#jinx x female oc

[ladey]

for those who may or may not know, i have an arcane fanfiction on hiatus that was PREVIOUSLY a jinx x reader insert story but i changed it to have an oc instead.

since then i’ve been brainstorming and thinking up concepts, and i was wondering if y’all would be interested in seeing some of the sketches of her (my oc) amongst other stuff like mood boards of her vibe/style, as well as layouts and floor plans of her home.

same goes for other oc side characters like her family (cousin, father, mother, etc). as well as childhood sketches of herself.

(may or may not be making drawings of those vinyl records for jinx/powder and her as well. yea i’m really going all out.)

lemme know, cuz i’m really excited at the thought of sharing these! 😘

[unluckiestmember]

YAY, YOU'RE BACK TO WRITING FOR ARCANE. How would the arcane characters react (mainly vi, ekko, and jinx because i would marry, marry, and marry them all!!) to a reader who is sooo affectionate and finds every last thing they do so cute they get cuteness aggression and just jump at them like a cuddle bug often? thank you so much!!

Coming right up!

Arcane x Cuddle Bug! Reader

Characters: Powder/Jinx, Violet "Vi", Ekko, Caitlyn Kiramman, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda, Sevika and Ran.

Warning: None really. SFW.

A/N: Am I the only one who wants to snuggle into Caitlyn? Ugh, I love her so much.

Powder/Jinx

“Oh! Hey there, sugar! You want to cuddle? Don’t have to ask me twice! I’ll cuddle you so much that you get tired of me! But you’d never get tired of me, right?”

Jinx is a super clingy person, so for you to be as clingy as her it’s like you two are a match made in heaven. There’s barely any time that passes when you two are not touching each other and she lives for your cuddles. It doesn’t matter if you hug her out of nowhere or she sees you about to embrace her, she is stopping everything she is doing and pulling you into the tightest of hugs.

Most of the time if she isn’t causing mayhem in the streets of Zaun or busy with her inventions, she will spend her time just holding you so close and showering your face with the cutest but most childish of kisses. She doesn’t care if it’s in private or public, she will make it known that you two can’t keep your hands off each other. You are her cuddlebug and she is yours and that won’t ever change.

Violet “Vi”

“Woah there, cuddle bug! You’re gonna make me screw up my workout… Oh forget it. How can I say no to you?”

Because Violet is absolutely touch starved, she will never decline your cuddles, even if you take her by surprise a few times with how you hug her so suddenly. She finds it adorable how you fangirl around her and find everything she does to be awesome or cute. Granted she does wish you’d call her hot or sexy, but knows that isn’t really in tune with your personality.

Regardless, she tries to make sure you know how adorable you are, always telling you while you two are cuddled up together how lucky she is to have you and how you are so adorable. Even when you visit her at work, she’ll try to drop everything and have you run into her arms to pick you up. And every time she’s got time off work or is coming back from a job, she’s automatically looking for you so she could hook you in her arms and never let go.

Ekko

“Y/N, haha! You know we gotta keep this private, babe- The kids are gonna pounce on us any second now!”

Does Ekko love hugging you? Absolutely. The warmth of your arms around his body makes him stop everything he’s doing and just hug you while calling you his firelight or firefly. Unless he’s calling you an angel or lovebug, which never fails to make Scar either look at you two in awe or roll their eyes in mock annoyance. Unfortunately, Ekko does try his best to make sure you two don’t get super affectionate around the children, especially when it comes to hugs.

Why? Because as soon as you hug him, the children find this as an invitation to gather around him and have him nearly die under a cuteness overload of a group hug. It’s nice as a once in a while occurrence, but all the time? Maybe not. Outside of the reactions you two garnish and even the teasing of you being the firelight king/queen, Ekko lives for your cuddlebug energy, wanting to be in your arms after a long day’s work. It’s always the best way to end the night… 

Caitlyn Kiramman

“And that’s why if I am able to block this end of the road, I’ll- Oh!... Oh come here, sweetheart. If you wanted to cuddle so badly, you could’ve asked.”

Caitlyn has always been someone who was more subtle with her love, pulling you into brief kisses, cupping your cheek and holding you by your waist. She usually leaves the more out there gestures like hugging and cuddling for you to initiate. But when you do? It might be harder for you to get her off of you instead of the other way around. It can be at work, in her home, outside of work or at an event. As soon as she feels your arms wrap around her slender body, she’s stopping for a second to hold you back and kiss your forehead.

She will continue working if you interrupt her during a briefing or in the middle of cracking a case, but the entire time, she will have at least one arm around your body and make sure you are comfortable. Her comrades tease her about it and she’ll scowl a bit, but she doesn’t care. As far as she can tell, she’s extremely lucky to have you as a lover.

Viktor

“Ah! Oh, it is just you, zolotse. Remember, you have to warn me of these cute little hugs of yours.”

At first, Viktor wasn’t used to your physical affection and how you were in awe of everything he did. He actually thought you were mocking him at first or being silly. But after a while, especially when the two of you became a couple, he grew accustomed to your affections. He does get a bit startled when you hug him out of nowhere and he does have moments where you cheering him on does make him a bit bashful, but he enjoys your sweet gestures regardless.

He does find it difficult to be as outgoing with his love for you as you are with him, but he does try his best to make you realize he loves you, especially in the form of quality time and calling you by sweet pet names bound to make you blush. Viktor has a tendency to pass out from working too hard and waking up in your arms. And though he’d never say it out loud, you know based on the way he snuggles into you, he adores it and adores you.

Jayce Talis

“I know what you want and I want it too- So bring it in! I’ve waited all day to be in your arms!”

Because Jayce is always out at work, it’s kind of hard for you two to be around one another all the time. That’s why when he does reunite with you after hours or you two can be together on days off, he’s spending the majority of his free time with you or wrapped around you. He sort of craves for your praise and compliments as much as he craves your cuddles.

Many would compare the councilman to a needy dog wanting his owner’s undivided attention and he definitely gets that through you. Though he may try to act all cool or play coy, everyone knows that you mean so much to him and that he becomes putty around you. Even if they don’t, you’re not afraid to say it aloud. Just make sure Jayce isn’t around or that man will become redder than a beet.

Mel Medarda

“What’s wrong?... I know that look. You want to- Ah! Well looks like you beat me to the punch, darling. How about we take this to the bed, hmm?”

Mel wasn’t really given physical affection when she was younger. She was more someone who preferred verbal affection with words of affirmation. So when it came to you and how affectionate you are, she found herself adapting and loving physical affection as much as telling you how much she loved you.

Your cuddles and sweet gestures are her personal heaven she loves returning to after a long day’s work, especially if she can spend an evening with you platonically in your shared bed. In your arms, she feels she can air out anything that’s bothering her or interests her, especially when you admit how cute it is when she does. Though this kind of intimate affection is delegated to private quarters, anyone can know from the way Mel speaks of you outside of home and at events that you mean so much to her.

Sevika

“Yeah! So then I was like screw you, I can do whatever- Hold on. Uh, Y/N. I thought we agreed to not do this at work?”

Sevika is considered the Right Hand of Zaun, a woman who is feared if not respected by her peers. And she’d like to keep it that way. Which means that while you two are at work, she prefers it if you don’t cuddle her around co-workers and give them something to tease her about. You two can only flirt and kiss and even then, it has to be sexy…

But alone, when both of you are away from the public eye, Sevika is at your beck and call wishing for nothing else but to hear your sweet praises and melt into your arms and touch. Expect her to call you the cutest thing ever and tease you on occasion, but afterwards she’s basically a big needy cat, or as she prefers to be called, a panther. It’s moments like these where you can really consider yourself lucky to see a raw side of Sevika. And it was only preserved for you.

If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[fict1onallyobsessed]

“It’s heavily implied that-”

I CANT LIVE ON IMPLICATIONS. GIVE ME ANSWERS RIOT, NOW!!!!!!!!!!

[bellybuttonbooks]

THE SIXTH | Ekko x Fem!OC

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Rest of the fanfic can be found here.

SUMMARY:

Shimmer is back. Two years after the war with Noxus has ended, a new gangster emerges within the undercity, now known as 'Zaun'.

Daunter is a ruthless chem-baron who has reformed the city's drug empire. He refloods the streets with shimmer and gains the title 'Silco's Heir'.

The Firelights are back in commission after two years of lax, taking down exports just like the days when Silco was still alive.

When the group arrives at an export and finds it already taken down with the barrels drained of shimmer, it becomes apparent that Daunter and his gang aren't the only ones they need to look out for. They had competition. Or... did they?

Ekko finds himself involved in a seemingly endless cat-and-mouse chase with another gang leader-a woman who moves like the wind. He wants to know what her motives are, but he has to catch her first.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

CHAPTER ONE:

- Zaun, two years after the conclusion of Arcane

"Fuck—"

It happened again. Their mission had been sabotaged, just like before. Someone had arrived before he and the Firelights had gotten there, Daunter's goons paralyzed and tied up, the barrels drained of shimmer.

Daunter was Zaun's newest chem baron—and currently it's biggest. He reintroduced shimmer to the Lanes, reflooding the streets with the purple drug.

After Silco had died and the undercity got caught up in a battle with Piltover and Noxus, shimmer had been mostly exterminated by Caitlyn and her enforcers. It still lingered in the black market, but mass exports ceased to exist. Until a few months ago, that is. Daunter crept in like slow-forming shadows caused by a rising moon. In increments so small that no one noticed until everything was drenched in its darkness.

This forced the Firelights back into action. But now, there seemed to be someone else who was intent on interrupting Daunter's operations. Ekko would have accepted the help if it wasn't for the fact that they'd taken the shimmer. He couldn't help but suspect that the culprit had ill intentions, and that put them at odds with the Firelights.

"Looks like we got competition," a distorted voice said from beside him.

Ekko turned his head to look at the masked face of Scar, a tall chirean who served as his Lieutenant and second in command. Chireans held bat-like appearances (minus the wings), with large ears, grey-toned skin, bat-like noses, and neon green eyes.

Both men stood atop a nearby roof, out of hearing distance of the restrained goons on the cargo airship.

"More like another enemy," Ekko responded.

Scar processed his leader's remark before speaking again. "You think they got bad intentions?"

"They're up to no good if they're stealing shimmer. Probably selling it themselves to make bank," he said pointedly.

Scar took in Ekko's words. It made sense and sounded like the most likely scenario. Though, one thing stood out to him.

"Why would they tie em' up? They already have em' paralyzed somehow. It's like they're leaving 'em here for someone to arrest or something."

Ekko considered this but had already thought up a reason. "The paralysis might not last long. Could be a precaution."

Scar nodded, agreeing that his reasoning seemed plausible.

"What should we do? Seems we keep missing 'em. Should we put out scouters across the city?"

Ekko exhaled through his nose, mulling over Scar's suggestion. It did sound like a good idea, but he had to also consider the risks. He didn't want to put his people in danger. This wouldn't be like their typical 'element of surprise' mission. This would involve spying, waiting, and watching—usually from the shadows to avoid detection. Despite this, Ekko had faith in the Firelights.

"Yeah. Could assign shifts. But we still need to keep most of our numbers back at the hideout in case of any surprise missions."

Scar agreed. Daunter was becoming more and more unpredictable, and there were times when they had to act quickly, creating plans with only hours to spare.

The conversation between the men ended there and Ekko mounted his aeroglider. He flew over to the transport ship and hopped off the board, sliding it behind his back to attach to the magnetic piece on his coat. He neared Daz, one of the newer Firelights.

Daz was a little on the shorter side, his body mass nothing impressive. But he was quick, and that made up for his size.

"You find anything useful? Anything they might've left behind?"

Daz stood from his crouching position. "Nothing. But this guy says that it was a bunch of people dressed in black wearing cloaks," he said.

The younger male nudged the oversized goon who was laying on the boarded floors of the airship with his booted foot.

Ekko's eyes narrowed in thought from the goon's revelation. He crouched down, deciding to take questioning the brute into his own hands.

"Did you see any faces? Anything?"

Daunter's ruffian shook his head, his double chin jigging as he did so.

"I was lucky to even see 'em in the first place. Bastards were quick as shit, bouncin' all over the place like a bunch 'a damn shimmer addicts."

Ekko stared down at the overweight man for a few moments before standing.

'Was it possible that whoever had done this was also consuming the drug to give themselves a physical advantage?'

Authoritative voices sounded from the distance, pulling him from his thoughts and signaling him and the other firelights that enforcers were nearby. Ekko yanked his aeroglider from behind his back once again, hopping onto it before instructing the other Firelights to follow him out of there.

The group flew to their hideout, flickers of green trails decorating the air behind them as they moved.

The Firelight hideout was impressive—only accessible through a labyrinth of abandoned sewer pipes. He and his people had the pipes memorized by now, knowing exactly where to go to reach the entrance. The entrance was covered by a heavy, circular piece of metal—resembling that of a manhole cover. It rolled to the side, allowing them access.

Each time Ekko walked through the gate, he was struck with amazement at what he had accomplished so far. He had created a community in the last ten years, having found a large tree growing from the deep, dark depths of Zaun—a miracle, but also a symbol of hope. He had built himself a home, a sanctuary, and shared it with the people of the undercity that had been affected by the shimmer epidemic and the victims of the battle. He was proud of himself, and the people who had joined him in forming the Firelights. They had done well.

During the war, they'd almost lost the tree. Well, they had lost the tree. The corruption from the hexcore had bled into the roots of their tree, causing the leaves to become tainted in wild rune markings before ultimately falling off. But using the knowledge he had learned in the other timeline he'd been teleported to, Ekko was able to form a time bubble around the hideout, reversing time in sphere they'd created but no where else. After ensuring no one was in the bubble, Ekko was able to bring the tree back to its former condition—before his mural had been painted on it.

Before the war, he'd vanished for months, leaving the Firelight no choice but to assume his death. They painted his face on the mural. It was a chilling thing to see once he'd returned; a symbol of his own death that hadn't occurred. A bad omen.

He had lost people throughout his twenty-three years of life—too many people. He carried the memories of his fallen friends with him and honored their memory by having a mural painted on the tall walls of the sewer, colourful portraits of the people who had passed on. It added to the surrealness of their hideout, while also ensuring who they've lost remained with them in, watching over them as they worked, lived, and thrived underneath their still gaze.

His eyes skimmed over the mural; Vi, Powder, Claggor, Mylo, Momo, Chip, Kurt, Jal, Eve, Radar, Heimerdinger, Jinx, and the most recent addition—Ajuna.

He lowered his gaze and walked to his room. It was located in one of the higher structures of the tree. Usually, he would use his hoverboard to fly there, but he decided to take the long way so that he could think on the way there. Plus, the exercise wouldn't hurt. He began his venture up the lengthy stairs, his mind occupied as he did so.

He soon reached his destination, pushing open the door before closing it behind him again after stepping inside.

His room was clean, but also messy. His bed was made, which was something he forced himself to do every morning. It was a twin bed that lined the back right corner of the room. Opposite the bed was his workbench, where the mess began. It was a disorganized madness, but it was his madness, and it worked for him. He was an inventor, a prodigy and a genius, as his parents called him. The workbench was evidence of his success and failures. His tools scattered across the wooden surface, grooves beginning to form in the shape of his fingers from how often he used them. Pieces of scrap lined the walls next to the desk, things he refused to throw out because he was determined to find a use for them some day.

The wall behind his desk was littered with plans, blueprints, diagrams—either of inventions he had already made, planned to make, or things he still hadn't finished planning yet. Next to the bed was his desk. It was situated underneath a curtained window. That was where some of the mission planning took place. He was the leader, and he was the one who created intricate plans for his team to embark on (with some help from Scar at times).

Ekko yanked his aeroglider from his back and rested it against the leg of his workbench before shedding his graffitied coat and folding it over his work chair. He removed his mask and placed it on his desk before sitting in his chair.

His mind was tossing and turning, thinking back to their wrecked mission. It was clear that the Firelights had another enemy to deal with now, as if Daunter and his gang weren't enough. He worried about what this might mean for their future undertakings, what confronting the group would be like, what their leader was like—if they even had one. They most likely did. They wouldn't have been able to pull off such swift heists if they didn't.

Ekko exhaled and willed his troubled thoughts to leave with his breath. He needed to focus. Make a schedule. Make a plan. He pulled out some parchment and leaned over his desk, getting to work.

Weeks passed, and the Firelights had no luck with spotting the culprits. Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing. That and any physical altercations made using shimmer made them dangerously fast foes.

