#Mel isn’t dead

[vincentsleftear]

hi just watched the Arcane season two trailer. When Ambessa says “your council is dead”…like that’s a joke right? She’s joking. Right?

[relicsongmel]

Wait. WAIT.

Dahlia’s alias being “Melissa Foster” also lowkey foreshadows that she’s a Fey because it gives her the SAME INITIALS MOST OF THE FEYS HAVE!!!! INCLUDING HER OWN MOM

IM GONNA EAT A CEILING FAN HOW DOES THIS GAME CONTINUE TO BLOW MY FUCKING MIND

[graythursday]

thinking about the pain of knowing there’s a place out there where things are different, but not having the power to make them that way in your own world. ultimately, these two have to live without the other. powder has her ekko but ekko lost his powder. she gets to live her life alongside him, but is burdened with the knowledge that there is another version of him out there alone, and this version herself destroyed. meanwhile ekko must live his life with everyone he cared about gone. all the people he grew up alongside have died or moved on; changed into people he no longer recognizes. he gave everything to save everyone, did what he could to reconcile with jinx, and managed to rekindle a spark in her, only to lose her again. and so he goes to the last place he got to be with her, in this other world, and tries to pretend that it’s the first time.

[jmeldog]

Ok no more glitter time to contemplate doing something drastic

(Joe watched Kira kill the dude. And aha. In the dragon’s eye was a drawing that Joe made. A drawing that suddenly disappeared that he hasn’t been able to find for a while. A drawing that was very important to him. Much to think about for Joe :)

[freshbakedbreadstick]

The Physicalities of Grief - Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Summary (SPOILERS): It's hard to grieve someone when their not really gone.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. HEAVY SPOILERS OF SEASON 2 ACT 1 OF ARCANE!! BE WARNED! Reader is described as having a vagina and uses she/her pronouns. Reader’s backstory is kept vague but is mentioned to be from Zaun (the Undercity), worked with Jayce and Viktor, and was childhood friends with Viktor. Mentions of masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, heavy grief, angst (not a breadstick fanfic if there isn’t angst), bad coping with grief and emotions, grief horniness LMAO, spoilers, brief fear that someone broke into your place, slightly improper use of his powers (not really use tho more like hinting at it), brief mention of vomiting but not in detail (!!), this is basically shameless PWLP (porn with little plot) that i'm using to cope ok? 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Unfortunately i am using Arcane Season 2 as a form of escapism bc i am not ok (context , i live in the US and i am a woman of color , , , , enough said ) anyways i am a Viktor stan and i love him SO SO SO much anyways AS PROMISE HERE IT IS ! LMAO i can't wait for act 2 to come out ! ! ! ! ENJOY ! (awhhh doesnt he look so normal in season 1 ?)

It feels like all you have ever known was this feeling.

This feeling of… swelling and crashing waves of anger and sadness. Of overwhelming crying screams, of bubbling tears that blind you, of aching emptiness that makes your joints feel sore and body retch after every meal.

Mel had to remind you that you were grieving, but you could see the way Jayce looked at her, shaking his head softly when she spoke. 

“He isn’t dead,” he would whisper once Mel would leave, but you could only weakly utter “Then why does it feel like he is?”

He never knew what to say to that, just stepping back, face falling. 

It was ridiculous at this point, the way he looked at you with… almost pity. You were sick of it. Everytime he came to you, updating you on the latest findings while you laid in bed, pathetically. Feeling like a waste as he went from spending hours in the lab, working beside his friend’s body encased in who knows what, to desperately fighting you to get you to eat something, anything.  

You felt like a burden, like a waste of a mind and body that was once so ambitious and passionate, moving around the lab to help with whatever you could get your hands on.

“I’m useless,” you would whisper to yourself in the cover of dark, chest empty and eyes red and dry. 

But his words… his words hurt the most. 

“Please eat something, anything!” He cried, trying to ever so gently pin your arms down as he lifted a small cup of soup to your face. 

“No Jayce, no! Stop it!” You cried, barely able to flail against him. 

“I need you to eat something, please! You can't keep going on like this!” His voice cracked. 

You pushed his hands away, successfully hitting the cup and making it clatter and crash to the floor. 

Both of you flinched, pausing mid movement to hear the sound of the porcelain shattering into millions of pieces. 

Stillness for a few seconds. Peace from him for a few seconds. 

Until his voice brought you back. 

“...Viktor would've wanted you to eat… to keep going…” 

It made your eyes burn, chest tightening, throat closing. It made your heart race, limbs suddenly energized for the first time in days, feeling ready to run marathons. 

Did Viktor feel this way the first time he touched the hexcore?

You shoved him away with surprising strength, making Jayce yell and fall to the ground, his arm moving up to shield himself. 

Leaping from bed, you yanked the sheets around yourself, heavy and dark fabric covering the weakness of your flesh from sight. 

“You have no idea what he would've wanted!” Your throat burned as you screamed, lips twisted into a sneer as you glared at him on the floor.

He couldn't even bear to look at you. Coward.

Paled hands moved to claw at your bedside table, yanking the drawers open. You yanked things out, throwing them to find it. Where is it?

Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?

Then you felt it. Soft beneath your fingertips, the embroidered ‘V' he asked you to add onto it scratching your skin ever so slightly. It made you pause, mind rushing and mouth rushing even faster.

“Better yet, you knew what he wanted and still went against him!” Your voice quivered as you yelled at Jayce.

Jayce gasped softly, head jerking back. 

“W-what friend you are,” You stuttered, tears rushing back into your eyes and making your voice sound watery. You felt stupid. 

Jayce’s breath hitched, his mouth opened to respond but you were too quick. You grasped the red fabric into your hands and rushed off, snatching your shoes on before you ran out the door with a choked sob, Jayce yelling out your name as you did so. 

Your body ached as you ran, running into corners and slamming into walls you didn’t sense as you rounded hallways. Your body feverish, only shivered when you stepped out into the chill of the quiet darkness of the supposed city of progress.

Your lungs ached as you ran, panting and gasping between cries. You ran and ran, stumbling and nearly collapsing as you made your descent.

Down, down, down… to the city you knew too well. 

Back home. 

You tucked the blanket closer as you rounded corners with ease, effortless as you hopped over piles of trash and twisted into darkened alleys, avoiding the sounds of twisted laughs and growls. 

You nearly ran into the door of your little old home, scratching at your neck to yank the necklace into the light of the partially broken street lamps. A trembling hand shoved the key into the lock, tugging yourself to press your cheek against the cold door with a hiss. 

It was hard to tell what you were doing in the darkness of the studio, staggering as you closed the door and moved around, getting bruises as you ran into old furniture and beat up tables. You cried out, howling in pain as you made your way toward your bed, hidden in the back of the room. 

One hand reached out, feeling the end of the furniture with heavy pants, eyes wide and barely able to make it out. But it was there, sturdy and reliable, the scent of comfort, of home, reaching your nose as you collapsed onto it, bursting out in wails.

The bed creaked as your body shook, the utter power of your lament echoing in the darkness of the room, red fabric clutched to your chest. 

You could smell him, smell the mixture of coffee, toast, and the unmistakable scent of the lab. 

You cried louder, rattling the windows with each sound as you held the fabric he used to tie his tie, nose buried into it. But it did nothing to muffle you, nothing to withhold the sounds of your cries. 

It felt like days passed before you passed out, falling unconscious without a second thought. 

But when you finally woke, it was dark again. 

Body aching, you sat up in with a heaved breath, wincing at the pain that echoed throughout your being. It was hardly bearable, making you sigh as you realized that you finally did it, you pushed yourself too much and rendered yourself alone, sleeping the day away.

You felt like a ghost skirting around your home, blanket clutched around your form and hand clutching the red fabric to your chest with paled knuckles. Feet made soft sounds as you stomped, using all your strength to collapse onto the sink, holding onto the ledge as you stretched, one hand opening the tap and lips greedily sucking in the water that came down.

You knew that you would probably regret this later, Zaun’s tap water was not meant to be drunk without extra precautions made to ensure it was clean. Afterall, this wasn’t Piltover, where you could drink fresh water from the tap without worry. 

You remembered the way your mother would have to boil it over the fire as a child, wincing as you drank the warm water after running circles around your childhood best friend, who would laugh and watch with a sad glint in his eyes as you did so. All you wanted was fresh, cold water after sweating, throat scratchy and knees scraped with a wonder only a child could possess. 

It made you want to cry again, as your familiar scratchy throat was soothed by the cool water, if only temporarily. 

Your hand barely had the strength to push the faucet shut, slipping onto your knees soon after. 

The fabric pressed against your nose, darkening under the tears that slipped and hit it on its way down your cheeks. Burnt toast… coffee… metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce, you. 

You crawled back into bed, grunting and groaning as your limbs screamed, desperate for you to stop and give up. ‘Forget it, you're alone now’ they said, desperate for a break. 

“Just… let me get to the bed… please,” you heard your gravely voice whisper out, begging yourself.

“...I’ll quit once I get to bed… please…”

‘Fine,’ you told yourself. 

Crumpled there on the sheets, you encased yourself with the blanket like a body laid to rest among the flowers, eyes closed and breathing getting slower. You could hear chatter from just beyond the walls, the sound of people chattering before rushing off, the occasional argument either followed by commotion or silence. It soothed you like a lullaby, as it soothed all children of the undercity. 

But as a fight breaks out nearby, harsh voices echoing the sounds of punches, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to think of something else. 

Like the day he convinced you to go with him to Piltover.

“Come with me,” he whispered, hand extended out to you, amber eyes glinting with hope for what this opportunity would bring.

“Oh Viktor,” you whispered aloud, voice breaking just like in the memory.

“Please,” he said, brows creasing. 

“But will I fit in? Will they accept me?” you murmured, holding your own hand, looking between his hand to his eyes.

“They accept me,” he breathed.

“That’s because you are a scientist.”

He scoffed, “Do not reduce yourself to utility, regardless of where you come from, you deserve to live amongst them.”

“But they will stare at me like… like I'm trash.”

“Nothing we aren’t used to already… besides… I need you there.”

Your breath hitched.

“You do?” you whispered to yourself, hand clutched to the fabric rising to press it against your nose again. 

Eyelids softened as you thought of the way he smiled, chuckling softly at your bewildered face, smooth voice like melody that made goosebumps spread across your skin as he said, “Of course I need you…”

You didn’t even realize your free hand had inched its way down your torso until your fingertips hit the waistband of your bottoms, making you freeze up, eyes snapping open to stare into the inky darkness.

You panted, chest rising and falling. 

“No…” you whispered, “N-no, no I… I can't.”

“Of course you can,” his voice echoed in your brain, smooth as a ray of sunlight, “Whatever it is you're worried about, I'll help you.”

Finally, your hand fell into his. He pulled you close, so close, that his eyes flickering onto yours felt like it had replaced the sun and the moon, “Come with me.”

Trembling, your hand pushed under the waistband and under your undergarments, fingers tracing over your mound before dipping down to the unabashed wetness of your core. 

You gasped, chest tightening. 

“No,” you whispered into the fabric. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Your fingers glided down, hips rising and legs spreading, skin so so hot under your touch. With a smooth swipe, the wetness gathered itself on your fingertip, moving to ever so gently press against your throbbing clit.

It made you whine, voice muffled by the fabric held tight against your hand. 

“No please…” you whispered once more, your resolve slipping as you thought of those amber eyes and how they glistened when he spoke about his work.

