés? The king pleaded for our attendance so let him choke with his impatience. And as for my siblings…” Renat's eyes narrowed as he glanced back towards the carriage, catching a glimpse of Noah rousing the twins up from their sleep “He is no ringmaster to this circus but a clown just as the rest of the court, so he doesn't deserve an early viewing.”

As Andrés responded with a quiet, humorless chuckle, Renat's eyes swept over the approaching castle guards, noting how their uniforms had become even more ostentatious than from before. After the usual greetings, Renat was ushered inside the castle and to Veynard’s throne room.

Walking through the lavish halls, passing by portraits of the royal family, a chilling air began to surround Renat. His skin prickled with irritation as reality beat down the subconscious denial; He was in Varys, a disgustingly gaudy foreign kingdom, and he had brought his two prized jewels with him.

Of course, the chances of them coming to harm was ridiculous to entertain, not with him as their protector. But here, towers sheathed in stolen gold, streets glittering under wasteful glass lanterns, miniature ivory statues littering the halls. Subjecting his siblings to such an environment for even a week demanded unparalleled payback in entertainment.

He studied the portraits, five members instead of six, and it has just been a year since the princess died *'Decay drowning in cheap perfume.'* Renat thought in distaste once the double doors came in his line of sight. It wasn't the suffering of the masses that revolted him, though that proved Veynard’s stupidity, it was the sheer, *crass inefficiency* of it all. Power used on gaudy displays was power poorly wielded, a weakness Renat found increasingly frustrating.

Once the guards opened the doors for him, Renat, footsteps quiet as always, walked inside the throne room to immediately be met with the booming voice of Varys’ king “Ah Renat, you've finally arrived! How long has it been since I last saw you?” It echoed around the throne room, occupied only by them and a handful of guards.

‘Not long enough.’ Renat placed a hand on his chest, executing a perfectly calculated bow out of usual pleasantries, the only one Renat would perform during his stay “Good morning to you as well Veynard.” He straightened his posture, the politely crafted smile on display as he greeted the king, taking a brief lookover the throne room “I must say…” Renat started, rather amused by the situation of the missing hostess and heir “I'm a little disappointed I didn't get to greet the rest of your family as well, they must be… Quite occupied.” With the queen who pulled the strings and the future ruler nowhere in sight, it was insulting to leave only the court jester as the host who greets Renat on arrival.

If it was intentional, Renat praised their audacity to disrespect him, but if not, then this poor presentation of the ruling family was another flaw to nitpick.

“Yes, yes, they're all quite busy during early mornings.”

‘Ah, so they're still sleeping.’ Renat mused, his smile turning just a bit more prominent, the joke was enough for Renat to ignore Veynard’s eyes, searching behind and around Renat with poorly veiled curiosity like an ant who couldn't comprehend its reflection “And what about your siblings? Where are they?”

“Sleeping.” Renat answered with a tone as if it should have been obvious, why would the two with no claims or authority over the throne need to be here? “During the entire carriage ride they were unable to rest at all from excitement.” Providing additional information with a slight smile, Renat's expression softened, projecting the image of the adoring older brother his empire adored so much “When I told them about your celebrations, they were unable to contain their anticipation so they barely got a wink of sleep, I hope you understand.”

The famous twin doves of the viper were excited about Veynard's parties, naturally just the thought would make the king puff his chest in pride, pleasantries and manners be damned “Well nothing will disappoint your siblings tonight, I made sure everything is extra special because of your arrival.”

‘Of course you did.’ Renat let out a small chuckle, was he trying to one up Renat by showing his wealth? ‘What use is riches which didn't belong to someone to begin with.’ Renat cleared his throat, crossing his arms and deciding enough spectacle was held for the guards, they had good gossip material to spread “Additionally, I appreciate the rooms you arranged before our arrival. They'll feel refreshed by the time the ball is ready to commence. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I should go take a rest as well.” Varys’ balls can be quite taxing if he had to play nice, so Renat wished for the silence of a room rather than an audience for at least a few hours beforehand.

But with loud footsteps nearing closer to him, Renat's hand twitched for a second, grip tight on his arm before releasing as Veynard arrived in front of him, at least descending the stairs from his throne made good exercise for the king “Well you can't leave now. Come, come.” Veynard ushered Renat, as if the emperor would ever walk behind him, while a few butlers materialized, decanters in hand ‘Quite well trained.’ Renat mused in appreciation for the servants.

“I prepared some wine for us both to discuss what has happened with those bandits.” Huh, that must've been a rehearsed line considering it was quite diplomatic. Renat is definitely not going to drink anything then.

“Oh I believe your letter was already quite telling.” Renat reminded him with a smile, seeing the wondering expression on Veynard’s face made for a good laugh, the queen had to understand she shoots herself in the foot when acting through a person who doesn’t know he’s a puppet “You mentioned the bandits simply stole equipment that resembled those of your guards.” Any self-respecting guard would be irritated when implied they have poor management and defense just so royalty could save face “I'm sure we'll find them and put an end to it, I'd hate for your… Respectable military to be doubted by others.”

“Sure sure.”

‘At least pretend…’ Renat chided playfully in his mind once Veynard dismissed his “concerns”. Maybe the king knew Renat was being sarcastic or insulting Veynard.

But the guards didn't.

“So about the wine-”

“As I said, I need to rest.” The words were final, but just to sugar coat it for the audience, Renat shrugged and tilted his head with that smile “Besides, why waste your good wine on such dreary affairs.” Renat sighed, helpless at the mere idea of wasting the only good product Varys was able to produce, would be a shame if those grape vines were tampered with “If you truly wish to discuss it, we can talk during the interlude of the ball. Besides, you'll be doing a favor by granting me an escape from that delightful nobility of yours.” And do something useful for once by providing Renat a graceful exit from those tedious clowns.

The emperor was aware his calmness was a thorn on Veynard's side, like a barb pricking a king's fragile pride. Maybe that's why he'd braced for the hand smacking his arm in faux comradeship, the contact irksome but expectant. Veynard laughed, a booming sound forced against Renat's serene facade “Still allergic to crowds eh? When will you host a celebration of your own for heaven’s sake?”

‘Perhaps for your state funeral.’ But knowing Veynard, Renat wouldn't be granted such delight, not in this visit at least. Despite the disappointing fact, Renat continued to smile in polite interest while enduring Veynard's tiresome chatter for minutes to come, more precisely, 34 minutes as Andrés informed him later on.

Renat had been still the entire time Veynard's rambling attempted to occupy his attention, but once he finally moved, raising a hand to indicate for Veynard to pause, the king followed suit in that silent command. Renat’s facade shifted into an apologetic one, letting out a sigh “As much as I relish in your insightful discourse, I know work is difficult for people like us. Please don't feel pressured to host me with such grace when you have more pressing matters that demand your attention.” Go shuffle your papers and pretend to do your job.

Renat knew it was debatable for Veynard to have any important work piled on him rather than the queen, but unless the king wanted to appear useless to foreign people, especially to Renat who's composure already hinted at judgment, he had to let the emperor go. Renat was finally able to walk out of that throne room with his sanity intact and his gloves still clean. A feat he'd be more accepting towards if the scent of wine hadn't followed him from that, at the end of the day was it really even worth it?

He stopped one of the butlers passing by, his gaze sharp but smile unmoving “Open one of the windows for me, I need some fresh air.” The butler obeyed his command, his movements a little too hasty for Renat's taste but made no comment on it. However with the window opened, the gold-plated towers outside reflected sunlight, creating a blinding glare right towards Renat as if this was some sort of assassination ploy directed against him.

Renat didn't flinch, the squint of his eyes almost invisible while his pleasant smile unwavering, despite the inward recoil at the blatant waste.

“Nevermind. Close it.” The butler let out a sigh of relief, Renat wondered if it was because he despised the sight just as Renat did or was under the pressure of the foreign emperor’s presence. So Renat studied the servant, his smile less tight once the window closed “Good job.” The sudden, unfiltered praise delivered with such calm authority stunned the young man. But Renat didn't feed his curiosity and simply walked past, Andrés falling a step behind him as usual.

Once reaching the guest wing of the palace, Renat spotted his people standing guard in front of two doors, protective and unyielding. Renat stopped by closer to Noah “Who's attending to the twins?” The scarred male was captain of the unit so it was his duty to report.

“Our people, your majesty, five maids attend to each of your siblings.” Noah replied instantly, funnily enough, at ease with the emperor’s presence close by “The local maids have been informed that the young master and mistress aren't feeling well after the journey and must not be disturbed.” Good. The narrative still holds.

Now for the next one…

Renat took a slow breath, a subtle shift that was too noticeable. A faint tightening around his eyes, a hand rising to press his temple.

A carefully calculated display of strain.

It was rare, too unlike his usual impenetrable calmness and control, a difference that immediately stiffened his guards. Their expressions hardened with protective urgency, like dogs growling against potential threats to their master. Even after Renat recovered, it didn't ease their suspicions “I will check on my siblings then go to rest, seems like the trip has tired me out as well.” The emperor smiled at his guards, while he'd love to let his dogs chase, he brought weapons for this hunt.

The reassurance of his voice momentarily comforted the worry his team was experiencing, but the shadow of weariness lingered from Renat. It was a good dog's pride to find a reason in being protective, Renat was more than generous to throw them a bone to gnaw at.

“I suggest you retire right now instead, your majesty.” Andrés suggested quietly, understanding the performance and playing his part "King Veynard won't be interested in the trade agreement either way. Not as long as the nobility won't be the ones receiving all of the benefits.” His distant cousin was always so useful during such moments. The message was clear, Veynard doesn't care for the people whose sweat built this monument to excess.

Renat's brow lightly twitched, signifying his distaste for the fact and strengthening his guards’ growing hatred for the kingdom. Their emperor had been trying to pitch the trade agreement for three years now, so to support the common folk Varys’ nobility stole from yet it was always ignored. No matter what anyone said, Lysaria's people knew their ruler best! At his core he was a soft hearted person who extended a helpful hand to anyone in need, using the excuse that they had potential and ability to become something great when in reality he just wished to help, to ignore that hand was foolishness.

Renat had picked each guard for this trip from bad alleys and impoverished streets, being in the territory of a ruler who would've thought of their worth being less than dirt must instill a primal rage Renat wouldn't personally understand, but he appreciated its existence. However, Renat could dissect that being reminded of Veynard's callous disregard for his own populace, the sheer *waste* that funded this obscenity, solidified the guards' simmering disdain because of their morality.

“Now Andrés, there's never harm in trying.” Renat tried to sound composed but the helpless sigh was a clear indication that even their emperor was beginning to lose hope ��... I believe it's best if you go rest your majesty, the young master and mistress are most likely sleeping.” Andrés suggestion made the emperor pause.

That was bold.

Renat just wanted to look at them…

“... I agree, your majesty.” Noah quickly spoke up, an unusual haste to his tone as his comrades sided with Andrés suggestion “We’ll make sure to stand guard until you feel refreshed, and the maids always alert at the slightest discomfort his highness and her highness experience.”

‘Ah, I see.’ Renat appeared to be pondering for a moment before ultimately agreeing “Alright, I shall leave my siblings in your capable hands, but remember to inform me immediately if anything happens.” It was a sign of trust. And for the guards to be trusted with their emperor's precious siblings was better than any riches they could receive.

Renat was conflicted, he didn't trust them, he trusted no one other than himself to actually care for his siblings, but as Andrés gave him the opportunity, he wasn't a fool to let it pass by. Besides, seeing new determination arise in his guards from this sign of trust was refreshing, they don't seek to covet his siblings but act as temporary guards to his paradise. Protecting his stars from the unworthy.

‘Something the leads of this circus should learn to live by as soon as tonight.’ Renat thought to himself as he bid goodbye to the guards while walking to his assigned guest room.

Maybe the queen has specifically ordered for it to be less lavishly decorated to insult, but Renat was relieved he didn't need to order a reconstruction of his temporary chambers. As he undid his coat, he noticed Andrés unease from his peripheral vision.

Renat’s eyes narrowed “What is it?” Displaying any sort of hesitancy was a weakness.

“... Will it be alright to mention the trade agreement, your majesty? You haven't spoken to Veynard about it at all, you just sent the proposal through a letter three years ago.” Renat turned to face Andrés, one hand on hip as the other held his coat. Seeing that, the younger brunet quickly approached to take the coat off Renat's hand “The idea that you have so much faith in that boar to read any sort of business deal is insulting to me.” Renat sighed, dropping the coat on Andrés hands.

“If there was a sliver of chance he'd read it, let alone take it into account, I wouldn't have sent it.” He walked over to the window, grabbing the curtains and pulling it over, engulfing the room in subtle darkness “It's his whore of a wife who tends to such matters behind the scenes, and I’d drop the guillotine over my own neck if she ever did anything over the bare minimum when it comes to taking care of the common folk. She wouldn't even if it were to spite me. I bet the proposal was discarded long ago.” His sharp eyes returned back at Andrés, in the falling darkness of the room and suffocating silence, his cousin clutched the coat instinctively

*“Do not question me.”*

Shaking hands soon falling stable, Andrés let out breath and nodded, the usual expression returning to his face “Yes, your majesty.”

Renat smiled, cold and shallow at the quick recovery“Good.” While Andrés was from a distant branch of their Anzhelyn family line, he was still family, Renat didn't want to entertain the possibility of needing to smack sense into him again. His cousin was smart, and Renat liked smart people “Now, you can prepare me some tea, I got sick of smelling the wine everywhere.” Renat instructed with a wave of his hand and Andrés obeyed, placing the coat on the hanger before taking notice of all the clothes their maids had unpacked and arranged in Renat’s room, one in particular grabbing his attention.

"... I must inform you just in case.” Andrés started, his attention mostly on the tea but when Renat didn't respond, an indication for the brunet to continue, he carefully straightened his posture while holding the tea “It's unbecoming of anyone to wear black in this kingdom, especially during a ball." Renat clicked his tongue while sitting down on the couch, leaning his arm on the arm rest and crossing his legs "I'm not a fool, Andrés, I brought the black suit just in case a funeral happened."

Placing his head on his hand, Renat chuckled at distant memories flooding his mind “Last time I visited their daughter died all too suddenly. Though they didn't seem that sad over that lost “opportunity”.” She was to be a duke’s third wife, luckily for queen Isolde, the Duke of Varys still granted them support despite the princess passing away before their marriage

“Maybe” Renat chuckled once the tea was placed in front of him, he leaned down to gracefully grab it “They'd be more shocked if a son passed this time around.” He took a sip, comfortable in the eerie silence of the room after that statement.

—

Renat had been informed of Varys’ customs when he first took claim to the throne; always dress to impress, never show up on time. Evolution was fascinating, as the years passed, Varys’ wear became more theatrical and everyone showed up to parties later than ever.

“It's 9 o'clock.” Andrés informed him as Renat observed the state of affairs at the front of the palace's gate, with the ball starting at 7 PM, only two hours later carriages began to line up in front of the entrance “People have yet to gather, let's wait a little more.” Renat chuckled at the situation at hand, everyone insisted on arriving late yet the custom made it so they became a cluster of fools, unable to wait in line. Wanting to arrive first in the palace yet last in the ballroom.

Soon enough, the palace courtyard was lined with Varys’ finest; nobles dressed in garish colors, necks heavy with gemstones too large to be tasteful, faces powdered into unnatural masks. The guards held spears more decorative than functional.

'How have they not been invaded yet?'

“Brother, is it time to go yet?”

