#Silco header

[uraveragelonelyhuman]

Arcane pet headcannons

VI

She has a bulldog and a ratty ass Chihuahua

Dumbass named the Chihuahua something dumb like "Sniffles"

Bulldog is probably "JJ"

You would think the bulldog was the guard dog

Ha, you're wrong

The Chihuahua when you get even a MILLIMETER close to Vi, its biting your fucking ankles

Better run because bitch is CHASING you down

It's like it downed a entire red bull, monster and starbucks venti latte with 19 shots of espresso in 0.1 seconds

Pray bitch

Cause you are not making it out alive

See ya in hell

The bulldog is just as scared of it too

Cowering behind Vi

Chihuahua made its territory known and not backing down

Probably dislikes and likes Cait all at once

Tiny mother fucker is bipolar as shit

Makes a weird face like its sniffing Vi's horrendous farts every 3 seconds

The bulldog is a sweetheart

Would never hurt anyone

Loves cuddling

Is the definition of lap dog because it doesn't leave Vi alone

Will fall asleep anywhere and at any time

Has fallen asleep on the Chihuahua multiple times

Probably stole Caitlyn's pomeranian

Loved it too much not too

Cait isn't getting it back

Walking through the lanes with the dogs who have sunglasses on all at once

Cool dog mom 10/10

EKKO

He has a snake

Probably a ball python

Takes amazing care of it

Most of the time is holding it

And by holding it I mean bitch is wrapping itself around his neck

Not enough to choke amazing Ekko out, don't worry

He good, he good

Loves scaring people with it though

Chases Scar around the hideout with it

"Wanna touch it? C'mon! He likes you~"

"Ekko, I will murder you-"

Scar loves it, can you tell?

One time was interrogating someone at the hideout for info on Silco's operation and out of nowhere the goon started SCREAMING

Bro was confused until he saw his snake slithering down the goons stomach all calm

Goon immediately wanted the snake off of him and gave all the info needed

So now Ekko, when interrogating someone, usually has his snake doing his little thang for a good luck charm

It brings the good tension and intimidation needed

A little dance every now and then

The snake loves the tree

Climbs it everyday

Snake loves him 100/10

The best snake owner known to man

The kids like watching his snake

How he distracts the annoying little shits

VIKTOR

He has a mouse

Probably liked them so much because in the lanes he saw a lot of them

Probably started an army

Little Viktor walking around the lanes with thousands of em swarming behind him

Probably all on drugs

When he left the lanes he probably found one in Piltover

Gave him some nostalgia so he took it

Gave it some food and restored it's health so the little mouse trusted him

Now when he's working on a little device the mouse is most likely on his shoulder

Sometimes just chilling, eating some food but sometimes wants to be involved

Viktor made him his own lab goggles

You've never lived until you've seen this man all focused and shit, his mouse on his shoulder as they both stare intently down at his gadget

1000/10 talks back to the mouse

*Squeak*

"I should do that, Mousecateir."

"Viktor...what the fuck-"

Jayce has walked in on his conversations with the mouse

Stood there for a good 20 seconds before high tailing it out of there

Booked a therapy appointment and definitely snitched to Mel

Viktor has lost it

Made a dam army suit for his mouse

They shall rule the world

SEVIKA

Has a hamster

But this ain't no normal hamster, no, no

This hamster is CLINGING to its last cells of life

Bro regenerates with every breath he takes

Sevika just won't let the little shit go

Even if she tried

Little man refuses to give up

Well past its expiration date

She doesn't even remember when she got it

That's how old the shit ball is

Thinks it dies at least 10 times a day

Freaks out every time but the hamster wakes up every damn time

Y'know how moms wake up when you barely poke them?

Like that.

Like it just got back from WAR and has PTSD

Eyes wide and shaking

Sevika honestly doesn't know what to do

Probably hasn't even drunk any water in well over a year

Or food

Living off the mere urge to live past its comrades in the walls

Jinx loves it though

Loves terrorizing it

Not on purpose

Probably is the reason all its hairs are graying

Probably loses its hair and is now bald

Looks like a shaved ball sack ngl

Man can't even walk no more

Sevika once turned to fast and this little mf went flying at the wall

AND STILL SURVIVED

Sevika found it two days later

"Oh my god, just give up already."

*aggressive squeaking*

"Okay, geez." 

Probably will outlive Sevika and society

SILCO

Has a hairless cat

And a crusty white grandma dog

Dog is probably as old as him

Shaking with every step

Can't even walk properly now

The cat just sits there most of the time

Usually just staring at the ones in his office till they leave

Gets along with the dog surprisingly

Jinx probably got him the cat as a surprise

Told her to get rid of it

But as every prophecy foretold, he ended up loving the creature 

Feeds it better than anyone

Of course other than Jinx

Loves his animals

The dog is crusty af though

Has been sitting with Jinx the past few years

Help it, please

Probably has had its hair dyed a few times

Scared of Jinx 100/100

Dog will never die

Cat sits on it's back

Took its dog bed

Dog took its cat bed

Love them both

The cat always sits in the rafters with Jinx

Brings her things she forgot

Steals her stuff too

Also sits on Silco's head

Has fallen onto his head from the rafters

Looks unbothered but was screaming inside

JINX

Has a bird

And a black cat

She took the bird, which is a crow, because she got tired of it squawking

So she just plucked it from the arcade after she saw it staring, wide beaked at her after she shot its mother

Has a pretty cage set up for it

Makes little outfits for it and her cat everyday and all day

It sits on her head all the time, like Silco's cat

She talks to the bird all the time, the bird talks back

She's argues with it everyday

Silco has become worried

Talks to it more than the voices

Bird does it on purpose because it knows she doesn't like the voices

Has sometimes pecked at her forehead but it's alright

Threatens to cook and eat it on a daily basis

Bird calls her bullshit

Has pulled on her braids a lot when mad at her

Then flies away when she tried to swat at it

A love hate relationship really

The black cat is because she once heard black cats bring back luck

And she's a jinx so she thought it was a match made in heaven

She found it in the back alley of the last drop

Immediately took it

Didn't care if it had an owner, hers now

She called dibs

Definitely has it on her lab when making bombs and gadgets

She loves it when the cat purrs, it's like a little engine

Names it Whisker, no argument

I will not be hearing anyone out

Names the bird chicken leg

Or barbeque

The bird doesn't like it but she don't care

Barbeque and Whisker hate each other

Has to keep them separate at all times

Or she puts them in time out

Which is usually just her faking them at each other as she makes them apologize

Loves her animals though

Even if they are little shits

#arcane x reader #arcane headcanon #arcane headers #arcane gif #arcane sevika #sevika fluff #sevika arcane #arcane viktor #viktor arcane headcanons #arcane jinx #jinx arcane #arcane ekko #ekko arcane #arcane silco #silco arcane

[lullabyes22-blog]

What do you think of Sevika and Silco?

I love them unabashedly. On their own, or together, in a million different dynamics and scenarios.

I love the idea of Silco and Sevika as these brutally symbiotic predators who trade power and prestige through their mutual association, and only have eyes for Zaun.

I love the idea of them as the gay version of the Heterosexual Life Partners trope, where Sil likes only men and Sev likes only women, and they basically sit in his office in the evenings and are gossipy bitches together.

I love the idea of them as depraved bisexuals with similar tastes, and one of Sevika’s job perks is to sample a new boy/girl in the brothels and then pass on the debauched performance review to her boss. 

I love the idea of them having a no-nonsense war buddies dynamic, where they have each other's backs but don't need to say more than five words to each other on the daily.

I love the idea of them as a dysfunctional found family with Jinx, where Silco is the overindulgent workaholic dad and Sevika is the frazzled and fed-up mom.

I love the idea of them having an FMA Riza/Roy dynamic, where Sevika has carried a torch for him for years, and kept it to herself out of duty and common sense, because Zaun matters more than her personal sentiments.

In short, I love these two awful people in any iteration<3

#arcane #arcane netflix #arcane league of legends #silco arcane #sevika arcane #arcane headers #silco #sevika

[huntershowl]

@heartsetting​ | okay. i’ll play.

