#The COMET WINES | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

give-some-lemons · 2 months ago

Text

“Accidents happen”

Pregnancy headcanons with Silco

Tags: pregnancy; unplanned pregnancy; older man/younger woman; topside reader.

~ when you first met him it was an interesting and pleasant surprise for you to finally see how the famous and so fearful Eye of Zaun looked like. A man who aged like the most expensive wine from your family’s collection with a sharp features, a few grey strands in his hair and, of course, a red eye, which you could compare to a comet drifting in a night sky.

~ everything about him was nothing like you expected it to be — his clothes, behavior, manner of speaking was more similar to a topside one and that… intrigued. A man who hates Piltover and its citizens but wants to live and look like them? You let an evil chuckle out, while he pressed his scarred lips to the back of your hand.

~ for him you were an exotic exemplar, a topside aristocrat who’s father was probably his age, but despite that fact you were still showing interest in him, keeping your sight on his face and body much longer than etiquette allows, saying ambiguous things that a young lady of your status should not even think about, trying to get under his skin.

~ at the late nights he dreamed about those gaze looking at him from the bottom up, those lips on the most intimate parts of his body and this silk hair in his hand while he guides you in a way he needs the most. You were driving him insane, leaving him without any thought except the sinful ones where lust was completely taking control of him

~ it was only a couple of nights between two of you, when your fingers that ran along his shoulder or chest was turning a peaceful evening into an act of passion and pleasures. When his previous meeting was so unsuccessful that the next second you walked in his office you were finding yourself on his desk with his lips on the soft skin of your neck. When you felt an arousal blooming in your lower abdomen just because of the way his fingers moved through his hair or loosening his tie.

~ you loved teasing him especially in the most inappropriate places like his office, filled with people who came for business reasons, and then watch how he slowly succumbs to his lustful desires, making every possible effort for the meeting to be over as quickly as possible. After his partners left the room, you were literally thrown onto a nearby sofa with his slender posture looming over you and his teeth biting into the softness of your skin.

~ after some time, there were certain signals that you wished to ignore: weakness throughout your body, feelings of nausea at the most inconvenient times of the day and mild, barely noticeable pains in the lower abdomen. You were scared, more to say terrified by the fact that a tiny life was already growing inside of you.

~ sitting in his office and discussing another topic, related to your family business you could feel his hand caressing and squeezing your thigh wanting nothing more than to take you right there, leaving all of the stress he had during the day behind and forgetting himself in the softness of your skin. That’s exactly the time when you tell him about the consequences of your passionate nights that already came to life.

~ at first he freezes, studying you with his piercing gaze, most likely searching for any signs of deceit or the most terrible joke he's ever heard in his life. Covered with a mask of indifference, that he mastered for a lot of years deep inside he’s shocked, in the greatest disbelief that it’s even possible in his age. Only when the man lightened a cigarette and inhaled the soothing smoke into his lungs, he broke a heavy silence with his hoarse voice.

— Are… you sure?

A young woman in front of him sighs slightly raising her eyebrows in annoyance, as she always did.

— I called a doctor this morning, how do you think?

An older man emits another puff of smoke with a dark chuckle. Raising a child he doesn’t even wanted with a woman he had in his bed a few times was not something he planned to, especially knowing how hard it is. He already has a kid, a stubborn young woman who he loves with all his heart and he really wishes to just shrug, leaving aristocrat at fate’s will along with his seed growing inside of her, but he hesitates for a split of second.

— What are you planning to do?

She nervously purses her lips into a thin line trying her best not to lose her face, her confidence before him even tho a man can tell the truth just by how her body language changed. She was frightened. An heir of a noble family, an arrogant piltie and a young girl who’s future was brighter than the sky over her head is now sitting with a head of the biggest criminal organization, who probably was suitable for her as a father discussing his child in her belly.

— I’ll keep it.

Of course, what else she could say now, when there’s not so much options left for her. Deep down she probably knows the answer to her own question — he will not help, she’s on her own now and it feels as if the whole world had fallen with an unbearable weight on her shoulders.

— I’ll take care of everything you’ll need.

She finally raised her gaze to the man across from her after a long starring at a smoldering ashes in a bright painted ashtray. Despite that her face didn’t show any emotion her heart skipped a beat fulfilling chest with warmth.

~ in the next days he already was in your family’s mansion talking with your parents about your current situation and you could see that judging look on their faces, mentally returning in those times when you was a little guilty kid who broke something or get a complaint from your teacher. At first they even tried to completely ignore your whole existence without saying a word or giving any glance at your side, but it seems like over time they reconciled with the idea that in a short amount of time they’ll become grandparents.

~ you both reach an agreement that you better to stay in Piltover, to not let rumors spread all over the undercity and to interfere his enemies to use you in their hatred and plans about him. That was the motive of why you needed to stop paying him visits no matter of the purpose. You stayed in your family mansion with his loyal people almost always keeping an eye on you and ensuring that your wishes and orders are fulfilled.

~ even tho he cannot be with you by obvious reasons during your hard times he regularly visits you to make sure that you’re doing well often fulfilling whims of his dear girl and the tiny creature, that develops inside of her. But mostly first one, massaging slightly swollen areas of your body, talking you through nausea and frequent dizziness in your head and, of course, spoiling you. Anything that slips through your conversation be it some kind of jewelry, hobby or food you can later found delivered right to your room with a beautifully written note that makes a smile on your face bloom leaving cheeks painted pink.

~ despite the fact that he doesn’t show it he really cares for your child and you can tell it by his hand that sometimes rests on your belly and suggestions about how it would be better for the baby to listen to your voice or music even if it didn’t form into an embryo yet. Also was the one who insisted on a complete change in your diet consuming more plant foods and animal protein even if you struggle with one of it he’ll make sure you eat it.

~ secretly he wants and honestly waits for another girl, thinking about how Jinx will take care of her younger sister, protecting and spending time together, even tho he’s a little bit afraid of her influence. In the end one hyperactive kid who likes to get into troubles is enough for him. But he hopes that mostly you’ll be the one to frequent with a child at least because he’s too busy and, for his own taste, too old to mess around with a noisy little creature who needs to be watched all the time.

~ when the childbirth finally comes he’s informed immediately after the water broke, by your maid, a woman who had worked for him for lots of years and as soon as this man is free from his duties as the ruler of the whole city he’ll rush to you to be by your side during the parturition. He probably will not be allowed to come near you so he would just sit there waiting for your pain and screams of suffering to be over as soon as possible.

~ holding a little boy on his hands he feels range of emotions while the child surprisingly calmly looks at him studying with its curious blue ocean eyes, just like his own. As if for a split second the whole world had shrunk, leaving no one in it except him and this little one just to observe, figure out how exactly to feel about each other: fear, concern… love? But after a moment passed he was already standing there, holding the small, fragile creature closer to his chest.

~ despite him not loving you in a conventional way, it seems like he developed really warm feelings towards you as one of his closest people, the one whom he values. You were his business partner, a mother of his child who mostly had the same goals as he — protect his son for any cost and give anything to raise him properly, as a person he himself could never be on the streets of his city. Sometimes, while sharing so rare and precious moments of your child peacefully sleeping together, you’d understand him better often comforting him even if he didn’t ask for it, while your head rests on his shoulder or your fingers find his.

~ it took a lot of efforts, mostly from your parents’ side, to finally arrange the marriage appealing on the fact that many people, including other prominent families that was respected by yours, won’t accept this child as an heir without an official confirmation. Through his discontent, annoyed sights and frowning eyebrows he ended up signing all the required papers making you his dear wife, as he often called you. And although it did not give any benefits to either you or him, many from the Council and Chem barons wanted to find leverage and establish control over the other side, but so far without any success.

Few years later

Man was sitting in his office overwhelmed with a pile of papers on his desk and a boy on his lap, who was drawing something in his own notebook which cover was painted and signed with his name with his favorite crayons. Pink and blue. Of course, following his sister in every way possible, but at least his fears were in vain. Even tho boy wanted to imitate his older sibling in many things he was calmer and much more sensible than many children his age, probably thanking to his father’s genetics and education, but it didn’t mean that sometimes he wasn’t capricious just like his mother.

— When will mom return? — the boy asked raising his big-eyed gaze to man’s face.

He sighed on this question. His dear wife was attending a meeting which was related to the family business, now fully belonged to her after her parents’ retirement. As was planned from the very beginning she was the one who took care of their child, sometimes resorting to Jinx’ help who was more than happy to assist. She perceived the girl, who was supposed to be her stepmother as a close friend, often visiting mansion and lingering there for a long time hanging around with her, to his own astonishment and relief.

— I don’t know. — man answers honestly. — Why? You don’t like it here?

Kid continued to stare at his father whom he looked so much like, with his dark hair and light blue eyes, looked at everyone around them inquiringly and at the same time warily. After some time spend with his older parent he even started to emulate man’s behavior and expression, ordering around to a bunch of his nannies which left his mother in touching awe. His blood, his heir who, as he sincerely hopes, will never see his people, people of Zaun in poverty, the one for whom he and his darling partner have to work even harder to achieve their common goals before these child’s eyes could see a cruelty of this two-faced world.

— I like being with you and mom.

He felt his heart melting from such a simple words of his child, this innocent little one who loved him with all heart. Smiling, he leaned over to boy’s forehead leaving a kiss and pulling him closer to his chest. His little family, people for whom he could easily give his life away if he’d need to, who cared for him no matter what, that’s something definitely worth fighting for.

#arcane silco #arcane x reader #arcane imagine #arcane headcanon #silco x reader #arcane #silco

722 notes · View notes

naffeclipse · 3 months ago

Text

Charm Brought It Back Pt. 5

Reader x Witches!Sun, Moon, & Eclipse

Commission Info

Ah, here we are! The last chapter in the Hocus Pocus AU by @jackofallrabbits and me! Once more, I'm honored and thrilled to have @deliasmilkshake's cover art for the finale! I can't say how grateful I am for everyone's support and lovely comments on this little series! There's a wedding to attend, so let's get to it <3

Content Warning: Suggestive themes, heavy kissing, and heavy touching.

