#apprentice reader

[skywalkerandmarvelfan]

Everything Will Be Fine (Platonic Yandere Darth Vader with Starkiller's Twin Sister Reader)

A/N: This is a small work I thought of, but didn't want to put on my AO3 account, so I thought of putting it here. I rarely see platonic yandere Vader content, so I made some, even if it's short.

Vader placed your body into a becta tank that was in his Fortress on Mustarfar. You weren't in good condition, far from it, but he would make sure you got well.

After he made sure your vitals were stable and fixed himself up from the fight with your brother, Vader would make sure Palpatine thought you were dead. It was essential that the Emperor thought you were and continued to think so. If he suspected you were alive, he would have you killed. The Rule of Two allowed only two Siths, and not only that but you might also be viewed as a weakness of Vader’s. Vader made sure you were in this condition and if he wanted you dead you would’ve been, and Palpatine would know this as well.

There were a few times Vader thought of killing you and one time he almost did. When he found you and your brother as children, he thought of only taking Starkiller and doing away with you, but there was a chance you were stronger within the force, so you were taken as well. When it was shown Starkiller was the stronger one Vader planned on killing you, but when he was about to you gave him a fearful look as if you knew something bad was going to happen. It normally wouldn’t sway him, but the look you gave resembled the one Padmé gave on Mustafar, and when you whispered a frightened ‘master’, Vader couldn’t continue with his plan, seeing Padmé in you. 

As you grew older you showed traits of Padmé and him when he was Anakin. Vader wished you just had traits of Padmé, but that wasn't his luck. You could be reckless and at times rebellious. However, Vader quickly learned that threatening your brother got you back in line. You had a strong relationship with Starkiller and he returned that bond. The two of you were a fierce duo when you went on missions together, but it could also hurt the goal of the mission if one of you got into a life-threatening position. Neither of you wanted to lose the other so the mission was practically on hold if either of you were in such a situation.

This was why it was critical to keep you sedated until Vader was repaired and could deal with you better. Once you knew your brother was dead it would undoubtedly cause you to rebel and seek revenge against Vader and the Emperor as soon as you could. If you got too wild the Emperor would discover you and would want to kill you himself to make sure you were dead. Vader couldn't have you dead, no matter how much he would try to deny it.

He would never admit this to anyone, but you had become like a daughter to him. When Vader began seeing you as his child he didn't know, maybe it was when he saw traits of Padmé and himself in you, maybe it was the time he was about to kill you, or the time you got seriously injured. It really didn’t matter when, all that mattered now was that he does, and he refused to lose another child.

Vader wouldn’t lose you, not to death, not to the newly formed Rebellion, not to anything. You would stay by his side whether you liked it or not, and if anything threatened to take you, Vader would destroy it. He would tear the galaxy apart if he had to. Palpatine was no exception to this either, Vader would find a way to kill Palpatine in order to protect you and keep you by him. 

You were his daughter, which meant it was Vader’s duty to protect you. He failed to protect his biological child, but he would right that wrong by not failing you.

“You will be fine youngling.” Vader said, more to himself than to you, though he hoped you heard him so you would know things were fine. That it didn’t matter if your twin was dead, because you had him, and even if he was going to punish you for betraying him in order to join Starkiller in trying to free the Rebel leaders and kill him and the Emperor, everything would be fine in the end.

Everything would be fine, Vader would make sure everything would be fine, no matter what he had to do to achieve it.

[bomber-grl]

Main 6 - Cuddle Headcanons

PAIRING(S): Asra Alnazar x Gn!Reader, Julian Devorak x Gn!Reader, Nadia Satrinava x Gn!Reader, Muriel x Gn!Reader, Portia x Gn!Reader, Lucio x Gn!Reader

.

Cuddling positions are practically never ending with Asra. They love to just be close to you and doesn’t have much of a preference.

However, there are some cuddle positions that are preferred after a long day of existing.

One of them is him laying on your chest. Usually this is your way of helping them unwind, especially when you massage his scalp and play with his hair.

Other than that, just hearing your heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of your chest comforts them, even after all that’s happened.

Then there’s the time when he just wants to show you that he loves you.

This usually prompts them to start kissing you all over your face and you end up falling into his arms, all bundled up by the warm blankets.

Honestly overall, they just love to cuddle in bed with you and whatever position you two end up laying in

Even if it isn’t always the same position you wake up in

Also bonus points if you end up letting Faust cuddle up with you two, she does get cold sometimes yknow

Which she most likely always does end up doing

In Nadia’s route, it’s noted that there is only once bed in the shop so it’s likely Asra and you share it even when you’re not cuddling

So most times he’d fall asleep from exhaustion near you, with faust slithering on him

Probably hugs you around your waist too

And if you try to strike a “sexy” pose he’ll laugh and play along

The worst

Ofc he’s not actually the worst Lucio still exists but the way he cuddles at times is a hit or miss

Especially since most times he ends up sprawling his limbs out wherever they can, usually ending up on top of you unless you spoon him.

When it’s actually enjoyable to cuddle with him, most times he enjoys being spooned or mutual holding.

We all know how self deprecating he is so might as well show him how well he can be loved, even if you’re shorter or smaller, that’s no excuse

Just don’t mind his long limbs

Regardless of how you choose to hold him, he’ll always hold onto you back. Now on the other end of the spectrum where it’s damn near torture-

He has no regard for you- in his sleep at least

Like bro is genuinely squishing you with his limbs, and you can’t even move them because you’re trapped 💔

He probably unknowingly hogs the blanket too since he’s slipped off the bed more times than he’d like to admit and has taken the blanket with him.

He has all his weight on it, making damn near impossible to get the blanket from under him, leaving you shivering and timbering in the cold

If you’d prefer to be the one held then he’d be more than happy to 😭 just be prepared for him to be pretty flustered by being the one “in charge”

He does apologize to you when he wakes up if he’s been squishing you, etc etc though

Mother

She definitely one of the LI that are on the podium of best cuddlers. she holds you so warm and tight it’s honestly the best.

She is not the type to be all that physically affectionate, which is honestly a bummer because her hugs and cuddles are the best ever.

Often times at the end of an exhausting day as countess, she loves to spoil you and hold you in her arms.

She’s more than happy to massage your scalp or shoulders, even feeding you some fruit would be sufficient

Sleep wise, she’s as elegant as she is when she’s awake. Her hair is somehow perfect (must be the rose colored lenses talking-) and she’s not a blanket hogger of any kind

She’s really considerate even in her sleep and she’ll randomly wake up in the middle of the night and look for you

If you’re not covered by the blanket, she’ll tuck you in and go back to bed.

Either that or she’ll also hold you in her arms depending on if she believes that you want your space.

Now, if you’re more a sprawler, always falling off the bed, or just not that pretty of a sleeper she find it super endearing

She’ll literally get up from her cozy place on the bed to help you back up. Even going as far as carrying you if that’s what would be more comfortable.

Now, we all know Nadia prefers to be the one “in charge” she prefers to pamper and that’s alright.

But, if you prefer to also show her your affection that same way she’ll be more than happy to oblige- although it’ll be done with a blush.

When cuddling Muriel is super gentle and is hyper aware because of his larger stature, making him scared at the possibility of hurting you.

Which, you have to reassure him would never happen because you’d be happy to be crushed by him

With your constant reassurance and how often you tend to flop yourself on top of him, he eventually just gets used to it.

Cuddle wise, he’s usually big spoon for obvious reasons, he’ll hold you against his chest too along with Inanna being sandwiched by you both.

Again, you tend to be the one laying on him and when he chooses to sleep on his back, you’re laying on his chest and just absorbing his warmth.

I think it’d be obvious, but Muriel would also enjoy being held aswell. When you confront him with the idea he’s flustered because not only has he never considered it but he’s so touch starved.

If you have him lay his head on your chest, being held in your arms or even go as far as have him be little spoon, well his blush is out of this world.

If anything, he’s just happy that you’d want him to feel loved, as if you being around him isn’t enough

It isn’t

He’s basically beet red and he just accepts the affection ,laying there with you because again, he loves it.

Whenever/ if he tries to argue and say that he’s too big or whatever just say that you want him 🔛🔝 of you and just watch him squirm and get so flustered that he forgets

He ends up inevitably bringing it up again, so just cuddle the man

Sleep wise, Muriel is also really considerate. He tries not to take as much space and if you end up subconsciously tugging a blanket that he’s on, he’ll immediately move to give it to you.

Treat him well.

Yes, yes, yes, just yes

She’s the absolute best person to cuddle with, she’s such a cuddle bug and honestly neither of you guys have a preference most times and so it ends in just cuddling however.

Most times it’s either of you on the others chest. Mostly it’s Portia that enjoys having you rest on her and she enjoys playing with your hair or just massaging your scalp.

She’s more than happy to be the big spoon if that’s what you prefer, maybe she’d even tease you for being so “bold” as to ask.

Ironic considering that the instant that you insist on coddling her she’s flushed from head to toe.

Literally almost literally every time you two cuddle she’ll always put a leg over you.

Just a quirk of hers that you’ve noticed and a definite plus is how warm she is which causes you to cling to her.

Which definitely warrants some teasing for clinging onto her like some koala. She finds it endearing though and is definitely worth is since she ends up peppering kisses all over your face

W

Is it really cuddling with Portia if you exclude Pepi? No, no it’s not

Pepi is so cute!! It’s a well known fact and she’ll always end up crawling and making her way through the bundle of blankets to rest her little self in between you and Portia.

Sleep wise, Portia is also a hit or miss 😭

She’ll either cling to you in her sleep while also being considerate so it’s not bothersome

Or she’ll sleep lazily and drool a bit, causing her to be a bit embarrassed once she finally wakes up.

The worst motherfucker to cuddle with, EVER (up to interpretation whether it’s said with love)

Not likely)

Like he sleeps in either of two ways and neither of them are necessarily the best.

