#i can’t think of anymore arcane examples

[sweetbananachips]

people’s inability to understand that some ships are shipped BECAUSE they’re toxic will be the death of me

[honey-tongued-devil]

Got a request: Jinx x Piltover reader who comes to the undercity a lot to see some action and excitement with Jinx thinking they’re from there only to find out that they’re from topside.

[Arcane preference zaunites] with a s/o from Piltover (viktor, ekko, silco, vander, jinx, vi, sevika)

In less than a week, I’ve gained 500 followers and over 20 requests, so I’ll ask you right away to please be patient. English isn’t my first language, and I don’t think I’ll be able to post more than two or three headcanons a week (since I also draw). I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I just ask for a little patience. In the meantime, if you’d like to support me, you can follow me HERE (bluesky) even though I haven’t started posting seriously yet, or you can leave a tip HERE. That said, enjoy!

Viktor:

- The most versatile on the subject. He’s the first one who is constantly around the people of Piltover, studying and having his room at the academy, which is even located in a wealthy area.

- Generally, he doesn’t pay much attention to someone’s origins, but as the relationship grows more serious, memories of his early academy years become more vivid.

- Viktor is a chill guy, until he’s no longer chill, (at least the original one).

- Most heated discussions are likely to revolve around politics or events in the city. But as long as you don’t call the people from the Undercity “beasts,” “creatures,” “monsters,” “beings,” or “animals,” his anger won’t be directed at you.

- At some point, he won’t remember anymore that you’re from “different neighborhoods,” and since he needs a hand carrying things to the academy, he’ll start asking you to accompany him to the Undercity when he needs to make purchases or pick up pre-ordered items.

- And although it might scare or intimidate you at first, it won’t take long for you to get used to it.

- Although sooner or later, you’ll learn to change your clothes before going down to Zaun.

Ekko:

- The first meeting with Ekko is straight out of a book: you get caught in a crossfire, and before you can even begin mentally writing your will, an arm grabs you around the torso and pulls you away at such a high speed that you feel like throwing up.

- He can’t take people directly to the hideout, but he can offer you assistance as soon as you’re somewhere safer.

- This is why, the second time he saves you, he can’t help but joke about how it almost seems like you put yourself in danger on purpose, and that you could ask him out in a less dramatic way.

- Of course, he’s just joking to break the tension, but when you actually propose it, even just as a way to repay him, it’s the beginning of the end.

- Between your outfit and the fact that, having run into you twice in a crossfire, you were in some pretty dangerous places, the last thing he expected was for you to ask him to meet up at the bridge and then show up dressed like a Piltie.

- Before his meeting with Cait and the one with Jayce, this would’ve been a breaking point; he wouldn’t have shown up and would’ve just gone back. But now, even if he’s not thrilled, he’ll at least come over to complain that you didn’t tell him you were from the upper city.

- He’s resigned to this fate, but he still remains a bit suspicious and on guard, not knowing your political stance, why you were down there, or how you see the people from his city.

- Even as you become closer, he’ll never stop teasing you about your background. You’re drinking, and you drop your cup? “What a strange way Pilties have of drinking.”

Vander:

- Going down to Zaun without stopping by the Last Drop is a waste, which is why you’re lucky enough to run into the Hound of the underground right away. Not only is he one of the most influential people, but also one with a lot of connections.

- At Vander’s suggestion, you stay at the counter, and he uses the opportunity to ask you a few questions, curious: for example, why is someone from Piltover down in Zaun alone at that hour? What do you study, if you study, or what do you do for work, if you work.

- Vander is extremely sociable, and since he handles negotiations, he doesn’t hold hostility toward upper-city residents, though it’s rare to see them in these parts.

- It’s not even about flirting; he just wants to keep chatting and make sure he won’t have you on his conscience. He asks you to wait until closing, checks in on the kids to make sure everything’s okay and says goodnight, then walks you to the bridge.

- The more regular your visits to Zaun become, the more the other regulars at the Last Drop start to recognize you and get used to you, making that place quite pleasant. And then there’s the deal with the bartender: if you offer him a good chat, he’ll treat you to a good pint of beer.

- The toughest part of getting close to Vander is learning that he’s a single father to four kids, and seeing the hostile and shocked reaction of the younger ones when they find out you’re not from their city.

- But hate is taught, and even if it takes some time, they slowly start to get used to you. Maybe they won’t jump into your arms, but if you decide to stay over, they’ll make room for you or bring you something to dry your face with, in strict silence.

Silco:

- This man, though he may not look like it, is the embodiment of patience.

- It’s his goons who bring you to his office, and the first time, all it takes is a quick glance for him to know you’re not a spy, a rival, a drug addict, or a threat.

- Silco kills, but generally not without reason. So, the first time you have a heart-pounding panic attack from being dragged there, you get off with a warning: if they catch you poking around his business again, it won’t go so well for you.

- But today, Janna’s on your side, and you’re safe.

- The issue is much simpler than it seems: if you live in the Undercity, you know which places to avoid and which gangs control which areas. But if you’re just a foolish Piltie who likes wandering outside your own city, the odds of ending up in one mess after another are high.

- That’s why, the second time they catch you near one of their shipments, his goons already have their weapons drawn.

- This time it’s not even Silco who spares you; instead, a firefight with the Firelights breaks out nearby, and you’re just lucky that bigger problems show up at the right moment.

- It happens repeatedly: either you run into his goons and instinctively wave like an idiot, or you end up in restricted areas, and one of them who’s taken a liking to you motions for you to leave, or you start frequenting the Last Drop and see them all more often.

- Gradually, this brings you more often—and with less dread—to the kingpin’s office, who, since even his daughter likes you, first makes sure to get you a map of the Lanes because “you’re obviously so clueless you must be from Piltover” to keep you from getting yourself killed.

- Then he realizes you’re pleasant enough to let you hang out in his office on weekends, when the noise downstairs is so loud that he couldn’t work anyway.

Jinx:

- You’re essentially the “dumb Piltie” stereotype that comes to mind when people in Zaun talk about those from the upper city.

- Deciding to venture into the alleys without any experience or knowledge of the area purely out of curiosity wasn’t your brightest idea, but at this point, it’s too late to turn back.

- That’s why, after hours spent looking for something interesting—colorful explosions that have been common recently near the docks, some chase scenes—you find nothing, give up, and throw yourself into a bar.

- If it were evening, you might hope for more than just a jukebox playing country music, four young guys playing pool in a corner, and a girl sitting at the bar who looks half-asleep while the bartender cleans glasses, but you still decide to sit down and order something local.

- Everyone’s eyes are on you, but the moment the girl with long blue braids lifts her head, the others snap back to what they were doing, and she looks at you, still drowsy and a bit confused.

- Meeting Jinx is the beginning of the end; she rambles on, is relaxed, and the moment she hears you wanted action, she jumps off her stool and drags you out before you can even sip your drink.

- She has no particular reason—it's just rare to find someone who wants to have fun, although you quickly realize that her idea of “fun” involves risking your neck.

- The first time ends like that; you don’t even exchange names. When it gets late, she vanishes, leaving you no choice but to return to the bar in the following weeks, where you meet her again and pick up on that fun “tour.”

- This “tour” brings you closer, even if you never talk about deeply personal things because there’s never time.

- It’s one night when you’re sitting together on a rooftop, watching the distant lights of Piltover, that she learns the hard truth: you’re from the other side of the river. This single piece of information seems to destroy everything you had built. Without a word, she runs off, and you don’t find her at the bar at the usual time anymore, but you don’t stop trying.

- The bartender probably tells her, or she sees you, who knows, because weeks later you meet again, and she almost looks sad to see you.

- She expected you to give up, not to keep coming back despite how difficult she’d made it, which is why when you pull her into a hug, she stiffens, taking a while to hug you back.

- The closer you get, the more she becomes like a ghost. You even find her at your place, but you never see her on the streets in Piltover. She rarely stays over, but you know it’s because of personal issues.

Vi:

- Vi isn’t for everyone: she’s for those with a “savior complex” or hotheads who can take a couple of punches to the face.

- The reason you’re in Zaun, dressed incognito, is because your colleagues told you there’s some interesting stuff in the underground city’s shops.

- What you didn’t expect was that the “interesting find” curled up behind an abandoned building would be a person.

- Nothing too serious, just a brawl gone wrong. She’d hidden to tend to her wounds in peace, probably in that vulnerable “cornered wolf showing its teeth” state.

- Cooperation isn’t her strong suit, and, not to rely on Undercity stereotypes, but you imagine it’s also rare for anyone to help strangers wounded on the street.

- She becomes more docile after you simply stand by, “covering her back”—basically just staying put and shielding her from view. 

- whenyou blurt out, “Forget gin; I need something stronger.” she starts to like you

- Once she recovers, she gestures for you to follow her, suddenly motivated by the urge to drink. Surprisingly, she takes you over the bridge to your own city, to a cozy pub that smells of wood.

- Drinking there becomes a habit; after a few drinks, you tell her you hate that the evening has to end, and she chuckles, flattered, before saying you can always do it again.

- And you do it again.

- You keep doing it until you end up kissing clumsily in the pub’s restroom, nearly knocking heads together, until she pins you to the wall and your brain signals a warning.

- You tell her you live nearby, suggesting you take things to your place, unknowingly revealing something you thought was obvious.

- She stares at you for a few confused seconds. “You didn’t tell me,” she says, but the truth is, Vi doesn’t hate upper-city people, so once the confusion passes, the alcohol and hormones work their magic, leaving that conversation as a problem for the next morning.

Sevika:

- Her only interactions with people from the upper city have been with Enforcers, but contrary to appearances, Sevika is a big, intimidating dog that’s actually quite tame.

- She doesn’t get her hands dirty unless necessary, so even though she has no fondness for Pilties, she’d never start a physical fight with one.

- You first see her in the Undercity, at the Last Drop, playing cards for a hefty sum of money against two shady types: one bald with a metal nose, and the other dressed like an out-of-place gentleman.

- It’s only when the game ends and she gets up to head to the bar that you clumsily manage to strike up a conversation, receiving nothing but a scrutinizing glance in return.

- She lets you buy her a drink despite the large sum she just pocketed, and when you compliment her on her play, she puffs up with pride and starts talking about how those two just cheated but still couldn’t win.

- For a moment—just a moment—she realizes she’s never seen you around here before, but then she goes back to talking and listening, fueled by the alcohol.

- Getting her out of your head becomes impossible, and if you catch her at the end of her shift, she’s even more relaxed. It doesn’t take many weeks before you find yourself with your knees over her shoulders in the Last Drop’s basement.

- Emotional or mental intimacy with Sevika comes at an incredibly slow pace, but she starts approaching you in the bar, and your “private encounters” become more and more frequent—until you try to make things more serious by inviting her up.

- Her reaction seems angry, but it’s more surprise; she hadn’t realized and didn’t expect it.

- She becomes a lot more guarded around you, until, in time, she learns to trust you again.

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

I think what it is is that the heart of Arcane has changed as of right now. What’s guiding the plot isn’t character dynamics anymore, it’s just plot. It’s not Vi and Jinx or Jinx and Caitlyn or Mel and Ambessa or Ekko and Jinx or Silco and Jinx or Vi and Vander or Jayce and Viktor or Mel and Jayce or even Caitlyn and Vi. There are hints of all of those things, yes, but they weren’t hints in season one, they were driving forces. The characters don’t feel like people as much anymore and their relationships suffer from that.

Edit: I wrote this after act I and I feel this even more after act ii. There is so much intimacy missing this season. The interpersonal conflicts are lacking so hard and I feel like the plot isn’t even heavy enough for the sacrifice to be so great. That’s why we’re missing the importance of characters like Ekko and Vi who are so driven by their care for other people. I’ll come back to this draft once act iii airs.

