#WST

[roseamongroses]

with strange tenderness ch: 7/7

Melvika - Timebomb [side] Alternate Universe - Modern Setting /Alternate Universe - Small Town /Artist Mel Medarda/ Muse! Sevika /Court Mandated Found Family/ Sevika Does Not Get Paid Enough (Arcane: League of Legends)/ Retired! Sevika/ Parental Death/ Past Traumatic Events/ Past Violence & Stalking/ Mild Sexual Content/ Dog/Cat Dynamic/ Canon-Typical Exploitation of the Working Class/Mentions of Police Brutality/ Suicidal Ideation/Surviors Guilt/ no beta we die like Silco/ Vitiligo! Mel/ repeated silco slander/ Hurt/Comfort/ Past Child Abuse/ Past Neglect/ Domestic Fluff

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[1]/[2][3][4][5][6]/[7]

ao3

-

Fists aching, blood pooling thick, warm. A trickle of red escaped the cracked corners of her mouth. A rotten taste she caught on her tongue before she spat it out into the snow.

Her head throbbed hearing those distant sirens, dizzying for her ringing ears.

Sevika stared up and up, falling flurries twinkling in that dark night. Kissing her skin, each embrace colder than the last. Dark eyes, dull, listless. She counted each one, soon forgetting what number she said last, seconds and minutes blending together.

And in spite of it all, she smiled. A throaty laugh threatening to escape at the absurdity of what she had realized. That it was this--the blood, the aches, that throbbing rush that came with uncertainty-- that finally got her dead heart beating faster and faster.

She got up--boots heavy against the asphalt.

-

An endless sky—distant clouds swooping in and out with each swing. Heart beating faster and faster—until she let go. The swing rattled, her wild curls flying back, eyes sparkling as she flew up.

Then—Isha tumbled back to earth.

Snow and sludge coated the sides of her body as she hit the ground with a thud. Her head lolled a bit, breaths sharp as her world went a little dizzy.

Sevika’s head snapped up at the sound, feet moving in an instant, “Isha—” she cursed under her breath.

Isha giggled--short hiccups that climbed her throat all at once. She beamed up at that shadow blocking the looming, afternoon sun.

Dark eyes squinted--looking her over, weary, like they always did. Sevika leaned down, grasping her arms and lifting them out of the snow. She brushed the gunk off of them, picking up the beanie that had fallen off and pulling it over her hair and ears, snug.

Steady on her feet again—Isha rushed back to the swings.

She liked that flightless, floating feeling.

Air crisp—clean—no cars to be seen or smelled. She liked the dirt—the rich earth smell, the biting frost clinging to her skin. How she could run around until her legs ached--not worried about stumbling into a busy street or sidewalk that had no patience for little feet. She liked the quiet of the early mornings at the park—how the city sleeps and wakes slow, gentle. No constant sirens—no screaming—no grasping hands and snarled faces on each corner. How she could always look up and see nothing but sky for miles it seemed. Like she could stay in this dream forever, safe, warm. How she could let go--be flightless. She knew there was always someone there to pick her up and dust her off--again--and again-- when flies too high and falls even harder.

Isha liked Zaun.

-

Little feet tap-tap-tapping--down the hall before she skidded around the corner.

“Isha--give it back,” Jinx lunged, nearly hitting the wall as she followed, fuzzy socks slipping.

Isha waved her little finger back, clutching the scrapbook to her chest. She ducked under the kitchen-table, crawling between the chairs and legs until she was comfortably squeezed behind the wall and Sevika’s chair.

Startled at the intrusion, Vi craned her head, squinting under the table confused.

Sevika adjusted her glasses, evenly sipping from her mug as she sorted through the papers scattered across the kitchen table. She did not look up.

Jinx huffed, circling the kitchen table for an opening. Seeing no--non-desctructive path before her, she looked between the so-called-fucking-adults, hands twitching, “Tell her to give my shit back--” she snapped.

Vi raised her hands, defensive, “Ain't my kid, ain’t my place.”

Nostrils flaring, Jinx’s eyes narrowed at Sevika,

Sevika reached for the pen, twirling it idly between her fingers, “When’d you put a dent in my truck?” she asked, pen clicking as she started striking through some lines of text.

Jinx blanched, taking in a breath, “I…never took your truck, how would I know?” she craned her head, squinting under the table, ire rising, “I didn’t do shit--she took my--”

Sevika raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t--I--” Jinx blew her bangs out of her face, rolling her eyes, “This is fuckin bullshit,” their eyebrows arched higher, “...Three days ago,” she admits with a huff, “It's not even all that big--”

Another line of text was struck through, dark eyes narrowing, “You’re paying for the repair,” Sevika said, scowling. She then reached back, pulling a twenty from her pocket and passing it under her chair.

Isha slid the scrapbook out.

Jinx's eyes darted around wild, realization setting in as she snatched it up,“Did you plan this--?” she hissed out, hugging her scrapbook, “What the hell--”

“Don’t take my shit--I won’t take yours.”

“Fantastic parenting,” Vi drawled, sarcastic. She picked up the cereal box, shaking it out into her open mouth.

“--Not a parent.”

Vi let out a throaty laugh in disbelief, “Su-” she nearly choked, swallowing before shaking more cereal into her mouth.

Jinx’s brain halted its rapid spiral, body stilling. Her head swiveled, attention narrowing in on her sister, watching as she shook the cereal-box until only crumbs fell into her mouth, “Is that…the last of the Lucky Charms?”

Vi froze, swallowing thick “...No-” she said, mouth full. Stray, delicious crumbs falling everywhere.

Underneath the table, Isha froze, nose twitching. She tucked her twenty between her teeth, eyes narrowed as she began army-crawling forward.

Sevika got up from the table, chair scuffing. She laughed, sending Vi a look that could’ve been mistaken for pity if it wasn’t for that bitch of a smile.

Isha launched forward, grabbing Vi’s legs with a deathly grip right as Jinx flung onto her back. Barking laughter and shouts filled the room as they all squabbled.

-

On Isha’s bed, there was a mountain.

A mountain of soft. A teetering lump filled with socks, blankets, pillows, stuff-animals. Anything she could swipe. At the end of each day, she crawled into the mountain, burying herself deep in its warmth.

At the beginning of each day, she surveyed her spoils and decided which one she’d take to school. Something she could fit in her book bag that she could squeeze when she was in timeout or waiting for end-of-day pick up.

Lately it had been the same scarf—wide, white like snow, and fluffy. She wrapped it around her face, taking it everywhere and petting it like a puppy.

Mel had never asked for it back. Isha would never ask if she wanted it back.

It was the perfect exchange.

Until little Billy-bitch fest snatched it during recess and refused to give it back.

So Isha did what most children of Zaun do when faced with displeasing, unforeseen circumstances.

“Ma’am we do not tolerate this type of behavior--” Isha’s teacher explained, deeply exasperated. She was young, a decent educator who was holding onto her first job for dear life, “She cannot keep doing this every time she doesn’t get her way.”

It was only because of that begrudging respect that Sevika chose her words carefully, “He stole from her, what else do you expect?”

The Other Mother, sat across from them, gasped, “She bit him,” she said, smoothing her son’s hair. The boy was completely checked out of the conversation, rubbing his face into the scarf.

‘Snotty nosed--thieving ass --bitch--’

“Barely,” Sevika said with a snort, “And she did ask for it back, multiple times,” she reminded them, before leveling a glare at the woman,“He still has it,” she said, a snarl on her lips.

“W-well-- she can’t speak so clearly there must’ve been a misunderstanding,” The Other Mother stammered, scooting away a smidge, “He likes the scarf--that isn’t a crime. And the other kids always share with him.”

Isha seethed.

She could talk--her hands could speak plenty loud. And when people couldn’t understand the simple shake of a head--she had other ways. She might not speak, but she could use her fucking teeth just fine.

Sevika’s hand squeezed Isha’s shoulders as she spoke, “Some kids want to share, others don’t. Neither you or your son should take advantage of the fact that she’s non-verbal to do whatever you want,” she gritted out, nostrils flaring, “He didn’t listen--she almost bit him. You’re lucky it didn’t escalate further.”

The teacher looked between the two, increasingly panicked, “That doesn’t excuse the fact that a student was almost harmed, “The teacher chides, “This has happened far too many times. What if it did escalate? Charges could’ve been pressed. ”

Sevika sighed, deeply exhausted, “Stealing is also a crime,” she said, her patience running thin, “Do we really want to involve the law over bullshit like this? They’re eight fucking years old. ”

“You’re right--” The Other Mother chimed in, “Let’s settle this like adults. How much is the scarf? We’ll buy you another so Billy can keep this one,” Both Isha and Sevika sent her incredulous looks as she continued, “It really helps with his self-soothing. You must understand I can't bear to make him part with it. ” she explained, rummaging through her purse for her wallet.

Sevika looked up for a moment, muttering to herself, before taking out her phone and texting for a moment. Her eyebrow arched at the response. Without another word, she raised her phone towards them.

The Other Mother squinted at the phone, before her face fell, looking a bit pale,“...Billy give back the scarf,” she muttered, shoving her wallet back in her purse and grabbing her keys.

“But Mommy I like this scarf--”

The Other Mother sent him a strained smile,“Give back the scarf,” she gritted out.

Isha got back her scarf.

Sevika zipped up her coat, pushing her beanie down around her ears, muttering about the cold. Isha petted her scarf, bumbling after them towards the truck, serene again.

-

Gentle tugs of the comb through her hair, light snips of the scissors, deft hands rubbing oils into her scalp. Mel worked the remaining gunk out of Isha’s hair patiently, the girl squirming on the stool.

Sevika stepped into the bathroom door right as she finished up. She leaned against the door, watching Mel fuss over the girl, “Dinner’s ready,” she said, remembering why she came in here, then she added, “It looks good.”

Clean curls, shortly trimmed. Bangs framing her face gently and brushing the tops of her ears. The uneven, jagged lines were smoothed out-- all traces of the gum removed.

Isha studied her appearance carefully, pinching at a strand, before nodding.

Mel hummed, pleased at the approval. She tousled Isha’s hair one last time, soft perfume wafting as she leaned down, “So pretty,” she cooed.

Isha’s nose scrunched, shaking her head.

Mel thoughtfully paused, “Beautiful?”

Another shake.

Isha didn’t like that one either--it felt strange. Made her skin crawl.

When she thought of pretty--beautiful--she thought of soft manicured hands, flowery perfume, a white scarf wrapped snugly around her, and an accented voice that never yelled no matter how much the girl fidgeted or fussed.

She wasn’t ugly--she knew that. But it didn’t feel right and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

Bright eyes met hers in the mirror, before Mel asked, “Hm…what about handsome?”

And at that--Isha’s heart hitched for a moment.

She liked that one.

Isha hesitated before nodding. Her cheeks flushing red as she sent the woman a small smile.

Mel smiled sweetly at her, starting to slowly gather the hair products cluttering the counter and putting them away.

Sevika stared at the girl, raising an eyebrow.

Isha narrowed her eyes at them, scowling as she hopped off the stool and disappeared out of the bathroom in a huff.

The old lady was so nosy.

Mel chuckled, closing the cabinets.

“What’s with her?” Sevika asked, thoroughly confused.

Mel sideled next to her, looking up through her eyelashes, “She gets it from you, y’know,” she teased, hand trailing from their shoulders before settling on her bicep, hand curling around the firm muscle. Her heels lifted, mouth ghosting the shell of their ear, “I could look at you all day. Strong jaw…pretty eyes…that cute gap in your teeth when you smile--when you bite. You’re so…” those slender fingers squeezed again before slipping down her side, stopping above her waistline where her boxers peeked out from her pants, “Handsome. It’s a little infuriating. I have to watch you work so hard, looking this good, knowing I can’t…” her voice lowered as she spoke, fingers stroking her waistline, every-so-often dipping underneath.

This woman…

A warmth flushed Sevika’s cheeks as she listened, fingers twitching as Mel not-so-subtly talked her through--well--everything. Briefly she wondered if this was for later--or if she was getting dragged to the bedroom.

But before Sevika made the decision for them, Mel stepped away. She slipped past her, a sway in her hips as she looked over her shoulder with a coy smile.

Sevika followed with an unhurried gait, a glint in her eye. -

Sharp breaths—cold sheets, that metallic smell fresh in her nose.

Isha woke up—heart beating fast—fast—faster. She crawled out of her mountain of soft, feet patting softly against the floor as she creeped out of the room and down the hall.

Isha pushed into Jinx’s room, head peeking around the corner.

Thumping music, a neon purple light filling the room. Jinx sprawled across her bed, feet kicking along to the beat as she painted her nails. On her pillow, her phone was propped up--Ekko snoring away on face-time.

At the sound of the door, Jinx looked up, flashing her a grin. Isha wiped her eyes, picking her way through the junk in the room and climbing into the bed. She sank into the giant stuffed rabbit by the wall, holding onto its chewed up arm and petting it gently.

Isha zoned out, letting the music wash over her and wash away the bad memories. Jinx glanced back, thoughtful, before she rolled over, ruffling the young girl’s hair, “You good now?”

Isha frowned, shaking her head, hands still--words lost.

“You wanna a snack?” Jinx asked instead, “It might make you feel better.”

Isha nodded and Jinx hopped to her feet, braids swinging as she shuffled to the kitchen, nodding along to her headphones. Then--she abruptly stopped.

The stove light was still on, casting a muted, orange glow in the kitchen.

Sevika stood with her back to them, cropped hair falling forward as she looked down. Slender arms slipped over her shoulder, manicured hands painted gold, reflecting the dim light softly. Mel let out a sigh, eyes closed, face tucked into the crook of their neck. Sevika held her by her waist, the pair swaying--faint murmurs kept close between as they danced to that unheard music.

It didn’t seem like they noticed her yet, lost in their own little world.

Jinx watched them for a moment, head tilting a bit before she averted her eyes. She snatched the bag of oranges on the table quick, her footsteps light as she retreated back to her room.

-

Silco wasn’t always home.

Most of the time he let Jinx tag along when he was working. She was always hanging off his desk or clinging to his chair, watching those strange people and stranger deals. Rattling mind--avidly soaking up every detail.

