His Vision Is Shit, He Needs Glasses

Put together a Silco hand reference for art reasons.

i promised you 🦋

(crossposting from x, bsky, & ig)

Overtime

Stolen Moments

You chose the perfect moment to knock on Silco's office door, finding him in a rare lull between his ceaseless duties.

Pairing: Silco x gn!reader

Words: ~2.3k

Content: mostly fluff, suggestive, some power dynamics, newly established relationship, slow burn, not explicit but i'm gunna say nsfw-ish just to be safe (18+, MDNI)

A/N: Its been a long long while since I've written anything. IDK what I'm doing but I'm doing it.

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

“Yes?” Silco's calls out with a hint of weariness, a frown creasing his brow as he anticipates yet another demand on his precious time. The knock on his door came right as the Zaunite leader had pulled a cigar out to enjoy before his next appointment and he was looking forward to a few rare moments of silence to gather his thoughts.

Standing on the other side of the door to his sanctuary, you smirk just before peeking your head in with a small "Hi." Sevika had warned you that he was in a 'mood' before you wandered into The Last Drop, and you hoped to bring him some relief, even if it was temporary.

Any hint of annoyance immediately melts away as his eyes meet yours — a low hum of pleasure escaping him as he waves you in, the freshly rolled tobacco still in hand. You slid into the chamber dressed in your usual attire, albeit with some extra flair... and you sensed that he noticed, just as you hoped he would.

"My little Dove," he purrs affectionately. The nickname sparks a fluttering sensation in your chest. You find yourself momentarily flustered, a light blush tinting your cheeks as you shift ever so slightly under his intense stare. The term manages to stir both a sense of closeness and shyness within you. The Eye of Zaun's gaze then sweeps over you, a mix of appraisal and undisguised interest. His eyes, sharp and calculating, soften momentarily as they trace the contours of your figure, hinting at thoughts kept carefully concealed. "What impeccable timing you have," he adds. His words linger in the air, filled with an unspoken understanding.

You beam at him, a soft chuckle escaping your lips bashfully. "I had a feeling you might be happy to see me." Your steps echo softly as you wander further into the room, your curious eyes scanning the various objects around his office. Each visit reveals something new, offering intriguing insights into the man across the room.

"Indeed, I am — I must admit, it’s not often that someone seeks my company without an agenda. Your presence is more appreciated than you might realize." He leans back in his chair, his orange eye glinting as he watches you intently. "Though my time is a luxury today. Come, let us make it count,” Silco says, his voice a blend of authority with an underlying warmth, instructing you to share in his moment of rest with a sense of urgency.

... And you are more than happy to acquiesce.

With a playful skip, you move around his desk, intending to perch on the corner, careful not to disturb any papers. Before you can settle, Silco reaches out, his fingers wrapping gently but firmly around your wrist. His touch, unexpectedly warm, sends a ripple of excitement through you as he guides you into his lap, his lips crashing into yours with need. You hum in bliss, your hand caressing the edge of his jaw, fingers weaving carefully through his hair, mindful not to dishevel it too much. Under your touch, the Industrialist's shoulders drop, tension melting away — his concerns, momentarily forgotten.

As you both part, Silco reaches for his lighter with deliberate slowness, his movements precise and practiced before spinning his chair to face the large, round window, its eerie green light casting long, undulating shadows across the room. The outside world vanishes, leaving just the two of you in this secluded, spectral sphere -- hiding you from any unexpected intrusions.

"Now, to what do I owe this pleasure, my Dove?" He rumbles, resting his cigar between his chipped teeth, looking up at you with that familiar, two-tone stare.

"I was in the area and... Well, I just wanted to see you,” you admit, the words sheepish yet sincere. “I know you're swamped, but...” Your voice trails off, leaving the sentiment hanging in the air, simple yet profound.

Silco raises a hand, acknowledging and waving away any concerns you might have. “This time, these moments – they’re yours,” he asserts, his tone softening. “Even if it’s just a fleeting respite from the chaos outside, they belong to us.” His words, both reassuring and commanding, further quell your concerns. You savor these rare, quiet interludes, and you're grateful that he does too.

