#now Legend gets to feel that same fear ;)

[theonottsbxtch]

BABY, BABY | MV1

an: max verstappen you are a four time world champion!!! here's a little fic to celebrate that. i started writing it while watching the race, then had to mourn the loss of the battle then went back to writing it and my back hurts because my posture is shit. anyway enjoy!!

wc: 3.3k

Max Verstappen lived for speed. The roar of the engine, the blur of the track, the thunderous applause of the crowd—this was his kingdom. At twenty-seven, he was already a legend, a three-time Formula One World Champion whose name was etched into the annals of the sport. And this season? It was shaping up to be another triumph. Four wins in the first five races, podium finishes for all of them, and whispers in the paddock that he was untouchable.

He had every reason to be confident. The car was a beast—precision-engineered, relentless in its power. His team was operating like clockwork, every pit stop a perfectly executed ballet. But above all, she was there. His fiancée. She didn’t need to speak to make her presence known; her calm, unwavering gaze from the paddock was like a talisman. He could feel her watching, believing in him, and it drove him forward.

After his most recent victory in Japan, he leaned against the garage wall, sweat still beading on his forehead. She approached him, her smile soft and private, meant just for him. The cameras flashed around them, capturing their moment, but he hardly noticed.

“You’re unstoppable,” she murmured, low enough that only he could hear.

“For you? Always,” he replied, brushing a gloved hand over her cheek before he was whisked away to interviews.

Everything was perfect. The season was his to lose, and he had no intention of letting that happen.

Six races later, the Max Verstappen that stood on the grid in Barcelona was not the same man who had claimed victory in Japan. His car was still strong, and his team still flawless. But the man behind the wheel was... distracted.

The cracks had started to show at the Monaco Grand Prix. A clumsy lock-up during qualifying left him sixth on the grid. In Hungary, he was slow off the line and struggled to match the pace of the leaders, finishing fifth.

The press was quick to pounce.

“What’s happening to Verstappen?” the headlines screamed.

Max shrugged it off, his trademark confidence still on display. “It’s the car,” he said with a wry smile after Hungary. “We’re making adjustments. It’ll come good.”

It was a convenient excuse, one his team begrudgingly accepted because of who he was. But the truth was far more complex—and far more personal.

She wasn’t here.

She hadn’t been at the last couple of races. At first, she’d said she wasn’t feeling well, and Max had brushed it off. But then the phone call came.

“I’m pregnant,” she’d whispered, her voice trembling. “I—I want to tell you in person, but I don’t think I can travel.”

In that moment, his world shifted. Joy, fear, and an overwhelming need to protect her collided in his chest. The image of her radiant on their wedding day-to-be now came with another—her cradling a newborn, their newborn. And with that came a thousand anxieties he’d never anticipated.

At every moment since, his thoughts weren’t on the track but on her. Was she eating enough? Was she getting rest? What if something went wrong, and he wasn’t there?

But no one knew. Not his team, not the press, not even his closest rivals. To them, Max Verstappen was still the king of the circuit. He could never let them see otherwise.

It was lap 32 of the Hungarian Grand Prix, and Max was battling for third with Charles. The two cars screamed through the corners, inches apart, but Max hesitated. He felt it—his grip loosened, his focus wavered. For the first time in his career, he wasn’t sure he could make the move stick.

Charles darted ahead, and Max watched as the gap widened. His engineer’s voice crackled in his ear.

“Max, you’re losing time in Sector 2. What’s going on?”

“Just the car,” he lied, jaw tight. “It’s sluggish through the corners.”

He crossed the finish line in fourth. As he stepped out of the car, he pulled off his helmet, running a hand through sweat-soaked hair. The cameras were on him, the journalists waiting. But all he could think about was her.

He needed to call. To hear her voice. To know she was okay.

The season was far from over, but the battle raging within Max was one he’d never prepared for. And as he watched his championship hopes start to slip through his fingers, he knew one thing for certain: no race, no trophy, no accolade mattered more than the life he was about to build off the track.

The Belgian Grand Prix was a race Max Verstappen wanted to forget. He’d spent the entire weekend battling the car—or so he told anyone who asked. But deep down, he knew the problem wasn’t mechanical. The fault lay within himself, his mind a chaotic swirl of worry and love that refused to quiet, no matter how fast he drove.

When he was finally allowed to go back to the hotel, the first thing he wanted to do was go home. Not the sprawling apartment in Monaco that everyone assumed was his sanctuary, but the smaller, quieter house tucked away in the English countryside. The place where she was.

It was just after midnight when his car pulled into the gravel driveway. The house was dark except for the soft glow of a single lamp in the living room window. She always left it on for him. He slipped inside quietly, leaving his suitcase in the car.

She was asleep, of course. Seven months pregnant and glowing with a beauty that stole his breath even in her most unguarded moments. He found her curled on her side in their bed, one hand resting protectively over her rounded belly. Max dropped his coat on the chair and toed off his shoes before slipping into the bed beside her.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, careful not to wake her, and then rested his head gently against her belly. The warmth of her skin, the faint, rhythmic thrum of her breathing, and the thought of the tiny life growing inside her—it was everything he needed to feel whole again.

“Hi, little one,” he whispered, his voice soft and filled with wonder. “It’s me. I’m finally home.”

As if in response, there was a small kick against his cheek. Max grinned, a tear slipping down his face as he chuckled quietly.

“Already a fighter,” he murmured. “Just like your mum.”

Her hand came to rest in his hair, threading through the blonde strands. He startled slightly, realising she was awake, her sleepy smile illuminated by the faint moonlight streaming through the window.

“You’re back,” she said, her voice thick with drowsiness.

“Always,” he replied, turning his head to kiss her palm. “How are you feeling? How’s our little champion?”

“Both fine,” she reassured him. “We missed you.”

“I missed you more,” he said, shifting up to lie beside her, wrapping an arm protectively around her waist. His hand settled over hers on her belly, and they stayed like that for a long moment, the world outside forgotten.

The days that followed were a gift—a rare stretch of time without races, press obligations, or the relentless demands of the championship fight. They spent their mornings in the garden, her feet propped up on his lap while he read aloud from the parenting books she’d stacked on the table. Afternoons were lazy, filled with naps, quiet conversations, and the occasional moment when he leaned down to kiss her belly and whisper to their unborn child.

One evening, as they sat together on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder, she turned to him with a thoughtful look.

“You should tell them,” she said softly.

“Tell who what?” he asked, though he already knew.

“Your team. The press. Everyone.” She tilted her head, watching him carefully. “You’ve been carrying this alone for too long. They’ll understand.”

Max sighed, leaning back against the cushions and closing his eyes. “I like it like this,” he said after a moment. “It’s ours. Just ours. I don’t want them to turn this into... headlines or speculation. I want to keep it safe.”

She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. “You’re not just keeping it safe, love. You’re keeping it locked away. And it’s hurting you.”

He kissed her forehead, a slow, lingering gesture that spoke more than words could. “It’s not hurting me. It’s the only thing keeping me sane. When I’m out there, and it’s all chaos and noise, this is what I hold onto. You. Our little one. It’s my anchor.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned into him, her hand resting lightly on his chest. “You know I’ll support you, whatever you decide. But you don’t have to carry this alone.”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair. “But for now, I want it to stay ours. Just a little longer.”

The break passed too quickly, as it always did, but for Max, it was enough. The air in Austin was electric. Max, back from the summer break and seemingly rejuvenated, had shown flashes of his old brilliance in the first half of the race. But a controversial move during a heated battle for second had earned him a twenty-second penalty. The disappointment was palpable.

In the press conference afterward, he faced a barrage of questions, his jaw tight as he fielded them with his usual composure. But his heart wasn’t in it. He hadn’t seen her in weeks, and the gnawing ache of being apart was beginning to wear on him.

The penalty stung less than the silence in his hotel room later that night. The upcoming triple-header—Austin, Mexico City, São Paulo—meant there’d be no chance to go home. Three weeks without her, without hearing the steady rhythm of her breathing as she slept beside him or feeling the flutter of their baby’s kicks beneath his hand. He stared at his phone for hours, tempted to call, but stopped himself. She needed rest. He could wait.

The race in São Paulo had just wrapped up. Max won, a result he should’ve been thrilled with, but all he could think about was getting back to England. The charter flight to London felt endless, the hours dragging as he stared out the window, replaying every voicemail she’d left him over the past week. Each one sounded more tired, more distant, and it made his chest tighten with unease.

When he finally arrived home, the house was eerily quiet. He dropped his bags in the hallway, calling out her name. No answer. He checked the bedroom, the nursery—they were empty. Panic began to rise as he pulled out his phone and dialled her number.

She picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft but carried an edge of exhaustion.

“Where are you?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry. “I’m home, and you’re not here.”

“I’m at my mum’s,” she replied.

“Why?” His voice dropped, laced with confusion. “What’s going on?”

There was a pause, a beat of silence that stretched too long. And then, she said it.

“I had the baby.”

The words hit him like a jolt. He froze, his breath catching in his throat. “You what?” he whispered, as though saying it louder would make it less real.

“I had the baby,” she repeated, her tone gentle, but firm. “Two weeks ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice a mix of hurt and disbelief.

“You had a job to do, Max,” she said softly. “I didn’t want to distract you.”

“Distract me?” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the kitchen. “You’re my family. How could you think I wouldn’t drop everything to be there?”

“I know,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “But I also know you. You’ve been carrying so much this season, and I didn’t want to add to it. You were halfway across the world, love. There was nothing you could’ve done.”

He wanted to argue, to tell her that she was wrong, that he would’ve found a way. But deep down, he understood. She was protecting him in her own way, just as he always tried to protect her.

“Is he... okay?” he asked finally, his voice softening.

“He’s perfect,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “Healthy and beautiful. I wanted to surprise you when you got home, but we needed a bit of extra help, so I came here.”

“I’m coming now,” he said immediately. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

The drive to her mother’s house felt like an eternity. When he finally pulled into the driveway, he barely remembered turning off the car before he was at the front door. Her mother greeted him with a warm smile and a quiet, “She’s upstairs.”

He took the steps two at a time, his heart pounding in his chest. When he reached the bedroom, he paused in the doorway.

She was sitting on the bed, her hair tied back loosely, her face glowing with a tired kind of happiness. And in her arms, wrapped in a soft blue blanket, was their son.

Max stepped inside slowly, his breath catching as he took in the sight. “Hi,” he said softly, his voice almost trembling.

“Hi,” she replied, smiling up at him. “Come meet him.”

He crossed the room, sitting beside her on the bed. She shifted the baby gently, placing him into Max’s waiting arms. For a moment, he could only stare.

Tiny fingers peeked out from the blanket, curling slightly as the baby let out a soft sigh. His nose, his chin—so small, so perfect.

“What’s his name?” Max asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“We agreed on Emilian,” she said, her eyes shining. “Emilian Lucian Verstappen.”

He looked up at her, his throat tight with emotion. “You gave him my name?”

“Of course,” she said, reaching out to touch his cheek. “You’re his dad. And he’s going to know how much you love him, even when you’re halfway across the world.”

Max pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “Both of you. More than anything.”

As Emilian stirred slightly in his arms, Max smiled. He’d missed the moment of his son’s birth, something he’d carry with him always. But here, holding his son for the first time, he knew he was exactly where he needed to be.

For two precious weeks, Max stayed home. It was just him, her, and Emilian. Those days blurred into a haze of quiet moments—feeding, changing, and rocking his son to sleep. He wasn’t just a racing legend at home; he was a father, learning the delicate art of swaddling and singing lullabies off-key at three in the morning.

His fiancée was radiant, even in her moments of exhaustion. Max found himself watching her more than ever, in awe of her strength. At night, they talked in whispers, Emilian nestled between them in a bassinet. For once, the championship felt like a distant dream.

But as the days passed, reality crept back in. The Las Vegas Grand Prix was the next race and the stakes couldn’t be higher. His rival, Lando Norris, was trailing him by just a decent amount of points, but if Max bottled it, it wouldn’t go well for his title. A strong finish could secure Max his fourth championship, but it would be a fight to the very last lap.

The night before his flight to Vegas, Max sat beside her on the couch, Emilian cradled in his arms. He had spent the entire day rehearsing his pitch, trying to strike the perfect balance of persuasion and sensitivity.

“You know,” he began, his tone casual, “Vegas is going to be a big deal. Probably the biggest race of my career.”

She glanced up from her tea, raising an eyebrow. “I thought every race was the biggest of your career.”

“This is different,” he said, grinning. “If I beat Lando by a certain amount of points, I get the title. My fourth title.”

Her smile softened. “I know. And you will. You always find a way.”

He hesitated, bouncing Emilian gently as the baby dozed. “Come with me,” he said suddenly.

Her eyes widened. “Max—”

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” he cut in quickly, “and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could handle it. But the doctors said you’re fit to fly, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Please,” he said, his voice earnest. “I need you there. Both of you. It’s an important race. The biggest one maybe. And I want to share it with my family.”

She hesitated, biting her lip. He could see the worry in her eyes, the motherly instinct to keep their baby safe and away from the chaos of the paddock. But then he reached for her hand.

“Win or lose, none of it matters without you. You and Emilian are everything to me. And if I do win... I want you there to celebrate. I want the world to see what really matters.”

After a long pause, she sighed, her resolve softening. “Fine. But only if you promise to keep us far away from the press circus until it’s over.”

He grinned, leaning over to kiss her. “Deal.”

The Las Vegas Grand Prix was a spectacle like no other. The bright lights, the roaring crowd, and the tension in the paddock made it a night to remember. Max felt his nerves hum as he stepped into the garage, but knowing she and Emilian were somewhere safe in the hospitality suite calmed him.

The race was brutal. Max fought tooth and nail, battling it out with Charles and Lewis in a chaotic, tire-shredding 50 laps. In the end, he crossed the line in fifth place.

For a moment, he thought it wasn’t enough. But then Christian’s voice crackled over the radio.

“Max Verstappen, you are a four-time world champion!”

Relief and joy flooded through him, and he punched the air, his voice shaking with emotion as he shouted his thanks into the radio. The garage erupted in cheers, but Max’s mind was already on her and Emilian.

As the celebrations began, he climbed out of the car, waving to the crowd before pulling off his helmet. He turned toward the pit lane and froze.

There she was, standing at the edge of the barriers, Emilian in her arms. They were both wearing ear defenders, her smile wide and proud. Emilian’s tiny shirt caught his eye, and his heart melted:

My daddy is a 4-time world champion.

He laughed, running over to them as the cameras swarmed. When he reached her, he didn’t hesitate, pulling her into a deep kiss. The crowd roared, and the cameras clicked furiously, but he didn’t care.

He looked down at his son, who blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes. Carefully, Max took him into his arms, holding him close.

“Hey, little man,” he said softly, his voice trembling with emotion. “Your daddy did it.”

Emilian gurgled in response, and Max’s grin widened.

For the first time, the world saw Max Verstappen not just as a champion, but as a father. The images of him holding his son, his fiancée beside him, spread like wildfire. The press clamoured for details, but Max ignored them, too lost in the moment to care.

“This is your victory too,” he said to her, his voice quiet. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her smile radiant. “We’re so proud of you.”

As the champagne sprayed and the cheers echoed around them, Max knew this was the pinnacle of his career—not the trophy, not the title, but the family he held in his arms.

the end.

[ce1estiall]

already over

summary paige x teammate!reader you got drafted to the dallas wings in the 2026 wnba draft. you and paige got off the wrong foot the year before. now it was time to face her. masterlist.

warnings mentions of suicide, mental health, cheating, fighting, angst, slight fluff at the end (happy ending ;))

celestial notes based off of this request. the long awaited fic, i stayed up late for this. enjoy!

"i know in the end it wont be us, it can never be the same as before.

already over, i erased you, then that day." already - gidle

you felt like you were in a dream, waiting for someone to pinch you. the moment you have been dreaming for, since you were a kid. that orange carpet that made its way to new york for the 2026 wnba draft.

you had one word for what you wanted to wear: cunt. your stylist, claire, blinged you out in a semi-oversized rhinestoned grey blazer with bronze buttons and a matching grey jumper with very thin white stripes, also a handmade belt of the same material. she paired you with silver channel logo earrings and knee high black boots. you hair was curled, but eventually became wavy due to them falling out. you had very natural makeup, barely blush. you had a hint of sparkle eyeshadow on your eyes, that would shine in photos. eyeliner so sharp it could've cut someone, and a peachy pink lipgloss.

photographers were in awe when they saw you walk down the orange carper, all calling out your name to take pictures of you in every single angle imaginable. you walked down with two feelings. confidence on how you looked and anxiety for when your name would be called.

as you entered the arena, you sat down next to your parents. gold-and white basketball engraved with your name. "CONNECTICUT" under it.

not only were you at the draft, but so was your teammate azzi. your teammates came out to support both of you and cheer you on.

you've seen azzi go through so much, but the media was putting you as rivals as who was going to be the #1 pick. mock drafts were changing, switching between you and azzi. but no matter the outcome, you would both be proud of each other.

you've seen azzi go through so much. knee injuries, physical therapy, azzi was the one who really deserved it all. she was also a wonderful teammate and friend to you, always offering to pay for your things or go clubbing together on days you had off.

the draft was about to start any moment now. you were hearing the espn commentators talk about how dallas was on the clock for their pick and you and azzi’s journey to get here. you felt a mix of emotions all forming in your gut. excitement, nervousness, fear, freedom. your future was in the hands of any wnba team. you didn’t care where you got drafted to, you would just be happy to hear your name called.

cathy engelbert entered the stage, signaling dallas had made their decision.

“with the first pick in the 2026 wnba draft, the dallas wings select (y/n), university of connecticut.”

you smile grew as big as the arena. you could almost cry. you got up and hugged your mom, then your dad, then coach auriemma. “i’m so proud of you kid. you deserve this.” he whispered to your ear. you wiped a tear from your face, hoping to not ruin your makeup so early.

you walked up the steps to the stage. the same steps you watch wnba legends walk on. you shook cathy’s hand, as she handed you the wings jersey with #1 on the back. you smiled for the camera. a true, natural smile.

you walked back down to the steps as holly rowe greeted you, wanting to interview you.

“congratulations for going as the #1 pick tonight. i'm sure the fans have seen you work so hard. what are you feeling in this moment?” she asked.

“i’m feeling a lot of everything.” you started to choke up. “i’m trying to not ruin my makeup.” you said with laughter as you wiped a tear away. “but in all seriousness i’m so thankful for the opportunity i got at uconn. it was a once in a lifetime experience for me and i wouldn’t trade it for the world.” you turned around to your table, facing your family. “i just really want to thank my parents for all the sacrifices they’ve made for me to be here in this moment. my coaches, my teammates, the best teammates i could ever ask for.” the audience clapped as they heard your response.

holly continued. “we know that you’ve been going through a lot mentally during your basketball career. how does it feel like that you’ve overcame any challenges you’ve had?”

you smiled, knowing that this would be asked. “uhh it feels pretty rewarding. there was a point in my life where i wanted to quit, not just the sport i loved, but my life as well. i was in a really dark place and i thought i would never get out of it. i questioned my capabilities and my ability in life. i trusted god however and he’s helped me a lot. but credits to my support system who helped me push through and thank god that i’m standing here right now. all glory to him.”

“thank you so much. congratulations again.”

“thank you for your time.” you walked and sat down to your parents again. your worry of not getting called was at ease. you felt accomplished. all you blood, sweat, and tears had paid off. now, it was azzi’s time to shine.

cathy came out again. “with the second pick in the 2026 wnba draft, the los angeles sparks select azzi fudd, university of connecticut.”

you jumped up immediately, cheering her. your uconn teammates all screamed and recorded their moment as if it was a concert. azzi was in a white dress with her hair down, curled. she looked absolutely stunning. jaw-dropping even. thank god she chose basketball, because the modeling industry was not ready for her. azzi then spoke to holly about her feelings. you were smiling, maybe even crying a bit. the camera then panned to a familiar blonde, holding a phone with a smile lit across her face.

your face dropped. “fuck me.” you whispered under your breath, as you turned around to find her. it was her. it was paige. it was so obvious she came to support azzi. she could give two shits about you.

you and paige dated for two and a half years during college, when you were a freshman, sophomore, and junior since she was a grade older than you.

it was just a normal day in december. waking up to paige’s stupid singing in the bathroom as she brushed her teeth, eating breakfast before your 10am class, practice later that day, the normal.

you walked to your class, as the cold wind brushed your face, leaving your nose cold. you wore clothes that would keep you warm throughout the day such as a white scarf with a matching beanie and a warm winter coat.

after class, you got ready for practice. getting taped, laced up, and arriving early for some shooting.

practice was the same like always. running till you felt like oxygen wasn’t in your body anymore, defensive slides and drills, offensive plays, and scrimmaging, and slight flirting back and forth with paige. she loved to annoy you during water breaks. however, you were thankful enough to have an amazing bond with your teammates, which is what makes you look forward to in practice.

after practice you returned to your dorm and showered. you didn’t like to feel the sweat after practice. you took an everything shower—shaving, exfoliating, double cleansing. it made you feel refreshed.

you left you hair down to air dry, when you heard knocking on your door so late. puzzled, but you opened the door.

when the door opened, paige stomped in, furious. you can tell she was mad. and when she’s mad, it’s not very pretty.

