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insult-2-injury · 2 years

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Take a Seat- Chapter 6

After a skirmish up top, your failing shop falls under the watchful gaze of the Eye of Zaun. And his blue-haired gremlin daughter.

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@of-the-argonath here it is bb, your favorite chapter <3

Over the weeks following your almost amiable chat with Silco, he’d never offered you another drink, emanating a strange coldness each time you’d go up following a Jinx night, the money already sitting on the corner of his desk when you’d walk in. It seemed whatever breakthrough you thought you’d had, had been a one-off, his good mood that night having possibly everything to do with the fresh high of killing an ‘old friend’.

You didn't think to be offended by his behavior at all, and you couldn’t help but notice how utterly exhausted he appeared, shoulders always hunched over his work, his tired eyes lifting whenever you’d knock.

You were surprised, each week, when he didn’t fob off the task of your pay on someone else. Maybe some weird power play, but you couldn’t help but believe it had something to do with the little ritual you’d begun that went like this: You’d stand in the entryway of his office until he verbally invited you in with an impatient, humorless glare, you’d grab your pay off his desk, he’d say something ridiculously hostile, and then you’d take your leave.

That was it.

It was an innocent, humorous habit, one that lasted only a couple minutes, yet a small, perhaps foolish part of you liked to think you were breaking up the monotony of his Fridays, as he did yours, and you found yourself looking forward to showing up each week to feed the tiger on schedule.

Meanwhile, you made sure to carve out time to engage with the other colorful characters that had sprung up in your life like dandelions in a sidewalk crack.

_______________

“Do you like dancing?”

You raised your head from the task before you, a giddy grin plastered on your face.

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking, Cecil?”

The top of your friend’s pink head poked up from behind the bar counter, where she’d been busy readying the bar fridge for another hectic night.

“If you think I’m askin’ whether you like dancing, yes.”

You tittered with glee. “I have to say, I did not take you for the dancing type.”

“I’m not,” she said honestly, “But I’m tryin’ to get better at not always watching people have fun from behind a counter.”

“I haven’t been in years. I normally try and avoid any sort of public convulsing, but I do seem to have a penchant for humiliating myself lately.”

Her chin tilted up from where she crouched to display a kind smile. “Well, I’d be honored to accompany you sometime.”

“Alright. It’s a date.” You winked, then twisted your torso to the skyscraper of a woman beside you, who was smoking silently, propped with her back to Cecil. “You in?”

If looks could kill. Sevika’s deadly, grey eyes slid to yours and she somehow managed a wrathful scowl despite the cigar lodged precariously at the corner of her mouth. Danger hung on each one of her next words.

“You think I can’t find another bladesmith around Zaun if you disappear?”

“Roger that,” you mollified, bowing your head to your work, stroking her detached blade across the whetstone with well-practiced motions.

You’d told her you wanted to meet and talk swords, a new blade design already carving obsessively into your mind's eye that would make retraction quicker with less kickback. By the same token, you had offered a free sharpening, knowing full well the woman couldn’t turn down a bargain.

You’d kept what you thought was a straight face, but Sevika was no simpleton, the agitation rolling off her in waves as you’d leapt up to greet Cecil as she’d walked in for her shift, gentle surprise and a subsequent nervousness coloring her features at the sight of Silco’s second in command.

But you were observant. Over the last couple weeks, your mere hunch had solidified into a near certainty at the blatant attraction between the pair. The stolen glances from Cecil. The furious, glowering from Sevika across the crowded bar. It was all so… flammable.

“Let me scrabble up some money for a night out, and we can go next week,” you said.

“Kingpin not throwing you enough dough?”

Even though Sevika’s barbed words were based in truth, you still flinched at the multilayered rebuke in her tone. You failed to keep the snappishness from your voice.

“I’m hardly even a real employee. I’m like a not-so-glorified babysitter.”

Her bitter humor showed in a short burst of thick smoke through her nostrils.

“You don’t get to call yourself anything, anymore. You handed him your reins the moment you pocketed his money. Better start praying he doesn’t steer you to the bottom of a river.”

Sevika wasn’t even looking at you, but you averted your gaze even so, something oddly venomous pressing your head down and your shoulders up, like you were being slowly raised on a butcher hook. Her words were a tad humorous, given you already had somewhat of an inside joke with the man about river disposals.

There was more on the tip of her tongue, you could tell, but she shook her head, standing up to her full height, requesting the blade with a curl of her fingers.

“You’re done.”

Your head whipped to Cecil as she suddenly stood up, leaning across the counter toward Sevika, her elbows thumping onto the countertop, no doubt giving the woman a subtle peek of cleavage.

“You never gave me an answer,” she said, “About dancing.”

You immediately whirled your attention back to the sword in front of you, hunching down and squinting, using your sleeve to intently wipe at a non-existent smudge, as if it were the most captivating task in the world.

From your periphery, Sevika had stilled, and you thought for a disappointed moment that she was either going to rebuff Cecil again or run you through with her sword, but then the counter was creaking as her weight shifted to the side. Turning her head slowly, she faced Cecil, towering above her.

Your gaze slid sideways, observing her mean sneer. The cigar rolled expertly to the opposite corner of her mouth as she stared Cecil down, who you threw major accolades for staying put beneath the casted shadow of the intimidating woman.

Sevika let out a dragon-like plume of smoke through her nose before freeing her mouth to speak.

“I don’t dance.”

Cecil’s features remained calm and sweet. “Even with a few drinks in you?”

Sevika’s sneer deepened in response.

“I’m not teasing,” Cecil said. And you knew she really wasn’t. She was too unspeakably kind.

“Then I’m curious what you’re trying to accomplish here,” Sevika leaned forward threateningly.

“Well, I was thinkin’, if all the whiskey in Runeterra can’t make Sevika dance, then what can?” She said, acknowledging the woman’s drink of choice.

Your stool squeaked noisily and you muttered a quiet apology that went unheeded, as you had already been shoved to the far outskirts of the tension bubble that had formed around the pair.

Cecil stood, absentmindedly brushing off the front of her pants. “It was just a question, darlin’.” She gave the woman a bright, genuine smile that had you side-eyeing Sevika for any early signs of homicide.

“Do yourself a favor and never call me that again.”

“'Course," Cecil agreed, then stooped down again to clank bottles around in the mini fridge. The woman beside you stared a moment longer and you realized too late that you’d completely paused in your motions and were very clearly not minding your own business.

You squawked as her hand suddenly whipped out and grabbed the handle of the blade, ripping it from under your hunched form. You lunged backward in reflex, nearly toppling off your stool to avoid the freshly sharpened sword, righting yourself with two hands on the counter edge.

“God, you almost cut my tits off!”

Sevika looked at you with barely veiled disdain, her only response to your accusation being the metallic clang and whirring of her sword reattaching to her metal arm. The cigar in her mouth moved as she spoke to Cecil.

“See you around, princess."

You glared at her retreating figure as she stalked off, probably on her way to go wipe the floor with some poor sod in a game of poker.

Twisting back around, you met Cecil’s gaze poking over the top of the counter and for a time you just blinked at each other, your own expression still furious. Then, in a beautiful synchronous moment, you had both cracked, your heads throwing back in laughter.

God, you’d missed this; forgotten how you’d yearned for the euphoria of the kind of wild laughter that made your throat hurt, that had you pressing your palms to your eyes in a futile attempt at catching the forming tears.

“That didn’t go well at all,” Cecil said, as you both sat in the aftermath, cheeks red.

“What?! On the contrary, that went exceptionally well. How can you not see how she looks at you? She looks like she wants to eat you.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows raised with a sweet uncertainty, and you nodded fervently. “I s’pose it’s hard to see what’s right in front of us.”

“If anyone else smiled at her like that, they’d be dangling off the tip of her sword.”

The words brought your focus reeling back to what Sevika had said about Silco holding the reins to your life now and the roil of disgust that furled your insides was unsettling in more ways than one. You were fully aware of the high stakes when you’d accepted the Eye of Zaun’s money, but the idea of being just another expendable puppet on strings was a deeply repelling one. But, again, you’d known this. You’d crawled out of your foxhole and wittingly marched into the sights of the hunter with the biggest gun, so what was it about Sevika’s words that had you seething with such outrage?

“You alright?” Snapping back to the present, you found Cecil eyeing you strangely. “I lost you there.”

“Never better!” you chirped. “So. Dancing.”

___________

You’d meant to run all of your errands at the beginning of the day. You’d meant to get a lot of things done before going out that night, but who were you kidding, your good intentions rarely ever queued up with reality, so by the time you’d finally dallied around your house enough to gather the motivation, it was late afternoon.

As it came into view, you winked at the familiar Eye mounted over the bustling plaza. Most of your pursuits in the past month or so had taken you inside the confines of the Last Drop, so it felt strange taking your usual route only to venture past the eccentric place.

Only you didn’t.

Because an unmistakable shock of blue hair had hooked your attention, stopping you in your tracks, earning you a shove forward and a few unsavory curses as someone strolled into your back.

It was Jinx, pressed up against the side of the building, eyes huge with terror as a golden-haired, burly woman stalked toward her, finger pointed.

“Hey!” you yelled without a second thought, panicking. “Hey!”

Before your brain could form the thought of intent, you were running toward her. Jinx’s gaze widened even further in recognition and in the blink of an eye, the look of doe-eyed innocence had vanished, replaced by a sunny grin as she greeted you enthusiastically, waving.

“Hiya!”

You slowed your roll, narrowing your eyes at her, which only increased the wattage of her smile.

“What’s going on-“

The woman spun fully around and your words died into a sputtering gasp as you attempted to hold back your startled laughter. You looked at her dripping face, and then at the shattered soup bowl at the foot of a nearby table; Using context clues, you could only assume she was covered in her own lunch.

“Something funny?”

“Not at-“ You quelled another wave of laughter. “Not at all.” You turned to Jinx, who had an instigating, devilish smile on her face. “You okay?”

“I’m alright,” her head flopped to the side in thought, “Got any fizzies on ya?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Shoot,” she pouted, throwing up her arms.

You turned to the woman.

“Want to explain why you’re antagonizing my friend here?”

“Antagonizing? Your little 'friend’ here has assaulted me twice just this week.”

The woman was livid past the point of no return, wiping her face with her sleeve.

“Assault?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah. Assault.” She was practically spitting acid at you. “She’s somehow got access to fuckin’ chemicals or something. Sleep chemicals. She’s got these little… devices.”

You blinked slowly. You'd think the woman was barking mad if you weren't so familiar with Jinx’s ‘devices’ by now. When you’d requested that Jinx bring an activity of her choice weeks prior, you hadn’t expected her to tote along anything that could be classified as a Grade A weapon. Yet, you had understood, right away, where you’d miscalculated when you’d assumed that she wouldn’t, and considering your sore lack of specificity, you hadn’t faulted her when she’d laid out several of her ticking gadgets, like an explosive show and tell. Besides, you had to give the kid credit where credit was due. All of her creations were awfully cute.

You took a solemn moment to compose yourself, trying not to laugh at the knowledge that Jinx had made a grown woman fall asleep in her soup.

“Hm. That just doesn’t sound like her.”

"I know it was her," she spat.

“Play the-“ Jinx looked at you, eyes searching. “How do I say it again?”

“Sound it out.”

“Play the record. No. Break the… OH- for the record!”

You waited.

“For the record? I’m innocent.”

“I know,” you shot her a knowing grin.

You turned to the woman. “We’re done here.”

“No,” she jabbed a finger into your chest, “Someone needs to teach this little bitch a lesson, or I will.”

“Hey,” you hissed, fire bursting through your chest like a fist punching upward, “What the fuck is wrong with you? What kind of person talks about a twelve-year-old like that?”

You were shoved. Hard. “You better take a step back.”

“What’s the matter,” Jinx said, “A little sleepy?”

There was a short pause.

Uh oh.

The woman lunged at Jinx, and you did the only thing you could think to do: You threw a punch. It connected solidly with the side of her face, catching her nose as you both howled in pain. There was a twig-like snap in your hand followed by an excruciating jolt up your arm.

Jinx skirted inside, you saw, as you narrowly dodged out of the way of the woman’s flying counter fist, clutching your broken finger to your chest like a fragile baby bird. Immediately, you were on the defense, desperately holding out hope that one of Silco’s crew would hear the commotion and come rescue you.

You were no fighter. You had just thrown one tragic punch.

The woman’s words were garbled as you ducked and dodged until she faked you out, a fist hooking into the back of your jacket and swinging you around.

You flew several steps back, now facing the Last Drop, free hand toying with the knife on your waistband, watching her quickly approach.

You couldn’t. I mean you could. But you shouldn’t.

Teddy’s large form snatched your attention away for just a moment as he appeared in the entryway of the bar and began pushing toward you through the small crowd that had formed.

And it was just that short moment the woman needed to drive her fist into your chest and wrestle you screeching and clawing onto the ground.

The banal thought running through your head before it cracked into the pavement was that you probably wouldn’t get those errands done today.

_____________

Head wounds, even smaller ones, were inevitably messy, but you felt like a stuck pig as you swayed just inside the door to Silco’s office, keeping tradition, blood dripping warmly from a gash just above your right eyebrow, down your closed eyelid and onto the floor below. Your thumb was broken, too, that much you knew, a sharp ache radiating from the source.

You remembered, only vaguely, Teddy hoisting you up off the pavement and assisting you toward some back door of the building that you'd never seen before. You'd taken an elevator up. The woman, you didn't know what had become of her, but you imagined she'd be properly dealt with. What that entailed, you really didn't want to know.

You felt downright waspish, your head clanging like a church bell with each thudding pulse of blood through your veins. And the man in front of you did little to remedy your vexation, leaning impassively against the front of his desk, smoking, appearing completely unruffled by your appearance.

You couldn’t look at him, your eyes instead burning holes into the rug at the center of the room, mainly because the light from his desk lamp was offensively bright at the moment, like staring into the sun on a cloudless day.

“There’s an elevator in the building," you grumbled.

“Yes.”

Your pained scowl deepened. You’d go ahead and file that knowledge under 'things to get mad about later'.

Smoke spilled downward from Silco’s lips as he seemed to purposefully direct a plume into your line of sight.

“What happened.”

You once more attempted to staunch the itchy trickle of blood with your sleeve, pressing it against your forehead, hissing loudly at the contact. You’d already disposed of the thin, drenched pile of paper towels that Teddy had handed you before you'd walked in here in a daze.

“You ask me that, a lot,” you said, “It’s a nice baseline for us.”

Another plume danced its way across the floor, curling toward your sneakers, which you noticed, with further irritation, had been scuffed a great deal.

“I’m in no mood.”

“Neither am I,” you agreed. “To begin, I’m fairly sure I broke my head.” You pressed your forearm over your eyes to block out the light and raised your other hand feebly. “And my thumb.”

You didn’t hear a response, and there was an ear-ringing silence before you heard him begin a slow saunter toward you, his boots terrifyingly quiet on the hardwood floor.

Secretly, you’d grown rather fond of the scent of Silco’s office, and Silco himself, you realized as he closed in on you, the rich, spiced smell of cigars and cedar wafting pleasantly off the man. But right now, without the benefit of sight, and with the assistance of a feasible concussion, his scent was assaulting you as he approached, carding through your throbbing head with abandon, sending all five senses haywire like your brain was a busted compass. It had you pressing your eyes further into your arm, as if blinding yourself could protect you from his palpable proximity.

You swayed with uncertainty when he came to a stop before you.

“Open.”

“Can’t.”

“Don’t be a child,” he said sternly. “Open.”

Your nose scrunched as you nearly snarled your defiance, but behind the querulousness a tiny voice of reason reminded you who stood before you.

You dropped your arm hesitantly, brow wrinkled as you attempted to squint at him. Shifting, Silco used his figure to block out the lamp light, allowing your vision to clear a bit, revealing how shockingly close he was, no less than two feet away.

His head tilted down and forward to examine your eyes and thousands of panicked neurons in your brain cried out all at once, lurching you backward with an anxious step. Your arm flew up again, to block out the reemerging light over his shoulder as well as the amusement you just knew twisted his lips.

“You are concussed.”

You hummed lowly in response. You’d gathered that.

His vest rustled as he straightened again.

“Did you recognize the woman harassing Jinx?”

“I don’t remember anything,” you croaked, mind swirling, finding it frustratingly difficult to latch onto a single coherent thought through the excruciating hammering in your head.

“Try.”

“No one I’ve ever seen.”

“I recall you not remembering anything.”

“Good God, no more questions,” you snapped, your brain-to-mouth pipeline not functioning. You hastily muttered an unfelt apology.

“Temper today, have we?” There was a heated warning in his tone.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again, backing away. “I don’t even know- I don’t even know why I‘m here. I should just-“

“Couch.”

“What?”

“You’ll be pleased to know that wasn’t a question. Couch.”

Silco’s footsteps were carrying him away and you twisted back around, squinting at him in confusion as he slid long fingers beneath the shade of the desk lamp to pull the string, the room falling into a blessed dimness, though still illuminated by the green cast light through the large window behind.

Your eyes fluttered uncertainly. Silco appeared completely unphased by his own abruptness as he disappeared through a doorway you’d never noticed before. You stared blearily at it for the several minutes he was gone, like a baby lacking object permanence. He stopped short when he saw you rooted in the same spot, dragging his gaze down your unstable figure with disapproval.

