am-i-interrupting

[am-i-interrupting]

TIL’ WE MEET AGAIN | Young!Silco x Fem!Reader

Chapter One-Persistence; When a coward turns hero.

Warnings; Angst, pre-canon, hurt/comfort, Zaunites, Piltians, revolution, violence, blood, gore, drinking, smoking, gambling, swearing, sex, brothels, drugs, slow burn, the reader is a coward at first, original character (Wynn), strangers to lovers, bittersweet, Old Silco being weirdly sentimental, Jinx being noisy, and major character death.

A/N; I don’t do taglists, sorry. I also want to thank my friend for supporting my writing, proofreading, and character creation of Wynn. Love you, bro.

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Undercity is considered an industrial stain nestled beneath the grand city of Piltover.

With air that hangs heavy, and its people feral. Towering smokestacks belch black smoke into the already smog sky, casting long shadows over the cramped alleyways and buildings. The streets are strewn with discarded scrap metal, chemical waste, and other debris of the relentless production that drives the Undercity's economy. 

The warm green glow of the gas lamps casts an eerie, shimmering light over the buzzing market stalls and their wares. Cautious eyes dart about, gripping the crate tightly, as your knuckles white with tension. You trudge through the damp, uneven cobblestone path. Your heavy boots thud, but the market muffles the sound. Wynn strides ahead of you, his boysenberry hair reflecting the green making his hair almost black.

Both of you carry large, sloshing crates of alcohol that clink and bounce with each jostle from the crowded lane. Your tattered cloak draped your form, the hood pulled low to fight against the season's coldness and obscure your face from the lingering enforcers.

You instinctively glance at the enforcers standing near a stall, their voices raised in angry conversation with the stall’s owner, who appears equally irritated. They are likely issuing citations for illegal imports or contraband. Detailed by the other armored man holding up a list and pointing at the merchandise. However, when the vendor suddenly shoves one of them, you quickly avert your gaze, choosing to ignore the escalating commotion and focus on navigating the crowded marketplace.

Fighting wasn’t something you could do against the enforcers unless you’d want a hefty prison sentence or killed. So, you allow them to conduct their inspections and searches, gritting your teeth if their hands linger on your body for far too long.

You did dream of something better, a fictional land where all is peace and harmony, but that's wishful thinking. Life gave the Undercity people the short end of the stick, so now all you want is to keep your life, provide some aid to wanders, and of course keep the tavern: The Last Drop. Afloat.

Some vendors attempt to grab your attention, but you politely shake your head. Keep your eyes trained on Wynn who glides through the people with ease. You stumble and slip between people straining to keep up with your friend. Cursing under your breath at the fact that you could’ve gotten your supply runner to fetch the cargo, but no. Coins have been getting slimmer and slimmer at the drop. One of the many reasons why your resentment, once directed at the enforcers, began to shift towards the rebels who fought against them. While their cause was just, their tactics often made life even harder for the ordinary citizens of the Undercity. Strikes, protests, and their thievery disrupted supply lines which left families and businesses like yours struggling to make ends meet. Of course, this is only rooted in fear. 

Fear of losing more.

The mines that delve deep into Runeterra. Extracting precious minerals to fuel the insatiable demand. Workers in harsh conditions, their health and safety were often sacrificed for the sake of profit. Stark contrasts the cutting-edge innovation of Piltover ‘coexisting’ with the rampant corruption and exploitation they cause the city below them.

Down in the fissures, where deep cracks in the earth have split open, a treacherous underground network of tunnels and caverns caused by the relentless mining and drilling operations. Was bustling with the activity of workers, faces smeared with grime.

You and your father worked in those mines, and many families did. Your life narrowed down to one moment. A vivid horrible memory. You knew you should’ve put up a fight, and struggled against the enforcers alongside the others. When the tears finally spilled over, streaming down your face in hot, bitter rivulets. You couldn’t help but cower. You remember his body and the way the world seemed to tilt and spin around you.

When you pushed yourself up, letting go of a rusty pickaxe. A strong arm shoved you roughly back to the ground. It sent shockwaves through your malnourished body. Your coal-covered glove scraped against the unforgiving, rocky ground as you trembled uncontrollably, shaking like a frightened animal.

A cacophony of screams and desperate cries pierced everyone's ears like shards of glass. Through ‘The Gray’ smog you saw people–workers–were fighting against the enforcers with a fury born of desperation, their voices raw as they tried to reach your father, who was knelt on the ground, clutching the back of his head. Blood, vivid red against the rocks, drips steadily from his fingers, staining the earth beneath him. A macabre work of art. The sight of it sears itself into your mind, something you still see to this day.

Your wide eyes locked onto your father, drinking in every detail of his face, committing it to memory, as the screams and shouts faded into a distant, muffled hum.

He met your gaze, his expression was steady and calm despite the chaos that raged around you. He's trying so hard not to look frightened, putting on a brave face for your sake. He gulped, and in that tiny gesture, you saw the truth of his fear reflected in his eyes. But there's something else there too, a silent message of love and reassurance that told you that everything will be okay, that he'll protect you no matter what happens to him. 

But the man behind him, the one through the smog, the one who raises his gun high above his shoulder–tells a different story. The gun glints harshly reflecting off the gold on the enforcer. Quick to get to your knees, a firm kick sends you forward along with a harsh boot on your back keeps you in place. You cried out at the pressure, as you squirmed to get closer to your father. 

It's a swift blow, brutally efficient in its execution. The butt of the gun connected with the back of his head with a nauseating crack, and he crumpled to the ground. He fell face-first onto the unforgiving rocks. His body would twitch, but the last sliver of life drained away in an instant. You barely heard the final, choked-off words that he never got to finish. His last confession of "I love you" was stolen away by the cruel hand of fate.

Your breathing gets heavy when you remember, each intact a painful reminder of the life that still flows through your veins, even as everything else feels cold and numb. You shakily grip the case. It takes a special kind of strength, and true courage to stand up despite others bringing you down, to crush your hopes and dreams beneath the weight of their fears and insecurities.

You're not sure what you believe in anymore. That day the foundations of your world were shaken when the very ground beneath your feet shifted and crumbled, leaving you feeling lost and adrift in a sea of uncertainty before you were taken by the hand and brought up to a raft. You’ll always be grateful to Wynn. Though, all you know is that life is rather unfair, especially in the Undercity, and all you want to do is survive. Is that selfish? 

Perhaps you are one of those pushovers.

You were too lost in thought when you got pushed to the side, sending you to your left, and letting go of the crate to catch your fall, gritting your teeth you look up but notice it’s those same enforcers now carrying off that vendor's supplies. The one that shoulder checks you, gives you a look, and even with its helmet on you can tell that they’re testing your reaction. You look down at your crate. It’s open and bottles–thankfully not broken–have rolled out.

Maybe you've always been that way, content to let others make the decisions, to follow the path of least resistance rather than forging your way forward. But with the aftermath of your father's lifeless body that laid before you and the weight of powerlessness bearing down on your shoulders, you can't help but wonder if there isn't more to you than that.

Maybe, deep down, buried beneath the layers of fear and self-doubt, there is a spark of courage waiting to be ignited, a flicker of determination that just needs the right circumstances to flare into life.

You carefully lift each bottle to the crate, ensuring they are securely packed. Reaching for a bottle of scotch, your hand accidentally brushes against its neighbor, sending the bottle rolling away. It clicks and clanks across the cobblestone path before disappearing into the shadows of a nearby alley.

You pause, considering whether to retrieve the wayward bottle, but the risk of Wynn ringing your neck for wasting good money has you sighing. A broke bitch during inflation is someone you don’t want to mess with. You continue to pack the remaining bottles and get back to your feet, crate in arms.

No one notices you entering the alley, with your head hanging low. 

The ground is littered with discarded metal scraps, used needles, and unidentifiable substances. Peering from beneath your hood, you scan the area for any sign of the missing bottle, but your search becomes useless. Instead, you hear labored breathing and pained grunts from further down the narrow way. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the scene before you. The glint of gold and blue uniforms mingles with the tattered red of the man's clothing. The sight is all too familiar. The enforcers’ figures huff up and down, laughing at each other in cruel satisfaction as they rain down blows on the man. Their boots connected with sickening thuds against his bloodied body. You can’t tear your eyes away from them. 

The right circumstance is all someone needs.

“Look at you, pathetic like the rest of those revolutionaries. You’re nothing but a filthy rat scurrying in the gutters and trash of refined people.” One of them coo, tilting their head at the body, you step closer.

You should move on, and let them take this man’s life if need be, so you can slip by unnoticed. It would be far more understandable than helping someone out of the kindness of your heart, but you have never felt such a surge of emotion before. The impending doom that bloomed in your gut yelling in your ear with a booming voice telling you that if you didn’t help this man you’d truly be the vermin that topside thinks you are. You can’t explain it to yourself, all your bitter-laced words and morals clashed when you heard them throwing those humiliating remarks. 

The right circumstance is all she needed.

The enforcers continue to beat him. You don’t think very much, the few thoughts that pass your mind are typically about personal survival, so thinking about beating these men into a pulp like they are with your fellow scum has you dropping the crate and racing towards them. Your heart is in your ears, bile backing up in your throat, as your coat flies off you. The knife you grip sinks into the nearest Piltie. Into their exposed armor between the helmet and chest plate. An honest, lucky blow to the neck.