As Silco returns his attention to the cigar, the flicker of his lighter momentarily casts a dancing glow on his face. The flame illuminates the rugged contours of his features, etching shadows that play across his scarred visage. His expression, usually so composed and unreadable, softens in the dim light, revealing a rare vulnerability.

You lean in closer, drawn irresistibly to the dichotomy presented by his hardened exterior and the fleeting glimpses of something more beneath. Each line on his face, each subtle shift in his expression, speaks to a life of resilience and unspoken trials. The green hue of the room bathes him in an almost ethereal light, accentuating the unique blend of strength and weariness that he embodies.

Silco, seemingly aware of your gaze, meets your eyes for a moment. In that brief exchange, a silent conversation unfolds. His eyes, a deep well of uncharted emotions, flicker with a blend of curiosity, caution, and a hint of something warmer. It is a look that speaks of battles fought, both outside and within, and of a guarded heart cautiously navigating the perils of intimacy.

The smoke from his cigar begins to curl upwards, weaving through the air like a sinuous dance. It adds a layer of mystique to the already charged atmosphere, a tangible reminder of the complexities surrounding both of you. Yet, in this shared space, surrounded by the spectral light and the quiet hum of the city beyond, there's a sense of peace.

Your fingers itch to trace the lines of his story, to explore the depths of his character that so few get to see. Throughout this cautious dance of intimacy, you've learned to tread gently, aware that delving too deep too quickly could fray the delicate threads of trust you've painstakingly woven between you. In this moment, under the interplay of light and shadow, you see not just the leader of Zaun, but the man behind the title — enigmatic, profound, and irresistibly human.

Captivated and unable to resist further, you gently trace the scar around his left eye, your touch tender and inquisitive.

"What?" he asks, one brow arching above his sea-foam eye, a hint of suspicion in his tone at the attention being paid to the other.

A pause hangs between you as you ponder your next words. "... You're beautiful," the words escape your lips in a whisper, almost hesitant. You watch as they land on him, seeing the way his eyes widen imperceptibly, a crack in his usual stoic armor.

Silco’s response is a momentary silence, a rare loss for words, before a quiet, almost incredulous chuckle escapes him -- as if to deflect the tender compliment. “That’s a first,” he murmurs, a note of surprise coloring his tone as his eyes scrutinize yours for any hint of insincerity or taunting. But he finds none... just your genuine touch, continuing its exploration in silence.

... He quickly realizes that you mean it, and that unexpected honesty catches him off guard, stirring a tempest of emotions within the hardened leader.

As you pull your hand away, Silco's chest tightens, a storm of conflicting feelings swirling inside. His gaze lingers on you, seeking anchorage in the present amid the tumult of his thoughts. To buy time, he takes a slow, deliberate draw from his cigar, the smoke curling around you both as he processes…

The l u s t -- For the stunning creature in front of him that he snared in his web.

... And an adoration for your willingness to stay that way.

A drop of guilt ... For coveting such a soul like yours.

... But also, an unyielding resolve to never let you go.

The FEAR... For what could be l o s t if he wasn't careful.

... Yet hope for what could be if he was.

Above all, honor — for your choice to be with him, accepting all that he is ...and all that he is not.

Every. Single. Time... So far, anyway.

These emotions swirl within him, a maelstrom of desire, fear, and awe. But then, with a subtle exhale, he releases the smoke, along with the knot of thoughts threatening to draw him away from this moment of connection.

Your face starts to fall, worried you've overstepped, and you part your lips to apologize. But before you can speak, Silco wraps his arm around you, pulling you deeper into his lap.

"You're too pure for this world," he whispers, the warmth of his breath against your skin. His hold tightens, a gesture not just of possession but of deep care. "But don't worry, my Dove," he adds, a sly smirk playing across his lips as he gently rocks his hips, his growing affection evident against you, "...I'll take care of that."

