#silco eats bees

[q8qwertyuiop8p]

Babe pls stop eating the bees 🙏

[mybelovedfleur]

,,𝐵𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶" 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝐼

(Yandere!Silco x Amnesiac!Fem!Reader)

!TW! FantasyAU! Heavy Yandere Themes, Silco is ooc for sure, vomiting, sick!reader, violence, mention of death, violence, dark yandere, I will tag every chapter seperately! :)

Description: ,, A series of unfortunate events causes you to completely lose your memory. Now, you find yourself thrust into the role of the Duchess of Zaun, married to a man you don’t recognize. But was this ever truly your life? And why does the scent of blood cling to you, no matter where you go? "

Note: english is NOT my first language, I am very much open for critique and suggestions but pls be nice and respectful :c I DO NOT support any of these behaviors!

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

Silco leaned over you, concern in his eyes, as if the slightest sign of your pain hurt him just as much. He carefully adjusted the pillow so that you could comfortably rest your injured head on it.

"Do you feel worse? Should I get a doctor?" he whispered with tension in his voice, the trembling note betraying how much he cared about your health.

You haven't shown the slightest interest in leaving your bed all morning - a completely different behavior from your determination yesterday.

No wonder Silco noticed it right away. Seeing that you didn't even try to get up to eat breakfast, he became clearly worried. From that moment on, he constantly circled you like a tireless bee, trying to help you in every way possible. Instead of comforting you, his excessive concern began to irritate you - it was the first time he seemed so burdensome. You were overwhelmed by the dark memories of the nightmare that still weighed on your mind, and Silco didn't give you a moment's respite to simply delve into your own thoughts.

,,I feel like I always do, I just don't have the strength. It's nothing serious" you said, finally trying to calm him down. But Silco didn't look convinced. His gaze wandered over your body, as if stubbornly searching for something that could betray you

,,I have an important meeting today... " he whispered under his breath, clearly to himself, but you heard it clearly. You didn't have time to say anything, because his gaze fell roght back on your face.

,, It doesn't matter" he said in a confident tone, his voice firm" I'll stay with you"

If you had more strength, and the wound on the back of your head wasn't throbbing with irritating pain, you would have surely jumped up.

"No, please..." you said pleadingly, staring at him. "I don't want to be a burden again. You hardly leave my side anyway"

Silco froze for a moment, as if your words had hurt him more than he would like to admit. When he finally spoke, his tone was unexpectedly serious.

"Don't ever say that again" he said firmly.

You sighed, feeling the weight of guilt gripping your heart."I just don't want to stop you," you began quietly, struggling to gather your thoughts. 

"I want to prove to both of us that I can handle myself, even in times like these. If you go to this meeting... I'll be truly happy"

Silco stood up and began to pace nervously around the room, you could almost hear the grinding of his teeth. His hand involuntarily went to the scarred side of his face, which he rubbed as if trying to quell the growing frustration. You waited tensely, holding your breath, wondering if your words had angered him.

"The servants are well trained" he finally said, his voice full of reluctance, as if each word was difficult for him. "They know what to do. Don't hesitate to send for me if something happens, or if you simply need me."

His gaze finally met yours.

"I'll drop everything and come to you" he added with such intensity that you had no doubts about the sincerity of his words.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─ 

It wasn't like you hadn't noticed the estate workers before – they were there, but rather like shadows moving in the background, silently carrying out your husband's orders. They were the ones who helped you with more intimate activities, such as changing or washing. Although it made things easier for you, you quickly noticed that Silco approached this matter with clear reluctance.

When you first asked for a new nightgown and the opportunity to wash up, he fulfilled your wish almost immediately. However, his reaction to this request exceeded your expectations - before you knew it, he was already filling the bathtub with water, sitting you on the stool next to it. When with unwavering determination he wanted to help you take off your clothes, you felt your face immediately turn red like a beetroot.

Embarrassed, you calmly asked him to let you do it yourself. His expression was hard to read - as if he was fighting with his thoughts. From that moment on, he waited for you outside the bathroom door, visibly anxious and even outraged whenever one of the servants helped you with something that he felt should have been his role.

 Now, you had a real chance to make contact with them, maybe even have a short conversation. Up until now, everything you knew about your life had come from Silco's mouth. His stories, while very romantic, were undoubtedly tinged with his feelings, perhaps even idealized – which was no surprise, considering the way he was devoted to his role as your loving husband.

The prospect of hearing something about yourself from an outsider, someone who wasn't emotionally attached to you, seemed almost exciting. It could be a chance to look at your life from a different perspective – and perhaps discover something new about yourself.

You were being looked after by three women: two middle-aged and one clearly younger. They were all dressed in impeccably ironed black uniforms that emphasized their professionalism. They moved around you with mechanical precision – their movements were so perfect and synchronized that they almost resembled some sort of machines. Silco wasn't exaggerating when he said that they were highly trained.

 Your ambitious plans to start a conversation didn't go so well at first. You were too nervous, and their distant attitude only increased your embarrassment.

It was only when the younger girl was left alone in the room to change the sheets on the bed that you felt it was the right moment to speak up. So you broke through, saying the first words

"What's your name?" you asked, trying to make your voice sound natural, although you yourself felt slightly embarrassed. The girl, noticeably surprised, stopped for a moment, as if wondering what she should do, whether to answer you at all.

