#stole that last line from arcane | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunsburns · 2 months ago

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30 for 30 (ii.) — vi (league of legends) !

⟢ synopsis. you swear you would be in peace if it wasn’t for her. but this kept you on your toes, you guessed. just the way you liked it. besides, everyone knew that falling in love with your best friend’s older sister only led to trouble.

⟢ contains. afab!reader, arcane!vi, feminine characteristics, angst, lesbians, lots and lots of longing, the reader is lowkey insane i cannot lie, vi is kinda toxic but we love her anyway, modern!au, nsfw, fingering, oral, really bad ending sorry, SMUT 18+.

⟢ word count. 11k+

⟢ part one: 30 for 30 (i.)

⟢ authors note. i have been working on this for the last 6 weeks and i have lived so many lives through this fic. christmas passed, then new years, and then my abuelo died a few days ago. no one talk to me for a while, please.

You’d grown so used to ignoring that festering ache in your chest that when your phone rang late one night, her name on the screen, it caught you off guard. Her voice was slurred, rough and frayed around the edges. Drunk. She asked if you could pick her up from some bar you didn’t know, mumbling something about not wanting her family to see her like this.

The drive to the bar had felt surreal, a heavy quiet filling the car as you tried not to overthink why she’d called you . And now, as she sat slumped in the passenger seat of your dad’s old car, it felt no less strange. The dim glow of the streetlights flickered across her face, catching on her freckles and the faint blush on her cheeks. Her head lolled against the window, her hair sticking out in places, the faint scent of alcohol clinging to her like an unwelcome shadow.

Vander and Silco used to tell you that you were family, but as you stole glances at her from the corner of your eye, it struck you how distant she felt. There was a chasm between you—one you weren’t sure either of you could cross. The thought lingered in your chest like a weight, growing heavier as the silence stretched on.

When you pulled into the driveway, she was half-asleep, a faint flush stained her freckled cheeks. Her arm was heavy as you draped it over your shoulder, her weight pressing into you as she stumbled out of the car. She muttered something incoherent, her breath warm against your neck.

“Just a little farther,” you murmured, your voice steady, though your pulse was anything but.

Inside your room, the mess was almost comforting—a reminder of who you were before moments like these blurred the lines. You eased her down onto the bed, her arm slipping from your shoulders as she collapsed with a muffled groan, burying her face in the pillow.

“Vi,” you said softly, crouching to tug off her boots. “You’ll feel better if—”

“Stop fussing,” she muttered, her voice slurred but tinged with familiar defiance. “Mmm.... Not a kid.”

You couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at your lips, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Her lips curved into a crooked smirk, one eye cracking open just long enough to meet yours. But it wasn’t her usual sharp, teasing look. It was softer, tired. Vulnerable in a way that made you hold your breath.

You finished pulling off her boots, setting them aside, and you draped a blanket over her. For a moment, you lingered, your eyes tracing the curve of her jaw, the way her features softened in sleep. Your fingers twitched at your sides. You wanted to reach out, to brush your fingers against hers, to ease the weight she carried even for a second—but you didn’t.

The door felt heavier than it should have as you turned to leave.

“Hey.”

Her voice stopped you mid-step, quiet but insistent. You turned to find her half-awake, her gaze unfocused yet pinned on you.

“Yeah?” you asked, your throat dry.

“Thanks,” she murmured, your name slipping from her lips like an afterthought, though it struck you like a blow.

You nodded, swallowing hard, and left before your resolve could falter.

Your fingers twitched at your sides. You wanted to touch her—just her hand, her shoulder, anything to ground yourself in this moment—but you knew better. So, you turned to leave, the sound of her voice stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey.”

You turned, your pulse quickening. She was still half-asleep, her gaze unfocused as she stared in your direction.

“Yeah?” you asked softly.

“Thanks,” she muttered, your name slipping from her lips in a way that made your chest ache.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, and reached for the door.

But later, when you came back to check on her, you found her sitting on the floor by the bed. Her back pressed against the frame, her knees drawn up, and her hands clutched a photo from your desk. Her knuckles were pale where they gripped the frame. Her thumb traced over Claggor’s face, back when he was just a chubby kid with a grin too big for his face.

“Vi?” you called gently, stepping closer.

She didn’t look up. Her voice was low. “I’m such a fuck-up.”

The words hit harder than you expected, knocking the air from your lungs. You sank to the floor beside her, your shoulder brushing against hers.

“You’re not a fuck-up,” you said quietly.

She scoffed, her gaze fixed on the photo.

You hesitated, then offered a small, almost shy smile. “I think you’re cool.”

That earned a laugh—quiet, shaky, but real. She glanced at you, unshed tears clinging to her lashes, catching the faint light and making her eyes shimmer. Her lips twitched into a sad grin. “You think I’m cool?” She asked, wiping hastily at her face with the back of her hand, a hollow snort slipping out. “Jesus, what are we, ten?”

You shrugged, the heat crawling up your neck almost unbearable. “I’ll always think you’re cool.”

Her smile faltered, her expression shifting into something quieter, something raw. Her gaze softened, lingering on you, and it felt like she was searching for something.

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

For a moment, the air between you felt impossibly heavy, thick with words left unspoken. Then she let out a slow breath, her shoulders slumping against the bed frame. “I just... I wanna be a good person. For my family.”

The vulnerability in her voice hit you like a punch to the gut. “You are a good person, Vi,” you said, your tone steady, though your chest ached with the effort to keep it that way. “I think you are. And they think you are, too.”

She blinked at you, her eyes softening further. The lines of her face—usually so sharp, so guarded—melted into something tender, something that made it impossible to look away. The freckles across her nose stood out against her flushed skin, and the faint scar cutting through her brow caught your eye, an anchor in another sea of thoughts that threatened to drown you. The tattoo along her cheekbone seemed softer now, framed by the dim glow from the bedside lamp, its edge catching the shadow of her jawline.

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze locking with yours, and her lips curved into a wider smile. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she muttered. “I’m happy Powder has you in her life.”

The words sent a flutter through your chest, the kind that made it hard to breathe. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too widely, your pulse hammering in your ears.

“You should rest,” you said instead.

For a second, she didn’t move, her eyes flickering down—to your lips. Was it? Was she? You tried not to jump for joy or scream or cheer, swallowing back the girlish, excited squeal that nearly left you. It was so brief you almost convinced yourself it hadn’t happened.

Still, you stayed beside her. The room was quiet save for the soft rhythm of her breathing, which eventually evened out. Her hand still gripped the photo tightly, her thumb brushing faintly across its surface even in sleep.

You tried to focus on that—on the photo, on anything else—but the thrum of your own heartbeat drowned everything out. You were too aware of her, of her presence, of the way her face looked unguarded, almost peaceful now.

And for fuck’s sake, you wished you could’ve kept ignoring her.

The sound of laughter and clinking glasses echoed from the kitchen. The warm smell of roasted meats, herbed vegetables, and freshly baked bread filled the house, weaving a comforting cocoon of home and familiarity. The occasional pop of sizzling oil and the scrape of utensils against cookware punctuated the muted hum of conversation. It should’ve been perfect.

Almost.

You’d spent most of the day in the kitchen with Vander and Claggor, sleeves rolled up and hands coated in flour or spices as the three of you moved in easy, practiced rhythm, and maybe getting a little tipsy with wine while you worked.

Cooking was grounding. There was something about the simplicity of it—peeling potatoes, kneading dough, and tasting sauces—that gave your restless mind a moment’s reprieve. It lets you focus on the here and now, your hands busy and your thoughts, for the most part, quiet.

Mostly quiet.

Because no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself, your thoughts kept circling back to her.

Vi.

You hadn’t seen much of her today, which was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it gave you the space to breathe, to settle the frayed edges of your nerves without the weight of her presence pressing against your every thought. A curse because even the absence of her was its own kind of presence.

She was everywhere. In the distant echo of her voice from the other room. In the low, rumbling sound of her laugh that you caught when you passed by the dining table. In the fleeting glimpses of her out of the corner of your eye, a blur of red hair and sharp edges that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to look at directly.

When the food was prepped and tucked neatly away in the oven, you excused yourself to get ready. Powder had followed you upstairs, chattering away about the table setup, how the napkins needed to be folded a specific way, and whether the wine glasses were clean enough. You smiled despite the knot still coiled in your stomach.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you focused on getting ready. Powder sat perched on the counter beside you, swinging her legs as she twisted her hair into short messy blue pigtails. The soft buzz of the house seemed far away and you worked in companionable silence.

The moment you picked up your eyeliner, though, a shadow passed in the hallway.

You didn’t have to look to know who it was. You felt it.

Powder’s casual chatter stilled mid-sentence, her hands freezing mid-braid as her gaze darted to the door.

You glanced up, turning your head just enough to see her through the mirror.

Vi had stopped, one hand brushing the edge of the doorframe as if she’d paused without meaning to. She wasn’t saying anything—just looking. Her hair was tied back and finally pulled out of her face.

Your eyes met in the reflection. For a second, everything else blurred—even the ache that had been sitting low in your chest all day.

She didn’t move. Neither did you.

Her lips parted slightly as if to say something, but she stopped herself. Her hand dropped from the frame, and her eyes softened. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t enough. But it was everything to you.

“Hey,” Powder piped up suddenly, startling both of you. Vi blinked, glancing away quickly as though she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

You dropped your gaze back to the counter, feigning interest in the clutter of makeup brushes and compacts.

“Hi,” Vi muttered.

Powder hopped off the counter, her movements casual, but when she reached the door, she nudged it closed with a quiet click, shutting Vi out.

The space felt even smaller now, the tension curling tighter in your chest as you forced your hands steady and reached for the eyeliner again.

It didn’t matter.

None of it mattered.

And if you told yourself that enough times, maybe you’d start to believe it.

Powder didn’t press, instead humming a tune as she returned to her hair, but the weight of Vi’s gaze lingered like a phantom. Even as you finished your makeup and brushed off imaginary specks from your clothes, you couldn’t shake the way her eyes had softened in that fleeting moment.

Maybe you had too many glasses of wine.

The evening swept forward as though nothing was amiss. Dinner was ready, the dishes were carried out to the table, and the family gathered in the dining room—a warm, crowded space made cozy by the soft glow of holiday lights and the flicker of candles. Plates clinked, the air hummed with laughter and conversation, and the smell of roasted meat and spices filled the room.

You ended up seated between Powder and Isha, grateful for the buffer between you and Vi, who sat across the table. Vander took his usual spot at the head, towering over the rest of the group like a benevolent giant, while Silco lounged at the other end, his sharp eyes keen and observant even as he sipped his wine.

The conversation rippled through the table, shifting effortlessly between childhood pranks and escalating into an all-out debate between Ekko and Powder about their taste in music. Despite everything, you found yourself smiling, the warmth of the moment settling in your chest like a soft hum.

Ekko leaned toward you, reaching over Powder to tap your arm. “Back me up here! She swears her old mixtapes were legendary, but seriously, half of them were just static and random snippets of songs she couldn’t finish recording.”

Powder whipped around, her arms crossing over her chest in defiance. “They had character , thank you very much. Unlike your boring-ass beats that all sound the same. Admit it, Ekko—you wouldn’t know originality if it smacked you in the face.”

You laughed, holding your hands up as if to ward off a fight. “Don’t drag me into this.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Powder shot back smugly, flipping one of her pigtails over her shoulder. “You’d pick mine anyway. Right?”

“Doubt it,” Mylo muttered from across the table, not even bothering to look up from his plate. “Your mixtapes were shit.”

The room practically exploded as Powder’s outrage hit full volume, her chair scraping back slightly as she leaned forward to defend her honour. Ekko egged her on with exaggerated imitations of her tape-recording process, while Claggor sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as though this wasn’t the first time he’d been subjected to this argument.

Vi’s laugh broke through the chaos, low and raspy, cutting through the din like a blade. It froze you in place for a moment, the sound pulling at something deep and tender inside you. Your gaze flicked up almost instinctively, and there she was—her lips quirking in that lazy half-smile.

For just a second, her eyes caught yours across the table, and the rest of the noise faded away. Something lingered there. You really wanted to know what it was.

She glanced away first, turning her attention back to Vander, but your pulse thrummed in your ears, loud and insistent.

“Aye, enough with all the ruckus,” Vander called out, his booming voice easily cutting through the squabbling. “You’re supposed to be adults now, eh? How come Isha’s better behaved than the lot of you? You’re all grown and graduated, even if we never thought we’d see the day.” He added the last part with a sly, teasing grin.

The table burst into uproar again, the teasing and banter ricocheting back at Vander.

Silco hummed from across the table, “I’m still not sure how we managed to clean that mess up.”

You tried to stay present, to laugh along with the others, but his words knocked the air from your lungs.

Graduation.

The word hit you like a stone, unearthing memories you’d buried deep. You could almost feel it again—the laughter that hung in the warm night air, the shimmer of stars above the city, and the way Vi had pulled you aside. The press of her hand on yours, the sharp, dizzying heat of her lips as they claimed yours like a secret only the two of you could keep.

Your throat tightened as you forced yourself to swallow the ache threatening to rise. You focused on the present, the clatter of plates and the chatter around you, but it didn’t help.

And then, you felt her eyes on you again.

You glanced up, and sure enough, Vi was looking.

There it was—that same knowing look, tangled in everything you couldn’t say out loud. Her brows furrowed just slightly, her jaw tightening as though she was holding something back.

What the fuck was she up to?

The Last Drop buzzed with life, music thumping through the speakers and spilling into the streets. It wasn’t just another party. This was a celebration—a proper Zaunite send-off for you, Powder, Ekko, and a few others who had somehow survived to see your graduation day. Families mingled, laughter and loud voices filling the air, while mismatched chairs and tables were dragged together to make room for everyone.

Powder’s arm was slung lazily around your shoulders, her cheek pressed against yours as she swayed side to side, microphone in hand. Her voice cracked mid-line, breaking into laughter that made you smile despite yourself.

Powder had never been much of a singer, but she made it impossible to resist. You joined in, your voice blending with hers, uneven and off-key.

It was one of those rare nights where nothing else seemed to matter—until you saw her.

Vi stood on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall like she didn’t belong to the chaos. A bottle of beer dangled casually from her fingers as her eyes locked on yours. She wasn’t smiling, wasn’t moving . Just watching.

More than anything, you wanted to press your lips against hers. To stop the world around from spinning. To satisfy that little desire of yours.

Yet you couldn’t.

Because that’s not what friends do.

Because you were supposed to hate Violet right now.

It had been over a week since the fight—long enough for the sting of it to fade but not the weight of it.

This fight wasn’t like the bickering you had with Powder or the arguments with Ekko. No, this had been something raw, biting, and far too personal.

And it still sat heavy in your chest, a tangled knot of anger, guilt, and something you couldn’t quite name.

Because who was Vi to get upset about your bad decisions? You never judged her for hers.

It wasn’t fair.

It bothered you more than it should have. Because you liked Vi—you really did. It wasn’t just a fleeting crush; it was the kind of feeling that had rooted itself deep, stretching back to childhood, growing stronger with time. No matter how hard you tried, it never seemed to go away.

But she always kept you at arm’s length, always pushed you away just enough to make you doubt yourself. And now, she was the mad one? How was that fair?

God forbid you wanted to try something new before graduation.

Maddie was a mutual friend between you and Ekko, and she’d invited you to hang out by the creek with her crowd. It wasn’t your usual group of people, but with Powder and Ekko off on their date night, it wasn’t like you had anything better to do.

The rocky quarry was cold, even with the fire Maddie’s friends had started. Its orange glow reflected off the still water below, casting flickering shadows across the uneven ground. The air smelled of smoke and charred wood, sharp and biting against the crisp night air.

Music thumped faintly from a portable speaker, its low bass barely cutting through the sound of laughter and clinking bottles. You sat on a flat rock near the edge, a beer bottle dangling from one hand as you tried not to cough from the joint Maddie had passed you.

It wasn’t your crowd, not really. Maddie was nice enough—but her friends? They were louder, wilder, the kind of kids who laughed a little too loudly and always seemed on the edge of doing something stupid. Powder probably would’ve fit in better than you did.

You forced yourself to laugh when they laughed, nodding along to their stories even when you didn’t get the jokes. But the joint burned harshly in your throat, and the alcohol made your head swim.

“Hey, you good?” Maddie asked, plopping down beside you.

“Yeah,” you lied. “This is fun.”

She grinned, nudging your arm, and offered you another hit. You hesitated but took it anyway, determined not to look out of place.

The night stretched on, blurring into a haze of smoke, music, and the spinning lights from someone’s flashlight. You weren’t sure when it started feeling too heavy—when the laughter began to grate or when the voices became too loud.

So what? You weren’t having fun. Who cared?

Not every trip was going to be a good one.

But things went from bad to worse when a car pulled up, its headlights cutting through the dark like searchlights. The beams blinded you before they clicked off, leaving the silhouettes of the car and its driver behind.

The glare of the headlights cut through the haze, piercing and unwelcome. You squinted against the brightness, trying to make out the shadowy figure stepping out of the car. The moment you recognized her, your stomach twisted into a tight knot.

Vi.

You ducked instinctively, shifting lower into the rocks and bushes, hoping the flickering firelight wouldn’t betray your hiding spot. But it was Vi—she always found you. One second, you were staring blearily at the water, trying to dissolve into the night, and the next, she was right there, pulling you to your feet.

If you’d been even a little more sober, you might have swooned. Her hands were warm, steadying you against the dizziness swaying your vision. For a split second, your hazy mind latched onto the way she held you, like an anchor. But then you saw the scowl pulling at her lips.

Her eyes burned with frustration, her jaw tight as she looked you over. Even through the muddled fog, you could tell she was annoyed. No, more than that. She was pissed. And yet... when her gaze softened, just barely, you felt your stomach flip in that infuriating way it always did around her.

Before you could protest, she started dragging you toward her car.

“What the hell?” you slurred, trying to plant your feet, though the ground seemed to shift beneath you. “What’re you doin’?”

“I’m taking you home,” she said flatly.

“What?”

“Come on.”

“Vi. No, I’m not going anywhere,” you snapped, voice cracking as you shook her grip. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“I am fine. I have it under control.”

Vi stopped, her grip tightening as she turned to face you fully. Her voice dropped lower, sharp but quiet. “You don’t have it under control.”

“Yes, I do,” you mumbled.

“You’re drunk.”

“So what?”

“So you don’t even know what you’re saying,” she snapped, her tone cutting through the haze.

“Oh, you know? You think you know me so well?” The words spilled out before you could catch them. “You think you know what’s good for me?”

She sighed heavily, muttering your name in a warning tone. “Just calm down—”

“No!” You cut her off, your voice rising. “You don’t get to decide what I do, Vi! You don’t get to swoop in and play saviour just because you feel like it.”

Maddie and her friends had turned to watch now, their curious gazes pinning you in place, making your face burn. And despite everything—despite the words bubbling on your tongue—you let Vi pull you away, her hand firm around your arm.

Your teeth ground together as you stalked to her car, every step sparking with indignation. Things between you had been unbearable lately, each interaction leaving you more wound up than the last. There was a time when you would’ve had endless patience for her, but now? Now it felt like she was one more weight pressing on your chest, one more thing you couldn’t figure out.

When she shut the car door behind you, the cold glass felt soothing against your temple as you leaned against the window.

“How’d you even find me?” you muttered, your voice low and bitter.

“Ekko told me,” she replied without looking at you, her tone clipped.

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Of course.”

“A thanks would be nice,” she said, her knuckles white against the steering wheel.

“For what? Embarrassing me?”

“You embarrassed yourself.”

“Right,” you scoffed.

“Well, sorry for trying to help you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Fuck, you’re impossible sometimes,” she muttered, shaking her head. “You should’ve just stayed home. These aren’t the kind of people—”

“Are you seriously going to turn this into a lecture?” you interrupted, your words a little slurred but sharp enough to sting. “Do you really feel like you’re in the position to be giving me shit about my bad decisions? You?”

Her head snapped toward you, her brow furrowing. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You hesitated, the fight draining out of you for just a moment. The words sat heavy on your tongue, the weight of her presence drowning out your resolve. She’d been pushing and pulling at you for months now , teasing something more but never following through.

And yet, no matter how mad she made you—no matter how deep she cut—you couldn’t stop feeling the way you did. You couldn’t stop wanting her.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, turning away to rest your head against the cool glass. The words you wanted to say stuck in your throat, a bitter ache joining the spinning in your head.

“Is everything okay?” Powder’s voice broke through the haze, grounding you back in the moment. Her worried gaze locked onto yours, soft but insistent.

For a second, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond. The words sat heavy in your chest, unwilling to come out. Instead, you gave her a small, tired smile—a silent reassurance you weren’t sure even you believed.

“Do you want a beer?” she asked, holding out her own cup. Her attention flicked between you and the lively crowd behind her as Isha grabbed the mic, joining Mylo and Vander in a loud, drunken chorus.

You shook your head. “No, it’s alright. I’m just going to grab some water… maybe step outside for a bit.”

Before you could turn, her hand caught yours. Concern flashed in her eyes, clearer this time, and it made your stomach twist.

“I’m fine, Pow,” you said, pulling your hand free gently. “Just need some air.”

Without waiting for her reply, you slipped away, weaving through the crowd and out the door before anyone else could stop you.

