#but it's floating around in the back of my mind

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart: Chapter 25 (Human!Alastor x Married!Reader)

CW: Angst, blood, manipulation, Alastor being a murder baby AN: I hope my fellow Americans survived their Thanksgiving with minimal family fighting and all those who didn't celebrate around the world had a great Thursday. Prev Masterlist AO3 KoFi

Alastor parked his car at the edge of the park, under the shade of a large tree. It was late and the odds of being seen were minimal. Even so, it was better safe than sorry. The heavy canopy blocked much of the light from the streetlights, few though there were. 

He waited for a few moments, head resting against the back of the seat, eyes looking up and out the windshield. In the distance, the roof of your house peeked up from the treeline, whispering dark promises. For a few moments longer, he sat in the holy silence where late night and early morning danced together. 

The slam of the car door was loud, shattering the fragile silence of the night as he stepped away from the still car. He walked slowly to the small pond as he ran a hand through his hair. Curls spiraled out of the locks, tangled around his fingers as he pulled hairs free with the nervous action. Sweat and time were winning the battle against the effort he had put into pulling the strands straight that morning. 

It was alright. You seemed to like the curls. 

Kneeling at the edge of the pond, he splashed water on his face, scrubbing at the dried blood on his hands and neck blindly. He knew he would miss spots. There wasn’t much he could do about his shirt, but that was alright, too. It would all be alright, soon. 

He just wanted to see you. That was the thought that ran through his mind as he walked casually through the park. That���s all he needed, he told himself as he pushed branches and bushes out of his way. From a distance was fine, he just needed to see that you were alright. 

He could put you down, leave you alone as long as he knew you were alright. He just needed to know you were alright. 

Bark bit into his hands as he lifted his weight from the ground. Climbing the apple tree in the dark while drunk wasn’t as easy as he expected. At times, he nearly fell to the ground. Perhaps he deserved to fall, land on a root wrong, and break his back. 

He would be caught then. You would know what he was, what he really was. The world would know. Perhaps that would only be right, a fitting punishment for the pain you had suffered because of him. 

Eventually, he made it up to that thick horizontal branch he thought of as his. Each breath came out in a huff, labored from the exertion on top of the alcohol. Resting his head against the tree trunk, Alastor ignored the way his hair snagged and was pulled by the rough surface as he took long, slow breaths. 

The house was dark, quiet. Its occupants were asleep, as he should be. He had work tomorrow. Today? Yes, today at this point. There was time still. He could make it home and take a nap. He’d be rough, but he could make it through the night. 

Alastor closed his eyes as he listened to the sounds of the night, resting his eyes as he lounged perched above the rabbit hole stashed with letters he knew you were reading but not responding to. 

His eyes closed with a flutter as he thought of you. Such a sweet soul you were, pulling away from him to protect him. Didn’t you know? It was his job to protect you. That’s what a man does for the woman he loves. 

Love. That was the thought that floated through his rye soaked mind as a light sleep overtook him. 

You poured a mug of coffee for Laurence, setting it on the table where he read the newspaper. It was a rare morning when he didn’t leave early. He was grumpy and the quality of the coffee didn’t help his mood, but you did your best to focus on the way the sun peeked between the clouds and the chirping of the birds. 

“How can you fuck up something as easy as coffee,” he grumbled, and you wished he would have just went to the cafe on his way to the office. 

For a moment, Alastor fluttered across your mind and you wondered if he would think you fucked up the coffee. It was a thought you shot down with a pang of pain. It didn’t matter what Alastor would have thought, Alastor was not your husband.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, turning from the sink and starting to walk back to the table. “I’ll make you another one.” 

You made it halfway across the small kitchen before Laurence picked up the mug and, after a moment of thought, launched the steaming contents at you. Most of the coffee splashed across your front, the apron and dress under helping protect you from the scalding liquid, but pain still cut through nerves where it splashed up onto your neck.

“Laurence!?” you cried out, darting backward and crashing into the sink. 

Your husband spit venomous words at you, lost to the pounding in your ears. He disregarded all the renewed effort you had put into being a good wife for him. 

It wasn’t fair. Tears fell from your eyes as you watched him stand, waiting to see if he would leave or come after you with something far worse than his verbal assault. 

You didn’t know tired eyes watched from the distance. His first real sight of you while he blinked sleep from his mind was that of coffee splashing onto you. While Laurence walked out of the room and you crumpled to the ground in a puddle of coffee, you didn’t know how close Alastor came to climbing from the tree and ending a life in broad daylight.

Instead, as you stood, he watched you grab towels to mop up the liquid. As the car in front of your house roared to life, he slipped down from the tree. His body was stiff, and he was rather thirsty, but that was alright. He was glad to have sobered up, at least mostly sobered up.

He had gotten to see you. That was supposed to be enough. He wanted it to be enough. He needed it to be enough. He had gotten to see you. 

Alastor watched as you disappeared out of the kitchen while he stalked through the back garden. He saw the light in your bedroom illuminate the room still cast in morning shadows. Would you look out the window, Alastor wondered as Laurence’s car drove away? Would you see him? 

You didn’t. He was fairly sure of that as he stepped onto the back porch. The knob failed to turn under his hand, though he hadn’t even been aware of reaching for it. Locked, that was alright.

He was wrong, he had thought he needed to see you but that was alright. He could be wrong, sometimes. He was a humble man. What he actually needed was to hear your voice. 

Alastor smiled as he pulled the pins from his sock. The door was old and the lock simple. He made quick work of opening the door, hardly having to give the task much thought at all. 

It was a good thing you locked the door. There was a serial killer on the run.

Closing the door behind him, he locked it before making his way through the kitchen and into the living room. Laurence had left the front door unlocked, Alastor was dismayed to find. With a flick of his fingers, he locked that door as well.

Laurence was going to get you hurt if he didn’t take better care of you. It was bad enough that he was hurting you himself but to be careless with your safety on top of it? Disgusting. Sloppy. 

The stairs creaked as you walked down them. Alastor moved to the wall, hoping to be out of sight as you turned into the kitchen. You wore a burgundy house dress, and he liked how it looked on you. Much better than the bright sunny yellow you had been wearing before the coffee incident. 

His eyes cut down to the dark bruise above your elbow, on display thanks to the short sleeves of the dress. Surely you’d throw a shawl over your arms if someone knocked on the door to hide it. In the safety of your home, though, you had no need. 

As you stepped into the kitchen, he could see the angry red splotches on your neck, left by the hot coffee. Oh, how he longed to soothe the inflamed skin with soft kisses. 

He followed you, leaning in the doorway as he watched you grab the towels from the ground, sniffling. Were you crying because of the pig’s actions? Didn’t you know it wouldn’t make a difference, shedding tears for him? 

“He’s not worth crying over.” Alastor said, transatlantic accent coloring his words, brightening them with the day. 

You screamed, whipping around with wide eyes to face him. 

“Alastor!” You clutched your hands to your chest, “Mr. Moreau?!” 

Your eyes ran over him, taking in the feral sight. His hair, something wild between curly and straight, was a mess atop his head. Red stained his shirt, smeared his skin and dotted his face. 

“Never that name for you,” he said as he closed the small distance between you.

“What happened to you?” Before you thought it through, you rushed up to him, acting on instinct and impulse, actions doing nothing to reinforce the distance you had insisted on in your last letter. 

Fingers ran over his face, rough stubble scratching the pads before your fingers ghosted down his neck. Your eyes run over bloody sleeves and splotches on his shirt. 

“I went hunting.” He answered honestly, “I’m alright.” 

“Hunting?” you stepped back, coming back to yourself. “It’s early morning yet? And why are you in my house?” 

“I came in the door.” His head cocked to the side. “I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. Went to Mimzy’s and had some drinks. Then went hunting.” 

“At night?!” You stepped back, and he took a step forward as he laughed, that easy free sound you had dreamed about too often since you wrote your last letter. “While drunk?” 

“Probably not my best judgement call,” Alastor admitted. “But it turned out alright.” 

“Did it, now?” You scolded, heart beating in your chest as Alastor continued to advance on you. “You’re covered in blood.” 

“I wanted to see you,” Alastor said.

“You need to leave.” Your back hit the wall. “My husband will be back for lunch.” 

“I needed to see you.” Alastor’s accent wavered, in and out as he looked at you with those warm brown eyes, pleading with you. “Needed to know what I did wrong.” 

“You didn’t- Alastor.” You closed your eyes and let out a breath. “Mr. Moreau,” He groaned at the sound of his surname on your lips. He never wanted to hear you say it until it was yours, as it should be. You continued talking just the same. “Our relationship was improper. I am a married woman. If we continued, it would have ruined us both.” 

“Not Mr. Moreau.” Alastor pressed, his hands coming to rest on the wall on either side of your shoulders. “Please, don’t. Don’t call me that. Don’t you love me?” 

“I do,” you said before you thought twice, pressing your hand against your lips as if you could somehow stuff the words back in. “Don’t you see? If we’re caught, everything you worked for is gone. I- It would be selfish for me to do that to you.”

“Then we don’t get caught. We hide,” Alastor said, elbows buckling as he fell closer to the wall, cutting the distance between you in half. “Ma cherie, I don’t need you to protect me. We are in love, are we not? The risk is worth anything, everything, for but even a moment in your presence.” 

