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me-and-my-hyperfixations · 2 years

Text

Benzo and Vander find out about Ekko's crush on Powder and they both get super emotional about the possibility that they might be in-laws one day.

And Vi has to remind them that Ekko and Powder are Seven.

#headcannons #benzo #vander #vi #powder #jinx #ekko #zaun family #arcane #league of legends

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spaceythangs · 2 years

Text

Perfect

Dad!Silco×Mom!Reader×Baby!Jinx

Pure tooth rotting fluff. SFW. Reader lactates and was pregnant with Jinx so pretty heteronormative? Tried not to use pronouns for reader and will do my best to be gender neutral in the future.

This is my first lil fic/drabble/imagine literally ever so pls pls pls be nice:)) ♡

Silco had always found you breathtaking in any light, from any angle. To his shame, that was the first thing he noticed about you. You were painfully attractive to him, as if you had sunk your dresden claws into his chest and dug out his beating heart as soon as the two of you had locked eyes. He had not expected your wit and intellect, your charm and perseverance to crush that heart to a quivering pulp. Even less did he expect your intense kindness and bewildering mutual adoration for him to mend it all together, until his heart was back in his chest, beating away happily, polished and shining with a finish it had never possessed before.

All this being said, there was something particularly devastating about the way you looked now, holding the precious infant the two of you shared to your breast. She suckled happily, lazily gazing up at you on the verge of sleep. You were in the corner, sitting in an armchair angled towards the large window behind his desk, just right of where he sat now, notes and paperwork completely forgotten. The soft green light emanating from that circular pane drenched you in an almost ethereal glow as you stared through the window before you, absentmindedly watching the bustling streets below and occasionally looking down to caress the cheek of your little one.

The sight made Silco want to cry.

You and that sweet little girl, whose powder blue hair remained a mystery to the both of you, were the reason he was still fighting. Still scratching and clawing and biting his way towards the free nation of Zaun. He would give anything and everything for the two of you to feel the sun on your faces, to see the streams of sunlight currently reserved for the blood soaked tops of Piltover finally light up your eyes.

Your hair curled gently around the nape of your neck as you shifted to peer down at baby Jinx, who with a full belly and a conscious so clear it could only be a child's, had drifted off to sleep in your loving arms.

He did not want to keep you shut away in the dark. Silco's love and their only child deserved to shine with the brilliance he knew the two of you had. Zaun was well on it's way to coming into it's own, but he knew the sins of his past lurked at every corner. The free city he had given his very soul to build would not remain loyal, would not remember him kindly. Silco had long ago accepted that he was the villain of this story, that the sacrifices he had made in order to see his people liberated in this lifetime were not all his to make.

He just hoped he would never be asked to choose between you and Zaun.

The nation would never survive his abandonment.

You must've felt his gaze on you as you adjusted your top to cover yourself. Your mouth curved into a gentle smile, as full of love as it was of mirth.

"Silco, my love. You know its impolite to stare."

Silco let out a breathy chuckle, rising slowly from his desk and rounding it to stand behind your chair. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around your front and tucking his chin into your neck. He looked down at Jinx sound asleep in your embrace as you leaned your cheek into his.

"I love you."

Yours had not been an easy pregnancy, at least not by the third trimester. Jinx, light of his life that she was, had been a bit of a hellion inside you, kicking and squirming to her little heart's content. Although neither of you could exactly blame her for this, she had you in an almost constant state of discomfort on the best of days. On the worst, you could hardly hold yourself upright, cradling your swollen belly and trying hard not to groan at the pain.

There was a day when Silco walked into his office to find you bracing yourself on the windowpane, head curled down with your lip between your teeth, tears streaming silently down your face. You had less than a month to go at that point, and Silco had rushed to you with fear jolting through his veins like ice. Asking you what was wrong, rambling about sending for Singed, turning you to him and cupping your face in his hand while smoothing your hair with the other.

"She just won't stop kicking." You had whimpered quietly, "she's hitting my ribs and it's just really uncomfortable, I'm sorry."

Silco could've laughed had you not been in pain. Leave it to you to apologize for your own misery.

"You needn't apologize, sweetness." He cooed, "let me see if I can help."

Swiftly, he pulled your back flush to his chest, tucking his chin into the crook of your neck. You wrapped your hands around his forearms as he rubbed your stomach a few times before sliding them down to the underside of your bump. He interlaced his fingers to cradle the bottom of your belly. He could feel Jinx wriggling around and made a note to give her grief for it when she was older.

"Lean into me." He had whispered.

You immediately did, ever pliant to his will and trusting of his intentions. He lifted gently as to take some of the weight off of your aching muscles. You sighed with relief as the strain of your daughter's body was lifted slightly off of your legs. After a moment, you gasped and Silco could feel the tension melt out of your shoulders. Jinx had settled, no longer drumming against your ribcage with her tiny feet.

"Better?"

You had turned to kiss his cheek and your hand went back into his hair. Silco's heart bloomed.

"Completely."

Five months later and there you sat, curled up in the chair he had bought for you, looking at him like he had hung the moon. You hummed at his confession and tucked Jinx a bit tighter into her blanket. She was perfect. You were perfect.

"Oh Silco, I'm sure I love you more."

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goddessofroyalty · 1 year

Note

Aughhh your Zaun family stuff is so absolutely adorable I am in love!!! Silco is so sweet with his babies I just want good things to happen to him. If you’re up to it, I’d love to see Vander comforting Silco when he’s feeling crummy and it’s just Vander worshipping his heavily pregnant hubby’s body 🙏🙏

Fandom: Arcane

Pairing: Vander/Silco

Tags: omegaverse, mpreg, pregnancy

--------------

Vander almost feels sorry for the man sitting in his bar after close when Silco walks in, the omega’s mood clearly already sour. But the young alpha wouldn’t be waiting for his boss if he had been doing his job right.

“Don’t,” Silco says with a sharp look at the man, his hand braced against his stomach from the pup he’s growing. “I have already dealt with enough incompetence for one day.”

“But-“

“If it couldn’t wait until morning you wouldn’t have waiting until I got back to tell someone,” Silco says. And Vander had asked when the man told him he needed to tell Silco something if it was something he had to deal with but apparently it could wait for Silco. “I would suggest if there is anything that may mitigate the damage, you go do that. But I doubt you are smart enough to even identify what that might be.”

“I don’t have to take this shit from you-”

Vander is already coming over from the bar before the man even has a chance to finish his sentence. Standing at his husband’s side so he can quickly move to protect both Silco and their unborn child should he need.

“I suggest you head home and sober up,” Vander says, wrapping an arm loosely around Silco’s shoulder.

“I suggest you start looking for a new job,” Silco adds.

The man seems to contemplate his options for a second and Vander resigns himself to cleaning blood off the floors before opening tomorrow. But the young alpha makes the right call in the end, swearing at them before shuffling out of the bar.

“I’m going to bed,” Silco says as soon as the door swings shut. He shrugs off Vander’s arm before heading downstairs in as close of a storm as he can manage in his current state.

Vander follows after finishing his close. Reaching their room before Silco has even managed to get his shoes off. The omega sitting on the edge of his side of the bed and trying to reach past his swollen belly to get to them.

“Let me,” Vander says, coming over to slip Silco’s shoes off. Much easier for him to bend down and slip then off for his mate. “You just relax.”

“I’m not incapable,” Silco spits as Vander slips off his second shoe. Placing them together at the foot of the bed where Silco likes them and coming back to slide Silco’s socks off as well.

