Archive of Our Own ^beta

The thing about Jinx is: she's a naturally curious creature.

So when she heard the chatter on the streets, about the Firelights' tree being poisoned through an unknown source, it lit some bulb inside her head. Plopped in there like a puzzle piece still unconnected on all sides, for her to turn around and contemplate. And then, after an hour or two of rotating it in the back of her mind, it came to her in a flash: the then-irrelevant notes she had skimmed from Progress Boy's pilfered journal.

And Jinx developed a hunch.

The thing about Jinx is: she tends to follow her hunches. All the more so now that she has no one to hold her back. No Vi to shake her head and say 'no, Powder, it's too dangerous', no Silco to click his tongue and drawl: 'I expect you to show proper accountability'. It's just Jinx now, wholly untethered to any living being, free to chase her whims as she sees fit. And this time, they've led her all the way to the deepest Hextech chambers, hidden away from prying eyes. Where the core pulsates ceaselessly like a breathing thing, pumping toxins into the earth. It's a marvelous, masterful atrocity. Jinx finds that it fills her with more fascination than fear, though it does register somewhere in her head -- in a sort of cool, clinical observation -- that she may well die here.

"If I kick it here, you know," she mutters to Silco's ghost looming over her shoulder, "I want it on record that it wasn't for you."

It's not due to his incessant whispering in her ear about responsibility and a duty to her people. No, she hates that, wants no part of it. And it's not out of some sense of fond nostalgia for Ekko or anything, either. Like she could give half a shit about his dumb tree. It's because she wants to see if she's right. Nothing more, nothing less.

She doesn't know what she's expecting, poking around down here. She doesn't imagine the core will be giving up its secrets so easily. Jinx had scoffed at the idealistic scribblings in the journal rambling on about magic, as if everything detailed there isn't explainable through cold, hard science. But this? This is beyond science. This is out of her ballpark, which is not something Jinx often has to admit. Never before has she encountered something she couldn't remotely define, and that thought alone is entrancing. All the allure of a siren song.

The rhythmic throbbing of the core draws her in, as steady and assuring as a mother's heartbeat, and she takes step after wavering step towards it. As she draws closer, more and more falls away from her: her ghosts, her guilt, the yawning void inside of her chest. The last thing she thinks of-- she doesn't know why-- is the look on her sister's face as her gauntlet hovered inches from Jinx's skull, fury splintering into heartbreak as she mumbled: it had to be you.

Before Jinx knows it, she's close enough to reach out and touch.

So she does.

The core shudders under her fingertips, contracts and then expands, expands and expands and expands until it's engulfed everything on the surface of the Earth: the Undercity and Piltover and Noxus, the dirt and the rivers and the sky. And when it's spread too wide to be contained, too wide to even hold itself together, it collapses inward in a supernova of color and fire and light, burning her up and swallowing her whole.

And when Jinx next opens her eyes, everything's different.

She's back on the Undercity streets, somehow, except they've changed. Her first thought is that it's something in the air. It prickles strangely in her nostrils, tastes heavy on her tongue. But when Jinx takes a moment to look around, she finds something much more concrete to point to: the alleys and storefronts are stunningly bare. Completely clear of her wanted posters and Kiramman propaganda both, even in spots where she had seen them just earlier today. A sense of vertigo seizes her as she pulls her hood up and starts to walk, her every footstep oddly weighted, like the very ground has shifted beneath her feet.

"What the fuck," she mutters under her breath.

Jinx screwed everything up again, Mylo chortles, useless as ever. She tugs her hood lower with a scoff, ignoring him. It's fine. This is fine. She'll go back to the hideout, gather her bearings, figure things out from there--

Wham! A sudden weight crashes into her from behind, nearly toppling her over. "Watch it," she snaps as she whirls around, only to be met with the most impossible sight:

Vi. Her Vi. Not Vi now, dripping black like she'd been dipped in motor oil, all angry fists and drunken stumbles. Vi from before, the Vi that plagued her visions for seven years, with her scrawny build and mussed-back hair and big, bright eyes.

Everything in Jinx freezes, from her throat to her lungs to the tips of her toes. Her mouth works, but no sound comes out. The words scramble around the inside of her skull like a pack of startled strays: are you real and how is this happening and I missed you, and, and.

"Shit, sorry," Vi grunts out a rushed apology, wholly ignorant to the cacophony in Jinx's head. Given another moment to study her, Jinx's attention is caught by an angry red mark on her temple, and a cut above her elbow streaming thin trails of blood. But a moment is all Jinx gets, before Vi turns and runs off.

"Wait," Jinx calls after her, panic surging in her chest, ready to block her path with her body if she has to. Turns out she's not the only one with that idea, though, as a gang of ragged teens filters into the alley: six of them, three from each end.

"Fuck," she hears Vi mutter, stumbling back half a step.

"Didn't think you'd get off that easy, did you?" a voice calls, itching somewhere in her memory.

Jinx frowns. As her eyes skim across the approaching group, that faint spark of familiarity flares into recognition. Is that--? Oh, it is-- it's Deckard and his crew. Some ancient part of her curls in on itself, an instinctive fear reaction, until they come fully into view and it hits her: they're just kids. A bunch of snot-nosed brats, barely even taller than her, unarmed save for the dinky spring knife in Deckard's hand. The kind of people who are only scary when you're a twelve-year-old runt and none of your weapons work.

Well, guess what. Jinx is bigger now. And all her weapons work.

Deckard and two of the boys charge towards Vi, with the hope of grabbing and trapping her, but they don't even get the chance to make contact. A burst of magenta, and she's knocked the two minions to the ground and sent Deckard's knife flying. In the next breath, she's manifested behind him, forcing him to his knees with one sharp elbow lodged in his shoulder and the barrel of her gun pressed to his nape.

"Hey, kid," she mutters, twisting the gun so that the cold metal really digs in. "You wanna try that again?"

All his bravado goes up in smoke that very same second. His hands fly up in surrender, and his voice breaks into a stutter as he begs: "No, hey, hey, I didn't mean anything by it, please," while his friends stay frozen, studying the scene with wide eyes. It's damn hard to get a proper firearm in the Undercity. You have to be somebody. And this is a stark reminder to the group that each and every one of them is an absolute nobody.

To her surprise, Vi steps in, approaching her cautiously from the side with her own hands held halfway up, as if to calm a snarling mongrel. "Hey," she tries, voice straining just a bit. "Doesn't have to be like this." She glances at Deckard, who's visibly shaking now, arms wobbling pitifully at the elbows. "We're cool, right?" she prompts, and he nods as much as he's able with the gun where it is.

"Yeah, yeah, we're cool. Just messing around."

"Mm," Jinx clicks her tongue before echoing: "Just messing around."

And sure, that could be enough. She could let go. Not like he's gonna try anything now, and even if he did, she could blow him and his dumbass squad to dust. But that little bit of Powder that still lives in her despite it all, trembling and knock-kneed-- she still remembers the day of the heist so clearly, how terrified she'd been when that fight broke out.

Was Vi scared like that, too? Somehow, until now, it never occurred to her to wonder.

The thought makes Jinx dig in a little harder.

"How about this. I want you to look her in the eye and say: Vi, I'm sorry." She cants her neck sideways with a hum. "I'm a stupid piece of shit. I swear I won't ever come near you again." A brief pause, and then she nods to herself, deeming this script satisfactory. "You gotta say it with feeling, though, okay? Really put your heart into it. A lackluster performance gets the bullet."

Deckard and Vi exchange glances. There's a beat of silence, and then he starts up, words creaking in his throat like the gears of a rusted machine.

"Vi-- I'm sorry." She can see the sweat trickle down his neck, disappearing in thin rivulets down the collar of his tattered shirt. "I'm a stupid piece of shit, a-and I swear, I won't ever come near you again. Okay?" he asks, voice cracking with desperation. Jinx looks to Vi for her reaction: her face is pale, her eyes wide and dark, her jaw tight. She's nervous, that much is plain to see -- but doesn't it feel good, too, having someone on their knees in front of you, begging for their life? It's the kind of respect Vi used to dream of back when they were kids. At least, Jinx would like to think that's why she pauses for a full moment before giving her approval: "Yeah. Works for me."

An enthusiastic hoot: "Congratulations! The lady is pleased." As promised, Jinx eases the gun off his nape, only to thwack his head with it, sending him stumbling sideways. "Now hop along, rabbit boy, before I change my mind."

She watches him and his group as they scamper away, still brandishing her weapon all the while. Once they're fully out of sight, she tucks it back into its holster, leaning back against the brick wall with a grin.

"Heh. What a wuss."

Vi exhales once the weapon's out of sight, the tension in her shoulders easing some. "Thanks," she murmurs, lowering her hands to slide them into her pockets as she ventures a step forward. "I mean, I could've taken them normally, but I don't fuck around with knives. Better safe than stabbed, y'know."

"Mmhmm," Jinx says, smile slanting lopsided. She remembers this, actually -- Vi used to fuck around with knives, up until the point she got one lodged between her ribs in a street fight much like this one, missing something vital by maybe an inch. Vander wouldn't let her hear the end of it, just as soon as she'd healed. And Powder, of course, did nothing but cry and cry and cry.

That huffy little frown on Vi's features is endearing enough to snap her out of the memory and back into the now. It makes Jinx think: has Vi ever been protected by anyone, in all their years growing up together? Makes sense it'd leave her ego a touch bruised. Jinx can't help rubbing it in just a bit, still. "You're welcome, kid."