“Alastor, I-” you noticed Laurence’s briefcase sitting by the table, heart thundering somehow louder in your ears. “Laurence is going to be back anytime now. He forgot his bag. You need to go.” 

Reaching up, you braced your hands on Alastor’s chest and attempted to shove him away. He moved less than an inch. When you couldn’t push him away, you stopped trying to, though you knew it was vital that you kept trying. Your hands lingered on his chest, feeling his heart pounding rapidly against his ribs. The rye he had been drinking still tinged his breath as it washed over you. 

“Don’t you love me?” Alastor’s voice was broken, naked.

“That’s why we can’t keep doing this.” Tears spilled down your cheeks. “I love you too much.” 

Outside the house, a car’s engine sounded in the distance. 

“It’s why we must.” Alastor challenged, noting the sound as your body tensed. “I will keep us safe.” 

“You can’t,” you pleaded, heart shattering in your chest. 

“I have so far.” Alastor pressed as the car drew closer. “If not for him. If not for your marriage vows, would you have picked me?” 

“I can’t go back in time.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Alastor whispered. “If tomorrow you woke up and Laurence was nothing but a memory? Would you pick me? Want me?” 

The car pulled in front of your house, engine idling. “Alastor, he’s back. You need to go.”

“Not until you answer me,” Alastor whispered. “Would you pick me? Would you want me then? If the Shadow Butcher took Laurence tonight?” 

“Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, Alastor. Damnit, you need to go-” The car door opened and then slammed shut. 

“Then kiss me,” Alastor demanded, face hovering just over yours. No part of him touched you, yet you felt suffocated, wrapped up in him. 

“He’s coming.” You could hear Laurence’s footfalls outside on the walkway. It shouldn’t have been possible, but you swore you could. 

“I’m not leaving until you kiss me.” Alastor whispered, blood splattered face so close to yours. “You want me. You pick me. Then kiss me. Prove it. Show me. Please?” Alastor’s words came in a whispered rush, each statement coming faster and faster, naked words tripping and tumbling over one another. 

The doorknob rattled on the front door. Your eyes were wild as they darted away, trying to turn enough to see through walls. It felt like your executioner was getting ready to catch you. 

“Fuckin hell.” You swore you could hear Laurence outside as he tried the knob again. 

“Kiss me.” Alastor pleaded again. “Kiss me and I’ll go. Pick me. Don’t leave me. Please?” 

The keys rattled in Laurence’s hand, scraping against the lock as he tried the wrong key. You launched yourself forward, closing the small distance harshly. Lips against lips as an arm slid up his chest, wrapping around his neck. 

The coppery taste of blood and the stale taste of old rye flooded your senses as his lips parted in a gasp. His hands found your waist as he held you to him, gripping as they wrapped around you. He lifted you off your feet and walked backward as the lock clicked.

His tongue lapped at your lips before working into your mouth. He moaned into the kiss as his eyes fluttered, wanting to close and be in the moment, but needing to be aware of his surroundings. Large steps backward and to the side took them both almost to the back door as the hinges squeaked at the front of the house. 

“Don’t ignore me again?” Alastor whispered as he set you down, reaching behind him to unlock the back door. “Please?”

“Sugar,” Laurence called from the front door. “Where’s my bag?” 

“Alright,” you sighed, fear flooding you as Alastor opened the door. Laurence was in the living room now, coming closer still to the kitchen and back door. 

Alastor leaned down and placed one last kiss against your lips before stepping out the back door, pulling it shut behind him. As the door latched and you turned, Laurence stepped into the kitchen, calling your name. 

“I’m here,” you answered, putting your back to the door quickly. You didn’t dare look outside as you stepped into the kitchen for fear that you’d see Alastor making his great escape. 

“Where were you?” Laurence asked, as he picked up the forgotten bag. “Why didn’t you answer?” 

“I was just checking the weather,” you lied, “I hope to get sheets washed and hung to dry early.” 

Laurence looked at you for moments that stretched on as you tried to will yourself to relax. “Why are you flushed?” 

“The coffee was hot,” you said. “My skin’s still heated from the spill.” 

Outside the house, back resting against the wall, Alastor sat. His head was just under the window. Through the glass, he could hear everything. Carefully, he twisted and peeked up, watching as Laurence turned his back on the window. That was his chance, and he dared not waste it. 

Long legs swiftly carried him in a direct line from the house to the apple tree. He ran, glancing over his shoulder frequently, fearing he would lock eyes with Laurence. The back of the blond head and then an empty kitchen was all he saw as he rounded behind the tree. 

He waited there, chest heaving in gasping breaths. Exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders, but he waited to move until he heard the car roar to life again. Sliding down the tree, he turned and dug for the notebook and pen.

He needed to get home, run a bath and sleep, but first, he wanted to add one more note to the stack. He hoped you’d read it, that you were not just telling him what he needed to hear to save yourself. 

Thinking back to the way you kissed him, he didn’t think that was the case. You kissed him as if you needed this as much as he did. Everything would get back on track, Alastor was sure of it as he walked through the narrow forest, humming. 

Yes, things were going to go back to how they had been. He would keep spending time with you and growing this little flame between you. When Alastor got the chance, he would take Laurence back to his home and they would have a nice long talk before Alastor ended his filthy life. 

Oh, how the thought filled him with almost as much joy as your kiss had. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Alastor, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

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[writingblogsandothers]

The Chosen One

Part 9

Writer's Note: This is it - the final part... I hope there's no disappointment. It's been so great writing this and seeing your reactions. On to the next work! Speaking of, the final hours for submitting your answers to our poll Sending all the love, as per X

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Mild Taunting/Teasing // Mild Fear // Violence // Mentions of killing/death // Mild kissing // Mild indications of sleeping together (nothing overly descriptive)

Use of She/Her/Lady - Female Pronouns

Readers over the age of 18 only please

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8

Aurelia followed Geta, along with Marcus to secret quarters which she had never seen before. At the end of the dark hallway, was a closeted door. It was opened wide by Acacius and they all entered. The entire senate was present along with Lucilla. She ran over to meet Aurelia with open arms and hugged her tightly. They all sat to discuss the matter at hand – how they were going to deal with Macrinus.

A variety of opinions were floating around the room,

“Jail him.”

“We should exile him, he is a dangerous man.”

“He is too close to Caracalla, it would never work, Caracalla needs to be dealt with.”

On mention of his brother, Geta stood and paced the room. His mind wasn’t altogether sound, but he was his brother. His actions were inexcusable but the thought of any ill to come to him made him feel very uneasy. Aurelia noticed his demeanour and reached out to grab his hand as he paced in a bid to calm him down. He stood firmly behind her and listened to what the other senators had to say.

“Exile and jailing are not for this man. He would find a way to work around that. As you say, he is well acquainted with my brother. Death is to be the sentence. Leave Caracalla to me. He is to be excused.” Geta demanded. The senate looked round at one another, not saying a word.

“DID YOU HEAR ME SENATORS? NOT. TO. BE. TOUCHED.” He screamed.

The senators mumbled “yes, Emperor” and the room fell silent. All eyes were on Geta, seeking action. He pulled Aurelia up by her hand, “Marcus Acacius is to conduct the mission. Listen to his direct commands. Acacius, draft in whatever you need.” He took his wife to his chambers for the evening and retired into a deep sleep.

***

It was still dark outside when Aurelia heard a door handle opening. She woke bleary eyed staring at the direction of the door, anticipating seeing Geta coming in, but she looked to her side and there he lay. She lay back down again on the bed thinking she had made up something in her head when suddenly she her mouth was covered with a rag that had a funny smell. She could feel her eyes closing on themselves and as she tried to struggle, the darkness overtook her.

***

She started to come round when she realised, she was sitting upright. Where was she? Aurelia began to frantically look around and tried to get up. It was only then she noticed she was tied by the ankles and her arms were pinned behind her, also tied. There was no way to break out of the knots on her own. She prayed to the gods that Geta or someone would come to find her and free her.

“Ahhh, Aurelia. You’re awake.” A dark figure emerged from the shadows, but she would recognise that voice anywhere. It was Macrinus.

“I don’t know what you think you are doing Macrinus, but whatever it is, it’s not going to work.”

Macrinus laughed in Aurelia’s face, “Oh but it’s going to work so perfectly. Caracalla is so foolishly stupid, he is indoctrinated. He thinks this is all for his benefit, but the poor fool, HA HA!” He knelt in front of the woman, “Your husband’s pretty crown will be on my head very soon.”

“Geta will never let you get away with this Macrinus. You are delusional if you think my husband is so weak.”

“We’ll soon see about that. As I said earlier Aurelia, I am the kind of man Rome needs. A man who can get what he wants and ensures nothing comes in their way to stops them. With Geta out of the way, and his pathetic wife of no use, no one will stop me in accomplishing what I want.”

“Macrinus, you so much as touch a hair on my husband there will be hell to pay. Rest assured.”

Macrinus chuckled at her empty threat as he thought, “Well we’re going to bring him down here and let you see how we will torture him and make sure you watch as he suffers greatly.”

