#vander headcanons

- Vander is completely enchanted by your lips. Every chance he gets, especially when he cradles your face in his hands, he can’t resist the urge to brush his thumb over them, savoring their softness. It’s also no wonder how primal it makes him feel considering how your own natural instinct is to suck the skin of his thumb gently. Every. Single. Time.

- He can’t help but prod at them until you let him breach the surface. You’re always so hungry for a taste of him, no matter if it’s his cock or his fingers. Always so insatiable, and deeply unsatisfied until moments like these when you’re greedily swirling your tongue around his finger.

- He never wastes time in hooking his thumb into your mouth, toying with making you and your tongue slave to find it. The slickness of your saliva and the sounds that follow are nothing short of immaculate, a perfect blend of neediness and yearning that leave him desperately smitten.

- The way you whimper, and the way your thighs grind together to ease the tension and aching in your clit drives him to the brink—the sounds unraveling him, each one igniting the flames of his own aches.

- He wants nothing more than to switch his fingers out for his cock— but unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to hear you as well. His fingers are slim enough to let the noise pass over them, but his cock would be a different story.

- Vander is a gentle lover by nature, but— like any part of nature, he has his more unpredictable moments. His ‘natural disasters’ or sorts. Though—you wouldn’t necessarily call them ‘disasters’.

- Just as easily as it is for him to spend hours tenderly ramming his cock into you, during more ferocious, needy moments, he’ll waste no time in fucking you senseless. Despite it mainly happening every blue moon, he knew when you needed it like this, and he knew that you’d be willing to take it on the days he needed it like this.

- You both have happily accepted that he’s a man with a wild side to be nurtured every now and then. And you’re so good at nurturing it for him. When laying in bed, he’s started fucking you from behind, quickly losing his patience for tenderness. He’s sat upright against the headboard, and pulled you on top of him, all without ever disconnecting from you for even a moment.

- With your back pressed to his chest, he cups under your knees, almost folding you in half from the way he gripped and pulled them back- as he started slamming his hips at a merciless pace. The angle had you practically foaming at the mouth, considering—with his given strength—he uses minimal effort to bounce you up and down to meet the way he was snapping his hips up into you. The way your ass bounced on his legs is a sight that constantly makes his dick twitch when he thinks back to it.

- The screams you could never bother to try stifling almost kept him up at night sometimes. Too many times have the recollections made him overfill a pint or two behind the bar counter, earning questioning glances from bar patrons. He can’t always help the way his mind wanders when he has you to ravish every night.

- Vander often says things like:

“C’mon Angel— Look at me while you suck my cock dry. I wanna see those pretty little eyes of yours.”

“That’s it— Attagirl. Atta-fuckin’-girl.”

Dom!Vander HC’s

- Will make you kneel on the ground, mouth wide open, pussy dripping, and leave you like that. He’d tell you that you weren’t allowed to swallow your spit. He’d then pull up a chair and sit in front of you, despicably far, and just watch you. He’d wait until your shirt became transparent from how much drool had fallen on it. Then—only then, would he speak.

- “Crawl…” he commands.

- You obey. You crawl to him, almost desperately quick, until you stop at his boots. He’d be tempted to make you grind on them, but he prefers his thighs for that.

- You crawl onto him, straddling one of his massive thighs.

- Just a few minutes into him making you grind yourself down on it, his blue jeans are just as soaked as your shirt.

- “Attagirl.” He’d coo as he’d start guiding your hips for you with his hands. It’s your fault if you think he’s going to let you cum anytime soon, though.

- When he halts all movement once you’re practically falling off the edge of your orgasm, he’d tut at you when you keep trying to desperately find the friction again.

- “Don’t you fight me.” He’d snap as you greedily tried to chase your orgasm, thrashing your hips around against his grip.

- He’d pull your hair and make you look at him, his other hand holding your jaw with contempt.

- Denial was his virtue. He won’t let you cum until you’re crying and begging for mercy.

- “Cry for me, Angel.” He’d command, needing to see the tears in your eyes while you begged for release.

- When you’d get too embarrassed to do so, he’d grip your face tighter.

- “Let. Me. Hear. You.” So you do. You let it out.

- And then—only then, will he slip his thick fingers in you.

- “Excellent. Such a good girl. Now. Get yourself off on daddy’s fingers, yeah?” He’d purr.

Jayce gets biggest, warmest smile dawns on his face when he sees you wearing one of his shirts to bed. It reaches past your thighs, it hangs off your shoulders, the sleeves are too long for you, it looks baggy on your frame. He pulls you in and runs his hands across your soft, supple thighs, tapping against the bite and kiss marks he knows he left there the night before and is clearly proud of and if you wear his clothes to bed every night he will be adding to those marks. When you try to remove his shirt he stops you, actually you should sleep in it from now it, you look very cozy and very cute wearing his shirt.

Ekko doesn't comment on it at first, he waits for you to bring it up but it's been going on for weeks now. Every time his smile gets bigger, he shakes his head when he sees you trying to be sneaky about it because you really can't pretend you're not stealing his shirts or overalls. And yet you do, you act like you don't know that he knows so when he slips his hands into the back pockets and pulls you in for a kiss you can act like you never saw that coming. There's a reason he never commented on you wearing his clothes, he thinks it looks too good on you to ever think about complaining about it.

