#my wife...... (gender neutral)

[unoislazy]

For Me?

Vi x Piltover! Reader

Vi deserves the world and a partner that cares about her. Being from Zaun comes with its insecurities when being with someone from Piltover. Luckily, you know exactly how to counter them.

A/N: You guys wont have to worry about that much angst from me for a while, I need to cope from act 3 by giving Vi the best life possible and all the fluff imaginable because oh my god??

There were times when you’d think back to when and how you and your girlfriend met for the first time. Such a chance of it happening was very slim given you two belonged to two different cities, you Piltover, her Zaun. You never thought the girl who rammed into you after fleeing from an explosion from an unauthorized lab would one day come back into your life. 

The story of your reunion however was quite the convoluted one. Once again, a meeting set by nothing but pure fate and chance. 

You weren’t supposed to be at Zaun at the time. In fact, you weren’t supposed to be in Zaun at all. You went on your own, against your family's wishes, for the sake of immersing yourself in a culture that is not your own. You were raised to believe that the people of the undercity were monsters, the filth under Piltover's feet, nothing more than animals. It never felt right to you, there had to be more to it. After all, they were people too.

So, you went to see for yourself how awful these “animals” really were. 

You knew better than to walk in expecting everything to be rainbows and unicorns, but you refused to let go of your optimism as you traveled around the labyrinth like maze of streets and alleyways. 

It wasn’t until the smell of a peculiar type of food filled your senses. 

You didn’t know what it was, it was very different from anything you had ever tried before, so you decided to check it out.  

Once there, you were greeted by a fairly jolly fish-like man with a large smile. He laughed heartily, gesturing for you to take a seat and gave you a list of things to choose from. There were so many options, you had no idea where to start, and it wasn’t until you heard someone else set directly beside you did you finally have an idea. 

You looked to your left and were quickly met with a head of bright pink hair. Quite a unique shade which you could’ve sworn you’d seen before, but you brushed the thought off. There were probably plenty of people with the same hair color, besides if there’s one thing you knew not to do in Zaun, it was to stare. 

You heard one of them, a woman, order something specific off of the fish man’s list, whom she referred to as Jericho. He happily took her order before turning to her friend who denied wanting anything, and then turning back to you. 

“I’ll have the same.” You said with a polite smile. Jericho nodded before turning around and getting right to work. As you waited, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the girl next to you once again, there was something familiar about her despite her back being turned to you for the most part. 

That was until her friend noticed you staring and began to pull her hood over her eyes which grabbed the pink haired girl's attention. She quickly turned around to face you with an angered look on her face, clearly ready to fight if need be.

“Can I help y-“ She began, but before she could finish it finally clicked with you. 

“You’re the girl.” You whispered, having not realized that maybe saying that to a girl who looked, for lack of a better phrase, like she could rock your shit, probably was not a good idea.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, clearly confused, but still clearly not happy about your interruption.

“That girl, from the explosion, that was you.” 

Her reaction to your realization was less than friendly, and you couldn’t blame her. You hadn’t known at the time but she had just gotten out of jail for that same crime. She didn’t know who you were, she didn’t know what you wanted, and she didn’t want to involve herself with more pilties than she needed. 

And yet despite everything, here she was, now living with you on her days when she wasn’t in Zaun. You had quite the rocky start in the beginning but you became useful to her quest for her sister, and the more time you spent with her, the closer you two got. At first she was a bit standoffish, not believing someone from topside was capable of showing so much empathy, if any. Yet somehow you proved her wrong. You chipped away at that stone wall she built around her heart all those years away in prison and became one of the few things she coveted most. 

You two didn’t live together all the time, but your house was always open to her as you had now managed to move away from your parents. You knew Vi could never stay topside for too long, and you’d never ask her to do such. So there were a few days here and there where she would stay with you, then go back to the undercity to continue to help out, then come back up with you.

Now today was the day for Vi to come back, so you decided to surprise her to the best of your ability with the dish she got from Jericho the day you two met once again. It was quite a feat that required you to go to the undercity a fair amount of times to visit Jericho and ask for help. Luckily the sweet man was more than happy to let you in on a few of his trade secrets for the sake of a thoughtful gift. 

You weren’t the biggest fan of this type of food, you’ve tried it on more than one occasion, but it very clearly wasn’t for you. 

But it was what Vi liked so that was enough. 

As you continued to cook, you heard your door open, without even needing to look you knew it was your partner walking through the door.

“Welcome back.” You greeted warmly. 

Just then, You felt two hands wriggle around your waist before the weight of her head rested on your shoulder. She tilted her head slightly, her face now moving towards your neck, enough for you to feel the light feeling of her breath wafting over your neck. 

You ignored the feeling to the best of your ability but you couldn’t ignore the small smile that made its way to your face, this of course didn’t go unnoticed by Vi as she mumbled against your neck, 

“What are you making?” She asked, pressing her body a bit more into yours. She had a tendency to be clingy after being away for long periods of time, which you didn’t mind. 

“Something new. Just got the recipe, I think you’ll like it.” You said with a smile, which earned a short chuckle from your girlfriend who turned to begin peppering light kisses against your neck.

“If it’s made by you Sunshine, of course I will.” She said sweetly, despite the fact she was trying to ‘discreetly’ distract you. It wasn’t actually very discreet but she thought it was and you weren’t going to correct her.

“It smells familiar.” She said quietly after pausing for a moment to look back over your shoulder.

“Means I’m doing something right then.” You said happily, glad that it was going well. Her confirmation that she at the very least was beginning to recognize it was enough to motivate you to continue. However despite your motivation it was clear your girlfriend still had other plans in mind. 

Her hands slowly began to move their way up from your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as her face remained by your neck. 

“Can I at least finish the food first?” You asked with a laugh as your left hand went up to lightly brush against Vi’s face, acknowledging what she was trying to do. 

She once again mumbled quietly against you before finally pulling away. 

“Fine.” She said with an overly dramatic sigh before continuing, 

“You’re no fun.” She teased as her hands slowly, reluctantly, left your sides as she moved to the counter next to the stove you were using to cook. She leaned the back of her waist against it, her arms crossed in front of her chest, as she looked at you with a look you could only describe as a lighthearted pout.

“Save that for later you just got back. You have to eat first.” You said in a somewhat stern manner, not looking away from the food cooking in front of you. 

“Who says I can’t have a bit of dessert first?” 

