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revelisms · 9 months

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A few Arcane HCs I haven't quite gotten to in my fics, but have been running in the background while I'm writing:

Jinx's and Vi's dad was an inventor: clever as a fox, boisterous and sly, smoker's gravel on his words. He sang when he drank, and he got angry: at himself, at the ceaseless cycle of working the mines, at a world he felt trapped in. He did his best, though. He was loving and kind, always driving ahead: vowing to make promises the world wouldn't let him keep. Powder (Bluebird, he'd call her) was his little girl. They'd tinker together when she was very young. She doesn't remember him much, but she misses him. Mirrored against Vi, against Vander, against Silco, is always Papa.

Jinx has her own routines with Dustin, Ran and Lock. When she first came into their crime posse, the three of them held her at arm's length, skittish at venturing too close to the boss's ward. Slowly, though, they all took her under their wings. Dustin taught her how to throw knives, and how to dance—not gracefully, of course, but lively, freed, fun. Ran taught her how to sharpshoot, and how to cook steamed sweet-doughs with her favorite fruits. Lock taught her how to throw a punch, and how to strum a folk-fiddle pretty enough to make it sing. She's closest to Dustin. He doesn't talk much, not sincerely, but there's a lot they can relate to. If she ever needs someone to sit with, he's her second-choice. They'll sit at the bar together, prattling over their music and painting designs on their nails.

Silco has tattoos—several, in fact. Most are hidden beneath his clothes. Jinx and Sevika both have caught glimpses, when his sleeves are rolled up. On his left arm is a leviathan that cords its finned tail from the inside of his elbow to a set of gaping jaws over his shoulder. A painter's dozen litter his back: patterned motifs, a sweeping snake of sea-kelp, death's-head moths split by glistened daggers, a devilish star. Hidden on the underside of his right arm is a sliver of ink: a bleeding eye caged between fanged teeth. Most others have been smattered with scars, over the years: bullet wounds, knife slashes, shrapnel.

Sevika occupies a rare state of limbo among their crew. She's seen flavors of vulnerability Silco has bared to no other, and has laid down her shields, in turn. One would be unwise to call them lovers—their tastes in all things, down to preferred partners, skews polar opposite. But they have weathered similar hells, and know how to navigate them. Silco knows that she will cry when her rage burns out, and only then: a Vesuvius that takes years to boil up and over. Sevika knows that dragging a hand over Silco's nape, palming slowly into the dark quills of his hair, will make him jitter on his feet: a conflated snap-reaction of hackles raised and walls crumbled. They have shared meals, baths, beds—and, on few occasions, rooms at the brothels—but they are a partnership that leans towards wedded servitude before it ever greets affection. Still, they are intrigued by each other. A mutual curiosity at the layers that unfold, if one only dares to look beneath them.

Vi sees herself first as Powder's sister; Jinx saw Vi first as her own mother. Their relationship has been weighted by this ever since the bridge went up in flames. Vi remembers their mother vividly: how she hummed folksongs when she worked, made them warm stews and stitched their clothes with bright thread; Jinx remembers only a shadow, a lovely voice, and Vi's hands—hands that had Papa's anger, that smashed things and threw them far, far away, kicked and shoved and roared, fizzled out to quiet, frustrated apologies. The cannery fire wasn't the first time Vi had let her anger get the best of her, but it was the most explosive. She's held the shame of it with her, her whole life—and it's a fear Jinx has never been able to detach from.

Despite this, Jinx is touch-first and speak-second. She was always a tactile child—even more-so, after everything. Ironic, then, that she's so often sewn at the hip to a man who's, on the surface, touch-averse and impeccably clean. He's had to peel her off him like glue, more than once, leering at the soot stains she'd leave on his suit. (Child...you do know how to bathe?) But it brings out a quieter, forgotten part of himself, that closeness. He's tactile, too—something long staved off by his betrayal, by the nature of his position, by the violence he enacts and commands; but memory makes easy habits. It's not uncommon to find him making room for her at his desk; letting her nest in his arms while he lounges on his office's chaise, a book in hand; sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with her, folktales murmured late into the night, until her eyes stutter closed, her comforters tucked lightly over her shoulder. And all of it isn't Vi, to her—but it's a shadow of something Jinx remembers; a quiet warmth, a tired voice, a face she's forgotten.

Silco has had many drift in and out of his life, over the years; mentors less-so than bloodied beacons. With Vander, it was a young, prickling, heartached obsession—a desire to prove, to be seen, to be worthy. A manifestation of all his childhood ails, emboldened to their ugliest frenzy. Vander goaded; he chased rooftops and leapt from ever-greater heights; his ambition soared as far as his body could take him, as long as it took for someone to fall behind in the chase. But Silco could outwit him, outpace him, with strategy and scheming—the two of them unstoppable, unmatched, and enmeshed with unbalance. A hound on a killer's leash; a killer baring the hound's teeth. After the betrayal, Silco spent months in the reclusive company of the doctor. Science became a second language, and Piltie business rode on its coattails. The doctor got him through back-door loopholes into Topside medical labs, bartered connection with tutors in law and policy and business, and laid the foothold for investment. Silco's penchant for wordsmithing a crowd and eye for industrialization did the rest.

As a byproduct of the doctor's work, Jinx inevitably crosses paths with Viktor. She learns of him from afar, early-on in her settling in at the reacquired Last Drop. A little errand of passing off reports from Silco to Singed and back again leave her ogling Viktor's work, at every chance. He wants nothing to do with her, at first—until she prattles off her knowledge on chemical reconstruction, shows her inventions, wins his favor. They become good friends, over the years. In the aftermath of Fishbones' explosion, he's one of few who make active efforts to see her: they'll sit at the banks of the Pilt and share fishcakes, pickled cabbage, and thermoses of black tea. She'll talk shimmer varients; he'll talk chem-augmentations with Hextech. Together, they'll compile their shared notes in a tome she dubs Hohenheim (Hohie, for short). It's one of her most treasured possessions.

#arcane #arcane headcanon #writing #jinx #vi #silco #singed #viktor #the jinx & vik stuff i have a WIP for I'll pick back up someday #ALSO - things not in here but loosely on the frays:#jinx and ekko have a similar dichotomy with jinx and vi #ekko was powder's closest friend and now jinx's harshest enemy #he sees them as two separate facets of her identity - with jinx being a manipulation of what silco wants #sevika only followed vander through the onset of the cause and turned after deals with enforcers were struck #she was already working under silco's thumb long before she 'formally' quit vander's rung #at that time silco was terrifying to her - tunnel visioned and unforgiving #he's warmed up to someone else over time (who she might admire more if jinx wasn't a rusted nail between them)

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ariaterramoon · 19 days

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Watch me make an Arcane AU for the Shane Sibs

Totally not because I've been seeing clips and thus my interest in making this au resurfaced and came full force.

Long post prolly so watch me cook below the cut haha

First thoughts

Eli — Vi

Man's going to prison and gonna leave his sister behind. sobbing crying

Sarai — Powder/Jinx

Cue abandonment issues to the max—

Dana & Twist— Ekko

Dana's gonna be helping her dad in his shop, and since her father is friends with Eli's father, they are friends now. Yay!

Twist be an orphan and Tom adopted him uwu No betrayal Twist mayhaps???? 👀👀 He is Eli's best friend and was close with Sarai and watched her change CRYING

Kord and Trixie fill up Milo and Clagger

They're gonna die—AAAA

Pronto is gonna be that dude that Vander helped negotiate with the Bildgewater traders and then got hooked on Shimmer 😭😭😭

He took his twin brother's role as a trader sooo he lowkey sucks at it, but he gets help from the Hound of the Underground ofc uwu

Will — Vander

SOB sorry Will, you gonna die and worse. Your once old friend is going to come after you and your family 😭😭😭

Hmmm. The Shane's originally came from Piltover but were kicked out by the academy. Will is a second gen Underworlder, so still has quite some understanding of Piltover and their culture. His kids, however, have no clue. They're underworlders through and through.