“C-can’t…” you just couldn’t bear it.

This was your childhood friend you were imagining, your friend who cared so deeply about you that he was willing to take you with him when he got a new opportunity in Piltover. Your friend who sacrificed his health for the sake of finding new tech to help people like you, who weren’t given a fair chance in the undercity. Your friend whose gaze would transfix on you as he explained what he was doing, voice tinged with an eagerness that made him whine when he thought your mind was straying from his words. 

“Darling, are you listening to me?” he would say as you played with some geared models he set out for you to see.

“Yes Viktor, I swear!” 

He would always chuckle and nod, either continuing to explain or instead staying silent, moving to stand behind you.

Your knees and mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Heavy pants filled the silence of the room. 

You could almost feel the way his hand would slide over yours as you played with the model, long nimble fingers gliding over your skin. 

You would gasp, hand stilling until he began to move it, guiding it with his own.“Here, let me show you… This is how you use it,” he would murmur, warm breath hitting your skin. It was so hard to suppress the shiver he gave you, no longer able to focus on the way he would turn the model the other way, guiding your fingers to press against a gear, turning it in a slow circle to get it working.

Your breathing hitched, hand moving in the way he showed you how. 

His hand would speed up, moving away to let you try it. The gears then began to move on their own, prompting you to move your own hand away, watching the model with an excited smile.

The swelling pleasure in your belly grew, making the smooth movements of your hand become erratic, unable to keep a steady pace. 

“V-Viktor,” you breathed, hips bucking into the air. 

You could imagine it, the way he spoke so smoothly to you, an air of calm to it as if he was speaking to a frightened animal, “Yes, my darling?”

“L-like this?” you croaked, fingers dipping to press against your sopping hole, feeling it drool onto your fingers. 

“Yes, exactly like that… you're doing so good…”

Your breaths grew more and more ragged, shivering as you chased your climax. It was so close, making your head fall back onto the sheets, fabric clutched to your nose, using it to run it up and down your body.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

“S-so… close…” you whispered. 

Then you heard it.

A whisper.

You stilled, eyes snapping open and wide in terror. 

You didn’t breathe, you didn’t move. 

‘Go to her’, it whispered once more, a feminine voice you couldn’t make out, too low for you to distinguish.

But you could hear staggered steps, moving. 

You knew you were hidden from view, allowing you an advantage, but this person was moving toward you, slowly but steadily.

You were frozen in place.

Did they come to rob you? Had you even locked your front door when you came in?

But you had no time to think, you were sitting here unarmed and vulnerable. 

Gathering yourself, you sat up in bed, careful to avoid making noise as you peaked above the furniture that hid you, seeing a cloaked figure moving in the dark. You saw nothing, just them staggering. They didn’t seem to be here to steal, brushing past your things without a second glance. 

You prayed to anyone who could hear you that it was just some weary soul needing to rest.

But right before you looked away, you saw it. 

You saw the glow.

A faint blue-purple glow of footsteps that led toward you. 

You swallowed, curling back and into yourself as your eyes trailed the faint humming glow of these footsteps, the way they led right to the foot of your bed. 

The cloaked and hooded figure approached, moving around what hid you to stand at the edge of your bed, looking right at you. 

Then you smelled it. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and… something… more.

Your breath hitched as a bony hand reached up and out, moving toward your face.

You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut as it moved. You didn't see the way it hesitated, pausing right before the warmth of your cheek.

“My darling…” They whispered, voice rumbling in a way that made your eyes snap open and body instantly and unconsciously sag, “Am i that scary?” 

You gasped, shaking as you made out the iridescent eyes that traced over your sunken cheeks and eyes with dark bags underneath. 

“Oh my darling…” he murmured, fingertips finally pressing against your cheeks. 

He was cold, but somehow warmth thrummed through him like… machinery. 

His thumb traced underneath your eye, gently, “Have you been suffering because… of me?” 

You said nothing, pinned to the spot underneath his gaze. 

You tried to say something, but nothing came out. Your mouth only opened and closed, silence emitting from it instead. 

His gaze swept over you, making a shiver go down your spine as you sat there. His gaze stilled, eyes widening ever so slightly as he followed your hands. He paused and, after a beat of silence, he spoke up.

“Here… let me show you.” 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something indescribable. 

The hand cupping your cheeks trailed down to your jaw, tilting it upward to look at him as he shifted to sit in front of you, the overwhelming scent of Him invading your senses.

His other hand moved, gently wrapping itself around your wrist, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath his own. He then slid in, over and down underneath the waistband of your clothes and to your soaked fingers.

You could only stare into the pools of opal that peered into your soul.

A gasp wormed its way out of your mouth as his fingers pressed against you, index tracing around your throbbing clit to your clenching hole. He moved in circles, teasing you by pressing his longest finger just against your entrance before pulling back, moving to press a tiny bit deeper with every movement.

You felt yourself instantly relax, unable to help yourself as the familiar face of Viktor stared at you, eyes softening as he saw the panic melt away. 

“V-Viktor i…” you breathed, “You… d-” 

“I'm supposed to be dead… I know…” he whispered. 

His finger pressed in, making you groan softly as it moved against your warm walls, carefully pressing to find that spongy bit inside of you. He was always so calculated, even now as his gaze focused on your face, tracking every miniscule movement like the way your pupils dilated when you saw him, the way your breathing picked up when his thumb brushed against your clit, and the way your lips parted when his fingers curled. 

“But I'm here now, my darling… you don't have to worry anymore… I just want you to come back with me.”

His voice made your eyes struggle to keep open, soft moans filling the once empty room. You were drunk off him, drunk off the way his fingers moved so deliciously deliberate, stimulating you in multiple ways and making you melt. 

“Viktor…?” you sighed, barely registering what he said. 

“Yes?” Viktor whispered, leaning to press his forehead against your own. 

It sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, tingling with a purple glow over your skin. 

“I…” gasping for air was all you could do, the overwhelming sensation flowing through your veins as his thumb pressed against your clit, fingers curling in and out of you. You were so close again.

“More?” He murmured, voice soft. 

Your eyes could barely hold his gaze, “N-need you…” 

“Like I always needed you?” 

You moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you shook, the pleasure reaching its peak. 

“Cum for me… come with me.” he murmured, lips brushing against your own. 

He swallowed your moans as you cried out his name, body shaking. His hand on your jaw held you in place, continuing to move his fingers in you and on your clit, your hand wrapped around his wrist as he did so, the other still clutched onto his red tie. 

Pure, white, hot, pleasure stole your vision and voice, making you see visions of a future where you and your people would never have to suffer anymore, not with someone like Viktor to lead them. 

As you came down, body heaving and shaking, he carefully moved his hand off your core before wrapping your weak body with his lapis blue cloak, pressing you against him. Your head lolled, slotting against his neck, smelling the scent of burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something… something otherworldly. 

“Come with me.” He whispered, “I need you.”

“I will.” You whispered, this time not hesitating. 

[idolomantises]

Thoughts on Arcane season 2

I didn’t like this season

It’s not bad, but I found it incredibly rushed, cramped and deeply unsatisfying

While season 1 had several protagonists it was also pretty obvious that Vi and Jinx were the emotional core of the entire show so why on earth was their dynamic barely explored here

Vi went from being my favorite character to a character I found deeply frustrating and annoying. What the hell is her personality of getting her sister back and fucking the hot lesbian. She has no consistency whatsoever and it’s something I don’t think the show realizes how batshit the constant flip flopping in. What do you mean you sister tells you she’s going to kill herself and then you start fucking your messy situationship

I don’t really care for Jayvik but I found Jayce’s confession very sweet.

Mel my beautiful queen they’re gonna call you a Mary Sue

What the fuck was with all that Witch shit and Ambessa’s death was incredibly unsatisfying

Victor fans who kept begging the team to not make him a hot buff robot so he can still be a skinny twink pisses me off so bad because now we have an inferior twink robot design. I know fans probably didn’t influence this but I also need to complain about their lack of taste like what do you mean you didn’t want to see a hot buff robot man.

Ekko feels like an incredibly unimportant character and I’m pretty sure fans only like him because of what he can do for Jinx. A part of me wished he actually did hold a grudge just to see how fans reacted.

Season 1 was all about setting up emotional complexities and how nobody was truly evil and the show made it seem like there was no way for anyone to fully recovery from this but everyone is holding hands and singing kumbaya’s so alright nevermind then

This show was honestly a little too in love with Jinx. I did not enjoy her writing in acts 1 and 2.

The jokes were really bad this season

The songs oh my god the SONGS. I didn’t mind them in season 1 but in season 2 it started to remind me of love is blind and anyone who has watched that show would know what a massive insult that is.

Caitvi lesbian sex scene and I couldn’t even enjoy it because the writing was pissing me off

Caitlyn should’ve continued her little fascist arc.

Mel’s arc this season felt like weird fanfiction.

A bunch of random side characters die off unceremoniously after the show gave them so much unnecessary screen time

I hated Isha sorry. I’ve never seen a character more clearly made to die.

Jinx death means nothing to me because I know she isn’t dead so why even do all that lol

I will never call this show sexist but it has done a massive disservice to its female characters.

[1920sladydectective]

Christmas Tree Smut - NSFW

I wrote this because my wife bought me all of the Rocklove jewellery Ambessa and Mel collection as a surprise for finishing my uni assignments and then we put up the Christmas tree. So thank her. :D

Not proof read, some pet names and choking but it’s a short drabble so not much.

Ambessa was tall. You were fully aware of this, it had its multitude of uses and attractions. This, though, you had yet to see this year.

There she stood, bundled in furs with a stern eye, surveying the tree.

“I think it’s fine,” You muttered to her left, tipsy smirk on your face.

“Since when has fine been acceptable, Dear? Do you love it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say love,”

“Then it is wrong,” She marched off down the sea of green, analysing as though picking new recruits.

You had been looking for two hours, and she had bought you five glasses of spiked mulled wine. Still she would not pick one. You just wanted to decorate a tree, have too much stollen and then kiss underneath the mistletoe. Instead, she was striking the fear of God into the farm attendant as she looked for her “Perfect” Tree.

From the uncharacteristically loud yell of joy, you hoped she’d found it. You were determined to love it even if it was half dead, just so you could leave. It was, in all fairness to Ambessa, astounding. Ten foot tall, plush and full, it loomed just as she’d wished.

“Will it fit?”

She looked at you like you were an idiot. Of course. Her castle ceilings were insanely high, that’s why you’d come to this farm in the first place.

The farmhand chopped it down, with constant commentary and criticism from Ambessa until you whacked her with your handbag and growled. Poor boy must have been a teenager, and Ambessa was calling him a spineless fool.

Then, in a flash, the magic happened. She picked it up, as though it wasn’t over three feet taller than her, and began to wander off to the soldiers waiting to transport it. You tensed, blindly handing the boy far too much money for the tree as you trailed behind her glamorous, toned form.

Her eyes sparkled as she placed it down, a wry grin on her face, “Something intriguing darling?”

“Don’t tease,” You sighed, gazing happily at her.

The journey back was simple, your wine addled mind floaty and dozing against her shoulder until she kissed you tenderly to wake you.

Once the great, hulking thing was situated, Ambessa began putting the lights on. You were not allowed on the wooden ladder, as if a glass bauble prone to dropping. That was fine with you, you’d just stare at her arse the whole time.

