#silco league of legends
Hi guys!
I, like you all, am very frustrated about Silco’s death, so I’m inspired to create a comic with an alternative continuation of his story. I hope this can make a difference. I would love to see Silco alive in Arcane, in League of Legends or somewhere else.
The Ghosts of Zaun
pages 1-2
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Another Silco Make-up test!
Pro-Tip for applying hot gelatin to your face: use a spatula for hot wax or sugaring paste that has a temperature indicator. You really don’t want to apply gelatin to your face when it’s too hot. Wouldn’t want to end up looking like Silco for real eh
Photography by @bonesonmyface
Silco Make-up test
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Photography by @bonesonmyface
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Silco: affection
Fandom: Arcane
- Silco prefers to keep his private matters behind closed doors.
- He is by no means embarrassed to admit he’s in a relationship with you. His restraint has more to do with the way he got used to living - on his own, with his back always tense, expecting to be stabbed by the people claiming to be allies.
- It’s difficult to let go of the old habits. To realize there’s now a pair of eyes watching his back, protecting him whenever he needs it.
- And it feels wonderful.
- Even on the worst of days, Silco knows you’ll be there for him. That he can come back to his private rooms, lock the doors and sit down on the couch or the bed and soon you’ll join him. He just needs to open up his arms and you’ll sit on his lap, and wrap your arms around him.
- You are warm and the crook of your neck feels like home. Silco often kisses that spot before hiding his face there and just breathing you in for a few moments. His hands rub over your back in a manner soothing both of you. Sometimes Silco talks about his day, especially the shitty parts of it, because it feels freeing. He doesn’t mind you listening in silence. He doesn’t mind you offering advice either.
- But more often than not, what helps Silco calm down is just your presence, closed in his arms and safe. The knowledge that no matter how bad things go, he will always have you standing firmly by his side. That he has someone to come back to.
- Silco isn’t used to being affectionate.
- Instead, he often chooses to go along with whatever you want or need. Do you want to run your hands through his hair, even after he’s carefully combed it back? He’s fine with it, it’s just hair after all. Would you like to borrow his favorite coat? He’ll lend it to you for however long you want and enjoy the view. He might even order you a new, better one without telling you.
- Silco usually refrains from public displays of affection, but there are moments in the middle of some meetings when he forgets himself and allows his hand to wander over your knee or thigh and squeeze it gently.
- When you sit on his lap (and he’ll often encourage you to) Silco loves running his hands over your thighs.
- If you allow your hair to grow out, Silco wouldn’t mind brushing it for you. He might even braid it if you asked - he’s had plenty of experience after learning Jinx’s various hairstyles over the years. His hands are gentle and caring. He’d kiss the crown of your head once he was finished.
- Silco loves having you close to him. He often asks you to put the Shimmer in his eye or to cover his scar with concealer. He argues that you have a much better view of his face than he’ll do even with the biggest of mirrors.
- Silco usually just quietly looks at you as you work, seated comfortably on his lap. He’d lean back in his chair and enjoy the way you carefully hold his face in place and the kisses you pepper everywhere, especially around his scars. Silco would melt if you looked him in the eyes and said that you love him just as much without the concealer.
Is This Betrayal? Chapter 13 | 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|Chapter Eleven| Chapter Twelve
Description: The world begins to topple. All with the stroke of a pen…
It starts with a letter. It comes in the middle of the day with the rest of the daily documents Sevika sets on his desk. He goes through them one by one. There’s the routine number reports. The scout reports from the surface. Accounts of bribes given throughout the day. An enforcer here. A ship captain there. It all adds up. Then he comes to the end of the pile.
He reaches out, picks it up. The envelope is of a finer quality than anything his men would ever use. A cerulean blue seal glints up at him, flecks of gold in the wax. Wasteful. He nearly sneers at the swirling ‘K’ that embosses the seal. But a knife twists in his gut. He tears it open.
Silco’s back is to the door when you stroll into the office, mug of tea in one hand, plate of food in the other. He’s been cooped up in here all day, and if you hadn’t begged him to come to bed, he would have stayed there all night. You bite back a sigh as you work your way around the desk, quietly setting the plate in the center. You silently move to the window, taking a sip of your tea. You release the sigh and close your eyes.
“Feeling better?” Silco’s voice drifts from behind you.
You raise and eyebrow and shrug your shoulders, muscles coiling beneath your skin. “Keep the wastebin handy,” you murmur as you turn around expecting to see a small smile.
But he’s not looking at you. He’s staring at a letter, edges crumpling beneath the pressure of his fingers as his gaze scans each and every word. You hold the tea mug with both hands, heat nearly scalding your skin. But you pay it no mind.
He looks… worried?
“Sil?” you call, and he keeps reading, one line, then another, and then finally he lifts his eyes and his brow smooths, his eyes widen.
You glance at the letter that’s still in his hands, though they fallen to rest in his lap. He follows your gaze. He clears his throat. Then he folds it up, turns in his chair, opens the center drawer of his desk and sets it inside. He pushes it closed and stands, twisting back to you.
“Is everything alright?” you ask.
