#i'll be there to cheer you on! (promo)

[batbabydamian]

Hey, I started reading Robin son of Batman because of your recommendation (I literally have a print of your post on my phone to not forget lol). Honestly? One of the best things I ever read!!!

Thank you for opening my eyes! Damian has been one of my favorite characters for over a year, but I didn't read/watch much of him because of school, life (and probably an executive dysfunction in the mix).

Maya is incredible. I loved her.

I haven't finished all the issues yet, but do you have any other recommendations?

WAH this makes me so happy, i'm glad you still gave it a shot even with how busy life is!! ;v;

i’d love to give reccs, and i’ll try to go a beginner friendly route! tbh you can pick up whatever here, but since you've read R:SOB i’d immediately follow up with Batman and Robin (2011) #1-8! this first arc is what’s referred to in Maya’s introduction, and it's just. so good.

Main Books

Batman and Robin (2009)

Dick as Batman with Damian as his Robin!

#20-22 Tree of Blood: Dark Knight vs White Knight arc is done by Tomasi and Gleason, the team for the next Batman and Robin series

*Batman and Robin (2011)

Bruce and Damian figuring out their relationship as both Batman & Robin and father & son

imo you can enjoy the ride and read straight through this but i’ll add context to avoid as much confusion as possible since there’s the occasional tie-in or offscreen events, like Damian’s death nbd

Batman Incorporated (2012) #1-10

events leading to Damian's death - affects Batman and Robin (2011) from issue #18

kind of a tough read especially with how Talia's written, but a lot of iconic bits like Batcow, Damian's vegetarian declaration, Alfred the cat, "We Were the Best, Richard."

Robin (2021)

another self-discovery adventure, particularly after Alfred’s death and a fallout with Bruce (and questionable writing choices from his last Teen Titans run)

Batman and Robin (2023)

currently ongoing! after a number of events, Bruce and Damian are back as a duo

Damian Dynamics!

Batman: Streets of Gotham (2009) #7, 10-12

arc where Damian meets one of his first Gotham friends, Colin Wilkes

Batgirl (2009) #5-7, #17

Steph and Damian dynamic! "the bad cop, worse cop" dysfunctional duo

Red Robin (2009) #13-14

early Tim and Damian dynamic that of course includes fighting haha. funny enough, accidentally my first intro to Damian LOL

Teen Titans (2003) #89-92

Dick!Batman has Damian join the Teen Titans. Start of Damian and Rose Wilson dynamic that’s extended in Robin (2021)

Batman: Gates of Gotham (2011)

Damian meets Cass and has a brief team up

Gotham Academy (2015) #7

Damian meets Maps Mizoguchi! they have a few other meetings, but outside of that the series itself is a great read!

Robin War Event (2015)

Robin War (2015) #1, Grayson (2014) #15, Detective Comics (2011) #47, We Are Robin (2015) #7, Robin: Son of Batman (2015) #7, Robin War (2015) #2

Duke and Damian dynamic! not exactly beginner friendly but these are the main issues in order for the event! you can also read the TPB version for everything including Tie-Ins

Nightwing (2016) #16-20, #42, #43

#16-20 Nightwing and Robin arc!

#42 Dick on a mission to save Damian! the one appearance of "Wiggles" the dragon

#43 Dick, Roy, and Damian team-up

New Talent Showcase 2018 "Catwoman: Pedigree"

Selina, Damian, and Alfred the cat

Batman: Prelude to the Wedding - Robin vs. Ra's Al Ghul (2018)

Selina, Damian, and Cheese Viking - Damian's fav game shown in Nightwing: Rebirth (2016)

Monkey Prince (2022) #1-4

Marcus Sun Shugel-Shen's main comic, but Damian features as a fun dynamic here before they're in more serious circumstances in Batman VS Robin (2022)/Lazarus Planet event

Superman (2016) #10 - 11

the beginning of the Super Sons! featuring Maya!

Super Sons (2017)

solitary arcs but there’s a few event tie-in issues later

Adventures of the Super Sons (2018)

literally more Super Sons adventures lol galactic shenanigans yeehaw

Challenge of the Super Sons (2020) 

Super Sons time shenanigans feat. the Justice League

Robin 80th Anniversary (2020)

"Boy Wonders" - brief Damian feature as Tim considers his next step in life

"My Best Friend" - Jon's thoughts on Damian and their dynamic

"Bat and Mouse" - refers to Damian's unfortunate Teen Titans (2016) run at the time of release which follows up with Teen Titans Annual #2 where Damian briefly gives up Robin

Extra Comics!

Superman/Batman (2003) #77

Kara and Damian in a Halloween team-up! also the appearance of "Li'l Matches" lol

DCU Halloween Special '09 "Cavity Search"

Damian out on a solo mission for Halloween night. Immediately after is Tim's Red Robin story "Then and Now: Our Father's Sins" which is more somber in contrast but also a good read!

DCU Halloween Special 2010 "Robin the Vampire Slayer"

a Dick!Batman and Robin story featuring the vampire Andrew Bennett

Cursed Comics Cavalcade (2018) "The Devil You Know"

Halloween themed comic with a sweet short story of Damian alongside Solomon Grundy

DC's Terrors Through Time (2022)

"Trick or Treat" a Super Sons Halloween story

"The Haunting of Wayne Manor" Damian and Deadman story - in the end, Boston kinda refers to Nezha's possession of Damian in Batman VS Robin (2022) which was happening at the time of this release

Batman: Li'l Gotham (2013)

lighthearted series that instantly makes me smile with the silliness and Dustin Nguyen’s art i love this dearly

Secret Origins (2014) #4 "A Boy's Life"

a retelling of Damian's origin story

Detective Comics (2016) #1001-1005

Batman and Robin vs the Arkham Knight (unrelated to the game)

Truth & Justice (2021) #6/#16 - 18 Digital First version

cute story of Damian’s birthday! Juni Ba’s art is so fun!!

DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration (2021) “Special Delivery”

short story about Damian! and poisoned pizzas. completely forgot the artist Sami Basri drew Rebirth Damian here before catboy Damian lol Cass’s story “Sounds” is also cute! Marcus makes his first appearance in "The Monkey Prince Hates Superheroes"

DC VS Vampires (2021)

Damian makes appearances throughout this elseworlds book, but the one-shot DC VS Vampires: Hunters (2022) is vampire Damian-centric!

Batman: Black and White (2021) #5

“Father & Son Outing” short story written and drawn by Jorge Jimenez!

Batman: Urban Legends (2021) #20-23

#20 “My Son” Talia and Bruce focus

#20 - 23 “The Murder Club” 4 Parts

Tiny Titans (2008) #33, #39, #45, #47

a few appearances but SO CUTE, LOOK AT HIM

*Batman and Robin (2011) reading guide

i'm mostly trying to avoid the "what did i just walk in on?" kinda feeling when i first started reading comics LOL i'll list the comics where events take place, but you don't necessarily have to read them to go through this book since things are usually explained as quickly as possible in the first page or so

#0 Someday Never Comes

Talia and baby Damian before he grows up to meet Bruce

#1-8 Born to Kill

just an incredibly solid arc for Bruce and Damian!

#9 Court of Owls Tie-In Issue

Damian VS a Court of Owls Talon. While Bruce is occupied with a home invasion of Talons, Alfred makes a call for allies to protect targeted Gotham public figures from Talons. During Batman (2011) #1-11

#10-12 Terminus

Damian challenges the previous Robins sans Steph

Batman Incorporated (2012) is occurring at this time where Talia has placed a bounty on Damian and there's small mentions of that

#13-14 Eclipsed/Devoured

mostly solitary arc! end of it leads into the Death of the Family event

#15-16 Death of the Family Tie-In Issues

Damian and Joker face-off... Alfred's been kidnapped by the Joker, and Damian goes looking for him. During Batman (2011) #13-17

#17 Life is but a Dream - Death of the Family Epilogue

a sort of subconscious check-in through the dreams of Damian, Alfred, and Bruce. Nightwing (2011) #17 features Damian encouraging Dick after Death of the Family events

#18 Undone "Requiem"

Bruce dealing with Damian's death from Batman Incorporated #8

other reactions to Damian's death: Dick in Nightwing (2011) #18, Tim in Teen Titans (2011) #18

#19-23 Denial, Rage, The Bargain, Despair, Acceptance

Bruce through the stages of grief with some batfam appearances in each. also introduces Carrie Kelley into continuity as Damian's acting tutor.

Batman (2011) #19-20 also addresses Bruce's loss

#23.1-23.4

these could be skipped - villain stories, also related to Forever Evil event.

#24-28 The Big Burn

optional Batman and Two-Face/Harvey Dent arc, #23.1 is part of this story!

Damian's resurrection and return

#29-32 The Hunt for Robin

Ras took Talia and Damian's bodies from their graves, and Bruce goes after him.

-> Robin Rises: Omega

continues events from #32. if you don't want to jump to this, basically, Glorious Godfrey and a bunch of parademons from Apokolips are here for a chaos shard which Ra's put in Damian's sarcophagus. at some point, Bruce gets a hold of the shard where he sees a vision that leads him to believe Damian can be resurrected. Godfrey ends up taking the shard, along with Damian's body since it was emitting the same energy.

#33-37 Robin Rises

Bruce hellbent on retrieving Damian from Apokolips and reviving him

-> Robin Rises: Alpha

necessary to read and continues events from #37! Damian's back with a bang lol

#38-40 Superpower

Damian adjusting to having superpowers and being alive again

Annual #1 2013 Batman Impossible

sweet (and funny) one-shot of Damian sending Bruce on a meaningful scavenger hunt around the world while Damian gets to be the cutest Batman for a bit

Annual #2 2014 Batman and Robin: Week One

one-shot takes place during Damian's absence. after Bruce and Alfred find a mystery gift left for Dick, Dick recounts a story he had told Damian from his Robin days.

Annual #3 2015 Moonshot

one-shot Batman and Robin adventure on the moon!

...and of course after Batman and Robin (2011), Damian's story continues in his first solo Robin: Son of Batman (2015)!

[dreamsofalife]

((TAG DUMP~))

[psiidol]

tag dump 1/?

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ RED BULL GIVES YOU WINGS.

fandom. formula one

pairing. max verstappen x snowboarder fem!reader (fc: zoi sadowski-synnott)

about. y/n l/n, olympic gold medalist, goes viral after her unusal win. her boyfriend silently cheers from the sidelines

content warnings. social media au, not edited/proofread

notes. i vaguely remember seeing the headlines (years ago) of a teen snowboarder oversleeping because he was watching netflix the night before the race LMAO. so this is kinda the inspiration for that

SKYSPORTS

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, redbull and 3'370'884 others

skysports Gold Medalist @/yourusername had a rough morning during the Winter Olympics, she overslept thanks to a late game night binge with her boyfriend. Yet despite also forgetting her coat, she takes the win by storm, all while flueled by three Red Bull's she had as breakfast.

"When me and my boyfriend sim race, we totally forget the time. It's his passion and I like to challenge him in something he thinks he's best in. I think it was 3am when I finally went to bed, luckily I found a some cans of Red Bull. You can also thank my boyfriend for that, he drinks that sh*t as if it's water."

Y/n takes the whole incident with stride, jokingly saying that she will have to repeat this routine if she wants to win gold the next time.

user SIM RACING WITH HER BOYFRIEND???

⤷ user don't know if we should thank him or not

⤷ user you'll probably never be able to thank him, y/n and her bf have been together for years now but she never revealed who it is

⤷ user does she even have a boyfriend??

⤷ user check her insta, she's been posting the same man for a long time now

user SHE'S SO FUCKING UNSERIOUS I LOVE THAT

user she's literally the definition of genz

user i don't care what anyone else says, this right here is queen shit behavior

⤷ user i crown thee, y/n l/n, to the queen of whatever this whole mess is

redbull See! Red Bull gives you wings, we take no longer any criticsm

⤷ user you better sign her up

⤷ user imagine she actually lands a red bull sponsorship just because of this

yourusername lol, that was fun

⤷ user LOL???

⤷ user i can't do this anymore 😭😭

maxverstappen1 👏👏

⤷ user MAX?!

⤷ user game recognizes game fr

user i don't know what's better. the camera catching her downing her third red bull right before the race or her cursing after she won

⤷ user meme of the year fr

YOURUSERNAME

liked by maxverstappen1, redbull and 1'552'082 others

yourusername happy to announce that i'm flying with @/redbull now! if one red bull doesn't work, try three. i won gold with it 😉

user SHE DID IT!!! Y/N NATION WE WON!!!

⤷ user now only the x games left

user can't wait for the insane promo shots

⤷ user bet she will do tricks from a cliff, right after drinking four red bulls

⤷ user straight from the skilift is my bet

redbull Proof that Red Bull gives you wings! Welcome to the family y/n ❤️💙

⤷ yourusername ❤️💙

user ahh the bigs smile makes me so happy, she deserves it

maxverstappen1 Welcome to the winners

⤷ yourusername thank you champ, i'll enjoy my stay!

user MAX LIKED AND COMMENTED

⤷ user MAXY/N NATION WE WON TODAY‼️‼️

⤷ user can we not pls... she has a bf

mathilde_gremaud welcome to the team y/n, so happy to see you here!!

⤷ yourusername thank you 😚

user i love red bull athletes welcoming newcomers

⤷ user a big family fr

⤷ user big and batshit crazy

⤷ user never said they're not lol

YOURUSERNAME

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 2'003'863 others

yourusername the moment this trophy comes in our home i will throw it off the balcony. how dare you not kiss ME when you won your fourth world championship?!

all jokes aside, maxie, i'm so fucking proud of you, my #1 racer, my favorite dutchman and cat dad 🫶 to many more years of red bull domination (max and y/n version) love you sm!!

maxverstappen1 You will not touch my trophy.

maxverstappen1 Don't worry, I'll kiss you until you're sick of me

⤷ yourusername impossible!!!

⤷ user STOP THIS

⤷ user ew, that's sickening sweet (pls don't stop you guys are the sweetest)

maxverstappen1 I love you too, schatje

⤷ yourusername i love you more

⤷ maxverstappen1 Not possible? 🤨

⤷ landonorris okay we got it, you both love each other stop this shit

⤷ yourusername @/landonorris get out of my comments if you don't like it norizz

⤷ user WHEN IS IT MY TURN??

⤷ user not lando catching strays 😭

user IT HAS BEEN MAX ALL ALONG???

⤷ user five years of softlaunching... only for us to be hit by the biggest hard launch of the decade

redbull The Red Bull Powercouple™️

⤷ user simply lovely!

landonorris fucking finally! now max can bother someone else with his yapping

⤷ yourusername max doesn't do yapping, he just loves talking about me🫶

⤷ landonorris well, i got sick of it!! i literally should've ruined your softlaunch and tell the press about you guys

⤷ maxverstappen1 That's not what a friend would do

⤷ user HOW DID LANDO KEEP THIS SECRET FOR SO LONG??

⤷ user i bet y/n threatened him with violence

⤷ landonorris she did.

⤷ user HELP?!

user if max can comment on his girlfriend's post like a sap WHY CAN'T OTHER MEN AS WELL??

⤷ user they will never be max verstappen...

user brb, the highway is calling me

user con 😭 gra 😭 tu 😭 la 😭 tions 😭😭😭

⤷ user the bf was real... i fear i'm not strong enough to fight him for mother y/n...

⤷ user at least she's happy!!! (i'm actually crying my parasocial relationship is officially over)

taglist. @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote , @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[tarjapearce]

Something post baby Benjamin blurb :

Mig

Migyel

Migeul

*MIGUEL

f uck

Tipsy fingers typed away as your vision tried to adjust at the little screen of your phone. Girls night out with Jessica and MJ had gone out a bit of control after the third mixed shots of vodka and boozy caipirinhas. MJ was driving, so she drank little. Jessica was tipsy but not as hammered as you were.

The bar and bistro's promo was sure a lovely idea to attract target people like you. Mothers that needed a break from maternity from time to time to enjoy a wonderful night among girl friends.

Whoever that had came up with it deserved a raise, as the place was crowded. The constant cheers of the moms celebrating the little milestones of their families just made the ambience even better.

Miguelitoooo

Mi amor ❤️❤️

Papasitoooo 😘😘

I'll pick you up soon

I wanna slurp you like manudo

*menudo

😋😋🥒

You're sooo hot

Miguel's lips curved as his eyes rolled over the texts. His chest flooded with a warm and shimmy feeling upon the thought of you still believing him handsome and desirable.

Even though years had gone by, and he made an effort in remaining physically active, you loved him all the same.

That made his smile bigger.

He was about to call Gwen to babysit in the meantime, but MJ let him know in the group chat that she was driving.

You arrived, careening your way towards the door and rang the doorbell a couple of times. Jessica just chuckled as Miguel held you by your waist and helped you walk to the room. His hands dexterously peeling your shoes off your feet as you fussed. He sighed

"Quédate quieta" (Stay still)

"No. E-Estoy casada" (Im married)

He chuckled and massaged your feet carefully.

"Is he a good husband?"

"Good?!"

You yelped as he had outright offended you.

"He's the best, wanna..."

You hiccuped as he helped you get comfortable in bed.

"I wanna eat him like the spicy food he loves"

Miguel laughed silently as he draped the warm and soft sheets over you.

You giggled "Nom nom nom."

He approached your temple but you batted him away

"Stop! Imma tell my husband you're... you're..."

"Alright, alright" Miguel rose his hands in defense.

"You better stay in your... sideofthe bed" Your words slurred as you curled into your pillow, mumbling Miguel's name.

Drowsiness took over, drowning any little thought that came your mouth, sleepiness had finally claimed you.

His eyes remained on you, a little sigh, almost dreamy came across his lips. He'd leave a pair of advils and a tall glass of water for you to nurse the headache in the morning.

[punksyeet]

ᰔᩚ Distance ᰔᩚ

Plot: A glimpse into a day in the life of Gianna (OC) when her man is on the road.

Warning: Mature language & over-the-phone smut!

