#even when he left he still cared for vander

[xetlynn]

season 2 claggor x fem reader maybe they get caught making out?? thank you for keeping the tag alive 

of courseee and thank you!!!<3

Arcane Imagines- Claggor

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Summary: in which you and claggor get caught in a lil steamy moment.

“We’ll see you guys later!” Powder and Ekko wave goodbye, leaving our home to go out on a well-needed date. Claggor, Mylo and you tell them to have fun and enjoy themselves. You bring your legs up on the couch, playing around with your necklace. “Welp, this is boring. I’m leaving.” Mylo stands up, grabbing his jacket. He doesn’t even say anything when walking out the door.

 

Claggor and you turn to one another before chuckling. “We have the house to ourselves it seems.” He smiles. The corners of your lips doing the same movement. “What should we do?” You ask, holding onto your knees. The two of you had recently started dating after being friends since you two were children. You were raised by a close friend of Vander’s and Benzo’s. You had grown close with the others, especially Powder, being best friends. Claggor was her older brother and it felt weird to go after him but then he pursued you. It was kept a secret from the others and still is. You didn’t know how to tell Powder you were dating Claggor at all. Not knowing how to bring it up. 

“Want to cook?” He proposes and you purse your lips, shrugging your shoulders as if to say “why not.” He stands up from his chair, going over to you to help you up. 

You lead the way to the kitchen. “Pizza?” You tilt your head, opening the fridge. “Sounds good.” He hums, getting the cutting board out along with the flour and oil. You grab the cold ingredients. 

“I hope it turns out better than when Mylo did it.” You comment, throwing the stuff on the counter. Claggor laughs, “I don’t think we’d have the skill to catch the pizza on fire and only burn the inside.” He shakes his head, remembering when Mylo woke everyone screaming that there was a fire. “Fun times.” You whisper. 

You leave the room momentarily to put on some music before joining back. “Alright, let’s start.” You roll your sleeves all the way up to wash your hands before actually touching anything. Claggor had already done that when you left the kitchen. 

The two of you start off together before you get distracted by the song that came on. Dancing around the room, pretending to smack your boyfriend’s butt. He didn’t mind taking care of the pizza, this usually happens when you cook. In the middle of it you’d get bored or distracted by something small. Forgetting about the ingredients on the counter. 

“Alright, did you preheat the oven?” He asks suddenly, already knowing the answer though. You forgot to do it. Your arms drop to your sides with a frightened expression. He bursts out laughing. “It’s okay, babe. I figured you wouldn’t have.” He kisses your forehead and you frown. “Rude.” You cross your arms and look away. “But true.” You mutter. He gets the oven started and you both watch it heat up, leaning on the opposite counter. 

“Sorry.” You say sadly, upset that you can’t have the pizza sooner. “It’s okay, I promise.” He snorts, pulling you into his chest, hugging you. “I’m so hungry.” You whine, tugging on the chest of his shirt. 

“Same, but it’s only going to take a couple minutes.” He says, but right as he says that the oven dings meaning that it’s done heating up. He lets me go and you  open the oven door for him as he grabs the pizza and sets it in. Shutting the oven. 

“Set the timer.” He points over to the tiny little timer next to the oven on your side. You set it to twenty-five minutes, clapping your hands after placing it down. Since you two had some time you decided to go back to the couch and cuddle for a little bit. You were snug between the cushion and partly on top of him. Legs tangled together. He pets your head as you stare at the coffee table. Only thinking about how good his fingers feel on your scalp. 

He stops after a couple minutes, staring down at you. “You’re very pretty, y’know.” He compliments, you lift your head to look at him. “Really? Say more.” You tease making him snicker. “I could compliment you all day.” His hands travel down to your waist, rubbing up and down. “I’d love to hear just a few.” You cross your arms on his chest to rest your chin on them. 

“You’re very smart even though you get easily distracted.” He begins and you pout. “Not off to a good start.” His body shakes under you with laughter. “Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes. 

“You are incredibly kind, I don’t understand why. Kind to people who don’t deserve it. Also just beautiful. Your inside matches the physicality and not a lot of people can say the same.” He tells you. “So nice on the eyes. More than nice. I love admiring you.” His hands start to get lower and lower on your back/ hips. “An amazing kisser.” He raspily says when his face gets closer to yours. 

“You think so?” You hum, eyes flickering between his lips back to his eyes. “I know so.” He pecks your lips. You slowly move your legs so that you are straddling him now. You butt right above his crotch. 

“Let’s make sure I’m truly right though.” He sits himself up a little more and kisses you. 

You moan into the kiss, lips cushioning one anothers. You press further onto him, gripping his shirt for dear life. “Mm, you drive me crazy.” He musters taking a small breather before getting right back to making out. His tongue licks your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You open your mouth allowing it. 

He takes it and battles with your own tongue. Going back and forth not even noticing the fact that the front door opened. 

You move his hand from your back down to your ass before bringing your own hand to the back of his neck. Not wanting to let him go. He grips your clothed flesh. You pull a little bit on his hairs on the back of his head on accident, getting a low groan in response, vibrating your lips. His free hand is holding you tightly by your waist. Making sure you were right against his torso. 

You do it for another time to take another breather, but really it was because you wanted to do something more. “Wow!” A voice laughs from the corner of the living room, startling you both. You jump off of Claggor. “In the family room!?” Ekko grips onto his stomach with laughter as Powder was trying to bite her own giggles. Claggor and your faces flushing tremendously. “I- sorry.” You put your head down, not believing that neither of you heard the door open or close. 

“We already knew about you two, don’t worry.” Powder puts her purse on the hook. “You guys made pizza?” Ekko excitedly asks, heading to the kitchen. 

“It’s not… done yet.” You say, not understanding why they’re home from their date not even an hour into it. “Oh can’t wait to eat it then.” He chuckles from the kitchen. Powder smacks her brothers back, plopping down on the couch. “Have fun there, didn’t ya.” She teases him. He rolls his eyes. 

“[Name], you okay? You look mortified?” She asks me and you turn to her, blinking slowly. “You knew?” 

“Of course we knew, you two are not discrete… whatsoever.” She smirks up at you. “And you just let me think you didn’t know!?” You cry out, hiding your face in your hands in embarrassment. “Mm I knew you’d tell me when you wanted to or I’d “find out” like this.” She uses finger quotations then does a hand motion to the room. 

“At least we don’t have to hide it anymore, babe.” Claggor stands up, rubbing your back. “Doesn’t stop the shame I am feeling right now.” You turn into his chest, still hiding your face. 

“Bleh, babe.” Powder mocks, playfully gagging. “Oh you can’t be talking, sweetie.” Ekko sits down beside his girlfriend and you turn to see her face turn red. “Shut up.” She looks away. 

[milkbean69]

My thoughts on the Yandere Arcane Au

Tw: sorry y'all not good at writing yandere, yandere content

Okay before we get started we need to talk about what this universe of the undersity looks like pre- time skip. Honestly I think that this univers had a lot more progression in term of revolution and a lot less shimmer. Also considering the fact that Vander and Silco were able make up after Vi's death makes me think there was a lot less bloodshed between the two over the years. I mean of course silco when and found the note vander left but the fact that the crew is all laughing and partying together means there has to be new layers of loyalty amongst the crew caused by Vi's death.

Yandere's Vander and Silco:

OH GOD!!!! These two I swear, I honestly feel like in terms of protectiveness Vander would actually be worse. I mean he watched Vi die in the attack so you have that. He would not want to lose another.

If Vander was a platonic yandere, yeah no, your never leaving the Last Drop without him ever again. The trama he has from Vi is crazy. But if it was a romantic situation, he would be a little more lenient.

Now for platonic yandere Silco. I feel like a lot of protectiveness would come from a place of guilt and attonment. I mean his actions killed Vi during the pre-timeskip in this universe and he is probably still feel's guilty for that despite the fact that he has been forgiven.

So I feel like bring a young obsession or kid into the mix, would make him feel like he needs to make amends for what he did. Not only to prove to himself but for the others aswell that no other will die under his care.

Now them as a pair, would go crazy platonic or not. We need to remember something the two are brothers and the the pillars of the undercity. So the levels of communication and partnership are already there. There abilities to unite people would probably be where a lot of the Yanderness of the crew starts to fester. Always having someone with you, eyes and ears all over Zaun, and generally not being fucked with or else you'll have two of the powerhouse's of Zaun on you doorstep.

If this was romantic, they would share, God damn it. I don't know what it is but they would share, I just know it. You would be the king/queen of the Zaun in Silco's eyes, Vander hates it because he feels like if bring to much attention to you. Your always with on or the other. Silco defininatly spoils you, I mean you know he would.

Here me out, I feel like they both also have some fears from what happened to Felicia, so that definitly are supper on edge all the time because of that. One of both of them had to have liked her romantically, I was felling the vibes during the flashback.

Okay but I feel like they would be worse than the adults, in terms of platonic yandere's. Like we saw Vi's death really fucked them up. You would 100% be the Vi replacement. Expecally if you were older than them.

With Powder , it would be the worst. She wouldn't be violent, but more manipulative in certain ways., 100% a guilt tripper. Then would rope the other into it as well. Saying things to you about how you remind them so much of Vi, and there protection is just so you don't end up like her, so you should never leave them.

You probably wouldn't go on jobs, mostly saying in the last drop with Vander and Benzo. Maybe they let you go into Piltover, but you are always with someone. But never in the more dangerous parts of Zaun that have yet to be changed, and you still got to worry about the grey. the wouldn't want ther baby breathing in all that polluted air.

With a younger obsession, your never leaving there sights again. Even if you were a year younger than them, your getting little siblinged so hard. They have so much more experience now and realize all of the thing they did as kids was dumb and dangerous. They probably teach you how to fight just in case they are not there. But that is unlikely considering how mother hen they all are. If you ever when parkouring like they used to in piltover you would get an earful.

Powder and Ekko would make you little trinkets and gadgets. They'd make things to lure you in and bribe you. Or to love bomb you when you complain they are being to overprotective.

They would be so affectionate. Powder and Claggor the most, we all saw that scene with Claggor and Milo during the dance. Honestly I feel like Milo would be affectionate in the annoying older brother way, like ruffeling you hair and picking you. Ekko would be affectionate when you inationating it.

In tems of duos we would have Claggor with Milo and Powder with Ekko. Milo is the one to tease you alot, but he means well. He probably thinks he's the funnies guy on the planet, when in reality it's probably Claggor. Milo seems like the more aggressive on in terms of yandere's. He is the jokester character but see seems more scared that something might happen to you. That make him more aggressive and paranoid. While Claggor is more level headed and perceptive, but don't be mistaken, he has build and is the stronger of the two

Between Powder and Ekko, Powder is the one you need to worry about. She lost her older sister, Powder was the youngest of the group, so in her mind she is kind of filling Vi's role as older siblng, and must protect you like Vi did her. Should someone try to hurt there darling, Powder is the impulsive one but Ekko is the deadlier one between the two. Ekko is calm and more laid back, but he seems like he has the patience to go in for the kill on the first strike. Silent but deadly.

Now with romance, there all into you, sorry not sorry. I actually don't think they would have the company to share a darling. Powder and Ekko, maybe? But Claggor and Milo, definitly not. Milo would be that last to realize that everyone is pinning after the same darling, there all pretty perceptive so it wouldn't take them long to figure it out amongst eachother.

You would never have any partners, they would scare them all away. Powder would be the dustrusstful one spreading seed of dought anytime someone would flirt with you, saying there not good enought for you. Ekko and Claggor would be the intimidating ones, Ekko has the deadly glare while Claggor has the build to scare off any potital suitors. Milo is one of two, he is the one who likes to claim you already taken, usually with him saying he's you boyfriend, or the physical aggression type. He will get kind of pissy wanting your attention kind of annoying the person flirting with you. Then maybe ruffing the person's up after they leave your earshot so you don't see.

They would all try to one up each other in there own ways Claggor is the more laid-back type and lenient of yandere, so he would milk you needing to escape from the other craziness. Powder is clingy type and needs to be near you always. Ekko seems like the silent type, always lurking in the shadows, the man always has his eyes on you and knows where you are. Milo seems like the possessive and aggressive. Not aggressive in the, I'm going to hurt you type of way but someone else for looking at you the wrong type of way.

No matter who you end up with its going to be messy, I'm sure of it.

[pixieswashere]

First off, I agree with everything with what OP said here. I want to also add onto this that it makes no sense for AU!Jinx/Powder not to have her mental illness/psychosis, not only bc of the fact she had it since she was a child....but also bc in that universe.....Vi is dead...like SHE IS GONE. If anything the trauma and psychosis would still be there, if not worsen overtime.

Like at first when I started it, I didn't think much thinking that in this universe she had professionall help in coping with it healthily.....but then the Vi reveal and the fact we didnt see her having some hallucinations or voices is what ruined this......her ONLY last remaining family to her parents and who was very close to her clearly...is DEAD. Jinx loved her sister so much and had a mental breakdown as a kid when she LEFT her to go and find Vander. The only person who was there that BELIEVED in her, STUCK up for her, and practically raised her along Vander. You're telling me, Jinx wouldn't have any slightest of a breakdown or crisis over that??? At all??? Even when considering her mental state???

Adding to this for Viktor (bc I love him and I 100% agree that his character was fumbled)

Viktor NEVER hated himself in s1 let's get that straight. In S1, he makes a very big POINT to show that he has always carried himself and that in whatever he does, he is proud of it because he believed in himself enough to accept who he is and DOESN'T care about what others think of him

"When you're going to change the world don't ask for permission."