THIS IS PERSEPHONE’S SECOND BOTTLE OF WHISKEY, and the shakes still haven’t completely gone. she subdues them well enough –– instead of shivers wracking her body, they’re suppressed to an impatient leg-bounce under the desk, like she’s ready for a fight. and, really, that’s always true. it doesn’t help that they’ve only just started their discussion and she already wants to deck silco across the face.

❝ want to say that again? ❞ it’s a loaded question, a warning, full of barely bitten-back aggression. interacting with others fresh from a kill is extremely uncommon for hellhound; normally, she isolates herself, letting the shakes wear off and drinking until she passes out. but this is different. regrettably, tonight, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go.

#>> IN. #heartsetting #>> KING OF IRON; KING OF STEEL. ( heartsetting | silco ) #{ hehe. here u go. the thing we were talking about } #{ i left it pretty open bc idk the exact nature of silco's asshole comment } #{ also header quote from my fav villain scene in the owl house :') }

[moriahwritez]

For Jinx simps out there, would you like a request of a story for her? (Comment down below)- Btw I would not accept any smut stuff of her…

Ones posted already! (Check it out)

(Anyone wanna read this which was @celiciasants and @enbydykeism )

#arcane #jinx arcane #jinx #arcane jinx #jinx x reader #request #arcane fanfiction #arcane fanfic

[insult-2-injury]

The Politics of Power - Chapter 3

Modern AU - Prof!Silco x GradStudentReader

The enigmatic Professor Silco takes you in as his student assistant. It's only one semester, just how hard could it be?

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | AO3 Link |

3.8k | Reader Insert | Eventual Smut | Slow Burn | Romance | Student/Teacher Relationship

Header by the wonderfully talented @pomegranatebat :)

Chapter 3

It had been three weeks.

You knew going in that the semester would be taxing, Professor Silco’s busy work in addition to your already immoderate classwork a challenge in itself.

You graded essays, tests, managed to teach a couple of his classes, met with students; everything you’d agreed to do over your numerous email correspondences and had been reaffirmed of on that first day.

You had been right, he was cantankerous; not old in age as much as old in manner, the stubborn refusal to adapt fully to the digital era spelled out in the piles of papers he laid on your desk each day to be graded by hand. The man owned a pricy laptop and was perfectly competent, could no doubt figure out how to move online if he so desired. He just didn’t want to.

It was who he was, you realized. A man who rejected change as if his very sanity depended on bowling through every expectation of him, flush with some rare sort of fire-eyed determination. Looked all the more as if he would burn the world over twice if it meant proving he was right.

And to the utmost misfortune of all those around him, he usually was.

Strange how you’d found you couldn’t get enough of it - something deliciously irate clawing wildly across the heated lining of your belly whenever that intelligence of his showed face. Whenever that tiny, sinister curl of his lips betrayed him, warning of an incoming putdown.

And he loved to put people in their place.

He rarely struck first but always had people marked, you’d noticed; was a cobra coiled delicately in the brush, waiting for his target to circle too close before he skewered into the only patch of exposed skin with precision and speed.

You he seemed to enjoy messing with most of all. You were certain, too, with your impregnable intuition that it had something, if not everything, to do with Vander. And if Vander and him were on the outs, then there was a chance he didn’t believe Vander wrote that glowing recommendation letter for you. So why had he hired you?

Not only that, but it was also the atypical errands you were running in conjunction with the usual work that had you speculating on whether or not he was punishing you, issuing you pointless tasks to waste what little time you had to yourself.

Once he’d had you pick up books for him at the library, a pain as the building was on the opposite side of campus. He had barely looked up when you’d piled them at the corner of his office desk, and you’d watched from your nook in the corner as they sat untouched, gathering a thin layer of dust before he bid you return them, unread. He’d had you draw out a lesson plan in detail only to scrap it last minute. Not to mention the two times he’d sent you down to the mail room to retrieve some expected parcel and you’d return empty-handed and sour, and he would chalk it up to simple oversight.

“Oh, don’t look so cross. I must have already grabbed it today, scatterbrained as I am. Simple mistake.”

But Professor Silco didn’t make mistakes.

Such small things were just innocent enough to pass over the head of a general observer, or perhaps to ascribe to a bout of forgetfulness. But out of a childhood of quiet instability grew a strong intuition, and you caught onto his scent quick.

It was late Friday, nearing the time that he’d normally force you to pack up, send you home for the weekend with a clipped word or two and a curt nod of his head. Your frustration felt a living, breathing thing today, prowling back and forth across your chest like a snarling tiger in captivity. A stack of ungraded essays sat before you, but it was hardly what you were focusing on.

Casual Friday. He wore a crisp black linen shirt, fitted snugly to his wiry frame, buttons fastened to the very top, only a slice of collarbone showing. The gold-cuffed sleeves were rolled up to his forearms as he worked. He wore pants of the same color; tailored herringbone trousers cut off just above the ankle, held at his waist by a black belt with a large, gold buckle. Glossy wingtip oxfords adorned his feet, which were crossed at the ankles.

His gaze darted up from above the hard brim of his glasses to snare your own and you stiffened, hotblooded embarrassment blooming in your chest as you swiftly looked away, hair falling blessedly to cover your expression.

It certainly wasn’t the first time you’d been caught.

Maddeningly, you’d found you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes off him for more than a few minutes, your gaze tracking unwittingly upward like clockwork, as if you and your fixation were attached to some sort of hypnotic pulley system.

Your phone buzzed and you hesitated before opening a text from your mom.

No hello. No how are you. Just a link guiding you to the University of Piltover’s Law School and a text.

Never too late to be a Piltie :)

Involuntarily, your hand clutched around the phone.

You felt the familiar sting, despite knowing there would be no payoff in attempting to please a mother who had never been satisfied with anything in her life. You could do just as she said: attend law school, become an affluent lawyer, but it still wouldn’t be enough. She would want you to be better. And there was always something better.

A prickling awareness hoisted you up from your internal strife and back into reality, your eyes ticking up from the pile of ungraded essays.

How could one ever get used to the shock of meeting that mismatched gaze? Invisible fingers gripped a tight fist of your lower abdomen.

“Yes?”

“You’re tapping your pen.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d scolded you on the matter – your aggravating little habits. Tapping your nails, bouncing your knee, chewing on your pen. Jitters only heightened by the presence of the other occupant of the room.

You turned back around, silent, unapologetic. Another minute passed.

“You’re drumming your nails.”

You hummed the affirmative.

“What has you distressed?”

“I’m not distressed.”

“You’re vibrating.”

“I’m breathing,” you said, becoming mildly annoyed by his persistence. You rolled your shoulders back. “Must have made the coffee strong today or something.”

The following long pause had your gaze flicking up once again to meet his narrowing one.

“So it was you then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the brute who wreaked havoc in the break room this morning?”

You blinked.

“If by ‘wreaking havoc’ you mean I made coffee, then yes.”

Professor Silco exhaled, falling back into the soft plush of his desk chair, fingers propping at his temple, as if he’d been thoroughly defeated, teal eye fluttering closed briefly.

“There I was wishing on the culprit an untimely demise,” he sighed, “And it was my own TA.”

“I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“You do realize coffee is supposed to be a liquid, yes?”

“No one else seemed to have a problem with it,” you defended, but he remained unbothered, plucking the wire, rectangular frames off his face and taking his precious time searching the drawer beside for a cloth to clean them with.

“That’s because no one else was permitted the misfortune of tasting it after me.”

“You tossed the coffee I made for everyone?”

Professor Silco regarded you impassively beneath hooded lids, fingers languidly stroking the glass.

“And no doubt saved lives in the process.”

You scowled. “I’m not a barista.”

He adjusted the readers back on the bridge of his nose. “And thank goodness for that. Keep trying and you’ll make me a hero yet.”

