#with these things that make living my life more complicated

[neoninky]

So today I was binging Bridgerton cuz apparently I’m on a romantic drama spiral 😂 good ol stuffy British romances about rich people and their non-relatable problems 👍

Which has lead me to head canons surrounding a certain group of dashing young men who are basically from a historical drama…

Yes that’s right:

Diasomnia Courtship Head Canons

Featuring Lilia’s three sons (no this is not how I’m going to write them in my story-oh who am I kidding, yes it is 😂)

Tagging peeps for shenanigans: @nuitthegoddess @wysteriadelights @iscarlettappel @foxwitchaine @1ndigowitch @victoria1676

Malleus: The prince and soon-to-be king of Briar Valley, he is naturally expected to find himself a queen and future mother to his heirs. So courtship isn't something that comes as a surprise to him. In fact, it's something he was prepared for since he became old enough to understand what courtship and marriage even were.

For Malleus, this can go one of two ways: 1) if he's being forced to meet and court a some daughter of a noble family that he's not interested in, he'll be…avoidant. In other words, he out poofs away in firefly dust. Once the guards, or Silver and Sebek, OR Lilia, finally hunt him down and force him to show up, Malleus is polite. He goes through all the motions and acts like the perfect gentleman, but anyone who knows him well can see the distant, far-off look of escapism in his eyes.

OR 2) he's not only interested, he is INVESTED. Hoo boy, good luck stopping him from trying to be the only man on this girl's radar. Not only does he perform all the expected etiquette perfectly, Malleus Draconia is the epitome of "down bad". What's her favorite color? Favorite flowers? Does she like music? What's her favorite food??? This man will discover and procure all of it for her faster than lightning. Seven help him if she is (for some reason) not impressed, he'll be crushed. Seven help him if she is impressed and - dare it be so - shows appreciation and affection in return. Smitten doesn't even skim the surface, oof. Malleus Draconia needs to marry her now. His crew will have their hands full trying to help the love-struck royal not come on too strong (too late probably) or rush things too quickly. Either way, once his mind is made up, Malleus only has eyes for his queen.

Silver: Being a human raised primarily around fae folk or even half-fae folk, Silver is familiar with the range of courting rituals that various fae have performed over the years. Human courtship, on the other hand, well…he's a bit lost if not old-fashioned in that department. Mostly because of his lack of human interaction, but also because his father is Lilia. Self explanatory. He doesn't have a preference on fae women vs human/other women, though he understands that fae live far longer than humans so that might complicate things. Regardless, Silver is clumsy when wooing women (or anyone he might be interested in). He has the heart of the very best-boi boy but he can be a bit shy with showing/voicing his feelings at first.

The majority of his life has been dedicated to becoming a worthy knight for Malleus, though his school days allowed him some leisure and fun in between his training. Even so, Silver's bravery and tenacity in battle doesn't translate into romance. In fact, he often suffers from cold feet when faced with a potential crush/love interest. Silver logically knows certain things he can do to show his affection on paper. In action, however, he may need some help practice. Don't even get him started on the anxiety his sleep condition brings him. He gets so nervous about suddenly passing out in front of the girl he wants to romance that it will sometimes make him literally sick (poor guy). Once he FINALLY gets over his nerves and takes action, Silver can make his feelings known. It may be awkward but you won't find another more genuine confession from a guy who looked like he walked out of a fairy tale. Also don't be surprised if an army of woodland creatures was recruited to help out.

If rejected, Silver is nothing if not a man of honor. He sees no point in hounding a woman who isn't interested in him, no matter how much it hurts. If his feelings are reciprocated, the poor man might pass out from joy. If he prepares correctly, Silver drinks enough coffee to keep that from happening. Silver will then exhale in immense relief ask his beloved for an even more romantic date, which he spent at least three days planning out with the help of the other Diasomnia bois. Victory achieved.

Sebek: While Malleus is enthusiastic and full throttle and Silver is charmingly shy/awkward and slow to act, Sebek is somewhere in the middle. This man is and always has been very disciplined in all endeavors. For him, romance will be no different. Sebek Zigvolt has trained since childhood to be Malleus' knight. This is his greatest goal and ambition. Someday his lord will marry and have children, precious little princes and princesses! Naturally, their security and well-being are Sebek's top priority!! As such romance has been put on the back burner through the majority of Sebek's teen years.

