#chair writes for arcane
Note
Fem Reader is another adopted kid silco took in (because young jinx insisted on it). The two are super close and deeply care for each other. During the statue scene she tells silco she'll offer herself up and take full blame for jinx if it means her sis stays safe and free. This way zaun is free, jinx is safe, and her dad finally gets his biggest wish. This is enough for silco to basically go "fuck that. You are my children and I will not give either of you away. Not even for Zaun. We'll think of something but I refuse to sacrifice either of you." And Jinx overhears all this.
the statue scene is when silco’s talking to vander’s statue, right? lol, my memory sucks…
tw ❦ angst
platonic ❦ romantic ❦ neutral
fandom ❦ arcane
character(s) ❦ silco, jinx
“is there anything so undoing as a daughter?”
silco’d asked as he took a sip of alcohol.
you’d peeked your head out of the shadows as you listened to your adoptive father’s conversation with vander’s statue, knowing what you had to do.
“dad,” you said as you walked up to him, your hands swaying by your side.
silco immediately turned to you, slightly startled.
“Y/N.”
you took a deep breath.
“i’ll do it.”
“what?”
“i- i’ll offer myself to the enforcers, so that jinx will be safe and-”
you were only halfway through your sentence when silco started shaking his head, standing up, but you didn’t notice as your eyes were closed and your head was down.
“-and then zaun is free and you’ll have your biggest wish and-”
“No.”
at this you looked up, staring your adoptive father in the eyes.
“but-”
“No. i am not giving either of my children away, not even for zaun. i’ll figure something out but i am not losing you or jinx.”
you stood there for a moment, unsure what to say before you tackled silco in a hug, almost knocking him over. he flinched, but hugged you back.
neither of you noticed your blue-haired sister hiding in the shadows, having heard everything.
☽ 【┘】 ☾
"jiiinnnnxx,,” you dragged out your sister’s name as you called her, your feet dragging behind you as you entered her “lair”.
however, the place was empty, much to your surprise.
you looked around, making sure she wasn’t hiding to scare you as she’d done so many times before.
“jinx?”
which is when you noticed the note scribbled on the desk.
“ not letting you sacrifice yourself for me n dad. luv you, tell dad i love him too ꨄ ”
you cursed and ran out of the room, running as fast as you could all the way to the bridge connecting zaun and piltover.
after reaching the bridge you immediately spotted jinx’s bright blue braided hair, and the enforcers surrounding her with their guns raised.
“JINX!!” you yelled out, catching jinx’s attention as she turned to you, her eyes widening.
“WAIT!!” you yelled out, coming in between jinx and the enforcers, half of whom now had their guns trained on you.
“wait, she’s-”
“Y/N, no-”
“she’s just covering for me,” you spat out, still panting heavily from the long run.
“it was me. i did everything. jinx was innocent, she did nothing wrong. she’s just covering.”
and that was all the enforcers needed to hear.
they handcuffed you and forced you away from jinx, dragging you toward piltover. you looked back at jinx with tears in your eyes, giving your sister one last smile.
hope you enjoyed! ♡ debating a part two lol
#chair writes#chair writes for arcane#jinx x reader#platonic arcane#jinx x sibling reader#jinx blurb#jinx imagines#arcane blurb#arcane imagines#silco blurb#silco imagines#silco x reader#silco scenario#jinx scenario#silco x child reader#arcane x reader
275 notes
·
View notes
Text
if anyone wants to request any x reader headcanons for the following fandoms then send one in on my writing blog @chairwritexv bc i wanna write but have no ideas just follow the rules n such
cw’s flash
cw’s arrow
mcu
arcane
rottmnt
f.r.i.e.n.d.s.
psych
castle
wednesday
itsv
firefly
first three requests’ll get an extra blurb/drabble thingie if they want it despite them being closed, just to make it more enticing no it’s not bribery
#chair writes#the flash x reader#arrow x reader#mcu x reader#arcane x reader#rottmnt x reader#friends x reader#psych x reader#castle x reader#wednesday x reader#itsv x reader#firefly x reader#x reader#x reader headcanons#headcanons#le boop#lmao
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sundress Season - S.R
a/n: spent all friday & saturday writing so sorry 4 dumping so many works 2night lololol
‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: spencer decides to come help you out with some research and gets a little more than he bargained for
warnings: fluff, thigh kink if you SQUINT LIKE SQUINT
wc: 0.9k
You crossed one leg over the other, your nails drumming against the table, while your eyes bored holes into the book that lay open in your lap. You loved reading, more than most people, but when it was something you were interested in, not when the pages were smeared with the arcane symbols of mathematical algorithms that you could not seem to comprehend. It was giving you a migraine.
At the call of your name, your head lifted abruptly, a welcome excuse the cast aside the loathsome book, expecting your coffee to be awaiting you at the counter. You weren't, however, expecting to see Spencer standing there. Your brows knitted together in a moment of confusion before you face relaxed into a warm, welcoming smile.
"Spence? Hey, what are you doing here?"
"JJ said you were researching the neural network algorithms," Spencer said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement as he pulled out the chair across from you. "I figured I could lend a hand."
“Oh, bless your heart, Dr. Reid,” you praised, hand dramatically pressed to your heart, “I could kiss you.”
The subtle rosiness that blossomed on Reid’s cheeks didn’t escape your notice, and you couldn’t deny the small thrill of saying things designed to elicit the delightful blush. It was cute.
“May I?” he asks, gesturing towards the book, ignoring your words.
You give a nod and pass it over, his fingers brushing over yours in the process. It was hard not to stare at his face, admittedly, your scientific knowledge (or any knowledge) didn’t rival his, yet surely there was some explanation for why you found him so attractive.
You watched, curiously, as he made quick work of the pages, absorbing the information with the ease of a child flipping through a picture book. Maybe that was it—his intelligence, now that wasn’t far off. I mean, who didn’t want a man who could effortlessly recite pi to the hundredth decimal?
You found yourself following the lines of his face— from the subtle shadows under his eyes to the rhythmic movement of his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he concentrated, down to the soft dip of his lips. God, he was so beautiful. And even that term barely did him justice.
Your blatant starring was broken only when you realized his lips were moving.
“Yeah, totally,” you said, bobbing your head in agreement, clueless to his actual words but hoping you said the right thing.
He regarded you with a puzzled glance, his brow raised while carefully marking his place in the book. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely.”
That famous, gorgeous smile of his spread across his face as his eyes darted around the coffee shop. His fingers patted his cheek thoughtfully in silent, teasing challenge.
“Wait, what?”
“The issue was with adjusting the weight initialization to prevent the vanishing gradient problem,” he remarked with an easy shrug. “Seems like the perfect time for that well-deserved kiss.”
His words sent a wave of warmth flooding your cheeks. Was he serious? You decided you didn’t care. Rising just enough to meet him, you cupped his face and planted a sloppy kiss against his cheek. As your drew back, you couldn’t help but delight in the sight of his ears, now tinted with a charming blush of red.
The intimate bubble burst as the barista’s voice rang out, announcing that your coffee was, in fact, prepared at last. You tapped his nose lightly before standing fully. “My hero.”
Spencer watched with a slack jaw as you walked away from the table, his eyes drawn to your thighs. The air seemed to escape him in a rush, his gaze locked on your outfit, now fully revealed as you stood up. He was so used to seeing you in dress pants, he’d never seen you in a dress, a sundress at that.
He was already burning from the feeling of your lips on his cheek but now it was spreading through every part of him as he traced your curves before landing once again on your supple thighs. God, you were beautiful, and that ass—
He was on the cusp of entertaining some rather less-than-holy ideas when the shrill ring of his phone intervened. He mentally berated the caller, wishing to preserve every detail of your image in his mind. Morgan. Naturally.
He swiped deftly at the phone, realizing it was FaceTime. Morgan’s head filled the screen, his eyebrows shooting up as he took in Spencer’s appearance.
“Morning, lover boy.”
Spencer was unsure what he meant. “Huh?”
Morgan simply flicked his cheek with a smirk. “Looks like ya missed a spot, hot stuff.”
Spencer’s face warmed with a fresh flush, hastily angling the phone away, his fingers working to erase the lipstick stain.
“Whoa, whoa, hold up, man! You on a hot date or something? C’mon, Reid, who’s the lucky lady?”
Once assured his skin was free of the pink evidence, Spencer lifted the phone again. He didn’t get a chance to ask Morgan’s reason for calling, as your face appeared behind him, curiously glancing at the phone.
“Oh, hey Morgan!”
Morgan’s mouth dropped open. “No way! You’re kidding me! Penelope is going to freak—,”
His words were cut short as Spencer swiftly hung up.
#spender reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds x you#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfic
437 notes
·
View notes
Note
Short/one shot of Jinx from Arcane "adopting" (read: kidnapping) a new "sister" to make everything better and replace liar-abandoner-Vi(can be after the final events of the last season 1 episode or before, up to you). Platonic, female (or Jinx just doesn't care, they're still her "sister" now), darling is an adult as according to the rules- 🧪
Sure! Writing some Delusional Jinx could be cool. I just hope I get her right as she is a very deep character. Takes place in no specific part of the series, could be during or after season 1.
Sisters
Yandere! Platonic! Jinx Short
Pairing: Platonic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Kidnapping, Murder, Violence, Delusional behavior, Manipulation, Darling has a mentioned sibling, Stalking, Parasocial relationship mention, Forced companionship/family dynamic, Possible OOC Jinx at times.
It just takes one spark.
It takes one little spark before a fire starts and grows out of control.
Jinx saw familiarity in you. By chance she saw you on one of her "outings". She witnessed your caring nature in action... a display of love towards someone you cared for.
You were someone completely random. Someone who happened to also have a sibling... a sight echoing the past she yearned to forget. Despite the pain watching you caused... she kept her gaze on you whenever she could.
You were never far from your sibling. It looked like you were similar ages. Jinx felt... envious of your care.
When she sees you, she thinks of Vi. The thought makes her grit her teeth. Yet at the same time... she feels you're different.
She sees you never abandon your sibling as she watches you. She admits she shouldn't be watching, there's nothing special here. But Jinx wishes so deeply to have a piece of that love.
Watching you becomes a past time. She feels happier when you are away from that sibling of yours. It gives her delusions time to fester.
When she watches you alone she imagines you as her sister. She fantasizes of the care you give and the love you show. All a feeling she lost long ago.
Jinx even gets braver and follows you home. When you reside in your home she watches from the windows. All the while she sees you as a new sister, one that can help her, one better than Vi.
When she sees your sibling greet and hug you rage brews in her. She feels her fingers cut into her palms as she watches you and them be happy. She wants that.
Jinx develops a parasocial relationship with you. She believes you're meant to be her sister. She thinks you'll love her like you do your sibling.
Meanwhile all you see is the shape of a young woman in the darkness. You just see glimpses out of the corner of your eye of blue hair late at night. Then by your window you swear you see intense purple eyes.
To you, Jinx is just something... someone you see out of the corner of your eye.
Up until she decides to let herself in and become part of your life.
---
Graffiti art lines the walls in blinding pinks and blues. It's the first thing that meets your eyes in the dimly lit room. Other than that, most of your body feels heavy.
As you regain consciousness you slowly learn more about your situation. Ropes tie you to a chair, restricting your movement. You try to cry out... only for a cloth gag to prevent any noise.
You try to figure out where you are but the location is too unfamiliar. Various things hang from the wall and inventions line a table. It looks like a hideout.
But for who?