 A moment of silence passed, which seemed to last forever, before finally, with a nervousness in her voice, she answered

"Erin, my lady"  she somehow radiated a warmth that immediately worked in your favor, and you felt your self-confidence begin to grow.

"Erin" you repeated. 

You noticed how the girl visibly relaxed, and a delicate, almost shy smile appeared on her face.

"Tell me, how long have you been working here?" she put down the pillow she was working on and finally turned her full attention to you.

"Only a month, Ma'am" she replied. As soon as you heard her words, you sighed with resignation.

"The entire staff has been here for a month" she added quickly. At these words, you looked up, and your eyes narrowed in a sign of dissatisfaction and suspicion.

"How so?"

The girl, now clearly regretting speaking, began nervously adjusting her uniform.

"The Duke replaced the entire staff after your accident," she explained quickly, as if these words were supposed to calm the situation, although they had the opposite effect.

You wanted to ask for details, for reasons, for what exactly had happened, but before you could say anything, the door flew open. One of the older women entered the room with a silver tray full of medicines.

The older woman gave the girl a reprimanding look that was telling enough for the young maid to immediately return to her work, lowering her gaze like a guilty child.

When the servants finished their duties, both women bowed low and asked if you needed anything else. You forced yourself to briefly deny it, even though your thoughts were screaming to stop them and force out more information. A moment later, the door closed behind them, leaving you alone in the room, again.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─ 

By the end of the day, your strength had returned, at least enough to get out of bed and sit on the edge. You still felt a slight weakness in your legs, but the knowledge that at least you had managed to overcome your constant fatigue was comforting. On the nightstand stood a silver tray of medicines – the same tablets whose bitter taste made you nauseous, and whose effects locked you in a numbing fog. You looked at them with reluctance, the dark purple – almost black liquid standing in the cup almost made you nauseous by its very sight. A decision was made in your head – not now. You would use this moment, when your body finally did not betray you, and Silco did not hover nearby like a guard watching over a prisoner.

Without the constant feeling of sleepiness, you finally felt like your thoughts were your own—clear, clear, unencumbered by the fog of medication. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could look at your situation clearly. For days, weeks, maybe even longer, you felt like Silco had not only taken control of your life, but also of what you thought and felt. His words, his presence, even his care—all seemed to shape your reality.

But now, as that grip eased, the truth began to weigh on you, something here was wrong. The situation you found yourself in was far from normal, no matter how beautifully Silco tried to present it. There were too many of his versions of events in this story, his sweet promises, his comfortable half-truths. And the answers you were desperately searching for? There were none. There were only gaps, silence, and then his narrative again. You could see it clearly now—and it was that clarity of mind that made the weight of it all seem unbearable.

You knew that if you wanted to regain even a shred of sanity, you had to get out of this room—this claustrophobic prison where everything seemed to reek of control. You wanted to feel the fresh air, to touch the earth in the garden that had only existed for you as a view through closed, unyielding windows.

But you couldn't. Your body was betraying you, just as it had been betraying you all these days. You knew that if you tried, your legs would give out and you would eventually collapse to the floor—helpless, weak, unable to even get up. The arms that should have held you up would fail. Your imagination showed you the image of Silco entering the room, of you lying there—motionless, completely defenseless, yet more proof that you should have listened to his commands.

The thought squeezed you from the inside, and the frustration you had tried to suppress surged like a wave. You felt the stinging tears welling up in your eyes, the helplessness choking you in your throat. You yearned for freedom so much, but you were a prisoner of your own body.

As if all that wasn't enough, you still felt the weight of your nightmare from today, never leaving you. It lingered in the back of your mind like a persistent shadow, blurry but still clear enough to send shivers down your spine. There was something disturbingly familiar about the nightmare, something that wouldn't leave you alone.

Raised voices could be heard from behind the door leading to Silco's office. They were muffled, but their tone indicated that this was no ordinary conversation - it was an argument. You easily recognized one of the voices as Silco's. The other voice, however, was unfamiliar to you, although unlike your husband, he didn't care about the volume of his tone, probably not knowing that someone on the other side could hear them, the words were still too distorted for you to understand anything.

Your eyes automatically went to the tray of medicines, and then to the door leading to the office. Common sense told you to stay in bed, but something else - curiosity, anxiety, maybe even instinct - told you to act. Pushing aside all logical thoughts, you slowly shifted on the bed, trying to get closer to the source of the sound. However, despite your efforts, the voices were still indistinct, and frustration grew inside you.In a burst of courage—or perhaps mad stupidity—you decided to do something more. 

You grabbed the bed frame, bracing your shaking hands on it, and struggled to your feet. The wall was your only support as you took your first step toward the door.

When you reached your destination, your heart started beating faster, but this time not from the effort, but from relief. You made it – for the first time, you had crossed the entire room without anyone's help. But that feeling of pride only lasted a moment, because suddenly you heard the slam of the office door and quick footsteps, clearly heading your way. Your heart froze in your chest. You didn't have time to back up or think about what to do. 

The door opened abruptly, almost hitting you in the face. You were leaning against the door frame and the handle to keep your balance, but the sudden movement took away all of your support. The world around you blurred, and you felt yourself starting to fall. Before you could touch the floor, you felt strong hands grab you at the last moment. 