"I didn't have the benefits of a patron or a name, I simply....BELIEVED in MYSELF."

You could argue that while yes he is self-assured and confident, he still has some insecurities of how people close to him perceive him....and that could be true, but it's not really ever alluded. He DOES care about making connections but hes isolated himself bc of these judgements that its almost second nature if not a rarity. But he does value companionship, its just not something he is accustomed to a degree, and he sometimes without consideration distances himself from it if it gets in the way of his aspirations (Ex: Sky/Jayce, Heimerdinger/Singed.) In the latter acts of S1 he was DYING he wasn't hating himself because of his "terminal illness" that was killing him or his disability....He was in a vulnerable and solemn state because he felt like his accomplishments meant or achieved NOTHING. This is a character that is selfless, altruistic and a workaholic who worked his way up with dreams of something better and now after so many years in developing Hextech he's seeing that what he strived to achieve for the improvement of his home that's also DYING because of Piltover's ignorance and oppression, is unable to do NOTHING about it now.

He is angry that he has no CONTROL over his fate and the assuredness of his Legacy = helping those in need for the Undercity because of Jayce and Piltover's lack of understanding, especially after they had complied building the Hexgates for their trade disputes first.....over the disputes of lives. Viktor has contemplated death because he knows time is fleeting and he wants to make it count for something good, he doesnt want to be remembered as PERFECT, he wants to be remembered in the contributions that the people of Zaun will FINALLY heal/be helped after so long and not have to live short lives bc of unsafe work environments, manual labour, illnesses cause by toxic chemicals and etc.

He even brushes the idea of when he'll die off, and you could even add that he is ticked off by the fact that hes now being perceived as a "dead man" before he even died (Ex. Heimerdinger convo and Jayce in the hospital, etc). He doesn't like being seen as powerless or as his terminal illness now because he ISN'T and never was. Furthermore, he doesnt use the Hexcore to "PERFECT" himself, he's using it to heal himself of his terminal illness/expand his lifespan so that he can continue his research in helping Zaun.

If he is going to use Hexcore, he needs to make sure that it will work. So, to tests its capabilities, he tests it on HIMSELF. Only to find out that the same thing he created to HEAL ended up killing someone that meant a lot to him. He wasted NO TIME telling Jayce to destroy it bc it harmed someone and he finally realizes that ensuring a legacy = saving people....ended up at the cost of harming people in return.

P.s. sorry this was long. Hope you enjoyed reading it if u did !

I don't have perfect thoughts on it, but I do want to note that I'm not loving how Arcane handles disability.

Viktor hating his disability so deeply, feeling that it needs to be "fixed" so thoroughly, that he succumbs to ~ultimate eugenics for everyone ~ ?????? fucked up

Jinx's psychosis being a manifestation of her being "unhinged" and encouraging her to act out either to challenge or appease them, and then her psychosis magically disappearing in the "perfect" universe????? also fucked up

Vi's alcoholism and (albeit mild) psychotic symptoms never being brought up....ever???? just created as fodder to make her a more angsty and submissive lapdog to facism????? also also fucked up

Let me have my mad/cripple characters who have their shit recognized as parts of their humanity rather than trauma porn plot or things that need to be corrected or traits indicative of rash violence please

[thesheriffandthebrawler]

finally speaking up regarding the final words vi said, her whole character arc this season and how things went for her in the final act and same goes with caitlyn.

to be honest, i have been struggling to enjoy the representation because personally, my wow, representation! can either apply on the piltover’s finest finally being canon on screen and being oppressed as a zaunite for me. if caitlyn becoming a dictator scared me during the first act, vi saying “i am the dirt under your nails, cupcake. nothing’s gonna clean me out.” surely left me devastated.

for me, this wasn’t vi assuring caitlyn that no matter what she does again, no matter how dirty her hands get again, vi will always be there for her—or maybe it also is. in the show, no one is there physically and mentally holding back vi anymore, the only person left and she believes who knows her deeply here now is caitlyn. her only family died in that ‘explosion.’

unfortunately, given their different classes, vi still looks at herself as something that caitlyn shouldn’t be proud to have. it makes me sad that she genuinely believes she is nothing but a dirt, an oil, a nuisance, a zaunite, or a lower class—way beneath than caitlyn’s tiled floors on her house in piltover even if she climbs back up to her actual title in the game which is becoming an enforcer. it wasn’t a sweet promise, it was ‘self-awareness’.

even if she stands in the land of piltover, the fact that she knows she truly belongs nowhere boggles my mind. they never gave her character depth in this season, either. if you see vi, she’s either with jinx, with caitlyn, or struggling to breathe normally without thinking about the both of them.

what happened to her when she was imprisoned for how many years? surely, not only her fighting skills were enhanced in that place. did we see how she was struggling to accept how every single one of them changed? powder, ekko, and now caitlyn. no matter how things got progressively worse between the two seasons, she remained the same? vander was still clearly a threat at the end of the battle, there was not a single percent of chance of getting to save him from his state, but she still kneeled beside him and believed that he could go back like she once did. it was devastating to see her resort to becoming a pitfighter, but it was more devastating to see that her worst rock bottom was only compiled in a montage. not much was given for her character to be explored once again. how can we ever throw a perfect opportunity for a character’s story like vi’s to be understood?

“you’ve got a good heart, don’t ever try to lose it. no matter how hard the world tries to break you.”

but perhaps, this truly was the whole point of vi’s character. she has been really selfless, it doesn’t matter what kind of chaos the narrative is going to bring to the table. she has been taught to fight well and she will always use the same tactic for it. if her visible bruises doesn’t seem to bother her throughout the whole show, it must be saying the same thing about how she’s been actually doing. she would only beg to differ once it includes the people she cares for. if that’s the case, the show really showed that to me, but.... man, i want to give her a hug.

[rins-rambles]

Silco kept his drinking glass, while Vander left his with a letter for Silco in the mines. But Silco never went back.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hey chat...

I literally have so many scenarios in my head it's killing me

Could you do a scenario where the reader shields Isha from the blast (or whatever) which results in her on the verge of death. How will jinx deal with it? And how will she save her

(I'm trying to cope with the loss of my baby Isha 😞💔)

Sure! Here ya go but probably sucks, haven’t wrote one of these in a while! Enjoy!

Heading photos made by @diana-foggy-master !

Sacrificial

You could only process what the girl was thinking when her small feet started running past you helping Jinx off the ground.

The familiar act was so hard to miss. It was like watching Powder all over again all those years ago the night everything went wrong.

You couldn’t handle it again.

“Jinx? Jinx- I’m so sorry.” You apologized to your lover on the ground. Jinx looked at you, confused with her face having splatters of blood drops. But she was so confused. What were you sorry for?

It only clicked when she saw you running after Isha into what she knew she would never get you back from.

“No- no!” Jinx cried out, getting up with the look of horror on her face when you ran. She tried reaching for you like you did her all those years ago, only to fall short. She lost you.

She lost you before you even got to the girl.

Isha was right within your grip, tears falling from your face as you knew you wouldn’t be coming back home to your lovers and your bed.

“Isha!” You yelled, reaching for her as she kept running, shoving gemstone after gemstone into Jinx’s gun.

“(Name)! Isha! No!” Jinx cried, trying her best to get to the both of you as Isha slid to the ground, moving just like Jinx taught her to as she finally got to Vander.

Jinx was caught by Vi, crying and blubbering as her heart and chest constricted at the thought of you leaving her with her mind.

What was she gonna do? She couldn’t fix this once it was done.

Isha had barely mimicked Jinx back at her, the little finger gun motion breaking your head. Isha wasn’t dying. This wasn’t how she was gonna say goodbye.

Isha lifted the gun to Vander, and by the look on his face as he saw you nearing you could tell he had no control over this. Just like back then.

Isha had barely closed her eyes, and you saw the smile on her face. She looked almost content to die. Like it was a release. You felt bad for taking it from her.

She barely pulled the trigger when you grabbed her, pulling her to your chest and curling around her.

Isha’s eyes shot open, panicked for a split second as she tried to push you away and out of there. But you were older. Stronger. The way you wished when you were younger to be like Vi.

You barely managed a smile to Isha as you held her, and even years later she could still hear your voice and see your smile as you whispered in her ear.

“You’ll be okay. Take care of her for me, will ya?”

The gun went off.

And you were gone.

The reaction was immediate. Isha didn’t feel you anymore. She was cold, your arms around her gone as she finally opened her eyes after praying to whatever god there was that you were okay.

Nothing.

Not anything of you was left behind.

All she heard was Jinx’s wailing, and her little heart dropped to her stomach at the realization.

You were gone.

Because of her. Isha took you from Jinx.

“Isha! Why- why would you do that?!” Jinx cried, even though she knew you’d hate to hear the words coming from her mouth but she couldn’t stop herself.

She pushed Vi off of her, running to Isha out of relief and anger as she searched for you to come up with nothing.

She grabbed the girl by her shoulders, crying and blubbering as she sobbed.

“Why would you- (Name)?! (Name)!” Jinx cried, yelling it out as she searched for you.

Isha had no idea what to do with Jinx’s anger but cry with her as she felt your absence.

Jinx wasn’t able to process this, and Vi could only watch as the one thing her sister held dear to her heart from when they were kids, you, was gone. Just like that.

Jinx’s sobs turned to wails as she felt her heart being ripped from her chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

You were supposed to be okay. Vander was supposed to come back. They were supposed to stay and be happy. Vi could even be there.

Jinx had her family back, and now it was all gone.

Her wails kept going, she gripped onto Isha cause she would be damned if she let her out of her sight for her to be taken to.

Her head fell to Isha’s shoulder, the girl's cries mixing with her own as Isha’s little fingers gripped onto her.

Jinx and Isha crumbled together on the floor, crying and sniffling and sobbing. What happens now? What comes next?

How can anything come next…when you’re gone?

[dissapointu]

Arcane characters with a blind s/o

Jinx

• Jinx is incredibly protective of you and loves guiding you around places, sometimes making it playful by pretending to be a tour guide or joking about bumping into things.

• She’s extremely attentive to your other senses, always making sure to speak in a way that makes it easy for you to understand what’s going on. When you’re both out and about, Jinx will describe things in a colorful way, sometimes going overboard with the theatrics.

• She loves to hold your hand, leading you to new places, and she’ll make sure that you’re always safe, even if her way of doing that is chaotic.

• When she’s feeling emotional, she’ll reach for you, needing your touch more than anything. She’ll never let you feel left out of her world.

• Jinx likes to give you tiny surprises, often in the form of little gifts you can feel or hear, like a new music box or a soft scarf.

Vi

• Vi takes extra care to be gentle and patient with you, often guiding you with her hands, and she’ll always tell you what’s happening around you.

• If there’s something new or unfamiliar, she’ll make sure you feel confident and reassured. Vi knows when to speak up and when to remain silent, letting you focus on the sounds around you or her touch.

• When you’re with her, she makes sure you feel like you belong, making it clear that your blindness is just another part of who you are, not something that makes you different in her eyes.

• Vi will take you on long walks, talking about the sounds, smells, and textures around you. She enjoys your company, making sure you’re included in everything, from the quiet moments to the chaotic ones.

• She’s also protective, especially in crowds, and will hold your hand a little tighter when she senses you’re feeling uncertain or vulnerable.

Sevika

• Sevika’s protective instincts are heightened when she’s with you. She’ll be gentle with you but firm, making sure you’re safe and comfortable at all times.

• She speaks to you in a calming tone, letting you know what’s going on around you, but she never over-explains, knowing you’re more than capable of figuring things out for yourself.

• At night, Sevika likes to hold you close, keeping you warm and ensuring you feel safe with her. Her presence is like a wall, and she makes sure you feel grounded and secure.

• When you two are alone, Sevika will encourage you to take the lead on things like touch or conversation. She likes listening to you and watching you grow more confident in your own abilities.

• Sevika will also pamper you with small gestures, such as making sure the room is organized in a way that makes sense for you, or rearranging furniture to accommodate your needs.

Silco

• Silco has a quiet, patient demeanor when it comes to you. He’ll talk to you slowly and deliberately, never rushing or sounding impatient.

• He appreciates your calm nature and doesn’t mind taking the time to explain things that might otherwise be overlooked. Silco enjoys holding conversations with you, and when you ask questions, he answers thoughtfully.

• When he’s with you, he makes sure you feel important and heard. He won’t baby you, but he’ll show you how much he values you by ensuring you’re always included in his plans and decisions.

• He’ll sometimes guide you with his hand, gently holding your arm or wrist, and it’s clear that he values your independence but still wants to provide comfort.

• Silco loves quiet moments with you, perhaps enjoying a drink together while he explains something, giving you space to listen to his voice and absorb the information.

Vander

• Vander’s nature is protective and gentle, and he’s always making sure you’re safe. He’s the type to walk beside you and speak in a soft tone, letting you know where you’re heading or what’s around you.

• He’s great at describing the world in a way that appeals to your other senses. Whether it’s the feel of the weather or the sounds of the city, he makes sure you never feel left out.

• Vander likes holding your hand and guiding you through crowds. He’s the kind of person who will stop whatever he’s doing just to make sure you’re okay.

• He’ll also make sure your home is cozy and organized to accommodate your needs. He’ll often ask how you feel about certain things and always take your preferences into account.

• At night, Vander enjoys cuddling with you, his big arms offering a sense of security, and he’ll always be there to listen if you want to talk.

Ekko

• Ekko is incredibly thoughtful and innovative when it comes to your blindness. He’s always trying to find creative ways to make things easier for you, from using his inventions to assist with navigation to setting up systems that help you get around more easily.