Vander gives a lot of his clothes to his kids and them taking his clothes is normal for him but he never expected that you would also take one of his shirts. You took one of his favorite ones too, one that he wore quite often and everyone knew it as his shirt. So when you walked out and did your job while wearing it everyone turned to him and grinned knowingly, they all know that you're his girlfriend, he would never hide that but he never thought you'd flaunt it in front of everyone. When he gets a different shirt that becomes his new favorite, and you will not take that one, you can match, like a couple.

Silco sees you wearing his signature coat and his first instinct is to tell you to give it back but then he notices that it doesn't look too bad on you, and if he could he would let you have it. Unfortunately that is his absolute favorite coat, his signature coat, so he can't really let you have it. But he can let you wear it when on ocassion, or he will put it over your shoulders on colder nights when the two of you walk to his place from his office, but you really should ask before you take his stuff. He's had to many stuff vanish because of Jinx, he doesn't want his girlfriend, someday his wife, enabling her further.

It's strikingly obvious to both you, and to everyone around you, that JAYCE is especially fond of you, given how much he's touching you. They're all innocent gestures, like his huge hand resting on your upper arm, or on the small of your back when the two of you walk next to each other, or the warm hug he pulls you into when seeing you for the first time that day, strong arms inescapable, but it happens too often to be a coincidence. Whether he himself knows he's doing it is debatable — your best guess is that it comes so naturally to him that he barely even notices.

He's surprisingly attentive when it comes to your wellbeing — it shows in him always having a blanket on hand, or him giving you his jacket, when you're cold, in him asking if you've eaten already and keeping foods you like around.

His family's work is forging, and even though he's not quite as used to working on something this delicate, he does extraordinarily well when it comes to making you jewellery, working every night until there's no flaws to be detected. He also asks Mel or Viktor — Mel, preferably; subtlety is more her strength — to figure out what kind of gemstones you prefer to use those in the design.

SILCO is a man who values privacy — and yet, he has no issue with you constantly hanging around his office. Really, he's weak enough for you that he might attempt to scold you when you sit on his desk, pushing important documents to the side, or even on his lap while he's working, claiming your rightful place, arms looped around his neck, but his words never come off as truly strict, tone exasperated, but he'd never do anything against it. At this point, his office is as much your space as it is his, given how your belongings lie around everywhere — your lipgloss on his desk, your spare jacket on his wall, your favourite snacks secretly stocked in his drawers.

He's strikingly loyal, never even looking twice at someone else, given how he can only see himself being with you. Silco's always thinking of you, which shows not only in the way he brings you small gifts and trinkets — not unlike a crow — whenever he has to traverse the Undercity, but also through him wanting to keep your relationship a secret. It's most likely a sensitive topic, because he doesn't want you to think he's ashamed of you, never, but he's an influential man, and he just cannot stand the idea of someone harming you because of your connection to him. He's terrified of losing you.

VANDER is caring by nature, it shows in the way he protects his children and friends, his loved ones, his people. Still, with you, it's all the more obvious. Whenever you make your way to the bar, spending nights and early mornings at The Last Drop, he has your favourite drink already poured for you, including any modifications and snacks you like. In his mind, there's a whole section of facts about you, including your favourite positions to sleep in, your most beloved outfits, and the food you always ask for at the street vendor the two of you usually visit, and he couldn't stop himself from constantly gaining more information about what you like and dislike if he tried.

He's fond of physical affection, both strong arms wrapped around your waist when the two of you are sleeping, or the large of his hand splayed out on your lower back when he's guiding you through the crowds gathering in the bar. Not only does he simply enjoy touching you, the person he loves so very close to him, but he also wants to know you're safe at all times — if any stranger approaches you, setting you on edge, he's right there by your side. At night, he might cling to you a bit more tightly than usual when he's had bad thoughts of losing you the day long.

SEVIKA is entirely smitten by you. It's obvious enough that some of her colleagues comment on it, laughing and jeering at the heart-eyes she gives you whenever you walk by, gaze lingering for way too long, roaming over the curves of your hip and the way your hair moves in the wind. She's not bothered by anyone poking fun at her; yeah, she's heads over heels for you. So what?

She also really enjoys listening to you talk. After a hard day of work, there's nothing more relaxing to her than simply focusing on you, on your voice, on the peculiar way you pronounce certain words, and when she rests her head in your lap, your fingers gently threading through her hair, she just wants you to ramble about whatever comes to your mind.

Compared to Vander, her protection of you is mostly verbal — though that does not mean she wouldn't punch a guy until he's coughing blood if he looked at you the wrong way. Still, she's influential, imposing enough with just a raised eyebrow and a warning word for almost anyone to turn, tail between their legs, when they're staring at you for even a moment too long.