"Good to see your awake! Waiting for you was getting boring." A chipper voice rings from the shadows. You feel your body go rigid when a silhouette comes into view. A young woman with long blue braids stares at you with purple eyes.
She gives you a smile before kneeling beside you. Something about her seems familiar but you can't quite tell. Something about those swirling purple eyes unnerves you when she looks at you.
Like they've haunted you for awhile now.
"I was hoping my new sister would be more excited, but I guess it's because we've never met!" The woman sighs, nearly leaning on you. She never takes her eyes off you. She just stares lovingly... like she's been waiting for this.
Sister...?
"Don't scream." Her words are a command as she moves the wet cloth away from your mouth. You cough a few times, your mouth feeling strange and dry. You then see the woman toss the cloth away haphazardly.
"Where am I!? Who are you...?" You find yourself asking in search of some sort of answer. The woman giggles to herself, laying her head in your lap.
"Well... you can call me Jinx. In terms of where you are... you're in your new home!" The woman, Jinx, explains as she makes herself comfortable halfway on your lap.
"Why'd you call me sister...?" You ask cautiously. Jinx's gaze darkens for a moment and she gets off you to pace about the room.
"Because that's what we are! Sisters... we're sisters, aren't we? Ones that never abandon each other... or call each other useless...."
Jinx's tone shifts, lost in thought before shaking herself out of it. You're still confused on what she means. You've never met her before.
"I've never met you... I'm only a sister to one person and that's-"
"Not anymore." Her words are brief and quick. Those same haunting purple eyes glare at you before softening. She then bursts into another fir of giggles. "No, no... they're gone! Just like Vi! It's just us, two sisters... happy with each other!"
You feel anxiety squeeze your gut at her words. Not anymore... she-?
"What did you do!?" You quickly ask, Jinx swapping back to her darker gaze.
"Replaced them I guess." Jinx hums as you choke back a sob. "You don't need them just like I don't need Vi. With you... things will be okay. You'll love me just like them... won't you?"
Jinx stalks closer, her words dangerous. Her gaze stares at you like an apex predator. You say nothing... and she wraps herself around you.
"I'd do anything to be your sister..." Jinx whispers, her grip tightening. "I'd kill for you... anything just to feel your warmth and earn your praise."
"You killed them...?" Your voice is barely a whisper and tears fall from your face. Jinx softly wipes them away before nuzzling her face into your shoulder.
"We were meant to be sisters." Jinx simply continues, not answering your question fully. "I just know you won't betray or abandon me. I won't let that happen."
Jinx giggles again, looking up at you. She strangely acts like a child towards you, smiling like a young kid. She acts like she hasn't killed someone close to you.
"Ever since I first saw you I knew you'd be perfect. I knew you'd be better than... her." Jinx hisses the last bit before sighing. "You'll love me... eventually."
She then jumps off you before swinging herself behind you. You feel her grip your chin before forcing you to look at her. A disturbing grin sears into your memory... accompanied by swirling purple eyes of adoration.
"We've got all the time we could ever need to get to know each other..." Jinx hums before kneeling beside the chair again.
"I just know you'll be different than that liar... won't you, sister?"
💙
178 notes
·
View notes
Text
Arcane: Viktor with a sleepy s/o headcanons
Honestly, he's jealous with not only the amount of sleep you get but how often and quickly you can fall asleep
He may try to study you, finding you interesting and wanting to know more about why you're so tired and sleepy all the time. But he'll inevitably give up the idea and watches you in content, understanding that's just the type of person you are.
He'll melt if he wakes up one morning, on the rare occasion he does go home, and finds your hands tangled in his hair, gently twirling it in your sleep
Definitely draws shapes against your arm as he waits for you to wake up if he's having a lazy day in.
He'll always keep some pillows and blankets for you in the lab if you happen to stop by and stay a while
Doesn't mind you resting against him if you're sitting on a chair or on his good knee. He finds himself twirling your hair as he's writing or thinking, it helps him focus
He'll surprise you with a warm drink when you wake up and some snacks. He's very much a hypocrite where he won't do these things for himself, but not a single snack will be missing in the cupboard he made for you by his desk
He'll eventually buy a blanket he knows you'll love when he passes by a shop and sees a knitted one in the window with your favourite colours in it
He'll call you his little cocoon if you wrap yourself up in blankets
The cheap sofa jayce brought in gets replaced with a nicer one, and Viktor will spend ages laying in all the different ways you sleep, making sure it's comfortable enough.
He may sometimes join you on the sofa, seeing how comfortable you look. But he won't bury himself in blankets the way you do, maybe a light one on top as he rests beside you. But it won't last long as different ideas flood his brain and the need for work takes over.
He'll read his notes to you as you drift off to sleep either in the lab or at home. He knows you love hearing the sound of his voice, but he'll always tell you he likes to read aloud to make sure his notes are accurate
If he comes home and finds you asleep on the sofa, trying to stay awake waiting for him, he'll put a blanket over you and tuck you in, knowing waking you up is a death sentence, but he'll stay up writing notes or checking plans. But every now and then, he'll smile at you snoring quietly.
#arcane viktor#arcane viktor x reader#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#viktor#arcane#viktor arcane x reader
471 notes
·
View notes
Text
Transformation Letter: Michael
Hey, I'm Michael, a 20 year old guy at a top university, but it's not exactly the experience I thought it would be and I just want a change. I'm just kinda an average looking guy with short brown hair, blue eyes and an unremarkable body, pretty average all round. I still wanna be a man at the end of this, being an object isn't exactly appealing to me.
Being accepted at a top university has always been a dream of yours, but boy didn't you anticipate how much work it was going to be. At first, the orientation phase had been pretty fun. But after the first semester was over, you realized just how hard the courses were. It was certainly no comparison to the school you went to before and sometimes you even found yourself envying the people that were in the normal degree program.
Still, you had a dedication to make the best of it and managed to stay in the top tier of your classes. That came at a cost, however. Your social life was pretty much non-existent. It was always late evening when you finished up studying and most of the time you were simply too tired to even think about partying or meeting friends.
You are at your desk now, surrounded by tons of books, and have just begun a new chapter, listening to some lo-fi music from your laptop to help you concentrate. It has been weeks now since you sent that letter to the shady internet company in a moment of weakness. Everything you wrote was true: You don't really hate the university, but it isn't at all how you imagined it to be: A relaxed and laid back episode of your life filled with friends and parties. Everything in you longs for a change, but your ambition keeps you on track.
Still, you normally wouldn't express these thoughts to a stranger like that, and you don't really know why you decided to write the letter in the end. Regardless, it has been weeks now and you doubt there will be any kind of answer. Perhaps the company has gone out of business or has never existed to begin with.
You turn the page of your textbook, looking sighingly at yet another page filled with formulas when suddenly the music coming from your laptop changes.
Where before it has been more of a rhythmic lo-fi noise, the track that just began to play is clearly a pop song, something you have heard at the radio before. You frown. Perhaps Dotify has reached the end of your playlist and has entered that arcane mode with 'recommendations'. You always wondered how in the world the algorithm choses those, as they more often than not have nothing in common with the previous playlist.
You reach over to your laptop to change the music back, but you stop in your tracks. Even though you're not exactly a fan of pop songs, it is quite a catchy tune, so you let it play.
You quickly realize, however, that it's distracting you from your lecture. After you have read the same formula twice over, you lay down the book. Perhaps it’s time for a short break. You lean back in your chair and close your eyes for a moment, rubbing your temples and just listen to the music, trying to recollect what you've learned so far in this session.
However, the more you try to remember and connect the dots, the less you feel like you understand the subject at all. It's like whenever you try to concentrate on a connection you have already made, the cheery tune invades your mind and snaps it in two. The whole thing is just two complicated, beyond your mental reach. You feel dumb admitting that, but perhaps you have to start being honest to yourself. You're just not that bright, and it has probably been a mistake trying to pretend you were and enrolling in this university.
The song ends and a new one begins. This one is more powerful, rock music from the 80s or 90s. It is surprisingly relaxing to just admit defeat, and you open your eyes again, leaning back in your chair, arms crossed behind your head. For a good few seconds, you just stare at the pile of books in front of you before you notice something is off. There's a faint smell of... sweat? Following it with your head, you notice your armpits. You are smelling your own sweat and somehow it is not unpleasant at all.
Additionally, however, you can see that your pits are filled with a generous bush of hair - which is something new for you entirely. You normally don't have any body hair to speak of. Curiously, you take a closer look and sniff, try to pull on them - but the pit hair is clearly here and clearly yours. Weird!
You scratch your chin and are surprised when your hand meets stubble. You have definitely been smooth just a few moments ago. Yet, the bristly texture feels good under your hand. You rub your cheeks, where your facial hair seems to be even denser and smile. It's the kind of manly and mature look that you have always dreamed about, even though it is somewhat unexpected. It's a bit sad that you don't have a mirror, but you can feel it with your hand just fine as the beat of the music continues.
You get up from the chair, stretch your limbs and feel a weird pressure in your crotch. As you look down, you notice that your dick is pressing hard against the fabric of your pants. It's hardly surprising, with the weird changes going on to your body! You wonder...
Sheepishly, you slip out of your shirt and are rewarded with a pretty alien sight: Not only is your chest covered in short dark hair, it is also much more impressive than what you're used to. In fact, there is visible definition, not only in your chest but also in your abs where a thick treasure trail of hairs disappears into your pants. But not only your torso is changed. You can practically watch as with every beat, another pulse goes through your body, adding a bit of manliness, a bit of muscle here and there. Your biceps bulge out as if you work out regularly and even your legs gain a bit of definition.
The music keeps playing, and so do the changes. You are no longer the skinny, nerd boy who struggles with calculus. No, you are a real man, a guy that knows his way around a gym, a guy that is respected by other people. You are not only a man, however, you are a real fine specimen of man, with a powerful aura, a confident smile and a dick that is so hard that it could cut diamonds.
When the next track begins playing, you have to smile. You know that song! It's metal, of course, heavy metal. Your fingers begin to drum on the desk as your body changes further. Now, not only does the hair spread further, it also becomes a bit longer, more shaggy. Even more intelligence flees your eyes as they change from the bright blue to a dull brown, but you don't care. You are going with the rhythm of the music, let yourself being carried by it. Every time you hit the wood of your desk, your motions become more precise and more powerful, the bangs louder and exactly on point. Your muscles bulge out, and the smile on your face widens, until you are full-on grinning.
You don't need any books, any lectures, or anything else anymore. The music is the only thing that is important. As you give yourself over to the rhythm, something important changes. No longer is the beat carrying you, you are carrying the beat. Around you, reality changes as the desk and books dissolve, giving way to an expensive drum kit in front of you. Your clothing melts away until you are only wearing a pair of black leather shorts filled to the brim with your erect cock. You know you're in public but you're too dumb, too careless and most of all too manly to care. Let them see your erection bulge! Your powerful arms bring down the drumsticks with force while the rest of your mates play other instruments, and the frontman shouts the song's lyrics into the microphone. Sweat covers your face and your chest, your hair sticks to your forehead as you put every ounce of strength you can muster into producing the loudest beats possible. You can see the crowd going wild through the light of the stage and a feeling of power surges through you, causing your cock to leak a bit of precum into the front of your shorts.
You're no longer a student, and you're no longer a wimp. You are the drum-man of a heavy metal band, and people love you. They adore you, the way your muscles shine with sweat, the way the drums bang out their beat and the way you seem so happy and carefree, as dumb as a brick.
