#stillwater cave

[arx-aru]

ok so. Both dungeons with Cleanrot Knights as bosses have 2 interesting quirks in common:

the "goons" (theoretically)protecting them are Servants of Rot and Miranda Flowers

there are items & casualties explicitly related to Rykard

From these we can speculatively-tentatively-theoretically extrapolate a few things:

a. Due to item descriptions associated with Servants of Rot, the present Malenia-Miquellan inhabitants of these caves arrived after the Battle of Aeonia, or were infected/indoctrinated by survivors of it

b. The placement of the Servants of Rot in relation to the boss!Cleanrots suggests they either view themselves as or are aligned with the Cleanrot Knights, presumably in a subordinate fashion

c. The cave in Caelid(Abandoned Cave) is littered with destroyed (Rykardian)Iron Virgins; the one in Liurnia(Stillwater Cave) has an outlying room filled with corpses, one being a Sage(wearing the same attire as Gowry) and another having seemingly been shot by Serpent Arrows... this translates to, most likely, the Miquellans and Rykardians having fought each-other at these locations

(The Serpent Arrows and Serpent Bow(found next to a derelict Iron Virgin) are both explicitly tools(or 'minions'??) of the Formless Serpents, connected with the Serpent Worshippers of Mt. Gelmir)

with another round of speculation telephone these dungeons, presumably 2 of the most thought-out Cleanrot encounters, seem to serve as suggestion of 1) a direct relationship between the Cleanrots and the Servants of Rot, 2) multiple post-Aeonia Miquellan-Rykardian skirmishes, 3) the loose, Doylist drawing of a parallel/comparison/contrast of some variety between Serpent pagans and Rot pagans

[eldrith]

How did all the hotd writers on here become friends?

i think the zoomers might call it ‘trauma bonding’

jk um i just have a sickness called chronic yapper syndrome

[tarnussy]

Does Godrick know there's a whole-ass cleanrot knight right below Stormveil?

[katyahina]

Romina, Scarlet Rot and God of Rot interpretation? What is the Abyss and what 'stagnation' has to do with Scarlet Rot?

(This is a reply for an ask I've got on my other blog) Anon I am sorry I am THIS late, I swear it was just me deliberately avoiding progressing in the DLC because I didn't want it to end + bad timing :pensive: But thank you for leaving this ask because I did want to discuss her as soon as I've met her!

What Happened:

She WAS a victim on Messmer's tyranny, and shown in the second trailer ( x )! Moreover, she originally appears to be from Belurat; not only this trailer shows Messmer specifically burning it, but also this is the exact previous scene before Romina appears:

So I am getting an impression that originally, these buds appeared in Belurat, and somehow Romina knew to relocate them somewhere else:

+ Also, if anyone here can read Japanese please let me know because I've heard that a more accurate translation would be 'she found a divinity and clung to it' or something alike! Here is the Japanese text:

全てを焼かれた教会で ロミナは異形の神性を見出し 禍々しい、朱い腐敗に縋った

焼け跡に、また蕾が芽吹くように

Abyss and Stagnation in this:

My initial interpretation was that originally, this type of buds was growing IN Belurat, and then what she saved got relocated in Rauh Ruins, but "within the scorched remains" part makes it sound as though their fate was being decided right in the moment of the tragedy! So, somehow, what later became Scarlet Rot appeared within the ruin! After all, Formless Mother is another precedent of a god originating from the tragedy:

But why would a plant-insectoid life sprout within the fire? So, basically, I'll dive into headcanons territory for this post, but hear me out! We are not sure what the 'Abyss' is, however.. what IF, when Messmer gets a bit TOO into using his powers, the power of Abyssal Serpent is capable of opening sort of a 'gateway' into somewhere else, and some kind of horror might escape that 'Abyss'?

+ I need to add that Abyss of the serpent plaguing Messmer and Abyss of the woods tormented by Frenzy are different things though; whereas serpent's Abyss is 深淵 meaning literally an abyss, Woods' Abyss is 奈落 that means Naraka (Hindu Hell)! His serpent is AKTUALY named Base Serpent, but he refers the 'Abyss' in his Stage 2 transition: '光無き、深淵の蛇が'. ( x ) In fact, his dialogue in both English and Japanese original suggests the 'Abyss' is a PLACE, where Base Serpent comes from! The mysterious space without light!

Look I can't help using this meme just deal with it fdsgfdgs So, let's say that Messmer got so unhinged that the gravity of his powers still opened up the Abyss a little, even despite the seal Marika gave to him!

The next interesting thing is that there are no traces of Scarlet Rot in Belurat, despite Romina presumably releasing/creaing it right on that spot! There ARE poisoned swamp, the illness that turns people into fly-men, and even giant Spider Scorpions that are a variant specifically developed because of Romina:

+ they likewise deal regular poison, not Scarlet Rot! Some of them developed the wings as well:

So it is more likely that what Romina allowed to live (to the worse or to the better you decide) was not yet the Scarlet Rot itself, however it developed INTO it later, together with her. But what was freed that day and what left its traces in Belurat, as well as spreading across more of the Shadow Realm with at least two villages full of man-fly sickness, was 'stagnation'!

It is a concept commonly addressed across other Fromsoft's games, specifically the stagnation of water 穢れ (kegare)! Poison and Scarlet Rot are connected through themes of poison AND stagnation of water! It is what becomes a poisonous swamp, one of the most Rot places is literally named Stillwater Cave and all that. Scarlet Rot is a 'stronger' version of the venom that becomes of stagnation!

^ (looking through this ( x ) model view video) Additionally, Romina features not only part of the scorpion but also part of the centipede, and centipedes were used as a symbol of human dregs in Sekiro and Bloodborne!

