Synopsis: Viktor didn't expect to enjoy a punk show, but something about the Firelights drew him in. He also didn't expect to be putting graffiti up around the city with a friend he met at the rock show, but here he was.
Trigger Warning: illegal activity (street art, breaking & entering), mention of sexual assault, mention of violence
A/N: This doesn't use any second person POV, but the whole thing is gender neutral pronouns, and no names are mentioned. This is also highly personal for me, as someone in the local punk music scene who was sexually assaulted. Admittedly, some characters are a bit OOC, and I used Mel as a stand in to get Jayce and Viktor into a dive bar. Which, maybe in another life, she would do?
Also, Viktor is a student at MIT. I've never actually been to Cambridge, but I assume it would be like any other city? If not, please just message me and I'll change it to Boston.
Viktor did not want to be here.
Loud, heavy rock music assaulted his ears before he even made it into the bar that Jayce had picked for tonight. Apparently, Viktor needed to get out more. Even so, he didn't know why Jayce had insisted on dragging him to a dive bar - he couldn't be more of a fish out of water, hobbling in on his cane.
Jayce quickly went over to the bar, tapping on a woman's shoulder. Viktor rolled his eyes; of course a girl was why they had ended up here tonight. Jayce had a habit of trying to get Viktor out of their lab, but he often forgot Viktor (unlike him) had little interest in hookups. Even though there were plenty of other students in his graduate program that had the time and desire for such activities, Viktor had gotten into MIT with a full scholarship, was getting paid for his research, and his Visa depended on it.
All that to say, he didn't want to be distracted.
Jayce, however, had other ideas as he came back over to Viktor, two cups of liquor and his new companion in tow.
"For you, the overworking genius!"
Jayce handed him one of the cups, and Viktor rolled his eyes. "Jayce, I really don't think I should be here-"
"Viktor, you barely sleep, you don't leave the lab, and you only talk to me and the lab assistants. You should be socializing before you forget how. Now, drink."
Viktor rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his liquor. It tasted like some kind of whiskey, but he wasn't entirely sure. Jayce switched his drink orders based on what would impress his date, and Viktor didn't drink enough to know what he liked.
Jayce's date - Mel - led the trio further into the bar, towards a small, makeshift stage. Jayce kept his hand on Viktor's back to make sure he couldn't escape. They stood close enough to the stage to see, but Mel kept them from getting closer. Jayce looked at her, raising an eyebrow.
"We don't want to be up there with your friend when they get going."
Viktor had no idea what that meant, but it made the desire to leave that much more prominent. What kind of concert was this? In a small bar? Viktor had barely been to bars, but all of the ones that had live music had been fairly tame. A myriad of college students, all sipping craft beers and listening to a calm blend of acoustics, usually while he discussed something with a professor.
The loud music stopped abruptly as a group came onto the stage. Their lead, a man with white dreads and white facepaint on, led the way for the rest of the band. They all wore masks, but his attention was immediately drawn to the bassist. They had a mohawk attached to their mask, and piercings up and down their ears. They were dressed in a combination of black and neon, glowing under the blacklights. Their bass had sloppy paint on it, too, unlike the guitarists' on the other side of the stage.
In the quiet, Mel turned to Viktor. "This is the Firelights, they're one of the best new punk bands in the entire city. Ekko is the only one who shows their face. No one knows who else is in the band."
Viktor looked up at the stage with a newfound appreciation. He knew what it was like to want to hide, but still show your work.
"This is their first performance back, rumor has it that they've been in jail."
Viktor looked startled, "Jail? For what?"
"Who knows," Jayce said. "They're literally punks, could be anything."
Ekko started running mic checks as the others started playing haphazard sounds on their instruments, running through the soundcheck quickly. Then the band turned in towards one another, forming a circle in the center of the stage as the bar's other patrons began to crowd in around them. Viktor clutched his cane for support, and Jayce put an arm around his shoulders. He would never say it, but Viktor was glad for his silent worry.
Suddenly, all of the lights in the bar went dark, and a flurry of green lights started blinking around the room. A slow, eerie melody started, and Ekko's voice came out harshly over it.
"Cambridge, it's been a long time since we've been in this bar. But that's okay, because we're here now, and we're not fucking going anywhere."
Suddenly, blacklights washed the stage, lighting up all of the neon colors being worn by the band, and the guitarist and drummer came to life. A bass melody accompanied underneath, and Viktor was shocked that he didn't hate it.
Ekko's vocals sounded like some blend between rap and the metal music Viktor had heard from some of the lab assistants. His voice layered perfectly with the instruments, despite how rough it sounded.
The entire band together sounded slightly disconnected, but somehow it still managed to sound… almost, nice? Viktor couldn't put his finger on it. He'd never listened to punk music before, but he was most definitely intrigued.
As the first song ended, Ekko turned around, facing away from the audience as the bassist kept a steady melody going.
"Alright, motherfuckers. When I turn around, I better see this fucking pit open up! Do not fucking disappoint me!"
The bass player stopped, and the air was thick with anticipation. A pit? Opening up? Viktor had never been so confused in his life. Physics was a cakewalk compared to this.
"Let's go in 3, 2, 1!"
Ekko turned around, the music came in loud and the crowd in front of Viktor, Mel and Jayce became a flurry of movement. From what little Viktor could see, it looked like people were just running into each other, as a circle opened up to give them a little more room. Did everyone just start… fighting each other?