But on the odd chance that he left her behind, she’d get a babysitter.

That woman--three times her size, boots twice as heavy.

Sevika always had a nasty snarl on her lips. Those dark eyes, scrutinizing the young girl, before looking away. She always looked away.

Everytime Jinx was left in that penthouse, the halls sprawling, empty, and cold. Sevika would have to drag her ass up there too--bloodied, bruised, eyes glazed over, hand gnarled. She’d push through the doors, sit on the couch, turning on the T.V as she threw back a shot and stitched up her wounds. She’d watch anything--the news, medical dramas, women’s basketball, cartoons--no discernable preference for most of the noise. She’d always make food--she said it was a waste of a nice kitchen to always eat out. She’d always leave Jinx an extra plate of whatever she made in the microwave.

Jinx doubts Silco ordered her to go that far, after-all the girl was more than capable of taking care of herself. She was a genius, a bright mind, better than the rest, his student, his heir.

So she didn’t need any of it. She could work a phone and swipe a card just fine.

And she knew Sevika didn’t like her much. The poking, the constant prodding, the daily fits of clawing hands and nightly terrors that made the walls shake. She set the woman on edge--she could tell.

And yet.

There she was--without fail.

Over those years, Jinx has seen a lot of people come and go and go--and go. Her tongue heavy with copper, her eyes bloodied over red.

She doesn’t remember a time where Sevika wasn’t there.

A world without Silco--she’s had to confront everyday, every night, every dream, every memory. It was a cold, unrelenting truth that washed over her body, pulling her out to sea and not letting her break the surface for air. Only salt and grime pooled into her lungs, the taste of guilt heavy.

It was all her fault--she doesn’t feel bad at all--or did she? She wasn’t sure. How she felt about him came and went with the seasons. That man--that monster--her father--her mentor--her family. He was there when everything in her life fell apart, holding her head above water. Letting her bite the wind and lose herself in its charm.

And yet--when she needed him the most, he was gone. It was her fault, of course--but she wasn’t sure how to feel about that--about him.

But when she thought of Sevika facing the same fate, she knew with certainty--

Jinx would miss her.

She’d miss her like she missed Vi--waiting, calling, desperate for an answer and being forced to watch those bright eyes fade year after year.

Like how she missed her parents--her friend’s parents, her neighbors. One day they were there--then they weren’t.

She’d miss her like she’d miss Isha--separated after a few scant months of knowing each other. Not knowing if she had the right to call her sister--knowing the system didn’t care what they called each other.

She’d miss them like air, like a heart beating--she doesn’t know when she started to feel that way. She doesn’t know what changed.

But, she remembers one night.

The terrors came most nights, but that night she woke up shaking, drenched in sweat, and scrambling for the bathroom. Dazed, she walked the halls--pale walls, pale floors, an unending blank--white. She stopped by Silco’s door, trembling hand grasping the doorknob, knowing that tonight, no one would answer.

Jinx drifted into the living room, following the faint noise of the T.V playing. She climbed into the couch, balling up tight.

Sevika didn’t comment, moving her legs out the way to make space, eyes fixed on the screen.

Inhale--exhale--inhale--Jinx’s breaths quieted, legs no longer shaking. That heart-beating slow and slower. Only then could she process what they had been watching.

A black and white movie--one she didn’t recognize. A piano plinking in the background, an old couple swaying together in the kitchen, lost in each other’s arms. The end credits played, then the screen went dark.

Sevika stared at the dark screen for a long time, fingers drumming against the couch. Then she reached for the remote and replayed the movie. Again and again--and again. The couple met, they fought, they fell in love--and stayed. Each time they decided to stay, tears and all.

Dark eyes--unreadable. That slow, plinking piano, those tapping fingers, the mumbled dialogue on screen--a lullaby that quieted the noise.

Jinx woke up the next day--mouth dry--a blanket thrown over head.

She could smell eggs cooking.

-

A severe-faced woman, missing one-too-many teeth, was wearing a fluffy pink-striped robe and bunny slippers. She sat at the kitchen table, bouncing her baby sister in her arms--eyes bouncing between the couple. Opal was promised a nice breakfast after one--too--many impromptu date nights left her with baby-sitting Isha. She didn’t expect a show as well.

“You think we should hold off ‘till after the break?” Sevika questioned, readjusting her glasses and pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face, deep-set lines in her face, eyebags darker than usual. In front of her there were various stacks of papers and sticky notes littering the table, plates of steaming bacon, eggs, and pancakes sitting on top of the work.“We could lose momentum.”

Mel sat on the other side of the table, a sleek laptop in front of her, “We will lose momentum,” she muttered, fingers flying as she typed, her eyes scanning the screen. She only stopped on occasion to pick at her bowl of fruit, “Its the holidays, people will pull away for family, vacations--just to rest. Everything will go on hold regardless.”

“That’s why we should escalate now--” Sevika countered, reaching across the table to snag a piece of pineapple before her partner could get it, “They’re comfortable--they’re not expecting it. Now would be the perfect time keep the pressure building.”

Mel bit her thumb, brows furrowing a bit, reaching for a grape instead--batting Sevika’s hand away before they could snatch that too, “I suppose, but if we want to escalate--we need better measures to mitigate harm. I’ve reached out to a few people interested in helping with the legal side of things, but most won’t be available until after the holidays.”

Sevika frowned, rubbing her chin, troubled, “The turn around rate for the school is high--we might be working with completely new staff by then. And waiting might give them the chance to hide their trail--”

The pair went back and forth on the subject for a while--proposing different variables, cost, risks--neither quite budging on their positions.

Mel sighed, standing up with a stretch before heading into the kitchen. The faint whirring of the coffee machine was heard, the smell thick in the air as she made another cup.

Opal watched her go, snagging another piece of bacon,“Y’all always argue during breakfast?” she asked, swallowing it one bite and grabbing another piece.

Sevika frowned, a bit confused, “I agree with her, but the decision isn’t ours to make. We need to discuss it with the group at the next meeting.” she explained.

“...So why were you disagreeing with every point then? ” Opal asked, equally confused, but her attention shifted as her baby-sister farted, startling themselves awake. Her lips curled, groaning internally.

At her words--Sevika’s lips twitched, “She helps me think,” she said, like that made any fucking sense.

Opal eyed them strangely, standing and grabbing her diaper bag, “Uh-huh…” she said, then--she realized, “Ugh--gross.”

“What?”

“This is some fucked-up, foreplay, ain’t it?” Opal accused, squinting at them.

Sevika neither confirmed nor denied that.

Mel returned from the kitchen, three mugs balanced in her hands. She set each one down, before stopping in front of Sevika. A slender hand grasping their chin--dark eyes fixed up, waiting. She studied them for a moment, eyes narrowed. Then she turned their head firmly, leaning down to kiss their cheek. Only then did she go sit down, resuming her typing without another word.

Sevika picked up her coffee, sipping it, looking smug.

“...Thanks hun,” Opal said, taking a sip of her own coffee, deciding it’d be best to mind her business. Then she set the mug down, leaving to find the nearest flat surface.

-

Mel bit her lip, eyes narrowing with concentration as she moved about the kitchen. She recited the instructions under her breath, then asked, “Like this?

Sevika was close behind, hands—metal and skin—settling on her hips as she watched over her shoulders. Mel adjusted the heat for each pot, lifting one top to show them.

“Mhm,” Sevika said, eyeing it with approval. Her head dipped down, hands digging into Mel’s hips as she pressed against the woman--that loose night-gown thin, “Just like that--” she said, voice rough in her ear.

-

Inch by Inch--they guided her down—

“Mhm, just like that—”

-

“—Sevika!” Mel’s head snapped back, those hands--kneading--keeping their bodies flushed together as they wandered lower and lower, “I’m trying to focus,” she complained, eyes darting across the stovetop at all the little pots.

“I’m helping.”

“No you’re not--” Mel hissed, not buying it at all, “You’re trying to drag me back to bed.”

-

“If you want it—you gotta work for it, princess,”

Reclined back, arm thrown behind her head, Sevika flashed a crooked smile. Dark eyes fixed--watching those thighs tremble. Jerking hips--stuttering to keep pace. Bright eyes panting--pleading. Her hands clenched their shoulders tighter and tighter, desperate for release, nails breaking skin--red.

Sevika inhaled sharp, heart beating-- faster and faster.

That sweet mouth--those lips--those noises.

She couldn't get enough of her.

-

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are—“ Mel grumbled, nose in the air, “Everything has to be perfect. There isn’t time to mess around. ”

“I’m enjoying my gift.”

Mel rolled her eyes, “You’ve enjoyed it plenty,” she said, dry.

Sevika played with the edge of her night-gown, “But--”

-

“—you take it so well.”

-

Mel closed her eyes with a huff. She was more than a little hot and bothered--but. Opening her eyes, she reached for the towel, wiping her hands, “Move—I’m done,” she said, feeling them step away at once. She glanced back, smiling a little bit seeing those big, dark eyes watching--waiting. “You… can finish up here if you want to please me so badly,” she added, teasing.

Sevika’s fingers itched, watching those hips swing as she passed.

-

Neat, brown paper wrapped around a bouquet of soft white and gold. Elora fidgeted with it in her lap, that perpetual line between her brow, stark, “Is it too much?” she wonders outloud, “What if she doesn’t like it?”

A lithe hand reached towards her, fingers intertwining, “She loves flowers, she loves you—she’ll love the gift,” Lest reassures, voice low and comforting. She crossed her long legs, leaning closer to her fiance—the layers of fur draped around her shoulders easily filling the space between, “What are you really worried about, darlin’?”

Elora looked pensive, thumb tracing her fiance’s ring--a habit she soon acquired after their engagement, “It's been… so long since I’ve seen her,” she admits with a sigh, “We talk all the time, but…you can hide so much over the phone.”

Lest could understand her concern. Even when she was dating Mel, it was hard to get a good read on how she felt—and it was the main reason they’d broken up.

Trying to decipher every word—every touch. She was always so far—bright, a twinkling lovely light, untouchable. It made her own insecurities at the time that much worse—knowing that nasty woman was always in Mel’s ear. Deep down--fearing that she might be right—that she was making that bright woman so much worse.

Now she knew it wasn’t like that at all. Sometimes she wondered what they could’ve become without that interference, but that love had long-since changed. It morphed into something different, but better for their relationship long-term.

Elora raised Lest’s hand to her mouth, kissing her lightly, “Now you’re the one worrying,” she chides fondly, watching how her fiance's nose twitched, those rich eyes lost—distant.

Lest closed her eyes, long, dark lashes dusting her cheeks—caught, “We worry because we care,” she murmurs, heart fluttering like it was the first time. Again and again--Elora saw her so clearly. That soft sweeping love took her off guard each time, like the last rays of a waning light. That sun sitting low on the horizon, flooding the world with its final cry, promising to rise again. Light, gentle, warm against her skin, no matter how rough life gets.

“What a heavy burden we bear, indeed,” Elora mused, thoughtfully watching those hills roll past, then hesitating she asked, “…What do you know about her partner?”

“Oh, so you do want to know?” Lest laughed, seeing her pout. She tilted her head, mischief playing on her tongue, “What happened to giving Mel privacy? Not wanting to pry?”

That particular reveal came out of nowhere. Mel had brought it up towards the end of one of their private meetings apparently. A casual, fleeting explanation for why she was behind schedule. But, she didn’t offer any other details--other then that look she sometimes got, lost in thought. A look they hadn’t seen in a long time.

“It's different now,“ Elora insisted firmly, “We’re about to meet them. I should know what to expect.”

And she should know whether or not she’s needed to extend their trip to shake sense into her friend. It was a practical train of thought considering Mel’s upcoming schedule. It was almost a new year of new beginnings—she refused to let any ill will follow them into it.

“Sevika is…older.”

Eloras head snapped up, eyes narrowed, “How old?”

“Not that much older,“ Lest teased, painted lips curled.

“You’re having too much fun with this,” Elora sighed, shaking her head.

“Baby, I hardly ever see you get so worked up,” Lest purred, thoroughly amused, “What do you want to know? I’ll answer you, promise.”

Elora only had one question, “Are they a good person?” she asked, those dark eyes as soft as the horizon she watched.

Lest thought it over for a moment. Her youth was filled with painful, but fond memories —smelling of bitter smoke and cold winters. Hiding under the bleachers until the tardy bell rang, trading homework answers for lipgloss, climbing that old tree--stars in her eyes and a wish on her lips. Looking back, she would’ve never guessed how soon it’d come true.

Then she answered.

-

Red.

Velvet dark enough to be mistaken for black. Black and white plumes trimming the deep curve of that sweet-heart neckline, softly curling underneath her collarbone and exposed shoulders. The dress clung to her every curve, swooping low in the back and revealing her toned, slender waist. Sheer, long gloves glinted with gold, matching her dangling earrings and the delicate necklace Sevika had surprised her with that morning. Her hair was piled high on her head into a bun. Her locs shaped like little petals unfurling from a blossom, stray strands framing her face.

Mel glanced at her through the mirror as she finished applying that dark lip, “Did you need something?” she asked. On closer inspection there were the gold freckles applied to her skin. They reflected with every slight movement, that smattering of light making her glow all that brighter.

Sevika…forgot why she came into the bedroom. “You’re….wearing red,” she managed, a little dazed. She had fully expected Mel to keep her little snowflake schtick going--so it wasn’t entirely irrelevant.

“Oh am I?” Mel squinted at her, amused, “I suppose it would be a bit strange for you to see, but they are the family colors and all. My brother’s a stickler for tradition, ” she explained, tucking away her lipstick, patting away at the corners of her lips with a small cloth, "Anything else you’d like to share?”

“Can you keep this on--after the guests leave?” Sevika asked, rather distracted as she counted the gold clips scattered in her hair. Everytime she looked, there was always something new.

Mel’s head turned--she changed her usual blush--keen eyes, lips softly pursed as she thought. All signs of that flustered, frustrated woman from earlier were smoothly wiped away.

Sevika was fond of her in every way.

But there was something about Mel in her element that felt different. The composure, the attention-to-detail, the confidence--the control she had over a room, knowing they’d all be looking at her.