Aurelia sobbed and shivered at his cold, callous words. “Later ‘Princess’”, he walked out of the room as Aurelia started to shuffle in her chair and writhe like a snake in a bid to free herself, but it was no use. She broke down crying further, fearful for what was to come next.

***

It was sometime later before she heard great commotion.

Geta screamed, “AURELIA, AURELIA, WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“Geta! Please help me!! GETA!”

He followed the sound of her voice and ran into the room. He broke down into tears and ran to her to try and untie her. “My darling, darling girl. What have they done?”

“Geta, they’re going to kill us. They’ll do it, they’ll do it! Macrinus, he’s here. He told me such awful things. We must stop them – we have to get out of here!”

“Well, well, well – the woman isn’t as dim as she looks. She’s got one thing right, and it’s not about stopping us!” Macrinus and Caracalla crept round the corner.

Geta ignored Macrinus’ grating voice and looked deeply into the eyes of Caracalla, “Brother, I don’t know what he has said or promised you, but it’s all lies! Caracalla, in the name of the gods - come to your senses!”

Caracalla approached Geta, “You’re right Brother, I do need to come to my senses.” A large, bladed weapon was wielded from Caracalla’s belt, and it was held against Geta’s neck.

“GETA! Caracalla, I swear if you hurt him, I’ll-”

“Oh, sweet Aurelia, that’s quite endearing… Macrinus, deal with her.” Macrinus approached her, standing over her body and slapped her harshly across the cheek.

“Brother, please don’t do this. This man is a fraud, an imposter. He is only using you to get what he wants. Please brother, I love you – you know that. We can get through this.”

Caracalla stared into the eyes of his brother, for a second Geta saw a glimmer of hope, “Brother, she has turned you so pathetic. It’s pitiful to see you the way you are. This is why I have always had a problem with you and her. Love makes the strongest men weak, and I feel brother that by doing this, I will actually be doing you a grave justice.”

Geta was about to speak when a Marcus Acacius entered the quarters and fighting ensued. The commotion startled Caracalla that Geta was able to get free. He went to get Aurelia, but her chair was now empty. He looked over to find Acacius and Macrinus sparring with their respective swords. When he turned back around, he was pushed abruptly to the ground by Caracalla and saw his blade swipe up into the air.

This was it.

This was how it was all to end.

An ambush by his own brother.

He closed his eyes preparing for the impact, when he heard a grave groan. He looked up to find Aurelia had impaled Caracalla in the upper shoulder. He fell with a thump to the ground.

He began manically laughing as he lay on the ground, “Macrinus, get this useless woman!”

With that, Acacius dropped Macrinus’ head in front of his face.

“There’s your great puppet commander, Emperor.”

Caracalla cried out and wept, “Macrinus, my sweet, sweet Macrinus.” He swept his fingers over his face.

Geta held his wife close as both of them wept. Acacius gathered Caracalla to address his wound. It wasn’t life threatening, just enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Emperor, what are we to do with him?” Acacius asked.

“He’s to be dethroned. Get him into the gladiator quarters, and fetch Aurelia’s brothers. Let the gods decide his fate.”

Caracalla cried, “Brother, brother, please I have failed you. Please, I will do better.” He continued to cry out after Geta, but he turned his back and ignored his cries as Acacius handed him across to the guards who stood at the doorway and followed them to the gladiator stay keep.

Geta held Aurelia even tighter. He was glad his wife was safe, but the betrayal of his brother was too much for him to accept. However, he had to face facts. Caracalla was willing to make his life a living hell. She was his possession, so any harm to her, affected him. He was also willing to get rid of him in a bid to help Macrinus take to higher power. It couldn’t go on. In this case, the gods were best to decide.

“Sweet husband, I love you. I am sorry how Caracalla has betrayed you. I don’t know how to make things better, but they will. Time will heal.”

He sighed, “Yes, it will. Come, let’s get out of here.” He took Aurelia by the hand and led them into the light.

***

With Aurelia’s brothers freed, the games resumed. The crowds gasped when they saw the new addition to the gladiators.

“PEOPLE OF ROME! We have a new gladiator in the rink, my brother, Caracalla. He is there to allow the gods to decide his fate. He has shown great treason, along with Macrinus your new senator. Guards, show the crowd Macrinus!”

A head rolled into the arena, and the crowd gasped – then erupted into great cheering and clapping.

“Now, RELEASE THE MONKEYS!” the crowd cheered once more, and the fighting began. He sat to watch the carnage ensue, taking Aurelia’s hand in his. Lucilla looked on the pair fondly, she was glad the threat of Caracalla was gone. Maybe Geta would soften in his new position without having to compete with his brother and his impish ways.

By the time it was finished, Caracalla was the only gladiator standing. He cheered for himself thinking him victorious, yet Geta knew of the rule. He had the option to chose whether he lived to fight another day or not. Aurelia looked up at him with sad eyes, she knew the fate that lay ahead of him, and she did not like the burden it leaned on her husband. Acacius chimed in, “Remember his treason, Emperor.” Geta nodded.

“THE GODSSS HAVEEEEE SPOKENNNNNNN!!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, and firmly pointed his thumb down to signal it was the end of the road for Caracalla.

He took his wife by the hand and exited the balcony, choosing not staying to observe. Acacius and Lucilla followed behind. Aurelia couldn’t help but feeling sad for the entire event. While he was vile, Caracalla was easily led, but he was dangerous. She also couldn’t help but feel terribly sorry for her husband. It was his brother after all, and she could see that it pained him. But he was treasonous, and that was not permitted. Not in the slightest.

Aurelia knew of a secret, but it was not the right time to reveal it. She knew it would make her husband happy, but right now he had to grieve the loss of his best friend and brother. Aurelia knew she had to stand up to her duties, as a wife and Empress. She had to make sure Geta was her top priority, to help keep Rome in check, and ensure she kept herself well to ensure the future heirs of Rome inherit only the best traits to create a strong line to keep Rome alive.

[arabe11as]

not a lot, just forever.

warnings: ur preggers n alex is cute </3

You were supposed to watch Alex’s Glastonbury set from backstage, the anticipation bubbling as you got ready in the hotel room just minutes away.

But right when you were about to leave, a wave of nausea hit hard. You barely made it to the bathroom before getting sick. Alex found you there, rubbing your back with one hand, his voice soft as he told you to rest and promised he’d come back as soon as his set was over.

You tried to insist he goes out with the guys afterwards, to celebrate, but he just shook his head. Even through the haze of feeling awful, you couldn’t help but notice how incredible he looked, stage-ready and electric, and you hated yourself for not being able to be there.

You lay curled up on the sofa, a blanket pulled tightly around you, trying to ignore the nausea swirling in your stomach. Your mind kept drifting back to the pregnancy test you’d slipped into your bag earlier, without Alex noticing.

You hadn’t taken it yet, torn between wanting to know and dreading what it might reveal. Was it possible? Or was this just some bug, maybe something you ate? But deep down, you knew that sooner or later, you’d have to face it and find out for sure.

You turned up the telly, letting his voice fill the room as if it could somehow calm the storm inside you.

The set was echoing from the living room through the bathroom while you stood there, staring down at the pregnancy test in your hand. Heart pounding, you finally took it, set it on the sink, and walked back to the sofa, trying to focus on his performance instead.

As you watched him up there, alive and in his element, tears started to slip down your cheeks. The thoughts came like a flood—what if this changed everything? What if you ruined this for him, this life he’d worked so hard for? Would he even want this?

Knowing he was out there having the time of his life right now only made it harder. You’d have to tell him soon, and in a few hours, this might all come crashing down.

You tried to push the thoughts away, shaking off the weight in your chest as you walked back to the sink. Taking a deep breath, you flipped the test over. In bold, flashing letters, it read pregnant, as if mocking you, taunting you with a life-altering truth.

The sight alone sent you stumbling back, nausea washing over you again as you threw up once more.

From the other room, Alex’s voice floated in, strong and carefree through the television. That only made the tears come harder. You sank to the bathroom floor, curling up and pressing your forehead to the cold tile, feeling trapped and terrified.

After a few minutes, you forced yourself up, brushing your teeth to wash away the bitterness, then slipping into something comfortable, hoping it might steady you.

Hands shaking, you picked up your phone and typed out a message to Katie, the only person you could think of to turn to right now.

Katie texted back almost instantly, even from backstage at Glastonbury. Her reply was steady and sure, telling you that it would be okay, that you’d get through this.

She gently urged you to tell Alex as soon as he got back, reminding you he deserved to know.

You hesitated, typing out your fears—what if he’s angry?—and her answer was quick, reassuring.

he won’t be angry he loves you.

It was a lifeline you clung to, even as the weight of the news still pressed down on you.

Before you knew it, his set was over, and you watched him blow kisses to the crowd on the screen, his face alight with joy.

But as the cheers faded, anxiety gripped you. He was on his way back, faster than you’d expected. Moments later, your phone buzzed:

I’m on my way back !

You swallowed hard, fingers trembling as you typed out a calm reply, trying to keep it together.

Now, all you could do was sit there and wait, feeling every second stretch out as you prepared to tell him the news that might change everything.

