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sihakadan · 1 year

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Firelight

Yeah, so I found the lumen au from @meliapis and I also saw this and was like, yeah, bet my dudes. @maraozdrawsfanart for you buddy🎁@vastaya-simp I was inspired by some of your head cannons, hope you don't mind.

🦇Scar x gn!AFAB Reader (no specific pronouns)

🦺SFW, only warning is that is will be long and probably full of mistakes because I am a goofy goober.

Part 1 of ?

///You///

You were 13 when the ball of dark purple and blue light appeared, floating around your head as if curious about it's new friend. None of the other kids you hung around knew what it was and you had no parents to guide you. Shimmer had stolen them, like most of the children on the streets.

The light should have frightened you, made you wary, but it had a calming affect on you. It was also really cute, with little ears like a bat. And you didn't have to feed it, so it didn't trouble you. All it did was follow you, hide in your hair and chase after those who even looked at you funny.

You found work as a runner for the brothels and other establishments, earning meals and a safe place to sleep. Some of the workers took pity on you, buying you clothes, letting you use their personal baths to clean up. Smelly children drove clients away.

One of the workers, a woman named Clara, took notice of the little ball of light and cooed loudly. "Oh look at that, a lumen! You have a soul mate!"

In confusion, you held your little 'friend' in your hands and tilted your head. "A what?"

She laughed, waving her cigarette around with the movements of her hands, making the smoke waft into your face. "My sweet little petal. A lumen! It means out there in this cold, awful world is someone waiting for you." In a softer and kinder tone, she added: "And hold it close. You don't know how lucky you are."

And that was all the information you got about it and it was overwhelming to a 13 year old from the streets of Zaun. A soulmate sounded bigger than life at this age and what if you never found them? What if they didn't like you? What if they died before you met them? Would you lose your little friend too? Oh...what if they were a Piltie? You shivered. Pompous gilded vipers.

Cradling the lumen to your chest, you made a quiet promise that you would protect it.

///Scar///

His didn't appear until much later and your lumen was bright. At least at first. It almost shimmered as it ran over his arms, his hands, his ears. It liked to stay very close to him, which he never minded, but you seemed to be very touchy. He always felt like he was being held or kissed on.

When it first appeared, it was night time and he had been sitting with Ekko up in the tree, listening to him make plans about raiding some warehouse for food. If the smaller boy hadn't been there, he would have fallen to his death.

"Whoa, shit man! Is that what I think it is?" Ekko steadied him, slowly letting him go after he made sure Scar wasn't going to fall out of the tree.

It was, it really was. He wasn't mad or scared, not even annoyed. But he was shocked. He had a soul mate? And it was only now appearing?

"Well?" Ekko gave him a look. "Come on man, say or do something!" This was a big deal and so special. Ekko would have been elated to get his own.

"Bright." Was all Scar said, blinking a couple times, moving his head away as you lumen tickled his ears.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Ekko watched as it inspected Scar and then him, but it wasn't as interested in Ekko. Obviously.

Scar shrugged and sighed as the lumen ran head first into a firelight, knocking the poor thing back and the bug out of the sky. Well, at least he wouldn't be bored.

The kids in the hide out loved your lumen and it let them chase it around, but was never too far from Scar. Every now and then it would return to him and the light would flutter, as if communicating with him. What was he supposed to do with it? Talk to it? He really had no idea.

But then one night, the light faded, very quickly and it laid on his pillow, unmoving. Scar feared the worst and ran for Ekko, unsure of who else to turn to.

Ekko rubbed the sleep from his eyes and bent down, looking at it. "Maybe they're hurt?" He looked up at Scar and regretted saying that immediately. It made the tall chirean pace. "Well, do you even interact with it?"

"How?" Scar wanted to know. What was he supposed to do with this little ball of bright light that followed him everywhere and teased his ears?

Ekko sighed and hung his head. That was what the problem was. "Dude, you have act like you want it. You can touch it, hold it, talk to it." He held his hands out towards the lumen. "It looks depressed."

Scar scratched his head and gave Ekko a puzzling look, but he didn't argue with him. Gently, he scooped up the lumen and cradled it in his large hands and he suddenly became nervous that he might crush it. As soon as he made contact with it, the light flickered a bit brighter.

"See, it just wanted you." Ekko yawned and playfully smacked Scar's arm. "Now don't wake me up again." And then his friend drug himself back to his bed.

Scar just sat on the bed, the lumen in his hands, flickering a bit brighter and brighter slowly. Like he was petting a kitten, he gently stroked the lumen and it spun almost like it was happy. Uh. So all he had to show it affection? Or just acknowledge it? No one had really told him about that. Just what a lumen meant.

He wasn't a very sappy guy, but the fact the lumen wanted his attention so bad kind of made him melt a bit. Laying down and getting comfortable, all while cradling your lumen, he took a deep breath and placed it under his chin, safely tucking it. The lumen nuzzled against him and he chuckled softly. "Good night, my firelight." He whispered to it, but really, he hoped you could hear it too.

///You///

Your little friend loved your hair and would hide in it often, but it had a really good hiding place in your hooded vest. When you got older, you turned to actual running. Which meant that you smuggled packages from drop point A to drop point B. Nothing more or less.

You had to be fast, smart, and sly and getting caught was not an option. For an even further amount of security, you wore a mask and different clothes while you worked. No one knew what you did but you had a comfortable life, at least, for a Zaunite.

The lumen was very handy in certain situations and it became a partner of sorts. You even knew what certain flickering meant. Fast- danger. Slow- coast is clear. X amount of rapid blinks- how many enforcers. Thanks to your little friend, you managed to stay out of trouble. It made you really good at what you did.

The want to leave Zaun and Piltover before it exploded was a drive to save so much of your money and live under your means, but something also told you not leave. That you had to stay here. Maybe it was the lumen and the way it seemed to almost pout when you put the money away or look at maps of where you could go.

You just couldn't leave when you had the chance. So you'd take more jobs and while you never knew what were in the packages (you'd be stupid to look), you knew your work was going to get you into some kind of trouble one day.

But the other choices of work were not any better. Brothels, mercs, or shimmer; that was all that was left in this forsaken city. You did what you could without being too much on the radar. However, someone was hiring your service to smuggle things for a Piltie scientist or that was what you assumed. You never saw your clients.

The lumen didn't like this job at all and tried to push your hand away when you reached for the package, whirling around and trying to lead you away.

"Come on, stop that. If we don't get moving, we'll draw attention." You softly grabbed it and tucked it into its usual spot in your hood and made sure your mask was still on. The strap was starting to wear out and you'd have to replace it soon.

It stopped but you could almost feel the pouting. "Yeah, well, the pay is good." You muttered and tucked the package into your pack and then climbed up the pipe towards the roof tops. Got to be fast, you had a short window before the enforcers would be patrolling by the other drop point.