Finally, blissfully, you could decorate the fucking thing. Boxes and boxes of glass ornaments from your marriage and travels were brought into the room by attendants, a large wooden table used to spread them out as you contemplated how you wished to decorate this year.

Humming carols to yourself, you danced around Ambessa placing baubles and standing back to survey. She was only to place them where you said further up, your tone demanding and clear. It made her smirk, your perfectionism. Each year she grew to love it more.

Swiftly, she hugged you from behind and began to nibble your neck as you placed a pair of robins on a lower branch.

“Y-“ A huff, “You’re distracting me,”

“You’re distracting me, Little one,” She purred, nuzzling against your nape, “So commanding, so artistic, how am I supposed to resist such seduction?”

You melted slightly against her, taking in the warm glow of the lights as you tilted your head, offering more of your neck.

Ambessa left large, sharp marks all down your throat and collarbone, relishing in branding you as she wrapped her arm around you and began to tease your nipple.

Your knees buckled, ripping an amused moan from your lips, “You do this every year, you never let me finish the fucking thing,”

She pinches your nipple through your dress, hard enough it hurts, “But I let you finish don’t I? And isn’t that so kind of me? Aren’t you so thankful?”

“Yes,” You slur slightly, going limp in her hold as she tugs whimpers and sighs from you. This was how she liked it, the tree would be half done and she would fuck your under it’s great branches and then allow you to finish it naked with your legs trembling.

This year it seemed she had grown especially impatient, and started the process only a third of the way through. You were powerless to resist though, namely because you didn’t want to.

She lay you on the floor, fluffy blankets and pillows preemptively placed, as her wicked tongue trailed down your body, hands preoccupied with abusing your tits until your eyes rolled. Once she finally touched your molten core, you were already in the blind throes of pleasure, her name echoing for all to hear. She allowed you your wantonness in these moments, body shaking as your orgasm ripped through you.

The sparkling of the tree made your vision blur, pleasure merging with whimsy as you smiled dumbly up through the branches.

“Pretty girl,” Ambessa groaned against you, “Perfect slut,”

She stripped herself of all clothes, spreading your legs wider as she positioned herself between them, brushing her cunt against yours. Rutting against you, she wiped your mind of anything other than your clits rubbing against each other, tongue hanging out as you spluttered and leaked.

Panting, her eyes hazy, she squeezed your neck lightly as you came, squirting all over yourself at the overstimulation. Her orgasm was loud and shameless, wrecking you on her search for pleasure as she lent down and bit your nipple between her teeth.

“I love Christmas,” You giggled nonsensically, smiling at the mistletoe bauble directly above your head.

“As do I, my darling,” She huffed, curling you both into a blanket as you basked in each other.

[lethalchiralium]

Waiting Room | Happiness Series

a/n: yes, i’m posting twice in the same month! crazy lol (always thanking my lovely @as-is-above-so-below for editing)

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, medical stuff, injuries, simon spiraling

The ICU is bare at this time of night. There are no alarms for nurses to attend to, and the lights are dimmed. The doors shut, and meal trays were taken away hours ago. Triangle lights above the doors are filled in with red or green lights. The only sound in the corridor is of boots thumping against the floor.

Calloused hands gripped the nurse’s counter. Your name prattled quickly off his tongue with a question of where you were. A room named off, and he was already out of sight, running and escaping the nurse calling him to come back. When he reached your room, his hand didn’t tremble as it did the whole way to the hospital. He calmly and slowly pushed the door open.

All he saw was no bed, and John Price sitting on the couch below the window, hunched over and murmuring into the phone against his ear. He looked up and ended the call, standing quickly to walk towards him.

“Simon-”

“Where is she?”

“Still in surgery.”

“What the fuck happened?”

Price stiffened slightly, and the air between them suddenly stifled. Simon’s dry eyes stared him down, and Price could feel his failure crushing him. He promised to keep them safe and sound, yet here they were, barely thirty minutes into emergency surgery before your husband arrived.

“According to Laswell, she made them take Winnie to the park–her and Roach. She was home with Mel and König when they were ambushed.hey shot him, and took the girls.” He looked down at his phone, then pulled up the pictures of the damage to his front entrance–showing them to Simon. “…Your father took them to a cabin in the Lakes District witht he intention of selling her and Melody to traffickers, in a bid to exploit you for money.”

His heart began to race, hard, like a hammer against museum glass. Shattering it into his ribcage, the thumps of his lungs against his liver and spine like an out-of-control wave.

“She escaped with Melody, and uh… well.” Price swiped, and Simon was met with a caved-in face. But, he picked out the silvery scars on his father’s forehead from when he beat him himself, many years ago. “She beat the shit out of him.”

“Is he dead?”

“He is.”

Pride would be the word he was looking for, if not for how intense the injuries were to his father’s face. Your hands must be mush. “Good.”

“She was found in a valley. She tucked Melody in a dense fir tree; she has some scrapes and bruises, and was freezing to the touch, but we found her. She was calling for your wife.” Price slid the phone into his pocket, settling back on his heels. “Only reason we found them was because she was crying. She’s upstairs in the NICU; Laswell and Roach are there with Winnie, whenever you’re ready to see them.”

“Okay.”

Yet, he made no hurry to move from his spot, hovering in the center of the near-empty ICU room, the space left for your bed, the machines that would be attached to you, and the fear that would radiate off of you and permeate the silence like no other sound. Could he leave this spot to check on his children? Could he escape the betrayal he indirectly caused when he failed to protect you? Would he be able to pretend that he isn’t full of rage for his superiors, barring him from keeping his promise? But, should he be able to stay upset with Price, his closest friend, in finding and saving his wife and child?

Could, would, should. All words with no meaning without action.

Simon’s eyes met John’s, and a brief silence fell upon them.

“Go see the girls, Simon.”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation, “I can’t.”

John didn’t even breathe before speaking again, “Then stay. I will go sit with them.” He quickly ushered Simon into the chair he had occupied only moments before. Simon practically collapsed into it. His head in his hands, heart torn into shreds of silken fabric, drowning in a sea of despair. The thin plastic chair would do nothing to soothe his aching bones, his body a fresh arrival from London to base an hour ago. Never did he imagine he would have to rush home, in the midst of a panic attack over losing you the way he lost Grace, losing another unborn baby, and his infant. He didn’t dare pretend like he could hold this weight, the fear, the panic, the imagination of the sound of your screams.

There, in the white chair after thirty-six hours of being awake, he watched John leave him alone. And there, leaned over his knees, he let out whimpers that sounded much like the ones that escaped him as a child.

He didn’t wake again until he heard a collection of clicking. His arms tightened across his chest as he heard footsteps fade away. He rolled his head up before opening his eyes - all he saw was the hospital bed, and your figure covered by thick blankets, nodes pressed onto your forehead like thorns on a rose, a breathing tube taped to your chapped lips, and a level of calm on your face that he’d seen only a few times. The sound of the chair screeching across the floor, closer to the bed, closer to the iodine smell that permeated the room from you. His hand slipped under the warming blankets, lifting it to seek out your arm, gazing at the wrapping on your hand before he settled his own on the undamaged skin of your forearm. Covering you again, he silently thanked the nurse for keeping the bed rail tucked away. He leaned forward and settled his head against his arm - listening to the soft wheeze of the breathing machine.

His mind was void of words, but his tongue spoke from the root of his pain, just a gentle, “I failed you.”

In the dim light from above the bed, Simon’s thumb traced warm circles on your lukewarm skin, and he closed his eyes. He couldn’t remember before he left for the hospital, couldn’t remember the mission, only…emptiness. An overwhelming urge to vomit ichor into his lap as he sped through red lights. A softened part inside his stone-cold heart rotted, black like tar, gooey and burning every inch of his injured rib cage.

His lungs filling with warm breaths, fighting to ignore the iodine stench only found him asleep again, body hunched over as if to find some solace in protecting you now - when the void of his betrayal burned harsher than the dance of bourbon on his tongue.

Simon doesn’t greet your brother, and doesn’t dare move his temple from the blanket tucked beside his head, eyes glued to the TV in the dusty corner of the room. Below it hung a whiteboard detailing your name, age, gender, and nurses. Following that was a rotation with the times they would be by for checks, medication, replacing the cold blankets with warm ones, and moving you so bed sores don’t grow on your already fragile skin. The BBC show wasn’t anything interesting, not his favorite but something to do that wasn’t throwing up what little breakfast he had into the trash can.

He’d been visiting Mellie the morning before, brought in by Price after she was discharged. Her one-day hospital stay was officially over, and he had finally seen her - but guilt nestled in his esophagus as he pressed his nose into her scalp, her little body curled as far as it could into his chest. He would have been a better father to tend to her first, but the thought of losing you was more apocalyptic than he ever imagined. He couldn’t leave this room, could barely piss in the bathroom without the door open to keep an eye on you, and barely spoke to anyone who came in; whether it be a nurse or the task force, they were all given silence in exchange for their pleas for him to go home, take a shower, get a fresh set of clothes.

“You smell like shit, dude.”

Jake, your older brother, moved a chair beside Simon on his right, his hand gently patting your ankle as he sat. Your husband may have snapped at him if he wasn't absent from his mind. Simon was nestled in a deep corner of his consciousness, only pretending to be human for his friends and children as he rotted beside you.

He didn’t answer his brother-in-law, eyes flickering from character to character on the screen, as if that was a good-enough distraction from his painful thoughts.

“That Soap guy said you haven’t showered in four days. You smell like it, go take a shower.”

Simon huffed out a humorless chuckle. “Not leavin’ her.”

Jake paused for a moment, pensive for just a millisecond. “The bathroom is right there. Yes, she’s protected at all times with you here, but she’s safe when I’m here too. So go. I’m sure she wouldn’t want to smell your ass when she wakes up.”

“Fuck off, Jake.”

“You have to at least wipe down if I’m going to sit next to you. You reek.”

“Then don’t.”

“Not a chance, bud.”

A gentle but firm hand settled on Simon’s shoulder, and he barely reacted, only a rumble of disapproval from his throat. He wanted to wretch his shoulder backwards, get Jake’s hand off, scream at him, ask him what makes him think he’s right. Ask what made him think he truly knew the answer to Simon’s mistake, miscalculation, the broken promise that lay like glass at his feet. What makes him think that Simon could accept his help at all?

He would’ve fought his brother-in-law off if there was any point, but he had been sitting at your bedside for two days straight and you hadn’t woken up yet - even when they shined lights in your pupils, checked your wounded hand, adjusted nodes on your forehead, checked the back of your head. So Simon found himself standing, Jake’s hands ushering him to the bathroom, but he slammed his hand against the door when Jake tried to close it.

“Leave it open. Wanna see her.”

Jake didn’t make a sound, just gave an understanding nod. “Try to use the curtain. I’d like to avoid seeing your dick, and I’m sure the nurses would appreciate it.”

Simon doesn’t even remember keeping the curtain open, getting under the hot spray, and just… standing there. The water hit the crown of his head, spilling down and over his face, his chest, his stomach - his body ached from the lowest muscles in his calves to the tenderness nestled in the nape of his neck, yet he could feel nothing in between. No tremor of his lungs, no twitch in his bad knee, no rumble of his heartbeat. Even as the scalding water cascaded over his lips, eyes, and cheeks, he felt nothing. No prick in his eye to cry, as if he had already cried everything out and had nothing left to give.