You paced the room, heart racing as you rehearsed the words in your head, wondering how you’d even begin.

Should you wait for him to ask what was wrong, or just blurt it out the second he walked in? Your phone buzzed again, another message from Katie:

Jamie asked if he can be the god father.

You laughed at her message and it distracted you from what was happening but it disappeared the second you heard the door open. You froze, pulse-pounding as Alex stepped inside, still buzzing from the stage, his smile so bright.

As the door clicked shut, you couldn’t wait a second longer. You crossed the room quickly, wrapping your arms around him before he could even set his things down.

He held you close, his heartbeat still racing from the show, and leaned down to whisper, “Did you like the set?” You nodded against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of him grounding you even as silent tears slipped down your cheeks.

Normally, you’d pull back by now, and tease him about some part of the show, but this time you clung to him, not ready to let go.

He noticed right away, his hold tightening. “You alright, love?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes softened as he took in your tear-streaked face, hands lifting to gently cup your cheeks, brushing away the tears with his thumbs.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, worry written all over his face.

When he asked, the floodgates opened, and you couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. You tried to speak, but your throat tightened, and no words came.

“What’s wrong, lovely?” he repeated, concern deep in his voice. Without hesitation, he pulled you back into his arms, cradling you gently. “Come here,” he murmured, practically lifting you off your feet and carrying you to the sofa to sit down.

He wiped away your tears, his fingers running through your hair as he murmured soft reassurances.

“Was I that bad?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood with a small laugh, but you could only manage a faint smile in response.

“Alex…” you choked out, your voice breaking.

“Yeah?” he replied, squeezing your hand, his thumb gently stroking over your skin.

“Please… don’t be mad…” you muttered, the words barely escaping you.

“Mad? What? Why would I be mad, love?” he whispered, his tone soft and confused, as he pulled you closer, his warmth wrapping around you like a safety net.

You tried to speak, but your breaths came in short, panicked gasps, the anxiety tightening around your chest.

“Right, breathe for me, Y/N,” Alex said softly, rubbing your arm in slow circles. “Before you say anything, just calm down.” His voice was steady, and you focused on his words, trying to slow your breath. Slowly, you took a few deep inhales, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

“I promise you, whatever it is, I won’t be mad,” he whispered, his voice full of reassurance, trying to anchor you.

After a few moments, you managed to calm down enough to grab the test from the bathroom. You returned to the sofa, sitting beside him, his eyes full of confusion as you placed the test in his hand.

You couldn’t bear to look at him, so you covered your eyes, waiting for him to speak, the silence stretching between you.

He didn’t say anything right away, just stared at the test in his hands. After what felt like forever, he finally spoke. “Did… did you take this today?” His voice was gentle but unsure.

You nodded, the weight of the moment heavy in your chest.

Alex set the test down on the nearby table, his expression softening as he looked at you. “It’s okay,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms.

“Come here.” You melted into him, his warmth and steady presence grounding you as he held you close, his fingers gently stroking your hair.

“I would never be mad at you for that,” he whispered, his voice soft but full of certainty.

“I’m scared, Al,” you murmured, your voice breaking as the sobs came harder.

“I know,” he replied, his voice trembling with the weight of it all. You pulled away slightly when you noticed the tear slowly slipping down his cheek. Seeing that, your heart ached even more.

“I’m sorry…” you muttered, feeling a heavy guilt settle over you.

“Don’t be, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking slightly as he gave you a gentle smile. You reached up to wipe the tear from his cheek, your heart pounding.

“Do you… wanna have a baby?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, full of so many unspoken fears.

He paused, looking at you, before replying, “That’s not up to me, Y/N.”

You felt a rush of gratitude for him, the way he was letting you decide this, but you knew it wasn’t just your decision to make. “It is, Al. You get a say in this too,” you whispered, your fingers still resting against his cheek.

He nodded, his smile still soft but mixed with uncertainty. “Listen… if you want to keep it, I’m fine with that. If you don’t, I’m fine with that too.”

You could feel the weight of his words, but there was still one question left that you needed to ask. “But… what would you prefer?” you asked, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for his answer.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice gentle as he said, “I’d love to have a baby with you.” The warmth of his words filled you with relief, and you smiled, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” you asked your voice light despite the whirlwind of emotions still swirling inside you.

“Woah, you’ve just known its existence,” he teased, a playful grin tugging at his lips. But then he paused, looking thoughtful. “…A girl,” he whispered.

“Is that what you would want?” you asked, feeling a flutter of hope at the idea.

He smiled, his eyes soft. “Another version of you? I’d be so happy.” His words made your heart swell.

“If it’s a boy, can we call him Alex Junior?” you asked, trying to keep the mood light, your lips curving into a mischievous smile.

“Ooo, I dunno about that,” he laughed, the sound of it warming you. You could feel the tension easing, both of you settling into the quiet joy of this shared moment, whatever the future might bring.

Alex scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to bed with ease, his lips brushing over your forehead every few steps. “Get some rest,” he murmured as he set you down, his eyes lingering on you before he disappeared to change out of his stage clothes.

When he returned, he couldn’t stop touching you—small kisses on your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, his hands gently stroking your hair, making sure you were okay.

Finally, he slid into bed behind you, pulling you close with your back pressed to his chest. His arms wrapped protectively around you as you both relaxed.

You giggled quietly, breaking the silence. “I loved throwing my guts up to body paint by the way it was very enjoyable.”

He chuckled, his breath warm against your shoulder. “Bit of a soundtrack for the moment, eh?”

You both laughed softly, the tension from earlier easing. You turned your head slightly, your voice soft. “You were so good tonight, Al. Like, ridiculously good.”

He chuckled quietly, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “Yeah? You watched the whole thing, then?”

“Course I did,” you said, smiling. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You were amazing. The crowd loved you.”

“Means a lot, love” he murmured, his voice tinged with affection. “But I’d trade it all to have had you there with me.”

You felt the familiar ache of guilt tug at you again, and before he could say anything else, his tone shifted, gentle but curious. “Why were you so scared to tell me?”

You hesitated, your fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. “I didn’t want to ruin your career,” you admitted quietly, the weight of your fears spilling out.

Alex shifted, gently turning you around to face him. His eyes locked onto yours, warm and steady. “Ruin my career?” he whispered before leaning in to kiss you softly, his lips lingering against yours. “You could never ruin anything, Y/N. I’d choose you over anything, every time.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and tears welled up again. You sniffled as they spilt over, but before you could get too far into your emotions, Alex smiled and teased, “Ah, there it is—pregnancy hormones, in full swing.”

You laughed through your tears, playfully swatting at him before snuggling closer, burying your face in his neck. His arms tightened around you, his chest a steady rhythm beneath your ear as you drifted off, feeling safe and loved.

[albatris]

today's natnowrimo word count is 50,112!! victory with a day to spare!

short update today since I'd best be sleepin soon

I'm going to an oddities and curiosities expo tomorrow! and I was meant to get a tattoo today but my artist was unwell :c that's okay! next week!

today's excerpt is.....

“Jen. It’s always a pleasure.” March’s face scrunched up, Nat supposed happily. March said, “And who is this?”

“This is Nat,” Jen said, latching briefly onto Nat’s arm. “He’s my personal bodyguard for this evening.”

March laughed. “You don’t think so lowly of my friends.”

“Of course not,” Jen laughed right back. “It’s Cheri Pharmaceutical I’m worried about.”

March laughed some more, and Jen laughed, and it went on a touch longer than Nat thought was comfortable. He wondered whether he should laugh, too. He wasn’t sure what was funny.

“Nat, how about you go get us some drinks?” Jen asked.

Nat scratched at his hands. “Us as in us or us as in you and Reuben March?”

Jen kept on smiling and didn’t look over. “Thank you, Nat.”

Will you be safe on your own? Nat thought about asking, but then figured Jen herself was the authority on where he should be at any given moment, so he might as well just listen to her. Nat abandoned the pair of them and zeroed in on one of the staff floating around carrying drinks on a plate.

“Hello,” Nat said. “What are these?”

“Sparkling wine, sir.”

Oh. Sir. Nat didn’t like that. He plucked two of the glasses off the plate and absconded from the interaction. If March wanted one, March could have one, and if March didn’t want one, Nat would just pretend it had always been for himself.

He shouldered his way back through the crowd as politely as he could, and stood aside from Jen and March and waited for them to notice him. Their conversation quickly trailed off into silence and Jen gave him a slightly irritated look.

“Do you mind giving us a moment, Nat?” she said, and Nat realised he’d gravely misread a social cue. Go get us some drinks was code for leave us the fuck alone.

How had he been meant to know that? Nat left them again and headed back into the terrifying mass of partygoers, resisting the urge to mumble rude words to himself. He downed one glass of sparkling wine, then shrugged and downed the other, too, hoping the alcohol would soften the edges of his nerves.

today's mood is multiple beautiful walks in the sunshine even though my legs wail in protest all the time and today's jam is "you're too weird" by fruit bats

bye everyone! I love you!

[icomeandg0]

For ‘More than One’ maybe you could detail the relationships between each Link and their y/n or how they met!

Hi Anon!

I'd love to explain and details each Link and Y/n for ya!

