18+ only, 26/ female- call me D/ still new/ starwars is my current obsession/ in love with too many characters.
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Patching Up & Post-Mission Debrief (AU)
AKA a 3 character sketch that got way WAY out of hand.
Close ups:
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i love reader. idc if she’s a bimbo or a crybaby or a little unhinged. good for her tbh. i love her in all shapes and forms. she is barbie. she is a doctor and a student and a barista and she can take five dicks at the same time. what a beautiful world we live in.
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I'm living and dying by this oh oh my God I want STORIES
I'm back on my Echo and Crosshair bullshit and none of you can stop me.
I think Crosshair has never felt such an urge to yap at someone before Echo showed up. He is so confused by it, just as much as Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech are, but the moment Echo joins them and spends daily life with them all he wants to do is talk. He follows Echo around at night after missions, chatting, without even realizing it. He tells stories, updates him on their first ever missions, actually shares random thoughts that pass through his mind. The moment they're back on the Marauder and done for the day he just can't stop himself. He tries, oh boy he tries. He has to straight up cover his mouth with his hand sometimes because whatever is happening to him is unbelievably embarrassing. And Echo has no idea this is out of the ordinary. He just assumes this is how Crosshair is. He is near silent around anyone outside of the squad, only opening his mouth to say something snarky, and when they're alone he lets all of those pent up words out. Echo just lets it happen. And he's happy to have someone to distract him.
Hunter, in particular, is perplexed. This simple, snarky, quiet man he's known forever is sitting on his bunk wide eyed telling Echo his like fifth fucking story and Echo is just nodding along, interjecting where it fits, and is none the wiser that this is not typical Crosshair behavior.
Hunter: what the fuck is happening? Tech: *looks where Hunter is staring* Ah, yes, I believe this is what they call 'making a new friend.' It makes sense that you'd have no idea what that's like since we do not have any other friends. *walks off* Hunter: >:(
The image of Crosshair being so pissed about wanting to yap is so funny to me. He has this battle inside himself like why do I want to talk to him so much this is so humiliating I can't believe this is happening to me what is going on and Echo is just like cool I am making new friends isn't this wonderful? All my new friends want to talk to me :)
Cross starts to mellow out after they get used to Echo being around all the time and soon they start switching off who is quietly sitting and listening while the other chats without pause or breaks.
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Bad Batch Incorrect Quotes
Rex: So, how's adjusting to your new squad going? Echo: Well, my net worth has certainly gone up. Rex: *confused* Uh, what? Echo: Yeah, you know. What you're worth when you're caught in a net. Rex: Rex: I'm sorry can you please explain that. Echo: We were running out of fuel on our last assignment so we landed in a Separatist port and Hunter put on a disguise and turned Tech in. We got six thousand credits for him. Rex: Six. Thousand? Echo: Yeah, turns out he's the lowest-value option at the moment, but Wrecker said he got turned in the last time. He's worth ten thousand, because he's blown up, like, a ton of important stuff, apparently. Hunter and Cross are probably in the eleven to twelve k range but they can't agree on who's worth more. Rex: Rex: You sold your brother!!!??? Crosshair: *offscreen* Are you even brothers if you haven't sold each other once? Tech: When we were cadets I sold Crosshair to Hunter for two credits. Crosshair: Those were imaginary credits, Tech. Tech: Which was the agreed-upon currency at the time. That transaction has never been voided, by the way. Legally, you still belong to Hunter. Hunter: Please, void it. I don't want him anymore. Here, take your two fake credits. Wrecker: Don't say that! Come here, Crosshair. I want you. Rex: *still on the comm* YOU SOLD YOUR BROTHER? Echo: We obviously got him back, Rex. Chill out. We fueled up in like ten minutes and went to retrieve him. He's fine. Rex: So you sold him and then you stole him BACK? Tech: Obviously. This squad would not survive without me for longer than the time it takes to refuel. That is why we usually sell Hunter or Wrecker. Additionally, they do not require extraction as they usually do that on their own.
Echo: I'm worth three thousand at the moment. But ten thousand is coming, wait and see! Rex: *frightened ori'vod noises*
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Blue Eyes
Paurings: young!silco x f!reader
MDNI/NSFW
Masterlist

Summary: Silco has a crush, and after bumping into her in the mines, you're invited to the last drop.
At the end of the night, you find yourself hand in hand with Silco, leading him to your home.
Wordcount: 3.2
Warnings: pinv sex, mirror sex, fingering, body worship, petnames, creampie, tiny bit of cockwarming, praise, mutual pinging, overstimulation, edging? There might be more.
AN: I want him, It's not a joke anymore. It never was, just hand him over riot.

Thump. "Oph!-" her vision darkened, the helmet suddenly thrust over her eyes. Annoyance bubbled up inside her as she pushed the headgear back with a huff. But then, her vision filled with blue, and everything on her mind trickled out of her.
Frozen, they stared at one other. "Apologies," a striking man mumbled beneath his breath.
"You'll have to excuse him." A big hand gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, the sudden touch pulling her back to reality. She looked up only to realise their awkward collision had a witness, a big burly man with a pickaxe slung over his shoulder. "Always in the clouds this one," he chuckled and shook the blue eyed man's shoulder.
