#stillwater: hope

[haleyincarnate]

Could you refuse me if I asked you to point again at the horizon, to tell me something was worth waiting for?

Ada Limón, The Hurting Kind; "Stillwater Cove"

[b4kuch1n]

Hi hi I was wondering if you could perhaps make your silly strings artwork of Leon (the gold themed artwork) available as a phone case on Redbubble? It is one of my most favorite art pieces ever and I am getting a new phone and would be thrilled to have it on me at all times. If not I totally understand! Thank you for your time!

ayyy it should be available now! I had to fudge with the placement bc phones love to have giant camera squares nowaways lmao

[violentdevotion]

fucking cowards. if i was in the writing room stillwell would've breastfed that grown man

[mariposaortiz]

❛  are you sure you can do this on your own?  ❜

@psychedelicsunflwr

"Uh..." Moving was definitely something familiar. At this point, Mariposa considered herself to be a goddamn expert in moving all of her shit from point A to point B in damn near record time. She'd moved so damn much in the past ten years that it had to be some sort of record, especially with all of the shit the kids came with as they shuttled from apartment to apartment (or, well, sometimes to couch but she liked to think they were hopefully past those days). This move had been something of a surprise, a landlord issue, and the time crunch was a little more pressing than usual. Still fine, though. She still made it work. She always made it work. The truck had been mostly unloaded, she was exhausted and all she really wanted was a shower and a cigarette. Almost done, and she'd done most of it on her own. "....Going with a solid probably here, but if I could get you to open the door and lure you upstairs with the promise of beer and pizza I think I'd be in much better shape."

[satan-plundered-our-oceans]

Can you do some headcanons or stories on arcane? Specifically Vi or Sevika if your comfortable. I was just wondering but if you don't want to then you don't have to, you have free will.

Know that you're loved!

★。／ !bark like you want it! ＼。★

pairing: vi x f!reader, sevika x f!reader (separate)

fandom: arcane

word count: 1,470

tw: canon typical swearing/slang, some light spoiler warnings, and MDNI content, mainly because we know these are some dominant ass women ;) 

THIS IS NSFW CONTENT! BE WARNED!

song title: bark like you want it by sir mix-a-lot

notes: i love my girl vi so this request was a given, thank you anon! Hope you enjoy! :D I normally didn't like Sevika as much, but I will admit, writing her head canons for this post definitely made me reconsider

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

↳˗ˏviˎ˗ ↴

Vi is (without a doubt) very rough around the edges

She’s street-smart but she doesn’t really know what to do when it comes to actual romantic relationships, sex is easy, feelings are hard 

Her time in Stillwater makes her distrustful of people, along with her generally traumatic and difficult childhood, so it will probably take a while for her to begin to see you in a less-than-threat way

After that things are pretty smooth

You don’t really know where the split between ‘friendship’ and ‘relationship’ is, because they both include her joking, flirtatious personality ranging from skirting touches on your thighs and up your back, or teasing pet names like ‘sweetheart’, ‘cupcake’ and ‘love’

Other than that she’s very protective of you, especially if you live in Zaun

If you go out on errands she’ll always make sure she’s conveniently there at the times you like to go, able to loop an arm around your waist and guide you through the crowds

If someone is stupid enough to try and pull something on either one of you, Vi is not above beating the shit out of someone to keep them from laying a hand on you

I have a feeling that she’d confess to you accidentally in the middle of a fight

Perhaps she had been disappearing for long periods of time, and coming back bloodied and injured, refusing to tell you anything of her adventures (mainly because she doesn’t want to worry you). And eventually you pester her for a bit too long and begin a full verbal fight, where she suddenly blurts that she loves you

Now as a lover?

The teasing banter still remains, her little playful nicknames too, if anything they get worse. But she gets more confident with her touches, more deliberate. A hand in your backpocket while you’re walking, an arm around your shoulder, pinching your ass when you’re waiting outside a store, this girl has no shame

! mdni content below !

Now, i have a feeling that Vi isn’t really uneducated when it comes to sex

If anything i feel like she’s a fast learner-

The first time you actually lie together, Vi is sure to take it at your own pace, eager to please beneath a taunting smile, even if you don’t know what you like at first, she’s likely to find it quickly 

I personally don’t see Vi as owning too many sex toys - if any at all - but i think she would 100% favour using her fingers to anything else

Just the way you clench down on them, how she can use the rough calluses on the pad of her thumb on your clit to her advantage, and how deep she can pry, anything to make you scream for her

To be honest? I also 10000% expect her to try and flip you over and put you in a chokehold with her forearm tight against your throat, just adding enough delicious pressure to hitch your breath, but never enough to hurt too much

9/10

Her oral game would be fucking good too, i can tell. But she’d probably prefer to finger you or use a strap-on so she can continue to tease you with all these sinful little things she can come up with while she fucks into you

I’d say more of a biter, but she can still eat you out like a starving woman

Oral game 7/10

Aftercare is important to her, always making sure that she wasn’t too rough with you, cleaning you up, running you a bath or just lying with you to cuddle. Wants to make sure you know that you’re more important to her than some casual fling, and that she wants to ensure your happiness above anything

(Also gives you some balm for the definite bruises on your thighs and throat :D)

↳˗ˏsevikaˎ˗ ↴

Sevika is… intense

In all honesty, probably started as enemies

She probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you unless you already worked with Silco, so we could say you started in the shimmer warehouses, helping to distribute it throughout Zaun

You get your work done effectively, so Sevika overall sees you as a valuable position in the business, and keeps you around without much complaint

At some point Silco requested you deliver a hefty batch of shimmer to a more dangerous part of the Undercity, and sent Sevika with you to ensure no messes were left behind

Safe to say, you were ambushed

Despite Sevika being there to ‘protect’ you, you’re still able to hold your own, displaying proficient skill with your weapons against bandits who thought they could steal some of the shimmer vials. In the carnage, Sevika decides begrudgingly that she has respect for you

From there, it’s less of a ‘friendship’ and more of a drinking buddy situation

She doesn’t often tolerate the presence of others in her private time, so you label it as a friendship initially

She’s slightly more soft-spoken when she’s alone with you, and shares her cigars with you while she’s gambling, which often earns a strange look from her opponents as you hover over her mechanical shoulder with her cigar hanging from between your lips to see her hand, a bit too close

But Sevika lets you be without anything more than a bit of a grumble

I don’t think she’d even particularly say outright that she loves you

What happens is - instead - that you both have a drinking binge at the pub one night, after a successful night of gambling, and you both get absolutely shit-faced

While drunk she drags you back to her house and the night is filled with hazy sex, enthusiastic makeouts and early-morning cigarette smoke

You try to sneak out the next morning, expecting it to only be a one-night thing

She catches you (i headcanon that she’s a pretty light sleeper, but i suppose that could be said for most Zaunites). I don’t think she’d even say it then, just drag your ass back to bed for a (consensual) round two

After that you go to the bar together as normal, go about your business, now with the added bonus of Sevika protectively snarling at a drunk guy hitting on you by saying ‘that’s my spouse, fuck off’

(And of course, with plenty of sneaky sex between your deliveries and hurried makeouts :D)

! mdni content below !

BUCKLE YOUR SEATBELTS MFS, THIS SHIT IS KINKY

I would like to clarify, you will never top in this situation, Sevika would rather die than bottom to anyone, no matter how much she loves you

Spanking, spanking, spanking, spanking–

Hickeys, bruises, bite marks, the red tracks of her nails over your back, just anything that would leave even the most fleeting mark on your skin

That being said, would also 100% leave hickeys on places she knows you can’t hide easily

Definitely into sex toys (ball gags, bondage, strap ons and vibrators with little remotes she can keep in her pocket just in case, she especially likes to plant down one of those dildos with the suction cups and get you to ride it, all the while begging for her to just touch you, but she refuses, smoking as she watches you cry out for her)

She also likes crying-

I think she’d prefer to have you from behind, your back against her chest, ramming into you with one of her favourite straps, one hand pinching at your nipples, tweaking them between her fingers, and the other rolling tight circles on your clit, sometimes switching one out to wrap around the column of your throat

Definitely into edging on most days, and will resort to overstim if she’s happy with the work you’ve done in the day

Risky sex is definitely her thing, in her office in Silco’s base, in the warehouse on the crates of shimmer, under her desk, you on your knees to service her

She’s especially rough, and absolutely loves some degradation, and the way it makes you clench around her strap or her fingers, your eyes rolling back into your head while you scream for her

Aftercare is rarely over-the-top

She’ll cuddle you if you ask her explicitly but she prefers to share a cigar with you, or blowing smoke into your open mouth while you breathe against her bare chest

If she’s been unable to fuck you for some time, she’ll clean you up after about four or five rounds, mainly by eating you out until you end up giving her another two, but she’ll make sure you’re clean before you pass out anyway

Despite everything, Sevika will always make sure she doesn’t go to far

If anyone asks though, she will absolutely deny how she always makes sure you remember your safeword before you have sex after a makeout

thanks for the request anon!

if you have any more requests don't hesitate to ask :)

[archangeldyke-all]

Something with like cellmate prisoner!sevika?! 😭😭😭 idk I just think like her being all dangerous and powerful, having a shit ton of friends but like selectively, no one messing with her maybe even hating how just mean she is. And then comes in reader and yk. I’d love if the story was smutty but u can chose ofc 🫦

i love this so much

men and minors dni

living in zaun is shit. but the one thing that's always kept you and a majority of your fellow citizens in line, was the ever-looming presence of stillwater prison just a few miles away. you've watched countless people enter those prison walls. you know very few who ever came back out.

and now, through a series of unfortunate events that lead to you assaulting an undercover enforcer, you're going to find out first hand just how horrible stillwater really is.

you don't think you've ever been so nervous in your life as the enforcer guides you-- restrained and already hating the itchy fabric of your new life-long uniform--down a long, long hall of cells.

he's chewing a wad of bubblegum, casually, like you aren't about to piss yourself with nerves. "listen kid." he says, looking you up and down. "i read your file. seems like you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." he says, shrugging. "no prior arrests, clean record-- honestly i'm surprised they sent you here, but i guess you did break marcus' nose." the enforcer chuckles here.

"you know that asshole?" you ask. the man guiding you snorts.

"'s my boss." he mumbles. beside you, a prisoner lunges at the bars of their cell, screaming at you. you jump, and the guard laughs. "as i was sayin'-- you seem like a real peach. like you'd be a good influence on some of our... rougher prisoners." he mumbles.

dread starts to curl in your stomach. you have a pretty good idea of where this conversation is headed, and you don't like the outcome. you just hope you aren't cellmates with someone real bad: like genie the counter-fitter who got caught two years ago; esmee the weapons expert who successfully set an entire square block of piltover's wealthiest neighborhood ablaze; or, god forbid, sevika.

she'd been caught just weeks ago, smuggling an entire airship's worth of shimmer into piltover's loading docks. it was big fucking news.

sevika's a big fucking deal.

and you want absolutely nothing to do with her.

which is why, of course, the guard pulls you to a stop right outside of the only cell with a light on, the low, dim glow of a reading lamp and the quick flickering light of a lighter. you feel like you're gonna barf.

sitting in the shadows of the cell, puffing on a hand-rolled cigarette, sits sevika, silco's second in command.

if he's the eye of zaun, she's the arm. he might be watching-- but she's doing. she's nothing but bad news; everything you've tried your best to avoid while living in the undercity.

well, look how well that turned out for you.

"sevika, meet your new cellmate." the enforcer calls out. a pair of silver eyes snap up from her book and lock on yours. you shiver.

"fucks' wrong with her?" she mumbles. you gulp.

"nervous, i'd assume. 's her first-offense." the guard says. he shoves you into the cell and you jump as the bars slam shut behind you. "you ladies have fun." he says, before turning and walking away, the smacks of his gum echoing behind him.

sevika inspects you from her chair.

"how'd you fuck up so bad you ended up in a cell with me from your first offense?" she asks, seemingly intrigued.

"punched an undercover enforcer." you whisper. sevika's eyebrow hitches up, a little amused.

"yeah?"

"think his name was marcus, or something." you mumble. she sputters.

"ha! really!?" she asks, a little smile growing on her face. you nod. she takes a drag off her cigarette, then points at the bunk beds. "i get bottom. don't go thinkin' 'cause we're cellmates it means you get to touch my shit. i got people outside pullin' big favors for met to get shit like this." she gestures to her cigarettes and lamp. you nod. "don't look so nervous. i won't bite unless you piss me off."

you try to stop shivering. you don't succeed. "s-sorry."

she studies you for a moment, her smile growing as she does. though she's no longer armed with shimmer, her arm's still in perfect working condition, five little daggers gently tapping on the table top as her eyes dart across you. "you from the lanes?" she asks. you nod. she snorts. "you know who i am?" she asks. you nod again. she chuckles, then stands. she approaches you, circling around you like you're prey, then chuckling and leaning back against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "you scared'a me?" she asks.

"shouldn't i be?" you choke out.

it seems to be the right answer. sevika laughs, then sits back down at her table, picking her book back up, chuckling intermittently for minutes after.

she's not a bad roommate. she's surprisingly tidy, always quiet, her nose usually buried in a book. she smokes like a fucking chimney, and you've come to find she gets her tobacco-- and sometimes a bit of weed-- from one of the guards every tuesday night.

she's got special privileges among most of the guards. they're always sneaking her books and flasks, letting her get away without cell-searches, letting her read past lights out and have lighters and screwdrivers and other dangerous, weapon-like tools.

you, on the other hand, do not have these privileges. and, keeping in line with sevika's one and only rule, you don't touch her shit. all of this means that while sevika smokes and works on her arm and reads and works out, you spend your time just... sitting on the top bunk. watching her.

sometimes, during open cell time, she gets visitors. you're surprised that none of these visits end in shady dealings-- sevika doesn't seem to need to trade her stash of goods for anything. most of her visits are quick, and most end the same way: a small scrap of paper being shoved in sevika's hand.

she burns the scraps after she reads whatever's on them.

she's... pleasant, sometimes. it's rare, but it happens. one day, you'd forgotten to make your bed before you went to breakfast. you returned to find it neatly made, and when you thanked her for helping you avoid trouble with the guards, she had just waved it off. "don' get used to it. i won't always be here to fix your mistakes."

once, a fight broke out while you were in the showers. you were sent back to your cell soaking wet-- your hair still lathered in shampoo. she had chuckled, called you a "wet rat", and helped you rinse your hair out in the tiny sink in your cell.

and... she's kinda pretty. it occurred to you one evening while the two of you were partaking in your nightly routine: sevika reading in her chair while you study her, pretending to sleep. she'd glanced up at you and whispered. "why're you always lookin' at me?"

you shrugged, then nearly choked on your tongue when 'you're pretty' almost slipped out of your mouth. "uh... i got nothing else to look at." you'd ended up saying. she seemed to accept this.

"you don't have any prison girlfriends?" you ask. sevika's in a particularly jovial mood today: the note she'd been delivered earlier in the afternoon must've had great news. she's decided to share her joint with you. the question slipped out the second you took your first puff-- your tolerance astronomically low from being without for so long.

sevika laughs. "nah."

"but..." you cut yourself off before you get yourself in trouble, biting your lip. sevika chuckles, then nudges your leg.

"y' can say it." she says. you smile at her, then speak.

"it's just... i had a few friends who work at babette's." you say. "i figured you'd have as much of a reputation here as you do there."

she takes a second, tilting her neck side to side as it cracks, then sighing. "i got shit to do in here." she says simply. you raise an eyebrow at her, biting your lip again, and she chuckles. "say it." she demands again.

"you just read all day." you laugh. sevika nods.

"i'm... working." she says. you just nod along, pretending you understand what she's alluding to.

it happens in the strangest way but you and sevika start to become... friends.

she sits alone at lunch, and you sit alone too, on the oppisite side of the cafeteria. but you're so used to looking at sevika, that you find yourself watching her even when there are much more entertaining things to look at, like the handful of fights that break out every meal.

you notice she loves the jello cups you guys get once a week. so you pocket yours and toss it at her later that night. the way she smiles lights up the room even brighter than her tiny lamp. you make it a habit.

she starts loaning you her books, finds you a crate to sit on by her table while you guys read together at night.

and when sevika gets jumped in the middle of the night-- you don't even question it before you jump out of your bunk, grab sevika's screwdriver where she left it on the table, and start swinging in the dark, blindly.