From season one, I can tell you that this is a tale of two sisters. From season two… I don’t know what’d I’d say.

Edit post act iii: I have to say, regarding this, Act III is the best. I really didn’t hate the focus on Jayce and Viktor and the Arcane considering that’s the name of the show and this is the most consistent and well thought out storyline stretching from s1 to s2, but I do have my gripes with Mel being so disconnected from this story despite her also having the Arcane within her and being a main player in Hextech in s1. The black rose s1 set up was a complete fumble imo. Either do it well or don’t do it at all.

This act felt a lot more propelled by the relationships in this show. What I loved about Arcane s1 is that it’s not just a bunch of people within a plot but a bunch of people making the plot. Things aren’t just happening to them, they are actively making them happen. This cast in s1 is how you write real, good and well thought out plot devices. They’re all elements of a narrative that feel so so real.

Episode seven being the best episode of the season is such a good example of this. We get to see the characters we love in the story we love. We get to see the consequences of the characters existing (or not). We also have an Ekko centric episode which is just the cherry on top.

Act II wasn’t too bad in the relationship propelling the story aspect with Jinx, Vi and Vander (and Isha). But they barely lasted and the Warwick we saw in act III was so obviously not Vander that it felt kind of meh. And Isha felt empty to me, sorry. She should have lasted longer but she would have no significant part to play in act III. She was just TOO MUCH of a plot device to me.

The fact that we got ONE Silco hallucination and it was in act III is another reason why I feel like it’s better in this way. I know Jinx was getting healthier and whatnot, but in act I we didn’t see any hallucinations at all after her literally killing Silco and really leaning into the Jinx persona which felt a little off.

Erm not to talk about the lesbians but I’m gonna do that lmao. This season was so wishy washy we them. We got what we wanted but not how we wanted it. Their characters were kinda fumbled (Caitlyn less so) so thereby, their relationship felt a little fumbled. I think them ending their respective storylines separately is fine, but having them hardly be intertwined felt off. And even the final scene with them felt a little empty. Like of course they’ll forever be together but that can’t be it. There’s so much more to CaitVi than that. I feel like they’re missing the “despite it all……”, even tho it was implied pretty well I suppose. Idk, just a little unsatisfied with the “Dirt Under Your Nails” line.

TLDR; this show is made up of characters and relationships that make the story move forward and I feel like s2 was lacking in this in comparison to s1.

[quacaserous]

If you haven't talked abt it before, what are your durges relationship w Orin like? Did they feel any vestiges of those emotions past when confronting her post-tadpoling?

OK you didnt specify which durge u were talking about so im just gonna spill the tea on all 3 👀

pre-tadpole cassius & orin are essentially attached at the hip (like you actually would not see one walking without the other @ the temple) (woo codedependency! /sarc). there’s always been a kind of (not) subtle power imbalance between them what with durge being put up on a pedestal since they were a child but, at least in their youth, he treats her as close to an equal as his ego lets him & orin, discarded as unimportant/a dead weight by near everyone else at the temple, BASKS in it. that is, until gortash comes into cassius’ life, slowly ‘stealing him away’ over the course of about a decade until there’s near nothing left of the brother she once knew. he’s distant and patronizing and self-important and orin doesn’t understand why he doesn’t love her anymore & all that hurt and jealousy turns into resentment on both ends :)

post-tadpole cass doesn’t feel any of the fondness he once might’ve harbored for his sister. he sees her as a nuisance/obstacle in his way, a traitor, an example of what will happen to him should he fail father once more.

—

pre-tadpole cerys and orin’s dynamic is very much like. “i know you like the back of my hand and so i know how best to hurt you”. there are some elements of sisterly love in there, there’s an aknowledgement that they’re the only ones in the world that can understand the other but bhaal’s favoritism (& later enver’s involvement in isolating cerys from the temple) really strains that bond. cerys feels pressured to always be the best bc shes Daddy’s Special Little Princess™️ and orin takes it very personally. she thinks cerys is taking all of this for granted and decides hey, she deserves father’s love more than her betrayer sister!

post-tadpole cerys would have sacrificed herself to save and redeem orin if she could’ve, she feels no anger towards the betrayal. seeing orin so violated by the slayer transformation absolutely broke her because she knows exactly what it feels like to have your hand forced. she sits and cradles orin’s remains after the duel, apologizing for not being able to save her.

—

pre-tadpole saber like. almost disregards orin, not even out of self-centeredness but bc as little as she knows her, she cant stand to see orin losing herself to the madness saber knows she can’t pull her out of because orin doesn’t want to be saved. but in that same breath saber can’t afford to be weak, can’t afford to get attached to somebody, because she’ll still have to kill them in the end. saber is torn between feelings of familiarity & disdain towards orin, who simply takes it as saber being arrogant. the “what in the grey wastes are we going to do with you, little sister?” diary entry/note from durge is a huge catalyst in orin’s betrayal, physical proof of saber’s ‘hubris’

post-tadpole saber (in arcane vi & jinx fashion), hope on hope, begs orin to leave the temple with her, to let saber take her away from all of this before it consumes her. when she refuses, saber doesn’t blame herself for not being able to save orin from her demise, she knows there’s nothing more she could’ve done, but the look on orin’s face when she’s forced to transform haunts her long after the fact ❤️

[ronwestbreeze]

omg, hi! i just saw some posts you reblogged and i agree so much with that. even though i really like wolfstar, i feel so bad for tonks, people just discard her and treat her like she doesn’t exist. jegulus is something i hate, i can’t stand this ship, and in most things people put lily like a villain, like THAT’S MY PRECIOUS FLOWER WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? and another example of this is arcane, omg, i think the idea of viktor and jayce is nice, but i was so mad when people just forgot mel, jayce loves that woman!!! they were literally one of my favs ships on that show.

oh my, sorry for all this😬😬

hope you have a beautiful day!🌟

you literally voiced all the words i was thinking when I reblogged that

with wolfstar and jegulus, I would've liked the two ships if the fans weren't toxic and male-brained obsessed to the point where they hate on people who don't happen to like either ship. like you're saying you can't respect someone who happens to ship remadora?? i think some people forget that these headcanons for these characters--as much as we don't like jkr--aren't canon. They're just that. Headcanons. But because a few headcanons are a bit more popular than most, they see it as the gospel for their fandom and reject anything that contrasts that.

Then there's jegulus that just completely doesn't make any sense and I HATE that they just sideline lily or call jily boring and underdeveloped. It's just so hypocritical. You can come up with character arc headcanons for jegulus/wolfstar but you can't do that for the female characters or w/w relationships you claim to love so much?

It's just one of the many reasons I'm not dabbling in that fandom anymore. Oversaturation and just plain misogyny.

And do not even get me started on how jayviks have been treating mel for since season 1. Again, another ship I would've been fine with if the fans weren't trying so hard to erase mel's impact on jayce or mischaracterizing both jayce and viktor to claim they hated/didn't care about her when that is far from true.

I could go on an entire rant but I think a lot of people have already said what I've been thinking haha.

[mataglap]

I forgot how it feels to get inspired to write. to actually have the words spill out of your brain instead of wringing them painfully out.

maybe I should start writing down those little random scenes that pop up in my head before they fade away?

anyway, I’ve been playing Diablo IV, and I like Lorath Nahr, and considering the tone and the general direction of the game I’m absolutely sure he’s going to get killed or worse, so I’m going to write down this scene before he dies and it makes me too sad to write.

and yes, I’m playing a sorcerer.

---

It does not take arcane powers to know that he's being watched. He can almost feel it on his skin, sliding over the back of his neck and his shoulders, down his spine, like a warm, curious touch.

"You're not being subtle," he says without turning around.

"It was not my intention to be."

"Fair enough." Lorath can appreciate honesty. Not that it's going to change much. "I can't offer you anything, though. Sorry."

"There's no need. You've already given me enough."

And that's that; he could drop the subject now and he's reasonably sure it would never come up again. That is, if his blasted curiosity didn't get the best of him.

He gives the stew another stir. Needs more time: the spoon doesn't quite stand up on its own yet. "How come?" he asks, turning around. Wipes his hands with a rag, just to have something to do with them.

The mage regards him though half-lidded eyes. "Given recent events," he says slowly, "I've learned to treasure every feeling that isn't rage, or pain, or fear."

That's… fair. And way too wise for someone who looks this young. Lorath hasn't asked his age yet, and at this point it doesn't matter: the shit he's seen would turn anyone old. Not that it shows on the outside. To all appearances, his new friend seems unshaken by the string of horrors Lilith's been leaving in her wake.

It could be a good thing. It could also be very bad.

"I wonder," he says, making eye contact. "How are you this calm? The things you witnessed leave a mark on the soul. You’ve met Donan, you know what I mean. I expected you to be a wreck, and here you are, boots on my bloody table and not a care in the world."

The mage smiles faintly, and for a second Lorath thinks he's going to actually take the boots off the table – but no, the bastard just deliberately recrosses his legs. It's hard not to smirk at that. He's always had a weakness for people who didn't take any of his shit.

"If I share the secret with you, you will owe me a secret in return."

The curiosity is going to be the end of him, one day. "As long as it's a secret of my choosing."

"Deal." The mage's gaze slides off him and unfocuses. "You're right. I don't know if I'd be myself anymore if I didn't learn to… It's hard to explain."

Lorath turns to the stew. "Take your time. Food's going to be a while."

The pause is long enough to stir the stew thoroughly. He keeps stirring.

"When I find myself surrounded by horror," the mage says finally, "the kind that threatens to shatter the soul… I cast a part of my mind elsewhere, to some good memory, or perhaps a dream. And a part of me pretends I'm not there at all. And I cling to that with all the strength I can muster."

"Hah. You're lucky to have good memories."

"Nonsense. Everyone has good memories. Take this moment, for example: you're warm, dry and safe, and you have a pot of stew that is going to be delightful, if the smell is any indication. You have a friend to talk to and to eat with. This is a happy memory in the making."

That's way too earnest for Lorath's taste. "Assuming I don't burn the stew or set the place on fire," he mutters, uncomfortable. "So what you're saying is, the next time you're knee-deep in guts, a part of you is going to think of the time you stared at my arse while I cooked you dinner?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying."

It's the first time he's heard the wanderer laugh. Sucks that there's a good chance it's also going to be the last.

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

Hi, first off that outfit swap drawing that @recoveredslushie made is AMAZING! I really liked how Arcane egg was drawn, especially the interpretation of their outfit. And so I’ve been inspired to draw some Arcane egg, this time they’re spooky~! More specifically what they look like in their monstrous revenant form. Here they are.

First off I must say that’s not the final version of her monster form, just a quick doodle so I could get an idea down. Next is some explanation / ideas! So as we all know Arcane egg isn’t a regular cookie anymore, as such her body can do some weird fckin things now. For example she can just snap her neck, and just do the creepiest shit with it. And she can’t really feel it, she can still feel pain of course… it’s more like she can choose to feel pain or not. Which is neat!

And she can do this with of her limbs, they can also reattach limbs and even “grow” them back. And as seen by the cracks on the first doodle when either really stressed, and I mean REALLY stressed or when transforming cracks will appear. They also bleed a black inky substance when this happens, which leads to the monster form. They get much taller and lankier in this form, I didn’t do a good job showing this off unfortunately. But yeah from the cracks that form the black ooze bleeds out and helps make her monster form. Arcane isn’t too aware of their actions in this form, especially if they don’t have an anchor. As a result this form can be quite destructive when the truth of it is, it’s really scared. Just like Arcane egg.