“Vi!” You exclaimed as you walked her softly with a cloth that you had placed by the stove. She laughed, a full genuine laugh, which she felt like she could only do near you. You were the only one to really bring it out of her at this point. 

“Just… go sit down, the food is almost done.” You instructed, turning back to the food as she chuckled once again before walking back towards you. Her hand made its way back to your waist once again as she leaned towards your ear,

“Can’t wait.” She whispered cheekily before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and walking towards the dining room. 

You, being from a family who had lived in Piltover for quite some time, were able to afford a house with multiple furnished rooms with ease. It always threw Vi off just the slightest bit, the difference in what the two of you grew up with. It got to her more than she’d like to admit. A few times she believed herself to be holding you back, you came from a life of glittering buildings, and she came from nothing but metal scraps. 

You were so different and yet you always managed to remind her that it didn’t matter. She loved you for you and you loved her for her, wherever you came from had no effect on that.

Vi sat down in one of the few chairs in your dining room, looking around at the paintings that littered the walls, her previous thoughts remaining on her mind before she was interrupted by a plate of food entering her view and landing in front of her.

“Tada!” You exclaimed into the silent room, the only other sound being that of the plate lightly hitting the table. Vi sat in silence for a moment as she looked down at the food before her, it took her a moment before she recognized it.

“Wait. Did you-“ She began to ask.

“Find the recipe to your favorite dish from your favorite food stand? Maybe.” You responded with a proud smile as you sat down in the chair next to her, eager to have her try it. 

“How did you get the stuff for it?”

“Well, I visited a friend.” You said with a shrug. Vi looked towards you, her eyes wide with shock. As each moment passed she realized just how much effort went into this one dish.

“You hate this kind of stuff, why would you-“

“Cause I know you like it and I wanted to make it for you.” You said simply as you placed your hand atop hers.

Suddenly Vi couldn’t think of a response. Her sudden silence worried you almost, was she mad? Was she upset at you? 

You then looked at her eyes and watched as they softened, the powder blue irises glistened as water lightly began to form in them.

“Holy shit.” She said quietly, entirely taken aback as she sat back in her chair. For someone with such a tough exterior you could see the walls slightly begin to crack as she looked down at the food before her. It meant more than the world to her that you had put so much effort into something she liked, for her, and for no other reason. 

Just because you cared.

It had been a long time since Vi had been truly reminded she was loved. Just having such a simple yet, such a powerful reminder in the middle of nowhere by the one person she truly loved was almost disorienting. You went out of your way to get ingredients you couldn't get easily in Piltover, a recipe you had to go to a specific stand for, her favorite stand no less, and then put it all together?

“Vi?” You asked quietly, your other hand going up the cup to her face so she would look at you a bit more as you looked at her with a bit of concern. You didn’t expect such an emotional reaction from your gesture that you were worried you had done something wrong.

“Are you o-”

Before you could finish your question, Vi had turned to you quickly and engulfed you in a hug. This took you completely by surprise. In the time that you and Vi had been together, more often than not when it came to specifically hugging, you were the one to initiate. She just never seemed like the hugging type unless it was an occasion where she truly meant it.

And in this case, she did. 

“Thank you, Sunshine.” She said quietly as she squeezed just a bit tighter. Your hands rested against her back as you smiled, feeling as if you had done a job well done even without her trying her dish. You knew Vi had been through a lot over the years and while you didn’t know the full extent of everything just yet, you knew you could at least try to offer her some sort of comfort. So that’s what you strived for and it seems like that's what you succeeded to do. 

Once she pulled back from the hug, you reached up to wipe her tears, the smile still present on your face as you spoke. 

“Well, are you gonna try it?” You asked, to which she smiled and let out a slight chuckle. She then eagerly turned back around towards her plate and dug in as she usually did in the undercity. She knew you didn’t care about the messy nature that often came with Zaun cuisine, even if it wasn’t what you were raised on, it meant a lot to her that you at least tried it out. With one taste she immediately released a sound of pure bliss and dove back in for more.

You laughed, knowing that was Vi’s way of saying you had done a perfect job, even if she didn’t pause from her eating to just tell you so herself. 

[m1d-45]

hourglass

summary: he's running very late for a very important date !

word count: ~1k

-> warnings: none :3

-> gn reader (you/yours) ++ takes place pre-fontaine !

taglist: @samarill || @sarienic || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

lyney’s schedule was not one with wide margins. every minute was accounted for, dedicated to an explicit purpose. his shows (preparing, checking the stage, checking props, checking the stage again—sorry, lynette) took a large portion of his time, but there was also his family (checking on freminet, checking on lynette, checking on the rest of the House, checking on freminet again—are you sure you’re alright?) and missions from father (steal this, leave that, don’t be heard, don’t be seen).

honestly, he barely had time to breathe most days. and that was fine! he rarely knew what to do without some problem to fix or task to complete. it was an unfamiliar feeling, and so he often took on extra work whenever he could. as such, he’d developed a bit of a knack for all the odd jobs you could think of: flower arrangements, finding lost things, getting stains out of clothes, cooking, any and everything.

he’d never had a problem with this. his life was crowded, but straightforward. he knew the answer to every problem, and if he didn’t, he knew who did.

this was, of course, before you entered the picture. now, the tasks he sought out felt too heavy to carry. yes, he wanted to help his family, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was only so many times he could show up late before you’d stop trying to invite him places, and that was the last thing he wanted.

you weren’t fatui, but you didn’t mind that he was and father had given him clearance so long as he was “responsible with his loyalties,” which was entirely achievable! what showman couldn’t juggle?

…him, apparently. because between helping lynette find her tea (someone had moved it) and keeping the local wildlife safe from foltz, he’d lost track of time. he still wasn’t used to a block of free time in his schedule, automatically trying to fill it before he could remember that there was a reason for it. and now, he was rushing through the streets of fontaine, fixing his cape as he all but ran.

you were sat outside the cafe in the same chair as usual, and he slows to a regular pace as he approaches to gather what remained of his appearance. you were reading a book, and he felt both proud that you hadn’t forced yourself to sit there plainly and also ashamed of the fact that it was his fault. regardless, he cleared his throat and called your name, sitting across from you and meeting your smile with his own.

your book was a mystery novel, one he easily enough got you talking about with a bit of prompting. judging by the place your bookmark held, you were a good ways through it, likely just before the reveal. just from your summary, he could easily guess the culprit, but what was the point in ruining your fun?

