#act 1 silco getting everything after getting vander out of the way is just-

[blood-starved-beast]

Arcane act 1 really said “we’re gonna give you this misfit band of kids that you’ll grow to love then we’re gonna take that away from you and you’ll have to deal with it” huh. 

We’re introduced to Vander’s kids and they way it goes it’s as it were any other type of team of friends type beat. Mischievous kids who’re together as a team get into big trouble trying to do a thing but don’t worry it won’t have dire long term consequences right? 

That’s where Arcane gets you. If this were a show aimed at kids, or heck, any other show cause we know kids tend to be a protected entity in most adult media too, then that would be the end of it. Vander would’ve solved it, maybe wave Grayson away, and the kids would’ve been back to doing misadventures. Or if they want the kids to be more proactive, have them “make up” for it some other way (like help defeat Silco or something) through the power of friendship and it would be the end of that. 

But’s that not what happened. Things escalated, there aren’t clear answers cause it’s not just a thing between Vander - Grayson - and some abstract entity representing Piltover that would concede to what Grayson deems acceptable.  There’s a lot of pressure there, and it’s present even before Silco walks up to the plate. And unlike a kids’ show the kids aren’t immune when the pressure finally blows up. Heck, Vi makes a heroic decision to sacrifice herself, but she’s a kid out of her league and doesn’t know the whole picture and it all comes crashing down.

It’s part of how Arcane does subversion so well. Kids aren’t protected entities in this fiction (it doesn’t stop there after all, Jayce does kill that kid later on). The fact it sells you this early on really puts the stakes into the show and really gets you into the narrative, which is heighten by how go everything else is (voice acting, animation, etc.) and seals the impact there.

#Vi #Vander's kids #Grayson (arcane) #Vander #Arcane #my meta #it's one of those bruh moments #Runeterra really is a place that isn't safe for kids and Arcane does a good job of establishing that

[annabannnananana]

jinx headcanons i rlly wanna post 💣💫🔫☁️💀⚡️⚔️

• jinx actually likes chuck/theriam but no one can tell if she actually does or if she’s just being malicious lmao

•has bpd, adhd, c-ptsd, and sleep paralysis (poor girl)

•11-12 in the first act and like 18-19 in act 2 and 3

• has tried dating but it’s never worked and stopped trying once she turned like 16 or 17

• i think she’s scared of getting intimate with people she could hurt

• bi because i Said So

• she can't go to sleep unless there's music playing

• ‘get jinxed’ is a song in the arcane universe, and took inspiration from jinx herself, after being nearly killed trying to destroy a shimmer shipment

• doesn’t like alcohol (but silco wouldn’t let her drink anyway)

• jinx chooses not to make friends in fear of killing them, notice how spends so much time by herself

• jinx wanted ekko to survive the explosion- she could have easily pinned the bomb on him

• jinx knew who the firelight leader was but she never told silco- whether she wanted to let ekko live, or she wanted to be able to kill him herself, no one knows (personally i think the latter- notice how angry she looks at him in ep4!)

• also she used to have a crush on ekko

• had he survived, she and mylo would have bonded over feeling overlooked by vander

• jinx tries to climb as high as she possibly can and just. sits there doing whatever and hanging out sometimes. just to prove she can do it now

• jinx also leaves vi a present for every holiday. nobody knows how she’s getting the addresses but she does send her a genuine gift every time, and there’s very rarely a catch or twist to

• hanging out in benzo's shop with ekko, is where she learned to differentiate between what's valuable and what is not and that's why vi trusted her with that

• she only ever wanted to be useful to the people she loves- act 1: “i can help them/i only wanted to help!” as jinx: doesn’t care abt the shimmer business, but she’s do anything to be helpful to silco

• powder was already suffering from mental illness and inferiority complex (the latter mostly because of mylo) before everything that happened. you can see it in the way she bases her self-worth on how useful she is to the group, and also her breakdown when vi told her to stay back. the explosion is what ultimately caused her downward spiral, but she showed symptoms of mental illness prior to it

• powder was already a cruel and deranged girl, shown by her infatuation with weaponry and building weapons to kill- like her nail bombs

• speaking of, her infatuation with explosives began as an interest in gunsmithing (mostly out of a misguided belief that a gun could have saved her parents) that never amounted to anything but a mess of split barrels and burnt hand carved grips before vi convinced her to try skipping the middle step and make straight up explosives. after those didn't work either is when mylo started to call her a jinx

• she likes explosions because the ringing in her ears drowns out the voices in her head

•her blue smoke tattoos are a cry for help to vi- she never set off the flare so her other way of setting it off was to get the tattoos •silco braids jinx's hair whenever it grows too long. it's like meditation for him and allows him to reassess the world about him as he washes, combs and weaves her ever lengthening hair and admire the perfection that is his loving, growing daughter •this is the only time jinx allows her guard down around others. it's the only time that she can close her eyes and yet not hear the voices of her demons without loud music or explosions to drown them out

• jinx/powder are not anyone different. jinx is what powder would become anyway + mental issues due to her past. she would always be the cruel, chaotic, bomb mechanic girl. of course she would be better mentally if she didnt have her traumas and had a healthy enviroment but she is who she is.

• so powder is not gone, she just grew up. "jinx" is just her way to deal with her traumas, which clearly is not working well. this dealing method was told her by silco who believes he was reborn or something, leaving his weak past behind. "jinx" is an attempt of doing that but it doesnt work because their traumas are not the same as silco thinks so.

anyways that’s all for now I’ll prob add more later but I need a nap so bye y’all cya <3

#jinx arcane #jinx #arcane netflix #arcane league of legends #arcane #arcane headcanon #jinx headcanon #banana talks #banana writes

[mollysunder]

Potential Complications of Ekko's Time Shenanigans

There's a lot about Ekko that makes me nervous for him next season. Besides the fact that the Firelights tree house could easily get firebombed, because it's a literal hole in the ground with no cover. We'll ignore that most of the exits are above ground-level or sealed with a heavy door, and that some of the small metal fixtures on the treehouse look like human skulls. There's this larger, but more understated threat that Ekko's going to lose his mind after using the Z-Drive too many times.

When Vi berated herself for how she should have been there to protect Ekko, she wished that she could change the past, Ekko said, "That's a good way to drive yourself crazy". I thought that answer was pretty ironic, because wanting to change the past is his whole thing. At first I thought it could be a one off thing to tease Ekko's future ability. Then I remembered that Ekko has a joke voiceline that makes light of the effects of time travel on his mind. Sometimes Ekko would say, "Time scramble doesn't travel my brain.".

The dangers of the Z-Drive became more plausible the more I thought about Ekko's place in Zaun. Of the three most prominent minds in Arcane's Zaun (Singed doesn't count, he's from Piltover), two of them, Jinx and Viktor, deal with debilitating mental illnesses brought on by their respective work. For Jinx, her bombs killed her brothers, worsening her paranoia and fear of abandonement. While Viktor's work with the Hexcore has only further isolated him from his already small circle of friends, which will only make his future depressive spiral worse once the Hexcore causes him to be exiled in disgrace from Piltover. In both their cases, their work has lead them to be partially alienated within their communities, usually by their notoriety alone.

Ekko is supposed to be the exception to the rule for most Zaunite champions, but in Arcane he's not. Ekko builds technology to sabotage Silco's Shimmer supply chain, putting a target on himself and anyone associated with him. Ekko and the Firelights have to live clandestinely from the greater Zaun. Their fight against Silco has caused them to be less connected or just present in Zaun than someone like Jinx is. And on top of that isolation you have Ekko being placed in a de facto leadership position for his group for who knows how long, everyone there either looks the same-ish age as him, or are literal children. All the while he's responsible for the raids they carry out that were shown to carry a high fatality rate, at least one of the raid members looks younger than Jinx did in Act 1. Ekko may live in a nice tree, but he isn't doing well.

Then there's Heimerdinger, who is sure to be a pivotal influence on Ekko's story next season. Every mentor-student relationship in Arcane has shown that the students (Jinx, Vi, Viktor) inevitably internalized the lessons of their teachers (Silco, Vander, Singed). But more importantly, these pairs tend to share parallel experiences with one another, though it's more general than 1-to-1. And based on Hemierdinger's VA, Mick Wingert, the most defining aspect of Heimerdinger's characters was the suffering he experienced at the loss of his home, Bandle City, from the Rune Wars. Wingert stated that the closest frame of reference for the loss Heimerdinger experienced was similar to a Holocaust survivor. If the director and writers found Wingert's interpretation appropriate enough to play Heimerdinger, then part of that is likely to come through more in the next season.

Ekko's perspective is bound to change once he works with a person who will tell him that everything that can go wrong, in fact has gone wrong before. And the weight of Heimerdinger's words will probably carry considerable weight on Ekko's opinion next season. Heimerdinger's character is likely to fulfill the role of (grand)parental figure that Ekko has long needed. I can only see Heimerdinger heightening Ekko's fears and anxieties on the potential future disaster that will destroy his community and his responsibility in preventing it.

For next season, Ekko will probably believe he is at least partially responsible for Zaun and Piltover's war because he couldn't stop Silco or Jinx in time. When he finally creates the Z-Drive, he'll have the opportunity to rewrite every new potential mistake he could have made, even if it's only by 2-seconds. Ekko will either keep rewinding until he gets trapped in his own timeloop and breaksdown when he realizes his efforts are futile, or the instability of the Z-Drive creates too much attention and some outside party intervenes and pulls him out.

#ekko arcane #arcane #ekko #heimerdinger #heimerdinger arcane #arcane meta #arcane season 2 speculation #can you tell how badly i wanted to go further on the way ekko worries his future could turn out like Viktor's #it's pretty annoying how lol in general gives ekko a wide space between him and other zaun champions #that's only recently changed with zeri #sometimes we forget that Zaun is filled with “mad scientists” for a reason

[juniper-sunny]

The Art in the Heart - Chapter 8

Vander has some insights into your mutual friend, while Silco has some unnerving observations of his own to share…

Everybody Lives AU | Pre-Act 1 | Silco x Reader | Female!Reader | Slow Burn | Eventual Smut | Fluff | Mild Angst || SFW | TW: Mentions of Stalking | WC: 2.72k

ao3 || Masterlist || Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 3.5 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

taglist: @sherwood-forests @deny-the-issue @let-the-monster-out @ariaud @joscelyn02 @crunchlite

───────────────── ●◉◎◈◎◉● ─────────────────

You suppose you should be feeling lucky right now, upon waking up. Silco is nearby, and you don’t have a hangover despite last night’s festivities. What you do have, however, is cramps from the crouching position you were sleeping in. 

And a pain in your heart. An ache that chafes only when you look at your friend. 

As you raise your head, you look down to see yourself and Silco covered in patched, thick blankets. Two glasses of water covered with coasters stand patiently on the coffee table. 

You pick up a glass and sip the water slowly. Drinking in the sight of a sleeping Silco the whole time. 

Thinking back to the morning after his sleepover at your place, you had almost told him everything. But you didn't. He didn’t need to know, back then. After all, you were still in the getting-to-know-you phase of your friendship. No need to tell him all your secrets at once. 