I've also noticed that Blood of Formless Mother, Scarlet Rot and Deathblight are all connected by shared themes of plantlife and spontaneoutsly sprouting winged insects! With the cursed blood, flowers quite literally grow from it and flies spawn from impurities within festering blood swamps. Deathblight are literally roots with multiple flies spawning along them + often getting to fly free too. Scarlet Rot IS associated with flowers and butterflies, and whereas Malenia herself never got insectoid wings (since wings of Goddes of Rot ARE the butterflies, like stated by Romina's incantation), her knights did:

(Close look by Zullie the Witch ( x ) as I've never took a picture)

These three scourges feel like three ugly siblings to me fsdhhfds Needless to mention that Blood Oath, Scarlet Rot and general poison incantations are crammed into the same category, and Death ones aren't here only because they're sorceries!

More interestingly, in Rauh Ruins we find not only Scarlet Rot, but also the Bloodfiends (so, the Formless Mother guys) AND Deathblight:

^ I forgot to take the picture as a proof that the Dancing Lion in Rauh uses Deathblight, so here is screenshot from this ( x ) video of battling it! There are NO Deathroots anywhere near its arena, however it summons Basylisks in the second stage and deals Deathblight damage itself! Divine beasts, additionally, are Belurat thing too!

So, we have all three of these 'affiliations' in Rauh Ruins, giving a strong impression that it is full of Belurat survivors! Whereas the man-flies sickness is found here too, Romina, Bloodfiends and death-dealing Dancing Lion all feel like they've went separate Pokemon Eevelution from the same initial 'stagnation' concept that is the sourse of fly sickness fhhsdgfds I think that either 1) it is exactly what I just joked about, and stagnation is able to naturally develop into one of these stronger "branches" over time or 2) it develops into something specific under influence of an outer god; Deathblight doesn't need 'Prince of Death' since Outer God of Death IS a thing!

Survivors of Belurat here found their affiliations, initially getting afflicted by the "clean" form of it, fly sickness Romina allowed to escape and live!

^ So yeah @ second anon, I do also think that Romina in Rauh guards what is left of her civilisation! Such as one of like, two Dancing Lions and other Hornsent that unfortunately got manfly sickness too! Except, she is not antagonistic to the Scarlet Rot or sees it as her tragedy, but on the contrary: she sympathised with it!

I know it sounds more like a fairytale than an solid theory, but my impression is that a lot of 'waste' goes into the Abyss space and supposedly should have been burnt by the Base Serpent forever! Not as something inherently evil, but just a natural part of the course of life! Eiglay is the God-Devouring serpent, too! Both of them serve as the forces that ensure everything and everybody meets their end eventually, they might even be related! Again, Dark Souls for one had ten Primordial Serpents! We know three here (Base Serpent, Winged Serpent and God-Devouring Serpent) but it could be still a throwback like Fromsoft loves doing!

I think maybe someone, at some point, believed that living forever was a better idea and might have "killed" Base Serpent and Eiglay both! As we know from Rykard's last words though, 'serpent never dies' and he probably was right!

^ Whereas Eiglay had to grow back from a tiny snake again, Base Serpent settled in Messmer's body being so tiny that it could curl behind his eye! Both needed to recover their former power, so whatever eventually slipped in the Abyss was free to persist, rot further and escape back into the living world given the chance!

+ bonus:

Trina ends up having a lot of petals and flowers as part of her body, not unlike Romina, whereas Miquella had insectoid wings at the moment of being kidnapped! The same trademarks of the 'stagnation' again!

I questioned whether it was just Crucible at first, since it also features flowers and wings! In the DLC we've learned that the Fell God himself was connected with the Crucible (Furnace Visage) and Radagon has his red hair due to the curse of his Fire Giants (Giant's Red Braid) 🤔 But.. crucibles are MANY things. It is also horns, spikes, feathered wings, scales, you name that! A LOT of aspects of organic life and not just these two! So I think the Crucible Curse is safe to stay within Morgott and Mohg, and this more likely refers to Miquella himself getting infected at some point! Whether it was having sucked Scarlet Rot out of Freya's wound, or napping in the Haligtree that was getting slowly scarlet-rotten, or both! Sure there are no traces of it left when he becomes a God, but Trina was discarded before that of course! Alternatively, he was a victim of stagnation himself due to not being able to age physically. He, himself, was a lot like Scarlet Buds that are "never to bloom". Endless child state of a body and buds that can't bloom are like eggs that can't hatch but will go terribly bad over time.. what is MORE stagnant?

Who is the God of Rot and why the pink color?

Another side of Romina is a tail of a scorpion, and the giant variant of Spider Scorpions is said to be the result of her actions! At the same time, God of Rot itself was scorpion-like!

I think this makes it... oddly coincidential, that God of Rot is a scorpion at least partially, whereas scorpions are native for the Shadow Realm AND were important animals for Belurat! Like I said before, Belurat strangely has no signs of Scarlet Rot for a place where Romina presumably created/unleashed it!

So, maybe rather than God of Rot already existing as is, it received a particular form in the 'outside' world! I'd say the same for Formless Mother, but her form is ABSENSE of form kind of fdhshdfs Maybe 'receiving the character' is a better way to describe it! Formless Blood, Scarlet Rot and most likely Deathblight didn't exist "outside" but developed from the shared source, and their gods (at least two of them) were born thanks to people! God of Rot might have manifested from a giant scorpion Romina took special care of, or a scorpion who got the 'divine' energy for another reason since giant variants are still not JUST in Rauh! Again, like how Formless Mother manifested in the shadow of a corpse of someone else! The Scarlet Rot became a thing thanks to Romina, developing within her over time!