“I would ask whether you hit your head harder than previously thought, but your problems with verbal instructions pre-dates this particular injury.”

“Very funny,” you said, but finally obeyed, walking with the unsteady gait of a baby deer toward the plush, rose-colored couch, and collapsing into it.

The couch was astonishingly comfortable, yet highlighted the locale of the worst of the pain as your bruised body sank in. You placed your head into your unbroken palm, fighting against the pounding of what felt like hundreds of giants fists against the inside of your skull.

A fingertip clanking against glass brought your blurred focus upward, where a vial of a familiar, pink liquid floated right in front of your eyes.

You recoiled, your squinting, accusatory gaze flying upward to meet his as he subsequently gave you the most outrageous eye roll you’d ever been on the receiving end of, his entire head moving with the motion.

“It's not addictive. It will only heal.”

“Not addictive? That’s shimmer I’m looking at,” you said, forgetting briefly who you were arguing with.

“A drug of many uses, this variant steroidal.” His tone held an infuriating upward lilt, as if he were speaking to an unruly child. “Now, you can choose to drink this, feel better, and tell me what happened. Or you can choose to not drink this, suffer, and still tell me what happened. What will it be?”

Your unfocused eyes moved between him and the vial. “What’s in it?”

Silco hinged at the waist, leaning further down to emphasize his next words, something self-satisfied in the tiny uptick of his lips. “No more questions.”

You wanted to hiss at him. For a moment, you stared at him, aggravated, from under your eyelashes, and then reached out and plucked the vial out of his fingers, carefully avoiding his touch.

“Smart girl.”

It was a huge display of trust in him, you realized, and extremely unwarranted. Silco was a predator of intense cruelty, but he did seem to have a rationale for all he did, and there was no discernible reason why he would want to get you addicted to the substance.

You uncorked the bottle with your teeth, eyes still not venturing from his. You hated it, the way he stood above you right then, holding the reins, as Sevika had put it.

“Well then,” you said throatily, tipping the vial toward him, a call back to your balcony stare down weeks prior. His eyes flashed in recollection as you found the rim of the glass, resting it just below your bottom lip. “Cheers.” And you pitched the mix back, something dangerous brewing as he unwaveringly held your death stare as you swallowed the concoction in one go. His lips quirked slightly. You must look positively insane, blood still coating the right half of your face.

You had just set the glass down on the table when your fist suddenly clenched of its own accord, and you had just enough time to brace yourself before you were crying out as blinding, white heat carved its way across each individual vein, as if for a mere second, your skin was just a shell, a conduit for the violent lightning storm within.

Then, as soon as it had begun, it had lifted, pure bliss in its wake as the heat, like air releasing from a balloon, receded from your skull, stealing the pain along with it and clearing the fog from your mind.

Exhaling a long, ragged sigh, you kept your eyes closed, focusing in on the bizarre, ticklish feeling of the skin above your brow knitting itself back together.

“Could’ve told me it would hurt,” you said softly after a stretch of time.

“One could argue it was kinder of me not to.”

You finally opened your eyes. “Don’t start throwing around words like ‘kind’, people might start to get the wrong idea about you.”

You’d already gotten away with saying a lot today, having limped in with a head full of cotton and a bad attitude, but you had a gut feeling the man didn’t intend to hurt you, at least for now. And that gut feeling solidified when he tossed you a dampened towel, placing a first aid kit and a beautiful, gold-plated mirror on the table in front of you.

You had a feeling this was the closest Silco came to thanking anyone.

“Do try not to misconstrue this as a ‘kindness’,” he said dryly. “You’re bleeding on my couch.”

You smiled lightly. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Silco busied himself at his desk, turning on the lamp and picking up his previously abandoned cigar, rifling through papers, organizing his work that you had interrupted when you’d shown up pathetic and bleeding on his doorstep.

You slid cross-legged to the floor and began to dig through the kit, locating a splint and a bandage, looking up every now and then to peek at the man.

He could’ve easily turned you away, and you would’ve stumbled down the streets of the Lanes to the nearest doctor, but he’d taken you in, treated you to his personal shimmer stock. You wouldn’t dare venture to call it any sort of personal kindness, as like you’d said, the man seemed to have a hidden, vested interest in anything he chose to put effort toward.

But then that begged the question, while you were choreographing your rise from the ashes, was he orchestrating your downfall? You hadn’t the faintest idea what the man was thinking, and perhaps that’s what was so thrilling about it all.

Silco’s icy gaze lifted and you tore your inquisitive one away, busying yourself with the thumb splint in your lap.

He seemed to reciprocate your little quips well enough, which was odd, because you knew with certainty he had killed for less. Gods, he’d killed people for looking at him funny. Like you’d always said, it was prudent to keep your wits around a wild animal, so what sort of broken psyche did you have that made you want to keep sticking your arm in the crocodile’s mouth?

Maybe you were just certifiably insane for pushing your luck at all. It made sense- when you really pulled back to look at the big picture, you were sitting cross-legged on the floor of the most dangerous man in the Undercity's office, with a belly full of shimmer and a bloody face.

“The shimmer heals intravenously,” Silco spoke suddenly, as if reciting a dull speech he’d spoken hundreds of times, jarring you out of your reverie. “Although it will speed up the process, it cannot mend a broken bone.”

“That’s fine,” your voice catching with a sharp inhale as you jostled your throbbing thumb, “I deserve it. It was a really bad punch.”

“It was.”

You looked up at him.

“How would you know?”

“I’m the Eye of Zaun.”

Your curious gaze wandered over to the colossal window behind Silco and then back to him, performing a mental map of the Last Drop versus where the incident had occurred, realizing he may have watched the whole ordeal through his office window. The thought was outrageously funny.

Silco stared at you, his palms still propping him over his desk, head tilted down, shoulders risen like a tiger right before it pounced, both eyes, orange and green almost daring you to call him out.

You pursed your lips slightly but chose not to push it, nodding understandingly and turning back to the mirror.

“And you were quite loud,” he said after a beat.

Your laughter caught even you off guard, its warm, alien energy fizzling in the quiet room like a crisp champagne. For an ephemeral moment, suspended in time, Silco appeared genuinely thrown off by the noise, his impassiveness evolving into bewilderment as his gaze danced across your features, hovering over the curve of your mouth.

“Next time I get my skull cracked against the pavement, I’ll make sure it’s out of earshot.”

And the mask was back on.

“See to it that you do.”

You fell into an oddly comfortable silence.

“My God,” you said to the mirror in wonder as you wiped your face clean. All that blood, just from the small laceration above your brow. You joked. “Maybe I should just leave it as is. Less likely to be bothered on the streets if it looks like I killed somebody.”

The sound of ruffling papers paused noticeably, and some ancient survival instinct had you not turning to meet his sudden attention. But you certainly felt it, the way his eyes scorched into your untouched skin, leaving flaming trails as they traveled across the planes of your face and over to your quickly reddening ears.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked darkly, and whatever odd tension that had been permeating the air around you squeezed inward like a vice, your fingers tightening involuntarily on the cloth in your hands.

A helpless fish on a hook, your gaze was reeled painstakingly toward Silco’s. He stood, spine impeccably straight, a thin file of papers sitting in one long-fingered hand as he regarded you beneath his brows, carefully composed, yet his eyes glittered with something treacherous.

There was a startling, drawn-out silence as the two of you just looked at each other. The question hung in the air between you, and you didn’t dare touch it, even in jest.

“I told you I’d explain what happened today-“

“No need,” he waved your words away with his free hand like it was a pestering gnat, infuriatingly nonchalant, snapping the folder shut with the other and tossing it onto the desk. He hunched forward, propping himself once more on the desk, hanging his head for a moment as if in deep thought. But it all felt like a strange act, something shifting in his energy, his movements sly, like a snake in the grass.

“One of the stipulations,” his eyes connected with yours, “Was that you protect my daughter.”

And you had. On your day off.

You swallowed, and adamantly avoided his stare as you tore a bandage open with your teeth.

“Yes.”

“And you can’t even make a proper fist.”

Your lips twitched. Fair enough.

“I don’t excel in close combat. Oh, what am I saying? I don’t excel in combat at all.”

A gleaming seafoam green eye narrowed on you in disapproval.

“But I’m good at a distance,” you spoke quickly. If the target isn’t moving. You used the mirror to place the bandage carefully over your head wound. “I can throw.”

“Can you now?” The lilt in his tone told you he somehow already knew this.

Silco suddenly stalked around his desk and you tensed, eyeing him warily, but he passed you, leaning against the front of it and rolling up his sleeves meticulously, slowly exposing the corded muscles of his forearms. He looked at you with feigned disinterest.

“Where are they now?”

It took you a second to understand his question.

“On me.”

“And you didn’t think to use them?” He tsked, and you opened your mouth to retort but he held up a hand to cut you off. “No matter. Show me.”

“Show you what?” you asked lamely, standing up.

“You did say you could throw, did you not?”

“Well, yes, but I-“

You were cut off by your own choked gasp as Silco jerked, a previously unseen dagger materializing out of thin air, whipping across the length of the room and embedding itself into a tiny area of wood encircled by the curling brass detailing that embellished one of the doors to his office.

Speechless, your wide-eyed gaze whipped to him. Silco stood with his hands now in his pockets, an unspeakably haughty expression on his face as he slanted backward against the desk again, eyeing his work.

“Show me,” he repeated, voice low.

You shuddered, desperately trying to ignore the forbidden heat that had begun uncoiling in your belly at this new, unexpected danger. At his striking show of agility.

“Where?” you finally asked when you felt confident enough that your voice wouldn’t crack. Your hand toyed at your belt.

“Anywhere at all, you’re creative,” he shrugged, his head swinging lazily to yours. Something within your chest preened at the compliment, and his half-lidded gaze seemed to acknowledge it with a quick tug of his lips upward.

And it pissed you off.

You saw the challenge plain as day on his arrogant face and decided you’d had enough rolling over for one day.

You could be cocky, too.

“Anywhere at all?” You said after a moment, looking around the room. “I don’t want to break any of your fancy stuff.”

There was another ghost of movement at the corner of his mouth.

“Perfectly replaceable, I assure you.”

Your hand twitched at your side.

“But who will have to do the replacing?”

“Which one of us has the money to?” he countered, something kindling in his eye, as if he was reading your every move. Like a picture book, he'd said last time.

“So, I can look forward to a life of indentured servitude?”

“Continue talking and you won’t be looking forward to a life at all.”

This was going to be so unbelievably embarrassing if it didn’t work.

You looked down at your thumb for a long moment. “But this is usually my throwing hand…”

Silco sighed with impatience. And you flung it then, your own dagger whirling toward the door with the same, practiced flick of the wrist. With a satisfying thunk, you landed your mark, planting it centimeters away from his, inside the impossibly small space. The two of you watched as the handles clacked against each other at the impact, slowly vibrating to a stop.

“No matter,” you finished.

And it was only in the growing, strained silence following that you wondered whether you’d really screwed up, if maybe you’d been a little too impulsive this time, misreading the challenge in his eyes. Your heart rate began to crawl upward and sideways, like a rocket trying to escape its gravitational pull, half expecting him to turn and fling another dagger in your direction.

Only Silco’s uncorrupted eye was visible, peering forward, unblinking, his features entirely unreadable from where you stood to the side. A slow, feline smirk began to stretch at the corner of his lips, and you flinched when he pushed off from the desk, prowling toward the door, the floorboards creaking lightly under his weight.

He halted, and you watched the tendons in his wiry forearms tense as he extracted his dagger from the door, flipping it in a habitual motion that you knew well. Silco then enveloped the handle of your dagger, and there was an oddly drawn out pause as he stood there, thumb absentmindedly stroking across the aluminum. Heat licked across your skin, unbidden, as you watched each finger tightened in tandem as he finally extricated it, lifting it to eye level, his brows knitting as he examined it.

With a quick wrist flick, he clasped the blade side between his fingers, stalking back toward you, the tension-filled gap between you closing, stealing your breath along with, until all that remained was a vacuous, all-consuming black hole as he stopped in front of you. Head not moving, your eyes fell to where the toes of his boots were planted no less than a foot away from yours, and then crawled back up his form to finally connect with his searing gaze.

It was terrifying, the thrilling hunger you found.

And the way that yours answered in kind.

Silco offered you your blade silently, handle-first, but squeezed his fingers before you could pull it away. He leaned in just slightly, head canted down in a way that his breath lightly fanned across your forehead.

His voice was the finest silk.

“Next time, don’t hesitate.”

<3 <3 <3

I'm still pretty new to tumblr so if you enjoyed and/or feel inclined to help me get my writing out into the ether, I'd be ever so grateful. But even if not, I am still just very happy to be here existing in such an amazing fandom.

Here's the AO3 link if you want to kudos or comment or check out my other works! Your feedback means the world! Thank you!

Stay unhinged, my friends

Love, Sulty <3

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#take a seat #silco #silco arcane #silco x reader #silco x you #reader insert #arcane #silco fanfic

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kosi-annec · 1 year

Text

BNHA season 2 stain arc next! The second half of the season~

My review of Season 2 part 2:

Oh boy, every introverts worst nightmare; social interaction. If I was in deku's situation, I would've acted like I didn't knew wit the man was talking about www

Iida stop lying to your friends please TOT

Yay aizawa isn't a mummy lol. I still can't believe deku only got 1 offer, like cmon, even zero has more than him. Also, mineta shut the fuck up, like you're any better

LMAO aizawa warning them to be careful with their choice of hero name cuz of his own experience

Hero name time!! Omfg aoyama's hero name I can't 😭😭 thank you tsu for being normal www

Aww lil deku comin up with all might themed names, tho ngl a lil embarrassing if he chose one of em

Ok the fact that denki knows who Hemingway, an American novelist, shows that he might not be academically smart, but he's not entirely stupid. Headcanon that he reads english books on his free time

Hhhhh great flashback to tensei q-q, nooo iida pls you deserve to take on the name

LMAO bakugo not being able to keep a hero name he's came up with 😂

Mineta, why tf are you still here... Ofc he'd go for mt. Lady

Pft all might being terrified of grand tornino, wonder how hard his training was under him

Oh god... Iida off to do a dumb decision...

Hhhh iida pls they're your friends, but this is what happens when you're being powered by the need for vengeance

Omg I forgot about the first introduction to grand torino LMAO and him pretending to be a feeble old man with a bad memory, he's an old gremlin that can kick ass, he's like yoda but sassy www

And now deku getting his ass handed to him, srsly how tf is his back not broken, I mean with the speed grand torino goes at, it would at least crack somethin

Ah yes, bakugo and best jeanist, good luck in trying to stitch in some manners in this boy lol

LMAO poor Momo and Kendo, thinking they'll get to do some action pact crime fighting stuff when in actuality they're just gonna model

Oh boy, endeavor... Yeah you tell him shoto!!

Deku treating his quirk like something that isn't his makes a lot of sense, since he's never really had a quirk before so he doesn't really see it as an extension of himself. Gotta love seeing a protagonist that's powerful but obviously has a long way to go and still needs training to hone their skills

BAHAHA BAKUGO'S HAIR 😭😭

Oh shit, the whole nomu situation and the multiple quirks thing. I kinda feel bad for the people that get turned to nomus, like pretty sure they didn't want to lose all sense of self

"Someone as crazy as this" that's rich coming from you shigaraki.

Oh god iida no... I get ur going through some emotional shit and want justice, but u don't wanna be a murderer, even if this is a villain

"We're not going to go after anyone that big" ya jinxed yourself grand torino

Thank you mister blue guy that iida is interning under whose name I can't remember for trying to put some sense into him

OH SHIT TIME FOR SOME ACTION! GO KICK SOME NOMU ASS GRAND TORINO!!

Iida nooo he's so tunneled vision for vengeance...

Endeavor is a terrible parent, but dammit he's good at his job as a hero, minus the being nice part

I still don't really see how tensei wasn't a good hero, I mean from what I could tell he was definitely living up to the title of "hero". No matter, DEKU ZOOMING IN TO SAVE THE DAY!! YEAH SHOTO ALSO COMING IN TO SAVE SOME ASS!!!

EW OH GOD I FORGOT ABOUT CLOSE UP ON THE LICKING EW

God this whole fight is just amazing, this is where deku and shoto become actual friends and iida gets some sense into him

Shoto and iida bonding over their shared past narrowed tunnel vision out of absolute resentment

"BECOME THE HERO HE WANTED YOU TO BE" now look whose giving the inspirational words! Shoto has learned a lot from deku lol

YEAH GET UP IIDA BACK ON YOUR FEET SOLDIER GO SAVE SHOTO FROM GETTING AMPUTATED! Oh and a cool kick flip too!

iida as the legs, deku as the arms, and shoto as the body, love these 3

Ya know, I realized that they still kinda treat nomus as if they're actually human, like they still arrest them and try to talk to ee. Which ig makes sense since there are mutant quirks and anyone can look like anything, so the whole reveal that nomus aren't human - well not anymore at least - would be a much bigger deal, even though it is kinda obvious

"My friend might be in danger" THE FIRST TIME HE SAYS THEY'RE FRIENDS YESSS

Ok damn giving some vocals onto endeavor's song aight then

Gotta appreciate that the pro heroes, adults, are being responsible and making sure the interns, teenagers, are safe. Yeah they're hero students, but they're still kids

"Our fight against the hero killer probably only took about 10 minutes" that was only 10 minutes??? Damn time feels a lot different when kicking ass huh

OH SHIT FLYING NOMU! OH SHIT DEKU!! OH GROSS THE TONGUE!!! OH FUCK STAIN TO THE RESCUE??