It scratched an itch Sevika didn’t get a chance to indulge in often.

That need to get down on her knees and--

“Sure,” Mel said, agreeing far too easily. She reached for her perfume, spritzing her cloth and dabbing lightly at her collar bone and behind her ears. An elegant finger tugging down slowly the neckline of her chest, adding perfume between the valley of her chest, “As long as you behave.”

-

Jinx leaned on the door frame, arms crossed, “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” she grumbled, looking off.

She was not pouting. She wasn’t.

Ekko smiled faintly, eyes soft, “Parties aren’t really…my thing,” he said, adjusting his grip on the plate wrapped in tinfoil.

It wasn’t a lie… but it wasn’t entirely the truth.

They had been visiting Dr. Medarda’s studio that day when she’d initially invited him to the dinner-party. However, once Jinx stepped out of the room, Dr. Medarda quietly disclosed that due to her brother’s visit there would be armed security present.

Initially, he took it as a fucked up, rich person threat to act right. But he realized--she was genuinely trying to see if he’d be comfortable with it.

He wasn’t.

It didn’t seem like Dr. Medarda was either, but she seemed…resigned.

Most people in Zaun were pretty comfortable with guns. The hunting, the shooting ranges, and the works, but--

Dark uniforms--smashed windows--the smell of copper--a steady hand going limp.

Red--staining everything. It never washed out--no matter how many wishes he made.

He couldn't stand them.

Jinx watched him, a strange expression appearing then disappearing in the blink of an eye, “Text me when you get home?” she asked, head bobbing to the side, those curled pieces of hair framing her face like flowering vines.

Ekko nodded, glancing at his watch to check the time.

“Oh--Ekko?”

“Hm?”

Jinx pointed up, crooked finger wagging a bit.

Ekko followed her direction, spotting green and red tapped hastily to the top of the doorframe--mistletoe.

That wasn’t there--

Before he could process it, Jinx leaned over, quick. Nubby fingers squeezed his shoulder, heels lifting as she kissed him on the cheek, “Merry Christmas, rabbit,” she whispered with a giggle--pulling away and disappearing behind the shut door.

Ekko blinked, a bit dazed.

Then--a slow creeping flush heated his body all at once.

-

Sevika adjusted the dupatta draped around her shoulders to the left, fabric falling in waves over her prosthetic arm. She watched the shiny cars pull into the driveway one after the other, dark tinted windows a nostalgic sight, “What’s your brother like?” she asked.

Dark suits climbed out of the cars in waves. She watched how their mouths moved--imagined the barking orders, the stations positioned around the home, the eyes trained on their every move.

Mel mulled it over, finger curled over her mouth, “He was always my Mother’s favorite, but he isn’t…spoiled,” she decides, eyes distant, “He’s matured a lot over the years, but he’s a bit like…”

Her eyes trailed off to the dining room table, gaze landing on the mouthy teenager already sneaking bites of the desserts.

Sevika blinked, hard, “Jinx?” she asked, disbelieving.

-

“Kino--” Mel wheezed, holiday cheer long gone. She scowled as her brother squeezed her tighter, trapping her in his arms. She pushed at his face, complaining, “Let go-- you’ll ruin my makeup--”

“I can’t hug my baby-sister now?” Kino asked, aghast. He was unfazed by her efforts, strong arms lifting her up.The man was tall, spindly even, but he carried her with ease. He wore an immaculately tailored, burgundy suit. This was paired with a fresh fade, cornrows, and gold rings glinting-- the center of his bottom lip painted to match.

“I’m not a baby--put me down,” Mel bit out, yelping as her heels left the ground.

“Okay, okay,” Kino relented, setting her down.

Mel huffed, readjusting her dress before she broke out into a wide smile, rushing past him. She greeted her sister-in-law excitedly, helping her sit down on the couch as she cradled her stomach. Shug followed the women with big, curious eyes.

Nearby, her nephews did what kids normally did. A lanky, preteen's eyes fixed on his phone as he texted. A mouthy eight year old argued with Isha over the shiny switches he pulled out of his bag.

Kino redirected his attention to Mel’s partner, giving them a once over. That sparkling demeanor shifting--ever so slightly, “Nice to meet you,” he said, evenly. He extended a hand, gold canines flashing.

Sevika nodded in return, shaking it firm.

Her arm itched.

-

A calloused hand reached towards that blinking, distant light.

Sevika gasped for breath, that anesthesia didn’t do shit for the pain. Grasping hands reached for her--then the shimmer. Shouting voices filled her ears as they struggled to hold her back and tie her back down for the operation.

That all consuming pain, a throttling heat--arm practically dead weight at this point. She drooled around the gag, bracing herself for the bite of the surgeon’s knife.

-

Mel handed off the bouquet to Sevika, gathering her friends into a hug, “How was the plane ride?”

“It was fine—it was fine,” Elora assured, with a breathy laugh, “Boring as usually, though the snacks were quite interesting—“

Never one for small talk, Lest’s eyes darted around the home's interior, “Didn’t I say you could throw out all this junk?” she questioned.

The exterior was nearly unrecognizable from her childhood. The crumbling walls and faded colors painted fresh, warm, and bright, but the interior…It was—dizzying how much was the same.

“This junk— has charm,” Mel insisted, loftily, arching her eyebrow as she pulled away, “If you want to get rid of it, you’ll have to come and do it yourself I’m afraid.”

“Horrifying concept,” Lest drawled—it was an old aversion from childhood. She feared if she threw her grandmother's stuff away—that old bat would come back to life to scold her for ‘not having taste’.

And yet, she couldn’t help but smile.

Nana always favored Mel during visits. The woman couldn’t wrap her head around anything in regards to their relationship or Lest’s gender, but she adored Mel regardless. Always asking for her even after they had broken up and parted ways. Mel always did the same—calling her often, dotting after the old woman, and spoiling her rotten.

Some things never change.

“—Now let me see your ring,” Mel said with a determined glint in her eye.

Elora blushed, shy all at once as her friend fawned over that glimmering, silver band, “You’ve already seen pictures—”

Mel scoffed at that, turning her hand over, “Pictures hardly compare to the real thing,” she said, squinting at it, “Have you all decided when you want your portrait painted ? What about the fittings—did you get a chance to meet with my tailor?“

As those two fussed over each other —Lest followed Sevika down the hall, heels notably silent on the floors.

“You were staring at her hand,” Lest airly notes with a sidelong glance, “I could… tell you her size if you want?”

“It’s too early for that,” Sevika said, eyes pointedly staring ahead, bouquet gently nestled in the crux of her arm as they entered the kitchen, “And you’re far too nosy--like usual.”

It's funny…Their paths often crossed, yet you could count the amount of conversation’s they’ve had on one hand.

Lest tilted her head, amused, “It comes with the job, I’m afraid,” she admits, letting their irritation roll off of her without batting an eye, “But if you want to know…she’s kept the same mood board for wedding rings since college. And she most likely has a jeweler on call already--it's best to ask since she’s so particular about it,” she listed off the details, endlessly fascinated at the fact that the other woman hadn’t left the room yet. Silent, but listening all the same. “Jayce went and got her some fancy rock from a lab with a silver band. Kino nearly fell out, but Mel never complained. Though…I doubt she’d let it happen again.”

That silence—then, “Who the hell is Jayce?” Sevika asked with a frown, idly arranging the flowers in a vase.

“...Her ex-fiancé, “ Lest explained, eyeing her strangely, “Didn’t she tell you?”

Sevika snorted, “She did, but why would I remember his name?”

Lest laughed, hand covering her mouth, “You never change, do you?”

-

A gold mask—a snarling wolf.

A sliver of a mouth could be seen, the center of the bottom lip painted gold. Dark eyes surveyed the trembling figures kneeling before them, disgusted. They took the gun from their holster, clicking the safety off before raising it. The barrel of the gun pressing into skin, kissing the sweat and tears as they let out a strangled cry.

“An example will have to be made—“

1–shot rang out—red.

They watched the body hit the ground, before redirecting their gaze to those watching the execution, “Mistakes will not be tolerated.”

Bright—violet eyes watched it all. Jinx’s head was tucked against Silco’s shoulder. She dozed off, counting each shot.

—2

—3

—4

-

And after they had all left, one final shot had rang out.

—5

-

Water poured from the faucet. Jinx ran her hands under it, moving to splash her face, but she stopped remembering her make-up.

“Shit,” she glared at the mirror, chewing on her lip. Feet tapping--moving, she started pacing the bathroom instead, spiraling.

It could be another hallucination—a strange memory that was out of place. Her imagination working overtime because life had been far too quiet for too long.

But—what if it wasn’t?

Sometimes her memory had holes. Other times—it could be startlingly clear. Some people, some places, always stuck with her no matter what and—

Jinx heard Mel’s brother laugh from the living room, feeling unsteady again.

She remembers that laugh.

She remembers them. The heavy boots of the woman in red. That snarling wolf never looked at her, but the one behind her—him—he always smiled her way.

-

Steaming plates piled high with food, the clinking of glasses, laughter, and the warm crackling of the fireplace.

Jinx peered into the dining room, uncertain.

Sevika stopped beside her, raising an eyebrow, “What's wrong?” she asked, under her breath.

Jinx frowned, fingers twiddling, “Nothings wrong…”

And nothing was wrong.

Everything was fine. It was in the past right?

Maybe Mel already knew. Even if she didn’t, Jinx didn’t have any right to bring up any of that ugliness now. This home--bright and lovely, she couldn’t stand the thought of making it filthy. So why couldn’t she let it go? Why was her chest tight--why was it harder to breathe--

He didn’t do anything to her--so why was she so--why was she--shaking. Scared. Like she was eight years old again.

A bandaged hand settled on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

Jinx looked up startled. Looking around she realized she was in a room, sitting on a too-soft bed. Vi sat next to her, brows furrowed before she passed her a cold bottle of water.

Jinx lost time again.

Across the dimly lit room, Sevika stood by the door studying her carefully. That silent question filling the space between them.

Jinx fumbled with the cap of the water-bottle, taking a gulp, before she finally blurted out that mess of thoughts.

-

Sevika inhaled then exhaled, rubbing her eyes. Slowly but surely some pieces were settling into place.

She’d be lying if she said she never thought Mel’s family was odd, but she thought it was the wealth.

And the Medarda’s weren’t just wealthy--they were wealth personified.

Their name plastered on every building--hands dipped into every possible venture. From international shipping, to pharmaceuticals, to education, to manufacturing. A hand that extends and takes hands--and hands--and hands in turn.

Sevika never would’ve guessed one of those ventures was Silco. She was his right hand in every aspect, but certain investors were kept private by request. And the investor that helped them go international was different then the rest.

When they called--he had no choice but to answer.

Sevika kept most of her unkind thoughts about Mel’s Mother to herself most days. She knew better than most how it felt to grieve a person and the relationship you never got to have. But, perhaps she was so focused on those two, she never gave any thought to how the family worked as a whole.

Why send one child away and not the other?

Over the years, Sevika worked with many different types of people who indulged in many questionable activities. Not everyone broke the law in the same way. And the wealthy had more cards to choose from them most. They could afford to pick and choose who to shield from the violence and who to fold.

Ambessa Medarda seemed like the type.

A wolf both in name and in ruthless efficiency. Clawing her family name from the depths of obscurity, rocketing them into a league of their own. And apparently, she enjoyed success in both her legal and illegal ventures.

One child to carry on the legacy for each world.

And Sevika was certain Mel knew nothing about it.

Every conversation they did have about Sevika’s past was uncomfortable. Like poking a raw nerve, never quite knowing if it’d be too much. Her eyes wide, blinking with hurt with every detail--as if she’d never would’ve had to consider those choices at all.

-

“Was that too much for you?” Sevika asked, thumb brushing over her cheek, watching those hurt eyes blinking back tears.

Tears for them.

Mel leaned into their hand,“You lived through it,” she murmured, lips pressing into their palm, “I should be asking you that. You don’t need to hold back. I want know you--all of you.”

-

Sevika and Mel were learning each other gently and slowly. But Sevika knew enough about her to understand what she needed to do now.

Plenty of people have had a hand in pushing--guiding --coveting -- and controlling Mel. People who decided what her life should look like, what she could know, see, and become.

Sevika couldn’t stand the thought of becoming a part of that long line of choices being made on her behalf.

So she waited. Until the plates were put away, tinfoil wrapped tight around the platters. Until the kids dozed off on the odd chair or couch. A christmas cartoon playing while the adults pulled out more wine. Until her friends had left out for their hotel, leaving only family behind. Until Mel had finally stepped away, disappearing into the kitchen to begin cleaning up.

Back facing them, Mel peeled off her long gloves, searching through the drawer, “Dinner was lovely like always,” she said, noticing their approach. A smile on her lips as she pulled out rubber gloves, turning on the hot water, “Thank you--”

Sevika stepped behind her, close, “You don’t have to thank me,” she said. She wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

Mel hummed, content. Her head tipped back against their shoulder, “But you’re what I’m most thankful for?” she teased, bright eyes beaming as she looked back at them. Then she faltered, brows scrunching, “What's wrong?”

Sevika’s heart clenched.

She leaned down, speaking low into her ear.

Mel listened to her intently. With each second her eyes wavering--pained-- as realization slowly setting in at her words.

It was a hard truth to swallow, but she’d drink it all the same.

-

Lost in the garden and covered in filth, the siblings were quite a sight.

Mel sniffled, shivering in the cold night air. She muttered to herself--that same wish--as she curled up tight in her brother’s arms.

Kino rocked her gently, “Do you know what I wished for?” he asked, staring up at that endless sky.

“...No,” Mel said, looking up.

“I…” Kino swallowed, closing his eyes as he let out a shaky breath. Words stuck between his heart and his throat.

Mel blinked, head tilting, confused, “Kino?” Little hands reached up, patting his face and smearing dirt everywhere as she shooed away the tears, “What’s wrong?”

Kino squeezed his sister tighter.

-

Mel Medarda has walked this path not quite knowing where she was going.

She tugged that long, unending string, hoping that in the end, there had to be something else past the confusion, hurt, and pain.