• He has a deep respect for your independence, and he’ll never push you to accept help unless you ask for it. But when you do need assistance, he’s there in an instant, offering both emotional and physical support.

• Ekko loves to take you on adventures, helping you explore new places and always making sure you’re safe. He’s a bit like a walking tour guide, describing the world around you in such vivid detail that you feel like you’re experiencing it yourself.

• He’s not just protective but also very affectionate. Ekko is a huge fan of holding your hand or resting his arm around you, and he enjoys simply being close to you.

• He’ll often seek out opportunities to teach you things, using his intelligence to help you understand complex concepts or mechanics, making you feel included and respected.

Jayce

• Jayce is protective but also aware of your need for independence. He’ll offer his arm or hand when you’re walking through unfamiliar places, but he’s not overbearing, always mindful that you want to be as independent as possible.

• He’s great at making you feel comfortable, providing clear descriptions of what’s around you and helping you navigate through life. Jayce is also excellent at using technology to help, offering innovative solutions that make your daily life easier.

• He enjoys quiet nights in, where you’re both just talking or listening to music together. He loves describing the intricacies of different sounds, from the hum of his machines to the calm of the outdoors, helping you connect with the world through your other senses.

• Jayce’s affection comes in the form of touch; whether it’s a gentle hand on your back or him wrapping his arms around you, he makes sure to give you comfort and love through his actions.

Victor

• Victor is incredibly patient and soft-spoken with you. He takes the time to explain things and will make sure you understand the world around you through other means, often focusing on sounds, textures, or smells.

• He enjoys sharing knowledge and will often teach you about his work or other topics, but he’s always considerate of your learning pace.

• When you’re with Victor, he’s very hands-on in the most comforting way. He’ll guide you gently but never rushes you, always giving you space when needed but never leaving you to feel alone.

• He enjoys moments of calmness, where you’re just sitting together, either in silence or chatting quietly. Sometimes, he’ll let you feel the prototypes he’s working on, letting you experience his world from a tactile standpoint.

• Victor’s love language is gentle touch, and he’s not afraid to hold your hand or offer a reassuring touch when he senses you need it.

Caitlyn

• Caitlyn is gentle, thoughtful, and loves to include you in everything she does. She always makes sure to describe what’s going on, from the scenery to her daily activities, so you never feel left out.

• She’s incredibly intuitive and can tell when you’re feeling unsure or uncomfortable, offering her arm for support or just staying close to offer a calming presence.

• Caitlyn enjoys quiet moments with you, whether it’s reading aloud to you or simply sitting together while you listen to music. She loves making sure you feel connected to the world around you, even if it’s not in the way most people do.

• When you’re out in public, Caitlyn is always by your side, offering to guide you or carry things for you, but she’s careful not to be overprotective. She knows you’re strong, and she respects your independence.

• She loves holding your hand and giving you subtle touches of affection, and she’s very good at picking up on your emotional cues, making sure you feel loved and understood at all times.

[band--psycho]

Sevika x Fem!Reader - Before Things Changed

So this is based off a request from @arevik2345 who requested an enemies - lovers trop with Sevika; but I decided to change it slightly to the lovers -enemies - lovers trope! (So don't worry there will be at least 4 parts to this series)

This is my first Sevika story so please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Requests are still open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you all for the continued support!💛

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Sevika Masterlist / Arcane Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Warnings: Overthinking!reader, mentions of loss, smut, fingering, overstimulation, dominating!Sevika, edging (18+)

You knew Sevika was angry, you could feel it radiating off of her even when the two of you arrived  home. 

You didn’t agree with what she said to Vander, about him being weak; but you understood why she’d said it.

Having the Enforcers down in the Lanes was making everyone uncomfortable. 

The disrespect the Enforcers showed everyone down here was horrible, but it wasn’t Vanders fault, the Enforcers were just arrogant shitheads. 

You also knew that Vander meant what he said, when he said that he would protect anyone in the Lanes; he wasn’t just protecting the kids because they were his kids, he was protecting them because they were from the Lanes.

Though you did have to admit that you could see how people were coming to this conclusion. 

“Don’t you think you were a bit harsh to Vander?” You asked Sevika softly from the sofa, watching as she grabbed a bottle of alcohol from the cupboard. 

“No,” Sevika answered bluntly, taking a large swig of the drink before sitting down next to you. 

A soft sigh left your lips as you shuffled slightly in the seat so that you were closer to her. 

“He’s just trying to do what he thinks is right,” you countered back, grabbing the bottle from Sevikas hands and taking a few sips of it before handing it back to her. 

“He’s wrong,” she stated bluntly, taking the bottle back from you

“He’s just trying to protect us." 

Sevika let out a small scoff at your words; as she turned to look at you, “You agree with him?” 

You did. 

Vander was your friend. 

You trusted him

Besides, you weren’t a fighter; not like Sevika..

You didn’t like the Enforcers, that was a fact. 

But you knew what another uprising meant. 

It meant that there was a risk of losing people you cared about…

It meant that you could lose Sevika. 

And you didn’t want that. 

So no, you didn’t want the uprising to happen. 

Did that make you a coward? 

Probably. 

But you didn’t care. 

You’d already seen enough death, suffered enough loss, that the thought of losing her, made your heart feel heavy.

“You know what happened last time…” you began, reaching out and tentatively stroking her arm, your eyes meeting hers, “I just don’t want to lose you.”

You watched  as a small grin grew on her lips as she placed the bottle down on the table beside her. 

“You worry about me so much, angel,” she hummed, savouring how delicate your fingers felt on her skin as she leaned in closer to you, “But you’re never gonna lose me.”

You wanted to believe her words; and put this down to your mind just jumping to the worst case scenario as it so often did.

But this wasn’t one of those scenarios. 

And no matter how much you wanted to trust the woman in front of you, you couldn’t. 

She was a skilled fighter, but that didn't make her untouchable. 

Your thoughts were halted when you felt Sevikas lips softly kissing up your arm.

“Sev, what are you doing?”

“Getting you outta your head,” she breathed, her lips trailing kisses up the side of your neck.

You hated how she could do this. 

How she could distract you from your thoughts with such ease. 

“Just relax, baby,” she whispered, her lips now only inches away from yours; as she ran her other hand under your oversized tshirt and up your chest to your breasts, “let me take care of you,”

 it was almost embarrassing how easily you complied with her orders. 

“Sevi,” you whined in response, laying back on the sofa,  the anticipation of her touch making your core ache with desperation. 

You needed her.

Needed her touch. 

Her lips. 

Something. 

Anything. 

You were so desperate for even the slightest touch.

It was all you could focus on. 

Sevika was all you could focus on; your thoughts and worries from earlier drifting further to the back of your mind with every blissfully torturous touch she left on your skin. 

“That’s it baby, just focus on me,” she praised, noticing how your body was squirming slightly beneath her, a clear sign to her that you needed more. 

“So needy,” she smirked with satisfaction. 

She’d barely even touched you and you were already a mess. 

She knew what she was doing to you; and she couldn’t help but revel in it. Revel at the little noises that were falling from your lips with every little touch she left on your bare skin; revel in how fucking beautiful you looked right now, with a look of desperation forming in your eyes.

Sevikas hand, the one that had been on your chest was now slowly drifting down to the place you craved to be touched the most. 

Even in the dimly lit room, you noticed a twinkle in her eyes as her thumb softly massaged your swollen clit. 

You could’ve cum just from that single touch alone; and you almost did, until Sevika quickly withdrew her hand from you. 

There was no denying that Sevika found it addictive, seeing you like this. 

But she needed to see more. 

That’s why she made such quick work of effortlessly removing your panties and oversized shirt  from your body, tossing them aside, so you were completely naked beneath her. 

She couldn’t take her eyes away from you; she was just staring at you, completely captivated. 

You opened your mouth, to beg her to just touch you; but your words morphed into a loud moan when she pushed two fingers inside your dripping pussy. 

You attempted to cover your mouth with your hand, but Sevika made short work of pinning both of your hands above your hand; her fingers pumping inside you at a relentless speed, ensuring to hit your sweet spot every time. 

“Need to hear you, angel,” she whispered in your ear before lightly biting the crook of your neck, eliciting another moan from you. 

You’d lost track of how many times you came. 

All you knew was that it was enough times to make your head feel all woozy. 

But Sevika didn’t stop; she just kept going. 

She kept pushing you over the edge again and again and again.

“Sev-Sevi-”you panted as you came down from another high, “I can’t-”

Sevikas pulled her fingers back to the entrance of your pussy, her thumb (unbeknownst to you) hovering over your clit once again. 

“Awh have you had enough, baby?” She teased, kissing the side of your mouth, flicking your sensitive nub with her thumb lightly, “I think you should be a good girl and cum for me again.”

You were so far gone; lost in the bliss of your countless oragasms, that you couldn’t deny her. 

Especially not when her fingers started pumping in and out of you again. 

Her words mixed with the fast pace of her fingers in conjunction with the occasional taps on your overstimulated clit, had your back arching once again.

“Sevikaaa fuck,” you moaned as she sent you tumbling over the edge of your own pleasure.

“Such a good girl,” Sevika praised against your skin, before placing a delicate kiss on your lips as she removed her fingers from your core. 

“So beautiful,” she whispered to you, making a tired chuckle fall from your lips. 

Beautiful? 

You were certain you looked a complete and utter mess. 

Despite your thoughts, Sevika just continued to whisper those words to you, as she pressed her lips over the bite marks on your neck as she laid next to you on the sofa, your legs intertwining with each others.

You were completely and utterly exhausted and you could feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep, but you fought to keep your eyes open and yourself awake, desperate to give Sevika the same pleasure she’d given you. 

But when you went to touch her, she lightly grabbed your hand, halting your movements.

“Sevika-”

“Shh, just relax baby,” she muttered, pulling you closer to her. 

“But what about you?” You whispered softly as your thumb rubbed small circles into the back of her hand. 

“This was about getting you to relax,” she stated, nuzzling her head into the crook of your neck. 

You could’ve argued with her; but one, you knew that was going to be like fighting a losing battle and two, you were too tired to disagree with her. 

It only took a few minutes for sleep to take a hold of you; meanwhile Sevika was still awake. 

She understood your worries about another uprising; but things were getting out of hand now and someone had to do something about it, to protect the Undercity. 

Sevika thought Vander was that man, until tonight, now she doubted he was, which meant she needed to find someone who could do the job Vander couldn’t do. 

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @barbersjoy @conretewings @the-lone-librarian @cass-brightwood @fortune-fool02 @arielpanda1 @mothratic @simping-ella @stickyrice5096 @levis-butterfingers @lesbianinyourarea @vvampirelust

[animeshotsh]

In every universe? | JayVik x Kid!Reader

Notes: ANGST - Timeline is messy as hell but i dont care - Fake with me that Jayce and Viktor finds Kid!reader earlier in terms on time - ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE - Character death - Grammar mistakes - S2 SPOILERS -

Alternative universe of this series

"But why do you have to stay mom?" A young voice asked Jayce who was mumbling while writing.

"Mom's has to work" Viktor softly said petting the youngest hair seeing as Jayce was too focus on the equations to even respond back.

"But, the lab at the Academy is bigger" You said again trying to understand why your dear parents have been working at home more and more.

"This is a sectet project Spark" Jayce responded turning to look at you, a soft tired smile on his face "And you must not tell anyone about it"

"Not even Heimerdinger ?"

"Specially not him" Jayce nodded to himself then to you and Viktor "I will pick you up from school and we can get some ice cream, deal?"

"Yes!!" You responded way too happy

"Alright, we must go if we dont want to be late, I have lectures to give" Viktor reminded both of you, passing you your bag and giving Jayce a kiss, "See you later"

"See you two later"

"Bye mom!!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The old beautiful house and lab was now a memory, a horrible explosion replaced it.

Two bodies were found, one from a girl from the old undercity and the other one was Jayce's body.

From that event the division between the cities started to shatter and a new one was born. The place was left untouched, like a memorial of the event that caused the union.

But that for Viktor and you was never enogught.

That day you stayed back at school, Jayce had no showed up so no one could get you. It was almost night time when Skyler did appear with a sour look, you were confused but went with her.

You ended more confused when she took you back to the Academy, a tired Heimerdinger went to you rubbing circles on your back.

Then you saw your dad, Viktor was sitting in front of a cold tea, his hands covering his face. When he hear the footsteps he looked up to see you.

His look, his golden eyes were reddish now, it was all you needed to understand that something terrible had happened.

He got you in a warm and almost possesive embrace, more cries could be hear from him as he hugged you and said multiple times how sorry he was.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Its that day again, right?" Powder asked you giving you a drink as you nodded

"Yeah...Dad is, well he is still working and going but this day just makes it all more difficult"

Powder nodded knowing it was the same for her and the rest.