Oh boy stain's final speech... And also creepy ass face reveal, never noticed he doesn't actually have a nose

Oh lol it's the dog man cop www woof

I get that they're trying to avoid the abuse of quirks (which feels a lil dumb considering what happens in the future) but also, iida was going to die along with that other pro hero, like what else were they going to do?? They're kids yes, but the fact that they are means that using their quirks was literally the only thing they could do. Also mentioning shoto's dad like that really didn't feel necessary jeez

Lmao yeah shoto, the dog cop would've started with that

"Was that a boy~" LMAO GUNHEAD

Hhhh oh boy, these children need therapy I swear. But thank god for shoto breaking the ice, the hand crusher www

Oh fuckkk stain inadvertently helped shigaraki get what he wanted, which I think might've not been wat he meant to do but oh well

Now time to see everyone else's internship!

Bakugo my dude you are not cut out in making the public feel safe ya dumbass. Uraraka learning hand to hand combat! Poor Momo and kendo, barely get to do actual heroing. Tho the same could be said for kirishima and tetsutetsu, but at least it's an activity that's actually helping the community. But hey at least jirou seems to be actually doing some action pact heroing

Froppy your sense of cute is very different from everyone else's, including mine www

LMAO BAKUGO'S HAIR 😂

Denki thinking stain was cool, another lil tid bit of info in the suspecting he is the UA traitor

Eyy spiderman doing what he's good at! But deku's learned a few new tricks too- oop and he slips lol

WHY IS MINETA STILL HERE?? HE IS A HAZARD TO PRIVACY I SWEAR

Ah time to drop a info bomb. First time we actually get conformation and explanation on nomus, one for all, and all for one

Looking back on all this, I realized just exactly how much pressure there is on deku, like he's being entrusted to defeat this who-knows-how-old villain and he's just 15 like boi

Ah yes, Mt. Lady and Midnight interaction. Mineta fuck off

Huh didn't realize that the ranking thing was actually from midterms, thought that was the actual ranking of the written test. Lmao gotta love momo, we all need that smart friend in our life. Oh I did not notice this lil kiribaku interaction >.> tho that's a good way to make him tutor you www

Monoma has a really interesting way to show his concern for the safety of his people when it comes to the danger 1A attracts, like he said it in a way to insult them but he was also pointing out how if they keep this up they'll be endangering those around them. But they can't really help it tho, so he can't be mad at them for that, just his feelings of rivalry getting in the way as usual

Bakugo at it again with his anger issues and overachieving complex (is that what you call it)

Written exam monologue~

LMAO NEZU JUST CHILLING IN AIZAWA'S SCARF THAT'S ADORABLE

Teaching them that retreating is a valid option is really important, because they gotta learn that retreating can be used as a good strategy to get reinforcements when they're in a fight they can't win. A lesson bakugo really needs to learn

Kiri & Sato vs Cementos. Gotta say, they weren't very smart on how'd they deal with cementos. Like, he clearly has the advantage in this scenario

Tsu & Tokoyami vs Ectoplasm. THE HYBRID DUO!! Bird man and frog girl! "Tho apparently after a 2nd or 3rd song in karaoke, that number goes up.." LMAO WHAT I NEVER NOTICED THAT. Huh, I always thought tokoyami could do the whole fusing with dark shadow the whole time, or maybe that's my gold fish memory failing me. Oh hey! Tsu did actually ate the handcuffs, like it was shown for just a short second. Lmao gotta love dark shadow's personality

Iida & Ojiro vs Power Loader. LMAO OJIRO RIDING IIDA I CAN'T😭 and iida basically being a beyblade and yeeting him too www

Shoto & Momo vs Aizawa. Dawww momo... Her insecurities and doubt be hitting her, damn that's a mood. Oof, yeah aizawa has a point, shoto need to learn better communication with his partner and momo's gotta learn to trust herself again; not comparing herself to someone completely different. YASSS GO QUEEN!! SHOW EM WHAT YOU'RE MADE OF!!! Lmao, shoto no she's just tearing up a lil, she's not sick

Uraraka & Aoyama vs 13. PFFT I DIDN'T REALIZE AOYAMA MADE A PUN. Ah yes, the moment uraraka realized her feelings, thanks sparkle man. "I'm a mini battle hero" lol yes you are

Mina & Denki vs Nezu. God those 2 didn't stood a chance, like what were the teachers expecting. BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CASUALLY MENTION NEZU'S BACKSTORY LIKE THAT😭

Jirou & Koda vs Present Mic. OH DAMN THAT IS LOUD, RIP MY EARS. As much as koda's charades were funny, would've been nice to see him doing like JSL or something, like would be in character and some neat representation, oh well this is why we have headcanons. Hey, just cuz koda can speak with animals doesn't mean he has to like all of them

Hagakure & Shoji vs Snipe. Still find it fucking hilarious that this man's quirk is the power of glock, like it's not even an mutation, he just carries a gun. "YOU'RE A STUDENT I RESPECT WOMEN" LMAO SNIPE 😂😭 AS HE SHOULD

Sero & Mineta vs Midnight. I said it before and I'll say it again, why tf is mineta even here, he is a menace and a danger to the safety of the girls, like bruh. If he's gonna be in UA at least show him getting into detention for his behavior. Huh, lil bastard finally gets what being a hero is about, tho he still has a long way to go on the character development, like idk respecting boundaries

HOOO BOY IT'S THE BIG ONE NOW LETS GO

Deku & Bakugo vs All Might. THE MAIN COURSE HAS COME. God dammit bakugo, please I get you wanna win but you can't beat all might, for fuck sake get it in ur head and stop thinking with your ego. Hold up, why does a building have denki's name lmao??? BAHAHA LOL DEKU PUNCHING HIM, BAKUGO DESERVED IT. You said it all might, these 2 really need some counciling like boi. OOF HOW ARE THEY BOTH STILL ALIVE LIKE THAT LOOKED LIKE IT COULD'VE KILLED THEM?! Bakugo is someone that wins the way he wants to win no matter what, and deku is someone that just helps people even if they don't ask for it, this is just who they are. This is why they clash a lot, and a few other reasons. Tho they'll learn to have some equal footing, some day

LMAO deku with his ass up, and damn bakugo looks so peaceful asleep tf??

IT'S FUCKING DABI, hello missing todoroki child (started as a theory and is now confirmed, thanks spoilers) tho gotta say his voice isn't as deep as I remember it

Shopping montage✨ omg mineta PLEASE, WHO INVITED HIM??

Jeez shigiraki's theme song thing is creepy as hell. OH FUCK IT'S THAT CREEPY SMILE HHHH

Hol up it's only been 3 months since class started??? Damn, feels a bit short

#sharing my brain juice #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #fandom talks #acessment

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itsme-tori · 2 years

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I love both Vi and Silco and I hate it whenever people try to pit them against each other in who did and didn't loved Jinx. News flash, they both did. One hundred percent. They were just traumatized people trying their best for their blue haired, bomb-making gremlin but since they're human, they're bound to make mistakes.

In Vi's case, she always looked out for her family, especially Powder. She cared for her little sis and would never let any harm come to her. She encouraged her insecure sister to do her best. She defended her when she made a mistake. Vi loved her sister and always will. All it took was one night to ripped them apart.

Vi was in prison for 5+ years, being beaten, bloodied and bruised. Tossed aside like some pathetic dog. Locked in a cage with no hope of getting out. Can imagine that? 15 years old and she was throw in prison with no care, to suffer for the rest of her days. She 100% regrets hitting her sister and calling her a jinx (which I remind you was not intentional, she just got angry). All the years of beating herself up for her actions, wishing, fighting, for just one more chance to see her sister again. Just to make things right again.

When she gets released, her goal is to find her sister and take back all the things she said. When she finds out that Jinx is not only working for Silco but is also treated like a daughter, she immediately goes to the conclusion that her sister is being brainwashed by Silco. Why would she think anything else! To Vi, Silco is the man who out of nowhere, for no reason whatsoever, ruined her entire family and killed her father all in a single night. She doesn't trust him and she has every right not to.

When she finally is able to see her sister again, she is shocked to find out her sister now goes by the name Jinx, which used to be the source of all her baby sister's pain. But not just Jinx's pain, also Vi's too. Calling her sister a jinx is the biggest regret in her life. Calling her Jinx is just, in her mind, basically saying that her sister is worthless trash. She thinks that Jinx is taking on the name just out of spite for Vi, so she calls her Powder, trying to basically say "It's ok Powder, I'm here now. I forgive you. You're not a jinx. I'll never leave you again." She isn't rejecting her sister, she is rejecting the name she now goes by.

But she doesn't know that it's the complete opposite for Jinx. She wants to be called Jinx. Powder is just name of the girl who always messed up, who killed her family, who was A jinx, who made Vi leave her. Jinx isn't that at all. She is strong, she is helpful, she isn't left behind.

Vi didn't have much chances to reunite properly with her sister during the three days they've seen each other (which I remind you again, was only brief moments. Times which Jinx or someone else puts her through stressful situations). Something I don't see people bring up is that during the bridge scene Vi wanted to come back! She just wanted to put Caitlyn out of harms way first. She said to Caitlyn "I'll be right back." after placing her down in the alleyway. But just like in episode 3, she was stop by enforcers.

During the tea party, Vi is in a difficult situation. She is tied up and forced to make decisions she never wants to make. Like people get so mad at Vi for not choosing to kill Caitlyn to be with Jinx, like excuse me? You really expect Vi to kill someone important to her just to be with her sister? Hell no. Vi isn't that kind of person. Yes she's willing to do alot for her sister but murder is not one of them. She's willing to leave Caitlyn though ("We can just go. We'll leave and never come back."). Just to be with her sister.

When she called the names of their dead family members, she isn't trying to hurt Jinx. She is just trying to get her sister back on her side. To be her sister again. She doesn't know that Jinx is haunted by the memories of the past.

She never hated her. They will always be sisters and nothing is ever going to change that.

Now for Silco, oh my do people just love saying all sorts of bullshit about his relationship with Jinx. How he's manipulating her, only using her for his goals, lying to her constantly, being in a romantic/sexual relationship with Jinx (I was so horrified seeing people actually think that. I may or may not make a seperate post about this, give me some feedback).

Look I get that he's basically a pretty shit guy at times and that he isn't the greatest person but that doesn't mean the he isn't capable of caring for someone at all.

Silco was a man who was close friends with Vander, to the point of calling him his brother. But Vander betrayed him, tried to kill him in one of the worst ways possible (and he had a knife! He could've just used that to deal with Silco quickly and painlessly) and left a scar that Silco would never be able to rid himself of. Can you imagine that? Being betrayed and almost killed by someone close to you? Someone you cared for? Being left behind like some disposible garbage? That would leave a HUGE impact on anyone no matter how sane you may be.

Silco becomes a hardened man due to his experiences growing up. He thought he killed the part of him that knew how to love, how to trust, how to be human. That was until he met that little crying girl in the alleyway. She threw herself in his arms and it was at that moment he decided he was going be there to guide her through her pain, so that she won't be alone like he was.

He took care of her, protected her, comforted her like any father would. Whenever she made a mistake he would never be mad at her and ask for her side of the story. Whenever she has a problem, she goes to him for help. When she killed those enforcers in episode 4, he's angry but he doesn't lay a finger on her to harm her (he only takes the pen away cause she wasn't listening to him.) Had it been anyone else they would've been goners.

Another note, he doesn't lie to her. He didn't know Vi was alive at all until episode 5. Jinx knows he killed Vander ("He took everything from us. Right here he stabbed Vander in the back.") He's tells her the truth! If he wanted to just manipulate her, he could've just never told her about it but he does!

People say that Silco is a bad father because he dIdN't TaKe HeR tO tHeRaPy!!!!! New flash, there isn't any in their world, even if it did would it have been available to Zaunites? Funny. Besides Silco also needed therapy himself. The whole baptism scene is his own way of therapy, it's basically him telling her "My daughter, in this river where I became the man I am today, is the one I want you to drown Powder, the past that haunts you so very much. I want you to be brave, to be strong and to never let those demons hold you any longer." And it works. We see her after the baptism being all happy and sloving the hexgem.

Yes she's suffering from actual mental illnesses but Silco doesn't have the knowledge we have, it's unfair to judge him with our standards.

When he finds out that Vi is alive, his immediate reaction is to kill Vi, which isn't good but he doesn't do it in a way like 'I have to get rid of Vander's daughter because she can ruin my plans for the Nation of Zaun.' No. He wants to kill her cause she's the only one who can take away his daughter. His Jinx. That one person he loves. Remember he has as much abandonment issues as Jinx.

When Jinx finds out that Vi was alive and Silco didn't tell her, she is pissed. She stabs him in the face and pretty much disrespects him. But he doesn't shove her away. He insteads tells her that wanted to protect her and that Vi and Caitlyn are just there for the stone. People like to say that this was just manipulation tactic to keep her on the team cause he needed her to finish the weapon. But how do we really know that? Yes Vi did tell him that she was going to find her sister but do you think he believes that? She's literally with an ENFORCER and Silco has a bunch of trust issues to begin with. If Vi doesn't trust Silco, he also doesn't trust her. Silco also doesn't want Jinx to leave him because he loves her.

When he finds her injured on the bridge, his reaction is one you would expect out any father. He holds her gently in his arms and doesn't even give the hexgem another glance, he instead carries her to be saved by the doctor. Why? Because she's his daughter.

It's because of that fact is why he can't give her up to Piltover. All those years thinking he could give up anything for the Nation of Zaun. But not her. Never her.

Even when she kidnaps him, he isn't angry at her. Even when she wants to go with Vi, he isn't angry at her. Even when he was gunned down by her, he isn't angry at her. Not even then.

Because she was his undoing. She doesn't have to cry, she'll always be perfect in his eyes.

#silco #vi #jinx #arcane #i love them #if only vi and silco would've teamed up to raise jinx but that was never gonna happen so yeah #blaming the council #these messed up people needed proper help but they never got it #get everyone therapy #will defend silco and vi for as long as I'm breathing #arcane meta #kuro-tori #edit (june 20): some of my thoughts about each relationship has changed over the last three months (with the new info i've gained)#but my point still stands #they loved her and i'll die on that hill

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eldritchcreatureofwords · 2 years

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Inspired by this.

__________

She was such a quiet kid, at first. Sevika barely noticed her, and was more then slightly glad for that. She wasn't sure what had possessed Silco to adopt the kid; she knew, or suspected, that he'd been after the pink one- Vi- for more then one reason. A protégé, and another way to get back at Vander; taking what he loved most, making it his own. He would never admit to being that petty, but he was absolutely that fucking petty. But this? This wasn't Vi. This was Vi's neurotic, way-too-smart-for-her-own-good, clingy, nervous, insecure little sister who had put gum in Sevika's hair twice and once blown up her own bed. This was the kid who's actions had resulted in the pure evaporation of her arm, which she knew because the little shit admitted it to Silco.

Vi was dead, which...was sort of a shame, really. She hadn't wanted Vander dead, and she hadn't wanted the kids dead. She'd wanted- -hell. It didn't matter what she wanted. What mattered was what was, and living in what could have been or you wanted to be was pointless and a waste of time. But the point was, it was sort of a waste the kid had gotten blown to hell and gone. She could have been a beast if she'd gotten the chance to grow up. Useful as hell. This one wasn't useful. This one started out quiet and timid, scared of her own shadow which was strange enough, because again, gum. Twice. She hadn't been afraid of Sevika a day in her life, despite the fact that she was six foot four and grown men were so terrified of her she'd seen one piss himself- literally- once. But when she came here, she crept around like a tiny shadow, silent and skittish and prone to apologizing approximately two hundred times if you so much as expressed irritation at her. She wasn't sure when that changed; but she did remember how, and it was the day she woke up to find her shimmer-boosted arm absolutely covered in blue and pink doodles of rhinos, monkeys, and scowling grim faces she was pretty sure was supposed to be herself.

Snarling in irritation, she spent three hours trying to get that shit off, and succeeded only in scuffing the metal and cutting her thumb on a loose sliver. (And to add insult to injury, the little gremlin was in the corner of the room coloring when she did, so her snarled curses had to turn into a hissed "Son of a bi-scuit." That made her feel like a naughty ten year old again.) It seemed to flip a switch. Maybe she realized she was untouchable, maybe she realized Sevika wasn't going to attack a twelve year old; or maybe Sevika somehow reminded her of her ex-sister, or was just familiar. Whatever it was, she was suddenly everywhere.

And it was very, very hard to be intimidating and threatening when a tiny human was literally climbing you like a monkey on shimmer, shoving her foot in your face and swinging from your shoulders.

Even moreso when on one occasion, she was in the dead-center of negotiating a deal regarding protection money, doing her absolute best to ignore her passenger- Jinx, as she called herself now, not Powder any more, and what the hell was up with that?- who had been riding her shoulders nearly non stop for three days. She had made it painfully clear that anyone who mentioned Jinx was in for a bad time, and it seemed to be going well enough, until, mid-sentence, she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder and then had to struggle, suddenly, to keep from slumping to the side like she'd just had a fucking stroke.

