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Ember in the Dark pt.9

Young!Silco x Fem!Reader

pt.8 - pt.10

pt.1

Warnings: Power Imbalance/Oppression, Police Brutality, Mild Violence, Substance use, Pregnancy/Childbirth, Postpartum Exhaustion

Word Count: 7609

Summary: More tensions rise with Piltover as Felicia nears the end of her pregnancy. The group all rally around her, especially when she goes into labor and gives birth to a daughter, Violet. (Y/N) unexpectedly steps into a caretaker role, bonding deeply with Violet and becoming a steady, calming force- especially for Silco, whose growing frustration with the Enforcers is barely contained. As she softens in ways she didn’t expect, Silco begins to see her a bit differently, their relationship deepening through quiet gestures and unspoken trust. With Violet’s arrival, the group finds brief comfort and unity, even as the world outside remains uncertain. Amid it all, (Y/N) and Silco draw closer, finding something worth protecting in each other- and in the fragile new life they’ve all welcomed into Zaun.

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The bar had settled into its late-night lull, the hum of conversation reduced to low murmurs and the occasional clink of glass. The air was warm, thick with the scent of cheap whiskey and the faint burn of tobacco.

Felicia sat at the counter, one hand lazily drumming against her stomach. She was showing more now, the curve of her belly undeniable beneath her loose-fitting shirt. Vander stood behind the bar, wiping down the counter with slow, methodical movements, while Silco leaned against the back wall, arms crossed, his ever-watchful gaze fixed on nothing in particular.

(Y/N) slid into the stool next to Felicia, nudging her with her elbow. “Getting real now, huh?”

Felicia huffed, giving a mock glare. “You mean the constant backaches, the swollen feet, or the fact that I can’t even tie my own damn boots anymore?” She sighed, rubbing her temple. “Yeah. It’s real.”

Vander chuckled, setting a glass of water in front of her. “You’re handling it better than most.”

“Handling it,” Felicia repeated dryly. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

Silco smirked, his fingers tapping idly against his arm. “You say that like it you didnt cause it.”

Felicia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Keep being an ass, Silco. We’ll see how smug you are when I make you babysit.”

Silco’s smirk faltered just slightly, and (Y/N) laughed, leaning against the counter. “Oh, that’s happening. No getting out of it.”

Before Silco could formulate a response, the front door swung open, and a few stragglers stumbled out into the street, leaving the place mostly empty aside from their little group. It was quieter than usual- most folks had cleared out early, wary of the increased Enforcer patrols lately.

Vander took a deep breath, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “You all hear what happened in the Lanes today?”

(Y/N) straightened slightly. “What now?”

Vander leaned on the counter, voice dropping just a bit. “Couple of kids got cornered by Enforcers. Supposedly, they were just lifting some food, but instead of scaring them off, the bastards roughed ‘em up. Left one barely able to walk.”

Felicia frowned, shaking her head. “Damn…”

Silco’s jaw tightened, his fingers stilling. “And what did Topside have to say about it?”

Vander sighed. “Same as always. They don’t care. They never have.”

(Y/N) felt the shift in the air, the familiar tension settling over Silco’s shoulders. His frustration had been simmering beneath the surface for months now, each new injustice adding to the weight of it.

Felicia noticed it too. She nudged him lightly with her foot. “Don’t go starting shit, Silco.”

His eyes flicked to her, sharp, but he said nothing.

Vander, watching him closely, exhaled. “Look, I know it ain’t fair. But picking a fight right now? It ain’t the move. We can’t afford trouble.”

Silco scoffed under his breath, but (Y/N) reached out, her fingers brushing against his wrist. It was a small touch, grounding, but enough to make him glance her way. She didn’t say anything, just held his gaze, and after a moment, he exhaled through his nose, tension easing- if only slightly.

Felicia stretched, pushing herself up from her seat. “Well, I don’t know about you all, but I’m heading out before the kid decides to start kicking my ribs in again.”

Vander smirked. “Need help getting to Connol’s?”

Felicia shot him a look. “I’m pregnant, not helpless.”

(Y/N) laughed, and Vander held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright.”

Felicia shook her head fondly before heading out, disappearing into the night.

Silco let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “One of these days, Vander, your patience with Piltover is going to cost us.”

Vander’s gaze hardened. “And rushing into a fight we can’t win will cost us more.”

The two stared at each other for a long moment, the weight of unspoken arguments lingering between them.

(Y/N), sensing the brewing storm, slid off her stool, looping an arm around Silco’s. “Come on, let’s get some air.”

He hesitated, but eventually let her pull him toward the door, stepping out into the quiet streets of the Undercity- of Zaun. The name still wasn’t fully embraced, but it was catching on. It was something.

(Y/N) leaned against him slightly. “One step at a time, yeah?”

Silco exhaled, his arm tightening around her just slightly. “Yeah,” he murmured. “One step at a time.”

The Lanes were quieter at this hour. The usual chaos had simmered down to a dull murmur, the occasional burst of laughter or clatter of metal breaking the silence. The smell of damp stone, oil, and something vaguely metallic lingered in the air.

(Y/N) walked beside Silco, her fingers slowly sliding down his wrist before settling into his palm. He didn’t pull away. Instead, his grip tightened slightly, grounding himself in the quiet presence of her beside him.

They weren’t heading anywhere in particular, just moving through the Lanes, letting the weight of the conversation in the bar settle.

Silco let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders. “You ever wonder what it would be like… if Piltover actually gave a damn?”

(Y/N) glanced at him. “Sometimes. But I don’t waste too much time on it.”

Silco scoffed. “Why not?”

She shrugged. “Because it won’t change anything. And thinking about what-ifs just makes it worse.”

He hummed, considering her words. His thumb brushed absentmindedly over her knuckles, though his gaze was distant, fixed on the uneven cobblestone ahead of them. “It’s exhausting. Watching them act like they’re better than us. Letting us scrape by while they thrive off our work. You heard what happened today, and it won’t stop. It never stops.”

(Y/N) squeezed his hand. “I know.”

They walked a bit further in silence, the faint glow of distant street lanterns casting long shadows against the alley walls.

Finally, she spoke again. “You’re not wrong. About any of it.”

Silco glanced at her, waiting.

She met his gaze, eyes steady. “But we both know what happens if you push too soon. We-... I can’t afford to lose you, Silco.”

Something in his expression softened, just barely. He exhaled slowly, dragging his free hand through his hair. “You make it sound like I’m reckless.”

(Y/N) smirked. “Because you are... We all are.”

Silco gave a quiet huff of laughter, shaking his head. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here we are.”

A comfortable silence stretched between them as they continued walking. The Lanes weren’t empty, but the people who still lingered in the streets paid them little mind. A few familiar faces nodded in passing, a silent acknowledgment, before disappearing into the alley’s.

Eventually, they found themselves at one of the higher walkways overlooking the Undercity. From here, they could see the sprawling tangle of buildings, the dim glow of neon signs flickering in the distance. Smoke curled up from the factories, mixing with the ever-present green shimmer of lights.

Silco leaned against the railing, eyes scanning the city below.

“This place deserves better,” he murmured.

(Y/N) rested her arms beside his, close enough for their shoulders to brush. “Then we make it better.”

Silco turned his head toward her, searching her face for something. Eventually, his hand found hers again, intertwining their fingers.

The quiet of the night was interrupted by the rhythmic clatter of heavy boots against the cobblestone.

Silco tensed immediately, fingers twitching against the railing as his sharp gaze flicked toward the source of the sound.

(Y/N) squeezed his hand gently, a silent warning. She pulled a cigarette from her pocket, lighting it with practiced ease before taking a slow drag. The ember flared, casting a brief glow across her face as she exhaled.

“Enforcers,” she muttered under her breath, voice low. “Keep your head down, don’t give them a reason to stop.”

Silco exhaled sharply through his nose, but he gave a subtle nod.

They remained still as the group of Enforcers approached- three of them, two women and a tall man leading the way. Their uniforms were pristine, stark against the grime of the Undercity.

Despite their silence, the Enforcers stopped in front of them anyway.

The man at the front eyed them both, head tilting slightly. “Out late, aren’t we?”

Silco didn’t even try to mask his disdain. “So standing outside is forbidden now too?”

(Y/N) discreetly nudged his side, a subtle reminder not to push too far.

She took another slow drag, exhaling the smoke before responding, “Just out for a smoke.”

The Enforcers didn’t look convinced. One of the women shifted, arms crossing over her chest as she eyed them both.

“Funny,” she said. “Most people down here scatter when they see us coming.”

Silco smirked, voice laced with dry amusement. “And yet, here we are.”

(Y/N) shot him a warning glance.

The tall man studied them a moment longer before stepping closer, looking Silco up and down like he was sizing him up. “Got names?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, flicking ash from her cigarette. “Didn’t know names were required to stand in our own city.”

The man scoffed. “Your city?” He glanced at the other two, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “That’s rich.”

Silco’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing. (Y/N) could feel the tension radiating off him, the way his fingers curled slightly against the railing.

The second woman finally spoke up. “We’ll be patrolling this area all night. I suggest you both move along before we find a reason to keep you here.”

(Y/N) nodded, grabbing Silco’s wrist. “Yeah, yeah. We’re going.”

She pulled him away before he could say something that’d make things worse.

The Enforcers watched them for a few more moments before turning and continuing their route, their boots echoing against the stone as they disappeared into the darkness.

Once they were out of earshot, Silco exhaled sharply. “They think they own this place.”

(Y/N) took another drag of her cigarette, her fingers still wrapped around his wrist. “I know.”

Silco glanced down at where she held onto him, his anger still simmering, but beneath it was something else- something quieter.

“…I hate them.” His voice was calm, almost eerily so.

(Y/N) didn’t argue. She just laced her fingers through his again. “I know.”

(Y/N) kept her grip on Silco’s hand as they made their way back toward the bar, her thumb absently brushing against his skin in an attempt to keep him grounded.

“Just let it go for tonight,” she murmured, watching the way his jaw stayed tight, his eyes burning with frustration.

Silco scoffed, shaking his head. “Let it go? You saw them, (Y/N). They stop us for nothing. Just because they can- because no one down here can stop them.” His free hand twitched at his side. “And they think it’s funny.”

(Y/N) sighed, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. “I know. I hate them too, but getting all worked up over it right now isn’t gonna change anything.”

Silco let out a sharp breath through his nose but didn’t argue.

By the time they reached the bar, it was mostly quiet inside- Felicia was gone, and Vander was nowhere in sight. The faint scent of smoke and spilled liquor still lingered in the air, a comforting kind of familiar.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Silco didn’t even hesitate.

He grabbed her wrist and strode toward the bar, tugging her along as he muttered under his breath.

(Y/N) sighed but followed, watching as he grabbed his worn journal from its usual spot behind the counter. He flipped it open, snatching up a pencil before immediately scrawling down his thoughts with quick, sharp strokes.

“They patrol these streets like they’re theirs,” he muttered, writing furiously as he spoke. “They walk through our city and act as if we should be grateful for their presence- like we owe them something.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Zaun belongs to us, not them. And yet, they still try to keep us beneath their boot.”

(Y/N) leaned against the bar, watching as he continued to scribble down his thoughts. She took another slow drag of her cigarette, letting the moment pass in silence.

Finally, she exhaled, smoke curling between them as she muttered, “You’re gonna run out of pages at this rate.”

Silco paused, glancing up at her. His fingers still gripped the pencil tightly, knuckles faintly white.

“…I need to write it down,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “If I don’t, I feel like I’ll suffocate on it.”

(Y/N) studied him for a moment before nodding, reaching over to grab his half-full glass left on the bar from earlier. She pushed it toward him.

“Then write,” she said simply. “Get it out.”

Silco held her gaze for a long moment before finally relenting. He picked up the glass, took a slow sip, and then returned to his journal.

(Y/N) didn’t push him to stop. She just sat there, finishing her cigarette, keeping him company as he poured his frustration onto the pages.

Vander stepped out from the back, rubbing a towel over his hands, and immediately spotted Silco hunched over the bar, writing furiously. (Y/N) sat beside him, cigarette between her fingers, watching with quiet patience.

Vander sighed. “Alright,” he muttered, tossing the towel onto the counter as he walked over. “What happened this time?”

Silco didn’t look up. “Enforcers,” he said simply, the word laced with venom as he continued writing.

Vander exhaled through his nose, glancing at (Y/N) for clarification.

She rolled her eyes, flicking the ash from her cigarette. “We were just out for a smoke. They decided to stop us and start asking questions.” She shrugged. “Nothing new.”

Silco scoffed, shaking his head. “That’s the problem. It shouldn’t be normal, but it is. They act like they own everything- even the damn streets we stand on.” He jabbed the pencil against the page, underlining something aggressively. “They weren’t even looking for anything. They just wanted to remind us who’s in control.”

Vander frowned, crossing his arms. “You didn’t mouth off too much, did you?”

Silco shot him a look.

Vander sighed again. “I mean it, Silco. We can’t afford to be on their radar right now.”

Silco clenched his jaw but didn’t argue. (Y/N) nudged his foot lightly with hers. “I already got on him about that,” she muttered. “He behaved.”

Vander gave Silco a long, knowing look before shaking his head and grabbing himself a drink. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

Silco let out a sharp exhale and finally- finally- set the pencil down. He ran a hand through his hair before rubbing his eyes, the frustration still simmering under his skin.

Vander leaned against the counter, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Look, I get it,” he said after a moment. “I do. But we gotta pick our battles. Fighting every time they piss us off?” He shook his head. “That ain’t winnable.”

Silco muttered something under his breath, but Vander ignored it.

(Y/N) reached over, lightly tapping Silco’s journal with her fingers. “You feel better now?”

Silco studied the pages, his jaw working. After a long pause, he exhaled and gave a small, reluctant nod.

“…Yeah,” he admitted.

(Y/N) smirked, tapping the journal again. “Good. Then drink something and cool off before you start a revolution right here at the bar.”

Vander chuckled at that, though Silco only shot her a dry look before grabbing his glass.

The tension in Silco’s shoulders finally began to ease as he nursed his drink, but (Y/N) could still feel the way his fingers drummed against the bar- a telltale sign that his mind was still running a mile a minute.

Vander watched him for a moment before sighing and rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, I know you hate it, Silco. I do too. But we need to be smart. We can’t afford to stir up trouble, not now.”

Silco scoffed. “Smart would be not letting Piltover walk all over us in the first place.”

(Y/N) shot him a warning look, nudging his thigh with hers. “Silco.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, but he didn’t push the argument further. Instead, he took another sip of his drink, fingers tightening around the glass.

Vander shook his head, but before he could say anything else, the door to the bar swung open.

Felicia walked in, looking tired but in good spirits, her hand resting on the curve of her growing stomach. She glanced at the three of them, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you all look like you just got chewed up and spit out?”

(Y/N) sighed. “Silco had a run-in with Enforcers.”

Felicia let out a groan, dragging a hand down her face as she made her way over to the bar. “Of course he did.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Silco muttered, though the bitterness was still clear in his voice.

Felicia waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, and I’m sure you were just a ray of sunshine about it.” She lowered herself onto a stool, exhaling. “Connol would have a fit if he knew I came back out here this late, but I needed some air... Snuck back over here after he passed out.”

(Y/N) tilted her head, watching her friend carefully. “Everything okay?”

Felicia hesitated, glancing down as she tapped her fingers against the counter. “Yeah,” she finally said, but her voice lacked its usual energy. “Just… adjusting. It’s all just… A lot. Ya know?”

Vander placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not alone in this, Fel.”

She gave him a tired smile. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

For a moment, the conversation lulled into a comfortable silence. Silco, having finally calmed down, leaned against (Y/N), resting his chin on his hand as she absentmindedly ran her fingers over the back of his.

Vander took a deep breath, glancing at each of them in turn before speaking. “Look, I know things are changing. For all of us. But we stick together, yeah? No matter what.”

Felicia smiled. “Yeah. No matter what.”

Silco didn’t say anything, but the way his fingers curled around (Y/N)’s told her he was thinking the same thing.

The days started to pass in a blur. The Undercity was alive with its usual chaos, but within the walls of The Last Drop, an anxious energy had settled over their group. Felicia was nearing her due date, and while she was still as sharp-tongued as ever, there was an underlying exhaustion in her movements, a weight to her steps.

(Y/N) found her leaning against the bar one evening, hand resting on the curve of her belly as she sipped at a cup of tea. Vander had all but banned her from drinking anything stronger, and despite her grumbling, she hadn't put up much of a fight.

“You alright?” (Y/N) asked, sliding onto the stool next to her.

Felicia sighed, rubbing a slow hand over her stomach. “Define alright.”

(Y/N) smirked. “Not in immediate distress?”

Felicia let out a tired laugh. “Guess I’m alright, then.” She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “I just want this kid out already. If I have to waddle up and down those damn stairs one more time, I’m throwing myself off ‘em.”

Silco, seated at the other end of the bar, raised a brow but didn’t comment. He’d taken to watching everything more closely these past few weeks, as if expecting Felicia to suddenly go into labor right in front of them.

Vander, ever the caretaker, appeared from the back with a fresh glass of water, placing it in front of Felicia with a knowing look. “You should be resting.”

Felicia rolled her eyes. “Resting? In this place?” She gestured vaguely to the lively bar, where the usual ruckus of drinkers and gamblers filled the air. “Yeah, sure, let me just take a nap on the damn pool table.”

Vander sighed but didn’t push the issue. Instead, he ruffled her hair- a move that earned him a glare- as he turned to (Y/N). “And you? Keeping this one outta trouble?” He nodded toward Silco, who smirked against the rim of his glass.

(Y/N) let out an exaggerated sigh, resting her chin in her hand. “Trying my best, but you know how he is.”

Silco hummed. “I take offense to that.”

“Do you?” she teased.

“Not enough to stop.”

Before the conversation could continue, Felicia suddenly inhaled sharply, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter. Vander was at her side instantly, concern flashing across his face.

“What is it?”

Felicia clenched her jaw, exhaling through her nose. “What do you think?” she muttered. “Shit. Okay. Yeah. This is happening.”

A brief silence followed before (Y/N) blinked. “Wait- now?”

Felicia shot her a dry look. “No, I just enjoy false alarms.”

Vander’s eyes widened before he sprang into action. “Alright, alright- Silco, go get Connol.”

Silco was already on his feet, moving swiftly toward the door without argument. (Y/N) stood as well, steadying Felicia when she swayed slightly.

“Shit,” Felicia muttered again, gripping (Y/N)’s arm. “This is really happening.”

(Y/N) squeezed her hand. “We got you.”

Vander’s voice was firm as he turned toward one of the regulars. “Go get Ren- the doc down by the Fissures. Tell her we need her now.”

The bar’s usual noise dulled as people began to realize what was happening. Even those deep into their drinks straightened, exchanging glances as Vander helped Felicia toward the back. This was it.

Violet was coming.

Vander and (Y/N) helped Felicia into the back, guiding her toward the large basin they had set up in advance. It wasn’t much, but it was the cleanest and most private place they could manage in The Last Drop. 