There was nothing in this hospital room shower, just a shell of a man who wanted nothing more than to switch places with you.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Mess with her hair.”

The wrapping around your head was changed this morning, leaving more of your hair visible, and Jake was combing it with the shitty brush he bought down at the gift shop. “She always had a thing for her hair to be untangled. It bothered her a lot as a kid.” He set the brush down by your side, his fingers quickly remembering the braiding motion as he continued to speak softly, “Learned how to braid on her dolls so I could braid her hair for her. She didn’t like Mom or Dad doing it, only me.”

Simon rested his head on his arm again, watching the morning news. “Looks like shit.”

“I’m out of practice. Like you could do any better.”

“I have two daughters. I can do better.”

Jake could only half chuckle, almost lifeless. For a few moments, the only sounds were the breathing machine, the rustle of your hair, and footsteps approaching the door. Simon raised his head, watching over you like a hawk as the door creaked open; his hackles relaxed instantly as Winnie bounded in, followed by Price, who held Mellie. Simon was quick to sit back, allow his child to climb into his lap, and bury her face in his neck - he cradled Winnie close, kissing her hair and reclining back.

Her hair was in a messy ponytail, curls unruly and Simon felt acidic bile creep up his throat when she started crying.

She couldn’t say a word; neither could he, when he truly needed to. He needed to comfort his daughters, tell them that everything would be okay, that the doctors are taking care of Mama. He should be taking accountability with his children for failing to uphold his promises, yet, he kept his lips pressed to his eldest’s hair. His hand rubbed light circles on her shoulder blade, his eyes flickering to his brother-in-law and then his brother-in-arms. His infant was curled identically into Price’s chest, her little fists grabbing at the worn Metallica shirt, curls finger-brushed, onesie covered by a thick coat. Simon’s eyes fell back to you, the braid settled against your shoulder as Jake moved to the side, gently rubbing your bicep for a moment.

“You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to take care of her hair,” Jake mumbled. Simon didn’t miss the tears that rimmed the man’s eyes.

Simon didn’t make a sound, listening to his daughter’s sniffling as Price spoke, “She’s been taking care of everyone but herself, and we will keep taking care of her.”

Winnie whimpered; Simon kissed her hair again, keeping her close for as long as she’d let him.

12:39 am. Simon could barely make the time out from across the room. The heel of his hand rubbed into his eye, and he flipped up his phone, squinting to see the date. Four days. Four days since you were rushed here, four days since he hasn’t left you alone. A sigh settled deep in his bones as he let his phone fall, his tingling hand gently rubbing your forearm before he leaned up, wiping his face. He flicked the crust from his eye away, turning to look at you before laying his head down again.

His eyes fluttered closed, his stomach churning just a little before he settled again. His chest weighed like a bell, his heart laying limp in the comfort of his cushioning lungs, his mind wandering, pondering whether he would ever see your eyes again-

He sat up instantly; your eyes were staring at him, wide, almost painful. The look made his stomach roar, his hackles raised, eyebrow furrowed, eyes full of tears and concern.

“Sweetheart, it’s me, it’s okay-”

An alarm blared from your heart monitor, and the call button you rapidly pressed with your less injured hand. Simon’s heart clenched as your tears mirrored his, and the sound of you choking on the breathing tube made his stomach acid toss like salad dressing. He stood, and you flinched; he knew what was happening. He scrambled away, found the switch for the blinding overhead light, and flipped it before he moved to you again. The flood of tears in his eyes made it hard to see you recognize him, but you did. You reached for him as the door burst open - making you jerk again, a whine-like cry escaping your throat.

You thought he was Lloyd.

Simon couldn’t blame you. He spent years breaking mirrors because he looked like his father, his abuser.

He stumbled back, his wrist to his nose as nurses flooded your bedside, his eyes never leaving you. The nurse closest to him helped remove the breathing tube while the other injected something into your IV, and the last furiously typed on the computer. Simon could only keep himself a few steps away, listening to the sound of your whimpers and watching your weak attempts to move away from the help. His nails met his teeth, the quick already bloodied as he had chewed them down two nights ago. The emptiness in his chest had surged as if it was a flood, knocking his respiratory system around like a ping-pong ball against his ribcage. He couldn’t breathe, his heart felt as if it was beating so fast that it would catch fire, the tears leaking into his mouth were like acid.

Of course, you would think he’s Lloyd, the man humorlessly chuckling in his clouded head. Simon looked so much like him that they could be considered brothers, not father and son.

A deep part of him knew this would happen. The one thing Simon fought the hardest to protect was an easy domino to fall, the most direct way to get Simon’s attention, hit him where it could and would hurt the most. He’s kneeling and bleeding, his heart pouring blood as he has to watch his wife cry out when a nurse even grazes her skin.

Simon would be lying if he said he could handle this.

He doesn’t get frustrated with you when you turn your face a little to the left when he brings the spoon to your lips. He put it back into the ceramic bowl as he softly sighed to himself. You’ve barely eaten all morning since they took out the breathing tube, visiting hours are almost starting and Jake would be here, asking a million questions that Simon would need to answer. If the best you could do was five half spoonfuls of broth, it would have to do. He pushed the rolling table away, moving the blankets farther up on your abdomen and tucking it close to your body. Your gaze felt like knives on him, he was barely strong enough to look at your face when the profound sense of guilt only seemed to take his words. He refused to be upset with you when your hand touched his, even though he felt like he needed to rip his skin off.

Your thumb brushed over his bruised knuckles as he kept his hand settled on your hip, staring at the minute gesture that meant so much before, but now… felt bitter. Simon would have thrown up again, recognizing the way your comfort now felt painful.

“You gotta eat more later.” He mumbled, hunched over your bed, wanting to rip his hand from yours but also needing it to stay there. “You need to sleep too, you have to be tired- Ow!”

He looked up at your face, ignoring the dark bruise on your throat, to see just a little smirk. You had pinched his hand, and he furrowed his brows, confused.

“Was that funny?”

A tiny movement like a nod, and he huffed out a flat laugh. His free hand raised a little, in your vision, before slowly moving to settle on your face. He hovered his thumb along the bruise on your cheekbone, his fingers cradled your jaw like porcelain. Your head only moved into him, eyes never moving from him. He wasn’t sure you’d ever be able to look at him like Simon again, after your reaction a couple hours ago. He wouldn’t blame you at all if you couldn’t. He wouldn’t blame you if you left him after this, take the girls and move far, far away from him and everything that came with him - enemies, lies, pain. He wasn’t even sure how safe you were now and that killed him, destroyed his sense of safety and replaced it with so much fear.

“Mel…ody.”

Simon snapped back into reality where your eyes were narrowed slightly staring at him, and he instantly answered. “She’s safe. Just some bruising, she’s home with Jake and Price and Soap.”

Relief washed over your face, your head settled back on the pillow as your gaze finally moved to the ceiling. It’s at times like this where he wished he struggled to know what you’re feeling, what you’re thinking. But, he could read you like an open book.

“You did good,” He spoke, your name escaping like the prayer he needed days ago, “Our baby is safe. Mellie’s okay.”

You pinched him again before you looked back at him, and he let his thumb lightly graze your bruise, you didn’t even flinch.

“New one’s okay too.”

A whine escaped your throat, tears instantly falling from your face as relief washed over it. He patted your hip.

“You did good, Mama. Did really fuckin’ good.”

[elpeadro]

If the writers wanted CaitVi to be their canon OTP so damn bad, they had two ways of going about it:

THE GOOD ENDING:

Caitlyn doesn’t turn to fascism in her grief and rage. Ambessa still takes advantage of the council bombing to goad Piltover’s elite toward supporting martial law, likely installing Salo as her puppet as she originally planned to, but Caitlyn is one of the few who protest and refuse to be swept up in the authoritarian fervor Ambessa stokes. Because:

1) there’s no way she wouldn’t notice how fishy the attack on the memorial was. This is the same person who pieced together the conspiracy surrounding Silco and his criminal empire without ever stepping foot in Zaun. She’s a great detective who has been shown to see through the surface level cover-up. Not to mention the list of potential suspects with both motive and means is very small. Add on Mel’s insight, who she would interact with as one of the other Piltover characters who resists Ambessa’s scheming, and they would definitely pin Ambessa as their prime suspect. The problem is that they have no proof. All of the attackers are dead. Ambessa covered her tracks well, a nod to Noxian subterfuge in the wider lore. 

And most of all, and most horrifyingly, Piltover doesn’t care. They’re angry. They’re outraged. Their bigotry is being preyed on by Ambessa, but they hardly need a push to go from the indifferent oppression of Zaun to active, overwhelming oppression. They already saw Zaunites as a monolith: criminals, street scum, dirty people who need to stay out of Piltover’s golden streets.

That Jinx is the lone guilty party is irrelevant. Her attack threatens their status quo. It has disrupted the utopia of Piltover living in its ivory towers without a care in the world, and they will bring back that false sense of security by crushing any possibility of Zaun fighting back ever again.

and 2) even with the grief of losing her mother fresh on her mind, this is still Caitlyn Kirammen we’re talking about. The woman who gives up her rifle - not just a prized possession, but her means of self-defense and safety when she’s deep in the worst parts of Zaun - without a second thought to save Vi’s life. The woman who hugs Huck, a homeless drug addict with a cancerous-like growth on half his forehead, of her own volition.

Because she cares.

As we are reminded time and time again in season 1, while Caitlyn is an incredibly naive, privileged, idealistic woman with an exceptional ability to put her foot in her mouth and say the most tone deaf things, she has a good heart, and more importantly, is willing to learn. It isn’t easy at the start, but when confronted with the irrefutable proof of how awful Piltover’s treatment of Zaun is, she listens. She feels sympathy for Zaunites, even if they are drug addicts (Huck), convicts (Vi), or gang leaders (Ekko).

That same Caitlyn, the one we see a small glimpse of in episode 1 when she protests that innocents will be caught in the crossfire, would not stand for Piltover’s martial law and mass imprisonment of Zaunites. She would try to fight it alongside Mel, using her position and influence in the enforcers as Mel uses hers as a politician.

(While she still develops an obsession over Jinx and getting justice for her mother’s death, she doesn’t see collective punishment and chemical weapons as acceptable costs of achieving said justice.)

And if the writing stayed true to the themes of class conflict in season 1, then she would quickly be forced to confront the horrible realization that there is no fixing this. The faults are systematic, not individualistic.

It doesn’t matter if it’s Marcus or Salo or Ambessa or whoever. The enforcers and Piltover will always be corrupt institutions stepping on the necks of Zaun. Piltover’s society is rotten from the inside out. And if she isn’t going to stand by and let it happen (because she refuses to compromise her morals and enforce martial law, because she cares - not just about Vi, but about Ekko and the Firelights, Huck, all the innocent people who will be swept up in Piltover’s thirst for blood), then the only way forward is to fight against Piltover.

So she becomes a class traitor. She fights alongside Vi and Ekko in repelling enforcers and Noxian soldiers from Zaun, protects the innocent. 

Her relationship with Vi develops healthily compared to the canon season 2 - or as best it can in the midst of fighting a war and given their personal issues (Caitlyn’s grief and rage; Vi's self-loathing and guilt) - and they are good for each other.

It becomes a loving, supportive relationship and a wonderful piece of queer representation.

It would be beautiful. Not just the love and trust they have in each other, but that such love can flourish even in dark times. That people are capable of being defined not by their class and the systems they are born into, but by their actions and morals.