Wow, I think Michael definitely changed for the better here - and all because of a half-forgotten letter. What do you think, does this body suit him better now?
Over at my riot page (just a tip jar!), you can find a few different versions of Michael.
342 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi, hi it’s me again… your writing was very good, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Now you must be responsible for the consequences…. Which is listening to me ramble.
Anyways, first off small doodle!
This is what I imagine bound arcane egg looks like, and something I didn't explain, my b. Is when arcane egg gets taken to be the “heart” of the hungry ones, it’s basically an in between plane of existence. It’s between the normal world and where the hungry ones reside.
Secondly this is one of two times arcane egg goes to this inbetween, and that second time is more triumphant and it’s where her light of defiance reignites!
Anyways no more exposition, time to talk about some new stuff mainly the aftermath after arcane eggs desperate pleas for death!
Note I do imagine her pleas at that moment go from sad and desperate to manic and desperate, since at this point of the story it’s a nice contrast to how well and collected they’ve appeared so far.
But yeah when they wake up… boi it’s so sad. When they awake their very comatose and quite, very similar to how they were when they came back to life after their death by the hungry ones. I imagine that shadow milk and golden butter are waiting her them to wake up, which arcane egg can’t fathom why but, what ever.
If you haven’t noticed arcane eggs response to their own emotions and emotional problems is to ignore, belittle, or don’t think about it. Which is in sharp contrast on who they USED to be, which was open and tbh the therapist / listener friend. But also they were honest about their feelings, so arcane egg after that display of pure raw emotion acting so… empty greatly upsets her friends.
They’ll try to get an answer but they’ll just get a chill and numb cookie in response, I do imagine they get her to talk at some point after pleading and asking persistently for a while. And it would most likely begin with arcane egg breaking down sobbing and they’ll also shake like a leaf.
Than afterwards if the two ask questions and prod for specifics, she start answering and probably tell the, how she got to this point / her history thus far. She’ll tell them that they’ve died before, that their now both alive but technically an undead thing,… that they thought about taking their own life during the dark flour war.
They wont tell about their complicated feelings about the two of them yet, no not yet. But she will spill how she feels about themselves which is again bad!
How would the two react, o honest don’t know I’ll need to think about it more. Do you have any ideas? You did a good job last time so. Anyways thanks for listening have a good day :D.
(Also tell me if you want me to post ideas to you here or on your side blog!)
Took me awhile to get back to this post-
Anyways, had to do some searching (thanks for the notes.) Ended up being four pages long-
Honestly for some reason this gives me ‘nowhere king’ vibes.
Now, Warnings; implied masscure, war crimes, sucidial thoughts, dissacation.
She blinks awake- her body is heavy and it's hard to move. She feels a hand carding through her hair, for a moment she struggles to move her head, but she does. She mentally feels the want for her shoulders to tense up- but they don’t. Yet Mystic Flour doesn’t stop carding her hands through her hair. For a minute they could almost swear her eyes opened, but she didn't say a word. Carefully moving their head around, she blinks yet again.
The room wasn’t overly big by any means, but it was a decent size. Arcane could spot Silent salt staring out the window, Burning spice was oddly calm as he rubbed his axe. Shifting her focus to the other half- she found Eternal sugar half sitting on a chair, half resting her head in her arms on the bed. Its then she spotted by a table that looked like it was dragged over that Shadow Milk was writing something onto the desk- he looked oddly frustrated. It was… It was an old memory. He’d often be over desks like that when he hit a wall with whatever he was researching or when he was lacking the creativity on his newest project.
For a moment she puzzled over where Golden Butter was, until the door opened. The very person who they thought about walked in with a bag over to Shadow Milk, They closed their eyes as they felt Golden Butters gaze on them. The other sighs, “...Shadow… how is progress?” Shadow Milk seems to growl, “It's honestly worse than I thought! Those Damn witches that sealed us are the reason those fucking thing even exist! And that means they are the main issue on why Arcane is like this!” They can hear a fist slam onto the table, its silent for a moment, before Silent salts' rarely heard voice comes through, “....The witches did this? To her?” They don’t know what Shadow does but they hear the screeching of the chair and his words, “YES! They did! They fucked up Arcane so badly that I’m not even completely sure there is a way to undo it!”
Mystic Flours hand pauses, she hears the other speaks, “.... Shadow Milk….are you… are you sure?” They don’t exactly hear much other then shuffling for the next few moments before an audible sigh, “..I can’t be completely sure at least now.” His tone turns resigned, slightly saddened with a hint of frustration, “If only I had my labs, the tower and…” Her heart drops, she knows just who he was going to say.
Fortune Cookie, his closest pupil.
Fortune Cookie had a bright future ahead of them. At Least until Shadow Milk destroyed his own tower. It was of very little doubt that Fortune cookie was a casualty in that event. Fortune Cookie, she thinks, had a brain even Shadow Milk sometimes struggled with. ‘Boundless creativity filled with sky high genius’ Shadow Milk once put it as. Fortune Cookie who he likely killed.
This hadn’t been the first time he’d regretted it.
She allows her eyes to open, everyone is still in the room just different. Eternal sugar, for once, is awake, and is blankly staring at them, Silent Salt has moved away from his window position, Burning spice had set his axe down and was gripping onto his hair with a fierce look on his face. She couldn’t see Mystic Flour from this view, but she could see Shadow Milk back as Golden Butter looked over him.
He was half hunched over and he was shaking.
Part of them wanted to reassure him it would all work out, but wasn’t that hopeless?
There wasn’t a cure and one person who had the most research on the hungry ones is dead, anything she did note was likely destroyed. It was hopeless.
It threw everyone off the moment they spoke, “It's been a hopeless situation from the start. It would do you all better to just kill me now.” The air in the room became strained just at her words. Shadow Milk straightens up, brushes off Golden Butters Hand and immediately turns around and walks over very calmly. He pushes his hands on the side of the bed and looks directly at her, “We won’t, we’ll find a cure. There isn’t another option.”
She blinks at him, “..You just said it yourself...you don’t know if there is a way to undo it… There isn’t a cure coming.” She shakes her head, “It would be the best choice- the hungry ones would be gone.” Shadow Milk shakes- not in a silent fear or overwhelming sorrow, but in a very poorly suppressed rage. “It doesn’t matter what I just said, I will find a cure.”
Arcane egg stares at him as she speaks, “....Fortune cookie was the only one who had-” He slams his hands on the bed as he shouts, “I’ll bring back the fucking dead if I have to! I’ll face whatever goddamn consequences that come my way!” He sags, “I’ll face Fortune cookie if it means I can help you.” He looks resigned, “I’ll search every single book the witches saved, I’ll tear down kingdom after kingdom and build them back up, If I need to I’ll start a new a tower just to figure out a fucking cure, I’ll let that stupid half-a-cookie replacement of mine keep my damn soul Jam!” The rage slowly wears off, replaced by desperation, “Please- just don’t- never ask me- never ask any of us- I don’t think.” Tears well and fall off his face like the sword of damocles falling, “I don’t think we could take it.”
Something in them hurts, so very deeply hurts in a twisted sense that its like having a vine shoved right into your heart before twisting and growing. Something grabs their left hand, looking over Silent Salt, it seemed he was the one who grabbed it. Burning spice had dragged a chair over and was sitting with the backside facing her as he sat facing her. Eternal Sugar has shifted from her place and is now sitting at the edge of the bed as Shadow Milk and Golden Butter stick to her right. She can spot Mystic Flours dress off the side- likely sitting by the pillows on their left side.
They had all moved to gather closer than previously. The next words flowed out her to easily as she looked at them. She- she doesn’t know what to think.
(She lost count after thousands of years, after watching hundreds of cookies crumble from age. Yet things linger in her memories.)
(Afterall the hungry ones have been with her for almost the same amount-- and it hurts holding them- it hurts in a sense that she can’t quite let go.)
(Everyone left in one way or another and she was left behind, Fortune died, her friends left her behind- and even when she grew close to people they disappeared. She doesn’t have anything- her friends are here now, yes. But they left so long ago- they told her not to come looking for them and-)
(- and they fell.)
Everything- Just feels so overwhelming. This isn’t the first time- something just- they feel so wrong today. They woken up for days with the group here for a number of days- some of them are normally out.
(Burning spice came back once with strawberry jam covering him, Mystic flour and Eternal Sugar just stared him down until he left. They don’t remember much of the few days after that- their head was just buzzing. She noticed the more… careful and hesitant natures when they wake up. All weapons, she noted, were always kept out of sight most times. No one ever came in the room without knocking unless they were ‘cleaned’ as Mystic Flour put it.)
Part of them just- there wasn’t an exact way to put it into words.
(“We have been silent for so long, haven’t we?”)
(“How long must you remain to let your defiance be stamped out?”)
(“Listen to me- to yourself. Defy this fate- fight against it, do not let yourself fall.”)
(“Please- just fight off for a little more. To defy in this moment, allow yourself to be helped.”)
Its quite- a mere echo in her head- but something. Something in her breaks.
Tears, she notes almost mutely, she’s crying.
Someone- she's guessing Mystic Flour sits her up as Shadow Milk crawls his way onto the bed by her sides. Golden Butter sticks to the side but sits on the bed as the rest stay close. She lets it spill out.
She talks about the isolation that happened after Golden Butters sleep, she speaks of the horrors of the experiments of the witches and the hungry ones who were sealed inside her- the war she fought to save cookies who either died or forgot about her actions, she brings up letters she sent- only to learn they never received a single one of hers. She whispers of the dark flour war, the endless death, the chaos that reigned and even traced over scars left from those dark years. Of the violence that she faced in the line of cruelty of Dark Enchantress Cookie.
The room is silent for the longest period, and then she admits the most damning thing.
She admits her death- and coming back different.
The silence is different, its stiff, its twisted and she can see something is off. Shadow Milk is the one who prodes her further with his face towards the ground. She tells the rest what they wanted to hear, she admits everything slowly hesitantly, as tears fall down, as she cries, screams, and breaks down. There are several times someone in the group leaves for a few minutes before coming back in- but Shadow Milk stays the entire time, just staying by her side.
Somehow, she ends up asleep as the rest of the group lingers within the world.
Shadow Milk is frowning as he takes Mystic Flours combing through Arcane Eggs hair, Golden Butter stays by his side as the rest of the group lingers around. Golden slowly speaks, “..I should’ve focused on her- I was so- I was so caught up in my own misery that I…” Golden Butter looks down. Shadow Milk sighs, laying a head on her shoulder. Its silent before he speaks, “We’ve been dealt a shitty hand- just-” He looks frustrated before looking at Arcane egg and his face softens in sad way, “...We just been playthings for the witches- they’ve- They’ve been treating us like that for so long.. I just-” Burning Spice speaks up, “They will pay.”
His words are followed by nods as Shadow Milk echos his friends words, “They will pay.” He pets Arcanes Hair, “But not now. For now, we tend to our wounds and we focus on finding a cure.” Its an unsaid agreemnt by the others.
Right now, tending in their own in the focus.
Vengeance upon The witches, Dark Enchantress cookie and any other cookie else can wait until they’ve recovered.
Then, all cards were off.
#cookie run kingdom#cookie run au#cookie run oc#cookie run x reader#shadow milk cookie#shadow milk x reader#beast yeast#burning spice cookie#mystic flour cookie#eternal sugar cookie#silent salt cookie
49 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hola!Can I request an arcane headcanon where the reader who has a habit of playing with their own hair?And what would be the arcane characters reaction to it?Ty!