He turned to look behind him, taking note that his siblings had began to grow restless while just sitting around the waiting room, neither of them used to the custom of being polite by having to arrive late. Anxiety more apparent in his little sister, her brows furrowed as she gently fixed strands of her hair, while the older twin stood seated with his arms crossed, finger tapping on his arm while watching Renat, as if knowing the emperor was contemplating war plans. Renat chuckled softly, he knew his little doves were accustomed to being surrounded by guards, but being in an unfamiliar environment, with barely any information on who they'd be meeting, it was causing side effects they weren't used to.

And in turn making Renat's servant anxious as well, worried about their well being.

‘A nice cycle.’ Renat mused inwardly, pleased when watching his siblings battle with the possibility that they're committing some rude gesture by showing up two hours later than the set time “I suppose we can head off now, everyone seems to be arriving.” Carefully arranging your entrance to make an impact wasn’t something Renat had to worry about, not when his siblings were around.

Once they stood up, a little too quickly in excitement causing the maids to wince in worry, Renat chuckled as he approached them “Remember your manners, darlings.” His voice was firm, yet he lifted a hand to gently brush the knuckles of his fingers on Ruby’s cheek, not wanting to ruin the hard work the maids put on her hair by patting her head “Be as polite as you can.” Then gently patted Rudy’s hair, subtly fixing his crown “We’re visitors here, so it’s only fitting we play their games.” Rudy kept his gaze for a moment before slowly pushing aside Renat’s hand, fixing some loose strands by himself ‘Oh those rebellious streaks.’ Renat let out a quiet helpless sigh, maybe his brother was actually going through a phase.

Ruby took a deep breath and nodded, her expression determined while shaking her hands a few times, ridding herself of intense emotions, or attempting to at least "Yes brother, I promise we won't bring shame to our empire." Once she leaned closer, Renat lowered his head just a little so Ruby could whisper to him properly "And please make sure King Veynard answers for what happened to Eldermere, if it was intentional I mean." Renat chuckled, and he was sure two of the guards did so as well.

Right, he nearly forgot about that.

"And Rudy?” Renat straightened his posture “Any note for me to deliver the king?" The older twin just shook his head, glancing around the room in thought before speaking, his tone quiet "No, just... Settle what we came here to do so we can leave early." Something all Renat's people were in agreement with.

"Very well, let's see if the commotion at the entrance has slowed down so we can enter."

Despite their unwillingness, Renat ordered his guards to wait outside the ballroom, the emperor didn’t want to make his distaste about Veynard that known by bringing his own military to the party ‘They’ll go restless like that.’ The blond thought in amusement as he lead his siblings towards the open double doors. The ballroom shimmered like a dream, crystal chandeliers dangled like frozen stars, and the marble floors had been polished to an almost blinding sheen. Varys had spared no expense.

Once the trumpets blared at their entrance, Renat's brow twitched at the irritating sound, he couldn't help but think Veynard had done this intentionally even if everyone’s entrance was graced with being announced the same way. Whatever reason there could be to sort into why he disliked Varys, was one Renat would take into account.

Luckily for the servants on trumpet duty, Renat didn't memorize their faces, finding the reaction of the crowd much more enjoyable. The simple music in the ballroom had slowly come to a stop, the nobles slowly turning to look at the Lysaria royalty one by one as they walked to go greet their hosts. The twins, gaze set forward, posture straight, steps silent. Like they stepped out of a painting, ethereal and unreal.

And Renat walked like a man strolling through a slaughterhouse. So much was expected.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, Renat didn’t bow. Rudy placed a hand on his heart, bowing his head slightly, the single earring glistening under the light, while Ruby curtsied, her smile gentle once she straightened her posture, unlike Rudy’s disinterest.

"Thank you for the invite." Renat simply smiled, cutting the tension like a knife to flesh, his words setting everything back in motion.

Veynard awaited at the top of the steps, seated on his throne, his robe as wide as his eyes. Queen Isolde, draped in a red so deep it almost screamed blood, stood beside him with her hand resting delicately on his arm, her expression just as surprised before composing herself. The queen looked at Renat with the eyes of a snake sizing up another predator, then as if unable to contain her curiosity, began analyzing the twins.

With the ruler’s attention on his weapons, Renat cleared his throat, holding them from looking for too long "You said you couldn't wait to meet my siblings." His voice was loud and clear, as if everyone in the ballroom had stopped to listen to him, Renat knew they had "Well here they are, my beloved siblings, my heart, my joy, and the only things I would kill without hesitation to protect." That was a clear enough promise, he hoped everyone snapped back to reality than feed into foolish delusions of possibilities, for their own good at least.

"Good evening, your majesties.” Ruby spoke first, with everyone’s attention fully on her as the queen’s eyes narrowed ever so subtly “Thank you for inviting us to such a beautiful celebration, it’s simply astonishing." Her voice was sincere as she kept her unwavering gaze to the royalty atop the stairs "We appreciate your generosity." Rudy held back his attitude, his red irises on the couple while speaking before looking away, avoiding making eye contact with Isolde.

"... Thank you for gracing us with your presence." Verynard cleared his throat, he was taken aback, despite Renat dressing his dolls on such simple clothes, they somehow stood out even more because of it. He looked back at the crowd, growing flustered with the rare silence that befell the ballroom "What happened to the music? Why is everything so quiet?" The blond emperor smiled at the awkward tone of the instruments before they harmonized into the beautiful song before they entered, everyone was awake now. The nobles whispered like insects, the queen's eyes began to linger on Rudy longer than necessary, and close to the royal couple he spotted the group of three princes dazed.

"We shall enjoy the ball then.” Renat declared smoothly “Come along you two." The audience was finally over. And though it unfolded like he had orchestrated… The heat under his skin flared of incandescent loathing.

From complete and utter *disgust*.

Renat watched them devour the sight of his siblings, like they had some right. He nearly forgot that not everyone understood reality like the subjects of his empire did ‘Ah well.’ Renat took a breath as they walked away from the stairs ‘It’s a ball, I can spare a couple of hours.’ That’s what Renat had to do when he first became emperor, he became too used to not sharing during these last few years.

Once he stopped walking, the twins mimicked him, they had expected Renat would’ve told them to stick closely until the ball ended “Make sure to play nicely.” But his decision to allow them to make their own choices on the gilded floor was quite surprising, and Renat found it adorable “I’ll be on the second floor, the balcony gives a nice view to everything." A surprised doe, that’s what came to mind for Renat when looking at his siblings “You… Won’t be joining us?” Rudy frowned, his brows knitted together in confusion, unfamiliar with having freedom in a place that didn’t belong to Renat.

‘How cute.’ They looked lost and Renat found it funny. He shook his head “You two know I’m not fond of balls, and this is…” Extravagantly ornate.

“So you’re letting us do all the work.” Hitting it in the mark as usual, Rudy huffed in distaste, he was caught off guard by Renat’s decision to leave the two in a court they knew nothing about, what if they made mistakes? They barely knew the faces of the nobility because Renat told them nothing. It was… Careless. Ruby nudged her twin’s arm, as if to chide him for being so upfront in public “While I think you should go wherever you want, you should socialize some more, brother.” She took a look at Renat with a small sigh, a teasing smile on her face. If Renat didn’t need to be here then that signified to Ruby nothing was too serious just yet, but she wanted them to be more careful since they were in a foreign kingdom.

"I don't need to.” Not when they were here. Renat almost ruffled Ruby's hair but stopped himself in time, her hair needed to remain perfectly tied while here “I’ll be going now, but if you do need something, tell one of the maids to come get me.” The twins nodded, watching their brother leave for the stairs, the second floor being where more of the hidden nobility liked to reside when they had business with each other, a closed circle Renat didn’t care about intruding in.

Ruby gazed at the stairs, a thump of anxiety on her chest as her hand loosened the grip on her fan, it was strange when Renat wasn’t there, he’d always been there. She then took a breath, calming herself with newfound curiosity of the place “Ah right, the same advice I told Renat goes for you.” Rudy sighed once her hand patted his back “You two can’t always try to leave any group that surrounds you.” Renat was contemplating how Renat had thrown them to the wolves, luckily Ruby had enough nerves to laugh and tease, making their situation somewhat palliatable for the older twin.

“I’ll be near the balcony,” He simply stated with a shrug, her words having gone in one ear and out the other. Ruby pouted at this, returning the playfulness with a glare for his ‘Ignorance’. She cleared her throat, the top of her fan gently brushing across her chin “Then I shall take upon the vital investigation of taste testing the appetizers prepared.” With mock solemnity, she glanced up at him “I’ll come find you if I discover anything edible.” Rudy nodded, offering a melancholy smile to support her ‘precarious’ case before they separated.

Once Renat ascended to the second floor, he took a golden goblet once a butler approached, not that he had the intent to drink it, but now none would come insist he drinks. He leaned against the railing, a picture of relaxed observation with a serene smile and cold satisfaction, keeping track of his siblings as they moved through the glittering sea of Varysian nobility, the simplicity Renat dressed them in a stark contrast to gaudy excess.

As Renat’s teachings had molded her since young, Ruby walked with ethereal grace, the soft smile on her lips cast its own gentle light, but Renat never bothered to make her hide the sincerity of her person, a subtle thrum of excitement in her demeanor while passing anything of interest, her eyes darting with open curiosity towards the unfamiliar delicacies, the intricate glassware, the elaborate lace adoring clothes. A radiant star, out of place amidst beings who only knew how to covet, never able to truly appreciate her light.

Rudy was detached, lips set in a polite line but his gaze distant, wanting to remain alone. Quick glances to the people around him so he avoided contact, not wanting to bump into them and initiate conversation. Yet, paradoxically, his cool reserve served to heighten his allure, drawing attention in a way Renat considered insects attracted to pollen. Rudy carried the title of prince with effortless precision, his solitary nature only drawing in the wrong kind of interest.

Renat took a deep breath, then exhaled, people were starting to approach

Ruby drifted close to the banquet tables at last, her movements graceful and unhurried, a bunny resting in sun-dappled grass, seemingly unaware, or uncaring, of the wolves lurking in the shadows. When taking notice of a passing nobleman, their eyes locking momentarily once Ruby lifted her gaze, she offered a silent greeting, a radiant smile that visibly melted his composure. She stood out; if not by her face, then by her figure, if not by her body, then by her pale hair, if not by her hair, then by the simplicity of her gown. A violent, elegant insult to the jeweled dresses that surrounded her.

The women in the room had instantly taken note of her, sharp eyes narrowing behind ornate fans, whispers hissing quietly like venom. Jealousy hung heavy in the air just like the scent of wine.

“Look at her.” One woman clicked her tongue in disdain, eyeing Ruby’s dress with a critical eye “Barely a stitch of lace. And those diamonds on the corset? Practically invisible.” Another, voice a sharp edge, added with a huff “She must think herself above the rest of us, seriously, who shows up to a ball like…” She clutched her fan, teeth gritted “Like that.”

Ruby was too in her head to listen in on their conversation, contemplating her choices on the array of pastries with genuine deliberation. ‘Mind your manners.’ Is what Renat instructed, so her choice suddenly seemed to hold more importance in her mind.

“You should try this one, your highness.” Ruby paused, glancing besides her to see a brunette woman, the lady had approached Ruby with a suggestion, and most likely curiosity. Ruby’s expression brightened with relief “Oh, thank you, my lady!” The tension visibly left her body, her voice sweet as spun sugar “I was having quite a difficult time as I'm not familiar with any of these delightful treats, your suggestion is much appreciated.”

Once Ruby giggled, light and genuine, a little playful even, it was akin to floodgates being opened. Within moments, a cluster of ladies surrounded her like moths to a flame, each one vying for a chance to speak to the foreign princess. Some sought favor, others friendship, to satiate curiosity, or to undermine her. However, the initial hostility was momentarily submerged beneath a wave of fascination.

"You look very dazzling, your highness.” One woman ventured, her voice clean cut when interrupting one of the other ladies who had handed Ruby a pastry, it quieted down the group “However, I wish you had dressed more according to our customary styles.” Her tone was laced with faux concern, pity in her eyes when looking towards Ruby. Faint, malicious giggles sounded from behind fans.

But Ruby merely sighed helplessly as she kept her attention on the lady who spoke to her “Thank you, lady Amelia.” Nodding, her voice sweet like the pastry she was holding “I do agree it is a shame I couldn’t have prepared my wear better, unfortunately, the invitation arrived only a few days prior, so my eldest brother arranged our clothes on short notice.” She explained, before offering a warm, thankful smile “Your advice is most appreciated, I’d be grateful if you told me more about the usual styles of the kingdom, so I can be more respectful of your customs should I ever be invited again.”

Amelia stared, momentarily stunned into silence by the sheer force of Ruby’s humility and understanding, the circle of women following suit to the lady’s state. The genuine warmth of Ruby’s gratitude for pointing out a mistake was tangible, deconstructing their envy for a heartbeat. Even if it was inevitable for jealousy to simmer underneath, it was difficult to outwardly fester resentment under the presence of such… Affection.

The chatter from the group had overridden the music beforehand, but now, Ruby could hear the band again. Leaving a group speechless wasn’t new, but Ruby worried over having brought down the lovely atmosphere. She was slightly concerned while still looking at Amelia, as if to search for clues before her eyes glinted in appreciation as they settled on her necklace “I must say, my lady, the jewelry on the necklace you’re wearing is truly exquisite.” The white haired girl remarked with open admiration.

Amelia blinked, unable to find her words as she reached up to instinctively touch the gems, momentarily flustered “Oh… Thank you, your highness.” A flush rose in her powdered cheeks, pausing to take a breath “It was custom made, my father gifted my husband and I a mine for my birthday recently, so I thought this banquet would be a good opportunity to make use of our products.” The lady lighty fanned herself, a cooling sensation for when Ruby stared at her “It’s lovely.” The princess commented, her eyes softening while keeping Amelia’s gaze, as if reaching to her heart “Especially because it matches your green eyes. I say it compliments your beauty very well.” Murmurs of agreement rippled from the group once Ruby relayed her thoughts, and Amelia’s earlier condescension was replaced by pride.

“A shame nonetheless about the dress code, however” Another lady pressed, unable to resist her curiosity “Do you like gems, your highness?” Just because the princess wasn’t wearing them, doesn’t mean she disliked them, right?

“Oh!” Ruby’s eyes lit up “I do!” Then dimmed, the cheery attitude deflating for a second “Unfortunately, my brother isn’t particularly fond of them.” Ruby sighed, her hand reaching up to hold her cheek, helpless in her endeavour “Once, I pleaded with him to replace all the windows in my room with stained glass, just to fill it with color. But alas, no such luck.” With that regrettable anecdote, Ruby managed to draw in genuine, surprised giggles from the ladies. The atmosphere began turning pleasant, making conversation flow into gratifying territory.

One woman, captivated, reached out almost hesitantly while her eyes remained fixated on Ruby, with a gloved hand, the knuckles of her fingers gently touching Ruby’s cheek. Ruby blinked, a little surprise at the sudden action but didn’t recoil, it felt familiar to Renat’s action but… A little more intense, and the woman was a stranger “Your skin… It’s impossibly soft, your highness.” Some of the ladies were frowning, staring at the scene in confusion from such forwardness but others seemed just as entranced “So unblemished, one almost wonders if applying cosmetics would even be an improvement.” Even if the scene disturbed half the ladies present, agreeable murmurs followed from the group.

Ruby pulled herself together, pushing aside the uncomfortable prick in her skin so she wouldn’t make a scene, she couldn’t… “I quite adore cosmetics, actually!” Another musical giggle from the girl, making herself forget of the sensation so it wouldn’t bother her onwards “The artistry, how colors can complement each other, it’s such a wonderful form of expression. I’m delighted Varys has so many distinct style throughout its history.”

Seizing the moment, another woman leaned in closer to Ruby “How long will you be gracing us with your presence, your highness?” Ruby pretended clueless to the sudden invasion on her personal space, humming thoughtfully “I believe we will be staying for at least a week.”

