imaginaryttowns

[imaginaryttowns]

☆彡 my sevika backstory headcanon.

because i’m what?! that’s right, insane about her

a/n: this is entirely my own fanon conjecture, but i tried my best to remain as canon compliant as possible. in my defense it’s not like riot and christian linke gave us fanfic authors anything substantial to work with. still bitter about that btw. a/a/n: forgive me because this is going to a two parter. it’s gonna be like the longest thing ever. i'm gonna try to break it up into chunks using thematically relevant music and images.

☆彡 word count:

☆彡 content warnings: gambling, smoking, drinking (alcohol), blood, violence, childbirth complications, exploitation, missing father figures

sevika was born at 9:07AM on a saturday. a late birth, she was exactly 10 pounds and 22.5 inches long. the labor process was long and arduous, and within moments of sevika’s first skin-to-skin contact with her, her mother began to cry out in tandem with her, saying the shocks of pain were persisting and that this time they were coming from her lower back. within minutes of her birth, sevika was whisked away from her mother’s breast as the midwives scrambled to take care of the shrieking woman spread eagle in the bloodsoaked bathtub.

fortunately, sevika was not one of the many children of zaun who were forced to raise themselves in the streets without their parents. her mother survived, but was left paralyzed from the waist down from the birth. (if we were to give her a modern-day diagnosis, she suffered an attack of transverse myelitis.) she was wheelchair bound after that day — so the leading midwife stayed behind to help her with sevika for the first year and a half of her life.

after that, the two seemed to have found a happy medium of existence. sevika, from a young age, understood there were some things her mother needed help with. and even when she could barely walk, she would open cabinets, fetch plates, answer the door for her mother. she always seemed to want to help her, to be of service.

speaking of sevika's mother, let's talk about her a bit more. the daughter of two ionian refugees (pre-noxian invasion), yamini was a soft-spoken woman with a smile as big as her heart. she had a head full of long, dark hair, which she wore in a side braid, that trailed over her shoulder and down the front of her torso - a braid that sevika loved to play with and tug at as a toddler.

she was a musician by trade, and her instrument of choice was an upright piano made of a vibrant cherry wood with a dark stain, on wheels for ease of transportation. yamini couldn't use the pedals anymore, and it had an out-of-tune F# key, but that didn't stop her from playing many a tune. this piano seated many of sevika's childhood memories, pressed against the stairwell of their house - yamini was happy to entertain, and whatever song sevika desired to hear, she would play for her. sevika in toddlerhood was often an active participant, clapping along, happily bobbing her little body to the rhythm.

when sevika, at four years old, put her paint-covered hands all over the side of the piano - a bright blue paint that stood out against the rich warmth of the cherry wood - her mother initially was mortified, disciplining sevika with a stern voice she hated to use, forcing the little girl to wash her hands. but as time went on, and sevika got bigger, the smudged handprints grew on her. she would tell sevika as much, saying that her "old girl had some character now."

besides music, a formative memory for sevika in her childhood was her mother's deck of cards, kept in a little blue drawstring bag on the music stand of the piano for safekeeping. when sevika aged past diapers and began to be more resistant towards bedtime, it was often the late hours of the night where she would find yamini awake, sitting at the little table nestled close to their fireplace playing against an imaginary partner. sevika would sit on the stairs, just out of view, and watch from above - the cards arranged in neat piles, trying to make out the shapes on them.

"sevika, i know you're up there," her mother said one of these nights, locking eyes with her daughter as she spoke around a small pipe that hung from her lips.

well, a six-year-old sevika was nearly scared out of her skin. she knew she wasn't supposed to be up at this hour, but she clearly thought she was better hidden than she actually was. just before she could get up and scurry back into bed...