“so, who do you think it is?”

there were few things lyney liked more than seeing the people he cared for happy and in their element. you got to share your theories and he could listen to your voice out of all the bustle in the city, ordering ile flottante to have an excuse to keep quiet. your own tea was growing cold, but he could always get you another. would picking up the tab make up for his tardiness? it probably shouldn’t.

around halfway through your defense of the butler—cleared by his alibi, but still deemed suspicious by the bartender—you stopped, looking somewhere over his shoulder. he didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary..

your hand rose to tap at your face, just at the corner of your lip. “you’ve got icing on you, by the way.”

ah. well, wasn’t that the perfect topping to his evening?

he grabbed a napkin and quickly wiped across the offending cheek, but you shook your head. “no, the other one.”

at least you were smiling? that made his mistake worth it. he was usually a tidy eater—but he also usually didn’t order flottante, since it was usually too sweet for his liking. today, he’d decided to give it a try, and look where that had gotten him…

he told you as such, and you laughed. he liked hearing you laugh. laughter meant happiness, and happiness meant a job well done. maybe he should get it more often?

“are you doing this intentionally?”

he folded the napkin twice, eyes on you. “doing what intentionally?”

“you missed it twice.” oh, archons- “here, just sit still.”

he didn’t have much time to protest before you were taking your napkin in hand, carefully swiping it an inch or so to the side from where he’d guessed. like him, you folded the mess inside, but unlike him you actually had something on yours, a pale gold in the afternoon light. the whole interaction had lasted maybe a second or two, but it stuck in his head for far longer.

you put a lot of trust into him, more than he knew what to do with. people were not typically fond of the fatui, and even less fond of the magician who could snatch their wallets before they could blink (nevermind that he’d had to learn that skill to survive). it was strange that he could make the same mistake over and over and your faith that he would show never wavered.

not that he ever wanted to give you a reason to. he always kept his promises to those he loved.

[angelyuji]

some thoughts ☺️

cw // drugs, addiction, yandere behavior, abuse (technically)

minors dni!!!

yanderes that would get you addicted to drugs so you would go back to them for that feeling… lemme explain this better

i remember reading a reddit post abt this guy who started using ?nicotine patches? and his gf ended up getting addicted to kissing him cuz she would get that nic buzz when she was with him…. imagine that but it was on purpose becuz then you would keep going back to them.

definitely: wanda maximoff, gojo, constantine, tony stark, ghost (COD)

maybe: deadpool, johnny cage, bruce wayne, sofia falcone, natasha romanoff

i can imagine some characters figuring it out by accident, but i can also imagine some characters doing it on purpose (tony stark, ghost) at a party, peer pressuring you to do lines or smth….

[tcustodisart]

ive been obsessed with wolfheart for months, ty for feeding us the good food

I'm more than happy to provide <3 (Seriously I am so happy Shadowheart is a furry, werewolves activate the neuron for me).

[snapitkeeper]

Hello guys . I really really love her.

[olteacup-writes]

gn!MC x Renee (Step 1)

sum: mc who favorites ren and looks up to her <3

note; since this is set in step 1 renee will be refereed to with he/him and the name Darren !!

im not the best at writing and don't really know how to write that well so please forgive me for any mistakes or the bad grammar :3

The first time Darren saw you was when he went to his mom’s class, you just had this look in your eyes. Basically mesmerizing by him, he could practically see the stars in your eyes, he didn’t know how to feel.

It was… strange? Qiu would be talking to you but you’d just be looking at him, why him? He didn’t understand what you saw in him, he just shrugged it off and thought it was because he was older, kids tend to look up to older kids. It didn’t make sense when he grabbed Baxter, Baxter was older than him and you were still focusing on him!

You said bye to him first, before Qiu and Baxter? He found it weird, he even asked Qiu about it! Of course Qiu didn’t have anything to say, “they probably just think you’re cool, Darren.” Maybe he was right.

He wasn’t sure, he wasn’t sure when he caught the walnut in his mouth, he wasn’t sure if you’d thrown in on purpose. Did you mean for it to get to him? When you looked down and waved at him, he wasn’t sure what to feel, he looked away. But he was kinda glad, he liked how it came from you. It made him feel kind of special in a way, he knows it wasn’t on purpose, there’s no way you intentionally made him get the walnut.

Still next time you guys hanged out he smiled a bit, he was excited to ride his bike. He was excited to race, and he might’ve been a bit excited to see you.. he liked your helmet! And once again you greeted him first, once you all got to the park you even raced with him and Qiu! Your reason was… something, “if Darren’s racing, I’ll race too.”

How were you not embarrassed? Apparently you were good at riding bikes.. and fast, it was basically a race between you and Qiu, that was until you fell from your bike. You stopped talking to Qiu and started to look around, you were looking for something.. or someone. You were looking for him, he knew it, you caught his eye before you fell.

Of course you got injured when you fell, it was a scratch on your hand, it was bleeding. He winced at the impact, but he still crouched down and asked if you were okay. He was concerned… it was a bad injury! And you just looked so.. scared? Well that probably wasn’t the right word.

You were smiling, the moment he asked if you were okay there was a stupid grin on your face. It replaced the tears that gathered in your eyes, Qiu offered his bandanna since neither of them had bandaids. You refused at first, you insisted you could do it yourself and that you didn’t need help, but Darren could see you struggling.

He took it upon himself to help you, Qiu almost told him not to but you quickly let him help. Of course you did, he was your favorite after all, right? Darren had to admit he kinda liked having you around, usually people looked up to Qiu, him included. But with you around he got to feel like that, he understood why Qiu had his big ego now.

shhh this sucks but i wanted to give it a try anyways :3

please note that im not good at writing and i just wanted to do this as a silly little thing! im not shakespeare and there's going to be A LOT of mistakes in my writing. i kinda rushed this since i just made it while at the doctors office lol

[technicrot]

in a taya mood so i made some petpet gifs of some of their kingdom sprites! will make ones of the crob and disguise sprites soon

[hellyeahmfwitchcrafttime]

what if v1 was a girl. Like yeah sure there's mirage but what if v1 ultrakill, the one you played as during ultrakill, was a girl/fem. what if they liked wearing dresses and doing their makeup and being a girl and liked being called a girl. What if they cried while watching I saw the tv glow or playing as Bridget from guilty gear because they realized that being a girl made sense to them more than anything else and they should stop trying to deny that feeling from themself. What if.