"Wonderful!” The lady exclaimed in delight “Three days from now during morning time, us ladies have a tea party with each other. You're more than welcome to join us if you wish." A few ladies began holding their breath, Amelia especially clutching at her fan, her heart pounding with anticipation.

"You're much too kind, Mrs. Willow.” Appreciation spread through Ruby’s heart, convincing herself of their warm welcome “Then… As long as it would be alright with everyone, I’d be more than happy to join.” Her beautiful gem-like eyes glanced through the group, laughing softly at their relief from her acceptance. Then her expression turned earnestly serious “What should I wear? Are there any specific customs I should follow? Colors themes? I’ll make sure to head to a boutique if I lack anything.” Her sincere desire for their suggestions further disarmed the ladies, making them giggle quietly and take care in explaining their usual customs to Ruby.

One of the ladies however, was quite detached from the conversation. Marianna observed Rubina with a deepening frown hiding behind her fan. The princess’s open warmth, her strikingly genuine reactions, her innocent delight in all of the ladies present… It reminded Marianna of the younger sister she lost to the plague years ago, the pain clutched at her heart with each dazzling smile Ruby showed ‘Pity.’ Marianna schooled her expression to a polite smile for the social circle, fanning herself despite the sudden chill down her spine. The dehumanizing way in which the others touched the princess without much warning, commenting on her attributes, staring with awe as if she was a doll on display.

The chandelier’s light hit on the gems of Ruby’s crown, the glimpse of that reflection catching Marianna’s attention and her chest finally moved as she breathed, relieved of the tension. Luckily, the imperial protection served as a shield for Rubina, if such an open-hearted beauty were to stand alone then… The consequences made Marianna clutch her hand, fist trembling. The attention wouldn’t just be impolite, but downright predatory. A complex, grudging respect knotted in her mind for the Lysarian emperor while observing the princess; He had raised the girl to absorb attention like flowers with sunlight, never to question its source or intent, never to flinch.

It was terrifying he didn’t teach her to establish her surroundings with more control, she’d be… Safer.

Marianna sighed as she managed to take a few steps closer to Ruby, whatever is done is done, and as she watched the princess grace her with a thankful smile once Marianna shushed Mrs. Willow away from being too touchy, the brunette knew she’d commit to shielding Ruby at least from the worst of men in Varys ‘Now, where has that fool fiancé of mine vanished?’

From his place in the balcony, Renat watched the cluster of jealous women becoming a protective, adoring flock of fools around his sister. A silent scoff of disdain escaped from him at their closeness. Yet he could never stop adoring the way his sister handled such people. Her natural, untrained magnetism was efficient, a flame drawing moths who burned themselves on her sincerity, at the very least forming a shield against the more lecherous gazes.

He noticed Marianna soon after, a woman’s protective stance near Ruby unlike the rest of that flock “How protective.” A cold smile stretched on his lips as he saw Marianna glare over her shoulder, shooing off any man who tried to approach too closely. Ruby’s radiance was perfectly following the path he’d set. Fearless and clueless, she’d soak up attention just as he’d conditioned her, her authenticity being her shield and Renat’s tool. He pretended to take a slow sip from his goblet, playing her part instinctively and turning potential enemies into unwitting guardians. Yes, she’d have an easy time here, especially with those who like to look at pretty things.

Her nature disarms them.

And her blindness to their true gaze? It was one of his carefully crafted masterpieces.

He shifted his gaze from Rubina’s radiant circle towards Rudian. He was easy to spot, having drifted close to the balcony doors, any longer unattended and he might just slip outside. A futile hope for the prince. He stood out like a rose among stones, his soft features and cool elegance a stark contrast to Varys’ preferred aesthetics of rugged charm and theatrical flamboyance for men. Just as with Ruby, Varysians were transfixed with him. But he remained a frozen, unapproachable thing that hadn’t smiled for them ever since he entered.

A young nobleman, Vincenzo, one of the Marquise’s more impulsive sons, had caught sight of Rudy and locked on. Once their eyes met briefly, those red eyes ignited a spark of bravery, and he was the first of many to approach.

Rudy’s quest remained to be the balcony, some fresh air would do him better than the overwhelming scent of wine, one could get intoxicated by just breathing at this point. However, he was stopped once Vincenzo stepped directly into his path. Rudy’s brows subtly knitted together in confusion as he looked at the stranger, noting there might be another reason for his approach besides that thin veil of polite interest.

“Do you play chess, your highness?” Once Vincenzo spoke, Rudy's expression relaxed at the subtle mockery lacing the charming voice, it wouldn’t be hard to know of his intentions then “Or perhaps… Chess is too demanding for a pretty prince like you.” A smirk played on Vincenzo’s lips “I could call for a servant to bring us flowers instead. Flower arranging might be more suited, I heard it’s a common practice in Lysaria.” Rudy let out a short huff through his nose, tilting his head to the side in wonder of where that claim even came from, though Vincenzo’s breath audibly hitched at his action ‘God damn it…’ Rudy frowned, crossing his arms in distaste, he thought he was being mocked, not *studied*.

Being acutely aware of his surroundings, Rudy always exhibited a masterful calmness no matter how many eyes transfixed on him, even if he grew uncomfortable. He was now seeing first hand how Vincenzo’s attitude deflated once realizing his moment of courage had summoned an audience. A flicker of reluctant pity stirred in Rudy, and spite for the possibility that Renat was enjoying what was happening. Rudy sighed, not wanting for Vincenzo to bear a sting of public humiliation, he decided to offer the man a silver of grace “If you’d like to play chess with me, I don’t mind humouring you.”

Everything came to a pause, even Vincenzo looked at Rudy with slight surprise, not having expected the prince’s voice to be so… Sweet. The white haired boy remained the same, expression nonchalant but now, *finally*, properly looking at them “So? Where is the chess table?”

With that statement, the challenge was thrown, and the air around them shifted. The crowd became restless as servants were told to quickly put together a chess table, and Rudy realized his body began to grow weary at the drinks and appetizers suddenly present for everyone to enjoy while watching the aloof prince duel against one of their own. ‘All this over amature chess…’ Rudy scoffed to himself, not that he’d like to undermine his skills, and he’s neve heard of Vincenzo before so the man wasn’t a genius at chess, so why was everyone so eager to see the outcome of the match.

Rudy observed Vincenzo talking to a group of men, anxious and excited for a reason Rudy didn’t want to admit, so the male simply sighed and pulled his chair, sitting down and waiting until his opponent was ready to begin.

After VIncenzo let Rudy start first, as a “gentlemanly” act, the crowd fell somewhat silent once pieces began movingRudy could finally enjoy the beautiful music of the band. His face remained impassive, calm concentration as his hands moved pieces across the board with the precision of a master player. In the span of minutes, Vincenzo's defenses crumbled, pieces were falling one by one, each move Rudy made more deliberate than the last. The young nobleman flustered red, eyes darting nervously to the murmuring crowd, realizing the depth of his miscalculation when challenging the young prince to a match- when *approaching* him.

Rudy felt no triumph in the crowd chattering him up praises, only the oppressing weight of unwanted attention as he made his final move.

"Checkmate," Rudy declared with finality, his voice emotionless, his expression remained passive, yet his gaze shifted towards the direction of the balcony with subtle longing.

A ripple of stunned silence, then hushed exclamations swept through the onlookers once Rudy actually won, by a landslide. Vincenzo looked as if Rudy had reached over the table and physically struck him, his pride in tatters. But worse than the defeat, his gaze fixed on Rudy harboured a new intensity, a dark, possessive hunger Rudy was all too familiar with.

“Let’s try another round.”

The demand carried a raw desire, edged with obsession. He wasn’t just defeated, he was enthralled. Rudy glanced around, seeing the same consuming fire ignite several other male faces, not admiration for his skill, but a predatory fascination with the prize. They say the prince, not the man; an exquisite object to be coveted and won.

Rudy exhaled softly through his nostrils, ignoring the strain ‘Renat said to play nice.’ Rudy reminded himself, he couldn’t act out, not when he was just being looked at “It’d be rude of me to refuse...” He had to end it swiftly, any more spectacle and he’d fall right into his orchestrated role from Renat.

Rudy’s moves this time were more decisive and quick, winning him an easy victory.

“Again.” Vincenzo insisted, oblivious to his own humiliation, consumed by the need to *possess* the experience with the prince, the proximity.

Rudy frowned, gaze flickering to the growing crowd. He agreed to the third match solely to end the spectacle, his introverted nature recolining from the suffocating press all on him, he was sure if he’d cheated no one would’ve noticed. Once trapping Vincenzo’s king and winning the match, Rudy raised a hand, trying to end it with as much decorum as he had left “Thank you.” He offered a small, genuine smile, not particularly warm, but with his soft features, it was impossible to call it malicious, he meant to soften the blow and grant Vincenzo some dignity after three consecutive losses “The people I play with in Lysaria are often similar, but here, there seems to be a variety of moves I’m not familiar with.”

‘Please just let me leave.’ Rudy slightly pushed the board away from him “Thank you for playing with me, it was fun, but I think that’s enough for tonight.”

Vincenzo stared at Rudy with dazed wonder, utterly disarmed by the smile and unexpected gestures, before he could react however, a hand pressed on his cheek, one of his buddies pushing him away so he could claim his seat "Your highness should play with me next! I actually know a lot of different strategies!" The demand wasn’t for the game, but an ownership of his attention.

“Wait! I’m the best player here!”

“But I play chess the most!”

“Hey! Quit pushing me!”

‘How lively…’ Rudy kept his expression from revealing how exhausted and irritated he was from the extravaganza of it all. He pushed his chair back silently, rising with grace while the noblemen squabbled over their turn to consume him “You gentlemen can settle your rankings amongst yourselves. Excuse me.” He slipped through the crowd before they could react, quickly making his escape.

Emerging from the chess-induced frenzy, Rudy managed to catch sight of his sister surrounded by the other ladies. He tensed, a protective urge rushing through his veins when seeing one of the ladies gently grasp at Ruby’s hand, caressing it with awed possessiveness while another had the gall to gently brush the loose strands of her hair. Even if his sister put on a smile for them, for *him*, her hand gently brushed through her hair, playing with a few loose strands while her gaze momentarily unfocused. Rudy knew she was trying to keep it together, a bitter thread connecting them through the shared experience.

He subtly tilted his head upwards, eyes instinctively towards the balcony to meet Renat’s distant, observing gaze. A surge of resentment flared ‘You knew this would happen. You wanted this spectacle.’ Rudy was about to glare at his older brother’s smug look before bumping into someone.

“I’m sorry, are you alright, my lady?” Rudy apologized instantly, his attention fully on the lady. He noticed the pastry she’d been holding had smeared cream on her hand from their impact. His expression twitched, realizing he’d become an inconvenience, genuine regret twisted in his gut.

Marianna nodded hastily, she wasn’t upset about her ruined treat, well, it wasn’t hers, and it was better she threw it away “I’m perfectly fine, your highness. I just dirtied my hand, it can be cleaned with a quick trip to the ladies room.” Her tone wasn’t accusetarie, and the women smiled gently to ease Rudy’s worry. The prince was silent, he wasn’t being studied, it was… It did put him at ease. Reminding himself of their predicament, Rudy pulled out a white, monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket “It was my fault entirely, so please…” He offered it, the gesture stemming from sincere remorse and appreciation, trusting she wouldn’t treat it like a trophy.

Marianna was a little surprised, the prince and princess really were twins, their identical faces like a mirror. Her expression softened as she took the handkerchief “Thank you, your highness.” Marianna believed he was more passive than Ruby, but looking closer, even their personalities were somewhat similar “I shall have it cleaned and return it to you.”

Rudy nodded, a flicker of relief obvious in his demeanor from the sigh he let out. However grateful he was from his uncomplicated interaction, he bid goodbye to Marianna and quickly left, hoping whatever group had decided to chase after him would lose interest sooner than later.

Marianna watched him disappear, her expression somber, the weight of tonight’s evening pressing down her shoulders, not only from the princess but now from the prince as well. Then she took notice of the panting man having stumbled besides her “Oh, there you are Vincenzo! I’ve been looking for you all evening.” Marianna huffed while studying her fiancé head to toe, a disapproving stare when seeing him so out of breath “Sorry…” He inhaled deeply “Um- Did you see which way his highness Rudian went?”

“No.” Marinna replied coolly, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly while holding onto the cream-stained handkerchief like evidence “He accidentally bumped into me and gave me this. But afterwards, the crowd became too much for me to tell where he went.”She observed the immediate, unsettling shift in Vincenzo’s eyes as it looked onto the fabric. It wasn’t consent, it wasn’t even jealousy. It was a need to posses, like the handkerchief wasn’t silk but a piece of the prince.

“I… I could return it to him for you, Marianna.” Vincenzo offered, as if he was making her a deal while an awkward, eager smile stretched his face, trying to snatch the cloth away from her “Save you the trouble!-” Marianna swiftly pulled the handkerchief back, smacking his extended hand away with her fan “Don’t be ridiculous. It needs laundering first, imperial cloth, no matter how small, requires care.” Her voice was steel, putting the final nail in the coffin to this discussion.

"Oh, men don't care about that sort of thing!" Vincenco huffed, brows knitting together in confusion and slight irritation.

“Perhaps ordinary men don’t.” She continued sharply, folding the handkerchief as neatly as she could despite it being dirty so she could hold it more securely “But the prince and princess exist beyond such vulgar carelessness. *I* will have it cleaned and returned to her highness Rubina, then she’ll return it to her brother.” Marianna huffed ‘You will not use this as an excuse to corner him. You will not turn his kindness into a token of your obsession.’ She’s already gone through a nerve wracking experience enough.

An uncomfortable chill gnawed at her gut while watching Vincerno whine about her decision like a child. The ballroom was like a dark, ravenous sea, and only two luminous beings swam within it, transcending gender in their allure, attracting every form of consumption. She took a steadying breath, fingering protectively clenching around the silk. If she didn’t return it to Ruby swiftly, someone *would* try to steal it. She’s already seen ladies and men alike pocketing pastries Ruby had bitten into or touching, after placing them on the table for a moment, they’d be gone when she looked back, reducing her to consumable fragments.

‘Truly a pity.’ Marianna thought, the sentiment heavy with profound sadness and anger. Such light, such kindness shouldn’t be prey in this gilded abattoir. They were not people here.

From his vantage point, Renat watched the scenes unfold with a slow, dangerous smile. His siblings were playing their roles perfectly, both of them drawing people in. And making it so Renat was spared the mingling from the nobility.

But then Renat's gaze drifted to the queen. She remained seated on her throne, isolated in her own regal bubble while the king left to his fun. Her eyes locked onto Rudy walking around the ballroom, managing to avoid the new fangroup of wolves he had trailing him. The deliberation in her eyes was unmistakable, lust, yes, but there was something primal there.

Renat felt disgust bubble up his throat.

And the princes?

All three of them were like their mother, unable to hide their explicit need. Cedric, the weak-willed heir, was staring at Ruby with the slack-jawed devotion of a stunned sheep. Darius, in all his brutish swagger the Varys’ seemed to adore, was scanning any men near Ruby like a wolf assessing rivals. That third son, Tritan was it? Renat could guess he was trying to create schemes; manipulate Ruby’s favor, sabotage his brother’s chances. At least that’s what his informant had reported, Tritan didn’t remain much in the spotlight.

Renat’s jaw clenched, the serene mask cracking for a fraction of a second. The heat in his chest flared, a rage rushing through his veins, like undiluted venom. ‘Shameless animals. Circling, salivating, waiting to sink their teeth into what is mine.’ Renat placed the goblet on the balcony with a faint sound, the wine still untouched. They weren’t acting yet, merely assessing the feast. But the assessment itself was an affront to Renat.

