sarahshot1st
Vi's Infinity Gauntlet
When my creative urges overtake me, I answer the call - and post the fruits of my labor here. Main blog: The Shattered Lanes.
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“Hey Weiss, do you think I could impress that quiet emo girl if I flex my muscles?”
The Schnee-company heiress looked up from her homework, stifling a sigh.
“Probably, Yang. It would depend largely upon her sexual orientation.”
The blonde-haired brawler lowered her arm, eyebrows scrunching up in concentration.
“What?” Weiss asked, stifling a stab of disappointment that the well-muscled limb was no longer being proffered for display. Yang wasn't that attractive - she happened to look particularly fetching today.
“I mean …” Yang seemed at a loss for words. “I kinda just assumed that every girl who went to Beacon was gay. You know. Cuz’ of all the weapons and fighting and stuff.”
Weiss let out an exasperated sigh. “Yang, just because someone is good with weapons doesn’t mean they’re a lesbian. Your mom is a perfect example of that.”
“I mean, to hear my Uncle Qrow tell it, my moms were kinda gay for each other.”
“Yang! Qrow is not a reliable source in these matters.”
Yang frowned, crossing her arms defensively. “Well, why not?”
Weiss rolled her eyes as if it was obvious. “Your uncle refuses to own up to his own homosexual tendencies because he’s trying to play the part of the ‘cool uncle’ to his nieces.”
“That’s a bit harsh, even for you.”
“His frequently regales us," Weiss powered on, unwilling to let the subject drop, "with tall-tales of his exploits involving young barmaids. These are clearly some sort of juvenile attempt to pass as heteronormative. Face it, Yang: the man couldn’t walk straight if it would save his life - which, if his posture does not dramatically improve, might actually become the case.”
“Oh, who’s stereotyping now?”
“I’m just saying,” Weiss said, turning back to her desk, “that he pings my gaydar harder than anyone I’ve ever known - and you haven't met my siblings yet.”
Yang frowned for a moment, mulling over what Weiss had said. Finally, her face broke into a shit-eating grin. In what Weiss would describe as a proactively-hopeful tone of voice, Yang prodded:
“So if you have a gaydar, does that mean you’re gay?”
Weiss suddenly snapped her book shut, rising to leave.
“That, Yang Xiao-Long,” she proclaimed, “is a statement which I can neither confirm nor deny. Good day to you.”
Yang didn’t bother hiding her look of satisfaction as the snowy-haired girl brushed past her out the door.
#rwby volume 1#rwby fic#bumblebee#freezerburn#yang xiao long#weiss schnee#whitley and winter are both hella gay ngl#so is qrow#qrow branwen#raven x summer#rosebird
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The Bees in their Natural Habitat
Sho P. Keeper’s Coffee was the only coffee place open on a Saturday morning following the Grimm attack in Beacon. Many of the other shops had been destroyed or damaged in the fighting, but somehow this one remained unscathed.
“So, how have classes been for you?” Yang asked, stretching her arms out.
“Pretty good,” Blake replied, stirring a healthy dollop of honey into her tea.
Aside from a few gen-ed courses like Professor Port’s “Grimm Taxonomy and Strategy 101” and Professor Oobleck’s “History 101,” they mostly had separate classes from one another. Most of the time they spent together was either studying in the dorm or out training in the field. It was rare the two of them had a moment to themselves; a chance to just sit down and talk about their lives without having to worry about homework or strategizing with their team.
That was one advantage to a hoard of giant monsters rampaging through your city - it tended to make professors pretty lenient with due dates. Particularly when you were part of the team that helped put an end to that rampage.
“I’ve been thinking about experimenting with some upgrades to my gauntlets,” Yang said, stretching out her arm to display Ember Celica. “My baby girls have served me well, but I gotta make sure they stay in tip-top shape, you know? I’ve heard the new Deadlock actuators are designed to help high-caliber weapons cycle their rounds faster, with less chance of jamming.”
Blake nodded. Yang’s weapon fired shells that sprayed the target with a barrage of smaller particles, similar to bird-shot used by many recreational hunters - though much more deadly. The trade-off was that they weren’t very effective at long range, but Yang preferred to fight up-close-and-personal anyway. Blake’s own weapon was more balanced between close-and-long range, a design choice which was meant to compliment her hit-and-run tactics.
Yang finished her speech about various weapon parts and grinned excitedly, instinctively making a fist to cock the weapon. With a start, Blake realized she had missed the last part of what the blonde-haired brawler had been saying - she had been too busy staring at Yang’s guns.
Mh-hm. Yes. Guns. That’s what we’re talking about. Weapons.
Blake took a sip of her tea, hoping its relative warmth would serve as an excuse for her flushed cheeks. To be fair, it was an honest mistake - you couldn’t really look at one without admiring the other, and Yang had been showing them off quite eagerly.