He nods. “It’s fine. Just work.”
You glance at the desk as he moves towards you. “Are you sure?” you ask hesitantly.
“It’s nothing,” he says again, turning to lean against the window. He tilts his head as his elbow rests on the window sill and his hip juts against the wall. “Your eyes look brighter,” he says.
You roll them as he uncouthly attempts to change the subject. “Thanks,” you drawl, hiding a small smile. You glance at the desk, question growing on your tongue, readying to release.
“We should go somewhere,” Silco says before you have a chance to ask about the letter again. You shut your mouth, eyes darting up to look at him. He raises an eyebrow, knowing full well that he’s caught your full attention. “You could use some clean air.” He sidles forward, setting a hand on your waist. He looks down as his other hand slide down the curve of your belly, still small but definitely noticeable through your dress. “And you shouldn’t be cooped up in here with me. It’s not good for you. Either of you,” he amends, glancing up at you.
Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance out the window, shadows moving up and down the street beneath the neon signs and blinking lights. “You have somewhere in mind?” you ask.
“I do,” he says with a nod. Leaning forward, he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. You set your mug of tea on the windowsill. “If you could go anywhere, right now, where would it be?” he asks as he pulls back.
“Anywhere?” you ask a suspicious look on your face. Silco nods quickly. “Somewhere with snow,” you sigh, smiling as he bristles.
“Snow,” he repeats after you, unamused, though there’s glint in his eyes.
“Somewhere so cold your nostrils freeze when you breathe in,” you say, biting the tip of your tongue as Silco shakes his head.
“Well,” he scrunches his nose, “you’d go alone then. You know I hate the cold.”
Stepping forward you loop your arms around his neck, craning back to look up at him as his hands fall naturally to your waist. “It’s because you’re nearly skin and bones,” you inform him.
“Is it?”
“Mhmm,” you purse your lips, stopping up a laugh that threatens to spill as he narrows his eyes, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. “But I’d keep you warm,” you whisper, lowly, ghosting your lips across his jawline. His hold tightens. “And busy.”
“I’m already busy,” he says.
“Well, where would you want to go then?” you ask, with the most dramatic of pouts.
Silco’s teeth glint as he smiles sharply. Your arms fall as he steps to the side, cocking your head as he takes your hand in his. A knowing look is on his face, sharp and mischievous as though he’s on the trail of an idea he knows will lead somewhere interesting. He pulls you behind him by the hand, leading you around the desk and toward the door, only stopping to let you grab your coat off the hook.
“How about I show you?” he asks. “Right now.”
And with that, you leave his office behind along with that letter all the curiosity that came with it.
~~~
Dear Sir,
While my search in Piltover continues, I am finding it increasingly difficult to excuse my wife’s absence to our friends, loved ones and neighbors. I must implore you to hasten all searches within the undercity. She must be found. As this is our third correspondence in the past month with no reply, I find that I must insist upon a meeting, preferably face to face. I know from our previous encounters how much you deplore being ‘summoned’ and therefore, I firmly request that you find the time within your schedule to at the very minimum update me on any leads you have come into the possession of.
Y/N’s safety and that of our unborn child is my utmost concern. I find myself impatient to see their return to our home and should renegotiations of our business arrangement need to be discussed, I would gladly take part in them if such actions are needed.
However, I feel I must inform you that should my wife’s absence continue, there will come a point where I will be compelled to inform and enlist the assistance of the city’s police force. For both you and I, with our inventive partnership, this could prove… uncomfortable.
I await your response with eager anticipation.
Sincerely,
Daiden K.
READ CHAPTER 14 HERE
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Is this Betrayal? Chapter 12 | 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|Chapter Eleven
WARNINGS: SMUT, 18+
Your fingers softly rake through black strands of hair. The room is silent, one word reverberating through it.
No.
You smile at the sound, but it’s a sad expression of acceptance and realization. Things won’t be like they were before; though you can’t tell if that means they’ll be for better or for worse.
“You say that so easily,” you whisper. You tilt your head for a moment before your gaze falls to the top button of his vest. “But even if I don’t leave tomorrow, we both know you’ll leave me again,” you say, voice steady as though you’ve just told him what color the sky is. “Even if it’s not by choice.”
Silco’s face morphs into a deep frown. “We all leave at some point,” he says lowly. You shake your head, brow furrowing.
“Don’t make this a philosophical debate, please,” you tell him, eyes hard as you stare up at him. His teeth bite into his cheek before slowly relaxing, his gaze dropping as he nods. “How many times can you leave and still expect me to stay?” you ask and he looks up at you, head jerking up sharply. “I can’t take it. I can’t—” you pause as a lump swells in your throat. You reach up, brushing your fingers against his cheek. “You’re asking me to stay, when I know that if I do, I’ll only be waiting for the moment you disappear. I don’t want to live counting the seconds I get to have with you.”
He tilts his head, a sharp huff of air escaping his lips. “But are you really satisfied living with only the little time we’ve had together up to now?” he leans forward, slipping an arm around your side. “Because I’m not. I want more.” His grip on your waist tightens as he drags out the word.