Viktor looked at Mel, seeing as she seemed like the only one who had any idea what was going on here, and she seemed completely calm. If anything, she looked like she was enjoying herself? What was going on here?
As he watched the crowd, he could see people picking each other up when they fell. They didn't seem to be trying to hurt each other, but he couldn't for the life of him understand why people would willingly jump around in that way. How had he gotten into this situation in the first place?
But the more he listened, the more he felt the energy around him, the more he understood. The band's anger floated out over the speaker as Ekko yelled about all of the injustices life had dealt him so far, and all the things that society could never offer. He even threw in a line about "shitty healthcare" which Viktor appreciated.
By the end of the show, Viktor was nodding his head along, as enthusiastically as he could. When he looked over at Jayce, he looked completely unimpressed, but Viktor couldn't say he was surprised. Jayce had grown up much better off, and the lyrics probably weren't as relatable for him.
Ekko thanked the crowd, and the bar lights came back up as the music over the speakers went back to the loud rock that had been playing when they came into the bar. Viktor found himself almost sad as people began to move out of the stage area, signifying the end.
"Well, that wasn't the most enjoyable thing. Let's get to a real bar." Jayce declared, putting a hand around Mel's shoulders.
Viktor just shook his head, "I think I'll go home for the night."
Jayce shrugged, "As long as you go sleep, and stay out of the lab."
Viktor waved him off as he walked to the door, already calling an Uber on his phone.
***
While Viktor couldn't get in the mosh pit, that didn't mean he hadn't enjoyed himself. When he got home that night, he found himself looking up the band on social media. They didn't have much, but they did have a twitter, which all the band members seemed to post on.
Even if he hadn't been impressed with their performance, he definitely would've been impressed by what he saw online. The band had held two fundraisers, one for homeless people with disabilities, and one for victims of sexual assault. While the first one was more personal to him, he was nevertheless impressed with the charity work they had done.
The Firelights also posted a lot of calls to action, for universal healthcare, for the disbanding of the US government, for cuts to the military budget, the list went on. And, with their following, they also posted about people who needed donations because they fell on hard times, accompanied by a receipt showing that they also donated.
Viktor browsed through their socials into the night, fixating on their work. Just before he drifted off to sleep, he saw a new post about another show the following Saturday.
Well, Jayce couldn't complain about him going out, could he?
***
As suspected, Jayce had been surprised, and not entirely thrilled, to hear that Viktor was going to watch the Firelights again. But, when Viktor assured him that he didn't need accompaniment, Jayce seemed to be much more supportive of the idea.
So that's how it started; Viktor would see when there was a show coming up on Twitter, and if his classes and research schedule didn't get in the way, he would go. He became addicted to people watching at the shows, especially the teenagers who threw themselves around and looked so happy to be alive.
It almost reminded him of where he grew up, in a rundown village with very little joy, and having to find it in the few community events his family could attend. Growing up poor in the city was very different, he assumed, but he could still see himself in the crowd, maybe even in the pit, if not for his leg.
It frustrated him to not get the full experience, but he was also just happy to see what he could. Although his health had stabilized, they weren't sure if he would be able to keep his leg, or even how long he would be able to go out on his own. Maybe Jayce was right, that he should take the chance to socialize while he had it.
While Viktor was entranced by the band, he didn't know that the bassist in particular had taken interest in him. Not many people loyally attended as many shows as he had, especially since their anonymity meant there were no friends and family aside from Ekko's to attend. Beyond that, it was strange to see someone come constantly, who never got in the mosh pit. They were too far away to see Viktor's cane.
Tonight was like any other Saturday night, now. Viktor had closed up at the lab around 9, and had come over to the divebar the Firelights were playing tonight. They went on at 10:30, but there was another band after them, this time. Viktor had never stayed for any of the other bands, but he had heard a lot of excited chattering for the closing act, so he decided to stay and listen to the music.
To his surprise, he didn't mind this band, either. He didn't think they were as good as the Firelights, but he enjoyed himself nonetheless. As he got ready to leave for the night, he (literally) ran into someone.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I mu-"
"It's okay! My fault!"
He looked at the person in question, who was beaming up at him like they had won some kind of lottery. They were dressed similar to anyone else in the bar, with black, ripped jeans, fishnets, a crop top and vest, but he caught the black and neon Firelights patch adorning their battle vest.
They noticed him staring, and smiled even brighter. "They're one of my favorite local bands, I make all of their shows."
Viktor swallowed nervously, not really sure what to do in this conversation. How long had it been since he'd talked to anyone besides Jayce outside of the lab?
"I see you at a lot of their shows, too. You must like them a lot, right?"
He nodded.
His new companion took a real look at him, giving him a once over. Suddenly, Viktor felt even more nervous than before. This person was attractive, possibly dangerous, and was sizing him up when he was here, alone.
"Wanna know a secret?"
Did he? Did people often ask these things? But as he pondered, gripping his cane tighter, the mystery in front of him leaned closer.
"You're gonna have to follow me, if you do."
They turned on their heel and walked out of the bar and, against his better judgement, Viktor followed them.
***
When Viktor got onto the street with his new companion, they immediately took a right. He could be leading himself to his own murder; it's not like he could fight anyone off with his cane.
This was such a bad idea.
But he still followed them down the sidewalk, even as he opened his phone and shared his location with Jayce. At least, if he disappeared, someone would know where he went.
