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ohnoitstbskyen · 2 months

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Since Riot Forge has been offed by management, what other characters and storylines would you want a game about?

Honestly, not even necessarily champions. You know what would be cool? An honest to god Stardew Valley style farm simulator where you're, like, trying to run a farm in the Demacian hinterlands. All the usual mechanics: growing crops, mining, crafting, maybe some light combat, lots of dateable NPCs, your grandad's ghost appears and judges you if you haven't gotten laid by the end of year 4, all the usual normal stuff.

But then also there's a mage or two who lives in town, one of the villagers who helps you out, that hot NPC you're trying to date. Maybe the kid you'll eventually have with your spouse could be a mage. And the Mageseekers come around every few years looking, and asking questions, and taking people away from your community, and you need to make some decisions about what you're going to do about that. Do you sell your fellow villagers out to the authorities, in return for rewards, or do you find a way to resist?

Like, that kind of a thing. Or a 4x or Total War style game where you play as a Noxian commander trying to expand and colonize the Valoran continent, pushing against the borders of Demacia and the Freljord. Crusader Kings-like set in Shurima where Azir is trying to unite his new empire.

Heartless Frostpunk-style management game where your goal is to help your Freljord tribe survive an especially harsh winter. Tavern management game set in Bilgewater where you're trying not to run afoul of pirate gang politics. Visual novel where you play as a tormented soul on the Shadow Isles trying to escape from Ruination by finding the Hallowed Mist manor from Legends of Runeterra.

This is one of the things that frustrated me about Forge, that it was still stuck in this "THE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS CHAMPIONS ARE THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF OUR UNIVERSE!" framework that League of Legends itself is stuck to, rather than trying to profile and expand the universe itself as an interesting setting that people might love all on its own, the way people love Middle Earth whether or not Aragorn happens to be there, or the Star Trek universe regardless of who's captaining the Enterprise that day.

Oh, also, dating sim set in Piltover and Zaun where none of the dateable options is a champion, but every playthrough, one of them is randomly selected to actually be Evelynn in disguise, and if you can't see through her act in time, she kills you in agonizing (horny) ways.

#tb answers #league of legends #riot forge #runeterra

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elsfairy · 8 months

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ᥫ᭡ HOLD ME WHEN IT GETS TOO MUCH ─ 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓

Violet hasn’t been able to trust herself with anyone since coming back from Stillwater. She kept to herself, and only spoke to people when she really needed to, but other than that, she avoided any type of friendship and form of romance that she could. Simply to protect her feelings, emotions, vulnerability, and trust.

When she arrived home, it was different. Of course, everything was going to be different, she’s missed out on so many things over the years from being confined in a small space to looking at the same 4 walls for such a long period of time. She didn’t have that strive in her to find the people who knew what she looked like, what she sounded like, or who loved her. She wanted to seal herself off, not let anyone in and know her, the real her again.

What was the point of trying so hard to build up that relationship with someone when people would either hate you for ‘leaving’ or for completely falling off the face of the earth?

How would she gain the trust of those who cared & loved her again?

No one tried to search for her when she left, so why should she search for that little part of the care that was still there before she was gone?

It was simple, really. She couldn’t.

Vi felt like she didn’t deserve that second chance, because she pretty much became a ghost.

Until she spotted you the second she found herself cramming her way into the very crowded Last Drop.

To her, you were like a shining star. A star that couldn’t be brought down no matter how many rude customers you had to endure, or had to throw out. You were still fuckin’ smiling your way through your job. Had to break up a fight between two idiots arguing over something so pointless yet so big to them? She felt weak in the knees that you were still so polite and kind towards the two strangers. Wasn’t feeling the best? Vi envied how you pushed through without complaints. You were that light energy she didn’t even realize she was looking for until you had looked at her, waved her over and simply poured her a drink with a soft, gentle “on the house”

Simply & constantly believed that she didn’t think she deserved that second chance right?

You could see how.. disconnected she felt even though Zaun was is her home. Sure she would sit there and listen to you talk about what your day consisted of, and if anything exciting had happened but she wasn’t fully there. It was always like her body and brain weren’t even on the best terms because while she was there with you, it was like her soul had left and she was just.. a broken shell and had nothing going for her.

Over the weeks of getting to somewhat know the Violet you’ve heard about, you truly did realize how much she turned off at the mention of friends she once knew, or walked off at the mere mention of Powder. She didn’t wanna hear about how she let them down, nor did she want to relieve the pain she felt knowing she couldn’t protect them hard enough as so many would put it. Talking about it only made her feel shitter and want to crawl deeper into the dark pit she can never seem to fully crawl out from.

Realistically, it didn’t take her that long to open up to you, nor did it take her long to finally have her trust put into someone that she knew would keep it. Of course she was still skeptical if you were there to stay, but not having someone she could call for advice, or to just sit there and listen to her, drained her. Her social battery without being very social was killing her and to know she finally had you, someone she felt safe with to call somewhat home? That meant more to her than you’d ever know.

The time window was small, but big enough whenever she needed you. She needed you like butter needed bread. She needed you like paper needs glue. If you weren’t around, Violet would panic. Not because she felt harmed or scared of Zaun, but more or so was scared to be left alone with the thoughts only you knew about. The ones that slither in at random times of the day. Ones that crept up on her when she finally felt at peace for just a second. Your bright smile, those star shining eyes kept all of those horrendous thoughts spiralling through her mind, at a distance.

She may not have been around you for long periods of time, but she trusted you.

She might be scared to let you know of all the sacred stories she has to tell, but she believed you.

Violet believed you when you once on a cold night, whispered those 4 soft words; “I’m here for you”

That’s how one night she felt like she world was slowly closing in on her, she felt like breathing wasn’t an option because she simply couldn’t feel her heartbeat due to the feeling that all those thoughts, all the trauma, and the feeling of being alone, attacking her any given chance. Which is the same night she somehow turned up at your small apartment, drenched from the rain, teeth chattering as she just looked at you with those soft, big doe eyes, and eye bags that were darker than your usual cup of tea. It wasn’t until you heard how tired she sounded, that you could feel just how broken she felt.

“You’ve given me all this attention that I don’t think I deserve, you’ve helped me heal slowly and you’ve been there when I thought I lost everyone so I'm begging you, just for tonight… no talking, no thinking, can you just hold me instead? please i just need you to hold me.. because I’m scared I’m forgetting what being held felt like”

Right now she’s not okay, but as time goes on she will heal and you’ll be there every step of the way. Even if that means holding her every single night while she cries her heart out to you, and you’re there listening. She’ll knows she will be okay, with you by her side.

Her home.

#hi #vi x reader #vi x you #vi fluff #vi angst #vi arcane #vi fic #arcane violet #violet arcane

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arcanefandomweek · 9 months

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Arcane Year 2 Event Week!

From November 7th to the 13th

#ArcaneYear2 / #ArcaneYearTwo

Let's celebrate Arcane on its second anniversary! All fanworks are welcome! In this special week, you have a choice of two themes, each with unique prompts.

What Could Have Been

Nov 7 : Faction Swap / First Time Nov 8 : Vander Lives / Broken Nov 9 : Hugs / Family / Grief Nov 10 : Food / Gift / Fix It Nov 11 : AU / Soulmate / Adoption Nov 12 : Nightmare / Kiss / Jealousy Nov 13 : Free Day / Goodbyes

What Could Yet Be

Nov 7 : Hextech / Ghost / Blood Nov 8 : Common Enemy / Warwick Nov 9 : Begging / Shimmer / Art Nov 10 : Chaos / Light / Promise Nov 11 : Noxus / Secrets / Fear Nov 12 : Machine Herald / Faith / Lies Nov 13 : Voices / Legacy / Hope

How does this work?

The "What could have been" prompts were chosen to fit fics or art (or meta, playlists, etc) set before or during season 1.

This includes ideas like "Heimerdinger used to travel the world before founding Piltover" set before canon, as well as missing scenes like "Viktor creating his hextech arm" during the time skip, or "Vi waking up in Stillwater".

The "What could yet be" prompts were chosen for speculation about season 2 and beyond.

This includes ideas like "my favourite LoL character definitely rocks into Zaun" or "Jinx frees Warwick" or "How Viktor becomes the Machine Herald"

You can mix and match! You can do one theme for day 1, the other for day 2... And on day 3 you could use the 'family' prompt to write a season 2 AU! Ultimately these prompts are to provide inspiration and a framework. I will not police submissions, so long as you respect the rules. Please read them well!

Rules | AO3 collection | Twitter | FaQ

Participation Bingo for readers and fans

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olwrat · 4 months

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Sevika

Let's talk about Sevika.

She's a damn great character, well built as someone who always and only works for someone she believes will help Zaun - her biggest motivation is helping Zaun.

Sevika is a well known figure in the lanes, both from Vander's and Silco's era, and I believe that her reputation will stay as a respected person - for a while.

Why "for a while"? Warwick.

You see, when Vander was being dragged to that chair in episode 3, he's staring at Sevika, and what we hear in the background? The blood hunt.

I reckon every Warwick player knows what it is; it's the name of his W. And in most cases, it means a low life enemy.

What I'm trying to say? Warwick may hunt Sevika, wether because he's chasing a ghost memory of a traitor, a primor urge of vengeance, or simply because she's the low life enemy we always run across the map to kill.

Look, I love Sevika, but I truly think that may happen... I hope I'm wrong, or that at least she's able to escape and, I don't know, maybe Vi searches for Sevika looking for information

Anyway, I just hope Arcane comes out soon so I can go and cry because of it

#league of legends #lol #arcane memes #arcane #jinx arcane #sevika #sevika arcane #arcane season two #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #lol warwick #league of legends warwick #warwick arcane #vander arcane #warwick is vander theory #theory #arcane theory #league of legends meme

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lullabyes22-blog · 6 months

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Arcane Fanfic Scenarios

Fic scenarios that will probs never get written but are fun to imagine:

Bobby Pins and Angel Wings: Five times Jinx and Ekko nearly kissed - and the one time they did. Bittersweet snippets of childhood games and cozy rooftop chats, told in flashback form. All interwoven with Jinx and Ekko going all-out during a shoot-out in the present day.