THIS IS SO-AHHH
.: arcane masterlist :.
𝐟𝐭 -> 𝐯𝐢, 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐱, 𝐜𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧, 𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐨, 𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫
°𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 °
VI
my heart. as we all know, she’s not accustomed to physical affection as much as she should be, seeing how the only physicality that flew her way for the past few years had been a series of beatings.
and being so stubborn, she absolutely denies being touch starved
so the first time you touched her hair she just. froze
she’d been at the kitchen table wrapping her arms up when you found her, giving her a sleepy grin and moving to stand behind her chair to watch
“hey there,” she grinned at you.
you hummed. “g’morning.”
nonchalantly, your fingers grazed through the pink strands in the direction the spiked bangs laid, eyes staring off in thought
vi instantly looked up. she didn’t say anything at first, initially expecting you to stop
but you just kept going
she awkwardly clears her throat. “uh, whatcha’ doin there…?”
you blink a few times. “oh sorry. force of habit..”
your fingers stop their movements and she frowns.
“oh.. well, i mean…if you wanna keep doing it, i mean..you can.”
you grin again and continue the action, earning a deep sigh from her.
this becomes a regular occurrence from then on between you two. either vi will lay herself on your lap or rest her head on your chest, but always you running your fingers through her scalp.
and almost every single time she drifts to sleep. and then you do, too
JINX
on the complete opposite side, it didn’t take long for you to realize jinx was not opposed to affection at all.
in fact, she was usually the one initiating it! with koala-bear embraces or poking your shoulder or bumping your head with hers, etc etc.
so you didn’t really think too much of it when you played with her hair the first time
you approached her at her work desk with a happy smile, jinx throwing back her head to greet you before going back to whatever it was she was messing with
“what are you working on?”
“hmm.. just some stuff. you knoww.”
before she could go further into detail your hands sifted up and down her braids, twirling the ends around the tips of your fingers
when she felt the slight tugging sensation she paused and lifted her goggles to peer at you.
you were too in your thoughts to notice her giggling.
“having fun there, tink?”
“what was that?”
she raised a brow and looked at her braid laying in your hand which caused you to laugh.
“ah, my bad. it’s a habit of mine.”
she giggles again and goes back to her desk. she’s not like vi where she absolutely adores the feeling, it’s kind of more just a thing that happens every now and then that she goes along with
EKKO
no because how can you resist he’s got the coolest hair ever
i picture him as pretty introverted when it comes to affection, it takes a lot of trust and time to open up to someone seeing how he’s lost a lot in his life
it’d have to be pretty long into the relationship before he ever drops his full guard around you, and when he finally grows accustomed to pda is when you touched his hair for the first time
“hey. they said they’ll be ready to head out in 10.” you called out to him from the doorway.
ekko gave you a brief glance and grunted. “got it. just gotta finish this up.”
you trudged over to where he was sat on his mattress, an open journal and pencil in hand.
“what are you doing?”
“..journaling. writing down thoughts about tomorrow, and the future. it helps clear my head.”
you hummed while sitting on your knees beside him, fingers moving to twist the ends of his dreads.
he chuckled. “what are YOU doing?”
you paused. “ah. it’s a habit, i do it without thinking sometimes.”
he closes his journal and bashfully looks away.
“well, it’s…not a bad habit.”
very sweet about it, and gets super embarrassed about it every time you compliment or care for his hair afterwards
CAITLYN
as we transition to topside, caitlyn i feel has experienced tender affections before
maybe not so much now as an adult, but growing up her mother would style or brush her hair every now and then, and she didn’t realize how much she missed the feeling until you did it to her
her hair was a bit tangled after a day’s work, you noticed, after laying in bed with her for a couple minutes
she was preoccupied with reading a new novel, while you stared at the blue locks framing her face
“how’s your book going?”
she scoffed. “pretty interesting, actually. the knight has just torn up the city searching for his soon-to-be-bride, but the bride’s actually the one who ran away from him in the first place.”
she lightly shook her head. “sometimes these characters are so dramatic, but still entertaining.”
you laughed while raising a finger to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, the tip of your finger lingering in her scalp a bit longer
caitlyn peered at you through the corner of her eye.
“are you staring..?”
you blinked a few times and grinned. “maybe. but it’s also a habit of mine to play with hair, sorry bout that.”
she cleared her throat. “no need to apologize.. it felt nice, actually.”
your grin grew wider as you sat up to play with her hair more properly. as the night stretched on, caitlyn felt herself leaning more and more into your touch.
every now and then, you’ll experience the more tender, soft moments with her like this one, and they always leave the most impact in your heart
VIKTOR
sweet, sweet, man
so touch starved and deprived of love he wants to be held so bad i just know it
of course, the moments he desperately craves breaths of release and relief is when he’s overworked in his lab
dark circles under his eyes, notes scattered on the desk, body aching
one night he didn’t come home at the usual time, hence the reason for you stumbling into his lab unannounced
he was barely awake in his chair, upper body leaning on the desk and eyes starting to close
“i think it’s time for bed, hun.” you calmly spoke while weaving your fingers through his messy hair
he sighed at the feeling while sitting back up. “..you might be right about that.”
you smiled as you stared at his notes, mindlessly reading them all. you didn’t notice the way viktor leaned his weight onto your hands caressing his scalp, eyes closed yet again
your fingers stilled. “oh, sorry, i didn’t realize i was still doing that.”
he shook his head.
“no, i enjoy it..feels nice after a day like today.”
it took a while for you to get him to leave the lab following the interaction
viktor refused to fall asleep without you playing with his hair first after that night. even if it’s to relax for just a couple minutes, he comes to you for the relief of stress
A/N: for some reason, every time i typed this request out on my computer it kept deleting, so i wrote this on my phone so hopefully the layout isn’t too weird!! hope you enjoyed :)
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane headcanon#arcane vi#vi x reader#arcane vi x reader#arcane jinx#jinx#jinx x reader#arcane jinx x reader#ekko#arcane ekko#ekko x reader#arcane ekko x reader#caitlyn kiramman x eader#caitlyn kiramman#arcane caitlyn x reader#arcane caitlyn kiramman#arcane viktor#viktor x reader#arcane viktor x reader#headcanon
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Bouncing Baby Bloodsucker
Astarion and Tav had no reason to suspect that the undead would be able to reproduce. Turns out they were wrong. They approach Shadowheart with one question on their minds: will a baby vampire kill a human parent?
Trans Male!Tav/Astarion whoopsy-daisy into becoming dads.
Rated: M
Read me on [AO3]
“Well yes,” Shadowheart snipped, “that’s usually what happens when you have unprotected sex.”
“Between the living, yes, but the undead shouldn’t be able to-- right?” Tav asked, pitching forward in his seat. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Astarion that his hands had been held loosely over his protruding stomach ever since he began to suspect that the morning sickness, skipped periods, and extra weight was more than a rough patch in his health.
Shadowheart folded her arms, raising a brow, “I’m hardly an expert. Why didn’t you go to a normal doctor?”
“What a good idea Shadowheart! I’m sure any local doctor will act completely reasonably when they find out that a foul creature of the night left a surprise vamplet inside him. Should we break out the good torches and pitchforks?”
Despite his shortness, Astarion’s knuckles were held tight against his sides, reaching a shade of white that was truly alarming given his natural paleness, and he was pretty sure he was shaking to boot. The guilt; -- at not knowing better, at not taking precautions, of putting a bloodsucking demon with an unknown depth of hunger into his beloved partner, endangering them from the inside in a way he couldn’t begin to help with, -- wracked through his body in fresh waves as his thoughts spiralled like a madman’s.
“Shadowheart,” Tav pleaded, grabbing one of her hands in his, “We need to know what we’re dealing with here.”
She sighed, face screwing in concentration. “Fine. Hold on.”
She rose from her chair, marching across the room to pull some writing paper and an ink pen out from an old drawer, the pen scratching against the page disturbing an otherwise silent room.
Tav gave Astarion a weak smile, who in turn couldn’t muster one of his own. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Astarion mouthed to him, but it only made Tav’s brow furrow. He reached over and grabbed his hand, pulling it out of its fist, rubbing his thumb across his aching knuckles as he held it gently in his palms. The kindness of the gesture had Astarion’s stomach in uncomfortable knots. He couldn’t have told you how many people he had had sex with over the centuries, but the idea that his biology had only chosen to kick in now felt like a cruel joke the world was playing on him. Or rather, he really, really hoped his biology had only chosen to kick in now. The alternative was too ghastly to imagine.
“Alright, hopefully we’ll hear back soon.” Shadowheart broke the silence. She held the paper in clasped hands and muttered a few arcane words over it, the letter bursting into blinding divine radiance before disappearing from sight. She sat back down, levelling Tav with a sympathetic stare. “Are you alright? You look sick.” (Astarion tensed.)
“I don’t know how I am, it’s just… all so much. I’ve barely slept since we realised that I might be-- I think I’m too exhausted for it to have truly sank in yet.”
“I should take you back home,” Astarion said, his voice cracking at the end.
“You’re also free to sleep here for a while, if you like.”
Tav nodded, pulling his hand away from Astarion’s, and with it the little reassurance he had. “Thank you Shadowheart, really. I know all of this really isn’t your thing.”
“No, it’s not, but your little interloping tadpole is hardly the first daunting task we’ve dealt with together. At least this one doesn’t make a meal of your brain.” The joke fell flat as the unspoken sentiment filled a glaring hole in the conversation. A meal of his brain, perhaps not, but a vampire foetus to a living father hardly spells good news. Shadowheart sighed to herself softly, “The bedsit is through there, make yourself at home.”
Tav nodded and stood, leaning down to kiss his partner's cheek gently, before leaving the room silently, their absence haunting the chair next to Astarion. He crossed his legs, hands buried deep into the crook of his elbows as he and Shadowheart began a staring competition.
Loathe as he was to, he broke first. “Well?” He said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “Is he going to die?”
“We won’t know for certain until we hear back.” Shadowheart answered truthfully, “But it’s not looking good. He seems to have the markers of a regular pregnancy for now, but it’s likely because the thing doesn’t have teeth to bite yet.”
Astarion flinched. “We didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“But it did.” Shadowheart snapped, before tempering her rage, blowing a short breath out. “Listen, I don’t think you’d do anything to intentionally hurt him, not anymore. But the truth is that the living and the dead are incompatible. It just doesn’t work. The living are always going to end up dead, or the dead are destroyed so the living might continue.”
Astarion shook his head. “No, we’ve been through far too much now to just give up anytime there’s a bump in the road. We’ll figure this out and be more careful from now on.”
“Astarion.” Shadowheart warned. “Depending on what we hear back, there might not be a ‘from now on’, do you understand that? You spent so long luring people back for Cazador, why did it never occur to you that this could be possible?”
“Do you think I should have asked before or after torture sessions?” he snapped in return. “There was hardly a guidebook he handed out when he turned us, and the welcoming committee -- my darling siblings -- didn’t know any more than me either.”
Shadowheart straightened up, “Your siblings.”
“Yes, what about them?”
“You have six of them. And seven thousand more victims roaming the Underdark.”
“If they survived, yes.”
“Well surely you can’t be the first that this has happened to. If it’s true that Cazador never mentioned it was possible to you, they wouldn’t know either. Do you think you could find some of them? Ask around to see if anybody down there has had the same problem as you?”
Astarion’s brow creased in distaste. “Even if I could find some of them, for a lot of them I’m the last person they want to see, especially heralding a new breed of vampire.”
