DecayingBlackRose | FanFiction
The debacle of the mine robbery was the last straw for Vi, and she swore never to work with anyone she didn't fully trust. She kept the Pulverizer Gauntlets, and. Vi never knew where she came from, she gave up trying to find her parents, 27 - Updated: May 4 - Published: Sep 8, - [Caitlyn, Vi] Jinx, Ekko - Complete And she knew she could trust her with those, she was her treasure, her love Her only place is by Caitlyn and their relationship is fraught with conflict and desire. But looking at Jinx and Vi they don't look the same at all. There's also Trust me. You are Lots of fan theories for this particular relationship.
The psychopath may be the bane of Vi's existence, but the Sheriff's obliviousness to her affections is honestly the only thing she wants to deal with. Tensions are high and, in the end, something's got to give. During this period of time, they've developed some feeling that they've been keeping hidden from each other. Will they tell each other about their love for each other?
Find out, by reading Vault Breaker! Rated T for mild suggestive themes, and some language that may be added later in on. From rivalmance to true love, can they make it work, despite their many differences? On one such evening, she sets out to find somewhere else to stay for the night and winds up at the mansion of a handsome, broody elf Rated M for later chapters. I've got a bunch of Dragon Age 2 drabbles I'm going to stitch together into something long-form. We'll see what happens. May end up fluffernutter.
But what's she really playing at? Maya's POV, follows pretty much the entire Borderlands 2 storyline It's the splash of water on cracked, seared throats.
It's the play of ice on scorched tongues. It's the patter of raindrops on burning skin. How would Varric tell the tale? I guess you will have to read to find out! Rated M to be on safe side with language. Developing a thick skin was just as important, and everyone who encountered Vi knew her as someone who could punch or talk her way out of trouble.
More often than not, she chose the former. None of the old timers from Vi's youth could tell her anything of her parents, with most assuming they had simply died in one of the industrial accidents that were, sadly, all too common in Zaun.
A few vaguely claimed to remember her as one of the brats from Hope House, a crumbling orphanage cut into Zaun's cave-riddled cliffs. On his deathbed, a notoriously mad sump-scrapper claimed to have found Vi adrift in a bassinet large enough for two in the ruins of a collapsed chem-laboratory. In the end, Vi gave up on any notions of learning anything about her parents, figuring some things were better left unknown. Wilder tales than that soon came to surround Vi as she garnered a reputation among the undercity's gangs.
With her wild pink hair, Vi was a distinctive sight on the streets of Zaun; hightailing from angry shopkeepers in the glittering arcades of the Boundary Markets, swaggering through the colorful bazaars of the Lanes or hitching rides up into Piltover aboard the hexdraulic conveyors.
Wherever there was a scrape to be gotten into or a scam to be run, odds were, Vi was in the thick of it. Despite her reputation as a troublemaker, she followed a code that meant she never stole from those that couldn't afford to lose what she took and never hurt those that didn't deserve it.
As she got older, the capers of childhood became more audacious and daring, with Vi forming a gang of her own. Brash and quick to anger, she still liked to use her fists a little too much, and though she was usually the last one standing in any dispute, her eyes were frequently black and her lip split from fighting.
yoon | FanFiction
Over the years, Vi formed a friendship with the owner of a bar on the edges of the Lanes, and he was able to temper some of her more self-destructive tendencies. He reinforced her code and showed her how to fight with discipline, as well as teaching her ways to better direct her simmering anger.
Despite his steadying influence, Vi's gang ran riot across Zaun, with the Chem-Barons tolerating their antics only because they knew she and her crew were sometimes useful. Their pickup would arrive soon. Back at the cop shop, Vi rolled away to lick her wounds while Caitlyn logged the day's events. After processing the new inmate, Caitlyn moved the rest of her files to her data-stick. She intended to spare the night watch her company and work from home.
Heading to the locker room to change, Caitlyn saw Vi before the mirror, stripped to the waist. Pieces of bloody shot and a pair of tweezers lined the sink. Vi bit down on her lip as she sewed up the holes in her skin.
