IllustriousHam



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  1. The 100 (TV) (1)

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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Oh, this was fucking perfect. Vi had been pissed since they had spotted the shiny, silver and blue bus that had “University of Piltover” painted on the side in neat font stopped on the side of the road with steam rolling out of the engine.

    Vander and Ekko had gotten off to see if Ekko could help.

    Ekko had gotten back on the bus after not very long, hollering over the music, which had gotten cranked since they were just sitting there, “yeah, they’re stuck. Radiator’s shot, it’ll need replacement parts and we’re nowhere near auto stores.”

    There were a few groans of sympathy, despite the fact that the whole team knew the bus was full of a bunch of stuck up Pilties.

    Vander wasn’t back on the bus yet, which meant…Vi didn’t know what.

    “Hey, Mylo! Can you see him? What’s happening?”

    “I don’t know. Oh, hold up. He just pointed at the bus! The fuck does that mean?”

    Vi had a sneaking suspicion that whatever it meant, it was likely to make her day worse.

     

    OR:

    Caitlyn is the rifle team captain for the University of Piltover, Vi's the boxing team captain for Zaun U, and they hate each other...but they're stuck together until they get back home

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    27 Dec 2025

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    ”This is Vi,” Powder speaks up before Vi gets a chance. “She’s my sister.”
     
    “You think I’m your sister,” Vi corrects her. The kid rolls her eyes. Caitlyn looks almost like she’s frowning as her eyes dart between them, brow furrowed but her mouth is still very slightly curved upward; definitely a politician.

    “Well,” she says, “that’s certainly a development.”


    When a runaway claiming to be family shows up at Vi’s doorstep, what should have been a simple task bringing the kid back ends up changing her life in ways she never expected.

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    26 Dec 2025

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    “So,” Mom says one weekend afternoon as she and Robin stare down the Sunday Times crossword, huddled together on the porch swing, “you and Steve Harrington sure have been living in each other’s pockets lately.” She puts down the pen and gives Robin a carefully-probing smile disguised as a teasing one. “Anything you wanna tell me?”

    Yeah; I’m gay, Robin thinks. Her throat constricts painfully. “I—you’d know if I were dating someone,” she says instead.
    -
    [Or: Robin, through the ages.]

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    23 Dec 2025

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    “Hey,” Vi said softly, her voice slurred just enough to betray her. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

    Caitlyn’s eyes flicked to the bandage at her side, then back to her face. Her reply came just as gently, a mirror of that same effort to keep things from unraveling. “You didn’t.”

    Vi leaned against the doorframe, favoring one side. She gestured vaguely at herself, her mouth tugging into the shadow of a smile. “Looks worse than it is.”

    A joke missing its punchline.

    Caitlyn didn’t smile. She didn’t even blink.

    She wanted to drag Vi to the mirror. Make her look. Make her see the woman Caitlyn had just watched stagger into their home. The blood. The bruises. The way she always seemed to walk the line between defiant and self-destructing, like she thought pain made her real.

    ----

    A one-shot set after the war, after Caitlyn and Vi return to their roles as Enforcers — after a day that left them both gutted.

    A boy died on their watch. Vi disappeared. Caitlyn waited.

    What follows is a fight that begins in silence and ends in the quiet gravity of a shared couch.

    There’s no closure. No clean resolution. But something softer: the certainty of love.

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    23 Dec 2025

  5. Public Bookmark 78

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    “Darling?”

    Vi tilted her head toward the sound, rain threading through her hair. “Mhm?”

    “You’re going to get drenched,” Caitlyn called, half-sheltered on the porch now, expression caught somewhere between worry and baffled affection.

    Vi turned her face back up, closed her eyes, and let it happen. Let the rain fall, clean and warm. Warmer than she’d expected. So many times she’d tried to remember, to summon this feeling in the dark. It had never come close.

    --

    A summer afternoon. A garden bench. A little rain. Vi wouldn't trade it for anything.

    Inspired by this drawing from Qvert.

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    23 Dec 2025