“I know.” Vander has never questioned Silco’s capability. Despite the pregnancy weighing on him Silco was keeping up with all his duties in ensuring Zaun’s progress. “But I want to give you this.”

Vander silently massages Silco’s feet. Thumbs digging into the arch before he moves up to rub Silco’s swollen ankles, earning him soft moans that slip past Silco’s tightly kept guard.

He looks up to see Silco’s eyes shut and the frown on his forehead starting to soften.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” Vander says, putting Silco’s feet back down against the bed.

“Of course.” Silco immediately starts working on undoing the buttons of his shirt. An efficiency gained from years of getting dressed and undressed.

“Here.” Vander takes over once all the buttons are undone. Pressing a kiss against Silco’s sholder as he pushes the shirt down. “You just sit.”

Silco gives a snort at it but stays where he is, waiting as Vander puts the shirt in the pile of dirty clothes.

“Are the pillows right?” Vander asks when he comes back to the bed and Silco shifts back so he is sitting against them, making room for Vander to join him on the bed.

“They’re fine.”

“Good,” Vander says, shifting closer so he can resume his stripping of his husband. Adjusting Silco’s pants until they are under his husband’s stomach and he can rub along the base of the swell. “You’re amazing you know.”

“You’re just saying that because you’ve knocked me up,” Silco says even as he relaxes against the pillows.

“I’m not,” Vander says, leaning down to nuzzle the stomach currently containing their child. “You carry them so well.”

“I would hardly say that. I am huge with them.”

“You are. You’re giving them so much space to grow in,” Vander says as he runs his hands over the expanse of Silco’s stomach. “So big with them.”

“Only you would be happy to see me getting fat,” Silco says because even before he was pregnant Vander has been trying to get his husband to eat more. To look after himself half as well as he did those around him.

“You’re not fat,” Vander corrects even if he would be relieved if Silco would have a bit more weight on him in generally.

“No – I’m just carrying your huge child!”

Vander laughs at it. Ignoring Silco’s grumble and kissing against the high-point of the swell. He kisses the path up Silco’s stomach to between the swells of Silco’s bare breasts. His hands settling on Silco’s hips feeling how they have broadened from the pregnancy’s progress, and as he’s been informed arching as a result.

“All of this for our pup,” Vander mutters against Silco’s skin. “And you’re working so hard to give them a good life.”

“Nice to see you recognizing my work.”

“I’ve always recognized your work.” Vander’s brilliant husband – vicious and clever and unafraid to get his hands dirty if needed.

Silco hums at it non-committaly. His hands coming to rest on Vander’s shoulders but otherwise seeming content to let Vander explore his body.

“Your child’s getting hungry,” Silco says suddenly. It’s always Vander’s child and never him. Silco liking to act as if he is too busy for the basic care his body needs.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll make it.” Or get it, although Vander has made it his business to learn all of Silco’s favorite dishes.

“Just something simple,” Silco says, his hands moving from Vander’s shoulders to rest on the bed. “They seem to hate most foods and are making me suffer for it.”

“Alright, something simple.” Vander presses a kiss against Silco’s forehead as he gets up. “You just stay here. No more work tonight.”

Silco gives him an unimpressed look as he leaves but does look set in the bed, relaxed against the pillows with his hands resting on his stomach. He might actually still be there when Vander gets back. If Vander’s lucky.

#Arcane #Vanco #Vander Arcane #Silco Arcane #Arcane omegaverse #Arcane mpreg #mpreg #omegaverse #I accidently a ficlet #Anon prompt #Q and A with the Goddess #Anon question #Prompt fill #prompt fic #Zaun Family

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justincorrectarcanequotes · 2 years

Conversation

Silco: So, who broke it? I’m not angry, I just want to know.

Vander: I did it, I broke it.

Silco: No, no you didn’t. Jinx?

Jinx: Don’t look at me, look at Ekko.

Ekko: What?! I didn’t break it.

Jinx: Huh, that’s weird, then how did you even know it was broken?

Ekko: Because it’s sitting right in front of us and it’s broken!

Jinx: Suspicious.

Ekko: No, it’s not!

Viktor: If it matters, probably not... Vi was the last one to use it.

Vi: Liar! I don’t even drink that shit!

Viktor: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?

Vi: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Viktor!

Vander: Alright let’s not fight. I broke it, let me pay for it, Silco.

Silco: No, who broke it?

Jinx: [whispering] Silco, Sevika has been awfully quiet.

Sevika: Really?

Jinx: Yeah, really!

[later]

Silco: I broke it, it burned my hand so I punched it. I predict ten minutes from now, they’ll be at each others throats with war paint on their faces and a pig's head on a stick. Good, it was getting a little too chummy around here.

#source: parks and rec #silco arcane #vander arcane #jinx arcane #ekko arcane #viktor arcane #vi arcane #sevika arcane #zaun family

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kikiiswashere · 1 month

Text

Children of Zaun - Chapter 23

Pairing: Silco/Fem!OC

Rating: Explicit

Story Warnings: Canon typical violence, drug use/dealing, dark themes, smut

Chapter Summary: Katya patches Silco up. Enyd is very distaught when her son comes home with a battered face. She becomes even more upset when she hears why, and decides to pay Katya a visit.

Previous Chapter

Word Count: 6.1K

The silence in Katya’s head was quickly overtaken by the vicious and mighty rush of blood in her ears, the thundering of her heart in her chest. Her stomach twisted and squeezed.

She stared at where Kells had been, skin going cold. She felt an urge to crawl to the edge of the turbine blade and peek over. Was the pit deep enough that the shadows would blanket his body? Was the fall so great that he would be left down there, an extraction deemed too costly and unsafe to retrieve him?

The gentle call of her name pulled her from her clamoring thoughts. Her head snapped away from the blade’s edge over to Silco. He was propped on his knees and hands watching her intently. Katya’s eyes flicked over his head to see the entire fissure’s unit huddled along the edge of the turbine’s chasm, staring at them with dirty, pale faces and wide eyes. They were muttering amongst themselves, she realized. Their voices slid into her ears, crawled under her skin.

Silco called for her again, and her eyes were pulled back to him. She took in his bloody face, how his nose was bent, his eyelids and cheeks already beginning to swell and discolor. How blood dribbled freely from his mouth and nose. Despite all this, he looked at her like she was the one to be worried about.

“What’s happenin’? Wha’s goin’ on?” Foreman Baz yelled, muscling his way through the crowd.

He stopped at the edge of the cliff, taken aback by the sight of the pair on the blade. Katya looked at him with a fearful, tear-stained, and scraped up face; Silco with his beaten and bloodied one.

“One of the miners was attacking them!” a small voice piped up.

Both Baz and Katya looked over and saw the young teen she’d been called down there to patch up. His glossy dark eyes flitted to her and back to the foreman. Baz looked to the boy, back to Katya, then to Silco.

When no one refuted what the boy had said, Baz shifted agitatedly and ordered, “Help him up! Get them to medical!”

A few of the miners nearest to the blade stepped forward, and lifted Silco up by the armpits, hoisting him onto unsteady feet. One of them approached Katya, and she waved him away, scrabbling onto her own legs. She stumbled after the pair that had Silco slung between them. She kept her eyes on his back as she followed, keenly aware of the probing, curious eyes on her.

Katya did not remember the trek back to the medical clinic. One moment, she was in Fissure 27, the next she was in the cool light of the exam room. The miners who had carried Silco placed him on the table and whispered to him.

Belatedly, Katya realized they were members of the Children. She didn’t know them by name, but knew their faces. They assured Silco that they would make sure to spin Kells’s death in his favor; that there would be no trouble, no word about it after today.