It's 2pm and, since I had a heavy breakfast, I'm currently making a fruit bowl for lunch.

Josh always makes me these when he's home and not on the road, so I decided to make it to kinda bring me some comfort with him being gone.

For context, it's WrestleMania weekend, and he has a match tomorrow for the first night, as well as tonight for SmackDown, so he's been on the road a little extra lately.

Despite how proud I am of him, since a match against his twin brother has always been a dream for them both, it doesn't make me miss him any less.

As I finish chopping some pineapple, I throw the scraps away and hear my phone ding, signaling that I got a text message.

I wash my hands, tap on the screen, and smile as I read.

Joshua 🤍: Hi baby

My Lady ♥️: Hi lovebug <3

Joshua 🤍: How'd you sleep?

My Lady ♥️: Okay. Not nearly as good as I do when you're here.

Joshua 🤍: I know baby. Me too. But we'll be back together soon okay?

My Lady ♥️: Okay 🥲🫶🏽

Joshua 🤍: I miss you lots mama ❤️

My Lady ♥️: I miss you more 🤍

Joshua 🤍: Impossible

My Lady ♥️: Shh it's possible

Joshua 🤍: Hmm yeah? Prove it.

Smirking and raising an eyebrow, I send him some videos and pictures I took last night in my brand new lingerie.

I leave the audio on, which is filled with moans and me whimpering his name.

He'll definitely enjoy these.

My Lady ♥️: [Attachment: 2 videos, 3 images]

Joshua 🤍: Holy fuck

My Lady ♥️: I win 😏

Joshua 🤍: Damn right you do ma 😮‍💨

Joshua 🤍: When did you get that set?

My Lady ♥️: Yesterday at the mall. Do you like it?

Joshua 🤍: I love it baby. You look so sexy. I can't wait to see it on you in person when I get home.

My Lady ♥️: Thank you baby 🥹

Joshua 🤍: [Attachment: 1 image]

Joshua 🤍: Look what you do to me 👀

I'm practically drooling at the sight of his boner very visible in his black sweatpants.

I bite my lip before replying.

My Lady ♥️: Ugh I need that inside me right about now 😩

Joshua 🤍: Mmm soon enough baby ❤️

My Lady ♥️: I miss you so much :(

Joshua 🤍: I miss you too beautiful. And I love you. More than anything. 🫶🏽

My Lady ♥️: I love you too <3

Joshua 🤍: Alright I have a promo with Jon in a few so I gotta go fix this new issue I have in my pants. I'll call you later, okay?

My Lady ♥️: LOL sounds good baby. I'll be watching. 🤍

Joshua 🤍: I know you will babygirl ❤️

You loved "I know you will babygirl ❤️"

Ugh this man drives me crazy.

I set my phone down and continue making my fruit bowl.

Once I'm finished, I take everything out to the backyard and sit at the table.

I unlock my phone and open the kickoff show YouTube stream to my man's entrance music.

He's dressed in a blue YEET crop top, matching glasses, black sweatpants, white air forces, his silver Cuban link chain, and fan bracelets.

I pop a piece of watermelon in my mouth and smile, as he comes out onto the stage and the crowd goes wild.

He's so over with the crowd it's crazy.

I'm so happy for and proud of him. <3

A few minutes have gone by and the promo is coming to a close.

"Tomorrow night," he begins. "Jimmy and Jey. Tomorrow night we stand on business. Man, tomorrow night, you boutta catch this yeet-down."

The crowd follows up his quote with a "YEET!"

"And if you want Jimmy Uso to catch this yeet-down," he continues. "Then lemme hear you say YEET!"

The crowd, once again, answers him with "YEET!" and cheers as his music plays.

I smile and clap my hands, feeling extra proud of him.

I love Jon like a brother, but I just know my man has this match in the bag.

I decide to shoot him a quick little text:

Me: You killed that shit baby. So proud of you! 🥹🤍

I finish up my fruit and, as I'm washing out the bowl, my phone rings. I smile when I see it's from my best friend and Josh's sister in law, Trinity.

G: Hey Trin!

T: Hey babygirl! How are you?

G: I'm good! Just finished watching the guys' promo. You?

T: Ugh me too girl. I'm nervous but, no matter who comes out on top, they're gonna kill it tomorrow.

I smile, nodding in agreement.

G: Agreed! So what's up with you?

T: Not much, girl. I actually called to invite you over. I'm feeling pretty lonely without Jon here and I'd imagine you're feeling the same way about Josh.

I let out a deep sigh.

G: Girl you have no idea.

She giggles.

T: Come over then! We can go in the pool, take some cute pictures, and spend some time together. That way we can keep them off our minds for a bit.

I smile and dry off the bowl.

G: Sounds like a plan girlfriend. I'll be over in about an hour or so.

She squeals and claps her hands.

T: Period! I'll see you soon babe!

We say our goodbyes and I head upstairs to shower and get ready.

I decide on a simple yellow cheeky bikini, throw a tube top and denim shorts over it, then head out.

—————————————————————————————————

I've been over at Trin's for a few hours now.

Our reason for hanging out has been quite the success: while I still miss Josh a ton, she's been keeping my mind off of it.

We decided to order in our favorite Chinese takeout and tune into SmackDown.

Specifically, Josh and his little brother Joseph aka Solo Sikoa’s match.

As my man is about to pin him, Jon comes running in from beside the ring, stopping the count.

I sigh and take a bite of my sesame chicken as Trin sucks her teeth. "He's so messy and for what?"

I shake my head letting out a soft giggle. "Girl that's your man. You're allowed to support him, I'll be okay."

She playfully shoves my arm and we share a laugh, before the crowd's cheering gets our attention and we turn back to the TV.

The camera pans to Cody Rhodes and Seth Rollins running out to the ring.

Eventually, they make it and fight off Jon and Solo, saving my man.

A soft smile appears on my face as Josh climbs to the top rope and delivers an Uso Splash to his twin.

"Girl," Trin says breathlessly, before taking a sip from her wine glass. "This rivalry got me all the way fucked up."

I nod in agreement. "Amen to that. Hopefully after tomorrow they can just hug it out and make up."

She nods and we share a laugh, then proceed to watch the rest of the show.

After another few hours of watching our favorite romcoms, eating, and sharing laughs, it's past midnight and I decide to head home.

"Alright boo," Trin says, leaning against my window once I'm in my car safely. "Drive safely and please text me once you get home."

"I will," I reply, and we share yet another hug through the window. "I love you."

"I love you too babygirl," she exclaims.

We say our goodbyes and I head off.

About 15 minutes into driving, my phone rings and reveals that Josh is FaceTiming me.

I smile, connect my phone to bluetooth, prop it up so that he can see me, and answer.

His gorgeous face pops up on my screen.

He seems to be laid in his hotel room bed, with his arm propped behind his head.

G: "Hi lovebug."

J: "Hey babygirl. Where you headed at this time of night?"

G: "Home. I was at Trin's place for a while. We had a pool day and watched the show together."

J: "Aw that sounds nice."

I smile while stopping at a red light and lift up my arms to stretch, yawning in the process.

He smiles, just sitting there watching me.

J: "Tired mama?"

G: "Exhausted. I can't wait to take a shower and sleep."

He lets out a chuckle.

J: "I bet. I wish I was there to help you relax."

G: "Me too baby. I miss you."

J: "I miss you more ma. But I'll be home before you know it."

I nod, giving him a soft smile and turning onto our block.

Soon enough, I park my car in our driveway and head into the house, locking the door behind me.

I shoot Trin a text while still on the phone with Josh:

Gigi 💗: Hey sis. I just made it home. 🤍

Trin 🥰🫶🏽: Good to hear girl. It was so good seeing you today. ❤️

Gigi 💗: Same here. Love you! 🫶🏽

Trin 🥰🫶🏽: Love you too! Sleep well. 🥰

You loved “Love you too! Sleep well. 🥰”

I smile and close my tabs, going back to the FaceTime with my man.

Assuming he's getting ready for a shower, he peels his shirt off, revealing his gorgeously toned torso and perfectly caramel colored tattooed skin.

Fuck I miss that body so badly.

He must've caught me lacking, because he smirks and raises an eyebrow.

J: "You like what you see, baby?"

I bite my lip, nodding.

G: "You know I do. I miss having that body all to myself every night."

J: "Who says you can't?"

I raise an eyebrow, clearly confused, before he continues.

** tiny smut warning! **

J: "Get those clothes off and lay down for me, mama."

I bite my lip and stare at the screen for a second as he sexily pulls down his sweats and boxers, allowing his dick to spring free.

I prop up my phone so that he can see me and slowly peel off my clothes as well.

He begins to get hard and strokes himself at the sight of my now naked body.

J: "Fuck baby. Your body...the things it does to me...you're so dangerous."

I sit on my knees and massage my breasts, sticking out my tongue and allowing my saliva to drip onto them.

J: "Good girl baby. Play with those tits for daddy. You know just what I like."

After a few minutes of this, we move onto my lower half.

"F-fuck daddy! Just like that!" I moan, my head thrown back, pumping my fingers in and out of my hole.

Josh moans along with me, stroking his now wet hand from the base to the tip of his dreamy dick, never taking his eyes off of me.

J: "I want you to cum for daddy. Let go. Can you do that for me?"

"U-uh huh," I reply, my fingers still at work, except now they're making rapid circles on my clit.

J: "Use your words for daddy, baby."

"Y-yes daddy!" I utter out in between moans, slowly but surely reaching my climax.

J: “Good girl.”

Just seconds later, I feel a pit in my stomach.

“D-daddy! I’m so fucking close!” I practically scream.

J: “Cum for daddy, baby. Gimme that shit.”

My body jerks as warm, white liquid pours out of me and onto the bed.

J: "Pick up your phone baby. Daddy wants to watch all that cum spill out of your pretty lil pussy."

I do as he says and, soon enough, I've made a huge mess all over our sheets.

And as if on cue, he hits his climax as well.

** smut over! **

"Fuck," I whisper breathlessly, laying back and panting like a nut job.

I can hear deep breaths coming through his side of the phone as well.

J: "You did so well for me baby. And once I get home, it's gonna be even sweeter."

I nod, my mouth still hanging open.

He chuckles and cleans up his mess, as I quickly change our sheets and get ready for my shower.

"I'm gonna get in the shower and hop in bed," I exclaim, my voice just above a whisper. "I'll call you in the morning?"

He nods. "Sounds good, mama. Go get some rest. I love you."

I give him a soft smile. "I love you too, baby. Good night."

We say our goodbyes and he even kisses me through the phone, causing me to giggle before we hang up.

I toss my phone aside and head into the bathroom.

I take a steaming hot everything shower, do my nighttime skin care, brush my teeth, all of that.

Once finished, I climb into bed and tuck myself under the covers.

I reach over and grab one of Josh's pillows from his side of the bed and snuggle it.

It smells heavenly - just like him.

The scent brings me automatic comfort, and within minutes, I drift off to sleep.

Liked by uceyjucey, trinity_fatu, zillafatu, romanreigns, and 2.6M others

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[en-chi-la-da]

attention hinadam nation!!!!!

(taps mic) after much deliberation between myself and my brain over the past few days, as the current reigning President of Hinadam™ i have made the challenging yet satisfying decision to host the upcoming Hinadam Week event!! (audience claps and cheers) ...next year!! (a single tomato smacks me right in the mouth)

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT jokes aside, i want a hinadam week to happen SO BAD and i would love to contribute to it so i figure, kill two birds with one stone and just host the dang thing myself. :) the original plan was to host it in December of this year and have it end on Gundham's birthday, but i felt like restricting myself (and others) to only having 2 months to plan for everything (make promo art, come up with prompts, prepare my own art ahead of time, ect.) while still working and having to prepare around the holidays was not enough time to be able to host the week successfully (or at least in a way that i could be satisfied with), so i think moving the week to sometime in early 2025 (Jan/Feb) would be the better idea. plus, i wanted to give anybody else who wanted to contribute more time to hear about the event and make their own content for it. i've also never hosted a ship week myself before! so i want to take the time to make sure everything is done correctly on my end and not rushed for any other contributors and artists who wanted to participate. 👍🏼

after a bit more time, i'll make the blog and create the first post as a sort of interest check for the dr fandom, so i can get a better idea of how to move forward with hinadam week and maybe get some more feedback from those who would love to participate! :)c

that's all i've got for now, but more info will be coming soon! sorry for the long post but thank you for reading! any and all feedback is appreciated! 🦔💜🐹

[sgdlr-asdfghjkl]

Link Click Dance Musical Masterlist 🔍🕺

(for tips on navigating weibo check my first LC Musical Masterlist)

#街舞音乐剧时光代理人# <- 'Time Agents Hip-hop Musical' main hashtag. However, the content bleeds to an abundance of other tags like the general LC tag or the other ongoing LC Musical tag, so don't be surprised ><'

街舞音乐剧时光代理人出品方 <- official weibo profile of Dance Musical's producer. Lots of behind the scenes and promo photos and clips (tho after a while of scrolling their acc, weibo will ask you to log in 😔).

#LinkClickHipHopMusical <- twitter tag (mostly run by Santa fans, but they seem to be doing a good job at reporting the event ❤)

街舞音乐剧时光代理人 <- 'Time Agents Hip-hop Musical' specific tag (the 'diamond tag', weibo just has these ok?)

🕺🎶Staff & Supporting cast

Liu Ai, musical director - I don't think she has a weibo acc ><, but you can see her appear in rehearsal videos and during press conferences (she's the lady with curly hair and glasses)

Bunta Kawasima - choreography director (he also plays Liu Min, so all his links are in 'Actors' section), CHIBIUNITY director

李沫萱FeiJi <- weibo of Li Moxuan, composer and music producer (she appears in a rehearsal video, one with a v short hair)

CHIBIUNITY <- an entire linktree of a Japanese dance group. Some of its members perform in LC Dance Musical as backup dancers. To be specific:

link to a video of them all doing a promo photoshoot ^^

🌟Actors

Formatting note: their personal weibo profile & actor specific hashtag (the 'diamond tag', you find the most stuff here) + since some of the cast members are Japanese and/or have a widespread idol background, they also have non-chinese social media accounts 🙏

Lu Guang

Zheng Yibin - @郑艺彬工作室 郑艺彬

2nd weibo (Zheng Yibin Studio): 郑艺彬工作室 Instagram: @zhengyibin_moonlight Youtube: ZhengYibin郑艺彬 Moonlight Global Fanbase Twitter: @ZhengYibinM

Cheng Xiaoshi

Uno Santa - @赞多SANTA Santa赞多

Instagram: @santazanduo311 Youtube: SANTA DANCE Twitter: @santa_zanduo TikTok: santadance_

Qiao Ling

Zhao Jialin - @赵佳琳嘻 赵佳琳嘻

Wu Lihua (Emma)

Shen Ni - @申霓���大霓 申霓

Liu Min

Bunta Kawasima - @BUNTA-CHIBIUNITY bunta

Instagram: @bunta04 Twitter: @b_peterpan

Zhu Ye (Emma's boss)

Liang Xiaomo - @梁宵默 梁宵默

Liu Min & Cheng Xiaoshi Understudy

Wu Wenjun - @_吴汶骏 演员吴汶骏

As for the 'understudy', TIL what it means:

🔍 Additional tags

Zero-Generation零纪演艺 <- I think it's an entertainment agency connected to the Dance Musical cast in some way (for verification)

街舞音乐剧时光代理人首演 <- 'Premiere of Time Agents hip-hop musical' tag probably relevant only today, but I'll leave it here if anyone wants to ever revisit it ^^

#赞多出演时光代理人程小时# <- 'Zando performing as time agent CXS', tag focused on Uno Santa playing as CXS (tag for Clauses I guess ^^' For those who don't know Zando is a popular idol)

______________________________________________________

I'll try to add missing tags later 💪 And if you find any mistakes or a broken links, please let me know 🙏

OKAY CHEERS 🎉

[madhatterbri]

Care | HOOK

Summary: Hook and you broke up. Anna with the help of Jack uses this to come for your championship belt. An unexpected hero saves you.

Author's Note: GIF has nothing to do with this it just makes me feral. 😭🤌

As always, requests. 🥺🥺

Life is hard working for a wrestling company. Friendships and relationships constantly came and went. You travel a lot and spent time with fellow wrestlers more than your own family. You swore you would never be with anyone in AEW until you laid eyes on Hook.

The relationship was physical at first. You both wanted to have sex without feeling bad for someone waiting for you to come home. It was nice at the beginning. You two would meet up together after the show. Times changed when you started developing feelings.

You were honest with him, but he wasn't interested in a relationship. The two of you were young. He wanted to experience the world. More like experience girls around the world. In order to avoid anymore hurt, you two decided to go your separate ways. That was three months ago.

Now you were getting ready to cut a promo in the ring. Your make-up was done and the championship belt was secure on your shoulder. Tonight was simple enough, anger Anna Jay. The two of you hated each other. It wouldn't be hard.

The unsettling feeling of someone watching you made the hairs on your neck stand. You turned to see the handsome devil himself. He was in a hoodie and sweatpants eating chips. His mind seemed to be in a different galaxy, but he was definitely staring at you. You missed being able to talk to him. Maybe that was a resolution for another year.

The familiar sound of your entrance music played in the arena. You walked out to the top of the ramp. The crowd went wild. Fans of different ages reached out for you to high five them.

The microphone was handed to you. An once rowdy crowd was quiet to hear you. You spoke your piece about Anna. Some of the insults were low. Tony gave you the green light to rile up Anna. You were going to take it. Your speech was cut off by Anna's music.

Anna came out with Jack in tow. She stormed to the ring. You dropped your championship belt in the middle of the ring to meet her outside the ropes. Anna was the first to swing. The two of you landing blows on each other. You never noticed Jack grabbing your championship belt from the ring.

"You think your fuck buddy is going to save you, Y/N?" She asked menacingly. You hadn't thought you would really need help. Normally, you weren't really put in jeopardy of actually losing the belt you worked so hard for.

"I don't need anyone," you scoffed. "I got in this business alone and I'll fight and die alone,"

"You think your are so funny?"