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Violet(Vi)

does NOT like the snow

Vi can be bundled up in like 4 jackets and will still freeze her ass off

Hates how stiff her hands get in the cold

feels like it immobilizes her ability to throw a solid punch

Will sleep with you on top of her or sleep on top of you to absorb your body heat at night

plays hockey or some form of it when she can find a frozen pond to skate on

Jinx

She's like that one kid at recess during elementary years that refuses to wear a jacket even when it's negative degrees out

definitely gets sick because of that and refuses to admit to you that's the reason why she got ill

MAKES SNOW ANGELS WITH YOU ANY CHANCE SHE GETS

makes paper snowflakes with you to decorate her hideout

will stick her tongue out to catch snowflakes

Ekko

lwk becomes an Olympic snowboarder

he turns off the hover-mode on his board and will hit every hill he can find

slides down frosty rails to any stairway he comes across

starts SO MANY snowball fights

definitely makes you go sledding with him

plays hockey with Vi

Is a hot cocoa FANATIC and makes the best homemade hot chocolate

Sevika

Sevika loves the colder months

She runs hot and alike jinx will rarely wear a proper jacket in the cold

If you're outside she'll stick the hand of her metal arm under your shirt just to piss you off

will sing along to festive/holiday music under her breath

denies it if you catch her though

Puts peppermint schnapps in her coffee as a "festive" drink

glares at you when you put a Santa hat on her head

Y'know the grumpy cat w the Santa hat plushy? Yeah. That's her

but still wears it until she falls asleep later that night

Silco

he's like the bougie aunt

The moment it snows he brings out his custom fur trench coat with the overly fuzzy rimmed hood

will wrap you up in his coat with him

has a warm drink in his hands at all times whether that's coffee, hot cocoa or tea

does the little shoulder-shimmy-thing as he breathes in the steam from his cup

he doesn't mind the snow but HATES the feeling of wet socks if he isn't wearing boots

Mel

You weave Mel a small bracelet for a special achievement or occasion; a birthday, and anniversary, a particularly good step in legislation that you know that she’s been trying to push for you don’t know how long. You presented it to her in a little box, topped with a neat bow, and the face that she had made when opening it? That spark of curiosity in her eye, that morphed into sheer, unadulterated joy when she saw what it was? Bliss - priceless bliss. 

She wears the thing everywhere, except for when she’s bathing - she doesn’t want to risk it being damaged by getting wet. It doesn’t matter to her whether or not it matches with her outfit, she’ll find some way to incorporate it. She absolutely loves talking about it, too - if someone asks about it, she’ll spend a minimum of 5 to 10 minutes explaining to them that you made it for her, what occasion you gave it to her, and then proceed to gush about you some more - how talented you are, how wonderful you are, how much she loves you. It’s perhaps the only instance she will ever break that collected air about her. 

She also asks that you make yourself one, or better yet, teach her how to make them, so she can make you one for yourself. “So we can match,” She’d tell you, with a happy smile on her face. Even though you’re not in the public eye nearly as much as she is, being able to wear something that’s matching with her means a great deal to Mel. A little, unspoken connection between the two of you. 

If she ever loses the bracelet or it becomes damaged beyond repair, she’s rather upset. It doesn’t outwardly last for very long - she tells you the sad news with an incredibly despondent look, handing you the threads if she has them. After that, she moves on. At least, that’s how it appears to the untrained eye. But you notice how her fingers drift to her wrist, trying to fiddle with fabric that is no longer there. Or, if it’s an occasion where she’d wear it in her hair instead, it’s hard to miss the way that her fingers will still try to seek it out, to no avail. You can’t bear it for more than a week before you give her a new one - just the same as the original, but all the more meaningful to her. You had known, noticed how much she missed it. She’s ever so thankful to have such an attentive and creative partner.

Vander

Vander has a very… Minimal wardrobe - and unfortunately, most of his articles are falling apart, or have holes in them. He does a lot of repairs for them himself; for having such big hands, he’s surprisingly adroit with a needle and thread. With a rather considerable supply of rags, he saw no real reason to splash out money on himself when it could easily be spend on other, better things - clothes for the children, or small needed improvements for The Last Drop. He’s had handmade things given to him before - mostly twisted bracelets, from Powder. 

So when you hand him the big, thick jumper you had spent a week making? He was stunned. Grateful, but stunned. And he absolutely loves it. It’s a dark blue - a similar shade to a couple of other items in his wardrobe, so clearly you had been paying attention to what he had been wearing and what colours looked good on him - or at any rate, what colours you liked to see on him. And the fit was wonderful, too. He made a joke about you taking his measurements in his sleep, to which you both heartily laughed. 

From then on, almost every evening, you see him wearing it once the sun goes down. Before you had made it, he very rarely wore anything with long sleeves, other than the old jacket he wore when leaving to go out and about. Whenever someone asks him about his sudden change in style, he replies with a simple; “Nights are getting cold down here, now.” Regardless of whether that’s true or not, that’s the story he sticks with. He hates having to part with it in Summer time, but… Even he has to admit that it is just far too hot to wear during that time of year. 

He washes it ‘himself’ - by that, I mean he makes sure that it’s back in his possession the very moment that it’s dry enough to wear again. He doesn’t part with it for any longer than what he thinks is absolutely necessary. You’ve had to devise a system where it’s one of the first things to be washed on laundry days - that way there was a much better chance of it being dry come sundown. And he’s incredibly grumpy if you have to take it to sew any wear-and-tear - you never tend to have it for more than a day, but you can tell the question of ‘when am I getting it back?’ simmers just below the surface. 

