There was probably a correct reaction to your little sister full on shoving her tongue down your throat, but whatever it was, Vi hadn't found it. She nearly got herself killed a half dozen times because of how the kiss tugged at the fringes of her thoughts, even in the middle of a war. Noxus almost felt like a distant concern in comparison.
Vi tried to imagine the conversation for when the fighting ended for the day, when they were back in the shitty apartment that served as home. She tried to figure out the right order of words to shut down… whatever it was that Jinx felt and fix what was broken that wouldn't also immediately send Jinx into a tailspin. Vi imagined the conversation a hundred times -- imagining herself being firm or kind or gentle or angry. Whatever she needed to be so that she and Jinx could be what they were.
Sisters.
Not… that.
But while Vi only suspected that there was a correct reaction to Jinx's misplaced… affections, she knew there was at least one wrong one. And that was the reaction that Vi had found herself giving, which led her to her current position -- face down and ass up on her bed,with Jinx's tongue swirling around her asshole, fingers buried in her cunt as she relentlessly fingerfucked her, while the thumb of her other hand mercilessly swiped at her own clit.
“Fuck…!” Vi wasn't even sure what she was cursing. Jinx, herself, or everything. “Fuck!”
She’d had a plan. When the day was done, it had felt like she had the right words in the right order. All she had to do was say them, Jinx would understand, and all would be well. They wouldn't ever speak about what happened again and that would be enough. Then Jinx entered the apartment and Vi barely got three words in before everything fell apart. Because Jinx was going to fall apart.
Jinx was fragile in a way that it would take the barest of touch to break her. The softest most gentle rejection would make Jinx collapse in on herself, destroying her in a way that there just wasn't a way back from. Vi didn't know what Jinx had endured in the years since that alley, but it had left Jinx unwell in ways that Vi found she didn't have the words to make better. She couldn't reject her sister without hurting her, and Jinx couldn't survive a single ounce more of hurt.
So her words died on her tongue and Vi swallowed them down. Every time they threatened to rise up, she kept them at bay to become a lump in her throat that felt so thick she could choke on it. And Jinx… Jinx took her lack of rejection as acceptance, which led to… this.
“Fuuuck!” A moan ripped itself from her throat, her fingers curling into the sheets, while cum gushed from her pussy. Jinx chuckled, her ministrations never ceasing. Light danced behind her eyes, her breathing hitching as pure pleasure flowed through her veins. Vi’d had her pick of girls back in prison, but whatever Jinx had been doing left Vi feeling like a blushing virgin in comparison.
And that scared the hell out of her.
“You cum so easily, sis,” Jinx remarked, dragging her tongue from her ass before flipping Vi over with shocking strength. Goose flesh rose while Vi found herself still twitching, the after shocks of the orgasm still coursing through her. “I never thought you'd be more of a lover than a fighter,” she continued, planting a kiss in Vi's inner thigh, hooking a hand under her knee and pushing it up to expose her weeping pussy.
‘What the fuck… what the FUCK!’ Vi wasn't okay with any of this, but it felt like she had long passed the point of no return. She should have put a stop to this after that first kiss. Now Jinx was dragging her tongue over her gash, and there was no going back. Vi whimpered, the pleasure was so sharp it was almost painful, yet her hips jerked of their own will to chase Jinx's tongue, who swirled her clit with the tip of it.
“Maybe that's what the abs are for,” Jinx continued, sliding her face up to drag her tongue over Vi's abs. “Cute little cum gutters. You're cute when you cum, sis, but I think you'd look better covered in it.”
‘Whatthefuck…!’ Her body responded to Jinx kissing and licking her way up her stomach before her lips closed around a painfully hard nipple. Jinx's tongue swirled around it, the hand that wasn't pushing her knee up and pinning it to the bed thumped the other back and forth.