———

The coolness of the woody air, cut away from the hot and claustrophobic space of the crowded gymnasium overflowing with celebration, brushes over your skin. Half-bare in your ruined sweater, you shiver. Eclipse eases you with a soft sound. His fingertips slip under your sweater and trace over your back to soothe the goosebumps prickling your flesh. Leaning deeper into him, you clutch him tightly in your arms.

You’ve never held someone so close before.

If you don’t open your eyes now, you’ll never believe this is real. The witches. The curses. The ceremony. All of it will be a dream on one cold October night while you lie in bed alone.

So you do. Little by little, you lift your cheek from his chest and tilt your head back, and behold the unnatural man, come back from the dead, who awaits your vows. His eyes glimmer gently in rich golden hues. The sharp cuts of his sun rays remind you of the encroaching sunrise, and you realize the sky is losing its stars as the black dillutes into a dawn of dark gray.

“We will have the ceremony here.” Eclipse inclines his head around you. “It may be simple, but it is only for the time being. When there is no urgency, we will celebrate properly with food and wine and the most beautiful altar. It will be to your heart’s desire, little comet.”

You look around to find what he describes as simple, and balk softly. You are not in the high school gym set in town but a clearing filled with half-dead vines twisting around the bare ground set amid shadowy trees with whispering boughs and the last of autumn’s leaves. The starlight barely reaches you. Dozens of round, orange pumpkins litter the ground around your feet. In the center of the pumpkin patch is a beautiful black wood tree with thick, bark-cracked limbs reaching high with a canopy of bright red and yellow leaves to serve as your altar.

Behind you, smoke not unlike from the party Eclipse just whisked you away from swirls and recedes further back into the cold night, unveiling Sun and Moon. They stand tall and expectant, their hands filled with silvery threads like spider gossamer and the veil of a bride. Sun’s yellow sun rays catch your eyes like a peacock fanning its tail. Moon’s hood lays quietly over his head and casts a calm shadow over the scarlet of his eyes. The weight of their gazes fall over you.

They are here for you too. The twitch in your limbs answers to the anticipation overflowing from your core.

You breathe in deeply. There are two people missing. Turning back to Eclipse, your lips poised to ask about your friends and how the brothers might intend to shuck their curses from them, when the smoke behind Sun and Moon continues to dissolve before it reveals just the ones heavy on your mind.

Michael and Vanessa.

Confusion crosses Michael’s undead face. Purple flesh upon his brow shoots up in alarm before his gaze finds you in the arms of the eldest witch. At his feet, the white rabbit raises her ears high. Vanessa’s green eyes pierce you with alarm and fright most unspeakable.

Your heart aches at the sight of them so drenched in dark magic. Reaching out a hand in a placating motion, you start to call out to them.

“Don’t!” Michael shouts overrules yours, as fierce and protective as he has been all through the night. He charges forward. “Get away from—”

Magic spills from Sun’s and Moon’s lips in a twining harmony. Their gazes are steel while their voices lift and multiply, filling the air with gales of hot and cold air before the old leaves on the pumpkin vines shudder. Creaking and crawling across the dirt, the dark green tendrils come to life and snatch Michael’s ankles, stopping him short as he struggles to remain balanced.

Vanessa bounds towards you. Her small body leaps over pumpkins and scurries around snares of pumpkin tendrils. She dodges a snaring vine before a second, hidden one snatches her, twisting her small little form into its clutches and holding her a few inches above the ground. Her feet kick out. Her entire body struggles as she tries violently to free herself but to no avail.

“Don’t hurt them.” You clutch Eclipse’s cloak until your knuckles turn white. Pleading with your entire being, you find his gaze. “Please. They’re my friends.”

A dryness infiltrates your mouth. Will they be better than what the villagers and witch hunters feared them to be? Can you ask them to be good for you? Your core burns with yearning, the hope of a brighter day filled with peace and joy, not more darkness. Not more pain and fear.

You don’t want to lose them.

Eclipse gently covers your fists and soothes them out until your palms relax against his chest.

“They won’t be harmed,” Eclipse nods towards his brothers. His sonorous voice lowers. “Sun and Moon understand your conditions. We have brought your friends here to give you our gifts, and to ensure there are no more interruptions.”

You nod shakily. A feeble tremble lingers throughout you, raking through your fingers and along your jawline. Your witch suitors have proven again and again their capabilities for wickedness and they continue to chase it through the midnight hours, but not here. They stand still, at your service. How they terrify you. How they enchant you.

Every single night you dreamt of someone to love, someone who would keep you warm and chase away the loneliness.

Have you found them or are you a love-sick fool still reaching for something that is not yours?

“Run, get away from here!” Michael struggles against the vines rooting him in place. Leaves twine tighter around his corpse-like body, forcing him to his knees and leaving him bound from his ankles all the way to his shoulders, wrapped up like a cruel gift.

One glower from Sun sends one last pumpkin vine around Michael’s flesh-rotten mouth and gags him.

Vanessa twists and writhes. Her small rabbit body struggles in the grasp of the vine snare and she sinks her teeth into it, attempting to chew through the restraint while her wide, desperate eyes flash to you.

“It’s okay,” you say softly. “Stop struggling. It’s going to be okay. Please, trust me.”

Michael stops fighting. A fear and anger so raw fills his gaze as Sun and Moon step after you. His fists clench as his jawbone wiggles, but his muffle words die behind the vine covering his teeth.

A strong sound jumps from Vanessa, caught between an animalistic cry and a human sob. She looks at you. Her wide eyes shine with dread.

Eclipse takes you by the shoulders, his eyes burning low as he turns you away from the fear of your friends. You keep your eyes on both of them.

“It’s okay,” you whisper again.

“Come, come, little comet.” Eclipse recaptures your attention with a finger hooking under your chin. “The hour is nigh. Sunrise is too near for us to wait any longer.”

“I know.” Your pulse swells in your ears, beating within you like a drum to a dance that’s too fast-paced for your feet to keep up with.

Your eyes stray from his somber expression to the black tree. Between the red and yellow leaves are dozens of spiderwebs, glimmering softly like silk streamers just for the ceremony. Gently, Eclipse releases you to stand back as Sun and Moon slip around you from both sides.

“My poppet,” Sun’s voice is sensual and warm. “Allow me to dress you in spider gossamer for this fine occasion.”

You slowly dip your head, all too confused but too uncertain to stop him as he draws out threads of silvery silk. He gently lays them upon your shoulders. His pale eyes swim with passion. A gentle murmur of magic flows from his lips, and you become enveloped in a light and cool cascade of fabric softer than rain and lighter than feathers. You look down at yourself.

Catching the fading shimmer of magic, you are now draped in an elegant but simple silver gown. A high neck collars you with big, flowing sleeves which cinch at your wrists with thick embroidery. The skirt falls in an A-shape and flows softly in the gentle wind of the night around your feet, almost brushing the dirt.

Your wedding attire. You touch the skirt with a delicate hand as if it may fall apart like a cobweb brushed away, but instead, you watch in silent marvel at the rippling, silk-like glimmer of the cloth.

Strangely, Sun possesses your clothes in his arms now. Your mind spins with questions but you are learning all too well that the answer is magic. With a smirk, he tosses aside the holey sweater and your dirt-stained jeans. The clothes land on the shell of a large, orange pumpkin.

“Beautiful,” Sun lowers his head in pleasure, his hand at his chest and his other arm held out in a formal bow to you. “Never was there a more lovely bride for three brothers.”

You blush fiercely.

“It is beautiful,” you admit, clutching a fistful of the skirt. You lift it and wave it back and forth once to watch it glimmer again.

“I’m not speaking of the dress, sunshine.” Sun straightens with a grin so devious, you must wonder again if you’re giving up your soul in such a ceremony.

A cool touch falls upon your hand. Claws curl carefully over your wrist. Dropping the skirt, you twist upon your feet to face Moon.

“A veil for you.” He holds it in his other hand. The delicate and sheer gossamer flows like silver water. “Lower your head. I will crown you in it.”

You bow slightly. Moon sweeps your hair back with his cool, careful fingertips and pins the veil upon your skull like a tiara. The soft, celestial fabric falls down around you. Blinking, you stare in awe at yourself, shrouded in majestic silver.

Moon gazes at you softly. His eyes fall from your hair and he reclaims your palm for a moment to behold you entirely.

“Exquisite.” He bows his head over your hand. “I dreamt of you since Eclipse first told us what he found in his bone scrying. I have waited for you all this time, my snowflower.”

A tremble falls over your bottom lip—not of fear, though there is still an anxious sparking within your nerves. You are washed away in his sincerity. The true intentions of a lover.

You have no words, and instead, gently squeeze his hand.

“May I add one last touch,” Eclipse says. He steps forward.

You lift your head to him as his gaze glows gently in the darkness like twin stars which circle you as his brothers step back. Eclipse sets his hand on your shoulder. Your breath slows as his touch traces your collarbone and falls down your side. You almost sway under his hand holding your hip before he sinks onto one knee to trail his palm along your thigh and all the way to your calf, touching your gown all the way down.

He speaks a gentle spell. You dare not move an inch as a gentle pulse, milky and starlight-like, falls over the cloth. You burn in the darkness like a candle. The gown stands out against the darkness like a comet streaking through the night sky.

“Oh,” is all you can say as you look down at yourself. There are no words which can contain the magnitude of what you feel towards the beauty and thought of their wedding attire for you. Though Sun, Moon, and Eclipse spark and snap like flames with their wide eyes and tall statures, you twinkle bright.

Emotion cakes your throat. Thickly, you swallow it back.

