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starsinmylatte · 2 years

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Desiderium ch 1: Vestiges of the Past

Hi friends! I'm finally back on my regularly scheduled bullshit after graduating from college, so please have the first chapter of my Silco x OC fic as an apology. I hope y'all enjoy!

Pairing: Silco x Original female character

Rating: Explicit (18+ only) minors DNI I will disintegrate your kneecaps

Word count: 2.3k

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Please see below the cut for all applicable tags/warnings

Tags/warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, angst and eventual comfort, canon-typical violence, blood and injury, friends to lovers to enemies to lovers, slow burn, mid-sized female character

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Saying that Silco’s day had gone to shit was an understatement. It was barely noon, and the most feared man in Zaun was in the kind of foul mood that usually took a whole day to cultivate. He was already nursing his second glass of whiskey, this one even more full than the last. Time of day didn’t really matter in the preternatural, constant grey haze of the undercity, or at least that’s what he told himself.

Silco scowled at nothing in particular as he absentmindedly swirled the amber liquor around his lowball glass. He downed the whole thing in one deep draft, and the alcohol traced a fiery path down his throat. It gave a different, almost cathartic pain to distract from his throbbing headache. He slammed the glass down on the desk in frustration, and the force of the impact was enough to send the ice sliding up the side with a satisfying clink. Silco traded the glass for the papers littering his desk, muttering vehemently under his breath as he flipped through them, “failed mission, incomplete report, shipment seized…. Fuck”.

The papers quickly received the same rough treatment as the glass, swiftly spreading across his desk in a fan of his subordinates’ latest failures. Taking over The Last Drop and expanding the shimmer operation meant hiring more new workers was necessary, but they somehow managed to be overwhelmingly disappointing. Silco pushed away from his desk in frustration, massaging his temples. He slowly turned his chair around to face the ornate window behind him and rested his aching head against the high back of his chair. The dim, green glow that defined the undercity greeted him as he pushed his hair back from his face, “some people seem to need a little extra encouragement to do their jobs properly,” he grumbled.

His reprieve was short-lived. Loud, hurried footsteps in the hallway and a sharp knock on his office door jolted Silco upright. He heard the click of the handle turning before he could even start to speak and immediately knew something was wrong. Normally, nobody would dare enter without permission; he had certainly made enough of an example of the last poor sap to try it.

The person rushed in and quickly shut the door behind them. Their breathless panting signaled that they had run all the way here, but it was broken up by small grunts of pain. A soft, steady dripping noise was audible, and Silco inwardly sighed.

At least I’ll get the pleasure of scaring the shit out of whoever this is; Sevika would’ve already spoken up, and Jinx never knocks.

He slowly turned around, eyebrow arched expectantly, and tone dangerously calm as he spoke, “What do you want?”

The man in his office was doubled over, either desperately trying to regain his breath or attempting to stay conscious. At first glance, he looked like he’d been mauled by a wild animal, but that description did his injuries no justice. Deep, angry scratches and several bite marks thoroughly canvassed the exposed skin of his arms and torso. The torn front of his shirt was stained deep crimson, and the rag he held to the side of his face was saturated with blood that steadily dripped onto the floor. Slowly, Silco realized he was the new hire Sevika took with her this morning on patrols.

Any ire Silco had felt was quickly replaced by icy fingers of dread clawing down his spine. “Where is she?”

The man struggled to speak, coughing up even more blood onto the floor with a horrid, gurgling sound. Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, he managed to choke out a few words. “Se..vika fine…. bringing…. her.”

Her?

Despite the vague statement, silent relief flooded Silco as he fished his cigar box out of his desk drawer. He wasn’t familiar with this new hire, but the burly man didn’t look like he would be easy to seriously injure. However, whoever had done this much damage hadn’t managed to take Sevika out. Few things could make the day worse, but losing his right hand to an unknown danger so soon into being the reigning kingpin of the undercity would certainly be one of them.

“Go get Singed to put you back together.” Silco’s tone was still icily calm, but it no longer held the same dangerous edge. Now, it merely reflected the cold disinterest of a powerful man that he tried so hard to cultivate. Emotions were not something the newly crowned Eye of Zaun could afford to regularly show. They were complicated, messy, and the last bit of damning evidence that he still had a heart.

He plucked a cigar out of its gilded box and slid the drawer shut as the mercenary visibly winced. The healing process Singed used would arguably hurt worse than the injury itself, but the mercenary also knew better than to argue or be ungrateful. He opened his mouth to try and voice his thanks, but Silco stopped him with an exasperated wave of his hand.

“My floor doesn’t need any more blood on it. Get out.”

The man nearly tripped over himself as he hurried out of the office. He left the door wide open, much to Silco’s further annoyance.

“At least it’ll be open for Sevika and whoever she’s dragging in,” he muttered.

He expertly trimmed the end of his cigar and lit it, taking time to savor the taste. In the quiet moment before the storm, each extra second of respite was a luxury. The calming effects of the nicotine hit, and the comforting, spicy aroma of his preferred tobacco blend filled the air as Silco turned his attention back to the paperwork. He had no idea what to expect, but he’d be damned if he looked surprised by it. After all, a good poker face was priceless in Zaun, and Silco had one of the best.

He didn’t have to wait long. More footsteps approached and stopped outside his door; one pair sounded steady, and the other seemed decently unstable. Every so often, the sound of the unsteady footsteps would change into the unmistakable sound of feet being drug across the floor. Silco heard Sevika say something in a low, decently threatening tone before they stepped inside, and he simply continued filling out the paperwork. He quickly finished the last tally and looked up. Silco tried to remain impassive, but what was sitting in front of him was far more interesting than anything he could’ve expected.