A sad laugh leaves you as you smile through clenched teeth. You lean forward, bowing your head before turning to the side. Your cheek rests against his chest. He seems to freeze against you in surprise, though you can’t see his face, before he softens, letting you melt into him. His arms maneuver themselves around to hold you. His heartbeat is faster than usual.
“You’ve never known when to stop wanting more,” you tell him quietly. “One day it’s going to get you hurt.”
“Hmmm…” he hums above you, but says nothing substantial in reply. You stand there together for a moment. A gentle sway sends you back and forth, only an inch or so in either direction. The room is silent as you drown yourself in the sound of his heartbeat and breaths and the scent of his cologne mixing with a tinge of cigar smoke.
“Don’t leave me,” he murmurs finally as your eyes begin to close. “Forgive me – just give me more time.”
You breathe in as you straighten up, leaning back as his hands hold fast, not letting you escape, only allowing you to move back far enough that you can crane your head to peer up at him. And in the first moment you look him in the eye, you want to say yes. An immediate, unabashed – fully committed, ‘yes’. But there’s too many questions, too many what if’s and so you go back to the biggest one of all. One you’ve already asked tonight. The one he hasn’t quite given you an answer for yet.
“What about the baby?”
Silco’s mouth thins as your words leave you. He purses his lips and swallows. He weighs the question silently, and you can’t tell which way the scales are leaning. In your favor? Or against? His head bobs a few moments later. “I want you and everything that is yours.”
Wide eyed and speechless you stand frozen, hands still where they land along his upper arms. Your mouth is dry. And you honestly feel sick to your stomach as a whirlwind of feelings seems to rush through your body from the tips of your toes, up to the top of your head in a blinding storm. You’re not sure you know up from down. You’re happy. You’re scared. You feel everything all at once and it’s staggering as your knees seem to want to give out from beneath you.
“Sil,” you whisper and he nods his head as though he knows just what you’re thinking and feeling – as though he feels it all too. “Don’t lie to me,” you tell him.
“I’m not,” he replies.
He ducks down, bringing his lips to yours. The kiss is almost timid as though he’s forgotten how, as though he’s scared you’ll run screaming if he moves too fast. But his arms still hold you tightly and you lean against him your own arms looping around his neck as you return the kiss. Your bend back as he finds his courage as he ventures to tease you with his tongue, quick breaths here and there wherever you both can steal them. You finger the fabric of his tie where it lays loosely beneath his collar. The silk is smooth between your fingers. The feeling is grounding where the headiness of feeling him, tasting him, is overwhelming.
When your muscles begin to object to the angle at which you’re currently pressed, you rise up on your toes, hands cupping his face. He lets you change the pace, quick kisses passing between you before he moves to the side laving along the edge of your jaw and down the line of your neck. His hands bunch up the loose fabric of your night dress, but he makes no move to pull the garment over your head and leave you bare. So you focus on the buttons of his vest, the buttons of his shirt. His pants. You set to peeling them off one by one. The vest falls first. You part the fabric of his shirt, pressing your palm against the center of his chest. Heated skin meets your finger tips and he pulls back from mouthing at your collarbone, and watches as you push his shirt off his shoulders.
He stands still as your let your hand trail down his stomach, only moving when your fingers graze the top button of his trousers. His hand catches yours, squeezing gently as you glance up at him. He gestures behind you with a jut of his chin. “Lay down,” he murmurs. His eyes are dark, voice low and raspy. And you realize this isn’t going to be quick and simple.
You slip your hand from his and turn to the side, fingers gripping at the skirt of your gown, before pulling it up, up, up. It travels over your head, hair mussed in its wake, before you toss it to the side. You look to your right. He’s paused in undoing his pants, only one button left, in favor of watching you and you shiver as his gaze passes over you. Taking a breath, you look away before shuffling out of your underwear and kicking it across the floor to pile with your dress and his shirt and vest.
Then you climb down into the bed, knees pulled up as he follows after you, just as naked, just as bare. It’s like he’s chasing you. You barely have time to settle, to turn before he’s kissing you again, hands slipping through your hair. A gasp leaves you as he guides you back towards the two pillows behind you. Then he moves downwards, lips pressing to your collarbone, your chest. You want to follow him, pull him back up to you. You sit up on your elbows just as he pushes your legs apart. He glances up at you and a sharp smirk grows on his lips before his face disappears and his tongue is on you.
“Silco,” you gasp out his name groaning as he hums back.
He pulls back for a moment, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “You make the filthiest sounds,” he tells you with a short laugh.
Before you can retort, he’s on you again, sucking and licking and teasing and taking. It’s an onslaught of sensation as though he can’t get enough of you and in between the blank moments where your brain loses all focus, you’re not sure you have enough to give him. His fingers begin to take part, sliding through your slick folds as you whine higher and louder. Your grip on the bedsheets breaks as you reach down raking your nails through his hair and across his scalp. Heat and pressure and tension. It’s the perfect combination as your pleasure climbs until you know you’re nearing the peak, and you’re ready, needy, wanting.
And then he stops.