"what the fuck?" someone squawks when you manage to stab something in the dark.

"what?" sevika whispers in the dark.

"sevika, your bunkmate fucking stabbed me!" her attacker's voice rings out.

a light flicks on. you cringe at the sudden brightness, then blink in confusion as sevika and a guard with a screwdriver sticking out of their shoulder stare at you.

sevika's grinning. the guard is scowling. you hold your hands up in shaky fists, preparing for a fight. sevika chuckles.

"relax, sweetheart." she says, swinging her arm around you and tugging you into her side. "ran's a friend." she whispers into your ear. you blink at the bleeding guard, then back at sevika.

"so, what, we're taking your girlfriend with us now?" the guard-- ran-- asks. sevika looks at her friend, then looks at you, a calculating look in her eye. she smirks, shrugs, then looks back at the guard.

"she threw herself between me and a uniform-- can't just throw that kinda loyalty out, now can i?" she asks, smiling.

you don't know what's happening. you're about to ask-- when suddenly you black out.

the first thing that comes back to you is your sense of hearing.

voices.

"sevika, fuck, you can't just throw a wrench in the plan like this--"

"i can do whatever the fuck i want--"

"on the night of the breakout?! no heads up!?"

"do i need to remind you which one of us is second in command, here?!"

"...fuck. c'mon, help me load her in the van."

the next thing is your sense of touch. you're laying on the rumbling cold steel of a van floor-- currently in motion.

you're shivering, but then something warm and wool and smelling like cigars is draped over you.

you're head keeps bumping uncomfortably with every crack in the road. someone gently picks your head up and puts it in their warm nap, a hand coming down to scratch your scalp.

your voice comes next. "mmmh?"

"it's okay." sevika's voice comes. you groan, cracking your eyes open, only for her face to be grinning down at you. "fuckin' maniac." she giggles.

"wha?" you groan. you're seeing double, your head is pounding.

"ran knocked you out. 's what you get for stabbin' 'em." sevika chuckles. "but, you're lucky, 'cause they don't hold a grudge. they helped me lug your ass outta stillwater."

"wha?!" you ask again, snapping up. sevika laughs as you look out the front window of the van-- the depths of piltover surrounding you as you head, presumebly, to the last drop.

you recognize the man driving-- a tall, muscular, tattooed man who'd recently been added to your cell block's guard rotation. in the passengers' seat sits the guard you'd stabbed-- bandaged and watching you with amusement.

"wha's happenin'?" you mumble, looking back at your cellmate as you clutch a hand to your throbbing head. you've been shrouded in a red cloak-- sevika's already out of her prison uniform and back in her 'second in command' look. she smirks at you.

"y' really think i was jus' sittin' around, servin' my time?" she asks. you shrug.

"figured somethin' was goin' on. y' kept gettin' those notes. didn't wanna ask." you groan. sevika chuckles.

"well, you shoulda. or i shoulda warned you, so you didn't try killing my crew." she chuckles. you blink over to the person in the passengers' seat, cringing.

"s-sorry." you mumble. they wave it off.

"'s cool. knocked you right the fuck out, didn't i?" they chuckle. "we're even."

you turn back to sevika. "you broke me out of prison?" you ask. she shrugs.

"'re you mad about it?" she asks. you gawk at her.

"uh... just... a little surprised?"

sevika cackles. you smile at the sound, despite your headache. "i wasn't plannin' on it! then you started givin' me your jello, 'n readin' all my books, 'n..."

"she's got a crush on you." ran fills in from the front.

"i didn't say that!" she shouts.

"she's not denying it though--" the man driving teases.

you choke on your spit. sevika huffs, rolls her eyes, and speaks. "i... i kinda got a crush on you, yeah." she mumbles. "and i swear i'm not sayin' this jus' 'cause i think you're cute but: you should really stay with us at the last drop until things calm back down, since, y'know... you're kinda wanted now..." she says, rubbing the back of her neck.

you blink... shocked.

you don't really know what to think. you tried your whole life to stay out of trouble, and it managed to find you anyways in the form of a drunken under-cover enforcer deciding to smack your ass when you'd had too many drinks to hold your punches. you tried to stay out of trouble in stillwater until you were saddled with sevika. you tried to stay out of trouble with her until she dragged you-- literally, you were unconscious!-- out of prison along with her. it seems like trouble's meant for you.

but if there's one thing you're certain of, it's sevika.

you smile at her, then reach up to cup her cheek. she looks more nervous than you've seen her in all your months in stillwater together.

"you gotta crush on me?" you ask. she gulps.

"i'd say it's a little more than a crush seeing she broke you outta stillwater as your first date--"

"ran!" sevika hollers. you chuckle.

"is this our first date?" you ask, raising your eyebrow at her. she shrugs.

"it's... jus' don't expect the next dates to be this exciting." she chuckles, rolling her eyes. you grin, then dart forward and press a kiss to her lips. when you pull away, she's wearing that same nervous look again.

"you okay?" you whisper. she licks her lips, nuzzles a bit against your hand on her face, and nods.

"'m just kickin' myself for not puttin' the moves on you sooner. coulda been fuckin' you to pass the time in prison instead of readin' all those boring books." she mumbles. you burst into laughter, and she grins.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

[arcanefandomweek]

Arcane Year 2 Event Week!

From November 7th to the 13th

#ArcaneYear2 / #ArcaneYearTwo

Let's celebrate Arcane on its second anniversary! All fanworks are welcome! In this special week, you have a choice of two themes, each with unique prompts.

What Could Have Been

Nov 7 : Faction Swap / First Time Nov 8 : Vander Lives / Broken Nov 9 : Hugs / Family / Grief Nov 10 : Food / Gift / Fix It Nov 11 : AU / Soulmate / Adoption Nov 12 : Nightmare / Kiss / Jealousy Nov 13 : Free Day / Goodbyes

What Could Yet Be

Nov 7 : Hextech / Ghost / Blood Nov 8 : Common Enemy / Warwick Nov 9 : Begging / Shimmer / Art Nov 10 : Chaos / Light / Promise Nov 11 : Noxus / Secrets / Fear Nov 12 : Machine Herald / Faith / Lies Nov 13 : Voices / Legacy / Hope

How does this work?

The "What could have been" prompts were chosen to fit fics or art (or meta, playlists, etc) set before or during season 1.

This includes ideas like "Heimerdinger used to travel the world before founding Piltover" set before canon, as well as missing scenes like "Viktor creating his hextech arm" during the time skip, or "Vi waking up in Stillwater".

The "What could yet be" prompts were chosen for speculation about season 2 and beyond.

This includes ideas like "my favourite LoL character definitely rocks into Zaun" or "Jinx frees Warwick" or "How Viktor becomes the Machine Herald"

You can mix and match! You can do one theme for day 1, the other for day 2... And on day 3 you could use the 'family' prompt to write a season 2 AU! Ultimately these prompts are to provide inspiration and a framework. I will not police submissions, so long as you respect the rules. Please read them well!

Rules | AO3 collection | Twitter | FaQ

Participation Bingo for readers and fans

[mariiilume]

ARCANE X INFECTION ROTTMNT AU

AxI Rottmnt (Arcane x Infection Au) follows the story of Aho, Lee, Donnie, and Ray As the main protagonists.

It follows a very similar story line to Arcane with a few twists! One being the Krang infection (replacing shimmer) as a threat to Topside. The undercity seems to have some form of immunity to it however, making it a wonderful weapon.

All things seem to get worse when Aho, an undercity criminal under the rule of the undercities top dog: Draxum, starts causing havoc as the hex stone is stolen, Leaving a realm of paranoia to be cast at the possibilities it could be used for.

It only gets worse when investigations for the case only dig deeper for finding the true origins of the mystery criminal, Usagi finds a prisoner from Stillwater: Lee who might know more about this then he’s letting on.

Ray, the creator of the hex tech is thrown into panic and responsibilities that she isn’t sure he knows the answers to. Only sinking deeper into trouble as the origins of his past are uprooted, and shown to the world.

While Donnie, leader of the fire lights is desperately trying to keep his people safe and out of trouble, the only one who knew the full story to what truly happened with the hexgem incident.

Follow the story as they unravel their past and future in a bundle of love and hate!

Aho (Previously Mikey): Plays the role of jinx

Leo/Lee: Plays the role of avi

Donnie/dee: Plays the role of Ekko

Raph/Ray: Plays the role of Jayce and Viktor

Usagi: Plays the role of Caitlyn

A few side characters!!

Draxum: Plays the role of Silco

Splinter: Plays the role of Vander

April: Plays the role of Clagger

Cassandra: Plays the role of Mylo

Karai: Plays the role of Mel

Big mama: Plays the role of sevika

Shredder: Plays the role of hiemidinger

WOOO FINALLY FINISHED ALL THE REFS!! I’ve been working hard to get a lot of content done. I hope you enjoy this silly little project! If enough people enjoy it, I may make a lil fic or smth! But prepare for more art, cuz it’s not gonna stop!!!

[ohsalome]

Дуже хуйово. As you know, the left bank of the Kherson oblast' affected by the flooding is under the control of russian occupiers, who don't allow any rescue missions and prevent us from even evaluating the scale of the destruction. Well, the word of mouth says they didn't do shit to help the people in the flooded villages and now there are HUNDREDS OF CORPSES drifting in the stillwater.

I feel sick. This is the most transparent example of genocide I can remember in my lifetime, and it is being literally translated online. The forced neutrality in the statements of some certain magazines and organisations is nothing but intentional complacency. Don't even get me started on the friends of kremlin. For their sakes, I hope hell exists.

(Source for anyone interested)

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Rotten to the Core - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Young Silco meets Margot in Stillwater.

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

TW: exploitative dynamics, power imbalances, threats of violence, physical assault, oral sex.

Snippet:

 Notes:

- Inmate to be assigned to solitary for duration of his sentence.

- Inmate's cell door has been reinforced with additional layers of steel.

- Inmate must remain muzzled at all times outside of his cell.

- All personnel are advised not to engage in direct contact with Inmate 238453 for any reason, excepting the administration of food and water, and the necessary maintenance of his physical needs.

- All guards are instructed to use maximum force against the inmate.

- Guards are not permitted to engage in conversation with the inmate.

Transcript from audio recording made at 1201, 11-13-1949, in the Stillwater Correctional Facility

Location: Solitary confinement cell

Inmate: (singing)

Guard: You've got a lovely voice.

Inmate: (scoffs)

Guard: It's not just flattery. You have a really beautiful voice.

Inmate: ...

Guard: Are you sure I can't give you anything to make the time go faster?

Inmate: ...

Guard: Anything I can bring you? Something to eat? A drink?

Inmate: (chuckles)

Guard: You know, there's nothing I can't get.

Inmate: I know.

Guard: What's that supposed to mean?

Inmate: You know.

Guard: No, I don't know.

Inmate: You're new here, aren't you?

Guard: How can you tell?

Inmate: A few reasons. First, because I haven't seen you before.

Guard: ...

Inmate: And second, because you're talking to me.

Guard: Why wouldn't I talk to you?

Inmate: Because the Warden ordered the guards not to.

Guard: Yeah, well. Fuck the Warden.

Inmate: Sssh. Don't let him hear you say that.

Guard: I can't stand the bastard. He treats everyone like dirt.

Inmate: I've noticed.

Guard: Is it true what they say? You beat up Dr. Madden, on the day of his visit, just to get moved here.

Inmate: ...

Guard: Because I can see why. You've got privacy. Space. A nice soft mattress and a clean toilet.

Inmate: And the best view in the house.

Guard: (laughs) What view?

Inmate: Oh, I don't know. Yours, for starters.

Guard: Yeah, you can't go wrong with a girl in uniform.

Inmate: Definitely not.

Guard: You got a real smart mouth, you know that?

Inmate: Do I?

Guard: I've had plenty of prisoners try to charm me. But you're the first one who acts like he already has.

Inmate: I hope it's a good thing.

Guard: It depends.

Inmate: On what?

Guard: What else you can do with your smart mouth.

Inmate: Oh?

Guard: Oh, yeah.

Inmate: Well. Maybe there's a thing or two I could show you.

Guard: Maybe you could.

Inmate: You'd have to open the door, first.

Guard: ...

Inmate: You won't regret it.

Guard: What makes you think I'd do such a thing?

Inmate: You want to.

Guard: Oh, do I?

Inmate: You're interested already, aren't you?

Guard: (breathing).

Inmate: Come a little closer.

Guard: I'm not supposed to.

Inmate: Just for a second.

Guard: Okay.

(Footsteps).

Inmate: Hmm. You've got the most gorgeous lips.

Guard: Thanks.

Inmate: And such a sweet smile.

Guard: Yeah?

Inmate: What kind of girl wears red lipstick under a guard's visor?

Guard: (laughs) A bad one.

Inmate: Very bad.

Guard: What about you?

Inmate: Oh, I'm already bad.

Guard: That's not what I meant.

Inmate: What then? You want to find out how bad?

Guard: ...

Inmate: Open the door.

Guard: (whispers) I can't.

Inmate: Oh, yes, you can.

Guard: The cameras.

Inmate: Nobody watches them.

Guard: You don't know that.

Inmate: I do. Solitary is a dead zone. Everyone's attention is on the cameras in the general population wing.

Guard: I can't risk it.

Inmate: What have you got to lose?

Guard: My job.

Inmate: They won't fire you.

Guard: Why wouldn't they?

Inmate: The place is short-staffed. They need every name on the roster, and then some.

Guard: But they might dock my pay.

Inmate: Or transfer you to a cushier spot.

Guard: Cushier?

Inmate: They're starting a parole program for tracking inmates. Check in on their progress after they've left the facility. It pays well.

Guard: How do you know?

Inmate: The new psychicker told me.

Guard: The psychicker?

Inmate: The jolly fellow from Bandle. The one with the paunchy jowl and buck teeth.

Guard: O'Neil?

Inmate: That's the one.

Guard: But they've been offering that job for weeks, and nobody's taken it.

Inmate: Why's that?

Guard: It's dangerous. Most of the parolees are from the Undercity. They'd sooner slit your throat than take orders.

Inmate: Only a small fraction. Most are low-level criminals. They're harmless.

Guard: Still. I don't like it.

Inmate: You're bored here, aren't you?

Guard: ...

Inmate: Admit it. You are.

Guard: Maybe.

Inmate: I'd hate to think that a sweet girl like you had to go all day and night, bored and lonely.

Guard: I'm not lonely.

Inmate: You're not?

Guard: Of course not. I'm surrounded by men. Trapped, and feisty, ready to explode.

Inmate: That gets you hot, huh?

Guard: Yeah.

Inmate: You can waltz up to any man's cage. Get up close and whisper in his ear. Let him get a whiff of your perfume. Tell him what's going to happen, watch him squirm, then walk away. Does it turn you on?

Guard: Yeah.

Inmate: So what's stopping you?

Guard: Nothing.

Inmate: Unlock the door.

Guard:  ...

Inmate: You won't regret it.

Guard: You've said that.

Inmate: And still, you're afraid.

Guard: I'm not afraid.

Inmate: No?

Guard: Of course not. You're locked up. You can't touch me.

Inmate: I could, if you let me.

Guard: If you think I'll fall for that—

Inmate: I won't lay a finger on you, unless you ask me to.

Guard: That's easy to say.

Inmate: I never make promises I can't keep.

Guard: And if you can't keep that one?

Inmate: You'll have my balls in a vice.

Guard: Yeah, I will.

Inmate: (sings)

Guard: You have a pretty voice.

Inmate: And a dirty mouth.

Guard: ...

Inmate: You could have my mouth, if you wanted.

Guard: ...

Inmate: (sings)

Guard: Fine. I'll let open the door. But we're going to do this on my terms.

Inmate: Anything you want.

Guard: Anything?

Inmate: Yes.

Guard: So, you'll do exactly what I say.

Inmate: Yes.

Guard: Get down on your knees.

Inmate: Alright.

Guard: Put your hands behind your back.

Inmate: Okay.

Guard: Now, I'm going to unlock the door. I'll put the key in my pocket. If you make a single move, or touch me without my permission, I'll pull out my baton, and break every bone in your body.

Inmate: I promise. I won't lay a finger on you.

Guard: ...

Inmate: ...

(sound of a key turning in a lock, and a door opening.)

Guard: Crawl over here.

