Something Wretched, Something Beautiful (and everything in between) - Chapter One
Familiar Faces | ao3
Chapter tags: Silco/Reader, Silco, Alternate universe Silco, Reader-insert, reader works for Silco in original universe, Vander, Jinx, Powder, Mylo, Claggor, slowburn, friends to lover, but also don’t really like each other to lovers, depends on the universe, eventual romance, alternate universe (s02e07), reader is transported to the alternate universe and is really confused, flashbacks, dubious hexcore usage, writer has a poor grasp on the science and magic system, just go along with it, no use of y/n, implied older man/younger reader, gender-neutral pronouns Cw: canon-typical violence, eventual smut (maybe??) bugs (kind of, reader uses the descriptor of something feeling like maggots in their skin)
Rating: Mature, possibly explicit in the future, 18+ minors dni
Chapter word count: 5.6k
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You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up here. One minute you were walking into Jinx’s workshop while she was working on a weapon with the Hex crystal she procured, and then next, you were here. You’re not quite sure what went wrong, maybe you scared her and she connected a wrong wire or she dropped something, but whatever happened caused a loud, blinding flash and you landed here. Wherever here was. You thought at first, you had passed out from the explosion. Your head tucked into your arms that rested on a cool, sturdy surface.
“You know,” a gruff voice spoke your name. “If I was really boring you that much you could’ve just told me.” You felt the vibration of a deep, hearty chuckle.
You slowly and cautiously lifted your head. It took a moment for your eyes to focus in on the large figure in front of you, your brain throbbing in your skull, but then as if a cold bucket of ice water was dumped upon you, your spine straightened and your eyes widened. A shock ran through you, leaving your mouth to go dry.
“Vander?” you managed out a quiet rasp that almost came out entirely cracked.
You watched the man in front of you chuckle once again as he finished cleaning a glass before whipping a towel over his shoulder. “The one and only.”
‘Alright,’ you thought as you looked at the man, completely dumbfounded ‘this is the most real feeling dream I’ve ever had.’ Promptly, you brought a hand up to painfully connect it to your cheek in a loud smack.
This earned another chuckle from Vander, though it was paired with a concerned look this time. “Doing alright there?”
You moved your head around slowly to take in your surroundings. Illuminated by the warm lighting you found yourself sitting on a stool at a bar. Around you was cheerful hustle and bustle. In one corner, there was a group of friends drinking merrily as they all participated in a card game, in another, there’s a couple on what looks to be a date. Your bleary eyes then roamed to the next table and you felt a shudder like no other crawl up your spine. Jinx and three other boys sat at a table, happily conversing with each other. You couldn’t place the feeling that crept through you like maggots in your skin when you realized that the two boys strongly resembled the handmade dolls Jinx had kept in her workshop. The ones she had never explained to you who they were but left you assuming the worst.
The Jinx you observed in front of you was vastly different from the one you knew, yet still very clearly her. She looked younger, softer. Her two long, wild braids were traded for choppy short hair that was put into two buns on the top of her head. Her face wasn’t long and hallowed, cheeks filled out, proof of eating fulfilling meals. Yet, the most striking difference you noticed was her eyes. Her eyes were still a dusty blue, but what caught you off guard was the joy you saw behind them, the contentment. It was a look you had only truly seen a handful of times from her but even then, it was never this pure. ‘That isn’t Jinx’ you thought, at least not the one you knew. You overheard one of the boys call her ‘Powder’. You furrowed your eyebrows as you thought back to the few times you’d witnessed Jinx talk to herself. There were 4 names you often heard: ‘Violet’, ‘Mylo’, ‘Claggor’ and ‘Powder’. That must’ve been who she was before Jinx. The revelation hit you like a brick to the face, your mind scrambling for any explanation as the original thought that this was just a dream started to become more distant because this just felt too real.
Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, you heard yet another voice, it was deep and silken, one you would recognize anywhere as it called your name in an attempt to pull you out of whatever trance you were in. “What’s going on with her?” the voice spoke again.
Your blood turned to ice, fighting to push through your very veins as you slowly turned your head back to look at the person who had joined Vander behind the bar. You couldn’t hide the look of horror etched onto your face.
Silco.
He called your name out once again, waving a hand in front of your face causing you to squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head, shedding off your trance-like state. “Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything?” His tone was concerned, caring. His eyebrows were furrowed as he examined your face with worry.