"It's Vi," the girl corrects, and then pauses, the crease between her eyebrows deepening. "But you knew that, didn't you."

Ah. Whoops.

"Well, of course," Jinx answers, coupled with a shrug. "Who here hasn't heard of Vander's prodigal daughter?"

"Right." A slightly skeptical raise of the brow, but Vi accepts this nonetheless. Everyone down here knows each other. That's the way it's always been. "You got a name, yourself?"

Jinx snorts out a laugh: a short, brittle sound. "It's Jinx," she says, throwing the hood of her cape back and shaking out her long blue braids. You named me. But of course, this Vi doesn't know that. She watches her without a shred of recognition in those round, blue eyes, something almost like-- awe-struck?

Wow. Imagine that.

"Hey, lemme see that cut," Jinx says, bolstered enough by that look on Vi's face to take hold of her wrist and pull it towards her. She twists her arm gently in her hold, studying the red-oozing wound above the elbow. Vi starts, caught off-guard by the touch, perhaps, or the sudden proximity that came with it. "I'm okay," she mutters, "you don't have to--"

"Shush," Jinx interrupts with a finger to Vi's lips, and her protests die right there.

Briefly relinquishing her hold in order to root around in her satchel, Jinx swiftly produces a small bottle of disinfectant, a square of clean-ish fabric, and a strip of gauze. It's one of those practices Silco had drilled into her head since she was young: living the way she does, the bare minimum she can do is carry some first aid with her. Jinx has always found it pretty silly -- what's disinfectant gonna do if she gets caught in her rocket launcher's blast radius, right? But at least it's found its purpose now, as she dabs Vi's wound clean.

Vi bites her lip, hissing at the sting. Her cheeks take on a faint red tinge as she glances between Jinx's doting hands and her face. Jinx meets her gaze and smiles; Vi frowns and looks away. She's no doubt mortified to be tended to like this, much less by some stranger.

"So, are you-- where're you from?" Vi asks, disrupting the silence. "Don't think I've seen you around the Lanes before."

"You wouldn't recognize me, would you?" Jinx says, grin widening along with her eyes. Being asked that really drives the whole unreality of the situation home, like a joke with a punchline too abstract to follow. At the same time, it makes her chest swirl with pride, too. Jinx likes the thought that she's grown into someone utterly unrecognizable, even to the person once closest to her.

She shakes her head, then blows her bangs out of her eyes. "Nah, I'm from here. Just took a... very long trip."

"Huh." The corner of Vi's mouth curls tentatively upward, the shoulder on her unharmed side lifting in a half-shrug. "Welcome home, then."

Jinx chuckles, her stomach fluttering oddly. "You're sweet."

A short moment later, the wound is all patched up. Jinx eyes her handiwork, then stuffs the bottle in its place with an approving nod, and takes a step back. “All done and good to go.”

"Thank you," Vi mumbles, pressing the pads of two fingers lightly over the gauze. There's a moment where the two of them hesitate, just hovering uncertainly in place. The coincidental circumstance that had brought them together has officially run its course -- this would be the point where they turn and go their separate ways.

Jinx doesn't want her to go away. Desperation throbs in her chest like a second heartbeat: Stay, please, please, please, a hundred-fifty beats per minute.

And then-- then, then! As if inexplicably attuned to the pandemonium inside her, Vi asks: "So, where're you headed after this?"

The frantic pounding turns into a victorious drumroll. It makes Jinx feel a little giddy. "Dunno," she answers, swallows. Tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "Was thinking about lunch. You wanna come with?"

Vi's expression brightens, prying a soundless sigh of relief from Jinx's lips. "Sounds good," she says. Of course it does. It's only the world's safest bet -- who wouldn't say yes to food, down here in the Lanes? Who ever isn't hungry?

And so Jinx starts down the long-familiar path to Jericho's, Vi striding alongside her with both hands in her hoodie pockets, matching her pace. Another silent realization that knocks Jinx off-center: she might actually be a little bit taller, now. How about that.

Her gaze keeps flitting back to Vi's face every other minute. She can't keep her eyes away, but then if she looks at her too long, that pounding in her chest starts up again. God, she's just how she remembered. No-- she's more. All those little details that have faded from her memory are now clearly on display, like the exact pattern of her freckles, the softness to her cheeks that Jinx had chiseled away in her mind. A faded bruise on her jaw and a mostly-healed cut over her brow, no doubt from some earlier kerfuffle. Grit and grime and sweat. She's perfect.

"So," Jinx idly kicks a pebble, "what were you fighting those guys over?"

Vi lets out a low grunt of distaste, rolling her eyes. "Just stupid shit. He hit on me, I told him to fuck off, it got heated. And of course he had to get his whole jackass crew involved. You know how it goes."

Jinx scrunches her nose at the thought. Deckard and Vi? "Ew," she says, succinctly. "That kid's got all the charisma of a dirty old sock."

"Tell me about it," Vi smiles wryly. Her gaze slides sidelong to the holster at Jinx's hip, then up to her face again. "Bet you have an easy time warding off sleazebags," she hums, "carrying a piece like that."

"Oh, I carry all sortsa stuff," Jinx responds with a boastful smirk, quirking an eyebrow. "Nobody messes with me much anymore. And if they do, they regret it real quick." With two fingers held up to her lips, she mimics blowing the smoke off her gun.

Vi's eyes scan the length of her extended arm, from her glinting metal finger up to where the blue cloud pattern disappears under her hood. Jinx thinks she sees her throat bob.

"Yeah, I can imagine," Vi murmurs, humming in thought before wondering aloud: "Is that what your tatts are about?" That gray-blue gaze flits down again, to catch one last glimpse before Jinx tucks her arm back under the hood. "They're smoke, right?"

For a moment, all Jinx can do is stare, a phantom of a smile still hovering on her lips. They're about you, she wants to say. Always you. The blue smoke of the flare emblazoned on every part of her body, forming a signal that never fades: come find me.

Some part of her aches to tell her. But even if she did, Vi wouldn't understand.

So instead, Jinx shrugs and says, "Yeah. I like when things go boom."

Her sister accepts this with a chuckle, lightly shaking her head. "Cool. Who did 'em for you? I kinda wanna get some, a couple years from now."

"Guy called Levi, up in Entresol. He's pretty good, right? Took forever, though, 'cause I got 'em all over." Jinx holds out both arms, and the cloak parts in the middle like a curtain, revealing the extension of the bold blue pattern along her ribs and stomach. Vi's lips part in a quiet little 'oh' as she tilts her head to look.

"Nice," she mumbles, one corner of her mouth curling up into a smirk.

"You should go check him out, once you're old enough to get 'em." Jinx drops her arms, letting the cloak flutter back into place. It occurs to her, then, to ask: "How old are you, anyway?"

"Sixteen."

Jinx's eyes light up at the answer like it's the most wondrous thing she's ever heard. "Wow, you're a baby," she marvels, half gloating and half sincerely delighted. "I'm twenty." I'm the big sister now. Isn't that crazy?

Vi, on her end, doesn't seem quite so pleased. Her face instantly pulls into a scowl, all drawn-down brows and jutting jaw. "Man, shut up," she grumbles. "It's only four years."

"And a world of difference," Jinx throws her head back with a laugh, waving her arm in a flourish. She should know. It's the same difference they've always had, only now it's in her favor.

Before Vi can protest any further, they arrive at the stall, welcomed by the smell of unknowable seafood and sizzling oil. Ahh, the best. Jericho lifts his head to greet them as they approach, offering Jinx a mildly curious look -- not a lot of fresh faces around these parts -- and Vi a disapproving snort. Makes sense. They used to eat here all the time as kids, and paid maybe a solid third of those times. Their group had taken dine-'n-dashing to an art form. Well, that and Jericho's kind of a softie. In hindsight, probably more column B than column A. Looking at Vi's face right now, the way her eyes dart from one side to the other, she can already tell she's mapping the escape route in her head.

“C’mon, Big Scaly. Don't make that face." Jinx plucks a leather satchel from her belt, waves it in the air for that sweet clink-clink-clink of coin. "She's got me to cover her this time, see?"

Vi leans in close, voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Seriously? I mean, I already owe you."

"Owe me what? I know you don't got half a nickel on your scrawny ass." She flashes a grin, followed by a flash of silver coin from her satchel like a magician's trick. "C'mon -- you're doing me a favor, y'know? Eating all alone is miserable. Doesn't get sadder than that."

"If you're sure," Vi mutters, not quite convinced but accepting this regardless. She drops onto the stool, still more teenage gangle than solid brawn, and glances over the counter at whatever stock Jericho's working with today. Jinx looks too, eyes glinting with approval. It's got tentacles. It's slimy and teal. What more could you want?

"Can I get the big one?" Vi asks, half to Jinx and half to Jericho, unwilling to commit to the swaggering persona of just ordering whatever she wants on someone else's dime. Jinx can't help the way her grin broadens at that. How precious! How polite!

"Yeah, make that two," she tells Jericho, sticking out two fingers in a V-sign. "With the spicy? You're the best." She slides the payment across the table, plus a little tip for service. Jericho raises a brow, then grunts appreciatively as he rakes it into his slippery palm and stashes it away.

