Summary: Sh’aena did not come from a benevolent people. She came from a resourceful people. And oh, what a resource this halfling would be.
Miles remembered the first time he’d truly felt pain.
These were not his memories, of course. They were the memories of…the other guy. For some reason, it was easier for Miles to remember it that way. He’d been back on Earth, back before everything had truly gone to shit. He’d been young. Five or six, maybe. He’d been climbing a tree out behind his house, hauling himself up its trunk like a banshee at the instruction of some older kids he’d liked to hang around with. He’d been trying to impress them, most likely. Show them that he, too, was strong and powerful and brave
(He’d be the only one out of the group to become a Marine and traverse the stars, later.)
He’d made a gross miscalculation and had slipped, his arms coming free from where he had it hooked around a flimsy branch. The fall had felt much, much longer than it probably was, and the subsequent impact of meat against dirt had popped his shoulder clean out of its socket.
Pain.
He’d have plenty more painful experiences after that, being in the military, being a mercenary on Pandora. He supposed dying was the only thing that had topped it.
Now, in his new body, he was getting to feel what pain felt like for the first time.
And it was happening all over again.
~ ~ ~
Miles must have been delirious, at this point.
He’d lost his earpiece during his fight with Sully. He was most likely concussed, and it had taken half an hour for his nose to finally stop bleeding. He could barely keep hold of his Ikran, and he could tell that the creature was getting tired. Without any basic communicative tools, they were lost.
The sun was going down.
Pandora was a different beast at night. It was as if the planet grew an extra pair of claws - Miles had been briefed many times about the dangers of being out at this particular hour. The forest never slept, he’d been told. Never. Despite the fact that he still had his pistol and his knife strapped to his thigh, he still felt naked.
It took over an hour for him to find somewhere suitable to rest his head, and in doing so, he exerted far too much of what little energy he had left. His Ikran had long disappeared, most likely to find something to eat - the big creature still had a mind of its own, and Miles was nowhere near having him fully tamed.
“Well, shit.”
Miles’ words echoed throughout the forest. Something chirped, in the distance, while something else scurried across the forest floor. Miles was tucked away in his little alcove, beneath the massive, winding roots of a tree. It was inconspicuous enough, though he still felt somewhat exposed.
“What a fucking predicament,” Miles murmured. He deftly slipped his knife from its sheath, twirling it around in his fingers in a fit of boredom.
Is this how you go out? Lost in this god-forsaken forest, wandering until you drop dead from exhaustion or dehydration or…or…
Miles scrunched up his nose. He didn’t want to think about that, not right now. He - the other guy - had survived worse. Miles remembered his human self and the tours he’d done in Africa, the Middle East. He’d escaped death even before venturing to Pandora. Even if he was entirely out of his element here, it didn’t matter. He’d survive. He’d…he’d..
Miles drifted off.
~ ~ ~
“He has the demon’s fingers.”
“Careful, Sh’aena”
Sh’aena hissed. Her brother’s tone was overly-cautious, a bit prodding. He had the spear leveled at the sleeping halflings throat. He would be the one to protect her, if the halfling decided to awaken and attack.
Such an event didn’t look as if it would be the case. The halfling was asleep, curled up around himself like a babe. In such a state, he looked harmless, but Shae knew better than to judge a sleeping enemy. She could see his coiled, thick muscles and broad shoulders. He was a warrior, no doubt.
“I told you it was a mistake coming here,” Shae added. It was rare that she followed her adventurous brother out into the forest, and it was specifically for this reason. He always seemed to find trouble, and trouble always seemed to find him right back.
“The party won’t leave without us,” Fewi replied. “Besides, we’ll be back in their good graces if we bring them something interesting.”
“This is not interesting. This is dangerous - it,” Shae gestured to the sleeping Na’vi, “is dangerous. You have heard the whispers, brother.”
Fewi frowned. He tapped the butt of his spear against the forest floor. He thought for a moment, before turning to face his sister. Then, a grin split across his face.
“I’ll poke him awake. Then we’ll see whether or not he’s truly as dangerous as the rumors say.”
“Don’t you dare!”
Despite her hushed outburst, Fewi moved closer. Shae could only watch her brother, a scowl on her face, as he made soft footfalls across the grass towards the sleeping halfling. He led with the end of his spear, getting just close enough that he could reach out and -
The halfling lunged.
The action startled Shae, and she shrieked. Fewi leaped back in alarm, but the halfling had already grabbed the end of his spear and yanked it clean from his grip. Unarmed, Fewi could only back up, hands raised in placation.
As Fewi stepped away, Shae took the time to observe the halfling. Tall, broad. The clothes he wore were not of the Na’vi, and he had a symbol etched into the skin of his left bicep. He looked…disheveled, as well. His eyes were unfocused, his steps wobbly. He was injured.
The halfling's eyes snapped towards Shae.
“You,” He spoke a broken form a Na’vi, though he spoke it with unusual confidence. “Your arm.”
Shae shivered.
“What about her arm?” Fewi replied.
The halfling was staring so intently that Shae thought he’d bore holes right through her. It was the first time a Na’vi had inquired about her arm with something other than pity or disgust. The makeshift prosthetic, which had been crafted out of pieces of scrapped parts from the sky people’s war birds, had become such a part of her that she usually forgot she was wearing it - until someone brought it up to her.
Like now.
“You made it?”
“I…I did.”
The halfling let out a grunt. He looked between Fewi and Sh’aena. He took one heavy step forward, and then his knees buckled. He fell as if he were a rag toy, landing unconscious in the mud.
Sh’aena glanced over at her brother, her lips pursed. Neither siblings wanted to speak, but they both understood what it was they needed to do. If they left him out here, the creatures of the night would gnaw on his flesh.
Sh’aena did not come from a benevolent people. She came from a resourceful people. And oh, what a resource this halfling would be.
Summary: Silco sends Jinx on a mission to kill you. It doesn’t go as planned.
Warnings: Mentions/description of s*xual a*ssault in this chapter.
Word count: 1.4k
Main Blog @vizhi0n / AO3
“You couldn’t find anything?”
You hated being back in Grayson’s office. It was a place that you’d once used to love, for it was a space that felt secure. Now, it felt isolating. Nothing about it had changed - just the circumstances.
“He was smart about it. Smarter than me.”
Grayson massaged her chin. She wasn’t looking you in the eye, and hadn’t done so throughout the entirety of your meeting. She knew how much you hated being pitied, and you wondered if her avoidance was due to the fact that she wouldn’t be able to help but pity you. The entire situation, after all, was pathetic.
You were pathetic.
“I’m sorry,” You didn’t know who you were apologizing to. “I shouldn’t have…bothered your time with all of this. What’s done is done. I should have known not to mess with a councilman’s son, anyway.”
Grayson’s fingers twitched. In a cool voice, she said, “You are not to blame for this.”
“Yeah, but-”
“Not ‘but,’ what he did to you was a blatant violation of code, and even more importantly, a blatant violation of your trust and your rights,” Grayson said. She paused for a bit, eyes cast downward at her desk, as if she didn’t even want to speak her next words. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help to you.”
You can.
You can get rid of him.
You held your tongue. You knew how it worked. You had no proof - you’d be making a grand accusation with nothing to back it up. The fact that he was the son of a councilman would put you under even more scrutiny, and you knew that even if Grayson were to vouch for you…without evidence, her career would be in jeopardy.
You’d lost. He’d won.
Something inside your gut twisted, and you felt the sudden urge to vomit. You’d always been a prideful person. The act itself had been short, but the fact that you’d be forced to walk the halls with him for presumably the rest of your career…knowing. Knowing that every smirk, every smile he’d send your way meant something else -
I win. You lose.
“Can I…can I take some time off?” You said softly. Grayson nodded, letting out a long sigh that she’d been holding in. “Thank you.”
You started packing your bags that night.
~~~
You awoke to someone patting a damp cloth against your forehead. Then, spindly fingers prodded at your shoulder.
“She is awake.”
You didn’t recognize the man’s voice, but you did recognize Silco’s silhouette sitting next to you. Your eyes met his, but you couldn’t really focus. Your mind felt sluggish, and you were struggling to process your surroundings.
Silco. Bed. Room. Wall.
Pain.
It started as a dull ache in your right shoulder that began to spread. You blew air through your gritted teeth, back arching off the bed. A strong hand pressed against your sternum and forced you back down.
“Give her another dose,” Silco said sharply. “She’s hurting.”
Your head lolled to the side, and your gaze involuntarily fell across the figure at the end of the bed. You thought you were seeing double, at first, for his body type resembled Silco’s - wiry - but then you saw the bandages across his face and neck and chest and you knew it was a stranger. He held a syringe in one hand and was analyzing the liquid inside with an almost bored expression.
“I’ve given her enough. Another dose could result in death - she will have to withstand the pain.”
You tried to speak, but your mouth felt as if it were full of cotton.
“She will live,” the stranger said, “and she will regain full mobility of her arm.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“When has my aid ever failed you, Silco?”
No response. This prompted you to flop your head back over to Silco - he glanced down at you, brushed his fingers across your damp cheek, and then stood up from the edge of the bed. Had you not been drugged into near silence, you would have cried out for him.
“I’m going to find Jinx. Watch over her, and try to do something about the pain.”
“You find seeing her in such a state…uncomfortable?” The stranger posed it as a question.
“If I said yes, would that satisfy your curiosity?”
“Perhaps,” the stranger hummed, and walked over to the array of tools and trinkets strewn across Silco’s wide, bedside table. “Carry on.”
While you were fairly certain this stranger was the one responsible for you not dying, you really, really didn’t want to be left alone with him. Your discomfort must have shown, even in your drugged out state, for after Silco had shut the door gently behind him, the stranger came and took a knee by the bed.
“The fear you are feeling is natural. I am not known for my bedside manner,” he held up the syringe he’d been examining. The liquid inside was a dullish pink. “The dose I am about to give you will help prevent any infection from spreading. It will be agonizing .”
You felt a tear slip from your eyes.
~~~
When you awoke a second time, you were relieved to find that you could speak, and that Jinx was with you.
“What happened?”
Jinx refused to look at you. She fiddled with the sheets of your - Silco’s - bed. You reached out with one shaky hand and wrapped it around her wrist, stopping her ministrations. Finally, she met your gaze.
“Don’t shut me out. Talk to me, please.”
“I..I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“I let them get my bombs and I…you said not to run in, and I did,” Jinx seemed on the verge of hyperventilating. If it wasn’t for your incapiciated state, you wondered if she would be having a breakdown. “You almost died. I thought you were dead when I pulled you out of the water.”
“H-how did you get me back?”
“Sevika was tailing us in case we needed backup. She saw the explosion,” Jinx gulped. “I…I thought my da - Silco - told you that?”
You shook your head as best as you could. Then, you made the painful move to try and push yourself into a sitting position. Your entire right arm, down to your fingers, was numb, so you could only use one hand. Then, you sat back against the headboard.
You suddenly realized just where you were. Yes, it was Silco’s room. Rather undecorated, but deliberate in the decoration that it did have. It was like…Silco, in a way. Lacking gaudiness but with a hint of flair. Filled with dark greens and dark velvets. The sheets of his bed were silky and black.
“He didn’t,” Your mind finally settled on the events that had transpired on the boat. The man who’d grappled with you. His words.
You don’t know?
You tried, for Jinx’s sake, not to spit your next words.
“He didn’t tell me anything.”
Despite Jinx’s protests, you swung your legs over the side of the bed. Her small hands pawed at you, but you brushed them away before nearly toppling - you caught yourself on the bedside table.
“W-where are you going?”
"To see him,” You gritted your teeth as you felt something pop - probably a stitch - in your shoulder. “I need to see him.”
“He went to a Chembaron meeting, so he’s not here!” Jinx exclaimed. That stopped you, and you stood braced against the door as her words settled in. You felt your world tilt, and you were suddenly staring up at the ceiling. You’d barely registered your back slamming against the carpeted floor.
Small hands settled against your arm.
“H-he’s not here,” Jinx repeated. “Please. Singed s-said for you to s-stay in bed.”
“So that’s his name,” You groaned. “Fuck.”
You didn’t have the energy to stand, so you allowed for Jinx to help you settle against the side of the bed. You reached up with your good hand and wiped away tears you hadn’t even realized were falling, glancing over at the girl you’d spent the past…almost a year, now, mentoring. She peered back at you.
“I’m sorry,” You murmured. You closed your eyes and let the back of your head hit the dark comforter. “I’ll rest. I’ll rest, I promise.”
“Good,” Jinx let out a breath and pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll go get you something to eat. When Silco comes back, I’ll tell you. I swear it.”
You nodded. You were exhausted, so much so that you decided to call upon what little strength you had left to pull yourself up onto the bed. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you felt yourself begin to drift off.
Summary: Silco sends Jinx on a mission to kill you. It doesn’t go as planned.
Warnings: Mentions/description of s*xual a*ssault in this chapter.
Word count: 1.5k
Main Blog @vizhi0n / AO3
“You’re tense,” Silco’s voice was hushed, almost overpowered by the dull thrum of music emitting from within The Last Drop. You remained standing with your arms crossed in the back alley behind the club, one of Silco’s cigars clutched between your fingers. You took a drag, eyes focused on the wall opposite of you.
A hand slid across the back of your neck to knead at the sore muscles of your shoulder. You welcomed Silco’s touch, lifting your head up and breathing a deep, smoky sigh.
“I’m just…tired.”
“Is that all?” Silco murmured.
“Yeah. That’s all.”
After snuffing your cigar out against your boot, you turned and slid your arms around his narrow waist. He smelled of smoke and brandy as you buried your face against his neck. You relished in the closeness, and grinned as Silco traced patterns against your back. This sort of contact had become normal - ever since the incident in your apartment, just a few weeks ago. It hadn’t moved past soft touches and kisses. It was as if you were both afraid to push it any further.