He yelps, stopping his assault to cradle the wound that spurts blood between his gloved fingers. He staggers away as the other enforcer finally grasps the situation. With your dagger in the side of the other guy's neck, you quickly skimmed around the alley looking for a possible weapon, you spotted the bottle but you weren’t quick enough. The intact enforcer rushed at you and slammed you against the brick wall of a building. Your head hits it roughly dazing you. Your windpipe closes up when the enforcer pushes your throat with his forearm. His metal suit cuffs dig into your skin. You're frantic now. 

Shit–you didn’t think this through. Death was now a concrete possibility, and dying next to the man you tried so hard to save felt like the greatest irony. The pain shooting through your neck grew unbearable, causing tears to well up and cascade down your cheeks, despite the insults being thrown your way.

On this final night alive, you admit to yourself that you might have cared about the revolution after all. Your body was lifted off the ground, dangling up near this blue and gold-clad man. Both of your hands grip his gloves, trying to cause any damage by digging your nails into him. More tears roll. You weren’t crying because your own life was flashing before your eyes, but because you couldn’t save a symbol. A figure of hope.

The enforcer that you stabbed lays slumped against a gross dumpster, his hand weakly clawing at the stab wound in his neck. Crimson blood seeped through his armor, staining it a dark, glistening red. He twitched and spasmed as blood continued to spurt from the exposed injury. Despite everything a pang of guilt flickered in your chest. You had never taken a life before. Your gaze drifted to his neck, and realization dawned on you–your dagger was missing. As you slipped in and out of consciousness, the grip on your neck loosened.

The enforcer collapsed on top of you, pinning you beneath his weight as he sank to the ground his body took you with it. You coughed and gasped, and with a wave of nausea rising in your throat and bobbing pain around it you pushed the body off you. Looking up, you met the gaze of the man you had ‘saved’. He was huffing heavily, his eyes wide and wild mixed with shock on his pale face. 

Drenched in blood, sweat, and sporting bruises all over. His long hair clings to his face, some falling out of the low ponytail. His dark red tunic under a dirty gray cut-off vest. His body quivering on the brink of exhaustion. His gaze was glossy, only fueled by the last dose of adrenaline. With a final stumble, he crumpled to the ground. The knife in hand slipped away as he fell. You stare. Watching him lay defenseless, a newfound courage stirred within you, and for once in your life you know your stance. Now not cowering and licking the boots of those higher than you. You own up to the consequences, yet you still tremble. Your chest rose and fell with the rhythm of your heightened adrenaline as the footsteps of additional enforcers echoed.

You crawl to him, lowering yourself to his chest, and pray you still hear a heartbeat, and you do, it’s faint. Now kneeling, you carefully hoist his right arm over your shoulder, providing support for him to lean on. He was heavy, but his weight wasn’t overwhelming, allowing you to walk slowly with him. It was clear that he needed medical attention, and so did you. You can feel the cold blood dripping down the back of your head and the tight, painful bruise forming around your neck. You aren’t some hero, a normal citizen in a position of life and death—you’ll never become a foundation of hope in your city like in your childhood. 

And she never does. 

Your experience as a kid had given you an edge, as you used to steal from stalls and run away as they tried to chase you. Now, at the age of twenty, you thank your young self for your knowledge of the best shortcuts. It comes in handy when you hide with the unconscious man by your side, evading the enforcers who finally notice their dead brothers. From around the corner, you watch a group of them trek down the main street. You make your dash to the other side, going unnoticed.

“I got you, we’re almost there” Your voice croaks, not sure if you are trying to reassure the blacked-out man or yourself, probably the latter. There's a sign, not from Janna, but from The Last Drop. Dipping into the alley next to the tavern you head around back. Your arm that is wrapped around his slim torso is drying with his blood. More blood pools on your shoulder from his broken nose. You have to prop him up on the wall to open the cellar doors, and you both descend. 

Storage racks and unopened boxes flitter the basement. However, in the corner is a cot and stool. It’s the small medical area that you would use to aid people, usually, it was for small wounds like someone with a busted lip because they got into a fight in the bar.

So, with an injured rebel who hangs on your shoulder, you are well below practice. You manage to push the battered man off you and onto the cot. He slumps halfway off the bed, so you gently roll him back, carefully lifting his legs one by one to fully position him on the cot. Your hands tremble slightly as you work, the adrenaline running thin. 

You run a hand over your hair, feeling the back of your skull. As you bring your hand back to your eyes, you’re met with deep red staining your fingers. Your wound hits you, and you finally grasp the pounding headache you have. You slowly sit on the stool beside the cot.

“Shit” You mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, despite your possible concussion your priority is the very wanted rebel to your left. Take a deep breath to steady yourself and assess him.

His chest heaves in sparse, and uneven breaths through his busted nose. He’s still grasping onto the little energy his body has left to give. You rub up the bridge of your nose. The gravity of harboring a wanted revolutionary is not lost on you. Though at this moment, all that matters is saving his life, and not falling over while doing it. 

You lean onto your elbows while sitting, glancing at the empty bucket and washcloth, getting ready to work.

[am-i-interrupting]

TIL’ WE MEET AGAIN | Young!Silco x Fem!Reader

Series Summary; Silco tells a new story to a curious Jinx.

Warnings; Angst, pre-canon, hurt/comfort, Zaunites, Piltians, revolution, violence, blood, gore, drinking, smoking, gambling, swearing, sex, brothels, drugs, slow burn, the reader is a coward at first, original character (Wynn), strangers to lovers, bittersweet, Old Silco being weirdly sentimental, Jinx being noisy, and major character death.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

Silco's office door closes when Sevika takes her leave, his dual eyes stare indifferently into the wooden entrance.

Briefly resting his face on his hand so he can rub at his cheek bone. He flickers his irritation to the paper in front of him, reading through the documents neatly arranged on his desk. Flipping through it–His lengthy fingers daintaly holding up each page before letting them fall back in place.

Through habit he moves his chair to the left of the desk, opening up the middle drawer, taking out a small compact box, shutting the thing closed and placing the wooden box on the side of the desk, aiming to not dirty the papers. He opens the humidor, four expensive cigars lay neatly inside. Taking one of the sticks and the straight cutters, he fixes the cigar between his fingers and brings the sheers to the front and slides the stick in between the blades, and shuts the guillotine. 

SNAP!

He rolls back and turns the chair to face the large window, so that the green light that pours into the room which not only illuminates the furniture, but the kingpin as well–highlighting his features. His good eye blends with the light, the seafoam green melting away a stark contrast from the damaged one. The green clashes against the bright angry orange, the toxic waters of the Undercity fully displayed on the left of his face, the hard horrors of his youth.

Finally, he slips his hand into his vest. His delicate fingers glided over the finely knitted fabric of his striped burgundy shirt before delving into the soft contours of the breast pocket. With a practiced motion, his digits deftly retrieve a small, rectangular item. Something cold to the touch against his fingertips, the metal texture bumpy and slightly damaged. 

It's a lighter. Gray and metallic with a fancy lace eloping it–vines and roses, perfectly crafted to be comfortable to hold while simultaneously being bold and beautiful even with scratches and dents along the body. Silco caressed the carvings with the pad of his thumb. Specifically a scratchy name on the front of it. Until he was holding it properly, he extended it enough to flick the small thing open and ignite it.

The flame dances dimly, alone. Slico rolls the cigar in his fingers and hovers it over the fire, lighting the end of it. Flicking the lighter closed, he takes a long drag of the cigar. Savoring the smoke he inhales, holding the earthy smoke in his mouth. Not letting it fester for too long he puffs it out. 

Above him is an audible creaking followed by a loud thunk behind him, just then he felt his eye send a sharp pain throughout his face. He takes another drag, hoping that it eases his nerves. It does not. Huffing it out he turns the chair to face the girl sitting impatiently on his desk. Strews of papers now scattered about. Screw organization.

"You have impeccable timing," Jinx smiles and tilts her head side to side while lazily whipping the end of one of her braids of hair in a swirling motion. Jinx then scoots forward. The papers crumpled under her butt make the scooting easier, some falling off the edge. She places her feet in between Silcos spread legs, planting them firmly in place and with most of her leg strength she easily moves the chair with the bemused kingpin closer to the desk. The chair creaked as she did so. Jinx blows a raspberry and guiltily giggles. 

"Pfft- yeah just the best of timing, heh" She snatches the device out of the top drawer. Moving her legs she turns the chair to the right to pull him even closer, the armrest bumps roughly into the desk. Jinx plops her legs on top of his kicking her feet under the other armrest. The kingpin throughout this doesn't seem bothered, used to his daughter's theatrics. 

"You mustn't spy on me when I'm in a meeting" Silco narrows his eye at her, no actual malice in his expression. He positions the cigar away, so she doesn't smell it when he gently places it in the ashtray, not snubbing it out.

"Wasn't spying — just watching Ms. Righty" Jinx chuckles at her own morbid nickname, and drapes her forearm on Silcos head, as she leans on the chair. The device occasionally tapped against his temple. The blue-haired girl whines about being bored and how Sevika won't let her on jobs. Calling his right-hand an ogre that isn't cool or fun–but is, however, currently green as Jinx had shot her with paintballs. The reason why Sevika was fuming in his office not too long ago. Silco listens, nodding his head along to her rambles in a tired fatherly way. In his right hand he fidgets with the lighter. The glint reflecting off the window light brings the small thing to Jinx's attention. Abruptly stopping in the middle of her rant, watercolor eyes flickering at the silver most importantly at the poorly written name on the front of it.