Paying extra for anything is really not the Undercity way, but it only seems fair to, given the debt she'd accrued as a kid. Plus-- Jinx can't help wanting to show off a little, gaze drifting over to Vi as she leans back in her seat.

"Damn, alright," Vi whistles, eyeing her with one cheek propped against the back of her hand. "Thanks, I mean. Don't suppose your boss is hiring?"

"Oh, you'd hate him," Jinx says with a dismissive flick of her wrist. After a beat, she continues, her smile turning wry: "Also, he's dead."

--Not now, though, is he? Not yet. But the Silco who's alive now isn't her boss, or her dad, or any of the things Silco'd come to mean to her. Her Silco is gone, kaput. And she's not stupid. She knows she won't be getting any second chances with him, now that she's already Jinx. Now that she'll never be his to mold.

Not like with Vi.

"Huh," her sister says, a little at a loss. She seems to consider her words a moment, then settles on: "Sorry to hear it," with a faint downward quirk to her lips. "You gonna be okay?"

Jinx barks out a laugh. Is she gonna be okay? Has she been okay? Has there been a single day since then that she didn't think of blowing herself up so all that remains is her original namesake?

"Oh, yeah. Don't worry, I always land on my feet." She lets her laughter die into a huff, stretching her long arms overhead until she hears them crackle. "S'why they call me Jinx. On account of my amazing luck."

Just then, Jericho slides their bowls over, and Vi drags hers closer with a marked bit of eagerness, already having to swallow. Still, she pauses before digging in, looking at Jinx sidelong.

"Well," she says with a tentative shrug, "you ever need anything, come by, okay? Vander knows everyone. Whatever you need, he'll work something out."

Something about that offer, extended so casually, plucks at Jinx like an untuned violin. She can feel her nonchalance slipping, her smirk slackening into a gape. "... You're sweet," she says again, and it comes out weirdly raspy this time, her ribcage suddenly too full and too tight. But Vi doesn't seem to notice, the whole of her attention already caught by her meal.

Jinx spends a couple moments just watching her eat, reveling in the familiarity of her every little gesture, the way she plucks the meat into bite-sized pieces and sucks the sauce off her fingers. She slurps so freakin' loud, carelessly dripping broth onto the countertop. God, she's real. She's real, and the worst of the worst hasn't happened yet, and she still loves her little sister.

Jinx's face twitches sharply, involuntarily, breath catching in an audible sniff. Oh, no, no. She tightens her hands over the counter's edge and screws her eyes shut-- but try as she might to keep it at bay, the tears push through her closed eyelids, splattering into her bowl.

And -- damn it -- despite how engrossed she'd been in her meal, Vi only takes a second to notice. Her eyes go wide as she gulps, and then she's hurriedly wiping her hands on her trousers, all her focus turned to Jinx.

"Woah, hey, it's okay." She reaches out, hesitating only a moment before carefully placing a hand on her quaking shoulder. The look on Vi's face is clearly confounded, brow crinkled and lips pouted, but she's eager to help all the same. It's not what Jinx wants, to be comforted like this, weak little crybaby Pow-Pow -- but she can't deny that it makes her heart lift, Vi's smaller but already-calloused hand cradling her shoulder so gently. Solid and warm and real. How can she not lean into it?

"Look," Vi tries for a smile: reassuring, if a little nervous. "At least give the food a chance before you oversalt it."

That catches Jinx off-guard, and she sputters out a weak laugh, mouth slanting sideways. The tears stop just like that. She rubs an arm across her face, wiping the damp streaks away, heedless of the way her makeup smudges. "Yeah, the last thing this stuff needs is more salt," she says with a wet cackle, and then she's covering Vi's hand with her own, showing her appreciation in a soft little squeeze. "Thanks."

They linger like that a moment, another uncertain pause. In truth, now that the contact's been made, Jinx finds that she doesn't want to let go. She strokes her thumb along Vi's knuckles, a featherlight ghost of a touch, and Vi glances from their joint hands to her face, lips pressed together mutely.

Jinx is the first to pull back, if only because she knows she has to. Doesn't want to be too clingy. Doesn't want to risk ruining this. "You're a good kid," she drawls, trying to gain some leverage back before turning to pick at her own meal.

From the corner of her eye, she catches Vi's smile flattening a bit. But still, her voice is nonchalant as she responds: "No problem," combing her hair back with a smooth stroke of one hand. "I don't like seeing pretty girls cry."

It lands-- not forcefully, but strikingly, like the first raindrop plopping onto your head on a bright and muggy day. Jinx stops mid-bite, mouth still full, brain whirring like there's a bad cog stuck somewhere. After a beat, she starts back on chewing, slowly and evenly, until she can swallow it down.

"Huh," she says, blank-faced, still turning the thought around in her head. "I'm pretty?"

Vi raises one eyebrow, nibbling on the tail end of a tentacle. "I mean, yeah," she answers with a shrug, her devil-may-care attitude betrayed only by the way she bites her lip. "There's no way that's news, right?"

It's sinking in more fully, now: Vi thinks she's pretty. Vi likes her. Likes her like the girls she used to eye across the bar when they were young. Like the women she'd pick up after her pitfight matches, one arm around their waist to steady her staggering gait. Like Caitlyn-- formulating the thought to herself is enough to make Jinx's stomach clench, a little sick, a little thrilled.

And she can't think of anything to do but go with it.

"Didn't expect you to be so smooth, is all," she says with a sliver of a grin, tearing a chunk of meat in half with her teeth.

Vi chuckles, her posture lifting, chest puffing out a bit. "Well, glad you don't think I'm an asshole, hitting on you when you were just upset," she replies, daubing extra spice onto her next bite. "Would be way more awkward shooting my shot if we do go to my dad's bar, though, so I figured-- eh." She rolls one shoulder, shooting an easy smirk her way.

"Mm," Jinx makes a contemplative noise through another mouthful. She wipes at the corner of her lips to catch a stray bit of sauce, then licks it off the side of her palm. Vi's barely trying to hide the way she stares, and the intensity of that slate-gray gaze alone is enough to paint goosebumps across her shoulders. "Solid reasoning."

Though her voice is light and playful, Jinx's heart is going like a gatling gun, and she can feel the blood rushing to her face for more than just the spices. How ridiculous is that? She just found herself transported across timelines, defying all science and logic -- yet more than anything, it's the thought of being wanted by Vi that makes Jinx's head reel. She could laugh. Still, she keeps her chatterbox mouth working like normal, like the world isn't spinning frenzied circles around her. Everyone knows, after all, that acknowledging you're dreaming is how you wake up.

"I wasn't upset, by the way," she corrects after a moment, sniffing lightly. "Was just thinkin' it was nice, is all. You never get emotional when something's real nice?"

The edge of Vi's smile wobbles, teetering on rueful. "Sometimes, yeah." She scratches at her nape as she considers her words, and then offers: "For what it's worth-- this is nice for me, too."

She doesn't mean it the same way, of course, she couldn't possibly. But Jinx's heart does a little butterfly-twirl all the same, the words fizzing in her chest like a shower of fairy dust.

"If you're not busy after this," Vi presses on, glancing between Jinx's face and the scarce remains of her meal, "d'you wanna-- hang out?"

Jinx's smile pushes at her cheeks, scrunching up her eyes. Vi likes her! Vi wants her! You're going to wake up and this will all disappear like a burst soap bubble and when you open your eyes you'll be all alone again-- Jinx bares her teeth as her features twitch into an agitated snarl, but she quickly ducks her head, lifting the bowl to her lips to drain the remaining broth. Shut up. Shut up. She has this, and she's going to hold onto it for as long as she can, and that's all that matters.

"Sure. Sounds like fun." She sets the now-empty bowl back against the counter with a thunk, wiping her mouth clean one final time. Vi's face lights up like a neon sign at nightfall. "Cool," she says, and Jinx could swear her cheeks look a notch pinker.

Before they get up to leave, Jericho offers them each a bowl of water to wash their hands, which Vi regards with a look of faint wonder. The perks you get when you actually pay. It's almost funny, how easily impressed she is, but Jinx swells with pride all the same. She's never done that before, has she? Provided for someone, much less for Vi. It's kind of a rush.

"So, where we headed?" she asks as she hops off her stool, long braids trailing behind.

Vi stuffs her hands back in the pockets of her hoodie, ambling alongside her. "Well, like I said, we could go to the bar." She adds, then, almost like an afterthought: "My brothers'n sister are probably around, though."

Jinx's blood turns to ice as every voice in her head howls in protest at once; it makes her falter mid-pace, and she can feel her features tighten, but she's at least able to bite her tongue to keep herself silent. Vi doesn't need to know. No, no. She can't let her know.

She shakes her head, blinks hard until her eyes refocus, and hastens her next couple footsteps to catch up. It’s fine. She's fine. She won't let herself ruin this.

Vi tilts her head to study her, concern denting her brow. "Everything cool?"

"Yeah, just--" You're a coward! You can't face us! Crybaby Powder, you can't even look us in the eye! Jinx swallows, shutting Mylo and Claggor out, forcing her ramrod-rigid posture to slacken. "When you said you wanted to hang out, I didn't think you were asking me to come play babysitter."

"Hey, I'm not," Vi protests, her worried frown darkening into a full-blown glower. "We can find someplace quieter, I just figured I'd give you the option. No pressure, okay?" She scuffs her sole against the pavement, teeth working her lower lip: pink and pretty, still unscarred. "There's, uh-- there's this little place we go sometimes, totally empty right now. Better?"