Things are different now. Now he wants you to join the Children. 

You grip the cup tightly in your hands. Shaking slightly.

It's been a long time since you made a new friend. When is the right time to tell them your deepest, darkest secrets? When do the grains of sand in the hourglass gather high enough to bury you in guilt?

Whatever the right answer is, it's better late than never. It wouldn’t be fair to hide it from him any longer. You’ll have to tell him soon. 

Even if he changes his mind about you.

For now, you let yourself enjoy Silco’s company. Just another moment of watching his eyes dart underneath his eyelids. Dust motes dancing in the air and settling on his cheekbones. His chest rising and falling slowly, gentle snores filling the room.

You get up as quietly as you can, setting the now empty glass down on the coffee table. Draping your own blanket over Silco’s shoulders. 

Right before you cross the threshold into the pub proper, you look over your shoulder at him. One last time. 

________________________________________

On your way out, you bump into Vander taking inventory of the drinks behind the bar.

“Good morning,” you greet him, surprised. He was up later than you and is awake now? Those are long working hours. “Thanks for everything last night. Hope I wasn’t too much trouble.” 

“Morning,” he smiles. “Don’t worry, lass. You’re better company than most. How are you feeling?”

“Fine, thanks,” you yawn. “Could you tell Silco I said hi?”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about him. If you got a moment,” he nods at the counter. 

“Sure,” you pull out a bar stool and take a seat, curious about what Vander wants to say.

He leans forward, palms pressed on the edge of the bar. “How long have you known him?” 

“Hmm… a little over two months now? Give or take a couple weeks,” you say thoughtfully.

The barman whistles in awe. “That’s not long… you really are something.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, concerned. A sharp, almost panicked edge in your voice. 

Vander drums his fingers on the bar. “Round these parts, Silco brings us the most reliable intelligence. He’s never let us down before, and he never, ever, tells us who his sources are. Something about not compromising their integrity. And he never asks us to let them join the Children.” 

You fidget in your seat. A lump in your throat makes it hard to get the words out, “Wait… Are you saying I’m not just a ‘source’ to him?”

“You’re something more than that,” he says. “He hasn’t said anything, but I can tell from the way he talks about you. And to you.” 

The pain in your heart is briefly overtaken by a flutter of hope. A baby bird tentatively learning to take flight. 

“Nobody cares more about the Nation of Zaun than Silco,” Vander continues. “But I worry that he doesn’t make room for anything else. If he finds someone he cares about— really cares about— it’ll help remind him that we’re doing this for real people. Not just an idea.”

“He cares about you and Sevika, doesn’t he? And the rest of the Children?”

Vander shakes his head. “That’s different. We’re prepared to go down swinging. I’ll bet he’s told you that if we die, ‘it should be a cause for celebration not mourning’?”

You nod. 

“He needs reminding that the cause isn’t just worth dying for, it’s worth living for too. That people besides us would miss him when he’s gone.” 

You know that Vander means you when he says “people”. You were already worried for him when you first found out he was a member of the rebel group. 

If you lost him now, though? Now that you’ve become friends?

Now that you want to be… more than friends? 

You have to admit it. You’d be devastated.

You clench your fists and raise them to your chest unconsciously. Trying to physically protect your heart from the notion of Silco’s death. 

“What are you trying to say, Vander?” you ask quietly.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do. But you’re a good woman and I hope you stick around, for his sake,” he says. He tilts his head encouragingly at you. “You saw how happy you made him last night. He could make you happy, too.” 

You turn over his words in your mind. Sitting who knows how long in silence. 

Part of you wants to tell Vander that he doesn’t even know you, not really. Another part of you is thrilled that your deepest wishes about Silco’s feelings might be true. 

But when you think about what you have yet to tell him, it hurts all the more. 

That you could lose it all. 

“Thanks, Vander,” you hop off the seat. You give him a small smile, hoping it conveys the depth of your gratitude that you don’t quite have the words for. “When Silco wakes up… could you tell him— if he wants to hang out— to meet me at the bridge? On the Zaun side?”

“Sure,” he nods, winking kindly at you. 

Right before you exit, you call out, “Can you ask him to bring a backpack?”

________________________________________

Less than an hour later, Silco’s there. Waiting for you.

You try your best to close the distance as fast as you can. It’s hard with the oversized, heavy grocery wagon you’re pulling along. 

He’s leaning against the railing of the bridge, smoking. Backpack strap slung over one shoulder. When you approach him, he flicks the cigarette away. Standing up straight to greet you with a smile.

“Hi,” he says. He pulls your jacket out of his backpack and hands it to you. “You left this behind last night. Thank you, by the way.”

“No worries,” you smile back at him as you don your jacket. “How are you holding up?”

He rubs his temples. “I’ve certainly been in better form after a night of indulgence. But it could also very much be worse.” 

“Good thing you didn’t do any knife tricks,” you tease him.

“My apologies for my uncouth manner last night,” Silco cringes. “And for burdening you at the end of our revelry. Is there any possible way I could make it up to you?”

You grin at him. “I’m not going to lie, I was hoping you’d say that.”

________________________________________

Topside’s farmers’ market is perhaps the jewel of the whole city. Sure, the small wooden stalls and tiny pop-up shops can’t hold a candle to the grand architecture of institutions like the Piltover Academy, but it’s the sheer bustle and life of the area that draws you in. Countless vendors selling their wares, mostly imported vegetables and meats from far off lands. Artisans and hobbyists showing off handmade crafts and goods, calling out and haggling spiritedly with customers. Even the odd street performer or two enlivens what would otherwise be an overly prudish crowd just milling around to shop. 

It’s one of your favorite places to visit in Topside. Nobody cares if you’re from Zaun, Piltover, or even foreign lands like Noxus or Ionia. You don’t even need to spend coin to enjoy the sights. You can be yourself around here.

Before you enter the area, Silco clears his throat. “Is this your intended destination?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” You ask. 

He glances around surreptitiously. “How do Topsiders feel about weapons being openly carried on one’s person?”

“It probably wouldn’t be okay. Why? Are you carrying?”

He nods. On his belt is a sheathed knife, which he removes and places in his backpack. “Let us proceed.”

“Sorry, I should have told you,” you curse at yourself for your thoughtlessness. (If Silco got arrested because of you, you would never forgive yourself—)

“It’s quite alright. I presume we’re here to do some shopping?”

“Yup! Have you ever been here before?”

“I’m afraid not,” he says dryly. “Most of my ventures Topside tend to involve less… sanctioned matters.” 

“I’ll show you around then,” you say excitedly. “There’s some pretty cool stuff here!”

The truth is you do have a deadline, but you want to give Silco a chance to enjoy the sights. Instead of hitting your usual stalls and shops with the practiced speed and efficiency of a regular visitor, you take your time. Pointing out exotic produce and holding them up for Silco to look at closely. Smirking when he scoffs at a seller who claims to have the bitterest fruit in all of Runeterra. Trying and failing not to laugh when he samples said fruit and almost immediately spits it out. 

Your shopping trip carries on peacefully like this. The grocery wagon slowly filling with eggs, meats, fruits, rice, breads, pastas, vegetables, snacks, spices, sauces, and cooking oils. All of it is stacked carefully, almost overflowing. His backpack is used to keep soaps and detergents separate from the foodstuffs. When he insists on pulling the wagon, you accept.

It would be nice if this were all you needed to do today, if you had nothing more pressing to think about than shopping. But when you ask Silco if he needs to take a break, he nods. Turning to you with a serious look on his face. 

“May I speak with you about what transpired last night?” Silco asks. His lips pressed together in a tight, thin line.

You nod hesitantly. 

When you find an empty bench near a fountain, you both take a seat. He leans forward. Resting his elbows on his legs and slowly wringing his hands.

“My apologies, again, if my wish for you to join the Children disconcerted you in any way,” he says regretfully. “I never meant for you to find out in such an objectionable manner.” 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “I don’t know why you want me to join, though.”

He bites his bottom lip, deliberating for a moment. Then turning to face you.

“You are kind, resourceful, and brave,” he looks at you warmly when you blush from embarrassment. “The Children of Zaun would be blessed with great fortune if you did choose to join our ranks. However… I must admit I have an ulterior motive for extending an offer of membership.”

“What??” Your voice is timid and you freeze in your seat. (You must have done something wrong. Of course you did, you always do—)

“I’m afraid this might alarm you, but I have noticed someone shadowing your footsteps, as of late. My attempts to track them down have yet to yield any success.”

So he already knows about your stalker? It’s almost a relief that he’s the one to bring it up. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that. It’s probably nothing.” 

He sits up, clenching his fists. Brows furrowed in anger. “So you knew??”

“It’s whatever,” you shrug. “Well, it’s kind of annoying when I’m painting. But other than that it’s not a big deal.”

“‘Not a big—’” Silco repeats, then groans in frustration. Bolting out of his seat to pace furiously like a frantic dog in a cage. “You are being hounded by someone who knows where and when you work! Their intentions are unknown to you and yet you choose to do nothing?!”

“What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I could— I can’t chase them down and fight them or something,” you point out.  

Silco opens his mouth as if to continue arguing, then stops himself. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm down. 

“I cannot allow this stranger to approach you if they mean you harm. If you were to join the Children, then I would be more readily available to protect you at all hours.” He kneels and places his hands over yours, squeezing lightly. “Please.” 

This is… not what you were expecting. At all. You’re touched by his concern. The contentment that’s been glowing in your chest all morning blooms into joy. 

Still, you can’t help but wonder if this is worth all the trouble. It’s one thing to idly daydream about Silco helping you; it’s another story when he’s actually going out of his way to do so. 

(You’re not worth it.)

You close your eyes. Pondering your reply with a heavy heart. 

“Silco… thank you,” you say slowly. “But I’m in the middle of a commission right now. I have to finish it. So I can’t join the Children. Not right now, anyways.” 

He squints at you, lips narrowing in disappointment. Then he sighs in defeat. “Somehow it doesn’t surprise me to know that you value your craftsmanship over your own well-being. If you were a lesser artist, perhaps you would have made the better choice.”

“If I were a lesser artist, we would never have met,” you point out with a smile. “I’d never have gotten commissioned to do the mural.” 

“If art were not your profession, I would have endeavored to find you in other ways,” he says with a determined look.

“Really? Even if all I did was paint penises on walls?” You laugh at your own joke. 

“No matter what you paint, I would still consider myself a lucky man to have met you,” Silco says matter-of-factly. Squeezing your hands again. 

With how much blushing you’re doing, you wonder if your face is as red as the tomatoes you purchased today. You look away at the fountain, contemplating throwing yourself in so you can swim away. 

“If you won’t join the Children,” he continues, “please at least allow me to safeguard you while you work.”

“I don’t want you to waste your time—”

“No time spent with you is wasted. Ever,” he says sternly. “Please. If not for you, then for my own peace of mind.” 

Well, when he puts it that way…The baby bird in your chest flutters again. Wings of hope and happiness filling your heart. “Alright.”