The first way is him being all lovey dovey and cuddly with you while the second one makes you wish death (again) upon him.

The first one is admittedly really nice. He’s in your arms and just being the needy, clingy bastard we all know Lucio to be.

It’s not so nice because of how this doesn’t change even during the summer time. You’ll definitely end up getting a heatstroke because of him clinging onto you one day.

That’s just the first way though.

The second way is him being sprawled out all over you without a care in the world.

His limbs are so freaking heavy too, it’s not like you could escape even if you desperately wanted to.

Worst part? He steals the fucking blanket all the time

Literally refuses to let go of his weirdly tight grip on the blanket in his sleep, leaving you shivering and timbering all night.

And then he has the audacity of getting mad at you for pushing him off the bed.

Smh

That’s all i have on this fucker

[luxthestrange]

CRK Incorrect quotes #1 Too much Truth-

Pre-Beast Corruption

Sage Of Truth*Is working with his witch, as his "Mother's" Pupil comes in to bring Her and Him refreshments and snacks* You bring us sustenance while we are hard at work, Y/n. That's what I appreciate about you

Witch Apprentice!Y/n*Chuckles at the small cookie, handing your master her favorite afternoon tea and cake*Is that what you appreciate about me?~

Witch: Go easy on my little sage,My-

Sage Of Truth: YOU'RE APPRENTICE IS HOT MASTER!? THERE I SAID IT!?-

Sage Of Truth*Proceeds to run away,blushing*I SAID IT!?!, REGRET NOTHING!!!...I REGRET NOOOTHING!?!

Sage Of Truth*Pants heavily halfway across the room and whines*T-too small to run in your home!

Witch & AW!Y/n:...

I blame you @theweepingegg for re-introducing me to crk again- now I can't stop playing it...AGAIN

-IREALLYLOVEYOURARTBTW

[spacycatmeowx3]

Yall cant tell me they ain’t hitting the same pose 😭

[renstardust]

Two months.

It had been exactly two months since you fled the First Order, leaving behind your life as Apprentice beneath Commander Ren.

You left without any trace or explanation. Ren assumed you left because you didn’t think anyone would care; that they could track down another dark side loving Force-user with ease. He worried that maybe, you thought you were disposable.

It’s not like the lingering glances or touches between you and your Master meant anything anyway — it was all just business. Neither of you had time for feelings or any of that soft shit.

He assumed you’d think he wouldn’t care if you left. That if anything, he’d probably be relieved. That he could find someone older, stronger, more serious about being in one of the most sought after positions in the galaxy.

Kylo was losing his fucking mind, actually.

The worst part was that he could feel you. Everywhere. Not just in the Force signature you’d left behind that lingered in the cold, metal hallways of the Supremacy, or in your former quarters (the same quarters he now only visits once a day, sometimes twice), but he could feel you, out there, running about.

Driving him utterly insane.

He replayed every little conversation in his head, every moment you’d spent together: training sessions, meditations, meal times, quiet moments in cockpits during missions. Trying to piece together every memory, trying to figure out exactly when and how he screwed up.

What he did — or didn’t do — to keep you.

Losing you made Kylo realize how deeply he actually felt about you. The sound of your voice that he felt soothed by, the way your black clothes hugged your body in a manner that would make his pants feel uncomfortably tight, how graceful and calculative your combat skills looked, both in training and actual fights.

He missed the warmth of your scent. The softness of your hair. Those beautiful fucking eyes. Your little quirks, your sense of humor, your confidence, your occasional stubbornness, your persistence.

Gods, he missed you. You haunted his dreams, interrupted his meditation sessions, caused a tightness in his chest that hasn’t disappeared since the day you were suddenly gone.

As if you were never here to begin with.

Kylo’s lip trembled, tears pricking at his hazel eyes as he sat in his quarters after a particularly rough day of training with the Knights. He shook his head, shoving his feelings aside, including the everlasting urge to go sit in your old quarters across the hall and try to smell the barely-there scent of your perfume. He still hasn’t let the cleaning droids come near that room.

Was he….grieving you?

Should he go looking for you? Maybe he could coax you back-

“Why is everyone being a dick to me today?”

Your voice suddenly filled his quarters, pulling him from his daze, the metal door sliding shut behind you. Kylo blinked, tense as ever, quickly rising from his seat and adjusting himself. His eyes were wide, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted.

“I get it, I took a little leave to visit my family, but I really needed it, and I’m glad I did it. Two months without my datapad was really refreshing too. It’s not my fault everyone else here is married to their job.”

Kylo cleared his throat, confused as all hell.

“Apprentice-“

“Especially Hux! He looked at me like I was a ghost. I get that we aren’t on the greatest terms, but he could’ve at least acknowledged me with a nicety.”

“APPRENTICE.”

Your lips snapped shut, eyes widening at your Master’s stern, husky voice. The extra deep version that you only heard when he was at his breaking point.

“What, Kylo?”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“…On vacation? I sent everyone notice like three weeks before I left. And the night before…?”

“Nobody knew you went on vacation.”

“But Officer Mitaka told me to have fun before I left.”

A beat of silence. A creak of leather in Kylo’s gloved hands, now squeezing into big fists. Tight, trembling fists.

“Which database did you forward the notice to?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Eleven. I usually message in eleven.”

“Highest ranking officials message in database thirteen, Apprentice.”

Your pupils dilate, lips parting. “Fuck, is that why none of you guys reacted to the pictures I sent?”

Kylo didn’t know whether he wanted to kill you, or take you right then and there. Irritation and relief pulsed through his body simultaneously as he took in slow breaths of frustration. He was fucking pissed.

And so, so fucking happy.

You were here.

You never really left.

Kylo pulled his lips into his mouth, eyes darkening before he responded. “Medbay. Now. Let’s go.”

“Why?”

“I’m getting you tagged, Apprentice.”

[barnesnatts]

His eyeeessss😍🫶🏻

[iridescent-solstice]

Thinking about how MC and Asra have been living together for such a long time that they probably spend most of their evenings unwinding together . . . Taking refuge in one another after a long day of dealing with unruly customers, thousands of hours spent making potions, Julian breaking in and also breaking a window in the process-

Both of them, Asra and mc, steal glances at one another from across the room until someone gives in . . . . Soft kisses and wandering hands that make MC feel like they’re on cloud nine. An embrace where he holds MC close and rubs their back trying to help them relax. Loosen all the knots in mc’s back so they feel less tense . . .

Imagine laying on his chest afterwards as he reads some boring magic book to you in his melodic, airy voice that never seems to waver with the amount of affection it holds for you. In these moments its all about recharging and letting the world fade away. Your focus solely and solely on him. A love that can never be tarnished nor stolen just like the heart that you two share together can never be anyone else’s.

[nebbyy]

Asra Alnazar x reader - Intimacy before and after

Summary: just some headcanons that came to my mind about Asra<3

Warning: smuttt, but nothing crazy tho, there are mostly mentions or hints of smut, nothing specifically described (it’s mostly just angst tbh). There are also SPOILERS for Asra’s route and the Arcana plot in general, so if you haven’t finished playing it I suggest you don’t read this post. 

A/N: just to specify, reader is wrote as non-binary:) Also, this is the first smuttish thing I write, so feedbacks and advices are very much welcome<3<3

Asra has always been a passionate lover. It’s just the way he is, his body can’t help but follow the intensity of feelings his soul feels, and transfer it from the level of the soul to the level of the body

When he first met you, it was almost as if a wave washed over him, depriving him of balance, and he could find it once again in the feeling of you and your body, pressed against him

Passion mixes with intensity and haste the first times the two of you have sex. His every movement is a physical demonstration of  just how deep, how powerful, his feelings for you are

Once the two of you are done, you’re left breathless, legs shaking and sore, sweat covering your body, tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. You’re spent in the best way possible

It starts to change during the beginning of the Red Plague. The deep empathy you feel for the people dying in the streets, the desire to do something to help, takes all your desires to feel pleasure (or anything joyful for that matter), replacing it with the urge to help as many as you can

You start growing distant from each other, the atmosphere in the shop becomes tense, the interactions between you and Asra are short and almost void of any emotion. You start visiting the castle more often, volunteering to help doctor Devorak in finding a cure for this Plague. It comes without say that sex wasn’t really in neither of your minds

And it only becomes worse after your death. Asra feels that same wave washing over him, but this time he doesn’t welcome the feeling of it. It make feel lost, knowing that the very person he used to hold on to, the only one that made him forget the rest of the world, and just give into the pleasure the wave brought

This wave brings grief, desperation. Hell, it even brings hallucinations to some point. He can’t make out what’s real and what’s fake, he can’t discern when he’s dreaming and when he’s awake

It’s at this point that his situationship with Julian starts. We all know just how toxic it was, for the both of them. But Julian needed to feel love in these dreadful times, and Asra needed to feel that same feeling of grounding to save him from the power of that wave

It wasn’t the same as you, he knew that very well. Julian couldn’t fill the void of love Asra felt, he could only satisfy his carnal desires, give him that brief high that, for just a moment, made him forget everything that was happening in his life, his losses, his mistakes, his regrets

But not much time passes before that high becomes unsatisfying, and the guilt of what he’s doing takes over him. How can he do this with Julian, when all he’s thinking of is you? How can he deem himself worthy of having you once again in his arms, when instead of keeping the void you left empty, awaiting for your return, he filled it with someone else, someone not even comparable to you in his eyes?