He slid his phone back in his pocket as they stopped at an intersection, and for the first time, he notice that they were carrying a backpack. He should really turn around.
But, when they turned and smiled at him, and took off to the right, he found himself following, anyway.
They were walking fast enough that no one would stop them, but slow enough that Viktor could keep up, even with his cane. The two of them were walking farther and farther away from civilization, and Viktor was getting progressively more nervous. His paced slowed, and they turned around, a look of genuine concern on their face.
"I'm sorry, is this too much of a walk? I didn't even think-"
"No, no, it's fine. Just a little nervous that you're walking me to my death."
They laughed, walking back to him and standing right at his shoulder.
"Do you see the underside of the bridge ahead?"
He nodded.
"We're going there. There's spray paint in my bag."
"Isn't that illegal?" Viktor had never done anything illegal; the only rules he'd broken were ones that hindered his research. He didn't think graffiti was so easily forgiven.
"You were just at a punk show. You didn't think that any of us did street art?"
He paused. He knew that there were rumors that the Firelights had been arrested, but he wasn't sure if he put any stock into it before. But looking at his current company, he figured he was being naive.
Knowing that there were potential legal problems put a halt to his adventure, unsure of if he wanted to risk his visa.
Sensing his unease, his mystery person grinned up at him. "If it goes wrong, I'll take the fall. I made you come with me. I have a record, so they'll take me instead."
That was sound logic. It still made him a little uncomfortable, but it was sound all the same.
He continued to follow them to the underside of the bridge, where he saw the beginning of a mural. It was of Medusa, and above it in bold, true graffiti style, read "Dead men don't rape."
"What do you think?" They asked him, cautiously.
"I can see why you like the Firelights. Very similar messages, no?"
They smiled as they dropped the bag, pulling out a can of black spray paint. "You could say that. Wanna try?"
Viktor paled at the suggestion, "I'm not very artistic -"
"Come on…" They paused. "What's your name?"
He paused, should he give them his name? But he was already all the way out here, against his better judgement, and he was just thinking about how he should enjoy what moments he could before his health could tank.
"My name is Viktor."
They smiled, extending a hand and offering their name.
"Okay then, Viktor. Spray paint this wall with me. There's something in this music that speaks to you, let it out."
"I don't know -"
"It's punk; it doesn't have to be pretty, it just has to be raw."
They handed him a different can of black spray paint as they went up to the image they had clearly been working on for a long time.
He debated what he could possibly do that would match the amount of skill had gone into his companion's work, but then he remembered, it didn't need to be pretty. So he went up to an empty part of the wall, and braced himself with his cane as he shook the paint can.
An hour or two later, Viktor was pretty proud of himself. It was no work of art, but it was there, and that's more than it was before. A crude sketch of his current project, a leg prosthetic powered by a small, but rather dangerous, battery was outlined by the words, "Don't ask permission."
The not-so-mystery person threw the can down, looking at him with a huge smile on their face.
"Not bad, Viktor. I hope it felt good."
Viktor nodded. Surprisingly, it had felt good. So many people were telling him not to do things, so many official proposals, he felt swamped. He just wanted to make things that helped people, but he was getting caught in paperwork.
"I didn't realize it would."
They picked up their bag, throwing the empty spray paint bottles into it. "I didn't either, at first. But that's why we do things, right? To feel better, even if it's not by much."
Viktor had never heard it put that way, but it made things click into his head in a way they hadn't before.
"Come on, I'll walk you home, or to somewhere to catch an Uber, or something. I don't want you to run into someone who's actually dangerous."
***
Their relationship went on like this for a while, Viktor would run into them after shows, and they would show him the underside of the city. Usually, they would take him to work on a street art project they had started before meeting him. They explained that you should always move around, lest you get caught by authorities. Viktor just nodded, entranced by their existence and hanging off their every word.
He hadn't noticed when his curiosity changed to fascination, but he knew that one night, looking at them hanging off a bridge to spray paint "ACAB" near the police station, he definitely had a bit of a crush on his eccentric friend. Sometimes, they would get a far off look in their eyes, which only made him wonder what they had been through. They mentioned having a police record, and he wondered why.
Tonight, they told him they had a surprise. They called an Uber to get them outside of the bar, and the ride out of the main city was quiet. Viktor had no idea what their plan was; they had never gone far enough to need transportation before. He figured they had taken pity on him, they were always careful not to have too much physicality in their exploits.
They emerged on a quiet street, in front of a gas station. They thanked the driver, and grabbed Viktor's hand to lead him into the dark.
"Now, what we're doing is technically illegal, but don't worry about it too much, okay?"
Viktor raised an eyebrow. "More illegal than normal?"
"Touche. Maybe not."
The duo grinned at each other, choosing to walk in companionable silence. The neighborhood they walked through looked almost like a suburb, but it was more dilapidated than the suburbs he was used to seeing throughout the city. Quite a few of the homes looked like they were abandoned, and the ones that weren't still looked run down.
"This is where I grew up," They said quietly, slowing down beside one of the abandoned houses.
"I grew up similar, just… across the world."
They laughed quietly as they looked around to see if they had any company. Satisfied that they weren't going to get into trouble, they led Viktor quickly up to the front door, pushing the door open.
The inside was just as dirty as the outside, but it looked like it had once been a nice home. It was two stories, and the staircase sat just inside the door. They grabbed his hand, and led him farther inside. Normally Viktor would be startled at the contact, but he found himself welcoming it.