“Alright, easy now,” Vander muttered as they eased her down, Felicia gripping his arm in a way that made him wince.

(Y/N) hovered nearby, adjusting the blankets and towels they had stocked up for this exact moment. “See? The baby bin was a good idea,” she quipped, though the grin on her face was half-nervous energy.

Felicia shot her a glare between labored breaths. “Swear to god, (Y/N), if you call it that one more time, I’ll personally haunt you from the grave.”

(Y/N) held up her hands in surrender, but her smirk remained.

Before Felicia could threaten her further, a sharp pain stole her breath, her fingers tightening in Vander’s grip. He murmured something low and reassuring, rubbing slow circles along her back.

The door banged open, and Silco stepped in, Connol right behind him. Connol’s face was paler than usual, his eyes wide as he took in the scene.

“She-?” he started, but Felicia cut him off with a growl.

“No, I just enjoy sitting in a tub for fun. Yes, Connol, she’s coming.”

Connol swallowed hard but nodded, moving quickly to her side. He knelt beside the basin, brushing damp strands of hair from Felicia’s forehead. “I’m here,” he murmured. “I got you.”

Felicia’s gaze softened- just for a moment- before another contraction hit, and she nearly crushed his fingers in hers.

The next few hours blurred into a haze of pain, muttered reassurances, and Felicia cursing like a sailor. Ren, the woman Vander had sent for, arrived quickly, taking charge with a practiced calm. “Alright, breathe, girl. We’re doing this.”

(Y/N) stayed close, offering Felicia sips of water between contractions while Vander kept her steady. Silco stood nearby, arms crossed, eyes sharp as he watched everything unfold. He didn’t speak much, but he didn’t leave either.

At some point, (Y/N) felt a hand brush against hers, and when she glanced up, she saw Silco had moved closer. He didn’t say anything, just gave her fingers a small squeeze before letting go.

And then- after what felt like both forever and no time at all- a sharp, gasping cry filled the room.

Silence fell as Ren caught the tiny, wriggling newborn, carefully cleaning her before wrapping her in one of the blankets (Y/N) had set aside. She turned to Felicia and Connol, a rare smile tugging at her lips.

“It’s a girl.”

Felicia let out something between a laugh and a sob, her head falling back against Vander’s shoulder. Connol was already reaching out, his hands shaking as he took the tiny bundle from Ren.

Vander exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Shit,” he muttered, but he was smiling.

(Y/N) leaned over, peering at the newborn. “Well, hello there, Violet,” she murmured, smiling softly at the small girl.

Felicia sighed, exhausted but content, as she reached for her daughter. As soon as Violet was in her arms, she quieted, curling up against her mother’s chest.

Silco, standing just behind (Y/N), exhaled softly. “A new addition to Zaun,” he mused.

Vander snorted. “To the Undercity,” he corrected, though there was no real fight behind it.

Silco smirked. “For now.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes but didn’t comment. Instead, she just leaned against Silco’s side, watching as Felicia and Connol marveled at their daughter.

The Last Drop had always been filled with noise- arguments, laughter, plans whispered in the dark. But tonight, for just a moment, everything felt quieter.

Violet was here. And the world had changed just a little more.

The room slowly settled after the chaos of birth, the sharp edge of urgency fading into something softer. Felicia was exhausted, her head lolling against Connol’s shoulder as he helped her up from the tub. Vander hovered close, just in case she needed more support, but Connol held her steady.

“C’mon, love,” Connol murmured, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Felicia barely had the energy to nod, but she leaned into him as he led her upstairs to the washroom. Vander followed them partway before stopping at the base of the stairs, watching until they disappeared.

That left (Y/N) with Violet.

She adjusted her hold on the tiny newborn, cradling her carefully as she made her way to the back booths. The baby was warm, bundled snugly in the softest blanket they could find. Her little fingers twitched, curling slightly in sleep.

Ren, ever the watchful presence, remained nearby, settling in the seat across from (Y/N). She was quiet as she cleaned off her hands, but her sharp gaze stayed on Violet, monitoring every little movement.

(Y/N) shifted slightly, rocking the baby as she let out a tiny whimper. “Hey now, no need for that,” she murmured, voice soft. “You’ve had a big day already.”

Violet let out a tiny, breathy sigh, nuzzling deeper into the blanket.

Ren smirked. “You’ve got the touch,” she commented, leaning back in her seat.

(Y/N) scoffed lightly. “You say that like I haven’t been around babies before.”

Ren shrugged. “Still. She likes you.”

(Y/N) glanced down at the small bundle in her arms, the steady rise and fall of Violet’s tiny chest. A small, unfamiliar warmth bloomed in her chest.

She pressed a finger gently against Violet’s palm, watching as the baby’s tiny fingers curled around it.

“She’s so small,” (Y/N) murmured.

Ren nodded. “They always are.”

A moment of quiet settled between them, only the faint sounds of the bar in the distance filling the space.

(Y/N) exhaled, leaning back slightly in the booth. “You think she’ll be okay here?” she asked, voice low.

Ren studied her for a moment before replying, “She’ll be okay as long as she’s got people who give a damn about her.”

(Y/N) smirked slightly. “Well, then she’s got a damn good start.”

Ren huffed out a small laugh but nodded in agreement.

(Y/N) looked down at Violet again, her thumb tracing slow circles along the baby’s hand. “Welcome to Zaun, little one,” she whispered.

After some time, Connol came back downstairs, looking far more at ease than when he had first gone up. His hair was still slightly damp from where Felicia had likely splashed him in the bath, but there was a softness in his expression that hadn’t been there before.

(Y/N) carefully handed Violet over, watching as Connol took the baby with gentle hands, cradling her close to his chest. For someone who had been panicked about fatherhood, he certainly looked like he had already fallen into the role.

“She’s a quiet one,” (Y/N) mused, stretching slightly as the weight of the baby left her arms.

Connol chuckled, rocking Violet slightly. “Let’s hope she stays that way.” He glanced toward the stairs. “Felicia’s asking for her.”

(Y/N) nodded, watching as he made his way upstairs, disappearing into the guest room Vander had prepared weeks ago. It had been his idea to set up the room, knowing full well that expecting Felicia to go back and forth between Connol’s apartment and the bar after giving birth was ridiculous.

“She’ll be better off here for a bit,” Vander had said, arms crossed as he stood in the doorway, looking over the freshly made bed and the small bassinet tucked in the corner. “Least until she’s ready to be up and about again.”

Vander had been right. Now, with Felicia recovering and Violet so small, it was easier to have them close.

(Y/N) leaned back into the booth with a sigh, rubbing her arms lightly. The warmth of the newborn was already missed, but a dull ache lingered in her shoulders from holding her so long. Ren, still sitting across from her, was watching the stairs before shifting her gaze back to (Y/N).

“You alright?” she asked.

(Y/N) nodded slightly. “Yeah. Just… glad there were no complications…”

Ren hummed in agreement but didn’t press further.

A moment later, Silco appeared, making his way over to their booth with a slow, measured stride. He didn’t say anything as he slid in beside (Y/N), settling in close enough for their legs to brush beneath the table.

(Y/N) glanced at him, arching a brow. “You good?”

Silco exhaled through his nose, leaning his elbow on the table as he studied her. “You were holding the baby for a long time.”

(Y/N) smirked. “What, worried my arms are gonna fall off?”

Silco scoffed lightly, but there was something thoughtful in his expression. “Just didn’t think you were the type to get all soft over a newborn.”

Ren snorted at that. “She was cooing at her.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Silco smirked, shifting slightly so his arm draped over the back of the booth behind her. “I suppose it suits you.”

(Y/N) shot him a look, but Silco only grinned, reaching over to steal her cigarette from the ashtray. She let him, shaking her head as he took a slow drag.

The three of them sat there in quiet for a moment, the noise of the bar distant, the air between them easy.

Eventually, Vander’s voice carried over from behind the counter. “You two planning on sitting there all night, or you gonna help me close up?”

(Y/N) sighed dramatically, pushing herself up from the booth. “Yeah, yeah, we’re coming.”

Silco took another lazy drag before finally moving, and Ren stretched before standing, heading out of the bar to leave them to it. The bar was winding down, but the night still had a few hours left in it.

And as they worked together, cleaning up for the night, there was an unspoken understanding between them.

Zaun- their Zaun- had just gained its newest citizen.

After Violet’s birth, time passed in a blur.

Felicia was exhausted, but she was managing. Connol barely left her side, and between (Y/N), Vander, and Silco she always had someone around to help her with Violet. Despite all the teasing about the "baby bin," (Y/N) had taken to the newborn more than anyone expected. Whenever Felicia needed rest, (Y/N) was the first to scoop Violet up, walking her around the bar, humming soft melodies as she cradled her close. Even Silco had been caught watching them with a raised brow, though he never commented on it.

The Undercity had been relatively quiet, though tensions with Piltover never truly faded. Enforcers still patrolled the Lanes, their presence an ever-looming reminder that peace was fragile.

One evening, after the bar had finally emptied out, Vander leaned against the counter, running a rag over a glass before setting it down. “So,” he started, looking toward Felicia, who was sitting with Violet in her arms, slowly rocking her. “You given any thought to when you’re heading back to Connol’s?”

Felicia let out a tired sigh, shifting Violet slightly. “Haven’t really thought about it.” She glanced toward Connol, who was sitting beside her, his hand resting on her knee. “I mean, I know we can’t stay here forever, but-”

“You can stay,” Vander cut in. “Long as you need.”

Felicia gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Vander.”

Time moved strangely in the days that followed- marked less by clocks and more by feedings, naps, and the soft lull of lullabies echoing through the walls. The once-rowdy atmosphere of The Last Drop had softened around the edges. It hadn’t lost its grit, but it had found something gentler nestled in its corners. Slowly, routines formed. Chaos gave way to rhythm. And though everyone knew things couldn’t stay this way forever, no one was in a rush to change it.

Gone were the lazy, whiskey-slow starts. Now, the day often began with the soft, hiccupping cries of Violet filtering down the stairwell, a sound that had somehow become comforting despite the initial panic it caused that first night.

It was still early when (Y/N) padded out of her room, her socks silent on the floorboards. The bar was quiet, save for the faint clink of glass from downstairs- Vander, already up and prepping for the day. She crossed the hall and carefully nudged open the door to the guest room.

Inside, the air was warm and dim. Felicia was curled up in bed, snoring softly, while Connol sat in the rocking chair nearby, shirt half-buttoned and eyes glassy with exhaustion. Violet rested against his shoulder, fussing quietly.

“Tag out,” (Y/N) whispered, stepping fully into the room.

Connol blinked, surprised. “You sure? She’s been fussy all-”

“I got her.” She held out her arms.

He hesitated for only a second before easing Violet into her embrace, careful not to wake her fully. (Y/N) cradled the baby against her chest, rocking her gently as she stepped back toward the hall.

“I’ll take her downstairs. You sleep.”

Connol didn’t argue. The second the door clicked shut, she heard the chair creak as he collapsed into it with a sigh.

Downstairs, the bar was still lit with the soft haze of early morning. Vander glanced up from wiping the counter, a brow raised as he saw her walk in, gently bouncing Violet against her shoulder.

“You’re up early,” he said.

(Y/N) shrugged. “So is she.”

He grinned. “She’s already got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?”

“Shut up,” (Y/N) muttered, but she didn’t deny it. She moved to the booth by the window, settling Violet into the crook of her arm as she sat. The baby stirred but didn’t cry, instead letting out a soft sigh as she pressed her tiny face against (Y/N)’s collarbone.

Vander brought over a mug of tea, placing it in front of her with a smirk. “Don’t worry. Happens to the best of us.”

She rolled her eyes but accepted the tea, sipping quietly as the morning light crept in through the cracks in the shutters.

By midday, the rest of the gang had trickled in.

Felicia emerged looking like death warmed over, wrapped in a blanket and shuffling toward the bar like a woman possessed. “Coffee,” she croaked.

“Tea,” Vander corrected, placing a steaming mug in front of her.

Felicia stared at it like it had personally wronged her. “This is a hate crime.”

(Y/N) snorted from her seat, Violet still asleep in her arms. “Just drink it, mom.”

Felicia shot her a glare, but the word “mom” clearly hadn’t sunk in yet- it left her blinking, dazed, as she slowly sat down beside her.

Silco showed up not long after, unlit cigarette tucked behind his ear, hair slightly disheveled from sleep. He paused in the doorway when he saw (Y/N) cradling Violet, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, quietly, he made his way over and leaned against the table.

“She always that quiet for you?” he asked.

(Y/N) shrugged, glancing down at the baby. “She likes me.”

Silco’s eyes flicked between the two of them. “Apparently.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “You jealous?”

“Of a baby?” he scoffed. “Hardly.”

But she caught the corner of his mouth twitching- just barely- and she smiled to herself.

That evening, the bar was closed early for the first time in weeks. A slow lull settled over the place as everyone found themselves in the common area past the backroom, too tired to talk much, but too content to separate.

Felicia sat curled up on one end of the couch, head in Connol’s lap as he gently played with her hair. Vander had claimed his usual armchair, a bottle of something strong resting on his thigh. Silco leaned against the windowsill, arms crossed as he looked out over the Lanes, but every so often, his gaze flicked back toward (Y/N), who was curled up in the center of the couch with Violet dozing against her chest.

It wasn’t until Violet gave a tiny, hiccuping cry that the whole room stirred. Felicia made a tired sound, but before she could move, (Y/N) was already on her feet, cradling the baby with practiced ease.

“I got her,” she said softly, gently bouncing Violet.

Felicia gave her a look. “You know you’re not obligated, right? We can take care of our own kid.”

(Y/N) smirked. “Yeah, but I want to.”

That caught everyone off guard, if only for a moment. Silco’s eyes narrowed slightly, watching her with a strange intensity. Vander set his drink down.

“She’s really grown on you,” he said, not unkindly.

(Y/N) nodded, her voice quiet. “I didn’t think she would… but she has.”

Violet finally settled again, her tiny fingers curling into the fabric of (Y/N)’s shirt. The whole room seemed to exhale at once.

Felicia tilted her head. “You ever think about having one?”

(Y/N) blinked. “Me? No. Gods, no.”

Felicia smirked. “Could’ve fooled me.”

(Y/N) glanced down at Violet, brushing her knuckles against the baby’s soft cheek. “…Maybe someday. If the world doesn’t burn down first.”

Silco’s voice cut in quietly from the window. “It already is.”

(Y/N) met his gaze, holding it. “Then we make something good in the ashes.”

No one had a response to that. Not right away.

Eventually, Felicia yawned and nudged Connol. “Alright, dad duty. You’re on.”

Connol groaned but stood, taking Violet gently from (Y/N)’s arms. She lingered just a second longer before letting go, fingers brushing the baby’s blanket with a reluctant kind of affection.

Silco watched her the whole time.

As the group slowly dispersed for the night, he hung back until it was just the two of them left in the bar. She was standing by the window now, arms folded as she stared out into the flickering lights of the Undercity.

“You’re acting different,” he said finally, stepping closer.

(Y/N) glanced at him. “That obvious?”

He shrugged. “Maybe not to them. But I notice.”

She was quiet for a moment, then: “I think I’m just… remembering things I didn’t think I still had in me.”

Silco didn’t press. He just stood beside her, their shoulders nearly touching, the silence between them as comfortable as anything else.

Eventually, (Y/N) looked up at him with a tired smile.

“Want to hold her tomorrow when I watch her?”

Silco stared at her, surprised. “…You trust me with her?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I trust you with a lot more than that.”

And for once, Silco didn’t have a sharp reply.

He just nodded, voice quieter than usual. “…Alright.”

The next morning was slow, the kind that crept in through dusty windows and settled over The Last Drop like a warm blanket.

(Y/N) was already awake, wandering barefoot through the bar in one of Silco’s oversized shirts she’d stolen some time ago, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her hair was pulled back haphazardly, now that it had grown out a bit. She didn’t care. She’d gotten the baby back to sleep, and in this place, that was a damn victory.

Silco was seated at the counter, watching her.

He didn’t mean to- at least, not like that closely. He’d come down for a quiet drink and maybe a bit of peace before the rest of the world woke up. Instead, he’d walked in to see her cradling Violet in the crook of her arm, bottle in one hand, humming softly under her breath.

And now, she was swaying by the booth with the baby propped on her shoulder, gently patting her back. No fanfare. No dramatics. Just soft, instinctual care.

He watched the way her fingers moved- gentle, practiced, careful. The way she whispered nonsense to Violet, murmuring things like “You’ve got your mother’s glare, you know that?” and “If you scream again, I’m letting Uncle Vander take you for a walk.”

Silco’s throat felt dry. Uncomfortably so.

She caught him staring when she turned, arching a brow but smiling around it. “You watching me or the baby?”

“Yes,” he said before he could stop himself.

(Y/N) snorted. “Charming.”

She moved toward the counter, shifting Violet to her other arm and reaching for the warm bottle she’d left to reheat in a bowl of water. She tested the temperature on the inside of her wrist, nodded to herself, and offered it to the half-sleeping baby. Violet latched without complaint, tiny fingers curling into the fabric of (Y/N)’s shirt.

Silco… swallowed hard.

“You want to hold her?” she asked casually, like it wasn’t the most loaded question in the world.

Silco blinked. “Now?”

She glanced at him. “You said you wanted to. You can back out.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not backing out.”

She grinned, stepping closer. “Alright, then sit up straight. Support her neck. She doesn’t like sudden movements.”

Silco gave her a dry look. “You do remember who you’re talking to, right?”

“You’re not intimidating when you’re being handed a baby,” she deadpanned, then gently passed Violet into his arms.

She adjusted his grip, her fingers brushing against his forearms, and then pulled back just enough to watch.

Violet nestled against him, her tiny fingers fisting in the collar of his vest.

Silco stared down at her like she was a live grenade.

(Y/N) sat beside him, watching the way his entire body tensed. “You look like you’re about to be attacked.”

“She’s… small,” he muttered, eyes locked on Violet’s sleepy face.

“Babies usually are.”

“I could crush her.”

“You won’t.”

There was a pause, quiet save for Violet’s soft sucking noises as she finished the bottle.

“She trusts you,” (Y/N) said softly, watching him. “I do too.”

Silco looked at her then.

Really looked.

She was a mess- hair tousled, skin still glowing faintly from sleep, and bags under her eyes.

She was also… radiant.

Her hands were capable of violence and fury and fire- but now, they were warm and gentle, holding softness like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And something about seeing her like that- still strong, but so tender- it undid something in him.

“…What?” she asked when she noticed him staring.

Silco blinked. “Nothing.”

(Y/N)’s lips curled. “You’ve got that look. The ‘I just had a dark, brooding epiphany’ look.”

“I do not have a look.”

She reached over and tapped between his brows. “This. Right here. You’re doing it.”

He caught her hand, not roughly, but firmly. “I was thinking.”