“you okay?” you asked her looking confused. both of you standing in the kitchen as you put dishes away. emotions were thick, both of you feeling them in the air.

paige started speaking. "are you fucking kidding me?" she said as she shoved you. she was furious, practically seeing the smoke exit her ears, slowly turning red.

"what the fuck are you talking about?" you slowly walked back to the place before. she stood up to you, getting in your face. you could feel her breath as she was breathing angerly.

"sleeping with some fucking guy from the men's basketball team? what the fuck? after all the shit i did for you and you're fucking cheating on me? you're fucking pathetic!"

"paige, wha-" is all you could say before she interrupted you.

"i don't wanna hear your bullshit and pathetic excuses. you and me? it's over. you didn't think twice about us when you got in bed with that fucker. don't fucking call me, text me, look at me, or even breathe near me." you saw her face. it was a heartbroken girl who cared so much just to be stabbed in the back.

she walked out in a blink of an eye before you could say anything to her. she slammed the door, walls slowly shaking from the aftershock.

where did this rumor come from? the girl you've loved since 20 years old, dropped you from a rumor that wasn't true. you couldn't even explained your side of the story--which you didn't have one because this was all a bullshit lie. tears of anger flowed down your cheeks, a drop towards your lips which allowed you to get a taste of salt, which was how you were feeling.

someone wanted to sabotage you and paige's relationship. you didn't care who, but why. you went to the couch, and immediately cried. you were expressing so much emotion that you though you were gonna become from how much cried. the last thing you remembered was sobbing, then laying down on the couch.

you woke up the next day, heading to practice since it was the weekend. when you entered the locker room, you saw paige in the corner of your eye. she saw you. she left immediately and rolled her eyes. you ignored her and you did your routine--lacing up, getting tapped, and arrived early.

practice was about to start in 10 minutes, then you saw azzi walking in, looking confused. "hey girl! how are you?" she asked, excited to see you. you took a deep sigh. "i could be better."

she sat down on the bench of her locker. "is it about paige?" you nodded, as she immediately knew what was going on.

the evening she confronted you, she told the team about what was going on between you two. she knew it wasn't any of their business, but she wanted them to become your enemy. when azzi heard paige's part of the story, she knew you too well. she knew you wouldn't do something like that, especially with a guy, and even me with the girl you loved and always talked to people about.

azzi continued, watching your face and body emotion change. "she told us what happened last night, but i know you wouldn't do shit like that. so i wanna hear your side of what happened."

you took a breath. "last night, paige went to my room, screaming and yelling at me. she was accusing me of cheating on her with a guy from the basketball team. i would not do that. i'm so in love with paige, i wouldn't be with anyone else in my life but her. i have no evidence of talking to this guy on the phone or in real life. you can go through my phone too. shit, i don't even know him!" the water works were starting to form, slowly causing your eyes to become red. "i didn't even get a chance to speak to her. she just said her shit, saying to not call or text or look at her, slammed the door, and left."

azzi patted your back as comfort. "do you want me to sit down the team your side of the story. everyone except paige?" you nodded, cleaning the tears off your face with your hands. you knew paige wouldn't budge, so you and azzi decided to give her time to cool off.

----

post-draft, you had photoshoots the rest of the evening for magazines, social media, and partnerships promoting you in your dallas jersey and how you were also a #1 pick. your grey outfit shimmered from the flashes of the cameras. you were used to the attention being on you in the media, so it didn't bother you when you had 40 flashes going on at one time just for a single photo. coach chris called you, saying how they were so excited to see you in dallas and see how your hard work has paid off. dallas was excited to see your talent, as home-opener tickets sold out within an hour after seeing you being drafted. before you and azzi left for dallas and la, you took a group photo with your team, as they all received dallas wings and la sparks hats to support you and azzi. you hugged them all goodbye "i love you all and will miss you. get a natty for me. ill visit in the offseason." as you broke down. you held azzi a little longer. "good luck in la, az. can't wait to beat your ass." you both cracked up in laughter as streams of tears were all over your face. paige went to hug azzi, and you knew that was your queue to leave.

you headed back to your hotel room, feeling happy and exhausted from this evening. you had to pack all your items and buy flight and hotel tickets to dallas, as you had to be a training camp right away. the shower and bedroom never looked so nice before. you took a shower to remove the leftover makeup from your face and sweat from excitement that evening, tucked yourself into bed while falling asleep to love island playing in the background.

you woke up bright and early at 2 am, as your flight was at 6am. you woke up, and washed your face, feeling the ice cold water on your skin. you packed any other items you may have missed the previous evening, such as toiletries and your outfit from the previous night before. and now, you were off your way to start history, to finally achieve your dream.

you arrived at the chilly airport. since it was still very early, there wasn't as much security and bag checking as you thought, and thankfully you weren't chosen for a tsa check, so you had 2 hours to kill.

you decided to head over to peet's coffee - your favorite cafe. you got an iced vanilla latte with a cheese danish, which was one of your comfort foods. you deserved it, especially after last night. which you were sitting down, eating your "meal", all you could think about was paige. it was like she was haunting you. you thought about how you would have to face her again, now that you were both professional athletes on the same team. you had hope that she would put the pettiness aside and act professional with you. unfortunately that was not the case.

the flight to dallas was amazing. you loved planes and flights. it always gave you a boost of serotonin. you watched the sunset as all the colors blended together. reds, oranges, yellows, pinks and purple, all eventually met each other to become a beautiful view. that is that hope you had with your future teammates. you were now a little fish in a big pond. you took a long awaited nap the rest of your flight, as jetlag was slowly starting to catch up.

you landed and headed straight to the hotel to unpack everything, get ready for training camp, then head to training camp. all in less than an hour. the pressure and anxiety was clearly on you, you were trying to not have a panic attack from now until arriving the practice facility. at one point, you said "fuck it." and left you clothes in a mess all over the bed. you were starting to run late, and that was not a good first impression on you're part. you brought a practice shirt, shorts, and basketball shoes from storrs. you ubered your way to the facility, in awe on how huge and fancy it was in person.

the moment you approached the doors, you took a deep breath. everything is going to be okay you told yourself. you opened the doors, as a new chapter in your life was about to be written. you headed to the gym, eyeing coach chris. he gave you a big, warm and welcoming hug. you felt the excitement transport between you and him. "we are so excited to have you as a part of our program. the rest of the team is in the locker room. we're about to start training camp in about 30 minutes, so you can go introduce yourself and get to know everyone. let me know if you need anything." you gave a soft smile. "got it. thanks once again coach." he sent you off with a wave.

you walked shyly into the locker room as if it were you first day of kindergarden. dijonai smiled and jumped when she saw you walk in. she ran up to you, giving you a hug. "hi rookie!! we are so excited to have you with us! we know you're gonna fit right in here in dallas." you then saw arike, finding her socks. "oh hey! happy to see you. you're gonna enjoy dallas, i already know it." you smiled from all the attention being on you. "thanks guys for the warm welcome! this definitely put me at ease." you saw the rest of the team, sending you waves and smiles. "well for those of you that don't know me, even though i'm pretty sure you do. my name is y/n and i played at uconn. i'm really excited to start my wnba journey here in dallas not just the coaches, but you guys and the fans."

jj started cheering for you, you gave a bright smile in return to show thanks. then you saw paige, giving you a death glare as she sat under her locker. you rolled her off your back. you were not gonna let her ruin your day - or even this new beginning for you. you just let her roll of your back. you headed out of the locker room and went to the gym after you changed into your dallas wings practice gear. the green and blue wasn't necessarily your favorite, but it was starting to grow on you.

then it was now one of the bumps in the road, training camp. even though there was a high possibility of you making the roster, you still wanted to work your ass off to show that you deserve it. it started off with running drills. you ran like there was no tomorrow, you had so much fuel in your tank. there were suicides, 17s, up and backs, the normal when it comes to basketball. you noticed paige as she was trying to take this as a race. you could see her ego boosting on her face if she made it first before you. nalyssa slowly started noticing, but didn't really take much note. you ignored paige, you had more important things to worry about in your life. it moved on to defensive drills. that was where you really started setting the tone for yourself. you loved defense - because that was your specialty as a player. press, blocks and steals always gave you dopamine, because it was exciting. you felt like an absolute beast. the team was very impressed by your defense, as you read the offender, not falling most of the time for the tricks they were attempting to try on you.

shooting drills were next on the list. were you good at them? sorta. can you put points on the boards however? absolutely. midrange was your cup of tea. occasionally hitting a 3 once in a while. however, this is now the w. they want to make you uncomfortable, set you outside your comfort zone. your stats for this set wasn't the best. 3 makes out of 10 attempts. you could do better. paige was making shots like crazy. 9 makes out of 10 attempts. you didn't want to get in your head at such an early stage in camp, so once again you calmed yourself down and ignore it. the second set had improvement for you. 6 makes out of 10, but something inside of you still was not satisfied. you wanted to make all 10. paige, showing off, made all 10. she shoulder checked you, and thats when it started, the determination to make all 10. but when you were good, paige wanted to be great. when you were great, paige wanted to be better. she always wanted to be one step ahead of you. third and final set, you pushed through. making sure your shots were clean, and not rushed. making sure your form was correct and your jumping was as high as you could be. when you heard all 10 swishes, you were finally satisfied. paige noticed you as she waited in line, rolling her eyes and pretending not to care. coach called a water break.

you went to the lobby to grab a sip of water. maddy was behind you, waiting for you to finish. she looked curious. "hey! you doing all right today?" she caught you off guard, almost choking on your water. "hey maddy! yes i'm good, thanks for asking." she looked outside the lobby, like she was anticipating someone. "i noticed paige is just, i don't know, off. it's like she has something against you, don't you think?"

you shrugged your arms. "it's a long story for another day, maddy. i'm just gonna let her have her moment and let it roll off my back, because i really do not need this this week." she started to head back to the gym, "we'll if you need anything i'm here." she left with a smile.

a scrimmage than happened, then the first day of camp had ended, giving you some relief. your tank was finally empty from today, and you couldn't wait to rest and recharge at home for tomorrow.

---

training camp was what seemed like an endless cycle. it felt like the same drills everyday, with minimal switch ups. paige was still in this competition with you, which started to get on your nerves. she would whisper things under her breath. occasionally, you heard what she was saying, like "unworthly" or "overrated". you were not falling for her childish games. the team started to notice more, whispering to each other about what was being observed between you and paige. dijonai was the one who was paying attention to you both the most out of everyone on the team.

training camp day 4 had wrapped up after your team formed a circle to call it the end of the day. you sat down and slid on a wall while chugging from your gaterade water bottle as if it was your last drops on earth. you were minding your business, closing your eyes trying to catch your breath, when you feel a figure suddenly in front of you. you quickly opened your eyes, when you saw paige.

"you can never seem to leave me alone, huh?" you spoke, getting up from the wall. she shrugged. "funny. looks like you need some practice. 1v1?" the light switched. your confidence was now through the roof, because of wanting the satisfactory to watch her lose. "first to 5. i'll shoot for it."

she chuckled. "not like you're gonna ma-" swish. you smiled. "what were you saying?" she ignored you, checking up the ball. you started, feeling the leather all over your hands as you dribbled the ball. you used one of your favorite tricks. crossover, between the legs, behind the back, step back, and shoot. paige tried to block. swish.

2-0. she grabbed the rebound. "so you wanna be like that?"

"i'm not being anything, bueckers. just trying to beat you at your own game." she handed you a bullet pass, purposely aiming for your chest, but you caught it right as it was about to hit you. "since i'm so kind, its losers ball." just as you were about to hand her the ball, you through it over you, not far, but just behind you. that really pissed paige off. "you just an asshole every day or just today?"

she had the ball, jabbed right then dribble left, hitting a pull up floater. you grabbed the rebound, shoulder checking her as you walked to the top of the key, waiting for her to check up. 2-2. "are you just a bitch when i get drafted here or for anyone?" she looked you up and down in anger as she checked up. you shot the 3, but missed. she whispered under her breath, but you managed to hear her. "shot's broken. as expected." she smirked as she ran to get the ball. she went up to the 3 to clear it. "wasn't broken when i did that step back though, huh?" she shot the 3, but you blocked it.

she really started the trash talk after that block. "all bark, but no fucking bite in you. pussy." you gave her a nod as she was underestimating you. you were about to shoot the 3 when she moved out the way. "decided to give you a free lane. accept it while you can. can't fucking making a 3 to save your life." challenge on, bueckers. you looked at her, shooting a no-look 3, smiling from ear to ear when you heard the shot go in. "keep talkin' paige." you stepped up close to her face. "reflecting your insecurities on me because you're fucking pissed i'm here. get fucking used to it, baby. or it ain't gonna look pretty."

dijonai saw from the corner entrance of the locker room. "both of you. locker room, now." her voice was stern, which meant she was not playing around.

you followed paige to the locker room, as you saw the whole team standing in front of you both as you sat down on the bench to your lockers.

arike began. "alright, imma say this shit once and that's it. whatever bullshit y'all have going on between each other needs to be fixed asap because this some bullshit."

dijonai continued. "this is really immature, figure out the battles between both of you. we're gonna head out and leave you two alone and speak your peace. i want this rivalry gone tomorrow morning." both of you nodded as the team headed out.

it was dead silent. none of you wanted to speak first. emotions and tension were thick in the air, you could taste it. you decided to be the bigger person and talk first. "why do you always have to have some sort of competition with me, paige?"

she placed her elbows on her thighs. "because i want to be better than you. i always want to be and always will be."

anger rose throughout your body. "look if you just don't fucking want me here don't be such a pussy and try to sabotage me to leave. be upfront and honest with me."

she got up from her bench. "alright fine, i don't want you here. i was happier without you. i don't like seeing your face here. i want you gone. it will be one less problem for me."

"i'll do you one better paige. give me a good enough fucking reason and i'll be out by tomorrow morning."

silence. paige couldn't think of one. she was still stuck on college, how you hurt and broke her trust. when in reality you did nothing at all. she was brainwashed and fed with lies by someone else to make her hate you. and it worked.

"you look like you wanna kill me half the fuckin' time. like you seeing me happy makes you physically ill." you said, about to surrender and leave with the tone in your voice. "you're not the person i used to know."

she said very unconcerned. "hate to break it to you sweetheart but people change. get used to it."

"see this is why i don't like fucking talking to you! all you do is make shit about yourself paige! have sympathy for once in your goddamn life. or is it just that hard of a concept to grasp for you?" you got up from your bench, slowly approaching her. paige look visibly stunned and offended from what you said. she wasn't upset or sad, she was furious.

"i saw you on draft night paige. i knew you weren't there for me. you could give two fucks about what happens to me. i can fucking die tomorrow god forbid, and you'd show no remorse. no emotion, not one tear shed from your goddamn face. what the actual fuck have i ever done to you to make you act like such a fucking bitch towards me. i've questioned myself day and night for this past week because of how you've been acting towards me. i know you fucking hate me, but that's the only thing i want to know." you were sobbing, crying from the anger that was spilling out of your mouth. paige was angry and numb at the same time. like she wanted to speak, but something was stopping her. finally, she bit the bullet.

"the day i confronted you that you cheated on me. i never saw you the same again. from that day on, you were my enemy. i hated you with every bone in my body that you could do such a thing to me. after everything i've done for you. i was there for you, through it all. i helped you during your injuries, or during the days where you wanted to kill yourself. and that's what you did to me? you stabbed me in the fucking back saying 'i don't want you'. you hurt me deeply, and i wanted you to feel the pain but worse." paige's body now reacted. she stood up and encountered you face to face, while her and eyes turned red from the anger that she was feeling.

"i'm stopping you right there. that day you confronted me, i was gonna say my shit. but you left paige. didn't even give me one fucking chance to explain." you yelled, as your voice increasingly became louder.

paige yelled back. "there was nothing for you to explain."

"can you let me fucking finish?" you gripped your practice jersey, attempting to cool off. "i never, ever, cheated on you paige. someone started that rumor to break us up and it worked. the next day after you confronted me, azzi asked me my side of the story. i didn't even know the fucking guy. paige you could've went through my phone. there was no proof of me ever talking to this guy. plus i'm a lesbian. guys disgust me. why would i cheat on you with a guy?" you took a deep breath. "azzi told me that you told the team what had happened. azzi told the team my side of the story about what happened."

paige intervened. "why didn't azzi tell me? why did she tell everyone except me?"

"because you needed time to cool off and i knew you wouldn't have believed me." you placed your hands on your hips.

paige licked her lips. "i could've understood if you told me what happened." you wanted this conversation to end.

"well i now feel like a dumbass for not telling you earlier paige." you sat back down, legs shaking from anxiety about the venting you just did.

paige sat back down also and turned to look at you. "so if you apparently 'cheated on me' but you in reality didn't, who started that rumor."

you spoke more calmly now. "i don't know. but it was an attempt to break us up. and it worked." you started picking at your nails from anxiety. paige got up and sat next to you. she was the next one about to cry.

"now that you told me this, i'm so sorry for how i treated you. and i know from how i acted earlier that a simple apology is not changing my behavior. when we broke up, i won't lie, i still loved you. i was going insane from not seeing you so often. i've been such a dick towards you, and if i could go back in time to prevent those things to hurt you, i would. i still love you and i care about you so much. i always think about you. on draft night, i mostly went for you. i wanted to see your face again. your smile, your fashion, your dream come true that you told me about." she grabbed your hand and interlocked fingers. "restart our journey with me. a new team, and new beginnings. only if you want to. i understand if you don't." she looked at you, tears escaping her eyelids as she poured her heart out to you. she gripped your hand tighter, making you feel her squeeze. "i've missed you so much paige. more than words can ever imagine."

you both got up from the bench and gave each other a long, warm and meaningful hug that you could've melt into. she placed a kiss on your cheek. "i've missed your touch, your warmth, your scent. i've missed this. all of you."

[theatrevelyan]

Ok, big endgame spoilers for DAV but I need to scream into the void because I don’t think we stopped enough to talk about the fact that Lucanis literally stabbed a God, twice, and even killed her the second time.

He killed her.

Sure, he had help, and someone always dies to give him the shot, but do you understand how fucking big of a deal that is?????

Actions so important and plot relevant as that are usually reserved for the main character/protagonist of a game, especially in an rpg.

And here comes our little assassin, who we recruited to kill gods but who we all know, from a narrative standpoint, has no chance to actually deal the final blow, and he fucking deliveres.

We still get the big boss, sure, but he still got one. He defied narrative preconceptions and finished his contract.

How fucking metal is that?????

And can you imagine, once this is all over, how the other crows must see him? He was already a legend before and now he’s the crow that managed a successful contract on a freaking god.

Can you imagine the awe? The fear? The sheer terror his next target would feel knowing the man who killed a god is after them?

And if Rook is a crow the same goes for them!

The crows are already infamous, could you imagine how their reputation would skyrocket even more knowing that not just one, but possibly two of them managed to kill a god????

One might a fluke, an outlier among them (which Lucanis already is since he’s considered the best they have). But two?! It begins to be a pattern. Sign of skill and competence for the whole guild.

Caterina would love that shit. What better marketing strategy than “if need be, we can kill gods btw” could she get.

And can you imagine if crow Rook and Lucanis are romancing each other??? Who would dare to even think opposing the two assassins that literally killed gods??? Bet the usual crow shenanigans would stay clear of them.

Anyway I’m really normal about Lucanis.

[fanfickittycat]

****************************************************

Gimmie, Gimmie, Gimmie

****************************************************

Synopsis: When you and Sylus come across a pair of Aether core necklaces, dreams and reality start to blend together.

AKA a necklace makes you both star in each other’s wet dreams

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Love and Deepspace

Pairing: Sylus x MC/Sylus x Reader

Read on AO3 | Part One | Part Two | Part Three

“And this one?” You pointed to the emerald cut rock resembling a protocore.

“You have a good eye!” The merchant grinned, as he began spinning lies to you about how rare it was. You knew it was a fake without even touching it, but you held off from correcting him immediately and instead pretended to listen. You could feel a strange sense of excitement bubble in you as you got ready to test the merchant, but a familiar rush of energy behind you put that excitement on pause, and you watched as the shopkeeper’s voice faltered. His face became ashen, as he looked above your head, and you could see the blurry reflection of a dark, imposing figure and red eyes bounce off the larger crystals behind him.

“I thought I told you to stop doing that” you said, not bothering to turn around as you examined the other pieces of jewellery.

“Do what?” His breath is warm against the shell of your ear and you can feel the tickle of his silver hair against you.

“To stop looming over my shoulder like that” you turn slightly only to be met with an amused smile “you’re ruining my investigation.”

“… Investigation?” The merchant choked out but you both ignored him.

“Maybe I wanted to look around too, did that ever occur to you?” Sylus said, straightening up and putting his hands in his pockets casually. He was at least a head taller than you and he never failed to remind you of that.

You scoffed and crossed your arms“as if you’d shop here. There are so many fakes on display it’s probably not even worth it to you.”

“Now, hold on-“ the shopkeeper protested but it fell on deaf ears again.

Sylus shrugged “you can still find a diamond in the rough if you look hard enough.” He stepped from behind you to your side to look at the display case in front of him.