That’s when the weird relationship between Asra and Julian ends, when Asra conveys all his energies and time in finding a way to get you back

At first, there was nothing in his mind when it came to you other than gratitude to have you back along with the utmost care to tend to you, to comfort you when you were in pain or scared at whatever appeared new to you after you came back. Your mind was at the same level as one of a child, there was no desire in Asra other than to have you back as you were

As time goes by, and you regain the aspects of the person you once were, that desire, that wave of passion, starts to awaken once again in him

And then after years of longing for the feeling of you’re touch, of your body pressed against him, he once again can feel that same feeling of euphoria once your bodies merge once again. Only that this time, his demeanor has changed. There’s a different kind of intensity in his actions

There’s not the feverish haste in his movements anymore; instead, he takes his sweet time kissing you, caressing your body, worshipping you as if you were some sort of deity. He holds you as if you’d disappear in his arms if he loosens his grip too much

His thrusts are slow and deep, making that wave of pleasure that’s in him fall into you too. It makes you feel a deeper kind of pleasure, one with such forse that it has you detached from reality once you reach your high, it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and it makes you only desire to hold Asra closer, to have him deeper inside you. You almost wish you could become one

There are still times where you have fast, rough sex, one that ends quickly and leaves you both breathless and spent. But you just prefer to feel that deeper connection, the one that has you longing for more, that morphs into endless hours of just holding each other. It makes you both feel as if time has stopped, and there’s no one else in the world but you two

[sxftkxssxs]

Hellooo! I absolutely like your headcanons! Especially the hair one. But I can't help but wonder how would main 6 react to hair care as form of intimacy? And their partner generally liking their hair and trying to touch it or run their hand through them. Best luck and love!

Honestly, I don’t know where I got the washing their hair part of this post, and I apologize that Asra and Julian’s parts are so long haha! I just had so many thoughts about those two!

Hair Care Intimacy with The Main 6

Asra

He looooves this! Run your hands through his hair, help him wash it, brush it, do anything you want with it!

Faust just watches from a corner, both slightly jealous and entertained by Asra’s actions.

They do think it is one of the more intimate actions you can do for another person. You both probably did each other’s hair often before the plague, so it’s quite bittersweet at first. He’ll often reminisce when you start doing it together, and the very first time he definitely sheds tears. They’ll explain why they’re so emotional if you wanted to know. He definitely lets you make it your own again though, finding how you want to do it in the present rather than how you used to.

Asra will reciprocate whatever you give him and double it. You take time out of your day to help him wash his hair? He’s already gotten a bath ready and very specifically picked hair products placed on the side for you when you come home. He knows he doesn’t necessarily have to do any of this, but this is just how his love works.

Faust occasionally feels left out, and now the two of you have a tiny little comb that you fake brush her scales with. She definitely plays into it and does little shivers that go through her whole body.

Brushing Asra’s hair isn’t too difficult with practice, despite the small curls and thickness. Though, it does occasionally puff out if it’s cared for a little rougher than normal. (It’s a cute look, but Asra doesn’t quite agree that it’s suitable for outside the comfort of your home.)

When you go to touch their hair in any way, they actually lean towards you to let you reach it better. They’re such a sap and they don’t care to show it. They also let out a little sigh once your hand finally makes contact.

Julian

Unfortunately, until you wear out the workaholic in him, you’ll often take care of each other. This includes bathing together, doing each other’s hair, swapping cooking duty depending on who’s less wore out, etc. He’ll eventually get his life a little more together, but until then you get to enjoy doing all sort of caring things with each other.

Julian gets very flustered when you both start doing these things. He never thought he’d get to be here, like this, or with you and its enough to make even his ears pink. It’s moments like this that he’ll finally start to relax after his day. He’ll mumble answers to any questions you ask, occasionally asking questions of his own. Times like these will also make him more sentimental on off days. He might ramble about how he didn’t think he’d really make it to this point or how you’re just too kind to him. He knows that you’re stubborn enough to stay, to be part of his fight, but it feels like a dream come true some days!

His hair is the easiest thing to manage. You could pour straight grease on it and it’d perk right up a few hours later. He’s aware of this, so he’d let you put whatever you’d like to in it, (within reason, it needs to have some kind of connection to the hair care world.)

Sometimes he’ll put on an act when you express that you want to touch his hair. It’s all out of love! He’s very playful, acting as though touching his hair is so scandalous..how could you both show your faces the next day after showing such tantalizing behavior?? He always gives in and even encourages it often once he gets that out of the way!

People are actually so used to you both messing with each other’s hair that the day seems incomplete when you don’t. If you manage to make it that far, someone is bound to ask what in the hell is wrong with you two. (It’s Asra, he knows Julian is too insufferable to let that long go by unless something is fishy….and he’s a little curious)

Nadia

She’ll notice right away and there is no stopping it.

Once she does notice, she’ll offer situations for you to touch her hair if that was what you wanted. Though, the one situation she would never put on you is actually brushing her hair. She knows it’s long, she uses special imported products, and she often has to use various methods to get it styled how she’d like.

If you offer or just go straight into brushing her hair, she’ll be delightfully caught off guard. Nadia will mention you didn’t have to and that she appreciates the action. Despite her concerns, her hair is pretty easy to manage, other than being thick. She’ll offer to reciprocate if you’d allow it, and then it’s up to you if you’d like her to try managing your hair.

She doesn’t appreciate it being over the top in public, but she loves when you run your hands through her hair. Playing with her hair so casually in any capacity (with her permission of course,) is something she loves. She takes it as a sign you’re comfortable in your relationship with her, and don’t see her as just the countess. She’ll occasionally brush her own hand through your hair or tuck a stray strand behind your ear.

If you want to help her wash her hair, you’ll both be getting special treatment from the other. She’ll always reciprocate in the shared space of her personal bath. She also thinks it shows that she trusts you just as much as you do her! Nadia loves the intimacy of helping each other unwind after the stress of the palace.

Muriel

I feel like this type of intimate care is a given with Muriel. He gets his own tough love hair treatment from Morga and ends up liking and even keeping the style. Though he will always be a little hesitant to change it up permanently, he’ll let you mess with it from time to time.

Washing his hair is a little more…intimate in his mind, but he’ll allow it! He actually loves it but he’ll keep that fact (verbally) to himself. He won’t return the favor until a little longer, but it pays off. He’s very good at managing hair despite how he treated his own in the past.

He likes the feeling of your fingers at work in his hair. It helps ground him when he’s extremely stressed, and it shows his trust for you. He doesn’t talk much unless you ask him a question once you start messing with his hair. He’ll even lean his head back to make sure you can get to all of it.

Muriel isn’t so confident in his own styling abilities, he doesn’t have much practice. The only way you’ll get him to style your own hair is if you show him how you like to do it. Eventually, he gets to a point he can do it his own way and get the same result.

Inanna forces you both to include her, and if you playfully ignore her whines, she’s not afraid to bite down on your sleeve just hard enough to pull you down. She’s a wolf, so she really doesn’t need to be brushed, but she loves it so much! If you both start brushing her fur, she’ll be in doggy heaven. So much attention!!

Portia

She loves it very much, however her hair is very curly, so if you don’t really know what you’re doing, it could be catastrophic. She’ll teach you how you can handle it without frizzing it up, or making it flatten out if yours isn’t curly, so that you can still express your affections!

She has a routine to go through with her hair, but if you wanted to contribute she’d be so excited! She’ll show you everything she uses, telling you how it works and how to use it. Portia definitely enjoys this form of care very much.

If you offer to help her wash her hair, she’s all for it. She’d love to return the favor if you’d allow it! She thinks these moments are the most precious and caring of them all. She’ll often try and linger, through playful squabbles.

Pepi does not want to partake very much. She can bathe and groom herself thank you! (Though when she finally ends up dirty enough to warrant a bath it is hellfire. No one is left unscathed.)

Lucio

He has such high standards for hair care, I’m so sorry.

Lucio acts very snobbish at first. He’s just so used to having people take care of him with whatever he’d wanted from the palace! He’ll ask what you’ll use, what does it do? Are you sure that one is good for him? Wait why are you walking away?!

You’ll have to run through the whole, no you will not use inappropriate products, yes they are all handpicked, and yes you will be gentle, before he’ll allow it. However, once you get him in that situation you have to absolutely drag him out. He’s so touch starved it is insane. He’ll find ways to get you to keep your hands in his hair, just when you think you’re done, he’ll bring out another excuse until he runs out. At a certain point you’re bound to figure out he’s just bluffing to make you keep going.

He loves having your hands in his hair in any situation. It does make him a little sleepy/slow his brain down significantly, but he doesn’t stop talking while this happens. He just kinda, slows down. It’s very amusing to watch him sluggishly put words together while his eyes fight to stay open. If you do it too long though, Melchior and Mercedes get a little jealous over the two of you. Melchior will often push himself between the two of you to get your attention while Mercedes just throw herself next to Lucio.

If you want to touch his hair any other time, he tries to act like he doesn’t care. It doesn’t work. He‘ll let you have your way more often than not though! (He does get his revenge though, and definitely messes up your hair ten times worse.)

[saintunhinged]

need you guys to tell me if people still are interested in the arcana because im back in that era and i need to write cute things for the m6 ASAP !!!! PLEASE.

[skywalkerandmarvelfan]

Favorite (Platonic Yandere Darth Vader with Starkiller's Twin Sister Reader ~~ Chapter 1)

A/n: This story isn't connected to my one short: Everything Will Be Fine (Platonic Yandere Darth Vader with Starkiller's Twin Sister Reader).

Chapter summary: After finding two Force-sensitive children Vader takes them both and plans to train the stronger one as his apprentice and kill the weaker one. When it is discovered, you were the weaker twin Vader goes to kill you.

Vader lifted the rogue Jedi up in the air in a Force choke. “I sense someone far more powerful nearby. Where is your master?”

“The Dark Side has clouded your mind; you killed my master years ago.”

“Then now you will share his fate.” Vader said, but before he could strike the Jedi down his lightsaber flew from his hand. Shocked, Vader turned to see what took his weapon, only to see a young boy holding it, a girl the same age as him standing beside him. “Children?”

"Run!" The Jedi yelled before his neck was snapped with the Force.

You and Galen flinched seeing your father’s now lifeless body being dropped.