“I’m sending Jinx on another mission. There are some…undesirables interrupting our shimmer shipment,” Silco said softly. He pressed a kiss against the side of your head before pulling away so he could look at you. “I want you to accompany her.”
You raised an eyebrow. When Silco’s expression did not waver, you let out a long sigh.
“It’s a big deal, huh?”
“Yes, but not big enough that you and Jinx couldn’t handle it together. I know I’ve been paying you to train Jinx - I want you to do more, if you’ll have it.”
“I’ll go with her,” You said immediately, “Call it a…live training exercise.”
Silco chuckled. His hand dropped from your arms, and he gestured with his chin towards the back door of The Last Drop.
“Shall we?”
You smiled and stepped into the noise.
~~~
“Remember, when you fire, make sure you have a firm grip on the handle,” You reached over and adjusted Jinx’s grip, patting her hand when you were finished. She huffed and aimed at the wall before her, before sighing and sliding the gun into her holster. She turned to you for direction.
The docks were silent, and the sea was so calm and black that you almost couldn’t tell where it ended and where the sky began. Piltover twinkled in the background, and as you surveyed the vast array of ships before you, movement caught your eye.
There.
“Do you see them?” Jinx crawled to join you behind the line of stacked crates. You squinted, pressing yourself against the wood and shimmying forward just a bit more. You did see them, a dozen figures, milling around atop the closest ship. You reached for your own gun, running your fingers across the hilt. Silco had instructed you both to be quick and precise - his scouts had been adamant about the group would be positioned at the docks, and you didn’t want to waste their hard work. Whatever they were doing, they were doing it quickly, so you and Jinx had to act.
“Loop around,” You murmured. Jinx nodded, ponytail whipping behind her as she darted out of your sight. You remained still, eyes narrowed to slits. Then, you moved, keeping yourself crouched low to the ground.
The group didn’t even see you coming.
There was one, standing guard down by the ramp. The moment he turned away you’d slammed your pistol against the side of his head - you caught him before he could hit the ground and dragged his body behind the crates. Then, you made your way up the ramp.
Voices filled your ears as you got closer, and you poked your head up into the boat. It was illuminated with torches, and you could see a long, rectangular table near the hull. About half a dozen men were seated, drinks in hand as they played cards. The other six were at work, moving crates down into the depths of the ship. To anyone else, they would have been a rather innocent scene.
You gulped. You prayed Silco’s informants had been correct, and you briefly wished that you’d taken up Sevika’s offer for her to accompany you. Both you and Jinx were lithe and fast - you weren’t built for raw strength and musculature. That meant that every step, every shot had to be exact, no room for mishaps.
On the other side of the ship, you saw a pair of bright eyes peering at you. Jinx was in position, and you quickly raised your hand and gave the signal.
Now.
You saw the smoke grenades arc across the sky. They landed one by one - one near the hull, one by the entrance to what you assumed was the captain’s quarters, and one by where you crouched at the ramp - it bounced across the wood, spurting white.
Tables and chairs toppled. Men shouted, and you heard the click of guns and the scrap of steel. You leaped forward, cocking your weapon and blasting a hole through the heads of the nearest two goons. Bullets whizzed by your head and scooped out fabric from your shirt, but you kept moving.
One. Two. Three. The flash of orange from the muzzle of your gun was like a supernova. It filled your ears and became the only sound you could recognize. White smoke and blood filled your vision, your adrenaline running wild.
You hadn’t seen Jinx, yet, Occasionally you thought you’d seen the whip of her blue ponytail, but you weren’t sure. That was a good thing. It meant that she was heeding your advice and moving fast, before any of the much larger men could get their hands on her.
You dropped two more goons. One lunged at you with a curved knife, and you sidestepped his attack and slammed your gun against the side of his head. To your surprise, he shook it off and threw himself at you once more. You kicked the knife from his hand, but he was on you. Your gun clattered against the floor.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit!
Your back slammed against the wall of the captain’s quarters. Bloody hands wrapped around your throat and squeezed. Then, suddenly, they loosened.
“I know you.”
The man’s face was an ashy gray, his eyes blue and bloodshot. He smiled, and removed one big hand from your neck. He hissed, “You were an Enforcer,” Your blood ran cold, but you remained still. “Yeah. Yeah, I remember you. Took me in for, what was it, trespassing on private property?”
He reeled back and punched you. Your head snapped to the side and you felt your tooth catch on your lower lip, slicing right through the skin. Blood dripped from your mouth and onto the floor.
You felt nothing. Not because it didn’t hurt, but because you’d expected the pain.
“Bitch,” the man grit his teeth. “You’re working for him now, huh? After what he did to your Sheriff?”
Now you struggled. He hadn’t even spoken Grayson’s name, but just the mere mention of her likeness had heat flaring within you.
“What are you talking about?” You snarled.
No. No, it couldn’t be true.
“You didn’t hear?” the goon hissed. “Stinks for you, I guess. He cleared one more pig from the street, I’ll commend him for that. That’s all I’ll commend him for-”
You didn’t see the bullet enter through the side of his head, but you felt the spray of his blood against your face. His grip on you slackened and he fell against the wood like a sack of potatoes.
Blood was familiar to you. It was his words that made you want to double over and vomit all across the ground.
You should have known.
“Hey, are you okay?” A soft voice snapped you from your trance. You looked up and furiously wiped blood - and tears - from your face. Jinx was peering at you, eyes wide with worry. Most of the smoke had dissipated, but the smell was lingering.
“I’m fine. Just the grenades,” You let out a weak cough and reached down for your fallen weapon. “Let’s clear the place”-
“Hey!”
You and Jinx both spun. A gangly man with spots of red all across his white shirt stood on shaky legs, right above the hatch leading to the inside of the boat. He looked two steps away from death, but had mustered the strength to hold something round within his hand.
“That’s one of my bombs,” Jinx breathed. She frantically patted at the open pack strapped to her thigh, face morphing into one filled with dread. Your eyes flickered over to the girl, and then back to the man.
“Silco sent you, didn’t he?” The man’s lower lip quivered. He staggered back a bit, before righting himself. Blood dripped from his nose.
“Put the bomb down,” You said immediately. You didn’t take your eyes away from him, and you were careful not to make any sudden movements. “Put it down. Now.”
He didn’t reply. Dying fingers reached for the pin, and you couldn’t help the shriek that bubbled from within your throat as you saw Jinx move towards the man at breakneck speed.
“Jinx, no!”
You were one step behind her. You hand grabbed her shoulder - the sudden movement caused the man to panic and pull the pin of the bomb. It fell down the hatch and into the depths of the hull.
Being thrown into the ocean via the concussive force of an explosion wasn’t how you wanted this mission to end, but it was preferable to getting a bullet between the eyes. You’d given yourself a Jinx a head start, and the two of you were halfway over the side of the ship before whatever chemicals were stored inside ignited and erupted. Your body flew like a ragdoll through the air, and you felt something pierce your shoulder before your lungs became filled with ocean water. You couldn’t see your own blood through the darkness, but you knew it was swirling around you.
You felt your eyes flutter shut, and you let yourself begin to sink.
Summary: Silco sends Jinx on a mission to kill you. It doesn’t go as planned.
Warnings: Mentions/description of s*xual a*ssault in this chapter.
Word count: 1.5k
Main Blog @vizhi0n / AO3
You had a dream, that night.
It was a pleasant dream. Your bed was uncharacteristically soft - it didn’t feel like a bed at all, it felt like a warm embrace. There was the faintest hint of…smoke, too, but it was sweet. Sickeningly sweet.
A hand brushed against your bare thigh. Someone chuckled against your ear, and you realized that the weight on top of you wasn’t a blanket, but something else. Something just as soft. Lips tickled your ear.
“Do you want me?”
Your answer was immediate.
“Yes.”
Teeth nipped at your ear. Thin lips pressed against the soft skin of your throat, traveling down to your shoulder. He was insatiable, and you writhed beneath him. Fingers danced across your skin, sliding across your exposed breast and tugging at your nipple. You cursed, and you felt his breath against your flesh as he chuckled.
“Naughty,” his palm slid past your breast, down your stomach. You felt his fingers slip past your panties and -
“WAKE UP!”
Your eyes snapped open. The bed creaked and you yelped as a blue-haired, pale-faced figure careened onto your bed. Jinx giggled as she shook you.
“You’re late!”
“Huh?”
“You’re late,” Jinx fell still, and your bed ceased its rocking. “Training. Now. We were supposed to meet, remember?”
You rubbed sleep from your eyes and sat up. Light streamed into your room from where Jinx had most likely opened the blinds in an attempt at waking you. You took a moment, looking around, before sliding from the bed. Jinx followed, and you suddenly stopped.
“How did you get in?”
“Window,” Jinx gestured with her thumb. “I got the lock unscrewed.”
“Hm,” You pursed your lips. “Smart girl. I’ll have to lock it harder next time - and you avoided the sound traps.”
“Yeah,” Jinx beamed and hopped around as you dressed. “You’d be dead if I were an enemy!”
You smiled. Though it seemed absurd, you were proud. Your training was having some effect - just another reminder that what you were doing was working. As you pulled on your jacket, you caught a glimpse of Jinx disappearing into your living room.
“She’s up!”
You froze, jacket pulled halfway across your body.
Silco sat, lounging, on your couch. He’d taken the luxury to make himself some tea, it seemed, and was sipping it languidly. Your blood ran cold, and you gulped. Your dream came rushing back to you as you saw those fingers, curled around the handle of the teacup -
“Something wrong? I do hope you slept well,” Silco murmured, peering over at you from the rim of his cup. “Jinx was insistent that I come to check in on you.”
“I’m okay. I just must be…tired. I’m usually on a better clock,” You scratched your head. “You didn’t have to come check in on me.”
“Oh, but I did,” Silco gestured for Jinx. The younger girl shuffled over to him, and he grasped her wrist and murmured, “Head back home. We’ll meet you there.”
Jinx nodded. She shot you a final look before bounding through your door - a door that she, no doubt, had unlocked for Silco. Now, you were alone with him. It was the first time, you realized, that he’d seen your place of residence. It felt…different. It felt…intimate. You shuffled over to him and took a seat on the other end of the couch, watching him as he set his tea on the coffee table.
“I’m sorry for being late,” You said softly.
Silco waved a hand. “I’ve been working you far too hard. You needed a break, and so did Jinx. I’m impressed with the progress you’ve made with her.”
“Thank you,” You smiled. “I think she’ll be ready soon. She won’t need me anymore.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll…need you,” Silco chuckled lightly. His eyes darted to the teacup, and then back to you. He seemed to relax, and you watched as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a syringe. “Do you mind? I don’t wish to get shimmer on your couch. It stains."
“That’s shimmer?”
“A special dose made by an acquaintance of mine,” Silco flipped the syringe over in his hand, and you instinctively scooted closer to get a better look at it. The purple liquid inside sloshed as held it up for you to see. “Helps with the infection.”
You were close to him, now. Close enough to really study his eye. Despite the makeup, you could see the slight, jagged indent from his scars. His face was fucked, but for some reason, it felt like a part of him. You would have believed it, if he told you, that he’d been born with those scars and that bright orange and black eye. He carried it like it was a part of him.
Your hand rose. Silco froze, but he let you gently run the pads of your fingers against his skin. Then, he turned, and you settled your palm against his cheek.
It was just like your dream.
“I…I’d like you to do my injection,” Silco broke the silence. Your hand slipped from his face and he held the syringe out to you. “Hold it over the eye and push down when you’re ready.”
He settled back, tilting his head so that it rested against the back of your couch. You saw his hands, fingers flexing, slide down his thighs. It was an awkward angle, and you really didn’t feel as if it would be appropriate to sit in his lap - you stood, walking around to the other side of the couch so that you could stand over him. His eyes settled on you, and you placed a hand back on his cheek to steady him.
“Will it hurt?” You asked hesitantly.
“It will. Don’t worry - I’ve become accustomed to the pain.”
You winced. Silco’s voice was emotionless, and you stroked his skin with your thumb as a way of…calming him. Settling his nerves. Despite the confidence in his tone, you could still see his fingers curling into the fabric of his pants, tense, and ready.
You slid the syringe into position, right above his wide-open, infected eye. Your thumb kept stroking his skin.
You pressed downward. The needle moved, imperceptible, jabbing into his open eye. Silco’s entire body snapped taut, and hissed. It was a long, drawn out sound. Liquid oozed from his eye, and for a brief moment, that brilliant orange became a swirling purple.
Then, it was over. Silco was panting, still staring up at you. Sweat beaded on his forehead. You stayed standing behind him, looking down at him.
A hand reached up to cup your cheek. It was like gravity was pulling you down.
Your lips touched his.
Your dream was real.
~~~
“He did what?” Grayson spun to stare at you, eyes wide. Though she was a naturally intimidating woman, when she was angry, it was like looking into a volcano. Her voice boomed throughout her office. You continued staring down at the floor, face expressionless.
“He raped me.”
All the energy seemed to drain from Grayson’s body. She slumped into her office chair, eyes darting around as no doubt her mind spun with thoughts. You’d blurted it out, so suddenly, without thinking. You’d been called into her office for a completely unrelated matter. Something to do with patrol or budgeting or…or…
You couldn’t remember. You were finding that remembering was more difficult, nowadays.
“He’s the son of a councilmen. Such an accusation carries…heavy implications,” Grayson rolled her chair forward. “I’m not questioning your story. I believe you - but what I believe doesn’t really matter when it comes to something like this.”
“You’re…you’re the Sheriff,” You looked up at the woman who had mentored you.
“Strings were pulled behind my back. He should have never been put on the force in the first place,” Grayson’s nostrils flared, and you could tell she was doing her best to control her anger. In a level voice, she glanced over at you and said, “Run the details by me again?”