“Dangerous habit,” She mocked, repeating something he had told her time and time before.

Silco’s thumb brushed along the side of her hand without thinking, lingering longer than necessary.

“I was thinking…” he started, voice low, “...that you’ve changed a bit.”

(Y/N) tilted her head. “Not sure if that’s a compliment.”

“It is,” he said quietly. “You… surprise me.”

(Y/N)’s gaze softened just slightly. “I could say the same about you.”

They stayed there like that for a long moment. Silco still cradling Violet, (Y/N) leaning in a little closer, their forearms brushing on the countertop.

Violet let out a soft gurgle, breaking the silence, and (Y/N) chuckled.

“Alright, time to burp her before she explodes,” she said, reaching for the baby.

But Silco didn’t hand her over right away.

His fingers lingered on the back of Violet’s head for a moment longer, then slowly passed her back with a care that didn’t go unnoticed.

(Y/N) adjusted Violet on her shoulder, gently patting her back. “You did good,” she murmured, half to him, half to the baby.

Silco watched her, then stood, muttering, “I need to get some air.”

He left before she could tease him- but not before she saw the flush climbing up the back of his neck.

Ember in the Dark pt.4

Young!Silco x Fem!Reader

pt.3 - pt.5

pt.1

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Smoking, and threat/following.

Word Count: 3895

Summary: Drunk and lost in thought, (Y/N) is helped to her room by Silco, who dismisses her drunken compliments about his appearance despite the buried feelings they stir. The next morning, she wakes with a pounding hangover and regret but pushes forward. Down in the bar, she shares a tense yet teasing conversation with Silco about the previous night. After making breakfast for their group, (Y/N), Silco, Vander, and Felicia head out to handle supply shipments. Along the way, (Y/N) notices hooded figures following them. She and Silco silently acknowledge the potential threat, deciding to stay cautious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night stretched on, the hum of the Undercity’s distant machinery a lull beneath the quiet of the nearly empty bar.

(Y/N) had long since stopped paying attention to her drink, her fingers still loosely curled around her cigarette, the ember fading to nothing. She slumped against the bar, her head resting on her folded arms, her thoughts drifting somewhere Silco couldn’t follow.

He watched her for a moment, then sighed.

She was a mess. But then again, weren’t they all?

With quiet efficiency, he slid off his stool, stepping around to her side. "Come on," he murmured, voice softened just enough to be different from his usual sharpness.

She barely moved, blinking sluggishly as he pried the cigarette from her fingers, snuffing it out before guiding her up. She was unsteady, the alcohol dragging her limbs down like lead, but she followed his lead without complaint.

He brought her to her room- small, tucked away, but hers. He wasn’t gentle, not exactly, but he was careful as he eased her onto the thin mattress. She flopped onto it with a quiet sigh, her eyes half-lidded, lost somewhere between wakefulness and the pull of exhaustion.

Silco turned to leave.

Then- a hand on his wrist.

Her grip was weak, barely there, but it stopped him nonetheless.

He glanced back.

(Y/N) wasn’t looking at him, her gaze still distant, but her fingers curled slightly, as if to keep him from disappearing like the rest of her thoughts.

For a long moment, Silco just stood there.

Then, with an exhale, he sat down at the edge of the bed.

He wouldn’t stay forever. But for now? He’d stay.

(Y/N) stared up at him, her eyes glassy, unfocused- but still seeing him. Really seeing him.

Silco wasn’t looking at her. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers loosely clasped together as he exhaled through his nose. He looked exhausted, always carrying the weight of his thoughts, his ambitions. The dim light filtering through the grimy window cast soft shadows over his face, highlighting sharp angles, tired blue eyes.

Gods, he was pretty.

The thought drifted through her whiskey-soaked mind before she could stop it, her lips parting slightly as if she might say it aloud.

She had fallen in love with him years ago, back when they were younger, when their world had been a little smaller, their dreams a little simpler. She had never said anything, never acted on it. What good would it do? They had always been fighting for survival, struggling to carve out something more in a city that tried to swallow them whole.

But the whiskey made her tongue looser than it should have been.

"You know," she murmured, her voice softer than usual, slightly slurred. "You’re really pretty."

Silco blinked, turning his head to look at her properly.

(Y/N) just smiled lazily, her cheek pressed against the pillow, eyes still locked on his face. "Too pretty, really… s’not fair."

Silco scoffed, shaking his head. "You’re drunk."

She hummed in agreement. "Maybe."

He looked away, rubbing a hand over his face, muttering something under his breath about her being a lightweight.

(Y/N) just kept watching him, her mind a fog of whiskey and years of feelings buried too deep.

"Bet you don’t even realize," she mused, her voice barely above a whisper.

Silco turned back to her, brow furrowed. "Realize what?"

(Y/N) just smiled, slow and lopsided.

"Nothing," she murmured, letting her eyes slip shut. She’d keep her secret, for now.

Sleep took her quickly, pulling her under like the tide. The stress of the day, the weight of unspoken thoughts, and the whiskey swirling in her system all dragged her into the depths of exhaustion.

Silco sat there for a moment longer, watching the slow, steady rise and fall of her breath.

She had always been like this- carrying too much, saying too little. Even now, in her drunken haze, she had stopped herself before saying something real.

With a quiet exhale, he stood, carefully pulling the thin blanket over her.

"Idiot," he muttered, though there was no real bite to the word.

Then, with one last glance at her sleeping form, he turned and left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

(Y/N) woke with a groan, her head pounding like someone had taken a hammer to the inside of her skull. Her mouth was dry, her stomach twisted in protest, and every little sound outside her room felt like a personal attack.

Shit.

She had done this to herself. Again.

It wasn’t the first time she had woken up feeling like death after drinking too much, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Still, that didn’t make it any less miserable.

For a moment, she just lay there, her face buried in the pillow, trying to will the world away. But she knew better. The longer she stayed in bed, the worse she’d feel.

With a groan, she forced herself to sit up. The room spun slightly, her stomach lurching in protest, but she swallowed it down, running a hand through her tangled hair.

She needed water. Food, maybe. And a cigarette.

With slow, sluggish movements, she dragged herself out of bed and started getting ready for the day, just like every other morning.

(Y/N) moved through her morning routine on autopilot, every action deliberate and slow to avoid making herself feel worse. Don’t move too fast, don’t think too hard, don’t throw up.

By the time she was dressed, her head still felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and her stomach was a mess of nausea and regret. But she had survived worse.

She made her way downstairs, the air in the bar thick with the lingering scent of old liquor and smoke. It was still early- too early for business. The Last Drop didn’t open until midday, sometimes later, depending on what Vander felt like or how much of a headache they all had to deal with.

The place was quiet, save for the distant hum of the Undercity beyond the walls.

(Y/N) let out a slow breath and leaned against the bar, rubbing at her temple. She needed coffee. Or maybe just another drink to even herself out.

She wasn’t sure which sounded worse.

(Y/N) opted for the easiest solution- whiskey.

With a practiced reach over the bar, she grabbed the bottle and poured herself a glass, the amber liquid sloshing slightly as she tried to be steady. She took a slow sip, wincing as the burn hit her throat. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was better than the headache clawing at her skull.

She was halfway through the glass when she heard footsteps descending the stairs.

Silco.

He stepped into the dimly lit bar, looking as put-together as ever, despite the late night before. His sharp gaze flickered to her, then down to the glass in her hand.

“Whiskey for breakfast?” he asked dryly, his voice laced with amusement.

(Y/N) didn’t bother looking up. “Helps the headache.”

Silco scoffed, moving toward the bar. “It causes the headache.”

She shrugged, taking another sip. “Then I’m just balancing things out.”

He leaned against the counter, watching her for a long moment.

“You remember anything from last night?” he asked, his tone casual- too casual.

That made her pause.

She frowned slightly, her mind sluggish as she tried to recall the details of the night before. She remembered drinking. She remembered feeling heavy- dragged down by old memories and smoke. She remembered Silco bringing her to bed…

And then-

Shit.

She had said something, hadn’t she?

(Y/N) took another sip of whiskey, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Not much,” she muttered. “Just that I drank too much.”

Silco hummed, unconvinced, but he didn’t push.

“Figures,” he said, reaching over to steal the glass from her hand, taking a sip himself.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes but didn’t argue… Maybe it was better if they both let last night go.

(Y/N) exhaled a long breath, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with steady hands- too steady, considering the storm in her head.

She didn’t want to let it go.

Even if the whiskey had dulled the details, she knew what had been there underneath- the truth of it. It wasn’t some drunken slip, some meaningless flattery. It had been real.

And maybe it was stupid, definitely reckless, but for once, she didn’t want to bite her tongue and bury it.

She watched as Silco took another sip from her glass, his sharp eyes already moving past the conversation, onto something else.

(Y/N) took a slow drag of her cigarette, letting the smoke settle in her lungs before she spoke.

“I meant it.”

Silco raised a brow, setting the glass down with a quiet clink. “Meant what?”

Her fingers tightened slightly around the cigarette. “What I said last night.”

Silco studied her, the amusement from earlier fading into something unreadable.

(Y/N) exhaled smoke, glancing off to the side. “I don’t remember everything, but I know I meant it.” She flicked ash into a nearby tray, her voice lower now. “Still do.”

A beat of silence stretched between them.

Silco leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable. “You are aware you were completely sloshed, yes?”

(Y/N) scoffed. “Doesn’t mean I was wrong.”

Another silence.

Then, Silco smirked, slow and sharp. “I am quite pretty, aren’t I?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the slight curve of her lips. “Asshole.”

Silco just chuckled, pushing the whiskey back toward her. “If you’re going to start confessing things, at least wait until you’re not hungover.”

(Y/N) shook her head, taking another sip. Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn’t… But at least she had said something.

(Y/N) downed the last of her drink, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray before stretching her arms over her head. The whiskey had dulled the edges of her hangover, at least a little, but it wouldn’t last forever.

Time to get moving.

She pushed off the bar, glancing at Silco, who had already made himself comfortable with her glass of whiskey, refilling it. “You planning on helping, or just sitting there looking pretty?”

Silco smirked. “I think you already established my strengths.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and made her way toward the small kitchen in the back. The Last Drop wasn’t exactly known for its fine dining, but they had enough supplies to make something decent- decent meaning anything edible that kept them from starving.

Felicia and Connol usually stopped by around this time, and Benzo wasn’t far behind. It had become something of an unspoken routine, a part of their mornings that had settled naturally into place. And (Y/N)? She was usually the one who ended up making breakfast.

She didn’t mind, though.

It was something normal. A small, steady thing in the chaos of the Undercity.

She gathered what ingredients they had- eggs, some bread that wasn’t too stale, and whatever meat Vander had managed to get his hands on- and started cooking, the familiar sounds of sizzling filling the air as she focused on the simple motions.

Soon, the others would show up. The bar would come alive again, and another day in the Lanes would begin.

(Y/N) carried the plates out to the bar, setting them down so everyone could grab what they wanted when they arrived. The scent of cooked food lingered in the air, mixing with the ever-present smell of smoke and old whiskey.

They still had time before the bar opened for the day, so for now, things were slow- calm, even.

Benzo was the first to arrive, pushing open the door with a casual stride. “Smells good in here,” he commented, tossing a glance toward the food. “Better than whatever the hell that street vendor was sellin’ on my way over.”

(Y/N) smirked as she leaned against the bar. “That’s not exactly a high bar, Benzo.”

He chuckled, grabbing a plate without hesitation. “Hey, food is food.”

Not long after, Felicia and Connol arrived.

Felicia was talking before she even stepped fully inside. “Finally! I was starting to think you forgot about breakfast, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) scoffed. “Like I’d let you starve.”

Connol, quiet as usual, gave a nod in greeting before helping himself to some food. He had been around more lately- a lot more, and while (Y/N) didn’t fully know what to make of him yet, he seemed alright. He made Felicia happy, at least, and that was worth something.

Everyone settled in, eating and talking, the morning taking on the familiar rhythm of their routine. For a little while, it almost felt… normal.

Once breakfast was done and the plates were cleared, (Y/N) wiped her hands on a rag before making her way over to Vander and Silco, who were already deep in conversation near the bar.

Vander had his arms crossed, his usual serious expression in place, while Silco leaned against the counter, flipping through his notebook.

(Y/N) slid into the space between them, raising a brow. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

Vander glanced at her, then exhaled, rubbing a hand over his beard. “Depends.”

Silco, without looking up from his notes, added, “We’ve got some shipments coming in later- nothing major, but enough to keep an eye on.”

Vander nodded. “And I was thinkin’ we might head back to the mines later, put in a few hours. Keep up appearances.”

(Y/N) sighed. They didn’t have to work in the mines as much anymore, not with the Last Drop slowly becoming a more stable source of income, but keeping ties there was still important. “Figures.”

Silco finally shut his notebook, glancing between them. “And, if we have time, I wouldn’t mind checking out a few places in the Lanes. Get a read on things.”

That caught (Y/N)’s attention. “You mean more than just ‘getting a read,’ don’t you?”

Silco smirked. “Always.”

Vander gave him a look but didn’t argue.

(Y/N) crossed her arms, considering. A trip to the Lanes could mean anything- connections, information, or just making sure they weren’t falling behind on what was happening in the Undercity.

“Alright,” she said finally. “Sounds like a full day.”

Vander grunted in agreement, and Silco just gave a knowing tilt of his head. With the plan set, they went over the details quickly.

“Alright,” Vander said, leaning against the bar with his arms crossed. “First, we handle the shipments. Make sure everything’s in order.”

Silco nodded, already thinking ahead. “After that, we move through the Lanes, see what’s stirring. There’s been talk of tensions rising in a few places- I’d rather not be blindsided.”

(Y/N) exhaled, rolling her shoulders. “And then we finish off in the mines.” She smirked. “Saving the best for last.”

Vander chuckled. “We’ll be in and out. Just enough to show our faces.”

Felicia, who had been listening from the side while finishing the last of her drink, stretched her arms over her head. “Sounds like a long day.”

Silco shot her a dry look. “You are still capable of working, yes?”

Felicia smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be there. Just don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

With everything decided, they gathered what they needed. (Y/N) grabbed her coat, Silco tucked his notebook away, and Vander made sure the bar was set to be running while they were gone. He had gotten one of his newly hired bartenders to come in, along with asking Benzo to sit around and drink… Just to watch things. 

Then, without wasting any more time, they headed out into the Undercity to start their day.

Felicia lingered by the door, saying a quick goodbye to Connol before he disappeared into the winding streets of the Undercity. Whatever he did during the day was still a bit of a mystery- probably something inventive. He looked like the type to be scientific, always thinking, always watching.

But that wasn’t (Y/N)’s concern right now.

With Connol gone, the four of them set off, making their way through the dimly lit streets toward where the shipments were being delivered. The air was thick with the usual blend of smoke, oil, and the distant hum of machinery. It was a scent that clung to everything in the Undercity.

As they walked, Vander took the lead, his broad frame naturally clearing a path where needed. Silco, as always, kept sharp eyes on their surroundings, his thoughts likely already drifting toward whatever he expected to find in the Lanes later. Felicia walked beside (Y/N), hands in her pockets, a casual bounce in her step despite the rough streets beneath them.

(Y/N) flicked the butt of a cigarette into the gutter as they approached their destination- a tucked-away storage lot run by a man named Harker, a supplier they’d worked with a few times before. The shipments weren’t anything fancy, just supplies for the Last Drop- booze, some preserved goods, and whatever else they needed to keep the place running.

Vander stepped up first, knocking twice on the metal door. It took a moment, but soon enough, they heard the sound of locks shifting before Harker himself pulled the door open.

The man squinted at them, his face rough with age and soot. “You’re early,” he grunted.

Vander shrugged. “You got it ready or not?”

Harker snorted, stepping aside to let them in. “Yeah, yeah. Come on in. Just don’t touch nothin’ that ain’t yours.”

(Y/N) exchanged a glance with Silco before following the others inside. Time to get to work.

(Y/N) adjusted her grip on one of the heavier crates, the weight digging into her arms as she walked alongside the others. The streets of the Undercity were always filled with movement- faces ducking in and out of alleyways, the low hum of machinery echoing in the distance- but something felt different.

She had noticed them the moment they left the Last Drop- a few hooded figures lingering just a little too long in the alleys, their steps just a little too measured. At first, she thought it might be a coincidence, just another group moving through the Undercity like everyone else.

But now, as they neared the bar, she knew they were being followed.

She didn’t say anything at first, choosing instead to glance toward Silco, who was walking slightly ahead of her. His sharp gaze was usually quick to pick up on things like this- he had to have noticed, right?

Felicia, carrying a smaller crate beside her, was too caught up in complaining about the weight to notice anything. “Seriously, why does alcohol have to be so damn heavy? Can’t we start serving something lighter?”

“Like what?” Vander asked dryly, barely breaking stride.

Felicia huffed. “I dunno, something that doesn’t make my arms feel like they’re gonna fall off.”

(Y/N) wasn’t listening. She shifted her hold on the crate, subtly glancing over her shoulder.

The hooded figures were still there. Three of them. Keeping their distance, but staying close enough that it wasn’t natural.

Her pulse quickened, but her expression remained calm.

Silco turned his head slightly- just enough for his eyes to flicker toward her before looking forward again. He had noticed.

Good.

(Y/n) exhaled through her nose, keeping her pace steady. They were close to the bar now, but that didn’t mean they were safe. Whoever these people were, they weren’t just watching- they were waiting.

For what?

And more importantly- why?

As soon as the last crate was set down in the storage room, (Y/N) dusted off her hands and made her way over to Silco. He was already expecting her.

The others were still busy- Vander double-checking the shipments, Felicia stretching her arms and complaining about the heavy lifting. It gave (Y/N) the perfect moment to pull Silco aside, just out of earshot.

“You saw them too,” she muttered, keeping her voice low.

Silco leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his sharp eyes watching her carefully. “Of course I did.” His tone was calm, but there was a knowing edge to it.

(Y/N) exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “They’ve been following us since we left the bar. I didn’t get a good look, but… they weren’t just passing through.”

Silco hummed in agreement. “No. They weren’t.”

That unsettled her. If Silco was concerned, it meant this wasn’t just her overthinking things.

“You think they’re watching us specifically?” she asked.

Silco tilted his head slightly, considering. “Possibly. Could be unrelated, but I doubt it.” He glanced toward the door. “Three of them, moving like they had a purpose. If they wanted to attack, they would’ve done it already. That means they were either scouting us or waiting for something.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms. “And that’s what worries me.”

Silco studied her for a moment before lowering his voice even further. “Did you notice anything about them? Anything off?”

(Y/N) thought back. They moved well, blending into the streets with ease. But something had felt strange about them. “Their movements were too careful,” she muttered. “Like they weren’t just random thugs.”

Silco’s expression didn’t change, but she could see the gears turning in his head. “We’ll have to keep an eye out. If they’re still around by the time we head to the Lanes, we’ll know for sure.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Should we tell Vander and Felicia?”