"Watch'ya got there?" She hitches her leg up on the arm of the chair and rests her tilting head on her knee, unblinking eyes stare at the item in his hand. Silco unclenches the lighter and grips it with his fingers slowly handing it to the curious baby blue. She quickly picks the thing out of his grasp after dropping the device on the table with a low clank. She brings the lighter closer to her face, so she can fix on the smudged words, muttering under her breath "is that a 'a' or an 'b' or maybe a-?" she would've gone through the entire alphabet if Silco had not said her name to pull her out of her thoughts.

"What does this say, can you tell me?" Frantic, she moves the light far away from her face, dramatically turning her head to the patient kingpin, his hands hanging loosely between his thighs humming in a low tune, debating on entertaining her offbeat curiosity.

"Aww' c'mon I'm dying of boredom here!" Jinx flails around her spot before falling onto her back with her arms spread out on the desk, her head is to the left looking at the metal rectangle with a pout. Twirling it with her pink and blue nails. Silco sighs, looking at his suddenly sad daughter–he knows she's just playing him, he caves anyways. Not without teaching about bartering, when a certain stinging sensation occurs. The nerves of his left eye spread out to his scarred side, eating away at him.

"Administer my medicine, then I'll think about it" Jinx pouts, but hands him the lighter anyway. Grabbing the device that was left on the table. "Finnee-" Grumbling, she moves forward so she's close to his face and places the contraption over his eye. She waits, eyes flickering from the button on top to his bad eye. When her gaze finally looks at the good eye, she presses the button. Instantly, he shoots forward, straining in his seat as Jinx still holds onto his jaw. He tightens his grip on the light. The dose of shimmer elopes his eye–the red widening before shrinking back to an orange. The purple substance fighting away at the toxins left behind, a single shimmer tear runs down his scarred cheek. 

"Done! Now, tell me!" Jinx haphazardly drops the medical device on the desk, again. Pulling up her legs on the arm, so she can rest her head on knees, and dig her colorful nails into her muted maroon pants. She puts most of her body weight on the side of the chair, making it dip only slightly. Waiting for her father to catch his breath and follow up on his end of the bargain. Slicking his salt and pepper hair back, he leans into the chair. Adjusting his sitting and wiping away the tear before answering her.

"It reads Lady." 

"Why does it say that and why do you have something that says that and why is it so badly written?-" He sighs, still rubbing at the now disappeared shimmer. Jinx's questioning doesn't throw him off, his eyes narrow in amusement. "Will it ease your curious need about my youth if I told you it was from an old friend?" Jinx gives him a weird look.

"I thought you said we shouldn't hold onto the past and blah blah blah" Jinx begins to flap her hand in a talking motion. He grabs her wrist, making her look him in the eye. His face was serious.

"We shouldn't hold onto the past and let it consume us." He says sternly, letting her go when she begrudgingly nods. Jinx notices a fondness lit in his eye, as he then gestures to the lighter in his hand. The flame, as quickly as it appeared, dims away.

"That is more or less something nostalgic, a keepsake out of appreciation" Jinx looks at him then the lighter, then back at him. "For who?" Jinx asks. Silco smirks.

"An old friend"

"UGHHH" She dramatically flops down again, crossing her arms. Jinx begins to spin Silco, moving her legs accordingly, in an attempt at a punishment for making vague remarks. Silco lets her for only a moment, stopping her when he's fully faced in front of her by taking the leg off the armrest and letting it drop to the floor next to the other. Silco hums in thought.

"It was...from a past love of mine" From her sitting position, Jinx snaps her head up. Her attention gained back. She's not perturbed by this new information, her curiosity only grows. "Hehehe, you fancied someone?" She giggles, hunching over. Her hands either side of her thighs gripping the edge of the desk and kicking her hanging feet.

"Mhm, I did..." As memories of the past flood his mind, he forcefully wrestles himself from saying ‘I do’ . The past should linger in the past, and in the palm of his hand like a burdensome weight. Despite this, his thumb still circles around the lighter. In response, Jinx visibly slouched, her frown growing more pronounced.

"What happened?" Jinx knows now that this friend is no longer here, someone who was once close to her father–she began thinking. Her gaze flicks restless between Silco’s eyes, her hands fidgeting as they cling together. Her thumb incessantly rubs against her palm, creating a raw spot on her skin. Sensing the tension, Silco quietly places his hand on her knee, tenderly tracing comforting lines with his fingertips to ease her away from the rhythmic rubbing and her own reminiscing. 

He knows Jinx would ask non-stop about this subject, as if she were still the 12 year old that he took in years ago. Even if he did indulge Jinx in her possible endless quest of nagging him til’ he complies. He would have no idea where to begin, he’s sure that his late-companion would tell it differently, albeit dramatically. Jinx has learned through his lectures of betrayal, perhaps one on loyalty might have the same effect. 

"What happened to most Zaunites during the revolutionary years-" Silco lifts his head smoothly, his gaze hardening with growing anger. Behind the pride he feels for his expanding nation, he holds a knife to the throat of the ‘Nation of Progress’ Silco’s thoughts travel back to his last moment with her, realizing the irony that lies within the nickname of Piltover. With a cool deliberateness, Sico carefully considers his next words as he looks at his daughter. Who is seated with uncharacteristic patience. 

The cigar in the tray burns, forgotten. "-Perishing with no name under the cold gold-plated boot of Piltover"

[am-i-interrupting]

Maybe some Young! Silco fic? (Or anything that you wanna do) I already loved his older version but his Young self in The last episodes got my heart in a grip 😭💖💖 He looks so full of dreams and maybe a little silly. Maybe with a energetic/chaotic significant other!

young!silco also has me in a death grip don't worry. hope you enjoy this!!

warnings: fem!reader, violence, sexual innuendos, secondhand embarrassment for drunk rambling

“It’s doable!”

“Doable and survivable are two very different things.”

Vander knocked his head against the metal backing of his mining gloves repeatedly, aching for the two of you to come to a compromise. The light of the fungi matched the tink tink tink of his patience running thin.

Crunching footsteps had him pausing, one eye opening to find Felicia pushing her helmet up higher on her head as she stared at you and Silco just beyond, still very much squabbling. She leaned on her hip, one hand rising to rest on it as she smiled down at Vander’s hunched form.

“Are they still arguing about the gap?” she whispered.

He groaned quietly instead of answering. It was all she needed.

“I can make it!” you protested, arms gesturing to the other side of the ravine. “I’ve jumped buildings twice the distance.”

“When you’re jumping buildings you can see the ground,” Silco argued, pointing to the darkness below. “We don’t know how long a fall that is, you absolute lunatic.”

“You’ve gotta hand it to her,” Felicia chuckled, taking up camp next to Vander. “No one else would even think of jumping across.”

“She’s an adrenaline junkie,” Vander muttered. “Jumping off shit is all she thinks about.”

“Would you—just let me���damn it, Sil!”

The shuffle of boots and clothes had both of their heads turning, watching with equally amused expressions as Silco passed by with you being half carried half dragged away from the ravine. Silco didn’t pay them a glance as he went. You kept stretching back the way you came, struggling but not truly putting all your energy into it. Felicia could tell. You loved being his center of attention for as long as possible, even if it kept you away from your wild pastimes. 

The sound of a horn echoed through the caves, sending the fungi white with the sound. The work day was finished. 

“Back to the last drop, then?” Felicia hummed, standing and offering a hand to the big man. He accepted it with a soft grin, following her out. The two of them watched Silco far ahead, who was now fully carrying you in your grieved state. You kept muttering you could have made it.

“Think they’ll ever get together?” she hummed, nudging Vander.

“Wish they would,” he sighed. “It was annoying years ago, now its just pitiful.”

She laughed, waving a hand at you when you pulled your head up from Silco’s shoulder to eye them. “Well, she’ll never do it. She’s convinced herself he’s too focused on our cause to ever settle down.”

“Some days I think the same thing,” Vander said, introspective when she glanced up at him, “others, I catch him looking at her. He doesn’t open up, barely does around us, but…”

“Disappears around her, yeah?” She smiled at him and he mirrored her, nodding.

Later that night, the Last Drop was bustling with the newest record added to the box. You’re dancing over chairs, running across the edge of the pool tables as people chant your name. Someone tossed a mug through the air and you caught it, swallowing the contents down and cheering with the rest before continuing on with dancing. 

Silco watched from his bar seat. He had cruel timing, turning his eyes back to his notebook when you pulled yourself away from the crowd to glance at him. To you, he was lost in his own world, but really he fell into yours quite easily. You were distracting. He perked up at the sound of your voice without meaning to, knew the outline of your body in his periphery. Abrasive and chaotic. You’re too much, too loud.

Too perfect for someone as withdrawn and stiff as him.

“Oh, heaven help me,” Vander grumbled, both hands on the bar as he stared at the scene. Silco paused to raise an eyebrow at him. “She just downed three shots in one.”

“How many does that make it now?” he questioned.

“Eight.”

Both of their heads dropped, knowing how the night would be going.

“All right, I give!” Felcia slammed a hand on the bar as she walked up, panting. “I can’t keep up with her. Gods. Where does she get the energy?”

Vander passed her a drink as Silco shrugged, music blaring all around them. Felicia scowled when she noticed his journal. 

“Oh, c’mon, Silco. Let loose for a bit!” she shouted over the din of the bar, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“If I did that, nothing would ever get done around here,” he returned, smirking as she rolled her eyes. 

