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#was hoping to see more jewels
lottiesprophecy · 2 months
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• princess irulan corrino inspo
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errantgoat · 15 days
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IT'S DONE. I'M DONE.
535 hours across 5 complete playthroughs, dear BG3 you are going on the shelf until I can look at you again. xDD
the last run was super fun, the tactician difficulty definitely made me more involved/finally got me using scrolls and various potions and elixirs instead of hoarding them till (and past) the very end
i even managed to accomplish the most difficult thing in the whole game and saved all the gondians (if you know, you know)
maybe I'll attempt an honor run one day, but this is not the day
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growingwithem · 1 year
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snappysprinkledog · 2 years
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Yall wouldn't believe the number of men I've assigned to 'could talk to at a party but never a close friend' over the realisation they're not viewing me as a person but rather as a Girl
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month
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Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Boothill, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his shy gn crush giving him a love letter before leaving quickly?
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Sunday:
Is calm upon receiving the note and still just as calm after reading it.
He knew this day was coming, you weren’t necessarily subtle about it either but he didn’t want to bring it up to you, knowing that if he did you’d loose all the confidence you’ve mustered up in order to give him the note.
He could read you like an open book and yet your sweet, genuine words touched his heart regardless. You held his heart in your hand and you weren’t even aware, he’ll be sure to rectify that soon enough.
While he wishes you could’ve told him in person, however he’ll gladly suffice for a note instead, seeing as it was the closest he’ll get in regard to an official confession.
With his place in your heart ensured, Sunday could finally use this as an opportunity to spoil you to your hearts content. Anything and everything you could ever possibly want or wish for was going to be yours if he had anything to do with it.
Your wish was his command and he’ll gladly rid himself of any competitors for your heart, all the while shielding your eyes from his underhanded tactics in doing so.
Welt:
You make this old man feel as though he were young and lively when you gave him the note and running off before he could say anything.
He felt as though he was in a romcom that he saw once…not that he was complaining.
Your note was so sweet and thoughtful that the more he continued to read, the more he began to find even more reasons to love you, for who you were was the most precious and perfect person in his life.
He didn’t want to confess first incase that he misread your past interactions for something else, but the note you’ve given him proved that his initial thoughts were correct, and that in reality he was just insecure and felt silly of the idea that someone his age was still experiencing things such as a crush.
But it was so much more than that and Welt knew it.
The only question left was, when was it going to be his time to confess?
Dan heng:
Thank god he took the note back to his room while he did because had he read it beforehand, otherwise his fellow trailblazers would’ve seen his face go the reddest it’s ever been in history.
He reads and re-reads your note to make sure that he wasn’t tricking himself but no, it was a real physical note from you confessing your crush on him.
Dan Heng felt as though he needed to sit down and think this through before he did something impulsive and stupid.
His little dragon noodle brain was telling him that he should seek out the most beautiful of all treasures, whether that be literature, clothing, jewels, and give them to you in droves in hopes of impressing you into being his mate.
Dan Heng dismisses it quickly as it came as it’ll probably overwhelm you and that was the exact opposite of what he wanted, and with that it was back to the drawing board to brainstorm.
Gallagher:
The moment he reads your note, he’s already got ideas on how your first date should go.
He’s not pissing about, not when you’ve given him the opportunity to treat you like he thought you should be treated; like you were the most priceless thing in existence because to him you very much were.
So why should he hesitate and potentially miss his chance to be with the person of his dreams?
He knew your favourite drink like the back of his hand from the countless times he’s made in perfecting it to your liking, so that wasn’t going to be as much of a problem as asking you out on a date was.
But he’ll figure something out, even if he’d have to improvise on the day. It would’ve been worth it if it meant having you by his side by the end of it.
Blade:
He’s not use to this sort of thing as love notes were a foreign concept to him.
He understood the intention and meaning behind it but he wasn’t the one to receive such notes.
So when you dropped off the note with him and ran the faster he’s ever seen you with a flustered look upon your face, Blade instantly knew then and there what the note was solely from your expression.
He wasn’t stupid so why he feeling a fluttering within his chest upon making this revelation?
It wasn’t painful nor caused his body any ache nor strife, if anything the more the warm, euphoric feeling spread throughout his body, the more his daily pains become an after thought in light of a possibility that you might actually like him back.
He always thought that the stories and blood -both his own and others- that stained his hands would run you off within a moments notice. Instead you choose to grasp his hands gently, wipe away the blood unfazed and still be able to look into his eyes after all that and smile.
You were his and Blade would be damned if he allowed anyone to encroach on you, regardless of their intentions. You weren’t to be taken from him for he’s already been through a lot and you weren’t going to be another name amongst the lost.
Boothill:
‘What’s this? Finally come to confess to me have you?’ He’d tease but would be genuinely surprised when he opens the note and finds that it actually is a confession note.
His crush? Liking him back? Bullshit!
He may act confident and self assured but he was in heavily in denial to begin with, but the more he re-read the note, he could tell that you were being serious. Which was a drastic change from your typically shy and anxious demeanour.
He even had to pinch the skin of his face to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming this up and that you were genuinely in love with him.
Sad he knows, but would you really be willing to date a man who wouldn’t be able to feel you expect from his face? Yeah he didn’t think so.
And yet you’ve proven him wrong by writing him a love letter confessing how you didn’t care about that, and how you loved him regardless if he could feel you or not. He was still someone you cared for deeply at the end of the day, never less someone you happened to find attractive. You weren’t shallow and Boothill knows this.
Not only that but he was genuinely scared that his best wasn’t going to be enough for you, sweet, kind, caring you…However Boothill recognises that hesitating and fearing the what ifs weren’t going to help him in wining your heart true and proper.
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dduane · 10 days
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Hi Diane!
I promise this will end in an ask, but I have a story to share first, if you have the time.
I’m very new to Tumblr, in fact, I was moved to finally create an account to send you this message, but I’ve been casually poking around for a bit. A quick google last summer told me that Tumblr is the best place to get Good Omens news from Neil himself, but it didn’t do the courtesy of warning me just how magnetic this particular bastion of chaotic creative internet mayhem can be. This story is one example. Fun note, when I was composing this message my husband looked over my shoulder at the literal essay I’d typed out and suggested that I maybe, perhaps, might consider shortening it to the length of a conversation that could take place in an elevator. Or in line at the coffee shop. However, i’m not one sacrifice enormity for brevity.
Your post the other day regarding the cover for your novel, Stealing the Elf King’s Roses, got me thinking. First, that it was a very genuine thing to share, second, that I wasn’t entirely sure why I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work, and third, what a fun visual challenge. I was still thinking about it when I should have been sleeping, so I decided to dig in. I almost stopped reading your bio at the ‘blah blah blah’ because I was feeling quite bad about my media literacy at that point, but then I saw that you’re well-known for the Young Wizard series.
The Young Wizard series.
I said I’d try to keep it brief and this is my best attempt. I read books 1-5 of that series during the hardest, strangest, most heartbreaking time in my childhood when I desperately needed a different reality than my own. What I found in your novels was so much better than that. Your stories, your characters, your vision, helped teach me to ground myself in my strengths, frame my reality with hope and purpose, and how to build the spaces I needed within myself to find the compassion, forgiveness, joy and peace I so desperately needed. One of the things I built within myself on my healing journey was a beautiful jeweled box. It resides in my mind just off of I-335 in Topeka, Kansas. I was driving through the flint hills on a road trip from Milwaukee to Wichita when I finally finished the long process of constructing it, so that is where it stays, shining in the sun and twinkling under the stars. This box contains everything I experienced that couldn’t come with me as I grew. Crafting it was a lengthy, emotional, wrenching process, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done to allow me to become the person I am today. I used visit it every now and again, to make sure the jewels are still bright, but I’m very careful to not jostle the lid.
I’m recounting all of this to you because two nights ago I quite suddenly found myself standing beside my box for the first time in almost a decade. I could feel the gravel under my slipper socks as I gently opened the lid to see my copies of your books resting at the very top. I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work when I saw your name because it is so inextricable from the very fabric of how healed myself, that I accidentally let your words fall under the closed lid of the very box they helped enable me to make. Nothing else clamored to be released as I carefully pulled them out, and once more closed the lid.
So, the ask. I will be brief here - I’m an artist. Not currently working professionally as I’m exploring a different career path, but I’m usually working on a personal project or two. I needed a new one and was still intrigued by the post that started this all, so to help me process the emotions described above I made a version of a cover for STEKR and wanted to ask if I could share it with you. It looks like I can’t attach here, but I’d love to post it on my new, very empty page. It truly might not be your style, but I once again found solace in a space you opened the door to and this time I have the opportunity to share it!
Also, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
You're so very welcome! And I'm really glad the books were there for you when you needed them. (And plainly are there with you still.) 😊
And absolutely, post that cover! I'll be delighted to see it.
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kingsandbastardz · 4 months
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So for basically my whole life I'd grown up with and was resigned to accept that the chinese concept of formal/nice clothing of my and the previous generation has been western clothes. So at any awards ceremonies or performances, entertainers would show up mostly in western suits/dresses and maaaaaybe you'll spot the occasional cheongsam if they're going for a Wong Fei Hong vibe. Which, you know, kinda sucks if you have any concept of western cultural imperialism in asia.
So when the hanfu revivalist movement started, I was waiting to see when it would enter the mainstream -- my hope was for fashion designers to integrate traditional/dynastic elements into their work and make it common place enough that I can buy this shit online for ME. Because I WANT.
Though some of the designs can be a bit hit or miss, I am LOVING what various stars and entertainers are wearing out and about now.
Anyway - here's a collection of Xiao Shunyao's modern hanfu inspired/hybridized stage outfits from the last couple years. For his MLC performances, his stylists seem to be borrowing inspiration from his Di Feisheng and possibly other character costume silhouettes.
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I'd been seeing a few comments about how his outfits play with gender - and some of his outfits do! But I think the interesting thing to discuss is from which standard is he playing with gender? Because from a western perspective, the things he does with his western suit tops, belting on top of the jacket for a tightly cinched waist, and the addition of a trailing skirt = femme. But if you're talking from a hanfu-hybridized pov, that's just a modern take on hanfu and having any of those elements is not inherently femme and would often read masc to me.
So these things aren't necessarily gendered because they exist traditionally in chinese men's clothing or costume designs (ie video games, comics, historical fiction illustrations and film, etc, so therefore in the modern lexicon of masculine/acceptable for men):
presence or lack of a skirt
silky, velvety, gauzy or sparkly material choice, esp in formal or stage clothing
short or long length of skirt
embroidery
flowers/floral/bird designs
folding fans
certain styles of makeup
beading, gold, tassels, jewels
non-chunky jewelry
headbands
widely flowing silhouettes
What XSY's stylists are doing with some western clothing items are interesting. I'm convinced there have been one or two western jacket tops made of thinner material that they're folding over the front, and belting down instead of buttoning (which then matches with his other outfits that are designed specifically to do this). Then they're adding a skirt, cloak or bracer element to it.
The western portions often bring a military minimalist feel which they balance with a more gauzy material in the skirt or cloak portions.
Things I think are playing with gender:
row 1 - image 1: red di feisheng-inspired outfit
The lace-up girdle is there to match the bracers in both material and style. And it's positioned to be similar to the heavy belt that Di Feisheng wears. HOWEVER. That style of girdle/corset-like clothing item can't be divorced from the modern idea of sexy leather corsets. So imo, this waist piece on that outfit was a choice. Especially when paired with his allergic-to-collars-higher-than-his-sternum necklines. And if you take into context how masculine yet female coded his character is in the drama, the whole look evokes that.
row 2, image 1: black western suit with belt on top, hat, cloak, black boots and not-visible but also a black tassel fringe skirt
Hat and cloak moves the intention of the outfit from western toward a more Asian slant, because alone, it looks like a western black suit with western heeled boots, cinched waist with a lady's belt (seated photoshoot) and western style tassel skirt. The suit top consists of a vest and a shrug-like sleeve portion that appears masculine at first glance. But take the shrug and pair it with the tassel skirt (I can't find the red carpet photos but here is a better view of the skirt when seated), and I think you got a look that's both intentionally edging toward the femme in a western sense but also confusing matters by hiding within the parameters of both western and chinese traditional male styling.
row 2 - image 2 : white asymetrical western jacket styled in a front fold-over style, gauze skirt, trailing pearl embellishments
The more traditional leaning version of this is the white outfit in row 3 that he wears to the Hi6 Hello Saturday variety show -- the skirt portion on that outfit is one I'd consider non-gendered. Row 1, images 2 and 3 are examples of masculine/neutral uses of gauze that plays with flow of form but isn't inherently femme. This stage outfit is very western-appearing masculine suiting, until you hit the skirt which is giving me long ballerina tie-on skirt with the additional swan/mermaid pearl strings. Imo, another example of deliberately using traditional masculine styling but switching it up with the combination of material choice and make that is feminine.
row 2, image 3: black space military boots, black suiting, black -silver ombre sequin trailing skirt and white gauzy shawl with black floral design
The over all design is going for a masculine military-feel. (think this outfit for shen langhun) But instead of a thicker military cloak, it's replaced with a woman's gauze shawl and a skirt that trails behind him very much like the back of a woman's formal fish-tail gown when he moves around. If you take into context Wang Herun's outfit is a white-silver sequined dress cut in a way to also give a space-military-queen vibe, imo they both coordinated their outfits to balance out with both femme and masc qualities.
Thoughts? I'm curious what others think about this.