"Hang on my little love." You sniffed before taking off in a full sprint, going roof to roof, scaling buildings, dropping into alleys, staying out of sight and mind. You had to stop a couple times, as you swore you heard some sort of whirling around you, but when you would look, nothing was there. No, you were being followed, you could feel it.

"Oh, shit." You breathed, panting, looking around. Out of the corner of your eye you could see streaks of green, like lights flashing in a blink of an eye. You felt your lumen press against your neck and your hand went instinctively to your neck, cradling it. "No, no. Stay in there. I got this." You whispered, taking off again. You had your ways.

///Scar///

Your lumen was tucked away in his collar safely, but it didn't seem to want to be there at this very moment, when he need it to be the most.

This runner was moving shimmer, a fair amount of it. It didn't matter if they knew it or not, it had to be stopped.

Ekko, Scar, and a couple of the others had set up the runner after watching the drop points for months now. It had been a very well thought out and meticulous plan on Ekko's part, since this runner was incredibly good at their job.

Once again, the lumen tried to leave the collar and carefully he clapped his hand over it, growling a warning. No. No, stop. It was going to blow their cover and he gritted his teeth. Maybe he should have stayed behind.

Ekko gave the signal and made the first swoop in, effectively tripping the runner with a swipe to the legs. They weren't down for long. And man, they were really fast.

A good roll and they were dropping down into a tight alley, running towards some old tunnels that had once been used as some black market, before the enforcers shut it down.

"Cut them off!" Ekko's distorted voice called out and the others went in, trails of lime green following them.

Gripping his spear, Scar broke off from the rest, knowing there was a man hole that dropped right down in the path of this runner. He could get them and stop the delivery.

As soon as the man hole appeared, he jumped off his board and slid to a stop, grabbing it from the air, and used the spear to pry the lid up, tossing it out of the way. With his sensitive hearing, he could hear the echoes of boots running in the tunnels, followed by the whirling of hover boards. Quickly he jumped down and stalked forward a bit, smirking under his mask as the sounds got closer and closer.

He must've looked so terrifying in the dim light, with that mask, the metal claws, his lumbering height, because the runner skid to a stop and almost fell over themselves, cursing.

They weren't very big, but they were quick. Scar knew better than to underestimate what they could do. The lumen against his neck again struggled, making him growl menacingly, the sound vibrating through the tunnel.

///You///

Shit, shit, shit!

No matter how many twists, tricks, and turns you made, they seemed to be right on your heels and then there was the big one- mask like a skeletal bat or rat, tall and that spear in a clawed hand-Janna help you.

When you stopped, you almost fell forward, catching yourself barely and you froze in place, keeping your eyes on this terrifying figure. That look was purposeful and you were almost impressed, if it wasn't you that it was being used against. The growl they let out even frightened you more.

"Stop!" You almost turned around, but fear of taking your eyes off the big one stopped you. The lumen in your hood edged forward and you blocked it from leaving. No, if it came out, you could lose it.

Taking off the satchel, you tossed it at the masked figure behind you, keeping both them and the big one in your sights. "You can have it, just let me go!" You'd have to leave, immediately. The client could send someone after you, your reputation would be tarnished. You had enough money.

The owl masked figure walked forward and snatched the satchel, watching you for a moment before backing away while opening the satchel and inspecting the package.

"Who are you people?" You looked at all the masks, the paint covered clothes, the amazing boards they rode on.

No one answered you and it made you even more unnerved. But panic rose as your little friend escaped and flew out of your hood, flashing bright.

"No!" You shouted and tried to catch it but it flew towards the large figure, who was also struggling with something in his hands.

"Wait!" The owl mask shouted, dropping the satchel and walking towards both you and the big one. "Let it go!"

They looked up at the owl mask and then at you, confused when the purple and blue lumen began to circle their hands. No, wait, what did that mean? You didn't understand what these blinks meant.

"Let it go." Owl mask repeated, holding his hand up at you to stop you from doing anything.

Slowly, the clawed hands opened and the brightest ball of light flew straight up and then over to you, acting like it was looking you over.

"Oh!" One of the others gasped and moved forward. Now you were freaked out.

"What's happening?" You asked as your little friend bumped into the brighter lumen and a large flash of light made you jump. You tried to grab it, but it avoided you to nuzzle the other lumen. "Oh." This was it, wasn't it? That was your lumen, who followed-

Just moments ago you were scared out of your wits, running for your life, sure these people were going to kill you. That who ever was behind that terrifying mask was going to kill you. But, this was them. Your soul mate.

Who ever they were, was frozen in place and staring right at you. Both of your faces were obscured and stuck in a damp, musty tunnel. It was not a good first impression.

"This just got complicated." Another masked person said. "Maybe we should take them back?"

Back? Back where? You felt a soft caress on your cheek and you knew it was the lumen, trying to calm your nerves. You had never seen it so bright before. "I don't-"

Before you could finish your sentence, the owl mask reached into one of they're pockets and pulled out what looked like a blind fold. "You need to come with us."

Oh, that was bold. "Oh I do? You're going to just chase me down and frighten me and now I'm coming over for tea?" You looked at them all. "Are you for real?"

"Look-" They pointed at the lumens, going from you to the tall one and circling around one another. "Things just changed. Do you want to fight us when they're doing that? You really want to fight him?" They pointed at the tall one. Him. They pointed at him. Well, that was one thing you knew about him, that and he was really tall.

You'd have to take off your mask and you could feel the emotion coming off of the big boy. He was in shock or despair. Or both. You were too, this was crazy.

"Damn it." You muttered, pushing your hood back and undoing the clasp of the mask, groaning when the strap actually snapped. This was a great first meeting.

///Scar///

There was no way. The runner was his soul mate? It made sense why the lumen was acting up and trying so hard to get out of his collar but of all the ways to meet you, this was not ideal.

You were also their target, so now what were they going to do? If Ekko hadn't stepped in, he'd still be staring at you, dumbfounded.

When you pushed back your hood and your mask fell off, his heart jumped into his throat. There was no way that you were his soul mate. You were just beyond beautiful to him. Even the way you were looking at all of them with mistrust was just attractive to him. Was this how it was supposed to be or were you just really good looking?

After securing the blind fold, Ekko nodded at him. Scar just stood there, looking between you and him, as if pleading to not make him pick you up. He didn't think he could handle it right now.

"You're the strongest one. Pick 'em up." He nudged Scar and finally, he had to snap out of it and do something.

"Wait, pick who-?" Whatever you were saying turned into a yelp as he scooped you up and awkwardly held you for a second before getting on his board. "Why didn't anyone warn me?" You were terrified and he got that, but his ears twitched at the pitch.

Ekko put his hands on his head and exhaled, the mask obscuring what ever expression he had on his face. "Come on, we have to figure this out."

