#viktor/silco

[goorehound]

Silco / Viktor Chapter 2

chapter 1

ao3

Still workshopping how I want this to look, so if anybody has any feedback please let me know! And for the people who showed interest in chapter 1, I’m voluntelling you to read this (and share your thoughts if you’d like!) @hextechdystopia @eyeofclaws @greaseofficial @dubiousbread488 and the last person it won’t let me tag lol.

Summary:

Silco, a newer (and far from proud) resident of Piltover, is struggling to raise his freshly teenage daughter Jinx in the uppercity after a messy divorce. Teenagers are difficult, and a new school is always an adjustment.

Viktor, a begrudging and very overqualified high school teacher (after a falling out with his old business partner) is desperately trying to keep his promising student afloat. If only her father were not such a stubborn bastard that refuses to work with him.

Lately, broaching certain conversations with Jinx had become more of an art form, learning when to apply pressure and when to offer her space to fill the silence of her own volition. And Silco had been waiting patiently, until all that remained in Jinx’s bowl was the dregs of her overly sweet cereal. Perhaps the time to apply some pressure, then. “I asked you a question.” He prompted quietly, eyes examining her expression.

Surprise graced it first, brows raising high - then confusion, as they lowered back down into a furrow. “Oh. I forgot.” She spoke as he brought a spoonful of porridge to his lips, exhaling an amused breath at her absentminded behaviour. Often, she had more important things going on to bother focusing on measly breakfast conversations.

“Vandalism. At school. Have you done any?” He asked, giving up on his breakfast. Eating in the morning only ever made him nauseous, but he’d learned the hard lesson that if he skipped a meal then Jinx would follow suit and it was really not worth the bickering. Modelling certain behaviours and healthy habits was sometimes the only way to encourage Jinx, which he’d grown accustomed to. She loved to mimic. He recalled her, chubby cheeked with wide eyes, following his every footstep. Trying to brush her teeth exactly like him, giggling whenever he smiled, copying how he built his blocks into a tower. His little shadow. Oh, simpler times. It was cute the small ways in which that fixation lingered.

“Sometimes.” Jinx shrugged noncommittally, pulling him from his reminiscing. “When I get bored, I guess, doodling on the wall or whatever.” Minor, then - but she did have a very specific art style, and colour scheme, unique enough to be noticed. Not worth the hassle it could turn into. Jinx partaking in graffiti was not alarming in and of itself but the fact that it was at school? He thought he had warned her thoroughly of the risks of being placed in a Piltover school. Jinx slurped loudly from her bowl as he pondered this.

“I see.” Silco brushed a hand through his hair before rising from his chair and collecting their dishes, once she had drained the remnants of her own. “Perhaps we should be more cautious at school, hm? Like we discussed.” He spoke calmly and with an air of finality. “It isn’t worth the risk, you know how uptight they get about their decor.”

Clearly this did not sit well with his daughter, and he heard her irritated groan above the droning sound of the sink as he rinsed the silverware. The sound alone told him exactly with what level of dramatization that she had rolled her eyes, and he braced himself for whatever complaints would follow. “Who cares? I don’t even want to be at this stupid school.”

This had become a recurring theme of conversation over the last two months, and there had been an uptick in frequency as of late. Silco could admit that he was tired of this back and forth, he did not feel he’d had enough hours of sleep to handle this once more. He only hoped his patience would win out.

“You were excited to start. It will take some adjusting, but the opportunities at this school will be a benefit.” Silco scrubbed the washcloth within the bowl in a soothing rhythm, focused intently on it. It was already pristine.

“I don’t need it.” Jinx barked back, and Silco could feel the daggers she was glaring into the back of his head. Scrubbing the lip of the bowl, there could be food caught in the chips.

“You don’t need school?” Silco asked incredulously, fingers hesitating in their compulsive cleaning. That was new. The complaints had only ever before indicated that she may want to be in a different school, perhaps back in Zaun - but no school at all was an interesting development.

“No. Vi hasn’t done school since she was 15,” Jinx pointed out, proud of her statement. As if she’d caught Silco out in some way with this fact. “And Pops is fine with it, he even helped her get a job.”

When the bowl clattered to the bottom of the sink, Silco knew he would not be proud of whatever words flowed out next. He was a man of great restraint, but there was something about a teenager that tried the patience in a way nothing else could - especially when the teenager was your own. It seemed as though she had a sixth sense for what the most aggravating, skin crawling thing she could say next to push him to his limit.

