Arcane Season 1 Finale Spoilers

My sister knew, she knew Silco was my favorite character, and she just let me watch him die! God dang it his and Jinx’s father daughter relationship was probably one of the best in the show because of how much he genuinely seemed to care about her.

Silco said it himself. He could have had everything he worked for and wanted all he had to do was give up on a girl who everyone keeps telling him is a problem. But she was never a problem to him. He raised this Jinx and promised to never abandon or hate her the way other people in her life seemed to whenever she messed up. He saw himself in her and gave them both a second chance at a loyal family.

Fuck it he had his issues but I really think he was a good father for the most part (not even really a bad person if you think about it he was really just trying to free the Undercity from the corrupt upperworld and only did evil experiements to level the playing field against the council that were more technologically advanced and rich). He gave Jinx her own space, encouraged her to tinker with her explosive devices even if they blew up in his face, defended her against those who thought she was incompetent, taught her how to properly defend herself. Did he gaslight her a bunch and gatekeep her? Yes. But he’s just a girlboss that needed therapy, and I think, if the Undercity had a good therapist to help both of them unpack their trauma, they really wouldn’t be so toxic.

Anyway, hot take but I think Jinx should have let Vi die and go with Silco. The problem with Vi is that she is trying to hard to get Powder back that she can’t see Jinx right in front of her which is an issue because if she ignores Jinx she ignores the trauma her sister went through for so many years. She can’t ignore a problem to fix a problem. Silco, on the other hand, loved Jinx as she was and who she grew up to be. He just made the mistake of not taking her to counseling sooner but I still blame most of that on the Undercity’s lack of therapist. Gonna kick all those rich nobles butts. They’re probably hoarding all the good healthcare tbh.

Now, there’s no one left who loves Jinx, only those that love Powder, and it makes me so upset.

I’m in a mood.

Anyone wanna place a few bets on Chapter Twelve of Is this Betrayal?

Will they?

Or won’t they?

Will I even write tonight? Who knows!

Is this Betrayal? Chapter Eleven | Silco x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist: Prologue|Chapter One |Chapter Two|Chapter Three|Chapter Four|Chapter Five|ChapterSix | Chapter Seven|Chapter 8|Chapter 9|Chapter Ten

You can’t sleep. For what it’s worth, you try, but you just… can’t.

You lay atop the unmade bed, sheets pulled up to your chest. You’re curled in on yourself, knees pressed up to your chest, arms wrapped around them. It’s tight. It’s dark. Soft candlelight streams in through the crack beneath the door. You watch it as it wavers and brightens then fades again, back and forth as the flame grows and ebbs as time goes on. There’s no sound from the other room. No sound of anything really.

Then you hear it. The creaking roll of wheels against hardwood floors, followed by the softest of footsteps that grow closer. You sit up as a shadow crosses on the other side of the door, light flickering in the cracks. The handle clicks.

The door swings open as you draw your legs up, tossing the sheets back. Your toes hit the ground as you watch the thin shadow standing at the threshold. Light streams in behind him, highlighting the floor as it stretches to the foot of the bed. You brace your hands on the edge of the bed and wait. You wait for him to speak. To break the silence. To tell you what he wants.

Has he had enough?

“Is this what we are now?” he asks, voice soft. Your fingers dig in to the sheets beneath you as your stomach clenches.

Your shoulders tense up. You think for a moment before answering. “I don’t know what we are, Sil.”

He crosses one leg over the other as he watches you. “Two people so alone, begging for someone to hear them, but too caught up in themselves to see that the person they need is right in front of them. That’swhat we are.”

You take a breath. “I thought you didn’t need this,” you murmur gesturing loosely to yourself before dropping your hand in defeat.

He’s silent for a moment. “I don’t need you to throw my words back at me. I know what I said.”