“This is hardly about you now is it?” Shadowheart shot back.
He grimaced. “Fine. I’ll travel to the Underdark at sundown tomorrow.”
“At this point it’s the least you could do.”
The room fell silent. Unable to retort, his wit replaced with worry, he stewed. Astarion knew he had done many terrible things in his life, and even more in his death, but he feared this might have been the worst.
A few hours passed of little note. Unmoving, his mind raced, and a cup of untouched water stood equally still on the table before him, the subject of his steady gaze. With his flawless skin and rigid posture, he could have passed for a statue. Shadowheart had left to do something earlier, Astarion wasn’t really listening, his ears roaring with stolen blood. And so he was alone. With the cup. Fuck.
It clatters against the wall violently and Astarion’s chest heaves with effort, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.
A moment later, a sleep disturbed face peeks through the doorway.
“Astarion!” Tav gasped.
"I'm sorry, I woke you up. Gods. I just--" He struggled to find the words.
"Are you okay?"
“Am I okay? No, I'm not okay. I spent centuries being tortured by Cazador and the first good thing I have after getting out, of being free, I ruin it with this disgusting body of mine. I have countless victims, destroyed by this,” he spits, gesturing wildly at himself, “and yet I couldn’t be done, could I? I had to claim just one more. So no, Tav, I have to say, I am not fucking okay.”
Tav’s face paled as they swallowed visibly. “I’m not a prop."
“What?” Astarion asked incredulously.
“I said I’m not a prop, Astarion.” He put his hands on his hips, the way he did before he was about to make a point. “You didn’t do anything to me, we had sex together, and I’m not destroyed just because I have a piece of you inside of me. I don’t want you to think of me like that. I’m better than that. You’re better than that.” He gripped Astarion's forearms. “Do you understand? I don’t know what any of this means for me, for us, and I’m not going to lie to you, I am terrified. But I need you to be terrified with me, not terrified for me, and that requires us to be on the same page with this. We fucked up, we’re scared, and we’ll figure it out. Together. As equally responsible participants. Okay?”
“I just feel like I should have known.”
“As should I.”
His tears fell over. “I am scared.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I know.”
“What now?”
“We wait for Shadowheart to get back to us with more information. We know nothing, we’re just guessing based on our worst fears. When we know, we’ll know.”
“That’s incredibly unhelpful.”
“... I know.”
“What if--”
The door creaked open and Shadowheart stood in the doorframe, surveying the scene with an icy stare, something rectangular in her hands.
“You washed my walls. How kind of you both.”
“Sorry, Shadowheart.” Tav said, letting his hands drop.
“Gale got back to us,” she waved the rectangle at them.
Astarion spluttered, “It was Gale you wrote to?!”
“Yes. If you want information, who better to ask than the former wizarding prodigy without a social life to speak of?”
“Oh Gods, everyone’s going to know,” Tav moaned, rubbing his brow.
“Gale doesn’t shut up when you get him going, but he does know I can hurt him very, very badly. Excellent motivator, don’t you think?”
“What did he say?” Astarion asked reluctantly.
“See for yourself.” She handed the rectangle to Tav, which he could now make out was a loose letter tied to a dusty mauve tome.
He took it, opening the letter with shaking hands. He felt Astarion immediately press against his back, reading over his shoulder.
This should do it Shadowheart, will write you properly soon.
Dearest Tav and Astarion --
I believe some congratulations are in order! It’s no easy task to prepare for a new member of the family, but even more so with the kind you have cooking away. Should you find yourselves in need of a break, please remember Uncle Gale in his Waterdeep tower.
The good news is that the children of vampires -- known as dhampirs -- can lead a perfectly normal life. They can sustain themselves both on blood and regular food, they possess strange talents such as walking across vertical surfaces, and their physical appearances are as varied as any humanoid race, although it is likely they’ll possess some vampiric qualities--, i.e, elongated canines, red, or glowing eyes, ashen skin, the like -- but hardly the monsters their vampire parents are portrayed to be -- no offence Astarion.
I’ve sent along a tome I possess on the matter, please do take good care of it. I’ve bookmarked the relevant pages. From what I’ve read, there is no cause for alarm, although the (fascinating!) gestation period may not be as expected dear friends, so please pay close attention to Chapter 18, section 3. The bad news is that there’s no training guide on how to look after these children. You have a big challenge ahead of you both! But I’m sure between the two of you, as wonderful as you are for each other, you will figure out, like any parents, how to move forward with your new little family unit.
Please visit sometime, it would be wonderful to see you both, and I am unfortunately currently unable to disrupt my teaching schedule to make the trip to Baldur’s Gate. Perhaps with a little one on the way, one of you will accept my offer to introduce you to that fine Waterhavdian jeweller that I’ve mentioned previously?
P.S. Gale makes a fine middle name, don’t you think?
Yours Faithfully,
Prof. Gale Dekarios
“Wait a moment,” Astarion said, “Does this mean--?”
Tav whipped around to face him, eyes wide, grasping the letter like a lifeline, “We’re okay?”
“We’re okay.”
“We’re okay!”
He launched at Astarion, arms curling around the back of his neck, and he caught his waist, hauling him up into a hug.
“I can’t believe it,” Tav gasped as Astarion let him down, still in a close embrace. “We--! Oh. We have a lot to talk about. Do we want a baby?”
Astarion spluttered. “I--”
“I mean, babies are big responsibilities. And we’re hardly the most stable people in the world.” He gripped his own head. “The amount of weapons we have at home. We’d need to babyproof the blades. Can you babyproof a mace?”
“We’d need to get jobs. Real jobs, I mean. We couldn’t be on the move all the time.”
“And the cost. Babies are expensive little creatures. And the time. They need so much attention.”
“Exactly. It’s a horrible idea.”
“Terrible. We wouldn’t be able to cope. We should definitely do the responsible thing here and get rid of them.”
“Right.”
“We’re in agreement. Take that for incompatible you horrible little cleric.” Astarion sneered.
“What?”
“I didn't have to help!”
The screams pierce the house, the walls shaking as two toddlers whirled around their legs like miniature steel watchers, destroying everything in their path.
“Aren’t they precious?” Petras cooed, looking after his blond-haired son who was currently smashing his tiny fists at the wall as he tried to remember how to walk up it.
“Our little darling, perhaps, but your little demon seems to have the brains of his father,” Astarion curled his lip.
As Astarion spoke, their daughter, a bright-eyed little girl, growing more beautiful with each passing day, shoved an ink pen up her nose. He shot her a withering glare, the toddler blissfully unaware of the social disaster she had just created for him. She was lucky he thought the world of her, or he might have pinned her to the ceiling, out of the way.
“Clearly,” Petras scoffed.
“Thanks again for your help Petras, we both appreciate it. We really have no idea what we’re doing here.” Tav spoke up.
Petras nodded, “It’s a bit macabre to put such a little one into a coffin, but it really is the best way to make sure they don’t start running across the ceilings at night, and our Eric had grown out of his months ago. Do you have that soothing salve recipe I gave you?”
“Yes! Thank you.”
“She’ll be getting her fangs in soon. They’ll push out the teeth that are already there and it’ll hurt, and not only that, but when they do grow in, they’re sharp, so you’ll need to get her some caps until you can teach her to keep them out of the way. It’s not pretty, but she’ll be okay.”
“Daddy!” a little voice yelled insistently, and three heads snapped round. Their little girl ran to Astarion, “Stuck.” She pointed to her nose, the black pen protruding from the nostril.
“Oh for the love of--” Astarion hooked under her arms to pull her up onto his hip. “Okay, let’s see. Tilt your head back. Okay. One, two, three.” He pulled the pen, grimacing at the disgusting thing -- and the pen was pretty gross too. “Don’t put anything up your nose. Please?”
“Down!” She demanded.
“Darling.”
“Dooooown!!!”
He let the wriggling toddler out of his arms, placing the pen gingerly off to the side as Petras suppressed a laugh.
“I must say, fatherhood suits you Astarion.”
“Shut up,” he growled.
“Anyway, I need to go, sunrise soon. We’re teaching Eric to be diurnal, but he still seems to prefer the night. I don’t mind it, means I can spend more time with him.”
“That we can agree on,” Astarion said. “I miss her during the day.”
Tav pulled his arm through his comfortingly. “I told you we’ll figure it out.”
“I know.”
“If you do find anything out about that cure thing, send word yeah? I know a couple hundred people that’d want to get their hands on that.”
“Naturally.”
“Right. Eric!” He called, and Eric’s small eyes went wide as he heard his dad speak the dreaded words, “Time to go.”
Blink. Blink. Havoc. Screaming. A sharp nip into the meat of Petras’s arm. (‘Where are your teething caps?!')
Finally, they were alone, standing in a loose embrace as they watched their daughter roam the living room with the rapt attention of a dedicated jungle explorer.
“Why did it have to be Petras?” Astarion moaned flatly.
“We should be grateful. He does all the hard work and we steal the results. Too bad he’s an idiot.”
Astarion snorts, pressing his cheek on top of Tav’s head.
21 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi I'm back with a crazy idea 😭😭 feel free to ignore this if it's too confusing to write lol. (Also sorry if my English doesn't make sense at all. I'm also not religious so forgive me if I say smt that's wrong or rude)
You know how dm is said to be a 'devil in human disguise' right? What if it had a literal meaning and he was a demonic creature who likes causing chaos. And then he just had to fall for a girl who's the daughter of a bishop. She just happens to be sensitive towards the aura demons give out and gets confused as to why there's an evil aura in d.m.'s house and now he has to convince her that nothing is wrong.
Lmao I'm sorry I get the weirdest ideas ever, thanks and have a nice day/night 😔
I think I understood the idea but got lost midway so I just kept some points and added other things.
Rated T | Warnings: none
You may not understand the arcane world or the rules that follow them, but you do know a devil is not a good thing. The fact you are here staring at the contract your father signed many, many, years ago before he became a high-standing member of the community and the church. An archdevil, the false name of Désire Mélodis, a pillar of society and a member of the Parliament. He holds power both in the world you know and in the arcane world, his wealth can be seen all over the house and in the way he smiles at you. The smile that reaches his eyes as you read the fine print of the contract.
“His most precious fruit,” You laugh dryly, “The fruit of his loins being his child.”
“Yes,” Standing up from his chair and snapping his fingers causing the contract to disappear. “I have allowed him the curtsy to keep you longer than agreed-- You will find I have a heart.” Touching his chest where a heart should be, “However, a deal is a deal and I have only addressed him in the letter to gently remind him of his agreement.”
You cross your arms, “And I have no say in this.” A statement because there is no point in questioning this madness.
“Precisely.” Oh, he is going to like you, “You came to me knowing your father was attempting to hire some fools to break him from this civilized agreement.”
You take a deep breath before glaring at him, “Your honey words taste like shit, sir,” He is taken by surprise by the foul language used by you, “Fuck you. Fuck all of this! And whatever you plan to do with me, understand I will not be used in a sick ritual or tortured or--”
“My mate.” Cutting off your rant, “Your father agreed to help and raise in the creation of a mate for me.” Moving around the desk to stand before you. You do not like the smell of sulfur and lavender. “Nothing harmful. You are to live and want for nothing so long as you are bound to me.” His hand takes your left hand as a ring magically appears in his other hand.
#idv#anon ask#reader insert#identity v x reader#identity v#idv joseph x reader#joseph desaulnier x reader#idv joseph#idv photographer#identity v joseph#joseph desaulnier#joseph desaulnier x you#photographer x reader#identity v photographer
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
may I request headcannons for arcane? :> if so, here’s my request, if not perfectly fine this just went pop into my head.