Straight through the foyer, they emerged into a room that seemed to be the old living room. It was devoid of furniture, water damage threatening the walls, but the room was lit with candles. They varied in size, and color. Some looked like they were scented, but it wasn't an overwhelming smell. In the center sat a blanket, and takeout from a local Italian restaurant.
"What is this?" Viktor asked, taken aback.
"I know it's not very conventional, but I just really needed to talk to you. And you deserve to be taken care of." The looked back at him, for the first time looking shy as they led him over to the blanket.
"What did you want to talk about?"
They motioned for Viktor to sit down first, taking care to make sure he didn't fall and his cane was positioned where he could reach it, then they sat across from him.
"I… haven't been entirely honest."
Viktor's mind raced, what weren't they honest about? Were they going to get him arrested? Had they actually killed someone?
They took a deep breath, and mumbled something.
"What?"
"The reason I knew you came to every concert is that I am in the band."
Viktor's mind raced. It made sense, but then again, it didn't make any sense at all. One of the band members had noticed him? He always had to stay near the back, and he didn't stay after their sets. The only one who worked their merch booth was Ekko, and occasionally another friend in a mask.
"Which one are you?"
"The bassist."
The confusion set in deeper. His new friend, the kindest person he'd ever met, the one who made sure to take care of his leg, the one who drug him through the entire city encouraging him to leave his mark on it, was the bassist of the band he'd been obsessing over for months?
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
They bit their lip, looking away. "You know the rumors of the reason the band went on hiatus, right?"
Viktor nodded. The normally confident person in front of him took a shaky breath.
"We weren't always so secretive about our identities. When we were in our old band, we didn't have the masks, or anything. But also, our guitarist wasn't someone we knew. We brought him in when we met him at a house show."
Viktor nodded along, but their hands were shaking, and they looked ready to cry. He had never done it before, but he reached across the empty space, with the still packaged food, to grab their hands. They took another breath, looking back up at him.
"Well, that was a mistake, because he… raped me."
Viktor's heart stopped in his chest. No one deserved that, but especially not the light of a person in front of him. His friend had begun to sniffle, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around them.
"We formed a new band, after Jules got out of prison, but the guy was still running around, coming to our shows. Every time we had a bad performance, it was because he was in the audience. I was just waiting for him to find out who I was."
They looked back down to the floor. "Ekko had enough of the silent torture, so one night, we just snapped. We cornered him after a show, and beat the shit out of him. The good for nothing barkeep called the cops on us, and Ekko and I ended up doing time for it. Gave me a lot of time to write in prison, though."
Viktor nodded, the pieces clicking into place. "You wrote the ones about killing rapists."
They nodded, "And why I paint 'dead men don't rape' on every street corner. I wish I'd killed him that night."
Viktor pondered this slowly, turning the information over in his head.
"I understand if you don't want to hang out with me anymore, I know this is a lot all at once, but I needed to get it off my chest."
Their hands started to tremble. "There's so much fucked up shit that's happened to me, starting in this house. But there's been good, too, but not enough to make me forget the bad. And I like you too much to let you think you know me-"
"Like how?"
Viktor knew he should work harder to stop their train of thought than focus on his own petty romantic ambitions, but he couldn't help himself. Where this conversation ended directly depended on their answer.
They bit their lip, pausing for a moment. Viktor sat with bated breath.
"I've been crushing on you since I saw you at the third show."
He nodded, slowly, and a range of emotions washed over their face. Viktor was having none of it, though, suddenly pulling confidence from nowhere.
"Come here, sunflower."
They paused, before crawling around the food and to Viktor. He pulled them into his arms, and even though the position was awkward, he knew that he needed to do this now.
"There is nothing wrong with what you did. If I could, I'd beat him with my cane, myself."
They snorted at this.
"But you are too good of a person. You're not perfect, but you deserve more than this. You deserve more than I can give you, but I appreciate every moment I've spent with you. I can't imagine breaking this many laws with anyone else."
They pulled back to look at him, "Not even your lab partner?"
"We only break lab rules, not the law. Technically."
They laughed, burying their head back in his chest as Viktor gently massaged their back.
"Would you maybe be my boyfriend? And consider this our first date?"
dynasties & dystopias || silco x gn!reader || masterlist
Underground utopia, dynasties and dystopias Fear is never an option, so dying's not a real phobia
Synopsis: You are stunning, the most sought after escort in all of Zaun. When you stumble into Silco's inner circle, you barely expect to survive, much less be stuck in a sexual stalemate with the kingpin of the Lanes.
dynasties & dystopias || silco x gn!reader || pt. 3
Underground utopia, dynasties and dystopias
Fear is never an option, so dying's not a real phobia
Synopsis: You are stunning, the most sought after escort in all of Zaun. When you stumble into Silco's inner circle, you barely expect to survive, much less be stuck in a sexual stalemate with the kingpin of the Lanes.
Masterlist
Trigger Warning: none for this chapter
"Leave us."
Soon after Silco's announcement, the meeting had adjourned after going over figures for each business, and the upcoming shipment out of Piltover. After Jinx's previous mishap, she was currently "banned from topside." You didn't think that would stop her, but who were you to judge Silco's parenting? It's not like you had seen your own parents in over a decade. Besides, you had more pressing issues at hand - like how to murder the man on the other side of the desk.
"I think that you left some information out of our original terms, Silco."