While I wait for the CNY photoshoot for XSY's red and black look, here's him with his stage collaborators with a nice range of skirt lengths, period influences and material choices. The woman in the center is the one with the most military-fighter design out of the bunch. The dudes are all in variations of formal-wear-with-good-kicking-boots (and lots of crotch space).
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chrollohearttags · 3 months
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“..smile for me, daddy..”
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you take quite the liking to eren’s newest piece of jewelry!
oral sex (p + a eating), spit play, hair pulling, fingering, squirting, need I say more?
I’ve written this trope before but I’m doing it again because why not?! I can’t get it out of my head and I am pushing this agenda. (Also trying to ease back into writing because I’ve been bullshitting.)
* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•
“What you think, my man? How ya’ like it?”
“..yeah, this is the one, dude..definitely the one..”
stood before the counter at Schiaparelli Jewelers, brandishing a mirror in one hand as the the other casually stroked over his chin, Eren’s lips curled into that of quite the smirk; in turn, refracting off of the light..to say that he was satisfied with the result of his latest commission, would be a very gross understatement. Schiaparelli’s had become a staple in Miami's Design District. A multi-generational business with a reputation that preceded them. With infamy rivaled next to Johnny Dang. Having catered to celebrities and the city’s elite alike, they curated the most beautiful pieces with the utmost care. Thus, earning them millions and a recurring clientele. Among those were the Underground God himself and seasoned musical maestro, EJ the Don. Who had gotten everything from his first chain to the wedding ring he placed on his beloved (y/n)’s finger a year prior. VVS diamonds glistened from the bottom row of his already perfectly aligned teeth as he examined the new grill he had just acquired. A spur of the moment decision he’d made on impulse while you were away on another modeling trip. The custom mold wrapped his entire bottom and encapsulated his canines with red stones. It was absolutely beautiful and although the piece had set him back roughly fifteen thousand, it was well worth it and deserved in his opinion! Having just been nominated for two writing awards and a third for album of the year. Awards season was approaching and although it wasn’t among his priorities to attend, it was still a feat worth celebrating. Not to mention, it was quite the confidence boost as well. He wasn’t one to base his self worth in extravagant jewelry or expensive clothes, but he was certainly feeling quite good about himself in these. He loved the way they looked against his lips and how they complimented his teeth.
dapping up the jeweler, EJ thanked the man once more and proceeded to give him quite the hefty payment for his services..of course, self gratification wasn’t the only reason he had gone and copped this new piece for his collection. He was actually hoping to get a little something more out of the deal..
“That’s what I like to hear, my man! Listen, how do you think the missus will react? Think she’ll like ‘em?”
a question he was certain he’d find out the answer to as you had just shot him a text, saying that you’d made it home and of course..to hurry back to you! Not a moment too soon, in his opinion. He’d spent all week longing to see you again and what better way to greet you than with a surprise like this?
“..I guess we’ll find out soon enough..”
* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•
“Mmph…Rennnnn, baeee! Stop—oh my gosh…”
the words spilling out in a trail of whiny huffs being drawn forth from your mouth. Among many other lewd sounds leaving you at the moment. Just as he had expected, your reaction was one he could’ve spotted from a mile away..the second Eren made it back home through the door, (y/n) came rushing him as you leaped forth into his arms. It didn’t take long after spinning you around with an array of kisses for you to spot them..the faint glint from his mouth as you slowly pecked at it. It was when you took his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged gently, did you reveal his little secret. He could tell immediately from the glare on your face, just what you thought of it. That was also apparent by your sudden shift in demeanor..going from subtle, flirtatious kissing to full blown, unadulterated lust. He had no interest in setting you to your feet or halting your advances, especially when you continued to swirl your tongue around his own and continue filling his head with compliments. From how sexy he looked with them and how badly you desired to wet them up! “Yeah? I’m glad you like them, baby.” That was to say the least. He wasn’t shocked in the slightest and once he heard your opinions, he no longer felt any reservations about his purchase! So fast forward, and the two of you moved your little party to the downstairs game room, where he’d often reside on his days off. You’d find yourself on the leather couch in the corner, legs spread to either side as he feasted at your center. Nearly seven days had passed since you’d seen one another in person and nearly ten since you’d had any physical touch so it was obvious what was on either of your minds. Inked up fingers laced around your throat in an effort to make certain your eyes never shifted from his. Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but to glare down at him with tears and lust teeming at your waterline. A finger slid between your lips as your husband delicately flicked that tongue around your clit..and each time, he’d make certain to flash you a toothy grin. In which you’d catch those sparkling diamonds littering his mouth.
“You sure you want me to stop, baby? I mean..you were the one begging me to make you come in my mouth.” Prompting both of you to burst into laughter. He knew that it was only because you were so close to your peak. Apparent by the creamy secretions leaking down his chin and staining that silver. How he craved your essence, your flavor and the feeling of you dripping onto his tongue. How good it felt to hear your moans coagulating with the sounds of his loud slurping, erupting throughout the room. Those white toes resting atop his bare shoulder blades, curled up at the slightest brush of your little bud. “I-I..fuck, it just feels so good, baby. Please..keep going.” (Y/N) uttering with the heave of your chest, rising and falling at a rapid rate as you tried to control your breathing.
“That’s what I thought..now lay your pretty ass back and lemme take care of you..lemme eat this pussy. Missed you so bad..”
with that, he’d continue his ascent into your soaking cunt. Exploring every fold, crevice and every delectable part of his beautiful wife. It may have been his favorite pastime if he were being completely honest…eating you until he brought you to the brink of tears and ecstasy. There was something so satisfying about it. Especially with the euphoric feeling of those juices making contact with his mouthpiece. Your fingertips would run underneath his chin and stroke the side of his face as his own dug into the thick flesh of your thighs..kneading slowly and keeping you in place. “Fuck…you look so sexy. Shit..” tossing your head back and releasing another breathy giggle from the overstimulating pleasure. “..swear you gon’ make me come, daddy..right there.” Guiding him along with your hand and those loud whimpers. That sundress that wrapped your body was shuffled down to your tummy as it bunched up underneath your breasts. You’d alternate between them and those dark tresses of his, not entirely sure what to do with yourself as you were unraveling.
“Don’t tease me now, princess. I need all of that..please..”
only taking a breath momentarily to work a couple digits inside of that hole as it spasmed on the air. He knew you needed to be filled but for now, he wanted to continue his feast..in more ways than one. As he parted your legs even further and continued working those digits in and out, Eren tugged you towards him. The only time he’d become forceful, as to keep you restrained. Because whilst you were focusing on the gentle thrust of his fingers in your pussy, his tongue would snake south to your puckering hole. Where the tip prodded at it and he’d flick around until you were trembling. Pleasure only increased tenfold when you pinched at those sensitive nipples. You could barely contain yourself and it was only a matter of time before he’d be getting that sweet release. He’d squeeze at your plump asscheeks as he switched between your entrances. Lobbing each hole with a very generous amount of spit. Soft whimpers arose from your throat and even hitched but that wasn’t enough for him. He needed that body to fall apart within his grasp and to react only the way he could make it happen.
“Come on, gorgeous. Let me have it. You wanna come, don’t you?”
that toothy smirk appeared yet again along with a high pitched coo. It never fails to make you melt..with the nod of your head, you’d shake vehemently, just grasping at anything to feign off the swelling in the pit of your stomach. One that was only mere seconds from exploding.
“Aw, then let it out. Do what you said you would earlier..or you gon’ hold back on me?” Teasing as he continued to push up into your most sensitive spot. And it didn’t take long until you were exploding all over the couch and of course, those silver slugs lining your man’s mouth. “Fuck! Fuck!—“ “..thereeee we go!” (Y/N) released a shroud of juices that spilled onto the cushions and Eren let his tongue wag as he lapped up every single drop..those fingers sopping with your creaminess. Which he’d let you slurp off once you were able to compose yourself.
“Shit!..Kiss me..” whining as you tugged him up by his chain and into your grasp. Shoving that tongue back between his lips and tasting the remnants of yourself against those grills. Cupping his face between your palms, you’d pull away from each other to meet gazes once more. That’s when he’d smile for you once again and you’d swoon for him all over again.
“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to wear those more..like all the time.”
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You are the young, newly-widowed spouse of the foolish and disliked noble who started this devastating war at the border; when a mix of common folk and soldiers drag you from your bed you are already resigned to whatever fate they have chosen for you. You are dragged out in your sheer silk nightwear and forced to your knees in the mud of the main road. Glancing up you see the figures opposite, the enemy, the great hulking orcs your husband angered. Above you, you hear frantic talking - frantic, useless. None of you speak their tongue.
Finally, in desperation, you crawl forward and bow your head, pulling your hair aside to bare your neck. Surely that cannot be misunderstood. You are willing to give your life for peace. The townspeople are hardly going to let you live either way.
(You are the chieftain of an orc clan reluctantly drawn into this skirmish as a matter of honour, and when the humans drag out a small, helpless one of their own and offer it you hesitate. It is dressed in silk and wears jewels at its neck and throat, which means it is important. As grotesque as the practice is to you, your sense of pride, you know they often exchange hostages between themselves. You glance at your second, who visibly rolls her eyes but nods. Any excuse to go home.)
The orcs do not kill you there and then, but take you; you cannot tell yet if that is a mercy or a misfortune. You are bound at the wrists and ankles and flung over an orc soldier's shoulder like a sack of grain, and passed between many of them during the journey. In their own language they joke and laugh as they pass you over, sometimes pinching at the bare skin of your thigh where your clothes have hitched up.
At their camp you are deposited in the tent of the chieftain. You have heard rumours of what they do with captives, and between being ravaged until broken or eaten alive you do not know what to hope for. You merely lie there, limp and trembling slightly, until you hear the sound of someone entering. The hulking orc chieftain looks at you, tusked face unreadable, then drags you upright by a fistful of your hair to briefly press a flask to your lips. When you have gulped nearly all the water he drops you, grunts and leaves. He does not return to the tent the entire night. You know this, because the low buzzing terror in the back of your mind doesn't let you sleep.
(You hardly know what to do with the little thing. Your comrades say it is easy to carry but odd, it is full grown by the look of it but doesn't struggle at all or even try to bargain in its babbling little language. Maybe it is unwell. You order it placed in your tent and give it water yourself, but it shows no more signs of life, dull-eyed and staring at nothing. You decide to let it sleep and go back outside to drink until you pass out under the stars and the warm summer skies.)
On the second night you are taken to a river before camp, and following the example of those around you, you wash yourself; as you return to the riverbank you find your clothes gone. The orcs watch you, even the smallest of them half-again your size. You swallow your fear and walk naked back to the chieftain's tent. Once there you lower yourself to your hands and knees on the bedroll, bare skin still damp from the water. You cannot stop him from taking you, but perhaps it will hurt less or be over faster if you comply.
The orcs chieftain makes a brief, almost hissing sound at the sight of you, but does not leave this time. Their hand brushes across your back and you can feel their claws retracting. They touch and inspect you like a prize hound and you keep your eyes to the ground, tears of shame welling up. Then he presses two large, blunt fingers inside you, and you brace yourself. He fingerfucks you lazily for a minute or so before suddenly growling something you don't understand and turning you on your back, so you scramble to reposition yourself and hold your legs wide. He cradles your face in both his hands as he slowly sinks his swollen cock into you, larger than you think you could ever take and stretching you painfully yet unable to look away from his face. Your husband used to force you to look at him like this only when he wanted to watch you cry, so you brace yourself for the firm hold to turn into hard slaps that leave your ears ringing.
(The little thing washes with the others and you are approaching the tent with an armful of fabric in what you hope is close to their size when you are hit with the unexpected sight of them uncovered in your tent, positioned as any orc begging to be bred would be. You have to smother a gasp and restrain yourself; it has been too long, and little thing's fragile shape and delicate features are somehow all the more appealing for their strangeness. But you were raised well, taught that all parties must agree before partners bed each other; you don't know their tongue to ask them. You seek permission from their body language instead, first touching their back, the curve of their ass and leg, then with tentative fingers in their soft tight little hole. They do not flinch or try to flee, and they wetten for your fingers. Surely you can continue? Forgetting yourself you ask out loud.)
You wait to be hit. It doesn't happen. You wait to used rough and hurt inside; it doesn't happen either.
The looming figure of the great orc warrior above you moves with an almost incongruous care, pressing into you slowly and then simply resting there until your body becomes accustomed enough to his huge cock that he can start to move without tearing you. It's almost as if his gaze on your face is tracking the small hitched breaths or softening of your expression to know when he can begin to carefully thrust. Yet that makes no sense to you. Men have never used you so gentle, why would a savage orc do so?
He is big enough it does hurt some little but that sensation is soon overwhelmed by another, unfamiliar and disorienting; a low heat building your abdomen, a curl of pleasure that makes you whimper. Another growl comes in response, so you try to quieten, but his expression - it is so hard to read, so different, but he does not look angry.
(You are confused and troubled, but the tight heat of the little thing is so perfect around your cock. They are acting like a new prospective mate, taking your body like a mate would, but when you watch their face to try and find the answers you'd normally seek out loud there is something missing. You fuck them very gently, as such delicate pretty things should be treated, and forget yourself enough to apologise out loud when they whimper. You promise them in words they don't know that you want to make them feel good, you will stop if they struggle even once, that they are safe with you.)