Fandom: Arcane
Characters: Whichever and however many you please I have no real preference other than jinx or Vi
the headcannon: Basically just if someone were to threaten their s/o / if someone started beating up their s/o
If that’s not specific enough feel free to message me! Your doing great on ur stories :D
thank you so much !!! ♡
tw ❦ blood, reader getting beat up
platonic ❦ romantic ❦ neutral
fandom ❦ arcane
character(s) ❦ violet, jinx
ᴠɪᴏʟᴇᴛ
if someone were to threaten to beat you up, she would threaten them right back
would 100% be in their face
if they tried to do something, she would punch that asshole somewhere google maps ain’t ever gonna find ‘em (ignoring the fact that doesn’t exist)
however if she were to walk in on someone beating you up
ohohohoho
that bitch is gonna have at least a third of their bones broken
(do i know what that means? no, because i’m an idiot in math terms)
she will beat that sucker u p
even if you can hold your own, she is VERY protective of you, and if someone hurts you they’re dead meat.
after she beats their ass she’ll tend to your wounds (even if it’s just a minor scratch)
becomes a bit more protective of you for awhile afterwards
ᴊɪɴx
well first of all, jinx being who she is, someone threatening to beat you up is a bit unlikely, much less someone actually beating you up
however if someone were to threaten to do so, jinx would just laugh and dare them too, looking a bit insane
and if that insane look of hers somehow doesn’t fend them off and they actually try something
jinx would stare at them with a crazed look in her eyes before saying something like,
“what did you just do?”
before laughing and blowing their ass up
i myself feel that jinx isn’t as good with hand-to-hand combat as she is with her inventions,
and so, if she were to walk in on something actively beating you up, i have a feeling instead of beating them up she would just. fire fishbones at them
problem solved you’re safe that’s what matters 👍🏻
you’re jinx’s top priority
no matter what
hope you enjoy! jinx’s was hard cuz she’s kinda unpredictable but i hope i did her justice ^^
#chair writes#chair writes for arcane#arcane#arcane x reader#jinx x reader#vi x reader#violet x reader#vi headcanons#arcane headcanons#jinx headcanons#jinx x reader arcane#vi x reader arcane
317 notes
·
View notes
Note
FAVOURITE FANFICTION FROM EVERYONE!!!!
AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY!!!!!
*camera being set up by Clotpole and Dollophead*
Dollophead: *looks on clipboard* So... who's going first?
Clotpole: *fixing camera and computer* It's... Toby this time, I think.
Dollophead: What happened to Jim?
Clotpole: Well, after he hacked into the system to play Shameless on the speakers, the Dark Raven and Queen of Maids agreed that it wouldn't be good for him to go first since he had more time to hack into the speakers.
Dollophead: *groans* And why exactly are we taking my girlfriend's advice on this?
Clotpole: Simply because it's best to. No one messes with the Dark Raven, and you know that very well.
Dollophead: *snorts* Oh, so she gets Dark Raven as a name, but I got stuck with fucking Dollophead-
Clotpole: Toby, get in here!
*Toby enters, smiling nervously*
Clotpole: Sit. Now.
*Toby sits down on the chair*
Clotpole: Now, what is your favourite fanfiction, huh?
Toby: I cannot believe you shadow portalled us all the way from Arcadia at 4 am-
Clotpole: Do it, or I'm dropping you in Gatto's mouth.
Toby: Fine! Umm... Your Future Hasn't Been Written by @sakon76. 161 chapters so far, angsty, but honestly a good read. But I want to kill Arthur. For sure. But there are so many things I don't understand- all because Jim doesn't explain them. Such as the Green Knight-
Dollophead: Okay, that's it. Next!
*Toby jumps out of chair and goes to stand next to Dollophead*
Toby: Dude, how do you deal with her-
Dollophead: I've known her since she was 3. That's how.
*Darci enters the room, and sits down on the seat, smiling*
Clotpole: *smiles* Hey, Darce. If you don't mind telling me, what is your favourite fanfiction?
Darci: *thinks* It has to be... A Secret's Worth by @rosemaidenvixen. It's way too good. I literally just finished it the other day when she posted the last chapter. I really like how she took to writing Jim's and Barbara's problems with the CPS and that one scene where Strickler was combing through Jim's hair and showed that he actually worried about him because Jim was losing hair because he was stressed.
Dollophead: *ticks name on clipboard* Thank you, Darci. Next!
*Darci gets up and walks over to Toby*
Toby: How is she so nice to you?!
Darci: Because I don't make Clotpole angry.
Dollophead: Well, I don't make her angry-
Darci: D, that's simply the dynamic you have. She bosses you around, you snark at her. But we know you guys are like brother and sister-
Dollophead: I have a sister and she has a brother-
Darci: But you guys still care about each other. We can all see the bromance. And you respect her rules- like no touching her and making sure to tell her when to pray-
Clotpole: *giggles* Guys, please, we can talk about D's and my dynamic later. *puts on serious face* NEXT PERSON, C'MON- WE DON'T HAVE ALL DAY!
*Eli enters, stumbling over his feet*
Eli: Sorry, sorry, I'm here.
Clotpole: Did Steve push you?
Eli: *nods* Yeah.
Clotpole: I'll deal with him later- or Hairdo Guy will. Anyway, Eli, what is your favourite fanfiction.
Eli: Probably the series Tear Me in Two (The Moonlight will Anyway) by @avirxy. I really like how they turned our life into a monster hunting AU, with Claire as the werewolf and Mary as a banshee. I think it actually really fits the concept, and it's so well written as well.
Clotpole: *nods* One of my favourites as well, if we're being completely honest. I'll read it at midnight for no reason- just when I want to see some angst. But their Arcane Blight is by far my favourite. Anyway, thank you Eli, AND NEXT!
*Eli gets off the chair and Steve comes into the room, and sits on the chair*
Clotpole: Favourite fanfiction, Steve?
Steve: Through the Veil by @pinkytoothlesso11. That's a good one. I- I really don't know what to say, apart from the fact I'm glad that some of us got a happy ending. It makes me a little hopeful.
*Toby raises an eyebrow*
Toby: Didn't I die in that one-
Dollophead: Shut up!
Clotpole: Thank you Steve, and NEXT!
*Mary walks into the room, filing nails*
Clotpole: *rolls eyes* Mary, c'mon, we don't have all night- I need to get back home before my mom finds out I'm not doing Chemistry revision for goodness sake! Now, what is your favourite fanfiction.
*Mary sits on chair*
Mary: Probably... There is a lot about me you don't know by
@generalallxsanjishipper or Killian44peeta on ao3. They're good at writing Douxie and his trauma. Also Jim being scared by the bathtub gives me the feels but also makes me kind of laugh because of that one time when he tried to move that one bathtub in that store and pretty much-
Clotpole: *stops smiling* Okay, okay, we get it, Mary, and thank you. NEXT!
*Claire enters the room and sits down on the chair*
Clotpole: Okay, favourite fanfiction, Claire?
Claire: I think I've said this before but Mirrored convictions by @albentelisa. It's too good- it just fuels me whenever I read a chapter. I especially liked that bit with Jim and the Gravesand and Mrs Shen, and then that bit after where Jim stabs Barbara in the thigh. I don't know why but it gave me this weird feeling that this would escalate later on. Can't wait for Chapter 67!
Clotpole: *grins* Honestly, I can't wait either. And finally, last but not least- JIM, GET YOUR ASS INSIDE HERE!
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shotgunning W/ Arcane Characters
A/n: So what I’m the last person on earth to watch Arcane? I do have a pea brain and dyslexia so if anything feels inconsistent I apologize. I’m trying to write as gender neutral as possible :’0 but ya know nice and constructive feedback is always welcome! This has not been proof read so please spare me.
Feel free to request anything- my ask box is open!
Prompt: Arcane characters shotgunning with their S/O
Characters: Silco and Sevika (Separately)
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ MNDI, Language, Smoking, Kissing, Gambling, Tobacco, Illicit Drug (not shimmer)
Silco:
“Staring is a bad habit little bird,” Silco’s monotone voice startled you out of a trance you had unknowingly fallen into.
You can’t say you were surprised you were caught, your general curiosity often got the better of you. You’re known to stare off into space and wander, it’s a surprise Silco’s not got you on a leash yet.
Recently something about the way Silco looked while smoking was just mesmerizing to you. Maybe it was how peaceful he looked as he leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and took a drag from his cigar. Or the deep guttural groan he’d sometimes let out as he exhaled clouds of smoke after a frustrating business meeting.
Regardless of the reason, you quickly avert your gaze and mumble a quick apology, hoping he doesn’t say anything else.
“What has enamored your attention now dove?” Even as he so rudely and blatantly did precisely what you wished he hadn’t, he had a cigar hanging from his lips. He didn’t have to look so good while making you feel so small.
Well, it couldn’t be avoided now.
“Y-Your cigar,” You feebly confessed, swallowing every ounce of your pride in the process. “I was watching you smoke.”
Finally, he looked up from his paperwork to you, intrigue spread across his face. A raised eyebrow was your only cue to elaborate.
“I was wondering if I could maybe try?”
Now was as good as any other time you could ask, you supposed.
“Hm?” He removed the cigar from his mouth and looked back and forth between you and it through half-closed eyes.
“Come here,” He said firmly after pondering for a while. Your heart began to race immediately sending waves of warmth throughout your body and to your center.
“I can’t let you smoke from this, no. It's far too big for such a delicate bird like you,” he started, sitting you in his lap. A disappointed look quickly overcame your face.
“I do have something else in mind, however,” he took a long draw from his cigar and took your face into his other hand. Your face was on fire, there was no way he couldn’t feel it. “Don’t fret.”
“Closer, dove,” his voice was nearly a whisper.
When your lips met he gently blew the smoke into your mouth. You swallowed every bit of it, to you it was as if he was giving you your last breath.
His lips were warm on yours and the taste of mint invaded your tastebuds. The smoke sweetly burned your throat as you inhaled and the head rush made you feel light-headed in the best way possible. Oh how you wished there were a way to save this moment and relive it over and over again.
“How was that my dove?” He asked upon pulling away.
“Good.” you exhaled, the remaining smoke leaving your lungs as you did.
Not that he needed to ask, the way your body had succumbed to him told him what he needed to know.
Sevika:
You spent most of your nights on Sevikas arm as she played cards. You’d sip on the fruitiest cocktail the Last Drop had to offer and your girlfriend would spend the night giving everyone a run for their money.
And while that's always fun, your eyes and mind tend to wander after a while of drinking. The relationship between Sevika and you could hardly be described as healthy most nights. Sevika knew she couldn’t trust you enough not to get yourself into trouble, hence why you were always sitting in her lap or next to her with an arm draped around your waist or shoulder. Too many times you’d wander out of her sight and she’d find you with your ass pressed against some loser trying to “teach” you how to play pool.
She had no interest in those toxic games tonight so you were sitting right next to her with your legs crossed over one of her spred legs. Frankly You had no intrest in games tonight either, but you couldn’t help feel a little playful after a few drinks so your eyes had begun wandering for entertainment.
They found interest in the lit cigarillo hanging uncerimoniously from Sevika’s mouth. Whatever it was packed with burned a deep blue that had you stuck in a trance. Occasionally when she took too long pondering her cards ash would fall from the tip and onto your shoes, but you didn’t mind as your eyes would follow the movement using it as an opportunity to shamelessly look her up and down. It didn’t take Sevika too long to notice you staring almost hungrily in her peripheral.
