#really putting the fine in piltover's finest

[stupid-ass-username]

Idea: Vi, but she's in that Very Nice Shirt that jayce was wearing 👀👀👀

[galaxofmuses]

Thread moved for @hauntedreality

"I-It is? Ah thank goodness." Letting out huge sigh of relief. He finally puts the papers on his messy work desk. It is clear that he did not had a chance to organize anything from the council meetings, bookings from the higher ups and spilled stains of coffee and empty mugs that are screaming to be washed.

Putting his hand on the smooth lining of metal and wood. It is clear that this custom desk is crafted so finely to perfection...well he is the one who planned and prep to create such a fine specimen. Well he wasn't alone, he had plenty of connections to Piltover's finest carpenters. Some were just connections from his family.

"....Well I ain't gonna take you to a fancy Piltover restaurant. We can just go to some small pub. Something simple. I...I really miss that feeling." He was looking over at the sight of the city. Knowing that in his gut feeling that the meeting will be starting soon. Jayce turns at Viktor with a smile, a smile that looks rather forced despite his exhaustion. Oh man he is absolutely exhausted and feeling with emotions and feelings that he wants to reach out.

[l2bbocsstuff]

STITCHING HEARTS TOGETHER

At 9 am on a Sunday, Korra stood at the front entrance of the house next door.  She was pretty sure that it would be unlocked because when she and Vi left the residence very early that particular morning, they had tucked Asami and Caitlyn into their respective beds.  The four of them had been drinking copious amounts of wine until the wee hours and Korra figured that neither of the other girls would have gotten up to lock the door.  She turned the knob and quietly stepped in.I’ll just clean up a bit before everyone else wakes up.

Korra began by putting the corks back into the semi-empty bottles that were sitting on the coffee table.  Her mind floated back to images of the night before.  She knew at one point that Caitlyn and she were wearing the wine cartons on their head and saying that they were “Team Blue” which automatically made Asami and Vi “Team Red”.

Spirits knows where that idea came from.

She put more than a few empty bottles back into the wine carton and picked up the glasses.  Still being as silent as possible, Korra crept into the kitchen.  Her startle reflex hit her full force when she saw Asami sitting at the kitchen table.  Korra blurted “Fuck!!” at the same time Asami said, “Holy shit!!  Korra what are you doing here?  You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“The feelings mutual.”

Once both women calmed a bit, Korra eyed Asami, who was wearing a blue and white sweater, a dark set of sunglasses inside, and her hair and make-up was flawless as usual.  Korra asked, “Why are you up so early?”

“I’ve always been an early riser.  Even when I’m hungover, like right now, my body says ‘get the hell out of bed’ because I know I won’t go back to sleep.  It really kind of sucks.  Why are you up?  You should feel as bad as I do and why are you sneaking around?”

“One – I don’t get hangovers.  Water tribe baby!!” she said as she flexed her biceps into a 90-degree angle.  “And two, I wasn’t sneaking around.  I was trying to clean up.  It seemed the least I could do because you guys bought all the wine.”

“That’s very kind of you.  Thank you.  Although we didn’t really buy all the wine.  Caitlyn’s parents left this for us when they were here a couple of weeks ago.”

“Ahhh, I kind of wondered where the wine came from.  I’ve never heard of Piltover’s Finest, not that I am much of a wine aficionado.”

Asami took a sip of her coffee, while leaving a lovely lip-stain on the cup, “Would you like one?”

“Yes, please.  I could use the caffeine.  I’m still pretty tired and mornings are evil.”

Asami poured one for her friend and then sat back down with a sigh.

Korra thanked her for the java, sat on the table and then said, “I wondered where I left that.”

“Left what?”

“My sweater.  I see it fits you.”

Asami blushed.  “You left it here a while ago.  I think it was the afternoon we had the barbeque when we were sitting outside.”

“My Mom made it for me when I was sixteen.  It was the first thing she ever knitted.  She got all the measurements wrong but I loved it anyway.  I think she thought I would keep growing and it would fit someday.  That never happened.”

Asami showed Korra how the arms fit her perfectly.  “Fits me just fine!!  By the way, where’s Vi?”

“She still sleeping it off.  Where’s Caitlyn?”

“The same,” Asami responded.

They sat peacefully and finished their coffees.  Then both women cleaned up the living room.  Once that was completed, Korra headed for the door.  She stopped and turned to her next-door neighbour, “I’m not getting that sweater back am I?”