The orc chief finishes with a single deep thrust and you can feel your abdomen swell with how filled you are, a little of their cum already beginning to leak down your thighs. He pulls away and you instinctively curl in on yourself, protective - the sound he makes in response is urgent but more distressed than angry. He paws at you to uncurl, look at him again; as you tilt your face up and force your body to relax he huffs and lowers his great head between your legs. Before you can even process it his rough tongue is on you, and you can feel the smooth dangerous weight of his tusks against your inner thighs. The rush of banked pleasure is equally unexpected, as he coaxes a climax from you that leaves you shaking. Afterward you are gathered up like a doll in his arms, and for the first time in three days actually believe you may be safe. Very, very, tentatively, you reach for his face and pause halfway in question.
(The little thing flinches only afterwards, but it does flinch and you immediately fight back a rush of guilt and worry. Rank be damned, the clan will not stand for taking any person unwilling, even a human one. You try to comfort them with small touches, check their face for signs of what's wrong. They are unreadable. You check between their legs and can tell they did not quite find pleasure yet, so quickly duck your head to correct it. Perhaps that is what was wrong, because when their body responds they do not flinch away from being held close. They even reach for your face, and after you nod encouragingly they trace their tiny fingers over the ridges of your skin and kiss nervously at the smooth curve of your tusk. You thrill, but say nothing; maybe they have no idea what an intimate gesture that is. You just happily nestle close.)
You were the young, newly-widowed spouse of the foolish and disliked noble who started this devastating war at the border; now, it seems, you are claimed by the warrior chief who bested him and the bedmate of a mighty orc who is gentler with you than said husband ever was and - slightly endearingly - buries his face in the crook of your neck with a low rumbling sound not unlike a purr when sleepy and post-coital.
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fayes-fics · 2 days
Text
Mirror, Mirror
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: When Benedict's wife tries on his clothes, things happen...
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Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, cross-dressing, clothing kink, light biting, breast play, a smidge of intercrural sex, very mild exhibitionism, mirror sex, vaginal sex.
Word Count: 2.2k
Authors Note: Request fill for @d-caryophyllus (HERE) about Benedict being aroused by his wife dressing up in his clothing. I hope this fits what you were hoping for, my dear. Thanks as ever to @colettebronte for the beta read. Yes, the title is a nod to Season 3, lol. Err, enjoy! <3
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It’s early in the morning on a mundane Thursday when a somewhat daring idea forms in your mind. 
Fresh out of your morning bath, you dismiss your maid quietly when usually she would assist you with dressing for the day. As the double doors click closed discreetly behind her, you glance through the open archway into your bedroom; heavy curtains still drawn there, obscuring the sunlight. In the darkness, you can just decipher the outline of your husband sleeping soundly after a late night of carousing with his brothers.
With a little secret smile, you decide that, yes, now is the perfect time. He is asleep, and you have a few hours to spare until your first social engagement - a ladies' luncheon - so why not use the time to satisfy your curiosity?
You stride to your husband's side of the dressing room, opening his wardrobe doors and running your fingers over the items within—a symphony of wools, silks and cotton, all luxurious to the touch. While he is arguably one of the more flamboyantly dressed men of the Ton, with eye-catching jewel-toned waistcoats and colourful cravats, the basics of his outfit are mostly the same every time: dark trousers and a white shirt. A large part of you is envious of that easier choice. Sometimes, it feels like a veritable minefield being a woman during the social season, the looming threat of an unintended fashion faux pas simply by wearing the wrong colour to the wrong event.
Upon a chair, you spy the outfit he discarded when he came home in the early hours, not yet tidied away by your staff. You decide this shall be your choice, a frisson that they are already worn.
Dropping your bathrobe from your shoulders, you grab the pair of his trousers and pull them on. The finely woven wool feels plush on your skin, and there is an undeniable novelty in having fabric between your thighs. They are, however, almost comically long for you, and you have to bend to roll them up a few times around your ankles. Bemused, you briefly catch sight of your reflection in the full-length dressing room mirror, topless in oversized trousers. 
You snatch his white shirt and pull it on, pausing to tug the ruffled lapels up to your face and inhale deeply, enjoying the flood of scent there. His woodsy citrus cologne, yes, but also that undercurrent that is all him. That tang you cannot help but bury your face into, be it upon his pillow when he is away or his body while you cling to him, moving together in ecstasy. 
You fasten a few buttons, then tuck the shirt into the trousers and loop the braces hanging loose around your hips up onto your shoulders, once again inspecting your reflection in the mirror with a wry smile, twisting this way and that, admiring how different you look dressed in his clothing.
“Wife, what are you doing?” 
You almost jump out of your skin as that velvet tone, slightly roughened by sleep, calls out from across the room. You twist to see Benedict leaning casually upon the archway into the dressing room, shooting you a look that is pure menacing intrigue while looking like sin himself—all riotous bedhead, and, as your eyes slip further down, gloriously naked. It makes you swallow hard.
“I… I was trying on your clothes,” you stumble sheepishly, a blush creeping over your cheeks being caught doing something perhaps rather bizarre. 
“Any reason?” he queries, bemused, that crooked smile claiming his features.
“They just seem so much more practical and comfortable—especially trousers. I would like to wear such things…” you confess, turning back to the mirror to appraise your appearance again, watching him prowl towards you in the reflection. “Are… are you vexed with me, husband? For taking such liberties?” Your words petering out, mildly abashed.
A large, warm hand wraps around your shoulder, yanking you back almost roughly, making you gasp as your shoulder blades collide with his chest.
“The precise opposite,” he rumbles, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, a sudden burning intensity that makes your lungs feel tight. 
Long fingers spider down his brocade brace, draped down your chest, lingering where the strap rests over your nipple, swiping his thumb in a deliberate tease, his face triumphant as you swoon back into him from just this simple touch. 
“My clothes look much better upon you than me,” he opines duskily, his lips tracing your temple as his fingertips push the brace aside to capture your nipple through the thin cotton shirt, making you inhale sharply. “Perhaps we should attend a party with you dressed like this?”
“That would be a scandal!” 
There is a vault in your stomach at the idea of attending a social event dressed in his clothes, even as you melt under his questing touch.
“Not in the more… bohemian… circles that I know of…” he contends; his breath is a warm gust in your ear as his other hand does the same, fondling both nipples now.
He waits until you meet his gaze in the mirror again, then lowers his lips to your neck and bites gently. His incisors a faint scrape, immediately soothed by a wide, wet lathe of his tongue. A little crest of victory as something sizeable stirs against the cleft of your bottom. 
“If I were dressed as you, then what would you wear, husband?” 
“Whatever you would like, my darling,” he offers between soft, damp kisses, a tingle running up your neck from his lips to the top of your scalp. “I could wear your clothing should you wish it. Or perhaps just your corset and underwear?” He nuzzles into you, taking a deep breath. “Our little secret…”
Something about his tone, the images he concocts, makes your blood run warm, your hand reaching up and diving into his luscious hair, tugging gently upon his roots so again he feels compelled to use his teeth, a groan bubbling up from within as he does. With a flick of his wrists, the braces fall from your shoulders, and he cups your breasts through his thin cotton shirt. It makes you sigh his name, asking for more, arousal coursing thickly through your veins—a yen to be taken right away. 
“The thought arouses you, does it not?” he correctly surmises, trailing his touch down over the shirt, brushing your ribs and belly to the fastening on the trousers, making short work of the buttons.
You nod demurely, biting your lip as you watch his dextrous hands in the mirror, his arms encircling you; it is almost as if he is removing them from himself. The air feels heady as he pushes the loosened fabric from around your frame, and it hits the rug with an audible thump.
Standing before him in just his ruffled white shirt with only a few buttons fastened, you feel his weighted stare in the mirror, lingering on the patch of hair at the apex of your thighs peeking out between the shirt sides.
“I shall prefer you keep this on…” he asserts, popping open a button over your chest so the fabric opens enough for him to slide a hand inside, tweaking your nipple and pulling you back into his frame, rutting his now solid cock against your bottom.
You turn your head to press your lips to his, imploring for more of his touch in a fervent whisper before seeking a kiss. His mouth is hot on yours, rolling his tongue with yours, endless caresses of your breasts as you burn so hot you rub your thighs together in delicious anticipation of more, already more than ready for him, your clit pulsing with each tease of his tongue.
“Here?”
You know what he is asking—if you wish to have sex right where you stand, in front of your dressing mirror, his shirt loose around your body, him naked behind you.
“Yes. Yes please…” you murmur into his mouth, rolling your body against him, telegraphing unmistakable need.
“The window is open,” he points out with a smirk, nodding towards a high window that allows in light to the dressing room but affords you not to be seen; it is open this morning to let in the summer breeze. “What if we are heard?”
“I care not,” you confess, exhaling jaggedly, knowing he likes you in this state, desperate and debauched, uncaring if you may be overheard in your pursuit of pleasure. 
Rubbing yourself upon him akin to a feline in heat, moving so his cock passes teasingly between your thighs now as you writhe. He groans and tells you not to stop, hissing his approval. So you squeeze your legs together tightly, allowing him to rut between them, the pass of his cock glancing maddeningly over your engorged clit.
His touch becomes heavier, hands mapping your body as his hips surge, and you see the red, weeping tip of his cock emerging and disappearing in the mirror, an intoxicating sight. You moan lightly with every pass, a tantalising swipe, not enough to bring you real pleasure, just notching your want higher.
He finally takes pity upon you, angling his hips differently and driving into you; you, moaning at the invasion so deep and encompassing, rocked up onto your tiptoes. Every time he has entered your body, it's always the same: a force that steals your breath and makes your eyes roll. His hands are a firm grip around your waist as he withdraws slowly back, then surges in again, capturing your earlobe in his teeth as he does.
As your eyes meet in the mirror, you idly wonder how many other wives are watching themselves being fucked by a handsome husband like this; a bright weekday morning, birdsong wafting in on the scented breeze, body wrapped only in his shirt. You suspect none are quite so lucky.
You moan his name and arch back against him, wrapping your hands around his neck and watching yourself being taken, relying on him to keep your stance steady as he starts to fuck into you in earnest, large hands sliding up to cup your breasts, engulfing them in his warm palms.
Unable to stop the noises you make, each pass hitting all the spots inside that make your toes curl into the thick pile of the rug beneath your feet, your pussy clenching around his invasion, making him growl and move faster, taking you harsher, an onslaught that is as pleasurable as it is powerful.
His mouth is a breathy litany of praise into your cheekbone, your eyes fluttering closed to focus on the carnal moment - the sweat, the skin, the ragged breaths, the meeting of your bodies so primal and glorious, but he has other ideas.
“Look at yourself,” he purrs dulcetly, your eyes reopening to do as he asks, to watch this unrestrained moment of passion, to see the little marks blooming on your body from where his fingers dig into your flesh as he pounds into you now, a flourish of colour on your neck from his thorough attention.
You plead for more throatily, pushing back as best you can against his thrusts, wanting him to make you scream, uncaring of any audience inside or outside your townhouse, only craving the sweet, blissful release he always provides.
Abruptly, he wrenches open the shirt you wear, one button pinging forward and tinking against the mirror before skittering across the floor, your naked body framed by his crisp white shirt, the ruffled lapels tickling the sides of your breasts, catching sight of his handsome face in the mirror contorted in a passionate tempest.
Then one hand slides down your front, you feeling it rippling in your belly and seeing it in your reflection before you until those fingers slide between your legs and hook over your clit with a force that steals the air from your lungs, a sharp stab of pleasure that makes your knees buckle, him pausing in his motions briefly to brace your weight, keep you upright.
Then it is a blur as he restarts his motion, his fingers dance on your swollen pearl, slipping silkily over his touch as he grunts encouragements. It feels like you are circling for so long, so close to something mind-blowing, but then he flicks harshly with his fingernail and bites your neck, and you are hurtling. Everything is loud and quiet at once, no doubt your voice calling his name as you tumble over the edge, clenching hard around him as your whole body shatters and rebuilds in a blissful puzzle. Dimly, as you float, you feel his entire body tense, and with a roar, he follows you over, a warmth blooming inside you as he reaches completion. 
There are a few moments of panted breaths as you both recover from the intensity before he spins you around and sweeps you into his arms, carrying you back to bed. There, he lays you down gently and proceeds to turn you into a molten, quivering pile, mapping your body with his lips and fingers until you are begging for him again, which he more than obliges. So much so you are almost late for your social engagement.
If there are a few derogatory looks as you swan into the ladies' luncheon with a blissful smile and a burgeoning mark on your neck from your husband's amorous intentions, well, so be it. You wouldn't change it for the world.
And it is also most definitely not the last time you dress up in his clothes…
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Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies
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sinizade · 1 year
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I made a little clothing guide for some Dragon Age regions
Some may not be exactly the same as the references that appear in the game or in the concepts, but I wanted to give a little of my vision to the guide.
Ferelden
Ferelden is close to the Frostback Mountains and Orlais and as Leliana and Zevran once said, Ferelden is cold, so I thought it would be a cool idea to put on thick clothes with a lot of fur so the Fereldans can protect themselves from the cold.
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Tevinter
Dragon Age 4 is approaching and it's already evident that we're going to be in the Tevinter Imperium, so I discovered that a lot of Tevinter clothing was inspired by clothing from the Byzantine Empire
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Orlais
We've already seen in the game and in the concept art that Orlais is all about being flamboyant and flashy and what's more flamboyant and flashy than mid-1500s fashion?