I'm addressing each of them as ' Link ' instead of their LU names and that goes for the same as the Y/n's. Also oopies on Times one but it was more of Y/n lore than a detail of their relationship.

Content under cut

Time/OOT Link.

I think this was predictable but you and Link (For majority of the Links and Y/n's) started off as childhood best friends. They met each other while Y/n and Malon were near the fountain at castle town while waiting for Talon.

I think the trope suited for them would be childhood sweethearts/you fell first and he fell harder.

You two met at castle town when you were both young, When Link was going to meet with Zelda for the first time.

I like to think a lot about each of the Links and Y/n's relationships because I want them all to have very different stories to each other.

ALSO! YES YOU TWO ARE MARRIED AND HAVE...Want part two? Hit that follow button (JK, But I won't go into too much detail, yet.)

Oh before I forget, I think it's a relevant fact to mention that Y/n was adopted by Talon so Malon and Y/n are half sisters?

I like dramatic backgrounds and relationships so, You know how on ice age, the first movie where they look after that baby? Yeah so.

Y/n's mother was running away with her in her arms, she was supposidly meant to go to the Deku tree to be looked after but Y/n's mother was too tired as she drifted down the Zora's river.

Talon was delivering as per usual when he saw a woman floating down the stream so he quickly dropped everything and hurried over to the edge and grab onto her arm. Y/n's mother couldn't open her eyes. Too tired to do so, she only pushed the baby into Talons arms which he was alarmed but once he saw your h/c tufts of hair and such a peaceful resting face he couldn't help but have the need to protect you...However he knew better than to take you but when he looked back. Your mother wasn't there.

"I think daddy fell asleep again." Malon comments as the two of you sat on the edge of the fountain in the middle of town. "Definitely" You agreed, "He always does this, I would march up to the castle and find him myself if it weren't for those annoying knights." "Yeah, if only there was someone that could sneak past them all and get Talon"

Just saying that, you watch as a kid in green, around your age ran past...and tripped over a tile. The fairy flew around him 'Hurry Link! We need to get to the castle quickly!' The fairy called out, the boy looked around to make sure no one had seen that but when he looked back he was met with yours and Malons eyes glued on him. It was clear he grew flustered so he quickly stood up and ran off in the direction to the castle.

"Maybe he can!" Malon points at the boy running, "Yeah, Let's catch up to him!"

Warrior/HW Link.

Link and Y/n in this era are a fun duo in my mind, I did think about a soft reader with this Link because I thought it would be funny that a womanizer would fall in love with someone soft hearted and made him want to forget every woman he's ever been with. A quote that would've fit this would be 'I can fix him'

The mischaracterisation for Link hurts me, I don't know what I was thinking honestly.

ANYWAYS! I liked the idea of someone bossing Link around, Do I feel bad? No.

Also I think Link doesn't like sorceresses that much (Because of Cia) so I made Y/n into a witch. Yes sorceresses and Witches are practically the same.

Y/n in this era is self centered, confident, bold—Someone that acts all high and mighty really.

"Move out of my way, Rookie."

"You expect respect? Hah! You have to earn it, especially from me."

"You have to improve your sword skill before I can treat you as an equal. Trust me, You're far from achieving so."

She made him want to pull all his hair out.

Their relationship is a slowburn / Enemies to lovers.

Don't worry, they get better and maybe I'll do a full explanation on their story if anyones interested to also explain on why Warriors was so in shock when he had found her again (Hinting to my last chapter of more of us series)

"Link, I would like to introduce you to your new ally and commander" Impa says calmly as she led him through the hallways of the castle, "She's a witch but trust me, she's a brave and responsible type" Impa informed.

"That's good to know" Link sighs in relief, he's over dealing with witches and sorceresses but if this witch is just as Impa describes, He can handle it. Impa opens the door to the courtyard to be met with a woman around his age standing in the middle of the field, The woman was sharp and looked back to see the pair.

"Y/n, meet Link. He's the chosen hero of Hyrule." With this, Link bowed his head towards the woman who had only scoffed, "So he's a rookie with a title? I don't get what makes him so special from the rest." Link growled and took a step forward but Impa held him back, "No fighting. You'll look after him during the times on the battlefield whether it be for aiding him or healing." "Tch, I don't remember agreeing to those rules-" "Y/n." "Fine."

Impa looked over Link, "Good luck, she's a hard one to impress. She'll keep you on your toes" Link only sighed. "Lucky me."

Twilight/TP Link

I'm still deciding on a good plot for the two because as you all probably guessed, the two are the ones that can transform.

Puppy love is how I would describe them.

Started off as childhood best friends or sweethearts. To the village it was as if you two were already destined to be. You two were attached to the waist even!

I was thinking that a week from Link officially starting his journey, Y/n had gone missing so he went out and originally was going to try and find her but he got caught up in other stuff.

However, there was a dragon following him during his journey so in his eyes he had two companions being the dragon and Midna.

I Think you all know who the dragon is at this point.

Not much to describe them about, a sappy couple? Like those overly cringey lover types? lol.

I also like to think that Y/n Is more of a city gal despite being brought up in the country sideeee.

Link obviously hitting you up with his southern accent trying to make you fall to his feet but as soon as you start talking like a proper city gal he's on his knees- Scratch that, turned into Wolfie.

Post game Y/n, I like to think she started a daycare or a school for the kids because they don't learn much intelligently but are more hands on. I like to head canon that this Y/n is one of the smartest in the village BUT! She isn't the smartest Y/n.

Meeting this Link was love at first sight...At the age of 6.

One fine day in Ordon Village you were helping about with a few little task such as carrying light things from one place to another when you heard a familiar voice call out.

“Y/n! Meet the new boy in the village! Link” Ilia introduced you to the boy around your age, he smiled sheepishly and you just analysed his every detail.

“Hi Link, It’s nice to meet you” you say softly as you smile back at him, he tilts his head “Hi…Uh, You’re very pretty.” Ilia’s eyes widened as she heard the bold words of the boy behind her, you were just as equally shocked but you only giggled.

“Thank you, Link” you twirl a strand of hair with your index finger. You almost dropped what you were carrying and you were quick to wrap your hand back around the item.

“Well, I've got to drop this off. I’ll see you soon?” You say with a soft smile before turning away and walking off. Link had a stupid grin plastered on his face which earned a sigh from Ilia.

Wild/BOTW Link

The chaotic duo.

Friends to lovers (Strangers to friends to lovers in TOTK-)

Now, these two give the group the biggest headache it's unbelievable.

It's not even Link sometimes!

Y/n in this universe is just overly chaotic and Link is there for it because in some sense he honestly can't talk, on some days he's just as bad.

First encounter? Woke up half naked to one another and Y/n continued with some awkward conversation after that so Link accepted his fate that this was his idiot.

Both Link and Y/n are the life of the party, but Y/n is more extrovert while Link is more of both but it honestly depends if we're talking about LINK or WILD.

Wild is both

Link is an introvert

"So, what���s your name?” Y/n had asked as she grabbed a baked apple from the campfire nearby. Waking up next to one another naked was not how you two wanted to meet but you brushed past it and tried to become acquainted with him instead.

After a few seconds of silence she spoke up again, “Well, not much of a talker huh? I’ll go first, My names Y/n” you say, snapping the apple in half you hold one side out to him.

“If you don’t have a name, I’ll give you one. Nice to meet you, Bob” you grin, you watch his every move and soon he reaches out and grabs the other half of the apple, “Link, it’s Link.” “Well, Bobs a nice name too” that earned a faint chuckle from the boy.

Four/FS Link

Now.

Y/n in this era is a pain in the ass.

as noted in my 'More than one'

She's stubborn, feisty, sharp tongued, short tempered, strong headed but she is reasonably logical and is the smartest one out of the Y/n's.

One more thing to add about her is that she can't fight effectively, she can throw punches at people but to monsters? She rather not. She helps with strategising with Time and Warriors until she ends up in a small argument with either one when discussing plans.

Anyways! Four is our darling, calm and collected but won't hesitate to put you in your place, a perfect someone for our dear Y/n!

Four can tolerate her behaviour more than anyone else because they are childhood best friends, Of course there will be times where Four has to be stern with Y/n but that's only to make sure she doesn't get overwhelmed with anger.

Despite all her negative comments she may say about him she doesn't mean it half the time because deep down she's touched at how he still sticks by her side.

Y/n also likes to make things, like an inventor or fix things. Four makes and Y/n fixes.

Yes she knows the colours and finds them 'annoying' too.

Blue? Loves riling him up and arguing with him

Red? Likes to tease him until he's almost crying.

Green? Likes to point out every mistake he makes which always puts him off

Vio? Can relate to him and genuinely has a sorta connection with him but can end up arguing but Vio would win because his calm and collected self pisses her off because it's like her words aren't effecting him.

Relationship trope? I would say Sunshine x grump.

At the age of 5, you were in your little dress and your mother had just finished doing your hair, You were hiding behind your mother as she greets the new neighbour who was a old grandpa smith.

"Y/n? Go say hi to the nice man's grandson" Your mother encouraged. You looked up at her with a pleading look but she gave you a look that said 'You better go now or else you'll experience the pain when we get home.' You gulp and shuffle towards the little boy.