The chill of the night hit you immediately, a stark contrast to the heat and noise inside. The streets of Zaun buzzed softly, a symphony of distant voices and the occasional whistle of wind. You leaned against the railing outside the bar, letting the cool air sting your cheeks and settle the unease in your chest.

It had been a long day. Too long, really.

You tilted your head back, staring up at the sky—hazy and grey like it couldn’t decide whether it wanted to rain or stay dry. The faint glow of the streetlights was enough to keep the dark at bay but not enough to chase away the shadows clinging to your thoughts.

“Thought you might’ve made a run for it.”

The voice startled you, low and familiar, cutting through the quiet.

Your head snapped to the side, and there she was—Vi. She leaned against the wall a few feet away, hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets, her posture casual, but her eyes… her eyes were locked on you.

“No running,” you said, trying to muster a smile. “Just needed a breather.”

She nodded and stepped closer, the scuffed soles of her boots scraping against the concrete. “Can’t blame you. It’s a lot in there.”

You hummed in agreement, turning back to the horizon. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched her lean on the railing beside you, her profile outlined in the dim glow spilling from the bar windows.

The silence stretched between you, but for once, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

After a moment, Vi cleared her throat, her fingers fidgeting with something in her pocket. “I, uh… got you something.”

You blinked, thrown off by the sudden statement. “You did?”

Without a word, she pulled out a small box and held it out to you. Her knuckles brushed against yours briefly, sending a jolt through your system when you took it.

“Go on,” she said.

Curiosity warred with apprehension as you took the box. It was simple—nothing fancy, just a plain black case. Your hands trembled slightly as you opened it, the hinges creaking faintly.

Inside was a ring, nestled in a cushion of fabric. The gemstone caught the light just right, glinting in shades of blue and green. It was unmistakable—the ring you’d admired months ago, the one you’d only ever mentioned to Powder.

“Vi…”

She shifted, rubbing the back of her neck, her usual confidence replaced by something softer, almost shy. “Figured you deserved something nice. You’ve been through enough.” A pause. “I’ve put you through enough.”

The words hit harder than you expected, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at her.

Did she know?

Could she see how much space she occupied in your head, how her presence both thrilled and tormented you?

She must know.

You slid the ring onto your finger, watching it catch the faint glow of the streetlights. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Vi huffed a small laugh, her gaze dropping to the ground. “You look good,” she said suddenly, the words almost rushed. “Like, really good.”

You snorted, the tension breaking slightly. “Thanks, bonehead. I tried not to disappoint. Don’t want to ruin your reputation with all those girls you bring around.”

The jab was meant to be playful—a callback to the jokes you and Ekko often threw her way. But her reaction wasn’t what you expected. She stiffened, her jaw tightening.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” she said, her tone unusually earnest.

You frowned, the lightness of the moment slipping through your fingers. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She hesitated, her gaze fixed on the ground as if searching for the right words. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “For the same reason I haven’t had a drink in months.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy and raw.

Your chest tightened, a mix of confusion and hope clawing at you. “What do you… Vi?”

She looked up at you then, her eyes unguarded for once. “I want to be better. For my family. For you.”

The vulnerability in her voice took your breath away.

“I’m sorry for last week,” she continued, her voice soft as she moved closer. “I’ve been… an asshole.”

“You’re always an asshole,” you taunted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You weren’t sure how else to approach this.

Vi chuckled, the tension easing slightly. “More of one than usual. Better?”

“A little.”

“How do I get you to forgive me?”

You smiled, warmth unfurling in your chest like a slow-burning ember. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Her hand grazed your shoulder, the touch featherlight, as if testing whether you’d melt under her fingers. You leaned into her instinctively, like a plant drawn to sunlight. It was new, this tenderness from her, but somehow it felt like home. A strange, beautiful comfort that was exactly what you were aching for.

“Is it terrible that I really want to kiss you right now?” Her thumb traced the line of your collarbone, slow and deliberate, before cupping your cheek. Her palm was warm against your skin, grounding you in the moment while the world around you blurred into hazy irrelevance.

Her hand trailed up your collarbone and rested on your cheek. You were so close you could feel her breath on your face. You turned the rest of your body, finally fully facing her. Your chests were almost touching from the proximity, and so were your lips. You could feel your heart beating so loud in your ribcage you thought she could hear it.

“Definitely not,” you whispered, barely able to trust your own voice.

You turned to fully face her , closing the small distance between you . Your chest brushed against hers, the soft hitch of her breath almost louder than the pounding in your ears. You wondered if she could hear your heart, wild and untamed beneath your ribs, or if it was just you unravelling in her presence.

For a second, she hesitated, her lips ghosting over yours, not quite touching. The tension was electric, a charge that made the air feel thick and heavy, like the world itself was holding its breath. You closed your eyes, letting yourself fall into the anticipation, surrendering to the pull that had always been there.

When her lips finally pressed to yours, it was slow—achingly so. Her movements were unhurried, like she was memorizing the feel of you, the way your breath hitched, the softness of your lips against hers. Your hands found their way to her arms, fingers curling over the muscle there, marvelling at the juxtaposition of strength and gentleness. She brought you closer, her free hand slipping to the small of your back, holding you as if she were afraid you might slip away.

She pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, her thumb brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The warm summer breeze kissed your skin, but you barely noticed. You were too busy drinking her in—the way the string lights overhead reflected in her eyes, turning them into pools of gold, the flush on her cheeks, the way her lips parted as if she had something more to say but couldn’t find the words.

You didn’t care. Words didn’t matter anymore.

Her name slipped from your lips in a whisper you barely recognized, a plea you hadn’t meant to voice.

And then her lips were on yours again, fiercer this time. You responded without thinking, arms wrapping around her neck as though pulling her closer might make you whole. She matched your urgency, her hands firm as they pressed you flush against her, anchoring you in the moment. She kissed like she fought—with passion, with intent, with a determination that left you breathless.

When she broke away, it wasn’t to retreat but to trace a path down your jaw, her lips exploring the sensitive skin of your neck. Each kiss, each gentle scrape of her teeth, sent shivers down your spine. You gasped her name, your fingers tangling in her hair to pull her back to you.

Her eyes were dark when they met yours again, desire simmering just beneath the surface. Her lips were swollen, her breaths uneven, and she looked at you like you were something she couldn’t quite believe was real.

“Fuck,” she breathed, “I want you. Really bad.”

“You’ve always had me.”

She kissed you again, this time with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. Her hands roamed, each touch setting your skin ablaze until you were sure you’d never be the same. It was dizzying, intoxicating—a dream you never wanted to wake from.

Across the table, Vi was still looking at you.

You weren’t sure how long it had been—seconds, minutes?—but the weight of her gaze pressed down on you like it could peel back the layers you’d so carefully wrapped around yourself.

Your fingers tightened around the fork in your hand, the metal cool against your palm. Look away, you told yourself. Just look away. But you couldn’t.

Her expression was unreadable, her jaw set, and her brows drawn just slightly enough to make her look... almost regretful. Almost. It made your heart plunge. Even if you already had that sinking feeling she did regret it, when she left you that summer, but it still hurt all the same.

You tore your eyes away, focusing hard on the plate in front of you. The food looked perfect—bright, warm, comforting. But you had no appetite.

“...You alright?” Powder’s voice cut through the haze, and you blinked, realizing she’d been watching you. Her head tilted, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah, fine,” you said quickly, forcing a smile that felt all wrong on your face when you felt Isha place her hand over yours. “Just tired.”

You could feel Vi’s eyes on you still.

“It wasn’t that long ago,” Vander was saying, his deep voice rolling over the table. “Feels like it, though. Never thought we’d make it through that night in one piece.”

“Speak for yourself,” Powder chimed in, grinning. “I think I came out of it looking pretty great.”

Mylo snorted. “You came out of it covered in glitter and confetti.”

“Exactly,” Powder shot back, shoving him lightly, and the table erupted into laughter.

Vi shifted in her chair, leaning back slightly. “Some people had more exciting nights than others,” she remarked, her tone light but razor-sharp. “If I remember right, someone disappeared for a while.”

The room went quiet.

You looked up sharply, meeting her gaze again, and there it was—something burning in her eyes, daring you to say something.

“What are you talking about?” Claggor asked, looking between you and Vi.

Vi shrugged casually, but her grip on her glass betrayed her. What the fuck was she playing at? “Nothing. Just saying, some people had... priorities.”

The words hung in the air like smoke, curling into the silence.

Your chest tightened under the weight of everyone’s stares. You forced your voice to stay even.“If you’ve got something to say, Vi, just say it.”

Her lips curled into a smirk that didn’t meet her eyes. “No. I’m good.”

You leaned forward, tension crackling in the air. “No, seriously. You clearly have a lot to say about that night. Why don’t you go ahead and spell it out for everyone?”

Vi’s chair creaked as she leaned forward, her voice low and steady. “Fine. You went missing. Nobody knew where you were. Figured you’d be with your friends, but no. You were off… handling your own business, weren’t you?”

“Vi—” Vander started.

Your jaw tightened. “Maybe you should look in a mirror before pointing fingers,” you shot back, the words escaping before you could think. “Because last I checked, you were drunk and sulking in the bottom of some mug—”

Vi’s scoff cut through the air like a slap. “Oh my god. Not this again.” She laughed, sharp and hollow. “Some of us actually enjoyed the night.”

“Enjoyed it?” you spat. “Is that what you call it?”

“At least I wasn’t sneaking around like I had something to hide!”

Your eyes narrowed, the fire in them flaring. “That’s fucking rich, coming from you. Considering the fact that you can’t ever grow up and actually take responsibility for your shit.”

Her chair scraped loudly as she leaned forward, “Grow up? Weren’t you the one giving me the silent treatment all weekend?”

“Because I didn’t have anything to say to you!”

“Oh, really? Sure sounds like you’ve got plenty to say now!” Vi’s voice cracked like a whip, the sarcasm cutting deeper than you expected.

“Because you’ve been acting all weird since I got here!” The words were out before you could stop them, a raw truth that had been burning inside you all day. It wasn’t just the awkwardness—it was her presence, everything about it, that had been eating at you.

“Weird how?”

“You keep acting like we’re friends—”

“Are we not friends?”

“Not the last time I fucking checked!” The words escaped in a snap, too loud for the quiet that had overtaken the table. “Friends don’t... they don’t—”

“They don’t what?” Her eyes were hard, daring you to finish it, daring you to bring it all back up. She knew exactly what you were going to say.

“They don’t leave , Violet.” You felt the air grow thick around you. Your voice dropped lower, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “They don’t fucking leave and act like nothing’s wrong. They sure as hell don’t spring out bullshit like this and pretend it’s nothing.”

“I—”

“They don’t pretend to care when they don’t,” you interrupted, your voice rising now, a sense of finality creeping in. You were done dancing around it. Done avoiding it. “And don’t act like this is some fucking coincidence, Vi. You left. And you know it. And for what? Because you’re a coward? We can fight about this forever and still end up right here again and again.”

Her jaw tightened at that, but her lips barely parted. She tried to steady herself, but you saw the crack—the tiny flicker of something that couldn’t hide in the cold light of the argument. “But I do care,” she said, softer than she meant to.

“No, you don’t. Because if you did you would’ve taken me seriously a long time ago.”

Around you, the table remained frozen, the once-familiar chatter now swallowed by the storm of your words.

Your chest tightened, breaths coming too quickly as heat rose to your face. Your hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white, but they trembled, betraying you. You clenched them into fists, trying to steady yourself. The cold weight of embarrassment crashed over you, thick and suffocating, pulling at the pit of your stomach. The sting of tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you fought them back, refusing to show weakness. Not here. Not now.

“I need the bathroom,” you muttered.

The words were barely a whisper, but they felt loud in the stillness, a fragile escape from the chaos you were drowning in. You didn’t wait for a response. You pushed back from the table so violently that your chair scraped loudly against the floor, a harsh sound that seemed to echo in the tense silence. You stood up, your legs shaky, and your vision blurred for a second as you tried to steady yourself.

But just as you were about to leave, a small, insistent tug at your dress made you freeze. You paused, tension coiling in your chest, and glanced down. Isha’s wide, innocent eyes met yours, filled with concern and confusion, but she didn’t speak. She just held on for a heartbeat, her tiny hand clutching at the fabric.

You couldn’t bear to see her face, the concern too pure, too innocent for the mess you’d just created. You could already feel the shame settling in, the weight of everything crashing over you. Her eyes stayed locked on yours, silently asking if you were okay, but all you could do was nod quickly, avoiding the pleading in her gaze.

Without another word, you turned away, the sound of your shoes hitting the floor sharp and heavy as you walked toward the hallway. Your heart pounded in your chest, a rhythm that matched your quickening breaths, and you didn’t look back.

You'd spent your entire summer tied between bedsheets and lies. The knots in your chest were growing, the bitterness between your teeth spreading like a cavity. The sun was your only witness to the way you were falling apart at the hands of Violet. She was unravelling you, pulling you to pieces, limb by limb, with her teeth as they gnawed at your skin—biting and biting and pulling and pulling, taking everything out from you.

But you were so in love. You were sure that’s what it was. You were so in love with her and with this strange feeling residing within you that you couldn't help but think that if this was the way things were going to be from now on, so be it.

Her touch was electric, sparking something deep inside you that refused to be extinguished. When she pulled you into stolen moments—pressed against walls, her lips brushing yours with an urgency that made your head spin—you forgot about the world outside. You forgot about Powder. About Ekko. About the lies you were spinning just to be with her.

It was never planned. She’d come into your room late at night, your parents always let her in, her footsteps soft and deliberate, her voice a low murmur of your name that sent shivers down your spine. And then she was there, so close you could feel her warmth, her breath fanning your cheek as she whispered, “Can I stay?”

You never said no.

It was all tenderness. Her fingers would trace lazy patterns on your skin as the two of you lay tangled together, the world melting away outside your window. She kissed you with a care that made you believe, for just a moment, that this wasn’t wrong. That you weren’t betraying anyone.

Her laugh, soft and rare, became the soundtrack to your summer. You’d tease her about her scars, and she’d roll her eyes, calling you insufferable before tugging you closer with a smirk. “You’re lucky I like you,” she’d say, her voice light but her gaze heavy with something deeper.

But even then, cracks were forming beneath the surface.

You ignored the way her jaw tensed whenever Powder’s name came up when you told her what you did in the day. You pretended not to notice how her touch lingered a little too long as if she was trying to commit you to memory. And when she’d pull away in the mornings, murmuring some half-hearted excuse about needing air or checking on something, you let her go without question, even though her absence left a hollow ache in your chest.

You spent your days with Powder when the afternoon sun was merciless and drenched everything in a sticky warmth that clung to your skin. You followed her into the tiny ice cream shop on the corner, grateful for the blast of cold air as the door swung shut behind you. She immediately made a beeline for the counter, peering at the flavours.

“You know you’re just gonna get strawberry,” you said, leaning your arms on the glass display.

Powder rolled her eyes at you. “Maybe I’m feeling adventurous today.” But, true to form, she ordered strawberry, with a generous drizzle of chocolate syrup on top.

The two of you wandered back outside, ice creams in hand, the salty breeze from the beach brushing against your skin. Powder was chatting about something—maybe the latest gossip from your old neighbourhood or some ridiculous scheme Ekko was planning—but you weren’t really listening. Your thoughts were far away.

“Okay, spill,” Powder said suddenly, cutting through your haze.

You blinked, looking over at her. “What?”

She stopped walking and turned to face you fully, her blue eyes narrowing in a way that made you squirm. “You’ve been weird lately. Like, really weird. And I know you’re seeing someone.”

Your heart dropped. “What are you talking about? I’m not—”

“Oh, please.” Powder rolled her eyes, licking a stray drop of chocolate syrup from her thumb. “You think I haven’t noticed the hickeys? Or the fact that you’re always sneaking off? Or how you’re suddenly a terrible liar?”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t even try,” she interrupted, grinning now. “You’re so obvious, it’s embarrassing.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. Powder knew you too well, and she wasn’t wrong.

“I’m not gonna push,” she continued, taking another bite of her ice cream. “You don’t have to tell me who it is or anything. Just… I don’t know. Be careful, okay? If they hurt you, I’ll deal with them myself.”

You forced a laugh, hoping it sounded casual. “I think I can handle myself, Pow.”

“I’m serious,” she said, her voice softening. “You’re my best friend. I just want you to be happy.”

It wasn’t like you wanted to keep it all to yourself, but you had to admit, you enjoyed the rush. The thrill of sneaking around, of stolen touches and whispered words in the dark . Of secluded meetings where the world melted away, leaving only the two of you. You even started to understand why Powder and Ekko had kept their relationship a secret for so long before telling anyone. There was something intoxicating about the secrecy, about having something—someone—all to yourself.

Still, the guilt lurked in the back of your mind, a constant shadow in the brightness of those moments.

You could feel its weight one night as you lay beside Vi, the room quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside your window. The moonlight poured in through the swaying blinds, catching the sheen of sweat on your skin. You could still feel her hands on you, the warmth of her lips lingering in places you’d never forget.

But something shifted in the air as you spoke.

“Powder knows,” you said softly, your voice barely breaking the stillness.

Vi stiffened beside you, her arms tightening for just a moment before going rigid. You felt the change immediately, like the comfort of her embrace had turned into a cage.

“What?” she muttered, her voice panicked, strained. She pulled away from you, her sudden movement leaving you cold despite the warmth of the summer night.

You propped yourself up on one elbow, watching as she sat up and ran a hand through her hair. The way she avoided your gaze made your chest ache. “I mean, she knows I’m seeing someone. She doesn’t know it’s you,” you clarified, trying to ease the tension. “But she’s smart, Vi. I’m sure she’ll figure it out.”

“Oh,” was all she said, her tone flat.

You frowned, sitting up to face her fully. “Is that so terrible?”

She finally turned to you, her expression unreadable, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Well… yeah.”

“What? Why?” you asked, your voice rising slightly, a mix of confusion and hurt.

“It’s just…” She trailed off, her hands falling into her lap. You watched as she fidgeted with the hem of the sheet, her knuckles brushing against her thighs, her usual confidence faltering. “This isn’t… I mean, it’s not supposed to be…”

“Not supposed to be what?” you pressed, your heart sinking as the silence stretched between you.

“Never mind,” she muttered, her voice clipped, and she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

Your chest tightened as you watched her get dressed again, searching for her clothes in the mess of your room. “Where are you going?”

“I just remembered—I promised Jayce I’d meet him for drinks,” she said, her tone casual, but the way she avoided your gaze betrayed her unease.

“Drinks?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem?”

“No, I just… uh, will I see you tomorrow?”

“Maybe. I dunno.”

Her answer hit you like a slap, the indifference in her tone cutting deeper than you expected. You opened your mouth to say something, to ask her to stay, but the words tangled in your throat. She was already halfway to the door.

And then she left, shutting it behind her without so much as a glance back.

You sat there in stunned silence, the warmth of her presence already fading. The sheets felt colder, and the air seemed heavier. You stared at the door, replaying the conversation in your mind , wondering where you’d gone wrong.

You should’ve kept your mouth shut.

You didn’t see her for a few days. Each hour of her absence stretched unbearably long, her silence gnawing at you like a wound that wouldn’t heal. It wasn’t until you were at Powder’s house for a sleepover that you saw her again, and the encounter was nothing short of jarring.

You were in the bathroom, brushing your teeth when the door swung open abruptly.

“Shit, sorry,” Vi said, freezing in the doorway, her eyes wide. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Figures.” you muttered as you met her startled gaze in the mirror.

Her presence made your chest tighten, anger and longing colliding in a mess of emotions. She lingered for a moment , her hand gripping the doorknob so tightly her knuckles whitened. Her eyes darted to the floor before she stepped back and shut the door behind her.

You stood there, toothbrush suspended midair, the brief encounter leaving you shaken. Your grip tightened on the sink as you stared at your reflection, trying to steady yourself, but all you could think about was her.

Ten minutes later, her bedroom door was locked.

You didn’t know how you ended up there, pressed against her bed, but none of it mattered in the heat of the moment. Her movements were frantic, her hands rough and unrelenting as they held you in place. One hand cupped your mouth, muffling your gasps and cries, while the other gripped your hips, anchoring you to the mattress.

Her breath was hot against your skin as she licked a line up your centre, her tongue moving with a precision that made you shudder. Vi’s eyes stayed locked on you, watching the way your chest heaved and your fingers fumbled for something to hold onto. The sheets bunched beneath your grip as her nose brushed against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

You felt your breath stagger. Her mouth moved against you with a desperation you hadn’t felt before, like she was trying to drown out her own thoughts by consuming you entirely.

Her tongue worked relentlessly, warm and wet as it flicked against you in ways that stole the air from your lungs. She was vicious, her teeth scraping lightly, her lips sealing over you with desperation that bordered on need. You tried to stay quiet—the walls were thin, and you weren’t an idiot—but it was impossible to stifle every sound.

It was a miracle that the woman you fucked wasn’t a talker half of the time.

Your head pressed back against the comforter, and your body arched into her touch, unable to resist the pull of her movements. A broken gasp escaped you, muffled only by the fingers pressed against your lips. The lewd, wet sounds of her mouth against you filled the room, driving you closer to the edge.

