“I Am Six-and-seventy Years Old. I Have Known Viserys Longer Than Any Who Sit At This Table And I Will

Memories (Slash x reader)

Requested:

AHHH okay, so gnr ok. How about a Slash fic, where it's like super duper fluffy and he slow dances with you? i hope you like this ideaaaa, thank u x @eatmyshiftsticky

COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ON A TAGLIST! OR GO TO MY BIO TO ADD YOURSELF TO ONE!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

SONG THE TITLE IS BASED OFF OF:

Memories

////

You smile to yourself as you stare out into the country side. The beautiful hills look like they go on for miles. The summer breeze can be felt going through your hair.

You and Slash just recently settled on this old colonial house in the middle of nowhere.

His days of touring with Guns N' Roses is over. He wanted to settle in something stable in a place that's calming. Your family owned this house for generations, but only visited it to make sure it didn't go into disrepair.

As you stare off into space, your mind wanders into your memories.

The night Slash asked you to marry him was quite possibly the best night of your life. Guns had finally finished Use Your Illusions Pt. 1 and 2. Slash had decided that he'd had enough of Axl's bullshit and wanted to get back into touch with Steven and Izzy.

You had just gotten back to the small apartment you and Slash shared in Los Angeles when he came bursting into the small place.

He took you by surprise by picking you up from behind and spinning around in a circle.

You screamed in surprise, but started to laugh when you realized it was just your dork of a boyfriend. He sat you down, turning you around so that you're facing each other.

"It's time to celebrate!" Slash yelled, taking a ponytail from your wrist. He pulled his hair back so that you could see his face.

"Why's that?" You asked, wrapping your arms around the excited man in front of you.

"I quit the band!"

"You what?" You asked, completely dumbfounded. You thought he loved the band.

"I quit! I can't stand Axl throwing his hissy fits anymore. I came so close to punching him earlier then I just told him I quit. Maybe Steven and Izzy will talk to me again. . ." Slash trailed off.

You sighed. "What about Duff?"

"Oh," Saul laughed. "He quit too."

"So Guns N' Roses is just Axl Rose now?" You laughed.

"Yep. That's what the bastard gets, though," Slash pulled you into a strong embrace. "This is probably the best thing I've done in a while." He pulled away, his beautiful brown eyes lighting up. "Well, second best thing."

"What do you-?"

Before you could finish your question, Saul let go of you completely and was down on one knee. From his pocket he pulled out a blue velvet box. He opened the box to reveal a gorgeous diamond engagement ring. You gasped, tears sprung to your eyes. You covered your mouth with your hand, attempting to stop the tears.

"(Y/N), the last few years with you have been the happiest of my life. You've made me happier than I ever thought I could be. You've been there for me, even when I was shit faced and an absolute dick to you. Not once have you left me over a stupid argument and you've been so understanding. I love you with all of my heart," He said, taking a breath. "With that being said, will you make me the happiest man on Earth and marry me?"

You didn't even have to think about your answer. "Of course!"

With that he got up from the ground and kissed you passionately.

You're pulled out of the sweet memory when you hear Saul calling your name. You don't move. You know he'll find you eventually.

You hear the back door opening. Then the heavy footsteps of the man you love.

Your view of the country was blocked by a head with wild, curly black hair and a top hat on his head. You can't see his eyes because of the round framed sunglasses he has on.

"Hello, beautiful," Saul says happily.

You giggle, reaching forward to tug on the ends of his hair. "Hey, sexy."

He grins at you, just enjoying the view of you. "Okay," Slash says. "Get up."

"Why?" You whine. You're perfectly comfortable in the rocking chair.

"Because I wanna do something."

"Saul."

"Please?"

"Fine."

You get up, your hand locked with Slash's. He pulls you down the porch steps and onto the grass. He pulls you in closely, one hand on your waist and the other interlaced with your hand. You put your free hand on his shoulder, allowing him to lead you in a dance without music. You don't find this odd. He actually does this a lot. You'll just be sitting on the couch and he'll pull you up to slow dance.

He hums an unfamiliar tune in your ear.

"I love you," He says. You can see the grin on his face. "Happy ten year, babe."

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IT'S SO EASY, guns n' roses.

pinned rules masterlist

pairing; guns n' roses x fem!reader

summary; your band, lethality, is the hottest thing that’s hit the sunset strip since mötley crüe and the notorious guns n' roses. after a sensational night playing the whisky a go-go, you to meet a very interesting group of men that take a peculiar liking to you.

warnings; cussing, no use of y/n, alcohol & cigarettes mentioned, veryy dialogue heavy, nothing really happens because i didn’t know if anon wanted it to be romantic/romantic encounter with a band member(s), steven is having fun somewhere else.

word count; 1.6k

a/n; i honestly loved writing this. i had a hard time starting it, but when i got it going i couldn’t stop. i was even considering making this a full fledged fanfic, if anyone would be interested.

requests open, not proofread, based on this ask.

The Whisky was packed, the air thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of sweat. The crowd of people blended into one the further you looked out—was jumping around, their energy feeding into yours as you gripped the mic stand, swinging it around erratically. Your heart pounded with adrenaline as the house lights dim for dramatic effect, and with a deep, intentional breath, you launched into the final chorus of your band, Lethality's, set. Your voice was raw, passionate, and uniquely fresh. The audience erupted, fists pounding in the air, whistling and clapping being heard.

This is what made every sleepless hour, every shitty bar gig worth it. The feeling of the audience, the bass vibrating your core, the drums pounding hard and intentional, the guitar wailing along to your voice. You were in your element. This was everything.

With one last powerful belt, you let the song ring out, clutching the microphone as the sound of your heavy breath mixed with the cheers. A slow, sexy smirk tugged at your lips. They loved you.

You turned, locking eyes with your guitarist, tossing your damp, messy hairy over your shoulder and stepping back from the microphone stand. The applause and whistles followed you offstage, still roaring in your ears as you grabbed a towel and wiped your damp face.

You were shocked that Los Angeles had loved Lethality that much, given that they didn't take to women-led bands very kindly. They often watered them down to being a "woman in Rock" and not a "rockstar." You loathed it, and you be damned if it happened to you. You deserved to be on the same playing field as the rest of these young, dumb, and full of cum men. Not that you honestly wanted to be compared to that, though.

"You really know how to work a crowd," a voice called out.

Your eyes shot up to see an older, chubbier man leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking at you in thought. He nodded towards the dressing rooms. "You've got some serious fans wanting to meet you."

You raise an eyebrow in uncertainty, "Fans?"

The man sends you a shit-eating grin and sniggered, "Yeah. Ever heard of Guns N' Roses?"

For a brief second, your heart skipped a beat as you felt your hands get clammy—but you played it cool, tossing the wet towel onto a nearby beer crate. You exhaled through your nose and ran a hand through your hair. You knew Guns regularly went to the Whisky and other clubs you and your band frequented, and you were bound to run into them, but you still felt extremely nervous. You absolutely adored their newest album, Appetite for Destruction.

"Well," you eventually muttered, rolling your shoulders, "guess I better not keep them waiting, huh?"

With that, you strode down the hall, your heart beating so loudly you could feel it having a concert in your head. The hallway was dimly lit the further you walked down, the sounds of the Whisky still thrumming in the distance. Your heeled boots echoed against the floor as you approached the dressing rooms. Guns N' fucking Roses wanted to see you. You weren't one to get starstruck, you had met some of the best musicians to come out of the strip, but you weren't oblivious either. Part of you was curious, another part cautious. You knew how these men were. Hungry for sex, drugs, and dabbled in Rock 'n' Roll when the job called for it. You also weren't one to get caught up in the rock mystique. Yet, if they had something to say, you were damn sure going to hear it.

You reached the dressing room door and took a steadying breath. You took a second to smooth your hair and shake out the last of your post-show adrenaline. Then, you pushed it open.

The room was buzzing with soft conversation. The scent of fresh leather, whiskey, and cigarette smoke hung in the air. The ginger lead singer, Axl Rose, was the first of the four to look up, reclining in his chair, a drink idly dangling from his fingers. His sharp hazel eyes flickered with something unreadable as he took your figure in. Slash was perched on the couch, lazily tapping ash from his cigarette, while Duff and Izzy leaned back in conversation, their laughter cutting off the second you entered. Instantly, you noticed the lack of their drummer, Steven Adler. Huh.

Four pairs of beady eyes locked onto you.

"Well, well," Duff spoke up, giving a slow, acknowleding nod. "The woman of the hour."

You smirked, stepping inside with your arms crossed. "Didn't realize I was on your schedule."

Axl's lips curled into something between amusement and intrigue. "You weren't. But we couldn't ignore what we just saw out there," he tilted his head, studying you. "You don't just perform—you own that stage."

The way Axl said it wasn't flattery. On the contrary, it was a statement. A challenge, maybe. You couldn’t tell. Not yet, anyway.

You met his gaze without flinching, a newfound confidence overtaking you. "That's the job, isn't it?"

To your right, Slash chuckled, flicking his cigarette once more. "Yeah, but most people don't do it like that." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his leathered knees. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

You shrugged, "Same story as everyone else. Small-town band, a lot of shitty gigs, and too much cheap beer."

Axl smirked at that you noticed. He must've liked that reply, you thought.

"Not everyone makes it out of that."

Something about the way he said it made the air feel heavier, just for a beat. You could feel them sizing you up, trying to figure out if you were just another wannabe act, or something more. Maybe they were checking you out, who fucking knows?

You glanced around, then raised an amused brow. "So, you dragged me in here just to stroke my ego, or is there something else?"

Axl took a swig of his liquor, sliding his arm onto the armrest. "Maybe both."