Vader took a cautious step to you two, not wanting Galen to potentially use his lightsaber against him. When Vader reached a handout Galen stepped in front of you then pointed the lightsaber at Vader. He gave the saber a small swing trying to protect you when Vader took another cautious step forward. Galen doubted he would be able to do anything to Vader, but wanted to try to protect you, even if it was futile in the end.

"Lord Vader," an officer said, running to the Sith, three Stormtroopers following close behind.

The three Stormtroopers raised their blasters at you and your brother.

Vader looked at his troops then at you and Galen. You were both strong and untrained in the Force; it would be a shame if you were both killed when Vader could easily take one of you to train as an apprentice.

Vader turned his attention back to the troopers then quickly retrieved his lightsaber with the Force, and deflected the blaster bolts back at the Stormtroopers and Imperial Officer.

You gasped and grabbed your twin’s shoulder at the loud sounds of blaster bolts, a ‘vhoom’ of a lightsaber and painful grunts of men as they were killed. You wanted to look away from the gruesome sight and run like your father said, but found yourself frozen in fear. You tightened your grip on Galen when the bulky, tall, figure of Vader walked up to you and your brother. Galen tried to guard you with his body by straightening himself and spreading out his arms.

Vader found the actions of Galen trying to protect you humorous. Anything the young boy could do to save you would be useless in the end. If Vader wanted you dead, you would be dead.

Vader was going to kill you like he did your father, but there was a chance you were stronger in the Force. He couldn’t pinpoint which one of you was the stronger one, as the Force emitted from both of you in waves, and your Force presence appeared to merge with each other. If Vader wanted the stronger child as his apprentice he would have to take you both then kill the one who was weaker.

Finding out who was stronger took longer than Vader thought. Both of you picked up the Force easily, and when you decided to alter your combat technique to a long range or Jar'Kai style instead of charging and overpowering an opponent, you were both good in combat. However, you tended to be more stubborn in certain aspects and at times lost focus during meditation, making Galen the more appealing candidate for Vader’s apprentice. As more time passed with each of you having more one-on-one training with Vader, Galen proved to be the more powerful twin.

This outcome pleased Vader greatly. Galen was more focused, and you were far too caring with Galen, always warned him to be careful, hugged him to show comfort, tried to patch him up, and tried to calm him when he was angered. Caring wasn't a Dark Side trait, and it was these traits that added to your weakness as well as weakening Galen. Vader also liked Galen more, Vader was more distant to him than with you. Whenever your caring side showed for your brother, it reminded Vader of when Padmé would care for other people, and at rare moments Vader found himself going easier on you or spending more time on you than he should. Vader didn't know the gender of the child he would've had with Padmé, but believed the child would be a girl, and it was these two things that had Vader less distant to you. He disliked the fact he was closer to you and how you reminded him of Padmé, so it was best if you were the one to be disposed of.

In order to make it less obvious that he killed you Vader waited a few days after discovering Galen was stronger and went to your chambers during the middle of the night. If you were asleep when he killed you, you wouldn't make a disturbance through the Force and potentially wake Galen with your Force bond. Vader had learned that the two of you had a unique bond in the Force, and were more attuned to each other, having a heightened connection to the other’s feelings, were able to tell if the other was hurt or in danger from miles away, and were able to find the other from miles away just by following the other’s Force presence. Vader was unsure if this connection could wake Galen if you were scared enough or in danger, but he didn’t want to find out. It would be better if Galen didn't know or suspect Vader was the cause of your death, as that could bring problems with the boy's loyalty or behavior.

Unfortunately, when Vader reached your chambers the door swooshed open and you ran into his boot. 

Pain spread throughout your nose after hitting Vader's boot, but the sudden pain was quickly forgotten when the mechanical breathing hit your ears, and you felt a swift change in the Force. You jumped back blood running cold by Vader’s presence and the sharp chill within the Force. Out of the three years of you being trained by Vader, he had never been at your chamber door in the middle of the night, and him being here made you on edge. The worst part about this situation was the Force felt antsy and as if it was poking you with needles of ice, which served to make you more anxious. You had no idea why the Force felt like this and didn’t like it at all.

Part of you wanted to keep staring at Vader’s boots and not look at him, hoping that if you didn’t look at him you would become invisible to the Sith’s gaze. The other part of you wanted to continue heading to Galen’s chambers, hoping if you kept on going like you never ran into Vader this situation would be forgotten as if it never happened, and your nerves from your nightmare, Vader being outside your door, and whatever he planned to do would vanish by your brother’s presence. However, if you kept looking at Vader’s boots or kept walking without acknowledging him, it could be taken as disrespectful, and you’ve learned the hard way that Vader demanded respect.

You gulped down your nerves then slowly looked up, trying to hide your emotions, but doubted you did well in hiding them. You regretted looking up as the cold running blood froze when you actually saw Vader’s helmet pointed down at you. 

"Master," you whispered, mentally cursing with how your voice seemed to abandon you, and how your mouth became dry.

Vader glared at you. You shouldn’t be awake at this hour, you should be asleep, you had to be asleep for the best outcome of his plan to be achieved. You being awake only made him dislike you more, but what made him hate you was how the frightened facial expression resembled the frightened look Padmé gave him on Mustafar, and the frightened whisper of 'master' made him remember when she whispered his name when he Force choked her. Vader knew if he really wanted, he could still kill you if you were awake, but he couldn’t kill you when you resembled Padmé, even if it was just by a facial expression combined with a whisper. He would have to kill you another night.

“Is-is there anything I can do for you?” You asked, voice still quiet.

“Come with me.”

“Yes master.” You said, forcing the words out. “Can I go see Galen first?”

“No.”

“Please, I always go to him after I have a nightmare.”

“No. Now come,” Vader gripped your shoulder then pulled you from the doorway and into the hallway.

“Please master, I must see him. I must see that he is alive.” 

“He is fine. Do you not sense him through the Force?”

“I do, but I have to see him to be sure.” You said, desperate to see him.

If you had any other nightmare you would deal with not going to Galen, not wanting to anger Vader, especially with the Force’s sharp chill, but after the nightmare of him being killed you had to make sure he was still alive. You always checked on Galen whenever you had the dream of him dying. You knew it was a dream, but it never failed to scare you to the very core. It felt so real, regardless if he looked way older than he was now, but you couldn’t get the image of his lifeless body laying on the ground. 

“The Force is enough confirmation,” Vader said. 

“But-” you paused when Vader gave a firm squeeze to your shoulder, a warning you knew, but you couldn’t bring yourself to heed it, “it eases me to see him. If I don’t see him all I can picture and think about is him lying dead on the floor like he does in my dream.” You clasped your hands together. “Please let me check on him, I will be able to focus so much more on whatever you have me do master.”

Vader felt something tightening in his chest at your pleading face, and the knowledge you had a dream of someone you loved dying. The fear you had reminded him of the fear he felt when he had visions of his mother and Padmé dying. The difference though was your fear was from dreams and his were visions. 

At least Vader believed your fear was from a dream. He couldn’t imagine a child like yourself having Force visions of the future. However, you were strong in the Force, even if you weren’t as strong as your brother, and the Force did work in mysterious ways, so it could be possible your dreams of Galen dying were visions. If your dreams were visions Vader felt a sense of sadness that you were experiencing this, knowing how painful it could be.

Vader clenched his fist, angered at how he felt a bit closer to you with the revelation of your dreams of your twin dying. Worse than that he was angered at how you reminded him of himself, and how his first thought was pity, instead of anger and an urge to kill you. 

“No. Use your fear in your training, it will give you power.” Vader said, before dragging you down the hallway by your shoulder.

Vader would give you a harder training session for giving him these feelings and memories of his past.

You gulped, having a feeling you made a mistake, and that you should’ve heeded the warning to stop talking.

[thekitchenywitch]

Asra has seen so many things and experienced so much grief for people that came back into his life one at a time.

First he lost his parents who were locked away by the devil for the simple crime helping Lucio and protecting their son.

Then Muriel ( which I think a lot of people forget). I don’t think Muriel would have been able to make himself go back to Asra after he’d been hurt badly in a fight. I truly don’t think Muriel would be able to do that to the bright-eyed, lively, poofy-haired kid that made him remember what life was worth.

Then you and as I mentioned before, he wasn’t even there, he had begged and pleaded with you to come with him but you wanted to stay, you wanted to help those who had been doomed by the plague. And he wasn’t even there to hold your hand or take care of you as you died, and it ripped him apart.

The first to come back was Muriel, who had helped in Asra’s plan to bring you back. Muriel was the first person who came back, the first part of his family he’d seen in years.

Next was you. He gave up half of his own heart to bring you back. To hold you in his arms again. But you didn’t know who he was. You didn’t know who you were. You didn’t know anything or anyone, and I think it would have destroyed him a second time. He taught you how to be yourself again, how to be a person, a magician, a soul, you. And you gave him everything he could ask for in return.

You helped him to find his parents again, you helped him save them and their familiars. You brought them home.

Asra’s route and life held so much grief and so much joy at the same time. He held so much inside of him and still managed to be good. That’s why I admire him. He had so many emotions so many clashing feeling and he still stayed kind. He still chose to be himself. He chose to stay the bright-eyed, poofy-haired, marvel that he is.

[hwalovs]

The Apprentice 1/?

Chapter One; Deer, Fox, or Rabbit?

Pairing; Viktor x Vampire!Reader Warnings; none too extreme? Blood drinking (animal), mainly just yappers yapping about things. it’s a little twilight coded, so what?? sue me! Word Count; 7.8k

Summary; Finding an Apprentice should be easy. You have a simple task, one that cannot be handled lightly. Yet, the mind is a unique thing, and each one you've come across don't seem to meet your specific qualifications. Until your dear friend and confidant, Heimerdinger, brings forth a man with a bright ambition and a determination that could rival anyone.