“But do you know how it felt to hear it?” your eyes cut up from the floor and glance at him. Sharp teeth bite into your bottom lip as you try to dam up the words. But then they break through. “I waited hours for you to walk through that door, to take it all back, to tell me you didn’t mean it and—”

“I can’t tell you I didn’t mean every word,” he breaks in, “I was angry – I still am, I think, but it’s misplaced. I know that now. You didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of it all.”

Your eyes widen, blinking as you try to catch sight of his face, but it’s shrouded in shadows with his back to the light. “What are you saying?”

He tilts his head. “That I hate this.” A soft tskleaves him as he sighs. “”That I want something I don’t deserve…” he trails off, takes a breath and falls silent for a moment. You count the heartbeats pounding in your ears before he speaks again. “I left you. And that first time may not have been by choice but don’t you wonder what our lives might have been if I had stayed?”

“That’s not fair,” you whisper, a breathless huff leaving you as you choke back stinging tears. “I wonder that every day.” You wipe your cheeks quickly and clear your throat. You fold your hands and look down at them where they lay in your lap, skin wet, muscles shaking.

“Do you remember when the markets were strong? When we thought things might finally be looking up for the underground? Things were good. We had money, we could have done anything.”

You take a breath, lips pressed tightly together before nodding your head. “None of it was ever enough though. You said, ‘What’s the point in us having a fortune if the rest of the world around us is still buried and on fire?’”

Silco looks at you for a moment, arms still crossed. And then the right corner of his mouth pulls up into a melancholy smile. He drops his arms and steps into the room, throwing a hand at the switch next to the door. Harsh yellow light fills the room. You wince and listen to his soft footsteps as he heads for the chair in the corner. Silently, he picks it up and turns back to you, bringing it next to the bed. Wood on wood clacks together as he sets the chair down and sits, knees only a few inches away from yours. His hands clasp together and he bows his head for a moment. Then he looks up.

“I used to think about scraping together what we had and leaving Zaun.”

You’re still for a moment. Then a harsh huff of a laugh leaves you and you shift on the bed, turning away from him to stare at the wall as his words sink in. Shaking your head, you look back at him. “And yet here we are, clearly you chose otherwise,” you shrug your shoulders in defeat. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this; it doesn’t change anything.” The bed creaks as you stand up and step around him. He turns as you pass by.

He calls after you. “Because I looked at that smug look on Daiden’s face when he told me about your child and all I could think about was how it should have been mine.” You stop. You turn. He peers up at you before standing. You’re breathless as he steps closer and closer until his face is right next to yours. “The mistake I made – it was never you,” he says. “I envied him. I thought myself above petty emotions when the truth was my jealousy was buried just beneath the surface, waiting for a reason to escape.”

Your bottom lip trembles. “You were hateful.”

“I was,” he says with a gentle nod of acceptance.

“And you’re a liar.”

He breathes in, and presses his shoulders back. “I never said I wasn’t one.”

You wet your lips. “But you want me to trust you.” He says nothing and you breathe in, closing your eyes as you shake your head. “When we found each other again, you asked what I wanted from you.” You turn to the side, scanning the walls as you search for your words. “I wanted you. But what do you want from me?”

The room is silent. You pivot back to find him watching you. His healthy eye is glossy and bright and for a moment your memory takes hold and you’re back in the past again. Then he speaks.

“I want your forgiveness.”

“That’s all?” you breathe, shaking your head, hands settling on your hips. “It’s hard to give it when no one’s asked for it.”

Silco swallows. “I am asking. I know that I hurt you – and I know I promised I wouldn’t let anyone do that—”

“You made me feel safe,” you say and he stops mid-sentence, eyes widening. You shy away, arms hugging your stomach as you step back. “I’m not talking about physical safety. The people you surround yourself with, the secret deals you’re making, the way that man at the mine followed your orders – I’m not blind, I know the undercity has never been safe. But I trusted you – because you let me. Then you turned cruel. And I am sorry I didn’t tell you about the baby, I wanted to, I was going to.” Your face is wet with tears as your shoulders begin to shake. “I wanted time…” You wave a hand between the two of you. “I didn’t what this – us – to change. And Daiden–”

“You let me worry about Daiden,” Silco says then and you falter. He steps closer, hand rising up to ghost over the side of your bare arm. He looks down as the back of his knuckles softly graze your skin. “I told you I wouldn’t let him hurt you again and that’s one promise I will keep.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “If he knows about the baby, he won’t stop looking for me.”