Axl's words hung in the air, stretching the moment just long enough for you to feel the weight of their attention. You didn't mind it—if anything, you were used to being watched, analyzed, judged. But this? This was different.

Slash took a slow, tentative drag off of his cigarette, exhaling a thin breath of smoke before speaking again. "How long have you been playing as a band?"

You walked over to the other side of the couch he sat on, your eyes not leaving his hidden ones. "Long enough to know what I'm doing."

That earned a chuckle from Duff. "Yeah, we picked up on that, Susie-Q."

Izzy, who had been quiet until now, studied you with that easy, unreadable gaze. "Your sound's different. It's not just your voice—it's the way you hold a crowd. Who are your influences?"

You shrugged, "A little of everyone."

Axl chuckled and swirled the whiskey in his glass. "That's the safe answer," he retorted, clicking his tongue in amusement.

"Safe," you echoed with a knowing, smug smile, "or just true?"

That got a reaction—albeit a small one—a flicker of something behind Axl's eyes. The kind of interest that wasn't politeness. He wasn't just shooting the shit with you. None of them were. They had intentions—intentions you were unsure of.

Slash tilted his head softly, "You got a label yet?"

"Not one worth signing to," you replied smoothly as you shook your head.

Izzy and Duff exchanged what felt like their tenth glance of the night. Axl's smirk deepened as you quietly let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You were very nervous, after all.

"Good," Axl clicked his tongue, "means you're not an idiot."

You huffed a quiet laugh, "I try."

This whole conversation had your mind reeling: panic mode on. This was going nowhere, and you didn't really come here to get drilled about your music. They didn't even ask to see the rest of Lethality, just you. You weren't sure what to expect when walking backstage, but being rallied up by Guns wasn't it. Their gaze was still on you, making you feel small. You look at Axl from across the room—the gears in his head were moving. You soon realized that never meant anything good.

Axl turned his head to look at you dead on. "So, what's next for you?"

You met his gaze without hesitation, your eyebrows furrowing. "Why? You planning to keep tabs on me?"

Slash grinned, putting out his cigarette in the steel ashtray on the coffee table. "Wouldn't be the worst idea. Not every night we someone actually own the stage instead of just.. standing on it."

Duff gestured towards you with his beer bottle. "Crowd was losing their fucking minds. You got 'em wrapped around your pretty little finger."

You shrugged. “Like I said, that’s the job.”

“And like Slash said, most people don’t get that. They think it’s just about playing the songs.” Izzy eyed you, like he was still trying to figure you out. He motioned towards you as he pulled out a Marlboro from his pack. “You’ve got something else.”

Axl let out a low chuckle and cleared his throat while shaking his head slightly. Then, he raised his glass. “Right. Here’s to whatever the fuck happens next.”

Your eyes flicked to the band’s whiskey bottle on the table. Without a word, you picked it up, twisted off the cap, and took a deep gulp before setting it back down on the coffee table with a quiet, gentle clink.

“You’ll be seeing more of Lethality,” you said simply.

Slash huffed a quiet laugh. “Good. Scene’s getting boring.”

Duff nodded in agreement. “Listen—If you keep playing like that, you won’t be stuck in clubs forever.”

Izzy didn’t say anything, just gave a small, knowing smirk.

Axl’s gaze lingered for a second longer before he set his now empty glass down. “Guess we’ll have to just wait and fucking see.”

The conversation shifted, drinks flowed, and the night stretched on. Whatever this was—whatever had started here—you had a small feeling burning deep inside that this was just the beginning.

© lagunned (2025—) all rights reserved.

We got married | dk masterlist [COMPLETE]

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: seokmin x reader Genre: fluff Rating: PG-13

Note: this fic is 4 years in the making and i just managed to have it done 😃🤚🏻 once all is posted, see y’all in another 2 years idk hahaha

summary: WE GOT MARRIED is back. Seokmin and you pair up to shoot 10 episodes for a special. Turns out, there are more things happenings off-camera than what meets the eye.

pre-production

episode 1

episode 2

episode 3

episode 4

episode 5

episode 6

episode 7

episode 8

episode 9

last episode.

Ain’t No Rockstar: Part two

A/n: I finally got around to writing the second part!!!! This didn’t turn out the way I thought it would, then again I’m not sure how I wanted it to turn out. But now I think the series will be just a little bit longer because I think I know what I want now. Anyway, if you didn’t know, I’m thinking of expanding who I write for and if you have any ideas, I’m all ears.

*~~*~~*

Masterlist

Slash x Reader

Part one

Summary:  Y/n was nothing more than a stressed out makeup artist, at least that all she thought she was. It turns out that she was more than that to one member of the band she was working for. Not only would she have to navigate both his and her feelings, but she would also have to find the courage to seize what she wanted before it disappeared.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Language, fluff, grammar ( I didn’t feel like editing)

Fingers running over the strings, Y/n sucked in a breath as she stared out in front of her. It was late, nearly one in the morning, and she couldn’t sleep. She thought that pulling out her guitar and playing a few cords would help pass time, but it didn’t. Once the instrument was in her hands, she froze. Any tune, any melody, anything that she knew vanished when she tried to play it. 

It had been like that for weeks now. Of course, she didn’t have much time to pull out the guitar, between doing hair and listening to the band whine, there was just never enough time. The last time she had been able to pluck at the strings was when Slash walked in on her on the tour bus. But that had been weeks ago and she wasn’t sure what changed, what caused her to tense up when she tried to run her fingers along the strings.

“Fuck,” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes and setting the guitar on the bed.

Y/n knew what was eating at her but she didn’t want to admit it. It was foolish and she knew that she shouldn’t have let it get to her, but she couldn’t help it. Looking in the mirror every day, she hated the person that stared back at her. It wasn’t her looks, though they had been weathered by tour, it was who she had become. 

Before ever hearing the name Guns n’ Roses, Y/n was a happy girl. Like most, she was young and trying to figure out where she belonged. She dreamed of being a singer, she was quite good and knew her way around a handful of instruments, but that wasn’t good enough. In L.A., mere talent didn’t get you anywhere because there were ten other people who could do the same thing. How could she compete with that? How could she compete with hundreds of other people that were either as good as her or better? Everyone was looking for their big break, making it hard for her to find her’s. 

So, that dream had to be put on the back burner. It was still boiling hot, waiting for someone to take care of it, but it wasn’t a priority. What she needed was money, not the belief that her time would come. Because what if it never did? 

So she settled. 

It seemed that was the worst thing she could ever do as she stared out the hotel window. She settled for shit. Being a makeup artist wasn’t all it was cracked up to be and she had the honor of finding that out the hard way. If only she had picked a different band, there were countless out there that needed a makeup artist, instead of the one she was stuck with.

“Maybe I’ll go for a walk.” She pushed herself off the bed and stumbled through the dark to find decent clothes to put on.

Y/n wandered out into the hallway and walked through the lobby to be met by the brisk night air. It bite at her cheeks, causing her to wrap her jacket tightly around herself. Walking out into the parking lot, she caught a glimpse of a figure leaning against the tour bus. It was hard to make up in the darkness, but she was sure she knew who it was.

Walking closer, the little light that the moon provided illuminated the figure enough to prove her right.

“Slash?” she asked hesitantly, just as there was every chance she was right there was also every chance that she was wrong.

The man, who had been gazing up at the stars, looked down at her. “Couldn’t sleep?” was his response.

Y/n shrugged, moving to stand beside him. Few stars could be seen due to light pollution, but the few that were visible were breathtaking.

“Why aren’t you out partying with the boys?” she asked after a few minutes of silence engulfed them.

Slash shook his head, running a hand through his hair to move it away from his face. “Not in the mood tonight. Plus, Axl’s been acting like an asshole all day.”

She nodded, understanding that all too well. Axl was the worst for her to deal with out of all the boys. He acted entitled all the time like everyone owed him something, and his outbursts were dangerous. There were many times when the band’s manager had to pay for the damages the frontman had done to a dressing room.

“Why are you out here? Don’t you like your beauty sleep?” the guitarist asked her, turning his attention back to the sky above.

Beauty sleep, please. She hadn’t had any of that in a long ass time. 

“It’s hard to get beauty sleep when you can’t seem to go to sleep,” she told him, leaning against the cold exterior of the bus.

He hummed in agreement, wondering what could keep her up at night. Slash knew she was unhappy with where she found herself - stuck with a bunch of wild boys. Though, Y/n never stated such a thing, her expressions always showed it. There was never joy in her eyes when she did a task, when she teased Duff’s hair or when she powdered Izzy’s face. Even her smiles never met her eyes. It saddened him that she was so miserable, no one deserved that.

“How’s the guitar going?” He knew that was about the only thing that made her happy. Just thinking back to the day he walked in on her on the bus brought a smile to his face. She looked in her element with a guitar nestled in her arms.

“It’s going, I guess.” Y/n looked at him to find that he was watching her fiddle with her hands. “Can I be honest with you?”

The man nodded, fully turning his body towards her to give her his undivided attention. 

 “I haven’t really been able to sleep in weeks. I’ve tried everything and I mean everything. Nothing works and I just lay awake at night starring at the ceiling.” She sighed, running a hand over her face. “I can’t even play the fucking guitar anymore. I literally sit for hours, fucking hours, with it and I can’t do anything. It’s frustrating!”

“You push yourself too much.”

“What?”

Slash laughed, “Y/n, you push yourself too much. I know you don’t enjoy doing our hair and makeup.” Her eyes went wide, she hadn’t known she made it that clear. “It’s alright, I wouldn’t want to either, we are a bunch of assholes. But you clearly are struggling with yourself. Hey, I’ve been there before, so I know it’s not easy.”