Asami leaned in and kissed Korra on the cheek, “Probably not.” Korra walked back into her and Vi’s place with a thousand-watt grin on her face.

A lil wip..

[charliedoyleloves]

You caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out w viktor? :>

“You Caught Me Doing Something Dangerous and Flipped Out” – Three Armed Metal Husband ft an engagement???? Maybe not exactly the trope, but still. I know you live for this content Maddie, do not lie to me.

@shvnpo

Also going to tag @sacredempressnatlyia because this seems like the type of thing you would like. If you don’t want to be tagged again, let me know!

He was stalking around the room again, his leg brace clacking against the floor with every odd step. Step, clack, step, clack, step.

The clack didn’t come, and they realized he knew they were awake.

“Charlize-“ his voice was a low growl, one that they were rarely on the receiving end of, “what were you thinking? The Enforcer? The Grey Lady?”

There were many things that Viktor was not. And subtle or patient was rarely one of them. He was a man of engineering, and engineering had things to do. Even his feelings were frantic and oh so loud. A fast paced song that they could never get him to dance with them to.

Charlie sat up, legs flexing where they couldn’t move any longer. They stared at Viktor, maskless and frazzled, so they did not need to stare down. It was obvious what was happening with them. Their job had them support their own weight, move it around and manipulate it.

Charlie knew that they were lighter now.

“You needed someone to go. The auction had Blitz’s tech, I needed to get it back for you.” Their arms supported them as they got into a straight sit. Legs aching. “How were any of us to know it was a set up for Ferros to go after someone? Lets face it, shady blackmarket deals is kind-of what I do for you.”

“No!” His arms flew wide, third arm pulling at his hair slightly. A habit to calm himself. “You’re a fucking acrobat Charlie! That is your job, one that I know you love! I don’t need you to be doing any of this!”

They threw up their hands, a sign that he would know was them condescending. With him trying to remove his emotions, how could they explain that they had to go after his technology because it would make him feel better. That their decision was purely emotional.

He took a deep breath, one they could almost feel in his song, and dragged his hands down his face.

“You are an important person. To the Cirque, to the Evolution.”

They bit their tongue, stopping themselves from making an inappropriately snarky comment. One to hide the hurt of him not mentioning himself. Once upon a time, he would have brought up that they were important to him.

But that was just being selfish. Viktor had his hands, all three, full with the prosthetics and surgeries he was doing. Important work.

“Just say it Vik. It was stupid and reckless.” They shrugged, listening to the frantic thrum of him. Hoping it would calm it down. “Not your fault, but mine.”

Just facts. The highest proof of something. Facts over feelings, right?

But he didn’t speak again for a while. Time that they used to finally face their own facts. Looking down, they traced the outline of their legs under the sheets. From their hips, to thigh, then cut off. The blade of the Grey Lady, the Steel Shadow of Piltover, cut clean through above their knee.

As they tried to flex the muscles, it didn’t work properly. The ends of them not anchored right. The end of their acrobatic career. But they pioneered a new type of magic with their studies before their performances. One that they could devote their time to now, right?

The tears darkened the sheet, hot and streaming steadily. Breath caught in their chest, a fault of emotion not physiology.

Step, clank, step, clank, step.

Viktor left the room, leaving them alone. Would the Cirque really care for them, now that they could not perform for them? Their parents didn’t care, their debt to the family paid off. Viktor suppressing any care in him. With his song gone, they were acutely aware of how alone they were.

Their own feelings, a song they thought they were deafened to, bounced off the walls of the empty room. Empty beds and empty chairs around them, just as their parents had warned. They could not leave the room, basically becoming a cell all their own. Just like would have waited for them had they stayed in Demacia.

Was their fate ultimately to always end up trapped?

Their breath quickened, and their legs twitched and magic buzzed beneath their skin. It did not come, instead the magic uselessly flowing to their legs and not returning. Trying to heal something that it was never meant too.

The metal walls only caused it to bounce back to them. An echo chamber for their unheard songs. Dragging them into their unfortunate thought spiral. Getting louder and louder in their magic which deafened them to everything.

When a hand rested upon their shoulder, it all stopped.

“Charlie, I’m going to remove the sheet.”

Viktor’s voice was far softer now, his song still frantic but not unusually so. The tempo off and instruments of his emotions not in sync. He must have used some of his chems to force himself to be calm.