"Actually? Yeah," you answered truthfully. The crowd laughed at your corny jokes. You had to be funny. Anna pushed you to the ground. You landed on your hands and knees facing away from her.

'Rude,' you thought before getting up. You stood up and faced her. Before you could attack, Anna kicked you into the stairs. A scream of anguish sounded through the arena.

"What the fuck?" You asked yourself. Immediately the crowd gasped as their women's champ went down. Your head and back slammed to the stairs. Anna stood above you as you slid to the floor. The championship belt displayed on her shoulder. The camera zoomed in on the two of you. Your eyes pleaded for someone to help you.

"This is going to be mine, Y/N. I'm going to beat your ass until I say I'm tired. Do you understand me?" She yelled at you. You moved your legs as if to get up. She stood on your leg to stop you. Painful throbbing occurred under her foot.

The arena went dark. You were starting to wonder if you passed out. Your head throbbed and you were pretty sure your upper back fell out. The familiar rift of Chairman's Intent felt like an angel's song. Cheers filled the arena.

"We gotta go!" Jack yelled to her. Anna dropped the belt and ran with him into the audience.

Hook was at your side.

"Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?"

"I was hoping she'd kick that shitty attitude out of you," he countered and helped you to your feet. Hook grabbed your belt knowing how possessive you were with it. Your legs wobbled as he helped you up the ramp. Several members of the crowd wished you a speedy recovery.

You limped to medical with him helping you inside. Hook helped you on the bed while you waited for the doctors to run their tests on you.

"Thanks. I didn't think anyone was going to save me,"

"You didn't think I would save you?" He questioned.

"I didn't think you would care."

"I've always cared,"

[thesithdiaries]

Betrayed (Damien Priest/TJD imagine)

Summary: Adding a new member to the group isn't a bad idea if the person is trustworthy but what if that person wants to ruin everything?

Pairing: Damien Priest x female!reader, platonic TJD x female!reader

Warnings: wrestling, violence, cursing, mentions of bad anxiety, mention of injury

-

Anxiety. That's all Y/N felt. It was crippling. She couldn't sleep, couldn't concentrate.

The end was near, she could feel it.

Y/N joined The Judgement Day two months after Dominik Mysterio because Rhea had taken an interest in her. They had all seen what Y/N could do in and outside of the ring, she was also a fan favorite, regardless of what she did.

Damien’s interest, however, went beyond work. He fell first and fell hard. Y/N thought it was a silly crush on his part, even though she had a crush on him as well, but thanks to Dom, they realized how crazy they were for each other.

Over dinner, Dom couldn’t resist and had to speak up. “You two seem close, you know?”

Damien and Y/N looked at each other. “What do you mean?” Damien asked.

Dom smirked. “I mean, have you ever considered that there might be more to your friendship than just being coworkers?”

Y/N and Damien blushed. They stammered, trying to come up with an explanation, but the truth was that Dom had figured it out.

Dom leaned in to talk. “Look, it’s okay if you’re into each other. Sometimes the best relationships start as friendships.”

As Dom left their hotel room that evening, Damien and Y/N found themselves alone. The atmosphere had changed, and they both realized that Dom had been right. Their connection ran deeper than friendship, and they had been oblivious to it.

Y/N managed to find the courage to speak first. “Damien, Dom was right. I think I might have feelings for you.”

Damien smiled. “Y/N, I was going to say the same thing. I’ve been crazy about you for a while now.”

Y/N was currently out of action due to a shoulder injury, but still went to the weekly shows and traveled with everyone despite their protests.

The tension has been thick since Summerslam. Damien and Finn were not on the same page at all, and Y/N could feel the riff. Rhea had tried to fix it and make them get along. That only lasted a few hours, because they would find something to argue about. And, to make things worse, JD McDonagh entered the picture.

He was Finn’s friend, who liked to meddle and get into people's business. Y/N knew what it meant, knew what was about to happen and there was no way she could stop it.

“That briefcase has to go, bro,” is what JD said to Damien the night after Payback. Y/N eye's widened at his audacity, quickly holding Damien’s bicep before he could even reply. “Look, you don't need it. Look at you guys, you have all the gold. You don't need that briefcase, you need this one.”

JD reveals a purple briefcase that says “Señor Money in the Bank”. Y/N couldn't hide her grimace, what the fuck was that? Everyone around her was cheering, Rhea and the boys were surprised and seemed to like it.

Y/N didn’t.

-

She sat on a storage box in the hallway, anxious. Her stomach was turning.

“Hey babe,” Damien called, standing in front of her. “There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you.”

Y/N smiled softly at him but focused her gaze on her twiddling fingers.

“What's wrong?” He asked with concern, “Are you feeling okay? Is it your shoulder?”

“No no, I'm okay, it's just that…” Y/N looked up at him, frowning. “I don't think you should use that briefcase. I have a bad feeling.”

Damien raised an eyebrow, “Why? I don't think JD did anything to it though.”

Y/N shook her head. “It's just too much of a coincidence. At first, he tells you to get rid of it and now he gives you a new one. I really don't think you should use it.”

He glanced at the briefcase he was holding, contemplating what she said. “It'll be fine, I promise.” Someone from the crew called him from the other end of the hallway. “I have to do a promo with Finn, I'll be right back,” Damien gave her a soft peck on her lips before turning and walking away.

Y/N went to find Rhea, maybe she could help her.

-

Rhea was sitting on a couch with Dom, watching some funny video.

“Hey Rhea, can we talk?” Y/N asked.

“Sure, what's up?” She replied, not looking up.

“Alone,” Y/N added after hesitating for a few seconds. Both of them looked at her, and Rhea got worried because of her expression.

“Come on,” Rhea quickly jumped to her feet and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards a secluded part. “Are you okay?”

"Rhea," Y/N began, "I don't want to sound paranoid or anything, but I've got this gut feeling about JD. Something just doesn't sit right with me."

Rhea turned to Y/N, her eyebrows furrowing in curiosity. "What do you mean? JD seems like a nice guy, and he's been friends with Finn forever. Sure, he's annoying but if Finn trusts him, shouldn't we?"

Y/N sighed, "I know, but that's the thing. I can't explain it, but I can't shake this feeling that something's off about JD and the new briefcase he gave to Damien."

Rhea softly brushed her fingers on Y/N’s cheek, studying her expression. "I get that you're worried, but it's going to be fine. Finn has known JD for years, and they've got this weird deep bond. I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt. If we see something weird, we tell Finn."

Y/N nodded, appreciating Rhea's attempt to reassure her. "You're probably right," she said, trying to convince herself. "I just need to stop overthinking things."

-

Over the next few weeks, Y/N tried her best to push those thoughts away. She watched JD closely but couldn't find anything specific to validate her feelings. The group seemed to finally enjoy JD's company, and he effortlessly slipped into their routines and conversations.

That night, Seth Rollins had a match against Gunther and lost. He was lying mostly unconscious in the middle of the ring with a referee and two paramedics attending to him.

Damien took the opportunity, running out with his briefcase. Y/N ran after him, both excited and scared. That weird feeling she tried suppressing for so long was slowly creeping up on her. What if?

He got in the ring, pushing his briefcase into the ref’s hands, “Go! Quick!”

Y/N watched as Samatha Irwin, a producer, and the referee talked, for what seemed to be a long time. The ref turned to look at Damien, “You can't use this.” Y/N who was about to enter the ring stopped, holding the rope while feeling faint.

“What do you mean?” Damien yelled, furious. “It's not expired.”

“There's no contract in this briefcase.”

Damien turned to look at Y/N for a quick second, who was shaking her head in disbelief. No contract? But where could it… Oh. Oh no. It's in the green briefcase. The crowd started going crazy but nobody was paying attention until a yelp made them look.

Y/N was pulled by her feet, causing her to fall and hit her head on the edge of the ring. Feeling dizzy, she looked up and saw a familiar face… JD McDonagh. He grabbed a chair, hitting her repeatedly on her shoulder, agitating her injury. Y/N cried, trying to push herself away from the hits but it wasn't stopping.

Damien wanted to save her and beat JD’s ass as he heard those horrible screams but he couldn't, because someone hit him on the back of the head repeatedly and pushed him out of the ring.

Disoriented, he saw how Finn Bálor handed the green briefcase to the referee, urging him to call it. Samantha, outraged and confused, still had to do her job announcing that Finn was cashing in “his” Money in the Bank contract.

The crowd got louder. Damien turned his head groggily to see Rhea and Dom running down the ramp. Their faces were red with anger. Rhea quickly got rid of JD, knocking him out cold. Her heart was beating uncontrollably as she saw the state Y/N was in. Dom was helping Damien up, both of them walking where the girls were.

Everything was happening quickly. Finn managed to secure the victory, pinning Seth and becoming the new champion. Finn grabbed the belt and raised it high, finally getting what he wanted. The boos from the crowd were deafening.

He and Damien locked eyes. Finn had a smirk on his face while Damien looked somber. “You will regret this,” he informed him, making the new champion laugh.

Damien picked Y/N up trying to not hurt her shoulder more. “I’m sorry I didn't listen to you,” he admitted in a whisper as they walked backstage. Y/N didn't reply, only nestled her face on his shoulder. Rhea was yelling curses all over and throwing things around while Dom tried to calm her down.

The Judgement Day lost a member that day. Damien and Rhea felt like shit for not listening to Y/N. She was right all along.

[samijey]

broke my promise to myself and actually watched the jey/gunther match and let me tell you... whoever booked that finish wanted jey to look like an idiot. mega rant under the cut which you should honestly read im not your mama but you should read it

he splashes gunther after getting dominated for 80% of the match and an (honestly underwhelming) spear and we're meant to believe the +2yr champion who's beaten virtually everyone on the roster (including drew who recently beat jey TWICE) was about to be defeated right there?......okay............ but it gets worse

when the referee (for no real good reason) stops the count at 2 after jimmy rings the bell, jey "forgets" about gunther and turns his back to him, allowing gunther to get back up almost IMMEDIATELY (remember we were meant to think he was about to be beaten 5 seconds earlier) yet jey quickly superkicks him BUT THEN decides to dive at jimmy on the outside instead of going directly for another splash (girl help) so ofc when he does go for the splash, gunther gets the knees up, and to add a cherry on top of this shit sunday, pins jey right there after performing no extra offense - doesn't even roll him up, jey just lies there flat on his back and gets pinned (while michael cole screams "GUNTHER ROLLS UP JEY USO" to make me even more mad, apparently, as zero actual rolling takes place in the ring - just a leg hook & weight on the shoulders combo... and not a particularly vicious one either) I just ??????

and of-fucking-course as the TV feed gets cut, cue cody and punk who come out all smiles ready to do the usual fanservice routine for the live crowd and suddenly jey is mostly done selling what just happened and is smiling along with whatever you wanna call it - sending the crowd home happy?? since when did that become mandatory for broadcast shows??? why can't emotionally devastating moments count just as much when it comes to delivering a satisfying ending to the live crowd??? are you telling me they couldnt have had jey walk to the back WHILE SELLING the heartbreak/frustration of what happened and THEN send cody out to do the fanservice thing??? fuck maintaining suspension of disbelief I guess - you can't even argue that "it's fine it was just a treat for the live crowd" because WWE has posted the footage everywhere and promoted it heavily.

imagine if after the camera stopped rolling at last year's rumble, sami had got up, undone kevin's handcuffs and they both hugged and cut a cheerful promo at the crowd - everyone would've blasted wwe for undermining the impact of that finish and not letting the moment breathe.

here's another, even more similar example - remember what happened after summerslam when jimmy attacked jey? he sold the devastation of the moment all the way until he exited the arena, so why is this any different? because it's "just" TV and not a PPV? nah, i'll tell you why: because wwe does not give a shit about this current version of jey's character - he's there to spew the same catchphrase 100x an hour (because it sells merch and pops the crowd let's be honest), display a grand total of two personality traits, and rub his popularity off onto the people wwe actually consider stars

for comparison - you cannot tell me that if it was cody in this position (just lost an important match thanks to the most important person in his life + got attacked by them on top of it) wwe wouldn't have had him look devastated or cut an emotional, tearful promo that would've then been posted and promoted everywhere

"chill, it's not that serious" my apologies for wanting something i love (and KNOW can be so much better with minimal effort) to have a basic level of logic and thought put into it, it's not like wrestling booking is rocket science and we know wwe is NOT incapable of actually delivering good stuff 🤷??? the standards for this show are so damn low and seeing no one else be bothered by it does my fucking head in ouch ouch wheres the aspirin bye

[yiga-hellhole]

TFTK: CHAPTERS 21&22

Ghirahim copes with the aftermath of his conspiracy. What is a blade to do, without a hand to wield it?

I'VE kept you all waiting for quite a bit haven't i. well i'm making it up to you! 2 chapters in one go! one VERY big thank you to @bulgariansumo and @orfeoarte for betareading these. quite a bit happens in the aftermath of zant's betrayal... i'll let it speak for itself.

the promo art for these chapters was heavily inspired by, and is basically an homage, to Houseki no Kuni's volume 7 cover! HnK influences a lot of my writing tone and symbolism. i really recommend it!!

this chapter has a bonus of another new language... protogermanic! it's written in elder futhark. you'll have to wiktionary the rest! teehee! (it's not plot-relevant, just a little easter egg for you all!)

ao3 mirror

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16

CW for: graphic violence, toxic relationship, suicidal ideation (brief mention)

From the shadow of one colossal threat, into the other. This one weighed on him far heavier. Ghirahim stood in the cold dark of Zant’s chambers, for a moment, taking refuge in the first second before his eyes could adjust. Ever-so-indulgently, he blinked just a little longer than he had to, shrouding himself in the comfort of that shadowy blanket and shielding himself from what he would now have to undertake. When he opened his eyes again, he glared at the shape lying on the bed. When he strained his ears, he could hear a squeaky wheeze, little grunts of pain spotting through his breath. 

Perhaps he had been a little too optimistic, hoping for Zant to have succumbed in his absence. Ghirahim approached the bed, the injured Twili upon it heaving his blankets with his arduous breathing. Neither of them had noticed he was still holding the Demon Scimitar. What good would it have done, to be any more aware of that frivolous thing? Ghirahim could forget about any urge, any fantasy, of using it to pounce upon him and flay him where he lied. With every step closer, that little dagger all but shook in his hands, cheering to see its beloved alive, though not well. It exploded into a cloud of diamonds, each shred and particle snaking back into Ghirahim's core by a trail. Such bothersome affection was best left where he could keep watch of it, and lock it away, deep where he could no longer feel it. All until this rotten fool would recover, rip it from him, and drag him about by the strings of his weakness all over again, no doubt.

Six seconds. That was how long he spent in that chamber, up until that point, when a flash of light broke through the gaps in the curtains, and briefly cast the room in dim light. Another second and the thunderous roar of a massive impact followed. The whole castle shook, dust raining down from the ceiling, the contents of shelves jolting in place and tumbling to the floor, glass and ceramics shattering on the spot, and wooden furniture rattling on their legs. The screws from Zant’s canopy bed gave way. A curtain rod, drapes and all, dislodged from its place and bared the fallen Twilight King to the little light that made it through the windows.

The tremors subsided at last. All of the palace – no, the world, was eerily silent. Sand, carried across the desert by the shockwave, pelted against the outside walls and spewed through the curtains. Ghirahim approached the bed, grains crunching beneath his feet.

Peering at him through swollen eyelids, Zant turned his head ever so slightly. “Your last gambit, I take it?”

Ghirahim deigned to answer. A last gambit, indeed, but one he never wanted to play. Majora’s words rang in his head, clear as day.

“... use it wisely, for when the tides of war turn irreversibly against your favor.”

Oh, and how the tides had turned. In one fell swoop, Ghirahim had lost both the battle and his Master, both of these promises doomed for failure from the very start. By accepting Majora’s allegiance, all in the name of the pitiful man now lying wheezing before him, those very tides crashed into him again, only from a different angle. Now that he stood there, wave-beaten as he was, the water cleared from his eyes. He could see just how laughable of a trap he’d fallen for. In calling Majora to his aid, Ghirahim silently wondered whose hands he had played into.

Zant stammered through this silence. It seemed he could not go a single minute without ushering his little plans along. “We cannot stay here. In the next few hours, those taking refuge in the dungeons will free themselves from their barricades and swarm through the Palace. If they find us–”

“Our lives will not remain secret” Ghirahim interrupted. “I get it. You want me to find some alternate place, yes? Or, even more probable, you already know exactly where you want to go?”

Zant averted his gaze. If Ghirahim didn’t know any better, he’d think it was an expression of guilt. Though, a playful one, like that of a prankster caught in the middle of their schemes. It may as well have been, to a man like him. 

“Do you remember… That ruined little village in the woods?” Zant asked, finally.

“I do.” 

Questions he once would have freely blurted out with a wry smile now refused to move, lodged somewhere in his throat by their barbs. They buzzed in place, instead, like cicadas stuck in their husks. Was there even a single house intact? Would such shabby lodging truly be up to his standards? But to return to such banter, nothing would feel more unnatural. In choosing to remain with this man, his capricious yet determined self was cut off from whatever steered him now. 

So Ghirahim stood and said nothing further; simply stared.

Zant took his silence as a prompt to continue. “I spied one house on the outskirts, I believe, that could at least shelter us until I recover. I was considering our base at Eldin, first, but I do not trust it to be properly deserted. For the time being, if you could take us there…”

“Yes. Fine.” Zant’s words were full of implicit little meanings as usual. Teleport us there. Clear the coast. Bring bandages. Bring bedding. Steal whatever food you think we can use. Take every God-damned thing that you value because we are not coming back. And don’t get caught. 

Once, he thought reading into his every word was a skill, a convenience that made the two of them more efficient than any other pair. How awfully intrusive it felt now! As if Zant, instead, wormed his way into his mind, and commandeered him as he pleased!

