#talys hates his family

[talysalankil]

y'know, i hate that i 100% saw it coming when my mom adopted two cats two years ago, but i really wish she'd stop sending me pictures of how one of them is apparently constantly missing me since i moved out. like. thanks mom. what was i supposed to do here, we adopted siblings so they'd remain bonded so we couldn't separate them, plus he's probably too anxious to be moved anyway, so like, what, should i have waited for them to die before i move out (by which point my mom would have gotten another cat or two since she's never been more than a couple months without cats, and they would also have grown attached to me)? am i gonna have to suffer a perpetual guilt trip from now on?

[goddessofroyalty]

While I tagged the childhood friends Jayvik ask with Zaun Family it's probably not the version of the verse where Silco gets Zaun Representive.

Because tiny!Jayce is determined enough that he would get over his fear of the big scary Zaun Representative and give Silco letters he's written to Viktor (he figures they can at the very least stay penpals right?). And then Silco, who will ultimately buckle to his children if they are annoying enough, has Viktor begging him to take him to Piltover with him one day so he can see Jayce again.

[arolesbianism]

I should rly start eternal gales posting again I need to make sure the ppl who follow me know how much Tali and Aris make me to insane so that the isat au can have its full effect but alas I am allergic to drawing the human eg cast like 99% of the time and rn the only thing stopping that from being 100% is that I like fucking around with different art styles sometimes

[katz-rambles]

Hi ! Could we have a childhood friends to lovers ViktorxReader please ? 🥰 I am CRAVING for new works

Yess!! I love this trope it's sooo cute!!

2k words, so I hope you enjoy, Anon!

(fluff, gn!reader, reader is a professor, making out, getting caught, Viktors a bit of a tease (when is he never though), I think this is it!)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

When your family left the under-city, you knew everything would change. You were glad that it happened, it opened a whole bunch of doors for what you could become when you grew into an adult. But it also meant leaving your old life behind, one of the things you still think about to this day. Your heart aches when you think about the people you knew, you just hope that they ended up in a good place. When the shimmer trade spiked, you thought you'd never see any of the people you knew ever again, most of them probably either succumbed to the drug, or was killed during the many times the enforcers went down. You didn't like to think about it, but it's the harsh reality of Piltover.

Now you're walking the halls of one of the most esteemed universities inside of piltover, not as a student, but as a professor. You climbed your way to the top, and you know that your family is proud of you. They're the only reason this became possible, so when you got offered, you jumped at the chance. You're not complaining either, it's a well paying job with good benefits.

The day seemed to be going by incredibly slow, each hour felt like a year. You had a pile of tests on your desk that you had to mark, you've gotten through about half of them. But there's only so much marking someone can take before you feel like ripping your hair out.

So, instead of ripping your hair out, you decide to go on a coffee run and get some fresh air. You've been inside your office for so long, you're surprised you're still standing. One of the downsides to being a professor.

The walk to the Cafe down the road from the university isn't a long one. It's about three minutes, so long enough that you can get some well needed fresh air, but not long enough that you're regretting your decision.

When you reach the university, hit coffee in hand, you run into one of your former students, Jayce Talis. He gives you a friendly wave and comes up to you, “hey, professor. How's your day been?” He asks, awkwardly trying to make small talk and you have to cover your smile by pretending to clear your throat. “It's been well, thank you for asking. How's yours been?” You smile at him, not wanting to seem impolite by just ending the conversation there. He shrugs and sighs, you get the feeling.

Just when you're about to ask a question someone calls Jayce over, and when you both look over you're met with the sight of someone who you thought died long ago, but there he is, standing right in front of you, his cane in hand. You've heard of hextech, you're not in your office that much, and you've heard that Jayce didn't do it alone, but you never knew who his lab partner was. You also know that Heimerdinger has an assistant, but you were never able to catch said assistant's name. But you expected everything and anything, but him. You could have sworn he was dead.

“Viktor,” you manage to get out, although it's been years since you've last seen him, the memories you two made together as children stay fresh in your mind. Plus, he's incredibly attractive, everything from his overgrown hair to the way he leans on his cane, still managing to be taller than you, though not by much. It all had your mind swarming. His eyes rake over you before he looks back to your eyes, “Milý,” he breathes, a faint smile on his face as he continues, “you’re.. ehh.. hi.” He chuckles, standing a bit straighter on his cane. Before either of you can say anything else, Jayce buts in, “I hate to ruin a good moment, but the council wants to see us, Viktor.” Viktor nods and gives you one last nod before limping after Jayce.

Seeing someone who you hadn't seen in a good decade or so was not on your bucket list. You sit down in the chair behind your desk and lean back, letting your head just barely dangle off the back of the chair. You bring your hands up and rub your face, taking a deep breath and groaning. The sound is muffled by your hands. You sit back up again and sigh, you shouldn't feel this way. But you can't deny the way that you felt your heart race when you saw him again, he has such a boyish charm that just pulls you in, the same as is it did when you two were kids. You just chalk it up to a shock factor, you haven't seen him in years. You're just shocked, that's what you tell yourself.

The whole day all you can think about is him, you almost feel giddy, almost like a schoolgirl again. You take a breather, you've made a good amount of progress on the tests so you can afford a quick walk. Plus you have a class soon, and your classroom is on the other half of the university, and you've still got to set up your notes, you internally groan at the thought of giving another lecture. This is your fourth today.

When you finally reach the classroom, the professor that was using the room before you is just finishing cleaning up. You opened the door, only to be met with Viktor and Jayce, and then Heimerdinger soon after. You give a polite nod to Heimerdinger, and smile at Jayce and Viktor. You take your bag off and grab your notes, placing them on the table in front of you, before speaking up, “I thought your lecture ended a while ago, what are you still doing here?” You try and make your tone seem polite enough to cover up the, almost, rude question.

It's Jayce that speaks up first, “Heimerdinger thought it would be a good idea for us to sit in for one of your lectures, since the subject your an expert in is arcane.” You nod and chew the inside of your cheek. You're an amazing talker, and can easily give an hour long lecture, but with Viktor there, you feel anxious at the thought. Although it makes sense, hextech deals with arcane and what better person to listen to than someone who's an expert in it. You try and finish setting up without letting your mind wander too much, but your eyes keep on drifting from the papers in front of you to Viktor. When you look over at him, you find him already staring and he quickly looks away from you.

Now it's just a matter of waiting, you have ten minutes until your class starts so why not help Jayce and Viktor with their problems. You let them, mainly Jayce oddly enough, to ask you any questions they may have and you answer them to the best of your ability. Soon enough your class starts and you have to push away the temptation of staring at Viktor the whole time. Though, a few times you caught him, out of the corner of your eye, looking at you, and you embarrassingly stumbled over your words those times. You swear you saw the ghost of a smirk on his face at your reactions. Everything about him is so damn enticing, it's infuriating. How can one man be so wonderfully perfect, it doesn't make sense to you.

After your lecture, you're leaning over your desk, your mind swarming with thoughts, some not as innocent as you'd like.

When you're met with a hand on your back that has you letting out an embarrassingly loud yelp. Lo and behold, Viktor’s standing right behind you, with a smirk on his lips. “You seem awfully.. eh.. jumpy today, is everything alright?” He asks, moving his face closer to yours, and your heart is racing so fast you're convinced it'll jump out of your chest. His hand on your back moves lower until he rests it on the curve of your hip, gently squeezing it. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired.” You sigh, doing your best to not stutter or hesitate on your words. Viktor chuckles, the sound is something you'd pay to hear again, and moves his face closer to yours again. “Well, we can't have one of the best professors sleeping on the job. Now can we?” If it weren't for the teasing lift to his words you'd think he was actually concerned, but you both know that you're he's not actually. He almost immediately caught onto your lie.

You have to crane your neck at an, almost, uncomfortable angle to be able to see his face. You have to loft your face up for your neck to not be strained too much and you unintentionally bring your faces closer together. In the moment everything feels heightened, you're more aware of him. The hand he has on your hip feels heavier, you can feel the heat coming from his body from the proximity of you two, and you can smell him, a wonderful scent mixed with oil from the lab, the salty smell of the bay, and the knee-weakening scent of his cologne. Right now, everything about him feels intoxicating.

His hand lifts from your hip and to your back, carefully nudging you to turn around so you two are fully facing each other. He then places his hand on your chin to lift your face up, once again. He lets go and grabs your hand, placing it on his chest before speaking, in such a quiet tone you almost didn't hear him, “do you feel that?” Under your palm you can feel each beat of his heart, it's fast, probably just as fast as yours is. All you can muster is a nod. “That's what you're doing to me.” He sighs and brings his face closer to yours, the sound of his words mixed with the tone of his accent is something you're slowly becoming addicted to.