Category: Angst, Fluff, Violence.

Ships: Jinx x Ekko

Some Like it Hot: Crack oneshot. Silco makes a guest appearance on Hot Ones and dishes out the complexities of revolution and the struggles of running the drug trade and being a single father - all while absolutely devouring the ghost peppers.

Y'all. This is Zaun. You expect them not to have spicy food?

Ends with Sean Evans going utterly non-verbal after trying one of Zaun's own homebrewed concoctions... while Silco chugs a glass of yogurt and smiles slyly for the cameras.

And then gets the hiccups<3

Category: Crack, Humor, Politics.

Ships: Zaun x Spicy cuisine.

Arcane Meets Isekai: Character-x-Reader themed Choose Your Own Adventure where reader is flung into the chaotic and magical world of Runeterra, and ends up simultaneously stealing the hearts of a shyly brilliant scientist (Viktor) and a ruthless Undercity revolutionary (Silco). Shenanigans ensue. Multiple endings and wild scenarios. Heimerdinger's poro was hurt in the making of this story - and will be hurt again.

Category: Angst, Fluff, Crack, Smut.

Ships: Primarily Viktor x Reader and Silco x Reader. But there can be so much more.

Empires Rise and Fall: Silco and Mel and up brokering a marriage pact to keep their cities united. It's an unexpected match made in Heaven - with a dash of Hell. Also a warlord mother-in-law who refuses to keep her nose out of the marital chamber. And a step-daughter creeping like a golem in the rafters...

Drabbles of the angsty, fluffy, smutty and political variety. Plus a honeymoon in Noxus. Complete with near abductions and survived assassination attempts.

"Mawwiage. That bwessed awwangement. That dweam within a dweam..."

Category: Angst, Smut, Fluff.

Ships: Silco x Mel, Silco x Power, Mel x Politics.

Through a Glass Darkly: Extremely dark fic. Silco's life post-drowning. Details everything from his recovery, to his rise as a kingpin-on-the-make, to the development of Shimmer, to his alliance with Singed, and his plans for payback. All while he watches Vander from afar with his new family, and plots to destroy both.

Also features plenty of near run-ins with baby Powder - and a sense of fated inevitability.

The shark was always lying in wait.

Unbeknownst to him, so was fatherhood.

Category: Angst, Gore.

Ships: Silco x Vander

Snakes and Ladders: A retelling of Forward but Never Forget/XOXO from Mel's PoV. Plenty of MelJay cuteness, flashbacks of her life as a Noxian heiress, the grim legacy of Ambessa's lessons, her childhood games with Kino, and a darkly decadent slice of Mel × Silco, as her elusive arch-ally lures her deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of snakes and ladders that is Zaun...

Category: Angst, Smut, Fluff.

Ships: Mel x Jayce, Mel x Silco.

Redux: Multichapter monstrosity. A time travel AU where Jinx, twenty seven years old, is embroiled in an ongoing battle with Piltover - and with her sister Vi. Tired, disillusioned, and with only her ghosts for company, she reminisces bittersweetly about her girlhood days with Silco. Then she breaks into Ekko's workshop and steals his infamous watch, ready to tamper with it and go back all the way to the beginning, before the Day of Ash.

This time she'll make sure they all live: her parents, Vander, Vi, Silco, Ekko, Benzo, Mylo and Claggor.

Safe together.

Long story short: she miscalculates and ends up at the midway point before Vander drowns Silco in the Pilt. Now Jinx has to keep her wits and hide her secrets, as she struggles to survive in a much deadlier and more volatile Zaun. All while she ingratiates herself into their revolutionary circle, and attempts to heal the rift between its two leaders, before it can widen further.

Easier said than done when both men begin taking an interest in Jinx for their own mercenary agenda. And by the end, will slit each others' throats to see said agenda fulfilled.

Dammit.

Where is that Boy Savior when you need him?

Written as a darkly comical fic from Jinx's POV. Back-to-the-Future flavored adventures. Full of booms, oopsie-loopsies, and political commentary.

All our girl wants is to undo the jinx before it jinxes everyone. Instead, she ends up getting baby Powder quite literally 'unalived,' causing heaps of destruction, and accidentally becoming a mentor figure to young Vi. Meanwhile, as Silco's peer rather than his beloved daughter, she can't help but be confronted with glaring flaws in her pedestalized Papa's ideology. All while young Silco, convinced she's either a spy in their midst, or his very own Lady of the Lake sent to illuminate the rightness of Zaun's path, finds his extremist tendencies widening by a mile. Much like Vander's violent streak and his determination to nip Silco's plans in the bud...

A fix-it fic gone off the rails. Don't time travel, folks.

Oh, and there's a sweet Timebomb twist by the end<3

Category: Angst, Horror, Fluff, Comedy, Mood Whiplash Galore.

Ships: Ekko x Jinx, Silco x Vander, Silco x Revolution, Jinx x Chaos.

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ilikereadingthisiswhatilike · 28 days

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March 2024

Alcina Dimitresuc

Alloy

Cyberpunk characters

Single Mom @ratcash-wasgud Summary: Mizu is in love with you and your motherly ways. Warnings: None Special Tag: Modern AU, Parent AU Mizu

Bully @rabbitbandit05 Summary: You are being bullied and Mizu stands up for you. Warnings: Bullying, Slut Shaming Special Tag: Modern AU, College AU Mizu

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 @mt-oe Summary: This rough patch never seems to end. Warnings: None Special Tag: Modern AU, College AU, Angst Mizu

Hidden @rougecreator1 Summary: As a magic user you must hide you abilities, even form those you love. Warnings: None Special Tag: None Jinx

The Girl Time Forgot @hunnylagoon Summary: Ellie is the only time traveller who uses her uncommon gift to rewind time and constantly pester you-the only immortal who made a deal with death in 412 BC and is cursed to walk the earth for all eternity. Forever was promised but you never knew the price Warnings: Death, Murder, Mentions of Suicide, Self-harm, Toxic Relationship, Sickness, Violence, Angst, War, Mentions of Drugs Special Tag: Time Travel AU Ellie Williams

𝐓𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧 @darlingverse Summary: You would do anything for your family, and finding a wealthy husband secures your future and your parents. Deep down, you’re not happy. You want excitement—one thrilling moment before you condemn yourself to a loveless marriage. An encounter with a known troublemaker does just that. Warnings: None Special Tag: Historical AU Dwayne

Bite Me @darlingverse (X) Summary: An accidental bite leads to you discovering a new kink—after all, what's the point of having vampire boyfriends if they won't bite you? Warnings: Blood Special Tag: Blood Kink, Poly The Lost Boys

Confession @buryustogether Summary: Two of you confess your love for each other Warnings: None Special Tag: Fluff Jinx

Baby I'm Yours @sweetcyberangel (X) Summary: When your friends leave you stranded at a club you find yourself in the helpful hands of the club's bouncer, who - by the way - is super hot and definitely your type Warnings: Drinking Special Tag: Muitly Part Abby Anderson

First time @obsessedduh (X) Summary: It is Jinx first time and your more then happy to help Warnings: None Special Tag: Fluff Jinx

Voyer @k3n-dyll (X) Summary: You catch Abby masturbation and decide to watch. Warnings: None Special Tag: Voyerism, Dom Reader Abby Anderson

But I'm a lesbian! @girlrotterr Summary: You get sent to a camp full of lesbian Warnings: Conversion Camp Special Tag: Mutil Part, Poly TLOU Woman

The thought of you @sapphhicsluticslut (X) Summary: she finally spoke to you, after the long awaited 2 weeks of ‘knowing’ you she finally spoke words to you. You just looks to pretty, so she had to make sure you got home safe. So no one could kidnap you or anything, for your own safety. And maybe something else… Warnings: Stalking, Voyeurism Special Tag: Mutil Part, Modern AU Ellie Williams

Winner Winner @lynnielovestlou(X) Summary: Abby and Ellie challenge each other to see who can make you squirt first. Warnings: None Special Tag: None

Sweetheart @pow-pow1111 Summary: You like to playfight with your girlfriend. Warnings: None Special Tag: Fluff Jinx

Could Be a Better Boyfriend Than Him @ceruleanangel Summary: Vi feels a little jealous after one of your performances and decides to show you what's her's Warnings: None Special Tag: None Vi

The Diamond of Zaun @ceruleanangel Summary: During your performance you see a ghost in the crowed. Warnings: None Special Tag: Mutil Part, Performer AU Vi

#x reader #reading fanfiction #reading list #reading recommendations #fanfic recommendation #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #abby anderson x reader #ellie x reader x abby #abby x reader #vi x reader #jinx x reader #mizu x reader #the lost boys x reader

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jennithejester · 2 years

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Title: Ghosts.

The Eye and the Son of Zaun. RatMan and RatBoy.

(I can’t decide what backdrop I like so you get both.)