A/n; oh god,, another series?? this one ahs been cooking for the last few days, and after finishing arcane and igniting my LOVE for Viktor, i decided it was time to try my hand at writing him :>> my darling friend @disturbyn beta read this so I’m no longer liable for financial instability!

THIS IS NOT EDITED!

DO NOT COPY, REPOST ON OTHER SITES, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION!

“My dear friend,” a voice chimes, and you smile. Dropping to a knee, you open your arms to greet him with a brief hug. He was warm, fur soft as it touched your cheek. He pulls away, and with bright eyes he says your name. He was dressed in his usual councilman attire, blue fabric complimented with gold. 

“Councilor Heimerdinger, what a pleasant sight to see.”

He waves you off, stepping away to give you a glare “drop the formalities, would you?”

Shrugging, you rise to your full height, tipping your head to your driver who opened your door. The streets of Piltover were bustling with life, people walking in and out of the building. The sun was shining brightly, no cloud in the sky, the buildings of Piltover glimmering and dazzling. On the rare occasions that you visit, the city never fails to amaze you with its beauty. More innovations included, more steps into the future. 

Even with your jacket on, it was cold outside. The air was biting at your cheeks as you walked the stairs, body shivering as the wind wrapped your body. Heimerdinger couldn’t tell the difference, his thick fur protecting his small body from the elements. 

Unless it was raining, then you would see him running for any kind of shelter. 

“I find it customary, dear friend,” you jest, beginning to climb the steps of the building. It was large, almost doubling the size of the one from the last Inventors Competition you attended. It was hosted in Piltover this year, situated right between the heart of the city, and the bridge that leads to Zaun. The building was a museum, repurposed for the day. Three sets of double doors were propped open, allowing people to freely go in and out. Marble steps lead the way up, the chains on your boots clinking with each step you take. 

“Yet, you’ve arrived late,” Heimerdinger says, “not very customary of you, my dear.”

“Eh,” you shrug, “I doubt my presence was missed.”

He shakes his head, “most have already asked for an audience with you. You’re going to come across many disappointed faces, I fear.”

“Aw, poor babies,” you kiss your teeth, stopping in the doorway to look around the room. Multitudes of tables were set up to hold different inventions. Most of the crowd had already moved on, the aisles free to roam comfortably. 

Although you’d have rather stayed home, there was a nagging that stayed consistent in your mind. It whispered to you during the night, while you tried to work, while you roamed the empty halls of your estate. 

Oh, sweet death. It would sing, a symphony without the strings. 

Heimerdinger's letters on the subject once brought you annoyance, but this year, you decided to indulge him. Months of writing, planning your short visit, tell you what to expect from some of his students. You tried to keep an open mind, but as you survey the room from your standing point, you find mirrors of what you’ve seen before. 

He chuckles, and you nod to the enforcers that stand beside the doors. They barely glance your way, all zoned in your own worlds as they try to stay awake. 

“Tell me,” you muse, “anything promising?”

“That all depends on what you’re looking for,” he smiles, “the entries this year are very promising, I should add.”

Finally making your way into the building, you start down one of the rows, briefly reading off the small cards that line the table. It was intriguing, seeing what the human mind can create. Each one was different, promising innovation and change for the ones who needed it the most. Some were simple, a new irrigation method, a new tool to help with surgery. Others were more intricate, a way to heal broken bones faster, a way to grow taller or thinner in a matter of days. 

Heimerdinger continued to talk at your side, keeping with your slow pace. His voice was bright and joyous, a singing tone that contrasted to yours. He spoke enough for the both of you, and as time passed you’d grown accustomed to his hyperactive personality. Always easy to pick out of the crowd, various voices meshing together in one large mass that you tried to ignore. 

“The last time I was here,” you break the silence, glancing down at bright blue eyes, “you told me I’d be impressed with the entries.”

He pauses, looking at you with narrowed eyes and a twitching lip, “I was correct then, just as I am correct now-”

“Eh,” you wince, scrunching your face up and rocking a hand side to side, “I’d say-”

He cuts you off, speaking over you, it makes you laugh. Holding your hands in surrender at his stern tone, “New minds bring new innovations, different outlooks that we haven’t thought of. It’s brilliant, what the mind can do without restrictions.”

Stopping at the end of the table, you reach out to grab a small device, painted an array of blues and pinks that resemble a chomping shark. On the side was a pin, your thumb brushing over it, nodding your head once and setting it back down. Next to it was a small card, the dimensions, components, and its purpose all messily written.

“Brilliant. Yet, the council never seizes what can excel the cities.”

Heimerdinger huffs, “Many trials can take years to complete, and other items do not get chosen.”

Humming, you choose not to argue. It was something that would always come up between you both. With him on the council, you liked to poke fun. Liked to make jabbing remarks that would cause his fur to bristle, his foot to stomp. He didn’t pick up on it until years later, and stopped indulging your antics. Tonight, you suppose he forgot. The excitement of young minds filled the air, cheerful laughter and jittering tones that spoke too fast. 

The back of the crowd was already making their way into the main ballroom, where all inventors and potential patrons would speak of partnerships and opportunities. Sometimes you wouldn’t even make it to that room, instead heading home after surveying the array of inventions. 

“Has the ranking already been released?” You ask, turning down another aisle. Boots tapping against the tiled floor, you brush down the front of your jacket before continuing. Most things mirrored each other, mostly the same except for a slight difference. It makes you smile, seeing the small things added. A simple touch of a difference that brought out the mind of the inventor. A different paint, a different metal, a different bolt or screw. It was all intentional to them, all things different that make them human. 

“Ah! Indeed! Announced just before your arrival-” He jumps, reaching into his jacket to bring out a piece of paper. It was pristine, decorated with gold and black ink. He handed it to you with a smile, and you looked over it with a raised eyebrow. From left to right, was the ranking, name, age, and small description of each entry. In tiny numbers besides that, was where each person could be found. You briefly look over each description, coming up empty handed on what you were interested in. 

Fourth Place, Ekko ---, 13, ---

Third Place, Powder ---- , 12, ---

Second Place, Jayce ---, 23, ---

First Place, Viktor ---, 24, ---

Your step falters, hand quickly grabbing the edge of the table beside you to right yourself, and you glare at the bolt that slides across the floor. It was a gear, its notches broken and chipped. Heimerdinger hums a light tune under his breath, continuing on his way. He didn’t see you almost fall, didn’t see your eyes narrow and glare at the page in hand before cursing under your breath.

 Shivering, you tilt your head to the side and turn the paper over. The back was filled with an array of the named Patrons, Investors, Mages, anyone who could take a beneficiary. 

In italicised gold ink, was your name.  

Frowning, you glare at Heimerdinger, who continued to make his way to the main room. Perhaps he thought only two rows was enough to look at, he knew what you were here for, after all. 

“I’m done here,” you grumble, turning to leave before Heimerdinger shouts your name, walking quickly down the aisle to meet you once more. Gaze stern, he regards you with a frown, “you just got here, I refuse to let you leave.”

“That’s called kidnapping,” you scoff, trying to walk past, but the Yordle stands in your way. 

“You’re hardly a child, yet with the way you’re acting right now- I can hardly tell the difference.”

You fake a gasp, placing your free hand onto your chest. 

“Heimerdinger, you insult me.”

He ignores you, “you must meet some of the candidates before you leave, who knows- you might find who you’re looking for!”

Sighing deeply, you refuse to look at him, instead turning back around and to stare at the open doors that await you on the other side of the room. You could faintly hear the music that floods through, glasses clinking together as connections are made.

Dropping onto your haunches, you feel your jacket fold behind your knees, puddling around you. His eyes briefly widen, before his hands rest on his hips, beginning to tap against the tiles. 

Holding out the paper, you tap the front, finger brushing along the parchment right next to each name. 

“See these? The names, small descriptions of what they’ve brought?” His eyes flicker, and you can see the gears turning, before he sighs.

“I do, my dear.”

“What is here that will thrive under my apprenticeship?” Heimerdinger's eyebrows relax, the fur atop his lip drooping slightly. He seems to fully deflate for a moment, and then a spark ignites, and he's set alight with a new vigor. 

“If you give a plant no water, will it grow? If you simply look at an unfinished project, how will it come to fruition? You must work for it,” your name is softly spoken, a hand gently placed onto yours. 

“Ha,” you laugh, sarcastic, shaking your head and dropping your arms to rest on bent knees. 

“If I wanted to water a plant, I wouldn’t be here.”

Sighing, he steps closer to grab your free hand once more, his other coming to gently pat the top. 

He was so kind, so gentle with the people around him. All bright colors and curious nature, a mirror to you. Dark colors, disinterested eyes and almost permanent frown.

“Each human is different from the next, you simply have to talk to them. Gage what they want to pursue, and go from there. You’ll find what you’re looking for faster that way, you know.”

Grumbling, you throw him a glare. Standing, you brush off the front of your pants, and turn towards the room once more. Some of the attendees regarded you with curious looks, whispering to their partner while making room for you and Heimerdinger. Others stared with wide eyes, clutching their drink to their chest. 

The room itself was beautiful, an open space once used to present statues and large art pieces. They were moved away, replaced with small tables full of small, bite sized, foods and flutes of champagne. Large windows covered the wall to your right, letting in the sun. Thick, red velvet curtains framed them, golden tassels holding the fabric open. Some were cracked, letting in the clean city air. 

There was a brief moment you hoped you wouldn’t be recognized, but your attire and companion gave you away entirely. 

Piltover was the city of progress, its people dressing as such. With bright colors of gold and white, displaying their house sigils proudly on their own attire, all sparkling and proudly presenting themselves. You didn’t have a house here, didn’t have a name, you didn’t wear Piltover's colors. Keeping your gaze forwards, you try to ignore their intrusive gazes. 

The room itself was chilly, and you reached to pull your jacket tighter around you. It was a deep blue, silver threading and embellishments decorating the front and back. It reached down to your boots, the material slightly billowing behind you as you walked. 