He was right, she was pushing herself too much. She was pushing to find something better, to dig herself out of the hole she’d fallen into. Sure, it wasn’t bad, it was great compared to where other people found themselves, but it wasn’t where she wanted to be. And if pushing herself mental to be better, to picture what she wanted, was how she found something better than so be it.

“Does it get better?” Y/n wondered. “Because right now I feel that pushing myself in any direction is better than not doing anything. It makes me feel like I’m getting somewhere.”

He sighed, that was a good question.

“It’s alright if it doesn’t, though,” she told him with a sad smile. “If I burn out over this than who cares, right?”

“I care.”

Y/n bite her lip, turning to the curly-haired musician. “What?”

They weren’t friends, she didn’t want to be friends with the band. They were a bunch of animals that weren’t worth her time, but then there was Slash. After he’d walked onto the bus that one day her views of him changed. In an instant, they were altered and she was unable to get him off her mind. But she would have never thought that he remotely thought about her in any way.

He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure what to say. Should he confess his feels or brush it off that she was important to the band? Y/n was important, without her the band would look like a bunch of pigs. But he’d had feelings for her for a long time and didn’t know how or when to tell her about them. Slash was sure she wouldn’t return them, he’d seen the way she looked at him and the boys, there was no way he stood a chance.

“Can I be honest now?” 

Y/n nodded, hoping that he would explain.

“I care if you burn out, Y/n.” He looked her in the eye, stepping a little closer to her. “I care because I’ve liked you for a while and I just didn’t know how to tell you. I see how you look at us, you’re disgusted by all of us and I understand if you want nothing to do with me, but I care if something happens to you.”

Y/n looked into his deep brown eyes, trying to find the lie. She hoped he wasn’t just saying that, that it wasn’t just something people say to make others feel better. But as she looked her over, nothing changed, his statement didn’t waver. 

Her lips turned into a small smile, “What if I felt the same? What then?”

“Well, there’s plenty of things we can do then,” he told her, bring his hand up to cup her cheek. “But I think first we should get you to bed.”

The bags under her eyes were finally visible as the moon moved overhead and it was finally evident that she hadn’t been getting much sleep.

She nodded, leaning into his touch. “Sounds good to me.”

Throwing an arm over her shoulder, the two walked back into the hotel.

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

(Let me know if you want to be added to either taglist and feedback would be appreciated.)

Permanent Taglist: @rexorangecouny @jennyggggrrr @zestygingergirl @slash-me-up @tommyleeownsme @sheldonsherlocktony @teller258316

Ain’t No Rockstar Taglist: @snatchedbylele 

Me thinking about Namor all day

HOTD ♱ TATBILB! ℳASTERLIST

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ YEARS AFTER THE DANCE OF THE DRAGONS you found an old box buried in the farthest corner underneath your bed containing all the love letters that you’ve written but never dared to sent. which only leaves you wondering for what could have been . . .

𝒫AIRING. . . multi!hotd!characters x fem!targ!reader

𝒢ENRE. . . romance, fluff, angst, series

𝒲ARNINGS. . . profanity, further warnings will be added to each chapter

ℐOAEZZ. . . i hope i'll have enough energy + motivation to finish this one day but i doubt it. these stories can be read as a standalone but i suggest reading it in the order that is published bc it’ll make more sense. note: this is only very vaguely based on to all the boys i’ve loved before so it won’t follow the story line of the movies. i also wanted to mention that there’ll be two story lines; one where reader is rhaenyra’s sister and another where she’s daemon’s daughter so i can include more characters.

001 ℒETTERS ℒEFT 𝒮EALED prologue

002 𝒮CREAMS 𝒜ND 𝒟REAMS gwayne h.

003 𝒩O 𝒪THER ℒOVE harwin s.

004 ℳIDNIGHT ℒOVE alicent h.

005 𝒜 𝒮UNDAY 𝒦IND 𝒪F ℒOVE end part one

006 ℐ ℒOVE ℋOW 𝒴OU ℒOVE ℳE cregan s.

007 𝒩EVERMORE helaena t.

008 ℐ 𝒻ALL ℐN ℒOVE 𝒯OO ℰASILY lucerys v.

009 𝒪PERA ℋOUSE jacaerys v.

010 𝒜LWAYS 𝒻OREVER benjicot b.

011 𝒫OETRY ℳOTION end part two

to all the boys i’ve loved before © ioaezz, 2024.

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 7 - Ozzie's

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

It's a date! (But is it really?)

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word count: 5,212

Warnings: you ask blitz to not be a dick and what does he do? yeah he's a bit of a dick. a big reveal abt reader's past (will be explored more in depth later), terrible just awful communication skills.

Alright, however much blood you got on yourself, business today was kind of pretty fucking awesome. 

The four of you walk through the portal, all still riding high on the adrenaline rush the day’s kills provided you. Blitzø’s the first to set foot back into the office, throwing his head back and brandishing his new axe around. “Woo! That was a fuckton of lumberjacks!” 

There were eleven of them, to be exact.

Moxxie walks in right after him, looking a little too excited as he held up a chainsaw, still on and rumbling.

Millie’s next, covered in more blood than anyone else, as usual- clearly in a great mood, going as far as biting the wooden handle of the axe she was holding in half.  “Ahh! I’m still so jazzed up!” 

You walk in last, examining the huge new knife you got for yourself, pleased. Nothing like putting down five huge-ass dudes on your own and getting a cool new knife for your collection to get you in a good mood. 

Moxxie discards the chainsaw into the portal, and Loona closes it off. “Well, you better stay jazzed up, babe,” he tells Millie, shooting finger guns at her. “‘Cause guess where I’m taking you tonight?”

“Don’t you dare finish a filthy pun in my presence, Moxxie! Besides, drinks are on me tonight! Let’s hit up the new drive down the street,” Blitzø suggests, excited.

Moxxie looks down to the floor, then back at him. “Actually, sir, it’s our one year marriage anniversary, so I’m taking Millie to Ozzie’s, all the way down in the Lust Ring!” He announces, proud of himself. 

Millie’s eyes immediately light up, and she gasps in excitement at the revelation. “Ozzie’s? No way! That place is always booked.”

Yeah, you should know that. In fact, you already knew Moxxie was taking her there, too- he’d approached you the previous week, asking if you could do him a ‘big favor’. You didn’t know what to expect of this supposed big favor, but when he asked if you could maybe call Ozzie personally and arrange him and Millie a reservation for their anniversary, you let out a laugh.

“Oh, that’s it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Of course I can, Mox, are you kidding?”

“That’s awesome!” He’d hugged you tight. “Thank you so, so much, y/n!”

You smile, pleased with Millie’s reaction. You knew she’d love it. Moxxie had mentioned he’d tell her you’d helped, but you’d told him not to, leaving all the credit for him. He deserved it. 

He sends you a thankful glance when Millie squeaks out his name and quite literally jumps on him, kissing him all over. The scene is so sweet it’s almost gross. 

“Ugh, can you two not?” Blitzø complains.

Moxxie’s out of breath when he pulls away, looking a little high-headed after the distraction. “I’m sorry, sir. Maybe another time!” 

“Oh, it’s fine! I- I can come with the two of  you, help you celebrate your boring-as-fuck-monogamy.”

There’s no way he just seriously suggested that. “What? Dude. No.”

Moxxie matches your tone. “Yeah. No.The reservation is for us.”

“Uh-huh,” Blitzø agrees, nodding, as if that changes absolutely nothing to him. Did he genuinely not get the hint or is he playing dumb at this point?

“Just. Us. Millie and I.”

“Uh-huh,” he repeats, still nodding as if he doesn’t see the issue. 

“Without you there. Explicitly without you there.”

He completely disregards Moxxie’s words. “I’ll wear something nice. It’s a big deal after all.” Ah, got it. Playing dumb.

Moxxie’s left eye twitches at his attitude, but, in turn, he just turns around, walking towards the door. “You want a ride or not?” He turns back around to ask you, and you try to shoot Moxxie a reassuring look that’s meant to say you’ll get some sense through his skull before you follow him out. “See you lovebugs later!”

You start scolding him as soon as you get to the parking lot. “Could you be any more inconvenient?”

“The fuck do you mean?” 

“The fuck do I mean? They don’t want you there, Blitz. It’s their anniversary. Whatever fantasies you have about them don’t make you a part of their relationship, you realize that, don’t you?” The two of you get to the van, and he unlocks the doors so you can get in before he says anything in return.

“Fuck you, I made that couple happen, bitch. I deserve to be part of this ‘anniversary dinner’. And you do too, I know there ain’t no way Moxxie got that reservation without your help.”

“Yeah and that one-hundred percent does not give me any right to crash their date. Don’t you fucking go to Ozzie’s tonight. You hear me?”

“Oh yeah keep telling me what to do baby, I’m almost there!” He exaggerates.

“I’m so serious right now.”

Blitzø scoffs at your threatening tone. “Don’t remember you being the boss of me.”

“I am telling you, as a friend, that you’re being inconvenient. They’ll get pissed at you and they’ll be right to.”

“Yeah well I don’t fucking care.”

“Come on Blitz, just give them a break. I’ll even go with you to that place you wanted to go!” You try. 

“Really?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun. And very far from Millie and Mox so they can enjoy their night out alone,” you make sure to point out.

“Fine. Whatever.”

Blitzø drops you off at your apartment so you can get ready with a yell of ‘be quick we don’t have all night!’ as he drives off, going home himself to shower and change too before he’s back to pick you up. 

“If I didn’t know you I’d think you’re dressing to impress me here,” he raises an eyebrow suggestively as he gives you a very exaggerated once-over.