There was something darkly amused twinkling in his eyes as he observed the annoyance tugging at the creases of your lips. But instead of allowing the moment to fade, he held it tight, and for each passing second, something pulled tauter between you as your own focus strayed, trailing to the long index finger ticking a light rhythm against his lower jaw.

Vander would be so disappointed in the way you held your tongue. Or would he? The man was a walking contradiction when it came to these things.

He loved to chant things like “Fortune favors the bold,” but the moment you dared shed that cloak of reticence and put a voice to that little flame in the pit of your stomach, you’d receive a look quite puzzling to you - one you thought spoke of an almost haunting, fearful recognition, as if for a blink of an eye he saw a ghost.

So, you just needed to keep your lid on and respect Vander for all he was - a brilliant professor and a good man, yet short-sighted.

Professor Silco shifted in his seat, crossing his legs. You thought, if it were possible, you could reach out and strum that humming connection in the air between the two of you.

You broke first, turning back to the subpar at best essay you’d been grading about the politics of warfare. And as the tension died, your thoughts drifted back to your mother.

Why couldn’t you be enough --No. You couldn’t afford to think that way. How could you ever be enough for a mother whose idea of success was an archaic set of rules, so rigid and stale, impossible to achieve.

You gnawed at the top of your pen as you stared out at the spined ridge of the Humanities building, etched with an eerie beauty against the backdrop of dusk.

Vander had so wanted you to follow in his sizeable footsteps; to mentor under him, become his little understudy. Take up that golden baton with his stamped seal of approval and climb the tallest mountain with it. He was trying. He knew where you came from. But he had his own visions for you and it was starting to feel like everyone had a pretty solid idea as to who you should be except for you.

“Do you plan on finishing tonight?” Professor Silco asked. “Or will I be forced to stay late once more on account of your musing.”

Your nose twitched in irritation as you stared out the window, contemplative before turning to him, the haughty way in which he regarded you down his nose enough to make your decision.

“Sorry, sir,” you said evenly, “I’ll be finished shortly.”

You got to work and didn’t look up until you were finished, until you’d offered nearly every student an extremely generous A.

Whatever game he was playing - if he wanted to clash at every turn, so be it.

~~~

The following Monday, you sat at your first department meeting staring so intently at the bulleted agenda in front of you that the dots began to blur together. You’d already given your little introduction speech, sighing internally when one of the more chipper professors insisted you simplify your existence down to your favorite extracurriculars and your favorite dessert.

Your gaze rose, the pen dangling in your fingers finding an absentminded home between your teeth as you watched Professor Silco lead the meeting, admiring his prowess. He wasn’t the type to open up the room, wasn’t a fan of your more Laissez-Faire approach of things.

No, he’d taken brutal hostage of the space as soon as he’d entered it, just as he always did in the classroom, a subtle but palpable hush falling as he’d prowled in like a lion on the hunt, lanky and unhurried, carrying with him a briefcase and a chilled breeze in his wake. He was in complete control at any given moment, his shoulders so taut it seemed a gale force wind couldn’t shake him. Cutting and often dismissive, but with a peculiar stroke of charisma and unmistakable competence that oddly softened the blow of his incivility.

He liked, no needed to be at the helm, that much was a given. He was stingy with his praise but positively reinforced just enough to make those below him covet those rare moments of graciousness. He was a master, a savant at wielding power to its highest effect.

And you couldn’t get enough of it, the thought of that vie for dominance sending a shock of heat slithering between your legs.

Only when he caught your eye did you realize the bite force you were impressing upon the poor pen in your mouth and you let up, tongue poking out distractedly against the top, expecting his gaze to float on. But it hung there for a moment too long, dropping to your lips almost imperceptibly before flickering away and immediately stealing another glance as he continued to speak, never breaking.

That terrible pull you felt to him - did he feel it, too?

Something dark and impulsive sunk its claws into your animal brain and delicately you pressed your lips to the side of the pen, almost as if in thought. His gaze immediately found your lips again and with a careful inexpression, you darted your tongue out lightning quick, licking a short stripe upward. Your thighs clenched just as his jaw did. And you wondered if you were the only one who heard that slight waver in his tone.

You whipped your head back to the paper in front of you, feeling dizzy suddenly as he started to close out the meeting, but the chime of your name had you jolting to attention minutes later. You stared wide-eyed at Professor Silco.

“I know you requested floor time at the end.”

You most certainly had not. You froze as chairs creaked and the full attention of the room turned upon you.

“Me?” you said stupidly, feeling a blush track across your cheeks. He allowed the moronic question to marinate in the hushed room.

“I just-“ you said, mind frantically throwing out nets to gather your wits. “Yes. I just wanted to say…” Professor Silco’s lip jerked cruelly. “Sorry- sorry, I’m not quite used to being on this side of things yet.” There was murmured laughter and you plastered what you hoped was a sheepish grin on your face. “All I wanted to say was thank you for allowing me to join you this semester. And Professor Silco,” you motioned to him, “I really appreciate the time you’ve taken thus far to accommodate me. I’m more than excited to work alongside every one of you. Thank you.”

What a load of crock, and you couldn’t appear more of a bootlicker if you tried, but it seemed to elicit a positive response.

Everybody filtering out slowly, Professor Silco scrutinized you quietly from the head of the table as you packed up, like you were some rare creature yet to be captured and studied. You stumbled in your haste to the door; grateful he didn’t call you back.

~~~

Fuck.

That had been so reckless to tempt the hands of fate like that. It was hardly anything, what you’d done; he could just as easily have not seen it at all, that brazen little tongue flick, his reaction just a making of your own imagination. And if he had seen it, well, it was nothing more than another one of your silly habits, chewing pens. But oh, had you felt it, and the feeling lingered yet, the dizzying headiness of that second glance, the tight, telling clench of his jaw.

You wanted to toy with that slice of power - couldn’t stop thinking about the way he commanded the room, how his fingers danced through the air like leaves on a breeze. His snakelike retaliation, your forced counterattack.

It had you squirming in your tiny office hours chair that day, the ache between your legs pulsing and persistent, no students showing face to offer any semblance of a distraction. Probably your own fault, tossing all those A’s out like free candy.

Office hours came to an end and you sat for a while longer, fingers tapping an impatient rhythm into the dappled desk as you contemplated.

How were you going to manage for an entire semester?

By dealing with it, sweaty and shamefaced in the privacy of your own apartment, that was how. Sighing, you made your way out of your office and down the hallway to Professor Silco’s.

Entering quietly, you hardly spared him a glance, taking a seat at your little desk and reaching for your paper tray, hand stilling when you found it empty.

“I’d hazard you’re looking for these,” Professor Silco said, lazily lifting the stack of ungraded essays. You swallowed the dryness from your throat before turning politely, fingers clasping in your lap to calm the nervous bounce of your leg. “I can give them to you.” He stood, grabbing the separate graded pile you’d laid on his desk last Friday in the other hand, giving you a pointed look. “Granted we brush up on the rubric again.”

A lazy saunter toward you might as well have been a sudden dead sprint with the paralyzing alarm you felt as he neared. A tall shadow fell across your seat and you became keenly aware of just how damp the fabric between your thighs really was and you crossed your legs, face heating as if you’d been entirely on display.

“I fear, despite our numerous correspondences predating your arrival here, you’ve already stopped pulling your fair share.” Your hands grew clammy, heart a clanging steel drum. “Did you not read these at all or have you always been so charitable?” You craned your neck up at him, hands dropping to frame the outsides of your thighs, mooring yourself. His eyebrow quirked. “A’s for everyone.”

“Not all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right. The long-winded atonement essay apologizing for not having had the time to complete said essay you gave a B+.”

Your eyes darted between his, trying to get a read. “I thought they all did a decent job.”

“Lies.” You opened your mouth in retort. “And I think you know that,” he purred and you nearly pitched forward from the shiver that danced coolly down your spine. “How is anyone supposed to hone their critical thinking skills when they’re rewarded for such drivel.”

“It was the first essay of the semester.”

“So you were doing them a favor?” You pressed your lips together. “Did you even read these?” He tossed both stacks of papers onto your desk.