Once Sebek sets his sights on courtship and romance, he will not settle for just anyone, no sir. He is a man with taste and standards. You know those girls who write down the traits of their ideal husbands in a list? Sebek is the male equivalent of that. It's not as shallow as it sounds, Sebek just knows what he wants. Granted he started the list when he was about 14 years old cough, so some things do change as he matures. Even so, Sebek is - like Silver - old-fashioned in romance. He knows all the moves: bringing her flowers on the first date, taking her on romantic moonlit walks while also respecting her boundaries and fighting off any hooligans that may threaten her dignity, getting her father's approval, the whole nine yards!

And boy is he prepared. He's actually quite proud - if not smug - of how much research he's put into properly courting a lady. His grandfather made sure to leave books out for him when he was young so of course he grew into an avid reader. Definitely learned a thing or two from romance novels but will not admit it out loud.

Either way, once Sebek finds his dream girl, he already has a strategy all mapped out. If one plan doesn't work, he's got backup plans. If things are going well, Sebek will not rush the courtship, but he will absolutely have the proposal and the wedding (hell, probably the honeymoon too dayum) all planned out in his head. If he somehow misses a detail, his mother and older sister will have at least five to ten different options at the ready to offer him and his lady love.

If for some reason Sebek's affections are rejected, he will put on a strong front…until he gets home/back to Malleus's castle and then he'll just fall to pieces. He's gonna need a grieving period, bless his heart. He will more than likely be a complete wreck until he gets the heartache completely out of his system.

If all goes well and Sebek does successfully get with his dream lady love, pssssh well OF COURSE he did! Was there ever any doubt?! Foolish humans, of course not! (Lies, Sebek definitely has moments of doubt that he covers up with loud outbursts and vigorous training to the point of exhaustion. Thank Seven that it did work out though, whew.)

BONUS:

Chaos ensues any time Lilia tries to make a meal to welcome his new 'daughters' to the family. The boys immediately go into covert ops to stop him from getting into the kitchen, sometimes asking their girlfriends/wives to help distract him or getting Lilia started on a story tangent about his travels, his glory days as a general, anything to keep him talking.

[tarotofbadkitties]

"Tashi loves tennis" is...not my favorite phrase. Not when it's used to mean she doesn't love the men with whom she engages in sexual and romantic relationships and simply uses them as an avatar for her professional desires. The idea a version of Tashi that did not love Art or Patrick slept with them in order to feel close to success has nasty "slept her way to the top" implications for me. This line of reasoning downplays her ability to accomplish making space for herself in tennis without needing to do so through her sexuality. A variety of roles in that world were available to Tashi, none of which required sleeping with Art, much less Patrick. It's much more likely that being Art's wife made it more not less difficult for Tashi to get the respect she deserved from the sports world. There's no such thing as a male-dominated field that respects women more not less for sleeping with powerful men in that industry.

Tashi chose to be with Art because she loved him. She made this decision in spite of the fact it would complicate their coach-athlete relationship and the fact that it would lead to people underestimating her. Tennis is incredibly central to both of their lives; their mutual love of tennis is literally what causes them to fall for each other in the first place. The first time Tashi hears about Art is when she joins the Stanford tennis program and the first time she sees him is when he's playing in the Junior Open. The first time Art sees Tashi is when he's watching her win the Junior Open. The tournament in Cincinnati is where they reunite after college. All of their major relationship landmarks are intertwined with landmarks in their tennis careers because it's a SHARED passion. That shared passion is also what holds them together when other aspects of their life are floundering. It's also what brings Patrick back into their lives repeatedly, because he's out there hanging onto this thing he loves that brings him back to the people he loves too.

[ramonag-if]

Incoming super long rant ask because Chapter 9 was so great and I'm in my feelings about complicated families.

Something that caught me off guard in Chapter 9 was how much my opinion of Siduri has sort of dipped thanks to how she's handled the Salyra stuff. Like, I get that she's both grieving one daughter in law and relieved that her daughter has actually been fine but it feels like there were more than a few instances where she came across as straight up insensitive to MC and Belahm and Zikar.

In particular her whole thing about how maybe she had to lose one daughter to find the other seems so awful to say, especially to Belahm and Zikar?? "It's unfortunate that we had to lose the woman you both loved more than anything, and that your newborn will have to grow up without a mother...but on the bright side we get to reunite with the other woman who either shattered your heart by abandoning us (Belahm), forced you to grow up without a mother or extended family after abandoning you (MC), or means less than nothing to you because she was long gone before you came around and you only know her by the grief she caused (Zikar). Maybe it just had to happen that way so we could all be reunited." I get that it might be the mindset she has to cope with the grief but my gods she doesn't need to say it to the grieving son and husband. Between that and her seemingly believing/expecting that MC and Belahm will have to forgive Salyra eventually, trauma be damned, because ~family~ she's suddenly at the bottom of the Extended Family Rankings.