“Yeah in your dreams maybe,” you retort immediately, used to his comments by now, as you get into the passenger seat.

“Oh my dreams about you don’t involve any clothes what-so-ever.”

“Gross.”

He shrugs. “Ready?”

“Sure. What’s the place called again?”

“Uuuuhh, don’t worry about it. We’re going somewhere new.”

You notice he’s extra chatty during the ride, talking your ear off and turning up the radio so the two of you can sing the songs out. You realize why he was going out of his way to distract you when suddenly you take a look out the window and recognize the neighborhood. 

He’s taken you to the Lust Ring, and it’s not very hard to imagine why when he parks just a couple blocks from Ozzie’s. You feel disappointed, and honestly a little naive, to have thought he’d take you to a fun night out instead of just doing whatever he wanted to do. 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? This is the one place I said, repeatedly, that we couldn’t go!”

“Oh, boo-hoo, so I’m taking you out on a nice fucking fancy-ass dinner, what a terrible fucking thing to do!”

“Except you’re not taking me out, you just don’t know your fucking boundaries and you wanna spend your sorry-ass night spying on Millie and Moxxie.”

“Eh. Potato, potato.”

“You pronounced it the exact same.”

He shrugs. 

“We’re leaving.”

“What? No!”

“Well I am. And you don’t have a reservation,” you point out, trying to make it clear he’s not getting in. Did he only bring you out with him in the hopes you’d manage to get him a table by pulling some strings? “And you can’t get in without a date so sucks to be you.”

“Well I’m not taking you anywhere,” he crosses his arms over his chest, matter-of-factly.

“‘Course you’re fucking not. We were supposed to just have some fun tonight. I can’t believe this. You’re a fucking prick, you know that, right?” You let your frustration spill out in your words, and you pull your phone out to see if you can find a ride on Reaper, not in the mood to be out anymore and desperately wanting to get back home at this point.

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re a whiny bitch but I don’t keep telling you that, do I?”

You send him a dirty look, sitting on the curb as you wait for the app to find you a car, and he fucks off to the alleyway behind you to do Satan-knows-what. After a while, still down on your luck with the ride, you’re startled when a portal is opened only a couple feet in front of you, and it takes you a couple seconds to register the fact that it’s Stolas who walks out of it. 

“Stolas?”

“Stolaaass!” Blitzø calls out, as if already expecting him. Was he already expecting him? Is this what you thought it was- you telling him you wouldn’t get into Ozzie’s with him and him just calling Stolas up, simple as ever, to fulfill that role instead?

“What are you doing here?” You ask the prince, not really meaning to sound rude, but it comes out demanding of an answer regardless, and he tilts his head to the side, as if confused by the fact that you apparently didn’t know he’d be coming.

“Wow. Outfit’s a little overkill, don’t ya think?” Blitzø tells him, and you resist the urge to pettily flick at his forehead at the lack of common sense. Why the fuck would you say that?

Stolas looks down to the floor, embarrassed. “Did you… not know I was coming, y/n?”

“No. Did Blitzø call you here?”

“Yes, I- I assumed-” He looks at Blitzø, now referring to the comment about his outfit as well. “I wanted to look nicer for you. This is our first real date, after all… right?” he explains himself, motioning between the three of you.

“A date?” You whip your head around to look at Blitzø. That’s what he told Stolas this was?

“Surprise! We’re having a date!”

“Blitz I swear to Satan, this is so out of pocket-”

“Is something not right, y/n?” Stolas asks, and it completely disarms you. He seems so genuinely excited about this ‘date’ that you can’t get yourself to ruin it for him by revealing what only you knew- that what he thought was a date was just a selfish ploy for Blitzø to spy on Millie and Moxxie for whatever fucking reason he had.

And so you find yourself reassuring him. “No. Not at all.”

“Ya still wanna leave now?” Blitzø whispers, all cocky and annoying and- fuck, he can just be so stubborn it’s insufferable sometimes. You grit your teeth but say nothing in return, and the three of you walk up to the stairs by the entrance. 

You don’t recognize the incubus who greets you. Must be new. He eyes the three of you up and down, as if trying to gather how the fuck this whole thing happened. “Y’all three together?” He asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Stolas tells him. 

“Alrightt, that’s fucking hot! Y’all got a reservation?”

Before you can even think of telling him to talk to Ozzie, Stolas speaks up again. “Do we need one?” He asks, glaring at the man, as if challenging him to say yes. The man gulps before opening a smile and bowing at him. “No! Uh, shit, my apologies, Your Highness. Right this way.”

You feel the ever-growing urge to facepalm as hard as you possibly can the very second you enter the lounge, because Blitzø immediately starts sneaking around the place like he’s a character in some low-budget spy movie. 

Stolas looks around the place, mesmerized. “Oh, my! Oh, no! No, but also yes!” He’s been there countless times (you should know), but only then do you realize he’s never stayed or even visited for matters that weren’t aligned with his royal duties. He’s stupid rich and he’s never dined at Ozzie’s?

Oh.

He’s only ever been with that wife of his before you and Blitzø happened. And- oh, fuck. Was this his first ever date? Shit.

You pull Blitzø down to whisper to him as you walk to your table. “Blitz, you’re gonna be fucking nice tonight, alright?”

“Hey I’m always a fucking delight!”

“I’m serious. I think he’s never been on a date before.”

“What? That’s not true.”

“Look he’s clearly excited to be here, please don’t be a dick, okay?”

“You calling me that for free?”

“The outfit comment was not cool.”

“Oh you guys are so fucking sensitive.” He dismisses your words, sitting down on the chair that had been arranged for him, a couple books placed on the seat so his height could be aligned properly with the round table’s.

Stolas is beaming as soon as the three of you sit down. “Oh, how romantic is this? I have never stayed here longer than I needed to. It’s so charming!”

“Yeah, it sounded like- I just thought we’d have a blast here,” Blitzø tells him, barely present in the conversation as he pulls out his goddamn fucking binoculars out of his pocket, surely trying to find out where Millie and Moxxie were seated. 

“Uh, yeah. It’s lovely, right? And it’s where I met both of you! Isn’t that so nice, Blitz?” You kick him under the table, and he shoots you a dirty glare before turning back around. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a real romantic- oh gotcha!”

Stolas tilts his head to the side, trying to figure out what is happening. “Uh, Blitz, what are you looking at?”

“I’m looking at nothing. How about that?” So much for not being a dick. Luckily, a server approaches the table just then, averting Stolas’ attention from Blitzø. 

“So, can I get you three off?” She takes a long pause before ‘correcting’ herself. “I mean, start you three off with some drinks?” It actually was normal taught practice for the ‘slip-ups’ to happen- you should know, you trained countless servers during your time there. It still makes Stolas blush out of embarrassment, caught off-guard by it.

“Yes! Um, perhaps some… wine, to share?” He glances at you, and you smile at him, nodding in agreement. “Blitz?” 

“What?”

“Would you like some wine, too?”

“Yeah why not?”

“Do you prefer red or white? Or perhaps some champagne?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Blitzø replies dryly, very clearly barely paying any attention to what was said to him as he didn’t even bother turning around to face the two of you.

“Uh- I- uh-”

“What if we-” you begin, trying to help Stolas not freak out.

“Perhaps we should order all three! Ha! Why not?” He suggests, and it sort of sounds like he is sort of freaking out, but you don’t argue. 

“Yeah that sounds good.”

“So! How was the day at I.M.P.?” Stolas tries. 

“Oh? Uh, it was good, I guess. We killed a bunch of beardos. She can tell you about it,” Blitzø tells him, this time sparing one single glance back and pointing vaguely at you. How thoughtful.

“Oh?”

“Uh, business was pretty good today. What he meant with killing a bunch of beardos is that we had more targets than usual, which is good. They just happened to be a bunch of lumberjacks, strangely enough. But I’m sure you don’t wanna hear about us killing people, right?”

“No! It sounds like fun!” It definitely didn’t look like he thought so, but rather that he was desperately trying to build a connection. One that Blitzø currently didn’t seem to give a flying fuck about. “Uh, how did you kill them?”

The question at least seemed to pique Blitzø’s interest, as he actually turns around and puts down the binoculars to answer it. “How? I mean, there was a lot of ‘em, so… bullets?”

“Right! Right. So… what made you decide to plan a date after all this time?”

Shit. “Uuuuuuhhh…” Blitzø scratches the back of his head, trying to think of what to say. Fuck, don’t be a dick, don’t be a dick, don’t-

Thankfully, for all of you, you’re sure, he doesn’t get to finish whatever he was about to try and say, as the lights dim and Fizzarolli’s voice sounds through the lounge. “Ladies and gentlemen! I see some sexy faces around here tonight.” He descends down the pole right in the middle of the stage, and you notice his greeting routine sounds different. It’s a weird feeling to see so much change since you left. “Welcome, welcome to Ozzie’s, Lust Ring’s number one place for all kinds of sick, twisted fantasies, put on display for all you sleaze and sleazettes, the gem joint of Asmodeus himself. Come on, give him some love!”

“Did he just say Asmodeus?” Stolas questions out loud.

“He likes to make an appearance sometimes,” you explain, but, internally, it made you nervous. You did not need Ozzie to see you on a date tonight.

Stolas nods, and Blitzø lets out a groan. “Oh, no fucking way. Not him!” He hides his face behind the menu that had been placed in front of him, and he’s still never told you what happened between him and Fizz, but that has to be a bit dramatic, doesn't it? 

“I am the one and only Fizzarolli.” The clown continues, pulling up a Loo Loo Land flyer with his robotic version, ‘Robo Fizz’, on it. “Some of you might recognize this dashing clown face from my numerous replicas across the rings of Hell, gloriously designed by the big man himself, and uh,” he traces his hand up his own robotic arm in a rather suggestive way, “ribbed for your pleasure tonight. We have a great lineup for you tonight: Verosika Mayday, Wet Dream, and The Squirters!” 