The grip was firm, almost too strong, you looked up and looked straight into Silco's eyes, which shone with something between surprise and irritation. His face was drawn, as if he was fighting to keep from exploding with anger, but you could clearly see the shadow of concern that was breaking through his mask of composure.

"What are you doing?" he hissed quietly, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and concern.

Silco wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, so that your faces were almost at the same level. You felt his hands grip your waist tightly, holding you in place as if to make sure you didn't disappear from his field of vision. His gaze was intense, piercing, but you avoided it, lowering your gaze and whispering barely audibly:

"I heard noises outside the door... I got scared" your voice was shaking. Silco narrowed his eyes, then looked away, glancing over your shoulder as if searching for something behind you. But that only lasted a moment. His gaze quickly returned to you - now full of irritation, and his expression changed as if someone had turned off the mask of composure he always wore.

"Why didn't you take your medicine?" he asked, anger growing in his voice.

 "Why are you trying so hard to disobey me?!" before you could say anything, his hands moved to your shoulders, gripping them tightly, his voice growing increasingly tense. Before you could protest, you felt him shake your body. Not hard, but enough to force you to look him in the eyes. His hands seemed to desperately hold you to him, as if they were trying to force you into obedience. 

"Look at me" he growled, his voice shaking, but it wasn't just anger anymore. There was something else in his eyes, behind the facade of anger - fear.

Your gaze remained fixed on your hands clasped on his torso, however, Silco clearly had no intention of waiting for your reaction. In a burst of frustration and desperation, his hand moved to the back of your head, grabbing a spot that had not yet healed. Before you could react, he forced you to lift your head and look him straight in the eye.

Pain exploded like fire, spreading throughout your body, and a sudden, suffering cry escaped your lips. Silco froze, as if he had only just realized what he had done. His hand immediately let go of your head, and the rest of your body recoiled in terror, it was enough for your tired legs to give out. You fell to the floor, with nothing to hold on to.

For several long seconds, Silco stood motionless, as if what had happened was unreal to him. His gaze, filled with anger a moment ago, now seemed as if something inside him had snapped.

As you lifted your gaze, trying to catch your breath and control the pain, something about the image before you seemed strangely familiar. Silco stood still, his silhouette silhouetted against the warm glow of the dying fire in the fireplace, but your eyes could no longer focus on the details. The tears that had welled up in your eyes began to blur reality, and you felt as if the room had suddenly become dark.

You blinked once, then twice, and the image before you changed. Instead of a room, you saw something that resembled a scene from a nightmare. Silco stood before you in the rain, his clothes soaked through, drops running down the material in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic pace.

The entire figure seemed to be taken from another world, yet terrifyingly real at the same time. The only thing that remained clear in this illusion was his injured eye. It glowed in the darkness like a cursed light.

You didn't know if it was a memory, a hallucination caused by the pain, or something more. But one thing was certain - at that moment the line between reality and nightmare began to blur, and you felt like you were drowning in this darkness, the epicenter of which was him.

You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your shaking hands. Tears flowed steadily, hot and stinging, as if burning paths into your skin. The pain, both physical and mental, seemed to take over every aspect of your existence.

"Drink," you heard suddenly, his voice hard, almost impervious to argument.

Before you could protest, you felt Silco lift you off the floor. His movements were surprisingly gentle, though you could feel his hands shaking.

Before you knew what was happening, a silver goblet touched your lips. The dark liquid, the sharp smell of which filled your nostrils, was thick, viscous, its bitter taste immediately hit your taste buds, almost causing a gag reflex, but Silco didn't stop

"Drink" he repeated, this time more insistently, and his free hand held your face, not letting you turn away

You felt the liquid pour into your mouth, and he forced you to swallow. His hand, although shaking, was unwavering, and his gaze was focused on only one thing, regardless of your protests.

When he finally moved the cup away from your lips, you felt the remnants of the liquid run down your chin, leaving a sticky trail on your skin. A few dark drops landed on your nightgown, staining the delicate material.

Your body began to betray you – weakened and tired, unable to fight any longer. Your head fell limply, and Silco gently supported it and placed it on his lap. His touch, although full of anger a moment ago, now seemed almost tender.

You felt a piece of his shirt wipe your face. It was a rough, yet surprisingly caring attempt to wipe away the tears, the traces of liquid, and the pain that seemed to be etched into your skin. His gestures were mechanical, as if he was trying to recreate something a loving husband should do.

Your eyelids began to close, heavy with fatigue and tears. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence surrounding you, although you didn't feel safe at all. It was more than resignation – it was capitulation to fate, to him.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

Taglist: @missbeeentertainment

Notes: I'm sorry if there is a lot of mistakes, I was writing it on my phone which has a polish auto correction, and I do not know how to turn it off :( Thank you so so so much for all your love and support, every time I see a notification I feel so grateful for every one of you! Thank you so much and hopefully see you again! <3

[mintysmp]

kinlist

this is huge!

otherkin

wolves

angels

faeries

changelings

androids

aliens

giants

zombie

tabby cats

dogs

dolls - teddy bears & fashion dolls

ghosts

vampires

bees - coping

dinos - copinglink

fictionkin & songkin

crybaby - k-12 album

shoyo ishida - a silent voice

denki - my hero academia

todoroki - my hero academia

dawn harper - nicky ricky dicky & dawn

draco malfoy - JUST ME - DNI DOUBLES

eleven - stranger things - JUST ME - DNI DOUBLES

jude - the fosters - on season 2!