“We were…out. Off duty. He invited me for some drinks and I accepted and…I was drunk,” You blinked, suddenly. You could feel tears. You didn’t want tears, but they were coming anyway. You glanced down and spoke to the floor. “Yeah. I was drunk. He wanted to have sex and I said no, and then said that I wasn’t feeling well and that I needed to go to the bathroom. He took me in there and-”
“That’s enough,” Grayson said suddenly. You hadn’t heard her roll her chair around her desk so that she was next to you. “Look up at me.”
You obeyed. Her expression broke your heart.
“I can’t expel him without evidence . You and I both know this. He’s going to deny every accusation you throw at him,” Grayson gulped. “You need to find something. Anything.”
“Anything,” You murmured.
“I take my job very seriously, and that means making sure those accused are given a fair trial. Doesn’t matter if the accuser is…one of the brightest students I’ve ever had,” Grayson gulped. “The system has to work fairly for everyone .”
Your stomach felt empty, like you’d eaten only air for lunch. You nodded frantically, even though you knew you’d already lost. You couldn’t lose her. You just couldn’t.
Summary: Silco sends Jinx on a mission to kill you. It doesn’t go as planned.
Warnings: Mentions of s*xual a*ssault in this chapter.
Word count: 1.2k
Main Blog @vizhi0n / AO3
“It seems Jinx was right. You are a good shot.”
You lowered your rifle. Branches still swayed from where birds had shot up into the trees in a flurry of feathers. The forest was silent, like it always was after you finished shooting off rounds.
Silco was leaning against a tree, cigar in hand. It was almost odd, seeing him in a space that you and Jinx, at this point, considered sacred. Three weeks, had it been? You couldn’t remember. The days blurred together, but you were grateful for it. This was one of the few times you’d decided to come out to the range alone, enjoying the space - it was so different from down below - Zaun. The light was real, not artificial. The ground beneath your feet wasn’t littered with glass and shimmer needles and soot.
“I’m surprised you left all of this,” Silco gestured to the pristine wilderness around him, “Behind.”
“Did you just come to gloat about what could have been?”
“I don’t engage in such…garish displays of pride,” Silco replied. His eyes followed you as you placed your rifle against a tree, rolling your shoulders and walking over to him. You extended a hand, and Silco slipped his cigar into your fingers. You took a long drag before handing it back to him. The smoke calmed you.
“Then why are you here? Especially since Jinx isn’t training today.”
“Am I not allowed to visit?”
“How did you even know that I came out here?”
Silco’s head-tilt was almost imperceptible. “I have my eyes and ears.”
“You were tracking me?”
“Hm,” Silco hummed and raised his cigar to his lips. “Something like that.”
Heat rose to your cheeks. Silco seemed to notice that your posture was rigid and that your eyes were narrowed to slits, because he snuffed out his cigar against the tree, leaving a black circle in the bark.
“You still don’t trust me?”
“It’s not about trust. It’s about safety - your safety,” Silco said firmly. “I’m not the only one with eyes down here. I don’t want someone seeing you and getting the wrong idea.”
“I can take care of myself, Silco.”
“Can you?” Silco’s tone was almost teasing, though there was an edge to it.
You jerked a chin over to your rifle and said, “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’ve been brushing up on old skills recently. I’m probably better trained than I was when I first came down here.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
You were reading the situation wrong, and you were letting your pride get in the way. You knew Silco was right. You were one person - one relatively small person, at that. You’d caught Jinx because she’d been an amateur, but a skilled assassin or kidnapper creeping through your window? One that was bigger, or stronger?
Silco had gone from offering you a job, to offering you - giving you - security.
“Why?” You hadn’t meant to ask the question out loud, but you did anyway. Silco seemed to have caught onto your own realization.
“Jinx has grown quite fond of you.”
“That’s not the only reason.”
Silco pushed off the tree and stepped closer to you. He reached out with a gloved hand, and you were surprised that you did not flinch. His thumb traced your lower lip before falling away - he seemed as if he were holding himself back, fighting something within his very core. Then, he stepped back.
Your hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist, stopping him.
“Please don’t shut me out.”
Silco’s eyes lazily drifted down to the grip you had on his arm. He grit his chipped teeth, before saying, “You don’t know what it is you’re getting into.”
“I’ve never been one to run away, so show me. Show me what it is I’m getting into.”
“Minx,” Silco murmured. His eyes searched your face once again, but it seemed that the voice inside his head won out. He slipped his arm from your grip, and you let him. “I won’t allow myself to be tempted. Not again.”
He turned and sauntered away, fingers searching through his thick coat for another cigar. You did not follow him, and instead watched him go. It hurt. It hurt to see him leave, to see him push you away because he wouldn’t -
Couldn’t. He couldn’t do it, and neither can you.
Silco was an enigma. Impossible to read, impossible to figure out - if such a thing was even possible. He’d clothed you. Fed you. Given you security. Given you his daughter to train, while still insisting that you were just some Enforcer. He’d let you in just a few inches, but you still felt stuck outside, for some reason.
You wanted more. You wanted him.
You swallowed thickly, reaching over to grab your rifle and your bag. You felt naked, suddenly, out in the forest. Exposed for everyone to see. Going back to the underground would help you mask your emotions.
Such a thing was not unfamiliar to you.
~ ~ ~
“You’re not supposed to be in here, Lieutenant. These lockers are for new recruits.”
Your shoulders tensed. Your Enforcer uniform suddenly felt way too tight, way too constricting. He was behind you, speaking to you as casually as one might when inquiring about the weather.
“I can be wherever the hell I want. Don’t talk to me.”
“Rude,” he crossed his arms. He was so much bigger than you, and stronger, too. He’d demonstrated that fine the week prior. You could still imagine his breath on you, the sweat -
You spun. Bright eyes stared down at you, and it took everything in your power not to slap the smirk from his face.
He said, “Don’t be so hung up about what happened. We were just having some fun.”
“Fun?” Your voice echoed throughout the empty locker room. You could hear noise outside, though - if he pounced and you screamed, someone would surely come running. Last time, you’d been utterly alone with him. “You know damn well what happened wasn’t fun. For you, maybe, but not for me.”
“You wanted it.”
“I told you to stop.”
“That was the alcohol talking,” he shrugged. “It was. You know it was.”
“If I tell Grayson-”
“Grayson can try and do whatever she damn well pleases. My position is locked. This isn’t something you need to go to her about because guess what? What’s done is done. Maybe someday you’ll enjoy what I gave you and come back for more-”
You slapped him before he’d even finished his sentence. In fact, it was more like a backhanded punch. Your knuckles caught his face and his head snapped to the side, blood spraying. He staggered back and slammed, hard, against the lockers.
“Fucking bitch-”
Your hand throbbed. You fully expected him to retaliate, but to your surprise, he just covered his nose with one hand and glared at you.
You left the locker rooms before another word could be spoken, head ducked as you passed through the string of officers milling through the halls. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t see Grayson’s hulking form turn the corner, and you nearly smashed right into her - the sturdy woman grasped you by both arms before you could stumble.
“Careful,” Her voice was calm, but it still held that slightly stern undertone that you’d become so accustomed to. “Remember what I told you about distractions?”
“Always keep the mind focused on the task at hand,” You mumbled.
“Right. So what is it that has you with your head down?” Grayson replied.
Tell her.
Do it.
It felt like ages before you could reply, the words slipping out monotone and devoid of intent. Still, it was the best damn lie you’d ever told, and you knew Grayson would believe it before you’d even spoken.
“I’m just tired, that’s all. Long day.”
That was the first time, despite all your training in the art of deception and subterfuge, that you’d truly put on your mask.
Summary: Silco sends Jinx on a mission to kill you. It doesn’t go as planned.
Warnings: None for this chapter.
Word count: 1.8k
Main Blog @vizhi0n / AO3
You allowed Jinx to enter Silco’s office, first. You remained in the hallway, leaning against the wall with a cigarette that you’d borrowed from a haggard Sevika. You rarely smoked, but for some reason, you felt the need to have something in your hand to distract you. The almost sweet scent of smoke was doing a decent enough job of calming your nerves.
When Jinx finally exited, she shot you a cheeky smile and then bounded off. You watched her go, and when you turned, you saw that she’d left the door to Silco’s office wide open.
You gulped.
The Eye of Zaun was still reclining in his chair, nails rapping against the top of his desk in a slow, almost musical rhythm. A glass of bourbon sat, inches away. As you entered, you made sure to close the door behind you - you valued privacy just as much as he did. Once the noise from outside had become muffled with a click, You turned and faced Silco fully.
“Well?”
His words were low, thick with something you couldn’t decipher.
“She came to me first.”
“Hm.”
“You’re not…concerned?” You decided to tread lightly. Jinx was a sensitive topic. “She came to me before she came to you. She snuck into my room, and I found her…”
“You found her, and you returned her to me. Quite the good samaritan, you are,” Silco had yet to look at you. His hand stopped its thrumming and went to the brandy glass. He lifted it to his lips, eyes lazily focusing on something on the wall. “Now, was there something you wanted?”
“Uh…a ‘thank you?’”
Now he looked at you.
Victory.
He downed his bourbon in one swig, his chair creaking as he stood. You stood your ground as he approached, letting out a shuddering breath as he stopped practically a breath away. One brilliant blue eye narrowed, and he almost spat his next words.
“Are you toying with me?”
Your next breath came out ragged. Silco seemed to sense your discomfort and relaxed a bit, tension seeping from his shoulders as he realized your statement hadn’t been said with malice.
“I’m not. I think I’m owed a ‘thank you’, because the girl came back alive because of my training,” You tilted your chin up. “That was what you wanted, right? That was your goal. Your plan.”
“My plan was for her to complete her mission, yes.”
“And if she didn’t? If she came back to you as a corpse, what then? She’s your daughter-”
Silco visibly winced. Your mouth snapped shut, and you fell silent. You had to remain composed until your debt was paid.
“I see Jinx as an opportunity,” Silco said softly.
“Is that what I am to you, too? An opportunity?”
“I don’t know what you are,” Silco said harshly. “To think that I’d keep a former enforcer in my presence…perhaps I need to reevaluate my priorities.”
Your lips curled back over your teeth. It had been months since he’d brought up your past as an enforcer. Months. You’d gotten into a routine - he paid you to train Jinx, and you came in like a member of his own staff.
It enraged you.
Why couldn’t you belong?
You said nothing. Silco’s eyes searched your face, and you were proud when he made an unassuming hum that you know meant that he couldn’t find anything, nothing to use, nothing to pick apart. He stepped closer, and his scent flooded you. His presence was suffocating, but in the way that made something deep within your gut coil.
“You’ve gotten better at masking yourself around me. Has the fear settled?”
“Right in the pit,” You answered honestly. “The Eye of Zaun is just a man, nothing more, holding onto the same past that I am.”
“I don’t forgive easily.”
“Neither do I. It’s why I’m here. You know this,” You glanced up at him. “I think you know that, too. It’s why you haven’t killed me, and it’s why you’re letting me train Jinx.”
Silco’s eyes narrowed. “You speak in riddles. Did they teach you that at the Academy?”
“I picked it up from the people I met down here. People who can’t give away too much, or risk having everything taken from them.”
“What is it that you fear I’ll take from you?” Silco drawled. “Our relationship is transactional. You provide, I pay. There’s nothing for me to take.”
Those eyes - one a brilliant blue and the other a swirling orange - they bore into you. You turned your head away, but he caught your chin between his fingers and forced You to look back at him. The response was immediate, your hand jutting upwards to wrap around his wrist.
Hold.
Your heart pounded. There was a gentle pressure against your skin as Silco’s hold on your flesh tightened, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by the death grip you had on him.
“No more riddles. Do I make myself clear?”
“Not until you figure out what I am to you.”
Silco’s nostrils flared and brows tightened. He dug his nail into your skin, and for a moment, you thought it would draw blood - then, he was tearing his hand away, as if your touch had burnt him.
In a soft voice, you said, “A place won’t carve itself out for me here without your permission. Let me in, so that I can let go. I know you don’t forgive easily, but I’m not asking for that.”
After a long stretch of silence, Silco spoke.
“You’ve trained Jinx well.”
“She can learn more. She knows how to shoot a gun, but she can do better. I need access to weapons, a range. Someplace to take her.”
Silco chewed on the inside of his mouth. He pondered over your words, before returning to his chair and slouching onto the cushioned seat with a sigh.
“How much space are we talking about?”
“Not a lot. I can train her on long-range and short range weapons. The more she knows, the better,” You paused, and then said, “Forest would be best. I know some places.”
“Topside?”
“...Around that area,” You grit your teeth, waiting for him to shoot it down. Another pause.
“I’ll grant it.”
“Seriously?”
“This is you having my permission,” Silco smirk was almost…charming. A little quirk of the mouth and raise of the eyebrows. “Have her back before sundown.”
~ ~ ~
“Does your d - Silco - does he get…lonely?”
You were on a lunch break. You and Jinx had been shooting for around an hour, and were now digging into the meal you’d packed for the two of you. It was mid-spring, which meant that the forest was alive with life - even after you’d fill the space with the sound of gunfire, the birds would still come back minutes later, chirping. Chaos returned to serenity, so unlike the life you lived now.
“Lonely?” Jinx sputtered through a mouthful of food. “Uh, I dunno. I thought so for a while, but then Sevika said his face just looks like that. Besides, he has me!”
“True,” You shrugged your shoulders. “I was just curious. Does he…date? Bring people home with him after he goes out drinking?”
Jinx made an “ew” face and furiously shook her head. “No, he doesn’t. That’s gross!”
You snorted, and flopped back onto the grass. You watched a bird pass overhead before you wrinkled your nose as a long, blue braided strand of hair dragged across your forehead. Jinx was staring down at you, a scowl on her face.
“Why do you want to know about his love life?”
“I told you, I’m just curious.”
“That’s a lame answer,” Jinx’s eyes widened, and she leaped away. “You like him, don’t you?”
You shot up immediately, glaring daggers at the girl. “No.”
It was the best lie you’d ever told. Jinx huffed and crossed her arms, her lips curling into a devilish smirk. “Okay,” her tone was coy, and her innocence was fake. “Whatever you say.”
