#i have clipped so many masks

[fryoftreachery]

ok so technically I wanted this to be in chronological order in terms of when the games were released, but dw im aware that i included some of the HD versions (they just look good please dont come at me)

also i only had space in the bit of this song i was using for 12 games so im sorry all you adventure of link, link to the past, etc fans :(

[gloomwitchwrites]

First of all, I 100% know this is an overused trope... but still....

What If 141 2 people 1 bed trope

Who cares that it's an overused trope? It's a classic for a reason!

I will never tire of a one bed trope. It can be steamy and sexy. It can be angsty. It can be tense. It can literally be so many things at once. It's also a wonderful canvas to play around, and I had a lot of fun with this one. I know you've waited for this one for a while. I hope you enjoy it! :)

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x TF141 Female Reader

Content & Warnings: swearing, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, multiple positions, rough kissing, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male & female receiving), admission of feelings, pretend sex, fake dating/married

Word Count: 6.3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Fuck,” mutters Price.

You glance over your shoulder. Captain Price stands near the hotel window, the gauzy blinds closed but the thicker ones bunched to the sides, allowing in natural light. He’s staring at something happening in the parking lot.

“What it is?” you ask, starting to walk over to him.

“They might have found us.”

Dread flares hot, clenching the muscles in your stomach until it hurts. “Are you sure?”

Price nods, and then backs away from the window. “There’s no way they saw our faces during the infiltration. We wore masks. Might have tracked the stolen car.”

“We need to leave,” you say, but Price shakes his head.

“There’s too many of them, and they’re likely watching all exits on the main floor.” He sighs. “We need to play this right.”

The two of you are freshly showered, and the clothes you wore for the infiltration have already been discarded. Burned—actually, somewhere in the deserts of Arizona. At the moment, the two of you look like civilians.

“They can’t search the building, John. Not without bloodshed.”

He runs a hand through his hair, his gaze darting across the room as his brain works something over. You fidget, picking at your nails. It’s a terrible habit. One you do when you’re nervous.

Price glances at you and your heart drops. “They look official, and that’s probably all that matters. The scrawny teenager at the front desk isn’t going to put up a fight if the credentials appear legitimate.”

“Fuck,” you whisper, striding toward the window to look for yourself.

Captain Price is right. They do look official. They also look fucking terrifying which would scare anyone into compliance if you don’t know what to look for.

“We’re on the bottom floor,” you say, stepping back.

“I know,” growls Price. He pivots, examining the entire room.

He goes for the car keys and shuts them inside the safe. The only other thing in the room is a duffle bag full of plain clothes and generic toiletries. Price pushes clothes aside and then draws out the pistol hiding beneath it all. He checks the clip and then preps the barrel.

“Take off your clothes.”

“What?” you ask, startled.

Price walks over to the singular bed in the room, tucking the gun beneath the pillows. “Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely,” you affirm.

“Then take off your clothes,” repeats Price, reaching behind his head with one hand to grab the collar of his shirt. He pulls it over and off, tossing it aside.

“Spread it around. Make a mess,” he instructs as he goes for the belt on his jeans.

For a moment, you’re stunned, staring at Captain Price’s bare chest. While he’s muscular, it isn’t from a life in the gym. He is thick in all the right places. A solid wall with a beautiful dusting of dark hair that travels downward.

The belt is gone, and that too is tossed aside.

Without removing your gaze, you tentatively discard your shirt, but keep your bra on. It’s a barrier. A safety net. Price isn’t even glancing at you, but you do notice some color at the tops of his cheeks. A soft pink that makes your thoughts spiral outward to imagine if this gentle blush is the same color as the head of his cock.

Price’s jeans go next, already discarded before you move on to the next article of clothing. He’s only in socks and black boxer briefs. There is so much of him on display that you’re starting to forget yourself.

He glances at you, and that color in his cheeks darken. “You’re still dressed.”

You open your mouth to answer but then you hear a shout from down the hall and sharp banging on a door. They’re far too close.

This urges you on, moving with faster intention, and once you’re down to just your bra and underwear, you finally glance at Price again.

Price—who is naked. Completely bare. And you have a full view of what he’s been packing underneath all that.

Fuck.

He approaches the bed, and tugs back the sheets. The muscles in his arms and back tense as he crumples the bedding to sexed perfection—as if the two of you have been going at it for hours.

Price sits down on the edge of the bed and slides underneath, his legs parting enough that you get a glimpse of everything. This man isn’t even fully hard but from what you can see, it would be a tight fit if you actually sat on him.

Lifting a pillow, Price checks for the pistol and then sets it back, settling into the sheets. He frowns slightly when his attention returns to you.

“All of that has to go.”

“Does it?” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest.

There’s another thunderous pounding on a nearby door followed by shouting.

“It does if we’re going to make it out of here alive.” Price shrugs, and then smirks. “Could help you.”

Sighing heavily and you reach behind your back, unclasping the bra. You hurl it at him and Price catches it out of the air. Crossing your arms over your chest, you hurry toward the bed. But you don’t make it beneath the sheets.

“Everything,” repeats Price.

Reaching out, Price snags the thin cotton fabric and pulls down, revealing you to him and the room. Instinct as you grasping for control, hands splayed over his large forearms as he gives the fabric another yank.

You cannot form a response. Words leave you as Price drags you into the bed with him.

“Sorry about this,” he grumbles, that color returning to his cheeks in full force. It’s cute actually—how sheepish he looks.

You swallow, and lick your lips. “It’s fine.”

Price leans back against the pillows, guiding you with him. “Get on top.”

Straddling his hips, you settle yourself over him. You try—and fail—to not notice the way the hard length of him nestles against your pussy. You keep one arm crossed over your breasts but all it does is hides your nipples from him. Your other hand is splayed wide and pressed against his chest.

“We’re married,” he says, staring into your eyes. “That’s the story. I’ll do the talking. You act like the scared wife when they come barging in.”

You nod, and Price releases a deep exhalation. His hands rest on your thighs. They’re a brand. Warm. All you can think about. They move upward to settle on your hips.

“Pretend you’re riding me,” he murmurs.

With a gentle hand, Price grasps your wrist, drawing your arm away from your breasts. You don’t resist, and he brings your other palm to rest against his chest.

“Pretend,” he reiterates, hands returning to your hips. Price creates the motion by dragging you back and forth, imitating a rocking motion. Though you’re stationary, your pussy still drags against the length of his cock.

You notice the tremor in his jaw as your bodies rub against each other. This is affecting him as much as it is you.

“Pretend,” you say back to him.

Price nods and then grabs for the television remote from the bedside table. He turns it on and then ups the volume. You imitate the motion he created, rocking back and forth, sliding yourself along his cock, pretending you don’t notice how wet you’ve become over the course of the last few minutes.

His hands return to your hips, and then Price sinks back completely into the pillows, his eyelids softening as he gazes up at you. It’s far too intimate of a stare, and it’s only compounded when one of his hands meander upward to slide over your stomach and then between your breasts. You gasp as his thumb traces the underside of your breast.

Head tilting back, you grind downward, finding yourself diving into the warmth that’s starting to pool low in your belly.