‘Enough.’ The emperor clicked his tongue, pushing himself off the railing. The performance was over, it was time he put his siblings to bed.

The heir was displaying an unusual persistence “Please… Surely you can spare a dance, princess. You haven’t danced with anyone the entire ball.” The girl’s expression was conflicted, remembering Renat’s words that they shouldn't dance with anyone tonight. “I apologize, your highness.” Ruby bowed her head, her voice a melody of regret while turning down Cedric’s request “Because of my health right now I don't think I'd be a proper candidate as your dance partner.” Or, she was attempting to reject him. With Cedric just a step away from her, pressing on further with a display of weakness, Ruby stared at his extended hand in contemplation, guilt whispering in her ear about leaving this poor guy rejected when he was being so earnest and open in front of everyone “... Well…” She took a breath, ready to disobey one of Renat’s orders.

But just as she raised a hand, she stopped. Smile turning just a little brighter, in contrast of the atmosphere plunging in temperature at the appearance of the Lysaria’s emperor behind Cedric.

“Oh, hello there prince Cedric, I almost didn’t see you this time as well.” Renat’s voice cut through the air, smooth as silk yet laced with unmistakable mockery once the prince didn’t even lift his head to look at Renat, his extended arm beginning to tremble before pulling back “I do apologize for interrupting, however,” He looked at Ruby, expression softening “I must reclaim my siblings for the night. At this state, I fear exhaustion may claim them.” *Step off. Now.*

Renat chuckled once Cedric flinched, surely understanding the implication of his words. Once he stepped back, Renat beckoned for Ruby to come over to his side. Of course his sister first bid goodbye to the group of ladies that had kept her company during the ball, then before walking past Cedric, she slightly bowed in front of the heir, a smile so radiant it seared itself onto his soul "I wish you a good night, your highness."

Renat watched, unimpressed as Cedric was stunned stupid, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and hopelessly lovesick. *Pathetic*. He repressed a sigh once Ruby was by his side, then with a sharp glance around the ballroom he caught sight of Rudy, once the two locked eyes, a subtle tilt of Renat’s head was all the command needed; Rudy quickly began walking over, a silent relief breathing life into him once his group of wild dogs fell silent at the sight of Renat there.

Renat ignored the way Rudy gave him a side glare ‘You’ll appreciate what I do for you.’ The eldest brother lifted a hand to ruffle Rudy’s hair, just because Rudy couldn’t drive them away himself, didn’t mean he had to blame Renat for his inability to do so. But now with his siblings by his side, they could leave.

Renat’s gaze swept the room, finding Veynard, predictably, slumped in drunken camaraderie with a few of the older noblemen. And Isolde… They made eye contact as her eyes were still fixed on their group. But specifically on Rudy. And once she smiled, he noticed Rudy flinch. Renat pulled both twins slightly in front of him, placing himself as a physical barrier between blocking Isolde’s sight. He directly challenged her gaze with a smile of his own and narrowed eyes like shards of ice, delivering a silent, lethal warning that promises consequences far beyond diplomatic incidents.

*Touch them and I will burn your kingdom to the ground.*

The queen’s expression didn’t flicker, but the tension in her posture tightened almost imperceptibly.

‘Disgusting.’ Renat thought while exiting the oppressive ballroom with his siblings. He only truly relaxed when his own guards, having waited close by the door ever since Renat told them to, closed ranks tightly around the twins. ‘It’s been so long since I encountered such brazen vermin. Do all people in Varys think life is a fairytale?’ Isolde and Veynard must know he pulled the strings of their daughter’s demise. So why this boldness? This open coveting of how own?

Well, nothing Renat cared about. Their intent isn’t what matters when their actions are why Renat wants them gone.

“Guard their doors at all time.” Renat ordered Noah once the twins were fussed over by their maids, quickly pulled to their respective rooms so they could get ready for bed “And the maids must remain inside their rooms all night.” Tonight did prove useful, as his siblings must have grown uncomfortable in the new environment with Renat not present, still, extra precaution never hurt anybody. After three nights, Renat will make sure they’ll be sleeping in the same room ‘Like when they were 6.’ The emperor’s happy reminiscence was interrupted once hearing a voice call out to him.

“Um, your majesty.” Renat averted his gaze, the butler stood nervously in place “Oh, it's you from this morning.”

‘Hah.’ The blond chuckled once the servant mumbled through his words, surprised that he was remembered "Go on, what is it that you want to tell me?"

"K-king Veynard requests… Requests the pleasure of your company, and that of the prince and princess for breakfast tomorrow morning."

"Ah, how thoughtful of them to invite us." Renat smiled, taking a couple of steps towards the servants, noticing him tense like a cornered rabbit. Then, Renat gently patted his shoulder, an action incredibly kind yet carrying the weight of imperial pressure "Good work, you can return now and tell Veynard we'll be there."

The butler stood there in utter confusion, before managing a small, hesitant smile and a bow “Yes, your majesty.” As he turned to leave, Renat cleared his throat, stopping him in place with that soft and clear tone “Have a good night.”

The butler’s eyes went wide, he quickly whirled around and bowed deeply, flustered “H-Have a good night as well, your majesty!”

As they watched the boy leave, he heard Noah chuckle besides him "Thoran will be disappointed when he learns you're still soft hearted deep down, your majesty." Renat smiled, a genuine flicker of dark amusement this time as he tilted his head to look at Andrés "It's in my nature unfortunately."

"Quite benevolent, if I say so myself, your majesty." Andrés responded with that same smile. That boy will be of some decent use.

—

Next morning dawned too early for Renat’s liking, it pained Renat having to wake up his siblings so they could have breakfast with those heathens, he had to fight the urge of deciding to lie and say they had caught a sickness that would last a whole week so they couldn’t leave those rooms.

Of course, in the dining room breakfast was served with wine, completely ruining Renat’s appetite, well that, *and* the blatant display of disrespect with these insects looking at his siblings. Veynard shoveled food with boorish enthusiasm, while Isolde’s gaze was less brazen than the night before, it still lingered a little too long, asking solely Rudy questions that Renat was more than happy to answer.

At least Cedtic was the only prince present, his babbled and flustered speech mostly directed at Ruby, who endured with the patience of a saint. But no matter how sincere her interest was to hear about Cedric’ last hunting trip. Renat couldn't keep sacrificing his sister's patience on this man any further.

"Veynard.” Renat spoke, his voice cutting through Cedric’s chatter. All eyes snapping to him, causing the room’s false politeness to be put in suspension “I have a request.” Renat laid his head on his hand “I intend to take my siblings out to explore the capital today, may I take a few of your servants?” Not guards. Servants.

Veynard pondered for a moment, mouth full as he glanced at his queen. When Isolde gave a simple nod, bored with such a simple request, her attention drifting to Rudy’s profile, Veynard gulped down the food he was chewing “Do as you wish.” He grunted, waving a dismissive hand.

Renat smiled, glancing behind at the familiar butler who stood at attention right behind his seat "You there…” The young man blinked, as if anticipating the order “Gather a few of your colleagues, you'll be following me today." The butler's eyes showed surprise for a moment before he nodded, already relaxed.

And Renat smiled.

"Yes your majesty.”

#my ocs #oc art #oc artwork #ruby anzhelyn #original characters #rudy anzhelyn #renat anzhelyn #oc writing #my oc stuff #oc story #platonic yandere #artwork #my art #art study

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hollowghostsonfilm · 3 months ago

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Jujutsu Kaisen Fanfic Master List

This got really long so I'm putting it under a Read More.

Satosugu | Inuokko | Itafushi pairings mostly.

Hollow Series Master List

Summary

Satoru Gojo wakes up in the body of his sixteen-year-old self, 6 months before the Star Plasma Vessel mission. He's certain its a domain. Or a curse. Or a hallucination born at the moment of his death. It can't be real. Geto is alive. Shoko is there. The dorm floorboards creak at the exact right place. He has to focus, has to work out how to break out of this domain. But hope has teeth, and Gojo has been bitten. Haunted by a future that only he remembers, Gojo has to walk the knife's edge between redemption and madness. Because if this is real, he can't let it go the same way again.

The Echo Begins

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

The Rot in the System

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 4.5 | 5 | 6

Where the Line Breaks

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Children of the Future

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

The Fracture (ongoing)

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

The Hollow and the Whole (Coming soon)

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

AO3 Link | Art Sketch Dump ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

Summoned Master List

Summary:

They're not together anymore. But Gojo can't help but keep coming back, and Suguru keeps pulling him apart, inch by inch. It doesn't matter that he's the strongest man alive when he's begging.

[Or: Gojo keeps screwing Suguru, even after Suguru has defected. There's not really much plot here.]

Warning: 18+, NSFW, Consensual BDSM

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

AO3 Link

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

Sugar on the Tongue Master List

Summary: Satoru Gojo is the most expensive host at Tokyo's most exclusive club - dazzling, impossible, and doesn't actually NEED the money. He just WANTS it. Suguru Geto is absolutely unimpressed by all of it. He won't book a room, he won't pick a host, and he seems immune to Gojo's charms. And Gojo? He's never met a man who he wants to keep him more.

It's a romance story parading as a Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby dynamic featuring a very pretty, very bratty man who finally gets spoiled for real.

Warning: 18+, NSFW, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby

AO3 Link

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

Zero Sync [心中0]

Summary:

“You could have just said ‘we need the freaks back’ and saved us the horror movie.” “Why us? There are other pilots who could operate it.” “Only two pilots have ever survived a full Sync at 70% or higher in Shinjuu 0. They’re both in this room.”

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto had the strongest Sync Rate of any pilots of their generation, the only two who could pilot the advanced Frame, Shinjuu 0. Until five years ago, when everything went to shit and the two haven't been in the same room together since. Now there's a titanic cursed entity climbing Tokyo Tower, and they're the only two able to fight it. Forced to co-pilot again is one thing, but Syncing back into each other's heads again? That's a whole other problem.

Warning: 18+, Dark Themes

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

AO3 Link

Whisper a Spell

Summary:

Yuuta came to the mountain to heal. He has a wound that no one can mend. The healer who takes him in is silent, strange, and yet achingly familiar. As the healing starts to peel back layers of his memories, Yuuta finds himself not haunted by war or monsters, but by a name on his tongue that he's deperate to remember. -- Yuuta: I’m just here to get my leg fixed and definitely not fall for the mysterious, annoyingly beautiful healer with amazing hands and a playful side. Toge: -signs- lol okay

Read here:

AO3 Link

Summary:

Every time Yuuta tries to flirt with the cute barista, something explodes. Or catches fire. Or screams. It’s probably fine.

AO3 Link Or Read Here

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

Unsent Messages

Summary:

Every time Yuuta tries to flirt with the cute barista, something explodes. Or catches fire. Or screams. It’s probably fine.

AO3 Link Or Here

#masterlist

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e-adlirez · 27 days ago

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This is how vampire AUs are made right

So in my research, I've found that vampire AUs come in roughly two categories: either it's for the sexy vampire times or it's for the wholesome [insert aesthetic] goth love story. Very valid, very understandable.

And then my aroace ass went

SOOOOooo

TW: blood (a lot of blood), whatever's morbid in watching a rabid animal, and animalistic self-harm (and unfinished sketches)

So basically the gist is that vampires are a bit of a rarity that do in fact exist in this world, but some random-ass cult read the Necronomicon one too many times as of late and decided it'd be cool and the perfect excuse for immortality to revive THE Count Dracula that y'know, Abraham Van Helsing and dudes fought and the cowboy died killing, the one that threatened to conquer all of Europe.

Yeah :D flawless immortality plan if you ask me :D

Anyway Vi accidentally walks in on them doing their thing just as the ritual finishes and uhhhh yeah she's the first thing a very hungry Dracula sees soooooooo uh yeah he quickly drained her and then shoved some of his blood down her throat to turn her

Now she's a fledgling vampire, which in this AU is a vampire that hasn't gotten its first taste of human (or in this case mouse) blood yet. Now uh, Vi did not ask for this, she really doesn't wanna be a vampire and really wants out, and while Dracula's like "mmm yeah no I've gotten that sentiment a lot before and all of them either turned around or died", he's also very intrigued at Vi's perceived naive stubbornness, and does acknowledge the fact that at this stage in Vi's vampirism, her soul technically isn't bound to her vampire side yet until she drinks blood and becomes a full vampire, so technically speaking she can try to ride out the vampire blood Drac put into her system until it dies out. So he decides to indulge Vi's attempt at doing the vampire equivalent of an alcoholic going completely sober while working as a bartender, purely for the entertainment value because this is probably the most interesting thing that's happened to him since his revival besides the whole modern world thing; and now Vi is trying to go completely cold turkey with drinking blood.

While still doing daily life things.

In a university with at least a couple hundred students.

While she's somewhat influenced by Drac and thus feels whenever he's ravenously hungry.

This can't go wrong at all :D

Totally nothing's going wrong :D even when some students start complaining of weird feelings of weakness and low blood pressure and weird bite marks and the local security guard ( @soda-gremlin's OC Parker) turns out to be a vampire hunter :D It's fine :D it's fine it's fiiiinneeee :DDDD

Anyway I am E I bring blorbo angst once more, for SPN readers a chapter teaser is coming out tomorrow, enjoy :]

#geronimo stilton #thea stilton #thea sisters #vampire au #in this au at least fledglings don't fully have the vampire trait stuffs yet #sensitivity to sunlight isn't that bad reflections in mirrors are still there but wonk #ooo and regular food does give a bit of sustenance but the caveat is uh #it's gonna be bland as fuck :D #literally gonna be living the life of that one guy interviewed by great big story who permanently lost his sense of taste to a weird cold #OOh and uh because of how vamps are made in this au a vampire is to some extent connected to their sire or the one who turned them #it's like vampire the masquerade #so at least for this bit vi will be feeling the same hunger drac does whenever he wakes up to feed #drac can mind control her but uh she's very lucky that he chooses not to #he likes watching her struggle and make her life harder than it needs to be #omg he's just like me fr <3 /j #but also leave the blorbo alone >:[

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cowgirlcasanova · 10 months ago

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LIQUOR & LONLINESS

pairing | arthur morgan x fem! oc

summary | arthur sees caroline alone by the fire and gives her some company. caroline can’t stand seeing him so exhausted and tries to take some weight off his shoulders

tags | fluff, flirting but everyone denies it, two idiots pretending not to be in love, fireside chat, massage, cute nervous arthur

word count | 2.5k

a/n | hi bffs! this is my first time ever publishing a fic! i’ve been trying to get back into creative writing again so here we are. please be nice to me ok? :)

i plan on publishing more arthur fics with this oc, building up their world/relationship & revealing her backstory. i just always think it’s so fun to read about ocs so i thought i’d give it a try! so this is a little introduction. hope you like it <3

A small sliver of the moon peeked through the clouds reflecting off the bay surrounding Clemens Point.

The glow of the moon and the dying firelight contrasted beautifully on Carolines face, something Arthur couldn’t help but take notice of as he gazed at her from under the awning of his wagon.

He couldn’t force himself to revert his gaze, completely enthralled by the way the shadows danced across her at the smallest of movements. He was already picturing the angle in which he’d have to move his pencil to even attempt at sketching the sight of the warm and cool light dueling on her face. Arthur cursed himself under his breath at the mere thought of filling another page in his journal with her face, something he’d found himself doing far too often these days.

“Arthur you miserable fool.” He muttered to himself, grimacing as he stretched out his overworked body and rose off his cot.