Her long, muscular back tensed with each stab of pain. Growing up on the wrong side of the law had taught Vi to be self-sufficient in many ways.
They were both comfortably silent as Vi finished her work. Breathing a little heavier with the fresh discomfort of her stitches, Vi grinned like a wolf. It was apparently cold in the locker room. Caitlyn observed that Vi's nipples were the same pink as the hair on her head but not the hair beneath her arms.
If I were scared of my own blood, I'd have told you to stick your job. It was either this or jail. A few beers'll take the edge off. Her eyes darted across Vi's torso.
The treatments had been successful though some of the nerve damage was permanent. No one at the station had agreed to come as they had homes or families to attend. Vi knew they would just watch lifestyle shows or play video games. The "City of Progress" could be so lame. She felt aroused to distraction. Caitlyn had been turning Vi's crank all day but that exchange in the locker room had moved things up a gear. Despite her refinement, Caitlyn sought attention.
However, she seldom returned it. Vi was sure that Caitlyn was some flavour of not-entirely-straight, even when rounded down for wishful thinking. The jury was out on whether she was merely flexible enough to indulge in a bit of spicy friction with a convenient admirer… or trapped in a deep closet, sobbing on an empty bed that was torturously cold without the warmth and love of a good woman.
Despite Vi's eagerness to party, she grew maudlin. She could have gone on the prowl but hadn't been to a gay bar in months. She either got scolded for betraying the counter-culture and working for "the man" — a term so loaded that Vi's brain struggled to process it — or she got sympathy. She would be plied with alcohol, nestled into the bosom of a liberal arts student with long brown hair and glasses then urged to leak snot and poetry about her beloved Caitlyn.
If Vi got lucky, she would then be pity-fucked by either an emotional vampire or another lovesick basket case. Vi guffawed, earning a few strange glances. The scenario was so tragic, it made her laugh.
That was so not her. She would stop moping, find a dive, make some friends in low places and get drunk on cheap Zaun lager. Vi found a bar that was large, full and generic enough to impede any unwelcome intimacy. She was having fun, in that she could isolate little details and savour them, the feel of the bottle in her hand, the taste of hops, the buzz of alcohol. The air was rich with sweat and smoke. She leant over the counter and stubbed out her cigarette, taking the chance to ogle a barmaid in a low-cut top who seemed weary of the attention.
Vi wondered if the barmaid had a husband or boyfriend who would survive an arm-wrestling match. Feeling bold, Vi reached back to adjust her hair, really just feigning a reason to flex her exposed "guns". Her tight white vest nicely showed off her bust and muscles. Vi's only regret was that she didn't have snazzier tattoos.
She'd never had the money or contacts for a really flashy piece of art. A sleeve like Jinx's smoking rocket design would do the trick.
Perhaps the reason for Jinx's continued freedom was a police tattoo deficit. Vi laughed as she imagined Caitlyn getting a nice big tramp stamp above her nice big ass.
That was one for the suggestion box. The bar felt a bit "meh" despite its popularity. The clientele were too civilised. Wanting to improve the ambience and spread her good cheer, Vi loudly announced her intention to buy a round. The customer on the adjacent bar stool turned and glared with pure hatred. It was the witness from before. He had gelled his hair and cleaned up since his interrogation, so Vi hadn't clocked him, and he was sufficiently drunk and woolly-headed that he hadn't recognised Vi out of her police uniform.
Now he was looking straight at her, the pink hair and tattoo were unmistakable. Leave us be and go back to your fucking pigsty. You got a problem with that? Ain't I suffered enough? All I did was soften you up. I didn't "leave you for dead".
If you're that fragile, you should have spilt your guts. Looks simple enough to me. You got family of your own? I got a kid and a grandpa to look after. If you took some responsibility, maybe you wouldn't be pissing their bread up a wall. She even called them up to fetch me.
She just wants you out the house so I can sit on her face. He weakly gripped his bottle and swung it at Vi's head.