Jinx's veins thaw out at that, and her lips curl upward through a faint sigh of relief. So much easier to breathe. "Yeah, I like that," she answers, soft-voiced, her body slanting sideways until she can bump shoulders with Vi. "Just you and me."

"Right. Yeah." Vi's smile comes creeping back onto her lips as she returns the bump. (Definitely nowhere near as hard as she ever did with the boys -- the difference between playful, Jinx thinks, and flirty.) "You an' me."

Jinx can take a guess as to where they're headed. While the Undercity provides a wealth of dusty nooks and hidey-holes, there are very few places that offer real privacy, and even fewer that offer the chance to impress a prospective date. Still, she lets Vi lead the way, and puts on her very best surprised face as she opens the door to the arcade.

Once inside, Vi flips the lights on, but notably keeps them low -- warm and cozy, instead of the usual flash and flicker of rainbow neons. She grins at Jinx, almost hopeful, as she drops onto the sofa: "Pretty sweet, right?"

Jinx makes a show of glancing this way and that, as if to take it all in. "Yeah," she agrees with a smile, mellowed by the weight of nostalgia despite her best efforts. "I like it."

Her gaze catches briefly on the boxing arena, where Vi's name takes up almost the entirety of the scoreboard, save for the last couple spots secured by Claggor. Something in her chest caves as she remembers the way she'd thrown herself at the punching bag, fists flying in unrelenting fury; how even by the end of it, when she was left breathless and dizzy, she still couldn't reach Vi's old highscore.

One corner of her smile slips, but she hangs firmly onto the other as she tosses her hood to the floor and settles down next to Vi. "You're good at punching, huh?" she absentmindedly remarks, bridging the gap between their bodies to cover the back of Vi's bandaged hand with her own again. Those sturdy fingers twitch minutely beneath her palm.

"You could say that," Vi says, her characteristic boastfulness dampened by-- shyness, is it? It's as captivating to Jinx as a lantern is to a moth. "I practice a lot. In here an' out there." Raising her free hand, Vi jerks a thumb towards the door. "You caught me on a bad day, I swear. I'm normally a real good fighter."

"Yeah, I can tell," Jinx blithely responds, as if she hasn't intimately felt the impact of those fists against her bones, over and over again. She traces her thumb along the side of Vi's palm, revelling in the fact that their hands are so close in size, now, even if her own are still much skinnier and smoother. Made to tinker, not to punch.

"You've got strong hands. Even for a kid." Her eyes crinkle slightly; she can't help wanting to tease, can't resist the thrill of that novelty. But she sweetens the blow to Vi's ego by raising that hand to her lips, and brushing a kiss over her ever-bruised knuckles.

It works. Whatever protest was crawling up Vi's throat dies unvoiced on her tongue, leaving her wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"Um," she looks at Jinx for one sheepish second, then ducks her head with an uncertain smile. "Thanks."

When Vi hesitates, the room seems to hold its breath with her. Jinx watches her with rapt attention as Vi licks her lips, takes a breath, squeezes Jinx's hand in her own. Then she's peering up at her through long, low-lidded lashes, asking: "Don't suppose I can, uh, return that a bit higher up?"

Jinx's brow lifts. It takes her a second to parse the question. Return higher-- oh-- her face splits into a broad, barely-believing grin, as her gaze flickers back and forth between Vi's eyes and her mouth.

Is this real? Is this happening?

"You wanna kiss me?"

"Yeah, I do," Vi answers, soft and low like candlelight, and Jinx's heart nearly punches clean through her ribcage. Vi likes her, Vi wants her, God, she'll never come down from the high of it-- doesn't even matter that she doesn't see Jinx as her sister anymore, so long as she can carve out a space for herself in Vi's life. Whittle away at it, break parts away if she has to, so long as she can make them fit together again.

In lieu of a response, Jinx simply nods. Then she leans in closer; tilts her head; sticks out her chin. Open and willing, but-- she wants Vi to close that final bit of distance.

See, she had watched Vi kiss before. Not that Vi ever knew, mind you. But sometimes, on her better nights at the ring -- the ones where she didn't end up face-down on the floor -- Vi would pick up some girl at the bar after, and take her home.

And Jinx liked to watch. She always liked watching Vi, but there was something uniquely fascinating about the way she got with other girls, the way she moved her hands and worked her mouth. It wasn't with the doting gentleness with which she'd cradled Powder; it wasn't with the unbridled, clenched-fist rage with which she'd struck Jinx. It was something altogether different, a side of Vi she's never seen before. Rough and heated, but not brutal. Hungry and demanding, but giving, too. Lifting them, bending them, claiming them-- it would fill Jinx's throat with such thick, solid yearning she could choke, so she never lingered too long. Just enough to plant seeds in her mind that would bloom into hyper-vivid images later, keeping her twisting and turning in her sheets until daybreak.

She wants to see it first-hand, how Vi would kiss her. How her mouth would feel. Where her hands would pull and grab. But the answer, when it comes, is wholly unlike anything she expected: it's careful and slow, almost meek, their noses bumping together briefly before Vi readjusts. Her hands settle lightly over Jinx's shoulders, and her breath flutters against Jinx's lips as she brushes them with her own, calling to mind the image of a baby kitten nuzzling its face into a petting hand.

"You're so gentle," Jinx laughs into her mouth, her teasing bundled up in layers of airy delight. "What's the matter? Scared you'll break me?"

Vi pulls back, and Jinx catches it in real-time: a hot flush creeping up her neck like the tide rolling in. "Look, I haven't really done this before, okay?" she huffs, eyes darting from side to side in determination to escape Jinx's gaze. "But I'm a real quick learner. You got notes, I'm all ears."

"Oh," Jinx says, blunt as an ice cube dropped into a shot glass, blinking rapidly. She leans forward, tilts her head -- so close that her bangs brush Vi's cheek. "I'm your first?"

Vi ducks her head, that pretty blush spreading to her cheeks, now. "Yeah." she mutters. "Is that, like-- a problem, or…"

Oh, oh, oh, oh. She is! She's her first. The realization goes off like Progress Day fireworks in Jinx's head, blooming blue-purple-yellow-pink. In an instant, it feels like her heart has doubled its pace, and everything in the dimly-lit arcade grows that much brighter, haloed gold.

Because they always say, right, you never forget your first-- and she wants to be Vi's first so badly. She wants Vi to never ever forget her, to have a hole in her heart in the exact perfect shape of her that nobody else could ever fill. Not those nameless girls at the bar, not that horrid bitch Caitlyn Kiramman, nobody, nobody, nobody.

And she can have that. She can have that right now.

It's such a dizzying rush that for a moment Jinx is stunned with it, but only for a moment-- then she's grabbing Vi's face with both hands, pulling her into a deep, heated kiss.

Vi lets out a stifled gasp, caught unprepared-- but her mouth obediently opens for Jinx all the same, hands tightening over her shoulders. Jinx's heart thrums, and she knows, she'll never forget this either. Already she's filing every single detail away in her head with the frenzy of a paper-pusher approaching a deadline: how Vi's lips are plush but chapped, how her pliant mouth molds around her own. Jinx licks across her full lower lip, angles her jaw, slips her tongue between her teeth. She can feel Vi's cheeks burn beneath her palms, the soft flesh so incredibly warm that she can't resist pressing her fingers in, kissing her like she's been starving for it her whole life.

Vi fumbles a bit in her efforts to keep up, her hands grasping restlessly, strained noises drifting out from the back of her throat -- but she's doing her best to reciprocate, still. Her tongue is warm and timid and brand-new against Jinx's own, and what a breathtaking thought that is: that there are parts of Vi she's never felt before, never touched, never tasted, but now she's allowed. She can have all of her.

She kisses Vi until she's out of breath, and then a little past that, until her lungs start to burn in protest. The kiss gets messier the more it's drawn out, tongues clashing wetly, shallow gasps smothered between their opened mouths. When Jinx lets go at last, a string of saliva gets caught on the edge of Vi's lips, and she licks it off before pulling back, winning herself a delightful little whine.

She's still cupping her sister's face with one hand in the aftermath, though her grip has softened now, thumb stroking smoothly along feverish skin.

"Well?" Jinx asks with a lopsided grin, head cocked expectantly. "You like that?"

Vi's throat bobs as she swallows. "Y--eah," she rasps out, still catching her breath. "Yeah, I do."

She leans into Jinx's palm with a sigh, long lashes fluttering. "You're so hot," she murmurs, sounding almost tipsy already, lips curling loosely to match Jinx's expression. "Intense, y'know."

Jinx barks out a laugh at that compliment, caught by surprise yet utterly pleased. "You have no idea," she drawls, brushing the bangs from Vi's hazed-over eyes. Then-- "Come here." She pulls Vi onto her lap with both hands on her hips, a tingle shooting down her spine at how easy it is, now that Vi's the same height as her and half the bulk she'll grow up to have. Vi's eyes widen -- she's far from the type to be jerked around, physically or otherwise -- but still, she moves tamely with the motion and settles into place without complaint, her hands finding new purchase at Jinx's waist.

Tipping her chin up, Jinx draws her into another kiss: tongue circling her lips before slipping inside again, tracing the inside of Vi's mouth, the backs of her teeth. Seeking to map out every inch of her.