Vi’s eyes never left you, and when she moved her hand from your mouth to tug at your shirt, you realized she wanted more. Her fingers fumbled with the fabric, her grip firm but not rough.

Your hand covered hers, “Vi—” you managed to whisper, but the way her fingers flexed back against yours stole whatever protest you had.

“ Oh, ” you keened, the sound spilling from your lips before you could stop it. Your chest heaved, and your free hand clutched at the sheets as heat spread through your body.

She shifted lower, pulling her hand away from yours, spreading you open further with her fingers before her tongue dipped deeper. She sucked on your clit, her lips closing over it with a force that had you gasping her name. Your hand found her hair, tangling in her locks as your hips bucked against her face.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper. The room felt too hot, the air too thick, as if the walls themselves were closing in.

What Vi gave you wasn’t just desire—it was something raw, frantic like she was trying to pour everything she couldn’t say into every stroke of her tongue and press of her lips. Her nails dug into your thighs, holding you steady as she pulled you apart, piece by trembling piece.

When you finally came undone, she didn’t let go immediately. She lingered, her tongue moving slower now , as if reluctant to stop.

Your gut twisted with unease and she finally pulled back, her forehead resting against your thigh, her breath warm and uneven against your skin.

She stayed there for a moment, her shoulders trembling slightly.

“Vi?” you whispered, your voice hoarse and uncertain.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she climbed up beside you, pulling you into her arms with a gentleness that went against all the ferocity from moments ago. It made your chest ache.

Her hands traced idle patterns on your back, and her lips brushed against your temple, but even in her embrace, you could feel the tension radiating from her.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than just a momentary lapse.

It felt like a goodbye.

Three days later, you found the note.

Sorry, can’t keep doing this. Take care.

The sound of your feet hitting the floor was sharp, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You couldn’t stand being in the same room with her for another second. Without thinking, you turned on your heel and made a beeline for the door.

Powder was already on you. “Hey—wait! What the fuck was that all about?” She followed closely, her voice softening with concern.

“I just need a minute,” you muttered, the words coming out more broken than you intended, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at her.

“Please, talk to me,” she called out, grabbing your arm before you could open the bathroom door. You flinched, the touch grounding you against the whirlwind of your emotions. Powder gently turned you around, her gaze locking onto yours. The concern in her eyes was sharp, but it softened when she noticed the tears staining your cheeks. The ones you’d been fighting back all night.

“I’m sorry,” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush, but it felt like they weren’t enough.

Powder’s eyes softened at the apology, but she was still searching for answers. “For what?”

“I’m sorry, Pow,” you repeated, your voice trembling.

She blinked, shaking her head slightly, “Why would you—”

“It was Vi,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. Your chest felt tight like something was gripping around your heart, squeezing the air from your lungs. “The person I was seeing over the summer... it was her. I... I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Powder’s face, usually so open and easy to read, flickered with something unreadable for a moment. But then, without skipping a beat, she spoke, her voice calm. “I know.”

“What?”

“I knew.”

Of course, she knew. Why wouldn’t she know? You scoffed involuntarily. A bitter, hollow laugh bubbled up in your chest, but it died before it reached your lips. Of course, she’d figured it out. You’d never been good at hiding things from Powder. She’d known you better than anyone for as long as you could remember.

Seeing the way your face shifted, Powder seemed to understand the storm of thoughts going through your head. She continued, quieter now, but her words landed with surprising ease. “You’ve always had a thing for her... I just thought you’d tell me when you were ready. I wasn’t going to push.”

The floodgates started to crack open, the guilt and the ache in your chest spilling out in fragmented pieces. “I wanted to tell you,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. “I really did... but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what I was doing—what I was feeling. And I didn’t want to hurt you.” The last part came out in a broken whisper, the pain of it digging into you like a knife.

Powder’s gaze softened, but she didn’t say anything right away. You could feel her presence steadying you, like she was holding onto you in the way she always did when things felt like they were falling apart.

“Come on, stop apologizing. You sound like a loser.”

But you couldn’t stop. You were choking on it. On the guilt. The regret. The frustration. You’d kept this secret for so long, and now everything had cracked wide open, splintering everything around you. “I should’ve told you first thing,” you choked out, your chest heavy with regret, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I fucked everything up. I ruined Christmas dinner, I ruined everything.”

You didn’t mean to raise your voice at the table. It just... happened. The tears were close again, stinging the back of your eyes, and your hands shook violently as you tried to make sense of it all. You shouldn’t have come back here.

“I’ll leave. I’ll go.”

The words didn’t even feel real as they left your mouth. You didn’t even know where you’d go.

But before you could turn away, Powder’s hand shot out, stopping you cold. She wasn’t angry. No, this wasn’t about anger. It was something else—something steadier. Her voice was quiet but firm, unwavering. “And go where?” she asked, a little smile pulling at the corner of her lips, almost like she was trying to soften the weight of your spiralling thoughts. “You’re staying right here. You’re not leaving.”

She exhaled a laugh that sounded real for the first time all night, and it cut through the tension in the air. The smile that formed on your lips was small, but it was there. “Besides,” she added, “if anyone ruined Christmas, it was Mylo’s shitty cookies anyway.”

That did it. It was the most normal thing you’d heard all night, and it gave you just enough space to breathe.

“We’re gonna watch a movie soon,” she said, her voice softer now. “Once everyone’s done eating. If you need a minute... you’ve got plenty of time.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. Your throat felt like it was tightening again, but you didn’t have it in you to argue. “Thanks,” you whispered, your voice tight, raw. “I just need a few minutes... to think.”

Powder’s gaze softened even more as she stepped back, her expression unreadable for a moment. “I’ll deal with my sister and then we’ll talk about this later. There’s a lot to unpack here.”

The words lingered in the air between you, but there was no anger there. No blame. Only understanding—like she knew this wasn’t something you could just fix in a minute. It made your heart ache even more, that she wasn’t pushing. That she wasn’t leaving you to drown in this alone.

With that, she left you standing in the hallway, the door creaking softly behind her. You didn’t look back, the weight of her words lingering on your shoulders like a heavy cloak. It felt like everyone in the house was still watching, their eyes pressing down on you. The silence in the house seemed louder than the argument had been.

Without thinking, you pushed open the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind you with a force that left your ears ringing. You locked the door, the click of the lock filling the space with a strange finality. It was just you now, and you couldn’t escape what was happening inside your own head. The sound of your pulse thudded in your ears, drowning out everything else.

You leaned heavily against the sink, your hands gripping the porcelain so tightly that your knuckles ached.

“Fuck,” you whispered, barely able to hear yourself over the frantic beating of your heart.

You stared at your reflection for what felt like hours, trying to calm the storm in your mind. Your face was flushed, your emotions a mess of anger, confusion, and exhaustion. You hated the way things had spiralled tonight. Hated that you’d let it get this far. Hated that you’d lashed out, that you did it in front of Isha and the rest of the family.

But as much as you wanted to bury it, as much as you wanted to push everything down and move on, you couldn’t. You couldn’t lie to yourself. What you really felt was hurt.

A soft knock at the door broke through your thoughts, sharp against the silence. You froze and swore under your breath.

“Hey, are you okay?” Claggor’s voice was gentle, hesitant like he wasn’t sure whether to intrude. “Just... just wanna make sure you're alright.”

You ran a hand over your hair, “Yeah, I just need to... just need a minute. I’ll be fine. Sorry.”

The pause that followed felt like it lasted forever. You heard him sigh before his footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving you alone again. But you didn’t move.

Suddenly, there was another knock at the door. This one was different, more insistent. You thought it was Powder again—

You opened the door quickly, but the second it swung open, you were met with a wall of heat, and before you could think, lips were on yours.

Vi.

The shock of it made your breath catch in your throat, a jolt of heat flooding through you. She pushed into you with a force that made your head spin, her body pressing against yours as if she couldn’t get close enough. Her lips were hungry, desperate as if trying to drown out something—something that had been brewing between you two for far too long.

Everything you’d been holding in—the anger, the frustration, the confusion—came rushing out in a rush of heat and tension. You responded instinctively, your hands finding her arms and pulling her closer. She felt so real, so tangible at that moment, like she was a part of you you’d been missing without knowing it. Her grip on you was tight, almost painful as if she was trying to force her way back into your world.

She muttered something against your lips—quiet, persistent, over and over. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The words burned against your mouth, each one feeling like it was meant for you to swallow, to take in and process like some kind of penance. You didn’t stop, though. You couldn’t. You kissed her harder, deeper, your own emotions spilling out as you pulled her into you, letting the anger twist into something darker, something reckless.

The door slammed shut behind you with a force that made the walls rattle, and you imagined her kicking it closed, her body language sharp, desperate, like she couldn’t get away from what she was doing.

But just as suddenly as it had started, Vi pulled away, gasping for air, her breath ragged against your lips. Her eyes were wild, dark, but there was something else there too—something you couldn’t place. She wasn’t looking at you; she was looking through you as if she was trying to piece something together in her head.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You hissed, your voice low and rough, the words escaping before you could stop them. Your chest heaved with, heart pounding in your throat. “You don’t get to come in here and—”

“I’m sorry, I know,” she muttered, cutting you off. Her voice was strained, full of frustration and something else—guilt, maybe. “I’ve been... fuck. I’m sorry.”

Your mind spun, trying to make sense of it all, but the words felt hollow. It didn’t change the fact that she’d barged in, that this... whatever it was, was happening now. “You should be,” you snapped, the words sharp, your chest still tight with the weight of everything—of the anger and the hurt, and the confusion that had never really gone away.

“I don’t wanna let anyone down anymore. I don’t wanna let you down. I just... I didn’t think I was ready for this, for you," she breathed, her voice trembling just slightly. “I didn’t know how to deal with how I felt. I’ve always fucked things up, and this... this feels like another thing I’m about to ruin. Because I know you like me. And I like you too. A lot.”

“You shouldn’t have come at me like that tonight... Not like... that,” you said, voice quieter now, almost a whisper.

Vi nodded, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I know. I messed up. But I just... I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to fix it.”

You rolled your eyes, the corner of your mouth betraying a small grin. You couldn’t help it—you were a goner. Too far gone, far too smitten, tangled in your feelings for her. She could probably destroy you a dozen times over, and you’d still find yourself wanting more.

You moved closer, placing your hands over her chest before gently cupping her face. You willed her to believe you, forcing yourself to be brave even as the words felt foreign in your mouth. "One more. I’ll give you one more chance, Vi."

“That’s all I need,” she whispered, her voice low, full of intensity.

In an instant, the distance between you collapsed. One second, she was all taut, coiled tension, and the next, she was on top of you, her lips hot against your neck, leaving a trail of fire down your skin. One hand tangled in your hair, the other already lifting your skirt as her fingers brushed dangerously close, matching the rhythm of her tongue's movements against your pulse.

Her weight on top of you, even with clothes still between you, felt familiar. It was all the little things—the way she moved, the way her hand slipped down your leg, teasing, pulling back just as you thought you’d finally get what you wanted. Her kiss was fierce, her body pressing into yours in a way that made you feel both vulnerable and alive.

You realized just how much you’d missed this—the feel of her, the way she made your heart race and your breath hitch. The nights you had spent alone, replaying moments like these in your mind, when she would slip into your dreams like a ghost.

There had been nights—like that summer at Jayce’s and Mel’s engagement party—when she had drawn you to the edge again and again, leaving you gasping and frustrated, only to make you ache for more. You weren’t proud of it, but you'd replayed that night in your mind over and over when loneliness crept in—on bad days, or when you drank too much, and the restless feeling lingered even after you’d gotten yourself off. Nothing had ever compared to the way she made you feel.

It made you wonder—did she ever feel the same? Did she ever ache for you the way you had ached for her?

The bathroom was a reckless choice for this. But then again, life was too short for second-guessing. Clothes were discarded hastily, hands colliding with fabric, a belt buckle clanging against the floor. Every movement felt frantic, raw, desperate. She didn’t let you go, her body against yours as her fingers found their way to your skin, her breath hot and heavy on your neck.

“I miss you,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I miss you too.”

“Sorry I’m a dick.”

“I wouldn’t change a thing.”

You swear you would be in peace if it wasn’t for her. But this kept you on your toes, you guessed. The way you liked it.

part one

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v1sexual · 4 months ago

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casual ⩩ vi (arcane)

casual relationship with vi headcanons !

note : heavily inspired by stuff that happened between me and my current wlw situationship :| everything has been tweaked and glorified tho

content warning : nsfw themes?¿ (no smut), swearing

ꕀ you never really got the hype of dating apps, but after enough encouragement (and alcohol) from your friends you eventually downloaded it. and on that fateful night, you matched with casual vi !

ꕀ casual vi ! made the first move, she sent you a message as soon as your profiles matched. she started the conversation with the cheesiest pick up line you’ve ever heard (or seen in this case).

ꕀ you and casual vi ! hit it off and immediately became… friends ? you didn’t really know what to call whatever it is ya’ll have.

ꕀ causal vi ! who actually ghosted you right after you two started to get to know each other. she did reply two days later, apologizing that she didn’t mean to leave you on delivered.

ꕀ casual vi ! who takes so long to respond to your messages, but she will be blowing your notifications on insta up. liking and viewing everything on your stories, she’s always the first viewer (and liker).

ꕀ casual vi ! who apologized for taking decades to answer your texts, she then proceeds to explain that she’s a phone call person. she asked you right then and there if she call you.

ꕀ you and casual vi ! eventually got closer as the days go by. you two had daily phone calls that would last hours, ya’ll would even fall asleep on call.

ꕀ one day casual vi ! mentioned that she wanted to get a tattoo. she asked you what should she get done and where, you suggested a chest tattoo (right in between the valleys of her breast). you didn’t really want to be the one to choose what gets tattooed on her skin, so you shrugged it off and told her to choose the piece herself.

ꕀ casual vi ! who sends you a picture of the tattoo after she got it done that day. the hem of her tank top wedged between her teeth, the underside of her breasts were visible but the rest were hidden by her tank.

ꕀ ever since then, casual vi ! would always send you pictures of any body modification she gets. any new piercing and tattoo she gets you’ll definitely be sent a picture.

ꕀ casual vi ! who got nipple piercings and didn’t even hesitate to show you a picture of her tits, the nipples freshly pierced. it wasn’t really sexual or anything but boy did it make your heart skip a beat.

ꕀ one day you decided to get back at casual vi ! and sent her a picture of your new tattoos, one at the side of your breast and one at your bikini line.

ꕀ she definitely calls you babe, baby, shortcake, sweetness.

ꕀ you two had your first date (? you didn’t really know what to call it) at jerichos. boy were you gobsmacked when you saw her personally for the first time, all i can say is the photos did not do her muscles justice.

ꕀ casual vi ! who purposely wore a white wifebeater, no bra (the outline of her nipple piercings visible through the wife fabric), black cargos (it had doodles and abstract artwork painted with what looked like neon purple and blue paint) that hung dangerously low on her hips, and a pair of doc marten’s boots.

ꕀ as your eyes indiscreetly ogle casual vi !, she took the opportunity to check you at as well. her gaze taking you in.

ꕀ casual vi ! who was (surprisingly), not bad company. she’s actually pretty chatty, had a great sense of humour, and easy to get along with. you two pretty much hit it off, and practically became friends.

ꕀ casual vi ! who offered to drop you off at home. she drove a sleek, black motorcycle (which didn’t surprise you at all). she handed you one of the helmets as you mounted the vehicle.

ꕀ casual vi ! who boldly guided your arms, wrapping them around her torso. “hold on tight shortcake.” she grinned, before revving up the motorcycle.

ꕀ casual vi ! who may or may not have taken the long way back to your place.

ꕀ when casual vi ! finally dropped you home, she stole a quick kiss on your forehead. “text me when you get home, yeah?” you told her, she gave you two thumbs up before speeding away.

ꕀ you shot casual vi ! a quick text, thanking her for a great time and letting her know that you’ll love to go out for a second time (you also reminded her to text you when she got home).

ꕀ and that was the last time you’ve ever seen or heard from casual vi !

you held a small grudge against her. it’s been a week since you last heard from her, you knew that she didn’t get into any accident since she’s posted a couple of stuff on her stories and she likes your posts as well. you guessed that she probably didn’t feel the same as you did. eventually, you just let it go and decided to move on. i mean, what’s the point of holding on right?

ꕀ casual vi ! who decided to rise from the dead and text you a week later after no contact. and so, the cycle begins.

#vi x reader #vi arcane x reader #arcane #arcane act three #vi arcane #arcane smut #jinx arcane #violet arcane #caitlyn kiramman #arcane season 2 #wlw yearning #wlw x reader #wlw post #wlw blog #wlw

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gingernut1314 · 4 months ago

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Turkey and Cheese ch. 2

Summary: On the run from enforcers, you collide straight into someone in your rush. Someone whose seafoam eyes take your breath away and all you want to do is spend a little bit more time with him.

Content: female reader x Silco, pre-season 1 arcane, first meeting, gendered terms, reader has water manipulation powers, young Silco, young reader, you share a stolen sandwich with Silco, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna)

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: The characters will age up, but the plan I have set up is reader meets Silco and the others when they are all still teens so there is only going to be like...one or two more chapters as teens and then we're getting aged up. I hope you all enjoy!!

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You got too much joy picking on the Enforcers that hang around the bridge that separated the shining city of Piltover and the not-so-bright Undercity. You stole their lunches and their coin, called them every name under the sun, and threw rocks at them from dark corners.

It pissed them the fuck off making it prime entertainment for you.

Your guardian, Janna, disapproved of your shenanigans. The lectures were too long whenever you were caught. Lectures about reasonability and grace and blah, blah, blah .

So, to avoid such mind-numbing lectures, you waited until Janna disappeared for days on end to let chaos ensue.

And this fog-heavy day was one of those days.

Your stomach growled, clenching and twisting in hunger as you knelt on top of one of the run-down tenement houses near the bridge. You watched four Enforcers walk out of the broader toll house, switching posts with the other four Enforcers standing before the bridge.

You had been watching them for most of the night, counting and double counting how many Enforcers were on duty. You counted nine in total, which was one less than there had been last time you’d done this.

Someone must be sick or had been fired or, maybe, they were dead. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter one bit to you. All you cared about now was earning a few coins and getting a homemade meal from someone's spouse for a late dinner.

You rushed into action after one last scan of the area, before rushing across the roofs. When you came to the end of this line of tenements, you hopped down onto the fire escape below, a small grunt escaping your lips before starting down the rusting stairs.

Once on the ground, you yanked your hood up and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, trying to keep a low profile as you walked the short distance across the recently redone cobblestoned road. You disappeared into the large shadows the street lamps cast, walking along the smooth wall of the tollhouse.

“Beth just got accepted into that fancy college she wanted.” A gruff voice filtered out from a small, open window.

“Well, shit--” Was the last of that conversation you heard as you climbed up a ladder around the back of the building.

You stayed crouched low as you made way to the vent in the center of the roof. You had used this vent for years, but, as you quietly pulled the metal covering off and lowered yourself into the vent system, found it might be one of your last times.

You were getting too big to fit in the vent.

This was a child's game, as unfortunate as it was to admit, and at the ripe age of fourteen, you were no child anymore.

“We’ve been saving up--” And blah, blah, blaaahhhh .

Enforcers rarely had anything exciting to talk about. It was always about someone's family or about whatever game they had gone to watch. It had nearly sent you into tears as you crawled through the vents.

Where was the excitement? The danger?

Didn’t Encforcer beat Undercityians up for fun?

You finally made it to the vent in the locker room area. It was bland and hardly fit hardly enough lockers for every enforcer stationed here, but to you, it was a gold mine.

You opened the vent, placing it slowly on the other side of the vent shaft, and hopped into the room, hitting the ground on near-silent feet and a held-in grunt. You waited a few seconds to see if anyone had heard you before starting on opening each locker and taking as many coin potches as you could find. The only good thing the last locker had to offer was a piece of gum instantly shoved into your mouth.

Just as you opened the fridge and grabbed someone's paper bag lunch, the door opened.

Your blood went cold. You've been caught one too many times over the years, but each time it happened it never helped ease your nerves.

A younger-looking Enforcer saw you instantly, his eyes narrowing in something like confusion. You didn’t recognize this Enforcer from past interactions, so you assumed he was new.

“Hey! Who the hell are you?”

“No one.” You pulled on the most innocent look you could muster, hiding the lunch behind your back. “I think I might have taken a wrong turn.”

“A wrong--” The Enforcer then saw the open and ransacked lockers. It clicked then, what had happened here right under his nose.

Before the Enforcer had time to speak, you pushed past him into the small hallway.

“Hey!” He shouted after you but you were already booking it into the office area where six enforcers sat. They noticed you almost instantly, rising from their seats in the blink of an eye. One tried to grab you, but you twisted out of his way and dodged another on-coming man.

The front door open with a bang and all but threw yourself into the street, your gum falling from your mouth in the process.

“Grab her!” One of the enforcers shouted, singling the four others standing before the bridge. Those four were too far away to do any grabbing, so you didn’t feel the need to be worried about them.

You ran downwards, toward the looming city you called home. As you ran closer and closer, the air seemed to get thicker-- dirtier than that of the air by the bridge. This wasn’t anything new to you, your throat and lungs taking less than a second to adjust to the polluted air.