“Sil,”you whine out, body trembling as he pushes himself up and away from your core, leaving you empty and wet and positively throbbing for him to return.
You reach out as he climbs back over you, his face above yours. You drag your thumb over his mouth, finding a mix of your own wetness and his saliva still on his lips. It’s evidence. You wipe it away before arching your back and bringing yourself up to lick lightly at the corner of his mouth. He catches you then, pushing you down into the mattress, yet keeping you locked in a long kiss, tongues meeting and mingling. He’s nearly laying atop you now, chest to chest and you can feel how you each rise and fall with much needed breaths. He breaks away, taking your hand in his, turning it over palm side up, and leading you down between the two of you.
“Do you feel that?” he murmurs as your hand finds his length, fingers naturally curling around the girth. He’s hot and heavy in your hand. You feel his pulse in your grasp. “I’m desperate for you,” he says, dipping down, and licking a stripe along your collarbone.
“You’re so hard,” you murmur as you close your eyes and feel. You squeeze your hand gently and enjoy the hoarse groan that leave him, the crown of his head pressing into the pillow beneath you. He tries and fails to keep his hips still, a quick reflexive jerk shaking the bed as you keep hold of him.
Panting, he rises up, settling on his hands and knees as he peers down at you. He looks you over, as though he can see every cell that makes you up. “Because you’re mine now,” he tells you. You hand stills before releasing his cock, letting it fall to rest along the line of your hip. He holds himself on one hand and traces the side of your face with the other. “Yes?” he asks. “You’re mine?”
Your lips part in surprise. Tears burn at the corner of your eyes. You nod your head quickly, reaching up. Your fingers run over his scars as he searches your face for any sign of what you’re thinking or feeling.
With a sigh, you sit up slowly as he rises and sits back on his knees. His brow twitches. You lay a hand on the left side of his chest, running the pad of your thumb across of line of freckles beneath his collarbone.
“Y/N?” he murmurs your name, setting a hand on your thigh.
“I’ve always been yours,” you murmur back, glancing up at him holding your breath as his gaze flits down to your stomach for a moment before he forces it back up. You take a breath. “I was never his,” you whisper and he starts to shake his head, eye closing.
“Y/N—”
“It’s the truth,” you say. He glances at you. You lean forward, sliding your hand over his shoulder and up his neck, fingers carding through the hair that brushes over his nape. “So, if I’m yours, if I’ve always been yours… tell me you love me,” you tell him, leaning forward and pressing your lips to his chin before ducking to the side and doing the same to his jaw. It’s half taunt, half request. But it’s been years since he’s said the words explicitly and you’ve waited long enough. You deserve to hear them. You need to hear them.
But Silco bristles. No words come out. A tiny part of you wonders if he can’t say them because he doesn’t want to, because his feelings for you are only surface deep. But the rest you? It’s patient. You know him. You know what you’re asking for.
“I…” his voice cuts off and he clears his throat as you blink up at him with big eyes, lashes slowly fluttering up and down as you peer up at him. “I love you,” he says finally.
“Mmmm,” you hum as you pull back, nose grazing the tip of his own nose. “For how long?”
“What?”
“How long have you loved me?” you rephrase, with a small shrug.
A shadow seems to pass through the room and a near growl leaves him. He leans forward, pressing his brow to yours. “You think I ever stopped?”
You gasp as he nips at the corner of your mouth, and fall backwards, the weight of him following after you. And you’re right back where you started, staring up at him as he leans over you, his body so close, you barely know where he begins and you end. But you could be closer.
“Then you’re mine too?” you whisper.
Silco’s gaze is steadily baring down on you, and it’s like staring at the sun. Blinding. Then it softens. He bows his head, hair falling over his brow like a dark curtain. “I will always be yours, Y/N.” Warm lips meet yours. “Whether you leave tomorrow,” he tilts his head and kisses you again, “or never.”
A blooming feeling twists in your stomach, a mix of giddiness and need that you’ve not felt in a long time. You spread your legs and bend your knees to hook them round his hips, bed jostling beneath you as he raises and eyebrow. You keep his gaze trained on you, fingers soaking up the heat that’s growing where your skin meets his.
“Then show me,” you tell him. And for someone used to giving orders, he takes this one silently and without question.
It takes a few minutes to build back up to that tension you felt earlier. Tongues and fingers and lips and teeth and skin. You can’t touch enough of him and he can’t feel enough of you as you writhe together until you’re finally clenching around his cock and moaning his name.
He pants in your ear as he shimmies closer, thrusting in as far as he can, striving to feel as much of you as you’ll allow. “Fuck,” he hisses as he bottoms out inside you, teeth grazing the skin of your neck as he breathes in and out through clenched teeth.
“Move,” you beg him, eyes closed, heat rising up your spine, hips grinding against him, begging on their own that he do something. Anything. Your nails claw their way across his shoulders as he acquiesces and pulls back, then forces his way back into you.
It’s a mess of limbs and groans and cries. And where you want him to move faster, he takes his time, and where he wants more of you, you give it all. He takes and he takes and he takes. You’re shaking as his fingers tease you. Muscles quake without permission, stomach tumbling as you arch back, baring yourself for him to press in further and harder and faster.