The woman’s head was covered with a sack, presumably to discourage any more biting, and her arms were bound tightly behind her back. However, that was relatively normal; many of Silco’s more unwilling visitors were brought in with some form of head covering to protect their handler. What was abnormal in this situation was the woman’s appearance.

From the state of the guard, he was anticipating a large, muscular woman with a build like Sevika. At the very least, Silco expected to see one of the various female mercenaries that worked for the other Chem Barons. This woman was very clearly neither. Now, Silco was definitely smart enough not to underestimate the damage a woman could do, but everything about this girl screamed that she was deeply out of place.

I’m sure part of Vash’s current condition is due to a grave miscalculation of the woman’s abilities. I can hardly blame him.

Silco leaned back in his chair, studying the sight in front of him, a slightly sardonic smile pulling at the corner of his lips. The violence was the most brutal, animalistic thing he’d seen since Deckard ripped through the enforcers, but the source of this incident was surprisingly easy on the eyes.

Her dress was blackened with grime from the streets and nearly torn to shreds, but it was obviously once beautiful and would have been right at home among Piltover’s elite. It was a white and gold confection that hugged every generous curve of the short woman’s body like it had been tailor-made. The deep v-shaped cut in the front was accentuated by gold and displayed her decolletage like a prize, but even a Zaunite prostitute would have worn a more practical dress. A deep slit had been torn in the form-fitted skirt to allow for easier movement, but the dress was still as out of place in Zaun as a dove would be among ravens.

Sevika walked over to shut the door. “Vash found her outside one of the storehouses. After I pulled her off of him, she wouldn’t say a word. I figured you’d want to see her.”

Some distant part of Silco’s brain registered the man’s name, but most of his attention was still focused on the woman in front of him. Her exposed skin was filthy, bloody, and bruised in many places, but otherwise, it was easy to tell she lacked the scars and marks that years of continuous life in the undercity left on all Zaunites.

The woman had very obviously been through hell and back; she wore no shoes under the ragged hem of the dress, and her feet were cracked and bleeding as if she’d been running for days. However, her posture did not match the battered condition of her appearance. Her head was slightly bowed, but her whole body was tensed as if she were a wild animal, ready to fight or flee at a moment’s notice.

Silco’s mind raced.

This woman is obviously from Piltover. Vash underestimating her would explain his injuries to an extent….. but she was able to cause that kind of damage, and she still has fight left in her?

He looked up and raised a single questioning eyebrow at Sevika, who merely shrugged in response and gestured up and down at the dress in a manner that very clearly said, “What the fuck?”.

Silco waved his hand in exasperation and motioned for Sevika to remove the sack. He picked a knife off his desk, flipping it open and studying the fine edge of the blade.

Far be it from me to not learn from the mistakes of others.

Sevika slashed through the tie in one fluid motion and ripped the sack off her head. White-blonde curls sprang free from their confines, and Silco instantly felt his world slam to a halt. They were as filthy and bloodstained as the dress, but they were still achingly familiar. He had only ever seen them on one other girl- the first girl he had ever loved and the first person who ever betrayed him.

It can’t be.

The heart Silco pretended not to have anymore started to ache. Memories flashed through his mind at a rapid-fire pace. A beautiful girl with a head of curly blonde hair drinking and laughing beside him and Vander, celebrating their first successful mission….. the first time he held her close and claimed her soft lips with his own…. and the day he found the note that broke his heart.

The woman’s chest heaved as she greedily sucked in the fresh air, cleavage threatening to spill over the tight neckline of the dress. She visibly steeled herself and glared up at Silco, her forest-green eyes barely focused but still burning with a baleful inner fire. Her plush lips were drawn back into a muted snarl, revealing bloodstained teeth. However, as soon as her eyes connected with his, the fury shifted to disbelief and utter confusion. Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, her beautiful eyes settled on one emotion: heartbreak.

“Sil….?”

A clear, bell-like voice Silco never thought he’d hear again rang out in the room as the woman spoke. He didn’t feel his grip on the knife loosen, but some part of his brain registered the sound of it clattering to the floor. The sound echoed in his head as the woman closed her eyes and shook her head slightly as if to dispel a vision.

She opened her eyes once more, and a single tear slid down her cheek, trailing a clean line to contrast the blood and grime caked on her face. Her exhaustion seemed to catch her all at once, and she crumpled in the chair. She fell to the side, but her hands were still bound, so the chair fell with her.

Silco was out of his own seat and around the desk before he knew it, but Sevika was faster. She caught the edge of the chair and hauled it back upright, bringing the woman back with it in one strong pull.

Her head lolled to the side, seemingly lifeless, and Silco felt his world stop a second time. Sevika reached over and checked her wrist for a pulse, still not daring to put her hands near her mouth or head.

“Faint, but still there.”

“Singed. Now.” Silco croaked, barely managing to get the words out. They felt stuck in his throat, and the world was swimming. “Whatever he has to do.”

She nodded brusquely and slashed the bonds that tied the woman’s wrists together. In a fluid motion, she scooped the bloody woman into her arms and rushed out the door, slamming it behind her.

Silco fell to his knees in front of the chair.

She left. She’s back… but she left. She left me. She left me alone….

He wished he could rip out his heart; make this pain finally stop. Of all the cruel tricks the universe had played on him, this one was by far the most painful. A thin, barely noticeable stream of tears fell from his closed eye as the ruined one blankly stared at the chair she had just inhabited.

Selene.

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