The counter shook under them, the second bang of Vander’s fist sending both of them on high alert. Two meant trouble. 

Felicia spun around, Silco turned in his seat. There by the record player you were backed against the wall by a man, one arm caging you in while his fingers pinched your chin. The cold look in your eyes had a shiver streaking down Silco's spine. You were a storm like this and he’d been lost to it for years. 

The man said something that made you scoff, batting his hand away and sliding to get out from under him. As his hand grabbed your upper arm Silco realized he was no longer sitting. Even across the room he could read your lips.

“Last chance. Beat it,” you warned.

The man laughed and tugged you closer, it sent your knee right between his legs. When he bent over, Silco heard the crack as your fist met the man’s jaw. He hit the ground, dead weight. 

Fuck, he thought, hands curling into fists at his side. You were perfect.

You stumbled back a few steps. It seemed those shots had soaked in. You were cradling your hand as yells broke out, slow to turn as a couple of goons stood from a table nearby.

“Great,” Felicia puffed, pushing off the bar, “he had lackeys.”

Vander shouted as they ran at you, Silco was halfway to you when you dodged the first swing, putting you straight into the path of another. Your back hit the record player, a scratch disrupting the music. The entire bar turned, regulars rushing forward without second thought and jumping the goons. 

Silco went straight to you, mindful of the chair Felicia was brandishing overhead as she flew into the meat of the fight. 

“Let me see,” he said, sliding a hand under your jaw and tilting your head back. You were hunching, still holding that hand of yours to your chest. 

“Hey, Sil,” you slurred, grinning and wincing. Your lower lip was busted, the right side of your face already beginning to swell from the jaw up. “Can you believe that guy? Down in one hit, hah!”

“Still have all your teeth?” he asked, wiping the blood trailing from the corner of your mouth. 

“What? You want me to open wide for you?”

He ticked a brow, scowling through the heat that flashed through his stomach. 

“Come on, let’s get ice on that,” he muttered, wrapping an arm around you. You hummed happily, falling into his side. Even as drunk as you were, your feet barely stumbled as he led you to the basement door. He nodded to Vander who already had the same idea, coming around the back of the bar to pass him an ice pack and a clean rag. He thanked him.

“Take care of her,” Vander said, rubbing a hand over your back. You tossed the big man a smile before he returned to his station.

“Keep that on there,” Silco said to you, heart aching as you hissed at the touch of it. 

“I’ve got it,” you muttered, hand brushing his. He made sure you kept it pressed to your cheek before opening the door and helping you in first, careful of the stairs as he closed it behind him. The sounds of fighting and the skipping music was muffled as he led you into the bowels of the Last Drop, setting you down gently on the couch.

He reached for your hand, frowning when you turned away from him. 

“Let me see,” he said.

“It’s fine,” you grumbled, curling into the couch.

“I’d like to see that for myself,” he pushed, fingers gentle as they smoothed over your wrist. Your furrowed brow relaxed a bit, watery eyes trailing to him. “Let me see,” he asked again, softer.

You sighed, the weight of your arm settling into his palm as he moved to sit next to you. You hand shook in both of his, the skin of your knuckles ripped open and gushing red. When he attempted to move your pointer and middle fingers you whimpered, head falling into his shoulder.

He apologized, pulling one hand away to reach into his jacket. “It’s sprained. I’ll need to wrap it.”

“Sweet Sil,” you sighed, your good cheek rubbing against his shoulder as you brought your knees up, “always prepared for the worst.”

“I wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t constantly getting into trouble,” he hummed, pulling out a roll of bandages and beginning his work. You curled into him as he cleaned you up, tensing when he secured your bruised digits. As he tied the bandages off around your wrist, he sighed, holding your hand in his, thumb running over your skin. 

“M’sorry,” you sniffed.

He turned his head, a breath punched from his lungs as he saw tears slipping down your cheeks. The ice pack laid abandoned in your lap. 

“What are you apologizing for?” he murmured, brushing your hair out of your face. 

“I always make a mess,” you whispered, little gasps slipping. Each one was a bullet to his chest. He couldn’t stand seeing you cry. “I always annoy you.”

“No,” he murmured, arms stretching over you to pull you into his lap, “no, you don’t annoy me, pet.”

“Yes, I do,” you sobbed. “I get into t-trouble when I-when I just want you to look at me.”

Oh, Gods help him. He knew this was the alcohol talking but the hopeful flame in his heart was burning into a torch. He needed to calm you down and get you to bed. 

“I’m looking,” he said, lips grazing your forehead as he rubbed your back. “You don’t have to try so hard. I’m always looking.”

You sniffed and he grabbed the bloody rag, nudging the cleanest corner towards you to blow your nose. He chuckled when you groaned, curling deeper into his chest.

“Too drunk for this,” you mumbled. “Stupid shots.”

“Stupid shots, indeed,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Let's get you some water and go to bed.”

You whined, hiding your face in his neck. “Wanna stay here. M’warm.”

He sighed, settling into the couch. Eventually you would nod off. He’d carry you into bed, then.

“Hair’s nice.”

“What?” he chuckled, trying to look down at you, but it was impossible with you smushed up against him.

“Your hair,” you said, lips moving against his neck. “I like it when it’s bun. Hair frames your face nice. S’handsome.”

You’re going to hate yourself in the morning, he thought, holding back his laughter. You were never going to live this down and he wasn’t nearly nice enough to not tease you about this for the rest of your life. 

“Face hurts,” you sighed. He rubbed your calf, shushing you.

“Sleep, pet,” he murmured against your forehead. 

“You’ll stay?” you asked.

“I’ll stay,” he promised.

[am-i-interrupting]

DAMN!!! He’s so FINE!!!!!!

[am-i-interrupting]

Still remember when a homo- and transphobic acquaintance tried to bring up JKR’s views on trans people in conversation and I shut it down with «oh yeah she’s been saying a lot of dumb shit on Twitter after she finished writing Harry Potter, like when she claimed Dumbledore was gay, just to be politically correct», which made it absolutely impossible for him to admit that he agreed with anything JKR had ever said. Sometimes you just have to weaponise people’s homophobia against their transphobia.

[am-i-interrupting]

Are you continuing the Silco fanfic "Can’t Go Back"?

Yes, I do plan on it. I’ll likely get a spark for writing it again after watching this new season when it’s finished (no spoilers please, I’m waiting for it all to come out so I can binge it and cry) and I’ll probably end up rewriting it since I feel like I can do better on it.

[am-i-interrupting]

Aaravos x reader where reader is also a startouch elf who was Aaravos’s lover but got imprisoned at the same time he did but in a different prison so instead of trying to lead Claudia and Viren to his prison he’s insisting they save his lover (but in his own ‘No! You can’t do it on your own you need this elf’s help!’ To avoid revealing something that would break his mystery facade- maybe reader had like a pet that guards their last residence and Aaravos is just like ‘oh yeah, that’s just ___ he bites.’ Feel free to add some plot to this it’s just a lil scenario that poofed into mah brain hole.

🌟 anon

Oh hello 🌟 anon. Thanks for the request >:3

Side note: sorry this was a bit rushed, especially towards the end. I’d be happy to part two it if you guys want.

After Leola’s death, you and Aaravos shared your grief. When you had no more tears to cry, and the crater of her demise was full to the brim, you began plotting your revenge.

At first, everything was going great. No one suspected a thing.

But then, a human girl— A human girl, had the audacity to stick her nose into where it did not belong, and rat you two out to the arch dragons.

It all happened so fast, one moment Aaravos was shielding his lover from the onslaught of attacks; and then the next they were both enveloped in a crude, blinding light.

Your look of horror was the last thing he saw before he too was imprisoned.

The two of you were both granted a visage through intricate looking glasses, spared with only one shellshocked glance at each other before you were given to the arch dragon of ocean, Domina Profundis.

Every day, and every night, Aaravos cried in his prision.

First Leola, his kind and loving daughter, and now his spouse: the only thing he had left in this cruel world.

Everything seemed hopeless.

He might never hold you in his embrace.

You two might never see each other again.

That was until a middle-aged dark mage stumbled upon his looking glass. How it got from the clutches of Avizandum and Zubeia to the treasury of Katolis, he didn’t know. But old habits die hard, and Aaravos didn’t mind reusing some old tricks…

“Avizandum is dead.”

What…?

Avizandum, King Of The Dragons, the ringleader in his and his lover’s imprisonment. He was dead.

Aaravos felt a satisfaction he had not felt in a long time. Not only was this going to make his schemes easier, but hearing the news of his passing made Aaravos almost giddy with joy. Maybe he wasn’t the one to end Avizandum’s life, but knowing of his death was almost just as good.

Maybe this middle-aged, emotionally fragile man had potential. Maybe he would be a useful pawn.

Finally, after centuries in his prision, escape was within his grasp. He could leave this dreaded place. He could take revenge upon those wretched dragons and elves.

But in a final moment, he relented.

“No.”

“What do mean ‘no’? We’re this close to freeing you!” Claudia squawked indignantly, pinching her fingers together to emphasise her point.

“You need to free someone else first. Someone just as powerful, and just as essential to the plan.” Aaravos insisted, his ghost-like apparition pointing a finger to a second dot on the map.

“And who would that be?” Viren inquired, Raising and an eyebrow in suspicion.

The star touched elf resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His use for the old man was beginning to dwindle. “You will see when the time comes.”