#arcane #silco #silco art #young silco #silco appreciation post #silco my beloved #arcane silco #silco arcane #arcane fanart

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evelestrange · 9 months

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arcane masterlist

navigation | masterlists

[*ೃ༄] - violet

i’d miss you | vi x fem!reader | word count:1.6k | angst(?) hurt/comfort

┊summary: After the kids conducted the raid in Piltover, the brawl brings out emotions neither of the girls thought they could have anymore.

i can’t love you again | vi x firelight!fem!reader | wordcount: 2.2k | angst, hurt/comfort

┊summary: Vi being held hostage at the firelights base turned to be one of the most eventful days she could’ve had by meeting her lost lover again, but when her girl can’t seem to trust her how will that end?

lost and found | vi x topside!fem!reader | word count: 1.3k | fluff

┊summary: After becoming curious to the evolution on what was across the bridge, you decided to find out what the nation of Zaun was like for yourself. Though, being an obvious topsider puts a target on your back. What happens when you meet a native pink haired Zaunite that could end up being more than just a fleeted meeting

finding love | part II of lost and found

┊summary: After the supposedly fleeted meeting with the pink haired Zaunite, you could not seem to shake the woman from your conscious. One night she comes to visit, apparently she was bored. One night turns into many more as the time flew by, becoming close friends.

Could it become more?

nothing stays lost | part III to lost and found

┊summary: The reader and Vi had been together for around a year now, only a few months short of so. One night when VI made her rounds to your house she pulled herself through your window to hear your parents having a screaming match with you. Over your childhood and how it affects you.

between these bars | vi x fem!zaunite!reader | word count: 1.2k | genre: hurt/comfort

┊(request) summary: You and Vi had been in love since your childhood. Vander’s kidnapping and horribly gone rescue mission had proved you two were never meant to be, as Vi and Vander were killed by the shimmer ravagers and you were caught under the ruble until Sevika had lifted you out. What happens when you’re years and years down the line, getting yourself thrown in prison to cover Jinx’s ass, you see a ghost of your past.

Only she’s not a ghost.

Part II : coming soon

her skin | vi x scarred!fem!reader | word count: 473 | genre: hurt/comfort,fluff

┊(request) summary: just an insecure reader and a supportive Vi

[*ೃ༄] - ekko

enough | ekko x fem!firelight!reader | word count: 1.5k | angst, hurt/comfort

┊(request) summary: You had been kept hostage be Silco’s scientist, for who knows how long. During a shimmer transport, the firelights showed up to intercept it. Only to find you with the cargo

are we too young for this? | ekko x fem!firelight!reader | word count : 1.2k | hurt/comfort

┊(request)summary: Being with Ekko in the firelights wasn’t easy, but it’s worth it.

[*ೃ༄] - jinx

coming soon

[*ೃ༄] - caitlyn

coming soon

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a-gal-with-taste · 1 year

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What Is Seen (Oneshot)

Summary: The scars are not all you see, when you look at him. And in this moment of peace, warmth and closeness, you take the time to study them... and perhaps, finally, tell the Eye of Zaun what you truly see, when you see him.

Tags: Winter/Holiday Fic, cuddling, mentions of hurt/comfort, romance, some humor, established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff because I said so, sleepy kissing, Happy Holidays!

Silco X GN!Reader | 1397 Words | AO3

Too many gave too much attention to his scars, in your humble opinion.

Admittedly, you had been the same when hired. Momentarily frozen under the sight of crackled-gray, fitted with blood red enveloped in pitch-black.

It had struck you, haunted you long-after that first meeting, and lingered in your mind. Standing out as a permanent fixture in your thoughts, for days to come, until your next meeting.

The meeting following after that meeting, you stopped paying attention to the scars. And, though he'd never truly admit it, you imagined that's when Silco began to pay attention to you as well.

Love didn't come quickly, but the attraction certainly did. Magnetic forces brought together under the guise of business as he built-up his empire, and you eased-in the supplies with a finesse he quietly appreciated.

But it wasn't your tactics and reliability that made him call you back, and likewise, it wasn't his scars that drew you in.

Many claim his ruin-eye to be one of fire. True, but also nonsense; the green is far more in its bare intensity, often barely holding back tides of pure, raw thoughts and emotion in that seagreen gaze.

It was that seagreen that drew you in, lost you in its depths, again and again, until you forgot the scars entirely.

Forgot who Silco was sometimes, even. The danger of the sea didn't scare you, after your presence became something more than occasional - in fact, a part of you welcomed the drowning.

And when at last, talks of business ceased, soon with all attempts at speaking failing as your lips found his, you indeed found the drowning delectable, addictive, and magnetic...

You were more than happy to drown, again and again.

Silco, though he never said it aloud, was more than pleased you were so-willing to fall to the depths with him.

And so, you forget the scars. Quite impossible, yet so simple to cast them from your mind as time goes by, as brushes of skin and lips become more frequent, and less hidden. They simply didn't matter, and you so rarely took notice of them when his low-words and expert hands were far, far more all-encompassing.

Which is why, in this moment of peace, you study your love - and more importantly, those scars everyone seems to fixate on.

The fire before you both no-longer roars, but exhibits a heat that has long-since sent the Industrialist in a sleep, one that is much needed. You have no doubt your own body, and the comforter you both share, helped get him to such a relaxed state.

Head tilting-back on the couch, jaw slackened to let soft little breaths whistle through chipped-teeth in his snores, it's a herculean task not to smooth back the ruffled dark-hairs that have fallen askew over forehead and temple. A task failing quick, as your hands begin to ghost up from its placement along the steady, rhythmic beating of his heart, and coasting further up to gently shuffle those dark locks back.

His breathing hitches, and your own stills.

When it resumes, you draw your hand away, tucking it back beneath the blacket, and against Silco’s chest with a tenderness that still, after all this time, feels unreal. It feels unreal, that you are capable of being this close to the man, and likewise, that he remains so close and so trusting to you.

It feels impossible to think a man like Silco can learn to trust again, when you give attention to the scars.

Guessing his weariness would be long lasting, the patch was placed on to hide away the toxified-eye in his rest, but it does nothing to hide the scars you trace with your eyes. Scars that define him. That changed him, fundamentally and morally, into the Eye of Zaun the Undercity knows of today. A man of ruthless and unapologetic nature, a creature of spite and maliciousness, taken human-form…

Others would flinch.

You simply lean up to brush your lips against the blackened-grooves, the rigid flesh of his marred cheekbone.

It causes Silco’s breath to hitch, and return from the depths of snoring he had fallen into. You say nothing as he awakens with your name on his lips, only traveling your own to follow the line of his cheekbone beneath ruined skin, layering another slow kiss there, as he lets out a dry sigh.

“You realize, the nerves there are mostly dead,” Silco murmurs, in a perplexed question of sleepy affection, masked as dry sarcasm as he fights back a yawn. “I can neither feel nor sense you there, not in the correct capacity. It’s all… muted.”

“Even when I do this?” Another kiss, this one delivered closer to the hollow of his angular cheek, rather than the sharp-bone beneath. The action only earns you a hum, and the arm slung around your hip tightening.

“How about this?” Closer, edging-along the patch that hides his eye. Silco doesn’t even attempt to struggle back the deep yawn this time, but ends it with a tired sound of your name, that you know is secretly amused beneath the exhaustion.

Traveling your mouth closer to the lobe of his ear, you murmur in that honey-sweet, low pitch that you know has him shuddering. “And this-?”

Lips barely make it there, before he is turning, and capturing your lips with his own.

You melt into him, and it’s not because of the fireplace that lays before you both. The warmth that spreads through your body, at the simple, nearly chaste kiss he offers, is not one that can be born out of such a physical-element as fire. Rather, it originates from something stronger, more heated and powerful, all encompassing, and burning in your veins, through your heart…

Enough to keep you warm, long after he pulls away to lean his forehead on yours.

“Amusing yourself with my battle scars?” He questioned, more curious than hostile, but the green-gaze of his flickers over your face regardless. Largely from the force of habit, which you don’t blame him for.

“Not exactly,” You murmur, sliding your hand up once more, to cup the unscarred cheek. “Studying, more like.”

“Indeed?”

“Yep.”

“Care to share your findings?”

A smile dances on your lips, shadowed in the dancing of the flames, as you lean closer to murmur against his mouth once-more with hooded eyes. “They aren’t all that scary.”

“Ha.” Silco rolls the singular eye that remains. “I beg you don’t tell the populace. Or else, I may have to find a new career.”

“I could sponsor you.”

“And I would bleed-you dry,” He says in a dark-sweetness akin to bitter honey, as he nips at your bottom lip in a way that has you squeaking, biting back your own grin in an attempt to stay serious.

“I mean it. I don’t normally take notice of them… don’t normally see them, to be honest.” His brow raises, and you shrug, speaking your truth simply. “They aren’t the features I think of most, when I think of you. Not the focal point, and not what I see, when I think of you.”

“What do you see, then…?” His question grows quiet, as your hands travel up to cup at either-side of his face. Angular, sharp, and rough against one of your palms… but you hold his face with all the tenderness that comes when holding something precious, and gazing at him, as though he is indeed something precious to behold.

“What do you think, Silco?” You murmur simply, hand sliding further upward to push away the patch and returning to his cheek the moment it’s off. “What do you think I see?”

Slower, mismatched eyes flick between your own - from habit, ever-assessing, even with you. It’s not one you would fault him for, and you do not fault him now. Only smile, thumb brushing along the rough ridge of skin beneath the infamous eye, as you look at him.

Look at the man you love. The man you’re happy to drown into, with those seagreen eyes, and happy to burn for, as you hold one-another close before the flames, and all-knowing he would do the very same...

Love. That’s what you see.

Silco never ends up answering your question.

But you think the long kiss he offers you next, as you lay together in the warmth of a crackling fire, says more than enough.

#happy holidays #silco #Arcane #silco x reader #arcane fic #silco fic #silco x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #oneshot #fluff #romance #short and sweet #reader insert #winter fic

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ace-of-zaun · 1 year

Text

Pas de Deux pt. 8:

Silco x f!reader, 9k words, SFW

CW: obsessive silco, yandere/kidnapping (please see part 1 for the full series warnings!)

Chapter warnings: emotional manipulation, referenced past abuse, unresolved sexual tension, fluff, talk about death and ghosts, talk about murder, angst, possessiveness

It takes a surprisingly short amount of time for you to start feeling like you’re back to normal. That is, this new normal that you’ve found yourself in, after a chance encounter with the King of the Undercity that had changed your life forever.