Her arm was heavy, and dead, and it wouldn't or couldn't move; she hissed, trying not to show her hand, but it wasn't her arm the contact's eyes were on; it was above her head, on the tiny human, and from behind her head a very, very small whisper came; "Oops. That's what that does." Jinx discovered, that day, that even the most tolerant impromptu pony bucks when you push it too far, dumped unceremoniously on the floor as Sevika rose and twisted in one fluid motion.

She also discovered that Sevika was just as scary one-armed as she was two, sent scurrying back to Silco with ringing ears from the swat to the back of her head and harsh words to keep her hands to herself and not touch things she didn't understand alike. (She never, ever imagined she would find herself called into Silco's office to be scolded for making Jinx cry.) (She really never ever imagined herself, as punishment, seated cross-legged on a plush carpet, streaks of every color under the rainbow in her hair and a tiny teacup in her massive hand, zoning out as she was introduced to no less then four stuffed toys as 'Ms. Grumpypants von Scowly'.)

(She really, really, really never expected, a week later, to be showing the little gremlin what she'd done wrong and how, exactly, the arm worked; she wasn't able to keep the tiny monster away or off of her, so she figured she might as well make her useful. At first it was just holding things, and then, over time, a full second set of hands.) She wasn't sure what made her so attractive to tiny humans, but she also quickly realized that the only way to get five minutes of peace and quiet- ("Sevika, look at this! Sevika, see what I did?" "Sevika, Silco says you gotta let me play with you!" Sevika, Sevika, Sevika, she'd never hated the sound of her own name more-) she was going to have to resort to extreme measures. Extreme measures turned out to be tape. The good thing about this particular tiny human was that everything was exciting, everything was a game, and Sevika ruthlessly and shameless exploited this- and she would not be made to feel bad about it, no matter how many times Silco arched an eyebrow at her disapprovingly. So when she finally, finally cracked and needed to be left alone for ten Goddamn minutes, if only to be allowed to swear like an adult, she grinned like a shark and hoisted the gremlin into the air by the back of her shirt. "Check this out, kid," She said, pinning her in place with one hand and pulling the tape taught with the other. "You can see out the top window from there, right?" "This is cool!" Came the reply, as she happily wiggled against the wall. "I'm as tall as you!" "Yeeeeeah." She rolled her eyes, fighting the smile that wanted to twitch at the corner of her lips. Sometimes the little gremlin could be- sort of cute, maybe. "Look, just- hang out here." "Hang out." Po- Jinx- giggled, wiggling again. "I'm hanging out! Like laundry!" "I'll come get you in a couple-a while." "I'll hang out here!" Okay, getting old. She sighed, tested the strength of the tape holding the tiny human. "Yeah. I heard you." "You won't forget to come get me down, right?" "Sure thing, gremlin. Just give me a little while. I'll come get ya." (She may have gotten drunk and forgotten about the tiny human wall hanging.) (That may be at least part of why Silco's face turned a shade of purple that was, quite frankly, pretty flattering.) (She was 'Ms. Grumpypants von Scowly' for three fucking weeks after that.)

#arcane #sevika #powder #my writing

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writtenbykat · 3 years

Text

Mischief Night (Jilytober Day 22)

Prompt: Lily shows the marauders muggle Halloween tricks @jilytoberfest

“Muggles celebrate Halloween too?” James asked, incredulous.

“Of course they do!”

“But they don’t even know about ghosts and trolls, and the like.”

“Well, it’s more of a superstitious holiday,” Lily clarified. “It has origins in many different cultures. It was believed to be a Gaelic tradition, but was then influenced by the spread of Christianity. The version today is most similar to the Christian ideology, but really the version they celebrate today is more about dressing up in costumes, playing little pranks, and getting candy.”

“They play pranks, and are rewarded for it with candy?” Sirius chimed in.

“Well there’s this tradition of Miggy Night–Mischief Night,” she clarified, “I don’t know all the details of its origin, but because of the old religious beliefs surrounding Halloween– Muggles thought little gremlins and creatures came out to play tricks. And muggle children used it as an excuse to behave badly, then blame it on the spirits of Halloween. Now, it’s just the day before Halloween and people play little tricks on one another. They don’t really believe all the stuff about evil and creatures, but it’s tradition now.”

Sirius’ eyes lit up, and he glanced at James meaningfully. “Well I, for one, think it’s about time to introduce some more muggle traditions here at Hogwarts.”

“Oh no you don’t!” Lily protested, “I was just explaining that Muggles have Halloween traditions of their own. Wizards don’t have a monopoly on the holiday.”

“Relax, Evans,” Sirius chided, “I won’t do anything too crazy. Just a few harmless pranks, really.” His face contorted to the picture of innocence, but Lily clearly wasn’t fooled for a second if her firm glare was anything to go by.

“On a completely unrelated note, I just remembered Prongs and I have somewhere we need to be!”

“We do?” James asked.

“Yeah, mate. Remember?” Sirius emphasized, “Really important things to do.” James rolled his eyes at his friend’s overt scheming, but bid Evans goodbye with a transparent excuse about running quidditch plays.

She only rolled her eyes and returned to her work. “None of these ‘harmless pranks’ better reach me!” she called after them.

Over the next week, he and the other marauders planned out their various tricks to celebrate the muggle Halloween tradition. They’d planned a few for the whole school, but little did his fellow marauders know– but he’d planned a few for them as well.

The first of his tricks went off without a hitch.

It was announced by Sirius’ infuriated yell. “Prongs! What the hell did you do to my shampoo?” He stormed out of the bathroom, towel loosely wrapped around his waist– his hair a brilliant gleaming platinum.

“Happy miggy night!” James called, escaping the dorm before Sirius could retaliate.

The next was a group effort. With lots of scheming and sneaking, and a little bribery to a few of the house elves: the entirety of Slytherin house arrived at breakfast only to have their ties and robes change color from green to blue, red, or yellow. Now all sporting uniforms of the three other houses, the Slytherins grew increasingly irritated. Especially when they discovered that any attempt to charm their robes back to normal only resulted in a different house color, now their hair changing color to match.

The marauders had to exit the great hall quickly, unable to conceal their laughter. They were followed by a volley of hexes and jinxes from the Slytherin table– the students having no doubt who had been responsible for their color changing appearances.

James found he loved mischief night. So much so, that he had no qualms spreading “mischief night” to an all day event.

They’d charmed Filch’s shoes with an untraceable extension charm. Every time he stepped down a new corridor, the charmed shoes released a handful of stink bombs– not detonating until he’d reached the end of the hallway. He spent his entire afternoon cleaning up stink bombs, and was unable to catch the culprit responsible– even though it seemed like they were following his every step.

Peter found that none of his school supplies seemed to obey the laws of gravity. One second he’d be taking notes in transfiguration, the next his parchment was flying in the air. McGonagall had scolded him thrice for not taking down important information for N.E.W.T.s.

Remus took a large bite out of a chocolate bar– only to find it had been replaced and transfigured from a bar of soap. He spent the rest of the afternoon hiccupping bubbles.

Lily observed this all with mild amusement and a roll of her eyes. “They’re going to get you back, you know,” she’d said to James, watching Peter’s parchment fly away from him for the fourth time that day– despite his best efforts.

“I’d like to see them try,” James responded jovially. And try they had. He’d successfully avoided a series of unsuccessful pranks from his fellow marauders all day. An edible jelly legs jinx slipped into his tea had resulted in Remus unable to get his legs to cooperate, after James switched their cups at breakfast. A vial of some solution missed James by a fraction of an inch, and only due to his seeker-quick reflexes. He’d dodged the mystery vial, but its perpetrator hadn’t been so lucky. Sirius had spent the rest of the day with his (newly platinum blonde) hair pasted down to his head– unable to do anything about it. James laughed, running his hands through his hair and strutting off down the corridor. Poor Pete hadn’t even been able to finish his attempt at James, before he found himself sticking to every surface he touched.

No, try as they might, the other marauders hadn’t been able to get him back for all of mischief night (day).

The next morning James woke, feeling well rested, and ignoring the murderous glares thrown his way by his roommates. By lunch they seemed to have forgiven him, and were back to their normal cheerful selves. By night they were all joking as usual, Sirius even complementing the ingenious of James’ mischief day pranks.

He smiled to himself as he got ready for the Halloween feast, and subsequent party after. The feast passed quickly and uneventfully, other than the flask of firewhiskey the marauders had smuggled down to spike their goblets of pumpkin juice.

“I’m really glad we’re all friends,” James said, as they made their way to Gryffindor tower for the annual booze fueled Halloween party. “You guys are just the best. Although you didn’t manage to get me on mischief day!”

Remus, Sirius, and Peter shared a knowing look, but laughed along.

They all helped themselves to the drinks, and he must not have eaten enough because it seemed like the liquor was making his lips looser than normal.

“I don’t really like you very much,” James informed a fifth year boy, who had been doing his best to imitate James and the other marauders all year. The boy constantly dogged their steps and was attempting to pull off the same pranks they had in their fifth year. The boy’s face went slack, and James realized he’d spoken out loud. “I am so sorry!” he apologized, “It’s just that you’re quite annoying, following us around all the time. Just be your own person, mate.” He slapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stop the word vomit. “Sorry!” he called after the boy’s retreating figure.

“You should wear your hair like that more often.”

“I had a crush on you in third year!”

“I think you’re pretty fit, for a bloke.”

“I do think I look pretty cool, playing with that snitch.”

The words just wouldn’t stop spilling out of him.

After one too many unintentional truths, James retreated to his room– determined not to do any more damage tonight.

“Potter? You in here?” a dangerously soft and familiar voice called.

She was the last person he wanted to talk to in his current state, and tried his best to stay silent. “Yeah, in here,” his voice betrayed him again.

Lily Evans pulled back the hangings around his bed and took a seat next to him.

“Are you okay? It’s not like you to leave a party early.”

“No,” he confessed honestly, “I keep saying things to people that I don’t mean to say. They’re true, but I really don’t mean to say them. Must’ve had too much to drink.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, noncommittally. “Like you keep spitting out the truth, no matter how hard you fight it?” He nodded. “Potter, do you know the effects of veritaserum?”

“Yes,” the answer fell from his lips– understanding following soon after. “You’re saying the boys spiked my drink, Evans?” She nodded her confirmation.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” she said, “The effects of the potion should wear off in a few hours. And I don’t think anyone was too offended by anything you said tonight.”

“Good. Gah! That’s just humiliating.” he threw his arms over his face in a belated attempt to conceal his blushing cheeks. She let out a light laugh at his obvious embarrassment. “I think I’ll just hide away here until it wears off then,” he said resignedly.

She was quiet for a moment. He removed his hands from his face to glance at her in question. “Do you have any deep dark secrets you’d like to confess about me?”

He felt his heart race into overdrive and fought to keep his lips pressed shut. He and Evans had just become friends this year. They had been leaning towards that something more lately, but he didn’t want to come on too strong, in case she didn’t feel the same way.

“I–” he tried to force the truth down. “I really–”. He clamped a hand over his mouth as if that could prevent the truth from spilling out. “I really like you Evans. Like I like you a lot.” He couldn’t stop the torrent of truth now that he’d started. “I’ve liked you since I was twelve years old, and would pull on your plaits to get your attention. And I wanted to give you space, and we’ve become friends this year! And I’ve loved being your friend, but I have feelings for you, Lily. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I’d understand if–”

He was cut off as Lily leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his rambling mouth. The kiss lingered for a moment before she leaned back slightly, their noses still brushing. “I like you too, you daft idiot,” she said, and kissed him again.

James knew he would have been rambling incoherently, if every single thought hadn’t flown out of his head at the feeling of being snogged by Lily Evans.

“Well that didn’t work at all how we’d planned,” complained Sirius from where they eavesdropped outside the dormitory door.

Remus just gave a shrug. “There’s always next year.”

Read on AO3 or FFN

And as always let me know what you thought!!

Also: I have a very busy weekend coming up, so the next few chapters might be a little late, but i’ll do my best to catch up and keep on schedule!! sorry in advance!

#jily #jilytober #jilytober fest #jilytober fest 2021 #tropes challenge #prompt22 #halloween #mischief night #james is the prankster king #we are all just his humble subjects #also in this headcannon James is really hot. That's important.#Not sure why #It is just very important to me

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character-scrolls · 4 years

Text

Miscellaneous Headcanons: Jinx - TSM (Soften Edition)

Enjoy some cute headcanons of some of my Jinx beans <3

Social Media:

What kind of Youtube channel would they run? - No doubt about it, Jinx would have a book review channel and it would be as cute as heck.

- An incredibly fluffy and sweet vibe, she'd have a large bookcase in her background with cute fairy lights draped over it, maybe some miniture cactus plants sat on some of the shelves.

- Probably uses some soft music box as the background music or something that relates to the book she's reviewing that week.

- Jinx would mostly be a solo reviewer but she might occasionally bring on someone for a collab

- She has gotten some god awful book suggestions, some she does reviews and some she'll outright refuse to do

- Her channel would probably be something like Bookworm or The BookWorm

- One of her videos showcases a mini tour of all the books she's gotten over the years, she's slowly running out of floor space.

What kinda blog would they run? - PASTEL.COLOURS.FOR.DAAAAYS.

- Jinx's blog is dedicated to all things literature from fiction to non-fiction

- She could talk for hours and hours about her favourite authors and the books she's read that week

- Jinx takes photos of her reading space which is normally a comfy chair with a little side table with her current book and a cup of fancy tea steaming next to it and her reading glasses resting on top of her book.

- Though in reality it probably ends up with her sitting up in bed until god knows what time whilst spouting the false promise of 'yes this is the last chapter I'm going to read I swear' wheather that's a book or a really good fanfiction on her ipad that's upto you.

- Jinx's posting shedule would be at least twice a week, depending

- Would for sure have a side blog for fanfiction

Dressing Up:

What would they be for Halloween? - Jinx would be a cute little ghostie for Halloween

- She's not one for being scary so cute is the next best thing

- Jinx would do her best to hand make the costume, it wouldn't be the neatest but hey ghost aren't meant to be

- The costume consists of a white robe with oversized sleeves covering her hands with a lacy hood over the top and short chains would be attached around her ankles

Who would they cosplay as?

- Jinx would for sure cosplay someone like Yuna from Final Fantasy X or Howl from Howls Moving Castle

- She would try and get a high quality costume, trying to get the most accurate looking one

Food:

What type of biscuit would they be? - A gooey chocolate chip cookie, because she's a soft that is all

What type of tea would they be? -A cinnamon blend tea

What type of alcohol would they be? - A sweet red wine

Games:

What kind of Yu-Gi-Oh! Deck do you they have? - For sure, a spellcaster deck probably based around the Silent Magician

- Not just for the obvious reason...also by how it's played

- Not seeing her with any other type

What kind of Pokemon Team do they have? - Possibly Fairy? I'm not entirely sure because they're a number of pokemon I see her having in her team, I have considered like psychic for another option?

What Animal Crossing animal would they be?

- Maybe a sheep? a cute little purple sheep

- Has the cutest cottage aesthetic going on

- Will gift you many, many, many books

Aesthetic: leather bound books, ink stained parchment, burning candle light, dark blues, pastel pinks and purples, empty potion vials, soft touches, sweet smelling purfumes, crytals, the glittering particles of magic, grubby bandages

Extra headcanon:

- The fiction she read throughout her years helped her discover her bisexuality, she had read so many books with different heros and their romantic endevours that it had a profound a effect on her. At first she didn't understand why she liked boys but also girls??? fiction helped her to finally understand that it was perfectly normal to feel like this.

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

Ruben - Jinx: TSM

Social Media:

What kind of Youtube channel would they run? - This boy. THIS BOY. His channel would be a disaster , but a wonderful one..he's trying

- Ruben would do a lot of dumb but harmless challenges, but it would radiate pure chaotic energy

- He's a gremlin with too much time on their hands lets be real here

- Ruben would do a lot of collabs, which are even more diasterous than his solo videos depending which poor soul he asked

- he edits like it's going out of fashion, jumpcuts galore and dumbass sounds effects for days.

- He has a sizable following

- He would for sure drag his boyfriend in for a video...for a price

What kinda blog would they run? - Like this Youtube channel, it's chaotic but is slightly more structured

- Being a avid comic reader, his blog is centred around comic books

- Will have full-on arguements with other people about which character is strongest/best/weakest etc

- "Now you listen here you litle shit, YOU DON'T-"

- His blog is fairly simple in terms of colour scheme, possibly using themes available to him

- Has an inconsistant posting shedule

Dressing Up:

What would they be for Halloween? - Probably a skeleton, surprisingly good at face painting

- He'd use face/body paint for his neck area and hands

- Contacts maybe?

Who would they cosplay as?

- Would for sure cosplay as Beast Boy from Teen Titans, feel like that would be the type of character he'd go for

- Maybe with full-on body paint too?

Food:

What type of biscuit would they be? - Ruben would be like one of those giant biscuits with the chunks of m&ms baked into it

What type of tea would they be? - Iced lemon tea

What type of alcohol would they be? - Apple Cider

Games:

What kind of Yu-Gi-Oh! Deck do you they have? -Elemental Hero deck maybe?

- His love of super heros would play a part in why he chose it

What kind of Pokemon Team do they have? - Possibly flying?

- Has for sure named one of his pokemon Jeremy

What Animal Crossing animal would they be?