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Antiva
Home to the two loves of my life, Zevran and Josephine, Antiva fashion is something I really love… The puffy arms, the breast-enhancing corsets, the leather vests, idk, I just like Antiva
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Nevarra
I don't exactly have much to say about nevarra, but I did some research and found some concepts that I thought were interesting, I also saw in some places that said that the kingdom was inspired by the traditional culture of Spain
So I'll leave two references here
One for the traditional clothes and one for what I imagine might look like Nevarra dress
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Frostback Basin
In Inquisition we can see that the clothes they wear are quite furry and well protected from the cold, so I think it would be a good idea to inspire some of their clothing in Inuit clothing
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The Dalish (1/2/3/4/5)
Well, for the Dalish I had MANY ideas, among them think about adding traditional clothes from some tribes, native Brazilian/American, African, Hawaiian, Inca, Aztec and Mayan
Remembering that I made a great mix of traditional clothes from several tribes and not just one, and that I also have 0 intention of disrespecting any of them, if I have put something wrong or disrespectful you can be free to alert me
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Orzammar
I knew little about Turkey, but when I went to research I ended up enchanted with some of the traditional clothes when I went to research about it and I thought that this style would go well with Orzammar
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Par Vollen
For Par Vollen, I had a bit of trouble finding it, but I think clothing a little bit closer to the ancient Egyptian style would be something interesting. The light fabrics, the golden jewels adorning the body, idk, I like that idea
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Rivain
I was doing some research again and found that part of Rivain's look was inspired by traditional clothing from Islamic Spain and Southeast Asia , so I looked around a bit for something to put here and add one more kingdom to the list
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I hope you people enjoyed! Soon I will add more realms as soon as I finish my research
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unluckiestmember · 6 months
Note
can I get the main characters of blue eye samurai with a innocent fem reader? I loved your Arcane innocent reader <3
Coming right up!
Blue Eye Samurai X Innocent Fem! Reader
Characters: Mizu, Taigen, Ringo and Ito Akemi
Tags: Friends to lovers, workers to lovers, brothel, overprotective boyfriend/girlfriend, yandere themes, Ringo being Ringo, fluff, toxic(?) and open ending.
Warning: SFW
A/N: I'm so happy Blue Eye Samurai is getting the recognition it deserves! Who would you date? I'd get with Mizu or Taigen.
Mizu
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“The stars are out tonight?... I can barely see them… It’s okay. At least I can see you… You’re beautiful…”
At first, Mizu found you to be as annoying like Ringo. You weren’t as annoying, but it was infuriating to travel with someone who was so fragile and couldn’t even defend themselves. She was surprised that with your demeanor you weren’t in a brothel or married to the next idiot of a samurai. She kept you at a distance, arm's length. But someway. Somehow. You slithered into her good graces and touched her heart.
When you two became a couple, Mizu began to treat you like a porcelain doll. If a man tried to touch you, their hand would be severed from their body in seconds. If someone bad-mouthed you, their tongue was cut out. Suddenly, you found yourself becoming a precious jewel to Mizu instead of a nuisance. During down time, she always checks up on you to see if you’re okay. Expect her to check if you have a temperature, if you’re hungry or thirsty. She wished deep down she could give up her mission to live a perfect life with you because that’s what you deserve. But promising such a thing is hard. At least for now, she has you and she will savor the time you both have together.
Taigen
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“That was pretty cool, huh? You know I can teach you a thing or two if you say please… Haha! You’re cute when you pout!”
Unlike Mizu, Taigen found you to be a breath of fresh air on his journey to assist Mizu. He enjoyed how you were so pure in a world that was getting colder by the day. For a second, he was fearful of pursuing anything with you because of his relation to Akemi. But as the days went by and word started spreading fast of his lover’s affairs, the more Taigen lost hope in any future he could have with her. However, he gained hope in a future painted for you two.
Taigen is a mix of a man child and an amazing boyfriend when you two become a couple. He will tease you whenever you are being cute unintentionally or when you mess up doing something. It’s only because he loves your reactions to his commentary. He will also teach you how to protect yourself, preferably with a dagger. If you master using one, he’ll have you use a sword, but even then he’ll be a bit concerned it’s too much for you. On the battlefield, if he’s not showing off and winking at you after every kill, he’s quick to protect you from any harm. Let’s admit it. Taigen can be a pain in the ass. But he’s a great boyfriend.
Ringo
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“You really think I can be a great samurai?! Then I’m going to train hard for both of us- I’ll be the greatest samurai for me and you!”
Ringo is a sweetheart. He didn’t expect to go on this journey to end up with a girlfriend, so when he scored one with you, you can imagine his surprise. He didn’t think much at first admittedly, but the more you kissed his cheek, nuzzled into his body on cold nights and threw him words of endearment, the more it settled. And boy did he adore having the title of being your amazing boyfriend!
With someone now to take care of, Ringo pushes himself to be an amazing samurai. He’s more persistent with his master to teach him how to use a sword and possess honor. He’ll even go as far as to ask Taigen to assist him if he can! Whenever he learns something new, he’s excitedly telling you all about it. If he finds anything interesting, he’s grabbing you gently to share it with you. If you’re looking for a ball of sunshine who’s both your friend and partner, look no further than Ringo.
Ito Akemi
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“My darling. We will make our own path, away from this prejudice, these men- Everything that’s ever hurt us. That’s ever hurt you… You will never be hurt again. I swear it.”
Akemi knows all too well how it feels to be used and thrown away for your body if not your status. So when she met you at the brothel, she immediately clicked with you. She found your personality to be contagious along with your laughter. She spent every moment staring into your eyes filled with life, gently caressing your smooth skin just to make sure you were still there with her in this hell. You were the most beautiful flower she’s ever seen. You were a flower she couldn’t afford to be tainted.
She didn’t know why she fell for a woman or if it was a curse, but she loved you. She loved you enough to run away and spend as much life as she could with you until she was found by her father. But even then, nothing could hold her down. She was a princess who laid eyes on a commoner she wanted. That she needed. And no one would get in her way of having them. Of having you. She would destroy everything and bathe Japan in flames if it meant she could keep you in her warm embrace. She’d turn everyone into her enemy if you could be her lover. She’d be the villain if you were her savior… And that’s exactly what she was going to do.
If you got any requests for Blue Eye Samurai, send them my way!
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3
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fragileheartbeats · 2 months
Text
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐄 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀
♡ ⭒ㅤ𓈒 dohaeriros daor ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ㅤ྄
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꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝑇𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑒𝑛 𝑀𝑒𝑛 𝑥 𝑆𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱
♡ㅤ𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶ㅤ۫ㅤ𝅄ೀ
— 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐, 𝘔𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳, 𝘑𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘐, 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘉𝘢𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯, 𝘈𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘐𝘐, 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘐𝘐𝘐, 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳, 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥, 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐𝘐 <3
˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
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ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑹 ─ ♕ . ♡𝆬
She was his queen, his one true love, A goddess in his eyes, sent from above. Her smile, her voice, her every move, He adored her deeply, his heart did prove. With every breath, he praised her name, For she was more than just a mere dame. Her beauty, her radiance, her soul so pure, Made his heart skip a beat, that was for sure. He treated her like a precious gem, For she was the one who completed him. Her love was a divine blessing, A gift that his heart would always be confessing. His love for her was like a burning flame, That never seemed to flicker or be tamed. He would go to any lengths to see her smile, For her happiness was what made his life worthwhile. He built monuments in her honor, For she was his queen, his forever love and lover. He wrote her love letters, filled with poetic words, Expressing his love for her, like beautiful birds. The people of the kingdoms marveled in awe, As they witnessed the king's love for his queen, raw. They envied the love they shared, so pure and true, For it was a love that only a chosen few could pursue. He showered her with gifts, sparkling and rare, For her, he would conquer any fear or dare. For she was his everything, his heart did sing, He would give anything to see her happy and gleaming. In her presence, he felt like a mere mortal, For she was a goddess, in his eyes, immortal. He promised to love and cherish her till eternity, For she was his true love, his one and only divinity. As the years passed and their love grew, The king and his queen, together they drew. A love story so beautiful, so pure and divine, Their love was worshiped, like a heavenly shrine.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑼𝑬𝑳 ─ ⸸ . ♡𝆬
Her beauty was a sight to behold, Her grace and charm, worth more than gold, He would lavish her with jewels and gold, But little did she know, he was cruel and cold. He would sing to her under the moonlit sky, Her smile was his only source of joy, But beneath the façade of love and bliss, Lurked his twisted ways, something amiss. He would shower her with sweet words and praise, But behind closed doors, her happiness would erase, For he was jealous and possessive, His love for her was obsessive. He'd lock her up in a tower so high, The only view, the darkened sky, For he feared she'd leave him, his love undone, But in truth, he was the one who had her on the run. He'd force her to dance in a fiery ring, Her feet scorched, her body aching, But he couldn't see her pain and tears, For his love for her had blinded him for years. He'd send her away to faraway lands, In hopes that she'd forget his cruel demands, But no matter where she'd go, His love for her would never let her go. His love for her was a twisted fate, For her, he'd do anything, even if it meant hate, For she was his goddess, his everything, But in his love, there was no healing. As she lay dying in his arms, He realized the extent of his harm, For his love had become a dark obsession, A beautiful tragedy, without a confession. The king loved his sister, but at what cost? For his love, she paid the ultimate cost, A beautiful soul, destroyed by his hand, Leaving behind a broken king, in a cruel and lonely land.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑺𝑬 ─ ✦ . ♡𝆬
He worshiped her, with every breath he took, For she was his light, in a world that was so shook. Her every move, her every smile, Was like a blessing, that made his heart worthwhile. He showered her with love, like petals from a rose, And in her presence, his heart would carefully compose. Words of adoration, that flowed from his soul, For no other could fulfill, his lover's role. He adorned her with jewels, fit for a queen, And treasured her, like a prized possession unseen. Her happiness, was all he ever desired, And in return, his heart felt so inspired. He would lay at her feet, like a humble servant, And gaze at her beauty, with eyes so fervent. For in his eyes, she was more than a lover, She was a goddess, that he would forever discover. He proclaimed her, as the queen of his wisdom, Her radiance, would illuminate the skies. And in her presence, he would feel so alive. With every passing day, his love grew stronger, For in her arms, he knew he belonged there longer. He would sing her praises, like a sweet melody, For she was his world, his everything, his destiny. He would kneel before her, with palms open wide, And pledge his heart, to her for all of time. For she was his goddess, his queen, his love, Pure and true, like an angel from above. The kingdom knew, of their love so pure, For in their eyes, it was hard to ignore. They were like two flames, that burned as one, With a love so strong, it could never come undone. And in the end, when their time had passed, His love for her, would forever last. For she was his goddess, his queen, his heart, And nothing in this world could ever tear them apart.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 ─ 𖤐 . ♡𝆬
He stands tall, a prince of the wild, With heart ablaze and passion filed. Her beauty like a dazzling light, Enchants his soul, a love so right. He worships her with every breath, His love, a never-ending quest. Her grace and elegance, a sight to behold, In her arms, his heart gently unfolds. She is his goddess, his heart's desire, Every thought, every dream she does inspire. He bows before her, in devotion and awe, His love for her, an unbreakable law. Her smile, like sunshine, lights up his world, Her touch, like magic, makes his heart twirl. He'll climb mountains and swim the seas, Just to show her his love, his eternal loyalty. He seeks her approval, her every nod, For her love, he'll go above and beyond. He'll slay dragons and fight with might, Just to make her happy, to see her light. She is his queen, his everything, In her arms, he feels like a king. Her love, a precious gift he'll never take for granted, For she is his world, his everything, his enchanted. In her eyes, he sees the reflection of his soul, In her heart, he finds his truest role. He'll love her till the end of time, For she is his goddess, his love sublime. As the winds whisper his name in her ear, He'll hold her close and wipe away her every fear. With every breath, he'll worship her divine, His beautiful sister, forever his, till the end of time.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐁𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 ─ ✿ . ♡𝆬
He walks with grace and noble charm, A prince so fair, without a qualm, But in his heart, there's no denying, His love for her, forever flying. With every step, his heart beats faster, As he approaches his beautiful sister, For she is his shining star, The one he loves, both near and far. Her beauty pure and unmatched, Her kindness, something to be matched, To him, she's more than just a sister, She's a love, like no other. With gentle hands, he cups her face, And gazes upon her with such grace, Whispers sweet words, for her to hear, For she's the one he holds so dear. Through the good times and through the bad, His love for her will never be sad, For she's his light, his guiding force, The one who's always his main course. He showers her with gifts and praise, For he's grateful for her loving ways, He'll do whatever it takes, To make her smile, for her heart's sake. In her eyes, he sees his future, A love so pure, there's no need to nurture, For it blooms like a flower in spring, And forever it will continue to bring. She's his queen, his one true cure, Her touch, her kiss, fills him with bliss, And he knows he'll never miss. Together they dance in the moonlight, Their love shining so bright, And in his arms, she feels so safe, For she knows he'll never waif. He'll continue to worship her, For she's his goddess, his everything and more, And in her eyes, he sees his true self, For she's the one that completes his wealth.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑫 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 ─ ✞ . ♡𝆬