A sharp pounding at the door has you snapping to attention. Every muscle tenses. Seizes.

“You’re fine,” coos Price. “We’ll be fine.”

The pounding comes again and then a yell from behind it. The voice is muffled. Not only by the door but from the television.

Swallowing, you try to connect into it again, rolling your hips, imagining that Price is your husband—that you love him—and this is simply an exploration of that love.

When you roll your hips again, Price sits up slightly, his warm breath brushing against your breast. A tingle shudders through you, and Price groans before his tongue grazes over your nipple, bringing it to a point.

“Knew you’d taste sweet,” he says softly at the same moment the hotel door bursts open.

One second, you’re atop Price, and the next his arms are around you, turning you away from the door to hide you from sight. You’re not on your back but Price has shoved you toward the bed as he sits up, creating a barrier between you and the intruders.

The tactical-clad trio entering the room—with a hotel worker nervously trailing behind—

don’t even get a word in before Price starts going off on them.

“Get out! Get the fuck out!”

His accent is gone, replaced by an American one. It’s incredibly good, and his feigned anger even more so. The men entering faulter under Price’s tirade. They likely weren’t expecting this, and Price uses this opportunity to push the advance.

“We’re fucking busy in here. Fuck off!”

The man at the head of the trio clears his throat and holds up a hand, but Price chucks one of the water glasses at the man. The guy ducks and it shatters against the wall. The hotel worker at their back squeaks and pushes forward.

“We’re so sorry. Just a search for some prison escapees. We’re clearly in the wrong room.”

Prison escapees? You want to laugh but think better of it. Instead, you press your face against Price’s arm, feigning sheepishness.

Price’s lips turn into a snarl, and the hotel worker blanches.

“We’ll give you a complimentary stay for the inconvenience,” the man babbles before waving his arms to usher the other men out.

For a moment, you don’t think it’ll work, but they go.

You and Price don’t sigh with relief until the door shuts. His forehead presses against yours, chest heaving.

“Nice accent,” you whisper and this draws a smile from his lips.

“Like it more than this one?” he asks, his regular accent returning.

“Nope,” you say. “This one suits you fine.”

Price’s gaze draws over your exposed body and then lands on your face. It’s soft. Sensual. You’re frozen beneath it, breath catching as his fingers brush along the line of your jaw.

You’re not sure who moves first but his lips are on yours and then you’re moaning. Price rolls you onto your back, each kiss more demanding and fiercer than the last. He tastes of the mint toothpaste he used earlier and smells of soap.

Reaching between your bodies, you find him hard, and there is no other need within you but the one that craves for him to be inside. To fuck you ceaselessly.

You stroke him and Price groans into your mouth, his hand wrapping around your throat. Hooking your legs behind him, you guide him to your entrance. With a light press of your heels, Price takes your meaning.

There is no gentle pretense. No soft kisses or playful coaxing. Price goes all in, and you break the kiss to gasp aloud, nails digging into his back. Price is thick and having him inside you is a deliciously painful stretch.

It is all desperate the way he moves. Price isn’t gentle. It’s skin slapping against skin. It is sweat and groans. A savage hardness that borders on hysteria.

Your hand reaches behind you to press against the headboard as Price fucks you into the bed, but even that is shaking, banging loudly against the wall. It’s clear even over the drone from the television. The people next door will know exactly what the two of you are up to.

Price is relentless. A man starved. He nips at your bottom lip. Sucks it into his mouth. And when that isn’t enough, he goes for your neck and then your breasts, making your nipples smart and throb under his teeth and tongue.

The orgasm comes sharp and hot, bursting forth like a wave. And when you squeeze around him, Price is right there with you, his cum coating your insides as he too finds his end.

The two of you are all heavy breath. Sweaty limbs.

Price nuzzles the side of your neck, placing soft kisses there until he travels up to find your lips again. These are gentle. Not desperate like before.

When there’s a moment to speak, it is you that breaks the silence.

“So much for pretending.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It’s the middle of the day but you wouldn’t be able to tell.

A storm is raging—the rain thick and heavy. It falls from the sky in large drops that soak clothes and slick the skin. It’s a bit cold, too. A little chilly. The kind of wet chill that hardens the nipples and brings a shiver to your bones.

“Here. You’re soaked.”

Kyle presents a towel. It’s off-white and a bit frayed. But what can you expect from a motel in the middle of nowhere? Having a towel at all is nice. At least it isn’t threadbare.

“Thanks,” you reply softly, gently dapping the rough-textured material against your face.

Kyle strides over to the heating unit. It’s dirty and barely anchored to the wall. He hits a few buttons and then the thing turns on. It’s loud. Clunky. But heat starts to seep from the slats, warming the room.

After drying your face, you begin to remove outer pieces of clothing. Kyle might be your teammate, but there isn’t really anywhere to hide but the bathroom. Knowing the state of most motels, you don’t really want to find out either.

Kyle has the same idea. He dries off with his own towel, removing soaked articles of clothing as he goes. You try not to look—to be discreet—but it’s hard not to steal a peek. Kyle is all toned muscle and firmness. There’s a light dusting of hair on his chest. It’s a bit thicker around his navel. It trails downwards, and your mind wanders to a place it shouldn’t.

You glance away but not fast enough. His gaze roams upward, finding you, and there he pauses, observing you as you did him.

Pretending is best.

You attempt to act like you don’t notice him at all, turning your back like you’re incredibly interested with the wallpaper that likely hasn’t been replaced in years.

It’s his heat that draws your attention—that steals your breath, and makes every muscle in your body tense with anticipation.

“You’re shivering,” he murmurs.

Kyle is so close. Close enough that his breath brushes against your bare shoulder. You’re just in your bra and underwear, the only items that aren’t completely soaked from the rain.

He inhales, and that exhalation teases your flesh again. Giving in, you close your eyes, sinking into Kyle’s presence.

When you open them again, you notice a mirror hanging on the wall. It’s great if you were trying to plan an outfit, but that isn’t what you notice.

Instead, you see yourself. And Kyle.

The backs of his knuckles lightly caress the side of your arm. His head is tipped forward and turned inward like you’ll turn around any moment to kiss him.

The urge is there. Tugging. Wanting you to do just that.

The two of you are always walking around the other, seeking comfort and closeness but never seizing it. Maybe you should. Maybe—turning around is the best thing you can do for yourself.

“Kyle,” you breathe, and his little hum in answer tightens that string.

Without hesitation, you do turn.

Kyle’s lips are right there. They’re parted slightly. Inviting.

His arm drapes across your waist, hand splaying wide against your stomach, pressing until the two of you are sandwiched together.

It’s not like you don’t want this. You do. You want Kyle. Have since the moment he introduced himself to you. But the two of you have always remained professional in every space you occupy.

And now there is no one around.

No one to see.

No one to know.

Your head tips back in answer, and Kyle leans into it, pressing his lips to yours. It is sweet. Gentle. More of an ask than anything else.

And you reply, meeting him in equal measure. The pressure on your stomach increases just as Kyle’s other hand wraps around the front of your throat, holding you still. Each kiss is a claiming, one you freely submit to.