Silco nods, gaze falling for a moment as his hand stills, the heat of his palm slowly permeating the skin and muscles. “The advantage is he has me looking for you.” A smirk grows on Silco’s lips as his eye rise up to stare into your own. “And I’m not going to find you.”

A tsk leaves you as you click your tongue and look away, glancing to the far wall, eyes boring into the knots in the paneling. “What about when I leave in the morning?”

“Don’t leave.” You turn back as the hand that was pressed against you curls around your bicep. He looks at you and you see his pupils widen, and his shoulders rise and fall with quick breaths. Panic. That’s what you see. But is that panic real, or is it another lie?

“Stay,” he says when you say nothing. “If you can’t forgive me tonight, give me the chance to fix this—us. I’ll do anything.”

“Forgiveness is one thing,” you shake your head, “but trusting you is another. You’ve left me so many times, Silco. And staying – fixing us – is one thing, but what about my baby?” You take his hand in yours and bring it to rest against the front of your dress, the loose fabric giving way until his palm is pressed again the smallest swell. He holds his breath and blinks and you force yourself to speak quickly, in forced breaths. “Where do they fit in? Because as much as they’re Daiden’s they’re also mine,” you shake your head as his gaze flits from your face to your stomach. “And I won’t give them up, not even for you.”

Silco shakes his head. “I wouldn’t ask that—”

“—I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” you tell him, squeezing his hand before releasing it. He stands still as his fingers leave you. “But if you want me to stay then you have to know what my priorities are.” It’s your turn to step forward, hands rising up. Your fingertips graze his jaw before sliding across his cheeks. You hold his face in your hands. “I love you,” you whisper, holding fast as a jolt seems to run through is body as your words hit his ears. “I always have, but I’m tired of being scared of losing you. So if you feel even an ounce of anything for me, and you can’t give me what I need, then let me go.”

The room falls silent around you as you stare up at him, breathing in and out as you wait for him to say something. Anything. Finally, he moves his hands, setting them over yours. But he doesn’t push you away.

He holds them tight and says, “No.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READCHAPTER 12 HERE

A/N: I got to the point where this needed to break up into two parts. How do you think this is gonna end up?

Also, you might be happy to know that we are having the same problem with this fic as I did the Crosshair Family fic: ie. I don’t know how to plan stories so when I start them I say, “Oh this fic will be short. No more than 6 chapters!”

And then it’s not.

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Okay y’all, so after a big fight with his S/O who do you think would be the first to apologize and want to make up?

How do you think Silco would do it?

I need feedback to see if this chapter is a good representation of Silco.

Is this Betrayal? Chapter 10 | Silco x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist: Prologue|Chapter One |Chapter Two|Chapter Three|Chapter Four|Chapter Five|ChapterSix | Chapter Seven|Chapter 8|Chapter 9

The mine shaft is misleading. It’s dark as your feet lead you down the path, a clink, clink, clack echoing in your ears as you venture further. But as you tiptoe, one hand trails along the wet stone walls. Your eyes acclimate like they used to. Where darkness once loomed before you, you can now see the floor, footprints and wagon tracks freshly carved into the sand.

And then it turns.

It’s a sharp corner, sudden and brusque. Light blooms as you come around it, a blue lantern swinging in the distance. You glance behind you, around the corner and peer up at the small beam of light coming from the shaft’s entrance. You don’t know why you don’t turn around then. Walk back the way you came, retrace your steps and find a way to the surface. But you don’t turn. You keep going and that clink, clink, clack growing louder as the lantern grows closer and brighter with each step.