“A little starlight.” Eclipse smiles, his eyes burning sweetly. “For you are our equal, our partner, our bride.”

You don’t feel powerful. You don’t feel important enough to be involved in magic and ceremonies and love, yet here you stand, swathed in their adoration and gifts. You take hold of your skirt once more.

“Let us begin the ceremony,” Eclipse says softly. He takes your elbow and arm in arm, he walks you through a footpath worn through the pumpkin patch to the black tree, gnarled but beautiful. A most befitting altar.

Taking your other arm is Sun, sliding close to you with a simmering smile so close to you, you wonder if the slight heat brushing against your cheek is from his presence or the blood rush in your face. Behind you, like a pale shadow, Moon tenderly takes your skirt and follows close behind, keeping the beautiful fabric from gathering dust and pumpkin fronds.

And so you go to your wedding altar.

In times before, marriage served to form alliances between families. Parents arranged such contracts for children to benefit both parties. Most couples didn’t and couldn’t marry for love, rather they were bound for purely economic liaisons.

How beautiful is it that you could arrange yourself into a marriage most lovely?

Your grooms stop at the black tree. Eclipse slips away from your hand, and you look to him in confusion, fearing where he might wander away to. The elder witch grins as he simply looks at his brother. Sun’s hand lingers on your arm, trailing down to your wrist before he steps back, still beaming, still eager, but patient.

You turn slowly under the dusting of moonlight to face Moon. A swell rises in your heart, crashing through you until you’re sticky with emotion. His expression is soft and sweet like milk and honey. He gathers your hands between his own. Looking down, Moon draws the pads of his thumbs softly over your knuckles as if wishing to memorize the bone structure of your much smaller hands.

There is no time at all, but you keep the quiet with him, studying his mild countenance. His breaths are deep and even. A gentle scent of something late and herbal laces him, and you’re taken back to the mausoleum where he tasted you.

His eyes lift. The scarlet gleam holds you tender.

“Do you take me to be your husband?” His voice is gentle in its rasp. His eyes never leave you, drinking you in like wine. “My love is yours, for time and all eternity. I will honor you dearly, little mouse.”

A soft sound catches in your throat, somewhere between a chuckle and a weeping sound. You thought joy would be without tears, but you stand, clutching his claws tightly in your fists to steady yourself.

“I do.” The moonlight brightens as the words leave your lips. You watch in silent awe as the silver glow of the night dances over you both, and you taste midnight upon your tongue as Moon smiles.

He carefully takes your veil and lifts it over your head, allowing the silver threads to fall down your back. He leans in gently. In the way the tide is tugged by the lunar celestial body, you meet him in the small space between your bodies. The witch’s kiss presses to your mouth in a gentle yearning, pushing and pulling so long as you follow in time. You fall into him. Deepening the kiss, Moon cradles your lips against the white curve of his fangs. You sigh contently as you lose your breath in his presence, starstruck.

He releases you, though only your mouth. His hands clasp yours tightly and he softly caresses the back of your hands. Tied along his wrists are deep blue ribbons. Bells jangle softly underneath.

“I will keep you unto me forevermore.” Moon traces your digits with his claw. The soft glow of his gaze fills you with his sincerity.

You sink into his words like a pool of silver. You nod deeply.

“I will cherish you,” you promise in a trembling, choked voice. The power of the engagement drapes over you, pressing upon you the great importance of this entanglement.

“Breathe, little mouse.” He smiles. “I will keep you safe.”

You laugh quietly, too overwhelmed for words but your happiness seeps through all the same.

He kisses you once more before he lifts his head high. Following his gaze, you find Vanessa has stopped fighting. Her little rabbit nose twitches fast, afraid.

Moon offers a spell, deep and cool but releasing. His voice overlaps. A scent of sharp, pungent herbs swirls on the night breeze before he nods his head once more. Your old clothes fly off of the pumpkin they were resting on, and fall onto Vanessa still tangled in the pumpkin vines.

A moment later, in a shrouded flash of light, vines snap and clothes stretch, and there is a woman where there was once a rabbit.

Vanessa, thankfully, wears your sweater and jeans. Her green eyes fit much better in her human face as she kneels upon the ground and lifts her hands. Long blonde hair falls down around her shoulders. Slowly, she turns over her palm and clenches her fingers. No longer trapped, she gazes up at you.

Shock shines in her eyes, but her lips form soft awe.

“Vanessa,” you smile breathlessly. Whirling back, you kiss Moon once to his slight shock. “Thank you.”

“I will answer to your every desire,” he murmurs, then releases you.

Moon slips back from you. Before you can think of reaching for him, Sun takes you into his arms. You gasp softly at the warmth of his embrace surrounding you like you were basking near an open fire.

“Sunshine, I was beginning to fear you’ve forgotten about me.” He takes you carefully, slipping your feet onto his as he begins to spin you slowly, like a star tailspinning through the atmosphere. “You could never, could you? Not when I still vye for your kiss—and now, your vows returned.”

You hold onto his shoulders. Carefully underneath the gnarled limbs of the black tree, Sun waltzes you to an unsung song. He hums slowly with a gentle rumble in his chest. His eyes upon you are hungry in the way a candle flame clings to a wick, desperate to devour but unable to spread like a wildfire.

“No, I couldn’t forget you, Sun,” you whisper. He has left you dizzy and stunned, racing with you upon his broom and then pinning you underneath him upon a bed. There is too much you marvel about him to forget.

He twirls you gently, the moonlight blurring around you between earth and sky before he recaptures you. The threat of dawn seems so close and yet so far away from this wild pumpkin patch.

“That is all I can ask, though you must know, I want more of you.” His grin is wide but honest. How could you expect anything less from the one who has coveted you so zealously?

His hand rests on the small of your back. Pulling you flush against him, he holds you for one breathless moment, caught like two figurines in the apex of a lovers’ dance.

“Do you take me to be your husband?” His voice is steady, without flirtations or sultry suggestions. An honest question from a witch. “You have simply enchanted me, dove. I am at your mercy. I am at your service. And if you will, your bedside, your mornings, and your sunsets.”

Your eyelids flutter. A gentle push of tears make their way past your eyes, and you hold his wide, pale gaze. He searches your face with held breath. He clutches your hand and presses it to his chest, bared open to you. The bells tied to the dark red ribbons on his wrists jingle softly.

“I do.” You speak with the gentleness of certainty. The leaves overhead ruffle with a breeze that is far more fitting for summer than an incoming winter. Pressed so close, you fear he must know how your heart trembles in the wonder of knowing that he loves you, and you love him.

His expression erupts in sheer, unadulterated joy. He spins you once more, dancing as if he were walking on air before he dips you low. You intake a deep breath as he holds you above the pumpkin patch. His grin fills your entire vision as his fingers press softly into your dress. He wastes not a moment to crush your mouth in a kiss.

His hunger and eagerness leaves you breathless as he takes and takes before he gives just as much in return. You are captured within his affection. He is smooth and practiced, and you almost feel self conscious, but gently, he leads you. He guides your lips and teases you with his teeth. Even his tongue brushes the inside of your mouth before he softens it to a trickle after the flood of his expression. You taste a sweetness that slips down your throat like honey.

Gently, he brings you back up on your feet, though he does not release you. He kisses you again, greedily taking more. You are putty in his hands, molded by his mouth as if you were a honeycomb caught between teeth.

“Sunny,” Eclipse murmurs once in gentle warning.

Sun draws back reluctantly as if being torn from water after days in the desert. You gasp softly, your shoulders rising and falling after the rush of his love.

“I have devoted myself to you, my poppet,” he whispers into your ear as you rest against his chest. “My love is yours and yours alone.”

“Oh, Sun,” you clutch his shoulders tighter. “I will adore you for the rest of my days.”

“I know, sunshine.” He grins but softly kisses your cheek once in a strangely rare but precious, chaste gesture. “But I must share you or else I will keep you all night.”

He straightens, his arms still encircling you. Pale eyes sweep back and you eagerly look at Michael. He’s stopped fighting as well, no longer thrashing but watching with a strange, conflicted crinkle of his brow. Vanessa kneels close by, unmoving, still staring at her legs and arms and touching her hair.

Your entire body aches for Michael. The curse stains his flesh and twists him into a silver-screen monster.

Sun breathes a spell. His voice fills the air in unearthly chants that sweep over the ground and whirl the leaves on the pumpkin vines. They slowly crawl back, releasing Michael just as the same bright flash of energy and power takes hold of your dear friend.

The purple corpse recedes back and unveils the man underneath. Michael’s hair returns to its warmer shade of brown. His eyes blink and his corenas return white while his irises take hold with light and life. Rotten flesh returns to a rich tan color. His torn clothes refill with his healthy size and strength.

He clenches and unclenches his fists. Slowly, he stumbles forward. Vanessa helps catch him before he folds entirely after being freed from the witches’ curse.

You startle—is his leg still broken? Vanessa, however, stabilizes Michael, coaxing him to sit beside her. He folds his legs with natural ease—healed and whole.

“Michael, you’re alright,” you breathe, clutching Sun together.

He gives you a nod though in a slight daze. He opens his mouth but then decides against whatever he was going to say.

“Thank you.” You turn to Sun. “Thank you for sparing him.”

“Anything for our bride,” he simpers. With a great sigh, however, he lets go of you, his fingertips trailing over your sides before falling back beside Moon.

Under the black tree, Eclipse stands, patient but enduring.

You face him. He lifts his head but remains humble and composed before gently approaching. The light of a new day is beginning to change from deep gray to a burning orange leaking rosy pink at the edges. The sunrise is as terrifying as it is promising.

Eclipse opens his arms to you. Without hesitation, you enter his embrace as his hand finds your cheek. Tied tight around his wrist is a black ribbon with golden bells. His claws rest delicately on your hip over the silky soft fabric of your gown. Lightly, his thumb caresses your cheek. The gold of his gaze falls over you, gentle as the night.