You flopped back down. “Jinx,” You sighed. “Life is…complicated. People are complicated. You think you can read them, until you can’t. You think you can trust them, until you can’t. Life is cruel and unfair, and that’s just the way it is.”
“Trust me, I know,” Jinx pulled her knees up against her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs.
“Your da - Silco - he’s probably the most complicated puzzle I’ve ever had to put together, and I’m sure he does it intentionally. I don’t want to miss a piece, or put one in the wrong place. That’s what’s gotten me in trouble in the past.”
“With the Enforcers?”
“With a lot of things,” You turned your head and looked over at the younger girl. “Don’t look at what people say, look at what they do. How they move, and what they do with the moves that they make.”
Jinx remained silent. Then, in a soft voice, she asked, “Did…did you hurt people like me when you were an Enforcer?”
Your heart plummeted into your stomach. The question seemed innocent, but Jinx was smart - she knew the answer already. She just wanted to hear you admit it, out loud, to her.
“I did. Kids. When they’d sneak into Piltover to try and snag jewels from Topsiders, I had orders to stop them. Sometimes, they’d fight back - I’d hit them, break their bones, and arrest them. I did it so many times that I lost track.”
“If those are the moves that you made, then why do you think I should trust you now? Is it because you’ve changed?”
Your laugh was sardonic. “I’m still the same shithead, Jinx. Just like Silco. Just…not towards people like you. Not anymore.”
Jinx fell silent once again. That silence stretched on, until your only focus was on the forest around you. The sounds. The silence.
You could have had this. You’d be alone, here, but you could have had this life.
“You’re a good shot, Jinx,” You murmured.
“Huh?”
“You have a good aim. You’re good with long-range weapons - compliments your preference for explosives. We should focus on that next time. You’re small, skinny, so you won’t be a brawler like Sevika.”
“That brute has me beat, huh?”
“No. She’s just different. People lose when they pretend to be something that they aren’t, instead of playing to what they have,” You replied. “Sevika knows who she is. Silco knows who he is. We’ve just got to find who you are - unless you already know?”
No response. Those big eyes stared at you, and you smiled.
“We’ll figure it out. Now c’mon - let’s shoot off a few more rounds and then go home.”
Summary: Silco sends Jinx on a mission to kill you. It doesn’t go as planned.
Warnings: None for this chapter.
Word count: 1.2k
Main Blog @vizhi0n / AO3
“You’re doing a good job. With the kid.”
You heard Sevika light her cigar. The flick of the lighter and the slight hiss was as familiar to your ears as rain. You glanced at the burly woman over your shoulder, trying to appear as neutral as possible. Her words were innocent enough, but there was a weight to them that you couldn’t quite decipher.
The Last Drop had been cleared out for the night, though they had yet to cut the music or dim the lights. You’d offered to help clean, if only to satiate your boredom until Jinx arrived for her training. Sevika had appeared like a ghost in the night, and you were almost unnerved at how such a physically intimidating woman could move in such silence. She seemed like the rambunctious type, yet each word she spoke was calculating and clear.
No wonder Silco kept her as his second.
“Silco thinks I’m going too hard on her,” You replied.
“Oh, fuck no,” Sevika coughed through a lungful of smoke, crushing falling embers beneath her foot. “I don’t like kids. Never had them, never wanted them.”
The answer didn’t surprise you. As you finished sliding the last table out of the way, you said, “I still haven’t made up my mind.”
“You should have stayed topside, then. This place is unforgiving, especially to the younger ones,” Sevika said. “People who choose to have kids down here are crazy, in my opinion.”
“I…suppose you're right,” You chewed on the inside of your mouth, eyes flickering up to the staircase. You could see him , watching.. Hidden somewhat in the shadows, but his glowing eye and glowing cigar gave away his position. You said softly, “Seems like people just adopt strays.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“I’m not a stray, and Silco didn’t…he didn’t take me in.”
“Hm ,” Sevika’s hum was a clear indication that she didn’t believe you. She lazily twirled her cigar for a few moments, before saying, “I question a lot of Silco’s decisions, but I’ve stood by him for this long and I’m not going to quit anytime soon. For your sake, I hope you know what you’re doing down here.”
“I came down here to start anew. I don’t know where that road is going to take me.”
“Seems like it’s taken you straight to him,” Sevika jerked a thumb upward, and your eyes followed. Silco had stepped into the light, and you could see him beckoning for you to come up. Sevika remained motionless as you walked past her. Your legs felt oddly heavy as you ascended the staircase.
“You’ll have to postpone today’s lesson,” Silco’s voice was smooth. “I’ve sent Jinx out on an assignment.”
You raised your eyebrows. When Silco simply looked at you, you stepped forward as he faced you fully - his hands seemed naked without a cigar.
“You…you sent her on a mission? I haven’t finished training her!”
“She’s more than capable of handling herself,” Silco said dismissively. “I allowed you to push her, and now, we’ll see the result of that.”
“You…you…” You stammered. You could have sworn that you saw Silco smile - you wanted to slap him. This was payback. If Jinx showed up dead, your head would be on a pike. If she showed up alive with someone else’s head - it was a win for Silco, nonetheless.
“It was time,” Silco lowered his voice. You saw his good eye lazily drift down to the empty club floor. “I can’t keep her from the field. She’s a fierce girl. She’ll show back up with her bounty.”
“And what if she doesn’t?”
“She will.”
Silco was so sure . You wondered if he’d ever pondered the possibility that Jinx wouldn’t walk through the doors of The Last Drop , if it had ever crossed his brilliant mind. The girl was a firecracker, sure. But she was still small and gangly, with big eyes and a chipper voice. The thought of her killing someone was so out of bounds for you, even though you’d seen it beneath the surface.
Every punch, every blow. Every scream. There was something bubbling behind those big eyes that scared you.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” You murmured.
“I always do.”
~~~
Jinx returned eight hours later.
She didn’t saunter through the doors of The Last Drop , like you’d imagined. Instead, you awoke to the unmistakable creak of your floorboard. In the darkness, you could see her silhouette move, and then sit in the corner of your room.
“Jinx?”
You reached up and flicked on your lamp. Yellow light flooded your room, but Jinx’s small figure remained relatively concealed, bunched up in the corner. You slid out of bed and padded, barefoot, towards the girl. The closer you got, the easier you were able to see her in the dim light - she looked wrecked.
Her clothes were streaked with dirt and what looked to be blood. Her face was covered in soot and ash, and you could see lines of pale skin from her tear duct to her jaw. Her eyes were red, and she sat with her knees hugged to her chest.
“Jinx,” You said again, softer this time. You knelt down, raising a hand. You hesitated, not sure whether or not it was a good idea to touch her.
“I did it.”
She was smiling .
“I..I see,” You let out the breath you’d been holding. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m okay,” Jinx slowly unfurled, stretching her long limbs. There was more blood on her pants and shoes. “I just…didn’t feel like going home. I wanted to see you.”
“Silco will be worried about you.”
Jinx shrugged. “He told me to take my time, that it wasn’t a big deal if I didn’t feel comfortable doing it. I wanted to, though. Your training helped me.”
Relief flooded your veins. She’d gotten something out of your teachings, and would hopefully continue to do so.
“Can I ask…who was it he sent you to target?”
“I dunno. Just some guys messing with our Shimmer factories. I didn’t stay long enough to ask them,” Jinx giggled. “They all went ‘ boom ’.”
You let out a breath. It was preferable that she found comedy in the whole thing. Or, maybe, a bit concerning. You weren’t sure. It wasn’t uncommon for kids to witness violence, down here, yet very few walked away with such chipper attitudes towards the whole thing.
“Thank you for coming to see me, Jinx.”
“Were you...worried about me, too?” Jinx tilted her head to the side, staring at you quizzically.
“Of course. You’re my student. Silco didn’t tell me until after you’d left - I would have shown you a couple more tricks, if I’d known,” You laughed, and the girl joined in on your mirth. “I’m proud of you.”
You yelped in surprise as the girl practically flung her arms around you. Her hug was tight and needy - you returned it tentatively, your limbs shaking as you stroked the top of her head. It took you a moment to realize the sniffs, the tears, were not coming from you, but from Jinx.
How neglected had this girl been? How often did she hear those words - from your interpretations of her relationship with Silco, you didn’t doubt that it was rather often. Still, you could only wonder if the hole in Jinx’s psyche went deeper than you’d previously believed.
“Hey, it’s okay,” You stammered. “Don’t cry. Let’s get you home .”
Summary: Silco sends Jinx on a mission to kill you. It doesn’t go as planned.
Warnings: None for this chapter.
Word count: 1.8k
Main Blog @vizhi0n / AO3
“Strike! No, harder!”
Jinx’s hands were dainty, but her hits were precise and calculated. You were impressed - the girl fought with the same fire as before, when she’d first entered your apartment. Your first week with Jinx was coming to a close, and you could already see improvement in her form, her hits, and her overall stamina. She was smart, and seemed to retain all of the information you’d throw at her.
If she tamed her ferocity, she’d be unstoppable.
The girl was panting, now, pale skin flushed pink as she doubled over and placed both hands on her knees. Her shirt was drenched in sweat, the fabric clinging to her skin. You towered over her, slightly out of breath but faring much better. The Last Drop was empty, and wouldn’t open for several more hours - tables and chairs had been pushed aside to make room for your little training ring. You’d been sparring for almost an hour, stopping the fight occasionally to offer Jinx words of advice.
“Go sit down for a bit,” You waved a hand. The girl groaned and seemed to drag herself over to one of the chairs, slouching into it like a limp noodle. You chuckled, and decided to head over to the bar for a drink of water. As you ducked behind the counter, a shadow passed over you from above, and you heard the creak of the wooden staircase.
When you lifted your head back up, Silco was leaning against the bar. His good eye lazily dragged across your form before snapping up to your face.
“Need something?” You took a swig of water, keeping your gaze on Silco.
“Is Jinx making…good progress?”
You nodded. Silco’s shoulders seemed to relax a bit, and he stepped a bit closer to you. While your interactions were normally brief, each one had chipped away at the hostility between the two of you. While you doubted Silco would entrust you with his secrets, it was nice to feel as if you weren’t constantly being scrutinized by mismatched eyes.
You took a moment to observe him. The first thing you noticed were his hands - the knuckles were bruised, freshly, and his nails were chipped a bit. He had them clasped together, the pads of his fingers methodically massaging the purpled skin.
You spoke without thinking, your words tumbling out.
“What happened?”
Silco’s brows furrowed, before a smile stretched across his angular face.
“This? Ah, well, a now former employee of mine thought it smart to try and steal from me,” Silco seemed almost pleased, in a cute, boyish way, that you’d inquired about his injuries. “He’s learnt his lesson.”
You slowly pushed away from the bar, taking one last swig of water before looking over to Jinx. Her legs were splayed out in front of her, her head tilted back as she stared up at the ceiling in exaggerated boredom. You smiled, glancing back over at Silco.
“She’s a good kid.”
Silco hummed. You saw his good eye, a beautiful green-blue, swivel to look at you. He said, “She is.”
“Is she…” You didn’t know how to ask the question. Genetics were tricky, and Jinx was too young for you to feel as if she’d really come into her looks, yet. Her mannerisms were like Silco’s. She spoke, sometimes, like Silco. You finished your thought cringing. “Is she yours?”
“No,” Silco answered. “I have no children.”
The response was simple, yet weirdly solemn. Silco stood, and you watched as he walked over and leaned close. He smelled of cigars and the faintest hint of citrus.
“Go a bit easier on her. For me,” It wasn’t a request. You could tell by the way his eyes seemed to narrow, and his shoulders went slack. He was luring you in, giving you a false sense of security. Your time as an Enforcer had taught you to read such tactics.
“She won’t learn if I don’t hit her back,” You kept your tone neutral. “I’m training her the way the academy trained me.”
“I asked you to teach her the basics, things she’d need in order to defend herself,” Silco growled. “You’re overstepping your bounds, here.”
“I’m not overstepping anything,” You couldn’t look at him. You’d break if you looked at him, now - his glare was like a laser into your skin. “You asked me to train her, so I am.”
Silco pursed his lips. It was the first time you’d rendered him speechless, and you found the strength to search his cold expression for any indication that you’d gone too far. When that icy look didn’t waver, you tilted your chin up, looked him dead in the eye, and reaffirmed your position.
“I’ll make sure she can defend herself. My training has a purpose, always. You have to trust me.”
Silco reared back as if he’d been slapped. He bared chipped teeth, nostrils flaring as he looked you up and down. Then, his face seemed to soften - it wasn’t outright submission, but a subtle implication that he found humor in your response.
“Trust you?” Silco purred. “You’ll have to give that time.”
“I could say the same thing to you. For all I know, you could be planning to kill me after I complete Jinx’s training.”
Silco huffed. “I’m still pondering it. The outcome of Jinx’s training might determine what I decide to do with you.”
While his words made sense, there was something underneath it that you couldn’t pinpoint. As he turned away, you saw him slide a cigar between his lips. He sauntered over to Jinx, long and lanky, yet strangely gracile, and spoke to her between puffs of smoke. Whatever they were discussing seemed to only interest one side, and you smiled as Silco became increasingly irritated with Jinx’s insolence. Yet, he never raised his voice, never stomped his foot. A scowl was all he could give her.
The resemblance was uncanny.
You had been in Jinx’s place, once. You could still recall Grayson’s scowl as she chastised you for not paying close enough attention to your protocol notes. You’d brushed it off, at the time, while Grayson had warned you of danger. She’d been right, of course. A week later, you’d received a punch to the side of the head after not handcuffing a suspect correctly. Grayson’s scowl had grown even bigger after she’d seen the bruise on your cheek.
You’d started paying attention to protocol notes after that.
~ ~ ~
Your limbs were sore, after. You envied the way Jinx could just…bound away from a session, a spring in her step, unbothered by the fact that she’d been tossed around like a ragdoll.
