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halyasgirl · 3 months ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, Silco doesn’t like that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(This family is so doomed by the narrative).

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possibilistfanfiction · 17 days ago

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for the caitvi prompts: university

been really enjoying the light heartedness lol

[a little backstory! v cute! we love them! fits in this little au here & here, also now up on ao3 if that's a better place to stay organized w them lol]

it’s your favorite kind of day outside, gloomy and rainy without being freezing cold. cait holds your hand without asking today, which makes you smile into her shoulder and you kind of hate it, the butterflies that you’d assumed you were too old and too fucked up for, but you’re also, just, thankful. you’d climbed together this morning at the gym closest to your apartment, which is a little smaller and older than the one closer to cait’s, but she always compliments the route setting and is friendly with the staff, enjoying your friends’ happy teasing that of course you’re on a date climbing, vi. she loves it just as much as you do, so the embarrassment, at least in that way, has faded.

but still, you had showered back at your apartment together, changed, and are walking, even with her pouting about how the drizzle will make her hair frizzy, around the old buildings of the university campus nearby, wandering until it’s time to meet jinx, jayce, and viktor for lunch. it’s a date-date, it occurs to you, your third official one, even though it’s just barely noon and cait is in a simple turtleneck, a practical raincoat, and pair of jeans, rather than anything fancy: you’re getting to know her, to learn her, to listen and encourage and laugh and, quite literally, catch her when she falls.

you acquiesce to her pouting eventually — jinx teases you all the time for it, but her eyes are so blue and she’s so pretty — so you duck into jinx’s favorite coffee shop and get her a warm, honey and mint tea for the rest of your stroll. she smiles into the steam, then up at you, and it’s really, terrifyingly easy to kiss her while you hope, a little tug in your chest, that the days continue on and on like this.

‘did you study at university?’ she asks, sipping her tea once it’s cooled down. she says it conversationally, like she genuinely wants to know, but still, you scoff.

‘what makes you think someone like me went to school?’

‘well,’ she says, never one to back down, ‘your sister attends university, and also you’re quite smart.’

jinx and vander and your therapist are always on you about accepting compliments, leaning into the way people see you now: kind, competent, responsible, intelligent. you try to let this one sink in, to trust that caitlyn will still see you as those things after you tell her. you tug her to a bench under a pretty awning covered in ivy. ‘thank you.’

she hums.

‘i — i got my GED when i was incarcerated,’ you say, the simplest way to go about it. if things go bad, at least jinx is close by and would probably be more than happy to ditch her class; you could make an escape.

‘oh,’ caitlyn says and is quiet for one of the most frightening moments of your life; her face is calm and doesn’t give anything away. ‘i hate prisons,’ she says, finally, which abruptly makes you laugh, one hard bark of a thing. she squeezes your hand and smiles. ‘i am glad they offered that program for you, at least.’

‘i — whew,’ is all you can really say, breathing into the bottom of your spine like you help jinx practice when she’s feeling really overwhelmed. your eyes prick with tears and you duck to wipe them away. caitlyn allows you this, but when you get it together a little bit and lift your chin, she’s looking at you with curiosity and very distinct admiration, not pity or disgust, and you might start crying all over again. ‘i — sorry i waited to tell you, or whatever.’

‘there’s no need to apologize,’ she says, then frowns. ‘but did i do anything to make you think that might be a problem for me?’

you sigh and then gesture to the gorgeous, huge building across the courtyard. ‘your last name is on the library right there.’

‘ah.’

‘yeah.’

‘well, i am much more than my last name,’ she says, puffing out her chest a little in defiance, and very clearly you think i love you. it’s not the time, but you’ll remember it as the years go on. ‘and even with it, my mother has advocated for years for policy and programs to shorten or eliminate prison sentences, and social supports to decrease recidivism rates.’ you know this, objectively, but caitlyn’s mom might be the scariest person you’ve ever had to even think about meeting. ‘which i don’t think is nearly enough, by the way.’

she stops herself from going on a longer rant, turning to face you fully with a smile, a cold hand coming to brush the scar on your lip and hold your jaw in its palm.

‘i know you, violet.’ as simple as that. ‘would you like to tell me more about any of it?’

you don’t, not really, because you never talk about it if you don’t have to, but some of the things you experienced, things you were forced to experience, still color the worst of your days. so you tell her some of it, at least: how you were only seventeen but sentenced to an adult prison, with an agonizingly long six years of an adult sentence, for theft and assault felonies, some of which didn’t even happen. you tell her about how you had to ration food — she hums in some kind of present understanding; it dawns on you that she’s probably noticed you’re always hungry, that it feels an impossible feat to eat seconds, even if there’s plenty — and about how you were in a lot of fights. sometimes it was because you had to, to protect yourself, and sometimes it was just because you were angry, because you got the shit beat out of you constantly, because you spent at least half your time in solitary, because a scar through your brow or the needles and ink pressed into your skin was better than the horrible, terrifying nothingness. you got so, so strong because it wasn’t safe, physically or in your own mind, to be anything otherwise.

‘my sister is the only thing that kept me going, sometimes.’

cait sniffles, wipes her nose with a shy smile, a little embarrassed to be crying at your story, but you love her all the more for her empathy. ‘it’s clear to everyone how much you care for her.’

‘when i got out, she was — well, the details are hers to share,’ you say, not wanting to overstep. ‘she has some pretty severe mental health stuff, and it was bad. my dad pulled some strings and got me into the fire academy, though, and i was able to get a place for us to stay together and get her some real help.’

‘it seems, at least to me, like you’ve worked incredibly hard to build the two of you a really beautiful life, vi.’ when you nod, she leans forward to kiss you, softly and tenderly, a reassurance, an offering, a balm. ‘i’m quite lucky to be included in it.’

‘we’re lucky to have you.’ your voice is thick with tears but it’s worth saying anyway. ‘even if jinx is a brat about it sometimes.’

caitlyn laughs, unfazed.

‘that’s just her countenance,’ you say. ‘i’m glad you’re smart enough to not take it personal.’

‘i’m brilliant,’ she agrees, ‘even for a kiramman.’

you roll your eyes, groan appropriately. ‘hey,’ you say, squeezing her hand before you stand, your lunch time looming. ‘thank you.’

‘you must know by now, violet, that i am quite fond of you.’

‘i — yeah, i do. still, sometimes this — it changes things for people.’

she nods, assenting easily. ‘it only makes me care for you, and admire you, more, if anything.’

‘jinx is never going to let me hear the end of it if i’m actively crying when we walk in there, cupcake.’

caitlyn just laughs and pulls you in for another kiss. it’s raining harder now — you’ll have to dash through it — but the awning protects you for now, and there’s some kind of home in the warmth of her mouth.

#arcane #arcane fic #caitvi #i am tortured by vi's backstory in like boring real world scenarios? makes me want to scream #also acab!!! fuck prisons!!! cait isn't a cop here no way!!!! lol

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starrmazzy · 16 days ago

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writing jayvik is googling czech terms of endearment one million times and trying to create sciencey dialogue that sounds smart with zero knowledge to back it up

#literally free me from this prison how many ways can i possibly talk about schematics. what even is a fucking schematic i don’t know help #writinf czech pet names into my fic and praying that it’s correct fuck it we ball #arcane #jayvik #jayce talis #viktor

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starryeyed-spacegirl · 24 days ago

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As We Fall Chapter 55 "Prisoners" Has Dropped!

It took me a minute, but I finally scrambled all the time I had to get this thing out!

Next chapter will be coming as soon as I scramble the time for that one (I usually have very little social life, but this season is very people-y. But hopefully it'll be locked and loaded by the week's end!)

Love y'all to pieces!

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floofysmallbob · 6 months ago

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does anyone have any good fics where vi works for Silco and jinx was in Stillwater?

