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pricesgirl · 5 months ago

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Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

Jinx

“What an absolutely fucking tragic story.”

“Boy meets girl,” I say, flipping the book open and letting it smack the table with a loud thwack.

“They swap a couple of lines, maybe a little eye-fucking across the room, and then bam—marriage, murder, and melodrama. Honestly, Romeo and Juliet is just horny teenagers making bad decisions with a death toll. Kinda iconic, but also… pathetic.”

Y/N’s trying so hard not to laugh, but that little twitch at the corner of her mouth gives her away.

She glances down at her notebook like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world, but I know better.

I always know better.

“Come on, admit it,” I press, leaning closer.

“This whole thing is just Shakespeare projecting his wet dreams onto paper. I mean, would you throw yourself into a coffin for someone you just met?”

Y/N looks up, her face a little red, and gives me this look—half-exasperated, half-amused. “It’s supposed to be romantic,” she says, her tone just a little too patient.

“Oh, sure,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Nothing screams romance like poison and stab wounds. That’s hot. Super sexy.” I lean back in my chair, grinning.

“Although, I guess dying for someone is one hell of a flex. Bet Juliet was into some kinky shit.”

“Jinx!” she hisses, her eyes wide as she glances around the library, like the ghost of Shakespeare himself might pop out of the shelves and strike me down.

“What?” I ask, throwing my hands up.

“You think Romeo was all sweet talk and poetry? Nah, that guy was definitely whispering filthy shit to her under the balcony. Bet he was like, Juliet, you light up my world—now get on your-”

Y/N lets out this strangled noise, somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and covers her face with her hands. “You’re impossible,” she mutters.

But I can see her shoulders shaking.

“Impossible, but not wrong,” I say, leaning forward with a smirk.

“You know I’m right. Horny teens and bad decisions—they go hand in hand. Speaking of…” I waggle my eyebrows at her.

“You ever had someone wax poetic about you? Or, I don’t know, climb a fire escape to declare their undying love?”

“No,” she says firmly, her voice muffled behind her hands.

“Shame,” I say, tapping my chin. “You’re missing out. Although, honestly? If someone pulled that shit with me, I’d probably just drag them inside and—”

“Jinx!” she whisper-yells, her voice high-pitched and scandalized.

Her face is so red now I’m almost worried she’s going to combust.

Almost.

I grin, sitting back in my chair and crossing my arms. “What? I’m just saying. Life’s short. Might as well enjoy it. Or are you more of a ‘tragic, yearning stares from a distance’ type?”

She gives me a look.

The kind of look that says I’m pushing my luck.

But I catch the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.

It’s faint.

But it’s there, and it’s enough to keep me going.

“Can we please focus?” she says, her voice trembling with suppressed laughter.

“Sure,” I say, picking up the book again and thumbing through the pages. “But I’m warning you now, I’m not letting Romeo off the hook for being the patron saint of bad decisions.”

Y/N leans back in her chair, pressing her lips together like she’s trying desperately not to laugh.

Her cheeks are pink, and there’s this quiet glow to her that tugs at something in my chest.

I ignore it.

“So,” I say, flipping the book open again with an exaggerated flourish.

“Are we supposed to write some revolutionary take on this mess, or is it just vibes and clichés? You’re the genius here, enlighten me.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s that little curve to her lips, the one that makes her whole face soften. “Themes,”

“We’re supposed to analyze the themes, connect them to modern relationships, and explain why the story is still relevant.”

“Relevant?” I snort, leaning back. “Oh, sure. Because every teenager I know is out here marrying strangers after one dance and dying for them two days later. So relatable.”

“You’re impossible,” she says, shaking her head, but her voice is warm, light, teasing.

“Thank you,” I say, grinning.

She picks up her pen again, her focus shifting back to the notebook in front of her.

Naturally, I lean over, because how could I not snoop, but she slams it shut before I can even get a glimpse.

“Oh, come on,” I groan, clutching my chest like she’s mortally wounded me. “What’s the big secret? Writing a love letter? A sonnet? A tragic ode to unrequited love?”

“It’s not a secret,” she says firmly, though the way her fingers tighten around the notebook tells a different story. “It’s just not finished.”

“Uh-huh.” I narrow my eyes at her, my grin sharp and unrelenting.

“You’re not secretly crushing on Romeo, are you? Or maybe…”

My voice drops, dripping with mock drama. “Maybe you’ve got your own Romeo? Someone you’re tragically pining for?”

Her cheeks turn a brilliant shade of crimson, and her eyes dart everywhere except at me.

“Oh my God,” I say, sitting up like I’ve just cracked the biggest mystery of the century. “You do! Who is it? Come on, spill. I need to know everything.”

“There’s no one!” she protests, but her voice is high-pitched, and her fingers fidget with the corner of her notebook.

“Liar,” I say, my grin turning downright devious.

I tap my chin like I’m deep in thought.

“Is it someone in our class? That broody guy who always acts like he’s too cool to care? Or…” I pause, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe it’s a girl?”

Her pen freezes mid-air.

For a second, she looks at me like I’ve uncovered her deepest, darkest secret.

Bingo.

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Y/N

I can feel my heart picking up its pace, a strange fluttering in my chest that has nothing to do with the subject matter at hand. Jinx’s words echo in my mind, her teasing lingering far longer than I’d like to admit. The way she looked at me, the mischievous grin on her face—it’s enough to make me squirm, but I won’t let her see that.

“No one,” I reply firmly, hoping the edge in my voice sounds more convincing than it feels. “I’m not—there’s just no one.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a soft chuckle. “Alright, if you say so.”

I focus on my notebook, flipping a page with deliberate care. The task at hand should be enough to keep me grounded, and yet the thought of her knowing something I’ve never fully acknowledged myself unsettles me. It feels as though she’s pierced a part of me I’m still figuring out, and that makes me more uncomfortable than I’m willing to admit.

Still, I refuse to let that show. Instead, I straighten up, refocusing on our assignment. “Regardless, Romeo and Juliet is still a farcical tragedy,” I begin, keeping my tone calm and collected, but there’s a subtle bite to it. “The impulsiveness, the poor decisions—it’s a pattern in a lot of Shakespeare’s works. It speaks to the nature of youth, to desire, rather than rational thought.”

Jinx snorts, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, sure, I’m sure that’s exactly what Shakespeare was going for. Desire, right? More like he was just a horny old man trying to sell sex on the page. No wonder those two idiots killed themselves over each other.”

I nod, careful to keep my composure. “Yes. Desire, more than love. They acted on passion rather than considering the consequences. Shakespeare’s portrayal of love is often hyperbolic, exaggerated to the point where it’s almost abs-"

I get cut off by another snicker from her followed by, "You damn nerd."

I pause mid-sentence, blinking at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she says, tilting her head, her grin widening. “You’re such a nerd, Y/N. Who even says ‘hyperbolic’ in casual conversation? It’s like you’re auditioning for a Shakespeare reboot.”

I huff, sitting up straighter. “It’s called having a vocabulary,” I reply, my tone clipped but teasing. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

She gasps dramatically, clutching her chest like I’ve struck her through with a dagger. “Wow. Coming at me with the intellectual smackdown, huh? Careful, or I’ll start quoting Shakespeare back at you.”

“Please don’t,” I say quickly, holding up a hand like I’m warding off some impending disaster.

Jinx grins, leaning forward now, her elbows on the table. “Oh, but wouldn’t you love that? Imagine me up on a balcony, all, But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” She pauses, fluttering her eyelashes for effect. “You’d swoon. Admit it.”

“I’d laugh,” I correct, refusing to give her the satisfaction. “And then I’d shut the window.”

She cackles, the sound sharp and chaotic, and it’s impossible not to smile. “Cold, Y/N. Ice cold. No wonder you don’t have a Romeo climbing fire escapes for you.”

I roll my eyes, flipping a page in the book to feign disinterest. “Not everyone needs a grand romantic gesture, Jinx. Some of us prefer substance over theatrics."

Jinx leans back in her chair, propping her boots up on the edge of the table like she owns the place. Her smirk is sharp, eyes glittering with mischief.

“C'mon, Y/N,” she drawls. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t want someone to show up, grand gesture and all, declaring undying devotion? Maybe a little dramatic fainting thrown in for good measure?”

I snort. “No. Definitely not. I’d find it mortifying.”

She tilts her head, feigning innocence. “What about some spicy poetry? Like, Oh, Y/N, your... uh, unparalleled intelligence leaves me trembling.” Her voice dips into a breathy almost smutty tone, and I roll my eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” I mutter, flipping through my notes.

“And you’re boring,” she fires back without missing a beat. “Where’s the fun, huh? You don’t think Juliet was secretly hoping Romeo would skip the iambic pentameter and just pin her to a wall?”

I look up, feeling my cheeks heat. “Jinx.”

“What?” she says, her grin downright wicked now. “I’m just saying. The whole woe is me, tragic romance thing might’ve been for show. Behind closed doors, she was probably like, Enough about the stars, Romeo, let’s talk about your sword.”

And I falter, my laughter bubbling up uncontrollably before bursting out so loud that it shatters the quiet of the library. The sound is obnoxious, and I can’t stop it, even though I know I should. Mrs. Clark, the poor librarian, scurries over to us, her face draining of color when she realizes it’s me—me—who caused the disturbance. Her eyes widen in horror, and I shrink back in my seat, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

“Y/N,” Mrs. Clark says sharply, her voice quivering with disapproval, “This is a library. I expect more from you.”

I swallow, my throat tight, and I can barely meet her gaze. The silence that follows is suffocating, broken only by the scratch of Mrs. Clark’s pen as she writes us both a detention slip. “After school,” she mutters, her voice tight. She hands us the slips, one by one, and I want to crawl under the table, but I can't. Not with everyone staring.

I take the slip, my hands trembling, my face burning with the weight of the embarrassment. Jinx’s laughter, the one that started all this, has quieted, but there's still a mischievous glint in her eyes. At first, it seems like she's enjoying my discomfort, and I can't help but wish she’d be quiet for just a moment, let me process this in peace.

But then, her smirk fades. She glances at me, her expression softening as she catches the way my shoulders slump, the way I'm trembling. I try to blink back the tears threatening to spill, but they’re already in my eyes. It’s stupid, it’s just a detention, but the humiliation is unbearable.

Jinx doesn’t say anything at first, but I can feel the weight of her gaze on me as I struggle to hold back the tears. She slides out of her chair, slowly stepping closer, crouching down beside me with a quiet seriousness I’ve rarely seen from her. Her voice, when it comes, is low, almost soothing.

“Hey,” she says, her words gentle, like she’s trying to reach through the storm inside me. “It’s not that bad, okay? Detention's just... it's nothing. It’s temporary.”

I don’t respond, but I can feel the tears starting to burn in my eyes, and I just can't stop them. I keep my gaze fixed on the floor, trying to hide how I’m trembling.

Jinx doesn’t back away, though. Instead, she reaches out, her hand soft as it rests on my shoulder, the touch surprisingly warm and comforting. “Come on toots, let’s go,” she says, her voice so different from the usual teasing tone, like she’s saying it for me, not for her. “I’ll take you somewhere... just let’s get out of here, okay?”

I nod, my throat tight, and let her guide me out of the library. The hallways feel colder now, like everything around me is a reminder of how utterly humiliated I feel. But Jinx stays close, walking beside me, her presence steady and unwavering, like she’s determined not to let me fall apart alone.

She leads me into the girls’ bathroom, the door shutting quietly behind us. It’s quiet, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead, and for a moment, everything feels still. Jinx leans against the counter, watching me with a softness in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets me breathe, lets the silence settle between us.

I break.

The tears come without warning, and I retreat to the corner, curling into myself, trying to make myself smaller. I press my hands to my face, desperate to hide the rawness of what I’m feeling. The sobs are quiet at first, but they soon escape in harsh, ragged breaths. The shame, the embarrassment—it’s overwhelming, suffocating. I feel completely exposed, fragile, and utterly out of control.

I don’t want her to see me like this. I don’t want anyone to. But she doesn’t leave.

There’s a quiet moment, just the sound of my breathing, of me trying to stifle the sobs. And then Jinx moves toward me, her steps slow, careful. She crouches down next to me, not trying to force anything, not speaking. She just watches me for a moment, her eyes filled with something tender, and then her hand reaches out. Her fingers brush through my hair, slow and soothing, the soft strokes almost enough to make me forget everything else.

"Shhh," she murmurs, her voice quiet, barely above a whisper. "It’s okay."

I can’t stop the tears. I don’t even try. But the sound of her voice, the feel of her fingers weaving through my hair, so gentle, so careful—it’s grounding. She doesn’t rush me, doesn’t tell me to stop crying. She just stays there, her touch like a balm for the rawness inside me.

After a long moment, she shifts again, her hand moving to wipe away the tears that have soaked my cheeks. Her fingers are gentle, each movement deliberate, as if she’s treating me like something fragile but important. Her touch is steady, patient, and it’s like she’s saying, without words, that I don’t have to hide. That I’m allowed to feel, to break.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

"C'mon, toots—it’s only an hour, alright? No big deal." I glance at Y/N, tucked behind me like a little puppy, her hand in mine.

It’s like she’s trying to disappear into the floor, and I don’t... I don’t know what to do with that.

I peek into the detention room, Mr. Wheeler’s already there, half asleep

Of course he is.

His glasses are dangling off his nose, like he forgot they even exist.

He’s ancient—like, fossil-level ancient—but whatever.

Doesn’t matter.

I yank the door open.

And there he is. Boy savior himself, sitting in the corner, all quiet and broody.

I waggle my free hand at him. Big, dumb wave. Like, hi, notice me!

Ekko’s head pops up.

His face twists into full-on confusion. Like, what the actual hell?

His eyes dart to Y/N behind me, all tucked in and quiet, and I can practically hear the gears in his head grinding.

I can see it.

The way his gaze softens, just a little, but then hardens again.

Like he’s trying to figure out how to act, what to say, how to breathe, maybe.

And I get it. I do.

Because once, a long time ago, it was the three of us.

Ekko. Y/N. Me.

Best friends.

And now?

Now we’re... this. Whatever this is. Unspoken crap hanging in the air like a bad smell.

After what happened—Vander’s death, Vi’s wrongful juvie sentence, and Silco taking me in...

Shit hit the fan.

Everything snapped.

The three of us? We used to be inseparable.

Me, Boy Savior, and Y/N. We were the kind of trio that people envied—always laughing, always plotting, always looking out for each other.

But after everything fell apart?

That trio was gone. Just... gone.

Ekko and I? We managed to reconcile. Somehow. It wasn’t easy, but we put the pieces back together.

Mostly.

But Y/N and him?

Never.

Whatever they had? Whatever we all had? It just crumbled. And they never found their way back to each other.

The air feels heavy. Like it’s pressing down on us.

Y/N’s hand squeezes mine. Tight. Too tight. Like she thinks if she lets go, she’ll just... vanish.

I glance back at her. Pale. Shaking. Her eyes darting everywhere except him.

Ekko.

The Boy Savior.

He’s staring at her like she’s a ghost. Or maybe a grenade. His jaw’s tight, hands fidgeting like he doesn’t know where to put them.

Say something.

Do something.

But he just sits there. Quiet. Staring.

It’s unbearable.

“Gonna sprain something, Boy Savior,” I snap, too loud, too sharp. “All that thinking’s dangerous, y’know.”

His head snaps up. Eyes narrow. “Jinx.”

That tone. Even. Calm. Like he’s the adult in the room.

Which he's not cause fucking Mr Wheeler's old ass is at the desk asleep now.

“What?” I throw my free hand up, grinning like a lunatic. “Just saying. You look like you’re trying to solve the meaning of life or some shit.”

Still nothing.

He glances at Y/N again.

And she flinches.

I can’t. I can’t with this.

“Seriously? We’re doing this? Now?” My voice comes out sharper than I mean. “It’s detention. Not a goddamn soap opera.”

“Jinx, stop.”

Her voice.

Soft. Cracked. Barely there.

I freeze. Look at her. She’s hiding behind me, eyes on the floor, her face red like she’s about to cry again.

My chest tightens.

Ekko’s watching us, his expression... weird. Guilty? Concerned? I can’t tell.

“Whatever,” I mutter, pulling Y/N further into the room. “Let’s just sit.”

I drag her to the far corner, away from him. Away from everything.

We sit. She tries to pull her hand away, but I don’t let go. Nope. Not happening.

“Uh-uh, toots,” I whisper. “You’re stuck with me.”

She doesn’t argue. Just wipes her face with her sleeve, all quiet and miserable.

Across the room, I can feel him watching.

Always watching.

And I hate it.

I hate all of this.

I hear a grunt and then...

"The hell is she in here for?"

Ekko’s voice slices through the tension like a blade.

Y/N stiffens beside me, her hand still in mine, like she’s trying to hide behind me.

“Y/N’s here because—” I start, but I don’t know how to finish that.

The fuck should I say?

“Because I laughed too loud,” Y/N mumbles, barely loud enough to hear.

Ekko blinks.

“You?” he says, voice full of disbelief.

“Apparently.” Y/N pulls her hand away from mine tucking them into her sleeves like she’s trying to hide.

I snort, rolling my eyes. “It’s ‘cause Mrs. Clark is a total cunt.”

Ekko’s eyes narrow.

His face hardens a little—like he’s getting pissed off, not at us, but at the absurdity of it. “She really gave you detention for that?” His voice drops, angry now. “For laughing? That’s... that’s fucking ridiculous.”

I nod, crossing my arms. “Told ya. Stupid.”

Y/N looks down, trying to disappear into the floor like she can avoid everything.

So, of course, I’m not having that.

I grab her hand. “C’mon, Y/N. Detention? Are you seriously gonna sit here like some sad sack when we could be out there making actual trouble?”

She gives me the side-eye, clearly hesitant. “I’m not sure—”

“Stop thinking, and just do,” I snap, tugging her toward the window. "I’m done with this place, and you should be too."

She hesitates again, her face a mix of nervousness and confusion. I roll my eyes. “Detention’s for losers, Y/N. And you’re not a loser. You’re a rebel just waiting to burst out.”

Ekko’s already halfway through the window, a grin plastered on his face like he’s got nothing better to do than burn this place to the ground. “C’mon, this is way better than sitting in that crap hole. You don’t want to miss it.”

I lean out the window, breathing in the night air like it’s the first breath of freedom I’ve had in ages. “You’re seriously gonna let this lame-ass detention keep you locked up? Or are you gonna live a little?”

She’s still stiff, unsure, but there’s a flicker in her eyes.

She’s fighting it.

I see it. She’s craving a reason to break the rules, but she’s scared.

I pull her closer, voice low but firm. “Look, it’s just one little jump, Y/N. What’s the worst that can happen? Get caught and get another detention? Big deal. You can always blame me. I’ve got it covered.”

Finally, after what feels like forever, she steps up.

Slowly at first, but then quicker.

She's in.

I laugh, watching her climb out. “That’s my girl,” I mutter, watching her face. There’s a spark in her now, and I can feel it.

She’s gonna love this.

We all slide out the window, landing in the cool night air.

Ekko shoots me a look, like we're all in on some big joke. “Now this is how you do it,” he says, grinning ear-to-ear.

Y/N looks at me, her face still a little stunned, but now she’s definitely feeling it. “I can’t believe we just did that,” she says, breathless.

“You bet your ass we did,” I say, with a grin that could cut glass.

“Best decision of your life. Welcome to the rebellion, toots.”

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: the friendship has begun to progress slightly, more where that came from ;)

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boredpotate · 6 months ago

Text

Happier Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Arcane or any other kind of media mentioned or linked.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but has unforeseen consequences. (If you want to know the full idea I had then it's in the first chapter)

Note: Didn't mention in the first chapter, but I'm going to assume Vi was 11 and Powder was 6 in the opening scene since I don't think it has been confirmed.