Ekko stood atop a roof, his mask adorning his face and the hood pulled over his head. He held his hoverboard to his side, having just landed. The building he was situated on was positioned along one of the main routes for Daunter's shimmer exports.

At this hour, the city was dark but also illuminated by the lights within its buildings. It was pretty, no one could deny that. Pink and green light outlined its contents, adding to its nighttime radiance. It was a contrast to the dank stench that polluted their air.

He lingered on the roof for a while, hoping to spot some movement.

His scouting shift was ending. His body was tense with anticipation and eagerness that didn't seem to dissipate as the time ticked well beyond when he should have gone home. This mystery had been bothering him since the first time they came across an empty transport about a month ago. He couldn't understand how he and the Firelights kept missing them. How this mysterious group of people in black seemed to be getting away with it. Right now, all he knew was that he would not rest until he figured it out, and then took care of it by taking them down.

A flicker of movement occurred from the top right of his peripheral. In a flash his head wagged in the direction, his focus zooming in on it. There. He could see a very faint outline of what looked like the side of someone, the rest of them drenched in inky shadows. They stood upon a roof in the near distance. When Ekko moved onto the other side of the roof he was standing on, he noticed that there were other figures standing with the initial one he had noticed. It had to be them.

He knew that he'd have to stay hidden and quiet. He was outnumbered by people who had unknown capabilities. Instead of confronting them, he would follow them. Watch them and their moves, learn their techniques, inspect them for any weaknesses, and figure out who was leading them.

He put his aeroglider on his back, knowing that the green lights on it would immediately reveal his location—especially in the darkness of the night. He would have to move on foot. He wasn't exactly skilled in moving stealthily. His boots always felt too heavy, his breathing too loud—especially behind his mask. Despite this, he was determined to pursue the group. He'd been chasing nothing but possibilities for weeks. The possibility that he might spot them. The possibility of learning more about them. The possibility of the Firelights having the capability to take them down. He was sick of unanswered questions, and if slinking into the shadows like some kind of damn ninja was what he had to do to get them, then so be it.

When they moved, he moved, trying to mask any footsteps or sounds he made with theirs. So far, it seemed they were moving aimlessly. They headed in every which direction, making quick yet precise movements. Ekko was almost in awe. This group moved with grace and excellence. They used acrobatics and parkour together, the combination of the two giving the group a unique advantage in means of travel and stealth.

Ekko was able to see that the group consisted of about 6 people, with one of them leading the lot. He could see that they were indeed adorned in black attire, which included black cloaks. Any other physical details remained a blur due to their continuous motion.

The leader seemed to lead the group to some sort of abandoned warehouse. It had long since been cleared out of its storage—Ekko and the Firelights having raided it once after Squirt, one of the older members of the gang, spotted it during a mission.

Ekko kept himself tucked away in a nearby alley, sparing only a few glances as he saw the group circle on the concrete clearing in front of the warehouse. As he glanced over the corner, he noticed there was one fewer than before. Before he could even begin wondering what happened to them, he felt an abrupt poke on the back of his neck, directly in the center. In seconds he was crumbling to the ground, his own body refusing to listen to his brain signals that demanded he move. He lay there helplessly, now at the complete mercy of this group that he knew nothing about. He tested his eyes, seeing if he could glance around and blink. He could. He tried opening his mouth. He could. But that was it.

His eyes caught sight of the person who had managed to take him down in mere seconds without him even knowing they were there. They were small—a small female. She was dressed in all black besides a crimson scarf wrapped around her neck. He couldn't see her face because she was wearing a black half mask that covered her nose and mouth, and tinted goggles that covered her eyes. One of the most prominent things he noticed was how long and bushy her hair was. She had it tied in a low ponytail and the ends of it reached all the way to her ankles.

'There's no way that was the ideal way to keep her hair during outings like these,' Ekko thought. It reminded him of Pow—Jinx. Long hair. Always getting in the way when she fought. He felt his heart clench, but he banished the impending memories that threatened to come forth. He didn't have time to think about that now.

"You've been following us," the woman said, her voice firm and yet soft at the same time.

She began circling him, sizing him up before coming to a stop near his head. She squatted down beside him, her head tilting to the side as she looked over his masked face.

"And you've been stealing shimmer to do who knows what with."

Her head tilted to the other side as she listened to him respond in the distorted voice caused by his mask. "What of it? You want some?" Her voice was muffled by the material of her mask.

He scoffed, disgust filling him and lacing his voice with venom as he spoke. "So, you do make profit off it."

She didn't respond to that. Instead, she gripped the edges of his mask and began to tug it off. When she felt a resistance, she reached into his hood and unsnapped the fastens and then tried again.

Ekko could do nothing to stop her as she revealed his face to the night air.

She gave him a good stare down, as if memorizing every facial feature he had. She reached a hand down to him, her fingers making gentle contact with the hourglass marking on his forehead and nose.

Ekko would have jolted away from her touch if he wasn't paralyzed.

She traced along the edges of the marking with two of her fingers, her movements slow and deliberate. After pulling her hand away, she stared down at him some more, almost like she was contemplating something. "What does it mean?"

Ekko's mouth parted, confusion and bewilderment striking him from her abrupt question. He couldn't even think of forming an answer to that question, too caught off guard by it.

"Nothing? Just thought the shape was cool, huh?" She stood, his mask still pinched between her fingers.

"This thing is neat. Did you make it yourself?" She turned the mask over in her hands and held it up, getting a closer look at the neon pink 'x' painting on the front of it and then looking at the mechanics on the inside that made the wearer's voice distorted.

"What did you do to me? I can't move."

She looked from his mask and down at him again as she ignored her question. She seemed to pause, as if stunned by the sound of his actual voice that was no longer disguised by his mask.

"It's temporary. It'll wear off in an hour or so."

Ekko's eyes widened. "An hour? Stuck like this? With you?"

She snickered. "Hey, you're the one who was following us. I had to make sure you weren't a threat." She bent forward and gazed down at him; her eyes still hidden behind the goggles she wore. "So, are you? A threat, I mean."

Ekko swallowed. "Depends. I don't know you, or what your intentions are. I'm only a threat to those who are a threat to me," he said.

"Well, that's quite the predicament. We don't know your intentions, and you don't know ours." She stood up straight before continuing. "But you were the one following us. That's not very nice, y'know."

Ekko could feel her words ignite annoyance within him like a flame touching gas.

"I had my reasons," he retorted matter-of-factly.

The girl turned around, hiding her face from view before pulling down her mask and removing her goggles from her eyes, leaving them resting on her head like a headband. Then she put on his mask. It was too big for her, but she kept it on, nonetheless.

Ekko became enraged. "Take it off, now." His voice was angered and demanding.

She snickered again, this time teasingly as she turned around to show him her face now covered by his own mask.

"No, I don't think I will." Her voice came out distorted now, and it only added to Ekko's fury.

Before Ekko could make a response, she moved quickly out of his peripheral. And suddenly, she was atop the roof of one of the buildings lining the alleyway. She gave him a taunting wave before dashing away.

Ekko could hear her voice in the distance as she ordered the group to head back.

'So, she's their leader.'

Ekko mulled over that fact for a few seconds until he realized that he was now left in the alleyway, defenseless. She had left him there paralyzed and alone, completely vulnerable to any possible thugs in the area.

"Shit—"

Just as the word left his mouth, she returned to her spot on the roof. He watched her plop down, her short legs dangling over the ledge. He could hear her muffled, distorted snicker.

'Bitch.'

"Don't worry, I'll babysit you until you can move again."

Ekko blinked, confusion dousing him from her odd intentions.

"Why?"

"To make sure no one hurts you silly," she replied, her oddly cheerful voice making the distortion effects of the mask glitch out. He heard her giggle.

He stared up at her in disbelief. "You wouldn't have to do that if you hadn't paralyzed me in the first place."

"And I wouldn't have had to paralyze you if you hadn't been following us in the first place."

She had a point, and he knew it, But he also knew he was justified for following them. He needed to know what their intentions were.

"What are you doing with the shimmer that you've been stealing?" He knew his question was a long shot, but at this point he didn't have anything to lose.

"That's for me to know, and for you... To not know."

This woman was infuriating.

"Then I have no choice but to assume that you're selling it for profit. You're just continuing to add to the problems of the undercity. How do you live with yourself? Contributing to the pain and suffering of other people for the sake of coins."

She seemed to pause at his words, like she was thinking carefully before responding. "You're quick to assume things, huh?"

Ekko watched as she crossed her arms over her chest, her head still tilted downwards as she stared at him through his mask from her perch on the roof ledge.

"What choice do I have when you won't give me anything."

She hummed. "Touche."

Ekko could feel pins and needles erupt in the tips of his fingers and toes. The paralysis was starting to wear off. He decided to keep this information to himself. Maybe he could try and get her to come down here and strike after the paralysis had completely worn off without her knowledge.

"How'd you do this? You poked me and suddenly I'm all paralyzed and helpless."

He heard her make a noise of amusement, hinting that she was probably smirking behind his mask.

"More questions?

He rolled his eyes. "Are you gonna answer this one?"

She shook her head in amusement, and Ekko watched in astonishment as she stood and flipped into the air, landing on the ground right beside his head with absolute grace.

'She just flipped off a god damn building.'

He had to admit, that was impressive as hell. He'd lived in the undercity his whole life, and many kids grew up learning how to do parkour, but nothing like this. Sure, he could do his own mid-air flip, but his landings were far from as graceful and quiet as hers. It was like she was a dancer or something.

She squatted next to his head again, peering down at him like before but this time behind his mask.

"How about we swap secrets, yeah? You tell me what this means—" She paused and then poked the white marking on his forehead and nose. "—And I tell you how I made you 'all paralyzed and helpless'."

Ekko was taken aback. She would really reveal something so valuable in exchange for something that was merely personal to him?

"It means a lot of things. It's shaped like an hourglass. I've always had a thing for time."

She made another amused sound—probably smirking again.

"That's it? You have a thing for time? No deep, mysterious meaning for painting a freaking hourglass on your face?"

"Guess so."

She stood and crossed her arms over her chest.

He was starting to get more feeling in his face now, and he didn't even notice when he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Who are you?" he asked her, not really expecting an answer.

She shook her head disapprovingly again before replying. "Another question? But I haven't even answered the other one yet," she pointed out jeeringly.

He grit his teeth. This teeny tiny woman had started a raging anger within him. She dodged questions, was sassy as shit, and she'd stolen his mask and was now wearing it just to piss him off.

She noticed when his eyebrows furrowed, hinting that he was regaining use of his muscles now. She took a step back but didn't fully retreat just yet, lingering behind for a moment to say something else.

"I thought you would've found another fascination by now. But nope, still obsessed with time, aren't you, Ekko?"

Ekko felt like he'd been abruptly drenched in ice-cold water. She spoke to him as if she knew him.

'Who the fuck is this person?'

His shock was evident on his face, and she immediately picked up on it.

In a blur of movements, he was suddenly standing, the paralysis having worn off by now. Despite his quickness, she had maneuvered out of the way and was now standing on the same ledge she had been sitting on minutes before.

"Who the fuck are you?! Tell me, God dammit!"

She was quiet and unmoving for a few moments, as if she was contemplating something.

"Toodaloo." She waved at him and laughed before disappearing.

He growled and pulled his aeroglider from his back, immediately mounting it and taking to the air. She couldn't have gotten too far. It took him only a few moments to spot her in the distance. She was fast—real fast. But he had his hoverboard, which made him faster. He flew his board in her direction, gaining momentum on her quickly.

He watched as she turned a corner abruptly. He quickly made the sharp turn, about to catch up to her when he was forced to come to a stop. She was gone.

He gained altitude, moving up higher to get a better map of the place. He looked around, but still couldn't find anything. She had quite literally vanished into thin air.

"Fuck!"

Rest of the fanfic can be found here.

[bella-goths-wife]

What if I told you that I was gonna leave the kiss the barrel of my gun softly series where it is and abandon the original ending because everyone seemed happy with it

But then what if I told you I’m strongly considering giving it the original ending I had in mind which is a lot more tragic!

[seewhatpowpowthinks]

can any other jinx fans plz just give me requests im dying of boredom and want to write about jinx !!!!

(wont guarantee ill post it but you can literally request anything)

[alex-thegiraffeboyy]

I wanted to upload the drabble of "gf! Vi x reader moving together" last week, but honestly it was a completely chaotic week, and the start of this week hasn't been much better. So I'll leave you with this preview while I finish the shot (hopefully I'll upload it between today and tomorrow).

[dearaur0ra]

five

silco x fem!oc

tw: blood, sex (vague), violence, mentions of death, cursing, hallucinations

previous masterlist ao3 next (soon)

—

the room was quiet save for the drip of a leaking pipe. i stood in the center, hands clasped behind my back. the dim light twisted my shadow into jagged shapes on the wall. before me, the table was a clutter of ledgers and schematics, topped with a glass of amber liquid that sat untouched.

across from me, the man knelt on the floor, his breathing shallow and stuttering. blood leaked from the gash on his temple, staining his shirt collar. he wasn’t begging yet, though the tears in his eyes told me he was close.

i tilted my head, studying him the way one might examine a bug caught underfoot. “do you have any idea,” i began, my voice a soft rasp, “how fragile all of this is?”

his gaze flicked up to me, trembling, silent. good. fear was starting to take hold.

“my city.” i paced around him slowly, tugging at the knot of my tie as i moved. “it balances on a knife’s edge—power and chaos, order and ambition. the smallest slip, the tiniest crack, and it all comes crashing down.”

his lips quivered. “i... i didn’t mean to—”

i yanked the tie free, cutting his stammer short. “didn’t mean to,” i repeated, wrapping the fabric tightly around my knuckles, pulling it taut. “that’s what the dead tell themselves before the ground swallows them. their intentions don’t matter, and neither do yours.”

he opened his mouth to protest again, but i was already moving.

my fist slammed into his face, the tie softening none of the impact. the sound of bone cracking filled the room, sharp and satisfying. the man crumpled forward, clutching at his nose, but i grabbed him by the back of his collar and dragged him upright.

“look at me,” i snarled. when he didn’t respond fast enough, i struck him again—this time, his cheek split under my knuckles.

his eyes fluttered open, dazed and wet with blood.

“this city doesn’t forgive,” i hissed. “and neither do i.” another punch drove him to the ground. this time, he didn’t try to get back up.

i stood over him, breathing hard, knuckles throbbing beneath the fabric of my tie. the air in the room was heavy with copper and sweat. my hands reach down, looping his neck into the snag of my tie and mimicking the wrap of my one hand to the other.

he attempts to wrestle out of my grip but I pull tight, my knee bending against his spine to hold him still until he chokes himself limp. I drop his body onto the ground with an echoed thud, and glance toward the corner, where sevika leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“get him out of my sight,” i muttered, unwinding the bloodied tie from my hands.

sevika didn’t hesitate. she strode forward, her heavy boots echoing against the concrete, and hauled the man by his underarms.

as the door groaned open, i turned back to the table, picking up the glass. the slam of the door, followed by the brief thump of sevikas boots, didn’t faze me.

the whiskey burned on the way down, a welcome fire in my chest.

“trust,” i murmured, setting the glass down with a deliberate click, “is earned. and broken trust…” i glanced at the blood spattered across the floor, then turn to the table of chem-baron observers, their face washed with fear, “must be punished.”

—

every day. the same time.

there’s a singular clarity in the moment the needle pierces my eye. that sharp, fleeting agony, and then the shimmer seeps in—dulling the constant sting, just for a moment.

i let the metal drop onto the desk with a hollow clink, my hand instinctively clutching my throbbing eye. the agony fades, slowly giving way to peace. my vision steadies as i lean back into the leather chair, breathing through the lingering discomfort.

since vander’s death, the lanes have shifted. their loyalty, their fear—it all belongs to me now. whether it’s out of hope or terror, i couldn’t care less. the shadow i once lived under is gone, buried six feet deep alongside my fears.

betrayal no longer feels like a threat; it’s simply another tool in my arsenal. invincibility, that’s what i feel now. i’ve earned their respect, torn it from their hands with my own.

vander. the so-called hound of the underground.

i know what they say, that we turned on each other. that we tried to kill one another. and they’re right. but the difference between us? i finished the job.

and jinx. poor, broken jinx.

i’ve built a home for her, one where people respect her, fear her. she’s everything i once wished i could have been. everything i’ve become. no one will take that from me again. no one.

a knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts.

it swings open, and sevika strides in, dragging jinx by the fabric of her sleeve. sevika looks worn, frayed at the edges in a way that only someone living through this city’s rot can.

jinx, by contrast, looks pleased. smug, even.