They moved their hands so he could, turning their head to hide their distaste. The cut of their legs was clean, not shocking from a professional. If one of the Glorious Evolution was not there to cauterize the wounds, they would have died of bloodloss quite quickly. The young man’s chem induced calm likely being the only thing that saved their life.

But perhaps it would have been better if there were no such chems.

Charlie’s leg jumped at the feeling of cold metal, not at all the overly warm metal of Viktors augments. They swore, turning back to him before stopping.

Beside their leg was an intricately made full leg. Copper swirled in filigree above matte red and blues. The metalwork being among the finest he had made. Large enough to fit over their thigh. Long enough that it would have covered their entire leg. The feet being just their size.

“I can create the inner workings of a prosthetic for you, but…” His taking the calming chems made more sense as they looked over the fine craftsmenship. “Is this the shell of them you would want? Something plainer can be created, if it’s too much.”

An engagement gift. It wasn’t among the finest metalwork Viktor had made, but would have been the finest to date.

They looked to him, their eyes wide. Brown meeting his own dark blue. Exhausted rings around his, a stubble that would have taken him too many days without shaving to achieve. Third hand resting upon their shoulder and rubbing small circles.

On his knees beside their bed.

“You made me leg braces?”

Like the one he wore, but so much more. Just, more. Something they could wear in their performances. The points where they were most themselves, they would wear his finest work.

“A pair, yes.” One of his hands shook the spare one. Looking away to focus on his creation. “You hold onto Demacian Aesthetic Principles, and symmetry is a good thing, yes? And I was testing out some engineering that could give you options should your gravitational magic is not enough. I tested the heels, but they should be able to dampen the shock of large falls. Possibly even reducing them into their entirety because of the hydraulics-“

Charlie leaned forward and put a hand on his cheek. The frantic pace of his song increasing as everything was beginning to sound in tune. Accidentally wearing the chems away with the sheer frantic nature of the moment. A spiral downwards into emotion.

“Viktor, I would love for those to be the shells.” Their thumb rubbed against him, and they watched his eyes flit back and forth as he thought. “I just want to be sure what all you are asking me; will you marry me?”

They heard a group of wind instruments pause, a group of the assistants, nurses, and helpers of his Glorious Evolution listening in. With the augments he gave them, no doubt.

But his slight laughter against their hand pulled their thoughts from that. His eyes darting back to theirs as he leaned into their hand.

“How is it even when I’m on my knee, you propose?” All three of his hands rested on them. One a cheek, one at their waist, the third kept to their shoulder. A tired smile and the craftsmanship telling them how long he had thought of this. “But I need to be certain that you are not accepting because of a fear-“

“In my trunk with the Cirque, there is a cloak that is enchanted and made with the finest materials that I could get my hands on.” It was a task to keep their focus on his eyes, to not draw themselves inward. To not revert back to the childhood habit of taking up as little space as possible. “I ask you as someone who has spent the last five years loving you.”

They could not force a smile upon their face. Not because it wasn’t a happy moment, but because they needed him to know that this was serious to them. That they meant the words they said. That they spent nearly five hundred hours embroidering and enchanting the gift they were too scared to give him.

“My Gravity,” they flushed as the new nickname, knowing how important he thought such things; the heat of both his hands upon their cheeks; the intensity of his stare, “I will spend the rest of my days returning to you, for as long as you would have me.”

They laughed a bit, leaning into him as their hands went to hide their face. Ears reddening and curling into themselves. New leg to be accidentally falling to the ground.

“You could have just said yes.”

Their own song was humming in their ears, heartbeat acting as the drumline. His laughter adding more to the music.

His hands shifted, letting him shift them further onto the bed, and he climbed up. Not nearly as armored as usual, the thin fabric of his shirt warming them up. Literally being soft around them. They hid further into their hands.

Pillows were shuffled, him trying to find a comfortable way to lay down in the bed that was too small for him. Legs bent where theirs was propped against him. Not saying a thing about how he curled around them as if to protect them.

Charlie did elbow him about it.

“So,” he whispered into their hair, “do you think I will have to tell my mother about this? Or will the others whom were totally working and not listening in will?”

They laughed into their hands and his chest.

“Would you risk her not hearing it from you the first moment you see her next?” Hands were moved, trying to figure out the new comfortable. Still tucked under his chin. “If the first thing you say to her is not ‘I got engaged’ or ‘They Said Yes’, she will hold it over you for the rest of your life. Frankly, you should call her now.”