She gave him a tight-lipped smile before her gaze fell back to his companion, face stinging.
It was her fault. She'd been reading the report and not paying attention to what was ahead of her, resulting in this poor, unsuspecting man as the object of collision.
He was taller than her, and a few pieces of hair hung loose from his tie-back, framing his dirtied face. Soot and dust covered his sharp features, but amidst it all were two beautiful pale blue eyes. A faint sense of recognition hung over. She she'd seen the men before.
She shook her head prematurely, lips straining to keep up with her thoughts. "No, no. It was my fault. I didn't look where I was going." Her cheeks were heating. She could only imagine the blush staining her face, inconveniencing her further.
Blue eyes exhaled a silent laugh, lips curving into a silly smirk. He seemed to be relieved the girl had not taken offense. "I should've been paying attention."
"It's fine," she mouthed to him and smiled, feeling her face heat further. Hastily, she turned her gaze toward the ground, insitent on avoiding any further embaressment.
"Have we met before?" The bigger man asked. "I recognize you."
"Well," she gestured toward the cramped tunnel that the three found themselves in, deep below the surface. "We seem to be colleagues."
"Aye, that we do," he chuckled, scratching the back of his head in thought. "But that's not-" he began, suddenly interrupted by a nudge from the blue-eyed man. The two exchanged a few looks between them in a rather clear attempt of secret communication.
She looked at them suspiciously. "No, I believe you're right, I've seen you boys somewhere, but not here. That I think I'd remember," she said, noting their polar opposite appearances.
The slim man scoffed playfully, shaking his head as if surprised by the sheer lapse in memory from the both of them. "You're Felicia's friend, aren't you? I've seen you around the Drop."
And so, it clicked. These were her bozos.
A lightbulb turned on above the big man's head as he called her name in sudden recollection. " . . . Of course, how could I forget," he said and gave the slim man a smirk.
The girl imagined the act was supposed to be concealed, but they weren't very subtle men. "That's right, Vander and-"
A slender hand reached out to her. "Silco," he introduced himself.
"Silco," she nodded and shook his hand. It was warm to the touch. Moreover, it was stronger than she expected. Impressions clearly mattered to him. "That's right," she chuckled, the out of place laughter catching the men off guard. "Or was it bozo?"
Vander's eyes widened. "Aye," he tried to repress a laugh, resulting in a hearty cough instead. Silco retracted his hand to rub at his neck, his own face tinging a pale hue of pink beneath all that grime. "She told you about that, eh?"
"Im sure I've only heard her call you by your actual names once or twice," she smiled coyly, gaze flicking back to blue eyes, only to be met by them head on.
Had he ever taken them off her?
There was a something about the smile he gave her then, something fond and safe. Had she not known him for less than five minutes, she'd describe his expression as loving.
Suddenly thoughtful, Vander rubbed his chin, a remnant of laughter still glimmering in his eyes. "That's more than I knew."
"Some things are just for the girls," the girl confirmed. "Although, It was only a matter of time before I figured you out." She subconsciously tapped her nails against the clipboard in her hands, reminding herself that she's still on active duty. "Well, boys. I have to get going." She gestured with the papers to make her point. "It was a pleasure to officially meet you, Vander-" dhe shook his hand. "Silco," she nodded, unable to keep a smile from her lips.
He returned the gesture and recalled her name aloud. " . . . , it was nice to see you."
"That it was," Vander agreed. Taking a step to the side, she allowed them space to move past her. "Hey," the bigger man stopped her. "If you're interested, we're having a small get-together tonight at the Drop if you'd like to stop by, I'm sure Felicia told you about it."
"She has, actually. Thank you," the girl began, eyes twinkling sincerely before her lips fell slanted in apology. "But im not sure I can make it."
"Ah well . . . Should your schedule clear," a well worn smile worked its way onto Vander's lips.
"You'd be very welcome to join us," Silco added and gave her extra space in the narrow tunnel, gesturing 'ladies first'.
It seemed Vander had almost expected the line from Silco, as if practiced or simply insync. "I'll see what I can do . . . See you around, Vander, Blue eyes," she nodded farewell to the duo and made her way past them, but not before she could catch a glimpse of the teasing grin cracking up the usual kindness in Vander's face.
She'd never been a brazen woman, but she felt safe to flirt with the Silco in front of his larger counterpart. They were a handsome pair, there was no question about it. But there was something about him.
And so, they went their separate ways. The men's shapes disappeared into the gloom of the tunnel, their laughs echoing along the uneven walls of the mine as Vander slung an arm around Silco's shoulders.
She smiled to herself. Brothers in arms.
-
Lather that night, the four found themselves as the last occupants in the Last Drop.
"I see why you like her."
Silco tapped the countertop impatiently and looked up at his counterpart. "Im not a good dancer."
As always, the bars lanterns emenated a warm, soft glow throughout the premises. Casting shadows and illuminating the inhabitants with a complimenting glow.
Vander shook his head and sighed, smiling a smile reserved for his little brother alone. "Take her by the hand, and the rest will come naturally."
