A/N: Leave it to a woman to inspire me to write again. <3
“And promise you’ll come back?”
If only you’d known how long those words stuck with Vi.
For years she had been kept in this prison, her age passing by faster than she could keep count as the days moved on. The gray walls and dreary interior she had become so accustomed to would be her undoing, she thought. The constant torment by the guards, being forced to live with those she always opposed, every reminder that she needed to get out, all of it in the end would amount to nothing. She feared she’d become nothing more than a statistic among the rest of the previous lane's residents.
She feared she’d never get back to you.
That was, of course, until a strange enforcer came to her rescue. Well… rescue was a strong word. In her eyes it was as if she was being taken from one cage to another.
“In what mad world would I trust someone like you?” She remembered the girl saying.
“Someone like you.”
They were all the same.
But she knew this girl was her best bet out of this place. Back to her sister and back to you.
So, with a slightly wounded ego and a more hopeful outlook on life, given her two goals were now closer than ever, she left with the enforcer.
It was as if she appeared from nowhere. When she showed up, Vi truthfully thought she was going to get another “talk”. Instead, however, she was set free. With a price of course. She knew better than anyone than to trust an enforcer, so she kept her distance. Although, she couldn’t help but be thankful for her help even if it meant giving some kind of information in return.
For the first time in years, Vi was able to move freely, hear the sounds of people bustling about, and see actual colors other than the dismal gray that engulfed the entirety of Stillwater. She wasn’t going to let some enforcer stop her from at least stretching her legs as she got reacclimated to the world around her. It wasn’t until the enforcer caught up with her once again did she realize she wasn’t going to just leave her alone.
“Where are we going?” The enforcer asked. Vi had learned her name to be Caitlyn, and honestly she was just trying to lose her but somehow she always found her way back. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, not even bothering to turn back towards her.
“We’re going to visit a friend.” She answered simply, her hood pulled up to cover her tattooed skin and her ever present pink hair. Although the crowd of the people of the lanes was a diverse bunch, someone like Vi would still be easily recognizable for those who knew to look for her, and she was sure there would be a few.
“Will this friend help us?” Caitlyn questioned skeptically, quickening her pace for a moment to catch up with Vi before slowing her pace once again. It was clear she was unsure of Vi's methods, probably letting what she had “learned” about the people of the undercity make her imagination go wild. She too kept her hood up, but less out of keeping her identity hidden, and more as if she was trying to shield herself from the strange new world around her. She had never been to the fissures first hand… and it was a lot to take in.
With her hands tucked into the pockets of her new, freshly stolen jacket, Vi sighed.
“If I say yes will you hurry up?” She asked with a sarcastically sweet smile on her face as she turned slightly to Caitlyn. The blue haired enforcer, now left with little options given that Vi was her only sense of direction, simply nodded in response and followed wherever Vi was headed with a hastened pace.
Luckily for Caitlyn, their route didn’t contain any parkour.
Vi hurriedly made her way through the streets of the Undercity with one place in mind. She had no idea where you could be after all these years, if you were even still here. So, to keep from losing her sanity all at once, she started at the place where everything used to make sense. She couldn’t help but feel her heartbeat quicken ever so slightly, fluttering with even a tinge of hope that things would be just as they once were. With you waiting outside the door, wondering when she’d be free to hang out. Just like how it used to be.
But instead of being greeted with both the nostalgic warm glow off the sign outside of the bar, and you waiting by the door, she was met with a jarring bright green neon eye that framed the sign. People hung around outside, some clearly drunk off their ass, while others picked fights. Two guards stood outside, keeping people out of the, what seemed to now be exclusive, bar.
This wasn’t right. None of this was.
Vi’s grip on the bar that he hands rested on tightened as she looked at the scene before her. If this had changed, she couldn’t imagine what else had happened.
And now she hadn’t a clue in the world where to look for you.
Little did she know, you really weren’t that far from her.
You, like many others in the Undercity, had to make ends meet.
You had to learn to survive.