He let out a low chuckle. "Ridiculous. Did you think I took you in out of the goodness of my heart?"
Silco sat in his chair and lit a cigar, puffing on it slowly. "You won't actually have to run any of the businesses, I just needed-"
You marched up to him and, in a moment of bravery or sheer stupidity, grabbed the cigar out of his hand.
"No, I will actually have to step in. Do you know why, Silco? What you've done to me? Now I've not only got a target on my back because people think I'm from top side, but because I am on your petty little council and I'm engaged to you."
Silco tried to speak, but you cornered him in the chair. "You know just as well as I do that you have just burned my reputation to the ground, and I will never work in Zaun again unless it's for you. No one else will touch me, unless it's to get at you, and that rules out my entire clientele besides an arrogant, handsy, jealous little worm. What the hell do you think you're doing?"
You hoped he would incinerate by the power of your stare alone. The man was still in shock, and you momentarily questioned your resolve. No one talked back to him and lived to tell the tale, aside from his daughter. His blue eye hardened again, the black one as empty as ever.
"What is it about your other work that you will miss so much, exactly? You have more than enough time to yourself, far better accommodation and pay. I have done you a favor."
"A favor?" You puffed on his cigar. You didn't like them, but you could tell it irritated him. "Hah. A favor, drag my reputation through the mud. For all I know you're about to use the city's sex trade to traffick kids. No one else puts it below you, you fucking prick."
Silco moved in a flash you thought him incapable of, and slammed you into the wall, a hand around your throat. You just smiled - weakness spotted.
"If you wanted more, you only had to ask, sir. After all, we are betrothed!"
He sneered at your words, leaning closer and increasing the pressure on your throat. You must've gone mad from your life's plan going up in flames around you, that was the only explanation your logical brain could provide. You laughed in his face, your body shaking against his hand with the movement. His eye was angry, confused, calculating, and for the first time, you saw lust underneath it.
He may think he knew all of your weaknesses, but he underestimated your greatest strength, the only one that mattered in your industry.
Soon, you would be able to read him like a book.
***
Everything in Noxus was tinged red.
Your humble home was in flames, your parents long since gone to war for the Queen, leaving you behind.
You weren't even sure who was burning your house down, this time. Was it Demacians? Did Piltover get a taste for war? Strays who wanted to bring their bloodlust to the city known for it?
You couldn't stomach it anymore. You had to get out.
You tried to make your way to the docks, but you felt something pulling you down. Hands made of blood sprung from the ground, and as you tried to run faster, they pulled harder, harder, harder, until you were dragged from the land and pulled down into the river.
You tried to scream, but the water that filled your mouth tasted coppery. Your whole world was bathed in blood.
But then again, that's how your parents raised you to live.
You jerked awake, looking around your bedroom to ground yourself. You were in your private quarters, above The Last Drop. Still in the Lanes, where you ran to escape Noxus, to escape war, your parents, the bloodshed, the everything.
You had tried so hard to bury yourself in your work, learning the people around you, never letting them get close. You had done well, moving on from Piltover when the Noxian counselor started sniffing around too close. You had done everything you were supposed to, even losing your passions of painting, of inventing, of magic, and now a man had outmaneuvered you. In the age of magic being harnessed by science, of the orb that you saw him send Jinx off with, you were already in enough danger if anyone found out there was magic in your blood. Much less if they knew anything more about your backstory.
Your sea of praise and worship was drying up, and he had made you reliant on him during a time that it was almost impossible to run due to the Zaun/Piltover tensions. If you weren't still so angry, you'd be impressed.
Two loud knocks shook your entire apartment.
"Boss wants you."
"Thank you, Sevika. I'll be right there."
You took your time getting ready for the day. You had played the role of the demure escort for long enough, and instead of Silco believing it was a role you played, he had taken you as naive, stupid, and easily manipulated.
That stops today.
***
"I need a list of every known brothel and club in the Lanes, and a bodyguard with me to meet with the heads of the establishments."
"I didn't -"
"You will give me expendable income or protections to bribe them to heel. Fear doesn't work for sex workers, we live in a constant state of it. If you want loyalty, you buy it."
"Now wait a-"
"I'm willing to take a temporary cut to my payments, in order to supplement the money being given to establish me the baron of the sex trade. After, we will renegotiate terms, depending on the situation."
Silco was seething in his chair, which was oddly attractive. You loved seeing him angry, you wanted to see how far you could push before he was trying to kill you again.
That line of thought should probably concern you more than it did.
"Do we have a deal, sir?" You bat your eyelashes at him, as you held your hand out over the desk. Silco's glare deepened, but he took your hand and forcefully pulled you to stand over the desk.
"Just because I gave you the title, doesn't mean I can't take it away."
"Then you shouldn't have announced it in front of my greatest admirer. He'll be checking to see that you were telling the truth, we have to put on a better show now."
With the mention of Finn he released your hand and leaned back into his chair, calculating.
"Why are you so willing to help now?"
Your eyes twinkled. He was treating you as a person now, no longer an instructable subordinate.
"I don't like you. I don't like your operations. But you announced me as your fiance, and gave me a position that didn't exist before. I'm not stupid."
"What do you know about Finn?"
You rolled your eyes. "What do you know of my interactions with Finn?"
He shrugged. "He's a regular of yours, you may have information on his whereabouts. Jinx said she overheard him talking about you."
"So that meeting wasn't by chance?"
"It was, but it certainly sped up the process."