#idk I think it would be a cool concept #like silco finding vi after she ran away #that would be a great way to showcase silco’s manipulation #to be able to convince a girl who was ready to kill him to adopt him as a father figure #I don’t think they would be as close as jinx and silco though #but vi and sevika working together #obviously vi isn’t a tinkerer but imagine vi working for silco who can take out squads of enforcers with her fists #that would be sick #and a jinx who’s gone insane in prison cooped up with nothing but her hallucinations #who started going by jinx in Stillwater #because she firmly believes that’s what she is #that’s why she’s in prison #also like a begrudging friends dynamic between Cait and Jinx #also bonus points for caitvi enemies to lovers #like come on #and ACTUAL enemies to lovers would be nice for once #instead of mild dislike to lovers #which is still great #jinx working with Viktor #almost half of their prototypes aren’t allowed to be shown to the public because they’re covered in scribbles #hell I don’t know if jinx would be allowed to be shown to the public #also uhhh I wouldn’t mind some lightcannon #oh who am I kidding this is just my outline for a fic #I should just write this myself #ok google docs get ready for some word vomit #arcane #vi arcane #jinx arcane #swap au #arcane silco

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madameadelina · 11 days ago

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Okay, so, lesson learned.

I need to write more sesbian lex.

#random ranting #arcane #caitlyn kiramman #vi kiramman #vi #arcane fic #sesbian lex #ugh im still in the prison scene #lets go lesbians

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wavesofyears · 15 days ago

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Zaundads gang…, it’s not looking good. 😔

Only 9 hours left 🗣️‼️

Silco x Reader or Zaundads x Reader?

I just started a Silco x Reader fic but I am starting to feel the urge to add Vander into the mix. Especially because this fic takes place in the alternate timeline, I just feel like it makes more sense given their reconciliation and dynamic in that universe. I’m at a crossroads because I have already posted it tagged at a Silco x Reader fic and do not want to disappoint anyone who is reading specifically for that.

Please let me know if you’d prefer it remain a Silco x Reader fic or become a Zaundads/Vanco x Reader one instead (though I may just decide on my own anyway lol)

ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀

Link to the fic below if it helps you make your decision or if you’d simply like to check it out!

Accidental Acquisitions ˚✧⁎⁺˳✧༚

TYSM!!!

#save me from this prison of indecision #zaundads x reader #zaundads #arcane #fic #fanfic #silco x reader fanfic

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fictionalsweethearts · 12 days ago

Text

CONVENIENTLY CLOSE | VI X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: Seven years have not passed in vain, and the woman in front of you seems to be Vi's sign, but hardened by prison, stronger, taller, eager to live the lost years. And to see you again. Faced with old habits and the need for a place to lay low, Vi takes refuge in your apartment and stays conveniently close, maybe too close.

Contains: arcane!vi, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of arguments and dialogues, nsfw, explicit stuff, arcane universe, childhood friends, romance why not?, SESBIAN LEX

Word count: 6,780

Note: This fic was born from this bot which gave me juicy material to use here, part of the story arises from it, all credits to the creator!

Also, english is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

It happened in the blink of an eye, the fleeting eye contact, a chill running down your spine as you stopped to look again at who you thought was dead or gone. You paled like a ghost, barely taking a step before her arms were around you, and you let out a gasp.

You barely recognized the woman whose face buried in your neck; the toned arms, the network of tattoos on her arms, the gear on the side of her neck, the pronounced hairstyle and the piercings moved this Vi away from the one you once knew, seven years did not pass in vain and both had changed a lot, but the memories still endured. You wrapped her with doubtful arms, insecure but at the same time overwhelmed by the situation.

Your mind was flooded with memories the moment you dared to inhale the essence of her neck, that sweet aroma hidden behind the sweat and leather of her jacket, the same smell that crept into your nostrils on those afternoons on the couch, practicing boxing together, hiding in the alleys to avoid the poor victims of your pranks full of enthusiasm and malice. Of that last hug that morning, before the paths separated, life changed, Vander died and Zaun sank into chaos commanded by organized crime. Everything had changed but that hug brought you back to sweet adolescence for a few seconds, before you pulled away.

"For God's sake, you're... muscular." you murmured then, looking at the taller woman with attentive eyes.

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Vi's hands start to roam, finding their way over your shoulders. A smile appeared on her lips, the same thought kept repeating in her mind 'it's her, it's her'.

"It's an statement."

You could barely form a question in the face of such a situation, your childhood friend returning from a seven-year disappearance to stand before you in all her glory, alive, healthy, certainly different but still her nonetheless. At your sudden silence, Vi giggled, patting your shoulder gently. "Long story. don't wanna talk about it just yet."

You nodded, studying the Vi who was once four inches shorter and scar-free, realizing that wherever she was, circumstances had hardened her. “You were in prison,” you said then, not as a question.

“Surprise, surprise,” Vi muttered sarcastically. “I wasn’t dead. And i'll spare you the gritty details, cause I didn't exactly break out. I served my sentence, somehow."

She'd always had a habit of being vague, even during your childhood years. She never answered your questions directly, and she never explained herself when she got into trouble. It frustrated you back then, and it's no different now. "Enough about me. you're gonna have to fill me in. it's been like, what? Seven years?"

"Wait, I-" you had to shake your head and take a breath, cause suddenly having Vi before you wasn't among your plans. You were still at the alley. "Can we... go somewhere else? Grab a drink, talk this out?"

For a moment, she looks like she might refuse. For a moment, you wonder if she'll duck away, the way she always did. But then Vi sighs softly and nods.

"Lead the way, then." she takes a step back, folding her arms behind her neck. "I'm not payin', though.”

Gathering your thoughts and whispering a 'what a night' under your breath, you begin to lead Vi through the backstreets of a Zaun she no longer knows, but you do. Jericho served a wonderful octopus stew, and Vi was able to verify it once again after so many years. You sipped your cocktail, watching the hungry girl in front of you devour the plate, the Zaun market maintained its usual flow of customers and workers, a swarm of smells and sizzling of embers, murmurs, knives and pans to the fire filled the place.

"Now. You better start explaining how did you break out jail." you said.

The question doesn't come as a surprise - Vi had been expecting it. She sighs, and her eyes flutter up to yours, trying to find the words, trying to find the right way to say it. "I didn't break out. I served my sentence." she can see your skepticism, your disbelief, and she adds: "I got parole. Good behavior. That kinda bullshit."

"Good behavior. You?" you scoff.

"Yeah yeah, I was a saint, believe it or not. Guess I had a change of heart, people grow and all that."

"And now you're out and hungry." you comment, watching Vi finish the bowl and let out a hint of a burp.

"You gotta admit, the food behind bars is not so good." Vi grins at you again, her eyes flickering to your drink. "And the drinks either, care to share?"

Vi takes the glass, wrapping the fingers of her free hand around the base. She stares at the liquid for a moment, then her gaze drifts to meet yours, she's thinking, a lot. "Seven years... seven years is a lot of goddamn time. Almost don't recognize ya. What've you been doing all this time?"

"Let's see…" you say, your eyes scanning the market as you gather up seven years of your existence and rank them in order of importance. "I have a job, I'm… an interpreter."

"A what?" she asks, raising a brow.

"I translate, dumbass."

"Oh, right right." Vi giggled. "You work for the pilties, do you?"

"Actually, yes. I get many academic texts to translate."

"Ah, a sneaky rat. No wonder you'd take any job," she snickers. "I'd almost feel betrayed if you said you never went back to your old life of stealing and pickpocketing."

"I realized I couldn't lean on crime forever." you shrug. "Languages fits me better."