Tom — Benzo

Him and Will best buds forever 😤😤😤 Tom loves his shop and his kids, even if they often get in trouble alongside Will's kids lmao

Very loyal to Will 💜

Dr. Blakk — Silco + Singed but mostly Silco

Ohhhh BOY here we go (tldr below)

Also a second gen Underworlder.

His father was kicked out by the Academy for forbidden/nonethical research. He landed in the Underground but was blessed to find a woman that he settled with. She died in childbirth, and he blames his son for her death. He still very much held an anger towards Piltover and swore to find a way back and get his life back and wanted to go back to his research there.

Thaddius was born, and when he learned about his father being kicked out, he felt bad for him and tried to comfort his father. Instead, he was met with anger and distain. His father still saw himself as a Piltovian, and he saw his son as Underworld trash, and although he never said it out loud, Thaddius knew what his father thought of him.

One day, a man came to talk with Thaddius' father and sure enough, his father had found a golden ticket back to Piltover. Only one golden ticket. Thaddius watched as his father exchanged him for a one way ticket to Piltover, abandoning him for a more lavish life.

Something broke in Thaddius that day, and since then, he has a disgust and hatred for Piltover. Why must the Underworld be less? They were Twin-Cities, supposed to be equals and yet... it was clear they were not. So Thaddius embraced his identity as an Underworlder, become zealous and created the Nation of Zaun. Will was against it, he knew that was not the solution and their friendship was broken because of it.

But now with Will gone, Dr. Blakk is one step closer to getting his Nation of Zaun.

But, what he never expected, was for Will's crying daughter to leap into his arms, sobbing about being left behind by her bother, her dead father right behind her...

TL;DR Papa Blakk abandoned Thaddius bc he was Underworld trash and Thaddius embraced being an Underworlder and created the Nation of Zaun. He then adopted stole Sarai and she is now his daughter.

Quentin — Singed

Hmmm, Blakk also takes on the role of Singed. He created Shimmer and takes on Quentin as his assistant. So now Quentin is in charge of further Shimmer research and he is the one who gets burned by the fire.

Maurice — Sevika

Man is loyal to the Underworld, he knew when to switch teams. He fought alongside Will when Piltover and the Underworld were at war. Eli knew him to be close to his father and feels betrayed when he learns Maurice. betrayed him and is now working with Dr. Blakk

Shanai is the very nice brothel lady that Vi gets info from.

She was like a grandma to the kids and is heartbroken by their deaths, and is tormented by the fact that Dr. Blakk has Sarai now.

And thus concludes my first thoughts about my Arcane AU. Lmk when yalll think 😭😭😭 my hearts gonna break when I draw for this au AAAA

#might change some character roles here and there #just trying to find which character suit the vibe the best #i want to include the gentleman so imma figure it out somehow #slugterra #bajoterra #slugterra au #the shane sibs #shane sib au #eli shane #sarai e shane #text post #arcane #arcane au #tw death #tw violence #my post #moon's aus #st arcane au #imma work on this eventuallyy

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lullabyes22-blog · 10 months

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Regardless of the situation, can we agree that Silco’s child with either Mel or Sevika would be one of the most beautiful (and potentially dangerous) humans in Runeterra? Either woman’s darker complexion, tall stature and full mouth combined with Silco’s bladelike nose, lithe grace and keen mind. Begotten by Melco, their eyes would be a stunning turquoise; Silvika’s kid would have stormy blue-gray irises. Although honestly, I feel like the latter would make a better leader for Zaun since they’d likely have both Silco’s cunning/intellect in addition to Sevika’s pragmatism and streetwise instinct (although knowing those two, the kid would likely grow up to be an absolute sex fiend 😬).

Ohhhh - the kid would be an absolute scourge of nations, in terms of sheer ruthlessness or intellect.

I actually picture it as being a boy in Sevika's case (simply because the father's genetics determine the baby's gender, and Silco's family tree is all boys in FnF). The kid would be a Daddy's boy through and though, with Sevika being the more disciplinarian type - to the point the kid goes, "Yes, ma'am, no ma'am," whenever addressing her, and runs to the door to say hello and help with bags when she returns home, like a little soldier greeting their captain. Meanwhile with Silco, he'd be indulged and given lots of space to get up to all sorts of mischief, similar to how Silco himself did as a boy. They'd have a million inside jokes that Sevika wouldn't be up on, which would irritate her to no end.

"What is so goddamn FUNNY?"

Silco, with Junior on his knee, both of them poring at a storybook: "You wouldn't get it."

Sevika: >(

Ultimately, the boy would end up salving a lot of Silco's hurts re: Vander, and the privations of their boyhood. He'd grow up a Zaunite to the core: cool-tempered, sharp-spoken, and an absolute beast in a brawl.

Also dggds imagine if he went the other extreme and instead of a sex fiend, he'd have one childhood sweetheart whom he'd partner up with as an adult, and stay happily monogamous throughout his life.

Sevika: "...Really?"

Silco: "...I wonder where we went wrong?"

In Mel's case, I can picture it as a girl, and the demure replica of her mother, which gives Silco a big dose of heartache (and headache) whenever he looks at her, and has him treating her in a similar way to how he'd interact with Mel: almost wryly courteous, holding the door open for her and pulling out a chair for his 'little lady', and bantering with her about everything from global affairs to fashion. She'd be wickedly cultured by age eight, and critiquing high art and politics by age twelve.

I can also see her going a similar diplomatic route as Mel, and being quite literally a silver-tongued peacemaker for Runeterran conflicts (many of them triggered by her older sister, Jinx, oops >.>). She'd also have a fair bit of colonial guilt re: Piltover's legacy and Noxus' history of conquest, given Papa spent time reciting works of revolutionary poetry and working-class pride at her all the way from the cradle.

I can also see a similar Mel/Ambessa tension developing between her and Silco re: her lack of cutthroat ability when it comes to survival. Although unlike Ambessa it would drive Silco to be much more protective (re: interfering) in her daily affairs as opposed to banishing her for his own benefit.

Yay, let's pass on generational trauma in newer and more exciting ways<3

#asks #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #arcane sevika #sevika #arcane mel #mel #mel medarda #ambessa medarda #melco #silco x mel #sevilco #silco x sevika #forward (never forget)/xoxo #forward but never forget/xoxo

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kikiiswashere · 6 months

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Children of Zaun - Chapter 17

Pairing: Silco/Fem!OC

Rating: Explicit

Story Warnings: Canon typical violence, drug use/dealing, dark themes, eventual smut

Chapter Summary: Katya and Viktor finally go to scope out some boats for his Academy project. While at the harbor, she spies a mysterious figure harvesting purple stuff (they were out of Sunny-D), and nearly gets outted by an exuberant Annie. Nasha comes to The Last Drop to talk with Silco and Vander about an opportunity for the revolution.

Previous Chapter

Word Count: 5.5K

The water was warm. Perfect. Not borderline scalding like the Springs. So close to Katya’s own body temperature that it felt like an extension of her. If it weren’t for the way the water parted and lapped at her arms and chest, she wasn’t sure if she would’ve been able to detect it. That, and the rippling across the surface, distorting the starlight’s glittering reflection, confirmed the water’s presence. It was pitch-dark, save for the sparkles above, which shimmered and refracted below, making Katya feel as if she were swimming in space itself.

There was no edge, no horizon line. There never was in this dream. Just her in this infinite space. Her body never tired, her breath was never taken away by exertion. She just swam. Floated.

Sometimes she would hum or sing, and her voice would somehow simultaneously echo off the glittering walls she couldn’t see, and be absorbed by them. The sound thrummed inside her body, and vibrated off of her damp skin.