“Although…” his eyes glanced at the artificial gems “this selection is lacking.” His eyes flick up to the merchant whose face is flushed with embarrassment and fear.

“I- I did get something in this morning. Something real.” His hand lowers slowly to the vault behind him, as if asking for permission.

Sylus sighs “well go on then. Let’s see it before Miss Hunter here brings you to justice.” He only chuckles softly when you elbow him in the side.

You both watch as the shopkeeper produces two small vermillion boxes. He opened them up, carefully unwrapping the layers of tissue paper to reveal a matching pair of necklaces, both holding a crimson stone. Your eyes widen as you feel the energy emitting from them.

“Is this…?” Your eyes transfixed “part of an Aether core?”

“My, my, I certainly wasn’t expecting that” Sylus murmured, equally dazzled by the pair of necklaces.

You couldn’t help but let your fingers reach forward to feel the smooth stone on one of the chains. It glowed in response to your touch, and the other mimicked it.

“Legend has it that a pair of lovers separated by the Great War crafted it so that they could always remain close to one another despite being physically apart. It’s rumoured that if your connection is strong enough, you can achieve a psychic connection like none other.”

You can practically hear Sylus raise an eyebrow at that.

“Wait” you frown “I know that myth, it’s from thousands of years ago. Surely this can’t be the same pair of necklaces.”

“What if it is?” Sylus asked, touching one of the stones and watching the other glow “stranger things have happened.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow “I didn’t take you for a fantasist.”

“Even I have capacity for romantic notions” he smiles at you fondly, making your cheeks flush. “How much for it?”

Just as the shopkeeper opens his mouth to answer you interrupt “I think it would be best for everyone if you just handed these over.” You looked squarely at the shopkeeper “I know the Hunter’s Association are looking for you - dead or alive.”

“Well played” Sylus murmured to you, looking at you with admiration whilst the merchant was left with no choice but to agree and pack the necklaces away.

Outside the market you prepared to bid Sylus a goodnight, and thanked him for taking you to the N109 Zone’s night market.

“Oh wait” you fished the Aether core necklace out from its pouch “come here.” He turns and approaches you, smiling when you roll your eyes and gesture for him to come closer.

“A kiss goodbye?” He teases and you try to subtly swallow to remoisten your dry mouth.

“You wish.” You fiddle with the clasp of one of the necklaces and loop it around his neck. The feeling of his cool skin wasn’t entirely foreign to you, but neither was it overly familiar. This was probably the closest your faces had ever been, though you had dreamt about it happening almost every week. The memories of your latest dream played in your mind, making you hastily click the necklace into place and pull away before his eyes could ascertain your desire.

“It suits you” you said, admiring the way the deep red tone sat against his pale flesh.

“Your turn.” And before you could blink he was holding the matching necklace in his hands. He swept the curtain of your hair over one of your shoulders as his fingertips ghosted the back of your neck, making you shiver.

“A ticklish Hunter? Isn’t that a liability?” He asked jokingly, only for you to huff in response. You could almost have sworn that his touch lingered but if you thought about it too much you were sure you would melt.

“There” he cupped his own pendant “now we match.” You gasped feeling the warmth of the gem against the delicate skin of your chest.

“This is purely scientific” you said, experimenting with holding your own Aether shard. The vibrations in your hand akin to a gentle purr.

“Oh, entirely” Sylus agreed “until next time Miss Hunter.”

It was well past midnight when you got home. The toll of the evening weighed on your shoulders, leading you to take a hot shower in an attempt to undo the knots in your back. Your mind wandered as you lathered up your body wash. The N109 Zone Night Market had yielded some promising leads on illegal protocore trade activity. You had some names and faces to run through the Hunters Association system when you went back to work on Monday, and you wanted to cross reference them with your notes from your last mission too.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you jolted when you felt the Aether core pendant react. Sylus? You gently stroked the stone, feeling a comforting warmth emanate from it. Was he thinking of you? Or just touching the stone? He had looked handsome tonight. Way too handsome. Every time you saw him you felt like you were being drawn in closer and closer to him. It felt dangerous. And exciting.

You could blame the heat of the water for the slightly dizziness but the way the warm sensation flooded south was something else entirely different. Your mind flickered through the moments you shared tonight. The way you could feel his tense muscles as you gripped him on the back of his motorcycle; the moment when he tricked you into trying a so called N109 Zone street food staple only for you to take a bite and hate it instantly, the sound of his laughter and the intoxicating way he slyly smiled and attempted to quell your annoyance by buying you a sweet treat instead, the way the moonlight had illuminated him softly…

Without even realising it, your hand had begun to wander toward your hardening nipples, imagining it was his fingers pinching the pebbled peaks. You pictured him kissing the point where your shoulder met your neck and whimpered at the thought. How good would it feel if he was pressed against you? Grinding his erection into your ass whilst he bit down on your shoulder. Would he sprinkle in all those little pet names he’d developed for you?

“Can’t wait to bury myself inside you kitten. Going to fuck you nice and deep like you deserve.”

You felt your breath hitch. Your fingers traversed downwards, running up and down your slit. Your mouth fell open.

RING RING

You frowned.

RING RING RING.

You groaned in frustration, hurrying out of the shower and towards your phone. Surely even Wanderers knew that they should give it a break at this time of night?! Your skin was still warm but you’d broken out in goosebumps from the sudden temperature difference. Your robe was tied way too loosely around you too, exposing your skin to the cool temperature of your room.

“H-hello?” You answered, you hadn’t realised that you were panting until you stood there. You attempt to clear your throat and repeat your greeting. You’re met with silence. You pull the phone away only to see it’s a hidden number.

“Who is this?” you hear the smallest sound, something akin to a breath and then the call ends. What a waste of time! You throw your phone down on your bed in frustration, and close your eyes for a couple of seconds. The call had interrupted your flow and you suddenly wanted nothing more than some instant ramen and your bed.

After changing into your pyjamas and indulging in some late night cup noodles (sorry Dr Zayne!), you settled into your night time routine and sighed in relief as you nuzzled into the latest plushie you’d won at the arcade. Sleep found you almost immediately, and you found yourself slipping into a dream almost instantly.

There had been problem after problem for the past couple of days, and whilst Sylus was happy to delegate tasks down to his underlings, there had been several particularly tricky issues which required his full attention.

‘So bothersome’ he thought, raking a hand through his hair, which no doubt, was a mess from the repeated action. The words had started to blur together a little and he took his glasses off momentarily to shut his eyes. Maybe he needed a break? The fire he had started when he first reached his study crackled in the fireplace, providing a source of warmth that was much needed on such a cold night. He resolved internally to at least work through the contract sitting on the top of the pile of paperwork on his desk before he called it quits, and put on the glasses again to scan through the fine print.

Not ten minutes later he heard a knock on the door.

“Enter.” He had expected it to be the twins, but blinked in surprise when you peeked your head around the door.

“You’re still awake?” Sylus’ expression softened as he set down the pen and leaned back on his dark chair.

“It’s hard to sleep when you’re not next to me. It’s so cold tonight.” You said, running a finger along his desk as you made your way towards him.

“Look” you shrugged off the silky robe he usually donned, letting the soft material pool on the hardwood floors at your feet.

“I have goosebumps.” You offered your bare arm up for him to inspect.

Sylus’ lips twitched, as his eyes hungrily drank in your near naked form. The crimson lingerie set he had seen in Linkon City just the other week had clearly stuck in his head more than he thought. The delicate lace of the bra looked so pretty against your skin; equal parts sensual and feminine. And despite you standing with only a small gap between your legs, he could already spy the silk framing the open crotch detailing of the panties.

“You do look chilly” he remarked, running his hand up your exposed arm before placing the palms of his hands on the back of your stocking clad thighs, urging you closer to him. You obliged, naturally, arching your back when his hands kneaded the flesh of your thighs and ass.

“Are you almost done with work?” You asked, your own hand finding his cheek to caress. His skin was still smooth from having shaved that morning.

Sylus sighs “hmmm not quite yet.” He pinches the top of his nose and closes his eyes for a second, before leaning into your touch.

“You’re tired” you murmur gently.

“I need to finish this.” He reluctantly nudges his glasses up the elegant bridge of his nose.

“You need a break” you chide and slip yourself in the gap between his form and the desk.

“Sweetie-“ but you interrupt him.

“Just ten minutes, Sy. Please?” He could never resist your puppy dog eyes.

“What do you suggest I should do?”

You lean in so that your noses are touching “leave it with me.”

You press your lips against his, silencing any doubt. He relaxed against your touch, letting your tongue languidly stroke his own as you mounted the chair to straddle him. He can already feel your molten core through his jeans as you begin to rock your hips experimentally against his own. It doesn’t take long for him to reciprocate, and you take it as an opportunity to pull your mouth away from his. He groans at the loss of your lips, which you drag to the column of his pale neck. You feels his heartbeat quicken when you ghost your teeth against his neck and playfully nip him.

“Harder” he urges, and you comply, sinking your teeth a little more into his skin to leave a mark. You lick at the same point as an almost apology, gasping quietly when he ramps up his thrusting. You’re soaking the denim of his trousers but he doesn’t care. He’s so focused on how your body quivers and pushes and pulls at his touch that he almost doesn’t notice you unbuckle his belt and slip a hand into his boxers.

Both of your eyes look downwards as you squeeze his length, running your hand up and down his dick.

“Fuck…” Sylus sighs. How long had he waited for this? He watches, hypnotised, as you spit into your hand and massage it into the head, just the way he likes.

“You’ve been working so hard lately” you murmur, continuing to work your hand up and down in a tantalisingly slow manner.

“I think my fiend deserves a treat for all his hard work.” Sylus tips his head back, closing his eyes as he becomes putty in your hands. He half opens them to watch you slip off the chair and onto your knees.

“What’re you doing kitten?” He mumbles, mourning the loss of your heat against his body.

“Shhhh” you reassure him before leaning forward to lick a stripe up his shaft. He groans as you press kisses onto his dick before opening your mouth and taking him inch by inch into your throat. One of his hands clutches your hair into a rough ponytail, whilst the other hovers at your jaw as he guides you to take more and more of him. The cavern of your mouth is hot and wet, and whilst he can feel your throat constrict you seem to want to take more of him.

“S-so good for me” he mumbles, and his thumb blots a tear running down your cheek.

“Ah, ah kitten, no need to get ahead of yourself” he gently chides, which naturally spurns you on more. Sylus’ head falls back again, mouth open as he shallowly thrusts into your throat. His eyes flicker open when he hears the wet sound of your fingers touching yourself as you pull back a little to concentrate on lavishing his length with your tongue.

“Fuck… is this turning you on, sweetie?” You hum in response and Sylus groans at the feeling of the vibration “mmm such a pretty little slut for me… taking me so deep in your throat like this. Ah- I guess I wasn’t the only one dreaming of this.” His grip on your hair tightens and you can tell from his desperate pants that he’s reaching his limit. You quicken your actions, ignoring how lewd you sound slobbering and choking on his dick. Your jaw aches but he’s so close that you can’t stop. Your own pussy clenches around nothing as you soak your thighs in your own arousal.

“Fuck I’m going to-!” You brace yourself for his cum to spurt down your throat, and-

RING RING RING

You groan and open your eyes as your alarm slowly pulls you out of sleep’s clutches. You lay there for several moments, half dazed as you acclimatise back to your surroundings. Your hand eventually silences the alarm but you struggle to move beyond looking at your phone blearily. You had slept all night but still felt tired. You made a half formed mental note to ask Dr Zayne why that was and moved the heel of your hand to your face to rub the sleep out of your eye.

Yawning hurts, you figure out very quickly, and you attempt to move your jaw a few times to loosen it. It aches. And your throat felt dry too. Were you sick? You slowly sit up and hiss at the slight grazes on your knees. Surely that wasn’t a symptom of a cold was it?

It’s only when you strip off your sweat soaked pyjamas for a shower that you notice that your underwear is soaked through and your thighs are slick. You shiver and observe your body in the mirror. It looks much the same but there are tell tale signs that something happened. Your sleepy mind tries to focus as you wash yourself but you can only concentrate on putting yourself through the motions of your morning routine.

Last night still lingers in your thoughts at work, though you choose to compartmentalise it for a later time. Your mornings are filled with training and you dispel some low level Wanderers who spawn on the edge of town, which makes it easier to forget but it becomes near impossible to ignore in the afternoon as you sit at your desk, rereading the last sentence of the report you just wrote.

“Here” a mug of something warm and citrusy is placed on your desk and you look up in surprise at Xavier.

“Thanks, how did you know?” You give the liquid a small sip, relishing its soothing warmth against your sore throat.

“Your voice sounds pretty bad. Are you sure you’re not sick?” Xavier’s hand touches your forehead as his blue eyes narrow.

“I’m fine. I think I just fell asleep last night without my blanket. I found it on the floor this morning, I must have kicked it off me at some point.”

“Were you dreaming?”

Images from your dream flood your mind and you look away, afraid your blush will reveal the nature of those dreams.

“Yeah” you cough awkwardly “I think I did but it’s a bit blurry.”

“Maybe you were fighting Wanderers” Xavier speculates “or trying to beat the claw machine again.”

“Ugh don’t remind me! I was so close to getting that Sunset Tomato!”

Xavier smiles and shakes his head “you’re at the arcade so much it’s making its way into your dreams. You should really take a break.”

“Maybe… Have you ever had a dream that felt real?”

You nervously look up at Xavier, half expecting him to be alarmed but he quietly considers your question instead.

“Hmmm… what do you mean ‘felt real’?”

“Like, it felt like you were there. Physically. As though your body and your spirit and everything wasn’t in your bed anymore but in a whole new environment.” Xavier’s face remains unchanged.

“Forget it” you quickly dismiss “dumb question.”

“Not necessarily. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a dream like that but I remember reading something a while ago online about astral projection. Maybe there’s something to it?”

Xavier’s words stick in your mind long after you leave work. Could you actually be astral projecting into Sylus’ dreams? You try to Google it but the results are either too vague or sound too unfounded for you to take seriously, and you certainly weren’t feeling confident about searching ‘Can you astral project into your sort of enemy sort of crush’s wet dream?’

That was another thing. The dream was definitely his which raised hundreds of other questions in its wake - did he like you too or was it just a coincidence that the dream starred you? Did he dream about you often? In similar positions? And what was with the lingerie? You had never seen something that toed the line between obscene and elegant before. Was that the kind of thing he liked? You glanced at the laundry you had just hung up to dry - black, plain, utilitarian underwear - maybe it was better for everyone if your affair remained in the dream sphere…

[dimonds456]

"Perhaps he may yet prove his worth to me" headcanon

I have So many Ford thoughts about this era of his life, here is only a sliver of my insanity FGHJSD

Alt text below cut ^^

ID: a bunch of Discord screenshots showing a single user rambling about Stanford Pines from Gravity Falls. User Dimonds456 has their profile set to the autism eyes Stanley image from Lost Legends. Here is the full transcript of everything they said:

Listening to Hana's Ford video at work again today (the 5 hour one) and something they were talking about in it I kinda wanna elaborate on. The line "perhaps he can still prove his worth to me," to me, is a line that I think Ford both does mean and doesn't mean at the same time, and the reason why is. sad.

To me, this is Ford realizing he's got no way out, right? Like, contacting Stan is part of his last resort plan, the one he had to switch to once he was given the 72 hours before his life- and the world's- came to an end

Like, let's be real: the plan "I'm gonna go back up to the caves to where I first discovered Bill and hope and pray there's an answer there" REALLY ISNT a plan

Hope and pray isn't a survival strategy, but that's where Ford is at rn

Every other plan failed.

Project Mentem takes too long to encrypt, and more than likely wouldn't stop possession anyway. It would just prevent Bill from seeing Ford's thoughts and memories. Might provide some protection, but not enough.

The Bill Proof suit he isn't mechanically knowledgable enough to actually make effectively, and he doesn't know McGucket is still in town

He can't go down to the basement else risk the possibility of Bill possessing him, and if he tries to dismantle the portal, as we see in TBOB, there's a good chance Bill will just fucking torture him over it

He doesn't know about the Cipher Wheel at this point, or if he does, doesn't believe it'll help. And even if he did, he doesn't know enough people or enough about people to know who he needs

He doesn't know about using a metal plate/tinfoil hat

He couldn't get access to unicorn hair, so the barrier is out(edited)

The caves were his last resort

At this point, he knows there's a good chance he's going to die. All he can do is make sure the world stays alive after the fact. But that doesn't mean he wants to. He is fighting Bill tooth and nail, holding out for as long as he can, despite the knowledge that in 72 hours, he is going to die.

Or, if not die, he's going to be blind and subjected to Bill's every whim

To me, the "perhaps he can still prove his worth to me" line is him clinging to the one last thing he DOES have control over: his emotions. And he's choosing to be angry because anger is a better emotion to feel than fear or anxiety

Cuz at this point, his entire world has been flipped upside-down, right

Bill was evil

Fidds was right

He's second-guessing his decisions about Stanley

He writes, in code, "have I been too harsh [to Stan] all along?"

Like, over the course of a couple days/a month, his entire view of the world and how it works has spun WILDLY out of control

He can't change the fact that Bill is evil, he can't change the fact that Fidds was right, so in a desperate act to cling to the one thing he has control over, he continues to take it out on Stan, cuz that's all he has

It's PEAK learned helpllessness

He has to have been right about something.

Cuz otherwise, he's the worst. And no one wants to feel like that, especially while being tortured at the hands of a demon and trying to protect the goddamn world

So he both means it, since I do think that came from a genuine place (his anger at Stan over the project), but also doesn't mean it at all (he knows Stan has worth but is too Regina George to admit that right now)

It's also why he was SO QUICK to bring that up during his and Stanley's fight

Again, he's clinging onto that anger as hard as he can

He had to cooporate with Stan to try and get him to take the Journal, but as soon as it looked like that plan was gonna fail, he started flipping out, both from stress, fear, anxiety, and from his anger he is refusing to let go

Again, Ford isn't dumb. He knows he's running on borrowed time at this point.

And something about knowing your life is either gonna end soon, or you're gonna become disabled and toyed with for the rest of your life, would mean he's not thinking rationally

ON TOP OF the lack of sleep and clarity

Does this make sense FGHJSKD

I'm pushing my learned helplessness headcanon on y'all SO HARD I'm not even gonna lie GFDHSJK

End transcript, end ID.

[the-moon-files]

I’m not sure if I’ve said this one already or not, but I wanted to tell you anyways! It’s about the humans-are-not-hylians AU!

You know the uncanny valley evolution? That thing where when you look at something that resembles a living being too closely and some part of your mind is screaming that it’s not whatever it looks like and to get away from it? Imagine that with the reader! They can spot shapeshifters easily because of this, but it instills the same extreme primal fear we’d experience, so it might be hard for the reader to confront them at first and they’ll instead just tell the Chain for a while.

This might be a double edged sword, though, because when Twilight is in his wolf form, the reader still gets that same feeling when “Wolfie” is looking at them, whether or not they know it’s Twilight. In this case, the first time the reader spots Wolfie approaching the camp, they probably freak out and try to avoid him, even if the Links are okay with him or if he seems familiar to them.

The bottom line is that wolf isn’t a wolf, so what is he?

“It’s okay, he’s a really friendly wolf!”

“...That’s not a wolf...”

Sorry i took forever to respond!! im slow as always, life is too busy for even my hobbies lately sobs 😭

bro this is especially true bc someone looked back at TP games and how he looks in his “wolf” form, and apparently he is actually a dog lol - like at most a wolf-hybrid, i added this in to support this Hyrule-is-hella-Uncanny AU lol

Moon: Guide! - Gender Neutral/Masc!Reader (”you”/he/him)

Orbit: Short headcanons

Stars: mentions of most of our Links <3

Comets & Meteors: CWs: typical LU/Loz violence, mild swearing, etc & TWs: mild possible derealization trigger, talk of Link’s Awakening and Koholint.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

The Yiga clan members have never fooled you, not Once in person, unlike back when hyrule was still a video game

it was the constant smell of bananas, the way their eyes were always a little unfocused or they moved their head to move around their eyes, rather than their actual pupils moving, the facial muscles all stiff, usually stuck in an uncomfortable smile-

it makes more sense once u realize that they technically have a mask under that glamour hylian face, but its never not hilarious to see Wild look over his shoulder at you before approaching a lone traveler on the roads and watch him get increasingly frantic to get ur attention to see if theyre yiga lmao

u bet ur ass every link was relying on you on their adventures to know shapeshifters/illusions/glamours/etc. on sight and tell them to better prep them/warn them

tbh they all got at least a little better at being able to tell the difference the longer they heard you point out stuff/talk abt exactly why it was off-putting

(that said some of ur heroes are better at it than others, both in general, and certain aspects of it: like Twilight isn’t able to pick up illusions/glamours for the life of him, literally, sometimes, but he is more likely to figure out shapeshifters by scent after you Guided him)

(no, your heart didnt crack a little after learning that the boys had a harder time with deceit after you stopped playing the game = “were forced to leave after their adventure” bc while they were better at detecting it, they werent on ur human level yet..)