suga - haikyuu - haven’t finished yet

beast boy - teen titans go + comics

heesung - given taken music video

carlos de vil - ID - descendants

evie - higher- descendants

arthur curry - aquaman + comics - medium kin

angela moss - medium kin

badlands by halsey

misha - oc

ice bear - we bare bears

charlie spring - heartstopper - tv

alexander lightwood - the mortal instruments movies

anakin skywalker - just me - no doubles

austin moon - austin & ally - JUST ME - NO DOUBLES

hunter 🐾 - nonfandom or teen wolf

baby - baby driver - a mix of both spiritual & coping

justin foley - 13 reasons why

sayori - doki doki literature club

landon callahan & piper callahan - no fandom

lexi caford - OC

mason and lucy - no fandom

peter parker - spider-man mcu + comics - NO DOUBLES

Philip “Lip” gallagher - shameless us - so far just coping

spencer reid - criminal minds - no doubles

spot - across the spiderverse

tyler - mako mermaids

alexander chase davenport - lab rats - highest

chase davenport - lab rats - higher kin

silco - arcane

jinx - arcane - highest kin

a bunch of characters - andi mack

aaron hotchner - the hotchner kids - ao3

adrien agreste - stopped at s3ep26 the miracle queen

antonio madrigal - encanto

alex standall - 13 reasons why

ender - enders game film

alex mercer - julie and the phantoms

luke patterson - julie and the phantoms

most of the cells - cells at work

alfie lewis - house of anubis

alice kingsley - tim burton 2011

ally - austin and ally - doubles iffy

america chavez - mcu - lowest kin

andi cruz - every witch way - low kin

andre kriegman - zero day au

cal gabriel - zero day - higher kin

kazuha - genshin impact

bakugo - my hero academia au

COPING KINS

derek morgan - criminal minds - body dysphoria - highest coping kin

grizzly bear - we bare bears - a mix of coping and spiritual - pet regression

bears - otherkin - lgbt + unlearning toxic masculinity

nerd - boyfriends fictionkin - haircare struggles

deku - my hero academia

icarus - greek mythology - please just let apollo adore me!

mason “dipper” pines - i want to be adored + paranoia episodes

maze - malcom in the middle oc

sam winchester - mostly coping - i need to eat more salads

adam davenport - lab rats

camilo madrigal - encanto

pepa madrigal - encanton

amethyst - steven universe

kaz + oliver short - mighty med

chonghyun - genshin impact

enid sinclair - wednesday

killua - hxh - started s1ep6

questioning kin:

jane — twilight

meredith grey — greys anatomy

hunter - the owl house

unknown - the big bang theory

unknown pirate - our flag means death

captain hook - book + once upon a time

synpath:

vi - arcane

[mischiefxmuses]

"I promise. I'll be back in the office in no time. This is just a precaution." Silco smiled at her. The shimmer in his system also healed him faster. Didn't make him invincible but it helped. But he didn't advertise what the shimmer had done to him. How it changed him. "I am glad I didn't and that no one did. I can get lost in revenge. Would rather not show that side of me." A nervous chuckle left him. If she had been hurt it would have been something he could have easily fallen into. "Well colour me intrigued. We should definitely go then." Back home relaxing and going places without major reason wasn't a luxury he had. But here he could do just that. Spend time with someone special and experience things. "Still getting used to it but I'll get there. But I am keen to do new things." He smiled at her. But glanced out the window for a moment, seeing a different city in front of him. Blue sky. A horizon. Not something he often got to experience back home. He glanced back at their hands when she took his and ran his thumbs slowly over her knuckles. "I did what I had to. Some may paint me a villain for it. But after being so oppressed for so long. The people who called me villain didn't know who I had been and turned into due to circumstances." Silco had been a scholar. Spending his younger years studying. Trying to build medicines, create bee things and join the academy but because of him coming from the Undercity he was turned away. After that all he say was rage. How few opportunities those from the Undercity got. He wanted revenge. An uprising. "I hope to be the man I should have been here. Not the man war turned me into." He had wanted to prove the academy wrong. Make them eat their words that he'd never be successful or amount to anything. "I look forward to it. Seeing who we are here." He brought her knuckles to his lips and pressed a respectful kiss to her knuckles.

post continued from here bc the new editor sucks :))) @mischiefxmuses

sarra smiled. "I'm glad you're alright, truly," a small laugh left her lips at the others comment - he was right, she wasn't usually as brash, but she'd been worried enough to forgo her usual calm and collected demeanour. "you didn't hurt me, so you have nothing to worry about in that respect, silco - I'm perfectly fine," maybe a little emotionally shaken, but she was fine physically and didn't want him to worry about her too much. "thank you," she smiled, taking the mug, moving her position to face him at a better angle. "I've heard that it's supposed to be lovely, one of the interns took his boyfriend there a few weeks ago - said it was very nice," she smiled. "it does sound wonderful, and different is good, which means it's not something that you're used to," she nodded. "I think I would hate it if it were like that," she did enjoy this city, it had its moments where chaos was thrown at them, but other than those little moments of carnage, it was a peaceful place to live - with no one controlling who she was anymore. sarra placed the mug back in front of her, taking his hands in her own. "sometimes we all must do things to survive," she paused - she'd become complacent to her husband's horrible treatment of their children, too afraid to speak out against him - too conditioned to be the perfect little housewife while failing at her duty as a mother. "you're not that person, that anger doesn't define who you are - your actions here in this city do," she smiled. "we both might have been different people at home, but now here, in this city - we're both better versions of ourselves and that's for the better,"

[skullywullypully]

[a-gal-with-taste]

Baked And Battered (2/3)

Summary: It's the classic story: Boy meets girl, Sumpsnipe meets Promenade-brat, baker meets rebel. And then it becomes so, so much more than that, for both of them.