Catching up had never felt so necessary. Vi had undergone a true metamorphosis in prison, a wild flower torn from its roots and still able to cling to life with minimal water, in hostile, dry, cold soil. Now she was outside, eager to feel the putrid Zaun air against her skin, no matter how foul-smelling it was, to continue a life that hadn’t even begun yet. Yet it was the means that worried you.

"What's your plan?" you asked after a short moment of silence. "Now that you're out."

"Well, I gotta lay low for a while. They ain't gonna be lookin' for me out in the streets, but that don't mean I should be causin' trouble." her lips pull into a small smirk, as her eyes flicker to you. "Maybe I'll start robbin' the rich and givin' the profits to those in need. Or something like that."

"You'll get yourself in prison all over again." you said, rolling your eyes.

"What, you think I need you to lecture me, mother?" Vi's mocking tone couldn't help but annoy you. Again with that blind confidence and smug smile, hasn't changed one bit.

"Where are you staying?" you asked, sipping your drink which suddenly tasted bitter.

"Don't have a place. Can't exactly go back to my old apartment, for obvious reasons." her expression shifts into a smirk, a gleam of an idea passing her eyes. "Why? You offering a place to crash?"

"Huh, figured out so. You don't have a goddamn place to crash and still you intend to start robbing again?"

"It's not robbing, it's just taking something that some rich snob doesn't even need. Besides, I'll manage, alright?"

The conversation wasn’t going in the direction you expected, a sour feeling settling in your stomach as you recognized an old pattern that the years had accentuated in Vi; her stubbornness. It was one thing to be happy for an old friend who had gotten out of prison, but it was quite another to still believe that crime was a way of life and support that. And you were sick of that shit.

"I gotta go." you said, laying a bill on the table. "I have a paper to submit due tomorrow."

Vi's expression changed to as if she had been slapped. “Hey, I thought we were catching up. Where the hell are you going in such a hurry?”

"I'm happy for you, Vi, but I'm not who I used to be anymore. And neither should you be." you say, your tone so sober that Vi thought you were pulling her leg until she saw you get up from your seat and start walking away. Vi scowls and grabs the bill you left on the table, crumpling it up in her hand.

"Damnit."

Zaun had changed. It was no longer the fragile balance between misery and hope, but an overwhelming network of crime, wrapped in the growing business of Shimmer and prostitution and the certain tacit anarchy that ruled its existence. Vi needed a few days to get used to it, to recognize the city that saw her grow up and find a way to make her way through that melodious chaos. Crime had evolved, the presence of enforcers was increasingly scarce, which gave way to more aggressive, more experienced, more ingenious criminals when it came to benefiting from the few assets of the rest. In Zaun there were no rich people, only the owners of manufacturing factories, who pulled the strings and commanded drug trafficking, who could not be counted on more than one hand's fingers. However, Vi was not going to allow herself to feel strange in the city she called home, not before playing her cards and making her way into the market she knew best apart from crime: fights. With raw confidence and the certainty that seven years of training behind closed doors had given her the skills to hold her own in the ring, Vi went to the Pit and signed up for one of the night's matches. The result? A downcast and barely alive opponent, Vi claimed a spot she didn't intend to give up, and a bag full of coins. She felt right at home.

It took her three days to make a small fortune, yet her name was frequently whispered and attracted unwanted attention, putting her in a position where she had to remain low for a few days. She could keep that up long enough to make a living after seven years in confinement, but to do so she needed the hospitality and goodwill of someone in particular; you. You assumed Vi wouldn't incur in invading your precious privacy, but that wasn't the case. Not when, working on one of your latest translations, in the quiet of your apartment just a couple of blocks from the red-light district, you felt the fleeting passing of a shadow in front of the window and your alarms went off.

She had to admit, you'd picked yourself a nice little spot to settle down in. Vi could have sworn you would have moved to Piltover, after hearing about your choice of profession, but here you were, all cozy in a fancy apartment in Zaun. She couldn't be sure it was exactly safe, but you probably had ways to deal with that. A couple hours of lurking around in the shadows, and she found herself outside of your apartment window, looking in. Vi takes a moment to study the view through the window, observing your movements inside. She should probably announce her presence, but she can't help the little thrill that comes from the thought of spooking you.

Believing herself undetected, Vi stepped into the house while investigating what she thought was your office. A room cradled with an aesthetic chaos of shelves, books and plants, a kitten sleeping by the window, very self-absorbed in his feline dreams to recognize a strange smell in his safe space. But you certainly had better instincts than Pepper.

"Stop there or I'll blow your fucking head." you stated, holding a gun against Vi's head, not even recognizing her in the darkness of the room.

Vi's eyes widen as you suddenly speak, the cold metal of the gun pressing against her skin. She raises both hands in a small surrendering gesture.

"Woah, woah! Easy, doll, it's just me."

You remove the gun from her temple, realizing that it was Vi and not another petty thief. "For god's sake." you grumbled, putting the pistol down and turning the lights on. You were in your pajamas, messy hair and still glasses on from working for hours. "What the hell are you doing by breaking into my place?"

She responds to your question with a dismissive shrug. "I need a place to crash, darling."

"Oh, fuck off." you spat, quickly walking towards the desk to put the gun into the drawer again. Pepper woke up with a hiss, just then realizing a intruder was inside. He bristled. "Why would I? You got yourself in trouble, don't you?"

"Technically not trouble. At least, not yet." she glances down at the hissing ball of fur on the floor, and scowls. "You got a damn cat. Of course you do."

She averts your gaze, shifting awkwardly. "I need a place to crash. at least for the night. My place from... before ain't exactly available to me right now."

You can't help but let out a sarcastic laugh, holding your hands akimbo. "I can't afford to have tenants, you know? Especially not the troublesome ones."

"I ain't a tenant, I'm just asking for a sofa to sleep on for one night. It's not a big deal." insists Vi, her tone softening, just like her eyes. Gosh, no, not that look.

When it comes to Vi, you resistance diminished. It was the years of friendship perhaps, or the fact that this ex-convict with deep eyes and attractive bearing softened something inside you, but to tell her 'no' has been always difficult. Even now.

"Just for tonight?" you asked, as Pepper descended from his pedestal to sniff the boots of this new guest. He didn't liked what he smelled.

"Yeah, just for tonight." she hesitates for a moment, before a small smirk spreads across her face. "Unless you have a queen-size bed that I could fit in instead."

"You'd wish." you grunted.

While you were looking for a blanket for this unplanned guest, Vi studied the room she was in. Apart from the academic chaos that surrounded the desk, the rest of the room was tidy and harmonious. In front of the plum-colored sofa, there was a coffee table, on it a couple of books and a candle, along with what Vi soon recognized as a stash. The candle catches her attention for a moment, and her gaze flicks to the small pipe sitting on the coffee table. Interesting. definitely not the doll I remember.

Behind her, a large shelf stood, next to a series of windows that allowed the moon to sneak in, in addition to Pepper's pedestal, fluffy and scratched. The room was composed of green, purple and orange tones, the string of lights hanging from the ceiling gave it a cozy and calm air.

"Here." you said, handing Vi the blanket.

"Thanks." she mumbles.

"Stay away from my stuff, you hear me? And the booze as well, you drunkie."

A small scoff escaped her lips once you closed the door, and she shifts under the blanket, getting comfortable. She takes a moment, before her gaze drifts over towards Pepper.

"Watcha glaring at, ya little shit." She mutters, the corner of her mouth curving up again.

Vi didn't want to abuse your trust, but she couldn't help but inspect the privacy of your office the next morning. Her desk was really a source of curiosity for her, with that amount of trinkets, sheets, books and notes. The carnivorous plant next to them seemed to be watching her, as if she wanted to bite her finger off if Vi dared to sniff through the drawers. But she was an ex-convict and that was a fucking plant.