“Yes.”

“I know. I saw.”

You studied him carefully. Then why accost you? “I’ll do better,” you murmured, gingerly taking the stack of papers.

“Speak up,” he commanded with a sharp tone, and you shot him a vicious glare.

“I hope you’re not cross with me,” you said before you could put a halt to your rashness, rearranging his own words steadily back to him, “Scatterbrained as I am, simple mistake.”

The irate furrow of his brow contradicted the tilt of his scarred lips, and for just a blink of a moment he looked terribly wicked as his features darkened.

His voice grew deceptively quiet. “I believe you dropped something earlier.”

He reached into his pants pocket and your eyes widened as he revealed the pen. You must have dropped it in your haste to leave earlier. Unwarranted confidence cracking, you went to go snatch it from his hands with a muttered thanks but he held tight, stepping forward until the narrowed toes of his oxfords were inches from your boots.

You were stock still, focus falling to the laces of his shoes before dragging back up to meet his shrewd gaze above you, his eyes glittering as bright and sharp as swords. He was so close – close enough you could stretch out your arm to run it across that shining brass buckle.

“Let go,” he coaxed, your tight-knuckled grip loosening on the pen until your hand hovered uselessly in the air. He offered you a tiny smirk of amusement.

“You know your Gods and monsters. Tell me, do you know of Proteus?”

Your free hand dropped to dig its fingers into your knee. Old man of the sea. Yes, yes of course you did, but you couldn’t free the words from your throat, trying in vain to speak as your jaw worked. You nearly choked when the pen in his hand found a starting point at the hinge of your jaw before dragging down the soft curve, descending beneath your chin to lever it upward in a slow nod.

“Smart girl, of course you do.”

A sharp burst of an exhale at the unexpected praise and he slid the pen across the smooth, sensitive curve of your jawbone – up to tickle beneath your earlobe then down to the point of your chin, swapping sides.

“Proteus’ power came from his ability to change shape at will, to be precisely what a moment required him to be. He knew all – past, present, future. The answers to life’s most poignant questions. Yet he answered to no one. Why is that?”

The capped pen traveled upward to settle briefly into the divot between your chin and bottom lip as he waited patiently for an answer, regarding you as a hawk would a mouse in the grass.

You worked your jaw, waiting for your throat to unstick before you spoke. “You had to capture him first.”

He hummed approvingly. “A difficult conquest. Whenever anyone would attempt to seize him, he could simply change form. Lion, butterfly, a serpent, he could become water to elude grasp. He was wise – knew which form to take in order to fool.”

You gazed up at him, utterly lost within the low timbre of his voice, every satin word slithering down to the growing, aching wetness between your thighs.

“Unless," he continued, "As you said, you captured him. Held him fast.” Your eyes fluttered as he slid the pen up to move around the border of your lips as he went on, tracing the two mountain peaks of your cupids bow lightly before swooping an arc around the bottom.

“If anyone succeeded, and only one ever did - he’d grant them profound insight, answer any questions they asked of him. Even the simplest of truths.”  The pen slid up to press against the plushness of your lips in the same gesture you’d performed earlier, effectively shushing you.

“Tell me. Who was it that wrote that letter?”

You dug your fingers painfully into your knee, mouth unconsciously parting against the pen as your eyes darted between his, the accusation fully in the open. And you weren't normally one to fight when the tides had turned so clearly against you, but a wicked excitement was growing steadily, a snaking suspicion gaining tread as his eyes glittered dangerously down on you from above. That he was enjoying this little game of yours.

So, with a tiny quirk of your lips, you finally answered.

“Vander.”

<3

Everyone PLEASE go check out this amazing art of Professor Silco that my darling @deny-the-issue did for this fic. I am losing my absolute marbles over it and they are so incredibly talented. Give them all the love! Fellow ratfolk, I hope you enjoyed! This chapter was a grueling one to write so please, if you feel so inclined - reblog, like, leave a comment or some nice tags. It really does mean the world to know people are enjoying.

Thank you to my wonderful beta readers @sherwood-forests and @x-amount-verbs for talking me through my anxieties surrounding this chapter and for the numerous others who put up with my chaos. I love you all so much and couldn't be more grateful for you.

Yours Truly, Sulty

Click here to be added to taglist!

@steponmesilco @truthandadare @silcoitus @pomegranatebat @rosegirl73 @givemebeansnow @soullessbody @yudunnomelmao @suelemrhoden @artwithvivien @silcossugarbabyy @tweek-tweak22 @lunaoticworld @deny-the-issue @gobletoffables @dogantlers @skidebapp @mazikomo @x-amount-verbs @sweatandwoe

#TPOP #the politics of power #silco #silco arcane #silco x reader #arcane #silco x you #reader insert #vander

[astudyincontrasts]

Original concept and header art by @aromansoul

Boxer!Silco AU Masterlist of cooperative works by various artists and writers, subject to change and additions.

Round One By @astudyincontrasts Art By @aromansoul

Round Two By @astudyincontrasts Art By @aromansoul

Zaun Underground Champion 1/2/(3) By @x-amount-verbs

For the Sake of a Fight By @mazikomo

Till I’m Laughing Alone PART 1/5 By @silcosentropy

Till I’m Laughing Alone PART 2/5 By @silcosentropy

Till I’m Laughing Alone PART 3/5 By @silcosentropy

Zaun Undergound Champion By @aromansoul

Didn’t Make the Cut By @aromansoul

Boxer Silco By @aromansoul

Yordle Yeet By @aromansoul

Boxer Silco By @deny-the-issue

Bonus: Moodboard I // Moodboard II

If you make art or writing for this AU and would like to be added to the list please DM me!

#silco #arcane #boxer silco #boxer!silco #silco au #arcane au #arcane fic #arcane fanart #silco fic #silco fanart #collaborative works

[conretewings]

Better Left Said (Vander x OC) NSF/W

-Oh hi yes *nervous laugh* Enjoy this random and utterly self-indulgent idea. Featuring younger (early twenties) versions of Vander, Silco and Benzo in the days of building The Lanes as well as Rosemary, who works at both her family's repair business and as a singer at bars and clubs. Lots of banter and spicy flirting. EDIT: Header image by the wonderful @thefutonhermit

-Vander x OC. Alcohol and smoking. Very suggestive content. 18+ only please

"What?" asked Silco, leaning closer to Vander, "I don't remember anything about chips."

Vander pinched his brow and sighed, "No, I said 'shipments'-maybe this wasn't the best place to meet up today..."

Friday nights were always crowded and noisy at Iron Bear, one of the group's favorite taverns. The owners knew them and knew their...illicit business, but didn't care so long as they brought in more coin than trouble. Vander, Silco and Benzo had their usual corner booth, paperwork spread on the table and discreetly arranged so no prying eyes could see the contents. Trying to build a black market empire was a complicated and dangerous affair, but they knew if successful it would be a boon to the Undercity's people...and a critical step toward their ultimate goal.

Benzo cleared his throat, reached forward and ran his finger over a list of figures on one of the pages, "Everythin' looks ta be in order. Those crates of gunpowder and-"

A loud whooping and whistling interrupted him as the three young men quickly hid their papers a little more, then looked up to see the object of the hullabaloo; a woman picked through the crowd, dark chocolate curls bouncing-along with other assets-her denim jacket doing little to cover her low-cut silken green dress that caught the light and cast an almost ethereal halo around her.

Vander found himself staring, an increasingly all-too-familiar warmth blooming in his chest and time seemed to slow as he watched her, all radiant smiles and quick, graceful movements, her curves flawlessly framed by her dress. They'd been friends for a few years now, but more and more he'd been finding himself looking at her through a different lens, one that made his heartbeat kick up a notch or sometimes embarrassingly, other parts very excited.

He gaped stupidly, mouth hung slightly open and Benzo smugly grinned at his friend, who composed himself upon noticing with a growled 'shut it'.

The woman rolled her eyes playfully or laughed with various patrons as she weaved her way to their table and plopped herself next to Benzo with a dramatic exhale, threading her arms through one of his.