Your eyes darted all over his face, taking in every detail. The differences weren’t as overt as Jinx’s but they were there. The scar was still there, creased into his face but his eye wasn’t widened and red. Unpoked and un-prodded by Shimmer-filled syringes. Instead, there was a hazy grey that covered over his iris like a thin veil. His usual slicked-back hair was traded for a more casual, loose look that let it fall naturally.
“Yeah,” you took in a deep breath before stumbling out of your seat, using the bar to support your arms as you stood up. “I just-“ your eyes moved from Silco to Vander, then to Jinx, and finally landed on the door “I just need to get some air.” You stagger over to the door, your head dizzying from the bizarre environment. As your hand pressed the cool surface of the door to push it open, you hoped to find some odd solace and normality in the smoky, neon light filled undercity.
Solace and normality were not what you felt as you took in the outside surroundings. Instead of neon lights, the night was illuminated by soft, colorful lanterns. Instead of the smoky air, there was the smell of freshly made food coming from multiple vendor stands. It was beautiful, but it was not what you knew, not even close. For a minute, you just stood there, taking in the beauty of this unfamiliar Zaun. The sun had set, yet children were running around, innocently playing. People strolled about in Piltover-like garb. The sounds of children’s laughter and adults joyously chatting filled your ears. You stumbled over to the nearest bench to plop yourself onto before you toppled over from the sheer shock and confusion. As a gentle breeze washed over you, you heard the faint rustling of some papers. You turned your attention to the space next to you, occupied by a newspaper. You reached out to grab it, your eyes immediately landing on the date. It was 2 years in the future. Your eyes frantically looked up to survey the area around you once again. No, no, it was just too different. There’s no way you were only transported to the future, this had to be an alternate timeline as well.
You were so focused on the city in front of you that you didn’t notice a figure coming to sit next to you. You’re snapped out of it when you hear the sound of ice clinking as a cup is held out in front of you. Your eyes land on the drink and trail the arm handing it out to you up to meet the face of Silco.
He let out a small chuckle “It’s only water. I figured you’re not much in the drinking mood.”
Your eyes moved back to the cup being held in front of you as you slowly reached for it, your fingertips lightly brushing his as you took the water. You brought the cool, refreshing liquid to your lips before speaking again. “Do you ever feel like you woke up in the wrong universe?” You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t meet them as you continued to look over the city around you.
It’s silent for a moment as his eyes finally leave the profile of your face to look in the same direction as you. “All the time.” he spoke deeply, quietly. “Every time I wake up I wonder how I was so blessed to be in a universe where everything worked out.” he let out a breath. “I think of all the ways this all could’ve turned out and I can’t help but shudder at the thought of what could’ve been, what I could’ve been.”
You responded only with a nod. The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine. He said he shuddered at the thought of what could’ve been, without knowing you’ve shuddered at the thought of what has been, what he has been.
You were there at the fall of Vander. Well, you weren’t actually there where it happened, but you witnessed the aftermath all around you. You weren’t close with him, sure you knew him, everyone in the lanes did, but he was more of an acquaintance. You visited The Last Drop a few times, had some fun nights, exchanged a few drunken words, but that was the extent of your relationship with him. Compared to now, you were such a kid back then. Sure, you were technically an adult but you were still so green, so hopeful for the future. Everything fell apart when he died. It wasn’t until Silco had risen from the shadows when everything was pieced back together again. Sort of. He took control of the lanes. Took control of The Last Drop. Maintained some kind of order amidst the chaos. Downtrodden, dying Zaunites clawed their way for just a drop of Shimmer. It was disgusting. What he did was disgusting. Sure, he was fighting for the independence of Zaun, but in doing so he had used and discarded the very people he was fighting for.
That’s why you didn’t necessarily want to work for him. You didn’t respect him. But you did, however, respect the cause. The end goal. And as far as you were concerned, no one was as close to achieving it as he was.
You never approached him at first, though, and neither was it vice versa. It was Jinx who discovered you.
You see, living in Zaun wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. You had to fight and occasionally… okay very regularly steal. You didn’t enjoy it per se, but you were very good at it and it was very satisfying at times, especially when you had nicked something off from some good-for-nothing bozo. You never took from anyone in a less fortunate position than you, it just wasn’t in your morals. But pricks, specifically drunken ones that hung around The Last Drop, that was more your style.