#arcane firelights #arcane #arcane scar #arcane ekko #lumen au #arcane lumen #arcane netflix #scar arcane #arcane bat guy #bat dude arcane #arcane chirean #scar x reader #arcane x reader #i wrote this a 3 am #i will probably reread it and cringe later

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fidgetspringer-art · 12 days

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✧ The Ardal stars ✧

#artists on tumblr #art #illustration #digital art #digital drawing #dnd #dungeons and dragons #homebrew #original art #my art #my ocs #Setting: Heim #I drew these a couple of years ago now i think #but since i'm drawing stuff for this setting again i'm reuploading with updated information cause the last one is outdated #I will say right off the bat however #If you compare my designs to already existing IPs i will block you on sight #the last time i posted these they got compared to a piece of media i really dislike #and that comment alone made me fall out of love with this setting for almost two years #so please. do not. it's rude and unnecessary #These are the artefacts my setting and its story is largely centered around #Tethry is credited with creating them (Even though he didn't)#They were gifted by Tethry to each of the largest cities in the world to serve as power generators supplying arcane power to the whole city #immediately pushing the four sister cities into prosperity and progress. leaving literally everyone else in the dust #which caused some understandable tension between countries that already had a bit of a strained relationship to begin with #There is SO MUCH to these little trinkets and their link to Tethry and how finding them essentially fucked up his whole entire life #You'd think becoming the world's most renowned arcanist would be the best thing that ever happened to an aspiring caster #but to some poor dude just trying to study arcane language. stumbling across the magical equivalent of the demon core #was very much not on his wishlist #especially not dealing with the consequences of trying to make sure no one actually realises how nasty they have the potential to be #which. someone inevitably does

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regulus-regent · 2 years

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#MY HAND SLIPPED #oozaru mask inspiration came from that bat dude in Arcane #he kinda reminds me of vegeta in a way and I just couldn't pass that up #ms;

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aardvark-123 · 8 months

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~How Minh Reclaimed the Sword of Fire from the Castle of Burning Steel~

Many years in the future, in the sundered realm of Massachusetts, the people of a small steading near the eastern coast had come into danger. To their aid came Lady Minh the Dauntless of the Order of the Minute, riding hard upon her fiery yellow steed.

"Every girl's dream! Every girl's dream! Oh, &$@% off," spat Minh, kicking the refurbished Giddyup Buttercup in the shin. "Stupid tiny metal and plastic horse, everything aches down there."

In spite of the... disagreement with her noble steed, Sir Minh came anon to Finch Farm, where the local headman, Abraham of Finch, beseeched her for aid.

"Ours was a happy, peaceful hamlet once. We had little compared to the city people in the south, but we had enough." Abraham wiped a tear from his eye. "But alas, black smoke now rises from yonder Saugus Ironworks. Cruel men have established themselves in there, dwarves and orcs calling themselves the Forged..."

"Dude," said Minh, "what the %£&@ are you talking about? What's an orc, and do you not know women can be raiders?!"

"But alas!" Abraham cut in. "My fearless, foolhardy son Jake, he always seemed to tire of our peaceful ways. He went to them, good knight! He took our clan's ancestral sword, the Infernal Blade of Shish'kebab, and I fear he plans to face those brutes himself... Or what if-?!" Abraham's voice dropped to a terrified whisper. "By the Sun Goddess, if he means to join them?!"

"Well, that wouldn't be great." With a sigh, Minh checked her map. "Saugus Ironworks... I guess can pay them a visit."

With courage in her heart and the light of Lady Evetora shining down upon her, Minh rode to-

"No I DIDN'T, dumbass! I walked! Well, ran. I'm a video game character, we run everywhere."

Oh, Minh, can you at least try to work with me? *sigh* With courage in her heart and the light of Lady Evetora shining down upon her, Minh trekked at a gentle jog to the ancient Ironworks. Lord Saugus, father of the dwarves, had once blessed the castle with his shining hammer, but Minh felt a trickle of fear when its smoking spires rose above her.

An imposing figure in broad, spiked metal armour met her at the gate. "Halt, stranger!" he bellowed in the guttural tones of a Bostonian orc, banging his halberd against the flagstones. "None may enter the seat of the Forged who have not yet been tempered."

"Oh, I'm not here to enter anyone's seat, I'm here for the Dungeons and Dragons game at six. Minh Vu? You might know me as Debbie, um, Xiao Long... The half-elven paladin?" Minh said sweetly.

"Those who steal cool-sounding surnames from cartoons are not worthy!" bellowed the guard. "Your weak flesh will become food for the Forge. Prepare to die!"

The guard surged forwards, but with a swipe and a flick of her nailed baseball bat, Minh had him drawing his last breath upon the ground. Her troubles were only beginning, though, for the warriors of the Forged were charging out to the gate. Tall, well-built orcs and short, well-built dwarves, shouting battle cries and raising a din with their twisted metal armour.

Minh stood her ground. With her longbow, enchanted by the elves of Sanctuary Hills, she opened fire on the enemy ranks, wounding many. Yet the Forged were no mere rabble, and they pressed upon her with bombs and gouts of flame, conjured by some foul, arcane engineering.

Poor Minh so nearly was roasted in her jumpsuit, but she was not to be defeated by overwhelming power alone. Fleeing into the shadows, Minh called upon the mystic aim-taking magic of the Vault Priests, and one by one she picked off her pursuers with burning red arrows. Exhausted, she fell upon the cold, muddy grass and into fitful dreams.

When she awoke from her impromptu nap, Minh found herself in unfamiliar surroundings. It was hot, although the jagged stone bricks and the faint morning sun through the stained glass windows suggested it should not be.

"Ah, the good lady of Sanctuary Hills awakens."

Minh sat up with a gasp, reaching for her bat. "Who are you?!"

"Fear not, Sir Minh. I am a servant, but I can assure you that I am no ally to Lord Slag and his Forged."

Minh's eyes were wide with amazement. Before her stood a heavy-set metal creature, an orange crystal glowing upon their head. "A Protectron? Juuuuust great. Where the Hell am I, exactly?"

"You are in the Saugus Ironworks," the good-natured atronach replied. "I carried you here, to a room where few warriors tread, that my masters would not discover you outside when dawn broke."

"The %&£$'s an atronach? I mean, thanks for..." Minh cleared her throat. "Did you dip my hat in white paint?"

"Your helmet is being washed, good sir knight. But we have more pressing matters," said the atronach. "Lord Slag is about to execute young Jake of Clan Finch, on the flimsy reasoning that the Infernal Blade of Shish'kebab was too easy a tribute to give."

"Tribute... Ugh, so he DID want to join up!" Minh groaned. "Why do people have to become Raiders? I mean, I guess it's fun, what kind of LIFE are they gonna have?!" She paused. "A short one. Thanks in part to me. I'd better go and talk him out of it."