(…the only deception you ever really fell for was Koholint. It was so painful too, because Legend quietly disclosed to you one late night that you would constantly get strange feelings/uncanny disturbances, but were never able to put a name to it for him, which both made you jumpy/paranoid on the island, but made him regret ever letting his guard down all the more or feel guilty for what felt like dismissing ur instincts the more he relaxed… Legend never doubted your sense for the uncanny ever again. He takes it seriously every time now.

When you feel as if you should apologize, he tells u not to, that these days he takes comfort in it actually, it makes him feel safer. Legend looks to your face for confirmation that something isn’t a dream, and if you look at ease, so is he.)

its the way you casually laugh at Twi being called “Wolfie” when he’s obviously a wolf-dog hybrid or just a big dog

and when everyones confused u just explain smth smth, wolf heads are larger in comparison to their body, their legs are narrow, their paws are big, dogs are like the oppposite, or way more proportional like “Wolfie” is, dogs bob around when they run like “wolfie”, and have shorter legs,

smth smth wolves cant have eye colors like blue, only dogs/wolf-dog hybrids can silly-

and Wolfie is just like, 😐 😑 😐

turning around and walking away, bc hylias knotted fucking braid- he really cant escape the dog accusations now, you literally used ur freaky truth-seeing instinct and read his shapeshifter ass from head to literal toe/paw-

Wild/Hyrule look fascinated, Wind and Legend cant breath theyre laughing so hard, Time is coughing suspiciously into his fist and pops back up smirking, Four is laughing but also encouraging you to keep going, Sky is desperately trying to keep it together while also trying to get Twi to come back lmao, Wars is literally pointing and laughing ashkljdl-

ok but Twi gets his revenge later by tricking you into yapping abt how Hyrule/Four/Time all kind of look “off” sometimes too

like how u swear Rulie is glowing subtly when the moon is full, or how the world distorts behind his back sometimes,

or how Four’s eyes change colors all the time, his fighting style looks like its rotating between 4 diff ppl’s techniques,

or how Time’s face wrinkles like smile lines/crows feet at the corner of his eyes will randomly appear and disappear, how he’ll have some stubble one day then 3 days later despite having not shaven (u literally saw him wake up and do his morning routine) it’ll disappear like it was never there in the first place-

and when Twi has stopped asking you abt the others as they all reel over the knowledge of what all u can tell abt them,

(ur quietly relieved no one asked abt Wild.

You resolve urself to just lie if anyone asks, even to Wild himself.)

☆

hey im alive!! im slow yknow how it is,

ive been doing too much, and i cant wait to be done with this class so i can have free time guilt free again 🥲

god thats one good thing abt getting out of academia i dont miss and would only wish on my worst enemy,

the anxiety of doing smth, even necessary stuff like eating/sleeping/showering, and feeling liek you should be doing homework instead, god its so awful

cant wait to feel like an adult with my own life again lmao

that certification better work and get me a white collar job goddamit 🤞

anyway, hope ur all having a good weekend,

and just to let u know, im so happy acc that im alive to see the first zelda game that actually follows what i originally thought the plot of zelda games was when i was a kid lmao

(zelda as the protag, saving link!!)

Peace out,

🌙

[gay-dorito-dust]

Taglist: @your-favorite-god @cens0r3d @lovelyteenagebeard

Heeding Aemond’s words, you decided that an audience with Cannibal was required. So in the dead of night you slipped out of the red keep through the secrete passages you’ve learned thanks to Aegon, almost undetected had you not almost collided with a rat catcher who was accompanied by the cutest dog you’ve did see, before fleeing into the very same woods upon your first encounter with the behemoth of legend.

Once you got to the cave Helaena’s words had been proven true, Cannibal had been waiting for you as the silhouette of his head could be seen poked out of the dark, just as a pair dark green eyes like Greek fire looking directly at you but you weren’t afraid like last time.

‘Cannibal.’ You greeted as you bowed before the dragon, whom let out an almost purring sound at the sign of respect shown towards him. After all many people who tried to claim him expected him to submit to their will, but Cannibal knew his worth and vowed to never allow a pathetic creature to ride him, but one who’d inevitably catch his eye by accident.

‘I’m going to cut the formalities and be upfront with you and that is because time is limited and I have been so foolishly trying to avoid a predestined fate.’ You tell the dragon who only watched you with curiosity that it made you wonder how many others had been giving the same curtesy, not many you presumed but now wasn’t the time to falter when morning was fast approaching. ‘People, powerful people are going to try and stake claim to you through me in hopes of getting you to yield.’

Cannibal lets out a powerful roar that you felt within your chest, resonating with you in a way that you didn’t think was possible. You could feel his hatred for cowards, weaklings and people who felt the need to claim more than was needed, a spark has been light between the two of you and it was only starting to grow to a fierce but stubborn flame.

‘I had a feeling you would hate that.’ You told the dragon as you moved closer all the while he looked at you, steam puffing from his nostrils, his eyes practically glowing like hellish pits of fire amidst the night. Cannibal was beautiful as he was terrifying and you were growing to like the thrill of having him as your companion, your friend and not just a dragon you simply rode for convince. ‘So here is my proposal, should you accept, you take me as your rider an you shall keep your freedom for I will not clip your wings as you are a dragon through and through, the sky is your domain and I shall not take that from you.’ You added as you watched Cannibal lower his head so that he could meet you eye to eye, interested in what you had to say.

‘Also, there’s just one other thing that I may ask of you cannibal.’ The dragon only huffed as though telling you to go on.

‘Consume any dragon and their rider should their boastfulness overtakes their common sense,’ you told him in seriousness, ‘make them remember to fear the name Cannibal for it is not just a name to take lightly.’ You then took a step back from the dragon and held out of your hand, palm out flat as the nerves within you went wild, this was by far the stupidest and most terrifying thing you have ever done but still you had to see it through. ‘Do we have a deal?’ You finished.

Cannibal studied you for a moment, his eyes looking deep into your own that you felt as though he could see your soul, your true being, before moving his head closer to you and pressing his snout against your hand. It was rough, warm but alive and you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you had just made history.

You had just became Cannibal’s first rider.

[galactic-magick]

here i come with arcane prompts bestie >:3

but this one might hurt ;-;

also SPOILERS FOR S1 IF ANYONE HASNT SEEN IT YET

/////

how about a reader's reaction to the council getting bombed O_O

their frantic attempts to find their lover(Viktor ofc :3), but who they find may not be the man they once knew TwT

I got a little carried away with this one bestie...

-

I Thought You Were Dead: Viktor x Reader

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Smut about halfway through. I put a *** before the smut starts in case anyone doesn't want to read that part. Reader has afab anatomy but no pronouns or feminine specific endearments are used. Also LORE SPOILERS, if you don't know what happens to Viktor in the League of Legends lore then don't read this!!

Author's Notes: This could be read as a part 2 to my other Viktor fic Nights Like This, which takes place in Act 1 whereas this takes place after season 1.

-

-

-

The explosion was deafening.

You can feel your soul sink as soon as you step outside your house, watching the smoke surround the council building. Your feet start running before you’ve processed anything, pushing through the gasping crowds in the streets with their eyes glued to the same devastating spectacle.

Tears stream down your face against the dusty wind, praying to anyone who will listen that your worst fear hasn’t happened. Running as if getting there faster might change the outcome.

It can’t end like this. Not when you haven’t said everything you want to say. Not when you have so much left to do together.

Not when you haven’t said goodbye.

The truth is, you haven’t even seen your husband in several days, maybe even a whole week. He’s been distant lately, so consumed by his experiments that he rarely comes home anymore. You knew what you were getting into marrying a scientist, especially the finest scientist in Piltover, but it still hurts. It hurts to see him driving himself mad and getting sicker, refusing to let you take care of him like he used to. He doesn’t like when you come to visit him at the lab because it’s too dangerous, and he doesn’t come home because he wants to be in the lab—so you’ve stopped trying. You can’t bear to see him hardly eat or sleep for days. You know he loves you, and you still love him, but right now there’s no getting through to him, and all you can do is wait it out until he either comes to his senses or succumbs to his torturous research.

Your mind flashes back to all the fights you had, begging him to come home, begging him to let you stay by his side. You both said things you shouldn’t have, hearts torn apart in mourning of a marriage that once was so perfect. You miss the nights where you were each other's safe space, where the world didn’t feel so grand and overwhelming. You wonder when it was exactly that you stopped fighting, when you gave up on begging and simply loved him as much as you could whenever you finally saw him.

A large battalion of enforcers encircle the scene, pushing back civilians as they attempt to view what happened. The rubble has fallen into mountains, several of them on fire.

You know he was in there. He must’ve been.

“Where are the survivors?!” you demand, shoving against the enforcers.

“We have not found any yet. Please return to your home-”

You pull out the knife you keep in your pocket for emergencies, pressing it against the enforcer’s throat, “My husband was in there. I am not leaving until I find him.”

The other enforcers turn their weapons towards you, and you quickly realize you’ll never beat them with nothing but a dagger and deep rooted rage.

You drop the knife to the ground and put your hands up, awaiting your fate. Would they kill you? Send you home with a warning? Trial you?

Well, not without a council.

“Please…” the sobs return, their weapons still pointing at you. “I just want to know if he’s alive. Just let me look for his body-”

You’re cut off by hands on your wrists and mouth, handcuffing you and knocking you out.

Several months later...

You should’ve known any retaliation against an enforcer could get you thrown in here.

Back against the stone wall of your cell in Stillwater, you envision that day once again, hating yourself for being so stupid. Without the council, the enforcers have started throwing literally anyone in here. In an attempt to contain the chaos of no longer having a government, even the smallest crime or protest is equivalent to murder. All you did was threaten an officer for information on your husband, but that was enough to banish you from any possibility of ever seeing him again.

If he was alive, would he know to come find you? Or would he go back home to find you gone and assume you died? Would he throw himself back into his research regardless of the tragic accident, not even noticing you haven’t tried to visit him in months?

Most days it’s easier to just tell yourself he’s dead. The man you loved so deeply no longer exists, and you’ll never love again. This is your life now, cold and dark and hopeless.

You sink to the floor, leaning on your side in an effort to get some sleep.

Though your slumber is awakened not long after by terrifying noises down the hall.

A collection of screams, an alarm bell, and loud clanging fill your ears. You jump up, looking through the bars of your cell to get a glimpse. You see nothing, but then begin to hear stomping footsteps thundering towards your end of the hall.

You stumble back to the far wall, shaking as the footsteps get closer.

The first thing you see is a pair of glowing orange eyes staring at you through the bars, and your breath leaves your lungs.

Is this really how you’re fated to die?

With ease, the mysterious figure rips off the door with what looks like a mechanical arm. The dim light hits him, and your entire body trembles. He’s covered in metal plating and armor, his face covered with a thick mask. He doesn’t strike you as human, except for what looks like human hair falling around his head.

He walks towards you, and you cower in his shadow. What does this machine want from you? You have nothing.

He says your name, and you freeze. It’s modulated and echoed from the mask, but you are certain that’s what he said.

And you’re also certain you’ve heard that voice before.

The figure reaches his hand towards you, the cold metal of his fingers touching your face. It tingles, as if there’s energy sparking through. His other hand lifts off his mask and drops it to the floor.

“Viktor?”

Parts of his face are covered with metal plating, but it’s undoubtedly him. Same eyes, same nose, same cheekbones. His hair swooping down the sides of his forehead and the small gap between his teeth.

You throw your arms around him and kiss him, your body hitting his metal torso hard enough to leave a bruise, but you don’t care. You kiss him until there’s not a single atom of oxygen left in your lungs, and even then you risk a few seconds more, his lips worthy of causing suffocation. Your fingers slide into his hair, just as soft as your remember. He gently embraces you back, wary of hurting you with how tightly he wishes to hold you.

“Viktor—I went to find you that day—“ you pant for air. “I thought you were dead—“

“I know, darling, I know,” he kisses your forehead before fervently returning to your lips. “I thought you were dead too before I heard word of people being sent here.”

He breaks apart from you and you let out a soft whine, “Vik-”

“I have to get you out of here now, okay?”

You nod in understanding and grab onto him as he puts his mask back on. He races back down the hall, pushing any leftover guards out of his way. You cling onto him, in disbelief that he moves so fast with ease. So many questions run through your mind, but you know you’ll have to wait for answers.

He carries and holds you in silence until you both get to safety. You don’t recognize the place he’s taken you to, but it’s undoubtedly his space. The tools and gadgets all over the tables and walls, the dim light you don’t understand how anyone could work under, the journals with different equations written barely legibly. You wonder if your old home is still standing or has been taken by someone else. Either way, this is your home now.

With him.

He takes off his mask and you’re once again met with his beautiful face. Scarred and tired, but still more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him.

“I’m so sorry. For everything,” he says. “I know I will never be able to make it up to you, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I am never letting you leave my sight again.”

Your bodies instinctively wrap around each-other, him picking you up and setting you down on one of his desks. The sensation is so new, since he’s never been strong enough to lift you before. Despite the novelty though, it feels as if no time has passed, as if this is a routine you’ve done every day, his hands all over you as soon as you’re alone.

You want to ignore the insanity of all this, how the love of your life has returned to you encased in metal. You want to forego all the questions, letting him continue his kisses on your neck and the wandering fingers on your thigh. You wonder what he feels like now—if it’s different—if what he can do to you now will make you forget every tear you ever shed for him.

You sigh, completely drunk on his touches.

“Viktor…” You look into his eyes, tracing your thumbs along his now metallic jaw. “I want to know what happened to you. Please.”

His caresses slow, his focus shifting to your words, “I will tell you everything, I promise,”

You grasp his hands, “Then tell me.”

He exhales, looking down at himself. He doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to acknowledge the truth. He doesn’t want to risk you thinking of him differently or not loving him the same. Without you, he’d have nothing left to stay human for.

After all, he’s more machine than man now.

“I was as good as dead,” he finally says. “My injuries should’ve killed me, but an old…” he hesitates, “...friend found me. He helped me use hextech and shimmer to fix and augment my body. I’m stronger now, I can help more people now, I can protect you now. I’ve evolved beyond my human ailments-”

“Viktor,” you interrupt him. “Who helped you?”

He falls silent, fully aware you already know the answer.

“How could you?” you scold him. “How could you go back to that horrid, vile man? Who knows what he really did to you?”

“Singed may have unethical methods, but I assure you I’d be dead right now without him. You wouldn’t understand-”

“I understand that he sees you as nothing more than an experiment! What’s going to happen when this new body starts to break down? He’ll replace you with more mechanical parts until there’s nothing left of you. He does anything to make his specimens survive, and you know that!”

“So you’d rather me be dead? You’d rather still be in Stillwater, rotting your days away in misery?”

The floodgates of your glassy eyes break, and you let out the ugliest of sobs that have been building up for too long. No, you don’t want him dead, of course you don’t.

But there are fates worse than death.

You clumsily grab for him, pulling him between your legs and surrounding him with your limbs. Your lips crash together once more, this time more carnal and aggressive. Regardless of how angry you are, you can’t deny that you need him desperately. He cradles your face, wiping your tears away as they fall.

“Just promise me…” you beg into his mouth. “Promise me you won’t go back there again. Stay with me.”

“I promise,” he hums. “But you have to promise me something too.”

“What?” your eyes are already fluttering deliriously.

“You have to promise you’ll let me apologize every day of the rest of our lives,” he brushes his lips against your ear while his hands wander up your shirt, “And I think I know how you want me to do it.”

Your eyes widen, shivers already running down your spine.

***

It’s been so long, your body yearning for his as if you’ve been deprived from him for an eternity. You want to feel his new hands everywhere, his new fingers inside you…

Viktor wastes no time stripping you down, your shirt and bra flung across the room. He buries his face between your breasts for a moment before hoisting you up again, carrying you to the mattress in the corner.

“Since when do you ever have a proper place to sleep in your labs?” you laugh, sinking into the unexpected comfort.

“I didn’t get it for sleeping,” he smirks, placing kisses across your chest and shoulders, “I knew what I wanted to do as soon as I rescued you.”

“You’re telling me you got this bed just to fuck me?”

“Of course,” he shrugs, completely matter-of-factually.

You chuckle, a genuine smile stretching across your face so wide it almost hurts. You haven’t laughed or felt the pure joy and bliss of being in love in so long.

“I…” Viktor speaks again, hovering over you. “I don’t know fully what this new body can do. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” you smile, intertwining your fingers with his. “Is it...different?”

“Everything’s different,” he leans down to kiss you again. “Let’s just hope it’s in a good way.”

You nod enthusiastically, pulling him down to you. His cold metal torso presses against yours, a surprisingly pleasant sensation. You quickly acclimate to the new textures of his figure, wondering if any skin still exists.

He remembers all the places you like to be touched and kissed, and you grow more impatient by the minute. You’ve needed him—ached for him. You want him in any way he can give you.

He pulls off the rest of your clothes, teasing his mechanical fingers in circles around your clit.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Mmhmm,” you moan, slithering your own fingers into his hair.

Viktor’s always been good with his hands, being an inventor and all. He’s never once failed to satisfy you with his hands alone since you’ve been together, and he certainly wasn’t stopping now. He goes slowly, constantly needing reassurance that you’re alright. There’s nothing sharp about his fingers, a relief to both of you. They move just like his old flesh did, pulsing in and out with the finest precision. There’s moments where you feel a slight vibration, although you’re unsure if he’s doing that purposefully. Either way, he keeps you in ecstasy until you eventually come undone.

You pull his lips back up to yours immediately, craving his taste. His hands run down your body once again before returning back to the same spot.

You yelp his name as he works more fingers inside you. This is unheard of, him going back for more so soon. You had grown accustomed to his low stamina from before, and you never minded multiple rounds being a rarity. But now there’s not a single hint of exhaustion on his face, his augments freeing him from much of the pain that used to plague him. Instead there’s determination in his eyes, a drive to make love to you until you can’t take it anymore.

He builds you up to your second orgasm of the night, kissing and holding you softly as you come down from it.

“Viktor…” you sigh, completely out of breath. “I want to make you feel good too.”

He shakes his head, watching as your hands slide down his body, “Darling, I...I’m not sure if everything works the same. You don’t have to worry about me—“

“Let me try,” you plead. “Does any of this come off?”

He nods, removing the outer layers of metal with clicks and hisses. It was hard for you to tell where the armor ended and his body began, but the more he takes off, the more you recognize his familiar silhouette. There’s still patches of flesh here and there—warm skin to your fingertips, fused with the augmentations flawlessly.

And it seems the area you’ve wanted to see is one of the places untouched.

Well, not completely untouched. It’s covered in glowing purple veins, throbbing like they’ll explode any second. Viktor looks into your eyes nervously, and you reassure him with a kiss.

“It’ll be okay,” your breaths are hot, hovering over his lips. “Now tell me what you want, darling.”

“You.” he moans as your hand takes hold of his hardness.

“Everything seems to be working fine to me,” you smile, lining him up with your entrance. “I’m ready when you are.”

He’s shaking, for the first time since all his enhancements. He’s been so strong—no—indestructible, yet one look at you and the vulnerability returns in crashing waves. He’s still the same man you fell in love with, but now he could too easily hurt you.

He presses in slowly, eyes locked on your expressions for any sign of discomfort, but they never come. Instead, the noises and faces you make could be enough for him to finish right then and there if he didn’t have such control.

“Viktor…” you sigh, pulling him towards you as he bottoms out. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

He stamps kisses on your jaw, then nuzzles his nose into your neck, “You feel even better than I remembered.”

“Do I now?” you chuckle, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes as he looks back up at you.

“Mmhmm,” he begins to thrust in and out slowly, earning more luscious sounds from your lips.

There’s so much of him that feels the same, but the sensation is so new. Is he bigger than before? Is it just the different texture from the shimmer experiments? You’re not sure, all you truly care about is that he feels divine.

You’re both getting close, whispering “I love you’s” until the long awaited release. He holds you tightly afterwards, refusing to let go until you both catch your breath.

“Viktor,” you ruffle his hair. “As amazing as that was, I don’t think I can handle a round four.”

He chuckles, “That’s alright. I’ll only go as long as you want me to. There’s always tomorrow.”

You giggle, kissing the top of his head. You push yourself up on your elbows, looking at the mess you both made, “I think we ruined your new mattress.”

He glances as well, noticing the cum stains, some of them a light purple color, a supposed side effect of the shimmer, “We’ll get a new one. For now lets get you cleaned up.”

He picks you up in one swift motion, carrying you outside. His new lab is conveniently next to the river, and far away enough from other houses to protect your decency. The water is cold, but not unbearably so. The stickiness rinses off, and you’re left to admire your lover once again in the moonlight.

He glistens under the stars, his gaze soft and sweet, just as it’s always been. His hands never leave you, caressing your wet skin gently and adoringly.

He’s still everything you’ve ever wanted. He’s still the man you’d die and kill for.

He’s still the one you’ll spend the rest of your days with, no matter what he becomes.