And when it’s finally over, when he collapses next to you, when you turn to one another with tired eyes and breathless sighs, you’re overcome with this unbearable weight of sadness. It chills your skin and bites its way through your spine.
Silco says nothing as that first tear slides down your cheek, as a gasping little sob leaves your body shaking. He lifts the sheet and scoots over, your legs naturally entwining with his. He props himself up on one elbow and peers down at you. Then he wipes your face, the wetness on his finger tips disappearing as he runs a hand through your hair.
He lets you cry. There’s no questions, no interrogation. He simply strokes you still heated skin with his bare hands. And eventually, the sobs slow. The crying stops. And you’re left with exhaustion. Your body is heavy. He lays down, face next to yours, watching silently. His hand travels down to where yours lays, draped over your stomach, palm pressed to your navel.
That flickering gaze returns, flying between where your hands meet and your face. Unsure. Imperceivable. What’s he thinking? You can’t begin to wonder. Because there’s only one sentence repeating in your brain. It’s been there for days, weeks. Nearly a month, but you’ve never been able to say it aloud. You couldn’t.
I wish…
And without thinking, perhaps because your body is out of any energy to stop yourself, you say it out loud, whimpering as fresh tears begin to stream down the side of your face again.
“I wish it was yours,” you rasp, eyes falling from his face to focus on the hollow his throat. He takes a short breath that catches in his throat. You can’t stand to look at him now, too afraid of what you might see. Can’t bear to witness how his eyes are hardening, how he looks at you with exasperation.
And once again he says nothing. But the bed creaks and you close your eyes as he rises up and you ready yourself for him to climb out of the bed, to leave you alone for the rest of the night. For forever.
A hot breath flows over your temple. Warm lips press to your skin. And solid and sure arms wrap around you, pulling you close and holding you tight.
~~~~~~~~~~~
READ CHAPTER 13 HERE
A/N: 900 follower update! Y'all since mid December almost 400 of you hit my follow button. So I assume most of you are Silco readers. I hope you liked this chapter!
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Is This Betrayal? Chapter 16 | 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|Chapter Eleven| Chapter Twelve|Chapter Thirteen|Chapter Fourteen|Chapter Fifteen
The doubt is always there now. It’s in every conversation, every glance. Something has to give.
“That topside rat really thinks he doesn’t need us, doesn’t he?” Sevika growls out behind him before taking a draft of her cigar.
Silco looks up from the ledger in his hand, the pink light of the shimmer vats glowing in his eyes. Shutting the book, he tucks it beneath his arm and turns to look at her. There’s that visage of doubt. She’s never been an easy read but even Sevika has her moments.
“Desperation makes the man with the most to lose think he has everything to give,” he murmurs. Sevika rolls her eyes, drops her cigar butt and stamps it out beneath the toe of her boot. “We can wait him out.”
Kicking off the wall, she shrugs her shoulders, the sound of metal grating echoes through the causeway. “You’re the boss,” she breathes, moving past him. She looks up at the stalled production line, the normally busy catwalks standing empty. Silco narrows his eyes. “But another week without work, another day without a steady influx of cash and they’re going to call for an assembly.”
He grits his teeth. He’s never been one to hide his expressions from her. There’s no need. She’s not the enemy. And he lets a pure snarl break through. “You’re going somewhere with this, I take it?”
She doesn’t flinch or look away, simply blinks slowly and raises an eyebrow. “We need to get rid of the problem.” She cranes her head as he turns away, breathes in and rakes a hand through his hair. “Waiting longer will only make it worse. And you knew this was never going to end well.”
He’s silent then. The drip of water in some far crevice of the warehouse is all that can be heard as he stares into the pink lit chamber of one of the containers. A thousand thoughts flood his mind and he weighs them all against another, sorting through choice after choice and all the permeating consequences. And Sevika gives him time. She knows better than to break that focus.
Finally, he turns back to face the room, his gaze sliding up to stare at her steadily.
“I want you to handle the job,” he says. “Cleanly. No tracing it back to us.”
Sevika’s head tilts. “I can do that.”
“And I want eyes on them the entire time.”
“Yes, sir.”
She waits a few seconds for any more orders. But no more leave him as he opens his ledger and begins reading and making notes. Reaching up, she pulls her hood over her hair and turns on her heel, heading for the tunnel out to the streets.
“Sevika?”
She stops two steps later and pivots to face him. His back is turned to her now, his nose buried in that book of numbers and names and shipments and dates. His voice is steady, but it’s softer now. Not a good sign.
“I don’t want her harmed. Do what you have to, but I’ll hold you responsible for that.”
Her teeth grind as she narrows her eyes. “Whatever you say, Boss,” she grumbles out before turning and stalking off. Her metal fingers curl into an iron fist.
Author’s note:
Alright, y'all, who is ready for this final arc?! I promise I am done with these transition chapters and the next one will be a doozy as we finally find out just what Silco has planned for Daiden.