[ryansosilly]

Could the sinner really be redeemed? Can he be saved or just lulled to temporary rest? Is peace of mind an achievable, realistic goal for the truly wicked by heart?

Nikto was by all means a good soldier. An unstoppable force once on the field, the only thing that could possibly stop him from finishing this mission was a bullet in the head, point blank.

As proof that he has yet to be stopped, he was still there, alive. Here and there would be a better thing to say. He couldn't keep himself down by any means of the word. All of Nikto, every one of them had differing views and nobody around him could really guess who they were speaking with. Only you. To your surprise it was not that difficult. The contrast between his different 'selves' was pretty prominent, it only takes actual care and to pay attention to notice. Something nobody else was willing to put. Of course, there were those mandatory therapy sessions Nikto was forced into just to still be deployed but they were nothing but a legality. Even his therapist understood that in how..broken, twisted of a man Nikto is, laid the true strength he had. Frankly? He wouldn't be 'Nobody', 'Nikto', if it weren't for the trauma. He knew it, they knew it, his teammates and therapist..nobody stopped to think further. It made everything simple for him.

But sometimes no matter how simple ones life is, nothing will stay the same. A change here and there, an unexpected switch, break, snap or trigger and everything goes back to shit. Nikto constantly needs to be knocked into his damn place. A wild rabid dog punched and kicked into place by the higher ups just for him to bite them and run away for a day or two. Childish, he knows. Stupid decision, he knows.

But he made him do it. Nikto wasn't at fault for running away.

It was a pretty damn unlucky time for that to happen. Everything piled up in his head, the voices being louder than before during a night at a safehouse. He has actively been going through a manic episode for the past days, he had lost track of it. Gripping his mask as he violently shook his body. He hated feeling like this but oh it felt so good.. his only peace of mind was the possibility of a death, of a redemption or some sort of magic potion to revert everything back to how it was. He couldn't handle this state he was in, so, to prevent himself from being seen like that, he ran away.

A stormy, rainy middle of the night, even the bustling highway had almost fully emptied out, leaving nothing but a foggy semi visible road with bright yellow signs. How did he get all the way out of the forest to the highway? He didn't have a clue but he felt so...good. The rational part of his brain was screaming that was a horrible idea!!! If they catch him out, disregarding orders and doing as he fucking wishes, he'll be in a really damn big trouble he doesn't need right now but the mania had other plans.

He... they? Who? Nobody was still in full gear, believing that anytime now, someone, or something, will come out and try to catch him, so might as well be prepared! A gun prepared in the ready as he stood in the middle of the street, staring at one same point. His body was still shaking even if he could hardly feel it from the cold.

Nobody was coming. There was no-one there, not a single car. That ruined Nikto's mood even more. What did he even want? Why would he want someone to catch him? Is that a game for you, Nikto?

Well, lucky for you..

As Niktos body started to give up from the unexpected rush of adrenaline and the freezing cold started to creep in to under his gear. No amount of gear can keep the cold out when he felt it inside of himself long ago. His legs freezing. To him, all of this had happened in the blink of an eye.

To you? The worried you? It has been almost 2 days. Nobody managed to find the man. Why? They weren't on a search. Only you noticed. So, doing the responsible thing.. you took an umbrella during the very next night of Nikto's disappearance and went out.

Weird, this rain hasn't stopped for days now? If anything, it's only getting stronger..

The umbrella did a surprisingly good job at keeping you dry and resisting the wind but your vision was still ' impaired ' from the neverending fogs taking over the entire street, maybe the whole city. This horrible weather hasn't moved and does not seem to be planning on leaving. Nikto found it fitting, you not so much.

Ah. Could you guess..

By the street, against a tree with an injured leg covered in dry blood lays Nikto. You found him. Slowly stepping closer to him, your grip on the umbrella remaining as tight as possible. If this was some sort of a cheesy movie, you'd say that Nikto might just be the direct source of this heavy rain and strong wind.

Nikto..Nikto?

In front of his eyes..from his very eyes, he could swear that he saw an angel, perhaps an angel of death, coming to claim him already. That umbrella above you, your clothes.. he could swear there were black wings right behind you as you stopped your steps right in front of him.

Eyes barely open, he took a deep breath, letting it out. There was no longer any little amount of warm breath showing from his 'mouth' as his body was colder than the very cold streets under him.

'it matches me' he thought to himself. Matching his heart. The heart that felt..ever so tiny bit warmer now that an angel as beautiful as you came to claim him. For once, he didn't want to fight. The dog did not bite anymore.

You spoke, spoke again and asked questions but weren't met with any reaction or answers. Was there a point in speaking?

Moving your umbrella from protecting you to being above the injured soldier. You weren't the one who needed protection even if Nikto may not view it as such. Maybe you really were an angel and he wasn't just deluded man who had given up to his insanity. Maybe..

Maybe.

Maybe..

The rain 'stopped' . It felt..a little less cold for Nikto. The only thing he could remember before passing out for who knows which time now was..how close you were, how..warm you felt just from getting closer. If he could ever believe his eyes again, he couldn't hope for anything but you in front of him until the end. Maybe it was just the mania speaking for him.

Maybe it was just the need for love, the need to be known, felt and seen that spoke for him. Maybe.

Before he could reawake and be greeted by the heavenly kiss he didn't think of being worthy of, he felt himself being picked up by the arms. After so many years, no matter your state, a soldier must remain awake. Calling him a light sleeper would be an understatement.

"Let's go back."

He could so vaguely hear your voice. Who..were you? [Redacted], are you an angel? A good or a bad omen? Why would you help a man like that? Did nobody teach you to let the weak die?

His eyes, once again, betraying him, falling back short. He couldn't hear your voice anymore. Only the loud loud rain that sounded like gunshots, deafening his already hurting numb ears. All he could hear was...?

?

Breathing..soft breathing. The one of a calm person. A person..not one that lives inside of Nikto's head. But someone else. He was being saved for once. Of course, when in the battlefield, he was brought up to his feet a couple times before, patched up but..never has he been saved.

No strength in him was left to think, to fight, to respond. He was at your mercy and instead of finishing the job, you took him 'home'. If he was awake, able to speak, he would be yelling at you to finish him off. You should've killed him when you had the chance. Were you stupid or just too soft for the army? Was he disgusted or thankful? Answers for which he couldn't think right now.

All he knew for a certain was that he wasn't alone and that everyone within him had involuntarily accepted your help. For which..as much as he hates it, he'll be indebted to you. He'll be nice for a day or two, maybe a week then everything will go back to normal.