“Interesting,” Blake said, falling back on her default answer for when she had zoned out of a conversation. Showed that you were still following the discussion, yet was non-committal enough that it wouldn’t give away what you had missed. It seemed to do the trick. Yang took a sip of her drink - which was apparently some combination of hot chocolate and coffee - then asked, “How about you? Do you have any potential weapon modifications in mind?”
“Not exactly,” Blake replied, gathering her thoughts. Fortunately, this was a topic she could easily discuss at a moment’s notice. “Gambol Shroud is already custom-built from the ground-up. With how complex a weapon it is, I’d worry about second-hand parts not fitting in, or worse upsetting the balance of the system.”
“Complex indeed!” Yang exclaimed. “It’s like a sword, but sometimes it’s a bigger sword? And sometimes it’s not a sword at all, but a gun? And there’s a rope that somehow doesn’t get tangled up in all of that?” She took a sip of her chocolate-coffee. “I’ve spent hours staring at that thing, and I still don’t understand how it works!” She froze, then hastily added, “Not that I’ve spent hours - staring in your direction, I mean … we’ve been on assignments together, and practiced fighting as a team. You know.”
Blake narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Was Yang … acting nervous all of a sudden? Yang, who always seemed so confident?
No, she thought, you’re just imagining things because you want them to be true. If Yang was interested like that, she’d just come out and say it. It was a character trait Blake wished she could practice a little more herself.
Sighing, she took another sip of her tea.
***
Across the lawn, two figures peeked out of a bush, watching the proceedings through binoculars.
“How oblivious can you be?” Weiss demanded angrily. “What do we need to do, go over there and knock their heads together, then make them kiss?”
Ruby lowered her binoculars, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “No, Agent Schnee. This is a delicate operation - one which could be ruined by your crude efforts. We must exercise patience. Any attempt to bring about a swift resolution will only ruin the chemistry that is already simmering beneath the surface.”
Weiss huffed, folding her arms. “You mean to tell me that these two are going to be fawning over each other for months? I’m not sure I can handle that, what with how obvious they’re being.”
Ruby suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders. “YOU WILL NOT JEOPARDIZE THE SECRECY OF THIS MISSION JUST TO SATISFY YOUR IMPATIENCE, DO YOU HEAR ME AGENT SCHNEE? I WILL NOT HAVE YOU RUINING THIS!”
Ruby’s vigorous attempts to shake some sense into her teammate were interrupted by a noise from across the lawn.
“Did you hear that?” Yang’s voice could be heard.
Both of the huntresses froze. After a moment, Blake replied, “Must have been an animal passing through the bushes.”
Slowly, careful not to rustle any branches, the two observers disentangled themselves from one another. Weiss huffed, dusting off her shoulders.
“There’s no need to overreact like that,” the heiress grumbled.
“It’s not an overreaction,” Ruby said, voice quiet but still intense. “This is the most important operation we’ve been on together! If they mess this up - if we mess this up…”
Then Yang will miss out on the first chance she’s had in long time, Ruby thought, not able to finish the sentence out loud. The first chance at finding someone who can make her happy.
Ruby had seen the way Yang and Blake acted around each other, they way they kept stealing glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Heck, half the school had probably picked up on what was happening between the two of them. It was obvious what was happening. She and Weiss just needed to carefully observe, so they could keep the relationship on track.
She owed that to her sister.
“Come on, Agent Schnee. The field study has proved to be success. Now we need to withdraw before we potentially disturb the bees in their natural habitat any further.”
Weiss sighed at her teammate’s antics, but didn’t say anything further as they (somewhat) stealthily extricated themselves from the bush and headed back to the dorm to further discuss the findings.
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12 year old Bruce: I’m moving out
12 year old Bruce: *spends the night in the pool house*
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The Day's Masterpiece
Ready, love?
Ahri's mind interpreted the singing with practiced ease. She nodded, breathing deeply in preparation for what would be the third movement of the symphony that had been brewing for the past hour.
"Ready."
Sona's fingers - the fingers of a master instrumentalist - reached inside Ahri, displaying all the love and care Sona displayed when playing her Etwahl.
Ahri gasped, feeling the sensation of the delicate digits plumbing her depths, exploring, caressing. She let out a protracted sigh as the sensation of being known washed over her, sinking into her bones.
“That’s … that’s really good love. Keep it up.”
A slight grin, too sudden to be a proper smile, split the blue-haired girl’s lips. She clearly took pride in the job she was doing, as would any master artist.
She continued like this for some time, gently edging Ahri forward, pushing her towards an inevitable finale. They didn’t rush, feeling no need to reach the end; each stroke of the brush, each note played on the instrument that was the Vastaya’s body was beautiful in its own right. To truly enjoy the journey, you must learn to savor each step.
Every journey, however, must eventually come to an end.
