#vanco x reader

[corn-fanfiction]

Oh My Love (Damien Karras x GN Reader Pt. 1)

(Pt. 2)

Summary: Reader (non-gendered) is completing their master's capstone at none other than Holy Trinity church. And guess who is starting to have a crisis of faith?

Rating: M

Tags: religious imagery and symbolism, catholic guilt, priest kink, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, gn reader, queer characters, realistic depictions of anxiety attacks, s*icide, foul language, eventual sm*t

November is cold in Georgetown.

Four years of your Master’s studies has taken you from Penn State to Rome, to the hills and valleys of the East, and back to Georgetown now, to take up a scribe’s position with Holy Trinity Church.

You’ve never been a scribe, at least not for money. But you can’t pass up this opportunity. Georgetown is only an hour and a half from where you grew up, and it is a pleasant enough little town.

It’s your first day so you’ve dressed in your smartest sweater and slacks. Your coat is a hair too big. You bought it for five dollars at a second-hand store in town with the aim to grow into it, though you’re fully grown.

A worn cassette player is nestled delicately in your pocket. What money you’d saved on the coat you spent on a nice pair of Vanco headphones so you can listen to your music in peace. Today, it’s John Lennon.

It’s a little after nine when you reach the church- earlier than you’d planned, but that was a symptom of neuroses. You had to be early to everything.

You creak open the great wooden doors to the church, clicking off the music and resting your headphones on your neck. Within it was warm and smelled sweetly of incense. The gentle wood beneath your feet gives a little with each step you take and soon you’re in the nave of the church. It’s not very crowded, only six or seven people, but at the altar, beginning mass is a priest in a green chasuble. He’s impossible to miss. He’s intense yet carries a softness in his voice as he reads aloud passages. His black hair falls into his eyes and you feel the sudden desire to swipe it away.

You promptly push the thought away and linger in the back as the pipe organ strikes up and the small crowd begins singing.

You must lose yourself in the ceremony of it all because soon things are wrapping up. You blink away the haze of just watching it all and straighten.

“Pardon me, y/l/n?”

You turn to find a priest standing beside you. He has a wide smile and clean-cropped hair.

“Yes, that’s me. Are you Father Dyer?”

He nods and extends a hand for you to shake and you do. The music begins again and the bells strike.

“I am. Thank you so much for coming. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“I was, but I showed up early. I always do- can’t help it. It was nice,” you nod to the altar but the other priest is gone and the parishioners are dispersing.

“It’s nice to hear. How does it feel to be back in Georgetown? I saw on your resume that you got your undergrad here.”

“It’s familiar so it’s comfortable.”

You keep it at that. No reason to dredge up why you constantly reassure yourself about living here. It’s a nice town. It’s close to home.

You falter for a moment when the other priest approaches the two of you. He’s dressed down to the typical long-sleeved button-up and slacks. And he wears them well.

“Ah, Damien! This is y/n. Y/n, this is Father Damien Karras. He serves as priest and psychiatrist here at Holy Trinity.”

You shake hands and note how well they fit together. “Double duty? How'd that happen?”

“Holy Trinity made me an offer I couldn't refuse,” he says with an earnest smile. “What brings me here, if you don't mind my asking?”

“Work, hopefully,” you reply, catching Dyer's eye. He smiles and nods.

“Y/n is completing their Master's capstone in transcribing religious texts. Georgetown sent them here to study our collection.”

This seems to pique Damien's interest.

“And what are you looking for in our collection?”

You unsuccessfully attempt to hide a blush as the truth of the matter comes to light.

“Truthfully, I'm analyzing for mistranslations. Not that I think I'll find something no one else has before, but maybe I'll write it down in a new and interesting way.”

Both men nod, and if either of them are uncomfortable they hide it exceptionally well. This reassures you a little.

“Well, welcome to Holy Trinity. If you need anything, I have an office on the second floor.”

“Do you have office hours for spiritual counseling?”

Damien cracks a smile and even gives you a chuckle for that one.

“No, the spiritual door is always open. It was nice meeting you. Joseph,” he addresses Father Dyer then exits from a side corridor. You watch as he goes, for some reason wholly fascinated with the way he spoke to you and the rich contrast of it against his preaching. You often forget that priests are people too.

Just…usually not people that you find attractive.

“So,” Dyer begins, clapping his hands together in a way that shakes you from your thoughts. “Have they got you set up with a place to live?”

You nod. “An apartment on Prospect Street by those tall stairs. It's nice enough. So, when can I start?”

“As soon as you'd like. We can get you situated in one of the studies in the back corridor so you won't be disturbed. It has easy access to the library.”

The reality of it begins to set in. Your own study and unlimited access to ancient texts? It was every grad student’s dream.

“That sounds wonderful, Father Dyer. Thank you. Is it alright if I return tomorrow to get started? I have some supplies I need to get before settling in.”

“Of course. I’ll let Father Merrin know you’re here. He’s about to leave for an archaeological dig, but I’m sure he could spare a moment to talk to you about translating Latin. It’s one of his favorite pastimes.”

That you didn’t expect. Father Merrin is something of a legend around Georgetown. Prolific, with a deep voice that people found both calming and demanding. He often left Holy Trinity for things like digs, or pilgrimages. You never thought you’d get the chance to meet the man.

“I- that would be spectacular. I’ve always wanted to meet him.”

“Alright, I’ll get it set up for tomorrow if I can. Have a good day, y/n.”

With that Father Dyer leaves. With butterflies in your tummy, you depart as well, welcoming the cool air of Georgetown as you take the first steps into what is shaping up to be a wonderful adventure.

[ink-and-dagger]

Do you happen to also be a Silco x Vander x reader throuple enjoyer like myself? Lol

I don’t seek it out, but I wouldn’t scroll past if it appeared on my dash.

I very much enjoyed @chickenparm’s fic Forever and @kikorenart’s accompanying artwork

But if we’re talking Silco x Reader x ? throuples then my vote is gonna go to sad pathetic loser Marcus every time.

If what you’re actually asking is would I consider writing any… maybe. I’m not against the idea, but I have a lot of other things I’d rather write first. If I ever open for commissions then that’s probably the most likely chance of me writing any Vanco x Reader.

[tweek-tweak22]

[dervampireprince]

Arcane - Silco x Listener N-SFW: Subby Silco Ramble

[M4A] [Sub Silco] [Ramble fap] [Silco’s on his own touching himself, thinking and rambling about you]

Bonus audio because we reached over 1300 followers! Thank you! I post an extra audio every 100 followers. You guys asked if this one could be the next bonus audio, so here you go. I’m still not that confident in my Silco voice, but a lot of people seem to like it enough to keep asking for more of him. Maybe I’ll get my confidence up to do another full audio soon.