The blow was nothing more than a heavy tap but it was the abuse that really stung. However, no woman alive should be chastened for being gay or libidinous. Whipping her arm like a corkscrew, she smartly punched the witness off his stool. Vi rolled her shoulders, expecting the juicy mayhem of a saloon brawl. The witness had a lot of friends with him. About ten of them formed a half-circle around Vi.
This was not going to be mutual catharsis, just a vengeful beat-down. Vi was oddly disheartened but put up her dukes. She might as well get some practice in.
Vi lost the fight. She was the toughest person in the room but she had only two fists and there were over a dozen faces. She staggered into the road, trying to maintain her posture.Lore of Legends: Jinx the Loose Cannon
The mob stayed by the entrance and taunted her but none were willing to step within range. The pig had been removed. No need to risk life and limb for more. Vi spat blood and pointed at the crowd. I got your numbers. Next time, I'll bring my gauntlets and a world of pain! The threat was real and the patrons were savvy enough to be frightened. Speaking through blood, the witness staunched his nose.
Stick to your kind and let us normal folk be starving and miserable.
Is that too much to ask? I ain't bothered by any of that. Just get off my case! Any more than you would? Pounding the sidewalk as if she was on patrol, Vi weighed her options. She could go home to her squalid little flat and lie awake until the morning, growling in agony and watching the ceiling or She could buy a six-pack and drink more but adding a thumping hangover to her beating sounded hellish.
Vi loathed to admit it but her personal life was not worth anything. Despite her overt rejection of banality, she had become another one of those sad fucks whose life revolved around work. Her identity, fulfilment and social life had withered away until there was nothing left but the "Piltover Enforcer".
She had no friends, peers or lover. All she really had was Caitlyn. No one else in the police or wider administration had anything to do with Vi. Caitlyn was probably awake. She didn't get much beauty sleep these days, judging by how often she re-applied her makeup. Vi figured she might as well stop by and doze on the couch. She didn't want to be alone. Very few people knew where Caitlyn lived. She was a high-value target with dangerous enemies. Her apartment was on the top floor of a mid-market high-rise.
The roof was one of her favourite vantage points though she took care not to use it too often. Some of her foes were clever and observed facts like area, trajectory and frequency. Vi hobbled through the porch and rang the intercom.
A dome whirred as the camera inside turned her way. A minute later, footsteps padded through the lobby. Caitlyn approached, wearing a short silk kimono. Her bare face was heavy with sleep and worry. Vi melted at the sight. Caitlyn could have disengaged the lock from her condo but had come down in person after seeing Vi's injuries.
With an emphatic sigh, Caitlyn helped Vi to the elevator. Once the door shut, Caitlyn lifted Vi's top and examined the stitches. They were still intact. Caitlyn's apartment was at the end of the hallway, secured by two locks and one code.
This was the only place that Vi could truly relax.
Nowhere, a league of legends fanfic | FanFiction
Her own digs made her restless if she weren't in the shower. Caitlyn's home was plain but well-equipped. It was not perfectly tidy. Documents littered the coffee table. Long-dry clothing hung from radiators. A few surfaces were dusty.
Caitlyn was organised but didn't have time to make her lifestyle a part-time job. Certain things had to slide. Vi fell onto the sofa with a loud grunt and put her feet on the armrest. Caitlyn tapped Vi's legs. True enough, they dangled over the edge. She promptly undid Vi's laces and slid off the boots. There's not enough perfume in the world to mask that. Granted, the absurd heels masked the length of Vi's flippers but she never seemed embarrassed enough to tolerate the inconvenience.
Perhaps Vi just liked to feel pretty. What Vi did feel was giddiness at her dirty laundry sharing a basket with Caitlyn's.
However, if Vi were being honest with her hopes, Caitlyn was uptight enough to keep separate loads. Vi wondered if there was a better feeling than those hands brushing the soles of her feet. I'll have a shower in the morning. I may choke on my own sick! While the water boiled, she fetched a pack of frozen peas and some wet wipes.
Vi scrubbed the blood from her face and held the peas to her swollen brow. One of the punches had nearly given her a black eye. Caitlyn brought a cup of tea for herself and a glass of water for Vi. I want to make sure you can keep that down before giving you anything else.