Again, this is just my idea that Outer Gods are "born" in "our" world rather than simply exist as is, especially since 'outer' is just a type of gods meant to be discerned from Marika's family and who are like Lovecraftian mythos! I just think so because the scorpions connection is a bit too coincidential! It is not necessary!

Eiglay is a God-Devouring Serpent, not Demigod-Devouring Serpent, however, so I think in either case her purpose had more to do with not letting guys like this to ruin the world! Things just must die eventually, not endlessly exist via endless rot/rebirth cycle not allowing for any truly new life to sprout. It makes it double awesome that Base Serpent, and maybe even Eiglay herself, are connected with the fire element as fire itself is ALSO not just an evil force of destruction! It is meant to help the nature to "clean" so it doesn't rot; this power simply must be kept in check to not burn SO much that there is nothing left to be born from the ash and ruin *looks at Frenzied Flame*

Lesbian flag colors joke aside, it seems that color pink is a mark of lacking the master and/or the capacity to bloom! I do think that blooming is a thing only a Demigod is able to do! +remember that Millicent is a unique sprout of Malenia, carrying more of her signs as a Demigod than other girls!

Orange/red is the color of 'true' Scarlet Rot, and you could see even God of Rot itself was orange from Scorpion's Stinger look! It craves the buds that will bloom to grow stronger and increase, similarly to how Formless Mother craves wounds!

+ I also think that Bloodflame is the mark of more "perfect" form of the same concept similarly, as it becomes self-cleaning this way! It similarly could only be accomplished by getting a Demigod (Mohg) involved, whereas regular Bloodfiends are using just the blood itself! Then, Deathblight was not receiving the big roots as we could witness by Dancing Lion in Rauh, without getting a Demigod (Godwyn) involved! The cringe triplets........

________________________

So in the conclusion, Romina reached out for the 'twisted divinity' she witnessed somewhere in the middle of the ruin of everything she knew before, similarly to how Bloodfiends chose to revere the 'twisted deity' found in a corpse of their ancestor as they've lost everything! These two affinities have connotation with strong misery, and it is additionally confirmed by how Millicent can only bloom if she experiences the pain of betrayal! Some sinister power only appears within a lot of pain and death, but on itself it is just "flowers and wings", and a concrete God is born in the place it appears at, depending on the circumstances. It needs the miserable person as much as the miserable person needs it; a call is nothing without the receiver. Together, they define more specific purpose and affinity for it to continue existing and poisoning everything!

...not 100% sure that Deathblight is just as similar, because how do you birth death? Maybe it similarly came to be through the first person to die (Nito, you?????)

P.S.: I'll be damned if the water Dancer Fairy didn't originate from Rauh and simply freaked out upon seeing Romina telling the God of Rot "may you find your worth in the waking world" fsdhfhds

[bathtubbbbbbbbb]

Some predictions/speculations of varying grounds about Arcane season 2 that have been rattling around in my head for a while — I thought I’d share them just for fun & as sorta a bingo card cus at least some of ‘em surely will end up true in some way, shape, or form.

Sky or the Hexcore that absorbed Sky becomes Blitzcrank.

The Last Drop becomes a base of operations for the enforcers — Caitlyn will parallel Silco & Vi will parallel Jinx.

Caitlyn starts smoking.

We get a scene that parallels Mel’s flashback in season 1 where in Jinx takes the place of the Princess Ambessa kills, except Jinx is spared & there’s consequences.

Sevika & Viktor team up post Sevika teaming up with Jinx.

A scene with Viktor that parallels the “you don’t wanna threaten the guy that pours the drinks” scene, except “pours the drinks” is replaced with “fixes everyone’s mechanical & cybernetic augments” or something along those lines anyway — Huck makes a reappearance, Mel & Jayce play the roles of the 2 traders that didn’t honor their word.

Jayce & Viktor strangling scene parallel.

Some Little red Riding Hood vibes with Vi & Warwick — Jinx is going to be the Huntsman.

Some big parallels between Viktor & Caitlyn, & Silco.

Jayce is a lonely sad sack & his & Vi’s arks are going to parallel each other — I feel they’re gonna be ops at the start of the season but by the end of it be reluctant besties.

Caitlyn’s going to find Vi’s archived incident reports from Stillwater & see a photo of the guys face Vi caved in & really rethinks her “despite it all good heart”, I feel Jayce may be involved with this, maybe he’s the one that initially finds the files or goes looking for them then shows Cait — anyway angst will ensue.

The animation for Ekko’s time travel stuff is is gonna be absolutely awesome.

Ekko is gonna get kicked outta the firelights for simping over Jinx.

Heimerdinger in a Scooby Doo-esc way is revealed to be the narrative villain all along. Yippe!

Jinx’s punts Heimerdinger.

I guess Singed will probably be there being creepy — maybe his daughter is that robo ballerina chick from fnaf who knows.

Aaannd, that’s where I’m gonna end it.

{Edit cus I forgot a couple}

Vi is going to get a spinal injury & will get a back/torso brace similar to that of Viktor’s, reminiscent of the corset she wears in her league design.

After Vi is done being an emo pit fighter she’s gonna bleach her hair to get all the black dye out of it — if you look at her original concept design for LoL it looks like she has partially bleached hair.

Jinx & Vi’s mom is going to be revealed to have been a brothel worker.

Mel & Jinx are going to have opposite parallel arks — Jinx gains influence & power while Mel loses it, it’s revealed to the audience how actually naive & out of her depth Mel actually is while it’s concreted that Jinx is a genius & only bounces back stronger under pressure.