To be clear, I don't mean that as a complaint, I really like that it adds to her character! And even Salyra's since they seem to mirror each other in how they handle these sort of conflict, sort of equalizing their trauma with everyone involved, and then minimizing it all in an effort to move on and 'heal' ASAP. Sort of an 'out of sight, out of mind' approach, even if they're the only ones wearing blindfolds and everyone else is well aware of it. Meanwhile the rest of the Vinia family is more...realistic? Pragmatic? about it and are able to recognizing that pretending everything is okay =/= healing and that its going to take more than that to get over this, if it's even possible, especially for MC who has two decades worth of trauma that ultimately leads back to Salyra and her choices.

Thank you for the long ask! I don't mind ranting. It's what I live for 😅

I'm glad that the way Siduri handled everything was noticed! It's been stated a few times how she's trying to be strong for Belahm and Zikar because they've just lost someone but she neglects her own grief because it's too painful for her. It's easier to try and show everyone what life could be as a big family in the hopes that it makes them happy.

Siduri will have her breaking point. It's just right now, she's in the denial stage of trying to act like everything is fine when it's really not. I think once Zikar and the MC are off in Chapter 10, she'll be forced to tackle the big question of how she feels with everything and Yara's death, without having to put on a brave face all the time.

I'm glad you liked the chapter! Thank you for your support 💖

[fabledresources]

random twitter prompts !

i am far too mentally ill to be this unpopular on social media.

i’m just a dust particle, i’m not supposed to pay bills.

i woke up again still not a retired millionaire. this is bullshit.

girls aren’t that complicated, just hold our hands, make us laugh, bring us iced coffee and the beating hearts of all those who have wronged us.

my weighted blanket won't let me join your morning hike.

it’s not a situationship, i’m doing an unpaid internship in his heart.

healing isn’t enough. i need my memory erased.

not to be a pathetic loser but i'd spend the rest of my life with you.

wanna spice up date night? harvest his organs!

i don't want to fuck him, i just think "he looks cool" has less impact.

men are so cute when they are openly down bad for their girlfriends.

that's a grown man with dick and balls.

hate remembering that, to my coworkers, I’M the coworker… don’t they know i'm different.

babe are you okay? you haven't said "that's that me espresso" once today..

it hurt me so bad i started studying.

this was $30. should i kill myself?

no soda this summer! i'm only drinking water and pussy juice!!

i love you [name]. i'm going to fucking blow up the whole world for you.

my body is a machine that turns reassurance into more reasons to be concerned.

you gotta eat the dirt for your immune system. your body craves the dirt. stop denying yourself the dirt.

no worries. just gonna bang my head against the wall about it.

imagine dating me because you think i'm pretty, then boom. 83 texts in a row of me begging for attention.

i don’t watch porn. i prefer to fantasize about abstract things like having a brain that lets me enjoy being alive.

women do not want engagement rings. they want engagement heavy plate armor.

you could cry a river and i would build us a raft to float on.

debating if i should continue my healing journey, or go insane.

i was fine, then i started thinking.

some guy commented ‘beautiful’ on your tiktok, so i found out where he lives. do you want food?

very fucked up how eating well and working out regularly actually makes you feel better.

[that-salty-ghost]

As Above, So Below | Chapter 27: Scary Stories | Viktor [Arcane] // Male Reader | Rating: M Throughout

Word Count: ~4.1k Summary: Opening up is spooky Tags: swearing, sexual tension, flirting, little bit o'fluff, mage-y stuff Last Chpt: A Matter of Time

Check my pinned post for more details/previous chapters/etc.

The initial rush of the towel snafu eventually dies down and you get some new bath water running for Viktor while he gathers up the pajamas he picked up from the night market. Two small knocks draw you back towards the door.

"Are you decent?"

"Never."

A small creak follows an exacerbated sigh as he tentatively cracks the door from the other side—a bag of dry clothes emerges slowly through the narrow opening. The flash of metal catches your attention and you find that he's using his cane to nudge the loungewear through. Likely an attempt to keep a safe distance from the entry point...just in case you were, in fact, indecent.