“she’s been busy,” sevika says, her tone clipped.

jinx pulls free from her grasp with a laugh, tossing something small and metallic onto my desk. “you’re welcome,” she says, a grin spreading across her face.

i glance down at the object. a detonator.

“and this is?”

“proof,” jinx replies, leaning casually against the edge of the desk. “proof that they’re listening. they’re always listening. but not anymore.”

sevika crosses her arms, watching jinx with equal parts annoyance and begrudging respect. i can see the irritation etched in her face, the frustration of having to corral someone so chaotic. but even she can’t deny the results.

“a factory in piltover,” sevika says, “a big one. or it was. until she got creative.”

jinx’s eyes flash with pride as she waits for my reaction.

i pick up the detonator, turning it over in my hands. small, simple. effective.

“you made sure there were no witnesses?” i ask, keeping my voice calm, measured.

jinx tilts her head, her grin unwavering. “witnesses don’t talk when they’re ash.”

there’s a flicker of something in her gaze, a mixture of glee and defiance. it’s a dangerous balance, one i know all too well.

i set the detonator down and meet her eyes. “good. but don’t get careless. even ash leaves traces.”

her grin falters for a moment, but she nods.

“that’s all,” i say, dismissing sevika with a wave of my hand.

she hesitates, glancing between me and jinx before stepping out of the room.

jinx lingers, fidgeting with one of the many trinkets she always seems to have on her.

“you’re proud of me,” she says, not quite a question, not quite a statement.

i don’t answer immediately. instead, i study her, the girl who’s both my greatest weapon and my greatest risk.

“you did well,” i say finally.

her grin returns, wider this time, as she skips out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her, and for a moment, the silence returns.

i lean back in my chair, fingers brushing the edge of the detonator. the weight of it feels heavier than it should.

she’s everything i’ve worked for. everything i’ve fought to protect.

but there’s a fire in her, wild and untamed. and fires, when left unchecked, can burn everything down.

—

shimmer production has tripled in the past two months. tooth and nail, people claw for it—scavenging like rats for a reprieve from this hell. it’s their escape. their hope. and one day, they won’t need it. one day, i won’t need it.

the chemists stand before me, faces tight with forced calm. pride and unease flicker across their expressions like shadows in a dying light. i tolerate their pride; their unease, i cultivate.

“production is ahead of schedule,” one of them stammers, a wiry man with shaking hands, no doubt sampling his own supply. “we’ve optimized the process, cut down on waste—"

“waste?” i cut in, my voice even, cold. the word hangs heavy, seeping into the air like poison. “there’s no such thing as waste when it comes to shimmer. every ounce has its purpose, even if you don’t see it.”

he nods quickly, looking to the others for reassurance, but none meet his gaze.

“good,” i continue, leaning back in my chair, fingers steepled beneath my chin. “because the moment you lose sight of its purpose, you become a liability. and liabilities…” i trail off, the silence finishing the thought for me.

the air thickens, heavy with unsaid truths.

a woman with sharp eyes and a steady voice steps forward. “we’ve also improved distribution. piltover’s docks are more secure than ever. fewer enforcer sweeps, higher yield.”

i allow the faintest ghost of a smile. “you’ve exceeded my expectations. for now.”

relief flashes briefly in their eyes, but i don’t let them linger in the illusion of comfort.

“double the output,” i say, standing. the words strike like a hammer. “if any of you think that’s impossible, you’re free to walk out that door and never come back. but if you stay—know this: failure is not an option. not for you. not for me. zaun’s future depends on shimmer. on us.”

they don’t move. their silence is answer enough.

i turn to leave but pause at the door. “singed, stay.”

the head chemist inclines his head, his expression unreadable behind the veil of his mask.

the others file out quickly, their footsteps fading down the corridor. the room feels larger in the silence that follows, the hum of equipment filling the void.

“what is it, silco?” singed’s voice is calm, clinical, but there’s an edge beneath it—a sharpness honed by years of working in the shadows.

i study him for a moment, the man who has built the foundation of shimmer with his own hands. the man who understands its potential—and its dangers—better than anyone.

“are they lying to me?” i ask, my voice low, measured.

singed tilts his head slightly, considering. “no. production is ahead of schedule. they’re more capable than you give them credit for.”

“capable doesn’t mean loyal.”

his silence is telling.

i step closer, the faint glow of the shimmer vials on the shelves casting eerie patterns across the room. “you’ve seen what happens when ambition outweighs caution. the first misstep, the first failure—it spreads like a disease. i won’t allow it.”

“you’re not here to talk about failure,” singed says, his tone cutting through the tension like a scalpel.

he’s right. i never am.

“the formula,” i say. “you’re still refining it.”

“always,” he replies, his gaze unwavering.

“then tell me why the latest batch was weaker. why it didn’t last.”

he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate. “a miscalculation. one of the newer chemists—”

“your chemist,” i interrupt.

“—corrected it,” he finishes smoothly. “the next batch will be stronger. more stable.”

“stability isn’t enough,” i say, my voice dropping to a near whisper. “we need more than that. shimmer has to be... undeniable. addictive. it’s the lifeblood of the lanes now, but piltover’s rats will want their taste soon enough. when they come sniffing, it has to consume them.”

“addiction is already part of its design,” he says.

“make it stronger.”

singed regards me carefully, his sharp mind calculating. “there’s risk in pushing it too far. the human body has limits.”

“then they’ll adapt,” i snap. “this isn’t about limits. it’s about control. shimmer isn’t just a drug. it’s power. and power doesn’t settle for moderation.”

he doesn’t argue, but his silence feels heavier than words.

“you can do it,” i say, more softly now.

“of course,” he replies, almost to himself.

i nod, satisfied, and turn to leave. but before i step through the door, i glance back.

“you understand what’s at stake, singed. for all of us.”

his mask hides his expression, but his voice is steady. “always.”

the door shuts behind me, the faint hum of his machines following me down the corridor.

the door creaked as i nudged it open, the dim light from the hallway slicing through the shadows in her room. she was on the floor again, surrounded by her endless creations, scraps of metal, wires, and tools scattered like an unspoken language only she understood.

“jinx,” i said, stepping inside, the weight of the day still heavy on my shoulders.

she didn’t look up, her fingers busy rewiring some contraption that sparked faintly in her grasp.

“what?” she muttered, her voice sharp but distracted.

i ignored her tone, crouching beside her. “it’s late. you should be in bed.”

“so should you,” she shot back, her eyes flicking up briefly before returning to the mess in her hands. “but you’re not.”

a faint smile tugged at the corner of my lips, but it didn’t last. “i’m not the one who needs sleep.”

her hands paused for a second, the spark dying with a faint click. “neither am i,” she said, almost too softly to hear.

i reached out, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face. the gesture felt awkward, unnatural, but her hair was a wild tangle, and something about it made me want to fix just one thing in this chaos.

she flinched, her eyes darting to my hand.

“what happened?” she asked, her gaze narrowing on the knuckles of my right hand, faintly bruised beneath the skin.

i drew it back quickly, wrapping my fingers into a loose fist. the tie had been enough to shield the worst of it, but not enough to fool her.

“nothing you need to worry about,” i said, standing before she could pry further.

“it’s something, though,” she pressed, her voice carrying a stubborn edge.

i sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. “some things are better left unsaid. go to bed, jinx.”

she frowned but didn’t argue, climbing into the bed shoved into the far corner of the room.

“you’re always like this,” she mumbled, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

“like what?”

“hiding stuff. thinking i can’t handle it.”

i hesitated, my hand on the doorframe.

“it’s not about handling it,” i said quietly, not turning to look at her. “it’s about not needing to.”

she didn’t respond, the faint hum of her breathing slowing as she drifted into sleep.

i lingered for a moment longer, the bruises on my hand aching with a dull throb.

then i turned, shutting the door softly behind me.

—

her head lifts, and our eyes meet. tears shimmer, barely restrained, her expression stripped bare. then, without warning, she leans into me, her arms circling my shoulders.

the embrace steals my breath. for a moment, i’m motionless, unprepared for her closeness. her warmth. her trust. but instinct—or desperation—pushes me to hold her, my arms locking around her as though she’s the last solid thing in a crumbling world.

her voice trembles against my chest, muffled but piercing. “you can disappear again after this, silco. i just… i just need this one moment. just this one.”

the words carve into me, sharp and unforgiving. she expects me to vanish—assumes i’ll leave her again. maybe she’s right. maybe i’ve given her every reason to think so. but i can’t bring myself to confirm her fears.

“i’m not going anywhere,” i rasp, the words rough in my throat. “not tonight.”

she shifts, her arms loosening, her posture tilting ever so slightly away. the subtle distance between us claws at me, quiet but unbearable.

i reach for her hand, my fingers brushing hers. “stay with me,” i whisper, voice soft but urgent.

her gaze snaps to mine, a storm of emotions swirling in her eyes—longing, pain, doubt. “i can’t,” she breathes. the words slice me open. “my family… they need me. they’d never forgive me. for…”

she doesn’t finish, but i know.

“for being with me,” i finish bitterly, the truth a weight in my chest. her silence is answer enough.

“i’ll leave it all,” i say, leaning closer, my voice shaking now. “zaun, the fighting, the power—if it means keeping you, mercy, i’ll walk away.”

she flinches as if struck, her expression hardening—a shield against my desperation. “that’s the problem, silco,” she says, trembling. “you destroy everything. i can’t be part of that.”

her words are a knife. they twist and dig deeper than anything else could. my breath catches, a sharp pain spreading through my chest.

“i need you,” i say, barely more than a whisper. vulnerability seeps into my voice, raw and desperate. “now more than ever.”

she tilts her head, her wide, tearful eyes locking on mine. “i know,” she says softly, her voice breaking.

but something shifts. her expression twists—hurt, agony—and her breathing quickens.

and suddenly, i’m not beside her anymore.

i’m a crowd away.

the rain comes first, cold and unrelenting. it soaks me to the bone as voices rise around me, muffled, chaotic. vander’s voice cuts through, sharp and thunderous.

“you stood by and did nothing!” his rage shakes the air, reverberating in my chest.

her eyes—so full of panic—find mine through the crowd. she tries to stay calm, but the cracks show. fear bleeds through. a forced reassurance to vander. a pleading glance at me.

i scream his name. “vander! stop!” my voice feels distant, swallowed by the rain.

pain explodes behind my left eye, sharp and blinding. blood drips down, hot and sticky. my vision blurs, his figure mutating above me. a knife glints in the dim light. his scream. her scream.

did she scream? did she cry?

i don’t know.

“please,” i beg, my voice raw. “please, vander…”

cold water rushes into my mouth, my lungs. over and over, i’m drowning.

“you’re the one she chose,” vander’s voice growls, echoing in the darkness. “and you killed her.”

“i know!” i scream back, my voice hoarse. but i’m not in the water anymore.

i’m in the crowd.

bodies shove past me, faceless shadows rushing for the door. i fight against them, desperate to push through. to reach her. to see her one last time.

“rebellion is a disease,” a voice rasps in the distance, cold and clinical. “and like any disease, it must be eradicated.”

the words repeat. over and over, the tone flat and merciless.

rain. water. blood. it floods my head, suffocating me.

i shake from the cold, gripping my head in my hands. my knees buckle. the world blurs, fractures—

a shot rings,

and then i’m awake.

cold sweat drenches me, the taste of iron lingering in my mouth. my chest heaves, breaths coming fast and shallow as i sit upright, trembling.

i’m not in the crowd. or the bar. or the water.

i’m home.

but the fear doesn’t leave. my hands won’t stop shaking.

and her voice lingers, haunting the edges of my mind.

her scream won’t stop. it clings to me, a shadow that gnaws at the edges of my sanity. my hands shake, tremors coursing through them as if they belong to someone else. weak. pathetic. i press my palms to my thighs, forcing them still, but the shaking only intensifies.

the room feels too close, like the walls are pressing in. every breath is a struggle, dragging through my throat as though i’m drowning all over again.

move.

i swing my legs over the edge of the bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor. the sharp chill bites, grounding me just enough to push myself upright. my legs wobble beneath me. weakness again. my own body betraying me.

my fingers find the glass of water on the bedside table, but my grip falters. the glass wavers, spilling over my lips and down my chin. i slam it back onto the table, harder than i mean to, the sound sharp and accusing in the silence.

useless.

the bathroom door creaks open under my hand. inside, the stark light overhead sears into my skull. it’s too bright, too real, but i force myself forward.

my reflection waits for me in the mirror. i almost don’t want to look, but i do.

what stares back at me isn’t a man. it’s a hollow thing, eaten away from the inside. the scars around my eye are raw, angry, as if it remembers too. but it’s the eyes—my eye—that’s the worst.

wide, bloodshot. terrified.

pathetic.

i lean forward, gripping the edges of the sink so hard my knuckles ache. the cold porcelain bites into my palms, a dull, grounding ache.

the faucet squeals as i turn it, water rushing out in a steady stream. i plunge my hands beneath it, the cold biting and sharp.

then i bring it to my face.

the icy shock hits like a slap. i gasp, the chill cutting through the fog in my mind. again, and again, until the cold is all i feel.

but even as the water drips from my face, pooling in the sink, her voice is still there. her scream. her eyes.

weak.

my grip tightens on the sink, nails biting into the porcelain.

i grab the towel from the rack, dragging it over my face. the roughness scratches against my skin, grounding me just enough to stand. but when i lower the towel, my reflection catches my eye again.

this is what she saw.

a man too weak to hold his ground. too blind to see the end coming. too desperate to keep her close and too reckless to protect her when it mattered most.

i turn the faucet off, the silence roaring in my ears.

for a long moment, i just stand there, staring at the droplets of water trailing down the sink.

this is what failure looks like.

the bathroom light goes dark as i flick the switch, plunging the room into shadow again. but the darkness feels heavier, weighted with all the things i couldn’t do.

i don’t go back to bed. i can’t.

instead, i stand in the doorway, staring at the empty room, the cold pressing into my skin.

this is what weakness costs.

i turn to leave. fresh air may do me some good, though it’s dense and polluted, anywhere is better than here.

—

the cigarette burns in my hand, the ember lighting a dim path ahead of me. my steps feel automatic, one after the other, leading nowhere in particular.

the air is thick—stale and sour with the grime of the city—but it’s better than the suffocating weight of that room. i don’t know where i’m going. i don’t care. every step is meant to drown out the roar in my head, to dull the echoes of her voice, her eyes, her screams.

when i pass the brothel, i don’t stop. i’ve walked this path before, countless times, and the whistles, the calls—they barely register anymore. they’re just part of the noise.

but then i see her.

it’s the hair that catches me first. long, soft waves the color of rich chestnut, tumbling down her back. and then she turns.

hazel eyes, warm and sharp, cut through the haze of smoke and shadow.

my breath catches.

it’s not her. i know that. it can’t be her. but for one maddening moment, the ache in my chest dulls, replaced by something sharp and dangerous. hope.

she waves me closer, her movements slow and deliberate, her lips curling into a practiced smile. her clothing clings to her curves, worn to seduce, to draw in the desperate and the lonely.

and i am both.

my feet hesitate, caught in the pull of her gaze. she isn’t mercy. i know that. but something in the way she looks at me—something about her—makes it easy to forget, just for a moment.

i could walk away. i should walk away.

but i don’t.

instead, i move toward her, each step heavy with shame and need.

her smile widens as i draw near, her voice low and smooth. "you look like you could use a distraction."

the words hang in the air, sweet and simple, but they’re not what i hear. not really. i hear something that doesn’t exist—her voice, soft and unguarded, breaking through the chaos in my mind.

i nod, the gesture automatic, my body moving before my thoughts catch up.

she turns, leading me inside, her steps light and confident. the sway of her hips, the soft curve of her silhouette, the way her hair catches the dim glow of the undercity—all of it feels like a cruel imitation, a shallow echo of something i can’t name.

the hallway is narrow, the light flickering above like it could die at any moment. the scent of perfume lingers in the air, cloying and heavy.

she opens a door, gestures me inside, and i step through without hesitation. the room is small, the bed unmade, the walls covered in peeling paint.

she closes the door behind us, her movements fluid, rehearsed. her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, i falter.

this is wrong.

but wrong feels like the only thing left.

her hands touch my chest, and i exhale, my breath ragged.