Ahri’s breathing intensified as she felt a wonderous sensation blossoming in her core. Panting, she surrendered herself slowly to the climax Sona had been building towards for the past thirty minutes. She felt herself slipping away as something cracked open inside her. Relief, pleasure, and closure washed over her in equal measure, sweeping her away in a flood of sensations. She floated in a sea, not thinking, merely existing.
Eventually, her breathing stilled, and she felt herself returning to the mortal plane. Sona had been waiting patiently while as she came down from her high, admiring her handiwork. As she noticed Ahri’s breathing steadying, she raised an eyebrow, at once both cocky and curious. The question was simple.
Again?
“No …” Ahri panted. “That’s … quite enough. I dare say … we won’t be able to outdo what we’ve just … accomplished.”
Sona nodded, seeming satisfied. Her hands - conspicuously clean, she must have dealt with the evidence while Ahri was out of it - began signing.
The day’s masterpiece.
Ahri grinned, feeling suddenly coy.
“You could say that.”
#ahri x sona#ahri league of legends#ahri#sona buvelle#league of lesbians#nsft fic#sapphic smut#lesbian smut#wlw smut#ficlet#short fiction
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"I hate you!" Raven screamed, hurling a bowling ball at the infuriating firebrand.
"Aw, you know you love me," Cinder cooed, easily dodging the projectile on jets of flame.
"I. Do. NOT!"
The Branwen chieftess punctuated the statement by slamming her fist into the rack, causing a half-dozen heavy ceramic balls to flick up into the air. A few quick strikes of her sword - drawn in the blink of an eye - left the spheres cloven in half, making them more susceptible to the gust of wind she summoned with her Maiden powers.
Cinder laughed, turning aside the attacks with bursts of superheated air. She danced around in the air, playful, inviting, and Raven rose to meet her.
"Next time I see your daughter, I'll tell her you're alive and well - just as much the selfish prick she remembers."
Raven felt an uncontrollable spike of anger flash through her. The power burning from her eyes flared to life as she growled:
"You stay away from Yang, you bitch."
"Oh but of course, that's how you raise a child, isn't it? By ignoring them?"
Raven screamed, an incoherent howl of rage. She dashed forward, swinging Omen in a brutal arc that could have easily decapitated three ordinary foes - but Cinder was no ordinary foe. Her own blade formed in her hands as she raised them to intercept the attack, and there was an explosion of sparks as the two weapons met.
What followed was a devastating series of blows, faster than the eye could track. Raven cycled through each of Omen's dust cartridges, attacking with Ice, Gravity, Lightning, and Hard-Light in an attempt to keep her opponent off-guard. Cinder, however, was familiar by now with the unique properties of Raven's blade, and adapted her own weapons each time to counter Raven's attacks. Eventually the chieftess settled on Fire, her blade burning with a wicked glow that matched Cinder's own. The exchange ended with their swords crossed, each struggling to overpower the other.
The pyromaniac grinned wickedly. "You can pretend you hate me all you want, Raven - but the portal you used to come here tells the truth. You can only bond them to people you have a strong emotional connection to - isn't that right?"
"I find hatred to be the strongest emotion of them all," Raven spat. "I keep one on Qrow so I can keep track of his bullshit."
"Well, if you ever decide to do something about that bothersome brother of yours, hit me up, will you? I've got a score to settle with that drunkard too."
Raven pulled back, huffing condescendingly. "You know what? Fine. That's actually the most reasonable suggestion you've made all night."
Cinder smirked. "We'll call it a date then."
Raven's face contorted into a snarl. "Fuck. YOU."
"Fuck me yourself."
"RAAAAAAAARRRGGHHHHHHHH-"
***
"So how'd the date go?" Vernal asked innocently.
Raven strolled out of the portal, not even sparing her lieutenant a second glance. "Shut it, Vernal."
"Yes ma'am." She didn't even try to hide her smile.
***
"You know, I don't know what you see in that woman," Watts said, voice laced with ridicule.
Cinder smiled. "I think she likes me."
"Oh please," the lanky man scoffed, not even bothering to turn from the ensemble of Scrolls he had laid out in front of him. "Every time the two of you meet, you inevitably end up holding swords to each other's throat. That is hardly what I'd call a romantic display of affection."
"And that just shows how little you know of romance. Swordplay has always been considered a suitable form of foreplay - or have you forgotten how our Mistress and her lover courted?"
Watts sniffed. "I'd hardly call theirs a model for a healthy relationship."
"And what would you know of relationships?" Cinder asked, waving a dismissive hand as she strolled through Evernight Castle. "You can't ever be bothered to become entangled with someone - always so busy with your toys. Face it, Watts." She paused, eyeing the back of Watts' always-impeccable suit. "You're a sigma."
"Just because I prioritize our Lady's goals over my own pursuits doesn't make me a 'sigma,' as you so crassly put it." The mustachioed man finally spun around in his chair to face Cinder directly. "My work is more important than any simple 'fling'."