And now she stood before her brother, not knowing what she wanted at all. Not knowing if the conversation would stop the hurt or make it worse.

Mel closed the door to the studio behind her with a sigh, “Kino we need to talk,” she said, hands folded behind her back.

“But we are talking?” Kino joked, sitting down on the lone stool, leg settling across his lap and bouncing.

“--About the family business,” Mel specified, deeply exhausted already, “Or rather, the parts of it that haven’t been disclosed to me.”

Kino Medarda

Bright--shining--strong--precious.

The heir to the Medarda fortune and all that entitled.

Good and Bad.

Kino rubbed his beard, looking off to the side. He could’ve easily played dumb, pretended like he didn’t know, but he didn’t, “...You know?” he asked with a frown, “When did you find out?”

“Well, after what--? Only thirty or so years of living I just found out, ” Mel answered, bitterness edging into her tone as her eyes narrowed, “I’ve never made the assumption that our family’s wealth or any wealth was acquired through moral means,” she paced the room, that surge of unknown emotions becoming clearer with each word.

She stopped in front of him, eyes searching, frustration peaking as he avoided her gaze. She swallowed thickly, then continued, “It was one of the main reasons I chose to distance myself from our legacy, but this…this is different,” she let out a shaky exhale.

That sickness, that uncertainty, peeled back only to reveal an ugly shame, “I have people in my life I care for immensely. People who have lived with that type of violence since birth. Who carry those wounds everyday and are in desperate need of safety--of peace. How am I supposed to properly protect them from encountering that violence further if I'm not even aware of my own family’s affiliation? How… can I make any informed decisions if I am constantly treated like a child who cannot know any better.”

Kino’s face fell and he stood. He walked towards her, uncertain, “Mel, I would…never put you or anyone you love in harm's way,” he reassured, inhaling sharp, “You know that. You know me. This…” he waved his hand, shaking his head, “It doesn’t have to affect you. You don’t have to think of it at all. ”

Mel tensed at that, a slow moving realization building in her at those words. “But it does affect me,” she countered, frowning, “It has shaped our entire lives, whether I have known about it or not,”

Every decision-- every meeting--every so called family friend--every investment was stained red. Her hands smeared across the canvas of her life--unthinking--unknowing, like a child playing in paints not knowing it was made of lead.

“Even if I was shielded from the worst, I did not escape hardship.I thought she--” Mel choked up, blinking rapidly, “I thought Mom hated me for years and she never told me otherwise.”

She understood why she shielded her from the worst of it as a child. She understood the impacts that could’ve had--bright violet eyes--seething. But even as an adult?

She was old enough to swipe the card, but not know how the money was made? Old enough to shoulder the legacy, but not know the full cost?

It was so stupid.

Mel stilled, a tense silence settling between them, “She didn’t tell me anything…” she muttered under her breath, before those bright eyes flew up, striking, “And you’re doing the same now. If you can’t tell me details fine--but nothing? No warnings? Only pushing and pushing me away--to protect me I presume, but--”

Mel wiped her face, emotions bubbling over. Those memories, those words. It was as if her mother’s hands--striking, gentle, all-too-distant were falling over her all at once.

One thought was clear in the mess.

After all that effort to shield her from the worse--was she protected?

Was she better for it?

She had walked this path--surrounded by love, yet terribly lonely.

She was never alone, yet when she fell--she never asked for help. All those bright faces in her life, yet her heart became closed off with each passing year. Cloudy thoughts--a venomous tongue--marring every friend, lover, passing acquaintance, and kind stranger with an unrelenting suspicion.

A cycle of wondering why she hurt, why no one knew she was hurting, not wanting anyone to know she was hurting at all. Not even fully grasping how much blood she was truely leaking.

She doesn’t know when it began or if it even ended. It felt like a seamless, indisputable part of the fabric of her life. Clumping threads that could never be unraveled that stopped her lungs from breathing and her heart from beating even during the happiest of times.

Knowing this--changed everything, yet nothing at all.

She wasn’t quite yet at the end of that string-- still uncertain, unsteady on her feet. But she finally knew what she had wanted from this conversation. What she wanted to know--desperately.

“Kino…” Mel whispered, tears falling freely down her face, “How long have you been involved in this…Did you even get a choice in the matter?”

How long have you been hurting?

Kino stiffened, face closing off as he quietly spoke, “Our family, our legacy, it's my burden to bear now.” he said, dark eyes unwavering, “If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been you.”

Mel Medarda.

Bright, shining, soft, precious.

She’d always be his baby sister.

He’d shoulder it all--again and again for her.

Mel casted a weary glance upwards--a curse, a prayer, a plea silent on her lips. She looked at him--truly looked at him.

He was older, wearier, but was he happy?

“I don’t care for our family’s legacy nor our Mother’s sacrifices. Not if this is what it leaves us with, “ Mel admitted, crossing her arms and holding herself tight, “Sacrifices…secrets. That legacy left behind adults who are scared to cry. Who struggle to even look at each other for a simple discussion,” she sighed, hand raising and squeezing his shoulder, gentle, “Our mother is dead--we are not. The way she chose to carry on with her life…Her decisions, her sacrifices for ‘greatness’--they lie with her. There is nothing more we could possibly acquire, so why must we bury ourselves in that same grave?”

Kino was silent for a long time.

“...It’s not that easy,” he finally said with a dowcasted gaze, “Maybe I could’ve walked away if I was younger--a better man, but this is my life,” There was a finality in his tone, a resignation, that dragged on each word heavy as he continued, “This has been my life, my decisions, my legacy for a long time and I will bear it until the end. I’ve made far too many enemies and allies for it to change now. I’d give you the world if you asked for it, but this--this-- ”

Some things don’t change.

“It’s your legacy now, but you’re a husband--a father,” Mel’s chin raised, a stubborn glint in her eye, “Our family is growing and one day we will be gone and they will have to bear what remains. It won’t be easy, but if something doesn’t change now, when will it?”

-

It was a long, painful while before that conversation ended.

Kino stepped onto the porch, an ornate, black and gold box in hand. He let out a sigh, trying to shake the deja vu. It was like his Mom raised from her grave to chew his ass out. Honestly, the fact that Mel never never finished Law-School floored him to this day.

They were at an impasse of some sorts. Which meant that Mel had let him off the hook for now so she could let Shug run around outside.

He sighed again, hand rubbing down his face. His eyes fell on Sevika sitting on the front steps, methodically sipping a beer while she stared at that sinking sunset.

Kino sat down next to them, sending her a sidelong glance, “You told her.” he said.

Sevika inclined her head, “I did.”

Kino barked out a bitter laugh, eyes holding no humor, before he begrudgingly handed over the box.

Sevika accepted it with a raised eyebrow. She then opened it, appraising the row of cigars packed into the container. The dangerously expensive shit.

The last time she smoked one of these, it was moments before Silco’s lawyer told her she was going to take custody of the girls, “Is this a bribe?” she asked, suspicious.

“It's your gift,” Kino said, dry.

“It’d be a nice bribe,” Sevika suggests, pulling out her lighter in one swift motion. She lit two cigars, handing one over without another word.

Kino eyed it for a moment then he accepted it. Inhaling deep, he let the smoke burn. A silence pooled between them, “...Would you have ever retired willingly if Silco wasn’t offed?” he eventually asked.

Dark eyes regarded him for a moment, “...I had no reason to at the time,” she admits, eyes returning to the horizon.

No family or friends.

Most of them scattered ash or far, far from home. That business--bloody, careless, sometimes cruel-- was all she had. So she’d given it her all. Life, limb-- all dangling in the teeth of perpetual uncertainty.

“And if you did have a reason?”

Sevika inhaled that bitter smoke, air far too cold.

-

Dishes put away. Trash cleared. Children and pets soundly asleep.

Sevika clocked out for the night.

Returning to the bedroom, she wondered.

Mel Medarda was a woman of many moods and faces. On occasion, she’d let Sevika peer beyond the surface. And today was a lot of good, bad, and uncertain, so she wasn’t sure what she’d get.

Stepping into the dimly lit room, she was greeted by a woman in red.

“You’re still dressed,” Sevika said, closing and locking the door behind. She unwrapped the dupatta from around her shoulders, laying it down on a nearby chair.

“You asked,” Mel explains, like that’s all she had to do.

Sevika pulled off her blouse, leaving herself in slacks and a tank-top, “I didn’t think you’d still be in the mood after…” she trailed off as she unbuttoned her slacks, but made no move to take them off, a bit lost in thought.

Mel squinted, an intense look that made their stomach tight with anticipation as a slender finger beckoned them closer.

Sevika followed her instructions, approaching the bed. However, instead of sitting down beside them, she kneeled on the ground with a hefty sigh. They wrapped their arms around her hips as they settled between her legs, head burying in her lap-- drinking in soft velvet and perfume.

Mel's eyes widened--struck--before she smiled, helpless at the sight. She ran her hand through their hair, “...You’ve worked so hard to make today go well,” she murmured, feeling them relax, weight settling on her slowly, “Everyday I see how much you do to keep us safe--to keep us happy. I wouldn’t let anything or anyone jeopardize that,” she promised.

“It's nothing I can’t handle,” Sevika said, a haze of exhaustion settling over her all at once.

If it goes to shit--if whatever mess Kino was involved in blew up in his face, she’s sure she’d be able to at least keep them out the fire. She’s done it before, she could do it again and again--and again.

“You won’t be handling it,” Mel said, tone leaving no room for arguing,“If we cannot ensure your family’s physical, emotional, and legal safety, I won’t be tolerating any more of his visits here,” she explained, nails easing against their scalp, working that remaining tension out with each stroke.

“He’s your family, you don’t--”

“This town has experienced more than enough violence—” Mel gently cut her off, resolute as she spoke, “We can call, we can go elsewhere, but if none of my conditions are met, he cannot come here, ” she said.

As if ‘going elsewhere’ was as easy as breathing air. For anyone else it would’ve been, but for Mel it wasn’t. And yet, she promised it--every word painstakingly heartfelt.

Mel leaned down, curling around them. Their vision was filled with black, white, and red. That sweet perfume cradling her gently as she spoke, “My family has done a lot of wrong, yet I cannot stop myself from loving them. I doubt I ever will. But,” she swept away those stray hairs from their face, kissing her forehead, “I’d never sacrifice one love for another,” she shared, bright eyes lost in dark--heart beating faster and faster, “I’d never put you--your peace of mind, your family, or your home-- at risk. Not after all the kindness you’ve extended to me. You deserve that much.”

And at that--Sevika couldn’t help but question if she truly did.

-

Soft sighs, parting lips, pearly teeth that flashed as her head fell back with a laugh. Red velvet pushed up past her thighs, matching lace tucked between that she pulled aside. She leaned in for a taste.

Hands coaxing her squirming body closer to the edge--closer to edge of the bed--

Hands--two of them.

Calloused, scarred, flesh, and covered in red.

Staining her lovely skin and making those bright, billowing marks bleed.

Sevika woke with a start, bed shaking. Her heart was caught in her throat as she breathed sharply, trying to calm down.

Next to her, Mel stirred easily at the noise, “...’vika?” she rasped, eyes blearily trying to open.

Sevika settled back down, leaning over, speaking low, coaxing.

Mel looked unconvinced, brow furrowing as she tried to orient herself.

Hesitating, Sevika wrapped an arm around her waist, burying their nose in her shoulder. She breathed her in deep--entirely indulgent even as her heart ached.

Only then did Mel relax, slipping back asleep, content in her lover’s embrace.

-

Metal clanking--Isha tapped Sevika’s prosthetic arm repeatedly, urgently trying to get her attention.

“Yeah, yeah I hear you,” Sevika said, waving her off, “I’m watching.”

Isha nodded excitedly.

Bundled up, she hobbled back into the snow. She raised her hands high to her imaginary audience of millions, before she flung herself backwards. She did that little flip thing Jinx had shown her, although Isha always lost balance on her way down. So it was more so a controlled fall that always left her covered in snow.

Sevika clapped slowly, biting back a laugh as Isha bowed to her audience. Then she ran off over the hills towards where Jinx and Ekko were piling up giant heaps of snow--building a fortress it seems.

Mel had been watching them from the doorway, she stepped outside, giggling a bit.

“What—?” Sevika asked, suspicious as she scratched Shug behind the ears, the sleeping dog cozied up in her lap, a blanket pulled over them. She rocked in the chair slowly, careful not to disturb them.

“Nothing, nothing,” Mel hummed, eyes impossibly fond as she leaned down, arms wrapping around the back of their shoulders as she kissed their cheek.

Sevika turned her head when she stopped, looking back expectantly, “We should head out before all the motels fill up. ”

An unending sky crested those rolling hills, leaving behind a shine as the snow only piled higher.

“Motel?” Mel questioned, kissing her cheek again, then the tip of her nose.

“Everytime it snows this bad, the heat cuts in our building,” Sevika explained, catching her off guard and finally stealing a kiss on the mouth. That winter frost biting her still warm lips. Mel tried to deepen it, despite the awkward angle, but Sevika cheekily turned away, quick, “It’s either a motel, or I kill our landlord,” she offhandedly, adds.

“Let’s not do that,” Mel muttered, pouting a bit from the betrayal, “Why not stay here another night?” she suggested, face rubbing into the nape of their neck.

“I don’t hate you enough to put you through that,” Sevika said, eyes following those brats trampling through the snow, “They’re not as cute when they’re cranky, hungry, and restless.”

“But you think it's cute when I’m like that?”

“I do,” Sevika admitted with a creeping smile, “That’s different,”

“Uh-huh,” Mel rolled her eyes, “I’ll go get the guest rooms ready,” she said, slipping away and back into the house.

-

Isha set down her hand of cards with a toothy grin.

Jinx cackled, arms shooting up--victorious.

Mel sighed, setting down her cards in defeat. She eyed the two hands--mulling over the game in question.

“A deals a deal—” Jinx said, ruffling Isha’s hair as she beamed.

“Were you cheating—?” Mel asked out loud. Although it was more of a deduction--all those innocuous moments throughout the game piecing together in her mind to create one, damning picture.

Isha arched an eyebrow right back—as if to say, “Does it matter?”