“That is because your sister lacks any potential to be anything besides a hired muscle, or a mindless drone in the mines, and she is as witless as your Pops.” Silco bit out ruthlessly as he dried his hands off, already feeling the regret curdling in his stomach. These were not helpful things to say, and he knew it. “I will not hear another word about you not needing school, child.”

The silence was suffocating. Exacerbated by the drip, drip, drip of the sink in front of him, and he really must fix that. Jinx could fix it, if he asked, but somehow now did not seem like the most opportune time. He should really turn around and face the music, much as he loathe to admit he’d made a glaringly obvious mistake. Akin to a bull in a china shop when it came to parenting he was recently developing the outstanding talent of shoving his foot in his mouth.

Jinx’s expression was as devastated as he had imagined, pinched somewhere between distraught and wrathful. Being the cause for such strong and conflicting emotions on her face felt like a swift blow to the kidney.

“Grab your bag, please, you will be late for class.” Silco spoke quietly, watching her lip tremble to hold something back. Either tears or a shouting match, he was sure. “We can pick up whatever snack you would like on the way over.” He added to hopefully balm over some of the anger.

“You suck.” Jinx said with finality as she threw herself out of the chair, hands balled into fists and body jittering with restless energy. He hoped he could talk her down before she unleashed this rage on some unsuspecting student. Or teacher. Silco had made quite a mess of this morning, hadn’t he?

“I’ll meet you in the car.” Silco replied without acknowledging the minor outburst, going about adjusting his vest and hair as he snatched his keys off of the ring. The walk down from the top floor of their apartment would give him time to calm, to simmer down until guilt won over frustration. He would take the morning off, he told himself soothingly, and he would get in some more sleep.

—————

After picking up an ice cream, without a single comment from Silco about how that was a terrible way to start the day, they drove with Jinx’s music blaring at an impressive level. It eased her nerves, he thought, noises reflecting back the chaos that was her beautiful mind. Also, it proved useful to drown out Silco’s voice entirely, which he assumed was a big part of the reasoning behind it.

When they pulled up to the lot is when he turned the music to a tolerable level, making an attempt to meet Jinx’s eyes. She was putting very good effort into pretending he was not present.

“I’m sorry for what I said about your sister, and Vander.” Silco watched some tension seep from her shoulders. Normally not a man to often make genuine apologies, but Jinx was ever the exception. “Your sister struggled with school, and it wasn’t fair of me to use that against her.”

“She is smart.” Jinx finally conceded and looked over, no longer existing in a realm where Silco was a buzzing mosquito with nothing important to say. “And I don’t want to be here.”

Silco heaved a breath and reached over to fix a flyaway hair in the sea of blue atop Jinx’s head. “We can talk about that more later. Play along for now, hm? Check out the library. Take advantage.”

Jinx did not seem necessarily happy in regards to the fact that he did not immediately bend to her will and withdraw her from classes that moment, but she no longer seemed to be trying to make him explode with her thoughts when she deigned to acknowledge his presence. So, that was progress.

Some form of assent was muttered as she left the car, and Silco gratefully unpaired her phone from the stereo system to play something a bit less abrasive on the ears.

Absolutely he was due for a nap, as much as that aged him to say, he could not wait to be wrapped in his duvet and dead to the world for the next few hours.

[her-soliloquies]

They really gave us everything though: old gay dads, cool straight (?) couple, badass lesbians, gay (temporary) rivals

+

bonus: jayvik together for eternity

I would be beaming from ear to ear if I wasn't so depressed about arcane being over for good

[floelu]

love this show

[tiredcupofangry]

Yes hurt me more....

I think I need a month out of work for this to sink in...

[adactaaries]

Okay let me add my five cents to the Zaunite au, where Viktor didn’t make it to the academy and remained in Zaun.

He was trying to invent on his own, but he desperately needed money for his research. And that’s when Silco appeared…

[scampdoodle]

Some Zaunite Viktor and academy Jayce

[caitlynbuceta]

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

[silconation]

they were a family your honour

[bestwitchsam]

I need this trans diva in league of legends now

[phantom-palace]

sitting here… mute as fuck..

[outlanderalien]

Arcane really was just like, the love was there and it changed everything.

[goorehound]

Viktor / Silco - Glow

ao3

Rating: 18+. Not explicit but hinted NSFW.

warning: description of Viktor’s body may be uncomfortable for those with body image issues, it is described to emphasize his illness. But please take care of yourself and don’t read on if that could be upsetting <3

Summary:

Silco’s early morning contemplating while Viktor sleeps on.