Ghirahim’s arms hooked under the fold of Zant’s knees and around his shoulders all the same, cradling the injured man to his chest. To let that line of thought go any further was to suspect a past weakness where he had once seen strength. He thoroughly had enough of those today. To dig any deeper, to realize –

Zant’s head slumped to the side, burying his face in the nape of Ghirahim’s neck. He was burning up. Of all the wounds he’d sustained that day, one of them was bound to fester. Ghirahim supposed he would have to snatch some coriander along the way for a tincture or two, and –

Oh, Hell. 

—

Their arrival at the abandoned town had been uneventful. War was raging on beyond the treeline, miles and miles away, but in this forest, the simple cycle of life and death turned and turned along as though the world had been quiet. Birds rooted around in piles of fallen leaves for their morsels, bucks bellowed for their harems further out in the woods, and rodents hurried for cover, away from these strange new arrivals, as though they’d been the only disturbance for years. It felt thoroughly undeserved. Ghirahim’s life was on fire. It would only have been fair for this place to feel its cinders, too. 

But if everything was judged by his standard of fairness, he never would have left Ganondorf’s side. Zant would have been wearing his usual stupid, blindly loyal smile beside them both, and they would have Hyrule’s ashes stomped to coals beneath their feet. Instead, Ghirahim stood inside the last standing house of this village, surrounded by bare necessities. Zant lay in a makeshift cot, sweating a fever away tucked in the shadows of the room. Finding a spot for him had been a bit of a challenge. The place was littered with uncovered windows and a hole in the roof let in a persistent beam of sunlight even if he managed to fashion some curtains. Ghirahim sat against the wall across the Twili, face buried in the comfort of his favorite cloak. Termites and lichen made their home in the logs pressed against his back – how this place hadn’t collapsed along with the rest of the village, Ghirahim couldn’t say. Zant would probably have some long-winded theory about it all, but if he heard even another squeak out of that man before sundown, he wouldn’t hold himself responsible for whatever happened next.

And night did fall, after hours spent in nothing but solitude. Ghirahim sporadically flitted about the house, passing through like a ghost. Through the windows, the forest’s naked branches clacked in the wind like the dead waving their skeletal arms. One way or the other, he supposed the memory of those he wiped from the face of the earth in Gerudo Desert, sent its regards. But the Desert was far behind them now, their belongings scattered across the floor or bundled up in chests throughout the little house. They would not return. 

Ghirahim sat outside as the sun sank below the treeline, poking at the cinders of a fire pit he’d set up a little ways from their shelter. The night air was a little easier out in the open, without the soft sounds of suffering keeping him so dreadfully on edge. To sit by Zant, with so many accusations to sling at him but no motivation to do so, filled him with such a terrible thunder. He couldn’t stand another minute in there with him. 

Of course, he was enraged at Zant. Somehow, that maniac had managed to deceive a Demon, and, with how Ghirahim so piteously carried him to safety, had gotten away with it, too. It was infuriating, as much as it tore his heart to pieces. They had loved each other then, and though Ghirahim had let it shatter, the shards of this love still remained within him.

Zant meant no harm to him, this he knew. But what the Twili did not seem to get through his thick skull was that in threatening his Master, that threat extended to his most loyal blade. 

What other choice did Ghirahim have, though? He didn’t have the authority to be selfish, but deep inside himself, he cherished that wish, still, to have his true purpose fulfilled in the hands of his Master. Removed so far from Him now, for the first time, Ghirahim confronted his wish head-on. He could not bear dying a second time, without his true purpose fulfilled. So, even if this incarnation of Demise would not wield him, he could at least try to live on, and wait for the next. The only way to safeguard that childish desire now, was to remain hidden away, by Zant’s side.

Plop. Plop. Plop. Something was close to burning in the pot he was tending to. Bubbles rose through the thick liquid and popped into tufts of steam at its tawny surface. He took the pot, but a little rattle behind him urged him to turn before he could return to the cabin. Yet the ruined village around them was quiet, his idle scrying sensing nothing out of place. Dismissing the disturbance as another quirk of his agitation, he kicked a serving of sand over the smoldering ashes of the fire pit and headed back inside.

Zant sat propped up in his bed. His hand was raised to his face in a puckish, half-hearted attempt to conceal that he had been poking at his stitches mere seconds earlier. Ghirahim ignored those silly traits and handed him a bowl.

Raising shaky hands, his scarred ear straining to twitch, Zant took the bowl with surprise. Wide eyes peered inside. “I… Did not know you could cook.”

Ghirahim curled his lip, offended both by his carefree attempt at small-talk and at the underestimation of his abilities. “I am Demon Lord. I hold encyclopedic knowledge spanning thousands of years, and you think I wouldn’t know how to prepare a simple gruel?”

“... Forgive me for inquiring,” Zant mumbled, bringing the bowl to his parched lips. 

A moment of silence passed between them, with Ghirahim again hunched down against the far wall. Sitting there, staring at Zant somewhat struggling to feed himself through tremoring hands and an injured throat, became quickly unbearable. 

Ghirahim was tending to one of his daggers, a leather case full of them beside him, when Zant interrupted their silence again. “I must say, Ghirahim… I did not expect you to want to care for me, as grateful as I am for it. I remain a little jarred.”

Ghirahim furrowed his brows. Rose from his seat, made his way over to the cot and loom over the wicked thing nesting there. “Simple. It would be inconvenient if you died now. I have put everything on the line for you, Zant, and to let you perish from something as simple as a fever would mean I’ve wasted valuable time. I’m a deserter now, thanks to you,” Ghirahim hissed, looking down on him from beside his bed. “Do you understand? You owe me everything.”

Zant for a moment seemed intimidated. A long, spindly form, normally so towering, sat folded in on himself more fragile than a newborn bird. He blinked up at him with his big eyes, before resigning himself to nursing his bowl of food. “I know, Ghirahim. I know. And you shall get it. All in due time…”

That was how Ghirahim spent hours. Days. Cleaning bandages and watching a traitor eat porridge. Oh, Demise Mercy. He must have been defective. The both of them, fools locked in a little hut, each robbed of their sound minds. Back in the Palace, Ghirahim must have knocked the last sense out of Zant when pummeling him for his transgressions, or he would have realized the idiocy of his plans by now. In that same vein, he himself must have had his reasoning beaten out from him with the hammering of steel. Otherwise, he never would have tagged along. The Demon King was not an enemy one could meet in any way other than prostrated, begging for a quick end. Yet here he was, persuaded to betray him, head-on.

This exact line of thought repeated ad nauseum in his mind nigh every hour of every day. Either Ghirahim would hush it with some excuse, or let its flame run its course, quietly, yet viciously, behind dark eyes aimed straight at his conspirator. Today was one such day of well-contained rage, tempered as he tended to the last of Zant’s injuries. Despite the many ills he would wish upon the man in his darkest hours, Zant’s health was indeed improving, leaving only lethargy and persistent pains, both of which motivated his loud complaints. 

And how he cursed this recovery. Every bit of care sparked an affectionate streak in the Twili. Zant spent what little energy he could spare on conveying his gratitude, carefully at first, but growing ever more bold. Ghirahim flinched from his touch in these early hours, until it angered him, swatting his hands away at the slightest provocation. But at the first solid contact, the laying of those pallid fingers on his false skin, he realized he was powerless. 

He had missed it. Ghirahim craved to be touched by him. It was the closest thing to a disease he had ever felt.

There could have been many things that made him stay. It could have been Zant’s bizarre kindness, his devotion, and all their fond memories. But above all, Ghirahim was a Blade. He followed power. Even when laying there, too ill to move, there was a spark of determination in Zant’s eyes. A deep grudge that had rested in smoldering tar until finally ignited, burst into flame deep within the Twili, and would not cease burning until he got what he wanted. Zant had died not once, but twice, and came clawing out his grave with the same deathly resolve each time. Narrowly escaping death a third time, the fire still lit in his soul proved it. There would be nothing stopping that man from taking Hyrule, promised by his expression alone. How horrifyingly familiar it was.

So Ghirahim allowed it. All of it, his affection, his schemes, and his weakness, as Zant lay there shallowly breathing. Even in the chance his comparison was false. His captor, his usurper, had trapped Ghirahim so thoroughly by his side that there was no choice but to remain. And through his efforts, past something so cruel, Ghirahim loved him still. Zant would take everything the Demon King ever had, starting with His blade.

As Ghirahim lamented this, he loomed over him, tugging the stitches out of a freshly sealed scar. Out of all moments, Zant thusly decided to be possessed by another one of his honey-eyed fits. He reached his hand – a little steadier this time, but hesitant, still – to Ghirahim’s face, to trace a thumb along the blemished skin of his cheek.

Only to recoil. Zant tested again, running his thumb along the little dimples left by Darunia’s hammer. “Did I do this, Ghirahim? In convincing you to betray your Master, did I damage you?”

Before Ghirahim could get past his perturbation and respond, Zant looked at him intently. His hand flat on his jaw, Zant spoke gravely. “If I cannot do this without hurting you, I have already failed. You are a collateral I cannot accept. I wouldn’t forgive myself, and, by the Sols, would not expect you to either.” 

Pallid hands found his own. Zant stroked past his fingernails, talons that they were, beneath his gloves. He guided this hand, and pointed its nails at his heart. “Tell me, then, if I am to blame, and, should you wish it, to repay my crime against you… Kill me.”

Ghirahim paused. For a moment, he indulged the thought. He imagined rooting past his ribcage and ripping out whatever strange, beating organ lay beneath. Only to find the appeal fall flat. If he had any cheer in him, he would have had to stifle a laugh at this bizarre request. He must think I’m stupid, he thought. It’s a bluff. He knows I’m in too deep to conspire against him. 

Pathetic, wretched man. Is this the only way he knows how to express love? Empty threats on his own life, gored upon my blade?

“Don’t go on such ridiculous tangents,” Ghirahim said, wrenching his hand free. “It was Darunia.” He turned his back on him, then said no more. 

Silence fell, one of the many unbearable ones they kept on having inside this house. Without looking back once, Ghirahim made for the door.

Zant interrupted him, right as he placed his hand on the door handle. “... Ghirahim, please-”

“Please, what?” Ghirahim snapped, glaring at him over his shoulder. “After everything you’ve already taken from me, you have the nerve to ask any more from me? What could you possibly want?”

Zant startled. “This is what I mean! Do you intend to sit and simmer in silence for the entirety of our cooperation? You are bursting at the seams with unsaid frustrations, and yet, you remain with me. So do us both this favor and hurl whatever you have bottled up in there my way. Clearly, this tension benefits neither of us!”

Ghirahim froze. Did it truly take this many days for Zant to wonder? Was it so inconceivable to him, up until this point, that anger would remain? The urge to snap at him was irresistible. He pushed the small crack in the door he’d pulled open back shut with far more vigor than necessary, and whipped himself around.

“You wish to hear it? Fine. I’m astounded I even have to spell it out for you. Aren’t you so smart? So cunning? You’ve ruined my life!” Ghirahim shouted, stomping his way to the center to the room. “Every chance I’ve had in this war, to build my reputation, to bond myself to my Master, you’ve sabotaged. With your ridiculous plots, your manipulative little distractions. And then, oh so merrily, you lay there on your deathbed and say, you intended to have the one man that matters to me, killed!? What a terrible fate you’ve strung me up with!”

In all technicalities, it was impossible for Ghirahim to run his voice ragged. In his frustration, it still had. His words tumbled out of him moreso than he spoke them, tripping over hitches and bumps on their way out. “By all means, ‘sitting and simmering’ is the most charitable thing I could do to you. I ought to tear you limb from limb and feed you to the pigs!”

Ghirahim heaved breaths through clenched teeth, fast-paced in his rage, but gradually slowing. Before him, Zant looked petrified. How cathartic! To cause him even the slightest fraction of pain, after he himself was hurt so deeply! 

But as much as it soothed him, the sight also fizzled out his drive. Ghirahim knew he couldn’t tear into him forever. So, his hackles going slack, he resigned himself to solemn reasoning. He looked at him bitterly as he spoke. “But I won’t. Because what good would it do me? You’ve made sure every home I ever had in this wretched time is burned to the ground, and every ally, gone with it. You give me no choice but to go along with your schemes. I’m trapped in here with you, so I will act as damned frustrated with the part as I please.”

Throughout his outburst, Zant had cowered, his eyes wide and on the verge of tears. He’d looked hurt, like for once his plans weren’t packing out the way he expected. This changed when Ghirahim’s temper grew calmer – where Ghirahim’s resolve faded, Zant’s grew. His eyes narrowed, his lips drew to a tight line, and his back straightened. Zant looked thoughtfully down at his hands in his lap. “I see. So you think you are blameless in all this?”

“Don’t you dare –”

Zant’s face snapped up towards him, once again freezing him inside that all-consuming gaze. “No, no. Ghirahim, you act as though I’ve forced your hand at every turn through this. I must make one thing crystal clear to you, it seems.”

Zant took a deep breath, his eyes closed, and sighed it back out. His patience gathered, he spoke. “When Ganondorf first summoned me, Ghirahim, I was ready to die. I had been since Cia resurrected me, too. And though I indeed intended to stray from Ganondorf, it was only ever a wishful thought.” His tone grave at first, he soon grew wistful. “Had you not accompanied me, my Blade, and showed me the vastness of this world, I would not have wanted to remain in it. I would have lost myself to a drone-like state and fought to the death without aim, as I had before.”

“And,” Zant said, eyes aimed straight at his core. “Had you not taught me swordsmanship, had you not given me our scimitar, I would not have become as strong as I am now.”

Ghirahim could see it now. The full extent of the trap he’d fallen into. Strings intertwined. Each bound by their wrists, twisted and tangled. Forcing each other closer, and closer, until their laced fingers tied together and soaked red with the blood on their hands.

Zant saw the moment the dots connected behind his eyes. Despicably so, he almost looked smug. “So face it. We have sculpted each other like this, for better or for worse. You chose to return to me. On Death Mountain, in the Temple of Souls, and even after I revealed my deceit to you, you came to me of your own accord. Do not dare blame me for the impulses of your own heart.”

All throughout Zant’s words, Ghirahim felt a storm brewing inside his chest. Thunder threatened, rolled, deep within, until at long last, it snapped free at such simple words. 

“My heart?” Ghirahim scoffed, grit his teeth. The elation of his next words nearly sent him into delirium. He glared at him madly, wearing an incredulous smile. “I do not have one!”

Somehow, a statement of truth evoked instant distress in Zant. His eyes went wide along with the cracking of his temper. Biting his lip, huffing almost childishly through his nostrils, Zant reverted to his old ways with tears beading in his eyes. 

“Why must you always quarrel with me?” Zant whimpered, composure finally gone. “I saw you exploited, in danger, and I took you with me. I cannot deny you your nature as a blade, this I know. B-but even then, all I wanted was to place you in safer hands!”

Ghirahim’s expression, on the other hand, did not change. He folded his arms, his nails digging into his skin even through the cover of his gloves. Fabric nearly creaked beneath his grip, straining at the seams. The stupidity of it all was almost enough to pacify him. Keep him safe? A living weapon, in time of war? Zant was a little boy living in his own reverie. 

Ghirahim was at once disappointed with this spineless response. He sighed. Narrowed his eyes, then growled his next words. “Then you failed.”

Zant bared his teeth, similarly balling his fists. “Perhaps I may have. But in banishing us, Ganondorf, too, forced us into this fate. If it had otherwise meant dooming you to scrap, then my conscience is spotless.”

He felt the corner of his lip twitch with involuntary rage at this. Such a presumptuous face was just begging for a fist to be planted square in the middle of it. Ghirahim wanted to step forward, to grab him by the collar of his nightgown and rattle the mess of his brain some more, but a different part of him begged for him to be reasonable. 

Ghirahim would never get the chance to wrestle past whatever held him back. Before he could set another step, a tremor shook him to a standstill. At once, the gentle, golden rays seeping in through the ceiling cracks turned red. Not the warm vermillion of sundown, but rather, a sickly crimson, stifling every other bit of light like a bloody fog. At once, the woods around them turned dead quiet. Not a leaf dared to rustle. Then, another tremor, rattling the rusty nails in the floorboards and shaking dust loose from the ceiling. At once, Ghirahim felt it. Deep in his soul, a roar and a magnetic pull, urging him to flee the house. Yet, he remained frozen in place.

Zant looked up, peering intently out what little window he could see. He whispered.

“Ganon.”

Ghirahim did not notice when he stepped into Zant’s range, but he must have, because a hand suddenly clasped around his wrist. Zant stared at him intently.

“It’s time. Take us there,” he insisted, clamping on with a tightness a man this frail shouldn’t be able to manage. “Somewhere safe. A vantage point. I must see him perish with my own eyes – I’ll trust no one’s account on it.”

Ghirahim furrowed his brows, revolted, but soon stopped struggling against him. Either way, there was a deep instinctual need that drew him to the battle Ganon now was entangled in. If he dragged Zant along, the man could do very little harm to begin with. But what allured him most, was the thought of leaving him there to be discovered. Zant’s naive drivel had, once again, drawn his ire. The effort Ghirahim had spent in keeping him alive may very well have been a fallacy, should he change his mind now… But to bring him directly before his old Master may very well reinstate his position by Ganondorf’s side. 

And, if he was lucky, in his hands. This was his very last chance. 

—

As they arrived, within a second, Ghirahim saw his last chance slip from him, vanishing into thin air. He had taken Zant with almost suspicious eagerness, situating the both of them atop the cliffs that surrounded Hyrule Field. Stroking a hand through his hair, he propped the man in the shadow of a great tree. Leaning on makeshift crutches as he was, lacking his helmet, he would need to be a semblance of safe. Or at least feel the part. 

But when Ghirahim turned to face the battlefield, to where his Master was bringing chaos to the lands of Hyrule, he lost any hope he had. The source of the ground-shaking pounding of hooves, of the malice-filled roars, was unmistakable. There rampaged Ganon, Demon King, reducing the once-green fields to a barren wasteland under the deep-red skies. He was colossal, resembling the man he knew only by his fiery red mane. Now, he tore through barricades in the form of a boar, with tusks like battering rams and clawed fists decimating men by the dozens just by galloping past. In his wake, keeps had crumbled, monsters had feasted, and a gigantic sword had lodged itself in the most suitable pedestal of all: Hyrule Castle.