"come on, come down and sit with me," her mother continued, gentle as ever as she swept the cards into one big pile at the center of the table.

usually, yamini was more strict regarding what time sevika went to bed - but something was different about tonight. perhaps it was because of sevika's upcoming seventh birthday, perhaps she was feeling especially lenient for no discernible reason. in any case, sevika tentatively made her way down the stairs, flinching at the way the wooden boards creaked under the weight of her feet, and promptly made her way to sit in the chair yamini had already pulled up to the table.

"oh, sevika, you're barefoot," yamini said, exasperated, with worry furrowing her brows. sevika knew exactly what she was going to say next, that it was the middle of winter and her bare feet should not be touching the cold floors of their home. sevika, in reaction, pulled her feet up from the floor to tuck them under her in the chair, sitting criss-cross.

"sorry, ma..."

"never you mind that," yamini sighed, subverting her daughter's expectations yet again, "what's wrong, darling?"

sevika, eyeing the stack of cards in the middle of the table that seemed 10 feet tall based on her unreliable math skills, didn't quite know what to say.

"what're you doing, ma?"

her mother clearly expected something more dire to be the matter of sevika's nightly reconnaissance missions, the stunned pause she lent to the conversation matching her slightly bewildered expression. the bewilderment melted away into a smile that communicated something the young girl couldn't understand in the moment. relief, an older sevika would realize in reflection of the memory, relief was the emotion behind her mother's smile.

"is that all?"

"yeah..."

"well, you little loon," yamini said as she removed the pipe from her mouth, "i'm playing cards and smoking my pipe."

"can i look?"

"of course you can, darling."

sevika asked questions left and right, and yamini answered them all as succinctly as she knew how. by the end of the night, sevika dreamed of cups overflowing with water and golden coins with pentacles carved into them, roman numerals labelling everything. after that night, yamini went back to having a scheduled bedtime for sevika, but she made it a bit later than it was before, always making time for one game of cards with her little girl before bed. sevika's reconnaissance missions didn't necessarily stop, but they were much fewer and far between. and these few times she did find herself sitting on the stairs gazing longingly at the enigmatic imagery of those cards, she knew to hide herself more effectively.

time passed, and around the 10-year mark was when sevika began to notice some things. things that she didn't pay any attention to before, things that other snot-nosed kids in the streets brought to her attention.

her mother's eyes were deep, dark, shining pools of brown - meanwhile, hers were the grey of stormclouds. her nose was always larger than the other kids', larger even than her mother's. and her changing body - lanky, taller than other kids, awkward, a far cry from her mother's much smaller frame. these differences she began to notice, began to exaggerate in her mind when she looked at herself in the mirror all spawned from a comment she received from one of her peers.

"where's your dad at, huh?"

it wasn't a particularly cruel comment - missing parents were the norm in the undercity, whether they were dead (or worse, in stillwater.)

but what kept sevika's mind on the question was the fact she didn't have an answer for her peer. in fact, for years prior, she never even gave it a second thought. her mother was her entire world, where it started and where it ended. she didn't need a father to fill in the gaps because yamini was always there. but now the real question, the terribly real question of where her father was gnawed at her brain for years:

if her father was dead, why hadn't she ever heard about him? and if he wasn't, where had he been all these years?

so, at 12 years of age, when sevika simply couldn't keep it to herself anymore, she asked her mother a question as they picked over the meager remains of bread and dry-cured meat that was their dinner.

"ma," she said, "do i have a dad?"

yamini froze mid-chew.

the phrasing of the question was off, sevika knew it. but she wasn't exactly sure *how* to ask the question. it seemed a gargantuan topic, judging by the way her mother stared forlornly at her empty plate and took forever to swallow her last bite of food.

"yes," came the answer her mother gave after a long silence.

"...is he dead?

“i don’t think so.”

“in stillwater??"

"no, not to my knowledge."

sevika could barely contain herself, voice raising as she stood from her chair with such force that it clattered onto the floor, startling her mother.

"what's his name??"

"sevika, please. your father is not a good man."