You bring your free hand up to hold his face, your finger traces his cheekbone and then you rest your palm on his face. “Good.” You smirk and his eyes flick down to your lips, and you take the hint, closing the gap between you two. He presses you against the desk and reciprocates the kiss, just as eager and desperate as you are. Each second that passes by feels like an eternity, and you hope it never ends. You've wrapped your arms around his neck and his free hand is resting on your hip. You're the one to pull away first with a quick gasp for air. Viktors face has a red flush to it and you swear you fell deeper in love right then and there.

“I've waited so long to do that, when you left for the top-side the only thing I regretted was not telling you how I felt.” He chuckles, stroking your hip, and you smile and lean in to kiss him again, this time it's him who closes the gap. His lips against yours feels right, you've kissed other people, men and women, but none have felt as right or as good as this. It's a bit messy, and rushed, but it feels right. You slide your hand back down to his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm is something that has you feeling giddy. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer to him. The moment, unfortunately, had to come to an end, the sound of the door opening, not only were you two caught but it reminded you that you two were inside a classroom, thankfully it wasn't a student who caught you, just an incredibly shocked Jayce. You look at Jayce and then back at Viktor, who looks just as shocked as Jayce, and you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles. “This is a place of learning, you two!” Jayce scoffs and throws his hands up, and Viktor groans, taking a few steps back.

“Good thing we're learning then, or we were learning.” Viktor teases, giving you a quick wink before going over to Jayce who looks even more shocked than before, he looks at you and then back at Viktor before groaning in defeat and chasing after Viktor. You're not sure what's going to happen between you and Viktor next, but you're sure that, whatever it is, it will be amazing.

[ahlore]

10 things i love about you.

ekko x piltover! fem!reader

↳ in which ekko lists ten things he loves exclusively about you.

He loved that you made it easy for him to be vulnerable. You showed him it was okay to feel weak and not be afraid to talk about his struggles. You welcomed him with open arms, ready to be there for him whenever he needed it. You’d wipe away his tears along with your own, so that one day, you both could find lasting peace together.

He loved that you knew a relationship needed both people to put in the same effort, but he felt there was more to it. It wasn’t healthy for you to do everything for him, but it’s not like he doesn’t do anything for you. He sees you as someone who works hard and always tries to be strong for everyone, including him and yourself.

He loved that you weren’t stuck-up or judgmental. You didn’t look down on people because of where they came from. Even though he was from Zaun, you treated him like an equal. You welcomed him completely, both as a friend and as something more.

He loved that you had a great sense of humor and always welcomed his semi-awkward jokes. He adored how you’d get flustered when he made flirty jokes that subtly hinted at his deeper feelings and desires. The way your nose would crinkle when you felt self-conscious, even though you were breathtaking in every way, was endearing to him. And he loved how only you could truly get him riled up, pushing his buttons in the most exciting way.

He loved how you listened to him. How you’d take the time to lend an ear, even for something as small as a fleeting thought he had. He appreciated how you’d hear out his worries about what people might think of you—a woman from Piltover and a [last name]—dating him, a Zaunite. He also appreciated how you listened when he talked about his sadness over his former friend, who had become Jinx. He missed her and hated how things had turned out for them, and your willingness to hear him out meant a lot to him. He was genuinely grateful to have you.

He loved how you faced adversity with confidence. No matter the criticism, you stayed strong and never hesitated to challenge anything if you believed it could lead to a better future.

He loved that you were open to meeting his family and friends from the Under city and welcomed them warmly. He was unsure of how you’d react to Vi or even meeting Scar, his right-hand man. And when he first brought you to the Firelight hideout and all the kids kept saying how pretty you were, he could feel his cheeks heating up. It made him feel like he didn’t deserve you at all.

He loved when you’d sneak him into your manor, also known as the [last name] estate. He was amazed by its grandeur. And when your parents caught you both, you didn’t hesitate to introduce him as your boyfriend, not caring whether they accepted him or not. To your relief, they did. It didn’t take long for you to introduce him as your boyfriend to your friends in Piltover. You introduced Ekko to Caitlyn Kiramman, your childhood friend who you absolutely adored, and then to Jayce Talis, another friend of yours. Jayce was a councilor and inventor like Ekko, so you thought they’d get along well. However, Ekko wasn’t too fond of Jayce (he was jealous of jayce, lol).

He loved when you’d ask to have a self-care night with him, where you’d both do self-care together and you’d pluck his usually untamed eyebrows. He loved how you’d hover over him while he lay in your bed, your body close to his as you worked on his eyebrows. The way you’d stick out your tongue in concentration was just adorable.

But he truly just loved you. You were a gifted painter, with a talent that brought beauty to everything you touched. Your words had a way of captivating and comforting, always knowing just what to say. You had a deep love for your home, Piltover, and a genuine desire to see it flourish. Yet, you were never blinded by the wrongs committed against Zaun; you strived to improve both worlds, aiming to unify Piltover and Zaun. Your compassion for those less fortunate was evident in how you consistently gave back to the community, always seeking to make a difference. Every facet of your character, from your creativity to your noble intentions, made him love you more deeply than he could ever express.

“Guide your hands here, my love,” Ekko whispers, gently directing your fingers to rest against his lips. His gaze locks with yours, intense and tender. “Just like that. I want to savor this moment.”

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You always know how to make everything feel special.” With a soft smile, he presses a gentle kiss to your fingertips, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls back, eyes still holding yours.

Let him cherish these moments with you. It’ll all be worth it in the end.

[avelera]

hi, I hope you don't mind me coming to kind of vent in your inbox (please toss this out if you do) but I was reading your post on the contrasting way Viktor and Jayce view their first meeting and it got me thinking about how some people just sorta brush aside Jayce's suicide attempt here as being somehow pathetic or an overreaction to what they consider a slap on the wrist and I kinda get really mad about that perspective because I don't think people really follow through on what the trial actually meant for Jayce and what the consequences reasonably could have been. people seem to think he was just embarrassed by the trial without understanding that that kind of reputational hit can be, and clearly was, ruinous.

setting aside entirely the emotional/psychological repercussions of having the thing he'd dedicated roughly 2/3's of his life to taken away, his very public trial ended with his own mother making an insanity plea on his behalf and his extremely wealthy and influential sponsor dropping him like he was radioactive and the actual ruling body of the city declaring him dangerously incompetent. do any of those people who deride him for the suicide attempt actually take the time to think about what that outcome means for him in a social and professional context? he jokes to Caitlyn about working in his family factory but honestly, it is entirely within the realm of possibility that the fallout of the trial has made him a social and professional pariah and his reputation is in such dire straits that he may be entirely unemployable within Piltover, perhaps even to the point of being toxic to his own family business if they take the reputation hit by association with him.

it's not actually hyperbole or an overreaction for him to stand in the wreckage of his life and think his life is over, to be at a complete loss as to how to move forward or come to the belief that moving forward is impossible and despair, especially if he doesn't have a support network which he pretty clearly doesn't. his only connections appear to be his mother and Caitlyn and, for obvious reasons, they're not viable at this time.

he was drowning and Viktor threw him a lifeline and he spends the literal rest of the story trying to return the favor.

Sorry for the delay in responding, there's a lot here I want to address.

First of all, I absolutely agree. I think people underestimate just how much that trial left his life in wreckage. That said, there's a few points I'd like to add some nuance to from my perspective, along the lines of YEAH THIS WAS REALLY BAD and people underestimate how much Viktor did for Jayce with his vote of confidence.

(This is gonna be a long post y'all but I have a LOT of thoughts and feelings about Jayce here so buckle up if you do proceed.)

1 ) The Kirammans dropping him as his patrons is absolutely devastating. It's actually the moment I think I hated Cassandra Kiramman for the most, which was turning Jayce away from her door at his lowest point, and cutting him off from Caitlyn, who seems to be his only friend before Viktor. I think it also demonstrates just how severe the crime was that she did so, by the way, I don't think she was just being cruel for the sake of it. But the fact that in 1.04 she's then showing off Jayce as an accomplishment of her house is particularly infuriating as a result. It's also no exaggeration to say that the Kiramman rejection was the final straw for him. After that, he decided to take his own life, so Cassandra would have been, in my opinion, directly responsible for his death (ironically saving her own life down the line, but then Arcane S1 is a series of hinging butterfly effect moments) if not for Viktor.

2 ) One layer of nuance I wanted to add to the Kiramman rejection in particular that you mentioned is the idea of him working at the Talis hammer factory because I think about this a LOT.

I do want to push back a little on the idea that he wouldn't be able to make a living for himself at the Talis hammer factory. To me (as someone whose family has a family business, though I don't work for it), it was never in doubt Jayce would have been able to work there the rest of his life. It might have been the only place he could get a job in Piltover, in fact, at least one with any sort of prestige or intellectual pursuit attached (basically, with anyone attached or graduated from the Academy).

However, I think Jayce would have had to work in a non-scientific part of the factory, either out on the floor or in the back office. And this is what I've been wanting to address in meta for a while now.