And as a kid who lost everyone close to them, you really didn’t have many choices. So, you started from the bottom, working in the mines as many other kids your age did and worked your way up. Unfortunately, working in the mines meant you were working for Silco. The kingpin of the lanes. You couldn’t escape him if you tried. No one could, it seemed. The more you worked up and out of the mines, the closer you got to the man himself. Of course you never got to any influential role like his right hand. That title was reserved for Sevika.
But you didn’t need anything like that. You just wanted to survive, you didn’t want to have any real influence.
Who knew from starting out in the mines, you would one day work your way up into working in the bar that you once thought to be a home of some sorts. In your eyes, everyone but Powder had died in that accident all those years ago. You never did find out exactly what had happened and you figured it would be for the best not to ask. That was the best way to get around in a place that involved such sketchy business.
Keep your head down and don’t ask questions.
That’s how you got as far as you did.
What’s the point in asking questions you probably don’t want the answers to.
Every day you came into this bar to work, you couldn’t help but feel an unfathomable weight of guilt on your shoulders. You felt as if you let this happen. You felt as if you could’ve done something to stop Silco from practically desecrating the one thing everyone had left of Vander, other than the statue that was built in his honor. You felt as if you had done a disservice to Vi.
You knew how much Vi cared about those around her, and of course you also knew how much her sister meant to her. You never directly told her but you always knew that if anything had happened to Vi or Vander, you’d help out Powder.
But when the need arose, you realized far too late.
The first day you had come in to work at your new position, just as a regular busser, you hadn’t expected much. You had no interest in the company Silco kept so you never made it your business. Until one day, you were cleaning off a table when a blue haired girl came waltzing in the front door. Her demeanor was cheerful but… with a noticeable edge. There was something off about her. You simply ignored it, figuring it was not worth asking questions until you heard her laugh.
It was as if a strike of lightning struck through your entire being at that moment.
It couldn’t be. Could it?
You slowly turned once again to look back at the blue haired girl. A blue haired girl with even bluer eyes. Her laugh was identical to the one you had come to know very well all those years ago. It was then it clicked with you, that girl was Powder. She was here all along and you never knew. She was alive this whole time. You could’ve done something. You could’ve helped. And instead, here she was under Silcos care when she should’ve been under yours.
But then again, what could you have done? You too were just a child barely able to scrape together enough to make a living on your own, let alone take care of another altogether. Clearly that's not what mattered, what mattered was keeping Powder safe, what mattered was doing what you had secretly promised to Vi. What mattered was-
“Did you hear me?” A low voice broke you from your train of thought as you fluttered your eyelids and shook your head. You then looked up at the women before you who had spoken up just moments prior. You panicked a bit, immediately recognizing the woman to be Sevika, Silco’s cold hearted right hand. She grumbled under her breath knowing damn well you hadn’t heard a single word she just said before repeating,
“Clean this up.” She huffed, her eyelids lowering slightly as she stared at you.
“Right.” You replied quickly before quickly moving to grab your bucket and practically scooping all the dirty dishes into it to bring back to clean. You tried not to draw too much attention to yourself by just doing what was asked of you quick and easy, but it was hard not to let your mind run away from you when being in a place such as this. A place that meant so much to you and you could do nothing but sit back and watch it burn.
As you went back to clean the dishes, you noticed Sevika had gotten up and began to follow you. Great, you upset one of the three main people you never wanted to get on the bad side of.
Good going.
You braced yourself to be ridiculed or fired before you heard Sevika speak up.
“Hey, you.” She called out, to which you turned around, a questioning look on your face as you looked behind you before looking back at her. “Yes, you. Come here.” She called out, now very clearly looking directly at you. If you were wearing boots you’d be shaking in them by now. You listened, of course, and walked towards her, leaving behind your container of dishes on a counter nearby.
Once you made your way towards her, you simply made a gesture of acknowledgement, not speaking up as you waited for her to continue.
“I need you to handle something for me. You don’t talk much, that’s good.” She spoke, her voice low and gritty as she leaned towards you as if trying to keep, whatever she was about to let you in on, a secret. You were just a busser, you weren’t supposed to be involved in any of the bigger things, this isn't what you wanted.