Reluctantly, he managed to get Viren, Claudia, and Terry to agree, though the earthblood elf didn’t really put up much of an argument.

Roaring and ticketing sounded through the mountain where your prison was kept. Allegedly, the magic orb that contained you was imbedded into an ancient tree. In order to acquire it, the tree needed to be felled. Easy, right? Wrong.

The tree was guarded by a serpent-like dragon by the name of Mortem, who’s bite held enough venom to kill an archdragon.

“Don’t get bit.” Aaravos instructed.

He was so close to you. He could feel your energy radiating through the mountain.

And somehow, the earthblood elf managed to lead Mortem away and distract him long enough without getting bit for Claudia and Viren to cut down the tree and grab your prision.

The scrambled journey back down the mountain made his breath bait in anticipation. This was it. He was finally going to be able to see you again.

Once the ritual was complete, your giant form kneeled down to look the three mortals in the eye. Shrinking yourself down, his ghostly appearance caught your eye.

“Aaravos?” You ask incredulously.

“I’m here, beloved.”

I’m here…

[am-i-interrupting]

PART 2 YOU SAD FOLKS!

Aaravos getting ready to propose to you with the help of leola Hc

Aaravos x reader Hc

{Fluff} @delusional-mushroom

Warnings: none

Sorry if this seems rushed it's really late at night 😭 but I think it's cute. This is not proofread whatsoever, so if there are spelling errors, I apologize. I will look it over in the morning and fix it up.

It's been a while since you moved in with Aaravos and leola, and things are going amazing.

Leola is fully attached to you at the hip. You are her second parent.

Anyways

It was an early morning.

AND I MEAN HELLA EARLY

The sun was hardly even up

Cause leola woke you up and dragged you out of bed. Reminding you that you promised to take her on a morning walk.

As you are forced from your slumber, you notice Aaravos isn't in bed, which you find odd. So you ask her

"Hey unicorn, where is your dad?" You ask

She just giggles and pulls you out the front door

" he's gone into town for a little bit he will be back soon, though!" She tells you with a cheeky giggle

You don't put much thought into it, though, as it's pretty normal for her. Though you are curious as to why Aaravos left for town before dawn even broke. Normally, he would tell you.

As the sun rises, you and leola walk. On your journey, you point out bits of nature that are absolutely gorgeous in the morning light, and she's just so happy to see everything.

She will sometimes run ahead a bit, pointing at animals and flowers and plants she finds interesting. Her little eyes practically glowed with happiness

It's absolutely adorable

On your way back, you notice Aaravose walking into the house.

As soon as you point at him, leola grabs your hand and pulls you off. Now walking through a field away from the direction of the house, and looking back, you swear you saw him shooing you both off from the window

You are hella confused

You try asking leola about this odd behavior, but once again, she just starts laughing and distracting you. Everything today is just odd, and you're starting to sense it.

This goes on all day.

You see Aaravos in the distance, and leola will just laugh and pull you away. Not dare letting you get close to him or telling you anything.

And you have noticed him just watching the two of you from afar. It's not that uncommon, but today it's just even more odd, and with leolas behavior today, everything is suspicious, and you just wanna know what's happening

Until you and leola were making little rock towers, Aaravos came up behind you. It honestly surprised you, making you jump and accidentally knock your rock tower over

He offers you his hand to help you stand up, and he shoos his daughter off with a wink. She jumps up from her seat and squeals with excitement, waving her hands in front of her with a bright smile, and she runs away

Once she's gone, he begins walking you through the field as the sun sets, you try to ask him what's been going on all day and why him and leola had been acting funny but he just dismisses it

"Don't mind that, you'll know in just a moment."

You roll your eyes but continue to follow him. The both of you chat, and you tell him all about what you and leola got up to today. As you talk to him about your little adventures, he just admires you. Sometimes, forgetting to respond or react. He almost seems nervous.

You both walk a little longer before stopping by a little stream that looks almost golden due to the light. A little blanket has been set out with flowers and little magic stones lining the edges as well as a little basket that has been placed in the middle.

"Oh my god this is beautiful!" You say as you look at the scene. Before you can sit down though he grabs you lightly

"Y/n I have a very important question for you." He says, taking your hands as you face him

As you are about to ask him what's going on you hear a little whisper from a nearby bush

"Did they say yes???"

You and Aaravos share a smile before you raise your eyebrow and look over to see leolas face sticking out of the leaves.

"I didn't even get to finish asking silly."

He says to her with a laugh. As she sighs impatiently and rolls her eyes.

"Whats taking so long. All you gotta say it 'will you marry me' its very simple" She says, tilting her head to the side before shaking her head. Her eyes suddenly go wide as her arm pops out of the bush to cover her mouth

"Oop! Sorry dad!" She says quickly

Both you and Aaravos are shocked, but you are quick to break the silence luckily.

"You're asking me to marry you?" You say with a smile as you look up at him. You are a bit shocked as you were not expecting this so soon, but you are overjoyed

"Yes, I was, but it seems our little unicorn decided to ask for me." He jokes, shaking his head from side to side with a grin a little embarrassed and worried about your response

" Yes."

"What?"

"Yes. Of I will marry you."

You say with a wide smile. Aaravos let's out a loud sigh of relief and quickly pulls you in for a hug.

As you both pull back, leola jumps out of the bush and hugs both you and Aaravos as hard as she can, not letting yall go for a minute.and you all share a laugh.

After a moment, Aaravos kisses you i celebration of your now engagement, and leola turns away and dramatically gags. While loudly saying "Ewww"

Making you roll your eyes at Aaravos. Before chuckling.

"Well, I guess that's the queue to sit down and eat then." You joke as you all sit down on the blanket and open the little basket of food.

It was a simple engagement. With a few hiccups, but it didn't matter to any of you. All that mattered is that you are all finally a family,and for all of you that's more that you could have ever asked for 🖤

[am-i-interrupting]

Maybe an Aaravos x reader where reader is Leola’s step parent? Like maybe mr. Aara-dilf introduces the two when Leola was she was slightly older — maybe like 9 or 10 (or the star touched elf equivalent idk bro). How would their relationship and dynamic play out? 🤔

Omg hey mootie! I absolutely love this and I hope it's alright that I decided to write this in a headcannon format instead! It's just a little blurb bit if you like it I would be happy to write more!

Aaravos introducing you to his daughter

Aaravos x reader HC

Requests are open in my inbox!

{Pure Fluff <3}

warnings: none <3

You and Aaravos had been seeing each other for a while now, and it was going amazing

One day, you both were walking about on a little date if you would, when he decided to ask you one of the most horrifying questions known to mankind

"Would you be inclined to meet my daughter?"

It's not that it was scary because of who she was but mostly because you had never been with a man who had a child. And you did not know how his daughter would react.

What if he had brought another before you to her and she liked his previous lover better?

What if she just hated you for some reason?

You were terrified. But seeing the look of joy and excitement on his face when you agreed gave you a bit of hope.

When the day comes that you are to meet her Aaravos is pretty convinced his little girl will love you. He had spoken about her many times leading up to this day, like how she was very smart and loved making friends with everybody. It was really sweet

When you first meet Leola, she's curious about you; she even looks at her dad and says, "What is this?" And you weren't sure if she was talking about you or the situation.

But as the day goes on leola warms up to you really fast. Like within a couple hours you have become her best friend.

And as your relationship with Aaravos and leola grows and you start coming around more often she just gets more attached.

She asks her dad about you all the time

"When's y/n coming over again?"

"Is y/n coming over today?

"Y/n would love this!"

"I wanna see y/n"

Like she asks about you so much Aaravos starts low-key getting jealous,but he finds it adorable that leola loves you so much.

If at one point you move in with them leola is fucking ecstatic.

She is so happy her best friend is now living with her and her dad

Like she's probably happier then Aaravos about it.

After awhile though she slowly starts giving you a parental title

When it happened the first time, you thought it was a slip-up, but as time went on, Leola just adopted you as her second parent, and neither you nor Aaravos corrected her.

As a matter of fact, it makes Aaravos love you even more. He is so happy he has found someone that he loves and cares for who is not only amazing with his little unicorn, but that she also loves enough to start deeming you a parental figure

It honestly makes him want to marry you. 🤭 (I will make a part two with proposal HC / oneshot if yall want me to)

[am-i-interrupting]

Stardust

Vassal- Liege in Russian

Anak means child in filipino and Arao sounds alot like araw, which means day so I'm interpreting it as child of day

–——————

Grief, Sadness and Rage. The pain in you felt could not be described by words, the moment your daughters hand left yours; rage and grief swallowed your very being whole.

You helplessly watched as your darling daughter floated away from your arms, your heart shattered and broke into pieces, hearing her cry out for her parents, her father and you.

"LEOLA..!!" you yelled out in pain, desperately holding your daughter in your arms as she began to levitate away from you. "Papa..mama, I'm scared..!" You shielded her from the eyes of the council. Before you ultimately joined her.

———————

Doing your best to sooth her, you embraced her tightly as you and your beloved defended her from the wrath of the council. "She broke the cosmic order." You gritted your teeth in anger as you held her. "She is but a child! If the humans had stumbled upon a trick or two She is not at fault..!" You responded with venom in your tone, trying to keep calm for your darling's sake.

"There is a witness" one of them spoke, a female startouch elf continued "Anak Arao" Aaravos eyes widened in surprise. "What? She is a child, if she helped humans it was out of compassion, out of love" he held leola's hand as she hid in your chest.