The lights shine on them, and suddenly you understand Blitzø’s need to hide. “Shit, she’s here?”

“Do you know her?” Stolas asks you, and you don’t reply.

“But as everyone’s warming up, I got a funny one for y’all!” Fizz keeps on. “Did any of you hear about the batshittery that happened at Loo Loo Land?” He laughs. “Oh yeah, I’ll tell you what, I’d sure love to shake the hand of the crazy son of a bitch who decided to burn down that off-brand shithole, and then slap a fat subpoena in it, ‘cause I’m very much looking to sue. That robo-me made us more money entertaining those kids than the ones we sell to get you freaks off, if you know what I mean.”

Someone in the lounge stands up from their seat, waving their hand around. “I know! I know what you mean! I have four of ‘em!” They announce, loud and proud, and you realize their date is one of those. It’s freaky enough for you to know security’s sure to keep an eye on them for the rest of the night to make sure they stay far away from Fizzarolli.

“So! Without wasting more time! Our little opening act is a fresh one, coming at us from a little imp from the Wrath Ring. Give it up for… Moxxie! With no creative stage name whatsoever.”

Moxxie stands up, taking his guitar with him, and kisses Millie before taking Fizzarolli’s place on the stage. That he hadn’t told you about, and knowing it was probably because he wanted to keep that moment to themselves makes you feel shitty about being there. He taps the mic before speaking. “Hello, everyone. Um. Hi. Thank you for letting me be here. It’s an honor to play.” Someone yells at him to hurry up, and he looks a bit nervous at it before he keeps on. “This song is for my beautiful wife, a surprise for our first anniversary. I love you, Millie.”

I love you More than the brimstone loves the fire, more than beelze loves her bub, more than a maggot loves gangrenous stubs You make my spirit sing Yeah, you make me glad I live in Hell Our love is a story sweet to tell Yeah, you cast a special Satanic spell over my heart Love is a journey we decided to start Yeah, I hope we’ll never, ever be apart I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I-

Shit, Moxxie.

If he had told you about this, you would have warned him Ozzie’s was not the right place to perform a love song. But he didn’t, and so…

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,”, Ozzie and Fizz sang along, making their way onto the stage, very clearly mocking and laughing at him. 

Who’s singing love songs in my lustful lounge?

So Ozzie was performing tonight. Must be in a good mood. 

Ozzie’s ain’t the place for sentimental sounds!

What’d you expect from a proprietor like us?

Your demon host, Asmodeus, the embodiment of lust…

Give me a thrust! Show me some lust! From the groin to the bust, in desire we trust, in the House of Asmodeus

Trumpet! Gah!

Little imp, you came here to sing your serenade Perform your feelings in the velvety stage Well, we got a saying that’s popular in these parts

‘Only little bitches strum the strings of their hearts’

You wanna hang around this lustful town? Ditch the lovey-dovey before we knock you around

How hypocritical.

In here we sing about wants and desires

Depravity, savagery, loins hotter than fire!

So give me a thrust Show me some lust From the groin to the bust Little imp, you just must In the House of Asmodeus Come on, sing us a song! Make sure the subject is getting it on Make it graphic and tactfully long

Make sure to rhyme ‘thong’ and ‘schlong’!

Go ahead, the mic’s on!

After a good while of tossing Moxxie around as Ozzie and Fizz sang, they set the mic in front of him once again. He takes a deep breath before strumming his guitar and giving it a try.

I want to 

Yeah, what do you want? Butt stuff? Piss play? Bondage?

Make gentle love to you

Oh, Moxxie. 

Ugh, what a limp-dick imp, you’re really killing the vibe Get a load of this dweeb and his unsatisfied bride!

Blitzø stands up from his seat. Why the fuck is he standing up from his seat? 

“Hey now, I’ve watched those two pork many times, and, honestly, they make missionary look relatively exciting!” 

You should have known he’d feel the need to try and defend them in some way, but this was really, really not a good idea. If you didn’t want any of your friends to see you there up until then, now he’d managed to basically call out for their attention. 

“What? Blitz!” Moxxie yells out, as if he can’t believe he’s actually there. His eyes find you too, and he furrows his eyebrows together. You feel ashamed that you ended up there, and even more so that his moment was getting ruined in so many ways.

Fizzarolli opens a grin. “Is that Blitzo? So you’re showing your face?”

Hey, everybody!  This guy’s a total disgrace Some nerve you got to comment on a relationship Last I checked, your love life is a pile of shit!

As if things couldn’t get any worse, Verosika stands up, the lights immediately panning to her, and she joins in. 

Oh, Blitzo? I used to date him 

“Oh, Verosika, you’re here.”

I’d stroke him, I’d fellate him But when it was my turn He did no reciprocating  A selfish imp in the sheets  And just as bad on the streets A reckless, heart-breaking freak

You silently pray to Lucifer for her to not see you, or just not mention you, or-

“Oh am I interrupting your date, y/n?” She spits out. 

I should have known it I should have guessed you’re not above it  How long left till they’re abandoned? Do they know they’re not your standard?  The prince would better watch out Just get too close and he’s out Give it some time, she’ll flake out

You look down at your hands over your lap and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Stolas looks between you and Blitzø, trying to assimilate what just happened. “Did the both of you date her?”

Who’s that at your table? Is your date a demon prince? Stolas, is that you?

Are you sleeping with an imp?

My dark lord, how the mighty do fall! You used to have a smoking wife, a kid, you had it all! I hope you didn’t give it up so they could help you get it up…

Stolas hides his face behind the menu, not unlike Blitzø had done earlier, like he’s… embarrassed to be called out for being on a date with the two of you. It feels like a gut punch, to come down to the realization that, yeah, of course he’s embarrassed, he’s a prince, for Lucifer’s sake. 

Your eyes feel like they’re burning, and you have to hold back tears from streaming down your face. 

You sold your life for a thrust! Now that’s the spirit of Lust Grab your groin or a bust You better get your hair mussed Pretend you don’t see that crust Hump ‘till your junk turns to dust In the House of Asmode-

You stand up in preoccupation for Millie when she simply knocks Fizzarolli down to the ground. 

“Hey!” Ozzie exclaims, helping Fizz get up. You see the rage in his eyes- Millie was crazy to have done that- and he looks back at you. The worry in your expression and the furious shaking of your head, wordlessly asking him not to do anything, are accepted, and Millie is left unharmed purely for the sake of you. 

“I think you were tryin’ to sing somethin’ for me, Mox.”

“Yeah, I was.”

I love us I love us just the way we are Don’t have to pretend to like to do things we don’t I’ve always got you around to laugh at my stupid jokes I’ll never take you for granted I’ll always give you my best If you can offer the same thing we’ll handle the rest ‘Cause I love you ‘Cause I love you

Blitzø looks undoubtedly hurt and undeniably uncomfortable and, shit, it was very much warranted. You felt the exact same, ashamed of getting called out by Verosika, hurt by having Ozzie of all people put you all on blast, feeling stupid for feeling hurt by Stolas so very clearly looking embarrassed to be seen on a date with you. 

Stolas looks worried, but doesn’t get to form any words before Blitzø speaks up. “You know what, this was a mistake, alright? Let’s just- let’s just leave.”

For the first time the entire night, you agree with him. “Yeah. We should go.”

“Oh. Right. Of course,” Stolas agrees, and the three of you get up, making your way to the exit. You didn’t even get to try the fucking wine. 

You glance back at Ozzie on your way out, and he raises his eyebrows in concern when his eyes meet yours. You know that face. He only just realized he hurt you with what he did, and you know he’ll let you be for the rest of the night, but you’re sure to expect him to show up at your place tomorrow to apologize. 

You also take a glance at Millie and Moxxie, still on the stage, and mouth an ‘I’m sorry’ to them before exiting the place. 

The drive to Stolas’ place is quiet and uncomfortable and it makes holding yourself back from crying much, much harder. You’re not even sure why Stolas is getting a ride, as he’d portaled himself to Ozzie’s and could very much just portal himself back home, but it’s not like you’re gonna bring that up. 

Much too tall for the I.M.P. van, he’s crammed in the backseat, and struggles a little before managing to get himself out of the car. 

Before leaving, he leans on the passenger’s window, facing you and Blitzø and nervously trying to get himself to say something. “Thank you, for… inviting me out tonight.” Blitzø turns away to face his other side and you keep your eyes glued to the windshield, both unable to look him in the eye. “Despite everything that’s happened, I… I enjoyed spending time with you.”

“Yeah,” is all Blitzø says, and you simply nod.

“You know, I have some more wine in the house. Octavia’s with her mother this weekend, so we could…”

“I’m not fucking you tonight, okay? I’m really just… I’m really not in the mood, alright?” He nudges you with his elbow, and you swear you see him wipe down a tear. “If you wanna take this one go ahead.”

“I-”

“We could just… talk. Or… watch a movie? Or maybe… cuddle?”

For the first time since leaving Ozzie’s, you manage to properly look at Stolas. Was he serious? Would he genuinely be okay with that after what just happened? Could he genuinely be okay to be in your presence without sex involved? 

“Stolas, don’t act like what we have is anything but you wanting us to fuck you, okay?” 

“Blitz-“

“No. You too. Are you actually falling for the shit he says? Fucking watch a movie and cuddle? You know exactly what he wants from us. He just says what he thinks he has to to get in our pants. I thought you weren’t that stupid.” 

You scoff at his words and get out of his car silently, as you can’t believe he just said that to you.