Vi shivers, and Jinx can feel the minute flexing of her thighs as they tense around her waist. Oh, good, good. Heat catches in Jinx's belly, fuelled by this new closeness, by every telltale sign of her sister's want. Their third kiss quickly grows hotter, wetter, and with a bit of teeth, too. Peckish little nips and tugs, nothing that would really hurt -- she should make her first sweet, Jinx thinks, if she can help it. It's a privilege few in the Undercity get, and Vi deserves it more than anyone.

Still, Jinx just can't get enough of how malleable she feels against her mouth, and under her hands when she squeezes her hips. She could keep kissing her like this forever -- but Vi evidently can't, tilting her head away to end the kiss far too soon. Jinx lets out an unhappy whine as the contact as broken, but any sourness to her expression melts away as soon as she gets a good look at Vi. She's breathing hard and her eyes are squinted halfway shut, with her freckled cheeks bright red like topside strawberries. Cute. She's cute. Oh, Jinx could just eat her up.

"Sorry," Vi gasps out, "just-- need a sec, okay?"

Right. That's probably on her, should've given Vi a little more time to catch her breath before diving back in, but how is she supposed to help it? When Vi tastes so good, when her pretty-pink lips are parted so invitingly?

"Mm. Poor baby," Jinx coos, sweeping a hand along the edge of Vi's jaw. "Yeah, we can take a little break from kisses." Her sister frowns at the coddling, but it's flimsy at best, and she can't sustain it, anyway. Not when Jinx bows her head and drags her tongue down her neck, all the way to the hollow of her throat.

Vi's breath hitches, then escapes in a punched-out hah as Jinx digs her teeth in. The younger girl tenses, clings to Jinx's waist, blunt nails digging into the bare skin of her midsection -- and that's good, too, a soft sting that sparks with electricity. Pressed together this close, Jinx can feel how hot Vi runs, a ravenous firepit glow that seeps through her clothes. Wanting her. Wanting the same way Jinx wants.

She keeps licking and nipping at her neck, quenching her thirst with the taste of Vi's sweat. Breaking away for more than seconds at a time is unthinkable: if not her mouth on Vi's mouth, then on her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. Anywhere within reach.

The more she lavishes her with attention, the more Vi squirms. But it's given her a chance to catch her breath, at least, as well as regain some of her composure -- enough to let that cocky little smile of hers ghost back onto her lips, offset as it might be by that ripe strawberry flush.

"Damn," she murmurs playfully, one hand brushing along the line of Jinx's spine. "Didn't know you liked me that much."

Haha. What a thing to say. Jinx sighs into Vi's neck, coming out in a low hum, before she leans back to meet her eyes. "I do," she answers, simple and utterly frank. Not a drop of coyness or teasing to it. I love you, more than anything. Always, always, always.

But she can't say the rest of it, so instead Jinx tilts her head to nip at Vi's earlobe. "You like me?"

"Mm--" Vi sucks in a breath at the contact, but nods without missing a beat. "Yeah," she breathes out, voice taking on a playful lilt as she continues: "Why wouldn't I?"

Jinx can't help but chuckle in response. Why wouldn't I. Suddenly, it's all so simple. The anger, the hurt, the tragedy of their lives, all of it gone in the snap of one's fingers. It's nice, to be able to look into Vi's face and see such straightforward, easily-parsed emotion: affection, curiosity, want. Jinx decides she'd like to reward that.

Gently taking hold of Vi's hand at her waist, she pulls it away, lifts it higher. "Wanna touch?" Jinx asks, but doesn't wait long for an answer before placing that hand against the side of her breast, where the skin is uncovered by the fabric of her top.

Vi's eyes go big and round as dinner plates, mouth opening for just half a second before softly clicking shut. Her gaze flickers up to Jinx's face, as if tempted to ask: really? But it quickly drops back down to her chest, too eager for needless second-guessing. She brings her other hand up too, to mirror the first, and then she's pressing in, kneading gently -- slow and careful, the same way that she kisses.

She takes a moment just to adjust to the feeling, her stare so intent you'd think she's defusing a bomb. Finally, Vi seems to remember the rest of the world around her, and swallows thickly before mumbling: "Nice."

Jinx lets out a snort. "Thanks," she responds, toothy and smug.

It's funny -- you'd think Vi liked them stacked. Caitlyn certainly was, of which Jinx is intimately aware, having snatched her straight out of the shower for their little tea party. (She doesn't like to think about that, though. Not about any part of it.) But that doesn't matter: in the here and now, Caitlyn doesn't exist in Vi's world at all, and she's looking at Jinx like she's the eighth wonder of the universe.

The thought shoots a surge of triumph along her body, stoking the fire in her belly. Back arching, Jinx pushes her chest out into Vi's gentle palms with a low, thrilled exhale.

"You don't have to be shy, yanno. You can squeeze a little harder."

"I'm not shy," Vi insists, glancing up almost defiantly despite the blush coloring her cheeks. Nonetheless, she does as instructed: squeezes harder, presses in closer. Jinx can feel her breath on her skin, and then Vi's mouth is at her bared throat, lapping at the flesh. And that's nice. Jinx likes that, Vi getting bolder. Makes her skin tingle all over.

Jinx cants her neck as she leans farther back, granting Vi all the access she needs while coaxing her on. Farther and farther, like butter yielding under a hot knife, until she's on her back against the sofa with her head lolled back over the armrest. Vi nips at her pulse point, making her eyelashes flutter closed, and when Jinx opens them again--

She's met with two pairs of hollowed-out eyes, staring at her upside-down.

This is our place, says Claggor.

You're making it filthy, says Mylo.

Jinx's heart thuds once against her ribcage before freezing solid. She scrunches her eyes shut, but the ghosts' afterimage dances in front of her closed eyelids. Shut up, she hisses soundlessly through her teeth. Shut up. Go away. Vi is here, and she's hers, and she's perfect. They can't take this away from her.

Just like that, Vi's hands and mouth still. She must have felt her tensing under her. "Are you okay?" she asks in a gentle murmur, breath brushing the corner of her jaw. It grates. Jinx can't stand being the object of her worry, of her pity, not anymore.

"Don't stop," she commands, punctuated with two sets of harsh lines clawing down Vi's back. It yields a sudden, stunted noise, as if forced from Vi's lungs before her throat was ready -- but she only takes a moment before obeying, lips and tongue tracing over Jinx's pulse point again. She settles back into her rhythm bit by bit, until she's confident enough to venture further, sucking lightly at the hollow of Jinx's collarbone as her hands seek the hem of her crop top, calloused fingertips slipping experimentally underneath.

Jinx squirms a little, bites her lower lip. Those fingers wriggling under her top tickle, and that's enough to make her lean up and open her eyes again. There's still ghosts skimming the edges of her sight -- but they're there more often than not, and at least this time, the image of Vi is real. Her pretty flushed face, those intent blue eyes, the constellation of freckles across her slightly crooked nose. Every perfect vivid detail of her, barely a breath away, so much more than anything Jinx's brain could conjure up. It's like looking at the sun, blotting out everything else.

Jinx brings one hand up, gentler now, to thread through the thick of Vi's hair. Good, soft, pretty. All hers. "Take it off," she instructs, tilting her head in invitation. "At the back of my neck." That's where the clasp of her top sits; pry it open and the rest will come right undone.

Vi nods with a low hum, reaching for it immediately. Her over-eager fingers flounder a bit, like they do with her keys when she comes stumbling home from her pit fights, and her flush deepens at the chuckle it gets out of Jinx. But it doesn't take long before she works the clasp open, and then she's easing the top off slowly but steadily, eyes growing wider with each newly-revealed inch of skin.

"Shit," she breathes, gaze flitting to briefly meet Jinx's before returning to her breasts. "You really are so fucking pretty."

Vi's voice is a husky mumble of awe. It barely even sounds like a compliment-- more like an internal observation that she couldn't help but blurt aloud. That, combined with the near-reverent intensity of her stare, spreads warmth across Jinx's skin like the sun blooming above the horizon.

"Aw, aren't you sweet," she teases through a grin, a halfhearted attempt to cover up her fluster. In truth, she doesn't really mind if Vi can tell -- it feels good, after all, to know that you're wanted. Still, Jinx brushes her fingers along the shell of her sister's pink-tinged ear as she purrs, "Bet you've never seen a pair of tits this up close before, huh?"

Vi puffs out a laugh. "They're a great first," she says, the edge of her lips curling in a roguish grin. She takes a quick breath, swallows, then bends to kiss the top of one breast. Once, then again, lower, then again, before her lips part to take one nipple into her mouth.

Jinx lets out a deep, shivery breath, back arching into Vi's mouth like it's got its own magnetic pull. The flesh of her nipple is pebbled and strained, and Vi's plush lips wrapping around it -- the feel of it, the sight of it -- it's another burst of electricity crackling through her body, making her thighs clench around Vi's knee. Vi, emboldened by this, sucks down harder, squeezing her other tit with pawing, greedy fingers. It pulls a whine from Jinx's lips, and she has to close her eyes again, momentarily overcome. It all feels just that much more now: half-naked underneath Vi, Vi taking the initiative like that, barely even hesitating. She really wasn't kidding-- she is a quick learner.

"Yeah," Jinx murmurs, fingers tight in Vi's hair. Keeping her right where she is. "Yeah, like that."