It was only ever her here. No Viktor splashing behind her, no papa or mama swimming ahead. In some ways, it was nice. In others, it was lonely.

She forged ahead, cutting through the water in a lazy stroke, before flipping on her back and gazing up at the pinpricks of light. She felt her long hair swirl and hover in the water beneath her, swaying like a tangle of kelp. Then, her skin prickled and her body hummed. Katya knit her thick brows together, rolling over and shifting her body to an upright, treading position (although, there really wasn’t a need to tread in this magick-dream liquid). She looked behind her and squinted, even though she knew the action was futile.

Was there someone else here? It felt like it, almost.

She parted her lips to call out.

Then her eyes opened, and she was back in her bed. Squirreled up in her new blanket. The weave was thick and warm, and soft against the skin of her bare legs. The bedroom was still dark, but that wasn’t unusual given the time she normally woke up, and for the Sumps in general. She stretched her hand out of its warm cocoon and pawed at the bedside table, looking for her pocket watch. Once her fingers curled around it, she drew it back and popped it open, eying the time.

Time to get up.

Reluctantly untangling herself, Katya rolled out of bed. She pulled on a pair of trousers and quietly padded out of her room.

By the time the kettle began singing, Viktor had staggered out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed and bedheaded. His sister quietly greeted him as she turned the stove off and he teetered toward the kitchen table, sitting down heavily in his chair.

Katya poured the hot water into mugs of tea and bowls of oatmeal, and set them at their respective seats. They shared their breakfast in silence; Viktor eating very slowly, Katya longing for the herbs and spices of Enyd’s oxtail stew.

“I was thinking,” Katya said, stirring the last couple of spoonfuls around her bowl, “that after we go to the Shores, we could go back to the Springs.”

Viktor looked over his mug at her, interestedly.

“An afternoon swim before dinner?”

“You’ll swim with me?” he asked.

Katya took another bite of bland oats and nodded.

“I could go for a swim,” she said, thinking of her dream.

“We should get going then!” Viktor urged; his energy levels suddenly sparked. He gathered his empty dishes and hobbled to the sink, clumsily depositing them.

Katya chuckled, and followed suit.

The Shores – like the Promenade – had the benefit of sunlight. It reflected off the water’s surface in glittering swaths and sharp, blinding bursts. The air was without the dank funk of the Entresol and Sumps; brine and seaweed in its stead. The last bits of the season’s warmth hung on the breeze, ruffling hair and caressing cheeks. But the promise of the upcoming winter months was on the tail end of the wind; crispness and chill ghosting over the backs of bare necks, causing surprise shivers. As such, Katya had brought Viktor’s jacket, even though he argued and groaned that he didn’t need it. She kept it slung over her arm, but she warned him that when she saw gooseflesh ripple over his skin, the coat was going on. And being the younger brother, he was resigned to agree.

The siblings perched themselves on a heap of dry nets, piled on the Shores’ wharf. Katya was relieved that there wasn’t an Enforcer in sight. She dropped the rucksack she had packed in a thankful flumpf at their feet.

The harbor was still on the fuller side, boats not yet having been taken out for their fishing and trade duties. Dockhands, fisherman and mongers, and fishwives traveled to and fro across the water-sogged pier slats, their footsteps calming, echoing plods on the wood. No one paid the siblings any mind; there was work to be done.

Viktor fetched his notebook and pencil from the sack, along with their Papa’s old book on boats. It was a smaller text so Katya didn’t mind bringing it along.

“Here,” she said, holding a hand out. “I’ll hold on to the book.”

He passed it to her and cracked his steno pad open. Many of the pages inside had already been scribbled over – margin to margin, front and back. It warmed Katya’s heart for a reason she didn’t really understand. She smiled. Viktor flipped to a clean page, set the tip of his pencil on the parchment surface, and looked up, his eyes sweeping up and down the harbor. His sister could see in the intensity of his gaze that he was scrutinizing and memorizing the boats present. Their shapes and sizes, the materials they were made from, the mismatched materials that had been used to patch and repair.

He began slowly and carefully sketching a nearby tug boat, his pencil strokes becoming surer and darker as he went. Occasionally, he would write a note next to his sketch, equations and formulae. Katya watched as his eyes glazed over in intense focus, and how his jaw shifted side to side in concentration. A soft, proud smile pulled at her lips like warm taffy; that fondness slid down her shoulders and settled in between her shoulder blades.

The pair sat in companionable silence. Viktor mumbled to himself every now and again, Katya alternated between flipping through pages of the book in her lap, and letting her eyes lazily wander up and down the docks. The tide was beginning its leisurely return to the sea, and slowly, several of the boats in the harbor were taken out before the water became too shallow. She watched as barnacles and mussels that had glued themselves to the pier posts were slowly uncovered. Above, seabirds excitedly gathered in the sky, clicking and squawking their impending delight.

As the water receded, the algae blooms and scruffy marine vegetation became more noticeable. Slicks of slime green coated rocks and seaweeds draped and dripped lazily over them. Most of the plant life were varying shades of green and brown. For Trenchers, working at the water’s edge was really the only time they would see green in the Undercity. The leafy trees of Piltover couldn’t survive the deep dark of the Fissures. What plant life existed there was either equally dark or sickly pale.

There was one exception.

Not wanting to leave Viktor’s side, Katya strained her neck and squinted her eyes towards the mouth of the harbor. She remembered visiting the tidepools with her Papa; he had told her that the purple algae and flowers only grew there – at the opening of the sea, in the littoral caves that cut into the coasts of Piltover and her Undercity. They had fascinated Katya the most, the way they shimmered and seemed to glow from within.

As the tide receded, she thought she saw the purple glimmer on the rocks. It could’ve been a trick of the sun, but it made her smile all the same. She wished she could’ve shown Viktor, but the tidepools and slick crags of the shoreline were too treacherous for him and his cane.

She felt a small hand paw at her side. Turning back, she saw Viktor asking for the book. She passed it over, and then turned to look out past the harbor again. She blinked. A figure had appeared at the edge of the water. A tall, thin someone. In a dark cloak and a wide-brimmed sun hat. A basket was slung over their elbow. They knelt and pawed at the rocks, and puddles between. Occasionally, they would bring up a fistful of purple algae and deposit it into their basket.

Katya’s spine straightened and her brows pinched together. She’d never seen anyone gather it. Papa had told her that it was one of the few inedible marine flora, and its slimy texture and fickle constitution didn’t make it much good for anything else than looking pretty. She couldn’t imagine what someone would harvest it for. Even the flowers, when picked, lost their luster so quickly that they were wilted by the time one brought them home. She had remembered trying, and being very upset when her bouquet hung limply over the drinking glass she used as a vase.

The figure stood and, with steps that spoke of great practice, glided around the large rocks and out of sight. Katya chewed on the inside of her lip and scrunched her nose. The purple halo of the rocks was gone. Gathered up, for some unimaginable reason, into the stranger’s basket.

A little after noon, once Viktor had nearly filled his notepad with sketch after sketch, Katya suggested that they head for the Springs and Oases. Despite wanting to do this next part of their day, the boy grumbled a bit, struggling to extricate himself from the task he was absorbed in. She patiently waited as he finished his drawings and notes, reminding him in a soft voice to take his time. He finally handed his notebook to her, and she stuffed it and the textbook away in the rucksack.

They hopped off the pile of nets – both siblings taking a moment to stretch their legs and backs – and headed for the stairs that would guide them back into the edges of the Undercity. From there, they would wind through the crumbling boundaries of their home city to the Springs.

Once they were halfway up the stairs, a series of shouts from the docks cause both siblings to jump and look around. Katya’s hands gripped Viktor’s shirt tightly and her heart thundered, her eyes frantically looking back at the docks. A flurry of movement grabbed her eye, and the thudding of her heart lessened.