(Inspired by @sweatandwoe ​ & Secret Ingredient, a must-read)

Warnings: SFW. Baker!Reader, fluff, romance, revolutionary-shenannigans, young love, flirting, time-skips, bit of world-building, slice-of-life-ish, hurt/comfort, humor, angst, eventual happy-ending

Part 1 Part 3

"You can be honest," Silco assured you, resting his fist against his chin to support his head, and you could see the corners of his mouth upturned, gaze mirthful. "I won't tell, promise."

".. .It's just so dry," You wheezed, causing his hand to raise higher to cover his cough as you glowered, hurriedly reaching for the flask of water he grabbed- likely because the bastard had predicted your reaction. "It's a honey-roll, how is it-... it's barely even sticky!"

"Astoundingly, it turns out importing important ingredients this far-down in the Entresol is a bit difficult," There's still laughter gleaming in his eye as he shrugs a shoulder towards the stall across the walkway. "It's been watered down so much, the honey probably had more in-common with fish than bees."

At this, you couldn't resist a small-snort around your next sip, rolling your eyes as you turned to look around, at lights at people at... how different the Lanes really were, you felt like you stepped from one world to the next... but far more incredible, was how different Silco had become.

He seemed to take a complete turn - there was always a standoffish-air about him during his trips in the Promenade, and that all but melted the deeper the two of you had gone into the lift.

There's nothing but confidence, practically radiating off his skin as he takes his hand into yours... and you daresay that the man almost looks relaxed.

"Checking me out, are you?"

You blink, then elbow him while the crooked smile of his only grows. "With charm like that, I'm not surprised you have half the Undercity wrapped around your finger," The obvious sarcasm is only met with a grin, the largest you ever thought him capable of.

"More than half."

"I'm sure."

"Doubt, from you?" Silco shakes his head, almost mournfully... but you see that dumb smirk still twitching at his lips. "Oh, the misery."

"Only misery here, is the food. You eat... things like that, all the time?"

You were never one to judge others taste, or culinary abilities - after the stunt with pasta, you would've ran Vander out with the steel cooking-prongs if that was the case - but you could swear there was still a spot on your tongue that was dryer than the desert from that honey-roll...

"Before you, I didn't eat much of anything," Silco said, snapping you out of your thoughts with a cold splash of reality. Reality that, Silco continued to map out for you in perfect clarity, with nothing more than an absent shrug, "Down in the mines, you're already well six-feet-under, and there's a million others willing to take the job. Foreman often figure, why feed one when there's another at-ready to replace it? Waste of food."

Passing by another stall, almost on reflex, you see his other hand flash out over the nearest basket of apples. You blink, a second time when his other hand comes to press at the small of your back, urging you at a calm, and sharp pace beside him as he continues to speak, as if nothing happened and there isn't a slightly bruised, round red-fruit in his hand.

"So, we had to go out. Scavenge, steal... sometimes just hope, or fantasize to get through one hungry night, to the next... there were too many nights in a row, once. So, I decided to do the previous-steps, although a bit further Uptown," He eye glinted at you in time with the edge of a knife catching in the knife. You don't know where it came from - you hope not from his boot - but it shines cleanly as Silco reduces to fruit into slices.

And then you blink, when one is promptly offered to you on the edge of his blade.

"I never did thank you. That first night."

Pinching off the apple-slice, you regard it for a heartbeat - noting it at least doesn't look shriveled and dry - before popping in your mouth. "I don't think it needed a thank-you. You said it yourself, it was for survival sake."

"On my end, yes. But what was your excuse?"

You paused, and thought about it for a moment, silently walking beside him along a busy street, in a part of a city you didn't know.

"I could? So I did." Realizing that gives the impression of impulsiveness, you're quick to revise your words after taking another bite of fruit. "I mean... you needed someone to help you, and I was there. And it would've felt wrong not to."

"So you acted on ethics?" His tone impassive, but Silco's eyes peer at you intently, thoughtful and deciphering.

"No. Acted on... compassion, I guess."

There's silence for a moment, and it's quiet enough that you're about to take in every-detail of Silco's calloused palm, meeting with yours, squeezing tightly.

"... Thank you."

"I told you, Silco, you never needed to-"

"And you didn't either," He interrupts, and there's a long pause, as if Silco debates with himself, wrestling with what he does next...

But even though it takes him far, far too long, he leans down enough to brush his lips against your cheek, his warm breath tickling your warming skin as he breathes, "You didn't, but you could. So, thank you."

It's quiet for the rest of the night. But as you lay in your bed, back above the bakery, smiling and cheek still tingling warm at the kiss, you think you both said more than enough.

You never knew how quiet it could be.

And indeed, alone in the bakery, it can be... extremely quiet.