The light peeking through opened curtains, speckled with dust, poured over the slumbering figure across from him. Silco dared not move lest he disturb the glow casting across the pale expanse of skin, illuminating the harsh edges of a too thin frame. The curve of a small waist, a knobbed and crooked spine. Breaths shallow and occasionally halting, ribs inflating to offer extra space for battered lungs to draw in the air. He seemed fragile in this lighting, frail in a way Silco knew he would be ashamed of.

When he reached up to allow himself a touch he was given pause, the stark dichotomy between the shadow of his hand and the ethereal form it leaked upon. The illumination interrupted, unkind hands polluting the beautiful scene before him. He was overcome with the want to wrap Viktor further up in the shadows, cover him until every inch was shielded from the sun and replaced by a Silco’s vast darkness. To refuse to acknowledge how strongly Viktor belonged to the light, to drag him down into the depths alongside. To hold him. To keep him. To dig his nails in like some snarling, feral thing that did not want to share its capture.

Perhaps, if he shrouded Viktor in the shadows, he may forget the touch of the sun. He may be happy to fester beside him, until their inevitable ends. Perhaps he could keep this glow all to himself, and cradle it in his filthy, greedy palms. And perhaps, when he woke, Viktor would not venture back up above the smog to continue his life beneath the rays.

How poetic, Silco mused to himself as he finally closed the distance. Tips of fingers tracing lightly over those dastardly vertebrae, watching the body shift underneath the ghostly touches as he moved his outstretched hand along the length of Viktor’s side. Their destination ending to perfectly slot against light, finger shaped bruises around his hip. A brush of lips over a sharp shoulder blade in apology, only to be met with a resounding sigh.

“It is early.” A muffled voice complained, and Silco was helpless to resist a smile when the lithe body squirmed back to meet him. “Go to sleep.”

Silco gathered Viktor in his arms, now that it had been silently demanded of him, something pleased unfurling in his chest as he blocked the warm lighting from meeting that skin any longer. And it had been at Viktor’s insistence. He offered an appeasing hum, even as he propped himself further up on an elbow. With one arm supporting his weight, the other continued its exploration, starting at the worryingly concave space below where ribs met. Then, upwards, to rest over a beating heart.

Silco’s crooked nose ended up behind a soft ear, but was slowly dislodged as the man beneath him turned. Bleary eyes wavered on Silco’s face, ever the slowest to wake up. Groggy, comfortable, sated. It was a pleasing sight, even as those arched brows furrowed up at him.

“You are thinking too much.” Viktor insisted hoarsely, nimble hand stroking over a scarred cheek in an attempt to draw him down into a chaste kiss. And who was Silco to deny? Especially when his lips met a pliant mouth, still sluggish from his slumber. They may have been kissing for mere moments, perhaps hours, it was impossible to tell. But they did eventually part in spite of Silco’s reluctance, and Viktor shoved his head forcefully into his collarbone. Enough to convince him to lay on his back so he could be clung to, receiving the treatment of a living body pillow.

“Sleep.” Viktor commanded, and it could have held much more weight had his mouth not been smothered awkwardly against Silco’s chest. He did not call him on it, and let his eyes slide shut to avoid any further nagging - content to bask in the moment until sleep did eventually come to claim him as well. Soothed by the gentle snores that had started up beneath his chin, lulled into a light nap.

[instantchaossweets]

[honey-tongued-devil]

▶[Arcane preference] reacting to you wearing their clothes [Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Sevika, ]

If you know me, hello little deers, I'm back! If you don’t know me, welcome! Just a heads-up that I don’t use "Y/N," but rather the impersonal "you," and even though I talk about clothes, no sizes or weight are involved. Enjoy the read!

Jayce:

  - It’s not that rare when you’re together; he’s a real gentleman through and through. If it’s cold, he’ll give you his jacket, his scarf, anything to keep you warm  

  - But when you’re the one taking his clothes, it’s different  

  - When he sees you walking around the room in his shirt, just after waking up, something in his brain malfunctions  

  - It’s how it fits you, no matter how big or long it is, it seems like it was made just for you, to give you that look  

  - And to him, it feels like some kind of subliminal ad, as if the universe is making you so attractive in the simplicity of that gesture just to tell him he needs to hurry up and put a ring on your finger so he can enjoy that sight every day  

  - It’s hard for you to get anything done in the morning when he wakes up with those thoughts  

  - Those are the days when you stay in bed, cuddling under the covers, with him looking at you, hand on his cheek, getting more lost in you by the second  

Viktor:

  - For Viktor, the idea of a “little thief stealing his clothes” is an interesting one  

  - He’s never been a fan of tight-fitting clothes, plus, with his physique, it’s rare for anything to fit snugly anyway  