[thiefcatmoth]

pac: your hidden power - and how to strengthen it

general reading. pick a pile, listening to your intuition. if nothing resonates, leave this pac behind.

pile 1

even in those moments when it seems to you that all is lost, you will not be broken until the end, and later, when the storm passes, you will be able to heal. there is a source of inexhaustible energy hidden within you, and even when it is not bubbling, it is present inside you as a calm and deep river. this hidden source, capable of healing any of your wounds, will also help you become the best version of yourself and always find that very drop of enthusiasm to look into the distance and try to take the first step. to help yourself develop this strength, do not stop believing in what you want most. do not let anyone rip your wings, exude love in spite of everything. become the person that, when you see, you will turn around and say that you want to be the same. love yourself, love the life you are building, and you will always find an opportunity to reach for your inner healing.

pile 2

you can bring anyone to light, you can penetrate to the very essence of things, help others to be frank and pure in their thoughts even in the face of trials. you, like a lighthouse, light the way for yourself and others, and if they follow, if they remain as spiritual and pure as you, then they can get straight to their dream... and you can go to your dreams too. to help yourself develop this power, be more intuitive. allow yourself to obey your emotions, let the power flow freely through your body. if you feel that your body is pulling you to go there - go. if you feel that you need to cry - cry, without fear of being seen. be gentle now, and then - furious, live life to the fullest, without deceiving or holding back. be real, be brave, be emotional, and the light inside you will never go out.

pile 3

you will be able to find a way to anyone, even the most closed heart, find a way and words to open up what some are not ready to share. even when it seems to others that the way is closed, you, like the heroes of ancient legends, will be able to use not force, but intelligence and words to overcome enemies and achieve your goals. ease, quickness of thought, openness to new things and the ability to build contacts will become your wings on this path. to develop this ability in yourself, help yourself to rest and heal, find moments in every day to help yourself be filled with energy. take care of your body, soul and mind, feed yourself with the right energies - if you need mystical practices, use them, then meditate, or keep a diary. raise awareness, but do not force yourself. your strength blossoms when it is cultivated with care and without haste, when development goes in all directions at once, nourishing you spiritually and physically. develop yourself, and you can do anything.

pile 4

in your soul and heart, even in dark moments, there is always so much love that the unprepared will think that they can drown in it. you are full of it, and you can give it unconditionally, sincerely, endlessly, and it will not take a grain of your strength. it is hard to be pure big heart, but you do it, without even straining yourself, without inventing cunning ways - you can be yourself, and those around you will involuntarily bask in your warmth, like kittens. to develop this strength, do not be afraid to act when you see the need for it. you should listen to reason, using the opportunities and chances that come to you - chances for the correct application of your strength, emotions and energy. do not be afraid to cut off from yourself people who want to use you. think about your own good, and you will be able to find ways to fulfill yourself, to always feel happy and full of love to the brim. think before you give, and you will accumulate so much that at the right moment you will be surprised by your own soul and spiritual generosity.

thanks for the reading!

dividers by @strangergraphics-archive, all images are not mine

[maple-the-awesome]

The Chain Meets His Baby || 2/2

Part 1 ||

Pairing: Twilight, Warrior, Legend, Sky x Reader

Requested by @kieradumpzz081927: I hope your request are open(or if ur free for requests), so i saw ur LU oneshots about the one that is called ' He becames a dad ' or smth. So, why not that he would introduce his kid(s) to the chain? That ones going to be interesting Warning: Some mature jokes here and there. Nothing major, but gotta give the new dad a little hell, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Zelda Masterlist 🤍Fandom Masterlist

Six minutes and twenty seconds. That's how long you were able to relax before a series of knocks ruined your peace. Predictably, the sound is enough to echo throughout your small home followed by shrilling cries from the once silent cradle mere feet from your bedside. 

You could almost cry yourself, although you're able to hold in your frustrations thanks to the smoothing pat your husband gives your head before sighing heavily himself and sitting up from bed. All the two of you wanted was one second of sleep - one second to collapse in bed next to each other and rest your eyes which feel as if they haven't shut in weeks, but apparently, that's too much to ask of this universe.

After giving a quick kiss to your cheek (and smirking at your annoyed grumbling), Twilight slides off the bed and makes his way to the cradle. There, he skillfully sweeps the wiggling newborn into his arms, cooing the distressed baby loving as they make their way to the front door. Seeing as this precious child has only existed for a mere week, it can't really be too much of a surprise that your home has become a hotspot for visitors. Between the village children excitedly wanting to see their newest member and their parents stopping by to offer meals, advice, and all-around support, it seems your door is almost always open these days (not you truly mind one bit), although as it would turn out, your current company doesn't fall into the excepted categories. 

"What are you guys doing here?" Twilight suddenly doesn't feel so tired anymore once setting eyes upon the familiar group. They're all here - all eight of the heroes of courage; his treasured friends. This is, what, the third time his world has somehow crossed with theirs? This is really becoming a common pattern, isn't it, and for a split moment, Twilight feels a strike of fear at the thought of this being the start of yet another long, tiresome journey. Now!? He couldn't possibly leave now! What kind of partner and father would that make him? You need him here. He promised he'd be home for you, and for -

"- There's no danger, so don't fret. We've already investigated everything before coming here," Time, who must've read Twilight's worried expression, promptly explains things while failing to fall victim to the same jaw-dropped silence that strikes every other hero in the group as they all stare in astonishment at Twilight - or more accurately, the bothered baby huffing in his arms.

Instead of mocking surprise, Time’s eye casually drops to acknowledge the little one, his lips lifting into a pleasant smile, “...And this must be the famous pup I’ve heard so much about?”

“Wait, you knew?!” Sky gasps, everyone’s shocked attention snapping to the Old Man. He pays them no mind, too focused on his main priority of being the first to hold his great-great-something grandson who Twilight eagerly passes over.

“Ah!” The Rancher’s once worried expression changes like a switch, flashing away into an all-too excited grin. As has been common lately, having new company around immediately sparkles a rambling spiel fueled by his flooding avidity (which has impressively failed to die down even with the exhaustion of early fatherhood), “I was gonna send letters to y’all - it just slipped my mind. These past few days have been a bit chaotic while getting all adjusted. Yep, this one’s mine - lil’ Lupin. He’s officially four days old, born at 10:14 in the morning at a healthy 7.6 pounds -”

“- You’re gonna have to write all that down for any of us to remember it,” Wild rolls his eyes, although it’s in good spirit as he peeks at the tiny baby with a small smile. It doesn’t take the other boys long to notice that, like Time, their Champion doesn’t seem too surprised by this situation either, looking at the newborn with only a little bit more interest than he would a cute puppy.

“I take it you knew, too, then?” Four quizzes.

“He kept hinting towards it at first until I finally gave in and asked. I didn’t know when to expect them to be here, though.”

“It’s been nine months since then,” Twilight points out teasingly, causing Wild to huff and throw his hands up in the air defensively. 

“How should I know how long they take to bake! Besides, judging by the way you practically sent me a whole novel about how excited you were, I figured it was only going to be a matter of weeks, maybe a few months by that point. How in Hylia’s name did you stand to be like that for nine?”

“I barely did! It was hell having to be that patience, anyone here could tell you…but Lupin’s here now and definitely worth the wait, I’d say,” Twilight sighs dramatically, looking lovingly at his son who by now has settled peacefully in the comfort of Time’s arms, no longer squirming and fussing. To be fair, his ancestor does have quite a bit of practice juggling twins at this point. One is nothing.

“He’s a beautiful baby, that’s for sure,” Time chuckles, at last taking his eyes away from his newest family member, “You did good, cub.” 

Twilight preens at his mentor’s compliment, “Isn’t he? I’ve been around other babies before, but having one of my very own…It just hits different, ya’ know? …I actually wouldn’t mind a couple more -”

“- Don’t push your luck, mister,” On cue, you appear from around the corner, tiredly rubbing your eyes yet managing a smile to greet the rest of the Chain, "You weren't the one who had to go through nine months of heartburn followed by hours of torture.”

“- Eventually. I wouldn't mind a couple more ‘eventually’,” Twilight clarifies, quick to hook his arm around your waist and pull you against himself the second you’re close enough, “Besides, you handled it like a queen.”

You roll your eyes while resting your head against his shoulder, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere different.”

“That’s not what you said nine months ago~” Twilight smirks, pressing a kiss to your forehead only to earn himself a swat against the head.

Warrior originally elected to ignore the heavy knocking at his front door which threatened his peaceful morning's silence. Whatever this kingdom demands of him, they can simply add it to his tab. He's comfortable in bed where it's warm and you're snuggled in his arms, looking as beautiful as ever with a mess of bedhead and matching dark circles under your eyes. Best of all? Your son has achieved a new record of sleeping for three straight hours - THREE! 

Now, Warrior is relatively used to less-than-ideal sleep schedules as a hero and captain, so having a newborn around hasn't quite hit him with the same force as it might a typical man, but that doesn't mean either of you are going to be ungrateful towards this new parenting milestone. No, you were planning on taking full advantage of it actually, wanting nothing more than to spend a lazy morning in bed until your little monster inevitably awakes...however, it seems the universe always has other plans.

The knocking only grows more frequent and loud, drawing a groan from your fiancé who finally relents. Pushing himself out of bed, he reluctantly answers the door without much effort put into hiding his annoyed expression - that is until it naturally snaps into one of mild shock and excitement at the sight of his visitors. Instead of it being someone from the Castle or military, he's pleasantly surprised to find his old traveling companions, the other heroes of courage.

"What are you all doing here?" He suddenly doesn't feel so tired anymore, in fact he’s stricken with more life and a bright smile while gazing over the group to count each familiar face. Yep, they're all here - all eight of them. It's been so long! Well, maybe not that long. It hasn't even been a full year yet since visiting Twilight's family together, but that's still plenty of time to miss old friends.

"Well, some of us have been talking lately and we thought, why not put some time aside from our busy lives to have a little get together - just us heroes, for old times’ sake!” Wild announces enthusiastically, practically inviting himself inside, not that Warrior stops him or any of the others for that matter.

“It could be a little tradition of ours. Once a year, type of thing,” Sky explains more professionally, although he isn’t any less excited than the Champion. 

"A nice boy's trip to save you from the misses," Legend rephrases, elbowing the Captain’s side with a wink while passing by.

Warrior will admit: it is an intriguing proposal - getting away from the stresses of a hero to spend quality time with brothers who understand your woes. If only the Chain had visited a few months earlier, he’d be willing to entertain such a trip, but alas, he must give them a sympathetic smile instead, “As much fun as that sounds, I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you. At least not this time around.”

Immediately, the group’s uplifted smiles drop into disappointed frowns emphasized by a chorus of dejected groans. 

"You knights and all your fancy work kissing the royal family’s ass," Legend huffs, and Warrior was just about to bite back on that comment with a jab of his own, however their conversation is suddenly interrupted. 

A piercing cry catches the entire Chain off guard, many of the boys looking around wildly for the possible threat while others - namely Time and Twilight - are jolted by that familiar protective instinct they know all too well of from their own home lives.

“Actually, there’s another reason,” Warrior doesn’t hide his amusement towards everyone’s reactions nor does he hide his tired sigh once realizing his free trial of peace-and-quiet has ended. 

He doesn’t even make it to the doorway before you appear, already rocking the baby gently in your arms. It takes some fussing from both of you to smooth his tears, calming him down just long enough for Warrior to turn back to his friends while proudly gesturing to the newborn in your arms, “Well, allow us to introduce our son, Einar.”

From there, it takes mere seconds for the Chain to snap out of it and instantly crowd you both, each fighting to get a good look at this ‘son’ in question.

“Since when did you guys have a kid?!” Hyrule awes.

“He’s so little…He can’t be that old, right?” Sky gasps.

“Only a few weeks, I reckon,” Time observes calmly from the back, tall enough to simply gaze over the sea of shoulders and heads. 

“Hey, move out of the way! I can’t see! I wanna see, too!” Wind whines, shrugging to push his way through the barrier of bodies.

Twilight, steps back from the chaos to throw a playful smirk Warrior’s way, “Here I thought you were waiting for kids.”

“Us too,” You roll your eyes.

“Life happens,” Your partner merely shrugs, not even attempting to act ashamed of himself as he accepts responsibility of holding Einar while you excuse yourself to prepare a bottle once he starts whimpering again, “But we wouldn’t trade him for the world.”

“Geeze, you’re all getting old on us,” Legend mocks, eyeing Warrior, Time, and Twilight, “Not even three years ago, the Old Man was the only one of us in a committed relationship, now all three of you are suddenly tied down with children!”

“Don’t go sounding too jealous, Vet. I’m sure you’ll have your turn someday,” Warrior smirks, resulting in the other hero sticking out his tongue in disgust.

“As if. Me? A dad? You sure the world should be subjected to that?”

“Right. You might actually be doing everyone a favor by not reproducing.”

“Oh fuck off -”

“- Shh! Not in front of the baby!”

“I, for one, wouldn’t mind being a dad one day. It seems like a lot of fun,” Sky, coos, letting little Einar play with his finger, “If you ever need a babysitter, just let me know.”

"Careful. We might end up taking you up on that offer with how little we've been sleeping lately."

"Get accustomed to it, my friend, because it doesn't go away anytime soon," Time advises with a pat to the back, failing to hide the mirth filtering his voice as the new father sighs exasperatedly.

Legend isn’t usually the type to delight himself with hosting guests, nor is he much of an initiator when it comes to any sort of social interaction, so suffice to say, the Chain was rather thrown to have received unprompted invites to visit his world and home. Why the sudden open door? He gave no explanation, leaving all of the boys guessing, although Time has a few notable theories swirling in mind.

It all goes back to months ago when Legend had unexpectedly appeared at Lon Lon Ranch, claiming to have simply ‘been in the area’, yet Time knew better than to believe that. An experienced man like himself immediately took notice of his friend’s frazzled and irritable mood, such a state of dishevelment hinting towards one thing: problems at home - problems likely relating to you, to be exact, seeing as your boyfriend was swift to avoid any mention of your name when prompted.

Realizing that prying would be ineffective against someone so notorious for his emotional barriers, Time had allowed Legend to stay with him and his family without question. He, of course, kept a close eye on the young man, trying to deduce the situation the best he could from all those frustrated grumbles while working chores and pitiful sighs as the two sat together on the back porch after dinner. 

It was then that Legend had taken the moment to ask Time a rather odd question that had admittedly hung in the Old Man’s head for days afterwards along with a curious conclusion as to the true reason behind his sudden visit, however nothing more was said that night beyond some wisely woven words soaked in hidden meaning.

By morning, the veteran hero was visibly relaxed when quietly expressing his plans to return home to you. Clearly, whatever troubles that once plagued his mind had been resolved following a day of reflection and a goodnight’s sleep, so Time felt confident sending Legend back on his way with a wish of luck and an offer to return whenever needed.

Perhaps that incident and this friendly invite are unrelated, after all, it’s been months between the two, although Time can’t help but wonder, the memory of Legend’s question being of particular interest as the Chain approaches their destination. 

Some of the boys share their concerns along the way, a bit unsettled by the thought of Legend wanting to see them. Warrior even suggests the possibility of their friend having gone through a bad break-up, insisting there’s logic behind his guess since losing you would be the Vet’s lowest point, the extreme heartache being enough for him to abandon all stubbornness and reach out to the Chain for moral support. Arguments deemed his theory outlandish, however when Legend opens his front door to greet them, the boys begin to worry Warrior might indeed be a good prophet…

“It took you all long enough,” He huffs, his voice worn and scratchy which really sends home his obvious lack of sleep when paired with his unkempt appearance; heavy bags under his eyes and shaggy hair that stands up on all ends, “Come in, come in…”

‘Oh Hylia!’ The Chain thinks, sorrow for their friend already sinking into their bones as they illy prepare themselves for a story of true despair. Yes, Legend can be difficult and stubborn at times, and maybe you had your reasons, but surely he couldn’t have messed up bad enough to warrant you leaving him! Hasn’t the poor guy already been through enough?

“...Hey man, you doing alright?” Warrior was just about to rip the bandage off, his hand placed supportively upon his friend’s shoulder which earned him a sleepy look that falls sort of its intended glare, however before he can get any reply -

“- BABY!” Wind’s gasp pierces ears and makes several of the others leap in their skin. Indeed, if following the youngest hero’s excited point, it'll lead to where you stand in the doorway with an amused (that be it tired) chuckle…So, you didn’t leave after all? You’re still here, looking as rough as your partner which is probably excusable since in your arms is, in fact, a new baby.

“Hello everyone. I’m glad you could all make it.”

“...Oh thank Hylia you didn’t leave him!”

“What -?” Legend raises an eyebrow at Warrior’s dramatic sigh, yet he doesn’t get much of a chance to be offended. No one would notice anyway, their attention having swiftly abandoned their dear old friend in exchange for you and the baby you introduce.

“His name is Liron,” You note, earning a chorus of awes as the sweet little bundle scrunches his tiny face in displeasure towards the disruption to his peaceful sleep; already, he looks so much like his dad.

“So this is why you invited us over, huh?” Hyrule glances back over the sea of shoulders to send Legend an amused smile, “We thought something bad might’ve happened!”

“We wanted it to be a surprise…” The Vet sighs, unable to stay mad at the group’s energy, after all they have every right to be amazed. His son is pretty damn beautiful. 

“Well, I’ll be darn. You gotta kid now,” Twilight smirks, even going as far as to elbow Legend’s side which, as always, packs more strength than probably intended, “And after all that hell you gave us!”

“Yeah, yeah, karma's a bitch. Laugh it up - HEY! Wash your hands first!” Legend’s focus is immediately diverted from rubbing his sore ribs to pointing an accusing finger at Wild who’s stopped mid-reach from taking the baby you pass towards him.

"I did!" The Champion gasps in offense.

“Not here you didn’t. Do it again! Sinks in the kitchen!”

Wild grumbles, forced to forfeit his turn in holding the baby. A glare is all it takes for Hyrule to follow him shamefully as well, allowing Time to be the first to actually hold the little one since his hands successfully pass cleanliness approval. Nevertheless, despite his spotless palms and seasoned experience as a father himself, the older hero must put up with Legend's paranoid hovering which isn't too unlike a hawk's, ready to snatch back his baby at a second's notice if deeming the situation to be too ‘unsafe’. Fortunately, Time's nice enough not to mention this behavior beyond a silent smirk.

“...What went through your head when you realized you were going to be a dad?”

Now Legend’s question - as random as it had seemed those many months ago - makes complete sense. The timid whisper that spoke it, the nervous avoidance of any eye contact, and that deep, thoughtful frown while listening to Time’s honest answer - all signs that pointed towards a worried father-to-be desperate for direction as he fought to keep his own insecurities and fears at bay.

At least Time can finally rest easy knowing their past conversation did some good for his friend. The young man may be fidgeting while impatiently watching his new child be passed around the group for each to see, your gently hand upon his shoulder only doing so much to relax his anxieties. You’re also both beyond tired, fitting to Time’s warning that parenthood is by far the most difficult journey one can ever take, yet there’s a switch of softness that overtakes Legend’s expression the second your son begins to mumble his disapproval, apparently fed up with all this attention that he’s receiving. 

In an instant, Legend’s there, stealing back the small infant and clumsily doing his best to smooth such sharp cries. Yes, it’s difficult and nerve wracking to become a parent, especially for the first time, but to see all of your efforts throughout the years take form into such a beautiful and amazing being of pure innocence…that’s the most rewarding adventure yet, something Legend’s clearly already beginning to realize himself. 

Sky's been practically bursting at the seams all day - well, all week, to be more accurate - but today is especially special since you’re both expecting a visit from some of his closest friends, the other heroes of courage who haven’t been by Skyloft in far too long.

Seeing as their reunion has been so long overdue, it should be no surprise that your dear husband has been bubbling with eager anticipation all morning (long before the sun had even risen thanks to your shared lack of a proper sleep schedule). While he does genuinely miss his old traveling companions, a majority of his restlessness comes from wanting to share some exciting news about a recent ‘development’ in your lives, one he’s had to hold himself back from spoiling in their routine letters (which are shared far more often than in-person visits).

Before you can even process the knock at your front door, Sky is already darting across the room to answer it, matching the delighted smile worn by all the other boys. He eagerly ushers them inside, his impatience finally spilling over by this point, something he can’t help. As already mentioned, he’s been waiting for this moment for quite a while - and has dreamed about for far longer than a simple ‘while’. 

You can only chuckle at how quickly you’re swarmed by curious eyes, the other heroes not hesitating to stand and kneel around your chair just to catch a glimpse of the tiny bundle you cradle. To say it took them off guard would be the understatement of a century. It completely knocked them off their feet to realize what you're holding and what Sky’s excitement has been all about!

It’s a baby - a tiny newborn with puffy cheeks and itty-bitty hands balled into fists! She doesn’t even look real, or perhaps this whole situation itself just doesn’t feel real. In the Chain’s defense, it’s been years since Sky and you announced your intentions of starting a family of your own. Unfortunately, your struggles in achieving this goal became no secret, and your friends had begun to slowly lose hope with you. They truly worried the day might never come which explains their complete awe now. 

“Her name’s Azure,” You tell them, wiping away the tears that bubble in the corners of your eyes. Curse these hormones! Your daughter is already a few days old yet you still cry each time you see another’s reaction to her. Can you be blamed? It only solidifies the reality that this is, in fact, your baby. Sky and you are officially parents!

“Congratulations, man!” Warrior throws an arm over your husband’s shoulder and pulls him close into a side hug, “You’ve earned it!”