Ambessa

You tailor her a cloak. Yes, she has many, and yours doesn’t stand out too much when put beside any of the other bespoke pieces she’s had made  for herself. But to Ambessa? It is a wonderful thing; easily one of her favourites. Simply because you had turned your hand to a craft, for her. She sees it as an act of devotion - even if, in comparison to the other acts she has been shown by the people beneath her, it is small. 

She wears it only to the most intimate of occasions; an evening spent with you savouring cuisine, or perhaps a night spent at the theatre house. Very rarely has it ever been used for more political meetings. When it is, it’s usually one-on-one, and for the reason that wearing something so personal makes any outside party think Ambessa is being open with them; making them more relaxed in the process. If she’s wearing it in front of someone other than yourself, it’s always as a political choice. 

She doesn’t wear it enough for it to get damaged naturally, but there is a chance that it may get torn via other means. Most likely a blade. If someone dared to do so, she would be furious - plain and simple. Any rapport that the opposing figure may have built with her would disappear in an instant, as quickly as the cut was made. Because despite her never really telling you - or anyone - anything about how she felt about this particular cloak, it meant a great deal to her. It meant more to her than any of the other cloaks in her extensive wardrobe. 

Ambessa doesn’t demand you make another one for her, nor does she dwell on the fact that the first one has been ruined or destroyed. She just… Makes you aware, disposes of the tatters, and leaves it at that. She doesn’t seem to be all that bothered by it - but she is. She knows the time and care that went into making it, she knows of the toils that you went through to make sure she had something made by you to wear. She also knows that if you want to make her another, you will do so of your own decision and accord - she doesn’t need to force you. Beyond that - if you choose to make her another one, it’ll just further prove to her your devotion. 

Viktor

You made Viktor a pair of gloves - it can get rather cold in the lab when the sun isn’t streaming directly through the large windows. For the first few days you think that he really likes the gift! He had thanked you heartily when you had given them to him, clearly appreciating the time and effort that you had put into them. It wasn’t until you visited him during one of his multiple-day stints in the lab when you realised he… Wasn’t wearing them. At all. They were neatly placed, one on top of the other, at the end of one of the cluttered desks. 

Viktor notices the way you eye that corner of the desk several times throughout your visit. Eventually, when you bring it up, he gives you a very simple answer; “Unfortunately, though they are warm… The fingers make it rather difficult for me to complete my more… Delicate tasks, where dexterity is key.” He shrugs, turning his attention back to his desk. So, it isn’t that he doesn’t appreciate your gift to him, it just makes his job slightly more challenging - as if it isn’t already, at some points. He assures you, though, that he wears them to and from the laboratory when he feels it is too cold for him. 

So, you decide to make him another pair - this time with some changes. Instead of making fingered gloves, you make mittens… With a button on the back so that Viktor could pin the top back, letting him still wear the mittens as he completed the various fiddly tasks his research needed. From then on when you visit, you don’t see the mittens discarded at the corner of his desk waiting for the end of the day, but instead on his hands where they belonged. 

To say that Viktor is thankful for your gift - especially this revised version - is an understatement. For far too long he had just powered through the inconvenience of being a bit cold most of the time. Now, he had a way to be comfortable, and do his job at the same time. And truthfully, it felt like an absolute game changer. No longer were his fingers and joints stiff and at points struggling to stay as steady as he needed them to. No longer did he have to deal with the gruelling wait of trying and willing his hand to be still for a moment. And no longer does he have to rub his hands together like some neglected waif, he just has to pop his mittens on and just keep on working. They quickly become a stable of the bag he takes to the lab; he rarely ever leaves without them, if ever.

Jayce

You knit Jayce a scarf - only a small one, a first project, but Jayce loves it. When you first hand it to him, he cradles it in his hands as he gazes down at it, almost on the verge of tears. He used to have many pieces like this made for him, by his mother - but as he grew older, they became less frequent. Not that he blamed his mother, of course, he understood that getting older meant there were other responsibilities they both had to perform. But to have a handmade item now, in his hands, he’s overjoyed. It’s simple in its design - just a deep blue, but he loves it. 

He wears the damn thing everywhere he can - during Autumn. Winter, Spring. Any time there’s even the slightest of breezes, out comes the scarf. You find it quite sweet, really, the fact that something so simple was something that meant so much to him. “Well, of course I love it,” Jayce replies when you ask about it, sounding mildly annoyed that you thought he wouldn’t. “You made it for me. You could have thrown it out, frogged it, or donated it… But you didn’t. And I’m… I love you for it. Well, for more than that, but…” He’d laugh quietly at himself. “... You know what I mean.” 

He wears the thing so much, that soon enough - much sooner than he’d have liked - the poor article is starting to fall apart. He’s in denial about it for quite a while, too - he’d rather do anything other than admit to himself that one of his favourite pieces of clothing is coming to the end of it’s time. Eventually he gets to the point where he packs the scarf away - better to have it stored for him to get out from time to time, than for it to completely crumble and have to be thrown away. He sulks for a long time after this, a long time. He misses his scarf. Sure, it’s ‘just a bit of clothing’, but to him it was almost like a part of him at some points. 