The continuous shouting from behind let you know that the Enforcers were still hot on your tail. You would either lose them eventually in this maze of run-down buildings and streets or they would give up, finding they didn’t want to venture as far into the city as you were going to take them.

Time would only tell which it would be, so you pushed yourself harder.

You made the first sharp turn into a familiar alleyway, an enforcer that had been getting too close to you tripping and falling into a couple of barrels full of fish. You gave a sharp laugh, looking over your shoulder to watch that scene unfold in your utter glee.

And just as you made to turn back around, you collided into something solid and bony.

You and the person you’d just hit at full speed went tumbling to the ground, each giving own round of curses.

A pair of blue-green eyes halted your escape. A pair of eyes that took your breath away…well, maybe it had been from the impact but your breath was differently stolen and these eyes--eyes like seafoam weren’t helping.

The blue-green eyes were attached to a thin, sharp face covered in skin that looked like it hardly got out in the sun.

Though everyone down here always had that “hardly seen the sun” look about them.

This guy was very attractive. Too attractive some might say.

So attractive it almost had you forgetting about the four enforcers running after you.

The blue-green eyes narrowed up at you, completely pissed off.

“Get the hell off--”

“She’s in there!” The enforcer that had just fallen into fish guts shouted to his coworkers. The boy’s eyes widened and he looked past you to find what you already knew was coming into the alley.

“Do you have a canteen?” The boy snapped back to you, anger written clear on his face.

“What? No--” You gave him an eye roll.

Who didn't carry a water canteen with them?

Well…you didn’t, but that was beside the point.

“A flask?” You tried again.

“You ran into me and brought enforcers with you and you're asking me if I have a--” He gave a startled sort of sound as you began patting him down. You’d grown tired of his rambling. You found a flask in his jacket in an inner pocket and gave a little sound of triumph.

“Thank you!” You sweetly spoke, pushing yourself off the guy who looked so bewildered by you it was cute . You turned your attention back onto the four enforcers blocking the exit.

“Thought you could get away with it this time, girl .” One of them hissed through his mask. You recognized this man to be Rufus, an Enforcer that had been stationed on the bridge the longest.

“But whatever did I do, sir? ” He gave a growl, taking a step forward that was meant to be threatening.

“Give it back and we’ll forget this ever happened.” You knew that was a lie. As soon as you got close enough, they’d grab you and throw you in jail.

“Promise?” Rufus was growing impatient, you could see it in his brown, tired eyes.

“ Promise .” He grit out. This made you smile.

“Alright, mister.” You pulled the flask out from behind your back then. “Catch!” And the flask was tossed Rufus’s way.

You let your magic flow through your veins and felt for the water in the alcohol.

Rufus caught the flask with ease. He looked from it to you.

“What is--” With great effort, you made the little bit of water in the alcohol explode. The flask broke into pieces, shooting up into his eyes. He gave a scream and that was your queue to leave.

You snapped around, finding the boy standing there, shock on his face. He had a lean build and was very, very tall. It just added to his overall attractiveness.

Focus!

“Time to go!” You swiped the fallen lunch off the ground and grabbed for the boy in one go, pulling him further down the alley.

It only took the boy a moment to regain his right mind and in a split second, he was the one pulling you along.

You followed the boy, climbing up on top of the dumper closest to the broken fire escape. You let go of his arm so he could launch himself at the escape, slamming into the railing with a bang. Once he was over the rusting railing, you were quick to jump and slam into the escape.

The boy grabbed your wrist once your two feet were safely on the other side of the railing before continuing to drag you up stair after stair until you made it to the roof, which someone had been trying to grow some kind of plants on. Just with a quick glance at the spotting plant, you could tell it wasn’t going very well.

Shouting from the enforcers below had you wiggling out of the boy's grip and looking over the edge, finding one had climbed up onto the dumpster while the others looked defeated.

“If it's any consolation, you’ll be feeding a poor underling for a day or so.” You shouted down to them, waving the bag mockingly.

“Don’t think this is over, girl!” Rufus spat. You only gave him a cheeky smile.

“Tell your wife she makes the best turkey and cheese sandwiches. I’ve been looking forward to it all month.” Rufus gave a growl before storming out of the alley. Slowly, the other enforcers followed after him, throwing you dirty looks as they left.

The boy grabbed you then, whipping you around to face him.

You weren’t always the best at figuring out how people were feeling, mainly thanks to being raised by a seemingly emotionless wind spirit, but you could tell in a moment this guy was angry.

“If this is about your flask, I’m--” The guy was quick to not let you finish.

“What the hell were you thinking, bringing enforcers to the Lanes?” He snapped. You merely gave him a very slow blink.

“I’m fully prepared to buy you a new one.” You finished, earning a frustrated growl from the guy.

You liked what he had going on--this uptight, angry, authoritative thing. You liked it so much it made you want to tease him to no end.

“Why I’m trying to get a child to see reason--”

“Whoa there.” You held a hand up, further cutting him off. “You’re like--what, a year older than me?” He narrowed his seafoam blue eyes at you once more.

“You can’t be older than twelve.”

“Nope! Fourteen.” The guy rolled his eyes.

“A child.”

“Alright, mister-high-and-mighty. How old are you then?”

“It hardly matters.” Your mouth fell open in disbelief, but before you could nag him anymore, he continued. “You realize they will be back.” You pulled out of the guy's grip again and began walking across the roof.

To your surprise, the boy followed.

“The reason I pick on those buffoons at the bridge is because I know their threats are empty.” You opened the brown paper bag and rummaged around until you found a foil-wrapped sandwich your stomach had been growling to get a bite out of. “Especially Rufus.” You took one of the halves out and extended it to the boy. “Want some? It’s the good stuff.” He looked it over for a moment, eyes still narrowed.

You could tell he didn’t want to take it from you, not when he still looked so annoyed at you…so you gave it a little wiggle that pulled a sigh from his mouth.

“Thank you.” He took it from you, his eyes finally softening. His fingers brushed the tiniest bit against yours, but it was enough to send sparks running through your every last nerve.

You watched the boy as he took a bite from the sandwich. Watched as his eyes widened the slightest bit. It was so slight most wouldn’t have noticed, but you had been watching him too intently.

“Right? It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten!” You gave him a bright smile. One you rarely ever gave--one that was genuine --before chomping down into your own half.

You hopped up on the edge of the roof, which overlooked the whole of the Lanes. From up here, you could spot the tops of the highest buildings and the smoke billowing up from the mines beneath the city. Smoke that danced and twirled upward, illuminating the lights shining from across the city. In the day, the smoke would cast the sky in murky shades of gray, depending on how bright the sun was shining.

It was quite beautiful, despite its run-down and polluted nature.

It was still your home.

“I didn’t mean to bring the enforcers here…but maybe I gave someone the chance to get across that golden bridge--for them to seek their fortune or a fresh start.” You looked back to the boy who had jumped up onto the edge with you. He turned his gaze towards you, scanning you over with seemingly all-seeing eyes. Eyes that made your skin seem to burn.

“Is that what you want?” The question shocked you.

In The Lanes, most didn’t get too close to one another. Not unless they had to. It was a very lonely world, but you endured.

“No,” You scoffingly said. You wouldn’t even last a day over there. You were too wild, too much a part of the Undercity. You gave the boy a look over of your own, though much less all-seeing as his had been.

“What about you?” You cautiously asked. Though you didn’t at all mind sharing things about yourself, you didn’t know how this guy was. All you knew is you enjoyed his company….and you didn’t want to be alone all over again quite yet.

“No,” He replayed, looking back over the city. “There’s too much potential here.”

You liked that. You liked that a lot .

You took another big bite from your sandwich, letting the night air fill the quiet between you two.

You swallowed, glancing back over him as you worked up the courage to speak again.

And once that small bit of courage was wrestled up, you told him your name.

The boy turned his eyes back on you, his longish brown hair blowing slightly in the breeze. He seemed to hesitate too for a moment.

“Silco.” He spoke before finishing off his half of the sandwich.

You liked his name. You liked it almost as much as you liked his face.

“How did you manage to make my flask to explode?” You smirked, turning away from the boy, Silco , once more.

“A lady never reveals her secrets.” Silco gave a laugh. It was a tiny huffing one, but a laugh nonetheless.

You liked his laugh. You liked more than his name and face.

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ihaznoclue · 7 months ago

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Liar...

Pairing -> Von Lycaon x Reader

Note -> I thought of this idea myself and wanted to write it, also this is like a crossover with ZZZ and Arcane

Summary -> You were close friends with Lyacon when you were younger, but after he vanished without saying anything, you believed he had passed away. Nevertheless, you two eventually crossed paths again

Genre -> Angst (who doesn’t love angst I do! 🙋 even though I'm writing an angst fic Hehehe >:) )

I'm just going to call the vampire dude - Vlad 'Great ruler'

The 'thief in the moonlight' was a title you went by, and you took pride in it to convince your friends that you deserved that title.

You guys were inseparable. Lycaon and Vlad gave you the vibe of siblings rivalry, always fighting.'

Vlad always made Lycaon say his lines as you didn't do anything but do your own thing, by stealing at night so no-one could see your face. You were quite happy to do this job.

Nevertheless, things get worse. Since Lycaon hasn't returned from his mission, it's possible that something bad happened to him. You were growing concerned, Lycaon was nowhere to be found or heard in hours into the night.

"Vlad, it has been hours since Lycaon left. What if something were to happen to him?" Vlad appeared to be somewhat at ease and not bothered at all , but you were worried.

You heard Vlad sigh, "Maybe something did happen to him, but we can't let that set us back on our jobs. Can we now?" Vlad spoke. You were set aside from his words but you couldn't argue as you sighed "Yes Sir" You bowed your head in apology.

That was the day that you thought that Lycaon has died..

Its been years now, you've grown and changed, you've grown out your hair quite a lot to the point you had to braid it. You also got some tattoos for yourself because why not.

You been with Vlad for years now, never leaving his side, it was like he adopted you. But Vlad would be irritated by your actions sometimes but he can't do anything about it can he?

You been seeming to wonder off on your own since well you can and there is no-one to tell you off, since your parents died from ethereals when they went into the hollow when you were 6 years old.

Now you've become stronger, more mindful of your own freedom.

Rumors were spreading fast about the 'thief in the moonlight', You were quite happy about the rumors that have been spreading throughout New Eridu about you, you have always desired fame. A well-known figure who the public knows from your 'amazing' deeds.

It was quite interesting of how 'famous' you've become in a new place called New Eridu.

But everything goes to shit in one day.. You were minding your own business in Vlad's hideout, but you had a hideout of your own.

Markings everywhere, swinging lights hanging from above, below with a deep hole with you loved to throw your created explosives down there and watch the fire roar up to the surface.

Your own little experiment table as you love to experiment new things that you stole, seeing if it was worthy of showing Vlad or not or just simply turn it into something more valuable. You wanted to impress him as much as possible.

You were now hiding on top of the roof in Vlad's office, you loved to stay up there without anyone knowing except for Vlad. He was sitting on his chair near his desk as he minded his own business.

You were swinging your legs back and forth as you became bored. Bored out of your mind, you did many experiments already and you had nothing else to do

"Vlad" You spoke, Vlad looked up at you with his fiery red eyes. "Yes dear?" He asked

"Can I do something? Rather than staying here doing nothing" You stated, Vlad smiled with his fangs. "Of course dear, Just don't cause any more trouble" He noted, the last time you messed up his plans was last week when you 'accidently' exploded a part of the New Eridu city, you didn't mean to, you just left your shark looked dynamite there that's all.

"Yeah, Yeah I won't" You bragged, you got off on the roof, landing in front of his desk. "I won't cause any messes" You smiled innocently

Vlad nodded you off, you knew he needed his space to do his work so you left without any seconds. You went back to your hideout as you grabbed a few things and a few of your explosives just for emergencies as well as your experiments and a bag to collect things.

It was almost night, you decided to go to the ballet twins building since there was so many goods in there as well as a hollow, you wanted to have some fun.

You chose a perfect time to go in, 9:30pm. Another 30 minutes as you'll sneak right in, you tried to hide from people. You didn't want to get caught now did you?

You waited and waited until it was time to shine and show your skills. You climbed up where you have found a window to break through, this was going to be perfect.

But...

The problem was, you didn't know what lurks in that building this evening. You jumped through the window and landed on the surface below you.

While you were sneaking inside you could hear some voice, so you followed to see that their were guards, holding a girl captive. She had pink hair as her mouth was covered making her voice muffled up.

It wasn't your problem but you wanted to have a little bit of fun with these people.

Meanwhile... with the cunning hares

"We're here"

"The ballet twins.."

"Ooo~ Impressive"

The figures continued to walk around, Billy and Nekomata seeming to be cold form the fog

"Urgh, this place is cold, huh?"

"Yeah... It may look all glitzy, but something doesn't feel right.." Nekomata tried to grab Billy's jacket but then went to Anby instead

"Hm, be careful everyone. There's thick fog in here - it may hold danger"

There was a noise, it was the bangboo sculpture that fell down making everyone go into fight or flight mode

Billy nervously chuckled

"Phew, that almost made me jump, ha.. haha"

The talking scarf bangboo sighed

"I don't think we should stick around here, let's hurry up and find her"

They all went to find the girl

Nekomata stretched

"Phew, we did it"

"Anby, what you felt, that was the ethereals right!?"

"Hmm.. Not sure. Was it?"

"So Manager, where should we go from here?"

"Hang on, Let me check.." The bangboo spoke

Nekomata stretched again as she started to clean herself

behind her was red bling as it went straight towards her, but Anby with quick reflexes managed to grab her in time to pull her back

"Nekomata!"

Nekomata stumbled as she landed, sitting as she rubbed her nose

"Y-Yowsers, I thought that was gonna take my nose off!"

"Are those... scissors?" The bangboo asked

Then there was footsteps in the distance

"Who's there?" Anby was ready to fight

She walked backwards to her group, pulling out her sword half way out

The footsteps sounded closer as it stopped

"You are all very skilled. It's no wonder you are able to walk around the building unhindered - but please stop there"

The stranger adjusted his clothing

"A wolf thiren?"

"The Ballet Twins are private property and are currently closed to visitors"

He pulled out a watch form his breast pocket as he opened it

"I will allow you thirty seconds to explain your presence, Before I decided whether or not..."

"Wahh!"

A part of a round chainsaw, moving across from the ground as it landed right in front of Anby and the other who were behind her

The wolf thiren coughed

"In short, this place is not currently open to the public, and I..."

He's ear twitched as noises were heard

"I'm sure I have stressed - both the floors and one's weapon should be kept in pristine condition, have I not?"

A little girl with long green pigtails ran up

"Sorry, Mr. Lycaon, I'm really sorry.."

She grabbed her weapon that was about to fall and then bowed in apology

"Ugh.. So tired"

"Ellen, stay on task... Professionalism!"

"Tch... Coming"

Nekomata noticed something about the girl with the pigtails

"Hm? Corin? Is that you?"

"Huh? Oh, Miss Nekomata! And the investigator!"

"Corin, do you know them?"

"Yes, Mr. Lycaon! They're the nice people who helped me out of the hollow that time!"

"I see... Rina, for now, you may stand down"

"As you wish~"

Anby moved as he got her sword out

"When did you.."

"Hehe, you're quite a perceptive young lady. You almost saw me" The lady hovered away

"She means you were way off!"

"Way off! Way off!" Her bangboo ghosts teased

"If you aren't mere trespasser, that makes things easier"

"Allow me to introduce ourselves - we are Victoria Housekeeping"

Now back to you..

You were keeping an eye out if there is any more of those guards near by, you then heard explosives somewhere in the building, huh strange that wasn't you though

Meh, whatever

You walked around as you placed your shark bombs around the area where the guards are. This was going to be fun

You walked around a corner, everything was set now time to blow this joint but first you need their attention.

"H-Hello?" A little girl's voice were heard, you did this trick a couple of times and it always works, you put a voice recording in their to seem that there was a little girl somewhere.

That definitely got their attention as they dropped the pink haired girl on the floor. "Who's there?" One of the guards was looking around as he mentioned some to look around

As soon as they get close enough..

'BOOM!'

The explosives exploded, smoke was scattered everywhere. Perfect. This was going perfectly just as you imagined

'BOOM!'

A explosive was heard from near by

"W-What was that?" Corin worriedly asked, looking at the others

"I don't know but we must find out" Lycaon said, everyone started to run to the nosie

Feeling heat as they saw smoke and a little bit of fire

"What happened here?" Rina asked as she now was on her feet

"Someone must of used some kind of bomb-" The talking scarf bangboo was shocked, all of them could now hear singing

(Enjoy the music)

youtube

THIS SONG ALWAYS MAKES ME CRY BRO (My poor bbys :'( )

"That.. song.." Lycaon's eyes widen, no it couldn't be.

The smoke was now clearing out, a figure was near an edge that had a deep drop, they were holding someone by the collar, hovering them over the edge, there was also unconscious bodies on the ground

"Who's she?" Rina asked, tilting her head. Ellen spoke "That's Name, she goes by the 'thief of the moonlight' She practically steals for someone as a Job" Ellen explained

"Lycaon.." Corin worriedly ask, "Is something the matter? It seems you know this person"

"Ahem.. Nevermind that we need to do something, you girls get rain, I'll handle her."

The girls nodded as they went separate ways

Lycaon was focused on you, you haven't noticed him yet.

"Geez you're boring huh?" You spoke, hovering the guy over the edge

"No please! I'll do anything, just please don't drop me!" He begged, you smirked

"I'll ask you again, do you know anymore people in this building?" You asked, it seemed that earlier you heard something when you arrived

"No, I swear!" The guy screamed

"Tch, Liar.." You sneered, you then pushed him as he fell, "Too bad.."

You then turned around and froze, someone.. was behind you, you pulled out your gun that you had that was hanging from your leg belt then pointed it at the wolf thiren

'He looks familiar..' You thought, he looked like someone you knew

"Lycaon! We got the girl!" Some shark girl yelled, you knew that name..

Your eyes widen, shakily breathing in. Lycaon had his hands up showing that he's not armed

"L-Lycaon.." You nervously spoke, Lycaon's ears flattened as he started to slowly walk towards you, reaching his hand to lower your gun

"I- I thought" You stuttered, Lycaon smiled a little "That I was dead.. Name I'm very sorry that I left, But we are together again" Lycaon spoke softly trying to comfort you

You dropped your gun, you charged at him as you both collapsed on the ground, You were squeezing Lycaon as if he was actually dead

You started to get overwhelmed as your tears spilled out of your eyes, "I can't believe that you're here, you're actually here.." Your words were muffled by his chest

But the moment was ruined, you looked up from over his shoulder as you saw someone, black and red hair. She had a weapon, your eyes glared at her as you broke the hug

You pointed your gun at her, "Who's she?" You asked but never broke eye contact with her

"Lycaon..?" Ellen eyes widen, Lycaon was now nervous

"It's okay name, she's a work friend" Lycaon tried to calm you down, "Vlad wasn't lying.. you're with other people" You asked

"You're friend is Name?" Ellen asked, her red eyes glared as you, her weapon in hand ready to attack

"Ellen, Calm down. We can work this out" Lycaon spoke

"You're playing me aren't you?!" You were now confused and upset, you need to think

"Is this why you came? To talk this out!?" You yelled, you were now angry, you didn't know what was happening but everything was happening all at the same time

"Name, please calm down"

"Is this why you left?! To be with some other people?! And you never told me, you left without saying a word!" You cried out

You had your gun at him, Ellen didn't seem to like that as she started to charge at you, you grumbled as you took out a smoke flare

Smoke was now everywhere, Ellen was left alone without any Lycaon and you weren't seen as well

"Name.. I don't want to fight you" Lycaon was in a fighting stance, "Well It seems like you want to fight, traitor.." You glanced away

You then smirked, you pulled out a bomb as you threw it as him, but it missed as he charged at you with full force, pinning you down o the ground

"Damn it!" You were crying as you felt ashamed

"Come with me, stay with me and the others." Lycaon assumed, You looked like you were thinking about it

"I'm sorry" You muttered as you pulled out a dynamite, pulling the pin, Lycaon noticed as moved out of the way

'BOOM!'

Pink smoke was everywhere, Lycaon was coughing as he was trying to find you in this smoke, he then spotted you

He sighed as you kneeled down, you were hurt and covered in smoke, you were unconscious

"Let's get you home" Lycaon spoke gently as he picked you up, his arm under your knees as the other arm was under your back

"I'm sorry I left you, but it was for a good reason.."

Finally done! You could tell I lost motivation at the last part but meh whatever

-A<3

#zenless zone zero #zzz #zenless zone zero x reader #zenlesszonezero #von lycaon #von lycaon x reader #zzz von lycaon #zzz lycaon

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christian-oc-tournament · 10 months ago

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Please vote based on the picture AND the description!

Logis [Arcane and Androids @thegoldenherd]

while his creator publicly claims Logis was built for the purpose of making clocks, his true reason for creation was to uncover truths by utilizing pure logic. throughout his life he gets into trouble for his compulsion to uncover the truth, from minor invasions of privacy, all the way to state secrets and conspiracies, and eventually mystical truths beyond even his own understanding.