Btw, Arcane egg just hates this form, it scares her immensely. She sorta despises herself because of it, that and other reasons.

Anyways let me know what you think! See ya!

She looks so cool!!! I love it when the horrors and creatures. Though I have to wonder, does Arcane Egg ever get phantom pains from past injuries when they choose to feel pain? Have they ever hurt someone badly in this monstrous form? I'm rather curious to know.

Anyways keep up the good work! I enjoy seeing stuff about Arcane Egg immensely.

[largemandrill]

WELL TOO BAD IM GIVING YOU A FANDOM ASK LMAO

D, F, S, W (if you don't have five fandoms just pick the ones you like hehe)

If I had a nickel for everytime a fandom ask meme from a mutual was delivered in a semi-threatening way, I’d have at least a couple (I am bad at math)

Cut because it got a bit long.

D- A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t

Do you know how much it hurts to not fuck with the only (important) canon mlm couple in Inquisition? I love Dorian as a character, and I also like Iron bull, but them together is a personal ick. They constantly coast on the line between flirting and harassment and I don’t personally jive with that. It’s a fine ship I just can’t bring myself to be a full supporter. There’s not even a ship I like more for either of them it’s just a squick thing.

F- What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom

Time isn’t real, but doing the math in my head, I think I was stuck in my jjba phase the longest. I’m not checking because looking at the posts I made as a 15 year old hurt to remember, but I think I was stuck in there for like 4 years. Good for my artistic journey but horrible for fandom etiquette lessons.

S- Show us an example of your personal headcanon

This one is phrased a little awkwardly, so I’m just gonna say what my most common headcanon tends to be. The transgender ray. If I relate to a man in a piece of media, he’s not cis anymore. Simple rules. There is nothing more powerful than adding top surgery scars to fanart with no elaboration.

W- 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms

I assure you friend, I have plenty of fandoms I simple just refuse to post about. There is a notable difference between character who is my favorite and character who is hot, so I’ll try to stay away from just lite-horny posting.

Elden ring: Not the guy in my icon surprisingly. I am a Rogier supporter to the end. My favorite dead boyfriend in a fromsoftware game. There’s something so magical about watching him fail in such avoidable ways. I also like how he’s one or three guys who are doomed no matter what you do. Dead divorced man club remains strong.

Dragon age: Anders. I have many thoughts about the man but they all boil down to “he was right”. He did nothing wrong because he is my little princess and I hold him accountable for nothing.

Dungeon Meshi: Chilchuck (can you tell that I like sad men yet) He’s the most proper voice of reason in the main gang, but☝️ that doesn’t mean he’s the most normal. Also the teen dad trope speaks to me for some reason.

Jjba: I will present to you my only piece of jojo merch

Arcane: I don’t post about Arcane like at all but know that I have been a Jayce supporter since 2021 and have never once doubted him.

[heartfairy]

The Gift

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

❥ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: “Vi decides to give you a beautiful gift, something you’ll remember for a long time. If not forever.”

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff + smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 3,4k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: established relationship, playfulness, happy tears, domestic stuff, shower sex, thigh riding, fingering, lots and lots of kisses, lots of cuddles. first half of the fic is fluffy and the second half is just fluffy smut.

⟶ A/N: a soft smutty fic, as usual. just so you know I have 3 other fic ideas that I am currently writing… I promise you. you’re not getting rid of me just yet! If I’m being honest this is a soft filler fic before the OVERFLOWING tooth rotting fluffy smut part you’ll get afterwards. I hope you enjoy this uwu

⟶ previous post • masterlist • next post

Vi knows basically everything about you. Since you both started off as close friends to best friends to lovers… it’s kinda required. At least that’s how she feels about it.

She knows that you’re very sensitive and have some occasional sensory issues. How you love with your whole heart, or hate something like your life depends on it. The colour orange for example, you can’t really explain why but you don’t like it. Unless it’s peachy and pastel yellowy orange, that’s how you’d say it. Neon orange, the worst colour that exists. She knows you have a soft spot for plushies, you’d always be happy with a plushie of your favourite animals or character. You’ll never get enough of owning them either. Even if the bedroom is filled with them.

You love cute things. Pastel colours, especially lilac, baby pink, light blue, mint or light green. You despise spiders, you yell the other direction as you beg her to take care of it, thinking about it makes her laugh. She knows you like to read books during your free time, getting lost between the pages. You also love sunsets and sunrises. You love heart shaped things, clouds and flowers or plants.

To summarise it, she just knows you through and through, just like you know Vi better than herself sometimes.

Violet also remembers very vividly when she first moved in as your roommate that you told her that you’d love to adopt a kitten or a cat someday. To make you feel less lonely. You probably never adopted one because Vi moved into the apartment at the beginning of you getting the place.

She knows you’re not lonely anymore, but she can’t help but think about it either. You’re obsessed with cats, and she knows that they are one of your favourite animals.

So one day, she decided to get you one. She’s been secretly researching and buying all the essentials a cat would need. Such as a litter box, food and some toys. Vi would like to think that you have no idea of her plan. She is very adamant on keeping this a surprise as long as she can.

It is the evening, you finally enter the apartment while you yawn. You just came back from your work, your art studio. You didn’t bother to call out that you came home because usually you’re the first one that’s done with working. Dropping the keys next to the little side cabinet next to the door, you quickly take off your scarf, beanie and your jacket. You hang it on the peg before making your way to the living room.

You let yourself fall on the couch the moment you reach it. You moan while closing your eyes as you feel yourself sink into the cushions, feeling your body relax. You enjoy the silence for a while until you hear a crash coming from the hallway.

You open your eyes and frown, you thought you were all alone. “Vi?” You shout as you stand up, making your way towards the sound.

You hear a muffled “Yeah” coming from the spare bedroom. The one Vi used to sleep in before your relationship became romantic. You hear her shuffle before you hear her lock the room, making you gasp.

“What are you doing there?” You laugh.

“It’s a surprise!” She yells back at you.

You shake your head in disbelief, “Come on Vi, please open the door.”

“Not yet, be patient please!”

“You know I hate when people are being secretive,” you say teasingly, loud enough for her to hear.

You hear shuffling again “Baby, you know I’d only keep secrets from you if it’s to surprise you,” you hear her say, her voice a lot louder than before. You realise that she’s next to the door.

“I know,” you grumble.

You hear the door unlock, there’s a moment of silence before she opens the door just slightly too peek her head out. Her hair looks dishevelled, messy. You see that her face is flushed. It's a funny sight, seeing your girlfriend like this. You giggle as she looks at you.

“Are you making fun of me? I am literally peeking my head out just to say hello to my girlfriend,” she complains with a hint of playfulness. “I guess you don’t deserve my surprise.”

“No! I’m sorry.” You say quickly as you try to stop laughing.

“Alright, since you’re trying to be good for me… you can see what my surprise is,” she says as she opens the door just slightly so you can slip inside. “But first, close your eyes.”

You smile mischievously before you try to look serious again, closing your eyes for her.

“And no peeking!” Vi says because she knows how curious and impatient you can be.

“Okay,” you say, keeping your eyes closed. You hear the door slide open for you and seconds later you feel her take both of your hands in hers. Guiding you inside the room you hear a tiny meow. You gasp loudly, thinking you already know what her surprise is.

You hear Vi curse under her breath making you bite your lip. “You can open your eyes now,”

You slowly open your eyes and find a tiny black kitten lying on a little blanket on the bed. You feel your heart melt at the sight, as she meows again. All your attention is on the cute little creature in front of you. You can feel Vi’s eyes on you as you approach the kitten on the bed, they sit up and crawl to your direction. Sitting down on the bed the fluffy little thing tries to get on your lap.

You feel your eyes well up with tears while the kitten purrs lightly as you caress their back. You can’t believe this. Tears roll down your cheek as you coo at the little kitten lying in your lap. You look up, meeting Vi’s eyes seeing her look at you with so much warmth.

“Is this for me?” You say through sobs.

She walks closer to you sitting next to you, instantly wrapping an arm around you. You lean your head against her shoulder as you nuzzle against her.

“Yes of course, she’s all yours.” She whispers, kissing the top of your head.

“Ours,” You reply quickly.

Vi smiles as you continue to cry softly against her. Vi pats her lap and you pick up the kitten gently in your hands and Vi wraps her arms around you, picking you up and moving your body onto her lap. She places her head in the crook of your neck as she hugs you closer to her body while you pet the kitten in your own lap.

“What are you going to name her?” She says against your ear.

“Kiki,” you say without thinking.

“Kiki? Like your fave little Animal Crossing character?”

She feels you nod against her “Yes, like the black cat in Animal Crossing.”

Vi chuckles “Why?” She asks, knowing the answer already.

“Because she’s a black kitty with big yellow-greenish eyes just like Kiki and because Kiki is my favourite.” You say as you look up at her with a big smile on your face.

Vi leans up to press a soft kiss to your temple, making you feel all warm inside. You feel yourself melt against her. “Perfect name for a beautiful kitty.”

“Perfect just like you,” You say as tears well up in your eyes again and you lean up to press a soft kiss to her lips. “Thank you.” You whisper against her lips.

“Anything for you, princess.” She says before kissing you again. You both kiss languidly for a while, just enjoying each other’s company and love for one another. After some time you hear the kitten meow. She pulls away first, both of you looking down at the little kitten on your lap.

“I think it’s time for dinner.” You say happily, wiping your tears off your face.

“I guess so, let’s make some dinner then.” Vi says with a huge smile on her face.

——

After dinner is over, you’re cleaning the dishes as Vi is playing with the kitten in the living room. You still can’t believe she gifted you a kitten. You’re truly over the moon.

As you’re cleaning, your mind is drifting off elsewhere. You’re daydreaming about the domestic life you have with Vi and you feel your heartbeat faster as you think about her. You don’t hear Vi approaching you, so lost in your own thoughts.

Arms wrap around you slowly making you yelp in surprise. She chuckles against your neck at your reaction, “So deep in thought that you didn’t hear me come into the kitchen, baby?” She knew you too well.

“Yeah…” you whisper.

You feel her delicate lips tracing the length of your neck, pressing soft kisses down your neck onto your shoulder. You smile when her hands slide across your stomach to keep you close against her chest.

“I love you,” you murmur, tempted to drop everything you’re doing to wrap your arms around her.

“I love you too, missed ya.”

You continue to clean the last plate in your hands until it’s done. Afterwards you’re cleaning the sink with soap making it shine. You smile as you turn around in her embrace, wrapping your arms around her quite quickly.

“You know… I missed you too today.” You whisper, your lips ghosting against hers for a second before your lips meet in a gentle kiss. For a while you’re both just kissing, enjoying the feeling of each other.

You pull away from her but not before giving her lips a quick peck. “I’m gonna shower.” You say as you walk away.

“Oh—”

“Are you coming?” You say with a playful tone.

Vi looks at you with wide eyes for a moment until she composes herself, taking the hand that is holding out for her. You pull her to the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

You’re leaning against the door of the bathroom looking at her while you bite your lip. She looks so hot, she always does. You walk towards her as she smirks at you, grabbing the collar of her hoodie, bringing her lips down to your mouth.

“I want to undress you,” you whisper against her lips. She moans against you as you tug at her sweatpants.

“Only if I can undress you.” She says teasingly.

“Yes, please do.”

You undress each other quickly, while you both continue to kiss each other passionately. Violet seems determined to devour you whole, determined to make the most of this desperate kiss.