(Edit: Forgot to add something. I'm considering letting Reader have a romance with Timebomb, but IDK. Not fully decided yet.)

Vander Pov

Five years.

Five years since two little girls lost their parents on that bridge and since I became a father of two. Didn't think I would take in two more kids from the streets after them, but then again I never thought I would be a father. The two new additions were boys, all together they became a loyal little crew of four Undercity kids. Speaking of.

"You sure this this one's gonna work Pow Pow? The last one almost gave me a concussion.", Vi asks as Powder works on another one of her latest inventions. Supposed to be some kind of smoke bomb.

Powder puffs her cheeks a little with a pout.

"I said I was sorry and I told you it was a test. I didn't mean for it to have a delay on it. The switch went off later than I planned.", she says grumpily, but a hint of guilt in there.

"Of course not. That's just because you're a jinx.", Mylo says teasingly which makes Vi sock him in the arm. Making Claggor chuckle a little. Deserved, honestly.

"It's fine. I just don't want you blowing yourself up."

I smile as I set down drinks for them, not alcohol of course, before turning to Powder.

"Just make sure you don't run any tests in here. Unless you all want to spend the day cleaning paint off bar.", I say before taking a good look at my troop of trouble makers.

Claggor, big and strong, but not dumb. Smarter and wiser than others actually. A kind soul..... unless you're looking for a fight. Kid can take hits and hit you back harder.

Mylo, not the biggest nor the baddest, but surprisingly cunning if you didn't know him before hand. Always putting up a cocky facade, but he does care. Though he has a problem with making his face enticing to punch.

Powder, youngest of them all has a knack for mechanics and inventing. A tinkerer through and through, like Benzo's boy, Ekko. So much potential in a little bundle of joy. She'll go far in life. As long as she doesn't blow herself up first.

Vi, the oldest, the protector and the leader of the four. Always wanting to put herself in front of all the danger for her family. Take on all the burden, like the stubborn girl she is. Especially for her sister. Most likely to kick a door down before checking if it's unlocked.

Together we were a family. Honestly this would have been enough for me, but to think I'd get my brother back too.

"I'm sure it will go well this time. I took a look at the mechanism, she only needs to make a few adjustments.", Silco says, sitting next to Powder while working on his notes and occasionally glancing at Powder's work.

Silco, my brother in every way but blood. I didn't think I'd ever be able to rekindle our bond from before. He read my letter. Apparently he stayed in hiding for a few years to think about all that happened and himself. I still remember when he came back, around the time I took in Mylo and Claggor, the feeling I had felt when he just came walking in one day like it was any other regular day.

We talked about our mistakes and regrets. We reminisced on the old days when we were young and dumb, and when Felecia was still alive. It took time, still is, but right now? We're in a good place now. Forgave each other and moving forward to help Zuan. He and Powder seem to get along well, which is good. Silco was always the smarts between the two of us; always had his nose in his notes or a book.

I couldn't help but smile when looking at the scene. The bar felt more alive nowadays, the kids I took in talking and bickering but safe, and the man who is like a brother to me is back. All in The Last Drop where it's safe. All we need is Benzo and his boy, Ekko, here and we'll have the whole party together.

Everything i-

Dad?

Damn. That damn voice again. Been bugging me ever since the bridge. Like a memory, but from talks I've never had with someone before.

SoOoo, QUiCk qUestIOn. wHo get's THE bAr wHeN YoU reTiRe? hM?

Who is that? I can barely make it out to be a kid's, but I never heard any kid like that. Yet, it feels like I'm supposed to know. It brings out that same feeling in my chest that I have for my kids.

"Vander?"

I look back up to Silco, who is looking at me with concern in his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Is everything alright? You froze there for a second."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm fine, nothings wrong. Just.... something bugging my head for awhile."

He looks at me with some worry, but drops it after Powder grabs his attention. Probably something about her tinkering.

I go to clean a few glasses as I ponder on the voice again.

'Who is that?'

Reader Pov

"Get back here you little shit!"

I hear and ignore the shouts as I keep running. I managed to eavesdrop on a deal. Heard them talk about there drop off point for payment. The people came earlier than I expected for the money and I got caught in the act. Now I'm running through the streets with five people on my trail. Not my fault everyone ignores kids when discussing stuff.

I weave through alley ways and crowds in the streets with a mask and hood. After years of growing up in it, it's only natural that it's pretty easy to navigate. Especially as a kid; there's lots of little crevices and old pipe lines to slip into. Though these people are pretty persistent, but I can't really blame them. Seems like whatever job they did paid a lot based on the weight of the bag, though I am a kid so I could be wrong.

I take a quick look back to see that the crowd built me a good bit of distance before quickly ducking into another alley. I take many turns before getting onto another crowded street and build some distance before I start blending into the crowd. I see one of them pop out from the alley, but it's already too late. I'm good as gone now.

I steady my breathing as I begin to backtrack from where I ran from. They'll probably stay in this area and wait for me or some kid with a bag to come out, meanwhile my home is on the nowhere near here.

Home.

'I miss home.'

I thought it would be easier than this honestly. Not the living part, that's easy. Zuan isn't some drug filled city like before where everyone is trying to be on top. This like a playground compared to what it turned into. People still have a sense of community and gangs aren't taking over, or at least not completely.

Zuan went from being a dog town to a pit full of chickens and snakes. No more dogs ready to bark and bite for their own, ready to gather together and fight back when backed too far into a corner by the rich. Just a bunch of snakes chasing to be on top and taking out anyone who get's in their way. A bunch of snakes and fakes being led on by even bigger fakes and snakes; couldn't lead from the front or do their own dirty work.

What's hard is staying away from everyone, but it's worth it. To see them happy and together again. It'll really show it's worth in a few years. When everyone can come together and that bridge doesn't need to divide us anymore. Where markets can be opened and communities can intertwine with one another.

Plus, it's good to see Vander and Silco talking again. Even with everything that's happened last time; Silco grew on me. I never thought he would, but like Powder, he became another father figure to me. He didn't like to show it, but I knew he cared.

It took awhile to find him after I got Vander's letter from the mines, but after a lot of eavesdropping and investigating I tracked him down to some old bunker. Slipped inside when there was an opening and left the letter. Just had to hope that was enough to change his mind, and luckily it was.

Without Silco meeting Singed, Shimmer doesn't exist, and hopefully it stays that way for good. Though I still keep an eye out for it. Either way it's one problem dealt with, now onto the bigger one. Hextech.

That one damn job ruined everything, even when I tried preventing it from happening or going wrong. Things still went to shit. Hextech, always advertised as a sign of progress and innovation for everyone was only made for the wealthy. While Piltover thrived, Zuan was left in the dust and forgotten. It only stirred the pot and upped the heat. It just made people more frustrated, hateful, and more open to an aggressive stand against Piltover.

Watching all of this play out was one thing, but living in it? Watching as your very own home was slowly killing itself with no help from it's so called leaders? It was horrible. So many people I knew were killed, corrupted or became another addict hooked on Shimmer. Meanwhile the council and enforcers just let it happen. They could have at least gained control before it grew too big, it was obvious what was beginning to fester, but they didn't. Too busy enjoying the benefits of Hextech and luxury.

'Fuck Hextech.'

My mind wanders and procrastinates on possible dangers and outcomes as I make my way home. Before I know it I'm already across the Undercity, deep into the lanes where it reaches under the river above. Dark, smog everywhere and mostly filled with lowlife crooks and junkies, but less likely to run into the family. Here I can stay hidden.

I find my way home safely in an abandoned building. Parts of it crumbled away, but I managed to make a home for myself in one of the rooms on the upper floors. It was enough.

"Home, sweet home.", I say as I close the door behind me and lock it. I toss the bag aside to count later before flopping myself down on my makeshift bed. Not comfy, but better than nothing. I turn over and stare at the ceiling as I contemplate the future.

"I need to stop Hextech no matter what. One job. Get in, take the crystals, and get out before the crew get's there. Just gotta wait for Jayce to get here. Then it'll all be okay.", I say as begin to drift off into much needed sleep.

Powder Pov

"Stupid, Mylo. What does he know?", while fiddling with one of the toys Vander got for me. Looking out over the buildings buildings of Zuan and the few stars I can see in the night.

PoWDEr

I wheel my head around looking for the source of the unknown voice.

"Hello?", I call out but receive no response.

Y'kNoW, YOu'Re SmArTer tHaN yOu tHiNk yOu'Re RiGhT?

I hear it again, so I stand up and search my surroundings.

"W-Who's there!?", I say, trying to be as brave as Vi. I don't think I'm doing that good.

PoWder, pLEasE LisTen tO Me cAUse I mEAN it. yOU'rE nOt a jiNx. YOu'Re So mUcH MoRe tHaN yOu ThInK yOu ArE, yOU jUsT DoN't sEe iT yEt.

I hear the weird voice again. I realize it's not from someone but from my head, like when I remember a conversation, but much louder. I suddenly feel a sharp headache.

"W-What's happening?" I ask not knowing what's going on.

JinX oR No JiNx. I wiLl AlWaYs bE hERe PoWder. I pROmiSe. I wOn'T aBaNdOn YoU.

Why did that voice sound familiar? Why was it comforting?

"Who are you?"

"Powder!"

I lift my head and see Vi looking relieved, probably has been looking for me.

"There you are I was looking around for you. C'mon it's time for bed.", she says, but I stay still and wait for my headache to die down before taking a breather. I see Vi walk towards me before kneeling down and putting a hand on my head.

"Hey, is everything okay Pow Pow? What's wrong?", Vi asks with concern in her eyes and voice, but I don't know how to respond.

'I don't even know what that was.'

"....Yeah, I-I think so. Just a little headache.", I say, not wanting to worry her over was I heard. Remembered? I don't know.

"Are you sure?"

I do take a second to consider telling her the truth but.....

I wiLl AlWaYs bE hERe PoWder. I pROmiSe.

"Yup. It's fine. I think I'm tired from working on my stuff all day.", I say, trying my best to sound casual. She looks hesitant for second before nodding.

"Alright. Let's go to bed.", She says as she stands up and puts a hand on my shoulder and we head back inside.

As we walk to our room I can't help but think about that voice.

'Why do I remember it? Vi never said that, not Claggor, not Ekko either and definitely not Mylo. So, who is it?'

As I lay in bed and drift off to sleep I can't help but still feel that pull to that voice.

'Why can't I remember? And, why does that make me sad?'

3rd Person

As Powder goes to bed for the night with a head filled with questions about an unfamiliar, yet nostalgic voice. She doesn't know she is not the only one.

A voice being remembered by multiple people, but not able to be recognized by any. It only brings more questions and a feeling of longing and guilt for this voice. Unknowingly something darker lurks underneath all of it. Waiting.

Note: Might either do a little time skip next and work on a little more development for events and the reader, or just do a big time skip next chapter. IDK, I'll figure it out. I just didn't want there to be and immediate jump in time and at least have some kind of development on how things have changed and what reader is doing, and have been doing.

#yandere arcane #yandere arcane x reader #arcane au #yandere silco #yandere vander #yandere vi #yandere claggor #yandere mylo #yandere ekko #yandere powder #yandere caitlyn #platonic yandere

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milkbean69 · 7 months ago

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My thoughts on the Yandere Arcane Au

Tw: sorry y'all not good at writing yandere, yandere content

Okay before we get started we need to talk about what this universe of the undersity looks like pre- time skip. Honestly I think that this univers had a lot more progression in term of revolution and a lot less shimmer. Also considering the fact that Vander and Silco were able make up after Vi's death makes me think there was a lot less bloodshed between the two over the years. I mean of course silco when and found the note vander left but the fact that the crew is all laughing and partying together means there has to be new layers of loyalty amongst the crew caused by Vi's death.

Yandere's Vander and Silco:

OH GOD!!!! These two I swear, I honestly feel like in terms of protectiveness Vander would actually be worse. I mean he watched Vi die in the attack so you have that. He would not want to lose another.

If Vander was a platonic yandere, yeah no, your never leaving the Last Drop without him ever again. The trama he has from Vi is crazy. But if it was a romantic situation, he would be a little more lenient.

Now for platonic yandere Silco. I feel like a lot of protectiveness would come from a place of guilt and attonment. I mean his actions killed Vi during the pre-timeskip in this universe and he is probably still feel's guilty for that despite the fact that he has been forgiven.

So I feel like bring a young obsession or kid into the mix, would make him feel like he needs to make amends for what he did. Not only to prove to himself but for the others aswell that no other will die under his care.

Now them as a pair, would go crazy platonic or not. We need to remember something the two are brothers and the the pillars of the undercity. So the levels of communication and partnership are already there. There abilities to unite people would probably be where a lot of the Yanderness of the crew starts to fester. Always having someone with you, eyes and ears all over Zaun, and generally not being fucked with or else you'll have two of the powerhouse's of Zaun on you doorstep.

If this was romantic, they would share, God damn it. I don't know what it is but they would share, I just know it. You would be the king/queen of the Zaun in Silco's eyes, Vander hates it because he feels like if bring to much attention to you. Your always with on or the other. Silco defininatly spoils you, I mean you know he would.

Here me out, I feel like they both also have some fears from what happened to Felicia, so that definitly are supper on edge all the time because of that. One of both of them had to have liked her romantically, I was felling the vibes during the flashback.

Okay but I feel like they would be worse than the adults, in terms of platonic yandere's. Like we saw Vi's death really fucked them up. You would 100% be the Vi replacement. Expecally if you were older than them.

With Powder , it would be the worst. She wouldn't be violent, but more manipulative in certain ways., 100% a guilt tripper. Then would rope the other into it as well. Saying things to you about how you remind them so much of Vi, and there protection is just so you don't end up like her, so you should never leave them.

You probably wouldn't go on jobs, mostly saying in the last drop with Vander and Benzo. Maybe they let you go into Piltover, but you are always with someone. But never in the more dangerous parts of Zaun that have yet to be changed, and you still got to worry about the grey. the wouldn't want ther baby breathing in all that polluted air.

With a younger obsession, your never leaving there sights again. Even if you were a year younger than them, your getting little siblinged so hard. They have so much more experience now and realize all of the thing they did as kids was dumb and dangerous. They probably teach you how to fight just in case they are not there. But that is unlikely considering how mother hen they all are. If you ever when parkouring like they used to in piltover you would get an earful.

Powder and Ekko would make you little trinkets and gadgets. They'd make things to lure you in and bribe you. Or to love bomb you when you complain they are being to overprotective.

They would be so affectionate. Powder and Claggor the most, we all saw that scene with Claggor and Milo during the dance. Honestly I feel like Milo would be affectionate in the annoying older brother way, like ruffeling you hair and picking you. Ekko would be affectionate when you inationating it.

In tems of duos we would have Claggor with Milo and Powder with Ekko. Milo is the one to tease you alot, but he means well. He probably thinks he's the funnies guy on the planet, when in reality it's probably Claggor. Milo seems like the more aggressive on in terms of yandere's. He is the jokester character but see seems more scared that something might happen to you. That make him more aggressive and paranoid. While Claggor is more level headed and perceptive, but don't be mistaken, he has build and is the stronger of the two

Between Powder and Ekko, Powder is the one you need to worry about. She lost her older sister, Powder was the youngest of the group, so in her mind she is kind of filling Vi's role as older siblng, and must protect you like Vi did her. Should someone try to hurt there darling, Powder is the impulsive one but Ekko is the deadlier one between the two. Ekko is calm and more laid back, but he seems like he has the patience to go in for the kill on the first strike. Silent but deadly.

Now with romance, there all into you, sorry not sorry. I actually don't think they would have the company to share a darling. Powder and Ekko, maybe? But Claggor and Milo, definitly not. Milo would be that last to realize that everyone is pinning after the same darling, there all pretty perceptive so it wouldn't take them long to figure it out amongst eachother.

You would never have any partners, they would scare them all away. Powder would be the dustrusstful one spreading seed of dought anytime someone would flirt with you, saying there not good enought for you. Ekko and Claggor would be the intimidating ones, Ekko has the deadly glare while Claggor has the build to scare off any potital suitors. Milo is one of two, he is the one who likes to claim you already taken, usually with him saying he's you boyfriend, or the physical aggression type. He will get kind of pissy wanting your attention kind of annoying the person flirting with you. Then maybe ruffing the person's up after they leave your earshot so you don't see.

They would all try to one up each other in there own ways Claggor is the more laid-back type and lenient of yandere, so he would milk you needing to escape from the other craziness. Powder is clingy type and needs to be near you always. Ekko seems like the silent type, always lurking in the shadows, the man always has his eyes on you and knows where you are. Milo seems like the possessive and aggressive. Not aggressive in the, I'm going to hurt you type of way but someone else for looking at you the wrong type of way.

No matter who you end up with its going to be messy, I'm sure of it.

#yandere arcane #yandere milo #yandere ekko #yandere silco #platonic yandere silco #yandere vander #platonic yandere vander #platonic yandere jinx #yandere jinx #platonic yandere claggor #yandere claggor #platonic yandere ekko #yandere arcane x reader #yandere powder #platonic yandere powder

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jinxedbychaos · 8 months ago

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Echoes of Insanity Ch. 3

Monsters and Heroes

Jinx (Powder) x twin sister

Past-

The room is dimly lit, the soft patter of rain tapping against the windows. Their family's one room home is small, but cozy. With their parents sleeping not far away on a small bed tucked into the corner.

Vi crouches low, her hands curled into playful claws as she pretends to be a growling monster. Little Powder and Ash giggle as they scramble behind a makeshift fort, built from old blankets and boxes.

"I'm a monster! and I'm gonna get you!" Vi says

She keeps her voice low, careful not to wake their parent, but playful menace in her tone sends shivers through the room.

Powder and Ash, once smiling, suddenly exchange wide eyed glances as Vi prowls toward them. Their excitement shift to unease as Vi lets out a quiet roar, the sound a little too loud for comfort in the cramped space.

"No… Vi, stop…" Ash whimpers.

Ash's voice trembles, and she and Powder huddle together, trying to hide beneath the blankets, their small bodies shaking with fear.

Vi's heart sinks the moment she sees their faces. Making her drop the "monster" act instantly.

"Hey, Hey, it's okay! I'm not a monster anymore." Vi says softly and reassuringly.

She steps toward them, her eyes widening in playful alarm as she pretends to spot something behind them.

Vi gasp "Wait… I see it! The monster!"

Powder and Ash both whip their heads around, wide eyed, searching frantically for the monster.

"Where? Where is it?" Ash whispers worried.

Tears well up in both Ash's and Powder's eyes, their imaginations running wild. Vi, quick on her feet, grabs an old stick lying nearby and swings it dramatically through the air.

"There! I'll get it! Don't worry, I'll save you!" Vi says

She swing the stick through the air, pretending to fight off the invisible monster. With each exaggerated swipe, the fear in her sisters faces melts away, replaced with awe and laughter.

"Get it Vi!" Powder says giggling.

"Go, Vi!" Ash cheers.

They watch as Vi delivers one final, exaggerated blow, defeating the invisible monster. She stands up, breathing heavily.

"It's gone. You're safe now" Vi grins proudly.

Powder and Ash rush forward, wrapping their arms around Vi in a tight hug, their earlier fear completely forgotten. Vi smiles, wrapping her arms around them pulling them closer.

"see? I won't let any monster hurt you." Vi says tucking them in the bed with her.

She lays down with them on the small bed, the three of them nestled together, safe and warm under the blankets. the soft sound of rain continues outside as their world becomes a little smaller and safer, wrapped up in each other.

Present-

We walk through the dimly lit interior of The Last Drop, heads down, going down into the basement room, we drop onto different couches Powder and me siting close together, the tension hanging thick in the air.