But despite you no longer feeling that tidal wave of numbness following the wake of your visit Topside, you do notice a slight shift in the air, especially between you and Silco.

Perhaps you’re just looking at things differently now. You’ve both revealed secrets, and honestly, you feel a huge weight lifted from your shoulders now that you’ve done so.

And gods, that confession he’d made when you were in that booth together. Of course, he’d pretty much said it before, not only in words, but with every soft look and reverent touch. But he’d never said it in those exact words and never like that.

In a moment of self-preservation, you’d decided to just forget about the pills. They were gone and you would never get your hands on them without Silco’s help. Instead, you were choosing to focus on the performance for the chem-barons.

But the bitter truth was, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep stalling in order to devise a new plan to escape. And what made that truth even more sour was the constant, underlying thought that you had no idea what you were going to do when you finally got back to Piltover.

You no longer have a house, or any money to get a temporary roof over your head until everything settles down again.

You’re completely on your own.

But, you keep repeating to yourself that you’ll just have to burn that bridge when you get to it… of course, you’re not beyond literally burning the bridge between Topside and the Undercity if that’s what it takes.

Until then, you tell yourself to keep stalling. Keep pushing the date of the performance back until you have a solid plan in place. Besides, you still didn’t have a costume despite giving Silco some design sketches and a description of the materials you’d seen at the market.

There’s absolutely no point in asking him to take you back there to buy them, so you don’t even bother.

It’s a warm, rainy day when there’s another, almost undetected shift in the air. The soft pitter-patter of rain on the stained glass window of Silco’s office (which you were surprised to discover was one of his own designs), is almost comforting as you sit curled up on the sofa.

Silco is busily scribbling away on some documents at his desk, leaving you to peacefully read through your newest book, one he’d ordered especially for you. But you find yourself unable to focus on any of the words. Your mind is too scattered to concentrate properly.

As you lean your fist against your cheek, elbow propped on the armrest, you gaze at the King of Zaun, wondering just what could be going through that complicated head of his.

It wouldn’t take a detective to notice that since the visit Topside he was steadily becoming more and more swamped with work. Could it just be a coincidence? Or was there a causal link?

Perhaps the visit to Piltover had required some favours that needed paying back. You recall Silco’s hushed conversation as you’d arrived at the Piltover side of the bridge. Or maybe someone else had gotten wind of the stunt and was attempting to use some information against him.

It’s this thought that prompts you to blurt out your next question.

“Did you want me to help with anything?”

Silco’s eyes snap up to meet yours, surprise etched alongside the intricate lines of his scarred face.

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, a slight swivel of his chair to face you.

“With your work,” you clarify, nodding towards his desk. “You’re always so busy, is there anything I can help with?”

The corner of his mouth lifts up a touch and you immediately assume he’s going to dismiss you.

“Actually there is, my darling,” he responds, completely subverting your expectations as he carefully places his pen down on the desk.

A hint of relief rushes through you. This could be your chance to learn something that you could use to blackmail him. Or an opportunity to learn some names or locations of people that could give you sanctuary when you finally escape.

“I have some letters that have yet to be placed in their envelopes and stamped with a wax seal,” Silco continues, rubbing his forehead as if he’s trying to erase a headache.

Your initial instinct is to laugh and tell him that giving you hot wax in his presence is an absolutely horrific idea. But obviously you can’t say that.

Instead, you offer him a simple, and rather pleasant, “Okay.”

Silco begins to roll his chair back, so you purposefully stand up and stride across the room to grab yourself a chair before he can do something ridiculous like suggest you sit on his lap.

Then again, the more you think about it, the more you think it might not be the worst idea. Maybe you’d accidentally break one of his old man hips and render him unable to fight back…

Silco suggests nothing of the sort, pushing himself up from his chair and stalking over to the drinks cart to pour you both a glass of water.

Truthfully, you’re not sure whether you feel relieved or disappointed.

Placing the chair on the opposite side to Silco’s cushioned throne, you quickly get settled, hoping to sneak a look at some of the documents on his desk before he returns. Unfortunately, Silco is rather well-practised at pouring drinks, meaning he’s already back at the desk before you can even make out just one upside-down name.

He gets comfy in his chair, placing your drink in the nearest empty space on the polished wood before taking a quick sip of his own. Then, he opens a drawer and retrieves a small wooden box and a pile of letters and envelopes.

Silco puts the wooden box to one side, which you presume holds the tools to make the wax seals, and places the letters and pre-marked envelopes in front of himself.

The look he gives you as he raises his head and makes eye contact with you fills your stomach with unexpected dread.

“Are you ready?” he asks gravely.

Why the fuck is he acting like you’re about to rush into battle? You’re only putting paper inside other bits of paper; what’s the worst that could happen?

“Uh… yes?” you reply with no small amount of hesitance.

“Alright. This here is what we call an envelope,” he says, holding one up like you would when showing a child. “Typically, we will fold the letter to fit the size of the envelope we intend to use. In this case, I have a size that requires simply folding the paper in half once, like so.”

You stare at him incredulously as he takes a letter, folds it neatly in half, then slides it into the envelope.

…Is this bitch really explaining envelopes to you?

“Once the letter is situated within the envelope, there is, of course, the matter of sealing it so that unwanted parties are less likely to read the contents of the letter. For this we-”

You can’t help but interrupt him as your blood begins to boil with indignation.

“Silco, I’m not a child, I know how to send a letter,” you say sharply, not bothering to hold back on the sarcasm and annoyance that bleed through your tone.

Silco’s expression contorts into one of pure melodramatic shock.

“You do? I was under the impression that Pilties had an entire body of staff to do everything for them,” he drawls, his cynical timbre plucking at the very strings of the deep rage building inside you.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to snap that you’re not a real Piltie and that you’ve done everything for yourself for as long as you can remember, until you suddenly realise that he doesn’t know you grew up in the Undercity just like him.

So your passionate and entirely stupid heart goes for the next best thing without one single approval from your rational mind.

You insult him.

“Oh, piss off,” you snap, your tone drenched in mockery instead of any malice. “At least I didn’t have to kidnap someone just to get a fucking girlfriend.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, that passionate heart instantly begins to sober up, your eyes snapping to his in shock when your brain catches up with what you’ve just said to the Eye of Zaun.

But instead of looking murderous like you expect, Silco is grinning wolfishly, allowing you to relax… marginally. No good can come from a grin as lustful as that.

His voice drops low and his eyes appear to be glimmering as he leans slightly closer to whisper huskily.

“I love it when you get all fiery; you’re like a burst of pure colour in the dark night sky.”

You feel a flushed line of red colour your throat.

Does he really mean that? Surely he prefers the nicer, ‘pretend you’ that you’d spent the past few months acting as, not the unguarded, sarcastic version of yourself that slips out every so often.

“Yes, well, teasing isn’t a very nice thing to do to your partner who is very kindly offering to help you with your work, is it?” you sniff haughtily, deflecting his compliment because you honestly have no clue how you’d even begin to accept it.

“You’re right, I do hope you’ll forgive me, my angel,” he drawls, his lips curling in amusement.

He doesn’t sound sorry in the slightest.

Silco picks up the rest of the letters and envelopes, and holds them out towards you in the air above the desk. But when you go to reach for them, he grabs your fingers with his free hand, keeping eye contact as he seductively leans down and presses a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

Now, this of course would have been an entirely sweet gesture, had he not then punctuated it with a quick, kitten lick of his tongue along your middle finger, making you jolt in surprise, as well as a flood of heat rushing through you as you imagine his tongue doing that on other places of your body…

Fuck.

You snatch the letters and envelopes from him, ignoring the blush you just know you’re sporting and childishly muttering a, “You didn’t even apologise,” to yourself as you wipe your hand on your top.

If only you could wipe away the confusing rush of feelings that were now coursing through your veins.

You can tell he’s amused and irritatingly pleased with himself by the way he’s smirking like the cat who ate the canary. It’s a real effort to just ignore him, wanting to give in to every impulsive thought that tells you to push his drink over until it spills all over his desk and onto his lap.

Luckily, as you get started matching letters to pre-written envelopes, Silco begins to focus on his own work again, but not until he’s done his fair share of openly admiring you.

Admiring himself for successfully pushing your buttons, more like.

Time passes quite quickly as you form an assembly line of folding each letter, slotting it into the matching envelope, and placing it on a pile ready for stamping. You try to surreptitiously catch glimpses of names and details of any useful information, without making it seem like you’re reading the contents of the letters.

Once you’ve done that, fortunately memorising a few random names that you hope will someday prove useful, you start on heating the wax and stamping each seal, using the tools you find in the wooden box.

It’s not long before you find yourself getting lost in thought.

If you offered to do this again, could you perhaps sneak in a letter of your own without him noticing? But the real question was, who would you send it to?

Silco had already told you he was working with the authorities, so they were out of the question. And it wasn’t like you had any real friends or family that would be willing to help you.

The Ballet Academy was a no-go as well, given Oswald’s cruel betrayal all that time ago.

Perhaps you could find out where that new chem-baron was based, the one you’d met outside of Silco’s office. What was his name again? …Otto?

Maybe getting in contact with one of the chem-barons was the way to go. You could devise a scheme with one of them ahead of your performance, which would eliminate the need for you to gather any weapons yourself…

But surely Silco would read any reply before you could even have the chance to read it yourself.

You almost jump in surprise when Silco’s hand gently comes to rest on your own, cutting off your train of thoughts. As you’re shocked back to the present, it dawns on you that you’ve just been staring into the lighter flame for an indeterminate amount of time now.

You’d gotten so lost in your thoughts, you’d simply stopped doing anything at all.