Caitlyn asks him what he's going to do next and Jayce says, "Work for the Talis hammer factory, I guess?" and she exclaims, "You can't do that!"

I think the nuance missing from your point that I'd like to add my view of that scene to is that Caitlyn is essentially saying, "That would kill you."

I get the very strong impression that Caitlyn and Jayce bonded over being members of their family who wanted bigger things than what their parents wanted for them. It's basically there on the page in this exchange.

We explore directly that Caitlyn wants to be a detective instead of working in politics like her mother, and pursues her dream despite adversity and her mother's disapproval.

But I think from this exchange and the one Jayce also has with his mother Ximena, we can glean that the Talis's also wanted Jayce to work for the factory, the family business, instead of going to the Academy to pursue his dream of magic.

(Also as a person whose family has a family business, that I don't work for, that has their own career and faced a lot of consternation from my family in my desire to be a writer, I feel this one very keenly.)

Jayce to me reads as someone who had to fight his family all his life to avoid going into the family business, in his pursuit of something greater.

With the Hextech dream taken away, all that's left to him is his family business, the thing I'd argue we have evidence that he's been fighting to avoid his whole life. It doesn't inspire him. It's not what he wants.

Joining the Talis factory would kill him. And that's what Caitlyn points out, and that's when he realizes she's right and goes to finish the job by his own hand instead. Further evidence I would say that working for his family business would represent a death of the soul to him, such that a physical death is preferable. But since his family built the business, and his mother clearly has reservations about his pursuit of magic, I think we can safely say he's been feeling similar pressures to Caitlyn to conform and join the business instead.

3 ) Now to go back to Viktor, I think this is another reason that Viktor literally and spiritually saved Jayce's life. Jayce outright says to his mother that if his own family won't believe in him, he'll find someone who will. Whether you read Viktor/Jayce as platonic or romantic (spouses are family, after all, which is how I read it), Viktor is Jayce's family from that point forward.

But Viktor doesn't bring Jayce back from the brink just by believing in him at his lowest moment (which is so powerful it can't be underestimated, btw) he also gives Jayce a bit of tough love too just when Jayce needs it.

Like many children of privilege (I'd firmly put Mel in this category, since she too is "trapped in the family business" I'd argue), Jayce saw himself at rock bottom after he lost his patron, the benefits of his House name, his family's support, his research, his equipment, access to his one friend, his access to the Academy, and his reputation.

Viktor points out that he never had any of those things growing up.

I think this is a welcome slap in the face for Jayce. Viktor rose to be the Dean's assistant on ability alone, without any of the scaffolding of privilege, and it humbles Jayce just when he needs it. Viktor is telling him that Jayce already has everything he needs to succeed and that others like Viktor have gotten further with less.

So not only does Viktor give his vote of confidence, he materially shows Jayce there is a way to achieving his dreams without all of the things he just lost.

Not only that, he's won the respect and assistance of someone who has done it before, someone who admires him for what he's done, someone who will help him make this dream a reality when no one else would.

Of course Jayce dedicated his life to Viktor after that. Of course he saw Hextech as their shared dream after that. I'd argue that of course he saw his life as belonging to Viktor after that point, because Viktor saved it.

[jaggedamethyst]

golden boy (part 3) | jayce talis x female reader

3.3k words

content: fawk it!! part three of jayce making reader a vibrator with hextech. everyone round of applause for golden boy!! (part one, part two)

notes/warnings: 18+ minors dni, angst, oral (female receiving), some sub!jayce, unprotected sex (dont be like them!), lmk if I missed anything as always

ps: while this is the end for now, I may consider adding some parts when inspiration strikes. its been fun writing for my best guy for a few weeks now...the arcane brain rot is real and I will never stop adding to the madness. thanks for reading in advance. - amethyst 💟

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

Being from the Undercity meant that from a young age you were particularly skilled at evasion. When Enforcers arrived, you were able to lie at the drop of a dime. At the mention of your now nonexistent family you could mask your emotions. Most importantly, you could get out of Piltover undetected. 

Slyly turning corners, you’d finally emerged on the outside. Regret filled you, then. 

You didn’t want to think of Jayce there—the fact that he would wake up alone. Truthfully you’d often reason that this was for the better, that you leaving would soften the blow of having to explain how fucked up you were. It was something you found yourself discussing often. 

“I have a particularly vested interest in this…seeing as though I also fell for a Piltie.” 

It was hard to be a Zaunite and not at least know of Vi. You’d actually met when you were younger. You swapped stories of lost families, hate for authority, and a penchant for being hardasses. 

“I didn’t fall for him, Vi. He was just there when I needed someone.” 

“Sure, but I was here, too. When that piece of shit lied to you…got married…I was here. You’re not all over me like you are with Jayce. So how do you explain that?” 

You knew it was more than just sex with him as much as you hated to admit it. But there’d been countless examples of the between-worlds love story simply not working. 

“Vi, you and the Kiramman girl didn’t even work. Again and again you two have tried and nothing…”

“Sometimes it’s just worth saying you tried. That despite everything, you opened up just that little bit.” 

You’d downed drink after drink that night—the sting barely masking the nagging at your mind to just go see him. But the sadness you’d feel was always overrun with hate. He proved you right. The cycle continued. A month had passed and he hadn’t even looked for you.

You and Vi proved similar, again. When she suggested you take up fighting to release your tension, you hadn’t even thought twice. It was yet another way to remind yourself that you deserved to feel this. Every stupid decision you’d made up until this point warranted the physical pain. 

It quickly got out of hand. 

Before Jayce became a member of the council, he didn’t make a habit of leaving Piltover. Now that he was in a position of power, he found himself in Zaun often. It was important to him that he didn’t see you, though. The twinge in the pit of his stomach had only subsided moderately at the thought of you. Until the embers in his body had completely burned out—he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of giving in. Of being good. 

The opportunity to walk the Undercity afforded him time to observe things he’d later note in his proposition for a large-scale integration. He figured this was bigger than you somehow. If you ever did will yourself to feel even a modicum of what he felt for you, it’d be worth it to have made it safer for you. Regardless, he was still taken aback by how gritty Zaun was every time. He thought of his partner living here—hardly able to walk. 

You saw him, then. He was passing a corner, clearly in thought. Something that crossed his mind had upset him. You wondered if it was about you. What you would give to be able to smooth the creases in his face, to tell him that whatever it was would be okay, to make certain it was. 

But it wasn’t. You’d left. Again.

He should’ve expected to run into you. He’d never seen you look so disheveled; there was always an air of composure about you. But looking at you now, you’d been neglecting to take care of yourself. 

It happened so fast. As if you felt the magnetic pull of his eyes on you. In the second that you’d turned to examine him, a crack hit the side of your face. You wanted to swing back, finish the fight you started, but you figured you deserved this. You’d let the rage take over. So when the punches came down and you started to black out, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. 

_________

You jolted awake later, observing a man hobbling across the room. 

“Viktor?” 

He turned to you, “You know who I am?” 

You sat up a bit, “Of course. It’s a pleasure to meet you, although I wish it was under better circumstances.” 

“You must be the Zaunite girl.” 

You interrupted, offended by the remark. “Excuse me-“

Viktor held up a hand to stop your incoming rant, he knew the feeling too well. 

“My partner…is nothing if not consistent.” He sat down next to you, “Taking two helpless Undercity residents beneath his wing seems quite…fitting for Jayce.” 

“You’re…from Zaun?”

He nodded. “I’m sure you understand the feeling of being around someone like Jayce.” 

You nodded in response. The feeling of unease not needing further explanation. 

“Jayce mentioned to me this plan he has. To consolidate Piltover and Zaun into one entity. Again, my partner fails to recognize the intricacies of having such an ambitious plan.”

“I…didn’t know about that. Makes sense that he would be so set on creating a utopia.” 

You both laughed at that, knowing the man all too well. 

You continued, “With Jayce, I feel like I’m always seeking something out. Like I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?” You shifted in your seat, trying to explain. “If I get ahead of the bad I know is coming, I can avoid getting hurt. But that feels so…pessimistic?” 

After a while, Viktor stood again. “I would be remiss to call a person such as yourself a pessimist.” 

He slowly made his way over to a cabinet, pulling out an umbrella. 

“Despite my life's work here, I truly have nothing else to offer you except this…and time.” He pushed the umbrella into your hands, “It should rain soon. If you want to get away before he comes back, you should go now.”

You slid off of the bench that you were seated on. “But why?” 

He motioned toward the door, following behind you. “Jayce Talis is the most brilliant man I have ever known, and yet he fails to see the world with the nuance it demands.” 

There was an understanding between you again. That reconciliation was a lot to face. That although there was an inexplicable care for the man, it was hard for him to understand you both sometimes.

“Thank you.” 

——————

The umbrella did little for protecting your body as you ran through the storm, yet you’d left a mental note to thank Viktor at some point. 