Inside the drawers were spread documents and bills, you earned quite well for translation, and many orders came from the science district in Piltover, or failing that, from the shimmer factories in Zaun. You made no distinctions, you just worked. This could not help but annoy Vi a little, working for drug producers was certainly not ethical, but a woman like her had no right to talk about ethics either.

Pepper's hiss took her out of her thoughts, the gray cat looked at her with the disdain and suspicion of a human. As if he knew of her past mistakes, of the fact that she turned to crime from a young age, that she was unable to protect Powder when she needed it most, that as soon as she got out of prison her life seemed to point to repeating the same pattern of crime she had grown up with. But Vi had to be wiser this time, play her cards right, break a cycle she was too accustomed to. She let out a sigh, grabbing her jacket before she left the apartment through the window.

Vi was a silent visitor during the nights, she preferred not to bother you since she knew that her ability to stay on the couch depended on the owner's mood, but you also didn't admit that you were starting to get used to and even wish for the presence of the pink-haired woman at home. First there were brief conversations under the cover of night, then a shared cigarette and an improvised dinner, then it was talking about aspirations and fears. Suddenly Vi felt as close as when you were both fifteen. But mischief no longer appeared as the main act of your interactions, but something else that certainly felt different, an unknown spark that was missing before and that made Vi so pleasant to look at.

Days went by, she came brusied and exhausted from her fights to just crash on the sofa and sleep her pain away. It's been two months with such dynamic and you accepted it.

Vi shifted on the couch, an unusual weight on her stomach saying good morning to her and soon, with sunlight filtering through the curtains, Pepper let out a feline complaint. The cat rested on Vi, naturally comfortable after so many visits from her. Sitting up, Vi studied the room and was surprised to see a lump lying on the desk in front of the couch, you had been up late working again.

“She’s going to work herself to death at this point.” Vi muttered, carefully pushing Pepper off her lap and heading to the desk. Vi knew about the constant commissions that rained down in a never-ending stream of work, but she’d also seen you falling asleep during the day, forgetting to eat, and the dark furrow under your eyes worsening. The woman sighed, gently pushing you off the surface to lift you up with ease, carrying you to your room. You mumbled something along the way, ineligible but akin to a complaint that did nothing but amuse Vi.

As your back hit the soft surface of the bed, your hands sought out Vi’s, pulling her along with you. The woman was initially taken aback by this sudden display of affection, you weren’t one to hug or seek contact, but you looked sick and tired and she couldn’t say no to a person in that condition. She snuggled up to you, running a calloused but gentle hand up your arm, burying her fingers in the strands of your hair. "You really ain't taking care of yourself, cupcake." mumbles Vi, cupping your cheek as her thumb gently stroked your nose.

And at the sight of you, your haggard face against the mattress, the sun streaming through the window and outlining your huddled figure, Vi found a new purpose, someone to protect. And as soon as you fell asleep, she got up, put on her jacket and headed to the only place she knew for sure would allow her to make some quick money.

“Black?” you asked, only a month later, holding the small bottle of black dye as Vi wet her hair in the sink. If Vi understood anything about street fighting, it was that a character was the best way to get the public’s attention, the attention turning into bets and the bets into money. For several weeks now, Violet had been arriving at the apartment late at night, bruised, exhausted and with a small bag of coins in her pocket. “For you, doll” the woman would murmur, barely taking the time to kick off her boots before landing on the couch and falling asleep. At first you thought it was just another risky business Vi was getting into, but after a couple of weeks you realized that the name “Vi” was whispered among the alleys and the market, and that she carried the title of undefeated for more than five matches in a row. She was a champion, no doubt about it, and the beneifts from her profession meant more support for household expenses. Suddenly Vi had become your partner, and all she asked in return was a good talk and for you to heal her wounds. And certainly you would do so.

A smirk crept over her lips at the sight of the bottle resting in your hands. "Yeah, black. I'm sick of standin' out. The pink's too bright." her eyes flick to you again, a mischievous look in them. "You're gonna help me out, right? I don't wanna make a mess of myself while trying to do it alone."

You looked at the little bottle of dye and then at Vi, knowing that once she gets an idea inside her head, nothing can erase it unless she tries it. You sighed. "Sit down," you said at last, reaching for the plastic gloves and the cup in the cabinet.

It took you a good hour, but together, you both managed to dye her long pink hair a dark, natural black. Vi's face had hardened, her scars and freckles seeming to stand out against her dark hair. It was then that, in the face of a silence that spoke volumes, Vi was the one to dare to say the first word. "Gotta say, doll. You did a good job."

"You look like you fell into a pool of oil." you said, clearly disapproving of the new look. Even Pepper, who stepped into the bathroom, hissed at Vi.

"Ah, so even the goddamn cat's against me now, eh?" she asked, making you let out a chuckle. The dye wasn't the only thing that changed Vi's appearance, she left the striped pants and red jacket at home, getting herself tight jeans, ripped at the knees, leather boots, a jacket of the same material, provided with gold studs and the print of a two-headed wolf on the back and covering her bust, bandages wrapped tightly. She looked almost unrecognizable, intimidating. Watching her grab her bag and head for the door that night, you couldn't help but feel anxious and think of the worst case scenarios.

You let out a sharp sigh and spoke up. "Vi, wait. You don't have to keep doing this, y'know? Fighting. I'm sure we can find another way."

Vi frowns at your words, her grip on the doorknob tightening.

"Nah, don't start with that." Her eyes narrow slightly, a touch of defensiveness in her voice. "I've always fought, y'know? it's what I'm good at. I don't know anything else."

"I don't want you to get hurt." you insisted, stepping closer.

"I know how to take care of myself, dollface. I'm not some weak little kid anymore." her voice is a little gruff as she tries to deflect the concern.

"You've never been weak..." you mutter, your expression softening as Vi hovered closer. "But you're not invincible neither."

"Yeah, well, who is invincible?" she takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. her eyes dart across your face, searching for something. "You worry about me too much, cupcake."

"You'd like me to not give a shit about you?" you inquire, looking into Vi's eyes.

she scoffed. "Yeah, i'd like to see you try." her eyes flicker across your face again as her thumb briefly brushes over your chin. A moment of silence passes between you, the room feeling almost charged as the two of you stare at each other intently.

Her proximity was electrifying, the smell of hair dye and grease filling your nostrils, her firm yet gentle hand on your chin preventing you from looking away, your field of vision dominated by her, by her light blue eyes, her scar on her upper lip and eyebrow, her straight eyebrows, her messy makeup, her dark lips. "I couldn't stop worrying, Vi. Even if I tried to." you whisper at last.

"Yeah, probably." she mutters, her voice a hoarse whisper. You let out a gasp as Vi leaned in to kiss you, a simple, almost shy kiss, but capable of wreaking such havoc on your insides that your heart began to pound.

She captures your mouth in a gentle kiss, her lips moving against yours slowly, almost tentatively, as if she was testing the waters. When you gasp in response, she deepens the kiss, her hand on your face moving to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. Her other hand moves to rest on your hip, pulling you a little closer as you feel your skin burning with an unexpected thrill. But you find yourself pulling back, a hand against Vi's chest.

"No." you whisper, exasparated, overwhelmed, as Vi's breath brushes your lips.

"No?" she repeats, her voice cracking slightly. Her hand remains tangled in your hair, the other still lingering on your hip, its grip having tightened. "You don't want me to keep going?"

"We shouldn't..." you weakly whisper. It wasn't just the kiss, it was about kissing a woman, and that woman being your lifelong friend. How much were you risking by crossing that line and delving into the taste of her lips and the firmness of her hands? God, you could barely explain it to yourself.

She pauses at your words, her grip on your hip loosening as she processes the conflicted look in your eyes. Her gaze drifts across your face, taking in every detail, as if trying to read your thoughts.