𝐉𝐀𝐘𝐂𝐄

— is the type that once he gets a taste, he doesn’t want to stop.

his hazel eyes glance down at your lips and they linger for a long moment, full of want and need as he debates on kissing you; can see the gears turning inside his head. until jayce realizes he’s staring for a little longer than he should and breaks out in a little embarrassed smile, flashing his fangs and that cute little gap in his teeth. “sorry…” he apologizes, ripping his eyes back up to yours.

“it’s okay.” you whisper; as if you were any better than he was, staring at his tilted lips. craving and wanting him with so much tension, it could surely be cut with a knife.

jayce chuckles nervously under his breath but leans forward despite his hesitation, pushing aside any and all of his worries, as he presses his lips gently against yours. it’s a small, soft peck of a kiss; just enough for him to get a sweet taste of you. he leans back a little then, eyes hazy as if he’s become intoxicated with just one kiss. and before either of you can voice an opinion on your first kiss, jayce is eagerly moving on.

“one more.” he mutters, seeking your lips again. he plants a firm kiss against you this time. his breathing is quickly turning into wild rasps as he presses his lips again and again into yours. his hand are roaming along every inch of your body. fingers grasping at your thighs, digging gently into your skin, smoothing across your waist, tugging you into his own lap while his lips continue to find yours.

he whispers countless of pleas and begs of just “one more” between each kiss until they’re no longer just quick pecks and evolve into fuller, far more passionate kisses. one giant hand runs up your thigh again while his other moves to hook around the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. “taste so good.” jayce whispers just as his tongue runs along your bottom lip.

“more.” he mutters across your reddening lips. “please need a little more…” he adds in a huff, waiting for you to give him the green light.

he’s got your head spinning in circles; breathless while your lips still tingle from his desperate make out. your face burns with a drunken blush from the kiss and you’re not entirely sure if you can find the right words to say, so instead you capture his lips now.

and it’s the only answer he needs before he’s desperately sweeping you back into a passionate make out session.

𝐕𝐈𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐑

— is the type who kisses you by total accident one day and then flees.

it had just been you and viktor in the lab together for days on end. the two of you had worked through countless of formula errors, spent every sleepless night together, drank enough coffee that it could replace every ounce of water in your body; and yet you two enjoyed it more than anything. you laughed, brainstormed, and have come closer than you’ve ever had before.

it was…a little obvious that you liked viktor, well to your knowledge it was but not so much to viktor; or so it seemed.

“you’ve done it!” you exclaim, excitement creeping into your voice as you stand from your chair as vik does the same. you crowd over vik’s shoulder to get a better look at the smooth, luminous glass ball, eyes wide open as you stare at the stabilized hex crystal before you. “you’ve actually done it!”

“no,” vik speaks, ripping off his goggles as he stares up at you. “i could not have done this without you. you’ve contributed so much! we did it.” he adds before tossing his goggles off to the side. he quickly tries to gather any paperwork and journal entries the two of you had written in the last few days; eager to rush off and show his work to heimerdinger and the council. and he says little else, too excited to show off his breakthrough, pocketing the hex crystal as he hurries for the lab door.

in his flurry, he forgets a very important piece of paperwork. you grab it, turning towards the door to the lab where viktor had started heading off towards to, waving it in the air before vik can get too far. “viktor! you forgot something!”

vik stops just at the door and spins on his heel to come hurriedly back to you. but instead of taking the note and continuing on his journey to the council room, he’s instead closing the distance between you and him very quickly; quick enough you don’t have time to think, let alone react as vik is sweeping forward to press his lips fully into yours.

he kisses you then, passionate and full of just pure excitement for the things you two have managed to do. and the kiss is far more amazing than anything you could have imagined but it’s cut entirely too short when vik is suddenly realizing all too fast exactly what he’s done and breaking away. he backs up, damn near tripping over his own cane in his hurry, as he takes the paper right out of your hand. he mutters a goodbye and nothing else before he’s gone; just as quickly as he had kissed you.

you stand frozen, in humbled shock, debating if that had actually happened or not. but the warmth blooming across your lips and face is a dead giveaway that yes, it did in fact happen.

and you smile with the thought that this could be the start of something wonderful…and yet it’s only the start of viktor avoiding you at any cost.

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑

— is the type to be a little embarrassed because of his age but really he’s been holding back for too long.

“you don’t really want this, do ya? i’m practically an old man now.” vander laughs from behind his bar top. he sips on the cheap whiskey he’s been drinking the entire night, glancing at you over the rim.

everyone else from the bar had gone home for the night but you had decided to stick around for a little bit longer; just for this. for him. you swirl your drink around inside your cup, glancing between the moving liquid and vander’s handsome face. you had been dropping hints for, god knows how long, that you wanted him, and now that it was just the two of you…you were willing to push your luck a little to get exactly what you wanted.