"This wasn't defiance!" He continued as one of the elves spoke again, saying it was the beginning of chaos and destruction. "The price must be paid" the elf spoke.

You held her tight in your arms as you finally stood up giving her one last kiss on her forehead before turning to face them. "Then take mine! Please, without her–" you held her in your arms again. "Our lives are not worth living.." Aaravos continued as he held you both, shielding you from the Watchful gazes of the council.

The council stared for a moment before the merciful one appeared. "Perhaps we shall compromise" they spoke "Perhaps we can show mercy" the others agreed as another said; "very well, Aaravos, Vassal..the council has decreed, if you so choose; you will die with your daughter.."

Aaravos was taken aback by their proposal. "To die with our daughter?!" You yelled out "how is this mercy?!" One of the elves looked away and stated that the line between mercy and cruelty can be thin.

To live on without your child would be torture, you wanted to live but you could not live without your precious gem. "I'm scared, what's gonna happen?" Aaravos knelt down and took her in his arms. Reassuring her as she cried in fear.

"Don't worry, darling. I'll always be with you. Even if you can't feel me" he said soothing her. You looked at your beloved for a moment before giving him one last kiss.

"Don't be afraid my darling, mother will be with you." You said softly as she cried out, huddling in your Arms calling out for him. "There is nothing to fear, close your eyes!" His voice was shaking with pain as he watched the most precious things in his life float away.

"Don't fret my dearest, mother is with you. I'm here, I'll always be with you leola" you said hugging her in your arms "I'm with you leola, I am here and I love you I will always be with you my darling" your voice remained soft as light enveloped you both.

You held her tight as you both fell from the stars, the pain He felt, loosing his mate and his child made him feel pain he never thought could have been possible.

For a hundred years he cried, his tears filled the crater where you both fell. His heart bled in pain as he grieved over his child and beloved.

Ever since then, he had one goal, To make the stars pay for the pain they caused, for taking away his family.

[am-i-interrupting]

Maybe an aaravos x reader that takes place after Leola’s death? Like maybe aaravos is scared to lose reader so he gets really paranoid (potentially a bit yandere?) and acts really protective. Maybe reader was taken hostage so he could be imprisoned and their face was the last thing he saw.

And perhaps, if your comfortable with it of course, reader gets reincarnated and aaravos gets glimpses of them every now and then, maybe through the mirror, or maybe they tag along with the crew and he sees them while possessing Callum. Or maybe when he’s flying Sol Regem to burn down Katolis, he specifically makes sure they’re out of the way of the fire.

And at the end of it all, he’s freed from his prison (and fucking gigantic wtf) and the one thing on his mind is finding reader.

Your choice on whether it’s platonic or romantic.

To Be Loved by a God

Warning: Death mentioned

After leola's death, Something changed in your husband, he had became paranoid, protective and almost Possessive. It wasn't a surprise that he became protective it seems for have gotten worse.

He'd always want to be with your side, never wanting to leave you alone. It felt suffocating, you tried to remain understanding but it was more difficult than you had imagined.

You kept reassuring him that you'd be fine but he refused to listen, Aaravos was always protective no matter what but leola's death only intensified his antics. He became more tense more on guard.

Refusing to easily trust people and having a general distrust among the archdragons ever since what happened with Sol regem. You thought everything would've been fine but you were wrong so so wrong.

You were tied to your back as you watched the orphan queen stabbing your beloved. The lady known as jailer held you down on the ground tears escaping your eyes.

You screamed and yelled out for him, begging them to let him go, to take your life instead but your cries fell on deaf ears. Once he was imprisoned you were left to your grief.

The next time Aaravos saw the archdragons he demanded they let you go or let him see you. And they did, for the first time aaravos felt like he had died again. Seeing your bruised body as you knelt Infront of the mirror.

Aaravos called out to you worry staining his face as it slowly morphed into anger he yelled for them to let you go, to forget you had any part in this. He begged you to forget him, to forget you had known him, for your safety but you refused, staying loyal.

If you had listened perhaps you would've been alive. Aaravos screamed, in terror and pain as he saw you bleed, Blood pouring out of your chest as you choked. They killed you, they took you from him.

He could only cry, banging the mirror as your now lifeless body fell to the ground, Blood pooling beneath your body. The sight haunted him for centuries. Whenever he slept he keeps remembering leola crying for him and everytime he's unable to prevent her from leaving his arms.

The worst part was seeing your body, still and unmoving, Blood pooled on the pristine marble floor as he held you. The Blood staining his hands as he could only cry out for you.

Indescribable, unfiltered rage overwhelmed his heart, slowly filling the void left by yours and leola's death, he promised to avenge you and your daughter, promising to see you again one day when he accomplished his goal.

[am-i-interrupting]

Cuddling with Aaravos Hcs

rahhh fluff‼️‼️‼️

🥀Cw: none really, fluff

so we ALLL know aaravos is clingy after his imprisonment

like ur personal space is his personal space

but when u cuddle with him hes a whole different breed of clingy

it took him a while to adjust to physical contact after his imprisonment cuz he hadnt felt another touch or heard another voice (besides virens) in like 500(???) years

you would have to slowly reintroduce him to cuddling and physical contact

it would take time, u obviously dont want to overwhelm him

but once hes readjusted, hes ALL OVER U<3

he'll probably have to be the big spoon cuz of his horns

but if u dont mind being poked every so often then he would love to be held by you

he would pretend not to enjoy it bc hes a prideful little bitch but he will MELT into ur arms and will most likely fall asleep cuz u just make him feel so safe

he honestly just wants to hold u or be held

if you arent the biggest cuddler, he would enjoy simply laying beside u and holding hands

i feel like he would enjoy laying on top of you even if he squished u while u play with his hair or rub his horns

kiss every star on his face

ur most likely smaller than him, so if u guys are spooning and hes the big spoon he loves just... engulfing you and resting his head on top of yours while his arms wrap around you and your legs are tangled together <3

he will read to you while the two of you are cuddling!!! he knows u love his voice and will tease u ab it but secretly finds it endearing

i feel like he would have nightmares ngl and when he wakes up from one he always pulls you close bc hes just scared of losing you

this man does not gaf ab what anyone thinks and will not hesitate to pull you onto his lap and cuddle with u in public

he always has an arm around your shoulder or waist‼️

he always needs to be touching you while the two of you are sleeping together, it's another little reminder that your there and that hes safe

he LOVES it when you count the stars on his skin or kiss them, when hes shirtless i hc he has a lot of stars on his back and you trace them with a finger while u guys r cuddling

overall, hes clingy and obsessed with u and totally in love w u <3 he loves cuddles, and he loves u, so he loves cuddling with u 🤯🤯🤯

can u tell im exhausted ahahahhahaah i love him sm this is so self indulgent 😭ive been reading some aaravos fanfiction recently and i feel like i write him so ooc in comparison to some writers and its been making me slightly lose motivation bc i just dont feel good enough but i really wanted to post this anyway!! hope u enjoy!!

[am-i-interrupting]

imagine leaving lipstick marks on lucifer

18+

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

imagine harmlessly kissing his cheek before he heads out to a meeting. you pull back and laugh to yourself. lucifer looks at you dreamily but when your giggles don’t cease he gets nervous

“what? do i have something on my face?”

“yes, actually.” you sigh out a final bubble of laughter, scanning your vanity for a wipe to clean his cheek

lucifer’s breathe hitched when he peeped in the mirror. whipping around, he snatches your hands thus stopping your hunt. his eyes are wild, he’s literally bouncing with excitement

“gimme more,” he breathes

“luci, you were supposed to leave already!”

“please? pretty please with a cherry on top? one more and-and i’ll go. yeah, just one more.” he sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than you

“you, lucifer, the king of hell,” you stepped closer and closer until he stumbled back into your vanity. he completely forgot he was holding onto you. “are gonna go to a meeting covered in lipstick?”

lucifer whined, a heavy blush erupting across his face. his fingers tightened and he swallowed thickly on nothing

“covered?” he peeped

“oh you poor thing,” you hummed, “you can’t think about anything else, can you?”

you slid your leg between his and felt the answer. with a moan, lucifer’s head dropped back but you were quick to catch and cradle it. his hat fell and rolled off the vanity onto the floor. nosing his exposed neck had him trembling in anticipation

“please?” he slurred

“this isn’t responsible, ducky.” you replied, pulling his bow tie loose and adding it to the ground’s collection

“no,” lucifer agreed breathlessly

he pathetically gripped your shirt, trying desperately not to grind against your leg

“but it’s what you want?”

you were already unbuttoning his shirt with one, adept hand

“yes.”

even though lucifer knew it was coming, his body jolted when you kissed his neck. he was always so sensitive, so responsive, so good

you gifted him loving bruises that would later peak out of his collar, and in return he sang for you. his moans and whimpers were your favorite to hear and he never failed to give you what you wanted. lucifer couldn’t stop himself from rutting against your leg as you painted him in a shade that was undeniably you

after successfully transferring the lipstick onto lucifer, you retreated. gods did he whine when you did. you pulled his hair to force his gaze towards the mirror

“look how pretty you are,” you purred in his ear, gently planting a kiss there too

out of the corner of his eye, lucifer could see the collar you gave him. it damn near drove him over the edge. his dick was painfully hard, it was a miracle he didn’t cream his pants

“gonna go to that meeting?” you teased sweetly

lucifer shook his head like you’d asked something ludicrous, “nuh-uh.”