Once both of your bras and underwear are off, she pulls away slightly as her hands caress the length of your arms, admiring your body. “You’re so pretty. So beautiful.” She says as she’s caressing the side of your face, she tilts your chin, her lips ghosting against yours. She slowly glides her lips over yours, nudging them open. You part your lips wider, urging her to kiss you more, deeper, because all you want to do is give.

You whine against her lips as you feel her hands move from your neck to your waist, all the way to your ass. You pull away slowly, her pupils are dilated and she licks her lips before she squeezes the flesh of your ass in her hands.

“F-fuck, Vi.” You moan as you pull yourself away from her hold. “We should get in…”

Vi stares at you hungrily for a while before her gaze drifts to the shower. “Good idea,” she says smiling cheekily.

You quickly step into the shower with one foot and reach for the shower handle, turning the shower on. Once you step out of the shower, you feel her hands around your waist again, pulling you closer as she leans down her head to kiss your neck.

You giggle at her affection, knowing that Vi can never get enough of you. You pull away again as you notice the water is heating up. Stepping into the shower, you sigh as the warm water falls on you, the steam already relaxing your muscles. You turn to face the water, closing your eyes as you let it run off the back of your scalp, your hands coming up to rub over your face.

Soon, you feel the front of her body against your back. Her hands are sliding against your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to her. You can feel your breath growing shaky as you respond to her movements, turning your body around in her embrace. Your arms encircling the back of her neck, your lips leaning up towards hers.

She gladly meets your lips halfway, as you’re standing on the tip of your toes. She kisses you slowly, teasingly, like she has all the time in the world, her hands squeezing your hips, pressing her own hips against yours as she finally deepens the kiss. You gasp as her hands knead your ass, giving her the opportunity to slide her tongue inside her mouth.

“You’re truly the hottest person I've ever seen.” She murmurs against your lips. Her own lips become more and more eager as she backs you slowly against the shower wall. You hiss slightly as the cold wall hits your back but the uneasiness is short lived as Vi tucks her face into your neck, her lips pressing soft open mouthed kisses below your ear.

“Says the hottest girl I’ve ever seen,” Your fingers tangle in her hair, which is dark pink now, because it’s soaking wet. Just like your heat, that’s now touching her thigh. You didn’t notice that she brought her thigh between your legs, too lost in the feeling of her touch and kisses on your neck.

You whimper loudly, leaning your body even more against hers and you feel your body tingling all over. A second later you feel her lips crash against yours again. You feel so overwhelmed, your heart hammering against your chest as you roll your hips down on her. Grinding your sensitive clit against her muscular thigh.

“B-baby—” you cut yourself off with a loud cry as her hands move you back and forth, the delicious friction against your throbbing heat causing you to close your eyes as she moves you back against her thigh. Moaning softly as you feel Vi flex her thigh against your pussy.

You gasp as she moves her leg up to apply more pressure to your clit, bucking your hips instinctively to continue rocking them without her guidance. You’re trembling as you drag your hips back and forth, occasionally moving in circles. You feel so close, the coil tightening below your waist. Her thigh is so thick and strong, the pressure on your clit driving you insane as you roll your hips faster, supporting yourself by your palms placed on her abdomen as small whines leave your mouth.

Her eyelids hang low as she watches you, her eyes concentrated on each roll of your hips, each grind of your pussy against her muscular thigh. Your body trembles the more you drag your pussy against her, feeling so close to your release, you try to move your hips faster. Her hands dig in your hips, guiding you against her thigh once again the second she notices you slowing down. Flexing her thigh repeatedly against your dripping centre does it, makes you double over as you cum against her skin.

Your head leans against her chest, as you try to catch your breath while you slow down your movements against her. Her hands slide over your back as her arms pull you closer against her while she pulls her thigh back.

You look up at her, your breath still laboured. “Did that feel good?” She asks as a gentle smile plays on her lips.

“Oh yeah, definitely.” You mirror her smile as you wrap your arms around her neck.

“You did so well for me, you’re always doing so good for me. I love you so much.” She says before she leans down to kiss you. The kiss starts off gentle, but soon evolves into something more passionate and deep. She brings your body closer to her, and you can’t seem to quite catch your breath.

You open your mouth to swipe your wet muscle against her lips, her lips slowly opening up for you to slip your tongue inside. Your tongues dance against each other slowly, her taste is so delicious, making you moan against her lips.

Your hands travel from her back, all the way down to her waist, your hands occasionally squeezing her flesh. One of your hands is slipping all the way down to her wet heat in between her legs, while the other is holding her body close to yours. All the while you’re kissing her deeply. She whimpers when your fingers pass by her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your fingers slide up and down her slit, slowly spreading her outer lips for you to slip two of your fingers inside her. She cries out as you rub your fingers against her walls. You press your palm against her clit as you gradually pick up the pace of your hand.

Her legs almost give out on her at the pressure against her clit combined with your fingers playing with her sensitive spot inside. You steady her with your other hand as you smile against her lips. You swirl your tongue against hers as she moans in your mouth. Her thighs tremble so hard as her noises start to become more high pitched.

She opens her eyes, meeting your playful eyes as she pulls her mouth from yours to cry out loud as her hips stutter against your hand as she comes undone. Vi tightens and untightens around your fingers as she rides out her high. After a while you slip your fingers out of her as she slumps against your body. Both of your hands catch her body and you smile.

“God that was so…” She says breathless against your neck.

“I know, I wanted to thank my girlfriend for giving me such a beautiful gift.” You say as you lean your head down to press a kiss on her, now soaked head.

“You know you didn’t have to,”

“I know, but I wanted to. I shouldn’t be the only one that’s always getting all the pleasure.” You say softly.

She straightens up after you say those words. “Is that what you think? That you don’t pleasure me enough?”

You bite your bottom lip as you try to avoid her eyes, “Well yeah, kinda.”

You soon feel her hands on your cheeks, tilting your face to hers, making you look into her eyes. “Erase that thought out of your head, you do pleasure me so much that you don’t even realise.”

You smile softly at her words, leaning against her touch. “Thank you, you know how insecure or how much I doubt myself sometimes.”

“That’s ok, I’m just here to remind you that those thoughts aren’t true.”

You wrap your arms around her as you hug her close to you, your head on her chest. You both hold each other like this for a while. Until Vi speaks up again.

“What do you think about this, we go and watch a movie in the living room after we clean up?” She says as she smiles down at you.

“Perfect idea.”

You both wash each other, your hair and your bodies, as you occasionally share some kisses, touching each other softly as you clean yourselves. It’s so intimate, in a way that it’s not even sexual anymore. Just soft and sweet. And oh so gentle.

Once you’re both finished, Vi steps out of the shower first grabbing a big fluffy towel for you. Wrapping the towel around you once you’re out of the shower. She grabs one for her and wraps it around her.

“You’re so beautiful.” She whispers to you as she dries herself off. Once you’re both dry she wraps her towel around her and pulls you against her, holding you close to her.

You could stay like this in her arms forever. Eventually you pull away and she smiles mischievously down at you.

“The first one that has their pyjamas on and sits on the couch gets to pick out the movie.” She says quickly before running off to your shared bedroom, giving herself a head start.

“HEY!” You yell as you run behind her, both giggling as you try to be as quick as possible.

[jinxedgods]

Love Jinx. Love Vi. Love Silco (even this horrible guy)

But, let’s talk about how some of the fandom have actively villainizes Vi.

Massive Spoilers Ahead

Even if I vehemently disagree with every take thats like “Vi couldn’t love Jinx” or undermines Vi’s devotion to her sister, I cannot be mad at the people who make these takes.

In a way, these takes show how genius the writing of the show is.

In the beginning of the show, there’s constant tension between whether or not Silco actually loves Jinx or is just using her. By the end, he’s demonstrated that despite everything he’s done, he loves Jinx.

If you’re talking about Arcane on tumblr or Twitter or any social media website at all, you know that some people have taken this and decided that Silco was the only true family for Jinx. At this point, if someone has a Silco pfp they are 25% more likely to think Vi is a total jerk.

Vi wants Powder. Vi wants Powder. It’s the message that’s been pushed to us over and over again. Even then, when Vi is explicitly told to choose between “Powder” and “Jinx”, she never explicitly makes the choice.

Vi doesn’t loose Jinx because she tells her “this is the version of you I like better”. Instead, she loses Jinx because:

A) Jinx feels like she’s been replaced

B) Vi doesn’t understand who Jinx is now

C) Jinx cannot let go of her fear of being abandoned.

Again, I cannot hate people who hate Vi. I think Vi lovers and Vi haters are two sides of the same coin. The reasons people hate Vi are the same reasons people can defend her. The reasons that people love Silco are the same reasons that people hate him.

Really it’s about perspective.

If you hate Vi, you see things from Jinx’s point of view.

If you like Vi, you care for Jinx but see her perspective as flawed.

Re: Jinx feels like she’s been replaced.

Silco lovers will say that this is Vi’s fault. In their eyes, Vi prioritizes Caitlyn over Jinx when she should just be focused on reuniting with her sister. The bridge scene is an example. Vi tended to Caitlyn while Silco tended to Jinx.

At the same time, people who like Vi can use Jinx’s feelings of replacement to justify Vi’s feelings. Vi is at odds with the persona “Jinx” because it is built upon Powder’s insecurities — including her fear of being replaced. Jinx literally asks Vi to murder Caitlyn in cold blood so Vi can prove her devotion to Jinx. She puts Vi is an impossible position where she can’t prove her love for Powder without becoming a murderer.

Re: Vi doesn’t understand who Jinx is now.

This statement alone can be used by Silco sympathizers to argue how Vi has failed Jinx. Vi is out of touch with her sister. There is now way that Vi can love Jinx now when she doesn’t understand her.

Again, Vi stans can turn this same thing into something that redeems Vi. Vi’s has been separated from her sister for so long, and has such little time to reconcile with her that she cannot possibly by blamed for clinging the old image of her little sister.

Re: Jinx can’t let go of her fear of being abandoned.

What I mean by this is that Jinx is troubled by the idea that Vi will leave her because she won’t be able to reconcile with who she’s become.

If you root for Silco, you probably think Jinx’s feelings are justified. Vi searches for Powder and refuses to accept Jinx. She selfishly expects Jinx to become the little sister she knew, which is why she can never have a relationship with her. This is proven when Jinx chooses the “Jinx” chair herself.

On the other hand, Vi’s fans have a bastion of evidence to use to refute this claim. Vi has seen Jinx kill people, enjoy violence, kidnap Caitlyn, kidnap her, and demand that Vi kill Caitlyn. Yet, Vi still tries desperately to reconnect with Jinx. This shows that Vi can love Jinx no matter what terrible acts she committed. If Vi has seen Jinx do so many terrible things already, why would she quit on Jinx after seeing that she isn’t her little sister anymore? She already has.

Silco’s pitch to Jinx is that he will never abandon her. He’s proven that he will sacrifice Zaun to keep Jinx with him. Even when Jinx accidentally kills him, he offers her encouraging words and forgiveness.

The problem is, people often forget that Silco’s “I will never forsake you” is preceded by “Everyone abandons us.” Silco has fueled Jinx’s abandonment issues because that’s what makes their bond so strong. Arcane writers made Silco show impressive displays of love for Jinx, but at the same time he’s incredibly manipulative to her. A relationship with him requires that Jinx always carries around this abandonment trauma that ties her to him. People will romanticize Silco’s dialogue to Jinx without realizing how manipulative he is.

People who romanticize Jinx’s relationship with Silco share the same point of view as Jinx. To them, his insistence that Jinx is doomed to be abandoned by everyone but him isn’t manipulation: It’s love. He’s protecting her. The idea of having a relationship with someone who is the sole person you can trust is seductive.