In act 1 a temporary trio is formed between Vi, Viktor & the big shield enforcer guy we see in the trailer that’s likely from the under-city — I feel visually they’re such a strong parallel to Vi, Mylo, & Claggor, & like personality wise too — I can see Vik having a secret lock picking skill, & shield dude gives gentle giant vibes (from like that 1 clip we see of him looking sympathetic over Caitlyn’s shoulder while she’s obviously going through some emotional turmoil).

[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.”

[katyspersonal]

A random thought about Rakshasa (NPC)

I was thinking about eyes color details again,

It is implied that her real eye color is/was blue, and green was something she gained! For example, Millicent's sisters likewise had real golden eyes and the clouding reflects loss of eyesight because of rot! Clouding also reflects blinding like with Igon's or Jerren's eyes for example, or with Esgar the blood takes over his actual eye color with red etc. If she was just green-eyed, why not simply pick the color green from the wheel, instead of achieving it through clouding?

(Screenshots from these ( x ) ( x ) videos) Green is a strange color in the setting, and yeah, the resemblance between Dancing Lion's eyes and Roderika's eye color is easy to catch! Then, Rakshasa gains different eye color and leaning much more into yellow made me think of how Godrick's rune changed and the other lion beasts!

Rakshasa is buried in the location that is heavily ever running waters; waterfalls and fast rivers! And whereas running water has been a place of practice for Dryleafs through forcing oneselves to jump against the waterfalls, it also has another connotation within the lore!

Okay well in fact 'stagnation of water' is a reoccurring trend in Fromsoft's games, always reflecting the resulting 'dregs' both in physical and spiritual sense! And, in a twisted way:

In isolation it would not mean much for me but just sign of devotion to one's goal, but now the context of "needing to remain always in movement, like the water, to not stagnate into a swamp" feels similar! In Elden Ring this shade of green, the one leaning more towards yellow, is also a color of poison - Scarlet Rot's "lesser" variant as both types are connected with stagnant water! Even in some location names, like how Rot dungeon in Liurnia is named Stillwater Cave!

Perhaps this particular Rakshasa has at some point stopped her quest that likewise demands to never stop, leading to her spiritual decay (regardless of what anyone thinks of this mission from moral standpoint x) ). It would tie nicely to how beastly lions have those yellow-ish eyes now and not colder green like Dancing Lions depiction, as they're severed from their divine ancestry and reduced to watchdogs! It could be similar with Godrick, who has been fixated on the distant idea not likely ever getting into his grasp, and who has been only accumulating more strength through endless grafting but not becoming stronger as that'd require battling and winning! (Though considering Godefroy had no Rune and was also doing grafting, it is likely generational stagnation rather than his own!) Maybe I am looking too deep into it, but spiritually stagnating seems to be significant. It would give burial of Rakshasa where water is always flowing a poetic meaning, as if honouring her with always drifting essence at least in death!

In other words,

[thistoowillpasss]

I went back to stillwater cave because I always forget it's in the game, and while being sneaky I noticed the two big mirandas in one of the rooms were, um, well, 😳🌼🌼

[arcanemoxhi]

Prison Trauma ⛓️

✨//Vi x Fem Reader//✨ 💕

Warning ⚠️: Sfw, mentions of NsFw, prison, trauma, brutal prison beatings, angst, near-death experiences

A/N: Sorry for the lack of stories, I was trying to make more ideas ☺️💡

✨//Imagine//✨

There were adjusting the rooms inside Stillwater and decided to put the only two women in the prison in the same cell. You two were so scared to even interact because of the threatening environment. Sooner or later, you two began to warm up with each other and even began to defend each other from the endless beatings inside the cell. You two finally are comfortable enough to sit next to each other and confess each other's name. "I'm Vi, what about you?" ... "My name is (Y/N)". You two shared, making the atmosphere feel a bit better. You two shared warmth to combat the cold floor, you two shared food, you two worked out together in prison. You two were a unit, a unit that had the prison fearful. Both of you were the scariest power team in this prison. You were a bit more braver along with Vi protecting you, and vice versa. One day, as Vi is practicing her punches against the brick wall, you noticed a enforcer woman walk over. She stood tall with dark blue hair and expensive looking clothes. The first thought you had was how lucky she was, to be born in a better situation. She talked to Vi as Vi circled the jail. You watched as eventually she is bailed out by the woman. Vi wanted to plead for you to come with, but the blue haired woman denied and kept it moving. Vi gripped the bars from the outside looking in on you, terrified and shaking. You run over and grab her hands as well, "D-Don't leave me..." You whimpered at the woman who kept you sane and brave this entire time. "I'll come back for you, I'll free you I promise." Vi kissed your hands for the first time. She begins to release your cold hands and walk off with the blue haired enforcer. You cry at the bars, and eventually a prison guard comes around to beat you out of your uncontrollable crying.

Perhaps a week later, you were cold in the middle of the prison cell, shivering and twitching as the moon rays showed your bruised body. "(Y/N)," you turned around from your pain almost immediately. Your pink hair warrior was standing there with joyful tears in her eyes. The jail cell opens, Vi opens her muscular arms out to you. "I told you I was coming back, I'm not leaving you back here." Vi smiles with tears streaming, knowing that your okay. You sprint over to her, almost pouncing on her crying profusely. Vi holds you as she stares at the blue haired woman past your shoulders. She thanks her with her eyes as she carries you out of here.

Ever since then, Vi has been your protector and you two, with the help of her blue haired woman. Her name was Caitlyn, and she helped Vi get an apartment and clothes and food to spare. Vi got a job with Caitlyn and you stayed home, which you didn't mind, but it did remind you of prison at times. You two eventually confessed each other's feelings and became one.