The slender man rubbed his temples. "You're greatly overestimating my apptitude for dancing, brother."
Vander shrugged. "She's had an eye on you all night."
Just then, the Last Drop filled with music pleasantly vibrating through the open space. Bouncing on the walls and bleeding out into the streets.
"Aye, well . . . You can't back out now," Vander said and nodded toward the jukebox.
Turning around, blue eyes immediately fixed on the beautiful girl. Swaying to the music, the girl friends moved in rhythm with each other.
His gaze followed her every movement. The way her hair caressed her skin with each soft fling of her head, the way her hips and chest curved with every tune of the guitar. The way her face blushed so prettily.
Silcos body all but moved on its own.
-
Hand in hand, they walked along the Lanes, enjoying the mellow bussing of the city. The clacking of their heels and the occasional shared laughter were the only sounds accompanying them on their journey.
Most of it was spent in comfortable silence, heavy eyes wandering further than their feet. He could not take his eyes off her. Smitten would be the right word.
She released his hand to unlock the door. Yet, it found a way to her body. Without exchanging a single word, gentle fingers traced the skin bare to him, drawing patterns along her back and waist.
Once open, they barely got the door closed before crashing into one another. Silco smoothly slid his hand behind her head before pushing her up against a wall and their lips connected.
On collision, she moaned. Simply because of its unexpected nature and the joy she got from it, even more when he grinned against her.
The tips of his fingers slid beneath her shirt, but stopped, eyes connecting to hers. Heavy breathing filled the silent apartment as they spoke through their gazes.
It was not the colour of blue she noticed now, it was the shape of his eyes and the curve of emotion. She saw the blue in terms of calm and faultless reliability. She saw the lust and longing lining his eyelids, weighing them down as he looked upon her.
Patiently, he waited for her approval.
But most of all, she saw the deep dark of his pupils, expanding beyond possibility. In them was the adoration he had for her, the need for her that enlarged them so.
Silco whispered her name, and it fell from his lips like a prayer. His voice was breathless, close to a moan. All from being in her prescence, from feeling the softness of her skin. "Can I see you?" His fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt, sliding the fabric between his digits, restlessly tugging and releasing.
Nodding heavily, she gave him the go-ahead. "Please take it off," she murmured, and a small appreciative hum escaped him. Fisting the fabric, he stepped back and pulled it over her head. From the strain in his fingers, she realised he'd torn it in half if he'd had her permission.
He was close to a whimper at the sight of her, eyebrows knitting together in pain. "Beautiful," he breathed, in absolute awe of her topless body. Softly, he raised his hand. The tips of his fingers coming down on her collarbone, tracing its length. He slid them lower until their weight began making indents in the hills of her soft flesh.
She manouvered her hand behind his head and hooked a finger through his hair-tie. Pulling it loose, dark brown waves surrounded his face. "Prove it to me." She cupped his cheeks and slid her hands through his hair, catching it in the movement and combing it behind his ears. "Show me," she whispered, entangling strands between the tips of her fingers and lightly tugging, gaging his reaction.
And when the desired hiss left him, she pulled him in for a kiss.
Silcos' hands slid down her ribs, thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts in the motion. One weared off behind her back while the other found purchase beneath her thigh. He hoisted her into his embrace with one easy movement, lean arms flexing around her.
"Second floor to the right," she managed between kisses and wrapped her legs around his hips. Suddenly, she felt his bulge grinding against her core.
-
The road to her bedroom was a rough one. He carried her easily, his body strong from toiling in the mines. But struggling through the dark while kissing resulted in a few corners bumped and lean shoulders bruised. But nothing would deter them, curses and laughing handled the hurt.
Entering, he looked around the room. "Mirror," he asked. It wasn't much of a question, but it got the massage across.
"Left," she answered on instinct, driven purely by confusion. "What's-"
"I'll prove it." He set her down and turned her around. His breath caressed her shoulder, warming it up for a kiss while his hands slid down her arms, causing goosebumps to cascade along her skin.
They stopped on her hips, and Silco kneeled, thumbs hooking into her skirt. Their eyes locked through the mirror, and as her hand found his head to softly scratch his scalp, she nodded.
Silco pulled it down, kissing every inch of new skin exposed to him until she could step out of it and kick it to the side. All the while she watched him through the mirror, observing how that adoring man worshipped her, how tenderly he placed each kiss.
Retracing his steps, lips brushed up her side, ocassionaly pecking her calf, thigh, and hip. His hands were already too busy working on his own shirt and pants, resulting in a state of undress by the time his lips reached her shoulderblade.
Her hand shifted, reaching back to nest in the back of his neck.
When done, a lean chest pressed itself against her back and arms wrapped around her torso like hungry snakes, pulling her against him. They skimmed in different directions as he placed his chin on her shoulder, studying her every reaction to his touch.
One travelled upward, brushing fingertips in the valley between her breasts. Grinning, he watched her skin raise goosebumps and nipples harden. "You're perfect," he breathed, hand wrapping around her breast. Humming, she reclined her head against his shoulder, fingers tugging at the hair on his nape.