Silco’s smile is bright and lights up his whole face. His almost dopey grin revealing almost all of his chipped teeth. 

You can’t help but grin back at him too. 

As you stand, you put on Silco’s backpack. Reluctantly pulling your hands away as he rises to his feet. “We should get going. Don’t want the food to go bad.”

“Are you endeavoring to feed an army of some sort?” Silco asks as you both head out to the bridge, away from Piltover and towards the Promenade. 

“Something like that,” you tug on the backpack straps. “Do you have plans for today?”

“Not at all. I am at your disposal for as long as you need me.” Gods, it’s like Silco is incapable of saying no to you today. You’re not going to lie, it’s pretty nice. 

You approach a bathysphere ticket booth at the edge of the Promenade. After purchasing two tickets, you hand one to Silco. Soon after, the bathysphere is ready to depart.

When the two of you and your cargo are both situated inside, Silco gives you an inquisitive look. “Where are we taking all this?”

“Janna’s Hearth.” The orphanage you were raised in. 

He waits for you to elaborate. You just give him an enigmatic smile and look out the window.

He doesn’t need to know. Not just yet. You just want to enjoy spending as much time with him as possible... Before you have to tell him the truth.

Chapter 9

#Arcane #Arcane fanfic #Silco #Silco x Reader #Arcane Silco #Silco Arcane #my writing #The Art in the Heart #TAITH #tw stalking #stalking tw

[friskarm]

man being vi in arcane sucks so bad

its really easy to look at what happened to jinx and think holy fuck that sucks. bc it does! but vi went through as much shit. god.

the first thing is how she’s kinda parentified a bit by vander. he means well, and shit he’s doing a lot better for these kids than leaving them out on the street, but in act 1 vi is still a kid too! you can see what vander was trying to communicate with that "it's on you" convo but he left the complete wrong message. sometimes it's not on you, actually.

then her entire family barring her sister is blown up. by her sister. she forces herself to be an adult after realising she's losing it and makes the incredibly mature decision to walk away to cool down and process, but fate interferes in the worst way. she's thrown in prison.

im not going to get into how awful prison is but let's agree throwing someone into prison is just. one of the worst ways to ruin people. vi was subject to constant beatings and isolation. the fact that she's as stable as she is coming out of it is kind of a miracle.

by caitlyn comes in and busts her out. and vi is admittedly taking her for a bit of a ride to begin with. i don't think vi necessarily doesn't want to help her but finding powder >>>>>> getting this piltie chick dirt on silco.

and all she hears from silco's goons is that oh, jinx works for silco. she's like his daughter. they're family. which must be such a horrifying thing to learn when your last memory of the dude is him kidnapping your adoptive dad and ruining your life.

and then she finally finds powder and it's good, and things are almost working out, but caitlyn shows up, and aggresses her a bit, and she almost manages to regain control of the situation but then ekko runs in and ruins everything.

and vi is so pleased to see ekko but how much must it have hurt to see one of her only allies down in the undercity tell her that her whole reason for living -- to get powder back -- is pointless? vi talks so much about how the thought of getting back to powder was her only motivation for getting through each day in prison.

and vi doesn't give up. but she never gets any real agency to change things with powder after that. she has to chose between confronting powder or helping caitlyn get the gem back (to presumably save caitlyn's life and prevent all-out war between piltover and zaun). and vi is learning to see the big picture! she doesn't want to leave powder behind, not at all. but she's starting to believe in what people have been telling her, just a bit.

then nothing fucking works in piltover, because why would it? it all goes to shit and she heads back to zaun in despair. at least she wins vs sevika in round 2? but it's a fight full of misery.

and then there's the whole dinner party scene. vi just has not had a proper chance to sit down with powder in a situation where they can talk. so vi never gets the chance to understand what her sister is saying. she's trying -- she's doing her best -- and i really do believe that given the opportunity, vi would be able to understand. but she's never given that chance. it's out of her hands.

and then jinx fires fishbones.

vi spends so much of her time just. trying to catch up. trying to do the right thing. but she never gets the opportunities she needs to. really know what she needs to do.

but she tries so, so hard.

#arcane #arcane analysis #vi #jinx #i trust vi so much i really hope she doesn't give up on her sister #ep 9 kinda ended like she did #but #it's not over #it's not over until it's over #i hope caitlyn encourages her to make amends #no matter how i slice it like that line from the trailer #caitlyn doesn't want to kill jinx bc jinx is important to vi #i hope they can make it work #:(

[apprenticestanheight]

Sacrifice- Silco

Okay, hi! First Silco fic, so this part is my obligatory ask for forgiveness if Silco is at all ooc. This is the first time I’m writing for him and I haven’t seen the show in a bit. 

This one is set maybe a year or two into the time jump between act 1 and act 2 in the show. Jinx is 14, Silco and the reader are both 40-41

My requests are currently open for Silco, Viktor, and Jayce, if you’d like to send something in!

fic type- angst that leads into fluff

warnings- mentions of being stabbed, a punctured lung, blood, a few allusions to water and one mention of what vander did to silco

As Silco sat on the plush red couch in his office, trying to force his mind off of the fact that you were laying, wounded and asleep, in the bed in the room next door, some part of him wondered when enough would finally be enough, when whoever it was that controlled the happenings of the universe would finally decide to stop throwing things your way. 

Silco had thought the worst of the waves had dulled after Vander had almost killed him, then again when finally, he managed to overtake Zaun. When he met Jinx, when he married you under the cover of night, the officiant of the wedding having been the only witness. 

Though, in the years after, as your marriage hit five years, then six, then seven, your relationship climbing past the one decade mark, he realized that it wasn’t the calm of the storm. The two of you were in the eye of the hurricane. Everything seemed calm, but in reality, outside of your bubble, nothing was. It was a constant fight to keep things in order, keep things from crumbling. 

“How many more sacrifices am I going to have to make,” Silco thought aloud as he reached across the expanse of the couch, finding a pack of cigars and his lighter. He brought one of them to his lips, lighting it carefully. “When does enough finally become enough in the eyes of god?” He inhaled, let his head fall back, and exhaled through his nose.

“How many more times can I almost lose them before someone decides enough is enough, and I lose them permanently?” He willed his eyes to close. “When will I finally have made enough sacrifices?” 

In Silcos line of work, making sacrifices was commonplace. It was normal, something that one did on a regular basis, but nearly twenty years? A relationship that’d begun at eighteen, resulted in a marriage at twenty-one and was still holding strong after nearly two decades? How much more sacrifice--how many more times wherein sacrifice was something he would’ve so much as debated--was needed? How much more of it could Silco withstand? 

He sighed, putting out the cigar and standing, leaving his office, going to his bedroom. 

You were sitting up, awake, Jinx at the foot of the bed. 

“Don’t make me laugh too hard,” you said cautiously as you grinned, clutching the side you’d been stabbed on. “My stitches might rip, is all. Rather not give your father another scare.” 

“He seemed worried,” Jinx noted. “You--the--it scared him. He looked scary.” 

“He gets protective over the people he loves,” you said. “It’s a Silco thing, Jinx. He looks scary because he’s afraid and is often terrible at hiding it.” 

“I’m not terrible at it,” Silco said in his own defense. Your eyes snapped to his, meeting his gaze. “I just don’t have the mind to make it seem like I’m as nonchalant about these things as I used to be. You were stabbed, Y/N. Allow me a bit of fear, even in our old age.” 

You laughed as Silco further entered the room, closing the door behind him as he walked. He joined you in bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Jinx, why don’t you go get dinner donwstairs?” Not a subtle statement to get your adoptive daughter to leave, but one that worked. 

Jinx grinned, stepping off the bed and shouting an ‘I love you!’ as she left. You shouted it back, and Silco told her to be careful--there was a step in the staircase with rotted wood that still needed to be replaced--whilst knowing that the words were probably falling on deaf ears. 

The two of you existed in the gracious silence for the next ten minutes, only the sound of rain rapidly hitting the window filtering through the room. Silco was deep in his thoughts once again, trying to figure out what to say. 

“There has not been a day in my life where I’ve been particularly religious,” he said. “And yet, sometimes, when I look at you across the bar, when we get to enjoy the occasional quiet morning or easy afternoon, I find myself entirely convinced that there is a god, and that he made us for one another. I simply cannot imagine a life without you in it, let alone one that feels so perfect.” 

“I love you, Sil,” you said. 

Silco pressed a kiss to your forehead as the two of you moved to lay down. “Twenty minutes til Jinx comes back here,” he said. “Rest up, Y/N. We’ll both need it to be able to handle the next two and a half hours.” 

You laughed, shaking your head at him even though you knew he was right. 

Sleep washed over both of you quickly, like a tide finally reaching the shore, leaving your hearts content as you drifted. 

#silco #silco x reader #arcane

[tykobrian]

Arcane Twitter has been on Vi's ass again it seems... (Alternate title: who's the REAL jinx again?)

I swear to god those people come up with so many dumb reasons to hate on her. I think I wasted like an hour going back and forth with three of them then later deleted everything because most of them started going off-topic.

Anyway, if you ever asked me, what things Vi could've done differently (and should consider not doing in the future) to prevent things from getting worse, I would point to the following:

Before I start, I'd like to say that as of the post act 1 time skip era, Vi's only purpose in life is to reunite with her sister again, so all my points are on the ways she failed her. Or rather if Vi must continue beating herself up, she should consider the following times she screwed up, not the time she "abandoned powder to be moulded into a monster by Silco by getting kidnapped":

Vi deciding to follow her parents to the battlefield with baby Powder severely traumatized her and kickstarted her mental problems.

Vi deciding to undergo a dangerous but unnecessary job like robbing Jayce's apartment put everyone in danger including her sister who narrowly avoided being blown up by hex crystals.

Vi's baffling decision to hide the existence of the hex crystals in powder's possession from Vander only made things worse. Perhaps those "jewels" were very precious and Piltover was furious to see zaunites stealing them from them and hated to see them get away like this. Anyway, Vander was always on their side. Vi just unnecessarily kept him in the dark to do god knows what. And we know what happens next.

After the time skip, Vi's decision to give the council Jinx's name is THE actual decision that will be the nail in the coffin of Vi and Jinx's relationship. Don't get me wrong, if Vi never gave away Jinx's name Jayce could have demanded Silco to bring in the person or people responsible for the bombings. My point is, JIN'X SISTER VOLUNTARILY GAVE HER UP TO THE M?TH?RF?CK?NG COUNCIL. Jinx hates that Vi is cozying up to an enforcer. This caused her a considerable amount of mental anguish. AND SHE HASN'T YET LEARNED OF WHAT VI DID IN THE COUNCIL MEETING. When she will, and I bet my bottom dollar she will because this is Arcane, it's really over. Now Jinx has accepted that Vi doesn't love her like she used to all these years ago. But when she learns of this, she'll probably believe the present Vi doesn't love her at all and is all about Piltover. And then this scenario becomes more believable.

