getting these nearly instantaneously was so funny. sorry it took me a month for the fill 😬
this might go up on ao3 eventually, i think i should start compiling some stuff in a oneshot collection. OH BTW shout out to @lucidrush for glancing over this one for me :)
title: throw hands
fandom: arcane
wordcount: 1.9k
-
Vi’s moving without thinking, legs pumping, left hand disengaging its gauntlet, dimly registering the puff of steam as the hextech powered machinery grinds to a halt. It goes from a pulsing, seamless part of her to a hunk of dead metal in an instant, slipping down her wrist even as she moves to catch it with her other still-gauntleted hand. It happens in a blink, a breath and a half, she’s closing the distance as fast as she can because she’s only got one shot at this, eyes locked on the gunman on the terrace across from her, heart pounding in her chest, as she watches him draw on Caitlyn, bracing the butt of his rifle against his chest, squeezing one eye shut, sighting down on her and she won’t get there in time, she can’t run fast enough but she can try, she can—
If she stops to think, she might realize what a stupid, ridiculous thing she’s about to try. She might psych herself out. She might hesitate. She might fuck it up.
So Vi doesn’t stop and think — she sees the gunman’s shoulders relax just slightly, sees the way his finger starts to slip past the trigger guard, and she jerks herself to a stop, hoping she’s close enough, letting the left gauntlet slip down the grip of her right so she’s grasping it by the fingers, like she’s giving herself a handshake, then she winds back with her right arm and—
—Fucking sends it.
Everything she’s got — all of her fear and her hope and her wild, desperate love goes into the throw, the gauntlet sailing across the gap between the ledge she’s on and where he’s perched trying to blow away the most beautiful thing Vi’s ever kept alive.
And she fucking nails him.
The dense metal fist slams into the guy, knocking him off his feet, even as the rifle goes off. Vi feels her stomach lurch sickeningly into her chest, but she hears the shattering of glass that tells her the shot went wide.
Caitlyn’s been futilely grappling with some juiced up shimmer freak in the courtyard, unaware of the threat from above, but the gunshot distracts them both. Vi watches as both of them hesitate, Caitlyn glancing up, piercing blue eye analyzing the scene in a moment; flicking from the broken window, to the terrace where the gunman Vi had hit is still flattened, to Vi’s stricken face on the opposite ledge.
“Cait!” Vi screams, warning her, because the hulking goon looming over her has recovered himself, is charging again, trying to close the distance between them, trying to break Vi’s life into shards with his big ugly hands and Vi is too useless, too far away, to do anything but scream.
And then Caitlyn is pivoting on her heel, using the momentum to launch herself backwards, lining up a shot while the shimmer freak runs her down, barreling straight into the path of the bullet she sinks between his eyes. The crack of the rifle, even from this far away, rattles in Vi’s chest. She watches with horror as the freak keeps coming, even with half of his skull a pulpy spray steaming on the pavement behind him. But he only makes it two steps, three, four before he collapses forward, slumping into a twisted heap at Caitlyn’s feet.
Those were the last two. Vi’s on the move even before the body’s done twitching, vaulting over the ledge she’d been stuck on, leaping and scrambling up the side of the terrace where the gunman had been, needing to make sure he was really out of the fight. One glance at the dent in his skull, his unnaturally splayed legs, the smear of gore on her battered gauntlet is all Vi needs to confirm that he’s not going to be a threat to anyone ever again. She doesn’t even pause to retrieve her weapon, just turns, plants her heel on the edge of the balcony and springboards off of it, landing in a rolling crouch that sends a dull shock of pain across her shoulders, through her ribs. She’s pretty sure she cracked one, earlier in the initial ambush, or else bruised it pretty bad. She knows she’ll feel it later, but for now, the adrenaline pumping through her body is doing its job, keeping her alive, keeping her going, getting her to Caitlyn.
“Cait!” Vi calls again, closing the distance between them in great, desperate bounds. “Cait!”