They hurried back to the fissure, ready to fulfill the task before them. The room was quiet. The clock on the wall ticked and ticked.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Katya muttered, going to the small sink.

Her hands trembled beneath the faucet. The soap fell from her hands multiple times as she attempted to wash them. She tried to breathe, tried to steady herself. Closing her eyes, she gripped the soap like she might’ve gripped Kells’s throat had her body not locked in fear. Like when the Enforcer attacked her papa.

“Kat.”

His voice sent a shiver up her spine. She ignored him, drying her hands and riffling through the cabinets in search of her tools.

“You need to get patched up,” she mumbled, gathering gauze, a small splint, and rubbing alcohol. “Your nose needs to be set before it becomes even more painful to do so.”

“Kat. Kat wait,” Silco grit, his voice pained and nasally.

He reached for her wrist and she lurched back, dropping the supplies in her arms. Silco retracted quickly, murmuring an apology. She gave a perfunctory nod before ducking down, and gathering her tools. She set them next to him.

“You are alright to sit up?”

Her eyes were on him, but she wasn’t looking at him. Silco’s chest caved at the vacantness of her face. He gave a small nod – it was as much movement his head would allow without causing spikes of pain to radiate through his skull.

Katya softly muttered what she was doing while tending to him, but he only part-listened. Barely a wince pulled at his lips as she wiped away the blood on his face, as she inspected the gash across the bridge of his nose. She explained she couldn’t stitch it shut, that there was too little flesh to suture together. She’d use a butterfly bandage.

The sensation of the edges of his skin being pulled toward each other sent his insides crawling. It reawakened that small spark of rage that had risen in him when he’d first seen Kells holding Katya to the wall. He’d finished working the engine of the excavator, and jogged to the fissure over to see her. A group of sullen looking teens had pointed him toward a small crack in the rock near the turbine, and he went.

If he hadn’t went . . .

His body shuddered with fury. Katya thought she did something and apologized.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” he was quick to say. He noticed how speaking was becoming painful. How his teeth ached at the roots. His blue eyes, filled with cold fire, locked onto hers, and she finally looked at him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

There was a long moment where their gazes remained tethered. Silco willing his words to sink in, Katya trying to let them.

“Your nose is broken,” she finally said. Her voice was hoarse and quiet. “I need to set it.”

Carefully and swiftly – her hands having stopped their trembling in the comfort of performing familiar tasks – she placed a small splint on either side of his nose, taped them down, and then covered the whole thing with a pad of gauze.

She turned her attention next to his mouth. A deep cut had split the left side of his upper lip. Blood was beginning to clot, but still dribbled down his chin in a bright crimson river.

“I will need to sew this.” She eyed it carefully, assessing. “It’s most likely going to scar.”

She gathered a sterile needle and thread, and an empty syringe. She stuck its needle into the membrane of a dark bottle and explained, “This is local anesthetic. Open your mouth slightly.”

Silco did so. He bit back a grunt when the needle pierced his swollen lip. Then the sense of his lip fuzzed out, and disappeared into the haze of the drug. He fought the urge to poke at it.

Katya brought thread and needle up to his mouth, and began suturing the split together with expert quickness. While he couldn’t feel his lip, he could feel the pull of the thread and pressure of the needle. The process didn’t hurt, but the ghostly sense of the thread’s pull and needle’s point made him feel nauseous. His mouth watered and bile rose at the back of his throat.

“Do you need to vomit?” Katya asked, watching his eyes fog over and shoulders sway.

Silco shook his head. A mistake, it turned out. The motion loosened the already shaky hold his stomach had, and he pitched over. Luckily, Katya was fast, and had placed a small wastebin under his face before the sick gushed from his mouth. As he retched, she held his hair back and stroked a hand up and down his spine.

When it passed, Katya let go of his hair and placed a hand over his heart. “We’re going to sit you back up now. Go slow.”

Silco’s vision swam as he was guided back up. He winced as the ache and pressure in his skull jostled and thudded during the movement. As if his brains had turned to jelly and sloshed freely and heavily in his skull.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not unusual for such a response after something stressful. You are also most likely concussed, which would cause that reaction, too. Here, I need to knot and clean those sutures.”

She doused a small cotton round with rubbing alcohol and gently pressed it to the stitches on his upper lip. Silco hissed and grimaced, and then winced further when the expression caused a great swell of pain to ripple across his face.

Katya tossed the sodden pad in the wastebin, and finished tying off the small line of stitches. She then turned to the room’s sink, and filled a small cup with water, before handing it to him.

“Swish, then spit into the sink.”

It hurt, but Silco did so. He watched as blood swirled down the drain, and then sat back on the exam table. Katya’s hand at his back the whole time. But he wasn’t soothed by it. Despite her attentiveness, she felt distant. He knew, and understood, that it was an unconscious defense mechanism on her part; keeping her safe and separate from what had happened in the fissure.

Had his mother behaved similarly in the days following her own assault?

Silco muscled that thought back. It was too much. And he wasn’t the one who needed sturdiness right now. Katya was.

But she was closed off.

He could feel it. And he wanted in. Wanted to take care of her.

“Kat – “

“Open your mouth,” she instructed.

Silco did so, and Katya leaned forward, inspecting.

“Your two front teeth have been chipped.”

She stood back up, and turned to one of the upper cabinets. Reflexively, Silco ran his tongue over his teeth, and shuddered at the roughened edges of his incisors. Embarrassment joined the sickening ache in his body.

“It’s not too bad,” Katya said, returning with a bottle of pills in her hand. She gave them to him and explained, “Painkillers. Take two as needed every four hours. Ideally with food. If you can, take the next few days off and keep the apartment dark. Avoid looking at or reading anything too intensely. It’ll help with the concussion.”

While he was grateful for her expertise, Katya’s perfunctory motions and monotone voice continued to madden and scare him. He could feel her slipping away. Retreating from him.

Instead of grabbing for the pill bottle, he gripped her hands.

“Kat,” he pleaded. She jolted beneath his hold. He internally winced at it, but couldn’t bring himself to release her. She looked at him, her eyes big and glassy. He swallowed, unsure of what to say now that he had her attention. “Just . . . stop for a moment.”

She blinked. And then her body tensed. She didn’t want to stop. Doing her job allowed her mind to settle into the rut of monotony, instead of replaying what had happened in Fissure 27. Stopping meant having to feel the fear and shame rattle through her bones. Stopping meant having to listen to the hateful and disparaging voices pounding in her head. They became clearer the longer she stood still. Voices that insisted that what had happened in the fissure was her fault.

Her fault because she’d deviated from the quiet, monotonous life she’d set up for her and her brother. She had stupidly stepped into the open arms of the Children of Zaun. Had gone from a solitary, anonymous life to one of community, and it had gotten her sexually assaulted. The tentative understanding and belief in her own value, her own hopes and desires were dashed.

Were not worth it.

Were nothing.

Silco gently pulled on her hands and she jumped back into the moment. She stared at him, no longer sure what she was looking at. He had brought her into the Children’s fold, and adamantly spoken of her and Zaun’s inherent value.

She didn’t blame him.

She blamed herself for not keeping herself safe.

“Why did you come for me?” Katya heard her speak the words, but had no sense of doing it. They suddenly just floated in the space between them.

Despite his swelling eyelids, Silco’s eyes widened. His mouth gaped, those two newly chipped teeth peeking out from under his stitched lip.

He was hurt because of her. Tears began to burn at the corners of her eyes. Her heart began to jump and tap the longer she stood still. Her legs trembled.

“I – because,” Silco stumbled.