Caroline sat alone, unsure if the heat she was feeling was radiating from the ebbing fire or from the burn of the dark liquor making its way through her system. She stuck to taking small sips of her glass of bourbon, feeling a strange guilt for drinking it in the first place.

As the only member of the Van Der Linde gang to have advanced medical knowledge it all fell on her to heal their various ailments. She often had just enough supplies to keep everyone afloat, but having the law after you constantly made it a challenge to get your hands on much needed medicine. So, she’d save what she could and turn to liquor as her medicine of choice, trying to save all the expensive tonics and remedies for the traumas that really needed it. Bill complaining of a back injury? Whiskey. The days that Hosea's cough seemed to worsen? Whiskey. Even using whiskey as a last ditch effort to warm John after his wolf attack. She always tried her best to stay out of her own medicinal stash of liquor, But, some nights she wanted the peace that came with the burn of whiskey. Tonight was one of those nights.

“Hey there, Miss Caroline.” Arthurs gruff voice breaks through the unusually silent night. The smell of the burning fire filled his nose as he got closer. He approaches her with a courteous nod, running a hand across his growing stubble.

“Mind if I join ya?” He removed his banged up hat, holding it close over his chest, a small sign of respect toward the lady that did go unnoticed by her. Rarely anything he did went unnoticed by her.

She smiled up at him with the warm smile she always wore, but something about it made him feel like that sweet smile was just for him everytime. Though he’d never let himself believe something as foolish as that. When she turned to look at him the shadows on her face stopped battling and the warm light of the fire covered her completely. From Arthurs vantage point it almost looked as if she was glowing.

“Please do.”

He moves as gently as he can for his size, taking his seat next to her on the old log the gang has fashioned into a bench. His usual confidence was tempered by something softer while next to her. His leg brushes against her knee, as he sits down, a reminder of how close you two are. The weight of his knee was pushing the scratchy material of her skirt against her leg and yet, she can’t bring herself to move her leg away from the tiny space they share. In the harsh life she's suddenly found herself thrown into, although by her own actions. She finds herself craving affection and touch more and more everyday. A gentle touch. Not a casual pat on the shoulder from Dutch or a clap on the back from Sean. Something with meaning behind it, with care and tenderness.

When Arthurs leg stays planted firmly, their knees barely brushing, her heart aches at the thought that the ever so tough man beside her may be feeling the same.

"you doin’ alright this evenin’, caroline?” He asks, his voice softer than usual. His eyes moved across her face, taking in the closeness and her warmth that he was now admiring up close.

“Im doin’ just fine. How ‘bout yourself?” Her sickeningly sweet southern accent hits his ears, making him unable to stop a smile from tugging at his lips.

“I’ve been worse.”

“Long day I take it?” She asks, sipping from her glass, not diverting her gaze from him. Her face takes on a concerned expression. He has to glance away from the look she gives him, deflecting his eyes to the fire. Something about the way she looked at him always seemed so soft and genuine. It turned him into a fool everytime.

“Ain’t they all.” He drawls, letting out a self deprecating chuckle.

Arthur stretches out his sore, muscled arms in front of him in an effort to work out the constant deep ache that his overworked body feels. His biceps flex through the thin material of his button up shirt, the material looking like it could give way any moment, unintentionally drawing Caroline's eye. Her heart speeds up as she takes another sip from her glass, doing her best to quiet her thoughts of him with liquor. A quiet, painful groan slips from his mouth at the movement. He closes his eyes and rolls his neck to try and soothe discomfort.

“Did’ya hurt yourself?” She asks swiftly, her voice filling with immediate concern. Arthur scolded himself, trying to push down the warmth he felt over her worrying for him. It was her job.

His eyes warmed at her concern, making her wonder if it was the pain or her that caused the change. She hoped it was the latter. “my shoulder just been actin’ up on me. nothin’ for you to fuss about.”

“Well, if ya keep throwin’ your weight around it ain’t never gon’ heal.” She laughed softly, shaking her head as if she was scolding the tough and hardened man beside her.

He made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a groan, hating to be reminded of how often he seemed to be caught in some violent altercation nowadays. He hated it more coming from Caroline, the sweetest woman he knows. He couldn't help but feel like she should loathe him and this life. That she should turn heel and run while she still had a chance at a good life. Maybe even being able to settle down with a rich man somewhere, raise a family. The things a woman like her should be able to do. Not running with a gang of criminals.

“It ain’t the “throwing my weight around,” He says chuckling, repeating her choice of wording. “I’m just gettin’ old”

“Oh, you are not gettin’ old you silly man!” She whacked his arm playfully, the sound making a weak thump because of her carefulness, taking extra precaution to hit his forearm and not his sore shoulder.

All he musters out is a small lighthearted scoff at her strike, which felt more like a love tap.

“It ain’t age! It's all that punchin’ you're doing.” A weak attempt at chastising him, but she's not able to keep the smile off her lips long enough. “And yes, I did hear about that fight at the saloon.”

He looked over at her and the way she clicked her tongue in disapproval. She was still wearing that same smile. He couldn’t help but chuckle when she raised her eyebrows at him, the expression playfully reprimanding him and silently telling him that she was owed an answer.

“Yeah, I guessed you would’ve heard about it. But, they were was askin’ for it.” He felt an odd sense of understanding when she didn’t disagree with him but instead laughed and shook her head affectionately. “I'm sure they was.” Maybe she didn’t see him and his life as horribly as he thought.

“I guess maybe I can be a hotheaded fool sometimes.” He spoke, berating himself under the appearance of a good humored joke.

“That you certainly can be.” She chuckled, with a warm grin. He heard no malice in her words.

The way Arthur sits with his shoulders hunched forward, It's obvious he’s tired, sore, and overworked. It breaks her heart, the way he does so much for others here just to end up sitting here aching internally and externally.

“C’mere,” She gestures to the dirt ground under her feet. “Let me see what I can do for ya.” the pleading in her voice sounds like this is just as much for her as it is for him.

He doesn't want to. Making her work for him? No, it should be the other way. For a girl like her, he should be spending every waking minute running around making sure she has everything she could possibly want.

Before he can turn down her offer, she snaps her fingers, pointing at the same spot. She won't allow him to put himself last this time.

“Yes ma’am” He chuckles at her unusual assertiveness.

She carefully lays her hand on his shoulder, as if she was checking to make sure he wouldn’t flee like a wild horse the moment he felt her touch. Once certain, she rolls the pad of her thumb over his sore muscle, taking great care to be gentle. Like there was something she cherished under hands. The fabric of his shirt moves along with the movement of her thumb, stopping her hands from being able to touch his skin.

His broad shoulders relax under her touch, goosebumps rising over his skin when she touches him so delicately. He’s grateful for the shirt covering him so she can’t feel the way his skin reacts so easily to her touch. His head hangs forward as he lets out a quiet groan of contentment, relishing in the feeling. Whether it's the feeling of the sore muscle being worked loose or the feeling of being cared for so sweetly he’s not so sure. She peers down at his face and sees his eyes flutter closed as she continues her soothing movement. Her eyes were stuck on his face as he relaxed for the first time.

The smile lines around his mouth made it obvious he wore a warm expression often no matter how tough he looked at a moment's glance. His aging eyes were developing small wrinkles on the outer corners from years of squinting in the sun and all the times his bountiful laugh trailed up to his eyes. He always smelled of tobacco and ash, even his scent exuded warmth if you're able to get close enough to notice.

Arthur Morgan, The man who could make statues talk. He didn’t look intimidating to her, he rarely ever did but, especially not in the vulnerable position she’s seeing him in now. In their closeness, she could see the way the longer pieces of his growing stubble had a small curl to them, The way he had a few tiny freckles across the bridge of his nose, presumably from being in the sun his whole life. She realized he didn’t look so sad for once, he looked peaceful. And she was the one making him feel that way.

“That helpin’ at all?” She asks quietly, close enough to him that he feels her breath against his ear.

He nods sleepily, angling his neck to the left to stretch the muscle she’s working on. With the more exposed area, she runs her thumb along his neck, landing just under his jaw bone. He lets out a low, content murmur to answer her. “Mhmm” With her hands on him, she can feel the vibration of his rumble throughout her.

“Alrigh’, jus’ relax.” She whispers, her calm voice mixing with the sound of the crackling fire and the waves of the bay lapping quietly.

He lets out quiet, low groans here and there. The rumble in his voice suggests the sound is emanating from somewhere deep in his chest. His head hangs in his calm state, being enveloped in warm light.

Although this was meant to help him, she could feel it soothing her as well. She craved tenderness so deeply that this moment felt like a relief from all the toughness around her. She wasn’t just offering gentleness, she was receiving it. Arthur trusted her touch and surrendered to it. In this intimate moment, he let her be gentle and soft. For now that’s what she needed.

Even though his hands weren't on her at all, she felt as though they may as well could've been.

“That should help it at least.” She feathers her massage off, now just gently running a soothing hand over the muscle. “I don’t wanna end up aggravatin’ it more.”

He rolls his neck as he stands back up, positioning himself on the log once more. “Felt real nice. Thank ya” She feels his hand pat against her knee, gently squeezing it. Her leg felt cold after the loss of contact, even through a layer of fabric. A chill goes through her entire body. She's grateful for the long skirt covering her legs so he can’t feel the goosebumps across them.

“Don't mention it.” She says dismissively, although her heart is hammering in her chest. She takes a sip from her glass hoping he’ll believe the alcohol is the reason for the redness washing over the apples of her cheeks. “Just glad it did ya some good.”

“You’re a damn fine nurse, Caroline” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, looking almost jovial in nature. He doesn’t look so tense anymore. His shoulders fall in a more relaxed manner and the fire casts long bronze shadows over him, creating contours on his face that give his usually piercing eyes a new kind of gentleness.

“Well thank you Mr. Morgan” She beams at him, happy that her work is noticed. Especially by him. She’s constantly half exhausted with all she does in camp, fixing every small ailment that anyone complains of. And yet, shes not bringing in money or doing “domestic chores” so, Grimshaw sees no worth in her. “I do my best to keep you boys alive.” She laughs.

He scoffs with a lighthearted chuckle at her calling him “Mr. Morgan” He turns his gaze to the fire, watching it dance for a few moments before his eyes flicker down to his hands, looking at them with distant thought. “We’d probably be in a lot worse shape without ya…”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She laughs bashfully. She’s never been one to accept a compliment easily. But, something about the sincerity his voice holds always manages to make her consider that it could be the truth. She laughs again, shaking her head as if she was physically shaking the thought out. “Now, any other ways you’ve gone and gotten yourself hurt that I should know about?” Her eyebrows raise playfully.

The same scoff leaves his mouth, along with a low chuckle. “No, nothin’ else. Not now at least.”

“Well stop goin’ and gettin’ yourself hurt and maybe it’ll stay that way.” A warm smile bloomed across her face. He couldn’t help but notice the way a small crinkle formed across the bridge of her nose when she laughed. The sight captivated him too much, she seemed almost holy to him.

“I’ll try. No promises” He said with a chuckle that sounded from deep within his chest. “But, I'll try for you.”

#rdr2 #rdr2 community #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fandom #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fanfic #rdr fanfiction #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfiction #fluff

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ko-fanatic · 6 months ago

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Leave All Your Love And Your Longing Behind | Chapter One: Double Vision Turning Triple

Rating: Teen and above Pairing: JayVik Characters: Jayce, Heimerdinger, Mel Medarda, Salo, Mylo, Claggor Content warnings: Vomit, References to Suicidal Thoughts/Actions, Very Minor Reference to Self Harm (blink and you'll miss it), Slight Well-Meaning Ableism, Co-Dependency, Anxiety, PTSD, Trauma Summary: Jayce gets spat out by the Arcane, again, after all was said and done. All he knows is that he needs to find Viktor. Things here are... very different. A/N: I’ve fudged ages a little bit to make the narrative a bit smoother for what I want to do. You can probably take that as the Arcane being weird, if you wish. And yes, Jayce is already irrevocably in love with Viktor as it’s post-series Jayce. You’ve heard of slow-burn, get ready for light-speed incineration. AO3 LINK

After what Jayce and Viktor believed would be the end, the first thing he could feel in the darkness was burning. From his stomach, a path scorched along this throat and out of his mouth, lungs seizing as he choked and coughed on viscous magma. For all its discomfort, it struck Jayce as familiar.

Unsettlingly, horrifyingly familiar.

He remembers his time in that other universe, how it felt to be hurtled through timelines and threads of everything that could, would and has been. How it had turned his stomach upside down and his thoughts to static, unable to focus for a good few minutes, at least. Then, he’d opened his eyes to that post-apocalyptic hell. The culmination of all the flesh and blood that’d spilled on Viktor’s path to… “evolution”. Hell.

However, rather than opening his eyes to blackened, twisted metal and death, what greeted him when he finally managed to pry open his eyelids was… a sunlit room. Granted, with a puddle of bile and whatever else that had managed to stay in his system during his not-so-merry jaunt through time and space, but it was still bright and warm.

Lifting his gaze, he could see a blue sky through an airy window, framed by white, gossamer curtains. A desk that was standard issue and groaning under the weight of books - notebooks and textbooks - schematics and blueprints. A neglected pot plant sat on a high shelf above, flowers shrivelled and leaves beginning to turn brown, but not quite dead yet. Something forboding beat in his chest, a little off-rhythm with his heartbeat, feeling like his guts were going to upend once more but pushing through the sensation.

There were three walls painted a pale cream colour, offset by one navy to make the place seem a little less devoid of personality, but Jayce knew where he - probably - was.

An Academy dorm room.

He’d, of course, had his own apartment during his time there, but he’d had acquaintances and classmates who’d lived there, and it was just so reminiscent.

The deduction was not at all aided by the uniform hanging from the wardrobe door.

So he was at the academy, in a dorm room that seemed to be his, despite having never roomed at the academy in his stay. The posters on the wall were just too… him for this not to be his room; sketches, his childhood drawing of himself with his hammer (which definitely didn’t leave an awful taste in his mouth), and various memorabilia from magic shows and the like. At least he knew that, brain leaking out of his ears or not.

Jayce stumbled to his feet, bracing himself on the wall as to not eat wood flooring soon after waking up.

“Jayce!” A too-familiar voice called as it knocked politely on the door, “Are you alright, my boy?”

Blinking away the double vision, knowing that it was best to open up and see what the Arcane had in store for him this time, he shuffled his way to the door and twisted the handle.

If it weren’t for his distinctive voice, Jayce wouldn’t have known it was Heimerdinger at the door. Not because he looked different at all, but because the short Yordle was fully eclipsed from view by a mountain of papers and books. In fact, Jayce had no idea how he’d managed to knock at all, let alone so politely.

A brief spark of a memory glitched through his consciousness. Viktor clutching boxes upon boxes of metal and gears, before he’d needed to switch his cane for a crutch, debating whether to “knock” (read: kick the door) with his good leg and be forced to balance on his bad, or vice versa.

He’d reminded Viktor that he could do it, and the other man genuinely hadn’t considered the idea before he’d said it. For a genius, he could be… Not stupid, never stupid, even in Arcane-tainted madness. He could be silly.

Jayce caught the pull at his lips and dragged himself back into this unfamiliar present.

“Uh… Fine! I’m… fine,” He attempted to assure, but he didn’t sound all that convincing. Evident when Heimerdinger dropped the stack he’d been carrying - with an impressive thump, one might add - and raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re usually up and about by now, and when you missed the first meeting on the agenda, I thought I’d come looking for you,” Heimerdinger explained, “Very unusual behaviour from you, my boy. If you’re ill, you only need to say and I can continue on for today.”

“Meeting…?”