Vi would...

Whenever Vi got home, she made sure to shower you in kisses and cuddles.

"Babe, I'm home!" As she hugs you tightly. Whenever she hugs you, you always get that warm feeling you got when she came back for you.

She made sure you were comfortable and if you needed anything, she was there and she got for you. You two cuddle until you two wanted to eat or go to bed. Anytime was cuddle time.

You and Vi would eat like wild cave woman who hasn't eat in years. Anything was better than that prison food and you two constantly made jokes about it.

You two bonded over the years and any trauma you two shared, you could rightfully laugh about some dumb crap that happened.

After dinner, Vi and you would work together to clean up the kitchen and dinner table. You two enjoyed working as a unit.

When it's bedtime, Vi got a weighted blanket. She always makes sure you are warm under the blankets.

When you two get in bed, Vi always lays on her back so you can curl into her chest and arms. She makes sure you are warm and you comfy.

When you lay on your side, her chest is against your back as you sleep. It reminds you that she's still here and she isn't going anywhere.

When you have nightmares, you flinch and twitch as you wake. You even tend to wake up with arms swinging. Vi would catch you and holds your arms down.

"shh, shh, baby. Baby, you need to wake up. I'm right here, shh, it's okay. It's okay. It's not real, it's only a dream. You're safe." Vi rocks you to calm you from your feisty nightmares.

You're sobbing when you finally wake, Vi knows your traumatized without her and sometimes she cries with you. She sometimes blames herself, but you hugging her tightly helps her think otherwise.

You're crying is calmed when you lay into Vi's arms and chest. You often listen to her heartneat.

Vi loves to carry you around. She always wanted to bench press you and carry you around like the princess she saw in her eyes.

She would want to give you everything that you two didn't get to experience, like a proper date or an adventure.

You would do some side gigs around the lanes and got paid for them so you could spoil Vi occasionally as well.

Vi would protest, but it would be too late as you already paid and Vi had to enjoy the experience, which she did.

You two always found thrill in racing each other around the lanes, it's gives you freedom and especially the ability to beat down any asshole you guys saw. It was truly freedom for you both.

At the end of the parkcour, Vi always checked on you for any scratches and if you had any, she would take you two to her favorite spot to see the entire city as she healed you up.

Sometimes you two just cuddle up and sometimes make out up there.

Vi would tease you to death about making you moan so loud that the city would wake up to watch. You would freakout at that thought. Vi adores your cute shy face

If NSFW activities did occur, no matter the place, vi would always reassure you how much she loves you and she's not going anywhere. Perfect after care.

Sometimes when she comes back from work, she's bloody and bruised. You wouldn't mind cleaning her up, but you always begged her to be more careful.

One night, she didn't come home and you got a call from Caitlyn about Vi. You never ran so fast to Piltover in your life.

Vi wasn't careful and she was brutally beaten and bloody. Luckily, she was stable and will be okay, but you pushed nurses and even Caitlyn away as you fell to Vi's side of the hospital bed. You cried profusely mumbling, "pls, please, please... No you can't, you promised you wouldn't leave me.."

It's been hours in the hospital. Caitlyn has left hours ago, while u watched Vi's vital stay stable the entire time. You're so afraid of watching it drop.

You couldn't close your eyes until you heard her. Your eyes are dried, but anytime you thought of Vi dying made you cry more.

Eventually, you feel Vi's hand touches yours as her eyes shoot open. She looks around to see you with tears in your eyes. "Vi... Vi!!! Nurse, she's awake!!!"

Vi smiles at you, "Baby... Baby, im--"

"shut up, you don't get to say shit to me!!! I could've lost you!! What were you thinking?!" Your tears are streaming faster as Vi begins to cry now. She didn't mean for you to freak out like this. You quickly come over and kiss her deeply, wiping her tears. Vi wraps her wounded arms around your face. "I'm so sorry, baby. It wasn't suppose to happen like this..."

Vi cried a bit, she didn't want to hurt you or scare you, but the mission definitely went wrong. You didn't care, nor were you angry anymore. You just cared that Vi was alive and breathing and speaking to you.

After Vi recovers after a week, you would check up on her constantly. She wasn't allowed back onto the field until her entire body was healed, so you made sure of that by bringing her lunch.

You would walk home with Vi at the end of the day and was ready to kick anyone's ass who tried to hurt Vi.

Vi always thought you were so damn adorable protecting her, but she was proud of you kicking ass.

Whenever Vi tried to do something, you took it out her hands and took over. Vi sometimes got annoyed, but she was gonna have to deal with it. She couldn't argue with you even if she wanted.

A/N: Merry Christmas Eve, everyone! I'm making a Christmas story soon, it's gonna be cute!🥰

[miquella-everywhere]

Miquella Hunt Part 2: Limgrave

So this is where we get into the meat of this Miquella hunt; I've marked on the map where I found Lilys, or any other relation to Miquella with colored markers and numbered labels!

1. A St. Trina's Lily is right beneath the spirit guiding statue that leads to the Stormfront Catacombs (on an entirely separate note, I believe these statues are called Rosus because later on you can get the Rosus’ Axe which looks strikingly similar to the statues. I could be wrong tho lol)

2. At Agheel Lake in the Dragon-Burnt Ruins.

3. This one is on the cliff just below the sight of grace right next to a sleeping Warg which is really cute lol But I can't help but wonder if this was one of the locations where you could collect Dream Mist, before it was ultimately cut from the game?