Down on the right side of the docks, near an ancient looking fishing trawler, Annie bounced furiously, waving her thin arms in the air. Beckett was at her side, mooring the small vessel.

“Katya!” Annie screamed.

Even from faraway, Katya could see the wide smile splitting the other woman’s face. She readjusted her hold on Viktor’s shirt and encourage him to keep walking up the stairs.

“Who’s that?” he asked, stumbling a bit as he tried to follow his sister’s instructions and get a look at whoever was yelling at them.

“A patient from the mines,” she lied, her jaw tight.

“Should we go say hello?”

“No, it’s fine,” Katya quickly replied, continuing to urge him up the stairs.

To satisfy her brother, and hopefully shut Annie up, she turned and waved back. And then continued to encourage Viktor away from the Shores.

It had been a long time since Katya swam in the Springs. She hissed in discomfort as she submerged her body in the near blistering water. Viktor giggled at her, and plunged his head underneath the surface. He burst back up in an impressive wave, chestnut hair plastered to his head. His white, crooked smile stood out from the pink of his skin as he egged her to go all the way under. He whooped and clapped when she did, and Katya appeared back above the water laughing.

Their joy rang off the wet rocks of the Springs. Vibrating through the water and humming on their wet skin.

Since Katya was in the pools with him, she allowed Viktor to explore some of the deeper waters. Not so deep that her own toes didn’t touch the bottom, but enough so that his kicks and strokes weren’t impeded by the Terra.

As he splashed and flailed, she took a couple of graceful strokes, reaching her arms over head and cutting through the water like a fish. Then she dove under, undulating her hips and flicking her legs. She swirled through the hot water with her eyes pinched shut, using her fingertips to feel her way. Her head pitched up and she broke through the surface, breathing in the warm, chronically-petrichor scented air. Like in her dream, she flipped on her back and lazily floated, staring up at the sandy colored stalactites above.

“Can you show me that one stroke again?” Viktor asked, as he paddled over.

Living in a port city, their parents had felt it would be important for their children to be able to swim. Luckily, this was a skill both their mama and papa had been adept at. Prior to Viktor’s birth, they would take Katya to the Oases and the small, cleaner beaches on the Undercity’s side of the Pilt, and teach her how to right herself in the water, to float, and to swim.

After Viktor was born, and their mother left, the beaches were swallowed up by chemical runoff. For most of the year, the water in the Oases was too chilled, and would cause Viktor’s limbs to cramp horribly. It didn’t help that the pools there were often full of rowdy, too-rough children who could not be mindful around the handicapped youngster. So, their papa had tried the Springs. Initially fearful that its water would be too hot for any of them – much less his son’s sensitive constitution – both he and Katya were relieved and elated that Viktor’s body responded well to the heat and the amped up buoyancy of the mineral-rich pools.

Together, Katya and her papa taught him different swimming strokes. While Viktor tried, his bent body couldn’t execute the movements as seamlessly; and he preferred just paddling and splashing. He had to live enough in his head most of the time. In the cradle and forgiving nature of water, he allowed himself to drop into his body, and connect with it, move it in ways he couldn’t do on land.

“The firelight one?” Katya asked, wiping her hair back from her face.

Viktor swam to a rock ledge, and clung to it as he nodded.

Taking a breath, she reached out in front of her, aligning her fingertips with her shoulders and then cut her arms down through the water, pulling her upper body beneath the surface. As she propelled forward, her elbows popped up and back, pushing the water behind her hips and legs. Her thumbs grazed the outside of her thighs, hips rolling and legs kicking, before she swung her arms back out of the water and repeated the stroke.

She stopped short of the pool’s edge, and turned to her brother.

“How was that?” she asked with a smile.

Viktor beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! Yes! Can you show me again? Slower this time?”

She did the best she could to slow her movements so he could watch and take mental notes. After a couple more laps, he paddled to the pool’s center and tried the stroke for himself. Katya treaded at his side offering adjustments when they were necessary.

“Keep your legs straighter when you kick . . . palms facing the ground . . . tuck your belly up as you go under . . . “

It was a harder maneuver even for those who were able-bodied, but Viktor did well despite his limitations. He tried again and again, steadily improving until he started to get fatigued, and his form began to suffer. Panting, he flopped onto his back and lazily kicked.

“It is strange being wet and sweaty at the same time,” he mused through gulps of breath.

Katya chuckled. “Yes, it is.”

It wasn’t long before they toweled off and redressed, heading home before the sun went low and made the Sumps even darker. On their way through an Undercity market, they passed a butcher’s counter and Katya’s mouth watered at the sight of oxtails, all lined up in rows of two. Her heart clenched at the memory of her shared supper. She wished she could’ve bought them, but even for scrap meat it was too expensive.

The next stall was a fishwife’s, the crates around her laden with various sea life. At one end of her counter, a bucket sat with melted ice. Katya peered inside and saw two scraggly tentacles.

“They’re the last of my batch,” the fishwife rasped. “No one wants ‘em.”

Katya chewed her lip. She was tired of oats and beans. She thought of what Enyd had said about teaching herself to cook.

“A lot of trial and error.”

“How much?” Katya asked.

“Ten cogs.”

“Ten cogs! Kecáŝ!”Katya muttered, disbelieving. Viktor let out a small gasp and shifted uneasily next to her. “You just said that nobody wants them. I’ll give you four cogs.”

“Five.”

Katya pursed her lips and grumbled a moment before conceding. The fishwife plucked the tentacles from their icy bath and wrapped them up. She thrust the wet package into Katya’s hands, and swiped the coins from her other palm. The fishwife slurred something under her breath, and it soured the young woman’s mood enough to forgo saying thank you.

As she ushered Viktor along, she noticed small bundles of herbs placed on the corner of the counter. Her eyes flicked back to the fishwife, who was busy counting her sales, and then back to the herbs. Quick as a wink and silent as a secret, Katya’s hand snapped up a bundle and stuffed it in her pocket.

Once home, Viktor limped to the shower and Katya began preparing their dinner.

Trial and error. Trial and error.

She kept repeating it to herself like a mantra as she cut and cooked the tentacles. She melted a scoop of cooking grease in a pan and added the appendages. They snapped and spat and curled. Their color, a dull, rocky gray, shifted into a brighter blue as they sat in the pan. The apartment took on the scent of the sea. The oil around them began to brown and she added the bouquet of herbs. She wasn’t sure if this was how one was supposed to do it. . .

Trial and error. Trial and error.

The smell of woods and something bright – close to lemon – joined the briny scent of the tentacles. A forest butted up against an ocean.

One thing Katya did know was that overcooked tentacles turned rubbery. She turned the stove off and swished the pan back and forth, coating the seafood in the herbaceous fat.

“Smells good!” Viktor said excitedly, appearing in the kitchen.

“I hope it’s good,” she prayed. “Go take your seat.”

He hobbled to the table and sat down as she grabbed plates, and placed a tentacle on each one. She carefully plucked the now damp and muted herbs from the pan. Were they supposed to eat these, too? Could they? She shrugged, put the bundle on her plate, and sat opposite her brother.

Initially, they took tentative bites at their dinner, tasting and testing. It wasn’t bad!

Trial and error.

Fatty and meaty in a way beans couldn’t compare with. The hot grease filled them in a different way than oats. The flavor the herbs imparted made the tougher sections of the tentacles worth chewing through.

Katya untied the herbs, and brought a limp, leafy stem to her nose and sniffed.

“Did the fishwife give you those, too?” Viktor asked.

“Yes. She tossed them in to make up for her unreasonableness.”

She popped the herb into her mouth and immediately spat it back out. Viktor laughed.

Trial and error.

When Silco and Enyd entered The Last Drop that evening, both were taken aback by the crowd. Even for a Saturday night, the tavern was bursting at the seams.