That was the plan.

Oh..but the plan.. the plan was ignored, the mission unsuccessful.

He let you help him. Again. Again..again. and never repaid you. Every time he felt like he was losing himself, he'll subconscious limp to your room, his mind going back to that rainy night. When he was saved. He wanted to be saved. He wanted to be saved more than he wanted to be alive, to be alone.

Tonight, being especially tough on him. Everyone and everything was so loud. Earlier a bomb exploded so close to him, his ears were still bleeding but he refused to get himself checked out due to panic. What if he hurt himself badly enough to never be able to hear your voice again? He surely deserves it.

He 'deserves' it. He believes he does. Yet.. he is limping to you after the mission, shaky hands on the walls, leaving bloody prints all across it without a single fuck left in the world to give.

He needs to get to you. To the one who makes it ever so slightly closer to bearable. His saviour.

Stumbling down the halls, ignoring the nasty looks he got from other soldiers and just..focusing on the ground, his feet. Left foot, right foot.. he remembers how you helped him get on his feet so many times. Was it just something you did for everyone? Of course it was. Teamwork was a main thing for everyone here..yet.. you felt gentle to him.

Too gentle for him to consciously want to get close to. But now? That ' consciousness' was no longer there. What remains was only the broken shell of what used to be a man, a walking upcoming suicide, a living Ghost.

Closer to a zombie, a corpse that moves and growls in pain, he made his way down to your office. Once again, it was in the middle of the night. He got lucky that you took a night shift, finishing some paperwork. (Some of which, was meant for Nikto to fill but without telling him, you took most of the loads of work.) That's when you heard the thumping, the stomping and dragging of feet coming up to your door and stopping abruptly.

You spun your chair around to look at the door just in time to see it being kicked out open.

There he stood, once again, a broken mess. There was nothing visible in his eyes. No life, no ideas, no thoughts. Truly, a dead man. Yet, he walked. Walked..stepped right inside your room, walking up to you.

The desk was directly in front of the door with only the chair in between. Perfect set up for him if you ask. A simple room, he quite liked it. (Which was his excuse he used to justify sleeping in the office when you did work because you made his nightmares less worse just be being there.)

The silence was deafening, only the drops of blood hitting the floor along with the heavy sounds of his dirty boots that were muddled by a carpet making a sound. You understood, he understood. Nothing else was needed before he collapsed down on his knees right in front of you. One of his arms grabbed the armrest of your chair and the other one grabbed your ankle, pulling you and the entire chair closer. He was in no means gentle. Nikto didn't even think he was capable of being gentle. Maybe you'll get a bruise on your ankle for that grip but it was completely irrelevant.

His grip lessened immediately when he saw you didn't fight. Both arms releasing what they held as he rested then on your lap instead, his head laying down on his arms. From then, he was completely motionless. He could barely breathe with the mask on and in that position but to him, being close and not alone was far more important than any stupid amounts of air.

Your hand slowly put down the pen on the desk, making sure to not spin the chair around while you were putting the pen back on it's place. No need to wake him up now.

You stayed during his worst times. You stayed during his best. You stayed.

So, he'll stay. For an hour or two, he'll cry unknowingly. Most of his disfigured face could not even feel such sensations anymore. He needed you to look at him and tell him that he is crying. The water droplets were too gentle, too insignificant to feel against his bruised up, mostly skinless face. The face you still caressed so lovingly when you decided to help him. When you were nice enough to suggest him vaseline to make his face less itchy. When you cleaned and put on his mask.. a damn privilege for which you waited literal years to get. You waited for him. You were patient and careful. You understood.

How could he not cry?

A hand softly petting his back in a calm soothing manner. Ever so slowly, you leaned down to fully embrace him in a hug while still letting him let his pent up emotions. His ears felt muffled, his legs sore from running, crawling and hiding. Arms sore from carrying all those heavy weapons around, his face..his face simply just always hurt. Something always hurt. Mentally and physically.

But now? Yes, everything still hurt but..now there was a reason for him to want to make it stop hurting. To get the help he needs. His shaking only increased as you caressed him, eyes shut tightly, his teeth clenching, jaw sore. This feeling of vulnerability was sickening to the very core but his core couldn't be more glad than it was now that he got this. That now..he wasn't alone.

You weren't an angel, a god or a therapist but you were his saviour. His angel and his god. The one god that he could pray to and not feel betrayed by. Someone who heard his cries and helped. He couldn't be more thankful. Spiteful, hateful..so many conflicting emotions. Things he couldn't deal with alone.

He felt like the luckiest person alive. He finally felt like a person.

Nikto was no longer just a nobody, a killing machine. When with you, he was someone. He was someone. Someone with a reason to be. And treated as such.

For now, this someone will enjoy your time together. Worshipping the ground you step on for as long as you allow him.

The poor rabid dog has finally been taken to a shelter. Shown love. Shown care. Even if he still bites sometimes, he still has a home.

[gracieo]

Knuckles that say WIFE GUY!

[unoislazy]

School Time Crush

(College Au)

Vi x Fem!Reader

Basically under her tough and flirty exterior Vi is a dork.

This is my most UNSERIOUS fanfic to date so please for the love of god don’t take this seriously. I just wanted something silly goofy to cope with what is to come😔

Warnings:Cursing.

“So… midterms… crazy right?” Vi said awkwardly as she walked alongside you, her hands in the pocket of her favorite jacket. You smiled with a slight exhale from your nose before glancing at her from the side.

“Very.” You responded as you shifted your bag to a bit of a more comfortable position. You and VI haven't always been friends, you met in a math class that you both had to take and happened to sit together. From then on you’ve gradually hung out more and more outside of classes, and outside of the context of school in general.

“So I was thinking.” She began, tilting her head to the side a bit as she looked at you. She used to have such a tough extortion around you but as you got closer you watched as it practically melted away. Sure she could hold her own in a fight but on the inside she was such a softie, whether she wanted to be or not.

“That’s dangerous.” You joked as you stole another glance at her before looking back to focus on where you were walking.

“We haven’t hung out together in a while.”

“Vi, we’re literally hanging out right now.”

“I know but, I mean really hanging out. Like go somewhere with a purpose of doing something.” She said, her hands remaining in her pockets as she gestured with them.

“Wow you have such a way with words.” You said playfully.