Silco considered it, then shook his head. “Not yet. No need to spook them if this turns out to be nothing.” (Y/N) hesitated but ultimately agreed. For now, they’d just have to watch their backs.

With the shipments handled and the Last Drop running smoothly for now, the four of them set off once more, weaving through the winding paths of the Undercity. The Lanes were the heart of the Undercity’s chaos- filled with traders, workers, gang members, and those just trying to survive another day. It was where information spread fastest, where rumors carried weight, and where they could keep their fingers on the pulse of the city.

(Y/N) stayed alert, her eyes flickering to the shadows between buildings, the alleys where trouble tended to brew. She hadn’t seen the hooded figures since they returned to the bar, but that didn’t mean they were gone.

Vander led the way, as he often did, his presence alone enough to command respect. People recognized him now- not as some leader, not yet, but as someone reliable, someone who got things done. Silco walked beside him, quiet but watchful, his mind likely still working through the same concerns (Y/N) had.

Felicia, as usual, brought a different kind of energy to the group. “We should get something to eat while we’re out,” she suggested, stretching her arms. “That stew from Elda’s stall? Real good. And I’m starving.”

Vander smirked. “You’re always starving.”

Felicia grinned. “Yeah, well, lifting crates all morning will do that.”

(Y/N) barely heard them, her attention on the movement around them. She caught glimpses of familiar faces- merchants selling scrap, chem-dealers peddling their poisons, Enforcers nowhere to be seen. It was business as usual.

But still… something felt off.

As they rounded a corner near one of the busier market areas, she caught it again- just for a second. A hooded figure, leaning against a wall, just barely in her peripheral vision. By the time she turned her head fully, they were gone.

Her stomach twisted… They were still being watched.

THIS!!! THAT WEIRDO WHO THREATENED ME!!!

I posted the dm's they sent me, but beware, it's completely unhinged.

//Hey everyone! OOC speaking

Here's the accounts run by that aoi asahina creep, so you can block them and avoid interacting:

aoisitsonmyface

sweepingstarlight

bonbonpuppet

king-bon-asahina

bonbonpuppet117

glowstone-mod

aoiasahinasboyfriend

Keep in mind they could have more, so if they're still sending you asks or threats just ignore them, and if you know of any other accounts share them with me so I can add them to the list

Ember in the Dark pt.8

Young!Silco x Fem!Reader

pt.7 - pt.9

pt.1

Warnings: Trauma, Violence/Injury, Self-Isolation/Depression, Malnutrition, Emotional/Physical Exhaustion, Substance Use, Mild Intimacy, pregnancy Discussion, Mild Language.

Word Count: 10115

Summary: After a mission leaves (Y/N) grappling with guilt, she isolates herself, struggling to accept what she has done. Despite her friends' attempts to reach her, it’s Silco’s quiet reassurance that helps her begin to heal. Two weeks later, she reemerges, cutting her hair and returning to work and training, determined to move forward. One night, she confides in Silco, fearing she has become a monster. He reassures her that guilt proves she still has a heart, grounding her in his unwavering support. As life in Zaun stabilizes, the group- Vander, Silco, (Y/N), and Felicia- find comfort in their bond. Together, the group moves forward- not just as friends, but as family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bar was alive with noise- laughter, drunken shouts, the clinking of glasses- but to (Y/N), it all sounded distant. Muted.

She barely noticed the people in her way as she shoved past them, her steps quick, purposeful. Her fingers trembled as she climbed the stairs, her breath unsteady, her mind still caught in the warehouse. Still caught in that moment.

By the time she reached her room, she slammed the door shut and locked it behind her. Only then did she allow herself to exhale.

The room felt suffocating. Her skin felt tainted.

She had done what she needed to do. What they had all agreed had to be done. But the truth settled in her gut like a stone- she wasn’t just the hunted anymore.

She was the hunter.

She had become what they feared.

(Y/N) sat down heavily on the edge of her bed, running a hand over her face. The faint scent of smoke still clung to her fingers, her clothes. She looked down at her hands, staring at them in the dim candlelight. They still held the smallest warmth, a whisper of the magic she had used, a reminder of what she had done.

She clenched her hands into fists, taking a deep breath.

Outside, the bar carried on. Life moved forward, just as it always did.

Silco hadn’t followed her. She was grateful for that. She didn’t want to see the way he looked at her- not with judgment, because he wouldn’t judge her. But maybe with understanding. And that, somehow, was worse.

Because it meant he knew exactly what this felt like.

Downstairs, Silco leaned against the bar, tracing the rim of his glass as Vander and the others waited for him to speak.

“It’s done,” he finally said, his voice even.

Vander exhaled, rubbing his jaw. Benzo gave a small nod, as if he had already expected as much. Felicia shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward the stairs but saying nothing.

No one asked for details. No one needed them.

Silco took a slow sip from his glass, his mind still half elsewhere.

(Y/N) would come to him when she was ready.

Until then, he would wait.

The days blurred together in a haze of smoke and silence.

(Y/N) barely left her room. If she did, it was only for a moment- to grab water, to stare out the window before disappearing again. She barely ate. She barely spoke.

They all tried. Vander knocked first, his voice gentle but firm, asking if she needed anything. She didn’t answer.

Felicia tried next, lingering outside the door, speaking softly, but (Y/N) still said nothing.

Even Benzo made an attempt, though he only sighed when he was met with silence, muttering something about how no one could hide away forever.

Silco was the last to try. He didn’t knock. He simply stood outside her door, silent for a moment, before speaking low enough that only she could hear.

“I’m still here.”

That was all. Then he left.

Still, she didn’t come out.

The bar continued on without her, though an uneasy weight hung over the place. Silco tried to act like it didn’t bother him, but his foot tapped anxiously under the counter, his cigarette burned lower than usual, and the shadows beneath his eyes darkened.

Vander, on the other hand, was dealing with an entirely different shift.

A title had been given to him- The Hound of the Underground.

It spread quickly. People whispered about the job they had pulled, about how the Enforcer captain had vanished without a trace. But more than that, they whispered about Vander.

Vander never wanted to be a leader. That had always seemed more like Silco’s role. But now, people were looking to him- to his strength, to his ability to stand against Piltover’s boot. And, whether he liked it or not, he was stepping into the role.

Silco found it amusing, watching Vander take the spotlight while he worked from the shadows… It had its own benefits.

A new captain had been appointed. A woman named Grayson.

Enforcer patrols had increased tenfold. They were more careful, more disciplined. But they still didn’t have a single lead.

And so, life went on.

For everyone- except (Y/N).

The second week passed, heavy with silence.

But that morning, (Y/N) made a decision.

She rose from bed, the stiffness in her limbs a reminder of how long she had spent lying in one place. The room was dim, the light from the cracked window barely illuminating the space. Slowly, she stepped into the washroom, bracing herself against the sink as she stared into the mirror.

She barely recognized herself.

Her eyes were dull, rimmed with exhaustion. Her skin was more pale, her lips pressed in a thin, tired line. The weight of what she had done clung to her, suffocating, but she wasn’t going to let it keep consuming her.

Not anymore.

(Y/N) opened one of the cabinets, searching until her fingers curled around a pair of old scissors. She exhaled, steadying her grip, and lifted them to her hair.

The first snip was the hardest.

But once she started, she didn’t stop. Strands of hair fell into the sink, a stark contrast against the porcelain, as she cut her way up to her eyes. She let it frame her face, leaving the back a little longer. She had done this before- cut Silco’s hair when they were younger, Vander’s, even Felicia’s once when she had been too impatient to grow it out.

So she wasn’t completely clueless.

She evened out the edges as best as she could, then took a step back to examine herself.

It was different. But maybe different was what she needed.

Once she was done, she swept the fallen hair into a pile, throwing it away before turning toward the bathtub.

She had let herself sit in her own filth for too long.

(Y/N) ran the water hot, stripping off her clothes and stepping in. The heat burned against her skin, but she welcomed it, scrubbing away the grime and sweat that clung to her. Her stitches had healed now- she had torn the thread from her body a few nights prior, biting down on a cloth to muffle the pain.

It was over now.

She let herself sink beneath the water, closing her eyes for a moment before resurfacing.

She was ready.

Ready to move forward.

(Y/N) got dressed, did the routine she had been avoiding for so long, making herself look a bit more presentable. She took a deep breath, before stepping out of her room.

The scent of smoke, cheap liquor, and freshly brewed coffee filled the air as she made her way down the stairs. The usual sounds of the bar hummed softly around her- glasses clinking, quiet conversation, the occasional creak of a chair against the wooden floor.

Vander stood behind the counter, cleaning a glass with slow, methodical movements. Silco sat off to the side, his head bowed over his journal, the tip of his pen scratching against the page. Across the room, Felicia sat with Connol, a cup of coffee in her hands as she spoke with him.

At first, none of them noticed her.

Then Vander looked up, his hands faltering mid-motion. His brows furrowed slightly before his expression softened, a worried but relieved smile tugging at his lips.

Silco, noticing Vander’s pause, raised an eyebrow and followed his gaze. When his eyes landed on (Y/N), his pen stilled. His gaze lingered on her hair, eyes widening just slightly as he took in the change.

Felicia was the last to notice.

Her conversation with Connol cut off as she turned her head, blinking in surprise before realization dawned on her. Without hesitation, she pushed back from her chair and rushed over, her coffee abandoned.

"(Y/N)!"

Before she could react, Felicia grabbed her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

(Y/N) tensed for a second before slowly relaxing into it, exhaling against Felicia’s shoulder.

“You absolute idiot,” Felicia murmured, voice thick with emotion. “You scared the hell out of us.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard, guilt twisting in her gut.

“I know,” she whispered.

Felicia pulled back, placing her hands on (Y/N)’s shoulders as she took a better look at her. “You cut your hair,” she murmured, brushing her fingers lightly against the shorter strands. “It looks good.”

(Y/N) gave a small, tired smile. “Thanks.”

Felicia let out a breath, shaking her head before pulling her in for another quick hug. “Don’t do that again, alright?”

(Y/N) nodded against her shoulder. “I won’t.”

As they stepped apart, (Y/N) glanced over at Vander and Silco.

Vander, still behind the counter, gave her a slow nod, his expression unreadable. “You hungry?” he asked.

(Y/N) hesitated, but after a moment, she nodded. “Yeah.”

Vander’s lips twitched slightly, and without another word, he turned toward the small kitchen in the back.

Silco, still seated, was watching her closely. His expression wasn’t as easy to read as the others. His gaze flickered back to her hair before meeting her eyes.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Silco huffed a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

He tapped his pen against his journal before flipping it shut and standing. “C’mon,” he said, nodding toward the counter. “Sit down. You look like you could use something stronger than coffee.”

(Y/N) let out a soft laugh. “I think I’ve had enough of that for a while.”

Silco smirked. “We’ll see.”

As she moved toward the counter, the weight in her chest didn’t feel as heavy as before. She wasn’t sure if things would ever go back to normal.

But at least she wasn’t alone.

Instead of reaching for a bottle of whiskey like she normally would, (Y/N) leaned over the bar and grabbed a cup, pouring herself some coffee. The warmth seeped into her hands as she brought it to her lips, sipping slowly.

Felicia, still watching her carefully, grabbed Connol’s hand and tugged him along to sit beside her at the bar. Silco settled next to (Y/N), resting his arms on the counter as he watched her with quiet curiosity.

(Y/N) set her cup down and exhaled. “Alright… I’ve been ignoring everything for a while now. Catch me up. What’s been happening?”

Felicia and Connol exchanged a look before Felicia started.

“Well… for one, the Enforcers are crawling all over the place now. They’ve been patrolling constantly since the captain went missing, but no one’s been caught or questioned.” She leaned on the counter, tilting her head. “Oh, and Vander has a new title now.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Silco smirked. “The Hound of the Underground.”

(Y/N) blinked before huffing out a quiet laugh. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Felicia grinned. “You know how people get. Word spreads fast, and apparently, he’s got a whole reputation now. People are looking up to him, seeing him as a leader.”

(Y/N) stole another sip of coffee, glancing over toward Vander, who was still in the back making food. She knew he never intended for something like that to happen, but she also knew he wouldn’t ignore it. He never could.

“And the new Enforcer captain?” she asked.

Connol spoke up for the first time. “A woman named Grayson. Word is, she’s not like the last guy. Doesn’t take bribes as easily. She’s been trying to keep the other Enforcers from acting like power-hungry thugs.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

“Yeah,” Felicia muttered, taking a sip of her coffee. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

As they talked, (Y/N) kept having to tug her shirt back over her shoulder, the fabric slipping more than usual. It wasn’t until Silco’s gaze flickered downward that she realized why.

She had thinned out.

Not drastically, but enough to notice. Two weeks of barely eating had taken its toll. Her sleeves felt looser, her frame not as solid as before.

Silco didn’t say anything, but she caught the way his fingers drummed against the counter, a small furrow forming between his brows.

Felicia noticed too. She didn’t comment, but she shifted closer, nudging (Y/N) lightly.

“Vander’s making you food,” she said, as if reading her thoughts. “You’re eating all of it.”

(Y/N) sighed but didn’t argue. She took another sip of coffee instead, letting the warmth settle in her chest.

It didn’t take Vander long to bring out a plate of food, setting it down in front of (Y/N) with a firm look that told her there was no room for argument. She eyed it for a moment before glancing up at him with a smirk.

“So, ‘Hound of the Underground,’ huh?” she teased, picking up her fork.

Vander groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Don’t start.”

Felicia snickered. “Too late.”

(Y/N) chuckled, shaking her head as she finally took a bite. It felt like forever since she’d eaten something warm, something made with care. Vander watched her for a second, making sure she actually ate before he went back to his work.

She ate slowly, listening as the conversation around her continued.

“So,” Silco said, leaning on the counter beside her, “now that you’re up and about again… what’s next?”

(Y/N) paused mid-bite, mulling over the question. Truthfully, she hadn’t thought that far. She had spent so long locking herself away, suffocating under the weight of her own mind, that she hadn’t considered what came after.

She chewed, swallowed, and exhaled. “I don’t know yet,” she admitted.

Felicia crossed her arms. “Well, you’re not running off on your own, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “Not planning to.”

Silco watched her, fingers tapping lazily against the counter. “Then you stay here. Lay low. Let things settle.”

(Y/N) nodded. “That’s the plan.”

For now.

She took another bite, keeping her gaze lowered as the others continued talking. Despite everything, despite the weight still lingering in her chest, she felt… lighter.

Not fixed.

Not free.

But present.

As she ate, (Y/N) let her thoughts wander. She needed something to keep her occupied- something that wasn’t drinking herself numb or locking herself away again. She needed routine, structure.

The mines.

It was how they had started, how they had kept themselves afloat when things were uncertain. Hard work, exhausting work, but it kept them out of trouble. At least, most of the time.

She could go back to that. Spend her days in the mines, doing honest work, something that would wear her down in a way that wasn’t guilt or self-loathing. And when she wasn’t in the mines… she could train.

Her magic had changed- not a whole lot, but still… It had grown stronger. She needed to harness it, sharpen it like a blade instead of letting it lash out blindly.

She tapped her fingers against the counter, coming to a decision.

"I think I’m gonna start working in the mines again," she said finally.

Silco turned his head toward her, arching a brow. “Really?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’ll keep me busy.” She took another sip of coffee before adding, “And when I’m not working… I’m training.”

Felicia tilted her head. “Training?”

(Y/N) met her gaze. “My magic. I need to be better with it.”

Connol, who had been listening from the other side of the bar, crossed his arms. “Not a bad idea.”

Vander sighed, setting down the glass he’d been cleaning. “Just don’t push yourself too hard.”

(Y/N) offered him a tired smirk. “No promises.”

Silco watched her for a moment, then simply nodded. “I’ll help.”

(Y/N) blinked. “With what?”

“Your training.” He leaned back against the bar, shrugging. “It’s not like you’re going to do it alone, are you?”

Felicia grinned. “Looks like you’ve got a training partner.”

(Y/N) huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. But she didn’t argue.

Maybe this was what she needed. Something to focus on. Something to move forward with.

(Y/N) finished her food, the warmth of it settling in her stomach in a way that made her realize just how much she had missed eating properly. Pushing her plate aside, she picked it up along with her cup and made her way behind the bar, ignoring Vander’s protests as she rinsed them off and started washing them herself.

Silco watched her from where he sat, tapping his fingers idly against his journal. He didn’t say anything, just observing as she methodically cleaned the dishes, her movements steady and purposeful.

Once she was done, she dried her hands on a nearby rag and turned back toward the others. “I’ll start in the mines tomorrow,” she said simply.

Felicia gave her an approving nod. “Good... If it’ll keep you busy.”

(Y/N) hummed in agreement, then glanced at Silco. “And for training… we’ll do it in the deeper parts of the mines. Like we used to when we were younger.”

Silco’s lips twitched into a small smirk. “Sounds like a plan.”

Vander sighed, shaking his head. “Just… be careful, alright?”

(Y/N) smirked. “Always.”

Silco snorted at that, but didn’t comment.

With that settled, (Y/N) let out a slow breath. Tomorrow, things would return to some semblance of normal. Or at least, as normal as life in the Undercity ever got.

(Y/N) spent the rest of the day in the bar, determined not to retreat back into her room. It was harder than she thought it would be- there was still a part of her that wanted to disappear upstairs, to avoid the noise, the stares, the weight of existing among people again. But she pushed through it.

She stayed in her seat at the bar beside Silco, nursing a cup of coffee instead of whiskey. He occasionally glanced up from his journal, giving her a quiet, knowing look, but he didn’t press her. She appreciated that.

Felicia and Connol had stayed close too, the two of them talking about anything and everything, just to keep conversation flowing. (Y/N) listened, interjecting now and then, but mostly just taking in the atmosphere- the smell of smoke, alcohol, and the faintest hint of whatever Vander had cooked earlier still lingering in the air.

Vander busied himself behind the bar, wiping down the counter, filling drinks, and chatting with patrons. Every now and then, he would glance at her, making sure she was still there, still okay.

At some point, Benzo showed up, sliding into the seat beside her and giving her a once-over. “Glad to see you out of that room,” he muttered, his tone gruff but not unkind.

(Y/N) smirked slightly. “Figured it was time.”

Benzo nodded approvingly before ordering a drink.

Hours passed, and she found herself relaxing, just a little. She even played a few rounds of cards with Felicia, Connol, and a few of the regulars. She wasn’t particularly good at it, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that she was here. Present... Trying.

As the night went on, the bar grew livelier, but she remained where she was, refusing to let the old instinct to retreat take over. Silco stayed close, occasionally passing her a cigarette without a word, and Vander made sure she always had something to sip on, whether it was coffee or water.

By the time the night wound down, she felt exhausted, but in a different way than before. This wasn’t the heavy, crushing exhaustion of grief and regret- this was just the tiredness of a long day spent in the company of people she cared about. She had made it through the entire day without retreating, without shutting herself away, but now, she was ready to sleep.