"I see. Well then, I suppose there's no need to tell you I received an update from Tyrian this morning."
"What? Where is he? How is he doing? Is he all right?" The questions tumbled out of Watts' mouth faster than Cinder could answer, and he stood so quickly that his chair nearly toppled over.
Cinder smiled. "Deranged, psychotic, and nihilistic - in other words, Tyrian's doing just fine."
Cinder's tone was knowing, and Watts actually had the decency to blush. "Yes, well, that is very good. I worry about him when he's out on his own, given his penchant for self-inflicted pain. Do make sure he doesn't hurt himself."
"I'll be sure to tell him you asked after him."
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Reblog if you write fic and people can inbox you random-ass questions about your stories, itemized number lists be damned.
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Modern school AU with Leona and Diana going to a dance (parallel to the festival in Rise with Me)
Leona getting all pretty and dolled up, knee-length skirt and leggings, frilly bronze-dress with red accents (matching her armor), hair in intricate braids with hair spikes in sunburst iconography
Single earring with an amber droplet at the center, mirroring the asymmetry of her dress
Diana in a navy-blue fuccboi suit, long loose slacks, tie held behind a white vest, blazer held over her shoulder as she stares with contempt around the room
Silvery hair cut short in an Eton crop, her entire outfit evoking symmetry where Leona presents asymmetry
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Convergence hype made me finally write this idea down
“DAMMIT!”
Ekko collapsed to the ground as the portal spat him out. Jorkan was at his side in an instant, trying to help him to his feet, but Ekko shoved him away.
“No, no, no, NO!” He punctuated each repetition with a fist to the ground - imitating the way his big sister had dealt with her frustration without realizing it.
It didn’t seem to help.
“It’s okay boss,” Jorkan consoled, “we can try again - recalibrate some of the frequencies - you’ll get it eventually, I’m sure -”
Ekko cut him off. “Don’t you get it? There is no next time. This was our last shot, and I failed.”
The vastaya cocked his head, bat-like ears twitching in confusion. “But … you literally have all the time in the world. Remember?” He grinned hesitantly. The joke - one which the spunky leader of the Firelights himself had coined, and was fond of cracking - felt forced.
Ekko shook his head. “That was our best chance,” he repeated, “and it wasn’t enough. We optimized all the variables, and I still wasn’t able to make it back farther than a few seconds.” He shook his head in frustration. “Maybe with more practice, I’ll be able to ride the waves of space-time better, but -”
“I’m afraid that will not make a difference, my dear boy.”
They both turned to where a hooded figure stood in the shadows. The effect was intimidating - until you noticed the speaker’s diminutive frame.
“You will not be able to greatly extend the duration of your chronological jaunts, no matter how much training you undergo,” Heimerdinger said, pushing back the cowl of his cloak as he stepped out of the shadows. “A few minutes, perhaps even a few hours - but never as far as you would need to achieve your goal.”
Ekko finally rose to his feet, huffing in derision. “And how would you know? It wasn’t your fancy Piltie hands that built the Z-Drive.”
The former Councilor brushed aside the dig, recognizing it as a product of the boy’s current frustration, and not any resentment towards his heritage. A shared love of learning and discovery had helped bring the two brilliant minds together, just as it had brought together the founders of their society. But with the stakes as high as they were - stakes of a very personal nature - Ekko’s patience was bound to run thin.
Ah, lad, the wizened yordle thought, you are gifted for one so young. That, unfortunately, will make accepting failure exceedingly difficult.
Heimerdinger kept his voice calm as he responded.
“It is not a matter of knowing the mathematics behind the operation, but rather the principles. You are attempting to create a device that will allow you to change the past - and therefore, the present. You take the very fabric of reality in the palm of your hand, and toy with it the way a child tinkers with a set of gears. That is well - a testament to your remarkable ingenuity. Doing so, however, carries great risk. Place too much strain on the system, and the gears might just break.”
Heimerdinger placed a consoling hand on the boy’s shoulder. “What you have managed to accomplish already is truly remarkable - and I suspect that you will continue to find ways to perfect the process. But eventually, you will reach barriers - limits not even one such as yourself can break. The universe itself will restrain you, for reality cannot allow itself to be torn asunder. To do so would risk catastrophe.”
Ekko shook his head, face contorted nearly into a snarl. “Well, then the universe is just going to have to learn to play by my rules for once.”
Heimerdinger sighed. “And what would you do, my boy, if you achieved your goal? If you managed to travel back to that fateful day, and save your family from Silco’s machinations?”
“I - I would rescue them! And then - then, I’d finally get the life I should have had. A life with them in it!” He turned away, though not quickly to hide the droplet of water sliding down his cheek.