“Alright,” Mel acquiesced, ultimately impressed by the swindle, “I’ll send the funds over later today.”

“And—? Jinx said, with a taunting look.

“Yes, that too,“ Mel agreed, shaking her head with a slow chuckle.

Right on time—Sevika rounded the corner from the kitchen.

“‘Sevika?” Mel sweetly called out, “ ‘vika-baby, can you help me light the fire? I’m cold.”

At those words, Sevika immediately ran into the doorframe with a thud. She cursed, clutching her forehead.

“Oooh…” Both Jinx and Isha hissed, wincing. Looking at each other for a moment, they decided to scatter—cards fluttering uselessly behind, feet stomping up the stairs as they ran towards the guest rooms.

Mel’s eyes widened and she shot up, rushing over.

Sevika rapidly blinked, dazed, “What… did you call me?”

“Do you hate pet names that much?” Mel asked, fingers skimming the knot on the side of their head, looking her over.

“I…” Sevika frowned, averting her gaze, “ I don’t care.”

Mel looked at her strangely, smoothing her forehead, “Love—“ she whispered, words slow, deliberate as she cradled their face, “Let’s lie down for a moment. I’ll light the fire for us.”

- Fire--flickering red and warm.

Mel winced a bit, climbing onto the couch, hips still sore.

“Was I too rough yesterday?” Sevika asked with a frown, hand steadying her waist as they eased her down on top of them.

“You were perfect,” Mel said, face snuggling into her chest--looking quite pleased to have her favorite pillows back. Her arms slipped around their waist, legs tangled together, “You’ve been fretting all morning, I’m fine.”

Seika sighed, thumb rubbing the top of her head, the silk scarf smooth, “I saw the bruises…” she said, eyebrows furrowed.

Those dark, purpling bruises sprawled across her body--made her fingers itch for more the first time she caught sight of them. But, it also made her…sick. Thoughts murky and disgusted--even though logically she knew they both wanted it.

“Mhm…” Mel smiled a bit at the reminder, “Have you seen your back?”

Broad, steady shoulders streaked with red.

“That’s--” Sevika’s mind stalled a bit, “That’s different.”

“Is it now?”

“It is,” Sevika insisted, “I’ve actually--” hands--two of them, calloused, scarred, flesh, and covered in red, “I should’ve controlled myself. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

Mel’s head raised, chin settling between the valley of her chest. Her big, thoughtful eyes studied her for a moment, “You did control yourself,” she said, evenly, “I wasn’t scared of getting hurt at all. I trust you.”

“...You shouldn’t,” Sevika said, smoothing the line between her brow, “I’m not a good person.”

Mel’s eye’s softened, lips thin, “And what type of person do you think you are?”

Draped across the older woman, she listened. Fire crackling—the distant sounds of Jinx and Isha thumping around upstairs. Shug and Majesty curled up in the arm chair, sleeping.

Mel listened as Sevika quietly spoke, dark eyes weary.

-

“I was angry—all the time.”

-

Low simmering--the feeling never went away.

Sevika understood hate at an early age.

Standing over her dad, past out in the hall, stinking of alcohol and food--knowing the pantry was empty. She didn’t bother to cry about it anymore, finding the old man’s wallet--swiping a few dollars before she stumbled outside into the cold.

-

“I didn’t dream of finding a nice, ok-paying job. I didn’t care if I was good--or useful to my community. All of that felt pointless.” -

Easy money--?

Nothing about this shit was easy.

Broken bones--constant late drop offs, no breaks--pigs hunting them for sport even when they weren’t dealing. She’s had to attend far too many funerals over the years--each one quieter then the next.

Sevika handled it all as it came--again and again. Only the neat roll of cash, she counted at the end of every day keeping her going. It was far more than any other job in this shit hole.

Enough for the bills--enough for the vices.

So when that scrawny, asshat at the bar offered her another job-- a better job, she took it.

Consequences be damned.

-

“I saw good people eat shit every-fucking day. No one listened to goodness--no one cared, so why should I? I was just chasing that rush--that feeling--"

That fire--she let it burn her life to a crisp for a chance to feel its warmth. Her heart beating faster and faster--like she could finally fucking breathe.

But now that she was on the other side of the fire and didn’t know what to do with her charred remains.

“I didn’t stop because I wanted to--I stopped because I didn’t have a choice,” Sevika said, harshly, “That doesn’t make me a good person. It only means I’m good at following orders. If I was good, I would’ve did something productive with that time--that money,” she exhaled, eyes shutting, “Now I have to watch Jinx and Isha grow up in this shit-hole, knowing I could’ve done something, anything to make it better, but I didn’t.”

Sevika didn’t have time for regrets--to seek forgiveness, but she does wonder why out of everyone who had passed through this town--why did she survive?

She never did anyone any good. Yet she was still standing. Stuck. That unchanging, unending pile of anger. Watching everything around her fall apart for years while she did fuck all.

Sevika swallowed thickly, “I don’t understand what you see in me,” she admits.

Mel reached out, contemplative,“...I can show you.” she said, her finger brushing away the wetness from their cheek.

-

Mel switched on the lights to her studio. She had a determined glint in her eye as she moved throughout the space, pulling out covered canvases one by one. She propped each one up, yanking the plastic covers off with a methodical quickness.

Sevika had only seen her sketches before. The other woman was rather private about her process, so they didn’t know what to expect.

So this…

Sevika stepped forward without thinking--eyes skating across the room, not knowing where to land, where to linger.

“What do you think?” Mel asked, pony-tail flicking as she turned her head.

Color—lines deep, swirling, and bright—those fluttering shapes filling the canvas, leaving no empty space. Idyllic faces, hands, shapes pressing against the canvas, teeming to burst.

Sevika easily recognized the figures —the people—the places.

“You painted…Zaun?”

Jinx. Blue braids fluttered behind her like wings as she smiled at the viewer. Isha perched on her shoulders, a toothy grin stained a vibrant gold.

Staggering, crumbling pre-war buildings --all glitz, grime, and gold. A flickering street-lamp and little foot-prints left behind in the snow. Rolling hills of negative space colliding with color. The sun -- a pearl placed in the teeth of the sky. Plunging earth and distant lights. Those stars, peeking silver pins stuck the fabric of the sky. A wave of broken bottles shuddering upwards, one-thousand wishes breaking the unending horizon apart with their cries.

-

‘WELCOME TO THE HISTORIC CITY OF ZAUN’

-

One canvas painstakingly recreated that wooden sign. Soft, detailed, brushwork that was splattered with all too familiar spray paint. Spiraling colors--signatures--so many signatures sprawled across the canvas, until you couldn’t help but get lost in all the voices--the names.

That bridge—clean charcoal lines, white space-- flowers smearing across the architecture, bright pastels bleeding down.

And—her.

Sevika stared up at the largest painting—breath caught.

She almost didn’t recognize herself.

Flurries drifted down, kissing the slope of her face. The biting cold sending spritz of colors down, blending seamlessly with the veins stark in her skin.

Dark hair, peppered with grey, a little too long. Dark eyes lost, dark circles digging into her skin deep. Blackened, split lips, soft scars ghosting the arch of her nose.

Her expression--some would say she was resigned. Resigned to the cold--uncaring of the color that flooded her life.

Others would say she looked--relieved.

As if she lifted the world and still managed to stand under its weight.

And it wasn’t the only one.

Mel pulled out more canvases--all of them were of her.

Sevika eating, fingers dripping with fruit, stained pink. Sevika smiling--gapped teeth snarling over a hand of cards. Sevika stretched out on the couch, fast asleep, a cat pawing at her chest. Sevika carrying two girls over her shoulders, covered head to toe in snow. Sevika tipping back a beer bottle--drinking every nasty drop.

Sevika bloodied. Sevika bruised. Sevika beaming.

Sevika…never knew she could look like that. She fell silent, unable to ignore that sound rattling in her chest.

“I don’t believe you were only ever made of only anger, ” Mel quietly said, watching them carefully like she always did, “You’ve experienced so much, it’d be impossible to reduce it all to that,” she continued, approaching that largest painting, fingers dancing across the canvas, “A lot has changed, a lot hasn’t. But, I don’t think change is something that definitively happens, once or twice. I think it's constant. Whether you intend to or not, it still happens.”

Mel sighed, hands pausing to trace the line of dark hair, “I didn’t start my treatment because I wanted to get better,” she admits with a low, bitter laugh, “I was pretty much strong armed into it all--the therapy, the dog, the medical leave. I didn’t want to get better. I didn’t want anything at all at that point. I was following the advice until I could convince everyone to finally leave me alone. Even this exhibition…” she struggled for a moment, words slowing, “I wanted it to be my last before I retired early and found somewhere else to hide. Somewhere too far for visits, too inconvenient for calls. So I could finally stop being such a burden on everyone in my life. So they could move on while I--”

Quietly disappeared.

Not quite death—but courting it in a way. Aching for everything to just stop.

Sevika let the weight of her words settle over the conversation, heart shuddering,“…What changed?”

Or rather--she was hopeful that something changed.

Mel sent her a side-long glance, “If I had met you any sooner in my life, I would’ve thrown you out of my house,” she said, plainly, “But I didn’t and I wasn’t quite sure why. Our meetings were…different. Always different then the monotony I was accustomed to, ” her hand drew back from the canvas, “It was as if I had to relearn myself--my emotions, my body, my memories, my dreams. It was like meeting a stranger everytime and--”

Soft footsteps approached Mel, an arm sliding around her waist, a head settling against her shoulder.

“I couldn’t help but want to learn more about her--more about you,” Mel said, choking up a bit, “I was so stuck on those terrible months--years, I didn’t realize I wasn’t there anymore. Everything was different, but I was so close to the mess I couldn’t see the full picture. My body, my life, my friends were all breathing--moving--changing. And I could finally see it all. I wanted to see everything.”

Mel reached for the hand around her waist, slender fingers squeezing tight, “I was already putting in the work. My life is …better than before. I just needed help learning how to live it. ”

Better.

Not good, not bad, but better.

“Your life is different now—” Mel said, words certain as their bodies swayed together, “--whether it was by choice or not. If you’re not satisfied with it… if you want something different, if you want to learn about the woman that I love--I’ll be there to help. You don’t have to figure it out alone anymore.”

Sevika let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

-

Heels clicked-- a door slamming behind.

Mel left her Mother’s office, a bitter storm that scorched the halls, employees jerking out of her way. She rummaged through her purse, blinking back tears as her heart ached.

Exiting the building, she stumbled, heels slipping on the ice, but she didn’t fall.

Not yet.

A hand caught her by her waist, body yanked into a firm side, “Watch it--” the stranger said, voice gruff.

Mel pulled away, shame heating her face, “Apologies--” she muttered, ducking her head as she rushed away. She finally found her phone, raising it to her ear as she made a call.

A softly accented voice. Her swinging pony-tail soon disappeared into a shiny car.

Sevika rolled her eyes, paying her no mind. She pushed open the door for Silco--who seemed largely unphased despite nearly being ran over by that woman.

Silco passed by, calling back, “Wait for the next car,” he ordered, curt.

Sevika scowled, “The kid again?” she complained. It made no fucking sense to have the brat there for these meetings while Sevika was stuck watching paint dry outside the room.

“She needs to learn,” Silco explained as he always did, his tapping cane growing distant as he left her behind.

-

It was the first cold morning of an early winter.

Mel only managed to make it out of bed because of Shug’s pawing at the door. That adorable, little beast squirming into her room and her heart--she’d do anything to keep her happy. She jogged, Shug keeping pace beside her, tongue wagging. So cute, so—

The barest amount of guilt curled around her thoughts.

She needed to ask Elora to--maybe not Elora. She’s already asked her friend for so much. But she should look into finding another home for Shug. Her life was fine now, but…Mel supposed she’d be better off elsewhere. Or maybe not.

She had promised to try, afterall.

It was enough to stop her friends and family from constantly worrying. However she was still a bit miffed that she had to keep up with her therapy homework. Her therapist had brought up hobbies again. Something to break up the monotony--something to do with her hands.

Mel could only think of one thing.

Painting.

She hasn’t done it awhile.

It was something she had fought so hard for, yet slipped away so easily within these past few years. It wasn’t the act itself she avoided--but what it entailed. She only ever painted from life. People. Looking at people, interacting with people. The thought only made her sick now.

Perhaps, all she needed was a muse. Someone new, different--

Mel stopped abruptly, eyes caught--drawn all at once.

Soft snow falling--kissing skin.

Mel bit her lip, thoughts stirring, hands itching for a brush.

It was like seeing for the first time.

-

Mel saw her a lot— some early mornings and late nights at that park. She was working up the courage to approach and ask her to be her model. It was so easy to do so before--now it was different.

She wasn’t scared of the woman per say, but…she was a bit worried that she might let another question slip. Her heart always beating faster and faster--and faster at the sight of her, like she was a child again.

And it only grew-- that itch. That desire to learn more about the stranger that had begun to invade every-other sketch she had attempted lately.

-

“Is she a good person?”

“--‘vika baby, you never change.”

“You’re so…”

She’d miss them like air, like a heart beating.

“A bully and a brute—”

And yet.

“You never change, do you?”

--always-- there to pick her up and dust her off--

“...You’ve worked so hard…to keep us happy…to keep us safe.”

--again--and again.

There she was--without fail.

A calloused hand—pulling a coat tighter, muttering about the cold—rubbing out a cigarette, making a wish—holding a leaking cold pack to a swollen face—pressing into her hands, but not letting go— bloodied and bruised, but there—again and again—a steady hand, catching her by her waist before she fell. Hands, metal and skin--so strong, so soft—that held her precious—again and again.

Always there without fail—without faltering.

A lighter flicking —open then closed. Flame snuffed out, lit anew— a little different each time and yet.

She was—

-

Delicate kisses fell along the slope of Sevika’s face—lips fluttering against each curve, fingers trailing each line. The world was sluggish, slow, still sleeping that New Year's morning.

With a deep, shining reverence in her eyes--Mel watched them stir, “Everything, ” she murmured against their lips, smiling fondly.

Every dream, every wish, every future--she saw them at her side.