Kyle is all sugared-warmth, and you want to rot your teeth.

Draping your arm around the back of his neck, you pull him closer. Kyle nips. Bites. Sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before soothing the burn with a few tender kisses. Heat blossoms in your core before morphing into an aching slickness.

You’ve been putting him off—brushing him aside.

Why wait any longer when Kyle is all you crave?

“Fucking hell, love,” he groans against your mouth.

Your lips part, and Kyle slides his tongue inside. His taste is everything, but you want to know him everywhere.

Your hand seeks, brushing against his hardness through his boxer briefs. When you slip your hand beneath the elastic band, Kyle’s only response to kiss you harder.

Wrapping your fingers around him, you start to stroke what you can with the little room you have. Your thumb brushes over the head of his cock and Kyle draws back.

“I’ve wanted this since I met you,” he says, voice a bit rough.

Twisting in his grip, you turn to face him. “Can I show you how much I’ve wanted you, too?” you ask, pressing your breasts against his chest.

Kyle loosens his hold and you drop to your knees, taking his boxer briefs with you. His cock is gorgeous. It curves upward slightly, and a pearly bead of precum blooms in the slit.

He whispers your name, and then you have him in hand. Stroking once. Twice.

You lick off that bead. Savor his taste. Go back for more.

Kyle grabs the back of your head, drawing you to him. You open your mouth. Swallow him down. Throating him until you gag.

“Fuck,” he groans, elongating the vowel.

You work him with hand and mouth, keeping a steady rhythm that has him weak and wanton. You have all the control—until you don’t.

“Let me fuck your mouth, love. Please.”

The please is what does it. You release his cock, placing both hands on his thighs. With a pleased growl, Kyle keeps your head stationary. You anticipate the first thrust, and it is sinful. The movement goes straight to your pussy as you imagining him fucking you there like he fucks your mouth.

Fingers dig into muscled thigh. You want to touch yourself, to tease your clit while he does it. He is a god above you—Adonis.

“Can’t wait to taste your cunt, love,” rasps Kyle. “Can’t wait to make you drip for me.”

His desire fuels your own, and you urge him on, gently cupping him with one hand, thumb lightly rubbing the sensitive strip of flesh there.

Kyle’s hips stutter, and you relax your throat, humming around his cock as your lips meet the base. He holds you there, and you take it all, thighs chaffing from the friction of you rubbing them together in anticipation.

You blink up at him, and Kyle wipes away a tear with his thumb.

“My turn,” he murmurs.

You’re on your feet and then on your back in seconds. All the wind is knocked out of you, and then Kyle’s tongue is there, sliding through your slickness. Parting. Teasing the opening of your vagina before trailing upward to circle around your clit.

Gasping, your hands reach for him. Kyle grabs both wrists, keeps them planting on your stomach as he fucks you with his tongue. His shoulders dig into your thighs, keeping them wide. He’s stronger than you even as your thighs quiver, wanting to close, wanting to shut.

Kyle groans against your pussy, and then he’s on your clit, moving in such an easy, languid way that everything explodes outward. A shudder passes from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. Your pussy clenches. Unclenches. Clenches again.

Kyle doesn’t let up. He doesn’t cease. Every stroke strikes true and then your body betrays itself, overstimulation setting in, and the urge to wiggle away is paramount.

But just as you push at him—just as your body draws back. Kyle is releasing your wrists, pushing himself up and over you, spreading those legs even wider to slide inside.

The bed creaks beneath you, and then he’s thrusting.

Your moans of pleasure become one with the rain.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Single lamp. Lone bed.

Peeling paint. Dusty corners.

“Something’s on your mind.” Your voice is the only sound in the room other than the AC unit.

Soap’s sigh is soft and small as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

It’s the last night before the potential end. Before victory or failure. Just the two of you now with the plan to meet up with others later.

He nods, and you take a tentative step forward. “We attended the briefing. You know the details.”

“Aye.”

“Then what has you worried?” you ask, taking another step in Soap’s direction.

A warm, orange glow emits from the singular lamp on the bedside table. It’s not enough light to illuminate the cheap peeling paint or the dirt in the corners of the room. It only gives life to the bed and the side of Soap’s face.

It’s not like you have an unlimited budget. A motel room is the best the two of you could manage for some rest before moving on. The man at the desk didn’t even glance up when he asked if they only wanted a room for an hour.

You had asked for two beds. The man at the desk replied that no one who stops here asks for that.

One bed it is.

One bed.

Somehow, you’ll have to sleep beside Soap while simultaneously shoving down the urge to reach out to him.

Sighing, Soap leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. His gaze drifts slightly as if he’s not focusing on anything in particular. Running his fingers through his short mohawk, he tugs on the ends, mussing the freshly washed strands, creating a wavy mess.

Just that one movement as you leaning forward, nostrils flaring to inhale that clean scent.

“Adaptability,” he answers. Finally.

Instead of sitting on the bed beside him, you sink to your knees, resting your arm on the bed, and your chin on your arm.

The two of you have been on missions before but never together like this.

Never alone.

Keeping your gaze downward, you notice just how close you are to him—and how Soap leans in your direction, the edge of his knee brushing against the side of your hand.

It’s a small contact, but he’s warm, and that warmth is transferring into yourself, unspooling outward. It’s a difficult thing—because all this time you’ve harbored feelings for him, and yet have never acted on them.

“You’re quick on your feet, Soap,” you murmur, one finger absently extended to brush over the curve of his knee.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “You can call me Johnny.”

Johnny. You’ve never called him that. Soap, sure. Sergeant MacTavish? All the time.

“I thought Ghost only had that right.”

Only Ghost calls Soap ‘Johnny.’ That’s understood by everyone.

Soap shrugs. “He did.” He glances at you, his smile widening. “But I’d like to hear you say it.”

Something swirls in your stomach, twisting like a knife.

“How would you like to hear it?” you reply.

Johnny’s smile, which is so wide and teasing, softens into a sultry smirk. “I have options?”

“You do.”

Johnny’s usual playfulness emerges. “Say it like you’re angry with me.”

“Johnny,” you say, deepening your voice to sound like Ghost.

He bursts out laughing, falling back onto the bed, clutching his stomach. “Oh, aye. I’ll give you that.”

“What else?” you tease. “I demand more.”

“Say it like you’re annoyed with me.”

You do just that, and Johnny sits up, turning on his side.

“Again,” you prompt.

The middle of Johnny’s brow creases and then his hand cradles the side of your face. He closes the distance, kissing you deeply—as if you are his lover and not a friend.

But you don’t pull away. You indulge yourself, kissing him back just as sweetly.

You’re not sure how much time passes, just that it does, and his small retreat after it’s done is all you have in acknowledging its passing.

The withdrawal is short. Johnny doesn’t move away. He keeps his hand on your cheek. The tip of his nose nearly brushing yours.

“Say it now,” he breathes, voice raspy.

“Johnny,” but it’s not what you intended to say.

He sighs. “Again.”

“Johnny.”

This time he groans, and then your lips are fusing, becoming one. You’re dragged off the floor and into his arms, tangling in his heat, forgetting yourself completely.