His voice is murmur, a blend of mischief and promise. The intensity in his gaze suggests a longing that goes beyond this stolen moment, restrained only by the call of duty.

And as if on cue, a knock ripples through the tranquility of the office, serving as both a reminder and an interruption. "Boss, your next appointment is ready," Sevika announces from the outside world, her tone carrying the weight of his responsibilities.

A flash of disappointment crosses your face, mirrored subtly in the mismatched eyes that watch you. Silco catches it, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "… Tell them I'll need a few more minutes," he responds, his voice smooth yet firm as he takes another draw from his cigar. The unspoken words hang in the air between you with the smoke that was slowly dissipating — if not for these duties that bind him, this moment would have stretched into something more.

Sevika's footsteps retreat in silent acknowledgement, granting you both a brief extension of your private world. "A few stolen moments are all we have sometimes," he says softly, the usual hardness in his eyes giving way to a tender sincerity.

You let loose a soft sigh, resisting yet ultimately accepting of the situation. "I'll take whatever I can get," you breath, careful to not disturb the moment too much. His hand, warm against your back, pulls you a fraction closer and you lean forward to rest your forehead against his in quiet gratitude for another few beats.

You can feel the Zaunite shift as the minutes are spent, resisting the return of his hardened facade as the anticipation of his next task intrudes on his fleeting reprieve. "… I'm afraid duty calls," he says, a hint of regret lacing his words. “But trust me, there will come a day,” Silco says, his voice low and laced with a promise, “when I can give you not just moments, but hours, days... uninterrupted. Just be patient with me, my Dove.”

This time, it's you that is caught in a stunned silence. His words, a promise veiled as a whisper. In his embrace, you find a reassurance that goes beyond the confines of time and duty. It's a pledge of more — more time, more often, more of him.

As you reluctantly disentangle from his hold, preparing to step back into the world outside, Silco's gaze lingers on you with an intensity that speaks of future encounters. “This isn't the end, only a pause,” he assures you, his voice low and resonant. He leans forward, the distance closing as his lips brush softly against yours, each second savored.

In those final moments, as the green light bathes you both one last time, you understand the weight of his promise. It's not just words, but a vow — a vow to make up for every second lost to the demands of his world, a vow to explore the depths of what you both could be, when time finally allows.

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

As the day finally began to come to a close, Sevika stepped into the dimly lit office and closed the door, her posture rigid with an urgency that commanded attention. Silco, still seated behind his desk, looked up from his paperwork, an air of expectancy in his gaze.

“Boss, we need to talk,” Sevika’s voice was firm, brooking no room for dismissal. “It’s about your most recent muse,” she nodded towards the door you had exited through some time ago, her expression serious.

Silco’s hand paused, the paperwork momentarily forgotten. “Go on,” he prompted, his voice betraying none of his thoughts.

“This relationship, it’s a risk. It makes you vulnerable, and vulnerabilities in our position can be fatal,” Sevika’s tone was unwavering, her concern clear.

Silco regarded her silently for a moment, his eyes reflecting a complex mix of acknowledgment and defiance. “They’re not the first to catch my attention, nor will they be the last...” His voice trailed off, uncharacteristically, as his own words sunk in and stirred a fierce rejection of his own statement.

“Bullshit. I see that look in your eye when they're around. This is different.” Sevika pressed, “And have you considered how Jinx might react to this? She's volatile, and if she senses she's losing your focus, it could lead to trouble. We can’t afford more instability.”

While the turmoil bubbled beneath his skin, Silcos hardened expression remained, unwilling to let Sevika know she's right nor unable to ignore her words of caution. "I'll handle it." He states flatly, returning to the documents on his desk.

Sevika pauses and studies him for several long moments before clenching her fists, sensing Silcos resistance yet knowing the discussion has been concluded. “... Just be careful, Boss. We can’t let our guard down. Not now."