One night, during a particularly bountiful harvest, as you slunk around the club pickpocketing from every poor soul around you as you blended in with the dancing and flashing neon lights, little did you know that a certain blue-haired teenager was watching you with excited curiosity from the bar. It happened all at once, this little blur of blue forced herself into your life and convinced you to work for The Eye of Zaun himself. Of course, he didn’t agree to it immediately.
“Look at them!” Jinx presented you in front of Silco, gesturing her arms out over you. “They probably stole everything those poor suckers down there are worth without them even noticing!”
You remember as you stood there in his office for the first time as he sat at his desk, his cold eyes, one a pale blue and the other a dark red surrounded by a void of black, looked over you with scrutiny. It seemed his face had a permanent grimace etched into it. He wasn’t a very physically imposing man, he didn’t appear to have the musculature of the usual Zaunite man, though it was hard to tell because of the elegant, collared coat he wore that appeared as if it were to swallow him whole. He dressed almost as if he were from Piltover but his face clearly indicated he was a Zaunite, through and through. It wasn’t just the scar that made it apparent. It was the crookedness of his front teeth, the weary lines creased upon his face, and the sharpness of his features. No, he was a child born from Zaun and no amount of fancy clothing or slicked-back hair could hide it.
“So,” his silken, indifferent voice began as his eyes continued to relentlessly scan over you. “You stole from my patrons? Most of whom work for me?”
“Well,” you drew out guiltily as you felt the pace of your heartbeat pick up. Unable to think of an excuse you press your lips into a thin line before opening them with a small click of your tongue. “Yes, pretty much.”
His face remained indifferent. He could’ve killed you right then and there, and most likely, was going to. But, maybe, you thought, he was refreshed with your blatant honesty.
After much convincing from Jinx he eventually relented into what you could’ve only described as an interview. You sat there in his dimly lit office, the only light in the room emanating off the small warm-toned lamp on his desk, and the neon lights of the night from outside the large circular window behind him. He had dismissed Jinx so it was just the two of you. You sat in a plain, hard wooden chair, your head having to tilt slightly up to meet his face as he sat cross-legged in his plush, maroon, button-tufted one. He sat high, his eyes narrowing down to look at you. Like a king on his throne looking down at a subject. You try not to be obvious about the indignant scrunch of your nose.
It felt like eons of silent scrutiny, his eyes hovering over you before he finally spoke, swirling a short glass of whisky in his hand. “Family?”
“Dead” you answered, your face and tone dispassionate. It wasn’t the most uncommon answer for a Zaunite, in fact, it was probably more common to have your whole family dead than alive. You were just lucky you were old enough to take care of yourself by the time your parents died. You didn’t have any siblings to worry about. It was just you. Of course, you were sorrowful over the loss of your parent, they will forever be a scar scorched upon your weary heart. But Zaunites didn’t have time to grieve. It had been years since you lost them during the failed uprising. You didn’t allow yourself to get choked up about it anymore. Only allowing it to pass through your thoughts during late hours when you couldn’t sleep.
“Lover?”
The blunt questioning caught you off guard for a split second before you let out a breathy, sardonic chuckle, amused at the idea “No,” you answer “It’s just me if that’s where this line of questioning is going.” You looked down in thought “I imagine whatever I am will die with me.” The words came out more candidly than you intended, more despondent than humorous.
He regarded you coldly, his eyes slowly scanning over your face. He remained emotionless but you could see the cogs in his head turning, looking over you as if you were a puzzle to solve “No” he spoke, his voice low and honeyed “I believe, in joining me, you would die with having much more purpose” His eyes met yours in a cool gaze, the eyebrow on his good side raising a little while the other, drawn on one, stayed frozen “Or, if you’re lucky, perhaps live with that purpose”
You let out a short chuckle through your nose “Well, at least you’re honest about my prospects,” Feeling a little bold, you raised a subtle, inquisitive brow “And what about you? Do you plan to live or die for the cause?”
You swear you saw the smallest, amused smirk on his face before he took a sip of his whiskey, placing the glass down on the wooden desk with a soft thud. “I do not have plans on sacrificing myself anytime soon if that is what you’re asking. I plan to see the great Nation of Zaun come to fruition,” his finger played around the rim of his glass “I would however, still die for the cause if need be.” he trained his eyes back on you “Would you?”