“Little comet,” he says, steady despite the impending light threatening to take away all. Yet, he takes his time, tasting his words before giving them to you. “Do you take me to be your husband? I have waited—”

In a heart rush, you utter, “I do.”

Eclipse stares, eyes wide. His red sun rays catch the first glance of daylight, brightening his vision as if a spotlight fell upon him. He looks towards the horizon as you do. You squint slightly against the brightness.

Lifting his hand from your face, he watches the black ribbon and bells dissolve into dark smoke, then nothing. Sun and Moon turn their wrists as the respectful dark red and deep blue ribbons fall away from them as if burned and leave not a wisp behind.

You take Eclipse’s hand and draw it closer to you, gently kissing his knuckles before smiling.

“You’re free. You’re all free.” You flush deeply as you look to Sun and Moon and their gazes of content awe. “My husbands.”

A soft, strange sound leaves Eclipse. A breath caught between wonder and something deeper, something roiling with adoration. His gaze falls back to you, and again, he touches your cheek.

“I did not finish my vows to you.” He cradles your face close in his palms, leaning closer as your eyes lock. “I swear to you happiness, protection, and my unending love. From this day on, you will always be warm. You will always have my hand to hold. You will never fear the darkness for I will be with you.”

He pauses, his grin spreading wide. He looks at you as if you were a dream. A living, breathing vision.

“We are eternally bound to you, our spouse.” Eclipse leans in close. “Say my name, once more.”

Your eyelids slip close for one precious moment, warmed by the brilliant light, and the touch of Eclipse’s hands cradling you as if you were delicate.

“Eclipse,” you whisper.

His grin is beautiful and lovely. You start as you feel a second pair of arms surround you. Sweeping you off your feet, Eclipse lifts you into his embrace. This close, he smells of gentle spice and musk.

He strokes your cheek once before closing the distance between your lips. You feel his hunger in the echo of your own—the want to devour but gently, he tastes you. A soft whine catches in the back of your throat. Melting under his warmth, he invades you gently and his tongue brushes against your own. His kiss takes you under, and you drop breathlessly into his grasp.

He pulls and takes in soft, sweet motions. Rhythmic and powerful, he tastes you until you fear you might fall once more. But he will catch you. This much you are certain.

He pulls back gently, kissing you one last time as if in need of the strength it gives him, before his honeyed gaze settles on you.

“Your freckles are beautiful, like the stars upon the night sky,” he says. He kisses the right side of your face, then glides to the left and lingers there a moment. “You are truly staying with us, my little comet.”

You blush, and cling to him. Your hands, however, are gently tugged. You look away from Eclipse to find Moon curling his claws under your digits and lifting your hand sweetly to his mouth. Eclipse shifts you gently in his arms to rest you against his back while keeping you cradled like a bride on her wedding night—you suppose you are such a bride, Sun’s hand traces from your shoulder down your arm until he captures your hand. There, he kisses your knuckles slowly. You close your eyes, bubbling in the blissful sunlight as your husbands adore you.

A kiss like the brush of a moth wing touches your head. Eclipse hums gently against you. You make a soft, sweet sound at their tender affection.

“My husbands,” you say, then laugh a little, beaming at their gentle looks. “I’m going to have to get used to saying that.”

“You will,” Sun purrs, “And there’s so much time for us to grow used to our lovely spouse.”

“So much time,” Moon rasps gently, “You must be exhausted.” He kisses your fingertips until you shiver and blush.

“Perhaps we should take our bride home,” Eclipse suggests gently. “You can sleep in our bed and rest, and when you wake, we’ll celebrate more.”

You stir at the thought. You won’t drive back to your tiny apartment. No, instead you will stay here with your husbands, and the bed you will sleep in will be warm and filled with their bodies.

You won’t wake up alone.

“I’d like that.” You squeeze Sun’s and Moon’s hands and turn your head back to gaze at Eclipse with a fond smile.

A quiet voice says your name. You turn your head, stunned to find Michael and Vanessa stepping towards you. Vanessa supports Michael’s arm around her shoulders as his strength seems to wane. Their eyes are mirrors of witch hunters from long ago as they behold the brothers holding their virgin bride.

Claws tighten around you. Moon flashes his sharp teeth as Sun lifts his chin high, looking down at the pair with disdain. The arms holding you off the ground squeeze in the slightest until you wriggle. Eclipse nearly keeps you away, but gingerly, he sets you back on your feet.

Michael holds your gaze, his brow crinkled in concern but restored to his natural health.

“Are you really staying with them?” he asks quietly, his gaze darting sharply to the witches.

You smile at the slight shifting around you. The drape of Moon’s cloak almost falls over your shoulder as he takes your hand close and caresses your arm. A murmur of wishing to return them both to rabbits falls from Sun’s lips, but he merely interlocks his digits between your own. Behind you, Eclipse draws a tender hand down your back, feeling the ridges of your spine through the delicate fabric of your gown.

“I love them.” You look at your husbands. Their faces brighten, their touches softening upon you. “I’m staying.”

“What do we do now?” Vanessa asks. Her face looks lost, and you imagined after a few centuries of only guarding the starry candle, she must be.

You muse for a moment, and survey your husbands with a careful air. “Is your home now my home?”

“Of course,” Eclipse answers without hesitation. “Everything that is ours is yours.”

“Then I may invite my friends inside?”

Sun and Moon exchange a glance, Sun more annoyed than Moon’s mild surprise, but they both incline their heads.

“If that is your wish,” Moon gives gently.

“It is.” You squeeze their palms. “We can start a proper home, and we can learn how to forgive.”

“Forgive?” Vanessa balks.

“Yes.” You look at her as the bright light of day touches her face. Her eyes are truly green and sharp like cut emeralds. “Let’s get out of this pumpkin patch and go home and rest. Then we can make peace.”

Michael looks down at Vanessa.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you, unlike my ancestor.” His brow is set firm. To your awe, Michael does not tremble with rage or the need to fight again. Perhaps the witches are beginning to prove themselves, and Michael will give them a chance. Just one chance.

“Very well then, my poppet.” Sun turns to you and kisses you in a sudden burst of heat and passion before he releases you. Stunned, you almost sway but Eclipse wraps an arm around your waist. Sun gestures with his free arm in an open invitation. “Enter our humble abode. You are our spouse’s guests, which means you are ours.”

Vanessa glares at him. Her foot falls down on a withered vine and it cracks.

“Charming as ever, Vanessa.” Sun flashes his teeth in a grin.

“Sun,” you chastise.

He rubs your wrist, half apologetic.

“I will make soup.” Moon muses. “My cauldron pot is where I left it, I hope.”

The heaviness in the air reminds you that the night has been long, and you are dreadfully exhausted. Vanessa and Michael barely hold themselves upright, but they lean on each other.

“Excellent.” Eclipse waves his hand. Smoke seeps up from the ground, swirling around your feet before you close your eyes, and lean into the pillars of your husbands for support.

The air changes. A slight breeze, warm for October, encircles you. You inhale a gentle scent of rich earth and dust. When you open your eyes again, the brothers’ home is standing before you, same as it ever was, but entirely changed.

Perhaps it’s only you who has changed, now hanging on to the witches.

Michael and Vanessa are just behind you and the witches, standing on the gravel outside of the home, disgruntled about the change of scenery or perhaps the use of magic, but you hope they’ll see the possibility of goodness within the brothers as you have.

Eclipse’s hand slips under your chin to lift your head back. His expression warms with the bright new day. Sun kisses your fingertips until you shiver in delight. Moon turns your palm over to reach the delicate lines of veins along your wrist, and presses his lips to your pulse.

“We are home,” Eclipse says. He kisses the top of your head.

You are home with your husbands.

#naff's writing commissions #hehehe Happy Halloween!!!#make sure you let jack know how much you like this au <3333 #and tell delia how incredible their art is!!!#hocus pocus au my beloved #witch!eclipse #witch!sun #witch!moon #charm brought it back #naff writing

523 notes · View notes

theoldtaylors · 10 months ago

Text

The Tortured Poets Department Prologue

At this hearing I stand before my fellow members of the Tortured Poets Department With a summary of my findings A debrief, a detailed rewinding For the purpose of warning For the sake of reminding

As you might all unfortunately recall I had been struck by a case of a restricted humanity Which explains my plea here today of temporary i n s a n i t y

You see, the pendulum swings Oh, the chaos it brings Leads the caged beast to do the most curious things

Lovers spent years denying what's ill fated Resentment rotting away galaxies we created

Stars placed and glued meticulously by hand next to the ceiling fan

Tried wishing on comets. Tried dimming the shine. Tried to orbit his planet. Some stars never align.

And in one conversation, I tore down the whole sky.

Spring sprung forth with dazzling freedom hues Then a crash from the skylight bursting through Something old, someone hallowed, who told me he could be brand new

And so I was out of the oven and into the microwave Out of the slammer and into a tidal wave How gallant to save the empress from her gilded tower Swinging a sword he could barely lift But loneliness struck at that fateful hour Low hanging fruit on his wine stained lips

He never even scratched the surface of me.

None of them did.

"In summation, it was not a love affair!" I screamed while bringing my fists to my coffee ringed desk It was a mutual manic phase. It was self harm. It was house and then cardiac arrest.

A smirk creeps onto this poet's face Because it's the worst men that I write best.

And so I enter into evidence My tarnished coat of arms My muses, acquired like bruises My talismans and charms The tick, tick, tick of love bombs My veins of pitch black ink

All’s fair in love and poetry

Sincerely, The Chairman of The Tortured Poets Department

#txt #ttpd #the tortured poets department

908 notes · View notes

evermoredeluxe · 10 months ago

Text

In Summation by Taylor Swift

At this hearing

I stand before my fellow members of the Tortured Poets Department

With a summary of my findings

A debrief, a detailed rewinding

For the purpose of warning

For the sake of reminding

As you might all unfortunately recall

I had been struck with a case of a restricted humanity

Which explains my plea here today of temporary insanity

You see, the pendulum swings

Oh, the chaos it brings

Leads the caged beast to do the most curious things

Lovers spend years denying what's ill fated

Resentment rotting away galaxies we created

Stars placed and glued meticulously by hand next to the ceiling fan

Tried wishing on comets.