His mind was filled with twisted love, For his sister who came from above. She was his everything, his world, Her beauty, his heart had unfurled. But in her eyes, he saw only fear, As he whispered words in her ear. He built a temple in her name, Where he would worship, proclaim. His love for her, his queen divine, But little did she know, it was her prison to confine. The king would offer sacrifices, In hopes of pleasing her, his vices. For her, he would do anything, Even if it meant causing suffering. The people feared the mad king's reign, As they witnessed his love turn to pain. For he would torture and destroy, In the name of his beloved, oh how he would deploy. But she did not love him in return, For her, he would have to yearn. Still, he clung to his delusion, Of her being his ultimate fusion. The madness consumed him, bit by bit, As he worshipped her, his love not legit. But to him, she was his everything, And he would do anything, even the most gruesome offering. The kingdoms plagued by his twisted obsession, As he ruled with no sense or discretion. The people cried out, for mercy they plead, But the king's love for her was all he would heed. In the end, it was not love that destroyed, But the king's obsession, his heart void. For his lover was nothing but a fantasy, And in his madness, he had lost all sanity. And so, the mad king's reign came to an end, But his love for her would never bend. For even in death, he worshipped her still, His obsession, a twisted love that would never fulfill.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐈𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑮𝑮𝑨𝑹 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 ─ * . ♡𝆬
He stood in awe, before her grace, His eyes adored her angelic face. Every night, he'd kneel at her feet, His heart filled with love, so deep and sweet. She was his light, in a world of darkness, Her touch, his only source of solace. Her voice, like music to his ears, In her presence, he had no fears. He worshipped her, like a deity, Lost in her beauty, he found his sanity. Her every move, a work of art, She held his heart, never to depart. But beneath her gentle facade, Lies a darkness, that he cannot dodge. She's a storm, brewing in disguise, And he's just a fragile, helpless prize. He tried to please her, in every way,But her love was fleeting, like a summer day. It burned bright, then faded away, Leaving him in darkness, to decay. He denied the truth, refusing to see, That she was not the goddess, he thought her to be. But a mortal, with flaws and scars, That he couldn't heal, no matter how hard. Yet still he worshipped, with all his might, For she was his drug, his source of light. Unable to break free, from her spell, He remained, in this hell. Days turned to weeks, and weeks to years, But his love for her, never disappeared. Even as she tore him apart, He couldn't help but worship her heart. In the end, he sacrificed it all, For a love that was destined to fall. But he couldn't bear to live, without her by his side, Even if it meant, he had to die. And so his story, came to an end, A tragic tale, of a love that couldn't mend. A man who worshipped, his lover till the end, But sadly, she was never meant to be his.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐑 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 ─ ♫ . ♡𝆬
Every morning, he'd wake up, With her face in his mind, He'd serenade her with love songs, And make her heart skip a beat, so divine. With every sunrise, his love grew stronger, He was her loyal knight, He'd shower her with flowers, And hold her hand, ever so tight. Her voice was like music to his ears, Her laughter, a symphony, He'd do anything to bring a smile to her face, For her happiness was his source of glee. He'd write her love letters, With every word, he'd pour his heart, She was his fairy tale come true, His one true love, they'd never part. He'd make her feel like a queen, In his kingdom of love, With her by his side, He had the strength to conquer the world above. Their love was a storybook romance, With each chapter better than the last, He was grateful for her presence in his life, For her, he'd go through the toughest task. So here's to the lovely prince, His love so pure and true, For his lover, he'd move mountains, Forever and always, they'll say 'I do.' And so, ends the tale of this prince, Whose love was like a never-ending dance, In their hearts, they'll hold each other tight, For their love was a beautiful, sweet and romantic delight.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑶𝑵𝑬-𝑬𝒀𝑬 ─ 𓆸 . ♡𝆬
His love knew no boundaries, no limits, no fear, His devotion to her, forever sincere. He was her protector, her shield, her knight, Obsessed with her safety, day and night. For she was his world, his very reason to live, His love for her, he would never forgive. In his eyes, she was the brightest star, Whose light outshone the sun from afar. Her every move, her every smile, Sent his heart racing, mile by mile. He was her shadow, her ever-present guard, A brother and his sister, forever entwined and scarred. But behind the beauty, lurked a darkness within, For his love for her, was an obsession, a sin. He would do anything to keep her by his side, Even if it meant controlling her, with every stride. She was his possession, his prized and cherished treasure, His love, a beautiful facade, with a sinister measure. His obsession consumed him, bit by bit, His love turned darker, with each passing minute. He would lock her away, in a gilded cage, For no one else to see, no one else to engage. She was his and his alone, no one else could dare, To take her away, from his possessive stare. But she, the princess, did not see, The darkness that consumed her Protector, with glee. Blinded by his love, she saw only his light, Not realizing, it would consume her, with all its might. She lived in a fantasy, a beautiful lie, Never once questioning, the darkness that lurked by. But as time passed by, he began to see, The error of his ways, his love's true identity. The sister he worshiped, had withered away, A mere reflection, of who she once was, in her heyday. His obsession had destroyed, the very love he craved, His beautiful love, now a hollow grave. His heart shattered, into a million pieces, As he saw the wreckage, of his love's diseases. His obsession had blinded him, from seeing the truth, His love had turned dark, no longer in youth. Regret and guilt flooded his troubled mind, His love's destruction, an eternal bind. His sister, now free from her gilded cage, Had lost her beauty, her light, her rage. For his obsession, had left her scarred, A mere shadow of herself, a love forever marred. She mourned the loss of what could have been, If only, the his obsession, had not consumed him within.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑼𝑺𝑼𝑹𝑷𝑬𝑹 ─ ☁︎ . ♡𝆬
She danced within his twisted mind, A goddess in his eyes and heart. Her touch, her presence, so divine, He worshipped her with every part. Her beauty was unmatched, they say, But her heart was cold and ruthless. He loved her in every way, But she remained cruel and heartless. His kingdom flourished at her feet, As she basked in all his glory. But her love was a cruel deceit, A never-ending tragic story. He built her temples, golden shrines, Where he laid his offerings bare. For her, he committed crimes, As his love became his despair. She reveled in his adoration, A puppet master pulling strings. But his love was her damnation, As she fed on his suffering. The people whispered, feared and cried, For their king had turned blind and weak. But he saw her, a goddess in disguise, Even as she made him suffer and weep. His heart shattered with every sigh, But he remained devoted to her. For she was his all, his reason to die, A sacrifice he gladly offered. And as his kingdom crumbled down, In her soft embrace, he lay. For her cruel love, he'd forsake his crown, And in her arms, he'd waste away. The king worshipped his lover, As a goddess, cruel and dark. His heart forever enslaved, forever, In her mercy, he'd left his mark.
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@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.
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snappysprinkledog · 2 years
Text
Yall wouldn't believe the number of men I've assigned to 'could talk to at a party but never a close friend' over the realisation they're not viewing me as a person but rather as a Girl
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darthannie · 8 months
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Hi! Can I request Tommy Shelby who loves to spoil his gf and she has a hard time accepting it all but he reassures her in a very loving and protective way (hope you get what I mean lol) thank you! :')
a/n: This is short but I hope I did your idea justice! I just want to see him smile 😭
grand gestures
Thomas Shelby x f!reader
Warnings: Tommy being happy and in love, Tommy’s love language is gift-giving I don’t make the rules, kissing
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You had been seeing Thomas Shelby for a while now and he was absolutely smitten. You have never met a man who doted on you as much as he did. Under his hardened exterior was a man longing to love and be loved.
On a particularly cold evening, you arrived home to a surprise. On your bed lay a beautiful new coat you had seen in the shops while out with Tommy. You must have stared at it in the window a little too long. He took that as a sign that you wanted it. You hadn’t even thought to go in and check the price tag, let alone purchase it. 
Tommy knew you weren’t used to receiving many gifts so he made it his personal mission to make you comfortable with it. He’d started with a gold bracelet. 
You had gasped when he took it out of the small box. “Tommy, you can’t. This is too much.”
“It’s not. Nothing is too much when it comes to you.” It was almost threatening. It sounded like a warning when he said it. It was foolish to underestimate how much you meant to him.
After the bracelet, he began giving you gifts periodically, even things you didn’t need or want. It was difficult for you to understand why he even bothered to give you all those things. Any other woman would welcome new dresses and jewels with open arms. Instead, you just felt like you didn’t deserve it. 
You stared at the coat on your bed. Its fur collar was sure to keep you warm, you thought. The gold buttons going down one side shone in the dim light of your bedroom. You held it up and gawked at it. You rubbed your face into the fur and smiled. You didn’t notice, but Tommy was standing in the doorway. 
“Why don’t you try it on?” His voice made you jump and you dropped the coat, putting your hands over your heart.
“Jesus, Tommy!” You sighed and laughed. He had been making a habit of being at your home before you were. He usually made himself known somehow, but tonight he decided to be a bit of a prankster. 
“Sorry, love, couldn’t help it.” He chuckled, walked towards you, and pulled you in for a kiss. He always kissed you like it was the last time he would be able to. 
He pulled away, “Do you like it?”
“I love it, Tommy, but” you looked down at the item of clothing, “you really didn’t have to. Really, you never have to.” You looked back at him and his arms were crossed, his head cocked to the right. He sighed and put his hands on your arms, caressing them. 
Looking into your eyes he asked, “Do you love me?”
You replied slightly irritated “I’ve never loved a man more, Tommy, and you know that. I just- I’m not used to you spoiling me like this.”
“If you’re gonna be my girl, you gonna have to get used to it, love. Now, are you my girl?” He was deadly serious. He was never controlling, but you were his and his alone. He wanted to make sure you understood that.
You looked him in the eye. “Yes. I am.”
His hands held your waist as he pulled you in closer. He kissed you passionately. A small moan escaped. It was intoxicating. After a few moments, you pulled away for air. He put his forehead against yours and gave you a chaste kiss. 
“You are worth more than anything I could ever give you. I wish I could give you the world,” he smirked, “the coat is the best I can do for now.”
You smiled softly at him. It would take some more work on your part but you knew that he did it because he cared.
“Thank you, Tommy. I love you.” You gave him a quick kiss. 
He pulled away with a smile and said, “I love you, too.”
He reached over to your bed and grabbed the new coat, holding it up for you. You quickly took off your old one and he helped you put your arms through the sleeves of the new one. The inside of the coat felt just as luxurious as the exterior. The fur brushing your neck was comforting and warmed your skin. You stood in front of a full-length mirror and took in your reflection. Tommy stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your body, holding you flush against him. You turned your head to make eye contact with him.
He whispered, “You look beautiful, my love.”
You had hearts in your eyes, “You make me beautiful, Tommy.”
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fangirl-dot-com · 4 months
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Across Every Universe
Well, this got away from me and then BAM - over 9k words. Uh, I will also be willing to pay for therapy if needed, oopsies. Anyway, please enjoy! I cried multiple times while writing this. All of my favorite things in life are rolled into this one fic.
Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! love you all <3
TAG LIST IS OPEN! - 14 SPOTS LEFT (please send me a direct message to be added)
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Earth 199999 
“Mr. Verstappen?” 
Max look up from the suit that he was currently working on. His eyes were blocked by his newest technological glasses that kept information in his fingertips. 
He wanted to roll his eyes. This new assistant really didn’t get the memo of Do Not Disturb. Man, did he wish Kelly were still here. Yet, there was that unspoken rule of not dating your boss, so Max was happier with her being his girlfriend rather than assistant. 
“Yes?” he muttered back, looking back down at the prototype reactor that should be 15% more powerful than the one he has now. 
“Mr. Leclerc is here to see you.” 
Max sighed as he threw the screwdriver down. “I told Charles that I was to not be disturbed.” 
The assistant shrank back but continued on, much to his annoyance. “He said it was urgent. Something about Case 89?” 
That got Max’s attention right away. He abruptly stood up, knocking down a few things on his desk as he rushed past his assistant. 
“Cancel the rest of my meetings today.” 
“But sir, you have a call with the president and a public appearance…” 
Max twirled around. “I said, cancel everything.” 
A large gulp sounded as he stared down at the incompetent helper. Maybe he could convince Kelly to come back. 
“Yes sir.”
With that, Max stalked down the hallway to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the button for the top floor. He checked his watch, making sure the technology was there. Specifically, the watch could change into a powered glove if he needed it. And he sure hoped he wouldn’t. The elevator sounded when he finally reached the floor. 
He was barely out of the small box when three pairs of eyes were on him. 
“Took you long enough,” a Monegasque accent sounded. 
With a roll of his eyes, Max rebutted, “My assistant doesn’t get the meaning of my orders.” 
A squawk of a laugh came from the corner. 
“You think that’s funny Lando?” Max quipped as he turned to his right. 
A curly hair Brit sat on a table, feet put together like he was stretching his inner thighs. 
“Everything is funny Max when you don’t have a stick up your ass,” Lando responded as he slid off the table. 
“This is not the time for laughs and games gentlemen,” another British accent sounded. 
Charles finally spoke again. “I apologize Director Horner.” He shot a stare at Lando. “It won’t happen again.” 
While this was happening, Max had taken a step to his computer. His fingers danced over the keyboard and brought up surveillance footage from downstairs. His eyes flickered up to look at his two “companions” and, well, his boss per say. 
The Monegasque was in his “get up” as Max called it. The multiple layers of ancient looking clothes disguised his figure. His red cape floated behind him and a green jewel seemed to glow behind its eye-like holder around his neck. 
Lando was dressed a skin tight red and blue suit. A web-like pattern covered its entirety and a spider lay resting on his chest. The face piece was tossed on the couch behind the table where he previously sat. His fingers twitched and flexed with lack of motion. 