In arcane, there are no true heroes or villains. Every character has ugly moment, good moments, and is a savior or a villain to someone else in the story. People will interpret the show differently based on their perspective. People who favor Silco over Vi have simply chosen Jinx as their protagonist.

[featherlumina]

Well. Looks like I woke up today and chose...pain. Time to get some thoughts out about this tragic scene.

Okay, first up, even though I did push the brightness & colour saturation on this scene for the GIF, the light in his leg just seems... more...purple than before? I don’t know, when he was running, the light inside seemed more blue. Probably just an example of why you don’t mix shimmer and arcane magic, I guess. More on that later.

“...Sky...Sky!? No!”

THIS. THIS SCENE IS BRILLIANT. The way the camera focuses on Viktor through Sky’s glasses? OH. OHHH. It’s cinematography at it’s finest. Fortiche never ceases to amaze me. It says so many things. The first and only priority for Sky in that moment was saving Viktor, and he was the last thing she saw. In this moment, we’re also invited to see things from Sky’s perspective—but there’s something very, very wrong, because she’s not there. We can’t get her view anymore because she’s gone. 

Like Viktor, we as the audience missed the chance to know her more, and, like Viktor, we mourn what could have been (yes, I went there). In Viktor’s self-absorbed desperation, Sky became an afterthought to him, and she was ripped away because of his carelessness. I’ll have more to say on this in future posts but I believe the lack of Sky’s character was extremely intentional. Am I mad she was very much sidelined? Yes. But I think it was done for very clever reasons, given the show’s attention to detail.  

Anyway, can we also just cry about how upset Viktor is here? He’s just been thrown about by the Hexcore, but the first thing on his mind is Sky. The absolute look of distress from Viktor just...ugh, it ruins me. In my head, this scene says a lot about Viktor’s attitude to Sky as well. He hasn’t just taken a stranger’s life. He’s taken the life of his childhood friend—someone he watched grow up alongside him, with hopes, dreams and ambitions to change the world for the better. 

Just like him.

Whether or not he reciprocated her feelings is another matter, but he clearly cared about her. Viktor’s circle has never seemed that big, either, so losing her, one of the few people who loved him...god. It’s tragic, because once the veil of his Hexcore madness lifted and he saw the consequences, the Viktor we knew and loved from early on in Act I & Act II came rushing right back—someone who deeply cared for others, ahead of himself, and the horror that he took a life becomes unbearable.

“No! Th-that can’t...that can’t...!”

Okay. Can I just say. The animation here is gut-wrenchingly good. The last few frames just convey Viktor’s horror so, so well. The way Sky’s ashes fall through his trembling hands, the agonised expression...this is the moment we can see Viktor’s realisation at what his actions have led to. I can’t imagine the cognitive dissonance he’s experiencing here. To have worked so hard to help, only to have your life’s work end someone? God. Someone send help. I can’t anymore. It’s too depressing. No wonder Vik contemplated ending his own life later.

(Also kinds reminds me of Powder’s monkey... to have worked so hard with the intention to help, only to destroy...let’s hope Vik ends up a little less traumatised than Jinx, hey? They really should be friends, come to think. Could really bond over the trauma and grow as people. For those who AU this, good on you).

What a scene. It’s just... pure devastation. Sky’s remains just...everywhere, even with bits of her clothes, a shoe...it’s awful. Also, Viktor is ridiculously skinny. He’s barely skin and bone at this stage (I have my hunches on lung cancer being his illness because cancer just consumes your body for sustenance, but it’s just a hunch).

Okay this horrible orb just looks menacing as heck right now. I find it interesting because before this, the Hexcore was already corrupted by shimmer to some degree, but Viktor didn’t have any shimmer left for this round. And yet, the Hexcore became more corrupted still. Why is that? It also makes me wonder what would’ve happened to Vik if Sky hadn’t shown up. Because the whatever was happening stopped after Sky was consumed. Would he have been taken by the Hexcore instead? Because the Hexcore definitely seems interested in taking before it gives anything in return (i.e., Viktor’s blood). Anyhow, I have way more questions about this than answers, so we’ll leave it there. 

(Also I’ve tried reading LoL lore to get my head around The Void, as lots of people have some great theories about it and how it might link to shimmer/the Hexcore, so I might write more on that one day...)

[sandraharissa]

The escalation of tension in ep 3 was done so masterfully.

First we experience the typical version of tension that we’d expect, especially for the story we thought Arcane to be back then. Halfway through the episode the line is dropped 

“Have you heard the rumor…” 

and in that moment the audience knows shit really ‘really’ hit the fan. However it’s immediately established Vi stands a chance, it’s the hope at the end of the tunnel. But then the fight drags on and on and the tension keeps on building. Then Deckard gets shimmered up and there’s further escalation as Vi can’t fight him and manages to retreat at the last second. At this point Powder decides to set up her bomb. The monkey bomb walks towards Deckard, Vi manages to hold the door, Mylo gets Vander out of the shackles and Claggor finds a way out. For a second the audience thinks this will be the solution, the release of tension as our heroes escape unscathed. And then there’s this look Vi and Vander share that drives me absolutely crazy, like they knew something was gonna go terribly wrong, and then the bomb goes off.

There was no release of tension and instead there’s a drastic increase of it. Mylo and Claggor die, Vander and Vi are trapped under rubble crying over their dead family, the whole place is on fire, Sevika lost her arm, Signed may be dead, pissed Silco gives the order to “kill them” and arguably worst of all, Deckard wasn’t hurt in the slightest by the bomb, immediately there’s another spike of tension/despair. Vander goes out to fight at the bridge, he fights Deckard and then Silco and then he falls down, we went back to fighting at the same damned bridge and it feels even more like the same fight drags on and on and there’s no solution in sight.

Then shimmered up Vander in a quick succession kills Deckard and rescues Vi. Out on the street he dies. It’s not really escalation or de-escalation of tension, but a kind of brief break.

Then Powder comes around 

“Did you see me?” 

boom, another spike of tension as it dawns on the audience what will inevitably happen in a moment. The little girl will find out she just killed her family. Then there’s Vi’s reaction which is heartbreaking and the tension/despair rises to the point where I bet by now most of the audience was crying.

The situation reaches its most horrible climax when Vi is walking away and we see the little girl hysterically crying to not be left alone and being ignored. All of what I’m saying is partially subjective but it was also intentionally designed the way it is by storytellers so most likely majority of the audience has very similar experience of it. For me that was the worst part, all this tension that was build up until now and now it’s not even anymore about the conflict with the enemy, the conflict/tension escalated to the point where now it’s the sisters, the family, in-fighting and breaking apart, and having to see Powder thinking she was being abandoned and not being consoled felt like a spike through the chest.

And then Silco comes around the corner and Vi gets kidnapped. I’d say it’s another ‘break’. We know Powder’s in danger but not in any kind of clearly defined and violent danger. There are no shimmer monsters charging at Powder or bombs going off. Silco just holds a knife behind his back but he’s not attacking Powder, he’s asking her a question, he needs something from her so the danger is not immediate, something can still happen and we’re looking forward to see what it is.

And then Powder hugs Silco and then Silco hugs her back. It’s the first and only de-escalation of tension, not just any tension but specifically the worst example of it, it’s de-escalation of the ugly climax that all the tension built up to. The little girl was crying, pleading that she needed to be loved and didn’t want to be left alone and now she’s not alone, she’s not in danger, she’s in complete safety, she’s being hugged and consoled, and for the first time during this episode I (and I imagine most ppl) felt something almost akin to peace and calm.

The show gives us like a full minute to bask in that numb calmness and in darkness as the screen very slowly goes completely black.

 -

I obviously primarily focused on talking about building of the tension and despair of the scene but here at the end it probably also became apparent that the release of tension was also very smartly used to induce positive emotions toward Silco and Powder’s relationship in the audience. The very same scene, the tackle-hug, is the release of a full episode’s build-up of tension and the first scene between Silco and Powder that establishes their relationship. Making us feel relief and like we can breathe again after everything that happened SPECIFICALLY because of SILCO taking care of Powder. 

Smth smth shrimp emotions smth smth.

[arcane-ish]

Thoughts on Miner!Silco and Poverty in Zaun

I know Silco growing up in the mines is a bit of a controversial take, but it made me think of a couple of things. 

Have you ever considered that within the context of the universe... we are kind of mostly seeing the middle/upper class of the Undercity? 

The upper class of Zaun are the chembarons and Silco is basically on their level even if he might not be the richest of them/doesn’t choose to fully live like them. 

Benzo runs his own shop. Vander owns and runs a bar. Ekko at least based on League lore has two hard working parents who were at least considering applying him to Piltover University. Viktor and Sky apparently have parents who did that successfully. 

We get a glimpse of the beggars and drug addicts of Zaun. 

But here’s the thing, other than crime ,Zaun should be running on mining and factories. I remember reading some stuff just how shit factory was in Europe ca 1900. And I assume mine work was even worse. Like “family of 10 living in a single room”, like “I can’t afford a room, let alone an apartment, so I rent a shared bed where when I leave to do dayshift some person with nightshift comes and sleeps in that bed because we both can’t even affort to rent a whole bed” (no privacy, no place to store personal affects), immediately spending everything you earn on alcohol to deal with the gruelling work (so work so you can pay for the drug that makes the work bearable), companies that don’t pay you with money but with store vouchers so you can only buy in their own stores where they hike up the prizes that nobody would accept on the free market. 

Granted, some of these things could be different in the fictional world of Runeterra (for example: if beause of magic contraceptives are a standard thing then you would have fewer problems specifically related to large families or to wedlock children drama), but overall... there should be people like that. Miners and factory workers and sailors who do the actual backbreaking work. 

Like for all the lip service Arcane pays to class warfare topic, it still is pretty “let’s play the cute romantic” parts of poverty and not actually showing the people whose backs the city is actually built on. 

BTW, while is probably is not that deep, we should not “underestimate grew up working in the mines.“ No “Silco was a miner” and no “Silco’s family were miners and so he grew up in the mines”. Whether intended or not, that sounds mightily we are talking the child labor kind of mines.  

Anyway, here are some miner!Silco plotbunnies or general “wow, poverty is shit, you know” plotbunnies. 

Ekko, progress day and the toll: Is there a toll on the bridge? Because it feels like there should be a toll (if there are tolls, are there special passes that alllow you to go through without paying the toll? does Viktor haev one?). That’s why Silco cares so much about free access to the hex gates. So picture this, Ekko’s parents save up all their money to pay for the toll so they can take him up to attend the Progress Day festivities. On the way there maybe they get roughed up by the toll collectors. Maybe that day Ekko vows that he will never pay that toll in his life anymore, he will always just sneak into the city. 

Circles of hell: you know, somebody who is a good writer could probably write a really good “circles of hell” type story on Zaun. Where the highest areas that are closest to Piltover are fanciest because the air is cleaner. It’s where the chem barons live. But maybe that’s also where the “fancy” brothels and clubs are where some Pilties go to party if they are feeling adventurous, maybe that’s where the dock workers and sailors are. Then maybe there is the rank where the people live who have “nicer” factory and mining jobs, like clerks or foremans. Then the Lanes are somewhere in the middle, maybe they are like the “party district” but for the Zaunites themseles. Maybe next ring is where the poorer workers live and then there are the lowest rings, like the one for the drug addicts we saw or where the miners and shit shovelers.are from. 