“Johnny,” you repeat, and then your shirt is gone, followed by your bra.

He nips at the curve of your breasts before sucking your nipple into his mouth. His teeth graze flesh and you say his name again until it becomes a strangled moan.

The front of your jeans is open, and his hand is there, cupping your sex, fingers dragging through your wetness.

“Johnny,” but it’s to stop him, to remind him that this cannot go on.

“Fucking hell. Love the way you say my name.”

This melts your resolve. Makes your legs spread wider. Makes you shove at your pants and create plenty of space.

Johnny knows. He understands.

He yanks them down even as he peppers your breasts with little nips and kisses. Your fingers drags through his hair as he sucks the other nipple into his mouth, bringing it to perky attention.

One finger slides inside, and you groan loudly, legs falling wide as Johnny settles himself between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, claiming your mouth and pumping his finger. You whimper as he inserts a second. “Wanted you so bad.”

Your pussy flutters, squeezing around him. It is Johnny that groans this time, and it is a primal sound.

“Can I fuck you?” he asks. “Please.”

“Johnny,” you breathe. “Johnny.”

“Need a yes or no. Tell me. Do you want me? I’ve wanted you.”

You answer by finding him—guiding him to the place you need him to.

With a low growl, Johnny pins your arms above your head, slotting his pelvis against yours, the head of his cock sinking in until you’re taking all of him.

“Johnny!”

“That’s what I want to hear,” he croons, starting to thrust.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I can’t tell what blood is yours and what isn’t.”

“Can fucking do it myself.”

“Ghost—”

“It’s not a problem.”

“Simon,” you snap, and he stops fidgeting.

Behind the plain balaclava, you see the fire in Lieutenant Riley’s eyes. This man is your superior. At least, right now he is. But the mission is done. It’s over. Yet the two of you are stranded, and making contact with Price is going to take time.

Not to mention that Simon is injured, and you have no fucking idea where at.

“Let me help you,” you say as soothingly as possible.

You don’t want to fight with him. All you want is to help Simon, to clean him up, and get him into bed. Rest and healing are what he needs right now. Contacting Price can wait. Base can stew for a while longer.

The two of you are in a motel room in the middle of fucking nowhere America. It’s shit overall, but it will have to do. There’s no way anyone is searching for the two of you out here. You drove until you nearly ran out of gas, and then you refilled and drove some more. Simon was in the back of the car, covered in blood.

But he was awake. Moving. Not a head injury, and not enough to get him immediate medical treatment. Not like he would have allowed you to take him to a hospital anyway. Lieutenant Riley is fucking stubborn. Sometimes infuriatingly so.

Simon stares, hard, his dark eyes intense behind the balaclava. He blinks, and then pushes up from the chair, keeping his gaze trained on you.

“Lieutenant,” you mutter, annoyed.

As Simon stands and attempts to take a step forward, his left leg wobbles, and he nearly topples forward. Your arms go out to catch him, holding him steady. He’s a big guy, and he seems to know this because he tries to prop himself up using the chair.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” you snap.”

“Listen—”

“I’m not arguing with you Simon Riley.”

Using his full name shuts him up. It’ll likely earn you a reprimand later, but fuck it, you’re over this.

“Stay there.” You shove him back down into the chair and head into the bathroom.

There is a single overhead light. Flipping the switch turns it on and the fan. It’s a tight space, but thankfully the shower isn’t also a tub. That would be a nightmare getting him in. Instead, there is a sink, a toilet, and a dividing wall that cuts the room in half. It’s more like a locker shower but it’ll work.

Reaching in, you turn the handle. You jump back as cold water shoots out of the shower head. After waiting for a few seconds, steam starts to rise.

You take a deep breath, knowing what you have to do. “You got this,” you murmur, heading back into the room.

Simon leans forward in the chair, forearms resting on his knees.

You hold out your hand. “Let’s go.”

Lieutenant Riley’s head swivels in your direction. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” you reply, holding firm. “Come on.”

With a deep sigh, Simon reaches out and slides his hand into yours. It’s warm. Calloused. You squeeze it and step forward, extending your other arm to wrap around his torso. Simon stands. Wobbles. But you snake your arm around him, and then it’s a slow trek into the bathroom.

Simon is limping, but he’s showing no other signs that his injury hurts him. Might be minor, or he’s just good at covering up the pain.

Once the two of you are inside the bathroom, you realize just how small the space is. Maneuvering Simon to the shower is difficult, a weird dance to wiggle around the door and toilet to the opening of the shower.

You retreat slightly, and Simon leans against the wall, his eyelids closing as he takes a deep breath.

“You good?” you ask, concern creasing your brow.

Simon nods. “I’ll manage.” His eyelids open slowly and then he stares into the shower. “You want me in there?”

“You’ll need to remove a few things first,” you reply, gesturing toward his uniform.

Simon snorts. “Trying to get me naked?”

“You wish,” you retort, even as your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Need help?”

At first, Simon doesn’t say anything. He just reaches for his belt, removing it slowly with one hand.

“I’ll leave you to it,” you mumble, starting to turn away.

“Wait.”

You freeze, and then glance over your shoulder. “What is it?”

Simon shrugs. “What if I slip? Might need you to catch me.”

This bastard.

“Then I’ll stay,” you reply cooly, pretending that this doesn’t affect you.

But it does. It’s reshaping you, and Simon’s slow undressing isn’t helping things. He keeps his gaze on you the entire time, and you purposefully keep your eyes averted, when really you want to look. You want to know what he’s like under all that.

The belt goes. So does his tactical gear and jacket. Next is his shirt followed by his balaclava. You sneak a peek then, and Simon grins at you like he knew you’d look eventually.

“I’ll need some help with these. Getting them down that is.” Simon gestures towards his pants and you feel your face grow so hot you fear it might explode.

“Sure.”

You reach for him, silently chastising your shaking fingers. This is too much, even though you like it, and want more from it. You undo the button and zipper. Sliding your hands beneath the band, you shimmy Simon’s pants to the floor. He kicks them away and all that’s left are his boxer briefs. They’re tight and you notice the massive bulge in front.

Fuck.

“You can do the rest,” you reply, glancing away.

Simon removes them, and then he starts forward, arms outstretched to balance himself as he enters the shower.

“Fucking hell,” moans Simon as the hot water hits his body.

The groan that comes after is deep, and so sultry you feel a bolt of pleasure spike from your pussy.

“Should join me.”

“No thanks,” you say, averting your gaze away from Simon’s muscled backside.

One moment you’re facing the wall, and the next you’re under the spray of water.

“What the fuck,” you shriek, stumbling backward as Simon chuckles. Muttering under your breath, you stare down at your soaked clothing. “Goddamn it.” You start removing articles of clothing, the wet fabric peeling away from your skin.

“Fucking fine, Simon.”

You shed everything and storm under the spray, only for Simon to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against him. There is no pause between then and the moment his lips find yours. It is sweet, and warm. You instantly melt, enjoying every second.

But it’s fleeting.

You draw back, heart hammering in your chest.

“You’re covered in blood. Remember?”