Sky shares his laughter with a shake of his head, his eyes immediately drifting to yours, “My wife deserves most of the credit. She’s the one who endured all those long and tiresome months to get little Azure here.”

“And you took amazing care of us both throughout every second,” You point out just as quickly with a gentle smile, “I couldn’t have asked for a better partner to go through this with.”

“Now we’ll have to start planning some playdates with all our kids. Let ‘em tire each other out,” Twilight points out, giving Sky’s other side a nudge with his elbow.

“Maybe being around Azure will get Hope to stop asking for a sibling for a while,” Hyrule sighs exhaustively. 

“Yeah, no, that has the exact opposite effect. Trust me,” Legend huffs with crossed arms.

Wind’s hand pops out from somewhere in the back of the crowd, only seen as he eagerly tries to jump up and down to gain attention, “Oh-Oh, Tetra and I can babysit if you ever need it!”

“I didn’t think she even liked kids?”

“She ‘likes’ kids, she just doesn’t like being ‘around’ them,” Wind rolls his eyes at Legend’s comment as if the reason isn’t obvious, “But she said she’s been wanting to get better with them to practice the whole ‘being a nice princess’ thing -”

“- All of that can come later,” Time swiftly interrupts the wandering conversation, “I’m sure as new parents, these two would appreciate rest above all else for now. There’ll be plenty of time for playdates later down the line.”

“We’ll definitely set some up once Azure is old enough,” Sky chuckles in agreement before kneeling by your side to help fix the blanket around your sleeping daughter. Although there’s quite a bit of time until then, the idea of finally being able to participate in such arrangements is exciting to you both. No more standing on the sidelines feeling out of place with your hearts’ yearning. You’ll finally be able to share the joy all of your friends feel.

“You both look like happy parents. Congratulations,” You preen at Time’s compliment, looking to each other through tears in your eyes which then drop to Azure who snuggles closer to you, blissfully unaware of the effect she already has on your hearts as she merely enjoys the comfort of your loving embrace. Your most special treasure, indeed…

[saturnicos]

. . ⟩ 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗒

› paring: ororon x gn!reader

› cw/tw: just holding hands

› notes: just something silly i wanted to write but it got sm long and bad in the end D: + no proofread

Sunny days were predominant in Natlan even in the densest parts of the forests, mostly representing a subtropical climate in the region. Despite the heat that scorched the entire region during the day, the early evenings were cool with the light cold breezes that passed through, making it a good time for calmer outdoor activities.

Underneath a large and firm tree, you and Ororon rested against it while talking peacefully; the topics ranged from how his garden was going to how his activities in the tribe were going. Despite being frequent moments — since visiting Ororon every evening became something intrinsic to his routine — they all seemed new in the same way, regardless of what.

Ororon felt the same way despite his fears about the condition of his own soul; he would often apologize for any minor misfortune you had during the day in the tribe or in the moments of talking with him, and then all those times you would reassure him that he didn't need to apologize for things that can happen sometimes.

You enjoy his company, so you wouldn't mind even if these misfortunes could be coming from him.

— ...and then granny fell asleep on the table, still holding the glass of drink tightly! I couldn't get out of her grip. — releasing a sigh with false frustration that was soon followed by a laugh, you finished telling a story that had happened to the matriarch in a casual moment to the young bat beside you, who laughed without hesitation.

— Yes, that's just like her... That sounded rude, in fact it seems like something she would casually do. — he replied in return, scratching one of his eyes and adjusting his posture against the large tree, having a weak and low laugh that was still audible. You just smiled.

A moment of silence filled the air; not unpleasant or uncomfortable, but rather a comforting silence that seemed to fill a void. Looking at the sky, you noticed a curious pattern that was formed not far away: stars so close and aligned that they formed the shape of a bat, and right next to it there was a cluster that seemed to form your own symbol.

— Look! — you pointed towards the constellations, looking with fascination at their formation so well positioned on the horizon; both shone beautifully in the sky, now seeming to outshine the other stars around them.

Ororon soon moved slightly to your side, looking clearly in the direction you were pointing and letting a happy smile form in an instant. — Hey, what a great coincidence! I remember that granny knew some legends about constellations.

— One of the things they taught me was about their movement and how rare it is! If you are lucky enough to see two constellations very close to each other, it means that the respective people will also forever be very... — you chattered while remembering one of the myths that were common in your family and often used in astrological superstition overall, remembering how it was recited. However, as you got closer to the end, you assimilated the mythology behind the constellation and how it paralleled the moment between you and Ororon, leaving your voice suddenly broken and low. — ... close.

Feeling reality finally fall on your shoulders, your eyes widened slightly in surprise and a wave of nervousness flooded your mind, unconsciously bringing the feeling of your face heating up and fixing your gaze on Ororon. You wanted to deflect, you really did.

Ororon didn't look that different. Under the reflected light of the moon, his face seemed to take on a reddish hue as his gaze periodically shifted to different spots in the landscape, but he still seemed to have a calm countenance adorning his face.

— W-well, it's just an old and traditional myth, the movement of the stars has nothing to do with it. — you quickly tried to cut the subject short, moving away just a little when you felt the closeness between you two. You normally didn't feel this nervous, but the topic seemed to be enough at this moment.

Ororon, on the other hand, despite his slight blush, seemed calmer than you as he rested his arm on top of his bent knee, seeming to search for something in the back of his mind to say while still contemplating the sky.

— I... I hope so, it would be something cool. — with hesitation, these few words came out of Ororon's mouth as if they were trapped, tied by a knot, and finally managed to free themselves. You could see the young bat's gaze falter for a moment before he lowered his hood over his head, muttering something that sounded like "sorry."

You let out a low, nervous laugh despite the awkwardness that hovered in the room, hesitantly rubbing a hand on Ororon's back as a way of showing comfort even though you still felt nervous.

— No, it's okay! I... I think I would too. It would be cool. — you said almost in a whisper to nothing, being too nervous and embarrassed to give yourself the luxury of saying them with confidence, contenting yourself with just repeating what Ororon had said.

In turn, Ororon found the courage to turn his face just a little to the side despite keeping his hood pulled, meeting his nervous gaze that tried — emphasis on tried — to convey some kind of calm and tranquility.

Even with shame and hesitation being feelings heavily present in the environment, almost as if it were something physical suffocating you, Ororon allowed himself to lift his head in one act, gently holding your hand, which was previously rubbing his back, and intertwining your fingers with his, as if he was trying to convey the same feeling of comfort that you felt.

You didn't say anything, but you were sure that words weren't necessary at that moment, contenting yourself with squeeze his hand and relaxing against the tree again next to him, humming a subtle song while you could see a smile present on Ororon's face.

[kindestofkings]

what came first, the chicken or the dickhead?

[smau]

f1driver!reader x lando norris (eventually, friends to lovers ofc)

authors note: this is so dramatic and for what! sorry to pierre for making you the villian, and lets pretend ferrari isnt as shit as it currently is! lol enjoy, would love to know what you think <333

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo and others

yourusername tough day in the office today, mexico '22 is just not to be I guess. As always a learning curve and we will grow from todays DNF 😞

See you soon Brazil !!

view all 500 comments

ynfan1 we are still so proud of you! keep pushing 👍

f1fan this is literally what you get for trying to compete in a MALE sport

f1fan2 fr she's bringing down pierre and the team f1fan3 too emotional for the big leagues ynfan2 stfu you do realise your favourite MALE drivers dnf all the time aswell

alphataurif1 we come back stronger!!

yourusername 👊👊

alex_albon lily is wondering would going for ice cream cheer you up?

yourusername I love her, yes please 🥹 landonorris I'm coming yourusername nuh huh its for us pointless drivers! landonorris come on it was only 2..

f1fan4 lando norizz trying to make it a double date lollll

f1fan5 bro chill these two have been friends since literal birth

alphataurif1

liked by yourusername and others

alphataurif1 the difference 2 weeks can make! our girl yourusername is starting pole position on sunday here in brazil 🔥

view all 150 comments

yourusername woohoo roll on sunday!!

ynfan1 go bestie go !

ynfan2 AT moving up💪

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others 

yourusername great work achieved today, the car and track felt good. hopefully we can convert this position into some points to finish of the season on a high, all we need is team work on the track (and for max's alarm to not go off so he misses the race 😀)

view all 290 comments 

maxverstappen1 why the personal attack

yourusername WHY do you have to win every week, surely you are bored by it by now ... charles_leclerc I agree, maybe take a week off? f1fan2 hahah these two i'm obsessed

landonorris please do well but not TOO well, just stay behind me 👍

yourusername and look at your ass all race? hard pass

ynfan1 that mention of teamwork is a lil suss...

ynfan2 not really?? it is a team sport ynfan1 yeah but do you not find it weird how unfriendly yourusername and pierregasly are, despite them being on the same team? f1fan tbf I have always noticed how forced their videos are together. and they dont even follow each other

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others 

yourusername lollll ruining my career one interview at a time, but at least we hit the clubs looking fire 🔥

p.s. I stand by what I've said I only have apologies for two people 1) my pr manager (who I dont pay enough for this) and 2) charles for linking your name to this hot mess!

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landonorris it's so great being the unproblematic one 😎

yourusername does mcclaren need another golden driver from bristol??? I fear im out of a seat soon .. ynfan1 this is so sad you are way to talented of a driver to be out of a suit

charles_leclerc No worries 😅 Just make sure you buy me dinner next time before dragging me into the chaos. 🍽️🤷‍♂️

yourusername you got it prince of monaco! f1fan2 PLEASE PLEASE DATE ynfan2 ewww no her and lando are so so in love they're just too blind and stupid

danielricciardo absolute legend behaviour mate!!

yourusername learning from the best danny ric 😎

alphataurif1 and yourusername

Liked by landonorris and others

alphataurif1 From grid battles to glory laps! 🏁✨ Our unstoppable driver just clinched her FIRST WIN at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix! 🏆 Watch out, world – she's rewriting the history books and leaving her mark on the track. 🚀🌟

#AlphaQueen #AbuDhabiWinner

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danielricciardo What a race! Big congrats, yourusername. That first win feeling is something else! Enjoy every moment!

alex_albon: absolutely smashed it! huge congratulations on your first win!

carlossainz55 felicidades!!

susie_wolff: breaking barriers and making history! huge congratulations on your first win!

yourusername AHHHHH I CANT BELIEVE IT ! I LOVE YOU TEAM !!

ynfan1 lando where is your congrats you are slippinnn!!

landonorris

Liked by yourusername and others

landonorris I've never been this happy to lose, but it's pretty cool seeing your best friend win in her rookie year. EVEN if she beaten me to it 😞

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yourusername LANDOOOO you are a the bestest friend ever

yourusername would not have gotten here with out you, my partner in crime <3

ynfan1 best friend?? y'all are still so blind

f1fan everytime you call her your best friend you reaffirm the lando NORIZZ name

danielricciardo facts alex_albon facts carlossainz55 facts charles_leclerc facts yukitsunoda0511 facts maxverstappen1 facts landonorris CAN YOU SHUT UP

scuderiaferrari

liked by landonorris and others

scuderiaferrari oh we thought we should just let you know our driver line up for 2023 👀 say hello to the dynamic addition to the Ferrari family, the wonderfully feisty yourusername! get ready for a season full of speed, passion, and fierce competition. Welcome to Maranello! 🇮🇹

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ynfan1 HOLY F*CK

susie_wolff wow congrats yourusername!! wishing you all the best !

yourusername thank you so much susie! your advice the last few weeks has help me so much ! ynfan1 I love when girls support girls 💓

yourusername can't wait to get started! forza ferrari ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc this is going to be incredible! congrats !!

yourusername thank you charles <33 be prepared to be sick of me lol ynfan1 so happy shes got a teammate who acc is a decent guy

ynfan2 LOLLLL I bet pierre is sick

landonorris slayed 💅

yourusername 😂😂 f1fan watch out mr norizz her new teammate is mr steal-your-girl

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Feral Twilight—it's just his instincts, okay?

ּ ֶָ֢. It wasn't until after his adventure that he began to lose his sanity. The loss was gradual. No one noticed until it was too late. After all, no being from the light world should ever cross into the Twili realm.

It has this habit of sentience. Twilight could always feel himself being watched. It wasn't just Midna or any of Zant's minions. It was this territorial force that was angered anytime someone from above came into its land.

Even after defeating Ganondorf, the essence of that anger still lingered. It was calmer but seemed more possessive. It began to want to possess a part of Twilight: his mind.

So after the mirror was shattered, that was a part of him he was never going to get back.

That's where you came in. Just an adventurer from another timeline.

ּ ֶָ֢. He meets you, and it's an instant attachment. Something about you appeases the broken, primal part of him. Wolfie needed to come out and play. All he wants to do is stay near you and listen. Even without his tail on him, you can practically hear the elated wagging of it.

That sealed your fate.

ּ ֶָ֢. He travels with you all throughout different versions of Hyrule. He helps you collect various weapons and treasures. He surprises you with gifts. He is just absolutely addicted to your face lighting up. He is able to smell the happy hormones wafting off of you.

That line within his mind between proper and animalistic grows thinner every day that you travel with him.

ּ ֶָ֢. When stumbling upon the other Links, he is immediately agitated. He is not willing to share your attention or love with any other version of himself. He's standoffish with the others when it comes to matters that concern you. He's quick to become riled up and then dismissive. Some of the others, especially Wind and Legend, enjoy teasing him about his 'little' crush on you.

In the earliest stages of meeting other Links, no one realizes how twisted Twilight's obsession is. He doesn't realize it either. It's just this nagging sensation in the back of his head that tells him he needs to keep you around. It's a variation of the same sensation he felt in the Twili realm.

ּ ֶָ֢. As the months go by, Time recognizes that there is something unhealthy about Twilight's relationship with you. Twilight refuses to leave you alone with another Link. The farmer always rooms with you. Twilight is the only one that helps you take care of chores. No one else is allowed to.

You end up with bruises that he suspects are from Twilight. You brush the worries off as Twilight just being playful. You assure Time that it is nothing serious. Time is still incredibly concerned.

"If Twilight does anything you don't consent to, tell me. Understand?"

Time is a safe place for you. Twilight sees that as a threat.

ּ ֶָ֢. In the dead of night, he ushers you away from The Chain. He tells you that there is something he must show you. You trust him, obviously. You follow him, and suddenly you are pinned under him. It's the first time you feel fear being around him. Your fear because of him is arousing. He doesn't do anything violent. He simply wraps his arms around you and nuzzles into your body.

"Twilight. Twilight?"

He didn't respond. He would simply have a pleased growl escape his throat.

ּ ֶָ֢. The night turned into the day, and suddenly you weren't anywhere near the other Links. You were in the forest with Twilight, and now you're back at his farm. He kept you there. He only allowed you into the village. You are not allowed to go farther than that. 

He marks you up and is barely able to form words. He nestles into you any time either of you has nothing to do.

It's strange and a bit unconventional at times. You have thought about running away. You have spent your entire life adventuring, and suddenly you were kidnapped by your closest traveling companion.

You are too afraid to try to escape. You are convinced that Twilight would be able to find you anywhere in the multitude of lines that thread together the intricacies of time.

ּ ֶָ֢. That line no longer exists in his mind. He will always keep you with him. His tongue may not work, but his desires do. He listens to your protests and never crosses that line, even if he has to take care of himself in the privacy of the back of the barn.

You didn't need to know what he did for you. You only know that the rest of The Chain won't be coming to save you.

[minas-linkverse]

about the dynamics thingy, ( sorry if this is late ) botw Zelda and link maybe? Or twi and legend? Have an nice dayyy

Ohohoo you've chosen to ask about the duo with some of the most stuff to talk about. >:]

Zelda and (botw) Link's relationship in this au is undeniably positive, but also very complicated. The best way for me to explain it is to explain the big events in their shared past that shaped that relationship!

Pre-Calamity

Zelda, faced with a heavy destiny she did not want and feared she'd never be able to fulfill... Was understandably in an emotionally turbulent state. When she first met Link --a boy who seemed to lack opinions of his own and seemed to fulfill his role perfectly-- she hated him. However she felt immensely guilty of that, and after an outburst apologized and tried to explain herself to Link. After all, Link was very much in the same boat as her, maybe... Maybe he could actually get it.

He unfortunately had to disappoint her...

The war

Despite their inability to form an emotionally connection through words, they did end up becoming close due to the horrors they witnessed together. They couldn't talk about how they felt but they kept each other safe.

When Zelda lost Link and awakened to her destiny, it wasn't as much due to the pain of losing a friend, but losing the last person she had. The last hope the kingdom had.

100 years later

When Zelda called out to Link in the Shrine of Resurrection, she was speaking out to a legendary hero who was destined to slay Calamity ganon.

The person who heard her however, was a memory-less boy who realized he has epic sword skills and can do back-flips. Hearing of his destiny, he decided to immediately go the very opposite direction and instead have fun. They had the wrong guy! This "Link" guy may have owned this body before but he now didn't know or care about these strangers.

Yet during his journey across Hyrule... He fell in love with it. The first few memories he tried to ignore, but as they kept coming he came to realize two things:

The Link the world had known 100 years ago was not happy. He was simply the ideal soldier, someone with no opinions of his own.

The Princess had deserved better than who he'd been. Now that Link had grown to love the world and tried to reject a destiny forced upon him, the feelings she shared with him suddenly made sense-- And thinking back to his lack of response broke his heart.

He wasn't going to run away from what needed to be done anymore. Link seeked out his destiny and slayed Calamity Ganon. For the world he loved, and... For the Princess who he wanted nothing more than to apologize to.

Post Game

Before being yoinked into the comic, Zelda and Link have been reconnecting while getting started with rebuilding Hyrule-- Not as a kingdom, but a home. It was certainly awkward at first. In Zelda's eyes this boy wore the face of someone she knew, but acted entirely different... And on top of that, this stranger knew her like they'd known one another for ages.

Despite the horrors in their memories that will never fade, and the endless guilt as the only few who made it out... They found a new kind of happiness neither had felt before.

To me their relationship in the comic is probably the best described as queerplatonic. It's not even a question of if they'll be together for the rest of their lives, its a promise they've already made without a single word.

Being taken on a whole new adventure without her has been jarring to Link, but! Zelda has good people around her. The two are not dependent on one another. Hopefully the time travel nonsense will get him back home for a quick hi sometime soon, but at least he'll have a lot of interesting things to tell her...

They're a team! To the very end!

Disclaimer: If the comic contradicts whats written here in the future, the comic's canon is the one you should prioritize!

[threatening-illusions]

Inmate Trick Starr gets pounded and shown her place by Officer Friendly! (FULL VIDEO)

Aka the Pornstar au 18+ MDNI

Warnings: smut, oral ( female and male receiving), pussy slapping, degradation, dick slapping(?), fingering, squirting, PinV, choking, throat fucking, facial, mention of anal, also a disclaimer I'm very aware of how toxic and horrible true conditions are for the reality of porn and its production, this was written in a drunken haze while I was ovulating though so... please forgive me

The set up is overly corny. The costumes are ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as the man that struts in once the cameras start rolling. That stupid ass outfit, and the stupid ass hat. The man's slightly bearded face and striking good looks fit the overall look they had him going for.

Tulip felt just as ridiculous though. An uncomfortably tight orange top that held her tightly. She was 'locked' in a cell and carefully posed. Tulip was lying on her stomach, her ass sticking out intentionally as the man came strutting right up to the door of her 'cell'.

The keys jingle obnoxiously loud as the door creaks open.

The dialogue is stale but Tulips eyes are blank and glassy the entire time. She isn't really paying attention until this officer is yanking her to her feet and standing behind her. Once he had his chest pressed against her back did she finally clock back in mentally.

He was taller than she thought and that stupid hat gives the illusion of further height. He's broad and strong and she can feel it under his shirt.

His hands had planted on her hips and squeezed her as he pulled her fully against him. His cock already hard and grinding against her ass. But his hands snake upwards right to the neckline of the dumbass shirt she's wearing and the man tears it clean in half.

Tulip had long gotten over the fear of having her tits out on camera. But the gasp that left her was all too real. A deep and gruff voice gets her to finally focus.

"You're gonna do what I tell you." His voice rumbled behind her. Large hands engulfed over her chest. He grabbed a full tit in one hand and moved to grab the other. "You listenin' now?" He asked her

She managed to nod. Her head now pressed against the man's shoulder as she struggled to look up at him. "Yes sir" She replied eagerly.

There hadn't been much to go over since it started. Tulips costar, the absolute 'legend' he was had shown up ridiculously late to the shoot. She'd had her makeup done before he even got there. Usually she'd take to spending some time with whoever she'd be working with if she hadn't met them properly at least once already.

But this man, the one that stood behind her and was pinching her nipples till she was squirming back into him and letting out gasps that weren't for show? The one that was running the tip of his nose down the slope of her neck and shoulder? She didn't even know his goddamn name. Officer Friendly was a stage name she knew good and well. Who didn't? Who this man was outside of that? She didn't know.

The first time she'd seen this man in person was when he'd walked in with that hat drawn low and those jingling keys.

And now he was whispering in her ear, just low enough that the cameras couldn't pick it up.