“Are any of these girls from the mill?” Silco asked, leaning close to his mother’s ear.

Enyd’s eyes swept over the crowd. It was difficult to see when there were so many bodies, and since she was so short. It also didn’t help that she had never really committed any other face from Clapper to memory, aside from Amos, Birdy, and Nasha.

She shook her head and raised her voice enough for Silco to hear.

“I don’t think so. I don’t see Nasha, anyway.”

She suddenly pulled away, and hid her face in the crook of her elbow as a sudden wave of coughing overtook her. She recovered and Silco guided them through the throngs of patrons to the bar. They were surprised to see that it was not Vander behind the counter, but Benzo. He hobbled to and fro, addressing customer’s needs, filling orders, and collecting dirty tankards. His color and disposition seemed better; his mood probably bolstered by the fact that he was no longer secluded to a bed.

“Where’s Vander?” Silco asked

He and his mother squeezed in next to Sevika who was seated on a middle stool, sipping the foamy head off her beer. She nodded in greeting.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Benzo replied with a sassy head bobble. He picked up a glass hidden beneath the counter and took a swig.

Silco’s lip curled and he spat, “Didn’t Kat tell you not to drink!”

Benzo blinked, confused. Sevika’s eyebrows quirked with interest.

“Kat? Oh, ya mean Kat-YA? Since when’re you on a nickname basis with ‘er?”

“Are you guys talking about Katya?” Annie cried, suddenly appearing with an empty serving tray.

Silco, Enyd, Sevika and Benzo all jumped at the young woman’s sudden entrance. She slammed the tray on the countertop, her pretty face clouded in a bitter expression.

“Janna, Annie,” Sevika grumbled, rolling her shoulders.

“She totally blew me off today!”

“You saw her?” Silco asked.

“Yeah. At the Shores with her little brother. I was with Becks and saw them leaving. So, I called and waved, and she barely looked at me,” she huffed, flicking one of her braids over her shoulder.

“I’m sure it wasn’t intentional,” Enyd offered. “She and her brother were probably trying to keep a schedule.”

Annie rolled her eyes, dissatisfied with this theory.

“She coulda said ‘hello’ at least,” she grumbled. Pushing her tray across the bar, she told Benzo, “The guys playing with Tolder want another round.”

As Benzo went about pouring a couple fresh pints, Enyd turned to Sevika.

“Why aren’t you at your father’s table playing cards?”

Sevika slurped her beer, silver eyes glancing over at her father. He was engrossed in his hand, smoking a cigarillo and leaned back in his seat. A small mound of coins was piled on his side of the table. The two other Trenchers were pitched forward, their noses in the fan of their cards.

“He told me he didn’t need help with those two,” she answered with a sly smile. “Good thing, too. I wanna sit in on this meeting.”

The thin line of Silco’s lips tightened, and he repeated his initial question.

“Where’s Vander?”

“He’s in the basement,” Benzo said, placing overfilled glasses onto Annie’s tray. “Playin’ with ‘is new toys. I told ‘im I could watch th’bar. Tired of bein’ cooped up anyhow.”

Enyd leaned toward the large man and whispered, “Have you seen Nasha? The girl we are supposed to be meeting with?”

Benzo finished loading up Annie’s tray and waved her off.

“I don’ know ‘er. An’ no one’s come up askin’ fer you or Van,” he replied, shaking his head. His face suddenly split into a grin, and he added, “But not fer nothin’ all o’ this,” he nodded toward the bustling bar floor, “is mostly people drawn here by the Children rumors.”

“So, the plan worked then,” Silco said, satisfied, eying the milling bodies.

Benzo snorted. “Yeah, every now n’ again that coal-dust addled brain o’ yours can come up with a good’un. People been comin’ in, pissin’ n’ moanin’ ‘bout the increased Enforcer activity; n’ askin’ if they can help.”

Silco let the insult slide, too distracted by the new numbers of Brothers and Sisters before him. He beamed at his mother and Sevika.

“Ope!” Benzo hiccupped behind them. “This your girl? She’s comin’ up like she means business.”

Silco and Enyd directed their attention towards the front of the bar. Indeed, Nasha stood a few feet from the door, her head craned over the crowd, eyes scanning. She had removed her bonnet and changed her drab work smock. Instead, she glittered and stood out. She’d pulled her hair into two, large puffs that haloed her head. Her clothes were an artful patchwork of deep, jewel-toned fabrics and brass fastenings. Clearly designed and stitched by her, as they molded to her tall and broad frame perfectly. And because it was unlikely any garment shop in the Undercity carried such things.

She spied Enyd and began gliding toward the bar. Patrons parted readily, some moved by the girl’s innately intimidating energy, and some because they didn’t want to be pierced by the pointed shoulder pads of her jacket. As she neared, they could see that she had literally painted her face. Purposeful and meticulous lines and dots of white and yellow accented her eyes and cheeks.

“Hi Ms. Enyd!” Nasha exclaimed brightly. “I almost didn’t see you.”

“Something I’ve struggled with my whole life,” the older woman joked, her arms flourishing at her sides to present her petite stature.

“Nasha, this is my son, Silco,” she introduced. “This is Benzo, and Sevika.”

Silco politely nodded, while Benzo gave her a finger wiggling wave. Sevika seemed frozen, her eyes glued to Nasha’s face, her jaw slack. A furious stripe of coral bloomed over her nose and cheeks.

“HI!” she cried, far too late. Her body jerked as she suddenly came back online, and she knocked her tankard over. “Oh, shit.”

The blush on her face deepened, and spread to her forehead and down her cheeks. She righted her glass and helped Benzo mop up her mess.

Nasha chuckled and turned back to Enyd.

“Where should we go to talk?”

“Vander’s in the basement,” Silco answered. “We’ll go down there. It’s quieter.”

Carefully threading through people in the crowd, he led Nasha, his mother, and Sevika (who tailed behind after pushing the sodden pile of towels over the bar) to the Drop’s private quarters, and then to the basement.

As the joyful din of the tavern faded, it was replaced by repeated deep, muted thumps, heavy breathing, and occasional grunts.

“Should we come back later?” Nasha joked.

Sevika giggled. Then snorted.

“Shit. Sorry,” she moaned, her face turning red again.

“No, come on,” Silco said, unphased by their guest’s unseemly implication.

He led them to the stockroom, and there they found a shirtless, rumpled Vander, gleaming with sweat. On his hands were the bulky gauntlets he’d picked up from Mek’s the day before. Before him was a large, heavy sack of flour that he had tied to a rope and affixed to the room’s rafters with a rudimentary pulley system. He was punching the bag with such ferocity that it swung to and fro, back and forth. Vander ducked, bobbed, and weaved as his adversary came at him, before laying into it with more hits. The bag, while a sturdy weave, was beginning to split and tear, trails of white flour spilling out like sand in an hourglass.

“Vander!” Silco yelled.

Despite being a mountain of a man, he jumped, clanking the gauntlets together and spinning around to face his impromptu audience.

“Oh! Hey!” he panted, a sheepish grin on his lips. His eyes suddenly landed on Nasha and he exclaimed, “Oh, shit! Is it that late already? Sorry! I musta lost track o’ time.”

He dropped the gauntlets on the floor, and hurried over to a stack of crates that he’d left his shirt on.

“That’s a waste of perfectly good flour, Vander,” Enyd admonished. She let her motherly disappointment of food waste over take her, instead of worrying about him practicing fighting. It was an easier and less complicated thing to focus on.

“I know, Ms. E. ‘M sorry,” Vander breathed, wiping his face with his balled-up shirt. “It was th’most Enforcer-like thing I could find. I wanted t’practice usin’ ‘em before I actually needed ‘em.”

Enyd’s jaw tensed and her tongue glued itself to the roof of her mouth.

“Can I try them?” Sevika asked, stepping forward and picking one of the gauntlets up.