Zant limped to the edge of the shadow to stand behind Ghirahim, close enough for him to hear the manic giggle under his breath over the carnage.

“Magnificent, isn’t it? All that power. That is what the Triforce contains.”

It was. He was dazzling, awe-inspiring, enough to bring the demon to his knees, eyes and mouth agape. The world trembled before the Great King of Evil, who had brought ruin to the once-so-grand Hyrule Castle, and swept any resistance aside with a single swing of his hand. But it was also terribly, terribly, wrong.

“... He’s lost his mind. I have seen this before. Ganondorf, as we have known him, is gone. There will be no more negotiations, no more allegiances, and no Kingdom to rule. The Princess must have pushed him over the edge –”

“And he’s taking everything down with him,” Ghirahim finished, the words leaving him in a quiver, like it was the last breath he would ever take. He fell to his knees.

Zant had the gall to snicker. “Oh, but he will not win. He cannot, not if – Ah, there you have it.”

As if struck by some unseen force, Bestial Ganon recoiled. Attacks once focused on the Demon himself now veered to the Colossus Blade lodged in Hyrule Castle, instead. Ghirahim remembered this sword – forged for the hands of Giants, only to be seized by the clutches of Hell, and made into a conduit for the Demon King. If it functioned anything like the one kept in Demise’s palace, it would have served as an amulet, to cast a protective spell over its Master. 

And now, it was being bombarded by a deluge of shimmering arrows, and wicked little birds carrying explosives in their talons. It all pitter-pattered on the midnight steel like prismatic rain, but the shriek of cracking metal was no less foreboding. Though Ganon chased them down, with the arrival of the Rito, all troops were heading for the Castle to reclaim it. Ganon tore through brick and mortar with enough force to crack one of his horns clean off, but it was too late. Launching the demon boar back, the Colossus Sword shattered. Though no less dangerous, Ganon was now vulnerable. 

Ghirahim whipped around to glare at the man behind him. Those eyes looked on the ensuing chaos like nothing was out of place. “You know more than you let on. Spit it out.”

Zant squinted his eyes nearly shut with a wide grin. “Ah, well… It was a gamble on my part, but I confess. Do you remember Chancellor Meherat?”

Ghirahim grimaced at him fiercely enough that no words were necessary to get him to continue.

“I intercepted her in the desert, buried her in a shallow grave. But not before planting a letter on her body, detailing some… Educated guesses, on how he might attempt to conquer the Castle. I’d hoped her traitor-sisters might find the body and give her a proper burial, and I was correct. I’m almost a little taken aback by how well something so brash seems to have worked.”

Ghirahim at once flew back to his feet and lunged at the Twili. He grabbed him fiercely by the tabbard, tugging him down to eye-level with his fangs bared… But past his enraged panting, found he couldn’t force a single word to form. With every anguished bellow behind him, his grip on Zant slackened. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around and look. So he buried his face in the fabric of Zant’s cloak, and let it soak up every tear he spilled. When Zant brought his hand to his back and stroked it softly, he wanted to recoil. He wanted to shake off his wretched affection, sprint down to the battlefield and come to his Master’s aid, but all was hopeless. In this state, Ganon would not even recognize him. Not as his ally, not as his blade. He would shatter him to splinters on the spot.

Ganondorf had broken his promise. Ghirahim would never return to his hand.

So, defeated and ensnared in the Twilight King’s web, Ghirahim gave up. He hid himself from the sight of his dying Master, as the monomaniac he clung to looked on in fiendish delight, nearly drooling at the power he coveted.

Until, as the clamor continued, Zant prodded at him to catch his attention. “Ghirahim,” he hissed. “We have been spotted.”

Mind gone muggy from his despair, Ghirahim sluggishly turned to where Zant urged him. Surely, at a distance, there stood a trio of blue-clad Hyrulean soldiers – two Hylians and a Rito. They were almost mere specks in the yards between them, but certainly eye-locked, nonetheless. 

Zant leaned in, whispering as though they might hear from such a distance. “It is in our best interest that Hyrule believes we are dead. We cannot afford witnesses.”

Ghirahim stared a little longer, but soon the Rito braced himself, flapping his wings to take off in flight. 

“So, what are you waiting for?” Zant chimed, extending his bony hand in the direction of the now-fleeing group. “Go, Yima Gradiegra. Kill.”

Ghirahim hadn’t realized how he’d hungered for such words until the command alone blazed fire within him. Before he’d even registered it in his mind, his feet took off in a sprint. All his fatigue, his listlessness, had disappeared, peopling his mind instead with this newly-acquired purpose. With bloodlust.

Kill. 

The first head rolled. The next drew a sword on him, only to find his blade flying into the dirt and himself skewered in a flash. Downy feathers fluttering down from above reminded Ghirahim of the Rito, who had taken off beyond his reach. With a snap of his fingers, Ghirahim sent a cloud of daggers whistling through the skies and plunging themselves into the plumed flesh of his target. With a squawking scream and a few futile wingbeats, the Rito sank in the air, and plummeted down to the ground. 

Only when he pounced on the already corpse-bound soldier to carve his throat for good measure, did a call of his name snap him out of this droning state. Without even looking back at the carnage he’d left, he winked himself back to Zant, and hid himself in his arms.

“Excellent work, my Blade… You and I, we shall have Hyrule at our feet.”

Those words, those hands stroking his back, encouragingly… Something burned within him and it sickened him. Enough to burrow further in those wretched arms. It was not just the sights of war Ghirahim hid from. Not just the unbearable reality of watching his Master die before him a second – no, third time. Most of all, he hid from the off chance he would meet Ganon’s eye from afar and have him see the spark of delight that lingered there. The shame it would bring to admit he had followed another man’s commands – a mortal, – and found joy in it… It would be far easier, were He to die without knowing of it.

So Ghirahim let Him. In the shadows of the Twili’s cloak, he could see nothing, but the deafening sounds of the clash behind him spoke volumes. An army of demons, falling to the hands of flesh-born men. The mightiest of them all, slain by the powers of light. As he had time, and time, and time again. For once, Ghirahim had the privilege to avert his gaze from his Master’s fall. Though he took it, he regretted it in an instant. 

But this regret did not last long. His eyes snapped wide open when he heard a low rumble, followed by a horridly familiar giggle. A shockwave soon launched the both of them back. Ghirahim, still hidden in Zant’s arms, landed on top of the injured man completely unceremoniously. When he raised himself to see what pushed them back, he came upon clear amber skies of dusk, and Hyrule Field green and spry as if nothing had ever touched it. A crumbled land, bathed in golden light, stretched out before him.

“Ghirahim, my ribs,” groaned the man below him. Though addressed, Ghirahim lingered just a few seconds longer than necessary, before turning to sit beside him. Listlessly, he pulled his knees to his chest.

“Now, I truly cannot go back.”

“No,” said Zant. “But we can start anew, once more.”

Ghirahim deigned to respond. He supposed they would have to. 

So, they returned to that little forest town, as bit by bit, the World returned to normal for the victors. The two of them noticed nothing of these efforts, other than their bond slowly returning, as much as Ghirahim wished to struggle against it. With his last tethers to his True Master now gone, there was little, so, so very little, tying him to the wishes of his past life. Day, after day, Ghirahim’s walls chipped away, allowing that old fondness to peer cheekily at him through the cracks in the mortar. Captive and Keeper, Victim and Tormentor, Blade and Master. Conniver, and Target. Such words he would once have used for their dynamic, but he had no word for what it was melting into. The life they led, sheltered in these woods, defied everything he knew. 

It was bare, it was calm, it was quiet, this one-man sick bay. These days, the most excitement Ghirahim got was the occasional target practice on a woodland bird, that he could then feed to his patient. If they’d wanted, they could have fled, then, a pair of deserters never to be heard from again. But, deceptively, in these moments of peace, Zant was letting his plot simmer. A man like him would never have been content with a simple life. 

Neither was Ghirahim. Not for one minute did he consider this drag of an affair his possible future life. If he could not have Demise, then he would at the very least have vengeance. Now that Ganondorf could not give that to him, he would take it himself. Hyrule would burn for what it did.

Ghirahim dapped a wet rag on the gash by Zant’s forehead. Arterial scabs were stubborn to heal, and on Twili, this seemed to be no different. By all means, there was no reason for him to keep doing this. Zant was able to sit up by himself just fine and had long abandoned his fever. Yet, with so little to do but wait, not even an army below him to amuse himself with, he’d rather care for this fool and feel useful than sit around. When he finished reapplying the bandages, Zant thanked him with a coo and a stroke of his thumb across his cheek. Then, he requested from him his field guide, that strange hobby of his. Though he’d traded calligraphy ink for graphite, Zant was no less eager in his scholarly pursuits and would sit, hunched, working on sketches and descriptions of creatures whose appearances he’d long committed to memory. Ghirahim was thankful for these moments. There were only a few forces in this world that could rip Zant from his concentration now, and he wasn’t up to such nonsense that day. 

So, he did what he would every time the house got quiet. He went for a walk. At first, he would just explore the ruined town at his leisure, perhaps turn over a stone they had missed when they first came here and find anything of intrigue whatsoever. On the third evening, though, far into the woods, he began to hear voices. Whether it was the fairies, or huntsmen, or soldiers looking for the last monstrous hideouts, he was not keen on finding out. What if, upon the sight of him, they would scatter, and spread word of his survival to Hyrule? No, he would much rather ambush them than seek them out. Since then, he’d taken to calling his habit of wandering a patrol.

On the eighth day of his roaming, an unfamiliar sound sent his hair standing on end, and his fingers braced to summon his weapon. It was a rattle; not like the clacking of branches, as he was used to, but like the shaking of an instrument. Hollow… As his eyes scanned his surroundings, he remembered something Zant said, so long ago now. He, too, complained of hearing such a sound at the edge of the woods when Ghirahim himself could perceive no such thing. Did he, somehow, transfer this madness to him?

But madness it was not. For soon, the rattling returned, this time accompanied by a troubled little whine. Then, out from the bushes, a strange creature barely the height of his knees came toddling towards him. It seemed to be entirely made out of wood, with stumpy limbs, antlers like branches, and a painted leaf stuck to it, serving as its face. Once it had confirmed Ghirahim could see it (doubtlessly through his bewildered, and somewhat disgusted look), it spoke.

“ᚺᛁᛏ:ᚾᛖ:ᛊᛁ:ᛊᛈᚱᛖᚲᚨᚾᚨ:ᚹᛁᚦᚱᚨ:ᛃᚢᛉ:ᛁᛏ:ᚷᚱᚨᚢᛏᚨᛉ:ᛒᚱᛖᛊᛏᚨᚾᚨ:ᚾᛖ:ᛚᚨᛁᛒᛁᛃᚨᚾᚨ! ᚠᚢᛚᚷᚨᚾᚨ:ᛗᛖᚲ!”

Of course, Ghirahim understood not a word of what it had just said, but had an idea of what it wanted. It waddled away from him with great urgency, only to turn and jump up and down a few paces later. Ghirahim looked behind him, thinking what would become of Zant, were he too stray too far… Well, if he was spirited away, that wouldn’t matter to him anymore, would it? With his true purpose gone, his sense of caution had also gone almost entirely slack. He decided he didn’t much care for the consequences of following woodland creatures into the thicket. So he just did that, and set off after the panickedly bouncing creature. Every once a while, it hopped high enough to see past the tall grass. Which was a thoughtful, but unnecessary gesture. He had long since set his dowsing to the odd little thing, and could follow it to the ends of the continent if he had to. 

It had already been later in the day when Ghirahim departed their shelter, but the light in the forest grew ever more ochre as he chased after his odd chaperone. They passed through wisps of fog, which were familiar in their chill… For a moment, Ghirahim thought the moment of his disappearance must have arrived, and the soaring sound of wind seemed to agree. Until, with just a few steps, the clouds pulled away at once, and his sight could not have been more clear. The wooden creature guiding him then came to a sudden halt, refusing to go any further. When Ghirahim stopped behind it, it quickly grew anxiously irritated. Squeaking some unintelligible request, it got up behind him and started pushing him in the calves, urging him to go on. Generously, he complied. Less generously, he took offense to this undignified interaction, and promptly kicked the creature off of him. It led out some little cry of pain, tumbled backwards into the brush, and, alive nonetheless, scurried out of sight.

The last stretch the pixie expected him to walk was short, as soon he waded past a juvenile treeline to find a clearing. In the middle of it, hovering above the gnarled stump of a felled tree, was Majora. And, the poor sod it inhabited, slumped over in the air like a marionette at rest. The second Ghirahim stepped closer, though, the puppet came to life. Glowing a deep purple, it shrieked a little, before rapidly jerking its arms to and fro. Having sufficiently awakened, its mask leered down at him.

“Ahh, how nice of you to join meee, Ghi-ra-hi mmm,” spoke the mask, hitching on each vowel like a rusty hinge. Majora’s host convulsed, creaked, its master forcing its head into jittering angles. 

Somewhat unnerved, but unwilling to show it, Ghirahim crossed his arms and managed a pleasant greeting. “Good evening, Great Gluttony. Your vessel is looking a little worse for wear.”

“Yesss-s-s-ss, it is becoming… Too small for me ee e. Crampedddd d. T t t. But it matters not. Not for me, and not for it. W itness me.”

The puppet stopped shivering. Its arms fell limply by its side. Hand by hand, it then began to grasp at its face, feeling around for the edge of the mask. Gloved hands, their talons poking through the fabric, found the opening of the puppet’s jaw and yanked. 

From its open mouth, a claw surfaced. More curled around the rim, one by one, until an entire draconic hand forced itself through the far-too-small opening, and slammed itself into the ground. From this anchoring point, Majora pulled itself out. Wild, iridiscent manes pooled from the defenseless Skull Kid in an avalanche, until from this mass of fur, an armored dragon burst outward. The mask, once stuck to the vessel, now rooted itself to the dragon’s face, leeching into its flesh by pulsing, pink veins.

It bristled and shook. The last of its body wormed itself unnaturally from the beak of its vessel, like a snake shedding its skin. With a single flick of its furred tail, it had completed this metamorphosis, and discarded the Skull Kid against a nearby tree with a thwack. 

Now before Ghirahim, the towering mountain of armor and mane that it was, stood Majora, the spitting image of its former self. Once, it was more massive than this, yet Ghirahim was dwarfed before it. The tips of its horns almost grazed the lower canopy of these infant woods as it sat. Where its colors were muted and meager millennia past, the bright colors of its sealing curse had turned it into a veritable prism. Through the trees, the light of the setting sun enshrined its wispy fur in an infernal halo, leaving Ghirahim imprisoned in its shadow. The Great Gluttony, Arch-Demon of the Timeless Lands, had returned to this realm.

Well, for as long as that mask could keep this form up, at least. It rumbled with satisfaction, shaking out its head to dislodge its fur from its triple set of horns. As it moved, the plates of its armor clanked together like cymbals. Ch-Ch-Chsss!

“Charmed. Anyhow,” said Ghirahim, thoroughly unamused and checking his manicure. “A little woodland sprite hassled me to come pay you a visit.”

Majora grimaced, for as far as a reptilian face could do so. It dropped itself to the ground, folding its claws comfortably. “Messing around with fairies? Have you learned nothing from our last encounter?”

Stepping back slightly from the gnarled purple face leering closely at him, Ghirahim kept his countenance cold. “I’ve learned to spot a trail when I see it. Now, what do you want from me? I’m a very busy man.”

Majora wagged its head side to side almost cheerfully. “Oh, I wanted nothing more than to say my thanks for the little nudge you’ve given me. And, of course, to have you witness my return to glory,” it said and raised its behind. Curving into an arc, Majora stretched out its long-dormant body. “It’s been soooo long since I could properly stretch my legs!”

“I don’t recall doing a single thing for you. But, if it gets you out of my hair, then I most gratefully accept.”

Sitting back down with a gasp, Majora had its eyes wide and grin wry. “You truly must give yourself more credit, your lordship! Had it not been for your oh-so punctual summoning, I wouldn’t have had enough power to feed!”

Majora sat up on its haunches, coloring its words with gestures of its claws. “With the lives you sacrificed in the Desert, I could finally clamp my jaws into a long-desired target. All of Ganondorf’s misery, mine, all mine!”

Standing in the dragon’s shadow, Ghirahim widened his eyes and covered his mouth in shock. But before he could sink into guilt over complicity in his Master’s death, Majora took his expression alone as a cue to keep babbling. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. How else do you think Hyrule returned to peace so quickly? This place would have been a wasteland, had even a drop of his rage been left to simmer. By all means, I’m such a nice little demon! The Hylians should love me.”

Amidst that self-satisfied prattling, Ghirahim could have been gnawing his nails clean off. Had he not accepted Majora’s offer, then it wouldn’t have been able to, ‘eat Ganondorf’s misery,’ as it said. But then, did this contribute to Ganon’s defeat? Had he, by purging Gerudo Valley, ensured that untimely demise? Or was Majora merely a scavenger, picking the scraps off the Demon King’s carcass? 

Could he be certain Zant hadn’t known all this, the second they left those woods, mere months ago?

Nail polish sticking to his teeth, he was quickly snapped out of his thoughts by large, shimmering talons pawing at him. “Ghirahim!! Lookie-look! My little vessel seems to have survived. How quaint!”

Just by the tree where Majora left the little creature, small squeaks and groans emitted from a beaten form. It sat up shakily, patting at itself. Said vessel’s true face was now revealed. It was a featureless, shadowy thing, with two glowing beady eyes and a sparrow’s beak. Soon, that beak burst open, freeing an anguished wail. Unintelligible babbles poured from it, prompting the two distraught fairies beside it to start dragging it to the shrubbery, doubtlessly perturbed by the pair of demons glaring down at them. But being parted from what was once its mask only made the childish thing shriek harder. Nevertheless, the fairies prevailed in their escort, as more and more of them poured from the woods to help pull it away. 