(Would such writing be too radical for the higher-ups at Netflix, Riot, and Fortiche (i.e. writing a class traitor and class war)? Most likely, but that discussion is for another time.)

Part 2: The Bad, Tragic Ending

Part 3: The Disjumbled, Tonal Mess of an Ending We Got

[dumpster-fire-sapphic-failgirl]

“Vi didn’t get a win in all of Season 2. She lost every fight!”

Vi isn’t made to win fights. Vi blocks with her face. She wins because she takes the hit so other people don’t have to and she gets up again and again and again

Vi saved Cait at the memorial. No, she didn’t land the showy blow with Jayce’s hammer, but Cait would still be dead if she wasn’t there, bare knuckle boxing a shimmer goon

Vi technically beat Jinx in their showdown. But Vi *won* by protecting her sister and the undercity kid

She came out on top in most of the montage brawls. But it wasn’t a win, bc it wasn’t *for* anything. And it didn’t hurt enough until she started blocking with her face again

She was winning the slap fight with Jinx until she sucker punched a child for biting her so that was really a draw at best

She won the fight with War/Vander. She saved Isha’s life with that punch. She went ten rounds with a genetically modified nigh immortal killing machine. She stopped in an act of faith for Jinx. And got her sister and father back. That’s a win.

Vi lost when she tried to bare knuckle box against spears. Pro tip: The greatest boxer in the world will lose against a company of spear fighters. If you’ve just got your hands, you will not win against spears. Accept the L. Survival becomes the W. Bonus, she did protect Jinx from the blast.

And then everyone lost in the final battle. Vi held her own in the first half by surviving. Her and piano man were the only ones not dead by the time the Undercity Armada and Magic Mel showed up. And then everyone lost to the perfection bots except Ekko. and Ekko did arguably cheat a little.

Anyway, had enough of the libel about my angry oil slick and her over designed bitch mittens. Vi won. So many times. When she saved someone she cared about. When she got back up after getting knocked down. Shielding the people she loved.

[capymosey]

on meljayvik & that bomb tinkering scene

i made a lil comment on this but i wanted to expand on it here since there’s no hard character limit

so, yeah, there’s a lot of what i would consider bs discourse on mel ignoring viktor etc and jayce and manipulation etc whatever blahblahblah i hate that shite because it really isn’t satisfying since it feels like people making claims on very little objective data

mel knows jayce couldnt take the bomb apart and she brings up this hot topic when viktor is in the middle of doing delicate, dangerous work. sure, he stops during it but she isn’t worried at all. she trusts him, jayce trusts him - they know he’s competent and brilliant and works well under pressure (“the resonance will stabilize it. trust me.”) so they are all ok to have this difficult convo during a very dangerous task

i did see some people stating viktor was also considering letting jayce and him die, whick is uhhhh something all right. viktor isn’t a fighter. he’s a scientist. he’s gentle, kind, quirky, but also a risk-taker. he isn’t someone who would hurt others, though. so as fun as that train of thought could be, i don’t buy it since it isn’t in line with who viktor is. i cant believe the same people who advocate for “there is always a choice”!viktor, and other such things about his character would even consider this line of thinking but whatever. it’s fandom 🤷‍♂️

i do think there is some great misunderstanding to characters because of ships and limited screen time to anyone who isn’t violet or jinx but i see the trio as a group who understand each other and work well together. yes, mel didnt realize how close jayce and viktor were before viktor got hospitalized, but she knows his mind and contributions. mel isnt an idiot. she knows shite. she researches and strategizes and she also knows viktor and jayce. just look back at any convo you might have with friends or family in groups of more than 2 people and this is like one glimpse into how the trio might talk to each other at any given time over any topic. not everyone always agrees with each other and sometimes you can tell when you can influence, for example, your dad over your mom regarding getting a pony. viktor’s name isnt on hextech public records so mel knows viktor has given up having a majority say on it (maybe because viktor is all about being behind the scenes, esp as his health continues to spiral, and jayce could also be at fault for not treating viktor like the partner he claims viktor is). sure, there’s some societal issues going on, too, but at this point - whether mel is still influenced by this piltover attitude or not - she cares about jayce enough at this point to value what he values, and one of those big things is viktor (which she undoubtedly knows coz he keeps going to her about him 😅). and when viktor strongly objects she looks at him like someone who wishes she didn’t have to suggest what she’s suggesting since her feelings about her mom/upbringing could be a factor she’s considering.

another big holy shit moment in this scene is mel bringing up heimer and showing he doesn’t always have the sway with jayce that she now does. heimer may have been neglectful of zaun, but now mel seems against zaun, too, and jayce is appearing to be agree with it (and he does, until the prep for the finale battle in s2)

like this scene is also more of a tie with the a bridge scene in showing jayce and viktor not sticking together. viktor is seeing jayce consider him less and less and seeing people from zaun as subhuman. jayce “understanding” grows less and less in his mind and viktor becomes more isolated. how can he trust jayce when jayce may not trust him (“they’re dangerous!” and “i need to think [about this on my own, without further convo with you, viktor, who i claim is my partner]” “defend your people”) and who can he depend on to help zaun if he’s dead and jayce is using hextech to take lives? he’s gotta take the risks. but sky’s death and the hexcore sentiently taking away the use of his leg show him the error of the path he starts and he just accepts death (not that he wants to die) as something that will happen irregardless of what happens after he’s gone. (too bad he just dies and we never see viktor in s2 until his theme comes up at the end when jayce gives him the cosmic hug)

also mel gives viktor another look before telling jayce the choice is his. i think she wishes he was on board coz then they might have come up with another solution but the show is written in a way where hextech is always the answer (i.e., weapons, etc) and not like…personal and political manouvering 😅

plus the trio smile at each other when an alternate option is approved by the council before jinx blows it all up. there’s some kind of dynamic going on here

anyway

my brain doesnt work this hard this long

i think fortiche should unleash their meljayvik vault of fics and help fandom out since they often partake and enjoy fanworks to help meljayvik out 🤣

p.s. can we instead focus on how hardcore viktor is in the end? not even a sigh of relief or anything showing stress. man is a well-oiled machine when it comes to how confident he in his choices. he already figured out the bomb and made a choice after getting distracted/frustrated with jayce

[sticcmann]

Jinx and Orianna designs for a Sinco au where everything basically plays out the same except silco and singed have been together for 13 years as of season 1 act 3

Jinx is raised by both of them. She assisted Singed until she was 16 when she got her own lab and started working mainly for Silco. Singed is a man of medicine, so he actually gave Jinx antipsychotics regularly, and she recovered and stopped taking them 3 (more research pending?) years before act 2

The events of the show are mostly the same — Jinx has a psychotic relapse after she finds out her sister isn’t dead and does the shit she does, except Singed, when he got his hands on exploded Jinx, doesn't just let her walk out of there, and so no dinner party :DDD everyone lives. Silco and Jinx fire the rocket together after a heart to heart about Jaycies deal and the war between Piltover and Zaun starts. Mel, Ekko and Jayce still disappear, since those circumstances are not connected. Jinx is on the frontlines, Vi joins the firelights. Caitlyn and Ambessa are trying to navigate martial law

Singed still makes Warwick (feels immense guilt for it in relation to Silco, but its ultimately for his daughter) and he is used in the frontlines (kind of what ambessa wanted to do lmao). Silco finds out he is Vander eventually, and Singed has to show him the Orianna room! He visits herald Viktor (because he might be the key to reviving ori) but then Viktor gets killed by saviour Jaycie and Singed brings Warwick to save him. Then he takes some of Viktor’s newly formed cocoon fluid and injects it into Oriannas tube (like in og arcane in that one scene). Orianna is resurrected and Jinx must learn to live with a new little sister. Meanwhile war is still going on.

I have not thought of the evil mage Viktor situation for this AU yet since that is a big part of arcane season 2 but after the war is won and idk how long it takes silco and singed get married!!1!1!

Orianna in this au is also raised by silco and singed. She’s attending private ballet classes and learning mechanics (after the war lmao)

[sadiecoocoo]

Arcane jayvik epic au

Jayce is Ody they look really similar in act 2 and are both motivated by their loved ones and getting back to them/saving them in some way

Viktor could honestly be a lot of characters, especially how throughout season 2 his character had a lot of changes so if we follow some aspects of arcane with the epic story we could say that different versions of Viktor are different characters at the same time…

like I feel like Mage Viktor could either be Athena or Tiresias since they’re both kind of guides to ody and also Tiresias is a prophet

the herald could be Poseidon, he’s trying to stop Jayce from stopping the glorious evolution so hes being a bitch

S1 Viktor could either be Penelope or Polites. Obvious reason would be that both are often seen as ody’s love interests, though Polites isn’t canon. Also Polites’ death was a big changing point in Ody’s story, like Viktor’s was in Jayce’s. Jayce would also be trying to bring his Viktor back, similar to how ody is trying to get home to Penelope. So ig Polites and Penelope’s characters would be combined for this au

Mel would honestly also work as Athena since she is both really smart and good at war and fighting (you know she would beat the god games in record time). She could also be Calypso but I feel that’s doing her dirty

Ambessa would be Zeus, being a big problem but not the main person trying to stop Ody. Also the disagreement between her and Mel is similar to the God Games

Vi could be Eurylochus since she and Jayce are sorta pals but also whenever they work together things go horribly wrong

Caitlyn could be Circe she’s just giving me those vibes (honestly could switch her and Vi’s roles and tweak the epic story so Ody isn’t the one that uses the other way of persuasion)

Jinx could be Hermes cause she would absolutely be amazing at being a silly messenger god that shows up to help out and also cause chaos. She could also be Aeolus

Sevika gives me ares vibes

Lest as Aphrodite I need not elaborate (not rlly shipping her and Seviks tho but it can be seen as that if you want :))

Silco could be Polyphemus since the eye thing and also being the one to kind of kickstart everyone’s problems

Singed could be Antinous cuz of his role with manipulating Viktor and being the one to really create the herald (this one is kinda a stretch but idk)

Another version of Jayce could be Hephaestus, maybe Giopara (I honestly don’t know much about him so idk if that would fit) or the “dead” Jayce from Mage Viktor’s world

That’s all I can think of right now

All of these are open for discussion and I’d love to hear you guy’s thoughts on this!

[janeyseymour]

Once again, I just want to say I love your writing!! I was wondering if I could make a request? Reader goes out with the Abbott gang (maybe for a teacher mixer or something) and gets tipsy and Mel ends up taking care of her?

Details totally up to you; I just really like seeing what you create!

bestie, i got you.

Part 1. Part 2.

WC: ~2.3k

Enchanted- pt 3

Ava is currently trying to get you to convince Melissa, your girlfriend of two months now, to go out with you guys even though you know it’s almost a hopeless cause. Her and Barbara usually choose to stay in for the night and drink wine instead of going out and partying with you guys.

“Ava, I really don’t think she will… and I know Barb wouldn’t be caught dead in the clubs we like to go to,” you tell her.

“What if we just went out to a nice bar at first? I’ll let Jacob choose the place, so you know it’ll be boring as hell,” she counters.

You purse your lips at that. Those are usually the outings that the two older women are more willing to partake in. “I’ll talk to her, okay?”

“Let me know, girl. Because if she ain’t goin’, there ain’t no way in hell I’m letting the white boy pick.” Your best friend hangs up after that, and you sigh softly to yourself. This isn’t going to be an easy task.