"then why'd you have me with him, huh?!"

"sevika, that's--"

yamini's sentence was interrupted by a prolonged scream that was unmatched by any other sevika had let out before - full of anguish and bitterness and fury, she couldn't control herself as she kicked her chair across the room and into the kitchen, running away from the table before she could process what she had done. sevika can still recall how the outburst felt to this day - the hot tears streaming down her face, every nerve in her skin screaming along with her, every synapse in her brain firing, telling her to flee from her mother in that moment, the sound of the wooden stairs creaking under her heavy footfalls as she ran to her room and dove into her bed face-first.

she lay in there for what felt like an age, screaming into her pillow, throwing stuffed animals she had by now outgrown across her room, shallow breaths running her ragged, until she tired herself out and became more sane and her breaths more level. it was when she finally calmed down that she heard yamini's voice from downstairs, clear as a bell:

"sevika, come down here, please."

sevika groaned, angry at herself for leaving the door ajar and unwilling to meet yamini in the middle on anything right now.

"sevika?"

she kept quiet.

"darling, please," she could hear the sadness in her mother's voice, "you know i can't come up the stairs. please don't make me yell across this house."

damn her, sevika thought, punching her mattress before rising to her feet and trudging her way past her door and down the stairs, only seeing yamini's penitent form in her peripheral vision. sitting resolutely on the penultimate step, she hung her head in her hands.

"i am so, so sorry, my girl," she started, "i knew this day would come, when... when you'd want to know. but i suppose... i'd hoped you'd never be interested in him, that i could fill both roles, that i could give you something from the nothing we have."

her speech was filled with deep breaths and stutters. sevika felt less uncomfortable looking in her mother's eyes now, knowing now that this topic, her father, brought them both to similar places - tears staining their brown cheeks, the snot running down sevika's lip already dried by now.

yamini's eyes were still leaking like faucets, and she sniffled as she wiped away the tears as soon as they came.

"anything you want to know," she concluded, "i'll tell you if i have the answer."

sevika sniffled herself, trying to stay strong for her mother.

"what's his name? my dad?"

"...tui. his name was tui."

"how did you know him?"

"i played the venue he frequented," yamini said, clearing her throat, "he was a pit fighter. he fought people in a ring for money. people called him 'tui the terrible.' him and his friends would come into the bar once a week to have a drink. he always tipped me extra, and... he'd strike up a conversation, and i'd listen."

"...why isn't he here?"

yamini sighed, bracing herself for the confession to come.

"your father... your father always had this 'vision' for his life. that's his words, anyway," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes shut, "and so when i found out you were in my belly, i told him that i wanted to keep it. and..."

yamini trailed off, covering her eyes with her hand. sevika even in her frazzled state at this young an age could tell this was as painful for her mother as it was for her, if not more. after all, sevika had no memory to recall, no pain to recount. and so she patiently spoke up...

"...ma? what did he say?"

yamini blinked, unaware of how unceremoniously she had concluded her thought. her long eyelashes were wet, her eyes were red and puffy, but she persisted, shrugging her shoulders and frowning.

"...nothing. nothing. he said he wanted no part of it, that i had tried to trap him, that the undercity is a cruel place to raise children. he told me that if money was what i was after, you'd be better off if i gave you away to some nose-in-the-air pilties who could have given you everything you ever wanted. so i gave him what he wanted instead, and left him behind. i had you to worry about by that point, and i wouldn't have given you up for all the money in the world, sevika. *you* are my world, my entire existence. and i don't have much, but i have you, and that's more than those topsiders can ever say."

she had to stop herself from rambling too long, her breath hitching in her throat as she suppressed a sob, clapping her hand over her mouth to try and hide her quivering lip from her daughter. her eyes shut tightly as two more tears trickled down her face, past her clasped hand and into her lap.

sevika couldn't stand to see her mother like this, reduced to tears by someone so brazenly incompetent that he never even bothered to be in their life. by someone who wasn't even in the room. sevika had millions more questions to ask yamini - how could he say those horrible things? why didn't you tell me?? where is he now!? but the questions all were discarded so that she could hold onto her mother in her time of need, her newfound height proving awkward, as she crawled into her mother's lap on instinct the way she did when she was small - her gangly legs dangled off the side of her mother's wheelchair, her fingers dug into her mother's back as if to say don't let me go, and to secure her from falling, yamini embraced her daughter with all the might she had in her frail arms.