Jayce ran a hand through his - much, much shorter - hair, scratched at his shadowed-but-not-bearded jaw a little, trying to catch up. Heimerdinger was treating him like…

“I can cope without my assistant for a day or two, Jayce, Godsend though you are,” A small, gloved hand reaching up to rest on his forearm in something so painfully fatherly and caring, “You’re pale, and you’re equilibrium and balance are obviously off. Take the day.”

“No!”

Jayce stopped himself in his tracks, coughing into his fist at the yell that came out unbidden. That probably didn’t help his case; the yelling or the embarrassed coughing.

“With respect, sir, I don’t need the day off, I’m fine,” He smiled, playing off the small piece of spoon-fed information he’d likely get, “My alarm clock didn’t go off, and I was disorientated from being woken up by your knocking. I’m very sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Heimerdinger looked him over, slowly, before sighing and nodding in a vague approximation of approval.

“Very well, I’ll wait for you to perform your morning ablutions and dress yourself for today. No need for the uniform, you’ll recall, as we’re mainly going to be off-campus today,” Heimerdinger reminded, as far as the older man knew.

Off-campus? So, presumably, that left supply shopping, personal errands, or council work. He should probably dress a little nicer, just in case…

Heimerdinger cleared his throat, Jayce snapping out of the trance enough to watch as the man unclipped a well-loved clipboard that had been fastened to his belt, and passed it over. An agenda. Helpful.

-*-*-

Working in a lab with Viktor meant that one learned to be as quick as possible when getting ready. Not because Viktor was mean, or demanding, but because of how excitable and surprisingly impatient he could be. Jayce was similar in that regard, the two of them often going days with only the basics of hygiene and self-care in favour of more planning, more theorising, not breaking their concentration for anything.

Viktor drank sweetmilk and ate a truly horrifying amount of sweet things - baked goods, chocolate, and every fruit that was in season. Jayce drank black coffee that Viktor had tried once and nearly spat straight out, making the most adorable “blegh” sound and sticking out his tongue once he managed to choke it down, looking far too much like a grumpy cat. A probably inappropriate joke likening it to self-harm was made, and Jayce snorted so hard he gave himself a nosebleed.

It’d probably been something to do with them both approaching the 100-hour mark without a wink of sleep. Still, it was a memory that he still held close, rose-hued and warm.

Walking alongside the professor down the expansive, winding hallways, he still had yet to see Viktor. Back to the academy days, strange universe or not, he was expecting to hear some comeback or quick wit, or spy a mop of unbrushed hair as he took a “surprise nap” on a desk or table somewhere.

He’d even been scanning the benches for his lanky frame, in case said “surprise nap” had taken him out in the hallway. No luck, however.

He was almost surprised by the amount of walking and the amount he was expected to carry. If he was Heimerdinger’s assistant also in this world, then maybe the man gave him a bigger, more physical share of the work. It hurt to imagine Viktor attempting to run around, trudging up and down the many staircases while his weak spine bent from the load he carried.

Another flash of his other life, Viktor’s eyes shying from his own, arms crossed uncomfortably as he talked about his journey from people-pleasing and too “accommodating” for his own good, to self-advocacy and willingness to protect his admittedly fragile health.

“Heimerdinger was very willing to support me, actually,” He’d chuckled, bathed in lamplight, a wicked twist of humour to his eyes, “At least, after I fell down the stairs.”

Swallowing hard, Jayce kept his head up, striding through the distortion as if there wasn’t any.

“I, uh… Suppose Viktor will meet us there?” Jayce ventured, deciding to try and prod a little more.

Heimerdinger, however, simply gave him a confused glance. “I don’t know, lad, I’ve no recollection of a Viktor,” He hummed, “A friend of yours?”

A friend of ours, he manages not to say, breath a little too short to work with, everything swimming again. Cracks and fissures sprung through his mind, a recollection of the lifetimes upon lifetimes that Viktor had found him in. Smiling lips and soft eyes… A lack of runestone bracelet.

“He’s… He’s the best student the academy has ever seen…” Was what he did say, unable to keep himself from divulging that, speaking a little too openly for a world he wasn’t meant to be in but hoping that might make Viktor… appear? Like Heimerdinger was… He didn’t know, doing a stupid prank? As if the man would.

“Jayce, there is no Viktor in the academy, as far as I’m aware,” Heimerdinger fiddled with the hem of his gloves, “And I would be aware of someone like that, if he managed to impress you so. Still, if your new little friend is that bright, he should certainly apply! I trust your judgement in these things.”

He hesitated, for a beat or two.

“Morality of lying about being a student to - presumably - talk to you aside, of course.”

Viktor… wasn’t here? Not a student of the academy, even? Because Heimerdinger would know Viktor, with the man’s voracious consummation of knowledge and his sheer intellect, Heimerdinger would have to notice that.

Did that mean that Viktor… Never got out? That he was still in the undercity, with poison in his lungs and pumping through his veins? That the violence and the dank still surrounded him, swallowing up his light?

That he could certainly be dead already, if that were the case.

He doubled over, books and papers dropped and scattered like debris and rubble, feeling like he’d been shoved off his feet, slammed into a wall.

His hammer dropping onto his leg, a mirror image to Viktor.

“A-Actually…” A big gulp of air as he tried not to vomit on the other man’s head, “Professor, I really don’t…”

“Feel well?”

Soft replaced sharp, Heimerdinger’s careful, nurturing tone somehow a little louder than the screams in his head.

“Go on, my boy, take a few days off, I can manage,” He assured, “I’ll pop by later, just to make sure you’re alright, but go rest and drink plenty of water.”

“I will.”

Barely ten minutes later, sprinting through the streets of Piltover and towards the bridge, Jayce couldn’t help but think that breaking promises was becoming an awful habit of his.

-*-*-

Heimerdinger could, despite all rumours to the contrary, get on perfectly well without Jayce. He had the agenda clipped to his belt as he had this morning, dropped the mountains of papers in his office, and had got himself to the meeting room with time to spare. He was glad that the perpetual over-worker had been persuaded to look after himself, even if he had to turn an alarming shade of green before he finally retired to bedrest.

However, Councillor Medarda was quick to point out the change of routine.

“Good morning, Professor,” She greeted with her typical smile and disarming humour, “I see you’ve lost your shadow this morning.”

“Yes, Jayce was quite unwell - I managed to shoo him off home,” He explains, taking his seat with a little effort.

Jayce only tried to pick him up once, but the memory still comes up occasionally when he has to hop up there. Awkward apologies and a puppy-ish will to help that just made him such an endearing person. This morning he was… off. Quiet, and sullen.

Perhaps he was missing this new friend he mentioned! A quick attachment, certainly, but that actually put another worry he’d had for his assistant to bed: his lack of close friends.

Jayce was certainly friendly with others, but the more Heimerdinger observed him, the more shallow the connections seemed. Far be it from him to badger his employee about such matters, but as he mentioned before - Jayce was endearing. He wanted the boy to be alright, and his overworking habits combined with few close social connections were worrying. As were other things.

“Jayce, my boy, what are you doing?”

“... Just people watching,” He’d said, eyes cast down over the balcony…

Yes, a friend was just what the doctor ordered! When Jayce was a little less dizzy and such, he could introduce the pair of them, perhaps! He’d be very interested to see the person who managed to captivate him so.

“Fellow council members,” Salo, of all people, began, expression grim, “We’ve uncovered yet more unsanctioned engineering work in the undercity, with the same graffiti as the others.”

Salo passed a handful of pictures to Hoskel, gesturing for him to look through then pass them along.

“This seems to have been a big project, requiring manpower and hours without interruption,” Salo continued, “Along miles of pipeline, as well as naturally occurring cracks in the rocks which lead lower. You are all aware of the system that was put in to migrate the factory fumes lower than the populated areas? Well, it seems our work didn’t meet someone’s standards.”

He spat the last word as if it were a curse, rolling his eyes and looking the most ticked off Heimerdinger had seen him… perhaps ever.

“The sketches being passed around are of the devices themselves, including the graffiti -”

“I believe the young ones call it a tag, Councillor Salo,” Heimerdinger very helpfully corrected, met only with a slight narrow of Salo’s eyes before the man carried on.

“Including the tag scrawled on them, but we also have a composite of a possible suspect, seen hobbling away from the scene by a witness.”

Heimerdinger accepted the pictures from Councillor Medarda with a nod of thanks, before parsing through them.

The sketches of the device itself was… lackluster, seemingly not done by someone with a scientific or engineering background, but even so, it’d be hard to discern specific functions without seeing one for himself, in person.

The copies of the tag were… odd. On one half was a crudely sketched, blue monkey, all big ears and separated jaw, a cartoonish, angry frown on its face. The other half was some sort of… reptilian creature in the same style. A lizard, or perhaps a salamander, in a green so pale it could have passed for white.

The composite wasn’t much to go by, a filtration mask covering half of the person’s face, but a few key details were available. A tousled mess of brown hair, interrupted with streaks of blue, red and purple; three piercings on each ear - one lobe and two cartilage, symmetrical; hazel eyes ringed with dark liner; a mole peaking out from the golden metal of his mask, beneath his right eye.

While they had nothing of his mouth, nose or jawline, it was… quite a few distinguishing features to go off. Which led to three avenues of thought: the suspect wasn’t smart enough to cover them up (unlikely), the suspect was just that cocky (more likely), or thirdly…

For some unfathomable reason, the boy wanted to be caught.

“Councillor Salo, you said the suspect was… hobbling?” Councillor Medarda inquired.

“Yes, he walks with a cane and a limp.”

-*-*-

Chest heaving, Jayce’s frantic running was finally halted, his lungs feeling fit to burst and legs weak with exhaustion. A blockade of people stretched in front of him, so dense he couldn’t pass without shoving. The need to just keep going was strong, almost reminiscent of the pull of the runestone in Viktor’s hand, his own clasped around like a lifeline.

“We’ll end this, together.”

He was about to start pushing through, when he took a second to actually observe the situation.

The undercity was bright, almost bustling, and not in any way it had been before. Clean streets, adequate lighting, air that was almost as fresh as above.

Nothing like the few stories Viktor had divulged, nothing like what he’d witnessed as a council member.

He then took stock of those around him, seeing… braces, wheelchairs, canes, crutches. If he started shoving his way through, he’d definitely hurt someone, and while some desperate, slathering part of him didn’t care…

“Excuse me!” He all but yelled, trying to duck and weave through any opening he could, just to get a little closer, just to possibly stumble across Viktor in the sea of metal and mobility aids. He needed to get closer, had to find him, had to -

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jayce’s momentum was stopped by… a scrawny teenager with a bad haircut. Firm on the ground for someone so lanky, squaring up his shoulders despite the general height and size difference between them, “Do you have a ticket?”

“Ticket?” Jayce echoed, trying to stamp down any instinct to just push the kid out of the way, “No, you don’t… I’m looking for someone, I need to see Viktor.”

“You and everyone here, bud, step out of the crowd for a minute.”

… What…?

Jayce barely reacted as he was redirected out of the throng, that floaty, spacey feeling returning once again. The double-vision turned triple, brighter streets fading into crystalline, white structures surrounded by flowers. People turned to disciples and followers, Viktor’s fingerprints shimmering on their faces -

“Y’know, you don’t look very disabled to me - OUCH!!”

Another boy, much stockier than the other, almost seemed to materialise out of the crowd to punch the first in the back of the head.

“What has Viktor told you about assuming, My?” The newcomer sighed, “Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” The scrawny kid huffed, hands held up in surrender, “He was pushing through, though, didn’t even know about the ticket system.”

“Did you tell him?”

Silence.

“Thought so,” The boy turned back to him, pushing the gear-patterned goggles from his eyes and resting them on top of his head, “Hey dude, my name’s Claggor, the dumbass is Mylo. We’re working security today. We have a ticket system instead of a line, so people can take breaks to sit down and rest, get something to eat and drink, that sort of stuff.”

“Oh… uh…” Jayce eloquently stuttered.

“Come on, I’ll show you where to go,” Claggor smiled, “Any assistance needed, just say. Cool?”

“... Sure…”

Jayce had to just… play it by ear, follow instructions. At least he wasn’t aimlessly running anymore, with no way to find Viktor. The other man had almost fallen into his lap, easy to find as soon as he crossed the bridge.

He would’ve just taken a ticket and waited patiently, as everyone else seemed to be doing, had he not actually… spotted Viktor as he was led to the small booth.

And time stood still for that moment, the rapid beating of his chest freezing like his heart had simply stopped.

Viktor was very different, visually. Brown hair highlighted with bright blues, purples and reds, his clothes so obviously Zaun that the sight instantly sent prickles down his back, piercings around his ears and tattoos trailing up his arm in swirls of dark ink.

Even with his back to him, however, Jayce knew it was him. From the cane by his side - covered in paint though it was - the foot of his good leg tapping to the beat of heavy drums and electric guitar blaring from a beaten-up speaker by his side, to how he soldered the plates of metal in that oh-so-familiar way. If he hadn’t been wearing a mask over his mouth and nose, Jayce was sure he’d see his partner’s tongue peaking out the side of his mouth.

It was so different, yet so similar that he moved on his own, magnetised, to his other half.

“Viktor!” He yelled as he slipped out of Claggor’s grip.

The familiarity ended, as this other Viktor chugged the ominously purple liquid in the cup beside his hand, used his good leg to push off, spinning around in his chair and grinning - not the soft, small smiles shared in the lab with the blue glow of hextech carving his cheekbones - but something more… manic…

Something almost like… Jinx.

“That’s me!” He all but sang, and Jayce could only collapse to his knees.

#arcane #jayvik #jayce talis #arcane jayce #arcane viktor #heimerdinger #mel medarda #arcane salo #leave all your love and your longing behind series

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itmeansiris · 9 months ago

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The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Answers Gen 1 pt.70

Takara's office was buzzing with enegry when M arrived. She stopped at the front desk instantly recongizing the long term receptionist.

M: Hi Renee. How have you been?

Renee: Mercury Hi! It's so nice to see you. It's been too long since you've come by. I'm good. How are you?

M smiled genuinely, she had always liked Renee. She was a sweet girl who you could usually find sketching. M had been honored to receive one of herself a few years back when Renee had been just an intern.

M: I'm good, thanks. I'm here to see Takara.

Renee: She's been waiting for you. She's just finishing up with a meeting. Do you want to wait in her office?

Before M could decline. Takara appeared.

Takara: Mercury.

Old fashioned but customary with Tomarang elders, M bowed when she greeted Takara.

M: Takara, hi.

Takara: Stop that M. You look tired.

Takara chastised her earnestly.

M: I didn't sleep well.

Takara: I can imagine. I saw the photos.

Mercury fidgets unable to quell her frayed nerves.

M: Yeah, I've seen them.

She responds dejectedly.

Takaras' demeanor softens. She sighed heavily and pulled Mercury in for a hug. M tightly embraced the middle-aged woman she had known all her adult life, drawing comfort from the contact.

Takara: Come.

They take the short walk to Takara's office. She takes a seat behind her desk but M stands.

Takara: Why didn't you call me as soon as you saw them?

M looked away slightly embarrassed by the whole ordeal. She had prayed that Takara was calling to discuss the book but had suspected otherwise.

M: Is this what you wanted to talk about?

Takara: Look. Who is this?

She turned around to inspect the photo on the screen and her temper flared.

M: Paris. How do you know her?

She practically hissed through clinched teeth.

Takara: I don't, but after I saw those photos I had my people do some digging. The images led back to this girl. She not only took them but was also the one who posted them from an anonymous page. Stupid girl doesn't know how to clean up behind herself. She didn't even get rid of the originals online properly. Guess she thought deleting them meant they were gone forever. How naive.

M: Okay. So Paris took the pictures. She's friends with Madison and Madison is seeing Kason. Are we all caught up? This doesn't change anything, He was still there. With her!