Thanking the noble atronach for his aid, Sir Minh alighted from the bowels of the fortress. With cat-like tread, she snuck through the keep, feeling all the while as though the air was growing hotter around her...

Lord Slag had been waiting in the heart of the castle, on a gilded balcony above a lake of molten steel. His armour was like nothing Minh had yet seen, thick pieces of metal tied and riveted together into a tower, a scrapheap of fury and might. And kneeling at his side, trembling in a battered old rain coat, was Jake of House Finch.

"Ahh! At last, the great hero approaches!" Slag crowed in a voice like thunder. Not an orc but a man was he, and a formidable one at that. "Sir Minh of the Minute, what a fine name for a fine warrior. It seems my Forged had not the means to keep you away..."

"Cool," Minh lied. "I'm here for Jake and that sword. Do you wanna do this the hard way, or-"

"I am not an unkind man," Slag lied, "so hear my offer. By slaying my warriors, you have proven yourself a worthier man-"

"Woman!"

"Shut up. You have proven yourself a worthier man than all who fell before you. Worthy, perhaps, to be Forged! I offer you a test, Minh, one final show of loyalty." Grinning savagely, Slag picked Jake up by the collar and threw him to the floor below. "Kill this useless mongrel. Take his head and become my right-hand man!"

Minh smacked her forehead. "Do you even know what 'woman' means?!"

"Of course I- Er...?" Slag squinted down at her. "Oh! M-my apologies, good lady. I, er, that is to say, your hair is so short..."

Minh chucked a grenade at him.

Sound and heat filled the chamber, yet when the smoke from Minh's flame spell faded, Slag still stood. He strode, laughing, towards her, stepping on Jake in the process. Narrowing her eyes, Minh unsheathed her baseball bat and advanced on the dread lord of Saugus Ironworks.

"You had your chance, Minh," Slag laughed. He unsheathed a bright metal sword that caught fire when its blade met the air. "Now you will learn the truth of the Forge, that the strong are tempered by fire and pain, while the fate of the weak is but to melt!"

The Infernal Blade of Shish'kebab...! Minh fought to keep surprise off her chiselled face. "The Order of the Minute taught me this, Slag. The strong are not only the iron bars who become shields and axes! Sometimes the strong are the kind hands who weave cotton into a bed, coax good crops from the earth, and give comfort to the sick. But today, the strong is I, who shall deliver your evil unto its end!"

The thought ocurred to Minh, What the Hell am I saying?! No, seriously, what WAS that?!, but the time for words was past. Burning steel met wood and nails as she gave battle with Slag, beating away his savage strikes and scoring scratches into his armour. But Slag was strong, and rallying well he forced her back towards the wall.

Drinking a vial of Psycho Jet, the elixir she had been given by a witch from the Cambridge Institute of Thaumaturgy, Minh leapt over Slag's head onto the upper balcony. The mahogany shuddered beneath her boots, but it held, and she raised a hand alight with magic.

"Eat bottlecap mine, screwball!" roared Minh, and she threw her, um, arcane rune at Slag's feet. Mystic energy and the tops of around ten Nuka Cola bottles filled the chamber as Slag's armour was reduced to dust.

"Gaaahhhh!" Slag cried out in pain. "Such power...! You should have been mine, Minh. You should have been Forged! But I am lord of Saugus Ironworks, and only I will see the next dawn. Behold the true power of Lord Slag! Behold dragon fire!"

While Slag had been making his grand speech, Minh had been scampering down the walkways until she saw him directly overhead. She pulled from her bag a mystical staff of Lexingtonian make, the powerful Double-Barrelled Shotgun, and took aim at Slag's feet.

"&%£$ yeah! How d'you like them holes in your feet, asshole?!" Minh rejoiced. She could take no pleasure in vanquishing this great foe, for near him lay young Jake of Clan Finch, coughing his last few breaths with a footprint pressed deep into his chest.

"Jake..." Minh sighed. "Tough break, kid. I can't believe he trod on you!"

"Nor can... I..." groaned Jake, dying.

It was a solemn moment when Minh bent down over the body of her slain foe, his heart silent, his feet bleeding through their socks. Slowly, carefully, she untied Slag's belt from around his stout waist and took the Infernal Blade of Shish'kebab's asbestos sheath.

She picked up the discarded sword and sheathed it, cradling it in her hands for a moment before she slung it from her own laden belt. As Minh headed out of the castle, her footsteps echoing in halls now cold and silent, she thought only of the poor Finches, down one son, and how Abraham was probably going to want the Infernal Blade back before she'd even got to try it.

"I-I get to keep the sword?! Thank you, Todd!" squealed Minh, kissing Abraham on the lips.

"I-I'm not Todd! I'm Abraham!" gasped Abraham, furiously wiping his mouth.

"And he's married!" cried Abigail. "To me!"

"Oh, I know! Don't worry, I could never compete with you," Minh lied. "Sorry about your son, guys. I was... too late for him."

"Dear Jake... The pain of his loss will remain with us forever," sighed Abigail. "But know this, Sir Minh. Thanks to you, a dark cloud has lifted over the land today, and perhaps... Perhaps now someone else's son will keep his precious life. You and and your order have our gratitude."

"Will you stay for the night?" asked Abraham. "We have mead and Fancy Lads Snack Cakes, surely not the fare you are accustomed to, but..."

"I do believe I will." Minh smiled. "Thanks, Abraham, Abigail, and the other one. Give me a minute, I need to get my stupid horse watered..."

#Fallout #Fallout 4 #my writing #fun with pixels #gaming

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sabraeal · 1 year

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I posted 24,543 times in 2022

That's 2,898 more posts than 2021!

88 posts created (0%)

24,455 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@bubblesthemonsterartist

@ponyregrets

@infinitelystrangemachinex

@akai-vampire

@ninox-ios

I tagged 4,603 of my posts in 2022

#ans - 586 posts

#arcane - 572 posts

#spy x family - 547 posts

#fmab - 476 posts

#twisted wonderland - 317 posts

#obiyuki - 270 posts

#hakuouki - 158 posts

#akatsuki no yona - 154 posts

#a:tla - 115 posts

#bnha - 110 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#also i love the look obi and shirayuki give each other when she's like you must find your vocation. it's two adults just being like 🙄kids

My Top Posts in 2022:

WFB, Tanbarun arc: Obi meets the real reason she had to leave everything behind.

[Read on AO3]

Obi can admit: even after spending the day with Umbrella Corp’s heir apparent, even after knowing that Richie Rich couldn’t find his ass with both hands-- but in a nice way-- he hears the tiny tyrant’s little proclamation and thinks, what’s his game?

He may not be on the fast track to Summa Cum Laude, not like Doc-- and apparently this kid, if Daddy keeps paying out that Big Pharma money to keep his grades at the top of the curve-- but Obi doesn’t need any fancy academic distinction to suss out that Raj’s celebratory kegger idea belongs straight in the ‘godawful stupid’ pile. And with the quick way Doc goes bloodless at the offer, the air’s got that tangy Calculated Insult taste to it.