"Excellent technique." You tease as you kneel down to retrieve the pjs—grateful to have something that isn't saturated with river water to change into for the night. You watch with growing amusement as the bottom part of his cane gradually withdraws from the room again, catching the side of the door to pull it shut. "Although maybe a touch unnecessary—I won't bite."

Your head is rustling into the new shirt when his voice comes just outside the room. It's further muffled by the running water and wooden barrier separating you. But is still just coherent enough for you to think that you heard him say, "That's disappointing."

"OhhhHH?" You half laugh and can hear him chortle on the other side. "I suppose," You start, relying on the limited experience you had at the brothel to coax you through your response and keep your voice steady, "if you ask nicely...I could make an exception."

The pause that follows makes you wonder if you had misheard him. Instinctively you want to fill the silence to lighten the uneasy air you've just created. You inhale before opening your mouth to speak, but thank whatever god is watching this shitshow you kept quiet just a little longer than Viktor did.

"Tempting offer."

His less-than-passive approach to flirting teases the thought into your mind. And although his quip may simply just be that—something to joke with, you can't help but wonder if this was an attempt at testing the waters of hypothetical happenings.

When you open the door, you find Viktor leaning comfortably against the frame. Arms crossed with an easy-going grin; his eyes meet yours fondly before looking on at your new attire. As you move to trade places with the other man, his eyes remain fixed on your form as you pass. Walking makes you realize that the fabric of the shorts tends to pull up a little more than you're used to and you habitually tug at the hem to leave some room for imagination.

It clearly doesn't go unnoticed when you hear Viktor mutter a playful, "Very...tempting." before closing the door behind him.

Once you're back in the living area, you decide that one of the armchairs seems like a good choice to settle your heart rate back down before you collapse or die or both at this rate. The emerald green velvet lays smooth against your palms as you take a seat, warming yourself by the crackling fire that Viktor previously stoked back to life and watching the snow fall just outside the window.

Getting comfortable, you prop your legs up on the footrest and for the first time in ages it hits you.

There is nothing you need to do right now.

Nowhere you need to be. No early shift at the coffeehouse, no late-night trade or hustle tonight. Just...this. It's a rare thing, to have free time. And to be honest, you're not quite sure what to do with it. So, you stay still. Absent-mindedly watching the snow continue its decent from the hazy sky.

Which—you had to admit—is a strange thing for you to do.

You've had a complicated relationship with the cold since you were forced to survive it. Training in the tundra for your father, curling up into nothing more than an alcove to protect yourself from the wind and snow—not exactly your happiest memory.

Still, you can't deny that the sight outside is mesmerizing. Blankets of white layer the rooftops and sidewalks, slithering and serpentine through the streets as the breeze picks up. The wind brings an ache to the old building, forcing a whistle from its walls as the storm builds. The sound makes you instinctively rub a hand over your arm to self-soothe, reminding yourself that you're indoors. You're warm. You're safe.

...But you can't sit idle like this for much longer.

You decide to walk it off by exploring the room, taking in the temporary change of scenery you get to enjoy for the evening. The sound of steady dripping moves your attention to the sopping wet towel that gave Viktor a show not long ago, drawing a light hearted scoff from you before peering at the books in the small reading nook. One in particular catches your eye enough for you to pull it from the shelf.

The cover image of a ghastly lighthouse in the midst of an eerie sea fits the tattered binding and dogeared pages all too well—showing clear signs that it has been thoroughly enjoyed over the years.

"Must be good." You mumble to yourself before taking it with you back to the armchair.

It's been a while...you struggle to remember the last time you used a book for leisure rather than for learning a new skill or trade.

And as if the pages themselves knew that truth, they lure you in effortlessly.

The detailed descriptions of a worn home with haunted happenings in and around it paints vivid images in your mind as you absorb line after line. The cries of cliffs in the story nearly mirrors the whistling winds just outside your own window and before you know it, you're hooked—entirely engulfed in another world until the sights and sounds of your own are all but drowned out.

The cozy room that you're in is quickly exchanged for a weathered house by the sea. A lit cityscape in the undercity traded for a vast ocean of black—illuminated intermittently by the spinning beam of the lighthouse's beacon. Noises of trickling bath water replaced by ruthless crashing waves...and then a creaking door closing just downstairs in the old house—alerting you that someone was inside.

Your heart beats faster as you eagerly turn the page.