Each step echoes softly. Each step reverberates through your bones. Each step seems to send you back in time. One step forward and you’re a young girl again, eight years old, hunger stabbing through your stomach. Another step forward and you’re scampering through tight cuts in the rock where the big rock breakers could never hope to reach, prying at black glass and precious metals. You hide them in your pockets and shoes, places no one will see them because you never know when one of the older children might try to steal your haul. One last step and you’re standing beneath the lantern, and find yourself holding your breath at the memory of choking on noxious fumes and smoke and dust.

The tunnel slopes down steeply now, gravity pulling your forward, deeper and farther than you ever intended to actually go. And light grows. Pinks and blues, mixing to create a purple hue that’s nearly blinding.

The clink, clink, clack is at it’s loudest when you finally come to a stop.

You stand at a threshold – if that’s what you call the precipice where the tunnel opens up to a large carved out cavern. Stone meets metal. The ceiling rises up far above you, landings and walkways high overhead built into the underground. In the center of the room lies some strange contraption, a great kiln or tank perhaps, with thick glass windows that allow bright pink light to escape. The walls of this ground floor are stacked high with crates, and you’re not sure what is in them, but a fainter hue similar to that pink glow seems to escape through the wooden slats.

But it’s not the strange crates and lights. Not even the scent of putrid sweetness that tickles your nose.

It’s the people. Above you are shadows of men, big and tall and looming. But on this ground level – children. Masked they scurry up and down the stairwells. Not one of them looks like they weigh enough to stand but they haul smaller crates to and fro hurrying along as the guard’s violent shouts ring after them.

“What ‘ave we here?” a voice calls out and you turn, still beneath the shadows of the tunnel ceiling and to your surprise find a pair of kohl lined eyes peering at you from ten yards away. If the underground had any standard of fashion, this man would be halfway between middle class and street rodent.

Slimy blond hair and a knotted and worn collar. Knives on his belt. A tongue that runs over his lips in the most disgusting way possible, wet saliva shining on his lips. He steps towards you, legs swinging out as he takes his time and you step back into the tunnel. Out from behind his back he brings a single glass vial, luminescent fuscia liquid sloshing around inside.

“Ah-ah-ahhhhh,” he says stepping faster as you start to turn. “I wouldn’t run if I were you,” he calls. You twist around to find him nearly upon you. “Pretty lil thing. Come to try a taste?” he jeers as he swipes his hand out, passing the open vial beneath your nose. You breathe in and immediately regret it.

The burning scent of vinegar makes you recoil. The smell is strong enough that you can taste it – soured oil and flowery perfume that’s been fermented in an old sheep’s bladder. It’s the sweet scent of decay, of bacteria eating away at rotted flesh mixed with an acid bath.

You swallow and step back. “No,” you shake your head. “No, thank you.”

“No,thank yooouu?” he mocks, a wispy laugh leaving him as he shuts the vial with the pad of his thumb. “So polite,” he says, smile disappearing as he drops his head and leers. “But not smart. Smart people don’t just wander in where they have no business—”

“I was lost,” you tell him firmly, keeping your chin level as you stare up at him, slipping your hands behind your back to hide the way they shake.

The sound of metal sliding against leather makes you look down just as the flat of his blade bops against the tip of your nose. “You were being nosey,” he says, laughing at his own little pun. “Ha! Nosey.”

You shake your head as footsteps sound behind you. “I—”

“Y/N,” a voice calls your name and your eyes widen as you and the man both turn. Up the slope of the tunnel beneath the blue lantern light stands Silco. His hair is askew, strands tousled over his brow as he stares down at you. You look up at him with wide eyes, lips parted as your lungs hold on to the air trapped within your chest, a growing pressure blooming. Silco’s gaze leaves yours slowly and he looks to the man behind you, before jutting his chin down the tunnel. It’s a silent order and for a moment, you’re not sure the man will follow it.