"You know, it never leaves" She started, repeating what Vander had said all these years back "You just learn to live with it"

~~~~~~~~~

The visit to Jayce's gravestone never got easier, Viktor swear he path got longer each time and his leg pulled him back more and more.

"Dad?"

Your voice broke his toughts, obscure ideas once more, what if in another universe the three of you got to live? See the city change together? Make it a better place?

He knew he was playing with dangerous forces but....but he was sure he was close, close to open a gate to a different place, one where Jayce was still alive and with him, and you were with them, growing and being brillant.

"Im coming Spark" Viktor softly called, the vision of Jayce's gravestone was a reminder that no, not in this universe.

In this universe Jayce Talis was dead, and he was going crazy without him.

[whoreforsexymen]

Strong Drinks & Broken Links 🍺⛓️‍💥 CH. 1

Gray Hair & The Absence of Care

(Gif creds: me <3)

Pairing(s): Vander x Reader

Pronouns: GN!Reader (for now— please see this post for details)

Rating: SFW, except for strong language and consumption of alcohol (drink responsibly, people). Reader is old enough to drink, despite what Vander thinks.

Word count: 4.7k (the rest are going to be far longer, so be prepared)

Tags: Slowburn, Reader is implied to be 21+ years old, Age Gap, Heavy Use Of Language/Alcohol, Reader might be a little too angsty (I’m sorry), Tense Situations, Vander being the caring mentor type he is but in a poorly thought out way.

Notes: I don't think I've ever posted a fic on this account. So, welcome to my only outlet for the brain rotting obsession I have for this man. ALSO I SWEAR TO GOD NO ONE MENTION ANYTHING ABOUT SEASON 2, OR I'LL FIGHT YOU.

((If any of you want to be added to a tag list for this fic, please lmk!! Ask box is also open for requests/suggestions/comments 🤍 feedback is always appreciated 🤍🤍))

It had been a terrible night so far.

Not only had you been shortchanged more than two-thirds of the agreed-upon pay for a job you’d completed—but that paltry sum had quickly slipped from your grasp entirely, taken by a gang of thugs.

You had to give the undercity credit—it had an uncanny ability to remain a perpetual cesspool. You’d managed to take down two of the muggers, but the third—the one who’d made off with your coin—had slipped away while you were dealing with the others. Just your luck. The payout had been pathetic to begin with, and now you were left with nothing but the bitter taste of failure. It looked like you’d be scraping the dregs of the city to find enough for your next meal, yet again. 

That is, unless you decide to drink your dinner. As well as your sorrows, in the process. The idea struck you as you neared the central bar of the undercity, still sulking as you were making your way back to the shack you called home. The Last Drop. A name that said it all. If there was any place where the undercitizens of Zaun gathered, it was here. No doubt the owner had to be the wealthiest man in the area, though that wasn’t exactly saying much in a place like this. 

You made your decision. A warm meal might be out of reach, but liquor could suffice—if you drank heavily enough, that is. Or at the very least, it might dull the sting of the night’s failures. 

The bar was an eyesore, a hulking building among the rundown structures of The Lanes. A garish neon sign blinked above the entrance, buzzing like an angry fly, casting sickly light on the grime-streaked pavement. Inside, the din of loud music and the clatter of drunken chatter spilled into the street. It was a haven for folks with any background, no matter if they sought business or pleasure within its walls. 

You pushed through the door, noting how no one even bothered to glance your way. That was how you liked it—under the radar, always out of sight, always out of the mind of untrustworthy beings. 

Then again, you didn’t trust anyone anyway.

You duck and weave through the crowd of rowdy patrons, eyes scanning the bar for a table or booth at which you could hunker down and nurse your drink in peace. Your frown deepens beneath the hood of your jacket when you come up empty-handed. Typical. No matter, though. You’d have to order at the bar anyway, regardless of where you sat.

It’s when your eyes settle in the direction of the bar that luck seems to briefly shine upon you—there’s an empty stool. Without hesitation, you make a beeline for it, not wanting some drunken fool to snag it before you could. You practically dive-bomb onto the seat, landing with a small grunt, air knocked from your lungs. After the night you’ve had, this stool feels like an oasis, despite the new absence of oxygen beneath your chest. You settle into it like it’s the only thing left in the world, clutching the seat as if someone might try to commandeer it if you let your guard down low enough.  

The realization dawns on you that, in order to get a drink, you’d have to interact with the bartender. You hold that fact in high regard with contempt. 

Chit-chat? Not tonight– or truthfully any night. You’ve never been crazy about casual conversation. The events of the evening have only soured your mood further, and the last thing you need is some eager bartender trying to make nice. Normally, you’d avoid sitting at the bar for that reason alone, yet here you are.

Thankfully, the bartender pays you no mind, his attention fully set on the patron he’s currently tending to. That is, until said patron leaves and the barman finally turns to you, his new source of focus. 

The sheer momentum with which you rolled your eyes almost knocked you out of your seat. 

“Welcome to The Last Drop. What’ll it be?” His voice is deep, and heavy, garnering a thick accent that clung to every word. 

He’s an older man, though exactly how old is hard for you to pin down. His hair’s gray, his eyes tired, the lines of age having etched themselves into his face long ago. However, there’s something youthful about him—something that makes it hard to tell whether he’s an old-looking thirty or a young-ish fifty. Frankly, you don’t care enough to continue your mental evaluation of him. Age shouldn’t matter when it comes to bartenders. They either know how to pour a decent drink, or they don’t.

You don’t waste time with pleasantries.

“Something strong.” You mutter, your voice mostly flat, but with a hint of irritation that danced along the edge.

The bartender scratches at his graying beard, his gaze thoughtful as he considers your request. You grit your teeth, hoping he won’t try to scam you by giving you something weak and overpriced, just to line his pockets with your hard-earned coin. You’d seen it happen to others, and you’d be a damned fool if you let it happen to you. 

The bartender studies your face, or at least what he can see of it beneath your hood, before his gaze shifts to the shelves beneath the counter. After a moment of deliberation, he selects a bottle with thoughtful ease, pulling the cork out with his teeth. With his free hand, he grabs a tin cup and pours in a copious amount, sliding it toward you with a swift flick of his wrist. You’d almost call it a generous decision on his part, considering the fact that you hadn’t even paid your dues first. His choice to serve you first goes a long way in easing your suspicion, at least for the moment.

You dig into your pocket, retrieving the few gold coins you’d managed to hold onto when dealing with the aforementioned thugs. They weren’t enough for one measly meal, but they were enough for a drink or two– or three, but who’s going to keep track? Certainly anyone but you. You’d only stop once your pitiful wealth ran out. Without a second thought, you toss them onto the bar top, making it unspokenly clear to the bartender that you were hoping for much more than just this one drink. You grab the cup, lifting it to your lips and downing the lot of it in one quick, greedy gulp. The warmth spreads through you almost immediately, and it feels like a small victory over the obnoxious turn your night has taken.

The bartender watches this with a faint chuckle before you slam the empty cup back down onto the counter. He takes it without a word, refills the tiny tin chalice, and begins passing it back. Without missing a beat, you grab the cup from him, draining the contents in a second gulp before he even has time to set the bottle back down. 

“You look like you’ve seen better days,” he remarks casually, his voice low and steady as he finally reunites the bottom of the bottle with the countertop. 

“I’ve seen a lot of things.” you mutter, your eyes fixed on anything but him. The words come out flat, though there’s a weight to them. It’s more than just a refusal to talk—it’s a refusal to let anyone look too closely. You avoid eye contact like the plague. Eyes, after all, are the windows to the soul. And letting someone peer through them is a risky gamble you’ve never been apt to take.

You were clearly beyond uninterested in the beginnings of this conversation. The lack of willingness to be friendly reigning clear as you shove the tin cup towards him yet again. He grabs the empty cup and refills it once more—your third drink in under five minutes. He seems reluctant to hand it back. He maintains a grip on it as he eyes you again, this time much more thoughtful.

“Care to chat about it? Might be healthier than drownin’ yourself at the bottom of a bottle,” he offers plainly.

You give him a sidelong glance, not even trying to mask the edge in your voice. 

“Doesn’t sound like a good business strategy, encouraging your paying customers to cut back.” You fire back quickly, the sharpness of your words outpacing even your annoyance at the unwanted conversation.

The bartender chuckles again, a spark of amusement flickering in his tired eyes. There’s a glimmer of understanding in his smile—maybe he’s seen more than a few like you in this dive. Or maybe, he knows in the same fashion as you, that sometimes it’s more palatable to fill the silence with alcohol than with words.

“Fair point, but I’d prefer to keep my patrons alive. Helps me sleep at night, y’know?” The bartender shoots back, his eyes fixed on you, all too curious about what’s hidden beneath your hood. The conversation quickly turns uncomfortable, a painful reminder of why you’ve never liked bartenders—they always talk too much and ask too many personal questions. As far as you’re concerned, they should stick to the charade for the sake of their regulars, and leave all unsuspecting customers alone. 

The momentum of yet another roll of your eyes causes your head to bob ever so slightly— your hood creeping back towards the line of your hair. The new, incredibly subtle, view of your face made the barman clench the cup in his hands with rigor. 

His eyes narrow slightly, the amusement fading from his voice. 

“Where’re your parents, kid?” He asks, his voice low and in demand of an answer. 

The question hits you like a slap, and for a brief second, you find yourself caught off guard. You’re not someone who’s usually thrown by imbecilic remarks from the residents of The Lanes, but this one? It’s different. Not just the audacity of asking such a personal question, but the clear assumption of your age being made so boldly. 

Your head snaps up, and before you can stop yourself, you push your hood back, breaking your own rule about eye contact. Why? Who knows. Today has already gone off the rails, and you’re too far gone to care. The liquor’s sudden grip on your senses began to cloud your judgment, and honestly, it was far from shocking. To be fair, you had asked for something strong… Not to mention having no substantial food in your belly to dilute the potency you sought after. All in all, there was no ignoring how the liquor was starting to pummel you like a brick to the face would. 

You meet his gaze, eyes scanning his face for any sign of what he’s gunning after by asking such a question. But there’s nothing obvious behind those gloomy eyes of his. No clear motive. You can’t tell if he’s purposefully trying to get under your skin or if he’s just another fool with a quick tongue. 

“Rotting in their graves,” you mutter, voice sharp and, in addition, spiteful. 

“Which I’m sure you’ve got one foot in, yourself, Gramps.” You make a mockery of the decades that are clearly stacked against you, hoping to push him back into his corner.

He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he practically snorts, running a hand over his silvery beard as he crosses his arms; resting them across his stomach with the casual authority of someone who’s seen it all. He’s not rattled by your quips—no, not in the slightest. 

“How old are you, kid?” His voice is flat now, a hint of something more serious creeping in, though you can’t figure out why. You’re even more unsure now about his intentions. Constantly expecting the worst from people was your lot in life. 

“Too young for you.” You snap back, pushing forward with your usual sharpness, trying to regain some control over this ridiculous conversation. You reach for the cup he had refilled for you, but before you can even graze it, he snatches it away, clicking his tongue like a disappointed parent.

“Tsk, tsk,” he tuts at you, as if you’ve done something wrong.

“I asked how old you were.” he repeats, his voice now devoid of any amusement. 

He watches you carefully, his gaze inspecting your face as if he’s trying to peel back layers you didn’t even know were there.

You roll your eyes, irritation growing, and narrow them at him, unwilling to back down. You can’t tell if he’s probing for something deeper, or if he’s just getting off on making you uncomfortable. Either way, you’re done playing his game.

“Why are you so curious, huh?” you scoff, leaning in and making a bold decision to double down on your irritation. “I’m just another patron here to drown in my sorrows and drink them away. Not to mention, I’m paying for the privilege.” Your words are bold, and with that same boldness, you reach across the bar and rip the cup from his grasp.

You try to bring the drink to your lips, intent on finishing it off. But just as the cup nears your mouth, the bartender’s large, rough hand slips over the opening of the cup like a solar eclipse. 

He glares down at you, his eyes narrowing as he sizes you up with a look that could strip paint. In that moment, something clicks in his mind. The defiance in your voice, the way you’re carrying yourself—it all reinforces his suspicion. You’re not old enough to be here. When you walked in, your hood had obscured most of your face. But now that it’s gone, he can see it clearly: you’re just a kid, trying to score some alcohol. The only thing that kept him from throwing you out on your ass, was your cadence. You looked young, and spoke carelessly, but you sounded grown. If you were in fact grown, he’d ease up. 

However, with the way you look—bloodied and bruised, no less—he’s convinced you’re in some kind of trouble. The kind of trouble he doesn’t want being drug through his bar. He doesn’t know where you’ve been, who you’ve pissed off, or what kind of people you run with. But this? This is his bar, and he’s fought too hard to maintain the fragile peace that reigns here. He won’t let you ruin that for him and his loyal patrons by dragging your poor choices in with you. 

“Seems I’ve struck a nerve,” he says, his voice no longer playful but flat and serious. “Either tell me your age, or you’re cut off.”

The room seems to hush around you. The muffled chatter of patrons behind you fades as the bartender’s tone sharpens, leaving no room for argument. It’s a quiet threat now, the kind that lets you know exactly how much leverage you have—and how little he’s willing to tolerate.

“You didn’t strike shit,” You hiss. “and I don’t need to answer to shit.” You add. 

The bartender bends over the counter, his face inches from yours. The bitter scent of smoke hangs thick on his breath, hot and rancid, and it presses against your skin like a physical weight. The damp air in the bar swirls around you, brushing your cheeks with an uncomfortable warmth that feels suffocating, as if the room itself is closing in.

“Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll have no problem lettin’ my loyal patrons cut your tongue out for us to hang above the bar.” He says fiercely. 