"you alright?" her voice is soft, her eyes searching mine.

for a moment, the lines blur. the edges of reality and memory smudge together. her voice becomes mercy’s. her touch becomes hers.

and i let it.

i fucking let it.

—

her nails pierced into my back, reddening and worsening as I picked up the pace. her head fell back in pleasure with a whine as I adjusted her hips against mine.

i would be lying if i claimed it wasn’t good. in truth, it was exquisite—a fleeting reprieve that bordered on intoxicating, however undeserved. the air lingered in the stench of sex, a real and suffocating haze. my forehead began to bead of sweat, exhaustion brewing within from an ever growing lack of sleep.

i was chasing something. someone.

her words clogged in her throat while her fingers threaded through my hair with a deliberate slowness as though testing the fragile boundary between comfort and intrusion. the sensation was grounding, almost maddening in its intimacy, her touch lingering like a whisper against the chaos of my thoughts. a groan fell from my lips. the sight of her lidded eyes and parted lips resonated deep inside me.

the thing about whores is, they don't tell you when they're close. they're payed not to. but I wanted to hear it.

I needed to hear it.

she was pressed so close to me that it felt as though the boundaries between us had dissolved, intertwining in a way that made the moment feel almost surreal. the warmth of her body against mine, the rhythm of her breath, the rolling of her hips slipping me in deeper. it doesn't feel real.

her eyes lock with mine, a fleeting moment of recognition that feels both grounding and distant. but as quickly as they meet, they dissolve into a shimmer with an intensity that borders on overwhelming, a haunting blend with a quiet, devastating clarity that threatens to unravel everything i’ve tried to bury. her moans become lighter, breathier, as she reaches her climax.

all I see is mercy.

i can’t do this.

i lower my head, pressing into the hollow where her neck meets her shoulder, her skin warm and inviting against mine. but the moment feels fragile, hollow—its promise fleeting. i withdraw, slipping out of her heat, the absence already gnawing at the edges of my resolve.

hovering above her, i catch the faint crease of concern in her expression. she says nothing, but her eyes linger, questioning.

i push myself away from the bed, the faint chill of the air a stark contrast to the warmth i’m leaving behind. no explanation escapes my lips. words would be redundant here—pointless. instead, i turn my attention to the scattered remnants of my clothing, gathering them with sharp, purposeful movements.

she shifts onto her side, her form unashamedly languid, the curve of her hips a calculated display. “what’s the matter, mister?” she asks, her smile coy, though there’s an edge to her voice that betrays genuine curiosity.

i remain silent, focused on my task. the weight in my chest tightens, an unwelcome reminder of why i allowed myself here in the first place.

my trousers come second, tugged on hastily over my boxers, the buttons left neglected. my shirt follows—a half-hearted attempt at decency as i fasten only the middle few buttons.

“you don’t strike me as the shy sort,” she muses, rolling onto her stomach. her legs sway lazily, an air of amusement in her movements.

i retrieve the coins from my vest pocket, the weight of them cold in my hand. they clink against the surface of the nightstand as i drop them, a more than adequate amount for what this exchange has cost.

“my apologies for wasting your time.” i say, my tone measured yet distant.

she offers a soft laugh, indifferent yet biting in its dismissal. “you were a good fuck while it lasted. shame you’re leaving so soon.” her gaze lingers, assessing, but i meet it briefly before returning to the task of straightening my cuffs.

she stretches, unbothered by my detachment. “when you’re ready for another round, come find me. i’d love to see the look on your face again when you finish.”

her words strike at my composure like a careless blade. i offer no reply.

she rises as i step toward the door, her movements fluid and deliberate. before i can cross the threshold, she leans in, pressing a kiss to my cheek—a fleeting gesture, calculated, but not without warmth.

“goodbye, mystery man,” she murmurs, her voice trailing after me as i pull the door closed behind me.

the hallway is dim, the flickering lights casting fractured shadows along the walls. the air feels heavy, stagnant—a mix of cheap perfume and sweat clinging to the narrow corridor.

i descend the steps quickly, each one a deliberate motion, as if putting distance between us could somehow quiet the dissonance in my mind.

but the streets outside are no better. the damp, acrid air of the undercity greets me, laced with the stench of rot and neglect. the muted buzz of life surrounds me—voices rising and falling, bartering, arguing, laughing—but it all fades into a muffled hum.

i light a cigarette, the ember flaring briefly as the smoke fills my lungs. each inhale feels like a reprieve, albeit a fleeting one.

i came here tonight seeking distraction, a momentary escape. instead, her voice is louder now, as though this futile attempt to forget has only sharpened its edges.

mercy.

the name claws at me.

the memory unfurls against my will—her eyes, wide and fierce, the faint tremble of her lips as she smiled through grief she never allowed herself to show.

and then the way her body fell, limp and lifeless, as her breath fled her.

the cigarette burns down to the filter, heat grazing my fingertips. i drop it to the ground, grinding the ember underfoot.

the streets blur around me as i move, my steps steady but aimless.

the city stretches endlessly ahead, its filth and desperation a reflection of my own inadequacies. no matter how far i go, i can’t escape her. and as i disappear into the shadows, the only certainty is that i’ll keep walking until they swallow me entirely.

—

i move through the halls, slow and deliberate, like i’m carrying the weight of a thousand promises. every piece of this house, every choice i’ve made, it’s all for her.

i reach her door and pause for a second, a breath caught in my chest. the room is dim, lit by the soft flicker of a lamp on her bedside table. the walls are covered in her mess—scribbles in pink and blue, wild and untamed, much like her mind. i’ve never minded it. it’s hers. it’s what she needs.

i stand there in the doorway, watching her sleep. she’s curled up under her blanket, clutching that old stuffed animal like it’s the only thing left in the world that makes sense. she looks peaceful, but i know better. peace doesn’t last for long. not for her. not for me.

i move quietly, sitting beside her bed, careful not to wake her. i study her face—those soft features that still carry the innocence of the girl she once was. it’s hard to believe sometimes, when i look at her, that she’s been through all she has.

“jinx,” i whisper, my voice barely a sound in the stillness. “i’ll keep you safe. always. no one will ever hurt you again.”

my fingers move to brush her hair, gentle like i’m afraid i’ll break something if i touch her too hard. it’s a softness i don’t show often, but for her, i can. “you don’t have to be afraid anymore. not here. not with me.”

the promise is heavy in my chest, more real than anything i’ve ever made. i can’t fail her. i won’t. she’s all i have left, all that matters now.

“you’re mine now, jinx,” i murmur, the words feeling strange on my tongue but true all the same. “and i’ll never let anyone take you from me.”

i sit there for a while, watching her, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing. there’s something calming about it. in her sleep, she’s still my reason for all this. i could lose everything else, but i can’t lose her.

“sleep well, little one,” i say softly, just a breath in the dark before i stand. i take one last look at her, the girl who has become more than just a broken piece of the past.

and as i walk away, i let myself believe—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, i’ll be enough to protect her from the world that has already taken so much from both of us.

—

three years future

the office reeks of smoke, the heavy air lit by the dim orange glow of the stained-glass window. i lean over the desk, shuffling through reports, though my attention falters with every passing minute.

the door creaks open behind me.

“what is it, sevika?” i say without looking up.

she steps inside, the sound of her boots sharp against the floor. there’s an unusual weight to her movements, hesitation that’s unlike her.

“you’re going to want to hear this,” she says, her voice low, steady but strained.

i straighten, finally turning to face her. “then speak.”

“vi’s alive.”

the words hit like a fist to the gut, knocking the air from my lungs. i blink, once, twice, the name lingering in the quiet.

“alive,” i echo, disbelief threading through my voice.

sevika nods, her face grim. “spotted her in the lanes with two others—a young enforcer and a woman.”

i move around the desk, closing the distance between us. “you’re certain it’s her?”

“i saw her myself,” she says, her tone heavy. “same hair, same fists. she’s older, rougher, but it’s vi.”

for a moment, the room feels smaller, the air thinner. vi. the girl i’d thought long gone, another chapter buried beneath years of power plays and battles.

“and the others?” i ask, grounding myself in the present.

“the enforcer’s sticking close to her,” sevika says, her voice thick with disdain. “a piltie, young, armed, and not shy about showing it. and the woman...” she hesitates, her brows knitting. “she’s... hard to read. moves like she knows the lanes, but no one recognizes her.”

“so, they’re making themselves known,” i say, my tone sharpening.

“they’re asking questions,” she says. “about shimmer. about you. and they’re not subtle.”

i step back, pacing to the window. the city stretches below me, a restless sea of flickering lights and shifting shadows.

“send out the men,” i say after a moment. “i want them found.”

“and when they are?” sevika asks, though there’s no mistaking the answer in my tone.

“kill them,” i say coldly.

there’s a pause. sevika doesn’t move. when i glance at her, her face is tight, unsettled.

“it’s vi,” she says, the words quiet but pointed.

“and it doesn’t matter,” i reply, my voice firm. “not anymore.”

she stares at me for a moment longer, then nods and turns toward the door.

just before she leaves, she stops. “jinx doesn’t know, does she?”

the name pulls at something buried deep, but i shove it down.

“no,” i say. “and she won’t.”

sevika nods again, lingering only a second before leaving.

the door clicks shut behind her, and i’m alone once more. my fingers curl into fists, the silence in the room amplifying the steady drum of my heartbeat.

vi alive. the thought churns in my mind, unease settling like a stone in my gut.

and the woman. who is she? what does she want?

questions for another time. for now, the only answer is power. and i won’t let them take what i’ve built.

—

the apartment is modest, the kind of place where every creak of the floorboards tells a story. i step over the threshold, surveying the small living room cluttered with toys. it smells faintly of soup left on the stove too long. my men follow, silent shadows, positioning themselves near the walls like they belong there.

a little girl, all fiery red hair and wide, curious eyes, stares up at me from the floor where she’s building a shaky tower of blocks.

“hello there,” i say smoothly, crouching to her level. she eyes me, wary but intrigued, clutching one of the blocks to her chest.

“what’s your name?” i ask.

she hesitates, then mumbles, “wren.”

“wren,” i repeat, tasting the name on my tongue. “a lovely name for such a clever girl. do you mind if i join you?”

she glances at the door as if seeking permission, but her father isn’t home. with a small nod, she gestures to the blocks, and i take a seat on the floor beside her.

we work in silence, her small hands deftly stacking the pieces as i place mine deliberately, carefully. her gaze flickers to the scar on my face, but she doesn’t ask. children rarely do.

the sound of hurried footsteps echoes down the hallway outside, and then the door bursts open.

“wren!”

marcus freezes in the doorway, his face pale as he takes in the scene before him: his daughter sitting calmly beside me, my men looming behind us.

“ah, about time daddy joined us,” i say, not bothering to rise. “you were so busy, little wren here saw me in.”

“let’s talk outside,” marcus says, his voice tight, his eyes darting nervously between me and the men.

i pick up another block, balancing it precariously atop the tower. “can’t you see we’re playing?” i say without looking up. “you remember our old friend vi, don’t you? vander’s daughter?”

marcus shifts uncomfortably, but he doesn’t answer.

“she was about your age,” i continue, my voice soft, conversational. “her father went on a long trip, and daddy here assured me that she left with him. but it seems she never made it. isn’t that sad?” i glance at wren, who looks up at me with innocent confusion. “could you imagine being separated from your father?”

marcus’s jaw tightens. “she’s in a safe place,” he says finally.

i place another block on the tower, my hand steady. “she’s in the lanes,” i say evenly.

“that’s not possible,” marcus snaps.

“oh, but it is,” i reply. “and she’s not alone. there’s an enforcer with her—a girl, roughly the same age. apparently, there’s a woman with them too.”

his face pales further. “caitlyn,” he mutters. “she’s a kiramman. just like them. she does whatever she wants. i can’t control her.”

i set the last block down, the tower teetering but still standing. “then of what use are you?”

marcus’s shoulders slump, and he stammers, “i’ll track her down. i can fix this. please.”

i rise slowly, smoothing out my coat. “everyone makes mistakes, marcus. what’s important is that we don’t repeat them.” i take a step toward him, lowering my voice. “my people are tracking vi and this caitlyn. they cannot be allowed to resurface. do we understand each other?”

he nods stiffly, his face drawn with fear.

satisfied, i turn back to wren, who watches me with wide eyes. i crouch down again, reaching for the tower we built. with a flick of my wrist, it topples over, blocks scattering across the floor.

wren gasps, her little hands clutching the hem of her dress.

“oops,” i say with a chuckle, glancing back at marcus, whose face is etched with barely concealed terror. “accidents happen.”

without another word, i rise and motion to my men. as we leave, i hear wren’s small voice behind me.

“daddy?”

the door clicks shut, and the night air greets us, cold and quiet.

we step into the streets, the uneven cobblestones slick with grime and rain. my men flank me, silent as always, their boots echoing faintly in the oppressive quiet of the lanes. the shadows stretch long, twisting and curling like smoke, and the dim light of flickering street lamps does little to banish the darkness.

my mind lingers on marcus’s face, the fear there, the tremble in his voice as he pleaded. i’ve seen it a hundred times, maybe more. but it still never quite satisfies, never fills the space left hollow by the years.

i glance sideways, catching movement ahead—a figure walking toward us. the air catches in my throat.

her stride is slow, deliberate, her head down, as if trying to avoid notice. but even in the dim light, i can see her. the same sharp cheekbones, the curve of her jaw, the way her dark hair falls to frame her face.

i stop dead in my tracks.

my men falter, confused, but i barely notice them.

it can’t be.

it isn’t.

she’s gone.

my fingers twitch at my sides as the figure draws closer. when she passes, the faint scent of oil and lavender clings to the air. i know it well.

too well.

the figure pulls up her hood as she nears, obscuring her face, and dips into a narrow alley without looking back. i turn to watch, my eyes glued to her retreating form, the way her shoulders hunch against the cold, the way she seems to melt into the shadows.

“boss?” sevika’s voice is low, hesitant.

i don’t answer.

she’s gone.

i know she’s gone.

and yet... everywhere i look, i see her.

i take a step toward the alley, then stop myself. my breath fogs in the air, heavy and uneven.

“just a trick of the mind,” i mutter under my breath, though the words feel hollow.

my hands curl into fists as i turn sharply, brushing past sevika and the others without another word. the mission is clear. vi, caitlyn, the woman with them—they’re the priority.

but the image of that face lingers, burned into my mind. a ghost. nothing more.

and yet, as i walk on, i can’t shake the feeling that the shadows are watching me.

-

taglist:

@lilyreira @we-are-here-as-well @ml8126

[stormycs15]

⸻ Topside, Male Oc x Reader ⸻

chapter one: (Everywhere the light touches)

characters: female reader, Vi, Powder, Mylo, Claggor, enforcers

genre: fanfiction, Arcane season 1

summary: Life has been hard for you're friends and family in the Lanes. Doing odd jobs to get by is second nature for you, but will one job topside really change your lives?

word count: 2496

Previous / Next

Your POV

I held onto the pipe I was climbing, my hands sweaty as I tried with all my strength to pull myself up. The pipe groaned under the weight I was placing on it. I swallowed, rethinking this idea. Once I reached a good position, I turned and looked around with hesitant eyes. I had to squint to see the extravagant town in front of us, since it was a bright and sunny day. Looking down, I noticed it seemed higher than I thought it would. Vi was taking us so high, and I was newer to this, so I felt like my actions were very clumsy and slow. But that didn't stop me. I looked up slightly, meeting Violet's eyes. She nodded down at me. I pursed my lips and hoisted myself up some more, gaining some confidence.

“We are almost there, come on.” She grunted at everyone, trying to encourage them, and I followed her gaze, looking down at the three underneath me: Powder, Mylo, and Claggor. They all seemed to be struggling to climb the vertical building. I just returned my thoughts to climbing up the pipe with ease.

“Aw, man!” I could hear Mylo groan, not the happiest about this situation. I quickly ignored his complaining and followed Violet up the rest of the wall. I reached the ledge, pulling myself up with strained lungs. I got to my feet, looking in awe at Piltover. My breaths were heavy from the climb.

“Woah.” I could hear Powder say from next to me, making me look over and give her a small smile as she returned it. We barely got to see the top side.

“It’s nice to get above it all, huh,” Violet says as my attention turns back to the clean trees and buildings that lay in front of us like an entirely different world. As everyone got up onto the roof, a large blimp flew past us. I looked at the view in complete awe.