There was a palpable tension in the air as you sat with the question, but it didn’t take you long to produce your answer “No.” Sure you could’ve lied, cried out with bleeding heart passion ‘Yes, of course, I would give my life for Zaun!’ But what would the point be? Whether he hired you or not was relatively inconsequential to you. “I would do a lot to help make Zaun a better place for people, but I am no saint and I don’t want to be mistaken for one. If you’re looking for a martyr, that’s not me”
He offered you no emotion as he considered your response. It was frustrating. The only expressions he’s shown you being a quirk of his brow or a tilt of the corner of his lips. If you had half a mind you would grasp the man by his shoulders and shake him until he made a different expression. “No,” he finally spoke “I wouldn’t say ‘martyr’ is exactly what I’m looking for.” he took in a breath through his nose, leaning back into his chair “You can start tomorrow. Your honesty has a… refreshing quality to it” he admitted “Do try not to get too comfortable, though. Honesty is a fickle thing. In this line of work, it can often get you killed.” His cold voice came out as a warning. You knew this wasn’t just advice in regards to interacting with other people in this work but for him. He was telling you he would value honesty but only to an extent, and you’d be wise to heed his warning.
You felt a shiver run down your spine before giving a firm nod of understanding.
“Good,” he spoke lowly before looking down at the paperwork on his desk, picking up his pencil, indicating that the discussion was over. “You may leave.”
It wasn’t long before you had learned what his relationship with Jinx was. He trusted her and she was something of a daughter to him. She didn’t talk about it much to you, the whole story seemingly too traumatic to retell, clearly not having fully processed whatever had happened. But, what you were able to piece together from vague, sometimes crazed comments and context clues, you understood that she was abandoned by her sister at a young age and Silco took her in. You knew it wasn’t the full story, maybe not even the true one, but you didn’t have a death wish so you weren’t going to ask either one of them.
Despite Silco’s reluctance to hire you at first, you proved yourself to be useful. Part of it was out of spite towards him. You wanted to prove his lack of faith in you wrong. Some may have viewed your hard work as seeking his approval, but no, you and he both understood the true purpose behind your industriousness and grit. He saw it in your eyes every time you would go up to report a completed task to him, your eyes didn’t search his face like a puppy waiting to be called a ‘good boy’ like most of his other workers. You stood there reserved and indifferent, your eyes never moving from the same spot on his face. Of course, he would never say it, but you could tell he formed some sort of begrudging respect for you, or at least for the way you carried yourself.
Now, there you sat on a bench in what you can only assume was an alternate universe, side by side with your boss or apparently in this universe, your friend.
You took another sip of your water as you gave him an acknowledging hum. You brought the cup down holding it with both hands to rest it atop your thighs. You didn’t dare to look at him, to meet the hauntingly familiar face of this Silco. You’re not sure what you’d find there. You’re not sure what you’d feel. Your body felt tense, your muscles so stiff you feared if you moved they might creak.
You chose to train your eyes on the drink in your lap even as you felt him turning his head to look at you. “Remind me,” you start as the question creeps into your head, making its way to your tongue “How long have we been friends again?”
He let out a small, breathy chuckle as he turned his head back out to look at Zaun “Almost 6 months,” he answered with no hesitation. Your eyes dared to flicker up to look at his side profile and you noticed the small, content smile on his face. “Almost 6 months since Powder brought you in, insisting Vander hire you”
It was your turn to smile now, you couldn’t help it as it crept onto your face. Of course, even in this universe, it was her who got you a job. Your mind wandered as you thought about your life here. How did you meet Powder in this universe? Did she find you like she did in your universe? What were you doing before? And most importantly, were you a bartender now?
You let out a soft chuckle “She’s a force to be reckoned with.” Which earned a small laugh from him as well. Your ears perked up. You’d never heard him laugh or chuckle, or make any joyous noise before. It was breathy, deep, and reserved. You found yourself enjoying the unfamiliar sound.
After a beat of silence, he let out a sigh and put a hand on top of your thigh. You suppressed the surprised breath that wanted to leave your lips. You expected the touch to make your blood run cold but instead, you were greeted with a strange warmth. His touch was hesitant and gentle. He didn’t squeeze or let the weight of his hand press down on you. He was trying to comfort you. “Truly though, are you well?” He turned his head once more and this time instead of seeing your head turned down to look at your glass, he met you face to face. His eyes searched yours. “I don’t recall ever seeing you so.. distant”
For a few seconds, you could only look into his eyes as well.