You glance over your shoulder, catching the eyes of the dozens of patrons who have fallen silent, their conversations and business abruptly halted. It’s clear—they’re waiting for a signal, ready to back up their beloved bartender if things escalate.

“You can call off the cavalry, Gramps. I was just leaving,” you retorted, swiping one of your coins from the counter, as if to refund yourself for the drink you’ve yet to have. You release your grip on the cup, almost slingshotting it backwards from the sheer force you two had each been bestowing upon it. 

“Sit down.” the bartender commands, his voice low and final, as you attempt to abscond. 

You don’t reply, instead moving to shoulder through the row of patrons who are standing like silent sentinels, waiting for the slightest nod from their bar’s gatekeeper. It’s not like you expected them to part, but the way not a single person dares budge makes your blood boil. The crowd might as well be a wall of stone. 

“Sit. Down.” the bartender demands again, his tone sharper this time, a razor edge cutting through the haze of the bar.

You grind your teeth, your patience wearing thin.

“I’ll take my patronage elsewhere—”

You don’t even finish your sentence before a hand, seemingly out of nowhere, pushes you roughly back. You stumble, barely managing to stop yourself from falling flat on your ass. The sudden movement sends a rush of heat to your head, the anger spiking through your veins like fire.

You seethed at the touch, the anger burning hot in your chest, every muscle in your body coiled with frustration. But you knew better than to keep pushing your luck. Not today. Not in a situation like this, with dozens of hungry eyes watching, their hands twitching near their weapons of choice, waiting for the slightest excuse to make a move.

Biting back a torrent of curses, you forced yourself to swallow your pride, choosing to stay quiet—at least for now. It wasn’t worth the fight. You could practically feel the heat of their glares digging into your back as you turned on your heel, eyes locking once more with the bartender’s. You reclaimed your seat at the bar with deliberate flair, each movement oozing a sense of defiance and attitude. It was a performance, one you were used to. To you, it felt like you were playing the part of someone tough. But you knew, deep down, that to anyone else—especially the bartender—you probably looked like nothing more than a naive, immature idiot who didn’t know when to shut up. It wasn’t a great look, but at least it kept people from getting too close.

“I’m sat,” you muttered, voice brimming with the remnants of your irritation.

The bartender shook his head slightly, a hint of amusement creeping back into his expression. You could feel the tension in the room dissipate, the energy shifting as the crowd behind you resumed their rowdy conversations. The noise began to swell again, and for a moment, it almost felt like the bar was returning to some semblance of normalcy.

He grabbed a dirty glass from the counter, handling it with practiced ease, and pulled a rag from beneath the bar. As he began polishing the glass, he didn’t so much as glance your way. His focus was on the glass, and for a few moments, it felt like you were nothing more than a background detail to him. You could feel your impatience growing with each passing second. If he had something to say, you wished he’d just say it already. At least that way, you could get out of here—and maybe keep some of your pride intact.

The bartender continued his slow, methodical motions, running the rag around the rim of the glass with an almost exaggerated calmness. He didn’t bother to look up, yet you could feel the weight of his gaze on you through the silence.

“I’m gonna ask you again,” he said, his tone neutral, almost too much. “How old are you?”

You weighed your options. If you didn’t answer, you had no idea what would happen next. If you did answer, you still had no clue. It was a gamble either way.

“(Insert age here),” you muttered, the words slipping out begrudgingly, each one like a weight lifting off your chest.

The bartender scoffed lightly, a soft laugh escaping him that made your skin crawl. Your fingers began tapping impatiently on the bar’s edge, the rhythm a soft counterpoint to the growing tension between you.

“____ years old and still so naive… You really are just a kid, eh?” His words hung in the air, his eyes still locked on the glass in front of him, but you could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“There are worse things I could be,” you shot back, your voice laced with a mix of defensiveness and defiance.

“S’pose that’s true,” he replied, finishing up his polishing with the air of someone who had all the time in the world. He set the glass down next to the others—clean, polished, and waiting to be used. With a fluid motion, he slung the rag over his shoulder, then placed one hand on his hip and the other on the edge of the counter. He shifted his weight, leaning just slightly into the bar, his posture relaxed yet somehow still imposing.

“But on the other hand,” he said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, “what you already are ain’t too good either.”

It wasn’t a threat—more of an observation, one that hung heavily in the air, like the smoke in the room. You felt the weight of it, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was a warning or just another way to mess with you. Either way, you could tell this conversation wasn’t over.

You could feel the first few bubbles of anger rising in your chest, the heat creeping up your neck as your blood threatened to boil. You’d always been quick to anger—an unfortunate side effect of your temper and stubborn streak. They were the crosses you’d carried for as long as you could remember.

You scoffed again, the sound sharp and biting, as if it were the only defense you had left. You had already rolled your eyes a dozen times tonight, but it felt like you were on the verge of an explosion.

“What’s your goal here, Gramps?” you spat, your voice dripping with sass, every word a little jab. You didn’t care to hide your bitterness. You liked to fight with words just as much as you did with your fists, and the bartender was starting to see that loud and clear.

“You got the answer you were looking for. Whether you believe me or not, you’ve already served me twice. If my age was such a concern to you, you would’ve kicked me out long before I even sat down.” Your words hung in the air once more, and you could see the gears turning behind his eyes, but he didn’t speak.

He just let out a quiet laugh, as if your logic amused him. And he didn’t bother to answer, not even in the slightest.

The silence stretched, thick and tense, and it was clear he wasn’t going to explain himself. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of an explanation. He simply leaned back, eyes flicking over to the rowdy crowd behind you.

It was infuriating.

You stayed silent for a beat, but only because you knew you’d have more to say. And damn right, you did.

“Do you do this with every new customer?” You snapped, your voice rising now, the frustration boiling over. “’Cause if you ask me, I’m not sure how this shithole’s still in business. You discourage your customers from drinking, even though this is a fucking bar, and that’s all people come here to do. You make it impossible to drink peacefully, just like you make it impossible to drink at all!”

The words spilled out like fire, each one more forceful than the last. Your temper was no longer something you were trying to hold back—it was running rampant, and it felt good to let it out, even if it was in the form of a scream. You weren’t about to let this bartender—this stubborn old man—have the upper hand. Not when it felt like he was deliberately pushing your buttons.

“So if it’s alright with you, Gramps, you got your answer, and I don’t owe you shit. I’m leaving.” You actually raise your voice purposefully this time, slamming your hands down onto the counter as you push yourself off of the stool once more. 

The bartender wasn’t fazed by your outburst. In fact, he’d dealt with feistier, louder, and much more difficult people than you—people who could out-shout you or out-punch you if they had to. He wasn’t bothered by your temper. He had raised four kids on his own, after all. He’d learned a thing or two about handling stubborn personalities, whether they were kids or grown adults who carried themselves like children. And you, in his eyes, were just another brat testing his patience.

“You’re not going anywhere.” His voice was steady, calm, and authoritative, with an edge of finality that cut through the noise of the bar.

Before you could react, his hand shot out faster than you expected, grabbing your shoulder with an unexpected gentleness. He tugged you back into the seat with a kind of effortless force that made your breath catch in your throat.

You shot up from the bar stool in a flash, but his hold was stronger than you anticipated.

Instinct kicked in, and your own hand shot out like a snake, grabbing his wrist with a quick, almost violent motion. You shoved it off your shoulder, irritation flaring up like wildfire.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, your chest heaving as you glared up at him, the heat of the moment burning in your eyes.

You huffed, your fists clenching at your sides, teeth grinding. The room seemed to close in around you, but you weren’t backing down—not now, not after all of this. The tension between you and the bartender was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You could feel the weight of the crowd’s silent attention being drawn to you once more as they waited for your next move, but you weren’t afraid. You didn’t have time to be.

The man let out a heavy sigh, the sound thick with disappointment. 

“Look, kid—”

“By the fucking god’s, I’m not a kid!” you snapped, your eyes flashing a level of ferocity that sliced straight through him.

He pressed his lips into a thin, hard line, his gaze cemented on you still as he took a long, steadying breath. Patience was his virtue, and he was willing to endure this sparring match for as long as it took. 

“It’s clear you’re in some kind of trouble,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Maybe, just maybe, instead of lashing out, you could let someone help—”

You cut him off mid-sentence, your words an unpleasant interruption.

“Help? You want to help? Surely that’s the wrong word. Surely, I heard you wrong, cause, from the way I see it, you’ve done nothing except cage me in here, threaten me, and withhold what I paid for. So if it’s with any consolation, take your ‘help’ and fuck off.” 

Enough was enough. Without another word, you climbed atop the stool, bracing yourself for what came next. You steadied your balance, then launched yourself toward the crowd with calculated precision. The dismount was quick—intentional, forceful. You tucked your legs in, soaring over their heads in a perfect flip, and extended them just before hitting the ground behind them. Without pausing, you bolted for the door, heart pounding in your chest.

To your surprise, you made it—flying through the door and slamming it shut behind you with a satisfying crash. Finally, you were free, never to be seen within a hundred yards of this bar ever again. 

The patrons had made a half-hearted attempt to grab at you as you rushed past, but a sharp, deafening whistle from the bartender stopped them in their strides. He shook his head softly, a silent message that it wasn’t worth the chase. That it was better to let you go. If you were in trouble, it would catch up with you soon enough.

Deep down, the bartender hated seeing someone so young seal their own fate in such a way. But, in the end, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t save them all—no matter how badly he wished he could.

He couldn’t help but wonder— if maybe, just maybe, he’d been a little too assertive, or downright impetuous with you after all.

But it didn’t matter now. You were gone. All he could do was hope you’d survive out on those streets. 

taglist: @blogforhoes @committingcrimes-2047 @dirtandcrime @eternalgoddessofart @woozulo @lutaaaslostacc-d8

[sunfyrisms]

it’s genuinely so sad seeing some people blaming vi for cait leaving her, because it’s exactly what people did with the whole powder situation.

vi was a child when she saw the brutal, horrific end of her brothers and fathers. she was a child, she was hurt, physically and mentally, she lashed out at powder. it is clearly a mistake that she regretted. she looked at her bloodied fist in horror, started crying when she looks at powder, and she left to collect herself. because she was the only one powder has left, and powder was the only one she has left. vander’s last words to her were instructing her to take care of powder. she needed a moment, just a moment, to grieve. but the moment she saw powder is in danger? she immediately got up. she was ready for another fight. she was ready to protect her sister, without hesitation, even after fighting and losing the rest of their family before her very eyes.

i think a lot of people take jinx’s words as an immediate, inherit truth. “you created jinx.” perhaps it’s because jinx herself is the one who said it. but i don’t think vi did that. vi was in prison, as a child, surrounded by violence. constantly beaten, constantly hungry, but she never once forgot about powder. not a day, not an hour, went by that she didn’t think about her little sister. the first thing she does upon getting out of prison is immediately try to find powder. powder may have been traumatized by that fateful night, rightfully so, vi was too, but i don’t think vi created jinx. silco was the one who created jinx. he manipulated her, worsened her mental state, the whole nine yards. i’m not here to discuss whether he loved her because that’s ultimately not what this post is about. what i’m saying is that vi didn’t create jinx, but she blames herself for it anyway. she blames herself for abandoning powder, for not being able to protect her, for her roughness.

it’s so painstakingly obvious she isn’t willing to do that again. she isn’t willing to hurt those she loves. as a result, she’s so soft, so gentle, with caitlyn. she wipes away her tears, holds her, and genuinely sympathizes with her loss. she is able to be there for caitlyn because she has lost people time and time again. she joins caitlyn’s elite force to compensate for her actions (because, again, she openly states she believes she created the monster that is jinx). she becomes the thing she hated most to attempt to right her wrongs, but she still has her morals, she’s growing increasingly uncomfortable with caitlyn’s increasingly violent and cold deposition.

vi is scared of what caitlyn is becoming. she is openly scared of caitlyn, of how unrecognizable her rage and grief is making her. she doesn’t call out caitlyn’s rapidly growing hatred and dehumanization of her own people, not at first. but she’s scared. she’s scared what’s happening to the woman who was shown the reality of what her people face, what’s happening to the woman who genuinely wanted to make a difference, the woman who is ultimately kind as she is naive, the woman who gave away her only means of protection to save vi.

after their battle against jinx and sevika, she voices her concerns. she openly asks caitlyn what’s wrong with her. when she says caitlyn is acting like jinx, she isn’t being cruel. she’s trying to bring caitlyn back to reality. she’s saying “you’re losing yourself and it’s scaring me”. she grabs caitlyn’s arm, but, remembering that she hurt powder, what resulted from that, she immediately loosens her grip, positions her hand so she’s gently holding caitlyn’s wrist. she’s not willing to hurt caitlyn. she wants a productive conversation, she wants to understand, she wants to communicate, she wants caitlyn to understand that she’s becoming something dangerous, and she will do something she will regret.

caitlyn is triggered by vi’s words. she likely, at least subconsciously, resents and blames vi for her mother’s death. vi pleaded with caitlyn not to kill jinx, and caitlyn hesitated, and that resulted in the death of her mother. to be clear, i don’t blame vi for cassandra’s death, because she legitimately had nothing to do with it. but i think caitlyn blames her. she blames her for stopping her a second time, and takes vi’s statement as a direct comparison to her and her mother’s killer. on a surface level, it might have been, but i think it was a warning. it was a warning to caitlyn that her grief and rage were blinding her and she was betraying the morals she held so closely in season one. she’s actively becoming unrecognizable to vi like how jinx is unrecognizable to her, and she doesn’t want that. she doesn’t want caitlyn to lose herself.