“One day I am going to ride one of those things,” Powder says under her breath in a determined tone. I looked at her with a smile, I knew how much she was infatuated with seeing the new world, as much as I was. I probably fed her fantasy a bit since I told her the stories my father told me. I placed my hand in her hair, ruffling her blue locks.

“And one day I’m going to shoot one down,” Mylo says, pointing a finger gun at it as if to shoot it down. But I just roll my eyes, pushing his arm down silently. My attention was brought to Claggor as he looked over Piltover nervously. We weren’t supposed to be topside… Vandor made that very clear. Calyx wouldn’t be happy either, more because we didn’t invite him.

“Vi, you sure about this? If we get caught…” Claggor starts to say, and I turn to her with a hesitant nod, not liking the plan, because it would be more than just Vandor mad at me.

“We aren’t going to get caught. We will be in and out before anyone even notices. We have [y/n] after all.” She says, going to the edge of the building, looking for the town square, trying to figure out where we were in terms of finding out our jobs location. I gave a nervous sigh, letting it get lost in the strong winds that were flowing over the buildings. Violet looks to me with a nod, and I step forward, eyeing all of the possible paths on the way to our destination.

"How long is this going to take? I'm hungry," I hear Mylo say from behind me. After another second passes, I point in the direction of the town square, already having a path in mind. I turn to Violet for her approval, and she nods at me.

"Alright then, everyone, follow [y/n]... and just don't look down," she says as I jump into action, sliding down the roof onto an apartment balcony. I stand on the poles of the balcony railing and motion for them to come one at a time. Violet comes down first, leaping over the gap with no problem. I turn, seeing Claggor about to slide down, but Mylo brushes past him with a smirk, making Claggor roll his eyes and follow right behind. By the time Mylo lands on one side, Claggor lands right next to him, cupcake in mouth.

"Couldn't we have just walked?" I hear Claggor ask from the other side of the gap.

"Gotta stay out of sight for this one," Violet says, looking back over at us. I am trying to get Powder to go next in case she falls; maybe I could save her. But she is just looking down and taking deep breaths.

"Called it! This is on you, Vi," Mylo says, referring to Powder, and I glare over at the male.

"[y/n] can carry her over," Claggor says, motioning to me, but Violet holds up her hand.

"No. Powder, look at me! What did I tell you... you're ready. So you got this." she says, looking at me, and I nod at her as Powder starts to get ready to jump off the roof. Keeping herself up with a small gasp, jumping over with ease, she gets to the other side, only to come up shorter than the rest. I could see Violet's eyes go wide, reaching her hand out, but I sprang into action and leaped over, catching Powder before she could fall backward. She looks up at my taller self, giving me a thankful smile. Us three girls sigh in relief.

"Thanks," I hear her say, regaining her balance as we turn to the others. I just nod. As we walk, I could see Mylo rolling his eyes at Powder and me. I reach my hand out, shoving him back, making it so he was walking behind Claggor. He was starting to get on my nerves. I start to lead them by shimmying along the edge of the rooftop. I focus on keeping my back glued to the wall, leading the others.

"What if Vandor finds out we are all the way up here?" Claggor asks, earning a few looks from the rest of us silently agreeing with his concern. I just keep moving, knowing if I stopped now, I would definitely turn back. I hear Violet sigh, annoyed, so I keep my mouth shut.

"Look around! Do you think anyone topside is going hungry? Besides, this is exactly the kind of job Vandor would have pulled at our age. He is probably sending Cal on missions like these. I'm going. Are you with me or not?" she asks, stopping and turning to look at them. I look down, not wanting to look at the others. I could hear no protests, so I stood my ground from the front as she took up the back.

"Vandor's going to kill us," Claggor says behind me. I nod at his comment. Even if this mission goes well, we're bound to get a good lecture from the man himself.

"Only if we screw up… So don't screw up," she says with a stern look before turning to me and nodding. I return the gesture and lean forward, catching myself as I land on the balcony below us. I peer through the doors and listen… it seems no one's been home.

"All clear," I signal to the others, indicating it's safe to hop down. They descend one by one. Mylo, eager to get to work, tries the door but finds the handle won't budge.

"Who locks their balcony?" he asks, pulling out a lockpick and getting to work. I turn to help Vi with the rest of our team. Claggor and I glance over the railing, exchanging frowns.

"There are a lot of enforcers down there," he says. I nod, scanning for possible escape routes.

"That means we're in the right place," Violet remarks. She turns to Mylo, "You going to get that door open anytime soon?"

"Working on it," Mylo says, aggravated. I remain quiet, not wanting to add pressure. "Seeing as I'm the only one who knows how to pick locks, I suggest—" But before Mylo can finish, Violet strides forward and kicks the door open. Mylo flinches, startled by her sudden action. Claggor brushes past him as he follows Violet into the apartment, with Powder close behind.

"Animals…" Mylo grumbles, turning to me. Seeing my outstretched hand, he reluctantly takes it. I help pull him up before we enter ourselves. I glance around, furrowing my brows—this place seems fancy, but everything's arranged in a chaotic order. Everyone soon disperses, exploring the room.

"You know, Claggor, for once you're right. We are definitely not supposed to be here," Mylo says with a mischievous grin. He admires the place, greedily rubbing his hands together before examining some gadgets. I scan the bookshelves but find nothing interesting. Spotting a few gadgets on a small table, I examine them briefly before tossing them into the bag in the middle of the room.

"Must be an inventor," Vi muses. I turn to see a huge chalkboard covered in equations and blueprints. Squinting, I try to make sense of it all. On the desk beside the chalkboard, I notice a book and pick it up, flipping through its pages.

"This man is either crazy or a genius," I mutter, struggling to decipher the scribbled hypotheses and outcomes.

"Whoa, I think this is a real Valdiani," Powder exclaims excitedly. I look over to see her holding a small object that opens and plays a delicate jingle. Gently closing the book in my hands—but not letting go—I approach her to admire the intricate invention.

"Oh yeah? What about this?" Mylo asks with a smirk, brandishing another gadget he clearly thinks is valuable.

"That's a nose hair trimmer," I say with a giggle as Mylo's face falls at my words.

"Keep an eye out for anything valuable, Powder. Before the boys fill the bag with junk," Violet says, making me chuckle. I reopen the book, reading it and wondering if I should bring it with us.

"Uh... guys?" Claggor comments, drawing my attention to a mechanism on the desk covered in papers. I blink, staring at the blue stone placed in its center. As I approach it with the others, my hand moves of its own accord.

"Wait, Vi... How the hell did we find this place?" Claggor asks, looking at the pink-haired girl. As my finger nears the stone, I feel a zap and wince, pulling back my hand. The tingling shock courses through my body, but I can't tear my eyes away from the blue stone.

"It was a tip from Little Man," I hear her say, and I roll my eyes.

"Little Man?" Mylo asks in disbelief, questioning our decision to trust the small boy's information.

"Just leave it. C'mon," Vi says harshly, finally breaking me out of my trance—though my eyes still linger on the small blue orb. I shake my head and return to searching the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Powder start to walk down a hallway.

"How can anyone have so much stuff?" I hear Claggor ask as I follow Powder, overhearing their conversation.

"Simple, just get born lucky," Mylo says, making me huff in amusement and roll my eyes. As I reach the hallway, I notice papers pinned to the wall. Examining them, I begin to understand what this person might be creating. Approaching the room, I see Powder opening a chest filled with the same blue stones as the one I just encountered. As I'm about to move closer, I hear footsteps. I freeze, then quickly retreat to the others.

"Psst," I hiss quietly. Vi turns to me, eyebrows furrowed. I nod urgently, and she frowns.

"Mylo," she says quickly. He springs into action as I dash back down the hallway. Mylo wedges a chair against the door handle.

"Powder, we've got to go!" I hiss. She flinches, grabs the stones, and follows me as I hastily tidy up. I help Vi gather our loot, but as I'm lifting the bag, an explosion rips through the apartment. We're thrown across the room. I slam into the bookshelf and crumple to the floor, groaning and clutching my stomach. I push myself up to see Violet already at my side, ready to help.

We've definitely been discovered. The balcony starts to give way, and I help Vi ensure the others are secure before we hear screams from below. I swear silently, staring at the spot where Violet and I had just been standing—now a gaping hole in the floor stories above the street.

We spring into action, running. If we don't move now, we'll certainly be caught. Violet motions for me to take the lead, and I don't hesitate. I guide us out of Piltover, Enforcers' shouts echoing behind us. I dart around a corner, gesturing for the others to follow. The pursuers close in as I round another corner, feeling more confident as we near the underground. I wrench off a sewer lid and motion for them to enter.

"Oh man, not again! I just got this shirt!" Mylo yells as Violet kicks him down the putrid shaft. Claggor follows, then Powder. I dive in after them, with Violet close behind. I land hard on my side at the bottom, hissing through clenched teeth.

"I thought last time was the last time we were gonna do this," Mylo complains. I roll my eyes, shifting into a sitting position.

"Well, this time's the last time," Vi says harshly, her annoyance with the boy's complaints growing.

"Guys, what was that? What the hell happened back there?" Claggor asks. Everyone turns to Powder and me. I furrow my eyebrows.

"I don't know… I didn't do anything," Powder says defensively.

"Yeah, come on. We all didn't expect the owners to return so quickly," I say, earning an eye roll from Mylo. My face falls and I clench my fists.

"You could fill a damn library with all the things you didn't do," he mumbles. I stand up, ready to knock some sense into him.

"Guys, we just emptied a Piltover penthouse right under the enforcers' noses," Vi says, gathering everyone's attention. Everyone smiles but me. We might have done that, but we got caught in the process. There's no doubt trouble will come for us—or be waiting when we get back to the Lanes. I sigh, shaking my head as I walk out of the trash chute into the underground.

[reminiscencez]

~jinx X fem oc~

“Reminiscence” by luvmelaniee112 on wattpad!💌

ﾟ･*☆¸¸.•*¨*••*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ･*☆¸¸.•*¨*••*¨*•.¸¸☆*･

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

───

Bian lay peacefully asleep in her bed,

her dreams undisturbed until a faint whisper pierced the silence. At first, she dismissed it as part of her dream, but the whisper grew louder and closer, tugging her from slumber. Her eyes snapped open to the sight of a man dressed in all black, his face obscured by a ski mask. Panic surged through her, and she opened her mouth to scream, but his hand swiftly covered her mouth masking her screams. Fear gripped her, and she began to kick frantically.

Then, in a moment of shocking revelation, the man removed his mask. Bian's eyes widened in disbelief as she recognized the face beneath.

"Oh my god," she thought, her mind racing. It was her uncle.

He slowly removed his hand from her mouth, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

───

Bian's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at her uncle, confusion and fear swirling in her mind.

"Uncle Wyatt?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "What are you doing here? What's going on?"

Wyatt's eyes were filled with a mix of urgency and sorrow. "Bian, I'm so sorry for scaring you," he said softly. "I didn't have a choice. There's something you need to know, something dangerous. I had to come to you like this to keep you safe."

Bian's mind raced with questions, but she could see the sincerity in her uncle's eyes. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "What do you mean? What's happening?"

Wyatt glanced around the room, as if checking for unseen threats. "There's no time to explain everything now. We need to leave, immediately. Trust me, Bian. I'll explain everything once we're safe."

Despite the fear and confusion, Bian nodded. She trusted her uncle more than anyone in the world. "Okay," she said, her voice steadier. "Let's go."

Wyatt helped her out of bed, and they moved quickly and quietly through the house. "I'll be right back. Stay here," he instructed, retrieving the office key from his work bag. She rolled her eyes, fully aware that she had already been inside the office and puzzled by his insistence on keeping it such a secret. Sure, there were confidential documents in there, but she couldn't understand the need for such secrecy.

He swiftly unlocked the door and entered, closing it firmly behind him. She let out a frustrated groan. What on earth could he possibly be doing in there? Didn't he say this was an emergency?

As she waited, her mind raced with a torrent of questions. "Where on earth had he been all this time? If we were in danger, why would he leave his 13-year-old niece alone?" Bian mentally cataloged the hundreds of questions she would bombard him with later. But for now, they needed to get out of there.

He emerged from the room, his face a mask of urgency. Tossing her a duffle bag, he said, "We're going to be gone for a while. Pack some stuff."

Curiosity piqued, Bian peeked into the office to see what he was up to. She watched as he tore down posters from the walls, emptied the contents of his desk and bookshelves, and hastily shoved everything into his own bag. The room, once a cluttered sanctuary of his thoughts and plans, was now stripped bare, echoing the gravity of their situation.

Bian's heart pounded as she realized the seriousness of their predicament. She quickly gathered her belongings, her mind still swirling with unanswered questions and a growing sense of urgency. They had to move fast, and she had to trust him, even if she didn't fully understand what was happening.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

───

Bian's thoughts raced as she recalled the strangers who had mysteriously appeared in the kitchen, claiming to be searching for her uncle. Utterly bewildered, she had no idea what was happening. She dashed into the living room just in time to see her uncle exiting his office and locking the door behind him. He stared at the door for a moment, then looked down and sighed.

"Do you have everything?" he asked.

Bian nodded.

"Good, let's go," he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He pulled up his mask and unlocked the front door, stepping aside to let her pass first. Even in times like these, he always maintained his manners, at least towards Bian.

He jogged down the porch steps, his eyes lingering on the house one last time before he shook his head and gave Bian a sad smile. They began walking down the road together.

"No car?" she asked, glancing around.

"We can't risk it. It's going to suck having to walk, but it's better than being caught," he replied.

"Caught?" she thought aloud. "Caught by who?"

Uncle Wyatt sighed deeply. "Well," he hesitated, searching for the right words. "There are these people... they, uh..." He struggled to explain. "They're not too fond of me," he said with a dry chuckle. "And to take precautions, for both me and you, we need to leave."

Bian realized this was her moment to bring up what had happened that one night. "The night you let me go into the city, I came home, and your office was ransacked. Did you do that?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Her uncle paused and stopped walking. "What? Ransacked? What do you mean, ransacked? Did they take anything?" he quickly asked, looking intently into her eyes.

Bian stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Bian, did..they..take..anything?" Uncle Wyatt demanded, his tone urgent and filled with concern.

"I-I don't know," she stuttered, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. "The window was busted open, and there was glass all over the floor."

He sighed deeply, shaking his head in frustration. "And... the drawers to your desk were open. There were, like, files all over the place," she continued, her voice tinged with guilt, even though she knew she had no control over what had happened.

Uncle Wyatt's face grew more serious, the lines of worry etched deeper into his features. "This is bad, really bad," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "We need to move quickly and stay ahead of them."

Bian felt a pang of guilt, as if she had somehow let this happen. She knew it wasn't her fault, but the weight of the situation pressed heavily on her young shoulders. She looked up at her uncle, searching for reassurance in his eyes.

"It's not your fault, Bian," he said softly, as if reading her thoughts. "We just need to be careful and stick together. We'll figure this out."

"Oh." Bian said.

"What?" he said.

"There's more I need to tell you," she said as she wrapped her arms around herself for comfort and looked the other way, avoiding eye contact.

"Bian, what is it?" he asked impatiently.

"There... there were these strange people."

His eyes furrowed.

"I woke up the day after you didn't come home," she said, slightly shooting him daggers. She didn't know when she'd forgive him for that. "There was a woman and a man in the kitchen; the man had... like some type of burns on one of his eyes? He had an orange eye and a blue eye," she shyly continued. "I know it sounds stu—"

Her uncle cut her off by holding her shoulders. "What did the woman look like? Did you talk to them?" he asked intently.

"I mean... I kind of had to talk to them."

He scoffed. "Well, what'd you say then?" he said, almost annoyed.

"I had no other choice, okay? I had to talk to them. They were freaking standing in front of me!" she yelled.

She looked up into the sky. "The woman had a metal prosthetic arm," she said, confirming his fear.

"Shit," her uncle murmured.

"They said you had some debt you needed to make up or something. They were looking for you."

"And... I told them you went missing," she said, looking at the ground, embarrassed.

"Are you serious right now?" her uncle yelled at her. "What the hell did I tell you about not talking to strangers?" he yelled out once again.

Bian flinched at his tone, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know what else to do. They were in our house, Uncle Wyatt! I was scared."

Wyatt took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I know, Bian. I'm sorry for yelling. It's just... those people are dangerous. You have to be careful."

She nodded, wiping her tears. "What are we going to do now?"

Wyatt looked out at the night sky, his mind racing. "We need to find a safe place for you. Somewhere they can't find you."