Director Horner was draped in his regular black trench coat. Black shoes, black shirt, and black pants accompanied the fashion piece. His hair was kept and gelled. The most distinct item was a black eye-patch that covered his right eye. No one knew how he got it, but the three claw marks that started at his eyebrow gave Max a few hints. There was that old encrypted file that mentioned something about a flerken.
“So what are we working with?” Max questioned as the correct surveillance footage came up. On the screen was a clear box, with what looked like a person sitting in the farthest corner. Long hair covered their face as it was tucked into their knees. 
Charles did a motion with his arms. Golden strands danced around and flickered before they disappeared. Horner sighed and rubbed his brows as Charles let out a nervous chuckle. 
Lando rolled his eyes before clicking something on his wrist. A pull up hologram flashed from his specialized watch. 
There was a picture of a young girl and a list of lettering to the left of it. 
Max crossed his arms, eyes hard and cold. Charles let out a little gasp as he quickly gazed the list. 
Horner kept quiet. 
Lando began to read off of the floating screen. “Her name is Y/n L/n. Twenty-two years old. An orphan. Lived in Brooklyn all her life.” 
Max waved his hand in frustration. “We know this. I want to know why she flagged our radars and is currently in the most powerful containment cell we own.” 
If he had a desk with papers all over in front of him, the papers would be on the floor in one clean swipe. 
Lando sucked in a breath. “She killed 12 people in a freak accident.” 
A video started to play. 
The girl was surrounded by mass destruction. Smoke and fire filled the air. Bodies littered the floor. Yet, Max’s attention was on the black tendrils coming out of her back. They were a fluid type, moving around through the air like a fish in water. The girl seemed distressed as her hands were trying to stop the things coming out of her back. 
The tendrils suddenly stopped and disappeared back from where they came from her back. The girl stopped, looked around, and looked right at the security cameras. A moment later, one large black tendril flew from her hand and cut the video. 
Lando sighed when he put the hologram down. “She was found two days later, unconscious. The tendrils came out when the police found her. They seemed like they were trying to protect her. That’s when they called in Charles and I.” 
“They were difficult to deal with, but seemed responsive to another protection spell that I was able to use to transport her,” Charles concluded. 
Director Horner questioned, “Why was Norris called as well?” 
Lando decided to answer for himself, “Well it is my jurisdiction and I’ve dealt with something like this before. Remember Eddie Brock. This symbiote seems to be of familiar decent.” 
While the three others kept talk, Max continued to watch the scared girl. At this point a tendril had appeared and was almost trying to comfort you. 
“I’m going to go talk to her.” 
That shut the three up. 
Charles looked at him with a weird gaze. “You don’t know what she can do.” 
Max pointed at the screen. 
“She’s a little girl who is probably scared to death of who we are and what we might do to her. She’s probably thinking that she’s going to die in the next few days.” 
“I’ll go with. I’ve seen this before. I lost my friend because of this thing. I won’t let it take another life,” Lando confessed. A hard look on his face. 
“Then it’s settled. Lando lets go.” Max turned to leave, Lando hot on his tail. Charles and Director Horner stayed behind and continued to look at the file. 
The elevator took Max and Lando down to the locked floor. Max clicked a few buttons on his watch and used his fingers to wrap the glove around it. The whir of the machine sounded as it warmed up. 
“I will give a signal if I think the subject will engage. I need you up in the sky.” Max stepped out of the metal box. 
Lando nodded. “On it.” 
When the two got to the door, Max swiped a card. The door opened and Lando started to climb the walls. Once at a significant height, Lando stopped and hung on with one foot and one hand. His other hand was ready to shoot a web to swing in. 
Max slowly walked over. 
In the time that Max and Lando had taken to get down there, the tendril had disappeared. But to Max’s surprise, the girl was looking right at him. Without any fear, Max opened the door, stepped over, closed it, and sat down on the opposite side of her. 
“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered, visibly shaking. 
Max was taken back. 
“Excuse me?” 
You looked him dead in the eyes. 
“When do you plan to kill me?” 
Max looked with sad eyes. What had you gone through for that to be the first question to run through your mind? He shook his head. 
“I’m not going to kill you. No one is going to kill you. We have an offer for you actually.” 
It was now time for you to look confused. 
“There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people to see if they could become something more.” 
You inhaled. “To see if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight battles that we could never.” 
Max smirked. 
You shrugged your shoulders. “I’ve heard the speech on the news.” 
“What’s your name?” 
“Y/n. Y/n L/n.” 
“Welcome to the team kid.” 
From a small window above, the sunset cast a small sliver of orange light into the room. It illuminated the small space between you and Max, almost acting as a bridge from the past to the new present. 
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Earth 2113 
A grunt left Max’s lips as he threw another knife at the tree. He had been in this cove for a few hours. The stream provided him with much needed fresh water. He was able to take a mock shower, but it only reminded him of the sweet lake that he had back home. 
Home. 
It felt like a foreign concept. 
Weeks had passed since he had last been there. It was supposed to be his last year until he aged out. But really, the odds were never in his favor. 
His name was in there 68 times. 
Year before, his name had been in there even more times. Not once was his name chosen. But, this year it had been. 
How he wished to return back to his own trees, and use an ax instead of the knife he was currently twirling. 
A snap of a branch had him shoot up, knife raised ready to throw. His eyes darted around his utopia that might soon become bathed in blood. 
As he turned to his right, his eyes met big round ones. 
Your small frame was frozen in fear. The rushing sound of water had mocked you long enough. You were so thirsty. 
Max watched as you glanced at the river and then back to him. His tense shoulders relaxed once he realized what you were here for. 
He slowly brought the knife down, as to not scare you. 
“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” 
You did not seem convinced, but you seemed less scared. 
“Go on.” 
That seemed to do the trick as you darted over and started to fill a water bottle first. 
Smart, Max thought. 
He had seen you a couple times during training. The twelve year old from District 11. Small, witty, scared. Your eyes always seemed to be filled with tears during training. However, you seemed determined for someone who probably knew that they wouldn’t win the games. 
“Thank you,” you whispered after you had gotten your fill of the water. In your outstretched hand was an apple. “Got it from the big pile.” 
Max stared at it. His stomach said yes, but his head said no. The rational side said it probably wasn’t poisoned, but the back of his mind tried to convince him that it was. 
“I have another one. I can eat it first?” 
Max nodded at the offer and you took a bite. He waited for a few minutes, waiting for you to keel over. Except it never happened. You ate the entire apple happily. Max liked to wonder if you might have enjoyed an apple in school before all this. Maybe your hair would be put in two pigtails, done by your mother with a kiss on the forehead. 
He finally took the apple and his stomach and brain were both happy. 
This seemed to be their little thing that happened in the next few days. 
Max would wait by the river just before the sun started to set. And you would somehow show up with two shiny apples. 
He thinks at this point they might be from sponsors. He had one main sponsor, a man named Christian, who kept supplying him with different small knives and a few things here and there. The two of you would fill your water bottles and eat the apples. 
He had gotten you to giggle a couple of times, which lifted his spirits. You taught him which plants were edible, and he taught you how to properly throw a knife. He had given you one of his for safe keeping. But he really hoped that you’d use it if you the time came. Blood on your hands would kill his soul. Yet, he’d rather keep you alive then have you die. 
One night, you had fallen asleep on his chest while the two of you watched the late night slide show of who died that day. 
Apparently, there were four left including you and him. Your small puffs of air hit his face as he finally closed his eyes. He thought it was funny how you fit perfectly in his arms. His mind wandered to his girl back home in District 8. He wondered if he’d ever have a kid like you that would fit between him and her. 
The sound of a boom woke Max up. His arms curled protectively around air. When he noticed, he shot up. Taking no time, he grabbed his bag and knife that was attached to a long stick.  
“Kid?” he yelled out, voice straining. 
“Kid?” Another shout as he ran. 
“Kid?” Shouting, Max jumped over tree stumps and through brush. 
He stopped. 
“Kid?”
A whisper.
You stood with your back to him. His eyes glanced to what lie in front of you. 
A body was faced down. Max sighed in relief. That cannon was not for you. 
“Kid, don’t ever do that…again.” 
You had finally turned around at the familiar and safe voice. 
Max’s heart plummeted at the sight of tears in your eyes, red patch that was slowly growing on your t-shirt, and bloody hands. His backpack and stick dropped to the ground. 
A ring vibrated through his ears as he rushed to catch you before you fell to the ground. 
“Kid?” Max asked as you looked up at him. Your small hand reached up and touched his face, leaving a bloody trail on his cheek. 
“I did it just like you showed me Maxie. Now you can win.” 
Max smiled, with tears streaming down his face. The some that fell on you were wiped with his trembling fingers. 
“Of course you did.” 
Your big eyes stared up at him. “Are you proud of me?” 
Such a big question for such a small girl. 
“Always,” he whispered back. 
“Can you tell me that story? About the big lion and little lion? One more time?” 
He let out a wobbly breath. 
“Once upon a time, there was a big lion that lived in a forest. He had about 19 other lions, but he was really a loner. The other lions weren’t good friends with the big lion. He felt like he was miles away and no one could touch him.” 
He noticed your eyes start to slowly glaze over and he tried to keep going. 
“The lion was very lonely and sad, but one day, the world decided to give him a friend: a little lion.” 
The cannon boom stopped his story in its tracks. His arms curled around you as he wailed. He wailed and wailed, not caring who could see him. 
After a few moments, he gulped down his cries. 
“And the lion was finally happy with the cub. He didn’t need any other friends. As long as he had the little one, he’d be ok. And the big lion and little lion left toward the sunset and were friends forever.” 
He leaned down to give your little head a farewell kiss. 
A few hours later, Max was declared the victor of the 89th Annual Hunger Games. As the helicopter that carried him flew toward the sunset, Max let tears drip down his face freely. He knew his little lion was finally safe. 
Always walking toward the sunset, waiting for the big lion to join. 
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Earth 2230
“Ah Master Charles, glad you could make it,” Lando said snarkily as he sat in his seat. 
“Sorry, my padawan had many questions and kept me in the library for too long,” the man confessed as he took his seat next to Lando’s. 
“Oscar is the same way. What is with these trainees wanting to spend hours and hours in the library?” Lando’s head was leaned back in mock annoyance. 
Master Carlos, who sat across from the curly-haired man smirked. “You were like that once when you were my padawan Lando.” 
A scoff escaped Lando’s lips. He turned back to Charles. 
“How is Arthur handling everything?” 
Charles smirked. “He cried when we had to cut his hair.” 
“Well, he will get used to it,” a new voice piped up. The man had curly hair, like Lando’s, but a big gummy smile was plastered on his face. 
“Daniel, you don’t understand. He was inconsolable.” Charles’s hands raised in frustration. 
“Does anyone know why we were summoned? And where is Max and Master Horner?” 
The doors slid open and two figures walked in.
“We’re sorry for out tardiness Master Alonso. We had some trouble in the elevators.” Christian sent Max a knowing look that was returned with an eye roll. Max huffed as he sat down in his chair next to Charles. 
Once seated, Christian began to talk. 
“Well, I guess you’re wondering why we were all summoned here today.” 
A snort came from Lando, who quickly shut up after he received a glare from Carlos. He sank back into his chair. 
Christian continued. “Master Vettel and Master Räikkönen think they’ve found the chosen.”
Murmurs began to spread around the room. Annoyed with the added noise, Max was the one who spoke up. 
“Silence.”
The room quieted. 
Daniel was the one to lean forward. “How do they think they’ve found the chosen? It’s just a prophecy that has been collecting dust for centuries.”  
Christian rubbed his face. “All they said was that they felt a disturbance in the force when they visited Naboo for their diplomatic mission. They went to investigate and the force grew stronger the closer they got to the capital center.” 
A hologram erupted from the middle. It was a map of the center with an undergrown view as well. A red beacon signaled from deep down. Max’s finger pointed at it. 
“Underneath they found an illegal human trafficking ring that dealt with children with force sensitivity. When they got there, most of leaders had been knocked unconscious. In the middle was a girl. They said the force just pulsated off her being.” 
Christian picked up from there. “They’re bringing her in in just a few moments. She’s been debriefed about everything and is willing to join the cause.” 
Lando looked intrigued. “Who’s going to be her master.” 
Max leaned back in his chair. “I am.” 
A scoff echoed, but it wasn’t from Lando this time. It was from Master Hamilton. Max tilted his head and cast his gaze on the older Master. 
“Have something to say Lewis?” 
Lewis rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t someone more,” he paused, “advanced in their Master roll be given the chosen as their padawan?” 
Charles spoke up. “Like you?” 
“Yes,” came the answer from the man. 
Carlos spoke, “But you just brought on your own padawan. I don’t think poor George would be too keen on losing a Master so close to his choosing.” 
“But you shouldn’t give the chosen over to another child.” 
Max stood up in anger. “I’ve been through the trials. I am as much of a Master as you are.” 
“Enough,” a new voice roared as the doors to the room opened. 
They all stood up and sightly bowed their heads. 
“Master Vettel. Master Räikkönen.” 
Behind the two stood a teenage girl. Robes already adorned her body. Her hair was tied in traditional high braids, and a smaller, thinner one draped over her shoulder, showing her status.  
Kimi took his seat in one of the center chairs, but Sebastian stood in the middle with the girl. 
“As you all have probably been briefed by Master Horner, this is Y/n.” 
You took a step forward and kneeled before the council. Sebastian took a step around you and sat in his seat. 
“You may rise.” 