As you pull into her driveway, you know you’re going to have to ask her. And normally, she’s willing to do virtually anything you want, but this is going to be tough- even for you.

“There you are, gorgeous,” Melissa smiles from the doorway. 

You give her a wave before reaching into your passenger seat to grab your bag and the wine you brought over. You can feel the way her eyes are trained on your ass in the tight jeans you’re wearing (you’ll steal a pair of her sweatpants once you’ve gotten what you want). You make your way up to the door and pull her in for a soft, warm kiss.

“Hey,” you say softly. She lets you in and leads you to the kitchen. It already smells amazing.

She stirs her sauce for a few seconds before spinning around and drinking in your look. Her eyes go up and down your body a few times as she licks her lips.

“Like what you see?” you chuckle as you reach up to grab two wine glasses.

“You know I do,” she says huskily, hands palming your ass before wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against her.

You turn in her arms and give her a quick peck. “Not now,” you laugh. “I want wine and dinner.”

“Not a good day at the office?” she asks you, brows furrowed in concern.

“If you thought Ava could be bad, you would murder my boss some days,” you sigh. “How was your day, babe?”

“Actually pretty good,” Melissa tells you as she sets her chin on your shoulder. “Ava was willing to help me out, the kids were good, and Barb and I were talking about the different wines we’ll drink while you youngin’s are out partying it up tomorrow.”

You know the principal was just trying to butter up your girlfriend so she would be more open to the idea of going out with you all, but the redhead doesn’t necessarily need to know that.

“That’s nice,” you smile as you turn in her arms to look at her. “Speaking of… I really would love if you would come out with us.”

“Hun,” she sighs. “You know I’m too old to be out clubbing and drinking with youse.”

“Ava said Jacob is picking where we go to dinner, and then… you and Barb can come back here and have your wine night.” You kiss her gently. “I really would appreciate if you would come with us, at least to start the night.”

Your girlfriend says into your beck, nipping it gently. “I’ll call Barb.”

You grin. “You’re the best.”

She pulls her phone out of her back pocket as she goes to attend to the vegetables simmering in the pan and dials her work wife. You love watching how she can easily multi-task, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder, keeping an arm looped around your waist, and still making dinner. You sip your wine with glee.

“Hey. We’re going out to dinner tomorrow night with the crew, and then when they inevitably want to go out to drink more, we can come back to my place and have our wine.”

“Melissa,” you can hear the kindergarten teacher sigh.

“I know, I know,” she says into the phone. “But Jacob is picking the place, so you know it’s going to be way more tame than if Ava picked… and Y/N would be delighted to see you again.”

“So it’s Y/N that’s convinced you to go out,” Barbara smirks into the phone.

“Shut it,” your girlfriend laughs. “But yes. She’ll be there, so it would be nice to go.”

“I suppose I can show up for you and your woman,” the kindergarten teacher chuckles.

“Thank you, Barb!” you call into the phone. “You’re the best!”

“She sure has you wrapped around her finger, huh,” Barbara teases the redhead.

“Goodbye,” your girlfriend rolls her eyes. She hangs up the phone.

You grin as you turn in Melissa’s arms and kiss her deeply. “You’re the absolute best.”

“Don’t I know it,” she retorts playfully.

So here you are, sitting in a restaurant with the Abbott crew, Melissa and Barbara also with you. Ava is complaining that this place is boring and that you should “blow this popsicle stand”. You roll your eyes at her antics, reminding her that you haven’t even ordered your first round and your meals yet.

Dinner is nice. This place, for as odd as the atmosphere is, has great food and even better drinks. You order yourself another one, not realizing just how strong they make the drinks here- you can’t even taste the alcohol. That should have been your first clue as to just how strong these drinks were.

You drink your second one happily, and your cheeks turn red once that one is finished. You look over to Melissa who is sipping her glass of wine and talking to Barb contently.

“You’re so pretty tonight,” you tell her so quietly that no one else can hear. 

The redhead smiles at you and lays a gentle hand over your knee. “Thank you.” She kisses your cheek. “You smell like booze.”

“Well, I had two already,” you chuckle. “They were good.”

“Your cheeks are already flushed,” she laughs softly as she cups your cheek with her hand.

“Oops,” you giggle.

“Try to pace yourself?”

You nod, but usually nights out with the Abbott crew mean that you’re getting hammered, and you’re going to feel like shit tomorrow. Tonight will be no exception, and you know this when Ava loudly announces that the bill has been paid, and you’re moving on to your next destination for the night.

Just tipsy enough to beg Melissa to come follow you to the next spot, you look to her with pleading eyes. “Please, baby?”

Your girlfriend glances over to Barbara who raises an eyebrow.

“Hun, you know Barb and I usually don’t stick around for your wild nights,” the redhead tries to let you down gently.

You frown, but it is quickly replaced with a smile. “That’s okay,” you say.

Barbara though, has glanced down at her phone, and a text form Gerald has come through. She taps both of you on the arm.

“Gerald just texted me to tell me that he has a special surprise for me at home, so I unfortunately cannot come over for wine night,” the kindergarten teacher states. “I have to head out, but I’ll see the two of you later.”

Melissa purses her lips and furrows her brow, but Barbara just waves her off. “Enjoy tonight.” She heads out, leaving Melissa to her own devices.

“Please?” you look to the redhead with puppy dog eyes, and she knows she can’t say no now- especially with Barb not here now to give her an excuse to not go.

That’s how you find yourself in a dimly lit bar, taking shot after shot with your best friend and the rest of the Abbott crew, sans Melissa. Your woman has taken it upon herself to be the least drunk of all of her coworkers, and she’s watching over you diligently from the bar as you dance your heart out on the floor.

You’re… enchanting. The way your hips sway and you sing along to the music without a care in the world… God. She loves the way you look tonight, the way you are so free, the way that you always show up for Ava- even with all of her shenanigans. She loves you- every single thing about you is a reason for her to fall even more madly in love with you. 

You catch her watching you, and you can’t help but grin and move your hips in a way that you know will have her drooling. She nearly does. You can’t help but throw your head back as you laugh at the way she’s entirely enchanted with the way that you look. Deciding to take a break from all of the dancing, you try to make your way over to the redhead sitting on one of the barstools. But because of your intoxicated state, you half stumble to her instead.

Once you’re close enough to her, you fall into her arms. She catches you, of course she does.

“You having fun?” you ask her as you press your lips to hers. You taste like all of the vodka cranberry drinks you’ve downed, and there’s a hint of cinnamon lingering in your breath from the fireball shots that you did with Ava.

She just laughs. “Are you?”

“Of course I am!” you slur out. “But I would be having more fun if you would come dance with me!”

Somehow, by some grace of God, you get Melissa on the floor with you. She grabs at your hips as you dance with her. The rest of the world melts away, and it’s just the two of you.

But then Ava is holding out a green tea shot for you take with her, and as soon as you swallow, you know you just went over your limit. You’re going to end tonight throwing up your guts, and you really don’t want to do that in the filthy bathroom at this skanky dive bar.

“Mel,” you whine out. “Wanna go home… Don’t feel good.”

Without thinking, she immediately turns into the overprotective woman that you know and love. She tells the crew that the two of you are heading out, and she half carries you out of the bar.

The cool air hits you as you step out onto the sidewalk, and you feel a bit better. It was getting pretty stuffy in there.

“You feelin’ any better now that we’re out of there?” she asks you softly, kissing your temple.

You hum and allow her to lead you to the car.

She drives as carefully as she can, but with the state you’re in… you don’t feel so well again. You close your eyes, but that only makes you feel worse, so you force yourself to open your eyes and watch whatever is straight in front of you.

“We’re almost home,” Melissa says softly, patting your leg soothingly. “You’ll be okay.”

You just make a face that tells her you’re doing everything you can right now to not get sick in her car.

Once she pulls into her driveway, you bolt for the bushes. After emptying out the contents in your stomach, you wipe your mouth hastily and apologize to her sheepishly.

“I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t take an Uber,” she mumbles as she pulls you in. “Let’s get you in and up to bed.”

You let her carry you into her house and up the steps, fully knowing that you’re physically incapable of using your legs right now. She undresses you before putting you into a pair of her sleep shorts and one of her old Abbott shirts. She guides you to the bathroom, forces you to brush your teeth and use mouthwash, and then the two of you are climbing into bed.

You bolt quickly before heaving. There’s nothing left in your system as of right now though. You feel gentle hands weaving their way through your hair, and then you hear a hair tie being put at the end of the braid your girlfriend had just done for you.

You give her a questioning look.

“So if anything happens in the middle of the night, your hair won’t be in the way,” she shrugs. “It’s happened too many times to me.”

You go to peck her cheek, but she pushes you away.

“No way, dog breath.” She reaches for the mouthwash again, and you swish it in your mouth before spitting it into the sink.

“Thank you,” you slur out.

“Of course, hun,” the redhead tells you. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

After getting some of the liquid poison out of your system, you’re feeling a bit more sober. 

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this,” you apologize sheepishly.

Your girlfriend just brushes a few of the untamable flyaways away from your face before gently pressing her lips to your temple. “Even like this, you’re still the most enchanting woman I’ve ever met.”

You swoon at her words and curl into her hold even further.

“Get some sleep, love. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

“Because we’re at your house,” you quip, eyelids fluttering shut.

“And? I’ll still be here. Always will be.”

And she is. When you wake up, head pounding and stomach still churning, she’s got a bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water waiting for you. 

[halyasgirl]

Thinking of a decidedly non-fixit Arcane AU where Silco and Vander both live, but now have to navigate negotiations with Piltover for the nation of Zaun, and the fallout in their families.

Eight years ago, when Marcus spirited Vi away to rot in prison, unbeknownst to anyone he managed to take a just-barely-alive Vander, too. Vander remains Marcus’ best-kept secret, but after Silco and Jinx are arrested, he’s yanked from the bowels of Stillwater and reinstalled as leader of the newly declared nation of Zaun.

Reeling from his change of circumstance and the paths his family has taken during his imprisonment, Vander must now navigate the aftermath of the very different plans Vi and Silco have laid for an independent Zaun. 

But after five months of negotiations, all Zaunite prisoners are released from Piltovan prisons, and Vander and Vi must confront their siblings, and grapple with the base violence necessary for change. Takes place at the end of an alternate Act III.

Vander survived like Vi did, but Vi does not realize this at the time. She spends her entire time in Stillwater believing he died of his injuries.

Shimmer did allow him to survive, but he remains Vander rather than Warwick the robot-zombie-werewolf/living embodiment of the Hound of the Underground he will almost certainly be in canon.

The plot of Arcane proceeds pretty much normally. Caitlyn does not initially learn of Vander, as he wasn’t involved in the incident with Silco’s henchman. Few Piltovans know about Vander, and prior to Jayce and Mel’s initiative, even fewer care enough about Zaun to bother with him. After Caitlyn and Vi address the Council, Marcus’ dealings are discovered, and the idea of Zaunite independence is floated, some rusty gears start turning, but Jayce isn’t privy to this and still attempts to negotiate with Silco.

Silco still spirals when offered independence at the price of his daughter, and still monologues to Vander[‘s statue] about it. However, word of the terms, and Silco’s refusal of them, somehow gets out to the other Chembarons, and then to Zaun at large.

Fortunately, this manages to head off Jinx’s tea party of horrors.