She hesitated for a moment before turning to Silco, who had been silently watching her from his place beside her at the bar. She met his gaze, her voice softer than usual. “…Come up with me?”

For weeks, she had shut herself away, refusing company, refusing comfort. But she missed this- missed the quiet warmth of his presence, missed how easy it was to breathe when he was next to her.

Silco’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he only gave a small nod. “Of course.”

She didn’t say anything else, just turned and made her way toward the stairs, trusting him to follow. She heard his stool scrape against the floor as he stood, his footsteps light behind her as they ascended.

Once inside her room, she exhaled, feeling some of the tension she hadn’t even realized she was holding finally release. She didn’t bother changing out of her clothes- she was too tired for that. Instead, she simply climbed into bed, shifting just enough to make space for him.

Silco settled in beside her without hesitation. It was familiar, easy. He didn’t say anything- he didn’t need to. Instead, he reached out, gently pulling her closer. She let him.

As they lay in the quiet of her room, tangled together in the dim neon lights filtering through the cracks in the curtains, Silco let out a slow breath. His arms were wrapped securely around her, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns along her back. It had been so long since he had held her like this, and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to let go.

“You worried me,” he murmured after a long stretch of silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

(Y/N) didn’t respond right away, just curled in a little closer, pressing her forehead against his. He felt her tense slightly, like she was debating whether or not to respond.

Silco didn’t push, not yet. He just kept holding her, patient as ever.

After what felt like forever, she finally spoke, her voice quiet, hesitant. “…I felt like I became everything I was afraid of.”

His brows furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt. He let her speak.

“I justified everything they did to my people. I became the reason they hunt us down. The reason they fear us. I- I killed without hesitation, without remorse, because I thought it was what needed to be done.” She exhaled shakily. “And then I locked myself away because I didn’t know how to live with it.”

Silco’s grip on her tightened slightly, but he still said nothing, waiting to make sure she had gotten everything out.

“I felt disgusting,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper now. “Like I was drowning in what I’d done.”

Silco let out a slow, measured breath before he finally spoke. “You did what you had to.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Did I?”

He stared directly into her eyes, refusing to pull away from her gaze, his hands coming up to cradle her face. “Yes,” he said firmly, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. “You survived. You protected yourself, protected all of us. That was never wrong.”

Her eyes searched his, uncertain. “Then why do I feel like it was?”

Silco didn’t have a perfect answer. He couldn’t magically take away what she felt, couldn’t erase the weight she carried. But he could remind her of the truth.

“Because you still have a heart,” he murmured, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Because you aren’t like them.”

She let out a shaky breath, eyes slipping shut as she let herself relax against him.

Silco held her closer, his lips brushing against her temple. “You are not a monster, (Y/N). You never were.”

She didn’t respond, but the way she clung to him a little tighter told him enough.

He would remind her every day if he had to. Because he loved her. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

As the night stretched on, the warmth between them remained steady. Silco kept his arms wrapped securely around her, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing against his chest. Every now and then, he would press a slow, reassuring kiss against the top of her head, letting her know without words that she was safe, that she was not alone.

Slowly, her grip on him tightened, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as though afraid he would slip away. Even in sleep, she sought him out. Silco only held her closer in response, his fingers idly tracing along her back in a slow, comforting rhythm.

For the first time in weeks, her sleep was peaceful- no restlessness, no muttered words under her breath, no sudden jolts awake. Just warmth and quiet.

And, for the first time in weeks, Silco allowed himself to relax.

It didn’t take long before his own eyes drifted shut, and he finally followed her into sleep.

The morning came gently. A dim light filtered in through the cracks in the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The warmth from the night before remained, (Y/N) still clinging tightly to Silco in her sleep, her face nestled against his chest.

Silco woke first. His mind was slow to shake off the haze of sleep, but he didn’t move- he just lay there, watching her.

She looked peaceful. A stark contrast to the last two weeks of sleepless nights and empty stares.

His fingers instinctively threaded through her short hair, brushing through the strands with deliberate, careful movements. It was still strange to see her like this, but not in a bad way.

She shifted slightly at his touch, letting out a quiet breath but not waking up just yet.

Silco only continued his slow movements, watching the way the soft morning light illuminated her features.

Eventually, (Y/N)’s eyes slowly opened, only to be met with Silco’s soft, tired gaze. She gave him a tired smile, before nuzzling into the crook of his neck, her grip on him tightening.

Just her... Just him.

No weight of the past dragging them both down.

As they both hesitantly pulled themselves from the warmth of the bed, (Y/N) stretched her limbs, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before making her way to the small dresser in the room. She sifted through her clothes, pulling out a worn but sturdy set of work clothes suitable for the mines.

Silco lingered for a moment, watching her silently before exhaling through his nose and heading toward the door. “I’ll be downstairs,” he murmured, giving her one last glance before slipping out of the room.

As he descended the stairs into the bar, the familiar scent of smoke and stale liquor filled the air. It was still early, meaning most of their usual patrons weren’t around just yet. Vander was already behind the counter, cleaning up from the night before.

Silco approached him, leaning casually against the bar. “Make her something to eat?” he said, voice low but firm.

Vander glanced up from the glass he was drying, raising an eyebrow. “She ask for something?”

Silco shook his head. “No. But she needs to eat before heading into the mines.”

Vander studied him for a moment before sighing, setting the glass aside. “Yeah, alright. I’ll get something together for her.” He didn’t argue- it was clear Silco was worried, and truthfully, so was he.

Silco gave a small nod of thanks before moving to his usual seat near the bar, pulling out his journal. He tapped a cigarette from his case but didn’t light it just yet, glancing toward the stairs every now and then, waiting for (Y/N) to come down.

(Y/N) came down the stairs, still adjusting her sleeves as she walked over to the bar. Her steps were slow, weighed down by lingering exhaustion, but she was determined to push through it. Spotting Silco in his usual seat, she made her way over, sinking into the spot beside him.

She let out a quiet yawn before slumping forward, draping herself over Silco without a second thought. “Gotta get used to getting up early again…” she mumbled, voice still heavy with sleep. “Bet the first week of working again is gonna be hell.”

Silco huffed in amusement but didn’t push her away. Instead, he let her rest against him, his hand absentmindedly trailing over the back of hers where it rested on the counter.

Vander, who had just set a plate of food down in front of her, smirked at the sight but didn’t say anything.

Felicia, however, was a different story. She leaned forward, her mug of coffee cradled between her hands as she raised an eyebrow at the two of them. “Are uh… you two..?”

(Y/N) stiffened slightly, her face warming, but she didn’t move away. Silco, on the other hand, just exhaled through his nose, his lips curving into the barest hint of a smirk.

“You make it sound like a dramatic revelation,” he murmured, taking a slow sip from his own cup.

Felicia snorted, giving Connol a knowing look. “I mean, considering how long you two have been dancing around each other, yeah, I’d say it is.”

(Y/N) groaned, pressing her forehead against Silco’s shoulder to hide her face. “Not even five minutes into the day, and you’re already fucking with me…”

Felicia just grinned. “You make it too easy.”

Silco nudged her slightly, motioning toward the plate Vander had set in front of her. It was a silent order, one she knew better than to argue against. With a quiet sigh, she sat up properly and picked up her fork, beginning to eat.

Felicia, still grinning, watched the two of them with amusement. They hadn’t made anything official, hadn’t spoken any words to define what they were, but the fact that Silco hadn’t denied her accusation made it clear where he stood.

As (Y/N) ate, Silco resumed writing in his journal, though his free hand remained close to hers on the counter. Every so often, his fingers would brush against hers, a subtle reassurance that she wasn’t alone.

Once she finished, she reached for her plate, intending to wash it, but Felicia was faster. With a smug smirk, she snatched it up before (Y/N) could protest. “Nope. You’ve got work to get to. I’ll take care of this.”

Shaking her head in amusement, (Y/N) slid off her seat and dusted off her pants. She glanced at Silco, hesitating for just a moment before leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

His fingers twitched slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he simply turned his head enough to meet her gaze, his eyes calm but unreadable.

Before the others could tease her further, she quickly turned on her heel and made her way toward the door. “I’ll be back later,” she called over her shoulder before heading out, making her way toward the mines.

The Undercity was restless. The increased Enforcer presence was obvious- pairs of them stalked the streets, watching, searching. They knew nothing about her, nothing about what had happened. And yet, every time she saw their armor glinting in the dim light, her stomach twisted with guilt. She kept to the shadows, choosing the quieter routes, the paths less patrolled.

By the time she reached the mines, her chest felt lighter, though her thoughts still clung to her like grime after a long shift. She slipped through the entrance, moving past the few workers already getting to it, and headed straight down to the small office they all used.

The room was the same as always- dusty, cluttered, smelling of sweat and metal. She made her way to her usual spot, placing her things down and rolling her shoulders. It had been a while since she’d worked, and she knew today was going to be rough. But that was the point, wasn’t it? To throw herself into something, to stay busy, to not think.

With that thought in mind, she grabbed her gloves, pulled them on tight, and headed out into the tunnels. Work waited, and she was ready for it.

The day was grueling. Each swing of the pickaxe sent a jolt through her arms, each lift of a crate strained muscles she hadn’t used in weeks. The sweat clung to her skin, her breath heavy from exertion, but she didn’t stop. She pushed through the exhaustion, through the aching burn in her limbs, through the thoughts clawing at the back of her mind.

By the time her shift was over, she felt like she could collapse where she stood. Instead, she grabbed a cigarette from her pocket and stepped outside, lighting it with slightly unsteady hands. She inhaled deeply, letting the nicotine calm her frayed nerves as she leaned against the wall of the office.

After a few minutes, she flicked the half-finished cigarette to the ground, crushing it under her boot before turning on her heel. She had something else to do now- something she hadn’t done in a long time.

She needed to get Silco.

Pushing through her exhaustion, she made her way back to the bar, slipping through the bustling streets, dodging Enforcers when needed. By the time she stepped inside, she was already searching for him. And when her eyes landed on him, sitting in his usual spot with his journal, she exhaled softly and approached.

“Come on,” she muttered, nudging his arm. “We’re training.”

Silco glanced up from his journal, eyes flicking over her appearance. She was still drenched in sweat, streaked with soot, her hair clinging to her skin in places. He could see the exhaustion in the slight slump of her shoulders, but she was determined- he knew better than to try and talk her out of it.

He sighed, closing his journal with a soft thud. “You really sure you want to?” he muttered, standing up.

She shrugged. “Just wanna get it over with.”

Without another word, she turned and started for the door, not bothering to check if he was following. Of course, he was.

The walk back to the mines was quiet, aside from the occasional scrape of her boot against the cobbled streets or the distant murmur of Undercity life around them. Silco didn’t press her to talk. He just walked beside her, hands tucked into his coat pockets, his mind already shifting toward their training.

When they reached the entrance to the mines, she led them deeper, past the active work areas, further into the tunnels they had used before. It was quiet here, the only sound being the occasional drip of water from the ceiling and the faint hum of machinery further in the distance.

She finally stopped, rolling her shoulders and shaking out her hands. “Alright,” she said, exhaling slowly. “Let’s get started.”

She rolled up her sleeves, letting the cool underground air brush against her arms. The soot clinging to her skin didn’t matter- she was too focused on the task at hand. The memory of what she had done two weeks ago lingered in her mind, the way the magic had responded without her even reaching out for it. It had felt different, raw, instinctive. She needed to understand it, to control it.

Reaching up, she unhooked one of the lanterns from the wall, the flame flickering in its glass casing. With a deep breath, she snuffed it out, plunging the space into deeper shadow. The faint glow from the tunnels behind them was enough to see, but here, in the quiet, it felt like she was wrapped in darkness.

She lowered the lantern to the ground and sat next to it, crossing her legs as she exhaled slowly. Silco leaned against the rock wall nearby, watching her intently but saying nothing. He knew better than to interrupt.

Closing her eyes, she reached inward, searching for the pulse of magic that had always been there. Normally, she used her hands, guiding the flow of energy outward like she had taught herself to do long ago. But now… now she wanted to pull from something deeper.

The flame had to return. She just needed to make it happen.

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself as she focused on the golden energy flowing through her veins. It was always there, thrumming beneath the surface, waiting to be called upon. Her fingers twitched, the instinct to reach out nearly overpowering- but she resisted. This time, she needed to let the magic move on its own.

Her breath slowed. The world around her faded away.

A familiar warmth coiled in her chest, spreading outward like sunlight breaking through thick storm clouds. Her eyes fluttered open, now glowing a brilliant gold in the dim underground. The energy pulsed, shifting through her like a heartbeat.

Then, the lantern flickered.

At first, just a spark, weak and fleeting. But then, as she exhaled, willing the magic forward, the flame roared to life, golden and warm, casting long shadows against the rock walls.

Silco watched in quiet awe, his sharp eyes reflecting the light as he studied her. She had done it- without her hands, without a gesture. Just raw, unfiltered power.

The lantern burned steadily, proof that she was growing stronger.

She kept her breathing steady, feeling the warmth of the golden flame as it flickered in front of her. Now that it was lit, the real challenge began- controlling it without any physical movement, relying only on her awareness of the power coursing through her.

She focused, letting herself feel the energy, the way it pulsed in time with her heartbeat. Slowly, she tried to pull back, easing her magic just slightly. The flame responded, shrinking down to a faint ember.

...Good...

Now, she pushed forward, letting a bit more power flow through her. The lantern’s flame grew, dancing with intensity, casting brighter light onto the cavern walls.

She repeated the process- pulling back, pushing forward- adjusting the flame’s size with nothing but her focus. Her hands remained still in her lap, but her eyes glowed as she carefully controlled each shift in power.

Silco stayed quiet beside her, watching intently. He knew this was important for her, a way to regain control after everything that had happened. And from what he could see, she was already getting stronger.

As the golden glow of the flame flickered one last time under her control, (Y/N) exhaled deeply, feeling exhaustion settle into her bones. She had been at this for hours, and while she had made progress, it took everything in her to maintain that level of concentration.

Silco watched as the light in her eyes dimmed, returning to normal as she let go of her magic. He could tell she was worn out, her shoulders slumping slightly as she sat back on her hands.

"That's enough for today," he finally said, standing up and offering her a hand. "You're going to pass out if you push yourself any further."

(Y/N) let out a tired chuckle before grabbing his hand, allowing him to pull her up. "Yeah... I think I’ve had enough of this for one night."

They started making their way back through the mines, the cool underground air a stark contrast to the heat she had been working with. It was quiet between them, but not uncomfortably so. (Y/N) leaned into Silco just slightly as they walked, her exhaustion making her movements sluggish.

By the time they reached the bar, the usual nighttime crowd was already in full swing. Laughter and the clinking of glasses filled the air, the atmosphere lively as people drank away the weight of their own struggles.

(Y/N) barely paid attention as she shoved through the people in her way, making a beeline for the stairs. She was ready for sleep- more than ready.

Silco followed close behind, ensuring she made it upstairs without incident. As she stepped into her room, she glanced back at him, hesitating for a moment before mumbling, "You coming?"

Silco smirked, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. "You don’t have to ask."

(Y/N) sighed as she stretched her sore muscles, peeling off her sooty work clothes before heading straight for the washroom. The warm water helped ease the ache in her limbs, washing away the grime from the mines and the lingering warmth of her magic. She took her time, letting the steam relax her before finally stepping out, drying off, and slipping into something comfortable.

When she emerged, Silco was already waiting for her, sitting on the edge of her bed, one leg crossed over the other. His sharp eyes followed her as she slumped into the chair by her desk, exhaling tiredly.

Without a word, he pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a practiced flick. He took a slow drag before holding it out toward her. She hesitated only for a moment before leaning forward, taking it between her fingers and inhaling deeply.

They passed it back and forth in silence, the air between them thick with smoke and quiet understanding. Neither of them needed to speak- this was enough. A moment of peace after everything.

As the cigarette burned down to its final embers, (Y/N) let out a slow sigh, her body finally surrendering to exhaustion. Without a word, she pushed herself up from the chair and made her way to the bed, slipping beneath the blankets. Silco followed shortly after, settling in beside her. They didn’t need to say anything- this had become their routine. She pressed herself close to him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, his breath warm against her hair as they both drifted off into sleep.

The next few weeks followed the same steady rhythm. (Y/N) would wake early, get ready, and head to the mines to work through the day. She pushed through the exhaustion, the sweat, the grime- anything to keep herself busy. After work, she’d find Silco, and the two of them would slip away into the depths of the mines to train.

She was getting better. At first, controlling the flame without physical gestures had been difficult, but with each session, she grew more confident. She learned to summon her fire at will, to adjust its intensity, and even to move it with nothing but her focus. Silco watched her progress with a quiet intensity, pushing her to go further while always making sure she didn’t push herself too hard.

Meanwhile, the tensions with the Enforcers and Mageseekers slowly faded. The increased patrols had begun to die down, and soon, it was as if everything had returned to normal- or as normal as life in the Undercity could be. The bar was always busy, Felicia and Connol were around often, and Vander continued to build his reputation among the people. Even (Y/N) found herself slipping back into the flow of things, the weight on her chest just a little lighter than before.

The warmth of the bar wrapped around them like an old, familiar embrace. The scent of stew, smoke, and aged whiskey lingered in the air, a comforting mix that felt like home. (Y/N) leaned against the bar, her body still aching from training, but the fatigue was drowned out by the simple pleasure of just being there- just being with them.

Vander, ever the host, tossed a bar towel over his shoulder and leaned against the counter, his sharp eyes sweeping over the three of them. “If you’re all gonna sit there, at least have a drink with me. Feels like it’s been a while since we just sat and talked.”

(Y/N) flicked the last of her cigarette into the ashtray and smirked. “Fine. But you’re taking care of the next round.”

Vander let out a hearty chuckle, shaking his head as he reached for a bottle. “When do I not take care of the rounds?”

For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no tension hanging over them. No talk of Enforcers. No whispers of Mageseekers. Just them, drinks in hand, laughter lingering in the air like an old song.

Then, Felicia got that glint in her eye- the one that spelled trouble.

“Oh no,” (Y/N) muttered, already knowing she was about to regret whatever was coming next.

Felicia slammed her hands on the bar, grinning wide. “You-” she jabbed a finger at (Y/N) “-are coming with me.”

(Y/N) barely had time to react before Felicia grabbed her wrist, yanking her toward the open space near the jukebox.

“Fel- no, wait-”

“Shut up and move,” Felicia shot back, already pulling (Y/N) into the rhythm as the music played.

(Y/N) huffed, but the smirk on her face gave her away. She let herself be dragged into the dance, following Felicia’s lead as the beat pulsed around them. The tension that had been weighing her down for weeks melted away, bit by bit, as they moved. Felicia twirled, laughing, and soon enough, (Y/N) found herself laughing too.

From the bar, Vander and Silco watched the scene unfold with varying levels of amusement.

Vander leaned back with a chuckle, arms crossed. “Didn’t think she’d actually go along with it.”