You did as you were told and took a minute to briefly glance at the council of masters. Each one of them winced at the force energy that seemed to just radiate off of you. Well, all of them except one. Your eyes met his electric blue ones. He sent you a comforting smile, which you didn’t have time to send one back before Sebastian spoke. 
“State your name for the council.” 
You inhaled shakily. “My name is Y/n L/n, from Coruscant.” 
Charles leaned towards you, elbows on his knees. “But you were brought here from Naboo.” 
You winced at the mention of the name. The masters could feel your distress and Max wanted nothing more than to elbow Charles for that insensitive question. 
“I was taken, Master, from my home planet and enslaved for the past three years.” 
Charles grimaced at your answer and leaned back, staying silent for the rest of the meeting. 
Kimi sent you a small smile before he cleared his throat. “We have brought you here to begin your padawan training.” 
That must have comforted you since the force wasn’t buzzing as much around you. The masters were now at ease. 
Max wanted to talk, since he was going to be your new master, but he was interrupted by what he thought was a grating voice. 
“So, are you the chosen one?” Lewis questioned, eyes slitted as he looked at you. 
Your ease was now slowly vanishing as you were under the scrutiny of the master. Your gulp was heard through the room. Lando felt bad as he once had been under the same gaze when he was a Padawan. He tried to send you comforting signals through the force. 
“I don’t know for sure if I’m the chosen. I’m just thankful to be alive at this point Master. And I don’t enjoy being picked apart before I even know what I am to begin with.” Your voice had risen in annoyance. “Sir.” 
Max smirked. He didn’t need to look around, he knew the others were also smirking or trying not to laugh. 
Sebastian spoke next. “Y/n, we would like you to pick your master.” 
Max wanted to jump and shout that you were already supposed to be his padawan, but Christian’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. 
Your tired eyes looked around the room. 
The master with the thick dark hair and tanned skin looked promising, but you could feel that he already had a want for another padawan. He gave off the same energy as the boy with similar hair that you had passed on your way here. His friends called him Rafael. 
Across from him, curly hair caught your attention. But you also felt that he already had what he was looking for. 
Same as the man with the short goatee and green eyes. You felt a familial energy reach out to someone, probably a brother close by. You wouldn’t want to separate them. 
The other curly-haired man showed you a smile that rivaled the sun. Once again, his force energy was already attached, but it seemed he had two. Not rare, but it was weird to feel the force branch like that. 
You had already asked Master Vettel and Räikkönen if you could be there padawan, but they had declined. 
The dark man in the corner was giving you mixed signals that gave you a headache. His energy was split. The one that was attached was waning at you looked at him, almost as if he was trying to break it. At that moment you decided not to choose him. Because if he wasn’t 100 percent sure with his chosen, how could he be sure with you. 
Your gaze finally landed on the blue eyed man that had sent you a smile. His force energy felt like it was vibrating at the same frequency as yours. Which helped it melt into a smooth rhythm. 
When it had stilled, you heart, mind, and force had chosen. 
Max felt it the moment your signature became still for the first time since you stepped foot into the room. 
The other masters, except one, smiled at you. They all stood and left one by one until it was just you and your chosen in the room. 
He stood up and walked toward you. 
Your head bent in a quick bow. “Master.” 
“You can call me Max.” 
Your brows furrowed. “Is that allowed?” 
Max only smirked. “Who cares. I’m your master now. My rules are your rules.” 
You flashed him a smile. “Ok…Max.” 
A grin crept onto his face. “You ready to save the galaxy kid?” 
With a nod, you two shook hands. 
The sunset filled the room as your silhouette became black shapes. Nothing would be better than the orange and pink casts from your home planet as you started your new life as “The Chosen” or better as “Master Verstappen’s Kid.”  
Master and Padawan Pairings:  Max and Y/n Charles and Arthur Carlos and Rafael (FAD)  Lando and Oscar  Daniel and Liam with Yuki  Lewis and George  Not mentioned – Alex and Logan  Former Christian and Max  Former Toto and Lewis  Former Jules and Charles  Former Carlos and Lando
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Earth 934
1991
Your eyes glanced around the big train as you tried to find an open seat. Your hands clutched your bag as you kept walking further and further toward the back. You sighed in relief as you finally noticed a room with no one in it. You softly opened the door and slid in. Both seats were empty. 
Taking a minute to breathe, you stared out at the vast country side that the train passed through. You almost fell asleep, but the sudden open and close of the car door made you jump. Your head turned toward the intruder. 
A boy, possibly older than you since he already had his robes, was leaning against the now closed door. He took a deep breath before his blue eyes landed on you. 
“Hi,” you said, not wanting the air to be filled with awkward silence. The boy did not reply, but he did go over and sat on the opposite bench of yours. Your folded your arms. He dared to interrupt your quiet and not respond. 
You opened your mouth to speak once again, but he beat you to it. 
“My name is Max. Sorry for interrupting whatever you had going on.” 
Your mouth closed at his confession. 
“What do they call you kid?” 
“I’m not a kid. I’m twelve years old.” 
Max rolled his eyes. “Which makes you a kid. You’re two years younger than I am.” 
“That makes you fourteen. And by technicalities, you would be a kid as well.” You huffed, not enjoying the teasing from the older boy. 
Max pouted. “Just tell me your name.” 
It was your turn to roll your eyes. 
“It’s L/n. Y/n L/n.” A smirk crept on your face and Max’s mouth dropped open. He leaned forward, almost as if to tell you a secret. 
He whispered. “Do you have, the, you know?” 
Your small hand came up and brushed your little bangs away. There, on your forehead was a lightning bolt shaped scar. It wasn’t like a cartoon shape as it had little bolts that stretched out across and down, but stopping at your eyebrow. 
“Wow,” Max managed to breathe out. “What house do you reckon you’ll get?” 
You shrugged. “Well, my parents died and I was adopted by a muggle couple and they were awful. So I really don’t know what the houses actually stand for.” 
Max looked angry for a moment. “Well, that’s bloody terrible for you have to gone through that. I hope that you’ll get into my house.” He pulled on his green and silver tie. “One of my friends, his name is Lando, is also in Slytherin. But then you have my best friend Daniel in Hufflepuff, Charles is in Gryffindor with his brother Arthur. You’d have to watch out for Lewis though in Ravenclaw, he’s a bit extreme.” 
You took a moment to absorb all of his words. 
“I think I’d like to stay with you or one of your friends.” 
The 14-year-old was elated at the statement. “We’ll see what happens.” 
1997
Your mind often went back to that conversation years ago. It was maybe the last time you ever felt safe anywhere. Hogwarts was supposed to be your home, yet here it lay destroyed. 
That fateful night you had not been chosen to be a part of the Slytherin house, but thankfully you were placed in Gryffindor with Arthur and Charles. They took care of you like a family should have. Max also stayed super close to the three of you. Whether it was going to Honey dukes, playing quidditch, or even making potions in Headmaster Horner’s class, the four of you were together. 
Your wand twirled in your hand as you sat on some broken steps. The once beautiful ceiling had giant holes in it that made way for the night sky. Tears streamed down your face as you pondered your next step. 
It had gone downhill so quickly. 
Lewis, as it turns out, had given your location away to Toto, who had wanted you dead since you were just a baby. He was the one to kill your parents and “bless” you with the mark on your head. The betrayal had sent shivers down everyone’s spine. 
Many people had been killed because of you. 
Charles and Arthur’s brother Jules had been hit by a stray spell. Their screams and wails were now permanently engraved in your brain. 
Max’s girlfriend Kelly, a nice Hufflepuff, had been attacked by a rogue werewolf. She was still alive, but barely. 
Your two Ravenclaw friends, Alex and Logan, were found under some rubble, hands clenched together as to share pain before death. You remembered how Oscar, another Ravenclaw who hung out with you and Lando, sobbed into the latter’s shoulder for hours after he found his blond best friend. 
Your friends had died to protect you and you had done nothing. 
At this thought, your mind was made up. 
Toto wanted one thing, and one thing only: for you to die. For the umpteenth time your mind wandered to his ultimatum that he had given you earlier that evening.
“Y/n L/n. I know that you know that you are trapped now with nowhere to go. Come to the forbidden forest tonight and I will cease all fighting on my end. The rest of your  friends won’t have to die due to your insubordination and fear. When you come, be prepared to die.” 
His snake-like voice had been broadcast through the minds of everyone. Before he had even finished, you took your leave, not wanting to watch as another family wept over a dead brother or sister. 
With shaky legs, you stood up and brushed your skirt. Your face showed your determination as you began to walk down the steps. But as your foot hit the actual floor, a body rammed into yours. 
“Kid!” A voice from farther away yelled, accompanied by quick footsteps. 
A quick glance at the hair that was attached to the body now in your arms let you know it was Arthur. Over the top of his head, you noticed Max and Charles running toward you. 
They were quick to also put their arms around you. 
Max maneuvered your face so that you were looking him in the eyes. 
“Kid, we have to go now before he decides to attack again. Arthur and Charles know a way out. Let’s go.” 
He thought that you had agreed as he turned around to leave. Charles followed him, and Arthur tugged on your hand, as if to lead you away. 
Yet, you stayed put and Arthur’s hand slipped from yours. 
“Y/n?” he asked, looking back with tears in his eyes. You gave him a crooked smile as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over. 
You tilted your head in the opposite direction. That’s when it hit the three men. You had already made up your mind. 
“No, no, no, no. You can’t,” Max choked out the last word. 
“I have to Max. I won’t let another one of our friends die because of me. I can’t risk Daniel leaving you or have Lando taken from Oscar right after Logan.” You looked at the two brothers. “I can’t let you two lose each other. I won’t let that happen to your mom.” 
Charles looked at your with sympathy swarming his green eyes. He slowly walked toward you and gave you a hug. While you were in his arms, his lips met your forehead. You knew that was going to be his goodbye. 
Arthur was next. He pleaded as he curled his arms around you. “Let me go with you. Let me walk with you. I swear I’ll leave before...before...” 
Your hand was slowly placed on his cheek as you shook your head. Another sob escaped his lips and a new tidal wave of tears left his and your eyes. “I can’t risk you. Please, stay with Charles.” 
Arthur begrudgingly nodded, but not before placing a light kiss on your lips. A small smile graced your face as you tried to kiss back through the tears. When the two of you parted, he looked down at you, a sad smile now replacing his frown. 
“Please try to come back to me.” With that, he turned around and left. Charles gave Max a knowing look before he took after his brother. 
It was just you and your oldest friend. 
Max came over and put his hands on your shoulders. He didn’t give you a hug, or a long speech, or a kiss on the forehead like he usually did when he had to leave you at the train station before every summer. He just looked at you before his eyes glanced at your wand. You thrust it in his hands. 
“Take care of them for me?” 
“Always.” 
“Tell Lando that he can have whatever is in my house. I know he was looking at my Nimbus RB20 the other day.” 
“Always.” 
“And Max?”
A hum answered as Max couldn’t find the strength to speak. 
“Watch the sunsets for me?” 
“Always.” 
Finally, you rushed into a hug. Max’s arms couldn’t get any tighter around your form. With one last squeeze, you broke the hug and turned away, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer. Your walk to the forest was quick, as you wanted this to be over as soon as possible. 
There, suddenly in front of you in all his ugly glory, was Toto. Lewis was to his side, looking rather ashen probably with fear. Even though he betrayed you, you tried to send a comforting smile his way. 
“Are you ready to die?” The snake-like voice hissed. 
“Yes.” 
There was a moment between the yell of “Avada-Kadavra” and when the spell hit you. There, you knew peace. Your body hit the forest floor with a thud.  
Arthur, who was still back at the castle suddenly inhaled sharply. Charles, scared for his younger brother’s sanity, knelt next to him. 
“What is it?” 
Max, Lando, Oscar, and Daniel all crowded around the younger boy. 
He could only whisper. 
“She’s gone.” 
There was no time for mourning as someone screamed out in the courtyard. The group of boys rushed out and what they saw made them stop in their tracks. Headmaster Horner, who had been taken a few days ago, now carried your limp body for all to see. 
“Y/n L/n is dead!” 
“No!” your friend Lily screamed, but was quickly held back by Oscar. 
“Silence. Foolish girl,” Toto hissed. 
Arthur turned and put his head on Charles’s shoulder and wept, not caring anymore. 
“She’s not dead.” Everyone’s heads turned to Max, who had his wand pointed at the dark wizard. “She’s alive,” he gulped, “in all of us. She wouldn’t want us to give up. She’d want us to continue, even when everything seems dark. And I won’t let her die in vain.” 
Toto cocked his head. “Well then, you’ll die along with her.” He pointed his wand at the blue eyed boy, except a large explosion knocked him down. Your rolled out of Christian’s arms and ran toward Max, all while shooting a spell at the downed wizard. 
The students and teachers all ran in different directions. The battle was back on. 
Instead of running away, Max ran to you. He met you halfway and held you at a distance. 
“You came back Kid.” 
“Always.”   
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Earth 7521
“When will he get back?” 
Logan stopped his machete in the air. You and he had been out in the sun for a couple of hours, trying to carve poles for the new housing system. 
“He’ll get back before the sun goes down.” 
“But what if he doesn’t?” Your gaze was cast at the big wall with the giant gap in the middle. What went beyond was your guess as you hadn’t been there, and technically you weren’t allowed to go. You’d chosen to be a woodworker, not a runner. 
Logan sighed. He had sworn that he’d take care of the new greenie, but this isn’t exactly what he signed up for. 