If you enjoy listening to my audios please considering dropping me a small donation on Ko-Fi or supporting me on Patreon (where at the moment you get optional access to my Discord and HD downloadable MP3s of all my audios). I improv/write, record, and edit all of these myself, as well as doing artwork for any original character roleplays. It takes a while to put everything together so any support is appreciated. Audio commissions are currently open, information is in my pinned post.  As always, I also post my audios to Youtube, and have Youtube, soundg-asm, Twitter, AO3, Ko-Fi and Patreon.

(Also up in better quality on my soundgasm. SFW audios are in full on Youtube.) [minors + ageless blogs dni. this blog is for 18+ only.] [do not repost/reupload/edit my audios]

[chickenparm]

if you've read this fic at all, then you know it's strictly silco/reader.

originally, it was written with vanco having been a thing in the past, and i removed that before posting, but every time I read it over after the fact it feels strange and unfinished.

so anyway, here's the original beginning that maybe explains why silco is characterized in the way that he is. it's largely the same so it's not the end of the world if you don't read this.

---

As a child growing up in less than ideal circumstances into a young man in downright abhorrent circumstances, Silco had accrued a fair amount of subtle-but-useful skills that served to keep him alive thus far. The things Silco had seen and done in his lifetime were numerous, stacking on top of one another to create the man that stood in the center of his bar and stared at the floor in a way that no one else seemed to understand - or even notice, if he were being honest.

It doesn’t catch his attention at first, if only because others just like it were ingrained into the very foundation of the building in ways that could never be removed. It’s not until the neon lights above catch it just right that it becomes clear the little droplets of blood trailing through the bar are fresh enough to still be tacky when the patrons walk over them.

Blood on the floor of The Last Drop, even fresh blood, is still not enough to catch his attention so thoroughly. It’s the way it meanders in a wobbling line from the front door to the bar, pausing long enough to leave more than a few in the same locale. They linger before beginning their trek once more to the side door that leads to the back rooms reserved for his trusted employees - not even those who worked in the bar frequented those rooms.

But Silco remembers them vividly, maybe too vividly. In another life, he’d walked this same trail before - sometimes alone, sometimes with another. A different man leaned on the bar to catch his breath and regain his balance, left a bloody fingerprint just on the edge of the bar in almost the exact same place. Stumbled on wobbling knees along the wall until he got to the doors that would take him to the very rear of the bar that held a secluded bathroom where he could manage his wounds in peace. Where no one would hear the sounds ripping through clenched teeth.

Colored curious, Silco follows that trail, uncaring of the stickiness that traps in the soles of his boots as he follows their footsteps to the letter. As his hand curls on the bar, thumb hovering over where the lost lamb’s mark lay, he can see flashes of a hand in the past, covered in fewer scars than it is now, its nails dirtier and its tendons stretching taut against skin that’s too thin to have eaten more than a single meal in days.

It’s a poor memory, one he no longer wishes to entertain, and his hand slides along the bar with more meat on his bones and a bit more backbone than he’d once had. More pride. That man is dead and gone, and in his place is one that clawed from the earth that had been thrown over his body to bury him. The grave wasn’t quite six feet, and the job had been done poorly.

There’s another thumb print on the handle of the door, smudged by Silco’s palm as he passes through the doorway and locks it firmly behind himself. No one would bother to cross this point, but there’s an old, ingrained habit inside of him that even after its owner is dead he cannot shake it.

In the distance, there’s the sound of running water rumbling through pipes that shouldn’t still work after so long. Silco no longer follows the trail when his legs know the exact number of footsteps it takes to get to the end of the narrow hallway - twenty-three - and how many doors to the left there are before reaching the bathroom he remembered so fondly - two. With his hand on the wall just out of sight from the occupant, Silco counts the seconds with his heartbeat.

Four seconds, and the light flickers. Twenty-five more seconds, and it flickers again. The same as his eyes remember, and he subconsciously times the blinking of his one good eye with the familiar beat of the lightbulb’s failing lifespan. It’s a wonder it still works, after all these years.

The sound of a grunt, and then a hiss as the sound of metal hits the floor. There’s a liminal feeling in the air, almost as if he’s dreaming - every sound is so familiar, every flicker of the bulb, every thud of the ancient pipes spitting water out. In the past, large hands would have braced on the tile with a laugh rather than a wince, as smaller, thinner ones picked and pulled and stitched and smoothed along tensed muscles. Lips would follow in their wake.

Silco often dreamed of the man that came before him, when he was young and a fool and something like love had been worn like a second skin, but never to this intensity.

Never this palpable.

A curse now, ground out between teeth before the sound of flesh hitting tile. Silco knows who this is, who is licking their wounds in the darkest corner of his bar, and the liminal feeling dissipates like he’s climbed from the river once more - less frantic, less violent. The ache in his chest is there, but its sharp edges have been ground down by the passing of time - but even a dull knife hurts when used with enough force, and tonight aims to kill.

Rounding the corner, Silco holds onto the doorway and watches as you stand beneath the running water and struggle with little grunts to reach over your shoulder at the gunshot wound that continues to weep in red rivulets even now. Again, you drop the knife in your hand and it rings sharp against the tile almost in time with your forehead thudding against the wall.

The form is smaller than who had used this room before - decades, maybe? Another detail lost to time that should be important but had been deemed unworthy. Like a phantom, rising from the grout, Silco sees broad shoulders overtop your smaller ones. Do you understand the weight you’re carrying at this moment, how heavy that ghost truly is?

Silco knows intimately - painfully - and doesn’t want you to shoulder it. Even he, the man who has seen it in the corner of his eyes and felt it in the moments where he’s blissfully alone, still isn’t used to how harsh it presses into his bones. Silco can hear it - the moment that thought passes through his head he hears the laughter and jeers of his counterpart on how harsh the lines of his body are.

Followed by the sensation of featherlight touches on the very parts of him that had been in suspect. Soothing subdermal wounds that had been caused by words, breaking him down and building him back up again in a vicious cycle that ended in the worst way of all. The thought of the circle beginning again makes his blood run cold, even in the humid air of the shower room.

You’re breathing heavily - great, heaving things that do nothing to help the stretch and relax of your injured shoulder. It’s a simple enough fix, if one has a second pair of hands. If not, the best way to remove it on your own is you brace your opposite elbow against the wall and lean against-

The thought is pushed away as soon as it comes. There’s no space for it here, not when Silco is watching the trail of crimson flowing along the line of your spine, the curves of your backside, down your legs to the drain and swirling amongst the rest. It’s beautiful in its own way, and Silco marks it as a boon to have been able to see it at least once, despite the connotations of it all.

Once upon a time, his fingers would have itched just as much to follow that path on muscles more defined, a body as familiar as his own. You're softer, smaller, more forgiving than the other. Silco finds that he prefers it far more.