Lucas of Greydawn [Artorbis @epnona-the-wisp]

Born into a long line of monster hunters and partway through a very serious quest, Lucas has no time for things like basic conversational skills. Recently he’s had gaps in his memory, but he knows that a shadow imp stole his most precious possession just last night. Or was it two nights ago? It does not matter—he’ll have to get it back on his own. His parents are not here to assist and nobody else in his life would believe the wild things he has to say.

#christian oc tournament #round 1 #group 5 left side

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ohtobefreaky · 1 month ago

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various Silco thoughts cause I want that old man so fucking bad oh my god

(Bear in mind I have not seen arcane bc it would fucking kill me, but I have seen any and all scenes he’s in because he makes me eoeodjcnvnggovo)

tw: hmm, incest in the first thot, up to you if it’s pseudo or full on

Generally pretty tame for the stuff I write though, stole some lore from enstars for the plot of the second one

Also, yall, WHERE is the old man silco smut??? “Young silco-“ FUCK YOU LET ME FUCK THE OLD MAN

I want him to have raised you your whole life, I’m a MAJOR freak with him so I’d love to imagine bio kid but adopted works too

Obviously you grow up very attached to your father, you can’t really make friends bc of who he is anyways, you’d never know if they’re genuine or not, so you spend all ur time with daddy dearest

And obviously, growing up that way, your only company being papa and your books, you start getting this warm fuzzy feeling in ur tummy when you look at him, but it’s different than usual

I mean, who would be a better man for you then your father, the man who’s always been with you, always loved you?

Obviously, you love and trust him sm you go to him with these feelings, pouting and feeling weirdly embarrassed to tell him something (that’s never happened before, it’s weird to you!) and he’s so soft and gentle with you as he tells you to sit on his lap so he can explain this to you

He’d probably try to divert your attention at first, find a guard he trusts and get you to like him instead, even if the thought makes his fists clench, but you just keep bringing it up

No man is ever the same as your daddy, it’s just not working :( that sad little pout on your face, the way tears line your lashes,, he’s a weak man when it comes to you and it shows <3 he’ll cave, just give it time

he wouldn’t go straight for sex, he’d probably have you sit on his lap while he fingers you, telling himself it’s not as bad as if he went all the way, but we all know how that ends fr <3

He stays strong for a while, a few weeks, maybe a month at most, but when you start coming to him crying more and more about how it’s just not enough, you don’t mean to be a bad girl or ungrateful but it’s just not enough :((( he feels that last little resolve crack under the pressure of his love for you, and he promises to show you something that feels even better, just,, stop crying, okay?

Mhm <3 being a “vampire” with daddy silco would be my dream

okay so like how Rei and Ritsu in enstars are “pseudo-vampires”, they aren’t LITERALLY, it’s a genetic disease that makes them weaker in the sun and crave the iron in blood and their family just ran with it, right

so imagine Silco finds this little girl like he does w Jinx, ur so small and frail, he can tell your special and he should keep you safe

He pretty quickly realizes what ur problem is with the sun, but he can’t figure out why you won’t eat anything, you’ll die at this rate

idk how exactly, but I imagine somebody gets killed near you and he can see the way your eyes widen and your pupils dilate, staring at the body and the blood pooling from it

At first, he worries you’re scared and tries to usher you out of the room, but you’re practically entranced as you walk closer and then sit down to press your lips to the wound and drink as much blood as you can from it

It clicks in his head right there and he starts ordering his men to find people to kill and collect blood from for his little girl <3

okay now then

Obviously, he can’t just have people killed all the time, so he has to ration your blood supply, even if it hurts him to watch you be so lethargic and quiet when you’ve gone without for a while

And then one day, he catches you with your teeth sunk into the neck of one of the guards, and there’s this odd,, jealousy the sight brings him, and he drags you away, uncaring of the way it rips your teeth from the man’s throat painfully

He sits you down and tells you in that stern dad voice he found when he adopted you that you can’t just bite random people, what if they’re sick or they hurt you back? (He shoves that jealousy down, but it’ll come back everytime he thinks of this moment)

You’re pouting, because ur stomach hurts all the time and you need blood from somebody, doesn’t he understand that?? Papa is being so mean :(

so of course, Silco offers his own <3

you’re worried bc papa is so frail himself, what if you take too much and hurt him :(

He reassures you he’ll be fine, don’t you trust your daddy?

So you steadily and cautiously sit in his lap, taking a moment to lean into him and just enjoy being held by him, something you didn’t get often from how busy he is, and then your teeth graze his neck, and he lets out a sharp breath that makes you pull away, but he puts his hand on your head to push you back <33 obviously, he’s weak enough you could easily break free, but you trust him, so you bite into his neck, and oh,, you’ve never had blood that tasted so good <3

He ignores the way your hips rut against his thigh as you drink, and you in turn ignore the way you feel his cock twitching under you <333

eventually it would escalate though, the more you two do this sinful act, and you’d end up fully grinding on him, and at some point before either of you realize, you’re just flat out fucking

something something, there’s a certain intimacy in the way he holds you so gently as you drain him of the very thing giving him life

oh to have the intimacy of feeling him inside you as you slowly kill him, the only thing keeping you from ending his life your love for him

I wanna call him daddy and blink pretty at him when he asks what I’m doing

want him to use me like I don’t matter and then hold me gently and kiss my cheek bones when he’s done and tell me how much he loves me

I should be able to pin him down and ride him I think

let me pin his wrists down while he growls and tells me I’ll pay for this later and I’m just grinning while I ride him good and fast

I should be able to sit in his lap all sweet and pretty in front of his guests, they don’t need to know he’s playing with my cunt under the table (the sounds are so loud, they know <3)

I want him to make fun of me for coughing

I want him to play with my cunt while he blows smoke in my face and every time I cough or pull away he stops for a minute until he’s trained me so well I don’t even flinch

hrhhrgrggrgr ong but also imagine he likes to blow his smoke into your face as he fucks you because he likes how you squeeze him when you cough

he likes the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him with each cough, you know he’s doing it on purpose cause he’s smirking the entire time

I need him to call me dumb and stupid and good for nothing but being his cute little cocksleeve

okay going off taht imagine you like worked for him (i dont know jack shit avout the lore just that hes like a boss???? idk just walk with me) but you keep messing up so much and activly make things worse without even meaning to but youre just si pretty and sweet and cute he doesnt want to get rid of you so he instead promotes you to being his little cocksleeve <3 youre there for whenever he is stressed and needs to blow off steam or is just doing paperwork and wants you to cock warm him, he is always so mean and degrading and saying how you may have been too stupid to do the first job but its okay because youre so so good at being his little slut <333

want him to pinch my cheeks and tell me how cute I am and while I’m preening over the compliment he’s like “it’s too bad you’re so stupid.”

He comes back to the quarters where he has you and you can already tell it’s going to be one of those times, he comes in with his clothes a little disheveled but his eyes are soft and he lets out a big sigh the moment his eyes lock onto you

I just KNOW he meant for you to be some stress relief at first but he found himself genuinely caring for you and looking forward to seeing you

He doesn’t even fuck you every time anymore, sometimes he just sits with you while you hold him and tell him all the inconsequential things you did today

I want him to pretend to hate you for AGES, he tries to forget the feelings bubbling in his chest whenever he sees you

I want him to get meaner and meaner as he fails to suppress his feelings until one day when ur genuinely sadly crying after he’s done and he feels fucking AWFUL

I just wanna be his pretty little wife who isn’t good for anything but making him feel good <3

he would thrive with a bimbo wife I think

just a really ditzy, kinda stupid wife

i wanna sit on his lap and help him shave in the mornings after he broke my back the night before and excitedly yap about my inconsequential plans for the day

I want him to buy me all kinds of nice clothes and makeup and everything just for him to ruin them later that day and promise to buy me new ones when I pout over him tearing my “new favorite dress” (I say that about all of them)

wanna help him with his injections and pout so prettily cause it really looks like it hurts :( my poor husband

#arcane silco #silco x reader #let me fuck the old man :(#young silco- FUCK YOU #cw incest #incest kink #want him until his back breaks #until he needs an inhaler #until he needs a wheelchair #until his dick don’t work anymore #I NEED him #Jinx is so lucky #if I had him as a father #oh my goddddd #I want him so bad

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dragonbard-bastard · 6 months ago

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Started writing down what I did today to make lil summary posts cuz I've seen people do that before and like the idea of sharing more about my runs :)

Act 1 Spoilers!

The first thing I did was talk to Omeluum and Blurg, and I js wanna say I love them :) they're so husbands. We also went to the Arcane Tower and unlocked it and such, very nice, got the timmask spores and tongue of madness, forgot to go back to Blurg and Omeluum. Oops. Discovered that the tower has a BASEMENT!?

Spent a lot of time talking to corpses for fun. Canonically Soph would never- he'd rarely ever touch necrotic magic of any kind of ever. It would also freak him tf out.

We got Astarion's Sussur dagger!!! It's probably one of my favorite weapons in the early game, fuck them spellcasters fr. ALSO since I'm playing Tactician and long rests cost 80 camp supplies rather than fourth I've been very greedy with it so when we went into the Underdark Astarion was like "Hey .. Can I ermm tell you something. I'm. I'm a vampire." and Soph just said "Duh" and moved on 😭😭😭

Also for the not long resting reason Wyll only recently got his horns. Told Mizora to fuck off, and of COURSE called Wyll a handsome devil. Am growing increasingly aggravated as time goes on, however, about a lack of Wyll content. He literally won't even say well met anymore he has ONE LINE. no variety, just "You have something to ask?"

Dug up a dog's grave. I'm so sorry Myrna. Apologized by putting some flowers and a candle on it, it was all I had unfortunately.

I actually long rested twice in an row, one without using any camp supplies ofc, because I wanted the invisible Durge cape and it's actually shockingly good on Soph. I should probably give it to Astarion but I don't want to :(

Went to the mountain pass because I didn't want to go to grymforge, stole everything from the bitch who wanted the githyanki egg then murdered her because I hate her and what the fuck

fought the gremishkas (Astarion one shot a surprising AMT of them, it was awesome) and the Kobold. I tried to blow up as little of the wine as I could because more camp supplies, and found out you can apparently pocket the fire wine barrels with kobold still on them. This will be incredibly funny when I use the barrels as bombs later. DAMN I FORGOT TO TAKE A SS OF MY BARREL BOMB COLLECTION. Here's one from yesterday, though it's grown.

went to creche y'llek . went to the zaithisk, let Lae'zel use it, did this on the first persuasion check, did not use an inspiration.

Absolutely brutalized the bitches outside of the infirmary, I put an oil barrel underneath one of the light fixtures then shot it down at the start of the fight 😭😭😭

went to fight kith'rak therezynn, remembered why I ate the mountain pass. had to reload like three times until I was like fuck this Wyll go home Gale use arcane lock on this stupid door and then it was going decently well Lae'zel knocked the soul breaker out of her hands and later got her own weapon knocked out of her hands, perfect time to switch to the soul breaker I'd say. near the end of the fight a random fucking raider spawned right next to therezynn. just poof. right into existence. I was floored and slightly annoyed but therezynn hit him w a burning hands and took off half his health anyways???

Soph told the Inquisitor he can't have the weapon, the Inquisitor did not like this. Lae'zel stole his sword too and nearly killed him in four hits. He did become a pain in the ass w the mind steal link tho because oml he stole his own teammates minds or whatever. didn't know he'd do that. Wyll went down to this ranged attacker multiple times and I tried to use heat metal on him but he WASNT METAL. BULLSHIT. LOOK AT ALL THAT M E T A L.

Anyways, Soph got pissed about them hurting Wyll, went crazy went stupid, murdered the absolutely 100% has metal on him guy and one of the last spellcasters. told vlaakith to fuck off, visited the dream visitor, said get up boy I ain't killing you, signed off, and will now go eep.

Ty for reading :3

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #dragonbard ramblings #bg3 durge #bg3 wyll #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 vlaakith #dragonbard Sophronius

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chadhunkler · 2 years ago

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Character Inspirations - Chad and Kasha

Tagged by @shroudkeeper (I FORGOT I GOT ALL THE INSPIRATIONS AND THEN GOT MY WISDOM TEEF PULLED AAA)

Chad Hunkler

Alright so we got:

Vi from Arcane - big punchy, strongk and faste

Beauregard from Critical Role - Unintentional, but Chad's story lines up really well with her's. Hates parents, parents own an alcohol business, good at hitting things too

Maki Oze from Fire Force - More hitting things, but this time with a little bit o' magic with it! There seems to be a theme developing...

Beidou from Genshin Impact - Eyepatch, Sailor, badass mf, pretty... I mean Chad would never call herself pretty...

Gordon Ramsay - okay it looks weird on the list because I think it was actually my own DnD character I got inspiration from (since I only played him once), a pro chef rogue, used magic to help him around the kitchen, and stole ingredients from competitors. Chad doesn't do that last part lmao

MEOWSCULAR CHEF FROM MONSTER HUNTER: WORLD - BIG, STRONG, ONE EYE, BALLER CHEF, POWERRRRRRR

Kasha

The Main Character from Nioh 2 - The very first place I started becoming interested in Onmyo magic was that video game, the progenitor of Kasha yeyeyeye

Yae Miko - spooky hot head shrine maiden, powerful

Ginko from Mushi-shi - guy who holds tons of information on what are basically yokai, that's 100% Kasha let's go

Abe no Seimei from Japanese history - a famous real life Onmyoji, I keep looking him up for all kinds of stuff, this picture's from the Onmyoji game

Shen - my main in League when I played, protector of balance between the spirit realm and the mortal realm. Probably another early push in Kasha's direction

Yone - fuk u I put two league characters on here, if I could, I probably woulda put all of Ionia on here. He fits as well, hunting evil spirits even though he himself is a spirit

wahoo

Tagging @miqomonkly @uldahstreetrat @ythealleycat @arinaxiv @rasenkaikyo @vseelyrei @myrilsoleil and anyone else who wants to do it too!

#inspiration chart #ffxiv #ffxiv oc #chad hunkler #kasha

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pinkvelve · 3 months ago

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new years

💜question s

1. What’s your favourite season?

summer omfg let’s not start off on this note. it’s so far away

2. Grab the nearest book to you, turn to page 18 and find line 4.

the closest book to me is my YEARBOOK and no i’m not gonna open that

3. Who was the last person you texted?

uh my brother

i texted him i’m here cause i picked him up from this nye party

4. Before you started this survey, what were you doing?

watching arcane

5. What is the last thing you watched on TV?

still arcane rn. it’s the part where ambessa or whatever her name is invades the city

caitlyn is getting absolutely destroyed bruh

6. Without looking guess what time it is

uhhhhh 12:30

7. Now look at the clock. What is the actual time?

13:39 aw man

8. With the exception of your computer, what can you hear?

caitlyn moaning in this fight….girl

the original person i stole this from said they were listening to touch by sori omfg this gag….i had to take a second

9. Do you tan or burn?

i’m irish so

ambessa just died i think everybody cheered god damn

10. Do you like fish?

well not particularly

11. Mac or PC?

i actually own both but mac i guess …reluctantly

12. Do you remember your dreams?

lately ive been having dreams of the most mundane stuff but it’s slightly off and unsettling

13. When did you last laugh?

this video on tik tok it’s the one where they’re in the basement or something and there’s trash everywhere HEY FÆGGOT!(can i say that on here.) Hmmmm:3 *throws refrigerator*

14. Do you remember why/at what?

yes hello i just SAID

15. Have you ever been to Canada?

some of my dad’s family lives in toronto so ive been there yes. its really beautiful out in the lakes

16. Shoes, socks or bare feet?

normally bare feet but it’s freezing so i’m wearing socks

17. What is the last film you saw?

the timothee chalamet bob dylan movie

19. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?

austria 🇦🇹 or spain 🇪🇸. 👅

20. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?

a plane ticket to spain

21. Where would you live if you could live anywhere?

did i not just say this.

22. What’s your favourite band?

i don’t think k-pop groups count so

radiohead, or coldplay or keane

23. Have you ever had to have surgery?

no but i need a lobotomy RIGHT NOW after finishing arcane

24. Do you enjoy school?

sure…in a way…

25. What do you think of these questions so far?

im just chilling but the people in squid game are not

26. Are you a righty or a lefty?

rightY

27. Who made the last incoming call on your phone?

jayce did

28. What is the last thing you downloaded onto your computer?

0 notes

luminetti · 1 year ago

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Baldur’s Gate Regency AU HCs

༘⋆Notes: had the sudden desire to write blurbs for the rest of the companions that won’t appear in my gale x tav regency au series. If you'd like to read the series, go here! I was only able to fit four companions so if people enjoy it I’d happily do the rest! Also note that these allude to companion x Tav/the reader, so if anyone likes it enough to warrant its own one shot or series, I’d love to know.

Gale:

Couldn’t help but add my favorite boy even though I’m giving him a whole ass series.

Without a doubt, Gale is a Viscount of Waterdeep. Trained in the arcane by the Dowager Duchess Mystra herself, he happily tends to her requests in good faith.

Gale rarely partakes in the social gatherings of the Ton, much rather preferring the quiet atmosphere of his estate.

Despite his reclusiveness, Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess always seems to have space for Gale to visit the palace and frequently calls upon him for banquets and events.

Due to his lack of social attending, Gale often forgets ballroom and courting etiquette. From leaving ballroom dances midway through the set to unchaperoned meetings with suitresses, it’s a miracle Gale has been omitted from the daily papers.

The Ton is known for being quite unforgiving, and disregarding transgressions is usually a privilege reserved for royalty.

Reserved for royalty, like a Duchess, perhaps.

Gale may be socially obtuse, but he’s certainly not unmindful. Recently he has begun to suspect royal interference when it comes to the press.

As the Dowager Duchess calls upon him more and more frequently, Gale has to decide whether her intentions are benign, or if he needs to reconsider his faith in an act of apostasy.

(wink wink)

Astarion:

A Baron of Baldur’s Gate, obviously.

Or at least, that’s what he claims to be.

King Cazador Szarr is a man of high expectations and an even higher reputation. Despite rumors of being merely the Prince Regent of Baldur’s Gate, his highness insists on being titled as King. With a coronation every few years, King Szarr has five deceased wives and is on the hunt for a sixth.

As luck would have it, King Szarr has Astarion, his favorite servant to dress up and send into unassuming balls.

Only appearing at masquerades, Astarion takes on the role of a lovesick Baron seeking out equally yearning suitresses.

After a month of courting, Astarion reports his findings about the women he has encountered, describing their appearance and preferences in great detail.

As the King desires, the poor woman is swept from her estate and brought to the palace, because who can deny a direct request from the King?

Haunted by the beheadings of the last two late Queens, Astarion has vowed to end the line of ex-wives by finding the perfect suitress to be the King’s sixth, and final wife.

It’s a flawless plan. All Astarion has to do is not fall in love with the suitress.

Karlach:

From birth, Karlach was destined to become a Knight.

Trained with the intent to become a personal Knight of the Duke of Baldur's Gate, Enver Gortash, Karlach had come to terms with—and found solace in—her duties.

However, once news of war within the Queendom of Avernus reached Baldur’s Gate, Duke Gortash swiftly sold Karlach to Queen Zariel for a pretty penny.

Karlach served in the war for many years until finally breaking free and fleeing to the Kingdom of Sword Coast where she lived as a fugitive and stole rations from street vendors to survive.

Empathizing with the struggles of the poor and mistreated, Karlach vowed to steal from the wealthy and redistribute to the needy, making her the silent hero of the lower class and the bane of the Ton.

Due to unfortunate timing and pure misfortune, Karlach was spotted stealing several loaves of bread from a bakery by the Marquess of Sword Coast, Wyll Ravengard.

Thus began the long game of cat and mouse, or rather cat, cat, and mouse.

Despite the hoards of Avernus soldiers plus Wyll Ravengard on her tail, Karlach has managed to fend them off with a smile on her face.

Eventually hearing word of Karlach’s hidden base, Avernus soldiers force her to relocate.

Out of time and options, Karlach finds herself on a noble’s doorstep hoping a kind stranger will harbor a fugitive.

Wyll:

Son of the Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard, Wyll grew up as a proud Marquess, astounded by everything his father had accomplished.

As he grew older he enthusiastically learned everything Duke Ravengard would teach, learning swordsmanship and attending important gatherings.

Feeling a sense of responsibility for the Sword Coast and Baldur’s Gate, Wyll began to crave more.

Despite his father’s warnings, Wyll began to observe mages and the arcane in awe of its vast potential and power.

Against his own better judgment, Wyll became fascinated with the world of mages, researching the intricacies of the weave and seeking out mages to show him what it was like.

One mage in particular caught Wyll’s eye, enticing him to investigate further. Perhaps if he had powers of his own he could court them instead of admiring from afar.

Worried that Wyll was straying too far from his duties to the Kingdom, Duke Ravengard forbade him from ever making contact with magic or mages again.

Devastated, Wyll ran to the outskirts of the city to clear his mind. To his surprise, a dark mage was waiting for him.

The mage Mizora offered him the ideal solution: servitude to Mizora to assist in protecting Sword Coast from evil doers in exchange for the powers he so desperately desired.

Without question Wyll accepts the powers, but that doesn’t mean he knows how to use them, nor does it mean his courting will be reciprocated.

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il-predestinato · 2 years ago

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milton keynes’ finest sounds very interesting…very interesting indeed, love the idea!