···

Jinx already wanted to open fire on Vi when she thought Vi only came to see her take the hex crystal away from her. She'll blame her for complicating the deal between Jayce and Silco and forcing Silco to consider giving (I know Silco would never but Jinx doesn't) her up and for his abduction to the wacky tea party. She will blame Vi for making her think that she had to choose between Vi and Silco while actually, Sico was loyal to her until his death when Vi sold her out and kept lying about being on her side and wanting to run away with her.

Oh and Vi herself is going to join the enforcers, supposedly to stop Jinx from causing more damage to Piltover? Jinx would LOVE THAT.

So yeah, it looks like Season 2 is going to be ROUGH for the siblings.

#arcane #arcane vi #arcane jinx #brotp: are we still sisters

[space-blue]

Ask game:

Fathers and Daughters: 1, 2, 4, 5, 11, 12, 13, 15

Wow, Anon, take me to diner first! (I'm joking, thank you so much, that's such a big ask! I'll try to be concise) From these fic asks.

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

Not sure about what way. The style, the topic? Why Silco adopting Vi? I'll go with that. The show had just ended, and everything was pain. I wanted a better version, where Silco was a little better, and Vi wasn't so…. underdeveloped. I felt like she was the worst character, completely shafted by the narrative to be our POV into act II and III and sped run through a dubious romance. Beyond that I had very few rational thoughts. I was a brain inflamed. Star Wars? Original fiction I was supposed to do Nano about? Out the fucking window. I had to process all these feelings… I was inspired by how fucking INSANE that show made me. I never experienced a brain rewiring like I did with Arcane. I was also turbo stressed at the time, and obsessing over the fic was pure escapism.

2: What scene did you first put down?

Literally chapter 1. I don't pre write, and I don't plot. I literally sat down and wrote : "Vi doesn't really understand who pulled what sort of levers, for her to be walking free again after only two months in a Piltovan holding jail." and ran from there.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

That is impossible to answer!! 80% of the fic is dialogue! The entire story is character moving from one dialogue to another! Okay… If I have to pick, for brevity's sake I'll go for that early introduction of Syd's character :

'Stop hiring idiots and get some kids off the streets for me. At least I can train kids!! Fuck, I could train a cat to do this job, but not the fuckos in that last batch. ASK IF THEY CAN DO MULTIPLICATIONS!! I'm not running a candy shop!' is adorning the bottom of a wholesaler's receipt.

I felt very smug later on, when I was able to recall that bit when Silco introduces Syd to Vi :

'You said you'd rather train someone than inherit incompetents,' Silco protests, jabbing a finger into Syd's chest. 'As I recall, you said you could train a cat to do the job. I think Vi is probably smarter than that.'Vi snorts. 'Well, thanks.'

5: What part was hardest to write?

I have more hard chapters than I care to admit. I think the second big Silco and Vi conversation (about Vander and Silco's past) was very hard because I was using two different sets of notes. Some written about Silco's backstory, back when Talia (Sevika's sister) had a pretty different role, and I had a pretty poor grasp of Vander as a character. The other notes were written because I was struggling with the early part of the chapter. By the time I'd caught up to that scene, I was juggling all this pre-written content and I haaaate that.

Another rough one was the first Vi chapter after all those Silco PoVs. I never really managed to recover my Vi voice. I think she sounds weaker in newer chapters and gives me more grief. My betas don't see it, so it's probably in my head x'D

11: What do you like best about this fic?

The universe it created, that's home to other little fics. It's just kinder than the canon universe, but not completely different. It's a space that's fun to live in, as a writer, more than my other AUs. I also love how much fun I've been able to have with minor characters like Mek or Syd, and how it gave me such a big audience to pitch my Dark!Vander theory ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

12: What do you like least about this fic?

How hard it's gotten to write. Also, how long it is… Because see, if I lack inspiration or am stuck, I'll usually reread everything I have… I've re-read this fic to death, can't handle it anymore. Still, I love it to death—yet I'm tired of it. I kind of know where I'm going with the ending, and it's making a lot of the writing tedious, like I over-plotted. I end up extending it with surprise chapters like the last one, just to keep myself on my toes. That's how you add 12 chapters without noticing though, so I gotta be careful.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

I listen to a lot of weird shit. I've listened to the full Arcane OST times and times again, of course, but I also listen to a lot of "viking" music (Danheim, Heilung, Forndom, Wardruna…), all three albums of Carbon Based Lifeforms I own (Hydroponic Gardens, Interloper, Derelicts), the latest Black Keys (Delta Kream), and a ton of mixes of Vapor Wave, tribal/folk electronica, tech noir, and other techno/electronic music, jazz/bossa nova, and lofi. Here are some of the youtube mixes I listen to regularly. And yeah, also a LOT of skyrim/Jeremy Soule music lol

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

That being a turbo panther doesn't actually get in the way of writing good character development and multi chapter emotional arcs. I kept not wanting to "rush" Vi to the point where she just accepts Silco. I knew it was an end goal, for her to love him… But I didn't have a scene in mind, and I'm glad that painstakingly writing everything blind, in a linear fashion, didn't actually get in the way of making it work! I honestly wasn't sure, this is my best and longest work to date after all!!

#thanks for the ask! #anon ask #ask game #thanks anon #arcane #fanfic #fathers and daughters #ask away #long post

[a-gal-with-taste]

hii, i love your writings !! i just got that idea, what about arcane characters (one-shots or anything/anyone to your liking) x counsellor reader?

[Finishes reading Impossible Colors by @iseutz for the XXXth time] ... yes.

Warnings: Shortly after Act 1, AU, power-dynamics, flirting as politics/politics as flirting, Reader-surname, pining, so much eye-fucking oh my god-

"It seems we have been caught in sight of the Eye, Councilor Kesare." Councilor Medarda mused, just as you brought the thin tube of sparkling champagne to your lips. "I venture we not be the first to look away. He might perceive that as weakness."

"Or as a declaration of war," You comment back after taking a sip, tilting your chin up as you stared across the garden courtyard. "Representative Silco seems to pounce at any sign of a challenge."

The Nation of Zaun was still a concept many in higher-power struggled to grasp, even with it's leader standing amongst them. Or rather, standing out. In inky blacks and blood reds, colors accented in gold, the representation for the ex-Undercity (now sovereign nation) made a severe impression in the line of Piltover's council.

Visually, and by the ferocity he exhibited just by looking at you.

Undaunted, you smile and lift your glass slightly in acknowledgment, his own remaining untouched as it's swirled in his hand. "Still debating if your act of provocation is wise," Mel murmured beneath her breath, also studying the man who wasn't even pretending to listen to Heimerdinger's attempts at conversation. "Because if we're going to discuss pouncing..."

"Mel."

The gold-freckled woman blinked, her eyes glinting. "On the opportunities, Councilor. You have to admit, he's been gunning to you for a conversation ever since you were the first to vote him into his position." A thoughtful hum, but that cheek and sharp calculating mind was glowing behind the façade of mirth. "Be wise to watch out. Cassandra seems ready to but a divider up between your two seats. Or, if you're feeling bold..."

A tilt of your head, and you glanced your eyes over. In a span of a minute, the Yordle professor had given up on his attempts to pry further into Zaun's well-kept secrets of chem-tech, leaving Representative Silco to slowly, languishing stride towards you.

"You could meet him halfway," Mel finished, an innocent look on her face, but you knew better.

The Council of Piltover, a united force, was divided into factions that were as clear as day.

Cassandra, Bolbok and Heimerdinger fancied themselves as the brilliant, and the wise, Salo had latched himself as discreetly as possible to the guiding hand of Shoola the moment of his elevation, and depending on the number of drinks he had, Hoskel could be friends with just about anyone.

Mel Medarda was a faction of her own, with her being it's sole-leader and member. Others in her single-party were merely guests - honored, and valued when she needed them, but guests.

That left you, and now Representative Silco, as lone parties.

And everyone, especially Medarda, was keeping a keen eye as to whether one of you would stay in place, move back a step into one of the better-known factions, or team up. As what kind of team, was uncertain, but no one forgot for a moment that the first hand to rise, after the motion of sovereignty for Zaun was introduced, had been yours.

Least of all Silco, who finally came to a stop before the two of you.

"Councilors."

"Representative."

Though one was technically a newly-designated king, no one in the trio bowed. Instead, Mel extended her hand and without skipping a beat, Silco gave her a chaste, charming brush on her knuckles, after raising it to mouth-level. The one he gave you burned, his lips as much as his eye when he refused to look away, pulling back only when Mel started speaking. "I trust that the Professor wasn't left too disgruntled. I know how terribly interested he is to dissect the technology of the Undercity."

"It's primitive to him, I believe he's simply more fascinated to see how we've managed to survive this long under such primitive mechanics," The scarred man said smoothly. "I'm sure he's also eager to get a hold of the sample you promised," The Noxian said, teeth flashing as she raised her glass to her lips again. "I believe we all are."

"I'll reach out to my lead scientist to see how that sample is coming along... though, we're not looking to rush it, Shimmer is rather uncontrollable if not carefully regulated, even for a simple sample." There was a glint of teeth as well from Silco, Zaunite imperfection and grit clearly visible underneath the façade in his chipped teeth. "We only want the best for Piltover, after all. I would so hate to give you a bad batch."

"Hm." It was technically polite, but Medarda narrowed her eyes, trying to pierce through the enigma that was Silco of Zaun, and finding yet another layer to work through. "Best of luck, Representative. I know we all look forward to seeing the relationship between Piltover and Zaun grow... Kesare." You took the farewell for what it was, and nodded as the Noxian took her leave in grace, and in thought.

Leaving you alone with Silco.

"I do believe she despises me," The man hummed casually as he slipped into the vacant space beside you, placing a palm on the railing so he could lean. It wasn't so much casual, as it was a position that made him look like it was all beneath him, the pomp and circumstance, cunning and politics...

But you saw the way he looked at you, and offered a smile in kind under his unyielding gaze. "Only your excuses, and by extension, making her wait. I don't think she appreciates having her premature plans derailed, when you give her such little material in the first place."

The Zaunite leader hummed, looking over over the balcony with gloved nails tapping on the polished marble. "She has my condolences... I personally know the pain of having your plan go awry."

"Oh?"

A simple nod in confirmation is all he offers, before, subtly, he tips his hand and jerks his hand out, dumping the trumpet of light liquor out over the balcony, not a drop of the offered Piltover-drink even tasted. He politely sets the now-empty glass on the balcony, before the King of Zaun offers his arm to you, and who are you to disregard such a polite offer of companionship with a man of such high station?

"Recent plans have been set off-kilter. Not that the result is unfavorable, but regardless, I ponder often about what could've been."

"Dare I ask what you ponder?"

Silco smiles, a disarming thing, as the two of you walk around a bubbling fountain. Not only out of earshot, but also out of immediate sight from others, with lower-tones muted in compared to the rush of artistically flowing water.

When one becomes a councilor, you start to notice these kind of things.

"I ponder how a war with Topside could have gone," He says, brushing away nonexistent dust off the marble ledge before sitting down, regally as befitting his station, but also casually, like it's an office chair. "Me and mine were fully equipped for it. I'd spent a large part of my life waiting for the opportunity, yet here I am. Everything I've worked for, without a drop shed."