[vander-affectionate]

so vander betrayed silco...

now i haven't seen anyone nod to what happens after

sure, yeah, you met vander in the lanes and yes, yeah, silco introduced you while drinking and it all took flight after that and what a trip you are with them

when there's one job you can't make, one that vander tells you is too dangerous and silco begrudgingly agrees bc they don't want to see anything happen to you, their favorite little fissure

has no one considered what happens the night vander arrives beat up to the hangout you three frequent to get away from the world? the same place that is a reminder of every night, afternoon, dusk, and dawn, that you all had each other. it's a reminded of the promise you made together: you would take the topside by storm and declare independence for the undercity.

vander slides down the door, his hands curl into his hair, and he can't quite think straight? not when all his pash memories of being here with the only family he's ever known are flashing through his mind

but then our big man looks up and hearing your steps faltering when there's one man at your door and not two

images of silco flash in his mind and there's plenty of reasons for why his face is beat up, but not one for the absence of your gangly man with topside dreams

the world tilts for vander when your smile falters

"where's silco?"

[zorak-show]

i have virtually no reach on here, but if someone out there would like to request a Silco drabble from me, I'm having a bit of a writer's block and just need some outside ideas to get moving again.

Here's a fun list to request from

but if you have anything in mind, just let me know!

I mostly enjoy writing Silco x Vander, but could be convinced to do other ships with the right prompt so don't be shy

adding a gif for visibility lol

[space-blue]

I... I love your art of them, such sweet work! They glare at us from across the bar... finding our vibes wanting...

Young Silco and Vander, watching over their people.

Just some more headcanons coming along-

In the undercity during Silco and Vander's co-leadership, I think the word would rather be, "Where you can find Vander, you'll always find Silco right at his back" rather than the opposite if that makes sense.

I have a feeling Silco as a young man wasn't just as fond of being up and about his opinions to everyone, which made him often fall into Vander's shadows. Vander was the upfront-in-the-middle-of-everything, Silco's way of working is more subtle and not as visable, but just as effective.

(Vander gives me the high-school jock jerk vibes that ends surprising everyone with being a good person when he grows up)

As a young man I feel Vander subconsciously wasn't fond of sharing the leadership. He always said he was to Silco, and would never deny they were leading together as equals, with their word having just as much to say, but he was fast to step over Silco's (or generally anyone's opinions) and just make decisions. Not because he meant to do this, but he saw it as obvious that his word was final. Which would always irritate Silco. Probably had a lot of arguments about what decision would be best, and less serious ones too (like the old couple type of fights) in front of others all the time.

If he tried talking to Vander in a serious matter about this, Vander just brushed it off, saying he was overreacting or that he just didn't see what he meant. Although I don't think Silco would have brought it up more than once or maybe twice in a serious matter, not having the energy to argue with Vander who would get very stubborn and not fun to have to deal with if upset. There was other ways to get his word through to Vander anyway...

Something that amused Silco was that Vander could easily be made to think an idea was his own, and being very good with his words, Silco could often "manipulate" Vander into doing things his way instead.

I don't think they always had this problem though, (at least not the first years of them knowing eachother) and very often too agreed on things and had the same views/opinions.

At the same time as it annoyed him a lot, I don't think it mattered that much to Silco to be seen as the one of the two who was the ?main man?, both because he was happy together with Vander, and it wasn't that important to him... not before it actually became worse and an increasingly bigger issue closer to their falling apart. They both after all, had visions of doing good for the people.

Besides having their quarrels, I think they really needed eachother, being each their anchor for the other. Silco could calm down and ground Vander when he got too worked up, and Vander wouldn't be afraid to tell Silco he was taking things too far, putting others or himself in danger.

I think Vander didn't realise how much Silco meant to him, or how much he needed him, before it was too late, and he was without him.

As they grew older, Vander lead with (mostly former) brawns and by being a friend to the people, keeping them under control because they trusted him. He was very skilled with people. Silco in lead, was the brain and business man, but got distant to the people's actual needs. None of these things can be successful without the other, Vander and Silco would do much better if they got to lead together. Or I suppose, managed to.

[tweek-tweak22]

[tweek-tweak22]

[sweatandwoe]

Just imagining someone saying "Eat my fucking ass Silco!" and his response is just "Okay. Bend over."

Anon you got a big brain. Also I'm sure you meant Silco/Reader but uhhh wrote Vanco instead

Silco/Vander - MDNI/NSFW Tags: Rimming, Blowjobs, Anal Fingering, Top Silco, Bottom Vander 2k Words

"This is what's needed for the job, Vander."

"And you're asking for too much, Silco. We're running thin in the Lanes as it is." Vander runs a hand through his locks, sighing and trying to stop his nostrils from flaring. Ever since he had agreed to work with the other man again, it had been nothing but arguments and headaches.

"It's only a dozen more men at the harbor, Vander." Silco doesn't even look up from his spot on Vander’s couch, ledgers and censuses before him on the coffee table. He always loved to be sure about everything, never one to make a mistake even in their relatively calm meetings. Most of the time. "I've already stationed some of Smeech's people there. Yours will only be for backup."

"I'm telling you, we barely have enough of the people in the Lanes as it is. I can't assign the shopkeepers next."

"Can't you?" Blue and red eyes burn into Vander, a fire brimming beneath the surface. "Aren't you their leader, Vander?"

"It's not that simple."

Silco’s lips twitch turn downwards. "Do I have to give you a lesson on leadership?"

Vander glares at him then, fists curling. He was done with this meeting. "Eat my entire fucking ass, Silco."

The blue eye widens marginally and he drops his pen onto the coffee table. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, was I not clear enough?" Vander leans over his desk with a sneer. "Eat my ass, Silco."

The man looks stunned for a moment, blue eye blinking before it all begins to harden. And Vander feels a moment of panic when Silco stands. Despite the size difference, Vander knows that Silco had spent most of the past decade apart as a ruthless killer. Vander’s muscles were from lifting heavy crates now, not from hitting any enforcers.

Silco makes his approach slow, moving to stand in front of Vanderr's desk. Both hands are behind his back, and he glances down at the desk before raising to the larger man's gaze and holding it. "Get on the desk then."

Vander blinks. "What?" He winces afterward because it sounds almost idiotic with how it falls out of his mouth. Not that Silco seems to care. Not with how his eyes keep burning into Vander. 

"You heard me. Get on the desk and take your pants off."

Silco's tone suggests no room for argument, but Vander still sits where he is, a little stunned. "Silco I-"

"This was probably bound to happen sooner or later." He rounds the desk next, coming up right beside Vander. "It's best to get it out of the way now, and we can have a proper discussion afterwards like adults." He bends down, close enough that his lips almost brush against Vander's ear. "So get on the desk or tell me to leave."

Vander rises after that, halfway undoing his belt slowly, brow furrowing. Silco dominating him with just his gaze, the cold fire of those mismatched eyes encouraging him to continue to strip, and then again with a slow careful touch along his back.