The boy grins, you could see a gap in his teeth which made you grimace, "I'm Link! Nice to meet you!" Link held his hand, You gently took his hand. "I'm Y/n"

"Awe! They're already getting along!" "R-really? They just introduced themselves-" "Would you like coffee?" "O-Oh yes that would be lovely"

Once the adults were out of sight you scowl, yanking your hand away from him "I don't want to be your friend, If anything keep 10 feet away from me" You point at him which made him blink in surprise but he grins again. "Cool! Let's play!" He completely ignored your words and grabs your hand again and drags you over to a grass patch.

"W-Wait! Gosh dang it!"

(She hasn’t acquired the ability to swear just yet.)

Sky/SS Link

Ah.

I Love this Link a lot.

Which is why I want to give him the most complicated relationship with his Y/n.

Relationship trope? She loved him too early, He loved her too late + SLOWBURNNNN

It's painful, I know.

Y/n in this era is known for her shy exterior, she was easily brushed off since it was as if she was never there. Of course she was in a trio with Link and Zelda but it felt as if she was third wheeling and she was sure Link had a crush on Zelda so Y/n never brought up the fact she had a crush on him. Had a crush on the boy for a few years now.

CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS AGAIN!

He began to develop feelings when they were on the adventure to get Zelda back, It was the first time he's seen Y/n so...out there and he can finally acknowledge her as she truly was.

But as his feelings grew, her feelings lessened

He did have a love rival, Ghirahim.

After their adventure with each other he was going to confess his feelings but when Y/n could see the fond look on his face she didn't want to know what would've happened next so she didn't allow him to finish but instead told him she was going to leave and adventure the surface again.

Link was heartbroken, he was a sappy lover type...He wanted to be yours.

He offered to come along but you refused saying you didn't need him and that he should be with Zelda again.

That's when he realises.

"Are you new here?" Link asked you curiously, the young boy, probably just turned 5? You were 4 at the time and the boy smiled "I've never seen you around before!" You only sniffled "I've been here since I was little" "W-wait, really? I'm sorry I haven't noticed you earlier."

"Why's that?" You asked softly, still haven't made eye contact with him yet. "Because we could've been friends a lot faster!" Your head snaps towards him after hearing his words. "So, Should we be friends?" He smiles. It takes a bit of encouragement, you were hesitant at first but you gave a small nod.

"Yeah, Okay..."

Wind/WW Link

Obvious disclaimer this will just reach as far as a crush as the two are underage and I find young relationships (Below 15) Silly/Stupid.

Ironic enough, You didn't meet Link but rather introduced to him after he was allowed on Tetra's ship.

You weren't friends with Link...No. You were best buddies with Tetra!

Y/n is a mermaid, I think it's fitting because there aren't any Zora in this era and it's pirates. Pirates need mermaids to cause chaos duh.

Well ironically enough, You're the princess of the sea so when you heard of Tetra and her crew you were intrigued so when you were having free time from your princess duties you somewhat came across their ship.

They caught you at first and were going to sell you but you convinced them not to and somehow you're a part of the team as a not official- official team member.

Back to you and Link, You had ventured with him at times because unlike Tetra, You could swim beside Link and aid him along the way.

"SHE SPLASHED ME!" Link cried out as he wiped the water off his face to the best of his abilities, "Oh Boho~ Get used to it" You taunted as you stick your tongue out at him.

"You're going to let her talk to me like that?!" Link looked towards Tetra who had only shrugged. "Oh grow a pair. She's harmless" Link looks back at you as you grin up at him, showing off your sharp teeth. "Harmless my ass.."

Legend/LTTP Link

Now.

Link hasn't met his Y/n in this era yet so I can't really comment on anything.

However, Y/n already knew Link before meeting him in the 'More than one' series.

Not because of the tales told about him or his adventures but she's talked to him a few times but just not in her own skin.

Sound confusing?

It is.

Anyways, This Y/n has the most tragic backstory out of them all which made her emotionally reserved but in a way she's not depressed or anything like that, she's content. (Despite everything she’s been through)

That's a story for another time.

Link doesn't particularly like his Y/n at first because of how at ease she is when the situation is serious so he thinks she's just messing around so something stupid might happen.

Relationship trope? A bit of sunshine x grump? Not really but slowburn.

Hyrule/LOZ Link

Another Link who hasn't met their Y/n

Now I think these two resemble puppy love.

His Y/n has bimbo vibes

She doesn't dress like one I swear, plus the others forbid.

She's pretty and dumb.

He's pretty (In your eyes) and dumb.

Y/n doesn't think too much about her actions nor about the consequences which led her to getting hurt many times but with Link by her side there's another healer to take care of her.

(HW Y/n was impressed and upgraded him to her apprentice...Warriors wasn't happy that Hyrule immediately on HW Y/n's good side)

Their relationship is love at first sight? Morley Y/n since she is quite open with her opinions, Know not to tell him until time is right.

Gossips with BOTWY/n the most about it which always results in Y/n to get teased.

His Y/n is overly excited, golden retriever vibes, extreme extrovert.

Link is the complete opposite.

(In my eyes at least)

Opposites attract.

Also!

If anyone's wondering the Y/n's do hold a triforce in position...or should I say Tetra-force?

I like to think that some of the Links have love rivals just to spice things up.

I didn't add a little story for Hyrule or Legend because of course, they only met their Y/n in the more than one series. Also guilty because I did not edit this.

[galactichoneybee92]

Dialogue V.S Soliloquy

... and why we haven't really had a Helluva Boss love confession yet.

~*~ Spoilers Below for Mastermind ~*~

I've seen a lot of confusion on this topic floating around the internet and I thought I would offer up my 2 cents on the matter. Like, maybe Vivzie will come out with a tweet that proves this entire theory wrong or something but until then, here is my interpretation.

The song starts off as Stolas addressing the courtroom. He even leads into it saying something like "Lets do this the way I do best- with song." He then proceeds to play a sort of evil villain role, pretending that everything was all part of his evil plan and how dare this dumb little Imp try to take credit for his accomplishments- really playing up the condescension in a way that the Goetia will buy. He's playing to his audience with the ultimate goal of redirecting the blame from Blitz to himself. He's campy and dramatic the whole time until he gets to the line "And I have no regrets."

At that point you will notice a change in the background. As soon as he sings that line we suddenly aren't in the courtroom anymore but in this starry galaxy backdrop with feathers floating around and he immediately sings "I have regrets." Like, it's the very next line. "I have no regrets. I have regrets." The tone shifts from his silly villain monologue to something sadder and more somber. All of this combined is why I believe that this is when the song stops being an address to the court room and becomes a soliloquy.

If you think back to highschool when you were learning about Romeo and Juliet, that's when most people learn about soliloquy- A device used in theater to let the audience into the character's mind. It's usually shown as the character on stage by themselves, speaking their thoughts aloud so that we as the audience can know what they're thinking, but it's accepted that the other characters in the play cannot hear this part.

When Mastermind makes the drastic shift away from campy stage play into somber reverie, I believe this is meant to be a soliloquy. After all, the "I have no regrets. I have regrets" line wouldn't make any sense if Stolas was still addressing the courtroom. He doesn't want them to know he has regrets or that he's questioning everything or that he's even questioning why he's willing to throw everything away for this one man that he's not even on good terms with right now. Additionally, Blitz's parts in this song are his thoughts too: "What have you done?" and "I don't deserve this."

They were both screaming in their heads about how much they love each other but I don't think they've said it out loud, not to each other or anyone else. When Satan sings his part he doesn't comment on any of the lovey dovey stuff, just "Isn't that adorable, we've been betrayed by one of our own." He only comments on Stolas's performance from the beginning of the song. He goes on to talk about how Stolas's hubris had gotten the better of him, but nothing of his heart.

These two haven't confessed their love, they've just both accepted it. I think the purpose of the duet was to show that they're finally on the same page with what they want out of the relationship, but they've still got some work to do in regard to actually getting there. They've said it in their heads- now they need to say it to each other.

[citrusai]

their yearning is intertwined, as though there were no spatial or temporal interval between them.

Summary: Inspired by my own dog-gone post about Solas watching his heart through the eyes of Rook, incapable of doing or saying anything to reach out to her. 1.7k words

Warnings: None, but it's more Solas POV obviously. Bittersweet, obviously. No grave Veilguard spoilers but read at your own peril.

A/N: As always, crossposted to ao3. Love u all.

This was not Solas’ plan. It was never his intention to bind Rook to himself, to be trapped in a prison of his own making. The bond was thin, a crumb of a thought floating through the fade, it wasn’t much to go on.

The last thing he’d heard was that Rook was intending to meet a possible ally somewhere in Minrathous. His patience was wearing thin. Had it not been for their meddling, the veil would have been torn, nature restored to balance. And perhaps, Solas could… No. He won’t dwell on that treacherous thought, on the impossible.

The Cobbled Swan is empty, save for Rook sat at a small table. The situation weighs heavy on their mind. They’d been anxious about this, more so when Morrigan and Harding had started speaking about utmost privacy, just you two, we shouldn’t be here for this.