Older now, and more alone than you've ever been, you subtly part the curtains with your fingers, just enough to take a peek outside. You don't so much sigh with relief, when you take stock of the absence of blue-and-gold armored Enforcers, but some of the weary tension saps from you at the sight, or lack thereof.

The baker took their leave the moment after the first curfew was enacted, and left you the bakery.

The establishment... the place you trained, worked, lived, thrived, all yours and all-empty. On one-hand, you were glad. You didn't hate your mentor, far from it, but there was a callousness, hot-tempered part of them that you were glad to watch go out the front door with two bags, and no intent to look back.

You were certainly glad to have the shop all to yourself too - even with business slowing down to a crawl in the wake of double, triple Enforcer patrols along the Promenade. But the fact that it was all yours, from the two-room apartment above, to the shopfront you'd frequent from the moment you were taller than the counter, to your beloved, and ancient kitchen, of which you had practically every inch of surface memorized by heart...

It was like a dream. But it was a dream far, far too quiet.

Even now, moving away from the door, your body twitched at the sound of your small-sigh, and how it seemed to echo around the building. It was just too empty, with your mentor gone, customers often too weary to risk the Enforcer-monitors streets...

Clenching the mug tight in your hands, your mind slipped back to Silco.

Silco, Vander and Benzo... and the fact that all three hadn't shown up at the bakery in weeks. On one hand you understood, on the other, you were pacing with fingers shaking around the ceramic, and you were worried.

Worried of what, exactly? You weren't sure... but even in the worst of time, where life, work or whatever else kept the boys busy down in the Lanes, they always found a way back. With sheepish smiles, apologies and a ravenous appetite, it had become habit to expect the three to sneak in from the front periodically, not to mention you had long since gotten use to their visits as a fact of your life...

You were, perhaps a bit desperately at this point, keeping one ear out on the front door as you reluctantly returned to the kitchen to complete the afternoon batch of rolls.

That's probably why you all but dropped your ceramic mug, when you turned the corner to see Silco, slipping in though the back door.

You were standing in front of him in less than a second, staring up and breathing his name. A boy no longer, the last growth-spurt had been the bane of your existance but looking up at Silco, and taking in his tired, weary and bruised, and... here.

Here, and you don't waste a second longer, before taking advantage of that fact to rush to him, arms tight around his waist and face pressed close to his chest.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be," You hissed - not sniffling, no. "Where were you?"

Silco is quiet, for just a moment. Raising your head slightly with a gentle rise and fall of his breath, one arm loose, and yet securing around your waist. "... shall I be honest, or tell a lie that makes you feel better?"

"The truth, Sil," Scolding a man would be odd to any outsider, particularly when you stepped back to place your hands on your hips, but it worked, with Silco having the decency to look sheepish at your insistence. "Look... life gets busy? I get it. Work gets hectic? Sure... But five weeks, Silco?"

You balled your hands into fists at your sides, to hide that they were shaking, even after his eyes flicked down to them. "You scared me, Silco," You admit, and his tone is apologetic.

"I know, that's... partially why I would rather tell you a lie."

"Silco."

"We," He pauses, again, and you struggle not to tap your damn foot. "... closed down a mine."

You waited, but he said little else, and so with a sigh, the directionally changed for you to walk sharply into the kitchen. He follows, and leans heavily against the counter as you return to the oven - Silco takes a moment to glace between the shut-windows and front-door, before jerked back to attention at your flat-tone. "I see."

You didn't, and he knew it, which is why Silco murmured your name almost weakly, before wisely shuting his mouth.

"Five-weeks, Silco," You repeated firmly, taking out the ready-rolls fresh and hot from the oven. Out of habit, one was scooped off the pan with a spatula, set out to cool and consume by the young man you were scolding. "Closing down a mine took you five-weeks? Without any words or messages or-"

"We didn't close it. We blew it up."

Mid-scoop, your arm jerked violently. You don't even mourn the fact that a roll bounces off the coutertop and is left to cool on the floor, as you turn to gaze opened-mouthed at Silco at his announcement. He doesn't meet your eyes, and when he speaks, it's as clinical as sterilized-steel.

"It's been opened for generations. Thousands lived, died, and are buried within it's walls, all under Enforcer command. No more."

You blink, inhale, and exhale lowly, shakily, "Did... was there... anyone...?"

"No. We cleared it, did it at night, but..." He hesitates, before jerking his chin, long dark hair flicking at the movement he makes towards the window. "If you were wondering why about the new influx of patrols, I know of a handful of reasons."

Body slumps against the counter. Your arms, thankfully, keep you propped up, but you can only stare at Silco. A million and one thoughts running through your mind, but from them all, you can only manage four words, "How are you feeling?"

"How do you think?"

"Okay, how... what's next?"

The weariness in bright sea-green eyes fade into determination, the kind you had seen that night in the Lanes, years ago. "There are others, willing to fight beside us, willing to do whatever it takes... it's possible." Silco says it firmly - not as if to convince himself, or even you, but perhaps to convince the world. "It's... our freedom, is possible."

You want to shake him, really. Thoughts of patrols, of cave-ins, recklessness, arrests, of Stillwater, fill your mind, while you know there's only the glowing hope of a better, grander future filling his.

He's scaring you, but it's with his hopes for a better future, a better life for himself, and for the people in the lower-parts of the Undercity.