It was the opposite of how they had done things when they were younger, not that Vander minded at all at how commanding Silco sounded now. Still, he wanted to be sure. "Are you sure you don't want me to-"

"I know exactly what I want." The touch dips down, fingers dragging along an old scar. Silco had been the one to stitch it. "And what I want is: you laid out before me, Vander."

Well-

Fuck.

Vander is kicking off his boots and pants next, and after a moment of hesitation, decides to say 'fuck it' and his shirt is gone too. Just the brace is left when he climbs onto the desk, laying back on it. It's not entirely comfortable, but there's a flare in his veins when Silco gazes at him, that helps him ignore it. 

There's a nudge to one leg and Vander spreads them, letting Silco stand between them. One hand brushes over his inner thigh and Vander tries to hide the tremble it causes, but from how Silco's lips twitch, the other man was enjoying it. "If I had known it was so easy to get you to follow orders, I would've done this months ago."

Silco's fingers are long and cold, and Vander shivers as they run up his thighs. "Probably wouldn't have worked months ago."

"No, probably not. You needed some time and patience and to be a little worked up." Silco presses his fingers against the meat of his thighs, watching enraptured over Vander's face, like he’s taking not of every twitch or squirm. 

It's a horribly hot sight, that has the heat rising on the larger man's cheeks. And something else rising as well he notices after a moment. Blushing terribly, he meets Silco's stare, fingers fidgeting against the wood of the desk. "Maybe."

The shorter man smiles then, the first real one of the evening and it makes Vander's heart leap. And then start beating far too fast, when Silco sinks onto his knees. "Well, I shouldn't keep you waiting after such patience."

Warmed fingers are soon spreading him wide, and Vander can feel his face going even redder as Silco just stares at him, taking in the sight for a moment. "You don't have to memorize it, ya know."

The real, elegant eyebrow raises. "Are you suggesting this becomes a regular thing?"

Janna, he hopes so. "It can be. If you want."

"We'll see if I do."

The conversation dies when Silco leans forward. A kiss to a cheek first before scraping chipped teeth against it, creating a nice bruise that will bloom later. Lips drag along the skin, until they finally reach his hole, before moving an inch below. Which has Vander wondering what the fuck he was doing before he felt it. "Oh. Oh, fuck."

Silco drags the flat of his tongue upwards, lapping over Vander's asshole three times before pulling back. Fingers dig into his skin before he feels the sudden wetness against his hole and Silco is lapping at him again, much more smoothly.

He had spit on him. Vander probably should've taken offense to it, but all he wanted was for Silco to spit on him again. His legs shift, lifting slightly to give the other man more room. "Silco." It comes out as a moan. 

The shorter man pulls back, just a little, smirking when the larger man groans above him. "I've barely started, Vander."

"Then don’t stop. Please."

"Keep your hands to yourself. Behave. And I won't stop." Then he's diving in again, nose pressing against the skin just beneath his balls while his tongue works over his hole once more. Lapping a few more times, before the tip of his tongue works over the ring of muscle.

Vander has never felt anything like this. Literally, no one had ever put their tongue on him like this before. He was always meant to be the one to take care of other people.

But now he can't stop himself from whining as Silco dips his tongue in a little, back arching and cock straining against his stomach. He grips the desk and not Silco, just as the other man instructed, panting and trying to gaze down to just see the wisps of dark and silver locks.

Okay, maybe he liked being taken care of too. Just a little bit.

Silco's tongue flicks, and he's realizing he might like being played with a lot more than he ever thought he might. Vander can't help it, not as the other man's name slips from his mouth.

And then Silco's lips leave him, a final kiss. Then there's the sound of spitting but Vander can't feel it and that’s more alarming. "Silco?"

Blue and red meet silver eyes. "Do you trust me, Vander?"

Vander takes only a moment to respond. "Yes."

Wet fingers brush over his asshole next, and he tenses, an automatic response to the new pressure. Silco's other hand brushes over his thigh, soothingly before his mouth moves to press a kiss onto his balls and has him relaxing enough for a digit to circle the ring of muscle just as Silco's tongue did.

But unlike Silco's tongue, it's a lot longer. It slides in easily, and Vander's gasping at the feeling. It touches him somewhere deep, curling, and his cock jump. "Fuck, Silco. That's so good."

The other man answers with his lips pressing upward, a series of kisses running up his shaft. Eyes meet as Silco drags his lips back downwards, moving in time with his finger.

When Silco rises, his mouth moves to enclose around the tip of his cock, and a second finger presses against him too. When it presses in, Silco swallows him down to the base in one smooth movement that has Vander shouting.

Silco's head bobs in time with his fingers thrusts, tongue curling against the underside of Vander's dick. Fuck, it's too good. It's too much. Vander's never had this much stimulation before, and his fingers dig into the desk hard enough to dent it. "Silco, I'm gonna cum. Please. Please!"

The shorter man only continues his movements, and when Vander’s balls tighten, his back strains in a way that will leave him aching tomorrow, Silco takes everything Vander can give him and swallows it down. 

Mouth and fingers part from him next, spreading him while his legs were still shaking, checking on his hole to make sure he was okay before Silco rises. He stretches across the desk, pressing his body to Vander’s and takes the larger man’s face in hand. Lips brush over his jaw while he grinds his hard cock against Vander’s hip.  Giving him a few minutes to recover before one hand moves to his hair and sharply pulls “Get on your knees.”

Vander does so, slipping from the desk and settling onto his knees just as Silco slips off of him. Naked while Silco was still fully dressed, though with four snaps of buttons a familiar part of him is soon also exposed. 

“Open, Vander.” When he does, Silco sinks the tip of his cock into his mouth. There’s a coo above him, as both hands run into the brown locks. “Good boy. Relax.”

Lips part wider, letting Silco have more room. Fingers grip into Vander’s hair, and he moves to grip his own knees, doing his best to relax. He knows what’s about to happen, he doesn’t try to stop it. And when Silco starts to fuck his mouth, Vander realizes how much he likes it. A little too much if he’s honest, with how hot it has him feeling. 

It doesn’t help that Silco can never keep quiet, even while he’s fucking Vander’s face. 

“That’s it. Look at how well you’re taking my cock.” He holds Vander’s head in place, thrusting in and out. Going a little deeper after each couple of thrusts, until Vander gags on him. The blue eye rolls back at the sensation, and soon is thrusting back onto it. “That’s it. Gag on it, like the whore you are.” 

With watering eyes, he moans around it instead, and Silco’s eyes snap down onto his. “Oh? You like being my whore?” Another moan, and Silco’s grabbing his hair even tighter, balling it into his fists as he sinks in even deeper. “Hound of the underworld, but that was never right was it? When you’re more like a bitch in heat. Angry and spitting until someone fucks you right.” 