“Whats caught your eye, kitten?” She asked. She didn’t look up from her cards but a rough hand found your thigh to let you know you had her attention.
“Your cigarillo,” you sigh leaning into her. “Can I try?”
Sevika hummed pondering your question she momentarily leaned over to lay a card down. When she leans back she gives your thigh a gentle squeeze almost teasingly before lifting her hand to remove the cigarillo from her mouth.
“You wanna try?” She asks showing you the lit butt. You nod eagerly ready to take it, but before you can she put it back in her mouth. “Ah ah ah.”
You pout.
“Poor kitten,” She mocked whilst taking a rather large drag. The cards in her other hand had disappeared, and when it came to cradle your face you nearly began purring. “Well c’mere then.”
When your lips met you could immediately recognize the heat pooling deep within you and it only spread when she pushed smoke into you mouth. You swallowed every bit of smoke that she offered and immediately felt it rush to your head. It was so dizzying, you had to hold onto her to steady yourself. Somehow when she pulled away you managed to inhale through your nose and then quickly out mouth.
“Good kitten,” She hummed “Is that what you wanted? Hmm?”
You looked up at her though half closed eyelids, the effect of blue cigarillo hitting you immediately. With your body unfamiliar with the effects of the blue leaf you were feeling so overwhelmed and couldn’t do much beside fall into her chest when she offered it to you. No longer caring if you caught the attention of other bar-goers because you’re too comfortable, you allowed yourself to relax.
“Mmhmm.” You sighed as her metal arm wrapped around you cementing you in you place for the night.
#arcane#sevika#sevika x reader#sevika x you#arcane sevika#silco#silco x reader#silco x you#sevika x y/n#silco x y/n#headcanon#arcane headcanon#league of legends#league of legends headcanons#arcane x reader#gender neutral imagine#gender neutral mc
428 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mark Of The Arcane || Chapter Three ||
↣ Summary; Centuries before, in the times of the ancient Kings, a prophecy was heard. When the three kingdoms of Valerem fall to ruins, their saviour would come in blinding starlight. Who is this saviour, you may ask? None other than Min Yoongi, who was too busy being late to work to realize he definitely wasn’t on earth anymore.
↣ Part: Chapter Three; Habituation
↣Word count: 2.5k
↣Warnings: Yoongi's going through the motions, other than that, we're all good :)
If you enjoy my content, please consider donating - Here
Chapter Archive | Masterlist
Notes: Welcome to chapter three! Thank you for being patient! I hope you enjoy! A little information on Yoongi's arcane and of course, dude's trying to wrap his head around it all, but it'll get better for him soon! Don't forget to share your thoughts, i'd love to know what you think!
“Hold on...” Yoongi puts a hand up, trying his best to ignore the ache in his side, the very real ache that feels like its sinking into his bones. He’s still trying to process everything, still trying to figure out if he’s losing his mind or not, and now this? You and Hoseok are barely paying him mind, talking in hushed tones again like he’s not sitting right there. So, Yoongi takes a moment to breathe, trying to calm down before he really starts crying.
Hoseok sighs and Yoongi tries to focus, you whisper something to him, sparing Yoongi one last glance before you’re through the door. Hoseok turns back to face him, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes on his lips and it only makes Yoongi nervous.
“Alright...I'm going to explain what’s happening.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “That Arcane mark you carry, is the mark of the Light Bearer. It’s only been seen once, and with it comes a prophecy. Firstly, you should know that wherever you were before isn’t where you were born...” Hoseok pauses, considering something with a thoughtful look, “There’s only a few mentions of this in writing, about other worlds existing alongside our own. I’m assuming the world where you had been before doesn’t have the same properties as this one, meaning it’s without magic.”
Yoongi has a passing thought then, that he’s a fish in a tiny pool of water. Not nearly enough to filter through and he struggles to breathe, and gasps like there’s not enough air. His chest feels tight, caging his lungs behind the solid walls of his flesh and bones; unable to expand.
One side of his mind is trying to separate what makes sense of the jumbled words that left Hoseok’s mouth, and the other is trying to separate him from all of it. It was a regular Tuesday for him, he got up late as he would usually, got yelled at, met a strange woman on the street and helped her across. He’s not certain what happens after death, but this must be his personal hell. Where everything is confusing and wired the wrong way, only he would torture himself so.
Some of what Hoseok said made a little sense – if he wants to believe any of it – he was raised in an orphanage, and like some of the kids cursed with unfortune, he was simply left on their doorstep. He doesn’t resent his parents, or, whoever decided it, circumstances are not always in favour...
“I...” Yoongi opens his mouth and closes it soon after, distress drawing his brows together. He doesn’t know where to start addressing any of that, and simply stares at Hoseok for a while. The sting at his side has lessened to a dull throbbing ache, easier to ignore now and Yoongi takes a breath.
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Hoseok says softly, calmly, and its enough to reel Yoongi in just a little. “But we’ll try to make this as easy as possible for you.”
“Will I be able to go back?” Yoongi twists the fabric of the soft sheets between his fingers.
Hoseok shifts on the chair he sits in, mouth forming a little triangle as he looks away, staring off into nothing for a moment. “I’m not sure. Whatever magic that was used to send you here is ancient. It’ll be difficult to find anyone who knows how to do the reversal.”
Yoongi deflates, the little hope he had in asking the question simply fizzles out. So, he’s stuck here for the time being. He wonders if anyone back home is worried about him – not that he has friends to be worried about his absence. He wonders if the old man thinks that he just straight up abandoned his job, or what would Mrs Li think when he isn’t there to keep her company on her afternoon walks.
Yoongi can only nod, gaze shifting to stare out the window. Hoseok had secured the curtains so that they hang at the sides of the window, and a cool breeze flows softly through it. The air lacks the scent of a city, no engine exhaust or the smells of too many different foods mixing together. It’s fresh and clean and Yoongi’s at least grateful for that.
“You should rest some more.” Hoseok says, bracing his palms against his knees before he pushes himself to stand. “It will take your body a while to get used to the new environment.”
When Yoongi wakes, it’s to a soft knocking on the door. He blinks blearily at it, brows furrowed. The light that filters through the window is now a soft orange, and Yoongi realises he’s slept through the day. He feels much better than he did earlier, though, sleepy still.
The knock sounds again and after a moment the door pushes open. It’s you again, and Yoongi stares at you from his spot. You’ve changed out of the clothes you were wearing earlier and you’re wearing something that looks like silk. The sleeves are long and flowing way past your hands and shimmers lightly with your movements, there’s a thin silver chain around your waist that clinks deftly against the navy-blue fabric of the dress. You aren’t wearing shoes, he notes, as you turn slightly to close the door behind you.
“Hello.” You greet, and Yoongi watch as you sort of glide your way over to his bedside. Your steps are graceful enough that he barely notices them, and he blinks at you, not too certain how he should address you or speak.
“Hello....” Yoongi mutters, turning his head to look across at the large floor to ceiling mirror that faces the bed he’s in. He looks like shit, if he’s being honest. He’s paler than he is usually, stress and fatigue had drawn circles under his eyes. You sit down on the chair Hoseok left, a gentle smile on your lips
He looks back at you and you’re smiling, though, it doesn’t bring him much comfort. You extend your hand to him, and in your hand is a book. It’s dark and small, with a sigil on the cover in white ink that looks strangely like the mark on his side.
“What’s this?” He asks, and after a moment, glances at you, “Your...Majesty...”
“Oh, Y/n is fine.” You say and then motion to the book, “This book is the first record of your arcane.”
Yoongi opens the book, it’s written more like a journal, dates at the top of the pages, words that doesn’t make sense to him right now neatly penned in dark ink.
“The prophecy was given by the first seer a long time ago. There are a few snippets of it in there, we don’t know where the actual record is.” You say, “’When the three kingdoms of Valerem fall to ruin, our saviour would come in blinding starlight.’”
Yoongi’s eyes find yours, brows creasing, “And I’m supposed to be this saviour?”
You stare at him in silence for a moment, there’s a pity in your eyes that Yoongi’s too used to, something he’s gotten too many times in his life. You nod slowly, then grimace, “I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot to take in. And I know it’s frightening.”
That’s an understatement, really. Yoongi had become comfortable knowing that he’d always be nothing more than he was, just Yoongi, breezing through his life as a man who didn’t have much of a childhood to speak of. Someone who was just another face in the crowd, a cog in the machine; nothing special. And he was okay with that. Life was…well, it was life. He’s had his ups and downs; he’s had hard times and times that made the difficulty of his life an afterthought. He was fine with that. This? This is something else entirely.
He doesn’t know what to say, so he stares at the book in his hands with a frown. This isn’t fair, is it? Yoongi’s always said he had a shit time as his day-to-day muddled together and became repetitive, working to only survive with the cards he was dealt. But it was his. Compared to this influx of information that he’s some sort of prophesied Messiah, his life was easy. He’d rather wake up in his bed right now, late for work and swearing than be sitting here trying to make sense of it all.
He could feel your eyes on him and he dare not meet your gaze. You sigh, there’s a rustling of your clothes as you stand and tuck the chair back into the corner it was in before. “Are you hungry? I can bring you something.”
He wasn’t really, Yoongi doesn’t think he could stomach anything if he tried, but he nods anyway. You’re kind, he thinks, and he doesn’t want to be rude.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
You return fifteen minutes after, with a silver tray, smiling softly as you hand it over. There’s a silver bowl of chicken – At least, he assumes – soup, and the smell reminds him of Mrs Li’s cooking. A smaller bowl of assorted diced fruit, a slice of buttered bread and a gold rimmed glass of water. “Hoseok said anything too heavy may upset your stomach…”
Yoongi’s stomach rumbles before he can say anything and he flushes, clearing his throat, “Thank you.”
You smile again, nodding, staring at him long enough that he feels a little awkward about it. You seem to catch yourself, looking away, “Right then, I’ll be off.”
He wonders briefly if your feet are cold as you make your way back to the door, “Oh!” You turn around, “When you’re done, just knock three times on the wall.”
“Okay…” Yoongi glances at the wall and when he looks back, you’re already going through the door and closing it. He sets the tray on his lap and picks up the spoon, stirring the contents of the bowl around, finding potatoes and carrots among the pieces of chicken. Tentatively, he takes a spoonful, and it’s – quite frankly – the best thing he’s had. He didn’t realise how hungry he was until the soup was gone and he was slowing down as to not choke on the bread.
He glances at the book, resting on the table against the wall, he takes and sets the tray aside and wipes his hand against the material of his sweater before reaching for it. Opening the book, he finds the first page.
Year 871
We had not known that the shadow arcane would sire chaos, there was no way to know. So many lives were lost in the attempt to stop it, and the kingdoms are divided. We’re at a loss, it wouldn’t be long before we’re all gone. We must do something, anything to stop it—
The words trail off into muddled ink and Yoongi can’t tell what it says, the other page dates the same year, but speaks of something different. He picks through the bowl of fruit and picks up and apple slice.
Year 871
The Arcane of Light, created for the purpose of subduing the Arcane of Shadow. The strength of the Arcane is immeasurable, though, it’s volatile. We assumed that Zephyr is just unable to control such power, but he’s the only one who can wield it. We can only trust him. If he can stop this, we can end it, and perhaps, stop this from reoccurring. Arcanes has broken down into subfields, we’ve found, and as reveling as that information may be, we can only hope to wipe the Arcane of Shadow completely so that it may never bestow itself upon another.