Guard: On my knees?

Guard: That's right. Keep those hands behind your back.

Inmate: Like a good little doggie, hm?

Guard: Yeah, you've really got a smart mouth.

Inmate: And you've done this before.

Guard: Have I?

Inmate: Oh, I can tell. You like the Fissure-boys, don't you?

Guard: The girls, too.

Inmate: Of course you do. It's all about the filth. Rolling in it, then grinding it under your heel. Knowing it can never be more than a spot of fun. After, you can lock it right back in its cage.

Guard: You're pretty dirty yourself, aren't you?

Inmate: You've no idea.

Guard: I've had a few of your kind. They're all the same. All teeth, and empty stomachs.

Inmate: And a tongue that knows its way around a cunt.

Guard: Fuck, yeah.

Inmate: You like that, don't you? Putting the dirty ones to use.

Guard: That's what they're good for. Licking our boots, and crawling around on the floor, like dogs. 

Inmate:  You've done that before too, eh?

Guard: Maybe.

Inmate: Yeah, you have. And more than once. Gulled a desperate prisoner, and made him into a toy. Whored him out to the other guards for kicks. And a little extra clink of coin in your purse.

Guard: Yeah, it's a real rush.

Inmate: Is it?

Guard: Having total control.

Inmate: You can have that again.

Guard: Oh, yeah?

Inmate: I'm here, aren't I? At your feet. Hands behind my back. Ready to do anything you ask.

Guard:  I'm going to ask you to do a lot of things.

Inmate: (chuckles) I'll enjoy every one.

Guard: Take my skirt off.

Inmate: Alright.

(Sound of a belt being undone, and fabric rustling.)

Guard: Nice and slow.

Inmate: Like this?

Guard: Yeah, like that.

Inmate: Oh my. Not a stitch under that little uniform.

Guard: No.

Inmate: And such a soft, smooth cunt.

Guard: (breathing heavily)

Inmate: So wet already. Is that for me?

Guard: Don't flatter yourself.

Inmate: Do I need to? Your thighs are trembling.

Guard: Lick me.

Inmate: Like that?

Guard: Oh, fuck, yes.

Inmate: Mm.

Guard:  Gods, that mouth...

Inmate: Mmmmmm.

Guard: ...oh, fuck, I love that...

Inmate: What's your name?

Guard: I'm not—not supposed to tell you.

Inmate: It's only fair, since I'm lapping up every inch of your juicy little box.

Guard: Fuck, you are dirty.

Inmate: What's your name, peach?

Guard: Mar-Margot.

Inmate: Mmm. That's a sweet name. Sweet as you are.  

Guard: Keep licking. Fuck. Don't stop.

Inmate: Like that?

Guard: Yes! Oh, yeah, lick me, just like that. Fuck, oh fuck.

(sound of heavy breathing. sound of moaning.)

(sound of a blow, and a cry.)

Guard: Fucking hell!

Inmate: Poor peach. Did that hurt?

Guard: Let go of me, you fucking bastard!

Inmate: No, I don't think so.

Guard: You son of a bitch. You said—

Inmate: Yes, and I'm a lying sump-rat. Anyway, I don't make promises to your kind.

Guard: What's that supposed to mean?

Inmate: (sings)

Guard: Stop it. If I scream—

Inmate: Who will hear? I told you already. The wing's a dead zone. Nobody watches the cameras.

Guard: I'll report you—

Inmate: You'll report yourself. After all, it was your key that got you inside, wasn't it?

(silence and heavy breathing.)

Guard: What the fuck do you want?

Inmate: I have an itch, sweet peach. An itch I've had for a very, very, very long time. And you're going to scratch it.

Guard:  Oh gods. Please. No—

Inmate: Sssh. Nothing so indelicate. We're going to stay right here. With my hand wrapped around your pretty throat, and your back pressed up against the wall. And we'll have ourselves a little talk.

Guard: I—

Inmate: Ssssh. What did you think was going to happen, when you opened that door?

Guard: I thought—

Inmate: What? You'd let the sump-raker out of his cell, and he'd fall all over himself to please you. 

Guard: No, I—

Inmate: Yes, you did. You thought I'd eat your cunt like a starved man, and thank you for the chance. After all, that's where Fissure-trash belong, don't we? Kneeling, with your boot on our necks.

Guard: ...no, please, I'm sorry...!

Inmate:  Hush. I'm not angry. I'd grateful.

Guard: G-Grateful?

Inmate: The Kindred could've sent me a hundred guards. Each one old, and dumb, and ugly as boiled arse. And none of them would've been able to help me. Not the way a clever girl like you can.

Guard: H-how can I help you?

Inmate: You can start by listening.

Guard: O-Okay.

Inmate: Good. Tonight, you'll complete your rounds. Same as usual. You'll say nothing of our encounter. Tomorrow, and every day after, you'll visit my cell. Bring me what I ask.

Guard: What do you want?

Inmate: Books. Ink. Paper. I've a few messages to pass on.

Guard: What's to stop me from ratting you out?

Inmate: My hand at your throat.

Guard: ...

Inmate: That, and I'm right. You are bored. So bored you took a chance on a caged animal locked behind bars. Now, I'm giving you a purpose. Something exciting. Something fun.

Guard: ...

Inmate: There's a place for you, peach. A place where a clever, greedy, restless girl like you can be more than a cog. You like Fissure-boys on their knees, and Fissure-girls on a string, do you? You like to yank, and watch them dance. Well, there's a whole city of puppets down below. And I'm offering you the key. All you need to do is to leave my lock ajar.

Guard: I can't—

Inmate: Not often. Just now and then.

Guard: ...

Inmate: I've told you. I'm not angry. But the Kindred might be. If you refuse me.

Guard: (breathing heavily).

Inmate: Well?

Guard: I'll... I'll do it.

Inmate: (sings)

Guard: Stop singing. Gods, just stop!

Inmate: I always sing when I'm out of smokes.

Guard: I—I can get you cigarettes.

Inmate: Good. I'll expect a carton every night.

Guard: Okay.

Inmate: And books. And whiskey. And canned sardines.

Guard: Alright.

Inmate: And a knife, too.

Guard: Shit! No—I can't get a weapon in here.

Inmate: A letter opener, then.

Guard: Fuck, I don't like this.

Inmate: No. I imagine you don't. But you like a lot of other things, don't you?

Guard: ...

Inmate: I do think, when the time's right, you should transfer to that parole program.

Guard: Why?

Inmate: Because I'll be eligible in a year's time. And I've a feeling we'll get along better, when we're both outside Stillwater’s walls.

Guard: Fuck. You're crazy.

Inmate: So why are you nodding?

Guard: Because...

Inmate: You like that I'm crazy. And you know we can help each other.

Guard: ...

Inmate: Now, how about I let go of your neck? And you slip your skirt back on.

Guard: And then what?

Inmate: Oh, we'll see about it tomorrow.

Guard: (breathing heavily).

Inmate: You'll be back, peach. And, I suspect, you'll have a little something extra for me.

Guard: Maybe.

Inmate: That's a good girl. Now, go on. Get dressed.

(sound of rustling clothes.)

Guard: Bastard.

Inmate: Have a nice shift, peach.

(sound of door closing, and footsteps, and the key turning in a lock.)

(inmate resumes singing)

End recording.

Notes:

- Inmate is showing marked improvement in his behavior.

- Inmate shows receptiveness to toward rehabilitation.

- Inmate has requested to work with Doctor O'Neil.

- Inmate should remain muzzled at all times.

- All guards are advised not to engage in direct contact with Inmate 238453 for any reason.

Petition to Piltover Parole Board

Subject: Parole application for Inmate #238453.

Requestor: Stillwater Correctional Facility - Psych Ward - Dr. O'Neil

Summary:

After extensive study, we can conclude that Inmate 238453 exhibits excellent progress, both cognitively and socially. He has demonstrated a strong desire for rehabilitation, and has successfully engaged with our psychotherapy programs. He has not had any altercations or incidents for the past twelve months, has engaged constructively with other inmates, and shown a high interest in group-therapy. In his private sessions with me, he has expressed remorse for his actions, and a wish to contribute to society.  

Recommendation:

In light of Inmate 238453's good behavior and outstanding progress, we recommend his application for parole be accepted.

Attachment:

Stillwater Correctional Facility Case History

- Psychological Evaluation:

- Behavioral Evaluation:

- Medical Evaluation:

- Letters of Recommendation:

1. From Doctor O'Neil, Stillwater Correctional Facility:

2. From Margot Baffier, Stillwater Correctional Facility:

Reply from Piltover Parole Board to requestor

Summary:

We have reviewed your recommendation for parole. Based on our own analysis, we have approved your recommendation.

Inmate 238453 will be released from custody on the following conditions:

1. He is not permitted to be in contact with any of his former associates in the Undercity.

2. He is not permitted to leave the Fissures, nor may he travel without an official permit.

3. He must reside at a registered parole address.

4. He must refrain from using, distributing, or being in the company of narcotics or alcohol.

5. He is prohibited from possessing weapons or sharp objects, and must not enter establishments where weapons are allowed.

6. He is required to obtain employment within two weeks of his release.

7. He must remain in good standing, and cannot have any violations of parole, or else he will be returned to Stillwater.

8. He is required to check in with his parole officer on a weekly basis, and must present proof of his residence, employment, and personal effects.

Assigned Parole Officer:

Margot Baffier

Assigned Parole Address:

7803 Old Cannery

Entresol

Zone 3

Release Date:

23/10/1950

End report.

[1-danid]

(pt2) dating teen vi

dating arc one vi part two, you have both aged up to arc two!

part 1 here! Go read it love!

You worked at the bar almost for the most part of your job.

You get a lot of gossip and news whilst bartending, it’s shocking what people will tell a pretty bartender when they're drunk.

You're much better of a bartender than Thieram, bless him. And he sees you as a really good friend because Jinx doesn’t scare him as much when you're around.

Not you literally being everyone’s favourite.

Also you 100% get free drinks when you're at the bar, like Silco loves you enough to let you get that free booze.

You're Silco's inside man or woman in this case I guess.

If you're not busy as a bartender you’d 100% be Sevika’s go to dealer for any game she plays.

You don’t even have a choice she's dragging you with her and shoving a deck of cards in your hands.

If she wins shell get you something the next time she's out, if she loses its your fault (she's just a real sore loser and wants you to cheat in her favour)

You're 100% a fair dealer, but when Sevika wins almost every round people get angry at you for cheating. Sevika would beat them up for messing with you.

You're like a daughter to her, and even though she doesn’t show it all the time. SHe cares about you a lot more than Jinx. When you're not working the bar, you're definitely patching up Jinx.

Speaking of Jinx always comes to you for comfort and reassurance as you're the only family she has left, even though Powder died.

You've stuck with her and she appreciates it.

Jinx has improved so much and you're proud of her, and believe it or not you feel like you found another family with her and Silco.

Sometimes you'll cook dinners and bake treats for them when you're off, getting Markcus to buy you the supplies you need as you play with his daughter in Piltover.

He won't admit it but he's more petrified of you than Silco and Jinx combined.

You don't like to go on glimmer mission, they remind you of your old life but on the occasion that Jinx can convince you to go.

You're still a badass, even though you stick to defensive attacks (you could never hurt Ekko.) You're still a force to be reckoned with.

Sevika is much nicer to you than she is to Jinx, but that is likely because of your maturity and you never climbed on her back when she had to babysit you.

When Vi meets Caitlyn in prison, she recognises your initials on one of "Powder's" drawings.

Poor girl has only thought of you and her sister, in all her time in Stillwater she's realised that she loves you and she wanted to find you and tell you that.

So when Caitlyn gives her an opportunity to leave she takes it, if only to know that you and Powder are alive.

We all know Vi is a flirt and she does flirt with Caitlyn, the cupcake scene is a canon event. So when one of your girlfriends sees Vi she waits to see who this pretty girl is with her.

You get news of Vi before Jinx and Silco and leave on your own to clear your head, as your ex lover is proclaimed to be alive.

You're overcome with emotions like jealousy, heartbreak, fear and most of all anger (covers your sadness).

How could she be okay without you, you could barely go a day without thinking of her and the good times how could she move on? Why would she move on and forget about you?

However Jinx took you out of your hole of self pity and wallowing, and asks you to come find Vi with her. It's at that moment you remember the torch and agree, travelling to the top of Zaun to light the torch.

Throughout this Vi had fought Sevika, who was taunting her about how you and Jinx had moved on from her, (we don't talk about your last fling, it was embarrassing.) As Vi is about to be beaten, Caitlyn saves her and then continues to flirt, slowly but surely more and more people hear about Vi's reappearance.

However when you and Jinx light the torch you have hope. Vi was never one to break a promise and if it was to Powder at least.

You stood there anxious as you watches all the fuel dry up and burn from the flare torch.

You just needed to know if she was alive or dead, to know if she cared about you and her own sister.

You needed to know if she had replaced you.

A/N

And that’s where I'm ending this part! I have no idea if i'll make another part but that one anon gave me motivation for this. So here you guys go. Sorry if it's all over the place, I need to rewatch Arcane. It's a bit rusty in my head. I swear I'm working on my atsv requests. I just had this in the works for longer. Hope you enjoyed be sure to leave comments and reblog it!

Next fic publishing will be after i finish updating my wattpad book. No you will not get a link to my wattpad account.

[thelureking]

I had this idea to make a list of all the games I played in 2022, half as a recommendation list, and half because I struggle to remember when I played what. I have a really bad time ranking stuff, so I'll just list them chronologically (or, as chronologically as I can remember).

Note: Sometimes I dont have a lot to say about a game, but that doesnt mean I didn't like it or that it isn't good.

So, with that being said:

1) Our Life: Beginnings and Always

This game has put visual novels on another level entirely. How must I go on knowing that I will never be treated like royalty by any other game like this did. Our Life tells the story of your friendship and/or romance with Cove Holden, your new neighbor. This Visual Novel remembers an insane amount of stuff you choose, and it can put you in the state of mentioning something you did as a kid that you completely forgot about. I actually really liked how you can go the entire game as just friends, or choose when your character develops romantic feelings. I cannot overstate how well made this entire thing is. Can't wait to play the DLCs and for the sequel to be released.

Absolute recommend.

2) Iron Lung

If you have a computer, you can play it. It is not an option.

Claustrophobic above all, this game captures the pure dread of the unknown, building tension and atmosphere as you travel through this unknown planet's red sea. Highly recommended.

3) An Outcry

Amazing game that I don't see enough people talking about. The first game that made me actually physically ill while playing an alternative route. I don't know what hit me the most, the subject matter or the type of person I played in that route, a person I know exists and maybe I've met, a person I hope I never become. I knew what the game was specifically referencing, but I found it good that it was able to trigger that response on someone who lives in an entirely different place, with different historical events, but with enough similarities that made the feeling of dread and disgust that much real. Its message is clear and loud as it should be, and one that I think maybe now more than ever needs to be heard. I cannot recommend this game enough.

4) Stillwater

Now this is a Visual Novel that I really liked and would have loved for it to be longer, but I love it as it is. It left me wanting more about the world and its characters, and I think that's a good thing. It feels unfair that this is the one I typed the least about, knowing how much I liked it. It's really worth the read/play.

5) The Caribbean Sail

Have you ever wanted to be a sailor or a pirate? Have you ever wanted to grab a ship, sail into unknown destinations, encounter supernatural phenomenons and watch as your fellow crew members die of disentry five seconds after leaving your first port? Because if so, I have the perfect game for you. It's inspired by the Oregon Trail game, and that's literally what the gameplay is like, except on the sea. Which was enough of a selling point for me.

6) Carrion

My child, it has every disease. Loved the concept when I saw the trailer, forgot I can actually buy games now, and then proceeded to do that. Being able to live my fantasies of being a flesh creature that destroys and eats everything in its path was a delight. The creature is my child and I love it very much.

We need more games that let you play as the monster, I'm serious.

7) The Life and Suffering of Sir Brante

This game is both my beloved and the thorn on my side. Who would have thought that in a game like this you would proceed to suffer through life? I said to myself as if I hadn't known what I was getting into. You'll experience loss, you'll struggle to make a name for yourself, your family will fall apart, and you may never kiss your best friend Tommas who gave you a totally platonic ring to commemorate your friendship because the game doesn't want you to.

Or you'll have a different experience than me on my first playthrough.