"But what about you?" Bian asked, her voice trembling.

"I'll handle them. I just need you to be safe," he said, his voice firm but gentle.

Bian shook her head. "No, I'm not leaving you. We're

in this together."

Wyatt's face hardened, his voice dropping to a grave tone. "I'm sorry, Bian. I can't have them hurting you. I don't think you understand what these people are capable of."

"You're going to stay with a good friend of mine, okay?" he continued, trying to mask the fear in his eyes.

Bian rolled her eyes and shrugged, her defiance palpable. "He has a kid around your age," Wyatt added, hoping to soften the blow.

That piqued her interest for a moment, but the anger quickly resurfaced. She scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So what, you're just gonna leave me again?" She smiled, but it was a smile of disbelief, not joy.

"I—" Wyatt began, but she cut him off sharply.

"You know, I thought you died!" Her voice cracked, the pain evident. "You said you'd never leave me. You lied!" she yelled, her voice echoing in the empty street. She stopped walking, her body trembling with rage and sorrow.

"You left me! What if they came and fucking killed me?" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. The raw emotion in her voice was like a knife to Wyatt's heart.

Wyatt stood there, stunned. He had never seen her this mad, this hurt. "I really thought you were just going to be another version of my parents," she cried out, her voice breaking.

He took a step towards her, his arms outstretched, but she recoiled. "Don't touch me," she spat, her eyes narrowing in anger.

She secured her bag once again, her hands shaking, and began walking ahead of him, sniffling. Wyatt watched her go, his heart heavy with guilt and regret, knowing that he had shattered the fragile trust she had placed in him.

──⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ﾟ･*☆¸¸.•*¨*••*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ･*☆¸¸.•*¨*••*¨*•.¸¸☆*･

~ 1790 words~

If this interested you and you would like to read the rest of the book, Its called “ Reminiscence” By luvmelaniee112 .

💋

Authors note: oh shieeeeet this is angstyyyy. Her uncle is a friggin liar😡 I get it, hes trying to help but cmonnnn. ALSO SILCO AND SEVIKA?? OH GODDDD HE BETTER PREPARE FOR WAR

[jusstya]

▌𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦 ˖࣪ ♡ ˓ 005 ꜜ ❁ 𝖺𝗌 𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗲 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ┆. 𝑸𝑼𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑶 𝑪𝑨𝑷𝑰𝑻𝑼𝑳𝑶 ◗ ₊˚ 𝖘𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖐𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖊 𝖔𝖈 ⋆ ❜

❪ ៸៸ ✬ ❫. ━━ 𝗖𝗔𝗣𝗜𝗧𝗨𝗟𝗢 𝗤𝗨𝗔𝗧𝗥𝗢・raiva desenfreada 𖠵៸៸  !⠀ִֶָ

𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐊𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀 a madeira dos degraus abaixo de seus pés; em uma ação breve, no entanto, ainda assim, isso não tornou seus passos menos audíveis para as poucas pessoas ao seu redor, tanto pela sua altura, quanto pela sua força. Isso sem falar da raiva que a mulher sentia no momento, especialmente por ter acabado de sair do escritório de Silco em silêncio, optando por se calar ao invés de soltar sua língua azeda para o seu chefe, sabendo que ele não a perdoaria duas vezes seguidas.

Ironicamente, quem havia feito merda na missão havia sido Jinx, mas era óbvio que tudo tinha que cair em cima dos ombros da lutadora, como se Sevika tivesse total controle sobre a mente completamente quebrada da adolescente de longos cabelos trançados diariamente.

Ainda que com os nervos à flor da pele, mais do que disposta a espancar a primeira pessoa que tivesse o azar de cruzar com o seu caminho naquela ocasião, a mais alta tentou controlar sua raiva desenfreada, e decidiu que iria descontar seus sentimentos na bebida pelas próximas horas, perdendo o olhar do grupo já conhecido espalhado sobre a mesa de sinuca, alguns do grupo parecendo um pouco ansiosos ao vê-la.

Sevika ignorou tudo e todos ao seu redor, se dignando apenas em se mover até o bar, sentando-se em uma das muitas cadeiras vazias ━━ graças ao Última Gota estar atualmente fechado àquela hora do dia ━━ sem qualquer delicadeza na ação, deixando transparente até mesmo em sua expressão corporal o quanto ela não estava com disposição para nenhuma gracinha naquele momento.

Sem qualquer surpresa, o barman da vez, Thieram, não fez perguntas desnecessárias como faria com outros clientes em busca de gorjetas. Apenas tremeu um pouco dos pés à cabeça ao ver o braço direito de Silco aparentar estar com o dia cheio e, se curvando por um momento, não demorou a colocar um copo na frente da mulher assustadora, já tendo conhecimento da bebida alcoólica que a mesma tinha preferência nesses dias.

No entanto, no segundo em que Thieram tirou a tampa da garrafa ainda lacrada de bourbon, o vidro foi tirado de suas mãos com uma facilidade beirando ao patético, mas não por Sevika como ele esperava que acontecesse, e sim por Ran.

Os olhos escuros do homem se cruzaram com os púrpura neon de Ran (por conta da luminosidade do local), contudo, nem mesmo sua cor fosca de marrom seria útil contra a indiferença nos olhos da mais baixa. E, com um breve aceno de queixo para o lado, Thieram nem sequer pensou duas vezes antes de simplesmente concordar baixinho com sua ordem silenciosa, se retirando no próximo segundo para fazer suas devidas coisas longe das duas mulheres perigosas.

Ran nem sequer sorriu ao observar o barman se afastar rapidamente, praticamente fugindo com o rabo entre as pernas como um covarde, apenas desviou o olhar para o balcão, colocando o líquido alcoólico no copo ainda vazio de Sevika sem pronunciar uma única palavra enquanto o fazia.

Quando o recipiente de vidro já se encontrava cheio o suficiente, a de cabelos pretos sentou-se ao lado da mais velha, com o corpo virado para a lutadora, apoiando um dos braços no balcão, com uma preguiça óbvia na simples ação.

Todavia, nem por demonstrar tal expressão corporal relaxada ela se tornava automaticamente menos intimidade. Certamente Sevika não se intimidou com isso, por mais que sentisse o olhar intenso de Ran sob seu corpo, tendo pleno conhecimento de que a mais baixa não havia a servido um copo de bourbon em busca de discutir consigo.

No entanto, o silêncio começou a incomodar Sevika, especialmente ao ver que a de cabelos escuros, mesmo se encontrando de boca fechada, ainda servia a bebida em seu recipiente, sem desviar o olhar de seu corpo. Mas quando a mais alta chegou ao quinto copo, sua voz áspera se fez presente; baixa, rouca, e deixando ainda mais transparente que ela não estava com saco para aturar dramas desnecessários:

━━ Se quer me perguntar algo, é melhor fazer de uma vez.

Surpreendente, o canto dos lábios de Ran moveu-se o suficiente para que um mínimo sorriso aparecesse.

━━ Quer jogar uma partida de cartas antes?

━━ Você sabe muito bem que eu não quero jogar porcaria nenhuma.

Um resmungo baixo e suave saiu da garganta da mais baixa ao ouvi-la, não se afetando com a grosseria gratuita da lutadora mais forte, nem sequer se ofendendo minimamente com tal tratamento.

Era como um tipo estranho de rotina para todos do grupo ━━ a maioria dos mesmos ainda se encontrava perto da mesa de sinuca no meio do bar ━━, principalmente nos dias em que Jinx ia junto de suas missões, sempre fazendo o humor antes indiferente (algumas raras vezes beirando ao relaxado quando a mulher acordava de bom humor) de Sevika se tornar azedo, amargo como limão em vista dos outros dias.

Esperando a segunda em comando beber mais alguns copos de sua bebida alcoólica favorita nesses dias, a mulher com uma franja cobrindo um dos olhos voltou a tentar tirar algo da maior:

━━ Aconteceu alguma coisa na missão? ━━ indagou de maneira suave, quase podendo chegar a indiferença se não fosse a sua curiosidade costumeira, mas também não querendo jogá-la com ansiedade na de cabelos presos.

Sevika, para a surpresa da outra mulher ainda apoiada confortavelmente sobre o balcão, resmungou audivelmente no próximo instante. Não para confirmar sua questão, tão pouco para mandá-la se calar como fazia com outros 'colegas de trabalho'; foi como se, por um único segundo, a lutadora deixasse toda a sua insatisfação do dia sair em sua voz para qualquer um ouvir. Isso foi o suficiente para a morena saber que, sim, havia acontecido algo além da discussão e a briga com Jinx.

O problema agora era descobrir o que, para que Ran soubesse como ajudar a sua superior a melhorar o humor, tendo conhecimento que em breve elas iriam até o bordel de Babette em conjunto no dia seguinte, e ter uma Sevika mal-humorada não era exatamente o seu maior desejo no momento.

Apesar disso, seu tempo pareceu chegar ao fim, assim como seu plano de relaxar a mais alta antes de qualquer outra coisa, já que, no próximo segundo, antes que a de cabelos escuros tivesse a chance de reagir, uma voz masculina fez-se presente no silêncio momentânea das duas:

━━ Pare de resmungar como uma criança rabugenta, Sevika, e fale algo com que podemos trabalhar.

Nem Ran, nem Sevika, fizeram questão de mover-se um único centímetro de seus queixos, sabendo que não havia o mínimo de necessidade de desviar o olhar para a voz, sabendo exatamente a quem a mesma pertencia sem precisar olhá-lo duas vezes.

Ainda assim, isso só serviu para reforçar o desgosto de Ran pela surpresa de ver o terceiro em comando de volta de sua missão tão cedo. E, embora seu aborrecimento não tenha aparecido em suas feições, ficou transparente em suas próximas palavras; a insatisfação em sua voz a denunciando.

━━ O que está fazendo aqui, Lock? Não tinha um carregamento para revisar?

━━ O chefe me chamou mais cedo graças ao teatrinho do demônio azul.

Uma risada abafada saiu das narinas da mulher com um braço mecânico, tal ação sendo o suficiente para chamar a atenção dos dois, estranhando tal coisa.

Ran deixou mais aparente ao levantar minimamente uma das sobrancelhas, embora graças a sua franja tampando a maioria de sua testa, isso não ficou exatamente à vista de possíveis olhos curiosos. E Lock se viu apertando as pálpebras em um ato invisível, se perguntando dentro de sua mente se isso era ruim o suficiente para ele deixá-las a sós, preferindo que Ran fosse o alvo da raiva desenfreada de Sevika.

No entanto, como sempre, a mulher com um dos membros modificados os surpreendeu quando apenas sorriu, claramente cínica sobre o que quer que estivesse em sua mente e, levando o copo de cristal até seus lábios, virou-o, tomando o resto do bourbon em um último gole, batendo o fundo do recipiente agora vazio na madeira, com força o suficiente para chamar a atenção de quem quer que estivesse prestando atenção, mas não o suficiente para quebrá-lo em centenas de pedaços.

━━ Temos um problema maior do que Jinx nesse momento.

Isso confundiu tanto Lock, quanto Ran em diversas formas diferentes, e isso ficou perceptível em suas expressões; nenhum deles esperava outro problema para solucionar nessa altura do campeonato, especialmente depois da burrada que a filha adotiva de Silco havia feito essa manhã, de novo.

Jinx já era um problema grande o suficiente para eles lidarem diariamente ━━ e de quebra ainda estar sempre presente na organização. O que poderia ser pior que uma adolescente propensa a surtos psicóticos?

━━ Que tipo de problema? ━━ Lock indagou, tentando entender com mais detalhes do que exatamente a segunda em comando estava se referindo.

O homem ainda tinha um resquício de esperança que tal empecilho fosse pequeno, o típico trabalho que em menos de três dias eles pudessem resolver, nem que fosse com o máximo de força bruta.

━━ O passarinho mentalmente instável irá perder seu posto de pior funcionário do mês por um tempo? ━━ Ran perguntou um pouco depois do homem mais alto, com um tom sarcástico o suficiente para fazer um pouco da raiva de Sevika diminuir, mas não completamente.

Deixando o copo vazio de lado, a mulher com um braço de metal virou-se de lado, ficando de frente para Ran, desviando por um segundo o olhar da mesma para olhar um Lock mais atrás da gótica de cabelos escuros com franja sob um dos olhos, notando a maneira como os dois estavam um pouco tensos, não parecendo tão confortáveis como esperado.

━━ Teoricamente falando, ela não é problema nosso. Ainda. ━━ A confusão em ambas as feições alheias aumentaram, agora ficando tão aparentes quanto a água filtrada de Piltover. ━━ Aquela mulher é um problema meu. E de Jinx.

A maneira como Sevika pronunciou o nome da adolescente de longos cabelos azuis foi dolorosa, como se falar o nome da mais nova fosse uma forma única de torturá-la, sem a necessidade de tocar em sua pele. Não precisava ser um gênio para notar o desprezo que a mulher mais alta tinha pela mais nova, nem sequer fazendo questão de esconder tal fato, nem mesmo na presença de Silco.

Apesar disso, tal desprezo só serviu para aumentar significativamente a diversão que a de cabelos mais curtos sentiu ao ouvir suas últimas palavras.

Ran fez o possível para segurar o sorriso irônico que quis escorregar por seus lábios pintados com um batom preto o melhor que pôde. Todavia, para sua cota de azar daquele dia, um resquício de diversão ainda se espalhou por seu rosto no próximo instante.

Sevika notou com facilidade a alegria no olhar da mais baixa. Se fosse qualquer outra pessoa assistindo tal ação, não veria nada de mais em sua expressão, mas a mais velha conhecia Ran a tempo suficiente para lê-la como um livro aberto. No entanto, a segunda em comando não se irritou com isso, já esperando ações parecidas vindo da mulher sádica, de qualquer forma.

━━ Você vai ter o desprazer de trabalhar com o demônio azul? ━━ Antes que pudesse controlar sua língua, a pergunta já havia saído por seus lábios, escorrendo como um verme. ━━ Boa sorte, porque você vai precisar pra caralho dessa vez.

Sevika simplesmente revirou os olhos ao ouvir, não afetada pelo humor da outra, optando por ficar em silêncio naquele momento, tentando pensar em formas de se livrar daquele trabalho o mais rápido possível.

Todavia, como já era de se esperar, Lock foi quem veio ao salvamento da lutadora  com um braço de metal, cortando o assunto com pouquíssimas palavras:

━━ Deixe a pobre mulher em paz, Ran. Ela já está tendo um dia ruim o suficiente. ━━ Deu dois tapinhas leves nas costas da mais baixa, fazendo-a entender que aquela não era hora para fazer piadas (embora provavelmente ainda havia muitas outras em sua língua furada). ━━ E Sevika, vamos jogar uma partida de sinuca, e eu não vou aceitar um não como resposta. Você precisa de uma vitória mais do que aqueles idiotas.

▌𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗔𝗦 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗜𝗦 ❞

Pense numa dificuldade de mexer com os capangas do Silco, meu Odin do céu, nesse dia que escrevi o capítulo fiquei umas cinco horas sofrendo, tentando decidir personalidade e afins- não reclamando, mas já reclamando, né

Enfim! Mais uma vez sem Morgana aparecendo, porém, como sempre, nem isso torna o capítulo menos importante (o próximo é mais importante, mas isso não vem ao caso, shhhhhh

Antes que alguém diga sobre os pronomes de Ran (ela/eles) e que a personagem é não-binário eu quero deixar claro que essa é a minha maneira de escrever a personagem! Em alguns capítulos eu posso tentar abordar essas informações (até pesquisei como, porém não me ajudou muito), mas sinceramente eu sempre me perco ao tentar, e por isso achei mais fácil deixar assim. Peço desculpas caso isso deixe alguem desconfortável, mas infelizmente irá ficar assim, por conta de EU me sentir mais confortável escrevendo assim.

Ok! Deixamos isso de lado, vou me permitir cadelar a relação que criei entre a Sevika e a Ran. E antes que alguém shippe- essa fanfiction não é lugar pra isso (quem que eu tô tentando enganar? Super mexeria nessas duas, mas isso não vem ao caso agora, shhhhh)

Aqui essas duas são apenas amigas! E eu estou decidindo ainda o que fazer com os outros capangas do Silco (inclusive, se alguém souber o nome do resto, tirando o Dustin, eu tô aceitando ideias! Um sofrimento pra achar nomes bons pra eles, que meu Odin do céu-)

Enfim! Espero que tenham gostado do capítulo! Até o próximo!!