Fury had bubbled in you in a split second, “Shit!” You kicked one of your chairs in frustration. The thought of Jayce going out of his way to make sure you were safe and arriving to you gone again was painful. You wanted to feel numb. The desire for nothing about Jayce Talis to ever harm you again was debilitating. 

A banging on the door made you freeze. It couldn’t…

A knock again, and the voice you longed to hear from. 

“It’s me.” 

Jayce called your name, his voice breaking with every repetition. 

You swung the door open. He looked so defeated—out of breath and covered in water. He’d clearly not thought to grab anything to shield him from the rain. 

With your usual feigned annoyance you broke the silence. “I told you to never come here.” 

There was an agreement made between you two, that you would always come to him. You weren’t embarrassed of your home, far from it. But you did hate the feeling of relinquishing control. When with Jayce, you always reserved that right to leave at your own discretion—with him here you instantly felt the restraints. 

He huffed at that, his usual apprehension replaced with exasperation. 

“Shut up.” 

He pulled you in by your neck, kissing you as if to punctuate the command. He moved you back into your house, closing the door behind you both. Every fear had evaporated from your mind. It was always so good with him. You knew he would take care of you in every way. 

Everything between you remained unspoken for now, your rain-soaked clothes finding their way to your floor. 

Jayce’s physique is one that you loved, but became rather daunting the more he’d taken control. 

He pushed you again, this time leaving you on display for him on your bed. He looked you up and down slowly. It made you nervous—the lack of readable expression on his face. When you’d finally made eye contact, he broke it quickly, reaching toward his clothes on the floor. He returned to you quickly, his body fully enveloping yours. 

He kissed your neck sweetly, a way only he could. He made note to suck down on your telltale spots—where you’d been the most sensitive. Making his way to your chest, he looked up at you with a mix of desire and hurt in his eyes. In his left hand he’d massaged your nipple between his fingers, his mouth finding the other. Your chest heaved. Your eyes fluttered shut. You were distracted. He knew the trick very well, seeing as you’d fooled him more than he could count. 

A sudden pulse and sucking sensation jolted you to attention. Jayce had a coy look on his face—and his free hand was on what you had to assume was a new prototype. 

You instinctively circled your hips toward him, craving more. He pressed you down, stopping your movement. The way he continued rubbing on your clit made you fight the urge to writhe against him. 

Your face was suddenly met with his and a peck was left on your lips. When he broke contact, he simultaneously turned the vibration up to the max. You were completely inconsolable. He watched your coherence leave your mind with a menacing smile—still refusing to utter a word. 

You wanted to say something, anything. You fought to question what this sudden change was about, why he was so adamant about tearing you apart right now. But part of you could tell that this was his way of keeping you silent. A sensation this good always left you speechless—your jaw slack and eyebrows pinched together. 

The max setting was a continued pulse and grip on your clit that you couldn’t even process. You weren’t sure where the pain and pleasure met but it was too damn good to stop. 

He kept looking at you. He knew you’d be done soon. All of the signs were there. It was sort of torturous for you to try and form words in your mind and have nothing come to fruition. 

Having him stare at you with a look of disdain in his eyes was even worse. The once yellow color that would wrap you up like the warmth of the Sun now pierced into you. 

He still coaxed you along, needing to prove a point—for you to finish. Within a few more seconds you jolted and froze against him, your legs tightening around his waist. 

He quickly brushed off your grip on his torso, moving to stand. He turned his back to you, discarding his prototype, and steadying himself with his hands on his hips. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He didn’t look at you. He didn’t have to; he knew you were confused by this entire thing. “Is this all you ever need from me? To show up, make you feel better for a while, and then watch you leave?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“What do you know? Because at this point I can’t tell.”

“Me either.”

Jayce finally turned to you, observing your head in your hands. “W-we can’t keep doing this. It’s not healthy.” 

“I know.” 

He moved a bit closer to you, surely angry now. 

“Are you going to say more than a few words to me or will this be the same as always?”

You spoke under your breath, barely audible over the sound of the rain. “What else do you want me to say, Jayce?” 

Words threatened to spill from you. The force with which you’d pushed them down had left you. A figurative steam had started to escape you, a bubbling on the verge of spilling over. Looking at Jayce was often the only catalyst you’d needed, that remained a constant today, it seemed. 

You peered over at him now, “What do you want me to say, hm? That I feel fucking stupid because I let myself feel something I swore I would never? That you’re the only person to make me feel something other than fear?” You dropped down from the bed, looking up at him. Tears that you’d held in finally met the brim of your eyes. “That,” you paused, “I care about you so much that the thought of it being more makes me want to die. That because I felt that before…with someone else…and was ruined entirely because of it that I can’t let myself be happy. Is that what you want?” You wiped your face swiftly, looking away, “Is it?” 

He surprised you when he carefully brought you into a hug. The grip of one hand on the back of your head, the other on your back was cathartic. You recounted every instance for which you’d felt safe with Jayce, there were too many to count. 

He inhaled slowly and let out an even deeper exhale. “What I want is for you to meet me where you can.” 

He pulled back a bit, his arms trailing your arms as he grasped both of your hands. He slowly sank to kneel in front of you, both knees planted to the carpet. Despite you both being completely bare, his grip around your body was far from sexual. He laid his head on you, his forehead relaxing into your lower abdomen. 

“For every night that you’re willing to stay, I promise to be with you the next day.” 

You stared ahead, the man’s head in your lower peripheral. The sheer magnitude of that kind of commitment already weighed on you. But you figured, who better to carry the load with than Jayce? You didn’t need to be strong enough to bear it alone; you knew the golden boy had enough fortitude to make the heaviest of burdens feel light. 

“Say something…please.”

You blinked, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” He leaned back, looking at your face. 

You nodded. 

The tough exterior the man had worn soon dissipated. A veil so uncomfortable for him that he didn’t recognize himself in the last few minutes. He nuzzled into you, grasping at your skin like you would disappear into thin air.

The whole ordeal had happened so quickly, you didn’t even get to comment on the way his appearance had changed. 

“I like the new hair. It really says tortured scientist to me.” 

He hadn’t actually noticed his lack of upkeep these last few weeks. He chuckled, knowing he’d pinpointed how you didn’t take care of yourself—and yet here he was. 

“Do you see what you’ve done to me? I didn’t even shave my face.” 

You brushed a piece of hair behind his ear. “I actually think the rough look is pretty sexy. Maybe we should stop talking for another month.” 

“Too soon.” 

“Is it?” You lifted a leg over his shoulder, “We shouldn’t talk about it then, right?”

He tilted his face, rubbing into the inner skin on your thigh. He nodded, but got distracted by the sight in front of him. You were already dripping, a mix of arousal from before and now. He looked up through his lashes, asking for your approval. 

“Go ahead.” 

You would think that Jayce was starving the way he started to devour you. His head between your thighs, his tongue pushing into you, and his hands kneading at your legs was a combination that always had you weak in front of him. If you somehow could stay this way forever, spread thin, you would. The added friction of the stubble on his face hurt so good. You were sure there’d be a burn on you later—but you would wear it with honor. 

In the way you admired his fingers you would give the utmost praise to Jayce’s mouth. You shivered, his tongue flattening over you, a long and final swipe collecting every drop of you. He tapped your leg on his shoulder twice before lowering it. He made a show of licking his lips while he laid back on the bed. 

“Come take what you need.” 

You’d been in this position before—the man beneath you dripping in precum. You straddled him, the muscle memory kicking in. You let your lips trail across his collarbone. You’d yet to let him in you, rubbing your wetness up and down him. You made certain he was rock hard as you slowly connected his shoulder blades in an assortment of bruises. Eventually you gripped him, circling your hole with the head of his dick. 

He rested his hands on your hips, pressing down a bit. “Please-“ 

You slowly sank onto him, letting out a puff of air at the stretch. 

Leaning toward his ear, you spoke again. “I think you’ve waited long enough.” 

Without missing a beat, you pushed up and down on him. He instinctively met you, slapping into you at a slow rhythm he knew you’d loved. You rolled your neck, the piercing in your stomach was worth the time apart. You’d wait for him, you thought. It was the least you could do after he’d been so understanding with you. A month…a year…any amount of time was worth seeing him splayed so pretty beneath you. 

The wet sounds of you two slowly working each other could have been considered lewd had it not been for Jayce’s whimpers. Suddenly, the sounds bouncing off your walls seemed rather sweet. 

“Mmm, f-fuck,” and he continued like that for a while. Resounding sounds of pleasure and pain vibrated in your ears—urging you to speed up. 

Your deliberate circlings into him had become less controlled bounces. You were close. It didn’t matter how much longer, Jayce always found a way to finish with you. 

“C-can I?” He looked between you, the way you molded together so well. He always asked before he came in you. You definitely should’ve cared more about the implications, but your fervent nods made him snap up into you even harder. 