Vi makes a low sound in response, and her breath thrums against Jinx's skin with her exhale. She works her mouth and hand in tandem, lathing her tongue over one hard peak as her fingers pinch and roll the other. All the while, her unoccupied hand roams as if it's got a life of its own: skimming along Jinx's ribs, her belly, her hips.

It's making Jinx all kinds of jittery. Her skin buzzes, her hips keep twitching; heat swarms through her veins like molten lava. More and more hitched little noises jut out of her, the prolonged attention to her breasts only serving to make them more sensitive in a delicious feedback loop.

When she opens her eyes, Vi looks so focused. Like when she'd get real engrossed in a book, or in that boxing game right behind them. Her brow furrowed slightly, her gaze steady, early glimmers of sweat beading her forehead. Vi getting so absorbed in her, wanting her like that, it's intoxicating, it's--

She'd never want you if she knew who you were.

Jinx tenses again, involuntarily forming a fist in Vi's hair. Vi yelps against her breast, but rather than let go, Jinx yanks her up, close, letting that beautiful pink flood her vision as she pulls her into another kiss. Wet and rough, almost spiteful, full of teeth.

Shut up. Shut up. Mine.

Vi groans from deep in her throat, but yields into the kiss just the same. Strokes her tongue against Jinx's, unslowed by hesitation this time -- and her hand only pauses for a second before it's back to working her breast, squeezing hard as the heel of her palm drags purposefully over the nipple. Sweet thing, she's doing her best to keep up -- but same as her younger sister always had, Vi inevitably falls behind, pausing every few moments to catch her breath and making little needy noises between kisses.

Jinx rakes her nails against her scalp, and Vi grunts before reciprocating in her own way, teeth catching on Jinx's lower lip and pulling. Jinx hisses out an ecstatic yes at the sting -- she loves that pleasure-pain, how seamlessly the sensations blend together. She rocks her hips up into Vi, once, urging her on. Something so right about Vi being rough with her.

Vi takes the hint, sucking on Jinx's tongue before angling her head to bite her lip again. Their teeth clash together with the movement, but Jinx doesn't mind one bit.

"You like to bite?" she breathes as they pull back at last, tingling lips curved into a grin as she tilts her chin up. "Wanna mark me?"

Vi's breathing hard and her eyes are fogged over, but her answer comes immediately. "Yeah," she rasps out, and already she's nosing in, seeking out a spot along the curve of Jinx's shoulder. "Here?" she indicates the location with a kiss: just above the edge of her collarbone. Jinx nods against her, and Vi goes right for it, sinking her teeth in.

Jinx moans from deep in her throat, low and giddy. The bite aches so sweetly, soothing the voices in her head, narrowing the whole world down to the intersection of flesh and teeth. Her hand at the back of Vi's head anchors her there, to make sure she won't pull back too soon. Not until her skin has blossomed with color.

She wants a mark that'll stay, even when she's woken up from this. Something to cement this as real. Pink-purple-red, like Vi -- she wants Vi all over her, branding her, claiming her.

God, fuck. Even as her grip keeps Vi in place, Jinx's body can't stay still, that untameable jittery energy making her grind up against her knee all the while. More faint noises drift from her lips, barely conscious, every little bit of friction building the fire in her belly higher and higher. Vi indulges her readily, rubbing up between her thighs with enough intent to make up for any inexperience. It's good. It's good. It's good.

But even with her senses flooded, Jinx doesn't lose track of her goal -- and only once she's sure enough time has passed does she relax her grip on Vi's hair, allowing her to release her mouth's hold. It comes away with a slick pop, leaving the flesh wet and tingling. Jinx's eyes flicker down instinctively, though she knows it's impossible for her to see.

"How is it?" she asks expectantly, running her tongue over her lips. "Pretty?"

Vi nods dimly, her stare glued to the mark. "Yeah. Real pretty." Her voice is thin and scratchy like sandpaper, and she swallows, slowly dragging her eyes up to Jinx's face. Her teeth flash in a grin, hopeful with a touch of nerves as she asks: "Me next?"

The question lights Jinx up from the inside, sparkling in her eyes. "So we can match," she giggles breathlessly, tracing two fingers along the side of Vi's neck before settling over her pulse point. She can feel it race beneath her fingertips, thump-thump-thump, a rapid drumbeat calling out to her. And she leans down, replacing her fingers with her mouth, teeth digging in the same way Vi's had done.

Vi whimpers, a soft and reedy sound. Jinx can feel the rapid flutter of her pulse as she licks and sucks, intoxicating in its hummingbird-rhythm. Her heartbeat and Vi's, weaving together in a beautiful discordant symphony. Her skin and Vi's skin, meeting at last as her hands slip under the hem of that raggedy shirt and drag it up. Her need and Vi's need, swirling into a feverish whirlpool that engulfs the both of them as Jinx grinds up into her, and brings Vi down against her own thigh in turn.

Even once her mouth unlatches from Vi's neck, Jinx has no intention of pulling away -- not for any longer than it takes to get Vi's shirt all the way up and off. Vi follows her every cue without the need for words, arching her back for her, lifting her arms up. The garment is tossed haphazardly across the room, and then Jinx's hands are on Vi's hips again, and she buries her face against her neck with a satisfied sigh.

"I like how it looks on you," she praises, studying the bruise from so close up that her whole field of view is an ocean of purple. She announces the thought as soon as it forms in her head: "I wanna do one more."

A tremor passes between both their bodies as Vi shivers, breath leaving her lips in a stuttery sigh. "Go for it," she murmurs, head lolling the other way. "Fuck, you can do whatever you want."

Jinx's lips stretch to a shark-toothed grin, and fizzy excitement floods her chest like a freshly-opened bottle of champagne. But out loud, her response is brief and understated: "'kay," Jinx simply says, followed by a whip-lash of magenta as she flips Vi onto her back. Vi goes down with a grunt and a thwump, and then she's blinking up at her from her new position on the couch cushions, startled but compliant. She did say, after all, that Jinx can do whatever she wants.

Jinx hovers above her, braids draping serpentine along Vi's abdomen and chest, as she trails the very tip of one nail from her navel upwards. She can plainly see the muscles in Vi's toned stomach contract beneath her touch, even featherlight as it is.

"Then I want oooone," Jinx sing-songs, weaving between the notches of Vi's ribs before settling at the top of one bound breast, "right here."

A hint of pink tongue slips out as Vi wets her lips. "Fair's fair," she acquiesces, and lifts the small of her back off the sofa, so Jinx's dexterous fingers can snake around and undo the knot securing the strips of cloth in place. She hums from high in her throat as she unravels Vi's bandages, with all the chipperness of a child unwrapping a birthday gift. She can tell Vi's nervous, a little shy -- her flushed face and darting eyes make that much clear -- yet she doesn't offer a single noise of protest, only tamely offers herself up to Jinx. She really is allowed. She really can have all of her.

At last, the wrappings fall away, and Jinx cocks her head, taking her in from above the way one might study a map. Vi's so pretty, especially in her soft parts, the ones she takes such care to hide away. The sight of her is only second to the feel of her; Jinx bends low, bangs brushing the flesh of Vi's left breast before her nose does, then her brow and her temple, nuzzling in. Basking in Vi's wonderful warmth.

Pressing the side of her face just beneath the clavicle, Jinx settles there softly, and sighs. A memory bubbles to the surface: how when she was small and scared at night, she'd curl up against her sister's chest and fall asleep to the rhythm of her heart. Jinx puffs out a laugh. Not like she could do it now, with the thunderous drumbeat it's pounding out.

"Your heart's so freakin' loud," she coos fondly, and drags her tongue across one perked nipple before sinking her teeth into the meat of her breast.

Vi's mouth opens -- maybe to make some defensive excuse, maybe to offer another blasé quip. Doesn't matter; as soon as the contact is made, her head tilts back in a high-pitched little moan, marking the defeat of intelligent speech. Her back arches again immediately, hips rocking up in a barely-conscious motion, and Jinx swears in that moment her heart thumps even louder.

She holds the bite, sucking another pretty bruise into Vi's skin. She'd write her name on her, if Vi let her-- if she had any paint on hand-- but this is just as good. No, better: look how sweetly she twitches, how red she burns, her hand splayed out across the back of Jinx's head with trembly fingertips. To watch her need so openly is a wonder.

And Jinx can't resist reveling in it, digging her fingers into the cracks of Vi's tattered defenses and prying them wider still. "I didn't think you'd be so sensitive," she teases once she's unlatched her teeth, lapping over the newly-tender spot as she looks up at Vi. A grin, as she unabashedly prods deeper-- "You know, on account of how big and tough you are."

Vi's expression slides predictably into a scowl, bristling like a cat whose tail had been pulled. "Shut uhh-hn," the retort is cut off by an absolutely delectable whimper, as Jinx wraps her lips around her nipple and sucks down hard. Rolls it against her tongue as she squeezes along Vi's hips, adjusting their position by just one critical inch to highlight the pressure of her knee between them.

Finally, once Vi's little burst of irritation has melted to nothing beneath her own want, Jinx releases the suction with a low, pleased hum. "It's okay, Vi," she smiles up at her. "it's cute."

"Come on, don't tease," Vi grumbles weakly, blush growing one shade deeper. Her whole body's like a furnace by now, poor thing, and she's restless and fidgeting beneath Jinx, thighs tensing-untensing around her leg.