"Vander learns none of this." Vi mutter, her voice low but firm

"No worries there. Powder and Ash took care of the evidence" Mylo says

"We tried, okay?" Powder shoots back defensively. I chime in "You don't get it you're older" frustration bubbling up in my voice.

"You're bigger!. It, it isn't fair!" Powder adds, her small fists clenched in frustration.

"So stick with us!" Mylo snaps, his voice harsh, his anger barely contained. "Take a punch or two."

The sudden creak of a door cuts through the air, and we all turn as Vander steps in, his eyes landing on Vi, who tries to avoid his gaze. Powder and I shrink into the couch, clutching each other, trying to blend into the couch.

"Everyone alright?" Vander's voice is calm as he descends the stairs.

"Never better." Mylo says a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

"Good" Vander responds "I don't suppose you can explain why it is that I'm hearing about an explosion" he continues, his hands on his back as he walks through the room "and a foot chase topside? five children fleeing the scene."

Nobody meet his eyes everyone trying to look elsewhere.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Vander's voice rises, his frustration seeping through.

"That we could handle a real job." Vi finally snaps, lifting her head to meet his gaze with defiance.

"A real job?" Vander repeats, incredulity in his voice.

"We got our own tip, planned a route, nobody ever saw." Vi says, he voice sharpening as the anger builds.

"You blew up a building!" Vander shoot back.

"That wasn't-" Vi begins but Vander cuts her off, his patience worn thin.

"Did you ever stop to think about what could have happened to you?" he nearly shouts "eh? To them?" he gestures towards us, but we avoid his gaze, trying to disappear.

"Where did you even get this tip?" Vander presses, turning his attention fully to Vi.

"We heard it at Benzo's shop." Powders blurts out, drawing everyone's attention to her.

"From?" Vander asks, his brow furrowed.

"Little Man" she admits, her voice small.

Vander lets out a heavy sigh.

Vi stands, stepping closer to him "I took us there. if you wanna be mad, be mad at me" she says, her voice steady "But you're the one who always says we have to earn our place in this world"

Vander's face hardens "I also told you time and time again, the northside's off limit" Vander shouts at Vi "We stay out of Piltover's business"

"Why?" Vi shoots back, her voice rising again "They've got plenty, while we're down here scraping together coins. When did you get so comfortable living in someone else's shadow?"

The rooms falls silent, Even Mylo. We all look at them in silence

"everyone out" Vander says, his voice calm.

Vander and Vi face each other as the rest of the gang stand and leave the room. I grab Powder's hand and together we slip out of the room.

We head upstairs, leaving Vander and Vi behind the room, their voices jus a murmur now. Claggor and Mylo stop outside the door trying to eavesdrop, Mylo leans his ear against the door. But Powder and I make our way to the back door of The Last Drop. Neither of us say a word as we step into the alley, the door creaking shut behind us. The cool air brushes against our skin, but we keep holding hands, a silent comfort.

I glance at Powder. her blue eyes wide with lingering guilt.

"Do you think… Vi's mad at us?" She finally whispers, her voice almost trembling.

I squeeze her hand "I-I don't know" I admit.

"I-I hate this" Powder whispers her lip quivering. "We mess everything up. We always do"

"It's not our fault" I reply, though my voice wavers, not fully convinced myself.

Powders look at me, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. "but.. what if Mylo is right? What if we're just… jinxes?"

I pause, letting her words linger in the air. "He's wrong" I say, this time more firmly, though doubt nags at me too "We can probe him wrong, we just need to try harder"

Powder squeezes my hand tighter, a flicker of hope igniting behind her worried expression. "You really think so?"

"I know so" I say offering a small, reassuring smile. "Let's see what we can find around here. Maybe we can build something new a better bomb"

Her face lights up at the suggestion, the spark of invention returning to her eyes "yeah! Let's do that!"

Together, we start searching through the alley, our eyes scanning the ground and near by trash bins. We approach a rusted pipe, and I try to twist the cap off, but it's stuck "Help me, Powder" I say, and together we manage to pry it open.

peering inside, I spot something shiny at the bottom. I stretch my arm in, trying to reach it, but it's just out of grasp. "Too far" I mutter

"I'll try" Powder offers. She slides her arm in, streatching her fingers toward the object.

While she tries to reach the object, I glance over and notice Claggor and Vander slipping out the back door, carrying a bag full of something. They don't say a word, just passing us by in silence.

"Got it!" Powder exclaims, pulling out the small, gleaming object. She holds it up to show me, and I reach to grab it. We both turn it over in our hands, examining it closely. Once I let go, Powder tucks it into her pocket.

As she does, her fingers brush against something else, the blue crystals we took from the workshop, She takes one out of her pocket and her hand closes around it, Her eyes widening. "We have to show this to Vi"

Without wasting another moment, we run back to the door, and hurry downstairs to the basement, jumping the last step.

As we reach the ajar basement door. Just as we're about to entry, we hear the voices from within. Mylo's speaking to Vi.

"they're a problem" Mylo grumbles.

Vi sighs. "Mylo, I'm really not-"

But Mylo cuts her off. "Do you remember what was in that bag?" He throws a ball against the wall, catching it on the rebound "The biggest payout we've ever seen, and they just lost it"

"They made a mistake" Vi says, defending us.

Mylo throws the ball again. "Name one time they haven't"

"They're young" Vi replies, her voice quieter but firm.

"Don't bullshit me" Mylo snaps, tossing the ball against the wall again "You were twice the person at half their age."

"You know what, Mylo you're right" Vi says.

Her words hit me hard, a surge of emotions bubbling up, anger, sadness, confusion. It all mixes together in a tight knot inside me.

"There's a bunch of things Powder and Ash just can't do" Vi continues, her voice steady but sharp.

"You don't need to tell me twice" Mylo mutters, throwing the ball again.

I can't listen to this anymore. I grab Powder's arm, and we quietly slip away, heading to our room. I don't want to hear another word.

Once inside, I let go of her arm and sit down on the bunk bed, starring at the wall in silence. The weight of everything sinks in, pressing down on my chest. I don't say anything to Powder, I don't even know what to say.

Powder watches me, she is as confused and hurt as I am. After a moment, she walks over to the record player, pulling out a disc. She carefully places it on the turntable and lowers the needle, and then she comes to sit beside me.

We don't speak. we just sit there, listening to the music.

Neither of us mentions what Vi said. It’s too raw, too painful to dig into right now. But the words hang between us like a shadow.

Powder fidgets beside me, her knee bouncing nervously. I know she’s thinking about it too, but like me, she's not sure how to talk about it. Finally, she breaks the silence.

"does Vi hates us?," she asks, her voice shaky.

I don’t answer right away. Thinking about what to say, Instead, I reach for the box under the bed the one with the scraps we’ve found. I pull it out and open it, revealing wires, metal bits, broken gadgets, everything we’ve managed to collect for our next project.

“I-i don't know” I finally admit, my voice barely more than a whisper, "Maybe she does" I say as I run my fingers over the pieces, Trying to focus on something else, I grab one and start working on it, the movement familiar, almost automatic.

Powder watches me for a moment, then pulls her knees to her chest. After a beat, she leans forward, rummaging through the parts beside me. The energy between us shifts, our focus turning to the creation in front of us. It's like we’re speaking through the work, letting it fill the space between us instead of words.

After a while, of pulling wires and putting metal scraps together, we finally finish. We both smile, just a little. It's not like the pain is gone, or that Vi's word didn't hurt, but building something together just make us feel better.

Powder picks up the crayons and starts drawing on our creation, giving it a face with sharp, spiky teeth. When I reach for the a crayon to add my own touch. We hear Vi's voice coming from the top bunk.

"What are you calling this one?" she asks, looking down at us.

Our smiles fall instantly as we look up at her.

"Whisker" Powder answers.

Vi climb down from the bed and sit with us.

"You guys wanna talk about today?" Vi asks gently.

"What's the point?" Powder mumbles "we've ruined everything. we always do"

"Nobody said that" Vi replies.

"No. just that you were 'twice the person' at half our age" I say, a bit of sarcasm slipping into my voice.

"You heard them" Powder adds, her voice small "we're not fighters."

"You don't have to be" Vi says, trying to reassure us. "look, I've got these" She says, holding up her fists, "and you've got those" She points to the bomb shells scattered across the bed.

"They never work" I mutter, frustration bubbling up as I pull my legs to my chest and hug them tighter.

"They will" Vi says firmly. Then she stands "Come with me."

"What?" Powder asks, glancing at Vi then back at me.

"Come on!" Vi repeats walking off.

Powder hesitates but gets up from the bed, offering me her hand. which I take, and together we follow Vi.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

Ch. 1 - Ch. 4

I was supposed to update this on Sunday, but I forgot sorry.

My exams are close so I need to focus on studying which means there won't be updates as often :( But I'll try to make some time into writing though I can't promise.

Don't forget to leave a like and a comment I'm open to suggestions.

#jinx arcane x reader #vi x reader #arcane #jinx #vi arcane #mylo arcane #claggor arcane #fluff #vi arcane x reader #vander arcane x reader #arcane imagine #powder arcane #jinx league of legends #platonic #angst

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damn-stark · 2 months ago

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I was going over a scene with Joel and mc and I remembered this scene!!

AND I JUST WANT TO SAY THAT NO MATTER HOW OLD HIS LITTLE GIRL GETS, JOEL WILL ALWAYS SEE THE FOUR YEAR OLD LITTLE GIRL YOU WERE BEFORE THE OUTBREAK!

#tragedy at the millers #damn-stark #fanfiction #Joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x daughter!reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #jink/powder #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction

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daydreamgoddess14 · 30 days ago

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Breakfast

My first Thunderbolts* fic!

I am so in love with this bunch of losers. I was already all in on Bucky anyway, but the others are magic and I love them all 🥰

Anyway, I bashed this little Tower Tale out this afternoon. It's probably the first of miniseries, so be sure to look out for any follow-ups!

Thunderbolts* (platonic for now) x F!Reader, no warnings, just some domestic sweetness. Bucky x F!Reader if you squint. It's brewing.

Word count: 1.5k

Under the cut in case of ~spoilers~ though there aren't any, really.

There was no food.

What the everloving fuck were they eating?

You opened another cupboard.

Three boxes of Wheaties, two of them ripped open like they'd been mauled by a wild animal.

In the fridge, a bottle of vodka with less than half a measure left, a single egg, leftover chilli fries with mould creeping into the edge of the cardboard and an apple with a bite taken out of it.

You propped the fridge open with your hip and started launching the contents into the open trash can.

With a final yeet, the egg was the last item. You heard it crack as it made contact with the vodka bottle.

“Who're you?” a voice asked from across the room.

“Oh!” You jumped, the fridge knocking against your elbow as you moved.

“Where's all the food?” You asked the dark haired man. He stared, wide eyed, and tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Umm…” he looked around, as if waiting for someone to turn up and answer on his behalf. “There's Wheaties?”

“Yeah. And literally nothing else.”

“It's Alexei's turn to shop.”

“Hmm. And when was the last time you ate?”

“Breakfast.”

“Today?”

“Yeah… well, like, 2am when everyone got back,” he shrugged. “We had Wheaties a la Bob.”

“Do I want to know?”

“With water not milk. Because there was no milk.”

Your lips pinched together and you sighed.

“That's… that's gross. So I take it you're Bob?”

“Yeah, the others are sleeping I think. Late night.”

“And you're all grown adults?”

“I mean, Bucky's like, 110!”

“And not one of you thought to visit a grocery store? Or get DoorDash?”

“We get DoorDash all the time, Alexei is like the king of DoorDash.”

“Ah,” you think you're starting to see the problem. The reason you've been hired.

“John always takes the leftovers. And Bucky.”

You lift the heavy grocery bag onto the counter and Bob's eyes widen.

“Right, Bob,” you start unpacking. “You want some real breakfast?”

He's cautious about talking too much.

He fidgets on the stool while he watches you chop onions, mushrooms, bell peppers, potatoes. Mel had been underselling the facilities. You'd found a pantry with every gadget under the sun, brand new pots and pans still in their packaging. Your brain went into overdrive.

The kitchen begins to fill with the intoxicating scent of various foods cooking, of freshly brewed coffee and pancake syrup.

As you're frying cubes of potato sprinkled with paprika and garlic powder, he's inching forwards, leaning over the counter to see what you're doing.

“Who the fuck are you?” Another voice spoke up.

“Who's asking?”

“John Walker. You gonna answer me now?”

“Take a seat, John, coffee's just brewed.”

He stayed on his feet, looking between you, Bob, and the magic happening on the stove top.

“Oi, fucking move, Walker. Why are you just standing in the way?”

“Who's she?” He asks Ava who shrugs.

“Who cares, I smell food. And coffee!”

“You gotta talk to him about the limo, Lena,” another voice entered the room.

“I tried! He won't listen to me, you need to try. Like, soldier to soldier.”

“That's… that's not gonna happen and you know it. What's that smell?”

“Food. Real food,” the blonde woman peered around Walker at you. “What's this?”

“This?” You asked, assessing the selection so far. “Well, starting this end, croissants, fruit, yogurt, then I've just finished the fried potatoes - those are gonna be so good with the shakshuka that's just finishing in the oven, then there's eggs benedict, bacon, mushrooms, pancakes and syrup…” you looked up at the five bemused faces.

“Smells like heaven,” a voice bellowed, “What is this? Who is cooking?” Alexei came to a halt and looked over Yelena’s head. “An angel. An angel is cooking. You!” He pushed his way between Ava and Bucky making his way toward you, and then took your hand, shaking it vigorously. “I am Alexei, Daddy Avenger. You can call me daddy,” he winked.

“Oh, god’” Yelena heaved. Ava grimaced.

You smiled gently, “I will not be calling you daddy. But it is good to meet you. All of you. Food is pretty much ready, so… help yourselves I guess?”

Bob went first, to everyone's surprise and confusion, the others were far more cautious. John warily sniffed each dish before settling on the pre packaged croissants.

“I'll make fresh tomorrow, I wasn't sure what time I'd have today,” you explained. He ignored you.

Ava went for the pancakes with bacon, “and these are -?”

“Freshly made. There's still some batter if you want more?”

Unlike John, she smiled. Tiny and uncertain, but you figured a smile is a smile. Yelena went for the eggs benedict.

“Have you got any -”

“Salmon or ham?” You opened the now full fridge, her jaw dropped.

“Ham, please,” she stared in awe. As you passed her a packet of sliced deli ham, the timer went off on your phone.

You slid open the oven and pulled out a tray, setting it on the counter before it started burning you through the oven mitt.

“Is beautiful,” Alexei sighed happily at the tray of tomatoes with shiny egg whites and sunshine yolks.

“Shakshuka,” you told him. “Fresh bread tomorrow, but have it with potato hash for today,” you handed him an empty plate.

They milled around, taking seconds and thirds but not taking their eyes off you for long.

“You gonna tell us who you are?” Bucky asked, still nursing the singular cup of coffee someone else had passed him.

“Are you going to eat?” You asked.

“Bucky, she is angelic person with food!”

“It is really good food,” Bob smiled warmly.

“Great hollandaise,” Yelena agreed.

“We don't know anything about her, she could have poisoned us -”

“You started off with something out of a packet, but you soon made sure you tried everything else, Walker, don't be ridiculous.” Ava rolled her eyes. “And those pancakes were amazing.”

“So I'm the only one who thinks this is weird?”

“Ms. de Fontaine hired me.”

“Great, of course,” he threw his hands up and scoffed. “She micromanages our diets now?”

“If, by micromanage, you mean she considered the fridge contents a health code violation and has had enough of 3am DoorDash notifications, then yes.”

“And you're here to, what? Cook three square meals a day?”

“Pretty much,” you shrugged.

“That's kinda neat,” Bob beamed.

“We do all hate cooking,” John muttered begrudgingly.

“Only because you're shit at it, John.”

“Ava, swear to god I'm gonna -”

“What, what are you going to do?”

“Guys, enough. You're happy with this?” Bucky asked the group. One by one they all nodded.

“C'mon, Bucky. Try some -” Yelena took an empty plate and started loading it with shakshuka, bacon, and potato hash. She put the plate down in front of him and took his coffee away.

You hid your smile behind tidying up, the others filtered away with nods of thanks. By the time you'd finished arranging the dishwasher and turned around, he was the only one left.

You put a fresh cup of coffee next to his plate and for a moment, his knife and fork paused.

“Happy I haven't poisoned you?”

“Hhmph,” he grunted.

You continued the clean up, compiling the (very few) leftovers, wiping the surfaces, and making notes for a full kitchen restock.

With a neat clatter, his cutlery fell silent. You took the plate, added it to the dishwasher and switched it on. Finally, you passed him a paper bag.

“What's this?”

“I like to finish breakfast with something sweet. I made these yesterday so they're still good, I'll make some more for tomorrow.”

He opened the bag to find a chocolate croissant you'd kept warm.

“Thought you told Walker they were from the store?”

“The ones I put out were, this one isn't.”

He looked at the bag, and back at you, “thank you. About earlier, I didn't mean -”

“It's fine, really.” You smiled. “I know it's hard, someone intruding when you were all doing so well on your own.”

His laugh surprised you, warm and rich.

“Yeah, we're uhh… still figuring it out.”

“Well. Now you have some help. You'll have to let me know your favourite foods, I'll see if I can do them justice.”

“Something tells me that won't be too much of a stretch,” he said softly.

“Barnes! We're out, let's go,” Yelena called from the elevator.

“See you later, doll. Thanks for breakfast.” He held up the croissant in salute and disappeared, leaving nothing but crumbs in his wake.

Main Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The Menu Masterlist

Please note, may contain sugar. Don't forget to tip your hostess with reblogs and ALWAYS ask for second helpings!

#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts fanfic #marvel thunderbolts #bucky barnes #yelena belova #bob #John Walker #bucky barnes x you #bucky marvel #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #thunderbolt spoilers #thunderbolts #thunderbolts!bucky

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pitchsidestories · 2 months ago

Text

the matchmaker II Steph Catley x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1742

summary: A tulip field, a runaway dog, and an unexpected meeting—when Calvin disappears for a moment, he comes back with more than muddy paws: he might’ve just found Steph her perfect match.

author's note: Hi everyone, we truly enjoyed writing this oneshot and hope it brings you just as much joy while reading it. 🌷🌷

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

Spring had officially arrived. The clouds had made space for some sunshine and the air smelled sweetly of the first blooming flowers. It was the perfect day for a trip to the tulip fields, Beth had decided. So, she had rallied a few of her teammates, packed up their dogs, and set out.

Now they stood at the edge of the fields. Neat rows of tulips stretched out in front of them in every shade imaginable. Around them, the space was buzzing with life.

Across the tulip fields was a square with wooden picnic tables and lined with food stalls, from which a delicious smell wafted over to them. People were busy being flowers, taking photos and sipping drinks. It felt like spring.

Calvin and Myle watched the crowd with wagging tails.

“It will be just like the Netherlands.”, Beth told her Dutch girlfriend brightly as they arrived.

Vivianne raised an eyebrow, unimpressed: “I very much doubt that.”

“But they even have Dutch food.”, Lotte pointed out, gesturing towards a stall selling poffertjes. The smell of tiny pancakes and powdered sugar filling the air.

“Won’t be as good as at home.”, Vivianne replied.

Her girlfriend elbowed her gently: “Viv, stop pouting for once and enjoy it. Look how excited Myle and Calvin are to be here.”

Vivianne looked down. Both dogs were sniffing the ground with twitching noses.

Steph nodded, reaching down to pet Calvins head: “Yes, both of them love it here.”