He noticed your irregular movement, flipping you two over. He was above you now—a sight you were getting more familiar with these days. An inadvertent smile found your lips, then, as he scrambled beside you. He immediately started the vibration on your clit, pumping into you at the same time. You clawed at his back, your walls squeezing into him, coaxing the release out of him. 

“Need you to cum, baby. Let me feel you,” he uttered between moans. 

“Jayce, I-“ 

“Its okay…its all okay.” 

He always had a way with words. Even when the situation found you both entangled with one another—he found a way to reassure you that you were safe. The thought alone had your legs wrapped around his back, finally finishing with him. Your entire body pulsed as he worked you thoroughly. He slipped away from you with a groan, his hand swiping at you. Before you could protest, he sucked on a drenched finger, cleaning it completely. 

“Sweeter than I remember.” 

You both laid there, heaving for breath but not a word exchanged. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jayce fighting sleep. Without thinking, you reached to turn off the lights, draping yourself over his chest. He sighed and kissed your forehead—finally allowing himself rest. 

——————

Jayce woke in the morning, the Sun’s rays meeting his eyelids with a heat that forced him to relinquish sleep. He felt around for you but as he’d suspected…nothing. He craned his head to the side, eyebrows raising a bit. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” 

You were there. 

You scrambled a bit, “I’m sorry, I stepped out and went to the Lanes really quick. Vander’s not the best cook but I figured you might be hungry…I’m starving-“

He let out a breath he’d been holding, “It’s good to see you.” 

You smiled, “You too.” 

[violue]

A bunch of stray, slightly connected thoughts about Viktor the Mage.

We don't know much about him, really. About how different his world was to the one he was able to save.

I assumed initially that this was his original timeline. But it doesn't necessarily have to be. Maybe it was the timeline that caused him the most agony. Maybe it was the timeline where he got the closest to making things right. Maybe it was the timeline he knew would convince Jayce. Maybe it was all of those.

Now, it stands to reason that he always met Jayce even in his original timeline, otherwise he probably wouldn't even know about Jayce or his potential to aid Viktor in his Hextech Journey™. Unless bro burned through so many timelines that he started just trying random "what if THIS person never died" scenarios for random Piltover residents stretching back years… which, maybe. But for now I'll stick with "Viktor knew Jayce Talis in his original timeline".

I think in the original timeline, Jayce's mom died but he survived, made it home (the family is from Piltover) in whatever condition, and he never became a brilliant inventing Man of Progress.

Which could mean Viktor would have originally come to hextech on his own, another way. I wonder what that was like?

He tells Jayce "only you can show me this".

How many other people did he nudge towards hextech and magic before he realized it was Jayce that he needed? Maybe Viktor saw the promise of him even in that first timeline, but too much had gone wrong for Jayce and his intelligence/creativity/bravery/etc was never nurtured to where it should be. But eventually he went back and saved Jayce's mom (and temporarily stopped trimming his fucking fingernails), but things still just didn't go in the right direction.

He starts trying the different runes, exploring these possibilities. He saw Jayce and his entire WORLD die over and over.

(also, if in any of those timelines he worked with Jinx, I bet everything went to hell in a SPECTACULAR fashion)

Where does Viktor the Mage go when his work is finally done? Has he lived a normal lifespan and he jumps back in time and then back to (his empty, lonely) present? Or does he live out each timeline in its entirety, making him hundreds or even thousands of years old?

Viktor The Mage seems to exist uniquely outside of time, and since the world is not overrun with other Viktors trying to correct past mistakes, it feels fair to assume he's the only one.

I wonder if Viktor's illness is there in every timeline. One would think some of his attempts would base around "if I never become ill, I will never take such risks with hextech".

What then was his motivation in those timelines? Did he ever go back and make it so he was never born? If so, who brought the end of the world in those timelines? Was it even WORSE, somehow? Or maybe he couldn't go back and stop himself from being born, because (handwave, gibberish) paradox. Or maybe he didn't think of that. If he had, he'd probably have considered going back and stopping this from happening.

I imagine Viktor trying over and over and over again and having everything still go wrong every time, I imagine there were times that he started to think it was simply his destiny to end the world, always.

There's just a lot of backstory that could exist for this version of Viktor, and I hate that I know NONE OF IT, but it is of course entertaining to wildly speculate.

[maxdibert]

Honestly, I’m not as angry with Jayce for taking his post-breakup depression in the most toxic way possible, realizing his ex had ascended to messiah nirvana, as I am for destroying Vi and Jinx's happiness again. They were finally becoming a family with their redeemed Frankenstein father and their new adopted daughter/niece i mean even even Caitlyn was in "I’m done being a puppet of the system" mode, like, I’m going to help my ex-girlfriend/situationship and her psychopath sister that I hate, even though it repulses me and I detest her, and I’m going to throw all this gaslighting they’ve been doing to me for half the season out the window. I'm masking this with sarcastic humor, but really, I’ve been crying for half an hour, just wanting someone to punch that man in the face because THEY WERE FINALLY HAPPY AND A FAMILY, AND I HOPE YOU SINK, JAYCE TALIS, AND SUFFER TERRIBLY, AND MEL LEAVES YOU TOO. I HATE YOU.

[jayviknation]

I have one person in my life to be feral about arcane with so I’ve decided to take up writing here again! Any comments or tips welcome 🥹

✨ Jayce Talis Headcannon’s✨

- [ ] Favorite Color-

Brown! Not just any brown; a deep sultry chocolate brown with a smooth wooden undertone (if you ask him he’ll say red because he doesn’t wanna defend himself for having the “worst” favorite color)

- [ ] Loner kid -

you cannot convince me this man wasn’t the kid that would let his friends pick on him just so he would have a friend group. (Think Thompson from Gravity Falls) He has forever wanted someone to connect to and cherishes Viktor even more for that reason

- [ ] Mommy’s boy -

This one is more self explanatory - he was just absoltuely running to his mom anytime anything happened to him as a kid

- [ ] Following with the family theme eldest sibling energy -

I couldn’t find anything that pointed to Jayce having siblings or being an only child but he just radiates older brother energy with everything in him (love his and cait’s sibling relationship 🙏🏻)

- [ ] Has a sweet tooth

I love to picture this man at 3 AM deep in equations with Viktor breaking the dead silence and concentration with the crisp snap of a Kit Kat as loud as possible (Viktor acts like he hates this but constantly buys him more)

- [ ] Love type - PHYSICAL AFFECTION

Another self explanatory but with romantic partners or friendships this man is a LOVER. Hugs, hand holds, shoulder taps, waist holds, this man needs his hands anywhere but his own body

- [ ] Loves Spiders - Scared of Bugs

I like to think that Jayce as a kid was terrified of spiders but was teased a lot about it so he started keeping spiders as a kid and helped developed a fascination and appreciation for them, bugs on the other hand? He doesn’t want anything crawling on him with that many legs ever (all his clothing is tight fitting so if something is under his clothes it’s about to be a battle)

- [ ] Diva about fashion

He absolutely dresses himself and Viktor but also owns many magazine catalogs about what’s currently in style for leisure reading (possible catalog names - Piltovers Fresh, Councilor Fancy, and my personal favorite Shimmering Hammer)

- [ ] HAIR

While we’re talking about how Jayce looks I just know this man has a detailed multi product process for his hair, no one’s hair is that shiny and sits that perfect without trying

- [ ] Little spoon

I don’t feel the need to elaborate here, this man is the little spoon - Man or Female

- [ ] Firm Sleep Schedule

Was educated very early on of the importance of sleeping for full brain function and gets at least 7 hours every single night without fail. Constantly lecturing Vik on his lack of a sleeping schedule

- [ ] Divorced Dad Rock

Has a guilty pleasure for divorced dad rock (nickelback, daughtry, buck cherry, creed) but will never admit it, catch him at the lab early in the morning (before 7 AM) and you can catch him in full breakdown mode over Linkin Park

- [ ] Can’t cook BUT can bake

Will burn any type of meat, potato, or veggie you put in front of him but will make you a Flan without a single dent without thinking twice about it

- [ ] Sleeps with stuffed HexTech Plush

Cait or Mel got him this as a joke but he unironically lays on it to relax and then will fall asleep with it in his arms pretty consistently

- [ ] Board Game Nights

Him and Cait have a weekly game night where Caitlyn just destroys him every single time (this makes Jayce very distraught because his parents let him win every time as a kid)

- [ ] Coffee

Has a very detailed intricate coffee order that makes any barista immediately want to quit and gets the same coffee everyday at 7 AM like clockwork. Will also get Viktor his coffee which is just a straight cup of black every morning but not without making a grossed out face every time he hands it to him 🤢

- [ ] Allergies

Has a slight allergy to random stuff like tomatoes or wine but is too nice to decline so he’ll just suffer in silence (the allergy just makes his throat numb)

- [ ] Gets Zoomies

Coming from a background with so much manual labor sitting around all day messing with equations and hex tech absolutely takes a toll on him. He’s constantly pacing, jumping around, or doing some type of parkour off of the furniture in their lab

- [ ] Hates Movies but LOVES documentaries

This man cannot stand long form content that doesn’t have new information he could learn but loves to watch the discovery channel put on a 5 hour documentary about bananas and how they’re going extinct for the second time

- [ ] Bad Driver

I don’t remember a single car in Arcane BUT if Jayce had a car he would absolutely be a shit driver. Curbs? Those shouldn’t be in his way where he can’t see them.