"Wooo! I made it!" she beamed at them, hazel eyes bright and full of mischief as she smoothly purred in a well practiced, upper-class lilt, "Hello gentlemen. What must a lady do to get a drink around here?"

"Go order one." replied Silco with a smirk, taking a swig of his own ale.

"Hey Rosemary!" Vander and Benzo greeted in unison, grinning as she stood and rounded the table to lean over and hug Silco around his shoulders from behind.

"Oh, don't be like that Silcy I've missed you lads!" she pouted with mock hurt, snorting as he twisted to glower at her and push her off.

"I told you not to call me that!" he hissed, and this time she raised her hands, "Sorry, sorry. Well now we're even for that comment a moment ago eh?"

Silco shot her a sour look but quickly smiled again and gave an affirming tip of the head. Vander waved a hand to one of the staff, who nodded and went to grab another round, then turned to her as she sat back down, working to ignore the ample bit of visible cleavage, "Haven't seen ya in what? Almost a week? What you been up to Rosie?"

"Rumor has it you been gettin' pretty popular topside." added Benzo.

Rosemary ran a hand through her hair, the bubbly energy starting to fade along with the more 'upper crust' accent she'd been using, "Really now? Well, we got two trucks 'n several smaller projects at the shop ta finish, I've got two-wait...no, bloody hell three gigs comin' up. Tellin' ya the coin is fantastic but they run me ragged sometimes."

"Speaking of, I assume you came straight here from a performance? I couldn't help but notice the dress. Very stylish." Silco cut in.

"Thank ya! Aye, this lil' jazz club along the docks," Rosemary nodded, then bit her lip, "It ain't too much is it?"

"No." all three quickly replied, Vander's face flushed red as his eyes darted away awkwardly and she couldn't hold her brief, coy grin; so she wasn't imagining things. Not being blind nor stupid, she'd been noticing more lately how his gaze would linger on her when he thought she wasn't paying attention, or how he'd react to things she said, those silver-blue eyes holding hints of things that made her core burn and coil in delicious torment. She'd be lying if she denied the thought of being with him-in one form or another-hadn't crossed her daydreams more than once. Maybe tonight she'd work up the courage to say something.

Her gaze flicked to the papers in front of them and lowered her voice, "But enough 'bout me. How's things 'ere?"

There was a pause and muttered thanks as the waiter dropped off their drinks, then Silco leaned in, a cue for them all to follow suit and cracked a wicked smile, bottle-green eyes sharp as the knife he kept on his hip, "Plans have been going splendidly. I feel it's finally safe to say we're making headway..."

-"Come ooooon boys one more round!" cried Rosemary joyfully, her face flushed and beer tankard almost sloshing onto the table as she raised it too fast.

"Oi watch it don't be wastin'-hic-good ale!" Vander huffed with a laugh and a hiccup while Silco rolled his eyes and took a more measured sip of his whiskey as the pair continued to banter.

It was a couple hours-and drinks-later and the group had hashed out a plan for the next few weeks, Rosemary volunteering as always to glean what information she could regarding the movement of goods in and out of Piltover from her more loose-lipped audience members. Business being wrapped up as much as possible for the moment, the group concluded since it was the weekend, a bit of inebriation, chatter and comradery were in order.

"Good ale?! If I wanted that I'd 'a gone somewheres else than this leaky bucket! Only reason I come 'ere is for you lot!" she snickered.

"It's not bad!" Benzo knocked back some more then licked his lips thoughtfully with a shrug, "Ah've had worse."

"Oh I see how it is!" Vander huffed, crossing his thick arms dramatically, "She's gettin' too good for us!"

"Oh Van!" she reached across Benzo and patted his shoulder, giving him a wink and a very good show of that cleavage, "You'll always be perfect for me!"

Vander paused, mouth half open with the smart rebuttal he'd had catching in his throat; something deeply sincere in her green-flecked eyes and gentle smile shot right through to his heart. There it was again, that sweetly torturous heat rising to his chest and spreading outward, and he fumbled for a response until he gave up and simply gave a short bark of a laugh and eyeroll, "Yeah yeah..."

An employee, apparently having overheard Rosemary's outburst and all too happy to oblige, appeared with four more mugs, three of the four being snatched up almost as soon as they were set down. A few moments later a man approached and Benzo did a double-take.

"Rocky! What can I do ya for mate?" he asked cheerfully.

"'Ey Benzo! Wanted to thank you for helpin' me get ahold of the thing I needed. You uh, got any more deals?"

"I might, I might. Why don't we step out for a sec? Hard to hear in here," Benzo stood, Rosemary having to scoot out to let him by, and pointed sternly at his drink as he turned to go, "This better be full when I get back!"

Vander flipped him off with a sarcastic smile and Rosemary gasped in mock disbelief, Silco raising an eyebrow and smirking before going back to the paper in front of him. Rosemary then gulped a bit of her ale, head already swimming pleasantly and body fuzzy-when she realized abruptly there was now nothing between her and Vander but air. She glanced sideways at him, he and Silco studying a couple of the pages and mumbling inaudibly between each other.

She watched him slyly, admiring his handsome face, the scruff growing into a short beard, how his eyebrows would knit together adorably whenever he was concentrating, those gorgeous steel-blue eyes she could lost in, his thick brown hair that just begged for her fingers to run through it, those lips that looked so soft and kissable, how those large hands could hold her so snugly and-shit. She felt the heat rise up her neck to her face; she really was in it.

Vander must have sensed her eyes on him, as he glanced in her direction briefly, doing a brief double-take, brow wrinkled lightly in curiosity.

Then he smiled softly, that goddamn, devilishly charming smile, and any semblance or thread of control or doubt holding her back crumbled.

"Can I help ya?" he pondered, sliding himself closer to her.

"Hmmm..." she mirrored him, moving nearer, "I can think of a few things."

"You gonna tell me 'bout them?" he teased, taking a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it and blowing a wisp skyward before turning to face her more.

Rosemary's heart skipped; that half-lidded, inviting smile gave her both pause and courage. Alright then, she mused after only a moment's hesitancy, if he wants to play this game we'll play.

Resting her chin on her fingers and head tilted upward slightly, she gracefully crossed one leg over the other so her foot was against his leg, "Oh Van...I can see right through you. You're all cool 'n suave when ya wannna be but right now you're runnin' quite hot..."

He froze for a second, not only for how her foot was gingerly rubbing against his calf, this simple contact causing more internal havoc than it had any right to, but also from the warmth and-dare he think-desire pooled in her beautiful eyes. They'd coyly 'flirted' many a time before, making a game of tossing sly double entendres and comments to each other, and he had to admit there were times, especially lately, he wouldn't have minded it going further, but abruptly faced with what he realized was her taking that leap caught him off guard.

"A-ah," Vander stammered, the alcohol coursing through his veins doing him no favors, "Am I n-now? Dunno about that. In fact seems you're the one makin' bedroom eyes at me."

She scooted herself to press right up to him now, laying a hand across his wrist and stroking a line up the stiffened muscle of his arm. It was at this moment he realized other things beginning to stiffen and he swore silently.

Finishing the brief, hushed discussion he'd been having with one of his contacts, Silco turned back around-and wrinkled his nose upon realizing they were shamelessly flirting. He grimaced briefly before going back to the paperwork he'd still been studying and resolving to ignore them. If they wanted to flirt and act like horny teens that was their business. He only prayed not to overhear anything too personal.

Forcing down her trembles, buzzed and high off the adrenaline Rosemary tilted her head , "Know what I think? I think deep down, you'd like it to be more 'n just my eyes. I think, you'd like...all of me in the bedroom..." she licked her thumb suggestively and to his continued stunned surprise, wiped a stray smudge of mud off his cheek, "Dirty man..."

His hand was clenched tightly on the table, heart pounding and he definitely had a raging boner now. He swallowed thickly, scrambling for a response that wasn't an incoherent ramble or direct confirmation of her...irritatingly spot-on comments. Another thought creeped into his lust and beer addled mind; was this just the ale talking? Part of the game? Or did she genuinely want him how, as she deduced, he secretly longed for her?