Rook seems to be incapable of sitting still, bouncing their leg as they look around the empty pub. How curious. What kind of person would have an entire establishment shut down? They glance through the window, eyes studying the movement of people living their day to day. A sigh escapes their lips.

A cold hand creeping up behind their ear and down their neck.

“Boo.”

Rook jumps in their seat, hand clutching onto their chest. Their head swivels in the direction of the voice, and they’re even more taken aback. They bow their head in greeting.

“Inquisitor.”

A sound of a raspberry being blown. “Wrong. The inquisition’s been disbanded. It’s Gan’freya now, or Lavellan if you wish to be formal. May I?” The woman gestures towards the chair in front of Rook, and they motion for her to sit.

Gan’freya sits down, folding her arms across her chest, her gaze bears no steeliness and yet it’s not entirely kind. She studies Rook for a moment. Their face, their outfit, the way they hold themselves. Rook notices the glint of metal on her hand, a prosthetic.

“You’re not entirely what I expected.” Rook speaks.

Gan’freya has to hold back an eye roll. “I suppose you expected a saviour, someone who invited you here with words of encouragement.” Her arms slip down to rest on the armchairs. “I’m afraid I don’t have any to spare. If you think what’s going on here in the North is horrid, you have yet to see the scourge released on Southern Thedas.”

“Why ask to see me then?”

“Morrigan and Harding had asked so politely, and what with Varric hiring you on my expense, well.” Her voice trails off, eyes looking out the window. A snort escapes her mouth. “Apologies, I think we both expected something different when you went to disrupt that ritual.”

“Do you think I failed?” Rook’s mouth runs dry, knee bouncing faster and faster.

Gan’freya looks at them, and there’s a hint of pity in her eyes, it’s gone as soon as it had arrived. She reaches her hand out to clasp Rook’s. “No.” She says, voice firm. “Nobody could’ve predicted the consequences.”

There’s a warm roll of familiarity that washes over Rook, but they can’t pinpoint why. They’d heard tales of the Inquisitor, and the stories had brought comfort on the long days chasing the Evanuris and the Venatori. The very stories Varric regaled.

But this felt different. As if a foreign mind had bled into theirs, trying to reach for her through Rook. They zero in on her speaking, shrugging off the sensation. She tells them of a statuette, and in return Rook tells her of what they’ve found.

It’s a glimmer. A foggy window, but Solas knows that figure better than he knows himself these days. Surely, the prison mocks him. Every move, every plan made in his lighthouse, buried under secrecy until Rook seeks him out. But now, the fade ripples and opens itself as if arms outstretched, daring him to confront himself.

Her hair is shorter, and there are bags under her eyes. She is both how he remembers her, and more. Yes, he had watched over her in her dreams, even before the night of the ritual. But seeing her, physically seeing her, through the eyes of Rook, it makes his heart leap into his throat.

The humour in her voice, quick to deflect Rook’s questioning. Always so perceptive to what others want from her, always ready to keep them at arm’s length.

He did not want this for her. Did not want her to follow him, to resign herself to a role she never wanted to begin with.

Herald. Inquisitor. Martyr. A symbol larger than life itself.

When she reached for Rook, when her hand had touched theirs, it’s as if that warmth washed over him too. How he wished he actually did bind that fool to do his bidding, if only to feel the softness of her hand in his once more, even through a proxy body.

The image becomes clearer upon her touch. And the punishment continues. Her pained cry, from when he’d removed the orb from her arm, echoes through the fade. The very sound mocks him, as his gaze falls on her prosthetic arm. He’d saved her, had given her another chance at life, or so he told himself.

His hand reaches for her, and the view ripples in between his fingers like water. His heart hammers in his chest, as if trying to break through skin and flesh and crawl out from the fade into her arms.

The prison echoes with more cries of anguish, the hiss of words in anger, mistakes that had been made before he’d met her. Solas dares not acknowledge them, their very existence a heavy weight upon his shoulder.

So he closes his eyes. His ears tuning into her voice as if it were a guiding melody. Everything else is just noise.

Rook scratches their temple, it feels as if a fog has fallen upon their mind.

“Are you alright?” Gan’freya inquires.

She’s no mage, not well versed in anything arcane, and her brother has been no help what with his speciality being healing. But something about Rook’s behaviour feels odd.

Morrigan had sent word, updates after the ritual was disrupted, when blight had descended upon Thedas once more like a disease. Harding had urged her to meet with them, to alleviate their fears now that Varric was gone. And through Morrigans eluvian she went.

She knew of Rook, in a way. Varric had written enough letters for Gan’freya to make sense of who this person was, what they could do. Yet something about their eyes fighting not to glaze over as they scratch and prod at their temple, fingers moving towards the back of their head, makes her eyes zero in on them with an analytical gaze.

“I am. It’s just…” They place their palms on the table, as if willing their body to still. “Ever since I hit my head when we disrupted the ritual, it’s like there’s this buzzing in my head.”

Her eyes give them a once over. “A concussion, you mean?”

They shake their head. “No it’s like, like something crawling around in there, biting on my brain.”

“What like something controlling you?”

“No..” Rook trails off, eyes cast down at the table, fingers scratching on the surface. “It’s more like... Something’s watching me, or at least trying to.”

“And by someone you mean…”

“Solas.” Rook finishes. “But it’s not constant, sometimes it’s a dull throb, but right now it’s like… Like my brain is on fire, in a way.”

Gan’freya hums, eyes giving Rook a once over. She rises from the table, approaching Rook as her hand reaches for their scalp, a questioning look in her eyes.

“May I?” She asks.

Rook simply nods. Unsure of what her fingers carding through their hair might achieve. Her touch is soothing, in more ways than one. It seems she’s inspecting their wound, fingers gently prodding the scab.

“I’m not oozing, am I?” They jest.

Something between a laugh and a snort escapes her mouth. “No, no you’re fine. No oozing, no bleeding, no tentacles or horns.”

Their body stills, and they hear the rustle of a bag, and a smear of something wet on their scalp. It’s cooling, relaxing almost. They listen to her hum as she layers whatever she’s smearing over their head.

Solas wonders if smell can travel into his prison, the scent of lavender and verbena overwhelming him. He cannot feel her touch, nor feel the balm she’s generously slathering Rook in. But he remembers, remembers how she used to tend to his wounds and his scrapes, how she used to bandage him and place soft kisses upon his scars afterwards.

And now all he has is this. A memory. A faint touch that cannot reach him.

The sting of tears in his eyes, his throat closing up, fists clenched at his sides.

“You’ll be fine.” Her voice, hushed, reverberating through the fade.

A part of him hopes she knows he’s listening in, another doesn’t dare to assume this kindness is aimed towards him.

It’d be so much easier if she had come to the lighthouse. The veil is thin there, he’d have more opportunity to reach out, to engage. But he cannot, he’s resigned to being a backseat passenger.

Solas watches her pull away, a solemn expression on her face, lips downcast in a frown. He’s always hated seeing her like that. The view grows foggier as Rook begins getting up, Solas watches as Gan’freya’s hand slip the jar of the salve she rubbed on them between Rook’s palms.

“You need it more than I do. Whenever you feel an itch just… you know, smear away.”

But there’s something in her voice, a tone that’s indecipherable to Rook, but all too familiar to Solas. There’s no bite, no sadness, but there’s a lilt of knowing. Her eyes catch Rook’s gaze, but it’s as if she’s staring through them, right at Solas.

When they bid their goodbyes, the image blurs altogether. As if it were never there with him to begin with.

And when Rook comes to him in the fade, he tries his hardest to bite back the upturn of the corners of his lips as the all too familiar medicinal smell wafts into the air, paired with something far more familiar, and sweeter.

Just as Rook pretends they did not meet with her under secrecy, Solas pretends he did not watch it through their eyes, hands folded behind his back. Their conversations clipped, filled with jabs and insults. But when they leave, and Solas is alone in his prison once more, the smell remains.

And it sparks a feeling of hope in his chest.

[purplesimmer455]

This is actually when Nancy got possessed (glitched by the game) to become Edith. I did manage to remove it because I googled it and someone said to use testing cheats to remove and then add the sim back to household and it thankfully worked. Nancy is no longer possessed by the mark currently. 😅

Nancy goes to see Edith again, this time with her mom in tow. Stephanie shivers in the chill air as she cycles ahead of Nancy and approaches the well. The two stop, get off their bikes, and kick their stand into place. "Mom, don't be scared." Nancy says calmly, and Stephanie nods. She looks around at the gloomy surroundings and feels a chill go down her spine as she spots a small red figure. It has long hair, a torn nightgown or dress, and where it would have legs, its just mist beneath a torn hem.

Nancy smiles and waves the figure over. "Edie! Come meet my ma, Stephanie Takamura." She says and Edith floats over. "Hello," Stephanie says, thinking of their spouse Riley and how she'd like to be snuggled up in their arms instead of here. "Hello," Edith says in that gloomy echoey voice. "Edith sweetie, where are your parents?" Stephanie asks gently. Edith scowls and floats away.