-Possibly a squrriel

-Has a mis-matched house because who hell is interior decorating

Aesthetic: Fireworks lighting up the nights sky, scrapped knees, wide grins,bare feet,messy hair constantly running fingers through it,dark greens, off white,loud laughter, dumb jokes.

Extra headcanon:

- Ruben is known for being the town menace, however, when he was younger especially, the elder folk would leave out baked goodies for him to pick up during his escapes. Sometimes they'd even let him hide out near their house if it was safe enough to do so. Now that he's older, they don't let him get away so much anymore but will occasionally leave out a place of treats.

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

Lamina - Jinx: TSM

Social Media:

What kind of Youtube channel would they run? - Lamina's channel would be dedicated to fitness and her vast collection of swords

- She'll do exercise challenges and inbetween she'd show off her latest custom order swords

- Lamina has an intense energy on screen but will give legitmate advice on health and exercise

- She'll only really soften up if she talks about her girlfriend or her swords, getting equally giddy over both

- Her shedule is regular and she has quite a big following

- Swords will always be present in her backgrounds

What kinda blog would they run? - Her blog would focus on her swords and she'd go into detail about their history and origin

- She takes beautiful pictures of them from every angle imaginable

- Lighting is everything, it's gotta hit the blade juuust right

- She poses them with occassionally, doesn't admit it but she enjoys it

- Her colour scheme would be muted and her theme would be minimal

- Lamina tends to post whenever she has a new sword delievered

Dressing Up:

What would they be for Halloween? - Lamina is not usually one to get dressed up, would probably take some persausion

- She'd want it to be low effect, nothing too complicated

- If she had to pick, possibly an apocolyptic survior, no it's not an excuse to show off her cool swords shUT Up

Who would they cosplay as?

- Possibly Erza Scarlet from Fairy Tail

-Because did I mention swords? because she likes s

-Not sure which armor she'd go for

-Possibly would commission someone to make it

Food:

What type of biscuit would they be? - A simple shortbread biscuit

What type of tea would they be? - Green macha tea

What type of alcohol would they be? - Straight whisky

Games:

What kind of Yu-Gi-Oh! Deck do you they have? - Warrior deck or Amazoness deck?

What kind of Pokemon Team do they have? - Fighting type, feel like it fits her

What Animal Crossing animal would they be?

- Wolf possibly? or a bear

- Home filled with work-out equipment

- Grumpy personality?

Aesthetic: Early mornings, sore knuckles, stern looks, hidden softness, sword clashes, the smell of burning, loyal bonds, dark purples and blues,brusied skin and busted lips, quiet nights beneath the stars.

Extra headcanon:

- (tiny spoilers??) After Solus left most of her men dead, Lamina felt geniuely hurt. Her loyalty and trust in Solus was strong. She wouldn't admit but she did shed a few tears when she was alone before completely shutting herself off from her remaining men. They weren't like him, in fact, they were among the ones who mocked her and they only trusted her out of fear. She felt she'd lost her only real connection. Thankfully, she was able to open up again and she couldn't be happier. -------------------------------------------

Katia-Jinx:TSM

Social Media:

What kind of Youtube channel would they run? - Katia would have a fashion channel, she'd showcase the unsual dresses she'd buy and possibly make

- There's always a WIP of a dress on a manniquien in the background of her videos

- She'll sometimes do time lapses of dress

- Katia will occasionally post tutorials on the dresses she makes and leaves materials and such in the description

- She'd talk about the best materials to use to sew with

- Her sewing machine is covered in cute stickers and has become staple in her background

- She keeps a list of themes to explore in a notebook

- Her following is large but not overwhelming

What kinda blog would they run? - A fashion blog

- She'd post lookbooks each with a different theme

- Her colour scheme would be soft galaxy, maybe blue and purple

- Katia loves to talk about the history of fashion and tries to re-create the clothing from different points in history

- Her blog is clean and orginaised to a T. Everything is put into categories

- Katia posts weekly and does at least one lookbook per week

Dressing Up:

What would they be for Halloween? - Katia would be a wailing victorian bride

- With her skills in dress making her costume would be sublime

- She'd go ham on her costume, adding every single detail she can think of to make it look better

- Kinda erie how accurate it would be

Who would they cosplay as? - BOTW!Zelda or Twlight Princess!Zelda

- Again, costume making is her jam! the entire thing would be made from scratch minus a few things like the wig

- She loves the outfits Zelda wears in the games and would study the hell out of them to get the design right

Food:

What type of biscuit would they be? - Simple lemon biscuit

What type of tea would they be? - Earl Grey

What type of alcohol would they be? - Vodka

Games:

What kind of Yu-Gi-Oh! Deck do you they have? - Harpy Lady deck

- She just thinks they're neat

- And she enjoys the play style

What kind of Pokemon Team do they have? - Ghost type

What Animal Crossing animal would they be? - Rabbit

- Her house would be cosy and hidden away within the trees

- Shy personality type

Aesthetic: Silver necklaces, heavy veils, masquerade masks, silk dresses, corset ties, anxious thoughts, strained smiles, secret encounters, fights for freedom, golds, silver, sparkling jewels, touch starved.

Extra headcanon:

- Katia was not always an anxious mess, that only occurred later in life due to the pressure her parents placed on her. As a child, she was playful and witty, she was rebellous and would always find ways to esape her escorting guards. These days the only way she can 'escape' are when she's in her own quaters.

#soft headcanons #headcanon #ocs #fantasy #mage #dark elf #drow

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neonjinxster · 4 years

Text

GENERAL INFO:

Name: Jinx

Nicknames: Jinxie, JJ, Gremlin Child

Age: 14ish

Height: 4'3

Race: Bastard Human???

Gender: Female

Residence: Wanderer, but lives at ???

-----

PHYSICAL INFO:

Clothing: Cat Hoodie with made with many different fabric patches, Random meme shirt underneath hoodie, Dark purple leggings, Way too big mismatching sneakers

Skin: Tan

Hair Style: Shaved sides with a big poof of hair on top

Hair Color: Purple

Pupil: Bright Blue & Bright Green

Sclera: Light Blue & Light Green

Body Type: Thin

-----

PERSONALITY INFO:

Personality: Silly, playful, trickster/prankster, talkative, energetic, sarcastic, hyperactive, just a little bit crazy, risk taker/adventurous, loud, can be a bit annoying sometimes, friendly, protective, self conscious

Likes: Pranks, dimension/Universe wandering, talking, meeting new people, MEMES, fighting ‘bad guys’, singing, (loud)music, spending time with people she likes, the dark, magic

Dislikes: Loneliness, when her ‘family’ gets ‘bossy’ towards her, setting still, magic, Mood killers, following rules, feeling negative emotions, losing control of herself, getting in trouble(And yet she still breaks rules)

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POWERS(She’s still training!):

Weapon summoning(Sewing pin becomes her main weapon, a big heckin hammer. Can summon more than one weapon)

Heightened speed

Enhanced Strength

A ‘mirror’ ability, which allows her to copy another person’s appearance, but not power or abilities. It’s not perfect either, her voice and eye color remains the same when mirroring someone.(It’s mainly to mess with people)

Spell Casting with/without sewing pin(specializes in more destructive magic)

Teleportation((Kinda counts as a spell I think??))(Not extremely far though, good for pranks and getting away from trouble)

Can hover, but not fly(Again to just mess with people, though not for too long)

Durable as HELL

-----

FUN FACTS!:

The hammer is activated when the pink pin ball head lights up, and she slams in against a surface, which causes the hammer to form. She doesn't NEED to activate it but hitting it...but she's just extra like that.

Most of her weapons are either based on toys, or are sort of playful in nature...but still can cause massive amounts of damage.

The two gems on the side in the hammer can retract.

#🧨OOC🧨#💥(dash watching)💥#🖍(pictures of self)🖍#💥(The Jinxster/Jinx;Self)💥#🧨(Muse Info/Facts/etc.)🧨

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independentzaun · 10 months

Text

It was our fault

Drabble set in my verse with @astrxae . Silco, and Sevika chatting after Irisa nearly dies and Silco has some feelings about the whole thing. Angst and yelling lay ahead.

Looking up to see Silco stepping back into the Last Drop with what she’d come to think of as “that look” on his face that these days always meant he’d just gone to see Irisa as she stayed still and quiet Sevika sighed softly. Of course she didn’t think it bad to visit the wounded, but Sevika found herself unconvinced Silco wasn’t using those trips as a way to punish himself just as much as to check on Irisa. Watching him go up the stairs to his office Sevika’s eyes returned to the card game she was involved in, and she’d finish it plus one more before excusing herself and heading up to see the chem-baron.

The two of them over the years had gradually gotten closer, and than after The Table with no one else around to help Silco recover as neither of them really trusted Singed with anything except the barest minimum they had became closer still. They both knew she could have left, and in truth Sevika almost had after Silco admitted he wanted to find Jinx and get her to come home. It had been an uncomfortable week or so after that as Sevika truly did not understand how he could still want to bring that blue-haired gremlin back, and she’d so very nearly walked away in the end though she hadn’t. She’d been there for him through thick and thin, and now she’d do it again. Stepping into his office her lips tightened realizing he was simply sitting at his desk with a half smoked cigar held between his fingers staring at nothing with almost no light in the room beyond that which came from outside.

“Sir?...Sir?...Silco!”

Hearing his name Silco finally looked at her blinking. “Sevika? What is it?” There was a soft sigh from Sevika, and locking the door behind her she moved forward before sitting in a chair in front of his desk. “Look, I get it. I know you, and I get why you're being all… morose, but Silco you need to talk about whatever is going through your head. So either start talking, or, fuck, I don’t know. I’ll drag you to a brothel to someone I know can keep their mouth shut. Bet I can even find a guy for you if that’s the flavor your in the mood for.” Staring at Sevika for a moment he let out one harsh chuckle before taking a drag off of his cigar, and leaning back.

“One of these days I’m going to fire you, and toss you out of the Last Drop.” He didn’t mean it of course. At this point he couldn’t imagine Sevika not being there, and she knew it just as well as he did. Reaching for a cigarillo she smirked. “You mean try to have me tossed out.” Lighting her own smoke she sighed. “Really though, Sir, talk to me.”

Closing his good eye Silco was quiet for a few seconds before he let out a slow sigh and sank back into his chair. “I’m tired Sevika. I’m tired, and frustrated in a way I haven’t let myself be in years if ever. You know as well as I how many we’ve lost, and now…” Jaw tightening his cheek pulsed as he shook his head. “Some fucking Piltie walks down into my Zaun, and almost kills what’s mine. Almost kills someone that although she may not have came from Zaun she has practically become of Zaun. After all the fighting, and the power I’ve taken, and everything we’ve ever done some fucking Piltie walks into MY ZAUN AND ALMOST KILLS SOMEONE WHO IS MINE.”

Hands slapping onto his desk Silco had risen to his feet, and at this point wasn’t so much yelling at Sevika as just yelling in general while his emotions swirled up. Nails digging into his desk Silco had to keep himself from just sweeping his hands over it knocking everything off of it. Sevika listened quietly, and nodded encouraging him to go on and go on he did. “We failed Sevika. We. Have. Failed. Even now I still cannot protect what’s mine. I can’t keep her, us, Zaun, safe from those fucking Pilties. The bloodshed has been for nothing. The Cause is dead in the fucking water because Zaun has, has turned into an enterprise for fucks sake. My daughter thinks I am dead, Zaun is cut off, a plague is sweeping our streets, my woman lays nearly dead, AND I CAN’T KEEP THE FUCKING PILTIES FROM HURTING US!” Silco hadn’t realized what he said in that moment, “my woman”, and Sevika wasn’t about to comment on it. Besides with the rage in his voice even she couldn't tell how deep his feelings went, and how much of it was just his possessive and sometimes oddly protective nature rearing it’s head high. Smoke escaped from her nose as she found herself unable to really disagree with him, and that was the worst part. Not that she had a chance to disagree as he kept going.

“It’s our fault, it��s my fault that some fucking Piltie could just walk down here. It’s our fault that we didn’t find him before this happened. How the FUCK DID WE NOT FIND HIM!? WE KNEW HIS VOID DAMNED NAME AND HIS DAUGHTERS NAME AND HIS BUSINESSES AND THE CITY HE LIVED IN AND HOW THE FUCK DID WE NOT FIND HIM BEFORE HE…” His voice cut off as Silco finally swept his hands over his desk knocking almost all of it onto the ground before turning to kick his chair across the room. Hands shaking he ran them through his hair. “It’s my fault. I failed to prioritize things correctly. This sickness, and everything else… and even now with this sickness there’s still people in Zaun trying to jostle for money and power, and I don’t have Jinx to deliver a message for me. I’m weakened, and spending money to try to keep this sickness at bay weakens me still further. I can feel the vultures circling waiting for me to fall so they can pick at the bones. There is going to be a wave of bloodshed sweeping over Zaun eventually Sevika. Everything is becoming less, and less stable and there is no unity in Cause anymore. It’s just a fucking enterprise, and all of this is my fault.” Voice turning into a shuddering resentful almost disgusted thing filled with self hatred blame Silco took a deep breath.

“When she wakes up. Send her to Ionia. She deserves something better than this pollution soaked, blood coated waste land. A falling angel can still clutch at pipes on the way down, and climb her way back up to where she should be if given the opportunity. Make sure she has the money she needs, and make sure she gets to the Airship and the Hexgate safely and get her to Ionia. After that…” Shaking his head Silco stepped forward grabbing his chair, and pulled it back sitting down in it before turning away from Sevika. “After that I’ll decide what is to come next. Both with Zaun, and Piltover. Maybe… maybe it’s time to remind Piltover of the monsters, and beasts sleeping beneath it…” Voice more contemplative than anything Sevika had obviously been dismissed. As much as they were closer than ever Silco was still Silco, and so she stood. “If that’s what you want, Sir. I’ll get it done.” Turning she headed for the door before pausing, and looking back at him. “You might want to consider asking Irisa what she wants before sending her away though. Everyone deserves a choice right? If she’s practically of Zaun, and Zaun deserves to be free than she should be as well… and also Silco you’re right. All of this is our fault.” With that she opened the door, and left. She had people to talk to, information to gather, and she was becoming increasingly worried that a conflict was coming be it inside of Zaun or directed towards Piltover and that required preparation.

One way or another change was coming, and in Zaun that meant bloodshed.

She wouldn’t fail Silco. Not again.

#astrxae #angst cw #silcodrabbles

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insult-2-injury · 2 years

Text

Take a Seat- Chapter 5

After a skirmish up top, your failing shop falls under the watchful gaze of the Eye of Zaun. And his blue-haired gremlin daughter.

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It was a few days after the explosion. The roof was already repaired, a Band-Aid slapped over a wound that you sensed was much deeper than the general public realized. This early in the evening, the bar was as empty as it ever got. You could get used to this, you thought, the lulling sounds of gossip and laughter in a steady flux, like a boat tossing side to side. It was chillingly easy to forget, at times, that the Last Drop was the heart of one man’s massive criminal empire. And that said man, the backbone of it all, lived quietly upstairs.

You were cross-legged on a barstool, chatting with the pink-haired bartender. Cecil was her name, and she’d been working there for a few months. Surprisingly, she quite liked the gig, never having found a reason to fear for her life other than the all-embracing threat of working under Silco, but she’d said she’d never had to deal with the intimidating man, nor did she see him except for rare occasions when he materialized on the balcony like a ghostly specter. But never did he set foot on the bar room floor during business hours.

You shared with the older woman that you’d be watching Jinx there on Friday nights now and as you spoke the words aloud for the first time, you realized how suspicious it sounded that you’d entered Silco’s office with a target on your head and come out fifteen minutes later with a job. She didn’t push the subject.

“So, Sevika, huh?”

“Oof. You noticed?”

You steadied yourself with two hands on the counter, where you’d been pivoting back and forth incessantly for the past ten minutes.

“You kidding? That tension was thick.” You placed a fist under your chin to look at her earnestly. “That was exceptional flirting, don’t get me wrong. You would’ve had me hook, line, sinker. Super unfortunate it ended in a death threat. Sevika is just…” You scanned the bar, paranoid. “Weird.”

“Well, I won’t be trying that again in a hurry.”

Cecil smiled lightly but you got the impression she was still generally unsure of you. You suppose you couldn’t really blame her, considering.

The woman walked over to serve a cheap beer to a glum-looking man who had just slumped down at the opposite end of the counter, and you admired the compassion in her eyes as she leaned over to murmur to him.

You hardly knew Cecil, yet there was an inherent trustworthiness about her, a rare kindness she possessed in its purest form. She appeared, on the surface, the direct antithesis of Sevika, so you’d been surprised, to say the least, at her romantic interest in the hostile woman. Yet, somehow, when you’d really considered the pairing, it had potential, like two neighboring magnets of opposite poles.

If you could just get them close enough.

In the distraction, you found yourself side-eyeing the shadowy upper levels of the bar, not fully understanding what you expected to find, what you wanted to find.

It wasn’t a Jinx day, but you’d found yourself antsy the past couple weeks, becoming more intolerant of spending all your time alone. It appeared, unsurprisingly, that the more you ventured out of your house for socialization, the more you felt starved for more, as if you had to atone for years lost. On the whole, it was probably a good thing that your machines were becoming less and less interesting to talk to, but it did mean it took more convincing to yourself in order to sit still and work at them for the long hours you did.