Any other Councilor would be more than slightly alarmed; Cassandra would already be breaking the terms of the brand new Piltover-Zaun Accordance and calling for an arrest.

You are only curious though. "You expected a war. Did you truly expect to win?" It's not admonishing, but the black-red eye flicks to you in displeasure nonetheless, although his tone is simple.

"I expected to scare them."

Them?

You raise the glass to your lips, along with a brow, but you hold his gaze in the silence as you slowly took a delicate sip. You don't believe you see any of the three complete eyes blink, until the champagne smooths down your throat, and you lower the glass from your lips. "I don't know if you've forgotten, but I believe I officially consist as one of them, Representative."

"I would prefer hearing you use my name. Silco," It's smooth, and automatic, as the man leans back slightly. The gold accent of his vest, curiously freshly mended but still a faint, aged smell of smoke in the air when the breeze picks up, glints in the sunlight as he watches you study him. "And I think you've proven yourself to be something quite... other, than the rest of the members of your position, Councilor."

"I prefer hearing you say my first-name," You corrected him, only a bit coy when you see his teal-eye hood slightly as you offer it. "And I believe I know why you would think that. My first impression was rather unique to you, I can imagine."

"A Topsider giving everything I've ever worked for, all with a single raise of a hand... yes. A very unique, and quite memorable introduction to one another, I believe." A beat, then you see a smouldering flicker in both the hellfire eye, and the other. "Why?"

For a moment, you allow yourself to get scorched by his rawly searching gaze. Undercity citizens, now known as Zaunites, were not a breed of people that you had much interaction with, and the bluntness that Silco exhibited from his life underground was oddly refreshing. You wanted to lean forward to catch every sudden, sharp and defined word, drag your gaze to catch the loose, but prepared body-language that hinted he was ready for everything and anything.

And he still composed himself with grace, with regality. Things you'd dealt with before but, as ridiculous and juvenile as the thought was, you couldn't help but appreciate the stark difference Silco brought to it.

And you couldn't help but lean in, with your desire to experience more.

"Can we be honest with one another, Silco?" Your low murmur had him smoothly leaning closer to you, to the point where you could almost outline the faint, yellowing bruises of fingers on the exposed part of his neck the collar didn't cover. "I think I would enjoy having a Councilor be wholly, completely honest with me."

"Just as I would enjoy having a King be honest with me," You counter smoothly, and see a curl on thin lips when he accepts the offer, dipping his chin. "The council had no plans for the undercity. I doubt they ever would've found it in them to care to make some, or develop relations beyond what's already there," You shrug, and elegantly flick your eyes away from him to bring glass to your lips, murmuring over it. "Seems a bit of a waste, to claim ownership of a city you want no part with, besides the cheap labor it offers, scapegoats and entertainment for our officers."

"It wasn't called the Playground without reason," Silco coincides, eyes flicking down to watch you set the now empty-champange glass down. He's slow to return his eyes to his, observing you fold your hands atop your lap, the relaxed roll of your shoulders before finally reaffirming the heated eye-contact that could've sparked a fire between you. "So you raised your hand to rid Piltover of a toy they didn't want anymore?"

"I raised my hand to give the Undercity the opportunity to escape Piltover's shadow," You counter, and then smile. "And, in goodwill. For I can imagine relations between Zaun and Piltover will improve from this, greatly."

"Ah, cross-nation relations." He seems intrigued by the notion. "Yes, I do believe I will enjoy watching those improve. Perhaps with additional participation?"

"Careful," You muse under your breath, eyes going hooded. "You're still new to politics, Silco. Don't ask for too much without making any offers." He hums at that for a beat, giving a casual look around the luscious, beautiful courtyard, that he obviously thought little of. You also found it hard to admire the fountains and prized flora, when you saw his cheek poke out slightly from his tongue pressing within.

"Than allow me to offer you an opportunity of my own," He finally says, glancing back at you, eyes causing sparks within you. "Zaun has it's own brand of... beauty and elegance, when one knows where to look. I feel like I would be sufficient enough as a sort of guide."

A tour of a kingdom? Silco must've seen your brow quirk at that, and he smirked right back at you for your dubiousness. "A method of improving relations with Piltover and Zaun... a Councilor and a King spending time outside official cross-nation meetings, would be a worthy start to such a momentous venture, don't you think?"

"I thought we agreed to be honest with one another, Silco. You could just outright ask me," You muse. "Very well," The King of the Underground only grows his smirk, and you taste smoke on your tongue at the same time as his eyes burn right through you, and he leans close... too close.

The exposed, dark and jagged scars are nearly brushing your cheek as he leans past it, breathing past your ear as he whispers, "Shall we work together to improve cross-nations relations, Councilor Kesare?"

It appears, you and Silco were no longer lone parties, in this grand scheme of politics within this new era of seperate-nations.

"I think I would enjoy that development very much so, Representative Silco."

-

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#[bangs pots and pans] politics as flirting!!! politics! as! flirting! #the only politics I will ever enjoy!! #silco #arcane #arcane silco #silco x reader #my writing #drabble #act 1 silco getting everything after getting vander out of the way is just- #GOD could you imagine? #[also I really love the idea of Silco wearing his snazzy but still only 85% regal Act 1 get up around the flash and glamor of the Council] #[he's NOT looking to impress them; he already knows he looks good and he doesnt have to try as hard] #mel medarda #heimerdinger #arcane fanfic #request #ask #Councilor!reader #cassandra kiramman

[tazzytypes]

A s/o who has really bad tense muscles and stuff. Stiff shoulders, hips, etc (life is tough in Zaun obviously). How does Silco help them out with that. I'm looking for all the tooth decaying fluff you got. This man owns my whole heart.😭

Same here 😭 Silco is the reason Arcane is my current hyper-fixation.

Also, this sore muscle prompt is hitting way too close to home haha. My backpack for school weighs a tonnn and my back hates it — especially in this cold weather.

Headcannons for Silco are still open btw! If you want to send in more or if anyone else has some ideas please hit me up!

Anyways — here y’a’ go! Hope you enjoy!

Young Silco

Working in the Lanes is rough. Most work in the mines, especially during Silco’s youth, which brings its own aches and pains. On top of that, most people worked two or three jobs to make ends meet.

That being said, after a long days work, an intake of aches and pains is usually the first topic of conversation. You’d be with the three boys and Vander and Benzo would start up a lot of aches and pains and scars.

“That shift this morning twisted something in my shoulder,” Vander would say, “doesn’t help that that mining shift messed it up last month. Still gets stiff when it’s cold out.”

“Least you still have your legs,” Benzo says, “doc says he fixed my kneecap but it still hurts like a bitch.”

Silco will roll his eyes as they talk. You two don’t usually join in except to complain about how fucking tired you were. It was something to cheer to, you guessed. An excuse to drink.

However, Silco would note when somethings up. While he may roll his eyes at his friend’s antics, it’s not because he doesn’t care. It’s because they’re so predictable.

Definitely lot of jokes given about you two being stress relief for the other. Benzo definitely calls you “Silco’s pretty masseuse,” as a joke, earning a slap upside the head from both Vander and Silco

Silco’s observant. It’s what made him so valuable to the rebellion. He knows just by the way you’re holding yourself where the aches and pains are.

You keep touching and rolling your shoulder to get some relief? His hand is there to keep some pressure on it. It’s not much, but it keeps the ache away for a bit.

You’re shifting on your feet as you stand because your hips are stiff? You’re in his lap now. Just don’t shift around too much, ok? He’s skinny and you’re like… really hot.

He’ll let you get in the shower first, just so you can have the warmest water. That is, if it’s working. A lot of times you have to heat the water and fill the tub yourself — it’s a whole process. If it’s a particularly bad day for you, he’ll prepare a bath for you as you take a nap or something. Probably something he does at the end of the week when he doesn’t have to worry about being up early the next day.

He’ll sit behind you sometimes as you bathe with a smirk on his face.

“Enjoying yourself?” He’ll ask.

All you can do is hum which makes him chuckle. He’ll ease tension in your shoulder and wash your hair for you. If it leads to more, it leads to more. If not, he likes being able to take care of you.

Another remedy is to warm water on the stove and use a washcloth as a makeshift heat pad. Silco came up with the idea and you thought he was a fucking genius.

He’s no masseuse, but he will help you work out the worst pains. Is afraid to do anything too intensive as he doesn’t know what he’s doing and doesn’t want to make things worse.

If you’re sore because of HIM? Smug af. Cheekily will say, “everything alright? Maybe you should sit down?”

Sometimes all the tenseness stems from anxiety. There’s always something to have your guard up against. He’ll try and cover your six to make you relax. Definitely makes note to smother you in affection later and otherwise make you completely melt.

Act 1 Silco

Act 1 Silco knows the importance of appearance. Being able to provide isn’t just his love language, it’s a sign that he’s the top dog people should bet upon.

That being said, he’s not Act 2 and 3 Silco. Yeah, he has a fancy lair. But it was abandoned. There’s a lot of deals and bartering being done to get things. More coins to scrape together, but still spread thin.

He’ll get you things that help with the aches. Peppermint oil, a semi-decent heated blanket, those sort of things.

He’s less likely to pull you into his lap or rub your shoulders like he would when he was young. At least in public. As said before, Silco knows the importance of appearances. Does his connection to you put a target on your back? Yes. However, it’s also more than that. Him doting on you too publicly makes YOU look weak. He can’t have that. People take advantage of weak people in these parts and the vultures are always swarming.

So, his way of dealing with this is holding you back. Calling your name followed by a serious, “a word,” which makes it seem like he’s about to rip you a new one.

“How long has it been bothering you?” He’ll ask, nodding to whatever part of you is sore that day.

He then offers to get you whatever you need, whether by getting someone to fetch it for you or ordered more if you’re out.

If you’ve tried everything, however, he’ll tell you to take a break and nap or just otherwise take things easy.

When you’ve tried every trick in the book, he’s there with gentle hands. Will give you a few days off to either solve the problem or think of a better solution.

“I’ll have Singed make something.”

“There’s someone who owes me a favor or two. Smuggles in things topside. I’ll see if he knows anything.”

Will check in on you periodically. Small (and I mean very small) breaks will be taken in his part to run your shoulders or otherwise help you ease up a bit.

Is more likely to ask questions to see if your anxieties and stress have anything to do with it. Especially if he knows important missions are around the corner. Understands the complexities of the mind, now. He probably has more tenseness himself. If that’s the root of your problems, expect sweet nothings whispered in your ear.

Speaking of questions, will definitely start spilling a list of remedies.

“Have you tried [x]?” He’ll ask.

“Yes.”

“what about [Y]?”

“That, too”

“How about [z]?”

“No,” you’ll snap, voice filled with sarcasm. He looks you in the eyes and you huff. “Of corse I fucking did!”

Will try and go to bed earlier than he usually does to check in on you (again). Expect to be cuddled.