“mmm i know.” you respond, taking a sip off your own alcohol of choice that night. “that’s what i like about you though.” you add with a smirk.

your response only makes him laugh again, shaking his head. he pushes his cup out of the way and off to the side, most likely empty and definitely forgotten for the rest of the night, as he settles his hands on the edge of his bar. “that so?” he asks with a grin.

you nod, mirroring his grin right back at him. if you were given the chance sooner, you would’ve dragged him out of the bar two and a half hours ago.

“what if this old man can’t keep up with you?”

now it was your turn to chuckle as you crawl up onto the bar, sliding across the wood surface until you’re sitting pretty right between his settled hands. you move your legs to dangle on the other side of the counter, closing the gap as much as you can. “guess you’re just going to have to find out, hmm?” you respond, running a hand down the front of his broad chest.

while he’s still a little hesitant, it doesn’t take anymore convincing as soon as the distance is closed. his gaze is hungry, always has been, as he settles his eyes onto your pretty face. he’s sucking in a deep breath when the last bit of his resolve vanishes. and it’s his turn to close the gap now as he captures your lips in one swift movement. he’s feverishly kissing you, deep and full of yearning. gripping the edge of the bar like his life depends on it, keeping himself upright and from what you can only assume is to hold himself back just a tiny bit; didn’t want to scare you off with just how badly he wanted you too.

vander grunts against your lips, reaching with a large hand to caress the side of your neck, deepening the kiss with a swirl of his tongue meshing into your own before he’s huffing a deep breath and breaking off the kiss. he pants against your slowly swelling lips, still keeping himself close but far enough away you’d have to chase after his lips if you wanted anymore.

“gonna ask again, you sure about this?” vander mutters. and you can see it in his gray eyes, the want and the need he holds for you and how he’s holding himself back, just in case you may have changed your mind.

When you and Vander were casually going on dates, he had asked you what you were looking in a relationship. While you wanted something long term, you didn't want to put pressure on whatever you had with him, and you were open about this with him. He understood, and you had both agreed to go with the flow.

It took only a few months for him to move in with you at your apartment. It was a bit of an unconventional building, what with the shop running underneath it and all, but it was quiet most days. Vander was still working at the mines, and while he would do his best to reassure you about the working conditions, you were still nervous about his safety. Him and Silco wanted to quit to start up a pub in the area, and the perfect opportunity arose when the owner of the store downstairs closed up shop. After coming home one day, he surprised you with the new commercial lease agreement.

Soon enough, your lives became incredibly busy; you had quit your part time to focus on your last college exam season before gaining your degree, and he was busy with the renovations and his last month of mining work. By the time you were going to sleep, he was already waking up to go clock in— quality of sleep being the first real issue between the two of you. Though you were also dissatisfied with not spending quality time with your boyfriend, to which he promised to make up for.

After you were awarded your degree, The Last Drop had officially opened. You had celebrated the day with friends and family, and after they had left, spent the night with Vander, who was keen on keeping his promise. It was a day well commemorated and a night well remembered.

Nearing your next anniversary with him, Vander had proposed to you. He had had a busy and frankly tiring day, and all that he wanted to do after heading upstairs was lay down and crash for a few hours. But you had been making dinner for the two of you, and by the amount of pots in the sink, you had been in the kitchen for a while. You hadn't yet noticed him leaning on the doorway to the kitchen, but he was looking at you with the utmost fondness. Not wanting to spook you (especially with burning surfaces nearby), he had knocked on the doorframe. You, not expecting the sudden noise, was thrown off kilter— the wooden spoon in your hand clattering to the floor. "Shit, sorry, I'll clean that up," he says, already grabbing a cloth. His knee cracks a bit as he gets down to wipe at the floor, and then at your ankle when he notices a splotch of sauce there too. He looks up at you suddenly, but you don't quite catch his words beneath the sounds of the steaming pots. He near whispers it again, but this time you hear it. "Marry me?" His eyes are dilated, his attention devoted entirely to you, his hand still absentmindedly wiping at your foot. You stare at the devout look on his face for only a second before joining him on the floor in a tackle-like hug. You say yes so many times it started to echo like prayer.

You were both equally involved in the wedding preparations, even with the rising popularity of The Last Drop. It was tough at times to find the time to plan, but it was made simpler with you and Vander sharing a similar vision.

The wedding was intimate and cozy— exactly as you had both wanted it. A quiet ceremony tucked away in a garden where you had shared the first date with Vander all those years ago. Only friends and family were invited, so it was a comforting and welcoming feel. Clover covered the ground in a thick soft carpet, and colorful lights were strung up in the bushes. White chairs were layed in lines as pews, and at the center of it all, Vander was waiting at the foot of a weeping willow tree. You walked up the aisle to the tune of soft music, in a flowing white dress you helped embroider. Vander cried when he saw you, his eyes still glossy by the time you said "I do."

Your vows to him were eloquent though your deliverance interrupted by your giddy laughter, his hands enveloped in yours in a careful squeeze. His vows to you were long, but not a moment went by where he wasn't gazing into your eyes as he spoke, his voice a bit shaky. Midway through he forgot he was supposed to project his voice, and spoke only to you. "You are the safest place I have ever known, and I will spent the rest of my life making sure you feel that way too. For the rest of our lives I will give you everything that I am. I love you—" You don't wait for the officiant's cue to kiss Vander.