Simon shrugs and then offers you the soap. “Clean me then.”

You do it, and when you’re done, he does the same for you. It’s far too intimate, and Simon’s gentleness is surprising. Once finished, you dry and bandage the wound on his leg. It’s not terrible—and will likely need stitches—but it’s not bleeding anymore.

The singular bed in the middle of the room is far too small. Not with Simon in at, spread out and naked under the sheets.

You slide in beside him, not knowing where you should settle. Simon is large, taking up most of the best. The only place is curled up next to his side.

Turning your resolve to steal, you settle in. You begin to turn away from Simon, but his arm shoots out, grasping your waist. You’re yanked across the bed, only to find yourself in Simon’s arms.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Stop pretending, love. We both know what’s going on. Don’t deny it.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Simon—”

“We’ve been making eyes at each other for fucking months. And now we’re alone. You think I don’t see the opportunity?”

Simon’s hand slides over the curve of your ass, and then dips beneath your shirt. You’re not wearing underwear, and when his fingers brush over your pussy, you gasp, pressing into him.

“You’re already wet for me,” growls Simon as he drags a finger through your folds. “So fucking wet.” He presses in, and your pussy parts for him.

“We can’t, Simon. You’re injured.”

“Not so much,” he coos. “Especially since I can do this.” On this, Simon drags the tips of his finger along the inside your pussy, hitting that sweet spot.

You moan, fingers digging into his chest as your back arches to press you further down on him.

“It’s just my leg that’s injured.” Simon’s lips brush against your cheek and then the edge of your ear. His breath is warm against your skin. “I can still fuck you. Have you on top. Bounce you on my cock.” Simon gives the curve of your ear the faintest kiss. “Would you like that, love? Do you want me to fuck you?”

“We—we—”

With his other hand, Simon grasps the back of your neck, drawing you against him, silencing whatever it is you’re trying to say. He seizes your mouth in a fierce kiss. You open for him, and his tongue slides inside. He tastes nice, and you want to sink into the feeling. Have him devour you completely.

“Let me in,” he murmurs against your lips.

You push up, doing exactly as he wants you to do. You settle on his lap, his hard cock pressed up against your thigh.

With a low growl, Simon removes your shirt, leaving you completely bare to his gaze.

“Much better,” he says, cupping your breasts as you lean on his chest, lifting your hips.

His cock slides through your folds, and then you start the descent, moaning as he splits you in two. The stretch is intense—nearly sharp with pain, but laced with pleasure. Simon’s eyelids flutter slightly, and his groan is pure sin.

Simon lightly squeezes your breasts one more time before his hands find your hips. He lifts you up, and then back down, bouncing you on his cock. You cling to him, allowing him to use you, to fuck you in whatever way he wants.

Each grunt and growl from him only makes you wetter. Hungrier.

“I’m gonna come inside you.”

It’s not a question. There is no other option, and you wouldn’t take anything else even if there was.

“Please,” you whimper.

Simon’s hands tighten, his hips thrusting upward to meet every downward movement. He sits up, his mouth clamping around a nipple to nip and suck. Your orgasm roars up from nowhere, and then you’re clenching around him, milking Simon’s cock as his own end greets him.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

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@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[rubyarerosies]

bf!suna who has an album of you filled with pics and the often stupid videos he takes when he’s feeling silly with you.

bf!suna who has a video of him standing behind you whilst you’re reading a book on the couch and his hand is in the video, faking a jerking off motion to you til you notice and then he releases his hand like he just finished.

bf!suna who has a video of you sleeping where your shirt has ridden up that your boobs are so close, if you stir in your sleep again they’ll, for sure, pop out. and in the video is another stupid clip of his hand, shaking madly while he gently (and reluctantly) pulls your shirt down, hand still shaking like it’s the hardest thing to do.

bf!suna who has another video of you sleeping and he’s just poking your cheeks softly, occasionally pinching them as well.

bf!suna who has a video of him creeping up behind you while you’re doing the dishes and he proceeds to cup your ass while bouncing it in his hand “hey everyone, back with another, this time featuring my girlfriends ass—with a review!” You obviously proceeded to wet him with the dirty sink water (he’s done this before, many, many times.)

bf!suna who has a video of you drunk and crying to the ending of coco while clinging to his side. his lips are pursed together while he’s giving you the nastiest yet nonchalant side eye, nodding once and a while to your complains, “this boys family is a menace Rin! Can you believe that?”

bf!suna who has a video of you squashed to his chest because your shirt is off out of annoyance to the heat of summer. You were bathing in the new chill of having no shirt that you didn’t notice he’s taking a video of him cheering silently while your side boob and his side of his chest are in view, mf is cheering like a teenage boy.

bf!suna who has a video of him randomly coming up to you and pressing your foreheads together while he opens his mouth wide in a funny way. You’re grimacing and he’s just in a silly mood to mess with you.

bf!suna who has a video of you walking from the water in your bathing suit, it flips back to him who falsely claims he’s been shot through his actions, “I’ve been shot by sexiness, someone help me,” it cuts after he pretends he’s dead on the sun-chair.

bf!suna who has a video of him after he’s done being your professional photographer. He pretends he’s taking more, going around you while you laugh, “look here, baby, yes! perfect! one more ms. Suna! Give me fierce!” Completely doesn’t care about the public walking past.

bf!suna who has a video of him pretending to be a YouTuber again. He has a cute headband on and a pink face mask on along with you who is busy doing a lip mask,

“hey everybody, welcome back! Today I am venturing into a women’s skin care,” you punched him in the chest playfully, “excuse you, i’m not just a women, thank you very much,”

he chuckled, “right, everyone, this is my beautiful, sexy, caring, and perfect girlfriend #soon-to-be-wife.” (he whispered that to the camera, hoping the songs playing on your speaker was loud enough.)

And finally, bf!suna who has a video of you crying while laughing after he just proposed, your quite literally balling and this mf is just smiling while cradling you to his side, “#soon-to-be-wife !”

bf!suna who just loves those videos so much (and taking more) that he hopes his storage doesn’t run out soon because he’s on his last storage plan.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I JUST SAW THESE POSTS OF DANNY BEING RAS AL GHUL CHILD LIKE THE FIRST THAT IS LIKE 25-30 YEARS OLDER THAN TALIA AND MAKE MY BRAIN WORKS FUCKING WIGGLE!?!?!??

anyway

Danny established the status quo and the disappeared for 20-60 years and the is summoned by Ra where he’s like “Dad you could’ve have called my personal phone you know that right?” And Ra’s like “YOU WENT OFF THE GRID FOR YEARS AND NEVER TOOD ME-!!??!? Now do you look different? Are you eating? What’s with comingoutthesummoningcirclefortheghostking? HMMM???”

“Ah- I knew I forgot something! Let me tell you all about it! I see you brought the whole fam and in laws let’s have dinner and discuss it- AWWWW THATS BABIES!!!” *Damian, Jason, Tim, and Dick being referred to as “babies”*

“Excuse me.” Danny then fucking tackles them in hugs and loves while dodging and/or holding their punches and kicks

"My maternal uncle is coming for a visit and likely evaluate my living arrangements.. We must be at our absolute best when he is here. " Damian announces one evening right as the family is finishing preparing for a night of crime fighting.