You, on the other hand…you felt it, deep in your bones. The aches from where she’d managed to hit you, the soreness in your knees and hips. You gathered your things and headed out the back door, hoping to slip away before the club became too rowdy. The second the back door swung shut, you shuddered - you weren’t alone. Your senses went on high alert and you spun, wincing at the spring of pain in your left calf -
It was Silco. He had a rather empty expression on his face, the usual mask he put on.
“Why did you decide to leave the force?”
Your fists tightened around the straps of your bag. You slung it across your shoulder, letting out a sigh.
“Ah, so now you’re interested in the backstory.”
“It’s common courtesy to get to know the people you employ.”
“I’m not your employee, and you’re not my boss, remember? You’re my redeemer,” You threw the last word out like it was a curse. “The one who will erase my sins.”
You knew it tickled him, to be compared to a god. You wondered what he saw when he looked at you.
“I’ve always played my role well. What is a god if not merciful, giving, and kind?”
“You’re none of those things.”
“You’re still alive, aren’t you?”
“I’m alive because I’ve kept myself alive. You should be able to relate to that,” You gestured towards your own eye that mirrored Silco’s mutilated one. If the gesture angered him, he didn’t show it - only a slight part of the lips acted as a response, so you chose to press forward. “What, was what happened to your eye punishment for your sins? Was your god not merciful enough to allow you to live unblemished?”
“I killed my god,” Silco said nonchalantly, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. He took your stunned silence and basked in it. Then, he asked again, “Why did you decide to leave the force?”
“I..It was a…”
“Speak up.”
You hadn’t realized that you’d been whispering. Any lie you tried to pass off as the truth, he’d detect. Telling the truth, however, meant revisiting a memory that you’d locked away into the recesses of your mind. Whenever you’d try and toss away the key, it would show back up at your doorstep.
You didn’t owe someone like Silco the truth, yet you felt compelled to tell him.
“Do you fear that I’d judge you?” Silco’s tone was light, and you heard the scraping of cloth against stone as he pushed off the alley wall and came to stand closer to you.
“You’ve already judged me.”
“Like I said, merciful. Giving. Kind,” Silco murmured. He was close, again, just like earlier in the bar. Something inside you stirred and you shoved it down.
“What was your reason for your departure?”
“Some man…some other Enforcer…he was a sleaze. He liked coming down into the Undercity to visit the brothels,” You rolled your shoulders. “He, uh, he…he abused his power a lot. Everyone knew. Nobody said a word. I was his partner on a case down here, and I guess he thought the brothels weren’t enough.”
Silco hadn’t said a word. There was a tightness in his jaw that hadn’t been there before.
“He was the son of a council member, so they protected him. I wasn’t the only person he’d assaulted,” You swallowed. “I don’t know what strings they pulled but Grayson had her hands tied. He was punished, but he wasn’t expelled. It never made it into the papers, either. I turned in my resignation a month after.”
“He’s still on the force?”
“Probably. I haven’t checked in on it,” You mumbled. “Grayson was my only contact. She’s dead.”
Silco sighed. You saw him hastily reach for a cigar, and you could have sworn that you saw a tremble in his hand. Before he could light it, you said, “I deserve to be hated by the people down here, but I try not to let that stop me from doing what I think is right. It’s a mess up top.”
“We’ve all known,” Silco said softly. He let the cigar linger in front of his lips for a bit, gnawing on his tongue. Then, he said, “Perhaps a place will carve itself out for you here.”
“We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess,” You turned, and Silco let you go. As you began walking, you glanced over your shoulder. He’d gone back to leaning against the brick alley wall, his frame illuminated by the lights.
Summary: Silco sends Jinx on a mission to kill you. It doesn’t go as planned.
Warnings: None for this chapter.
Word count: 2k
Main Blog @vizhi0n / AO3
You’d only been to The Last Drop twice before. The first time, you’d visited and sat in the corner, keeping to yourself while you observed the ebb and flow of customers. The second time, you’d made the decision to try and become a social butterfly and interact with the local residents. It had resulted in one or two many shots of hard bourbon, and you’d found yourself brawling with a creepster who you’d seen roofying some poor girl’s drink. You’d decided not to return, after that incident.
Until now.
Jinx kept a firm hand on your back as she led you behind the club. Even as you slipped through the back entrance, you could feel the pulse of the music. The clink of glass and laughter filled your ears. The club was alive with life, but Jinx gave you no time to soak in the scene before she was pushing you in the direction of the stairs.
“Up, up, up,” Jinx giggled. You ducked your head in humiliation and let the girl lead you up the steps and into the hall. The music became a dull thrum, and you could hear sounds from the very last door - someone was speaking loudly, though the words were muffled.
Jinx let out a breath as you both approached. Then, before you could protest, she unceremoniously swung open the door and pushed you inside.
“Ta-da!”
The exclamation was loud and filled with enthusiasm. Jinx leaped forward and spread her arms, as if she were presenting you as some grand holiday gift. You dared lift your head, surveying the room - it was an office, nicely furnished. A stained glass window allowed for an almost sickly green light to filter through from the outside.
The desk was the centerpiece. Sitting at it, with a cigar clutched between two fingers, was someone you’d never wanted to cross paths with.
“You were supposed to kill her, Jinx.”
Your blood ran cold. The half-hour you’d spent internally practicing the monologue you’d planned seemed like a colossal waste of time. The man sitting before you had an expert tongue and expert intuition. You’d always suspected that was how he’d kept himself alive for so long.
You were so dead.
Your eyes fell on the woman perched on the edge of the couch. She had a poncho thrown over her, but even seated, you could tell that she was a tank of a woman. Her lips morphed into a scowl at the sight of you, but she kept silent.
“Look at me,” Silco’s voice was far too casual, yet you obeyed. One good eye narrowed while the other swam with something else, something alive. Like drops of orange blood in black water. He raised his cigar to his lips and leaned back in his chair, saying, “Perhaps this is for the better. I’m a gracious man - you deserve to say your piece.”
“There isn’t much for me to say. You sent a kid to kill me, and I don’t know why.”
“You know why,” The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Silco had yet to take a drag of his cigar, and was instead staring at you with one eyebrow raised. When you didn’t answer, he continued in a tone one would use when addressing a small child. “The Lanes aren't as big as you think they are. People talk, and word always gets back to the man in charge.”
“Whatever it is you think I’m doing…it’s not…it’s not what you think. I’m just trying to live. Trying to put all of that behind me…”
Silco’s good eye flickered to Jinx, who was fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Their exchange was wordless - he gave a small jut of the chin, and the girl scurried away. Then, he settled his gaze back on you. While you didn’t consider yourself out of practice, it had been a while since you’d had to stand firm under the scrutinous gaze of another, more powerful individual. It was making you sweat. Making you anxious.
Anxiety meant slip-ups, and you suddenly realized that he’d managed to pull a confession from you without even asking a question.
“You’re an Enforcer,” the burly woman suddenly said. She leaped to her feet, to her full height, but you refused to cower beneath her. “What the hell are you doing in Zaun?”
“Former Enforcer,” You snapped. “I don’t live that life anymore and I never will.”
Silco hummed. He finally slid the cigar between his teeth, keeping his gaze on you as he blew a nice string of smoke. Then, he reached over and stamped it out with anger that didn’t match his facial expression.
“How can I be sure of that?”
“I asked Jinx to bring me here. I wanted to see you for myself,” You omitted the part about wanting to spit on him, for your own safety. “I could have killed her, you know? She’s sloppy and inexperienced.”
“It was her first mission,” Silco said.
“You should have picked someone else. I don’t do force work, and I wouldn’t sell out the people down here to anyone. This place is my…home, now.”
The room fell silent. Silco rapped his nails against his desk, and the burly woman was still staring you down with a glare that could melt metal.
“Sevika, leave us.”
“But-”
“Leave.”
The woman whipped around so fast that her poncho smacked you in the arm. She let the door slam behind her, and for a split second you wished she hadn’t left - you didn’t want to be alone, tied up, with The Eye of Zaun. The Industrialist. The man who was probably about to put a bullet through your head and call it a day.
To your surprise, no gun was drawn. Instead, he stood and rounded his desk. You instinctively backed up as he stepped forward.
“You walk the streets aware of your sins, yet you have the nerve to call Zaun your home? What have you brought to these people but pain and suffering?” Silco spat the last two words. “If they knew who you really were, do you think they would allow you to live in peace?”
“If word got back to you, it means that some people must know. I’ve never hidden my past from anyone, and people have attacked me before,” You replied. “Most of them just don’t care. Maybe you haven’t walked through these streets that you helped create - everyone down here has done something in their past that they hate and regret.”
Silco’s eyes narrowed. Then, in a low voice, he said, “Why did you choose the Lanes as the destination of your…self-exile?”
You knew your answer wouldn’t satisfy Silco. In fact, you assumed it would make him even angrier. It was self-serving, and the highest form of mental self-flagellation you could come up with. You could have gone to Noxus. Somewhere far, far away from Piltover, where it would be easier to just forget. That would have been the sensible thing to do. Yet you’d settled in the undercity because…because…?
“I wanted…needed to see the faces of the people I terrorized for so many years. I needed to make myself face them,” Your lower lip quivered, and you clenched your jaw. You wouldn’t dare admit the real reason you’d decided to relocate to the undercity. Not in a million years. “Staying here made me have to do that, every day. I couldn’t escape it. I couldn’t run from it.”
To your surprise, a small smile tugged at the corners of Silco’s thin lips. He drawled, “A peculiar sort of hell, isn’t it? Having to face your transgressions every time you step foot outside your door.”
You didn’t reply, and his face darkened. He waved a finger and you, and then reached over to grab another cigar.
“I could just kill you. That would end your suffering.”
Silco leaned against his desk, one leg crossed over the other. He clipped the cigar and lit it, staring at you with hooded eyes. It was the first time throughout the entire conversation that you felt paralyzed. His movements were too languid, too slow, as if he had all the time in the world. When his foot began to rhythmically tap against the hardwood, you realized what he was doing.
Terror crept up your spine.
He was thinking. Contemplating on whether or not to shoot you. Strangle you, maybe? He was most likely going through different methods in his head. Your hands were still restrained, so you wouldn’t be able to fight him off effectively. It would be simple, quick, and easy.
It seemed like forever when he stopped tapping his foot and pushed off his desk, reaching over to snuff out his cigar. As he moved around to his chair, you braced yourself to hear the click of a gun and to feel the bullet tearing through your -
“Jinx was impressed with how you fought. You haven’t lost your edge, it seems.”
Nothing. No bullet. You almost didn’t register his statement, blinking stupidly as tension seeped from your shoulders.
“Zaun is your purgatory,” Silco eased down into his chair, letting out a soft sigh as he relaxed into the cushioned seat. “You came here because you wanted to die. So much self-loathing in such a small frame - you couldn’t bear the weight of your sins, so you settled down here to wait for someone to give you what you feel you deserve.”
Your skin felt hot. You exhaled through your nostrils, glaring at Silco with as much heat as you could muster. He seemed unfazed.
“Oh, you know I’m right,” He purred. “Or was there another reason why you had Jinx parade you into my office like a common show dog?”
“Like I said, I wanted to face you.”
“And facing me, you are,” Silco spread his arms out wide. “I refuse to give you what you truly want. Now that I’m letting you off your leash, what will you do?”
He’d caught you. He’d pulled what you’d always known from the depths of your soul. You wondered how many others had stumbled into this trap, how many people had given away parts of themselves to this ancient waif. You were going to walk out of this room alive, but a piece of you belonged to Silco, now. That knowledge alone was torture.
So, you decided to double back and go along with your original plan - pieces of the sad monologue you’d rehearsed. In retrospect, it was pathetic, but at least it was something. You’d considered berating him, screaming and yelling at him for sending a child to try and kill you as part of her training. Now, you were starting to realize that he’d probably done much, much worse. Whatever you said would fall on deaf ears.
“I’m a former Enforcer with combat skill and knowledge of the inner workings of Piltover,” You said firmly. “I can be of use…to your vision. Let me fight for you, and in return, you…keep me safe. Keep me from getting what it is I apparently want.”
“I have plenty of men for that,” Silco snorted. He seemed disinterested in your overall offer.
“I…I don’t know what else…”
Silco leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. He growled, “Convince me to allow for your redemption. I won’t ask again.”
“Let me train Jinx!” You blurted. “I could have killed her, but I didn’t! Let me train her in hand-to-hand and weapons work.”
You hadn’t noticed it before, but one of Silco’s eyebrows was mangled. When he raised it, only one end seemed to move. It was a minor detail that, for some reason, you couldn't stop fixating on. It made him seem more human. Less frightening.
“Hm. A novel idea.”
“She needs work,” You sighed. “She has potential, she just needs to smooth some things out.”
“You’ll teach her how to protect herself?”
“Better than whoever is teaching her now,” You rolled your shoulders. “Please.”
Another smile, this one much less subtle than before. It infuriated you. It infuriated you how you were having to beg, beg to be in his service. It infuriated you, how he was enjoying it. However, beneath that anger, there was something else simmering. Admiration, perhaps? Respect? You didn’t know, and you didn’t wish to explore the sentiments until you were no longer emotionally and physically compromised.
That damn smile returned. Lopsided, cheeky. You wondered what he’d been like as a boy.
Warnings: None for this chapter, save for violence. Will be NSFW in a few chapters.
Word count: 1k
Summary: Silco sends Jinx on a mission to kill you. It doesn’t go as planned.
Main Blog @vizhi0n / AO3
The girl came to you in the evening.
You’d just finished cleaning the table - your dinner had been light. Stir fried, canned vegetables and some fish you’d managed to snag from a nice little market topside. Your apartment was small enough that, whenever you cooked, the smell lingered and seemed to do so well into the night. You didn’t mind. It was a small price to pay for a roof over your head, something of the utmost importance if one was to survive in the Lanes.