But silco wasn't done, kissing the throat now available to him. "Keep watching, dove. I want you to see yourself as I do." While massaging her breast, his other hand slid down her abdomen and between her legs. She gasped, head jerking to attention as fingers dipped into her core, wetting themselves before moving up to circle her clit. "Do you trust me?" He asked, breathing hot on her neck, teeth softly sinking into her muscle.
"Yes."
. . .
"Then kneel."
So she did, and so did he. Settling down in his lap, back to chest, she could feel his erection against the curve of her ass. His arm wrapped around her waist and hovered her above his member. "Ready?" He asked, placing a soft kiss on her ribs.
She grabbed his thigh with her free hand, keeping herself steady. "Please yes," she begged, squirming against him, trying to feel ehat little she could of his inches.
Keeping their eyes on each other, Silco lowered her onto his member. A gasp released in unisome, eyes twinkling as he breached her core and filled her perfectly. A pained humming emenated from him as her core put pressure around his inches. "Am I hurting you?" He hissed, squeezing her breast tenderly. Needing to move.
She shook her head, breathlessly thinking of an answer as she watched him through the mirror. There was a desperate, carnal look in his eyes. He was hungry for her. "It's great," she whimpered. "You're great." Her fingers scratched the back of his head soothingly as she tilted her head back to kiss his jaw. "Please, please don't stop, Silco."
His member twitched inside her, and in pure reflex, she squeezed around him. Because inspite of being so desperate to fuck her, to feel and move inside her. He made sure she felt good first. She would give that man everything he wanted and more.
Silco widened his legs and hoisted her up. And just as she was about to complain, whine that she didn't want to lose the connection between their bodies. He thrust into her, smooth and deep, taking advantage of his hold on her to meet the rut with his hips. "Fuck," she cried.
"That feel good, dove?" He breathed, nipping and pecking her shoulder in equal amount. He repeated the motion, setting a steady pace while never once taking his eyes off her rocking body.
"Yes, y-yes . . . "
"Beautiful girl," he groaned, hand brushing up her chest, gently feeling her soft throat beneath his coarse skin. Moving further, his thumb brushed across her lips, tracing the smile that twitched on her lips. The muscles of her face unable to decide between displaying happiness or lust. "Look at you." He cupped her cheek, fingers gently stroking her cheekbone as his lips found her neck.
In the mirror, their bodies were gleaming with sweat as they moved together. Rocking rythmically with each thrust, her breasts bobbing and muscles flexing. Her eyes were hodded with desire as she looked at him, at them.
He was right, she was pretty, pretty as he fucked her.
Meanwhile, Silco looked dishevelled and torn apart. At the point of breaking from the godly woman in his lap. Hair hung over his forehead, and sweat lined his temples. His hands were veiny and strong, feeling her beneath his palms. One arm moved higher, circling her chest so he could massage her breast.
Watching him do this, prioratise her that way . . . It was enough to make her come from that alone.
The wet sounds of thrusting and dull thumping filled her room. In each other's ears, their breathing was strained. Filled with pleasure and effort, pumping one another full of lust.
But she couldn't tear her mind from Silco's state. He looked like he'd been ready to come for quite some time. "Are you, mmh- close?"
Silco released a breathy chuckle as he scraped his teeth along the top of her shoulderblade, attempting to stay sane. "Since I entered you," he admitted, voice close to a whimper. "Too hard not to."
He's been overstimulating himself for her sake. Driving himself to a point of insanity, for her sake. She reclined her head, hand sliding to his face, tilting it to meet hers. "You're too good to me," she whispered and kissed him.
Silcos eyebrows knitted together and released an open mouthed whine against her lips. She could feel him twitch and pulse inside her. Her words hadn't made it easier for him. "It's ok, im right behind you." Her thumb brushed his temple, comforting him in his abyss. "It's ok," she whispered again.
A shudder tore through her seat, and he spilt inside her at the validation. Hot seed filled her up and trickled out of her, coating his own member.
No longer moving, he breathed heavily against her, catching his breath. Like this they stayed for a moment or two before their lips found eachother once again and a long slender hand slithered to her clit. She'd spoken the truth, she was not far behind him.
She felt him inside her, behind her and on her. All continuously working for her pleasure alone. In spite of getting his own and already being worn out, he soldiered on. His arm around her torso was more to keep himself upright now than it was to keep her. "Perfect," he slurred. "Dreamt of this since the first time I saw you, . . . ," he whispered her name, fingers quickening their pace.
She could've finished herself of, in truth, she wouldn't have minded after the resilience and performance he'd given her. But she wouldn't, because she could tell bringing her to climax ment a lot to him, and that was all she needed.
With a final moan, pleasure surged through her body and his name fell from her lips. Praising him, thanking him.
In spite of their tiredness, he hoisted her off his member and lifted her up. Body in his arms, she guided him to the bathroom and tenderly cleaned each other off, soft eyes and shy smiles exchanged between them.
-
"They set us up," she whispered, snuggly cradled in his arm after they'd gone to bed.
Silco chuckled, giving the back of her head a kiss. "Im glad they did."
"So am I."