Everyone freezes from their respective stations, twisting around to stare at the young Robin in confusion. He doesn't notice; he is too busy making sure his katana is sharpened to perfection and balancing it on his fingertips.

"Baby Bat?" Dick calls, "What do you mean by that?"

Damian pauses in his prep work, approaching the eldest with a pretty impressive scowl. " Mother sent a messenger a few days ago about Uncle's plan audit. Should we fail it, I shall be removed into a different household."

"An audit? Removed?" Steph repeats, confused, but Damian has no idea why. He thought it was pretty apparent that Uncle Daniel would be scoring them, which would determine if Damian would be allowed to continue living within them. He has done so to all of Ra Al Ghul's offspring, and nothing his Grandfather has done has been able to stop him.

How could they think they would have more power than his grandfather?

"When shall Dusan be here?" Father asks, quickly switching on the home security. "What kind of attack should we expect?"

Damian scoffs, "Not the White Ghost. Uncle Dusan is on the other side of the world on a mission for Grandfather. No, Uncle Daniel will be the one conducting the suit. He is the eldest, after all."

Father's eyes narrow behind the white lenses of his masks. "I was unaware your mother had more siblings."

Damian considers the words, wondering how he could politely- at least he shames Alfred- remind his father that his grandfather has been around for hundreds of years. Staying at his peak through the usage of the Lazarus Pit, he has never been short of lovers.

And sometimes those lovers have given him children, many who aged and died naturally, as none has deemed worthy of the Lazarus. All except for one, the First Son, who has never needed the Pits but remained youthful and powerful on his own.

The perfect heir.

It's too bad he had abdicated long before Damian was even a thought.

"Grandfather has had many children, but Uncle Daniel is different. Special. He is the First Son."

"Capital letters," Todd cuts in, shaking his head. "It's never good when the League of Assiasans assigns capital letters. How strong is he?"

"He could easily best Grandfather and all under Grandfather's command," Damian replies, watching as the rest of the vigilantes grew uneasy by the information. It's good that they are wear of Uncle Daniel's power but they have nothing to fear of his wrath. "Uncle Daniel is a pacifist. He carries a protective core."

"A Al Ghul that a pacifist? I'll believe it when I see it." Drake droned as he was clipping on his utility belt. At once, Damian felt his body grew hot with rage. No matter what, it seemed Drake would always curse his family.

The way he says the family name drips with disrespect as if the other teen was saying a swear.

"My Uncle Daniel is a great man!" He shouts, gripping his sword so har his knuckles ache. Drake's face twists as if though he smelled something foul and the rage burning in Damian's chest spreads to his whole body.

He is just about to reach for his throwing knives when a familiar cold hand settles into his hair. "Aw thank you Little One. I love you too."

"Uncle Daniel!" Damian shouts excitably, forgetting the fool he was about to run his blades through. His uncle stands before him, the same darl night hair, warm blue eyes, and a crooked smile that had secretly comforted him in his youth.

"Where in the world did he come from!?" Damian hears one of Father's adopted brutes gasp but does not care to see who as his uncle quickly reels him in for a hug.

Hugging Uncle Daniel was like being wrapped in warm blankets in winter. He always ran rather cold, but it was lovely to be wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his protection.

It felt like nothing in the world could harm him from here.

"You seem well, Little One. Are you happy?" His uncle says. The delict of their native tongue is another comfort Damian can sink into.

"I am." He allows, snuggling his face against his stomach, as childish as it is. If only he could grow taller like his father.

"Wonderful. I'm so glad." His uncle then switches to English, ignoring all the weapons drawn and pointing at him from the Bats. Damian steps back to admire the man he wishes to grow into. "I'm terribly sorry for arriving so late, nephew. You must be tired. When is your bed time?"

"I do not have a bedtime." Damian scoffs. Uncle Daniel frowns, reaching into his chest to pull out a clipboard and a pen- he'll never get used to his uncle storing things within himself no matter how often he sees it. Damian is pretty sure he heard someone gag.

A soft click is heard as his uncle opens the pen and quickly scribbles something down. He is not tall enough to see what is written, but he can see clearly as day that his uncle selected the red ink of the muli-color pen he is using.

He only uses red when he is doing bad things. Damian breaks into a sweat. "What was that? Uncle what did you just write?"

"No bedtime. Tsk tsk." Uncle Daniel mutters, looking around the cave with disapproval. "No proper heating living space."

"Oh no! I do not live down here. This is merely the training grounds. We live upstairs" Damian quickly says, waving his hands frantically in the air as his uncle's unimpressed look. Curses, the auduit just began and already he got bad markings.

"Would you care for a tour? I shall not be going on patrol-"

"He forces you to fight crime? At your age?" Uncle barks, throwing a look of utter disgust at Father. It's the same one he gives Grandfather whenever the older man tries to raise child soldiers.

Even Damian had not been sent on any missions. His childhood had been intense training but nothing that was life-threatening.

"I volunteered to go!" He tries to defend Father, but his uncle only clicks his pen and scrambles more red ink on his paper.

Drat and Damian were actually enjoying living at the manor. He will likely have to say goodbye to it all and be moved to some house Uncle deemed more child-friendly.

"What is your diet here? Have you been taken to the doctor? Any form of therapy?" His uncle fires each question quickly, walking through Todd and Cain when they try to apprehend him without a glance.

His uncle is, and not to sound like the fools of his school, so cool.

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Jason deserves to be someone's no. 1 superhero.

(Art by Victioria Palomino)

Red Hood was many things for many people. A criminal, a nuisance, and a threat. Most treated him with disdain, and few tolerated him. But no one claimed to be a fan of him. Not in a sense Superman or Wonder Woman have fans.

You kept your opinion on the man strictly neutral, hoping you'll never find yourself in the same room as him, not out of hatred, but simply a sense of self-preservation.

Until one day, you find yourself unwillingly in the crossfire of Gotham's latest criminal and it's the day you meet your unlikely savior. He's no less imposing or terrifying even as he sets you on the pavement in one of the alleyways.

"I'm not going to bite off your head if that makes you so jumpy."

"Ah! I...uh...sorry. It's just that you're..."

"'S fine, I'm used to that."

At that moment you felt really scummy. There he was risking his life for you and you were acting like has rabies. As you watched him run towards the explosions you promised yourself that you'll thank him properly next time you see him.

That opportunity comes fairly soon. Every day in Gotham is a new threat, this time in the form of sentient crawling vines with razor-sharp thorns. One of them nicks your cheek and others would probably do much worse, but a few well-aimed bullets make them fall limply on the pavement. It's your red-hooded savior and he's sporting several deep gashes as well as a cracked mask.

He barks at you to run so you do, but you linger in the safe distance, hoping to catch one more glimpse of him. When all is said and done, you see a flash of his red hood ducking behind a garbage container. You carefully sidestep the fallen debris and find him sitting on the ground leaning against the wall, clutching his shoulder.