The clinic door suddenly creaked open. They both jumped, Katya ripping her hands from Silco’s hold.

“Katya?” Will called.

Katya busied herself at the exam room’s counter. “In here. With a patient.”

Silco watched sadly as Katya retreated, absentmindedly fussing with a canister of cotton balls. A moment later, Will peered into the room. He couldn’t contain his gasp when he saw Silco.

“What happened?”

“A fight,” Katya answered, adjusting the jar of tongue depressors before turning around.

She set her hips against the counter and folded her arms tightly across her chest. Will’s eyes widened as he took in her dirtied clothes and scuffed up face.

“I just finished patching him, and giving the medication instructions.” There was a pause, and then she spoke in Silco’s direction. “You’re able to go. Do you think you can get home, or should I call for ‘Vika?”

Silco’s voice stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to leave. But he also did not want her cross with him.

Finally, he mumbled, “I can get home on my own.”

Katya’s lips thinned and she nodded, not looking him in the eye. “Put ice on your nose and lip when you get home. It will help with the pain and swelling.”

Silco looked at her for a moment longer before gingerly slipping off the exam table. He limped passed Will, who watched him with careful, distrusting eyes.

It was late enough now that Silco’s shift had ended. He didn’t care to go find Sevika or anyone else who could let him know what was happening in the way of Kells, and the story that was being spun. Slowly, he made his way for the lift, ignoring the mutters and looks that swirled around him as he went.

A bone-deep ache settled into his body as he walked away from the mines. His hands throbbed and he winced as his back repeatedly squeezed in small spasms with every other step. But it was nothing compared to his face and head.

Nothing compared to the sinking feeling in his chest.

His feet carried him home, slow and sluggish. He leaned into the door as he shuffled inside the apartment. A warm, scratchy horn piece softly bled from the gramophone, his mother’s humming accompanying it. Silco slipped off his shoes and limped toward his bedroom.

“Silco?”

He knew it was pointless, but he didn’t answer her and tried to shuffle as quickly as he could down the hall.

“Silco? Are you home? – “

Enyd’s voice guttered and dropped as Silco hobbled past the doorway. She could see that something was obviously wrong with his gait, but her heart plummeted at the sight of his face. Hurriedly, she set her sewing aside, leapt from her rocker, and followed him down the hall.

“Silco!”

He grimaced, but kept the course to his room. Until his mother closed the space between them, grabbed a hold of his arm, and spun him around. She gasped and tears immediately welled up in her eyes.

“Wh-what happened?”

“I’m fine. I have medicine for it,” he muttered, gently shaking the pill bottle in his hand.

He went to turn away from her again, but Enyd reached up and gently cupped his jaw. Silco gasped in pain and dropped the bottle. It hit the wood floor with a thud and rolled away.

“What happened?”

“It – Just a fight at work.”

“You need ice. Come with me.”

Too hurt and tired to argue, Silco let his mother lead him back down the hall toward the kitchen. She scooped up the pill bottle as they went.

She placed him on one of the dining table chairs, and flipped the overhead light on. Silco grunted and squinted at the brightness. His stomach curdled.

. . . keep the apartment dark . . .

Before he could say anything, Enyd was on him, worriedly inspecting the bandages over his nose, the stitches in his upper lip, and the intense bruising and swelling around his eyelids and cheeks. Her breathing was shallow and watery, her eyebrows pitched upward with intense concern.

“Janna’s sake, Silco,” Enyd whispered. Her eyelids fluttered, and the tears that had been shelved on her lower lids trickled down her pale cheeks.

She turned and went to the icebox, pulling out a tray of frozen cubes. A clean teacloth from a drawer near the stove was fetched, and the ice was dumped into it. Pinching its corners up, she created a small sack, and brought it to him.

As she gently pressed it to his nose and mouth, Silco hissed at the biting cold and tried to jerk his head away. Despite the concern trembling through her limbs, Enyd stayed solid and held the ice to his face regardless.

Silco’s hand quivered, and he propped an elbow on the table to steady himself. Slowly, his other hand reached up to hold the ice to his sore face. Enyd extricated her hand, and returned to the kitchen. She filled a glass with water, and brought it to the table, sitting in the chair next to her son.

“Mum,” Silco finally croaked, “would you turn the light off? It . . . hurts.”

Enyd stepped to the wall and slapped the light switch. Silco’s shoulders sagged in relief as the kitchen and dining area fell into shadow; the only light the soft, warm glow of the lamp by his mother’s rocking chair in the room over.

“Silco,” Enyd whispered as she took up her seat again, “what happened?”

Her hands slid across the table, but stopped short of touching him. Her eyes were wide, fear threatened to collapse her lungs. Scared, angry voices began hissing in her ears – the same ones that had initially flooded her when she had learned of the Children of Zaun.

Today he came home with a broken nose and beaten face; what if next time he came home with a bullet wound? What if next time he didn’t come home at all?

Silco swallowed, his throat clicking. His breaths became shorter, shallower as he thought back to what he had seen in that small crack in the cave wall. Kells pinning Katya against the rocks, one hand tangled in her hair, the other snaked between her thighs. He had watched in rage and disgust as Kells’s hips slowly undulated against Katya’s backside.

Rage flooded him, sent his heart pounding. The wrath was not the same as the variety he wielded at Piltover. This was something different. Something somehow deeper, more personal.

“Another miner assaulted Kat today,” he finally said. “One of the Children.”

Enyd’s eyes widened and her body went cold. She couldn’t find her breath. Her hands and feet began to shake. A memory flashed in her head. Of her and Katya sitting in one of The Drop’s booths after a meeting. She had sneered at a blond young man who had ogled back at her.

“I – I walked in on him holding her against the wall,” Silco recounted, his voice a low scrape. “Forcing himself on her.” He swallowed again and said, “I attacked him.”

Enyd wiped at her eyes, chin wobbling horribly. Her breath had come back, but in small hiccups.

“I wanted to beat him into the dirt until he wasn’t recognizable,” Silco admitted, “but I knew I needed to get Kat out of there. Away from him.” He paused, mouth gaping for a moment before he quietly said, “I wished someone had done the same for you. Had noticed and come to help.”

A small sob burst through Enyd’s teeth and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Tears streamed down her face. She nodded. She wished that, too.

“But he got up and swung a length of track at us,” he rustled the ice against his face. “He got me. I – I went for him again, and – I don’t remember it happening – but we ended up on one of the turbine blades. He hit me with a rock,” Silco gestured to the side of his head where his hair was matted to his temple with dried blood.

Enyd sobbed, her fingers twitching horribly. They itched to gather him up, to do something.

“He tried again, but then Kat appeared and pushed him off me. Pushed him off the turbine.”

Enyd held her breath, her thrashing heart stilling, fingers going rigid. She watched as, even through the bruises and cuts on his face, a myriad of emotions washed over him. She could see him trying to snatch up any one thing to feel.

He finally settled on anger.

“If he hadn’t fallen,” Silco grit, barely tethered rage seething through his bloodied teeth, “I would’ve killed him. I wanted to kill him.”

A shiver trickled down Enyd’s spine. She gawped at her boy. Part of her insisted that he was wrong, that this wasn’t him; but another part – a hurt and vengeful part – was irrevocably grateful for what he’d done. Him wanting to kill Katya’s assaulter soothed her, soothed the traumatized seventeen-year-old who had been left in a dark mine tunnel, her skirts ripped, a tearing ache between her thighs, and semen dripping down her legs.

She was proud of him. And that silenced the part that tried to assert his actions, his desire, was wrong.