“You fight, too, huh?” Nasha purred, eyes raking up and down the other’s body. “Is that how you got that figure?”

“Um,” Sevika warbled, her blush returning yet again.

“Let’s get to business, actually,” Silco said, stepping up to the flour bag and cutting its rope with the knife he kept in his sleeve.

The already split bag dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, and the seams on one side gave. Flour poured out in a misty avalanche that made Enyd put a bereaved hand to her forehead.

“So, yer Nasha?” Vander said, settling his hips onto a crate. “Enyd said ye got some intel on a crooked Piltie?”

“They’re all crooked,” Silco muttered, coming to stand at his Brother’s side.

Vander’s skin prickled at his proximity. He both wished he had put his shirt back on – instead of using it as a towel – and he was glad for the one-less-layer of closeness.

Nasha’s gaze dropped and she walked forward, scuffing her pointed-toed shoes through the flour.

“You’re really going to try and secede from Piltover?” she asked finally.

The flirty mask she’d entered with fell, and she fixed the two men with a firm, demanding look beyond her years.

“Not try,” Silco corrected. “We will gain our independence from them.”

Nasha lifted her chin, regarding him carefully.

“My aunt and I settled in the Undercity about ten years ago,” she said. “We left Noxus because she disagreed with their . . . expansionist politics. With their brutality. Our coin only got us as far as Piltover. The Land of Progress, we had heard. We didn’t have the means to live on their gilded streets; we had to move into their slums. And we’ve never been able to get out. We traded one myopic nation for another.”

She paused, and then added, “I want this information to be put to good use. I want there to be progress on the other side of it.”

“And there will be,” Vander promised. “When Zaun stands together, there will be.”

Nasha seemed satisfied with this. She told the small group what she had imparted to Enyd a couple days prior, and more. She told them about this Topsider’s money problems. About how he was going to pay his gambling debts with stolen coin. About how he was forging curtains and documentation to cover his tracks. About how his ‘package’ would be sent via airship the week after next. And about how he would be securing a private crew to deliver said package.

Some details were still vague, or unknown. Despite this, Vander, Silco, and Sevika quivered with excitement, and Enyd listened carefully. Nasha promised to flush out as much information as she could, and would bring it to the next meeting of the Children of Zaun.

“Thank ye so much fer this, Nasha,” Vander said, his face creased with relief.

“I want a free nation as much as any Sump-born Trencher,” she said. “You should be thanking Ms. Enyd. She’s the one who got me here.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Sevika chuckled. “Silco had to get his passion and doggedness from somewhere.”

It was Enyd’s turn to blush. A light, delicate pink that glowed under her pale skin.

“I just want that money back in the hands . . . of Zaunites. Where it should be,” she said quietly.

The rest agreed.

“If ye want,” Vander said, turning back to Nasha, “if ye head back up t’the bar, Benzo’ll give ya a drink. On th’house. It’s the least we can do fer you.”

Their new member hummed thoughtfully, gently swaying side to side. She reached out and twirled a loose piece of hair from one of Sevika’s buns.

“Show me the way?”

Sevika gawked at her for a moment, before saying, “Yeah. Sure.”

Very overwhelmed and pleased, she led Nasha from the storeroom and up to the bar.

“They’re not of age, you know,” Silco said, elbowing Vander’s arm lightly.

The larger man did his best to seem unphased by the contact.

He tossed a hand carelessly through the air and said, “It’s fine. It’s not like Enforcers are comin’ in here t’card people anyway.”

He winked at his Brother.

Enyd’s mouth split in a proud smile, looking at the two men in front of her.

“The bar is too full of revolutionaries to fit any Enforcers in it anyway.”

Notes: Heeeeey! Hope you enjoyed the cuteness at the start of the chapter because things are gonna start to become less sweet here on out. Things are also gonna start to pick up, too! It's time for this revolution to kick it into high-gear. It's also about dang time for things to pick up between Silco and Kat, no?

If you've made it this far, please comment and reblog! Or visit my askbox. I'm dying to talk with you about this story. Hugs n' kisses!

Coming Up Next: Silco can't wait to tell somebody about this opportunity! Katya seems a good a person as any! The Academy Board makes their decision regarding Rynweaver's concerns. Katya and Heimerdinger go toe-to-toe

Next Chapter

Tag list: @dreamyonahill @pinkrose1422 @altered-delta @beardedladyqueen @truthandadare

#children of zaun #coz #arcane #arcane fanfic #silco #viktor #vander #sevika #benzo #silco fanfic #viktor fanfic #orginal characters #ocs #fanfiction

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nabateaprodigy · 9 months

Text

Masterlist

Finally got around to making this! Here's a collection of my writing.

Where are you y/n? (Rhea x GN!Reader)

By Your Side (M!Alear x Vander)

Heartache (M!Byleth x Seteth)

Fódlan Sibling Headcannons (Dimitri, Felix, Constance, Linhardt, Caspar, and Yuri)

A King and his Summoner (Dimitri x GN!Reader)

A Picnic and Flowers (Clanne x Citrinne)

Starlight Sky (Rhea x F!Byleth)

Byleth and Shez Comfort Headcannons (M!Shez and M!Byleth x GN!Reader)

Domestic Life Headcanons (M!Shez and Claude x GN!Reader)

Cuddle Time! (Arval, M!Shez, and M!Byleth x Fem!Reader)

The Prince and His Maiden of Death (Dimitri x Fem!Reader)

Alcryst, M!Alear, and Gregory Headcannons. (Alcyst, M!Alear, and Gregory x Fem!Reader)

I'm Not Jealous! (Hortensia x Clanne)

Hey! That Dance Is With Me! (Ferdinand, Caspar, and Dorothea x GN!Reader)

A Friendship of Fire and Ice (Natsu x Male!Reader)

Papa Where do Babies Come From? (Juvia x Male!Reader)

My Lovely Rain Woman (Juvia x Male!Reader)

Can't Look Back (Juvia x Gray)

Angelic Care (Angel x Male!Reader)

Hidden Power (Mirajane x GN!Reader)

Love At First Drink? (Gray x Male!Reader)

Uninvited Guests (Gray x Fem!Reader)

Rude Awakening (Wendy x Male!Reader)

Musical Mishap (Team Natsu x Fem!Reader)

Talk To Me (Juvia x Male!Reader)

I Can't Lose you to (Gray x Fem!Reader)

Snakes Curse (Wendy x Male!Reader)

First Word (Juvia x Male!Reader)

Rain, Rain Go Away and Come Back Another Day (Gray x Male!Reader)

Overflow (Gray and Lucy x Male!Reader)

Dear Little Brother (Greige x Fem!Reader)

Moving On (Gray and Juvia x Male!Reader)

Vs Y/N! (Omori, Kel, Hero, and Aubrey x GN!Reader)

Ice Skating Mania (Omori, Hero, Kel, Aubrey, and Basil x Male!Reader)

Goodbye...Omori (Omori x GN!Reader)

Hopeful Maid (Nagito x Mahiru)

Rantaro and Kokichi Headcannons (Kokichi and Rantaro x GN!Reader)

Lady of Despair (Junko x Fem!Reader)

Music and Stars (Shuichi, Kokichi, K1-B0, and Rantaro x GN!Reader)

Kokichi and Nagito With a Sensitive S/O (Kokichi and Nagito x GN!Reader)

Please Don't Turn Me Into a Marketable Plushy! (Mukuro, Junko, Komaru, and Sonia x GN!Reader)

Pain In His Eyes (Fuyuhiko, Nagito, Kazuichi, and Leon x GN!Reader)

Attention (Kokichi x GN!Reader)

Playful Tendencies (Kokichi x GN!Reader)

A Mountain of Plushies (Nagito, Fuyuhiko, Kazuichi, and Hajime x Male!Reader)

Hopefully Compassion (Nagito x Fem!Reader)

Cheerleader Star (Leon x Gn!Reader)

Deserved to be Loved (Mahiru x Male!Reader)

DR1 and DR2 Cuddling Headcannons (Makoto, Chihiro, Hajime, and Nagito x AFAB!Reader)

Love of History (Kyoko, Mukuro, Ibuki and Kirumi x GN!Reader)

Life or Death (Kyoko and Mukuro x Male!Reader.)

