What makes you like a song? The melody, the lyrics, or something else?
Definitely the melody because most of the time I don't even pay attention to the lyrics unless I listen to it very hard. I could listen to a song a thousand times and not remember a single damn line, but I will hum every sound and note. If a song makes me cry it's always because of the melody, not the lyrics. Case in point - Helvetesfönster. Or the instrumental part in Respite on the Spitalfields, so so so damn beautiful. Tobias writes such beautiful melodies, I'd love for him to score a movie at some point. Or just do an instrumental album.
like most of what is and isn’t romance is cultural/constructed anyways... you can take and leave what you want with it as long as you maintain boundaries. does that make sense
vi would be the best cuddler and i stand by that. as a buff lesbian myself, muscles are made for cuddling.
arcane masterlist
prompt: Can I get some after nightmare cuddling with Vi? The prompt for Jinx was so disgustingly sweet to read, just had to have one for the sister [requested by anon]
words: 988
warnings: nightmares, cursing, mentions of blood and violence, all followed by fluff and comfort from everyone's favorite pink-haired lesbian
You hate nightmares.
You jerk out of your sleep, shooting up off the bed with your chest heaving and sweat beading on your forehead. Flashes of blood flicker across your mind, accented by echoing screams and the smell of smoke in your nostrils. The colors are so bright, so vivid, your breath is stuck in your chest, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, it hurts, make it stop, make it stop, make it sto—
“Hey, hey.” Hands come to your shoulders, pulling them back and involuntarily kicking your lungs into functioning again. It’s a warm voice, soft and rugged with sleep. “You’re here, we’re in your bedroom, everything’s okay. I’m here.”
“Fuck,” you exhale, leaning into Vi. She takes her cue to wrap her arms around you, pressing her cheek to yours. It dawns on you how late it is— the moon is visible through the window. With a shaky breath, you manage to say, “Sorry I woke you up.”
“Fuck off with that,” Vi says in her classic, up to no good voice. “I’m here for you, baby. Another nightmare?”
“Mhm.”
“Same one as last time?”
You nod wordlessly, and Vi just hugs you tighter. She gives you all the time you need to get your heart rate back down and does your deep breathing exercises along with you. The nightmares haven’t stopped as of late; always tormenting you when you close your eyes. It’s unbearable. Or, it would be if Vi didn’t insist on sleeping in your apartment every night. By all means, she’s technically your coworker— you met her in the force when Caitlyn brought her in— but she’s your girlfriend first.
“There you go,” Vi murmurs, pushing some of your hair aside when you manage a full inhale and exhale without jittering once. “Feel better?”
“Can we cuddle?” You ask quietly. Vi smiles at you and pecks your temple with a kiss. She lays down and you slide into her arms— the security of her strength is a boon in these moments when your mind won’t leave you the fuck alone. Vi has the ability to comfort people in spades; she does it without even thinking about it half the time.
You rest your head on her chest, soaking in the slow, thumping beat of her heart underneath her sternum. All the while, Vi runs her hands up and down your back, humming something like a lullaby. Occasionally, she rubs her fingers on the sore sports near the base of your spine, careful not to be too overwhelming. After spending so much time together, you’ve learned each other back and forth, up and down. There isn’t anything you don’t know about each other.
She’s a blessing to you. Quite honestly, you’re not sure how you managed to convince her to date you in the first place. Vi is all rough edges, but underneath all that bluster and grit is someone who’s seen countless hardships, suffered through things that are unimaginable. You heard her recount the story of watching her little sister blow up the Council Chamber, the guilt and the blame she carries with her.
You feel ashamed that you’re like this. Compared to her, your nightmares are a cakewalk.
“Stop thinking.” Vi taps your head. “I can hear it.”
“Sorry.”
“Look at me,” Vi asks gently. You pull your eyes up to her and she smiles. “Don’t apologize, okay? Ever. I know your nightmares are bad. They fucking suck, believe me, you’ve seen mine. I love you, and I’m here for you. Always, cutie.”
Tears spring to the corner of your eyes, and you lean forward, kissing her. You feel the scar on her lip and the faint taste of salt, perhaps from your own eyes. When you pull away, you burrow into Vi, pressing yourself as close as humanly possible. She pulls the blanket over you both, holding you securely. With her… you’re safe. The nightmares can’t get you when you’re in Vi’s arms. They can sure as hell try.
Vi will keep them away. She always does. It’s guaranteed without a shred of doubt that if you ask, she’ll be by your side through anything. Nightmares included. You snuggle into Vi, pressing a kiss to her neck. She hums appreciatively, her thumb moving back and forth over the fabric of your sleep tank top and soothing you beyond belief. Strange, how two people from differing sides can come together in such a union like this.
There’s nothing but skin and clothes here. No Piltover, no Zaun. Just you and Vi.
You like it like that. A smile comes to your face when Vi tilts her head to kiss the top of your hair a few times, peppering it with adoration. Vi is yours, and you are Vi’s. It’s simple. You welcome the simplicity of it with open arms.
Vi is warm. Calming. She smells like the soap in your shower mixed with the stench of the streets that never seems to go away no matter how hard she scrubs herself after work. It wouldn’t matter. It’s an oddly nice smell, once you get used to it. Everything that Vi is, you adore to pieces. There isn’t anyone else you’d want to have sleeping with you in your bed, even if she does have a tendency to, as you like to call it, sleep-beat-the-shit-out-of-everybody. Reflex behavior.
Still.
Your point stands. Vi means everything to you. Her being there for you during your nightmares is only the tip of the iceberg.
“I love you,” you whisper into the air.
Her reply is instant. “I love you more. Rest, baby, I’ll keep you safe.”
There’s weight to those words. She takes it seriously, after failing to do it right the first time and being sent to Stillwater. There isn’t an inkling of doubt in your mind that she won’t keep you safe. She always does. She always has your back.