Your sight was limited in the dark dwelling, but you had a sinking feeling that you weren't alone. Hearing no footsteps but opening the door to see the fresh, muddy stains of footprints that weren't there before you entered. Someone had walked the halls without you knowing.

Without you seeing.

Something was hiding in the darkness of this house just down the hall from you—stalking silently like a wraith in the night.

...patiently watching

...waiting...

"Reading?"

"FUHHACCKK!" You practically jump out of the chair, startled to your core when Viktor's voice jolts you out of the book that is now tumbling onto the floor. "Ohhh...hell." You breathe out as you rub your eyes, gradually recovering from the fright pounding in your chest.

"Hello to you too." Viktor is laughing quietly, retrieving the fallen novel for you while you try to return your soul back to your body. "I take it you didn't hear me coming?" His voice is maddeningly calm and for the life of you it feels purposeful.

Slack jaw and holding the back of your neck with one hand, your eyes are focused entirely on the ceiling while you try to come back down from the jump. "Now what gave you that idea." While the response is sarcastic it doesn't disturb Viktor's clear entertainment from scaring you in the slightest.

When you finally level your gaze again you find him browsing the first few pages, nodding periodically while he speed-reads to see what you were so engulfed in. As he pages through, a small smile tugs more and more at his lips—quietly deducing that he found the particularly spooky encounter that you must've been reading when he startled you.

But while he's busy with that, your eyes unwittingly start to drift down and over his chest. It's difficult not to admire the small droplets of water falling from his damp hair onto the angular shoulders below. Let alone how the loose-fitting material of his shirt drapes low on his neck, leaving his collarbones and the notch in between them deliciously visible.

The slightest sign of tautness pulling in his shoulder holds your attention again as he turns another page. The motion causing slight tension in the muscle above his clavicle, making the small dip in between even more prominent. A single droplet of water from chestnut locks drips torturously onto it. Taunting you by tracing over his collarbone slowly as it trickles down and all you can do is bite back the urge to lick your lips like a goddamned starved animal.

"You like it?"

His question causes you to cut yourself off before your knee jerk answer of 'absolutely' even graces your lips—a concerted effort to prevent a repeat of misusing that word again. And to ensure you're responding to him with the correct context in tow.

"The book—you mean do I like the book?"

"Yes, the book..." The rising intonation at the end of his sentence turns his statement into a question. His curious mind shows through with a downward tilt of his head, as if a better look at you would help him better decipher what else you could be referring to.

"I do. Fell right into it."

Your words draw a grin out of Viktor as he holds the book out towards you. "So, I noticed." His grip loosens around the novel and you catch an impish quirk in his eyebrow before he turns to work on the fire.

Your eyes follow curiously as he crouches down—his cane resting against the wall as outstretched fingers wrap easily around each piece of firewood. You never thought such simple movements could be so graceful, it catches you up a bit as he speaks again.

"It's endearing, you know."

"What's that?" You wonder as he stokes an iron rod into the smoky chamber. Slowly the cinders are fed the new kindling—becoming a blaze within the stove.

"That you can become so immersed in a piece of literature that way." He smiles to himself as he nurses the flames back to life, a satisfied tone carrying his voice all the while. "There is, ah—" a tired grunt escapes him as he lifts himself off of the floor to stride towards chair across from you. "—a certain amount of passion necessary to elicit that kind of response."

'Or a perpetual game of cat and mouse that is trauma and escapism.' Your intrusive thoughts are doing you no favors, but you keep that to yourself. Choosing instead to enjoy the way Viktor is talking to you—about you.

Choosing instead to get to know the man sitting fireside with you.

"Is there anything that does that for you? Something that takes you miles away?"

"I could...name a few things," He pauses, considering his words as lax fingertips trace directionless patterns into the velvet arm of the chair. "Though I admit, the best one is currently seated quite handsomely in front of me."

The warmth of his smile matches the very hearth fire roaring between you. You can't stop the sly grin slowly curling on your lips—his choice of words catching your attention well.

"You think I'm handsome?"

"I think you're incredibly handsome."

He doesn't even hesitate. And despite the vulnerability of his answer, Viktor's voice doesn't falter for a second. He's certain. Confident. Like he needed you to hear this. "I wanted to tell you at R&R's, but there was an...interruption."

You recall the moment—he had started a sentence similar to this, but was cut off by the drunkard outside the bar. 'For what it's worth, [Y/n]...I think you're incredibly ha—'

He did need you to hear him...because you didn't the last time—the first time rather.