Fire Emblem games i write for and character x character pairings

If i write for platonic x reader.

If I write for Naruto

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yanderefairyangel · 8 months

Text

Lumera's first death gets on my nerves

Alright, I think we can all agree that this scene got way too long even if I understand the reasons considering they needed to

1/ Establish that Lumera couldn't be healed and lost all her powers to gave them to Alear and that's also why it weakened the Lythos barrier

2/ Have Lumera teach some of her last lesson and promise with Alear to have their motivation explained

3/ To have a cry moment

But why it gets on my nerves it's because it's genuinely well written yet the scene's length is laughable on first playthrough.

Now I may sound biased because I play with JPN dub on and Aya Endo nailed the performance because it's Aya Endo but damn, do we ever talked about the amount of foreshadowing in that scene ?

" Good. Mommy always wanted to meet with you !"

"You are my mother ?"

This is the meeting between Alear and Lumera. Lumera call herself 母さん/kaasan/mother.

However when asking the question Alear says 母親 /hahaoya/mother. While the two means the same thing, there is some nuance in jpn with 母親 being more polite and formal then 母さん, which is a casual way of saying mother. And seeing how upon waking up Alear immediately used the formal suffix san when talking to Vander for the first time, it's probably a mark of reflexive politeness on Alear's part. However, Lumera calling herself 母さん isn't just to show her love for Alear or their closeness, it's how Alear used to call her in the past and eventually does after her death. So when Alear called her 母親 it immediately triggered Lumera's attention because this appelation made it even more obvious that Alear forgot about her, especially as in japanese dialogue, when asking a question, the characters often repeats the word that the previous speaker just uttered so you would expect Alear to ask : "あなたが、母さん ?" rather then 母親 . Alear using 母親 is translating into their complete loss of familiarity towards Lumera. It's additionally tying to Past Alear's polite tone that coupled by the use of hiragana and their cold tone translated more as an automatism rather then actual and genuine politness since Alear's politeness is being here very immediate almost reflexive.

Now, it's important to point that out but during the entire the chapter where Lumera is still alive, Alear doesn't call her "mother". The first time they call her "mother" is... during the death scene

Ah.. you called me... your mother

In this dialogue Lumera is saying 母/haha instead of 母さん whereas Alear called her 母さん. This create a parallel to this scene with the role reversed. Morover, on Alear calling Lumera 母さん I'd like to point out that while it is still respectuous, Alear is being less formal with Lumera. Normally, seeing how polite they are I'd expect them to call Lumera お母様/okasama which is more formal. For example, Corrin does that with Mikoto. And in Engage's case, Alear calls Sombron お父様 /otosama. And while the way the character refers to their relative as isn't necessarily reflecting their closeness, it's often saying about them : for example, Veyle despite not being very close to Sombron, calls him パパ/Papa which is there to translate Veyle's innocent and a bit childish nature, and to contrast with how her other self calls Sombron お父様. Nel calls Sombron by his first name, and from times to times, call him お父様/otosama too, and this is likely to show her trying to distance herself from Sombron, espiecially as Alear nevers call Sombron "father" with maybe 2 exception : the A support with Veyle and at the end of the game, when Sombron is defeated. Seeing the difference between the way Alear calls Sombron vs how they refered to Lumera however, I think it's translating to how close they are and to Alear's affection towards Lumera. Another example of such case is how Rafal calls Sombron 父上/chichihue which is even more formal and sophisticated, and while it can be used just because of the royals status of the characters (since Diamant and Alcryst calls King Morion 父上 to, despite being on good terms), it's probably more due to the same reason as Alear since Rafal calls Nel/姉さん/neesan which much like 母さん is more casual and shows the Twins's closness and yet another parallel between Alear and Rafal. So Alear speaks more casually when talking with Lumera as a way to show their close bonds. While 母さん can also be translated as mother, it generally is casual and means more mom or mommy and imo the english version settled with mother because of Alear's statuts. And back to my commentary on 母親, it's even rarer and even more formal then if Alear had called her 母上, emphasizing Alear's total sense of strangerness upon meeting Lumera and contrasting drastically with how they end up casually adressing her. Contrasting with how Alear used to adress to Sombron and how polite they are with their allies, this shows that Alear is at ease with Lumera and let the guard down with her, that they can be casual with her.

Now, the interesting bits is that Alear ended up screaming 母さん despite their memory loss and their intial reflexive politeness toward Lumera showing a hint of subconsious memory, you know ? those things that feels vaguely familiar to Alear, and in general they feel this more towards things related to the Fell world. But in this case, they end up feeling this towards Lumera because ... of that one cutscene in chapter 21-22. Lumera, like Alear at that time, is dying in Lythos castle. This is a familair scenery but with reversed role : instead of Lumera holding a dying Alear, it's Alear who is holding a dying Lumera. And this is even more explicit at the moment where Alear begans to cry again, they switch to hiragana

And at the risk of sounding like a broken record, current Alear speaks in full kanji, while Past Alear is the one speaking in hiragana. Alear switching at that very moment to hiragana is showing that their body remembers something that their mind don't as they end up speaking like they used in the past : using the same alphabet as a smal child.

Also, I played with F!Alear and at the begining of the game, she speaks with a more hight pitched voice compared to the latter game sounding much more childish as a result, making the immediate politness seems even more like a mechanism and in this scene, it's a striking parallel to the cutscene of chapter 21/22 as Alear speaks with the same tone as their past selves in that very scene. So when the scene switches to hiragana, it makes it like the same scene replays, with the role reversed, as if Alear remembered what happened despite it being subconsious.

And when Alear and Lumera makes the pinky promise/指切りand that Lumera's finger ends up falling, Alear says this

Alears says "kaasan" in hiragana before switching back to kanji

And from now on, each time Alear would refer to Lumera they will call her 母さん using the kanji form. There is one exception to this and it's Lumera's second death and this scene also parallel with Lumera's first death since in both case, the last word that Alear speaks in hiragana before reverting to kanji is "mother".

So my problem with this scene is that in japanese, the lengh and the precense of the dialogue is actually here to foreshadow the whole thing and because the writers wanted the player to notice it, especially as Lumera's death is supposed to feel sad from an hinsight, that is to say that the narrative delivering more about Lumera after her death is here to make us, the audience realize how in retrospective her death created a void in Alear's live, even beyond their amnesia.

And even more clever, the use of the camera. I know we all love to make fun of Alear's hair but here, the switching between their different profile from the camera is so clever because when Alear switched back to hiragana, the camera is focusing on the dominant red of her hair, making it feel like she actually remembers what happens.

This scene is doing an amazing job at justifying Alear's scene even before we learn about how much Lumera meant to them because it's showing how they actually remember things, even if their mind is still unable to recognize it.

But the thing is ... that for the English player, this whole switching isn't going to be noticed since unlike japanese, who have several alphabets, English doesn't have that. Nothing against the translator (at least this time) because the nuance and subtilities of the jpn dialogue between Alear and Lumera are impossible to properly translate and of course, the English speaking audience won't switch to a language that they don't understand, so all that remains is an way too long death scene.

I still think it's too long for it's own good and that they could have shorten it a bit, but the main reason why there is so many dialogue was precisely because of this. I genuinely think that it's unfortunate you can't appreciate the genius of this scene unless you switch to japanese (plus Mitsuishi's voice made me cry in that scene)

Engage has tons and tons of foreshadowing in it's early game that you can't really spot until you have played the entire game, so when you replay the story, it feels like a reward to see all of these little details.