She could feel that anger she had been worried about rising, as she drew the conclusion that Takara was defending Kason.

Takara calmly responds.

Takara: Yes, he was there. With me.

M: With.. you?

Takara: Yes, with me.

Takara tapped a few keys and pulled up her emails. She scrolls for a while before stopping on an email thread that is addressed to Kason. She opened the email and scrolls to the top allowing M to read each email in its entirety. Then she opened a web browser and pulls up The Sims Daily from a week prior. In the Recent neighborhood stories section are images of Kason, Takara and Madison all at the cafe. Next to it was the usual celebrity sighting story of Takara and Husband of bestselling author Mercury Gratz eating at the local cafe.

M felt her world shift back into place. The relief she felt overwhelmed her and she went to take a seat, unsure her legs would continue to support her.

Takara: You see. Our little red-haired friend conveniently left yours truly out of the photos. Kason was helping Madison's club host an event, for you.

M: Why didn't he just tell me?

Takara: Me again. I swore him to secrecy.

M smiled to herself. She knew what it meant to be sworn to secrecy by Takara. It was like taking a blood oath.

Takara: Guess he took it pretty serious. Kid's got guts holding out like that when someone tried to take advantage. Shows how much faith he has in your trust in him.

The relief instantly turns to guilt. It plagued her mind with doubt and regret.

M: (Did I believe him? Will he forgive me? Does he hate me? I called him a liar. How could I be so ungrateful?)

M: And Madison?

She asked instead. Trying to stay focused. Takara shook her head dismissing the implied question.

Takara: Trust me when I say that Madison means you no harm. If she was after anyone it would have been you, M. I promise you, nothing is going on. I wanted to talk about your book deadline but maybe that's enough for today. Go home, kiss and make up with your husband and get some rest. That's and order.

Brindelton Dog Park (While M is meeting with Takara)

Kason arrived at the dog park 5 minutes early. He unleashed Comet and set him free. The clouds were dark and gray. They danced across the sky, teasing with the threat of rain. He pulled his coat tightly around him, the cold and cloudy day adding to his already somber mood. He took a seat on the bench and waited.

Madison: Hey Kason. I don't have much time. What's up?

He stood, his body ridged.

Kason: What the hell is this Madison?

He asked his voice nearly a growl.

Madison: ....Paris.

She spoke her friend's name with resignation. That alone was an admission of guilt. Madison had planned to tell Kason about her friendship with Paris back when she'd gotten that confusing note the night of their meeting. She'd had a bad feeling and figured it was best to come clean before Kason found out on his own. Unfortunately, she'd gotten caught up the next couple of days calling and video chatting with Beckett and it had slipped her mind. Now it was too late.

Kason: Yes. Paris. Care to tell me how you know her?

Madison dropped her chin to her chest, her eyes were downcast in shame.

Madison: Kason, I'm so sorry. I was going to tell you.

Kason: Tell me what Madison?!

He barked, unable to contain his frustration any longer.

Madison: The truth is I knew who you were the day we met. Paris is my best friend. She put me up to saying hello.

Madison: At first I was just going to say hello and leave. I wasn't interested in Paris's game. Then you told me you were married to Mercury and...

Kason: And what? You started a game all your own? Mercury saw those. She thinks something is going on between us.

He replied in an accusatory tone as his eyes filled with disappointment.

Madison: I'm sorry! I told Paris to leave you alone months ago. When she called you after her business trip. I never wanted any-

Kason: You Knew about me for that long? You're as bad as your sick friend. I can't believe I trusted you.

Kason shook his head and turned to leave. He stopped a few paces away and called over his shoulder.

Kason: I'll tell Takara the event is cancelled.

Then he whistled for Comet and left.

Previous Next

Beginning

Poses

@elen-shine Top secret & Male emotions

@starrysimsie on the line

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 story #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #gen 1 #itmeansiris #sims 4 romance #sims 4 lovestruck #Solar system legacy challenge #solar system legacy #Mercury Gratz #mercury generation

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princess-of-the-corner · 5 months ago

Note

One thing Ive always wondered is, in a P5xDeath Note setting, what would Light and L think of the PTs. Because they're like Kira as a criminal taking down criminals, except not in the murder way. And L doesn't have room to talk about their methods considering he also did some bad stuff to catch Kira. Its more of a shower thought than anything

Oh this would actually be FASCINATING

I do think..... it's been a While™ since I read all of Death Note so my exact grasp on them may be a little shaky but

I think Light would originally see the Phantom Thieves as comrades in arms of a sort. They're trying to circumvent a corrupt system that lets these criminals go free via making the criminals turn themselves in. Different methods, but they're both on the side of Justice.

There's three spots where Light's ideology and the P5 crew would differ and cause problems:

1.) the Punishment.

Light's acts with the Death Note is to just kill these bastards. This guarantees that a punishment is handed out. The Phantom Thieves may get their target to turn themselves in, but punishment for them depends entirely on the corrupt system that was protecting these people in the first place.

2.) Innocents/Law enforcement trying to stop them

Though the Phantom Thieves worry about the cops coming after them.... they don't really feel the need to go after any of the cops themselves. Hell in many ways they /can't/ because their Targets need to have a Palace. So they can't do something like what Light did with killing the entire FBI squad looking for him or the battle of wits with L.

Not that they would really want to. They seem a touch more aware of 'yeah we're doing something good but kinda sketch ofc the cops want us contained especially as we could easily kill people like a certain someone is doing already'

3.) Kira Himself

Given Light's whole thing was beginning as well-intentioned 'I'm gonna punish criminals that are getting away with crimes because the system sucks', ya boy took a trip on the slip n' slide right into a God Complex.

He's exactly the type of person the Phantom Thieves would target.

And anyone going against Light gets taken out.

Swinging over to L:

I think L would find them..... interesting.

Like yeah he doesn't have room to talk re: doing sketch as hell things to catch criminals. I think there's a little less gray areas since his actions are at least given the go-ahead via legal channels. So like, he had a warrant when he installed cameras everywhere.

But even so it certainly is sketch as hell.

I think the Magic aspect of it would have him fascinated and oddly more chill with it? Like the Phantom Thieves can only target people who have a Palace, which is in a way 'proof' of their crimes. So it's less 'playing judge, jury, and executioner' in the way Light/Kira does.

Though ofc not every person with a Palace is a criminal. It's based on warped perceptions not on crimes. But again they're just seeing that someone has a Palace and going in to deal with it. Not the same.

Especially as it's harder to nail down what the Phantom Theives actually do that's 'illegal'? Like there's no law against entering someone's mindscape. The item they steal isn't 'real'. They don't break the person's free will, just help them come to the realization themselves and they then of their own free will deal with the situation.

Yeah they /could/ kill someone through this but that's like arresting any rando on the street because they /could/ go up and stab someone.

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thewandererh · 29 days ago

Text

Ecosystem Hell rw au x Elemental Iterator Local Group!

i swear this is interesting chat. i’m really proud ‘o these sketches 🫶 and writing! i’m sprinkling in some character psyche too so oooo you wanna read this ooooo👻👻

so. @rna-world / tarigon’s au “where iterators become hybrids of rw creatures that fit them and then are forced to survive in the wacky wild as organisms” idea is cool. very cool. cool enough for me to have reblogged nearly all of it 3 weeks back. and now its coming back to me… oh goodness gracious

so!! in this post! i’m going to scribble down my thoughts on these barely-shared ocs of mine, and how they’d be integrated into which animal and survive in what way. exciting! LETTUCE BEGIN:

reblogs>likes

these are the first few i came up with! was in a little funk so i wasn’t proud of them at the time, but thats changed ^_^

DeeDee isn’t related to the group at all—his design was just a brainwave i needed to get out. but the others! oh boy the others:

Weaving Currents is a ghostlike fusion with the very overseer that lends him his voice. this body enables soundless stealth and camouflage through translucent flesh. i wanted to emulate the deep sea vibe he has goin for him, which was especially built upon with his redesign! Currents is tricky and slinky, working as the perfect assistant and spy in Shadows’ search for power. and his peculiar quest for one specific little “traitorous” guy.

Six Colorful Strings (behold, our timid protagonist!) is a blue lizard. she is fragile and agile and always carries a weapon. whatever sort of process she underwent to become this was prepared with haste, and she’s still getting used to the new systems. and this rapid change and cell death has her rot spiking in activity. now, since a risk of spread is now prominent through coughing fits, she has attempted a makeshift mask out of an old cloth scrap. i honestly wanted to emulate some of tarigon’s AGS-orangeliz vibes through Strings here because. hello? peak??

Seven Even Windy Cycles always wanted to fly away. the wish arose from past circumstances, but remained as a whimsical dream. his can is placed in the run-down suburbs of abandoned architecture that crawl with bugs and bats after his weather modules go…missing? perhaps it was the bugs and the bats that he likes to watch. (insert segue) so he got squidcada-beamed because i said so. there was a running sorta-vulture mask idea that made it halfway, but he’s so underdeveloped as a fella that i need to straighten a few things up first.

Broken Gears over Grinding Gravel is definitely the techhead here. integrated so heavily into his work that anything he’s not good at he’s just accepted as failure. and that’s not a good mindset to have in the wild, but who cares! he’s in the highchair now. and the two things he’s good at are self preserval and working his mech. Gears is a tired old father who tries to forget regret—especially the involvement he had with Shadows’ greed. little beast grew out of control. what was he supposed to do??

Deeper Darker Shadows is the main antagonist and a persistent one at that! with his quest to rejuvenate his disordered systems with other iterators’ rarefaction cells, and having succeeded multiple times thus far, he’s earned the status of something to be feared. however he’s the brains of the operation, not the brawn. especially with a recent development lending him a maw-like wound in his face. giving him all the more reason to seek power to overcome the hurt. with the hushed judgmental fear all around his name, he’d have to appear as something imposing in the wild—right? LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER. this man is a stinky younger brother who’s too self entitled for his own good. but his looming presence is like a shadow (heh) despite the hidden truth. so he also gets bugbeamed. jackass! hope he isn’t too stupid and gets himself killed. a second time.

below is even more character sketches for a select few that i’m extremely proud of. eat up folks!

if you enjoyed the concept of iterators surviving in the wild itself, i’d consider checking out tarigon’s incredible art and thoughts over on zeir blog! featuring both canon and iterator logs interpretations unlike anything i’ve ever seen. there’s a reason i reblogged it all so many times 😔/positive

#elementaliterator #ecoh #ei x ecoh #<< tarigon’s tag for ecosystem hell. i’ll remove it if asked #iterator oc #iterator #rw iterator #rain world iterator #pen&pencilparade #that is the longest goddamn roll of the thunder i have ever heard in my goddamn life #tell if you’d rather not be @ed tarigon! i did it to notify and link you but i’ll respect if that’s a no-go #rainworld iterator #ei-ecoh

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ya-zz · 2 years ago

Text

Merry Christmas

This was a thank you to @yore-donatsu for taking time out of her schedule to sketch some Ramattra stuff for me which I still adore and smile at each time I open my phone or log into my pc 😭