When you finally look up at Silco, his brow is furrowed and his eyes tick over your face in clear concern.

“What’s the matter, my dear?” he asks quietly. Softly.

“Nothing,” you respond with a shake of your head. “Why?”

“You look terribly pensive,” he says, almost like it’s hurting him to see you in such a state.

You desperately try to think of an excuse, one that might work to your advantage given how gentle and understanding he’s been around you these past few days. Ignoring the little itch inside you that feels bad for using his kindness against him, you come up with an idea fairly quickly.

You can feel your whole expression and body language slowly shifting as you turn on the act, carefully laying the lighter back in the wooden box. Silco looks dreadfully concerned when you finally look up at him again.

“Silco, could you ask your staff to stop ignoring me, please? It makes me feel worthless when I try to make conversation with them and they just blank me,” you say, adding a slight tremble to your voice.

Anguish fills the seafoam of his good eye, leaning forward to gently cup your jaw with his calloused palm.

“Who ignores you?” he asks, low and serious.

“Everyone. Unless they’re passing on a message from you, they all just look straight through me.”

The corner of his lips turn down, his eyes following the motion as he stares blankly at the papers on his desk, clearly thinking hard. His thumb absentmindedly traces a gentle line across your jaw and you wonder if he even knows that he’s doing it.

You’re not entirely sure what could be so puzzling about the request. And it wasn’t like it was a complete lie. It was insulting being ignored by people you saw everyday.

At its worst, it made you feel lonely. But on the more practical side, you needed people to actually speak to you if you wanted to get them on your side. Especially if you were going to escape. You’d learnt enough by now to realise that you couldn’t do it all alone.

Silco appears to be stuck in a spiral of thoughts so you try the next weapon in your arsenal: touch.

You stand up, breaking out of his hold to round the desk and perch on the edge of it, sitting right in front of him. Taking both of his hands in yours, you watch the minute tics of surprise play out on his expression while he stares at your joined hands in wonder.

“Silco, we’re courting, surely you want me to get along with your staff now that I live here with you.”

At that, he finally looks up at you from where he’s still sitting in his chair, his expression nothing short of enamoured.

“Say that again,” he begs almost breathlessly, as his mismatched eyes scan your face.

It takes an enormous amount of effort to keep the smug smile from invading your features. You knew that would get him. The older ones love it when you use terms like that.

“What? We’re courting?” you repeat innocently.

“Yes. We are,” he sighs contentedly, accompanying it with a wistful, faraway look over your shoulder, like he’s imagining you both growing old together or something equally nauseating.

You refrain from grimacing and wait impatiently for him to come to a decision, but quickly pull him from his thoughts before he can get any smart ideas.

“Silco?”

He takes a deep breath, standing up from his seat and pulling you up with him. One arm loops around your waist while the other raises so his fingers can gently weave into your hair. The unreadable expression on his face makes you worry that he’s going to deny you again but he proves you wrong the moment he opens his mouth.

“I’ll speak to my staff for you, treasure,” he promises, slowly leaning forward until he rests his forehead against yours.

Your first instinct is to close your eyes, but you fight it as your heart suddenly begins to beat faster in your chest.

Is he going to try to kiss you again?

You can’t. You can’t kiss him. Especially not with the way your arms and legs are starting to feel like jelly.

No, no, no. You can’t feel like this. You cannot react to him like this. You’re just not used to this level of attention and affection, that’s all.

“Thank you,” you whisper, daring yourself to wait just a few more seconds before pulling back from him.

You’re forced to excuse yourself, telling him that you need to get changed and begin your afternoon rehearsals in your dance studio. Surprisingly, he lets you go without any protests.

And as you swiftly walk back to your bedroom, it’s a great mental effort to block out any and all thoughts that begin to swirl through your aching brain.

No thoughts, no thoughts, no thoughts…

And definitely no feelings.

True to his word, Silco must have spoken to his staff because all of a sudden you’re greeted with a simple ‘good morning’, or at the very least an amiable nod, by everyone you cross paths with. Some of them even begin to call you by your name and you quickly jump on the chance to learn all their names too.

Besides giving you some desperately needed hope that you might finally be able to gather some allies in this gods-forsaken place, it also greatly boosts your mood. You no longer feel so isolated; a downright miracle, you think, given your situation.

A few days later, you make your way down the corridor to Silco’s office, your newly increased motivation making you more than ready to see what information you can tease from him today.

You’d come to the realisation that if you learnt more about Silco and his order of operations, you might be able to use that information against him. Whether that be through blackmail, or selling his secrets to the other chem-barons in exchange for help at the performance, or even just learning a piece of information that could be the key to your escape.

Silco had regretfully cancelled your usual lunch together because of some last minute meetings he’d been forced to endure, so you only had the one remaining chance today to see what plans you could make regarding the chem-baron performance.

But when you grasp the handle and push open the door, you’re stunned to find that nothing is set up for dinner like it normally would be.

Silco glances up when you enter the room, his whole body buzzing with annoyance until he recognises you, and a heavy, tired sort of relief sweeps over him. Then, his head snaps to look at the clock on the wall, as if your arrival has suddenly alerted him to just how late it is.

“I’m sorry, darling, I must have lost track of time,” he sighs, running a distressed hand through his hair.

“That’s okay,” you reply, trying not to feel disappointed. “I’ll just head back down to the kitchen and grab something.”

Now that you’re thinking about it, you should probably get something for him too. He most likely hasn’t eaten in a while, especially if he had meetings at lunch.

“No. Stay,” he says, as he sluggishly pulls himself to his feet and makes his way over to you. “I shouldn’t have neglected you for so long. Let me order something for the both of us.”

You’re just about to protest but by the time he arrives in front of you, the tension in his thin body makes it look like he’s about to crumble from stress. Silco carefully places a hand on your arm, his eyes wide and pleading despite the pronounced bags under his eyes.

“Alright, I’ll stay,” you tell him, smiling at him warmly.

It appears to melt some of the stress as he relaxes with a sigh that borders on the line of being shaky. The hand on your bicep strokes down your arm tenderly before he reluctantly breaks away to go to the door.

You hear him giving instructions to the guard while you grab your book from the shelf and get yourself comfy on the sofa.

A part of you feels a little bit bad that he’s so tired and worked up. Something must have happened to cause such an abrupt increase in workload like this.

But the driven, determined-to-escape part of you is focused on the potential for blackmail. Maybe he’ll be more likely to open up to you more in this vulnerable state.

Once he’s finished giving his orders, Silco closes the door and crosses the room to no doubt chip away at more work before the food arrives. And as he slumps back into his chair, you refrain from asking him how his day has been.

You want to wait until he’s too tired to even think about what he’s saying.

Turning away from him so you can’t cave in to your impulses, you only get halfway down the next page in your book when the door opens again, revealing a visibly annoyed Sevika. She hovers in the doorway, seemingly not wanting to even step foot in the lion’s den.

Your gaze bounces back and forth between Silco’s stony expression and Sevika’s stubborn one, morbidly wondering who is going to win the intense staring contest.

Oh, who are you kidding? The lion wins, of course.

“Otto has… requested another meeting,” she announces gravely when Silco’s scowl deepens minutely, indicating he’s run out of patience with the short-lived game.

A muscle tics in Silco’s jaw and he grinds out one, pestilent word.

“No.”

“He’s waiting outside. Says he won’t leave until you see him,” Sevika continues, taking on the air of a messenger who really does not want to get shot.

“I’m busy,” he retorts. It’s said without any emotion, but you can tell by the twitch in his good eye that he’s really irritated.

Unfortunately, Sevika either doesn’t realise this, or just doesn’t care.

“Seriously, boss, he won’t shut up about-”

You nearly jump out of your skin when Silco slams one hand on the wood of his desk.

“He can sleep on the fucking floor of the club for all I care, I am not seeing anyone else today,” he yells, in a rough voice that you’ve never heard him use before. “Now, get out of my sight.”

For a few, strained moments, you think that Sevika is going to yell back, but she appears to rein it in before curling her lip into a snarl. She slams the door shut with a heavy thud that rattles the door frame.

You can practically taste the charged air as you and Silco sit in silence, your lips pulled into a thin line while Silco stares at the door with an expression that seems to be a mixture of strain, anxiety, and pure murder.

He doesn’t even look at you as he abruptly stands from his chair, the motion sending it rolling back in a half-circle. Then, he takes carefully measured steps to his bedroom door, opening it stiffly and entering the room like he’s one wrong move from completely exploding.

You wait for three long seconds before pulling yourself to stand.

Deep down you know you’re not scared of his anger anymore, but you also can’t just leave him when he’s so upset, so you reluctantly follow him into the bedroom.

And as you peer into the darkened room, you find him sitting on the edge of his bed, dark mop of hair hanging down as his head rests in those large palms of his. The door creaks a little when you push on it, alerting him to your presence so as not to startle him.

He doesn’t move an inch.

You cross the room with an inaudible sigh and gently sit down next to him on the bed, waiting for him to work through whatever’s going on in his head.

“I apologise that you had to witness that,” Silco tells you after a few quiet moments, his voice strained and tight.

It’s only because you know he can’t see you that you allow yourself to roll your eyes. You watched him choke out a man only days ago and he’s worried you’re upset because he shouted at someone?

“I… I don’t want to accidentally take out my frustrations on you, darling,” he stresses, his hands clenching against the side of his head.

The statement shocks you a little bit. Your husband would never have said something like that. Something so caring and mindful of your wellbeing.

Your brow furrows as you examine Silco’s posture of utter distress. What’s worse, the inside of your lip is then promptly bitten when you notice that it’s making your heart squeeze in your own mirrored distress.

You sigh quietly.

Why does he have to be so thoughtful? Why couldn’t he just make it easy for you to hate him?