Wow, sheets and stuff: Just the first time young!Silco sleeps in a bed with actual white sheets and it’s all fancy and wide eyed luxury to him. (maybe they don’t get clean water down in the mines? maybe they all stink because the water of the Pilt river is poisoned? or maybe clean water is a relatively recent addition only introduced by the topside because it kept being obnoxious to them when there’s always plagues breaking out in the undercity)

Poor people live with their parents (especially in crowded places): Recently I took a “guided by a local” tour in a big city in Europe. One thing the guide talked about is that the real estate prices are so high that nobody can afford their own apartment which means 1.) young people live forever with their parents and often don’t get married till late because they can’t afford a place with their spouse anyway 2.) because people live with their parents and there is no privacy young couples go and meet in the public parks to fuck. I just feel like there should be fic that incorporates that concept if it set in Zaun with a regular Zaunite. 

(it should be noted that even the upper class Cait and Jayce are living/appear to be living with their parents, we should just consider that that is doubly so the case for poor people)

(we should btw consider the option that Viktor is always working because he actually does not have a place to live because he can’t afford an apartment in Piltover and doesn’t have a Piltover patron family the way Jayce had, or that Skye always has to go back and forth between Piltover and Zaun with a special passport because she too can’t afford an apartment in Piltover)

Class differences within the undercity: So, how long have Benzo, Silco and Vander known each other? Were they all miners? Maybe at least one of them was a “Laner” and they only met after child laborer Silco decided to escape from the mines (either to join the revolution or to pursue a life in crime instead). Or maybe some of their group are workers, but one of them is like the Foreman’s kid and it’s like all angsty yearning from afar. 

A day in Piltover: Them sneaking into Piltover (again refusing to pay the toll) to have fun and fuck around and get drunk and maybe whistle at some Pilties but of course enforcers are hassling you for “looking poor” in Piltover and loitering (do you have a passport? where is your toll slip?)

BTW: “go crawl back into the hole you came from, animal” sure hit’s different if you buy into the prosed “grew up working in the mines” background. Like, wow, Benzo you asshole. 

[spritewrites]

get connected (for 250 gp)

Fandom: Critical Role

Characters: Mollymauk, Essek, and Caleb

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: You all know what the fuck is up. Expansion on this. Read on AO3

“It’s a necromancy spell, technically,” Essek’s saying, “but it can work for all kinds of things, not just damage.”

“Could it be used to transfer spell effects?” Caleb asks, scribbling furiously in his notebook.

Essek runs a hand through his hair. “I have not been able to crack that, no—my current understanding is that may require another spell entirely. I can devote more research to that, if you would like.”

Gods above.

Wizards are boring.

Mollymauk flops backwards over the edge of the chaise. He can’t even tell if they’re flirting anymore, that’s how boring they are. Molly’s flirting radar is seasoned.

“So, not spell effects. But it has power. For example—” Essek starts flipping through notes— “I’ve found that it responds to a variety of stimuli. From what I can tell, it seems to be anything that’s sufficiently affecting the subject’s essence. Hence, the name of the spell.”

Mollymauk feels his ears perk up.

“Anything?” Caleb asks.

Essek nods. “Well, not quite anything. But anything strong—loud noises, for example, or some forms of touch—even very sour tastes can—”

“Touch?” Mollymauk sits up, tail lashing behind him. Essek and Caleb look at him strangely, almost as though they’d forgotten he was there. Odd, that. It’s hard to ignore a bright purple tiefling. Still, it doesn’t dissuade him. “By touch, you mean any—”

“Not the passive sorts of touch that the body naturally tunes out,” Essek replies, tilting his head. “But we’ve found that even light scratching or pinching can… I didn’t know you were so interested in the magical arts, Mr. Mollymauk.”

If there’s anything Mollymauk can recognize, it’s a challenge in disguise. “Not usually,” he admits, leaning back on the chaise. It’s a little less dramatic than his flop, which is disappointing, but seems to get his point across. “This one sounds interesting, though. A spell, you say?”

“Tether Essence,” Essek clarifies, exactly at the same time that Caleb squints at him and asks, “What is your game, Mollymauk?”

“No game,” says Molly, holding his hands up. “Just curious.”

Caleb gives him a hard look. “That is what I am worried about.”

“Ah, come now, I’m charming.”

“If you’re genuinely curious,” says Essek, “I can show you.”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” Mollymauk says with a grin. Caleb’s staring at him suspiciously, and Molly flips him off when Essek’s back is turned. It seems—well, almost cruel, really, to prey on Essek’s nerdiness like this.

Not cruel enough that he’s not going to do it, but. Something to think about.

He meets Essek’s gaze with all the innocence he can muster. “So, are there material components?” He gives himself a silent pat on the back for remembering that aspect of the arcane. Especially since Caleb’s look of shock is hilarious.

“Yes, they’re just—here, let me—” Essek’s rooting around in a chest of drawers, and finally emerges with a spool of platinum cord. “This is the only material requirement—”

“Can you show me?”

“Mollymauk,” Caleb interrupts. “We are trying to study.”

“Sure, sure,” Molly replies, waving him off, “so am I, that’s why I asked—Shadowhand, a demonstration, perhaps?”

“I, ah…” Essek flicks his gaze to Caleb. “It… can’t do any harm, can it?”

Caleb narrows his eyes at Mollymauk.

Mollymauk puts on his most innocent face.

“I suppose it cannot.”

Yes.

“But here, cast it on me,” Caleb continues hastily. “Mollymauk can be a bit of a masochist with that weapon, I do not want you getting hurt.”

“You don’t know the half of it, darling,” Mollymauk purrs, but generously lays off at the look Caleb shoots him.

Some sort of sigil appears in the air, gray and purple and beautiful in its strangeness, and suddenly the spool of cord is gone and there’s… something snapping in the air between the wizards. Some sort of gray line of energy is thrumming in that space at about chest-height (well, chest-height for Essek, it’s somewhere around Caleb’s ribcage), crackling with life.

Essek’s talking again. “So, you see, Mollymauk, the energy of our essences is magically linked, creating an arcane bond that—”

“Aye, grand. So, if one of you, say, got hurt—”

“We would both get hurt,” says Caleb, eyeing him warily. “So that would be quite dangerous.”

Mollymauk licks his lips. “Mm, quite. But it’s not just damage, you say?”

“Here, demonstration is easiest—” Essek reaches for a jar candle on the desk and holds it to his nose, breathing deeply. A few feet away, Caleb scrunches his face and rubs at his nose.

“Ja, gut,” he says. “Works fine, thank you.”

“Or certain kinds of touch,” Mollymauk prompts. Essek nods.

“I can’t feel everything—say, his clothes on his body. That would be distracting. But, for example, a particularly bothersome itch, or intense heat or cold, or—”

“Oh,” interrupts Caleb suddenly. His eyes are wide. “Oh, Mollymauk, no.”

“What?” Essek’s brow furrows.

Mollymauk’s eyes gleam. “Gentlemen,” he purrs, “I believe I have another experiment for your research.”

—

Gods, Molly should’ve become a wizard. They get all the best spells.

“So right here—you’re following, Caleb?— right here makes him scream.”

He glances up, crimson eyes catching on a shivering, cackling lump of tattered coat. Caleb’s following.

Mollymauk grins and spiders his nails over Essek’s hips. Beneath him, the drow shoves at his hands and screeches, thrashing helplessly. Maybe it’s good that Mollymauk didn’t become a wizard. They’re not very good at defending themselves.

“Molly—ahahaha, mercy, Molly, I—I’m gonna dihihie, eehehe, no more tickling—” Essek gasps, flopping about like a fish out of water.

“He’s a bit more shriek-y than you, wouldn’t you say, Caleb?” Caleb doesn’t answer. Tether Essence is the best. “And much more talkative.”

Essek goes a bit redder at that, the color barely visible against his dark skin. His eyes shoot over to Caleb, who’s currently curled in a ball on the bed, laughing his ass off. The thin gray line of arcane energy that connects them twitches and spasms as Mollymauk taps up Essek’s sides, scritching delicately at his bottom rib. Out of the corner of his eye, Mollymauk catches the way that Caleb’s arms snap to his sides, frantically trying to protect from a phantom touch.

He grins.

“Not there,” Essek’s saying, almost babbling through his laughter. “Plehehease, Molly—I can’t—Caleb can’t—nnnahaha—”

“Yes, much more talkative,” Mollymauk muses, tapping the fingers of his other hand against the back of Essek’s knee. Essek squirms, giggling, and on the other side of the room, Caleb lets out a great shout and falls off the bed. Mollymauk leans in to his victim—well, one of them—and watches the tears of mirth bead in the corners of his eyes, their noses almost touching. “Everything but the safe word, hm?”

And oh, if Essek was flushed before, he’s glowing purple now. Mollymauk moves up a rib, pinching, and Essek’s laughter goes silent—just fangs and tousled hair—exactly at the same time that Caleb shrieks.

“Oh.” Mollymauk’s tail twitches. “That was interesting.”

Caleb seems to think so too, because he’s clambering back up onto the bed, one arm wrapped around his ribs, gasping. He gets one arm under him, steadying himself—and then Molly digs a thumb between two of Essek’s ribs, and Caleb falls face-first into the bedsheets. Absolutely no coordination on that one. Mollymauk is glad he chose the bed; he might hurt himself flopping around like that on the hardwood. Squishy wizards, and all.

Essek latches onto Mollymauk’s wrist with both hands. (Molly’s pretty sure that Sprinkle could push harder than that.) “Eeeehehe—no ribs, mercy, plehehease—”

“Now, is that you begging?” Mollymauk teases, rubbing quick circles into Essek’s torso right above his elbows. “Or is that our little bookworm on the bed?”

Probably hard to tell either way, at this point, but Essek shakes his head rapidly. “Tickles—it tickles, Molly, it—ah! aha! —tickles, please!”

“Hm…” Mollymauk glances up, catching a glimpse of pink cheeks smushed into a pillow as Caleb cackles. He seems not to be willing to pry his arms from around his torso—foolish, really, they’re not protecting him any—but he’s kicking like mad, banging his heels against the mattress in an attempt to vent some of his energy.

Precious. He thinks he’s got a chance.

Still, it wouldn’t do to break both the wizards at once. He tickles back down Essek’s sides, leaving merciless little pinches as he goes that cause two sets of adorable squeaks, and eases up until he’s gently fiddling with the drow’s sides.

Essek gulps in air, giggling through his exhales. There are tear tracks running down either side of his face from his eyes to his temples, but he doesn’t seem of a mind to wipe them away. Mollymauk grins. He likes seeing the fruits of his labor.

“Ribs are n-not fair,” Caleb gasps, flopping backwards onto the sheets even as he continues to squirm at the phantom sensation crawling up his sides. “Ribs are cheating and you—ehe—you know it, Mollymauk Teale—hee—eaf.”

“Dunno,” Mollymauk says, catching Essek’s eye and grinning when the drow’s ears twitch down in nervousness. “Essek usually doesn’t mind so much.”

“I am n-not usually so sensitive there.” Essek glares at the bed, but Caleb doesn’t seem to notice. That is… also interesting.

Hypothesis acquired. Mollymauk abandons Essek’s sides—a groan of relief from Caleb on the bed—and reaches up. He’s careful not to startle, but no need; Essek, soft and pliant from the tickling, nudges into his hand like a needy cat.

Mollymauk grins and gives a little scritch. Essek hums.

Then, because he can, he swipes one finger up the back of a pointed ear.

Essek jolts, gasping, and Caleb lets out a cry. Oh, being rewarded for his efforts truly does awful things to Mollymauk’s self-control.

“That’s not—you’re—” Essek whines as he does it again, and Mollymauk offers a little coo of pity.

“Ticklish here?”

“You know I—Molly!”

“Not asking you,” Mollymauk smirks, and his eyes flick toward the bed. “Caleb, are you ticklish on your ears?”

