#vilnt

@vilnt liked  this  for  a  starter 

❝  you're  late  ❞ Caitlyn  had  her  back  to  the  door  ,  but  the  she  knew  who  was  behind  the  familiar  footsteps  the  trailed  in  with  apprehension  ,  turning  from  her  piles  of  not  so  neat  papers  spread  across  her  rug,  ❝  and  -  hurt  …  ❞ a  frown  ,  and  BLOOD  ,  up  on  her  feat  in  an  instant  standing  before  the  other  inspecting  the  wounds.  ❝  Vi  what  happened  to  you?  ❞    

The club is a chaos of smoke and sound, dim lights pulsing red and gold like a warning flare. Bass rattles the floor, the music a guttural growl of rebellion, sharp and electric. The air reeks of sweat, stale beer, and that faint metallic tang of spilled blood lingering from the fight club next door. She threads her way through the throng, shouldering past gyrating bodies and the occasional drunken stumble. Her pulse hasn’t yet settled from the rush of the fight—Vi’s fight. She hadn’t planned to bet much, but one look at the fighter had been enough to change her mind. Those fists had spoken louder than words, but it was the fire in Vi’s eyes that had sealed it. Not just anger—hurt. Pain buried so deep it turned sharp, feral, and lethal. Gert recognized it instantly. It was the kind of pain that could destroy someone—or turn them into a weapon.

She slides onto a barstool beside her target, resting her elbows casually on the sticky surface of the bar. Her eyes flick to the brawler like they’ve been drawn by a magnet. Up close, Vi is even more striking, all sharp edges and tension coiled tight enough to snap. Gert doesn’t shy away from the intensity, though. Instead, she leans into it.

❛ Those were some sick ass moves out there tonight, ❜ Gert says, her voice pitched loud enough to cut through the music. It’s rough, unapologetic, but there’s a hint of warmth tucked beneath the surface, a flicker of admiration she doesn’t bother hiding. A smirk tugs at Gert’s lips—half amusement, half intrigue. She meets Vi’s gaze then, unflinching, her dark brown eyes glinting beneath the club’s erratic lights.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 ... @vilnt

WOULD IT BE A BAD TIME TO INFORM VIOLET that she was more of a tea drinker? Perhaps … especially since she looks so adorable standing there, hair unruly from sleep, two mismatched coffee mugs in hand. She’s proud of herself — since moving into the Kiramman manor ( never leaving, rather, per Caitlyn’s insistence ) the brawler had busied herself with newer activities to keep the boredom at bay. For weeks Caitlyn had been confined to her bed, unable to so much as use the restroom without assistance. ( Ambessa had done a number on her — an eye sacrificed, a nasty stab to the abdomen whose stitches threatened to burst with even the smallest of movements, and an injured knee wrapped in a stabilizing brace. )

Send 🧪 for my muse to take a truth serum and have to answer any question honestly from your muse ... @vilnt

(could be like a college au or smth)

well  she  would  be  lying  if  she  said  that  text  didn't  make  her  blush  ,  thankfully  she  was  alone  in  her  appartment.  Caitlyn  and  Vi  had  only  recently  started  to  get  along  and  then  -  these  kinds  of  things  started  happening  and  the  worst  thing  of  all  was  that  she  didn't  hate  it.

She  held  her  phone  still  ,  just  staring  at  the  text  with  an  embarrasing  smile  on  her  face  ,  it  shouldn't  be  like  this  between  the  two  of  them  ,  all  her  life  she'd  be  taught  that  the  two  cities  weren't  compatible  and  yet  ?  her  collage  was  mixture  of  all  over  ,  no  one  really  cared  about  where  anyone  came  from  ,  and  that  was  refreshing  to  say  the  least.

[  TXT  ]  :  I  thought  I  could  feel  eyes  burning  into  the  back  of  my  skull 

which  wasn't  a  lie 

[  TXT  ]  :  you  can  say  hello  to  me  in  person  you  know  …  I  won't  bite

` * 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ... 06. glares at the other with a clenched fist & 01. slams fist onto a table without saying a word ... @vilnt

SHE REEKS OF ALCOHOL , HAIR A CRUDELY DYED DISHEVELED MESS … and it takes everything in Caitlyn’s power to not reach for Vi’s hand as she stalks about the room, hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. The commander stands in the entryway, arms folded across her chest, brows furrowed as cerulean eyes track the other’s movements. The rage that radiates off of her does not phase Caitlyn — a woman taught trigger discipline from young, trained as an enforcer, quickly climbing the ranks despite the protective bubble her mother had wished to entrap her within. She is a decorated officer, a skilled soldier on the battlefield. She does not cower in the face of anger, in the face of pain … It is her job to protect those who cannot do so themselves. ( Vi’s anger was but a product of her own failures, wasn’t it? )

A loud thud! tears through the space, though Caitlyn does not flinch. She maintains her composure, though her heart begins to shatter within her chest. To see Vi in such a state after so long … after how she had left her, deep underground …