Vander’s dick gives a small twitch, not enough to get hard again so quickly, but the interest is plain to him. Even as tears begin to roll down his cheeks, drool pooling past his chin as Silco fucks his mouth so roughly, he still wants more. Wants to be filled in new ways. 

Though from how his back and jaw are already aching, perhaps not filled in new ways today.

Silco pushes fully into him and Vander chokes around his dick, throat straining to take him. And then the other man pulls out entirely, and Vander leaves his mouth open while he pants and cries. 

One hand leaves his hair to jerk off his cock, only take a few flicks of his wrist before Vander’s face gets streaks of warmth onto it. He moans, eyes fluttering, before both of them pant. 

When fingers untangle from his hair, they don’t move to wipe the cum off of his face. Carefully avoiding it to cup his cheek, tilting his head upwards so they can view each other.

 It’s almost unfair how not wrecked Silco looks, just a few hairs out of place and a slight shine on his forehead. Otherwise, he’s still perfectly put together. But there’s a smile there now, softer and tender. 

Both slow-moving, Silco helps him rise, to settle back into his chair, still naked. There’s no energy to put his clothes back on yet. “So,” Vander starts, voice hoarse, “That was fun.”

“Quite.” Fingers gently brush through his hair, rubbing over the sore spots from where he had been grabbing it. “A better way to end the meeting, I think.”

Vander hums in agreement, leaning into the other man’s touch. It grows quiet, neither needing to speak for a few minutes, basking in the soft and tender afterglow. 

Silco breaks it, as his habit. “Vander?” 

“Hmm?”

There’s a pause. “I want this to be a regular occurrence.”

Vander smiles. “Well, isn’t that a romantic way of putting it.” 

Silco’s eyes roll, but he leans down to capture Vander’s lips in a kiss that’s almost hilariously chaste after what they had just done. Pulling back, his lips curl into a bladed smirk. “Would you prefer I go find a poem to recite to you? I’m sure there are some good ones at the library-”

“This is fine enough.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Silco huffs but doesn’t move far, lips pressing against Vander’s ear. “I missed you.”

Something tight breaks in Vander’s chest, and the tears that are starting to break through are very different than the ones from before. “I missed you too, Silco.” 

Another pause and the lips curl against him. “I’m still taking those men.”

Vander rolls watery eyes, dragging Silco in close to him. 

“Fine.”

[sweatandwoe]

Silco x reader | Silco x Vander | silco x anyone

[dervampireprince]

Would love to read some of your thoughts on Jayce/transmasc reader and Vander/transmasc reader 🥺🧡✨

vander x trans man reader | n-sfw headcannons

I'm so sorry about how late I'm getting to this!! I kept meaning to answer it and then forgetting and it got lost within all the audio requests. Already done one for Jayce, but hell yeah Vander! You can find the Jayce one in my masterlist that's linked at the top of my pinned posts. I'm still taking sfw but primarily n-sfw requests for Viktor, Jayce, Silco and Vander headcanons/writings in this style (and audios for Viktor and Silco).

he might not be able to afford much, but he will try and scape together what little he can to get you a binder if your top dysphoria is that bad.

because he will not let you bind unsafely. no fucking way. if he catches you trying to bind with bandages he's going to be disappointed. he'll have a long talk with you, making it clear he's not angry and he understands, but you have to look after your health.

won't constantly keep tabs on you and how long it's been since you put your binder on. but if he sees you pulling at it or getting out of breath or if he knows in the back of his mind that it's been a while, he's just put a firm hand on your back, tugging at the hem of your binder, a gentle reminder.

such a fucking soft man. will gather you in his arms, because let's face it even if you're the most masculine man vander is likely still taller than you, and hold you close and rock you on his cock.

just loves enclosing you and holding you to him. having you pulled against him, sitting in his lap, pulling you flush against him if you're back is against his chest, helping you warm his cock.

man has a breeding kink. will be as careful as he can if you're squicked about pregnancy, but breeding can be entirely it's own thing. "fuck, i'm close darl. you gonna let me fill you up? want me to breed you? you can keep all my come safe and warm inside you, can't you? even let me plug you up with my fingers afterwards so nothing leaks out. keep my fingers in you as you drift off to sleep?" (but of course wouldn't actually come inside if you asked him not too, even if he talks about the fantasy of it)

very willing to indulge you in any praise kink. probably will ramble out praise to you without you asking. if you want any harsher talk out of him you're going to have to let him know. it doesn't come naturally to him, but he's willing to try things out for you.

10/10 skills at eating you out. he could stay down there as long as you want. getting on his knees at the edge of your bed, or laying you down on the bar, beard tickling and scratching at your thighs. will let you and encourage you to ride his face.

not adverse to you warming his cock in other ways. always tries to be careful with you though, doesn't like to intentionally choke you or make you cry on his cock but if you assure him that you're into that he'll indulge and might let himself lose some composure and fuck your face.

lets you straddle his thigh and grind and hump it as much as you need

realises you get turned on by him manhandling you? or your size difference? will find excused to lean over your head to grab things, pick you up and set you down instead of asking you to move out of the way, put his hands around your waist, around your wrists, pulling you to his side, all to watch you blush as his eyes crinkle at your reactions. he can certainty pin your wrists to the bed later if that's what you want? perhaps pick you up and fuck you on his cock while he's standing? he can start out fucking you into a wall, but do you want to see if he can hold you up all on his own? do you want him to fuck you on all fours and when you can't hold yourself up anymore he'll grab your wrists and pull your arms back and use them as leverage to keep fucking into you?

you want to top but still be the sub? he's got you. would rather you fuck him on his back or all fours rather than ride you. he'll lay back and pull your hips into him while he praises how well you're doing, reassures you that he's feeling good.

amused by the suggestion of you domming him, but not against it. it's not his natural state, but once he tries out subbing oh. realising he might have a thing for being your good little puppy.

because this man deserves to get to relax and destress and be assured that the world doesn't have to weigh on his shoulders and that it's okay if he just lets go for a while

just because he's subbing doesn't mean he can't still top. he's more of a fan of penetrating than being penetrated. he's fucking you while you got a collar on him and tugging on a leash that's attached as he calls you sir. getting him a little plug? maybe it has a little tail? nothing too big. perhaps you can work up to that if he's comfortable with it, but if not then just the little plug is a reminder while he's working who he belongs too.

restraining his hands, tying them behind his back, because he thinks he needs to responsible for making you feel good by being more active, but you teach him that he makes you feel good no matter what

what if his breeding kink works both ways? what if as soon as you start telling him that you want to fill him up, that you want to come inside him, make his belly swell, claim him, it just unlocks an entire new kink for him and he cums hard?

bonus t4t: you want him to ride your face?? he's so worried about crushing you, but you're so eager how could he refuse? straddling your legs and rubbing his clit against yours until you're both thoroughly soaked.