-
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I am unwell
something something despite the all horrors and tragedies of the world, love was there and that's all that matters
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What did you think about hallucination Silco ?
I actually thought that bit was rather interestingly done.
Clearly it's not actually Silco - it's Jinx's own mind conjuring an apparition of him. You can tell, particularly when he first appears, because even though his voice is Silco's, the words that come out of him have a decidedly Jinx-esque quality to them: "Oh, it's a hell of a place."
But essentially, my interpretation is that in that moment, Silco's appearance is a manifestation of Jinx's very last hope. I very much believe she wanted to die. But for all she may believe she's a monster, she is still human, and humans at their most primal core are animals who are driven by a base will to survive. Mental illness can become so loud and all-consuming that it drowns any trace of that instinct and keeps it far beyond reach, but my interpretation of this scene is that her subconscious psyche conjured Silco for her in that moment as a last ditch attempt to pull her back from the proverbial edge. He was there the first time she lost everything; he took her in and gave her a lifeline to hold onto. And here, she once again finds herself alone, broken, and grieving - so her mind reaches for what it knows.
Silco. The only person in her life who has seen every possible side of her, and still deems her to be perfect.
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First time smut writer: Um. Hope this is OK? It's only a bit of smut at the very end of the epilogue and you can skip it, it's ok. So sorry, um. Oh dear me. Please don't judge me. Nobody read this omg what have I done 😳
Seasoned smut writer: *ringing bell* Come get uR PORNOGRAPHY! 10k pwp, it's KINKY AS HECK so share it with all your friends!!! If you've got any suggestions for my Kinktober just drop it in the comments, I will write whatever wet, messy & DOWNRIGHT FILTHY fic about these two idiots 👏
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The first week Echo is around Crosshair doesn't even speak to him. He looks vaguely displeased, nods or shakes his head as answers to everything, grunts in his direction when he wants his attention for something. Mutters quiet 'reg's to refer to Echo. Echo is half convinced Crosshair hates him, regrets having him join Clone Force 99.
Until Echo mentions he likes strawberries. He didn't even say strawberries were his favorite fruit. Just that they had strawberries and when asked if he wanted some he said 'Sure, I like strawberries.'
The next day there are two cartons of strawberries in his locker on the Marauder.
He has no idea where they came from but he's not complaining about free fruit so he washes them and cuts them up and shares them with the rest of the batch. And every so often another carton of strawberries will show up in his locker. He has no clue who this mystery strawberry gift giver is, just that they seem to always know when he's out of strawberries. He knows its one of the batch but they all swear up and down it isn't them so he lives with these gifted berries until one night he catches Crosshair shoving another carton of strawberries into his locker.
The next day Echo washes the berries, cuts them up, puts some sugar on them (the way Cross prefers to eat them), and sits down next to Crosshair to silently share the strawberries between them. After a bit of silence he says "ya know, I like raspberries, too. If you ever can't find strawberries." Crosshair side eyes him but just hums in acknowledgment, continuing to share the little bowl of fruit between them until they've both had their fill.
The next time he opens his locker there's a fresh carton of raspberries shoved inside.
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Chapter Six: The Brink of Madness
Chapter 6: The thought of you being gone is maddening to Silco. He failed you. Like he failed Jinx before. Will he ever find you?
The hours passed in a blur of frantic searching, all-consuming dread, and a gnawing emptiness that ate away at Silco from the inside. His mind couldn’t rest, not with the thought of you—gone—haunting him like a shadow he couldn’t escape. Every corner of the city seemed to mock him, and every sound, every fleeting whisper of movement, made his pulse race, his breath catch in his throat, as he searched for something that might pull him back from the brink.
He couldn't remember the last time he had slept or even eaten. His body was on autopilot, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him so heavily he couldn’t think straight. His hands were slick with sweat, and his throat burned with the effort of calling your name over and over.
"[Y/N]!"
The cry was raw, desperate, reverberating off the cold, empty walls of the alleys and streets. There was no answer. Nothing but the wind and the echoes of his own madness.
Every search had led to another dead end. The pieces of you, your belongings, the faint trail of blood—each one sent him spiraling further into a place he never wanted to go. He couldn’t stop thinking about that knife, your blood on it. It was all-consuming. A constant reminder of his failure.
The thought of you gone… He couldn’t accept it. Not yet. He refused to.
There had to be something. Someone who knew where you were. Someone who was hiding you, keeping you from him. He would find them. He would make them talk. There was no price too high.
"Silco."
Sevika’s voice cut through his thoughts, but it barely registered. She had been by his side the entire time, following his lead, trying to get him to focus, trying to keep him grounded.
But how could he be grounded when every part of him was shattered? How could he keep his mind intact when the very reason for his existence—the one person who kept him tethered to this cruel world—was out there, bleeding, suffering, or worse?
He turned toward her, his gaze wild, pupils dilated with panic. He could feel the weight of his emotions bearing down on him, and for a moment, he didn’t know if he could hold it in any longer.
"She's gone, Sevika." His voice was hoarse, broken, a mere shadow of its usual cold precision. "I can't find her. I can't bring her back."
Sevika didn’t respond immediately. She stepped closer, her expression unreadable, before she finally spoke.