Jinx brushes a short stray lock from Vi's forehead; a smooth, soothing touch. "You're so warm," she says, as her other hand reaches down for Vi's belt, flicking lightly at the buckle. Her prosthetic finger clinks against the brass. "I'm taking this off, 'kay?"

Vi bobs her head once, heels scuffing the sofa as she shifts instinctively to accommodate this. Her hands move, too, pawing for purchase at the waistband of Jinx's pants. "Yours too?" she asks, her eyes bright and expectant like a puppy presented with a new toy.

"Uh-huh," Jinx readily agrees, heart picking up its pace again. It sounds like yes, yes, yes. "Just a sec." She lifts herself off of her -- misses the skin-to-skin contact immediately, and so she makes quick work of Vi's belt and trousers, with the same deftness to her movements as if she were disassembling a gun. Vi, on her end, is clumsy with excitement and nerves, tangling their arms and bumping their hands together in her rush to undo Jinx's belt. That's cute, too, and Jinx grins but holds her tongue. Maybe because she's feeling a little lightheaded herself, pale fingertips trembling faintly as she finally pulls Vi's pants and underwear off.

And then, at last, the final barrier between them is gone.

The firepit in her stomach pulls at Jinx, demanding she lower herself back onto Vi's bare body, cover every last inch of Vi with every last inch of her. Yet Jinx's muscles remain inexplicably locked in place, incapable of moving even a finger. She just hovers over her, on her knees, back straight, pink eyes glimmering in the dimly lit room as she stares.

How could Jinx not stare? Vi is completely exposed underneath her, a living time capsule: covered only in the scars and blemishes Jinx was there to witness, her body sturdy but lean, without the height and muscle she'd amassed during those seven years away. No foreign ink adorning her skin, no other girl's touch having tainted it.

And looking down at her, Jinx is once again struck by the sheer, staggering impossibility of it -- that this is something she's even able to have. The sand had run out on her hourglass, and the world simply flipped it downside-up, and gave her her Vi back.

Her Vi. Hers, hers, hers.

The moment stretches on in silent stillness, Jinx's gaze locked onto Vi, and Vi's, too, frozen on Jinx. The two of them stay staring and unmoving, like a breath held between exhale and inhale.

Then Vi says, "Damn, your tattoos really do go all over," with that dopey little playboy smirk, and the tension in the air dissipates, thawing Jinx from her stasis. She laughs, and Vi laughs, and Jinx drops into her arms, pressing body-to-body, heat-to-heat. Vi envelops her in a firm and eager hug, and Jinx returns it tight enough to ache, sighing into her neck: "You're perfect," before leaning up and capturing her lips in a needy kiss.

Vi makes a muffled little sound that maybe would've been a reply, but gives it up as soon as their mouths meet. She opens up for Jinx readily, swiping her tongue along hers, breathing hot and shallow through her nose.

Once they let go, Vi hesitates for one brief moment, eyes flicking from Jinx's face, to her chest, and lower still. She slides one hand off her back, letting it drift down the same track as her gaze: along her notched ribs to her narrow hips, where it stops over some invisible borderline. Vi's thumb brushes over the jut of her hipbone, and Jinx feels herself tremble.

"Tell me what you want?" Vi asks, tentative but bright-eyed. Jinx nestles her lower lip between her teeth, worrying at it absentmindedly as her hand mirrors Vi's own, trailing from her back to her chest, and down to her abdomen. But her path doesn't stop there; instead, it continues slowly but steadily downward.

"Wanna make you feel good," she murmurs into Vi's ear, lightly circling her belly button on the way past. "Wanna make you mine."

"Oh," Vi's voice comes out a squeak. "I mean, I thought…" she stammers, squirming under her touch, slate-gray stare escaping sideways. Knowing her, Jinx can guess: it never occurred to her to take for herself, only to give.

But with Jinx having explicitly asked for it, she certainly shows no intention of denying her. Vi lets herself trail off, licks her lips, refocuses her gaze. And she nods. "Yeah, okay."

Jinx's smile stretches wide and pleased, pushing at her cheeks. "Yeah, okay," she echoes, and with no further ado she leans back and grabs hold of Vi's thigh, to sling one toned leg over her shoulder. Vi yips, eyes going wide as her blush spreads like forest-fire, claiming her shoulders and chest. She's gorgeous like this, splayed-out and exposed before Jinx, slick pink flesh peeking through the thick curls of lower hair. Vi's inner thighs are already glistening with wet, and Jinx feels, very urgently, that she has to touch her right now or else she'll explode.

She instinctively reaches with her left hand, then catches herself, swapping at the last moment. She had decided, right, that Vi's first will be sweet: no biting metal fingers for her, only warm and gentle flesh. Jinx can be good for her. She can be perfect, too.

She strokes between Vi's legs, finally, a lovestruck sigh falling from her lips at the sensation. "You're so wet," she croons in adoration, lightly dipping her middle finger inside as she traces Vi's entrance. "How many fingers do you think I could fit in you?"

Vi's breathing hitches, a shallow gasp that flutters in her throat like a baby bird still learning to fly. "Uh," she starts, stops, swallows. Her attention is all too clearly caught between Jinx's touch and her words, made evident by the way her eyelashes keep fluttering -- a struggle to keep them from closing, to get lost in the sensation.

"Hnn-- three?" she tries, seeming to have plucked the answer from thin air. But then she twitches, tensing so sweetly around Jinx's wandering finger as it occurs to her to amend: "--not all at once."

Jinx lets out a giggle, muffling the tail end of it with a kiss to Vi's knee. "Aw, you big silly," she says, that finger moving up now, to circle Vi's clit. "I wouldn't hurt you." Another little laugh at her own private joke.

Vi's lips purse into a frown, no doubt another pang of embarrassment at being babied like that-- but oh, look, the muscles in her thighs are tightening again, a shiver rippling from her core up to her chest. Her body, at least, is not so prideful as to hide that she likes it.

"Gonna go nice and gentle," Jinx promises with a smile, teasing at her for another moment more before slipping back inside of her. Deeper, now, but slow and careful. Like Vi deserves. "See?"

The only response Vi can offer is a high, wavering moan, hips tipping automatically into Jinx's touch. Her eyes scrunch shut, then open to meet Jinx's again, wide and unfocused as she strokes along the innermost parts of her.

"You feel so good inside, Vi," Jinx murmurs, wholly entranced and lullaby-soft. "So good, and so pretty."

Vi's chest heaves with her steadily hastening breaths, and she manages to hold Jinx's gaze for exactly two seconds more before angling her head away and folding one arm over her eyes.

It incites a small yet precise pang in Jinx's chest -- like a bee-sting, like the needle of a syringe going in. The thought of any part of Vi being kept from her right now is unacceptable, unbearable. "No, no, no," she chides, urgency seeping in through the fibers of her voice. "I want to see your face."

Vi whines faintly in protest, the fingers of her hand curling in towards her palm. Beyond that, her arm remains stubbornly still -- she's never, after all, been one to show vulnerability.

Powder used to think it was because her sister was fearless, impregnable. Jinx knows better. "Vi," she demands, her slender finger curling in as the heel of her palm grinds over Vi's throbbing clit. Once, then again, harder. For the span of these three words alone, she's harsh and uncompromising: "Look at me."

"Ah-" Vi's hips buck beneath her touch, hand tightening into a fist as she grits out a gravelly moan. But her resistance crumbles the next moment, as if made of dry bark; her arm trembles all the way to the elbow as she obediently forces it down, baring her face as requested.

Vi's eyes are slitted over her flushed cheeks, mouth open as she pants, looking up at Jinx with something between trepidation and awe. Her pupils are blown wide, eyes glimmering bright with dampness -- a look Jinx had never, ever seen on her sister's face before, and that she immediately understands why she'd wanted to hide.

It's wholly and utterly helpless.

Still, she shows it. She shows it for her. Jinx needs to swallow before she can speak again. "That's my girl," she murmurs in praise, feeling her skin burn with hunger and thrill. She kisses the side of Vi's knee again, her tongue darting out for a quick little taste, stroking towards her thigh. Salty sweat and smoke and Vi. She sighs, moon-eyed and giddy, retracting her finger only to press back in again. Vi tightens around her with a whimper, and Jinx laps it up like warm honey.

"I get it. It's a lot, huh?" she muses aloud, her voice light and airy as if her heart isn't going a hundred miles an hour. Tamping down the urgency bubbling in her veins, Jinx builds a careful rhythm: stroking steadily for four, five beats, before withdrawing and thrusting back in. Vi's whole body moves with the motion, as if carried by the tide. "You ever think about that before? Being inside someone -- that's as close as you can get, isn't it? Save for cutting them open and crawling in-between their bones." Jinx chuckles to herself, picking up the pace bit by bit. "Isn't that crazy?"

"Fuck," Vi lets out in a precious rubber-toy squeak through another thrust, teeth digging into her lip like a delayed attempt to keep the sound in. Another moment ticks by before it even seems to register that she'd been asked a question, half-closed eyes flickering up to Jinx's face as her brow creases slightly.

"No-- nn-- never," Vi mumbles, another shiver shooting through her. "You wanna be, hah," she rasps out, clinging to the threadbare remains of her flirty persona, "that-- close?"