"oh, sevika, honey," yamini said with a sad smile, "you're so grown up now, my little girl."

for the rest of the night, through all the reassuring conversations and calming hot tea and the tranquility of card games, sevika couldn't seem to keep her mind from the anger of knowing who her father was now. the anger of knowing what kind of man he was, and her insatiable need to have a face for the name, if nothing else to smash it in and take from him all that he owed her and hers.

above image: Demeter and Persephone depicted in figurine form by Ancient Tanagra (late 4th century B.C.), Boeotia region, central Greece. The British Museum.

✌︎('ω')✌︎ hi again and thank you for reading all the way thru this!! when i finish up pt 2 i will post it, and link it here .

[imaginaryttowns]

strapping down cowboy!sevika in all of her glory?? I’M IN!!! MDNI 18+ strap-on use (s!receiving)..

she sure as hell had a big awful grin on her face every time a stranger complimented her larger than life physique and gains, tipping her cowboy hat when the old ladies ooh-aah-ed at how strong she is, and oh how lucky you are to be hers. needless to say they don’t need to know she wasn’t the one holding the reigns behind closed doors..

the musky smell of your mixed sweat filled the room, her controlled grunts kept on getting louder by the second as the slam of your thighs rendered her down to nothing but scrambling hands trying to hold onto your waist.

“ha-h yes” poor big ol' sevi had it coming as your mind filled with the sight of the women gloating over her and hovering and more so touching all over her with you by her side!! "say it" you spit against clenched teeth, looking down at the way her soaked pussy glistened, making you nearly drool and cause a mess.

" s-say wh-ah-t??" oh how she's so clueless, brows knitting so deep in question as she tries to not lose her mind. your strap hitting her deep—the same one she hand picked specifically for you to try on her, a girthy one at that.

hand slithering into her hair, bringing your face closer to hers, engulfing her heavy breaths and moans as you kiss her open mouth, eyes never leaving hers as she looks at your lips in pure hunger. a breathy whisper landing against her lips as she chases yours. "you're mine sevi say. it."

“ f-fuck ‘m yours, ‘is all for you” she groans as your nails dig into the flesh of her waist. “yeah that’s right vika..you’re all mine baby”

thrusts never ceasing, you bring your forefingers to her swollen enlarged and creamed clit, pinching and jerking her nub with enough force to have your big wife tumbling over as she mewls “f-fackk a-ngh.” hands groveling to hold something..anything.

“you gonna cum f’ me vika?? hm? gonna ruin the bed for us??”

“y-yes…pleaseee” her thighs vibrated as you felt her pussy grip the strap so tight it could’ve snapped off. “go on then” you command as your hand lands a soft slap straight onto her clit, earning a whine from sevika “ah-h.” her eyes rolling back and you swear you can feel the way her pussy spasms around the strap. “good job sevi” hand coming up to stroke up and down her thigh.

and there it was, a sight for sore eye. a creamy rim painting the base of your green strap that’s still so deep inside your lover as she lies there trying to catch her breath with a sweaty temple and shaky legs, so out of it and still looking at you with nothing but admiration as you in return admire the state you’ve put the strongest woman in town in. it is quite the flex...

© acidblum

[imaginaryttowns]

omg i love this!!!!!!! thank you so much !!!!!