You make your way to the edge of the room, and politely smile at a few young faces who continue to stare. Wearing the academy uniform, you wonder if Heimerdinger would recognize them, but the student body was much too vast now to remember each new face. They each blush, quickly turning back to whoever they were talking to while walking away. Soon, it was only you and Heimerdinger, who continued to smile like nothing was wrong. 

“Why are they looking at me like that?” You ask softly, hands clasping behind your back, paper still in hand. 

Heimerdinger chuckles, “you’re rarely seen in the city, and you wonder why everyone is so curious?”

“I hate being a spectacle,” grumbling, you turn to look at anything else. Trying to ignore the lingering gazes, the whispers that include your name. 

“Maybe,” he gasps, “you should visit more! Oh, now wouldn’t that just be lovely?”

Scowling, you glare, shifting your stance to hiss under your breath, “oh, you’d like that wouldn't you? You little demon.”

He laughs to himself, waving you off, “you just might come to adore the city the longer you frequent. The City of Progress is ever changing, my dear.”

Ignoring him, you try and make out the faces from one another. Some councilors were present, all with a champagne flute in hand as they talked to academy students, other investors, even potential partners that could benefit for their own gain.

One boy, though, all smiling and bright eyed, continued to talk with a small group of students. The one who caught your eye, though, wore the silver medal of second place around his neck. He had a small device in hand, twisting and maneuvering it around to explain to the others how it functioned. Dark hair pushed back haphazardly, tan skin that seemed to glow under the light, he was a handsome young man. 

“What of Jayce-“ you squint, “Jayce Talis?”

Heimerdinger makes a questioning sound, following your line of sight before whistling, the end trailing off, “The beneficiary of House Kiramman, I’m afraid.”

“Hm, not swayable, then?”

He only waves you off, “he seems to be prospering under their care- what of Ekko and Powder?” he’s pointing to a young duo opposite Jayces' group. Sitting at one of the small tables, drinks untouched. They were consumed in a hushed conversation, both staring inquisitively down at an open notebook. Short blue hair stopping just under her shoulders, the young girl bites at her nails. The dress she wore was violet, flowing just past her knees. It matched the pink stripe in her hair perfectly. 

The boy, though, was in an academy uniform, white hair pulled away from his face. Dark skin, kind eyes, his leg tapping anxiously. 

“Ekko and Powder?” You parrot, and Heimerdinger makes a noise in the back of his throat. 

“Best not to separate them,” he stops short, quickly recovering “They work well in tandem, bouncing off each other as if they were small balls of energy. You’d find most progress with both.”

That wouldn’t do; you sigh. Looking back to Jayce’s group, you briefly meet his eyes. A bright hazel that shimmered with energy. He falters in what he was saying, eyes darting between you and Heimerdinger before he frantically looks back to one of his friends. Sighing, you kiss along your teeth. There was no shaking the eyes you would spot in the crowd, clinging to you. They would quickly disappear, blushing and whispering. This part, you hated the most. All the people, staring and whispering. It made you feel small, scrutinized under them. Were some of them judging you for arriving late? Were they wondering when you’d accept a new apprentice? Closing your eyes, you try to level yourself. It wouldn’t do you any good to drag yourself through turmoil. 

“You mentioned a number of them requested an audience?”

“Ah!” he jumps, clapping his hands once, before scurrying away and into the crowd.

You tried to keep yourself steady as student after student was brought to you. Some were smiling, blushing as they offered you their hand politely. The conversations were dragging, them speaking of their ambitions and dreams before being silenced by your raised hand. Some would grow teary, words dying off like the light in their eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you’d smile, a sympathetic tone wrapping your rejection, “Your ambitions, although bright, do not align with what I’m looking for.”

Some took it better than others, shaking your hand once before departing with disappointed faces and sagging shoulders. Heimerdinger would throw you a glare, ask what was wrong with them, if you were doing it just for spite. Each time, you’d shrug, “they cannot give me what I need, Heimerdinger.”

One girl was promising, Sky Young. She dazzled you with her beauty, crossing her arms and smiling brightly. She had freckles that covered her full cheeks when she spoke, glasses that reflected a dreary image of you. Life danced across her face with each word she spoke, a desire to discover, to create. She offered to show you her ideas, what she had brought as her entry. Her smile didn’t falter when you declined, and for once, you could feel hope dance its way between your ribs. 

Until she mentioned her schooling, and how she’d want to continue innovating and creating. 

With a heavy heart, you reluctantly rejected her. She took it respectfully, dipping her head. 

“I have one more idea, although he did not request an audience,” he sighed, before he departed once more. For, hopefully, the final time tonight. 

Towards the two hour mark, you find yourself standing with your eyes closed, listening to your own breathing and the chatter of conversation around you. The windows had been closed, the sun shining directly through and casting shadows of people along the floor. The music was a repeat of around ten songs, you discovered, and on the seventh song you heard Heimerdinger approaching, the distinctive tapping of a cane following. 

My dear!” Heimerdinger sings, stopping to stand between you both. Smiling forcefully, you ignore the onsetting headache as you look over the man in front of you. Loose pants on long slender legs, a vest that clung to a lithe waist. Fingers that gripped a golden medal, and the pommel of a cane. The ladder made your skin prickle. 

Eyes scanning higher, gliding over the grey tie that fits his throat, brown hair that almost curls around his ears, and dazzling honey gold eyes that stare back at you with unwavering certainty. Shoulders relaxed, the man seemed to be studying you as well. 

“This is Viktor-“ drowning out his voice, you bite down on your tongue. Heat builds across your back, sharp claws digging into your skin to drag its way over your shoulders. Fatigue deep within your bones, you clasp your hands behind your back. 

“A pleasure, truly. Madam?” He smiles, it doesn't reach his eyes. 

Speaking your name plainly, you tilt your head, eyes narrowed, “congratulations on first place. I don’t remember seeing you in attendance last time I was here, are you a new student?”

“Viktor has been my assistant for some time, working under my watchful eye while he completes his studies. Though, he’s one of my top students!”

A hum, and you decide to look at anything but the man in front of you. Stomach turning, you wished for a drink. No doubt, if you could drink the bubbling champagne, you would’ve had five glasses by now. Your head moves towards the windows and when your eyes catch the light, Viktor catches a flash of red tint. He almost shivers, smile wavering and as quickly as you look away, you’re back to watching him intently. 

“Your patron must be proud, working under Heimerdinger personally.”

He waves you off, and Heimerdinger gives you a curious look, gloved hands clasping in front of him, “Viktor has no patron, dear friend.”

Eyebrows rising, you look back at the younger, who was glancing at the painting behind you. Pushing the wings of your coat open, you slide your cold hands into your pockets, paper still in hand. It was folded, now hidden away. You skim your finger over one of four points, pressing it into the pad of your index before retreating.

 “You’ve no patron? Can I ask why?”

It was a first, seeing someone so young without the guidance of a Patron. Every one you had met, were almost all students. They each were vying for one, asking for guidance to help with their research. Viktor, though, had seemingly made it far enough by himself. 

Hands boxing his vest, he only shrugs, “Eh,” he hums, “I find it more fulfilling to work by myself. I simply assist the professor with miniscule tasks when needed.”

You wince, “I apologize on his behalf, then.”

“You insult me! Viktor works diligently and without complaint, thank you,” Heimerdinger gasps, crossing his arms. 

The pair of you chuckle, and before you stop yourself, you find a smile curling around your features, “I commend you, I can barely stay around him for too long before i get a headache.”

“Have you known the Professor long? You speak as if you’re close?”

Your smile falls, and Viktor wonders if he’s spoken out of line. A melancholy look floods your features, and you look to Heimerdinger, “I’ve known him almost my whole life. He’s been a close confidant to me in my times of need, surely as his assistant, you can agree?”

“I can, his guidance has helped me with my personal work.”

“Any success?” You can feel the answer already swelling between you both, and with a disappointed shake of his head, Viktor tenses his shoulders, “Only on paper, the council deems experimentation ‘too soon’”

A small bout of anger pools in your chest, such a brilliant mind, condemned to a rigorous routine of theory after theory, faux solution; one after the other to show a group of councillors, not even proficient in the field of study, what they deem to be ‘safe’. How has such a promising city made so much progress, if minds such as his were forced to sit patiently?

“Isn’t the city of progress supposed to encourage, I don’t know- progress?” Rolling your shoulders back, you give Heimerdinger a pointed look.

“Safety must always come first, dear friend! Not everyone can go into their back yard and ignite an explosion.” He shoots an equally devious expression your way. Viktor clears his throat, shooting Heimerdinger a warning glance. You smirk, and with a tilt of your head you ask teasingly, “have you blown something up, Viktor?”

“My work can sometimes cause an unwanted chain reaction, It’s not as if I want to cause an explosion.”

“‘Sometimes’? Do you regularly almost blow up buildings? What does your work entail for you, hm?”

Cheeks burning, Viktor avoids your eyes, silently cursing the professor for bringing up the select few times an experiment went awry. 

“I want to help the people who need it most, and end the suffering of the common person. My work includes basic machines and tools that could make everyday life more simple, like mine-workers. Why let outdated, faulty machines cause more suffering, when something more reliable and simple can help?”

You're smiling, looking down quickly to slide the toe of your boot across the tiles. It's brief, but it allows you to gather your thoughts, “that’s certainly an ambition.”

“Reminds me of someone, no?” Heimerdinger nudges your leg, and you wave him away. Viktor’s eyes roam your features, “You’re also a scientist?”

“I… used to be, when I was young. Now, I simply provide the necessary equipment for the work to continue. Of course, I oversee it, but I refrain from interfering.” Sliding your hands from your pockets, you flip the now crumpled piece of paper through your fingers. 

“Her apprentices thrive, my boy. You should see the work others have accomplished with the tools she offers!.”