“Maybe.” It was a hum against their head. “You need rest though. I noticed that your mana has been draining and it has been impacting your vitals for days. Sleep, more sugars to keep yourself balanced, and low activity until I can at least make a temporary prosthetic to stop the magic from draining.”

“Can I ask one thing?”

Another hum.

“Can you kiss me?” They could feel and hear the curious and amused look on his face. Whether it was their magic or just seven years of knowing him was not as important. “We did just get engaged, I did just wake up from a major injury, and it has been over a week since the last time.”

One of his hands tilted their chin uncomfortably high as he stooped at an equally uncomfortable level on the bed. But it was still a kiss that they loved dearly.

[gauntlets-shot]

just--a--jinx

“No—and for the record, I never hinted that you go up to Piltover. I just think there is another safer way of going about this.” 

Sharp, appraising eyes snapped up to Caitlyn. 

“‘…Safe?’” Jinx echoed the word as though she was unfamiliar with its meaning. 

Safer for who? 

No. No no no. This wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right. This stupid Topsider wasn’t making any sense. 

“Do you have some sort of secret passage way to Silco? Perhaps we could use those and…Never mind, we will figure out what to do on the way.”

And what?

Shoot him! A loud voice crowed in the back of Jinx’s head. 

Tie him up! Another suggested.

Stick pins in his eyes! A third voice interjected. 

There was no way Hat Lady was going to be down with that. It was as though the enforcer realised this, what with how quickly the suggestion tapered off into nothing. Whatever. It didn’t matter anyway. They weren’t doing this the ‘enforcer way’. That had never been part of the deal. 

“But first, can we please get something to eat? And you can’t leave me here to die. Do you really think getting to Silco and making it through Silco’s thugs will be easy? You can’t do this alone…plus call me empathetic, but I’m worried about your current mental state. That might cloud your judgement, don’t you think? Also if you let me die here, more enforcers will be sent down here. One of us dies and ten more show up. Then you’ll have to deal with them and Silco’s forces.”

“Uuuuuuuugh fine, whatever!” Jinx groaned. At least if the stupid enforcer was eating she wasn’t going to be making dumb suggestions or trying to steer Jinx in the direction she wanted under the guise of it being Jinx’s idea. 

Getting to Silco would be easy. Doing it with an enforcer was the challenge. Did Hat Lady realise what was being sacrificed just so she could have her little piece of the cake? Talk of bad judgement, empathy and repercussions fell on deaf ears. By that point, Jinx had already selected a direction and begun to walk. Yup. Taking an enforcer to get food. That was normal. Zaun’s finest for the Topside lady! Haha. Where would they go? Did this mean the next decision was going to be a Jinx decision? It was only fair that they got to take turns. 

“Listen, Hat Lady, if I was gonna kill ya, I’d pick something cooler than Slow Annoying Hunger Death.” Jinx drawled as she picked a route back towards the busy markets. It’d be easier to blend in there. Soon the smell of fish, hot pies and mystery soups began to fill the air. They were a team. At least for now. And teammates gave each other fair warning, right? 

My sister’s dead and you’re kinda buggin’ me. 

I wasn’t gonna kill ya, so stop making it sound so fun. 

A broad gesture pointed out the array of food stalls.

Pick one. 

“Maybe we should set a trap.” Jinx suggested, switching abruptly to a tone of false affability now that they were navigating busy streets. Acting upset and vulnerable only put a target on your head in The Lanes. Nope. Dead sister thoughts were promptly boxed up and buried in the darker recesses of Jinx’s mind as they wove through the market together. 

She was good at traps. You could control the variables with a trap. Single people out. It was early enough that there was no real confirmation that Jinx had changed sides. All of Silco’s warmth and guardianship undone in the space in one afternoon…he’d need more than just rumours to believe it. 

“Jinx goes poof, Silco comes looking. Easy.” 

No Vi. No Silco. 

Hell, once it was over, Hat Lady would be gone too. 

Alone. All alone.

Jinx shook the ugly thought from her head.

In all fairness, Caitlyn thought Jinx could find some sort of enjoyment in watching her starve to death. Clearly Jinx liked deaths that were more gruesome, perhaps more festive but was there no thrill to watch Caitlyn die slowly? Then if she did die, it wouldn't be by Jinx's hand and she'd be off Scott free—Caitlyn quickly shook her head and pursed her lips. It was just the hunger making her have such ridiculous thoughts, that's all it was. Thankfully, the blue haired girl began to walk and Caitlyn followed without any hesitation.