“Silco,” you breathe, slowly and gently placing your hand on his shoulder. “I really appreciate you not taking it out on me, but it’s okay to feel frustrated.”

He doesn’t respond to your attempts to validate him, so you wordlessly motion for him to lie back on the sheets with you. To your surprise, he allows you to guide him backwards to the middle of the bed until you’re both comfortably lying on your sides, facing each other.

Then, you surprise yourself when your arms slowly wrap around his thin frame, pulling him against you in a comforting hug. Your legs naturally tangle together, only coming to rest when you’re both comfy in each other’s embrace.

It’s not until you begin to stroke his back with easy, soothing motions that he goes completely boneless against you, releasing a deep and heavy sigh.

“Why don’t we both take a break for the rest of this evening, hmm?” you mumble calmingly against his sternum.

Silco tightens his arms around you like he doesn’t want to ever let go.

“I’m afraid I can’t take the rest of the evening off,” he replies, just as quietly.

You open your mouth to argue when he continues. “However, if I finish the bulk of this paperwork tonight, I will have time to take you out somewhere pleasant tomorrow morning. Just the two of us.”

Well, you’re not going to say no to going somewhere outside The Drop, even if it is with him and more than likely an entourage of guards as well.

“That sounds lovely, Sil,” you tell him, squeezing your own arms around him in a quick, acknowledging hug.

He sighs again and pulls you even closer, tucking your head beneath his chin. For a second, you think he kisses the top of your head, but it’s so featherlight, it could have just been a brush of air.

Convincing yourself that it was nothing more than another exhalation, you’re just about to start asking questions to glean some useful information from him when he shifts slightly and exhales in one long breath.

But within it, he speaks a heart-wrenching question in a timbre so low, you’re not entirely sure you’re meant to hear it.

“What would I do without you?”

You can’t help the way your heart pangs at the raw vulnerability of it, and it makes you falter enough to hold your tongue.

What is he going to do when you’re gone? And why does that make you feel so… unsettled?

The new emotion throws you for a loop, so you lay there for a little while longer, just quietly holding one another while your brain runs on overtime. It feels like barely any time has passed at all by the time your food is ready and delivered to Silco’s office, so you both get up to eat, resuming your usual routine.

Once you’re finished, Silco insists that he’ll be okay for the rest of the evening, so you return to your room alone, wondering what the hell possessed you to comfort him like that. To abandon your plans of manipulation and extortion for a rare moment of compassion.

It doesn’t take you long before you’re convincing yourself that it was necessary in selling the lie that you’re his loving girlfriend, who cares about him and his well being. That you’re getting strategically closer to him until you have enough information about him to strike.

But you can’t shake the odd feeling in your chest no matter how much you tell yourself it’s all fake.

The next morning, instead of completing your daily stretches in your studio, you get dressed for a trip out, not knowing where Silco has planned to visit.

He keeps tight-lipped as you walk through the club arm-in-arm, but he can’t keep the little, excited smirk from his scarred lips. In the carriage, you pester him with questions until he relents and tells you that it’s somewhere he found in his youth.

Well, the words he actually uses are ‘broke into’ but, you know, it’s the thought that counts.

It takes less time to arrive at your mystery destination than you were expecting and before you know it, you’re climbing out of the carriage to find yourself at a row of shops only metres away from the bridge to Piltover. A knot in your throat, you forbid yourself from even looking across the River, lest it ruin your mood entirely.

He ushers you quickly into a quaint little flower shop, a line of guards following you in whilst two stay outside.

You’re surprised to see that there’s no other customers in such a beautiful store, but it quickly crosses your mind that Silco probably paid the owners a considerable amount to close the business for you both, so there would be no risk of anyone seeing you.

Once inside, Silco takes your hand in his and leads you up the rickety stairs where you discover a beautiful rooftop garden, filled with a kaleidoscope of flowers and plants. Ivy covers the trellis walls and each path between the rows of greenery are lined with smooth cobblestones.

It truly is a hidden gem to the darkened city that lies beneath it.

You spend the next hour or so looking at all the vibrant flora in turn, having to hold Silco back from trying to buy you every single flower that you say you like the look of.

Talk comes surprisingly easy as you slowly walk up and down each row, gazing at the beautiful wildlife together. A strange light feeling sits within your chest and Silco holds your hand pretty much the entire time.

When you’ve finished looking at each of the plants, he leads you to a bench and produces another picnic basket for you to share some lunch.

Truthfully, you’d been hoping he’d agree to take you to a café, having not been to one in months now. But he’d told you that it would have been too risky, which you infer to mean that any nice café would be somewhere visited by Pilties and therefore people more likely to recognise you.

That particular pipe dream out the window, you resolve to enjoy your morning as much as you can as you sit on the bench gazing peacefully at the myriad flowers on display.

Remarkably, you find it rather easy to not get caught up in your thoughts, simply appreciating the fresh air and the quiet.

Just being out and taking a break from the usual routine is honestly refreshing. It almost reminds you of the night you’d spent with Silco on the mezzanine of the club… up until the point you’d gotten blackout drunk, of course.

Next to you, Silco shifts a little until his leg is pressed flush against yours, so you turn to look up at him. As expected, he’s already looking at you. But what you don’t expect, is the look of pure captivation spread across his features, like he’s completely enamoured as he gazes at your face.

You break out into a confused smile, your head shaking slightly in a questioning motion, because you’re not even doing anything. All you’ve done for the past few minutes is sit quietly and stare into space, but Silco is peering down at you like you’ve just promised him the moon.

You’re just about to ask him why he’s looking at you so intensely, when he squeezes your hand, and speaks in the most reverent and soothing tone you’ve ever heard from him.

“I love you.”

It feels like a bolt of lightning has just torn through your chest.

Sweet Janna.

That was somehow much more powerful than the last time he said it. Much more honest and personal. And heartfelt, like it was the most casual, straightforward concept he’s ever known.

Somewhere within you, you know you should be trying to use this to your advantage, exploiting him rather than desperately trying to figure out how it makes you feel. But you’re too distracted by the feeling of your heart thudding in your chest and the racing journey your mind has embarked on.

You have no idea what it all means, why you’re reacting so viscerally.

You definitely don’t love him. You’re not entirely sure you even like him.

But gods, does he make you feel so confused and upside-down and like you’re drifting out to sea when he speaks to you like this.

“I- uh, I…” you stutter, unsure how to respond.

Silco gently holds your cheek, guiding you to look at the small, understanding smile on his lips.

“It’s okay, darling. You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know how I feel,” he reassures you, so softly and gently.

When you’d first locked eyes with the Eye of Zaun across that museum gallery, you would never in a million years have thought he’d be capable of something like this.

A question pops into your head before you can stop it.

Can love change a person for the better?

Could love change you for the better?

The jolting thought feels akin to stripping back a layer of your soul, especially when you lock eyes with him once more, your expression dropping as you suddenly feel incredibly vulnerable in front of him.

Whatever Silco is thinking causes him to mirror your expression, his whole demeanour falling into something terribly raw in a matter of milliseconds.

Then, he begins to lean forward slowly, his eyes never once leaving yours as his lips get closer.

You force yourself to stop him, a flutter of panic rushing through your veins.

If you kiss him, you’ll be giving a piece of yourself away to him, and you honestly don’t know if you could turn back if he owns even just that small sliver of you.

You place a hand on his chest, halting his movements.

“Sorry,” you blurt out, a little too breathlessly for your liking. “I don’t kiss before marriage.”

It’s a cynical little deflection and you know it. But it’s also a means of self-protection.

Automatically, you expect anger, or at the very least frustration, so you prepare yourself for it when you lean back to view his expression in its entirety. Instead, you’re greeted with another tiny, little curl of his lips.

“Alright,” he says, a soft hint of amusement lining his words.

You blink. Then his meaning dawns on you.

“Wait, what?”

His smile grows a bit wider, almost evolving into a smirk. Silco uses one hand to push himself up from the bench and the other to reach into his coat pocket. Your eyes dart to the little black box that appears in his hand and a new wave of panic races through you.

Without thinking, you grab onto his arm and pull him to sit back down on the bench with a bouncing thud, before he can even think about getting down on one knee. Your fingers dig into his forearm as you clutch onto him tightly.

“Please tell me you’re not proposing,” you say desperately, your whole body heating up at the very idea.

Silco chuckles, gently prising your fingers from where they press into his arm and lifting them to plant a quick, chaste kiss on the back of your hand.

“Not yet, my lovely. When I do propose, I want it to be perfect.”

You bite the inside of your lip, hoping he can’t read what it really means.

Fuck, you really didn’t want to marry another old man. At least, not one you weren’t actively manipulating for money.

Unaware of your inner turmoil, Silco hands you the box and you look at it with barely masked trepidation. The hinges of the box creak gently as you slowly open it, finding a necklace laid carefully on a piece of black velvet, to your immense relief.

No engagement ring, thank fuck.

Looped through a delicate silver chain is a dainty, little star charm, lined with tiny gems so shiny, the daylight peeking through the flowered roof of trellises bounces off them.

You have to stifle your gasp of wonder. You’d been gifted plenty of nice necklaces in your time living Topside, but you’d never been gifted one with sentiment.

How did he know you have a fascination with stars?

Silco carefully observes your reaction, but it isn’t until you meet his burning gaze that he puts a gentle hand on your knee.

“You are the light of my life; brighter than any shooting star in our vast galaxy,” he rasps. “I want you to remember that every time you wear this necklace. I want you to always be reminded of how much I love you.”

You sit in dumbstruck awe as he takes the necklace out of the box and unclasps it. It almost feels too natural as you go through the motions of turning to face away from him so he can gently sweep your hair to one side.

Silco reaches over your right shoulder and then the left to catch and place the necklace against your sternum, re-fastening the clasp until it sits comfortably just above your collarbone. But instead of pulling away like you expect, one hand smooths down the side of your ribcage as he presses a lingering kiss to the exposed skin above your shoulder.