"I was wondering what you were going to say."

He leans forward slightly, resting his forearms heavily on his knees as his eyes light up. "What were your theories?"

Who are you to deny his curiosity? You recall the various possibilities of what could've been and report back in no specific order.

"Hm...Harrowing?"

"Couldn't be further from the truth." The abruptness of his response—he doesn't leave room for debate on that and nods his head up towards you to continue. "What else?"

"Hammered."

That one makes him chuckle. "You forget we did successfully climb a flight of stairs—allow us some credit."

"Climb is a bit of a stretch." You reply, amused as you recount the struggle. "Stumbled maybe."

"Semantics." Viktor dismisses your criticism with a fluttered wave, a grin spreading across his face as he fails to hide how much he's enjoying trying (and failing) to cover up just how sloppy you both were. "Anyway. You were saying."

You rest your hand against your temple, getting comfortable again as you answer him with your last hypothesis.

"Hard to read."

"Mm. Incredibly." While you're surprised to hear it, you simultaneously understand. You don't exactly wear your emotions on your sleeve, let alone allow anyone to get too close most of the time. "But, admittingly—it's a trait of yours that I'm quite drawn to."

"Don't like 'em easy, huh?" You joke and watch as he sits back but notice him trying to roll his wrist out again once he moves his cane over. Your eyes narrow to get a better view, brows furrowing when you remember he had done a similar motion after rowing the boat...and after tripping the cutpurse up with his cane.

"Now where's the fun in that?" He chirps back until he catches you eyeing his reaction. With a shake of his head and flex of his fingers, he dismisses the worry that bore into your expression with a quick, "I'm fine."

"You're incredibly fine." Your lips twitch upwards at the corner as you find your own confidence to finally hit on the other man with some fluidity before continuing. "You still have that old salve on you?"

You watch him bite the grin pulling on his lower lip when he hears you flirt, happily taking a pause to soak it in before acknowledging your question. "The one night I forgot it." He mechanically reaches for a pocket that doesn't exist or house the container in question.

"Bringing that backpack throw you off?" You make your way over to the bedside table, Viktor watching closely as you snag the balm you brought.

"Evidently. What are you...?"

His sentence trails off when you hand the small tin of cardamom salve you made over to him. You watch as his thumb ghosts over the triangle crossed with a diagonal line carved cleanly into the lid.

"I see your engraving skills have improved." Viktor teases before he opens it, eyes softening when he recognizes the familiar aroma. "You...carried on your mother's craft?" His eyes meet yours, warm and curious. But you can't tell if he's referring to the alchemy or the arcane.

"In my own way." You pause as you move to lean on the top of his chair. "It's not quite the same as hers. Close, but hers had more uh...oomph—I s'pose." It's tricky to word and you stop yourself before trying to explain yourself better.

From what you gathered he only knew that your mother was a mage. But you still weren't positive if he actually knew that you were as well. You also weren't sure if that was something that would scare him given that you're alone in a hotel room together. Miles from home no less.

He studies you silently until something ignites his thoughts.

"Your own way...?" He tilts his head inquisitively up at you, seeming to stop himself from saying more as well as he hands the salve back. Absent-mindedly he flicks his wrist up with a small 'pop' and now you're positive that he must've hurt it during the scuffle with the cutpurse.

But why wouldn't he admit that?

In that moment you realize that for one reason or another, he was holding something back too. Both of you were. And from the way he hums to himself and shifts his sights to the floor, it looks like he realizes it as well.

"We've got some decent walls up, don't we?"

Seemingly grateful for your speculation, Viktor huffs with raised brows. "It appears that we do." His honeyed eyes catch yours before he speaks again. "Maybe we can chip away at those together."

"Hm." You grin again at his remark, it sounds so nice when he says it. Still, you had to admit the notion was scarier than any ghost story you've picked up.

But you've been running around like this for years. Moving through your life with your guard up and your head down. With a wraith of your own haunting the halls of your mind every step of the way. To keep you quiet—keep you complacent.

So that you move through your days as covert as possible, lest you draw any more attention to yourself. Hardly a second where you're not keeping busy creating something, working for something, working toward something.

Always something.

Anything.

Anything as long as it put some distance between you and the resounding baggage that your family name hogtied you with. As long as it kept your mind busy. Too busy to really think about anything else.

If you were being honest with yourself, it's a tiring way to live.

And also, a lonely one.