4. These St. Trina's Lilys can be found on a cliff just below the Hound Evergaol overlooking the Weeping Peninsula

5. Once again, in the same location but a little to the left lol

6. Found overlooking the field before Fort Haight, and after the shooting star hits the earth when Radahn is defeated.

7. At the Mistwood Ruins where you meet Blaidd you can find 5 St. Trina's Lily’s here along with a sleeping runebear. You can also find the Axe Talisman depicting Godfrey in the underground chamber

8. On the cliff below the path to Caelid guarded by more sleeping wolves/wargs. I’ve noticed that these guys really like taking naps/guarding the St. Trina’s Lily’s 🤔

9. These ones are tucked away in the ravine before the Fourth Church of Marika and are guarded by a Runebear. The waterfall from above is actually coming from Stillwater Village.

10. Hidden amongst the graves in the back of Stillwater Village.

11. Nestled beneath the fallen ruins right before you reach Stillwater Village. These guys are not happy that I’m near this Lily lol protective godwyn mayhaps????🤔

12. This Lily has an excellent view of the Divine Tower lol

13. Now these two areas are interesting: These St. Trina's Lilys are in the ravine that leads to the Highroad Cave where you pick up the Blue Dancer charm that depicts Malenia’s sword master! Makes me wonder if Miquella ever met them? 🤔

14. On Stormhill next to a pond. Not pictured the Land Octopus that I killed lol

15. Located right next to this giant-ass hole at the front of Stormveil.

16. If you go through the front gate of Stormveil and make your way past all the enemies and ballistas, you'll find the Lily's in the order of the pictures from left-to-right. Although the middle St. Trina's Lily's, next to the tree, are a little more complicated to get to, they are on top of the cliff where the ballistas fire at you as you make your way up the steps to the courtyard.

Interestingly enough, even though there are so many St. Trina's Lily's in Limgrave, there isn’t a single Miquella’s Lily anywhere to be found. My mutual made a joke that Godrick ripped out all of the Miquella’s Lilys cause he’s petty and insecure, which is both on brand and fucking hilarious 😂

[bri-the-nautilus]

Hi there! I saw your reply to that ask about Malenia being a milf, really enjoyed reading it all (it was all just right!). Especially a passage on Gowry. Do you have more detailed headcanons/theories on him? Can you share them?

It's just that he plays an important role in my own postcanon story, being sort of a rematching villain. So I'm always open on any info on him and the Rot in general, even others' headcanons. Do you think there could be other humans worshipping the Rot? (not just kindreds/pests).

I meself stick to the theory of him being a Carian sorcerer who's studied the Rot and went too far (then even farther to turn back).

Thank you!

(editing this in at the end. This got LONG. I dug up so much stuff as I was compiling my thoughts, and this post took quite a turn. Thanks for getting me thinking, and I apologize for how ungodly long this post is. This was fun!)

Gowry is an interesting one. He doesn't talk much about himself, and his adopted daughters don't really like to talk about him either for obvious reasons. And as far as sane residents of Caelid to converse with go, it's really just him and the girls, a few merchants, Maliketh, and Jerren. Not exactly a wealth of lore.

Let's start with his armor set. Gowry wears the Sage Set, which can be found in Liurnia's Stillwater Cave. It's worth noting that this cave is home to several Rot-themed enemies, including mushroom priests and a Cleanrot Knight. From the description of the Sage Armor:

Thick burgundy robe. Attire of the wise sages who were deemed heretical. Evidence that the wearer was driven from town.

This is interesting. It's also worth noting that Gowry isn't the only character who wears this armor. Necromancer Garris, the boss of the Sage's Cave, also wears pieces of the set. Their faces are also quite similar. There could be a connection here, but we're getting sidetracked.

So the Sages were driven from a town. The question is, which town? The answer is of course Sellia, Town of Sorcery. Gowry lives just outside the city walls. For confirmation, we need only look at his inventory. Gowry sells Night Shard and Nightmaiden's Mist, whose descriptions both say that they were invented in Sellia. The third spell he sells is Glintstone Stars, which is a Raya Lucaria sorcery, but its description also says that it's a spell of the Olivinus Conspectus, "which attracts sorcerers from Sellia."

So Gowry lived in Sellia as a sage, where he learned the town's signature brand of magic. Then he was kicked out for heresy, per the Sage Armor's description. The next question we have to ask is, what heresy did he commit? Let's take a step back and examine Liurnian orthodoxy. Astrological worship is the basis for all of Liurnia's science and religion. The Academy worships the stars, while the House of Caria and Lazuli Conspectus worship the moon as well. The description of the Lazuli Robe calls this star-moon worship heresy. I don't think what Gowry did was heresy in the Liurnian sense of the word, however. Sellia is a town descended from the Nox and heavily associated with the Olivinus Conspectus. The Nox were star worshippers, and the Olivinus are an orthodox Conspectus with a focus on meteors. If Gowry grew up here, the odds of him converting to moon worship are slim.

Rot worship is a possibility. The only real evidence of pre-Shattering Rot worship is House Marais, who clandestinely worshipped the Outer God of Rot in their castle. The Haligtree venerated Malenia, but didn't worship the Rot because Malenia herself suffered at its hands and would like nothing more than to be rid of it. Rot worship doesn't go mainstream until after Aeonia when an entire civilization of shrimp cultists crawls out of the nuclear swamp and decides Malenia is their goddess. So while Gowry worshipping the Scarlet Rot in prewar Sellia would be kind of heretical, it would also be a really weird thing for anyone to be into given the time and place. Also, notice that the Rot is only ever worshipped by people actively suffering from it. "The sons of House Marais are all sickly born" (probably because they decided to build on top of a poison swamp), and the mushroom priests and shrimpbros speak for themselves. It would be very odd indeed for a healthy Sellian man in a lush, unblighted Caelid to suddenly say "hey screw the stars, we worship super skin necrosis now." You know what I think he did?