Tried dimming the shine.

Tried to orbit his planet.

Some stars never align.

And in one conversation, I tore down the whole sky

Spring sprung forth with dazzling freedom hues

Then a crash from the skylight bursting through

Something old, someone hallowed, who told me he could be brand new

And so I was out of the oven

And into the microwave

Out of the slammer and into a tidal wave

How gallant to save the empress from her gilded tower

Swinging a sword he could barely lift

But loneliness struck at that fateful hour

Low hanging fruit on his wine stained lips

He never even scratched the surface of me.

None of them did.

“In summation, it was not a love affair!”

I screamed while bringing my fists to my coffee ringed desk It was a mutual manic phase.

It was self harm.

It was house and then cardiac arrest.

A smirk creeps onto this poet's face

Because it's the worst men that I write best.

And so l enter into evidence

My tarnished coat of arms

My muses, acquired like bruises

My talismans and charms

The tick, tick, tick of love bombs

My veins of pitch black ink All's fair in love and poetry

Sincerely,

The Chairman

of The Tortured Poets Department

#in summation #the tortured poets department #ttpd #taylor swift #arshia talks

959 notes · View notes

hrrtshape · 2 months ago

Note

lmao girl I deleted peter's ass too. can we have your marauders backstory or script or smth though? because james' cousin?? that's tea and I need it (insert squidward begging pic)

　EMMAS MARAUDERS ✶ DESIRED REALITY.

　　　　　　　　　　　ּ 　*　 ˖ 　་　ּ 　

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT I. 　　　　　　　　　" meet EMMALINA ! " 　　　　THE SHIMMERING WITCH of gryffindor tower.

with russian-french roots and a family name that whispers through the halls of wizarding infamy, she strides through hogwarts like a fox, literally, given her animagus form, equal parts grace and mischief. cousin to james potter (who swears his frenchness shows in his hair), she brings an aristocratic flair to his otherwise scruffy charm.

the history of magic classroom might as well be her throne room. while others yawn, she's weaving tales of goblin rebellions like an academic bard. there’s no peter pettigrew in this reality (we don’t talk about him), leaving the marauding dynamic sharper, cleaner, and ready for some dazzling drama.

born on the honeyed cusp of dawn in 1960, emmalina juliette [...] did not so much enter the world as she stormed it, small fists curled like questions, arriving amidst the shadowy splendour of Iskanderhall, her family’s ancestral manor. iskanderhall wasn’t just a home; it was a kingdom in its own right. draped in mist and arrogance, nestled in the raw heart of the untamed highlands, the estate sprawled like a great sleeping beast, its turrets clawing at the sky. whispered myths clung to its walls, a place where secrets seemed stitched into the stones. even the wind carried a kind of conspiratorial hush, as though it knew something no one else did.

emmalina’s early years were a tug-of-war between the suffocating grandeur of her bloodline and the wild freedom of the highlands. the [...]s, distant relation to the russian imperial family (a detail her mother embroidered into every conversation like a prized crest on a dinner napkin), had escaped to britain generations ago, bringing with them their storied high-brow arrogance, treasures that gleamed like unsaid truths, and a reputation for being brilliantly dangerous. her parents ruled over iskanderhall with the kind of presence that could silence a room, her father with a steely gaze, her mother with the kind of smile that could curdle milk. they expected nothing less than perfection, the kind that could waltz into a room and leave an impression, and they weren’t shy about saying so.

but emmalina, oh, that sweet summer child, had the wild in her veins. between lectures on the noble responsibilities of pureblood supremacy, she would slip away, barefoot and unbothered, to the hills. here, where the air tasted of heather and mischief, she discovered her animagus form: a sleek, flame-furred fox.

sirius was one of the few bright spots in her otherwise curated childhood. his family, the ever-dour blacks, frequented iskanderhall for summer soirées and political whispers. while their parents sipped blood-red wine and traded thinly veiled threats over crystal decanters, emma and sirius carved their own conspiracies. he was all dark rebellion and smirks; she was sharp-tongued and feral around the edges, a duo born for trouble. their friendship was not so much a bond as a secret language, a rebellion against the velvet cages of their upbringings.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT II.

when her hogwarts letter arrived, her parents expected her to glide into slytherin or, at worst, ravenclaw, carrying the [...] name like a banner. but the sorting hat, bless its insolent fabric, spent an age hemming and hawing before settling on gryffindor. there was something foxlike in her heart, it decided, a ferocity that didn’t belong in green or blue.

at hogwarts, emmalina was a comet, blazing and impossible to ignore. her silvery accent and cool self-possession cloaked her in intrigue, but it was her partnership with her cousin, james potter, that truly set the castle alight. together, they turned hogwarts into their personal theatre of chaos. the gryffindor common room bore the brunt of their experiments, and if a prefect caught them, james would charm his way out while emmalina, ever the fox, slipped away unnoticed. sirius, of course, was their shadow, laughing all the while, and remus added a reluctant balance. peter pettigrew, as far as they were concerned, didn’t exist; in fact, in this version of reality, he’d been conveniently hexed out of existence before term began as we don't need backstabbing c$#ts around here.

but beneath the hijinks, emmalina was a paradox, a girl whose laugh could undo a room but who secretly devoured history of magic with a hunger no one could fathom. while her peers groaned through binns’ droning lectures, emmalina filled page after page with scrawled notes, her fascination with forgotten goblin rebellions and obscure wizarding wars betraying an academic streak no one expected.

her most curious entanglement, however, was with coriolanus snow. a slytherin to his polished bone, he was the heir to one of the wizarding world’s most notorious families. their interactions began as rivalry, sharp-tongued exchanges in the corridors, hexes lobbed across the great hall like poorly aimed arrows. no one knew when the venom turned to venom-laced attraction, when “i hate you” slipped into “i despise you” before landing, ungracefully, in “i love you.” they burned like wildfire, their arguments loud enough to wake the castle, their stolen moments of tenderness hidden like contraband. they were everything their friends loathed: fire and ice, chaos and control, doomed yet incandescent.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT III.

miss [...] thrived at hogwarts, blending her intellectual curiosity with her daring gryffindor spirit. her favourite subjects were astronomy, history of magic, and muggle studies, where she excelled due to her ability to draw connections between magical and non-magical worlds. she often found herself at the astronomy tower, charting the stars in peaceful solitude, or passionately debating the nuances of magical history with anyone who would listen.

professor mcgonagall took a particular liking to emmalina, impressed by her sharp mind and unwavering determination. she became a frequent visitor to mcgonagall’s office, seeking advice or discussing transfiguration techniques. mcgonagall’s approval only fuelled emma's ambition, and she strove to make her head of house proud in every endeavor.

her circle of friends extended beyond the marauders to include lily evans, dorcas meadowes, and her close companion lily rose, a fiercely loyal gryffindor who shared emma's love for late-night stargazing and whispered secrets. together, they navigated the highs and lows of hogwarts life, from study sessions in the library to daring escapades that left even the marauders impressed.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ּ 　*　 ˖ 　་

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT IV. 　　　　　THE CHRONICLES OF HOGWARTS 　　　　( AND THE SCANDALS THAT FOLLOWED )

emma—a calamity, empress of bedlam, and self-appointed sovereign of sand dunes since that one time in her fifth year when dyeing her locks copper must have singed her last shred of restraint—was simply not entertaining the james-and-sirius soap opera hour. let them bicker over who could charm their quills faster or who had the sharper jawline in moonlight. meanwhile, she was over here, casually assembling a tabloid empire that could topple the ministry itself.

take a seat, spectators. let us dissect how emma, with all the grace of a caffeinated banshee, planned to rule hogwarts, temporarily but with a permanence that only chaos can cement. picture it: eric cartman reimagined as a gryffindor princess, machiavelli in silk stockings, all wrapped in a sylvia plath first edition. a walking oxymoron of aristocratic tantrums and poetic nihilism, she made roman roy look like a first-year hufflepuff lost in the corridors.

⋆ the hourglass annihilation : at precisely 11:59 pm, the enchanted hourglasses would combust into glitter and confusion, rendering gryffindor and slytherin’s house points irrelevant. ravenclaw, oddly enough, would gain 150 points overnight. weird. suspicious. downright uncanny, truly.

⋆ the great feast famine : she waltzed into the kitchens under the guise of a hard-hitting exposé on house-elf oppression but instead orchestrated a pumpkin juice shortage to fuel her underground black-market butterbeer racket. supply and demand, lovies. don't hate the players, hate the game.

⋆ polyjuice party-crashing : with her cousin james’ invisibility cloak in tow, she infiltrated the slytherin dormitory meeting. to this day, lucius malfoy hasn’t lived down the atrocious rumours of his tragic toe fungus.

⋆ the whomping willow curse : emma, ever the quick-buck entrepreneur (blame her mother), spread whispers that the whomping willow was cursed to ensnare romantically unsatisfied couples during their hogsmeade dates. pda levels skyrocketed as couples made embarrassing public displays of “true love.”

⋆ the quidditch match sabotage : a quick word with peeves, a little ghostly streaking at the hufflepuff vs. ravenclaw game, and voilà—exclusive interview rights to his exposé: “ poltergeist in polyester: peeves speaks. ”

⋆ the frog choir conspiracy : convincing half the school that the choir’s frogs were polyjuiced students was a stroke of genius. “could this be thy, jeremy?” read the blurry photo of a suspiciously human-like frog mid-jump.