That is until he squares up right in front of this Timothée Chalamet looking motherfucker and is blind-sided by his bright-eyed, dummy wide smile. Despite the vibe in this room reading like the end of a slow-burn thriller’s first act, this idiot thinks he’s doing everyone a favor. The kid somehow took one look at Annie Hall here and thought that her brand says vomits Pabst Blue Ribbon as an extracurricular. There are times where Obi considers his past gold star failures and thinks he’s nature’s worst clown, but Shenezard-- Shenezard could fill a whole car.

“Raj,” Doc chokes out, looking like she’s two steps from a body bag. “That’s very...generous of you, but you don’t really--”

“No, no.” Between blinks, Raj springs forward, seizing her hand. “Shirayuki, you are the generous one, coming here after all this time to make amends--”

“I’m not,” she reminds him, steely, like the tooth of a bear trap. Or maybe the blade of a guillotine. “I’m here to present a paper.”

“--So you must give me the opportunity to be likewise magnanimous.” One hand may be taken, but the other’s free to snap, loud as a gunshot in the empty foyer. “Sakaki, see to it.”

His lawyer ventures a weary glance, closing his briefcase with a final snap. “Mr Shenezard, you know I can’t be party to providing alcoholic beverages to underage students.”

“Right.” His fingers snap again; the brothers passing by flinch. “Brian will take care of it.”

One of them-- the tall one, built like a linebacker with boat shoes that earn the name-- sighs. “Aw man, not again.”

“I told you, dude,” the other one mutters, pushing him through the doorway. “You can’t make eye contact.”

Raj doesn’t even bat an eye, just stares down at Doc, flushed with victory. “See? Simple. Get yourself ready, Shirayuki,” he warns warmly, “for tonight you will be fêted!”

Between Princess and Prez’s egos, there’s no elbow room for any other opinions on the frat’s event committee, but even still, Obi knows there’s some logistical issues to putting together a kegger in barely five hours. It’s the sort of thing he’d worry over if he thought for one second that Doc wanted anything to do with this half-assed excuse for a hook up, but she flees the scene the moment Raj gets distracted enough to drop her hand. It’d be a shame to get all heated when she’s already hanging out a window, escaping the only way she knows how: dangerously.

Real kind of Doc to save him the hassle; if he had to concern himself with her tender feelings, why, he’d barely have time to agonizing over what to wear. Since that’s apparently how he’s going to spend the hours between dinner and drunk o’clock: staring at his backpack full of clothes and hating every stitch on them.

It’s not like he didn’t bring nice stuff; Chief had briefed him-- and Big Guy, and His Lordship, plus a hastily emailed primer from the Big Boss with a rubric for sartorial formalities-- but he can’t exactly wear a sports coat to a keg stand. Maybe CEO Barbie could wear her designer pantsuit and not get a drop on it, but Obi doesn’t have the sort of face that can wear business formal like gym shorts. And the rest of it...

Well sure, jeans and tees would match the vibe; certainly be a step up from the early December board shorts he’s sure will be in fashion tonight, but it’s not-- not--

Hot. His Majesty said this trip would only be four days, a quick jaunt over state lines to see to it that Kihal’s momentary expulsion wasn’t in vain. Packing light seemed smart. He didn’t need to bait the hook when the only item on his itinerary was a poster session and an academic dinner.

He still doesn’t need to; his whole job here is to make sure Doc isn’t eyeing any third-story windows, not his ass. She’s six inches of leg and a drawer full of Victoria Secret away from being his type anyway, and he only came here because-- because--

Her hand had look so pale against the checkered tablecloth, so limp, like it hadn’t been held in years. Like she’d given up on someone being there to take it. He’d held it in the car-- still wet and clammy, a complete accident-- and even now it burns in his memory, the first warmth he’d felt since someone put five inches of cold steel beneath his rib cage. And stupidly, his first thought was, Doc deserves someone who would.

His second is, I’d like to be that someone.

It’s a fucking mystery why. Sure, he-- he likes her, in a real Disney Channel Original, baby’s first crush way, but this whole situation he has at Wistal is a glass shoe, set to shatter the moment he has a diploma in his hands. The last thing he needs is a reason to cling to the shards, expecting more than anyone wants to give him. Besides, he knows by now-- they could hug him and squeeze him and call hims George, but Obi’s the kind of guy who sees and open door and runs through it. There’s no point to being more friend than the job entails. Not unless he wants someone putting up flyers to find their lost Obi, at least. It’d certainly be a first.

“Right.” His palm scrub over his face, muffling out the rest of the world for just a second. That’s all he needs to remember what’s important here. “Just put something on, asshole.”

It’s a stupid thing to worry about. If these clothes didn’t smell like musty library, he wouldn’t even--

Something flutters, right at the corner of his eye. Not big enough to be a threat-- he can tell that right off, but it definitely didn’t come from his stuff. No, looks like it blew out of the trash, pushed along by the sudden burst of hot air from the vents. His mouth tilts, sliding right into a smirk. Speaking of flyers...

Phi Sigma Pi Crunch Time Kegger, this one reads; he has to squint to see the grainy oval in the center is just a photo-realistic barrel. $5 at the door. 8pm on December--

Ha, well. Look at that. It’s today. What a coincidence. Seems he’s not the only one concerned about what’s covering his ass.

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27 notes - Posted March 11, 2022

The Opposite of Shame

[Read on AO3]

It should be easy.

That’s what Zen had said they paddled the last few yards into the canals, a stream of water curled onto his palm, shaping itself into a pearl, too precious to even touch. At least, easier than what you were doing, he’d laughed, letting it splash back down into the water, splattering into Mitsuhide’s lap. After squeezing water out of vines, a whole city of it should be nothing.

And yet sweat beads at her brow when she tries to coax a trickle from its slow currents, dripping from her fingers like a recalcitrant cat. Her boots brace against the ice, and she hauls, the way laborers would, pulling and straining and still-- it flops back down to the surface, swallowed up by ripples like it never left at all.

Shirayuki sprawls right back onto her rear with a huff. That’s what she gets, bending with only half her head. Maybe if she was still ho-- where she came from, she might have managed it. There was something about knowing every vine curled around her window and every plant in the streets of Ba Sing Se that made the motions come easier to her, that made bending nearly mindless. But here...

Ba Sing Se may have been raised from stone, but there were trees there, gardens. Little window boxes where grannies raised their kitchen herbs and children tended their mother’s flowers. In Agna Qel’a, it’s all...ice. Ice and snow and water a shade warmer than freezing; a paradise for a waterbender like her, one who had always hidden her skills lest some neighbor suspect she was the Avatar. Water was next in the cycle, after all, and to see a child with green eyes bend something besides stone would bring her before of the Fire Lord faster than the Earth prince could snap. Even the ancestors would be hard pressed to say what would happen to her when he found out she was simply mixed-blood, a waterbender wearing an earthbender’s face.