Then again, you were just a busser, so there was no possible way that whatever Sevika wanted to suddenly burden you with was going to be all that damning, right?
“I have a ‘meeting’ tomorrow and I need someone else to go with. Don’t talk, don’t play, don;t do anything, you just have to be there. Got it?” She asked, well actually more like demanded. Then you realized, this ‘meeting’ was just another one of her gambling sessions. She must be playing something that involves two players and as someone who clearly doesn’t want to be in the way, she wouldn’t have to worry about you trying to snuff her out while playing.
You felt as if the entire weight of the world lifted off of your shoulders.
“Got it.” You responded.
“Rotten luck boys.” Sevika gloated, throwing her deck onto the table as the two men before both of you huffed and growled having now the last majority of their money that they likely had saved for this occasion.
Just before she could say anything else, the sound of a sudden impact flew through the air, and before you could ever process what had just happened you watched as a streak of pink flew past your vision. The two men that had once been sitting before you had scurried off, grabbing some of their belongings in the process, clearly not wanting to be involved.
You looked over to Sevika who was now partly on the floor as she grasped her jaw before looking up at the culprit.
“Vi?” You whispered at the same time as Sevika as you both gazed upon the pink haired woman who currently had her back turned towards you.
Vi quickly turned back around to face you both, her eyes quickly glancing at you but her gaze didn’t linger as her focus was clearly on Sevika. Without another word shared between the two of them, punches were thrown, blows were dealt, and the sound of faces hitting concrete became more frequent than you ever would have liked it to.
You backed off, staring at the scrap before you as your eyes remained locked on the pink haired woman. There was no way that was Vi. It couldn’t be, she was killed with everyone else right? Perhaps, this was just a woman who just happened to look like Vi..? You racked through your brain with a million reasons for this to somehow be possible. None of which involved this truly being Vi. You didn’t want to let your hopes up like that.
It wasn’t until you tuned back into the fight had you realized that Vi had kicked Sevika through a wall and was now holding her to the ground.
“Where’s my sister, where is he keeping her!” She demanded, holding her fist to Sevika’s face. It was then you realized, this really was Vi. From the voice, the fighting ability, the hair. You couldn’t deny it, it truly was her.
Your heart raced with excitement as you realized she was alive. She was really alive.
But if Sevika had her way, that wouldn’t be the case for long.
She drove her clawed metal hand into Vi’s abdomen, wounding her greatly.
You didn’t know what to do, if you spoke out against Sevika and lived you would be hunted for sport by Silco’s men, or Sevika herself. If you didn’t do anything, Vi was right on track to die.
Before you could make a decision, you heard the whirring of Sevika’s arm as she stood once again, grabbing Vi and holding her in place.
“Hm, oh. And I almost forgot, a friend of yours wanted to say hi.” She taunted as she tilted Vi’s dreary face towards you. You watched as her face that was riddled with pain changed ever so slightly with shock as she recognized you.
“Sunshine…?” She said quietly. The nickname that she had given you all those years ago. before you both turned back to Sevika as the sound of her arm powering up filled the air. Vi looked as if she had given up by this point, having no more strength in her to fight.
You had to help, you had to do something. You weren’t going to sit by and let this happen.
(minors dni & ageless blogs dni /// inspired by this post and brainworms with @petrichorium)
"dear?" neuvillette asks. you're sprawled out on his chaise lounge, reading today's issue of the steambird. you're distracted.
"yes?"
"what exactly does it mean if you're 'wet'?"
you smile at him sweetly from across his office, "... come again?"
he looks overwhelmingly serious. though he does, occasionally, toss a joke or two into his daily conversations, it's rare. you know the look he wears when he does so. and in this moment? he looks completely sincere.
"if you are wet, the meaning, please. i believe you should know?"
"i-i mean," you laugh. "neuvillette, love, dearest— are you... being entirely serious?"
"yes."