Rick chuckled slightly. "It cool if I try out that talent of yours?" He asked. The way he carried himself was egotistical. The man had a cock that broke people. That had peoples eyes crossing and girls nearly puking on it trying to stuff it down their throats.

But Tulip had many talents. She wasn't sure which one he was referring to but she was ready for any of anything. They hadn't gone over much before the filming started. Tulip herself was a very spontaneous actress, she'd go off script and give the performance of a lifetime. She'd heard that Officer Friendly was the same. She knew of this guy, she knew the kind of videos he made. She'd been more than willing to star, but she at least figured they'd have spoken directly before the camera started. All she'd been told from her agent and his was to be ready for anything. She'd been dripping since before he got there.

This man would have had her pissed off if he wasn't so pretty. His voice might have been getting her off better than his actions so far. She was judging him based on the way he manhandled her and began pulling those ridiculously tight shorts down her thighs. She was left bare before him in seconds. Tulip was finding it difficult to actually look at him without feeling slightly embarrassed.

Rick was personally having a great time. This pretty little thing seemed like she was cock drunk off him already and he hadn't even taken off a single piece of clothing yet. His hand reached to his belt and he pulled out the handcuffs he'd had stashed on them.

Tulip was already picking up her breathing as the man removed his hands from her body and pulled away. He trailed a hand down the side of one of her arms before yanking it behind her back like he was arresting her. One of his hands stretched to hold both of her wrists still behind her back.

Her feet moved against the concrete. Officer Friendly was shoving her forward and pushing her up against the bars of the cell. He slapped the cuff onto her one hand and he manually clicked the second cuff around her wrist.

It wasn't long before Rick had her turned around and his tongue buried in her cunt.

He left the woman barely able to stand as he abused her sex. He had three fingers stuffed inside her and hammering their way into her most sensitive of areas. He'd been at this for minutes and finally he was seeing the results slowly show their head. Rick would give her credit for one thing, damn this bitch had a set of lungs on her. She was vocal, and if he was being completely honest with himself, he was really liking it.

A lot of women he worked with had a rather high pitched and over dramatic soundtrack. The way her voice was slightly lowered and was nearly giving out was making his pants strain. It was music to his goddamn ears.

He was underneath her, kneeling on the floor with his legs spread wide to fit his larger frame under her. He'd was looking like picture perfect devotion while he was getting up close and personal with her pussy. He knelt there fully clothed and dishing out the best head she'd ever had. His lips suctioned around her clit and Tulip would have sworn she saw stars. She was so close to cumming, like actually cumming, not a fake one or an over exaggeration, her cuffed hands held onto the metal bar behind her to try and ground herself.

"Oh fuck-" she swore loudly. She could barely remember whatever stupid lines she was supposed to regurgitate to the camera and the men behind them. To the people and agents and set people all behind the lights that she couldn't see and couldn't give a fuck about. "I'm sorry sir!" She choked out between moans.

The man pulled away from her cunt. The lower half of his face and parts of his beard glistening in the light with her slick, he looked downright filthy. Rick was shocked by how well she had been responding to his touch. The whore was fucking dripping for him, he couldn't remember the last he'd had a girl this fucking wet from just his mouth and his fingers.

Tulip could barely hear whatever line he was feeding her. She was beginning to think the man cuffed her for his own safety. If she could move her hands she'd of been grabbing him by those perfect curls and shoving his head back between her thighs.

"You like taking things, right?" He asked her. Officer Friendly looked up at her, his fingers still attacking her g-spot with vigor enthusiasm. "Take this." He told her.

"Please sir-" Tulip repeated. She was gasping now, feeling the knot in her stomach tightening further every second he continued and pressed on. "I'm gonna cum! Fuck!" She cried out.

The feeling was getting to be too much. She could barely handle it.

"That's right" the man beneath her said. A dark chuckle left him as he sucked at her clit once again. He could feel her tightening around his fingers, tensing and squeezing him like she was trying to force him out. "Take it. Cmon Take it." He growled as he pulled his lips off of her cunt once again. "I'm taking this from you. So just let me." He told her.

And just like that, Tulips thighs were shaking. She felt weightless as her muscles seized and nearly gave out. Her knees nearly buckled and she was thankful for the man beneath her who'd been holding one of her thighs to keep her steady. What she hadn't expected to happen or even realized that it had truly happened until it was over, was that she'd made a fucking mess. Tulip looked down to her officer and saw the wet patch that followed down along his shirt. She rendered herself speechless.

Tulip was certain that if she wasn't wearing so much concealer her face would have been bright red. That was the talent he'd been talking about it seemed. He'd managed to actually make her squirt. On camera. She hadn't actually been able to do that in years.

"Now look at whatcha've done" the man said lowly, finally raising himself to his feet. He stood in front of her and started to unbutton his shirt. "Can't have nothin' nice when you're around." He told her. His shirt was officially off and his hands were undoing his belt and drawing the zipper of his pants down.

The cuffs had been long discarded.

Tulip had been admiring the grace of the man as he moved to stand over the end of the bed. He'd just thrown her onto it.

He'd left her with her head hanging off the end. It took him seconds to show her exactly why.

She was looking at him upside down, looking up at him as he held that monster of a cock just inches from her face. His fist wrapped around it, jerking himself off for a brief moment as he looked down at her.

Rick had been positioned above her. She was just lying there, naked except for the layers of ink on her skin and his hand around her throat. He squeezed lightly, the pressure he inflicted was a bold choice.

He'd seen her take a puff off an inhaler during their brief break. Rick had seen her take a puff, a sip of water, and get herself cleaned up right before they jumped back into it.

And now, he held his dick in one hand and was tapping it against the side of her face. It was his way of kindly telling her to open her mouth. Tulip had been too busy swallowing the saliva that was gathering in her throat.

What she hadn't expected was for him to drop his cock and cradle the side of her head. It was rather sweet. That was until Tulip saw his hand straightening up.

Oh this guy was fucking good. She was lucky she didn't have enough time to smile.

The slap that rocked her had her nearly delirious. Her head went to go spinning the other direction but his hand still cradled the side, protecting her from any real damage and to make sure she didn't bite her own damn tongue off. Her mouth hung open as she regrouped.

He used that timing to unceremoniously ram his cock down her throat. She gagged almost immediately. Officer Friendly started out a quick rhythm after that, letting her get used to the onslaught intrusion.

As soon as he deemed it long enough for a professional of her caliber to be adjusted he let his hands plant itself on her throat. He squeezed a little tighter and let out a deep groan. The thin layers of skin being the only thing stopping him from feeling his own dick through her throat.

She sputtered and coughed beneath him. He was effectively choking her with his cock. Rick moved his hips, rocking them forward even further. He was balls deep as he fucked the throat of the woman lying with her head off the bed.

Large amalgamations of spit and slobber gathered around her lips and his cock. He listened to her choke and struggle. His hands grabbed her struggling wrists and pinned them down.

He groaned heavily as he pulled his hips back, coating half of the woman's face in her own spit. Rick didn't even think about it, he didn't even care. Because instantly he was grabbing ahold of his cock and lining it right back up to her mouth.

"Open." He said sternly. He snickered looking at the panting woman beneath him. "You deaf or sumn?" He asked holding onto his cock in his hand. Rick stroked himself a few times before holding himself at his base and slapping her cheek with the weight of his slobber covered cock once again. He had leaned back to get a proper look at her face. The whistle he let out was slow and condescending.

He smeared her drool over the sides of her face. The sound of his cock slapping the skin of her face echoed. He repeated it again. Her cheek was red and glistened in the light.

"I said open that fucking mouth." He ordered loudly. His voice carried louder than he meant. But he was enjoying himself and this woman was just letting him do whatever he wanted once those cameras started rolling.

Rick was met with an eagerly open mouth. He went right back to fucking her mouth as though it was her cunt. He pistoned his hips, forcing his cock past the barrier of her throat. His own groans were picking up some volume as he leaned over her body.

Her legs were still spread as Rick held one of her hands down still, he used his free hand to see just how soaking wet she was. There was a camera to pick that up too. Her cunt was so wet that she was leaking down her thighs and onto the bed beneath her.

Rick chuckled darkly as he raised his hand and brought it down over her cunt. The initial smack was surprisingly loud. His middle and ring finger were dipping inside her entrance as he pulled his hand away. She tried to whine around his cock but it proved fruitless. Tulip had expected him to just shove those fingers inside her, she hadn't expected the next slap to her clit to come down so hard again. Rick felt every reaction she had to it. Every time she tried to gasp or moan, he had to be doing something right. Besides, some good old fashion pussy smacking wouldn't do the slut any harm would it? He certainly didn't think so.

Rick was enjoying just how easy it was to throw this girl around the room.

His hand tightened around her hair. Her head only moved where he put her, Rick had no problem throwing her around like this. His free hand nestled its way between her closed thighs. He made sure to speak loudly and clearly. Rick needed to make sure their audience could hear just as well as she could.

"Open your fucking legs or it’s going in your ass" he growled lowly. Rick wasn't waiting to sink his dick in that cunt any longer.

The words were a true warning. Tulip knew the man wasn't joking. She's known since he smacked her that this wasn't a man who played around. He was honest when he told her that.

Her legs spread and his fingers traced up the length of her slit. A string of her slick collected as he went to pull his hands away. He let out a rather haughty laugh unintentionally. It was fucking pathetic and he was loving every second of it.

Rick pulled his head back slightly, letting one of the cameramen get a nice clean shot of the string attached to this fingers. He was looking over to the face of the woman gasping and crying for him. Her face was a mess, she'd begun tearing up ages ago and her mascara had started to run. Not to mention the dried spit on the sides of her face and the sweat gathering on her brow. Rick found himself actually starting to feel impatient.

Could they finally get to the good stuff?

As the cameramen backed away, Rick resumed his work. He took those spread thighs into each of his palms and got himself situated between them. He aligned his tip right up to her entrance, smearing all the slick that was still pooling out of her cunt.

"You're fucking leakin' there" he told her as if she didn't know. Rick found himself smirking as he pulled his dick away from her heat.

Instead he placed it flat over her stomach. Aligning it right in the middle between the star tattoos on her sides. There was something about it that was making him even more eager. It felt like a framed moment in time as he rested his cock just to curb his own curiosity. So that was how far he was going to be rearranging her guts.

He looked down at her, listening to the whine she let out as she managed to pick up her tired head to look at where he was measuring himself.

"Don't worry, I'll give you somethin' to leak about." Rick's voice drawled as he moved his hips back. His cock was lined back up right outside the lips of her sex. His tip catching on her sex until finally he pushed himself inside.

She was wet and stretched out plenty. The thought of needing any prep was a fever dream and completely not needed. Rick was groaning and pushing himself in deeper in seconds, he lifted one of her thighs up, bringing one of her legs against his chest and using it to angle himself.

Rick set to work quickly, his cock violating the cunt of the woman under him. Jesus this was good, for a split second he almost forgot he was working. Is it really working though when you love your job? When your paycheck comes from staring down at a woman like this while she drained his dick dry?

His hips moved on their own accord. One of Rick's hand wrapped around her thigh and held it there, fingers digging into plush skin. His other hand was grabbing at her waist. He just kept hammering into her and listening to her pants and whines, to the swears that poured out of her mouth. After the first few minutes he actually saw her crying. She was begging him for more while tears poured from her eyes.

It was when Rick tore his gaze from her face to look down at where his dick was battering did he see it. Rick saw it just then. He could see the way his cock pressed up inside her. When he looked down at her stomach he could see his cock knocking around and knocking her up. He twitched and truthfully, he didn't take his eyes off the sight of that bulge until till he was about to cum.

He'd pulled out of her abruptly, quickly making his way around the bed, till he was standing over her face. The cameras followed him. Rick wrapped his hand around his cock and began to jack himself off to his finish.

The wet squelching sound was filthy as he picked up the pace. He looked at the mess she was already, tear tracts and all Rick was nearly gasping. Pants left him quickly as he finally released.

His free hand, the one that wasn't wrapped around his cock forcefully reached out and grabbed Tulip by her jaw. His fingers dug into her cheeks, forcing her mouth open as the first spray of his cum fell over her face. He hadn't really been aiming for her mouth anyway, but hey, what the hell?

Tulip stood in her small dressing room. She stood in nothing but a robe as she finished packing up her makeup bag. She paced around the room, taking laps as she tried to get her mind right.

The room had a hairdryer of its own, something she was pretty thankful for all things considered. She'd found it buried in one of the drawers and she was more than happy to not have to air dry her hair after her shower.

She fucking hated when guys came on her face. It was messy, it smelled, it got everywhere and no matter how much she scrubbed her face it felt like it never came off.

Except this time? Even after her shower Tulip felt absolutely insatiable. She was trying to calm herself down. Tell herself that it was just hormones and left over drive from earlier.

It wasn't.

She needed more. She wanted more.

Tulip threw her makeup bag into her larger duffle and turned back to the large mirror. She looked over herself, bare faced with damp hair and finally feeling like herself. Just as she picked up the hair dryer there was a knock at her door.

With a rather tired sigh she went to open the door. Her hand wrapped around the handle. What could they possibly want? Couldn't a girl get a few minutes alone? She assumed it was her management coming to check on her. It was the least he could do after the fiasco of how this shoot started. Truth be told, Tulip might have owed him an apology after the way she spoke to him earlier. She'd been quite upset about the circumstances.

She flung the door open.

"Negan, I'm not dressed what do you-" Tulip picked up her head and felt her voice die out. She was certain her heart was about to explode from shock and general disbelief.

Officer Friendly stood in the doorway he wore an identical robe to hers. Although he was wearing lounge pants under his. Not that Tulip had noticed of course she was too busy looking up at him and actually taking in those bright blue eyes.

She swallowed harshly. The seconds she looked at him felt like embarrassingly long hours. His hair was still damp and wet, his curls poking through towards the back of his head and curling up behind his ears.

"This a bad time or somethin'?" The man asked. He looked down at her. Those big grey eyes weren't blown wide by lust anymore. No, those iris' just shook and wavered as she stared up at him.

Tulip shifted on her feet awkwardly. She grabbed the ends of each side of her robe and pulled them tighter. She was embarrassed and she was shy. It was stupid, she knew it was. How can you be shy around a guy that just ate you out? Who fucked you raw and came all over your face? They should have been beyond the point of that now.

"Not the worst time I guess." Tulip muttered as she opened her door further. "Wanna come in?" She offered awkwardly. She hadn't a clue what was happening or what was going on.

The man stepped in without hesitation. He breached the barrier between them and moved to stand beside the counter. He looked at her in the bright lights of the room.

"I wanted to apologize for my tardiness earlier." The man confessed. "I usually try and get to set a few hours early... make time to meet everyone and make it comfortable" he said awkwardly. He didn't meet her eyes.

He felt so silly being scared to look at her. He mentally scolded himself. She's half your age Rick, why do you care? You smacked her with your cock an hour, grow up. She literally squirted all over you, I'm sure she already forgave you.

"I just wanted to smooth things over, give a formal apology. I promise I don't usually do that." He told her. The man licked over his teeth and held out his hand. He watched as long black acrylic nails reached out and grabbed his hand in a loose shake. "Names Rick." He told her smoothly.

Tulip nodded and smiled. That was a fitting name, it made sense. "Names Tulip" she replied. Looking back at him he was smiling at her fondly.

The man chuckled. "That's cute." He managed to tell her.

Tulip blinked back her surprise as she listened to him speak. "Wow." She whispered quietly. He could still hear her of course. She stumbled over her words. "I'm sorry I thought the accent was just... you know a thing you did for the camera" she said sending him an awkward smile.

Rick looked at her with an eyebrow cocked in question. His smile was broad, he was certainly entertained by her attitude. "No" he chuckled. "It's not, sorry to disappoint" Rick told her with a snicker.

"I appreciate you coming over here." Tulip finally told him. Her smile stretching slightly. As Tulip looked at him she swallowed. Her throat was killing her. "I was pretty upset about it so I appreciate this." She told him.

"Tell you what." The man suggested as he clapped his hands together. "Are you free tonight? How's about I take you out. On me?" He suggested.

Tulip blinked back her surprise.

"I feel bad. Let me make it up to you" he offered. Rick was standing in her room now, shirtless with his robe open and lounge pants.

He stood there like he wasn't doing things to her. Tulip had to steady her breathing. She made the conscious effort to try and push the memories of that monster cock between his legs out of her mind, she had no idea how he did it .

"Yeah sure... just let me get dressed." Tulip told him walking back towards her clothing bag.

Rick's eyes lingered on the small bit of cleavage that could be seen through the slip in her robe.

"Sounds perfect" he mumbled

It felt SO wrong gatekeeping this one. I can't begin to tell you just how much alcohol was in my system when I wrote this.

[isa-beenme]

Whispers of Secrets and Starlight

Badum tss

Plss talk to me guys 😭😭 I love reading and answering comments, it's literally the joy of publishing here 🫶🏻

Also, I don't know why but there are people I can't tag (someone help 😭😭

Warnings: Use of Y/N, ACOTAR rewrite, female main character, Tamlin is getting worse, not 100% book following, a bigger level of degradation (not on the good side), Amarantha still alive 🤢, a tiny little bit of gore (the wyrm yk?), Rhysand 🔥

Whispers of Secrets and Starlight - Masterlist

Chapter 5: To Ashes and Blood

Amarantha leaned lazily against her throne, a smile that made your stomach turn curving her blood-red lips. The crowd around her murmured, the scent of sweat and fear thick in the air.

You stood shoulder to shoulder with Feyre, shackles releasing the grip in your wrists, your heart a steady drum in your chest. You could feel him nearby. Rhysand was still lounging at Amarantha’s side like he couldn’t care less about any of this, but now he was way more free, further away from here. His violet eyes flicked to you once—just once—before returning to the show. A silent reminder. He was watching.

Amarantha tapped a long, curved nail against her throne. "Before we begin..." Her voice slithered through the room, echoing off the stone walls. "There is one little detail to attend to." She smiled—all teeth and venom. "The riddle. I will say it once, and later you can ask anyone to repeat it, if you want. I heard once that the more you repeat it makes less sense, so feel free to do it.” The Attor laughed at the side of the room, as amused as her. “Ready?”

"I can bind two souls or shatter them apart

I am a weapon, a blessing, a cage for the heart

I bloom in silence, yet scream when denied

What am I, when truth cannot hide?”

Feyre's breath caught beside you. Of course. The riddle. The cursed loophole that could end this nightmare without a drop of blood spilled. You knew the answer. You knew the moment she'd spoken it. But Amarantha's eyes flicked to you—like she could see right inside your head.

"I see that little brain of yours turning, human." Her smile widened. "But I'm afraid you'll have to bite your tongue."

Your shackles clinked as your fists curled.

"One rule," Amarantha purred, rising slowly from her throne. "Feyre is the only one who will answer the riddle."

Feyre flinched at the sound of her own name.

"And you"—Amarantha's gaze sliced back to you—"will have to be the one to strike the final blow in each trial."

The breath caught in your throat. "What?" Feyre whispered.

Amarantha grinned like a cat playing with its prey. "Did you really think I'd let you both come here with... the same odds?" Her eyes glittered. "One of you will need to be the brains, the other... will need luck."

The shackles around your wrists felt heavier.

"If Feyre solves the riddle before the final trial, you both walk free," Amarantha continued smoothly. "But if she fails, you will both bleed for me."

Your heart slammed against your ribs. The crowd was silent. Rhysand hadn't moved an inch—but you felt him watching.

"Am I understood?" There was no choice.

"Yes," you said flatly.

Feyre's head whipped toward you, panic flaring in her eyes. "Y/N—"

"Yes," you repeated, louder this time.

Because if you refused—Amarantha would find a way to kill you both instead. You knew it.

"Do you want to give it a try, little rat?” Feyre didn’t answer, she clearly had no idea of the answer. Amarantha's grin spread wider. "Wonderful." She clapped her hands, the sound cracking through the room. "Take them to the arena."

☆

The guards seized you both, yanking you toward the iron doors. You barely heard Feyre's frantic whispers as they dragged you through the corridors—

“What are you doing? Why would you agree to that?”

Because there was no other way. Because you'd rather spill anyone's blood but hers. Because Amarantha wanted to break you both—and she didn't realize she'd only given you a weapon to survive. Your own hatred. Your own rage.

And somewhere in the shadows, Rhysand's voice echoed through your mind—soft, amused, and entirely too calm.

“I can't wait to see what you'll do today, little mouse.”

☆

The iron gates screeched open. Blinding sunlight that you have been deprived of in the last days. Roaring crowds that almost made you deaf with how loud they were. The arena stretched out before you, a pit of bloodstained sand and jagged rock. Feyre's breathing turned sharp, shallow. You reached out, catching her trembling hand in yours.

"I'll fight for you," you whispered. “We'll fight together and win.”

Her blue-gray eyes snapped to yours, wide with fear. "But who's going to fight for us?"

You just smiled. Because you already knew the answer. Violet eyes burned into your back from the shadows above.

The crowd roared around the arena, a cacophony of cruel laughter and hungry whispers echoing off the stone walls. The Middengard Wyrm suddenly slithered through the trenches of the labyrinth, its putrid breath carrying the scent of death and rot. Feyre trembled beside you, her eyes wide and fixed on the looming beast.

You, on the other hand, couldn't stop grinning.