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don't.” You teased with a shrug which earned a sarcastic yet lighthearted eye roll from your friend. Before you could continue your conversation a different voice came into the conversation,

“Vi!” You heard someone call out from not too far away. You hung around Vi enough to be able to recognize that voice without a second thought, powder, Vi’s sister. She ran over to you two, her hair in her usual semi-long braids, her clothing covered in paint and dust from other artistic mediums.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your date with your girlfriend, I just got a call from-“ She spoke as she finally got closer.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Vi quickly interrupted to which Powder replied even faster,

“Yeah whatever, long story short I need you to come with me, right now, let’s go.” She said hastily as she grabbed her sister's hand.

“I’ll bring her back in one piece for you I promise.” She said as she turned to you with a salute. You couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. You watched as Vi was dragged away, with a small wave you then turned to other things.

As Powder dragged Vi away, she turned to her sister.

“You still haven’t asked her out?” She stopped short, placing her hands on her hips as she looked at her older sister.

“No but I was getting to that…” Vi argued slightly, crossing her arms in front of

herself before Powder shook her head.

“Yeah okay.” She huffed, clearly not believing Vi in the slightest.

“I was-“ She cut herself off with a sigh, realizing it wasn’t worth arguing with her sister before continuing, “What did you even drag me away for?” Vi asked, looking down at her sister a bit.

“Right so crazy story, your friend Jayce, he lost his phone so he asked Viktor to ask Ekko to ask me to ask you to help him with his math. He said it was super urgent.”

Vi simply stared at her sister with the blankest of blank stares.

“That’s it?”

“Yup.”

“Seriously?”

“Mhm.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

“Viktor was right there and he decided to ask for me…” She said, almost as if she was disappointed in his critical thinking skills. She sighed, leaning her head back a bit before looking back at her sister. She then quickly looked back to where she had been standing with you just moments before, without this interruption she would have already asked you out, or tried to at least.

“Whatever, fine I’ll help him.” She sighed and begrudgingly made her way to the library where she knew Jayce stayed from open to close when he needed to finish work. He was a very academically bright man, books were his strong suit and so was troubleshooting projects. Anything else though? Not a singular clue in the world. Vi was very much the opposite, she didn’t care much for books unless she had to, and even then they were her favorite. So the two of them together created one averagely intelligent person.

Which is why she was so shocked he asked for her help and not his boyf- his friend Viktors help.

When she finally met up with him, they got right to work, and almost just as soon as they started they quickly realized they weren’t going to actually be able to get any of this done. Vi couldn’t focus, she was more focused on being able to ask you out. Her mind raced with possible ways to go about it and none of them seemed just right. In a momentary lapse of judgment, Vi turned to Jayce and without a single ounce of hesitation asked,

“How do you ask a girl out?”

Silence. Complete silence fell over the two.

“You’re asking… me?” Jayce asked while pointing at himself before looking behind him as if there could’ve been anyone else she was asking.

“Duh Talis. You asked Mel, didnt you? How did you do it?” She asked, completely disregarding the work she had in front of her. Figuring out a solution to her dilemma was much more important.

“Well I wouldn't say I asked her out, it was more of a ‘what are we?’ Kind of a situation.” He explained, avoiding eye contact with Vi the whole time as she exasperatedly put her head down on the table, her hands clasped together in a plea of desperation.

“Any words of wisdom, any at all, just give me something here pretty boy and I’ll ACTUALLY try to help you with your work.” She pleaded, which was a fairly rare sight.

Jayce knew this which made it too tempting to not say no. So he agreed, albeit reluctantly as he knew there was fuck all he could actually help with but god damn it he was going to try.

“Okay, so have you ever heard of the shoulder touch?” He asked, his hands clasped together in front of his mouth as he looked towards Vi like some evil mastermind.

Vi raised an eyebrow at him, immediately regretting her decision to ask him.

“No. No I haven’t.”

It was fairly straight forward, all she had to do was put her hand on your shoulder and say ‘hey’. An immediate guaranteed swoon, as Jayce put it. Vi decided that was enough evidence for her and made her exact plan to try and ask you out.

Luckily it wasn’t long before she got to see you again and she immediately attempted to put the plan into action.

“Remember what he said, gotta go slow, can’t rush or it’ll be awkward.” Vi thought to herself as she walked up to you, trying to look as casual as possible.

“Wait why the fuck am I taking advice from Jayce of all people he can’t even-“

“Hey Vi.” You said which quickly snapped her out of her thoughts. She hadn’t realized she practically made her way right in front of you as you stayed leaning on the wall behind you.

Perfect opportunity.

You looked at her confused as she suddenly took her hand out of her pocket and reached towards your shoulder and leaned forward just the slightest bit. What she didn’t account for was how much farther away you were than she thought, she was so focused on not fucking up that she managed to mess up the simplest part.

Standing close to you.

She quickly stopped herself from falling forward as her hand slammed against the wall behind you, saving herself from a fall as well as managing to repurpose her shoulder touch to something that looked equally purposeful.

“Hey.” She greeted calmly as if she meant to do that the whole time. In your eyes, it went incredibly smoothly except for that split second where she looked terrified that she was falling forward.

It was then that Vi realized.

What does she say now?

Immediately all the confidence she held on her face disappeared as she simply looked at you, then the wall then back at you as if some answers would just appear.

“Are you okay?” You asked, a little concerned by her sudden change in demeanor.

“Would you maybe wanna go on a date with me, at some point, some time.”

“Such a way with words.” You laughed before nodding with a smile.

“Shut up you know what I meant.” She rolled her eyes.

[m1d-45]

room 11-13

summary: albedo is weird. no, not just weird- disgustingly strange.

word count: ~2.5k

-> warnings: implied stalking [him -> you] ; he is a weird creep!! brief + non described mentioned nudity (of reader, within a drawing)

-> gn reader (you/yours) in a modern au !