“good,” turning his head back to you, you presented the tube of lipstick, “i wanna get messy.”

[am-i-interrupting]

Because You're Mine ~ Soul Owner Alastor Headcanons

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬: Possessiveness, infatuation, obsessive thoughts, power imbalance, slight jealousy, Alastor being creepy asf, and scent marking.

🎙️ The moment you'd arrived at the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor's eyes were always on you, sharp and scrutinizing your every move. At first, you'd believed that he hated you, that, if you ever made the grave mistake of being left alone with him, he'd practically eat you alive.

🎙️ But your sweet, confused little mind couldn't be farther from the truth. No, no, no, Alastor had spent weeks since your arrival was made apparent trying to figure out every little thing about you; the style of clothes that you wore, the foods you preferred, what you were looking for in a husband.

🎙️ You didn't need to know about all the strings that Alastor had pulled, just to have you fall into his waiting arms. And the hotel was the perfect place to lure you in to make you avoid the dangers of Hell, and seek out his help.

🎙️ Your soul for Alastor's protection seemed like a small price to pay to not end up being a gory stain on the side of the sizzling-hot road.

🎙️ And Alastor was more than happy to provide any kind of security for you, the demon almost immediately agreeing to your simple terms, an eager smile and waiting hand stretched out for you to shake.

🎙️ Although you'd always had the feeling of being constantly watched, ever since you'd sold your soul to Alastor, the sensation of eyes burning into you had gotten so much worse. Which, quite conveniently, led to his sweet little doe running straight into his comforting hold to run to, more than once.

🎙️ "Don't worry, my sweet little chérie," he'd coo softly into your ear, "I won't allow anything to harm you.”

🎙️ You'd thought that selling your soul to the Radio Demon would require you to do a great many tasks for him, but this? This was much worse than what you had anticipated.

🎙️ Alastor is usually very averse to touch, but when it comes to you, practically nothing is off-limits. He always has an arm around your shoulder or waist, squeezing you closer whenever others get too cozy with you. He just can’t keep his hands off you! 

🎙️ You'd attempted to set your boundaries with the clingy, feverish demon and his erratic impulses - especially when it came to touching you - but a quick tug of a burning-hot chain that linked your soul to him put you in your sweet little place quite easily.

🎙️ The final straw, however, was when Alastor insisted that the two of you share a bed. Soon, you'd started doing just about anything to avoid your Master, scurrying away at any sign of the Radio Demon lingering nearby.

🎙️ He noticed this, of course. But he bore it with an eyeroll and a twitching smile, allowing you your temper tantrum, for now. His darling wife just needed to blow off some steam.

🎙️Yes, Alastor would allow you time to become more used to your arrangements, for a time. But it wasn't until he caught you chatting - and laughing - with the goddamned Devil himself that he finally snapped, and quickly took you aside in private.

🎙️ "I'm getting quite fed up with your little attitude, darling..." he strung you along by a glowing green chain with gritted teeth, and you lurched forward onto your hands and knees. His gaze was dark yet adoring as he stared down at you, wrapping the end of your chain tightly around his claws.

🎙️ "I realize that I've been much too lenient with you, ma biche. Now, do allow me to demonstrate just who you belong to..."

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers

@slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @ashdaidiot, @crybabycat1, @repostingmyfavs, @reikamasama, @dudesorriso, @speckle-meow-meow, @alastor-simp

@maggotzdilemma, @nonbinaryanarchist0013, @martinys-world, @introvertreader20, @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhha,

@a-small-tyrant, @roxxie-wolf, @crescentparadise, @blubugg13, @alastorthirsty,

@theperfectmangovoid, @jyoongim, @littlebluefishtail, @katlovestoread, @leonotlara,

@cimadreamer

[am-i-interrupting]

hi!! ive been walking the halls of your blog and you are legit one of the coolest people out there whar 😭

anywhom, uh, what do you think of the hazbin men x musical theater fan reader?? like, the sings-showtimes-outta-nowhere type person.

you can totes ignore this idm 👍

-🪲 (you’ll probs see me a lot in your inbox)

THEATRE HEADCANONS .ᐟ

alastor / vox / lucifer / adam x reader (seperate)

"did you fucking see that!?"

⤖ synopsis ; some of the hazbin hotel men with a reader who adores musicals!

⤖ notices : none.

⤖ missive ; i'm honoured that you believe so! i will add you to the anon list and thank you for the kind words, as well as the request! enjoy this broadcast!

⤖ ALASTOR

☼        he would honestly be a musical person as well!

☼        while he does prefer the musicals of his time, he would have no issue going to a theatre with you and seeing some musicals.

☼        while he does state that his time had the best theatre performances, he would be lying if he said he didn't tap his foot a few times throughout the new musicals that released.

☼        believe it or not, hell actually does have a theatre!

☼        it's located in cannibal town where some of the residents put on performances, and alastor does truly enjoy watching them.

☼        if you're the type who likes to randomly sing out songs, he'd sing with you.

☼        and if he can recall the dances they did during the song, he'll lead you into the dance.

⤖ VOX

☼        he wouldn't care if you liked musicals, for he would like some too.

☼        he's not a huge musical fan, but he would know some of the classics of his time. he enjoys watching those or he'd even let you introduce him to some of your favourite musicals.

☼        he either likes the mean girls musical or six the musical.

☼        vox would sing some songs with you if he knew them, but if you break out into song, he'd search up the karaoke version and just let you sing.

☼        though he would record it either for blackmail or just for him to watch later.

⤖ LUCIFER

☼        he would adore musicals with you!

☼        you want to watch a musical? he's right there with you.

☼        you're breaking out into song? he's joining you.

☼        no matter where he is, he'll literally break out into song. whether you did first or not.

☼        he's a musical man, what can he say?

☼        you'd hear him singing in the kitchen as he cooked, and when you walk in, he'd dance with you.

☼        he's goofy like that.

⤖ ADAM

☼        no. just no.

☼        unless it's like rock, he wouldn't like it. he doesn't care that you like musicals, but he doesn't like them.

☼        he just finds it irritating that in the middle of conversations, the actors would break out into song.

☼        though, he wouldn't mind if you randomly sang out songs. he likes hearing you sing, but he wouldn't sing with you, or watch musicals with you.

☼        he refuses to watch musicals.

☼        he'd probably assign lute to go do that with you, and you'd both have a fun time.

⤖ word count ; too lazy to count

© soleilplume

☼         reblogs + hearts + comments are appreciated !

[am-i-interrupting]

Alastor x Alastor's shadow x fem!extremely powerful Overlord reader who's just as sadistic and psychotic as Alastor (if not more) and she's known as the Black Death since she lived during that time and is what killed her and since she arrived in Hell, she's been considered as Death itself given form, and she's silent, extremely creepy and wherever she is, it's cold and drained of all life, hcs?

I really enjoyed writing these <3 I love me some OP Reader. This one is also long ASF so strap in, ya'll.

Immortal She - Alastor x Powerful!Reader

𝐓𝐡��𝐦𝐞𝐬: Overpowered!Reader, obsession, jealousy, Alastor being attention-starved, dealmaking, and possessive behavior.

🎙️ It was no surprise that Alastor had soon taken notice of you through the rumors that ran rampant through the streets about your mystery. People loved to talk in Cannibal Town, and the first he’d heard of you, his curiosity was quickly piqued. 

🎙️ The idea of such an ancient being, almost as old as Zestial himself, with unimaginable powers that eluded any direct encounter with a Sinner – and even Lucifer himself – was quite the entertaining prospect, indeed.

🎙️ Perhaps he should’ve felt intimidated, maybe even resentful in the face of the power that you supposedly wielded, since he never enjoyed being in the presence of those more powerful than him, but the mention of you only fed his interest.  

🎙️ A few other Overlords were also quite interested in you – Vox in particular, to Alastor's immense irritation – though they were looking for a deal to be made, a contract to be signed. But he wanted something more... personal with you. 

🎙️ But you rarely ever let another Sinner gain the upper hand, and you weren't known for making deals with Overlords, despite the hundreds of thousands of souls you owned. Plus, you were quite difficult to track.  

🎙️ Even Alastor, ever a seasoned hunter, was having trouble cornering you. But despite that, all he felt was gnawing curiosity as he chased after your mystery, experiencing frustration only when he couldn’t find out anything about you.

🎙️ He’d even started paying attention during the meetings he’d been called upon to attend, in hopes of finally encountering you. He refused to call his infatuation with you anything more than what he usually called it; a simple need for entertainment. 

🎙️ A part of Alastor - a buried, slightly fangirlish part - admirably commended your commitment to remaining a complete mystery, but all shadows were brought to light eventually. 

🎙️ And God himself must have heard his silent, tireless pleas, since Zestial brought you along with him to one fateful Overlord meeting, and many had raised their eyebrows at the mention of your name. Or rather, your title. You didn’t consider any particular Sinner – other than Zestial – to be deserving of your true name. 

🎙️ So instead, your old friend introduced you as the ‘Black Death,’ your alias within the Pride Ring. 

🎙️ Clearly, as Alastor predicted, you were already acquainted with the elder Overlord, and traded small pleasantries with him before sitting down right next to him. A prickle of something he didn’t wish to identify as jealousy stung him straight in the heart as he watched you.

🎙️ Carmilla greeted you with a small smile and a nod, and you silently returned the gesture, before getting right down to business. 

🎙️ Throughout the entire meeting, Alastor was transfixed by you; the cold, unfeeling aura that you exuded, how your mere presence made the room at least twenty degrees colder, and the plague mask that you wore.