"Y'know..." a brief silence stretches between you, the only sound being the faint hum of the city outside the window. "We can stop... if you want."

Her hand slowly falls from your hip, and she takes a measured breath as she steps back, putting a short distance between the two of you.

You feel her slip away from you, backing away as a look of disappointment settles on her face and the glow of desire fades. You swallow. "I've never kissed a girl." you suddenly confess.

She runs a hand through her dark hair, visibly processing this new information. There's a moment of tense silence before she speaks again, letting out a huff. "I figured out so."

Your eyes widened, watching Vi taking a step back towards the door. "I should get going, there's a match I have to win." she says, leaving the apartment, leaving you confused, almost upset.

During Vi's absence, you couldn't find anything to distract you. As soon as you sat down for a moment to rest after feeding Pepper, tidying the living room, doing the laundry, heating up dinner or taking a shower, the touch of her lips flooded your senses and produced an almost unknown tingle in your belly. The smell of her skin, the gentleness with which her hand settled on your hip and pulled you against her. You couldn't stop replaying the scene, with some uncertainty if you were allowed to think that way about a childhood friend, or a woman. You only found some peace once you fell asleep that night, in the wee hours of the morning you felt an extra weight on the bed with you, an arm around your waist and an "I'm home, cupcake."

The next morning, you found the space next to you empty. You assumed Vi had fallen asleep on the couch, but her boots beside the bed and her jacket on your dresser said otherwise. You got up, hearing Pepper meowing in hunger from the kitchen. You barely noticed the overflowing bag of money on the coffee table or the sound of the shower running, only sleepwalking into the kitchen to feed the hungry cat. With the animal crouched before its bowl, you poured yourself a glass of water and only then turned back to the coffee table. “I told you I had a fight to win,” Vi said from behind you, watching you count the coins and bills in shock. The woman stood by the door, her hair still damp and a not-so-disguisable cut across the bridge of her nose, eyebrow, and cheek. “This is a bunch of money.” you muttered, studying the woman before you.

"Bets paid good last night." she nonchalantly replied, coming closer as she ignored the money. You were the center of her attention then, you and your robe. "I want you to take a break, alright? From your job."

"A break?" you asked, Vi's sincere smile speaking volumes.

"Yeah, for a while." she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, her touch surprisingly gentle. "You work too much."

Your expression softened, noticing the sweet gentleness which Vi treated you, how tender her eyes were at that moment. You couldn't help but lean against her touch. "About last night..."

Her hand cups your chin, her thumb gently grazing over your bottom lip. "You don't regret it, do you?" her voice is hoarse and low. Beneath her confident façade, there’s a hint of vulnerability in her eyes, a subtle fear that you’ll reject her.

"No." despite the inner turmoil, you couldn't regret it, not when you wanted more.

Relief flickers across her face, and that cocky smirk returns to her lips. "Good." her hand cups the side of your face, fingers lightly brushing across your skin, and she leans in to whisper against your lips. "Cause I’m gonna kiss you again."

This time it wasn't a fearful kiss, but deep and ambitious from the first moment, Vi pulling you against her and wrapping her lips around yours with a soft moan that only served to ignite a timid flame of desire that now sought to become a fire. You closed your eyes and dared to hold her cheek, testing a terrain unknown to you but dominated by her. She wanted to be gentle with you, to ease you into this new terrain, but her desire for you overpowered her self-restraint and the kiss quickly turned hungry and greedy.

"Please, just..." she whispered against your lips, a hand sneaking underneath your robe to grasp your waist. "Let's sit down."

Vi landed on the couch, pulling you closer until you were straddling her, taking possession of the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. You moaned against her lips, savoring every sensation as if it were a dish you’d never tried before but surprisingly tasted delightful and addictive. Vi smelled like shampoo, her lips were soft and her hands were calloused but gentle. One of them ran down your spine over your robe, and you stepped back to quickly remove it.

She kissed your neck, running gentle palms up the expanse of your neck and chest, shyly cupping one of your breasts before you pulled away to look at her. She understood the approval in your eyes, bringing her hands behind your thighs to hoist your hips so your chest faced her. You let out a sigh at the wetness of her mouth enveloping your nipple, a gentle, tentative suck that made you clench in a new way. “Fuck…” you moaned, at the same time as their hands massaged your buttocks and dared to slap them.

"I was waiting for you to start swearing." she whispered against your tits, one of her hands running along your spine before you felt the urge for more.

Your ass landed again, this time Vi’s knee between your legs as she kissed you again. You wanted more, you wanted to know what else could be offered by a woman whose experiences had hardened her character but were unable to sour her kisses and moans. Vi still had so much love to offer, and you knew she loved you, every action, every look said it. The way she made you breakfast while you dealt with endless loads of work at your desk said it, her banal conversations that sought to lift your spirits said it, her hands holding you as if you were physically a necessity said it, the bags of money resting on the table said it, and her bruises from brutal fights where her main motivation was you, said it. Vi always loved you, but it was only a matter of time before you realized it was a romantic affection, not a friendly one.

You were exasperated, your hips rocking as Vi pressed her knee into your core, a delicious friction that produced a pleasant, addictive tingle, your wetness speaking for itself. Vi gripped your waist tightly, setting the pace, watching you with attentive eyes and parted lips. You found yourself moaning against her lips, kissing her in fits and starts before you had to pull back for more. "You're so pretty." she whispered.

You leaned in for another kiss, before your hands went down to pull Vi's top off. The contrast was clear, Vi standing out for her muscles and roughness, the network of tattoos on her arms and back capturing your attention for a moment before you ran a hand over her chest. Discreet glances spoke, and the moans that indicated something was going (very) right. Vi patted your thigh before you withdrew from her lap, sliding your panties down gently as she placed a trail of kisses from your hip to your knee.

You felt self-conscious, Vi’s gaze seemed to take in every last detail of your body, from the bones of your hips, to your navel, to the pubic hair that covered your crotch. But your insecurity had no place in the eyes of a woman who simply wanted you for being you. “Don’t give me that look, you’re gorgeous.” She smiled, her hand settling between your legs as she probed your wetness. “Shh… just checking.” She whispered, her thumb gently circling your clit. “Does that feel good?”

"Yes..." you moaned, the suggestive wet noises making you shiver. "Really good." you spread your legs wider, giving Vi the consent to continue further.

You lifted one knee onto the couch as a finger gently entered and curled towards the nearest wall of your insides, giving you a sweet tickle. Vi studied your expressions, the way your breathing quickened and your hands rested on her shoulders for support.

"You're so soft..." she murmured, her own breathing labored as she continued to watch your expressions closely, seeking any sign of discomfort. "Tell me if it hurts." her free hand lightly stroked your thigh, a gesture of reassurance while she checked on you constantly, realizing your reaction came from sole pleasure and not pain at all. Soon enough she eased a second finger and a sigh escaped her lips as she felt you clenching around her.

"That's it..." she muttered against your mouth as she leaned in to kiss you, her fingers slowly working in and out of you. Her touch was gentle but firm, as if she was being careful not to hurt you.

Your knees threatened to buckle, the constant motion inside you awakened nerve endings you thought were inert, Vi’s ears searching to pick up your every grunt and moan. Her breathing quickened, before she let out a hiss and pulled her fingers away. A quiet whine escaped your lips and she took a moment to catch her breath. "Sorry... just a sec..."

Vi stood up from the couch, cupping the back of your neck to give you another kiss before gently motioning for you to lie down. "Lay back for me, cupcake." she whispered, finding a way between your legs as she trailed a way of kisses from your chest to your groin. There was a certain urgency to Vi's movements, a desire that made her breathing quicken and her fingers squeeze the flesh of your thighs as she parted them, skipping the main course in favor of running her tongue along the inside of your thighs, placing brief kisses and bites that allowed the blood to flow to your core, awakening your muscles, making you desperate for relief.