You realize it's not the best time to talk to him, that gets affirmed by the glare he shoots you from underneath the torn hood. The fear makes your heart thump and your tongue gets stuck to the roof of your mouth. Still, you step closer, slowly, ready to back away at any second, as if you're approaching a wild animal backed into a corner, and you might as well.

"Go away." He growls, teeth flashing from the crack in his mask and you visibly shiver. Despite your fear, you crouch right next to him and pull out a couple of bandaids you always have in your mind. With trembling hands, you start to bandage up the feared vigilante. You keep his face for last, just to ignore the intense unflinching stare that's burning into you the whole time.

"The hell are you doing?" He asks, without any bite this time.

You swallow the knot in your throat.

"I...I never got a chance to...thank you." You say, voice getting smaller and smaller with each word.

"Thank me?" He says incredulously.

You meet his gaze for the first time.

"Yes, for saving me."

He lets you finish your work without another word. When you mention the shoulder. He gets up and slams it against the wall, popping the bone back in the socket as you watch in horror. He doesn't even whimper. He thanks you for the bandages and in a moment he's gone again.

Later that night, Jason Todd is lying in bed in his safe base. Staring at the colorful bandaids covering his arm.

Meanwhile, you start to unconsciously pay more attention to this masked vigilante. Whenever you see him in a newspaper, you clip out the part, when you hear his name on TV you pull the volume up. You search his name on the internet, getting what's undoubtedly some really cool shots of him on his motorcycle. Yeah, he's really a badass, the killings and questionable morals notwithstanding.

You're getting more intrigued by the day. Who is he? What made him pick up the guns and the red half-face mask? What's his relation to Batman if he's wearing a version of his symbol on his chest? Does he admire him, or hate him? Is he aware of his reputation? Is he deluded into thinking everything he's doing is ultimately good, or is he brutally self-aware and just doesn't care? His morals are what intrigued you the most. You often wonder if violence is maybe sometimes the answer, considering how many times you and your close ones got hurt or traumatized by Gotham's villains.

You start to wear a black T-shirt with a red bat-like symbol on it. You don't flaunt it, but there is undeniable giddiness when you hold it in your hands, fresh out of transfer press. You had to make it yourself because there's no official Red Hood merch, shame really. Soon a mug and a bracelet follow.

Next time you meet Red Hood, you're the one who saves him. His bike is damaged, and he's running away from cops when you grab him by the hand and pull him to the place you work at. Thankfully, no one of your coworkers is there that day so you don't have to explain to them why there's a masked man armed to teeth in the breakroom. You offer him some tea and biscuits before the coast is clear and he can leave again.

Before he leaves, Red Hood compliments your t-shirt. You look down and realize it's the one you made. You have to duck behind the front desk to hide an explosion of blush on your face, listening to his quiet chuckles. For the rest of the day Red Hood is smiling.

You heard that he is in the neighborhood. You ponder it for a long time before you book it out of the door. When you find him, you stutteringly ask for an autograph. Red Hood stares at you as if you'd gone crazy. He takes the white sharpie and scribbles his name on your back. You take the pen from his limp hand and thank him with a beaming smile. It's then Jason realizes he has a real-life fan.

The next time he sees you, he asks only half-joking if you want to take a photo with him. Your eyes widen at that.

"Y-you're sure?? I don't want to bother..."

"Just look here."

He says as he bends down to put his face next to his. You're too flustered by his proximity to react fast enough as his phone flashes in your eyes. By means unknown to you, the photo is in your phone several hours later. You look like a moron. Wide-eyed, red-faced, and gaping into the camera, but you keep it. It's a selfie with your favorite Gotham knight, after all.

When he saves you this time, he escorts you all the way to the rooftop of your apartment building. Red Hood asks how are you gonna repay him this time. Teasingly backing you up against the wall with one hand pressed to the wall behind you. You're once again reminded how big he is, but this time it does not make you fearful, it makes you flustered. You duck under his arm and tell him to wait. You hand him a plastic container, and he raises a brow at you. You explain to him it's your homemade enchiladas. What you didn't know at the time is that you'll have a hungry vigilante waiting on the rooftop for his next lunch like a stray cat.

With time, the scary vigilante became what you dared to call a friend of yours. You eat together, you talk, sometimes you patch him up and in return, he gives extra care to make your neighborhood safe. You learn a lot about him in several months and yet, you've never seen his face.

It's the end of the year, and you haven't heard from Red Hood for some time. He must be busy. It's not like he owes you anything. He probably has a life outside of vigilante work. Still, you do miss him. You don't hear from him until that fateful fight with Barman. You barely hear the news reporter over the blood rushing in your ears as you watch Red Hood get slammed into through the window of a run-down factory. Without thinking it through, you rush to the location the news reporter mentioned.

You never saw Red Hood so...defeated. He was always so big in your eyes, bigger than life. And now he is slowly bleeding from the neck while shards of glass are littered around him, with Gotham's so-called hero standing over him. You shout you're not exactly sure what, but it makes the Dark Knight freeze. You don't even spare him a glance as you kneel over your hero. His mask is even more cracked than the first time you met him. You can see the black eye and the split lip, but it's the resignation in the healthy eye that makes you unreasonably angry.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!!!"

You shock yourself with the force of that angry roar. Batman takes a step back, arms held up in defeat. Eyes confused, searching but mostly...sad, that surprises you the most. You don't have time to dwell on it as you feel Red behind you trying to get up. Deciding you'll ignore the Bat indefinitely, you support the Hood with your weight. The rest is a blur, police escort you out of the scene, giving you a lecture about civilian safety you barely listen to.

He let him escape. Batman let Red Hood escape the scene. You heard him giving an explanation to the police, lying from under his black mask. You were more perplexed than ever by their relationship.

For the next few days, you barely sleep. Worried sick about Red Hood. He might as well be dead and you wouldn't even know. That thought brings tears to your eyes.

One snowy afternoon, you walk up the stairs from your apartment to the rooftop. You haven't been there for a long time, avoiding that place. Just so you don't have to wait for him, only for him to never come again. When you open the door, you almost pass out. He's there, on your rooftop, flesh and blood. His huge back is facing you, red hood back on.

"Red?" the inaudible croak of his name is carried away by the harsh wind, and yet, he turns around. Only this time he's not wearing a mask. There's a white streak in his hair, a jagged scar runs from his lip all the way to his hairline, and his eyes, unflinching, are fixed on you.

You have never seen such vibrant green.

[sarahisslytherin]

duty and honor.

cregan stark x tyrell!reader

summary: it has been decided. you are to wed the young lord stark. you know little of him or the north but will do your duty. this, however, does not release you from your worry of how the union will go or how you will settle into your role as lady of winterfell. luckily, cregan takes it upon himself to make you feel at home.

contains: fluff, people rooting for a bedding ceremony.

a/n: i am so in love with this man i need to be restrained.

word count: 2k

The carriage rocked on the road to Winterfell, your ocean blue gown ruffling as it did. You tried your best to ignore the wild beat of your heart in your chest, tried focusing instead on the growing pines that passed your window with increasing speed. Your mother sat at your side, a stoic presence that soothed you somehow. You took her hand in your own, and when she looked at you you didn’t have it in you to mask your utter fear. 