Finally, Enyd took up Silco’s free hand in both of hers. She kissed his bloody and swollen knuckles before resting her forehead against them.

Will had tried to convince Katya to let him attend to her. He eyed her scratched face and disheveled clothes worriedly. She refused, promising that she was fine. And that Silco had nothing to do with the state she was in.

Will was unconvinced, insisting that he help her. She had jerked away from his well-meaning hands, and yelled at him to leave her alone.

“I will not be in tomorrow,” was all she said before she grabbed her coat and left. Leaving behind all the supplies she had set aside for the Children and for Enyd.

She pulled the large lapels of her coat up around her head, using them as blinders as she silently walked home. She didn’t hear the city around her. She didn’t know if people called out to her. She didn’t even know if she passed any Enforcers. She focused on the feel of her boots striking the cobblestones, on the static filling her brain, on the scratch of damp fabric rubbing against her thighs.

She threw herself at her door when she arrived home, messily staggering inside. Relief washed over her, a heavy weight that pulled at her taut muscles, loosening them beyond function. She slammed the door’s locks back in place before crumpling to the ground, sobbing and shaking.

She didn’t know how long she laid there, the warped and rough floor scratching against the scuff marks on her cheek. Her tears, for the time being, had run out. Breathing came in raspy, raw gulps. Her head throbbed. She either couldn’t – or didn’t want to – feel her body.

She needed to get up. She didn’t want to spend the night on the floor in front of her apartment door. She wanted to get out of her clothes, and wash the whole, awful day from her body.

With a great amount of effort, Katya staggered to her feet and shed her coat, stumbling for the bathroom. With shaky hands, she peeled her clothes off and started the shower. Her eyes stared down at the pile while she waited for the water to warm. She wanted to toss those clothes, burn them. But that wouldn’t be practical. If she got rid of them, that just meant she’d need new ones; and she didn’t have the money for that.

Warm steam began to float from the shower stall and she numbly stepped inside. Normally, she relished a hot shower, but now she barely felt the comforting heat of it. Water beat in uneven patterns across her back and shoulders, small rivulets trickling down her arms and legs. At least, that’s what she would usually feel. Now it all felt distant. Almost as if the shower didn’t matter. There was no way to wash away the events of today.

Katya reached up and ran her fingers through her hair, her eyes closing as water ran over her face. Suddenly, she was back in the small crevasse. Kells breath on her cheek. His dick pressing against her.

Her eyes snapped open. A great, shuddering gasp burst from her mouth, sucking water droplets down her throat. She coughed and sputtered, her hands gripping fruitlessly against the tiled wall as her legs threatened to give way. Coughing morphed into desperate cries, and Katya slid to the floor, curling up on herself as the shower beat down.

She wanted comfort.

But also wanted to be alone.

Deserved to be alone.

The luxury of community had gotten her here, an oily voice in her head jabbed. If she had just told Sevika, Vander, Benzo, and Silco to fuck off, she could’ve gone on living her lonely life with little incidence.

Yes, she would’ve needed to find a way to deal with Viktor’s rising tuition cost. But she had always found a way before. She didn’t need anyone to step in and shoulder the load with her . . . however nice it had been.

I got you.

Silco’s promise rumbled through her head, agitating and temporarily dispersing the hateful voice.

Katya hiccupped, wiped her nose, and rubbed her eyes. She didn’t deserve to ‘be gotten’. He’d nearly been killed trying to ‘get her’. She didn’t want that for him. Silco’s endeavors were dangerous enough without having to worry about her.

Her heart ached at the thought. That foreign sense of wanting and desire throwing an equally loud tantrum at the thought of pulling away from him.

Katya reached up and turned the shower off, forgoing soap. Water would have to do. She crawled out of the stall and reached for her scratchy towel. With little care, she dried herself. Before shuffling from the bathroom, she grabbed her father’s pocket watch from the heap of clothes. She left the rest.

Despite the vile rhetoric in her head, Katya still opted to sleep in the shirt Silco had given her. A small keepsake of when she had dared to want for herself, she figured. She snuggled under her thick new blankets; another lovely item belonging had gotten her.

Her chest caved, the fragile muscle of her heart collapsing like a dying star.

She prayed for sleep to come hard and fast.

It must have, but it was not at all satisfying. It felt like a blink. The night passed so fast, in fact, that she was certain it couldn’t be the next day. But someone was knocking on her apartment door. And the watch she’d left on her nightstand insisted that it was 10 o’ clock in the morning.

Her head pounded. And the insistent knocking at the door didn’t help. Katya threw her blankets over her head, and waited for whoever it was to get the hint and go away. In the dark nest she’d made for herself, she tucked her knees up toward her chest, grit her teeth and waited.

Then someone called her name. Katya shot up, blankets pooling at her waist.

Her heart thudded as she gingerly got out of bed, body tired, heavy, and aching. She pulled the blankets around her like a great, puffy cape, and shuffled to the front door. The voice was familiar, but Katya peered through the peephole all the same.

The sound of scraping, old metal filled her ears as her hands undid the door’s latches and bolts. Wrapping her hand around the knob, Katya took a deep breath in, and opened the door.

Enyd and Sevika stood on her front step.

Katya felt her resolve waver at the sight of the two women. Her chin wobbled, and she choked on her own breath.

“Oh, Katya,” Enyd whispered, stepping forward and pulling the girl into her arms. “I am so sorry.”

Katya crumbled. She dropped her head into the crook of Enyd’s shoulder and wailed. The older woman did not buckle under the weight of the taller, thicker girl. She stood solidly and held her with strong hands.

“Come,” Enyd whispered after a minute. “Let’s go inside.”

Katya couldn’t bring herself to deny them. She was too tired. And despite that voice working so hard the night prior to convince her of the safety if loneliness, she wanted their company.

Enyd ushered them inside, and Sevika locked the door behind her.

The next hour was a whirlwind.

After wiping her boots on the doormat – chips of white paint flaking off – Sevika steered Katya toward the couch. Enyd headed to the kitchen, and made her tea and something to eat. Once she delivered a steaming mug and a plate of toasted bread with butter, she scurried through the apartment, straightening up and cleaning. She gathered the soiled clothes from the bathroom floor and began scrubbing them in the sink.

While Katya timidly gnawed at her toast, Sevika told her about the fallout of the previous day – or lack thereof. It turned out Kells had no family. He was orphaned at some young age, and had grown up in the mine’s barracks until he had aged out. Having no family made his death easier for people to forget, easier for the mine to ignore. Even the sniveling troupe he ran with did not seem willing to put up much of a fuss. Sevika wagered they were too afraid to go against the rumor in the mines that Kells had attacked Silco first. Katya didn’t doubt her, but she also felt Kells’s friends were probably the types who had loose loyalties.

Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. If she pulled back now, wouldn’t that make her the same?

“I’m glad Silco went to go find you,” Sevika said quietly. Then, with a wry grin, “I almost feel bad giving him grief about it when he ditched me.”

The tops of Katya’s cheeks colored at the story. Then, ducking into her tea, she muttered, “I am glad he came, too.”

A moment later, Enyd strode from the kitchenette, Katya’s damp, but clean, clothes draped over her arm.

“Do you have a drying rack, Katya?”

She shook her head, dark fringe tickling her eyebrows. “I usually just set things up by the radiator.”

She nodded her head toward the old, woven pipes under the window. As if in response, they bumped and hissed. Enyd nodded and stepped forward, shaking out each piece of clothing, and laying them carefully around the warm metal.

“I may have a spare drying rack,” Enyd mused as she fussed with the clothes. “I think its broken, technically. But it would be safer than putting your things directly on or near a heat source. I can bring it over tomorrow – “

“That is very kind, but not necessary, Enyd.”