#fire emblem engage #fire emblem #fe engage #alear fire emblem #fe alear #alear #queen lumera #lumera #lumera fe #lumera fire emblem #fire emblem emotional damage #still about Alear's subonscious memory #alear's subconsious memory conspiracy #say whatever you want about Engage but they do care about the form as much as the content.#meta analysis #meta #game analysis #fire emblem analysis

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conretewings · 2 years

Note

A Vander x chubby/midsized fem reader who's insecure? She's trying to get better about how she views herself since Vander doesn't like the way she looks down on her body; so she buys some lingerie but she ends up hiding it since she thinks she doesn't look good, and Vander finds it? I love your work a lot by the way :))

-ASDFGIQRKL thank you dear follower 😭❤ I apologize profusely for this taking so long I've been...going through it *nervous laugh* BUT here we go and I hope you enjoy:

VANDER X FEM!READER (chubby reader, body positivity, suggestive content)

-She sighs for the dozenth time, holding up to herself the two outfits she was trying to decide between in front of the chipped full length mirror. This was an important occasion after all, so she felt she had to look her best.

Should it be; the worn but still in good shape rust-red corseted corduroy dress, with embroidered trim along the deep V neckline and hems?

Or; the deep green and black, knee-length heavy cotton skirt and her good semi white blouse? Either would work with her clean boots and only unripped pair of stockings but which...?

Lowering them both, she stares forlornly at her thin t-shirt and shorts clad reflection, her belly, muffin top and all her thickness painfully apparent and laments, "Oh, it doesn't matter..."

"What doesn't matter?" came a deep voice from the doorway.

She glances to the side at the second reflection now visible, turning her head to properly look at the figure that just walked in and closed the door behind him, her face heating up; Vander smiles curiously at her, his own shirt completely unbuttoned and she has to fight back biting her lip. He comes up behind her and rests his broad hands on her shoulders, giving the top of her head a peck then catches her gaze in the mirror.

"Well...?" he asks, not dropping it.

Her eyes fall to the warped wood floor, "I...no matter what I wear it'll look...I'm still-"

"Hey, hey now-" he interrupts sternly, knowing all too well where she was going and shaking his head, "Love, we've talked about this. Ya know I hate it when you put yourself down 'n it just hurts you too."

"I know! But...I still just wish I could not be...ya know." She pats her belly for emphasis.

Vander turns her around to face him and gives his own 'dad bod' stomach a hearty slap, "You still think I'm attractive despite this ol' sixpack turnin' into, well, this. So what makes you think I don't find you to be the most gorgeous woman I've ever been lucky enough to know eh?"

She cracks a smile now herself, and he tilts her chin up with his knuckles, "You've been doin' better lately, not bein' so hard on yourself. I'm proud of ya for it. But ya gotta keep it up right? I'll keep tellin' ya as many times as needed you're beautiful got it?"

"Thank you, Papa Hound..." she grins, genuinely this time, and steps into his offered hug. Turning back to the mirror, she blows out a breath and holds up the skirt and blouse combo, "This one."

"Perfect," he nods, buttoning up his shirt to her silent disappointment, "Now let's get this show goin'."

After a lovely, relaxing and much-needed date, during which he'd only once; okay maybe twice technically, had to mumble apologies for having to take a moment to break up a dispute, they slowly make their way back towards home when she spies something in a barred store window that she'd normally ignore but today...

Ever observant, he notes her attention focused on something nearby and asks, "Everythin' alright love?"

"Yeah! Yeah just saw something interesting-" she panics but hides it, quickly trying to find anything else to point out and gestures to the food stand next door, "-on the menu! Maybe I'll grab some for the kids tomorrow."

Vander nods, "They'd like that. Better make sure they all get even shares or it'll be a squabble."

She laughs, assuring him she'd be completely fair, and they both continue the trip as she takes one last glance at the items she'd truly been studying...

The next afternoon, she stands in front of the mirror again, this time sporting a very different look. She blushes fiercely with a mixture of embarrassment, disbelief at her own boldness, and a streak of surprise at how well the skanty, black and red lingerie looks on her. Earlier she'd snuck back to her true target from the day before, the clothing shop she'd spotted this little number in the window of and after an awkward purchase where she'd tried to hide her face as much as possible, she'd dashed home to try it on, grateful that Vander was busy and the kids out somewhere. She'd also snapped up a bag of the spicy snacks from the stand next door to keep her cover story intact, and it wasn't completely a lie; she had been thinking of grabbing them a treat anyway.

Now she spins, checking how it looks and imagining the look on Vander's face when she stepped into view wearing...

The self-consciousness creeps back in as she sees how snug the lingerie is, and how her body shape is all the more glaringly evident. She curses herself silently for ever thinking this would work and wasting the money. Sighing, her shoulders droop-

Abruptly there's a rapid knocking on the door coupled with the voices of Mylo and Claggor calling her and talking loudly over each other. She yells to hold on, swiftly changing back into regular clothes. In her rush she curses, looking around before hurriedly stuffing the negligee into the first dresser drawer she sees and hurries out of the room, making a note to return to hide it elsewhere...

-Several hours later, Vander trudges into their shared room, exhausted from the long day and chaos of a fight that had erupted wherein the participants had refused to take it outside-so he'd 'helped' by tossing them out the door, earning them sore backsides and a couple month ban.

He kicks off his boots, then tugs his shirt over his head, tossing it in the pile next to a basket that served as a hamper. Still grumbling and cursing under his breath he slides the top dresser drawer open-

And his eyes widen, brow cocked in surprised curiosity at the garment he finds there that's most certainly not his. He pulls it out, finally realizing what the lacy, gauzy pieces of fabric are as heat rushes to his face-and other areas. How long had she had this? And how would it look on her in person instead of in the lovely, increasingly sinful images running through his head? He exhales in a shudder, feeling the blood quickly rushing downward, stunned at how much of an affect this alone had on him, and was starting to put it back when she walks in with a yawn.

"I swear, if those two have the balls to show up anytime soon I will-"

She halts, seeing him holding the lingerie and flushes fiercely, hand flying to her mouth and mumbling out a jumbled rush of excuses, "Oh! Oh Van I uh, ha, yeah I can explain it-it's just-I was gonna take it back it was j-just an experiment yeah but it doesn't work-I can't-"

In a couple strides he's in front of her, hands on her waist and pulling her against himself, thumbs running over her hips, leaning in and dropping his voice to that low, gruff octave he knew she enjoyed, "But love, ya can't take it back...not after what I may do to you with it..."

"Wait-r-really? You like it?" she sputters, "I mean, the problem is it...doesn't really work for...you know, me..."

Vander draws a deep breath, letting it out in a soft growl and she feels the goosebumps prick her skin from the almost feral gleam in his eyes, "Firstly, what did we talk about yesterday? Secondly..." he pulls her in closer and she gives a groan feeling how hard he already is pressed against her belly, the sound doing nothing to help this, "I think this is good enough proof I like the idea of it on ya, darlin'..and the only problem is you're not gonna be wearin' it for long after ya put it on...now, been a long day yeah? What say we get ready for bed..?"

At last her lingering pain begin to melt away as she sees not just the lust, but the sincere love in his gaze, and the doubt is replaced by a glow of confidence blooming in her chest and she smiles suggestively up at him, "I think that's a perfect idea..."

@mooshroom-cows @archerofthemists @immortalbumblebee @vander-affectionate @barbersjoy @jarlyne @lucklesslongshot @shitfacedanon @katattacker

Sorry if I forgot anyone I'll add as I remember

#arcane fanfiction #arcane vander #arcane vander x reader #vander arcane #ask and you shall receive #mildly spicy #plus size reader #hello friend I hope you like this #I had a lot of fun writing it

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