There's a good bit of risk in this that can't be denied, but maybe...just maybe Viktor could be someone you didn't have to wear the mask around—didn't have to hide away from. After all, your mother didn't seem to think so...right?

You inhale.

Exhale.

"Alright." You give him the go ahead—your heart pounding hard at the thought of what comes next—unrelentingly so when Viktor takes his first swing.

"If you're sure..." He starts, "When you say 'your own way'—ehh..." You can tell he's trying to be selective with his words even though you know exactly where this is going. "Does that also mean...?" His sentence trails off and it looks like he considers letting his implication speak for itself. But something has him shake that off, choosing to reword his question despite whatever had him pause. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

Curious, golden eyes find yours as you move to take a seat on the footrest in front of him. "If you're hurt I could...show you." Viktor cocks a brow as you sit slightly below him now, holding your hand out for him to take. "Can I have a look?" You motion towards his wrist and watch as he pieces together what you're asking.

He nods slowly, quietly admitting to an injury as he lays his hand in yours. It's a small thing, but you recognize it—exposure. That acknowledgement wasn't easy. He's taking a risk trusting you too—letting you chip away at him while he does the very same.

And while this entire exchange has the makings to intimidate you half to death, the warmth and weight that fills your palm once Viktor's hand is in yours is all you need to ease your mind and work the very trade that your mother once taught you.

The muscles around his lean forearms twitch lightly as you press your fingers along the tendons and ligaments lining his carpals. You feel him tense up when you find inflammation near his thumb and visualize how the joints move together as you dip your fingers into the balm.

"Is this okay?" You ask as you rub the salve between the pads of your fingers, feeling small trickles of electricity move through you as you try to channel your abilities.

He nods with a soft smile. "Exceptionally okay."

You recognize those words immediately, it's difficult not to. His direct reference to your peculiar, tongue-tied response to him at The Last Drop gives you pause. Your response to when he had held your hand to deter the creep from hitting on you further. A solution you were all too eager to participate in.

The familiar feeling of comfort laced with excitement begins to stir in you as you recognize how familiar this moment with him is. You wonder if he's picked up on it too—by the way he's watching you, you imagine that he does. A shiver runs up your spine as the tips of your fingers begin to tingle from the arcane coming through for you, making itself comfy in your nerve endings as you adjust to the new sensations it brings.

"You remember that, huh?" You smile crookedly while you relive your awkward reply, secretly enjoying how Viktor says it. The other man only lets his smile grow wider, studying the way you move his arm and examine him.

"I remember how badly I wanted to keep holding your hand..."

That little squeeze that he gave you just before he had let go...you had wondered if the gesture was intentional. Like he had tried to memorize the moment—attempted to capture it in the very palm of his hand...and in yours.

"And now?" You glance up at him, wondering if this small, similar instance was something he found himself clinging onto as well.

Quietly, calmly—Viktor curls his pinky and ring finger over your thumb. He stays that way for only a second until you feel it. The same gentle squeeze that you remember from before. When he relaxes his hand again you can feel new energy surging through your veins, dancing with your adrenaline before you settle the static in your mind and fingers. After a moment you're able to reestablish the concentration he's all but shot dead into the ground and focus on the task in hand...at hand. Fuck.

Whatever, you're just trying not to short circuit and accidentally kill the man at this point.

"I hope that answers your question."

"Just uh...try to stay still for me."

He lets you lay his forearm onto your knee but not without muttering a small "Of course." Or without biting back a snarky grin at your swift deflection.

As you leverage your hand under Viktor's to stabilize you both, he shifts in his seat to get more comfortable. Gradually leaning closer and closer, you force yourself not to think on the proximity for too long.

You're forcing yourself not to think on a lot of things right now.

Like the similarities this moment shares with the start of that vivid dream you had barely two nights ago. You definitely try to forget that.

Try to concentrate on the warmth of the salve melting onto your free hand rather than how Viktor's pulse quickens under your touch. Try to ignore how perfectly his hand seems to fit in yours. Try to zero in on his anatomy rather than your chemistry so you don't fuck this up.

...You're trying.

Viktor remains silent and unmoving but you can feel his gaze burning through you when you start to rub your thumb against your fingertips until they warm up, practically humming with energy now. With a breath in you flick the side of your index finger against your thumb, a similar motion to igniting a lighter...all the way down to taking a couple of tries to get the damn thing to work.