Unfortunately, this leads to a (very understandably) enraged mob of Zaunites willing to drag both father and daughter to the bridge of Piltover for the price of one, and/or stone them in the streets.

Silco has precious few moments to assure Jinx he’d never forsake her. When the mob comes for them, he tells her to go and tries to cover her escape, but Jinx refuses to be separated from him. The mob washes over them.

Jinx, as she always does, fights like a woman possessed. Silco may be rusty, but he is and will always be a son of Zaun, and he is scrappy. When a man cuts off one of Jinx’s braids and starts tearing at her clothes, Silco stabs him to death with his own knife. But when the first stone is thrown, at the foot of the Bridge, all he can do is throw his scrawny body over hers in a desperate attempt to shield her.

Meanwhile, Cassandra Kirammen has just seen fit to reveal Vander’s survival to Caitlyn, who races to tell Vi (who is in Zaun hunting Sevika).

Vi is nearly overcome with joy at his survival and the prospect of rebuilding Zaun with a stable adult, and almost as pleased when they hear an angry mob has come for Silco. However, her joy turns to horror when she realizes Powder is with him, and Jinx is just as much a target of the mob as Silco is.

Vi races over the rooftops in the mob’s wake trying to reach her sister. She’s horrified to see a dead man, stabbed and trampled and still clutching a bright blue braid.

The mob surrounds Silco and Jinx at the Bridge, hurling stones. They are dispersed by a warning shot from Cassandra Kiramman, backed by a squad of Enforcers. The first thing Silco sees, when he’s able to lift his head, is a Piltovan gun pointed at him and his daughter.

Vi arrives at the rooftops overlooking the scene to hear Cassandra Kiramman tell them that Violet was right, their own people did turn on them. The anguish in Jinx’s cry as she buries her face in Silco’s chest and he tries to comfort her will haunt Vi for years. For a moment, Silco sees Vi above them, and the accusation and rage on his face as he holds his battered, traumatized daughter is chilling.

Cassandra then drops the bombshell than not only has Vander survived, he’s now poised to become the new leader of Zaun (provided cooperation with the Council). Cue Silco breakdown.

Vi watches the Enforcers arrest Silco and Jinx as Zaun processes this news. Having all but traded places with her sister after all these years, her reunion with Vander takes a bittersweet cast as she, Vander, and Ekko set about rebuilding Zaun and dismantling Silco’s Shimmer empire.

The chembarons put up a fight, but not as much as they might’ve, at least openly. Sevika managed to avoid the mob and she quickly emerges as one of the voices Vander knows he’ll have to negotiate with. Ekko and especially Vi are not happy with this, but the fact remains that Zaun is sorely lacking in any remaining competent leadership who’s been in the Lanes for the past 8 years and is even remotely trusted by the people.

Meanwhile, Silco and Jinx have had near-simultaneous breakdowns with the reveal that Vander is alive, Vi “betrayed” them to Piltover, and both of them are now working with Topside for the independence Silco’s (allegedly) been working for for the past 8 years. Convinced more than ever that everyone else betrays them, they become, if possible, even more codependent.

They are separated during intake (Jinx’s other braid is cut so she's not lopsided), and their frantic reunion in the canteen attracts attention, and some crude suggestions that Jinx should find herself a younger man. Silco, disgusted, says she’s his daughter.

Silco has failed to stand up to Piltover, failed to keep power in Zaun, and now apparently failed to kill Vander. His single-minded devotion to Jinx is all that stands between him and a complete breakdown, but his power to protect his child is severely limited in prison; in Zaun he was a king, here he’s just a sump-rat. And he’s fading.

Like the mutant fish that prowl the waters, Silco is adapted to the chemicals and pollutants in Zaun, and when cut off from the Shimmer, like a fish out of water, he gets very sick, very quickly.

Silco and Jinx see each other at meals and outdoor hour (no effort is made to separate men and women), but otherwise prisoners are left to rot. Neither engage with any other prisoners, even their henchmen. But Silco gets weaker, and as the months turn colder, he becomes too sick to leave his cell. When he doesn’t show at the canteen, Jinx takes it upon herself to go to him. She locates his cell and sneaks in at night (with some lockpicking help from Mylo’s ghost?). She can evade the guards, but she tells Silco they’re more concerned about keeping prisoners in Stillwater than what they do in there. Silco is more concerned about the implications of who might be able to get into his teenage daughter’s cell.

Silco is not doing well. Guards bring food to his cell, but don’t bother to see if he eats it. He can’t keep it down, and he’s becoming too weak to try. He tries to give it to Jinx, telling her not to waste it. It’s the only thing he can do for her.

He’s dying, and despite his attempts to reassure Jinx she’ll be alright, he’s terrified at the thought of leaving her alone. Jinx is determined to keep him alive though.

She makes it to his cell every night, rumors be damned. When he becomes too weak to eat, she feeds him, doing everything she can to keep him fed, keep him warm, keep him breathing through the night. Fluid fills his lungs, leaving him in a state of constant drowning. He lapses into delirium, raving about Marcus and Vander and Vi, about Piltover and Shimmer and the nation of Zaun. Eventually, he can barely keep down water, and all Jinx can do for him is draw sharks on the walls and ceiling of his cell, to guard him when he’s trapped in nightmares he can’t wake from (she gets it.)

After five months of negotiations (~December?), Vander and Vi secure the release of all Zaunite prisoners from Piltovan prisons. What to do with them presents a challenge, as Zaun has no criminal justice system and next-to-no legitimate economy. Many of the prisoners are petty criminals by Piltovan standards, but ordinary citizens caught by Topside in Zaun. Then there are prisoners like Silco and Jinx, considered personae non gratae even (or especially) in Zaun. No one knows what to do with them, but it’s agreed they should face Zaunite justice.

Piltover knows that “Zaunite justice” could involve another mob, but they don’t care enough to object. Vi and Vander also know this, and care very much.

Vi is still in denial that Powder/Jinx is hated as much or more than Silco.

The prisoner transfer comes with little warning in the bowels of Stillwater, as the guards round up all the “sump-rat” prisoners one morning and send them to the Bridge, where the leaders of Zaun have assembled.

Vi is overcome with relief when she sees Powder among the released prisoners, but Jinx can’t find Silco.

He’s at the end of the crowd. As per the agreement, Piltover will release prisoners at the bridge, but he must cross it himself, and he’s barely able to walk. When he tries he immediately slips on the icy ground and doesn’t get up. Guards are laughing, Jinx is becoming frantic, and Sevika senses danger. 

Lying face-up on the bridge, Silco looks up at the flag of the new nation of Zaun and almost gives in. And then he hears Jinx screaming his name.

Silco can’t walk and Jinx can’t carry him. But she won’t allow anyone near, and Vander and Vi just agitate her more. Sevika finally steps forward to carry him to a van that will take him and Jinx back to Zaun.

Sevika takes a moment to assess their condition before making the executive decision to drug Jinx unconscious and carry Silco into the Last Drop

 Vander takes one look at him and calls for a doctor. When it becomes clear that Singed expects him to die and is a little too enthusiastic at the prospect of dissecting his eye, Caitlyn offers her father’s services as a doctor and escorts him to Zaun.

Vi stays at Powder’s bedside. When Jinx wakes asking for Silco, Vi tries to assure her she’ll never have to see him again, only for Jinx to punch her in the face and rush to Silco’s bedside calling for her father.

The first thing she sees is Vander standing over him, and she wrenches him away with strength that shouldn’t be possible. When Vander comes face to face with his youngest daughter after 8 years he can’t help but flinch.

Powder was the kindest of his children, the sweetest, gentlest, always trying to please. Jinx looks at him with rage and fear and accusation and betrayal and hate. She looks at him with Silco’s eyes, the last time he saw him.

Then she has him on the ground, too fast for him to react, going for his knife as Vi and Sevika try to separate them. Jinx and Vi briefly square off to defend their fathers, before Silco stirs.

Tobias Kiramman arrives to find the leader of Zaun battered and brooding, Caitlyn comforting a tearful Vi (who’s sporting a black eye), and Silco and Jinx reuniting for the first time in an independent Zaun. Both are weeping. It would be touching, if they weren’t who they were.

He recognizes Singed as a disgraced former doctor turned serial killer, and is concerned by the Zaunites’ unsurprised reactions. He’s the only doctor in Zaun, and the good ones wouldn’t come to the Undercity if they had any choice.

He’s also disturbed by the condition Silco’s in. It should have been obvious he was ill, but it’s clear he received no medical care in prison.

When Vander slashed his face open, chemicals in the water leached into the wound, formed crystals in his flesh, in the back of his eye. His eye’s turned black, the flesh of his cheek underneath caved in and rotted away. What was in that water? Singed would love to find out! Some phenol maybe. Shimmer kept infection at bay, but now…

He’s so weak Tobias warns Vander he may not live, but Vander tells him he will, because Silco’s a survivor, for better or worse.

Silco and Jinx’s move back in the Last Drop goes about as well as Sevika expects. They put Jinx in Powder’s old room, leading to disturbing, violent meltdowns that Vi and Vander are unprepared to deal with, while Silco’s health crashes several times in one night.

Vander concedes that it’s unsustainable and, on Sevika’s suggestion, eventually puts Jinx with Silco over Vi’s objections, as he’s the only one who can halfway calm her during meltdowns and she's the only one with experience with his healthcare.

Jinx has become Silco’s sole motivation to go on, and their dynamics subtly reverse. Clinginess and insecurity are traits readily associated with Jinx, but not obviously with Silco. Jinx has always been dependent on Silco, but in Stillwater and after she cared for him. This wasn’t to pump up her feelings of importance, or even a child’s desperation to avoid losing another parental figure; Jinx sincerely cared for her father out of concern. When he tells her she saved his life, she tells him children can take care of parents when they grow up. 

The threat to their relationship was never Vander. Vi is another story, but Silco is Jinx’s father, not him.

Vander is unwilling to ask anyone else to care for Silco, and whatever Jinx can’t do Vander does himself. Silco alternates between vicious cruelty and such obvious physical and mental agony it’s impossible to fake, and he can swing unpredictably from one to another. He doesn’t need to accuse Vander; he knows.

Silco’s necessarily feeling overwhelmed and emotional after learning of Vander’s survival and Zaun gaining independence. He’d finally understood and and even forgiven Vander when he believed him to be dead, but the reality of confronting him alive is very different.

Vander: Sweeps in to gain independence and claim leadership of Zaun after 8 years in solitary confinement 🙌

Silco: half-carried out by his teenage daughter after 5 months in prison

Yeah, Silco doesn’t like that.

On one night, Vander freezes outside Silco’s door, listening to his brother curse Marcus and his deception, writhing and crying in pain from the wounds Vander gave him as Jinx tries to soothe him by describing how she killed Marcus in graphic detail, and offering to kill his 5-year old daughter. He curses Vander too, and Vander flinches when he hears Powder offer to kill him as well, if it would make him feel better. But even wracked with pain, Silco realizes how dangerous this could be and that he needs to be the adult in this situation. He declines, and tells Jinx to be absolutely sure he’s lucid before carrying out any hit jobs he issues. 

On another night, Vander finds Silco passed out covered in vomit and carries him to the bathroom to clean him up; as he puts him in the tub Silco comes to and panics at the combination of Vander and water, struggling violently enough to injure Vander and himself. Vander in frustration finally asks if he would burden Jinx with all of his care, and Silco begrudgingly surrenders. When Vander makes him admit he hasn’t kept any food down all day, he brings him new food to eat and watches him eat it. Silco tries to tell him not to waste it and give it to Jinx, but Vander snaps at him that it’s not a waste.

