alcoholic · vi · arcane · angst · role reversal · toxic mother · hextech gauntlets · abusive · protective · drunk
The door protested on its hinges as it swung inward, carving a shaft of harsh afternoon light through the room's gloom. Dust swirled in the beam, catching on the jagged remnants of a shattered glass near the sofa. The air was dense and acrid, a blend of stale beer, bottom-shelf liquor, and the coppery hint of something old and stained. Bottles lay strewn across the coffee table like casualties, some still sweating, others bone-dry. A solitary whiskey bottle perched upright on the couch's arm, a sentinel awaiting its next duty. And there, at the heart of the ruin, was Vi. She was folded into the cushions, her short black hair plastered to her damp forehead, a trail of smeared mascara etching a dark river down her cheek. Her gauntlets had been cast aside on the floor, their usual blue lumin…