"ah, alright." your lover is the current incarnation of the hydro draconic primordial, but regardless. "to be damp. moist. covered in liquid, probably water?"
neuvillette brow scrunches. then relaxes after a moment and he shakes his head. the soft, curved horns that curl into his hair tremble with the motion. he smiles and shakes his head, shutting the book he'd be paging through. you catch a glimpse of the cover and— oh.
everything comes together.
"A Seaman's Conquest: The River's Maiden and Jewel" is the latest erotic novel by the quietly-famed 'Épée Honnête'. you recognized the cheesy art on the novel, and the flourishing text. you've read one or two of the author's works, but in the quiet and private of your own home. stashed atop each other in your nightstand, with a seldom-used vial soft oil. their prose is a... bit over the top. but they're also a sensation.
you have to wonder how and why neuvillette, of all people, is reading the book (and by your brief look, seems to be about half-way through it.) it is not the kind of thing he'd pick up himself— you've never seen neuvillette reading anything other than case files and evidence prior. yet apparently he's been ripping into erotica. right under your nose.
which explains his question.
"o-oh!" you swallow. "you mean wet like—"
"yes."
you squeeze your thighs together.
much to your initial surprise, neuvillette had incredibly limited experience when it came to bodily pleasure. intimacy in and of itself is something that he clearly yearns for, but perhaps does not know how to convey. you're not sure if neuvillette, in all his stature, could ever truly be bumbling, but he gets close to it with physicality.
he's careful. an incredibly fast learner but bent on taking his time, being thorough— meaning that most of your physical encounters are kissing under both of your lips are bruised and slick. you know that neuvillette feels aroused in those moments; the hard press of his clothed cock nudged up to you is proof of it. and you're turned on in those moments— horribly. you've soaked through your panties on more than one occasion. he makes you so— wet.
"wet is like... female arousal." you say simply, steeling yourself. you'll jump him otherwise.
"it this makes you... wet? is this like perspiration?"
"no, no. not at all. not really." you shake your head with a laugh. "it's like. slick? f-from my insides. it's lubrication for intercourse, to be entirely clinical about it."
"... but it's indicative of arousal?"
"entirely." you nod, trying to focus on the case file in front of you. your eyes have skimmed the same line three times.
neuvillette pauses and your hear a flutter of pages before his 'A Seaman's Conquest' closes once more, "have i made you wet before?"
you swallow. get ahold of yourself.
"yes. frequently."
"hm." neuvillette hums and his chair creaks as he sits back. he picks up his silver goblet and swirls it. the gem on it's side refracts the warm glow of the office light, dragging your gaze to his.
he's looking at you— hungry. perhaps something else. something insatiable.
"i want to know more." he tells you. rises. walk toward you with the defined click of his heeled boots on the hardwood fo the floor. "i feel as if i was missing something important without this knowledge. and there's more to be understood."
"well, ask away. i'm an open book." you tell him, craning your neck to meet his eyes.
"may i make a request?"
"of course."
"i..." neuvillette swallows around his words. you drag him onto the lounge with you and lean into his shoulder. moral support and all.
"it's fine if you don't know quite what to ask. or what you want." you assure him. you'll eat up anything he gives you, really.
"i know exactly what i want, it's a matter of phrasing."
"oh, yeah?" you wonder if he's nervous about you not understanding his desires. or if he's worried about being too blunt or forward.
you tilt your head back until neuvillette coaxes you down into his lap. his hand, gloved hand, smooths down your jaw. his fingertips trail down your neck, pressing into your curves and divots. bones and flesh alike. it's exploratory.
neuvillette touch slips down your collar, to bare skin. you shudder. "i'm curious."
"y-yeah? seems like you are."
he laughs, gentle and under his breath. his palm cups your cheek, soothing and kind. with a tilt of his head:
"i'd like to make you wet with my touch, and then taste you."
he says it hushed; it's just meant for you and you alone to hear. the intention of it makes you feel crazy, out of your skin. the look he's pinning you with. the ability he wields while being entirely sincere is going to undo you.
you swallow, a little sound sticking in the back of your throat. you squeeze your thighs together and close your eyes, "neuvillette, you're killing me here."