Once the kitchen was clean, you’d slipped on your nightclothes. It was then that you noticed the window in your bedroom - if you could even call such a small space a bedroom - was slightly open. The curtains had been haphazardly tugged back into place, as if someone had been in a rush to conceal the small sliver of space.
You immediately froze, mid-stride. Head slightly tilted, weight shifting over onto your dominant foot as you prepared your body to dodge an attack. You remained motionless for what seemed like an eternity, until the slight creak of the floorboard gave you a clear idea of where your intruder would be coming from.
The closet. She came from the closet, choosing to leap forward before she fired her gun - the mistake, along with the fact that she’d given her position away, allowed you to throw yourself to the side as soon as she pulled the trigger. The bullet splinted the wood of your wall, and you landed, thankfully, on your plush bed. The mattress acted as a springboard, and you jumped back to your feet and threw yourself at the girl.
She had blue hair. Blue hair and pale skin, a splash of freckles across her nose. She couldn’t have been older than thirteen or fourteen, and part of you felt bad when you kneed her in the gut and jerked her gun from her hand. Before she could double over, you secured a hand around her throat and slammed her against the wall.
“Who are you?”
It had been years since you’d used the same voice you summoned whenever you were sent to the Lanes to sniff out…undesirables. Thinking of the phrase made your blood run cold - you’d arrested girls like this. Young. Stupid. You’d spoken to them in the same, animalistic snarl that Grayson had called “the sound of the beast.”
Your grip on the girl’s throat tightened. You’d been so caught up in your memory that you’d forgotten to watch yourself - she reared her head back and slammed her forehead against yours. You saw stars, and she managed to slip from your grip and barrel down the hallway. She didn’t have far to go - the size of your apartment made it easy for her to reach the front door before you could recover.
Then, she was gone. She left the door open. A breeze was coming from the window.
You glanced over your shoulder at the wall. Her bullet had carved out a nice chunk of wood, but it hadn’t hit anything major. You wouldn’t have to put in a work order for it, you decided. It wasn’t like your ever landlord came to visit, either.
Sighing, you pressed a hand against your forehead. A nice, throbbing bruise was beginning to form that would probably inhibit your sleep. It wasn’t the first time you’d been roughed up, and it certainly wasn’t the first time you’d roughed up another person, but that treatment was usually reserved for more…experienced folk. The fact that this girl had been so…young - it bothered you. She’d been dressed fairly…well, too. Not a street beggar or a pickpocket.
You looked down at the discarded pistol lying on your floor. You reached down and picked up the heavy weapon, running your fingers over the handle. It was well crafted. Expensive. Nothing someone of her age could have afforded, yet somehow, it had ended up in her hands. You frowned.
Expensive. There were few people in the Lanes who could afford such…luxurious firearms.
You decided to sleep with the gun next to your bedside table, and you decided to let the window remain slightly ajar - it helped filter out the smell of your fish dinner.
~~~~~~~~
The girl came to you again. This time she decided to enter through the living room window while you were pretending to be asleep - she’d stepped on another loose floorboard, which you’d strategically tampered with for this specific reason. The noise had awoken you, and you’d slipped from your bed before she could enter your room and skewer you in your sleep.
“Cut the shit and tell me who you are.”
The girl screamed. The noise echoed through your apartment, but you remained leaning against the small space next to your door. You’d watched in near darkness as she’d crept past you, scanning your bed for any signs of life. You’d spoken only after growing bored with her confusion.
She didn’t attack this time. In fact, she looked embarrassed. You switched on the light and got your first good, long look at her.
Yep, the hair was definitely blue. The skin was an ashy pale color. Her face was dainty and round and she had big eyes.
Embarrassment quickly morphed into haughtiness. She held out her knife, waving it around. You didn’t know whether to find the gesture threatening, or cute.
“I was coming to…get my gun back.”
“That’s a lie.”
“It’s the truth!” she seemed almost offended at being accused of bluffing. “That’s a nice gun! You saw it, didn’t you? Probably. You kept it.”
She gestured to the discarded weapon at your bedside table. You raised an eyebrow, sidestepping her and rubbing sleep from your eye. It was far too late in the night for this.
“If you want it back, you’ll have to come and get it,” You plucked the gun from the table. The girl’s eyes followed it, lips pulling into a taut line. “Or, you can tell me the truth and I’ll give it to you freely. Fair trade?”
“Like I’d tell you anything.”
“No trade, then.”
“That gun was a gift.”
“You should learn, then, not to lose gifts,” You reached around and slipped the gun into the back of your sleep pants. You patted it, letting the girl know just where it was. “Come and get it back.”
You could tell she wasn’t fully committed. She moved slower than the last time, and you could see her eyes flit around as she attempted to search for an opening. You gave her none, and easily sidestepped the jab of her knife.
“Sloppy,” You grunted. The girl bared her teeth, slashing at you again. She managed to cut a small piece from your sleep shirt, but nothing too serious. The dance continued. Your room was nearly trashed by the end of it, but even as you swerved and ducked, sidestepped and parried, the gun never wound up in the hands of your attacker. You’d caught her, a few times, trying to slip around - she was awarded a firm slap to the side of her face, not hard enough to send her down, but hard enough to act as a warning.
She was a ferocious little thing, with a bit of home training. Her movements were confident, if not a little bit erratic. She had speed and agility. For the dozenth time that night, you wondered just who had sent her, and who had trained her.
Finally, you ended it. Disarming her was simple, and you sent the knife sliding across the hardwood.
The girl stared at you, wide-eyed and weaponless.
“Now,” You reached around and grabbed the gun, holding it back up in front of you. “I just need a name. Who sent you?”
Her face fell. She stepped back across a creaky floorboard and mumbled, “Can’t tell you.”
“Why not? Will someone harm you if you do?”
“No. I’ve botched it already. He’ll be mad at me,” the girl shook her head, “I…I just came to get the gun. I’m not supposed to even be here.”
He’ll be mad at me.
So it was a he. You pursed your lips and stared down at the girl, contemplating your next move. Killing her wasn’t an option, and it seemed getting her to tell you the whole truth wasn’t going to work, either.
You needed a new plan.
“Whoever sent you wants me dead,” You conclude. “What if you brought me to them alive, huh?”
“W-what do you mean?”
“Tie my hands up and march me to whoever it is that sent a child on an assassination run,” You replied sternly. “I want to speak with them.”
“So…I won?” Her voice was soft, almost timid.
“Yeah. You won, kid. Congratulations. You’ve got me.”
She giggled, but it wasn’t a cutsey, kid giggle. It was disjointed and a bit…unhinged, like she hadn’t figured out the sound. She waltzed to you, extending her hand. “My gift?”
You rolled your eyes. Unbeknownst to her, you’d slipped the bullets out several nights ago. It wasn’t loaded. Still, something prompted you to hesitate.
“Since we’ve gotten to know each other a bit better, I still think it’s fair that I get to know your name,” You said. “I deserve that one little victory, don’t you think?”
“You did slap me pretty hard…”
“Deserved. You tried to kill me last time.”
The girl shrugged. She reached over and snatched the gun from your hand, running her fingers over the engravings. Then, she holstered it at her hip and began to work on trying your hands behind your back.
You couldn’t believe this.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
It didn’t matter. If the girl returned empty handed, they - he - would just send someone else, someone stronger. You didn’t have the funds to move. This little apartment was your forever home, and you paid rent each month knowing the room you slept in was home to your potential deathbed.
“My name is Jinx, by the way,” the girl said, and she flashed you a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
At least this way, you’d be able to spit on the bastard before he killed you.
Tags: Silco x Fem!Reader | Slow Burn | Tension | Romance | Drama | Cocky Bartender Reader | Humour | Eventual Smut | Found Family | Angst | Hurt/Comfort
FIC MASTERLIST🥃
CHAPTER 13
SLIDE - shake your bones out if you wanna
RIDE - throw your head back make you feel
ALIVE - the kinda bad that make you feel good
GOD - the kind of wrong that make you feel
RIGHT - the little death that make you feel
ALIVE - the kinda shouldn’t that mean that you should
Dirty Little Animals
The oven-fresh warmth of the Sugar Bread permeates through the cardboard box in your hands, as does the sumptuous aroma of melted chocolate. The combination soothes your senses, and you hope it’ll also provide a comforting balm for the recipient of your peace offering.
You knock softly on the painted door, “Jinx? You home?”
An almost timid noise of confirmation sounds from the other side of the wood. You turn the handle and peek your head through the frame.
A blue head pokes out from beneath several layers of blankets on the bed, as does a pair of hands; brightening the gun-metal shell of a grenade with an acid green oil marker. She does look tired – paler than usual, with drawn features that don’t match her usual lively disposition. Her focus remains on her artwork, and the lack of eye-contact or greeting speaks volumes about how she’s feeling. The curl of her shoulders is telling of embarrassment, and the uncertainty in her eyes is clear, even if they aren’t raised in your direction.
“How you feeling?” You ask with an encouraging smile that goes unseen by the recipient.
The blankets shift with her shrug, “Tired I guess.”
“I bet. Your body is probably freaking out because you haven’t consumed your usual daily sugar intake,” you offer wisely as you make your way over, “Lucky for you, I come bearing gifts.”
Her eyes flick briefly to the container in your hands and then down again, “Thanks,” she mumbles, “but I’m not so hungry.”
You scoff and kick off your boots, “Who said it was all for you? Budge over,” you pull back the covers and slip into the bed beside her, propping yourself up on the small mountain of pillows. Jinx straightens too as she shifts to accommodate you, and she does finally look at you now – with an expression that’s painfully open and full of confusion.
“I schmoozed the vendor for extra chocolate sauce. I think he even threw in some chopped nuts for free—”
“Why are you being nice to me?”
It’s such a simple question, and the raw sincerity with which it’s asked has your heart squeezing inside your chest.
“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”
“Because I ruined everything. Just like I always do,” her last sentence is mumbled back toward her lap.
Despite the layers of blankets, her hand is cool to the touch, “You didn’t ruin anything, I promise you that,” you punctuate your point with a reassuring squeeze of her fingers, “It was an accident, just like you said, and it was really shitty and unfair of me to take out my frustration on you. I’m sorry, Jinx. I really am. Can you forgive me?”
Her eyes are devastatingly round, “Forgive… you?”
You nod, “Mhm.”
Her head bobs slowly, jerkily, as though she still doesn’t quite understand what she’s agreeing to, “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
You loop your arm around her narrow shoulders, and pull her into a crushing side-ways hug, and after a moment’s hesitation she hugs you back; tight enough to make you glad you hadn’t eaten any of the Sugar Bread on your way over.
“I didn’t think you’d want to be my friend anymore,” her words are muffled by the collar of your shirt, “Not after you saw me all… weird.”
“You don’t quit on the people you care about just ‘cause things get weird or tough,” you give her a gentle, reassuring shake to emphasise your point, “And you’re one of the people I care most about in the world.”
“Really?”
“Really really.”
She breaks the hug in order to blink at you with entirely too much painful hope. You offer her the exact same words you’d once offered her father. A simple truth, spoken by a waters edge far above where you currently sit.
“I like you just the way you are.”
Like a flipped switch, her eyes become as dazzling as her smile, and it’s simply impossible for you not to reciprocate.
You flip open the lid of the box, and you’re extremely pleased when Jinx doesn’t hesitate to ditch her grenade and tuck right in. You watch her shovel a large piece of scrappy dough into her mouth, leaving behind a string of chocolate on her chin which she quickly hoovers up with her thumb.
But there’s still an elephant in the room that needs to be addressed, and you can tell by her furtive, side-long glances that she’s working very hard to hold her tongue. You can’t see anyway in which this conversation isn’t going to be at least somewhat awkward, so you decide to just dive in.
“So. Me and your dad—”
“I knew it! I’ve known it for ages. How long has this been going on? Why didn’t you tell me? Have you made up yet? Does this mean you’re moving in? Are you going to be together now?”
You flinch at the shower of crumbs and sugar granules that she sprays with each garbled question.
“Okay wow, um,” you sort through her questions as you brush away the debris of their delivery from your shirt, “Not long, that was the first time we, uh, kissed. Which is also why I didn’t tell you – ‘cause you know, I was a little busy. Yes, we’ve made up. No, I’m not moving in. And I don’t know… we haven’t talked about it yet.”
“I thought you said you made up? Didn’t you talk about it then?”
There wasn’t much time for talking, your brain supplies. Somehow, you don’t think Jinx will appreciate the sentiment.
“Well, it’s still early days,” you answer carefully, “and it’s a big conversation to have. For now we’re just… spending time together.”
She rolls her eyes as though you’re being purposefully obtuse, “Like you haven’t been spending time together already.”
“But it’s different now,” you insist, floundering slightly on your point. You don’t really know what to tell her. Truth is, you have no idea what Silco wants from you, and you’re not about to get into the topic of commitment versus casual sex with a fourteen year old. Especially when her father’s involved. It’s easy to forget with Jinx sometimes, given the burdens she bears and the responsibilities she already carries as part of Silco’s empire, that she’s really just a kid. Still too young to fully understand all the variables that accompany romantic relationships. That it isn’t always as simple as one-plus-one.
“But if he asked you to be his girlfriend, you would, right?”
You’re overtly aware of the naive hope which shines in her eyes; further emphasising the innocence of her question. But Gods, you may as well be Jinx’s age too for the giddy flutter in your chest. You’re not in the habit of lying to her, and the involuntary twist of your lips has likely already given you away regardless.
“Sure,” you chuckle, “I’d be his girlfriend if he asked me.”
Jinx beams, “In that case, I have something for you.”
She almost upends the Sugar Bread box as she dives over your lap towards her rickety bedside cabinet. But you’re just about quick enough to save her blankets from a chocolatey fate, and you hold the container still as she rummages around one of the drawers. She pulls out a scrappy leather album which she opens across both your laps.
The first spread is a decorative title page, with alternating letters of pink and blue which read ‘My Family!’