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

your roommate was… interesting, to say the least. not that you really had many expectations—unlike apparently everyone else, you didn’t come to university with a plethora of friends packed in your bag. you had no names to list on your housing contract, no familiar faces to look forward to when you came home, just you, a handful of cardboard boxes and a lingering sense that you’d forgotten something.

there was nothing you could pin about him. nothing in specific, no one catalyst you could point to. sure, you don’t see him often, but that isn’t inherently a bad thing. there’s nothing wrong with not going out much, there’s nothing wrong with being a quiet person when you’re living with a stranger. the common room is clean, the sink is (relatively) empty, and none of your things in the fridge have been eaten. he really, by all standards, should be a perfectly fine roommate, but…

albedo was a quiet man. you first met him when you moved in, delicately pouring exact amounts of water into a small tins over the sink without a single sound or stray droplet. he looked up, you exchanged names, and that was that. the rest of your day was spent unpacking in your room, barely hearing the click of his door closing.

you never quite asked what he was doing that first day, but you could put two and two together. he had a habit of leaving pencils or erasers or other supplies on the coffee table, and you often ran into him when he came out of his room to fetch them. you’re not quite sure how you never see him in the living room when you never told him your schedule, but… well, whatever. it didn’t take a genius to know that the guy with charcoal smears across his hands was an artist. and, if you’d somehow missed those, you sometimes ran into half-used palette in the fridge, beads of paint in a myriad of colors sealed neatly in plastic containers, changing every time you checked.

you weren’t sure why they were always there, as you’d definitely seen one when he was in the dorm, but… well, it’s not really your business, is it? maybe he’s busy, maybe he doesn’t want to paint, maybe he’s taking a nap, who cares. you grab what you need and go back to your room; there’s more important things to worry about than a stranger’s hobbies. honestly, you shouldn’t spend so much time thinking about him. you could hardly claim to know someone you never saw.

well, except when you did see him.

you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge as you came back from your chemistry lab, not minding the usual palette of paint beside it. also as usual, you heard his door open as he remembered some random item, not minding the sound of his footsteps as you receded into your own room-

“wait! ah- please…”

you forgotten what his voice sounded like. it’s mostly out of shock, not recognition, that you turn around, seeing him lingering in the entrance to his half of the dorm. his hair is loose around his shoulders, catching the light from the window and glowing gold. his apron is stained with a rainbow of paint, matching the perpetual lines across his hands, and he seems a bit too nervous to be talking with someone he’s been living with for a few months now.

“…i couldn’t make it to the lab today,” he starts, words measured and not at all like his original call, practiced instead of panicked. “could i borrow your notes?”

…you’re in the same chemistry class? you’d never noticed. then again, you’re not sure you could pick him out of a crowd—it’s not like you two were exactly close… but giving him your data was honestly a non-issue. normally you wouldn’t think twice about it, except if he was in your lab section then he should know the rules about missing them.

“you’re going to have to retake the lab anyway, aren’t you? my report won’t help you at all.”

he blinks, like he’d forgotten that fact, and you half hope that’ll be the end of it. you still have your own work to get to, after all.

“still… it would give me something to reference, so when i do it i’ll know if my results are reasonable.” his brows are drawn, genuinely worried, crystal blue carrying a surprising amount of emotion despite the careful cadence of his words. “i’d greatly appreciate your assistance on this matter… i don’t have a reliable way to contact anyone else in the class.”

it only takes you a few moments to weigh the pros and cons. at worst, your partner can back you up if he tries to steal your work. at best, nothing happens and you’ve earned a bit of goodwill.

you shrug, taking off your bag and setting it on the counter, unzipping the main pocket and digging for your lab manual. you find it and flip to today’s lab, mentally wondering what an artist would think of the irritated scribbles down the side of the page. whatever the case, you hold it out toward the hallway he was before, only to find him barely a foot away. he’s stood over your shoulder, letting your manual bump into his chest without a flinch, without an ounce of the worry from before.

without an ounce of anything at all, really. his face is flat, empty, just staring down at the words in front of him without seeming to read them at all.

“…sorry,” you start, “i didn’t hear you-”

“don’t be sorry.” with a blink, he’s back, taking the manual with a gentle smile. “thank you for your help. i’ll return it by tonight.”

“…yeah, take your time.”

you’re not going to question what or why whatever happened did. it’s.. just easier if you don’t. you grab your bag and go to your room, focused on anything else.

you don’t find it in the common area, on the coffee table or by the sink or in any reasonable area. he doesn’t knock on your door to return it. no, instead, you trip over it the next day as you leave your room, squinting in the dark to see it laying on the carpet, a note taped to the front.

yeah, you’re not reading that. not now, at least. you’re certain albedo is a nice guy, if socially awkward, but… you can give him the benefit of the doubt later. you shove the note in a drawer and forget about it, going to class. if you just ignore it, you won’t have to deal with it.

it must not have been anything important, because he doesn’t ever bring it up again. it’s almost as if nothing happened. there’s a new pencil on the common room whenever you walk by, he ducks his head and smiles sheepishly when grabbing it, and nothing is new. you try to look for him in the lab, if only to be courteous, but never find him. it’s not a big class… but whatever, you’re not too familiar with his face anyway. after a week or two, you stop trying.

it’s wishful thinking, really.

you have to do a double take when opening the fridge one day, the paint on the palette looking, from the corner of your eye, like a human hand. it’s just skin-toned paints, delicately mixed into a color that somewhat looks like yours.. by the looks of it, he must have fussed with the tint for a while. normally there’s only small bubbles of paint, but this is excessively fine refinement.. he must just be a perfectionist.

you can’t leave your room without running into him. not just like before, with brief intersections as he grabs what he’s forgotten, but actual interactions. he sits on the couch, drawing in a small notebook, asking you about your classes like he’s not supposed to be in his own classes. sure, he could be taking some online, but it’s like he never leaves the dorm.

he asks as usual, one day, what class you’re going to. when you finally gather your courage and ask why he himself isn’t going to the lab, he startles, like he’d forgotten he was attending. there were plenty of reasons why he wasn’t going—maybe he was in a different section of the class, or he had a car and had reduced travel time, or quite literally anything other than silence. but he sat there, staring at you like you were the one who had mixed up your schedule, with the same painfully empty look as before.

you left soon after that.

if asked to describe albedo in three words or less, you’d fumble for a few moments before landing on “fine, but weird.” if asked to do so with any other level of detail, you’d probably end up saying the exact same thing.

and that’s fine. you didn’t really expect to become best friends with your roommate. but for archons’ sake, he’s just so… uncanny.

you’ve never seen any other food in the fridge but yours. you cannot remember ever seeing or hearing him leave or enter the dorm, or ever remember not seeing some sign of him being there. his door was perpetually closed, the faint sound of scratching coming from behind it, and he’d just… freeze at random. like he recedes into himself, leaving a hollow husk until he returns, eyes left as flat disks set into an unfeeling face. there’s nothing inherently wrong with not showing many expressions, but whatever he’s got going on is far more concerning than that.