The older woman shushed Katya’s worries with a wave of her hand. “Nonsense. You’ll have it.”

“I should get going,” Sevika said, rising from the couch. “I promised to meet Nasha today. We’re playing hooky.”

Enyd looked wholly disapproving, but chose not to rebuke the young woman’s decision.

“Just don’t push your luck.”

“I won’t. I won’t.” Sevika turned to Katya, before dipping down and giving her a warm squeeze. “I’m glad you’re okay, Kat. Let me know if you need anything, ‘kay?”

Katya’s throat swelled, and she glued her tongue to the roof of her mouth to keep from crying. She looked up at Sevika and nodded.

“Bye, Ms E!”

“Good bye, Sevika. Be safe.”

Sevika smiled broadly and left.

Silence seeped into the apartment. Katya trembled despite her blanket cocoon. Enyd eyed her, her face full of motherly concern. And understanding. She stepped toward the coffee table and bent to pick up the plate of crusts.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry Silco got hurt.”

Enyd’s hand jerked away from the plate as if it had burned her. Her head snapped up, eyes staring at the bleary-eyed young woman on the couch.

At once, Enyd rounded the table and took up the cushion Sevika had vacated, pulling Katya close.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

Katya sniffed and choked, burying her nose behind the curtain of Enyd’s ebony hair. The decision to draw back, draw away, quickly dissolved as motherly comfort wrapped around her, warmer than her blanket.

“You did nothing wrong, Katya. And Silco is fine. Banged up, but fine.”

Katya keened into Enyd’s shoulder. Thinking on Silco’s mangled face, on how much worse it must look today. Her arms snaked out from the blanket folds and wrapped around the older woman, holding tight. Holding on as if Enyd was her own parent. Enyd held her back with equal fervor.

“He’s home. Resting. Vander is with him right now.” A pause, and then Enyd whispered again, “It wasn’t your fault, Katya. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She pulled back to draw the young woman’s puffy and tear-streaked face between her hands. “Do you hear me? It was nothing you did.”

Katya hiccupped, her eyes – turned the color of sap by her tears – searched Enyd’s face.

“How long did it take for you to believe that?”

The older woman’s shoulders sagged. She ran her thumbs under Katya’s swollen eyelids, wiping tears as she went.

“Too long, considering it was not my fault,” she quietly answered, her voice hoarse with her truth and her illness. “Don’t let it be so long for you, sweetheart.”

Eventually, Enyd cleared the table and brought Katya a tall glass of water. Instead of drinking it, she slid horizontally on the couch, tucked herself deep into the burrow of her blankets again. Enyd sat with her, a thin hand resting atop her covered feet and ankles.

She stayed when Katya drifted into uneasy sleep. She was there when Katya woke back up, feeling dry and sick. Clumsily, she reached for the glass of water – Enyd steadying it as she brought it to her parched mouth. The drink was necessary, but not soothing. It cut ravines down her raw throat and sat heavy in her stomach. Her nose wrinkled in a wince and she tucked herself back in her blankets, curling towards the couch’s back cushions.

Sometime later, Enyd hovered over her cheek and whispered that she was leaving for the day, but that she’d be back the next. Katya tucked her lips between her teeth to keep her from pleading that she should stay. Instead, she nodded. Then, Enyd kissed her temple, and it was a staggering effort for Katya to not start crying again. She listened to the soft padding of Enyd’s light steps, the front door opening and closing, then silence.

Thick, lonely silence.

In the quiet, thoughts grew like weeds. A contemplative garden taking root in Katya’s brain. She pruned through each thought. How joining with the Children put her more directly in Kells’s path. How Silco had sacrificed his safety to assure her own. How Enyd and Sevika had appeared unprompted on her doorstep, out of concern, out of love, out of a sense of responsibility for her. How other Children had spun the story to protect Katya and Silco from any scrutiny over Kells’s death.

Katya sighed and pressed her forehead into the lumpy couch cushion.

She wanted Enyd to come back. She wanted Silco tucked against her side, so they could heal together.

She wanted, she wanted, she wanted.

She thought on Enyd’s words.

It wasn’t her fault.

Kells had tried to take something from her, and, perhaps, if she did pull away from these people, he would posthumously succeed: He would manage to take away her sense of belonging, the comfort of her community. The idea that she was worth something. And she wanted that. Badly.

She wanted, she wanted, she wanted.

Notes: Our poor baby girl, Katya 😔 She'll come around. Don't you worry.

Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear yout thoughts in the comments or reblogs ❤️

Coming Up Next: Rynweaver pays Heimerdinger a visit. Grayson and Bone have a talk.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @pinkrose1422 @dreamyonahill @sand-sea-and-fable @truthandadare @altered-delta

#children of zaun #coz #arcane #arcane fanfic #silco #young silco #orginal characters #sevika #young sevika #silco fanfic #silco x oc #silco x katya #silkat #found family

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mollysunder · 5 months

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The Inx: Jinx's Great and Terrible Devotees in Spite of Conv/rgence

The most annoying thing about Conv/rgence as a game is that it introduces great concepts, like the Inx, but just fumbles the execution of them and the overall story.

In Conv/rgence the Inx are a new chempunk gang of Zaunite teens and young adults that idolize and borderline worship Jinx to the point where they're said to spread chaos in her name. But the Zaun that Conv/rgence establishes tells a different story about the Inx from the intended description.

The first time the Inx appear is in the Conv/rgence comic, where the lead members like Chadd play at the Triumph Festival. It's supposed to be a Zaunite festival to celebrate Jayce's defeating Viktor, the Machine Herald. If the Inx follow Jinx's lifestyle why would they even play at such an event to celebrate a Piltovan, and why would Zaunites think the Inx wouldn't make trouble over it? I could go on about how weird it is for Zaun to host a festival to celebrate Jayce, a Piltovan champion for a fight unrelated to them and their wellbeing, but that would take too long.

For people who admire Jinx's boldness, the best they can do in the comics is pretty harmless vandalism where they just graffiti Jinx's monkey tag over some walls. The Inx are also nowhere to be seen in major events like the Scraptown Run, which apparently all Zaun gangs participate in.

Then there's members like Moshpit Meg. Meg's a diehard Jinx fan that loves Jinx's attitude and dedication to explosions. Before that Meg was admired Vi, the enforcer, because Vi's gauntlets reminded Meg of her own naturally big fists and it made her feel less self conscious about her own hands. That second half begs too many questions I don't have time for.

Outside of aesthetic choices there isn't really anything about the Inx that says they're people who stake their identity around Jinx. This is largely because Conv/rgence's universe works hard to sanitize Zaunite grievances against Piltover which directly undermines the central class conflict between Zaun and Piltover. It also largely impacts the motivations and general existence of characters like Jinx and the people who follow her, like the Inx, because they wouldn't exist in the absence of Piltover's oppression.

To avoid addressing any real conflict between the two cities the Inx are only vaguely make sense in the story, especially the game. All except for one element, Chadd. I need to say this...

Chadd is Accidentally (on Purpose?) Great

The brief moments the audience gets to know Chadd's character gives us an interesting glimpse at the people Jinx inspires.

The first thing we know about Chadd is that he's a musician, and it's neat trait that connects him to the musical roots of Jinx's character. In League, Jinx was the first champion in League to debut with a music video. It was through Jinx's character that Riot and Fortiche begun experimenting League with music. So it's very fitting that Convergence creates a chorus of sorts for Jinx to continue that musical tradition. To add to that, the game's promo posters decided to reestablish Jinx's connections by making her a talented karaoke singer.