Act 2 and 3 Silco

Any fancy oil, heating device, or compression gear you need? All you have to do is ask. Only the best of the best.

Has the best masseuse on hand for all your needs.

You don’t even have to ask. He sees you in pain or feeling uncomfortable and he’s already made arrangements.

Less likely to personally attend to you now. In part because he’s the busiest man in Zaun, but also he knows you’re in better hands than his.

However, will feel a bit… jealous isn’t quite the word. He knows it’s a detached approach to taking care of you and, while it’s the best care he could give, he’s still a man of Zaun. Something about doing the work with your own two hands is more rewarding, especially when it comes to helping those you care about.

You’ll get used to the fancy masseuse and mention having an appointment with him and he’ll look up from his desk for a moment.

“While I love to spoil you,” he’ll say, “It would be best if we cut spending in that department. Just for a bit. Let me draw you a bath.”

It’s a lie. Don’t call him on it. Let him do this for you. If you call him out in it he may think you’re angry at him or don’t want to spend time with him. His mind always goes to the worse, even if he trusts you wholeheartedly. Do you just love him for the money? Those types of things. Either way, you get spoiled rotten. Just let him do this.

Will make an evening out of it. May result in spicy times, may not. Either way, it usually results in you two curled up in bed together, his hands tracing patterns on your skin.

[also please schedule this man with your masseuse. He won’t do it if it’s just for him, so beg him for a date night with a massage and dinner. Silco is stressed and not as young as he used to be. God knows there’s always something that’s sore these days]

#Silco x reader #Arcane x reader #headcannons

[arcane-ish]

Arcane’s A+ Parenting Week - Secrets

Ah, Vander, my beloved, he really is the king of secrets, isn't he?

Okay, Vander actually probably doesn't have that many secrets, but I think his story shows how his secrets negatively affect his children.

Vander has a secret deal with Piltover. The deal is that he prevents people (however he does that ...?) from committing crimes in Piltover. However, Vi does not know this. Now he did tell her that "the Northside is off-limits" but it seems that Vi does not understand Vi (and I don't think it's entirely clear that it's off-limits to *everybody*, not just her because they are too young ("we could handle a real job")).

Either way, because of this Vi takes her siblings to a heist topside, causing the inciting incidents and endangering Vander's deal.

When Vi later does find out about the deal from Ekko she is upset, but not so upset that it would seriously endanger Vander's relationship with her, she is still willing to listen to him and his reasons.

Now generally I don't think that it is that unreasonable for a parent to not share everything with a child if they deem them to young. However, I feel if he didn't want to let Vi in on what is really going on and why staying away from topside is that important, then IMO he needed to have a closer eye on them to ensure that they are following his rules if he is not willing to give them a good reason.

To me, this is the other situation where I think he should have told Vi more about what was going on. IMO if he had warned here that there is an enemy from his past targetting him specifically, maybe she would have been more careful coming after him.

I don't think he needed to tell her the whole story (again presuming that he even guessed that it was Silco), but even just telling her about a concrete enemy and maybe even describing them might have helped.

Vander is a man who tries to hide his past. And imo that is a very relatable emotion. Particularly if it seems like he really has things to be ashamed of. I still think in this case, him keeping many things to himself, not giving Vi the necessary information to assess the situation bit him in the ass badly.

Now, if Vander's problem is that he doesn't share enough information with Vi about his past and about how he is running his operation, Silco arguably is the extreme in the opposite direction.

It seems that he is candid to her about his past crimes, he uses her as part of his operation, he lets her listen in on his business meetings and he even discusses his plans, strategy and priorities with her.

We didn't really really get to a point where we see that bit him in the ass specifically, but still, I tend to think that that isn't the healthiest parental behavior either.

(that said, it should be noted that Jinx in Act 2 is older than Vi in Act 1, so that makes it a bit more reasonable that Vander didn't include Vi as much in his operations)

Another character who finds themselves in a similar situation is Heimerdinger.

I feeI like Heimer is usually pretty clear on what he wants his "kids" to do (ie research more/longer before moving to real world application, stop the research, destroy the hexcore). But just like Vander he is pretty bad at explaining to them why they should do the things he wants them to do.

(just with Heimer we don't know if he is hiding something or whether he is just bad at "human")

The last one in our category is Singed. I think we can pretty much assume Singed has a lot of secret he's keeping. However, none of his secrets have really been revealed yet (pretty sure that is coming in season 2), so it's kind of hard to "rate" him in that regard ;)

#arcaneparentingweek #vander #silco #heimerdinger #singed #arcane

[witchypandamonium]

It’s All a Performance (Silco/f!OC)

It’s finally Gala time! My longest chapter yet & it doesn’t even encompass the entire event.

Post-Act 1 Silco/f!OC Chapter 8 of ? 5,056 words, SFW No warnings

AO3 link

Amara almost dressed in plainclothes, intending to change on the way there, but remembering that she wouldn’t have Silco’s private carriage to take advantage of, she instead grabbed her oversized coat to cover up.

The one she’d loaned him—it had picked up the slight scent of his cigar smoke, she noticed, taking a moment to just linger in the after-traces of him.

She did, however, go in a sensible pair of flats, her heels tucked inside a giant pocket inside the coat. Getting them covered in mud and muck right away was a terrible idea when she’d soon be tapping around on some Pitlie’s polished white marble floor. She also mildly worried about the heel getting stuck in one of the many grates scattered about the road.

It was more difficult than usual figuring out what makeup to wear and how to do her hair, as she had no idea what the trends were at the moment in Piltover. But Silco had told her that she was representing Undercity beauty, so she finally decided on simply doing everything she normally did, just a bit more dramatically—concealer to emphasize the characteristically pale Zaunian complexion, a dramatic cat-eye, eyeshadow in pinks and white-golds that crept to her temples and into the blush on her cheeks, and a deep red lip that matched the reds of the dress. She pulled her curly mauve hair into a loose updo, wearing less bangles than usual so as to not draw too much attention from the dress, but she had a feeling if Jinx saw her again she’d still think she was a fairy.

Not wanting to start a giant gossip storm in the neighborhood, she left via the back door. She did as she was told and took the private lift (turns out the envelope had several gold hexes for the guard to bribe her way in), worrying less about pickpockets and thugs when she made it to the Promenade, and finally she let herself feel excited. After all, she was going to a Piltover Gala—something a trencher like her could typically only dream of. Yeah, there’d probably be a lot of infuriating idiots and snobs there, but she only had to do this once—she didn’t have to attend another one if she didn’t want to, as this would probably be enough of a publicity-drawing event to get people who enjoyed her work to come downtown. It wasn’t wrong of her to want to enjoy feeling a bit like a princess for once, right?

Though, admittedly, if Silco asked again, laying on the charm thick like he did last time, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to say no.

After Vander’s death, the conflict and drug activity prompted Piltover to reestablish checkpoints again on all ports and bridges. It wasn’t much—just a handful of Enforcers checking bags and IDs—but it still grated on her, a faint, inescapable buzz like someone pressing on her eardrums. Having to prove her worthiness to enter the City of Progress left a bad taste in her mouth, and she’d heard many a tale of arguments ending in a single punch or baton hit from “Piltover’s finest”. Between the conflict that led to her mother’s death and the multiple times the orphans had come to her with bruises and broken ribs, she couldn’t bear to be near Enforcers too long without feeling sick and out of breath.

The sight of Silco waiting for her, talking to the only Enforcer without an ominous facemask, helped chase away the noise, however, her heart thrumming with excitement rather than anxiety. His suit wasn’t too dissimilar to the one he normally wore, but there was gold trim on nearly everything, from the vest to the cuffs of his sleeves. It was all silk and sharp angles, looking a bit more Piltovian than Zaunian, but that was probably a conscious decision, to make the elites who would be attending more easily identify with him by dressing like them. He wore a dramatic coat over it all, pitch black with a high collar that hugged his neck, drawing attention to the elegant gold cravat pin worn at his throat. The cravat was the only touch of white in the entire ensemble, the one decisive deviation from Piltovian fashion themes. There was only one word that swam in her brain as she admired him—beautiful.

She was about a carriage’s-length away when he finally noticed her, a subtle smile pulling up the corners of his lips. “Speak of the devil…” As he turned to fully face her, she couldn’t help but notice a change in his scar—or rather the near absence of it visibly. He’d put on concealer, reducing the damaged tissue to a slight change in texture. After he took her hand in his red kid-gloved one and placed his customary kiss on it, she slid it to delicately brush her thumb just under his dark eye. For the briefest moment he stiffened, then his head tilted ever so subtly into her hand, seafoam green eye fluttering. “This is new.”

“Hopefully it will ease the delicate nerves of the ignorant,” he muttered with a wry, conspiratorial smirk. “I’m in no mood to be stared at.”

“Not even by me?” she chuckled, crossing her arms in mock indignance.

“You, as always, are the exception to the rule.” He swept his arm across the bridge, toward the glittering golden towers of Piltover, a gesture to join him in strolling right through the checkpoint. The Enforcers, in fact, took special efforts to pretend they couldn’t see them, looking away conspicuously.

She wouldn’t bring up that it was probably because she, being from the Undercity, was more than used to seeing scars and other maladies brought about by the pollution they were exposed to on a daily basis. The undisguised want in her gaze probably helped.

His hand drifted to the small of her back, resting there for a moment as they resumed the crossing over the river Pilt before his elbow was offered for her to take.

“You know,” she hummed, subtly checking to make sure her coat was done up tight—partly because the wind over the river was especially strong and the late-fall chill was biting, but also because she was going to keep him in suspense regarding her dress until the last possible moment, “you never told me what this Gala was for?”

“Ah, how rude of me,” chuckling, he took the hint and kept his eyes forward. “This particular event is celebrating the groundbreaking of Hextech’s first massive project: the Hexgate, a massive structure that, upon completion, will be capable of teleporting vessels all across Runeterra.”

Without her hand hooked on his elbow, she probably would have halted completely with how her mind stalled at the very notion of teleportation. “I’d heard they’d figured out how to channel magic scientifically, but…” her words caught in her throat. “…They can really do that?”

“The enthusiastic support of the council and generous funding suggests yes,”Silco nods, “and that may bode ill for us.”

“How so?”

“If I can’t get us access, Piltover will leave us in the dust, both metaphorically and quite literally.”

Record publicity instantly forgotten, her other arm flew to his crooked forearm. “Do you need help? Information gathering or something like that?”

A surprised blink melted into a fond chuckle, patting her hand gently. “This night is also for you. I wasn’t lying when I said this is a very important step to take. You gathering attention will help give the Undercity visibility. Leave the rest to me.”

“You’re sure? People say a lot—more than they would usually reveal—to a pretty face when the drinks start flowing.”

“Absolutely. Enjoy your accolades, but don’t venture too far from me. You are my plus-one, after all.” He easily flagged down a taxi carriage as they reached the city. Between his elegant new clothes and the natural authority he wore like a second skin, she certainly wasn’t surprised a driver responded so quickly.

“Afraid you’ll lose your Siren to the charms of the Golden City?”