“An apprenticeship?” Viktor looked slightly confused, nose scrunching as he shifted his footing to settle more comfortably. Silent, you nod. Knowingly, you refrained from saying anything else. Your neck was starting to hurt, back aching from standing in one place for so long. 

You could have walked around, mingled with others. Yet, what good would it do? Talking with polite faces that would only speak willfully of you behind your back, fake laughter and fake bonding that would, truly, get you nowhere in this society.

You’d much rather suffer the consequences of stagnation when Viktor looked at you with unhidden emotion. He didn’t try to cover them up with indifference. He bares his emotions without vulnerability, how his eyes narrow and eyebrows furrow, how his nose scrunches in annoyance, how his lips tilt in barely-hidden amusement. You can see it all flicker across his face, moments in time captured by another person’s eyes. It's familiar, you realize, how simple humans truly could be. 

“Mm,” you scrunch your face, not liking the term so carelessly thrown around, “I call it a beneficial agreement.”

“Have you found any success?” Viktor retorts, smiling softly at the way you soften in disappointment. Much like his own, you yearn for a solution.

“I have not, my previous apprentice made great advances in his research. He had a great mind, I wish to find one similar.”

Your friend, though, deemed it a perfect time to raise his own voice, “Would something like that interest you, my boy? I theorize your research would thrive much more with her, rather than me.”

Ice water, poured directly over your head.

“Heimerdinger-“

“Professor-“

Honey gold meets yours, and you promptly raise a hand. It’s familiar how you both regard each other. Too comfortable, you were the one who had to cut it here. 

“While I appreciate the gesture,” a warning issued within the group, blaring red, “I cannot find it within myself to consider someone who isn’t interested in the slightest.”

Viktor bites his cheek. Was he interested? He was secure with his position as Heimerdinger's assistant, yet the idea of being able to thrive in his field without watchful eyes sounded very appealing. Even Heimerdinger himself seemed thrilled at the idea of such a position for him. 

“Who said I wasn’t interested?”

Kissing your teeth, taking a small step backwards, hand settling itself back at your side. 

“Even if you were, I’d have to politely decline.”

Viktor, for once, finds himself at a loss for words. It’s like you’ve completely changed within the second Heimerdinger mentioned the possibility of him working under you.

“Decline? Miss,“ Heimerdinger steps closer, but you send a glare his way. It doesn’t hinder his stubbornness, “Viktor is more than qualified to take on the responsibility!”

“He isn’t-“ you stop short, head tilting as you look him over; Mulling over words that could express how against this you truly were. You look at his shoes, his cane, his chest, and finally his eyes. Curious and inviting, so alive with ambition and determination. 

“He isn’t the right fit.”

Heimerdinger almost laughs, “Right fit? Viktor is my assistant, he has enough determination and willpower to climb the ranks of Piltover! Where others would falter, Viktor thrives. Even with his first time attending, the boy has won first place!”

A sense of pride, Viktor smiles, but your huff of annoyance at the statement makes the emotion fade.

“You’re correct, He’s the assistant to the dean of the academy, doing just fine for himself, as you say.”

“He could be much more, and you know this just as well as I do.”

The beginning of an argument is swelling, both Heimerdinger and you sharing glares and scowls. You’ve taken to crossing your arms, all but ignoring Viktor to turn your attention to the Yordle. Top lip twitching, Heimerdinger almost stomps his foot, “must you make things so difficult?”

You laugh, hands rubbing harshly at your eyes, sarcastically smiling, “first place doesn’t really mean anything, his ambition is too straight forward-”

“My ambition has gotten me this far, miss. If I was willing, I could get farther.”

“So you agree?” gaze narrow, you turn to him with sternness, “you choose to stay stagnant in your current position?”

It's his turn to flare with annoyance, and his eyebrows furrow, “No, I choose to benefit from my current position.”

“The boy is learning, absorbing the information that he gets his hands on. Working under you, he would be exposed to a plethora of material- he would rise higher than he ever could working under me.”

You raise a hand, and suddenly Heimerdinger breathes a heavy sigh, “Viktor, you have a brilliant mind, and a unique outlook. Yet, you do not fit the qualification I’ve set for the position.”

“My dear-” you pointedly glared, and he fell silent, “I wish you the best of luck in your research, now if you’ll excuse me gentleman, I have overstayed my welcome.”

Ignoring the calls of your name, you make your way back to the front of the building. Someone tries to step in your path, but with a tilt of your shoulder you easily slide past them, shortly turning them down with a not-so-pleasant glare. 

You had lost yourself in how easy-going it was to converse with Viktor, almost forgetting why you were there in the first place. In reality, he was the most promising individual you’ve come across. Yet, you couldn’t find it within yourself to take him from the place he thrives most. He wanted to change the city for the better, pursuing actual innovation. How could Heimerdinger cast upon you the decision to ask him to leave his home? To cast aside his well earned position?

Your carriage was still waiting patiently among the others. The sun was starting to set, casting golden rays through the trees that lined the street. There was a man on stilts slowly walking down the street, lighting the lamps that stood tall.  The footman smiles when seeing you, opening the door and offering you his hand. 

Settling yourself down in the uncomfortable seating, you look over the paper, crumpled and folded one to many times. The edges were worn with your fiddling, and slowly you unfold it to look over the seemingly never ending list of names. 

First place, Viktor ��-

There's a small sliding door that sits between you and the coachman, a little bigger than the size of your hand. Silver hinges with small ornate detailing, and a matching silver latch that swung side to side during the bumpy rides. It slides open smoothly, green eyes and white bushy eyebrows gaze back with a softness akin to a grandfather.

“Where to, my lady?”

Clearing your throat, swallowing thickly, you toss the paper onto the seat beside you. Relaxing, you breathe deeply and take one final look at the museum, “take me home.”

“As you wish, my lady”

------

Your home was large enough to house a great family, yet only you remained. The halls were dark, two wings once occupied with life. Now, only a few rooms from each were used. The library was full of unread books, your laboratory untouched by your hands for years. Your office was where you mainly resided. In front of the windows that climbed up to your ceiling, filling the room with dimmed light that cascaded over the misty hills. The estate's walls were cold, its occupants bundling with layers to defend themselves from sickness. You’ve grown used to it, but your staff still wandered around with pink noses and thick shawls. 

One member of the staff, Miss Aleena, was one of the few who remained. Her grey eyes regarded you with warmth, wrinkles and tired smile showing her years. She was slower, yet still refused to rest. She continued with her work day after day, and sometimes kept you company during her downtime. She made her way around your office easily, stepping over thrown books and crumpled pieces of paper. All to set a wine glass on your desk, though what filled it was not wine. 

“Three animals today, my lady. Deer, fox, or rabbit?”

You hum, still gazing at the rolling hills. The glass was held together with silver framing, a thick set of curtains hanging from the ceiling and pooling on the carpeted floor. Holding out your hand, you wait until she picks the glass back up to set it into your hand. The surface was painted with flowers, all faded. You lift it to your nose, sniffing once before grimacing. 

“Rabbit.”

She chuckles, reaching out to tap your cheek. You almost wave her away, but these were moments you rarely receive. To have another person touch you, human warmth was like no other. 

Spinning in your chair, you set the glass back down and slouch, rubbing harshly at your eyes. Miss Aleena makes her way to the chair that sits in front of your desk, slowly descending with a huff. She doesn’t say anything, rarely does. Instead, she lets you fill the silence with whatever words you want. Her hair, salt and pepper, was pulled back from her slim face. Grey eyes comforting as they watch you, never judging. 

“I’m not thirsty.”

You were lying, of course. The churning of your stomach was the dead give away, and she raises an eyebrow at you in retort. Slowly, you reach out to grab the glass once more, raising it to take a small sip. 

Blood tastes different with each animal. Rabbit, for example, was sweeter than deer, yet more tart than fox. It starts as a treat, warm and inviting, until you swallow and are greeted with the kick at the end. Wincing, you groan. Shivering at the taste, you take another small drink. It was never good to drink too much at a time, you’ve learned the hard way. 

“I don’t know why the gods forsake me,” you grumble, “I ask for a simple thing. One thing, yet time and time again I’m rejected and turned away. Something is always blocking this path, and for whatever reason, I cannot get past it.”

“Maybe it’s something you shouldn't pursue,” her timid voice responds, and you shake your head. Center of your lips stained red, you cross your legs. 

“Do you know what it's like to live for 800 years?”

She smiles, “I know what it’s like for 73.”

“Its a living torture,” you smirk, and she hums. “I cannot sleep, cannot eat or drink what you do. I cannot fall in love, I cannot feel happiness-”

“And why is that, my lady?”

You huff, chest squeezing, “it is a fleeting thing, happiness, love. A human can love their entire life, and feel fulfilled by the end. Humans have the pleasure of an ending, while I live in a purgatory specifically designed for me. No matter how hard I try, I simply cannot die.”

You take another drink, looking over the small pile of papers still left on your desk. Requests and letters signed with black ink mock you, the dates in the top corners taunting. 

“Tell me, then,” she requests, “when you’ve fallen in love.”

The question makes your shoulders tense, flashes of memories blinking past your eyes. Years upon years of memories, yet they all boil down to moments in your life. 

“I-” you clear your throat, “I can’t remember what love feels like. I suppose feelings fade with time,” you look down into your glass, your reflection staring back. 

Miss Aleena sighs, “my dear, I may not be as old as you, but I am still old. I know what love looks like,” she stands from her chair, brushing off the front of her dress. 

“Indulge me, what does it look like?”

“It looked like that gleam in your eyes, my lady.”

Head tilting, you watch a smile creep across her face. Chuckling, you rub your thumb along the top of your hand, cold as always. Miss Aleena reached out, gesturing to your almost empty cup, “would you like a refill?”

You shake your head, and watch as she turns to make your way back to the door. Spinning, you turn your gaze back to the misty hills, how the sun tries to break through, and tries to wrap a golden blanket around the trees that border your land. 