“Heh,” the man breathes in your ear. “See you around, prettything.”

You glance over your shoulder and find him walking away. When you turn your back to him you find Silco, watching you.

“You should know better than to go poking around in the fissures,” he says darkly.

You swallow dryly. “Things have changed,” you whisper, knowing your words have more than one meaning. Because as you face off with him, you can feel the chasm between you, that red-gold gaze of his piercing as he glowers, as though you’ve wronged him one time too many.

“As I’ve told you,” he says, voice just this side of cutting. Then he turns, so he stands perpendicular to you. He holds out a hand, gesturing up the tunnel’s incline. You don’t move and he tilts his head nodding to whatever lays behind you. “Unless you’d like to stay?”

Without a word, you tighten the hold you have on your bag and walk forward, moving past him not looking at him once, not even to see if he’s following.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve been back at The Last Drop for awhile now. The minutes tick by in time with the clock. Your eyes began to droop with exhaustion a while ago, but you force them open. You sit on the couch, staring holes into the old carpet before looking to the window every now and then. Silco stands before it, his back to you, coat slung over one arm. He’s still as a statue. No movement. No sound. No sign of what he’s thinking.

“Are you going to say anything?” you ask finally, voice rasping.

He lifts his head to peer up at the city ceiling as though marveling at some great masterpiece. “What do you want me to say?” he asks.

Your shoulders slump as you reach up, pressing your hands to your face. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

A groan leaves you and you drop your hands, slapping your palms to your knees before glaring at him. You stand. “Fine. Do whatever you want. I’ll leave after—”

“Leave?” he chuckles darkly shaking his head. “Again?”

Your hands ball into fists. “Again?” you repeat as he twists round to peer at you. “You left first,” you tell him. He stares at you unblinking. You swallow around a lump in your throat. “That’s what we do, you leave and I pick up my pieces and try to move on – try to live my life.”

He raises one brow curiously. “In the depths of the fissures?” he asks and you fall silent. Crossing his arms, he turns around fully. “If I hadn’t found you, you could have been killed.”

“Would you have cared?” you spit back.

His cheek twitches, nostrils flaring as you glare at one another. Stepping forward he lowers his hands as he comes to his desk. He leans forward, palms sliding over the desktop. “Do you really think,” he says, leaning forward, “that if I had wanted you gone tonight, I would have let you stay? This is my home. I left to clear my head and I came back to find you gone – no note, no clue as to where you’d gone or if you were coming back.”

Your body feels like it’s standing in the middle of an earthquake, hands shaking, body almost vibrating with absolute anger as you march forward towards the desk. You mirror him, hands slamming against the wood as you glare up at him.

“You did the exact. Same. Thing,” you enunciate, jabbing your index finger against the bare wood in front of him. “You told me I was a mistake and you left. Because that’s what you do. You make decisions for us and then you run and you hide and you leave me in the dark wondering what in the hell I’m going to do next. But now at least I have the satisfaction of knowing that youknow just how it feels.”

Silco’s eyes narrow. His jaw clenches. He speaks through his teeth. “You have no ideawhat I’m feeling,” he nearly snarls.

You nod sharply, keeping your eyes trained on his. “You’re right, I don’t. But don’t bother telling me. It’s probably a lie anyway because everything about you is untrue.” You push yourself back, glancing him up and down as your arms swing at your sides. “I kept my secrets. I’ve made mistakes. But I never thought you would be one of them.”

Silco blinks at that and you know it’s the closest you’ll get to seeing him flinch. He stands frozen as you turn and step towards the bedroom, bending down and picking your bag up off the floor. Hoisting it over your shoulder you walk away from him, only stopping once you’re at the door. You turn around and he’s still there, hunched over the desk but his eyes have trailed after you. Your hand closes over the cold doorknob.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” you tell him, making a silent promise.

The door latches closed behind you.

~~~~~~

READCHAPTER 11 HERE

A/N: Thoughts?

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