When small flecks of blue and white electric light stutters from them, you mutter a small "Sorry—" before momentarily moving the hand you had under Viktor's out. He watches intently as you roll two fingers up your veins, trying to move any residual magic that might've gotten trapped.

"It's like a high cholesterol for a mage—when we don't practice, shit gets...stuck..." You're half-explaining why you look so weird right now and half-muttering to yourself, but finally you feel like you have a handle on your control. The magic feels a little more erratic than you'd like, but you've made do with worse. If you could get the godsdamned butterflies out of your stomach you're sure you could stabilize it even more.

Easy, right?

Before you start, it finally hits that you just did all of this in front of a live audience. Curiosity kills the cat and you glance up to check the other man's reaction. And relief washes over you when you find that he isn't afraid in the slightest.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

----------

A/N:

Shoutout to @thehistoriangirl for being cool with having The Tides Have Veiled be the book pulled from the shelf that y/n is reading--if you haven't read her fic yet it's incredible, go to it <3 As always thank you for just being the kindest and most patient humans/readers with this, I know updates are lengthy af so please know I just appreciate all of you and am glad this is something folks still enjoy/come back to. 

Also season two is just around the corner! I'm going back and forth on how far into the future this fic should go and that's giving me plot paralysis so hopefully I figure that out soon send prayers. Thank you again for reading and I hope y'all have a great weekend!

-Ghost

[undeadbutch]

some thoughts abt the things i attach to my identity

[moggettt]

HERE IT IS!! after Many moons of chipping away at this OC song comic for my scifi-noir android character Whitney and his bodyguard Bast, it is finally as complete as it shall ever be;; I’m proud of the work I put into this one! Pretty niche, but maybe some folks out there will enjoy UuU

ps: there's also a video for easy viewing!

[touchlikethesun]

okay so. don’t crucify me. but su she and jin guangyao do actually make some pretty compelling points.

[numbaoneflaya]

@summer-solemnly-swears sometimes yeah :/ I’ll imagine or write cute little scenes and shit but eventually again I’m like hmm.. well what if she was going through the horrors again . Anime monologue in the tags as usual

[binders-and-beanies]

Pondering bottom surgery in the tags I mf guess

[itspileofgoodthings]

do y’all wanna know something funny. when I was in England I accidentally stumbled into finding my sister a boyfriend via @ilovevanillatea and her husband and it is something that has been so funny and good.

[holyviolence]

omg i spent the whole day cleaning my entire apartment because my family was coming to visit and 1) so so so happy my adhd is being medicated now it's literally changing my life and 2) i FINALLLY got through to my dad about how he probably has ADHD too!!!!! he finally said Yeah i think i might have adhd. and my mom was like Me too (we've had this talk privately before, she knows she has adhd too lol) And my brother is literally transferring to a different school because he can't concentrate and isn't disciplined at his current uni. adhd family.

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

A controversial thought just occurred to me that I've tried to put into words many times now about my hero (Janis Joplin) and other musicians and people who died "tragically" (especially in a "self-inflicted" way), and that is: every time I see someone online, on Youtube or Facebook or wherever, say something (always unprompted/unrelated to what the video/photo/article/etc. is about) along the lines of, "What a waste of their talent/skill their death was," I think, What a waste their death was? What have you said of their life? Why do you only choose to comment on, and apparently highlight, their death? Did their life, and their accomplishments, and what they brought to the world while they were alive mean nothing to you? Have you not a SHRED of gratitude that they were alive at all?

I am quite sure that there is some sort of psychological explanation (and I say that with the confidence of only having a basic understanding of psychology) for why people focus particularly on people's (in this case, celebrities') "tragic" deaths, but is it not a tragedy in itself to reduce those people's lives to their deaths and the fact that they're dead? Why not appreciate what they were able to share with us while they were here? You know?

[lesbienneanarchiste]

That Time Of The Month usually refers to menstruation but for me it's the day(s) my mom decides to tackle the bills in the most passive-aggressively confrontational way and my dad decides to be the most inefficient whiny martyr on earth who acts like we're oppressing him by asking questions about what charges are bc he doesn't tell anyone anything even tho he is not the one doing the bills every month.

[nomaishuttle]

i do fr need to work on differentiating between "actually middleclass" and "doesnt live paycheck to paycheck" lmao bc that is something i struggle with... obviously ik i have more in common with like. even somebody whos fr middleclass disney vacations every year. I know i have more in common with them than i do with bezos but god at least i dont have to see bezos being annoying in front of me every day KJANDJKLNLJD

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...