You paused. "Finn was… possessive. More so than someone should be over a working escort. He wanted me to leave the life to be with him, but gave me no guarantees that I would be taken care of."
"Has he mentioned me at all?"
"I doubt he was thinking of you while getting his dick sucked, sir."
Silco's blue eye widened at the crass language before returning to his normal, detached expression, a slight smile pulling at his lips.
"It seems that I was right in making you my fiance."
"Why did you do that? It would've been enough for him to see me with you."
"It is none of your concern."
Your anger flared up again. Just when you thought you were getting somewhere, he clammed up again. There was a book laying to your right, and you threw it at him. He barely flinched as he walked around his desk, resting his hands on your chair as he bent over you.
"It became my concern when you dragged me into it, sir."
"You are to sit on our unofficial council. You are to back what I say, and argue my case where you see fit. You are good enough at reading situations to understand when that is needed. You would never be promoted so quickly if you were still just an escort."
So it was exactly what you thought was happening. "Their respect was slipping, and you needed a status symbol as backup."
He narrowed his eye, but you stared right back. The tension in the air was palpable, and you wondered if he saw out of his right eye. By all accounts, the scarring should have made him completely unattractive. For some reason, it didn't.
Silco stood, fixing his tie. "I trust that I can now expect you to know how to dress and act in meetings. With your promotion, you are no longer expected to be at all of them."
Hey just wanted to let you know in Dynasties and dystopias pt 2 you use she/her pronouns when it says gender neutral
AH tysm for the catch!! I tried writing this fic with a bunch of pronouns/POVs before settling on this and it's not being beta read so some things slip past. I'll fix it rn!
Underratedly hysterical part of Arcane is Silco’s face after Sevika doesn’t betray him because it’s just 100% “HOLY SHIT. HOLY SHIT I WAS BLUFFING I WAS NOT CONFIDENT AT ALL THAT SHE WASN’T GONNA KILL ME HOLY SHIT. HOLY SHIT I COULD HAVE DIED—”
dynasties & dystopias || silco x gn!reader || pt. 2
Underground utopia, dynasties and dystopias Fear is never an option, so dying's not a real phobia
Synopsis:
You are stunning, the most sought after escort in all of Zaun. When you stumble into Silco's inner circle, you barely expect to survive, much less be stuck in a sexual stalemate with the kingpin of the Lanes.
Masterlist
A/N: Thank you so much for the love on the first part! I am attempting a tag list for this, so if you'd like to be tagged, send me an ask
Trigger Warning: none for this chapter
You weren't sure what you expected the office of Zaun's current leader to look like, but it was professional, a desk with papers scattered about, a huge window and a chair that looked more like a throne. Silco stepped around his desk, and motioned for you to sit on the other side. He sat down in his chair, somehow even more intimidating than before.
"Excuse me, sir, but you've had no need for my services before, nor have you taken up any of the offers in the city. Why now?"
"My reasons are none of your concern. You will be paid handsomely, and given a small apartment beside my own. You aren't required to be seen with me, aside from when there are people present, or when I leave."
You nodded, turning the idea over in your head. He could probably pay double what you were currently making, giving you free time and a time to remember what it was like to have hobbies before you were worried about making a living 24/7.
"You are not to take jobs from anyone else during this period, but you are free to do as you please otherwise."
"What will be required of me during our appearances?"
"We will start with you lingering in my office, looking as though you belong and do not leave my side, and will escalate according to the situation."
I nodded, "Length of service, and exact pay?"
"The duration of your stay is negotiable according to how the situation continues. That being said, you will not be permitted to work in Zaun until our contract is fully terminated. If you go to another city, I have no concern what you do when you are not in my service."
He rattled off a wage, which was, as suspected, over double what you made on an average night.
You pretended to think the offer over, wondering what his reaction to your delay would be. He put his elbows on his desk, and leaned forward slightly, the only sign of his impatience.
"You have yourself a deal, Silco."
***
You were afforded a small apartment, but it was still more spacious than your accommodations at the brothel. Also, you had a private bathroom. You hadn't had one of those since leaving your family home in Noxus.
Silco's rules were simple: refer to him only as sir in front of any company, show up at least half an hour before anyone was expected in his office, dressed according to who he was hosting. He would give you a small brief of how you were expected to behave for the specific client, anything from lounging on the decadent couch to leaning casually against the desk. If what you had on was inappropriate, you were instructed to change.
You continued to wear your gift from the inventor as a safety precaution, but Silco also gave you a glittering silver chain with jewels that mimicked the color of shimmer. You tried not to give the terrifying drug much thought, or you may run for the hills.
Today was a bit different than other days, if your brief was anything to go by. You were instructed to wear something revealing, but tasteful, that looked expensive. You were also told days beforehand, and the letter (the briefs always came as letters) also instructed you to tell Silco immediately if you needed a new outfit. Whoever this meeting was for, it was important.
You looked at your closet, wondering about his idea of "revealing, but tasteful" for far too long. That ruled out most of your normal brothel attire, that was too flashy. In the end, you opted for a dark red and black outfit, tastefully tight against your body and showing just enough skin.
Making your way to Silco's office, you were a full hour early, instead of the agreed upon half hour. But you also wanted to make sure you clearly knew what was expected of you today, lest you make yourself look like a fool.
Jinx was making her way out of the office, walking with less energy than normal, sprinting off in the other direction.
That was a terrible sign.