- [ ] Social Meetings

This man loves to act extroverted but is incredibly shy and nervous about every conversation and absolutely goes over every possible topic that could arise in the shower that morning before going out (bonus: he fully acts out scenes of imaginary potential stressful situations in the mirror to always have a good comeback in the moment)

Working on a Pt 2 because I could talk about this man for YEARS but lemme know any other characters you wanna see headcannons for!

[thefloatingstone]

How would you compare Presley's racism vs Ashley's racism. Although now that I type this at least Presley never compared them animals. Hmmm...

Honestly it's all down to "root cause" and "how they express it".

Pressly is a veteran of the first contact war who was shooting at these people less than 30 years ago. His racism has its roots in a perspective forged during wartime and all the baggage THAT drags up. But we get clear and straightforward addressing of Pressly growing out of his racism by his own words, remarking in his log "Reading back on my older entries, what a damn fool I've been."

Ashley on the other hand may have similar baggage, as her grandfather is a disgraced military man and caused her entire family to be blacklisted because of the First Contact War with the aliens, and that would be a similar place to draw her prejudice from and help her grow out of by realising her true feelings of anger and resentment are misplaced. But the way she voices her racism is full of venom and true, deep seeded contempt and hatred. Comparing them to animals is the big one, and ME2 itself mocks her for this comment if she died on Virmire. But it's more than that. Ashley's entire personality is that of "High School Mean Girl". The second Liara steps on board of the Normandy Ashley is GUNNING to bully her. Not just because she's an alien but ALSO for being "one of those lesbian sluts". (reminder, in ME1 Liara is an extremely shy and awkward historian and archaeologist)

When Shepard tells Ashley to NOT bully Liara for being an Asari, Ashley straight up says "No fun, Commander >:("

Also there's this line which some people miss because it requires you to have the discussion with Liara about the Prejudice and racism Asari face galaxy wide and then going directly to Ashley and speaking to her)

(the clip starts at 2:44)

idk if I said it here or if I said so in discord to a friend, but I see kaidan and Ashley as being written as the answers to Bioware's handling of Renegade and Paragon options. Kaidan is more geared to reflect a Paragon playthrough and Ashley is more geared to fit a renegade playthrough. Possibly the thinking was whichever way the person is playing, it would affect who they decide to spare on Virmire.

(also I have a good relationship with my family but Ashley going "WHAT DOES SHE MEAN SHE DOESN'T LIKE HER MOM???? THAT'S STUPID." comment also makes me really fucking angry considering how many irl friends I have who have moms who suck ass)

Pressly's racism is problematic (same as Garrus' racism in the first game) but he outgrows it and openly says "I was wrong."

Garrus has a full on conversation with Tali in ME3 and directly says to her "I'm sorry and I was wrong."

Ashley never apologises or excuses her early comments and behaviour. She just at some point stops doing it so overtly and comments how "no I like Tali a lot" (Everybody likes Tali) as if this somehow undoes everything she said. More than anything, she tries to justify and excuse her past comments and opinions while also saying the most hateful things about the crew.

She's a racist bully from a heavily religious traditional military family who makes no effort to understand people from family structures or upbringing she doesn't understand, alien or otherwise, who immediately started picking on the shy nerd the SECOND she stepped foot on the ship and never apologises for any of her actions, racist or otherwise.

The racism is a symptom of a much nastier whole.

She's a VERY well written character. I just heavily dislike her.

[talysalankil]

earlier today my mom sat with me to look at stuff for my new apartment, except the jeremy strip challenge was still open (thankfully in small size) and my mom went "what are those pictures of MEN" djfklsdjflksdj

[whatwedointhecraft]

Fuck it.

Gonna write a fanfic where my oc Athena Shepard has a twin brother Lou Shepard who is a merc and various members of Commander Shep ( Athena's crew) have met both Sheps but never tell anyone to keep up the stories that Commander Shep is an only child.

And then it gets to Mass Effect 2's opening and all shit breaks loose because people are confused because Commander Shep is working for Cerberus, whilst Lou has been causing chaos in the family name as a merc.

Then it gets to the end of Mass Effect 3 and Lou turns up to his sister's wedding, Tali in arm and Garrus is just like "What the fuck is going on?"

And it all ends with Hannah Shepard being like "Garrus, did you not meet them both on Omega?" And Garrus is like "I hate you all."

We could call it "The Merc Mindfuck" or "How To Solve A Problem Like Shepard"

[bullet-prooflove]

Downtime: Clinton Skye x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @crazybeautiful1987 @caffeinatedwoman @soultrysworld

Noone knows about the cases Clinton works in his downtime.

The ones he keeps locked in the top drawer of his desk in the mobile command centre.

They’re the ones that nobody else wants, the ones that local authorities won’t dedicate the resources to.

It’s heartbreaking, the amount of crimes against indigenous people that go unsolved. It’s the reason that he joined the FBI, he wanted to change the system, be the solution to the problem. Only the stack gets bigger and the resources scarcer.

He makes his usual round of calls while the others are asleep, hitting up the detectives, talking through their leads, making notes. The truth is the ones that do care are inundated, they try their best but it’s a deluge of violence, one that even the most diligent officer can’t hope to keep up with.

He leaves you until last, his pen tapping on the surface of the manilla file in front of him as his gaze flickers up towards the clock. Despite the late hour he knows you’ll be at your desk, you’re as bad as he is these days. When you see an issue you try to rectify it and working in Hate Crimes, you come across a lot of issues. You’re always out in the community, making connections, helping rebuild. It’s how the two of you met.

“Sienna.” He says fondly when you pick up the phone.

“Clint.”

He can hear the smile in your voice and he imagines you leaning back in your chair, the phone cradled underneath your chin. He’s only been away a few days but he misses you with a ferocity he can’t vocalise. The way he feels for you, it burns like a fire in his chest. With everyone else, he’s calm, reserved but with you he’s passionate, wild.

You’re a spirited woman, fierce, head strong. You’d brought colour into his world after the death of his sister. He hadn’t been living back then, he’d been holding everything together for Jesse, for Tali, his parents. It had become his pattern, numbing him to everything else outside of the grief they  suffered. His days blurred, his existence monotonous and then you had stepped into his life, a whirlwind of texture and vibrance. Your warmth had flowed over his battered psyche like the water from a stream, soothing, restorative.

You’d spent days working together, repairing the shopfront of a tribal member whose business had been firebombed before Clinton realises he’s starting to feel something again. It comes back slowly after that, the essence of his soul feeding back into his body.

“I just needed to hear your voice.” He finds himself saying as he closes the folder in front of him. “This case, the one I’m working, it hits a little too close to home.”

“Tell me about it.” You say so he does.

You already have an awareness about the residential schools. There had been an article last year when the Pope visited Canada to apologise to the Indigenous community for the abuse their children had suffered at the hands of the missionaries who ran those places, you had asked it about him about it back then.

“Your parents?” You had queried after you’d shown him the article on your tablet one evening.

“No,” He had said, shaking his head. “They were fortunate. They were hidden away when the authorities came to take them. They managed to avoid the ‘Kill the Indian and Save the Man’ rhetoric.”

Clinton knows hundreds that didn’t. There are still people in his tribe who to this day don’t know what happened to their children, they were simply taken away, never to be returned. The Bureau of Indian Affairs are still uncovering unmarked graves connected to these schools, thousands of dollars are being spent running DNA in attempt to reunite these children with their parents and debatably those are the lucky ones. For the survivors their stories play out over generations, the effects of their abuse like a stone being thrown into a lake, rippling throughout the branches of their entire family tree.

The case he’d worked today was a symptom of cultural genocide. The entire family were so broken by it and the continued systemic disinterest in indigenous cases that one of them had decided to do something about it.

“I was in one of those schools today.” He says quietly as he recalls the dilapidated building, the soulless of each and every single one of those rooms. “There were numbers on the walls, that’s how they referred to the kids, not by their names but by numbers. It was a way of breaking them down, eradicating their identity, their culture…”

He trails off because it’s the cruelty of it all that gets to him. Children younger than his niece Tali being beaten, abused, starved and all of it sanctioned by the state. He knows he doesn’t have to explain hate to you, you see it on a daily basis, experience it the same way he does.

“I don’t know what to say.” You tell him. “Those places, what happened… it’s deplorable.”

“I just need to hear something good.” He whispers down the line, his voice breaking as he speaks. “I just needed to hear your voice, to remind me there’s something in this world that hasn’t been tainted by all the darkness out there, that there’s still someone fighting.”