“Poor thing,” tutted Majora, watching along. “It must have gotten attached to me. And who can blame it? Power is alluring, even as it devours you.”

Ghirahim turned, feeling thoroughly addressed, to indeed find Majora looking at him closely. When their eyes met, it flashed its teeth with a grin and got back to its feet, prowling circles around him. Ghirahim felt his hand itching for his blade. Why did he come here unarmed?

“Either way, once more,” Majora purred, teeth still bared past its lips. The marks on its mask coiling, coiling, coiling, in the illusion of its shimmering scales. “I thank you two for your generous assistance. Consider your debt from the Lost Woods… Thoroughly repaid.”

Yet the intimidation display shook Ghirahim none. It could prowl around him all it wanted, he would not be prey. 

“Us two?” Hook, line, and sinker. “So, you were aware of Zant’s intentions, all along? Have you both wound me up in your cahoots behind my back?”

Majora stopped in its tracks, but Ghirahim would be hard-pressed to find even a split second of insecurity in that wicked face. “Cahoots? Oh, I didn’t have to get involved with him whatsoever to know his intentions,” it said. “They were clear as day! But, even though I poked around him a bit… He most likely does not even know I exist.”

So, his two tormentors just so happened to get viciously lucky. Ghirahim didn’t believe a lick of it. Though, the idea of the Arch-Demon breaking past Zant’s mental wards unnoticed… It was as unlikely as it was intriguing.

Guilt turned to contempt in a flash. He now saw Majora as responsible for the death of his beloved Master, rather than a tool that ran haywire under his watch. His apprehension, as such, disappeared just as quickly. Anger scrubbed every courtier’s discretion from him, and returned to him his true foul temper of a Demon. Ghirahim crossed his arms and faced Majora. 

“If you supposedly know everything, surely you can tell me if Zant is hiding anything else from me.”

He very quickly saw that boldness cost him. Majora approached him, placing each claw carefully before the last in an elegant prowl, and burst into laughter once it was right before him. Just then, it braced itself, bristled its fur to become a mountain of shimmering fleece, and hurled itself at him.

Ghirahim yelled out as he was pounced. Had he thought quick enough, he could have summoned his sabre and buried its tip in the pink flesh of its throat, bared as it was when it guffawed at him. But he hadn’t, so pinned between its claws, he stumbled to the floor, and let it loom over him.

“You are getting greedy, imp,” hissed Majora, inches away from his face. The colors in its eyes pulsed with warning. “By all means, I have been generous with my information… Yet you demand more? Knew I not steel to taste terribly…”

“You cannot blame me for trying –”

“I can,” it growled.

Yet in its rage, Ghirahim found his escape. His one hand concealed under the bulk of the dragon’s scaled claw, he snapped his fingers, and promptly disappeared from under its grip. Instantly annoyed, Majora hobbled in a circle, only to find Ghirahim sitting on a branch above just out of its reach.

“Right, then, I suppose I will have to find out some other way,” said Ghirahim, idly swaying his leg over the edge of the branch. “If neither of us have anything else to tell each other, I assume our little parley ends here.”

Majora flexed its talons, for a moment looking as if it would jump up and scuff him. But it narrowed its eyes in a relinquished temper. 

It sat back down. “If that’s how you want to part, fine by me. You’re dismissed, ‘Demon Lord’.”

“Wonderful. I hope to be seeing very little of you, Great Gluttony Majora. Enjoy the new skin. I found mine suited me quite well.”

With another snap of his fingers, he was out of sight of the clearing. He felt like a buzzing in his head finally faded, while he hadn’t even noticed it come on as he spoke with Majora. With a few more paces, it had gone completely. Just as he, Majora had departed. As it did, the forest took just a moment of quiet; held its breath. Then, it sighed collectively, a knee-height plume of fog pouring in through every crack. Above him, at his feet, and every which way, chittering and chirping filled his empty head in gratitude. He supposed, for now, the annoyance of fairies was preferable to the hatred and regret he’d left simmering on the backburner after the encounter of mere moments ago. 

It was time to head back.

Ghirahim shambled back through the treeline. Gossamer fog pulled away from him like a sigh the further he departed from that clearing, the fairies’ cries faded with every step. As luck would have it, he’d let himself be lured into the woods by the Fair Folk, and they hadn’t even had the decency to spirit him away.

Back he went to his house of conspiracy. With that excuse for escape now locked behind him, Ghirahim felt an odd sense of peace. A resigned one, but peace nonetheless. 

Ghirahim neared the edge of the forest, but did not yet surface from it. Through the leaves, the last light of dusk colored his surroundings golden, tree trunks carving big black pillars of shadows all throughout this dying light. These shadows made for a fine hiding spot, but not at all from the man looking for him. It then struck him just how long he must have spent with Majora, even if at the time, it seemed like minutes.

Which meant all the more that he should quit dawdling. Ghirahim stepped through the mouth of the little elephant path he’d followed before and entered the town. 

His King was waiting for him there. Zant sat on a stack of firewood outside the house, staring at the first stars speckling the skies. On his hands, he was idly letting some kind of beetle tromp along his wheeling fingers. He perked up from his thoughts when Ghirahim’s arrival rustled the thicket. The two met eyes.

“Gone for a bit of an evening walk?”

“Indeed. You don’t mind, do you?” Ghirahim scoffed. “Surely, you can manage an hour or two without me?”

Zant smiled, turquoise flashing through the marks of his forehead. “Yes, I can, but I would prefer not to,” he responded, beckoning him over to sit with him. Ghirahim only half-refused, opting to lean against the shack wall behind him, instead. 

With a brief pause, Zant looked over his shoulder to address him. “Right, ah… Listen, Ghirahim. I wish to divulge the next step of my plans with you.”

Ghirahim hummed, cocking his head. “Just about time, I’d say.”

While Zant should have expected snark, he clearly didn’t. A little caught off guard and flustered, he continued. “... Yes, my apologies. I –”

“Oh, please,” interrupted Ghirahim. “I don’t want any excuses. Just tell me.”

Zant nodded sheepishly, then scraped together what little dignity he could. “I will allow myself a few more days of rest, six at the latest. We will reclaim the Triforce of Power first, but we cannot take the Valley with just the two of us. We will need troops.”

So, that’s what he wanted all along. Ghirahim couldn’t even find it in him to be surprised. Perhaps somewhere, he’d hoped that Zant was content with Ganon’s death alone. But, always there was more. His Master and Zant, both, thirsted for Hyrule’s throne. It was to be expected that he would follow through, and, with enemies like theirs… They’d need some seriously hefty tools for the job. Taking the Triforce was the next logical step. 

‘We can start anew,’ indeed… They were back at square one. 

The lack of response made his companion nervous. Somewhat anxiously tapping his foot in the dirt by his seat, Zant continued. “The Bulblin Clans have been loyal to me before, and they are easier to persuade than most. When I have recovered, we will recruit them first thing.”

Eyes cast to the ground, Ghirahim hummed, crossed his arms. So, their little getaway was to end so soon.

Zant shifted in his seat. He looked up at him. “But, in the meantime, Ghirahim, I want to ask you a favor.”

“And what would that be?” Ghirahim asked, tipping his head. Might as well humor him.

“I have been resigned to bedrest for too long, and I fear I have grown sluggish. For both our sakes, Ghirahim, teach me how to wield you again.”

Ah, this was it. Just as he’d predicted, Zant was to break through his walls, and free what part of himself he had so thoroughly kept locked away. Smothered no more, the little dagger that loved him so pressed itself to the gate of its prison, and awaited its opening with bated breath. They would give it what it wanted. The Demon Scimitar was made to be wielded, just as he was. At least a part of him should feel that satisfaction.

So, saying nothing, Ghirahim pulled the Twili to his feet. In doing so, the wobbly creature stumbled into him, squeaking in surprise. That saved him the trouble of pulling him close, he supposed. Hands at his sides, Ghirahim craned his head up to look at him, daring him to act. Zant had wronged him, worse than he thought he ever could. Yet, Ghirahim saved his life, twice over. The least he could do now was show him that he at least had the guts to assert himself. Ghirahim would not lead this dance.

After some deliberation, the wide-eyed gawking of his amber eyes and wiggling fingers on reserved hands, Zant made his move at last. One lanky arm curled around his waist, as it would always do, while the other hovered above his chest. For once, it was Zant avoiding his gaze, not the other way around. All this effort, all this plotting, all these meticulous efforts to secure his usurpation… And now he could not even touch the one he called his lover. He was a fool. A coward. And Ghirahim would not stand for it. So he tested what Majora claimed it had done.

He pierced through that frail, mortal mind at once. Of course, against his Gradiegra, he’d built no wards. Ghirahim seized him firmly by what tethers he could grab, and commanded him.

Look at me.

With a yelp, Zant obeyed at once. And when those glowing eyes found the deep, void pupils of his own, Zant faltered. His hand fell on his chest and the Scimitar was beckoned. Their souls latched together, just like that. Crack, crack, Twilit magic slowly peeling away the skin to his core to lay bare that precious gem. Where he was once apprehensive, Zant quickly became eager. For a powerful blade was just that, and he would chase after such an allure without cease. Even if it meant toying with the heart of the one who mattered most to him. Especially then. But it was not just Ghirahim’s deepest self brought to light – he still had Zant ensnared, like fingers wrapping around his throat. As his questing magic lapped at the edges between them, Ghirahim saw every inch of him. Through his mind, through his hands, and through his eyes, so close to him now.

So was the truth to be revealed. Zant had not changed. After parting his veil of lies, Ghirahim expected to find a completely different man hiding behind. But he did not. All that had changed was the light he saw him in. And how dazzling it was, pointing at his every nook and cranny, bright as day! He’d torn him open, baring every ugly rotten part of him, that stabbed and plotted and hated, so, so deeply, sticking out from his flesh like hooks to gutted fish. And yet, amidst all now in plain sight, Zant’s eyes looked at him that very same way. A laughably simple plea for affection glinted in the wetness of his eyes. Somehow, even when orchestrating a grander scheme than Ghirahim could even dream of doing, a deathly weapon within reach, Zant could think to wish for his companionship – No, to strive for it, to hold it tight and make it his own. As if it could be of any importance, as if Ghirahim cared, as if he expected him to simply forgive him overnight. All just because he loved him.

They were the same, in this way. They’d ripped each other apart and sat panting across each other, hands drenched in each others’ deepest parts. In this idiotic, violent act, the borders between them had blurred and slurried together.

Oh, how they were the same. And how gently Zant traced his fingers along the measly wall that kept them separate. Hoping, perhaps, that a tender touch now might ease the violence that would come later. It would not, but the sentimentality of it all would bring mirth to even this demon. Nevertheless, Ghirahim groped his wrist, dragging him along to place his hand square on his chest. Ghirahim then wished nothing more than to be breached. To return the favor, to mend what was broken. The gentle flutter of eyelashes and Zant’s shaky breath tickling his skin made the wait unbearable. All at once, the heat in his body gathered in his chest, and its surface cracked. His core was within view, within touch. Enter me. Let us blur together some more.

So, Zant’s fingers slipped past him. Dodging his sharpest facets, and plunging directly into the molten heat of his core, Zant made his way to that promised hilt. And as his hand drew closer to its goal, so too did their bodies draw together. They hid in each other, their faces buried into the napes of each others’ necks. Like this, Ghirahim could feel every wince, every drop of sweat from that awful Twili, who struggled through his endurance to keep his hand in the blazing heat of his chest. Ghirahim smiled a wicked smile, and at last, embraced the man who tried so hard for him.

“By the eighteen Hells, I hate you,” Ghirahim hissed. But how I missed this love. 

“Then, forged by the fires of those Hells, and your burning hatred, Yima Oibede, let me draw our blade.”

Ghirahim laughed in mockery. Yet, all the same, he jut his chest forward, and in doing so, pushed the pommel of the blade he’d hidden into Zant’s hand. Such tenderness had earned him this gift; embraced as he was, with each engrossed in nothing but the other. For a sword was equally made to be held, as it was made to kill. 

Spindly fingers finally dared to curl around the grip of him. But when Zant tugged, he found it stuck. Once again, the blade was incomplete – after such a betrayal, the image of their bond had irrevocably changed. So, the little dagger that embodied it had to change, too. This time, when the blade sapped Zant of his strength, he did not yelp, he did not even flinch. Readily, he poured his magic into it, and let its threads be woven into a truly wicked sword.

Ghirahim hated it. He wanted that composure shattered and he wanted it fast. So he sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of Zant’s neck and let him squirm. And, though indeed, his reaction was as delicious as the taste of his blood, it only lasted so long. Zant, driven by what could only be instinct, snarled with bared teeth and bit him back. Like two wild dogs entangled in strife, they took from each other, one pulling at shards of the soul, and the other savoring drops of blood. Ghirahim let ichor leave him past the holes left in him by needle teeth, and Zant lapped it up, even if by all means, it could poison him. 

Zant whined at him through black-stained lips. “Ghirahim-ili… How I’ve longed to rule with you by my side.” 

With that promise, Zant freed the blade with one last tug. It burst from him, spurting an arc of white-hot liquid metal in its trail as Zant held it by their side. The Demon Scimitar has returned to his hand, once wicked but now gnarled, black and red in hatred and the love of a bleeding heart. Even with this blade in his hand, as instrumental a key it was in his plans, Zant never took his eyes off the scabbard in his arms.

When they kissed, it was like lightning. Fierce, shocking, and above all, bold, serving to release their bottled-up affections and frustrations both. With the taste of iron on their lips, they sealed their blood pact in this way. A promise of carnal pleasure, turbulent love, and of course, with blade in hand… The violent glory of battle. 

When they parted, neither of them could say how long they’d stood there in lip-lock, though the smearing of blood and cosmetics gave them an idea. 

Now, Zant stepped back, his arm still loosely resting on Ghirahim’s waist. He finally took the time to survey the changes to their blade. A grin stretched across his face… He likely didn’t even notice it did.

“Beautiful, Ghirahim-ili,” he said, turning it in his hand to drink in every angle. “I would go to war with no other blade.”

Ghirahim slipped from his embrace and laughed. “Then prove it. Let’s fight.”

Ghirahim drew his own blade, one simple and heavy. He did not have the concentration to summon anything more thoughtful, for his core hummed and buzzed far too erratically to let him even think of a careful choice. The man whose hands just plunged into his soul and pulled out his own piece stood before him… With his stance too wide and his arms wobbling. Where Ghirahim wanted to again spiral into conflict and despair, he now puffed out a laugh. 

“Last time I struck you in the chin for such sloppy stancework, Zant, but I’m a little hesitant to do so, without your helmet to guard you.”

Zant grinned. “I don’t think you’re hesitant at all.”

“You’re right,” Ghirahim chimed. At once, he launched for him. Zant flinched, but did not falter, swinging upwards to catch the offending blade on his fingerguard. Of course, Ghirahim didn’t fight him with all his vigor… They were only practicing, after all, and Zant was recovering from the brink of death, still. But every few swings, he found he could hit harder than he anticipated. Only once did Zant’s hands shake enough for their clings to slip, and land him a painful jab to the wards in his armpit. He was still just as careful, as analytical, and as fierce as he was before his bed-ridding… Taking advantage of the new, thorny shapes jutting from the Demon Scimitar, he flicked Ghirahim’s swing off course. 

When Ghirahim was then struck, he stumbled, and realized how he’d been tricked. 

“ ‘Teach me how to wield you again’ ? What an awful excuse! You remember what I’ve taught you just fine,” Ghirahim grimaced, poorly masking a grin with fake rage as he brought the flat of his blade down on Zant’s shoulder. “Deceitful fiend! You baited me.”

“Indeed, I teased you,” Zant whistled through gritted teeth, prying the both of them apart through the locking of their swords. “But I could use the refresher.”

They trained for what felt like hours – not from dull exhaustion, but because the minutes melted away as they clashed their blades under the setting sun. Zant’s joy was infectious – or was it he who had started laughing? – and soon, they chased each other in a true mockery of swordsmanship. They then cared not what bruised or what tore. All that mattered was this dance.

Inbetween manic giggles, Zant reeled him in with glee. “Don’t you feel it, Ghirahim-hasir? The thrill of sparring again? Day, after day, how I’ve longed for this!”

Ghirahim could have berated him then, for having dared dream of such childish things while bringing him such suffering. But to reject this shared joy now, nothing could feel more unnatural. So, he went for the next best thing: a swordmaster’s scolding. He had been merciful with Zant’s sloppy mistakes up until then, but no longer. Whacking right into the Scimitar’s sharp edge, he trapped Zant’s blade in his and wrenched it from his hands with one sweep of his arms. With nothing left to protect him, Zant flinched, staying perfectly in place to then be kicked square in the chest and knocked to the ground.

Sword planted firmly in the soil right beside Zant’s face, Ghirahim stepped over him, one foot at each side of his chest, and leered down. “Then, you ought to long for tomorrow, too, Twilight King. You’re getting rusty.”

Blinking up at him and panting, Zant was frozen in place from his startle and exhaustion. A drop of ichor falling on his cheek thawed him out quickly enough. His fingers curling around his victor’s blade, he smiled.

–

And so, six days went by, with Zant retiring from his bedrest and taking up their blade once more. Before the sun rose, Ghirahim was shaken from a daze to find the bed next to him empty. Stood waiting at the window, eyes wide and staring miles ahead of himself, was Zant. The day to recruit their soldiers had arrived.

They joined hands. Zant knew just where the Bulblins would be that season, and could warp the both of them there, without Ghirahim’s assistance. Since the event of Ganon’s death, Zant had recovered almost to the point of being his old self, if one ignored the gray hairs, the scars, and the dent along his jaw. Magic flowed through his veins once again – if Ghirahim had to hazard a guess, he must have been conservative with it before, not wanting to draw the attention of their Master. He wondered, idly, if sharing a piece of the same Triforce came with a bond he could not have had. Ghirahim shut this line of thought, very quickly, before he could vie for the attention of a dead man all too severely.