"So ya th-think ya know what's goin' on in my head eh?" he managed, hoping he didn't sound too worked up and smushing out his cigarette with shaking hands.

She winked, "You're not hidin' it too well love. At this point it's a matter of knowin'. Like how I know you're enjoyin' this. Or how you're definitely picturing what I look like under this dress..." she leaned in to purr in his ear, "And I know it'll be my name on your lips when you're strokin' yourself later-"

At this Vander suddenly stood, so fast and forcibly he bumped the table hard enough to wobble it, their drinks nearly spilling. Before anyone could ask he sputtered out, "Gotta piss sorry-" and stalked away, dodging other people and accidentally bumping some in his haste, including Benzo who tried and failed to ask what the rush was.

Benzo returned to the table and sat heavily, jerking his thumb behind him, "Anyone know what that big lug's issue is?"

Threading his fingers together, Silco cocked an eyebrow and hummed, "Perhaps Rosemary would care to give some insight..."

She, in turn, had slid down somewhat in her seat, as if she could hide from the embarrassment and her scarlet face; oh dear. Perhaps that had been too much.

"Fuck." she mumbled.

-It was a few days later, and murky greenish neon light from outside seeped through the thin curtains of Vander's room, casting a perpetual, dim glow. The numerous noises of the city drowned out the low groaning pants of it's namesake occupant, one hand thrown over his eyes as the other pumped his cock. Of all the sinful thoughts swirling in his mind, one kept snapping back into clearer focus; one particular woman straddling him, rocking her hips in rhythm with his as his hands clutched her ass, her chest, wherever he could reach. He bit his lip hard, imagining her flushed cheeks and mouth half-open as she blissfully rode his dick, moaning his name as she reached climax at the same time he did-

"R-Rosemary! Rosie...oh-!" he stuttered out, gripping the sheet and back arching as he came. He lay there, drifting down like a leaf on a gentle breeze, breath ragged but calming, absorbed in the high before he remembered what she'd said.

"...Fuck..." he grumbled.

@vander-affectionate @barbersjoy @immortalbumblebee @catgoblinchelly

@archerofthemists @prwincessqwin-blog @band--psycho

#vander arcane #vander x oc #arcane vander x oc #vander smut #arcane oc #young vander #silco arcane #young silco #arcane benzo #young benzo #arcane fanfic

[itsme-tori]

has anyone ever told u your tumblr header and icon make it look like Mel and Jayce are looking at Silco in disapproval LOL

p.s. i hope the cake making/fic writing is fun! :D

They are investigating him.

P.S. Thank you :D

#ask #juniper-sunny #mel medarda #jayce talis #silco #meljay #arcane #heheheh nice catch

[agenderakali]

This might seem random as hell, bit given your League Of Legends header, I was wondering what your thoughts on the Arcane series as a whole are?

AH damn I forgot to answer this sooner. But yeah, I've played League since 2016 and have always been fixated on the lore. Despite the game neglecting it so much I kept insisting to my friends the lore's really cool ok trust me!! And understandably they did not believe me. I didn't have high hopes for Arcane but I was SOOO pleasantly surprised when it came out. They really knocked it out of the park and I finally felt validated in my hyperfixation. I go back to rewatch it a lot, especially the Ekko vs Jinx fight scene. It's just stunning and makes some otherwise bland League characters much more compelling. I think the only complaint I had about Arcane was just uh... not finding Silco or his design interesting. Also I got rlly frustrated with the Arcane fandom obsessing over Viktor/Jayce/Silco while ignoring the more central female characters + Ekko. Also the way they demonized Mel to an insane degree (hm I wonder why) That isn't the show's fault though, just typical fandom bs.

#Arcane #arcane league of legends #OH another pet peeve was ppl trying to say jinx was canocially confirmed as bi when the writers literally never did that #like there ARE characters in league that are openly bisexual and jinx was never one of them #headcanons are cool I hc her as bi myself #but yeah in canon she has only ever shown interest in men

[x-amount-verbs]

Detachment (4/4)

(A Helping Hand pt 27 - Silco POV)

[previously, Dominance: pt 24’s reverse POV; Discipline: pt 25’s reverse POV; Desire: pt 26’s reverse POV]

[silco x f!reader/oc] [2507 words] [nsfw] [D/s] [sexual content] [glove kink] [sadist!silco] [silco is a fucking bastard]

(series headers via this piece by @dad-dumpster )

Pushing her over the edge is incredibly gratifying— the noises, the way her body bows and writhes, the flood of her release dripping down his wrist as she tries to close her legs, tries to escape the stimulation, and he doesn’t let her.

Silco is fairly sure he’d be this rock hard from only one of them - the sound, the feel, or the sight - but he’s lucky enough to have all three. Which is probably why, as soon as she has suffered through an aftershock - and then another little shivering moan as he pulls out - and is resting against the desk (conscious at first, and then undoubtedly unconscious), he finally lets himself indulge.

At first it’s just her own lubrication on his glove, though he’s quickly leaking his own arousal as well, and soon he fully falls to the temptation. Rough strokes, gaze searing into her, drinking in the reddened marks, the sweat on her brow, the glistening flush of her defiled cunt. That soft way her lips open at rest, making him want to do terrible things.

Eyes sting, burning with how intensely he stares at her, letting his mind replay every moment, every depraved fantasy, made so much better now that he knows how she looks - sounds - smells - tastes— feels, around his hand.

He fumbles for a handkerchief, and groans low in his throat when he instead pulls her underwear, with its damning stain, from his pocket. Something perverse in him only grows more fervent, more desperate to mark his territory, to ruin her without ruining her.

It seems like no time at all before he’s spilling over his fist, into the waiting garment. The briefest thought of giving them back, putting them on her, having her wear them home, covered in the proof that he—

And then reality hits.

Gods. This… this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He’s supposed to be in control of this— He is in control of this, and her— her seduction can’t—

Can’t—

He’s still panting, coming down from the high of orgasm. This is too much, too quickly. He can undo her, but she can’t be allowed to undo him.

Self control. Self restraint.

The shame and disgust as he cleans himself up with her panties is painful. Sick. He can’t behave like this, not in reality, not anywhere outside of his own locked rooms. Well— not anywhere, unless he’s alone.

Suspicious eyes dart to her collapsed form, demandingly, as he rebuttons his trousers. No, she’s still dozing. Utterly destroyed by his hand— as she should be. And utterly unaware of his own self destruction in her name.

Good.

Best she never finds out. Best he gets over this, slows it down, takes his time in setting out a plan if this is to continue. A way that keeps her needing but not needed.

Slow deliberate breaths.

There’s a way to have what he wants, he’s sure. He just needs time to think of it.

She trusts you.

She shouldn’t. Or— no, she should, but—

Is he violating that trust? Is he violating her? No, no— she wanted this. Wants this, he’s sure.

She deserves better.

He shakes his head, trying to shoo the thought away.

How dare she make him feel like this. How dare she make him feel, full stop.

There’s too much too slow in his mind. Nothing wants to stick, concerns and ideas all flowing into one another. He needs to focus, but he can’t, not with her here, like a time bomb ready to go off as soon as she stirs.

It can wait.

Send her on her way, and he’ll think about it later, come up with a solution later.

Just breathe.

Have a smoke.

He sets aside soiled items and retrieves all he needs from the sitting area. Not so callous to leave her fully alone, he posts himself beside her against the desk, awaiting her inevitable awakening. Once she comes to, once she’s had her breather, he’ll graciously excuse her. Let her leave, then think things through without distractions.

Ash tray set on the desk, he pulls the cigar from his lips and rolls it between his fingers, then takes up the guillotine. One snip. Cutter down, lighter up, and he toasts the end carefully before properly lighting. The first mouthful begins to settle his nerves. Smooth smoke and a careful balance of breath and taste to avoid inhaling the brunt of it.