“You’re still fighting.” You remind him, referring to his case files. “You’re still seeking justice for those people, even when no one else is, you’re still telling their stories.”

“I don’t know if it’s enough.” He says you sadly, his gaze straying to the growing pile of manilla files neatly stacked on the corner of his desk.

“It is for their families.” You tell him. “For the father who lost a daughter to trafficking, for the mother whose son was beaten to death because of his culture, it’s enough for them knowing that that animal is behind bars, that he can’t hurt anyone else. That’s what you’re fighting for Clinton, to give those people a peace of mind, to stop it from happening again.”

“You’re right.” He says with a sigh, his fingertips massaging the sore spot right between his eyes. “I know you’re right. It just gets a little much sometimes.”

“I know.” You say quietly and you do.

This isn’t the first pep talk you’ve given him. He’s done the same for you. The weight of these cases, the importance of them, they’d crush you if you let them. He has a duty to these people and he won’t be the one to let them down, not when everybody else has.

“Thank you.” He says softly. “For picking up the phone, for always knowing what I need…”

“I’m your wife Clinton.” You remind him and he can hear the smile in your voice, despite the distance that stretches between you. “I’m always here for you.”

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[snowfolly]

A Simple Life

Astarion x original f!Tav | one shot, 2,931 words

Astarion and Tali are taking a break from the road to stargaze for a moment. He reflects on what was and what could have been with his little gray songbird at his side.

Cw: references to Astarion’s past abuse, some cursing

Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort, soft Astarion, post-game, headcanons, self-indulgent af, Astarion’s Pov

Notes: Headcanons galore about noble elves in Evereska and Astarion’s past- if that’s not your thing then this may not be the story for you friend! • No beta on this one-shot & I am certainly not a professional writer • Also just as a little side note- My Tav, Taliesin, is genderfluid and uses any pronouns. They have used a ring of opposite gender for around 60 years (which they use about half the time), so I write/draw them as either gender :>

Read on ao3

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“Imagine though, if we had stayed back in Evereska we could have had a simple life, well, at least compared to the ones we’ve lived. Perhaps my bitch of a mother would have sold me off to your family to wed you — for a handsome dowry of course,” Tali mused, staring up at the night sky and the thumbnail of a moon that bled the faintest silver light upon the land, “can you even imagine? We would have been absolutely miserable.”

Astarion laughed, his arms behind his head as he laid upon the long autumn grass, the scent of comforting vetiver and leaf rot was strong but not unpleasant so close to the earth. He stared at the constellation Correlian just over the horizon, thirteen bright stars standing out amongst a million others, giving him some kind of vague nostalgia, although he couldn’t pinpoint why exactly. Likely something left over from his past, from the time before; broken memories that would sometimes seep through in the form of indefinite feelings.

“Oh certainly, we would have hated each other. I would have resented you, you’d have resented me, we’d keep to different rooms on opposite sides of our sprawling mansion. We’d drink too much, despise our jobs in the family business, take other lovers and hate each other for that as well. It simply would have been a grand old time!” he jested sarcastically, one hand on his chest and the other waving about for humorous emphasis before glancing over at Taliesin.

Tali was such a slight creature, dressed in an oversized ruby hued poet shirt and high black breeches, her long, cool gray hair was back in her typical loose braids, balled up unceremoniously at the nape of her neck and held in place with a red silk tie. She sat cross legged and leaning up against the trunk of a tree nearly barren of leaves, her violin propped up beside her.

“We would have bickered nonstop, both of us bored to death as we played our roles,” Tali made a dramatic gagging sound and sat forward, hugging her knees and resting her head on them as she glanced down at Astarion with an impish grin, “but here we are.”

“Indeed, here we are, love,” Astarion replied quietly, turning to lay on his side, better facing his partner.

“Just two elves that have been really shitty at being elves,” Tali conceded with a smile, and Astarion nodded with a slight eye roll. She certainly wasn’t wrong about that. Neither of them worshipped the Seldarine. Tali was as decadent as he, self absorbed and mean spirited at times as well.

They were both city dwellers and cared not for the woods, but while she had played her music in taverns and inns for over a century in Baldur’s Gate he had been prowling them as a vampire spawn for much longer. The only time they had frolicked in forests was out of necessity, to get from point a to point b.

Lying on the grass with her and staring up at the heavens, contemplating the vastness and meaning of it all was as elfy as either of them got, he supposed.

“So…what exactly would have been your fate if you had stayed home? Seeing as to how I wasn’t there to come sweep you off your stamping mad little feet?” Astarion asked, nodding his head rhythmically with each of the last four words out of his mouth and Tali shrugged, her face not showing a hint of perturbance, which was good. Her past, much like his own, could be a point of contention.

“I was arranged to wed a noble merchant’s son when we both came of age, poor boy was sweet as mead but dense as cow dung. You might have known him, he was a bit older than me and a smidge younger than you. Not a brain in his head. Spent all day elfing-about in the woods, absolutely loved all that shit. Thank the gods I had the wherewithal to run away.”

“A dire fate that would have been,” Astarion said with a half smile, his gaze distant, deep in thought.

Evereska was such an obscure, foggy memory for him. He had very little recollection of it but he could vaguely remember the sprawling estates in the upscale part of the city, and one of them, not so far from his own family home was Tali’s — a house of noble merchants.

“Do you remember what would have become of you if you had stayed in Evereska?” Tali asked him with a hint of hesitation, but it was a question he had anticipated after he had asked her the same so frankly.

Astarion stared off into the field, garnet eyes faraway, his head propped up on his hand as the gears in his mind turned, but they weren’t turning nearly as efficiently as he would have liked. They never did when it came to the past, to the time before.

“Well, I’m not sure what my parents had planned for me, if anything. I… I really just don’t remember. I know that I left when I was very young, and I don’t know if I left on my own accord or if I was sent off. I just recall that it wasn’t a positive farewell,” he said solemnly, glancing back at Tali who was absentmindedly playing with the grass under her right hand.

“Do you… ever plan to go back to see them? Your family?” Tali asked without looking toward Astarion, and he was glad for it. His face fell and his heart sank at her words. His family.

A few stray crickets brave enough to bear the autumn chill were the only sound heard between the two as Astarion stayed silent for some time while he processed Tali’s question. He knew that she was curious about his past, but she never pried or prodded and it was only fair to answer her truly now.

“I have thought about it, of course I have,” he swallowed, looking up at her with round, pleading eyes and then back up to the sliver of moon hanging above, “I don’t think I could face them. I don’t know that I could…”

Astarion stalled a moment, irritated at his hitching voice before taking a deep breath out of habit. Oxygen was useless to his undead lungs but necessary for all the talking, “they’ve thought me dead for over two hundred years now. I don’t even know them anymore, Tali. I’m positive I left on very poor terms, I was buried in the city after all and that never would have happened if…”

“You don’t know that,” Tali interrupted, grimacing as she locked eyes with him, “there could have been many reasons for that. I remember when you died… well, vaguely as I had no idea who you were then, but I do remember your family mourning.”

Astarion’s languid heart skipped a beat, he felt like he had been punched in the gut at this revelation. Tali had never told him that. Astarion had known that Tali knew of his family but never knew that they had mourned for him. He had never asked about something like that though, of course he hadn’t.

“They mourned?” he asked in a small voice as he rolled over on his back once again, feeling defeated, feeling empty, at a loss. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to hear any more of this. That part of his life was over anyway, dead in the ground like his kin thought of him, right?

“Of course they did. Your mother…” Tali looked at Astarion with a sadness that she rarely displayed, a look that hurt him further, and she must have picked up on his discomfort because she changed direction.

“Gods… I. Look , I was only a child but I remember everyone making a big deal of losing an elf so young,” Tali sighed, hesitating a moment more before continuing, “so I don’t think you left on awful terms, Astarion. If you ever wanted to go back…”

She was right… possibly. What if the negative recollection that he did have of his family was incorrect? It wouldn’t be surprising, as his memories of the time before were so shattered. But why would she even suggest going back to a place that she had run from for so long?

“You’ve been avoiding Evereska for how long now? A century?”

“One hundred and twenty two years thereabouts,” Tali said nonchalantly, taking a particularly hard blade of grass and poking Astarion with it in the side of his neck without warning.

“Gods, Tali, you little shit,” he growled, slapping at the grass with an irritated grin, “then why do you care if we ever go back? Your mother will have your head…”

“I don’t care about returning for myself you idiot, I care about what it means for you. For you to see your family, not mine,” she exhaled, ripping the long blade of grass in two with furrowed brows as Astarion glared at her momentarily before his eyes softened. He grabbed at her arm with his clawed hand, beckoning her wordlessly to his side.

Of course this was about him.

Tali was as selfish of a creature as Astarion was, unless it came to matters involving him, and then she was patient, she was generous and she was kind in ways that he knew that she sometimes felt vulnerable for. He could certainly relate to that, as he often felt the same way with her.