“And you would have no reason to ever create this remarkable piece of technology,” Heimderinger said gently. “You would have everything you ever wanted, and so you would have no reason to struggle against the hands of time. The person you are now would be gone, replaced by a completely different Ekko - one who would never found the Firelights, or create the Z-Drive. All the good you’ve accomplished would be gone, just like that.”
“They’re worth that!” Ekko suddenly burst out, spinning to face them. Jorkan backed away, but Heimerdinger stood his ground. “Mylo and Claggor deserve to be saved just as much as any of the people here in the Sanctuary! Just like Vander! Just like -”
He swallowed, suddenly growing very quiet.
Just like Powder.
Heimderinger was silent for a moment. This was not a time to offer contradictions.
After a long moment, Ekko sniffed away his tears, breaking the silence.
“I know what you’re going to say - that I can save far more people with the Z-Drive than I could going back to get my family. That I have to measure the good I could do for myself with the greater good I could do for my community. Well, I don’t buy that. If I go back and stop Silco, there won’t need to be a Firelights, because Vander will still be in charge. So there.”
“Actually, that’s not what I was going to say.”
Ekko arched an eyebrow, almost a challenge.
“The value of your own family versus the families of these present here is a philosophical dilemma you will have to grapple with on your own - one I dare not weigh in on. Regardless, I fear it is a conundrum not worth pursuing - for I believe it impossible for you to travel that far back in the first place. The strain on the continuation of casualty -”
“We already discussed the paradox conundrum!” Ekko interrupted. “We proved that I can change the past without breaking the timeline.” They had started off performing simple experiments, allowing Ekko to see how many bolts Heimderinger had placed into a sealed bag, then pulling one of them out - changing the outcome in real-time.
“A few seconds, yes,” Heimderinger agreed, “because we determined that the Z-Drive acts a focus for your time-travelling. But what happens if you travel further past the Z-Drive’s creation? You will no longer have a device to stabilize the space-time continuum.”
Ekko fell silent. For once he had no response to one of Heimderinger’s challenging questions.
“When you set out to create this device, you were determined to undo the tragic events of your past,” Heimderdinger said consolingly. “A worthy endeavor , if there ever was one. But in making this outcome the ultimate goal of your attempts, the foundation of your reasoning for creating the Z-Drive …”
Ekko groaned - a mixture of rage, frustration, and grief - bitter, begrudging acceptance, mixed with an unwillingness, an inability, to accept defeat.
“...I’m afraid you made that outcome the one possibility you will never be able to achieve.”
Ekko snatched the Z-Drive off the ground, slinging it back around his shoulder.
“You don’t know that,” he snarled, “and until I give up, you can’t prove it. Jorkan, fetch me the spare crystals from the workshop. I’m going to need more soon.”
Heimerdinger shook his head, retreating back to his corner. He didn’t turn around as a loud BWZING announced the device’s activation, followed a few seconds later by a string of curses as the frustrated boy collapsed to the ground once again.
Those two sounds continued long into the night.
#ekko#ekko arcane#ekko league of legends#convergence#arcane netflix#arcane league of legends#don't know what ekko's lieutenant is named so we're going with this#firelights#short ficlet#oneshot#drabble#angst#no one in this fandom gets to be happy#sorry i don't make the rules
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"Do you want to go see a movie on Saturday?"
Diana frowned, pulling out one earbud, arm resting lazily against the library table.
"A movie?"
Leona stuttered. "Yeah, I mean - it's just, there's a lot of good ones showing right now, you know?"
Diana huffed. "I guess."
"I was planning on going alone, but it's nicer when you have someone to go with." Leona forced a smile, which completely failed to cover up the nervousness she was obviously feeling. Diana had the distinct impression the red-headed jock had planned this interaction out, and that it wasn't going how she had planned.
She decided to be merciful. "Yeah, I know what you mean. At least if the movie sucks, you have someone to shit-talk it with afterwards."
"Right! And if it's good, you can talk about what made you like it."
Diana gave a faint smile. Based on what she knew of Leona, she could likely talk someone's ear off for thirty minutes about a movie she enjoyed. When the brawny athlete got excited about something, it became her entire universe. She reminded Diana of how her History of Religion professor gave lectures, jumping from topic to topic, making connections with whatever else was currently on his mind; only instead it was about Taylor Swift's latest album, or the plot of some anime Leoma had been watching. Diana honestly found it amusing to see that same level of hyperfocus applied to much more light-hearted subjects than the heavy things Dr. Terris discussed - topics like ethnic displacement and conflicts between rival sects.
"I suppose that's a fair point," Diana said, closing her notebook. She had finished studying an hour ago, and had been passing the time doodling on blank pages and listening to her mellow playlist. She could have left, but Leona studied better when she had someone with her. It didn't matter if they talked about the homework or not, having another body present helped Leona stay focused.
"...So? Do you wanna?" Leona's tone was so full of innocent pleading, she might as well have been pointing her index fingers together.