  - That’s why, except for his Academy uniform, the rest of his clothes are comfortable and at least two sizes too big for him, without mentioning Jayce's oversize ones in his closet  

  - What Viktor didn’t expect was that, once you started liking them, you’d just take them straight out of his drawer  

  - The first time he knocked on your door to ask if you’d seen his shirt —the very one you were wearing— he first stopped, confused, wondering how it had ended up on you  

  - And then, though he didn’t show it, he paused to notice with satisfaction how well it wrapped around your body  

  - Sometimes he pretends to forget his clothes at your place, just to see them on you, and to get them back with your scent on them  

  - For the nights when he feels lonelier  

Ekko: 

  - Communism  

  - There’s not really a strong sense of what belongs to whom at the Tree, although some clothes (jackets in particular) eventually get so personalized that no one dares to take them anymore  

  - The first time you grabbed Ekko’s jacket, it was simply because you were freezing, it was really cold, and he was resting, so he didn’t need it  

  - But when he saw you wearing it, his pupils dilated so much you could notice it despite his very dark eyes  

  - Ever since then, it’s him who gives it to you and insists that you wear it, because he likes it: there’s something extremely intimate and deeply personal about walking around with you in his jacket  

  - It’s like marking you as his, but really, also reminding himself of it  

  - And Ekko may be proud, but one thing you quickly and painfully learn in the alleys is to say ‘I love you’ before it’s too late, and that small possessive gesture makes him feel fulfilled because it’s like he’s telling everyone that he couldn’t live without you 

 

Vander:

  - Vander’s clothes have this super-secret ability to change depending on who’s wearing them. For example, what are shirts on him turn into dresses on you  

  - When you put them on, even just for the sake of convenience, you find yourself laughing in front of every mirror you pass by  

  - And if he notices, he can’t help but hug you from behind, leaning down to rub his nose against your neck, smiling against your skin  

  - “You know,” he says every single time, “it looks better on you than it does on me,” and no matter how false it might be, in his eyes, it’s truer than almost anything else  

  - After seeing you a few times in his grown-up man's clothes, he decided to dig through an old box to find the clothes from when he was younger and mend them before leaving them folded on your side of the bed, like a little gift  

Silco:

  - Silco’s strangest habit was the connection he had with his clothes: they looked like Piltover garments, except for the boots and the shirt under the velvet vest, yet they were torn, poorly mended, and worn out in several places  

  - Despite being the richest man in the undercity, he never changed them  

  - The only newer piece in his wardrobe that he used to wear was his coat, which was in perfect condition, scented with cologne, and lined with soft velvet that followed the direction of your fingers when you touched it  

  - Sure, there were ceremonial outfits, pajamas, and something comfortable yet always elegant, but he had worn them so little that they almost didn’t seem like his  

  - That’s why one day you simply decided you were bored, and while he was in a meeting, you could take the opportunity to try on the ones that fit you  

  - But that little fashion show from his wardrobe to the mirror probably took longer than expected, and definitely you were too focused, because you didn’t notice the tall figure watching you, leaning against the doorframe  

  - “Don’t take that off, I’ve got an idea or two,” his voice broke the silence, making you jump  

Jinx:

  - Her clothes are more like a flea market than a wardrobe: there are men’s clothes, women’s clothes, from Piltover and Zaun, intact, held together by metal staples, clean, splattered with paint, torn from explosions, some so small you wonder who they could even fit, and some so large that you and at least four of her father’s henchmen could comfortably fit in them with room to spare  

  - She’s the one who tells you to grab something from the pile the first time you ask to help her with her calculations and experiments, and in the end, you choose something comfortable rather than something intact or clean  

  - It took her a good half hour to notice, and then another hour to stop talking about it  

  - It was something she hadn’t done since she had a family, sharing clothes with someone else, and suddenly she realized just how much she missed it  

  - Every now and then, she’d give you oversized shirts on purpose, just to disappear under the fabric and snuggle up to you, where she felt sheltered enough to feel less vulnerable  

Vi:

  - Vi’s mentality was interesting because, by accident, if she noticed you were eyeing someone’s clothes with interest, somehow the next day those clothes would end up on your bed  

  - Vi would do anything for you; if it were up to her, you’d be dressed in pearls and gold, but neither the place nor her situation allowed it  

  - That’s why she never offered you her clothes: the older ones were tattered, barely definable as rags, which she stubbornly patched up every month  

  - The new ones were stolen, spoils from street fights, but they always came in looking battered and worn, or worse, stained with blood or strange substances, so they weren’t good for you  

  - When she saw you wearing a sweater from her wardrobe, stained and burned in spots, the first thing she felt was guilt  