🎙️ Once the meeting had ended, his ears drooped in slight disappointment; he didn't want to wait for entire month to see you again after only just meeting you. He hadn't even said a word to you, yet!

🎙️ Suddenly, when all the others departed, you turned to him with a raised eyebrow, cold eyes flashing with a speck of emotion; curiosity.

🎙️ “You have been staring at me since this meeting began,” you bluntly stated, your tone even, despite the thousands of voices that echoed yours in a ghostly chorus.

🎙️ Alastor blinked in surprise, but his heart pounded with sudden hope. He'd been waiting for a moment like this, to converse with you.

🎙️ “Well, you cannot fault me for being curious, can you~?” His smile grinned even wider; talking to a being like you - no, just you in general was intoxicating.

🎙️ Curiosity. The folly of oh-so many Sinners that came before him, braver or stupider than their peers, and gaining the confidence to mess with you.

🎙️ A pity, really; the demon had such a lovely singing voice. And from what you heard on his radio shows, his taste in music wasn't bad, either. It reminded you of a classier, jazzier era, where quality was favored over quantity.

🎙️ "So, you're looking to make a deal, aren't you?" The moment his ears perked upwards in interest, you internally groaned. At least this would be an entertaining waste of your time.

🎙️ "Quite sharp, aren't you?" Alastor teased, some part of him hoping to elicit something other than that mundane boredom you were expressing, now. "Though, I would expect as much from a being as powerful as you."

🎙️ You shrugged. "And your type tend to be quite... predictable, if I say so, myself," you enjoyed the way his ears bristled and leaned back, "But, I suppose I can make time for such a thing. It has been a while since I've made a proper deal."

🎙️ After asking him to name his terms, he put it rather simply. He'd offer you the golden cure to your boredom - which would be spending time with him, as he rather arrogantly put it - and you'd spend some time at his latest investment: the Hazbin Hotel.

🎙️ Though you raised an eyebrow at his terms, you agreed after some contemplation. There truly was nothing for you to occupy yourself with - not like you'd truly admit that to Alastor, of all demons - and you were growing agonizingly bored with routine.

🎙️ Perhaps sponsoring the jubilant Princess's little project wouldn't be such a dull venture, after all.

🎙️ When you silently nodded, agreeing to his terms, Alastor swiftly took your outstretched hand. He squeezed it firmly for a bit longer than what was considered appropriate, reveling in the strange, pleasurable coldness that enveloped your joined hands.

🎙️ You watched as he strolled out of the building with an obvious pep in his step. Of course, yet another Sinner getting a power trip out of "cornering you".

🎙️ You snarled silently at the thought, before melting into the shadows behind you without a sound. No one, not even the Radio Demon, cornered you.

🎙️ But honestly? The only reason Alastor was this elated was because he managed to catch your attention, plus strike a deal with you. Your eyes were completely on him, as they always should be.

🎙️ Yes, this was bound to be quite the entertaining partnership...

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers

@slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @ashdaidiot, @crybabycat1, @repostingmyfavs, @reikamasama, @dudesorriso, @speckle-meow-meow, @alastor-simp

@maggotzdilemma, @nonbinaryanarchist0013, @martinys-world, @introvertreader20, @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhha,

@a-small-tyrant, @roxxie-wolf, @crescentparadise, @blubugg13, @alastorthirsty,

@theperfectmangovoid, @jyoongim, @littlebluefishtail, @katlovestoread, @leonotlara,

@cimadreamer,

[am-i-interrupting]

#2 "Things I ✨️LOVE✨️ the idea of" (because I can't share these things with people irl...)

[Explicit content: minors DNI!]

The Vees x Model!Reader

Imagine being one of Velvette's models and hearing her and Valentino are doing a collaboration on a new lingerie line. Who better to do the job than her favorite model? You may have expected to be a part of this photoshoot (being her favorite and all), but what you didn't expect was to be played with like a toy in front of everyone~

[I do NOT own Hasbin Hotel or it's characters, do NOT repost my content elsewhere please and thank you! Minors DNI!]

CW: Lingerie, exhibitionism, vibrating underwear, dirty talk,

You quickly get changed as you enter the studio and make your way in front of the cameras. Surprisingly the clothing item covers all your bits, though, it definitely accentuates your body in the best ways, not leaving much to the imagination. Velvette quickly directs you in position on the floor in front of the cameras. You're currently sitting on your knees with your palms resting on them, listening to Valentino and Velvette discuss the vision for the photoshoot. It's not surprising that Valentino is involved in the process, after all it is a collaborative project. However, you didn't expect him to be THIS involved. Velvette's instructions are usually short and to the point. "On the floor, on your knees," is how she'd spoken to you earlier. Is it that she's more predictable? Or maybe you're used just to the way she orders you around. It's almost as if she expect you to know exactly what she's thinking in that moment. Valentino, on the other hand, still expects you to know what to do, but is unpredictable in his motives. "Ooolala look at you, chica! You're going to make us so much moneyyy~" he had said, grinning when you came into the room. You nodded respectfully and shyly smiled back at him, "Hello, Mr. Valentino..." His grin seemed to widen as you addressed him, watching you as you quickly follow Velvette's instructions.

While you maneuvered flawlessly to their commands, the whole thing just seemed to be missing something. You waited patiently as the two huddled around the camera man, peering at the images displayed. Sure you looked good, hell, you looked HOT. But for the marketing headline of their newest product, the photos just seemed to be...lacking. You make eye contact with Valentino as he lights a cigarette, smirking at you. "Be a doll and lay on your stomach for me," Velvette suddenly says, crossing her arms. You obey and slide yourself onto the floor, laying completely flat with your head turned in their direction. "Actually," she starts, looking between you and the camera picture. "Get on all fours," she then comes over and pushes your upper half unto the ground. "Arch your back a liiittle more...Yes! Don't you dare move."

You can't help the warming of your cheeks or the slight throbbing between your legs when you think about how you probably look to everyone else in the room right now. You try your best to keep a straight face and not give way to your growing arousal. Focus on the camera. Focus...focus....You jump as the door suddenly swings open and unfortunately also at the same time the camera shutter goes off. Velvette again looks at the images from the camera, only this time they come out blurry. "Fuckin' hell!" Velvette yells angrily at the intruder, throwing her hands up in the air. "Vox this better be important enough to come in here and fuck up our shoot!" Valentino squints as he also checks out the images. Smacking his teeth he mumbles, "Te moviste.."

Vox waves off Velvette's outburst and motions to Valentino, handing him some documents to sign. Vox briefly glances up at you with an unreadable expression and you look away, too embarrassed by your current position. He looks back down at the papers as Valentino quickly fills them out, then he asks "How's the collab going anyway?" Velvette directs someone to quickly touch up your make up and mutters under her breath, something about a piss baby... Valentino gives the documents one last once over and hands them back to Vox, lighting another cigarette. "Let's see your opinion here..." He motions to the camera and allows Vox to leans in close to take a look at the images. Vox doesn't say anything for a moment, flipping through the suggestive pictures with a slight blush dusting on his screen. He clears his throat before answering, "yeah uh, I guess they're fine? I mean.." he pauses. "Thinking from a marketing stand point, the product looks good, and I mean really good...But it just seems like any other lingerie line." Vox looks in your direction yet again, also making the other two glance over at you in thought. Valentino then grins before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small remote. "Mm, I was thinking the same thing, so I brought a little help~ ," He purrs. "Make sure you don't miss ANYTHING." He snaps to the camera man before pressing a button on the remote.

One second you're quietly watching the interaction between The Vees, the next you feel a sudden vibrating sensation between your legs. You gasp embarrassingly loud and unconsciously arch your back, pushing your ass further into the air. You hear Velvette hum contently and Valentino praising your effort, "eso es todo baby~" You whimper and grip the carpet underneath your palms, trying your best to continue looking into the camera. Your legs automatically squeeze together, pressing the vibrations closer to your core. Once enough pictures were taken in this new position, Velvette tells you to lay on your back, which takes embarrassingly longer than usual to get into position. You bite your lip with tears in your eyes, as you settle on your back with your knees drew up. Your hips jump as the vibrations increase, making you cry out. Instinctively you reach your hand between your legs and grind against it as you pathetically whimper out a plea, "Please!" Valentino watches intently, cooing encouragement at you on the side, while Velvette keeps a close eye on the camera. Vox, just stands in the background admiring you intently as you start to fall apart. He also looks at the camera, mumbling softly, "Now that's good for marketing..."

At this point you're openly humping your hand, bringing yourself closer to the edge. You're trembling as your orgasm rapidly approaches, only the soft sounds of your noises can be heard. Making eye contact with Valentino is what finally pushes you over the edge as you see him gently squeeze the visible budge between his legs. Your back fully arches off the ground and you whimper as the orgasm rocks throughout your body. You lay there dazed for a moment as you hear Velvette yelling "Wrap it up!" in the background. Vox and Valentino quietly exchange words before Vox takes his leave back to his office. Valentino on the other hand approaches you, crouching down to your level. "Well done hermosa~ " He slyly glances over to Velvette who is directing the clean up crew.

"How would you like to come work for me instead?" He asks grinning and gently stoking the side of your face, "I could make you Star~"

---

( >_>) I wrote this instead of going to bed...it is now 4 hours past my bed time...ALSO! Guess who learned how to add the "keep reading" line thingy today???~