Sevika shuddered awake, arm lifting to press Mel more firmly against her body. Their mouth softly finding hers as they kissed her again and again—and again.

. . . . .

[lovsoul]

Luca Brecel winning the world championship was not on my bingo card but could legitimately happen wtf

[rastronomicals]

9:40 AM EST January 20, 2025:

Pelican - "WST" From the album Nighttime Stories (June 7, 2019)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

File under: Post-metal (in the more current sense)

[retrocompmx]

Un día como hoy (25 de octubre) en la tecnología

El 25 de octubre de 1952 nace la matemática y científica computacional inglesa Wendy Hall quien con Tim Bernes-Lee crearon la iniciativa de Investigación de Ciencias Web, comocida hoy como la Web Science Trust #retrocomputingmx #wendyhall #WST

[queeramericana]

Module 1

American Indian Women Lecture

women in native societies were not considered inferior

If a society wants t make sure of its survival the women and children must be protected 3:57

what set apart Native women from others was the respect they received within their cultures 5:45

European men always looked for male leaders, thus they described all chiefs as male. There might have been females right there but they wouldn't have seen their role as important even if they were 5:58

[fmarkets]

West Pharmaceutical Services Inc Achieves Impressive 34.8% Increase in EPS in Q4 2023 Fiscal Report https://csimarket.com/stocks/news.php?code=WST&date=2024-02-21144329&utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

[eastlaketea]

Turmoil - Mantle accessory

Mantle accessory for tall chars. Replaces Abyssos Amulet (bracelet slot). Fitted to: YAB S/S-Buff; YAB M/M-Buff; YAB L/L-Buff; Lanky/Lanky-Buff + YAB Legs option; TBSE-W (Midlanders only); TBSE-X-IVCS (Midlanders only).

Contributor Information: Illy, Tsar & Bizu - Bibo+; Tsar - TBSE; Aleks - YAB; Raykie - TBSE-X. Demo YAB Demo TBSE-W Ko-Fi

[extreme-neutral]

Mysterious disappearances of silly dogs from the local park.

No one files missing reports.

[dark-elf-writes]

Stupid idea but Harry Potter meeting Mama Poseidon!Percy? Would they like each other? Would Harry want a piece of that?

I need you to know that this made me think of MOD Harry how only recently realized what he is and that he is in fact immortal and is not taking it well meeting a recently ascended Percy who is also not taking it well and that is so up my alley it’s going to eat me alive.

But meeting Mama Poseidon Percy specifically? They would get along like a house on fire. Which is fortunate because the two of them have accidentally set several on fire as Percy tries to help Harry get his powers under control. Harry would take longer to fall for Percy romantically (and tbh probably wouldn’t even notice that he had) but once he did the power duo of two traumatized child soldiers recently deified would be lethal

Also would lead to Thanatos being either drawn into their orbit as well or with the most complicated older brother relationship with Harry to ever be conceived.

[roseamongroses]

with strange tenderness ch: 4/7

Alternate Universe - Modern Setting /Alternate Universe - Small Town /Artist Mel Medarda/ Muse! Sevika /Court Mandated Found Family/ Sevika Does Not Get Paid Enough (Arcane: League of Legends)/ Retired! Sevika/ Parental Death/ Past Traumatic Events/ Past Violence & Stalking/ Mild Sexual Content/ Dog/Cat Dynamic/ Canon-Typical Exploitation of the Working Class/ no beta we die like Silco/ Vitiligo! Mel/ repeated silco slander/ Hurt/Comfort/ Past Child Abuse/ Past Neglect/ Domestic Fluff

-

[1]/[2][3]/[4]

ao3

Somewhere between Zaun and its neighboring city of Piltover, in a sliver of rolling hills of muck and snow, there stood a house. A small house made of earth-rich stone, warm against the ashen landscape. The curtains were drawn, white tinsel wrapped around the front porch, a gold and silver reef hanging on the door.

Sevika rubbed her cigarette out in the porcelain ash-tray, eyeing the shiny, silver car in the driveway.

It wasn’t one of ‘their days’, but she came anyway.

Mel never minded as long as it was after a certain time. And if Sevika came too early, she’d be forgiven as long as she brought food.

She knew Mel had remote meetings lined up for the week and, well. Mel liked to dress up for every occasion--even if it’s from her home office.

Sevika was betting on a pencil skirt today.

And at that thought, she couldn’t help but smile.

Flipping through her keys, Sevika pulled out the spare key. Mel had given it to her--giving up on trying to get ready before Sevika’s sporadic arrival times.

Unlocking the door, her eyes strayed to the car once again.

As far as she knew, none of the meetings should run this late. It didn’t look like food delivery, nor the usual flower company either.

She pushed into the home, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. She toed off her boots, hanging up her coat.

It’d be hard to miss the silver coat hung on the hook she normally used, nor the polished boots neatly placed at the door.

Sevika walked to the living room, poking her head around the corner to see if she could spot the woman. Sometimes Mel would take a nap downstairs after her meetings, curled up on that little, ugly yellow couch, not a care in the world. She’d always wake up easily, no matter how hard Sevika tried to quiet her footsteps. But, today she didn’t see her there. Instead she noticed a new vase of flowers on the living room coffee table.

A normal sight, except-

Mel hated roses.

Sevika headed towards the stairs, hearing Shug scamper down the steps. She reached down, smoothing her big head and scratching behind her ears. Shug followed her as she climbed the stairs and-

A muffled moan.

Sevika stilled, staircase creaking. Shug tilted her head up, big brown eyes confused. Any second thoughts were quickly amended as another moan rung out, a distinct thumping-

You couldn’t… mistake it for anything else.

Sevika snorted, a bit impressed.

Of course Mel could get laid all the way out here.

Sevika’s finger twitched, finding her lighter in her pocket, flicking it open and closed.

‘So that’s what she sounds like?’

Her stomach tensed, coiling hot, her mind going blank. She ignored Shug nudging at her leg and turned to leave.

Sevika needed a drink or a good fuck. She hadn’t decided which yet.

But before she could choose, a door slammed open and she flinched. Rushed footsteps followed, a man stumbling around the corner. Tall, broad, and sunny. Dark-hair that fell in choppy waves around his face as he ran down the stairs. He seemed a bit taken aback seeing her, but it didn’t stop his momentum forward.

Sevika’s lighter flicked open--then closed. Her feet moved up the stairs then down the hall towards the open door without thinking.

She was always a bit…impulsive when it came to Mel. It was an urge that always cropped up--that need to dig, to be nosy, to experience her in every possible way.

And today, Mel Medarda was a woman enraged.

Mel’s face was thoroughly wrecked, dark lipstick smeared, lips pinched together thin.

She sat on top of that large oak desk, bracing herself on the back of her forearms. Long legs spread, pencil skirt bunching at her hips, tights caught around her thighs. The front few buttons on her chiffon-top were undone. Those light marks kissing down the curve of her neck. They disappeared between the valley of her chest and the scalloped edge of her black, lace bra.

Mel’s chest sharply rose and fell as she caught her breath, watery eyes blinking hard as they fell on Sevika. “...Why… are you here?” she winced, eyes closing as her head tipped back.

“You’re here,” Sevika said, leaning against the doorframe, “I wanted to see your face.”

At that, Mel’s brows furrowed, body tense, “You heard… all of that didn’t you?” At the following silence, she sighed, letting herself slump back onto the desk with a soft thud. Her locs fanned around her, a dark, rippling halo, “Go ahead and ask…” she muttered.

The flick of the lighter, open--closed.

“Okay,” Sevika said pushing herself off the doorframe.

The word hung between them, puncturing air as she slowly walked across the office.

“Who’s pretty-boy?”

“A colleague.”

Open--closed.

Another sigh, then, “--Ex-fiance, “ Mel elaborated, fingers playing with the ends of her hair, “I’ve been avoiding him for two years, but he managed to schedule an appointment--insisting that it be in person. He- ” her thighs pressed together, “--wanted closure. Apparently I did too.”

Open—closed.

Blackened lips twisted.

“Why’d he leave?”

“...He always leaves,” Mel said, dryly.

Open-

Sevika had circled the desk, her shadow falling over Mel’s form.

That precious anger-- no longer hidden.

Pinprick tears trickled down Mel’s hardened face. Dull eyes staring back, listless.

A whisper of a bright flame.

Sevika crouched down, arms bracketing against the desk. She leaned in close, wisps of dark hair falling, leaving the light around her scattered. Close enough that Mel could see the split in her lips, the smell of rich, earthen smoke pooling around her, thick--distracting.

Mel’s breath hitched--wide eyed, curious, waiting.

“He’s fucking stupid, ” Sevika says, flatly.

Mel blinked, a bit dazed as they pulled away abruptly.

Then--she exhaled, shoulders trembling as a bubbling laugh escaped her lips, chasing away the lingering tears.

-

Mel sat on the steps of the front porch, face scrubbed clean and eyes raw. She had thrown on a coat, a thick blanket wrapped around her legs. Hearing footsteps, she looked up, accepting the mug. Her nose wrinkled as she lifted it to her mouth in one, brave movement, “Oh that’s horrible,” she grimaces, taking another sip.

“Ain’t it?” Sevika said sitting down and sipping from her own mug evenly.

Those rolling hills were dusted pink. The sun sat like a pearl on the horizon, bitter winds rustling the bare branches of the scattered trees and sending flurries scattering wild.

Wintertime in Zaun never ended, it seemed. Cold clinging like rubber to her skin, to the soil. It quieted the earth, stripping it bare for all to see, but it wasn’t unkind. The promise of spring buried deep beneath those bitter soils, cradling those lonesome seeds gently.

Mel didn’t mind the wintertime.

She didn’t mind her.

Mel’s eyes closed, content, as she rested her head on their shoulder, breathing in that smoke deep, “Sevika?”

“Hm?”

-

Sevika shut the passenger door, locking the car. She readjusted her scarf, heavy boots crunching against pavement.

A pair of slender, black heeled boots clicked ahead. Long leather skirt swishing. Neat, manicured hands folded behind her back as Mel threw a grin over her shoulder, “Do you come here often?” she asked.

‘The Last Drop’

A bar of some sorts.

The building was stacked, a mismatched combination of metal and brick. It was crammed between a vet office and an abandoned CVS.

Well loved, withered, past its prime.

Its neon sign hummed, a warm glow casting over the streets. The thrum of music and the hearty laughs of its patrons barely constrained by its walls.

“Not recently,” Sevika said, mulling it over, “I try not to be out on weekdays.”

Even though she didn’t work, she was kept relatively busy by Isha and Jinx. She doesn’t know how working parents do it. Disciplinary meetings, clubs, games, PTA meetings, homework, appointments. All of that didn’t even include the domestic chores and constant prying by local law enforcement.

Thankfully, they weren’t visiting the doctor’s as often anymore. After comparing notes with others in the parent group, she started buying and making their breakfast and lunches. Isha’s constant sick days mysteriously fuckin’ cleared up soon after.

And most weekends she was with-

Mel tilted her head, pony-tail swaying with the movement, “Right, your kids would keep you pretty busy,” she said, pulling up her mask.

Sevika’s nose twitched at that, feeling a bit--odd, “You make it sound like I’m a parent.”

“Well,” Mel sent her a side-long glance, “You are their legal guardian.”

“Right, but-”

“Didn’t you take Jinx to the father-daughter dance?”

“...Yes, but that doesn’t-”

“Isha made you that scarf for Mother’s day,” Mel continued, patiently, listing her points as easy as she breathed air, “She even draws you in her family pictures. Obviously you can’t replace their birth-family, but your girls do rely on you in a way that goes beyond your legal obligations.”

Sevika swallowed, thumbing that scratchy, gold and blue scarf--stuck.

It made sense, logical sense. But it didn’t.

When did…this… happen?

Was it when she signed the papers?

When they moved back to Zaun?

She couldn’t quite tell. The then and now indistinguishable.

Sevika pushed open the door to the bar, waiting, then realizing.

Mel had stopped at the entrance. She studied that space, uncertain, that easy confidence waning. Laughing groups, the clinking of glass, speakers crackling with cheesy, christmas remixes. Faces, the faces, so many faces. Looking and smiling, voices sharp in her ear, teeth bared and jagged, eyes that-

A hand settled on the curve of her waist, pulling her gently into a firm side.

Sevika ducked her head. Her mouth hovered by Mel’s ear, voice rough, “You’re with me tonight, right?”

Mel shakily nodded, remembering to breathe again.

-

“Everyone says I’ve made progress--that I should take my time. But I’m so…tired of it all,” Mel said with a thinly concealed disdain, “--tiptoeing around life like it isn’t mine while other people can come and go at any time and do as they please.”

-

Sevika guided Mel to the second floor, stopping every so often to greet people who recognized her. The rickety balcony seating had significantly less foot traffic, lights dim, overlooking the ground floor.

Mel slid into the seat closest to the wall, realizing that from up here she could effectively see the entire bar. Every exit, every swing of the door, and patron that passed. Processing this, she shrugged off the coat, readjusting that low-cut, slinky black top.

Sevika leaned back in her chair, nodding at a passing couple.

Mel studied her, curious, “Do you know everyone here—?”

“I grew up with most of these assholes, “ Sevika admitted, extending a crooked finger towards the couple from before as they squeezed down those spiraling stairs. They were both white-haired, wearing bright, ugly Christmas sweaters and matching hot-pants, hands tucked into each other's waistbands, “That’s Lil’ Ricky and Minx, they’re married,” then added under her breath, “Not to each other.”

Mel’s eyebrows lifted, sneaking another glance at the couple, before lifting her brows even higher.

Sevika nodded, arms folding as she leaned forward, voice low, “Both their partners know about the affair--both hate their guts. The two been fuckin’ around since I was in grade school. I think having screaming matches in the church parking lot gets them going cause they refuse to get divorces—“

Hot food, easy gossip, a pleasantly gruff voice in Mel’s ear.

It was—nice, that lingering tension slowly easing.

Thinking it over—she carefully pulled down her mask, tucking it away in her coat pocket. She searched the bar once more, but for an entirely different reason.

Mel inclined her head, “What about them?” she asked, directing their attention towards the table of gentlemen not far from them, playing a rather loud card game. All crude gestures, vicious laughter, and prodding words. An oddly nostalgic sight.