The next thing to know about Chadd is that he was the one who planne and organized the Inx to transform a rundown theatre into an airborne concert arena. Red, Ekko's close friend and romantic interest in the game, confirmed that it was Chadd who was the one to make it happen, within a week too. It's an impressive creative feat that's clearly in homage to "Get Jinxed's" aerial imagery. Despite how cool a stunt that was I couldn't see how it was meant to impress Jinx, she was the most destructive thing in the theater... until I read the transcript "Hold me like a Fermata".

A shotgun, a flame thrower... who's funeral were you planning Chadd!??!? Just for context this was a transcript Ekko found of Chadd and the Inx talking about a new weapon (and sound system?) Chadd seemed to have made. I'm sure Chadd was the one who made it because the Fermata is also the name of a musical note that represents a pause (sometimes dramatic) in a score.

If you're familiar with music you might also know that the Fermata has more than one name, it's also referred to as "the Cyclops Eye". That kind of reference to Silco used on a weapon for a later act to honor Jinx couldn't have been lost on the writers because the Eye of Zaun was already found on an Inx hangout.

When I finally noticed all these details I finally got that Chadd is dangerously devoted to Jinx. All the points in his character can only lead us to conclude the real plan wasn't to just play obnoxiously loud music when the theater reached Piltover's heights, it was to destroy Piltover with all the weapons they equipped on it. That's the best idea I can come up with because Jinx immediately throws bombs at their plan to cause havoc in Piltover... for reasons. It does match Jinx's track record at least, usually other dangerous or apathetic champions tend to appreciate her, like Urgot, Renata Glasc, and Khada Jhin.

Even Chadd's concept art communicates that he's probably more devoted to Jinx than rest of the Inx. The way his early design evolves to reflect Jinx's influence could even tell a story. The more this douchey glam rocker finds inspiration in Jinx the more he changes himself and his art to reflect Jinx's impact. Chadd grows his hair out, wears his tattoo of Jinx in the same place she wears hers, and even dresses more like her, but he still retains his own diva personality.

One last thing, the funniest thing about Chadd is the fact that both Ekko and Red seperately ask him to explain himself and what "statement" he's trying to make with the Inx. Chadd just flat out refuses to answer, and even breaks up with Red over that. I thought he was being douche (he was), but then I remembered Jinx doesn't explain herself in game either about the mayhem she causes, she just taunts anyone who asks. The student learns from the master I guess.

Tldr: In the Converegence game and comics the Inx are characterized by mild vandalism and pretentious artists. And I could almost get behind that idea if only Convergence wasn't so heavily biased towards Piltover the dynamics of a group like the Inx could have had a more interesting exploration in their motivations and goals. Also, Chadd is a dipshit and he makes a great follower of Jinx!

#jinx lol #silco #the inx lol #the inx #the inx convergence #the inx conv/rgence #convergence lol #conv/rgence lol #chadd lol #chadd convergence #chadd conv/rgence #does this count as a partial arcane thing?#because silco's eye is used in association with jinx's followers #convergence is filled with so many missed opportunities and absolute wild storytelling decisions #like lets ignore the camille team up and ask why does jinx want to stop people from destroying piltover #why do zaunites feel make a whole celebration for a piltie like jayce?#why in the game is seraphine a source of inspiration for zaunites when she wasn't even born in zaun she was born in piltover #why is the story about a dangerous chembaron family that makes a dangerous artificial lesser quality version of hex crystals when the ferro #family does the EXACT same thing... oh is the production process dangerous the Ferros do the same thing #that's why Zaun Gray exists in the first place in League #league of legends #they just painted the ferros family brownish red instead of blue

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hexhomos · 2 years

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LoL Jayce with the Gioparas. LoR Jayce with the Ferros. LoL Viktor with Stanwick and Renata. Both of their Arcane versions with the Council, specially Medarda and the Kiramman.

Hmmmm.... having thoughts about how their common enemy is always their own investors

HAHAHA part of vikjayce's built-in charm to me is that their position in society is that of the working man under the gears of capitalism and rapidly advancing industry. They are *employees*, doesn't matter how brilliant or how groundbreaking their work is, the results will always be co-opted by those with the most money and power in the society they inhabit. The average man can't win capitalism by "pulling themself up by their bootstraps," -- when they try to, the result will often be them being swiftly outplayed and a quick economic demise.

Investors are landlords of ideas. Ask anyone trying to break into industry how they feel about that relationship and you're going to end up collecting a whole album's worth of doompilled stories, worst case scenario always being The Money Guys Get All Your Work (Including Credits For Work They Didn't Do!) By the End.

#This is esp grating to me when people try to insist jayce talis is a billionaire #Absolutely No Version Of Jayce Is Rich. Youre insane #In arcane his family name has been put through so much dirt he needs to loan money from other people #In league he doesnt even have a family name and different employers will auction his services with little input from him #I have a lot of complaints overall abt how fandom seems to think viktors only career paths in zaun are Prostitution or (More) Prostitution #But its really grating to me how often ppl can't write poor people as if they're human beings #The lack of working class solidarity in so many j/v fics that just want to portray them as caricaturesque extremes. Ummmmmmmmmmm #Jayvik #Vikjayce

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arcaneincorrectquotes · 2 years

Text

Vi: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.

Vander: Vi no.

Powder: Mistlefoe.

Vander: Please stop encouraging her

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goddessofroyalty · 1 year

Note

I just read your most recent Zaun Family piece and it made simultaneously go 🥺 at the baby and 😩 at Silco's resolve against showing the Piltites any weakness like fr. If you're up for it, can I please request Vanco bonding moments with the newest baby of the family as well as Viktor bonding with his new sibling as well? Thank you!!

Whoops I temporarily put this on hold to do that Holiday Fic and well then everything hit the fan. Request fill below – glad you enjoyed the previous one.

Tags: mpreg, omegaverse, recent childbirth

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Silco lets a soft hiss escape as he settles into his nest.

It’s just him and Vander now. No employees or business partners or Piltites he has to not show any weakness to. The young kids all having had the chance to meet their new brother under Benzo’s supervision while Silco washed the evidence of the birth off and have been sent on an impromptu sleep over with their uncle for at least a night or two. Silco doesn’t have to pretend he isn’t throbbing anymore.

“Are you comfortable?” Vander asks, holding their new son in his arms next to the bed. Their pups always look tiny in his arms when they are first born. Even Claggor, who all agreed was one of the biggest babes they had seen.

Silco curls his lip at the question. Comfortable not something he is going to be feeling for a while until his body heals from both the pregnancy and birth.

“As much as I’m going to be,” he says. Vander will have been stressed from the moment he heard what happened. Right now he needs reassurance Silco is and will be oaky, not a reminder of the cost Silco must always pay for their children.

“Do you want him?” Vander asks, raising their pup up as he does. Comfortably confident in a way only a well-experienced father can be.

“In a minute.” His pup is safe with Vander and he hasn’t had a moment to rest since the moment in the afternoon where he realized his labor was coming a lot faster than his previous ones.

“Tell me when you want him,” Vander says, because none of this is new to him. “Can I come in?”

Vander doesn’t normally need to ask that. Silco’s nest is their bed that they both collapse into most nights. It isn’t most nights though and Vander knows how Silco is when he’s feeling vulnerable like this.

Silco gives him a hum of consent. Vander hasn’t been unwanted in his nest for years now, his mate comforting to have around.

He winces at how the bed shifts as Vander climbs in next to him. Their son, balanced in the alphas arms, letting out a small squeal at it.