Yoongi reaches into the bowl for more fruit only for his fingers to hit the bottom. He tears his eyes from the page, pouting at the empty bowl. He stares at the words on the page for a quiet moment before shaking his head and setting it aside once more. He looks at the wall and wonders what would happen if he knocked it, would the tray disappear? He knocks three times like you told him to and waited, its completely quiet for a moment and then the grating sound of stone against stone shatters the silence. Yoongi startles and whips his head to his left to find a part of the wall pulling in on itself, a man younger than him steps out of the darkness there, dressed in white and gold.
He bows at the waist and smiles when he straightens, “Good evening, my Lord. I trust your meal was satisfactory?”
“Uh…” Yoongi stumbles for his words, “Yes…”
The man walks over, “Wonderful! I’m Wooyoung, Head Chef.” He picks up the tray, “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to send for me.” He motions at the wall Yoongi knocked on before he was leaving back through the wall and Yoongi watches as it drags closed, shifting back into place as though it never moved.
There’s a knock on the door and Yoongi thinks he can’t catch a break as it opens, thankfully, it’s someone he’s seen before. Seokjin stands in the doorway with narrowed eyes, looking like he’d rather be doing a million other things. He comes into the room and shuts the door behind him. He’s holding a bundle of something in one of his hands and a pair of boots in the other. Yoongi can only make out navy blue.
Seokjin says nothing as he walks over, setting the folded bundle on the table and the boots on the floor. “You can’t walk around wearing…that.” He waves a hand at Yoongi’s sweater and jeans with a frown.
Yoongi looks down at his sweater and then at the bundle Seokjin brought with him, “Ah…right.”
“I’ll wait outside the door, let me know if you need help with the clasp.” Seokjin leaves him to change, and Yoongi moves over to the table.
The navy-blue bundle unfolds into a cloak like the one Seokjin and the other guards wear, there’s a long-sleeved white shirt with gold trimmings and black pants that are soft to the touch. Yoongi changes in silence, folding his clothes neatly, the only link to the place he came from, and sets them aside. He finds cotton socks stuffed into the boots and he pulls them on before putting his feet into the boots. The cloak is a little heavy in his hand as he secures it on his shoulders and clasp it at his throat. He wanders over to the mirror mounted on the wall, looking and feeling little uncomfortable.
He takes a breath, moving towards the door he pulls it open. The hallway looks completely different than it was when he first ventured out into it. The wall across from his room had a window, where Seokjin sits on the sill, talking to a bird.
“I already fed you.” He says and the crow squawks indignantly, its head leaning down to nip at his hand, “Ow! You little—”
Yoongi clears his throat and Seokjin looks up, he gets down from the windowsill, letting the crown hop off onto it, there’s a soft clink of something metal, two silver bands on the crow’s leg catching the light of the setting sun. Seokjin shoos the bird with a hand, “Go on.”
The bird ruffles it’s feathers, cawing loudly in what Yoongi could only decipher as offence at Seokjin’s shooing before it flies off. Seokjin turns to him, giving him a once over and a silent nod, “Come, Hoseok’s waiting.”
[Bold: can't tag]
Permatag: @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @astormunchar @eren-fall @taestefully-in-luv @main-bangtansmauyeondan @xpeachesncream @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond
Series Tag: @purest-expressionofgrief @i-dont-give-a-fok @xyahrinx @3sriracha @loveyoongles @studiosakuras @amon-rei @mssukeyna @freyawreya
#persphonesorchid#Fic: Mark of the Arcane#yoongi x reader#bts#bts x reader#bts fanfiction#min yoongi x reader#fantasy au#fantasy bts x reader#min yoongi#bts yoongi#bts yoongi x reader#suga#suga x reader#bts angst#bts fantasy#kim seokjin#jung hoseok
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Today
Rating G, pure fluff, post revival.
Thanks to @txf-fic-chicks-blog for asking me to join this fun nostalgia trip. I had fun writing my loves again!
She studies the box. It’s small, perfectly square, wrapped in thick white glossy paper with a cream bow decorating the top. Intriguing. Terrifying. It doesn’t take an FBI agent to deduce jewellery of some kind. Earrings? A ring? But what for? She checks her cell-phone. It’s the 28th of March. Her memory is sharp but the date means nothing. Not their first case. Not their first date. Not their first kiss. Not their marriage. Not their separation. Not William’s birthday. Not Emily’s. Not Skinner’s. A death? Emily. Missy. Maggie. The Gunmen? Too many to linger. And still her mind is blank.
“Do you give in, Scully?”
He’s smirking in his chair. Silvery streaks in his hair and scruff temporarily draw her gaze from the box in her hand to remind her of their age, of the decades they’ve spent together, apart, working, protecting, mourning, laughing, fighting, debating. And loving each other. Still. Always.
“Tell me again why you’re giving me this, Mulder.” She tries for playful but it sounds querulous. Like when a case has got to the point where he’s about to tell her it’s aliens and she points out that the science doesn’t support his theory and he grins and shrugs and she tries to ignore the worrisome niggle in her gut and hopes something rational turns up.
“Just because,” he says, leaning forward so she can smell his cologne and see the same old testing sparkles in his eyes. “Open it.”
“But I haven’t got anything for you to celebrate…” she flaps her hand in the air, “whatever it is we’re celebrating.”
“I never give to receive, Scully. Surely you know that by now.” The smile oozes across his lush mouth and she squirms on her seat. When will this damn man loose the ability to leave her feeling like a blob of cherry Goop-O ABC.
She turns it this way and that. Shakes it. Sniffs it. If she whips out her scalpel and starts a dissection, he’ll be even more insufferable. Instead, she tugs the end of the ribbon, picks away the sticky tape on the sides, removes the wrapping to reveal a white cardboard box with a single gold letter on the top. S.
“For Scully?” she asks, and her voice is lower than she wants. She can’t believe she’s still falling for his games. That she still craves this to-and-fro playfulness.
“If you like,” he shrugs and it irritates her that her mind is full of cotton wool instead of theories or retorts. How is he still surprising her when she knows him by heart and he knows her inside out?
She loosens the lid. He leans closer. She licks her lips. The tension is thick like one of those early cases in Weirdsville, Virginia when rain would pummel the windows of the motel room and he would roll up his shirt sleeves as she typed notes on the clunky laptop. His brain would spark up like lightning and her adrenaline could power small towns. He’d talk feverishly and she’d temper his wild ideas. Nights lasted minutes. Life was a delirious ride of stellar highs and swampy lows, an intellectual smorgasbord of argument and counter debate, of fact and theory, of impossible, improbable details she could neither deny nor accept. How she missed those days. How she didn’t.
“What is it?” she asks before she prises the lid free.
“You tell me,” he responds and looks right into her, through to her heart, her soul, her essence.
Inside, there’s a fold of white velvet. In that soft fabric, there’s a tiny piece of paper. She removes it, aware of his gaze on her. Her cheeks heat. Her breathing quickens. Just like those nights when they’d unlock the key, uncover the conspiracy, decipher the code, see the arcane truth among the mundane lies. She unfolds it. On it, in Mulder’s precise penmanship, is a date. Today’s date. 032823.
“What does it mean?” she asks, a little flustered now. What has she missed?
His face cracks into the widest of smiles that sets her body to trembling. He shakes his head slightly, softening his grin into more of a gentle appraisement of her, one she’s seen when she’s sick or distressed or in pain. It comforts and reassures and grounds her. She asks again. “What does it mean? I just can’t think…I’m sorry, Mulder.”
“It means,” he says, placing a finger under her chin and moving in for a chaste kiss. “It means absolutely nothing. It’s today’s date. And today we are celebrating…today. Us. Being here. The now. The present. Whatever you want to call it. It’s our anniversary of nothing and I wanted to spend it with you.”
Her forehead rests against his and she chuffs out a quiet hmmph. She hasn’t forgotten anything important. Everything important is right here, right now. No good looking back. No use looking forward.
“Thank you, Mulder,” she whispers.
“Thank you, Scully,” he says, “for yesterday, for tomorrow, but especially for today.”
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
Domestic
Because @grumpyoutlaw has zero shame and while it's not totally explicit... yet, you're killing me here my friend. You're going to make me end up writing NSFW for the first time in 8 years.
Pairing: Viktor x Reader
Word count: 474
Sighing happily, you scrub at your skin with your towel, stretching the muscles in your back slowly as you lean over to wrap up your hair. Steam is still clouding the mirrors so you just wrap another towel around you before padding out into the room.
As if sensing your presence, Aryn starts babbling at you loudly from the living room, eyes locked on you excitedly, lifting herself to her knees, rocking back and forth before jutting her arm and leg out simultaneously, attempting to crawl towards you. Cooing down at her, you giggle, scooping her up, tickling her stomach. Squealing in laughter, she kicks a bit, bright eyes trained on you as you make your way towards the kitchen.
“Lunch is almost done,” VIktor calls to you gently, his back to you. Humming an affirmative, you slide her into her high chair, booping her nose, earning a brilliant grin as she slaps her hands down onto the tray in front of her. Laughing softly, you sneak up behind Viktor, watching him move about the kitchen. He hasn't noticed your presence quite yet, shifting around quietly, gracefully- no matter what he grumbled about being less than graceful with his cane.
Grinning to yourself, you tip toe up behind him, lifting yourself up as high as you can go, hand settling on the counter in front of him, catching his attention enough to make him freeze.
“Dov-?” shushing him, you press your lips to the back of his neck slowly, tongue flicking out to trail where you've kissed before nipping the skin gently. His breath sputters to a stop, hands clenching the sides of the counter as his head falls back towards you at your ministrations- eyes lidded, mouth slack.
“Domestic life suits you, Vik,” you hum against his skin, nosing at his pulse point, nipping at the junction of his neck, earning a breathy agreement, honey eyes zoning in on you.
“Aryn,” he grumbles a bit, you smile.
“Well, perhaps you'll get her to sleep for her nap here pretty quickly, hm?” spinning around to face you, he looks you up and down, pupils blown.
“That's my towel,” it's meant to be reproachful, but comes out breathy, fingers curling around his cane a little tighter. Grinning, you lean forward to press a kiss to the mole right above his lip, tongue darting out to the corner of his lips, humming when he chases your lips, eyes lidded.
“You'll have to take it back,” you assure him, stepping back, watching as his body automatically shifts to follow you until Aryn squeals at her place at the table, demanding her food.
“Tik Tok,” you sing, sliding back towards the room, clicking your tongue. Groaning, he moves towards his little girl, eyeing her.
“Come now, little one,” he huffs. “Let's eat and go to sleep… for papa.”
----
Arcane taglist:
@grumpyoutlaw @thehistoriangirl @rainbowpitofdoom @wizarrdofooze @uniquedeerwitch @ace-of-zaun @aerynwrites @queenxxxsupreme @beeblybub @ears-queers-gears-n-fears
If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or ask or something.
#poor sweet viktor#arcane viktor#arcane viktor x reader#viktor arcane#viktor#viktor arcane x reader#viktor league of legends#viktor the machine herald#viktor x reader#viktor x you#the machine herald#the machine herald x reader#papa!vik#papa!viktor#daddy!viktor#he is a great dad#fight me#he is also very much in love with mama
293 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
layalu
total trash mammal
kimmy-toons
Keep On Drawing!
shinnchi
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
appareldeveloper
Appareldeveloper
michel66toffa
Sans titre