"Oh, she's beautiful, don't you think?" you mused, almost breathless.

Feyre's head snapped toward you like you'd lost your mind—and maybe you had. "Are you out of your godsdamned mind?" she hissed.

"Possibly." You crouched low, scanning the maze's layout. "But if we're going to die, at least let me enjoy the scenery."

Feyre looked like she was about to strangle you—if the Wyrm didn't get there first. The crowd above shrieked with laughter as the beast's massive, scaled body slithered closer, sniffing the air.

Amarantha leaned forward on her throne, golden eyes narrowed. "What is wrong with that one?" she muttered, half to herself.

Rhysand smirked from her side, swirling his goblet lazily. "Perhaps she's just having fun."

Amarantha's gaze flicked to him, then back to you.

The Wyrm's guttural growl echoed through the arena. You grabbed Feyre's wrist, dragging her behind a mound of rubble.

"Listen to me," you whispered urgently. "It's blind. It hunts by scent, not sight."

Feyre's breath was ragged. "How do you know that?"

You grinned wider. "I met one of those before."

The Wyrm's massive body crashed into the walls behind you, sending stone flying. Feyre flinched, but you only laughed.

Laughing. Like you were at some godsdamned festival instead of a death pit. Bets started to be made—loud calls from the crowd above.

"They'll last two minutes."

"One, if the beast is hungry."

"Three, if the older one is as mad as she looks."

Amarantha's lip curled. Rhysand swirled his wine, eyes fixed on you with open amusement.

"I'll take that bet."

Amarantha blinked, then smiled cruelly. "What?"

"I bet they survive."

The Queen of Prythian leaned back, eyes narrowing.

"And why would you waste your money on such stupidity?"

Rhysand's smile turned wicked. "Call it... curiosity."

Down in the pit, you crouched lower in one of the hollow points in the wall, still grinning like a lunatic.

"Okay, Feyre, you're going to make a trap for that thing."

Feyre gaped at you like you'd grown a second head. "A trap?"

"Yes, you're smart—you can figure it out. Cover yourself in the mud, so you don't smell and make your magic."

"I can't—"

"You can," you snapped, eyes locked on the beast. "Dig. Now."

The Wyrm let out another earth-shaking growl, sniffing the air. Feyre's hands started clawing at the dirt—clumsy, desperate.

You stood out in the open, arms crossed, whistling. The Wyrm's head snapped toward the sound.

"Y/N!" Feyre gasped.

"Shhh," you grinned. "I'm flirting."

The crowd howled. Rhysand's laughter echoed through the arena—low and rich.

You paced slowly along the edge of the trench, clicking your tongue.

"Here, wyrmy wyrmy wyrmy..."

The beast lunged—and you bolted, barely dodging as its massive jaws snapped shut behind you.

"You are insane," Feyre screamed at you, still digging.

"You should try it—might make you more fun."

Minute after minute passed. The crowd was having the time of their life, apparently. Bets doubled. Tripled. Amarantha's smile began to falter the longer you could run from that thing without getting tired. The hole Feyre was making grew deeper by the second. The Wyrm circled, its forked tongue flicking out, scenting the air—but every time it got close, you darted just out of reach, laughing breathlessly.

Feyre's hands were raw, bloodied—but the pit was nearly finished. When it was ready, you sprinted in front of the Wyrm one last time, your voice ringing through the arena:

"You've been a lovely audience!"

And then you jumped inside of the hole, landing on your knees as pointed at the biggest and sharpest bone you could find while you ran in the labyrinth. The Wyrm lunged straight into the hole—straight into you.

Silence.

Then your singing voice while you climbed out through the beast's body. "VICTORY IS MIIIIIIINE—"

Feyre clamped a bloody hand over your mouth, her breath heaving. "You're going to get us killed."

You licked her palm. She yanked her hand away with a curse. “By the gods, what is your problem?”

Up on the dais, Amarantha's face was a mask of rage. The crowd had fallen into stunned silence. Only one person was clapping. A slow, deliberate sound. Rhysand. He got closer to the railing then, violet eyes locked on yours, a secret smile playing on his lips.

"I believe that means I win."

You pushed to your feet, brushing dirt from your torn clothes. With the most mocking, exaggerated bow you could muster, you turned to Rhysand. "My lord."

His smile sharpened as he raised his goblet of wine to you. "My lady."

It was the last thing you saw before the Attor's fist collided with the back of your skull. Pain exploded behind your eyes. The world tilted. Feyre screamed. Another blow—this time to your ribs—sent you crumpling to the ground. The Attor's claws wrapped around your arm, twisting until something in your shoulder snapped. You bit down on your own scream, tasting blood.

"Just to remind you, this game isn't fair," Amarantha's voice rang out coldly.

The Attor wrenched your arm harder. "Her Majesty is unhappy with the outcome."

You gritted your teeth, blinking through the pain. Feyre was screaming—fighting—but the guards held her back.

You spat blood onto the sand, then smiled through crimson teeth. "Oh, but you should see how happy I am." The Attor punched you again.

The last thing you saw before the darkness took you was Rhysand, still watching, still smiling. Still betting on you.

☆

When you woke up, the first thing you felt was the searing pain in your shoulder, radiating down your arm. Your mind was foggy, almost like you were trapped underwater, catching only bits and pieces of the conversation echoing from somewhere nearby.

"Bargain..."

"One month..."

"Healing…"

"Helping both at the trials..."

"Keeping me company during Amarantha's balls..."

The sound of his voice — that voice — made something flicker inside you, drawing you closer to the surface.

"Since your cousin set me free from Amarantha's control... I have a lot of free time now that I don't need to entertain Your Majesty anymore."

Your eyes snapped open, the cell spinning around you. Rhysand. That bastard.

You tried to sit up, but the sharp pull in your shoulder made you hiss in pain. Your arm hung at a wrong angle, still bleeding — your healing magic had been locked away while you were unconscious.

Before you could even think about fixing it yourself, darkness curled through the cell like smoke, and in a blink, Rhysand was crouching beside you — that same amused smirk tugging at his lips.

He leaned close, voice a low purr only for your ears. "Easy, you little menace... I'm only here to help."

His voice was softer than you'd ever heard him speak — not the mocking, wicked tone he used with everyone else. It pissed you off instantly. Your mind bolted awake, ignoring the pain as you sat up and glared at him.

"Really? My cousin?" you rasped. You looked at Feyre with as much indignation as you could. "You made a bargain without my supervision? I'm unconscious for what… five fucking minutes? And you're out here selling your soul to the prettiest male with powers?

Feyre, standing on the other side of the cell, looked utterly baffled — probably still dizzy from seeing all of the blood loss and the whole selling-her-life-to-the-High-Lord-of-the-Night-Court thing.

"You were going to die if he didn't help you!" she snapped.

You just scoffed, rolling your eyes even as your vision blurred. "I would’ve been fine if you just gave me time to wake up."

You called for your magic — clawing at that deep well inside you — and the familiar spark flared to life. It slithered beneath your skin, washing away the lingering fog. Rhysand's hand was still on your good shoulder, fingers light — but when your magic pushed out against his touch, something flickered in his violet eyes. You didn't give him time to question it.

With one sharp yank, you snapped your shoulder back into place. Pain lanced through you, but the broken bones began knitting back together almost instantly — skin sealing, bruises fading, blood drying.

“We have a lot of lack of trust here. Next time you wait for me.” You said to Feyre, out of breath from the amount of effort.

On the other side, Rhysand's eyebrows lifted. "You're... half-fae."

You deadpanned him, panting. "No shit."

His smirk grew wider — like you'd just handed him the most delicious little secret on a silver platter.

Feyre blinked at both of you, still pale.

"Wait— what?"

You flicked the rest of mud off your filthy clothes, feeling your old hometown accent slip from your tongue as your control started to fray.

"Oh, don't look so shocked, cousin. It was pretty clear that faes have healing abilities. You knew that! I told you!" You tested your shoulder, rotating it a few times before shooting Rhysand a glare. "And you too! The hell? Honestly, I've been locked up in that miserable Spring Court for months, pretending to be a sweet little human that knows nothing and does nothing, hoping for the day I could end this misery! There were perfectly good Courts out there with wine, silk sheets, and males who actually know how to speak like civilized beings. But no! It had to be Spring! So apologies if I am really pissed off that you just tricked my favorite cousin into a bargain that I have no idea what is while I was suffering the consequences of being a nice person for once."

Rhysand laughed softly — a low, decadent sound that sent heat curling through your stomach. "You're from the Night Court."

You flashed him a grin, letting your accent slip even thicker. "No shit."

Feyre's mouth fell open. "You're from the Night Court?!"

You deadpanned her. "What gave it away, smartass?"

"... The accent?" she mumbled, absolutely lost.

Rhysand's smirk grew even sharper, his violet eyes gleaming. "I could get used to having you both around.”

You shot him a dirty gesture. "But don't get too excited, darling, you won't get good guy treatment, you’re still the second prettiest male I've ever met."

His grin turned positively wicked. "Who's the first?"

You leaned heavily against him, using his arm to push yourself to your feet. "Haven't met him yet."

His low chuckle curled around your ribs — but you ignored the way it made your knees weak. Instead, you glared between the two of you, absolutely done with both your shit.

"Would one of you explain what bargain Feyre, and consequently I, just agreed to before I throw myself off the first cliff I find?"

You straightened your filthy clothes, flicking a bit of dirt from your sleeve like you weren't still half-dead.

"So, let's say I was desperate and thought you were going to die. And then I sold my soul to him for two weeks per month for eternity to live in the Night Court and apparently, we're his new party decorations."

Rhysand smirked wider, reeking of satisfaction. "I do love a good deal like this one. It's fair."

“I mean, he's going to help us in the next trials too… I'm not sure how, but It's in the deal so…” Feyre kept talking, unsure of your reaction. So you shot a smile to her and turned to Rhysand, a death glare in your eyes.

"Then let's hope you got a lot of patience left, darling, because you're going to be seeing a lot of us. And that's a threat."

His violet eyes glinted with something darker — something only you could see. You weren't sure if you'd won or just signed your own death warrant. Either way... You were going to have the time of your life.

☆

The second trial was worse than the first. Not because of the blood or the screams or the stench of death that clung to the air like a curse. No— It was worse because Amarantha had made sure this trial would break both of you from the inside out.

Lucien hung on the bridge of death, a few meters away from being smashed into pulp by the spiked ceiling that would be itching lower and lower for every second you didn't finish the trial. Feyre stood on one side of the the carved hole on the ground, in front of a stone wall written with lines and lines of text — her hands shaking as she stared at the levers below, numbered from one to three.

You stood on the other side of the hole, with only Lucien screaming between you both separating you. You were in front of a different wall, your own question hidden behind a sliding stone panel.

Amarantha's voice slithered through the arena like a knife. "The younger girl must answer first."

You glared at the bitch on her bone throne, grinding your teeth. "What kind of fucked up game is this?" you snarled.

Amarantha just smiled, cold and cruel. "Only once she answers correctly, your question will be revealed. Two minds should work together to save the life of a common friend. You should start.”

The ceiling began to go down on Lucien, he still had a few meters before he would need to get down. In the first few seconds he already sat on the ground, as if to give you space to look at Feyre. Her breath was coming in shallow gasps. You could see her eyes flicking over the carved text, could feel the panic rising in every line of her body. What—

Why was she just standing there?

"Come on, Feyre—"* you shouted, even as your own heart pounded against your ribs. "Read it."

Feyre's wide, terrified eyes snapped to yours. "I—" She swallowed hard. "I can't."

For a heartbeat, the entire throne room went silent. You stared at her—

The girl who had traded everything to get you both here. The girl who always read the prices at the market and reported them to you. The girl who had memorized every shortcut, every bargain, every hidden trick of surviving in that miserable village.

"What the fuck do you mean you can't?" you said, cold dread curling around your ribs.

Her face flushed, shame flickering across her pale features. "I only ever learned the words of things we needed to buy and the numbers. To read the prices."

The breath caught in your throat.

No.

No, no, no—

You thought—

You always thought she could read because of the market, because she always knew what things cost—

But of course.

Numbers. The same repetitive words. She only ever needed to differentiate the numbers. And she had never told you.

Rhysand's voice slipped through the bond, low and silky. "Surprised, little mouse?"

You clenched your jaw so hard it ached. "Get out of my fucking head and help her."

He only laughed softly — like he was enjoying this far too much. But then... you felt it — the whisper of his power curling around Feyre like a gentle breeze, guiding her.

And when she reached for the right lever —

You knew. He was indeed helping her. You could have kissed him if you weren't so busy trying not to vomit from nerves.

The lever clicked.

Lucien's strangled scream echoed through the arena as the spikes halted for now. You almost forgot he was there, as his body was already lay down on the ground, less than a meter separating his body from the imminent death.

Amarantha's smile faltered. "Lucky girl." She turned her eyes to you. “Your turn, maniac.”

“Honestly, as long as it's not mathematics I think I will be fi—” Then she snapped her fingers. Your stone panel slid open and the question carved into the wall was written in ancient fae language — twisting symbols that blurred together in your foggy mind. “Fuck.”

Fuck.

The ceiling began to dip lower on Lucien. You knew only fragments, aleatory words your mother had taught you in hurried nights when you were barely talking in the common language. The amount of time you spent without it was crushing down on your brain.

Rhysand’s voice slithered through your mind again. "Do you need help too, abomination?"

You clenched your fists. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "Fuck off."

His dark chuckle echoed through your bones.

Focus. You scanned the symbols—

"Soul."

"Price."

“Owl?”

"Death."

“Thousand years.”

Was that supposed to be a name or was just a word? The answer clicked into place in your mind like a puzzle snapping together, an old story of a man that traded his soul to be transformed into an owl for a thousand years so the death God would bring his wife back. One word for each of the five levers in front of you. The question was what kind of action the man took to save his loved one. You pulled the "Sacrifice" one without hesitation.

The spikes stopped. The whole place went deathly silent, before shouts and happy screams started to unravel. Even Amarantha looked... surprised.

Only one voice broke the noises — low and lazy, dripping with amusement. "Well... two lucky little girls, then."

Rhysand — lounging in the shadows like this was his own private entertainment. You turned toward him, heart still thundering in your chest. Without missing a beat, you broke out the biggest smile you could, dirt and sweat streaked down your face. "Thank you for your generous encouragement, High Lord."

His violet eyes glinted dangerously. "Anytime."

You straightened, grinning despite the ache in your body. Right before Amarantha's smile returned, sharp as a blade.

"How lovely." She purred. "We shall have a ball tonight to celebrate their victory."

Your stomach dropped straight to the floor. You could see that Feyre's face paled now that the spiked ceiling was rising up again. Rhysand only smirked.

You could feel his voice purring through your mind "I hope you brought something pretty to wear, little mouse."

☆

Nuala and Cerridwen were shadows wrapped in silk as they slipped inside your cell with bundles of fabric under her arms and a hand extended to each of you. "Time to get ready."

Feyre's face went pale. You just grinned despite the fathom ache in your shoulder and the bruises still colored — but not aching — across your ribs. "It's just a ball, cousin. What the hell should we be nervous of?"

Nuala's dark eyes flicked over you, amused. "You're not scared, are you?"

"Terrified," you deadpanned, making Cerridwen snort.

They traveled through the shadows until you got to a large and beautiful room. They dressed Feyre first — a midnight blue dress, almost modest and simple. Just a whisper of cleavage, the fabric flowing down to the floor like liquid night. No sleeves were attached to the dress, but the shadow covered females painted intricate details all over the remaining skin. They painted a little bit of Feyre's face with eyeshadow and lipstick, to bring a bit of color back to her face. Then they turned to you.

You knew the second they unwrapped the purple silk that Rhysand had chosen it himself. It was darker than a blue, the color of a sky right before the stars bled through, the color of his eyes — cut to cling to every curve, not as revealing as you had seen in the Undercity... but not exactly modest either. Just a few strategic slits across your thighs, the neckline dipping just enough to make a male think about what might lie underneath, and two cuts made to reveal your waist to the public.

But the real weapon was the jewelry they offered — silver pendants woven into the fabric, little glinting stars that winked every time you moved. Delicate chains wrapped around your bare arms, hanging from your wrists like shackles. Chains that dripped with shining pendants rounded your exposed waist. A collar circled your throat — simple, silver... Possessive.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror. You looked like Night Court royalty, in the way you used to be dressed like by your mother — dangerous and untouchable.

A familiar voice purred from the shadows. "That's more like it."

Rhysand leaned against the wall, so fucking smug. His eyes dragged over your body — slowly, lazily — before flicking to Feyre.

"I expect you'll be on the dance floor tonight, Feyre... maybe with Lucien? Or Tamlin, if he can crawl down from his throne." Feyre's mouth pressed into a thin line. “The paint is to make sure they don't touch you while I'm not present. It doesn't dry, so if anyone but me and your cousin touch you, we will know.”

"And me?" you asked, tilting your head.

Rhysand's gaze snapped back to you, his violet eyes glowing faintly. "You'll be sitting with me."

You knew what he meant — that you were supposed to perch on a chair beside him like some pretty little pet. So when the ball began and the music swelled… You sat in his lap instead.

His hand gripped your hip the second you settled on him, claws barely sheathed. His breath ghosted against your neck — low and dangerous.

"What do you think you're doing, you little menace?"

You leaned back against his chest, fingers tracing the rim of the wine glass he'd handed you. "Sitting with you. Like you asked."

Rhysand's chuckle vibrated through your spine. "You're playing a very dangerous game."

"For your information, I've always been a sore loser."

His teeth grazed your ear — so softly no one would see. "I'll keep that in mind."

The wine tasted like sin and starlight, just like you remembered — but the second Feyre's fingers twitched toward a goblet, both you and Rhysand shot her matching glares.

"Don't even think about it." you hissed.

Rhysand's grin sharpened. "I'd hate to see you lose what's left of your mind, Feyre darling."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, but quickly left after spotting Lucien in the crowd. She needed a distraction if she wanted to pull him aside to talk. You swirl the wine in your goblet — then glance sideways at Rhysand. His eyes were already on you. You could feel the heat simmering beneath his calm facade, the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly on your waist.

Without breaking eye contact, you tipped your head back — letting the wine trickle slowly between your lips. Rhysand's pupils flared. You held the last mouthful on your tongue. Thinking. Calculating.

Then you pulled the hair in the back of his neck to tilt his head and leaned forward — so close your noses almost brushed — just to press your mouth to his.

He froze for half a heartbeat. Then his lips parted, and you tipped the wine from your tongue to his. Hot. Slow. Filthy. You could feel that the entire room stared.

It was supposed to be a brief kiss — just enough to make every eye fixate on you instead of Feyre slipping away to Lucien. But Rhysand's hand slid up your spine, burying in your hair. His other hand gripped your thigh — fingers digging into the slit of your dress, dragging your leg higher across his lap.

You felt him smile against your mouth and then he bit your bottom lip hard enough to make you gasp.

"Good girl," he purred so low only you could hear. When you finally pulled away — panting, flushed — his thumb traced your bruised lip. "You wear my colors so well."

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest. "I grew up wearing them anyway."

Rhysand's eyes snapped to yours. And for one sharp second, you saw something flicker beneath that perfect mask. Recognition. Home.

But then the music shifted. A slow, haunting melody that made your entire body seize. You knew that song. A traditional Night Court dance — one they'd played at every Solstice, every masquerade. One your mother had taught you when you were barely tall enough to reach her waist.

Rhysand's mouth curved. "Do you still remember this one, little mouse?" Your heart was hammering now. "How long has it been since you left our home, after all?" You stood without a word — grabbing his hand and dragging him onto the dance floor.

The dance was intimate naturally. Every step demanded the couple stay close — chest to chest, thighs brushing, breath mingling. But when Rhysand's hand settled heavy on your waist, fingers splaying beneath the slit in your dress, you knew the two of you were about to make it worse.

Your own hand slid up to his shoulder — nails scraping against the silk of his jacket. The first step was slow — a teasing slide. The second, he pressed you against him, your breasts brushing his chest. His thumb stroked along your spine — once, twice — before curling possessively around your nape. You tilted your chin up — daring him.

Rhysand's breath fanned over your lips. "How many times have you danced this on your time in the Night Court?"

"Not enough."

His mouth curved. "Then let's fix that."

He spun you — so hard your dress flared, flashing a hint of thigh.

When he caught you again, his knee slid between your legs — the faintest pressure against the ache building there. You bit back a gasp. His grin was pure sin.

"Careful,” he murmured. "You're supposed to be distracting them... not making me distracted in front of the entire Court."

Your laugh was breathless. "Multitask, High Lord."

His mouth brushed your ear. "I could have you begging by the end of this night."

You leaned in, lips grazing his throat. "You'll have to catch me first."

He growled so softly you almost didn't hear it. And then spun you into another step.

☆

By the time the song ended, you were both flushed and panting. And everyone in the Court was watching you.

Feyre was gone.

Lucien was gone.

Tamlin hadn't moved from his throne like the coward he was. Amarantha's nails carved little half-moon dents into the armrests beside her. Rhysand only leaned down, brushing his lips against your ear—

"You always were the best distraction, little mouse."

You were still catching your breath when he led you back to his lap. Where you belonged.

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