BTW I missed you all and I hope you are well. I have posted the taglist below one last time. If you want to stay on it, pls let me know in the comments, otherwise you will be removed for future chapters as I don’t want to spam anyone. <3
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Is This Betrayal? Chapter 15 | 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|Chapter Eleven| Chapter Twelve|Chapter Thirteen|Chapter Fourteen
Three months. That’s how long it’s been since he was last forced to sit across from the one surfacer he can’t get rid of. There’s too many strings attached.
Daiden scowls across the table as if the feeling is mutual. “You didn’t respond to my letters,” he says lowly as he chews a piece of steak before reaching down taking his napkin in hand and wiping his mouth. Silco raises an eyebrow but says nothing. “I was beginning to think you had disappeared just the same as Y/N.”
“I had other matters to attend to. Ones that didn’t involve you.”
“And now they do?”
Silco tilts his head and smile sharply before reaching into the inner pocket of his coat. He brings out an envelope and tosses it onto the tabletop. “I need to increase the next shipment’s volume. Since you so kindly cancelled the last two.” He crosses his arms.
“I had to get your attention somehow.”
“You have it now,” Silco replies dryly.
Daiden glances at the parcel but makes no move to take it. “Couldn’t send one of your little errand boys?”
“I imagine you’ve been quite irate at my sudden silence,” Silco shrugs. “It was time we had a chat, a reminder of exactly who we’re both working with.”
“The last chat we had, you promised to find my wife,” Daiden seethes, the cool façade breaking as he leans forward. “I had to tell everyone she’s visiting her family.”
“Your marital problems aren’t mine to fix.”
“Maybe not,” Daiden spits, “but I know I’m the only man in Piltover that can get your goods through the port and with that new contraption – the Hexgate they’re building? I’m standing between you and what could potentially be a very lucrative business. Shipments across the continents in a matter of hours? You need me.”
“No one understands better than I do how deals change, but you’re making a lot of assumptions about how far I’m willing to accommodate you…” Silco breathes, “and your questionablejudgement.”
The feet of Daiden’s chair squeak against the hardwood floor as he stands, and leans over the table, hands molded into fists against its surface. “No shipments, no meetings, nothing until I have my wife back. Find her. Or I’ll go to the enforcers and see if they can and while I’m there, I’ll mention the role the up-and-coming industrialist is playing in the rampant smuggling coming from Piltover’s port.”
Silco stares up at him unblinking, mouth a thin line. His teeth are on edge and he’s weighing the pros and cons of throwing out his own threats and poking holes in Daiden’s. The fool can’t report him without implicating himself. But there’s a wild glint in the man’s eye that keeps him seated. With a sound of disgust, Daiden turns, pulls his coat off the back of his chair and stalks off away from their table.
“Mr. Kaya,” Silco calls softly. Daiden stops. He’s still for a moment then another before he turns. “Think carefully before your next move. Wouldn’t want you to make a mistake you’ll come to regret.”
A sneer slides over Daiden’s face before he shakes his head and turns, walking away. The sound of his footsteps fade and Silco runs a hand through his hair with a ragged breath. Reaching forward, he takes the envelope in one hand and his glass in the other. He slips the paper into his pocket, taking a quick sip, wincing at the sting that laces his tongue. Without a word he sets the glass down and stands, pulling his coat over his shoulders before taking the first step towards the door with a dark glare and a heavy sigh.
~~~~~
READCHAPTER 16 HERE
Sorry I’ve been gone so long! I started a new business venture while also working full time and yada yada. How have you guys been? I’ve missed you!
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Is this Betrayal? Chapter 14 | 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|Chapter Eleven| Chapter Twelve|Chapter Thirteen
Everything is laced with doubt.
It is a silent journey from the lanes to the surface. You’ve left the lifts behind and find yourself walking down a myriad of twists and turns, no true idea where you are. Unlike the lanes, which are alive and bustling right now, the surface streets are silent and still. You’ve been walking for fifteen minutes, and not once have you seen another soul. And the night sky doesn’t help matters. It’s dark and a chilled breeze follows you. Your stomach clenches. You grip the hand in yours tighter, sidling up against the man next to you.
“Where are we going?”
He glances over at you. “It’s a surprise.”
“Silco.”
A soft, questioning, sleepy mumble rises up from beneath the layers of sheets and the duvet. “Mmmm?” You look down over the bed, taking in the form hidden from sight. The slightest movement shifts under the blankets, and warm hands slide over your skin. Lips press against the center of your chest before drifting up to graze your collarbone.
You blink up at the sunlight, bright and sharp glints through the rafters. Your head falls back onto the pillow. You sigh. “How long are we going to stay here?”
Candlelight fills your eyes. “It’s…” your voice dies as you glance over your shoulder. He’s in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
“It’s yours,” he says stepping forward, a soft kick of his heel closes the door behind him.
You frown. “Mine?”
A soft sigh blows over your skin. The bed shifts. The blankets are raised and a pair of mismatched eyes rise and blink down at you.
“However long we want to,” Silco breathes softly. He reaches over, softly raking his fingers through your hair as his gaze drifts. “Sunlight is your color,” he tells you.
“You hate the sun. You’ve always been more a fan of shadows and darkness,” you murmur back. “And red.”