And yet this is not the safe haven she imagined, the home she had yet to find. Instead it’s barren, as cold and uninviting as Master Haruka. A woman need draw no more than a dram, he’d said, voice cracking like a whip in the temple. Any more risks being unseemly.

Unseemly. She gets her feet beneath her, letting her attention slide alongside a likely stream. Haruka’s voice echoes in the confines of her skull, What does a healer need that couldn’t fit in a skein?

Healer, he said; woman, he meant. How Kiki could come from a place like this, her bending honed to a blade’s edge, and yet its Master Bender could still say to her face-- impossible.

Her teeth grit, cheeks flushed. Zen might have warned her at least. He’d made this place seem like a refuge, like heaven, like home, and now not only does she have to worry after Haruka, but even Raj--

She can’t think about that. That’s the whole purpose of this: to not think about it. Another thing that’s supposed to be easy. After all, Shirayuki forgets things all the time. Meetings, meals, sleep-- it all fades away under the sinuous stretch of leaf and vine, her fingers reaching and stems rising to meet the motion, as easy as putting on a glove.

But that’s not what it’s like here. Not when it’s so cold that algae barely blooms. Hard to lose herself when every surface reflects her face.

“Lookin’ pretty serious there.”

Shirayuki concentration shatters, easy as a plate on a pub floor. The stream of water she’s pulled-- larger than she’s ever managed before, even if it still wiggles and drips against her control-- drops, tumbling back into the canal with a plop, big enough to soak her boots.

No, both their boots.

“Ah, uh...” She doesn’t know his name; a realization that pulls her up screeching a moment too late. They’ve only met twice, after all-- once when he tried to scare her off, and again when he caught her at Laxdo. Each time he’s appeared like fog off the water, disappearing just the same way, intangible and unannounced. “Sorry.”

Satisfaction glints like a knife’s edge in that man’s eyes, as if he suspected he might get this reaction. Or worse, meant to do it.

Well, that’s what he gets, anyway, coming up on her all unaware like this, a strange man in a strange city. He’s lucky she doesn’t have her plants, otherwise he wouldn’t have much room to be giving her smirks and sly eyes.

“Don’t worry about it, Miss.” His shoulders twitch, a distant cousin to a shrug, as he shakes off his feet. “I was asking for it sneaking up on a lady all alone like that.”

It mollifies her to hear him admit it. Just a little. “Here, let me at least--”

Her hand flicks out, ready to wick the water off him-- it’d be rude not to-- but he shuffles away with a laugh, his own warding her off.

“I said don’t worry about it.” His smile is wide, if not a little lop-sided. “You barely got me. It’ll dry off on its own.”

She frowns down, eyeing the waterline on his boots, wet splotches climbing all the way to his knees. He can say what he likes, but it’s freezing at the poles, and even dry he’ll still be cold. She should really--

Her teeth clamp down, keeping her protest locked behind them. There’s no reason for her to worry about a man that only shows up to cause her trouble. “What are you doing here?”

His grin sharpens to a point, through strangely, she’s sure it isn’t aimed at her. “My my, young miss. You may not wear a necklace like these water folk, but that question has teeth.”

She lifts her chin, stubbornly meeting his eyes. “Should it not?”

For a moment, he’s still. Not the way a person is, all hitched movements and stifled breaths, but the way eel hound does before they strike-- motionless. More like a statue than a living being.

And then his mouth splits in a grin, tongue clucking against his teeth. “And after I caught you in my arms, too. Folks just aren’t as grateful as they used to be.”

Shirayuki stares, confused. “Used to--?”

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28 notes - Posted July 29, 2022

900 Followers: Pick Your Adventure

The pairings have been chosen, and now it is time for you to choose what you would like to see! Each pairing has four options, let me know which fic you like most for your holiday gift. Voting is open from today, 8/25, to Friday evening, 8/26!

VOTE HERE

30 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

At Your Command

[Read on AO3]

Written for @kaedix‘s birthday! Kimber requested an Ella Enchanted AU, and I originally set out to write a canon universe one where Obi had the obedience curse...and I made something close to that, and yet entirely new as well...

The carriage pulls up right outside the alley; even in the street’s shadow it shimmers with shellac, like wet cobbles on a dark night. With all the hansoms that clog Port City’s arteries, it’s unremarkable, just another box among many. Save that it’s here, where no one with the money to hire a cab would be caught. And save that it’s arrived right on time, just as he’s been told it would.

A boot hedges out of the shadow, followed by a narrow limb, stretched enough to be part shade itself. The carriage merely waits, hunkering down at the alley’s mouth with all the gravitas of a fat tabby used to table scraps. It could play this game all day, its hefty shape says; could he?

He edges out the barest bit more, letting the light from The Beggar’s Barrel fall across the knife-sharp planes of his jaw. A tilt of his head sets one eyes to flash like a coin, stark beneath the low-slung band of his cap. A dangerous look, he’s been told, the kind that keeps bigger boys from trying to roll the one who’s skin and bones. That’s the thing about being skinny; all it takes is a good, feral grin, and only fools want to feel out your edges.

It gets the job done too; he’s hardly got his chin up from his collarbone when the door swings open, revealing an even deeper dark inside. “Get in.”

It strikes like a whip’s lash, the air knocked clean out of him. “Me, milord?” He gives a hearty laugh, making a good show of peering around the narrow alley. Good thing there’s not enough light to show him sweat. “You’re sure you have the right pl--?”

“You are Nanaki, aren’t you?”

His soles itch as he shuffles closer, trying to stave off the burn. Another breath or two and he’d find a long walk over hot coals more pleasant than standing here. “Today I am. Though maybe tomorrow I’ll feel like someone else...”

A shadow shifts in the dim of the cab, not small. “I have little patience for mummery. Hurry up.”

He’d likened those words once to a goad to an ass, but tonight-- tonight he has to catch himself before he stumbles. There’s not much pride in him, but what’s left refuses to meet his client on hands and knees, crawling up the steps like a cur. He’s got a reputation to keep, after all.

“Your wish,” he grits out through clenched teeth, taking those stairs in a single bound, “is my command.”

The inside is black as pitch and just as sticky, the shadows clinging to the corners as stubbornly as a stain. Still, he catches velvet beneath his palms, the cushion plump as any young miss, not the aching black lacquer benches of one of the city’s hansoms. Plain it might have looked from the outside, but this is no jumped-up merchant’s night out. Whatever money bought this is old, like the quarter itself.

He’d stretch his other senses to the task, but there’s no need; once the carriage has clopped and swayed itself to smoother cobbles, the shade snaps up. Lamp light pours in, painting the cab in gold.