She flicks through the pages, offering you glimpses of dozens and dozens of polaroids, stuck chaotically down with no apparent order. They’re mostly pictures of Silco, and he looks mildly vexed in nearly every single one. Likely because it appears Jinx’s favourite photographic subject seems to be the unwitting kind. Among various snaps of Silco squinting up from his desk at the bright flash of the camera, you also spot Sevika – with her face half blocked by a blurred metal hand. Jasper – behind the bar and scowling mid-blink. Max – offensively photogenic as he spins towards the lens in surprise. You even see Vill – staring vacantly into the middle distance at the bottom of the stairwell, clearly completely unaware he’s even having his photo taken.
Jinx finds what she’s looking for; pausing on a spread towards the middle of the album and pointing out a picture with one pink nail, “Here!”
And your throat constricts; fast and tight.
You’ve never seen the photo, though you remember it being taken the night you’d been tricked into dinner. It’s a little haphazard, given that Jinx was at once attempting to operate the camera while also being in the photo itself. But squashed close together, within the small square border, are three faces. Jinx in the middle, with her tongue stuck out. You on her right, also flashing the lens a lovely view of your taste buds. And Silco on her left, side-eyeing the both of you with thinly-veiled disapproval.
And we were kinda like a little family, right?
You truly thought Jinx had spoken those words in her workshop as an act of cunning – to cleverly exploit what she’d clearly guessed as one of your weaknesses. But it seems she’d truly meant it. You hold a place in her family album.
She sees you as her family.
And hadn’t you secretly imagined yourself to be part of their odd little family too that night? Just for a selfish moment. Seems you needn’t have pretended at all.
“You should have it,” Jinx insists, slipping her nail beneath the corner to peel it from the page.
“No,” you quickly still her hand with yours, “No… I like it better here. It belongs in this album.”
You remember the dream you’d shared with Silco – the hope that you’d one day find somewhere to belong unconditionally.
Perhaps the culmination of that wish is displayed too openly on your face, because Jinx requests no elaboration from you. Only offers a heartfelt, sunny smile which crinkles the corners of her eyes. You both drop your gaze back to the album at the same time.
Your attention slides to a photo of Silco spinning irately around from the full length mirror in his bedroom – tie unknotted around his collar and shirt only half buttoned.
This is my first Arcane fic and my first fic that I’ve posted in a...while? Binged Arcane and now I’m obsessed because of course I am - this is just a short little idea that I thought of the other day, and slightly inspired by my own chronic pain (yay for nerve damage!) Also, I very rarely, if ever, writing in second person, so hopefully I didn’t do a poor job. This is basically just pure fluff. Anyway, enjoy!
~~~~~~
It always started as a slight tenderness, a soreness that didn’t seem to dissipate, even when Silco rolled over onto his back. The heaviness of sleep would keep the sensation at bay for a while, but it would always crawl back up to the surface like an ant. Unrelenting. Uncomfortable enough that he’d snap his good eye open and let out a shuddering breath, keeping it soft enough so not to wake the figure next to him.
Tonight, you were sprawled across the bed with one arm thrown across Silco’s chest. He gingerly lifted the appendage, gently moving it to the side. The only response he received was a soft hum from you, and the noise brought a small smile to his lips - it was fleeting, for a moment later, raw pain seemed to erupt from every pore of his scarred facial tissue. His teeth clamped down on his pillow - an action he’d hammered into his psyche, as he’d once reflexively and unintentionally bitten a chunk out of his own tongue - and he felt his limbs tense. He had to just ride it out. The pain would go away. His injection wouldn’t help. This was only temporary -
A soft groan worked its way from the depths of his stomach and into the pillow, the sound muffled by the soft fabric. His fingers and toes flexed on their own accord, as if the movements would somehow distract his mind from the tortuous pinpricks of fire circling his wounded eye. It throbbed in tune with his heartbeat, drowning out the noise of the small portable fan you liked to keep in the corner of the room. It would go away. It had to go away. The pain had to go away.
Another sound was pulled from him, this time a strangled gasp. You stirred, but remained asleep. Silco’s jaw was aching from how hard his chipped teeth were latched around the pillow. Tears leaked from both eyes, dotting the sheets with damp pearls. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the pain began to ebb away. His muscles uncoiled, and he felt the tension seep from his body. Shoulders first, and then hands, feet, legs. He let the pillow fall from his lips and immediately began working his jaw. It would be sore tomorrow, he mused.
Throughout the entire spasm, you’d remained asleep. Save for the rise and fall of your chest and the occasional moan, you looked ready for the crypt. Silco resisted the urge to reach out and touch you, instead opting to slide from the bed. He knew he looked monstrous without even having to check the mirror - drenched in sweat, shaking, pale - but he struggled into the bathroom anyway, thin fingers gripping the edge of the sink. He took a moment, his nerves still on overdrive. It wasn’t until he felt…stable, that he mustered the energy to crawl back into bed. He’d probably stay awake the rest of the night, his body on high alert for the possible return of a flare-up. Settling his mind would be an immense task that he really, really wasn’t up for. He prided himself on his mental fortitude, but it seemed like every time he fought against his own brain, he lost.
In his absence, you’d rolled over and were facing his side of the bed. Your fist was loosely bunched up and resting in front of your face. Your eyes were active beneath closed lids.
Whatever dream you were having, Silco hoped that it was a good one.
``````````
You swirled the last bit of coffee around in your decorated blue and pink mug - courtesy of Jinx - watching it slosh against the sides. You’d eaten breakfast, but your stomach felt hollow. Your eyes kept darting to the stairs leading to Silco’s office. His own coffee mug sat, full, on the bar. His movements had been almost zombie-like - he’d kissed you on the cheek (ignoring an audible and exaggerated ‘ew’ from Jinx) before completely forgetting his cup and walking, as if in a drunken stupor, up the stairs and into his office.
“He’s not been sleeping,” You said. Jinx lifted her head from where she’d been resting it on the bar. “Did you see his expression? It was like…he was looking through us. Plus, he looks pale.”
“That’s just his face.”
“Paler than usual,” You nudged Jinx with your foot.
The teenager giggled, slipping from the barstool. She jabbed a finger in your direction and said, “You’re his partner. Plus, I don’t know how to deal with…lack of sleep, or whatever. I sleep just fine, when I’m not having nightmares.”
“Nightmares…” You glanced over at the abandoned coffee cup once more. It would get cold if he didn’t drink it soon, so you reached over and gripped it by the handle. “I’ll go talk to him.”
“Tell me how it goes!” Jinx said enthusiastically. The girl bounded from the room as you made your way slowly up the stairs, the wood creaking beneath the soles of your feet. You were careful, keeping one palm positioned in front of the steaming cup. You removed it only so you could knock lightly on the door to Silco’s office as a quick warning that you were about to enter. As you pushed the door forward, you caught a glimpse of him slipping his injector back into his desk drawer. A rivulet of sparkling purple was making its way from his tear duct.
“Here,” you placed the coffee cup down on his desk before reaching out to wipe the liquid away with your sleeve. The scarring around his eye was unconcealed. It seemed to stand out even more than usual due to the fact that the untarnished half of his face was uncharacteristically washed out. He moved sluggishly, his good eye flickering up to your face.
“Thank you,” the words were short, clipped. You raised an eyebrow, reaching over to pull a chair around. He stared at you, waiting for you to speak.
“Are you okay?”
Silco blinked, as if he hadn’t been expecting the question. After a long moment, he sighed and leaned back in his chair, resigning himself to expressing his exhaustion. It wasn’t like he could hide it from you, anyway. You slid closer, leaning against the arm of your own chair.
“I’ll be alright,” Silco managed a half-smile. “There’s no need for you to worry.”
“You’re not sleeping. I can tell. Is it nightmares?” You spoke softly.
To your surprise, Silco shook his head. He pointed to his mangled skin and eye. The gesture was enough - You clenched your teeth, saying, “Your infection is spreading?”
“Neuropathic pain,” Silco replied tiredly. “It’s decided to stick to a schedule, unfortunately. The injections are to stop the infection from claiming the last of my good flesh.”
“Oh, Silco,” You let out a breath. His head was tilted back, legs and arms slack. You feared that if he closed his eyes, he’d fall asleep right then and there in his office chair. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“It didn’t seem relevant. This isn’t something you can fix, and I didn’t wish to worry you.”
“I can talk to the doctor!” You exclaimed. “Singed and I are friendly! I…I’ll talk to him-”
“You don’t-”
“I’m talking to him. I’m sure he could make modifications to your medicine to help with the flare-ups.”
On any other day, Silco would have argued with you, but the fatigue won out. You were a fixer, and deep down, he knew you were right. His medication needed an upgrade. He reached out, long fingers curling over your own. His thumb stroked the tops of your knuckles, and he said sleepily, “You’re wonderful.”
“I just…I don’t like that you’re in pain. It bothers me,” You shifted in your seat. Silco rolled his chair closer, keeping a firm grip on your hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it softly.
“I’m no stranger to pain. You know this.”
“That’s not reassuring,” You snorted. Silco’s fingers shifted to interlace with yours. “Maybe Singed can add in some sort of painkiller. I don’t know. He’ll figure it out.”
“Indeed he will. While I find him…unsettling, at times, the doctor does deliver,” Silco said. He slumped back in his chair, and you chose that moment to stand and place a hand on his shoulder.
“You should sleep.”
“Impossible. Duty calls-”
“Even if it’s for thirty minutes, hop back into bed and sleep. Jinx is out doing her ‘chores’ and Sevika should be back from her patrol soon. She can cover while I go talk with Singed.”
Silco’s head lolled to the side. While his injured eye was wide, as always, his good eye was half-closed. You leaned down and pressed your lips to his, and you giggled when you felt him smile against your mouth. When you pulled away, he gave a tired, yet content, sigh.
“You take care of me. I hope you know…how much you’re appreciated,” Silco said softly. “How much I love you.”
You glanced down at him. He had a dreamy look in his eyes, as if he were already beginning to drift off to sleep. You hooked an arm under his and helped him stand. He leaned against you, and you felt him absently brush his lips across your temple.
“Love you, too,” You smiled. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Summary: Silco/f!reader Coffee Shop AU | A terrifying customer bribes you to not hire his daughter. It’s a weird start to the day.
Word Count: 4193
Warning: SFWish
Depression, Obsessive Tendencies, Mention of Addiction, Pettiness
“I’ll see you then, sweetheart.”
Giddy anticipation colored the hours leading up to the next shift. You replayed the memory over and over again; Him, backlit in the afternoon sun, the cocky tilt of his head as his lips wrapped around the word ‘sweetheart’.
Pause. Rewind. ‘Sweetheart’.
Thinking about it was like taking a bite of something delicious and unhealthy. The aftertaste left you queasy. You just couldn’t help yourself.
WARNINGS: obsessive behavior, toxic behavior/mindsets, manipulation, possessive behavior, all for one is evil as usual, fear tactics, some sensual touching, kisses, mentions of death if you squint, swearing, age gap relationship of you squint, but reader is depicted to be in their late 20s, also the fact I also didn't proofread this one lmao (pls forgive me I was working on this at like 3 am).
A/N: This takes place before AFO became the potato man. This is my take on how he would be like in a "relationship". If you want some PRIME AFO content, however, AND ARE THE AGE OF 18 OR OVER, go check out @nonobadcat 's story A Hypnotic Nightmare. It's one of my favs atm (also, badcat, if you're reading this, i haven't forgotten about the fanart! i've just had a lot on my plate bc of the end of school. im terribly sorry if it seemed like i left you hanging).
~~
You hated armored black vans.
Ever since meeting him you knew exactly what they meant.
They would come to you when you least expected it, and often when you really didn't want them to. You could be anywhere in the world, and one would always find a way to roll up next to you. If you tried to outwalk them, they would just drive faster. If you pretended to ignore them, they would cut you off in your tracks.
Persistent little shits.
Just like him.
This time, it was late into the night when one rolled up next to you. You hadn't seen one in some days beforehand, and was relishing in that fact when the dread-vehicle rumbled up next to you. You had just gotten done doing some late-night grocery shopping for yourself, looking decent but in no way perfect. Sighing through your nose, you gave the tinted windows of the van the glare of your life, trying in vain attempt to get it to just piss off.
Even though that tactic never worked before, it would never stop you from trying.
The van pulled up to the curb next to you and slowed to a stop. Seeing as there was no way you could run or try to ignore it now, you stopped in your tracks, clenching your plastic grocery bags tighter. A moment later, the van rolled it's driver's side window down, revealing the driver to you. You didn't recognize this one; it wasn't one in his normal rotation.
You wondered if he killed one of the other ones, and this one was the replacement.
Looking into the eyes of the driver, you shot him another glare, your face morphing into a frown. This didn't seem to phase the man, however, since he just stared back at you with a blank expression.
You knew you weren't that threatening, but, come on. At least show something.
"What is it?" you questioned the man, your voice firm and serious. Although you already knew the answer to that, you prayed to whoever was listening that it would be a different answer this time.
"He wants to see you."
No dice.
You let out another sigh through your nose, this time more frustrated and annoyed than the last one.
"I just saw him the other day," you tried to bargain, "and I have ice cream in here. Can it wait until tomorrow?"
The driver shook his head, "Sorry, miss. He wants you now."
Your face assumed a deeper frown. It wasn't often that these drivers made it known to you how persistent he was being in seeing you. This made a lump form in the bottom of your stomach. What did he want this time? Another date? Quality time? Or just to remind you of who you belonged to?
You hoped it was one of the former two.
Looking from side to side nervously, you swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking again, "Can I at least put my groceries in my apartment first?"
The driver shook his head, "We can get someone to do it for you, miss. But we need to leave. Now."
Damn, this driver really meant business.
Finally admitting defeat, you slowly took a few steps towards the van, watching as the large, jet-black doors rolled itself open for you. Leaning down, you set your bags on the clean, vacuumed floor of the van, ducking down and pushing yourself inside next. The driver watched you in the rear-view mirror, making sure that you sat down and buckled your seatbelt. Once you were safe in the backseat, he shut the door to the van and pulled out into the street again, driving noticeably careful.