How... how can you possibly dim that hope with your fears?

But maybe Silco sees it, when he looks to you fully, and takes in the slight shake in your arms as you lean heavily on the countertop. Pushing away from his own counter, he reaches towards you, and you're quick and eager to meet him halfway, grasping his arm tightly as you look up at him. "I... what... what do you want me to do?"

"Nothing."

A blink - from both baker and newfound rebel, as if neither could believe the force behind his words. Silco tries again, licking his lips, "I don't... want you doing anything. Getting involved with this. We reside in different seconds of the Undercity, and it's far-safer for you to continue up here..."

"But I want to help you," You insist, reaching up with your other hand, and though the young man jerks, bright eyes widening at the touch, you watch as he leans slowly into the palm that cups his face, eyelashes flickering, "Silco... whatever you need. However I could help. Let me, please."

For a moment, there's silence. From you, fear and worry, but also assurance that your support was far from shaken. And from him... his eyes open fully, and Silco gazes at you with a mixture of emotions, all swirling too fast for you to decipher.

He says far, far much more, with the way he leans down to brush lips to yours, than with words.

Another kiss, one made far too late, and far too sweet, that you almost stumble in the man's grasp at it.

It's so full of adoration, that you know even Silco couldn't put it all into words.

You canteen find your own, and a forehead presses against another for a long heartbeat, before Silco speaks again, quietly, and yet firmly, "It would help me to know you're here. Safe. Working, doing your business and... staying out of the Lanes."

"Forever?"

"No, just... just until."

"Would... would you be able to come see me?"

Another kiss, this one quicker to come, and this one far more firmly, as Silco whispers urgently against your lips, "As often as I can."

Those same lips smile, and you let out a small laugh - part hysterical, but Silco seems to share it. Euphoria and fear mixing together, a perfect and chaotic blend...

As he kisses you, a third-time that speaks not of the joy of the possible future and the anxiety of war-indeed, but of the joy sizzling between you at these long-awaited kisses... you try to ignore the fact that it feels like this perfect mixture, feels only one ingredient away from disaster.

Disaster, it turns out, comes in many forms.

The Children of Zaun quickly turn into a disaster for Piltover. A group of children, the product of generations of apathy, misery and oppression, lash out with the full-force of descendents making up for their predecessors lack of fighting in the past, and it's simply a disaster for the Enforcers.

Patrols allbut swarm the Promenade, and the Alcoves fared even worse with harbors constantly under-watch, but it only helped the Topside efforts so much.

Smuggling became a full-time profession. The Lanes already made no secret of the extra items among their stalls, but now, there was no secret on the raids made, typically against Enforcers themselves.

It's impressive. It's sending a message, showing that the Children of Zaun are a legitimate force, with a real, clear goal of refusing to cow to enforcement.... and it's scaring you half to death.

A bakery, obviously, doesn't warrant any searches among the swarms of Enforcers that stalk the streets - in fact, they're almost cheery to get warm, fresh-made food at your little shop on your lunch-breaks, and while the gold is appreciated, the polite smile on your face forever feels frozen as each Topside customer.

You try to picture, which Enforcer gave Vander that walloping on the harbor last month? The one that threw that gas-canisters into a safehouse Benzo had been guarding? You can't even hate them - all you energy goes into the worry of what these Enforcers are doing to your friends, and for those trying to fight for their right to exist in a better life.

It shows in your baking too, though Silco, bless him, doesn't comment. Even as his brow twitches as he takes a bite of an turnover - apple. You both had developed a sort of fondness for them, since that night in the Lanes.

"Was anyone else...?" You don't finish. Maybe because a part of you doesn't want to know, but also because the stitch in his arm requires your full-attention - years ago, you would've balked at the thought of even attempting it. But times are changing.

"No. We had a decent force... as the leader, I worked to made sure everyone got out of their first." A pause, then he crams the rest of the pastry into his mouth, avoiding your gaze. Silco chews slowly, to avoid speaking (and also because you both knew full-well it was more chewy than flakey) before finally answering in an almost sheepish-tone. "And it is just a scratch."

"One that's taking a dozen amateur stitches to close. Sure."

"You're doing a good job," His assurance is met with a grateful squeeze on your knee, pressed against his own as you work closely. Nails dig faintly through your apron and your pants beneath it as you work to snip of the excess, and carefully tie off the stich, before it eases as you reach for a nearby wrapping. "Who knows? Could be my personal baker and nurse one of these days."

"I can't fix everything, Silco. And I would be grateful if you would... you know. Visit an actual doctor."

"Ah, but where would I get the opportunity to eat as you work?" His tease ends in a hiss, as you tie off the wrap just a smidge tighter than necessary... for his benefit, of course.

Leaving him briefly to wash up, clean yourself off, and remove your apron - he made a habit of showing-up at the tail-end of your shift. When he could show-up, that is. Upon returning, silently, Silco held his hand out to you.

You offered your own without hesitation, and for a moment just... tried to enjoy this.

Even with worry plucking at every nerve, and even fear spiking through you everytime you glanced at the carefully-curtained windows, knowing what the world was outside, you tried to enjoy this moment with Silco as much as you could.

It wasn't hard, as his thumb carefully strummed along your knuckles, and his hand was so, so warm in yours.

"... there's some benefits to all this."

"I know. Never said there wasn't."