You follow the titular Sir Brante from the moment of his birth to his last breath, exploring the world he lives in, full of injustices that at times made me go "I do not care about the lots, give me a fucking gun so I can take you to the fucking Twins". There are many branches regarding life paths, the fate of your family and that of the entire city you live in. But don't worry about it now, keep looking at those toy soldiers at the store as a little kid, I'm sure nothing will happen in the future.

8) Princess Maker 2 Refine

And apparently I didn't get enough of walking a kid through life.

Who looks at a game about raising a little girl by managing her monthly schedule and balancing her stats, health and money and says "yes, this is the game I'll play to destress"?

I do that. Don't ask why.

I have only reached two endings, in one my beautiful daughter became the royal painter, her art held as the most beautiful and inspiring in the entire world. In another, my girl made a name for herself by exploring the lands surrounding the kingdom, so fast on her feet nobody could even scratch her; she married a dragon prince and became the teacher of her own fighting school.

And even with all of that, her goddess mother was not happy.

So yes, this is the "divorced dad who got custody" experience.

9) Planescape: Torment

What can change the nature of a man? That is a question posed by one Ravel Puzzlewell, night hag of the Gray Wastes. It is one of the many questions that this game asks, intertwined by the many philosophies it presents. Planescape Torment does not stick to one question, it asks many, and it lets you answer.

It is a beautifully written game, one of the best I have ever read. There is one moment that I do not wish to spoil, but it still sticks to my head months after I experienced it. As a writer, I found myself fascinated by how a certain event was told, all because of the way it was presented.

It feels like an injustice to not talk in length about Planescape: Torment, but I seriously don't want to spoil anyone who hasn't played it yet. A blind experience is fully worth it. All you need to know is that this is the game that made me post for the first time here, two dumb memes for myself and one short analysis that sometimes reminds me that yes, people can interact with it. Shameless link to it here

10) Growing my Grandpa!

If I had to describe this game without saying too much, I would say it's "heartwarming horror". Two words that don't usually go together, but that they perfectly fit here. The story is, like the title says, about growing your grandpa, more like helping a girl grow her grandpa, but still. Strangely sweet and unnerving, I was tense the entire time, and even when I had to replay it to get the second ending (this was entirely my fault, since I could have gotten it way easier) that tension never left.

11) FAITH: The Unholy Trinity

I don't remember how I found out about this game, but I remember waiting patiently for it to get a steam release so I could buy it and play its three chapters all together. The day finally came, and all that waiting was worth it.

The gameplay is simple, yet the developers found a way to have me both crying in fear and frothing by the mouth out of anger every time I saw the game over screen (affectionately). In terms of difficulty, I would say the game is easy until it isn't, looking at you Chapter 2 and 3 Final Bosses, you bastards. Then again, I saw people say they struggled in places I didn't, so I would say it depends on the player.

The story is so interesting and it's still marinating in my brain please I need people to talk about how the prologue of chapter 2 and the one note in chapter 3 relate please. The cutscenes are also so well done, and I had to restrain myself from using one as a second picture because I didn't want to spoil any of them.

All in all, a must play, fully recommend it.

And remember:

GARY LOVES YOU

12) Inmortal Mantis

This is a tricky one. On one hand, the game starts off by basically spelling out every action you have to do, and suddenly it goes full on "fuck around and find out" mode. On the other, the game implements some interesting mechanics that I would love to see developed on a longer game, but I am not going to put the length against it while knowing how hard it is to make a game. And maybe being short plays in its favor.

13) Who's Lila?

This game is my King in Yellow. I cannot stop thinking about it. I finished it with all endings and achievements in a day, and it wont leave me alone. It is always there, forever crawling at the back of my head, stretching itself over my brain and weaving my thoughts into a spiral as easily as a spider weaves its thread. It made itself a home in my mind and I won't kick it out any time soon. I played it because the concept of controlling a character's face in place of a dialogue wheel was interesting, and the story and the way it's presented (hand in hand with the gameplay) lured me deeper and deeper. I cannot even describe it without giving it the praise it deserves. It takes full advantage of its medium. Playing this game is an experience that I can't recommend enough, and I'm surprised it hasn't gotten the recognition it deserves.

14) Someone stole MY LUNCH!

This visual novel is pure fun. The humor is so good I found myself reading the entire thing out loud while wheezing. I actually found out recently that it's made by the same people that made Stillwater, which, looking at it now I should have known. It's good and I'm not still over not seeing that one joke coming; well played.

15) MILK INSIDE OF A BAG OF MILK INSIDE OF A BAG OF MILK INSIDE OF A BAG OF MILK INSIDE OF A BAG OF-

... INSIDE A BAG OF MILK is a short visual novel about a girl going to the grocery to buy milk, and the challenge this seemingly small action can be. It is your responsibility to help her through this.

The steam page description perfectly summarizes it: "This is an artistic manipulation with word and form, only then - a game."

Reblog with more games

Or, you can jump to the 2023 list!

[callmelola111]

color me purple ♡ part three

 ✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2 , part 3   - - - - soundtrack - - - - ♡

synopsis: it’s summer and you’re back at camp stillwater. as a counselor you mean serious business and you’ll do whatever it takes for your cabin to come out on top. the only thing in the way of that; ellie williams and her crazy antics. 

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 3.4k

      | ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, some angst, ellie and reader fight, sweet love confession, !!SMUT WARNING!! (minors plz steer clear of this fic + dni), swearing, dom!ellie, sub!reader, whipped cream play, slightly public??, fingering (e receiving), oral (r receiving), scissoring (e + r), pet names (princess, sweet girl, baby, etc.), praise, edging kinda, some aftercare (lmk if i missed anything!!)

a/n: hello lovelies!!! i apologize for taking a whole ass week to get out this last part, i was on vacation and not feeling very inspired. finally though, i present a nasty, sweet ending that i hope you all love. so fun to write and read back, like why am i all hot and bothered rn lol. like always, thank you for the support!! ♡~ lola

That night Ellie replayed your words over and over in her head trying to dissect their meaning. Had her player-esque persona finally caught up to her? If so, why did it matter to you?

Through some deep speculation, she began connecting the dots. There seemed to be a real possibility that you liked Ellie as more than a friend, just as she did you. There was no way to be sure though, not unless she asked. But, the task seemed daunting considering it felt as if she had already ruined what she didn’t know was there.

The image of your tear stained face was seared into Ellie’s mind and proved as motivation to confess, apologize, explain. As long as you’d listen she’d repair the damage done to your heart. A tinge of regret hit Ellie as she thought about the meaningless hookups of summer's past. It was her way of dealing with unrequited love. But of course, now that that love doesn’t seem so unrequited, her mistakes have come back to taint it. 

♡

The following morning kicked off bright and early. 8:00am to be exact. The sky was pure blue with no fluffs of white to shade from the fury that was the sun. In virtue of the rising temperatures the expansive lake beckoned masses of campers into its waters. Just in time for the kayak relay race about to take place.

Each team lined up in number order spanning across the weathered wood of the dock. At the very end stood teams 11 and 12, you and Ellie heading your rows of campers. With the sting of yesterday's interactions you continued giving Ellie the cold shoulder.

It took everything inside to void your gaze from her, trying to focus on the games, while Ellie lacked the self control to look at anything but you. She studied your glowy skin and the way your sweat gathered at the nape of your neck from the sweltering heat. She took note of the stray hairs that clung to the moisture you produced and the way your brows remained furrowed as you fought every instinct urging you towards her. It felt like absolute torture and although neither of you said a word, there was a mutual understanding of the shared pain. However, before the tension could beat down on you any longer a loud whistle blew, signaling the start of the race.

Each counselor kicked off the relay heading straight for the finish. You slipped into your kayak, gripping onto the red double-bladed paddle that propelled you forward. Ellie’s boat was in line with yours sending aggressive ripples in between the two hunks of floating plastic. The course stretched over 500 meters and as you reached the 400 meter mark you were still neck and neck with Ellie, fighting for first place.

This is usually how it went but something about today was different, something in Ellie’s eye’s hinted towards a more complicated journey towards triumph. She suddenly jerked her boat to the right, straight towards yours. The pointed tip of her kayak rammed into the side of yours rocking it side to side and throwing you off course. Knowing her abilities, you recognized this as a pursuit at instigation. 

“HEY FUCK OFF!” you shouted with anger before swerving your boat to the left, hitting hers in retaliation. Ellie continued to push back.

“Oh so now you’ll speak to me?!” 

“Are you serious right now? Stop fucking with me Ellie!” You attempted to continue forward, but as multiple racers passed you and Ellie blocked your path, it felt like no use. 

“You can’t be mad at me forever!” her voice was desperate rather than angry and this left you baffled at her exact motives. 

“Oh yeah? TRY ME!” Ellie took your words as an invitation and used her paddle to scoop at the murky water sending it your way. You screamed in irritation as it hit you right in the face, soaking your once dry body.

Before you knew it, you were rising from your seated position to catapult even more water back at her. Ellie then stood up right with you, continuing the petty fight and reaching across the edge of her floating device to grab ahold of your paddle. At this point the both of you were blinded with vexation playing tug of war with the rod of plastic. Your boat rocked back and forth, more and more violently each time as you began to lose balance. With one last wave of water and the pull of Ellie you both tumbled into the lake in a mess of arms, legs, and curses.

You quickly shot up with the help of your life jacket, now drenched. Screams and laughters erupted along with the violent blowing of Mrs. Campbell’s whistle to halt the race and deal with the trouble you and Ellie caused. The both of you had been sentenced to kitchen duty and expected to sort out whatever drama had ensued. With the weight of your decisions, you were then banished from the lake and sent off to prepare lunch in place of the usual cooks.

♡

The double doors of the mess hall swung open with attitude as you and Ellie waltzed in. The air was shockingly cool compared to the barren heat just outside. Your wet hair became a nuisance as its once cooling effect now left you cold and miserable in the air conditioning.

Ellie led the way into the sterile looking kitchen and you followed in silence. Little words had been said between the two of you since your rage filled water fight. Although now, all rage had dissipated, leaving only feelings of shame and heartache in the air you shared. The silence grew heavy and the things left unsaid began bubbling up.

You reached for a ratty gray apron hanging on the dull walls trying to focus on the assigned task of cooking lunch. Staring at the chipped paint, you fumbled at the strings behind your back trying to tie them but to no avail. 

“Uh- do you want some help?” Despite Ellie being the only one in the room, her voice startled you. She inched closer waiting for your permission to assist and you obliged. Ellie’s hands reached to the contour of your waist, gripping the fabric. The brush of her knuckles across the small of your back sent a parade of chills to your skin. Her touch was slow and agonizing. Part of you wondered if she’d purposely made such prolonged contact as she tied the strings into a sloppy bow.

Although Ellie’s duty was done, you both remained still, you facing the wall and her facing your back. She reached once more to your familiar waistline and quickly flipped you around towards her.

“There… all done.” she murmured. In that moment with just inches between each other, eyes locked, you finally felt sure of her feelings, and your feelings, and the fact that you couldn’t keep pretending to hate her. The universe would stop at nothing to bring the two of you together and it was time to surrender. Ellie’s emerald orbs were full of you and only you and she knew she had to say something. If not now, when?

“I’m so fucking sorry. For everything. Please– forgive me.” You collapsed into her body like a house of cards. These were the words you needed to hear. Voice cracking, you called out her name in desperation.

“Ellie-” She urgently completed the other half of the embrace. Your face nestled perfectly into the crick of her neck like it was fate. Pine soap and earthy lake water wafted through your senses as you took in a deep inhale of relief. The following breaths were rocky and unsteady as all your pinned up emotions rose to the surface. Still stuck in Ellie’s crevice you began a gentle cry.

“Hey- hey- look at me. Don’t cry bunny.” She pulled your damp face in the cradle of her hands and guided you into contact with her glassy, green eyes. 

“Els, you- you have no idea what you do to me.” you struggled through the vulnerable sentence. Ellie pulled you back into the warmth of her body squeezing you even tighter like she was worried you might float away. Your words sat in the air waiting to be tended to until finally Ellie acted.

“I think I might.” Her answer was like a warm blanket around your heart. You looked up from your sanctuary in her frame and she stared back. You played a cat and mouse game of glances from eyes to lips and pressure rose.

Ellie took a deep inhale and asked the anticipated question, “can I kiss you?” With no time for words you dove into her soft mouth. Your top lip slotted perfectly in between hers, sealing the gap of yearning that had amassed from years of rivalry.

The peck was hard and long. It’s tenderness evoked cries of queer happiness from the both of you. Your tears mixed with hers was an act of love, and a long-awaited one at that. Ellie’s lips began to wander down to your neck and then your collarbones evoking sweet giggles from your throat. 

“Ellie- Ellie- enough. We do have to cook, you know.” A disappointing realization but true nonetheless. 

“Fine, fine.” Ellie’s kisses halted but you could still feel each one radiating off your skin. Your smile didn’t falter once as you and Ellie whipped up lunch for the campers. Who would’ve thought punishment could be this fun?

♡

After the 12 cabins passed in and out of the mess hall, consuming the meal, you and Ellie followed behind to clean up. After the kitchen was tidied, you both ventured into the dining area to wipe off the tables scattered throughout.

You dipped your sudsy rag into the bucket of cleaning solution and swirled it across the laminated wood. The table was long and wide forcing you to bend over the edge to extend your arm towards the hard to reach parts. Your ass up in the air was like a bright flag waving for Ellie to come over and assist, but not with the cleaning. She snaked both arms around your waist connecting them at your tummy. Her groin then pressed at your hips with reverence. She admired your shape and the way you somehow always slotted perfectly into her.

“Ellieeee…” You drug out her name nice and long, disguising your pleasure with annoyance. She began planting more kisses in the same pattern as before.

“What? Do you want me to stop?” You sat up now parallel with her body, ass still against crotch. Breathy air escaped from your mouth as Ellie gently nibbled at your ear, sending your head into a spin. You gulped out a string of “nos”, adamant about how much you needed her. And how you needed her now.

Your expression of desperation triggered Ellie’s strong hands into action. The 5 digits dragged up the right side of your ribs causing the soft red fabric of your shirt to bunch up, her firm motions stopping at the underside of one of your breasts. Ellie kneaded hungrily at the mound of fat, reveling in your braless form and hardening nipples. 

“C’mere, turn towards me. I wanna see your pretty face.” Her request flowed from her blushed lips like a symphony and you quickly obeyed. The table dug into your back leaving a mark as Ellie towered over you in desire like an animal. You tugged at the hem of her blue T-shirt sliding your hand under the linen. You were just as needy. Her abs flexed with the exploration of your eager hands. Wanting more, she leaned in close to deliver the message.

Her hot breath tickled you ear as she whispered, “you wanna make purple?” No matter how hot and bothered the both of you were, Ellie still found time to insert in her stupid humor. The cheesy sexual innuendo made you snicker but only for a moment before you were pulled back into her world of desire.

You nodded fervently to urge the escalation of this interaction, so she scooped you up by your pillow soft thighs and whisked you away to the kitchen. The stainless steel countertop where Ellie had positioned you was cold and left the back of your legs moderately numb. Overflowing with lust, you went for Ellie’s lips but she quickly pulled away before you could reach them.

“Ah, ah, ah.” she tsk’s before dashing away to the large industrial fridge, sending the double doors flying open with her pull.

“Els? What are you doing?” you questioned, feeling the ache between your legs amp up. You weren’t sure how much longer you could wait for her touch.

“I’m hungry.” she answered simply, pulling out a large red canister of dairy. Confusion was your prominent emotion but you didn’t dare to question her methods. Shaking the metal up and down vigorously she ran back, popping off the cap on the way. Your clenched thighs were quickly peeled apart by Ellie as she made room for herself between your dangling legs. In one hand she hoisted up the whipped cream and with her other she took your chin, angling it upward.

“Open.” she commanded. You separated your lips in obedience but it wasn’t enough.

“Wider.” Ellie’s hand cradled your jaw as it dropped even further this time. With this she squirted the milky, white cream down your throat. 

“Now swallow,” she instructed until your compliance, “good girl.” A cocky, power hunger smirk painted Ellie’s face as she watched you melt into the palm of her hand. You were sure that the thin cotton of your panties was now far from dry. 