“Max always gets back right at the gate closes. Has done every day since I got here. He comes in with Alex and they’ll go to the map room.” He really tried to ease your conscience. You had all but attached yourself to the boy since you got here. He couldn’t blame you since Max was really the first one that you saw. He was the same with Alex, as was Oscar with Lando and Max with Daniel. 
Your brows furrowed. “But Alex just got back and Max isn’t with him.” 
Logan dropped his machete and it thumped in the grass. His head jerked over to where you were looking. There, the Thai runner had just crossed the threshold of the giant gate, but the Dutch runner was nowhere to be found. 
“Stay here,” he demanded, but really didn’t expect you to obey. Anything that had to do with Max, you would find out one way or another. A large groan came from the giant wall, signaling that it was about to close. 
Logan hastened his pace and heard your footsteps try to keep up with him. As he got near, Lewis and Lando both crowded around Alex. The blond picked up on their conversation. 
“Where’s Max?” Lando questioned as his eyes kept flickering between the hunched over runner and the wall. 
Alex sucked in a breath. “We got separated. A griever was out in the open.” 
Multiple gasps came from others as a crowd had formed. 
Lewis’s eyes widened. “But grievers don’t come out in daylight.” 
Alex had a sullen look. “I know.” 
Lando cast another glance at the metal gate that let out another groan and a shake. This time, the doors were slowly closing. 
“So we’re just going to leave Max in there?” Lando gestured. 
Lewis looked down at the ground and nodded. A silence went over the group as they were now preparing to mourn the loss of one of their family. 
Logan’s heart sunk. You must have been devasted. He turned around to where you were supposedly. 
“I’m so s-…Y/n?” His head whipped around trying to find you. His heart sunk even further as his eyes finally found you, right in front of the closing doors. “Y/N!” 
Now you had everyone’s attention. 
“Greenie!” Lewis yelled. 
You simply turned your head and looked at the leader. “I got to go save Max.” It was as if you were explaining a simple toy to a toddler, like it was a matter of fact. 
“Max is gone Kid. We can’t lose you too,” Lando tried to negotiate and distract you as the doors got closer and closer together. 
The doors were so close to closing and Lando thought he was successful. Well, until you bolted and squeezed through the slit. Multiple boys called out for you but it was too late, the doors closed. Logan ran to the metal wall and hit his fist on it multiple times. 
On the other side for you, it was silent. An eerie type and not comforting. You tried not to get distracted at the maze-like sequence of walls that stood before you.
Right. You needed to find Max, and fast. 
Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you silently ran and didn’t call out Max’s name. It felt like hours before you finally found him. Your eyes watched as his tried to curl up more, to make himself smaller. 
“Maxie?” you whispered. 
His head shot up, eyes wide as you walked closer to him. 
“Kid? What the hell are you doing here?” he whisper yelled back. You took a seat next to him. 
“I couldn’t leave you out here alone.” 
Max let out a sigh. “Well, now we’ll both be dead by morning.” 
You looked down at his bloodied leg. “What happened?” 
“Alex and I were mapping like always when a griever jumped out. They’re not supposed to be out in the daylight, but they were. I ran right and Alex went left. I thought I got away but I tripped. I think my ankle is sprained or broken. Couldn’t make it back to camp.” 
You absorbed the information before you stood up and took a vine down from the wall. The middle was stiff like a branch and the smaller vines attached to the leaves were bendable. You quickly made work of Max’s ankle and tied the stiff vines to his leg. 
“This should give you enough support so we can get back.” 
Max looked at you with wide eyes. “You’re good at this. Why didn’t you become a medjack?” 
You giggled as you helped him to his feet. “I couldn’t stand the tension between Nico and Lewis anymore and Logan seemed inviting enough.” 
That got a little laugh out of Max. 
The two of you made your way to the gate where you camped out all night. 
“Thank you kid. I’d be dead without you,” Max mentioned when the doors opened the next morning. 
“I know. Look Max, the sunrise!”
“Thanks kid. You know they’re my favorite.”  
Two years later
Those days in the Glade were much better than what you’d been through in the past two years. From running through the desert and being chased by zombie people to now sneaking into the giant headquarters to find some type of cure. 
Your eyes were now on Max as his head swayed back and forth. He didn’t look good as his face was drenched with sweat. 
It had been about a week since he told you that he had been infected. You had cried and cried, promising to find a cure. But that promise seemed to be so far away as you were nowhere closer to finding it.
“Hold on Maxie,” you whispered as you tried to keep him upright. His head was now perched on your shoulder as you continuously looked up in the sky, looking for the rescue helicopter. Charles had disappeared once someone told him that his blood was the cure. He had promised to be back quickly, and that was an hour ago. 
Max didn’t have much time left. 
A thumping in the air caught your attention as you gently placed him back against a wall. Black goup now started to run out of his mouth. You gently wiped it away before placing a kiss on his forehead. 
“Here they come Maxie. Just a few minutes more.” You stood up and turned to try to wave the helicopter in your direction. Your smile grew as it now began to get closer and closer. 
“Max we’re going to be…ok.” As you now faced Max, confusion and fear glossed over your figure as he now stood a few feet away from you. His body twitched as his head swayed back and forth. 
“Max?” 
Your voice seemed to snap Max out of whatever trance he was in as he sudden rushed toward you and knocked you down. You thought this was it as Max’s hands harshly roamed and grabbed at your body. His hands stopped as he found your gun. 
He was quick to cock it and bring it to his head. Your hands were quicker and you knocked it out of his hands and it slid across the floor. Max growled down at you and jumped to go get it, but your hands yanked him back. You grabbed the gun and pointed it at your friend. 
Your heart broke as you looked at his sickly nature. His eyes cleared to that pretty blue that once always covered his eyes with kindness swarming in the storm. But now, he looked at you with a pleading nature. 
“Please, Kid. Please,” he begged, but you couldn’t pull the trigger. 
The clearness was quickly wiped away as you finally lost your friend. He managed to get up and sling the gun out of your head. Somehow, he had gotten a knife from his pack on his body and he came swinging. The two of you fought for a moment, before Max suddenly went still. 
Oh. 
Why did he stop?
Max stumbled back and you finally saw. 
Oh.      
Your lips quivered as you tried to slow his fall to the ground. You gently laid his head on a rock. He wheezed as he looked up at you. The helicopter wind picked up and your hair started to dance around your face. 
Max closed his eyes and his chest rose, fell, and froze. 
Your scream was silenced by multiple yells and the deafening sound of the chopper that had finally come. Hands grabbed your arms and ripped you away from your friend. You tried to fight and claw your way back, but the team was too strong.
They sat you down in a seat and allowed you to just cry. 
Your eyes caught glimpses of orange and yellow out the open door of the flying machine. 
Max would have loved the sunrise.  
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Earth 1217 
“Y/n!” The yell of your team principal caught you attention. 
“Yeah?” You set down your race notebook and walked down the office hall. Yes, you hated office days, but at Red Bull you wanted to go over everything that involved you. Call it a bit of a prima-donna attitude, but you weren’t a five time champion or Red Bull’s golden girl for nothing.
“I wanted to take you out to the track. The new recruit is doing his testing laps for next season,” the older Brit mentioned as you joined him in walking down the hallway. 
You turned your head. “I though Daniel was up for Checo’s seat?” 
Christian sighed and looked down as the two of you walked passed the trophy shelves. Most of them were from you. 
“Daniel said he didn’t feel comfortable enough to handle our car. Maybe in a few years after he gets back in the groove in the Alpha Tauri, but not now.” 
You snorted. “Guessing Charles is as comfortable as ever being the Prince of Mercedes?” 
“Ah yes, your childhood friend-slash-rival did ask me to send his kind regards and told you to watch out for any puddles.” Your eyes rolled at the last statement. 
“All right, talk to me. Who else did we ask before you texted me that only said ‘I found him’.” 
Christian sighed as he backed his car out. The two of you had gotten to the parking lot in no time and were now headed to the track. 
“Well, Lando just renewed his contract with Ferrari, same as Oscar. Lewis, well, he never responded and McLaren never got back to us. Most of them aren’t really looking to be second to you.” 
“They’re just mad they’ve been dominated by a woman for five years straight and will be for another three. Maybe after that, someone can be number one.” 
The car jerked as he parked it. You stepped out, tennis shoe hitting the ground. They really went well with what you normally wore: skinny jeans, a Red Bull Polo, and your number 1 hat. 
The roar of the RB18 caught your attention as your eyes watched it zoom by. A bright yellow helmet caught your attention, but it went around the corner too quickly for you to watch. 
Once at the mock garage, you met up with Mitch and junior race engineer GP. Apparently the new recruit had wanted to keep his engineer with him through everything. Which you understood as you brought Mitch over with you after your McLaren days. 
“So is this Sargeant? His second place in the championship looked promising, but he was a bit slow,” you mentioned as your sunglasses covered eyes looked around. An angry looking man stood in the corner, bit headphones on his ears. 
"No. It's not Sargeant. His name is Max Verstappen. He jumped from F3."
Your eyes narrowed at the big angry man who seemed like he wanted to take a fork to a mechanic. You leaned over to Christian. “My abusive-parent radar is going off. I want him out of the garage.” 
Christian once again sighed. “I can’t throw our new driver’s father out of the garage on a hunch.” 
You took a sip of your Red Bull. “You did it with my parents.” 
“Y/n, they hit you in front of me. I had proof. Just wait a bit and we’ll watch him.” 
You huffed. “Fine, but he doesn’t come to any debriefs or meetings.” 
“Perfect.” He clapped his hands and your attention was now placed back at the newbie’s times. He was driving just a bit slower than you, but they were marginal tenths and hundredths behind. 
Mitch, being the senior engineer, clicked a button. “All right Verstappen, bring it back in.” 
“Got it. Thank you!” 
You hummed. “Polite kid.” 
Your RB18 pulled up and a scraggly kid jumped out of the car. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as his dad got off his ass and started to come over. Not wanting anything to happen, you made your way to the boy, cutting him off. 
He had just taken his helmet and balaclava off when you reached him. Christian came up and joined you. The boy finally noticed you and looked at you with a gaze of amazement. 
“Max right?” you questioned and held out a hand to the Dutch kid. 
He nodded, still trying to take in the sight of his role model right in front of him. That’s when he noticed that you were still waiting for him to take your hand. He yanked off a glove and shook your outstretched hand. 
“Max Verstappen.” 
“How old are you?” You took another sip of your Red Bull and offered Max one as well, who took it quickly. 
“I’m nineteen, but I’m turning 20 at the end of September.” 
You had a fond smile on your face. You knew what it was like to be thrust into this life at a young age. Hell, Christian took a chance on you when you were just seventeen. 
“Who’s your favorite driver?” Mitch questioned, standing behind you. You knew she was teasing the boy as his face got red really quick. 
He mumbled, “You.” 
You had a shit-eating grin on your face as you look down at the boy. You went to say something else, but he beat you to it. You had a feeling that he might do it more often, but you didn’t mind. 
“I, uh, just wanted to say that I’m perfectly fine with being number two driver. I know you’re on a mission to make it to 8 championships. And I’d like to help you do it.” 
Your heart may have melted at the confession. 
“Well, once I get my 8 championships, let me tell you what. We here at Red Bull like to be record breakers, so I’ll help you make it 9. Sound like a good deal?” 
Max’s face lit up at the semi-promise of not just one championship, but nine! 
“Sounds good.” A giggle left his lips.
The sun was setting as you were all called for a brief meeting so that Max could sign the contract. Orange and yellows blended in together and bathed the two of you in its glory. 
“Ok then, welcome to the team kid!” 
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Earth 1218 – Present Earth 
TikTok had become your addiction when you had spare minutes in your busy life. Videos passed by so quickly, you sometimes didn’t even register what it said. Thankfully though, you managed to not accidentally like anything that could harm your career before it barely got started. 
One trend seemed to be very popular at this time. Your fingers would swipe through the photos of various TV and movie characters. The pictures on each slide had the same captions. One being “Do you think we’re together in every universe?” and the other “I sure hope so.” 
You’d already asked Arthur and he just rolled his eyes. 
“Of course we would be. I think you’re stuck with me wherever you are,” he had told you. 
Yet, there was one driver who you really needed to ask. You had already seen versions of this made for multiple driver pairs. The ones of Charles and Max, Oscar and Logan, and Lando and Daniel always made you cry. You couldn’t help it. 
But, the ones of you and Max always made your heart happy. You knew that you weren’t the easiest to take care of and you came with baggage. However, Max never made you feel bad about it: he did the opposite. Many times, he made you forget all the bad things in your life by just being there. 
You sent him one of the generic ones from someone’s random account.
Little Racer 
https.www.tiktok./KID89.192&MAX0133/ Do you think we’re together in every universe? 
It took him a few minutes to respond since he was often busier than you were. The season was coming to an end, and his fourth championship was in his grasp. 
Big Racer 
I’m sure of it kid. Can’t get rid of me that easily. 
Little Racer 
And you still probably type like a grandpa in every one too! :P 
You laughed out loud when three middle finger emojis followed your text. Where you were sitting in the living room of your Monegasque apartment, the sunset caught your eye. You smiled as the rays nearly blinded you, but you were fine. The warmth spread across your cheeks as the rays kissed your face with softness. 
You didn’t know what other versions there were of you. You honestly didn’t care. Because as long as you had Max, you’d be just fine.
 
Across every earth, galaxy, and universe you’d find yourself dreaming of a life you didn’t live, but could only imagine how good everything would be in the end. 
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