She then turned to her teammates and nodded toward another stall: “Wait here, I’ll get us all coffee. That will definitely lift up Vivs mood. Lotte, can you hold Calv for a second?”

Grinning, the defender took the leash from Steph: “Sure, come here, Calv.”

“Thanks.”, Steph smiled at her teammate and handed Calvin over. She crouched down at Calvins level for a second: “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”

While Steph got their caffeine fix, Vivianne looked across the tulip fields, arms crossed in front of her: “And they call this a tulip field?”

“Stop it and drink your coffee.”, Steph laughed as she returned, balancing a cardboard with to-go cups in her hands. She nudged one into Vivs hands. Just as she was about to pass one to Lotte, she realised that someone was missing.

“Uhm, Lotte? Where’s Calv?”

Panic flashed across Lottes face as she looked down at the now empty leash in her hand: “What? Oh my god, he was right here a second ago!”

“Don’t worry, he can’t be far. He’s probably where the food is.”, Beth said quickly, trying to keep the group calm.

Vivianne sighed, already scanning the crowd. “We’ll help you find him.”

With Calvins size, it wasn’t hard to spot him. He sat patiently in front of a woman in shorts, tail wagging as she scratched behind his ears like he had known her forever.

A relieved gasp escaped Steph’s lips the moment her eyes landed on her beloved dog—Calvin. He meant even more to her now than ever; he had been by her side when her previous relationship fell apart, helping her through the heartbreak.

“There he is!”, she exclaimed.

You looked up casually from the dog, only to meet the most enchanting brown eyes you’d ever seen.

“Oh, hi. Is this your dog?”

“Yes, that’s Calvin.”, the woman replied, her face lighting up with a smile that could outshine the spring sun. Wow, she’s gorgeous, you thought to yourself.

You turned your attention back to the dog you’d just met: “Hi, Calvin.”

For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, until you noticed three other women approaching and coming to a stop just behind her. Later, you'd come to know them as Beth, Lotte, and Vivianne.

“Oh, you’re Dutch too.”, the Manchester City player observed.

Her accent caught you off guard—it had a Scottish lilt to it, nothing like the Dutch tones you were used to. You gestured to the charming surroundings and explained: “Yes, I’m helping out some family here.”

“I told you this place felt authentically Dutch!”, the blonde chimed in, beaming up at the taller woman beside her, whose hand she held as if it belonged there. It didn’t take much to guess they were a couple.

To your surprise, Vivianne addressed you in Dutch: “Zorg je voor het eten of voor de bloemen?” (Are you taking care of the food or the flowers?)

“De bloemen.”, you replied with a soft smile. (The flowers.)

Beth nudged Steph gently, her blue eyes dancing with amusement: “Calvin seems to really like her.”

“Yes, he won’t leave her side. Calv, come on.”, Steph said, clearly entertained by her dog’s sudden loyalty.

With a cheeky grin, the blonde quipped: “Looks like Calvin wants her number before he goes.”

“Beth!”, Steph exclaimed, fingers running nervously through her hair.

You perked up, half-laughing, half-curious. “My phone number?”

With a cocky grin, Beth suggested: “He clearly wants to see you again. And so does his mum.”

“She does? Is that true?”, you asked, glancing hopefully at the dog’s owner.

Before she had the chance to overthink it, her lips were already moving, her voice tinged with a nervous edge—it had been a while since she’d done anything like this: “Uhm… yes. Yes, we do.”

“Wait.”, you said quickly, before stepping away for a moment. When you returned, you held out a small scrap of paper, your phone number neatly scribbled on it.

A shy smile played across your lips as you handed it to her: “Here you go.”

“Thank you.”, Steph murmured, instinctively pressing the note close to her chest.

“Don’t hesitate to call or text me, yeah? I just need to get back to work now.”, you responded with a gentle smile.

“Promise I will.”, she replied, eyes locked on yours as though she was trying to memorise the moment.

Her gaze lingered on you, following your every step until you disappeared into the colourful crowd, the blur of people and petals reminding her of the tulips scattered at her feet.

Lotte grinned, absolutely delighted by the interaction and petted Calvins head: “Didn’t know Calvin was such a matchmaker.”

“Looks like he has a lot of hidden talents.”, Beth agreed.

Steph smiled down at her dog: “Good boy.”

With a smirk, Beth nodded towards the piece of paper Steph was still holding: “Looks like you’ll have a date soon.”

“Yes. God, I’m so nervous. I haven’t been on a date in a while.”, Steph admitted, tension creeping into her posture.

“Just bring Calvin and you already have something to talk about.”, Lotte replied, only half-joking.

Just a few days and many text messages later, you were set to meet Steph at Hampstead Heath. Your heart pounded as you waited, a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You tried to calm yourself down by repeatedly reminding yourself that it was only a walk.

Suddenly, Calvin came running toward you, tail wagging furiously. He launched himself at you, trying to lick your face.

With a laugh, you bent down to greet him as Steph called him back.

“Hi, Steph. I saw these and had to think of you.”, you smiled when you finally greeted each other properly, holding out the bouquet.

Stephs eyes widened as she took the flowers: “Oh my god, they’re beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.”, you smiled, feeling a blush rise in your cheeks.

She handed you a to-go cup and you made a mental note that you had essentially never seen her without a cup of coffee in her hand.

“I got us coffee. I wasn’t sure what you like but I thought I couldn’t go wrong with a flat white.”, she said.

You inhaled the aroma of the warm beverage: “Thank you. Flat whites are my favourite.”

“Oh, mine too.”

With Calvin growing impatient, he three of you began to follow a little path through the lush green grass.

“So, “, you said after walking a while in comfortable silence. “I know you like flat whites, your dog and flowers. What else is there to know?”, you asked after you walked a while in silence.

Steph pretended to think for a moment: “I’m a football player, I’m Australian if you haven’t noticed and I’ve never been on a date with someone my dog picked out.”

You chuckled, your gaze following Calvin as he trotted ahead: “To be fair, Calvin gave me most charming meet-cute I ever had too.”

“I’m sure he knew what he was doing.”, the Australian commented with certainty.

You smiled at him affectionately: “Absolutely.” For a moment, you paused before confessing: “I’m glad we met that way.”

“You are? This wasn’t too much, or anything?”, she asked, listening carefully. You quickly reassured her.: “No, it was perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

The two of you sat down on the bench. Calvin curled up peacefully beneath it. From there, you both had a wonderful view of the London skyline, framed by a beautiful blue sky. For a fleeting moment, a butterfly settled on the dog’s nose.

Curiously, Steph glanced your way.: “Oh, good. So, you help out with your parents’ flower fields? What else do you do?”

“I usually work as a florist in the city.”, you replied.

Turning her attention to the bouquet in her hands, the footballer murmured with genuine admiration: “Wow. Did you make this?”

“I did. I love being creative with it.”, you confirmed.

Just a few hours earlier, you’d carefully arranged the flowers, wondering what she might like. It had also helped calm your nerves before the date, giving you something to focus on, something to do with your hands.

A beautiful smile lit up the brunette’s face: “They’re really lovely.”

“Glad you liked them.”, you hummed, smiling back.

From there, the conversation flowed easily. The nervousness of the first few minutes melted away under the lovely sunshine. The walk was filled with laughter and little stories, and both of you knew—you wanted to see each other again.

Steph and you yearned for more time together before you even parted. And when you finally had to, you ended it with a kiss, just as the sky turned shades of purple and pink above you.

With a soft grin, the defender knelt beside Calvin and whispered into his ear: “Thank you, Calv. I really do like her.”

In return, he gave a quiet, knowing bark—as if he understood completely.

image sources: https://www.instagram.com/bethmead_/p/DIjkYXIsH6Q/?hl=com&img_index=2

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wildwestdean · 1 year ago

Text

transposition

summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made

pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)

word count: 6.3k+

warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”

“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch.

“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-”

“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation.

“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you.

It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together.

“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients.

“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”

“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”

He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back.

With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t.

You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension.

“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-”

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands?

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body?

“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you.

“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”

“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around.

“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself.

“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode.

“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!”

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room.

“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?”

“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind.

“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare.

“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on.

Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.”

“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat.

Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now.

“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling.

“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily.

Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time.

“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.

Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”

“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?”

“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be.

“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him.

“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!”

“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return.

“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean.

“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again.

“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”

“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face.

“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.”

“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room.

You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes.

“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression.

“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you.

“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug.

“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!”

“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.”

“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.”

“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.”

“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish.

With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen.

“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”

“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?”

“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”

“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!”

“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!”

“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”

“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.”

“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!”

“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen.

“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table.

Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.”

Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort.

Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze.

“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head.

Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite.

“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food.

The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere.

“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin.

You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?”

“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?”

“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.

After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t.

“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly.

You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier.

“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.

“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.”

“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving.

You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle.

“You alright?” you asked tentatively.

“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one.

“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.”

“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better.

He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation.

He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.”

“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word.

You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.

“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table.

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration.

“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”

“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.”

“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return.

You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.”

Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”

“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation.

“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.”

You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk.

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously.

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.”

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”

You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.

“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you.

“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively.

You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.”

“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.”

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically.

“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.”

“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.”

“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off.

“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.”

“Promise?” you asked meekly.

“I promise,” he said firmly.

“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further.

“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears.

“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly.

“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.

The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.

You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on.

“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously.

“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question.

You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this.

“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter.

The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you.

Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake.

The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day.

You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there.

You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam.

You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything.

The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore.

Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out.

You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs.

“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat.

Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.”

“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?”

“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.

“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?”

“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”

You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave.

“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you.

“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards.

“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?”

“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.”

Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.”

“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”

“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words.

“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward.

“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response.

“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.”

“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.

“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.”

You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name.

“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.”

You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you?

“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.”

“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps.

“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker.

“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.

“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.

“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently.

“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly.

It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated.

“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.”

“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation.

“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?”

“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her.

“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly.

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.

It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.

“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?”

“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around.

“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!”

Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room.

“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief.

“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar.

You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.

“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-”

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.

“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.

“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room.

“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by.

“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car.

The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him.

If he ever decided to open the goddamn door.

“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time.

You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?”

You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward.

He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly.

“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.”

He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.”

“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you.

“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.

“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet.

“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work.

“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.”

“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him.

“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-”

“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”

“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.

“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more.

“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.”

“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat.

“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.”

“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked.

“We didn’t lie, we just-”

“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”

“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?”

“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?”

“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.”

“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess.

You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?”

He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?”

“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.

“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down.

“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him.

“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?”

“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more.

“You said-”

“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”

“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin.

“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”

You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low.

“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.

As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks.

When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips.

You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.”

“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”

tagging: @winharry

dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika

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mossangelll · 3 months ago

Text

is that hyperpigmentation?

arcane characters x reader

basically what the title says, you draw the arcane characters à la hyperpigmentation 😍 i needed smth silly to work on to get me out of my writing rut, hope you enjoy :p

content: gn!reader, reader is their partner (could be seen as platonic/child reader but i think most of, if not all, the hcs allude or explicitly call reader their partner - sorry!)

Jinx

she LOVES it

as an artist, engineer, overall creator she can really appreciate the more wacky expressions of art

she does a whole art critique (barely a critique tbh) and pretends to be some stuffy piltie talking about the genius and emotion behind the artwork

“ya know, toots, i’m reaaallyyyy enjoying what ya did with that…um, splodge? on my face there. yeah!”

she draws her own version but this time it’s a portrait of you

you swap them and have a cute little date where you colour the pictures in together and add details in the background

by the end, jinx’s workshop is covered in glue and glitter and paint and powder and also for some reason silly string

jinx even makes frames from scratch so they can be hung up - they’re probably the most nicely presentee decoration she has in her place

Ekko

you slide the portrait of him over to his side of the table in silence

he looks down absently and has to do a double take

“this is…me?” he asks hesitantly with his eyes widened like a deer in headlights; a look you rarely ever see from him - you nod and confirm his fears

“we have one tree down here. paper’s expensive. remember that.”

walks away and goes about his duties helping the firelights and though you suspect he might be upset, he did take the picture with him

feels so guilty about his reaction he almost sacks himself into a wall as he rides his hover board

later that night he apologises and makes a show of sticking the picture on his bedroom wall (in the corner he can barely see of course)

she’s been in prison and seen some interesting tattoos but this takes the cake

spends a good ten minutes staring at it whilst rubbing her chin as if that’s gonna make it look better

asks you if this was the rough draft

she’s smooth though so she basically tells you she hates it but in a way that you don’t even realise - you’re too busy being seduced to notice

“i love how wild your imagination is babe 😍”

vi keeps the picture and shows jinx; needless to say, this portrait becomes famous

kids all through the lanes have a challenge where they find all the weird faces jinx spray painted everywhere

vi pretends to act dumb as if she doesn’t know how jinx got ahold of them but you both know what happened LMAO

Caitlyn

she laughs in your face

she probably just had an argument with her mum over being an enforcer so she really needed this to lighten her spirits

teases you over it but accepts it gracefully because she’s a kiramman and those manners have been engrained into her

keeps it in her room as a joke and everything’s seemingly ok

except she can’t stop looking at it

and then looking at her reflection in the mirror

starts to question reality because she knows there’s no way she looks like that but if so, why would you draw it in the first place 😭

then she enters the mad stage and she confronts you about this thing called negging she discovered

it’s a loooooong night but don’t worry it ends in lots of laughter and giggles

she understands it wasn’t serious and was just projecting her stress onto the picture

but then this starts a new tradition where you two draw daily doodles of each other; sometimes with stupid faces, other times as animals, whatever you two are feeling really

Mel

the woman was too stunned to speak

no, she’s literally speechless for a good minute or two as you hold it out for her

she eventually takes the portrait from your hands but does it in a way where you’d think it was going to explode the second she touches it

she tries her best to smile and be graceful about it, years of etiquette training being tested but even this is a bit excessive

she finds a way to dodge actually having to tell you it looks bad but also dodges telling you that it looks good too - she’s a lot of things but she’s not a liar 😭

she’s incredibly diplomatic

the very next day she’s introducing you to an absolutely fabulous painter who just happened to make an impromptu visit but has just enough time to run a session (or multiple) with you!

how serendipitous is this!

never again will she receive a portrait from you like hyperpigmentation

Jayce

“oh wow this is for me?”

you handed this to him in the busy academy building in front of SOOO many people and now his face is red

his teeth are gritted, hand rubbing the back of his neck and if you look closely there’s even beads of sweat dripping down his forehead

you’ve got this man stressed out

takes like 20 minutes trying to tell you that he’s not too sure if this is exactly his style

internally he’s crying for help because he just wants to get out of this situation

he loves you don’t get it wrong but this has never happened to him before and it’s not like they’ve got a guidebook on this stuff

eventually admits defeat and accepts the portrait

it’s probably in the break room and although he isn’t particularly fond of it, he won’t stand for anyone saying mean things about what you made

that is until you tell him it was all a joke in the first place and you never thought he would actually accept it considering how shitty it was

yeah, he allowed everyone a ten minute free for all where they could slander the picture after that

he is gonna give you silent treatment for all of an hour before he can’t stand it anymore and he asks you not to pull pranks like that on him again with tears in his eyes 😭

Viktor

viktor is chronically ill AND chronically overworked

gonna be real, he sees the portrait and doesn’t even think anything of it

like, he’s so sleep deprived that he’s constantly squinting and so to him, it low-key looks like him

you even got his beauty mark right too! most people forget that detail!

it’s only after a good few weeks of having the picture on his bedside table and actually, finally, getting eight hours of sleep that he properly looks at the picture and

who the fuck is that

but at this point it’s too late, it’s already in a frame next to the bed you two share and there’s no way he can discretely get rid of it without you noticing

stages an accident where his cane “accidentally” happens to slip and somehow punt the picture frame right out the window with surprising accuracy

he gives you those puppy dog eyes and tells you how sad he is but that he’ll survive so don’t worry!

can’t even feel guilty about the situation because the moment the portrait is gone he stops having nightmares

Silco

another one who is speechless

if you were anyone else, he would’ve berated you so badly you would want to quit by the end of it

unfortunately you’re someone he loves so he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place

the thing is, he really does appreciate that you went through the effort of drawing a picture of him since it reminds him that perhaps his love isn’t as one-sided as he fears

so he really does want to have it framed and put up on his desk so he can stare at it whenever he misses you

the problem is that even though one of his eyes is fucked up he can still see how butt ugly the drawing is

plus the fact that if he has meetings his business associates are gonna see it and that’s gonna be a tough one to explain

rather not lose out of business because his partner decided to be picasso for a day

silco ends up compromising by having you draw a teeny tiny version he keeps in his wallet instead :3

the bigger version stays in a locked compartment of his desk drawer, he doesn’t want to risk sevika seeing it

Vander

vander does NOT care what it looks like, he loves it

you could literally scribble on a page, say “that’s you” and he’s tearing up at your thoughtfulness

it’s going on the fridge asap and it’s staying there too

he’s gonna show it to everyone with such pride in his voice

sure, he doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking at and maybe you drew his body hair a bit liberally but you made it so that’s good enough for him!

when he shows it off, most people say aww what a cute werewolf and ask how old his kid is

the light leaves their eyes when he tells them, chest puffed out, that his fully grown adult partner did it and that it’s actually a portrait of him

whether you made it as a joke or not, expect all of your friends, your friend’s friends, those friend’s friend’s friends…everyone to have seen it

Sevika

sevika tells you it’s ugly straight away <\3

rolls her eyes as she listens to you explain all the reasons why she should like the drawing

she does nawt care

wants to act unbothered but deep down she’s a bit insulted

however she doesn’t like sein you upset so she kisses you to distract you from the fact she hates the drawing

sevika is an incredibly considerate partner so now she knows you like art, she takes it upon herself to buy colouring books and art journals that you two can fill out together

this is how you find out she’s a god at drawing and you find it sweet how she takes you under her wing

if something’s bad she’ll tell you but it will always be constructive criticism and before you know it your portraits actually look decent

she’s smug knowing she helped you get to that point

little do you know she kept your abhorrent portrait of her and she looks at it every so often to see how far you’ve come

she’s a softie deep down

AU!mylo

he says he likes it but that’s just because he wants to hit

also is a bit pretentious so you could hand him a really bad painting and he’ll try and act like he “gets it” even if there’s nothing to get 😭

this WILL make him doubt his looks constantly

he’s confident for sure, more than he should be at times, but now he’s got that image in the back of his head

aura down and now he’s even WORSE at flirting god save this man

will go around asking random people if he looks like the guy in the portrait because he’s not going down without a fight

he needs to beat the allegations one way or another‼️

AU!claggor

genuinely too nice to decline it or say it looks bad

doesn’t know what exactly it’s meant to be even though you already said it’s a portrait of him

too focused on his plants to worry about it too much, it’s just something that makes him chuckle every now and then

he will conduct a mini interview on why you made it look the way it did

he looks all serious as he nods at your answers

deep down he just wants to understand how your brain works

masterlist

761 notes · View notes

aspenmissing · 4 months ago

Note

How about Silco having a biological daughter, who is his pride and joy - And would take care of Jinx like an older sister?

ʜɪꜱ ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴏʏ

ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ x ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ꜰᴇᴀᴛ. ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ, ᴠɪ, ꜰᴇʟɪᴄɪᴀ, ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ, ᴄᴏɴɴᴇʟ) || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 7579 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴇᴅ ᴅʀᴏᴡɴɪɴɢ, ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴀʙᴀɴᴅᴏɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱꜱᴜᴇꜱ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ꜱᴏᴏ…ɪ ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ - ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ. ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ! <3

ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇʟɪɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ (ᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɢᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛɴᴏᴛ) ɪꜱ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴅɪᴄᴇʏ. ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɢᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀᴄᴄᴜʀᴀᴛᴇ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ʙᴀɴɴᴇʀ, ɪꜱ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟɪꜰᴇ (ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴀɢᴇ)

Silco had never thought of fatherhood, let alone imagined how it would change him, but the moment he held Y/N in his arms, his heart softened in a way that was unfamiliar. He had been young, reckless, barely out of his teens, and the fleeting connection he shared with Y/N's mother had left him with a child he hadn’t planned for. The mother had been quick to dismiss the child, leaving her at Silco's doorstep. She wasn’t ready, didn't want to be a mother, and had no interest in raising Y/N.