▌𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦 ⵓ

𝟬𝟬𝟬 ◛ ˊ 2.110 palavras 𖡻 leia aqui!

𝟬𝟬𝟭 ◛ ˊ 1.930 palavras 𖡻 leia aqui!

𝟬𝟬𝟮 ◛ ˊ 2.070 palavras 𖡻 leia aqui!

𝟬𝟬𝟯 ◛ ˊ 2.040 palavras 𖡻 leia aqui!

𝟬𝟬𝟰 ◛ ˊ 2.055 palavras 𖡻 leia aqui!

𝟬𝟬𝟱 ◛ ˊ 2.045 palavras 𖡻

𝟬𝟬𝟲 ◛ ˊ 2.320 palavras 𖡻

𝟬𝟬𝟳 ◛ ˊ 2.055 palavras 𖡻

𝟬𝟬𝟴 ◛ ˊ 2.125 palavras 𖡻

𝟬𝟬𝟵 ◛ ˊ 2.745 palavras 𖡻

𝟬𝟭𝟬 ◛ ˊ 4.095 palavras 𖡻

[ladey]

‘𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫’ : 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 , 𝐚𝐫𝐭 & 𝐨𝐜 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐬

ayla

act 1 concepts, act 2 concepts, hair concepts

[unluckiestmember]

Arcane x Ransom! Reader

Summary: How would the Arcane characters react if the reader was held for ransom?

Characters: Jinx/Powder, Violet "Vi", Caitlyn Kiramman, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Sevika, Silco and Licker (mention).

Warning: Slight cursing and suggestive themes/implied sexual themes.

A/N: I literally got the idea for this request from Helluva Boss, particular episode 6 of season 2. I hope you all enjoy this though, I know I did!

Powder/Jinx

“You have who?! Where are they?!… You want me to pay you for them? Oh I’ll pay you alright!”

Jinx doesn’t take the idea of you getting hurt lightly. She already is super overprotective of her little trinket, so when she heard that you were being held for a price, she wasted no time grabbing Pow-Pow, Zapper and a bunch of chompers to aid her in her “heroic rescue” for her princess/prince. As soon as she is where you are held, you don’t have to see her to know she’s there for you. Don’t expect any talking, just laughter and hollers followed by gunfire, screams for mercy and explosions.

Before you know it, the Loose Cannon is standing in front of you, pulling you into the tightest hug ever and dressing your face with kisses. She will ask you countless questions while freaking out, beating herself up over you being in such a position. But when she feels you touch her and assure her you’re okay, she’s on cloud nine. As soon as she laces the area with bombs to blow it to kingdom come, she’s back at her hideout, being super affectionate and touchy the entire night. Don’t expect anyone to be touching you for months unless they want their head blown off.

Violet “Vi”

“… What?… You… You just pissed off the wrong woman.”

First word that you were kidnapped, Vi wasted no time hunting your captors down and beating them to a bloody pulp. The woman is like a bull seeing red knowing you were somewhere cold and scared away from home and her arms. So until you were back to her, anyone was able to get a personal greeting from the pink haired fighter. Vi is pretty merciful, but in situations like this, she isn’t afraid to push the envelope by giving life threatening injuries to the bastards that hurt you.

When she found you, she didn’t bother asking any questions or giving any money to your kidnappers, unless they counted a mouthful of fists and kicks as payment enough. When she’s done with her punishment, she’ll immediately scoop you into her arms and take the both of you back home, where she checks you for injuries and asks if you are okay. Please comfort her. She may act all tough and cool, but the situation scared her due to thinking she lost you just like everyone else. As soon as she knows you are alright, she’ll promise no one will ever do that to you again.

Caitlyn Kiramman

“You kidnapped Y/N? Why would- Who do you think you are? You better let them go right now!”

Caitlyn was used to people being kidnapped on the job, having to save them or negotiate with criminals for their safety. But she would have never imagined such a thing happening to you of all people. When she was told you were being held for ransom, she understandably panicked before taking deep breaths and thinking of how to get you back to her. The enforcer can easily scrounge up the money for you to be freed, because you were more important than any coin that reaches her pockets.

So when she arranges a meeting with your kidnappers and finds you so scared, she finds it hard to stop herself from grabbing you and making a run for it. If the kidnappers pull a fast one on her though, all bets are off and bullets are flying. When she has you back, she will watch you like a hawk and be on the defensive for a while. But if you assure her enough that you are okay, she will lighten up. On the bright side, after the incident she’s more romantic and spends more time with you in and out of work.

Viktor

“Look, I’m sure we can talk about this. I’ll get you the money, just. Please don’t hurt them…”

Viktor beat himself up when he heard you were taken away from him for monetary purposes. He just doesn’t understand how he would let this happen- How he would let someone easily take you under his nose and put you in harm’s way?! He could’ve waddled in his sorrows, but he couldn’t. He had to save you and he had to act fast! It would hurt him, but he would ask for assistance from Jayce and the council if he can. And if they can’t help him? Well. Maybe it was time to break out those so-called dangerous machines Heimerdinger warned him against using.

When he finds you, he’s wasting no time trying to negotiate a way around matters so you could be freed. And if those negotiations don’t go according to plan, then he’ll use his machinery and his brain to outsmart the criminals into freeing you. When you are back together, he’ll just. Hold you. Like you are a precious gemstone. He’ll promise you this will never happen again. No one will ever lay their hands on you again…

Jayce Talis

“Is this supposed to scare me? If anything, you should be the one scared- Do you know who I am?!”

Jayce does not take threats lightly, especially when it comes to his family, friends and his loved ones. As soon as he was told you were held for Ransom, he let his anger and determination to get you back fuel him to do anything to send a message and bring you back to safety. You will immediately know your boyfriend got the message because in a matter of hours, enforcers are barging into the area you were held like they were entering a war, shooting, punching and slamming anyone who got in their way from their goal; You.

And Jayce is in the middle of it all, swinging his hammer without remorse before running to your rescue as your knight in shining armor. As soon as you grab his hand, he’s walking you back to his place casually through the enforcers destroying everything in their sights and leaving a message for the assholes that took you; Never. Ever. Touch the councilman’s lover. Don’t expect to go anywhere without guards following you if Jayce isn’t, whether you want to or not. Jayce just can’t take the chance for you to be taken again. Is it extreme? Yes. But it was worth it.

Sevika

“Ransom? Seriously? Please, that’s nothing. And I’m about to show you why.”

When it comes to ransom, Sevika wasn’t new to having her friends or past lovers be kidnapped for money. So when she heard you were being held hostage, she casually grabbed her poncho, fixed her arm for a brawl and headed outside to round her co-workers up. When she found you and the ones that took you, she wasted no time kicking in the doors and sicking her co-workers on everyone before she made her way towards you after knocking some skulls in. She’ll ask if you are okay and especially check you for any injuries before grabbing you and joking how you found yourself in this predicament.

The fight rages on as soon as she places you outside for safety. Saving you wasn’t enough. No, she needed everyone to know that when someone messes with you, they have to deal with her and the rest of Zaun. When everything is over and done, Sevika will take you both back home and treat any injuries you want before kissing your cheek and simply talking as if you weren’t kidnapped to begin with. If you think she doesn’t care, then hoo boy. The way she’ll treat you that night in bed will make you think otherwise.

Silco

“Hmm… If I were you, I’d beg for mercy when I get there…”

Silco is never one to be threatened because he’s always the one making the threats. Hearing about you being held for Ransom made him immediately go on the move to round up Sevika to follow him in bringing you back to him. If he gets there and doesn’t find you anywhere, he will deliver a silent signal to bring the house down. But if you are present, then he won’t need violence to be delivered by his Right Hand. He’ll just need to put the fear of gods into your kidnapper.

He’ll paint them a picture of how he’ll find their families and let them listen to the melody of their bones breaking. How he’ll have Licker carve paintings into their bodies and let them choke on their own blood as they beg for mercy. What do they think of that? They wouldn’t like that at all. As a matter of fact, they would hate it so much that they would release you and fade from existence right there. As soon as you are back to Silco, he’s going to take you back home as if this was only a minor inconvenience. But as soon as you two are behind closed doors, he can’t help from keeping his hands to himself and make promises against your skin.

If you have any requests for Arcane, X-Men '97 or Blue Eye Samurai, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay safe, stay hydrated and have a good day!

[aventurineswife]

Welcome to my Masterlist!

Here, you'll find fanfictions, headcanons, and maybe a few surprises along the way.

Feel free to send requests from the following fandoms:

• Roblox Pressure

Incorrect Quotes: (1), (2), (3)

Trick-or-Treating Mishaps! | Human!Sebestian Solace x Reader

“Good Luck Out There” | Sebestian Solace x Reader (Swapped AU)

“I didn't think you would actually fall for it...” | P.ai.nter x Reader

First Christmas with You | Sebestian Solace x Reader

• Obey Me!

Masterlist: (1)

• Honkai Star: Rail

Masterlist: (1), (2), (3), (4)

• Genshin Impact

Masterlist: (1)

• Wuthering Waves

Masterlist: (1)

• Alien Stage

Alien Stage F I N A L Rewritten Ending

• Arcane

Paint the World Pink and Blue | Jinx x Reader

A Safe Space | Isha x Parental Figure!Reader

Stealing Moments from Time | Ekko x Reader

• OCs

Incorrect Quotes: (1)

“With you, I’m so much stronger” | Shadow x Reader

🎃!Halloween Special: Shadows of the Night!🎃

Trick-or-Treating Mishaps! | Human!Sebestian Solace x Reader

Temptation Awaits... Or Not? | Siren! Aventurine x Reader

☃️!Winter Special: Frosted Wonders!☃️

“Where The Cold Can't Touch Us” | Aventurine x Reader

Under The Mistletoe | Aventurine, Dan Heng, Boothill, Sunday, Mortefi, Xiangli Yao, Aalto, Kaveh x Reader

Love, Laughter, and Mistletoe | Obey Me Brothers x Reader

First Christmas with You | Sebestian Solace x Reader

The Best Present | Aventurine x Reader

Secret Gift for Special Someone | Mortefi, Kaveh, Aventurine, Sunday, Ratio x Reader

Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice | Ratio x Reader

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas | Aventurine x Reader

A Family of Our Own | Dad!Aventurine x Parent!Reader

Under the Mistletoe, A Christmas Kiss | Kinich, Ororon x Female!Reader

In the Spirit of the Season | Aventurine, Sampo x Dog Hybrid Human!Reader

The Greatest Present Awaits You | Aventurine x Reader

“Christmas isn’t a season. It’s a feeling” | Kaveh x Reader x Aventurine

💝 !Valentine's Week Special: Love Is In The Air! 💝

“The Rose of My Heart” | 7th Feb: Rose Day! | Agrenti x Reader

Through the Lens of the Heart | 8th Feb: Propose Day! | Xiangli Yao x Reader

Chocolate-Covered Honesty | 9th Feb: Chocolate Day! | Sampo Koski x Reader

A Heart Hidden, A Bear Given | 10th Feb: Teddy Day! | Aventurine x Reader

A Vow in the Starlight | 11th Feb: Promise Day! | Ratio x Reader

The Art of Letting Go | 12th Feb: Hug Day! | Sunday x Reader

Kiss of the Crimson Flame | 13th Feb: Kiss Day! | Mortefi x Reader

Say It Wrong, Make It Right | 14th Feb: Valentine's Day! | Ratio x Reader

Reqs are closed at the moment!

(Read this before making a request!)

I might add more fandoms in the future, but for now, that’s the lineup. Enjoy your stay!

[bellybuttonbooks]

THE SIXTH | Ekko x Fem!OC

CHAPTER TWO

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Link to Chapter One can be found here.

Full fanfiction currently has 22 chapters and counting. Link to full fanfiction can be found here.

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Ekko was not okay when he made it back to the Firelight hideout. Though he had no physical injuries (which was surprising since she'd jabbed him in the back of his neck and sent him crumbling to the ground), he was royally pissed off.

His feet clunked against the floor as he stormed to his bedroom with an angry frown on his face. It was late now, and very few Firelights were awake to witness his sour mood.

As soon as he entered his room, he cleared everything off his desk. He grabbed a pencil and began making a sloppy sketch of the woman he had the unfortune of meeting tonight. He drew her long, bushy hair, goggles, mask, scarf—any detail that he was able to recall about her. As he traced the outlines of her goggles, his pressure on his pencil strokes softened slightly. He recognized these goggles from someone from the past. He was quick to dismiss the similarity though. The person who had those goggles was dead, and this particular design was common throughout Zaun.

He finished the sketch and then glared down at it as if it were actually her. Whoever this woman was, he wouldn't stop until he took her and her group down. Now that he knew how they managed to paralyze their victims, he planned on using this new intel to ensure they were unable to do it to him or the other Firelights.

He moved to his workbench and grabbed an old piece of scrap metal that was resting against the wall. He'd finally found a use for it. He needed to make something to protect their napes so that they couldn't be paralyzed.

He worked throughout the night and into the morning. By noon, he finally finished. Metal plate pieces that could be attached to the back straps of their masks. Not only would it protect their napes, it would also send a surge or electricity through anyone who tried to paralyze them. And it was one-sided, meaning the inside of the plate was safe to rest against the flesh of the wearer's neck without the risk of be electrocuted themselves. The plate was split in multiple sections, ensuring it was flexible enough to allow them to maintain range of motion when looking upwards.

During lunch, Scar watched silently as his leader glared down at his bowl of soup in deep contemplation.

By now, the other Firelights were aware of Ekko's encounter with the mysterious leader of their unknown 'enemy' group. He'd caught them up on it and then showed them his new invention. Each word that Ekko uttered while describing the situation sounded like he was in agony. Everyone could see how tense he was, and how lost in thought he remained.

"Not hungry?" the chirean asked, scooping up some of his own soup at the same time.

Ekko peered over at Scar from across the table and shrugged.

Scar couldn't help but roll his eyes. Always so stubborn.

Ekko and Scar were good friends, and he knew that Ekko trusted him more than anyone. If Ekko was going to open up, it would be with him and no one else. And so, he pushed further for a proper response.

"You're thinkin' about that girl, aren't you?"

He noticed how Ekko's grip on his spoon tightened ever so slightly.

"She knew who I was, but I didn't recognize her. Not her hair. Not her voice. Nothing."

Scar emptied the contents of his spoon into his bowl and placed it down on the table.

"We'll figure it out. We're bound to run into 'em again."

Ekko shook his head. "She won't let any of us get that close. She's too quick. Would probably backflip over our heads as soon as we got close enough."

Scar was a little sceptical on how agile Ekko described this woman. He and the other Firelights were trained well and moved with their own kind of speed and precision. But the way Ekko recounted her was as if she was beyond precision. Like she was some kind of gravity defying creature from folklore.

"Just punch her out before she gets the chance," he suggested.

Ekko dropped his spoon into his bowl. "She paralyzed me, Scar. I couldn't move. Just laid there while she taunted me. And she could do it again. I didn't even notice when she did it—"

"I get it, alright? But you were alone then. None of us were there. It'll be different next time," Scar justified. "You mentioned scouting in partners from now on, right? I'm sure that'll help."

Ekko exhaled and rested his elbow on the table next to his bowl of soup, his cheek now pressed against the palm of his hand.

"She has numbers too. If she wanted, she could've had her whole gang surround me. I still don't know why she didn't."

Scar shrugged. "Probably wanted you all to herself, the greedy bitch." He replied, his words airy and light, trying to ease the tension—if even just a little.

"That or she just wanted dibs on my mask."

The fact that Ekko had lost his mask bothered Scar more than the rest of the encounter did. Ekko's mask was a part of his identity as a Firelight. He'd made it himself. Had worn it for years now. Even during the war—but on his knee instead. It had evidence of their many battles against Silco, and even those during the war (the pink spray paint from Jinx, notably). Now this woman who came out of buttfuck nowhere had it.

"It is a pretty cool mask," said Scar earnestly, if not a little teasingly.

Ekko scoffed. "It doesn't even fit her."

Scar leaned back a little in his seat, now having forgotten about his rapidly cooling soup.

"Yeah, you mentioned she was tiny."

"And she still managed to take me out in seconds," Ekko pointed out, becoming more irritated with himself as he recounted the details.

"You think she's a kid? Maybe someone from the Lanes that saw you around and learned your name or something?"

Ekko dug his fingernails in his cheek, his face still pressed against the palm of his hand.

"I don't know."