“We’re gonna have some fun now... hands up.” With assistance from the girl in blue, you shed a layer of clothing. Your tit’s instantly perked up with the frigid air of the kitchen now surrounding them. Ellie watched in awe as dozens of fantasies played out in her head. It was a struggle just deciding what she wanted to do to you first.

The whipped cream assisted her next steps as she sprayed it across your remarkable chest. You gasped in pleasure at the cold, wet sensation. Drips of white began to trickle down your stomach as Ellie played clean up with the help of her tongue. The pink muscle pressed flat to your sternum collecting a heaping of cream and then venturing back to your own mouth. Teeth clashed and tongues wrestled as the white liquid swirled between the exchange of salvia. You left the kiss just for a moment to let out an urgent mewl. Ellie’s attention was then diverted back to your beautiful, beautiful body. She continued lapping up the sweetness taking time in between to suck on your erect nipples.

“Shit- baby, it got all over your cute little shorts,” she continued, her voice smooth like butter, “we better get these off of you then, huh?” Your bottom lip quivered in sexual agony, anticipating the future promises of friction. Ellie took her built arms and hooked them around the back of your legs. Upon swift movement she pulled you to the edge of the counter, stealing your shorts and panties in the process. Frigid steel made contact with your puffy clit aiding in some sense of satisfaction while you pleaded with Ellie.

“P-please, n-n-need you Els.” You bucked your hips demonstrating the amount of discomfort you were feeling. Ellie played dumb.

“Need what?” She teased your aching cunt with gentle brushes of her fingers at your thighs and you yelped.

“Need your fingers- your mouth- something- pleassee.” The words came out in a long slur but Ellie knew just what you were begging for oh so desperately. Having fun with her little game, she brought back the canister of white fluff, this time dispersing it across the heat you held between your inviting thighs.

Red plump lips belonging to Ellie planted deep into each bit of your flesh before eventually reaching their final destination. Your exquisite folds were glazed in milk and sugar like a special treat waiting to be devoured. For just a few seconds everything was frozen as Ellie was trapped by your fantasy-like beauty. Saving the image to memory, she dove into your crotch like it was her first, last, and only meal. Her tongue swirled through every crevice of you, taking only a few beats to express words of praise…

“My sweet, sweet girl.” , “You’re all mine” , “You taste so fucking good princess.”

Although, her affirmations could hardly be understood over your exuberant cries of pleasure. In your case, sentences were the last thing being formed as your bliss began to reach a fever pitch. 

“Close,” you mumbled, “so close.”

Ellie halted all movements, not wanting it to end.

“You think I’m gonna let you cum that easy? No way baby, we still have more fun to be had.” She shook her head taunting you. No matter how much it hurt, Ellie was in control and you clenched hard trying to prevent any further acceleration to your orgasm. You wanted to be the very best girl for your very best girl. 

“Come on, let’s take this to the pantry.” She hoisted you up off your place in the kitchen and assisted you there, your slick dripping down the innards of your legs as you walked (it was really more of a wobble and hop). 

With a glistening face of your wetness, Ellie then commanded you again, “Lie down for me pretty.” You did so as Ellie stripped herself down, meeting your bareness. She dipped into your form on the cold tile but the heat of your bodies was enough to distract from all the outside factors.

Purple and blue welts appeared across your neck and breasts as Ellie sucked every bit of skin she could in between the wrath of her teeth. With her parallel to you, your hands reached down to confront the mess that was Ellie’s folds. 

“So wet.” you whimpered in satisfaction. Knowing how just your sole pleasure could do that much to her drove you mad. You couldn’t help but slip a finger inside her tight little hole, trying to give back even just a sliver of the bliss she gave you. Ellie gasped as you filled her up, releasing the bit of flesh in her mouth that she had been suctioning to.

As much as she reveled in your pleasure, you reveled in hers. More whipped cream squirted between your bodies, mixing with the influx of sweat being produced. After many sloppy, in-and-out pumps of your digits you pulled them out to taste.

Ellie took this as an opportunity to grab your hips, holding them still for her own to align just right. You both began rocking against each other, unsteady at first, but with practice you gained a perfect rhythm. Clits bumped as heaving breaths and loud groans shot through the air. The mess hall pantry has become heaven on earth. 

“Fuccckkk,  I think I’m gonna…” Ellie erupted and you followed.

“Mmmmm.” Your back arching and her hips bucking chaotically, Ellie assaulted your sensitive ball of nerves with her own. The stars aligned and the angels sang as the both of you reached the climax of your lives. It was euphoric. White flooded your vision as you continued to ride out this high with the girl of your dreams. Sweet, sweet Ellie Williams.

Finally, the ravenous movement and desperate attempts at pleasure caught back up, leaving you limp and fucked out. Ellie lay next to you with a firm grip on your hand, maintaining contact as a sense of comfort and slight fear that if she didn’t hold on you’d vanish into thin air. You rolled to your side scattering gentle pecks on her arms and torso. 

“My special girl” you whispered into her skin, just loud enough for Ellie to hear. She smiled at you and then let out a large sigh of release, kissing you back.

“God, you’re sticky. Wonder how that happened??” A stupid little grin was stamped on her face as she teased about the recent sexual escapades.

“Let me clean you up, yeah?” You nodded with adoring eyes. She was an angel in bed and out of it. With a wet rag Ellie cleaned up the sugary, sweet mess, giving an occasional kiss of tenderness. It was all you could’ve ever asked for, and it continued that way for the rest of the summer and many more to come.

 ✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2 , part 3   - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡

taglist...

@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy

(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)

[master-sass-blast]

Let's Call it a Draw Between Us -Chapter One: Defeat.

Author's Note (uploading multiple works tonight, so I'm slapping this on all the fics I'm posting):

Uh... hi.

It's been a very long time. Longer than I'd hoped for, but suffice to say, this year hasn't gone according to plan.

In sum, I had a mental breakdown in Spring, got diagnosed with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome in July, my husband totaled his car in September, I was sick for the whole month of October, my husband found a new (used) car... and then hit a deer at the end of November, and the insurance company ruled that it was totaled because the repair costs would be worth more than the value of the car.

Yeah.

There's been other shit, too, but part of what I've learned with the new diagnosis is that my body does not regulate or cope with stress well -which I sort of already knew, but it's to a vaster extent than I'd known. Essentially, this past year has just taken me out at the knees, and it will probably take my body a while to regulate and function well again.

I still want to write and post fics, but I now have a lot of anxiety around not being able to write and post fics (along with other things that my befuckened body interferes with), which is just... a lot. And frustrating.

I'm not throwing in the towel. But I also can't promise any sort of posting schedule moving forward. Right now, my body and brain are just too unpredictable, and I have to make sure I'm taking care of my basic needs (like eat and hygiene and sleeping, it's literally that difficult to deal with) so that I'm physically okay.

Thank you all for being so patient. I hope to see you more regularly in the coming New Year, but if not, know that I'm okay and still kicking, but that my body's just kicking back for the time being.

Much love and best of wishes to you all for the New Year!

Summary: Sevika pines. She drinks. Then she competes in some arm wrestling and makes some very sapphic eye contact.

She loses, loses again, and then she wins.

Or maybe she wins all three times. It depends on your point of view.

(Basically just a very self-indulgent fic that spawned from an idea about Sevika and a big, buff Reader that I'll probably never get around to writing in full, so I wrote this as a way of honoring that idea.)

Pairing(s): Sevika/Reader.

Rating: M for some sensual themes and making out.

Word Count: 10.1k. Whoops.

You drive her to drink.

Speaking of… Sevika leans against the bar and snaps her fingers at Thieram. “Whisky, neat. Half a glass.” She narrows her eyes when he raises his eyebrows at her, then scoffs and goes back to staring across the room once he jumps to. Idiot.

She hadn’t expected much out of you after she first met you. Properly met you, that is. Technically, her first introduction to you had been in an underground fighting ring stocked by Stillwater’s hardier, more opportunistic patrons. You’d made quick work of the other prisoners, but Silco had wanted a proper evaluation before deciding whether or not to scoop you up, so in she’d gone. She’d socked you in the jaw, you’d suplexed her through a shitty wooden table. Good times.

She hasn’t had any complaints about you. You’re quiet, compliant. You don’t get drunk on the job, and you don’t start fights with the rest of the crew.

But that seems to be about it. You don’t really hang out with anyone else. You’ll talk to her every now and then, but otherwise you keep to yourself. You don’t play cards with the others, shoot pool, or share drinks. No swapping of stories, or exchanging inside jokes. From what she can tell, you keep to yourself like a hermit in an invisible cave.

Like a shadow, she reflects as you hang back in your usual spot (towards the back of the bar, tucked into darkness, where no one bothers you). If you’re not watching it, you forget it’s there.

She’d thought that was it. She’s seen plenty of people leave Stillwater and fall into violence, or inebriation, or withdrawn sullenness. She figured you were a tragic statistic –yet another to add to Zaun’s tally.

And then…

Her upper lips curls when Jinx comes bounding down the stairs. She tracks the blue-haired sprite across the bar, over to where you’re sitting, then scoffs when you greet Jinx with a small smile before glaring down at her glass.

It’s like watching a flower unfurl after weeks of frost. You smile and open up towards the sun of Jinx’s exuberance like you’ve been doing it your whole life, like there’s nothing more natural to you than beaming at Silco’s brat. And, sure, Jinx is a kid and she’s kind of cute, for a demented gremlin. But she’s still Jinx.

Sevika scowls down into her whiskey. Fucking psycho kid.

You’d called it kismet when she’d asked why you tolerate Silco’s batty brat. You’d lost your baby sister when you’d gone into prison, Jinx had lost Vi after the factory explosion, and then, years later, the universe had brought you two together and balanced everything back out, or fucking whatever.

She supposes it’s a decent arrangement. Jinx isn’t nearly as vicious and off kilter with you around, and you get all soft, and mushy, and happy, and pretty–

Sevika motions to Thieram to top her glass up again. Fuck me.

You’re protective of Jinx, too. Not that the brat can’t handle herself (Sevika has her new arm to prove that). But, she can still remember the night Finn’s gang had crowded into the Last Drop. They’d been obnoxious, and overbearing, and more than a little sloshed. Jacen, one of Finn’s “good buddies,” had slapped Jinx across the ass as a joke.

He’d done it in front of Silco. He was a dead man regardless.

Before anyone –even Jinx–could react, though, you’d lurched out of your chair, grabbed the sledgehammer you keep with you in lieu of a knife or a gun, and taken two long strides across the bar. “Jacen!”

Sevika’s core clenches at the memory. She lets out a harsh breath, then gulps down half her drink.

The crimson, glittering spray of blood through the air had been beautiful. Like gems cascading through the air. Jacen’s face had caved in on one side from where you drove the head of the hammer all but through it. He’d dropped to the floor in a heap, unmoving.

“Anyone else want to have a go?”

She’d gotten herself off to the thought of it that very night. The fury in your eyes, the decisive, powerful movements of your body, the splatter of blood. She’d climaxed harder than she had in a long time.

The whiskey burns her throat –expected and grounding.

She takes it without coughing or gasping. She’s been an expert for decades. Her jaw works as she finishes swallowing, and then she turns her head so she can watch you again.

You’re listening and nodding while Jinx rambles. There’s a certain attentiveness to your expression. Maybe it’s the angle of your eyebrows, or the soft, lax look of your jaw, or the brightness in your eyes. Whatever it is, it’s a total abandonment from both the harsh, dominating fury she’s seen from you, and the skittish, withdrawn apathy.

Something soft and needy aches beneath her ribs as she watches you with Jinx. Sevika grits her teeth and exhales with practiced languor. I’ve gone fucking soft.

Sevika doesn’t consider herself possessive. She visits the brothel far too regularly, and has more than a handful of casual “situationships” with different ladies around Zaun to be possessive. She’s not monogamous, at least. She doesn’t think of other people as property. The children of Zaun don’t have the luxury of such affluent detachment.

But she wants you. It’s like this thing that sits beneath her ribs and crawls around inside her. It’s restless, and writhing, and it gnaws on her bones like a feral dog in the dark corner of an alley. It keeps her up at night with racing thoughts, vivid hopes, and half-formed “what ifs.”

It also keeps her up at night because, more often than not, she winds up masturbating to the thought of you –like some starstruck, gods-damned teenager.

She’s not used to wanting –not for companionship, at least. She wants her freedom, wants her equality, wants Zaun to stand strong against those fucking Piltie pigs… but that’s about Zaun. There’s a certain degree of detachment there. It’s not about Sevika personally, the woman who is renowned at the Gardens, beats everyone’s ass in cards, and can drink any citizen of Zaun under the table. The woman who got blown up and survived, lost an arm and came back stronger, and practically rules the Undercity with a steel spine and a –literal–iron fist.

She doesn’t want for company. Any attention she wants, she can easily get. She doesn’t stay up half the night yearning for anyone, much less a… lover? Companion? Affection?

Sevika knocks back the rest of her drink, but the burning in her throat pales in comparison to the ache in her chest. Janna, kill me. Put me out of my fucking misery.

She wants you. She wants to get her hands on you, get you underneath her (or on top of her, she’s not picky), and crack you open. She wants to drink you down, watch all that rage and goodness and steeliness and softness pour out. She wants to find its source and let it all wash over her. She wants it –needs it–for herself.

She wants it to be hers, even in part. She wants to bask in everything you keep held back by your silent, stoic mask.

There’s a headache forming behind her left eye. Probably from clenching her teeth; ever since the scars on her face crystalized, the muscles on the left side of her jaw have been more sensitive to strain.

She’s not used to this –this, this insipid, endless pining. It’s been going on for months now, and she’s just about ready to put a fork in her eye just to make it fucking end.

She barks at Thieram to get her another glass. Drink until you feel nothing. Zaun’s oldest remedy. She leans heavily against the bartop, then groans beneath her breath. Might as well buy the whole bottle. Against good sense, she resumes watching you. Warmth spreads through her chest when you grin at Jinx, and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

“Y’know, somehow, I don’t think she’s going to figure out you like her just from you staring at her like a creep through a window.”

Sevika tenses, then glares at Ran as they sit down on the barstool next to hers. She picks up her refilled glass with her left hand and lifts it to her lips. “Fuck off. Nobody asked you.”

Ran stays where they are –a credit to their courage, at least. They smirk, then glance across the bar, to where you’re sitting, before returning their knowing, smug gaze to Sevika. “It’d be easier if you talked to her.”

“Shut. Up.”

“I’m just trying to save you the eyestrain.” They grin, thin and sharp, when Sevika flips them off, then lean against the wooden countertop. “Seriously, though. Why not ask her out?”

Sevika scowls and focuses on her whiskey glass, which is suddenly very interesting. “S’not that simple.”

“Why not?”

Sevika nearly kicks them off the stool and onto the floor (just for starters), but when she catches a look at Ran’s face and realizes they’re not teasing, she sighs and scrubs her face with her right hand. “I… I don’t know what she’d say.”

“Since when is that a problem for you?” Ran asks, face twisting with equal parts mirth and disbelief. When Sevika rolls her eyes, they shove her shoulder lightly. “It’s not like you ever have to work for it.” They pause, then smirk devilishly. “Maybe it’s weakened your game. Is that it?”

Sevika glares at them, then kicks Ran in the shin when they start snickering. “I’m gonna smother you in your sleep. And for your information, you giggling bastard, that’s not the problem.” When Ran swallows their smile and motions for her to continue (while rubbing at their shin), she huffs. “I –I don’t know if she likes women.”

Ran’s visible eyebrow arches. “You’ve seen her.”

“...Duh.”

“She likes women.” When Sevika grimaces, Ran narrows their eyes. “You think otherwise?”

“I don’t think she likes anybody,” Sevika admits; doing so is somehow both a relief and condemning all in one. “You’ve seen her around people. She’s not exactly interested.”

“Not everyone likes a girl in their lap the way you do.”

“That’s not the point,” Sevika snarls under her breath as she rolls her eyes.

“Then what is?”

It’s not easy to articulate. Sure, it’s an unspoken, universally acknowledged truth in Zaun, but that doesn’t mean anyone ever says it.

People go into Stillwater, and they come out –if they come out at all–different. Broken. You spent most of your life in that shithole –spent most of your teenage years there–at the anti-mercy of the wardens and other prisoners. It only stands to reason that any part of you inclined towards a relationship –or sex, or human contact–got snuffed out by the need to survive.