Cut to the honeymoon, y'all are worse than wtv Bella and Edward had going on. Neither of you were walking steadily after that 🙏

ARCANE MASTERLIST !

It was the four of you against the world. Silco, Vander, Felicia and you. You and Felicia were like siblings, basically blood. She was the one to comfort you when you were hurting, hold your hair when you were sick or too drunk to think, and love you even at your worst. And you did the same for her, it's how it had always been.

Then she introduced you to her two other friends, Vander and Silco. You had heard about them, and would be lying if you said you hadn't been curious, but had yet to meet them. And the moment you did, you knew you were doomed. Vander's strong build and playful attitude, and Silco's lean yet strong body and his studious and strategic outlook, had you in shackles almost immediately.

But before any romance could blossom, you became friends. And soon your duo with Felicia became a quartet. Where one of you was, there was most likely to be the other three as well. You all grew immensely close.

Felicia was obviously the first to catch on to the feelings between the three of you, you all were her best friends after all. And while some friends may feel left out if their friend group started to date with the exception of them, Not Felicia. Her platonic love for you three, and a lover of her own, left no room for jealousy. And so she hatched a plan.

It didn't take much to coerce the three of you into a relationship for you had already been eyeing each other and flirting. She couldn't have been happier to know her friends were happy together.

The three of you made sure to spend lots of time with Felicia still, while going on dates and outings with just the three of you. Vander was all bright smiles and warm hugs, while Silco tended to be more soft smiles while watching the two of you, and occasionally stepping in to join the fun.

Then Felicia came to the three of you with the news of her pregnancy. You all couldn't have been happier. Sure, it was a dangerous world you lived in. But the idea of being able to spoil a little niece or nephew brought joy to your hearts.

You and Felicia had always talked about having kids at the same time, so they could be best friends and have someone who could love them as you and Felicia do. And since she had told you of her own pregnancy she had made a few joking comments about you needing to speed things up in the baby department.

You knew she was only joking, and would never hurry you or pressure you to have kids, but it stuck with you. You wanted them. You wanted little Silcos and little Vanders running around and terrorizing their fathers. You wanted little baby feet waddling through the kitchen. You wanted dirty diapers and child-like laughter.

And so soon you went to your own lovers with a request on your heart. You asked the two men for their thoughts on children, going so far as to bring up what Vander had said months ago when Felicia told you about her own. “What's the point if you can't raise an ankle biter or two?” They were filled with joy, and maybe a few reservations. The three of you talked and talked about it. How you wanted to parent, were you ready, and what plans you three had for the future.

And soon you came to see a smiling Felicia, holding a babbling Vi, with news of a little one to come. Nine months later and home you came with a calm little Claggor. He was a chunky baby, his little limbs almost disappearing in his body. But he was your sweet little baby boy.

“The parents,” as the kids would later come to call you four (or five if including Conol) , bought or made so many matching sets of clothes and pj's for the two babies.

Within a year and a half after the births of Clagor and Vi, you brought home a curious little Mylo. He was tiny, even for a baby, and the nurses had to watch over him for a little longer than normal in order to make sure he was all right. But he was, and soon enough you were given the ok and being told he would be more than fine.

Claggor was very happy to have a little brother. He was always trying to get Mylo in on the fun, even if he didn't add much but a smile and bright laughter. Vi had her reservations about another cousin at first, but as soon as she actually saw baby Mylo she felt this protective instinct show up. She didn't like it when strangers asked to hold the baby and she didn't like it when he cried. It made her worried, and she would almost always end up sad or crying too.

Your family only grew, and so did you and your partner's love. Just as you thought your heart would be too full of love to add another person to the list, another person came along and your heart somehow grew to fit them in. Powder was no exception.

3 years after Mylo went home with you, Felicia came to your house with a wide eyed Powder. Claggor treated his cousin much like he did Mylo. Attempting to always have her in on the fun and trying to make her smile as much as he could. Mylo was wary of her. He didn't like all of her crying, and he didn't like her inability to do much but simply sit there.

But Vi was obsessed with her new baby sister. She showed Powder off to everyone, while not letting any strangers touch her, and bragged about how cute of a “wittle sissy” she had. She wanted to hold her sister so badly, but because of how young she herself was she was only allowed to do so while sitting on the couch and with assistance. Although this disappointed her a little bit, she was fine so long as she got to feel like she was protecting her little sister.

The four children were basically siblings. And the parents relied heavily on each other to help raise them. When Felicia and Conol needed a break, you and your lovers would take Vi and Powder to have a game night. And when Vander, Silco, and you wanted a date night, Felicia and Conol would take Claggor and Mylo for a little adventure. It worked perfectly for both families.

You were happy, both of your families living and loving. Vander and Silco were great dads and you were a great parent. When one of you needed reassurance, the other two were there. You worked in tandem, and there wasn't a disagreement you couldn't get over.

But Piltover and the Undercity still had their faults. Things were getting worse and much more heated. You couldn't ignore the injustice of your homeland. And so you guys rallied. You told the kids to stay at home, and just the parents would be going out.