in the end, that softness, it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t matter that she tried so hard to go about it differently, to be gentle rather than strong. because caitlyn strikes her in the same place she healed her wounds. caitlyn strikes her with her weapon, looks at her with such obvious contempt and disdain, just like the enforcers she’s encountered her entire life, and vi knows she’s lost her, just like she’s lost everyone. caitlyn is unrecognizable, blinded by her hatred, and vi is alone. she’s left alone after the woman who promised to not change changes so deeply and so badly.

i think that’s the tragedy of vi. she learns from her mistakes, she tries to be gentle, she carries the grief of everyone she loves, and she loves very deeply. however, she can’t save people who don’t want to be saved. she can’t stop people she loves from becoming their worst selves.

[s-exy-sapphillean]

Yknow what? I wanna talk more about how much i think cutting down the amount of scenes with ekko in that other reality would have improved nothing. I'm going as far as to say it would have been detrimental. Ekko and jinx are fucked over by the narrative in general with what we got, but every beat of that episode was actually fully necessary to make what we did get coherent. Any less and it would simply not make sense for ekko to come to that realization that powder and jinx are ultimately the same, that he cares so deeply for jinx even as he blames her for so much pain. Being reminded that he himself played a part and could have caused many people pain as well, seeing how despite losing her sister powder loves him and doesnt blame him, only snapping at him when he in his confusion is being insensitive. All of that was completely necessary and needed some room to settle. Because, to me, jinx becoming suicidal makes sense. With everything with Isha and Vander, it's no wonder. And with Vi again falling into Cait's arms and forgetting what Jinx is going through she needed Ekko. And Ekko was there for her, not because he had to, not because of some grander goal or to use her; because he remembered how much he does care for her, because he knows she's been left in the gutter and lost so many people, because he understood that jinx is still powder. He spent years downright hating her, and every single second shown of his time in that other reality was necessary to unwind that grief-fuelled anger in a way that made sense for his character.

[trender-official]

Whiskey Burns My Throat | Chapter One

Sevika x Doctor!Reader | 4.4k words

Cowritten with my friend Migi

Sevika is tired of Silcos shit. Why was she wasting her time watching over this stupid doctor? And why is she so hot?

Or, slow burn lesbian romance with our beloved Sevika.

Reader is almost an oc but she has no appearance or name lol

Sometimes, Sevika hated her job. For the most part, she either didn’t mind it, or even outright liked it. Being the right hand woman of Zaun’s widely accepted leader had its perks. The pay, for one, was great. She had slowly gotten used to not having to scavenge and scrap on the streets for any little thing she could get her hands on to sell. Now, she had a permanent residence paid off in full, and she hadn’t gone hungry in what felt like forever. She even had plenty of cogs to gamble away at Silco’s bar most nights. And the brothel, if she really needed to let off some steam.

She never could have imagined this for herself, not in a million years. And Silco, he had a real shot at this, a real shot at making something of this shit ridden city. That was all she really cared about. It was why she left Vander all those years ago, after he’d refused to take a stand against those fascist Pilties. She was still bitter about that.

An added bonus was scaring the topsiders. A smirk formed on her face as she thought about it. It was funny, being able to send them running with their tail tucked between their shitty little legs, quivering with genuine fear. Not just of her, but of what Silco would do to them if he found out they fucked with her. So she was on a power kick, sue her.

But this… She didn’t like this.

She stood outside a tent, looking scary enough- which wasn’t hard by any means- to keep anyone who would start shit away, having a keen eye for those people, unfortunately. But she also kept an eye out for clients, people suffering from shimmer. Shimmer was the drug that Silco started distributing after becoming the unofficial-official leader of Zaun.

When injected, shimmer gives you a rush. A rush of power, and enhanced abilities, as well as that feel good high you’d get from other substances. But… with every high comes a cost. It’s highly addictive of course, and has dangerous side effects, like the creation of deteriorating spores that eat away at your limbs in random spots.

Inside the very tent, was a stupid fucking Plitie prick. A stupid Piltie prick who Silco was making her protect. A stupid Piltie prick who was a doctor, treating the symptoms of shimmer and pollution that racked the citizens of Zaun, keeping them healthy enough to bring in profit- but sick enough to keep coming back. Unknowingly by anyone but herself, for the most part, and Silco made sure of that. It was a cruel joke, honestly. A smart, but dangerously cruel one. She would never admit this, but part of her felt bad for the Piltie. She had no idea she was participating in the repeated cycle of addiction and corruption.

A shuffle came from inside, the tent sliding open. A nother patient slinked out, his legs shaking like he was about to collapse at any second. But his face, that was the real kicker. It was a pale gray in color, sores and bumps growing along the side of it, red and irritated from the cleaning it just got. The doctor followed right after, with her hand helping him along cautiously. “Please, follow my directions. Keep the wounds clean and covered, and try to mix up where you inject it, otherwise it’ll just keep corroding the one spot” she said, her voice sounding almost robotic, mainly because she had said that to every other patient that came in with the same issues.

“I’ll try… Thank you, Ma’am.” The person said with a hesitant smile, voice careful and withdrawn. Most people didn’t say anything, just leaving as fast as they could. Or they’d bite out hurtful and spiteful words, despite the doctors efforts of healing them. They don’t wan’t to believe she was real, that she was fully committed to leaving her Piltover life behind for this shithole. Sevika didn’t. She had to be lying… spying, or something, gaining all the information she can to turn in to the topsiders and ruin everything that they’ve worked so fucking hard for. And silco was just letting it happen!

Her voice snapped Sevika out of her thoughts, the permanent scowl on her face deepening. “Of course. Just be safe. As safe as you can be.” The doctor said, sending him off with a wave and a small bag of things to help for the week. A care package, if you will, equipped with a small pale of water, 2 pieces of bread, and some new socks to keep warm.

The doctor looked up at Sevika and smiled. She didn’t smile back. She looked dejected and disappointed, she wanted Sevika to like her. She wanted most people to like her. It made her feel like she was doing a good job, and fueled her to do even better.

She called the next patient up, her voice a little less confident than usual. She took another glance at Sevika as she turned to walk back in the tent, after allowing the patient in. Sevika rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, continuing to glare at the most suspicious-looking person sitting in the alley nearby. She was already tired of this girl, and they’d only been working together a few days.

This was the last patient of the day, as the sun was starting to go down and the more violent citizens would be coming out now. After the last patient came out of the tent, the doctor nodded to Sevika, letting her know it was good to start dismissing everyone.

“Alright! Time to get going.” Sevika said, raising her arms. “Let’s go! Get!” She said to the few who dared to stay and try to fight it. They didn’t stay much longer.

The doctor leaned against one of the poles, the one Sevika had been leaning against, watching her as she shooed away the crowd. She smiled, though this time not as big. Sevika turned back to her, her scowl not faltering. “Wanna drink?” She asked, holding the tent flap open.

Sevika sighed. She knew she couldn’t leave until she got home. So she didn’t have much of a choice. Sevika had to lean down to enter the tent and stay hunched while inside to fit. She shuffled her way over to the small couch poised in front of a coffee table and a rolling chair. Sevika laid an arm across the top of the couch, spreading her legs.

The doctor pulled out a bottle of whiskey, one too expensive to be found down here, but not expensive enough to be considered good by Piltover standards. “I heard you liked this.” The doctor’s eyes glanced down over Sevika’s body nervously. She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling suddenly more out of place than ever.

“You asked Silco about me?” Her eyebrow raised, “Only other person who can get it here is Silco.” She said, not reaching for the glass. The doctor licked her lips nervously.

“Well…yes. Consider it a gift. I don’t really like the stuff.” She said, handing the entire bottle over to her.

“You bought whiskey you don’t like?” Her voice was flat, void of teasing, of lightheartedness. “What, just to impress me?” Sevika said with a laugh of disbelief and slight secondhand embarrassment.

The doctor turned red and stuttered. “I-I don’t know- I just thought of you when I saw it. Is it so bad to get a gift for a new co-worker?” She felt scrutinized when Sevika turned her eyes back to her, and she was right to.

Sevika scanned her up and down. She frowned. The doctor suddenly felt insecure under her gaze. “I’m not going to like you. You can stop trying to make me.” She moved and crossed her arms, her muscles slightly bulging around her shirt. The doctor swallowed.

“I… I don’t think that’s true. If you got to know me-“ She said, sitting forward in her chair.

“Oh shut up. I already know how you're gonna be. All you Pilties are the same.” Sevika glared at her, making the doctor shrink back into her chair. “You’re all arrogant assholes who think we need you. We don’t. Any of our doctors could do the same thing as you.” She stood up and looked down over her. “I don’t know why Silco wants you here. But don’t think because I’m doing this I trust you. I’m doing this for him. Not you.”

Sevika turned and walked outside, to which the doctor sighed heavily. Her face was red and hot with embarrassment. She looked down at the glass, contemplating. Normally she wouldn’t. She wasn’t a fan of not being in control.

Quickly, she snatched it up and took a fat sip. It burned her throat, feeling foreign on her tongue, but the taste reminded her of how Sevika made her feel.

Outside, Sevika stood over the flap to the tent, casting a shadow inside. She squinted at the sound of racing feet stamping down the alley. She saw the shadow of a person carrying someone before she saw them. “Help! Fuck- Fuck, we need help!” A man shouted as he rounded the corner. Sevika pushed herself straight.

“What’s wrong?” She shouted to them.

“I- I don't know- I found him in a pool of vomit- Please, I know there’s a doctor here, you have to help.” He said as he fell to the ground from the weight of the person on his thin, unmuscled arms.

Sevika ran over and scooped the man up, inspecting the wound, a hole in the middle of his thigh, aligned with purple veins and disgusting bubbles filled with bodily fluid. Shimmer. Of course. She turned to the tent and brought the man over, shoving her way through with her shoulder.

The doctor looked up, alarm on her face. She heard the yelling, but couldn’t understand what they were saying. She had stayed inside in worry of a fight. “What?” She said as Sevika moved the man to be held over her shoulder and swept everything off the coffee table.

“He’s overdosing. You need to be quick.” Sevika said, laying him down as quickly as she could while still being gentle. She stood back, breathing surprisingly slowly, she seemed calm. It didn’t surprise Sevika herself, but the doctor was impressed. She really shouldn’t be surprised Sevika knows how to handle herself in stressful situations. You don’t get where she is not being able to.

“Do you know what on?” The doctor said, not having the chance to see the wound yet, snapping on gloves as quickly as she possibly could.

“No. Probably shimmer…” Sevika stood back, giving her room to work. She hated seeing this, knowing she helped it happen.

“Okay…” she sounded defeated, tired, “get me the Naloxone and a scalpel… please.” She said, having to remind herself not to bark orders out. Before coming down here- before uprooting her entire life, she had assistants and staff; people hired to help her without question or need for respect, as bad as that sounds. She pointed to the place she kept them, on the other side of the tent where there was a small box filled with all the supplies she could carry.

Sevika obeyed, not interested in protecting her dignity over someone’s life. The doctor began to wipe at the tumors growing on his thigh, deemed to be the injection site. The smell was awful… The wounds weren’t bleeding- not actively, there were signs of past bleeding, dried blood, and scabs topping every growth. They weren’t like shimmer growths, they were almost straight black. It was like his body was growing them just for them to rot. The doctor quickly administered the Naloxone, which evened out his breathing somewhat.

She took a deep breath, as well as she could with the thick smell of decay in the air, readied the scalpel. As soon as she cut into the pustule, it exploded, luckily missing her face, but it coated her hand and the table. Her eyes widened, as the smell assaulted her nose and mouth. She coughed, backing away. She knew this smell. She knew what this was.

“Fucking- Shit!” She yelled. “Back up! Get back!” She yelled at Sevika. She rushed to wipe her hands off on a cloth nearby. Just exposure to this could have negative effects on the human body. “It’s fake shimmer! Don’t touch it!”

“What? What does that mean?” Sevika asked, her instincts pushed her to pull the doctor away from the body, but she stopped herself. She seemed genuinely scared- Sevika thought it might be better to listen to her here.

“It means it’s toxic! We need to get him out of here!” She said, ripping off the ruined gloves and retrieving two pairs of new ones. “Come on- You need to help me.”

“Help you what?!”

“Get him out of here!”

“What? No! You need to help him!” Sevika said, grabbing her arm. “He’s your patient. You’re a doctor! This is your job!” She leaned over a little to tower over her, trying to scare her into listening.

“We can’t help him now! That stuff- You can’t bring someone back after they’re too far gone.” She tried to pull her arm away, only making Sevika rip her closer. Her chest pressed up to Sevika’s rib. Sevika’s breasts were almost in her face. She tried her best to not look, but couldn’t help to spare a few glances.

“That can’t be true. You have to do something.” Sevika growled.

“Anything I can do will just make him suffer longer! Is that really worth it?” She yelled back, pushing up. “I’ve done this before, the only thing treatment guarantees is more pain!”

Sevika glared silently and released her arm. Her face tightened once more before she turned away and stalked outside. The man who carried him in looked at her with a scared face. He clearly heard all of that. She looked down and sighed, closing her eyes. She wasn’t one to offer comfort to others.

Back inside the tent, the doctor was rushing to get the new gloves on. She searched her supplies and luckily found a vial of morphine. She bit her lip to hold back tears. It’s been awhile since she’d handled this kind of stress. She pushed herself up and slowly walked over to the patient. She’d give all that was left in the bottle, just enough to cause an overdose. He’d fall asleep, never to wake up again. She took a glove off.