⋆ the room of requirement rave : emma turned hogwarts’ most magical secret into the underground party hotspot, charging entry fees that somehow all went into firewhiskey and peeves’ DJ salary. bagpipes-only playlists, take it or leave it.

⋆ the prefect bathroom soap opera : one enchanted bubble bath later, and every gryffindor prefect’s secrets were whispered into the steam: “i saw you pick you nose, jude, i will tell everyone!”

emma wasn’t just causing anarchy; she was building an empire, brick by glittery, scandalous brick. from the sorting hat coup (sorting first-years into “badger bros” and “parseltongue posse”) to the owlery hostage crisis (an uprising demanding chocolate frogs as postage payment), she was an unstoppable, and truly, an annoying force.

when the great hall time-turner incident derailed every quidditch match for weeks, and the slytherin economic collapse left lucius malfoy red-faced and 100 galleons poorer, emma was somewhere in the room of requirement, sipping butterbeer and plotting her next move.

she wasn’t merely the gryffindor head firl; she was now the head of state. if hogwarts didn’t rename its history books after her, it was committing educational malpractice. build her a throne. preferably made of all the broken house points hourglasses she destroyed. her tabloid��is just the first step in my empire. next stop: ministry of magic. by force. naturally.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ּ 　*　 ˖ 　་

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT V. 　　　　　　　　　THE ACADEMIC PORTRAIT.

ASTRONOMY : 7 / 7 — stars don’t lie, and neither does emmalina’s perfect score. her knack for celestial navigation is unmatched, and she has a little habit of slipping poetic metaphors about constellations into her essays. she’s also mastered the art of charming professor sinistra by always showing up to stargazing sessions with perfectly rolled parchment and a bit of dramatic flair (think: velvet cloaks and faux-cryptic musings about the moon).

PROFESSOR SINASTRA'S NOTES : “ miss ... has an uncanny ability to map the heavens with precision, though her insistence on turning every constellation into a metaphor for doomed romances is... unique. ”

HISTORY OF MAGIC : 7 / 7 — naturally. a direct result of her obsessive reading, family archives, and a romanticised view of the past. she’s that annoying student who voluntarily writes extra essays, constantly debates binns on niche points of goblin history. she’s genuinely convinced she’ll be in the textbooks someday.

PROFESSOR BINN'S NOTES : “ she is one of the few students to actively engage with my lectures. [...] while her tendency to editorialise is frustrating, her work is meticulous and her arguments, while dramatic, are logically sound. ”

MUGGLE STUDIES : 6 / 7 — she insists she’s "too cultured" for this class but secretly loves it because it’s her ticket to overdramatic critiques of her classmates’ lack of muggle knowledge. professor tofty was so charmed by her footnotes (and latent existential commentary) that they gave her a near-perfect grade.

PROFESSOR TOTFY'S NOTES : “ her grasp of muggle culture is impressive, though she approaches the subject with a certain aloofness, as if observing a particularly exotic bird. while her essay on the psychological implications of traffic lights was unnecessarily existential, it was also utterly fascinating. ”

POTIONS : 5 / 7

— slughorn knows she lied about her grandma dying, but her tears were convincing enough that he caved. brewing potions, for emma, is less about precision and more about vibes; sometimes it works, sometimes it explodes, and she’s fine with either outcome.

PROFESSOR SLUGHORN'S NOTES : “ ah, a curious case. her potions are unpredictable at best, explosive at worst, but she makes up for it with undeniable charm. ”

TRANSFIGURATION : 6 / 7

— her fox animagus tendencies are both a gift and a curse. on the one hand, mcgonagall appreciates her natural talent for animal-related transfigurations; on the other, she’s constantly penalised for her “creative liberties” (like transfiguring someone’s quill into a lizard mid-class “for a laugh”).

PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL'S NOTES : “ miss ... has natural talent but lacks discipline. i've repeatedly warned her that transfiguring classmates’ belongings into woodland creatures is not ‘creative problem-solving.’ if she ever learns to focus her efforts, she could excel in this subject. ”

CHARMS : 7 / 7 — duelling club MVP and absolute show-off. she can cast a perfect aguamenti with a casual flick, and her summoning charms are so on point that she once “accidentally” summoned sirius’s shoe from across the castle. flitwick loves her enthusiasm but occasionally has to remind her that magic is not, in fact, not lighthearted.

PROFESSOR FLITWICK'S NOTES : " a brilliant student with a knack for charmwork that borders on showmanship. her only fault is her love of spectacle—her recent essay on the alohomora charm inexplicably included glitter. "

DIVINATION : 6 / 7 — as a natural oracle (and dramatic flair enthusiast), she’s great at the theatrical side of this class. however, she has a bad habit of predicting catastrophes purely to stir up drama. once foretold a student would “trip into his true love,” and when it happened during dinner, she took full credit.

PROFESSOR TRELAWNEY'S NOTES : “ miss ... is undoubtedly gifted, though her talent is often overshadowed by her dramatic tendencies. nonetheless, her scrying is superb, and her visions, while eccentric, are often eerily accurate. ”

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT VI. 　　　　　　　　　　　THE HOBBIES.

archaic letter writing : she writes letters to friends on parchment using quills dipped in absurdly expensive enchanted ink, letters so beautifully crafted they could be sold as art. sometimes, she forgets to send them.

sketching history : emma loves to draw little caricatures of historical witches and wizards in the margins of her textbooks. slughorn caught her once during potions, only to discover a rather flattering sketch of himself as a duelling champion.

enchanted origami : she folds parchment into tiny enchanted animals that hop across desks or flutter around classrooms. one time, a paper phoenix burst into flames in flitwick’s class, causing quite the uproar.

fortune-telling experiments : she doesn’t believe in divination but keeps a deck of tarot cards she uses to intimidate people in the common room (“your future looks bleak, lovie. maybe don’t eat the shepherd’s pie tonight?”).

collecting trivial magical facts : she has a journal stuffed with obscure magical trivia, like the exact number of cauldron explosions recorded in hogwarts history (321, if anyone’s curious).

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ּ 　*　 ˖ 　་

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT VII. 　　　　　　　FAVOURITE SPOTS IN HOGWARTS.

the trophy room : she claims it’s the most underrated place to people-watch because of the odd assortment of students sneaking in to polish old awards. she even made up a game called trophy stories, where she and her friends invent scandalous backstories for the winners.

the owlery : she finds solace in the chaos of screeching owls and the lingering smell of parchment and rain. when no one’s looking, she recites poetry to the owls like she’s performing to a rapt audience.

the kitchens : she has a special spot in the corner where the house-elves sneak her freshly baked éclairs and orange juice. she insists that the elves give her life advice better than any professor.

the astronomy tower (but not at night) : she goes there early in the morning to watch the sunrise and reflect on her most recent academic rivalries.

the lake’s edge : she dips her toes into the water and chats with the squid like they’re old pals. she swears it “understands her” and sends her approving splashes when she’s feeling low.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ּ 　*　 ˖ 　་

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT VIII. 　　　　　　　　　　 LOVE LIFE CHAOS.

emma, gryffindor’s gleaming crown jewel, all head girl polish and unshakeable poise, finds herself tangled, no, downright ensnared, in a maddening duel of wit, charm, and unresolved, spark-shooting tension with none other than coriolanus snow. the slytherin head boy. heir to ambition so icy it burns, a charisma that sidles right up to discomfort, and a smirk that makes her want to fling her inkpot across the great hall. he’s the sort of boy who makes you forget to breathe when he walks into a room, infuriating, insufferable, intoxicating, and frankly, it’s ruining her life.

what begins as pure academic warfare (she’s all quills-out precision; he’s maddeningly cool rebuttals) quickly morphs into something stickier, trickier, downright labyrinthine. they’ve got the whole castle holding their breath, watching this slow, delicious train wreck unfold.

in public, they’re sugar-coated thorns. their words cut, sure, but with a syrupy kind of sweetness that leaves everyone buzzing. he’ll saunter up in charms and adjust her wand grip with the most insufferable smirk, murmuring, “ if you’re aiming to turn the teapot into a shoe, you’re doing splendidly. ” she’ll retaliate in charms, slicing his arguments to ribbons with a smile so bright it could outshine lumos. they’re gossip fodder for everyone, even the fat lady leans closer when they bicker near the gryffindor common room (which he visits suspiciously often).

but oh, behind the scenes it's another beast entirely. snow, mr. too-cool-to-care, has saved her spot in the library far too many times for it to be coincidence. (“ it’s quieter here, ” he’ll mutter, not meeting her eyes.) and emma, who swore on merlin’s saggy socks she wouldn’t give him the time of day, has slipped him notes about transfiguration essays because, godric help her, she felt bad.

and then there are the patrols, those velvet-dark hours when the castle’s asleep, save for the flicker of their wandlight and the soft echo of their footsteps. side by side, no words spoken, the air crackles with something unnamed. It’s like standing in the eye of a storm, knowing full well the winds are coming but too enchanted by the stillness to move.

the astronomy tower knows too much. it’s where their arguments, ambition versus courage, slytherin versus gryffindor, logic versus gut feeling, dissolve into softer things. like how he hates chess because his grandmother was obsessed with it. like how she feels most herself on a broomstick, slicing through clouds. he laughs, really laughs, when she teases him about his scarily neat handwriting “ do you stencil your letters, or does it just come naturally? ”. and sometimes, when she gets too lost in the stars, he watches her. quietly. like she’s the only constellation worth memorising.

and oh, the small things. the way his lips twitch whenever she’s flustered. the way her quill digs deep into the parchment whenever he leans too close. one accidental hand brush during a yule ball, and she’s blushing harder than a howler. and him? he’ll cover for her during potions disasters, not because he cares, mind you, but because listening to slughorn wax poetic about “ unrealised brilliance ” isn’t worth the headache. “ you owe me, ” he’ll say, voice low, eyes strangely softer than sleep.

the castle knows something’s brewing, of course it does. it’s in the charged glances that stretch too long, the smirks that linger, the way their arguments hum with an undercurrent of something else. neither will admit it, of course. not yet. but when you’re debating wand movements and holding eye contact like it’s oxygen, well, the feelings have already gone and written their own love letter.

what comes next? that’s a riddle only time, and perhaps a few midnight patrols, can solve.