They arrived at the outskirts of the Bulblin settlement shortly, just as the sun began to set behind the dry grass. The expanse colored ochre in the light of dusk, almost bloodstained, to cast the camp in a similar light. It was a tall-fenced enclosure, with only some shacks on the outside for the occasional pastoralists… Who were now glaring at them with great scrutiny. Upon wandering a smidge too close to the gate, a small troupe of guards marched up to halt them. Only to then, where they’d been blinded by the sun before, realize who stood before them, and sent one of their numbers to inform the Earl post-haste.

Led through the sea of tents and cabins, they arrived at a large, black, goat-hair tent at the nexus of the settlement. Inside, they found – eyes led to the center by racks upon racks of ornamental weaponry and tapestries – the Bulblin Earl, Lord Hallra, seated upon a wooden throne, and surrounded by smaller blins. 

Upon their entry, Lord Hallra laughed, his arms spread and clutching a massive axe in his right hand. “Shadow Lord Zant,” he shouted, beckoning them to approach. “What a surprise. Word had it you’re dead. Or has your Master resurrected you once more?”

Zant bowed his head, just to be polite. Ghirahim did no such thing. “No, Lord Hallra. I am alive and well. And, here today, of my own accord.”

The Earl leaned forward, his elbow resting on his knee. He wore a cheeky grin. “Then, I take it that you need something from me.”

“Indeed I do,” said Zant, prompted to continue by a gesture of Lord Hallra’s meaty hand. “Your hospitality is much appreciated, Your Excellency, and assures me that our favor with you has not yet faded. I will keep it short. As soon as our forces are ready, I will march for the Valley of Seers. To do this, I need soldiers. Your clans happen to be the finest that I know.”

Flattery. How bold. Ghirahim decided to sit this one out – he had very little to do with the brutes around them, as interested as they seemed to be in him. Doubtlessly, the smaller Bulblins peeking at him through the spear racks were making plans to make some room for him in the armory. 

Lord Hallra, meanwhile, rumbled thoughtfully and sank back into his chair. He ruminated on the offer for a frustratingly long time. Finally, he shook his head, rattling the decorations on his horned helmet. 

“My people have sworn ourselves to you before, Shadow Lord. You are strong, I know this, but we have already pledged our allegiance to Ganondorf before. By all means, he was your superior, and still he failed. I see no reason to join forces with you again.”

Such words were poison to Zant, made vile by the mentioning of his former Master. Zant recoiled accordingly but did not back down. “Ganondorf was a fool, and so was I, when I followed him the first time. He was under the impression that he could rule alone, abandoning those who served him to keep his throne of ashes to himself. He did so in the Age of Twilight, and he would have done so again. My usurpation of Hyrule now will be very different from back then. I will not settle for a mere piece of the Triforce. This time, we will claim all of its power in full, for our own.”

Though he seemed ready to have the two dismissed just seconds before, Lord Hallra sat back in his throne, scratching at his beard with intrigue. “Curious, then, how you didn’t attempt taking it before.”

“Back then I did not know I could. The Triforce will only settle in the palms of those with its birthright. Unless you know how to tear it from them.”

“Hah! I don’t suppose you can simply tell me?”

Just then, Zant exchanged a glance with Ghirahim. They at once spotted a weakness in Lord Hallra’s otherwise powerful stature. An obvious fracture to Ghirahim, but seemingly, just as clear to his companion. Zant was a demon in this way. A desire – and if the Earl had something to wish for, so did the Twilight King have a bargaining chip.

Naturally, Zant sunk his teeth into the opportunity with a smile and amicably raised hands. “You spoke of our allegiance before. Centuries past for you, and mere months ago for me. I remember it clearly. Particularly, how you abandoned your bond to me when Hyrule’s Hero bested you in battle.”

At the first sign of a frown from Lord Hallra, Zant stepped closer. Sand puffed up from the tapestry below his brass slipper. “The Bulblins are an honorable people. You follow the strongest. With Hyrule’s victory over Ganondorf, I do suppose that would make Queen Zelda your superior, but I know neither of you would fancy such an alliance. Instead, I propose the following.”

Reaching behind him, Zant took the hand of his Sword without having to look for him. He held him as if escorting him to a dance, feather-light. “Lord Hallra, I challenge you to a duel. If I am the victor, the Bulblins will serve me with their numbers in overtaking the Valley of Seers once more. Should you win, I will surrender, and with it, bestow the knowledge upon you that shall lead you to the Triforce. It will be yours to command, and yours alone.”

As Zant spoke, the pudge of Lord Hallra’s cheeks dented more and more under the force of his knuckles as he leaned his face upon them. With that last sentence, a spark of greed lit in his eyes and raised his brows – the bane of all Men. “... Hah! You pillock. Ganondorf would never have proposed such a promising offer.”

Zant’s smile did not even twitch. Slowly raising his hand, he led Ghirahim closer. “Did I not tell you my rule would be very different?”

With a chuckle, the Earl lowered his eyes, hiding his gaze behind wrinkled lids and plucky lashes, like straw stuck into his skin. He leaned into the whispers of a Blin beside him, nodding all the while, until so boldly, he grinned widely, and defiantly shook his head. His hand firmly clutched his armrest. He sat up and boomed his answer. “Aye, that you did. Very well. I accept your terms!”

As the sun set, torches lit around the camp. Zant fitted himself in his form-fitting armor and plates beneath his robes, though his helmet remained as absent as it had been. The Earl’s squires, in the meantime, clad him in chainmail, helmet, and banners, every splinter of metal glittering in the flickering light.

In this almost companionable silence, Zant drew the ire of every bulblin in the room, and lightly addressed his fellow duelist. “I must ask for reassurance, Lord Hallra. For the sake of your people, I hope you have procured some heirs.”

Lord Hallra’s eyes remained ever hostile, until the weight of Zant’s words hit him. Jagged teeth bared, he erupted into gut-shaking laughter, pounding the staff of his axe on the ground beside his throne. His underlings burst out in a heckling chortle beside him.

“Shadow Lord. I have lived to see fifty-three monsoons, and in this time, taken four wives. You tell me if you think I have heirs.” Creaking his chair, he leaned forward with a mocking grimace. “Do you?”

“Oh, I do not expect to need them,” Zant waved him off. With a single tug, he pulled his Demon into his arms, one hand bracing on his shoulder. “Ghirahim, our blade, if you will.”

So was the Demon Scimitar drawn. Their entourage was led behind the Earl’s throne room to an open-air battlefield. At the sight of their leader, clad in steel and axe in hand, clamor burst out throughout the camp. Every blin and mount, be they green, red, or magenta, just about plastered themselves to the fence to watch the battle unfold. All were eager to witness their leader off another poser. His people were confident in him and cheered thrice as loud, wishing him his fortunes in defeating their former lieutenant.

And, truth to be told, Lord Hallra was formidable. Decades of pure, honed strength jettisoned his every swing. The massive axe flew through the air, never losing its edge no matter how hard he cleaved it into the dirt. More and more of their arena was destroyed, both men leaving decimation in their wake. The Earl pushed Zant off of him with shoves of his axe handle, or kicks of his feet, or swings of his horns. Against anyone, man or beast, Lord Hallra would fall to no weapon.

Had his opponent not been Zant. Ghirahim could see it in his floaty gait – he was simply stretching time, perhaps to allow this washed-up senior his last moments of glory in front of his people. But when Zant drew his blade; truly drew it, with killing intent palpable enough for Ghirahim to feel it in his soul, it was over in seconds. Shadows trailed Zant as he burst forward, then assailed the Bulblin General from all angles in wicked tendrils. One slice of the Demon Scimitar, and the first of Lord Hallra’s armor was torn through like paper. A second swing, and yellowed fat tissue pooled free from a blood-drenched wound. Before the third could land, the hammer-end of the axe crunched into Zant’s upper arm, but it wasn’t enough to save Hallra’s life.

A flash of darkness. A splatter, a deafening silence from the crowd. Zant limped to the severed head now on the floor and raised it before his army. Their contract was sealed.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

cooking, by asmi, because someone wanted this. i can't cook, btw.

Were they joking? Probably. Cheers, @deathwords334, beware what you wish for. NOW BABYGIRLS, BITCHBOYS, AND BOYCOTTERS OF THE BINARY, I WILL... TEACH YOU HOW TO COOK. EXCEPT UH. I CAN'T COOK.

SO I WILL TEACH YOU WHAT I THINK UH COOKING IS. KINDA. FUCK YEAH THERE'S NOTHING I'M BETTER AT THAN EXPLAINING THINGS I AM SEVERELY UNDERQUALIFIED TO EXPLAIN.

STEP I: WASH THE ENDS OF YOUR FORELIMBS

WASH YOUR HANDS. UNLESS YOU'RE USING GLOVES. PLASTIC GLOVES, BECAUSE THE OTHERS WILL CATCH ON FIRE. To be fair plastic gloves might melt into your skin and cause worse damage than--YOU KNOW WHAT JUST WASH YOUR GODDAMN HANDS 99.9% OF GERMS GONE WITH EVERY HANDWASH EVER.

STEP II: FIND SOME REAL ESTATE TO EXIST IN

YOU SHOULD PROBABLY BE IN A KITCHEN. IT'S NOT A NECESSITY. YOU COULD ALSO HAVE A BONFIRE. OR A MICROWAVE IN A DORM. IS HEATING UP READY-MADE PASTA COOKING? FUCK YEAH IT IS DON'T GATEKEEP COOKING HERE.

YOU CAN ALSO STAND OVER A CREMATION PYRE AND COOK. IT IS NOT ADVISED. FOR LEGAL REASONS.

STEP III: CONTAIN YOURSELF MY DEAR THOTSON!

DR BEGONE THOTSON! MOVING ON. GRAB A CONTAINER. IF YOU DON'T HAVE ONE, YOUR PALMS UP IN SUPPLICATION TO OUR LORD GOD BILDADDY ARE A NATURAL CONTAINER. UNLESS YOU'RE HEATING THE CONTAINER. PLEASE DO NOT HEAT YOUR PALMS. YOU CAN GRAB A SWORD OR SOMETHING AND SKEWER THE FOOD IF YOU'RE DESPERATE.

STEP IV: FIND EDIBLE ORGANIC SUBSTRATES

MAKE SURE YOU HAVE FOOD. ON THE MAGGOTS SERVER, THERE WAS DEBATE WITHIN THE FIRST FEW DAYS OF WHETHER OR NOT CONSENTUAL AND LOCALLY SOURCED CANNIBALISM IS ETHICAL. THAT'S NOT THE POINT OF THIS POST. JUST GRAB SOME FUCKING FOOD UPROOT A BUSH IF YOU HAVE TO.

HELPFUL TIP: BEWARE WILD MUSHROOMS

OH ASMI, WE KNOW, SOME ARE FUCKING HALLUCINOGENICS, SOME ARE POISONOUS, SOME ARE LAXATIV--NO NO NO. NOT MY POINT. SOMETIMES, MUSHROOMS GROW IN CIRCLES. THIS IS A TRAP SET BY THE FAE. @queermarzipan, PLEASE CONFIRM.

DON'T GET TRAPPED BY THE FAE WHILE FORAGING FOR FOOD.

STEP V: IT'S GETTIN' HOT IN HERE MMMKAY

IF YOU'VE MADE IT THIS FAR WITHOUT GETTING BURNED ALIVE, ARRESTED OR KIDNAPPED BY THE FAERIES, CONGRATS! YOU ARE READY TO COOK. UH. YOU NEED HEAT, PROBABLY. IS MAKING A SALAD COOKING? IS MAKING A (NOT GRILLED) SANDWICH COOKING? I DON'T KNOW.

FOR SOME REASON I THINK HEAT IS KEY TO THE COOKING PROCESS.

SO WELL, GET IT HOT! FUNERAL PYRE OR MICROWAVE, GREAT! KITCHEN, PROBABLY A STOVE IN THERE. BONFIRE, GREAT! OKAY I FEEL LIKE STEP FIVE IS THE SAME AS STEP TWO. IT'S FINE.

WORST COMES TO WORST, PUT ON A TV SHOW LIKE GOOD OMENS (NUDGE NUDGE PROMO PROMO WATCH THE FUCKING SHOW IT'S BEAUTIFUL I LOVE I-OKAY SORRY) AND THE HOMOEROTIC TENSION WILL HEAT UP YOUR FOOD.

STEP VI: SPICE IT UP A BIT!

ADD SPICES THE WAY FANFIC WRITERS ADD FINGER BRUSHES, ONE BED, DANCING AND IT SWITCHES TO A SLOW SONG, WING SENSITIV--SORRY UM YES ADD SPICES THE WAY THEY ADD DETAILS TO THEIR SMUT. SPICE AND CHEMISTRY PEOPLE IT'S SPICE AND CHEMISTRY.

COOKING IS GAY.

STEP VII: MOUTHHOLE THAT BITCH

EAT. BONUS POINTS IF SOMEONE WATCHES YOU EAT. OR YOU WATCH SOMEONE EAT. HOMOEROTICALLY. LIKE CROWLEY WATCHES AZIRAPHA--OKAY FINE I'LL SHUSH BUT WATCH THE SHOW IF YOU HAVEN'T.

y'all I think I might not be coping well with life LOVE YOU MAGGOTS REBLOG IF YOU LEARNED SOMETHING AMAZING ABOUT COOKING TODAY! FROM THIS POST I MEAN. NOT IN... GENERAL. I THINK I'M FALLING ASLEEP. FUCK.

[neptune-lover]

Pregnant? Pt 2

hi guys welcome back this is part two to my pregnant series I'm working on a few ideas rn they are just in the starting phase but hopefully I can get those out and start a master list if the stories I plan to do anyways I hope you guys enjoy

Tag list @moxkindagirl

Tw: talks of pregnancy, mentions of death and miscarriage, mentions of vomit/throwing up and mentions of sex(this is through out the entire story btw and this will be multiple parts)

It was now 10 am both Y/n and Rhea never went back to sleep. Everyone was now awake in the house. Dominik decided to make strawberries and cream crepes as it's y/n's favorite breakfast to eat. She didn't feel sick the rest of the morning and because of it being smackdown tonight and it just so happened to be in the city where the couples home was they didn't have to travel far today which made Y/n very happy. All 5 of them were members of Judgement day but the group already knew Y/n wasn't scheduled to be on the show tonight so she called Hunter (triple H for those who don't know) and let him know she wouldn't be in the building as she didn't feel good. The others however all had either fights or promos to do so Rhea took the lead and called in reinforcement. Who was the reinforcement you may ask well it was three of Y/n's best friends in wwe who they knew weren't scheduled to be on tonight. They were Becky, Seth and Liv. All people who either helped train her or had been by her side dating back to her NTX days especially Becky and Liv they were her best friends and Seth decided to come with Becky to come help cheer Y/n up. "So how exactly did you feel last nigh" Liv asked curious as she had a cousin who was a nurse so she knew a bit about health and medical stuff. "Well it was kinda just out of the blue I woke up and felt super sick and like throwing up" Y/n said "Ok well have you felt like that at all the rest of the day" Becky now asked as the wheels in her brain started turning. Y/n replied "Nope I've actually felt fine the rest of the day just a but restless and sleep and haven't been tired since I woke up" "ok and remind me what time this was again" Seth now said now believing he was thinking the same as his wife. "Ok I get you guys are trying to help but what's with all the questions" Y/n asked slightly agitated now with all the questions. Becky replied "Well what's your description sounds like morning sickness which is common in pregnancy" "That's exactly what I was starting to think" Liv and Seth said at the same time. Seth chimed in again "I remember Becky struggled with that a decent amount when she was pregnant with Roux"." Wait so you guys think I'm pregnant " Y/n said in a shocked tone "Well I'm not saying you 100% are but it's possible especially if you guys have been having unprotected sex especially recently" Becky explained. Silence filled the room Liv was the one to break it "Do you have any tests here or do you need to buy one or two" "Two would be more ideal because it's better to do two than one I remember my first test was negative then I took another it was positive I went to the doctors later that day and turns out I was pregnant" Becky said. "I can go drive to a store real quick and pick up a two pack if you don't have any" Seth offered. "Well this was never expected this early so we don't have any so if you wouldn't mind running to grab some I would appreciate it" Y/n said in a hushed tone. "Ya I'll go run right now" and with that Seth left the three girls alone while he went to go buy some pregnant tests.

That's all for part 2 I hope you guys enjoyed and part 3 will be out soon beyyyy

[bloodlineee1]

"⋆𝓣𝓸 𝓜𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭⋆"

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.⋆ 𝓙𝓸𝓷 𝓜𝓸𝔁𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙.⋆𝓙𝓸𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓨/𝓷 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓫𝓸𝓽𝓱 𝓼𝓮𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮, 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓙𝓸𝓷 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝔂𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓬𝓻𝓪𝔃𝔂 𝓸𝓷 𝓪𝓲𝓻 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱? 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.⋆ [̲̅S][̲̅M][̲̅U][̲̅T] 𝟙𝟠+

Just a quick request—it's a bit rushed, but I hope you like it!!!

Hey everyone! 😊 I’d love to hear your thoughts on this new layout I’ve been trying out! Let me know if you like it! Thanks! 💖

Y/N is a bit confused because they rarely go out. He usually comes over to her place, she cooks for him, and they watch movies together until they fall asleep on the couch. This has been a tradition for them since their teenage years. They are truly best friends, so she has suppressed her feelings for him, not wanting to jeopardize their friendship.

She is very excited to see Jon. Y/N hasn't seen him in months. They text and FaceTime every day, but it's not the same.

she wasn't sure what to wear so she decided to call him.

"greetings baby girl" she hears him smile.

so she does too.

"you're adorable, Hi baby boy" she rolls her eyes.

"Stop rolling your eyes, What you up to?" he scolds her even though he can't see her.

"how'd you- Just trying to find an outfit, What should I wear?" she looks around her room for a camera.

"Because I know you but a sweater and jeans, that's what I'm wearing," he says so surely.

"where are we going?" she questions.

"you'll see when we get there"

"Okay whatever" she rolls her eyes.