"Maybe you should talk to Vi," Scar suggested, "see if she can help us out."

Ekko dropped his hand from his cheek after considering it for a moment then shook his head.

"The Enforcers are busy dealing with Daunter already," he replied.

"Since when do you care about whether or not they're busy?"

Ekko let out a scoff. "I don't. It's just... This is our turf, Scar. Vi's one of them now. We can handle this ourselves."

Scar managed a shrug and decided to drop the conversation.

Both men finished eating and then separated—Scar heading to the balcony for some air, and Ekko to his room to either get some sleep, or to overthink.

The next day, Ekko received intel from his trusted source of a shimmer transport located a couple miles east of the Lanes. He was quick to form a plan, his mind straying to the possibility of seeing the woman from the other night again.

He went over the plan with the Firelights. It involved warning them about the possibility of the export already being raided by the mysterious, unnamed group from before.

After laying out the plan to his gang members, he handed out the metal plate mask attachments he'd made two nights ago and then demonstrated how to clip them onto the back of their masks. He joined them in suiting up—throwing his coat over his shoulders, putting on a spare mask that was lying around since his signature one was stolen (this one looked like a raven), and pulling his hood over his head.

The Firelights mounted their aerogliders before slowly hovering out of the hideout through the sewer pipe maze.

Ekko leaned to the side as if he was about to fall off his board. But before his feet could lose contact with it, he zoomed through the air and began flying in the direction of the shimmer transport.

The other Firelights followed him closely, with Scar being to his right as always. It didn't take long for them to reach the location of the transport—their gliders moved at incredible speeds and allowed them to have a rapid method of transportation.

From a distance, he could see that Daunter's men had already been dealt with and a group of people were about to drain the barrels of shimmer. The export was the same as any other—airship docked at a loading station, surrounded by heaps of barrels and crates and random pieces of equipment.

Ekko gestured his arm backwards before thrusting it forward, waving a silent command for the Firelights to continue their pursuit.

During the plan briefing, he'd given specific instructions for if they crossed paths with this group. They needed to capture at least one of them, the main target being their leader. He'd described her appearance to them, while also mentioning that there was a possibility that she would be wearing his mask.

His eyes skipped each person who didn't match the description until he finally spotted her, his mask adorning her face and causing his spite to bolden.

The Firelights zigzagged through the air, each of them heading towards the group.

By now, the leader and some of the other members had already taken notice of the vigilantes heading their way.

"Ladies, we've got company!" The leader warned, getting ready for confrontation.

They didn't have time to escape. They would have to fight.

Ekko pulled his stopwatch from his pocket and activated the timer. He sped towards the leader, a glare searing through the eyeholes of his mask, gaze locked on the small woman.

He yanked his 'bat', which was actually the second-hand piece he had stolen from the clocktower in Piltover during the war, from behind his back and swerved his board the last second, manoeuvring around her and out of reach from her poking fingers. He struck the side of her face with his weapon, knocking her off her feet. He heard her curse just as he made another sharp turn, heading in her direction once again. He raised his bat, about to hit her with it another time but she quickly rolled out of the way and then hopped to her feet again.

Ekko clenched his jaw and directed his board towards her, the nose of it pointing at her exact position. He raised his bat and charged at her at high speed. As he raised his bat to strike her, he was caught off guard when he felt a sudden weight on his board. He looked down to see that she'd grabbed his board and was now swinging back and forth from below it, throwing off his balance and direction.

He cursed and was about to stomp on her fingers when she swung herself upwards, landing on the board behind him. She was quick to try and jab her fingers against his nape but cried out in pain when her fingers surged with electricity from the new mask attachment he'd made.

"Think again," he mocked.

He swung his bat while she was shaking the electricity from her fingers. She hardly reacted in time, the bat getting caught in her hair as she bent down. While he was caught off guard, she poked her fingers behind his knees and he soon found his legs beginning to buckle. He lost control of his board and both of them crashed into a pile of stacked crates on the nearby docks.

Ekko wasn't able to pull himself up. He still had use of his upper body and upper legs, but his lower legs were completely paralyzed. He longed for his z-drive, the time-wielding device he and Heimerdinger had cooked up in the alternate timeline before it got obliterated during the war. After Heimerdinger came back to Piltover, revealing himself to actually have been alive and in Bangle City the whole time, he helped him reconstruct it. Unfortunately, Ekko managed to break the thing again and it was currently being repaired. If he still had it, he'd have reversed time and changed his tactics, ensuring she hadn't been able to climb onto his board.

The woman rolled over and away from him before pulling herself up into a better position, her elbows holding her weight from behind her as she looked at him from her position on the wooded docks.

"Following us again?" she asked, voice distorted as it filtered through the voice changer in the mask.

The sound of her warped voice sent poison straight through his veins.

"Stealing shimmer again?" He spat, his distain evident in his tone.

She didn't say anything at first, trying to catch her breath. Once she succeeded, she pulled herself up and walked over to him while purposefully remaining enough distance away so that he couldn't attack her.

"You're really gonna be a pain in my butt, aren't you?" She sighed and quickly kicked his bat out of his hand, the glowing weapon tumbling away before coming to a stop as it smacked into one of the crates.

"In that case, I suppose I'll just have to return the favour." Her eyes narrowed, her vision closing in on his new mask. "Do you have an unlimited supply of creepy looking masks lyin' around or something?"

"Tell me who you are," he demanded through his teeth.

She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes gazing down at him through her goggles. She bent over, keeping her legs straight but her torso angled downwards.

She paused for dramatic effect.

"No.”

Ekko's jaw clenched and he huffed out an angered breath.

"At least tell me how you know my name—how you know who I am."

She watched as Ekko pulled himself up, trying to balance himself on his knees. She sighed and stood up straight again.

"That doesn't matter. Not anymore."

He furrowed his eyebrows, her words only adding more questions to the pile he already had.

"This is ridiculous—you're ridiculous. Just give me some answers already."

She turned away from him and walked over to his board. She picked it up and was surprised to find that it wasn't as heavy as it looked.

Ekko growled as she completely ignored him.

"You made this, didn't you?" she asked.

He tensed, fearful that she was going to steal yet another thing he owned and created.

"Put it down," he seethed, despite already knowing that she wasn't going to listen.

She ignored him and looked it over thoroughly, eventually figuring out how to turn it on and then made a noise of glee.

Ekko expected her to fly off right away, but instead she let the hoverboard hover in the air a few meters away from him and then sat on it, her legs dangling in the air and her long ponytail doing the same from behind her. It was then that he noticed that she had a purplish pink streak in her hair, seeming to come from the back of her scalp. He took note of that detail.

"What are you doing?" he asked in genuine confusion. She was treating his invention as if it were a toy.

"Sitting on your board," she answered.

"—Why?"

She shrugged. "Seemed like a fun idea."

Ekko blinked slowly and then shook his head.

"What kind of leader are you? Having 'fun' while your people are fighting."

"My people can handle themselves," she said, holding upmost confidence in the ones she led and fought beside.

"Yeah? Well so can mine. Your people don't stand a chance."

She snickered from behind the mask. "You mean like how I didn't stand a chance against you?"

Ekko went quiet. She made a good point, and it only served to multiply the loathing he felt for her.

"You're right though. I should get back to them... But that would mean leaving you down here alone and defenceless."

She caught sight of something from the corner of her vision, a slash of neon green slicing through the air.

"Huh, one of your friends is coming to save you. Good timing."

Ekko watched as she hopped off his board and powered it down. Scar zoomed in and swiped his sphere towards her, narrowly missing her head as she ducked. Scar tore Ekko's board from her grasp while she was distracted.

Ekko was abruptly grabbed and hauled from the ground, Scar holding him steady on his board while he flew them away from the docks

"They can paralyze limbs separately," said Ekko, clinging to the chirean as they both whooshed through the air.

"I know. They got a few of the Firelights."

Ekko's eyes widened slightly in shock.

"What happened?"

"It was a pretty even match up. We're fast, but so are they—in their own way. They ended up retreating and the Firelights who hadn't been paralyzed flew after em'. The rest I don't know yet, and we won't know until the others return."

"Shit—"

Ekko looked downwards, trying to spot the leader, only to discover she was gone.

"Did you get any info from her?"

Ekko released a defeated exhale.

"No. Nothing."

"Well, there's one thing we learned that we didn't know before," he said, "The group, they're all women."

"Why only women? They got something against men or..." Ekko trailed off, seeming to get caught in his own thoughts.

Scar entered the sewer pipes and made his way through their twists and turns. "Who knows. But right now, we gotta focus on getting everyone back. I'll make trips back and forth to get the others. You want me to bring you to your room?"

Ekko nodded. "Yeah. Probably the best idea until my legs stop being useless."

Scar managed to get everyone back safely and had also taken the time to burn the shimmer. It turned out the all-female group didn't stick around to drain the barrels like they usually did. By the time the other Firelights returned from their chase, everyone's paralysis had worn off.

Ekko had since left his room and went to the meeting room. They had to debrief their mission.

With the explanations from each Firelight, Ekko was able to piece together the end result of the mission. It was a failure—well, the part about capturing one of them was. At least they'd been able to burn the shimmer this time.

Ekko was frustrated and left the meeting room feeling more tense and stressed than he'd been beforehand. Despite what they learned, they were still unable to capture any of their members and their leader had bested him again. There was also the fact that the women could paralyze individual limbs from poking various points of the body. He asked all the Firelights who'd been paralyzed where they'd been struck, and he was surprised to learn that there were so many different places. Behind the knees, under the armpits, behind the shoulders, inside of the elbows. It's like they knew the human body inside and out and knew exactly where to strike to immobilize their enemies.

With this in mind, he raged towards his bedroom and hurriedly began designing something that he hoped might even the odds for the Firelights when they confronted them in the future.

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Link to Chapter One can be found here.

Full fanfiction currently has 22 chapters and counting. Link to full fanfiction can be found here.

[alexa-fika]

Do you think I can do a female child reader, where they ate the mouth mouth fruit (idk if it's an actual fruit just go with the flow 😞), the devil fruit makes the user be able make mouth of any size apron there body, they can change the teeth shape if wanted, and can talk out of the mouth, the devil fruit can consume inedible objects and hide the them like a big pocket and not like digesting it, I can just imagine them not feeling well an just throwing up a vacuum or a fridge

Beckup ( Red-Haired pirates x child!reader)

A/N I don’t want to jinx it guys but how long has the streak been going on three days? I think im back! Anyhow how you like that tittle cause im really proud of it especially once you read the chapter, you’ll get it. Also guys I see your requests I see them! Im just really behind because of the month writer’s block so im still doing requests from May so give me some time 🙏🏼

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese for the enjoyment of both reader and oc character reader’s enjoyment!

Dividers by @/Drinkthesky and @/firefly-graphics

“Dokucha, I need you to come out of there so I can help you,” Hongo called out with a sigh.

“I don’t need help, Papa! I’m good!”

“Then why have you found it necessary to hide in a closet?” he deadpanned

“It’s warm and cozy in here.”

“Dokucha, get out,” he ordered as he tried pulling the closet open.

“No, I’m good.”

“Do I need to get Benn?” He warned

“...You won’t!”

“Try me, Dokucha, if you don’t come out at the count of three I am calling him .

“One”

“You’re Lying!” they cried out.

“Two,” he continued

“Uncle is busy!” they tried to reason.

“Three. Alright, I’m going to get Beck,” He called.

Dokucha frowned, hearing the fading footsteps of their father as they tried to make themselves smaller and steel their resolve before the vice Captain made an appearance

They did not have to wait long as soon after the Doctor had left, the door sounded again, and two sets of footsteps followed.

“Dokucha.” Benn’s deep voice rumbled

That was all he needed; just one word was all he needed to convey what he wanted. Dokucha’s only escape at the moment was to try to stall by playing dumb, as it was only a matter of time before Benn managed to get them out. However, it was more than likely that he would manage to get them out with only his words, knowing that they knew that only worse consequences would arise if he had to remove them from the closet forcefully.

“Y-Yes?”

“Enough of this, get out.”

“I really am okay where I am,” they nervously replied

“Out.”

“Yes sir,” they muttered as they did as they were told, sheepishly standing in front of the man, avoiding both his steely gaze and the one from their father who sat ways behind, arms crossed, a frown on his face.

“Look at me.” He called

Hesitantly, Dokucha turned their head to meet his eyes, shoulders up as they tried to shrink themselves.

“Why were you hiding?”

“…”

“Dokucha,” he sighed, crouching down in front of them.

“Listen, I’m not sure why you’re hiding. I don’t know if you think it’s because you’re in trouble or because you’re hiding something, but regardless, you need to let us know.

Yes. There will be consequences if you do what you aren’t supposed to, but ultimately, we just want to know what is wrong so we can help you.”

“Alright?”

“Okey,” they mumbled.

“Mind telling me why you were hiding?”

“I overused my ability again…”

“Dokucha, it’s the third time this week; what’s going on?” Hongo called as he stood up, walking closer

“The kids in the village said my ability was useless, so I stored all their weapons and things in my pocket dimension to show them it wasn't.

“Why are you trying to show off your ability lately?” The Doctor questioned

“Because…”

“Because?” Beckman drawled, raising an eyebrow

“Because I want to show I’m doing as much as you guys!” They cried, causing the men to look at them, shocked at the sudden outburst

“What are you on about?”

“W-well, Papa is a great Doctor and always makes sure everyone is healthy and ready to go; he’s like a wizard! Making all his concoctions for any occasion! Uncle Beckman is the backbone of the whole ship not to mention he has some superb moves.” Dokucha prattled on, using exaggerated hand movements as they praised the officer’s abilities

“But then there’s me... I’m just a glorified purse. All I can do is store things and scare people by making these pop-up,” Dokucha muttered as they extended their hand, watching as a mouth materialized on top of it.

The two men looked at each other as smiles slowly broke on their faces. Hongo let a few snickers out, catching the attention of the child.

“W-Why are you laughing! This is for real!”

“Sorry, Kid, I just found it funny that the most important member of our crew would think that way."

“How am I the most important?! If anything it would be Papa, or you Uncle Beckmann, or-or uncle Lucky he always makes sure we have energy to fight! There’s also Uncle Shanks! He is the Captain and the strongest one, too!”

“What do you think, Boss?” Hongo called out, looking behind him

“You can’t possibly think that Dokucha,” Shanks called with a small, serene smile on his face as he walked into the clinic.

“U-Uncle Shanks?”

“How about this? Can you remind me what our goal is now?” He inquired as he joined Benn in crouching down to be at their level.

“To get the one piece?”

“Yes, and can you remind me what the most important thing we need to get there is?”

“Road Poneglyphs?”

“Good job. One last one, can you tell me who keeps our Road Poneglyphs?”

“I do…” they stated, extending their hand once again and watching as a mouth once again materialized; this time, however, it began to cough, eventually spouting a stack of papers that the child grabbed, showing to the Captain.

“You are our Treasurer, Dokucha; you are the key to our goal. There are a lot of strong people out there; with enough training, anyone could become like us, but you are the only one who can do what you do, So take it from your Captain: you are essential to this crew, or do you believe me to lie?” Shanks questioned

“No Uncle Shanks”

“Atta Kid,” Shanks stated as he ruffled the child’s hair, standing up to allow Hongo to approach them.

“No one can keep our treasure safer than you can.” Hongo started as he picked them up

“Forget about the kids on the village; you are the Treasurer of the Red-haired pirates, so stand tall.”

With teary eyes, she took in all the men and the pride that shone in their eyes as they spoke their words

“Yeah!”

“What did you take from them that made you overuse your ability anyway? There’s no way those kids had weapons in them, and even if they did, it wouldn’t overwhelm your ability.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Dokucha began as she pulled on their father’s clothes to be let down; he raised an eyebrow and placed them on the floor, watching as a mouth materialized on their stomach and began to cough something out

“C-Chairs?” Shanks Gaped

“And the tables!” Dokucha proudly stated as said items were coughed out from them

“That feels so much better,” they huffed as they stretched.

“Why did you take their tables and chairs?” Beckmann spoke, staring at the furniture wide-eyed that now crowded the clinic

“They made me lose my appetite when they said those things to me, so I made sure they lost theirs too.”

“By taking the place they eat from?”

“Mmmm!”

“Dokucha....,” Hongo sighed, pinching the branch of his nose in frustration

“What? I felt petty!”

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Thought I forgot about that last part din’t you Anon? I couldn’t do a fridge but I did some other large furniture instead!