“That'd be nice to see… your tits wrapped around a fat cock until someone empties their balls on your face. Then it'd just drip all the way down…” Jinx continued move forward until her forehead pressed against Vi, and Vi saw a pink glow in her sister's eyes. At least until she felt Jinx press her pussy against hers, making Vi glance down to see Jinx's bright blue pubes pressed against her pink ones. Her breathing hitched when Jinx started to grind her pussy against Vi's, making her eyes roll back in pleasure that felt poisoned.
“See? You were made to get fucked, Vi,” Jinx whispered, her hips grinding back and forth. “All that domineering and mean mugging out in the world is a cover for a real slut in the sheets. That's okay! I don't judge! I love you, Vi! I love you! I love you! Iloveyou! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!”
‘What. The. Fuck?!’ Vi came undone in more ways than one. Her back arched, a cry spilling from her lips that was silenced by Jinx kissing her deeply. Jinx came alongside her, arousal spilling from both of them and leaving a wet spot in the bed. Her blood felt like lightning and heat pooled in her stomach that felt like it was spilling out.
“That really is a good look for you, sis,” Jinx remarked in a softer tone before leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose. Then, without any further prompting, she curled up against Vi's side, wrapped one of her arms over her shoulders, and went to sleep. Leave Vi alone with her thoughts, the haze of orgasmic bliss fading away minute by minute, and all she could do was stare up at the ceiling.
There was only one conclusion she could come to.
Vi was absolutely, completely and utterly, fucked beyond salvation. And the very worst part about it?
Jinx was right there beside her.
…
It almost felt like a relief to go to war in the morning. It probably wasn't the best habit on the battlefield, but it gave Vi the opportunity to just turn her brain off and start cracking skulls. It was just her, the enemy, and punching the ever loving shit out of them until they either died or were in so much pain they gave up the fight. It was normal. It made sense. It was straightforward in a way that nothing else in her life felt like, so Vi almost hoped that the war would never end.
A wish that wouldn't be granted. It couldn't be. Especially because they were losing.
Vi felt it when she was on the streets, smashing through squads and sweeping through the houses that Noxus managed to claim. There was an undeniable pressure that Noxus was putting on them, taking the Undercity alley by alley, street by street, and block by block. Their destination was obvious -- they were moving to secure the bridges that marked the border between Piltover and the Undercity. And it felt like it was only a matter of time before they took them because the Undercity was buckling under that pressure.
It didn't matter that Vi stopped their advance on one block because the block over was forced to retreat. With the surrendered territory, it gave Noxus access to the chutes that ran down to the garbage pits. And that gave them access to the deeper Entresol layer of the Undercity beneath their feet, turning the battle into a war on two fronts because the more of the Promenade they took, the more access they had to their back lines. Meaning that one street was the difference between being surrounded.
Vi slammed into an apartment room full of soldiers, tearing through the brick and drywall like it wasn't even there. The armored sleeves of the modified Hex Gauntlets made it easy and with a flex, she deployed her personal shield that had arrows and bullets bouncing off of it. A roar spilled from her lips, cocking back a fist that struck the helmet of a Noxian warrior, his skull shattering with a spray of blood.
She would give the Noxians one thing -- they didn't break easy. A sight that would have two-bit thugs and gangsters running with their tails tucked between their legs didn't slow them down in the slightest. They just dropped their ranged weapons, yanked out their knives or axes or whatever, and went after Vi for revenge. And they were good. Better than good.
In a straight fight, she'd probably lose. But it wasn't a straight fight. As fast as she could think to move, the armor on her arms hummed with power, the servos whirling and there was a familiar crackle from where the Hex Gem was slotted in place. She blocked an overhead swing, then countered with a punch to the ribs that crumpled armor and the ribs behind it. Side stepping a slash, a quick jab shattered the Noxian’s jaw before a hook sent boneshards and blood splattering over the next warrior. He flinched, blood getting in his eye, and that opened him up to Vi dropping low.