“Oh Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbass? “ Sevika fondly drawls, “The lot can't tie their shoes for shit, but they can play a mean game of poker,” noting their interest, she then asked, “Can you play?”

“Not at all,” Mel said, peering over the rim of her glass at the lively table with a slow creeping smile, “Introduce me?”

-

“I know I can leave the house if I try. But I…don't have many reasons to try nowadays.”

-

Sevika shuffled the deck of cards, surveying the men in front of her, but endlessly distracted. Mel sat on her lap, thighs flushed together, hips rocking every-so-often as she leaned forward, making conversation with the table. Leather dragging against jean, legs tangled.

Mel had decided she was Sevika’s good luck charm for tonight’s game.

And even though she wasn’t playing, she was playing them all for fools. The old men lapped up her every word, practically falling over themselves for her like doting grandfathers. They talked about everything from the phasing out of painted signs over the years in favor of printed vinyls to the repairs an old home would need to handle the winter weather long term.

“Oh, my bad,” Mel said, turning around with an apologetic look once she realized she had effectively picked off most of the food from Sevika’s plate, “Should I get you another—?”

“—I can get it—“ Dumbass managed to be the loudest voice, waving down a waiter.

And just like that, Sevika’s empty plate was smoothly replaced. It had to be magic, she decided. She's never seen these men so well behaved.

Whatever it was, it was none of her business, so she dealt the cards and with the ensuing bullshit.

Game finally started, Mel settled down. Her breath tickled Sevika’s collarbone as she rested her head in the crook of their neck. She then quietly asked, “Teach me how to play?”

Sevika’s mouth twitched into a wicked smile.

-

“So, you want my help?”

“No, I want you to show me a good time.”

-

Gnarled, veiny hands were flushed pink by the cold. Vi dusted off the grime as the lid to the trash-bin slammed closed.

Bright blue and purple headphones jumped with the beat of the music, Vi humming along as she ducked out of the alleyway back into the warmth of the bar.

She shrugged off her coat, tossing it back onto the hooks. The keys whipping around her finger as she locked the emergency exit again. She ducked into the kitchen, saluting to the chef, before she pushed through the doors that led to the bar counter. Her boots hit the floorboards hard as she entered, catching the attention of her coworker.

Vi signed wildly as she spoke, a strange mixture of disgust and fascination dripping with each word, “Dude, dude, dude, I jus’ saw gnarly fuckin’ rat out back. It’d give chef’s ugly ass a run for his money—“

Gert snorted, shaking her head amused as she polished her glass.

“Anything ‘fun’ happen while I was out?” Vi asked, only needing to correct her signs three times. Each time Gert looked more and more amused, the patient asshole. Gert kept track of the funniest mistakes to piss her off—there was a list on the employee fridge and everything.

Gert made a funny face—eyes traveling to the balcony seating, then signing —Hag.

Vi’s eyes lit up, a sly smile spreading across her face as she flipped her headphones back in, “I’m takin’ another 15–“ she announced, hopping the counter, boots landing heavy.

She wove her way through the crowd and up the stairs, wood creaking. She rolled her shoulders, giving them a nice stretch then popping her joints in her hand.

It was time to honor a tradition of sorts.

In a small-town like this, you were stuck with a lot of people who pissed you the fuck off for one reason or another. But you had to make do with them because you were either related to them or fucking someone related to them.

So it helped to find ways to ease the tension.

Upstairs, several tables had been pushed together—a rowdy game. The twip of cards thrown across the table, the clink of glasses, earthy smoke, and crass jokes.

At the center of it all—a blunt was raised to blackened lips. Sevika set down her hand of cards, baring her teeth, “Cough it up—fuckin’ losers,” Sevika heckled, letting out a throaty laugh at the chorus of groans and insults following.

A leather coat hung off her chair, a woman hanging off her lap. The old bat always snagged the fine ones—the woman’s face tucked into Sevika’s neck, shoulders shaking with laughter.

Vi cracked her neck, “Outside, old lady—“ she called out, cutting through the noise. Those dark eyes fell on her, annoyed, “—You know the drill.”

Sevika gave her a flat look, ignoring the jeering comments around her—the whole town understood the tradition, “Not today, fire-crotch,” she says, inhaling and blowing smoke in her direction.

Vi snorted, undeterred, “Scared I’ll kick your ass in front of your girl?” she taunted.

The tradition had started soon after she got her juvenile records sealed—only to find out she still couldn’t get custody of her sister. The courts kept bitchin’ about instability or some shit--then basically told her to get over it.

Vi got over it alright—over the fuckin’ table and at Sevika’s throat.

After a while, she somewhat accepted the court's decision. More so because Sevika was thankfully a local and Vi could see how comfortable Jinx was with the arrangement. Despite this, she still gave Sevika shit whenever she could and—

The woman in Sevika’s lap raised her head, face turning.

Vi stiffened, eyes wide, “Professor Medarda?”

At that, Sevika sent her companion a look.

Dr. Medarda sighed, leaning back to briefly whisper in Sevika's ear. Then, she sent Vi a polite smile, readjusting her slipping top as she spoke, “Violet, how are you?”

“Uh—“ Violet’s eyes drifted down before she blinked hard, clearing her throat, “Godd—Good.”

Dr. Medarda paid her no mind, instead asking, “Is there a problem?”

Vi’s glanced at her regularly-scheduled problem.

Sevika squeezed Dr. Medarda’s knee, studying Vi with a mean look.

Vi decided to live. She wanted to spar, not seriously get her ass beat.

“Nothing, nothing—“ Vi immediately said. She shook her hands out, trying to let go of that pent up energy, “Is… it cool if I take Jinx to a concert next weekend?”

At that, Sevika’s eyes dropped back to her cards, dismissive, “Knock yourself out.”

Vi sucked in her teeth, hands clapping together, “Sooo….What brings you to Zaun?” she asked Dr. Medarda, eyes trained pointedly above the shoulders.

“I needed a change of pace,” Dr. Medarda admits, looking a bit—tense.

“Right,” Vi felt a bit stupid for not asking this first, “Hey are you okay—“

“I’m fine, “ Dr. Medarda says cutting her off, “Thank you for asking.”

-

“So it’s a date?”

“It’s a date.” -

Mel inhaled. She gripped the sink, knuckles tight.

She breathed. Deeply—deliberately, pretending she could hear her therapist rattling off the instructions in her ear. She repeated this until her grip eased again. Then again--until she could feel the biting cold of the bathroom sink against her palms and feel the low, buzzing warmth on her tongue.

It was an impressive feat that she didn’t need a break earlier. Then again, it was impressive that she was here at all. Wading through all those shifting feelings, the tide taking and taking, but somehow she was still standing on her feet.

That ever-deafening ache a whisper of it's former self, leaving a cavity in her chest--her heart light. In a way, it was lonely. She was so used to drowning in those dreadful feelings, she was at a loss of what to do with all of this air.

Mel opened her eyes, scrutinizing that dingy bathroom mirror. A bright-eyed stranger stared back.

She was a little older, a little weary, yet she looked happy.

-

Mel approached the tables, a bit confused. Empty bottles and chairs, discarded plates, and--

Sevika counted out an odd mixture of ones, coupons, and IOU’s, “I sent them home,” she explained without looking up, thumb brushing the side of her stack, “The old farts were up past their bedtime.”

Downstairs, there were still a few groups of people milling about the bar. Some even few started to drunkenly sing karaoke. Without the other gamblers, the balcony was notably sparse.

Mel pulled out her chair, legs brushing together as she sat across from them. She leaned onto the palm of her hand, idly sipping the water that conveniently replaced her empty drink, “Should I be getting you ready for bed then?”

Sevika cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed, “You callin’ me old?”

“You’re well experienced,” Mel teased, legs crossing.

“Uh-huh.”

Sevika split the stack evenly, passing her the other half. Then she picked up the deck of cards again, shuffling through them with a careless, yet practiced cadence, “I’ll teach you a new game.”

Mel accepted the small stack, neatly folding and tucking it into her bra, “What are we betting?”

“Truths,” Sevika said, dealing the cards, “Unless you wanna sing with that lot?

“Tempting--“ Mel said, foot nudging the side of their leg, playfully “What are the rules?”

-

Mel’s eyes narrowed at the results, looking up dryly.

“Have you been with a woman before?” Sevika asked, not missing a beat.

“Yes, I have, “ Mel said, a little amused, “I attended an all-girls boarding school growing up—then an all-women’s college,” then she added fondly, “That’s where I met Elora, “

Ah, the bird.

Sevika turned the information over in her head, “Did y’all—?”

“On occasion, but we never dated,” Mel explained with a sigh, “She’s engaged to my ex-girlfriend. They’re getting married in the spring. ”

Sevika blinked, slowly, not particularly…surprised, “How’d they meet?”

“They hooked up after my bachelorette party,” Mel said, lips quirked at the memory, “I woke up to all their voice messages the next day—they were so worried I’d be mad. “

“...Were you mad?”

“That I couldn’t join? Yes.”

-

Sevika adjusted in her seat, legs spreading wider, pettily bumping into Mel’s leg.

Mel ignored them, considering her question carefully--taking longer than expected.

Sevika found that people usually went for the arm, the scars, or most recently the execution. Sometimes she’d get the odd question or two about her ethnicity.

“--How many piercings do you have?”

That—was a surprise.

Mel’s seen every inch of her body.

Both nipples, four in one ear, two in the other, a labret, and—

“Ten,” Sevika said.

She didn’t miss where Mel’s eyes traveled.

-

Mel shamelessly snagged another fry from Sevika’s plate. She chewed on it, watching the strangely profound interpretation of ‘Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer' out of the side of her eye. She picked up another fry, but it was swiped out of her hand.

Sevika tossed the fry into her mouth, “Your funniest regret in life?”

Eyes still fixed on the performance downstairs, Mel stood up without much thought, her back to Sevika. Slender hands lifted the back of her top and lightly tugged down the waist of her skirt.

Spiraling tendrils were inked into her skin, curving with the arch of her back and dipping out of sight below the swell of her hips, “My brother nearly failed his last semester of college,” she said, letting the fabric fall back over the tattoo, “I got this to distract my Mom for a bit. It worked—got my shit rocked though.”

Sevika shot her a look at that last part, another fry paused between her lips, “That’s not funny.”

“You didn’t see her face when she first saw it-” Mel said, plucking the fry from Sevika’s hand and popping it in her mouth, “It was incredibly funny.”

-

It wasn’t much of a card game at that point.

Chairs pushed together, comfortably close, cards all but forgotten. The pair passed questions back and forth, caught up in their own world. A heeled boot brushing against jean, an arm draped across the back of her chair, eyes that strayed a little too often.

After a while, Sevika had gone quiet, listening to Mel talk. Watching her fingers twirl the ends of Sevika’s hair, soft voice, softer curves easing into her side, close, closer.

Mel noticed their far-off look, looking up through her eyelashes, curious, “What are you thinking about?”

Dark eyes easily found hers, “You.”

Simple, yet terribly vauge.

You

That word carried a weight--a certainty that settled on Mel’s heart and would not move. She closed her eyes briefly, a warmth flushing her face as she steadied her breath, “You’re so…” she trailed off, daring a glance up as her hands reached behind Sevika's head, tangling into her hair.

Sevika let those hands guide her down, chair scraping as she slowly moved, crowding Mel against the wall.

Close, closer.

Breathing each other in as-

A door slammed open and the pair flinched away. They stilled, looking at each other uneasy, before searching for the noise. Even the few lingering patrons at the bar stopped to look at the door, radio crackling in the silence.

Mel held onto Sevika, body tense as she peered over their shoulder.

Sevika’s hand stroked the small of her back, comforting, “It’s probably some drunk assh-”

“VIOLET PIG-FUCKER PICKETT. YOU BACKSTABBING—“

Sevika winced, eyes shutting.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Arm still around Mel, she turned to get a better look.

It might not even be-

“SWIPER-ASS, LYING CUNT—“

Jinx.

Bright, blue braids whipped across the space and over the bar counter, hooking Vi right in the face.

Sevika groaned.

The two planned on going to a concert next week, so maybe there was a chance Vi wouldn’t resp-

Vi gnashed her teeth, strong hand snatching the next punch—then Jinx’s hair. She yanked hard, the two staggering to the ground. A heap of jabbing limbs and snarled curses that startled the few lingering patrons away.

Somehow, someway, this was Silco’s fucking fault.

Sevika found the will to stand, feet heavy as she crossed to the wooden guard-rail.

Any other night she’d consider letting this slide. The sisters fought every other week, but tonight was different. She knew plenty of other people who could baby-sit Isha, but Jinx had offered tonight.

And the girl was loyal--stubborn. She’d never leave Isha at home.

Eyes scanning the bar—there.

A crooked hat pulled over a mess of wild curls. Isha was slumped over a table, feet dangling from the seat, slippers sliding off her feet. Only a breadth of a way from the violence, table rattling from the vibrations.

Sevika grinded her teeth, eyes darting between the on-going fight and Isha.

Mel stood beside her, brows knitting, “Do you…need me to get her?” she asked, “We can wait in the truck while you…handle things here.”

“...You don’t have to—“

Mel’s eyes narrowed, holding out her hand, expectantly.

Sevika sighed, unhooking her keys and pressing them into her palm.

Mel held onto her hand for a moment. Her heels lifted slightly as she kissed Sevika’s cheek, quick and sweet, “I had fun tonight,” she whispered, squeezing their hand, “Do what you need to do. We’ll be okay.”

And like that--she was off. The clicking of heeled boots getting further and further away. Mel moved briskly through the empty bar. She avoided the sisters and picked Isha up with surprising ease--out the door soon after.

Once gone-

Sevika cracked her neck.

Her joints popped as she rolled her shoulders. She flexed her hands, metal on skin, taunt.

She was Jinx’s guardian.

She’d never lay a hand on the girl, but Reject Raggedy-Anne was fair fucking game.

-

“What the hell—she started it—!” Vi protested, face grounded into the floorboards by Sevika’s hand, her prosthetic hand pinning her arms.