“For myself,” Silco says with a nod. “It’s whereIbelong.” Then his mouth curls into a smile. “But up here…” he glances over his shoulder, blue sky flashing through the window before he turns back, blocking your view. “Where the light meets your skin – it’s stunning.” He bends down, pressing his lips to your temple.
“Is that why we’re here?” you whisper as he pulls away. You open your eyes and find him staring down at you, face impassive. That golden eye of his sends a shiver down your spine as he falls still above you. “Last night…” you swallow, before turning your head, looking out at the room.
It’s simple and so unlike Silco’s room at the Drop. The floors are sturdy, no rotting boards. The paint is solid, unpeeling.
“You bought me an apartment,” you say slowly as Silco walks through the room, eyes scanning. He stops next to the foot of the bed in the corner of the room, his attention focused on the window. Light linen drapes are slowly pulled back as he peers down at the street.
The room is silent for three moments too long before he finally responds. “Yes.”
“Why?”
He turns away from the window, fingers letting the drapes fall back into place. “Because I wanted to,” he says with a shrug.
Your head tilts as you level him with your gaze. “You don’t want me with you.”
“That is the opposite of what I want,” he says back. But his voice is low. His gaze is hard, the light of the lamp by the door glinting in his eyes. He steps across the room until he’s in front of you.
“Then why –?”
His hand cups the back of your head gently, guiding you to look up at him. “It’s just a gift, Y/N. If you don’t like it, I’ll sell it off at a profit.”
“That’s not…” you let out a sigh. You look down focusing on the buttons of his vest. Then slowly you bring your gaze up to meet his. “I’m just trying to figure out where you see yourself in this.”
“Y/N, I—”
“Y/N?”
Mouth gone dry, you turn your head. Silco’s sat up completely, brow furrowed. Raking your hands through your hair, you sit up, pulling the sheets over your chest as your legs pull up, arms wrapping around your knees.
“Last night, when you brought me up here to the surface, I-I thought you were going to leave me.”
He frowns. “I—”
You cut your eyes at him. “And then you brought me here.”
“You’ve barely left the Drop since you came to the undercity,” Silco explains. “I thought this would be good for you, for us.” He leans forward, left hand slipping behind you until his palm is pressed flat against your back. “A place for us, where the air is clean and the building is quiet.” He tilts his head as you blink. “I didn’t get to show you last night, but we’ve been here before.”
You scan the room again, clothes scattered across the floor and the table for two on the far end of the room. “I’m… pretty certain I’d remember if we’d been here before, Sil.”
“Mmm,” he hums as he climbs onto his knees, crawling across the bed, moving towards the edge. He glances your way as he prepares to climb out. Then he leans forward. A quick kiss sends your heart into a hammering beat as he climbs over you before sliding out of bed. You look up as he nips your cheek. “Get dressed and come with me.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ahead of you, a towering and shining city stands high, graced with blue skies and accented in gold and white. Clean air that’s never known the decay and rot of chemical runoff and fear. Far below your feet, a buried city chokes on its own death vapors. With one hand clutching the freshly shined metal of the rooftop railing, you peer down at the bridge below.
“Remember now?” a voice croons in your ear.
A breathless laugh leaves you as arms wrap around your middle, the palm of his hand warm against your stomach. You turn your head to the side until you can barely make out the shadow of his face next to yours.
“I thought about it. About coming here,” you tell him. “After you disappeared.”
Silco hums in your ear. “I came back a few times over the years.”
Your eyes widen and you find yourself twisting in his hold. “You did?” you ask and a thousand contemplations of what if flash through your mind. What if you had come here too?
“You wouldn’t have found me,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. His fingers slip beneath your chin. You look up at him, the bright sun shining from behind his head, wreathing him in light. “I wouldn’t have let you.”
Your head falls forward until your brow is pressed into his shoulder. “Why did you bring me here?” you whisper. “Really?”
Fingertips play along your spine as Silco breathes out a sigh. “Daiden wrote me.”
You sit up, eyes wide, panic pinching your ribs together. “When?”
Silco’s head tilts to the side. “Yesterday. It wasn’t the first time. But he’s getting desperate.” He holds you still as you try to back away, the need to pace, to move, to do something, anything tingling through your nerves. “He’s going to have to go to the Enforcers soon.”
“You can handle enforcers,” you say with a frown. “I’ve seen you do it before, that officer comes to you every month.”
“Marcus will be a hand of assistance if it comes to that, but it won’t,” Silco says calmly. “I will handle Daiden. But it’s not safe for you to be in the undercity if he keeps asking the right questions.”
Silco’s arms fall away as you wrestle yourself free, hands flying to the crown of your head as you turn away from him, trying to think. “What do you mean?” you ask over your shoulder as your arms fall, fingers curling around the railing tightly.
“He’s paid off a set of street runners to look for you.” You turn around, questions leaving you but Silco raises his hands. “They came to me and I’ve handled it. Right now, he has no idea where you are, but desperation leads to unpredictable outcomes. You’ll be safer here.” He waves a hand towards the city.