Solemnly, she injected the dose, holding his hand as she did it, letting him feel her skin. She knew he likely wasn’t here already, but he was alive enough to feel pain. No one deserved to go out like this.

After… It happened, she came out, having taken off the button up that had the rot on it, now just in an undershirt. The man looked at her with wide eyes. She shook her head. “I’m sorry.” She had taken off the other glove already. She walked over to the man and placed a hand on his shoulder. He himself was not looking very good, tumors from shimmer beginning to appear on his arms and face. His breathing was weezy from the pollution. “You did your best. He was likely already too far gone by the time you found him.” The man shuddered. He didn’t cry. This was the undercity. No one here had their life guaranteed.

As the man left, both Sevika and the doctor went back into the tent. Sevika stared at the body as the doctor retrieved the whisky from earlier. “I’m gonna drink.” She said, an indirect invite to join.

“Give me a glass.”

She nodded and poured two glasses. She handed it to Sevika and she downed it in almost a minute. “What did you do to him?” She asked.

“I gave him morphine. Too much to survive. He wasn’t going to anyway.”

“You could’ve given him a chance.” Sevika frowned, still staring at the lifeless body.

“The only chance he would’ve had is if we stopped him from taking it in the first place.” She said quietly, walking back to the couch. She looked at the body, then back to Sevika. “I did what I could.”

“You- You fuckin’ killed him! You did what you could- Bullshit!” Sevika threw the glass, it shattered against the ground louder than expected.

The doctor jumped, looking like a child watching her parents fighting. “He was going to die anyway! Much more painfully!” She said, standing up.

“You act like I haven’t seen this kind of thing before-“ The doctor defended herself, her cheeks growing warm. She hated conflict, especially the kind that involved being alone with a large woman in a tent that was secluded. Not that she was worried Sevika would do anything. Silco needed her, or at least that’s what he made it seem like…

“But I have.” she finished off, her voice raw and full of heavy emotions. “There’s been nights you weren’t here, where I stayed up for hours monitoring and watching, holding people's hands while they suffered a pain I caused them.. you don’t get to come in here and poke fingers at me when I’m the one who has to end their lives!”

By the end she was panting, her once neatly tied back hair now framed her face from all the excitement. Her eyes were ablaze with anger, grief, and something else that she couldn’t quite place herself.

Sweat dripped from her forehead in little droplets that beaded onto her chest, now more exposed from having to dispose of the contaminated shirt from before. The soft glow of the lanterns lighting up the tent illuminated her face, highlighting the curl of her lips that were currently in a snarl, and the thicker furrowed brows that were slowly returning to their normal resting position as she calmed down.

“You fucking…” Sevika trailed off, her tongue running over her teeth. Her eyes trailed down her body, lavishing over her without care. If she weren’t royally pissed off right now, she may have found her hot. Sevika frowned and glared at her. “Fine. Too fucking late now.” She came closer, observing the body. “How do we dispose of it- of him.” She knew she was too used to people simply being ‘its’.

The doctor shifted on her feet, just now starting to feel the dull ache settle in from being on them all day. She knew exactly how she disposed of them, she’d been doing it for quite some time now. But… she didn’t want to say. It was, frankly, too embarrassing. Too vulnerable.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.” the doctor brought a hand up to her forehead, wiping the beads of sweat from it, cringing a little at the wetness. She stepped back, grabbing the bottle of the now half full whiskey and brought it to her lips, taking a good, 5 second chug. She resisted the urge to cringe at the unfamiliar taste, and the burning that took hostage of her throat. Wiping her lips after, and ignoring the salty taste of her own skin, she placed the bottle back down, steadying herself on her desk.

“That’s enough for you, little girl.” Sevika said with a smirk that said ‘I’m better than you.’ Her attitude switched too quickly to be anything but forced. She had to be fine with death. There was nothing for her but. “Give it here.” She said as she yanked the bottle from her hands with her metal arm, Sevika’s unnatural strength too much to fight. Her arm rotated in strange ways to lift the bottle to her mouth, lips sealing around it as she chugged the rest of it. It took nearly ten seconds to finish. She smiled patronizingly and threw the bottle down next to the broken cup.

The doctor felt her eye twitch, a low growl bubbling from the back of her throat. “I have enough shit to deal with here, I don’t need to add ‘cleaning up temper tantrums’ or pissing contests to my agenda” The alcohol was already starting to take effect, her head growing heavy with a buzz that left her feeling fearless, and unaware of the consequences she might have to face come morning time.

Sevika snickered. “Yeah? Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t.” She smiled, but it wasn’t one that made the doctor feel any better. It was almost sickening. She looked ravenous. She looked like she need to either fuck or fight someone. “But remember, I only take your orders because Silco says I should.” She said, her smile slipping. She turned and started to walk away before turning back. “And watch your mouth. You don’t wanna fuck with me.” She flashed a smirk then left the tent, leaving the mess behind her. Though, she didn’t leave, not fully, she stayed in the area. She wanted to see what she would do with the body, her curiosity too strong to fight. Today, anyway.

The doctor ran a hand through her hair, her other stabilizing herself on the table. A shaky sigh left her lips. Her thoughts were filled with confliction. Anger, frustration, and… attraction. It pissed her off.

With a huff, she turned and grabbed the items she would need to properly… dispose of the body laying next to her. Gloves, a shovel, a wheelbarrow, gasoline, and a match.

She covered herself with a spare coat she had, putting on her goggles, gloves, and a gas mask before she used the shovel to lift his body into the wheelbarrow, holding onto the handles for support after with a pant. Bodies were heavy, and she wasn’t necessarily in the best shape, not like Sevika.

She made her way to the spot she always used, a secluded area at the end of Zaun’s fissure, Sevika in tow, though not to her knowledge.

The doctor tried to be gentle as she dumped the body from the hopper, wincing at the harsh sound his body made as he rolled from it, his limbs limply following in pursuit. She sighed, rubbing her damp forehead with the sleeve of her jacket. She hated this part.

She didn’t have the time to bury him, nor the stamina to dig the hole, so she relied on burning. She sat him up against the giant rock wall, positioning his body as someone taking a peaceful nap, closing his eyes with gentle fingers.

“I’m sorry.” She croaked, shoulders slumped, and tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t cry normally, not anymore anyway, but tonight, with the mix of emotions and alcohol, she wasn’t in control of her tear ducts.

Sevika would’ve made a noise of disbelief, if it wouldn’t have gotten her spotted. She almost respected the efficiency she moved with, as if she had an ounce of control over herself. Even while drunk or high out of their mind, Zaunites always had to have control, at least over their tears and fear.

Although, there was something almost attractive about seeing a Piltie doing this kind of stuff. Something degenerate and sick, something that came from craving others to go through the pain she did. Or maybe, seeing something once so innocent be corrupted.

The doctor moved back, reaching for the bottle of gasoline, pouring it gently through his hair, watching as it dripped down his cheeks and jaw, and finally down to soak his clothing. Guilt bit at her, even though she knew there was nothing she could do. But surely, there had to be a way, somehow, to save people like him. She just hadn’t found it yet. And that was the worst part of it.

Taking a deep breath, she lit the match using her boot, setting the collar of his shirt ablaze, before putting it out on the ground and stepping back. She couldn’t watch him burn, that would simply be too much, in a way. She turned, shoulders still hunched in a sort of… defeat and shame. Shame that she couldn’t save him, or any of the other bodies she had done the same routine with. And defeat, that she didn’t even know where to start in being able to save those lost people, or any for that matter.

She didn’t think of herself as a healer, as a savior. No, that was bullshit. She knew she was just keeping these people alive until their shimmer addictions inevitably killed them. But what else was she supposed to do? Refuse them? It was all out of her hands now. She just had to trust that Silco was the man he said he was, and got the people of Zaun out of the mess that it was.

With a final sigh as her goodbye, she walked back to her tent, taking off everything she was wearing and throwing it to the ground to sanitize it later. For now, all she wanted to do was sleep. So sleep she did, curled up on one of the cots, wallowing with the scratchy blanket that was left there by one of her past patients. Sleep took her dreamlessly, for once in her life, the alcohol helped with that.

Sevika watched the doctor walk away and finally reach a point where she couldn't see her. She felt herself relax, though not much. She left her hiding space, an overhang area she’d silently climbed up onto, lurching off of the platform and trudging over to the burning body. For a moment, she just stared, her face in a tight scowl.

The fumes burned her throat, but it took her a moment to even notice, waiting until she physically couldn’t take a breath. She put on the mask she carried with her, a cheap one that could fold small enough to hide. The air of the fissures itself usually wouldn't bother her, but she carried one just in case.

She felt her eyes burn with unshed tears of many years yearning to escape, the day- no, the months of grief and anger catching up on her. But she wouldn’t let them fall. Tears were a sign of weakness, and she wasn’t weak.

Slowly, she reached for a compartment in her arm, where she held extra shimmer vials. She opened it, taking one and throwing it into the fire, as some sort of… offering. For forgiveness. She peeled off a piece of dead skin on her lip, savoring the pain and blood, before walking away, already missing the heat of the flames kissing her skin. Maybe she’d replace it with the heat of one of the brothel girls… She needed it.

[heavenlyraindrops]

The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Three

also available on AO3 and Quotev | visit first tag to find other chapters | warnings: pre- s1 (for now), mentions of pregnancy (you’re not the one who’s pregnant dont worry), smoking

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter Three:

Caring for Alice had proved harder than you’d expected. You needed places to leave her while you went out to run errands too- the enforcers had quit looking for her, assuming she was dead.

You’d grown closer to Vander too, and Felicia, through Silco. A day or two whining at the bar had resulted in Vander offering to keep her at the bar during the day.

You narrowed your eyes at him, swirling your straw around in your cup before taking a long sip. Felicia put her hand on your shoulder.

“It’s fine, [name]. Vander’s good with kids.” She flashed you a toothy grin. You slowly exhaled, not moving to shrug her hand off. You peered over the counter to see Alice with her back pressed to the inside of the bar, scribbling on a piece of paper.

“Fine, I guess. But don’t let her out.”

“You know it’s calm during the day. She’ll be fine.”

“Not a foot outside the building.”

Silco stepped out from the back, a book clutched in his hand. You looked at him, studying his face slowly. 

“How about you tell me.” You flicked your head towards him, and he raised an eyebrow. “Should I leave Alice here during the day?”

He grinned, and you could see his chipped tooth. “She’ll be fine here.”

That reassured you, and you quickly took another long sip from your drink.

So it was decided. While you went out to make whatever money you could, instead of locking Alice up in your tiny apartment you left her at the Last Drop, where Vander and Felicia would keep an eye on her.

You stood up, the barstool scraping, and went round to Alice. “Come on. It’s time to go home.” She stood up, handing you the crumpled piece of paper. It was a drawing of you both.

“This is lovely,” you cooed as you led her out of the bar, flashing the three a grateful smile as the door shut. And you took her home.

Over time you’d grown a maternal love for her. She kept your lonely self company, when Silco wasn’t around. And Felicia and Vander just weren’t the same. Seated in your cold apartment, you brushed through her tangled hair, shared a mediocre dinner, and went to bed.

Tangled in the sheets for warmth, she clutched your shirt. “Is mommy coming back?” She mumbled, half asleep yet still wide eyed. A sharp stab of guilt tore at your chest.

“No,” you whispered, and wrapped your arm around her, burying her into the crook of your neck. 

“Are you my mommy now?” Her voice was so small it broke your heart even more.

“Yes baby,” you reassured her. “You have me now.”

You both fell asleep.

-

“She thinks I’m her mother now.”

You took a drag of the cigarette, looking out over the rooftops. The sky was clear, azure blue hanging over you both like a blanket. Silco side-eyed you, reaching for the cigarette.

You turned and blew smoke in his face, making him recoil, and laughed at his face. He indignantly snatched the cigarette from you and took a flustered drag on it.

“Aren’t you?”

“Well I-“ you stared at him. “I don’t know. I guess I… stepped up.”

“Certainly,” he drawled, smoke wafting through the hair. You scooted closer to him and reached for the cigarette, fingers closing around his. He looked at you.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said quietly. “You’re sure she’s safe with Vander?”

He smiled softly, and let you take the cigarette from his hands. “I’m sure.”

“If anything happens to her, I’ll kill myself.”

The heavy words escaped you so easily you hardly noticed. Silco flinched, and put a hand on your knee, chuckling nervously.

“Please don’t.”

Your eyes flew to his hand. He snatched it away.

“Where have you been, Silco?” You asked, voice dropping low again. “I haven’t seen you in a week. And that hair-“ you moved to brush a lock of hair obscuring part of his face. “It’s getting in the-…”

He stared at you. “What?”

“Where did this come from?” You lightly poked the bruise, and he flinched, snapping his head away. “Silco.”

“You know people get into scrapes. It’s fine.”

“Right, but you don’t. And this looks bad.” Your fingertips traced down his cheekbone to the cut across his jaw.

“It’s fine, [name].” He grabbed your wrist. “I’m fine.”

“Just promise you’ll be safe.” You took a drag of the cigarette.

“Of course I do.”

You blew the smoke in his face and he frowned.

“Promise.”

He sighed, relenting. “I promise I’ll be safe.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder and offered him the cancer stick. “Good,” you hummed contentedly, feeling him tense then relax beneath your cheek as he gingerly plucked it from your fingers.

You weren’t sure if he was holding up on the promise.

Days after that he’d return with more bruises, or simply not show up at all. You would stay up on the roof until it was time for you to leave, and wouldn’t find him at the Last Drop either. Vander and Felicia were rather unhelpful considering his whereabouts, and he refused to speak of them. Another evening of waiting on the roof, he arrived late.

You sat up, watching him slightly shake as he dropped down next to you. His lip was split.

“Silco.” Your voice was strained.

“What?” He sounded slightly breathless. “I made it.”