She feels bad for you, sometimes. Only when it’s too quiet, and she doesn’t have anything to do, and she’s not drunk and-or high enough to keep her thoughts from wandering to the dark, traitorously soft corners of her mind. She can almost see the child you started as –fiery, but so soft and good and kind–and it all got stomped out by the assholes ruling above them.

Sevika forces herself to loosen her death grip on the glass. Breaking it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but she hates picking shards out of the grooves of her mechanical fingers. “You haven’t seen her around Silver. She touched her shoulder–” she nods at you subtly “–without warning. I thought she was gonna break Silver’s fingers.”

“That’s Silver,” Ran says with a derisive curl of their upper lip. “She wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘boundaries’ if it rammed itself up her ass.”

They’re not wrong; the young woman’s brazen attitude is one of the things Sevika likes about Silver –albeit in small doses.

“She doesn’t talk to anyone,” Sevika murmurs, pathetic by her own standards. She’s worn down enough, though, to speak plainly. “She doesn’t go to any of the brothels, or take anyone home –and, yes, I’ve asked. She hates being touched, or being near anyone.” She presses her lips together to keep a pitiful smile back –she’d never forgive herself–then downs more whiskey. The burn of the liquor grounds her, brings her back to normalcy. “I don’t think she’s interested.”

Ran nods minutely, mulling the evidence over. They watch you for a minute, hawkish in their scrutiny. “She sits with Jinx.”

“Jinx,” Sevika grits out (both because it’s Jinx, and because of the implication of Ran’s observation), “is a kid.”

“She is,” they agree, unfazed. “But, clearly, she’s not entirely opposed to all human contact.”

Like I don’t fucking know that. Sevika clenches her teeth together to keep from snapping. She’s observed the same damn thing, and it’s what keeps that whining, consuming, itching ember of hope burning in her chest.

Ran watches Sevika for a moment, then continues when she doesn’t say anything. “She sits with you.”

“That’s different,” Sevika says on reflex.

“I don’t think it is,” they press. “She never sits with anyone else. It’s either on her own, with Jinx, if she’s here, or with you.”

“I–”

“It’s not like she’s in it for playing cards,” Ran continues, staring Sevika down when she tries to argue. “And she doesn’t drink much, either.” They prop one elbow against the bartop. “Frankly, if you’re not here, then she isn’t. She only bothers hanging around if you’re here.”

“That’s–”

“She talks to you a lot, too,” Ran drawls, tone both teasing and reflective. “The rest of us are lucky to get a word or two from her, but she’ll talk the whole night with you.”

“I’m–”

“She lets you touch her, too. I’ve even seen her touch your shoulder in return.”

“If you interrupt me again–”

“Quit moping,” Ran says, voice flat and final. “Ask her out, or get over it.”

There’s a lot she could say to that. First of all, no one accuses her of moping. But she tucks it away for later; she doesn’t want to start kicking Ran’s ass in front of everyone, because that means the trigger point for said ass kicking will inevitably become common knowledge. Her feelings are nobody’s business but hers. Second of all, no one but Silco tells her what to do, and that’s only for work. She is the only damn master of her personal life, thank you very fucking much. Third, she knows for a fact that Ran spent nearly two years pining for one of Silco’s assassins, so they’ve got zero room to talk shit.

Sevika downs the rest of her drink, then motions for a third refill. “She’s not interested.”

Ran stares at her for a moment. Then, they scoff and shake their head. “You’re an idiot.”

Sevika glares harshly at them–

The door to Silco’s office creaks open, then thumps shut, followed by the man himself quietly descending the staircase to the bar floor. “Jinx.” He finishes buttoning his trench coat shut. “Pack up your things. We’re going home.”

“What?” Jinx’s face screws into the picture of teenage consternation. The baby fat on her cheeks makes her look younger still. “But–”

“It’s alright.” You quickly and neatly arrange her blueprints and drawings into a single stack, then hand them to the blue-haired youngster. “We can talk later, okay?”

Envy curls in Sevika’s gut when Jinx hugs you and you reciprocate with one arm. She turns away and hides her scowl behind her glass. Fucking brat.

Silco addresses the rest of his crew, “I trust that you’re all competent enough to avoid burning the place to the ground?” He arches his good eyebrow, then smirks when a mix of serious answers and half-drunk jokes rise up from the crowd. “Good enough.” He turns to face Sevika and tosses her a key. “You decide when the bar closes.”

She catches the key with her right hand, then flips Petrichor off with her left when they start grumbling under their breath about Sevika being in charge. She raises her glass to Silco in lieu of a spoken fair well, then knocks the rest of it back when he leaves out the rear with Jinx in tow. “Fucking finally. Theo! Put something good on for a change.”

“Are you having another?”

Sevika looks down as Silver –one of Silco’s personal spies–materializes at her side. She eyes the younger woman –her tight dress, high ponytail, and alluring make up–then looks away. Not with you. “Probably not. Best to take it easy.”

“Since when?” Ran mutters under their breath.

Sevika subtly kicks their stool, then looks down when Silver situates herself between her legs.

“You sure?” Silver pouts –which does stir something in Sevika, given Silver’s plush lips and deep-colored lipstick, but it’s not the something that she wants tonight. Silver bats her eyelashes a little, then smiles coyly. “Could be fun.”

Sevika bites back a scowl; she doesn’t want to put Silver off permanently –not yet, anyway. She wracks her brain for some sort of believable excuse that even Silver would accept–

As fortune would have it, one falls into her lap.

“–pretty sure I hit three-fifty yesterday–”

A collective chorus of groans alerts Sevika to the newest problem –chiefly, that Arik is bragging about his “gym gains.” Again.

Nevermind that she could break him over her knee like a fucking twig.

“It’s taken a lot of dedication and hard work.” Arik stretches and flexes, preening while everyone else rolls their eyes. “I don’t want to brag, but I’m probably the strongest member in the crew.”

Sevika arches one eyebrow in judgment; it’s ludicrous, considering that he’s ignoring her, the bouncers, Leon and Boris, and Lock, Silco’s mountainous, tattooed henchman that works security at the Shimmer plants. Why do we even put up with you?

Theo barks out a laugh. “Fat fucking chance, dickwad. No way in hell you’re the strongest person here. Pretty sure Miss Silver could knock you on your ass.”

“I’d take that bet,” Silver chimes in, twirling a lock of her straight, powder purple hair around her finger.

Arik pouts, looking like a spoiled teenager. “Oh, yeah? Who’s strongest, then? You?”

“No.” Theo shakes his head. “I don’t have delusions of grandeur like you. Nah, it’s probably…” He looks around the bar, eyeing the bouncers, then Sevika, before twisting in his seat so he can see the back of the bar. “Actually, it’s probably Mouse, here.”

It takes you a moment to register the nickname foisted upon you by the rest of the crew. You lift your head, blink a few times, then straighten up. “What?”

“Cuntface here–” Theo jerks his thumb over his shoulder at Arik, who sputters and wheezes like a dying engine “–thinks he’s the strongest person in the crew. I wagered that title would probably go to you.”

“Oh.” You look around at everyone, then nod. “Okay.”

Arik huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s –there’s no way to prove that! Size isn’t everything!”

Sevika bites back a smirk as every single woman in the bar glances at each other and rolls their eyes.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Theo sneers at Arik. “Look at her, and look at you. It’s not going to be much of a competition.”

“You can’t prove that!” Arik insists, expression petulant.

Theo swivels in his seat to face you again. “Can you knock him out to shut him the fuck up?”

“No one’s doing that,” Sevika pipes up when everyone starts chattering and laughing excitedly. When people start grousing, she levels the room with a hard, final glare. “We’re not paying to get blood out of the floorboards. Again. If you all want to be idiots and knock the shit out of each other, you do it on your own time and floors, where I don’t have to clean up after your fucking mess.”

There’s a lull, and for a moment it seems like that’ll be it–

Silver perks up. “What about arm wrestling?”

“Hey,” Ran drawls, eyes lighting up. “That could work.”

“Anything to get this moron to shut the fuck up,” Theo grumbles.

Arik pouts, but says nothing.

When she realizes everyone is looking for her –presumably for permission, not that anyone’s ever bothered asking before–Sevika waves one hand dismissively. “Knock yourselves out.”

You watch as a table is cleared and Theo all but shoves Arik into a chair. When everyone looks expectantly at you, you shoot a wide-eyed, somewhat panicked glance her way.

Sevika offers you a half smile, then shrugs as if to say ‘it’s your choice.’

You shrug back, then sigh before standing. You stride over to the awaiting table and sit opposite a very grumpy, red-faced Arik.

Sevika shifts on her stool so she has a better view. Heat unfurls in her core as you prop one elbow against the table. She watches the way the thick muscles in your arm and forearm ripple with each movement. Damn.

Arik shifts in his seat. His eyelid twitches as he eyes your arm and hand. “I– I don’t know–”

“Take her fucking hand,” Theo growls.

Arik swallows hard, then props his elbow on the table and takes hold of your hand.

“On go,” Ran declares –they’ve left the bar and now stand beside the table. “Three… two… one… go!”

It’s not even a competition. If anything, it’s almost pathetic.

Arik tenses his arm –then squeaks when you push his hand down so fast he nearly falls out of his chair. The back of his hand hits the wooden surface of the table with a dull thonk. He lets out an angry snarl, yanks his hand away, then lurches to his feet and storms off with such force that his chair topples to the floor.

Everyone else cheers and claps as the front door of The Last Drop slams shut behind Arik.

“Fucking finally,” Theo mutters before running one hand through his curly hair. He looks at you and smiles appreciatively. “Thanks for shutting him up. Want a drink?”

You lean back and away. “I –I’m good, thanks.”

“That wasn’t even a challenge, though!” Silver pipes up, pouting.

“We already knew it wouldn’t be,” Theo fires back drily.

“But,” Ran interjects with a wry edge to their voice, “if we’re really trying to figure out who’s strongest…” 

Sevika presses her lips into a thin line when they turn and look directly at her. Don’t you fucking dare.

“Do you think you could beat Sev?”

Traitor.

You look at her, then lean back in your seat and grin. “Oh, yeah. Easy.”

Sevika feels her brows rise up, and she grins back despite being annoyed with Ran literal seconds ago. “Really? That’s the stance you want to take?”

“I mean…” You shrug and smirk. “It’s the truth.” You raise one eyebrow as buzzed laughter and inebriated runs through the gang. “What, you're too scared to test it?”

Them’s fighting words. Sevika cocks her head to the side, smirks right back, then shoves off her barstool and stalks over to the table.

Your eyes light up as she sits down across from you. You lean forward, prop one elbow on the tabletop, and grin. “It’s nothing personal, Sev.”

The crooked angle of your grin makes her heart flutter in a delightful, squirmy manner. She swallows hard, forces down the childish feelings of elation, and props one elbow on the table without dropping your gaze. She smirks, and revels in the way your eyes dance in the bar lighting. “Nothing personal, sweetheart,” she fires back, making sure her voice comes out lower and huskier.

Your grin broadens. You clasp her hand and squeeze tight while Theo counts down…

“Three, two, one–”

Oh shit.

It’s like shoving against a wall. Granted, Sevika’s shoved, kicked, and punched a number of walls in her day. She’s left her mark –even broken a few–on nearly all of them. She likes to think that she’s a reasonably strong, generally indestructible motherfucker.

You watch her for a few moments, expression placid –save for the smug, wicked, coy, sexy smirk on your lips. You let her try for a little longer, then inhale sharply and blink rapidly. “Wait, did we start already?”

“Fuck you,” Sevika grits out without any real malice.

You grin, showing a brilliant, alluring flash of teeth –and then you push.

“Shit.” Sevika strains against your arm.

To her credit, she feels your own arm waver slightly; to your credit, you brace your muscles, and it’s like pushing against a wall again.

She grits her teeth and tries to up the ante again. She curses when it doesn’t work, then grunts when you push her arm down another fraction of an inch.

“You okay, baby?” You grin when everyone else laughs (it’s a mix of delight and shock). “It’s okay if you need to tap.”

She grins back. Right now, she doesn’t care if she loses. Frankly, if you keep flirting with her like this, she’s the real winner in this scenario. “Keep it up, baby. We’ll see who taps.”

It’s a lost cause. You take your sweet time, push her hand down smooth and slow, and talk a lot of smack all the while.

She’s got less than an inch between the table top and the back of her right hand, now. You’re not even actively pushing, more just keeping her pinned at that point. She grunts, then laughs when your arm doesn’t budge. “Come on, you cunt. Just fucking finish it!”

You laugh in return and wink. “You’re getting tired in your old age, Sev.”

She grins. “Say that again and we’ll take this out back, bitch.”

You wink –then shove the back of her hand down against the table.

The crowd clustered around the table breaks into cheers.

Sevika can’t find it in herself to give a shit. Yeah, she lost, people are teasing her for it, whatever. She’ll kick their asses later, if she feels like it. Right now, you’re laughing, and smiling at her, and she technically got to hold your hand. That’s all she really cares about.

“What about the other one?”

Sevika blinks a few times, then frowns, confused. She looks up at Theo. “Huh?”

“Her other arm.” He’s talking to you, but he turns and gestures to her mech arm. “What about that one?”

“Uh…” Trepidation flashes across your face as you eye her prosthetic. You cringe and lean back in your chair. “I doubt it.”

It’s fair; her mech arm is reinforced, has motors that work the joints the way her muscles used to, and it’s heavy as shit. She’s crushed bones with her mechanical hand, just by clenching her hand into a fist.

But, still. In for a penny, stupid ways of flirting –all that shit.

She props her metal elbow on the table, resulting in a muted thud.

The table quakes beneath the weight of her arm.

She grins in a way that she hopes is taunting and enticing. She holds up her left hand and waggles her fingers. “You scared, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flash. You run your tongue along the inside of your lower lip. You brace your forearms against the table as you eye her metal hand. You hesitate, pressing your lips together, then say, “Just don’t crush my hand.”

“Nah.” She shakes her head. She’s not out for revenge.

Your shoulders relax. You cock your head from side to side, stretching your neck, then put your left elbow on the table and clasp her mechanical hand. “Bring it on. Sweetheart.”

It’s a more even match; she’d certainly hope so, given the fucking mechanical arm.

There’s a vein popping out on the side of your neck. Your face is pinched, expression one of intense focus and strain. The muscles in your arm and forearm stand out in full, glorious relief, defined and rippling as you fight against the force of her arm.

Her arm isn’t shaking this time, at least; such are the merits of steel reinforcement bars. But she’s not moving your hand, either. Sevika growls. The motors in her arm whir as she pushes harder.

You grunt and shove back. You bare your teeth. Your gaze is locked on where your two hands are joined. Your hands trembles from the sheer force of your exertion–

And then her hand lowers an inch.

Everyone else gasps. Exclamations and expletives roll through the bar.

“Fifty gold pieces says Mouse does it,” Theo says. 

“Bullshit,” Ran fires back. “She’ll get tired, first.”

Kharim pulls out a pad of paper and a pencil. “That’s fifty on Mouse, so far. Do I hear one hundred?”

“I’ll put twenty on Sev,” Silver says with a sweet smile.

“Really?” Sevika grunts as she pushes harder against your hand. “Only twenty?”

You let out a breathless, strained laugh –then push her hand down further.

“Who’s got another fifty on Mouse?” Kharim asks.

Too late, she realizes her prosthetic arm is actually working against her, in this situation. She has to work against the weight of the mech arm –which you can use to your advantage, naturally. The built in mechanical safeties are hosing her, too. Her arm is designed such that, at certain angles or certain levels of exertion, the gears and motors will give to whatever she’s working against. It prevents damage to the internal mechanisms and bending the internal support structures. It’s invaluable for the longevity of her prosthetic, but it also means she can’t mindlessly strain against your hand like she could with her right arm. Her only hope is that her left arm can outmatch yours in raw strength.

Normally, she’d go all in on that bet. Normally –unless her opponent was doped to the gills on Shimmer–there wouldn’t even be enough force in the picture for the failsafes to override the locking mechanisms.

You growl, teeth bared in a glorious snarl, and shove her metal hand lower.

She can’t even find it in herself to be mad. One, she’s not some mealy-mouthed bitch who needs to be the strongest person in the room at all times; she, unlike some people (Arik), is confident in herself and her abilities. Two, it’s frankly impressive. It’s an unrepentant display of raw strength, and she’s not above respecting it. Three…

It’s hot.