Stephanie glances at Nancy, who shrugs. "Don't mind it, mom. She's just a bit sensitive. I think she mentioned a mom named Alice in Morningvale but I don't know much else." She says. Stephanie nods. "Nooboo, I think we should head back." She suggests. "No, not yet. Please ma?" Nancy asks and Stephanie sighs. "Fine, just be careful." She says.

Nancy talks with Edith for a bit (while her mom chooses to do sit up right between them). "Edie, I read in the library that there's a mark you can give?" Nancy brings up and Edith nods, her pale eyes lit up. "Yes," she says, gesturing for Nancy to show her her arm. Nancy glances at her mom, who's now moved away and is examining the well. Shaking slightly, she holds out her arm and Edith places her hand on it. "Nancy, for you to understand my story, you need to feel the affects of this mark first. I'm sorry if it scares you but it has to be done." Edith says and Nancy opens her mouth to reply just as Edith vanishes.

Nancy blacks out for a second and when she comes to, her mom is lying on the ground. Thankfully she just fainted and is okay but Nancy's so shaken up that she agrees to go home now. "Ma, what happened?" She asks in a small voice, noticing her mom's wide and fearful eyes. "Nan, you were surrounded by this mist and I tried to talk to you but you shrieked so loud and in a voice I've never heard that I blacked out." Stephanie says and Nancy sniffles. "I'm sorry," she says in a small voice. "It's okay nooboo, it wasn't your fault. Let's get out of here." She says and Nancy nods. The two rush to their bikes, and Nancy tries to control her shaking and fear, wanting to go home and have her Ren hold her on the couch and tell her it's okay.

[ravennaortiz]

Hello my dear! Been loving this!

Brownie with Happy please with the trope 'She fell first but he fell harder'? (Admittedly inspired by one of the other requests but it will NOT leave my head 😋)

Hello dear! Yay! I'm so happy to hear that! These have been so fun to write as well! lol no worries! It is a delightful little trope :)

Alcohol and sadness were probably not the best tools for decision making you briefly thought as you stumbled over to where Happy, Tig and Chibs were sitting. The swell of jealously bubbling up again as the blonde bimbo rubbed Happys head. Who the hell was this bitch you thought to be all up on your man on your birthday? Granted no one but you knew you had laid claimed to Happy so it was an honest mistake.

You had been in love with the Tacoma Killer for years. Silently pining for him. Hoping he would pay you mind, see you as more than Koziks little sister. Yet time and time again he passed you up. Hell you felt it was obvious, you had literally moved to another state to follow him. Which in hindsight maybe made you a stalker you thought. Gulping the Tequila in the glass you let yourself tumble onto Tigs open lap.

“Tiggy” you giggled as he caught you. Your hair falling around your face had you missing the quick look he shot Happy.

“Seems someone may have celebrated a bit hard” chuckled Tig as Chibs offered you a water that you smacked away.

“I have a secret” you slurred as you hiccupped and giggled some more. Hands roaming down Tigs chest making him swallow hard as he glanced from you to Happy. The latters hard eyes narrowed into slits, toothpick being gnashed aggressively.

“I want you to take me to bed Tiggy” you stated as he grabbed your hands that had roamed dangerously close to his crotch.

“I can tuck you in, but not going to join you doll.” Laughed Tig as you frowned. But before you could say anything hands were yanking you off Tig and carrying you to the dorms.

“Put me down” you demanded as you used your fists to beat Happys back. He simply grunted and continued his journey with you flung over his shoulder until he got to his room. Kicking his door open he dropped you on his bed before turning and shutting the door.

“Sit” he ordered when you went to stand, teetering on your heels. Crossing your arms you did as he said, eyes swimming and head floating from the alcohol.

“I never want to see you in another mans lap again. You are mine” stated Happy as he turned to get in his dresser tossing a shirt and pair of sweats of his to the bed. “Change and get under the covers. We will discuss this more in the morning.”

“Hap-“ you started before stopping as he quickly stalked over to you. Hand grabbing your face as he pulled you to him, kissing you roughly. “I love you. Now be quiet, change, under covers and close your eyes. Don’t make me spank you” he demanded before pulling away from you.

[riggedbones]

ok now that chapter 2 of my fic is out I can finally share nearly everything consequence related I've been drawing over the last two months. so let's start with my design process!

it's probably pretty obvious, but I wanted consequence's design to pretty closely mirror loop's. I don't want to go into all of the reasoning behind what I decided to keep similar and what I decided should be distinct (some of it is spoilers for my fic), but generally I kept a lot of the more general design elements that seem to be a result of whatever the fuck wish craft did to make loop Like That. loop is naked? consequence is naked. loop has an objecthead? consequence has an objecthead. loop has a shape on their chest? consequence has a shape on its chest.

this all being said, I did also want to make sure that consequence was distinct. of course. my initial focus was pretty resolutely on the objecthead, as you can see in my first page of concept sketches, but I did explore some other elements early on as well!

you can also see my first concept sketch for odile's death screen, and just a smidge for the looping animation that is something i might also animate for a chapter, who knows.

more drawings and discussion under the cut, i'm realizing this is getting a bit long.

i had the node object head concept on that first page, but it was definitely something that needed iteration. which is where this page came in. i settled on the diamond shaped geode at around this point too, but was still struggling a tad on what to do with the general body texture. this was also, clearly, WAY too many squares. my beta kris told me as much.

i may be an animator but by god i love making my designs as animation unfriendly as possible sometimes. still wouldn't call consequence animation friendly at all, but i've done a lot since to cut back on the sheer volume of squares.

this was my second pass in an attempt to cut down on the complexity, still way too many squares, but this is when i started drawing the head as a foreground later of nodes with a more abstract cloud of squares behind. for the most part, just shading behind the foreground layer is still how i draw the head traditionally.

aaand then i started playing around digitally and i realized i did not like how that looked digitally. these are both doodles i did via mouse (for the second one i traced an odile sprite to help with proportions), so they're a bit looser in general, but this exercise generally let me know that i needed to slightly rethink how i was going to express the idea digitally.

because this, the final talksprite design i landed on, looks more complicated, but between the smaller amount of foreground squares and the fact that the ones in the background were just made with the rectangle tool, it's honestly not that bad. a pain to replicate? sure! but id5 reused loop's head shape for all of their art in the game, so i can do that too.

i think i solidified the idea of its body having strata before the talksprite (not sure which doodles that would be), but doing the talksprite really helped solidify the idea of a gradient in my mind, and also is where i decided on the textural element. i also decided to look at a reference image for the geode. that helped a Lot.

...i still do like drawing a more simplified consequence though. the key in my eyes is to just get the general shape of the head down, make sure you get a few of the squares floating in the air, and emphasize the nodes around its eyes. also make sure the eyes are offset vertically, it REALLY helps with the character of the design, sometimes i'll doodle a connie quence and think it looks a bit mid, move the eye on its left up, and then boom it's fine.

or you can just not do that because you drew it 2 crumbs big lol

[willowfae82]

The Witcher fic idea: Edwardian/Steampunk AU. found family/family of choice. G/Y/J friends-to-lovers and back again.

Geralt: retired mercenary turned single father in want of a tutor for his sweet, misunderstood, daughter Ciri. no one really asks how he came to be her guardian; there's rumor of a promise made when he worked for Ciri's grandmother as a bodyguard/confidant.

Ciri: outspoken will-o-the-wisp. her mother died under mysterious circumstances and she finds herself a ward of Geralt, who's Doing His Best™ but just doesn't know wtf to do with a teenage daughter. she eventually comes to love and respect her Mom and Two Dads. after some Minor Drama™ involving her 'but daddy, i love him' relationship with Dara.

Yennefer: a quiet, confident woman who's past made her grow up faster than she should have. Yennefer takes on tutelage of Ciri on the word of her mentor, Tissaia. She's made her own way determined to show the world that she can do anything she wants regardless of her circumstance.

Jaskier: a down on his luck artist. he'll do whatever it takes to make a name for himself. he's a lady's man or a man's man (he makes no qualms) who follows his own code. he's well-traveled because he's of higher social standing but he wants nothing to do with his family's money or name. he's had no-strings-attached affairs with both Geralt and Yennefer, and maintained friendships with both.

Geralt, Yennefer, and Jaskier rekindle their relationships and form a Queer Poly Triad

[vaguely-concerned]

even at this point in the story and with the romance well and truly confirmed it's very possible that lucanis has never seen even a sliver of rye's naked skin below the throat. very likely no one on the team has yet except possibly emmrich if rye got hurt in battle and needed help patching it up. high-necked watcher garb with gloves and all stay ON at all times. thank god for rye's sake that lucanis' history of romantic interest indicates that surprise bitch he could be kind of into that fhsdkjfas

[skitskatdacat63]

For everyone who wanted bullfighter Nando when I mentioned it the other day, here you go :D

+ this one I don't feel like coloring yet(imagine he's in Ferrari colors!!!)

[theyamjam]

dump of some oc stuff !!!!

[crossedwiress]

i wish we were all rose-colored too, my rose-colored boy

[sad-emo-dip-dye]

Silly hc I have but I think atsushi can talk to cats. Like fully communicate with them. Small cats big cats literally anything in the feline family he can understand. But one day he runs into natsume in cat form and freaks out cause he cant communicate anything at all and that’s how he finds out who natsume is