"Please."

"Shh, I've got you." she whispered against your skin, her voice a low and sultry rumble, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your inner thighs. "Patience."

You leaned your head back, eyes closing at the wet feel of her tongue as it ran up and down your core. She kept one hand firmly on your hip, the other on your thigh as she kept it apart. You moaned, looking down into a pair of lustful, delighted eyes, her mouth covering your folds, sucking and alternating with the tip of her tongue. Watching you, studying your pleasure, relishing on your sweet whimpers. “Fuck.” You moaned, your hips bucking slightly in search of more contact.

Vi's tongue worked you slowly and deliberately, mapping every inch of your core with a mixture of delicacy and desire. She released your hip and brought her hand up to your chest, her fingers finding your nipple and giving it a firm pinch. "That's it, just feel it..."

Her hand kneaded your breast as her tongue circled your clit, unashamed to make wet, suggestive sounds, to moan against your folds and to stop and look at you from time to time. She smiled, you looked splendid, needy but at the same time pleased, your cheeks slightly rosy, your lips parted, letting out moans and light gasps.

"Breathe, cupcake. I wouldn't want you to hyperventilate," she said mischievously, sticking her tongue out to deliver a long lick along the length of your core.

"Easy for you to say..." you panted, trying to catch your breath. Your mind was spinning, your body aching and desperate. But Vi had something else in mind, a way to drive you to the edge.

“Take a breath.” she whispered, pulling her mouth from between your legs to settle on her knees. “Look at me.” Vi caressed your thighs and moistened her ring and middle fingers with her mouth as you forced yourself to inhale and not exhale gasps of anticipation. Suddenly you felt her hand cup your chin, pulling you in for a kiss. You rested on your forearms behind your back as she inserted both of your fingers, twisting them in a specific motion that managed to draw a muffled whimper from you. It was sparkling, sweet, precise, and in the perfect spot. "Goddamn..." you whined.

"I know." Vi chuckled, kissing you again as the throes of an orgasm built in your lower belly and made your legs tense. "I know, pretty."

You reached a point where your thoughts were cut off, each and every one of them about Vi, her lips against yours, her fingers inside, curling and keeping a steady rhythm that did nothing but lead you down the right path to orgasm. You moaned into her mouth, pulling away to breathe once an electric wave shook every fiber of your body and your legs locked in an involuntary spasm. Vi rested her forehead against your chest, placing soft kisses as your arms cradled her head, yearning to be close to the person who was able to make you come so hard. Vi smiled, studying the way the pleasure settled into your muscles and your arms slackened.

"Good, babe, good..." she whispered, taking a look of your teary eyes before you pulled her to kiss her deeply.

You stared at the ceiling, the sun streaming through the window as your hands ran through Vi’s thick hair. You missed the pink, the dull black hardened her face too much. The boxer sighed, also processing the fact that she had just had sex with you and it had been wonderful from start to finish. This peace was new, it wasn’t temporary or fragile, it was latent, substantial, tangible. It was as if Vi had spent twenty-three years of her life searching for the calm that only lying on your chest gave her, and she couldn’t help but feel genuinely happy and satisfied. This is what life is about, not just surviving, but breaking down defenses and forgetting for a moment about being the strong one. You kissed her crown, Pepper climbed on the sofa and curled up between your feet and Vi's, purring calmly, like a lullaby.

"Looks like Pepper has finally accepted you." you whispered, making Vi lift her face.

"It was damn time. Just like her mom, stubborn as hell." she agreed, looking at the cat briefly before she nuzzled against your chest again. "He better get used to it, cause I ain't leaving your side anytime soon."

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eroscomet · 9 days ago

Text

Cellmate Prisoner 516

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Pairing: Vi x Prisoner!Reader

Warnings: Mentions wounds and violence (I think that's all.)

Word count: 2.1k+

A/N: Hey, lovelies! So, recently I finished Arcane and I immediately got to writing after finishing it. I'm thinking of releasing a Cait fic as well but i'll see how this Vi fic does first. I hope you guys like this, and i'm not sure if anyone else has done this idea yet. Let me know if you guys would want me to continue releasing chapters for this fic! If this is your first time reading my work and enjoy it, there's more on my page! I'm sorry in advance for any probable mistakes.

Proof read.

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Days in Stillwater seemed to blend for the inmates, especially those who knew they’d never return to normal civilization. The inmates had created a community there in the prison. It was rare to see inmates fight, most who did were newer inmates who didn’t understand that everyone in there had long accepted their fates. They weren’t willing to fight after they’d come to terms with the fact that they were to be bound by the walls of the prison for life along with the others. Why hold a grudge, right?

However, the lack of fights didn’t mean total peace for the inmates at Stillwater. Enforcers were often the ones who'd steal that peace that inmates tried to keep. If anyone were mouthy for even a second, it’s a beating with the enforcers that they’d face for it. Most were driven to stray away from having fights with the enforcers. There's a saying that goes around, you become the uniform you wear, whether it’s a prisoner uniform or an enforcer uniform.

That always stood, inmates knew their place and enforcers forced theirs. All but one inmate applied to this saying, inmate 516. The livewire, the undoing of the enforcers, the one with all the audacity. If not called inmate 516 by enforcers, most around the prison knew her as ‘Pink’, a name that she gained from the color of her hair. She had resilience, fight, a fire in her that never ceased. No matter how many times enforcers would beat her for her mouthy talk, it never stopped her.

She’d once roamed the prison on the higher levels where land and nature were still visible. Where the air she’d inhale was the same air as everyone else’s. The more she causes a commotion, however, the lower the level she’d be taken. She never stopped her ‘fuss’, so eventually she made it to the lower levels with the inmates who would never see the light of day or breathe fresh air from the outside.

Constantly being placed in new areas of the prison, different levels, different blocks, different cellmates. Anything to piss enforcers off, she’d always thought ‘If they’re getting a kick out of my misery, I can at least get one as well’. She lived by that in prison. Her previous cellmate had complained so much about having her as a cellmate that enforcers had finally had enough and moved her to another cell.

This happened to be your cell. Tidy, an organized mess, if you will. You didn’t talk much to the other inmates, only when you’d require trading for different materials. You had a knack for the creation of all kinds, sketching, building, and mapping. Pink, however, had a knack for destroying of all kinds, kicking, punching, training for whatever it was that she’d often mutter angrily about.

“Great, now I'm paired with Mute here.” She groaned as enforcers pushed her into the cell before shutting it. People in the prison had created a nickname for you since you’d never bother to tell them, Mute, they called you for your lack of speech. Which was a choice for you, after realizing that if you’d stopped speaking, people would simply assume that you were mute and wouldn’t have to bother with other inmates.

When she was pushed into the cell, you had momentarily looked away from the sketch on the cell desk. Your eyes met hers, anger was all that you could see in the glint of her eyes. She had a lot of rage, for a reason that you did not know.

“Don’t stare at me like that.” She nearly spat as she looked at you. Your expression hadn’t faltered as well as your gaze on the pink-haired girl.

“Whatever, at least this time I didn’t get paired with someone who can’t shut up.” She threw her pillow onto the empty cell bed before sitting on the edge of it. Your silence with the inmates at times caused a bit of a ruckus, not all were happy with the fact that you wouldn’t respond to their conversations or threats. Sometimes they resulted in a one-sided fight.

You never fought back, you felt no point in doing so as the inmates loved to bring along a friend or two to accompany them to their ‘fights’. They’d say they were teaching you a lesson by beating you up, a lesson you obviously never understood considering the fact that this often reoccurs with other inmates. You could feel her eyes examining your black eye as you returned your gaze to your sketch.

“Why do you let them do that to you?” Her voice seemed a bit softer and inquisitive as she spoke. You had paused for a moment before deciding to shrug and continue to sketch.