“What, you’re not coming?” 

Tears are threatening to roll down your face again, and it makes you angry. “Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own?”

“Fine. Stay with him then. Congrats to the fucking happy couple!” 

With that lovely yell, he takes off. 

“Are you alright, dearest? You can come in if you-“ Stolas reaches for you, but you can’t help but back off, not allowing him to touch you. He lets his hand fall back to his side. 

“Could you just send me back to Ozzie’s? Looks like I don’t have a ride anymore.”

“Are you sure you want to be there? What he did was-“

“I- I’ll talk to him. They won’t poke fun at you because of us again, Your Highness. No need to worry.”

He grimaces at your words, and you’re fully aware why.  You haven’t called him that in a long time. In fact, you realize you did it to be cruel. To hurt him. 

To hurt yourself into remembering your place in relation to him. You almost want him to argue with you. To understand what you meant and tell you he doesn’t look down on you, that he doesn’t feel ashamed. 

And yet he only accepts what you say with a nod.  “Good night, y/n.” 

Maybe Blitzø isn’t wrong.

You nod once instead of saying it back- you don't trust your voice to come out.

He seems to want to say something else but refrains from doing so, only waving his hand to cast the spell you requested him to. In a mere second you materialize back at Ozzie’s, but not in the lounge, thankfully- in the waiting room in front of his office. 

You break down crying the very moment you gain bearing of your surroundings. 

A/N sorry for the shitty lyrics i added to house of asmodeus it was sadly necessary lmaoooo

Freaky Redheads

synopsis: interactions between you and fred hechinger at a red carpet event for gladiator ii.

wc: 2.5+

rpf!!! don't like, don't read!!!

a/n: i love that soft, sweet, adorable man with all of my heart. my inspiration is how fred talks about sherry. the monkey. i'm down bad bro.

italics are supposed to be comments under tiktok clips of these interviews. i definitely have more in mind for these two, but we'll see how this goes. feedback is writer's fuel!

cross posted on AO3

The flashing cameras and yelling reporters have started to become the new normal, which was so not normal for you. You couldn't believe how far you'd come.

Granted, your role in the movie was definitely more in the supporting cast territory, but you couldn't deny how massive the production was. But even as a supporting actress, you still had quite a bit of screen time as the unnamed favorite concubine to Emperor Caracalla.

The fans who knew you called out your name from behind the velvet ropes and you smiled and waved as you walked by.

"y/n! y/n! Over here!" A reporter called out. You nodded and smiled as you approached, indicating your acceptance of the carpet-side interview. Your agent had warned you that not every journalist might want to speak with you and that you should accept any interview you came by. Thankfully, as the start of your night would show, that wasn't the case.

"Hello!" You beamed, coming to a stop in front of the camera. The reporter greeted you back and handed you a microphone glued to a mini Romanesque column. "Oh, wow. I love the microphone!"

"Thank you," She smiled. With a quick glance at her blouse, you saw a name tag that said 'MTV UK: Claire'. "It was my idea, actually."

"Incredibly creative! They should give you a raise, Claire."

"If you wouldn't mind saying that directly into the camera..." Claire trailed off with a chuckle and a mischievous glint to her eye.

You shot the camera as serious a look as you could muster. "MTV, if you do not give this woman a raise, I will riot in the streets."

"Alright alright, enough of that." Claire laughed out loud with a few shakes of her head. "You look absolutely stunning!"

"Oh, this old thing?" You smiled bashfully, grabbing at your skirt to twirl it around. The styling department had made sure that all the gowns worn during press had some Roman inspiration behind them. The piece you were wearing was off white in color, representing your character's position in society. Even with your character in mind, your dress was still breathtaking. The gown was composed of yards and yards of fabric, giving it this dreamy, flowy silhouette. The neckline was so beautiful, in the cowl style and draped ever so slightly off your shoulders. To say that you loved it would be an understatement. "Thank you very much, you look amazing yourself."

"But you are on a different level!" Claire gasped, no doubt to return the topic to you. Just like you were media trained, the reporters were too. "What was the thought process behind your look tonight?"

Your eyes lit up as this was something you had wanted to talk about. "Well, the styling department and I actually workshopped this look together. Of course we wanted it to be glamorous, this is the red carpet after all. But we also wanted to show the character through the outfits, you know?" She nodded along.

"Right, your character was quite impactful even with the few lines you had." Claire added, and you smiled in thanks.

"Yeah, thank you." You felt your face heat up at the compliment. "We wanted to still be true to her, under all the glitz and glamour. So that's why we went with the understated color, to not only show her position in society but also her demeanor throughout the film."

"But your jewellery is anything but understated." She laughed.

"Yeah, I couldn't help myself." You laughed with her.

"Give us a quick tour."

You were almost dripping in gold, from your head to your toes. "We've got the hair piece." You brought a hand up to show the gold pins connected with chains littering your up-do. "Earrings upon earrings, all hoops." You pulled a strand back to show off your right ear clearly. Some were clip on earrings as you didn't have quite enough piercings to get them all. "The necklaces, of course. Some bracelets, some rings. But I think this cuff on my upper arm is my favorite."

"And these are all borrowed pieces from different brands?"

"Most of them are, yes." You confirmed with a nod. "But some are from my private collection. And some I might steal." You joked, getting a laugh out of Claire.

"Well, you really knocked it out of the park." Claire smiled, a tone of finality in her voice that showed you the interview was coming to a close. "And before we let you go, we've got one question we're asking everyone tonight. I think we can all agree that the cast of this movie is full of beautiful men." You giggled, a bit surprised at the turn in topic. "But people on the internet have separated them into two categories."

"Oh, have they now?" You asked, unaware of what she was talking about.

"Yes, they have. Gen Z has divided them into the brooding brunets and the freaky redheads." She explained, pulling up two little hand held signs. One with Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, the brooding brunets, and the other with Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger, the freaky redheads.

You couldn't contain the surprised laugh that escaped you at the sight of their little printed faces. "Oh my goodness!"

"So, as the resident Gen Z-er on the cast, who is your pick?"

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm the only representation of Gen Z here." You mused as you grabbed both the signs from Claire. You lifted up the 'freaky redheads' sign and pointed to Fred. "My friend is right there with me in the Gen Z territory."

"Alright, as the representation of Gen Z women, which team is more your style?" Claire asked as you studied the signs. "People are saying they went into the movie for the brunets and came out converted to team redheads."

"That's actually really funny," You chuckled as you looked down at both signs. "This is hard." You mumbled. A small smirk found itself on your lips as you thought of Fred seeing this clip later. Someone no doubt showing it to him, as he wouldn't find it on his own. "I feel like- yeah." You nodded with determination. "I'm gonna have to go with Fred- I'm going with team freaky redheads." You nodded. "I think it would be treacherous otherwise."

"Good choice. You'd break Emperor Caracalla's heart."

"And then he'd have my head." You laughed, stepping back. "Thank you for your great questions."

"Thank you for your time." Claire waved as you walked away. "We're gonna have a tally going throughout the night, and we'll see who wins. Team brooding brunets, or team freaky redheads." You heard her say to the camera as you moved further down the carpet.

'She looks so pretty!!'

'i love the thought process behind the outfit, you can tell she really loved her character'

'the reporter asked y/n if she prefers lucius and acacius or geta and caracalla and this girl really said FRED 💀'

'i love seeing new faces in hollywood, give young new actors a chance!!' ↳ 'right?? im so sick of them recycling the same actors for every big budget movie'

'she mentioned fred, not caracalla, twice, unprompted. i see you, y/n. you're just like us.' ↳ 'have you seen his interviews? he's literally the cutest i cant blame her 🥺'

A few steps down, another reporter flagged you down. This time, the questions were more centered around the acting itself.

"And was it difficult? In a previous interview, you've said that your character's growth was significant, but she had almost no lines in the movie."

"Yeah, I think in the final cut she only has... three lines?" You winced, looking upwards as you tried to recall what was and wasn't cut. "Though I'm not sure."

"So there were scenes where she could've said more?"

"Oh yeah, for sure! There was a lot of experimentation with my character throughout filming. Ridley's a genius and he was kind enough to truly take in my suggestions. There were times where I felt like she would actually stay quiet during a scene, whereas other times I felt like she would speak up. But yeah," You breathed in and furrowed your brows in thought as you tried to focus your answer back to the original question. "It was definitely a challenge. I had to really work on my micro-expressions. Lots of research, lots of practice. And lots of trust, too. With a character like mine, I really relied on Fr- on my fellow actors in those scenes. So yeah, definitely challenging. But who doesn’t love a good challenge?"

"And did you take any inspiration from other people's work? Any source material that helped you out as you built your character?"

"Of course!" You smiled, a hint of humor in your tone as you thought of your response. "Yeah, I did. Actually, one of the biggest inspirations for my role, believe it or not, was Ferb. From 'Phineas and Ferb'."

"The- The children's show?" The interviewer questioned with a grin.

"Yeah, Ridley thought it was brilliant!" You laughed. "We watched compilations of Ferb scenes on youtube together. And I know that Fred- Fred Hechinger, who plays Emperor Caracalla-, he also brought up Sid Vicious with Ridley, as well as other sources like that. Sir Ridley Scott has great taste, there's no denying that."

'ferb as inspiration for a movie like this,,, gen z in the film industry really are the gift that keeps on giving'

'im just imagining y/n and ridley scott curled up on the couch watching phineas and ferb reruns. that man is 86 years old. this is brilliant.'

'bro didn't even have to say anything and y/n still brought up fred 💀'

'the gen z cast members making ridley scott watch cartoons is sending me'

'not her pretending she didn't mean to say fred when she talked about trust, we all heard you y/n'

Unbeknownst to you, Fred's interviews were going much like yours, only a few feet behind you on the carpet.