"You’re wrong," she said softly, her voice steady despite the tension that vibrated in the air. "You haven’t found her body, Silco. And that means there's hope. Don’t give up on her. Not yet."
His chest tightened at her words, a dull ache spreading across his ribs. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to hold on to that tiny shred of hope. But everything inside of him was screaming that he had failed you—that it was too late, that the bloodstains were all he had left of you.
He reached for the edge of a nearby crate, his fingers curling around it as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart entirely. His breath came faster, his heart racing, as panic threatened to swallow him whole.
"She’s not dead, Silco," Sevika insisted, stepping forward, her voice unwavering. "But you’re not going to find her by falling apart like this."
His vision blurred as his throat tightened with emotion. The tears were back, and this time, he couldn’t stop them. They slid down his face in hot, unstoppable streams, the sharp sting of them only adding to the suffocating pain in his chest. He hated it. Hated how weak he felt. How useless. He was supposed to be the one in control, the one everyone feared, the one who never showed weakness.
But now, he was reduced to this.
"I need her, Sevika," he choked out, his voice barely more than a whisper, the rawness of it almost unrecognizable. "I can't live without her. Not after everything we’ve been through. I promised her... I promised I wouldn’t fail her."
Sevika’s expression softened for the briefest moment before she placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip firm but not unkind.
"You didn’t fail her. And you're not going to. You just need to stay strong. For her."
The words barely registered. They couldn’t. Not with the ache in his chest, the nagging thought that he was too late. That he had already lost you.
But he couldn’t let go. Not now. Not ever.
He wiped his face with the back of his hand, trying to regain some semblance of control. The anger, the guilt, the overwhelming fear—it threatened to overtake him, but he shoved it down, deep where it could fester and grow, where it could keep him moving forward.
Sevika stood still, waiting for him to gather himself, and finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke again.
"We keep searching," he said, his voice low and filled with an unspoken promise. "I’ll tear this city apart if I have to. But I won’t stop until I find her."
Sevika nodded, her lips curling into a slight but knowing smile. She could see the fire in his eyes now, the spark that he had been fighting to hold onto.
"That’s the Silco I know."
He turned away, but the pain was still there, a constant throb in his chest. His every step felt heavier, every breath harder to take, but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop.
Not when you were still out there. Not when he still had a chance to bring you back.
He would not fail you. Not again.
The city stretched out before him, dark and unforgiving, but Silco didn’t see the dangers anymore. All he saw was the path forward. The path to you.
And he would burn this world down to find you.
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Chapter Five: The Weight of Loss
Chapter 5: Silco finds traces of you, but the opposite of what he hoped for. Has he really failed?
The warehouse was silent when Silco arrived. Too silent. His boots echoed against the cold concrete floor as he moved cautiously, his mind racing with the image of you—alive, safe, waiting for him. That was the lie he held onto as he stalked through the dark, his every step heavy with dread.
The air was thick with the acrid smell of old chemicals, rust, and something else—something metallic, sharp. It hit him like a punch to the gut, the instinctive recognition of blood. His heart skipped, a chill creeping down his spine.
His men spread out, weapons drawn, sweeping through the grimy space. But Silco didn’t need them to search. He already knew. He could feel it. He could smell it.
Then, through the darkness, they found it.
A scrap of cloth. Your jacket, torn and stained. A trail of blood leading toward a pool on the floor. Silco’s breath caught in his throat as he moved toward it, his body tense, his muscles coiled as if prepared to run. He reached for the fabric, fingers trembling as he lifted it to his face. The scent of you lingered in the fabric, but it was tainted now—tainted with the unmistakable tang of blood.
A low growl rumbled in his chest. His heart hammered against his ribcage. His breath came in shallow, jagged gasps as he fought to hold onto his control.
No. This isn’t real. It can’t be.
He moved faster, ignoring the shouts of his men as they continued their search. His eyes, wild and frantic, scanned every inch of the warehouse. There was nothing. No sign of you. Just the blood—the blood that made the pit in his stomach grow deeper, darker.
“[Y/N],” he called out, his voice rough, almost desperate. “Where are you?”
No answer.
He moved toward the back of the warehouse, his steps becoming more frantic, more erratic. The shadows seemed to press in on him from every side. His thoughts were a whirlwind—chaos, anger, guilt. He had failed you. He’d promised to protect you. And now…
He stopped.
His eyes locked onto something in the corner of the room, something dark and twisted. His breath caught in his throat as he saw it—an object, a weapon, stained red. The sight of it made him recoil, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away.
It was a bloody knife. Your blood.
He knelt down beside it, his hand shaking as he reached for it, his fingers brushing the handle. His chest tightened, and for a moment, everything went still. The world seemed to collapse around him, the walls closing in, suffocating him.
No. No, no, no.
A dark thought settled in his mind, cold and cruel, and he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t silence it.
She’s gone. She’s dead.
The air around him felt like it was closing in, choking him, and for a moment, Silco thought he might suffocate in the weight of the realization. The crushing, unbearable truth.
He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. All he could do was stare at the knife—the blood—and the empty silence that followed.