You held up your fist to knock on the door, but before you could Silco opened it and beckoned you inside.
"Sit."
You did, adjusting your outfit accordingly, feeling self conscious for the first time in a long time under his intimidating gaze.
"It is good you came early. You realize this is higher stakes than normal, yes?"
You nodded, waiting for him to continue.
"Today we meet with the Chem Barons. You know them, correct?"
Another nod. Finn, a younger member with more blood on his hands than most of the city, tattoos and a gold lower jaw, had spent many nights in your room at the brothel.
"Good. You are to do exactly as I say. I trust you can read a room well enough to know what kind of act to put on. Don't forget who pays you."
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Despite your doubts about Silco as a person, you had no desire to upset the best deal you've had in years.
Silco nodded, standing as Sevika walked through the door along with two other large, heavily tattooed men that were to act as bodyguards.
You pretended to be perfectly at ease, now lounging in the chair with your full attention on Silco. He offered you a hand, and helped you out of the chair when you took it. You expected his contact to be brief, like it had been in all of your previous interactions. Instead, his hand fell on the small of your back, guiding you forward.
This was shaping up to be the most interesting meeting yet.
***
The Chem Barons were a loosely organized group at best, and despite Silco bringing them together, their disdain for him was obvious, especially from Finn. He was a long-term client, and often spoke of his plans for "getting you out of the life."
Silco took a seat at the head of the table, directly opposite Finn. Silco's sudden interest in you all clicked into place. Finn was trying to overthrow him at best, kill him at worst. You were a power play.
"I didn't realize we brought escorts to meetings now." A man with a heavily disfigured face sneered.
"I thought that we had an alliance to improve Zaun. My fiance is interested in a buy in, helping control the sex trade throughout the city."
Silco's hand pulled yours to his shoulder, giving your hand a kiss. Fiance? Buy in? Your skin prickled, but you knew you couldn't let your anger show. You simply gave his hand a firm, borderline painful, squeeze.
Instead of pain, something akin to amusement lit up the man's eyes as Finn jumped from his seat at the end of the table.
"Fiance? They're an escort -"
"Retired, now. But still knows their way around the business better than any of us, yes?"
Finn slammed his fist on the table. He knew Silco was right, at least about you knowing your way around the industry. You didn't know what Silco's play here was, though - you had a finite contract, and there was no way he was doing this to improve any of the sex workers' lives in the city.
He was going to ruin your reputation with this stunt. You could deal with that later. For now you needed to play your part, you could potentially murder him later.
"Then why did I just see them with a client two weeks ago? Before they mysteriously moved out of their rooms?"
The question came from a yordle, probably some estranged relative of Babette, your previous mistress.
"Silco and I simply wanted to wait and make sure there were no ulterior motives before going public with the engagement." Your smile was dazzling as you draped your hand farther over his chest, leaning in closer, hopefully with a look of love in your eyes. "I'm sure you all understand how rare that is, being the richest of Zaun."
You gave Finn a pointed look, "And men in my line of work aren't often interested in something serious."
Silco gave you a look that was somewhere between shock and a warning, and you smiled at him, straightening your posture once more. The interaction had done exactly what you had wanted, Finn's jaw ticked out of anger.
"Well, we have wanted control over the industry for quite some time. Too many potential secrets being spilled about our operations."
"I don't want to touch it. Better give it to one of their own."
"How much power would this afford them?"
The last question came with a pointed look at you. Silco waved his hand, "Not much, I'm afraid. But it would give us regulation, and would make traitors far less likely to rattle off tales in the throes of passion."
Everyone in the room, save Finn, seemed on board. Silco continued his argument, outlining "your" plans to keep a closer eye on where their people went, to who, and also to tighten up who was allowed into the brothels. All of these things were already done for most of the official places in the city, but no one else in the room would know that.
What was Silco's game here?
"Well, that's decided. Thank you all for your consideration." He said, with a smile on his face; it looked menacing, like he just got his way, but you didn't know what that way was.
And you were terrified, because you knew it involved you somehow. You felt, for the first time in a long time, like you had been very easily manipulated. And it made you angry beyond belief.
Dynasties & Dystopias || Silco x GN!Reader || Pt. 1
Underground utopia, dynasties and dystopias
Fear is never an option, so dying's not a real phobia
Synopsis:
You are stunning, the most sought after escort in all of Zaun. When you stumble into Silco's inner circle, you barely expect to survive, much less be stuck in a sexual stalemate with the kingpin of the Lanes.
A/N: This song and this man have such a chokehold on me that I had to start writing. This is slightly canon compliant, but I'm not going to be focused on going through all of the events of the series, as they don't often concern the MC.
Keeping the descriptions so gender neutral, I have left out a lot of details. If you want a better picture of what was in my head when I wrote something, just ask!
The MC is a sex worker, and they're also very proud of their profession. They will not be working to escape it in this fic.
There is eventual smut. How I'm going to handle that with a gender neutral reader is yet to be seen, but feel free to give me opinions on preference!
This is also my first long form fic, and is already one of the longest things I've written. Please be gentle! I will probably be reworking it in the future.
Trigger Warning: none for this chapter
In this gothic underground city, we all sin....
In every city you've ever been in, sex sells. Zaun is no different.
Sure, it's harder to understand what attracts clients outside of the brothel. You never like to linger in brothels after you get established in any given area - sex sells, but the real money comes from much higher up than a brothel's normal clientele, despite what the Babette said. Losing you completely would be losing a great asset, so you were allowed to more or less do what you pleased.