“Tch, why did I even bother asking?” Her words seemed more like a statement to herself than a question as she responded to your silent statement of shrugging, “That is exactly why, because you don’t speak. I can see how that makes people get all worked up.”

Her eyes averted from your black eye to the desk, watching your pencil move swiftly, “What’s this?” She asked curiously as she neared your desk, grabbing a gadget, you quickly swiped it out of her hands. She put her hands up in surrender as she saw you defensively hold the gadget to your chest.

“Hey, hey. I meant no harm, I was just asking.” She said with her hands still up. For a moment, you looked down at the gadget against your chest. You extended your hand and allowed Pink to examine the item. She recognized it as the headpiece of her little sister, Powder,’s grenades, the signature colorful drawings on the headpiece.

“Where did you get this?!” She asked, now with a bit of hostility. Your lack of response angered her as you extended your hand as if asking for the item back, and she quickly slapped it angrily. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, you'd expect it from the other inmates, but Pink? With the way that she is with enforcers, it shouldn’t be surprising but it was. You held your hand with the other as you brought it to your chest, still feeling the stinging sensation.

“What do you know about this?!” She asked, her voice momentarily faltered, barely caught by even your own ears. The way that you seemed clueless to what she was saying, gave her the answer she needed. She scoffed as she tossed the headpiece of a flame chomper to you. You quickly caught it in your hands, safely putting it under your pillow away from Pink.

“I’d get more out of talking to a wall.” She said with a scoff as she got into bed, shifting onto her side to face the wall.

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About two weeks passed since Pink had become your new cellmate. At first, she had been holding a grudge with you, giving you the silent treatment in return which you didn’t at all mind. You had always preferred silence. Eventually, she broke and began speaking to you, despite not hearing a word in return.

“I want to apologize for what happened a couple of weeks back..” She said as she continued punching the wall as she so often does, you’d taken note that this was a habit of hers to do every day. You’d gotten used to it quickly, assuming it was another ‘training’ thing of hers.

“It’s just that I recognized that piece—the drawings. My little sister used to make gadgets and draw on them. Bombs, particularly.” She said as she paused her punching, staring at the wall as she spoke. This made you pause as well, the headpiece of the fire chomper in your hand. Your finger had been lightly caressing the cool metal, looking over your shoulder for a moment as Pink explained further.

“I guess it triggered something in me. I'm not a bad person, " she said as she caught your gaze.

You stood up, padding over to her and gently grabbing her hand. You opened her hand and placed the headpiece on her palm before moving her fingers to close around it. After the action, you sent her a small smile, to which she responded with a surprised look.

“You really don’t have to-” She began to speak before you had moved her hand to her chest. You gave her a nod, to which she finally understood. She nodded in return, understanding that you were giving her the item.

“Thank you..” She said quietly and hesitantly. You nodded once more as you returned to your desk. The two of you were silent for a moment before she put the item into her pocket and began punching the wall again.

“Her name was Powder.” She said, speaking up after having punched the wall a few times.

“I don’t know if she’s alive or not but what I do know is that when I get my first shot out of here, I'm going to find her. Or at least the man who took her from me.” Her voice was determined like she had thought about this many times.

“That man..took everything from me. He. Will. Pay.” She said a bit more aggressively now as she landed a harder punch on the wall. You winced at the sound, knowing that if it were you punching the wall like that, it would’ve hurt but Pink seemed to handle it like it was nothing.

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Time with Pink in your shared cell felt a little less tense than your first meeting with her. She had gotten a bit more comfortable and you knew that from the way that she’d open up a little every once in a while with stories of her past. She talked of her father, whom she seemed very fond of from the way she spoke of him, she talked of her sister Powder a lot, small stories of memories when the two were younger that warmed your heart.

You’d see that she was a lot more cooled down, with fewer fights with the guards as well as reduced ‘training’, she now seems to only punch the wall a couple of days a week. Everything seemed fine until a new inmate arrived, a man who was bald with many tattoos that seemed to run through his entire body. You’d heard the news that Pink had beaten him up with a tray during dinner, breaking his jaw. When returning to your cell, she was smug but also seemed bothered by the situation.

She muttered to herself as she sat on the edge of her cell’s bed, “A week without leaving the cell, that’s what they gave me.” She said as she looked at you, her gaze was hardened. Your jaw is slightly clenched with a bit of worry for the girl.

“No meals, nothing. That prick deserved what was coming to him. He knew it from the look in his eye when he saw me.” She muttered with a scoff.

One of the perks about trading often with the cook at Stillwater meant special treatment. Often the cook gave you a bit of a better meal or something for dessert. For the next three days, you had snuck food back into your cell for Pink to eat.

“How’d you get this brownie anyway?” She asked with her mouth stuffed, you shrugged it off to no surprise.

“Any news on bald guy?” You shook your head in reply to her question. “Good, I hope to hear not a peep out of him after that.”

There it was again, the rage in her eye you had seen when she first came into your cell. She was angry again, more now that this man was in Stillwater. But you couldn’t figure out why.

“He’s a part of Silco’s henchmen. Dirty rat finally got caught.” She said with a scoff as she continued to eat. You hesitantly placed your hand on her shoulder, she looked up at you with surprise. She sighed as she paused, once again allowing her shoulders to no longer be tensed.

“Yeah, I know. He just..ticks me off.” You simply nodded to her words in understanding before gently patting her shoulder.

“Thanks anyway, for the food or whatever..” She mumbled as she continued to eat, you smiled softly before heading to your desk as you usually do. A bit of silence came over the two of you before she spoke.

“Do you like that they call you Mute here?”

You paused for a moment as you shook your head.

“Then why do you..not talk?”

You seemed to be in thought as you shrugged again.

“I'm not trying to be mean but maybe people would get off your case if you spoke. Can you even speak at all?” To which you nodded to her words, she only took a moment to examine your face which had healed from the black eye she first saw you with.

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A/N: Guys, let me know what you guys think. If you guys want me to make this a series or not, if it is, it might be a little bit of a slow burn, I will include the other characters later on as well. Thank you so much for reading, new readers can check out my works on my page. Everyone is welcome to request stuff as well!

#eroscomet #arcane #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #jinx arcane #powder arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #arcane netflix #netflix arcane #arcane show #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #powder

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weepinwriter · 1 year ago

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Road to Heaven is an 18+ Dystopian fic which takes inspiration from popular media like the “Shatter Me” series and “Hunger Games”. It may contain distressing content like major injury to the characters, character deaths, blood, gore, body horror, amnesia and optional sexual content. More specific warnings will be given at the beginning of each chapter.

You are inmate No. 1441, incarcerated in Tartarus, the most notorious prison on the continent. You find yourself imprisoned for a crime that you do not remember committing, leaving you in a state of uncertainty about your own identity and purpose. The first memory you have is awakening to the sensation of a gun being shoved into your mouth.

Within the grim confines of Tartarus, you have been branded as the most dangerous criminal, feared yet hated by both fellow inmates and prison authorities alike. It becomes clear to you that in order to survive and unravel the enigma of your past, escape from this formidable penitentiary is imperative. However, achieving freedom will not be an easy feat, as you must navigate treacherous encounters with some of the most malevolent criminals known to humanity. In your quest for freedom, you find yourself entangled in complex relationships with three significant individuals. Firstly, your cellmate, whose icy demeanor suggests a deep-seated disdain for your very existence. Secondly, your best friend within the prison walls, whose seemingly excessive friendliness may harbor ulterior motives. Lastly, there is the warden, whose overtly amicable nature masks a peculiar familiarity with your past. As you navigate the perilous labyrinth of Tartarus, your ultimate objective is twofold: to survive amidst the most notorious criminals and uncover the truth about your forgotten past. In a world where danger lurks at every corner, you must tread carefully, for the path to redemption and self-discovery is riddled with uncertainty and perilous choices.