Hardly necessary; this man is made of it. His business has never extended much to textiles-- too much speculation for his blood-- but the fine weave on that wool coat alone would fence enough to keep him well fed and warmly housed for a year, fingers firmly in pockets. That doesn’t even account for the linen of his shirt, or the brocade of his waist.

His fingers scour runnels through velvet. This man isn’t money, he’s a noble. No wonder even the barest command from that mouth sets him scrambling.

It’s not the first time a man more title than name has sought him out-- he’s got a reputation after all, a good one. A knife with legs, a man called him once, and he’d liked that just fine. A tidy little image; one that keeps the unsavory types from trying to stiff him. But this man-- this man looks nothing like those small, sniveling lordlings looking for a sure answer. No this one, this one--

This one could be a killer himself. If the calluses on his hands are a hint, he already was. Men don’t get ones like those from playing around in the training yard. This was a man used to fighting.

No, a man used to winning, unless he mistakes his guess. A dangerous sort to get in bed with, and a lethal one to get in business.

Well, let it never be said he passed up a bad idea when it sat itself in front of him. “Nice ride.”

The lord grunts, displeased. “Tell me how this works.”

His mouth itches the minute the words hit air. It’s not like this with everyone; most times he’s got a few moments-- maybe even a few minutes-- to dance around, to let them replace a strict order with a weaker one, maybe even slip the lead on the whole thing altogether. But his lordship here wields commands like a rider holds his reins, and oh, he’s not in the habit of letting a bucking stallion keep his head free.

“Well, I’m not sure of the mechanics.” His teeth flash, an effect lessened by the glare of the lamplight. Hard to seem so dangerous when all of him can be seen, black washed out to gray. “But the hitch the horses up front, you see, and then the driver--”

“Not the carriage,” his lordship snaps, brow furrowing like a thunderhead on a horizon. “They say you’ll do anything a man asks. Tell me how it works.”

There it is; the trap closes, and it’s steel teeth as far as the eye can see.

“Command me, mister,” he drawls, stretching his legs as long as they’ll go. It’s enough to pass beneath the bench on the other side, his lordship giving a censorious sniff. “And I must obey. That’s my gift.”

At once, the storm breaks, and with a terrible certainty, his lordship grates out, “No, boy. That’s your curse.”

It’s not that he expected business to be concluded in a rattling carriage-- that’s the sort of thing one of those merchants might do, the ones that want to curry favor with the First Prince by aping one step up on the food chain-- but he’s got to say, he doesn’t see the palace coming. A clandestine location sure, maybe even the guy’s townhouse if he’s got a misplaced sense of confidence, but most blue-bloods seem to know that you don’t flaunt your private problem solve right under the royal’s nose.

Then again, His Highness has been up wooing the North for the past few months. Turns out all those old ladies were right: when the cat’s away the mice will play. These ones just dress nicer and aim a little higher than stealing cheese.

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33 notes - Posted March 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

900 Followers & Holiday Gifts!

Way, WAY back in the early months of 2022, I got quite the influx of followers and this happened:

Which means that, as is traditional, I will be posting every Friday in December with fics of my followers’ choosing! And since last year was obiyuki focused, this year will be about non-Obiyuki pairings, including those from other fandoms! Which means I’m going to let you guys tell me what pairings you’d like to see!

From today, 8/21 to Tuesday, 8/23, I will be collecting pairing suggestions via ask! I will pick the pairings I am most interested in writing, and on 8/24 I will put those to a vote!

ASK AWAY!

33 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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marshymallo · 11 months

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rewatching arcane rn and… why is the bat dude with the firelights kinda hot—

#no bc seriously he looks so fine #OMG HE HAS A KID?? HE MAKES A GOOD FATHER #🍿: arcane #⇢ ˗ˏˋ mae says stuff ࿐ྂ #ೄྀ࿐ chaos’ corner ˊˎ-

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 1 year

Note

Would you be willing to write some Scar from Arcane? The big bat dude from the Firelights? Just love him so much and there is almost nothing on him.

Hmmmm, I could maybe try writing for Scar. It would be interesting to see if I could write him i personally love the guy, he's a cool and interesting character. Its a crime there's nothing for him 😔

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aftonfamilyvalues · 2 years

Note

I think I might be the only one that of all Arcane characters got a crush on Bolbok. I enjoy robot dudes.

havent seen anyone loving him, ive seen people thirst after that bat guy though. i dont see much obscure character love in arcane though. pim is cool but only because i like to imagine hes actually silco lol.

#ask #league of fazfuck

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inesvazquezart · 2 years

Photo

Ekko, bat dude and hoverboards. Arcane art was so nice!

#arcane #arcane fanart #league of legends #league of legends fanart #ekko #ekko arcane #bat dude arcane #anime #zaun #netflix #comic book art

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hexgatekeep · 2 years

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i can't imagine how alone ekko felt in the aftermath of arc 1. it seemed like literally EVERY single person he cared for or went to for comfort was dead. benzo dies and he sees it happen. then all his friends go to rescue vander and not one of them comes back. and unlike powder, he did not appear to immediately get swept up into a new group.

the way he managed to grow what looks like a THRIVING (given the circumstances) community from that loneliness and pain is astounding.

#a very even-keeled leader too! you can tell his group loves him.#esp that one bat dude with the kid #arcane #ekko #league of legends #hexpost

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nylilcosmos · 2 years

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YOU.

I need to know more about you.

#arcane #bat guy #bat dude #I need his name #And omg that moment with his lil sis?#i melted #Takes out pen #time to draw #no but like i dont know why i was first shooketh to see that an actual bat dude was behind the bat mask but thats awesome #local big brother to all the kids there #i just know it #whats with me and taking interest in characters that show up for like 3 seconds #arcane lol

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mellointheory · 2 years

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Mello, you say. Mello, are you getting overly attached to a background character again?

The answer is yes! Welcome to my absolute favorite boy and the crown jewel of Arcane: some bat dude.

Why do you like him so much, you ask? I have a few simple answers.

1. Mask Sexy.

literally, look at that mask. It's dope. It has cool teeth and everything.

2. Cool Vibes

Look at that. He has a skateboard that he flies on and a cool spear and also claws. How could you not love that?

3. Strong and vicious...but kind...

In his first appearances we see him take on some of Silco's crew with his spear, and also fight hand-to-hand with Vi using his claws. He's on the verge of stabbing her when Ekko stops him. However, after we're introduce to the Firelight's hideout we see another side of him. Namely, him with a small child/sibling.

LOOK AT THAT!! IT'S ALL TO PROTECT HIS FAMILY??? HOW TF COULD I NOT LOVE HIM?