"You look amazing today!" Claire, the same reporter you spoke to, told Fred during his first interview on the carpet.

"Thank you, thank you." He replied bashfully as he tried to subtly look around for you, but he couldn't see you just yet. "Everyone looks so great, everyone."

She asked him a few questions and then came time for her ending segment.

"Alright, to close off, we've got a little game here."

"A game?" Fred smiled with raised brows. "I love games." He said softly, not realizing that the microphone would pick it up.

"Yes, a quick one. You just have to choose between team brooding brunets and team freaky redheads. We've asking everyone to join."

"Woah!" Fred exclaimed as he received the signs. "That's me." He pointed out his own face in the picture of him and Joseph. "What are we basing our choice on here?"

"Well, the internet is battling on who is more attractive."

"Oh my god." Fred chortled, not expecting that answer. "Who's played the game?" He asked, still examining the hand held signs.

"As of now, we've spoken to Joseph Quinn, Connie Nielsen, and y/n l/n." Claire recounted.

Fred's eyes lit up and his cheeks reddened at the mention of your name. "And what's the- what's the consensus so far?"

"It's two to one. Can you guess who's in the lead?" Claire asked.

"Let me think... Well, Joseph -my brother-, he definitely voted for us." He pondered aloud as he counted the votes off on his fingers. "Connie... I think Connie went for team brunets. I mean, it's her husband. She's gotta." He grinned when it came to you. "y/n chose me, right? We're in the lead?"

"Yeah, you're right on all counts! You really know your cast members." Claire laughed. "y/n didn't want to anger Emperor Caracalla."

"Oh, she couldn't. I’ve got too much of a soft spot for her." Fred shook his head emphatically.

"So, are you keeping team redheads in the lead? Or will you give us a tie?"

"No, I'm going team redheads!" Fred exclaimed. "I'm not helping out my competition, no way!"

'this man has bewitched me with his beautiful eyes and calming demeanor'

'he always calls joe his brother im CRYINGGG'

'did you see his face when they mention y/n, this man can't hide his crush for the life of him 🥺' ↳ 'neither can she lol'

'what do yall know about fred hechinger 🗣️🗣️🗣️'

'fred immediately knowing that y/n chose him, kill me right now.' ↳ 'mind you the choice was caracalla. she still said 'fred' and he said 'me'. can they be more obvious?'

'the way this man said 'i love games' protect him at all costs'

‘he said ‘i’ve got a soft spot for her’ is this the year of men yearning?’ ↳ ‘it’s just the paul mescal effect’

It was during his next interview that he saw you. He was talking about his experience building the character of Emperor Caracalla with Sir Ridley Scott as well as Joseph Quinn when he finally caught sight of you. You had spent a bit longer with a specific reporter down the carpet, causing Fred to catch up to you. 

“Of course, y/n was a great help as well.” He smiled, reaching over to brush against your elbow to catch your attention. At the perfect time, too, because you had just finished talking to the reporter in front of you.

“Oh, Fred!” You beamed, coming over to give him a hug. 

“Look at you.” Fred spoke against your shoulder. He pulled away from the hug and brought you into his side in front of the camera, almost like he was showing you off. “Look at her, isn’t she stunning.”

“Stop it,” you rolled your eyes as you tried your best not to show how his compliment affected you. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just had to say hello.”

“No worries,” the reporter reassured you. “Fred was actually saying how you helped with the building of his character.”

“Yeah, we worked really closely during pre-production actually.” You nodded, acutely aware of Fred’s hands on you. He had one hand casually tucked into his pocket while his other arm draped across your waist, his hand resting against your hip. “My character was almost like Caracalla’s sidekick, so the motives for all her actions are really based around him.”

“I’d argue that she was more of a mirror, actually.” You turned to look at Fred, never passing up an opportunity to hear his view on these things. “She’s the complete opposite of Caracalla, but in a way she represents who he truly is under all the pressure of being in Geta’s shadow.”

“And under all the syphilis, of course.” You added, causing Fred to giggle.

“Yeah, and under the syphilis.”

‘he seems like such a sweet guy 🥺’

‘did you see his face when he saw her???  😫😫😫 theyre in love, your honor’

‘him showing her off like that is peak soft boyfriend behavior’

‘they just called me single in seven different languages’

‘his laugh is actually so cute, who is this man and why am i in love with him? 😍’ ↳ 'get in line' ↳'behind y/n, you mean?'

‘the way he’s touching her???? im just gonna go take a nap in front of an oncoming train’

‘im calling it, new hollywood it couple’

‘look at how he looks at her!!! may this love find me 🙏’

OUR LOVE | Alt Vander X Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS - Fluff • Brief mention on near death • Season 2 Spoilers! •

PAIRING: Alt Universe Vander X Fem Reader

SUMMARY: ever since a certain day in your lives, life in Zaun has never been better. And although your adopted children might’ve grown and flown the nest, there’s still laughter at the bar

WORD COUNT: 1.2K

——————————————————————————

Dawn had finally started to spill into Zaun, the sun glimmering off a soft morning dew of mist. Ever since Piltover and Zaun came together, life had become euphoric for all. Everyone united, the sons and daughters of Zaun no longer cut off from opportunities and fortune. Sure there was the odd spat between the two but nothing seemed to sever the bond between cities.

All seemingly possible because your kids stupidly nearly got themselves killed in Piltover. After receiving a tip from Ekko, your and Vander’s kids decided to sneak into a lavish Piltover apartment and attempt to burgle it for riches. Until for some unknown reason, an explosion nearly took the life of your oldest daughter Vi. It all but broke you and Vander to see her broken body. She had been so close to death that finally the Council decided their obliviousness to the Undercity’s problems had to come to an end.

And so it did. As Vi healed, so did Zaun. The air was cleaned. Health care provided. Chem-barons operations dismantled. Until finally the Zaun you grew up in became a thing of the past and the dream of a free Zaun became a reality.

Eventually the kids grew into adults, like baby birds leaving the nest and writing their own stories. Choosing their own fates. Powder and Ekko had been accepted into the academy furthering their brilliance for gadgets. Claggor turned his eye to further clearing the air in the fissures, using plants natural ability to produce oxygen. Mylo was still Mylo, happily jumping from one opportunity to the next but always there to help his brother with his projects. And Vi had followed in Vander’s footsteps, becoming a professional boxer. Along with starting a relationship with a councillors daughter. The bar that was once full of laughter became quiet. Though you and your husband were content. Just you and him. To do as you pleased.

At least for a year it was.

The two of you were sleeping together in bed; your bodies lying on your sides and intertwined with each other. Vander’s arms held you tightly to his body, one of his hands buried in your hair. Your own wrapped around his waist whilst you buried your face into his bare chest, feeling his soft snores tussle your hair at each exhale. Nothing could interrupt the peaceful bliss of sleep between you two. Until the door to your bedroom suddenly swung open.

“Dad! Come on, dad! You gotta get up!” A voice suddenly called, the two of you huffing out quietly when you felt the bed dip behind Vander. “Dad? Dad!”.

A slight snicker escaped your lips when you felt you husband shoulder being shoved by a tiny force, the child repeatedly calling for his fathers attention. “I think your son is awake,” you whispered into his chest. Vander’s arms tightened around your waist, burying his head further into the crown of your head.

“Before sunrise he’s your son,” he grumbled, voice still ripe with sleep.

“Dad! DAD!” The young lad yelped. Vander suddenly grunted out in shock and a small mixture of pain when your son hopped up and landed on his thigh, causing him to crack an eye open. “Come on, dad! You promised we’d decorate the bar!”. The boys brows furrowed in a very familia glare. One he had no doubted inherited from his father.

“Alright, alright. I’m up ya lil tike,” Vander groaned, yawning tiredly as the boy leaped off the bed and ran out the room in excitement. Of course, it was suddenly coming back to him. The academy that Ekko and Powder were studying at was hosting an inventions fair. Both teens excited beyond belief so you and Vander promised to host a party at the Last Drop. Win or lose, you were more than proud of the two teens. But at the same time, Vander also promised your now 7 year old son that he could help decorate the bar in the morning. Seems he took it a little too literally.

Your husband huffed out in exhaustion and rolled onto his back, running a hand down his face. “So much for sleeping in till 9”.

“Ha! Good luck with that,” you grinned, rolling with him to rest your chin on his chest. “He has the same amount of energy you had when you were that age”.

“Gods help us,” he huffed with a sleepy chuckle as his knuckles trailed down between your shoulder blades. “Why did I get you pregnant when all the kids had finally moved out?”.

“You were a little too excited that we finally had the house to ourselves … and because you couldn’t resist me in that dress,” you smirked cheekily, your finger drawing shapes over his peck; Vander going on to grunt out in annoyance at you reminder. “Now, come on! What was it you said that night? ‘Gods, love, you look gorgeous in that dress’ even though I was sweaty from running round like a headless chicken for Sevika’s birthday”.

He cocked a brow up at your impression, his hand gliding down to your waist to tug your closer. “Well, you did look gorgeous,” he replied.

“And we got a beautiful boy from it,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut in content as you rested your cheek back on his chest. “Just think, 11 more years until he hits 18 and then maybe moves out and we’ll have the bar back to ourselves again”.

“Hoorah,” Vander sarcastically cheered, finally raising himself to a sitting position and letting you slide off of him. After attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes he glanced back over to you to see you had snuggled back down into your pillow. “You’re not getting up?” He asked.

“He only asked for you, Papa bear,” you playfully said, a honeyed smile gracing your lips as your eyes remained shut and tugged the quilt back over your shoulder. “I’m not working till later”.