Silco swirled his drink, smirking. “Oh, she’s got a soft spot for Fel, no doubt about it.”

Vander snorted. “We all do.”

Felicia spun (Y/N) one last time before pulling her into a breathless hug. “See? Told you it wouldn’t kill you.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, catching her breath. “Nearly did.”

As they made their way back to the bar, Felicia flopped down first, resting her head on her arms. She glanced between them- Vander, Silco, and (Y/N)- before grinning.

Vander set drinks down in front of them, shaking his head. “What’s the occasion?”

Felicia hummed dramatically, waving a hand lazily. “Can’t a lady just be in the mood to dance with her friend to a familiar song?”

Vander raised a brow. “Not this lady. And not that song.”

Felicia smirked but then softened, leaning on her arms. “Tonight feels perfect… The bar is going good, we haven’t had any trouble in a while, Enforcers are backing off… Who would have thought a few harebrained schemes cooked up by the three of you bozos could turn a dank crack in the earth into a thriving, healthy community… Almost too good to be true.”

Vander let out a quiet laugh, glancing at Silco. “You hear that, Bozo Two? We made it. We’re done.”

Silco tilted his head, giving Vander a small smirk. “Oh, you’re sadly mistaken.” He let his gaze drift toward (Y/N). “I’m Bozo One.”

Vander barked out a laugh. “You said that real quick, like you’ve been waiting your whole life for the title.”

Silco took a slow sip of his drink, completely unfazed. “It’s about time I got the recognition I deserve.”

Felicia cackled, leaning against (Y/N), who shook her head with an amused smirk.

“Then what’s that make me?” (Y/N) asked, raising a brow.

“Bozo Two, obviously,” Felicia said without hesitation. “And Vander’s Bozo Three, because he’s too responsible to be anything else.”

Vander sighed dramatically. “Damn. Stuck with you lot, huh?”

Felicia smirked. “Forever, big guy.”

The four of them sat there, savoring the rare moment of peace, the laughter lingering in the air like an old memory.

But something was off.

Felicia, as usual, had a drink in front of her- but tonight, she hadn’t touched it. Not even once.

(Y/N) leaned her arms against the bar, watching her closely. It wasn’t just the drink. It was the way Felicia held it, fingers barely curled around the rim, as if she didn’t even realize it was there.

“You good?” (Y/N) asked, raising an eyebrow as she took a slow drag from her cigarette.

Felicia snapped out of whatever thoughts had been eating at her, blinking once before glancing toward Silco and Vander. Her fingers tapped against the glass once, twice, before she exhaled sharply and muttered, “Shit.”

Silco’s gaze flicked up from his drink, eyes narrowing slightly. “That bad?”

Felicia let out a humorless chuckle. “Depends on how you look at it,” she muttered, running a hand down her face.

Vander, finally catching onto the shift in the air, leaned against the bar in front of Felicia. His expression softened, concern knitting his brows together. “Alright. Out with it. What’s going on?”

Felicia hesitated. She looked at each of them- Vander, Silco, (Y/N)- before finally sighing.

“I’m knocked up.” She swallowed. “A girl.”

...Silence...

Vander’s eyes widened slightly, but his face remained unreadable. Then, without a word, he reached over, plucked her drink from her hands, and swapped it out with a glass of juice.

Silco, for once, didn’t have anything clever to say. He just blinked, as if waiting for the punchline.

(Y/N) exhaled a slow stream of smoke, tilting her head. “...How do you know?”

Felicia hesitated before answering, rubbing at her temple. “Wasn’t really part of my plan…” she admitted. “But, guess that’s everything when you’re living week to week.”

(Y/N) flicked her cigarette into the ashtray, eyes still studying her. “So… what did Connol say?”

Felicia let out a breath of laughter- small, tired. “Haven’t told him yet. Working up the nerve…” Her fingers drummed absently against the bar. “I don’t know anything about kids- I get sweaty being alone with one.”

Vander reached over, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” he said, voice steady, “you’re gonna be a great mother.”

Felicia let out an exhausted laugh, shaking her head as she brushed his hand off. “Shut up… I’m not ready for that.” She sighed, stirring her straw in her untouched drink. “I started trying to come up with a name, and it hit me- this one word is a decision she’s gonna live with her whole life…”

She paused, inhaling deeply before looking at them again. “I can’t protect her from all the shit down here and work out how to be a parent at the same time… Then I realized-” she gave them a small, knowing smile “-I don’t have to.”

(Y/N) hummed, leaning her head against Felicia’s shoulder. “Hmm? Why’s that?”

Felicia smirked. “Because the second I told you, I put you on the hook.”

Vander chuckled.

Felicia didn’t hesitate to continue, looking between them. “You’re not allowed to fail anymore. For her- for me.”

Silco smirked, swirling the last of his drink in his glass. “What’s the point of all this if we can’t raise an ankle biter or two?”

Vander huffed a quiet laugh and lifted his glass. “To Zaun, then.”

They clinked their drinks together.

(Y/N) smirked. “Blisters and bedrock.”

The others echoed the words, their voices carrying softly through the bar.

Vander broke the silence with a thoughtful chuckle. “I’ve always liked the name Violet.”

Felicia laughed softly, something warm settling in her chest. “Guess that’s what it’ll have to be, then, huh?”

The night stretched on, the weight of Felicia’s news lingering in the space she left behind.

Felicia stretched as she stood, smoothing down her shirt with a satisfied sigh. “Well, boys, (Y/N), I think it’s about time I go break the news to Connol.” She grinned, though the flicker of nervous energy behind it didn’t go unnoticed.

Vander gave her a reassuring nod. “You got this, Fel.”

Silco smirked, swirling the last of his drink lazily before taking a sip. “If he’s got half a brain, he’ll be over the moon.”

Felicia huffed out a laugh. “Let’s hope.” She glanced at (Y/N), giving her a light nudge. “And don’t let these two get into any trouble while I’m away.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, smirking. “No promises.”

With that, Felicia gave them all one last grin before heading for the door, disappearing into the Undercity night.

That left just the three of them.

The bar was officially closing for the night- chairs stacked on tables, lanterns dimmed, the lively hum of the evening now faded into something softer. The only sounds were the faint echoes of Zaun outside, the distant drip of condensation from the pipes, and the quiet clink of glasses being put away.

(Y/N) leaned back against the booth, drink in hand, as Vander and Silco sat across from her. For a while, none of them spoke. They just sat in easy quiet, letting the weight of everything settle.

Eventually, Vander exhaled deeply, breaking the silence. “Crazy, huh? Feels like just yesterday we were a bunch of reckless kids, and now… a baby.”

Silco scoffed lightly. “Speak for yourself. Some of us are still reckless.”

(Y/N) chuckled into her drink. “Recklessness is a sign of maturity now?”

Silco arched a brow. “Please, I was always the mature one... So of course”

Vander let out a deep laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, that’s rich.”

(Y/N) smirked. “You're just mad Fel called us Bozos.”

Silco took another slow sip of his drink before answering, deadpan, “I earned that title.”

That got a real laugh out of both Vander and (Y/N), the sound of it echoing softly in the near-empty bar.

They stayed like that for a while- drinking, reminiscing, letting the night stretch on. The quiet between them wasn’t heavy, just comfortable. A reminder that, despite everything, they were still here.

Eventually, exhaustion settled in alongside the alcohol, and they made their way upstairs. Vander turned down the hall to his own room with a murmured goodnight, leaving just (Y/N) and Silco lingering at the top of the stairs.

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before reaching out, fingers brushing against Silco’s. It wasn’t much- just a small, soft touch- but he noticed. He always noticed.

Silco glanced down at their hands before meeting her gaze. His expression was unreadable, but he didn’t pull away.

He let her guide him as she turned, leading him toward her room.

Neither of them spoke as she pushed the door open, stepping inside with him close behind. The familiar space was dimly lit by the streetlights outside, casting long shadows across the walls.

(Y/N) exhaled softly, finally releasing his hand as she ran a hand through her hair.

They didn’t need words. They never really did.

As they lay together, the quiet wrapping around them like a second skin, Silco absently traced patterns along (Y/N)’s back. She was curled up against him, her head resting against his chest, her body still carrying the weight of exhaustion no matter how much she tried to hide it.

Neither of them acknowledged the way they clung to each other.

They just let sleep take them- like most nights.

The dim light of early morning seeped through the cracks in the blinds, casting faint streaks across the worn wooden floor. The air was thick with lingering warmth, the kind that settled into the bones and refused to leave.

(Y/N) slowly blinked awake, her body still heavy with exhaustion. But it wasn’t the usual, aching kind. This was different. This was… grounding. Comforting.

The steady rise and fall of Silco’s chest beneath her cheek, the way his arm was slung around her waist, keeping her close- it was all grounding.

She shifted slightly, testing the space between them, only for Silco’s grip to tighten instinctively, pulling her right back against him.

Still half-asleep, his breathing was slow and steady, fingers twitching slightly against the small of her back.

She tilted her head up slightly, peering at Silco’s face. He looked… calm. Peaceful.

The sharp lines of his face were softened by sleep, his usually narrowed eyes still closed, and for once, there was no tension in his expression.

She smirked slightly. “Didn’t take you for a clingy sleeper,” she murmured, voice still hoarse from sleep.

Silco hummed but didn’t open his eyes. “Didn’t take you for someone who would complain about it,” he shot back, his voice low and rough with sleep.

(Y/N) chuckled, shaking her head before pressing her forehead against his chest. “I’m not.”

Silco let out a quiet breath, finally cracking one eye open to glance down at her. “…You sleep okay?”

(Y/N) thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I did… I like sleeping with you.”

Silco studied her for a second before simply pulling her back down against him. “Good,” he murmured. “Then we’re staying like this a little longer.”

(Y/N) didn’t argue.

She let herself sink back into him, the steady beat of his heart under her ear lulling her into something dangerously close to sleep.

But eventually… they had to get up.

As they got dressed, Silco couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself.

Every time (Y/N) turned around, he was there- fingers brushing over her arm, his palm pressing against the small of her back, lips ghosting over her shoulder as she adjusted her shirt.

She smirked, glancing at him over her shoulder. “You’re being needy,” she teased.

Silco, utterly unapologetic, hummed as he slid his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her against him. “And?” he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to the side of her neck.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but she didn’t push him away.

“And if we don’t get moving, Vander’s gonna come knocking, and I don’t think you want him barging in here.”

Silco huffed against her skin, but didn’t immediately let go. Instead, he turned her around in his arms, leaning in to kiss her properly- slow and deep, fingers tangling in her hair.

By the time he pulled back, (Y/N) was breathless, her grip tightening on his shirt.

“…You’re trying to distract me,” she accused.

Silco smirked. “Is it working?”

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes at him before shoving his chest lightly. “Come on, we’ve got things to do.”

Silco sighed dramatically but finally relented, letting her step away- though not before sneaking in one last kiss to her temple.

“Fine,” he murmured. “But don’t think for a second that I’m done with you.”

(Y/N) shook her head with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

With that, they finally headed downstairs, ready to face the day- though Silco still kept a hand on her, like he wasn’t quite willing to let go just yet.

As they stepped into the main area of the bar, (Y/N) felt the weight of Silco’s hand on the small of her back- a constant, grounding presence. His touch was deliberate, fingers lingering against her skin as he guided her through the space.

Felicia, already at the bar, raised an eyebrow as she caught sight of them.

“Well, well,” she mused, arms crossed. “This is becoming sort of a habit for you two, huh?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, playing it off, but Silco only smirked, making no effort to move his hand.

Vander, standing behind the counter, shot them both a knowing look before shaking his head with a chuckle. “You two finally gonna admit whatever this is?”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to respond, but Silco beat her to it.

“We don’t owe anyone an explanation,” he said smoothly, though his fingers absentmindedly traced circles against (Y/N)’s hip.

Felicia snorted. “That’s a fancy way of saying you haven’t figured it out yet.”

(Y/N) took a sip of the drink Vander had just placed in front of her, choosing to ignore the heat creeping up her neck. Because, in truth, they hadn’t talked about it- not really.

What they were. What they meant to each other.

Sure, they had exchanged “I love you’s,” but they had never exactly labeled anything.

But as Silco’s grip subtly tightened, as if silently telling her he wasn’t going anywhere, (Y/N) realized that maybe… they didn’t need to define it. Not yet.

She had just lit her cigarette when, without missing a beat, Silco plucked it from her fingers and took a slow drag, smirking as he exhaled the smoke.

She shot him an unimpressed look. “Really?”

He gave a lazy shrug. “You’ll live.”

Rather than argue, she just leaned against him, reaching up to take it back- but instead of fighting her on it, Silco simply held it between them, offering it up for her to share.

Felicia, watching the exchange, shook her head with a grin. “You two are somethin’ else.”

Vander chuckled, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. “Alright, enough of that. How’d Connol take the news?”

Felicia sighed, running a hand through her hair before grabbing a glass. “Better than I thought, honestly. He panicked, sure, but not in a bad way. Just- y’know. Like holy shit, this is real kind of panic.” She took a sip of water, shrugging. “But after that, he just held me. Told me we’d figure it out.”

Vander nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. “Good man.”

Silco, exhaling another stream of smoke before passing the cig back to (Y/N), raised a brow. “You think he’s actually ready?”

Felicia huffed a laugh. “Hell no. But neither am I.” She drummed her fingers against the counter. “But we’ll get there... Eventually.”

(Y/N), taking another drag, studied her friend for a moment before smirking. “You know this means we’re gonna be uncles and an aunt, right?”

Felicia snorted. “Oh, fuck. You three? As family?” She groaned dramatically. “I might’ve made a mistake.”

They all laughed, but (Y/N) could see it- the way Felicia’s shoulders weren’t as tense anymore.

She was nervous, but knowing they had her back? That made all the difference.

you write for helluva boss?

Yes, I do, @ultimategraffitiguy. I added it to my last of fandoms :}

ׄ 𓈒 ❤︎ 𓈒 ׄ ~~ Masterlist ~~ ׄ 𓈒 ❤︎ 𓈒 ׄ

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Requests are open! ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

Feel free to use my ask box to request anything, within reason. I am open to adding more fandoms to my list, but only if I've interacted with them, and know the lore of what I am writing is. I am also willing to add more things to the list of stuff I'm willing to write, depending on what is requested. I do not do Art requests, but I am thinking about doing commissions, eventually.

Art posts! ٩(ˊᗜˋ )و

-Older pieces

-Mostly unfinished pieces

-Profile pic redraw

Things I will write ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

One shots

Fluff

Angst

Smut (assume characters involved in mature content are of age, obviously. Also, I don't normally just do smut for smut, I have to have some sort of plot device to keep the story moving.)

Full works

Headcannons

Multi-parts

Things I wont write (·•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ )

Any type of noncon

Incest

Anything mature involving anyone Underage

Literally anything involving the character Aoi Asahina. (I was threatened, and I do not wish to deal with that shit, at all. Any and all characters I think will put me in danger, expect them to be put on this list.)

Finished Fic's ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

-Ember in the Dark: Young!Silco x Fem!Reader (Full Work)

Oneshots ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜

-Locked Tight: Yasuhiro Hagakure feat. Kiyotata Ishamaru (Smut) (Requested)

-Trust Fall Trauma: Sinner!Amity Blight x Hazbin Hotel. (Requested)

Part.1

Part.2

-Hellbound: The Owl House x Hazbin Hotel AU (Requested)

-Where the Hurt Doesn’t Reach: Multifandom x Reader (Requested)

Part.1 (Peko, Mikan, and Tenko x Male!Reader)

Part.2 (Sayaka, Celestia, and Sonia x Male!Reader)

Part.3 (Charlie, Emily, and Verosika x Male!Reader)

Part.4 (Mahiru, Toko/Genocide Jack, and Maki x Female!Reader)

Part.5 (Kyoko, Kaede, and Miu x Male!Reader)

Part.6 (Chiaki, Akane and Junko x Male!Reader)

-Terrible Prank- Better Apology: Demon Slayer x Fem!Reader (Requested)

Part.1 (Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Nezuko, and Genya)

-Ashes of Grace: Sera x Overlord!Male!Reader (Requested)

-Stronger than Chains: Mondo Owada (Requested)

-You Can Be Weak With Me: Inosuke x GN!Reader (Requested)

-Feral Loyalty: Verosika x Fem!Reader (Requested)

Headcanons ＼(^o^)／

-Journey into Intimacy: First time Danganronpa Headcanons (Smut) (Requested)

Part.1 (Mahiru and Kaede)

Part.2 (Kyoko, Celeste, and Toko/Genocide Jack)

-The Softest Spotlight: Sayaka x GN!Reader Fluff Headcannons

-A Little Too Close: Shuichi x GN!Reader Headcannons (Reqested)

-Carnival Hearts: Demon Slayer x Fem!Black!Reader Headcannons (Reqested)

Part.1 (Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Nezuko, and Genya)

-All of Me, All of You: Demon Slayer x GN!Black!Reader

Part.1 (Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Nezuko, and Genya)

-Mine, Loud and Clear: Verosika x Male!Reader (Requested)

-Melt for Me: Sub!Makoto Naegi x Male!Reader (Smut) (Requested)

-Soft Places to Fall: Genya x GN!Reader (Requested)

-Raised by the End of the World: Older-Sister!Reader x The Walking Dead (Requested)

Full works ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

-Ember in the Dark: Young!Silco x Fem!Reader

Part.1

Part.2

Part.3

Part.4

Part.5

Part.6

Part.7

Part.8

Part. 9

Part.10

Part.11 (Last Part)

-Loyalty Cuts Deepest: Silco x Fem!Reader

Part.1

Part.2

-Drifting Between Worlds: Hunter x Fem!Reader (Requested)

Part.1

Part.2

Different Fandoms I am willing to write for! ♡꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱

Arcane

Attack on Titan

Avatar the Last Air Bender

Adventure Time

Black Butler

Baldur's Gate 3

Creepypasta

DC universe

Death Note

Danganronpa

Detroit: Become Human

Demon Slayer

Hazbin Hotel

Helluva Boss

Homestuck

Marvel

My Hero Acedemia

Naruto

Peaky Blinders

Red Dead Redemption 2

Supernatural

Stranger Things

Sally Face

Soul Eater

Steven Universe

The Owl House

The Walking Dead

The Last of Us

Undertale

Drifting Between Worlds pt.2

Hunter x Fem!Reader

pt.1

Warnings: Emotional Abuse/Psychological Manipulation, Panic Attack/Anxiety, Helplessness/Powerlessness, Capital Punishment, Gaslighting.

Word Count: 5579

Summary: After a quiet moment, (Y/N) tends to Hunter’s scar, showing the deep bond they’ve built over two years of protecting each other. That night, Hunter has a panic attack from memories of Belos’s abuse, and (Y/N) comforts him. Their peace ends with a summons from Belos. Hunter is promoted to Golden Guard, and (Y/N) becomes his Onyx- his personal shadow. Framed as a reward, it’s clearly a way to control them. Their mission: observe Lilith’s attempt to capture Eda and monitor a human girl named Luz. During a student tour, (Y/N) notices Luz sneaking off and convinces Hunter to follow instead of reporting her. They witness Lilith capture Luz. Eda storms the castle to save her, losing her magic in the process and getting captured. Kiki announces her public petrification, leaving (Y/N) and Hunter silently preparing to witness the execution- torn between duty and conscience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After their little moment, (Y/N) finally pulled her hand away from Hunter’s face, letting the warmth of her touch settle before shifting gears.