“You’re not leaving me here again,” you warn, turning around.
Silco’s shoulders slump. “Y/N, I—”
“No.”
The pair of you stand off, as you both fall silent. Your hands shake before balling up into fists at your sides. Silco crosses his arms before looking down at his shoes.
“Fine,” he breathes out finally, looking up at you. He lifts his arms before dropping them in a shrug. “Fine, I won’t keep you here.” You lean against the rail with a sigh of relief as he approaches you. He mirrors you, elbow resting on the half wall of railing. You peer at him as he reaches out, dragging his hand up and down the side of your arm. “I didn’t bring you here to scare you.”
“Everything scares me these days,” you reply, looking out over the city.
White gulls swoop this way and that over the harbor. Ships horns echo in the distance. And that breeze that was cool the night before is warm against your cheeks, your skirt fluttering along with it as if it wants to pull you along and lead you somewhere far away.
“Do you ever consider it?” Silco’s voice asks.
Your focus is pulled away from the birds and the shining buildings. You glance at him, his lips in a tight line. “Consider what?”
“Going back to him.”
You blink your eyes as your mind questions exactly what he’s asking. “To Daiden?” you ask, reaching up to pull a wayward strand of hair out of your face. “Of course not.”
Silco’s gaze drifts to the city skyline. “Of course not,” he murmurs. “What about the baby?” he asks, turning back to you.
A shocked huff leaves you. “Silco, what are you—”
“Would you give him your child if he promised to let you go your separate way?”
You stare at him. He stares at you. “How can you even ask me that?”
“You wouldn’t be abandoning them. In comparison to a child of Zaun, they’d be educated, richer than any person has a right to be before they’re even a year old—”
“They’remine,” you all but hiss. Silco falls silent. “It’s my child.”
Silco closes his eye as you fume and bows his head before slowly opening that one blue eye, a sharp breath pulling past his lips. “I know that.”
“Do you?” you whisper, shoulders tensing as you push his hand away where he tries to touch you. “Do you want me to get rid of them? Give them to their monster of a father and pretend they never existed?”
“I want you to be happy,” Silco says sharply, hands grabbing at the air in front of him as he gestures this way and that. “I told you I will handle Daiden and I will but I need to know what I have to work with.”
“Nothing,” you say just as sharply and he blinks at you. “You have nothing to work with, if it means I have to go back to him or lose my baby.”
A tense moment passes between you. Silco’s shoulders square themselves and he clasps his hands behind his back.
“I understand,” he says stiffly.
You step forward, without thought until your face is just inches from his. “Do you?”
His eyes narrow for the shortest of moments. It’s like staring into a midnight storm, black clouds swirling, broken by golden lightning. Then they calm. His shoulders relax and his arms fall forward. “I didn’t mean to upset you – that’s the last thing I want.” He reaches up, fingertips grazing your cheek. “I want to keep you safe. Like I promised.”
Your lips press together tightly. “You can’t trade with Daiden, Silco. He won’t let us go.”
He slides his fingers through your hair and nods. “I know,” he says peering over your head at the city in the distance. “Forget that I even asked such a thing,” he murmurs shaking his head. He looks down at you. “Forgive me?”
You swallow, your own hands rising up to settle over his chest. You look up at him, the slightest of nods leaving you. “Take me home?” you murmur.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
READCHAPTER 15 HERE
A/N: I feel like in this chapter older, logical, devious Silco came out to play for a bit before getting put in time out by Y/N. Beginning of the end anyone??????? Also kinda a big believer in the whole, “the longer you’re with someone, the harder it is for them to hide their true selves.”
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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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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?
Taglist: Please comment to let me know if you would like to be tagged in future updates!
@nelipt
@agentofxana
@teamspiderlady
@silcoslut
@accordianplayingrat
@erinsmith09
@messymanifestation
@nichola-royse
Summary:Being too mouthy at a client gathering, Silco finds a creative way to keep you quiet.
Pairing: Silco x F!Reader
Rating:18+, Minors DNI
Warning: Gag kink, Slight dom/sub, unprotected sex, degrading language, PinV, Aftercare
Thank you to @all-hallows-evie@twistedstitcher27and@aerynwrites for encouraging me to write this. I hope it doesn’t disappoint.
*screams*
*just screams*
*screams incoherently*
I know I got to read it before you posted it but I just re-read it this morning and *screaming intensifys*
S1E3 Arcane
12 minutes left in the episode: AHHHHH I hate Powder so much shes so annoying!!! She had one job, stay put but nooo apparently thats too complex. Literally no redemption arc can make me like her!
After finishing the episode: I take it back. This is great! She’s gonna be such a cool villain please being adopted by Silco was exactly what she needed. Just stop trying to be good and embrace the evil, girl!!! Yes!!!
Arcane spam here.❤️(ig : allieeecakes)
There are so many characters from the series i wanted to draw but let’s start with these two. Thinking about how Silco raised jinx really gave me another level of chaos and i love it.
Silco: I left instructions for everyone while I’m gone
Jinx:……Mine just says “Jinx, no”
Silco: and I want you to apply that to every possible situation