so really, who could blame you for being curious? his sketchbook is just there, laying open on the table, only partially masked by the small bag of supplies next to it. the door to the bathroom is closed, you really shouldn’t be invading his privacy like this, but it’s not like he even bothered to close it.

still, it’s wrong.

still, having something solid to point to could really help if you ever need to make a complaint to an RA.

oh archons, this is such a bad idea.

before you can convince yourself not to, you walk over and sit in his usual place on the couch, picking up his sketchbook and gritting your teeth through the fact that there’s no way this is morally justified.

the current spread is plain. it’s entirely in pencil, repeated iterations of different kinds of jewelry. rings, with ornate spirals and diamonds along the sides, leading into a gem of many different cuts. some simple stud earrings, some hoops, a necklace draped around a half-drawn bust, the chain sketched to look like blooming flowers strung together. there’s some notes in another script, but other than that, it’s entirely normal. there’s nothing weird about a guy that draws bracelets in his spare time. but your mind itches to find a justification, searching for proof, and you’re already in too deep. despite your better judgement, you turn the page, doing your best not to drop it when you do.

it’s you.

you, at least six times on two pages alone. smiling, waving, fixing your hair, by the seven you feel faintly sick, fingers digging into the pages as you try to rationalize what you’re seeing.

it could just be a one off. maybe you have a particularly interesting face to draw? except the next page is the same, and so is the next, and you flip through them all with the edge of your thumb and it’s all you.

all of it. every single page that has ink on it has your face. from the very front to the very back, with only a page or two of white left, and it’s clear that the jewelry was an intentional decoy. there’s a spread dedicated to just your hands, one to various outfits he’s seen you in, one- archons, one in various stages of undress, barely granting you the dignity of keeping them from the waist up. the worst part, really, is how accurate they are, clear proof of just how much time he’s spent staring at you.

you recognize his voice now, quiet and measured as he calls your name. that could just be your heart in your ears, though.

he has that same blank expression again, standing in the doorway, looking between you and the book. you’re certain he can see the paled fingertips of your grip on the cover. “do… do you not like them?”

“…what?”

he settles back into himself, sad, shoulders slumping and eyes downturned. “they’re just practices, i promise. the actual painting looks much better…”

bile threatens the back of your throat. “the painting?”

“yes, the painting. the one i mentioned in my note…”

…the note. his note. the one you didn’t read. the one he gave you after a grand total of one significant interactions, before which you all but considered him a ghost. and he decided that making a painting of you was a normal thing to do?

“…it makes sense you forgot it. i can’t imagine i’ve ever come close to properly capturing your beauty… it doesn't matter the medium, i never seem to get it right...”

he crosses his arms, picking idly at his lips with one hand, like he’s discussing a particularly annoying problem on his homework and not the fact that he has drawings of you topless. after a few moments of mumbling, he shakes his head. “i’ll do better. i promise i will. one day i'll draw something that finds even a fraction of your perfection.”

you don’t care. all you want is to get out of here, to lock your doors and try not to call the cops while he’s in earshot. “it’s fine, albedo”

the lie is a poison that seems to sting him upon arrival, a ripple of shock crossing his impassive expression. “it's not fine, not at all. how can i call myself an artist if i fail to impress my muse? please, give me time, i promise i can do better-”

“it’s fine,” you repeat, setting the sketchbook down and realizing with another stab of disgust that he’s written your name on the front cover. you stand, hands buzzing with the echo of what you’ve witnessed, not caring for the crestfallen look on his face. “…you’re a talented artist,” you grit out.

and you’re going to be sick.

[wuddshipp]

I'm gonna keep on drawing as a read The Legend of Luke. It's been many years since I read it. The response to it has been beautiful and wonderful. You guys have been brightening my day and making me laugh. <3

Reading the second chapter where they conspire a false trial to remind Martin of all he's done for them and that he is allowed to go to a home he barely remembers... ugh. I was nearly weeping.

Also shout out to Trimp for her stellar descriptions of the characters. The ancient huge badger (Bella). The tiniest, frailest, oldest mouse she'd ever seen (Germaine) and Martin as "the sturdy beast with strong features and friendly tone" and that she liked all three of them immediately. I was cackling

I like to think that she immediately recognized a fellow northerner.

[necroticmoth]

Who is s(he)? - I Monster

I call his name

Across an endless plain

he'll answer me

Wherever he may be

Oh, who is he? (Oh, who is he?)

A misty memory (A misty memory)

A haunting face (A haunting face)

Is he a lost embrace?

Somewhere across the sea of time

A love immortal such as mine

Will come to me

Eternally

[ivanttakethis]

Guardian Cassio (Tov’s guardian)

I used this sci-fi/fantasy picrew to create a portrait of my alnst oc Tov’s guardian, Cassio (they/them)!

Cassio is short for Cassiopeia (like the constellation).

They come from an alien race called the Auru, known for their distinct shade of blue skin/scales.

Aurusians can take on different physical forms, similar to shape shifting.

Cassio shifted into a humanoid form when they bought Tov, hoping that it would be easier for the young human to become comfortable with them.

Their form isn’t a perfect replica of a human, though (see: horns, scales, and lack of pupils).

They stand about 7ft (~213cm) tall, but often wear heels or platforms that make them even taller. By comparison, Tov is 4’11 (150cm).

Tov doesn’t know what Cassio’s original form looks like, but they’ve told her that she wouldn’t be able to recognize/comprehend them.

Cassio speaks to Tov in human language.

Cassio's native language sounds a little like a human language if you hear it in the background. But the more you focus on it, the more un-Earthly it becomes.

They’re a very creative alien with lofty ambitions and a unique style. Some describe their personality as “whimsical” or “spiritual”.

Tov thinks Cassio is a bit flighty and kind of naive, but ultimately harmless. She doesn’t really have any complaints.

Like Tov, they love space and constellations. They have a tattoo of a crescent moon and a star beneath their right eye.

They own a fashion house called Cassiopeia and work on the outfit design team for Alien Stage.

Tov is their first and only pet. They don’t have any plans to buy another.

[banished-away]

feeling slightly vindicated watching an RAS interview bc keep getting this feeling from the drizzt books that theyre very italian-american (as in, i see a lot of things i recognize from italian culture in it, but influenced and changed by american culture) and he said that he based off the culture of menzo partly on his hometown and then the sopranos/godfather which confirmed it to me

also he pronounces menzoberranzan the way i used to before someone else corrected me JKNDSKJFKDS