She’s torn between focusing on resisting you and watching the muscles in your arm flex. Her mild buzz isn’t helping, either. In hindsight, should’ve stopped with the second glass. It’s taking far too much focus not to just gawk, to grin and simper like an idiot, and she likes to think she still has her pride –which is also why she’s not just giving up. After all, she has her pride. Sevika growls when you force her hand lower, then doubles down and pushes back. Maybe not for much longer, with how this is going. Fuck.

You grit your teeth. There’s sweat glistening along your hairline (which might be her only other saving grace, since her mech arm can’t get tired). You snarl, then grip her hand tighter.

Sevika swears when her arm suddenly jerks downward. She nearly topples out of her chair, saved only by managing to plant her feet beneath the table. She catches herself, blinks–

It’s over.

You shove her metal knuckles against the table with a thud –hard enough that the wood dents inward where her steel knuckle guard hits the surface.

The crowd goes nuts, loses their minds, whatever. If she’s being honest, she’s really not paying attention to it. A distant fragment of her brain registers the squaring of bets, exchanging of coin, but–

You’re still holding her hand.

A larger, deeply buried part of her is furious that she doesn’t have better sensory input on her left hand. She can detect pressure and temperature, rudimentary shit, but she can’t feel the calluses on your palm, or the precise texture of your skin. She can’t really gauge how thick your hand is in hers.

You’re still panting, somewhat dazed as you stare down at your joined hands. Slowly, your eyes trace up the line of her mech arm, up to her face, where you take in her stunned expression. You swallow, quick, then grin.

You’re breathing hard. Your skin glistens faintly with warmth. Your hair looks tousled, slightly sweat trapped. And your grin practically glows.

It’s the closest she’s ever been to seeing what you look like after sex. Sevika can feel her mind filing every single detail of how you look away for future masturbatory reference. She grins back, slow and a bit dazzled. “Shit.”

You let out a soft, quiet laugh. You drop her gaze for a moment, but when you look back up your eyes shine unabated joy.

You’re not looking away. You’re not pulling away. You’re not letting go of her hand.

Do it, a voice that sounds irritatingly like Ran’s whispers in her mind. Do it, you fucking coward. Sevika licks her lips, then leans forward, hoping that she comes across as conspiratorial and collected. “I–”

“Aw, don’t feel too bad, Sev.”

The sudden intrusion feels more like an assault. Fake, sweet perfume cloys at her nose. There’s arms around her neck, and unwanted weight in her lap.

Silver’s face looms into view. She peers down through her lashes, lips posed in a perfect, alluring pout. “It’s not–”

Whatever else Silver says goes in one ear and out the other. She’s looking over the smaller woman’s shoulder, instead.

You pull your hand back across the table. Your smile slips away, and your shoulders bunch up ever so slightly. Back to the usual mask of the careful, quiet mouse.

Godsdammit. Sevika shoves Silver out of her lap and stands with a snarl. “Fuck off.” She stomps away and up the stairs, to where Silco’s office and a few private rooms are. “Everyone, out! Tonight’s done!” She ignores the groans and jeers following her, storms into Silco’s office, and slams the door shut behind her so hard that it rattles in its setting.

Silco’s office is mercifully dark. Quiet.

Sevika collapses onto the quilted velvet couch tucked into the corner of the office. She drops her head into her hands and scrubs at her face. Janna’s left fucking tit, that was a disaster. She sits up, only to slump against the couch like a dejected teenager. This is never going to work out.

If she was anyone else, she might cry –out of sheer frustration, if nothing else. Since she’s not anyone else, she helps herself to a cigar from Silco’s stash.

She only gets as far as rummaging through his desk for the cutter. (Jinx must have absconded with it. Again.) Something in her hindbrain makes her go still; an old, well-tested instinct that says ‘something isn’t right.’

Sevika freezes. Her eyes scan the darkness for any signs of intruders, or one of Jinx’s traps. She strains her ears; aside from the faint, scuttling noises of stray pests, it’s silent.

Too silent.

There should be more talk coming from downstairs; she hadn’t really expected everyone to listen to her when she ordered them all to clear out. There should be music playing, people arguing, clacks from the balls on the pool table. At the very least, there should be complaining and the noises of a final clear down.

She’d half-expected Silver to follow her upstairs. Or maybe Ran, at least. But there’s no sounds of someone climbing upstairs, or Silver’s high-pitched voices, or even creaking floorboards in the hall outside.

Sevika pulls out a knife she keeps tucked in a sheath hidden behind the waistband of her pants. She creeps forward, deadly silent, until she reaches the door of Silco’s office. She gingerly places her right hand on the doorknob, until it’s completely encapsulated by her grip, then slowly turns the handle. Once the latch is fully retracted, she tucks herself behind the door and inches it open. She waits for a beat, then another, then peers around the corner.

The bar is empty.

Now that the door’s open, she can hear the sounds of someone rummaging around the main bar floor. There’s no conversation, though; it’s too quiet to be the usual crew, for another matter.

Sevika stalks down the hall. She quietly, efficiently clears each room before she passes it, until she reaches the end of the outer wall, where the balcony begins. She tucks herself into the shadows, then peers around the corner.

You’re down on the bar floor, putting the remaining chairs up on the tables.

Sevika watches you for a moment, somewhat dumbfounded. Where the fuck is everyone else? She blinks, until her brain finally processes that The Last Drop has not been broken into by assassins or other hooligans, then steps around the corner and into the full light of the bar. She taps the railing of the balcony with her metal hand to alert you to her presence. When you look up, she gestures around aimlessly. “Where’d they go?”

You look around, then back up at her and shrug with one shoulder. “You said to get out.”

“Doesn’t mean they’d actually listen.”

Your gaze cuts away from hers. You duck your head, then go back to putting up the chairs. “Might’ve pushed ‘em. Enforced the order.” You give a one shouldered shrug. “Thought you wanted ‘em gone.”

Sevika grunts and nods. Fair enough. At least, now, she doesn’t have to deal with Silver lingering around. For lack of knowing what else to do, she watches you as you continue tidying things up for the night. “We don’t pay you to do that.”

You shrug; your back’s to her, now, as you work your way around a circular table. “Doesn’t really matter. Thieram deserves a night off, every now and then.”

There’s not much point in loitering on the balcony and staring at you like a mooning idiot. She strides across the length of the balcony, tromps down the stairs, then crosses the distance to the table you’re working in three strong steps. She grabs one of the remaining chairs, flips it upside down with ease, then hooks the seat of the chair on the table top.

You go still for a moment. You watch her, gaze following her every movement, until you relax again and resume working. “‘M sorry ‘bout earlier.”

She nearly trips over the chair she’s picking up. Sevika stalls, blinks, then sets the chair back on the floor and levels you with an incredulous, confused stare. “What?”

“For kicking your ass.” The corner of your mouth briefly ticks up in a self-satisfied smirk, but it washes away to true contrition. “Wasn’t trying to humiliate you ‘n front of everyone.”

“I–” She pinches the bridge of her nose. Can’t imagine where that narrative came from. “I’m not. You didn’t.” She hangs the chair from the table, then scoffs, indignant. “Fuck’s sake, I’m not Arik.”

You smirk, but stay still as you watch her for a few moments. “You were mad about something.”

“I was mad at Silver,” Sevika grouses, careful to avoid making eye contact. And her lousy sense of timing.

You let her get the last few chairs, opting instead to grab a tray and collect stray glasses and empty beer bottles. “You two okay?”

She snorts. “We’re not involved enough to be ‘okay’ or otherwise. We’ve fucked before. End of story.”

“...Did she do something to you?”

The tight, lethal quietness in your voice gets her attention. She straightens up, meets your gaze, and shakes her head. “No. She just gets on my nerves now and then, s’all.”

You grunt, understanding, then add a couple more glasses to your tray before carrying the lot over to the bar.

Sevika grabs a couple stray, half-empty bottles of whiskey, tequila, and vodka, then follows partially in your wake. She stops at the bar counter, watching as you round the end so you can dispose of the beer bottles and set the used glasses in the sink. She sets the half-consumed bottles on the counter, then leans against the neon light-edged lip while she watches you. “Gotta say, it was pretty impressive.” She smirks when you half-turn, brows lightly drawn together, then waggles her metal fingers. “Figured I’d have you licked.”

You snort, then shake your head. “Might’ve.” You set the last of the glasses in the sink, then drop the beer bottles in the recycling can. “Probably would’ve if we’d gone longer. You’d have me beat on stamina.”

She can’t stop her automatic, teasing, too sultry for its own good reply. “Oh, I doubt that.”

You do a quick double take.You stare at her over your shoulders, eyes the size of dinner plates. Then, your lips press together before quirking upwards in a shy smile. You laugh softly. “Yeah, well, your mechanics would’ve won, in the end.” You toss the last of the bottles into the recycling can, then turn and step to the bar. “Figured it was just best to–” you draw your fingers across your neck in a quick slash and click your tongue “–cut things quick, override the locking mechanisms.”

“Smart,” Sevika purrs.

You lick your lips, then grin. You eye her for a moment, shifting from foot to foot –then, you grab the remaining bottles and crouch so you can stow them beneath the bar counter. “Course, helps that you’re shit at arm wrestling, too.”

“Excuse me?” she laughs, caught off guard and bemused. “Run that by me again?”

“You’re shit at arm wrestling.” You chuckle as you stand. “Your form’s terrible. Makes you easy to beat, even if I wasn’t stronger than you.”

She grins wide, exhilarated. Fighting words. “Oh, is that how it is?”

You plant your palms against the bartop. “‘S how it seems to me.” You smirk –which grows into a smile as she looks you over–then prop your right arm against the counter. “I could show you a couple tricks. Improve your odds a bit.”

She takes the bait like the happiest, dumbest fish that ever lived and sets her right elbow atop the counter. “Teach me your ways, oh wise one.”

“Right off the bat–” You reach forward and adjust the angle of her arm. “‘S really not about raw power. I mean, it helps, but angles are a lot more important.” Your hands slide along the length of her arm, adjusting things until you’re satisfied with how she’s positioned. You nod to yourself, then move to her wrist. You hold her right hand with both of yours. “Gotta think about how you’re holding your hand, too. Too many people wind up pushing with their forearms. Means that they got their hands at the wrong angle, most of the time. You want to be pushing with your upper arm and shoulder.”

“Whatever you say, coach,” she drawls, layering on the sarcasm to –hopefully–hide how breathless she is.

You snort, then lower your left hand and grip her right hand with yours –assume the position. “Alright. Try now.”

She does –not with as much vigor as she used in the initial match, but she still puts decent effort into it. Her eyebrows spike high when she feels less strain than earlier. “Shit.”

You flash her a lopsided grin. “See? Knowing what you’re doing helps.”

“Bite me.”

You fake a grimace. “Not until you shower first. I don’t know where you’ve been.”

“You implying something?”

“I’ve seen how many people you can beat up in a week, Sev.”

She chuckles, then shrugs in concession. “Fair enough.” She grips your hand tighter and smirks wickedly before shoving against your hand, hard. “Hope you’re ready to join the list–”

You grunt –then brace against her onslaught and force her hand the other way.

“Shit!” Sevika strains against your hand, but it’s veritably useless as you slowly push her hand downward (at least you have to work harder for it, this time). “Son of a bitch –motherfucker!”

“Still stronger than you,” you fire back as you finally pin the back of her hand against the bartop. You smile, impish and sweet. “But that was a good try.” You grin when she glowers at you, then toss your head back and laugh when she flips you off with her left hand.

She can’t think of a retort; the wrestling tugged your shirt off kilter, and your laugh exposed something new –fresh, smooth ink along the side of your neck, previously hidden by your collar. She stares, tracing the way the tendrils of the flowers curve around your neck and down your clavicle before disappearing under your shirt. “That’s new.”

You look down at her, blinking rapidly, then crane your neck to look down when she gestures loosely at your chest. “Oh. Yeah.” You shrug with the opposite shoulder. “Wanted to do something for myself. Cover up some of the shit I got inside.” You hesitate, then swallow hard and ask. “Do –do you wanna see the rest of it?”

“Sure.” The meaning of your offer doesn’t really hit until you let go of her hand so you can start unbuttoning your top. Sevika locks her knees to keep from toppling over as all the blood rushes Southward from her head. Janna, help me.

Mercifully, you only undo the top three buttons on your shirt. Unmercifully, that gives you enough leeway to push the right side of your shirt down over your shoulder, revealing more of your chest and your neck.

Oh, and the tattoo.

It’s pretty. It’s a good piece, too, done by someone who knew what they were doing. The design is a dense cluster of flowers that fans up the side of your neck and down over your collarbone.

“That’s real pretty,” Sevika ekes out, voice gone to gravel. She reaches up to touch it, but catches herself before her hand leaves the bar. Don’t startle her. “Do you mind?”

It takes you a moment, but you look down when she gestures with her flesh hand. “Oh.” You let out a soft, trembling breath. Your throat flexes as you swallow. “Yeah –go for it.”

Everything that follows feels like a dream. The world seems to take on a warm, golden hue that overpowers the glaring neon lights and the dark shadow of night outside. It feels like she’s moving through molasses, achingly slow as she lifts her hand towards your neck.

Your skin is unbelievably soft beneath her fingertips. The lines of ink stretch slightly as she traces down your neck and over your shoulder.

“This okay?” Sevika murmurs.

“Yeah.”

Something about your heavy, trembling exhale makes her look up.

You’re staring down at her with wide, dark eyes. Your lips are parted, and you’re practically panting despite standing still.

But you’re not pulling away. You’re not shaking. If anything, you’re practically melting beneath her hand. And your gaze is locked on her face –practically zeroed in on her mouth…

Oh.

She owes Ran a drink. Or another kick in the shin. Maybe both.

This, however, is at least more familiar territory –so long as she plays her cards right.

Various options flit through her mind, but they all desiccate before they reach her tongue. She quickly finds herself locking up instead as she tries to figure out what the fuck to say. Shitshitshitshitshit–

(She’s never been more grateful that you kicked everyone out. Ran would never let her live this down.)

“Ask her out, or get over it.”

Sevika swallows hard. Go big or go home. Not like the world’s gonna end if she says ‘no.’ She clears her throat. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re really fucking attractive?”

“I–” Your eyes go wide as you sputter. Your gaze flicks between her eyes and her mouth. “Not –no. Not really.”

“Shame,” Sevika drawls. She traces her thumb down the stem of one of the flowers inked into your neck, then looks back up at you. “You’d think they’d have eyes. I’ve noticed since the first time we met.”

You snort, equanimity somewhat restored. “What, in an illegal prison fight club soaked in the blood of others?”

She smirks and winks at you. “You made it work.”

You draw your lower lip between your teeth as you smile. You duck your head bashfully, then brace your forearms against the countertop –which puts you closer to her height. “I hope you won’t be offended if I say that I didn’t notice you ‘like that’ from the start.”

Her gut drops. “Oh?”

You shake your head, gaze still glued on the countertop. “I was, uh, a little concerned with surviving –making sure you didn’t knock my teeth out with your metal fist, that sort of thing.” You let out a little laugh, then look at her. “But I noticed later.”

Warmth blooms in her chest and abdomen. She grins, soft and slow. “Really?” Her grin grows when you smile shyly and nod. “Well, shit. Lucky me.” She strokes her thumb along your tattoo again; satisfaction curls in her stomach when you shiver.

“I–” You lick your lips and look at her eyes, then her lips, then back up, then back down again, then back up again. “I don’t…” Your gaze locks onto her lips when she smirks; your pupils blow wide, and you let out a ragged, heavy breath. “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

Heady elation blooms in her chest and quickly spreads through her body. “That,” she murmurs as she slides her fingers beneath your chin and leans in, “sounds great to me.”

Your lips are soft against hers. Hesitant. You freeze, scarcely even breathing.

But you’re not pulling away –or panicking–so she decides to stay the course. She presses her lips a bit more firmly against yours, then smirks when you let out a quiet moan and angle your head towards hers. There we go. After a few moments, she breaks the kiss and pulls back incrementally to assess your interest level.

You’re trembling. There’s a faint glow of sweat on your forehead. Your breaths come ragged and fast, chest rising and falling heavily. Your eyelids are half-lidded, pupils blown so wide that your eyes nearly look black.