Next To You

Never thought I could put anybody before me…

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Sevika and her rival right hand || A req by @imaginaryttowns

Song of inspo: Next 2 U - Kehlani

Summary: Sevika and her rival meet in the shadows, knowing each moment brings them closer to danger but they're unable to walk away.

Submit your reqs here

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The hum of the Last Drop wrapped around them—laughter, clinking glasses, the low thrum of the music—but in the farthest corner, where the light barely reached, Sevika exhaled a slow stream of smoke, eyes locking onto the only risk she was ever willing to take. Her. She was the rival right-hand to Silco's rival chem-baron, and my god, was she pretty.

But even God knew both of them should stay away. Silco had a long-running feud with the rival chem-baron for as long as time could tell, and both Sevika and the other right hand were always told to end the other—which they obviously failed to do. It wasn't because they realized they'd get the other killed if they did, but rather because they just couldn't.

Their chemistry was too strong, sparking like a lit match every time they crossed paths. It was reckless, dangerous—every glance, every brush of fingertips beneath the cover of dim lights and cigarette smoke, a risk neither of them should take. Yet here they were again, in the shadows of the Last Drop, pretending they weren’t one wrong move away from turning their world to ash.

She had seen Sevika fight for power, for territory, for survival—but never like this. Never with the kind of desperation that said, ‘I don’t care what they offer, I’m protecting you.'

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Had to cut this one a little short ml, because I kept fucking sneezing in the middle of writing the end of this shit — but I hope you at least enjoyed 🥲 (Dont kll me please)

taglist : @agentoffangirling @never-rune @iceteastrawbrry @pinkdollmate @havocskies @4gentm0thman

[imaginaryttowns]

newwww chapta obligatory reblog

Eau D'bedroom Dancing - Sevika x fem!sexworker!OC ☆ = NSFW

Sevika is bored one night in the Last Drop, bored beyond belief. Hopefully, a new customer with a pretty face can help her pass the time. But mindless fun will never be either of these women's strong suits.

ch.1 "First Impressions" (ao3 link)

☆ ch.2 "The First Night" (ao3 link)

ch.3 "The Morning After" (ao3 link)

(a/n: timeline-wise, these first chapters i publish will be taking place pre-robbing of jayce's apartment.)

(a/a/n: y'all will never catch me glorifying or sexualizing sex work in my writing, just so you know. sex work is not a cute little fetish and sevika is not really a 'john' in this fanfiction despite my OC being a sex worker. there will be strong themes around the struggle and trauma there is in working in that field further down the line. i have a strong dislike for fanfictions that employ prostitution "fetishes" or similar themes. fuck outta here if you're looking for that basically)

[imaginaryttowns]

some sketches of my OC yáo’án and vika from an airplane trip . sevika’s face in that first panel is me whenever i draw yáo lowkey

[imaginaryttowns]

tw; g!p sevika, pussydrunk sevika, shimmer (used)

       you hate it when sevika uses shimmer, truly. you know how bad and addicting it can get, so whenever sevika uses it, you give her the silent treatment, all the while still babying her. on the other hand, shimmer would get her so horny: she’d drool at the thought of you, dick would be so hard, it’ll be straining against her pants, she’d be fucking braindead.

all she would think about is eating your pussy out, muttering out pleas for you to sit on her face, suffocate her, and that she’d rather go out that way. honestly. you could be patching her up, and her fingers would sneak under your shorts and push your panties to the side just so that she can play with your clit and fuck you knuckle-deep.

of course, you would try to stop her—but she wouldn’t really care, more like, she wouldn’t be able to hear you because then again, she’s braindead and pussydrunk.

“sev—fuck, stop putting your fingers in me and let me take care of you.” you grumble while wrapping a bandage around her torso, choking back a gasp when you feel her curl her fingers, hitting that spongy wall. “oh my god.”

sevika ignores you, continuing fucking you with her fingers, urging you to take her cock out, “c’mon, doll. i need you. take my dick out, mamas.”

resisting the pleasure, you bite your lower lip and hastily finish binding her torso. you squint your eyes in anger at her before reaching down to unbutton her pants and fish her dick out.