You hate the way you have to fight against the shiver your body threatens to produce as he does.

This is all so unfair. All so messed-up. He’s both metaphorically and quite literally putting you in chains, slowly weaving you further and further into his web, despite how desperately you try to fight it.

And if you hate how your body is reacting, you absolutely detest the way your heart seems to think this is, if not a bit cheesy, actually a little bit romantic.

The thought startles you, your eyes snapping wide open just as they were starting to get heavy-lidded.

You’re getting in far too deep. You need to get out before he completely brainwashes you. Before you sink even deeper under his dark, sirenic spell.

Another week passes, but your confused feelings stay, no matter how much you try to focus on escaping. The battle between your ruthless determination to leave and your base instinct to be cherished grows more difficult with every passing day.

It’s not helped any further when Silco pops his head around the door of your studio one morning asking you to visit him in his office when you’ve finished stretching. An unusual request, made infinitely more unusual when he tells you to bring along some pointe shoes as well.

So, pointe shoes in hand, you make your way down the corridor to his office wondering just what the hell this enigmatic man could be planning now. Perhaps he’d gotten impatient and wanted a demonstration of what you’d choreographed so far. Or maybe he wanted another ‘lesson’, especially after he’d expressed his desire for you to teach him how to dance.

But why would he want you to dance in his office after commissioning you a brand new, custom built dance studio?

By the time you’ve reached his office door, you’ve imagined countless different reasons, all of which you shake from your head with a quick rap of your knuckles on the smooth wood. It’s a formality more than anything because you don’t wait to be granted entry, immediately pulling open the door and stepping into the emerald-soaked room.

Silco is already looking up at you by the time you shut the door with a careful click.

“Sweetheart,” he greets warmly from his desk.

“Silco,” you respond with a polite nod, entirely at odds with your subtly coy tone.

He gets up from his chair as you take a step further into the room, finding yourself overcome by a sudden bout of nerves, stemming from the fact that you don’t actually know what he’s got planned for you. So you decide to break the ice with some good old fashioned, harmless flirting.

It’s normal to only start flirting with your partner when you’re months into a relationship, right?

“So, where do you want me?” you ask coquettishly.

Silco smirks from where he stands in front of his desk before a husky growl leaves his lips, leaning forward in anticipation with the salacious word.

“Everywhere.”

You huff a breath of laughter, surprised by how easily you’re flirting with someone you once feared more than anyone else in Runeterra. But the easy feeling is short-lived because Silco abruptly turns and stalks into his bedroom without another word.

Your face drops as you stay rooted to the spot.

Shit, why did you have to say that? This is not the time to address all those puzzling feelings you’ve desperately been trying to shake ever since he’d confessed his love for you.

To your immense relief, Silco emerges a few moments later, holding out in front of him what is, without a doubt, the most beautiful costume you’ve ever seen. Immediately you recognise all the little details that you’d designed in the sketches you’d shared with Silco.

You can’t help the way your jaw goes a little slack as you take it all in.

The whole costume is a haunting pearly white, giving it the air of a ghostly, dreamlike dress. The hard bodice is subtly decorated with delicate lines of pearls, whilst the tulle skirt is long enough to flow all the way down to your calves, in the style of a Romantic tutu instead of the Classic short style that is commonly associated with ballerinas.

Of course, the eerie design had been deliberate. Your muse when designing both the choreography and the costume had been the ballet Giselle; a tragic tale of a young peasant girl who dies of a broken heart and is resurrected as a ghost, joining a collection of spectral, unwedded brides, who rise from their graves at night to tempt and kill any young men who wander too close.

Your grisly choice of story had been entirely defiant. Stubborn to the end.

Partly, you’d just been very drawn to the haunting aesthetic of the unwed spirits. But a part of it was you boldly stating that you’ll never be as foolish as Giselle is in the story. You’ll never die of a broken heart and you’ll certainly never give yourself so wholly to a man who will eventually betray you.

In your eyes, you relate much more heavily to those vengeful brides, the ones who will kill any man who gets too close to them, who try to hurt them. Those spectres that force men to literally dance until their death, when their exhausted bodies and minds can take no more.

That is what you were imagining when you first began to craft your performance for the chem-barons. And seeing that creation become real in front of your eyes is almost ground-breaking for you.

But despite seeing your muse come to life, you can’t ignore the little whispers inside you that quietly tell you that your vision no longer fits. Silco is no longer just a black-and-white villain, like he was in the beginning. He’s something more now.

Something you’re not ready to address.

You can’t shake the feeling that it all feels wrong now.

“Silco,” you whisper shakily, as you stare at the costume in his hands. “It’s… it’s perfect.”

“You designed it, my love, it’s only perfect because your wonderful mind willed it to be,” he replies, bringing you back to the present.

It’s not until he speaks that you almost crash into the realisation that if the costume is ready, the performance is likely to be very soon.

You bite your lip nervously.

You’re not ready, you don’t have a plan yet, you don’t have any weapons, or allies, or escape routes.

You’re not ready, you need more time, you-

“Will you try it on for me, darling? If it needs altering, I’ll have to send it back to the tailor,” Silco asks gently.

“Yeah, sure,” you mumble, still distracted by your racing mind.

You walk towards him and carefully take the dress in your other hand, pointe shoes still hanging down by your side as you hold them by the ribbons. Silco kindly gestures towards his bedroom, so you go in and set the costume down on the bed before closing the door to get changed.

It doesn’t take you too long to put on the costume, as well as the tights and jewellery Silco had left on his bed, and the pointe shoes you’d brought with you of course.

With a quick look in Silco’s floor length mirror, you’re satisfied enough to exit the bedroom, finding him perched on the edge of his desk waiting for you.

The expression that is slowly unveiled on his face as he drinks in the sight of you is enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

No-one has ever looked at you like this before. Like you’re the incandescent Northern Lights in his dark, shadowy world.

He looks like he’s in complete, love-struck awe.

You slowly walk towards him, willing your limbs to stop trembling when you finally stop in front of him, a few steps away so he can look at the whole costume.

After a beat, Silco pushes to stand from the desk, but he doesn’t move any closer. He just stares, his lips parted and his eyes full of pure wonder.

Feeling like you’re about to burst from the building tension in the air, you begin to turn slowly, letting him see the whole outfit. As you do, you can’t help but notice that it fits you really well.

The tailor that Silco hired had done a fantastic job, especially considering you’d only met the small, elderly man for the briefest amount of time in your dance studio. Of course, it hadn’t helped that Silco had scowled at the poor man the whole time he’d been taking your measurements, and had practically growled when he’d tried to measure the inseam of your leg, all but shoving him out the room.

Honestly, you’re surprised the costume fits at all since the tailor had definitely not been given the chance to take all the measurements he’d needed.

Silco carefully steps forward from the desk until he’s in your personal space. Then, he begins to run his long hands over the costume reverently. His fingers trace the pearls on your bodice, slowly travelling up and down the hard material that shifts with every shallow movement of your ribcage.

A flush of heat spreads across your upper chest at his touch, causing you to take in a deep, slow breath. Silco’s eyes catch yours at the sound and it only serves to fan the flames.

“You are beautiful,” he rasps, his voice full of barely restrained desire, “Enchanting. Ethereal.”

You’re forced to hold in an unexpected gasp when he sinks to his knees in front of you, finger tips trailing down the long skirt until he gently grasps the hem between two fingers.

His gaze meets yours once again and you instantly feel as if you’re going to melt into a puddle, heat pooling at the apex of your thighs.

It’s like you’re a god. The devil himself on his knees worshipping you, his seafoam eye a divine mixture of carnal lust and sacred reverence.

“Silco,” you whisper shakily, a wave of emotions rapidly spreading through you.

Gods, what is he doing to you? Why do you feel so… so torn?

How does he just know exactly what to say and do to make you doubt everything you’ve ever known?

It almost makes you feel bad that you’re planning on doing something terrible while wearing it for real. Bad enough for you to really consider what outcome you actually want for the fated performance.

Legs stretched out, one crossed over the other as he leans back on the edge of his desk, Silco stares breathlessly at the office door that you’ve just exited through.

He can’t get the image of you out of his head. That dress and the way it accentuated all your beautiful curves. The devastating way you’d looked at him. And gods, the way you’d said his name.

When Silco had first found you up on that stage, he’d been sure that his admiration for you could never grow any deeper. But now, he feels like he’s falling harder with each passing day.

Now, he knows that what he feels for you is love. Richer, still as all consuming as those first days of pure, unadulterated obsession, but now that feeling grips his soul too instead of just his body.

A loud thud on the desk behind him sounds through the office, but Silco doesn’t flinch. He’d heard his daughter entering via the rafters minutes before, just after you’d said his name in a way he’d been utterly desperate to hear for months now.

It’s also why he hadn’t attempted to kiss you or touch you any further, despite every nerve in his body practically screaming for it. Instead, he’d stood back up and deliberately asked you to rehearse your routine in costume a few times before returning it to him at dinner.

Originally, Silco had been awfully frustrated and borderline furious that you were taking so long to accept his advances to kiss you. But now, with his newly realised love for you, he finds himself slowly coming to accept that it might take a bit more time.

And surprisingly, he’s okay with that. No, he’s more than okay with it if it means you feel comfortable and secure in his presence.

Silco recognises that this is no longer the time to contemplate those sorts of feelings and urges, temporarily switching it off because he can hear Jinx begin to fidget with his eye injector behind him.

She’s tellingly quiet, and Silco lets her be, allowing her to process whatever it is she’s thinking and trying to articulate.

“Who is she? Why is she here?” she asks finally, in a tone that is undoubtedly accusatory, but he can spot the hurt she’s trying to hide.