A soft sense of dread washing over you, you leaned up against the van door and planted your elbow on the armrest, resting your chin in your palm. Not feeling up for friendly chat with the man driving you, you fixated your gaze out the window, watching as the neon lights of Japan rushed by you.
You wondered which location you would be at today.
He seemed to have spots everywhere across the world.
You hoped it was the Tokyo one. That one had your favorite food and view.
Hugging yourself closer to the door, you tried to ignore the dread winding up in your stomach. You tried your best to just focus on how pretty the lights looked at night, but couldn't help but have your mind linger back to the racing thoughts that plagued your head.
You wished your friend had never introduced you to his stupid fucking cult. He would deny over and over that it was a cult, but it was a cult. You had been quirkless for so long, and content being so all your life. But, when your friend told you about the man she met that could give you your very own quirk, you would be lying if you said you weren't intrigued.
Biggest mistake of your entire fucking life.
~~
Alas to you, the driver didn't take you to the Tokyo location. It ended up being the Osaka location. You felt rather disappointed by this.
The driver was at least nice enough to help you out of the car and escort you into the hands of your body guards for the night. The guards quickly surrounded you, almost suffocating you by how close they were. After relaying the message that you had arrived, the guards practically drug you into the tall, looming building.
You wondered when the next time you could go outside would be.
Going through the doors, you were greeted with the familiar sight of clean, shiny marble floors, your feet clacking against them as they always did. Everything about the building was ornate but simple, reminding you of some fancy hotel.
It was so fucking obnoxious.
Only one dude and occasionally yourself lived here. And not even full time.
It make you frown.
Eventually, the guards and yourself made your way to the elevators. When one eventually came down (it didn't take long because you were most likely some of the only people in the building), all of you packed in the elevator like a fucking clown car. You were shoulder-to-shoulder with the much taller guards, suffocating on their cologne.
The dead silence in the elevator made you wanna puke.
~~
The guards left you once you were at the door.
You were now all alone in the hallway, the tall, dark, looming door before you. Your fingertips were trembling, yet you didn't know if it was out of fear or anticipation.
He probably already knew you were here. Why did you even have to go through this step? Just for his sick kicks?
Most likely.
You didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
You swallowed and closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths in and out of your nose. You had to give yourself a pep talk before you could lift up your hand, curling your knuckles to knock on the door.
You stopped before you could knock even once. If there was any time to run, this is it. If you could just-
No. It's impossible.
God how you knew it was impossible.
No matter where you went, no matter what you did, he seemed to always know.
You've seen him angry before. It ran shivers down your spine and made you contemplate whether or not there was an afterlife or not.
You didn't want to know how he was like when he was pissed off. Especially if it was directed towards you.
And, you knew, trying to get away from him was a sure as fuck way to royally piss him off.
Taking in one last deep breath, you put on your brave face and knocked on the door, feeling your dread become almost overwhelming in your gut.
You wet your lips before you spoke.
"It's me."
...
Silence.
Your head perked up at the nothingness that greeted you back. Was he not here anymore? Did he leave for a different place without telling you?
You opened your mouth to say something again, but quickly shut it again.
Could you... leave? Go home?
This was definitely a first.
As soon as your excitement welled up, however, you were quickly shot down again from the deep voice behind the door.
"Come in."
Fuck.
Squaring your shoulders and putting on your bravest face, you gingerly opened the door and stepped through, leaning your back against the wood as you shut it again.
Why did you do this to yourself? So willingly walk into the lion's den?
It didn't take you long to remember.
Fear.
Looking inside the room, the lighting was moody to say the least. Barely anything was turned on, and it was so deafeningly quiet, sans the sounds of the city below and the hum of the AC.
Scanning the room with your eyes, you felt your stomach do a flip when you landed on the man of the hour.
The man who had taken over your life for the past three years.
Him.
Shigaraki. Or, as he was known by everyone who wasn't you, All for One.
Probably the most feared man in Japan. Hell, the world even.
Christ on a fucking bike.
He was seated on the couch that faced the door, his usual sly smirk on his face. One of his legs was crossed over the other, and he seemed to had shed his black coat long ago. His crimson eyes bore right into the very fiber of your being, right into your very soul. His presence was so fucking overwhelming it made you feel like you couldn't breathe. The amount of power that dripped off that man was uncanny.
It always made you wonder what he wanted with quirkless little you.
Unable to maintain eye contact with him for any longer, you dropped your gaze to the floor, your back still pressed against the door. Even though you couldn't see him anymore, you could feel his eyes on you, raking up and down your body.
You prayed that this night went by quickly.
"You're late, little one." He said to you, making your shoulders tense up.
"I..." you began, your nervousness painfully obvious as you brushed your hair behind your ear, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be."
All for One let out a hum, and you could practically fucking feel his smirk grow bigger from across the room.
You wondered if he knew that you were only half telling the truth, or if he was just that delusional.
After a moment, he spoke again.
"Come into the light, darling. Let me get a good look at you."
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you hesitated for a brief second, your fingertips twitching against the wood of the door. Seeing no possible way out, you decided it was best to just do what he said. Pushing yourself off the door, you took small, timid steps into the light, keeping your gaze down on the floor. Awkwardly trying to figure out what you should do with your hands, you decided on clasping them in front of you, picking at the skin around your nails.
You could really feel his eyes on you now.
He looked you over for what felt like an eternity before he said something else, making your eyes flicker back up to him.
"There's no need to be shy, my dear," he said, sensing how nervous you were, "There's nothing to be concerned about. You know I would never harm you."
You wanted to snort out a laugh, but decided against it. Yes, he had never hurt you before, but you doubted it was out of his realm of capability.
Not knowing what to respond with, you simply just nodded, turning your attention back to your hands.
Shigaraki continued to stare at you for a good long while, his red eyes lingering on your cute face and nervous eyes.
Fucking hell you were just too adorable.
After a good second, All for One lifted up his hand, making you look up at him. He was holding his palm out to you, his usual smirk on his face.
"Come here." He said.
Shit, he was getting serious tonight.
Your cheeks tinting a faint pink, you forced your feet to raise up and make you walk across the room. Once you were close enough, you put your hand into his, watching it as it was nearly swallowed by the sheer size of his palm. Knowing exactly what he wanted, you slipped yourself in between his long, thick legs and sat back into his lap. Your side was nuzzled into the crook of his armpit, his strong arm wrapping itself around your waist to keep you in place. Just like he liked, you rested your head against All for One's shoulder, gently lying your hands across his broad chest. This seemed to please him greatly, since he put his other hand on your lower thigh, gently rubbing circles into the side of your knee with his thumb.
You must really be fucking insane.
Gently, Shigaraki pressed a gentle kiss into your hair, mumbling out a quiet good girl in the process.
You couldn't stop the pink dust from spreading across your cheeks.
"How was your day today, darling?" He asked you, the rumble of his voice in his chest loud in your ears.
You hummed before speaking.
"It was okay..." you said, feeling the hand on your side gently stroking up and down.
"You had a lot to do, didn't you?" He asked, making you glance up at him.
Of course he fucking knew about your goddamned errands and job.
"Yeah..." you said, "I was expecting to go back home and chill the rest of the night, but..."
Shigaraki let out a chuckle at this. You didn't have to finish your thought for him to know what you meant.
"Oh, I'm sorry, little one." He said, pressing another kiss to your temple, "I know you must be tired."
You nodded in response, maybe a bit too eagerly.
"I just couldn't bear another second without you, darling." He continued, tracing circles on your thigh this his pointer and middle finger, "I just had to have my special girl with me tonight."
You shifted your weight in his lap, looking up at him, "Did something happen?"
Shigaraki chuckled at this, reaching up and brushing the hair out of your face, "Let's just say I had some... family issues tonight, my dear."
Family?
Shigaraki had family?
This was definitely a first.
You couldn't help but to be nosy.
"Family?" you asked.
"Oh, nothing for you to be concerned about, my sweet girl." He said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
"You never told me you had family." You pressed, not wanting to let the subject go.
"You never needed to know, small one. Besides, it would be too dangerous for you to meet them anyhow."
"Dangerous?"
"There's a possibly they would try to take you from me."
"I highly doubt you would let that happen."
He chuckled, "As clever as always, my darling."
"What are their names?"
"Let's move on from his, my love."
"But I-"
"Are you hungry, dear? I can have someone fetch you something."
"Shigaraki, I just-"
"I said no."
A shiver went down your spine and you were quick to shut your mouth. You knew what that tone meant. It meant shut up or you get a punishment.
You always just chose to shut up.
Seemingly pleased at your compliance, Shigaraki assumed his usual smirk again and planted a kiss on your cheek, rubbing more small circles into your side.
"Have I told you how radiant you look tonight, my dear?" He asked you.
Not feeling in the mood to talk anymore, you just shook your head no.
"You always look gorgeous to me, my dear. Every single piece of you."
Pulling you closer to his chest, he lifted up your chin and looked deep into your eyes.
"My special girl. My favorite."
Closing the distance between the two of you, All for One pressed his lips to yours, stealing your breath away. His kisses were always just like him: strong, confident, and dominating.
Kissing Shigaraki always filled you with a whirling of emotions. Perhaps it was because you were tired that night, or perhaps it was because of the air, but you allowed yourself to fully enjoy his kiss. The feeling of his hands on you, the feeling of how small he made you feel, the feeling of his power radiating off his skin...
He always had this affect on you. When you were apart from him, you found it hard to love him.
Prompt can be found here - Warning: reading prompt in advance may contain spoilers
Word count: <1000
Timeline: Post potato face, but pre-series. Tomura is about 16 in this.
Rating: Mature - mentions of panties and negligee
It was something you’d never gotten used to: the way blind men don’t need light.
No matter the time of day, the laboratory was covered in a carpet of shadows. The green-blue of the monitors bathed the room in an eerie glow, like a full moon above a dark lagoon. The hiss of the breathing apparatus echoed along the conduits. The fluid pump would rattle occasionally as it pushed a vitamin drip through the IV lines.
While most of the monitors contained data on the nomus in the tanks, the bottom right always made you smile. On it, the jagged beating of a heart flitted across the screen. You pressed your weight against the door until it clicked shut. The soft noise was enough to speed the pace of the heart about ten beats per minute. The message was clear.
You were more than welcome here.
“Well…" There was a short pause as his voice lilted upwards with amusement. "I wasn’t expecting you to be awake at this hour."
You kicked off the door and padded your way softly to the other side of the room. Thankful the light of the computers was enough to guide your path. You dodged a tether of cords and a bundle of wires. The bubbling of the tanks was relaxing. It reminded you of an aquarium.
“I was worried about you,” you replied. You stopped a few feet short of the leather chair and tucked your hands behind your back. Your fingers found each other as you started to fiddle with your own digits. You cocked your head and made a curious titter. “Are you sleeping all right?”
The large leather chair creaked as All For One turned to face you. When he hummed, it radiated down the breathing tube. The grey apparatus connected to his trachea didn’t phase you anymore. If anything, it was a gift that allowed you to see his smile. His broad, toothy grin was sharper than a crocodile’s fangs and more intoxicating than liquor.
“It’s easier for me to sleep upright. You know this.”
Though his blind eyes couldn’t make out the fine details, All For One’s Infrared quirk allowed him to see your posture. You tilted your head down as your bare foot twisted into the floor. With his hearing more acute than ever, he could make out the click of a temptIng tongue on pouty lips.
Your fingers twirled around each other. “It doesn’t make me worry about you less,” you mumbled in a coquettish tone.
All For One thumbed his chin. The pad of his broad index finger stroked his lower lip. “If you’re so worried, then come here and see for yourself how I am.”
It was adorable, the way your body perked at his words. Your movements were slow and cautious, like a cat sniffing out a new human. However, when he held his hand out to you, your fingers wrapped around his. He could feel the pulse of your heart quicken as you slipped into his lap. You dangled your legs across his dress slacks and nuzzled your head into his chest. There was a deep inhale and a contented sigh.
“You’re warm,” you murmured.
All For One’s hand trailed down your side, taking in the exquisite texture of your short negligee. Though he’d never seen it, the expensive silk was lovely to touch. After all, nothing less than the best would have been fit for his lover. The only thing he regretted was that it could never be as lovely as your hands crawling over his body.
As his fingers slipped under the edge of the fabric, a short chuckle escaped his lips. The lacey panties he’d purchased for you were already wet.
“My dear, I’m starting to suspect you had some ulterior motives in coming here tonight.”
A noncommittal hum rumbled in your chest. “It’s possible.”
Broad, calloused fingers took your chin in their grip. He raised your face to him, he could feel the warmth of your breath tickle across his nose. As your hair shifted, he caught a whiff of your favorite scent and some sort of sweet cherry. His thumb found the glossy smooth balm as he stroked your lips. His pants tightened as his grin stretched the scars on his face.
Oh… clearly it was more than possible.
As he brought your mouth to hover just beside his, he uttered only three words:
“You naughty tease.”
“Master?”
All For One sat bolt upright in his chair, his hands dropping from the keyboard. Despite his lack of eyes, his head turned on instinct towards the boy beside him. He could smell the nose curling musk of unwashed teenager. He’d have to remind his protege to shower more often. The boy’s room was becoming unbearable to walk past.
With a deep inhale, the demon lord of Japan answered. “Yes, Tomura?”
“Are you…” there was a long pause. “...writing fanfiction?”
All For One reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. He cringed at the greasy texture. Dry shampoo. He would have Kurogiri purchase dry shampoo as soon as the pharmacy opened.
“Reader insert fanfiction to be precise,” All For One replied.
Tomura scratched his neck and cocked his head. “Why?”
All For One’s grin split his face. “Because my boy, my simps need their fix.”
theartofmadeline
amandla
titsay
romaincrisis
tangentwithtanner
vaporwave