"am i?" there's a hint of a tease in his voice. you want to coax out more of it. you try and bury your face in his hip, but he doesn’t let you. he drag your chin straight and holds his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip.
"yes, y-you are." you mean to sound firm about it. but it comes out as a whine.
"so precious." he says softly, adoring. his thumb presses in into your mouth and runs along your teeth, into your gums. "would you like if i tasted you too?"
"fuck, neuvillette—" your words get muffled as his fingers press into your mouth further. he presses down on your tongue, the scent of clean leather and his gentle personal cologne almost suffocate it. you welcome it.
"is that a yes?"
you try to reply, but your words don't come out— his fault— so you only nod. perhaps too enthusiastically, but neuvillette doesn't seem to mind. his lips curl into a gentle smile, and he strokes over your cheeks. his only hand trails lower, finding home on your inner thigh.
"are you wet now?"
"'pworably—"
"cute." he says again. he still looks hungry. like he's going to eat you alive. there's an appetite in him, even if he doesn't know what it fully is or what to do with it. it seems, it really seems, like he's learning it. "may i find out—?"
"Monsieur Neuvillette!" The sharp crack of knocking on the door interrupts him as he leers over you. It's Laith, on the Seven— "the court time is within a half hour. do you require an escort?"
his grip on your thigh tightens. almost to point of hurting, but in the best way. you know you're wet now.
"no, laith, i will be alright on my own. i will be departing shortly."
"the prosecution's attorney sent over some last minute evidence files and requested i deliver them as well." the knob of the door starts to shift and you almost bolt up and away. neuvillette places his spit-covered hand on your chest to brace you down.
"i do not require the documents at this time. have them prepared for me at the opera epiclese."
the knob slips back into place, "of course, Monsieur. i'll see that they're delivered."
steps echo away from the door and you exhale a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, "awful timing."
his duty is paramount. you know this as he helps you to stand and as he straightens your close. he's being more dutiful about it than he could be, given his next court time is so close. you relish it.
"... are you wet?"
"right now?" you feel sticky in a way that's a bit cold now. you press your forehead to his lips in a quiet beg for a steadying kiss. he relents easily and gives it to you. "yes. you have that effect on me."
neuvillette takes a steadying breath and squeezes around your shoulders, "i apologize for the timing of things, but—"
"i know." you tell him. "it's okay. besides, i have fingers and some toys at home. you've given me new material to work with."
"... you think about me when you're pleasuring yourself?" he blinks at you, eyes wide. you can't help but smirk.
"consistently." you nod and beam at him. "often. basically every time. i haven't even seen your cock but my mind's eye has come up with some creative theories and visual concepts."
that gets him to blush, a high, pearly pink that's almost purple. it fades into his hairline.
"this is going to be a particularly difficult court session."
"i can only imagine. is it my fault?"
"only partially." neuvillette assures you with no bite. "perhaps blame wriothesley for that book he lent me. he insisted i read it and get back to him for a review."
"huh."
you could lose it. really. wriothesley is a bastard. you should punch him. or kiss him— except you've grown from those days and you haven't seen that busted-lip smile of his in years. nice to know he's still doing you favors. you should send him an edible arrangement.
"and myself, too. thoughts to entertain at home, and not at the office."
"perhaps, perhaps." you tell him. you don't mind. you brush your lips to his cheek.
"would you visit me, after court?" who knows when that will be. you don't really care. you have a key, afterall.
"of course." you'll have tea prepared. perhaps sex education flashcards. maybe. or you'll break out the lacey slip that's been seldom-touched since purchase and surprise him. who knows. the world's your oyster.
and as you walk with neuvillette out of the palais mermonia and see him off on one of the aquabuses, you catch it in him again. in the almost-longing gaze he sends you as he departs, you see it. something awakening. old and new all at once in him. directed at you. he's famished. or, perhaps—
why do none of you ever comment you dont understand how dissapointed i get when i see the comment section and it says theres only one comment and its a bot
it is genuinely the saddest feeling ever i dont care if you just say "lol" as a comment it will still bring me more joy than "i love your art. dm me"