151 notes · View notes

pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou · 5 months ago

Text

SKELIES MASTERLIST

Hey there traveler! Heard you like some... Certain skeletons huh? Well if yes, this is your lucky day!

(Rules to request are on the bottom btw.)

Female Angel reader x sans hcs

Sans talking about reader, and then reader appears right behind him

Sans realizing he has feelings for reader hcs

Would they survive No-Nut November?

Sans taking care of sick reader hcs

Sans and Cash think reader cheated because she's pregnant, a year later they find her with a babybones.

Mal and Mutt think reader cheated because she's pregnant, a year later they find her w a babybones.

Sans husband hcs

Cross, Fresh, Ink and Sans w reader booping them and running away

Red x male reader

Energetic group w reader who internalized that being noisy around others is bad.

Swap bros x vampire reader

Honey trying to quit smoking and failing

Papyruses w reader asking for a kiss

Younger brother group catching reader dancing and singing while cleaning

SWAPFELL SANS AND FELLSWAP SANS X READER HEADCANNONS (Separate

Rus meeting reader

Fellswap Gold bros x kind reader headcannos

Fellswap Gold bros x blind reader

Cross, Epic, Fresh and Wine w reader asking for a kiss

The cool trio romantic headcannos

Cross x reader smut

Poly relationship headcannons (Killer, Dust and Ted x reader)

Dust with best friend reader headcannons

Murder time trio with Hemophobic reader poly headcannos

Murder time trio + Nightmare with Goth reader

Nightmare x reader headcannons

Too late (Dream and Nighmare x reader).

Cross, Dream and Nightmare x singer reader

Poly relationship headcannons (Killer, Dust and Ted x reader)

Killer x insecure reader

Ink platonic headcannos

Star sanses x Godzilla reader

The cool trio romantic headcannos

Fresh w introvert reader

Epic with reader who's serious w everyone except him

Reader comforting Epic after a nightmare

Cross and Epic x tsundere reader

Epic w Jessica rabbit reader

Younger brother group w reader having a fatphobic family

Star sanses accidentally kissing reader on first meeting

US, UF and FSG bros x shy reader.

Bad sanses + Dream x Regina George Reader

US and FSG bros finding out reader has a chronic illness

Ink w affectionate reader

Murder time Trio w reader who stalked them way before they met

Sans w reader who loves echo flowers

Some Lucky NSFW writing

Nightmare x fallen angel reader

Would mafia boys tell reader about their job?

Killer w reader who has body dysmorphia

Fresh platonic hcs

Fresh kissing reader randomly

Yandere Cross x Werewolf reader

HALLOWEEN Specials:

Cool trio + killer w artist reader

Murder time trio w singer reader

Halloween special 🎃: Yandere Cash x reader

Halloween special 🎃: Yandere Dust x reader

Halloween special 🎃: Yandere Error x reader

Halloween special 🎃: Yandere Solaris x reader

CHRISTMAS Specials:

Nightmare x Christmas Elf reader ❄️

Sky, Red, Mutt and Coffee being under the mistletoe with reader ❄️

Younger brother group when reader makes ugly matching Christmas sweaters for them ❄️

(NSFW) Nightmare, Killer, Ted and Dust w reader wanting to wrap them like a gift for Christmas ❄️

(NSFW) Bad sanses w reader wearing a provocative Mrs Claus costume❄️

Nightmare w peré fouettard reader❄️

Bad sanses + Dream w reader who loves Christmas❄️

Younger brother group (minus Coffee and Mutt) under the mistletoe ❄️

Cross w reindeer hybrid reader

Series:

Once in a Nightmare |part 1|

Lamias:

Lamia Cross in mating season w owner reader ( a bit NSFW)

Lamia Dust in mating season w male owner reader (NSFW)

Hypersexual reader:

Killer w hypersexual reader

Fresh, Epic and Reaper w hypersexual reader

Honey w hypersexual reader

Skelies available for requests:

Undertale(Sans,Papyrus)

Underfell (Red, Edge)

Underswap (Sky, Honey)

Swapfell (Berry, Cash)

Fellswap (Mal, Mutt)

Fellswap Red (Rasp, Rus)

Fellswap Gold (Wine, Coffee)

HorrorTale (Axe, Willow)

HorrorFell (Hound, Noir)

HorrorSwap (Rot, Butcher)

OuterTale (Comet, Cosmo)

OuterFell (Venus, Mars)

OuterSwap (Star, Meteor)

MafiaTale (Smoke, Spade)

MafiaFell (Butch, Boss)

MafiaSwap (Lucky, Bee)

EpicTale (Epic)

Bad sanses (Nightmare,Killer, Dust, Ted, Error, Cross)

Star sanses (Blue, Ink, Dream)

Multiverse sanses (Geno, Reaper, Cino, Fresh)

Now what you need to know to request!!

I'll write almost everything except for:

Ped0philia

R@pe

Incest

Extreme Gore

When you request, please specify these things:

The Skelies you want me to write

Platonic or romantic relationship

Reader's gender (I'll just write for gender neutral if there's no specific gender)

Specific skelie Groups for you to request :

The main skelies (Sans, Papyrus, Red, Edge, Sky, Honey, Berry, Cash, Rasp, Rus, Mal, Mutt, Wine and Coffee)

The original trio (Sans, Red and Sky)

The lazy six (Sans, Red, Honey, Cash, Mutt and Rus)

The energetic six (Papyrus,Edge, Sky, Berry, Mal and Rasp)

The swaped group (Sky, Honey, Berry, Cash, Mal, Mutt, Rasp, Rus, Wine and Coffee)

The Older Brother group (Sans, Red, Sky, Berry, Rasp, Mal and Wine)

The Younger Brother group (Papyrus, Edge, Honey, Cash, Rus, Mutt and Coffee)

Horror gang (Axe, Willow, Hound, Noir, Rot and Butch)

Space gang (Comet, Cosmo, Star, Meteor, Venus and Mars)

Mafia gang (Smoke, Spade, Hit, Boss, Lucky and Bee)

The Bad Sanses (Killer, Dust, Ted, Nightmare, Cross and Error)

Murder time trio (Killer, Dust and Ted)

The star Sanses (Dream, Ink and Blue)

The cool Sanses (Fresh, Epic and Cross)

The God Trio (Nightmare, Reaper and Error)

The omega timeline trio (Cino, Geno and Fresh)

Yes you can request a mix of skeletons who aren't in a specific group and yes you can request nsfw.

Yet I'm not writing any NSFW of the characters that I consider asexual (Willow, Spade).

When requesting, keep in mind that if the group is big (6 or more) you can only request that group, if the group is small (3 or 4) you can request two groups. Now if you want to request a mix of random skeletons, the max for them is 8.

If you'd like you can be a type of anon/traveler, by example 💀anon or 🔥anon!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that's it! I hope you stay and request something traveler!!

_____

Please do not repost any content from my blog.

#sans undertale #sans x reader #sans au #undertale #papyrus x reader #papyrus undertale #papyrus #undertale au #sans #papyrus au #masterlist

182 notes · View notes

thatdeadaquarius · 1 year ago

Note

GREETINGS! How are you doing? I've been practically gobbling up your posts (there very tasty)

Ok so hear me out- I've seen a couple posts like this but imagine-

The almighty all powerful wise creator isss

✨️A literal child✨️

Thanks for hearing me out! For you ->->❤️

Baby you taking on the world aw

DAMN SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!! i started fics before i answered my askbox :/

Aw i fucking love child reader stuff,

Lots of isekai animes/manhwa/manga do it and i eat that shit up everytime-

I also deeply appreciate when its not done creepily, like being turned 8 again, and having crushes on others who are... yknow, actually 8 yrs old or sm fucked up shit, like even if its 16 yr olds that doesnt make it any better, bc the protag will actually be like,, actually 20?!?!💀 the straights r wild man, i feel like it happens either way too, like its usually a male MC but thats just bc theyre more common tbh, like regardless of gender of protag 🥲

☆

Sun: Child God Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Short Headcanons

Stars: Mondstadt ppl bc i don't show them i love them enough

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment any I missed. /gen

Klee has recruited converted you to throwing bombs with her.