"We're making progress," Mouth twisting in a sneer at Piltover's iconic buzzword, his eyes softened at your glance. "We are. The Sumps are all but abandoned by Pilties, and the central-Lanes are in our control. If we just keep pushing, keep working... we can do it. We could have the Nation of Zaun by the end of the year, so long as we keep up."

Smiling, you shook your head, "You'll work yourself to death... you could afford to slow down, Silco. You, Vander and Benzo." You couldn't even remember the last time you saw the other Sons of Zaun. Had Vander grown another half-foot in your absence? "You can take a break... Zaun will still be here for you, if you just slowed down a bit."

"I can slow down when the Undercity is ours, or I'm dead." Stubborn as he was, there was a soft look in his eyes as the gentle notes of your voice, all but asking him to take care of himself.

"If I have to bury you, I'm going to be real upset." You tried. You tried to make it sound like a joke, tried to keep the pinched-note of worry from your voice, but you tried and failed.

Though, at the very least, the seagreen-eyes looked guilty at your words. It wasn't as much as a comfort as you would hope, but you kept focus on your joined hands... meaning you missed the way the soft look in Silco's eyes faded, and were replace by determination. A firmness that wasn't showed in his quiet, almost reassuring words.

"If I do-"

"Stop."

"If I-"

"No. Stop it. Don't you dare start that," Snatching your hand away like he scalded you - he might as well have, there was a sudden heat behind your eyes - you didn't get more than two steps before his hand shot out, latching and interlocking with yours.

"If I do," He starts again, far, far too calmly. "Then I want you to focus on you. Not me, don't..." Silco pauses, then shrugs the shoulder that isn't bandage, with all the casualness of a man discussing weather, save for a bitter smile on his lips. "Bit late to tell you to forget me... but it wouldn't be worth it, to keep going on life thinking about a dead man."

"Why are you so certain that's what you'll be?"

He laughs, and you blink at the way it sounds so dark, and worst of, knowing. "Because I know who I am? Because I know where I came from? Because dying is a risk I've known all my life...?"

You could shake him, for how careless he shrugged, and how he wouldn't even meet your gaze. "Death has always been the logical end-point... not the goal, but I know it's coming. I just want to make sure you'll be okay, when it does."

You're about to shake him. About to rip your hand from his, teeth-bared and eyes furious instead of releasing the embarrassing tears behind them, but you can only hoarsely whisper, "Why?"

"Why would I want you to be okay, when I'm no longer here?" Silco laughs, just as sullen, bitter as the previous. "I think we both know why... and we both know the feeling is mutual."

"Of course it is." You manage not to flinch as his fingers tighten, his gaze flashing to you with intensity, and for just a moment, pure and never faltering love for you. "But why... why are you saying all this now?" A swallow, before you add in a breath, "Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?"

Silence reigned, and not even Silco, pushing the chair back and standing, could break it.

Only your inhale, shaking and tight, broke it by the time he had stepped halfway across the shopfront to you. "Are you?"

Silco opens... closes, opens, and closes his mouth again. Losing his words and losing his thoughts - both first-time occurrences. His arms reaching out to you, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into an embrace against his chest, is far from a first-time occurrence.

But it's the first time you leave the front of his shirt wet, the bright, rebellious maroon color bleeding darker, like blood with your tears.

"Are you?" You whisper against his sternum, and you hear and feel the shudder in his exhale, before Silco speaks.

"I hope not. Gods, I hope not... but how can I stop? Change can't stop, anymore than this revolution can... the only end for change is death. And I've... always aimed to desire change."

"Can't you aim any lower?"

Again, the chuckle you both share is a little hysterical - for you, quite a bit more so.

Silence once again fills the space around you, and the smaller space between you. Enjoying the moment is impossible, but even as you cling to Silco, it's impossible to ignore the comfort he brings, as his hand cups your head, with fingers caressing though your hair as he holds you close.

"Promise me one thing?"

Silco hesitates. "I'll try."

"Try, to stay alive. For me." Even if he couldn't come every day. Even Zaun's freedom wasn't a guarantee, even if you had to sell the damn bakery to bail him out of Stillwater if he got arrested..."Just, stay alive. That's all I ask."

The quiet only lasts a minute, before you feel a small dip of his chin on your head, in the motion of a brief nod. Allbut slumping into your arms, Silco holds you even tighter to him, other palm now reaching to rub circles into your lower-back in an assuring motion.

"May I ask something as well?"

"Mm?"

There's a pause, and you brace for another promise. Extracted form you, assuring him that whatever happens to him, you would be okay. A promise, you weren't sure you could keep.

You're braced for all that and more. Not the kiss he presses to the crown of your head, firm enough that you feel his words, more than hear his words. "I miss your cooking. Promise to have something ready, the next time I come back?"

A laugh all but bursts out of you - again, hysterical, but actual comedy in your tone as you weakly smack his arm for such a silly request, in such a heavy atmosphere. Perhaps he's lightening the mood, perhaps he's just trying to distract... it works, for a moment, though...

"You moron...  what do you want?"

"Anything you make, is simply delectable, my dear. Though, I'm curious what your version of a honey-roll would be."

"Not dry, that's for sure..."

For just a moment, like children, you can almost forget how dark, and cruel the Undercity could be.

Despite the mirthful air between you, despite laughter, you pray to any God that hears you, that they won't try to remind you.

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