“Alright, Blondie,” she murmured, standing up. “Let’s get that scar taken care of before it starts bothering you.”

Hunter sighed, tilting his head back slightly. “The healer already did what she could.”

“Yeah, well, I’m doing the rest.” She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you want it to linger.”

Hunter rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

(Y/N) walked over to the small wooden shelf near their beds, where she kept a few things she had put together over the years- small remedies, basic salves, things she had learned to mix from trial and error, using ingredients she recognized were similar to ones she had in the Human Realm.

She grabbed a small container, then sat back down beside Hunter.

“Hold still,” she muttered.

He huffed but complied, letting her tilt his head slightly to the side so she could work.

The scar was still fresh, the skin bruised and sensitive. Her fingers were steady as she scooped a bit of the ointment onto her fingertips, rubbing it between them to warm it slightly before gently pressing it along the wound.

Hunter tensed at first but didn’t pull away.

“This should help keep it from getting too irritated,” she murmured, focused on her work. “Might help with the scarring too. No promises, though. You might just have to get used to being even more dashing.”

Hunter let out a breath that was almost a chuckle.

She carefully wrapped the bandages around his neck and jaw, making sure they weren’t too tight. When she was satisfied, she tied them off, brushing her hands against her pants as she sat back.

“There.” She smirked. “Good as new. Well... Mostly.”

Hunter lifted a hand, brushing his fingers along the bandage. “…Thanks.”

(Y/N) just shrugged. “Anytime.”

And she meant it.

The weight of the day lingered as (Y/N) and Hunter moved around their room, slipping into their usual nighttime routines. It was almost second nature now- after two years of sharing a space, they had fallen into a rhythm, a quiet understanding of how to exist around each other.

They had made deals early on, back when they first got assigned the same quarters, to avoid unnecessary arguments.

One of the first was changing.

(Y/N), being who she was, had quickly realized that Hunter was the type to get flustered over things like that. And since she wasn’t about to have either of them dealing with awkwardness on a daily basis, she had made a solution.

A makeshift divider.

It wasn’t fancy- just a simple wooden frame she had thrown together with cloth draped over it- but it worked. One side for her, one side for him.

She had always liked making things. Little tools, useful items, balms, salves- things that kept her hands busy, things that kept her mind busy.

It gave her something to control in a world that often felt completely out of her control.

Hunter, for his part, had never complained. He was practical like that.

(Y/N) stepped behind the divider first, tugging her scout uniform off and slipping into something more comfortable- a loose-fitting black shirt and soft pants, simple but effective.

When she finished, she called over. “Alright, Blondie. All yours.”

Hunter let out a quiet breath, stepping past her to take his turn. (Y/N) ran a hand through her hair, sitting cross-legged on her bed, idly tracing the mark on her wrist.

The sigil still felt like nothing to her.

No pain. No restriction.

Belos had wanted to brand her, control her the way he did witches, but it had never worked the way he intended.

She never let on how much that bothered her- she just shook the thought away.

Hunter emerged from behind the divider, dressed in his own sleepwear- a simple tunic and loose pants, nothing out of the ordinary. He ran a hand through his blond hair, sighing as he sat on his bed.

They didn’t talk much after that.

They didn’t need to.

Some nights, after long missions or hard days, they just… existed in the same space, letting the silence settle in.

It was a comfortable kind of quiet.

(Y/N) leaned back against her pillows, watching as Hunter pulled the blanket over himself.

“Get some sleep, Blondie,” she murmured, her voice softer than usual.

Hunter let out a small huff. “Yeah. You too.”

She closed her eyes, her gem humming faintly as she finally let herself relax.

(Y/N) had just started to drift off when Hunter’s voice cut through the quiet, barely more than a whisper.

“Do you think he hates me?”

Her eyes opened.

Hunter’s voice was strained, uncertain.

“Is that why he hurts me?”

(Y/N) didn’t move- she just listened.

“I’m supposed to be the only family he has left… He’s the only family I have left…” Hunter’s voice wavered. He wasn’t even talking to her anymore. He was just talking, letting his thoughts spill out into the darkness.

“I get that he wants me to be strong… that he expects a lot from me. He says the Titan has plans for me. That I’m special.”

A sharp inhale.

“…If I’m special, what’s the point in hurting me?”

(Y/N) sat up immediately.

She didn’t need her Gem’s abilities to know what was happening.

Hunter’s breaths were too quick, too shallow. His body was locked up, stiff under his blankets, his hands gripping the fabric so tightly his knuckles had gone white. His chest rose and fell in uneven, jerky motions.

Panic attack.

Did he even realize?

(Y/N) wasted no time.

She slipped out of her bed and padded across the room. As soon as she reached his bedside, Hunter tensed.

He wasn’t used to being touched when he was like this.

But (Y/N) didn’t care.

She climbed onto his bed without hesitation, slipping under the blanket beside him. She didn’t wait for permission- he wouldn’t have given it anyway. Instead, she reached out and pulled him close, her arms wrapping around him securely.

Hunter froze.

His whole body went rigid, his breath catching in his throat, but (Y/N) just tightened her grip.

“Shhh,” she murmured, her voice warm, soft.

Her gem glowed faintly, sending out the lightest, gentlest pulse of energy- not to control his emotions, not to force him to calm down, but to soothe him. To ease the raw edges, to remind his body that he was safe.

She felt him trembling, the panic still clawing at him, his mind racing in loops he couldn’t break on his own.

She ran a hand over his back, slow, steady, grounding him with touch. “Breathe with me, Hunter,” she cooed, voice low. “Just focus on me, okay?”

A shaky inhale.

A slightly steadier exhale.

Her fingers brushed through his hair, her gem pulsing softly again. “You’re not alone,” she whispered, pressing her forehead lightly against his. “I’ve got you.”

Hunter’s breath hitched.

And then, finally…

He moved.

His shaking hands hesitantly, tentatively, gripped the fabric of her sleeve. His body relaxed just slightly against hers, like he was allowing himself, for just one moment, to be held.

(Y/N) didn’t let go.

She wasn’t going anywhere… 

As (Y/N) held him close, steady and unwavering, Hunter slowly came back down from his panic. Her fingers combed through his hair, gentle and rhythmic, while her other hand rubbed slow, soothing circles against his back. His breathing was still shaky at first, but with every careful stroke, every quiet whisper of reassurance, it evened out little by little.

Hunter hesitated for a long while, his body stiff, uncertain- like he didn’t know how to accept comfort, like he was waiting for her to pull away.

But she didn’t.

She just kept holding him, humming softly under her breath, letting her gem’s faint glow fill the silence with warmth.

Eventually, after what felt like forever, he let out a breath and did something that nearly broke her heart.

He nuzzled into her shoulder.

It was hesitant, barely there, like he was testing whether or not he was allowed to.

(Y/N) didn’t say a word.

She just held him closer.

Time blurred together.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, tangled in the quiet safety of each other’s presence.

But, at some point, Hunter’s breathing evened out completely. The tension in his body melted away, his fingers loosening their grip on her sleeve.

And, finally, he slept.

(Y/N) sighed softly, resting her chin atop his head, her own exhaustion creeping in now that she knew he was okay.

She had no idea what tomorrow would bring.

But for now, in this moment, she wasn’t going anywhere.

And with that thought, she let herself drift off, still holding him close.

Morning came slowly, the soft glow of the rising sun filtering through the small cracks in their room’s curtains. The usual coldness of the Emperor’s castle didn’t seem as sharp this morning- not when warmth surrounded them.

(Y/N) stirred first, her mind sluggish as she registered the unfamiliar but comfortable weight against her.

Hunter.

They were still tangled together, arms wrapped around each other, legs slightly overlapping. At some point in the night, they had curled closer, holding onto each other in their sleep without even realizing it.

It was the best sleep (Y/N) had gotten since arriving in the Boiling Isles.

And for Hunter… maybe the best sleep he had ever had.

For a moment, she didn’t move. She just lay there, letting the quiet settle, feeling how calm everything was.

But then, Hunter shifted, his breathing changing slightly as he woke.

She could feel the exact moment he realized what had happened.

His whole body went rigid.

(Y/N) smirked before even opening her eyes.

A sharp inhale. A stiffening of shoulders. And then-

A soft, strangled noise of pure mortification.

She cracked one eye open to see him completely frozen, his magenta eyes wide and filled with panic. His face was already turning a deep shade of red, his ears burning as he registered the fact that they were still holding onto each other.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, her voice still thick with sleep.

“…Morning, Blondie.”

Hunter flinched.

His brain seemed to shut down for a second before he made a choked, stammering attempt at a response.

“I- uh- what- this- WHY-”

(Y/N) couldn’t help it. She laughed.

“Relax,” she teased, stretching slightly but making no effort to move away. “We just fell asleep. No big deal.”

Hunter opened his mouth, closed it, then covered his face with both hands, groaning. “This is a big deal!”

(Y/N) grinned. “Oh? Why?”

Hunter made a noise.

(Y/N) just shrugged, patting his back lazily. “Hey, at least you slept well.”

That made him pause.

He lowered his hands slightly, blinking at her.

“…Yeah,” he admitted after a long beat, his voice quieter. “I did.”

(Y/N) softened, her teasing smirk fading into something more genuine. “Me too.”

Hunter looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “W-We should probably… um… get up.”

(Y/N) hummed, still smirking. “You sure? You seem pretty comfy.”

Hunter let out an exasperated groan, shoving his pillow over his face.

(Y/N) just laughed, finally rolling off the bed and stretching with a satisfied sigh.

Yep.

Best sleep she’d had in years.

(Y/N) and Hunter moved through their usual morning routine, getting dressed in their scout uniforms. Despite the way the morning had started- warm, soft, and not entirely unpleasant- they both settled back into their usual rhythm.

Hunter, as always, was methodical about getting ready. Every strap adjusted, every piece of armor aligned perfectly. (Y/N), on the other hand, was a little more relaxed, rolling her shoulders as she buckled her gloves into place.

But before they could leave their room, a sharp knock echoed through the wooden door.

(Y/N) shot Hunter a look before striding over and pulling the door open.

A scout stood at attention, their mask in place, stiff and formal. "You are both requested in the throne room. Immediately."

Hunter straightened beside her, his shoulders tightening. (Y/N) just exhaled through her nose, giving the scout a mock salute. "Oh joy. More quality time with our beloved Emperor."

The scout didn't react, simply stepping aside to let them pass.

The throne room was as cold and imposing as ever.

Belos sat on his high throne, draped in white, his golden mask revealing nothing, like usual. The moment they entered, both Hunter and (Y/N) immediately dropped to one knee- though (Y/N) did so with just a little less enthusiasm.

Belos didn’t acknowledge them right away, letting the weight of his presence settle before finally speaking.

"I have gathered you here because new information has come to my attention."

Hunter remained stiff, his expression unreadable beneath his mask. (Y/N), on the other hand, kept her face neutral but felt the tension radiating off of him.

Belos continued.

"I have confirmed the existence of the human girl. She resides in Bonesborough, under the watch of The Owl Lady."

(Y/N) swallowed hard. There it is.

She knew Belos would find out sooner or later, but hearing him say it made her gut twist.

"As you are aware," Belos said smoothly, "I had sent Lilith to retrieve Eda."

(Y/N)'s mind raced. Lilith Clawthorne. Head of the Emperor's Coven. Eda's sister.

But Belos’s next words sent a cold chill through her spine.

"She has been... lacking."

Hunter’s fingers twitched at his sides.

Belos’s voice remained calm. Too calm.

"That is why I have decided to ensure loyalty where it is most needed."

(Y/N) didn’t like where this was going.

Belos finally turned his gaze to Hunter. "You will be promoted."

Hunter stiffened. "Promoted..?"

"You will become the Golden Guard," Belos said. "A position of authority and privilege, answering only to me. You will command the scouts, oversee operations, and ensure that the Emperor’s will is carried out."

(Y/N)'s breath caught.

She knew Hunter had always strived for this- had pushed himself harder than anyone else, desperate to prove himself.

But something about this felt wrong.

Belos wasn't rewarding Hunter.

He was tightening his leash.

"And as for you," Belos said, finally turning to (Y/N). "You will be assigned as his Onyx."

(Y/N)’s stomach dropped.

The title hit her like a slap, the weight of her own identity twisted into something else.

Onyx. Her Gem, her heritage, a title meant for leaders- for warriors who protected, who stood at the front lines, not at the beck and call of some Emperor.

And yet, Belos was turning it against her.

"You will remain at the Golden Guard’s side at all times," Belos continued. "You will be his personal guard, his enforcer, his shadow. And in this, you will prove your loyalty to me."

(Y/N) felt sick.

This wasn’t a promotion.

It was a collar.

Belos didn’t trust anyone- not Lilith, not his own coven heads.

But now, with this? He was making sure that if Lilith ever did betray him, Hunter and (Y/N) wouldn’t.

Hunter was stiff beside her, but he didn’t hesitate.

He bowed lower. "I will not fail you, Emperor Belos."

(Y/N) clenched her jaw, forcing her head down as well. "Understood."

Belos’s mask gave away nothing, but his voice was smooth. Satisfied.

"You are dismissed."

(Y/N) didn’t hesitate. She turned on her heel and followed Hunter out of the throne room.

But inside?

She was seething.

As soon as Hunter and (Y/N) stepped out of the throne room, they were met by a group of scouts standing at attention. Each one held something in their hands- new uniforms.

Hunter was handed his first.

The Golden Guard uniform.

It was unlike the standard scout attire- more ornate, with a high-collared cloak, armor with gold accents, and a mask that bore the signature sharp, beak-like shape. The uniform had apparently been passed down to him, the title of the Golden Guard now officially his.

Hunter took it with careful hands, his expression unreadable.

Then the scouts turned to (Y/N).

She expected something similar- another standard scout uniform, maybe something slightly adjusted to reflect her new position.

But what they handed her?

It was different.

The fabric was sleek, sharp in design like Hunter’s new uniform, but instead of gold, it was a muted, light pink- the color of her Gem.

Her mask, too, was different.

It wasn’t in the shape of a beak or a traditional scout’s mask. It was round, smooth, completely blank aside from the cutouts for her eyes. It was an eerie thing, unsettling in its simplicity.

She turned it over in her hands, her chest tightening.

It was intentional.

Belos had designed this role for her. He had taken her identity, her Gem, and turned it into a title, something that meant she belonged to him.

He had done the same to Hunter.

The two of them weren’t just scouts anymore. They were weapons.

And they were supposed to wield each other.

(Y/N) clenched her jaw but said nothing as she took the uniform.

One of the scouts stepped forward again, handing them a scroll, sealed with the mark of the Emperor’s Coven.

Hunter took it, breaking the seal and unrolling it. His eyes scanned over the orders inside.

(Y/N) watched as his grip on the paper tightened.

“What is it?” she asked, already dreading the answer.

Hunter exhaled sharply before handing her the scroll.

(Y/N) took it and read-

New Orders: Golden Guard and Onyx. Monitor Lilith Clawthorne closely. She has been ordered to bring in her sister, the wild witch Eda Clawthorne. If she fails, she will be stripped of her title. The human girl from Bonesborough attends a local school in an attempt to become a witch. The school is set to tour the Emperor’s Coven today. Lilith is expected to keep an eye on them. You will ensure she remains loyal. You will not intervene, just report back if anything is to occur.

(Y/N)’s grip on the scroll tightened.

Belos was setting up a trap.

Lilith was running out of time to bring Eda in, and if she failed, she would be punished. And now, they were supposed to watch her, report any hesitation, and make sure she didn’t stray.

And on top of that, the human- the girl (Y/N) had just seen- was going to be in the castle today.

She and Hunter were expected to watch.

To report if things didn’t go the way Belos wanted.

(Y/N)’s stomach twisted.

Hunter swallowed, still staring at the uniform in his hands. He had worked for this moment his whole life.

But now that it was here, she could feel the weight pressing down on him.

She met his gaze.

Neither of them said it.

But they were both thinking the same thing.

How much longer can we keep doing this?

They both headed back to their room, to change, and to start their new mission… As the day went on, it had been uneventful- for the most part.

Hunter and (Y/N) had stayed close to the Hexside students, their orders clear: Watch. Observe. Report if necessary.

(Y/N) had always hated orders like that.

It meant sitting back and watching things unfold, letting the pieces fall into place without interfering. And today?

The pieces were definitely falling.

She had noticed the human girl- Luz- trying to sneak away almost immediately. She wasn’t exactly subtle, tugging on grates, looking around with a suspicious expression despite her attempt to blend in.

Two others- friends, clearly- watched her with amusement.

One was a younger boy, dressed in the blue uniform of the Illusion track. The other was a girl, taller, with cute round glasses. She wore green- Plant track.

They were definitely letting Luz do her own thing, though it was obvious they found her antics entertaining.

(Y/N) shared a glance with Hunter, who simply crossed his arms and sighed. “She’s going to get caught.”

(Y/N) smirked. “Yeah. But it’ll be fun watching her try.”

Hunter huffed but didn’t argue.

As the tour moved into the Old Magic Relic Room, (Y/N)’s interest piqued slightly.

The room was filled with magical artifacts, relics of a time long past- the Green Thumb Gauntlet, the Oracle Sphere, the Healing Hat. There were statues too, high up in the rafters behind white-gold arches, depicting the original coven leaders from when Belos first introduced the system.

(Y/N) wasn’t sure why, but something about the room made her uneasy. Maybe it was the weight of history pressing down on her, the knowledge that all of this- everything- was part of Belos’s legacy of control.

Then, she noticed Lilith heading to the Throne room.

And she wasn’t the only one who noticed.

Luz, ever curious, immediately broke from the group and followed after Lilith.

(Y/N) and Hunter exchanged another look.

Hunter exhaled sharply. “We should report this.”

(Y/N) tilted her head. “Or we could see how this plays out.”

Hunter groaned but reluctantly followed her as they tailed the students a little longer, keeping tabs on everything.

Some time passed, and eventually, Luz returned to the group.

(Y/N) noted that she looked… off. Pale. Uneasy. Like she had seen something that had shaken her to her core.

She didn’t know what, but something had definitely happened while she was gone.

Hunter leaned in slightly, whispering, “Something isn’t right.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” (Y/N) murmured.

The Hexside students started leaving soon after, but Luz stayed behind.

Hunter and (Y/N) followed from a distance, watching as Luz seemed to be setting something up. When Luz peered out the window, checking to make sure no one noticed her absence, she saw-

Herself.

(Y/N)’s eyebrows shot up.

Luz, Willow, and Gus were all leaving with the group.