"Yeah, Vi," Jinx answers, voice low with sincerity, meeting Vi's gaze through shuttered lashes. "I do." And then, running her tongue across her dry lips, she spreads Vi wider with her two middle fingers-- and sinks them both in.

Vi's eyes widen as she inhales, sudden and sharp, before scrunching shut with another shallow moan. Jinx feels her twitch around her fingers, unprepared for the intrusion despite how wet she is. But Vi takes it, anyway. So good and so hungry for her.

"Jinx," she pants out, punctuated with a weak rock of her hips.

And that sound, her name, curls so prettily in Jinx's chest. It's the first time Vi's ever said it like this: marveling, breathless, not spat out like a mouthful of tar. Her name. Accepted by Vi, at long last -- somehow, the sound of it alone makes Jinx feel fuller. Realer.

"Yeah," she murmurs out, a little dazed. She reaches with her left hand, too, splays it carefully across Vi's sticky inner thigh. Like that, she works the pad of her thumb against the swollen nub of her clit as her fingers continue to pump in and out, a firmer friction along the steadily escalating rhythm.

"Say my name again."

"Aah-- oh fuck-- Jinx," Vi whines immediately, too overwhelmed to do anything but obey. Her hips buck in a harsh spasm, chasing the sensation down with growing fervor. Jinx's heart twirls with delight, and she wants to say again, again -- but before she can even open her mouth, she sees the muscles in Vi's toned stomach tighten and her head jerk back, and then she's clenching so desperately around her fingers, oh--

She's perfect. The most precious and beautiful thing in the world. Jinx stares down at her with tunnel-vision focus as her fingers work Vi over the edge, drawing out her orgasm for all it can last. They don't stop after, either, although she does grant her the mercy of slowing, and her thumb eases off Vi's clit for the moment. Just stroking at her inner walls, feeling the little quivers of the aftershock.

Vi comes back to herself in pieces: mouth working, first, to wet her dry lips and swallow. Fingers curling and uncurling by the side of her head, as if testing her motor control. And finally, her eyes, blinking open slowly until Jinx can peer into that hazy pool of bluish gray again. Her gaze is still fogged-over, struggling to focus, and she's still breathing too hard to form any words, but Jinx doesn't need her to.

"Vi." She tilts her head to the side, nuzzling briefly into her leg before resting her temple against it. Her lower lip sticks out in a pout, but her shimmer-pink stare is unwavering, unblinking. "You promised me three."

"Three?" Vi echoes in a daze, blinking twice in quick succession. Jinx can see the exact moment the meaning registers: Vi's eyes go all big, and her blush, impossibly, deepens. "Still?" she gasps out, incredulous. "But-- isn't it your turn?"

With the fingers of her unoccupied hand swirling along Vi's thigh and belly, Jinx makes a show of humming in thought, as if the answer isn't perfectly clear to her. "Mmmm, nope," she concludes with a smile, baring her teeth in a sliver of white. "I'm not done with you yet."

With that, Jinx curls her fingers inside Vi again, slowly drags them out -- and parts her wider with her other hand, to slip in that third finger. She had given Vi just enough time that she's cooled down a little, left loose and pliant and oh so very accommodating. Her body lets Jinx in easily, even as she quakes against the cushions, the small of her back lifting in a pretty arch. Jinx's fingers slide home inside of her -- three, just as promised -- and Jinx lets out a contented sigh, flexing them to feel how the slick flesh strains around them.

"Fuck," Vi whimpers out, staring wide-eyed at where they're joined.

She's so overwhelmed. So cute. And of course Jinx can't resist the urge to press all her little buttons, figuratively and otherwise. "What?" She smirks down at her in a challenge, fingers curling against those quavering walls. "Don't tell me you overshot."

Vi tries to scowl, but it doesn't take, quickly crumbling beneath another breathy moan. She's trying, poor thing, really trying to focus, but she's helpless to resist, spread out and filled as she is.

"Nnh-- no," she manages, barely. "I can, aah-- take it." Desperately clinging to some remnant of her tough-girl reputation, even as every one of Jinx's slightest movements makes her squirm and whine. Cute. Cute. Trembly little thing.

"Mm, it's a lot, isn't it? Poor baby," Jinx coos, pressing kisses along Vi's knee. She can't help it-- she loves the way Vi burns. But she really does want to be good for her, too.

"Tell you what, I'll just hold them still, right here," she graciously offers, her three fingers nestled deep inside, but not so much they'd hurt. "Let you get used to it, yeah? Breathe." She gestures broadly with her free hand towards her own face, sucks in a long, loud inhale, and keeps it in for a beat before filtering it out. Her expectant gaze bores down into Vi, waiting for her to do the same.

"Mmnn," Vi grumbles in response, whiny and shy, but too far gone to offer any real defiance. She resists the breathing at first, fidgeting unhappily at the condescension -- but by the time Jinx repeats her demonstration, Vi relents, taking in a slow, wheezy breath.

Jinx smiles, guiding her through another breath. And one more.

"How do you feel? You like me inside of you?"

"I told you," Vi mumbles into the back of her hand, mindful of covering her face this time despite her embarrassment. It makes Jinx's chest brim over with affection. "I can take it."

"Okay," she answers lightly, pressing her lips together to wet them before puckering them with a soft pop. "You know what, just to be safe, I'll keep them still for a little bit longer."

And before Vi can offer a response, Jinx's tongue darts out, licking a path from the inside of that toned leg all the way up to her thigh. Leaning lower and lower as she goes, until she can kiss right over Vi's pink, pulsing clit. It's only gentle, testing-- but Vi's breath sticks audibly in her throat as soon as the contact is made, twisting into a choked whimper, and her hand flies up to clutch at Jinx's hair.

"Jinx," she calls her name out again, thin and wavering, almost prayerful.

And that's all Jinx needs to hear. She sinks into it in earnest, working her lips and tongue in semi-circles around the swollen nub to find just the perfect spot, the sweetest angle. Vi tastes good; a little bitter, a little salty, prickling pleasantly on Jinx's tongue. It makes Jinx lightheaded when she stops to think of how much of Vi she's able to claim, and even more so when she looks into the yawning abyss of her own hunger, at all that she still wants. She wants Vi down to her lips, her tongue, her teeth; down to her bones, her blood, the connective tissue of her muscle.

And Jinx pours all that want into fucking her, working her clit with her mouth like she's trying to eat her up, drink her in, swallow her whole. And once that no longer feels like enough, she starts moving her fingers again: curling inside to stroke at Vi's most vulnerable parts, withdrawing periodically only to push back in again. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Vi caves under the intensity of it, her every exhale a whimper or moan, a shivery noisy mess under Jinx's focused attention. Jinx feels her rapidly approach her peak again-- impossible not to, as wholly wrapped up in Vi as she is-- and her own heart pounds in anticipation as she guides her up and over that edge. Yes, yes, again. Yes, all hers. Vi's so pretty when she comes, trembling and flushed and shiny with sweat. Jinx could watch her forever, drink in all those pretty little noises and never be sated. She never knew how ravenous she was for this until she could finally have it, and now it's like she could never get enough.

So she keeps going-- surrenders to her hunger completely, lets it take the reins, running on raw animal instinct. She reclaims Vi over and over, pushes her to her breaking point again and again, until every last speck of pretense and dignity dissolves to nothing. Until all Vi can say is her name, and please, and fuck, and then not even any of that, only a series of trembling mewls and broken moans. The boundaries between their bodies blur and melt away, and at some point they stop being Vi and Jinx: only flesh and flesh, and heat and heat, that impossible closeness of slipping in-between each other's bones.

Only then is she finally satisfied -- only then can she bring herself to stop. Withdrawing her wet fingers with a mournful sigh, Jinx licks them clean, just to savor that last bit of her sister's taste. Then she sets Vi's leg back down, softly, softly, before crawling up the sofa to worm herself into the narrow crevice between Vi's side and the backrest, one arm and one leg draping over her body. She holds her loosely in her tired, overworked limbs. Doesn't have to cling on so frantically, now that Jinx knows she has her.

Beneath her, Vi shifts minutely: eyes closed, lips parted, too spent to offer much of a reaction at all. Jinx is content to lie against her in silence as she waits for her to come back down, pressing idle little kisses to Vi's shoulder, the side of her neck. Vi nuzzles into her touch with the blind neediness of a newborn kitten. She's boneless and sticky-warm, skin beaded with sweat like dewdrops on leaves. Perfect.

They stay like that for a long, long moment, until Vi's urgent panting falls back in step with the calm lull of Jinx's own breath. She cracks one eye open, finally, and lifts a hand with great effort, to settle softly at the back of Jinx's neck. The room is so quiet now, with only the faint beeping and chiming of the arcade machines to fill the air. Vi's low voice, all scratchy and worn down, resonates clearly.

"Man," she mumbles, mouth tilting in a drunken smile as her fingers play with Jinx's hair. "Where the hell did you come from?"

Jinx meets her clouded gaze, and mirrors her smile. "Someplace dark and scary and terrible, where everything has teeth," she answers with the mischievous lilt of a fairytale-storyteller, but Vi's brow only crinkles, glassy eyes searching her face. Jinx smoothes the crease out with thumb, first, then presses her lips there. Vi's fingertips flutter against her nape like butterfly wings.

God, she'll never let her go again. Not for anything.

"It's okay," Jinx says, voice soft, as she brings their lips together in a kiss. "It's good to be home."