Caitlyn took a look at her options once Jinx had successfully guided her to some food. They were markets, sort of like Piltover except way less fancy. Down here, they were all huts held together by sticks and cloth. It was a hard contrast but Caitlyn absorbed the scene quickly so that she could find something to eat. She spotted some fish nearby and despite smelling amazing, it didn't quite look it. She tried not to make a face at the charred meal but desperate times called for desperate measures. Plus they were technically on the run still.

She went to grab a few pieces of fish before she paused. Caitlyn didn't have any money. It had surely been looted from her person when she was captured. Curse it all. She looked towards Jinx but only for a second. If the blue haired girl did have any money, why on earth would she give it to her? Sighing, Caitlyn looked around again before she noticed some of the gold finishes on her uniform. Gold should've held its current value even down here, right? She hesitated before she tore off a small chunk. She turned it over in her hand before she grabbed the fish and offered it to the shop keeper. "Will this cover it?" Caitlyn asked but the shop keeper looked more than satisfied. She must have overpaid. No matter, she had gotten food hassle free.

"A trap?" Caitlyn asked as she took a bite from one of her sticks of fish. She let Jinx explain herself before she shrugged. "That's not a bad idea." She wanted the food to be in her system so she could think properly but either way, it really wasn't a bad idea. "Would you care to elaborate on that idea?" Caitlyn asked as the pair began to walk again. Word would get around that Jinx was with some enforcer and that said enforcer paid a shop keeper in literal gold for a few fishes. That clearly wasn't something that happened everyday.

💣EVERYBODY PANIC!💣

Vi. 

The name ached in her brain, wrenching forth a sea of memories soaked in vile anger and tenderness. 

Your sister is dead. 

How many times had Silco uttered the words? Soothing every fear, wound and anxiety Vi had left along with her sister on the bridge that fateful night. But that wasn’t the truth, was it? Vi had never been dead. Just…gone, and Silco was fighting to keep it that way. It was an earth shattering revelation, hearing Silco’s hushed, urgent conversations about ‘dealing’ with family as though it were some ugly wound that needed lancing. What had really driven the sense of anger and betrayal deep was Silco’s pointed silence on the topic when Jinx returned for his daily medication. There had been a time where the routine was tender, where they’d shared secrets with one another and upheld a pact of honesty. But Vi’s name never left Silco’s lips. He was lying about her. He was trying to keep her a secret. 

The knowledge made Jinx want to drive the needle deep into Silco’s eye. Over and over and over and over. 

She did not. 

The one shred of self restraint holding back the tidal wave of anger and hurt from challenging her so-called father figure was the knowledge of the person tied in the other room. An enforcer. An enforcer that for some reason, had been talking to Vi about something that Silco didn’t like. But if Silco didn’t like Vi, who was the real enemy? The thoughts writhed in an agitated, wounded mess, battling with each other in a fruitless effort to make sense of it all. If Silco found out that she knew about Vi, everything would speed up. No. She’d heard Silco’s side of things in the whispers he exchanged when he believed she wasn’t listening. What about their prisoner? What did she know? 

It hadn’t been difficult to find where they’d been keeping her. Marcus and Silco had been spending the better part of the day formulating some convoluted plan of attack. As Jinx moved soundlessly past Silco’s office, she heard the two inside, hours deep into a debate on this shiny new enforcer’s life. 

Jinx entered the holding room noiselessly from above, perching on the rough, dusty rafters to stare down at the woman tied to the chair. She didn’t look as old as the other enforcers Jinx had learned the faces of. A cold distance filtered into Jinx’s gaze while she watched the enforcer as though she were a spider Jinx hadn’t decided whether or not to stomp on. 

“Ugh, I thought they’d never leave.” The snide commentary sounded from above as Jinx swung her legs over one of the wooden beams. 

“Y’know, it’s not sounding good for you in the old Decisions Room. Guess you should’ve kept outta the way.” 

There was a soft thump as Jinx hopped down from her vantage point, strolling absently towards the door to fix a makeshift barricade. She didn’t want any interruptions, after all. This chat was going to be important. 

Jinx’s voice softened to something dangerously quiet. Tender, with the threat of teeth. 

“…But you didn’t.” 

Jinx hooked around to the enforcer, imposing an unsettling lack of distance between them as she leaned into the unsettling behaviour that so often prized results from people. 

“Let’s talk about that.”

(( Starter for @gauntlets-shot ))