I have work to do. She was not wearing underwear and her kimono did not stretch terribly far. Any kind of struggle to dislodge Vi could reveal far too much. Vi rubbed her cheek on the material. It proved difficult as Caitlyn was preoccupied with the fear of unwilling but detectable arousal, a fidget or pheromone, caused by the proximity of Vi's mouth.
However, numbers and spreadsheets proved a welcome distraction and Caitlyn put a dent in her work before her tea cooled. She leant back with her cup, enjoying the taste while Vi dozed underneath. Caitlyn was surprised to feel so content. Small pleasures were well-earned after a hard day minding both a city and a Vi, and having company made her apartment less remote.
Caitlyn liked her solitude and privacy but they grew old when Vi left the morning after one of her burnouts. More and more, Caitlyn found herself doing silly little things, like unplugging the air fresheners so Vi's scent lingered, and washing her clothes to keep them around.
Caitlyn figured she could adopt a stray cat instead of treating Vi like one. Wanting to luxuriate more, Caitlyn lit a cigarette.
She had many reasons for living apart from her family. Their safety was her priority. However, Caitlyn also wanted independence and the freedom to smoke openly. While her parents were liberal enough to suffer her provocative dress, they would not tolerate her nicotine habit, which was far too common.
She suspected they knew but said nothing. At the police station, it was an open secret. Detectives caught many tells even if they never saw her light up. Vi watched with unguarded happiness, her wide, grateful eyes absorbing every detail.
It was a privilege to see this hidden part of Caitlyn, to be so intimate with her. Vi often remarked on Caitlyn's desirability but right now, all Vi could see was Caitlyn's beauty, the naked, tired eyes, heavy and sensual, pale lips that would taste of skin, saliva and tobacco rather than glossy denial. Caitlyn took the cigarette and, smiling charitably, passed it to Vi. They both knew this was a stronger hit than nicotine.
Vi pulled hungrily and took Caitlyn's gift into her lungs, blood and heart. You'd be out for the count when I'm done with you. You can't say what people's lives are worth. I do recall you complimenting our greedy friend as you jumped on her.
She's still a bitch. You got problems, Cait. Piltover's not so barbaric that they put a price on life These can be measured. At one point they considered putting Jinx on your tab as her vendetta seems personal.
It didn't take much to shoot that down. I fixed it personally. The rest can go to hell. She merely finished the cigarette, tossed the stub into an ashtray then rolled over so her face was buried in Caitlyn's robe. Caitlyn writhed and had to turn away before her arousal emboldened Vi. Caitlyn's body was pleading for a cold shower.
Her words tickled Caitlyn's skin through the kimono. She teased Vi enough. It was only fair that the tables were turned. The subject of balance and equilibrium helped and Caitlyn soon got back into accounting. When the "Vi column" changed from red to black, she sank into the cushions, absentmindedly petting Vi who was too sleepy to react. Caitlyn briefly wondered if Vi had dressed to go courting. The black combat trousers did a sterling job of showcasing Vi's taut, muscular bottom.
Caitlyn watched for far longer than was decent and had to laugh. She couldn't dismiss that as "enjoying the attention". When the next census was conducted, she resolved not to tick the "heterosexual" box. Arousal and admin were strange bedfellows. The day was starting to catch up with her. She had to be up in five hours. Lifting Vi's head as gently as possible, Caitlyn made to leave.
Vi rolled over and mumbled sleepily at Caitlyn's thighs. Help yourself to anything you need. She was having intense dreams that were stubbornly vague. At one point, she had to reprogram her alarm clock after swatting it from her bedside table. The bright display and required focus bombed any chance of rest. Even though she slept naked under a thin duvet, she was sweating buckets. Guzzling water soothed her dry throat but dehydration wasn't the real problem.
She should have manually quenched her desire. However, a part of her psyche revelled in frustration. The idea of having Vi was so delectably wrong.