Fully customize your MC. Choose your pronouns, sexuality, appearance and more. Take control of your interactions with the characters and experience the world of Elysium City through a personalized scope.

Romance one of the 7 RO’s, and if you are charming enough, fall in love with any two of them. The four possible poly routes available are: The Cellmate and The Friend, The Warden and The Master, The Protector and The Master, The Cellmate and The Rebel

Struggle against the evil that wants you dead and uncover secrets about yourself

Accept your identity as an Esper and rediscover your powers, or completely reject them

Master your ability of Conscious Manipulation and perhaps learn a few things about yourself unexpectedly

Choose to make allies within Tartarus or antagonize them. Your choices have consequences

Lead a dying rebellion against the Hightable or join them as an equal

There are a total 7 romance options, each with their own personality and a story along with dark secrets for you to uncover

Survive

1. The Cellmate [f/m] | Enemies to Lovers

Subject Name : Twenty

A palpable enigma surrounds the inexplicable disdain they harbor towards you, leaving you to ponder if your past misdeeds have sowed the seeds of their ire. Your questions remain unanswered, rarely do they grace you with a response, and when they do, it arrives veiled in hateful glares and a tapestry of venomous words. The origins of their animosity remain shrouded in silence, with fellow inmates mirroring their reticence. Only when they are complaining about the prison's wretched conditions and the Warden's despotic rule do they momentarily shed their icy facade, revealing hints of vulnerability and human emotion. When they do smile, albeit rarely, it is a fleeting moment of breathtaking beauty. If only you could find the courage to tell them that.

[ Number 1579 is an S rank Arcane Tendency Esper with the Cryokinesis ability. They are under Libra’s Jurisdiction, and thus only follow orders coming directly from them. ]

Other Tropes : Emotional Scars, Nobody thinks it’ll actually work, Hate Sex

2. The Warden? [m] | ???

Subject Name : Nikita

There is an uncanny familiarity surrounding him, leaving you torn between the unsettling grip of dread and the elusive allure of desire. He claims to know you personally. Apparently the two of you were close friends before The Incident. Yet, when you press for details, he skillfully redirects the conversation before your emotions can catch up. "The past is but a fleeting shadow," he says, "no need to talk about something that can't be changed. Besides, you wouldn't remember anything." Evidently your memories had been erased. The question of who hangs heavy in the air, but his response remains enigmatic, offering only a mirthless smile.

[ Nikita is the Warden of Tartarus, the Reformation Asylum in Sector 10, 8th District. He is under Scorpio's jurisdiction. ]

Other Tropes : Slowburn, Betrayal, Puppy play

3. The Friend [f/m] | Friends to Lovers

Subject Name : Victor (m.) | Vanessa (f.)

A compassionate and devoted companion, V. shines as a beacon of light in the desolate depths of this grim abyss that became your world. From the moment you opened your eyes, they extended a helping hand, guiding you through the labyrinthine complexities of Tartarus and easing your transition into this unfamiliar realm. Unfazed by the venomous whispers that tarnish your reputation, they remain steadfastly by your side, unwavering in their loyalty. Their warm smiles and whimsical wordplay serve as a balm, mending your wounded spirit after every bitter clash with Twenty. How fortunate you are to be blessed with such an illuminating presence, brightening the shadows that consume your existence.

[ Number 1339 is an A rank Catalyst Tendency Esper with the Illusion Manipulation ability. They are under Scorpio’s Jurisdiction. ]

Other Tropes : Partners in crime, First Love, Good people get good sex, Slight yandere

4. The Count/Countless [f/m] | Forbidden Romance (relationship history can be friends with benefits)

Subject Name : Emir (m.) | Evara(f.)

A remarkable visionary and an exceptional entrepreneur, E. stands as an unrivaled figure in the illustrious realm of Elysium City. Holding the distinction of being the youngest Grandmaster in history and amassing unparalleled wealth, they reign as the CEO of the renowned Quinn Industries. E. is adorned with numerous titles within the esteemed echelons of society, serving as an icon of inspiration and a beacon of hope, while simultaneously arousing envy in the hearts of many. An arrogant and proud individual, their ugliness is conveniently covered by their astonishing fortune, combined with innate brilliance, seems almost mystical, as if destined for greatness from their very birth. Within Elysium City's grand social tapestry, few possess the persuasive prowess to sway the decisions of the Hightable itself, yet E. stands tall even among this select few. As an eligible bachelor, their daily inundation of love letters and marriage proposals is a testament to their allure. And yet, amidst all this splendor, it is you who has found a place of interest in their extraordinary life.

[ E. is a part of The Senate and thus does not fall under any District's jurisdiction. ]

Other Tropes : Belated love epiphany, Billionaire, Power play, Daddy/Mommy kink

5. The Master [f] | Forbidden Romance

Subject Name : Leo

In her calculated pursuit, you find yourself ensnared. Your allure captivates her discerning gaze, for you possess what she desires most. You are the coveted object of her desires. In this strategic game, you are but a pawn, a possession within her calculated grasp. Yet, curiously she maintains a measured distance. Her reason? She eloquently articulates, “Witnessing the growth of one's possession is a fascinating phenomenon.”

[ Leo is the Master of {DATA REDACTED}. They are the Ruler of the 5th District. ]

Other Tropes : Secret Identity, Second Chance, Blood play, Begging

6. The Protector [m] | Bodyguard Romance

Subject Name : Caesar

A battle-hardened soldier, Caesar bears the scars of a lifetime spent serving the FAE and the city. With an intimacy unparalleled, he has danced with mortality on numerous occasions, making death a companion rather than an adversary. Yet, behind that facade of strength, Caesar is a fractured soul, haunted by insecurities and a self-destructive nature. His journey, filled with shattered dreams and the weight of his daughter's aspirations, has brought him to the edge of despair. The immortality he once embraced now feels like a curse, a harbinger of misfortune that has become synonymous with his presence. In his eyes, he sees himself as not a protector but a bearer of ill fate. However, the stars, in an unexpected alignment, have granted him a final purpose: to protect you. Beneath the intimidating exterior lies a gentle giant, yet one plagued by a profound sense of self-loathing. He grapples with the belief that his very existence is a catalyst for tragedy, a vortex that draws calamity toward him and those he holds dear. Intrigued by this complex guardian, you see the duality within Caesar — an attentive and understanding individual burdened by the weight of his own perceived malevolence. As you navigate through the intricate layers of his psyche, perhaps you could help him ease his suffering, even by a little.

[ Caesar is a registered S rank Endura Tendency Esper with the Regeneration ability. He comes under Leo’s jurisdiction. ]

Other Tropes : Beauty and the Beast, Single parent, Stop calling me daddy

7. The Rebel [f/m] | Enemies to Lovers

Subject Name : Gael (m.) | Gwendolyn (f.)

You betrayed them. Or perhaps it's the other way around? You do not remember. The trust you once held dear has been shattered, and now you must face the price for your misguided beliefs. Like a fool enchanted by deceit, you must bear the weight of your choices. Remember this lesson, for betrayal's toll is a heavy one to pay. Proceed with caution, lest you become ensnared in the web of your own treachery.

[ There is no known information on this individual. Extreme caution is recommended. ]

Other Tropes : Amnesia, Revenge, Redemption, Breathe play

Links

[ DEMO ]

[ PINTEREST ]

[ THE DISTRICTS ]

[ THE HIGHTABLE ]

All asks and reposts are welcome 😁!

#current wip #interactive fiction #if game #interactive game #hosted games #twine game #interactive novel #dystopia #if intro #thriller #road to heaven if #upcoming if #twine wip #no demo

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