He takes a special delight in asking a question of the wizard who is notoriously terrible at talking in situations like this, but Caleb rallies. “I—n-nein, not really—please—”

“Fascinating.” Mollymauk tickles over the shell of Essek’s ear, and the drow gives a full-body shudder. He’s not laughing, exactly, but he’s not not laughing, either. There’s a magenta hue over his cheeks and all down his neck that Molly thinks is terrifically fetching.

“Vith’rell,” he gasps out, more insistently, “you cannot just—”

“I can do,” Mollymauk interrupts, “whatever I want, darling. You said it yourself, experimentation is the heart of arcane research—”

“The soul,” Essek grits out through clenched teeth, which earns him a pinch to the stomach—

“And personally, I think this is the best I’ve ever understood all that wizard nonsense.”

Molly rubs again at the very tip of Essek’s pointed ear, the part that makes the drow’s face contort as he tries to decide between pulling away and nuzzling closer. Caleb, meanwhile, whines.

“Widogast,” Mollymauk says casually, like he’s not shredding them both into confetti, “what’s that feel like, if you had to put words to it?”

For a moment, he almost thinks Caleb’s not going to respond. He glances up and the human’s face-down in the bed, fists full of sheets, shivering. Still, he seems able to gather himself enough to take a shaky breath.

“It is—Essek, they are so—Scheiße, it is like… I can feel it, but it is strange, like a ghost…” He’s twitching his hands vaguely around his ears, but Mollymauk notes with amusement that he’s gesturing a few inches too high—right where an elven point might be. Caleb shivers again. “Essek, I did not know you were so sensitive there.”

Mollymauk stifles a knowing grin. “Next time, I’ll hook you up to Jester and get her tail, see how you fare with that.”

“Next—” Caleb nearly falls off the bed again. “Mollymauk—”

“Come now, don’t be so impatient,” Molly chuckles. “After all—hey—”

Emboldened, or maybe just desperate, Caleb starts to murmur a few arcane words and makes a lunging grab off the bed for Molly’s tail—but if Mollymauk prides himself on anything, it’s quick thinking—and before Caleb can take a step, he’s got both hands under Essek’s knees, scribbling wildly. Caleb collapses, giggling, hitting the floor in a tangle of blankets with a delightful thump.

Essek, for his part, probably didn’t plan on becoming a pawn in Mollymauk and Caleb’s little squabble, but. Well. He doesn’t seem to mind. His face is buried in his hands, muffling his squeaky laughter, and his kicks are barely more than little reflexive twitches at this point.

He absolutely picked the right wizard; Molly thinks to himself. This one’s got no fight in him. He gives Essek a little tickle under his chin, just to see if—aye, sure enough, he barely squirms. Cute.

Boof. A pillow hits him in the back of the head. “Leave him alone, Mollymauk, the spell is still—”

Molly sticks his tongue out and jams a thumb into the inside of Essek’s thigh. A loud laugh punches out of Essek, surprising all of them, and Caleb crumples again delightfully. Another pinch, just below Essek’s hip, clearly a little too close for comfort, judging by the squeak, and Caleb—

Caleb lets out the absolute funniest noise Mollymauk has ever heard him make. It’s somewhere between a shriek and a snort, like he was halfway through inhaling, and Mollymauk can’t help himself.

He bursts out laughing, loud and boisterous and maybe a little giddy from all the tickling, and folds over to rest his forehead in the crook of Essek’s shoulder.

Essek makes some sort of disgruntled noise—probably the horns—and pats him lightly on the head. “Are you alright, Moll—eep—”

Mollymauk prods gingerly into his stomach once more. “Just grand, thank you—gods—” He wipes a tear from his eye— “I didn’t know you could be funny, Caleb.”

The pile of blankets lets out a haughty little sniff. “If I choose to be.”

“You’ve got Essek laughing.”

“I’m really—” Essek cuts himself off with another squeak. His tummy is much more ticklish than Caleb’s, which must be an awful surprise for the pile of blankets.

Which reminds him—

Mollymauk scootches back on Essek’s thighs, giving him enough leverage to sit up if he wanted to. Essek twists, whimpering, and mutters something in Undercommon into his hands. Molly’s pretty sure he can understand “bastard” in any language.

He catches a glimpse of the blankets, which are moving again. There’s some red hair, then a bony elbow, and slowly a full-grown Caleb emerges, disheveled and flushed and wonderfully pink around the ears.

Mollymauk gives himself a moment to be proud… and then reaches back with one hand.

Essek has exactly enough time for “No—” before there are devilish little tiefling claws tickling over the sole of his left foot.

He shrieks. Predictably.

And then Caleb wails.

There’s no hiding Molly’s grin now. He’s not pinning Essek’s ankles—at least, not as well as he could be with a few silks and some bedposts—but it hardly matters, he’s barely kicking anyway, shuffling his heels against the hardwood.

“Not there,” gasps Essek, blinking back tears, “M-Molly, plehehease, I’m begging y—eeehehe, ahaha, nau—inbal ka’lith, qualla—”

“Can’t understand you,” Mollymauk sings. He has to raise his voice a little to be heard over Caleb’s wheezy laughter. “Can’t show any mercy if I can’t understand you…”

“Nnnaha—anywhere but thehehere, heh, Molly, I—ah!” One nail is circling threateningly over the ball of Essek’s foot, dangerously close to his toes, and Essek breaks beautifully, shooting bolt upright and grabbing Mollymauk by the shoulders. “I’ll die if you tickle me there—”

Mollymauk shrugs. “Shame you weren’t consecuted, then.”

He considers it a rather generous mercy that he doesn’t actually move his fingers up any higher. Instead, he reaches back with his other hand and mirrors the apparently lethal tickling on the other foot. Essek’s voice cracks on his whine, and, for lack of anything useful to do, he buries his face in Molly’s chest and laughs helplessly against lavender skin.

Mollymauk gives him a quick, tender kiss to the temple, because he’s not that mean—a little cruel, perhaps, but isn’t everyone—and catches a glimpse of his other victim.

Caleb’s curled up on the floor, shaking with hysterics, hands frantically clutching at his feet—but it’s no use, is it, isn’t magic just wonderful—gods, Molly really should’ve become a wizard. His lips are mouthing some sort of plea, inaudible but clearly desperate. Never mind, it’s probably in Zemnian anyway. Caleb always begs in Zemnian.

The gray line of energy connecting them is crackling, buzzing with the force of the sensation zipping through it. Mollymauk tickles delicately at Essek’s arches and watches it jump, amused. He leans in, brushing his lips over the delicate skin of the drow’s ear. “Come, it doesn’t tickle that terribly, does it?”

Essek nods frantically into the fabric of Molly’s robe. “Natha lotha ka’lith, jalbol—”

“Oh, dear, Undercommon?” Mollymauk coos. “My, but you are desperate.”

Essek’s ears twitch, and somewhere in the pile of blankets, Caleb whines.

“Bitte, Mollymauk—ahaha, du bringst ihn um—n-nein, eeehehe, you—you’re mahahaking it worse—"

One violet eyebrow quirks. “Am I?”

He gets only a shriek of laughter in response—somebody’s ticklish on their heels—but oh, this is quite dangerous. Wizards never seem to know what’s good for them, do they. Terrible shame.

The tip of his nose brushes the edge of Essek’s ear cuff. “You’re dreadfully sensitive here, aren’t you, Shadowhand?”

Essek whimpers.

“Mm, that’s what I thought.” Another tickle. “Can’t get away, though, can you?”

Mollymauk feels more than sees Essek’s head turn, shifting in his arms, trying to catch a glimpse of how Caleb’s faring. His fangs press into his lip with his grin.

“Poor thing. Maybe he could save you, if you weren’t so ticklish, hm?”

Essek’s shaking with giggles, and they’re coming to him in waves, his shoulders heaving with the effort of feeling so much and having only his lungs to expel the energy. Weakly, he fists the silk of Molly’s shirt.

Mollymauk tends to take a particular delight in watching his victims fray apart at the seams, tickling until they’re hoarse and sniffling and twitching beneath his hands. He’s tickled these two enough to know that they could take a little more, if they needed to, might even ask for it if they were in that sort of mood.

But the arcane element seems to have been an even bigger blow than perhaps any of them could have anticipated, and Essek’s cheeks are wet with tears of laughter, and he couldn’t rightfully say what’s become of Widogast over there, so he leans in to a pointed ear.

“Do you yield?”

Essek’s eyes squeeze shut. He presses his laughing fangs to Mollymauk’s shoulder, even words—which he was so fond of when all of this started—seeming to escape him, and finally, defeated, he nods.

The claws on his feet vanish, replaced by the soothing rub of palm. Essek’s toes try to curl around it, hypersensitive, but eventually relax into the sensation. The laughter doesn’t disappear immediately either, trailing off in adorable little spurts and hiccups until the drow’s breathing reaches a relatively steady rate.

“Shh, it’s alright, you’re alright,” Mollymauk murmurs. He turns his attention vaguely to the pile of blankets that holds Caleb, bringing an absent-minded hand to rub at Essek’s scalp, but there’s only the general wizard-shaped lump and the sound of weary giggles.

Molly’s half-tempted to go for the toes, just to psych them out—wouldn’t it be so funny if he can get Caleb hiccupping the way Essek always does—but they’re still wizards, aren’t they. Too squishy for that much fun. Jester would never forgive him if he ruined them.

He settles for another scritch between Essek’s ears, which earns him twin sighs of happiness. “Had enough, have you?”

“Mmf,” Essek replies eloquently.

The blankets stir, and a mop of ginger hair pokes out, bedraggled and adorable. Mollymauk wants to kiss that head, when it comes within kissing distance. For now, though, he eases off Essek’s thighs and deftly rearranges his limbs until the drow is comfortably situated in his lap.

“You—” wheezes Caleb, turning an accusing glare toward Mollymauk— “are never studying with us again, you bastard—”

“Ah, come on, Caleb, didn’t you have fun?” Molly teases. He holds a threatening claw over Essek’s hip, delighted when Caleb yelps “No!” and quickly Dispels the magic. In a blink, the gray energy is gone, the only evidence of its existence in the pink of Caleb’s ears and the aching in Essek’s abdomen.

Still, Mollymauk allows himself a little chuckle. “I, for one, learned so much about the arcane, didn’t you?”

Essek lifts his head from Mollymauk’s chest, blinking sleepily. “Hm? Oh, yes, I learned a great deal—didn’t you, Caleb?”

Honestly, Mollymauk half-expects Caleb to fret and blather in Zemnian until his face turns from pink to blue, but he’s looking at Essek with an undisguised fondness. “At what cost, though, liebling?”

Essek shrugs. “I know far more about your ticklish spots.”

Mollymauk snorts, and Caleb opens his mouth to say—something, probably something snarky and cutting—but he catches something in Essek’s eye that Mollymauk can’t see and shuts his jaw with a snap. Interesting.

“Well,” says Mollymauk cheerily, and offers an open arm to Caleb, wiggling slightly to accommodate some space in his lap next to Essek. Never mind that the man is almost comically too tall and lanky to fit properly. Everybody could use a good cuddle after they’ve laughed like that.

It takes a moment, but Caleb begrudgingly accepts, curling into the space as best he can.

Molly’s not the most perceptive, but even he catches the small smile lingering on the wizard’s face.