After Sevika left, Silco turned back to the window, his mind a tumult of thoughts. In the reflection, his eyes held a depth of emotion seldom seen — a mix of determination and an unspoken conflict within. This connection with you had indeed become stronger than he expected, and Sevika wasn't wrong…

… This was different.

WIP siesta 🩵

A story about all the fictional men that I’ve ever hyperfixated on.

My Love

MORPHEUS X READER

What if you were Sandman's lover and the two of you were separated during the 100 years of his imprisonemnt?

What if just for once you were able to visit him in your dreams?

(Reader with no gender specified :) )

You haven't have seen your lover Morpheus for 57 years by now and you were losing hope in his return.

The realm was slowly decading and the only thing that was keeping you from the complete distruction was the love for Dream. You knew deep in your soul that he would have returned, but that hope was fading away little by little every day. You hated yourself because you knew that Dream would have never abandoned you, Lucienne and his entire realm to go living with the humans, those filthy creatures from the waking world.

Those thoughts kept you awake every night and sometimes, between the tears, you couldn't even sleep all night and it was becoming more and more usual.

That night was no different from the others.

Or, at least, you believed so.

It was around 3 am and you hadn't been able to sleep from hours at this point, thinking about the good old days when Dream used to live with you in his high castle in the Dreaming. How warm were his arms while they were cuddling you during the night and the soft : " I love you y/n, always remember that" before going to sleep. But that night, between the tears and a warm heart for love, you could fall asleep and had a dream. 

But it was not just a simple dream, as you realised. 

You found yourself in a large room, full with columns and made out of stone, which was similar to a crypt. The ceiling was very low and it smelled like a room with closed windows after few people have slept in there... it smelled like humans, close space, smoke and strong feelings

of revenge 

of anger 

of loneliness

but also of hope and 

love 

You would have recognised that smell everywhere.

You turned your head to track the smell and noticed a giant glass ball in the middle of the room, which was sorrounded by a small river and a penthagon as you recognised. A ritual? You didn’t undertsand why you were dreaming that, what were the reasons, so you overstepped the little river and headed to the ball. It was giant and made out of strong glass, unbreakable and it was clearly made out of something with a powerful magical power, which just Lucifer or God themselves would have been able to escape from. 

You were so concentrated and fascinated about the glass, that you didn’t realised that something was in there and was awekening, disturbed by your presence.

“My love? Is that you?”

Your heart stopped beating for a second, as you slowly raised your head to meet two deep eyes, which could easily move your soul and heart.

Morpheus, those eyes were of Dream. 

You started crying uncontrollably as you saw his face, the pain, the distance, the loneliness and the love which hadn’t had a way to manifest for all those years.

“Love,o my god, I have so missed you.. ehi ehi... don’t start crying.. is okay now..I can see you...o my god...” Dream was trying to comfort you while you where crying whitout a way to stop. You were so confused and scared. 

Why was Dream there? How? Was there a way to escape from this prison? For how much long? His eyes were full of sadness but at the same time of joy and love for seeing you. He was naked and you noticed his thin but strong body, his soft silky skin and dark black hair, whose touch you missed so much during your lonely night. 

“How can I help you, my Lord? You have to escape. Now. I will save you and we will return to the Dreaming... please love.. please” you said as you were analysing the glass in order to find a way our for Dream. You were shaking and crying and praying to save him and you didn’t noticed how Morpheus was trying to catch your attention, calling you and waving his hands. 

Just when he yelled at you to stop, you looked at him, confused and with a guilty feeling, catching his dark eyes, as he said to you: 

“Love, stop please. You are just hurting yourself and me, please stop.”

“But you have to escape my Lord, you cannot stay here, not a second anymore, you have to come with me to the Dreaming, you have to return, the realm needs you. Please love, please”

“I cannot escape at the moment, I’m sorry, I would without esitation if I could, i have missed you so much”

“I will find a way, I am here, I can get you out, We just need to find a lever or something like that, a bottom, maybe it is in the upper house, if there is one.. maybe there is a control room or something, I...I... just... must...”