Cecil clapped the man on the back once and strode back over to you, propping herself up on her forearms as she leaned in.

“Seems everyone’s having troubles on the relationship front.”

You settled your cheek into your palm and looked at her crookedly, contemplating. “I think you should try again. Death threats don’t mean much, really. She threatened my life just seconds before yours, maybe it’s her love language.”

Cecil laughed, the sound rich, like a dark cup of Noxian coffee. You grinned back at her.

“So, you’re saying I should keep pushin’.”

You pursed your lips, reconsidering. As someone with a more recent habit of prancing around the limits of Death’s patience, maybe you weren’t the one to ask for advice about how far to push things. Your head jerked slightly as you again stopped its unconscious turn toward the crime lord’s lair, like a lamb, oddly intrigued by the idea of its own slaughter.

“No. Probably not.”

Cecil considered you, then tapped the bar with two curved fingers before straightening.

“You’re awfully confusing. But I like you.”

She snagged a honey-colored bottle of whiskey from the shelf, shaking it in silent question. You shook your head and made a gag face.

“Hate the stuff. Sorry.”

“Don’t drink?”

“Oh no, I do,” you blurted. “Just not looking for anything strong right now.”

“You sure? I can-“

“Nope, nope I’m good.”

Cecil gave you a strange look and then flipped the bottle expertly, placing it back before tossing a rag over her shoulder and turning back to you.

“So, what about you, darlin’? You got a partner down here?“

“Oh, no. Nothing even close. I’ve been kind of a hermit recently.” You cut your words short, feeling, unreasonably, as if you’d just given a deeply personal truth away.

Cecil looked at you deeply.

“Well, it makes sense now why you burst in here talkin’ a blue streak.”

You slapped your palms over your eyes and clawed your fingertips dramatically down your face. “I know. It’s like a disease.”

Cecil snorted.

“No problems here.” She grew serious suddenly, her voice lowering. “Hey. I wanted to say thanks for the gift. You didn’t have to do that, and I’m still not sure why you did. But I won’t be scraping the barrel for this month’s rent.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Cecil nodded. You propped yourself on your elbows as you leaned toward her, deadpan.

“No, I really mean that. Don’t mention it to anyone.”

__________

You were on time. Extremely on time.

Taking every possible obstacle into account (roadblocks, unexpected crowds, kidnapping, the subsequent, time-consuming escape), you’d left your house an hour early, your satchel still packed with the same candy and games as last time.

For the second week in a row, you weren’t greeted at the door by your notably impatient, blue-haired friend. Earliness aside, you couldn’t help but feel troubled. You wondered, in heart-pounding anxiety, whether you’d gotten something wrong, checking your watch several times.

Shoving your way through the swaying crowd to the lesser populated side of the bar where your booth was located, you were remiss to find that it was occupied by a man and woman. The latter was side eyeing the bathrooms as the former chatted away obliviously. By the looks of it, you were near certain it was a first date gone bad.

You did a lap around the bar, hoping they’d get up and leave of their own accord. Cecil’s presence put you slightly at ease and you felt exceedingly grateful that she worked this shift, even though it was too busy to chat with the incessant flow of thirsty customers. As your time approached, you leaned your elbows back against the bar counter, scanning the room for Jinx and her flying, sentient braids. Noticing your nervous glances, Cecil offered to make you a drink and you declined with a stiff shake of your head.

Craning your neck around to where you were meant to be sat in less than ten minutes, you cursed loudly, the words swallowed up by the hungry bass rattling the walls and floor beneath your feet.

Silco had said it had to be that one. The bastard stated that rule explicitly yet hadn’t reserved the booth in any discernible way, and now you were meant to fight for it. Irritation rose to a low simmer in the pit of your stomach as something told you he hadn’t just overlooked this possible outcome.

Grumbling, you rolled your shoulders back and approached the table, branding a placating, apologetic smile on your face.

“Hey guys.”

The woman looked up at you from where she’d been staring dully at the surface of the table, the life in her eyes seeming to flood back.

“So sorry to butt in here.” You shot her a knowing look. “Truly. But there’s been a mistake, this table is supposed to be reserved for me and my friend. I-“

The man interrupted you, waving his hand in the air as if you were a pesky fly.

“No, no, no.”

“…Pardon?”

“We just sat down. You and your friend can find another table.” You recoiled at the man’s unwarranted cockiness. He turned back to his date, who was starting to look as repulsed as you felt.

Attempting appeasement, you placed your palms lightly on the surface of the table.

“Listen, I understand the frustration. Really, I do-“

“You need to get out of our face. There’s a booth right there.”

So much for appeasing.

“Here’s the thing,” you snipped. “I need this one.”

The woman started to get up, gathering her things. The man gestured to her. “Sit back down, she has no right to-.”

“It’s reserved,” you interrupted, taking a page out of his book.

“I don’t give a shit what it is.”

The wood of the table clacked as you tapped your knuckles against it. A meanness began to corrode its way through your chest cavity and your lip curled nastily.

“I’m doing your date a service. She’s been eyeing the exit ever since you opened your mouth.”

The booth squawked as the man stood up. You stumbled backward a few steps. In a second, the man was in your space, finger pointing at you furiously, attempting to intimidate through bullying what he couldn’t with his stature. Your hand danced across the outside of your pockets instinctively, feeling the indent of the pocketknife within. In your periphery, his date threw her purse over her shoulder and rushed out, cursing softly.

“Relax,” you said, forcing yourself to stop in your nervous retreat as he crowded you so closely, your nose scrunched at the cloying smell of his hair gel.

“Just who the fuck do you think you are?”

The perks of your new reality struck you then, your arms dropping loosely to your sides as something powerful and undefined began to lap at the edges of your consciousness.

“I’m going to ask one more-“

“It’s reserved by my boss,” you said abruptly, heart pounding in anticipation as you lined yourself up for a home run.

“Oh yeah? And who’s that?”

You closed the space between you further, inches from his face, hardly believing your own gall.

“Big eye symbol hanging outside this place, you seen it?” Never had you seen anyone’s face drain of color so quickly. You drove the nail home. “That guy.”

You exhaled as he took a troubled step back, looking you up and down, fear and residual anger dueling on his features.

You grinned. “Sorry about the date, but she wasn’t going to fuck you anyway.”

He seethed, lips curling into a snarl before he turned to stomp away, before he could do anything stupid. Your eyes tracked his movement with a heady self-satisfaction.

You turned to claim your prize, and shrieked, hand leaping to your chest.

“How the hell did you manage to sneak by?”

Jinx concluded a wild round of applause from where she was perched on the table, legs dangling off the edge. The wide grin on her face was eerily pronounced under the flare of the purple and blue strobes.

“That was amazing.”

“Really?” You wiped your sweaty palms down the front of your pants. “I totally just used your dad to save my own ass.”

“Uh-uh, no way, you were cruel as a cucumber.”

The mis-phrase made you smile up at her, and you decided you never wanted to hear it spoken the correct way again. Coming to a stop in front of her, you wriggled your bag off your shoulder and plopped it onto her lap.

“I think I looked like a deflating circus balloon.”

“Only a little.”

Jinx rifled through the bag, eyes glimmering with a manic kind of joy.

“You bring the best stuff. No wonder my dad is keeping you around.”

Your brows knitted together in confusion, and a little bit of annoyance at the idea of him keeping you around. “Meaning?”

“Just surprised is all. He’s picky about people.”

There was no trace of mischief on Jinx’s face. If anything, she seemed completely oblivious to the impact of the casual, cryptic words. What they implied, you weren’t sure and knew, at least for now, that you didn’t want any clarification.

Not appreciating the direction your stream of consciousness was flowing, you dammed it back with silliness.

"Alright, let's go, you clown," you said, latching your fingers onto the wooden framing that arched over the booth and swinging your way in, landing in a gargoyle-like crouch. With zero hesitation, Jinx followed suit, laying backwards onto the table and rolling sideways until she toppled, her forehead smacking against the leather upholstery so loud that you both fell into a bout of keeling laughter. Her twig-like legs kicked wildly into the air from where she lay across the seat.

Catching your breath, you snagged a box off the counter and crossed your legs beneath you. “Ever play Candyland?”

She popped back up, her hair wild and staticky, strands reaching out in every direction but her head.

“Only with my dad.”

You snorted again, heart warming at the bizarre, yet sweet visual. You couldn’t help it: mothers doting on their children at the marketplace, fathers with toddlers high on their shoulders, cackling with glee. Ruthless crime lords playing a game of Candyland with their adoptive daughters between high-stakes criminal dealings. You’d never had anything of the sort, at least in your formative years, but had wanted it more than anything.

“Is he any good?”

“No.” She frowned. “But I think he lets me win.”

You hunched your shoulders and lunged toward her fiercely.

“Well, I won’t. I’m going to wipe the floor with you.”

Fireworks exploded in Jinx’s pupils, her lips curling into a cunning, feline smirk, eerily resemblant of her father’s.

“Bring it on, knife girl.”

You played Candyland for a bit, both of you cackling as the other lost a turn or were sent back to the start. You stood up at one point, bashing your fist down on the table, sending pieces flying, as the two of you got into a heated, but playful argument over the fact that you had once again lost, despite the game being entirely chance-based.

It was about an hour in when you’d made your first mistake.

“I’m sorry about last week.”

It was a simple apology. Clearing the air. Or so you’d thought.

Jinx’s shoulders stiffened imperceptibly. “No biggie.”

“Biggie.” You placed your palm gently on your bag, where Jinx was fishing at the bottom for candy like a cat rooting around the inside of a cardboard box. She peered up at you, eyes glazed over slightly. “I should’ve let you know I was going to be late.”

“I wasn’t mad.” Her voice had a hard edge to it.

You studied her agitated expression and immediately wished you hadn’t said anything. From her eyes alone, you could tell you were treading some delicate line, that just one more snap of an invisible rubber band had the potential to send her skyrocketing somewhere unreachable.

“It was an accident.”

You concluded, then and there, that Jinx did, in fact, have a propensity for exploding things and had used the Last Drop as her personal demolition zone last week. And based on Sevika’s reaction, you could assume that it hadn’t been the first time she’d flown off the handle. You thought back to what Silco had said. That you’d put her into a state of distress.

You lifted your palm from the bag as she stared at you with bladed eyes.

“I know it was.”

The rest of the night, Jinx was noticeably quieter, that same crackling, electric energy she possessed very much present, but manifesting differently. Her impossibly expressive eyes painted a portrait of the state of her mind, two live wires of different voltages, forced together repeatedly in a flurry of sparks. She would be poking her tongue out, giggling at your silly faces, and the next moment her eyes would be glassed over, glancing around uncertainly, as if trying to place where she was. Then, you’d have to reel her back in again.

Once, you’d asked her if she wanted to call it quits early, but she’d shaken her head, beaming at you eerily. “What, you a quitter?”

Later on, you spotted one of Silco’s crew lumbering toward you and you knew he’d come to fetch Jinx, that the night was coming to a close. Jinx noticed, too, a pout plumping her bottom lip.

She slid down in her seat, like she’d suddenly morphed into a blob of gelatinous goop.

“Next week, you bring something to do, huh? Since my games are too easy for you,” you said.

Two blue eyes popped over the edge of the table, shining at you dangerously.

“Anything?”

“I mean.” You were already biting back your words. “Within reason.”

What that meant to Jinx, you had no clue, but she hopped up out of her seat excitedly.

“I’ve got some ideas! See ya next time!”

Jinx waved at you emphatically and made to skip away, but paused abruptly, turning back around. Her searching gaze danced across your face for a moment before she lunged forward, nearly knocking you backward in an unexpected hug. You were as stiff as a sheet of plywood, the contact unfamiliar and strange, arms raised awkwardly in the air as you made startled eye contact with Silco’s crew.

There was a long moment where you didn’t respond. Didn’t know how, really. It wasn’t that you didn’t like hugs, you had just never quite gotten the hang of how to properly receive one. Relaxing slightly into the young girl’s hold, you delicately encased her.

You felt, more than heard, the quiet muffling into your shirt.

“Hm?”

“You’ll come back?”

You rested your chin on top of her head and glanced toward the balcony, wondering what Silco truly thought of the girl's immediate attachment to you. That same sense of protectiveness surged in your chest.

“I’ll see you next week, Jinx.” You emphasized with a squeeze, before releasing her into the swelling crowd of the bar.

The warmth of Jinx’s hug quickly dissipated from your skin and you found yourself sitting and staring at the spot the girl had occupied, unable to comprehend how a simple hug left you feeling more bereft, lonely. Time by yourself really had done a number.

You’d half expected the crew man to be carrying your payment, but all he’d done was shrug when you asked him what you were supposed to do. You considered not going upstairs at all, forfeiting your weekly stipend altogether, the idea of it suddenly seeming distasteful, wrong, after the vulnerability Jinx had just shown you.

You sighed, placing your head in your hands, losing yourself in thought.

____________

Back and forth. Back and forth. It was the slow, steady pacing of a predator.

You knocked.

The creaking of the floorboards paused.

“Come in.”

Your legs turned to jelly, toes curling into your boots to steady yourself outside of the tiger’s den before entering.

At his jarring nearness, your heart catapulted recklessly across your ribcage. He wasn’t close by any means. He was across the room in fact, yet he felt inches away, nothing between you and him this time. No desk. No balcony railing.

Silco’s slender frame stood at a diagonal, still slanted marginally away from the door, as if he’d frozen mid-step. The same crisp maroon shirt clung to his form, a brown, exquisitely detailed waistcoat hugging his torso down to the tops of his narrow, streamlined hips, where his left hand was perched loosely.

On the couch, an intimidating overcoat of the same two colors, emblazoned in gold detailing, lay neatly, as if he’d returned just recently from an outing. There was nothing about the man that wasn’t expensive, that didn’t feel masterfully crafted.

Silco hadn’t acknowledged you yet, his head turned just a fraction, side profile cutting severely through the gentle, bathing glow of the Undercity behind. You admired the way his aquiline nose jutted out, giving him a haughty, yet undeniable charm.

It was as if he had been erected right there in the middle of the room, an unmoving, ethereal statue. He required no words to intimidate, the force of his presence was enough to claim ownership of any room in which he merely stood.

Silco’s unseen arm lifted as he quietly took a sip of the drink you hadn’t realized he was holding. You felt an urgent, all-encompassing need to break the silence as you watched his lips capture the glass, throat bobbing.

“Hello.”

Only his orange, burning eye was visible as it darted over to seize your inquiring gaze. Your skin prickled as it trailed down your figure lazily, sizing you up as a spider would, deliberating on the contents of its web. His eye rolled back up to meet yours. The scarred corner of his lip quirked slightly.

“Hello.”

You toyed briefly with the idea of performing a dramatic pivot and marching back out his door and down the countless number of stairs you’d just climbed. But instead, you shut yourself in, noticing for the first time, the thick, golden deadbolt locks that adorned each double door, at the very top and bottom. Safeguards to keep people out. Or in.

Silco sighed, almost bored, eyes dropping to his drink that he swirled lazily in his hand. “I suppose you’ve come for your pay.”

He placed the half empty glass down before finally moving, prowling the front edge of his desk, dragging the tips of his fingers absentmindedly as he went, as if picking up dust. He pinched his fingers, holding them up to the light dispassionately as he rounded the side of his desk.

Something dangerously on the brink of disappointment poked at you sharply. The money, the moment it hit your hand, would officially end the night.

“You might get an anonymous complaint,” you said.

Silco stilled, seafoam green singling you out this time.

“Oh?”

“I had to break up a really uncomfortable first date. To get that booth.”

Slowly, he turned, leaning his hip into the desk and hinging one ankle across the other, his half-lidded eye glazed with indifference.

“And you wish for what, a congratulations?”

“No, no.” You adjusted your tight grip on the bag you were holding. “Just wanted to cover my ass in case there were any wild accusations.”

“Such as?”

“Like that I weaponized your name. Or something.”

His orange eye flashed.

“A hypothetical, I take it.”

“Most definitely.”

Beneath dark brows, Silco observed you steadily. You swallowed dryly, his burning scrutiny tracing the quick movement.

Ages passed before he reacted. From where his palm rested on the desk, his index finger tapped once in affirmation of something before he pushed himself to his full height, stalking over to a well-stocked drink cart, where he grabbed another tumbler.

“That bad?”

You grinned, despite his back being turned.

“The woman was about ready to lobotomize herself with her own straw.”

The clink of glass on glass in the quiet room was startling as he poured from a dark-colored decanter. You wished you could see his face.

“I suppose I should thank you for saving me the mess.”

“No need.”

In the silence that followed, you took the opportunity to glance about the room. Under the blinding tunnel vision of your nervousness, you’d never actually absorbed any of your surroundings. It wasn’t a revelation that the man had a theme, crimson and gold, but the office, through a fresh lens, was surprisingly colorful. A blue, diamond-patterned rug beneath the gold talons of his desk. A soft, rose-shaded leather couch with a large painting above it, depicting a tumbling boat crashing across treacherous waters. A beautiful gramophone sitting on the dark wood of a side table next to his desk.

It was a collector’s den, with a variety of antiques that spoke of his taste for collecting the finer things and putting them on display. You smiled softly at the mug Jinx had painted, sitting proudly at the very front and center of his desk.