Before she can do anything, you lean in and kiss her again; this time, it’s her turn to moan against your mouth.

It’s clumsy. It’s easy to tell that you don’t have much –if any–experience in this department. But your unabashed eagerness more than makes up for lacking finesse.

Sevika gently grasps your jaw with her right hand, guiding you through the series of kisses that follow. She carefully angles your head as she pleases, and pulls back intermittently to both catch her breath and see what you’ll do. When you keep following her lead, she decides to nip at your lower lip –just to see if it’ll draw you out of your shell more.

You let out a throaty growl when her teeth graze your lower lip –and then you pull away.

A mix of disappointment and fear flash through her stomach –but it all drains away when you vault over the counter and land next to her. She smirks as you crowd into her space, but frown when genuine trepidation settles over your face. “What?”

Your brows pinch together. “I–” You clear your throat when your voice cracks. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do with my hands.”

Oh. That’s all. She smiles, lax and confident, then places her hands on your broad shoulders. “Touch me, sweetheart.”

“Where?”

She slides her hands down your chiseled arms, then takes your hands and places them on her hips. “Anywhere.”

You’re too still at first –nerves driven by inexperience. But you loosen up when she nips at your lower lip again. You draw in a guttural breath, then squeeze her hips tighter when she curls her fingers into your waist. You press closer to her when she slides her tongue against yours. When she slides her right hand up the back of your neck and tugs at the soft hair at your nape, you growl, then slide your hands around her ass and squeeze.

Finally. Sevika moans softly and arches against you. She wraps her right arm around the back of your neck, so she can keep you close, and rests her left hand on your hip. She plunders your mouth with her tongue, then moans again when you grope her ass more firmly. She hooks one metal finger through one of the belt loops on your pants and tugs you closer –then gasps when you shove against the bar.

You crowd against her, kissing her fiercely, eagerly. Your hands cup her ass and lift, forcing her onto the balls of her feet so you have better access to her.

Surprise flits up her spine. She’s not used to being in this position; most women come to her to be manhandled, not the other way around. But she can see the appeal of it; there’s a certain giddiness in the gut that accompanies it, like the hang time from jumping across rooftops.

The kiss devolves into something artless and hungry. The two of you meet each other in the middle, pressed against each other like teenagers in a closet.

She’s starting to get into that state where she feels like she’s melting into you, and vice versa. The bar, the faint drone of passersby always present in the Lanes, the buzz of the neon lights that wrap around the bartop, the arm wrestling match less than an hour ago –all of it’s gone, blurred into background coloration like splotches on one of those fancy, impression-type paintings, for which Pilties drop the equivalent of a Trencher’s life earnings (and then some). There’s that familiar, ravenous ache in her cunt. She ought to ask you back to her place; The Last Drop hardly seems poignant enough for your first time. But the notion of stopping your eager exploration of her body is downright offensive –especially when your open mouth catches her jaw and sends arousal curling through her gut.

You pause when she tips her head back. A few ragged pants fan across the sensitized, blood-hot skin of her neck. You swallow, then clear your throat. “I –is this–”

“Yes.” She curls her right hand around the back of your neck, then gently presses your forward until you lean the rest of the way in and press your lips against her throat. Her eyelids flutter as you trail soft, closed mouth kisses over the hollow of her throat. She moans softly, and her fingers curl into your short hair. Fuck. She waits for a bit, letting you explore, but pipes up again when she feels you growing more hesitant –nerves winning out over exploration. “Use your tongue.” She shudders when you lick beneath her jaw. “Attagirl.”

The praise does something for you. You moan into her skin, then repeat the motion again. You swirl your tongue against her throat, mimicking the way the two of you had kissed seconds before.

“That’s it,” Sevika encourages you, eyes rolling back in her head. She rolls her hips against you, then groans when you press closer, neatly pinning her against the bar. “Good girl.”

You whine, loud and broken, then lift. You half lay her out on the bar, then support the rest of her by locking your arms just beneath her ass. You bend over her and bury your face in her neck, devouring her like a starved stray.

Sevika locks her ankles behind your back. She clutches at the back of your shirt with her right hand, and braces herself against the bartop with her left arm. She’s in the perfect position to grind against you, so that’s just what she does.

A small, idle fragment of her mind notes just how great this is. Yes, she enjoys having her way with women –and she’ll get to you soon enough–but there’s something to be said for receiving. It’s a new spin on “being eaten alive,” and she’s never been happier to be dinner.

She slides her fingers into your hair when your mouth trails lower, towards her clavicle. “Good girl.” She gasps, then tightens her grip on your hair when you drag your teeth over her collarbone. “That’s it –good girl, good girl–”

You moan and grind your hips against hers–

Something crashes in the alleyway outside. There’s a loud slam, followed by the crystalline crack of shattering glasses. An enraged, muffled shout ensues, followed by more heavy thudding.

You both freeze.

She recovers first. A few minutes of hearing proves it’s just a couple of angry drunks going at it –she can hear slurred, if muffled, arguing and grunting that accompanies being punched. Idiots. She turns back to you–

You’re completely stiff. Your eyes are wide, gaze flicking around the bar. You’ve gone from holding her to gripping the edge of the bar top.

Sevika winces faintly when she hears your knuckles crack. She opens her mouth to reassure you–

Another thud makes you flinch –and then you press down against her.

Sevika grunts. She tries to sit up, only for you to push her back down. She stops struggling when you use your arm to cover the top of her head. What the–

There’s something so deeply protective about the gesture that it makes her brain short circuit. You’re literally covering her with your body, as though the ceiling’s about to collapse on top of the both of you.

It’s sweet. It’s also bewildering because nothing bad is fucking happening. It’s just drunks in the alley; they’ll probably pass out long before they could ever beat each other to death.

Sevika gingerly splays her fingers against your back, between your shoulder blades. She murmurs your name, but gets no response –not even a glance of recognition. Her stomach drops when another round of shouting makes you flinch. She feels your chest push against hers as your breathing speeds up –and okay, that’s enough, time to divert things. She says your name, louder this time, then carefully cups the side of your face with her right hand. “Hey, baby. It’s okay. Just look at me, alright?”

You jolt when her thumb sweeps across your cheek. You do look down at her, though, and let out a shaky breath when you meet her gaze.

She revels, just for a moment, in how quickly you melt again under her attention. You’re still tense –you haven’t let up your death grip on the bar top–but your shoulders loosen up and your breathing slows a bit. You swallow hard, then lean every so slightly into her touch.

Focus. She can already feel herself getting sucked back into dreamy, brainless bliss. Focus, focus, focus. She blinks hard, then clears her throat. “Hey. Let’s get out of here, yeah? My place is quieter.” She pushes up on her left arm so the counter isn’t digging into her back. “More comfortable.”

“Oh.” Your eyes go wide. “Uh–”

Sevika swallows a grimace. Shit. Maybe Ran was right; she’s rusty, too eager, and now she’s pushing too fast. “It’s okay if you don’t–”

“No, no,” you cut her off. “We can –I just–” You set her down, then lick your lips as you rock from foot to foot. “My bed’s probably bigger.” You shrug and shove your hands in your pants pockets. “That’s all.”

Only several years of playing cards keeps her from sagging in relief. She nods, trying to process as panic flashes and ebbs, then takes a moment to study you. She notes the tightness in your shoulders, the way you’ve got your head ducked, and presses her lips together faintly. “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Your eyes flash, and you step closer to her. “It’s not,” you growl, “an issue of want.” You swallow, then let out a self-deprecating laugh –which, fortunately, prompts you to relax a little. “I just won’t know what I’m doing, s’all.”

“I can work with that.” Sevika closes the distance between the two of you, gripping your hips when you bend down and kiss her again. She savors the feeling of your lips for a moment, then pulls away and grins up at you. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

[lightbulbonawire]

Misfits (yeah like the Arcane song)

III.

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Author's note: I'm keeping my word and posting daily until Ekko appears, maybe a few more chapter after that, anyway hope yall are doing great and have fun :] xoxo

Second chapter

Masterlist

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The elevator came to a stop and footsteps could be heard behind Vi punching the wall, you eyed her while she worked herself up. The footsteps came to a stop right in front of you shared cell. Vi turned her face to the figure.

"Who the hell are you?"

She growled at it. You turned your face, expecting a guard, coming to have a 'talk' with you two, but no. A slim girl, blue hair and blue uniform, stood there. A piltie? The girl looked awkward and you almost felt bad for her. Almost.

"I took a look at your file, there's no record of you, or your crimes. What are you here for?"

The blue haired girl said.

"My sunny personality"

Vi let the wall be and came closer to the metal bars, it was kind off menacing, but Vi didn't scare you. The piltie on the other hand...

"You attacked an inmate. Why?"

Of course she did.

"Why not?"

Vi begun to pace around the room, whilst you waited in the shadows, leaned against a wall and listening

"He was a witness in an ongoing investigation."

"Hmm, bummer."

"This was a waste of time."

The piltie sighed and turned to walk away, before Vi spoke again.

"Couldn't have put it better."

She agreed with the girl.

"Hey, give a Silco a kiss on that winning eye of his, will ya?"

You spaced out for a bit, being brought back to reality by a sudden noise made by Vi lunging at the bars after the girl crossed the red line on the floor, that was there for their protection.

"Where did you get this?"

Vi rasped at the girl, looking at something she held up, you couldn't see much of it but it looked like a notebook. Honestly, you were getting kind off bored by their conversation so you just spaced out for most of it. And before you knew it, the piltie was gone.

"Did you have fun?"

You finally spoke, turning your face to Vi.

"I, I don't know what to think about it."

She answered honestly, her face, almost unseeable in the dark of the cell, portrayed a mix of emotions.

"I have a feeling she'll be back"

You almost sung to her and she nodded in answer.

And you were right, the damn piltie did come back, and with release papers, but only for Vi.

"Uh hello? I'm here too ya know?"

You retorted back as the guard pulled Vi out and tried to get out. The guard pushed you back and grunted.

"You're a fucking asshole, hey Vi, don't forget 'bout me 'kay?"

"Wouldn't dream of that."

She replied while the piltie watched the situation silently and then they just walked away. But you weren't too mad about it and just waited for the lift to dissappear with them. When you were sure the coast was clear, you took out a ring with lots of keys on it and swung it on your finger, then you went to unlock the cell door, whistling in the meantime.

The lift came to a stop with a ding and the doors opened. Adrenaline was already pulsing through your veins and you broke into a run towards the exit, hoping to still catch the boat Vi and the piltie probably were on. The guard, three times your size, didn't even get to react and you were already out the front door, speeding towards the water. You didn't waste any moment and plunged into the cold cold liquid that surrounded the Stillwater prison.

"Wait!"

You yelled while pushing through the water.

"Vi!"

Their boat wasn't far, maybe you could reach it still. Someone on the deck ran to the fencing, leaning over it.

"Stop the boat!"

You recognized Vi's voice and started swimming like your life dependency on it, becouse it really did. But you managed to reach the boat before anyone could've catch you. Vi leaned out more and grabbed your outstretched hand, pulling you up just like she did when she was teaching you how to fight.

"You're insane."

[revelisms]

Excerpt: Six Years

Vi wrestles with the realization of how much her sister has changed—and how many unwanted parallels she sees between Silco and their father. From a work-in-progress set after heron blue.

In some ways, she was still so familiar. Her perpetual nest of a living condition and geriatric sense of humor; her inability (refusal) to tend to her hair, herself. Yet, in so many ways, she's nothing like the girl Vi remembers. 

A shell. A stranger.

Jinx—a name that doesn't belong to her sister, that christens a girl who spits at the name Powder; whose body bares sinew and steel, wears yellowed stains at her chipped fingernails and speaks a drawl decades beyond her years—isn't a child, anymore. 

Eleven years, enmeshed in each others' days and nights; eleven, that Vi had always been with her. 

Powder's rock and shield. Powder's everything.  

Then the cannery had happened. Stillwater had happened. That monster had happened—

A monster whose gait she could pick out from a crowd: hears prowling over the floors now, above the jukebox and the metal tickings and her sister's self-directed rambling—a heavy-heeled th-thumping up the varnished steps, his coat a devil's whisper against the walls.

Vi steels herself. Beside her, Jinx prattles on. 

"Y'ever thought of fighting in a ring, sis?"

Th-thump, th-thumping over the dark floors.  

"You'd be the scrappiest scrapper in the Underground. Bet they'd call ya the Red Devil—or Lead Lettie—or Sourmouth Suckerpunch—"

She stares, unblinking, plastic squeezed beneath her thumb. Through the sliver of her sister's cracked door, a polish-slick boot wades through the shadows. Stills.  

"What you really need," Jinx says, with a lax crook of her screwdriver, "is a pair of Vandie's old gauntlets—that'll set'em right."

Vi swallows. The hall's dark devours the wraith on the other side of the door: shrouds all but the unearthly cat's-eye that tips over the leather at his shoulder, burning like a funeral pyre over a rotting corpse. 

"Yeah," she says, stiffly. Comb-teeth bite into her palm. "That's all I need."

His stare lingers—three-four-five beats—before it flits to the floor, trails over the blue tangled within her fingers, traces its mess back to the girl lounged beside her. Jinx stays worlds away in her tinkering, head lolled against the floor. She wrenches another screw into place.

"It's late," Jinx huffs, without needing a glance. "I know."

Silence, for a moment. Then Silco agrees, "It's late, indeed."

Jinx scowls. "One'ta talk."

If the shadows weren't playing a trick on her, Vi might have thought he'd smirked. But that bastard never smiled—never did anything but glare over his paperwork, around the vile plumes of his cigars: eyeing her hyena of a sister like a stray in need of a meal, and Vi like a bull ready to charge. 

Signing a blood-pact to his enterprise (their city's scheme for fiscal independence; her sister's unfathomable choice for a homestead) had done nothing in the way of trust. He'd taken an overseer's scrutiny to her, from the day she'd put her name in ink: a dead-eyed panopticon hounding her every waking hour, as though she'd never left that molding cell.

On one hand, a part of her reasoned, he had a right—sizing up her methods, as he would any new recruit; strategizing where best to slot her in the arteries of a drug-machine already years on the march. A more cynical thread knew he was laying his cards flat and playing the long game. Slouching back, idly, with eyes unblinking, to find any reason to put her under his heel.

She stares at the unmarred side of his face: a dim halo in a coal-blackened sea.

Eleven years that she'd been with Powder.

Six—nearly seven, now—that Jinx has had this snake at her side.

From the doorway, his shadow gravels, "I take it you'll be off soon." 

"Soon as the bell chimes." Jinx flits her wrist, pinkie-promise. "Not a rhyme later—cross my hearts and hope to snore."

Silco makes a low chuff at that: strange, quiet, bemused. A not-quite laugh, like Dad used to do. 

For a moment, a breath tangled in her throat, Vi sees him. 

He was tower of a man, thin as a string. His voice itched with smoke-pocked lungs and dreams that glittered like the stars. He kept chewing tobacco sweetened with cinnamon under his tongue, and he wore the mines on his clothes; gave hugs that made one's soul feel like it'd been wrapped in down-feathers; made the moonlight seem like nothing more than hand-sculpted glass: some beautiful thing he'd spooled on a thread and hung up there for all to see.

He'd been everything to her—her image of whistle-toothed optimism, her laughter, her guiding light—until he wasn't.

Freckles smattering her cheeks, her unruly hair the color of redmilk tea, a younger version of herself had shrieked over the idea of having to share her plates, pillows, toys with some snot-nosed little girl—a blue-haired, rambunctious, wailing thing—a sister. She'd stomped her feet and thrown fits over it. Told Dad, flat out: I don't wanna have her!

He'd stood slouched over her, hands bracketed at his thin waist, a glitter in his pale eyes, and chuffed. You'll do great, Lettie. His smile always pulled a touch crooked at one corner: a sincerity that, without fail, made her believe him. 

She'd always believed him, then. 

She was too young, too naïve not to.

Staring into an empty threshold, into a shadowed hall, a ghost of footsteps thudding down the dark floors, Vi fights to forget their father's voice. To block out the echo of a rasp no part of her wants to compare to it. To ignore the remnants of smoke on the air—tower of a man, thin as a string, heels heavy-footed from those damn mines—that belonged to a man she'd sooner wring the neck of. Wouldn't dare put in the same vein of everything their father was.

(Complicated. Self-loathing. Hellishly tempered. Kind.)