"your eyes are gonna get stuck like that, damn it I have to go but I'll see you later baby girl" he laughs.

"okay baby boy be safe love ya" she makes a kissing noise.

"love ya" he does the same.

Y/N decided to take a nap before the show to avoid falling asleep during it, which was a habit of hers.

5:40 pm

Y/N was banned after getting into a fight with a fan who was heckling Jon.

oops.

She got ready and was then notified that the Uber he had ordered was outside.

Additionally, they share an Uber account as well as all of their streaming services.

6:30 at the arena.

Jon meets her out side the arena.

"hey baby girl" he picks y/n up and puts her over his shoulder.

"Jon put me down" she smacks his butt.

"don't smack my butt" he yells.

"then put me down" she yells.

“We’re gonna sit in my locker room until it’s time for my match” he puts her down.

“Okay” she fixes her shirt that lifted.

“Hungry?” he puts his arm around her

“Not really” she shrugs.

"alright then" he puts her over his shoulder again.

She secretly loves it.

"Jon put me down seriously," she says and he ignores her.

During Jon's match

Y/N hasn't Argued with a fan and his match is almost over, which is a new record because one thing she never played about was her best friend.

his match was the last of the night and he was bleeding again....

"Jon be careful" y/n yelled at him as he climbed the ropes.

he hits his finisher and the bell rings.

He celebrates, grabs the title, and takes the mic to make a promo.

“This is the result of hard work and believing in myself. And I can't express how much it means to have you, my beautiful y/n, sitting right there in the front row, cheering me on since we were just 15. Your support has always lifted me up. I love you deeply, and I cherish every moment we spend together. It’s been hard keeping my feelings hidden—lets go steady and do this foreeal what do you say baby girl?.” He smiles gently, standing closely to y/n, who is wiping away her tears.

The crowd cheers.

“Boy I just got my lashes done” she laughs while crying.

“I’m sorry baby girl, will you be my girlfriend?” he smiles wiping her eyes.

Say yes chants start

“Duhhhh” she laughs at their inside joke.

“Duhhhh” he mocks, before kissing her.

The crowd erupts.

“Alright everyone, I must go. We have places to be.” He picks y/n up and walks her to the back while his theme song plays; he’s so cheesy.

“Your so cheesy” she giggles.

They spent their night At their favorite burger spot.

And now well...

“Fuck. Wanted this for so long.” He mumbles.

His head was currently between y/n thighs devouring her showing no mercy, if the head was this amazing she was excited yet so scared of what his dick was gonna do to her.

“I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner fuckkk” she moaned loudly when he latched on to her swollen clit.

“Oh that’s the spot huh? Did that feel good doll?” He smiled.

Y/n nods her head trying to scoot away from him.

“Oh your a wuss if your running now your gonna be sprinting later babe” he chuckled.

“Shut the f-oh” he puts a finger in.

“You have such a potty mouth” he puts a second finger in.

“And you don’t?” She laughs.

“Touché” he smacks her thigh.

“I’m gonna cum” she moans.

"not yet" He gets up and pulls her closer to the edge of the bed.

he smacks his dick on her swollen clit making her whimper and then slowly lines himself up with her entrance.

“You sure?” He asks.

Looking at her face for any display of second guessing.

“Yes please” she begs y/n wanted him so bad rn more than ever.

He slowly enters her letting y/n adjust to his size.

When she did he treated her like the slut she always wanted to be.

“Fuck Jon your so big” y/n moans.

He had her in missionary giving him the perfect opportunity to hit all her spots, he knew her body so well and she was in pure ecstasy.

"l ain't never been small babygirl" he smirks while pounding into her.

His strokes were persistent and he gave her just enough dick to drive her crazy.

"No stop I can't take it” She pushed at his stomach.

"you want me to stop” he slows down his strokes.

"No don't stop,don't stop.”she begs.

“No?” he goes faster and grabs her hair.

“Oh my-” she gasps.

Jon loved this fucked out look on her face he never thought he could be more in love with y/n face she's covered in sweat and her hair is sticking to her face but she couldn't be more beautifull in his eyes.

"tell me you love me " he whispered in her ear his hand still in her curls.

" I love - fuck " she gasps.

" I love -fuck you more " he chuckles.

“Your so deep” she starts to tear up.

“But you’re taking me so well baby girl” he moans.

he gives her a little more and right when he felt her about to cum he pulled out and put her In doggy position, he's been edging y/n all night and it was driving her crazy it was nothing she wanted more in this moment than too cum for Jon.

" You wanna cum babydoll?" he smacks her ass and grips it.

" Yes so bad please let me cum." y/n whines.

" Can you wait for me, baby? Just a little more for me okay? You're taking me so well" he rubs her back for comfort while he goes deeper.

" Okay, okay" she moans.

“That's my good girl, such.a.good.fucking.girl.baby,” he says with each stroke going harder with every word.

Her eyes rolled back, y/n is so overstimulated she just wants to Cum.

“ I told you they were gonna get stuck like that.” he laughs.

She wants to say something back but all she can think of is cuminng.

“ Plea-, please let me cum.” she begs.

“go ahead babygirl you deserve it” he finally lets her.

She squirted all over his dick while her body shook in pleasure, she's never felt anything like that before she was in total shock she didn't even realize Jon nutted in her.

“Fuck jon” y/n says while they lay together out of breath.

"A squirter huh?” he kisses her forehead before getting up and getting into the bathroom to make her bath.

"You learn something new everyday” she says still out of breath.

She gets up to use the bathroom, and while on the toilet it finally dawns on her that Jon nutted in her.

“Are you okay, sweet girl?”

“Your cum is dripping out of me”

“Were pregnant” he yells.

"That's not funny, Jon," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I'm just kidding, relax! We'll go to Walgreens after our bath," he said, laughing.

[punksyeet]

ᰔᩚ Hype Man ᰔᩚ

Plot: Gianna (OC) has her first ever shot at the NXT Women’s World Championship and, when it doesn’t go her way, her boyfriend Josh is right there to comfort her.

Warning: Hefty flirting & mature language!

I wake up to the sound of my alarm and instantly reach over to my nightstand to turn it off.

It's officially NXT Stand and Deliver season.

Tomorrow is the actual event, alongside WrestleMania Night One.

But today, however, are the kickoff shows.

This year, I'm involved in the main event with a title match against Roxanne Perez.

I let out a loud yawn in the middle of my stretch, and get ready for the day, as well as pack my tote bag.

Today, I plan on teasing my match gear, so I'm wearing: a pink rhinestone bra and thong set, some matching hot pink baggy jeans, a sheer pink shrug, air forces, and a matching cowgirl hat (the events are taking place in Texas this year).

I put on some silver jewelry, do my makeup and hair, spray some perfume, and head out the door.

————————————————————————————————-

I just arrived to the arena.

Once I step out of my SUV, fans cheer and chant my name and I acknowledge them by waving and blowing kisses as I head inside.

"Giiiiirl!” a familiar voice calls from behind me, once I enter the building.

I automatically turn around and see one of my best friends and former NXT-mates, Jade Cargill.

"JADEEE!" I squeal excitedly, and we share the biggest bear hug and kisses on the cheek.

She pulls away and scans my body up and down while snapping her fingers. "This fucking outfittt!"

I giggle and spin around to give her the full view.

"I absolutely can't with you sis! You look stunning!" she continues.

I step back and place a hand on my hip, while scanning her body right back. "Girl excuse me?! Look at you! Look at this body teaaaa!"

She laughs and pulls me back in for a hug. "I missed you so much honey. How has NXT been treating you?"

I sigh deeply and fix my hat. "Girl it's been great, don't get me wrong. But it's nowhere near the same without you."

She sticks out her bottom lip. "You're telling me. WWE is so much more chaotic. I honestly miss it here sometimes."

I smile softly. "Okay but girl you've been eating it up over there! We're all so happy for you!"

She giggles again. "Thank you honey. It's been quite the ride, but I wouldn't trade it for the world."

I nod, smiling. "Absolutely sis, I don't blame you one bit."

We end up talking for about ten more minutes, before Shawn comes over to greet us and tell me that I'm on in 20 minutes.

"Alright mama, it was great seeing you, but I gotta go get ready for my promo with Roxanne. I'll see you later?" I suggest, holding her arms.

She nods, smiling. "Absolutely! I'll be watching you Gigi girl! Go kill it!"

We share one last hug and kisses before I head off.

————————————————————————————————-

My segment is in about 10 minutes, so I'm in my dressing room adding the final touches to my look.

As I'm playing with my hair, I hear a knock at the door.

"Come in!" I call, fixing a strand with my curling iron.

And in comes the sexiest pain in my ass, Jey Uso.

Another former NXT-mate, except one that I've fallen head over heels with. And he with me.

"Hey you," he coos sexily, walking in and closing the door behind him.

"Hi Josh," I reply flirtatiously, trying to hide my smirk.

Through the mirror, I see that he's wearing a black jean jacket with nothing underneath and matching bottoms, white air forces, as well as some gold jewelry.

Fuck. This man will be the death of me.

He walks up from behind me and leans against the wall, his arms folded. "You look good."

I unplug my curling iron, turn around in my chair, and get up so that I'm standing in front of him.

"You don't look so bad yourself," I say, pulling him in by either side of his jacket.

He smirks and presses our lips together, snaking his hands on my hips and pulling me in closer.

"So what are you doing here?" I ask, playing with his chain once we pull away.

"Well I couldn't let my lady go out there without me wishing her good luck, now could I?" he asks, stroking my sides.

I raise an eyebrow. "Your lady, huh?"

He licks his bottom lip and scans my body, his eyes finally landing on my breasts and exposed cleavage.

"My eyes are up here pretty boy," I flirt, gently lifting his chin.

He smirks once again and, as he's leaning in, I get another knock at my door.

"Gianna, you're on in five!" one of the members of creative call.

I throw my head back and groan, causing him to laugh.

"Hey my promo with the guys is in like an hour. We can hang out afterwards, okay?" he suggests.

I nod, biting my lip and wrapping my arms around him.

He pulls me in for a hug and gives me one last kiss. "Good luck babygirl. I'll be watching."

"Thank you," I reply, blushing.

I kiss the corner of his mouth before letting go of his hands and exiting my room.

—————————————————————————————————

"And now, the woman that's going up against your current Women's NXT Champion, Roxanne Perez, please welcome Gianna Nicole!" Booker T says into the microphone.

My entrance theme, Trip The Darkness by Lacuna Coil, plays and I walk out to the stage.

Once the crowd sees me, they go from loud to wild.

I'm talking singing along to my theme and everything.

Nothing beats this feeling.

I walk upstage, touching as many hands as I physically can before heading over to Booker.

We share a quick hug and I start my promo.

Eventually, Roxanne interrupts me and I end the segment with a mic drop, leaving her speechless and the crowd cheering.

As soon as we're backstage and out of sight, we share a lengthy hug and well wishes for the match tomorrow before heading our separate ways.

I head back to my dressing room, running into some of my co-workers and WWE stars on the way.

Once I'm inside, I shut the door behind me and check my phone.

I smile when I see texts from a certain someone come through.

Joshh 🥰: Damn girl you look too good 😩

Joshh 🥰: Get her ass baby!

Joshh 🥰: You're gonna rock it tomorrow mama I'm so proud of you 🫶🏽

Joshh 🥰: I gotta go get ready but I'll meet you in your hotel room once my promo is done ❤️❤️

I text back, smiling at my phone like an idiot.

Gi 🩵: Thank you love. Best of luck and I'll see you soon. 🥹🫶🏽

I grab my stuff and head out.

—————————————————————————————————

I just finished taking my makeup off and changing into something more comfy.

FATU replied to your story: 🤤

gianna nicole 🧚🏽‍♀️: Hurry I miss youuu 🥹😩

FATU: Omw I just finished up ❤️

gianna nicole 🧚🏽‍♀️: Alr 🥰🥰

—————————————————————————————————

Josh got here about two hours ago.

So far we've ordered room service, made out, watched a movie, made out some more, cuddled, oh and just finished making out! Again!

"I can't get enough of these ma," he coos, brushing his thumb across my bottom lip.

"Clearly," I reply sarcastically, flicking my hair off my shoulder.

He sucks his teeth. "Girl don't act like yo tongue wasn't willingly down my throat half a second ago."

I giggle and wrap my arms around him as he buries his face into my neck.

"Mmm fuuuck," I moan, as he slowly kisses and sucks below my ear all the way down to my bare shoulder.

"You like that mama?" he mutters in between kisses, squeezing my hips.

I throw my head back. "You know I do."

I feel him smirk as he keeps going, trailing his hands down further and onto my ass, caressing and playing with it through my sweats.

"Boy if you keep doing this," I begin. "We're gonna be half on a baby soon."

He pulls away, an eyebrow raised. "And the bad part of that would be...?"

"Joshuaaaa!" I whine.

He chuckles. "I know baby, I know. You don't wanna be sore for your match tomorrow. But once you win, this ass is mine. Deal?"

I playfully roll my eyes. "Deal."

We shake hands and he kisses my knuckles before laying down next to me and wrapping me in his arms.

After about an hour, he decides to leave for the night.

"It's getting late mama," he says, rubbing my back. "And we both have an early morning tomorrow. I should probably go, yeah?"

I sigh, still holding onto him. "Okay."

He smiles and kisses my temple. "Listen, once we're done with our matches tomorrow, we can spend all the time in the world together. Okay?"

I nod, giving him a soft smile back.

"I'll see you tomorrow princess," he coos before lifting my chin gently and pressing his lips to mine.

I kiss back and he gets out of bed and heads out.

—————————————————————————————————

1!

2!

3!

The crowd has a bunch of mixed emotions, some booing and some cheering, as Roxanne crawls off of me and holds her title up.

I lost.

My first chance at a title and I blew it.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

As the ring is being set for the next match, I head up the ramp in disbelief.

Despite what just happened, fans cheer for me and chant my name, but don't have the energy to acknowledge them.

I don't deserve them.

I don't deserve half the love I'm being shown.

Once I get backstage, Josh is there.

"Baby? You alright?" he asks, his arms open.

I slowly shake my head and, without saying a word, walk right past him.

I can't face anyone, not even him. Not like this.

Tears slowly streaming down my face, I head to my dressing room, pack all my stuff, and leave for the hotel.

Once I arrive, I drop my stuff at the door, climb onto my bed, dig my head into my knees, and cry.

And cry.

And cry some more.

—————————————————————————————————

It's been about an hour since my match and I haven't moved from my bed.

I haven't touched my phone.

I haven't changed.

All I've been doing is staring into space.

Why? Why couldn't I just defeat her?

Tears start to roll down my already stained cheeks as I realize that my self confidence is going down by the second.

I want to quit.

I want to crawl into a hole and never show my face in this business again.

I'm an embarrassment.

I'm a f-

My thoughts are cut off when I hear knocking at my door.

I attempt to speak but my throat is so unbelievably dry from crying.

I take a sip of water from the bottle on my nightstand and try again.

"Wh-who is it?" I call, my voice barely over a whisper.

"Baby? It's me." Josh replies. "Can I come in?"

I take a deep breath. "Yeah."

I hear the door open and close, then footsteps coming toward me.

"Hi," I say, not even bothered to turn around.

I can't even look at him.

"Hi," he replies, rubbing my back. "You feeling okay?"

Just laying there, I don't respond.

Not because I expect him to know how I feel, but because even I don't know how I feel.

He sighs, gets up again, and walks around the bed, and kneels on the floor so he can face me.

I look into his gorgeous brown eyes, tears still spilling from mine.

"I don't know what to do, Josh," I finally say after a sniffle. "I don't know what's wrong with me. How could I lose? I'm an awful wrestler."

He uses his thumb to stroke my cheek. "Babygirl I want you to listen to me. What happened out there, it doesn't define you, okay? You'll have plenty more chances to come. And whether you win or lose, those won't define you either. What defines you is what you think about yourself."

I can't bring myself to speak again.

I simply just stare into his eyes.

"And as for you being an 'awful wrestler'," he continues, using his fingers as quotation marks. "You and Roxanne put on one hell of a show for all those people. You're fucking incredible, mama. So I don't want you to ever say that about yourself again, okay?"

I nod, sniffling again, wiping my tears with a tissue.

"Thank you," I reply, my voice just above a whisper. "I needed this. I needed you."

He gives me a soft smile and leans in, kissing my cheek. "It's my pleasure, beautiful. I love you so much."

My lips part in shock.

Josh and I have been flirtatious towards each other for months now, but we've never used the L word.

Before I can speak up and reply, he shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said tha-"

"Josh," I reply, cutting him off and placing a hand on the side of his face. "Baby, I love you too."

He stares at me dumbfounded before a gorgeous smile grows on his face. "You do?"

I nod, a soft smile on my mine. "I always have. More than anything. You going out of your way and coming in here just to comfort me, it just made me realize it even more. I love you Joshua Fatu."

His smile grows even wider and he cups my face, pressing our lips together.

After a few strokes, we pull away slowly.

"Now," he begins. "How does a nice steaming hot bath sound?"

I nod, smiling. "It sounds perfect."

He pecks my lips once more and starts to sit up.

"But first," I continue, placing a hand on his thigh to stop him from getting up completely. "How about I honor that deal from last night?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Baby are you sure? I know we agreed to doing it once you won and...."

His voice trails off and I take a deep breath. "But I did win."

He tilts his head out of confusion. "You did?"

I slide my lower lip in between my teeth, nodding. "Uh huh. I won because I just bagged the man of my dreams."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Well that makes two of us."

My eyes follow him as he stands up and removes his shirt, revealing his sexy tattoo covered torso and climbs into bed.

He attacks me with kisses and I giggle as he pulls the covers over us.

Liked by uceyjucey, trinity_fatu, jadecargill, roxanne_wwe, and 187k others

giannamacri it's no secret that this weekend didn't end the way i've been hoping it would for months now, but i still had the time of my life doing what i love in front of you all. i'm endlessly grateful to have been apart of this event and to have received as much love and support as i did, even when i felt like i didn't deserve it. i love you texas. until next time. 🩷

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