Did she? They had been study partners for two weeks now, and Diana was honestly coming to enjoy Leona's company. Goodness knew she could stand to expand the size of her friend circle. She had become something of a loner at Targon University, with most of the people she knew from high school going off to different schools or starting careers. Having someone to consistently spend time with had proven good for her. But going from "study partners" to "actual hang-out friends" was a big leap. Is that what she wanted?
"Fine," Diana said, trying not to make a big deal out of it. "What do you want to see? I hear the new Scream movie's supposed to be halfway decent."
Leona paled. "I'd … I'd rather not see a horror film. They're not really my thing."
Interesting, Diana thought. The big, tough, jock-girl is squeamish. She filed that information away for later use.
"Well, I'm not that picky. Pick something out and let me know. But Leona?"
"Yes?"
"Let's do Sunday instead of Saturday."
"Okay…" Leona's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Monday's your off-day for practice. I don't have work, and our classes aren't until the afternoon. We can stay out late and sleep in. Thar way, we can dodge the Saturday evening crowd."
Leona nodded. "Good thinking."
Diana shrugged. "I worked at a movie theater during high school. The employees would always fight each other over who got the Sunday shifts because the place was practically dead. The less people going out on dates, the less popcorn there is to clean up afterwards."
She kept her tone of voice completely neutral, avoiding Leona's face by taking a sip of water. When she lowered her Nalgene, however, she saw that the girl's face had turned nearly as red as her hair.
So Leona did consider this to be a date.
Did Diana mind that?
"I'll … I'll pick you up at 7?" Leona asked, hastily packing up her things. Her homework, Diana noted, was only half-finished.
Well, this could prove interesting.
"Sounds like a plan."
#leodia#short fiction#short ficlet#college au#leona is on the football team#diana is majoring in religious studies#adhd leona#bcuz i project my neurodivergencies onto my blorbos#not alluded to here but trans leona#demisexual diana
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A part of Akali's brain still couldn't comprehend how mind-numbingly gorgeous Evelynn was.
♪♫ - "Naked" by Ava Max
She took in the sight of her lover's nude form stretched out on top of her, lying in the bed they shared. Evelynn's body was succulent, curvaceous, and eye-catching - the kind of figure that turned heads as soon as she walked into the room. Even now, while she was wearing absolutely nothing, Evelynn clothed herself with a domineering sense of poise and self-assuredness. It took a special woman to look completely in control while also completely naked.
Evelynn was a very special woman.
"Good girl," the taller woman whispered, eyes rapt with the attention she was receiving, craving it as much as Akali craved the sex. Akali was completely and totally focused on her, unable to draw her attention anywhere else. It was similar to how she got completely absorbed in a new song the group was working on, unable to pull herself away until she had gotten the dance moves down just right.
Eve loved it when she hyperfixated on her. She needed to feel like she could command all the attention in the room, and with a figure like that, she absolutely could - only now there was no one else to enjoy the view but Akali.
She felt a rush as Evelynn's perfectly manicured hands reached inside her sports bra to trace loops atop her breasts, feeling her animal instincts taking over, urging her to reach forward and return the gesture. She moaned in pleasure at the contact - her pussy barely stimulated, Evelynn intentionally holding back on that front. She liked her toys riled up and ready to go before she dominated them fully. Akali would have complained - she often had trouble waiting to satisfy her urges. But when Evelynn made her be patient, it was easy - having someone else give her context helped.
Besides. Considering how often she caught herself admiring Eve's bust, she didn't mind the opportunity to indulge in that particular urge.
Eventually, Evelynn decided they had had enough foreplay. Akali felt her breath quicken as Evelynn slowly reached her fingers down her chest to her legs, settling in her crotch. She felt a build-up as the woman danced around her opening, then - without warning - slid her fingers inside.
Akali felt an immediate surge of pleasure at the contact. The past fifteen minutes of teasing had steadily worked her up, so she was ready for Eve to push her to the apex. She rode the wave of pleasure, too early to crash, too high to take it slowly.
Over and over Evelynn worked her, her other hand going back between massaging her breasts and teasing her clit. Evelynn had a tendency to act very possessive, and Akali found herself very much liking being possessed by this woman. She didn't have to worry when someone else was in charge - the constant anxiety that normally kept her wound tight as a cork and running up the walls seemed to dissipate, like a chill in a summer breeze. She felt herself relax, even as Eve worked her up into a frenzy.
It was always the look on Evelynn's face that sent her over the edge. Seeing the woman's naked body, feeling her fingers inside her, was enough to get her excited - but it was that look of complete domination, that arrogant look of self-satisfaction, knowing Akali was hooked on her, that was enough to make her go crazy.
Akali gasped, sputtered, spasmed, as she came crashing through. Evelynn's face broke into a delighted grin, seeing her lover finally succumb to her constant assault. Akali gasped as she felt werness pool between her legs, and moaned a little (okay, a lot) as Evelynn worked her through the orgasm.