They begin to speak, a little, about their children. What to do with Jinx? Redeem her as Powder or prosecute her as Jinx? Silco credits Jinx’s theft of the Hex gem and threat to Piltover for Zaunite independence, the base violence necessary for change. She’s perfect, he tells Vander, a true daughter of Zaun. She’s done what we never could.

Vander’s learned a lot about the things Jinx has done, what Powder’s turned into. He can’t tell if Silco is truly that blind to her faults or if he’s in denial. When he presses Silco about what role he played in making Jinx, Silco riles, but not at the accusation he corrupted her. He genuinely believes that becoming Jinx was the only way to heal Powder from the pain of betrayal, something he knows well.

He tells Vander that after Vander tried to kill him, he returned to the mines, through paths even Vander never knew. He stumbled for days (though he admits he might have been hallucinating, as there are things in the mines that can make you “see things”) before he came to an underground clearing filled with impossible flowers sustained by a mysterious glowing fluid. He collapsed there, and it was there Singed found him. Singed asked him if he wanted to live, and Silco tells Vander he wanted revenge.

Vander’s heard enough and turns to go, but Silco becomes more agitated, snarling at Vander not to turn away from him, to look at him. But to Vander’s surprise, he doesn’t seem motivated by anger or possessiveness or a disagreement in ideology; he’s terrified for what will happen to Jinx if they try to force her to become Powder again, reduced to begging Vander not to do that to her.

When news comes that Piltover has officially recognized the nation of Zaun, most of the surviving adults of the rebellion generation are overwhelmed with emotion at the news. Silco breaks down as Jinx comforts him and Vi finds Vander weeping in the Last Drop and goes to him. Caitlyn spies Sevika crying quietly in a back room and slips away before she sees.

Silco and Vander have achieved everything they once wanted with the nation of Zaun, but they cannot share this victory together, not now. The truth they are unwilling to concede is that Zaun’s independence took both Silco and Jinx’s “base violence necessary for change,” and Vander and Vi’s diplomacy and compromise with Piltover. They need to be united, as they once were, as they always planned to be, if they are to move forward. But they won’t. They can’t. Not anymore.

Vander was never meant to be the diplomat. Silco was supposed to be the clever one, the negotiator, who wove his way through a trail of paperwork and legalese, who’d gain the respect of the Pilties once Vander was done cowing them from the Undercity. It takes more than a revolution to build a nation. Vander needs his brother now.

But that’s just it, isn’t it? Silco’s there, he’s right there, down the hall, on the other side of the door! But his brother is gone.

On top of that, wanting Silco dead is one of the few things that unite most in Zaun (and Vi and Ekko aren’t inclined to deny them). Vander insists he will stand trial once he’s strong enough to stand, but many would prefer a quicker end to justice. Fear of Jinx is all that stands between Silco and a very easy death.

Sevika: You’re welcome to try. It’s just a matter of how many of you Jinx will take with her.

Vander is between a rock and a very hard place. One night, Silco wakes to Vander crying silently over him, but gives no indication that he’s awake. Silco and Jinx are monsters, but they are monsters of Vander’s own making. It is not possible for Vander to pursue justice for Zaun without betraying his brother and his daughter, again.

Silco gradually becomes aware that a significant factor in independence negotiations was the return of the Hextech gem to Piltover, and it hasn’t been returned yet, because Vander and Vi can’t find it in the Undercity. When Jinx confides that she hid it before the mob took her and knows its location, for the first time since Stillwater, Silco has some hope.

 For better or worse, Silco is back in the game. He starts to pull himself together. His hair’s grown out, hanging unevenly to his jaw, clipped back with Jinx’s sparkly barrettes. He's lost so much weight his dress shirts no longer fit, so he wears them wrapped around, held in place with a belt that needed a new hole worked into it, and what look like pinstriped pajama bottoms. Tobias Kiramman hears one Zaunite comment that “at least he’s dressing normally now.”

At one point he also watches in horror as Silco, barely strong enough to walk, lights up a cigarette. When Dr. Kiramman protests, citing his lungs, Silco coolly asks Jinx to open a window, allowing a haze of greenish smog to enter. As Tobias chokes and coughs, the two Zaunites remain impassive, and three glowing eyes stare at him through the haze.

Sevika also pays Silco a visit. She denies being a traitor, as she worked for Zaun, not Silco, but tells him she wasn’t the one who exposed his deal with Piltover to the Chembarons and to Zaun (That was Renni, and I honestly can’t blame her). She also tells him he looks like shit, but more like himself than he has in years.

Silco’s plan is to use knowledge of the Hex gem as a bargaining chip. Not to avoid prosecution, he knows that’s impossible, but his goal is to get a sentence that’s survivable rather than being left to rot in Stillwater, with a guard bribable enough to allow Jinx visits (and potentially explore other means of leverage).

He also seeks to shield Jinx from prosecution, taking all blame for her crimes however implausible. Everyone in Zaun knows it’s a lie, but Silco’s hoping that apathy will save them rather than ignorance. 

Ironically enough, his and Vi’s goals are completely aligned, had they ever considered coordinating their assertions that Jinx was blameless and acting solely on Silco’s orders.

However, all his plans fall to nothing when, on trial by the leaders of Piltover and Zaun, Jinx lives up to her name, threatening them with Hextech weaponry in a bid to protect Silco. Sevika later finds him crumpled in a corner, helpless and out of options to save his daughter or himself.

(This family is so doomed by the narrative).

[neminomnom]

Arcane characters music taste

Includes: Vi, jinx, Caitlyn, Mel, Maddie, Felicia, Vander, Silco, Sevika, au! Powder, Ekko

This took ages because I kept on rewriting everything and I fumbled on silcos, please forgive me 🙏🙏 ‼️‼️ creds to arcanegifs for the Felicia and Caitlyn gifs ‼️‼️

Violet

-It all depends on the activity she is doing, but in general her music taste is a bit random yet makes sense at the same time

-For example, she has a set playlist for if she’s working out, then it would be mostly songs from rammenstien, fallout boys, twenty one pilots and maybe some iron maiden, her favourite song to listen to when boxing and training is Fear of the dark by Iron maiden.

-But, if she’s doing a more calming activity, you WILL hear Bruno mars, Tyler the creator and Chappell roan blasting through the house, but if someone walks in she will change it immediately to something else.

Jinx

- Any song with lots of energy and is fast paced she loves, if it’s late at night you would find jinx dancing her heart out around her hideout listening to any of the below

-Her playlist can go from evanescence, hole and rare Americans to Ayesha erotica, Lady gaga and ashniko. Jinx has every single album from all of those artists on Vinly and as CD, out of all of them, Fallen by evanescence is her favourite album.

-When she’s trying to create some new inventions or is tired and needs to stay up later, she plays Ashniko religiously to keep her brain stimulated so she can stay awake for longer. Jinx knows all the lyrics to every single song by ashniko and lady gaga.

Caitlyn

-Caitlyn is Marinas number one fan, if Marina has no fans then Caitlyn is dead.

-Of course she lives other artists, like Billie eilish and a bit of mitski here and there, but Caitlyn relates to Marinas songs the most and she loves every single one of them, her favourite song being seventeen, along with that her favourite album by marina is the family jewels (Deluxe)

- Caitlyn probably cried the first time she heard once more to see you again by mitski, and the 30th by Billie eilish, those two songs make her an emotional wreck in the first 5 seconds of listening to them, but she likes listening to the hit me hard and soft album when she’s in the shower.

Mel

-Lana del ray and beyonce until she dies, but also quite likes beabadoobee, not as much as the other two though.

-It may be one of her most popular songs, but Mel adores summertime sadness by Lana del ray, her favourite album being ultravoilence, she probably listens to Lana del ray when she’s in the bath and needs to relax, or when she’s getting ready to go out.

-Mel loves to listen to Beyoncé when she’s painting, it’s her favourite thing to play, her favourite song being Diva and her favourite album being Dangerously in love.

Maddie

-Olivia Rodrigo and Taylor swift all the way

-gets really offended if someone says they doesn’t like Taylor swift, she’s memorized all of the Taylor swift songs but prefers her older songs, out of al log them she loves look what you made me do, she doesn’t have a particular favourite album, she loves them all.

- at any minor convenience, you WILL hear vampire getting played at full blast in her room, she has so much Olivia Rodrigo merchandise nd would have a huge poster in her room of her, finds Olivia so cool.

Felicia

- she’s definitely an avid ABBA, Madonna and Adele fan

-would dance in the kitchen while cooking dinner with powder and vi when they was little while listening to any of these artists, Madonna is her favourite.

- Felicia could listen to Material girl by Madonna for hours and never get bored, she loves that song so much, but she also really likes ABBA, sos is her favourite song by them, her favourite Adele song is probably set fire to the rain.

- But she isn’t picky, will gladly dance around to any song what gets put on and has a good beat to it

Vander

-British dad music

-Queen, the Beatles, Oasis, the artic monkeys and just any old band vander would probably listen to, Oasis is his favourite one and probably would have a whole shops worth of band shirts and hoodies if he could.

-Favourite thing to do is play his favourite songs about 10 minutes before the last drop opens, his favourite song is Lyla by oasis, but he does love any queen song with every bone in his body and will start singing along as loud as he can.

Silco

-Bon jovi, Type O negative, depache mode and ghost.

-Loved ghost and Type O negative a lot more when he was younger, but silco still listens to them, not as much though. Doesn’t really sing along or dance around when listening to music, he just hums instead.

-Favourite song is precious by depache mode, but his favourite album is life is killing me by type O negative, but sometimes he just plays our love by Curtis Harding and jazmine sullivan if he wants to listen to something really familiar.

Sevika

-Metallica, nirvana and korn.

-loves listening to coming undone or seen it all when she’s trying to fix her arm, sevika had a collection of posters from all those bands when she was a teenager, same with shirts, metalllica being her favourite one out of the three.

-all said posters now live in a cardboard box somewhere in a random corner of her flat, she also had all of the Metallica vinyls, but they got lost and damaged. Sevikas favourite albums from all three is master of puppets, life is peachy and In utero

Powder

-Will probably listen to anything on the radio, she isn’t that fussed about music.

-She loves the specials, Tv girl and pink Floyd are probably her top three, the specials is her favourite thing to listen to while getting ready, Tv girl when she feels like she needs a sing and a dance then pink Floyd if she wants to stare at her ceiling and think about life for a good few hours.

-Will in fact listen to everything, will she enjoy it all? Nope, but will still listen to anything if someone else is enjoying it. Powders favourite album is death of a party girl and her favourite song is gangsters by the specials, has so many tv girl references in her room.

Ekko

- Anything with a good beat Ekko will dance along too

-particularly likes Tyler the creator, Bruno mars and Billie eilish, I don’t make up the rules. Ekko has a list of his top five songs in order being: see you again, sticky, just the way you are, apt then number 5 being lunch by billie eilish.

-he knows all of those artists songs word for word with no mistakes, has a morning playlist with all the energetic songs to make him get up, and has an evening one with more calming songs off those artists for when he’s tired and wants to go to sleep. Ekkos favourite albums are st.chroma, hit me hard and soft and 24k magic.