I actually have a large amount of knowledge about League lore and characters, which allows me to make some assumptions about him and his species. In the League world of Runeterra, many different animalistic species exist, known as vastaya. These vastaya often live for much longer than humans do and are descended from ancient nature spirits. Vastayan birth rates are declining, although the birth of half Vastayans such as Sett (well known for being a sexy fox man) is more common.

Anyway, I don't know his name but he's hot and I love him.

#arcane #arcane spoilers #firelights #mello is simping

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viktormaru · 2 years

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Ok, here's my big post on my thoughts on Viktor's lore and how it compares to Viktor in Arcane

Obviously: spoilers for arcane until episode 6, and spoilers for viktor's current in game as of this date I guess?

Ok let's get into it

First of all Im gonna adress something that I mentioned on twitter. Riot basically confirmed Arcane isn't the definite canon but tried to rely as much on canon as it could, so basically its a soft canon.

I think that's good. League of Legends is a game that is constantly pumping new characters, claiming a story as the definite truth makes it harder to add to it later, as much as it sucks to lose consistency because of it.

But! That's the point I want to make with this point. They DID try to lean on the guts of what the characters' lores in it are and they made this new thing that still feels legit in a way. At least so far (we dont have act 3 out yet).

So Viktor right? First of all we never had a real young Viktor design, the closest we got I guess was prototype, and I'm not joking when I say I like this skin

The info we had on Viktor was that he was a genius, was ostricized by his peers in Piltover, very passionate about science and sympathetic towards the problems of the people of Zaun.

Then Arcane Viktor is... a genius, not very popular (this is an assumption based on the fact he's never really out with people), very passionate about science and sympathetic towards the problems of the people of Zaun. So it checks. He looks nerdy and I like that for him even though the fun in masked characters is usually that we don't know what they look like. This isn't abt his design, its abt his character and lore.

Viktor is from the Entresol level of Zaun, Zaun is full of toxins in the air basically and this is where most of what the call the Zaun Grey stays. Theres a lot of manual labor and factories here, it's basically the underbelly of Zaun. This seems to be true in both Arcane and In-game lore so keep it in mind.

In his in game-lore as a kid he had to constantly move because of the constant spills, accidents and other dangers that would come from those factories and that encouraged him to find a solution to that, making inventions that would make work safer and protect his people. It was through his inventions that he was invited to join the Piltover Academia.

And that's a constant in Viktor's inventions, most of his creations is to save lives or diminish suffering. He created Blitzcrank to control a chem-spill, he keeps using techmaturgical technologies to help people despite constant failures, he will disregard possible misuse of his technologies because HE intends to use it to help. Viktor is banned from the Academy because he doesn't see evil in what he does because he wouldn't misuse his technology. He's a logical man through and through, he doesn't see anything to be gained by harming other people (if he has no specific reason to do it).

Later with his Glorious Evolution, Viktor is trading human parts for robotic ones because they are more sturdy, they don't get sick or break like human bones do. He works on removing his emotions because him being fucking basically depressed was getting in the way of helping people. Viktor biggest motivation was this like misguided (?) desire to stop all the death and suffering that he grew up around. He's trying to go against the natural order to avoid it.

Now for Arcane Viktor we see he acquired a good position within the academia on his own, true to his genius nature and Stanwick, the professor that had originally invited him to Piltover seems to be out of the picture in the series. However there is a crucial change to Viktor right off the bat: Viktor is disabled. He needs an aid to walk. He's the same ambitious dude, not being content with his position int he academy, and sure enough on his beliefs he was willing to lose his carreer for Jayce's idea because he believed it to be good. He voices his desire to help the people of Zaun and that seems to be the goal he has with his inventions. Comes major change number 2: Viktor got sick from his years spent on the Entresol and is dying, FAST. We can see him start to spiriling down into means of using the technology he invented to work to save him. Viktor is trying to use his inventions to stop death at all costs.

You see where I'm getting at? We're getting to the same point basically. But now instead of Viktor working to save the people he had to watch die time and time again needlessly, the producers sped up the process to fit the series by making his issues much more personal. Viktor now understand in the flesh what is is to be fragile, to have your body fail to your expectations and sucumb to disease, pain and death. But the core of Viktor is still there.

My only concern with what's to come is that Viktor has always been a very logical man, he does things because he thought about them and made sense of them to be true based on his vision of hte world. He's no impulssive and he's not emotion driven, he's not prone to act without thinking. And again, Viktor never acted to hurt people, specially the vulnerable (though he has attacked Jayce, for example, with the reason that he NEEDED the crystal he had to save people, and if hurting Jayce meant saving dozens of other lives, that was a clear choice), so there's a part of me that fears what Singed being in the picture could mean to a Viktor who had a very fast ride to the point of Change instead of the very slow progress he had in the game lore. In Arcane he hasn't had time to think of the Glorious Evolution much, in his in game he kept seeing the same thing happen over and over again.

But yeah I can't say much about that because act 3 is not out yet... I'm excited for it though, I do hope we get a glimpse of robot man I love him very bad. And again, this is all my opinion and interpretations, I do have a specific vision of Viktor I like more and that is of a very sympathetic person instead of that of a villain and that is my bias and could pretty much be not the truth. I also don't remember his old lore and thus don't have any influence from that. Let's see where this all goes so I make another huge post for no reason.

On another things to note from the show:

- Jayce is so much nicer in the show than in the game's lore?? I NEED to consider this a soft canon or else Jayce, taking into account what he does in the in game lore, is a WORSE person that I imagined. Like, REALLY MUCH WORSE HOLY SHIT..... It's even funny just how much worse it makes him.

- On that note, I don't think Jayce did anything bad to Viktor in the series other than have a social life? TO VIKTOR, he's totally being an idiot and falling into a trap that's for sure but their friendship seems ot be going well with Jayce defending Viktor and supporting his ideas and inviting him to the stage to present his work as well, that's neat.

- Baby Viktor is fucking adorable I love him

- Heimerdinger comes off as a fucking horrible person telling Viktor to be patience and wait out a decade to perfect his work when Viktor is fucking dying and Heimer is like 300 years old LMAO

- I kinda agree with [Ikleyvey's take on twitter] about hwo the sicence aspect of the show works. It's confusing, doesn't seem to be coming from anywhere and make sense anywhere and it sounds like just a bunch of words thrown in for you to not understand, and they don't explain what it means because you're not supposed to make sense of it. It's a shame bcs I do wish we got to see more of it but it is what it is I guess.

I think this is it? so holy shit if theres anything I somehow missed or whatever feel free to ask me? Don't fight me abt it though this is just for fun and I dont hold the truth this is just my onion

TL;DR: Viktor Arcane and Viktor League of Legends are both motivated by their desire to stop suffering and death, against the natural order of things, even it falls within morally grey area very fast. The only difference is how fast that idea becomes "too much" in the eyes of others.

#arcane spoilers #i need to tag these as somehting for me to find later #viktor lore #there done i guess

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