You recalled the handful of times you had looked into his eyes. It was a rare occurrence. Sure, he had no problem looking at you, either scrutinizing you with his gaze or showing a silent, almost pleased regard to a job well done. Though, every time you strained your eyes up to look back at him he would only allow the contact for a fleeting moment before directing his eyes elsewhere and dismissing you. The last time he had ever looked you in the eyes was the last time you saw him before being transported to this strange, blissful universe. His eyes had been full of rage, a streak of purple dribbling out of his scarred eye exhibiting that he had just gotten his shot. You had just gotten back from a particularly dangerous assignment, one that did not go according to plan in the slightest.
You were tasked with sneaking into a rival chem barons warehouse and extracting some valuable equipment. In a move that was entirely unlike you, you had accidentally kicked a glass vial as you crept, immediately alerting warehouse guards of your presence. It was a nasty scuffle, as you booked it for the nearest exit, bullets whizzing past you, one grazing your shoulder. You let out a yelp of pain as a large warehouse guard pinned you against the wall, your torn shoulder hitting the cold metal behind you. You wriggled under his grasp, one hand pressing your shoulder back and the other reaching up to grasp your neck. Your fingertips wiggled as they grazed against the knife in your holster. Your hands finally tightened around the blade and you brought it up to stab the man in the neck. He collapsed before you, your vision was blurry as you looked down at your bloodied hands. Before you were able to process anything, you heard the sound of gunshots once again. Clumsily you found your footing and started running again. You’re not sure how you escaped, your vision hazy and your ears ringing, but you found yourself leaning on a wall in an alleyway, clutching your shoulder as you took in a ragged breath.
By the time you had gotten back, he had already heard what had happened. His worker had started a scene at a warehouse, and now his name was plastered all over the event.
The moment you walked in he had flung out of his seat, loudly hissing “How could you be so brainless?”
You had stood there as still as a soldier, your back straightened and you kept your eyes trained in front of you, not moving, not following his figure as he walked around his desk. “I made a mistake.” You felt the blood from your wound trickle down your arm, pooling at your fingertips, mixing with the blood of the man you killed, and dripping on the floor. “It won’t happen again.”
He let out a singular breathy, irate laugh “You’re certainly right it won’t happen again.” He crept toward you, as a predator would to its prey “I should have you killed for this.”
Your neck tensed at the words, the tendons slightly stretching out, still, you stood there stoically, your eyes refusing to look at him. “Are you not?” You inquired through a breath. “Or am I to be fired? Banished from the lanes perhaps?” Against your better judgment, the words came out as a slight scoff.
You failed to keep in a small gasp as he reached his hand up to you, his fingertips lightly pressing into the sides of your cheeks as he guided your head up to look at him. His gaze was wild and intense. You couldn’t decipher what it was if it was intense anger, judgment, or maybe even concern. You didn’t know and you didn’t want to know. You imagine you probably looked like a scared, wide-eyed creature, caught under blinding lights.
“Banish you from the lanes?” He let out a low, sardonic chuckle as his face inched ever so closer, stopping just before your noses could touch. You swear, that for a split second his eyes flickered down to your lips before his low, velvety voice spoke. “No, I don’t imagine there is any dark corner of Zaun you could flee to that would relieve me of the knowledge of your existence” He released your face to slowly trail his hand down to your shoulder, letting his thumb graze over the wound. It wasn’t a hard touch, but it was enough to make you wince and hiss slightly in pain. “This should be lesson enough”
There you were now, sitting on a bench looking into those very same eyes, but this time they were attached to someone who was almost completely different. Your mouth slightly parted as you analyzed the Silco in front of you. There was such tenderness and care in the eyes you had grown to know as cold and callous. You let out a breath and softly shook your head as you collected your thoughts. “I think I just need to get some sleep.” You paused as you looked up to the sky “It’s been a.. weird day for me.”
“Right,” his hand abruptly left your thigh, as if he just then realized what he had been doing. “Of course.” He stood up and gave you a faint, sweet smile, offering his hand to help you up.