You are the only leash on that child too and the only thing standing between Jean and full head of gray hair. 💀

Kaeya doesn’t know whether he’s endlessly worried or endlessly amused that the most powerful god is currently a child

if Jean isnt freaking out over ur whereabouts, Diluc is instead, and worst case scenario, Noelle/Lisa/Albedo is in charge of you

and YES someone has to look out for you, bc ur ass will just start making a hot springs spot like ur in ur teapot or smth in dragonspine (Albedo was fascinated it stayed warm despite the weather so he let you make it/enjoy it before asking u to restore natural order lol)

(Albedo has definitely asked to study you and, unfortunately for Jean, asked u to demonstrate several powers u have)

You do work as a lucky charm for Bennett tho so he does babysit u sometimes

it mostly consists of Fischl, Benny, and Razor “adventuring” by trying to do smth like who can jump on the Anemo slimes and ride them around longest

(the answer is you btw, u managed to get a small fleet of them to bus you around, the teens were simultaneously terrified running around below u to catch you and also amazed)

Noelle is so happy making toddler you all the pancakes you can eat, Sucrose had to stop her from going overboard and not just listening completely to kids when it comes to food

She is now very concerned with making you a balanced diet, tho she will still make u an ungodly tall stack of pancakes every now and then <3

They kind of all equally provide for you, obv ur their god, and ur a literal cutie patootie child, they cant just leave you

(also u might like move a mountain or change the weather or smth if they don't watch you so most are a little paranoid of that too)

Lisa gets u all kinds of cute outfits, still stuff you'd like, but definitely snuck in some sumeru looking clothing lol

Fischl lends you all kinds of books to read, Bennett shows u all the cool views in the city and outside of it (when Jean lets him get away with taking u that far), and Razor…

Razor brings you to Andrius and the wolf pack for a wolf pack party and gives u all kinds of shiny trinkets he’d collected for you

Diluc/Jean/Noelle/Eula nearly had a heart attack when they found out

Amber lets you have all the piggyback rides you want lol

she even managed with her own crafting powers (and your probably editing the game code or smth) she somehow makes a reinforced glider with a small harness on the back for you to glide with her

(Venti has definitely helped for some fun flights by boosting the winds for you two)

SPEAKING OF BARBATOS

ur absolutely spoiled rotten by him (and Dvalin, and Andrius, and the wind sprites)

if this god had money he’d spend it on wine and you lol

takes u flying all the time, any time, would drop everything to go to Mondstadt wilds and use his archon form wings to take you wherever you wanna go

tries to bring u to Angel’s Share but Diluc nearly hits him on the head with a wine bottle and brings you back home after kicking Venti out and giving you grape juice (yes you get all you want, within a healthy amount)

anyway the most important part abt you being a god and child is that you can now fulfill your childhood dreams of riding a dragon whenever you want

(one way to quickly get Mondstadt citizens to trust Dvalin again was just constantly seeing him flying overhead, occasionally seeing a small child on his back also helped lol)

(neither you nor Venti tell Jean you ride Dvalin and keep it an active secret from her.)

☆

srry i took so long! i hope u liked my hot mess of writing (i think its even sloppier than usual bc of all the fic writing full sentences lately)

and if not, I'm sorrryyy 😭😭

I'm focusing on getting thru a haul of asks before getting around to posting that Eldritch AU Part 2 if anyone reads this :)

hope u guys are have a great weekend, thanks for all the birthday wishes!! :D

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

#genshin imagines #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin isekai #gender neutral reader #my asks #aqua asks #genshin impact sagau #sagau child reader #genshin child reader #genshin god reader #tiny burst of an ask bc that felt appropriate #more to come today and next few days #THANK YOU FOR THE ASK ANON <33 #:)

502 notes · View notes

goticapomposa · 7 days ago

Text

Red Wine supernova

Vi x Reader

I haven't written in a while and English is not my first language, I welcome suggestions and ideas🩷🩷🩷

another one of the stories inspired by Chappell Roan's songs, this time red wine supernova, I thought of more than one version of this one that I could write, if you want other versions of red wine supernova tell me, I made this one something shorter and more casual ting

The Reader is a little weird but Vi is totally in love with it☝️

MEN NOT ALLOWED⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

Red Wine Supernova

The thick fog of Zaun hung in the air, filled with the smell of rusty metal and smoke. The alleys were shadows swallowing up lost stories, but tonight, everything seemed different. Vi couldn’t tell if it was the cheap wine stolen from Vander’s bar or the way Reader smiled at her, as if she were a secret about to be revealed.

“I swear I saw a star,” Reader said, throwing her head back and staring at the polluted sky.

Vi laughed softly.

“Impossible. I can’t see anything here.”

But Reader just shook her head, her hair moving like a comet about to tear through the sky. She held a half-empty bottle, the dark liquid reflecting the few city lights. Her lips were tinted red from the wine, and Vi couldn’t tell if it was the drink’s fault or if they had always been that addictive shade.

“You don’t see it because you don’t want to see it. I see it.” — Reader closed her eyes, spinning in the middle of the empty street. Her worn dress spun with her, and Vi felt a pang in her chest. Reader didn't belong in a place like this. She was a beam of light where there was only darkness.

“You're drunk.”

“A little,” Reader admitted, tripping over her own feet before laughing.

Vi rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile. She walked over to Reader, holding her waist to keep her from falling.

“You're a problem.”

Reader opened her eyes and stared at Vi with that look that always dismantled her.

“You like that.”

Vi's heart thudded against her ribs. The smell of wine mixed with Reader's sweet perfume invaded her senses, and suddenly the world seemed too small.

“You're talking nonsense,” Vi grumbled, trying to ignore the heat rising in her face.

But Reader laughed again, leaning closer.

“Do you think I’m a star?”

Vi didn’t answer.

Reader touched Vi’s face gently, her cold fingers contrasting with her warm skin.

“I think you’re the whole sky,” Reader whispered.

And then, before Vi could process what was happening, Reader pressed her lips to hers. It was sweet and intoxicating, like a sip of forbidden wine, like a promise that should never be made. Vi felt her body react before her mind, grabbing Reader by the waist and pulling her closer.

The world spun around them, like a supernova about to explode.

When Reader pulled away, her smile was pure chaos.

“Vi… did you feel that?”

Vi took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way her hands were shaking.

“What?”

Reader took a step back, stretching her arms toward the sky.

— The explosion.

Vi stood there, standing in the middle of the deserted street, feeling the cold of the night against her skin, but it was impossible to feel anything other than the taste of Reader still on her lips. Her heart was racing, her mind a chaos, as if she had been caught in the middle of an exploding star.

Reader spun on the asphalt, her arms outstretched, her dress swirling with her, as if she were on a different planet, far away from Zaun.

“What was that?” Vi asked, her voice hoarse.

Reader stopped spinning, her eyes shining in the dim light of the streetlights. She tilted her head to the side, biting her lip, and Vi felt a shiver run down her spine.

“It was either the end of the world or the beginning of it,” Reader answered, as if it were obvious.

Vi snorted, trying to regain control of her breathing.

“Do you always say that weird shit when you drink?”

Reader laughed, walking towards Vi, her steps slow and measured. She stopped right in front of her, her big eyes fixed on Vi’s, as if she were seeing something that not even Vi knew existed.

“I only speak the truth,” Reader whispered, and Vi felt her entire body stiffen.

Because deep down, she knew. She knew it wasn’t just the wine, it wasn’t just the night, it wasn’t just Reader joking around like she always did. It was real. It always had been.

Vi looked away, crossing her arms, trying to ignore the lump forming in her throat.

“You’re a problem,” she repeated, but her voice came out softer this time.

Reader smiled, that mischievous smile that Vi knew so well.

“A beautiful problem,” she said, and Vi felt like laughing and screaming at the same time.

Before she could say anything, Reader grabbed her hand, slowly intertwining their fingers. Vi didn’t move.

“Let’s go.” Reader pulled her down the street, aimlessly.

Vi didn’t even ask where. She just went.

Because, deep down, I knew that any place with Leitora seemed like an entire universe.

The city around them seemed distant, as if Zaun had been left behind and all that existed was this moment, the deserted street and their hands intertwined. Vi could feel the heat of Reader’s fingers against hers, a light touch, but it burned more than any fight she had ever faced.

Reader walked ahead, guiding her as if she knew exactly where they were going. Vi should ask. She should say something. But deep down, she knew it was useless. Once Reader made up her mind, there was no way to change her mind.

So, she just kept going.

After a few minutes, Reader suddenly stopped. Vi almost bumped into her.

“Why did you stop?”

Reader looked around and then up. They were near an abandoned building, one of the many that Zaun had swallowed up over time. The concrete was cracked, the windows broken. Nothing seemed special here. But somehow, Reader looked at the place as if it were a portal to another world.

“I want to show you something,” she said, and pulled Vi inside. The building was dark, the smell of dust and rust filling the air.

Vi frowned. “If this is a plan to kill me, you’re going to need more than cheap wine, doll face.”

Reader laughed, shaking her head. “Trust me.”

She climbed an old staircase that creaked with every step. Vi followed, keeping her guard up, even though deep down she knew there was no danger here. Not the kind of danger she was used to, anyway.

When they reached the top, Reader pushed open a heavy door and made her way to the roof. The cold wind whipped against Vi’s face, but she barely noticed. Because the view… She blinked in surprise. Somehow, from up here, Zaun seemed smaller.

The lights of the factories flickered in the distance, and the fog that always enveloped the city seemed less suffocating. Lighter.

Reader walked to the edge, sitting down with her legs dangling in the air. She patted the concrete beside her, calling Vi over.

“Sit here. With me.”

Vi hesitated for a second, but then sat down next to her.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. They just stood there, looking out at the city.

“I used to come here when I was a kid,” Reader said after a while. “I always wanted to see beyond all this. Imagine what was out there.”

Vi turned to face her. Reader was still staring straight ahead, her wide eyes reflecting the dim light of the city.

“And what did you think you had?”

Reader smiled slightly.

“Stars.”

Vi felt her chest tighten.

Reader turned to her then, and Vi knew. She knew that this moment was different. That something between them had changed.

Reader leaned closer, her dark eyes analyzing every detail of Vi’s face.

“Did you feel it?” she whispered.

Vi's heart was pounding.

"What?"

Reader smiled, that mischievous, beautiful smile.

"The explosion."

And this time, Vi didn't try to run away.

This time, she just held Reader's face with both hands and kissed her.

The world around her disappeared. There was no Zaun, there was no dust, there was no danger. There was only Reader, the taste of wine on her lips, the soft touch of her fingers on the back of Vi's neck.

A supernova.

When they pulled away, Reader smiled against Vi's lips.

"Now you see?"

Vi laughed, leaning her forehead against hers.

"I see."

And for the first time in her life, she believed that stars could be born in Zaun.

I hope you liked it, if you want the other versions of red wine supernova tell me!

What song should I do next? Do you guys have any ideas?

#arcane #arcane vi x reader #arcane x you #vi arcane #vi arcane x reader #vi league of legends #vi x oc #vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #red wine supernova #chappell roan #Spotify

55 notes · View notes