A sideways glance spots her still bare backside, and he delicately fixes that immodesty. That’s done for now. He needs time to process.

He stares at the door, letting the muscle memory of the smoking soothe the panic she caused.

She’s just a girl.

It’s just a game.

No reason to throw a tantrum if he lost a round, he’ll simply get better before the next. Or fix the rules. Or… something.

She stirs, and his breath is frozen in his chest, eyes ahead but mind on her quiet shifting beside him. No words, so he takes another mouthful.

Relax. Calm.

Despite the aid of the ritual smoking has become for him, he’s still stiff. Still holding that familiar neutral mask. Planning out a response, a way to get rid of her so he can think. What’s the proper reaction after that? Well done? Thank you for your cooperation?

She’s awake, he knows she’s awake, so why hasn’t she said anything? Some defensive part of him wants to say the game is over, she’s her own creature, he doesn’t have orders for her.

For too long, there’s silence. Finally, he lets out a stream of smoke and a sigh. Go on, then. Say your piece. With enough time, he may even find a way to answer her inevitable questions.

He turns very slightly to look down at her, and the look in her eyes terrifies him. He feels a shack in a windstorm, frantically nailing shutters closed as she tries to pry them open with that look.

So clear, so plain, like she’s staring straight through him.

His heart races, but the familiar pattern of smoking keeps him calm. He just needs— time. He needs time to think. He can’t deal with her right now.

Something pierces straight through his chest with that tiny pinch between her brows, that twinge of pain and loss.

If she’s looking for guidance, he can’t offer it. There’s no map in his hands. He needs time to survey that future, to plot that course, determine how he can continue— if he can continue.

Guilt is not a feeling he enjoys. Worry and fear and insecurity— if he’d known they would be the aftermath of what he’d done, he never would’ve gone through with it.

Defensive accusations sprout up easily. Temptress. Seductress. Some complex scheme to control him, to get in his head. He waits for her demands, for whatever she’ll say to attempt to wrap him around her finger. Whatever it is, he refuses to fall to it. It’s his game, his rules, and he’s the one in control.

She finally looks away, shakily pulling herself up to stand. He can’t watch. Watching will only put him under her spell. He needs to get rid of her so his brain can work properly.

The sound of her prosthesis dragging across the desktop makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, even as his breath stays so even, the pattern easy to maintain. She’s pulled herself to her full height, only slightly propped up by the desk, facing him.

Too close. She’s too close. It’s oppressive, being stared at like that, and he stubbornly maintains his cold gaze, set dead ahead. He refuses to back down to her. Her and her softness. Her vulnerability. That need that pulls at him like a void, dragging his attention away from what he ought to be thinking of.

He spots the motion immediately, the little lift to her hand—

No.

The panic is barely contained, just managing not to flinch as he shifts his leg out of her reach.

No. His rules. His game. She’s— he can’t handle that. Can’t handle her right now. He just needs time, can’t she just give him time? He can’t think like this!

There’s a pause. A moment for him to breathe, but it’s not enough. Not with her right there, forcing his body into high alert.

“You changed your mind awfully quick.” Her voice is neutral. That’s proof, isn’t it? That her softness is fake, her vulnerability a trap, all some complex ploy to— something. It has to be something to want him weak. He can’t think why— can hardly think at all, but surely there has to be a reason.

Too many feelings. She’s forcing emotions on him. He refuses to fall for her tricks.

“About what.” He treats her like an enemy. Like another chem baron, plotting something. It’s easy to keep on the cool facade, measuring her up, meeting her with even confidence as his gaze slides sideways to meet hers.

Is this about the sex? Defensiveness demands he prove her wrong. He didn’t change his mind. “You initiated this.” He would’ve been content just to hurt her—

The twinge through his chest makes his jaw clench for a moment, and he brings the cigar to his lips to hide any sign of it. Not hurt— or— yes hurt, but not— not hurt—

He doesn’t feel guilty.

This is on her. She’s the one who brought it up, last night. She’s the one who thanked him. She’s the one who fucking took her pants off for gods’ sake.

“I gave you plenty of opportunities to stop.”

He stares at the door, willing her out of it. Whatever she’s doing to him, he hates it. Time, he just needs time— can’t she give him some time and some space to think things out, to come up with a plan, an approach, to sort out what’s happening—

“…I can’t do this again.” It sounds like a realization. Almost a revelation, and one she can’t believe she’s made.

Again? He shoots his gaze over to her, neck stiffened in place, refusing to give her his full attention. What’s this ‘again’? Proof she’s done this before? Ruined some other man? “Who else have-”

“We can’t do this again.”

Oh. The relief is frustrating, but the tension in his neck eases, and he grabs back control of the room, forcing her to wait as he takes another mouthful of smoke, slowly. Letting his nerves calm.

This. Right. That makes sense; this was too far. Even if she started it, it was too far. And it can’t happen again. He doesn’t want it to happen again. That’s fine. This is fine.

He pulls out the moment a little longer, just to prove to himself— no, to her— that he can. That he still holds the reins in this dynamic. Even if they never need to view them quite so explicitly again. “…Understood.” No more corporal punishment. Fines will suffice. “We’ll return to financial-”

“I’d like to see the Doctor instead.”

What? The tension is back, barely able to keep himself from snapping his head sideways, resulting in a short motion he stops quickly. The panic hits—

No.

And the anger—

She’s his.

And a shot of hurt he doesn’t expect, confusion, a hit of insecurity that immediately slams his defenses back in place. Chill sets in. She can’t do this to him. His game. He’ll be the one to stop it, and he’s not ready for that. He just needs a day or two to think— he can fix this, get them back to where they were— things were so good, why did she have to ruin it?

He won’t give up his claim on her time. He fumbles for the reins again, that confidence, so assured in his own organization. His rules.

“As I told you; Singed is busy with-”

“It’s five minutes, Silco.”

The interrupting throws him, unsettles him, forces him off balance even without the content of her interruption.

“I’ll get myself to the lab. I’ll do mornings with Wren, I’ll figure out a training schedule.”

It’s only years of practice, a carefully cultivated poker face, that keeps his body still as his eyes dart between hers.

She can’t do this. Don’t leave. She can’t make this choice— she works for him, he’s the one in charge. Please don’t leave. He needs control back, he needs her— needs her under his control, needs to keep her— needs her kept in line. A mess of anger and anxiety roils in his gut. A sneered defense curls his lip.

Why is she doing this?

“You wanted attention,” he points out, coldly. He gave her what she wanted, that’s all.

How can she do this to him?

This is what she wanted. This is her fault. “Practically begged for it, nearly propositioning me— drunk.”

“So you indulged me?”

“Of—” Silencing his tight frustration with a hurried breath from the cigar, forcing himself to calm down, return to chilled arrogance. Gods, of course he indulged her— she thinks he’d do this with just anyone? “What would you call this, if not indulging you?”

“You called it punishment.”

His words are acerbic. “Your particular brand of punishment isn’t exactly standard practices, sweet.” He matches her curled lip. “I merely work to your predilections.”

‘Are you gonna spank me?’ It was her idea that set this in motion.

She looks furious. “I don’t know,” the sarcasm isn’t even veiled anger, “you were the one grinding his cock against my ass.”

He wants to cringe. This was a mistake.

She continues; “I assumed it might be at least somewhat enjoyable for you, too.”

Such a mistake. He never should’ve touched her. Just used her obedience without taking it any further. She’s too clingy, too emotional, she needs too much that he’s not willing to give her. “Your submission is a-”

“That’s really all you want from me?” Her fury is growing, and he refuses to bow to it, even as fingers scratch across the surface of his desk. Her words are practically spat at him. “To play this part for you?”

Honestly, as if he’s the aggressor here! She’s the one who tried to kiss him that day, and she’s the one crossing boundaries he doesn’t want crossed. She likes what he does to her, her body made that very clear. “As if you don’t take every opportunity to fawn over-”

“Shut up. I’m asking you a question.”