She meant to tease, but he wasn’t laughing, clenching his jaw and grip tightening on the door as he held it open for her. Taking a seat, she looked up at him through her lashes, apologetic. “Remember what I said when we first met? About why I don’t perform Topside?”

Slowly the corners of his lips tilted up again, his grip relaxing. “Because fuck them.”

Giggling, she scooched to her left and patted the seat beside her, leaning ever so subtly against his shoulder as he slid into the carriage beside her.

The ride to the venue was spent in comfortable silence, as Amara was far too excited for her mind to hold even the smallest conversations. She’d never been to the very epicenter of Piltover, home to the very richest and most important people in the city—perhaps even the continent (but then again, until Silco took her to Ademar, she’d never been in Piltover at all). Marketplaces were selling goods that cost more than the average Undercity house, packs of Academy students strolled home after lectures, and closer to the epicenter, across bridges spanning sparkling clean rivers, nobles clad in their finest gathered for the Gala. Their carriage joined a line of vehicles that released their charges right at the grand staircase of the white marble hall—there was even a valet waiting just to open the carriage door.

“Welcome, Mr. Silco,” the young man said with a small bow. “Coat-check is in the lobby to the right. We hope you and your lady enjoy the Gala.”

Silco simply hummed, handing the boy a single gold cog before helping Amara out of the carriage and again offering his elbow. That’s when she remembered that she was still wearing her worn flats.

“Oh! Just a second!” Reaching into her coat, she toed off her humble Zaunian shoes and used Silco for stability as she slipped on the heels. “There’s another reason not to venture far—I’m not used to walking in these.” Silco simply chuckled.

Fortunately it wasn’t as hard as she’d worried it would be, and she was able to stand confidently on her own as she shed her coat and gave it to the coat-check. Silco’s attention was on yet another staff member he had to tip, stuffing the ticket into his pocket with the mildest hint of annoyance. But that expression changed the moment he caught sight of her out of the corner of his good eye.

His turn to face her was stiff, as though movement was a taxing effort. His lips parted, just enough for Amara to make out the chip in his front teeth, hands clenching into fists at his sides as his eyes, pupils wide, drank in every curve in slow detail. She’d never been so comfortable under such a heated gaze, makeup hiding much of her blush as she fought not to worry her bottom lip and ruin her lipstick. The mismatched gaze followed, transfixed, as she shifted her weight onto one leg, glued to the sway of her hips, until she lifted a hand for him to take. A deep inhale seemed to snap him out of his stupor, Adam’s apple bobbing with a thick swallow as he unexpectedly bent at the waist, a full bow as he took and kissed her hand.

“Exquisite, my songbird,” he murmured against her skin, slowly straightening and tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. “I could not have imagined better. Shall we dazzle them, then? Show them the face of Zaun?”

“Lead on, Industrialist,” she snickered wryly, glad to have a physical anchor to keep the anxiety and excitement thrumming within her low as she cast a glance to the ballroom beyond the lobby.

To say the chamber was massive almost felt like an understatement. The domed ceiling, white marble glittering with geometric golden filigree and large crystal chandeliers, towered four, maybe five stories above them. Ornate windows stretched from the parquet floor all the way to the dome, each one granting a breathtaking view of the City of Progress as the sky bruised in the late autumn evening. Royal blue velvet drapes hung around every window, the idea of the expense of so much rich fabric causing her head to spin. Dozens of nobles danced in the center of the great hall, the fringes even more occupied as aristocrats mingled, flutes of champagne and hors d’oeuvres being ferried on trays by an army of waiters and waitresses. And above it all, banners displaying Hextech designs, runes, crystals, and Jayce, the founder, hung from floating lanterns that glowed with an electric blue light.

The only hint that Silco was at all fazed by it all was a slight drop of his shoulders and a slight widening of his teal eye. And after that slightest touch of wonder, his jaw clenched and eyes burned, as though the finery on display offended him.

Amara couldn’t blame him—she understood exactly the rage of seeing the opulence on display while children in the Sumps starved. But these oligarchs were exactly the people who had the money to do something about it, and if she could use her new visibility to direct a few cogs towards Zaun’s aid, she’d do it without even a moment’s hesitation. So she ran a soothing hand along his forearm until the tightness in his face relaxed.

“Ah, Silco, so glad you could make it!”

Silco guided them to pivot right, toward a rather rotund man looking their way with a smug smile. A stovepipe top hat, rich purple suitcoat, black trousers pinstriped in gold, all very much the height of Piltover style; some very obvious Chemtech augmentations, however, made it plainly obvious that he was another Chem-Baron.

“Eramis,” lips curling into a thin, disingenuous smile, Silco led the two of them to the large man, who exchanged his empty champagne flute for another. “Just the man I’d expect to see on such occasions.”

“My good man, the day I am not in attendance—let alone curating; these fine paintings don’t just appear on the walls—at one of these fine events is the day I am buried in the ground,” the man chuckled. “And who is this lovely flower you’ve brought with you?”

“Eramis,” Silco smirked, his tone chiding, “I’m surprised a man of culture such as yourself doesn’t recognize the Siren.”

“Ye gods! My lady, I apologize!” he bowed as low as his ample gut would allow, taking her hand before she could object and—fortunately—leaving but a peck on the back. “And here I’ve been distributing your album to connoisseurs both above and below! We are so very fortunate to have you here, my dear! I hope you don’t mind if I spread the news!”

It took her a moment for her to find her voice, flattered and a touch wary. “N-not at all.”

“Excellent! Finally some culture to discuss! It’s looking to be a splendid night! But don’t let me keep you—please enjoy the festivities.” He took a step before adding, almost an afterthought, “and you as well, Silco.” And with a tip of his comically tall hat, he was off, disappearing into the crowds of nobles hobnobbing.

“He’s a dealer in art, music, and other fineries,” Silco explained. “A useful ally who seems to be eager to prove himself. Relatively harmless, especially if he takes an interest in you.”

“Like you?” Amara teased with a coy tilt of her head.

His eye narrowed wickedly, peering down at her with a dark heat in it. “Oh, little songbird,” he purred, “I am the most dangerous of them all.” She almost felt like she imagined it, but she swore she saw a flash of regret as his gaze returned to the ballroom, scouting out other important figures whose aid he required.

Even early as it was, the Gala was already a buzz of activity; the chaotic mix of hundreds of conversations each vying to be heard over the orchestra’s playing made it hard to focus on anything more than five feet away from her. Silco suavely offered her a flute of champagne as he reached for his own—she hadn’t even noticed the waiter approach. She’d also never tasted something so sweet, tart, and intoxicating, having to fight to sip rather than down the entire glass like she was back at Deep Eddy’s. The smell of at least five different dishes, all arranged in one-bite portions, wafted past her, whipping her attention back and forth across the room, each one more tempting than the last.

A few young, enterprising nobles were eager to greet Silco, their business questions flying quite over her head. Once or twice she flitted from his arm to gather a few bites for the both of them, the Chem-Baron pausing each time to thank her before resuming his topic. Once or twice his hand stroked slow, shiver-inducing circles on her lower back, the sheer organza proving almost no barrier to the butter-smooth leather of his gloves.

After a little while, people started to come to greet her, all enthusiastic to be able to speak to the latest rising star, to ask about how she got her start, what inspired her, how she developed her “sound”… In this Silco helped as well, playing the part of a proud patron wonderfully, letting her lead most conversations, stepping in only to guide the topic back from any uncomfortable tangents a guest may have taken or filling in where her knowledge faltered. With him beside her, she found herself suddenly more than capable of handling this new level of fame. She wasn’t a trencher in an expensive disguise, she was a songstress worthy of the spotlight. A Siren.

It seemed that no amount of admiration could hide the ignorance or arrogance of some, however, as one noble couple quickly demonstrated.

“It must be difficult to create such wonderful music in such a dreary, dismal place!” the wife cooed, hand to her breast.

“I presume you’ll want to relocate somewhere more fitting for artists such as yourself?” her husband carried on, looking down his thin nose at her with thinly-veiled pity. “With the patronage of Clan Taroist you could expedite the process. We’d be happy to find you a residence in the upper city, on Sidreal Avenue, perhaps?”

Taking a deep breath through her nose to cool her anger at the utter gall, she could feel Silco subtly tighten the bend of his elbow to squeeze her hand. “While I appreciate the generous offer, I don’t have plans—at present—to seek any additional patrons. And moreover, the Undercity is my home; I’ve yet to have any trouble with inspiration.”

“The impetus of expression is struggle,” Silco interceded, his voice low, a subtle scathing bite to it. “It took us hours to select enough Topside anthems that matched the potency of one Undercity ballad to fill the album. While struggle is universal, it seems hard to come by here.”

Amara had to hide her face with her near-empty flute to conceal the wide-eyed, smug grin at the shock on the aristocrats’ faces. They were quick to excuse themselves, thoroughly dressed down, allowing the pair of fissure folk to find a nearby alcove to retreat to for a private, quiet laugh.

“Gods,” she giggled as softly as she could, leaning her back against the wall of the alcove to conceal herself in shadow, “they really have no clue!”

The Chem-Baron’s shoulders shook as he laughed silently beside her.

“Their priorities are so backwards! ‘I’m Whosit of Clan Whatsit’, ‘Blah of House Whatever, ‘Lalala of Clan Meh’. They’re all so obsessed with their families! I’m so tempted to tell them how much I do not care about who their family is! But that? That was amazing! I could kiss you right now, but that might the champagne speaking.”

Slowly, deliberately, he turned, forearm resting on the wall above her as he caged her between it and his body. In the dark, his left eye practically burned, piercing her with the intensity of his gaze. She was so deafened by the sudden pounding of her heart that she didn’t notice him reach for her empty glass until he was pulling it from her fingers. “Perhaps that’s enough for now, then?”

Perhaps it was. “Can tell I’m a lightweight, hm?” she tried to deflect, eyes fixed pointedly on a shining gold buckle on his vest.

“Remarkable considering you performed for years solely at bars.”

“Alcohol is drying on your vocal chords—it was crucial to especially moderate. It and the periodic Gray flare-ups are my biggest daily concerns.”

Their conversation paused as a boisterous laugh drew their attention to a very familiar face. It was hard not to recognize him—his face was plastered nearly everywhere, from grand banners to coffee cups. The founder of Hextech, the Man of Progress himself: Jayce Talis.

He was dressed almost completely in white, gold trim sparkling in the twinkling chandelier light. His tailcoat bore ornate crimson pauldrons that proudly displayed his House’s crest. A cravat of the same red silk was tucked into his white vest, which laid immaculately, without a single wrinkle, over a black dress shirt and black slacks. He was not too far from their alcove, laughing with a small group of nobles (thankfully not including the pair they’d humiliated).

Silco lifted a brow, tilting his head toward the commotion. “Shall we?”

She slotted her arm back into his elbow with a nod, finding the perfect moment to approach as a waiter came to collect empty glasses.

“If it isn’t the man of the hour,” Silco said in a tone that bordered on too friendly—at least, for him—and offered his spare hand. “Mister Talis, a pleasure. My name is Silco.”