A fist to his knee disintegrated it, and as he fell, Vi rose to deliver an uppercut that snapped hid spine and jaw. He struck the ceiling before crumbling to a heap on the floor, but before his body had even hit the ground, Vi was moving. There were no thoughts in her head. Just pure instinct and a burning desire to unload whatever it was she was feeling onto anyone within arms reach.
She smashed through a door, finding two Noxians on their way down the hallway to investigate the disturbance. Arrows sailed past her or bounced off her shield. Vi paid no mind while she sprinted forward, shoulder checking the first, hitting him like a cannon ball. When he hit the ground, Vi rolled to her feet, crotch shoting the warrior that had been behind him before finishing him off with a rising knee.
It probably said something about her that the trail of carnage she left in her wake made her feel unburdened. Like the world was a little righter. Like it made sense. And maybe if she were a little lucky, someone would shoot her right in the forehead and blast every memory of last night right out the back of her head.
But whatever it said about her, no one could say that she wasn’t doing her part as she leaped down the stairs, rolling to her feet and ready to keep on fighting. The Noxians on the bottom floor of the building only took notice of her when it was far too late. They were distracted by the threats outside of the building, the ones who were shooting bullets and lasers and plasma at them. So, fair enough. Didn’t make them any less dead when she was done, letting their people move forward.
The gang colors that had dominated her life as a kid on the streets were seen in full force. Only instead of Raggers taking pot shots at Redliners over a piece of run down turf that no one but them cared about, new and bigger gangs like the Scrap Hackers and Sludgerunners were fighting side by side. The colors only marked what squad or force they were a part of when they moved up, claiming the building and digging in to hold it even if it was by their fingernails.
Vi was already moving on, pressing the attack. They couldn’t hold every piece of territory that she and people like her managed to take. But getting kicked in the dick couldn’t feel good, and that was all the reason Vi needed to keep on kicking. She threw herself through an already shattered window, rolling to her feet to start the whole thing over again.
Only to find that the gunfire and screaming from within the mom-and-pop music store wasn’t for her. A woman was fighting inside of the shop, her dark green hair hacked short. Or maybe burned that way given she was covered in burn scars. They trailed up her defined arms, across her neck, and even over her face. They seemed healed, but not so old that they’d had time to fade.
They didn’t slow her down from committing what seemed to be a complete massacre of a dozen men though. Blood dripped down a katana that she flicked off with a careless disregard before she tilted her head to the side, glancing at Vi from the corner of her eye. There was a deadly indifference in her pale gold eyes looking at her from behind wide rimmed glasses. Then there was a flicker of recognition.
“Vi, right?” She remarked, turning to face her fully. Completely unbothered by the blood pooling around her feet, or the corpses that were hacked apart and spread across the music shop. Violins and harps and whatever were splattered with gore, blood dripping down their polished surfaces, or limbs caught on weird angles.
It looked like a sight right out of a nightmare. Vi wasn’t exactly a clean fighter, but she didn’t tear the Noxians she was killing into so many pieces that it was impossible to tell what was part of who. Still, she swallowed that down. Along with the revelation that despite the burn scars adding a few years, she was younger than Vi. Maybe even younger than Jinx. “What’s it to you?”
“Not much,” she answered. “I was told to keep an eye out for you. If you have the time for it, Head Councilor Medarda wants us to deliver a package to the Noxian backlines.” Then she blinked, as if a thought just occurred to her. “My name is Maki.” No last name, huh?
Vi rolled her shoulder, offering a curt nod. Still, something caught her attention, “Head Councilor Medarda?” Vi echoed, a sour taste on her tongue. She knew about fuck and all when it came to Piltover’s Council, except that they were all blowhards. With the exception of Law. Probably. She’d met the guy exactly once and he did her a solid, but you could be nice and still be a total bastard at heart.