Except, they weren’t.

Seconds later, Luz was tapped on the shoulder, turning to find the real Willow and Gus standing behind her.

Illusions. Smart.

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Clever.”

(Y/N) grinned. “I like them.”

Hunter rolled his eyes.

Willow and Gus confronted Luz, holding up notes she had left unattended. As Luz tried to explain, her friends revealed that they already knew about Eda’s curse- and that they wanted to help her steal the Healing Hat.

(Y/N) let out a low whistle. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

Hunter shot her a look. “We’re not supposed to interfere.”

“I know,” (Y/N) said innocently, rocking on her heels. “I’m watching, aren’t I?”

Hunter groaned, rubbing his temples.

They watched as Luz, Willow, and Gus made their way past the guards and into the relic room, sneaking toward the Healing Hat.

For a second, it seemed like they might actually pull it off.

But then-

Lilith appeared.

(Y/N) tensed slightly, watching the scene unfold.

Lilith barely had to try- she easily overpowered Willow and Gus, sending them tumbling aside before capturing Luz in a glowing containment bubble.

And then, without hesitation-

She destroyed the Healing Hat.

(Y/N)’s smirk faded.

Luz’s expression was pure heartbreak as the hat crumbled, all of her hopes for Eda’s curse vanishing in an instant.

Lilith’s face was unreadable, but her voice was cold. "It never would’ve worked anyway."

(Y/N) could feel the moment Lilith realized what she had just been given.

A weakness. A way to exploit Eda.

Lilith ordered Willow and Gus to go to Eda- to tell her that Luz had been captured.

Hunter watched all of this with a carefully neutral expression, his posture stiff, unreadable.

(Y/N), however, exhaled slowly, crossing her arms.

She had a feeling Belos would be pleased.

And that bothered her.

The moment Eda Clawthorne stormed up the castle, magic crackling around her like a living storm, (Y/N) knew- this was unlike anything they had seen before.

Eda wasn’t just powerful.

She was furious.

Even Hunter seemed momentarily stunned as the wild witch thundered through the castle, her very presence warping the air around her. The raw force of her magic sent shockwaves through the halls, setting banners aflame and making stone crack under her feet.

She wasn’t fighting her way in.

She was announcing herself.

She had come for Luz.

And nothing was going to stop her.

(Y/N) and Hunter immediately made their way to Belos.

If Eda was this desperate, this angry, then they needed to be ready for whatever was about to happen.

When they entered the throne room, Belos was already seated, watching everything unfold through the swirling green haze of a viewing spell.

Hunter knelt immediately. “What are your orders, Emperor Belos?”

Belos didn’t turn. He watched Eda’s onslaught unfold before him, completely calm.

Then, after a long pause-

“…Stand aside.”

Hunter stiffened. “But-”

Belos tilted his head, finally looking at them.

“You will keep your roles. You will remain where you are.” His voice was smooth, measured. “But you will do nothing.”

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. Do nothing?

Something was off.

Belos wanted this to play out.

Hunter didn’t argue further. He simply bowed his head. “Understood.”

(Y/N) clenched her fists but forced herself to nod.

They were playing a role in Belos’s game, whether they liked it or not.

The Duel Begins.

(Y/N) and Hunter watched as Eda and Lilith clashed on the castle’s high bridge, exchanging magic and insults in equal measure.

But then-

Lilith slipped.

In the middle of their heated argument, she accidentally revealed the truth.

"Then why were you so easy to curse?!"

The air went still.

Eda froze, her magic flickering for the briefest moment.

Lilith’s eyes widened- she hadn’t meant to say it.

But it was too late.

Eda snarled, her fury reigniting. The duel escalated dangerously, wild magic tearing through the castle bridge.

And then, amid the chaos-

Luz broke free.

(Y/N) tensed as Luz shattered the containment spell, landing on the bridge with wide eyes, her hands clenched into fists.

But before she could run to Eda, Lilith let out a low, cold chuckle.

“Oh, child,” she said, almost pitying. “That bubble was for your protection.”

Then, without hesitation-

She blasted Luz off the bridge.

(Y/N)’s breath caught.

Hunter flinched beside her.

Luz tumbled backward, her scream echoing as she fell toward the pit of spikes below.

(Y/N)’s body moved before she could think, a pulse of instinct from her Gem telling her to act-

But she didn’t have to.

Because Eda moved first.

With the last of her magic, Eda caught Luz, hurling her to safety.

But at a cost.

Her magic was gone.

The curse took hold instantly, her body convulsing as her form shifted, twisted, morphed.

The Owl Beast emerged.

Luz’s face was filled with pure, heartbreaking terror.

(Y/N) felt it. The shock. The devastation. The helplessness.

Eda, barely able to speak, mustered her final words to Luz.

Then-

She sent Owlbert to carry Luz away.

She saved her.

And in return?

Lilith captured her.

The Owl Beast was restrained, her massive form bound in enchanted chains. Owlbert, too, was seized.

(Y/N) and Hunter stood at a distance, watching.

Doing nothing.

Because that’s what Belos had ordered.

Lilith turned to Luz, her expression unreadable.

“Go back to your world.” Her voice was cool, final.

“This one’s ours.”

Luz’s eyes burned with tears as she was forced to leave.

(Y/N) watched silently, her stomach twisting.

Belos had won.

(Y/N) stood beside Hunter, her body stiff, her mind racing.

"Stay silent."

That was Belos’s order.

She and Hunter were to remain at his side, to be his shadows, to be present in case anything were to happen. They were not to interfere.

And then, as if nothing had happened- as if he hadn’t just watched Lilith betray her own sister, hadn’t orchestrated all of this- Belos praised them.

"You have done a wonderful job," he said smoothly, his voice warm, almost gentle.

He was playing a role, just like he always did.

And she hated that she had to play along.

Still, she dropped her head slightly, pretending to accept the words.

Hunter, beside her, absorbed them like they were air.

Belos placed a hand on Hunter’s shoulder, a sign of trust, of favoritism.

"I am proud of you, my Golden Guard," he murmured.

(Y/N) felt Hunter straighten, saw the way he lit up at those words- just for a moment- before forcing himself back into composure.

But she had felt the flash of emotion from him.

Hope. Relief.

A desperate need for approval.

(Y/N) clenched her jaw but kept quiet.

Belos turned, motioning for them to follow. “Come. We have more to attend to.”

The top floor of the palace was cold, sterile, designed for containment rather than comfort.

(Y/N) and Hunter stood still at Belos’s side as they entered the back room, where Lilith was struggling to restrain the beastly Eda Clawthorne.

The Owl Beast fought against its bindings, snarling, clawing, its massive form twitching and writhing. Lilith stood over it, clearly shaken but trying to keep control.

Belos stepped forward, raising a hand.

With a pulse of sickly green magic, Eda’s body seized, stiffened-

And then…

Her mind returned.

Eda gasped, her human consciousness restored, her beastly features retreating enough for her to think, to speak.

Belos moved closer, his golden mask unreadable.

"You have something that does not belong to you," he said smoothly, his tone almost casual.

Eda blinked, her body still weak, but her glare was unwavering. “And what’s that, Chuckles?”

Belos tilted his head slightly. “The portal door.”

(Y/N) froze.

A portal?

To the Human Realm?

Her hands clenched at her sides, her pulse spiking.

Why hadn’t he said anything before?

Hadn’t that been their deal? If he ever learned about a way home, he was supposed to tell her.

But he had kept it from her.

Because of course he did.

Her eyes flickered toward Hunter, but if he had any reaction, he wasn’t showing it.

Eda, however, laughed.

"Yeah, no. Not happening."

Belos exhaled, as if disappointed. “That is… unfortunate.”

He turned slightly, motioning toward one of the guards. “Then I will simply retrieve it myself. Take her away. She will be dealt with.”

Lilith’s face fell.

“My lord-” she started, stepping forward. “You promised-”

Belos ignored her.

Eda struggled weakly as the guards grabbed her, pulling her toward another chamber. “Hey! HEY! You slimy son of a-”

The door slammed shut.

Lilith stood frozen, eyes wide.

“B-But you said…” she whispered, looking genuinely shaken.

Belos turned his gaze toward her, his voice eerily calm. “I said she would be dealt with.”

(Y/N) watched as something in Lilith cracked.

For the first time, she seemed uncertain, like she had finally realized that her loyalty to Belos wasn’t going to be rewarded the way she had thought.

Belos held out Owlbert, the small staff twitching slightly in his grasp.

He placed it in Lilith’s hands.

“Destroy it.”

Lilith swallowed hard, gripping the staff.

She didn’t argue.

She didn’t refuse.

She just stood there, holding the staff like it was something fragile, something she didn’t want to break.

(Y/N) felt the shift.

Lilith was crumbling.

And Belos knew it.

With that final order, Belos turned and walked away, his white cloak billowing behind him.

(Y/N) and Hunter followed wordlessly, their roles clear.

Stay silent.

Do nothing.

Watch everything unfold.

(Y/N) didn’t look back.

Because if she did-

She wasn’t sure if she could keep pretending.

Neither of them spoke as they returned to their room, both lost in their own thoughts. The moment the door shut behind them, (Y/N) pulled off her mask, setting it down with a quiet thunk on the table.

Hunter did the same, rubbing a hand over his face before sitting heavily on his bed.

The air in their quarters was heavy.

(Y/N), however, wasn’t ready to just sit there.

She walked over to the small crystal ball they had gotten to share, a small luxury she had managed to get for them. It was their equivalent of a TV, the closest thing she had to anything that reminded her of home.

Flipping through the channels, she barely paid attention at first- random shows, puppet theaters, coven announcements-

Until she landed on the news report.

Her fingers froze over the controls.

The screen showed a press conference, the Emperor’s Coven symbol displayed behind the speakers.

And then-

Kikimora.

She stood at the podium, official and composed, her shrill voice sharp as she addressed the crowd.

"The Emperor’s Coven has adjudicated on the matter of the wild witch Eda Clawthorne."

(Y/N)’s stomach tightened.

Hunter, who had been half-distracted, immediately sat up straighter.

"It has been decided that her punishment will be petrification."

The words slammed into the room like a physical force.

(Y/N)’s breath hitched.

"The petrification will occur at sunset."

Silence.

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them breathed.

For a long moment, (Y/N) just stared at the screen, at the smug confidence in Kikimora’s stance, at the casual way she announced Eda’s death like it was just another day at work.

Then, without a word, she turned off the crystal ball.

Hunter was already standing.

“We should be there in person,” he said, his voice unreadable.

(Y/N) exhaled slowly. “Yeah.”

They didn’t need to discuss it.

They didn’t need to argue.

They moved quickly, retrieving their masks, adjusting their uniforms, securing their weapons.

It was a ritual at this point- getting ready, preparing for their roles.

But this time?

It felt different.

This wasn’t just another mission.

This was a death sentence.

And they were going to watch it happen.

ITS SO CRISP!!! I want the art book so baddddddd 🥺

Digital Artbook was released in Japan so I found some HD Silco concepts on twitter and upscaled them to an even higher quality

Art post!

This post has some more recent art, and sketches. My last post had some of my older, finished pieces. Feel free to give me any suggestions, tips, or requests in my asks or dms :}

A lot of these are unfinished, but I do plan on finishing them eventually. As soon as I do, I'll post them on here, and my insta!

[Request]

HH x TOH AU

This one is with Amity and Angel bonding with each other after they both find out that they have similar experiences with abuse.

(WARNING: Mentions of Self Harm, Suicide, both Physical & Psychological Abuse.)

A/N: @beastkeeper91, I love writing for fandom crossovers, so I love how many I've been getting :}

Trust Fall Trauma pt.2

pt.1

Sinner!Amity Blight x Hazbin Hotel.

Warnings: Mentions of Self Harm, Suicide, Physical/Psychological Abuse, Toxic parent-child relationships, Trauma responses, Mild language.

Word Count: 1377

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started, as many things at the Hotel did, with chaos.

“WHO put glitter in the toaster?!” Vaggie shrieked from the kitchen, holding up the crime scene with righteous fury.

“That would be me,” Angel Dust said proudly, sipping something fizzy and definitely not Charlie-approved. “I was experimenting.”

“With what? Arson?” Vaggie snapped.

Angel winked. “Domestic sparkle.”

In the corner, Amity bit back a snort. She was draped lazily across the bean bag she’d claimed during the last “team-building” activity (A.K.A the hostage decorating session). A book was open on her lap, mostly ignored.

Charlie breezed in, arms full of new flyers for her “Soulful Sundays” program, handing them out like cursed coupons.

“Angel, Amity- go put these up around town, please!”

“What am I, your poster boy?” Angel asked, examining one with his face doodled onto the logo. “Wait… actually, this is kind of cute. Look at my lashes.”

Amity rolled her eyes but stood. “I swear, if I get stabbed doing this again, I’m charging something next time.”

They were out the door five minutes later, squabbling lightly as they walked through the dim streets of Pentagram City.

“I still don’t get why I have to help,” Amity muttered, clutching her roll of posters.

“Because you have claws and you’re scary and people won’t mess with us?” Angel offered. “And because you secretly like us.”

She snorted. “Keep dreaming, spider.”

They wandered for a while, stapling posters to demon poles and charmingly decrepit walls, dodging the occasional mugging in progress. Eventually, they found themselves on the roof of a low building overlooking the twisted skyline.

Amity sat on the edge, feet dangling. Angel joined her, legs crossed delicately, cigarette in hand. For a while, they just watched the city breathe.

It was surprisingly… peaceful.

“Hey,” Angel said after a beat, glancing at the stripes on her arms. “You always had those?”

Amity tensed, glancing down.

The markings were faint, like natural fur patterns. But they weren’t. Not really... Not to her.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I've had them since I got to hell… Had them before too, but uh… They weren't exactly just marks at that time.”

Angel didn't push. He just nodded, taking a drag.

“I got scars, too,” he said after a minute. “...Val made sure of that.”

Amity looked at him sideways. There was something raw in his voice, despite the lightness he tried to fake. The cracks showed through if you knew where to look.

“My mom,” she said slowly, “Didn’t even care that I was hurting myself when she found out. She used to say the pain meant I was being shaped into something ‘worthy.’ That I’d thank her someday…”

Angel scoffed. “Let me guess. You didn’t.”

“I bled out on the floor of my bedroom when I was sixteen,” Amity said flatly. “So, no. I didn’t.”

Silence.

Angel took another drag, then offered the cigarette to her.

To no one's surprise, she declined it.

“Val told me I was nothing without him,” Angel said, voice softer now. “Just a pretty face with a hole to fill. Said I was lucky he kept me.”

“He sounds like Odalia,” Amity muttered, watching the smoke curl up from the cigarette Angel was smoking, into the deep red sky. “Except she preferred emotional evisceration. Less mess.”

“You ever try to fight back?”

“Once,” she said. “Got locked in my closet for a week.”

Angel winced.

They sat there, two ghosts with matching bruises in different shapes, saying nothing for a while.

Eventually, Amity spoke again.

“You ever wonder why the scars aren’t here, but the damage still is?”

“All the time,” Angel said. “I think Hell takes the pain and turns it into something you gotta wear. Like a suit. Or a warning.”

Amity looked down at her arms. The fur shimmered faintly under the lights of Hell.

“Maybe it’s not a punishment,” she said. “Maybe it’s a reminder. That we went through it...”

Angel looked at her then, really looked. The kid who called Charlie "Mom" by accident. The tough girl with the sharp wit and the too-tired eyes.

“You’re alright, Blight,” he said, tapping ashes into the void. “Kinda messed up, but in a way I respect.”

“You too, Angel,” she replied. “Spider freak.”

He grinned. “Trauma twins?”

She held up a fist.

He bumped it.

Eventually, Angel's cigarette burned down, and the chill of the rooftop crept in- not that Hell had real seasons, but the air still found ways to bite… Even with the heat.

Amity stretched, tail flicking lazily behind her. “We should finish the job before Charlie has a meltdown and starts handing out redemption-themed stickers again.”

“God forbid,” Angel groaned. “Last time I found one on my ass.”

They hopped down, finishing their poster rounds with minimal incident- aside from one demon who tried to flirt with Angel and got a mouthful of claws courtesy of Amity’s quick temper.

“Damn, girl,” Angel whistled as they walked away. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

“Good,” she said. “I was gonna put that on a business card.”

By the time they got back to the hotel, the front lobby was quiet, lit only by the warm golden glow of Charlie’s favorite chandelier and the soft flicker of whatever infernal candles Alastor insisted on lighting. The chaotic noise of earlier had faded. For once, things were… calm.

They stood in the doorway for a second. Neither of them moved.

“You ever get that thing,” Angel said, voice oddly gentle, “where you walk back into a place, and it feels like home, but your brain’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop?”

Amity nodded slowly. “All the time.”

They entered together. Quietly. Like if they talked too loud, the spell might break.

Charlie was curled up on a couch in the lounge, half-asleep with a book open across her chest and her hair messed up a bit.

Angel grinned. “Sunshine passed out mid-sentence.”

Amity smiled faintly, something warm flickering behind her ribs. “She does that.”

They didn’t wake her. Just set the last few posters on the coffee table and sank into the nearby beanbags- Angel flopping like he was melting, Amity perching with the caution of a cat ready to bolt.

“You think she really means it?” Amity asked suddenly. “All this redemption stuff?”

“Charlie?” Angel leaned back, arms behind his head. “Yeah. She's nuts, but she means it. I’ve never seen someone try so hard to love everyone. It’s kinda annoying, honestly.”

Amity smirked. “She’s nice to me…”

“She's nice to everyone, but... Yeah, pretty sure she has an extra soft spot for you,” Angel teased. “Especially after the whole 'Mom' thing.”

Amity gave him a half-hearted glare, then sighed. “I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Sure,” he said. “But you felt it.”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin there, eyes tracing the edge of the chandelier above.

“I used to imagine what it would feel like,” she murmured. “To have someone who didn’t hurt me. Someone who stayed. But after a while, it just… felt stupid. Like fairy tales for broken kids.”

Angel was quiet.

Then, softly, “I used to fake voices when I was little. Pretend someone was reading to me at night. Said goodnight. Said I was safe.”

Amity looked at him. “You've never told anyone that, have you?”

“Nope,” he said. “You’re just special.”

She rolled her eyes, but it lacked heat.

A long moment passed. Then she asked:

“What does healing even look like for people like us?”

Angel thought about it.

“Not running,” he said finally. “Not hiding. Laughing more. Flinching less. Waking up and not feeling like the worst version of yourself.”

Amity nodded, quiet. “That sounds… impossible.”

He smiled sadly. “Yeah. But Charlie thinks we can get there. And I guess…” He nudged her foot with his own. “If I’ve gotta stumble toward healing with anyone, I don’t mind if it’s you and the rest of these idiots...”

She didn’t say anything.

But she didn’t pull away either.

Instead, she leaned back into the beanbag and let herself breathe. For the first time in longer than she could remember, Amity didn’t feel like she had to earn the right to just exist…