Jayce shook his hand without a moment’s hesitation, a picture of naïve cordiality. “Silco, I think I’ve heard of you,” he beamed. “You run a number of businesses in the Undercity, am I right?”

“Indeed. My most recent, one I am particularly proud of, being providing patronage to this lovely and talented lady,” he gestured to her. While his left eye could no longer blink, she could still swear he winked at her.

Amara hadn’t thought his smile could get any bigger, but the inventor shone like the sun, eyes lighting up like an excited puppy, when he looked to her. “You’re the Siren!” he gasped, flying to shake her hand, the other warmly clapping her on the shoulder. “I can’t believe it! My partner and I were just listening to your album!”

“I-I’m flattered!” she stammered, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks again. “I’d never imagined the creator of Hextech would be a fan of mine.”

“You have to talk to him—Victor!” Jayce continued. “He’s from the Undercity, too! He’s hiding away from the crowds just over there.”

In the corner not too far away that Jayce indicated, a tall figure in a similar white tailcoat did his best to look inconspicuous. She looked sweetly up at Silco, “May I?”

“Go ahead. We’ve dull business to discuss.”

Giving his arm a pat, she whispered a quick promise of returning and slipped away.

What she found as she drew near, she was not expecting. It was a bit like looking into a mirror—a strange, warped mirror. The man had that same Undercity look: the gaunt, lanky frame of someone who survived malnourishment by the skin of their teeth, gold eyes that saw too much but still held hope, subtle wave to his hair, more brown than her cool brown-mauve… A waiter passing between them snapped her out of her puzzled stupor, and she managed to grab two new glasses before he was too far out of reach, one a gift she offered with a smile.

“Your partner insisted I speak to you,” she said with a chuckle. “I understand we have a common origin.”

The man—Viktor—apparently saw the same resemblance, as he did a small double-take before he even realized the flute of champagne was being held out for him. “Oh, eh, that is kind of him,” he mumbled, sheepishly accepting the glass in the hand that was not leaning on an ornate cane. His accent was charming—one of the more common ones in the underground; one that she’d been told was a souvenir from the country her father came from years ago, though his had been subtle due to leaving as a child. “Pardon my manners, I just, ah… You seem, eh, familiar. Might I ask your name?”

“Amara,” she replied, shaking her head and lifting a hand in a placating gesture. “But you might be more familiar with ‘the Siren’.”

Understanding lit up his face, “Ah! You are the singer from the Undercity!” He shifted his weight onto one leg so he could release his cane, leaning it against the wall, to shake her hand. Seemed his right was injured or unsound in some way—yet more proof he truly was from Zaun. “So am I! But I am being rude, forgive me. My name is Viktor.”

“Please, like manners are needed between two trenchers,” she chuckled. “Is it true that you’re the co-founder of Hextech?”

“Yes, though Jayce really deserves more credit than I,” Viktor smiled bashfully, scratching the back of his neck before retrieving his cane. “He had the vision, I simply believed in him—and completed a few formulae to achieve it.”

“It’s just so amazing to see one of us rise so high,” Amara beamed. “I didn’t believe it at first, but there’s no mistaking the Zaun look—though I have to admit, this is a little uncanny.”

“Ah, so I was not the only one who noticed it,” he sighed. “It is rather striking. A strange coincidence, perhaps deserving of future research. But now is neither the time nor the place. I believe congratulations are in order: your album seems to have made quite an impact. I’ve not yet had the time to listen to it myself, but Jayce did buy a hexplayer for the lab for the sole purpose of playing the single for me.”

“That is quite possibly the most flattering thing anyone has told me tonight,” she laughed, hand rising to her lips as she felt the blush rising on her cheeks. “It was already amazing enough that one of the founders knew of me. His enthusiasm is infectious—is he always like that?”

“When he finds something he is passionate about, yes,” he leaned forward conspiratorially, as though sharing a sensitive company secret.

“It really seems like he’s passionate about helping the entire city, not just Topside.”

“He is,” Viktor nodded, meeting her eyes with a fiery determination sparkling in his gold depths, “as am I. The Hexgate is just the beginning—with Hextech, we can prevent unnecessary deaths in the Undercity with the same magic that will send the clans’ airships far across Runeterra. All it takes is the right application.”

She almost felt like crying—it sounded impossible, but she’d heard about the practical demonstrations, and it truly seemed that they could do anything with their technology. “I can’t tell you just how much that means to me.”

“I think I have an idea,” Viktor replied with a sympathetic nod. “The fact that both of us are here, despite where we come from, is proof change can happen.”

“This is going to mean the world to Silco.” At the quizzical lift of a brow from the scientist, she elaborated: “My patron. He’s an entrepreneur in the Undercity. He’s been trying to improve conditions in the lower levels for almost a year now.”

“Hmm, we may need to speak with him sometime in the future.”

“He’s talking to Mr. Talis right now, but I’m sure he’d love to speak to you as well—perhaps even more.”

“I will have to take my leave soon,” Viktor said apologetically, wincing as he shifted his weight onto the other leg. “I hope you understand—standing for so long, eh, it’s…”

“Of course, I completely understand,” she nodded.

“But I can see that Miss Young, our assistant, gets you a conduit tube to our lab.”

“I would really appreciate that.”

“If nothing else, so we can see if you two are related!”

Jayce’s expression was one of fascination and excitement as he joined them, and was, again, infectious. He clapped Viktor on the back with enough strength to have the thinner man stumbling slightly, “Seriously, it’s uncanny! Are you sure you don’t have any distant relatives?”

“I told you, I don’t know,” Viktor grumbled, though it seemed by now he was used to the younger man’s teasing by the subtle upturn at the corner of his lips. “Most in the Undercity are lucky if they even know their parents. But yes, we noticed.”

“Silco,” Amara held her arm outstretched, coaxing him to lend her his arm again, “this is Viktor. He’s the co-founder of Hextech, and would you believe it: he’s one of us!”

Silco’s teal eye narrowed slightly, examining the scientist with subtle curiosity. “Indeed? I presume you were one of the brilliant child minds scooped up by the Academy?”

Viktor nodded, “In the simplest terms, yes.”

“Pardon me?”

Amara turned, finding that in her excitement to introduce Silco to Viktor, Jayce had drifted to a waiter bearing a tray of some sort of shellfish dish, talking with a beautiful woman with coiled hair meticulously pulled into an updo, white and gold gown complementing her dark skin. In his departure, one of the nobles who had been following him had broken away and was clearing his throat persistently to get her attention.

“I can’t help but find it shameful that a lovely thing like you has yet to dance. May I show your escort how it’s done, my dear Siren?”

I’d really rather not… Ugh, but that would be rude. She should be laying on the charm tonight, but there was really only one person she wanted to flirt with.

She did her best to smile. “I suppose it would be rude not to accept the help of such a generous fan.”

#arcane #league of legends #silco #silco/oc #f!oc #eventual smut #sfw #it's all a performance #jayce #viktor

[space-blue]

The batshit Ren & Marcus headcanon you never asked for!

So I recently shared a Ren & Jinx fic here that has been doing stupidly well, considering... And I'm now feeling enabled to share this headcanon regarding Ren's mother.

You know who else is ginger, in Arcane? Two other people :

And isn't is a nice coincidence that Renni is called, well, Renni?

So here's what I suggest :

Renni had a daughter when she was young. Let's call her Roisin, to keep the R theme.

Renni was climbing the ranks fast and ready to make it as a chembaronness. Afraid for her daughter's safety, she sends her to live/study in Piltover.

There, Roisin falls prey to a very different danger... A very cute and charming man she falls in love with, and nobody with eyes can blame her... Marcus clearly was a snack in his youth. Imagine him in civvies, buying you a drink :

Unfortunately, Marcus is an enforcer (derogatory), and Renni is NOT having it. They get in a massive fight and Roisin breaks it off with her, choosing her enforcer boyfriend over her mother and her gang.

Then she's pregnant and gives birth to a cute baby girl (in this strange world where genetics are whack and an asian man somehow won't atomize your ginger genes).

Ren changes everything.

Roisin is just, say, 22, Marcus is 26, Ren wasn't planned... Despite their split, Roisin loves her mother and names her daughter after her. How could Renni resist this? A cute as fuck grandkid?? She can probably forgive Marcus for existing...

Now I'm going to drive off the deep end, so buckle up :

Roisin takes infant Ren down into Piltover for a weekend with her mother but is either recognised and attacked, or victim of a random attack, IDK. Also can't decide if it's on the way to Renni's, or coming back to Piltover, and if Renni has seen Ren before or not.

Anyway, Roisin dies, but her attackers flee without hurting the child, who is eventually returned to Marcus when Enforcers are called.

Bravo, we now have an idealistic young enforcer widowed by Zaunite violence. A year later, the events of Act I kick off, and Marcus isn't just a zealous dipshit, he's got a massive chip on his shoulder.

Evidently, Marcus cuts all ties with Renni. He's not about to risk his daughter's life in the Undercity. Not ever. She gets to grow up nice and sheltered in Piltover, despite her Zaun-blue eyes and distinctive ginger hair. She doesn't know about her extended family down in Zaun.

Mommy is in heaven... With a crown of stars...

Now, yes, that makes Renni's son be Ren's (late) uncle. If you'll indulge me, I'll make him into a very scrawny 12-13yo (Zaun isn't a good place to grow up in), meaning he was around 5-6 when Ren was born. Regarding Ren's age, refer to this post.

Not entirely uncommon for siblings to have 16 years of age difference, which would be the time between Roisin and dead-baby-uncle. RIP

Renni learnt her lesson too : don't send your kids to Piltover. It won't keep them safe. For her son she places her bet with Silco, and he goes to work in the shimmer factories and learn leadership there from the ground up.

But your kids aren't ever safe anywhere... [Thanks Jayce]

Now, I have to admit, I also enjoy what this implies for Grayson and Marcus. Because in episode 2, we're shown Marcus stepping way out of bounds, and get frustrated with Grayson. He's clearly her second, or else he wouldn't be with her in Council meetings, and it doesn't make sense that she'd pick someone who is impossible to work with, or a zealot who goes against the way she manages Zaun with Vander.

Marcus could have started as a great cop (whoa, no stone throwing, great in Grayson's pov ok) you know, good at his job, motivated... Gets to the top young. Then the above happens, and his rage and prejudice just leaks into the job. Now they're far more in opposition than usual. Grayson doesn't give him too much beef, like in episode 1 at Benzo's. She knows he's going through shit, she's cutting him slack. Until he goes and fucks shit up at the Last Drop.

Also. Wow. They really went and made the sniveling hateful cop into a hottie. They didn't have to but they did. Thanks Fortiche.

Anyway, that's how Marcus is actually Renni's son in law, thanks for coming to my TED talk. I might have to write Ren meeting Renni through Jinx, given how popular these two are right now...

#Ren #Renni #Marcus #Grayson #Arcane #arcane ren #arcane grayson #arcane marcus #arcane meta #arcane league of legends #arcane netflix #jinx