He couldn’t, however, quite understand why she loved him though. He would never be able to fathom why she chose to love him after he had threatened to kill her when they had first met, after every shitty thing he had done to try and manipulate her, after all the baggage he’d brought to the table, but he would not ever question her affection. He would accept her love gratefully, and give all of his in return.

Tali obeyed his beckoning hand and rolled over to his side without another word, lying against him with her head resting on the crook of his arm as he clutched the seemingly infinite amount of fabric of her oversized sleeve. They laid together in silence, watching the moon creep slowly above the grasping bones of bare branches for an indeterminate amount of time, and his mind lulled back to his atrocious past, as it was wont to do during stretches of silence.

And gods, he had endured so much silence in two hundred years, so many endless nights of hushed horrors. He found quietness in busy taverns hunting for prey, he heard nothing when his victims moaned in ecstasy under him, and when they were taken away screaming from the boudoir he would lay in silence, a million miles away. Worlds away.

Like the year he spent clawing and screaming into the dark… there was nothing but silence for so very long.

Astarion bit his lip, bringing his mind out of despair, reining his thoughts back to his gray songbird who chirruped love songs to him before every sunrise, his strange little pet, who could play every instrument put before her and made so much pleasant noise. Tali gave him so much joy, shared his wretched sense of humor, made him laugh every night with endless raucous stories and bawdy jokes. She filled his life with so much sound.

His little songbird now lay shivering against him though, and it pained him that he could provide her no warmth. He held onto her tightly as she clung to him, burrowing her head into the crook of his neck as he touched his lips to her silken hair, nearly loose from its red tie.

“I do appreciate you thinking of me like that, you know. I really do, love” he whispered to her and she nodded slightly, exhaling her warm breath against the cold flesh of his neck, sending chills over his skin.

“Of course. I love you. That’s what people do when they love each other, Astarion,” she said in way that could be construed as flippant if it wasn’t said so sweetly.

“Truly though, if you ever want to go back, we’ll go. Just say the word. I’ll be fine, my mother hasn’t sent anyone looking for me for twenty years or so. I’ll use my ring or something to lay low,” she yawned, “just say the word.”

He smiled into her gray hair, dark as charcoal in the low light, inhaling her scent, clean and floral, and he felt almost overwhelmed with it all. Not in a negative way at all though. Two hundred years of horror, neglect and misery had all led up to this moment of comfort, of truly being happy. He guessed that what he felt was overwhelming gratitude, for his freedom, for another chance at life, for her.

“Maybe if we ever find the cure for my condition…”

“When we find the cure,” Tali murmured, correcting him, and Astarion exhaled, knowing deep in his heart that the cure might not ever come, no matter how many years they searched — but he’d humor her anyway.

“Fine. After we absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent find the end to my curse then I'll think about going back. Perhaps. Maybe I’ll write them first, though. Wouldn’t want to give them a fright, thinking I was some sort of phantom,” he ventured facetiously as she curled up against him closer.

Astarion couldn’t feel the chill in the same way Tali could, and though she was no weakling he couldn’t help but worry over her being too cold. He shifted slightly, ready to announce that it was time to go when she spoke up in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you think it would have been so bad, really?”

“What?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, momentarily confused.

“If we had stayed home, if we had been arranged to marry. I was joking but really, it could have been possible you know. We’re not too far off in age.”

Astarion blinked, his mind going over an entire century of what very well could have been in just a moment. Gods how mad they both would have been at the prospect. But would they have really hated each other after they had gotten to knows one another? They hadn’t liked each other very much when they had first met nearly a year earlier, but now. Now he couldn’t picture his life without the little shit.

“I don’t think so. It wouldn’t have been so awful,” he answered quietly, holding her tighter, helpless to comfort her as she shivered slightly, “but we would have never stayed there.”

“Oh we wouldn’t have stayed at all. Never in a million years. But I don’t think we would’ve hated each other. I don’t think I could ever hate you,” she said groggily, and he smiled to himself as she continued, “do you think you could have hated me?”

“No, I don’t think I’d ever be able to hate you either, songbird,” he said without hesitation before pulling away from her slightly, causing her to protest with a groan.

“But it’s time to move on, pet. The next inn’s a few miles up the way, It’s getting early and you’re freezing to death. That won’t do.”

“Are you sure that you don’t hate me?” Tali whined, curling up into a miserable ball and clutching her hands at her chest as Astarion rose to his knees, beckoning her up.

“Get up. I know you’re hungry too. If the innkeep’s up and about we’ll get you a potato, butter, salt, the works. A glass of hot mead, mulled wine…” Astarion smirked as she opened her eyes wide, he knew that mentioning food, potatoes in particular, would do the trick.

“Well. Fine,” Tali finally relented, her hands reaching up to him with lethargic waggling fingers as he stood to pull her all the way to her feet.

They collected their belongings waiting at the base of the tree and Astarion dug a cloak out from her pack for her, placing it on her shoulders before they made their way back to the road in silence. Tali grabbed his hand as they ventured forth once again.

“We’d have been hand in hand getting the hells out of Evereska too, I think,” she said after some time, and he was amused that the subject was still on her mind, especially after putting the idea of hot buttered potatoes and mead in there. Astarion looked down at her, her rose hued eyes bleary but as spirited as always.

“Darling, they’d have been lucky if we didn’t burn the entire damned place to the ground before we left,” he said with a dismissive wave of his free hand and Tali laughed out loud.

“Oh, so lucky.”

The simple life would have never been for them, not in any way, shape or form. But perhaps if fate had brought them together so long ago they would have had an amazing century with one another, running all over Faerûn, getting into gods only knew what mischief. If only things had been different. If only he hadn’t died in Baldur’s Gate, hadn’t suffered for two hundred godsdamned years…

Tali squeezed his hand tightly, bringing him back from his dark thoughts once again.

Everything leading up to that moment is what they were given. Nothing could change the horrors of the past, but hand in hand they could now do their best to make up for all that lost time.

With Tali by his side everything would be alright.

[mariacallous]

Hundreds of Jewish New Yorkers gathered amid beautifully decorated Christmas trees at Gracie Mansion, Mayor Eric Adams’ residence, for a pre-Hanukkah celebration feting several local Jews and charities.

In prepared remarks, the new Jewish commissioner of the NYPD, Jessica Tisch — whose introduction was met with applause by the packed room — referenced the Hanukkah story, calling Adams — who earlier that day lost a bid to reduce the number of charges he faces as part of a federal corruption indictment — “a light in our community.”

Those receiving awards, honors and citations included Lizzy Savetsky, an Orthodox Jewish influencer in Manhattan known for her pro-Israel content, and four Jewish college students from across the city recognized for their work fighting antisemitism and amplifying Jewish pride on their campuses — Tali Dardashti from New York University, Danielle Babaev from Queens College, Maya Gavriel from Baruch College and Noam Woldenberg from Columbia University.

Guests — including actor and pro-Israel influencer Zach Sage Fox, CEO of UJA-Federation Eric Goldstein and Israeli Consul General in New York Ofir Akunis — circulated from room to room, with many opting to enjoy the unseasonably warm December temperatures on the patio. Richie Taylor, the barrier-breaking Orthodox NYPD deputy chief, was among many uniformed police offers at the event.

On the menu? A smorgasbord of Hanukkah fare and kosher bites which, several signs noted, came courtesy of the Mendy’s outpost at the Jewish Children’s Museum. The spread included latkes with applesauce and sufganiyot, beef lo mein, and chicken shawarma. The wines were Israeli, and assorted flavors of seltzer were also on offer.

A mayoral Hanukkah party is an annual tradition that dates back to Michael Bloomberg’s administration — he put on swanky affairs typically held at the Museum of Jewish Heritage. But Bloomberg was hardly the first New York City mayor to celebrate the Festival of Lights: During David Dinkins’ administration in the early 1990s, there was a menorah lighting ceremony that took place on the steps of City Hall with a cantor, a rabbi, and students from a Jewish school singing together.

In his brief remarks to the crowded ballroom — where many guests shushed their talkative neighbors in order to hear above the din — Adams recalled his visits to Krakow and Rome’s Jewish ghetto. Saying that hatred cannot simply be willed away, he said that as mayor of the city with the largest population of Jews, he and his administration are going “to do [their] part” to fight antisemitism.

“We’re committed to rid our city of any form of hate, antisemitism, hate against Sikhs, hate against African Americans, Islamophobia — hate against any other group,” Adams said.

“We will stand tall together,” he continued. “I want to be extremely clear on this Hanukkah: Eric Leroy Adams is a modern-day Maccabee.”

Other honorees of the evening included Rabbi Boruch Ber Bender from the Achiezer Community Resource Center, which deals with crisis management; Achim B’Yachad, which provides the services of Chai Lifeline for Hasidic families dealing with serious illness or loss; and Chazaq, which seeks to provide Jewish education to Jews of all ages.