Thank you again, and I hope you have a wonderful Christmas!

~~~

Ramattra x reader (gen)

Word count: 4715

The sun was beginning to set over the village in Nepal, and the sky’s ablaze with color; warm oranges and reds peek over the mountains as the night fades in. The air is crisp and cold, and the stars are beginning to twinkle in the dark abyss that’s approaching quickly. It’s a peaceful and serene night without many disturbances. The stars shine brightly in the sky, and the moon casts its silvery light over the village.

The winter evenings in the Nepal village are a time for rest and relaxation whilst the monks in the monastery gather together to prepare a small event as they talk about their day, tell stories, and laugh together. The evenings are a time to forget about the stresses of life and to simply enjoy the company of loved ones.

Whilst the village below was bustling with life, the monastery just as vibrant and while many of them did not celebrate the idea of Christmas, they were happy to indulge those who were. Decorations were drawn up, holly and tinsel lining the walls and in the main entrance way stood tall a tree littered with baubles and ornaments that were gifted from the villagers.

Candles were lit, illuminating every dark area inside, somehow never going out despite the wintry breezes that pass by. The stone floor was icy, human feet would freeze should they walk on it. The omnics could feel the cold, but it wasn’t detrimental to their systems so they didn’t mind, however they would always ensure that any human that visits would wear shoes to protect their feet at this time of year.

The monastery was warm, certain rooms warmer than others and one of which was your room. With the fire on and the snow falling outside, it looked like a scene out of a movie. Bundled up on the chair beside the fire, you sat there with your mind focussed on your work. There were exactly six days before Christmas Day, six days before the monastery held that small gathering between the monks and of course, you were invited among the group.

For once, you felt like you belonged. They were always there when you needed support, a shoulder to cry on or even just a friendly chat in the morning or evening. Someone was always there for you.

One omnic more than others.

Although… you hadn’t seen him for a few days and that worry was growing with each passing day. Ramattra had been out of the monastery, whether he was avoiding the holidays, the monks or you, it was a thought that constantly crossed your mind.

All you could do was help the monks prepare, lending a hand when they needed it and accepting theirs when you needed it. You were doing what you could to take your mind away from the missing omnic. The atmosphere was warm and friendly, something that reminded you of home; being a child and helping decorate the tree, running around the stores with your parents getting the last minute gifts, accidentally smashing a bauble but the spirits were high that you didn’t get yelled at.

If only you knew what Ramattra was doing and where he was. It wasn’t like him to wander off without a reason, especially without telling you his plans. Ever since you grew close to the omnic, Ramattra would talk to you almost every day and he’d tell you his schedule should it conflict with yours.

Looking out of the window, you sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around your body. The clouds were growing thicker, a storm was approaching.

It wasn’t his first Christmas, definitely wasn’t his last, but this year it was different for him.

He didn’t want to tell you what he was doing, he made sure nobody knew. It was a surprise, and he was making sure that there were no obstacles in the way of his plan. So far, everything was going smoothly.

As the snow continued to fall, covering the villages of Nepal in a thick blanket that only grew within the coming hours, Ramattra began his return to the monastery. He was two days travel away, but with the constant snowfall, he knew it was going to take longer.

Ramattra had to plan accordingly. His model wasn’t necessarily made for wandering in deep snow, he figured that out the hard way a few years prior. His cooling was verging on freezing, system error coming up critical. He was lucky to have made it back inside before the worst had happened and he shut off.

By his calculations, he had three hours before his cooling completely freezes, he had to be somewhere warm before those three hours were up and while he had his cowl to keep him warm, the cold still pierced through to his chassis which in turn began to lock up his joints.

His monk robes clung to him, wet and freezing as he started his walk back, staff in hand to help him move up the cobbled roads. Ramattra passed several humans, each wrapped up warm with coats, hats and scarves, gloves protecting their fragile hands. He looks down at the bag he was carrying, hoping that what he had picked out for you was correct in size, but also something you would wear with pride, something you would love because he got it for you.

A gift, for you.

Ramattra had never bought a gift for anyone in his life, but you were someone special, someone who he held close to his circuits. You wandered into his life and he had never once regretted it. Despite some misunderstandings and debates, you are one he doesn’t want to lose.

He would protect you. Though his disregard and hatred is high for the human species, you were the exception. Ramattra would make sure you were happy, that you were healthy. He would make sure you were safe, no matter the cost. Should he be decommissioned against his will, he would hope and pray to the Iris that you were safe.

He pauses in thought for a moment, optics looking ahead yet not looking at anything in particular. His system alerts him, cutting his thought short.

[ WEATHER WARNING. SEVERE SNOW STORM ]

The omnic looks up to the sky, now noticing how dark it had become since he started his travel. His hand twitches around his staff as he looks back down and continues to walk along the road, the snow getting heavier, thicker with every passing minute.

He was close to the village edge and the moment he decides to walk past those stone pillars, there is no protection from the cold, no shelter until the next village which was under three hours away by foot.

Ramattra sighs, entering a small inn and paying for a room for the night, the omnic innkeeper escorting Ramattra to his room. It was too risky to go out when a storm was coming. He sits down on the bed and stares out of the window as his processors work to figure out a new plan should the storm last too long.

He looks down at the bag, servos tracing the metal pad on the back of his hand. For once, the omnic was nervous, worried that he may not make it back to the monastery in time.

Ever so slowly, his plan started falling apart.

—

Commotion could be heard all throughout the monastery as the monks rushed around to cover up the windows to keep the heat in, but also to protect themselves and everything inside from the harshness of the storm.

The clanking of feet outside of your door startles you before it fades off, the monks rushing past your room as they keep working. Meanwhile, you stay seated, bundled up warm beside the fire that heated your cheeks. You were too comfortable, too cosy to move in fact.

Your room was warm despite the open window where thoughts escaped from and where worries left. However, the warm room felt lonely without Ramattra seated in front of you on the floor. Hands craved to be tangled in his cabled hair whilst he meditates before they slip down and tilt his head back so you could smile down at him, reassuring him that you cared and that he was safe with you.

The fire burns your eyes as you stare into it, cheeks hot as you wonder where Ramattra was. Something wasn’t right but you couldn’t quite place it but as the storm continues, winds howling outside and snow sticking to everything it touches, you could only fear the worse. He was out there.

You had two options; wait it out and hope that he got home to you safely, or venture out there in hopes to find him… but that came with great risk to your life. You’d have to plan accordingly, know where shelter is, know where he had gone. One plan you could do easily was the travel; there’s inns dotted around the village, many didn’t require payment to stay if you’re sheltering in the main living area, but the second part, finding where Ramattra went, was the tricky part.

He never said he was leaving. Never mentioned it to you or any of the other monks. One hour he was there and then the next he was nowhere to be seen. One monk pointed out that he had left through the main door, everyone including you, assuming he was going down to the village to visit the library or pick up some parts for his projects that he was tinkering with.

But then that begs the question; why didn’t he ask you to come with him?

Ramattra would always come to you first and ask if you wanted to join him on a small trip to the village, a walk in the garden, join him in meditation or even just sitting in silence in the small monastery library. You were the first to come to mind and system with him. You were the one whom he wanted to spend time with. You were special to him.

A human and a ravager - an unlikely and blossoming friendship.

Turning your gaze back to the window, tears pricking your eyes from staring too long into the fire, you let out a shaky sigh as you watch the snow fall in large clumps. You think about venturing out there to find the missing omnic, but then that means risking your life. The storm had claimed many lives in the past, human and omnic alike. Even those fully prepared don’t make it to their destination without careful and precise planning.

“Where are you, Ramattra…?” You sigh, holding your mug a little tighter, feeling the slight tingle as it burns your palms. “Please be safe…”

…

Three days had passed and there was still no sign on the missing omnic. Many of the monks were getting concerned, others were still prepping for the event in three days.

You had gathered what you could, layered on several shirts and coats, the thickest pants and socks you could find and the winter boots you were gifted earlier on in the year by another monk. Your hat, scarf and gloves were snug, keeping your fragile hands and ears warm as you ventured out into the icy weather, the storm still strong as it battered your cheeks.

The backpack was heavy on your back, as you tread carefully down the slippery monastery steps. Everything was telling you to head back, to go back inside where it was warm and safe, where your life wouldn’t be on the line.

All you were hoping was that Ramattra was safe, that he hadn’t succumbed to the harsh winter storm, buried under several feet of snow. The thought makes you shiver.

“Please be okay…”

You repeated the same three words over the last three days; when you woke up to an empty sofa, when you stared at the water in the cup before drinking it, when you showered and spaced out thinking the worst. He was the first thought when you woke up and the last one before you went to bed.

“Ramattra…”

Your quiet pleads were silenced by the wind as you stumble outside of the monastery walls and out of the first village after hearing that Ramattra was not here. There was no going back now, there were four hours of walking to go before you’d reach the next village. It would usually be a lot quicker, an hour and half at most but with the snow making the terrain uneven and unsafe, it added more time.

The snow continued to batter your body as you tread carefully along the edge of what you assumed was the path, following the walls and rope that travelled between the villages for this very purpose. A guide for travellers to follow.

A guide for you to find Ramattra.

Meanwhile, he was preparing to leave the second village, bag and staff in hand as he set the timer within his HUD the moment he stepped out of the door and into the harsh cold. His system was on high alert, the temperature below freezing as he started his walk into the white abyss.

The snow didn’t seem to let up at all, constantly falling and covering his shoulders and hooded head with a thin, sparkly sheet. He needed to get back and soon, this specific road was longer than the previous one and the longer he stayed outside, the riskier it was for the omnic. While the snow continued to fall, it was a miracle it never went any higher up his metal calves. The sun was still warm, slowly melting the top most layers.

His staff sunk deep into the snow, piercing holes that only filled up within minutes and his treadmarks that followed behind him followed the same agonising pattern. Left, right, left, right, and the only colour that surrounded him was white and grey with the occasional beige rope and grey brick. Monotone. Dull. He’d much rather be back within the confines of the monastery, back within your hold, soft hands caressing his frame and settling his mind. He needs the colour back…

He needs you.

Far off in the distance, his systems pick up faint movement. Something was approaching him slowly and no matter how hard he tried to single the entity out, the snow was too thick and continued to get in the way.

Ramattra deemed it another traveller, but then wondered why someone would be venturing out at this time knowing how bad the weather was.

It wasn’t until he got closer that he realised who it was. His systems went into overdrive as he heats up, rushing over with panic rising within his wires.

“[y/n]!” His hand drops the staff into the snow and reaches for your face, lifting your head up to face him. “What are you doing out here?” His tone was full of worry and concern. He notices how cold your body is despite the several layers you have on. “You are freezing!”

Through slurred and chattered words, you speak quietly to him. “Came to find you.”

Though touched, Ramattra shakes his head, turning to pick up his staff before looking back at you. “Your concern touches me, but you could hurt yourself.”

“Was worried.”

Ramattra notices the lack of words and takes another look at you, seeing the flushed cheeks and blue lips. Placing his staff in his other hand, he pulls back your hat and sees how red your ears are. His system flares up, warning him that frostbite had begun setting in for you.

“We need to get you back. Now.” There was urgency in his voice as he covers your ear back up. “Can you walk?”

You stare at him, your own head trying to process his words.

He sighs, dropping the bag and staff back into the snow as he takes off his cowl and draping it over your shoulders, pulling the hood over your head. He turns and kneels, allowing you to climb onto his back to which you do without questioning him. Before he stands, he grabs the bag and staff, hooking the bag into the crook of his arm and carrying the staff in his hand once more.

Before he starts walking, he slowly heats his back up and runs through several different plans on how to conserve what power he has remaining in order to get back to the monastery without too much damage.

There was roughly an hour left of the journey, however, with you on his back and the added weight of the clothes and whatever was in your backpack, he estimates another half an hour at a steady pace. I am pushing it… he thinks to himself, beginning the walk.

“Where did you go?” You mumble into his back.

“I had an errand I needed to run.” He states, the grip on your thighs was tight as he keeps you from falling from his back. He feels you nod and hum. “You are a fool.”

“I know.”

“Something could have happened to you.”

“I know.”

“This is serious. Your body isn’t made for these harsh climates. You should have stayed at the monastery.”

“I was worried.” You tighten your grip around his neck, feeling the warmth seep though your clothing from his back.

“You are making me worried right now. You have frostbite.” He sighs, trying to keep his pace fast.

You smile, nuzzling your head into his back, the cowl covering your face from the snow. “It’s nice to know you care.”

Ramattra squeezes your thigh once. “I have always cared about your wellbeing.”

“Liar.”

He chuckles. “Okay, maybe not all of the time, but more so since we got closer.”

“You’re nice when you’re soft.”

“I am not soft.”

…

The walk back to the monastery was slow, Ramattra having to make a quick stop in one of the local stores to pick up some hot tea for your hands to hold on the rest of the journey. He stayed silent, not muttering a word to you about where he had been and what he had been up to, and that irked you somewhat. After risking your life to look for him, you had hoped he’d be a little more forthcoming with his whereabouts.

When you two had arrived at the monastery, finally safe within the confines of the stone walls, the monks inside were relieved to see that the pair of you were okay. One monk handed you a hot drink after taking the other empty cup from your hands, whilst another was quick to pull you towards the nearby fire to warm up.

Ramattra watched on, a comforting feeling coursing within his wires as he realised just how much your presence meant to the others. He tilts his head towards you and if he could smile, he would be doing just that.

By the time the evening came around, the pair of you had wandered back to your shared living quarters, finally stripped free of the outdoor clothing. He sat with you, the usual spot of him on the floor and you sat behind him on the sofa. He let you keep wearing his cowl, marvelling in the way it made you look and bundled up in something he loved to wear made him feel warmer.

“I was worried about you.” You finally broke the silence you shared, hands tangled within his cabled hair.

“So you have said.” He chuckles. “You did not need to come looking for me.”

“What if you never made it back?”

“You do not need to worry about that. I planned accordingly.” He states.

“But-”

“I am here now, am I not?” He tilts his head up to look up at you. “Your concern for me is appreciated, but you did not need to risk your life.”

“I would risk everything just to make sure you were okay.” You smile down, thumb brushing the white faceplate of his. “Christmas wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“It is our first Christmas.” Ramattra shifts his optics, looking at the soft glow of the fire within your eyes.

“One of many, I would hope.” You could feel his head get a little heavier as he leans into your hands. You continue to speak, voice soft and loving. “I wish you would’ve said you were leaving. Everyone was worried about you.”

“I will remember that for next time, but as I said-”

“I do not need to worry.” You laugh, badly mimicking him.

Ramattra chuckles before looking forward again, the fire warming up his faceplate as he goes back to a meditative state.

“Are you charging again?” You whisper, pulling his cowl up around your arms.

“Yes.”

“How long do you have left?”

“Two days.”

“Why is it so long?”

“I have been in and out of this state for the last four days.” He states, fingers twitching on his lap. “I… May have dropped to below ten percent.”

“Ramattra!”

…

The omnic was in and out of conversation during the two days he was charging, but those two days lasted longer than either of you had wanted. Christmas morning came around and Ramattra was still sitting there on the floor.

The fire had been put out and relit several times over. Your hands stroked his wires while you sat there in silence, listening to the hum of his inner workings; and even now as you sat on the sofa in the exact same spot, Ramattra was still motionless on the floor.

Part of you worried, but the occasional twitch of his servos was all the indication you needed that he was still here.

He finally woke up in the early afternoon. His hands flexed before his fans picked up speed slightly which startled you out of the small nap you had fallen into. The room was a comfortable warm, dangerous even, as it pulled you under for the last hour.

“You’re awake.” You say, voice quiet as you sit up.

“So are you.” Ramattra chuckles. “My charge is finally complete.”

“I’m glad.” You reach up to him, pressing your forehead against his. “You were gone longer than two days.”

“I am sorry.” His own hands come up your jaw, pulling you in a little closer.

“You babble omnicode a lot.”

“I do?” He tilts his head in questioning.

You smile, letting out an airy laugh. “Yes. It’s quite funny.”

“I am glad you find humour in that.”

He doesn’t let go of you as he pulls his face back. “You are still wearing that.”

You look down at the cowl still draped around your shoulders. “Yes… It smells like you.”

He chuckles. “Keep it. It looks good on you.”

As you look up at him, Ramattra admires the way your face lights up before finally dropping his hands.

“And, I have this for you.” He steps away, heading for the bag that he had placed at the foot of the bed when he entered the room those two and a half days ago. He returns, handing the bag to you.

“Ramattra…” You look down at the bag and then back at him. “You really didn’t have to go out of your way-”

“I insist. It is the holidays after all.” He gestures for you to sit down on the sofa and sits besides you when you do.

He watches you, optics shifting their aperture as the fire flickers. When you pull out a soft sweater, carefully knit in your favourite colour, your cheeks heat up and not from the fire.

“Rama…” Your voice was gentle as you feel the knitted garment, fingers tracing over the soft fabric.

“I do hope it fits. I had to guess.” He admits, looking down at his hands.

You smile, tugging off the cowl and pulling on the sweater. The sleeves were long, bunching at the wrists. It was a size too big, but in the cold weather, it was perfect for snuggling up into. Straightening the fabric on the front of your body, you look back at him, a warm flush on your cheeks.

“I love it!” Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into an embrace.

His arms come up, hands caressing your back.

“I do hope it keeps you warm, even in the harshest of winters.” He mumbles into your neck.

“You went out of your way to get me this…” Tears prick your eyes. “You remembered.”

He chuckles. “It is hard for me to forget. We were walking through that village five months ago when you saw it in the window. There… Is also something else.” Ramattra feels you pull back and then look at him with confusion.

“Something else?”

“Yes.” He pulls you off of him and grabs the bag, pulling out a small box and handing it to you. “I… Had this one personally made.”

“What-” The shock was evident on your face as you stare at him. “Ramattra-”

He hushes you, holding onto your hips as he watches you open the box.

“Ramattra…” Your tone softens as your fingers touch the small necklace that sits in the cushioned box. “This is…”

“Merry Christmas, [y/n].” His thumbs gentle rub the sides of your body as he keeps his grasp on you.

“Thank you…”

“Anything for you, my dear.” He trails his hands up your sides before resting his palms on your jawline, pulling you in as he taps his forehead against yours.

“Promise me one thing?” You ask, placing the box down and holding onto the golden metal of his jaw, thumbs caressing it slowly.

“That highly depends on what that promise is.” He jests, moving his hands back down your body and squeezing your sides.

“Please tell me the next time you might be gone for a few days…”

Ramattra leans further into you, thumbs pressing into you. “You are insufferable. I promise.”

You laugh, tilting your head up and pressing your lips against the centre of his faceplate. “Thank you.”

His fans pick up, humming quietly in the silent room.

“Are you blushing?”

“Would you consider this blushing?” He tilts his head before looking away.

The smile on your face makes him turn away further. “You are blushing.”

His grip gets a little tighter which causes you to laugh more only for him to pull you flush against his chest.

“Ramattra!” Through the giggle fit, you wrap your arms around him, feeling his body vibrate as his inner workings get louder and faster.

He only chuckles in response, body warming up with every passing second you stay with him.

“[y/n]...” His vocaliser softens, optics staring out of the window as the snow falls outside.

You hum, slowly relaxing against him. “Yeah?”

Ramattra hesitates before speaking. “I love you.”

He feels you tighten your grip on his back and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. The sweater feels soft and warm in his hands as he rubs up and down your back.

“I love you too.”

You stay in his hold for a little while longer, revelling in the warmth he was emanating. Hands dipping in and over the metal braces that lined his chest and back. His body hums quietly alongside the fire and your breathing.

“Perhaps we should show ourselves to the other monks.” He tries to pull away but when you hold him just a little bit tighter, he stops talking altogether.

“They can wait a little longer…” Softly spoken by you, Ramattra chuckles in response, pushing you further into his chest.

He goes to speak but nothing comes close to the amount of love and comfort he was feeling.

Your breathing slows, body relaxing against him. “If this is how we spend this Christmas, I hope we spend the others like this too.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Just… Without the whole running off into a storm thing.” You laugh, leaning back and looking up at him.

“Your persistence about that issue continues to astound me.” He tilts his head to the side, hand coming up to caress your cheek to which you lean into.

“I love you, Ramattra. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas. I love you, [y/n].”

—

KOFI

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