The sound of a decanter being corked brought your attention back to Silco, who, to your utmost surprise, was turning with two drinks in his hand.

“Must you linger in every doorway? Or just mine?”

You blinked at him owlishly.

“Just yours, honestly.”

Your eyes fell questioningly to the second glass in his hands.

“Is that…”

“No. I was so thirsty I fashioned myself two whiskeys,” he said impatiently. “Take it.”

It didn’t appear as if he had any intent to harm you, but it was always prudent to keep your wits about you when in the presence of a wild animal. And that’s what he reminded you of, a beast you must always approach with caution, lest its jaws surprise you by clamping down.

Your nose twitched irritably, and an arrogant curl of his lips told you he could sense your restraint. Where he drew his lines, you had no idea. Best to take these things one step at a time, much like your current, literal approach toward Silco’s outstretched arm.

You tilted your head up in false bravado but couldn’t help the way your knees quaked as they jerked you forward across the room and toward the looming man.

You tilted forward to pluck the drink from his hand, the side of your index finger grazing against his in your haste. With a small shock, your hand jerked backward, liquid sloshing lightly, a droplet landing on your exposed wrist bone. You took a step back, stomach pitching at the way he carefully scrutinized you down his nose.

”Thank you,” you muttered.

”You’re welcome.”

You couldn’t help but avert your eyes, his voice closer than ever.

Silco made his way to his seat, a whisper of amusement on his face, and so did you, feeling thoroughly humiliated by your uncharacteristic submissiveness.

Silco settled into the pompous highback, swirling his drink in his palm. “Any other hypotheticals I should be made aware of?”

You dropped your bag onto the ground at your feet, reeling at the fact that he was indulging you in conversation. “I told him you’re my boss.”

“Is that so untruthful?”

“I don’t know. It seems kind of…” you looked at him, conflicted. “Ingenuine.”

Silco’s eyes fell in silent scorn to the way your nails clanked restlessly against the glass in your hand. “Elaborate.”

“The title. It implies that I’m working for you… Which I guess I am. Or that I’m doing this for money... Which, I guess I am.” You slapped your palm noisily against your forehead at how stupid you sounded. It was exceedingly difficult to form an intelligent sentence while his eyes burned into yours, so you found yourself glaring, exasperated, at the silk, white tie cinched perfectly against his throat. “I just can’t help but feel lousy accepting money to hang out with Jinx. Because if I had the money to spare, I’d do it for free. It feels like I’m being… dishonest or something.”

Silco’s head cocked as he scrutinized your words, a peculiar emotion knitting his brows together before his features smoothed into an icy indifference.

“Were you hoping I’d soothe your conscience?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling no different than any of his antiques, your restraint on full display for the impudent man.

“If I needed my conscience soothed, I’d go to Babette’s.”

"Ah yes, if you're seeking honesty, go to Babette's." You were taken aback by the acid in his tone, his eyes flashing wrathfully.

“Detestable Yordle,” he growled low. Your fingers tightened on your glass. “Impossible to dispose of.”

It was abundantly clear there was bad blood there, but you barely contained a snort at the visual of the tiny, wise-cracking woman getting under Silco’s skin. He was at a loss, though. Babette’s would go belly-up without, well, Babette.

“I hear she loves fresh peaches if you're ever looking to make nice."

The look he gave you could freeze hell over twice. "Make nice."

"Bad choice of words."

He sighed, tilting back into his chair, leaning one elbow on an armrest while he studied you heatedly over the rim of his swirling glass.

You readjusted the nervous grip you had on your own drink, finding yourself at an unusual loss for words.

“So.” The lull in conversation made it suddenly necessary to fill the silence. You gestured with your head over to his coat laying on the couch, “Do anything interesting today?”

Right away, you blanched, realizing how suspicious you sounded.

Silco's good eyebrow cocked slightly.

“Don’t answer that. I regret the question.”

With deliberate leisure, he polished off his drink, setting it on the desk with a soft thud that echoed like a gunshot in the quiet room. The chair creaked as he crossed his legs.

“Is that why you're here, then?” he asked softly.

The room dropped several degrees.

“To share a drink? Infiltrate my good will?" A corner of his lips lifted into a lethal smirk, chin dipping. "Clever. Perhaps I should've been keeping a closer eye on you."

Your narrowing gaze darted between orange and green. He couldn't possibly think...

”Hm?" His head tilted, prompting.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“You should be. Sorry.”

The seconds drew out like taffy and you felt the first bead of perspiration on your forehead as you sat with a growing nervousness. He stared at you, calculated, like a cat would, curiously batting a mouse between its paws.

"I haven't done anything," you whispered indignantly to him, leaning in, as if the real accuser was pointing at you from across the room.

"I know." Silco sniffed dispassionately. “You’d make a terrible spy.”

There was a long silence before your shoulders dropped. You weren’t foolish enough to say it out loud, but you made sure he saw the sentiment clearly in your eyes.

Asshole.

Silco’s soft chuckle reminded you of the first roll of thunder before a storm.

There was a lull of silence while you clenched your cup tightly with both hands on the desk, ears burning with annoyance at having to hold your tongue. A mysterious heat was bleeding out of you, concurrent with your adrenaline. Instead of using words, you held his gaze, nails clanking out a purposefully loud, frenzied tune on the outside of the gold-rimmed glass.

Silco frowned, and then looked in disapproval at your untouched drink. You practically huffed, raising it to your lips. You thought you were prepared, but the liquid rolled down your throat like a freight train and you just barely managed to swallow a single sip, grimacing like you'd just taken a shot of lemon juice.

"Holy-" you began, coughing. "That's really strong."

Silco hummed, eyes glittering.

"I think I'd manage alright," you dared to finish, drawing his attention away from your display. You cleared your throat of the burn, voice hoarse. "As a spy."

"You read like a picture book."

There was a long pause.

"Interesting, at least? Good plot?"

"No.”

It was your turn to frown.

It wasn't long after that when you felt your banter easing to what felt like a natural close for the night. You thanked him for the drink and excused yourself, not wanting to overstay. The man had a city to run after all. But as you turned, he called your name softly.

A money pouch dangled between his fingertips and he noticed the way your lips twisted with no small amount of guilt. Silco tilted his head sharply toward the couch.

“I was overseeing the disposal of an old friend.” His gaze honed on your hands fiddling at your sides and then rose again. "River."

His unwavering, expectant stare heated you like a coal forge, growing uncomfortably warm the longer you stood inside it. As you studied him in kind, you wondered whether he felt the same ineffable pull. Or if this was just a part of his magnetic craft.

His words were strangely affirming and you drifted back, allowing him to drop the pouch into your open palm. You stood staring at it for a long moment, before raising your eyes to his, allowing your lips to slowly curl into a sly smile.

“How mundane.”

You received a vicious smirk.

“And tedious.”

_________________

When you were younger, the older kids at the orphanage had allowed you to tag along on their criminal escapade to the Piltovan Zoo after hours. Ecstatic to be included, but quietly nervous, you’d clung onto your brother’s arm as you’d stood before the enchanting, golden arches of the admissions gates, your friends dancing in the fountain out front, water raining down from a marble elephant’s trunk.

You'd felt invincible, evading the night guards and climbing your way over high walls so as not to set off alarms. Safely inside, you’d followed Stefan to the koi pond, where you'd sat, watching the fish flail their plump bodies across the water for bits of bread.

At a low growl, your head had turned to the shadows.

You’d peered around, finding the older kids still laughing with the howling chimpanzees and their babies, who poked tiny fingers through the cages. Stefan remained hunched over the pond.

The darkness called to you like a siren. Quietly, so as not to alert your brother, you’d ventured alone toward the shadowy enclosures in the back, your friend’s laughter growing dim as you’d tip-toed toward the source of the snarling fury.

A light flickered feebly over the head of a lone female tiger, pacing back and forth. Back and forth. Scattered around her were bits of newspaper, a silicone ball, ripped and toothed way past its expiration date. A pull-rope, intended for stimulation, was hung untouched along the concrete wall. But still she’d paced, shoulders rolling hypnotically, hunched low.

Climbing over the first glass partition, you had sat cross-legged in front of the metal cage, a sense of familiarity drawing you into her delicate solitude.

“Hello,” you’d said, fingers lacing through the bars, head pressed hard against the cold metal.

The tiger had paused in her distressed musings to pin you with her gleaming, yellow-eyed stare. Licking her chops, she had hung her head, and you’d watched, enamored, as she had approached, coming to a halt before you.

In a moment too swift for the human eye, she had lunged, her snout jamming against the bars in a clash of teeth and metal. You’d never thought to scream, just gasp as the creatures nose huffed inches away from yours.

Scooting backward in heart-pounding anxiety, you’d studied her from the floor as she did from above, paws framing where your head had been, her claws oddly retracted.

And then she’d resumed her pacing, as if it were her born duty.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Throned at the top of the food chain, utterly alone. Unchallenged. Bored to madness by a brain too intelligent, too hungry.

You think you understand now.

<3 <3 <3

I'm still pretty new to tumblr so if you enjoyed and/or feel inclined to help me get my writing out into the ether, I'd be ever so grateful. But if not, I am still just very happy to be here existing in such an amazing fandom.

Here's the AO3 link if you want to kudos or comment or check out my other works! Your feedback means the world! Thank you!

Stay unhinged, my friends

Love, Sulty <3

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#silco #silco arcane #silco fanfic #silco x reader #silco x you #reader insert #arcane #take a seat

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bluboothalassophile · 6 years

Note

Can we get some platonic Raven and Tim moments? I feel like we hear more about thier friendship more than we see it and I think there is something awesome to be said about strong friendships.

Hello,

Okay, there was a few things N52 did that gave me life and delight, the Tim Rae friendship was of the few things that was done right. And while I always imply their friendship, I had fun writing it! So I hope you enjoy the story! =)

Hot Cocoa and Traditions…

“You know, we could do what normal friends do and actually beseated at the café with our cocoa?” Raven sat there in her blue and silver scarffluttered around, and Tim grinned.

“Cause paparazzi can’t get us up here,” Tim grinned.

“Mm,” she hummed. “We need to rethink this.”

“We got a killer view!” Tim gestured to Gotham.

“We’re getting slush and frostbite,” Raven countered astheir legs dangled over the edge of Wayne Tower. “But this beats what I would bedoing,” Raven admitted.

“Which is?”

“Attempting to study.”

“Attempting?”

“There’s an ogler there, and Cass and Stephanie glare athim, their emotions are loud, as are his, it’s very annoying and distracting,”Raven dismissed.

“Oh!? You got a secret admirer?”

“I get a massive headache. And that’s another thing I don’tunderstand; he could very well be staring at Stephanie or Cass? It’s not likewe know who he’s staring at longingly.”

“It’s you Rae,” he decided. Raven was pretty, she wasstunning, striking and unique, not exactly breathtakingly stunning, or modelgorgeous, but she had that striking face.

“No it’s not,” she smiled as she hugged the bar, he did too.“It’s probably Cass, or Stephanie, they’re gorgeous. I’m the hang on, and it’sall because of my association with your family.”

“You don’t honestly think that you’re a hang on?” Tim asked.Raven shrugged as they both sat there hugging the bar.

Tim remembered when he had met Raven.

She was a in her bitch phase to be with Garfield Logan. Hehad initially disliked her, at least until Raven had genuinely welcomed him tothe Titans. She had embraced him for himself, and she had endured his conspiracyrambles, chess lessons, and the awkwardness of him not being able to connect toanother person. The demoness had allowed him to connect to her, and she hadsnapped and snarled at Gar whenever Gar’s beast had reacted poorly to Raven’sfriendships with others. Raven wasn’t always this quiet person, when sheallowed people in her life it was revealed that she was vibrant, confident,kind, empathetic, and over all she was gentle as she was fierce.

“I’m just… the creepy, gloomy girl,” Raven shrugged.

“You’re not creepy or gloomy unless you’re a Bat and I don’tknow about it,” Tim grinned.

“If I’m a Bat then we’re going to have a long chat about thehomicidal demon that is attached to the family and attempting to set me up,” shesighed.

“You do know he sucks at that,” Tim chuckled.

“It’s getting so annoying,” Raven groaned.

Tim sniggered. “How is Jay?”

“He’s Jason,” she shrugged.

“You know, when I was Robin, he was the person I talked tothe most, him, you and Dick,” he admitted. “Course I didn’t know he was alive.”

“Jason still sucks at accepting he’s alive, just the otherday he was trying to ignore Lian and she walked into him and he just said ‘Damnit!’.”

“He should bring Lian around more,” Tim mused.

“You’ll have to take that up with Roy,” Raven chuckled.

“Rae, thanks for this,” Tim smiled.

“You still owe me a night on the town, not on the Gothamrooftops,” she warned.

“Okay, when we can actually do that when I can drink,legally, then we’ll hit up the town!” he laughed.

“I’m not carting around you as a drunk, your brother is aboneless drunk and I don’t want to find out what sort of trouble, a drunk nerd Batcan scrounge up.”

“Are you implying that I would be trouble if drunk?”

“Yes! All you Bats are trouble. It’s got to be genetic!”

“You do realize that none of us are related by blood?”

“I’m not sure about that, black hair, blue eyes, trouble,trouble, more trouble,” Raven mused.

“Careful Rae, you might be one of us sooner rather thanlater,” Tim teased.

“Don’t you dare threaten that!” she gasped. “You might killmy moms with that statement!”

Tim laughed and took a sip of the hot cocoa as he stared atthe city. He liked hanging out with Rae, he remembered why, it was easy.

“Do you ever… you know, think about the possibility?” Tim askedseriously.

“What?”

“About it… you know, Jason and you?” Tim asked.

“Should I?” Raven asked carefully. Tim stared out at thecity and sipped his cocoa as they sat in silence.

“You two are… solid,” Tim said. “Annoyingly so. You make himhappy.”

“I think that it’s a bad idea Tim,” Raven said.

“Why?” he whined.

“Because it would only end in disaster. He needs a friend,not a lover, to push something that simply isn’t there or if it is there, whyburn it out to appease Damian, or you, or your family? It’s not fair to us orthe people around. And also, why does Damian’s want precede what Jason or Iwant. As the only two people who would be involved shouldn’t we get a say?”

“I just… Garfield was not the only man for you,” Tim said.He remembered the times when Raven had cried over her dying relationship withGar.

“It’s not about Gar,” Raven dismissed then.

“Then what’s it about?”

“Garfield does not define my romance in life. But it is mylife and the romances to be had in it will be mine and not the ones otherpeople want for me,” Raven said.

“Raven, you’re better than all of us,” Tim decided.

“Not really, I’m just better than myself,” Raven mused. “It’sall I can do,” she admitted.

“I think that’s all any of us can do,” Tim admitted. “Though,just so you know, I want you and Jay together.” he smiled.

“That’s cruel and unusual punishment, and if you join thegremlin in his attempts to set us up I will send you to Hell after I sic Jason onyou!” she warned.

“Naturally,” he laughed. “But I’m not teaming up with Damian.”

“Don’t jinx yourself, I think you two will be best friendsin the future.”

“And I’ll end up CEO of Wayne Enterprises,” Tim snorted.

“Careful what you wish for Tim,” she mused.

“I think I wished for the best things,” he admitted as thefireworks were lit off. Raven smiled and he grinned as his own blue and silver woolscarf tugged at the wind. “Happy New Year Rae.”

“Happy New Year Tim,” she cheered. “Until next year,” shetipped her cup a bit before taking another sip of it.

“You know, I like this tradition, but next year we’re goingback to New York,” he decided.

“Why?” she asked. He pointed at the docks explosions.

“Damn it Jason!” Raven cursed as they both watched.

#bluboothalassophile #one shot #fanfic #hopes for a bastard #hopes for a bastard universe #timothy drake #tim drake #raven

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insult-2-injury · 2 years

Text

Take a Seat- Chapter 4

After a skirmish up top, your failing shop falls under the watchful gaze of the Eye of Zaun. And his blue-haired gremlin daughter.

AO3 Link

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You’d walked briskly home from the bar that night, shivering as the cold air whispered against your wet clothes. A flaming eye lit a fire in your step. Something about your little balcony interaction with Silco had ignited a spark of creativity and you’d hardly made it in the door before beelining toward your workbench. You tried to ignore the way your shirt clung sticky to your front as you snatched up a sheet of graph paper. It felt urgent, to get your imaginings vomited onto the page before they were snuffed out by a night’s sleep.

You sketched the handle first, fingers dancing toward your empty soup tin of colored pencils. Smooth obsidian, you thought- orange, river-like channels flowing thinly from the hand guard downward, molten lava carving its path across an unblemished landscape. When it reached the pommel, the lines molded fluidly into the same Eye insignia that hung outside the Last Drop.

The blade. You started to draw two identical lines to form into the point of a double-sided dagger. But paused. No. There was nothing symmetrical about the man in question. You erased one side, instead curving the blade into a swooped point. Switching sides, you drew a saw-toothed edge beginning halfway down the spine. There. Perfectly mismatched.

Finally, you sat back, running your lead-covered fingers over the sketch, hovering over the Eye. This design would never come to fruition, of course, nor would this page ever see the light of day, but it quieted your mind to know that the haunting insignia was branded, for the time being, somewhere other than behind your closed lids. You scrunched the paper into a ball and tossed it in the direction of your bin.