[sweatandwoe]

I see you posting Vanco at 2 in the morning, and top Silco no less 🤌🤌

I feel like I got caught red handed. Sneakily yeeting it on ao3 and pretending everything is business aa usual

I also meant to just dip my toe in it, and 4k words happened.

[kikorenart]

I WASNT READY CHICKIE

Forever (Silco/f!Reader/Vander) Part 3

It takes you four entire months to realize that the work coming your way and the jobs that are assigned to you grow less and less frequent. It isn’t until you have a full week of no work at all that you finally take a step back and analyze what’s happening.

Previous Part AO3 Link Next Part

Vander/Silco/f!Reader 3,916 words - SFW

---

It takes you four entire months to realize that the work coming your way and the jobs that are assigned to you grow less and less frequent. It isn’t until you have a full week of no work at all that you finally take a step back and analyze what’s happening.

At first, you think Vander and Silco are purposely steering jobs away from you in some misguided attempt to keep you safe despite the discussions early in the relationship that had set that boundary - you’re not to be treated any differently than the other Sons and Daughters of Zaun outside of the quarters you share with them. 

Something like that wouldn’t be too far out of the realm of possibility - Vander handles most of your dispatch, and he’s also expressed concern about your safety on more than one occasion. Even after putting your foot down, he’s always a bit too overbearing when you get reckless on a job. Silco’s the opposite - do what needs to be done, get the results, clean up the mess. 

But then you take a look around - the bar is more full than ever with idling bodies that begin to take on a tension that you notice in yourself, too. This many Zaunites being stagnant in one place is like a beacon for Enforcers, and you start to notice that when the numbers swell to capacity, those bodies start to empty out to haunt other areas. 

It’s not that Vander’s not assigning you jobs. It’s that he’s hardly assigning anyone jobs. 

Silco goes out on his own often enough, and sometimes you force him to bring you along so you can at least feel useful in some capacity. Tonight isn’t one of those nights. It’s nearing dawn, and you’re settling into bed while Vander cleans himself of the remnants of a bar fight that he’d had to break up. Everyone is uneasy and tense, and without orders to cause problems for Piltover, they turn on one another. 

Without Silco here to egg him on, you make the decision to get to the root of this problem. While sitting in bed with the blankets pulled around you, you ask, “What’s going on, Vander?”

“Just getting ready for bed, sweethea-”

“Stop it,” You interrupt him so sharply that he flinches as if you’d physically struck him. His hands pause in their motions of digging through the drawers for something clean, and all at once he seems to slump against the dresser until it nearly tips forward. 

“You can’t tell Silco.”

“We agreed there’d be no secrets, Vander,” You’re endlessly suspicious now. Vander had been the one to bring that rule up in the first place, and so far he’s become the first one with intentions to break it - or, perhaps he already has with how things have been unfolding lately. 

“If you tell him… It’ll ruin everything. You have to keep this one between me and you. It’s not about the relationship, it’s about the entire Undercity.”

There’s a sudden ache in your jaw from how hard you grind your molars together. You don’t want to agree to his terms, but the gravity of that explanation says that something is going on that he’s having trouble dealing with alone. When it comes to the Undercity and Zaun, Vander’s always leaned on Silco, and has started to lean on you as well. 

What about this is so bad that he’s unwilling to do so now?

You nod, but he doesn’t see it so you hum your assent. The back two legs of the dresser hit the floor, just before he turns to lean against it and it thuds against the wall once more. There’s stubble along his chin, something he only lets go when he’s stressed and can’t be bothered with it. It’s eating at him.

“I made a deal. Haven’t you noticed that activity is down? That there are less reports of patrols, that there are more people being allowed across the bridge?”

“A deal?” You push the blanket off, suddenly feeling stifled under the weight of that one implication, “A deal with who, Vander?”

“It needed to be done. Grayson met with me up in the Fringes, completely neutral territory for us all, and it was too good to pass up.”

Vander doesn’t even look at you, even as you crawl to the end of the bed and swing your legs over to get to your feet. Even slumped, looking at his very smallest with the weight of his shame, Vander is still a monumental man. Seeing him beaten down like this brings a wellspring of dread from your stomach to your throat. 

“What… What was the deal, Vander?” He doesn’t answer, and you reach out for both of his hands to grab his attention. His eyes look at you, but they don’t look at you. His palms are clammy and he doesn’t hold your hands in return.

“Grayson offered an exchange. Piltover will reduce their patrols and presence in the Undercity, and we reduce our activities to the simple business that doesn’t involve the direct disruption of Piltover’s… ventures.”

“Vander…”

“It was an immediate solution to a long-standing problem,” Suddenly he’s defensive, and his hands curl around yours tightly. He’s finally snapped from his trance with a ferocity that makes your heart skip, and it transfers to the iron-tight grip he has on you, “It’s a way for us to catch our breath, to expand our influence before starting again even stronger. We’re losing people every day due to the gap between our capabilities and Topside’s, don’t you see? I can’t lose anyone else.”

A bit too hard, Vander’s forehead thumps against yours and presses there. You can feel the nervous sweat that had beaded on his hairline, like he’s terrified that you’re about to turn away thanks to this betrayal. Because that’s what it is, when you boil it down - Vander’s made this decision without the input of anyone else, and has effectively castrated the Children of Zaun with one poorly thought out decision. 

As well-meaning as it had been, it was entirely wrong and completely selfish. 

“I can’t lose you,” Vander finishes, his eyes fluttering closed when you don’t immediately pull away, “Every time I send you out there, I’m worried you won’t come back. Do you know what that would do to me? To Silco? I know damn well he hadn’t said it, but he loves you.”

That declaration is what stops you from pulling away immediately. When you don’t flinch away from him, he lets go of one hand to bring his arm around your back and pull you into his chest solidly. Words fail you in every way, even inside your own mind. At first, you think Vander is trembling, but you realize it’s your own muscles that have begun to tremor.

“Do you know what you’ve done?”

“I’m trying to keep us safe-”

“Do you know what you’ve done!?” Vander’s back hits the dresser as you push him off and stumble backwards, far out of his reach in only a few steps. His arms reach out toward you for a second, aloft and beckoning before they drop to his sides. The accusation comes out of you like a bullet, aimed to hurt, “You’ve sacrificed everything we’ve worked for, Vander. Every life that’s been lost so far… You’ve rendered their deaths meaningless. They’d… They’d be infuriated, ashamed even. For what? A bit of false peace? They’re not going to slow the patrols, Vander. They’re going to wait until we’re complacent and then crack down even harder.”