  - She hated not being able to treat you the way she wanted to  

  - But from that day on, she made sure to at least wash her clothes before putting them away, and slowly she learned to love the clothes you stole a little more than the others  

  - That sweater, for example, she would defend it with her life  

Caitlyn:

  - Whenever you stayed over at her place, she always made sure to provide everything for you: slippers, socks, pajamas, anything you might need  

  - And it was always the highest quality you had ever seen  

  - So seeing you in her clothes wasn’t new, although she sometimes liked to have you try on things she didn’t wear anymore, partly because she couldn’t due to her important name, and partly because she spent half her time in uniform  

  - Those little fashion shows almost always ended with her on top of you, while you are very busy figuring out how to stay quiet so none of the servants, or worse, her parents, would catch you  

  - It didn’t matter if the clothes didn’t suit you, being able to see you in so many different lights made her fall even more in love with everything about you  

  - The final blow? One day she decided to look through the enforcers’ uniforms to find one that would fit you, and for the first time, she saw you in clothes that matched hers  

  - There was something about it that made her hope that uniform would change the chemistry of your brain too and make you join the force, just so she could spend more time with you, just so she could see you like that more often  

Mel:

  - For Mel, it wasn’t an event: she was used to everything, mastering her emotions, and seeing you wearing something of hers had only left her confused for a second, from which she quickly recovered, smiling at you  

  - “It looks really good on you, you know?” she had asked  

  - It didn’t bother her. Objectively, you seemed stupid borrowing those elegant clothes tailored exactly to her body  

  - It almost felt like heresy to wear the clothes of a goddess-like figure. But the goddess had sensed something, and she began buying and commissioning outfits for both you and her, matching, so you wouldn’t feel like you were missing something  

  - But there was one moment, a specific one, where seeing you in one of her dresses had left her speechless  

  - When you told her that the sweater was so beautiful it was almost a shame knowing she couldn’t wear it on the day you’d marry her  

  - And Mel Medarda came from a land of war, where it was hard to get attached to people, let alone objects  

  - Yet from that day, that piece of clothing became a constant for her, even if it meant layering or pulling it down to keep her shoulders bare  

  - Because it no longer just warmed her skin; it began to warm something deeper, something she hadn’t even realized she had  

Sevika:

  - Her clothes reflected her line of work: dirty, unpleasant, dangerous  

  - But despite that, she would drape them over you herself, no matter how worn they were: if she thought you might be cold, without a word, you’d find a sweater or hoodie on your shoulders  

  - And even though she’d glance at you from the corner of her eye, she wouldn’t stop watching you for a single moment when you wore something of hers  

  - It was a matter of homeland—there was no ownership in Zaun, not even last names, as even the family you belonged to was irrelevant compared to what you could do  

  - And the gangs, thugs, and troublemakers wouldn’t hesitate to steal what was yours  

  - But you were hers, and you couldn’t be stolen. And that shirt was hers, but she didn’t feel mutilated, like she normally would, when you wore it  

  - In fact, she loved it, opening her arms to invite you to snuggle up, holding you carefully so the prosthetic wouldn’t bother you, adjusting the clothing on you ten, a hundred times, almost unconsciously  

  - And when you wore her clothes, it felt like for a little while, you could wear her skin too, to understand her better, and she suddenly seemed more vulnerable  

[terrapia]

ARCANE SEASON 2 ACT II

[fayesia]

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ Arcane 18+ Twitter Links ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

*please be logged in for links to work*

🌀⋆｡𖦹°🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Jayce_______________________________

ᯓSize difference

ᯓTaking a seat

ᯓGrabbing your hair

ᯓSquirting

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Viktor_______________________________

ᯓMunch

ᯓPleasing you with his mouth and fingers

ᯓHelping him through his pain

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Silco________________________________

ᯓRewards

ᯓUsing Brothelworker!reader

ᯓMaking use of his tie

ᯓUsing your mouth

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Vi___________________________________

ᯓRiding for her

ᯓShe loves to tease

ᯓTaking you from the back

ᯓYearns to please

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Jinx_________________________________

ᯓFast fingers

ᯓShe loves pushing you to your limits

ᯓLoves to get on top

ᯓWorks her tongue perfectly

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Ekko________________________________

ᯓWet and dripping

ᯓSticky

ᯓUsing his tongue

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Vander______________________________

ᯓFilling you up

ᯓLoves carrying his good girl

ᯓRewarding his favourite waitress

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Caitlyn______________________________

ᯓEating her up

ᯓ"Just friends"

ᯓRiding her

ᯓPounding you into her royal bed