You thought about earlier. You’d felt so inevitably small under Silco’s towering presence. The cold wasn’t responsible this time for the shiver that tiptoed down the curve of your spine as you recalled the way that he’d viciously harnessed the shadows from above you. And the damnation you’d seen in the press of his hands and the blaze of his eye when you’d raised your glass.

When your head hit the pillow that night, you made a promise to yourself. To tread lightly. To stop taking your life into your own hands.

_________

Thus, exactly a week later, you were journeying back to the Eye of Zaun’s lair to meet up again with his brilliant, unhinged daughter.

You were late, by almost forty-five minutes, having been bogged down with work. The electricity had gone out again and had set you back. You felt slightly guilty, but you were banking on Jinx’s understanding, or at least being able to make her laugh hard enough to forget.

It was more relaxed today, a softer vibe, which wasn’t saying much, as you stepped inside and felt the welcoming embrace of The Last Drop’s mellow synth as it threaded its way through the room like a heart pumping blood to its extremities. You did a lap around the place, looking for your blue-haired friend but came up empty, instead spotting another familiar face propped stiffly against the bar, standing watch.

Sevika’s face darkened when she saw you. She tossed back her drink, slamming it down on the counter.

In a few seconds, she was casting a tall shadow over you. Derision twisted her features, as if you’d just bent over and hurled all over her boots.

“Everything alright?”

“Don’t play dumb. What are you playing at, getting buddy-buddy with Silco’s daughter?” The words sounded acidic, as if she weren’t used to the way they formed in her mouth.

You scanned the room, remembering Jinx’s propensity for eavesdropping.

“She’s upstairs.”

“Hm.” You nodded. “You ever heard of the crime of coercion?”

Her scowl deepened.

“The girl jumped me on the way out of Silco’s office last week,” you explained hurriedly, “And I was not about to disappoint the Eye of Zaun’s daughter.”

Disapproval shone in her steel gray eyes as they dropped to your bag of goodies, which you tucked further under your arm, feeling suddenly defensive as you spoke again.

“You ever been strong-armed for a playdate?" You cast her a sly smile. "I bet you have, you have kind eyes.”

Her gaze was positively searing.

“You must want to see your sword in action." Soundlessly, the blade extended from her metal arm. You didn't dare move a muscle, averting your gaze to the open expanse of air just above your shoulder, where her sword hovered, ready to cut. After a beat, she slowly retracted it back in. "You were outsmarted by a child.”

You sucked in a breath. “I was trying not to get killed-“

“If that had been your aim, then you’d have gotten the hell outta dodge.”

She turned swiftly. “Girl’s a menace.” Sevika muttered as you struggled to keep up with her long-legged stride. “Blowing shit to hell left and right.”

The muscled bartender from last week was gone, you noticed, and had been replaced by a beautiful, curvy woman with pink, cropped hair. Probably a shift change, you attempted to reason with yourself. Something uneasy slithered through your belly, mixing with Sevika’s cautionary words to create a nauseating, bubbling brew.

“What do you mean? Did something happen?”

Her lips thinned in response.

The tall woman propelled forward suddenly, a near snarl pulling at the corners of her lips. With unwarranted aggression, she banged her gloved fist twice on the bar counter. A saltshaker tipped over on its side.

The swiftness of it had your heart skipping a beat, but the bartender didn’t flinch. She just cocked one eyebrow and turned, a soft smile playing at the creases of her mouth as she found two shot glasses, throwing Sevika a pointed smirk as she placed them both on the counter, filling each.

“I think I’m beginning to understand your language.”

Like a porcupine preparing to shoot its quills, Sevika's shoulders rose at the obvious flirtation. Meanwhile, you focused intently on the saltshaker rolling its way across the counter in front of you. There was a worryingly long pause.

“Good. Maybe you’ll last longer than the last guy.”

She slid a shot to you that you barely managed to catch because your gaze had flitted to meet the bartenders as the both of you came to the same conclusion. With her cybernetic hand, Sevika tossed her shot back fluidly, the blade within flashing as it caught the light.

A look of disappointment crossed the pink-haired woman's face, before she swallowed dryly and turned to make herself look busy, wiping out pint glasses. You couldn't help but admire her bravery.

Nor could Sevika it seemed, her gaze lingering. Interesting.

“Knock that back,” she pointed, and you did as you were told, grimacing at the bitter taste. “You’re gonna need it.”

“What now?”

Sevika pushed away from the bar.

Heads turned and conversations lulled as a door slam of seismic proportions echoed from the upper, shadowy chambers of the club.

“That’s a cue if I ever heard one.”

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t keep him waiting. And don’t act surprised.” She affixed her scarf over her arm. “Never clocked you for a fool.”

And then she left, drifting wraithlike across the bar and out onto the streets, leaving you feeling decidedly very foolish. And alone. Your insides twisted in on themselves, something terrifying and darkly anticipatory twirling hand-in-hand in a peculiar dance.

Another shot was placed silently before you.

________

You softly trod down the dark corridor and toward the menacing door down the way. It was cracked open and you surmised it was something to do with the ear-splitting door slam you’d heard earlier.

The doorknob had been replaced, you noticed in mild amusement, from when Teddy had manhandled it off. Curious, you tiptoed over to the potted fern and were thrilled to see that the instrument was still there, gleaming through the dark soil you’d frantically covered it with last week.

Once more, you approached the open door, seeing the familiar sight of Silco's soft, rose-colored couch and the brass gramophone sitting on the end table beside.

You raised your fist to knock, squeezing your eyes shut as you gathered your courage.

“How long will you be lurking outside my doorway?”

The timbre of his voice was smooth as sin yet held several notes of impatience.

“Ah, yup. Coming in.”

Silco’s gaze ensnared you the moment you slid inside.

The dark wood was cold against your back as you pressed into the door, centering yourself, the pumping bass from below vibrating through your shoulder blades.

Silco was rigid, perched forward in his chair, legs spread and elbows resting on his knees. A lock of dark hair had tumbled out of his slicked back style and onto his forehead, as if he’d been running his fingers through it before you walked in. The motion was oddly human on the strict, unyielding man, and you may have found a sense of comfort in it if he wasn’t staring at you like that.

“Impeccable timing.”

The hairs on your arm stood at attention at the way his light, airy tone contrasted his frigid demeanor.

“I was just about to send for your head.”

There went whatever semblance of balance you’d managed to scavenge thus far. The swell of blood through your ears muffled the sharp exhale that you unleashed.

You could launch into defense. About how Jinx had practically stormed you right out the gate. You wanted to argue that you’d had no choice in the matter. But you’d be lying. You could’ve cut it off that first night. You could have intentionally bored Jinx to death. But you hadn’t. Sevika was right. If you were thinking straight, you’d be running for the hills.

Your knuckles cracked with how hard they clenched around the handle of your small satchel, as if holding on for dear life.

“I can stop coming here. If that’s what you want.”

He sloped forward.

“Sit down.”

The command wasn’t wearing the overcoat of an invitation this time. It wasn’t gentle. Nor was it cruel. It was a dark breeze carrying with it the unmistakable threat that his impenetrable features refused to display.

Liquid courage nudged you to release your hold on the security of the door to stand up straight. You felt a sudden swell of gratitude to Sevika, something you knew she would despise with a fiery passion. You thanked her silently for the little boost of courage as you walked toward the Eye of Zaun’s desk.

You seated yourself primly in the same chair as before, thighs pressed together and hands resting on either side of them, tapping a nervous pattern into the leather with your fingers. Your thoughts drifted to your banter the last time you’d graced this office and you imagined Teddy clambering into the room with a rag and disinfectant bottle to clean your guts off the chair after this.

His face was impassive, body still, eyes trailing you keenly like a lion hidden in wait, watching as the antelope wandered unwittingly close.

“You’re late."

It took you a few seconds to catch on.

“You mean, tonight?”

His brows knit in irritation, the only thing that betrayed any sort of emotion. “Yes, I mean tonight, girl.”

“I-“ You blinked, stuttering. “Am. I am."

"Why is that?"

"My power went out," you said honestly.

His lips thinned as he waited for more. Your words rushed out. "And I had work I needed to finish.”

“Oh, pity. Were you able?”

"Well, not-"

“I don’t care. Jinx was expecting you.”

You snapped it shut.

“She put her trust in you.”

Not wanting to interrupt again lest your life be cut unceremoniously short, you waited for him to finish.

“And you put her in distress.”

Your eyes darted across his withering gaze. “Is she alright?”

Silco’s mouth crooked down, his next words steel, almost daring you to push the subject.

“Jinx is fine.”

"Good."

It felt like a full, excruciating minute passed as Silco inspected you like a spider examines its prey. Your heart stuttered as something dastardly flitted across his features, just perceivable enough to assure you he wasn't finished with you yet.

His green eye fell into a half-lidded indifference as he brought both hands to fist under his chin in consideration.

“Now. What to do with you?”

The conversation had taken a bit of a horseshoe. You’d thought, by and large, that you were sitting here to be reprimanded for… well... being here at all. But now, you were quickly adjusting to the notion that no, your presence was demanded. And evidently, so was your timeliness.

You felt guilty for keeping Jinx waiting, but this wasn’t a second job. You weren’t a babysitter. This was your freely given time.

Ire began to rise sharply inside you. But wasn’t it you who had walked face-first into this spiderweb in the first place?

His question sounded rhetorical, yet he demanded an answer, his expression anticipatory, eyes sharply soaking you in, flitting to each of your reddening ears and down to where your fingers tapped furiously beside you.

You cleared the dry lump in your throat.

"I don't know, sir." Silco's lidded eye twitched subtly at the title, the motion uncharacteristically pronounced on his otherwise unmoving figure. "I imagine you have a wide range of possible alternatives."

"And so many unexplored."

The leather of your chair creaked as your fingers dug in. You knew your desire to push back at him was born out of nothing but insanity, but if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was enjoying this, batting you around like a cat with a brand new, shiny toy. A riled-up little shred of defiance within had you taking in a slow cleansing breath.

"Any that don't result in me washing onto the banks of the Pilt?"

Silco hummed disapprovingly.

"Plenty." He eased himself back into the wingback chair. One hand gripped onto his armrest and the other rose to prop under his chin, an impossibly long forefinger idly curling under his nose as he considered you. "River disposals have proven disappointingly mundane as of late."

You nodded, pursing your lips slightly.

"Tedious, too, I imagine."

His tongue pushed against his teeth in thought. "Quite."

Silco's sharp-edged gaze danced across the tattered bag on your shoulder for a few unbearably quiet moments before his fascinating eyes captured your own again, pinning you to your chair.

"What of Jinx?"

The question was multidimensional, inquiring several things at once. Your heart picked up at the weight of them all.

“Jinx is…” You squinted, searching for the right word. “Formidable. I’ve picked up that much. She’s suspiciously good at luck-based card games. Whip smart, too. I've never been successfully threatened into a playdate before, so that's pretty... interesting. Flattering, too, really. I hardly know her, of course, but she's good company."

His expression didn't change, but the lethal intensity that had been stifling the room since you walked in seemed to soften slightly.

“I hope she's not too upset with me. I didn’t intend to be late tonight, I’ve just, well honestly, I've been struggling to keep up with the influx of work lately.”

One seafoam green eye narrowed, and you panicked, holding up one index finger.

“Which is a problem I’m grateful for.”

It was either the soft light of his desk lamp catching his features just right, or the faintest flicker of genuine amusement as you continued through your slightly jumbled explanation.

“Last week was the first time in years that I’ve allowed myself that kind of free time. And it was nice. But even that set me back." You lowered your eyes, feeling a spike of shame at the excuses flying out of your mouth. You had blabbed for far too long. “I should’ve warned her.”

“Yes. You should have.”

You were met with a silence that you felt an acute need to fill.

“Again, I can leave. If you want,” you offered again, raising your inquisitive gaze.

You suddenly found yourself struggling way too hard to keep your eyes on his as he assessed you, to not be drawn in by the oddly alluring fluttering of his fingers across the end of his armrest.

“Unless this conversation is heading toward a different conclusion," you said.

His eyebrow cocked subtly and your heart slammed once into the front of your ribcage.

“Chair execution,” you blurted out a little too quickly, immediately wanting to slap yourself for directing his attention back to the popular topic of your demise.

“Intriguing.” An orange eye bore into you. “Shall I go grab Sevika?”

A dark delight hummed unexpectedly in your chest at his continuance of your previous banter, and you couldn’t help but bite at the bait he laid out.

“I appreciate the hospitality, but I'd rather not stain another shirt red.”

You shot him a self-deprecating grin.

A low, dangerous chuckle glided across the skin of your arms like a gentle whisper, standing each hair at attention. Something curious, perhaps even puzzled, kindled in his eyes as your own widened slightly at the sound.

“Ah yes. No encores.” The index finger resting above his lip moved to lightly prop against the side of his head.

You swallowed down the dryness in your throat. These strange transitions from hostile to something bordering on playfulness were exceptionally unnerving and you felt the urge to grab the paddles and steer the two of you back toward the somehow safer-feeling waters of five minutes ago.

“Exactly," was all you could think to say.

“Yet there you are."

The words were a trigger release. Your gaze leapt to the entrancing motion of his fingers. It was a quick movement, but Silco's hawklike gaze latched onto it, his head tilting downward to where yours had been briefly focused.

His fingers stilled and your jaw clenched in kind.

Silco's eyes remained on his hand, turning it palm upward and then back again.

You attempted to shovel dirt over the mishap.

"Does Jinx-" His shadowed eyes lifted to yours, effectively cutting you off. You schooled your features into indifference as you stared back, cocking your head.

He flexed his hand once before placing it back where it rested, scrutinizing you with a gaze that seemed to sear its way into your innermost thoughts. And maybe he'd come across that fiery ring branded behind your eyelids, because the scarred corner of his lips lifted into the tiniest, yet most devastating of smirks.

All you wanted was to leap across his stupidly large desk and throttle him. You knew better than to think he’d eventually spare you the suffering, so you did it yourself.

“Does Jinx often latch onto people she's just met?”

Silco let you stew in your discomfort for a long moment before he considered your question, crossing his legs.

“She doesn’t."

Your insides warmed again at the thought of the lonely girl spotting something special in you.

“In fact, she seems oddly attached to the idea of keeping you around.”

“That’s… promising.”

“Which is why I have a proposition.”

You stared, uncertain. You could sense the conversation coming to a businesslike close by the way his green eye grew heavy-lidded with a decided lack of enthusiasm.

“Same arrangement. Once a week. On time. You are not to leave the Last Drop. You are not to put Jinx in harm’s way and you are to protect her should the occasion arise.”

“Protect her?”

“You know your way around a knife, do you not?”

In the span of a a few heartbeats, his demeanor had turned snippy, cold, resemblant of your first encounter.

You bit your lip. You did. More than he even knew.

“We will discuss pay providing you accept, but I assure you it will be more than enough to cover work lost.”

You could only allow yourself to reel for a moment at the newest hairpin-turn in the conversation. So, essentially, the Eye of Zaun was offering you a position as a once-a-week babysitter. To be honest, the thought of weekly visits with Jinx weren’t bad at all. It was the proximity to this man that gave you pause. But was he really so bad? I mean, he had spared your head twice now.

Yes, yes he was, your mind corrected. So very evil, but regrettably intriguing. You were just begging for a noose around your neck, the way you were even considering it.

Your gaze rose to his curiously, catching him studying you strangely beneath his brows.

“If I say no?”

His answer was clipped, set in stone. “You will not return.”

Your eyes dropped to his desk, where the stippled top seemed to swirl with the gentle, swaying motion of the dark, shark-infested waters you were contemplating leaping into. “And me? How will I be protected?”

“Is my title not suitable enough?”

You nodded. There was nowhere safer than under the watchful protection of the Eye of Zaun and conversely, nowhere half as dangerous.

You thought back to your brothers words, weeks back, about latching onto whatever misfits happened to walk by next. You supposed, in retrospect, you had to give him a little credit.

“I’ll do it.”

“Oh, good.” The dark, sarcastic inflection sent a small ripple of anticipation down your spine. Silco drank the motion in, the scarred corner of his mouth creasing ever so slightly.

Sevika was right, you were a little fool.

_________

You were met with strange looks as you cascaded down the stairs with a lightness in your step, fully intact.

Silco had told you Jinx was "out of commission" that night, and, with that information, you'd tried to refuse the coin amount you'd agreed upon. You only took payment for a job done, you'd told him, and you certainly didn't want to be paid for the previous week, because it seemed to diminish the experience to accept money retroactively. But he'd leveled you with that fiery stare that left no room for argument and you'd accepted, reluctantly.

Feeling the money burning a hole through your pocket, you trotted over to the bar, plopping it noisily in front of the baffled pink-haired bartender.

"For the life-saving shot."

Spilling onto the pavement outside, you were drawn over to a small gathering of people toward the back end of the deceivingly large building. Following their line of sight, you stared in disbelief at the damage. It looked, frighteningly, as if someone had set off an explosion in an upper room, caving a hole into the roof itself. The smoke seemed to already be receding.

"Happened like an hour ago," you heard someone say.

You wondered why Silco hadn't mentioned a single word about it. The cold air bit into you, and your stomach churned as the mystery unfolded.

Girl's a menace. Blowing shit to hell left and right.

Just what was it that you'd gotten yourself into?

<3 <3 <3

Stay unhinged, my friends.

Love, Sulty <3

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