“That’s not true, and you damn well know it,” Like he’s been slapped, Vander rises to his full height and suddenly he’s no longer reaching out to you for comfort, “What progress have we made? The only reason I could make this deal is because they sacrificed to send our message. No one’s winning without it, but right now? Now we can regroup and come up with a plan of action that doesn’t involve all of us dying-”

“I signed up for this to die for the cause, Vander! I expected it, welcomed it even, if that’s what it took to make Zaun a reality! You’ve taken that from all of us,” Fury burns through your veins as you tug some clothes back on over your nightwear. Vander watches you silently, wide-eyed and just as angry as you yank a bag off the hook and start to stuff your meager clothing into it. 

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m going home,” Every bit of vitriol you have inside you is put into those words as you yank the drawstrings tight and look for your boots to tug on, socks be damned. Vander sputters for a moment, realizing that you’re dead serious right when you tug your second boot on, and he steps between you and the door, “This is your home-”

“The second you agreed to that deal with the Sheriff, this stopped being my home,” Vander doesn’t even fight you when you grab his shoulder and urge him out of the way. Before you yank the door open, you side eye Vander with a deep, deep scowl, “If you don’t tell Silco, I will.”

“You said you wouldn’t.”

“That was before I knew you’d rolled over for Topside. Seriously, Vander, what the fuck?”

You don’t get an answer before you leave, but you wouldn’t have stayed to hear it either way. Vander’s eyes burn into your back as you leave - would he be looking at you with anger, or with melancholy, you wonder. You’re not sure which you prefer, and perhaps when you’ve moved past your anger at this mistake you’ll start to miss him. Until that happens, you’re ready and willing to stew in your oft-unused apartment. 

This time of day, as the sun would be rising if you were up on the Promenade or in the Fringes, a few of the market stalls are open. You stop to get a few groceries with your meager pocket change, enough to last you for a handful of days before you’ll have to figure out how to get more coin to keep sustaining yourself. You’re sure Silco’s going to come find you, for better or for worse depending on if Vander finds the courage in himself to own up to his cowardice.

As you check your bed for pests that may have made a home there in your absence (none, thankfully) and dust off your bedding, you wonder how long it’ll take before one of the three caves - You, Vander, or Silco. The latter is who you feel the worst about, because there’s not a single person that calls themself a Zaunite who believes in the cause more than he does. 

And Vander, the one person Silco trusts above all others, has acted directly opposite to those ideals. Perhaps you should have stayed at the bar, if only to break up the fight that’s going to ensue when Silco catches wind of what’s happened from either you or Vander. You don’t plan to pull any punches if you see him first. 

Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately, depending on how you look at it - you see neither of the men for three days. Every one feels longer than the last, and on the apex of the third day you realize you’ll have to figure out what’s happened in your absence. Neither man has come to you, and it’s so out of character that you’re actually worried. 

There’s a horrible feeling of dread in your gut, twisting to the point of killing your appetite and ruining any sleep you may have. All you can dream of is the fight that would ensue, the one you’d selfishly withdrawn from in a poor attempt to hurt Vander how he’d hurt you. All at once, you feel like perhaps you’ve made a great and terrible mistake. 

It’s almost like serendipity, when you hear a knocking at your apartment door just as you’re securing your knife around your thigh. You’re hopeful for a moment, though you’re not sure if it’s for Vander or Silco. That is, until you realize the rhythm and volume of the knock is entirely unfamiliar and rather soft. 

It’s a child - dirty but well-fed. They look up at you with an open mouth for a moment, showing the gap of their missing front teeth before they gather their wits and stutter your name out. As soon as you nod, they’re already stepping away, “I got paid to come get you, ma’am! Boss said right away-”

“I’m not going with you, I don’t even know who your boss is.”

“Oh, well of course you don’t! S’not really my boss, just pays me to run errands sometimes, but he said I was supposed to come get you right away.”

You stare the kid down, taking note of their threadbare but ultimately undamaged clothing, the dirt on their skin from a child simply playing in places less than sanitary, and the way their joints don’t seem to linger as close to their skin. This is no gutter rat, despite the layer of filth. 

“Where?”

“Down to the docks! The old cannery, the one that was condemned two years back because-”

“I know why, I’m the one that did it,” You level the child with another look that shows how unimpressed you are with their explanations, and finally they seem to crack beneath the pressure when it’s obvious you’re not moving. 

“Boss said I’m only s’posed to say this in an emergency - Silco.”

The child flinches with how quickly you walk past them to the stairwell. You know full well which cannery that’s being spoken about - you’d cut the gas lines yourself and flooded the place with so many fumes that they’d had to shut it down for months to make repairs and try to fix the damage. By the time it’d been deemed safe enough for human labor once more, the building itself had quickly fallen into disrepair thanks to the acidic rain and poor construction. 

What would Silco be doing there, though? The child doesn’t explain, and you’re glad that they seem to understand the importance of keeping their mouth shut - because something must have happened if the only reason for Silco’s name to be spoken was in an emergency, such as you not agreeing to follow some random child to a cannery that’s very secluded. 

Instead of simply leaving you at the entrance to the worn-down building, the child beckons for you to follow them inside. The building is just as bad as you remember it, with the only new addition being creeping vines along the floor. They spit shimmering pink dust into the air as you step on them, and you quickly endeavor to avoid doing so again. 

The child had no qualms about it though, but thankfully it seems to be a heavy dust that sinks into the busted concrete rather than rise up to where you can inhale it. It’s the little mercies, you suppose. 

Now that you’re secluded, the child isn’t as tight lipped when they stop in a darkened doorway off to the side and gesture for you to go in, “Boss is waitin’, and so’s your friend.”

“My friend isn’t your boss?”

“No, at least I don’t think so. Maybe he’s my boss’ boss? Won’t know until he’s on his feet again, probably.”

A chill settles along your spine as you realize the words he’s saying, the subtle information that’s being given. Silco got himself in trouble, and must be injured. But why is he here, and not back at the Drop where Vander can have a doctor that’s sympathetic to the cause come in.

Unless his injuries weren’t caused by doing work for the now-neutered Children of Zaun. 

The hallway is impossibly dark as you follow the walls toward the stairwell at the end. There’s a faint glow of blue from it, and when you arrive at those stairs they seem to go on for miles into the soft blue light below. Around and around, the stairs spiral until you reach the bottom and everything comes into sharp and devastating focus. 

It’s a lab. Various glowing implements keep the ambience low, and it’s horribly quiet as your rubber-soled boots touch the floor. There’s a man working at one of the stations, the mixture he’s creating is bubbling furiously as he works with both heat and chemicals. His head tilts, but he makes no other notion that he’s bothered by your presence. 

There’s a massive window made of thick glass, and just beyond it is an expanse of deep blue water. There are shadows moving through it, just as large as the window itself, and they catch your attention for a long, long moment before movement behind you is suddenly more interesting. You don’t even realize you’d walked toward the window until your own reflection looks back at you clearly.