“Vi,” Caitlyn’s voice is a ragged wheeze. Up close, Vi can see the livid red finger marks across her beautiful throat and she thinks if Caitlyn hadn’t already blown the brains out of the back of that animal’s skull, she would have liked to do it herself. “Vi,” Caitlyn’s voice, a little stronger now, brings her back to herself, “are you hurt?”
Here she is, windpipe bruised to shit, knuckles scraped and bleeding, a trickle of blood running down her cheek from a cut at her hairline, eye blinking furiously at the stinging sweat dripping down into it from her exertion, and all of Caitlyn’s considerable focus is singularly locked on Vi, her gaze flicking over Vi’s face, down her body, searching for wounds, for problems she can solve.
Vi lets her remaining gauntlet drop to the ground with a metallic clank, right hand sweaty and aching from the tight grip she’d had her fists clenched into. She crosses the last distance between them, sees Caitlyn’s eye flashes wide in surprise for a moment before Vi takes Caitlyn’s face in between her hands and pulls her down for a kiss.
Caitlyn’s mouth tastes like blood. She parts her lips for Vi easily, pliantly, not resisting even a little when Vi surges up and uses her grip on Caitlyn’s face to tip her head, flicking her tongue out, gliding over Caitlyn’s teeth — all there, none missing. No trips to the emergency dentist after this, at least. The blood seems to be coming from the inside of Caitlyn’s cheek, cut on her own teeth when she’d taken a blow to the face, or bitten when she’d been choked or—or something. It’s minor. Vi lets herself relax, parting their lips just enough to draw in a sip of breath, to swallow briefly — saliva, hers and Caitlyn’s. Blood — Caitlyn’s.
The second kiss is slower, less desperate. Vi doesn’t register that she’s melted forward into Caitlyn until she suddenly realizes she’s got both feet planted flat on the ground again, that Caitlyn’s arms are wound around her, one splayed between her shoulderblades pressing them tighter together, the other snared in the sweaty hair at the back of Vi’s head, holding just tight enough to sting a little. Her own arms have become encircled around Caitlyn’s neck, locking her in place.
The power has shifted, too — less Caitlyn reassuring her, indulging her by placidly yielding to Vi’s anxious, demanding attention more of the intoxicating push-and-pull that’s always throbbed at the core of this thing between them. Caitlyn hums into the kiss just softly, she licks her own blood from the roof of Vi’s mouth, she nips at Vi’s lips, and she does it all so slowly, so methodically, so deliberately Vi thinks she might sink to the floor if Caitlyn wasn’t holding her so tightly upright.
Vi kisses her and kisses her, slanting their mouths together, rolling her body into Caitlyn’s, keening low in her own throat as she feels Caitlyn’s chest heave, sucking the breath out of Caitlyn’s mouth and down her own throat. Vi digs her blunt nails into the skin at the back of Caitlyn’s neck, scrapes hard enough to feel her breath hitch, to make Caitlyn gasp into the kiss and she thinks she’s alive, oh thank fuck, she’s alive, she’s alive.
Finally, lungs aching, lips swollen, Vi drags her mouth away from Caitlyn’s, burying her face in the side of her tender, bruised neck instead. She feels Caitlyn pant into her hair for a moment, before a shower of quick, hungry kisses falls across the side of her head, then her face. “You’re not hurt,” Caitlyn says again, less a question now than when she’d first uttered the words. “You’re okay.”
Still, Vi nods against her, knowing without having to be told that Caitlyn needs to hear her say it. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Me too,” Caitlyn offers, a little dumbly, a little unnecessarily and Vi can’t help the sputter of laughter it elicits in her — knowing her piltie had stayed sharp going who knows how many rounds with a bulked out shimmer-boosted maniac trying to cave her skull in and kept her head through all of it, but had let herself get kissed stupid by Vi in two minutes flat. “What?” she rasps, probably about as dignified as one can sound half breathless and with a slightly crushed windpipe — which is to say, not very, but Vi loves her for trying.
Vi just shakes her head, tilting her face to press a tender, gentle kiss to Caitlyn’s bruised throat, wondering if she can feel Vi’s smile there against her skin. “Don’t worry about it.”