Necromancy.

Oh yeah, you thought we were done with Gary.

So let's talk about our friend Necromancer Garris for a second. While it's not in his name like it is for Gowry, Garris is almost definitely a Sellian sage. He looks like Gowry, he wears the requisite robes, and the cave where he lives is called the "Sage's Cave." Unless the Black Knife lurking nearby has some scholarly qualifications we don't know about, the Sage in question has to be Garris. Now what exactly is his deal? What can we learn about heresy from this guy?

Garris is a necromancer. He summons bone snails in battle and uses the Prince of Death staff to cast a spell similar to Rancorcall, whose description claims that it's an ancient death hex presumed lost to the annals of history until Garris rediscovered it. Most interesting, however, is his weapon. Garris wields the unique flail Family Heads.

Three bludgeoning copper heads attached to a handle by chains. Signature weapon of Necromancer Garris, the heretical sage. The heads were made to resemble those of his wife and two children.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

Here we have confirmation that Garris is not only a Sage, but a heretical one. Much like good old Gowry. A wife and children, you say? Let's take a look at the weapon's unique Ash of War: Familial Rancor. This ash behaves similarly to Rancorcall, the spell that Garris rediscovered and uses. And its description?

Gently rattle the copper heads to summon vengeful spirits that chase down foes. The anguish of a spouse and children invites accursed wrath.

Alrighty. It's the classic story of a magician and his dead family. This is just Fullmetal Alchemist now. We don't really have the evidence to say one way or another what happened here. Did Garris lose his family and resort to necromancy to try to get them back? Or is the "wrath" and "anguish" of his family a result of him using them as human sacrifices or guinea pigs in his experiments with the dark arts? But enough of that.

The trouble we were having with Gowry is that we couldn't pin down what he was doing that would have gotten him banished from Sellia. Sellia, per the Night Shard description, is a town of assassins that habitually kill other sorcerers. You'd have to do something nuts to get kicked out of a place like that, and we just didn't have anything that points towards a sensical explanation for Gowry's heresy. This is where Garris saves us. We know he was also a Sage who got kicked out of Sellia for being a heretic, but unlike Gowry, we know EXACTLY what Garris was doing. And now let's look back at Sellian theological law and try to apply it to necromancy.

Of course necromancy is heretical! The Lands Between broadly speaking venerates the dead. Dead people are buried at the roots of the Erdtree to return to its grace. The burial watchdogs are statues built to watch over these dead, and while the Erdtree is a Golden Order concept, the fact that some watchdogs use glintstone attacks implies that the Liurnians also build them. Liurnia does have its own Erdtree burial catacombs, despite not worshipping the Erdtree or any other Golden Order figures as deities. We know from Fia and Lionel that people in the Lands Between see the Deathbed Companions as disgusting heretics. What do Deathbed Companions do? Raise the dead. Necromancy seems like an amazing way to get yourself kicked out of just about any dignified society in the Lands Between.

And when we look at Gowry through the lens of necromancy... things start to add up.

If you try to kill Gowry, he turns into a Kindred of Rot on death and his disembodied voice casually mentions that he can keep coming back. Upon reloading the shack, Gowry's there again. You can repeat this ad infinitum until reaching the end of his and Millicent's questline. He doesn't stay dead.

Hmm.

We can't really say for sure what Garris was doing with his necromancy outside of the fact that he was researching ancient hexes. Gowry, on the other hand...

Here's my theory. Gowry, either together with Garris or on his own, starts researching methods of achieving life after death. When what he's doing comes to light, he gets banished from Sellia, but his work is far enough along that he can finish it alone without the resources of a town of sorcery. But as an outcast, there's not much he can really do with that.

Enter Malenia.

Malenia's bloom is said to have been awe-inspiring and divine. We can find ghosts who witnessed Aeonia ranting about the divine splendor.

Sublime, I tell you. The very first flower of Aeonia bloomed on this very spot. Malenia, may you blossom into a goddess.

For Gowry, who is by now thoroughly disillusioned with the Sellian orthodoxy that kicked him to the curb for being a necromancer, the Rot may well have been a religious experience. Especially when the necrotic death bomb starts creating life.

Life from death. The goal of every necromancer.

And oh boy does Caelid have it.

Gowry has found a Goddess who he thinks can create life from death. He has an entire cult worth of shrimp people who also worship her, and who he can manipulate as he pleases with his superior intellect. And best of all, he has Malenia's daughters, who he can raise into Goddesses of Rot themselves.

Gowry is of course just a man. An old man whose condo is six feet away from Ground Zero for the Aeonian Bloom. His body is dying as he experiences all this wonder and finds the infant buds amidst the fallout of the Bloom. But for a Necromancer, who has cracked the code, this is no trouble. Even as his body gives out, Gowry's spirit possesses a lowly Kindred of Rot, projecting an illusion of his human form. As a Kindred, he can survive indefinitely in rotting Caelid. As an illusory human, he can deal with outsiders and raise Malenia's daughters. If his Kindred is slain... no matter. There's more where that came from.