It was gone. She was gone.
This is my fault.
The thought hit him harder than any blow ever could. It was his fault for letting you go into the fight. It was his fault for being too busy, too distracted by his own schemes to keep an eye on you.
The hollow ache in his chest spread, filling him with nothing but despair. He was left with nothing. Nothing but the bitter taste of failure, the weight of his helplessness.
“Silco?”
Sevika’s voice cut through the fog, but it sounded so far away, like it was coming from another world. She had approached him without making a sound, her face grim as she took in the scene before her.
He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t.
“Silco, listen to me.”
His breath was ragged as he stood slowly, turning to face her. His eyes were wide with something darker than anger—something raw and twisted, a depth of grief that even Sevika could feel in the air between them.
“I… I can’t find her. I don’t know what happened to her,” Silco’s voice cracked, the words barely leaving his lips. His gaze never wavered from the bloodstains, the chaos.
“She’s gone, Sevika. I’ve lost her.”
“No.” Sevika’s voice was firm, cutting through his despair. “No, you haven’t. We haven’t found her body. This isn’t over.”
Silco shook his head, the motion slow, like his very body was weighed down by the crushing grief that threatened to consume him whole.
“It’s too late. I failed her.”
Sevika���s hand on his shoulder was a grounding force, but it did little to ease the storm raging inside of him.
“She’s not dead, Silco,” Sevika said again, her voice softer this time, but with a tone of certainty. “We’re still looking. We’ll keep looking. There’s a chance—”
But Silco couldn’t hear her anymore. His mind was trapped in the endless loop of his own guilt. His fingers tightened around the knife in his hand, and his vision blurred as anger bubbled beneath the surface. Anger at himself, anger at the world for doing this to you.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to tear the whole world apart for what they had done to you.
But there was nothing left to destroy.
---
Hours later, Silco stood outside, his back to the cold, silent night. The city around him was alive with its usual noise, but it felt distant now, like a dream he couldn’t wake up from. His eyes scanned the horizon, but there was nothing there to anchor him.
His mind was consumed by you. He had to find you. He couldn’t lose you.
He wouldn’t lose you.
And yet, as he stood there, staring out into the darkness, something gnawed at him, pulling at the edges of his resolve. A whisper of doubt. Was it too late? Had he truly failed?
He didn’t know if he could survive losing you.
And the thought of it broke him more than anything else ever could.
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Chapter Four: The Breaking Point
Chapter 4: You get abducted by Silco's enemies, as Silco will have to bear the blow of you missing
The cold bite of metal against your wrist was the first thing you noticed when you woke. It was suffocating—the sharp, bitter taste of fear clung to your throat, choking your every breath. You couldn’t make sense of your surroundings. The light was dim, flickering like a dying star. For a moment, you thought it was a nightmare, but the pain from your side—the gnawing, burning pain—told you it wasn’t.
You tried to sit up, but the chains around your wrists yanked you back down, a sharp tug at your already bruised skin. Your heart thudded in your chest, panic slowly creeping in. The room smelled of damp stone and decay, the walls closing in around you. There was no way you could escape—no way you could fight back with the injury still fresh.
Your mind raced, and as it did, a single, horrifying truth settled in: You were alone.
The reality crashed down on you in waves, and your stomach turned. Whoever had taken you hadn’t cared for you like Silco did. Whoever had taken you wanted something from him. Something far worse than your life.
And they were going to use you to get it.
---
Silco paced through the main chamber of his headquarters, the shadows in the room stretching long and ominous. His sharp gaze darted from the scattered reports, the paperwork detailing the latest moves from the rival factions, to the door.
He was supposed to be meeting with Sevika—supposed to be making plans to retaliate. But his thoughts kept returning to you. You hadn’t come to him for hours now. The guards outside your room were silent, no update on your condition, nothing.
A deep unease gnawed at him.
His patience was wearing thin, and with each passing second, a part of him became more certain something had gone terribly wrong.
He made his decision. His heart pulsed with anger—fear twisted with fury. He stormed toward the door, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails cut into his palms. As he stepped into the hall, he barked for Sevika, his voice harsh, demanding.
"Where is [Y/N]?"
Sevika turned toward him, her brow furrowing at his tone. “She’s in her room. Resting. You told us not to let anyone disturb her.”
A sharp, icy feeling coiled in Silco’s chest. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he snapped, “I don’t care what I told you. Go check on her now."
Sevika hesitated for a moment but then did as ordered, her boots echoing down the hall as she moved to your room. Silco stood there, eyes fixed on the shadows ahead, knowing deep down that something wasn’t right. The weight of his fear was like a vice on his chest. He could feel it in his bones—the chill that heralded disaster.
When Sevika returned, her face was ashen, the usual confidence wiped clean from her features.
“Silco... she’s gone,” Sevika said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
The words hit him like a physical blow. He blinked, disbelief flickering across his face, but it was quickly replaced by a burning, volcanic fury.
“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” he demanded, his voice rising, cold as ice. “Where is she?”
Sevika took a breath, and in her eyes, Silco saw the fear that matched his own. “We searched the entire compound. She was taken... during the night. There’s no sign of forced entry. It’s as if someone knew exactly how to slip past our guards.”