Your name, quiet and gentle and ragged as if the owner of that voice has been through hell and back. When you turn, you’re unsurprised and somehow also horrified to find that it’s Silco. You’re not terrified because it’s him, necessarily - it’s what’s been done to him that brings your heart to an immediate and painful halt. 

Vicious, purple marks surround his neck and collarbone, put on full display by the dreadfully loose shirt he’s wearing. There are more bruises and cuts along his arms, but the worst of all the damage is what’s been done to his eye. There’s gauze packed over it, but you can easily see that it’s already soaked through with two different liquids - crimson from his blood, something pitch-black and unnatural alongside it. 

“Silco… What’s happened to you?”

“Vander.”

Just those two syllables are all the answers you need. When you don’t respond right away, his brow twists and he leans heavier against the table his hip is propped against for support. Already, you can see his knees wobbling as he asks with venom as dark as the oozing from his face, “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Three days ago, Vander told me while you were gone after I pressed him. I left that night, told him that if he didn’t say anything to you, I would,” You step closer as you speak, and you’re infinitely grateful that your truth is winding him back down from what seems to be racing and circular thoughts, “That little kid caught me just as I was about to hunt you down.”

A long breath leaves him, and at the very end a thick, hacking cough catches in his throat. Before he has the chance to double-over and lose his balance, you’re already looping your arms beneath his armpits and holding him upright once more. Silco at least has the presence of mind to direct his coughing fit over your shoulder instead of directly in your face. 

When it subsides, and he’s spit something onto the floor that you can’t see, he murmurs into your ear with a voice that feels like it’s aged twenty years, “Come with me, I’ll explain. The doctor’s working on something to help me, we shouldn’t disturb him.”

“Your medication needs to be readministered in just over an hour,” Is the only thing the doctor says, not even looking at the two of you as you shoulder Silco’s arm and begin the trek to wherever he leads. There’s a separate hallway, this one is made of the same metallic material that the lab is, and while there are a few doors lining it, Silco seems to already know the one he wants. 

The room is miniscule, but it’ll suffice for housing him as it seems to have done so far. With far too loose muscles, Silco collapses onto the bed and drags himself until he’s sitting sideways with his back against the wall. As you mirror the position next to him, Silco reaches for the first part of you he can grab - your knee. His fingers are bruised at the knuckles, and his fingernails are chipped and looked to have been bleeding at some point. 

“Vander did this?” You finally ask, after the moment stretches and the only sign that he’s still awake is the flexing of his hand on your knee. His eye cracks open - bloodshot and rounded with a shadow that speaks of sleepless nights - and the blue of it directs at you with a sudden frigidness. 

“He did. Told me exactly about how he’d put his balls on the table for Topside to take. When I told him I didn’t plan on sticking to the agreement, that I’d take the Zaunites and do things my way? Well… that didn’t sit well with him.”

“So he tried to kill you?”

“In the river. Held me under until… until I stopped moving. Had to pretend he got me so I could get his knife a-and…” Silco locks up, his fingers gripping tighter and tighter and you realize he’s no longer in the room with you - Silco’s mind is back beneath the surface of the river, likely reliving the sensation of his lungs filling with water that was slightly viscous and Vander of all people being the one to facilitate that. 

Immediately, you pry his hand from your leg in favor of turning to pull him into your chest. Silco doesn’t move any closer on his own, and you tuck him beneath your chin and wrap your arms around his torso to keep him steady - you don’t constrict his arms, not while he’s stuck in the throes of his limbs being useless against an impossible foe.

“I’m right here, Silco. You’re safe,” You try to soothe him, but you’re entirely unsure of what the right words to use are. At least they get through to him minutely, enough for him to turn his head against your neck until you can see the scratching of the tape holding the bandages to his face, “It’s just you and I, we’re far from the river, we’re alone and we’re safe, okay?”

Silco doesn’t answer, even as you repeat those words over and over until he’s limp against you with the exception of one arm looping around your waist. Suddenly, the circle around his eye makes sense - if this is how he is reacting to the verbal recollection of the event, you can’t imagine what’s happening in his nightmares when he can’t control them. 

“Silco?”

“Yes?”

He’s verbal enough for words, and that’s a good sign, but you ask anyway, “What do you need me to do? What do you need from me?”

Silco thinks for a long time, enough that you’re almost sure he’s fallen asleep against you with how his body grows ever more lax and his breathing smoothes out into something even and measured again. Your own eyes nearly droop by the time his rasp cuts through the silence, “Don’t leave me. Vander’s taken everything from me. My eye, my sanity, my family… Don’t let him take you, too.”

What do you even say to something like that? In your heart, you know there’s no way forward in which things will continue as they have been. You can’t have Vander and Silco, and to do so would only invite a host of problems and betrayal that would run deeper than Vander ever could have done. And now, with Silco clinging to you as his last lifeline, you have to choose. 

[zkyfall]

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. (You can make your own post or reblog this one!) I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? DnD campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!!  

Tagged by @bluedaddysgirl  💖🔥but I blame @spicedrobot for starting this 😭

Also I cant count this high after 6pm so just gonna tag two handfuls of ppl I want to share the PAIN with. @sweatandwoe  @fiddlezips @silcosentropy  @smallhorizons @simpfiles  @agoutighost @ironandglass @goddessofroyalty @x-amount-verbs @mazikomo @insult-2-injury

Feel free to ignore if you’ve played already or are sane 🥰

GOD no, there’s too many of them. Send help and snacks plz (all of these are for Arcane, the brain rot is terminal)

Silco x Anyone Chara other than Vander (yes this is srsly how I sort WIPs):

Courtesan Silco 

Eye Visit

Pirate Silco

Silco x Mek

Swain x Silco

Reader Fics:

Domme Reader

Multiverse Silco

Perfume

Side Effects

Silco x Henchperson Purple

Silco x Vander x Reader

Vander x Bartender

Gens:

Cait Fear Transweek

Jinx Growing Up

Trans Day 3 Fashion

Other ships:

Viktor Machine

Prison Therapist AU  (sinvanco)

andddd putting the Zaundads section below the cut because it is EXCESSIVE and even my titles are NSFW opps 😅😇

Zaundads:

Drifting Ch2-5

Dark Deal Ch1-4

A Lewd Negotiator

Zaundads Farm Life AU

Abusive

Oral Fixation Silco

Beau and the Beast

Companion Bot

Dads Brat

Drug Lord Vander ABO

Fight Club

First Time Part 2

Hidden Fun

Modern Abuse

Morning Light

Nightmare

Prisoner Silco

Private Dance

Roleswap AU

Sick Fic

Silco Mugging

Silco Vander ABO

Silco Warwick Breeding

Silco Warwick Size Difference

Stalker Vander

Vanco Aphro

Voyeur Vander/Silco

YanSilco Modern

Bonus Art WIP:

Silco Playing Card

Silco nap

Silco/Marcus