An anon left a message in my inbox almost A YEAR AGO saying that people kept saying Kimi's race engineer sounded a lot like Charles. It really stuck with me and thus race engineer!Charles fic was born! I stole the tentative title name from "Piltover's Finest" (ship name for Caitlyn/Vi... any Arcane fans out there?).

It's still very much a WIP but if anyone is interested, here are a few snippets.

Title: Milton Keynes' Finest

Pairing: Driver!Max/Engineer!Charles

Excerpt #1:

Charles had nothing but criticism over the analysis of his FP1 and FP2 lap times. He was unfailingly polite, as if carefully ensuring that Max could find no fault with his manners and bemoan to Christian (not that Max was a tattletale - he huffed at the thought), but he found fault in almost every corner and straight, in both the short runs and the race runs.

“There isn’t an extra tenth to be found through turns 1-3.” Max finally could not hold his tongue anymore.

“My analysis of your entry into turn 2 and exit out of turn 3 suggests otherwise,” came the ever polite response. Charles’s piercing green eyes issued a challenge. “Take the entry you used on lap 13 - it’s perfect but you shorted the corner out of 3. Now if you combined that with the exit out of 3 that you took on lap 29, that’s where the extra tenth will come from.”

Max threw up both hands in frustration. “You’re not making sense. A minute ago you compared it to Checo’s racing line and said his was optimal. He did the exact same thing out of 3.”

To combine the entry he used on lap 13 with the exit he took on lap 29 was … well, if not impossible, then driving on a razor’s edge.

Something flashed across Charles’s eyes, and his brow creased into a frown for the first time. “The line was optimal for Checo, that’s true,” he informed Max coldly. “But you’re capable of more. Or am I wrong about you?”

Max wanted to strangle him.

The most irritating thing about Charles is that Max ends up proving him right.

The whole thing was a trap. To prove him wrong, Max would have to fail to go faster. And there has always been a part of him that recoiled at the thought that he had somehow reached his ceiling, that this version of him was the finished product, all too ready to be tossed aside in lieu of new talent.

Nevertheless, he was practically spitting mad by the end of FP3. Charles would not shut up on the radio. He refused to give Max the space to process. Charles was clever enough not to speak to him in the high speed corners, never crossing the line into truly aggravating or dangerous territory. But that further irked Max. His new race engineer was so deliberately calculating, clearly well-briefed in advance, that no true fault could be found with his communication, and yet Max had never felt so demeaned in his skills.

He thought GP was stoic and reserved, never lauding him with too much praise. By comparison to Charles, GP was practically effusive in encouragement.

“Your gain in the last lap was 0.2,” intoned Charles as Max crawled into the pitlane with grinding teeth and a tense grip on his steering wheel. “Our target is 0.3.”

Soon his target would be Charles’s vocal cords. At least he was now certain that British accents are far less annoying than French accents.

Excerpt #2:

Temporary race engineer, he kept reminding himself in order to maintain his sanity.

Because he hasn’t even made it through the whole race weekend with this impossibly aggravating individual, and he’s not sure he will survive to see the next race weekend. He’s already drafted his resignation letter for Christian.

Dramatic did not suit him, but desperate times -

To his dismay, his usually indulgent team principal laughed at him.

Dismissively.

“Come on, Max, give him a chance,” he chided, as if he found nothing of value in the well-crafted ten minute rant that Max just bestowed upon him. “He's a prodigy - Adrian Newey’s prized disciple. He was head-hunted by Ferrari, McLaren, and Alpine. We are lucky that he chose to stay with us.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Yeah, perfect. A prodigy at annoying me. Did you hear him during Qualifying?” He didn’t usually let anything linger, but even talking about it brought back a grimace of irritation. He mimicked the French-accented voice: “‘No, Max, focus on turns 7 and 9 where you need two extra tenths each. You let me worry about the leader’s times.’ Like honestly, what the fuck, Christian. I want the lap times. He acts like it’s a fucking secret, and then lectures me. It’s unbelievable.”

He is most definitely not being dramatic.

(Okay, fine… so he got pole position, and yes - it was because he gained a few extra tenths in turns 7 and 9… but still - it’s the fucking principle of it. Because fuck that guy, and hopefully Christian doesn’t mention the pole position thing -)

“Well, you topped Qualifying, didn’t you?”

Damn it.

He then tried another approach. “He’s arrogant.”

Christian raised a single wordless eyebrow, and well... Max sort of had that one coming to him.

“Why can’t we send him back to the factory?” he suggested instead, which he thought was a perfectly sensible decision. That’s where Charles Leclerc came from, and he should be promptly banished from whence he came. If Charles was indeed an oh-so-gifted aerodynamicist and ICE expert as they all claimed him to be, then he can rant about shaving a few tenths off this and that corner into the void of the wind tunnel - because seriously, fuck him and fuck that snide French accent.

“He’s going to be your race engineer until GP is ready to return.” Christian’s voice was terse and left him no room for argument. “These are Helmut’s orders.”

#charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen #*#my fic #elle.ask #anon #lestappen fic #f1 rpf

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r-rook-studio · 2 years ago

Text

#City23: 1st Week of February

Crossposted to Cohost

I've written about my #City23 projects here and on Tumblr. You can check out my last post. I still have two #City23 projects I'm working on: a fantastical version of Nottingham during the high middle ages and a contemporary fictional city in Maine called Cape Crescent.

As noted in that end-of-Janaury post, I spent most of January (minus a break) working on the area around Nottingham's Bar Gate and Cape Crescent's "main street": Pine State Highway. That was a bit of a struggle since I felt like I was filling in "gaps" for a city that hadn't been sufficiently sketched out yet, but did give me a sense of what the locals in both cities are like.

Nottingham

For February '23 in Nottingham, I'm focusing on Nottingham Castle. While Nottingham was not anywhere near the size of London at this time, the castle, a royal residence, meant that the city was far more cosmopolitan than one might expect, with large French, English, and Jewish communities. The castle isn't just a physical space, it's a symbol of the sheriff's authority as the royal appointee. Thus it's the headquarters of a sizable faction and a base of its power.

This week, I started with the outer bailey, and I think I may camp out a bit. The first line of yards, gardens, and buildings within the castle's outermost wall, the bailey is the home and workplace of many common folks in the sheriff's service. I started with a random guard-generator, including what after-effects from last night are distracting the guard:

Distractions from Last Night

None: Attentive

Gambling debts

Caught cheating in love or at cards

Unrequited infatuation

Family disputes

Lost a brawl, wants revenge

I also started work on the castle's large outer stables and kennel (because I'm in charge, I've decided there's a separate royal stable and kennel further into the castle). My Robin Hobb fandom is showing through. This gave me three NPCs in quick succession: Kado the stable boy, his best friend (and likely crush) Nin who assists in the kennel, and the late stable master and kennel master Warinfried. Kado and Nin have some arcane talents (including some that haven't occurred in Sherwood), and Warinfried's body was buried in the tunnels below the castle without removing the necromantic ring he stole from the sheriff. This could be why folks in the outer bailey's brewery have reported seeing signs of a ghost. If Warinfried is haunting the castle now, who knows what he might do to revenge himself on Kado, who murdered him, or Nin, who Kado was trying to protect? I've also name-dropped Wainfried's patron, Raimund, the castle's steward/seneschal and a son of the sheriff, who I'd love to develop a bit more.

So far, the castle is a lot of Norman and Breton dudes, so over this next week, I'd like to diversify the population a bit.

Cape Crescent

In Cape Crescent, I wanted to begin digging into two explicitly hostile factions: the cult-like Grove and the loosely Pentex-inspired Ghost Bay Foundation. Over the past week, I've worked on Pine State Realty, a mid-sized real estate agency near the middle of town that doubles as an administrative front for Ghost Bay Foundation. Over the past week, I've identified three NPCs who work there:

Ramji Davindran dropped out of grad school to come work in Cape Crescent and discover why his sister disappeared. He covered his tracks well, and so far the only person I've found who knows about his real purpose is...

Cornelia Richards, the office manager, isn't supposed to know much about the Ghost Bay Foundation or the realty's real purpose but knows almost all of it. She may even know more than...

Ted Cliff, the "owner" of the real estate agency and a Ghost Bay administrator, is supposed to know way more than he's actually figured out about the employees he keeps around to create a more compelling front.

#city23 #tabletop rpgs #tabletop roleplaying #ttrpg design #ttrpgs

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critrolesideblog · 4 years ago

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Evening falls in the Pearlbow Wilderness with the last of the autumn leaves. A bitter wind heralds the coming of winter as it rattles its way through the skeletal trees, and the veil of gray that has been pulled across the sky all day awaits its cue to blanket the world beneath with snow. So, when a golden-amber light shines briefly in the wilderness, halfway between Erdeloch and Kaltenloch, there is no mistaking it for dying sunlight, which has not been seen by these tree trunks for some time, and it is little surprise at all, when a man with hair the color of a hearthfire appears out of the light with the soft crunch and thump of sturdy boots meeting forest floor.

The man looks north briefly, and then turns in a slow, clockwise circle, his azure eyes, bruised from lack of sleep, searching for any sign of his quarry. He hears the familiar, chittering call of an elf owl, and watches it take to the sky in a flutter of feathers and rustle of tree branches. A smile pulls on one side of his lips, and he hopes the bird is a good omen as he turns the slow circle again, but he finds only trees, trees, and more trees. The wind, delighted to have a new orange toy at its disposal, tugs excitedly at his hair. "Go where the wind blows, I suppose," he says with a sigh, and the leaves on the ground agree quietly that it is really the only sensible way to be getting along.

As he sets off west-northwest, he reaches into one of his coat's many pockets to touch the trinket housed there. It is a small thing, barely larger than a gold coin. He stole it over a year prior from a place far east of here. He turns it over in his pocket four times, before methodically tracing the design on its face with his thumb, a new habit he has picked up in recent weeks as he has searched for the woman it reminds him of.

Night arrives quickly in the autumnal wilderness, and cold quickly follows suit. Luckily, the man knows a thing or two about light and heat. He produces a flame in his unpocketed hand as quickly and easily as most people breathe. Most trees would be perturbed at the sudden appearance of fire in their midst, but the trees of this forest are old and delight in the man's bright magic. You are so close, they whisper as the wind glides across their branches. She is just there. The snow, sensing its cue, begins to fall then, kissing the man on the top of his head, shoulders, and cheeks, melting against his skin like a lover. Come, come, the flurries beckon. You are very close. He does not hear them, but he feels a renewed determination, or perhaps stubbornness, as he sets his shoulders and forges ahead.

It is the light he notices first. He extinguishes the flame in his hand, thinking it a possible trick of eye, but no, he can definitely glimpse a glimmer of light up ahead. He notices the trees next, the way they have created a path for him, their branches curling elegantly overhead like living archways. Finally, pace quickening, he catches the scent of woodsmoke and food on the air. As he gets closer, the glimmer coalesces into a series of arcane lights, like too-still fireflies, leading a path up to the door of a home, now visible in the clearing, and wreathing it in gold. He feels a pang of nostalgia as he is reminded of a tree, far away, glowing with daylight in a city of eternal night.

He blames this rush of sentimentality for his lack of caution as he steps through the final archway. He does not sense the arcane wire until he has already tripped it. He hisses in pain, flinching backward, as bright, white light sears his retinas. Old habit brings his hands instinctively level with his face, palms outward, a position of readiness disguised as surrender. He hears what can only be the door ahead opening with a groan, and a woman's voice calls out from the light, full-throated and wary.

"Who's there?"

"My name is Caleb, Caleb Widogast." He replies, trying his best to keep his voice level and calm, despite his mounting discomfort at the fact that he cannot see. "I mean you no harm. I am looking for someone. I believe her name is Torvi. I met her once, some years ago, and I wish to speak with her, if I may." He pauses to allow a reply, but all he hears is the wind in the branches and the faint crackle of a fire. He can feel his pulse thumping nervously in his throat. He ventures to speak again. "I," he pauses, considering how direct he should be. "I met her in-- in a place called--"

"I know what the place is called." The woman's voice is not soft exactly, but it is no longer quite so sharp. The lights dim back to their firefly glow. "You are not the first person from Vergessen to find their way here." He thinks it might be sadness he hears in her voice and ventures to open his eyes slowly.

As the black splotches on his vision reduce, the woman comes slowly into focus. He notices first the book in a sling on her hip, dark leather stark against the golden yellow of her dress. Next, the dishcloth in her hands, giving the impression of being caught in the middle of a chore and undoubtedly hiding any number of spell components. It is not Torvi. Torvi's face is the first clear memory he has after ... after. He thinks he sees a resemblance, in the shape of her eyes, the sweet-apple roundness of her cheekbones, the broad curve of her nose, the pointed slope of her ears. Her jaw is different, though, more square, her shoulders more broad, her stature just a bit too tall. "May I ask who you are?"

"I'm Maeve, Torvi's sister." She beckons him with a tilt of her head. "Come on in."

Caleb approaches with greater caution this time, as Maeve steps back, opening the door further. He casts Detect Magic with a practiced twist of his hand and spots no further traps on the path ahead of him -- at least, none that are currently activated. There are, however, a dozen different wards that he can see around the perimeter of the clearing and a dozen more traps besides. It is some of the most intricately woven Abjuration magic he has had the pleasure of witnessing, and he regrets, for just an instant before he steps through the doorway, that he does not have time right now to investigate it further.

His beleaguered eyes adjust to the candle and firelight of the interior to take in a simple but well-appointed home. There are cabinets and a large work bench along the far wall. Herbs of all varieties hang from the rafters. There is a bookcase filled to bursting with books of all sizes, some of which glow with magic. There is a large dining table, crowned with a steaming cauldron of stew, and there, in a chair by the hearthfire, is Torvi. She has a blanket pulled around her, and she is leaning against one side of the armchair, her arm curled beneath her chin as a pillow, gazing into the hearthfire, seemingly lost in thought, or perhaps, just lost. She gives no indication that she has noticed him enter.

He has had weeks to get used to the idea of her being alive and not dead, as he had assumed her to be from the moment Ikithon took posession of her holy symbol all those years ago, but no amount of mental preparation could have prepared him for the experience of seeing her there exactly as he remembered her.

"This will hurt." The first words to cut through the clouds in a decade, as the heart-shaped face of a half-Elven woman, with dark-brown skin and sunlight-on-honey eyes, comes into focus, her warm hands caressing his face. "Like saltwater on a wound, it is necessary. There is so much you may yet do." Her expression shifts, then, from an apologetic smile to slack-jawed awe. Her eyes are bright as they rove across his face. "I see the face of Corellon in you."

Now that he is within the warmth of the home, Caleb cannot attribute the tingling numbness in his face and hands to the cold. His heart pounds against his ribcage, as desperate to escape as he suddenly is, but he manages to draw in a deep, shaky breath. Breathe, he reminds himself. He grips the charm in his pocket with all his strength, such as it is, and takes a deep breath again. Eins, swei, drei... It takes him a moment to realize that Maeve is looking at him expectantly. "Sorry?" He croaks.

"I said, if you want to speak with her, you'll have to wait, but if you're not in a hurry, she'll come around soon enough."

"Ah, ja, I can wait." He picks a point on Maeve's cheek, just below her eyes, to fix his gaze upon. Stay on task, Widogast. "I had hoped to speak with you as well. Perhaps, we can do that first." One of her eyebrows quirks upward.

"Alright," she says, after a moment. "We can do that over dinner. You can set your coat and things there" Though her words are phrased as suggestions, her voice rings with the authority of someone used to being listened to, as she motions to a coat rack by the door. Her eyes flick to his pocketed hand. There is still a wariness in the set of her shoulders, and the dishcloth still partly obscures one of her hands. Ah.

Caleb nods in acquiescence and acknowledgment, one paranoid arcanist to another, and removes the hand from his pocket slowly, palming the trinket as he does so. He turns away from her and divests himself of his scarf and coat, keeping the trinket in hand all the while. He keeps his eyes on the wood floor, the cob wall, the curling leaf design of the wooden coat hooks. When he turns back, Maeve has set three places at the dining table. "Ah, none for me, please," he says, waving a staying hand as he crosses to the table. She pauses, ladle suspended in midair, and her eyes pass over his thin form, even thinner now that he no longer has his coat, in frank, skeptical appraisal. Judging by the unimpressed look on her face, she finds him wanting.

"We feed our guests around here," she says, in the same authoritative tone, and ladles soup into each of the three bowls. Caleb's lips form a thin line, briefly, the only outward indication of his inward prickling at this insistence, but he quickly clears the frown from his face. He wants her amenable to his request, and if he has to eat a little, in spite of the knotted nerves residing where his stomach should be, so be it. He notices that his bowl, at least, is more broth than vegetable as Maeve retrieves a large loaf of crusty bread from a cupboard, tears off a large piece for each of them, and settles into the seat across the table from him. "So," she says, before digging into her bowl. "What did you wish to speak to me about?"

Caleb takes a deep breath. "Are you familiar with a man by the name of Trent Ikithon?"

Maeve stills. Her eyes meet Caleb's, wary and discerning. "I know of him -- he is one of the members of the Cerberus Assembly -- but I have never met him."

"Count yourself lucky," Caleb says, forcing his face into a wry smile. He launches into a monologue he has rehearsed many times over the past few weeks, detailing some of the crimes of his former mentor, how Ikithon used Vergessen as a base of operations, the ordeal of his trial and imprisonment, the nigh certainty of the involvement of other Assembly members in Ikithon's crimes, and the painstaking, fruitless search to find anyone willing to testify against them. Maeve's eyes stay on him all the while as she takes in every word with a quiet, steadfast focus that reminds him of another wizard he knows. "So," he says at last, after pausing to eat a small bite of broth-soaked bread. "If there is any evidence you can offer, any testimony of anything you or your sister might have witnessed --"

"No."

Caleb blinks once, twice, three times. "No?"

"No," she repeats, softly. "I admire what you are doing, but we cannot help you."

"If you are afraid of reprisals, I can assure you--"

"I'm fairly certain you can assure nothing where the Assembly is involved," she says, with a cynical smile, "no matter how powerful you or your friends with the Cobalt Soul are. But, nevertheless, I have no evidence to offer. I witnessed nothing, aside from my sister's declining health, which is too circumstantial to be helpful, and any evidence she might offer would not stand up in court of law."

Caleb's shoulders and head curl forward as her words hit him like a blow to the chest. He hazards a glance at the woman by the fire, who has not moved over the course of their conversation. "Is she so unwell?"

". . . No." Maeve drags the word out into two syllables. "She is much better than she was, but..." She taps a quick staccato rhythm against the side of her bowl with her spoon, before gazing across the room at her sister. "Torvi was not insane before she went to Vergessen, only inconvenient. When she was a teenager, she began performing miracles and wonders around our village, and she was not shy about declaring their provenance. She was always blessing people that they may 'walk in Corellon's beauty' or 'may the light of the Archeart guide them.'" Caleb's heart sinks as he guesses where this story is going. Maeve shrugs, her gaze dropping back to her bowl. "We got fined every time the Reapers came to town. The villagers didn't care, so long as their kid was healed or their shop brought in coin -- a blessing was a blessing. But she didn't stop there. She also went after the priest to the All-Hammer that kept the shrine in our village. She said he worshiped the Empire, not the Gods."

"I bet that made her a lot of friends in high places."

Maeve gives a snort of humorless laughter at this, her cynical smile returning. "No kidding. My parents made a deal with the lawmaster: instead of sending her to jail, they agreed that her worship of "false gods"--" she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers "-- was a sign of her obvious madness, and sent her to Vergessen instead." She pushes her soup around the bowl with her spoon. "They thought they were doing her a kindness. But, regardless," her eyes flash up to catch his, hard with grim certainty. "Even if she was completely well, I think we both know the word of a convicted heretic and idolator is worth very little in the eyes of the law."

Caleb rubs his tired eyes with a sigh, as his left hand worries at the charm. He has so much work yet to do. Da'leth, Margolin, Tversky -- they were all too close to the Volstrucker program not to have been involved. They had to be removed from power for any real change to take place, and his search for concrete evidence and testimony had been so fruitless. When he had found record of Torvi's discharge from Vergessen, it ... it had felt like a sign, he admits to himself, cringing a little at the irrationality of it. A sign that perhaps he was on the verge of a breakthrough. He unfurls his hand to reveal the trinket: a small disc of silver engraved with two moons backed by a four-pointed star.

Maeve, glimpsing the symbol, tilts her head curiously. "Are you a devotee of Corellon?"

The idea that someone could mistake him for a devotee of any god is strange enough to make him fumble the charm as he turns it over again in his hand. "Ah, I cannot say so, no. I have never been much for religion."

Maeve's gestures with her chin toward the book holstered at his side. "Why bother with the fickle will of Gods when us mortals can achieve so much on our own?" It is not really a question. There is a book on her own hip after all.

Caleb nods. "That is part of it." He turns the charm over in his hand again, and a memory rises to the surface of his mind: the soft, rhythmic clack-clack of wooden prayer beads as they sift through his mother's clever fingers. She kneels before the shrine of Pelor, eyes closed, the dawn light shining off her burnished copper hair, prayers whispering earnestly through her lips. Much good that it did her. "For a long time, it seemed to me the supposed benevolence of the gods was nothing but a cruel joke." Bless my son that he may live always in Your light. "My view is a bit softer now, but ..." Bless our Empire that we may bring light to the dark corners of the world.