[arx-aru]

as a  🌷 general observation  🌷 to draw any number of theories from:

the player's (probable)first Cleanrot Knight encounter, the boss in Stillwater Cave, is notably hanging out downstream of a bunch of poisonous Miranda flowers.

which are being cultivated (alongside medicinal mosses and mushrooms) by Servants of Rot

and while significantly outnumbered, the Cleanrot Knight here is in gameplay much more powerful than the Servants, and is specifically a spear variant(i.e., the one suited specifically to crowd control and independent combat). So it is possible to assume the knight is not trapped by the servants, but willfully hanging out at the bottom of their yucky poison farm pool.

additionally, it appears to be an established camp as there are supplies littered about and signs of battle from at least a bit ago.

what I personally infer from this dungeon is:

Some of the Servants of Rot follow the direction of Cleanrot Knights (which would make sense; to them, the Knights are essentially angelic disciples of their Goddess. regardless of how the Knights view themselves)

Cleanrot Knights make use of regular poison. Since their attacks only involve scarlet rot, and their items imply a certain age to them, that may quite directly confirm they use more "tame" poisons to treat their rot. Like chemotherapy, I guess, or a pretty hardcore antibiotic.

The Servants of Rot seem to have some familiarity with the cultivation of regular poisons and various mosses, as well as medicinal applications thereof. Perhaps meaning they were into shrooms well before upgrading to rot, or--more likely I think--many of them used to be the infantry portion of Malenia's army, sworn themselves to her direct vassals, the Cleanrot Knights. After all, real knights could not and did not form the entirety or indeed the main body of any army; rather, they predominantly acted as lieges with their own cohorts of squires, yeomen, and levies. Although I do doubt FromSoft intended Cleanrot Knights to be anything akin to a subsection of the landed noble class a la historical mid/late-medieval knights.

[acreaturecalledgreed]

so i dont have names for any of the daemons yet because i hate name daemons so fucking much they come with names when they manifest and theyre always either whimsical nonsense or something incredibly significant and meaningful and its just bark bark bark its hard

anyway

daemon au so far

silco- lemon shark- shes a lot softer than he is in disposition but shes also considerably More aloof and is the kind of daemon that outright does not speak to anyone except her human. part of the reason silco survived the drowning attempt, she panicked and commited That Taboo and bit the shit out of vander’s arm. as mentioned in another post sil is technically a witch as hes had to force his tie with his daemon to stretch over a long distance in order for him to be inland like, at all. he was stuck around the shores for the first couple years after she settled, though.

jinx- mandril- very lighthearted and friendly, seemingly never bothered by anything or treating anything seriously which is alarming when paired with his tendency for extreme violence, and, more alarmingly, he touches human beings other than jinx. jinx seems to see no problem with this. this makes everyone deeply uncomfortable and even silco, who is by far most used to it, reacts with unease. 

vi- tasmanian devil- i was torn on this b/c my first instinct was a badger but theres a kind of homeyness to badgers that i think vi was denied. its likely that had she grown up in happier situations he’d have settled as a badger, or maybe some other stocky, sturdy but soft animal. as it is though, her daemon settled while she was locked in a cell at stillwater. the softness was burned way and a kind of solitary anger built up in its place. vi is still a loving person, but her daemon really shows the isolation she was put through. hes also a mean little cunt.

caitlyn- light mantled albatross- one of the smaller albatrosses, i really just like the symbolism behind them and i think theyre rather sweet and it suits her. theres also a nice, quiet sort of regality to them while also being a seabird and needing that innate toughness. she’s a little more open than caitlyn, which is impressive given cait doesnt exactly hesitate to speak her mind. shows she’s displeased with someone or something by stealing small items and putting them in strange places.

vander- wolfdog- i caved. its the easy answer but it just works, and theres no shame in being straightforward. she’s not very different from him in dispositon; they’re basically personality twins, which belays a sort of openess thats almost impressive. its always unsettling when she suddenly decides to clam up and close off, though. seems to bode bad things to come.

ekko- tree pangolin- went back and forth on this one b/c i know he’s associated with owls but i just don’t like going for the most obvious choice. shes grown into something defensive after his loss of benzo, vander and family. she’s not shut off from being inquisitive, however, and she’s often clamboring all over things to keep an eye out. her scales are multicoloured with various chalks, something she takes great joy in. 

still working on others

[tarnussy]

Thanks to @blaiddfailcam 's map alignment posts I've been paying more attention to them, and interesting, but the cleanrot knight boss in the Liurnia Stillwater cave is right below Godrick's boss arena.

Mildly interesting or whatever. Presumably the knight got stuck down there when Malenia was on her way to Caelid because the entrance of the cave is in Liurnia, but still, I'd like to think it is a nod to Godrick and her (& her army) crossing paths. Or not.

[rejectory]

@petitsdieu *

Underneath? And?

There is only above as he slips, an oil stain, the stillwater. The stream comes and goes on a windchime drip ringing the height of the cave.

Four days were enough for tending to his not-wife and Salusa Secundus’s upset both and little else.

Not for spice import.

Stripped and awash, Paul’s only a body touched in the way of the Old Lakes’ baptism. He’s birth-fresh. His palms are the darkest points on him. He hasn’t seen his toes, or this much drench, in months.

Gurney is in the process of starving Luras and keeping the rest fed to a grazing; enough for sober thought. Enough to keep their hair but suck off the fat. Hunger increases receptiveness to all manner of knowledge and one’s lack thereof; to, most importantly, long-term memory.

It makes honest mouths of liars. Before Paul reaches into the berry bowl of Luras’s skull, it should soften.

❝Your people think me mad. A fanatic.❞

He’s ripe with all that he’s glimpsed there already.

Paul is here, not there. Princess Hara is here, pretending by the entry she’s one of the mice.

❝What d’you think?❞

[valhikes]

Stillwater Field Office BLM, Nevada

Back to US-50, I completed the circle through Nevada with one last little hike joining a pair of interpretive trails outside Fallon. The first interpretive trail showcases the 8000 year old petroglyphs of the area. The second showcases the geology including the tufa with its human connections.