“It’s alright, I got him,” Vander says when Silco reaches out for his pup at it. Even if he knows Vander would never harm their pup he still has to ensure the pup he carried feels safe after the trauma of being born in Silco’s office in Piltover. “See, he’s alright love, just not used to not having a padded womb around him.”

Silco still scans over the pup’s face where Vander holds him. The boy’s eyes screwed shut in displeasure even if his tiny chest seems to be settling back into regular, even breathes. His scent more unsure than scared. Comforted by both his parent’s scents surrounding him.

His nose curls when Vander gently runs a finger down his front. The squeal this time more joyful.

“See – all better now,” Vander says. “Just startled a little was all.”

Silco still reaches out to gently rest his hand on his pup’s face, running a knuckle along the delicate cheek. Reassure him that his Dam is nearby should he need.

“You did another amazing job Sil,” Vander says as their pups unfocused eyes gaze up at them. “Another perfect pup.”

“Now you can help.” Silco still the only one that can feed their new son but Vander can at least help with all the other needs.

Silco knows it will be harder to manage than with the others. His work no longer something that can easily be solely done out of the Last Drop. And until he’s weaned the pup will have to be within easy access to him.

“You know I will,” Vander says, leaning over to press a kiss against Silco’s forehead. Gentler than he normally would.

He’s always gentler right after Silco’s given him another child.

“We have Benzo and Sevika as well,” Vander continues because he knows there’s so much more they have to manage compared to the others. More work to get done as the years have gone along. “And the others are old enough to help out as well.”

“We will work it out.” The point of all their work was to make a better life for their children. Silco will not have one of his own miss out while they do it.

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Vikor’s new brother feels tiny in his arms. Even swaddled in Silco’s coat as he is, the extra fabric trailing over onto Silco’s lap to help cover his now bare legs, the collar tucked up under the tiny pup’s head.

Viktor knows that Claggor and Mylo would have been a similar size when they were born and it only because he was smaller as well that they felt bigger in his memories.

It’s horrible design, really, to be born that vulnerable. To be born that dependent on one’s parents, especially considering how birth can prove deadly.

“Are you sure you are okay?” Viktor asks his Dam because he hasn’t been able to calm that fear since he had walked into the office to Silco kneeling on the floor in a puddle of fluid and blood, newborn pup in his arms.

“If I wasn’t it would be over by now,” Silco assures him, reaching out to tuck the strand of Viktor’s hair that escaped in his rush to his Dam’s side behind his ear.

It is a blunt assessment of the situation but they are not a family to soften the realities of life.

Viktor had always known what it meant to have a baby. What it cost.

His Dam had done it four times now.

Viktor’s attention snaps back to his brother when the pup makes a wet coughing noise, tiny eyes cringing as he does. He had never been allowed to hold his other brothers this long when they were this nearly born. He likely is doing something that’s making his brother uncomfortable.

“He’s alright,” Silco assures before Viktor can hand his brother over to his Dam’s surer hands. “He’s just getting used to breathing on his own.”

Only an hour ago Silco had been doing it for the both of them. Viktor’s brother floating in a fluid-filled world with all his needs provided directly to him.

“He has a lot to learn,” Viktor mutters more to himself than anything. It’s not just breathing his new brother will have to figure out but also nursing and how to view the world around him. A lot to master for one so small.

“His instincts will guide him” Silco says, “and soon enough he will be just another annoying sibling bothering you while you work.”

“I have not complained about that for years.” Not since he moved to Piltover and got a workspace that was harder for his siblings to invade on a whim.

Silco gives him a look from the side of his good eye.

“Weeks at least,” Viktor concedes. His parents getting more comfortable allowing his siblings to visit Topside has led to them being a bit too comfortable hanging out in Viktor and Jayce’s labs for Viktor’s liking.

“I don’t think he will cause as much trouble,” Viktor says, drawing the conversation back to his new brother. The pup won’t be able to bother him in the lab for at least a few years. And by then, well, that’s not a line of thought Viktor is ready to go down just yet.

When he glances back at Silco his Dam’s expression is unreadable to him.

#Zaun Family #Arcane #Arcane omegaverse #omegaverse #Arcane mpreg #mpreg #tw childbirth #Silco Arcane #Viktor Arcane #Ramblings of the Goddess #Q and A with the Goddess #I accidently a ficlet #Prompt fic #prompt fill

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countlessrealities · 1 year

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Memories of my childhood

Bold all that apply to your muse. Repost, don't reblog ! TW: contains mentions of abuse / neglect / death / trauma

scraped knees, silent tears in a locked room, slamming doors, pervasive loneliness, a dog barking, rain on a metal roof, flinching at movement, the creak of an old house, forced laughter, wandering in the dark woods, wondering how you made it through, sudden loss, trying to make sense of the noise, hiding what you love to protect it, trying to explain but your words falter, invaded privacy, confusion at the pain, running barefoot in the grass, wondering what you did wrong and coming up with nothing, realizing you aren’t a priority, grass stains on white clothing, trying to earn love you will never have, being threatened over the smallest mistake, secrets you are warned not to share, the feeling of never being good enough, the hope things might someday get better, grief that aches in your bones, childish dares and pranks, the sense that your body isn’t yours, shame and guilt that aren’t yours to carry, sledding down a frozen hill, absentmindedly following snakes through the grass, punching a tree until your knuckles bleed, tears over every dead creature you find, searching out small places you can hide… just in case, climbing the tallest tree so they can’t touch you, the feeling of something tainted under your skin, a curious child told to stop asking, floral dresses, body tensing at approaching footsteps, anger with nowhere to go, brief escapes from the chaos, the purr of a contented cat, taking the blame to keep the peace, being told you’re too sensitive, the creaking springs of a trampoline on a sunny day

tagged by: @vastayan--vigilante [[ thank you!! ]] tagging: Steal it from me !

#[ ooc :: dash games ]#[ headcanons :: Jinx ]#[ v. Just a girl with explosive dreams ; Powder verse :: Jinx ]#[[ Powder didn't have the best childhood ]]#[[ growing up in Zaun is hard for everyone ]]#[[ since it's a world where you have to grow strong to survive ]]#[[ Vi and Vander did their best with her but she was still exposed to a lot ]]#[[ after Silco took her in she was even less sheltered ]]#[[ not to mention the aftermath of the trauma of being responsible for her adopted family's death ]]#[[ and Vi's rejections / abandonment ]]

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adelaidedrubman · 2 years

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in retrospect it would have been funnier if instead of giving zellah a throwaway last name for banner purposes i just referred to her as “zellah arcane” like we do the canon characters

#i mean she's from a wealthy piltover family so she presumably would have a last name although she wouldn't use it in zaun #but still it would have been funnier #i was going to tag this as ''oc: zellah arcane'' but ive a little bit learned my lesson about making joke oc tags

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zaune-aus-polen · 2 years

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🍀Klassisch von seiner besten Seite👌🖤♥️💛 #zaunbau #zäune #zäuneauspolen #zaunauspolen #zaun #falkensee #frankfurt #falttor #brandenburg #berlin🇩🇪 #münchen #thorkunstschmiede #tor #torauspolen #kunstschmiede #kadewe #family https://thor-zaun.pl/ (w: Rostock, Germany) https://www.instagram.com/p/CdstNaYMNvr/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#zaunbau #zäune #zäuneauspolen #zaunauspolen #zaun #falkensee #frankfurt #falttor #brandenburg #berlin🇩🇪#münchen #thorkunstschmiede #tor #torauspolen #kunstschmiede #kadewe #family

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