Maeve nods. Her eyes gleam with a cold anger. "I rage at that one, sometimes," she says, her eyes darting toward the moonlit star in his hand. "And argue -- one-sided." A wry smile twists her lips.

The sudden scrape of metal on metal makes both of their heads turn at once toward the front window. It opens with a creak and in hops a tiny elf owl.

Maeve rises and crosses quickly to the window. "You've been eavesdropping, haven't you?" She asks, as she closes the window with a sharp snap. "It's very rude to keep your guest waiting." The owl's head swivels to gaze at Caleb, and he recognizes immediately the familiar glow of Fey magic in the bird's eyes. With another little hop, it takes flight from the window sill and lands on the table a foot from him. There is a long moment of silence as the bird looks him over, this way and that, and -- pip, pip, pip-- hops a little closer, faerie fire still burning its eyes.

Caleb remembers well the safe, comforting distance of viewing the world through a familiar's eyes. "I had a little owl like you once," he says, softly. A smile tugs at his lips as he remembers Frumpkin perched on Beau's shoulder, his tiny feathers ruffled by the ocean breeze. "Well, he was a cat really, but he was an owl for a little while."

"She is a bigger owl really," says the first voice he remembers from Vergessen. "But she is small for right now."

Caleb takes a deep breath. Eins, swei, drei... He forces himself to tear his eyes from the safe visage of the little bird and face her. She is not quite looking at him, but she is facing his direction now. He can see clearly now that the light reflected in her upturned eyes is not fire but Fey. "Do-- do you remember me, Schwester?"

"Of course, I do," she says, voice soft and warm.

Caleb rubs his thumb over the design on the charm one last time. "I brought this for you," he says, holding it out for the owl to inspect. "To replace the one that was taken." The owl bobs its head this way and that in a circular motion, and then snaps up the trinket so quickly that Caleb barely has time to worry for his fingers before the bird is midair again. She lands on the back of the chair, dropping the charm onto Torvi's waiting palm. Her hand closes around it, and as it does, the light in her eyes grows and brightens until they shine like twin stars from her face. They are bright enough that Caleb is not able to look at her long without needing to avert his weary eyes. It is not unlike the ways he has seen Jester and Caduceus' magic manifest at times, and he wonders what visions her deity is granting her, as Maeve resumes her seat across from him.

The room is quiet for a long while, save for the crackle of the hearthfire and the occasional scrape of Maeve's spoon against her bowl. The tiny owl is beginning to doze on the back of the chair, when the light disappears from Torvi's eyes with a blink, and she looks down at the trinket with her own eyes for the first time. "Beautiful," she whispers, as errant tears spill down her cheeks.

"Schwester..." It feels cruel to ask, another sin to add to the pile, but she is here now. Really here, and he has traveled all this way. He has to ask. "Schwester, is there anything you remember about your time at Vergessen, any evidence you can offer, any direction you can point me in, to help me bring down those who used that place for evil?"

Still gazing at the talisman, she tilts her head in a way that reminds Caleb of a curious bird and seems to consider his question for a moment. "You were the first one I restored in that place," she says at last. "Half mad and half cursed, so young and so full of Corellon's beauty and magic." The ghost of a smile curls around her lips as she rubs her thumb over the design on the charm in much the same way Caleb had a moment before. "And now you have done so many beautiful and important things." And ugly and terrible things, Caleb thinks wryly. The scales are not yet balanced.

"I just need to do a little more, Schwester." A phantom, stinging itch starts up in his forearms, and his fingers worry against each other for lack of the charm to turn between them.

Torvi's eyes meet his without warning, and he is caught like a startled creature in the sudden glimpse of sunlight.

"Fuck, if I ever have to sit in a courtroom again, it'll be too fuckin' soon," Beau says, stretching in the dim lamplight outside the tavern. He makes a noise of agreement, and she glances at him. "Y'know, Yasha's got some unfinished business in Xhorhas. We've been talking about taking off for a few weeks, few months maybe, to go back to her old stomping grounds..." She looks at Caleb sidelong, and he can read the concern in the slight shift in the pitch of her voice, the rising of her shoulders, the tilt of her head, though she plays it off well. He knows he looks like shit. It turned out listening to weeks of testimony against his abuser was not a great aid to his already-fitful sleep.

"Gut." He says, and he means it. "It will be good for her to get some closure. She deserves it, and you both deserve some time to yourselves." He offers her a smile he hopes is reassuring.

She nods, and between one breath and the next, her arms are around him. He allows himself to lean into her vice-like grip, hugging her back as hard as he can. "Take it easy, while we're gone, alright, man? We'll kick some more Assembly ass when we get back." She releases him at last and gives him a pat on the cheek. "Get some rest, man. You deserve it."

Caleb feels the heavy weight of his allotment of Trent Ikithon's platinum and gold in his coat pocket and knows that he does not. "Ja," he says. "I will. There's just a little more to do."

"And then what?" The question snaps Caleb's attention back to the present. Torvi is peering at him, her eyes seeming to search in his for an answer. "A little more, and then what? After you find this evidence you need, will it be a little more still, or will you rest?"

If he found evidence against Da'leth and the others, there would be more trials. The web would unravel further still, and he would have new threads to follow. Not to mention, the problem of the ex-Volstrucker scattered to the winds. "Well, you know what they say," he says with a sardonic grin. "There is no rest for the wicked." Torvi does not return his grin.

"You are not wicked." She says this with such certainty that it sparks a small flame of anger in his chest.

"How do you know?" He asks, more than a little petulantly.

"I know." And there is something in the compassionate depths of her sunlit eyes that makes Caleb think, inexplicably, that she does know. She knows what transpired before Vergessen and since. The flame in his chest is quenched thoroughly. He tears his gaze from hers at last, eins, swei, drei... "Alas," she continues, once his breathing has evened out again. "My memories from Vergessen are... muddled." She concludes quietly. "But if I think of anything helpful, I can contact you." He nods, his eyes on the floorboards, as disappointment washes over him.

"I suppose I'll be on my way then." He says, quietly, and rises from his seat. Maeve rises with him.

"I'd like a favor from you before you go," says Torvi, as he turns from the table. He looks up, in surprise.

"Name it."

"I'd like you to hold onto this for me," she says, holding the talisman out with a smile. "I'm always losing mine."

"It's true," mutters Maeve. "I'm always finding them in strange places."

"This one means a lot to me," Torvi says. "I don't want to lose it." She holds the charm out toward him insistently. "Keep it safe for me."

Maeve looks at him sidelong and sighs. "If you don't, she'll just find some way of sneaking it into your pocket as you leave."

"It's true," Torvi agrees, and there is mischief twinkling amidst the warm affection in her eyes, a particular mix that reminds him strongly of Jester. He crosses to her to take the trinket back, and as he does so, her fingers catch his. He feels a familiar warmth settle over him. "May you walk in Corellon's beauty, Bruder." When Maeve had said the words earlier, they had sounded trite to Caleb's ears, but Torvi's benediction was infused with such sincerity.

Caleb bends forward slightly, brushing his lips against her knuckles. "Danke, Schwester." She smiles at him warmly, as he releases her grasp and pockets the trinket.

Maeve opens the door for him as he hastily dons his scarf and coat and steps out into the frigid air. To Caleb's surprise, she follows him out onto the step, closing the door behind her. The clearing is now covered in a thin layer of snow, and their breaths create little puffs of fog in the dim glow of the arcane lights. Maeve leans out past the eave of the house for a moment to look up at the sky, but the stars are veiled with clouds. She frowns and straightens, crossing her arms. "Can I give you a little advice?" She asks, her voice pitched low, eyes following the meandering descent of a snowflake.

Caleb watches the snowflake, also, watches it spiral and drift, until it is lost in a sea of shadow. He is not sure he wants advice. He wants evidence, a direction to go in. He has lost his only lead, and now, he is back at square one.

"When I'm stuck on a spell," Maeve continues. "I find the best thing to do is take a break. Then, when I'm doing laundry or gardening or whatever, the solution will come to me." She reaches out a hand past the eave to catch some of the falling snow. "Even the Wildmother can't bloom all the time." A strong gust of wind swirls around them then, trying its best to push Caleb northward. Caleb adjusts his scarf and coat to stop its icy fingers from trailing down his neck, and Maeve shrugs. "Take it or leave it."

"Thank you," Caleb says with a nod. Maeve nods back and turns to re-enter the house, closing the door behind her with a soft thud.

Caleb steps off of the porch, re-casting detect magic with a twist of his hand. He wants to be well clear of the Abjuration magic before he attempts to teleport. The snow crunches under his boots as he makes his way down the row of lights, and the wind whistles in the tree branches and tries, once again, to tug him northward, pulling at his hair this time, loosening it from its tie.

The sharp, clean smell of the fresh snow reminds Caleb of Eiselcross... of Essek. The thought of reuniting with Essek had been a light at the end of the tunnel, during Ikithon's trial. He had even spent time crafting his own Sending spell, so he could contact Essek once the trial was over. When the day came, it had felt too selfish to use it. There was still so much to do.

And Essek isn't the only thing awaiting him in Eiselcross. In the underworld of Aeor lies a crucible, a final test of his tentative, hard-won, untrustworthy goodness.

Caleb walks much further than he needs to. The snowflakes try to kiss his worries away. When this doesn't work, they stop falling, leaving only the wind carding its fingers through his hair with alternating sweetness and frustration. It whistles some more to catch his attention, but he is too lost in his spiraling thoughts to hear it.

He does hear another noise, though, or thinks he does. He cannot find the little owl when he looks up to the tree branches, but he does see a star. A single star, bright enough to shine through a thinning in the veil, twinkling, safe and familiar...

Caleb swears under his breath and yanks a copper wire out of his pocket, before he can think better of it. He shapes it much like he has seen Jester do numerous times and takes a deep breath. He visualizes Essek, his lilac eyes, his high cheekbones, the iridescent freckles dusted across his twilight skin, the elegant curve of his jaw, the small dimples that appear on his cheeks when he smiles, really smiles, and speaks the magic word. "Hallo, Freund, I--" It occurs to him suddenly that, although it is a very reasonable 6:13 in the evening in this part of the Pearlbow Wilderness, it is much deeper into the night at Vurmas Outpost. "I apologize I didn't think of the time. I hope I'm not disturbing you." Nine words left. "Thinking I'll travel to you soon... to exchange theories?" The words leave his lips with the ghost of a smile, and he thinks he hears a smile in Essek's voice as well, when he responds:

"Caleb Widogast, it is good to hear your voice no matter the time of night. I can think of nothing else I would rather do."

Notes: I rather extended the limits of Read Object and Read Mind from the Knowledge Domain descriptions, because.

#*drags fic kicking and screaming onto Tumblr and tosses it into the void*#will this be of interest to anyone? is it any good at all? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#idk but I finally finished it so here it is #caleb widogast #and some OC's #my writing tag

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writings-of-a-daphodil · 4 years ago

Text

Fire Keeper: Chapter 21

Douxie x fem reader

Masterlist in Bio!

Series Summary: You are Jim’s older sister who is taking a break from college and has moved back home to Arcadia. You end up joining Jim and his friends on their adventures.

Chapter 21 summary: You're back in the future, but things don't go well.

Warnings: temporary death and grief

A/n: Wow, last chapter for a while, cue bittersweet emotions. I hope you like it!(sorry for any typos)

Jim’s words echoed in your head. “We need an edge. I'm sorry.”

You and Claire had protested, but he wouldn’t listen. “It's the only way!”

Then he had turned into that beast and told you to run. Which you did, and you regretted it. You couldn’t have stayed, but how could you leave? Guilt haunted you and you knew Douxie wasn’t doing any better.

His aura was overwhelmed with his own guilt over Merlin’s death. “It's all gone. Everything. The Heart of Avalon, Camelot...Merlin.” Douxie looked away, but you could see tears shining on his face.

“Maybe we should say a few words?” Claire suggested.

You nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, okay. Ahem. Battleship. November. Fruit punch.” Steve sobbed. “Purple!”

Douxie sniffed, turning around. “Oh, what can I say about Merlin? He was... he was, uh... He was everything. He was all that we had.”

“We'll get through this, together. We need you, Doux, now more than ever,” Claire consoled, handing Douxie Merlin’s book. “The world, our friends are in danger.”

“And the Order's about to kick off an arcane apocalypse,” Archie added, nuzzling Douxie.

You took a seat next to him. “In our line of work it’s hard to find the time to grieve and now it’s harder than ever with this new threat, but we’ll overcome it. We’ll figure out a way together.” You gave him a hug.

Douxie leaned into you and opened the book. He sighed. “But Merlin didn't tell me anything. And of course, he gave us a book that I can't even read. I mean, what is that supposed to be? Orcish? Elvish? Naga snake tribe?”

Archie gasped. “It looks like...Ancient Draconic.”

“Draconic?” Steve’s eyes widened in panic. “Dracula! Oh, no, Dracula!”

Claire rolled her eyes. “No...as in dragons.”

“As in...” Douxie trailed off.

“Charlemagne, the Devourer,” Archie finished, leaping into the air and transforming into a Dragon.

“Charlemagne, the Devourer. Keeper of the most sacred stones and treasures. A vicious dragon,” Douxie elaborated for yours, Claire’s, and Steve’s sake.

Archie circled the clearing landing on top of a piece of Camelot. “Which is why we shouldn't trouble him. Maybe someone else can translate.”

Douxie shook his head. “Come on, Arch! This is clearly about the Genesis Seals. And if the Order finds them first-“

“Yes, yes, yes, we're all doomed.” Archie proofed back into a cat. “I suppose we'll have to pay Charlemagne a visit.”

“What about Jim?” Claire asked as Douxie called the flying ship to him. “I need to find him.”

“I’m worried about him,” you added.

“Go back to Hex Tech. Research any dark magic that can help him,” Douxie advised.

“Claire, do you think you can handle that alone?” You asked. “I think I should go with Douxie.”

“Of course. I’ll save Jim and you keep Douxie from doing anything crazy.” She made a waving motion. “Okay. Let's go, Steve.”

“Aw! But the dragon quest!” Steve protested.

“What're you going to do, get eaten again?” Claire sassed and you laughed.

“If I can I’ll get you some pictures, Steve,” you promised.

“Thanks, Y/n,” he said, but you could tell he was still kinda pouting. Claire rolled her eyes and sent him through a portal.

“Also if it’s not too much trouble, could you have Toby feed Mao?” You asked her before she could disappear into her own portal. You had left your familiar back at Hex Tech with Toby and Nari seeing as it didn’t seem like a good idea to bring a kitten into the Arcane Order’s Castle. You couldn’t wait til this was all over so you could spend some quality time together.

“Will do,” Claire said, hoping into the void.

Douxie helped you onto the ship. “Well, let's hope we get some answers... before the Order does.”

You went over and leaned on one of the rails as Douxie put his staff in the key. The ship hummed to life and flew into the air.

“Here goes nothing,” Douxie whispered, turning the staff. The ship lurched forward and you fell against the rail.

“Do you know who to drive this?” You asked.

“Of course,” Douxie said at the same time Archie mouthed “No.”

Douxie turned the staff again and the ship shot ahead. You couched the rail, afraid that if you let go you’d fly off.

Douxie didn’t really talk and so you retreated into your thoughts. You were worried about Douxie. Sure, he was distracted now, but you knew Douxie and he was an open book. With you able to read his aura you could clearly seem the grief in it. It was so overwhelming, you were tempted to stop looking for auras, but you also wanted to understand how he was feeling.

Not only was their grief, there was blame and you knew he was blaming himself. Douxie liked to shoulder the world, you recalled how Strickler used to call Jim ‘Young Atlas’, but to you, the nickname seemed to fit Douxie perfectly. You wished he would let you take some of the weight.

His sadness was another overwhelming emotion and you wondered how he wasn’t curled into a ball and crying. You had a very strong instinct to go over and hug him and promise him that things will get better, but you were a little scared to let go of the rail, you would do it later though and you’d make him a pie for good measure.

Archie shouted directions and it wasn’t long before Douxie was lowering the ship to the forest.

You looked ahead to see a rogue tree sticking out of the canopy, but Douxie didn’t seem to notice.

“Douxie!” You screamed. “There’s a tree there!”

“I see it, love.” The ship made a sharp turn and you fell to the other railing, taking Archie down with you.

“Sorry, Arch,” You apologized.

“He may know how to drive everything from a car to a stagecoach, and he may have learned how to drive this, but it doesn’t mean he’s good at it,” Archie grumbled.

This time you held on a little tighter and the cold rail bit into your skin. You didn’t have to be uncomfortably gripping the rail for long though. Archie gave one last direction and the ship shot down, making a surprisingly gentle landing.

Douxie helped you down and looked to Archie. “You've told me tales of Charlemagne, the Devourer, for centuries.”

Archie hopped down. “The truth may be stranger than fiction.”

“Who is he?” You asked.

“Oh...I've heard terrible tales-whoever stole his treasure got baked alive into a blood pie,” Douxie explained.

“And burned, and singed,” Archie added. “Oh, here we are.”

“Sounds like this’ll be fun,” You muttered, shivering a bit from the cold night air.

Douxie looked down into the old well Archie had gestured at. “I really don't want to be a blood pie.”

“Let’s try to avoid that then. We aren’t here to steal his treasure, we are here to ask for help,” you said, looking into the well for stairs or a ladder.

Douxie stood on top of the well. “How do we get ther-“

Rocks slid and Douxie fell into the well. You winced as you heard him tumble.

“Oh, no!” Archie flew down after him and you hoped in as well, but instead of free falling like Douxie you levitated.

You touched down to see Douxie lying on the floor as Merlin’s staff hit him. “Ugh! All this...ugh-“ the book hit him “-for a book.”

“A very important book,” you reminded me, lighting your hands up with orange flames.

Douxie moved his staff around and screamed. You went to help him stand and you looked down to see the two of you were standing in the middle of a giant foot print. “Oh fuzz buckets.”

You heard and growl and you yelped. You and Douxie looked around for the source, ready to defend yourselves. “I do not want to be baked into a blood pie!” Douxie repeated.

THe ground shook and something stomped up from behind you. The two of you and you whirled around to see a huge white dragon.

“Oh...fuzz buckets,” Douxie whimpered and you grabbed onto his arm.

“We can do this,” you whispered. “We’ve battled a Nyarlagroth and won.”

Douxie didn’t respond, but the dragon did. “Look what the cat dragged in. Get it? 'Cat drag-in'! It's a play on words!” He laughed a big hearty laugh that made you smile despite your fear. “I slay myself! Archie? My cuddly little shapeshifter. Come here.”

“Oh, Father!” Archie touched his face to the dragon and your eyes widened. Not that you knew they were related, you could see it, they had the same eyes.

“When did you get so big?” Charlemange asked.

Archie rolled his eyes. “Very funny, yes. You don't see me talking about all those grey scales, do you?”

“What? Charlemagne, the Devourer, is your father?!” Douxie concluded, lessening his tight grasp on your arm.

“Dad, these are my dear friends, Douxie and Y/n,” Archie introduced and you gave a small wave.

“Nice to meet you, sir.”

“So, I finally get to meet your wizard familiar. Mm! Which one is it?” Charlemange looked between you and Douxie.

“I am.” Douxie cleared his throat. “Um, pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Charlemagne, the Devourer.”

Charlemagne laughed. “Please. My friends call me 'Charlie'. Let's retire to my dragon's den.”

As you walked you gently nudged Douxie. “And you thought you were gonna get eaten.”

“This guys is the most feared dragon out there, you can’t blame me.”

“Don’t worry, your screams were cute.” You kissed his cheek and went to stand next to Archie.

Charlie lit the fire. “I'm sure Archibald told you all about my famous blood-berry pies.” He set a gigantic pie down in front of you and you admired the craftsmanship.

“'Blood-berry'?” Douxie asked, shaking his head. “There's no time for tea! The Arcane Order is back. They-“

“Killed Merlin,” Archie finished.

“Merlin's...dead? So, you're after the Seals, hmm?” Charlie asked.

Douxie nodded. “And we think this will tell us how to find them.”

“Hmm. Of course.” Charlie took the book and opened it. “He never wrote anything in large print. Mm. Ancient Draconic.” He gasped. “The first letter is an 'H'.”

“Aw, come on! We don't have forever! The world's at stake here!” Douxie shouted, frustrated.

“I'll need my reading glasses. Be back in two shakes of a wyvern's tail.” Charlie promised. “Where did I put those things?”

Douxie snapped to Archie. “Oh, a 'real monster', eh?”

Archie licked his paw. “You think you're the only one with father issues, hmm?”

“Archie, why did you make your dad sound like a terrifying beast?” Douxie asked.

“They're here somewhere!” Charlie yelled from across the room.

Archie sighed. “Truthfully, I was embarrassed. Dad's a walking pun factory. The legends seemed better than the truth. Then again, compared to Merlin, who was...”

“Not the type to make tea and biscuits,” Douxie finished.

“Yes. And now that he's, well, gone, I'm more worried about you. You know you can talk to me, right?” Archie asked.

“We’re here for you, Doux. I know what you’re going through,” you added.