“Heimerdinger got assassinated last night,” Maki informed, sounding disinterested in the entire affair before she scooped up a backpack that had been resting on the counter. “Don’t know who did it. Probably Noxus. Either way, the Council decided that emergency powers needed to be given to one person and that person was Mel Medarda. Don’t know why. Don’t care much either.”
Fair enough. Vi couldn’t say she cared much either. Still, it left a bad taste in her mouth that bullshit political games were still being played behind the curtain when people were out here fighting for their lives.
“Alright. What are we delivering?” Vi asked, rolling her shoulders and falling into step next to Maki.
“Something called the Cloud.”
…
Swain detected a deliberate shift on the morning of the second day of the assault. Things had progressed as planned on all sectors -- they’d pushed into Piltover, and they’d worked to secure the bridges and the Undercity. Despite some… setbacks, they were performing within expectations.
Yet, drop by drop, there were reports of unusually powerful adversaries taking to the field. The mage Cinder Fall had yet to be seen again, lending credence to Riven's report that Cinder only cared for the battle because her lover fought in it. Those reports were validated with pushback. An advancing squad or division that sought to push up a street or block found itself annihilated to a man, followed by Piltover and Undercity forces securing key contested points.
Yet, descriptions came. Along with reports of the savagery that they left in their wake.
A burned woman.
A hulking wolfen beast.
A large purple man.
They were not the only soldiers Piltover had that were worthy of note, but they did seem to be the most effective and Piltover had waited to unveil them for precisely that reason-
“General Swain!” One of his commanders shouted out, entering the command room so urgently he practically tripped over his own two feet. “There has been a chemical attack on the dockyard! It's severe, sir!”
“Show me,” Swain commanded, following the commander out of the room. A quick flight of stairs later, Swain joined several others on the rooftop that served as an observation deck. A spyglass was pressed into his hand that he brought to his eye, aiming at the dockyard. Even without it however, he could see a reddish orange haze flooding the space between buildings and seeping over streets.
What he didn't expect to see was the effectiveness of the weapon. Noxian warriors howled in agony as their skin blistered and cracked, their eyes bleeding before they vomited blood. Their armor corroded as he watched, mere seconds passing until the once polished to perfection armor looked as if it had been left sitting in brinewater for a week. Men attempted to cover their faces to avoid breathing in the toxic fumes, but it meant little.
He watched as his soldiers withdrew en masse, only to die in the streets that they were trying to leave before their corpses vanished beneath the reddish orange haze. Swain's heart lurched in his chest, but he maintained his composure. It was an unexpected development. And an unwelcome one, certainly. However, if Piltover had an unlimited amount of that chemical weapon, then they would have used it more liberally.
They would have dropped canisters of it on his army while they marched. Or into the tunnels that they crawled through. Flooded the sewers with it to remove them as a vector of attack.
Instead, they had deployed it in their backlines. In a portion of the city that they were on the verge of losing. It was a calculated use of a limited resource.
“Order a general withdrawal from the Undercity,” Swain instructed. Ten seconds, he observed. Ten seconds of exposure was fatal. By seven, a warrior would be in critical condition. A mere three seconds seemed to be the limit of ‘safe’ exposure. “Let them think that we fear this new weapon. Prepare the fall back sites for a counterattack. Now will be the time that they push.”
Swain lowered his spyglass, digesting the new information and developing contingencies. For the counterattack and for if his deductions were flawed and Piltover did have additional reserves of the weapon. But, as he did, something caught his eye. A spec in the distance. Narrowing his eyes, he brought the spyglass up once more, and what he saw confused him only for the briefest of seconds.
A blonde haired child in a crisp white uniform floated in the sky above. A contraption that emitted an intense blue light, an indication of Hextech, was strapped to her chest while a rifle was in her hands. A rifle that was aimed in his direction with her eye lined up at the iron sights and a wide bloodthirsty smile stretching her lips.
Then that brief moment of confusion passed.
“Get down-!” Swain roared before there was suddenly light and noise before everything went black.