Silco stands from the desk and walks back around to his chair, waiting until he’s sat back down to analyse her mannerisms and facial expressions. With no instant response, she continues, moving her legs from their casual crossed position to being hugged by her tattooed arms.

“You’ve changed. Ever since she got here, you’ve…” she trails off for a moment, probably searching for a way to not reveal what she’s really feeling. “You’re just different.”

Without asking, Silco knows what she really means. She feels left out.

It’s been only them for so long now and she’s worried that he’ll suddenly give up on her. Like he ever could.

“Pumpkin, she’s not here to replace you. You are my daughter and you will always be my daughter, no matter what,” he reassures her, placing his hand on the desk a few inches away from her leg.

He knows the signs when she’s feeling too rattled to even endure a gentle hand on her shoulder, so he doesn’t push it.

Jinx frowns, staring down at the injector she keeps fiddling with, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

“You didn’t answer me. Why is she here?”

Silco tries not to inhale and exhale too loudly, lest she interpret it as him being frustrated with her. He’s not. He just struggles to discuss his love life with anyone, let alone his teenage daughter.

But she keeps asking and it’s clearly affecting her, so he tries to be honest with her. If only to convince her that this change by your arrival is a positive one, and not one that he means to upset her with.

“Jinx, child,” he says candidly. “She’s here because I’m in love with her.”

Of course, she looks utterly shocked by his confession. And then, in her confusion, her lips curl into distaste, her words turning hurtful because she doesn’t understand what it means to love someone like that, so she lashes out instead.

“She doesn’t love you back, you know,” she retorts flatly. In a matter of fact.

Silco’s good eye blinks slowly and he purses his lips as he leans back in his chair.

“She’s getting there,” he sighs eventually, slowly raising his head to gaze up at the rafters. “She’s getting there.”

PART 9

A/N: Giselle has been my favourite classic ballet since I was 8 and my favourite modern ballet is Christopher Wheeldon’s Alice in Wonderland, if anyone’s interested!! If you have a favourite ballet, let me know! -el x

Taglist: @pinkrose1422 @ursawastricked

#silco #silco x reader #silco x f!reader #silco x you #silco fic #silco arcane #part 8

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lullabyes22-blog · 3 months

Text

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO - Ch: 22 - Sumpside Waltz (Part I)

Snippet:

For Piltover, the Sumpside Waltz once ranked at the top of the banned list.

Brewed up in the Undercity's raunchiest cabarets, the concoction was potent and addictive. It represented the counterculture that began sweeping the Fissures before the Day of Ash: hangovers of class, sexuality and respectability swept aside in the hot liquor of rebellion. It was denounced from the Piltovan pulpits as pernicious, and censured by newspaper editorials as corrupting.

Its steps were improvised rather than codified. It involved lewd degrees of physical contact. It consisted of whirligigs that gave way to loose-limbed giddiness. The first set was foreplay in motion: one partner, with cunning skill and devilish grace, taking the other by surprise, and then by storm. The second, the reverse: a slow, seductive surrender, where the lead gave up control, allowing the other to take charge: a sensuous assertion, then an insinuating answer, all at once.

The climax of the set was the act itself: an erotic tussle in three-quarter time.

Its high point came with the unfurling of the metaphoric 'white flag'—a strip of cloth, typically a lady's sash, or a gentleman's scarf—wound around the partner's neck, or their hips, and slid back and forth in the beat of the dance. It signaled the symbolic surrender: the final barrier between dancers fallen to the fever-pitch of consummation.

In Zaunite dialect, the message was straightforward: Let's fuck.

Naturally, Piltover was appalled. For generations, the Sumpside Waltz remained the proverbial forbidden fruit. And yet, it was the perfect antidote against the staid, stuffy standards of the gentry's ballrooms. Beneath their scandal, the bon ton found themselves perpetually captivated. While the dance never transitioned to respectable Topside quarters, it was wildly popular among the younger crowd. Even as elders deplored the spread of depravity, their scions slummed it up in Undercity saloons, reveling in the gyrations. Soon, they'd imported the style back to their own clubs, mixing and matching it with Piltovan steps.

The inevitable result was that the Piltovan and Zaunite Sumpside Waltz differed as starkly as everything else about the cities. For Piltover, the Zaunite version was too provocative, while for Zaun, the Piltovans' was overly refined.

Neither side relented.

The dance floor is all sequins and satin. A galaxy in motion. Jinx, shiny and tousle-haired from her exertions, has vacated to the banquet. Magnus lays coiled around her feet. She sits, elbow propped on the table, chin resting on her palm as she picks with a fork at a cherry tart, spreading the red gel onto her plate like congealed blood. She is smiling absently, her gaze unfocused.

Silco attempts to catch her eye. She doesn't react. He hopes it's just tiredness—not ghosts.

At his side, Medarda says, "Shall we begin?"

Silco offers his hand. She takes it. He tugs, a graceful revolution that fits her into the curve of his arm, then guides her into the sparkling swelter of the dance floor. The band strikes up the beginning strains: a lilting melody of piano and strings.

Silco and Medarda move smoothly in the promenade that presages the first set. At the fringes, reporters jostle for good angles. Flashbulbs pop and history is made. Piltover's crown jewel and Zaun's dirtiest secret coming together on the world stage.

"We have two choices," Silco says, their faces within kissing distance. "Make this enjoyable for the cameras. Or make it enjoyable for us."

The music begins its intro: the pulsebeat of bass and the tremor of percussion.

Medarda tips her chin. "Which is which?"

"The former? Topside's waltz. Sanitized. Soporific." He leads her onto the first steps, a decorous spiral. Their bodies do not touch. "The latter? Zaun's waltz. Not sanitized at all."

Amusement skims Medarda's features. "Is the unsanitary so enjoyable?"

Silco doesn't smile. But the next spiral takes them close enough that he feels the heat radiating off her, like a haze at the summer horizon.

His mouth finds her ear and whispers. "Come closer. I'll show you."

Medarda breathes, not-quite-steadily.

And nods.

AO3 - Forward, But Never Forget/XOXO

FFnet - Forward, But Never Forget (XOXO)

Playlists, Fanarts & Meta

Summary: Zaun is free—and must grow into its unfamiliar new dimensions. So must Silco and Jinx. A what-if that diverges midway through the events of episode 8. Found family and fluff, politics and power, smut and slice-of-life, villainy and vengeance.

Tagging List:

@the-blue-quetzalcoatl @frostybearpaws @klorophile @kothelina @lilyreira @hannibalcatharsis @tiredblueann @typewriteringalaxy @theillestofomens @erikadarleyensis @testsubject24601 @elviriel @inconspicuouspotatosack @heroinejinx @aliaa-j @zaunite-leo @silcodependent @karnaca78 @aeolid-funkt @me-and-my-hyperfixations @yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy @medic-simp @cthezaunite @evren-d @flower-of-zaun @villainsidechick @spoczkotszcz @realitycanbewhateveridesire @opheliawillowbrook @nogurlstoy @mj678 @revelisms @shahs1221 @gingersforeverbox @inkshine @silcosmoke @ravenkinnie @letters-to-rosie @lbulldesigns @slavicbeastie @constantfragmentation @danally20 @thatlonelyweeb

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ilikereadingthisiswhatilike · 4 months

Text

(X) = Smut

Your welcome cupcake. @purplegrapevines Summary: You are enemies who in fall love. Warnings: None Special Tags: None

Nightmare @the-faceless-bride Summary: Vi has a nightmare, but she also has you to calm her down. Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping Special Tags: None

Kiss the girl in black @sunricecake Summary: what was supposed to be a fun memory of your first tattoo session with your lover turned out to be unforgettable for all the wrong reasons. Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Sexual Tension. Specials Tags: None

Bottoms Up @sleepyangelkami Summary: vampire!reader hasn't been able to drink blood in what felt like forever. luckily for her, vi's there with open arms and an outstretched wrist. Warnings: None Special Tag: Fluff

Personal Trainer @angelltheninth Summary: Vi is your personal trainer Warnings: None Special Tag: Fluff

Sisters @lolita-lollipop Summary: You are the baby of the family and most affected by Vi leaving. Warnings: Family Issues, Mental Health Issues Special Tag: None

Run away @pathetic-sapphic Summary: You run away Warnings: None Special Tags: Head con

Toxic @pathetic-sapphic Summary: You see how toxic they can be. Warnings: None Special Tags: Head con

Good girl @purplegrapevines (X) Summary: Your fresh meat. Warnings: None Special Tags: Cellmate AU

Bottom @viismyworld (X) Summary: Vi riding Reader's thigh let's go Warnings: None Special Tags: None

Can't talk any more. @purplegrapevines (X) Summary: Vi fucks you so hard you forget how to talk. Warnings: None Special Tags: None

She all you need right? @purplegrapevines (X) Summary: Dating Vi is hard. You love each other more than anything, but her brutal past makes her overprotective of you Warnings: Toxic Special Tags: Bondage

Roommate @pixievi (X) Summary: You are in love with your roommate and she in love with you. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Solo, Ear drooping

Lock Jaw @genacity (X) Summary: after coming home from a long day of work, your darling girlfriend vi surprises you with some gourmet chocolate. a sweet affection laced with something she thinks she’ll get away with, little does she know that you know her all too well. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Sub Vi

lingerie @pathetic-sapphic (X) Summary: You wear lingerie Warnings: None Special Tags: Lingerie, Head con

Could Be a Better Boyfriend Than Him @ceruleanangel Summary: Vi feels a little jealous after one of your performances and decides to show you what's her's Warnings: None Special Tag: None

The Diamond of Zaun @ceruleanangel Summary: During your performance you see a ghost in the crowed. Warnings: None Special Tag: Mutil Part, Performer AU

#x reader #reading fanfiction #reading list #reading recommendations #fanfic recommendation #vi arcane #vi league of legends #vi x reader

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