“‘Don’t worry about it’ means you’re taking the piss,” Caitlyn grumbles good-naturedly. “You know, I— wait.”
“What is it?” Vi asks, moving to step back, stopped by Caitlyn’s hand pressed into the small of her back, holding her close.
Despite this, Caitlyn leans back a little to catch Vi’s gaze. “What happened to your other gauntlet?”
“Oh, that,” Vi says, grinning. “It’s, uh, up there.”
Caitlyn’s gaze drags from Vi’s right gauntlet a few feet behind them, to the raised terrace Vi gestures at. She raises one eyebrow, exasperation and fondness clinging to her voice as she asks, “And how exactly did that happen?”
“Crazy story, actually,” Vi says, because really, it is. Now that it’s all over, she still can’t believe she’d made that shot. She shifts in place, wrapping an arm around Caitlyn’s waist — it’s instant, the way Caitlyn’s arm drapes over her shoulders in response, shifting her weight to lean into Vi. “Let’s go get ‘em back and I’ll tell you all about the effortlessly cool way I saved your life on the way back to the station, Cupcake.”
“”Effortlessly cool?’” Caitlyn quotes dubiously, pausing to stow her rifle behind her back.
“Yeah,” Vi nods, hip-checking her lightly. “You know how I am in a crisis.”
Caitlyn laughs so hard it makes her gag, sagging into Vi’s shoulder and sputtering out a few weak coughs. She rubs her throat gingerly and says, “Ah, don’t make me do that. My throat is killing me.”
“Serves you right,” Vi mutters, grinning when Caitlyn’s hand sneaks out to pinch her side in retort. They’ve made it to the first gauntlet. Vi leans down to slip her hand into it, powering it on. “Right.” They keep walking, Caitlyn shortening her stride to match Vi. “So, there you were: totally and completely helpless—”
“I think I’d argue with ‘totally’. And ‘completely.’”
“You’d argue with a brick wall. And, anyway, who’s telling this story, me or you?”
“Right. Of course. Go on.”
“Thank you. So, like I said, you were basically a sitting duck…”
It’s a long walk back to Topside and before she knows it, Vi’s whole body feels like one big bruise.
.
NEVER be afraid to send yourself the prompt you wanted desperately to fill
~~REUNION SPOILERS~~
(mostly safield, but some fayypricefield vibes)
ALSO can be read over at ao3
.
Safi was shaking, and Max hated that she’s the cause of it. But there’s a fire that’s going to destroy her home, and Chloe’s back and they’re… something.
“You saw her, and forgot all about me.”
It wasn’t true. It was completely true. She loved Chloe. She always loved her. She couldn’t stop loving her. She didn’t want to.
She loved Safi too.
“Please, you’re my best friend. You said you would wait for me. Don’t leave me alone.”
And Max opened her mouth, and she didn’t know what to say.
Safi’s brown eyes were cold, but not cruel. They were wide in fear and dark with want. She was poetry in a person’s body. Her eyes trailed over Max, as though convincing herself she wasn’t too late. She could convince her to leave.
“I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good.” Safi’s voice was raspy and out of breath. She stepped closer to Max, hesitating. Max felt her hand twitch at her side, touching the thread of time, and saw Safi’s eyes draw down towards it.
“No, please, just…” Safi surged forward, her arms wrapping around Max. She wanted her so much. Her head buried into Max’s neck, nose feeling the thump of her pulse.
“Please, don’t.” Safi said, and Max was still in her arms. Why won’t she hug her back? Safi rubbed at Max’s shoulder with one hand, her back with the other.
“You believed in me when no one else had my back,” Safi pushed on, “You told me to go up on that stage as myself, to let people hear the truth from me, and they did. You helped rebuild me.”
She pulled back, and Max had a wetness to her eyes. She was lifting her arms up now though, catching Safi at her elbows.
“You didn’t tell my mom you saw me that day. You could’ve. I would’ve been mad at you but… you could’ve. You didn’t.”
Max’s eyes were so soft.