“LOVE STOP!” Dream stopped you from ranting, yelling at you for a second time. “Sweetheart, stop, you will just heart yourself. You are not really here, this is not a dream, it is more like a manifestation, you cannot save nor help me. Stop hurting yourself, please. My soul is suffering seeing you like that. Please, stop.” 

A manifestation? WHAT? You couldn’t belive him. It was not possible, you were not capable of such things. If it was a manifestation, you were just some kind of imagine there, without any power, without any ability, so you tried to touch the water of the near small river, but it remained untouched, without a single change. Your heart cracked. You could not belived that. You turn to Dream and he gave you a small and sad smile

“Is okay Love, the important thing is that you are here with me. Just your sight is enough to heal my soul from this long time of loneliness and distance from your heart. Please, come here, I don’t thing we have much time left. Manifestations are a tricky deceit of the Universe”. 

You slowly moved your body next to the glass to place your hand on his, despite being separated from the glass. 

“How is that possible? I am not capable of such thing, my Lord. If this is not a dream, I don’t know how I did that...”

“Sometimes the Universe gives us, Endless included, little gifts to help us during our lives to not lose hope in it.”

“I have missed you so much my Lord. I feel lonely and empty now that you are gone. The realm is decading and Lucienne is doing all the work in order to keep everyone in peace, although dreams are escaping every day and it is becoming more and more sad living there.” 

“I am sorry my Love for the pain that I have caused to all of you. Right now I cannot escape, but the time will come in which I will be free and I will take revenge for all they have done to me and to you.”

“Yes, my Lord, I believe you, but when? When will it...” 

You stopped suddenly. Something was wrong. You couldn’t feel the glass anymore and the room around you was fading. 

“NO, NO IT IS TOO SOON , PLEASE” you shout. 

“LOVE LOVE, LOOK AT ME, LISTEN TO ME” Dream yelled. You turn your eyes to him, while a strong wind started to blow, moving the elements in the room; the columns started to fade away, carried by the wind, as a black hole started to create at your back.

 “ I LOVE YOU. REMEMBER THAT. I WILL NEVER ABANDONE YOU OR ANYONE ELSE, BUT ESPECIALLY YOU. YOU ARE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, I CANNOT EXIST WITHOUT YOU AND I WILL RETURN. PLEASE “ Dream was shouting and you could see the tears forming in his eyes as you were slowly fading away. 

You tried to resist but the Universe gives just a little time to rebuilt hope and love and your time has run out. 

Before dissapering, the last thing you saw were his eyes and his lips saying : 

I love you Darling, remember that. 

You woke up in your bed, sweating, crying and shouting, as Lucienne arrived and hugged you, asking what happened and if everything was okay, althought it clearly wasn’t. You cried for hours and Lucienne stayed with you for the enitire night, comforting you, relived by the thought that her Master was still alive and save, if you could say that. 

Lucienne started the next morning, without any sleep, to track the place in which Dream was imprisoned, sending crows and creatures to find him, the ones that were still in the Dreaming. You hope had fully returned and during the lonely night the memory of his eyes and his words was the one thing that made you fell asleep, hoping for another manifestation and encounter with your Lord. 

But it never happened again. The Universe is kind, but not for long time. 

Althought, after 100 years, one morning, during your daily researches in the library to find a way to help Dream, after yet another troubled night, you heard the most soft and loving voice, which you haden’t heard in such a long time...

“Searching for me, my Love?”  

Hello today i was collecting references for sketching purposes and,,, i just-

Look

Look at his face… in such a short moment you can see so so much, the abject terror of the moment, the desperation of breah and what gets me the most is like,, to me at least, he looks heartbroken.

God and the fact you can see the nerve damage has already set in where his face is injured bc his eyebrow isnt moving. The detail of that is insaaaane, like they rlly dont miss a trick with the animation.

this is genuinely one of the reasons i struggle to characterise Vander because how can you see this!!! ^^^

And go back and grab him again

in all timelines in all possibilities only you can show me this