Vander and Felicia were as much a part of Y/N’s life as he was. Felicia had taken a maternal instinct to her, doting on her niece with the same fierce protection she would as if she was her own flesh and blood. Vander was a steadying presence, a constant, watching over Y/N with gentle care, keeping her away from the dangers of Zaun while Silco found his footing as a father.

As the years passed, Y/N grew under the protective watch of her father, the man who loved her fiercely despite all his flaws. Silco became known for his meticulous nature, ensuring that Y/N had everything she needed, that she was always safe within the walls of his world. While the mines demanded much of his attention, he always made time for her—every smile, every giggle, every moment of pride he took in her filled him with something he couldn’t quite put into words.

Y/N had inherited her father’s sharp wit, her eyes always curious, always calculating. She’d become a striking blend of Silco’s intensity and the kindness she’d received from Vander and Felicia. She didn’t need the affection of others when her father’s love was the foundation of her world.

“Papa,” Y/N would say with a mischievous grin, her little voice carrying the strength of a girl who knew how to get under Silco’s skin, “when will I be old enough to take over?”

Silco would chuckle, his eyes softening at the sight of her. "You already run things around here, Y/N," he’d reply, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "But when the time is right, we’ll see what you’re truly capable of."

Felicia and Vander often played the roles of aunt and uncle to Y/N, but there was no mistaking who her father was. Silco's pride in her was unmistakable, radiating from him in a way that was rare for someone as cold and calculating as he. He would tell her stories of the old days—of how he and Vander had first met, of how Felicia had joined them, and of the nights they spent together in the dim glow of Zaun’s streets.

He spoke of how Vander had opened The Last Drop, a bar that became the heart of their little family. It was there, amidst the haze of smoke and laughter, that they would spend their nights, the three of them and now Y/N, carving out a place in the world amidst the chaos.

Felicia had been the glue that held them all together, the steady hand in a world that often threatened to pull them apart. She had kept the balance when things were at their worst, and Y/N could feel her presence in every corner of the space, even if she wasn't physically there.

Y/N would listen intently, absorbing every word with a hunger that mirrored her father’s own drive. She wasn’t just fascinated by the past—she was determined to carve her own path in the world that Silco had helped shape. She understood the weight of the stories he told her, the battles fought, the losses endured. It all meant something to her, and she knew that the world Silco had built was one that would leave its mark on her too.

Even as Silco shared those stories, there was always the unspoken promise in his words: Y/N was not just part of his past, but his future. And he would ensure that she never faced the same hardships he had, no matter what the world threw at them.

He would often tell her that family was everything, that loyalty was the strongest bond. Silco had made it clear that Y/N was his, no one would dare take her from him, and that anyone who tried would face his wrath.

"Remember, my daughter," Silco would whisper, his hand resting on her shoulder as they watched the city of Zaun below. "You are the legacy that will carry on. Never forget who you are, and never let anyone take that from you."

In the world of shadows and struggle, Y/N was his light, the one thing that would always hold him tethered to something real. She was his pride and joy, and she always would be.

By the time Y/N was 5, her world had expanded with the arrival of Vi, a spirited little girl whose infectious laughter quickly won the hearts of everyone around her. Y/N, who had always been the centre of attention, suddenly found herself stepping into a new role—one that was both unfamiliar and deeply fulfilling: the role of an older sister.

Despite being so young herself, Y/N embraced the responsibility with a natural ease. Her protective instincts kicked in from the moment Vi was born. She would often hover near the baby, watching with fascination as Felicia and Connel took care of her, eager to help in any way she could. Y/N would carefully hand over blankets or toys, always ready to assist, offering the same loving care that Silco had shown her in the years before.

One evening, as Y/N watched Vi in Felicia's arms, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Can I help feed her, Auntie Felicia?" Y/N asked, her voice soft but earnest.

Felicia smiled warmly, nodding. "Of course, sweetheart. She might not drink as much as you did when you were her age, but it's the thought that counts." She handed Y/N a small bottle, and Y/N carefully positioned it, her small hands gently supporting the baby’s head.

Silco stood in the doorway, watching the scene unfold. He couldn’t hide the pride that swelled in his chest as he observed his daughter. He saw in Y/N the same fierce loyalty and strength that had always been a part of him. She was already beginning to take on the role of an older sister with such grace.

He approached quietly, his deep voice low as he spoke to Felicia. “She’s becoming her own, isn’t she?”

Felicia glanced at Y/N, her face soft with affection. “She’s already more than ready for it.”

As Y/N looked up at her father, she caught his eye and smiled, a quiet beam of confidence and love in her expression. Silco gave her a nod of approval, and Y/N felt her heart swell with pride. She didn’t need words to understand what that look meant—she was doing well, and her father was proud of her.

Vi, in turn, looked up to Y/N with a sense of awe. Even at such a young age, Vi could sense the strength in her older sister. Y/N always seemed to know what to do, what Vi needed, even when words weren’t spoken. Whether it was sharing toys or simply holding her hand in times of uncertainty, Y/N was the calm in Vi’s chaotic world.

When Y/N was 8 and Vi was 4, the two of them sat together in the corner of The Last Drop, quietly doodling. Vi looked up at the girl who has became an older sister, her voice full of curiosity. “Y/N, do you think I’ll be as strong as you when I’m older?”

Y/N looked down at her with a gentle smile. “Of course you will, Vi. You’ve already got the strength inside you.” She paused, her eyes softening as she added, “But strength isn’t just about being tough. It’s about knowing when to protect the ones you love, even when it’s hard.”

Vi nodded thoughtfully, a quiet determination in her eyes. She admired Y/N in ways she couldn’t quite put into words, and she wanted nothing more than to be just like her.

As the years passed, their bond only grew stronger. Y/N’s role as an older sister deepened, and it was clear that she was a stabilising force in Vi’s life. While Vander and Felicia were the steadfast pillars of their family, Silco’s pride in Y/N set her apart. He would often tell stories of the past. But it wasn’t just the stories that made Y/N feel important; it was the way Silco spoke of her, the way he saw her as more than just a daughter, but as a leader in her own right.

"Remember, Y/N," Silco would say on quiet evenings, "you’re more than just part of this family. You’re part of something bigger. You’re going to help lead us through this world, just like I did.”

Y/N would nod, her eyes serious and thoughtful. "I’ll do whatever it takes, Dad. I promise."

But as much as Y/N embraced her new role as an older sister, she was still very much Silco’s pride and joy. He often reminded her of how important she was, not just to him, but to their whole family. He would take her aside in the stillness of the night, placing a hand on her shoulder, and tell her, “You are the one who will help guide this family through the storm. You are my strength.”

And Y/N, feeling the weight of her father’s words, would offer him a quiet, determined smile, the weight of the promise she carried already settling deep within her.

Vi, though still young, watched these moments with admiration, taking in everything Y/N did, learning from her. And as they grew, Y/N found herself becoming more than just an older sister. She was a protector, a mentor, and the steady hand that both Vi and their family could rely on.

Silco knew that Y/N was ready to take on whatever came their way, to help guide them through the chaos of their world. And with Vi and now Powder by her side, Y/N was becoming more than just a part of Silco’s past—she was shaping the future of their family, one choice at a time.

By the time Y/N was 9 and Vi was 5, their world had expanded even further. Felicia and Connel had welcomed a new addition to the family—Powder, a tiny bundle of energy with wide eyes and a playful heart. The moment she arrived, Y/N could tell that Powder was different. She was more fragile, more full of wonder, and that made Y/N feel even more protective.

One evening, as Y/N sat by the window, she watched Powder play with a small ball, her concentration intense. Y/N smiled softly and approached her, sitting down beside her. “Need help?” she asked gently.

Powder looked up with wide, innocent eyes. “Can you show me how to throw it like you do?”

Y/N chuckled, nodding. “Alright, first you need to hold it tight, but not too tight. Like this.” She demonstrated, her fingers wrapped around the ball with care. Powder tried to mimic the motion, her small hands trembling slightly as she threw the ball.

“Good try,” Y/N praised, reaching out to catch the ball before it rolled away. “You’ll get it next time.”

Powder beamed, her face lighting up with a mixture of pride and excitement. "I’ll keep practising!"

Y/N’s bond with Vi had already been well established, with the two of them growing close as sisters over the past few years. Y/N was fiercely protective of Vi, always keeping a watchful eye on her, guiding her through the streets of Zaun. But now, with Powder in the mix, Y/N had two younger siblings to care for, and she took to the role with an intensity that surprised even herself.

One day, as they walked through the narrow streets of Zaun, Vi ran ahead, her usual bravado shining through. “Come on, Y/N! Catch me!” she shouted, turning back with a grin.

Y/N glanced down at Powder, who had stopped to inspect a stray cat sitting in an alleyway. “Vi, wait!” she called, her voice stern but not unkind. “I’m watching Powder.”

Vi huffed but stopped and jogged back. “I know, I know. You’re always watching her. I can take care of myself.”

Y/N’s expression softened, though her tone was firm. “I know you can, Vi. But I promised Dad I’d look after you both.”

Vi looked at her sister, her defiance melting away as she sighed. “Alright. But when we get to the Last Drop, you’re definitely sparring with me.”

Y/N chuckled at Vi’s attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re on,” she said with a wink.

While Vi was full of energy and courage, often eager to prove herself, Powder was more reserved, her curiosity outweighing her sense of adventure. Y/N would often find herself pulling Powder into her lap, brushing the younger girl’s hair, and telling her stories of their family’s past. The younger girl loved hearing about Silco’s rise in Zaun, about how the Last Drop had come to be, and about her own uncle and aunt, Vander and Felicia.

Silco watched this new dynamic with a quiet pride. His daughter was becoming a natural leader in their little family. She was gentle but strong, patient but firm—qualities that both surprised and impressed him. As much as he doted on her, Y/N had become a quiet force in their family, a pillar that both Vi and Powder could rely on. He knew the world they were growing up in was dangerous, but watching Y/N care for them, watching her take charge of the little ones, gave him hope for their future.

One night, as Y/N and Silco sat together in the dim light of The Last Drop, he leaned back in his chair, studying her. “You’ve done well with them,” he said quietly, his voice full of pride.

Y/N glanced up, meeting his gaze. “I just want to make sure they’re okay. They look to me, Dad.”

“And they should,” Silco replied. “You’re shaping their futures in ways even I couldn’t have imagined.”

Powder, though small and often shy, seemed to gravitate toward Y/N the most. She would always be the first to seek out her older sister’s comfort, curling up next to her at the end of a long day, seeking reassurance in Y/N’s gentle embrace. The bond between the two was immediate, and Y/N was quick to take on the role of protector, always shielding Powder from the rough edges of their world.

One evening, when Y/N was 12 and Powder was 4, the blue-haired girl clung to Y/N, her face buried in her shoulder. “It’s too loud, Y/N,” she whispered, trembling slightly.

Y/N wrapped her arms around her, pressing her cheek to Powder’s hair. “I know, Powder. I know. But we’re okay. We’ll always be okay.”

Y/N was often the one who would take Powder aside when things became too overwhelming—when the noise of Zaun grew too loud, when the chaos of the streets threatened to swallow them whole. It was Y/N who taught her how to calm herself, how to breathe and focus, how to hold her own in a world that demanded strength. And though Powder was much younger, she began to look up to Y/N in the same way that Vi had.

As they sat together on the rooftop of The Last Drop, Powder spoke up. “I want to be just like you when I grow up, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled, brushing Powder’s hair out of her face. “You can be anything you want to be, Powder. You just have to believe in yourself.”

Vi, though no longer the baby of the family, was still a force to be reckoned with. She and Y/N often played together, their games ranging from sparring practice to exploring the dangerous corners of Zaun. While Y/N was always the steady hand guiding Vi, there was a natural connection between the two that allowed them to push each other, challenge each other, and grow stronger together.

One afternoon, as they sparred in the yard of The Last Drop, Vi (8) smirked at Y/N. “You’re getting slower, Y/N. I might just beat you next time.”

Y/N grinned, her eyes narrowing playfully. “We’ll see about that. You might be fast, but I’m smarter.”

Vi raised an eyebrow, giving a teasing laugh. “Smart, huh? Guess I’ll have to find out if you’re still quicker on your feet!”

But with Powder, the bond was different. It was quieter, slower—built on nurturing and care. Y/N would patiently teach Powder everything she knew, whether it was how to make the best of their tough situation in Zaun or something as simple as tying her shoes.

One day, Powder (4) sighed in frustration, her small hands fumbling as she struggled to tie her shoes. “I can do it myself, Y/N,” she muttered, a hint of impatience in her voice.

Y/N crouched down beside her, her tone soft and patient. “It’s alright, Powder. Let me show you. It’s not about doing it quickly; it’s about doing it right.”

As their little family settled into its new rhythm, with Felicia and Connel juggling the needs of their growing children, Y/N continued to shine as a protector, mentor, and older sister. It was clear to everyone, especially Silco, that his daughter was becoming more than just the girl who had entered his life all those years ago—she was becoming a leader in her own right. Her sense of responsibility was as natural to her as breathing, and the way she cared for her siblings filled him with pride.

One evening, as he stood in the doorway of the room where Y/N was sitting with Vi and Powder, Silco couldn’t help but smile. “You’re doing well, Y/N,” he said, his voice low but full of meaning. “I’ve never been more proud of you.”

Y/N met his gaze, a soft, knowing smile curving at the corners of her lips. “I’m just doing my part, Dad. Just like you taught me.”

Silco’s expression softened, though his pride was clear in the way he looked at her. He didn’t say it often, but in moments like this, it was evident that his daughter had become everything he’d hoped for—and more.

The day everything changed began like any other. The sun hung low in the sky, casting its orange glow over Zaun as Y/N, now thirteen, moved between her responsibilities. Vi was bustling about, her usual energy radiating off her as she practiced her punches, while Powder (5)—still very much the shy and reserved little girl—tugged at Y/N’s sleeve, showing off a new invention she’d made from scrap.

Y/N smiled softly at the younger girl, bending down to meet her eye level. “That’s a good one, Powder. Just make sure it’s not too dangerous,” she teased, her voice gentle. But there was always a little concern behind her words, for she had seen all too well what the streets of Zaun could do to those who weren’t careful.

Vi (9), not far off, shot Y/N a grin. “She’ll blow herself up with it one day. You’ll see.”

Y/N chuckled but couldn’t help the fleeting worry that crossed her mind. “Maybe, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

The world around them felt unusually calm, almost too quiet. Even the streets of Zaun, so often filled with noise and the hum of industry, seemed to hold their breath in anticipation. It was a feeling that Y/N couldn't shake.

"Y/N," came a voice from behind her—Silco’s voice. His tone was colder than usual, a sharp edge in it that caught her attention. "Stay close today."

Y/N turned to face him, eyebrows furrowing. "Why? What's going on?"

Silco’s gaze flickered toward the distance, where the sound of commotion had started to rise in the streets. His jaw tightened, and Y/N could see the weight of the situation on his face, though he hid it well. "Something’s happening. I need you to stay with your sisters."

Before Y/N could ask more, a loud crash echoed through the air, followed by the unmistakable sounds of fighting—shouts, gunfire, the pounding of boots on the cobbled streets. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

“I’ll go check on the situation,” Silco said, his voice steady but commanding, always in control. He looked at her one last time, his expression softer than usual. “Look after them, Y/N. That’s your job now.”

Y/N nodded, the weight of his words sinking in as she looked to Vi and Powder, both of whom had stopped what they were doing, sensing the change in the air.

“Stay close, both of you,” Y/N said, her tone firm, though her heart was pounding in her chest. She wasn’t scared—not yet—but she had seen enough to know that silence could quickly turn to chaos in Zaun. In the distance, she could hear the unmistakable sounds of explosions.

“Y/N…” Powder whispered, her small hands clutching onto Y/N’s sleeve, trembling. Vi, usually full of confidence and energy, was quieter now, her eyes scanning the streets, already preparing herself for whatever might come next.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, her voice a little steadier than she felt. “We’ll be fine.”

But the moments that followed would prove just how wrong that was.

Without warning, the ground beneath them shook violently, sending Y/N and her sisters sprawling to the ground. The chaos erupted all around them—the sound of the explosion coming from the bridge was deafening. Smoke billowed into the sky, and the world felt as though it was coming apart.

Y/N stood quickly, pulling Vi and Powder up. They were disoriented, but she couldn’t afford to lose focus now. Silco’s words echoed in her mind. Look after them. That’s your job now.

“Stay with me,” Y/N ordered, her voice more urgent now.

They rushed through the streets of Zaun, the sounds of distant chaos growing louder with each step. The thick dust from the explosion still clung to the air, making it hard to breathe. Y/N’s heart raced in her chest, her mind filled with the need to find Silco, to find out what had happened. But before she could make sense of it all, they reached the bridge.

The scene before them was nothing like Y/N had ever seen. Bodies littered the floor, the wreckage of the rebellion visible in every direction. And then, through the smoke, she saw him—Vander, standing at the edge of the carnage, his strong frame cast in shadow. His eyes were fixed on something, but he didn’t turn to acknowledge them. He was staring at the ground, his face pale, his expression frozen.

Y/N’s stomach twisted with dread as she followed his gaze. There, lying in a pool of blood, were Felicia and Connel. Their bodies were motionless, their once bright faces now twisted in the horror of what had happened. The realization hit Y/N like a punch to the gut. They were gone.

A cold wave of grief washed over her, but she quickly forced it down. She couldn’t let it take over, not now, not in front of Vi and Powder. They needed her more than ever.

“Y/N,” Vi whispered, her voice breaking the heavy silence as she reached for her sister’s hand. “Is... is that...?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. She couldn’t. Her eyes burned with the weight of what she saw, but her priority was clear. She had to protect them, keep them safe, shield them from the pain that threatened to overwhelm them both.

“No, don’t look,” Y/N said quickly, pulling both Vi and Powder close to her, blocking their view of the scene. She didn’t want them to see it. Not yet. They were too young to understand the full weight of what had happened, too innocent to be exposed to that kind of loss.

Vi’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the bodies on the ground, their faces frozen in the final moments of their lives. For a long, agonising second, time seemed to stand still. Her body went rigid, and then, like a dam breaking, the flood of grief overwhelmed her.

“No! No, no, no...” Vi’s voice cracked as the first sob tore through her, her legs giving way beneath her as she collapsed to the ground.

Y/N’s heart clenched at the sound of Vi’s pain. Without a second thought, she dropped to her knees beside her, pulling the younger girl into her arms, trying to shield her from the sight. She held Vi close, her own tears threatening to spill, but she kept them at bay, focusing entirely on her sister.

“Vi, please,” Y/N whispered urgently, her voice thick with emotion. “Don’t look, okay? It’s not... It’s not the way to remember them.”

Vi's sobs wracked her small frame, her hands clutching at Y/N as though she could hold onto the world through her.

Y/N held her tighter, the weight of the situation sinking in. She looked down to see Powder, her small hands clutching the fabric of Y/N’s shirt, her face pressed into her side, her wide eyes terrified and confused. Powder hadn’t seen it, hadn’t seen the horror that had just shattered their lives. Y/N instinctively shifted, pulling Powder further into her side, blocking her view, keeping her close so that she wouldn't have to see what Vi had.