But things got heated. Screams echoed from both sides, orders were given, protests were relieved. It was a crazy mess of bodies and screams. One of the enforcers attempted to put their hands on you, of which Silco saw and he snapped.

The conflict escalated faster than you could think.

There were screams of horror and death roaring through the air. Crimson red blood coated every surface. Bombs boomed and threw dirt and metal. If it was crazy before, this was chaos incarnate. A bomb went off right by you, throwing you back a couple of feet. Your back slammed against a pile of scrap mettle, and you let out a hiss.

You lay there for only a minute before attempting to sit up, you do so with no small bit of struggle. You can feel the burn of your back in what is probably a giant gash, and feel another pain in your ankle. It was a struggle to get up, but you did. You had to.

All you could think about was finding your lovers and escaping to the children. You looked and looked through the rubble and chaos. Breath shaking as you found the dead and injured bodies of friends and acquaintances. But not your people. Then you saw familiar dark navy hair lying next to a familiar male body and let out a sob. Sinking to the ground you brought the body of Felicia into your arms. Sobbing as held her close, “No, no, no, no, no.”

“Felicia,’’ you mumbled under your breath, and stayed there for only a moment before your instincts as a parent took over. You needed to get to the kids. Now. So with a last, “I'm so sorry,” you ran off in the direction of your house. As fast as your legs could take you you ran. Past screaming enforcers, crying civilians, fire, and debris. You ran.

Soon you enclosed on The Last Drop, and let out a sigh of relief to find it still intact. You hurried inside and down the steps to where the kids should be staying. But it was empty. Neither the children nor your lovers anywhere in sight.

Panic filled every inch of your body and you felt as though you would be sick. But you wouldn't. You would power through for however long it took to get the children and your lovers back. So with a hollow chest you ran, once more, back into the chaos of the bridge. You screamed out the names, “CLAGGOR! POWDER! VI! MYLO! SILCO! VANDER!” screaming and repeating them over and over like an angry prayer to an absent god, till your voice went hoarse.

After what felt like an eternity you heard a response. “Moddy!” A familiar voice rings out, and you turn around as a sob of relief racks through you. You run up to your boys, Claggor and Mylo meeting you on a hug. “Oh, my boys. Your safe. Your safe right?” You pull away to inspect them for damages. Turning their bodies in a full circle and patting them down.

Once you're sure they are safe you put a hand on each cheek, reassuring yourself that they are safe. “Your okay.” You whisper to yourself one last time before you fix your face into an angry frown. “Why are you here? We told you kids to stay at the house. It is safe there, this is not the place for you to be.”

Claggor looks panicked further as Mylo speaks up. “We heard a loud boom followed by a lot of other noises, and we wanted to make sure you guys were alive.” You let out a frustrated sigh. More so at the situation rather than them. “Why would you take Powder? And where are the other two kids? Your dads?” you questioned, not quite having the heart to tell them about their aunt and uncle.

Both of your sons look worried at thr mention of Powder. “We didn't take her,” Claggor finally speaks up. “We left her at the Last Drop.”

You speak up, looking around the area as you do, “Well she wasn't there. Why would you think she would stay there all by herself? We were counting on you big kids to keep her, and yourselves, at home and safe.” The boys look properly panicked as they too begin to look around. “No use talking about it. Come on. We'll look for the others.”

The three of you stay close together as you search and search for the others. Under debris, around bombed shacks. Nothing. You try to steer them away from where you know the bodies of your friends lay, but eventually you know you have to at least check that area.

But you can't. You can't see them like that again. Can't stand to look at her joyful eyes looking so empty. How even in death, Conol and her were holding hands. And you sure as hell would never let your kids see that scene. “We should head back home.” You finally speak up, and you can tell that Mylo is about to argue. But surprisingly Claggor is the one to shut him down, “They're right. Maybe everyone else is waiting at the Last Drop for us.”

With hearts heavy with grief and worry you make your way back to your home. Passing by fellow citizens and peers you've known your whole life. Noticing a few are missing people who would normally be walking with them. Noticing the injured, the fallen. You see the sign of the Last Drop come into view, and sigh in relief as you see Vander, Vi, and Powder standing there mostly uninjured. The two groups run up to each other with fresh tears rolling down their faces, you have all seen better days. Mylo is the first to speak up,”Where is dad, Felicia, and Conel?”

Vander looks your group over, noticing your expression and he can tell you've already seen them. He takes the boys into his arm once more as he speaks, “They're gone.” You take the girls, your now parentless nieces that are so dear, into your own arms as Powder sobs violently and Vi silently cries into your shoulder. Vander's words are simple, but the world seems to fade as they register with the boys. And the six of stand like that, crying into one another for a few minutes before Vander brings you all inside.

You normally would force everyone to take a bath before heading to bed, especially with the shape you all are in, but after all this chaos none of you have the energy. You settle into your bed with Vander, both of you noting the missing space, the emptiness of the bed without Silco. Neither of you say anything. Just lay down and hold each other through tears. One by one throughout the night each of the kids seem to join you, tear stained cheeks and worried looks.