Silco’s pulse spiked. His hands clenched so tightly that his nails drew blood from his palms. The idea of you—his promise to protect you—shattered before him. A thousand thoughts collided in his mind, each more horrifying than the last.
“You... You let them take her.” His voice was thick with venom, cold and calculating.
Sevika’s face hardened. “We weren’t prepared for something like this. Whoever took her, they knew exactly how to hit us.”
Without another word, Silco turned on his heel, already heading for the exit. His thoughts were consumed with you, with the image of your face—the way you had looked when you’d last spoken to him, the promise you’d made. He wasn’t going to let it end like this.
“Gather the men,” he ordered, voice like steel. “We’re going after her. Now.”
---
Hours passed in a blur of shadows and movement as Silco’s forces scoured the undercity. His rage fueled him, each street they searched, each lead they chased only adding to the fire that consumed him. Nothing mattered but finding you.
His mind raced. The fear of losing you felt like a knot in his gut, tightening with every passing second. What had they done to you? Were you still alive? Were you—
No. No, he couldn’t think like that. Not yet. Not while there was still time.
He refused to think of what might have happened to you in the hands of his enemies. His thoughts flashed back to Jinx, to the way she had been manipulated and broken. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let it happen again. Not to you.
Then, a voice crackled over his earpiece, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts.
“We’ve found something.”
It was one of his scouts, and the urgency in their voice was unmistakable. Silco’s heart skipped a beat as he gripped the receiver tighter.
“Where?”
“Abandoned warehouse, East side. They left traces of blood—definitely hers.”
A surge of dread washed over Silco. His hands shook with rage, but he steadied himself. His voice was calm, though there was an edge to it that sent shivers down his spine.
“Prepare the team. We’re moving out immediately.”
He wasn’t sure if he would make it in time to save you. But he would damn well make sure they never got the chance to hurt you again.
You had become more than a pawn in his game. You were his.
And anyone who touched you—anyone—would learn exactly what Silco was capable of when the people he loved were threatened.
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Chapter Three: Shadows of Guilt
Chapter 3: You and Silco seem to come to an understanding but fate is never kind or so it seems as danger always lurks around the corner
The days passed in a blur of pain and frustration. Every movement reminded you of your injury, every breath a reminder of how close you had come to death. Silco kept you under a watchful eye, even when you didn’t see him. You felt his presence lingering like a storm cloud—constant, heavy, and protective to the point of suffocation.
He didn’t trust anyone else to care for you. Medics were scrutinized and interrogated. Guards were stationed outside your room, their orders clear: no one got through without Silco’s approval.
At first, you fought against his restrictions. You hated being confined, hated the vulnerability that came with depending on others. But as the days went on, you began to see it for what it was.
Silco wasn’t just angry. He was scared.
It was a strange realization, one that left you uneasy. The man who ruled the undercity with fear and fire wasn’t supposed to be afraid. He wasn’t supposed to care.
But he did.
And it terrified you.
---
“You’re healing slower than expected.” Silco’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.
You glanced up from where you sat on the cot, your fingers idly tracing the edge of the bandages around your side. He stood in the doorway, his silhouette sharp and imposing.
“I’m fine,” you said, though the words lacked conviction.
Silco stepped inside, his gaze narrowing. “You’re not fine. And you won’t be until you stop acting like you can handle this on your own.”
You sighed, leaning back against the wall. “I can’t stay here forever. I’m not weak.”
“No,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous edge. “You’re reckless. And if you keep this up, you’ll end up dead.”
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. You didn’t respond, unsure of what to say.
Silco moved closer, his hands clasped behind his back. “You don’t understand, do you? What it would do to me if I lost you.”
The vulnerability in his tone caught you off guard. You looked up at him, searching his face for answers.
“Why do you care so much?” you asked softly.
His expression hardened, though his mismatched eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper. “Because you matter to me,” he said simply. “More than you know.”
The room fell silent, his words settling over you like a heavy blanket. You wanted to argue, to tell him he was being ridiculous, but something in his gaze stopped you.
“You’re not just another soldier,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “You’re family. And I don’t let family slip through my fingers.”
You swallowed hard, your chest tightening at the intensity of his words. “I’ll be more careful,” you promised, your voice barely above a whisper.
“You’ll do more than that,” he said firmly. “You’ll listen. And you’ll trust me to keep you safe.”
For a moment, you considered pushing back, but the exhaustion in his eyes gave you pause. Silco wasn’t just protecting you out of duty. He was protecting you because he needed to.
“I’ll try,” you said at last, the words feeling inadequate.
His lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile. “Good. That’s a start.”
---
Later that night, as you lay awake in the dim light of the room, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The guards outside your door were silent, their presence both comforting and unnerving.
You closed your eyes, trying to push the unease aside, but it clung to you like a shadow.
In the darkness, a plan was already unfolding—a plan that would shatter the fragile peace you and Silco had found.
Far from the safety of your room, whispers spread through the undercity. Whispers of revenge. Of leverage. Of taking something precious from the Eye of Zaun.
You were the perfect target.
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