“I don’t care who started it—” Sevika grumbled, “She’s a minor—dipshit. You could catch a charge.”

Vi glared, struggling to break the hold, “She’s not a minor—she’s my sister.”

Sevika smoothly covered her mouth, muffling her complaints.

Jinx sat on a barstool, slumped over as she nursed her swollen face with a leaking bag of ice.

She met Vi’s eyes, sticking out her tongue.

Vi’s nostrils hotly flared, body trembling.

Sevika’s head snapped around, eyes narrowing at the teen.

Jinx put her tongue back in her mouth.

“You.” Sevika’s voice was eerily calm.

“…Me?” Jinx echoed, feet kicking.

“Explain.”

Jinx exhaled, annoyed. Her eyes danced around the room, avoiding the older woman’s gaze, “She took my shit,” she mutters bitterly, hand curling around the beat-up headphones.

“You dragged an eight year old to a petty-ass bar fight because of some headphones?”

“What’s the big deal?” Jinx complained, nose twitching, “She’s fine. She wanted to come,” she insisted, the bar stool creaking as her legs swung harder,

“She’s eight. She also wants to fly to mars and eat ice cream all day—“

“So—what?” Jinx said, head jerking with each word, “You wanted me to leave her home by herself?”

“You could’ve called someone else to watch her—you could’ve called me.”

At that--Jinx frowned, “…I didn’t want to interrupt your date.”

Sevika looked at her, disbelieving.

“Ok—ok—“ Jinx waved her off, slumping back against the counter, “How was I supposed to know y’all were here—? I know you’re cheap, but I didn’t think you were that cheap—and Isha’s a big-girl.”

“She’s eight.”

“You keep saying that it means something.” Jinx scoffed, “It’s Zaun, she’s seen worse. Hell—I’ve seen worse.” she said, voice pitching, “It wasn’t a big fuckin’ deal to you back then.”

“What’s changed now?”

Sevika’s known Jinx for a while now.

Practically her whole life.

Good and bad. Mostly bad.

From her hanging off her Mama’s hip to her peeking around Silco’s leather office- chair.

Those violet eyes, bright—seething.

Her ghost haunts a long line of Sevika’s bad decisions.

In that line of work—it was better not to ask questions. You need to keep your head down, your ears alert, and keep your distance at all times.

If Silco wanted to let his kids hang around—so be it.

They didn’t question if it was safe, if it was healthy—they only needed to get through the next day. The next fight, the next shipment, the next round of interrogations. They were willfully indifferent to everything else--to her.

Back then, Sevika was always a little uncomfortable around Jinx. At the time she wasn’t sure if it was the girl's personality or if it was because she didn’t see the point in a kid hanging around when they had shit to do.

But, now she knows. That little girl, so small—seething, shaking with so much hatred. Those big eyes—looked a lot like her own.

Nobody fuckin’ cared—then.

Not about Sevika’s bruises or broken bones—not if she cried, screamed, or disappeared.

So, Sevika didn’t care if it wasn’t for a check or for a blunt—her ambitions always clouded with a haze of fuck-all. Letting her eyes pass by that little girl, neither helping or harming, ignoring that uncomfortable prodding feeling.

And now—Jinx didn’t care.

Sevika let that slow shifting irritation sharpen—but the blade was only directed at herself.

Inhale.

Exhale.

“I was fuckin’ stupid—” Sevika says, loosening her hold, “Careless crap like that—like this, gets people hurt—or worse.”

Jinx huffed, strands of hair flying out of her face. She turned in the seat, scratching lines into the wood of the counter—like she wasn’t listening.

She was.

Sevika knew she was.

“You'd never want Isha to go through any of the bull-shit you have—you’re better than that.”

Jinx’s hand stilled at those words, those numby fingernails digging hard, “…Am I?” she murmured, brows scrunching together, “If I was good enough, Vi wouldn’t be leaving again.”

Oh—

It was never about the headphones.

Beneath her, Vi stopped struggling in her hold.

Considering the two, Sevika decided, “…You’re not going to the concert--”

Jinx’s head snapped up, “What—you fuckin’-“

“Why the hell no—“ Vi managed to spit out, before her mouth was covered again.

Sevika ignored them both, “—until, y’all work this shit out. I don’t care if it’s at home, at the therapists office, or in the fucking street—just don’t drag Isha into it.”

-

Sevika adjusted her mirror.

In the back, Isha was knocked out cold. Her drool pooled around her mouth as she clutched Mel’s balled up white scarf fiercely. Next to her the two knuckle-heads were squeezed into the remaining space. Jinx pointedly took the seat by the door, scrawny limbs spread wide and boots propped up. Vi was squeezed between her two wards, shifting uncomfortably in the middle seat.

The two sisters looked everywhere but at each other.

It was a deathly silent ride home.

Sevika’s fingers tapped on the wheel, her prosthetic arm hanging out the window. She let the cold air wash over her face, numbing the nonsense.

Every-so-often, she’d glance towards the passenger’s seat. Mel curled up in the seat, hands fidgeting with her coat, eyes watching the hills roll past. She didn’t notice it at first, since she was so quiet, but-- Mel was shivering.

Sevika pulled her arm back into the truck, cranking the windows back up. Switching hands, metal now tapped against the wheel as her other hand reached across the aisle.

Mel glanced her way with a sliver of a smile, fingers intertwining together.

Behind them, Jinx elbowed Vi--before they could return the favor, she jerked her chin sharp to the front.

Vi squinted at her for a moment, eyes following the directions begrudgingly.

Sevika raised Mel’s hand up to her mouth, holding it there for a moment as she spoke. Words a low murmur, easily lost in the noise of the truck.

Vi and Jinx’s eyes met again.

Vi raised an eyebrow.

Jinx raised one right back.

So it was decided.

-

Mel sighed, finger twirling a loc.

She watched Sevika march the sisters up the stairs to their apartment, a sleeping Isha hanging off of Jinx’s shoulders.

Considering the situation, she offered to call a driver to pick her up from here. Though, she hadn’t managed to pick up her phone, waiting. Even if she was going home, she could prolong the evening a little bit. Greedy as it is--she knew Sevika would insist on waiting with her until her driver arrived and-

Sevika jerked back, door slamming in her face. She tried the doorknob a few times, face twisted. It briefly opened, a cheeky white face peeking out then--the door slammed promptly in Sevika’s face again.

Mel sat up straighter, schooling her expression as she watched them stomp back towards the truck.

Sevika didn’t look angry. She slid into her seat, door clicking behind, “Jinx swiped my house keys,“ she explained, seat belt clicking, “The brat locked me out. Told me to piss off ‘till morning.”

“Did they, now?” Mel muttered, calmly flipping down the sun-visor and sliding open the mirror.

“They’ll destroy the apartment, ” Sevika adds with a sigh, engine starting, “But neighbors will complain if I cause a racket and I don’t want to wake Isha up again. “

Mel examined her face, carefully, reapplying gloss to her lips, “We shouldn’t cause a disturbance this late,” she agreed, wiping the excess, “It’d be rude.”

Sevika threw an arm over the back of Mel’s seat, pulling off without a second glance.

-

‘The Historic City of Zaun’

Sevika drove her pick-up truck past that half-rotten sign. Vivid blue graffiti sprawled across the faded letters. There were newer tags thrown up now- a striking white, violet and gold clustering the blue. The sign was more paint than wood at this point .

Mel hummed along with the radio, listening to that slow music and the steady tapping of Sevika’s fingers against the wheel. She watched as the small-town faded into the country. “This isn’t the way to the house,” she notes, curious.

“It isn’t,” Sevika confirms. She turned into a side road, pavement uneven and bumpy, rattling the whole car as she drove.

Mel’s face was strained as she reached up to steady herself with the assist grips, body jerking every-which way.

Tires screeching, a cloud of dirt settled behind them as the truck parked.

Mel slowly let go of the assist-grips, undoing her seatbelt, still shaken. She waited as instructed as Sevika exited the car, crossing to the other side with two beer bottles in one hand, opening the passenger door.

Stepping out, Mel immediately lost her balance on the iced over terrain.

Sevika caught her, steadying her at the waist, only pulling away to grab her hand. She led her down a winding path. A scattered forest, trees jagged and bare against the rocky mounds. She helping her climb through more than a few worn down chain link fences. The two quietly talked along the way, conversation coming and going as easy as the wind.

“Where did you even find these?” Mel asked, nose curling as she sipped on that strange drink--not quite beer, It tasted more so like it was poured in proximity to something covered in beer. Nasty, but for some reason, she couldn’t stop drinking it.

Sevika was silent for a moment, then, “…My dad would have phases of sobriety when he got older,” she said, boots crunching in the snow as she led them further off path, “He’d always find these weird non-alcoholic brands to help. Something about rituals and shit. But after a while he started collecting the grossest drinks.”

“…Were you and your father close?”

“Fuck no-” Sevika barked out a laugh, tipping the rim of her bottle to catch the last drops on her tonge, “-couldn’t stand that asshole.”

More fences cropped up, broken spirals that protruded from the earth. The sky pressed down on them, a comforting darkness that blanketed their path, bright stars occasionally peeking through its threads. Those rolling hills petered out, surrendering with a sharp drop. Another chain-link fence blocked them off from that never ending expanse of sky and the tumbling earth below.

Mel’s breath hitched, stepping closer.

Thousands of bottles--rosy, golden, silvery glass-- were tied to the chain-fence, clinking like chimes in the wind. The dark crests caught the moon's light as they swayed, a shimmering wall both dark and bright. Below, you could see the jagged hillside and the distant town lights tucked behind the shadows of the trees. Her hand hovered over the bottles, unwilling to touch.

This close she could see the little slips of papers tucked inside each one.

“When I was younger, there used to be a big, old tree here,” Sevika said at her side, eyes trained far, far below, “It was struck by lightning twice, split clean down the middle, but it stood strong for years. It blocked off most of the cliff, but if you climbed inside you could look right through it and see Zaun. We used to tie paper to the branches to make wishes.”

“What…" Mel frowned a bit, eyeing the sparse land at their feet, “...happened to it?”

Sevika shrugged, “Some rich kid bought the land,” she said, thumb smoothing over the back of Mel’s hand, “Tore it down to make a park. Got bored and left. I think they got his ass for tax-evasion later on. ”

Mel sighed, not at all surprised.

“People still come here though,” Sevika continued, looking up, “Don’t know why, but they started putting their wishes in bottles and tying them to the fence instead. It’s not much, but I thought you might…” She shifted her weight, drawing quiet, uncertain.

“....It’s lovely,” Mel reassured, “We used to do something similar when I was younger. We’d paint rocks, make a wish, and bury them in my Mom’s garden when she wasn’t looking,” she said, chuckling a bit at the memories, but her face was cloudy, “If we could dig them up in spring without getting caught, our wish would come true.”

Sevika squeezed her hand and Mel smiled, leaning on their shoulder. Her eyes lost between the stars, the twinkling glass, and the lights far below,

Sevika couldn’t look away, lost in the sight as well.

Soft light catching on the flurries drifting down and kissing the tip of Mel’s nose. Her skin--soft browns petaling like falling snow against a rich sky. Gentle bright eyes and fluttering lashes. Hands that held her, cradling her precious. Pressing close and closer, listening as if she couldn’t bear not to catch every word, like she couldn’t wait to share every passing breath.

Mel hummed, then she asked, “Can we make a wish?”

Sevika nodded, reaching to pull out the slips of paper and pen she had buried in her pocket. She pressed them into Mel’s hands, but didn’t let go, mouth moving before she could think better of it, “...Mel?” Sevika said, the name catching between her heart and her throat.

A bottle fell from her other hand, snow crunching.

“Hm?”

Mel’s eyes widened, breath caught as Sevika's hand curled around her face, those dark eyes—questioning.

Sevika pulled her close, then closer, mouth finding hers and kissing her decisively. Mel’s eyes fluttered, a blooming heat in her chest, lips moving soft, then urgent. A long dormant fever took hold as a gloved hand stroked her cheek, coaxing out soft sighs. Another hand slipped around her waist--close--hips pressing closer. Sighing --gasping, Mel stumbled back into the fence, her hands tangling into Sevika's hair-- that comforting weight followed.

Snow crunched, the pen and paper scattered, the bottles clinking as the fence rattled.

The whole world fell to the wayside as they lost themselves in each other's warmth.

[violetlunette]

Twst spoilers!

I think one of the funniest things about Lilia is that we all imagine him as a sex daddy but if I understand correctly, the only person he loved romantically was Maleanor (and maybe her husband?) but she never returned the romantic feelings. So, it’s highly likely that Lilia is a 700 year old virgin. (There's a movie idea.)

[rastronomicals]

2:56 PM EST November 8, 2024:

Pelican - "WST" From the album Nighttime Stories (June 7, 2019)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

File under: Post-metal (in the more current sense)

[timdrakesstaff]

Whatvthe Fuck. Why

standing ominously in your askbox

-@smartestwayne (too tired to stay anon idc anymore . ik the host Very Cares but im not him)

Must be very small to be able to stand up are your Full Height in that box, there...

[queeramericana]

Module 1

In Search of History: Salem Witch Trials (video). Ronald Hutton 3:33 - encourage local people to be afraid of each other and to denounce each other as witches

Malleus Maleficarum - historical book on how to identify witchcraft activity

Memorable Providences - Cotton Mather's historical account of witch trial

a modest enquiry into the nature of witchcraft - John Hale's apologetic repentance for the trials

Bridget Bishop - first to hang

Giles Corey - pressed to death by rocks

[neige-leblanche]

i tolled yawl i would where the roughelly shirt twodeigh

[eastlaketea]

Glacier

Weapon set. DoF-friendly, 2 dye system.

Replaces (shared models uncluded): · SGE (Wings) - Diadochos weapon, Scaevan Wings; · SGE (Milpreves) - Padjali Milpreves, Archeo Kingdom weapon (alt design); · SCH / SMN - Diadochos weapon, Archeo Kingdom Codex/Index; · AST - Archeo Kingdom weapon; · WHM / BLM - Archeo Kingdom weapon.

2024/ Design & models & textures by me.

Demo MCDF Ko-Fi