In that moment, she knew she wanted nothing more than to be prey to this woman for the rest of her life.
Several moments later, they lay together on the mattress, wrapped in each other's arms, Evelynn pressing soft kisses into Akali's frazzled hair - still possessive, but displaying none of the earlier violence. Discovering Evelynn had a proficiency for gentle aftercare had been a pleasant surprise, one which Akali continued to be fascinated by.
Slowly, nuzzled against the other woman, Akali felt herself drifting off to sleep, Evelynn's fingers drawing lazy circles on her neck the last thing she felt.
#i'm obssessed with them your honor#akalynn#kda akalynn#porn with no plot#short fic#smut#kda akali#kda evelynn#adhd akali
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Redhead Redemption Chapter 0.1: Prologue
Her mother’s humming cut off as four large men crowded into the front room, trying to avoid knocking anything over. Part forge, part carpenter’s shop, the inside of Fortune’s Favor was littered with various tools and equipment. Tables, workbenches, and anvils were piled high with hammers, pliers, and saws, and firearms in various stages of completion lay in seemingly random locations. There was plenty of space to move between the various tools and equipment - if you were familiar with the layout of the shop. Sarah and her mother were used to moving about, sometimes holding a piece of metal that had been heated to several hundred degrees Celsius. In addition, they were both light and agile on their feet.
By contrast, these men were heavy-set, and were clad in thick boots and jackets. They looked intimidating … or at least, they looked like men trying to appear intimidating. Sarah found it hard to be impressed by anyone who would wear that many layers into a shop with an active forge. They were already sweating from the heat, and looked uncomfortable.
One of the men stepped forward, seeming unperturbed by the temperature. There was an … air to him. He walked forward calmly, not stomping his boots into the ground like the others had to make themselves seem louder. He had a sword at his side, but unlike his compatriots he didn’t seem overly pleased about the fact. They seemed eager to show theirs off, twisting their torsos so their blades were clearly visible, but this man was familiar enough with the weapon’s weight on his belt to ignore it.
His face was intense. Piercing green eyes peeked out from behind a curving mustache, and his bushy beard ran all the way up to his sideburns. He wore a rugged brown-and-crimson coat, black trousers, and the typical tricorn hat favored by Bilgewater's sailor population. The overall effect was quite striking. Sarah knew several barmaids who probably would have called him handsome - particularly if they were fishing for a larger tip, or trying to convince their mothers that they weren’t gay.
Overall, the man gave the impression of control - someone who knew what he wanted, and expected to get it.
“Well, are they ready?” the man asked, sauntering up to Abigale.
In response, Sarah's mother whipped around, leveling one of the handguns she had been working on towards the man.
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Redhead Redemption Chapter 0: Prologue
Summary: Tragedy leaves a young girl with a broken heart and a thirst for revenge. The city of Bilgewater will be left trembling in her wake as she gathers allies and plots to overthrow the one responsible for her loss.
Tags: "Miss" Sarah Fortune, Trans MF, MF is pan with a strong preference for women, Ensemble Cast, Eventual Katarina/MF, other tags to be added
CW: Parental Death, PTSD, childhood traumatic events, unhealthy coping mechanisms
Sarah was crafting her first handgun when the man who would kill her parents walked into the shop.
She was in the back room of the Fortune Gunsmith shop, hard at work on what was to be the first weapon she made on her own. She had been helping her mother since she could walk: carving wooden handles, smelting iron and copper into barrels, smoothing firing mechanisms, and the thousand-and-one other steps that transformed a lifeless pile of lumber and ore into a functioning weapon. However, this was to be the first gun she built with her own two hands from start to finish, with no help from her mother whatsoever. This gun would not be sold to clients - it would be a stock piece for Abigale to show off to potential customers. Sarah's mother had wanted to let her practice without the risk of her inexperienced hands ruining a work order.
Sarah was proud of the job she had done so far. It was far from perfect - her mother could have gotten the grain on the handle to come out much smoother - but overall, the gun was turning out quite well. She had spent the morning working the gun's barrel into shape - heating in the roaring forge, then hammering the molten metal into shape - and was now lowering into a barrel of water with a pair of tongs. The copper letting off a satisfying hiss of steam as its superheated surface made contact with the cool liquid.
In the other room, she heard her mother humming softly to herself as she worked on the special project she had received three days ago. Abigale Fortune almost always hummed or sang as she worked. She was a woman who made music with her being - a woman who sang with the music of the cosmos, and bounded with the rhythm of life. Vicarious and free-spirited, she danced through the difficulties Bilgewater threw at them, and never let the muck make her stumble.