Vander rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I love you,” he impishly teased, leaning over you.

Your eye creeped open, gazing at him lovingly. “You better,” you hushed. Vander smiled, placing a gentle kiss to your lips which you happily accepted, your hand creeping out from under the covers to caress his cheek.

“Dad! Come on!” You suddenly heard your son call from the front room, causing the two of your to pull away with a sigh.

Vander huffed to himself and climbed out of bed. “11 more years,” he prayed for jokingly, feeling his joints click as he walked over to the wardrobe.

“And counting,” you giggled back.

Vander swiftly dressed himself for the day and left you with a kiss on the head. You could feel the pull of sleep lulling you back as you heard your sons joyous laughter along with your husbands. Their footsteps fading away when they walked up the stairs into the bar.

Things were certainly different now. Your children had futures brighter than you could’ve hoped for. Your husband and Silco’s relationship healed. And now the two of your were raising a new life together all over again. Seemed like a dream. One you certainly wouldn’t change for the world.

——————————————————————————

I wrote again. How bizarre. Eh, I can’t get this man out my head so I might as well do something productive with it. This was originally gonna be more angsty at the end but I’m not allergic to happiness unlike the Arcane writers so I decided to keep it fluffy instead. Hope y’all enjoyed.

Vander x Reader - The Beginning (Part 1)

Firstly, I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who's sent in a request so far! I'm absolutely loving the ideas you guys are sharing and will get to work on them soon! 💛

Requests are still open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

In the meantime; this is a story that's been sat in my drafts for nearly a year, if not longer! I hope you all enjoy this! And yes, there will be a few more parts to this story.

Thank you all for the continued support!💛

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Warnings: Uprising, uprising aftermath, grief, mentions of death, denial, complex relationship with parents, mentions of injuries and possible complications from these injuries, mentions of an arranged marriage

Vander Masterlist / Other Character Masterlist / Join My Taglist

“Are we really gonna do this?” you breathed out shakily, laying on Vanders bare chest. 

The plans for the uprising were all in place thanks to Vander, Silco and most of the undercity, but now that the time was so near, you couldn’t shift the bad feeling that was sitting in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s the only way to show Piltover,” Vander answered softly, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. 

He knew why you were worried, but he knew the risks. 

They all did. 

But this was the only way there could be change; the undercity had been forgotten by Piltover and this uprising was the only way to show those people on the other side of the bridge that  they weren’t going to be ignored or neglected anymore. 

“I know Van…but…I’ve just gotta a really bad feeling about this,” 

No one except Vander knew that you were from Piltover; you both decided it would probably be safer for you if no one knew about your past. 

You were just another traveller, trying to find a home…somewhere to belong. 

And you did. 

The Undercity was vastly different from Piltover, in so many ways; but for some reason you felt more at home here than you ever had done topside. 

There were no pressures. 

No discussion of arranged marriages. 

You were free; free to live however you wanted.

With whomever you wanted.

You knew the uprising was happening; it had been something Vander, Silco and Felicia had been discussing since before you even met Vander. 

They were all determined, as was much of the Undercity, to show Piltover that they were just as worthy as anyone living topside. 

But things weren’t that simple. 

You knew that no matter how determined they were, there was still going to be so much death. 

So many wasted lives. 

Because the Enforcers of Piltover were brutal. 

They had to be, they protected the city. 

Once upon a time; when you were younger and much more naïve, you admired the duty of the Enforcers.

That was until you grew up and saw the reality of what they were. 

They shot first and asked questions later….especially when it came to the people of the Undercity. 

And that’s why you were terrified. 

Terrified that this whole uprising was going to get crushed. 

That there was just going to be so much death, on both sides, that it was going to be almost impossible to come back from. 

Piltover would be angry and want revenge. 

The undercity would be the same. 

And thus the circle of violence would continue.

Never-ending.

Both sides would be craving revenge and willing to do anything to get it.

“You can stay here, darl…I know your dad-”

His sentence was cut short when he felt your body stiffen under him at the mention of your father.  

The reason you’d idolized the Enforcers, was because the man who raised you was the sheriff of the Piltover Enforcers; the same man was the one who showed you how ruthless they could be.

You knew that after all the years of being estranged from her family that there was a possibility you could meet again on that bridge and as much as you tried not to think about it, now that the event was so close, it was almost impossible to avoid. 

Vander knew that. 

He knew the complicated relationship that you had with her family; he was part of the reason things were so complicated between you and your parents. 

You both knew that meeting one another was never meant to happen, it was just a weird twist of fate that brought you together. But once you’d met one another, there was no turning back, not for either of you.

You left your life, your family, everything you knew, so that you could be with the man you loved. 

So that you could be with Vander. 

That was three years ago, and you'd been by his side ever since. 

And those three years were the happiest you’d been in a long while…you just didn’t want to lose that. 

You didn’t want to lose him, and you knew that this uprising risked that happening. 

It risked destroying everything, your lives, your friends, your community…all of it could be destroyed.

“I’m scared of losing you….” you admitted, trying to hold back the tears that were forming in her eyes. 

“I know, darl, I am too,” he also confessed, pulling you closer to him. 

“But this isn’t just about us,” his words were almost a whisper, but you heard him, and you knew that what he was saying was true. 

This wasn’t about them. 

This was about the future…

There was no doubt that you feared the ramifications of what could happen from doing this uprising, you knew that it was going to happen whether you decided to be a part of it or not. 

The last thing you wanted to be doing was  staying here, waiting and hoping that Vander would come back to you. 

You wanted to make sure that he would, and if that meant going with him and having his back, then that’s what you were going to do. 

And if it all went terribly, at least you’d be together then as well.

~~~~~

Vander didn’t know what to do. 

Y/n was missing…

Felicia and Connol were dead. 

As he carried the daughters of one of his best friends in his arms, his thoughts were running rampant in his mind, trying to process what had happened.

One minute you were by his side, fighting with him against the enforcers on the bridge…the next minute you were gone. 

You couldn’t be dead, he’d have felt it in his heart…he would’ve found your body on that bridge..but despite all of his searching, he never found you…he was scouring the bridge for a third time for you, when he saw Vi and Powder standing there, the fear evident in their eyes, even in Vi’s despite her best efforts to look brave. 

He couldn’t let them stay there. 

He had to get them to safety. 

To protect them. 

You couldn’t be dead. 

You couldn’t be…

Vander kept repeating those words in his mind; hoping that maybe you’d made your own way home, but when he got there, there was no one there. 

The bar was empty. 

He set the girls down on the stools by the bar, before running a hand over his face. 

You weren’t here. 

But that didn’t mean anything.

It didn’t mean you were dead. 

“Where’s Y/n?” Powder asked innocently, but her lighthearted expression soon faltered when she saw Vander sit down in his chair.

His brows furrowed as a frown tugged down on his mouth. 

Vi noticed the sadness in his eyes as he opened his mouth to say something before closing it firmly shut and looking away from the two girls in front of him, trying to hide the tears building in his eyes.

They knew what his silence meant, even if he couldn’t say the words…or admit it to himself…

He kept hoping that eventually you would just walk through the door; with some type of witty remark. 

But one day turned into two, two days turned into a week, the week turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into months.

During that time funerals were held for all of those who died during the uprising; including you..his mind told him that the only logical answer was that you’d died and people told him that a funeral would give him closure.

Vander, Vi and Powder, all mourned the people that they lost that day.

Despite mourning you, in his heart, Vander could never fully believe that you were gone. 

~~~~~~

“It’s okay, my love, she’s safe now,” Richard cooed to his wife, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his eyes fixed on the daughter he never thought he’d see again. 

“What did the doctor say?” Emilie, his wife, asked, the worry evident in her voice as she held her unconscious daughter's hand, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked at the injuries that were scattering Y/n's body. 

“We’ll know more when she wakes up,” Richard answered, squeezing her shoulder lightly.

When he first saw Y/n on the bridge, he couldn’t quite believe it. 

He knew you were in the Undercity, he wasn’t stupid, and as much as he wanted to just march down there and drag you home, you were the one who decided to leave.

He told you what happened if you left; it’s not like he didn’t give you ample warning. 

If you left, then you no longer had parents; that was a decision you made willingly.

For the last three years, he hadn’t had a daughter. 

But when he saw your unconscious, bloody and bruised body on the bridge; the fatherly protectiveness he thought had died all those years ago, resurfaced. 

He couldn’t leave you there. 

You were still his daughter; and despite everything, he still loved you.

So during the chaos of the fight, he took you away from the bridge and back home, where you were going to be safe. 

He called a doctor that he could trust to be discreet, to assess your injuries, and despite a cut on the back of her head, all your other injuries were superficial injuries that would heal with time. 

The cut on the back of your head was more serious though; the doctor explained that they wouldn’t know the severity of it until you were awake, but that it was possible that you could experience some type of amnesia, if nothing else. 

He couldn’t help the way he felt when the doctor said about you having amnesia. 

If you forgot about your time in the Undercity, then he could have his family back, he could have his daughter back; and you’d be able to live the life you were meant to live, in Piltover, with the types of people you were meant to be socializing with. 

Instead of the scum from the Undercity who’d twisted and manipulated you against your own parents and to join a foolish cause that could’ve gotten you killed. 

You’d be able to have the life you’d so misguidedly thrown away. 

All he ever wanted was what was best for you, and now he had a second chance to give that to you. 

Was he so wrong to want that? 

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @barbersjoy @conretewings @the-lone-librarian @cass-brightwood @fortune-fool02 @arielpanda1 @wildestdreamcatcher @mothratic @simping-ella @stickyrice5096 @levis-butterfingers @lesbianinyourarea