After all, almost all the high profile criminals wanted a taste of Piltover's most recent outcast.
Perhaps outcast wasn't the right word for your situation. Originally, you were from Noxus, being transplanted for your utter distaste for war. You were no stranger to violence, but war ruined everything it touched. You had wandered before finding your way to Piltover, establishing yourself. But it was time to move on from Piltover, and Zaun was the closest option.
Besides, you got paid no matter which city you lived in, but only down here were you treated like royalty by everyone you encountered.
Last night you had worked in the brothel, but tonight you had been requested for a far different affair. You were stunning by anyone's standards - add in the allure of your past, and being seen with you was counted as a status symbol. A shorter human, seemingly a mechanic or inventor of some kind, had paid you kindly to accompany him to The Last Drop. No one recognized him as anything but someone who sold junk. You were his plan to change that.
You decided to go with a more understated outfit; you really wanted the man to get his money's worth, but The Last Drop wasn't known for being the most civilized places at times. You were very attached to the clothing you had, the way it fit and the way it made you feel. You had also worked your ass off for it, putting up with sexual harassment, scams, dishonest brothel hostesses, the list went on. You wouldn't be sacrificing it to a barfight.
The man promptly showed up to your agreed meeting spot at 10 P. M. sharp. You wanted to come from a few blocks away, to give the impression that you had been together for more than the walk to the bar. You might be getting paid, but listening to this man talk about his passion for building things, you genuinely wanted to help him out. You remembered the thrill of tinkering with things.
"Ready?" You asked, giving him a sincere smile.
He nodded, pushing his glasses up his pronounced nose. "Thank you for your help tonight."
He offered me his arm and I took it, keeping my smile.
"Of course."
***
The trip to the bar was short, and you walked into the bar with your hand looped around his arm. The two of you garnered a few curious glances as you stepped through the door, and more as he led you to the bar.
"Would you like a drink?"
"Water would be lovely, thank you."
He nodded, asking Sevika for your water and a whiskey for himself. Sevika was easily the most terrifying woman you had laid eyes on, and while you could tell she held some disdain for you given your profession, she also respected your work ethic from afar.
You held polite small talk with the inventor (who you were ashamed to admit you didn't get the name of) while the bar became more crowded. He garnered several astonished looks, and a few of the higher up Zaunites even gave him a respectful nod, apparently something that had never happened before.
Thrilled that your night was going according to plan, he pulled you over towards a more secluded spot. You worried that although he was respectful up to this point, he was going to push outside of the agreed boundaries. You prepared yourself for a fight, just in case.
You were pleasantly surprised when he presented you with a necklace made of gears, with a hidden compartment.
"I really can't thank you enough, again, and I know that your work is dangerous."
He then pressed a button and a hidden blade popped out of the curious contraption. It was the most thoughtful someone had been in years.
"I, um, thank you so much." Although you weren't often one to be lost for words, it was rare for a client to put so much thought into a gift for you.
"Would you care to put it on for me?"
He smiled, nodding as you turned around and lifted your hair out of the way. He positioned the necklace, quickly doing the clasp.
Suddenly, though, there was a flash of blue and a thud to your right as someone jumped straight down from the second floor.
"Hiya! Why are you back here?"
A girl with two twin braids, pink eyes, and a maniacal look in them stared at you. The man in front of you looked terrified, and that's when it struck you.
This was Jinx.
The infamous daughter of Silco, crazier than he was, with a penchant for blowing things up.
You smiled at her, not sure if it was the right thing to do.
"My date for the night had a present for me, we wanted to -"
"A present! Can I see? Please let me see?" She drug out the please to an obnoxious number of syllables.
You presented the necklace, not taking it off your neck and she leaned in close to see.
"Ooooooh, it's pretty, too!"
"Jinx!"
A stern voice, followed by footsteps hurriedly coming down the stairs made her turn around, grinning at the most feared man in all of Zaun.
"Look! I made new friends! Or acquaintances, or whatever."
The power of Silco's gaze on you was overwhelming, but you had worked for men more powerful and more dangerous than him. You stood a little straighter, wanting to impress, and fixed him with your most dazzling smile and fuck-me eyes.
If you could solidify your place with Silco? You became the most untouchable escort in all of Zaun.
"Did you now?"
"Yep!" Jinx popped the 'p' and turned quickly. "Going to go make more bombs now. Bye!"
You glanced behind you, realizing the inventor had slunk off into the bar. While he wanted to paint himself as a respectable member of this criminal underground, you couldn't blame him for avoiding the cruel, twisted ruler of it.
"I don't think we've-"
You tried to introduce yourself, but Silco quickly cut you off.
"Oh, I've heard of you."
Silco stepped towards you. The man looked terrifying and handsome all at once, and it was only as he got closer that you could fully take him in. Dark hair, sharp features, one eye blue, cold and calculating; the other one felt like staring into the void, the yellow pupil offering little comfort.
"The beloved of both Piltover and Zaun. A respectable work ethic, rare from the people of the upper city, but you're not from there, are you?"
He circled you closely, his eyes raking your figure, but not in the way you were used to. While most gazes were heated with lust, his was borderline detached. It would've insulted you, except you were caught off guard by his next words.
"I want you to work exclusively for me."
There was no way you heard that right. You stared at him as he came to stand in front of you again, gesturing towards the stairs.
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