She was a lewd, ham-fisted reprobate. Caitlyn could not write a more scandalous tryst. The Piltover gentry would despair of her involvement with an employee of the wrong class, gender, manner Then there was the anticipation.
She had long conceded that, one day, she would fuck Vi. There were too many scenarios, getting drunk after a bust, a near-death experience, Vi creeping in right now and tipping Caitlyn's velvet into next week… Okay, that last scene was unlikely. Vi was bold and tactile but never went beyond a vulgar comment or playful grope. Caitlyn was losing her mind. Had she planned her course of action when Vi rang the intercom?
There was no doubting that Vi would weaken before Caitlyn's personal escort and skimpy attire She deserved a break and Caitlyn deserved to run her hands all over that impossibly hot body and feel those muscles grind vigorously in all the right places… Before she knew it, Caitlyn had slipped out of bed and into her kimono. It would not do to appear naked. There had to be ceremony. She moved between pools of light as if crossing a stage. Even in the dead of night, Piltover was a bright city.
The long shadows made Vi look even taller, legs protruding from the sofa. Despite Vi's claim that she slept anywhere, she never seemed comfortable. It came as no surprise when she stirred. Vi was called simple by rivals and allies but, like everyone, she wore a mask.
With no time to compose her snarl, her eyes viewed the world as if powerful jaws would snap shut, chew her up and spit her out.
She didn't even say anything to acknowledge Caitlyn's presence. Maybe Vi's nascent police faculty read something new in Caitlyn's walk. Maybe there was something in the air, something more primal. Caitlyn took both of Vi's hands and swayed back. Their arms stretched across the air like a tightrope. Vi watched with trepidation and longing until Caitlyn gave a short tug and Vi obeyed, shuffling like a child. Caitlyn led them to her bed.
She reclined, willing Vi to read the cues and pin her to the mattress. When Vi did not respond, Caitlyn released her grip, sidled over and turned the cover in invitation. There was something positively divine about that first moment her nipples were exposed before a lover, the cool kiss of electric air. Vi had cheerfully molested Caitlyn before. Now the time was right, Vi was strangely docile. Guessing that Vi was too bleary-eyed for subtlety, Caitlyn advanced like a snake, running her breasts up Vi's body.
Vi caught her breath and held Caitlyn's shoulders as if fighting the urge to explore the rest. Trying to send the message that exploration was definitely on the menu, Caitlyn stroked Vi's hard abdomen with one hand, marvelling at how the muscles tightened sexily with each spark of arousal, while popping the button of Vi's combats with the other. You'll have to take these off. Vi gawped with stunned, opaque madness. Just as Caitlyn thought Vi would finally seize her reward, Vi growled through her teeth and threw Caitlyn away.
What the fuck are you doing? She covered her ugly scowl with her hand. The smell of Vi's body stoked her disappointment. I should have known you'd go soft. Caitlyn wiped the blood from her mouth. This time, she harnessed her fury and dented the wall rather than Caitlyn's skull. That you're the only reason I eat, drink, have a roof over my head?
Was it not bloody obvious? She toyed with her belt loops, not wanting to symbolically raise her drawbridge or stay awkwardly half-dressed. Eventually, she stepped out of her pants, a conciliatory gesture. Caitlyn had suspected the reveal after her amorous incursion but it was still a shock to see Vi wearing a thong. The flawless curve of Vi's rear, in that outfit, was apparently by design.
Although Caitlyn was unhappy, she accepted the peace-offering and shifted the duvet, mollified that Vi hadn't simply run away. Vi slipped under the covers and sat bolt upright, her knees pulled close to her chest. You're twice my size.
You call me pathetic but you suck at this. You learn to fuck by watching Alistar? Embarrass yourself when another woman gets you wet. See if I care. Pretend you have the slightest clue what you want. There was only the sound of their breathing, the hum of hextech, and the distant murmur of street life. It was Caitlyn who finally spoke. Are you still sore or am I Your folks would take care of it I'd end up on the streets. The gangs would spit-roast me and stick an apple in my mouth.
I only gave you the chance, Vi.