[oh-hush-its-perfect]

Alex Fierro's Introduction Full Breakdown

Okokok so. This is going to go full English-professor mode, where I'm drawing conclusions that are gonna seem a little far-fetched. That's what's fun about media analysis! I can say something is a symbol, and even if I don't have enough faith in RR's competency to know if he meant for it to be a symbol, it's still true! That being said, a lot of these choices I'm sure are intentional, either at a literal or subliminal level. Page numbers are going to be used not to assert a kind of authority or whatever— this is a Tumblr post, not an essay— but to help readers find the pages I'm referencing in case they'd like to do some digging of their own. Also, this is going to be really long. Really sorry to anyone with ADHD; I might make an audiofile of this so you can get the information without having to read the whole thing. With all that, let's get into it!

To kick off, let's talk about Alex being in the form of a cheetah when she first meets Magnus. Of course, there's the obvious impact of him seeing her but only so breifly, as well as introducing the conflict between her and the rest of Hall 19. But that could have easily been accomplished by almost any animal. The choice of a cheetah being implicated implies two qualities of Alex that will be recurrent throughout the two books she's in: 1. She has a tendency to run away, as we'll later learn when she describes how she became homeless, and 2. To Magnus, she's elusive. She can't be caught or held down. The event that shows this so transparently is how Alex refuses to define their relationship at the end of the series, despite it clearly surpassing the normal bounds of friendship.

But the cheetah isn't the animal Alex is in the form of when Magnus first gets a good look at her; she's a weasel. Weasel's bring up all kinds of connotations: ferocity, slickness, a lack of charm. When we want to describe someone as an untrustworthy person, we call them a weasel. RR had Alex take this form to play up her comrades' feeling of distrust towards her. She could be a double-crosser. But paradoxically, the up-front and vicious mannerisms of a weasel also have a transperency. She does not try appealing to her Hallmate's sense of goodwill because she doesn't have anything to gain from it. So even though there is the implication that she might be an antagonist, there's also evidence from her actions and mannerisms that she isn't. The weasel's long and skinny frame also allow for a smooth transition into Alex's actual body, which is convenient.

As Alex transforms into her usual human form, Magnus describes her as "a regular human teen, long and lanky, with a swirl of dyed green hair, black at the roots, like a plug of weeds pulled out of a lawn" (pg. 50). That simile at the end is of particular interest. Let's compare it to another time Magnus describes Alex's hair, in Ship of the Dead: "Her hair had started to grow out, the black roots making her look even more imposing, like a lion with a healthy mane" (pg. 136). By contrasting these two different examples, we can see the development of Magnus and Alex's relationship. The first time he sees her, he thinks of her hair as something nasty— note the word choice "weeds." Later on, though, he becomes more affectionate towards her, more complentary. The immedient negative reaction is less his actual impression, though, and more the reaction he expected to have based on everyone else's reaction to Alex.

Her clothes are equally as interesting; as Magnus describes it, Alex wears "battered rose high-tops, skinny lime green corduroy pants, a pink-and-green argyle sweater-vest over a white tee, and another pink cashmere sweather wrapped around the waist like a kilt" (pg. 50). Aside from the obvious fact that this outfit is a) bizzare, b) fire, and c) Alex's signature colors, which add a layer of style to what can otherwise be a somewhat boring series fashion-wise (excuse me, Blitz), the outfit reveals a crucial facet of Alex's backstory in a kind of subtle way. These are expensive clothes, like the Stella McCartney dress in Alex's room. Note the mention of fabrics (corduroy, cashmere) and patterns (argyle). These indicate wealth and status. Even the high-tops; shoes like that don't come cheap. But I'd like to return to the very first word of the section: "battered." Alex's wardrobe show-cases a proximity to wealth, but also shows that that proximity has been strained and lengthened, maybe for an extended period of time. Alex dresses like a rich person, but she isn't one. Least, not anymore.

The last word of that outfit-introduction is also of interest: "kilt." At the current moment, Magnus thinks that Alex is male. No one has indicated otherwise to him. Everyone has been referring to Alex with he/him pronouns. Samirah called Alex her "brother" (pg. 29). His first thought in seeing what he at first perceives as a guy with a jacket wrapped around the waist is That looks like a kilt. This thought tells us about Magnus: despite being open and accepting, he still has some lingering notions of gender conformity from his years in wider American society.

Magnus also indicates that the outfit "reminded me of a jester's motley, or the coloration of a venomous animal warning the whole world" (pg. 50). This is rather self-explanatory, but it's still worth noting that Magnus sees the outfit as something bizzare, strange, and even perhaps comical. This places Alex at odds with the other people Magnus has met. It also reveals that Magnus has zero fashion sense. But we already knew that.

After finishing up staring at the ensemble, Magnus finally gets around to actually looking Alex in the face. First Magnus says that he "forgot how to breathe" (pg. 50), which, yeah, relatable. This is justifed by saying that Alex has the same face as Loki, but the very same sentence that asserts that that's the case also suggests an alternative reason: Alex has "the same unearthly beauty" as her father. Here we can see the beginnings of Magnus's attraction to Alex, though at this point, he still has a lot of internalized homophobia. Though there's certainly some truth in that Magnus was unnerved by Alex's resemblance to Loki, the idea that Magnus pointed out that Alex was pretty without elaborating on that thought until about a chapter later— after he was informed that Alex was presently a girl— can tell us a lot about how Magnus perceives sex and beauty.

Of course, Alex's eyes are given special attention. She has cool eyes; what can I say? But I'd like to focus in on how Magnus here depicts Alex's heterochromia as "completely unnerving" (pg. 50). Again, let's contrast this with how he describes them after getting to know Alex a little better in Ship of the Dead. In Chapter 3, Magnus describes "[Alex's] dark brown eye and his amber eye like mismatched moons cresting the horizon" (pg. 25). Once again, this shows the development of their relationship— but this time, it's in a much more personal way. Eyes are the windows to the soul; they are culturally important and biologically important in inter-personal connections. In you look into someone's eyes, you're giving them your full attention, and you're implying a kind of closeness. The way that Magnus describes Alex's eyes in the second passage is downright intimate. At this point, he is in love with Alex, and it is clear when contrasting the two descriptions.

As my last point, I'd like to discuss Alex's first words on page: "'Point that rifle somewhere else, or I will wrap it around your neck like a bow tie'" (pg. 51). First of all, Alex saying this with a "perfect white smile" (pg. 51) on his face implies that she is used to being threatened. She is not afraid of being shot; she counters the promise of an attack with a promise of her own. This pleads the question: why is Alex accustomed to violence? What events of her past or qualities of her life have brought her to this point? The threat itself reveals Alex's trauma from being genderfluid in a society with rigid gender norms, as well as her antagonistic relationship with her father. Magnus makes a comment that Alex "might actually know how to tie a bow tie, which was kind scary arcane knowledge" (pg. 51). Like Alex's wardrobe, the idea that she may have experience in high-class fashion also implies her former status as a rich kid.

I could go on. I could break apart Alex saying "'Pleased to meet you all, I guess'" (pg. 51). There is a wealth of information in this short page span that tells us things about Alex Fierro in the present moment, quietly demonstrates things about her past, and characterizes the narrator Magnus Chase. This passage is also effective in hindsight in marking the progress of Magnus and Alex's relationship.

But I'd like to take a step back and look at not the pieces, but the whole picture. Alex Fierro gets a full page of pure description— her outfit, her face— and about a chapter of introduction. This comes after several chapters of build-up. Alex Fierro is an important character you need to keep your eyes on. Alex Fierro is emotionally significant to the main character, Magnus Chase. Alex Fierro is one of the most developed and well-rounded characters that Rick Riordan has ever written— heck, she's one of the best characters in middle-grade books period. The extended emphasis on her and her alone tells us exactly what role she's going to play in this story: she's the star.

[foxytonic]

A Kiss to Give Up Control

(Based on rolling a 17 for this meme/prompt generator)

Fandom: AFK Arena

Pairing: Niru/Silas, technically Niru/Shemira/Silas

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mention of drowning (as a metaphor)

Summary: Silas is fed up with the way he and other science-minded necromancers are being treated at the university, so he confides in Niru, who swiftly reassures him and provides him with a loving distraction. Story is under the cut.

He couldn’t do this anymore. Not tonight. Not for the foreseeable future, which in Silas’s case was as up in the air as the silver moon, bright yet distant stars, and cursed sun. Izold had been a great success; of that he was undeniably certain. The great lout was once again a damn fine killing machine soldier. He performed brilliantly, was fully in control of his mental and physical faculties, and regarded Silas highly as a comrade and savior.

One might think that a shining example of ingenuity and scientific genius might finally gain a student some respect at a university designed specifically to accommodate and foster necromancers of any caliber. Yet even they had more love for the fickle arcane arts than for the method to his madness. He’d screeched as much at Niru after they’d laughed him out of the largest lecture hall on campus. The Graveborn doctor had the sense to not chastise him for forgetting the importance of one’s eardrums, listening patiently instead as Silas ranted and raved about how he’d given up his mortal life to continue his research, how Izold had done the same, and how every time he’d had a breakthrough he’d been kicked down again. And again. And again and again and again.

“It feels…I don’t know, it just sort of feels like…like I’m drowning, and every time I think I might breach the surface, something or someone keeps latching onto me and yanking me back down, further and further into the inky depths. I don’t know what the fuck else to do, Niru! No matter how hard I try, I can’t prove to anyone who thinks they’re worth anything that I belong here, or that I deserve to walk the same ground as them!”

Niru sighed and leaned his scythe gently against the horrendously cluttered desk before striding ethereally over to his friend. Bony yet strong arms wrapped around the distressed man, who would normally tower over everyone else but could comfortably tuck his head under Niru’s chin when the doctor stood at his full height instead of slouching. He did so now, trembling frame clinging to Niru like a lifeline. “I think you belong here,” the doctor countered calmly, slender fingers idly playing with Silas’s cropped hair as he continued to hold him. “You should know that by now, love. Shemira would say the same if she were in here with us. Much more aggressively, I might add. In fact, she probably would have drained whatever semblance of life remained in those shambling, old, pretentious corpses beforehand.”

There was a small, wry snort of laughter from where Silas had buried his scarred face in Niru’s neck and shoulder, which brought a smile to the older Graveborn’s sharp, gaunt, yet still miraculously handsome face. Small victories. “She would, wouldn’t she?” was the quiet reply. “You really know how to pick…interesting partners. I mean that in the best way, of course.”

“And I take it as the highest of compliments,” Niru retorted, leaving a peck of a kiss at the crown of Silas’s head to emphasize his point. “Between my lovely wife and our brooding genius of a lover, I can’t say that the afterlife is boring.”

Silas made a sort of noise that Niru knew to mean that he was definitely blushing, then pulled back just enough to be able to look up at his face. “Distract me then? Please? I need to find a way to let this go before it fucking eats me alive, and I…I can’t do it alone. I need your help. Just make me forget about it for a while.” The hand that had been playing with his hair moved to lightly caress the hollow of his cheekbone, and Silas leaned greedily into the touch. Niru was always so gentle with him in the beginning. He allowed the doctor to remove his mask, only for his scarred lips to be captured in a quick, passionate kiss, which he gladly melted into. Niru’s other arm tightened it’s grip on his waist, pulling their hips flush against each other. While his first instinct would normally be to fight back a little and vie for dominance, he currently didn’t have that in him. He didn’t want to. Trying to gain control of his own life had exhausted him, so for now, he relinquished control of his body over to Niru, whom he knew he could trust. There was something so cathartic about it. Allowing someone he loved dearly to take the reigns. Letting that person push him up against a wall and shove his tongue down his throat without resistance, or lay him down on his own desk and kiss him senseless. It was much more relaxing than trying to give as much as he got. Silas let Niru do anything and everything he wanted, relishing in every kiss, every love bite, and every reassuring word, and in return he felt all of his worries slip away.