“look at my dick, doll, got me leaking already.” she gives you a particular harsh thrust that has your toes curling, “you do this to me, doll. fucking love you and your pussy so much. touch me, baby, touch my dick.”

her eyes are faintly glowing with purple, along with the scars on her jaw all the way down to her bionic arm.

she’s hyper right now. with the way she’s fucking you; uncoordinated and harsh, she’s wild.

you squeeze her twitching dick, emitting a groan from her. god, she’s so sensitive for you, “sh-shut up, you’re such an asshole.”

“sit on my face, mamas.” your pussy clenches when you hear that, “fuck, doll. you like that? yeah? you wanna sit on my face? c’mon, doll. sit on my f’cking face. need you–need your pussy so much.” you rub your thumb on her tip, smirking in victory when her hips buck to chase more of your touch—that got her pleading more. “please, doll. sit on my f’cking face. need you–need your pussy so much.”

      you utter the words she dreads.

“i don’t think so, baby.”

[imaginaryttowns]

councilor sevika........

listen.... councilor sevika looks like she needs a hearty homemade breakfast, a cup of coffee, clean sheets, and someone to lick on her clit every morning of every day.

for lunch, this certain someone would most likely have packed her a bento for the day. perhaps something with plenty of veggies in it and a nude photograph for her personal enjoyment.

then for dinner she'd need something with a lot of protein, like soaking wet pussy or perhaps even an osso buco type of dish.

all i know is she needs to eat good and get loved down to keep up with the demanding task ahead of her! love your wife today.

[imaginaryttowns]

[imaginaryttowns]

Isha really wanted to go to work with aunty Sevika today

[imaginaryttowns]

Some of yall write Sevika dialogue like she’s Vegeta. I just thought you should know.

[imaginaryttowns]

“vi became an enforcer bc it’s in her LOL lore !1!1! it had to happen 1!!1!1”

oh, just like how jinx somehow magically gained sanity, cut her hair and then faked her death in LOL lore? or how caitlyn lost her eye in the “big battle” in LOL lore? or how—

oh… wait.

[imaginaryttowns]

it’s incomprehensible to me the amount of criticism launched fortiche’s way for season 2 lately. not incomprehensible because season 2 was perfect (it wasn’t, there were many many problems with it) but incomprehensible because NONE of these critiques seem to take into account the fact that riot and fortiche were initially going to give us 5 seasons.

netflix, the distributor, cut them short by 3 fucking seasons.

nearly all of the things that people are complaining about — disjointed pacing, unsatisfactory plot resolutions, characters’ stories seemingly being butchered — all of that, i would argue, is a direct result of the fact that netflix effectively shat in our cereal, and fortiche was forced to condense 4 seasons worth of plot into a single season.

as flawed as season 2 was, i think fortiche and riot did a good job all things considered. it’s honestly a miracle we’re even getting a second series atp.

maybe i’m looking at the show with some rose colored glasses but tbh i don’t even really care because i respect the fuck out of fortiche as a creative organization. and i know as a creative myself i would start killing people if i was put in the position they were forced into.

[imaginaryttowns]

Happy year of the snake! 🐍

[imaginaryttowns]

I love season 1 Jayce. He has the moral fiber of a chocolate eclair

[imaginaryttowns]

no one asked me at all but. if someone sends me a fic and it’s noncon/dubcon im like… hate to break it to u man but im not readin allat.

it makes me feel so fucking gross to read my favorite arcane character doing unspeakable things to the reader or even to other arcane characters i like. i will never understand the appeal of this genre or how popular it always somehow gets in fandom.

[imaginaryttowns]

[imaginaryttowns]

kind of obsessed with my dad's friend who apparently goes back to being a Buddhist whenever he gets a divorce