"Shh, Powder, it’s okay. Don’t look," Y/N murmured, her voice soft but firm. "Stay with me."

Vi’s sobs grew louder, and Y/N squeezed her sister, her throat tight with her own grief. “I’m here. I’m right here, Vi. We’ll get through this. Together.”

The world felt like it was breaking apart around them, the streets of Zaun now deafening with the sounds of the rebellion. But all Y/N could focus on was keeping Vi in her arms, trying to calm her, trying to shelter her from the brutal reality of what they had lost.

From the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Vander. His large frame loomed in the distance, his face unreadable. When their gazes met, there was no need for words. His eyes were filled with the same sorrow that threatened to swallow them all whole. He, too, had lost so much today. But it was clear—he knew what they were going through, and in that look, Y/N saw an unspoken understanding.

Vander walked slowly toward them, his expression softening as he reached them. He didn’t speak at first, just knelt down beside them, his gaze flickering to the bodies of Felicia and Connel before returning to Y/N, Vi, and Powder.

Y/N could feel her heart breaking again as she looked at him, but she didn’t let go of Vi. “We need to go,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “We have to get back to The Last Drop.”

Vander nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll help you, Y/N. We’ll make sure you’re all safe. Come on."

With that, Y/N carefully helped Vi to her feet, her sister’s face pale and streaked with tears. Powder stayed close, holding tightly onto Y/N, her small body trembling.

Y/N didn’t look back at the bridge. She couldn’t. She focused only on the three of them, her sisters, and the promise she had made to keep them safe. The world had shattered around them, but she wouldn’t let the weight of it crush them. Not yet.

A few months had passed since the devastation of the bridge, and while Y/N (14) had tried her best to keep her little family together—holding Vi and Powder close, and keeping them safe—the tension between Silco and Vander had only grown. Their once-solid bond had splintered in the wake of the rebellion, each man pulling in different directions, driven by his own vision for Zaun’s future.

Y/N had heard little of them lately, save for the occasional heated argument that seemed to escalate into silence the moment she was nearby. It was clear to her that things were becoming worse between them. The air was thick with unspoken words, and Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something had to give.

It was late one evening, the streets of Zaun dimly lit by flickering lamps, that Y/N decided she could no longer ignore it. She had to understand what was happening—what had driven them so far apart. So, she set off in search of them, her feet carrying her through the winding streets, her mind racing.

The answers she got were vague, and the path led her to the docks—the shadowed, grimy part of Zaun that no one dared linger in for too long. But there, as she turned a corner, the sound of raised voices hit her ears like a physical blow. She approached cautiously, her breath catching as she saw them.

Vander and Silco. Locked in a vicious struggle.

Vander’s face was a mask of fury, his hands around Silco’s throat, lifting him off the ground. Silco’s eyes burned with a kind of rage that made Y/N’s skin crawl, his hands shoving against Vander’s chest in a desperate attempt to break free.

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest. She knew things had been tense between them, but she had never seen them like this. They were both fighting like they had nothing left to lose.

“Stop!” Y/N shouted, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and frustration. “Please, stop!”

But her words were drowned out by their struggle.

Vander’s grip tightened, and Y/N saw the raw emotion on his face—the grief, the anger, the pain. She knew this fight wasn’t just about Zaun, but about everything they had lost. But Silco wasn’t giving up. With a savage roar, he threw Vander off-balance, and before Y/N could react, Silco swung a nearby barrel at Vander, the impact sending him crashing to the ground.

Y/N’s heart twisted. She wanted to rush in, to stop them, but there was nothing she could do. She was frozen in place, unable to tear her gaze away from the chaos before her.

“You’ve always been weak, Vander,” Silco spat, his voice low and venomous. “You never had the strength to do what was needed.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened. The divide between them was wider than she’d ever realised.

Then, in one swift movement, Vander shoved Silco to the edge of the dock. Before Silco could react, Vander pushed him into the dark, murky waters below, the force of it sending ripples across the surface.

“No!” Y/N cried, her voice breaking as she rushed forward. She could feel her body moving before she even registered the thought, her feet carrying her as fast as they could. She had to stop this. She couldn’t let her father drown.

“Vander, please!” Y/N pleaded, reaching out to him with desperation in her voice. “Don’t do this! You can’t kill him! He’s my father!”

Her words hit the air, but they didn’t seem to reach Vander, who stood there, breath heavy, eyes filled with rage.

Silco’s body sank below the water, and Y/N felt a cold wave of panic rise within her. She had to do something, or she would lose him.

Without thinking, she pulled her dagger from its sheath, a cold, sharp edge that had become all too familiar in her hands. She rushed toward Vander, her heart hammering in her chest, and in one swift motion, she plunged the blade into his arm.

Vander’s reaction was immediate. His grip on Silco loosened, and he staggered back, clutching his wound. The shock of the strike made him recoil, and he released his hold on Silco completely.

“Y/N!” Vander shouted, his voice torn with confusion and pain, but she couldn’t stop.

“You have to stop! Now!” Y/N cried, her voice desperate, frantic. “You can’t do this, Vander. He’s my father!”

Vander looked at her, stunned, his chest heaving. His eyes locked onto hers with disbelief, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze—his anger, his pain, his history with Silco. It all hung in the balance, but Y/N could feel her own heart racing, thudding painfully in her chest. She couldn’t bear to lose him too. Not like this.

With a final, regretful glance at her, Vander turned, bloodied and broken, and fled into the night, leaving behind nothing but the echoes of their shared history, the weight of what they had lost.

Y/N stood there, trembling, her eyes flicking from the spot where Vander had stood to the dark waters below, her heart in pieces. She didn’t know what would come next—how things had changed in this single moment—but she had done what she could.

As Silco slowly regained his footing, Y/N moved closer, the weight of everything crashing down on her. Her hands shook, her breath shallow as she tried to steady herself. Then, without a word, she threw her arms around him, holding him tightly as tears began to spill from her eyes.

“Daddy…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I was so scared. I thought I could have lost you… I thought—”

Her words faltered as the emotions she had been holding back overwhelmed her. Silco, still in shock from everything that had happened, stood frozen for a moment, but then he slowly wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she cried.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, as if trying to soothe her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

But that didn't stop her from crying, the fear and the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on her like a vice. She had almost lost him, and that thought alone was enough to unravel everything she had been holding in.

“I couldn’t lose you, Daddy,” she sobbed, her face buried in his chest. “I just couldn’t. I don’t know what I would do…”

Silco’s hand moved to her back, gently rubbing circles to calm her. The usual coldness in his eyes had softened, replaced by something deeper, something far more complex. He didn’t speak again, simply holding her close, letting her cry, as the moments passed in silence.

Y/N clung to him, her tears slowly starting to subside, and after a long while, she pulled back just enough to look up at him, her face streaked with tears but her eyes softer now.

“Please. Never leave me,” she whispered, her voice steadier but still full of raw emotion.

Silco said nothing in return but gave her a look that spoke volumes. In that brief moment, he didn’t have to say anything—his presence, his care, was enough. They both knew that everything had changed in the blink of an eye. But one thing was certain: she would never let go. And neither would he.

Since that night, things had been different. The air between Y/N and Silco grew heavier, as though they had retreated into their own world, cut off from the rest of the people they had once been so close to. The girls—Vi and Powder—were left with a growing emptiness, their questions unanswered. Every day, they looked for signs of their family, of Y/N, but there was no trace.

Vi, especially, couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. She'd ask Vander, her face tight with worry, but he would only give vague answers, his eyes clouded with unspoken truths.

"Vander, where's Y/N?" she asked one day, frustration and concern pooling in her chest. "What happened? Why haven’t they come back?"

Vander avoided her gaze, his hands gripping the edge of the table as he glanced toward the door, his mind clearly somewhere else. "They're... taking some time," he replied, his voice a little too measured, too carefully neutral. "They’ll be back when they’re ready. They just need space."

Vi wasn’t convinced. She could see the tightness in his jaw, the way he avoided looking her in the eye. And it wasn’t just Y/N and Silco. Something was off with Vander, too—like a part of him had slipped away. But no matter how many times she pushed, Vander never gave her anything more. The silence between them all was deafening.

Powder, on the other hand, kept asking for Y/N every day, her small voice quivering with confusion. She would sit by the door, clutching her favourite toy, waiting for her to return. "Where's Y/N? Why hasn't she come back to play with me?" she would ask, her wide eyes filled with innocence and an unspoken sadness.

Vander would try to comfort her, though the hollow look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t sure what to say anymore. He’d give her a soft pat on the head, brushing aside the question with a gentle, "She'll be back soon. Just be patient."

But the days turned into weeks, and still, Y/N and Silco were nowhere to be found.

Vi grew more restless, her frustration turning into anger. "We deserve to know the truth!" she snapped one evening, throwing her hands up in the air. "Why won’t you tell us what happened? Why did they just leave like that?"

Vander stood there, silent for a moment, his face hardening as he looked at her, and for a split second, Vi thought she saw something like regret flicker across his features. He let out a long, slow breath before responding, his voice quieter than usual.

"I can't tell you everything, Vi," he said, the words hanging heavy in the air. "There are things... things that would make it worse. Y/N and Silco have their own battles to fight now. It's not for us to interfere."

"But they're family!" Vi cried out, her voice shaking with the pain of being left in the dark. "How can you just let them disappear like that? We need them."

Vander’s expression softened, but he didn’t speak for a long time. His eyes went distant, as though he was battling something inside himself. Finally, he sighed, looking down at the ground.

"You don’t understand," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I did what I could. But sometimes, the people we care about have to make their own choices... even if it means leaving us behind."

Vi stared at him, her heart sinking. The words hit her like a punch to the gut. There was no easy answer, no comfort to be found. It felt like Y/N and Silco were slipping away, leaving behind a trail of unanswered questions, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

As the years passed, the tension between Vi, Powder, and the absence of Y/N and Silco only grew. The girls, now older, still felt the void left by their sudden disappearance. The days stretched into months, and the months into years, but the silence between them remained unbroken. With no word from either of them, the two were left to pick up the pieces of their fractured family, struggling to find their place in a world that felt colder and more distant without the presence of those they had once considered family.

At first, Vi and Powder clung to hope, questioning Vander, searching for answers that never came. But as time wore on, the unanswered questions became too painful to bear, and eventually, they stopped asking. The silence between them became a heavy, unspoken understanding. They were learning to live without the people they had once depended on, even though the ache of their absence never fully faded.

Vander, too, was haunted by the absence of Y/N and Silco. Despite his best efforts to keep the small family together, pushing forward with a quiet resolve, he couldn’t shake the regret that gnawed at him. The years had passed, but the weight of what had happened—of what he had done—remained heavy on his shoulders. The gap left by Y/N and Silco was impossible to fill, and no matter how hard Vander tried, he couldn’t erase the sorrow that had settled deep into his bones. He would often find himself staring out into the streets of Zaun, lost in thought, consumed by the guilt of his choices, wondering if things could have turned out differently. What could have been, what should have been, but never was.

The night was heavy with the weight of loss, the air thick with the remnants of destruction. Silco had never been one to show hesitation, but tonight was different. His steps were slower, more deliberate, as he carried Powder through the ruins of their former world. The explosion caused by Powder’s unintentional mistake had torn apart what little was left of their fragile family. Mylo and Claggor were gone, their lives snuffed out in an instant, and Vander... Vander, the man who had been a father to them all, had perished as well. Vi, too, had vanished after her cruel words, calling Powder a Jinx before leaving without a trace.

Silco had found Powder in the wreckage, her tear-streaked face twisted with guilt and fear. She had never meant for it to happen. She never meant to hurt anyone. But the destruction was irreversible, and she was left with nothing but the weight of the label Vi had given her and the loss of everything she had ever known.

"Come on, little one," Silco whispered, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he led her through the darkened streets of Zaun. The girl was quiet now, too exhausted to speak, too broken to resist. Silco had made his choice—there was no turning back now.

He brought her to a small, hidden space deep within the underbelly of Zaun. Silco didn’t say much as he led her through the narrow corridors. He was quiet, but his presence was unmistakable—like a storm waiting to break. And when they reached the small, secluded room, Powder’s breath caught in her throat.

Y/N stood there, now 19, her form still as striking and familiar as ever. She was different, though—hardened, as one might expect after years of separation, yet there was an unmistakable tenderness in her eyes. She had waited, and now, finally, Powder stood before her, as if the universe had decided to tear down the walls that had kept them apart for so long.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Powder simply stared at her, eyes wide, taking in the sight of Y/N as if she couldn’t quite believe she was real. Her throat tightened, the years of pain, confusion, and abandonment flooding back all at once. She had dreamt of this moment, but now that it was here, she didn’t know what to say. There was so much between them, so much lost time, so many questions without answers.

Y/N’s voice finally broke the silence, soft but full of guilt. "I’m sorry," she whispered. "I’m so sorry for leaving you, Powder. I didn’t mean to—"

Powder’s eyes glistened, and she turned her head away, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her. For all the years they had been apart, all the pain she had carried, hearing Y/N’s voice again—it was like being caught in a dream. But the silence stretched between them, heavy with the weight of time.

"You left," Powder’s voice cracked as she spoke, her words coming out in a strangled whisper. "You just left. You... you didn’t say goodbye." Her breath caught, and she shook her head, as though trying to shake the past from her memory, but it was too deeply etched in her heart.

Y/N stepped closer, her heart aching with every word. "I know," she said, her voice trembling. "And I wish, more than anything, that I could have been there for you. I never wanted to leave. But I couldn’t stop it. I’m sorry, Powder."

The room seemed to close in on them, the weight of unspoken feelings settling thickly in the air. Powder looked at Y/N, the girl who had once been her anchor, her sister, and yet now felt like a stranger. Her face crumpled, and the tears she had been holding back for so long spilled over.

Without warning, Powder rushed forward, throwing herself into Y/N’s arms, her sobs wracking her small frame. She clung to Y/N, as if afraid that if she let go, this moment would disappear and she’d be alone again.

"Please," Powder cried, her voice muffled by Y/N’s chest. "Please don’t leave me again. I—" Her words were lost in the desperate, heart-wrenching sobs that shook her body.

Y/N held her tightly, her own tears slipping down her cheeks as she whispered soothingly, "I won’t leave you again, Powder. I won’t. I swear it. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere."

Silco stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. He had witnessed the reunion, the raw emotion that had unfolded before him, and though he wasn’t one for sentiment, even he could see the significance of this moment. It was the beginning of something—something that neither Powder nor Y/N could yet name, but that they both knew was long overdue.

In that quiet moment, as the world outside continued to turn, Y/N and Powder found each other again. And though the past could never be undone, in that room, they had reclaimed a piece of what had been lost.

#Arcane #arcane fandom #arcane fluff #arcane angst #reader insert #Silco's Daughter!Reader #Platonic!Reader #Arcane Silco #Arcane Vander #Powder x Platonic!Reader #jinx x platonic!reader #Vi x Platonic!Reader

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pricesgirl · 5 months ago

Text

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

Y/N

The rest of the world feels so distant from up here.

The detention, the whispers in the hallway, even Mrs. Clark’s endless scolding—they all seem to melt away, insignificant against the vast stretch of sky above.

From this angle, the school below is just a collection of bricks and glass, a model waiting to be dusted off. It's quiet.

Still.

I sit near the edge, my knees pulled close to my chest, fingers fidgeting with the hem of my sleeve. It’s strange, being here, in a way that’s almost... comforting.

"Breathe it in," Jinx says, sprawled across the ledge like she owns the place, arms outstretched, the embodiment of chaotic freedom. Her voice breaks through the stillness, sharp yet oddly soothing. "This is what life’s about, toots."

She tilts her head back, her blue hair catching the dimming light. She looks almost peaceful, which is rare for her.

I glance at her, then at the courtyard below. "I wouldn’t call this freedom," I murmur, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

She turns her head, an eyebrow quirked in challenge. "Oh yeah? What would you call it, then?"

"Perspective," I say, my voice quiet but steady.

For a long moment, she just stares at me, as if she’s weighing the words, before she bursts into laughter. It’s loud and erratic, the kind of sound that shakes the quiet rooftop air.

"God, you’re such a nerd," she manages between giggles.

Ekko, lounging nearby with his arms draped over his knees, lets out a soft chuckle. "She’s got a point, though."

"Of course she does. She’s Y/N," Jinx smirks, sitting up and leaning toward me. "But perspective or not, don’t you think this beats detention?"

I hesitate for a second, eyes flicking from her to Ekko, and back to the horizon. The breeze ruffles my hair, the warmth of the sun still lingering on my skin. "Yeah," I admit softly. "It does."

Jinx flops dramatically onto her back, arms splayed wide like she’s conquering the world. "See? I’m always right. You two should listen to me more often."

Ekko snorts, shaking his head. "Listening to you is how we ended up here in the first place."

Jinx’s grin is completely unbothered. "And look where we are! On top of the world, baby. Way better than sitting in some moldy classroom with Mr. 'I Might Fall Asleep Any Second' Wheeler."

I glance at Ekko, catching the small, fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It’s a side of him I don’t see often—so at ease, so... light.

Miss Daredevil leans back, testing gravity with every inch of her precarious stance, arms outstretched. "Admit it," she singsongs, teasing. "You’re both glad I dragged you up here."

Ekko chuckles softly. "You didn’t drag me anywhere, Jinx. I came up on my own."

"Details, details," she waves him off. "Point is, this is way better than detention."

I let my gaze wander over the courtyard below, the shadows stretching across the pavement as the day fades into evening. "It is better," I whisper, barely audible even to myself.

Jinx lets out a victorious laugh. "Ha! See? I told you. Rooftops fix everything. Bad day? Rooftop. Existential crisis? Rooftop. Stuck with rules you don’t like? Definitely rooftop."

Ekko raises an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips. "So rooftops are your cure for the human condition now?"

"Obviously," she replies with a grin that could rival the sky. "Rooftops and chaos. Works every time."

I let out a soft laugh at that, surprising even myself. It’s not much—a fleeting sound—but it feels good. Light.

Ekko’s gaze shifts to me, his expression softening in a way that makes my chest tighten without warning. "You should laugh more," he says quietly.

I turn to look at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone, before quickly glancing away. "I do laugh," I mumble, my voice barely more than a breath.

"Not enough," he counters, the warmth in his words unexpected.

Jinx snorts, sprawling out on the roof in a dramatic heap. "She’s laughing right now, Boy Savior. Mission accomplished. Now, stop being so sappy. You’re ruining the vibe."

The three of us settle into an easy silence, the kind that doesn’t need to be filled with words. The breeze tugs at my hair, and for the first time in a long while, I let myself relax.

It’s strange, sitting here with them—strange, but... nice.

For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like if things were always like this. No tension, no unsaid things between us, no rules pulling at our edges. Just this.

But then Ekko shifts, and the spell breaks.

“You know,” he begins, his voice light but carrying something deeper, something more careful. "We used to do this kind of stuff all the time."

Jinx groans, dragging the sound out like it physically hurts her. "Oh, come on, can we not do the whole 'good old days' routine?" She flings her arms wide, nearly tipping herself off the ledge with the dramatics. Somehow, she ends up closer to me, her shoulder brushing mine, as if there’s some invisible force that keeps pulling her in.

She leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a teasing drawl. "What’s next, huh? Candlelit storytelling? A heartfelt group hug?"

I duck my head, fidgeting with the hem of my sleeve. "You’re the one who brought us up here. If you wanted to avoid sentimentality, maybe rooftops weren’t the best choice."

Her laugh comes quick, sharp, but there’s something softer in her eyes when she looks at me. "Touché, bookworm. Guess I didn’t think that one through."

She pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and begins rolling something—her fingers moving with a fluidity that suggests this isn’t the first time. It’s a joint.

The sight hits me with a strange familiarity, reminding me of that night by the lake.

It seems like Mary Jane is becoming some kind of tradition when it comes to these quiet, rare moments of reconciliation.

"Here we go," she mutters to herself, finishing the roll and holding the joint up like it’s some prized possession. "One rooftop remedy coming right up."

She lights it, the flame flickering in the wind before she takes a slow, deliberate drag. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, savoring the hit before the smoke escapes, swirling and fading into the afternoon haze.

"You really are a walking contradiction," Ekko comments, raising an eyebrow. "Rooftop philosopher by day, troublemaker by night."

"Obviously," Jinx replies between a few coughs, passing the joint to me with a mischievous grin. "I’m a complex girl, Ekko. Multidimensional."

I take the joint, my fingers brushing hers. It feels oddly natural, like I’ve done this before—like it’s always been this way. I lift it to my lips, and the sharp sting of the smoke hits my lungs before it’s replaced by a warm, mellow feeling that loosens the tightness in my chest.

I exhale slowly, watching the smoke dissolve in the air. There’s a soft relief in it, as if something inside me is finally exhaling too.

"It’s not bad," I murmur, my voice softer than I expect. It feels easy to let go, here. To not hold everything in so tightly.

Jinx watches me with a knowing look, her grin softening for a fraction of a second. She stretches out again, arms wide, claiming the sky like it belongs to her. "Told you, toots," she says gently, her voice almost fond. "Rooftops and joints, they make everything feel a little... better."

I hand it back to her, and she takes it with a nod of approval. I feel lighter now, both in body and mind, the world seeming a little less heavy.

"Guess you were right," I say, a small smile tugging at my lips. "This... this does feel better."

Her smile is small but genuine. "Told ya. You just gotta let go of the bullshit sometimes."

Ekko watches us, his expression softer than before, and I can see something flicker in his eyes. He’s watching us, but he’s also somewhere else, somewhere deeper. "I never thought I’d see the day when you two would agree on something," he says, his voice light but warm.

I turn to him, my smile growing just a little bit, something honest in it now. "It’s not that surprising," I reply. "We’ve always found a way to understand each other. Even when we didn’t know how to say it."

There’s a quiet pause, the kind that doesn’t need to be filled. We’re all here, together, and it feels... right.

Jinx tilts her head back, her eyes scanning the sky, her blue hair rippling in the breeze. "I think you’ve got it, toots. You’re getting it," she says, a quiet pride in her voice. Then, with a teasing grin, she adds, "Still think we’re not rebels?"

I shake my head, my smile turning a little softer. "You’re all rebels," I say, my voice lighter than it’s been in a long time. "I think I’m starting to see why."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

"God fucking thing!"

Who in their infinite wisdom decided these shitty school sinks were a good idea?

They can’t even handle a goddamn eyeshadow palette without sending it skidding into the sink abyss.

Genius design, truly.

And don’t even get me started on the brush situation. I may or may not have sacrificed my one decent makeup brush to the noble cause of lewd caricatures.

But let’s not act like I regret it, okay? Priorities.

The Mary Jane session with my two favorite nerds earlier? Top-tier.

Rooftop philosophy and petty rebellion wrapped in one hazy package. I should charge for that kind of therapy. But here’s the problem—apparently, the second I light up, my makeup decides to pull a Houdini act.

Poof, gone!

My makeup has no loyalty.

None.

Just as I’m about to give up entirely, the bathroom door creaks open, and someone steps in.

"Uh… hi," Y/N’s soft voice cuts through my rant like a whisper in a storm.

I glance up to see her hovering in the doorway, clutching her satchel looking thing like it’s a lifeline.

"Speak of the devil," I say, smirking. "Just the nerd I needed. Come here."

Her eyebrows knit together in that little confused frown she always does. "What for?"

"For science," I deadpan, grabbing her wrist before she can retreat.

She gasps, soft and breathy, and it’s honestly unfair how cute it sounds.

"Or, you know, makeup. Whatever."

"Jinx, I have cheer practice—"

"Yeah, yeah," I cut her off, tugging her toward the sink. "And I have a national crisis happening on my face. Priorities, toots."

She sighs, letting me guide her despite her obvious reluctance. "This is ridiculous."

"Life’s ridiculous," I shoot back, planting her on the counter like she belongs there. "Now sit still and let me work my magic."

Her knees brush against my side, and I can feel her staring at me with those big, cautious eyes like I’m about to steal her soul or something.

Her lashes flutter, and she’s so close I can see every detail—the curve of her cheekbones, the faint freckles dusting her nose, the way her lips part slightly when she breathes.

"This feels unnecessary," she mutters.

"Necessary is boring," I reply, grabbing my eyeliner. "Close your eyes, bookworm, or I’m stabbing them out by accident."

She does, and I swear the way her lips twitch, trying not to smile, might kill me.

I lean in, the tip of the liner dragging a clean, sharp line across her eyelid. "You’ve got good eyes for this," I say, my tone half-teasing.

"Big, doe-eyed, innocent. Perfect for a killer wing."

"I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

"Both," I reply with a grin, stepping back to admire the line before reaching for the shadow.

Her lips twitch.

She’s trying not to smile again.

Fuck.

"You’re surprisingly gentle," she breathes.

"Don’t spread that around," I warn, smirking. "I’ve got a reputation to uphold."

She laughs, quiet and sweet, and it hits me like a sucker punch.

"You’re such a control freak," I tease, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Bet you’re overthinking this right now. What’s running through that little head of yours? Oh no, Jinx might make me look too hot for cheer practice!"

Her cheeks flush pink, and it’s stupidly satisfying. "That’s not—"

"Uh-huh," I cut her off, focusing on the sharp wing I’m crafting. "Don’t even try to lie to me. I can hear your brain overthinking from here."

She huffs, but it’s more of a pout than an actual protest.

"There," I say after a few more strokes, stepping back to admire my handiwork. "Holy shit, I’m good. Look at you."

The pink still lingers faintly in her eyes from the weed, softening the sharpness of her gaze.

But the black eyeliner I just finished framing her eyes?

That’s all sharp angles, precision, a perfect contrast to her usual softness.

She looks—holy shit—stunning.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Her breath catches a little when she sees herself, and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.

“I think I did a damn good job,” I tease, arms crossed as I lean against the counter, watching her soak it all in.

Her eyes flick to me, a small, surprised smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You really did,” she admits, voice quieter than usual, but no less genuine.

She’s staring at herself in the mirror, but it’s like she’s seeing something new. Something she maybe didn’t realize she had.

I move closer, my fingers itching to reach out and adjust a strand of hair that’s fallen out of place, but I stop myself. I don’t want to make it weird.

“You look so pretty,” I say softly, my voice somehow quieter now, too.

It feels like a rare moment where I’m just... being honest.

She glances at me from the mirror, her cheeks flushing a soft pink.

It’s like she’s almost shy, but the way she smiles makes me think she’s more surprised by it than anything.

“I don’t know what to say,” she murmurs, almost self-conscious, but in a way that doesn’t feel awkward.

“You don’t have to say anything.” I nudge her shoulder gently. “Just—go show the world. You’re absolutely killing it.”

Her smile widens, and for a moment, I can see the flicker of that quieter side of her—like she’s letting herself take in the fact that she’s looking really good.

“Thanks, Jinx,” she says softly, her voice warm. “I needed that.”

My grin softens a little. “Anytime, bookworm.”

And I mean it.

Because I know she’s got a lot going on in her head, a lot of layers she keeps hidden.

But for now, in this small, quiet moment, she’s just here, and she’s letting herself enjoy it.

And that’s enough.

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: bit of a shorter chapter today, more of a filler one if anything, hope you like it :)

please like and reblog!

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boredpotate · 6 months ago

Text

Happier Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any music, just this concept idea.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but has unforeseen consequences.

??? Pov

Running. It's all I have on my mind right now. Get away. Get far away from that thing. I can still hear the few people left standing fighting. Shots being fired, screams of pain and a brawl happening. Damn it. This was supposed to be a secure place. The boss said so himself.

I hear as the fighting ends in the distance behind me, but I keep running anyway. Not chancing it. Not with this person. I need to report to Simon and le-

*BANG*

"AAAGH!!!"

An immense and sudden pain shoots through my leg, causing me to fall over onto the ground.

"FUCK! fuck! shit! fuck!" I yell out swears to the skies as I grab my leg onto my leg. I don't have time cope with the fact that I just got shot in the fucking leg, because I know they're coming. I see their silhouette through the smog. One arm raised in my direction and the barrel of a handgun I can't make out facing towards me, and a shovel being held in the other dripping with what is most likely blood. I push through the pain and force myself up to limp myself to an alleyway as they shoot in my direction and use the wall as a support. They're messing with me.

'Why me!? We aren't even in their territory! We made sure of it!,' I continue on and take many turns to try to loose them and holding onto my leg wound to lessen the blood dripping, 'I just need to get to the light. They never come out of this hole.'

I start becoming more aware of the pain as I continue moving, but ignore it to keep my pace steady. Some hope rises as I look back to see nothing, but just as I turn back around I am met with a boot to my chest. I feel the wind get knocked out of me as I hit the ground, my vision dazed from the back of my head being hit as well.

I look up already knowing who it is standing in front of me, but I never thought I'd be one of their victims. Boots, ragged pants, shovel hanging from their hip on one side with a holster on the other side, some dirty jacket with some kind of body armor underneath and an enforcer gas mask with a one of the old miner helmets. Always covering their face. Always a bad omen for any gang that's hunkering down here.

"Please! I do- AAGH!" I yell in pain as they stomp on my wound. I then feel myself be yanked up by my collar before getting slammed into the wall.

"Talk."

"Listen I don't know anything you want! I was only put in charge of that warehouse!"

"Bullshit, that's what the last guy said before he confessed about you. He said you report to your boss and I want to know where he is."

'Of course she does. Another gang leader being tracked down by this crazy bit-.' my thoughts are interrupted by being pistol whipped across my nose.

"Fuck! Please, I really don't know! I only report to a guy named Simon, but he's not the boss! You saw the place I was in; it was hardly secure at all!", I plead to them, hoping for some mercy. They stare at me for a second before letting out a breath of frustration.

I am yanked forward and thrown onto the ground. I flip over and find myself looking up at them as they stand over me; my eyes staring down the barrel.

"NO! PLEASE, I TOLD YOU ALL I KNOW!"

"You want to beg? After all the lives you've taken and ruined ever since you moved into this area? Be happy I don't make it slower."

"WA-"

Then there was nothings.

Reader Pov

'Another fucking dead end.' I think to myself in frustration as I holster my revolver.

I take a minute to finally catch a breather before checking for anything useful on this guy and the others at the warehouse. Once I'm done I decide to go track down this Simon guy next. It's been nothing but this constant cycle for the past eight years.

"At least everything is going good up above. From what I hear at least." I say to myself, trying to look on the bright side of things. Ironic considering how I'm in what is now the shittiest part of the Undercity. It's been awhile since I've left this area, and since I've seen them.

Last time I left, it was to go witness that historic speech on the bridge. They did it. Vander and Silco finally accomplished their dream, and now Zaun has become a better place. So much light and the whole mood of the town is different too. Much more happy. Just like what I dreamt about, but I don't go over there. I can't.

There's enforcers that will most likely think I'm up to something, it's too bright to hide, not crowded enough to blend in anywhere and honestly I just don't really fit in with this new Zaun anymore. Not their fault, it's me that's the problem. Everyone dresses so nice, clean and casual along with how nice the community has become. Then there's me. I look like I crawled out of a dumpster or came back from an apocalypse..... honestly the latter isn't too inaccurate considering what almost happened originally. Probably also the reason why people usually leave me alone and gives me looks sometimes. I look weird compared to everyone else.

Though even with everything I still do my part. Just because most of Zaun has become better doesn't mean there isn't any who didn't like the idea of Piltover and Zaun making peace. Mostly gangs. Since enforcers were able to do their jobs easier the gangs have been pushed down here with me. I've been taking out as many as I could, and nipping the bud of one's that start growing. Especially the one's I knew were aiming for Vander and SIlco. No mercy. Like that one group who tried to recruit me to, I quote "Rebel and takeover Piltover for the true Zuauites." what a bunch of weirdos. Though this most recent one I've been working on is giving me trouble.

They were the only smart one's to stay under the radar when I first started the purge of gangs down here and only recently have been making bigger moves. They aren't too big yet, but if I don't dismantle them they could cause trouble. Turns out that would be harder than I expected. Every time I get pointed to one person, that person points me to someone else and the cycle continues. I'm no detective either, so I'm getting nowhere with the way things are going.

'It's fine. Something will come up eventually,' I try to reassure myself on my way home. It helps a little. Still tired. Kinda hungry too, 'I need to find a way to money.'

Making money the old way wasn't as easy anymore. Not many people that need "jobs" done, and not a lot of people who need to hire a merc for anything anymore. Most of the mercenaries either used their money to leave or joined up with the enforcers for some good and reliable pay with benefits. Can't blame them. Either my line of business is almost dead, or I'm one of the last one's still keeping it alive. Zaun doesn't need mercs like me anymore. That's good.

*stomach grumbles*

*sigh* "I really gotta make more money. Maybe I can pick up some small jobs here and there. Deliver mail to people or something." I reach into my jacket and pull out my journal. I don't write anything in it, but I do draw.

I turn to my most recent sketch and touch up on some details, another one of Jinx. I can't help, but remember. Sometimes I dream of all that happened. I try to put it behind me, but it's hard. They're scarred into my mind, but they remind me why I do this.

"Always stubborn about your hair. Even when I warned you how it can cause trouble in a fight, you insisted." I say to myself as I draw her braided hair. Took forever to braid them, but she loved. Honestly she made them look good.

I smile. Taking a moment to forget about the world and get lost in something else.

'Hopefully this, Simon, has better info.'

3rd Person

Meanwhile above ground across the bridge. A certain investigation in being looked into. With an ongoing interrogation happening.

"Do you really think we're that stupid?" Vi asks the woman sitting across the room from her and her partner. Both in crime and..... other things.

"Yeah."

Vi shoots forward and ready to lunge, but is quickly stopped by Caitlyn who leans into her ear.

"Calm down, Vi. She wants you to get upset." she says while holding onto one of Vi's shoulders to comfort her. Though she does understand her frustration.

Ever since they've been looking into a recently bold gang, they've hardly gotten anywhere. She takes a moment to make sure Vi has calmed down before turning back to the woman in questioning.

"I understand that you have no reason to help us, bu-."

"No shit. I get thrown behind bars and then pulled out for questioning about a gang, I'm not even a part of."

"But. We really need something here. If you cooperate we could negotiate with reducing your sentencing. Your records show you have been improving and haven't caused trouble, but we can only do that if you work with us." Caitlyn explains, trying to negotiate some kind of deal for some information.

The woman slightly relaxes before shaking her head with a sigh.

"Listen girl, I told you before. I really don't know anything about this gang. All I know is what I told you. They used to be small and kept to themselves and they've grown."

Caitlyn scowls, not at the woman, but down at the table in front of her. Another dead end.

"But.... you could try asking the hound." the woman suggests, which catches Caitlyn's attention, but Vi scoffs.

"We already asked my dad. He's not really involved with that stuff anymore, and his contacts have been out of that kind of business for awhile."

"Not Vander. The new one down in the deep end of the Undercity." this catches Vi's interest now.

"A new hound? Let me guess, another wannabe big shot?"

"No. This one's the real deal. Has been making a name for themselves for a few years now. Ever since most of the gangs got pushed back down deep into the Undercity; ever wondered what happened to all those old gangs eight years ago? Bloodhound took them out one by one." the woman explains, her tone lined with admiration and respect. Caitlyn raises a brow at the name.

"Bloodhound?"

"That's what people call them. No one I've met knows their name or has seen their face."

With things moving in a good direction, Vi sits down next to Caitlyn at the table.

"I assumed all the gangs just died out after peace was made. So what? They some gang leader or something?"

"No, but they do have a small territory. All to themselves. They got a lot of respect down there. You remember that weird group two years ago? Dressed all rugged and called themselves "True Zaunites"? They idolized Bloodhound; tried to dress like them too. Then one day they went into their territory and tried make them their leader, but ended up coming back beaten black and blue. The guy who was leading the group got a bullet through his skull."

Caitlyn looks skeptical and glances at Vi, who also looks to have some doubt about this "Bloodhound". The inmate notices and shrugs her shoulders.

"I know, sounds weird but it's true. The point is, they hunt down gangs. You want someone with info, then try them."

"How do we contact them?"

"I don't know. Last people who tried was that weird group. Now a lot of 'em are too scared to go back down there."

This brings some, not a lot, but some hope to Vi and Caitlyn to this investigation. Better than nothing. Caitlyn stands up before holding out a hand towards the inmate.

"Thank you for your time and the information. I'll be sure to put in a good word for your cooperation, maybe even get you on probation."

"No problem. Not like I had a choice in coming here. You better not be bullshitting me about that deal." the inmate says as she takes Caitlyn's hand.

Caitlyn nods before turning around to leave, Vi already holding the door open for her. Caitlyn wordlessly signals the two enforcers standing outside to escort the inmate back to her cell before walking with Vi.

"So this "Bloodhound", you think they're legit?"

"I don't know. But we don't have any other leads on this case. My mother trusted us with this case Vi, we can't just give up." Caitlyn says with hints of frustration in her voice.

"Hey, I'm not saying we give up, Cupcake. I was just wanting to hear your thoughts."

"I-I know. I'm sorry. It's just, I don't wan-."

"AH. You don't need to apologize Cupcake. I get it. Don't wanna disappoint parents, trust me, I understand," Vi says reassuringly which makes Cait stop, "What?"

"I love you." she says with a smile before giving Vi a peck on the cheek, making said Pink haired girl blush like a tomato.

"I-I love you too, Cupcake. .....Ahem a-anyway, I don't know if going to find this guy will work. I was thinking maybe we could go see my dad instead. He might know someone who can get in touch with this guy. Plus, I think he'd like to know that there's another "Hound" in the Undercity." Vi says as she wraps an arm around Caitlyn's shoulders to hold her close.

"That sounds nice."

Powder Pov

"So you want me to see if I can get someone to talk to this guy that you two need to talk to."

"I know. It sounds sketchy, bu-." Vi was saying until Benzo cuts in.

"Are ye kidding!? Vander! We gotta see this kid. Running around using your title; they must be a fan! How have I not heard of this guy before!?" Benzo says, poking fun at dad since apparently he has some copycat or something.

"I second that!" Mylo says, making Claggor shake his head with a chuckle.

Dad rolls his eyes, but still has a smile on his face.

"Technically not the same. They're called "Bloodhound"." Cait says, but slight smirk still on her face with Vi wearing one to match.

'Might as well join in on the fun.'

"I don't know if that's a good idea. They might want his autograph." I say with my own cheeky smirk. Leaning into Ekko, as he writes in his book of projects, sitting at the bar with everyone.

"Alright, alright. I get it. I might have some people who still owe me a favor or two," Dad says, as he wipes down a glass behind the bar, "One condition. They gotta meet you two here."

"YES!" Benzo yells in elation, but Vi doesn't look that happy.

"Here!? Dad seriously this person could cause trouble and this place isn't like that anymore." Vi says, but Dad doesn't look like he's budging.

"I'm being serious too. I've heard stuff hear and there about them and I don't want you two going down there alone. I know you two can handle yourselves, but if anything I've heard is somewhat true then this isn't like any other thug or gang leader." Dad says, which makes Vi back down.

'Damn. Now I'm interested.'

"Are you sure they would even come here?" Caitlyn asks a pretty reasonable question.