“What are you getting yourself into?” Your voice shook, and he blanched, shocked at the genuine worry in your tone. “Tell me the truth.”

“[name], I…”

“Please. You promised me.”

After a long moment of studying your face, he sighed. “You can’t tell anyone, [name].” You circled your arms around his.

“I won’t,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“I… I’m a member of a-“ he cleared his throat. “Resistance group.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

“The Children of Zaun.”

He didn’t say anything more. You sat up straight, pulling away from him. “That’s it?” Your voice was a dangerous whisper. “That’s all you’ll tell me?”

“For your safety.” He sounded urgent. 

You stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. In truth, your heart was pounding with fear. For him. But then you nodded.

“Don’t die. If anything happens to you, I’ll kill myself.”

He seemed so sick at hearing those words you figured it would be enough to keep him cautious. 

“Now let me bum a cigarette.”

He relaxed, then chuckled, pulling out a pack. “You’ve bled me dry.”

“Don’t run dry then.” You watched as he placed one between his lips, and held out your lighter. He leaned into the flame. Pulled away. The lighter snapped shut. Inhaled. Moved the cigarette from his lips.

And blew the smoke in your face.

You coughed, shocked. “You- you bastard!”

But he was laughing.

You laughed too.

You leaned back into him. He let you.

“I know how much Zaun means to you,” you whispered. “I know you want a better place for the next generations.” You looked up at him, eyes saying one thing. But please be safe.

He stayed silent, looking back at you. And then he spoke softly. “Felicia’s pregnant.”

You sat up. “What?”

He grinned and nodded.

“Then- then who’s the father?”

“Connol.”

“Silco… this is…”

He looked at your unsure expression, and then held out the cigarette. “It’s good.”

You nodded. “It’s great.”

[demacianpuppet]

Some more thoughts/observation regarding Viktor and whatever he had going on his cult because I'm obsessed.

First of all, what exactly was Salo doing there? He went to the power source of the Hex Gates to get some (raw) Hextech crystals I assume but this leave me with more questions than answers.

For what exactly did Viktor need the crystals?

I would assume stealing from the source, which is locked behind a specific key (which seem to only open with Hextech) makes it easier do than from higher up of the Hex Gates. Considering Viktor's followers are just an extension from Viktor himself, they have the easiest option to sneak into it.

Also, Salo wears no protection gear, something that the people who maintain the Hextech Gate clearly do as seen in Season 1.

One detail I didn't catch while watching the first time is that the discussion between Jayce and Viktor happens in the Wild Rune and also seems to be Viktor who frees Jayce from it.

(Maybe Viktor knew something about Jayce being trapped in the Wild Rune which would explain why only Jayce materialized when Salo appeared and Heimerdinger and Ekko are still missing.)

So more interesting details - first of all Salo wasn't breathing the whole dialogue. You can see how Jayce breath condensed in the Hex Gates while Salo's never did. It also lines up that Jayce saw some empty husk creature whenever he looked at Viktor's followers.

Not consider how creepy the whole scene was because we see Salo is absolutely not acting like Salo, constantly switching to being possessed by Viktor.

Also, when Jayce dispose of the empty husk that once Salo was, the blood is not just red but also prismatic. His body has been also fundamentally changed from the inside.

Also Viktor doesn't seen to really care that Jayce just killed someone? Like sure, he is worried for Jayce and mentioned that someone is in his head but she shows no pity for Salo who just got killed?

I continue that none of the Viktor's followers actually acted like normal human being. Like Huck showed no sign of fear when the Noxian appear with their weapon, nor do any other people reacted with fear when Jayce appears with his weapon in his hand and clearly not best mental state.

As someone else already pointed out, you don't see anyone doing anything but to work. No children playing, no people talking with each other. Again, not human, not normal.

Whenever Viktor touched someone and tries to heal them, you can see how he left his fingerprints on them. (Vander/Warwick has them as well.)

Interesting Viktor could spot Jayce mental state without touching him, makes me wonder how close he needs to be to a person. Maybe Jayce is a special case because they both are touched by the Arcane?

When Singed talked with Viktor, Singed touched Vikor's hand and he instantly glimpsed into Singed mind. It seems to be not even an active thing he does.

(Does it mean back then Jayce hugged him after he just woke up from his metamorphosis did he already had seen the weapons Jayce had crafted during that time in his mind?)

Interesting that Singed mentioned that Viktor grows weaker, you would assume whatever the Hexcore does should be like a virus, so more people would make it stronger and not weaker.

Was this the reason why Viktor wanted the Hextech Crystals? To make a new Hexcore to replace his failing energy source? So many question, no answers.

Also what exactly was Viktor doing when he was levitating while being connected via strings to something? Did the writers just need a reason why Viktor would not try fight back when Jayce appeared? Did he was ready to face the possibility that Jayce could actually do harm to him?

Jayce goes into the room, does the shot and refusing to even look when he was firing it. There is one frame there you can see mirror version of Jayce reading the shot, it makes me wonder how often he went to Viktor and tried to change the outcome.

Jayce also left immediately once the deed was done. While Jayce was clearly tearing up, he ran way instantly.

Viktor just watched Jayce do the shot, fear in his eyes and he couldn't stop staring at him until his last breath was leaving him. The cog (which is not the same one during Hextech breakthrough) rolled away from his hand.

We know that Viktor ends the episode with his monologue how emotions are problem but I wonder if he knew that would happened and a part of him (or the Hexcore) becked Jayce to do the shot so he finally could get rid of his heart and/or influence of the Hexcore for good.

Because in Viktor's mindscape Viktor behaved like he always did while in reality he is very emotionalless despite everything.

Also going back to the hive mind thing - their life energy was clearly connected to the Hexcore which was the reason why they all started dying when the Hexcore was destroyed.

Despite Jayce ruining everything according the fans, I don't think Viktor would have stayed alive much longer anyway with Ambessa and Singed near. I wonder if this was the best-case scenario so that they would not get the Hexcore in their hands or if Jayce basically did a self-fulfilling prophecy with this action.

[theriverbeyond]

arcane s2 act 2 THOUGHTS, overall I think this was a lot stronger than the first act --- at the end of the day arcane is a character and relationship (primarily sisterhood/brotherhood/parent-child/family) driven show above all else, with plot as a sort of loose secondary, so like, even though i DO have plot critiques they're feel a lot softer just because the arc was genuinely so enjoyable to watch on an emotional level. anyway #SPOILERS and critiques below. well more like one big excessively long critique but I spent ages typing it all up so here it is:

i think my big critique thus far is pacing and story planning. there is just... a lot going on, for a 9 episode show. like a LOT. like way too much. and I think this was obvious in the first arc, and better managed in this arc -- but that is largely because this arc wildly narrowed the focus. this arc totally left out Ekko and Hermidinger(i can never remember his name. the squirrel dude), the new enforcer squad were basically back to being background characters, and while Sevika, Jayce, Victor, Cait, Ambessa were all present/involved in plot, they all took a big backseat screentime-wise. This allowed the act to really focus in on Jinx & Vi, Jinx and Vi & Vander, and Jinx & Isha, which is of course where the arc really shines -- but it brings BIG concerns for act 3, where presumably we will be back to having a full plate of characters. So I expect the "too much going on" issue to be more obvious in act 3, which is disappointing because that's like, the finale.

following from the above, there's a lot of skipping around that feels very economical but also like.... WEIRD! like.... we are watching a highlight clipshow? or something? Salo gets told "hey check out this healer" -> next time we see him he is totally healed. WHAT? like sure i dont care about him as a character, but that just feels kinda.... like we are really squeezing in here huh!! and we go from seeing Victor heal one dude in act1 -> next time we see him he has set up a whole commune and is playing big jesus. WHAT???? we dont get to see anythijg in the middle?? what about Jinx and Isha reuniting after escaping Stillwater but before finding Vi??? etc etc etc? and sure those scenes would be not be necessary on a "the plot doesnt work without them" level, but these types of "TITLE CARD READS: 2 DAYS LATER, AFTER THE GANG SETTLES IN" situations are happening SO frequently in this season that it really seems like they have too much story to fit into the time they are given, and are now aggressively trimming anything they can so stuff will fit and still make sense.

Basically what I'm saying is the show feels like my twitter reads, where Im a verbose mf and have to aggressively abbreviate words and cut sentences and rambling when I tweet so it can fit the character limit. and sure I don't need all those extra characters and words to convey my full meaning but "economical with time" is not really the best compliment I could give a show. Like why do you have to be so economical. why are we pinching pennies seconds here instead of modifying the plot to improve the pacing.

shallow critique but the "Jinxers" all getting blue hair and pronouns and pink accents was weird. like..... Jinx has a lot of symbols, like the monkey or the shark or whatever, that they could have easily done something like that. and the blue hair is GOOFY!!! the only one who gets a pass is Isha, bc her hair clearly looks like a quick dye/paintjob, versus everyone else who looks like they went to a salon.

I think this is, again, an issue of screentime economics, but im honestly disappointed in the CaitVi reunion. it's not that I dislike the scenes themselves, but it all feels so... easy! fast! like their breakup felt so emotionally resonant and them making up felt so quick. I have my fingers crossed for Consequences (and fallout from both Vi's alcoholic era and Cait's rebound bedsharing) next act, especially based on the preview, but like.... we have so much other stuff to tie up I am just not sure there is enough time for them to really deliver the impact that the breakup promised.

I've been told that they always planned for 2 seasons and had everything plotted out beforehand but the pacing is... really weird for something they had so meticulously planned for two seasons. It feels a LOT more like they wrote a story they wanted to tell, they were then given 18 episodes in which to tell it, and they decided they liked their original story so much that they didn't want to cut anything even though 18 episodes is a huge squeeze for this number of characters/this level of plot complexity.

And I think the quality difference is SO noticeable between the acts that are tight and focused (like this arc here, or the original season 1 act 1 -- both were tightly focused around Vander family dynamics, with some B and C plots. Compare that to act 1 of s2, which feels like trying to the contents of an entire pringles can into my mouth at once)

Related to that, I keep getting the sense that the writers want Specific Events to happen -- they want Jinx to care for someone that represents Powder, in order to coax out that part of her again. They want Cait and Vi to pull a doublecross deception on Ambessa. They want Victor to lead a jesus cult. etc. And then they draw a line from A to B in the most efficient way possible instead of doing things in a way that feels natural or actually rewarding. And then of course the specific Thing they wanted to happen does happen, and they do it really well. And it going really well retroactively justifies the hamfistedness of the setup, but also, should it? I talked about this issue for s2act1 last time but it remains, so.

Anyway that ways just way too many words to essentially talk about one issue. But that one issue (pacing/story planning) just... seeps into EVERYTHING, and I spent a long time typing all that out, so.

This is a bit of a complimentary critique, but I think the wild pacing means that there is a LOT of feeling jerked around emotionally, and I think the show is doing a pretty good job at making that feel exciting instead of confusing, so props for that

Ok now for stuff I liked, because despite my Hater Energy I loved this arc. that is why I have critiques. Because I love it and wish it was better.

like I said, Isha's introduction felt really hamfisted but I can't deny her story crushed my SOUL this arc. I loved that she was nonverbal, I loved her growing relationship with Jinx and it all definitely got enough screen time for Jinx's character development to feel natural/real/earned. I loved that. I cried. oh my fucking god. I love the thematic parallels of it all and I love how it puts Jinx into the role of a parent -- this WHOLE show is about family. sisters and brothers and parents and their kids. this is what it is ABOUT this is why i love this SHOW aughgaaiudsadsafdkha

Jinx's whole character development and everything is so. I don't have brain to write more about it tn but im like. yeah. i love it a lot. she allows herself to try to be the big fat hero...

I love women. This was such a good arc for beautiful handsome women.

I was suuuuper skeptical of Warwick -- I knew from fan speculation the likely connection between him and Vander, and also that he was a big fuckoff werewolf, and I was worried it would all be too goofy but really loved this. Jinx's look of utter terror when she didn't know if she'd killed her father/sister again, the hug, Vander's head touch with Vi, his love for his children bringing him back from thoughtless rage... i loved it. i can't even think about that last scene oh my GOD

I did just complain about the CaitVi reunion but as a homosexual I loved it a lot. Like. It was hot. There was spit and handcuffs and wrassling in the dirt. the almost-kiss when Cait pulled the bag over her head was more intimate than a kiss. there was name calling.

I love Cait having a rebound gf/fuckbuddy. It is SO funny to me, it's an excellent characterization moment for Cait, it's great tension that will HOPEFULLY have payoff in act 3, it's incredible fodder for angsty erotic fanfiction that I hope will soon grace a browser near me. and i hope it influences the CaitVi NETFLIX SEX WARNING scene that will soon grace a TV near me. I hope it is so long it compels me to write 1k words complaining that it was an irresponsible use of screen time

Jinx and Vi teaming up is another thing that felt too fast for me but like, was retroactively justified by how good it was. LIKE!!! Vi protecting Jinx. Parallels to childhood. Their sibling fight. How Vi reached out to her and welcomed her into the family hug. I'm emotional

We finally got to see BLOOD like I'm not a gore person, honestly, but act1 was pretty bloodless even during violent scenes, and I was a little worried that it would just be like that. but NO!!! Warwick's massacre was soooo good and got that blood spraying

I really like how Silco continues to haunt Jinx, and I love the way the show is exploring her grief and like... that she doesnt know who she is anymore. ough.

LOVE Sevika and Jinx's heist/disguise scene, especially all the animation/art details. Like the way Jinx's disguise is so poorly fitted, it's so good. I rewatched that scene specifically like, 4 times

Pitfighter Vi 🧎

as always super interested to hear other people's thoughts, critiques, critiques of my critiques, if im missing something big, etc etc.