You didn’t fail to notice the light blush dusting over his cheeks. You found it embarrassing how you internally reveled at the sight. When working for him, the thought had passed by you sometimes, that he was a beautiful, wretched thing. The thought was always fleeting but left destruction in its wake. When reporting back to him, you would sometimes find your eyes trailing the lines of his scars, your fingers tingling at the thought of what it would be like to feel them, rough and rigid in all of their wicked glory. You wondered how he would respond to the touch. Would he flinch? Would his eyes flutter shut as he leaned into your touch? Would he too revel in your soft flesh meeting his timeworn face? You knew the story of how the river toxins ate through his face and corroded his nerves. You wondered if he couldn’t feel anything there at all now, or if perhaps instead, he was extra sensitive there, the nerves not completely wasted away, just there under a thin layer of skin waiting to be touched. You always had to shake the thought from your head. Snuff it out before the flame grew. You knew it would only leave you as nothing but a charred pile of bones in the end. He was not a man to be loved. He was not a man that wanted it. You were so sure of it. But as you looked up at the man in front of you, offering his hand in support as a light pink painted over his pale cheeks, you wondered if you were perhaps wrong. You knew you were staring at that point. Taking in the details of his face. He was entirely different yet somehow, wholly the same. The Silco before you seemed to be entirely made for love and you were afraid you were starting to believe that the Silco you knew had a part of him that was made for it too.
You see him start to shrink under your prolonged gaze, his hand faltering. But before you let him drop it to his side you offered him a soft smile before placing your hand on top of his palm. You wondered if he too felt the subtle spark emanating off of the touch. You wondered how often he touched you like this in this universe. Was it a common occurrence? Simple, genial touches exchanged between two friends? Were they ever perhaps something more? You were only left to wonder as he helped you to your feet, his hand releasing yours as soon as you found your footing.
He pulled open the doors of the bar, holding them open and allowing you to go in before following. The kind gesture almost seemed to be second nature for him. He looked a little confused when you sputtered out a “Thanks,” as you walked past him as if he didn’t know why he was being thanked.
“Ah, there she is.” You hear Vander’s hearty voice exclaim as he propped his elbows on the counter. “How are you feelin’, lass?”
You gave a weak smile as you approached. Your eyes darting to Powder who was now at the bar as well, two elbows leaning on to it to prop herself up as she stood cool and casually. “I’m uh… I’m doing alright.” you sputter out “I think I just need to go home, get some rest.” you then immediately realized that you were not quite sure where ‘home’ here was. Was it the same place as your original universe or somewhere entirely different? “Home…” you muttered the word to yourself “Speaking of, can somebody walk me home? I just don’t think I’m in any state to get there by myself.” you let out a weak and breathy chuckle, hoping that excuse was believable enough.
You noticed a small, mischievous smirk play on Powder's lips as she looked between you and Silco, her face quickly dropping to appear casual as she pushed herself off the bar “Well, I have to meet up with Ekko to discuss what we’re doing for the innovator's competition” she then leaned slightly over the bar to put a hand on Vander’s shoulder “And Dad here has to close up the bar, so that leaves…” her eyes trailed to the man standing next to you as she donned a cheerful face “Uncle Silco! Be a gentleman and walk the girl home, would ya?”
All eyes fell onto him. His own eyes propped open a bit in a silent surprise before he cleared his throat and answered “Oh uh yes, of course.”
“You gonna be good to come in tomorrow?” Vander chimed in with the question.
You nodded, your eyebrows and the corners of your mouth downturned in a determined expression “Yes,” the answer came out weakly so you cleared your throat before speaking again “Yes, I’ll be fine. What time am I coming in?” your eyebrow raised slightly as you asked.
Vander let out a deep chuckle as he ran a rag over the surface of the bar “Jeez, you must be really out of it. 4 o’clock as always”
You awkwardly chuckled “Ah right, of course,” you spoke as if you were suddenly remembering, tapping the side of your head to indicate being a ditz “Silly me.” They all looked at you silently, one of Powder’s eyebrows raised in amusement and confusion. You just blinked and cleared your throat again before turning around “Right then, let’s go.”
Silco walked slightly ahead of you, pushing the door open for you yet again. As you walked out of the bar you heard the faint voice of Vander as he talked to Powder, the low rumble of a chuckle coming out of him “You’re gonna give that poor man a heart attack one day.”
a/n: Hiiiiii, this is my first time really writing a fanfiction and posting it anywhere. I originally intended this to be a one-shot but 6000 words in and I'm not even close to being done. Thanks to everyone who gave me advice on if I should just post it as a multi-chapter fic! I'm not sure how long I'm planning for this to be so just bear with me. Anyways, any feedback is appreciated! Is the shift between flashback and present clear? Lmk! Also, let me know if there are any warnings or tags that I missed! I'm also not familiar with how to format fanfics on here but i tried my best, anyways, kiss mwuah