“Maybe I should just have you find me someone.”

Miss Aileena laughed, old and tired, she sounded like her mother, “I think that’s a terrible idea.”

“How so? You’re a great observer, and you follow my instructions without retort!” 

“I don’t know much about science, my lady. If I were to bring someone in, you would find something inadequate.”

She was right, and you knew it. 

The door opens, and a male voice clears his throat. You almost groan, instead you rest your elbow on the arm of your chair, supporting your head on a clenched fist. 

“My lady?” It was Benedict, who’s voice matched his appearance. Silky and smooth, all fine cursive lines that dance across his body. You can hear his smile as he looks at Miss Aleena.

“Ah, hello nana,” he says softly, before the door creaks and he coughs. 

“What is it, Benedict?” Nails tapping, your head rolls to rest against the chair. His body straightens, green eyes roaming over your desk. His cheeks were pink, and he sniffled before speaking.

“You have a visitor- I told him you didn’t take guests, but he was very adamant on seeing you.”

Your tongue lightly grazes your canines, feeling the sharp points. You can barely remember the last time you used them, opting for your kitchen to hunt and gather your drinks. 

They, your hunter, would leave in the morning when the dew still clung to the grass. They’d gather enough animals to last the following week, put them in the freezer, and then go back to their home in the village. Of course, you offered housing here, but it only took them one look at the vine covered rocks to politely decline. 

“How adamant?” You tease, hearing Benedict huff, his clothes rustling.

“He said he wouldn’t leave until he had an audience with you.”

“Hm,” you muse, using your foot to sway the chair back and forth slightly. 

“Let him in, then”

Benedict nods, shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes as he backs from the room, heavy steps receding down the hallway. Miss Aileen’s heels click across the wood as she crosses the room, picking books up from the floor and setting them gently back onto your desk. 

It takes a moment, but soon you can hear the incoming tap of a cane, and the hushed voices from beyond your closed door. 

Hair raising, you refuse to turn in your chair as the door opens once more. Tensing, you can feel your chest clench until his voice tears through the room- assertive and commanding. 

“You have to have a certain kind of nerve to accuse me of not being qualified enough to work under you.”

Your hand drops from your chin, hanging over the arm. Finger running across the tips of your nails, you refrain from sighing.

“What are you doing here, Viktor?”

“I simply find it unacceptable to push me aside and call me unqualified to work under you simply because of my status and ability to do what is required,” his tone is accusatory, anger surrounding him. Slowly, you find your eyebrows furrowing. Your head drops to the side, and you look at him from over your shoulder, chair slightly turned as to not hurt your neck. 

His cheeks are flushed, eyebrows pinched together in anger as he leans against his cane. Miss Aileen stands to the side, eyes wide as she looks at him. His golden eyes falter when they meet yours, flickering between your dazzling gaze. When you turn the chair more, the sun that barely peaks through the clouds catches them, red shining through briefly. 

It makes him shiver, how predatory your gaze was. 

“Miss Aileen, please give us the room,” you don’t break eye contact, instead turning the chair so you face him fully. It gives him the charm to look you over, from your relaxed attire to the red tint that stains your lips. 

Makeup? No, he thinks, your attire betrays the need for makeup. You were home, relaxed enough to not find the need for it. Eyes flicker to the desk, landing on the almost empty glass. 

Ah, the wine. 

“Say again?”

He huffs, feeling that anger flare in his stomach and he stands tall once more, why was he here? He didn’t quite know, following that gut instinct to follow you and prove that he was right for the role he still knew nothing about. 

 “I have worked too hard to get where I am today to simply be pushed aside due to prejudice from a person whom I’ve never even met-“

“You think prejudice is the reason for my rejection?” There’s a flicker of disappointment, a sadness that festers behind it. You sigh, rubbing at your eyes before sitting up in your chair, “Viktor, listen,” your voice is softer this time, sharp edge dulled. 

“You want to create things, bring goodness to the world. My task is the complete opposite-“

“How can you come to that conclusion when you haven’t even asked me for my opinion on the matter? For a scientist, you come to conclusions rather abruptly.”

Shoulders sagging, you reach out and grasp your wine glass, the thick liquid-

Thick liquid?

Viktor watches as you take a sip, the sides of the glass stained a deep ruby red as it settles back at the bottom. It’s crimson, shining in the light and the true answer to what sits in the glass whispers itself in his ear softly. 

“Is that blood?”

You smile, a sad tilt of lips, raising the glass in a congratulation before setting it back down. You push yourself from the chair, silk gown dancing around you like a breeze, it makes it seem like you are floating, gliding your way around the desk to lean against it. 

“If it is? What would you do, Viktor?”

His breath catches in his throat, and he mulls over what he could possibly say. 

“If I told you, my life goes against the natural order, would you believe me?”

Your hands brace behind you, feet crossing at the ankles as you regard him with a glint in your eyes. You're assessing him. Watching as his eyes flicker around you, watch as he tenses, jaw clenching. Watch as his hand grips the pommel of his cane just a little tighter, how he leans away from you. 

“Since you think yourself qualified, I’ll give you my symptoms and you come up with a theory as to what I am cursed with,” you spit the words. Viktor finds himself nodding, going against his own natural order as you push away from the desk. Making your way to the tall book shelf that lined the walls, your fingers skin across the fabric spines of book after book. Shoes muted by the carpet, you move silently. 

“I cannot sleep, I cannot get sick, from what you’ve just noticed; I drink blood.” Slowing, you curl your finger around the top of a book, pulling it gently from its place. It was almost fully black, silver edging flaking off. A red piece of ribbon, frayed at the end, was hanging from the top edge. A book mark ready for use, he guessed. 

“I live longer than normal humans, and I cannot die.”

Silence, and you refrain from moving from the wall of books. You seem to fit in perfectly, a timeless beauty. Yet, as he looks away to gaze back at the cup of blood, he sighs. 

“Common, Viktor,” you whisper, teasing, “you were so vocal earlier. What happened?”

“I shouldn’t have come here,” he murmurs, taking a step back because now you’re right in front of him. Holding that book out for him to take, “no, you shouldn’t have. Now, you have to face the consequences of your own pride.”

Hesitant, he takes the book, looking over the cover and when he registers the words sewn into the fabric he almost laughs.

“A vampire?”

“Mm,” you hum, crossing your arms as you make your way back to your desk, leaning back. He tilts the book, letting it fall open to a random page. He briefly reads over it, pictures hand drawn, cursive words in a foreign language underneath. The paper was tinged yellow, wrinkled on the edges like it’d been thrown into a bath of water and then dried again. 

“An immortal scientist passing down knowledge through their apprentices, what an ambition,” he mocks your words, snapping the book shut and looking back up. You’re frowning, and after turning your upper body to grab the glass, you twist it to allow the little remaining liquid to coat the sides. Faded blue flowers in front of a wave of blood, you don't look at him anymore, shoulders slumped. 

“I don’t teach them, I simply have a task for them to complete. In return, they’re given access to my abundance of gathered knowledge.”

“And what is this task I’m so unqualified for, exactly?”

“Viktor,” you sigh, eyes closing. He can feel his chest squeeze, and he breathes deeply before continuing, “how do you know I’m unwilling to help you?”

“Help me? Viktor, if you had the opportunity to create death, would you?”

“Death?” His eyebrows furrow, and when you nod he can slowly see the pieces falling into place. The book feels heavy in hand, his thumb gently rubbing across the indented words that title the front. 

The Known Ways Of Vanquishing A Vampire

“I want to die, and I cannot touch the tools that will create it. I need someone to do it for me, so I’ll ask again; if you had the opportunity to create death, would you?”

His brain tells him to decline. His whole life, he’s sworn to help people survive. To bring them longer life, to cure them of the hindrance that plagues them. Yet, his gut urges him to look at you. To see what you truly looked like, he can see your fatigue. He can see how your shoulders slouch, how slow you really move. To others, you were a monster. A demon who comes at night to drink their bodies dry. To him, in the moment, he simply saw a woman cursed. Forever to wander, never to truly rest. 

“Are you suffering?” His voice is quiet. Lips lifting, you nod once, “yes, Viktor.”

Fingers tapping once against his cane, his gut overrides his brain, and he speaks his decision into the air with a stern voice. 

“Then I will help you.” 

Although there’s hesitation clinging to you, you speak with a soft voice, “let’s get started then, shall we?”

Want to be tagged? comment or send a message! ill gladly tag you <3

[blackwoodwinter]

A drawing

Boom that’s it …

[biblicallyaccuratefangirl]

✤ Asra headcanons: walking in on you changing ✤ (revised)

Absolutely mortified. Yk the horrified blushing face he makes. That's the one

Leaves IMMEDIATELY, might slam the door on accident

After some silence he'll quietly knock on the door and apologize from outside

"I'm so sorry (y/n), I didn't at all mean to invade your privacy... Are— are you alright?"

He's terrified he's lost some of the trust you have in him or that you'll feel less comfortable around him now. To him, the best thing he can be is a safe space for you

Assuming you give him some sort of reassurance from the other side of the door, he'll feel sufficiently excused

If there's one thing Asra can't cope with it's awkward situations. He'll try hard to distance himself from the guilt and discomfort

In fact, he'll leave the shop entirely: grab the basic necessities like his bag, and find a way to busy himself

He'll return a while later, an hour or two, and come inside quietly. Without making himself known, he'll leave a small bouquet of wildflowers bound together at the foot of your door

When you find it and come out to greet him, he'll be eager to see you but treads lightly while he tries to gauge your reaction

Reassured to see you relaxed, he murmurs one more apology, holding your hands in his

"I am sorry, my love." He presses a kiss to the back of your hand. "What sorry fate awaits me for my transgressions?"

He's happy to be at your disposal, should you play along. Either way, he spends the rest of the evening pampering you <3

[barnesnatts]

Sebastian Stan at the Fourth Annual Academy Museum Gala