“Safi…” Max said her name like she meant everything. Even now, all these months later, Safi could still hear the grief in her voice, could hear the mourning Max went through when she had been dead.
“You told me how your mom managed you all your life. You’re not a project, you’re a person. And,” Max’s voice grew rougher, like she would start crying, “You deserve to be heard. Maya deserved to be heard. I just… gave you a nudge.”
“Please, come with me.” Safi asked again. With Chloe, with Diamond, with Moses. She would take them all. She just needed… Safi took a breath.
Max took a shaky breath with her. Her lips quivered.
“This is my home, Safi. I can’t—”
It was easy, too easy, and terrifying, to kiss Max Caulfield. Who told her about the fire, even with suspecting her. Who suspected her, yet still protected her. Who saved her, but looked past her for her high school sweetheart.
Max gasped into her mouth, shocked, surprised? Maybe she was angry, but her mouth was open and Safi wasn’t sure this was something she would ever experience again. Or even for the first time, if Max pulled away and took the time back.
She licked into her mouth, and she felt Max’s hands on her tighten. She was kissing her back. Maybe. Please, maybe. She wasn’t used to being the taller one doing the kissing. She liked how she had to curl downward to kiss her. She could curl around her and never let her go.
Safi could feel her tears falling down her cheeks. She shuddered as she pressed back again when Max started to pull away.
“Not yet,” Safi said, between their mouths, and Max pushed forward, her hand tightening into a fist at her jacket’s shoulder.
I love you. Safi wanted to say. I love you. Please. Let me prove it. Let me try.
Max said something, but Safi couldn’t catch it. She wanted to steal Max’s powers and pull back time. Make this moment last forever.
But then, if she did that, it wouldn’t be a moment anymore.
She wondered if she could really live with that.
Max nipped at her lip, and then the kisses turned slow and calming. Max wasn’t pulling away, and Safi wanted everything afterwards. Wanted more than right now. Wanted more than just this.
Let me try.
She tried to pull away. She didn’t want to. Max’s lips were… they were warm and soft and so nice against hers. Had she kissed Chloe’s lips today? What had Chloe’s felt like over her own?
“Don’t go, Safi.” Max said, and now she was the one shaking. Her grip on Safi had lightened, but she hadn’t let go.
She tried again.
“Come with me. It’s okay to bail. Everyone will always need you. You don’t have to be the hero.”
She watched a silent tear fall down Max’s face as she mouthed soundlessly, opening and closing. Safi wanted to bite her lips shut.
“Wait, okay. Don’t leave. Wait for me." Max was clutching her, pulling Safi back in. "I’ll stop this. I’ll fix everything. Just… this time, wait for me.” Their lips hovered in the same space, not touching, and Safi tilted her head until she was nuzzling her nose into Max’s, their foreheads resting together.
“Okay. I…I will. I'll wait.” Safi said, unsure if she was lying.
OT3 RIGHTS!!!!!!! i love them so much. i think they all balance each other out in different and important ways. i ship them in a “this is cass’s girlfriend rapunzel and that’s rapunzel’s boyfriend eugene” situation bcuz cass is extremely gay, but i really do love her dynamic with eugene almost as much as with rapunzel. it’s definitely my favorite platonic cass relationship. they just really mesh as a trio.
EmJess is still top tier ship to me for UD. Love the angst of them breaking apart and dealing with their own journey's, throw in the supernatural ridiculousness of that one night and the grief that comes bundled into it, to the slow re connection and ultimately helping one another to help? For both their own sake and to help look out for each other? AAAAA
YESSSS EXACTLY. god emjess really feels like it was made specifically for me, like it hits so many of my ship preferences..... the angst, the healing, the shared trauma, the history........
hey there! I played lis2 a little bit ago and you're one of the few ppl I follow that like, played the game (I only played it after getting the complete edition) and wanted to know if you were game to talk about it? I love discussing meta and character stuff in general. If not, that's cool tho.
Yes, absolutely! That’s what I’m here for! Feel free to send an ask or message.