Now matter how many tunes she went through, Abigale always seemed to know more. Sea shanties, play tunes, love songs, lullabies - Sarah had heard so many songs from her mother, she was convinced the red-headed woman had learned every melody there was to know. These past three days, however, Abigale had been repeating the same tune over and over again, running over it's lyrics again and again - It’s been a long time since you’ve seen her, could have been three years or more - sometimes fading to simple humming.
Sarah sighted contentedly. Her life was good. Her parents had made it abundantly clear that she was free to pursue whatever profession she wished, but Sarah couldn't see herself doing anything other than one day running the gunsmithery. ("It's the hair," her father Johnathan would say. "The Fortune family business runs in those crimson locks, I tell you.) There was just something immensely satisfying about the process of building something step by step - something you had poured your heart and soul into making, slowly materializing before you through sheer force of your will. She honestly never thought she'd be able to find that kind of fulfillment doing anything else. True, she wished sometimes that her work allowed her more time to spend with other kids her age, but she honestly had little to complain about - many of those kids had lives much harder than her own. Bilgewater was unforgiving towards its citizens, and very few lived as comfortably as the Fortunes did. They certainly weren't rich, and sometimes had to scrounge to make do, but the city's violent way of life ensured that a gunsmith would never lack for customers. Sarah had a roof over her head, a pillow to lay her head on, and food in her belly. She had parents who loved and supported her - even when she had decided that she wanted to be a she.
She had hope for a future.
Sarah paused, waiting for the barrel to finish cooling, listening to her mother sing as she worked - Will she be waiting when we dock, boys? Or like the others will she be gone? - and thought of how good life had been to her.
Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and four sets of boots thumped heavily into the shop.
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Vi found Sarah at the dock, sitting on a metal folding chair, nursing a Powder-Monkey whiskey as she held a fishing rod loosely between her legs. She approached but did not say anything, not wanting to disrupt the mood. In the distance, seagulls squawked as they flew over the harbor. Waves lapped against the wooden poles holding up the dock. Occasionally voices drifted down from the seaside marketplace, vendors calling out their wares, customers haggling over prices for the latest catch. And permeating it all was the ever-present stink of fish and salt and brine - the unique scent of Bilgewater that was so thoroughly soaked into the stone and wood and people that it refused to come out, no matter how hard you tried.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Sarah finally asked, acknowledging Vi’s presence without turning to her.
“Honestly,” Vi said, “I kinda hate the place.”
The redhead laughed. “Bilgewater’s an acquired taste. It’s definitely not every gal’s cup o’ tea, but for those who can learn to stomach its sights and scents, its sins and its stains …”
She trailed off, staring out over the harbor, not bothering to hide her look of fondness.
“It becomes home.”
Vi followed her gaze out over the murky, turquoise water, towards where the sun was setting over the horizon. Sploshes of pink, orange, and violet shaded the sky, creating a beautiful canvas in the sky - a fiery finale from the celestial orb before it exited stage right.
The two women stood in companionable silence for a moment, taking in the majestic sight.
“My old man,” Vi eventually said, “always used to say that sunsets were what convinced him that God must exist. That he couldn’t see all that beauty in the sky and not believe that there wasn’t Someone out there that made everything.”
“Hmm," Sarah said, not agreeing or disagreeing with the statement, simply responding.
“Oh, he knew about the ions in the atmosphere causing the colors of the sunset,” Vi continued. “Scientists can explain the how. But he always said they could never explain the why. The sunset serves no purpose; it doesn’t make it any easier for species to survive, to pass on their genes. The only reason it’s there is for us to enjoy. That sort of thing has to have intelligent design behind it, he would say; the random chance of evolution could never produce something so beautiful.”
Sarah slowly turned towards her. “Is that what you think, Violet?”
“I … I don’t know. I think … I think my father looks at the sunset, and sees what he needs to see. Proof that his life has meaning and purpose in an uncaring world.”
Sarah nodded, as if she had just said something very wise. “People often see the world through their own lens - one that is shaped by their unique experiences.”
Vi was silent for a moment. Then, abashedly, she muttered, “I’ve always thought it looks kind of like a lesbian flag.”
Sarah barked out a laugh. “Case in point,” she said, too earnest to sound teasing.
#no i'm not shipping them#this is from a larger fic i'm working on#vi league of legends#arcane vi#sarah fortune#miss fortune#bilgewater#short ficlet#ficlet
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Imagining Katarina and Miss Fortune as pirate queens like Anne Bonny and Mary Read
They eventually get captured but Katarina is let off the hook because she's pregnant. Everyone assumes it's Graves' or TF's kid but it's actually Sarah's (she's trans)
I don't know these pirate queens just have me in a hyperfixation right now
#like anne bonny and mary read are so queer-coded it's not even funny#the crossdressing the womance all of it#sarah fortune#miss fortune x katarina#miss fortune#katarina du couteau#league of lesbians#bilgewater#pirate queen#anne bonny#mary read
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