Douxie took a seat and you followed suit, wrapping him into a hug. “I can't help but think...what if Merlin was more like Charlie? If he hadn't saved me in that alley-” Douxie sighed “-would I be a completely different wizard?”

“We don't get to choose everyone that comes into our lives,” Archie said.

Douxie looked down. “Or when they leave.”

You gave a small smile and Archie came over to join your hug. “You’re exactly who you should be, Douxie,” you consoled.

“Ta-da!” Charlie said, coming back over. “Would you believe they were on my head the whole time?”

You gave a small chuckle as Douxie held up the book. “Please. Just tell me what it says.”

Charlie looked at it thoughtfully. “Mm. 'Hisirdoux, if anyone could figure this out, it'd be you. Since you're reading this, clearly, I'm dead. I kept many secrets close at hand, but now I entrust you with this, my final one. The Genesis Seals can be reached by destroying my staff.'

Douxie jumped to his feet, retreating away from everyone. “What? Wait, destroy his staff?”

“There's no time to waste, my boy. You've got a world to save!” Charlie said

Douxie clutched the staff. “A wizard's staff is everything to them. Look, are you sure that you translated it correctly?”

Charlie swiped at Douxie, trying to get the staff. “Uh!” He yelped, coming to the edge of a small cliff.

“Hey!” You yelled.

“Dad!” Archie scolded.

“Wait! Don't rush me!” Douxie begged, raising his hand, a spell ready.

“Douxie, Dad, play nice!” Archie called, trying to mediate.

“Guys! We can talk this out!” You added, ready to use your own magic to stop any fighting.

“Careful, boy. You're playing with fire,” Charlie growled, letting out a string to show Douxie he wasn’t kidding.

“Oh, dear,” Archie whispered.

“Never challenge a dragon,” Charlie roared. You and Archie rushed to stand between the two.

“Father, Hisirdoux, I miss him, too. But you know, Merlin's not the only family you had,” Archie pointed out.

Charlie sighed, baking down. “He's right. Family isn't only who you have. It's also who you're with. Did you know, Archibald used to be the cutest little dragon you've ever seen?” Charlie turned around and showed you a picture frame. You squealed. It was a picture of Archie as a baby nestled in what you assumed was his egg, wearing Charlie’s glasses.

“That is just too cute!” You squealed.

Archie gasped. Father, please! Burn that!

Charlie shook his head. “Archie always wanted to explore the world, even before he took his first form. And when he chose a cat, that broke my dragon heart. He became a familiar- a lower profession. But if a cat is what he wants, a cat is fine with me. I realized I had to let him go, so he could spread his wings and soar. And accepting that set me free. And r-r-r-right now, your people look to you-to stand up, to lead.” Charlie let out a breath and a sort of brownish mist swirled around Douxie. Smiling figures of Steve, Claire, Jim, you, Archie, and Merlin appeared in it.

“I know you're still grieving.” Charlie continued. “I know this is too much. But in order to save your family-to save the world-you must let him go.”

The mist cleared and Douxie looked up to Charlie, determination burning in his eyes. “Do it. Destroy it.”

Charlie nodded and Douxie held up the staff as flames engulfed it. Douxie braced himself against the ground, tears streaming down his face. He screamed and the staff shattered, letting out a blast of blinding green light. The light faded, but Douxie was nowhere to be found.

“Douxie!” You and Archie yelled.

You rushed over to the pieces of the staff and picked up the remains. “What happened?”

“If I had to guess, he went into a wormhole Merlin created to store the seals in,” Charlie said. “We just have to give Douxie his time.”

You nodded. “Okay...”

Charlie came up from behind you. “I have more baby pictures of Archie to show to pass the time.”

“Father!” Archie complained as you moved back over to the pie.

“Feel free to have some,” Charlie called over his shoulder while he looked for the pictures. You did as he suggested and got yourself some. Honestly you were shocked when you bit into it. It was warm and gooey and utterly amazing. The crust was perfect and flaky as well. The pie was perfect and you said as much.

Charlie thanked you as he came back over and handed you the photo album. You went to open it but paused. “Could I take a picture of you please? My friend, Steve, wanted to meet you, but he had to go with our other friend, Claire. It’s a long story.”

“Of course,” Charlie beamed and you took out your phone. “Say cheese!” You called, snapping a picture of Archie and Charlie. You took a few more for good measure and then sat down to look at the baby pictures.

You had no clue why Archie was so embarrassed of them. He was the most adorable baby dragon you had ever seen, though you hadn’t seen many of them. The pictures of him learning to fly were your favorite. Charlie was in the background of some of those, encouraging Archie. Seeing how cute baby Archie was really cheered you up.

You were only on the seventh page though, when a cloud of green fog billowed out of nowhere from the corner of the room. When it cleared away Douxie was standing there.

“Douxie!” You yelled, immediately jumping up.

“Mordrax's miracles, you found them!” Archie exclaimed and you looked at what Douxie was holding.

Charlie smiled. “Well done! I knew you'd do it, little buddy!”

Douxie admired them. “The Genesis Seals! Now we just need to get back to Hex Tech and regroup.”

~~~~

“Um, Doux!” You called as you looked down to the street Hex Tech was on. “You need to see this.”

Shards of ice were all over the place and bits of everything was burning. There was no sight of your friends.

Douxie gasped as he hopped out of the ship. “No! No, no, no. No, no, no! No!” You all rushed over to Hex Tech, but the lights were off and ice was everywhere. “Claire! Steve! Nari!” Douxie called. “What happened here?”

You heard someone groan and you rushed over to see Krel. He was trapped in ice and looked on the edge of consciousness.He wasn’t the only one you saw though, Mao was licking away at the ice trapping Krel. You grabbed her and waited for DOuxie to free your Akiridion friend.

“Krel! No.” Douxie blasted the ice that was trapping Krel and you moved to heal him.

“Where is everyone?” You asked.

Krel groaned. “Couldn't stop them. Took Nari. Oh, wait! He can show you.” He stood up and grabbed the head of a glitching robot with a human face. You shivered a bit at the creepy sight.

“Wahoo! How are you, buckaroo?” The robot head asked. Krel pressed a button and a video of Krel screaming and running appeared on a big screen. There was a lot of screaming as the camera was rolled around until Toby grabbed it.

“This looks like the end!” He cried. “I leave my classic VHS action movie collection to my nana and my warhammer to Y/n!” The video was taken from Toby and showed the fiery person from the Arcane Order who crushed the camera.

With that the video cut out. “That's all fo-beep-boop,” the robot said.

You continued looking at the screen in horror. “Not them too.” You squeezed your eyes shut as tears ran down your face. You hated the Arcane order. Gumar had already taken so much from you and here they were to finish it off.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no! This wasn't supposed to happen! No! Oh, please tell me there's something in here to help,” Douxie begged, setting Merlin’s book on a table leafing through it.

Archie put his paw on it, covering some of the words. “You don't need the book to tell you the answer, Doux. Merlin was clear. If the Order has Nari, we can't let them get the Seals, or it's arcane Armageddon.”

“But I can't just leave our friends to die!” Douxie protested.

“No we can’t,” you stated, determined. Your friends were not going to die. You weren’t gonna lose anyone else.

“It's not easy being a leader,” Krel said.

“The Order will never stop coming after the seals,” Archie reminded and you nodded.

Douxie sighed. “We'll spend the rest of our lives running.”

“Save our friends or save the world? You have to make a decision. We're out of time!” Krel complained.

Douxie’s head snapped up. “Or maybe...time is all we have.”

“What do you mean?” Archie asked, but it hit you.

“We send the Arcane order through time,” you concluded.

“It’s a crazy idea, but it just might work. Arch, remember how before we met Merlin we used to do the Lad of Fortune trick with the cup to earn money? We do that, but inside the cup is a smaller heart of Avalon. Krel you mentioned something about magic and Acaridian tech earlier, can you fashion something out of the heart of Avalon that will send the Arcane order through time?”

Krel shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Well, ‘maybe’ is all we’ve got right now. We can only hope this works. Let’s get to work!” Douxie exclaimed.

You turned to him. “I’m gonna go leave Mao with my mom, but I'll be back to help soon, okay?”

“Okay, stay safe.” He kissed you and you wished you didn’t have to go. You wished you and Douxie could just hang out and date like a normal couple, but alas, the fate of the world was in your hands.

~~~~

You made it back just in time for Douxie to explain his plan to you. He, Krel, and Archie had gotten a lot down in the short amount of time you had been gone and were ready to put the plan into motion.

You watched as Douxie closed his eyes, projecting himself so he could talk with the Order. “Arcane Order, Hisirdoux is here!” He spoke. ”Ah-ah-ah-ah--! Hold your hexes if you still want these.” He held up the seals and you realized how weird it was to be on the other side of astral projection. “You want them?” Douxie asked. “Well, come and get them. I'll be at the cafe.” Douxie’s eyes opened and gave you a thumbs up before he turned to walk over to Krel.

“Your designs were complicated, but I'm 98.442 percent sure that this will work.” He set the device down and it spun to life. “Akiridion tech and magic are so compatible! Who would have thought?” Krel laughed.

“No turning back now,” Archie said as Douxie picked up the little-yet very important-trinket Krel had made.

“Wasn't planning on it. Arch, pass me those salad bowls, then head out. Y/n, prep the airship,” Douxie requested.

“I'll always follow you, Doux, but this could be a huge mistake,” Archie warned.

“'A wizard doesn't make mistakes-he makes unexpected possibilities,'” Douxie quoted, courage and determination ringing through his voice.

You smiled at him nervously as you walked out the door. “Stay safe and don’t forget you still owe us brunch.”

~~~~

“Hold on, big guy. I'm about to bust you out. Agh! Cheap lighter!” Steve whined as you entered the room. You nodded to Archie and he sent his own fire to free Aaarrrgghh.

“I did it! Sir Steve is your savior!” Steve cheered and you rolled your eyes.

“Helpful as always, Steve,” Archie said as he flew around freeing everyone. You sent your own blasts of fire, but you were distracted by Jim, or what was supposed to be him. You knew your brother had to be in there somewhere, but whoever was in control of him was not your Jim.

The beast roared at Archie, ready to fight and you got ready to protect, but Aaarrrgghh stepping, punching Jim. “Please stop, Jim!” Aaarrrgghh growled. “Don't make me hurt you, Master Jim!”

“Stop it, Jim!” You scolded, your big sister instincts kicking in as he hit Aaarrrgghh .

“Wingman, no!” Toby cried as Jim punched Aaarrrgghh again, knocking him down. Toby ran over there, ready to face the beast if it meant saving his wingman.

“No!” Claire called as Jim got ready to punch Toby. You were ready though and sent a shield their way. An orange sphere blossomed protecting them, but Jim never attacked.

A guitar riff played and you knew that Douxie had arrived. Jim covered his ears and you laughed, your Jim wouldn’t enjoy this type of music either.

“How about a little music to soothe the savage beast? Is everybody all right?” Douxie asked, knocking Jim out with his guitar-staff.

You rushed over to him. “Did it work?”

Douxie nodded. “So far so good. Now we just need to get everyone out. Is everyone all right?”

“Douxie!” Toby exclaimed. “I'd hug ya, but I can't move my arms.”

“Where is the Arcane Order?” Claire asked, getting to her feet.

“I have them preoccupied.” He gasped. “What's the Queen of the Apocalypse doing here?”

“What I should have done long ago-deal with my brother,” she said, moving past Douxie. “Get your injured to safety.”

You moved to help Aaarrrgghh up. “We need to find Nari.”

“Nari!” Douxie exclaimed. “She's not here with you?”

Claire shook her head. “They locked her up somewhere. Douxie, did you get the Seals?”

“Uh...” Douxie hesitated. “I'll explain later. Let's go.”

“Grab Jim,” Claire requested.

Aaarrrgghh grunted. “Got him!”

You raced out of the castle and to a ledge were Douxie whistled. The ship rose out of the clouds, hitting the castle. You winced and covered your ears as metal on metal screeched.

“Whoa, whoa! Whoo-hoo! Whoa! Sorry, sorry! I'm still getting the hang of it,” Krel apologized.

“All right, everyone on board. Krel will take you down to Arcadia. I have to get Nari, see my plan through to the end,” Douxie explained.

Douxie held out his hand to help you onto the ship, but you didn’t take it. “I’m coming.”

“No, you go with them. You need to keep them safe.”

“Fine.” You took his hand and hopped on. As he walked away you could only hope that he would be safe. You hated not going with him, but you also knew he was strong and could handle himself. The Arcane Order were still going through time anyways.

You went to take the steering staff from Krel, hoping you’d be a slightly better driver.

“He’ll be okay,” Claire soothed and you nodded.

“What should we do about Master Jim?” Blinky asked.

“Restrain him,” you replied, raising your hands to perform the spell, but before you could his eyes snapped open.

“Oh, no!” Claire yelped.

“Oh! No, no, no! Go back to sleep, Big Jim!” Steve yelled, trying to whack Jim with his axe. Jim caught it and sent Steve flying over the edge.

“Steve! No!” Claire yelled as Jim sent the axe flying right at you. Toby pushed you aside and the axe hit the staff instead, sending the ship spiraling out of control.

The ground grew closer and closer and you sent a spell to slow your fall. “Hold on!” you screamed. The ship bounced on the ground and you all fell from it.

You did your best to shield everyone, but you still had a nasty fall. You were very glad you hadn’t been impaled by a branch from the tree you had somehow landed in.

"Y/n! Claire!” Toby screamed and you hopped down from your branch to see Aaarrrgghh and Jim fighting.

“Jim!” Claire cried.

“Aaarrrgghh remind Jim who he was.” Aaarrrgghh pinned Jim to the ground.

“Master Jim, snap out of it! We are your friends,” Blinky tried.

“Your family!” You added, blasting him with a stun spell. It only seemed to enrage the beast though and he threw Aaarrrgghh onto you, Krel and Blinky.

Your back hit your old tree and you felt the wind get knocked out of you.

“Oh, no!” You heard Toby gasp. “Come on, Jimbo. It's Toby, your best friend. Oh, no, oh, no!” Jim roared turning to Toby, but Claire sent a portal and Toby popped in next to you.

“Jim Lake Jr., I know you can hear me! I know you're still in there!” Claire yelled as you got up. Her eyes glowed purple and Jim’s golden outlining turned the same color.

“Get out of my head!” Jim roared, attacking CLaire who portaled away.

“I promised I'd come back for you! Now fight it, Jim!” Claire begged sending a swirling blast of magic at Jim when he continued to charge.

“No! My soul belongs to the king!” Jim growled. You got ready to take over the fight when a blast shook the ground, knocking you back down.

“Morgana!” Claire yelled, but her voice turned into a scream.

“Jim, no!” You got up again, already chanting a spell.

“Oh, no!” Toby cried as Jim squeezed Claire.

“Claire!” Blinky called.

“I love you, Jim. We all do. Please...” she begged and his markings once again faded to purple.

You were soon distracted though by a piece of the castle crashing to the ground on top of Morgana and Arthur.

Another blast almost sent you to the floor, but you braced yourself. As the energy faded you looked over to Jim.

“Claire? Y/n?” He asked.

Claire smiled. “There you are!”

Jim beamed, but your euphoria faded when you saw stone spreading over him.

“Oh, no!” Toby cried.

“Claire!” Jim panicked. “Y/n?!”

“Jim! Jim!” She sobbed. “No! Jim! No! No!”

You sank to the ground. “No! Not again, This will not happen again. We’ve already lost too much.” You buried your face in your hands as sobs wracked your body. In the few seconds that Jim had been yours again, hope had built itself inside of you and now it was getting destroyed. It felt like your heart was getting ripped out of you.

Jim was gone again, and unlike last time you had seen him die. It was. over, there was no way you could get lucky enough to get your brother back again. It was over now and this time you’d actually half to tell your mom.

You sobbed harder, it just wasn’t fair. Jim couldn’t be gone, he had barely lived his life. Sure he had his fair share of great adventures, but that didn’t make it any better. You may have your memories, but all you wanted was to have Jim back.

You only stopped sobbing when you heard a crack.

You looked over to see Jim breaking apart. You began to sob even more, angry at the world that wouldn’t let him be. You couldn’t even have his statue apparently.

After a while you felt a hand on your back and you looked up, expecting it to be Claire, Toby, Steve, or even Douxie, but who you saw shocked you even more. Jim, human Jim was smiling at you. “Y/n...”

You stood and wrapped him in a tight hug. “You’re okay! I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too.” You stayed there, hugging him for a while, trying to soak up all the happiness you were feeling from your brother. You couldn’t believe he had lived, but you were so so happy that he had.

Now to make this day even better Douxie would come. Nari and Archie had already arrived, you were just waiting on your boyfriend to figure out the next phase of the plan.

You looked up though when a blast rocketed across the sky. Your eyes immediately found Douxie’s body falling through the debris.

You barely registered Steve and Toby shouting as you and Nari took off. The forest blurred behind you as you ran. This could not be happening. You had just gotten Jim back and now Douxie was free falling to his death. The world could be so cruel.

A flash of blue light briefly lit up the clearing in front of you and you raced to its source. Douxie was lying on the ground and you could barely sense his aura. You dropped to your knees and searched for a pulse and though you found one, it was so small there was nothing you could do, not that both you and Nari wouldn’t try.

You placed your hands on his chest and went through every magical healing spell you knew, even trying normal things a human paramedic would do, but nothing worked.

Your emotions were thrown right back into the dark lands of grief.

“I can’t be too late. Come on Douxie. You’re gonna be okay. You can’t leave me here. I can’t do this without you. You can’t die now. I need you,” you sobbed, tears soaked Douxie’s jacket as you mourned.

You couldn’t even process it. Your emotions had been thrown through a blender and it hurt so much. Your heart ached with the pain of knowing that this time you had actually lost Douxie. There was a small part of you that was still hoping though, maybe today was a day of miracles and Douxie would live?

The demons that had taken over your rational thoughts laughed at that idea. More tears fell as you sank deeper and deeper into despair, grief and guilt. Maybe if you had run faster or convinced Douxie that you could take on the Arcane Order with him, then he would still be with you.

You barely heard your friends talking and were only relieved from your dark thoughts by the impossible, Douxie’s chest was moving.

“Y/n...?” Archie asked and you realized that he had been on your shoulder, lying on Douxie with you.

Douxie coughed. “Eh...?”

“You’re okay!” You cried, jumping into his arms.

Archie copied you. “Douxie! You brave, foolish boy.”

Douxie groaned. “But everything hurts.”

Claire smiled. “I can't believe you're okay.”

Archie laughed. “Barely! Seems you're the one with nine lives. And don't you ever do that again.”

“Happy you're alive, Teach,” Claire said as the two of you plus Steve helped him up.

“Easy,” Douxie rasped. “I just came back from beyond the grave. But wait, where's Jim? Mordrax's miracles. It seems I've missed a lot.”

“Same, but glad to be back,” Jim said.

Douxie looked around. “What about Arthur?”

“Squished,” Aaarrrgghh grunted.

“Indeed,” Blinky confirmed. “And I'm afraid with their demise, Excalibur...”

“Is right over here!” Toby yelled, racing over to try only for the sword to not even budge. “Okay, I just had to try. It’s kinda fun. Y/n you should try.”

You chuckled. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Honestly you just didn’t want to let go of Douxie.

“What of you, Master Jim?” Blinky questioned.

“What?” Jim asked.

You helped Douxie forward. “Jim, Blinky's right. With Arthur gone, someone needs to wield Excalibur.”

“Who better than the Trollhunter?” Claire pointed out.

Jim looked down. “But without the amulet, am I still the Trollhunter?”

“This means nothing, Jim. If I've learned anything, it's that we don't draw strength from magic artifacts like amulets and swords. Our strength is something far less enchanted, but no less special—our friends. We are the protectors of this world. That's why I made the gamble I did: because the only way to stop the Arcane Order and save this world...is to do it together,” Douxie explained.

“Are you sure our Douxie came back from the dead? This one is super sappy,” Claire joked.

“Cheeky,” Douxie said and you all laughed, but you noticed Douxie stopped soon after. “It's time Nari and I got a move on, before the Order catches up.”

Claire frowned. “You're leaving? Already?”

“Yeah, you just finished a whole speech about saving the world together,” Steve reminded, as Douxie, Nari, and Archie got onto the slightly damaged ship.

“Where are you going?” Jim asked, coming up to stand next to you.

“I promised Merlin I'd keep Nari safe, which means taking her far away from here. Don't worry, I'll be seeing you champions of Arcadia soon enough,” Douxie reassured.

“We’ll make sure to visit, we just have to keep moving. Staying in one place too long will give them time to catch up to us,” you added, climbing onto the ship.

“We?” Douxie asked and you took his hands.

You gave a small smile. “Yeah ‘we’. You’re gonna need me.”

“What if you get hurt?”

“We’ll have each other's backs,” You said, petting Archie. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You turned to wave goodbye to your friends and family. It was a bittersweet ending, but like Douxie had said, you would see them again soon.

****

Yay! It's done-ish!! I can't wait for the movie so I can finish it!! I really hope y'all enjoyed this series and I can't wait to write more for Douxie. Thank you all so much for your kind comments and I hope y'all will have a fantastic and safe weekend.💙 And happy Halloween!!

P.S. if you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

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