No. He absolutely refuses to be ordered around by her. A flash of teeth as he drops his lighter to reach for her— ready to slide his grip into her hair, to remind her how easily she yields under his touch—

His stomach lurches, fear and panic and anger all shooting into his throat as she wrestles his arm down, unbalancing him both literally and figuratively.

This was a mistake.

On her part, on his part, all of it. A horrible mistake.

—

[😬 What a dumbass.

But hey, now we’ve seen both sides, we can finally move on with the main story :)

:) Right?

Bruh— THIS CHAPTER. I need reactions! Tags, comments, all that! Silco’s denial is so damned strong— he’s so fucking stubborn when he wants to be— they deserve each other, honestly. 🤦‍♀️ This dumbass panicking and being an asshole about it, smh.

Anyway— sorry for the wait! I’ve been working on some audio editing for the podfic 👀 It’s slow but steady, hoping to finish chapter one before next weekend. If you haven’t read the main fic, you can find it on ao3 or tumblr, and the other reverse POVs both on the main masterlist and a series on AO3.

If you want to get notified when the new chapters finally drop, comment on this linked post to join the tag list. Want to finish 31 before I post 28, but so far so good ^^ See you in the next one! ❤️ -verbs]

Tag list: @hawk4president @mello-jello29 @jennrosefx @dad-dumpster @ellhd-imagination @zuckerwattencupcake @meep-moop-mystic @sherwood-forests @ariaud @witxhy-lexx @mazikomo @leave-me-alone-doctor @antoine-tte @wisteria-songs @imalovernotahater @eriseffigy @leorioaki @artificialwords @hehicular-hanslaughter-lecter @ironandglass @ughhhh177 @faraige @ilikemymendarkandfictional @jennithejester @insult-2-injury @iz-zy5 @rinadragomir @queenofspades6 @cuddlejeongin @differentladynerd @alternativeforensicscientist @leo-the-undead @silcoituse @stepsonsilco @commotionpotion @averagecrastinator @eurydicethesage @mialobo @wierdestmoppet @bumble-bee-17

#silco #silco arcane #silco x reader #silco x f!reader #silco/reader #silco pov #a helping hand #wip:a helping hand #x-amount-writes #smut

[bombpunk]

…everybody wants to be my enemy!

MiLES / JiNX ! HE/AER. ftm butch bisexual fagdyke. black. 18. intersex. queerpunk. header art credit.

NO DNI, I JUST BLOCK. main interests are arcane, rwby, genshin, and spiderverse. chronic art reblogger.

fav charas: jinx, silco, jayce talis, ruby rose, james ironwood, wriothesley, xiao, miles morales, hobie brown, gwen stacy. fav ships: timebomb, jayvik, bumbleby, nuts and dolts, wriolette, xiaoaether, punkflower, ghostflower

#📌

[elisethetraveller]

Continued from; misstantabismuses

This monthly meeting with the Chem-Barons had been more draining than it usually was. Everybody was on edge since someone had been trying to supplant him in terms of power. It had resulted in Silco spending most of the meeting arguing more with the Barons than getting anything substantial done. Great. That was another meeting, they could effectively throw into the trash.

Silco hated those occurrences. After all, he didn't ask the Chem-Barons to meet him daily. He only ever asked for one monthly get-together where they discussed relevant events and problems, which affected more than one territory. Other than that, they all stayed in their place and traded with one another when they weren't trying to lynch each other. After all, at the end of the day, they were still criminals. Thus Silco detested it when this one meeting resulted in more arguing, snarling and insults than any results. Especially Finn had been nothing but a torn in his side.

This was why Silco had returned to his office with a foul mood and an even fouler temper. Upon spotting Elise, he had simply pointed at the floor and told her: "You sit there." before he had made his way over to the desk and set down, choosing to distract himself with a smoke and some other calculations, he had to finish. Renata Glasc and his trade agreement required a lot of juggling of money, subtractions and raises. After all, Renata couldn't develop enough medicine if she wasn't properly funded. Her words, not this.

Silco could feel Elise's gaze on him once every while as if she was checking to make sure that he was alright. He didn't grant her with a response, just finding some solace for his boiling blood in the fact that Elise as told had moved her work from the desk to the floor and just sat there. It was a pathetic attempt to reestablish control. Silco was well aware of that. But his raging mind needed it before he chose to try and take it out on someone else. Silco still remembered how at one point, he had almost curb-stomped Dustin into the ground just because his runner had made the mistake of saying something at the wrong time.

The cigar was gleaming in his hand. Embers gathered in its tip becoming more and more, ready to fall off at any moment. Finally, Silco's heterochromatic gaze met Elise as he ordered: "Elise, the ashtray."

He wanted her to pick up the ashtray, crawl over towards him, drop down on her knees and present the ashtray to him so that he might use it.

While they were as far from the Sickly months as the year allowed it didn’t mean the mage was without work. A city never sleeps, and while Zaun was a city unlike any she had previously been in the truth was that it not only never slept, it never stopped fighting. Fighting with itself, fighting with its environment, fighting with Piltover. And like all fighting it left wounded in its wake, be it physical wounds, sickness or mental strains.

Picking a handwritten note from a pile silver eyes skimmed over the unsteady letters. Passes of paranoia, unsteadiness, extensive nightmares, feelings of numbness and pain in the affected limbs. The list of symptoms was from a family member of a worker from one of the chemical plants. They’d escaped an accident, a little nicked but otherwise alive, however some hadn’t been as fortunate and from what was described it would appear the one survivor was now dealing with the aftermath of that. Using a pen she noted the address in the lower right corner of the note in the journal laying in the centre of it all. The header of the page read ‘Home Visits’. It almost felt like a luxury when she had the time for those, but times were good right now. At least on that front.

A smaller stack of notes, all in the same curly tight handwriting, detailing the things which were going…less well. The one thing which was going less well. Eyes drifting back to Silco there was no denying he was tense. Be it in tone or body language. He hadn’t spoken a word since he entered the office. He must have been at a meeting, possibly with the Chembarons, it was that time of the month, and she knew few things that could drive him into such a mood without her hearing about it.

“Hm?” Despite the questioning tone she moved, first picking up the ashtray from the coffee table and then silently making her way over to him. Without a word she settled back down on her knees, skirt billowing around her legs, a simple image of proper posture. Offering the ashtray Elise held it out towards him, strong fingers holding it slightly above her palm as if presenting it to him. “Here.”

( @misstantabismuses )

#ic #misstantabismuses

[aftonfamilyvalues]

What is your header image referencing? Silco with a giraffe head??? Did I miss something

ACKSHUALLY its a giraffe with a silco head

#ask

[silcosentropy]

Heya! Love your recent updates to the ask vanco blog!! The comic is going places!!!

Good job 👏 👍

(P.s, in the flashes was Powder worried about her sister getting stabbed? If so poor baby. Also, why did you remove the description of the Ask Vanco?)

Hello! I'm very happy you like it! I wanted to give the blog an ongoing plot from the beginning but found it a bit too ambitious. I'm glad I kicked myself to actually do it as it seems that both me and you, the readers, enjoy it more than just simple domestic bliss (which doesn't mean we won't get any domestic bliss :|) The flashes in #49 overlap Powder's imagination and the actual scene. Yes, in her panic, she imagines Vi stabbed full of knives, Sevika's arm exploding, and Silco bleeding out from his wound with his head bashed. It's supposed to be a sort of panic attack fake vision - something I heavily suffer with (so partially based on personal experience).

Oh, the blog description doesn't show for you? I checked and I can clearly see it under the header on both, the app and in a browser... That's pretty strange. I assure you I didn't remove it. Weird.

[gh0stchoir]

A) Will you current hyperfixated character always be in the header of your blog?

B) I'd need a list of characters that are always good for little cheer ups and reminders, please

A) Yes!! I'll start doing that! (They're also usually what I put as my pfp)

B) Bet👹

Eddie Munson

Jean Kirstein

Dabi

Keigo

Tomura

Aizawa

Katsuki

Silco

Kuroo

Daishou

#ace—♡ #hopefully that's a good amount of characters :D