"Pretty sure. From what I hear they've been getting into shootouts with the gang recently. Probably hunting them down too."

"That isn't a guarantee though. What if they don't show up?"

"If they don't then show up, then they don't show up. They wouldn't have been help even if you went down looking for them, you'd probably just gonna end up in a fight."

'Fair point, honestly.'

Cait looks to Vi, who sighs as a sign of surrendering.

"Fine. How soon can you get someone to talk to them?"

"Today."

Cait looks surprised which makes Dad shrug.

"I got good contacts."

"Good. I guess tomorrow in the afternoon? Does that sound fine?" Vi asks, looking at Cait for confirmation which she gets via a nod.

As the conversation shifts to something else, I look at Ekko as he continues to scribble in his notebook.

"What do you think?" I ask him which makes him stop writing for a second.

"About "Bloodhound"," he asks and I give a simple nod, "Sounds a little fishy. Sounds like one of those people still stuck in the old times of crime everywhere."

"It doesn't sound like they are. They did supposedly take out that one weird group of "True Zaunites"; honestly those people were so stupid." I say with a small laugh, Ekko chuckling a little at the mention of that bizarre group of people.

'The speeches those guys made in the streets were insane.'

"Still, doesn't sound like good company. Why would they want to stay in the deep part of the Undercity? Zaun has become so much better over the years."

"Maybe..... they're afraid to move forward. Don't wanna lose what they have now." I say, honestly projecting more about myself than what I actually think.

'They could just be a psycho.'

I feel Ekko's arm come up to my waist before pulling me in closer as he sets down his pencil.

"Powder. I know it's not easy, but I really do think you could do a lot of amazing things. I know you're afraid of things changing, but..... sometimes taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind."

"I-I just.... I don't know. I just need some time to think about it." I say, avoiding the topic of what I want to do in life, looking away just staring at the details of the bar counter.

"Okay..... just know I'm here for you Powder. Nothing will change that." Ekko says, supporting and sweet as always, which makes me smile.

"Thanks." I say before giving a small kiss on the cheek.

"No thanks needed."

We sit at the bar in a comfortable silence as my mind wanders.

'Tomorrow should be an interesting day.'

The Next Day.

Deep in the Undercity the infamous Bloodhound stands in the middle of the street, farther than usual from their territory. What is usually a busy street is now completely empty with only Y/n standing there by herself, and facing towards the brighter side of Zaun.

People peak out from their homes through blinds. People who looked like they were about to step outside immediately turn around to lock themselves inside. Others who were making there way down the street immediately turns right around to take a detour around.

All of them had the same questions on their minds.

Why are they here? What are they up to? Is a fight about to happen? Is someone about to die? Are the meeting up with someone here?

.....Also why are they just standing in the middle of the street?

Reader Pov

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit! This is, SO! FUCKING! BAD!', I internally panic as I stand in the middle of the street.

Yesterday right after getting some intel from that Simon guy I got a message from some guy. Literally right after. I just tackled that fucker out of the second floor of his shitty bar when he tried stabbing me after getting information out of him. Then I turned and there they were. Staring in shock. Anyway that doesn't matter.

What really matters is the fact that Vander wanted me to come to The Last Drop. I couldn't even ask why because before I could they ran away.

'Why!? What did I do!? Am I in trouble!? I didn't even do anything!'

I'm not supposed to meet them, but how am I supposed to ignore a call from Vander. From Dad. So I forced myself out of bed and I only made it this far before getting too scared. I feel rooted to the ground. I'm scared. I'm scared to see them after so long, even if it's just to talk or something.

"What if I mess this all up?," I ask myself. Trying to decide whether or not it's worth risking all of the good things that have happened to Zaun over the years, "What if I cause a butterfly effect and ruin everything?"

But then there's that other part of me. Desperate and longing to see how my family has been after so long of isolating myself down here alone.

I stand still in contemplation for another minute before finally taking a step forward.

"One time couldn't hurt. Just this once."

Hope you enjoyed. Sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

#yandere arcane #yandere arcane x reader #arcane au #yandere claggor #yandere ekko #yandere mylo #yandere powder #yandere silco #yandere vander #yandere vi #platonic yandere #yandere timebomb

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v1sexual · 6 months ago

Note

another actor au where reader gets injured on set and ofc the others being worried af ☹️ (vi and caitlyn being the most worried 🫶)

sticks and stones ; caitvi x reader

note : omg my first ask yay! anyways, i just wanted to say how much i love this omg. just imagine, caitvi fussing over you, giving you the princess treatment *explodes* this is lowkey poorly written tho, it's my first time writing with two love interests. i mean i could have made it platonic but where's the fun in that.

content warning : blood, minor injuries, swearing,

“cut! get the medics in here right now!”

you had no idea how this happened. a second ago, you were literally in the middle of acting a scene out with ekko in the firelight hideout. next thing you know, you twisted an ankle and fell 10-15 feet to the ground. thankfully, the leaves and branches from the tree (of the firelight hideout) broke your fall, leaving you with a few scrapes, bruises, and possibly a broken ankle.

when vi saw your body hit the cold hard floor she bolted, shouting for someone to get any medical professionals on the set. it took cait a couple of seconds to register what just happened, when it finally dawned on her she immediately followed vi. if people didn’t take notice that something was going on between the three of you, well… they’d probably notice it now. vi kneeled beside you, her hands cupped your cheek gently as she checked your head for any injury. thankfully, you only had a couple of cuts on your cheek and nothing too serious (you also may or may not have a small bump on your head that can be taken care of with some nice cold compress).

“is she okay?” cait exclaimed, she was out of breath and was ready to dial 911. before vi could answer, the medical team finally arrived. they ushered cait, vi, and your cast mates away as they loaded you on the stretcher and into the make-shift clinic tent on set.

it’s been almost an hour since vi and cait camped out of the tent. the two were practically about to explode, they were just so worried about you. the fact that it’s been an hour and still no news about you and how you’re doing concerns them. when the doctor examining you finally exited the tent (and quite literally almost bumped into them), they wasted no time bombarding the doctor about your condition.

“she’s doing fine ladies,” the doctor smiled. “just a couple of scratches, a bruise here and there, and a sprained ankle.”

vi’s face fell and cait was practically chewing nails.

“how long will it take for her to recover?’ cait asked worriedly.

the doctor gave her shoulder a pat, “it’ll take two to three weeks for the ankle to heal. then another week for her to get used to walking on it again.”

“how should we treat the ankle? does it need cold or hard compress?” vi demanded, poor girl was stressing the fuck out.

“use a cold compress for a week or until the swelling has gone down, then hot compress to help with blood flow. elevating the sprained ankle helps minimize the pain as well.” the doctor added before heading out, leaving the two girls to enter the tent.

watching the scene unfold was ekko and powder. they hung out beside a food truck next to the medical tent, fully overhearing the conversation that just unfold. “i sure hope (name)’s doing alright.” powder murmured, resting her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. ekko nodded in response, “i sure hope so. i imagine dealing with those too will be much more painful than dealing with the sprain.”

powder let’s out a laugh and shook her head. “ekko! that’s so mean.”

“it’s true though,” ekko shrugged then rested his head on powder’s. “i swear, those three have a weird relationship.’

“we listen, we don’t judge ekko.”

when the doctor left the tent to give you some privacy, you almost burst into tears. the cuts didn’t hurt, the bruises didn’t hurt, and the sprain was bearable. it’s the fact that filming will have to be pushed back a bit due to your sprain. you wouldn’t be able to stand on that foot at all until it heals, the doctor already made a note that you need at least a month and a half to fully recover. the director and producers weren’t pleased, but they did understand and didn’t want to push you since you are one of the most hardworking actors on set.

the tent flap rustled open, pulling you away from your thoughts. caitlyn and vi entered the tent, both had worried looks on their faces. they sat on opposite sides of the stretcher where you laid.

"how are you feeling?" cait asked, taking your hand and holding it. you sighed and shrugged. you didn't want to talk, especially to vi and caitlyn. you just know that the moment you open your mouth the dam will break, you already feel sorry for yourself and crying will make it worse.

"cupcake," vi said as she cupped your face in her hand. she tilted your head to look at her. "you know you can tell us anything right?"

you closed your eyes as you leaned into vi's touch, your hand gripping caitlyn's a little bit tighter. "i just- if i talk about it i'll cry and it'll make feel worse." your voice sounded so small and hurt, it made cait and vi's heart ache.

cait pressed a kiss to your hand, "if you don't want to talk we won't force you, but you need to let it all out eventually. bottling your feelings isn't healthy at all." vi nods in agreement, she squeezed your cheeks before bending down to press a kiss on your forehead. "if you need to cry, cry. you have our shoulders to cry on, cupcake."

you closed your eyes and let the tears fall.

caitlyn and vi stayed true to their words, they comforted you and stayed in the tent until they were kicked out by the producers. when you were finally alone, a smile adorned your lips. your girlfriends were right, letting it all out did make you feel ten times better.

after today's shooting was done, caitlyn and vi took you home. cait went ahead and started cooking dinner while vi carried you to your room, making sure your foot was elevated. for the next month and a half, they barely left your side (unless they were needed for filming). they never let you do anything, you were basically confined to your room. as much as you hated being useless, your protests were ignored by cait and vi. it didn't matter though, at least you're ankle is almost healed and being babied by your girlfriends felt good anyways.

note : well that sucked LMAOOOO sorry anon

#vi x reader #vi arcane x reader #arcane #arcane act three #vi arcane #jinx arcane #arcane smut #violet arcane #caitlyn kiramman #arcane season 2 #caitlyn arcane #caitvi #caitlyn x reader #vi x caitlyn #caitvi x reader #wlw yearning #wlw post #wlw x reader #wlw blog

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jinxedbychaos · 8 months ago

Text

Echoes of Insanity Ch. 2

Bound by Chaos

No summary as I'm not good with those

Jinx (Powder) x Twin sister

Past-

Playing by the canals of Zaun, I chase after Powder, her laughter coming out as she zigzag around me, trying to stay just out of reach. The clouded water glistens in the dull light, the distant sound of Zaun's factories a familiar sound in our daily lives. Vi sits on a rock nearby, her eyes never leaving us, a small smile on her face as she observes.

vi's in charge while our parents are at work, and even though she tries to put a tough front, she cares about keeping us safe.

Suddenly, Powder darts behind me, determined to catch up to me. I try to run faster, but my foot catches on a rock hidden in the dirt. making me fall to the ground. pain stings through my knees as I land hard, scraping them raw. tears start to fall off my eyes, and I can't help but let out a chocked sob.

Powder gasps, immediately scared that she might have hurt me. "Ash! I-I didn't mean to, I was just tryin to catch you!" She speaks in a shaky, panicked voice.

Vi already besides us "It's okay, Pow. Accidents happen" Vi says, glancing at her, then back at me with a reassuring smile. "besides some scraped knees wont stop Ash, right Ash?"

you sniffle, wiping away the tears and nodding slowly. Vi grabs a piece of tissue out of her pocket an gently starts cleaning the blood off my knees. She leans in blowing some air on the scrapes like our mom does when we get hurt. "See? all better".

Powder shuffles closer, still looking guilty. She reaches for my hand, her lip quivering. "I'm sorry, Asha. I didn't mean to…" Her eyes shiny with unshed tears, and i can see how guilty she feels.

i squeeze her hand, giving her a small, watery smile. "I-it's okay , powder" I mumble, trying to reassure her. feeling a little more steady now that Vi's taken care of me.

Vi stands and offers her hand to us. "come on, why don't we go home. I'll teach you a new game on the way" she says with a smile, her tone light, trying to lift our spirits.

I grab her hand, already feeling the excitement bubbling inside me at the thought of learning something new from Vi, Powder clings to the other hand.

The scrape on my knee long forgotten, as I follow my sisters, even in the bad times, being together makes everything feel just right again. Vi squeezes our hands, pulling us gently along, and I can't help but feel safe and loved, all the pain fading away under the warmth of their presence.

---------------

Present-

Vi uncovers a large garbage pipe hidden in the ground and quickly scans the area for enforcers.

"Oh, man, not again! I just got this shirt-" Mylo whines, but he's cut off as Vi shoves him into the pipe with a swif kick. Claggor follows, then Powder and me, with Vi coming last.

We slide through the dirty, narrow pipe, letting out startled yelps as we descend. At the end, we tumble into a pile of garbage in an underground disposal area.

"Thought last time was the last time we were gonna do this." Mylo grumbles, pulling a piece of trash out of his hair.

"Well, this time's the last time." Vi replies

"Guys, what was that? What the hell happened back there?" Claggor ask, still looking a bit shaken.

everyone suddenly turn to face powder and me. surprised by the accusation, we both try to defend ourselves.

"We didn't do anything!" Powder blurts out. "We didn't touch anything!" I quickly add.

"you could fill a damn library with all the things you didn't do" Mylo snaps, glaring at us.

Just as I'm about to fire back, Vi cuts in.

"Guys, we just emptied a Piltover penthouse right under the enforcers' noses" She climb out the pile of garbage "so, if you're done beating yourselves up, let's get this home"

We walk thtough the dimly lit disposal area until we find a trapdoor in the ceiling Vi drags some boxes with the help of Claggor an climb up, pushing the door open. she helps Powder and me out first, Then follows.

We step out onto the streets of Zaun, unaware of the two boys following us. As we pass by a boy casually rolling a barrel back and forth with his foot, he smirks. "nice haul?" he asks.

"you could say that" Mylo replies, looking smug.

Vi shoot Mylo a disapproving glare.

"I heard there was some action across the river" the boy continues, flipping a coin between his fingers.

"is that so?" Vi replies, about to move on, but two boys suddenly appear in front of us, blocking the way.

"But now you're, you're tracking this mess of yours through my streets." the boy says

"your streets? what makes you think-" Vi starts to snap, but Claggor quickly interrupts

"listen, we don't want any trouble, okay?" Claggor says, trying to defuse the situation.

One of the boys smirks "hear that, Deckard? They don't want any trouble."

"you know, in my experience trouble finds you" Deckard say, signaling toward Vi. "There's no reason this has to get ugly. How about you share a little taste of your treasure there, and we'll call it even?"

"No, no, no We worked to hard to-" Mylo starts, but Vi cuts him off, placing a hand on his shoulder before stepping forward to face Deckard.

Taking the bag off her shoulder, Vi asks "just a taste?"

"just a taste-" Deckard begins, but before he can finish, Vi swing the bag into his face, knocking him to the ground.

I jump, startled, and I can feel Powder do the same. suddenly, Vi tosses the bag at us, Powder grabbing it.

"huh" Mylo and Claggor grunt in unison, snapping into action and getting ready to fight.

Deckard groans and pushes himself up, his expression turning fierce. one of his friends rushes to Mylo, shoving him to the ground and starts landing punches.

Powder and I watch in shock, taking a few steps back, trying to distance ourselves from the chaos.

Claggor quickly moves in, shoving the boy off Mylo, but on the other side, deckard lunges at Vi, throwing wild punches. She fights back, each hit landing with brutal force.

Powder and I stand frozen, watching in horror as the fight unfolds. I see Powder fall to the ground, sitting back in fear.

Claggor punches one of the man in the face, throwing him back. he crashes to the ground right in front of us, his eyes locking onto ours and then the bag. Panic floods through me, and I grab Powder's arm "Run" I shout. Powders puts the bag around her and we run down an alley, the thug chasing after us.

back in the street, Vi, Claggor and Mylo are still fighting. unaware that we've taken off. Vi manages to knock Deckard to the ground, while Claggor is shoved against a wall. He grabs a handful of dirt and throws it to the face of the thug. The boy stumbles, and Claggor takes the opportunity to bring him down.

Meanwhile, Mylo is struggling beneath another thug, taking punch after punch. Vi rushes to his aid, grabbing a wooden plank and smashing it over the guy's head, knocking him out cold. the three of them stand, bruised but victorious, ready to leave the scene.

As they begin to walk away, Deckard, clutching his side, stumbles to his feet and pulls out a knife. "wait!" he says in pain.

Vi turns around, stepping closer to him. she leans down, staring him dead in the eyes. "wanna se how that ends?" she asks, her voice low and dangerous.

Deckard meets her gaze but says nothing, staggering back as he decides against pushing further.

Vi straightens up and glances around, realizing something "Where's Powder and Ash?" she asks her voice tense.

Meanwhile, Powder and I sprint through the narrow alley, not daring to look back, our breath coming in ragged gasps as we keep running, fear driving us forward.

We threw some crates in the way, desperately trying to slow the boy chasing us. "Oh! You little…" he grunted as he stumbled but kept running.

We darted through the cluttered alley, our breath heavy and frantic. When we reached a dead end blocked by boxes, we quickly hide behind a wall, trying to quiet our panting. Powder clutched the bag tightly, just we it seems like the boy might turn the other way. we accidentally knocked over a wooden plank.

"No, no, no, no!" I whispered, trying to grab the plank before it fell but it hit the ground with a loud bang.

Making the boy tur toward the noise.

Panic flooded me as I searched for any scape. Powder, clutching Mouser, quickly started loading it with nails, her hand shaking. A few nails falling to the ground. "Come on, Mouser, I need you!" she whispered urgently, her voice trembling.

I glance back at her, heart pounding, as she throws Mouser toward the boy's feet. We both held our breath, watching, hopping for a miracle. The parts turning and clicking together… then pink smoke burst out with a small pop.

disbelief crossing our face as the makeshift bomb failed. The boy smirked and started walking toward us, his eyes locked onto the bag.

We back away scared, our backs hitting the railing. In a split second decision, I unclipped the bag from Powder and I throw it into the river, the boy goes to grab it but fails and watches as the bag sinks.

As the boy is distracted, I grab my sister's hand and we bolted, weaving through the alleys, running as fast as we could until we finally reached the meeting spot. Vi, Claggor and Mylo were already waiting for us.

"Powder! Ash!" Vi called out when she saw us, and we ran straight to into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"Where's the bag?" Mylo ask, looking around, concern quickly filling his face as he realized it wasn't with us. Vi glanced at us too, frowning.

Still catching my breath, I stutter "He… he was following us" "He was going to catch us." Powder ads.

"I-i threw it into the river." i say with guilt.

"You did what?!" Mylo yelled, his frustration boiling over.

"we're sorry" Powder and I say in unison, both of us felling the weight of our mistake. Powder looked down, her voice small as she speaks "I tried to stop him with Mouser, but… it didn't work."

"Who saw that coming?" Mylo shots back, putting his arm up.

"doesn't matter. The stuff's gone" Vi interrupted "at least least you two are okay" she said softly, putting a hand on our shoulders.

Vi walks over to the building's door and pushes it open.

"Okay? what about us?" Mylo complained. "I get my face bashed in, and the just get a pass?" He continues as well all stepped inside.

"yup" Vi replies flatly, closing the door behind us.

We crowded into the old elevator. Vi lowered the lever, turning the flickering lights on as we began our descent into the Undercity.

Powder and I leaned against the railing, the weight of guilt heavy on our shoulders. Mylo still fuming.

"Every time" Mylo grumbled, glaring at us "Every time they come, something goes wrong." he pointed at our direction "They just jinx every job"

Powder and I are about to defend ourselves when Vi cuts in.

"Just drop it Mylo" Vi says, starring straight ahead as the elevator slower to a stop. The doors cracked open, and she pulled her hood up, stepping out into the streets of the Undercity.

We follow her, weaving through the crowded streets filled with vendors and people. At one of the stalls, Mylo steals some fruit from a sleeping merchant, stuffing it into his pocket with a smirk.

we continued down the streets until we reached The Last Drop. without a word Vi pushes the door open, and we all slipped inside.

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Ch. 1 - Ch. 3

There should be another chapter by Sunday.

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