“You will be alright, child.” she sighed, bringing that same hand up to cup your cheek. “Lord Stark is a good man. I know you will be far from all that you know, but surely you will grow to love your new home as well as your betrothed.”

When you finally came to a halt outside its gates, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. You clutched your mother’s hand like a frightened babe when they drew open. The courtyard was full of expectant faces you knew you would eventually commit to memory. The townspeople were out and about, young rosy-cheeked girls squealing with delight as they spotted your carriage. Their soon-to-be Lady was within it, and you could only hope when the time came that you would not fall short of their expectations. They watched keenly as you stopped before them one final time, and you prepared to be devoured by hungry, prying eyes. You tugged on the fur lining of your cloak as your mother stepped down from the carriage. You quickly followed suit.

Indeed, you could feel their glares cutting clean through you. You had known enough ladies and lords to know they were searching for faults and virtues to remark upon as soon as you were out of earshot, but there were so many faces you could not focus on a single one. 

Instead your gaze swiftly fell upon the mountain of a man that was the young Lord Stark. His chestnut locks fell in such a manner that they delicately framed a rather rugged face, on which a scowl seemed to be permanently etched. But this was to be expected. It was common knowledge that smiles were rare amongst Northmen. Though winter was still months away, he was already cloaked head to toe in furs, an uncommonly large sword strapped across the broad expanse of his back. 

“Lady Y/N, welcome to Winterfell.” he rasped, his voice quite gravelly and masculine for so young a man. You offered him a small curtsy in return, but couldn’t quite muster up the agreeable smile your mother had asked you to perfect on the way here. You tried your best not to gawk as you took in the ancient castle, trailing behind Lord Stark as he strode through Winterfell’s stony halls. The biting cold of the north left your bones as you approached the hearth in the Great Hall. 

You listened as your mother exchanged pleasantries with members of Lord Stark’s court, though your eyes did not leave the dancing flames and glowing embers.

“You’re a long way from Highgarden.” he said as he came to stand beside you. His accent was harsh, the vowels flat and words clipped, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t find it somewhat pleasant to your ear.

You turned to regard him. Gods, he was beautiful. The fire cast his features in a golden hue, the color returning to his cheeks. He was a sight to behold, powerful and perhaps even fearsome, but in this moment so soft. You wondered what your future with him would look like. Would he take a liking to you? Would he hate you? When you eventually gave him children, would they take after their mother or father? Would it be a life worth living?

“Yes, my Lord.” you sighed, rubbing your hands up and down your arms. “A long way indeed.”

The muted ivory of your gown made you appear one with the snow of the Godswood. Your hair was unbound, save for the intricate braiding around the crown of your head. Only the moon’s and torches’ light showed you the way to the weirwood tree. Your father swiftly came to your side, looping your arm in his. He offered you a gentle caress along your icy cheek, a solemn look about his face as if watching a spring rose being sacrificed to the unforgiving cold of winter. Wordlessly, you began to walk.

Despite the North’s fame for brutal winters and even more brutal people, you couldn’t help but marvel at the quiet beauty of the Godswood. So still was it, that you could have sworn you felt its ancientness in your bones, could feel every ring of age around each tree stump. Snowflakes danced on their way down, coming to land upon strands of your hair. It was then that you saw him before the weirwood, his lips drawn into a thin line. He was covered in dark furs and a cloak, his hands clasped behind his straightened back. 

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” The words were spoken by a family ward. 

“Y/N of the House Tyrell.” your father replied. “She comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” 

You watched as Lord Stark approached, towering over you. You hoped you would grow accustomed to it, to him. You held your breath when he spoke. “Cregan of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.” 

You dared to look up, to meet his gaze. You found nothing but gentleness in them. “Who gives her?” Your father spoke his name. And now the ward asked you the question. 

“Lady Y/N, will you take this man?”

You could feel the overbearing weight of watchful eyes, of held breaths and keen ears. But Cregan’s eyes hadn’t left yours, determined to hold your gaze. You could have sworn a flicker of joy shone in them when you gasped out. 

“I take this man.”

Cregan offered you a shy curl of his lips, then took your hands in his. You noted that they were far smaller in comparison to his weathered hands as he led you to the trunk of the weirwood tree. Its face provided you with some strange comfort. Perhaps the gods would heed your prayers. Perhaps they were watching over you as you both knelt before the trunk. Silence fell upon the Godswood as the wedding party prayed. No sooner had the moment passed that you and your now husband rose to your feet. Cregan’s large hands reached around you to gingerly remove your cloak, a golden Tyrell rose embroidered upon it by your mother. 

You shivered as the cold crept into your body, but were swiftly covered once again, this time in a Stark cloak, the wolf sigil stitched boldly enough for all to see. And just like that, it was done.

It was the first time you had seen him smile, truly smile, since you had arrived at Winterfell. From where you sat at his side on the dais, the entirety of the Great Hall stretched out before you. Jovial music filled the hall, and you watched the merry faces of Cregan’s men as they helped themselves to the wedding feast. Their chatter echoed on the stone walls, and for the first time since you had left Highgarden, you felt somewhat at home.

“Has Winterfell begun to grow on you, wife?” Cregan’s husky voice came from your left. When you turned to meet him he was wearing a boyish smirk. He was playing. You didn’t suspect the Wolf of the North had it in him.

“Well, it may be a while longer before that happens.” you sheepishly admitted, struggling to hold his intense gaze. “But I know I will come to love it.”

“Aye.” he said. “I know it will never be your true home, but I promise you I will do all in my power to make it the next best thing.” He placed his large hand atop your own, taking your palm and squeezing it gingerly. You were thankful for the gesture, and couldn’t ignore the flush of your cheeks that resulted from it.

“You’re timid.” he observed, only causing you further embarrassment. “It’s quite charming.”

“You may very well be the only person who finds it to be so. Even back home my soft temper has been known to irritate others. Most times people can barely hear me when I speak. I find it easier to keep to myself and observe.” you confessed. “I truly must grow a thicker skin if I am to survive amongst the wolves.”

“You won’t survive.” Cregan stated matter of factly. You whipped your head toward him with wide eyes at that, not prepared for what he would say next. “You will thrive.”

You felt your muscles loosen up once again, offering him an incredulous laugh.

“I am perfectly serious, my Lady.” he went on. “You will rule the North at my side.”

“I hardly think I am equipped to rule such an – unruly people, my Lord.” you tried to mask the nervous tremble of your hand as you brought your wine to your lips.

“Cregan.” he rasped. “Call me Cregan.” You nodded, eyes crinkling above a smile. He leaned in, as if he were about to tell you a most precious secret. “Sometimes all a beast truly needs is the touch of a gentle hand.” 

You backed away to meet his eyes. They held nothing but truth in them. Nothing but honor. But your moment was soon ended by the clamor of the wedding party. The men began to holler, whooping and howling in unison. “Time for the bedding!”

You had anticipated this, and you now braced yourself for the unpleasant experience of being hauled to a bed with Cregan. You had always known your first time would be like this, and though you loathed the idea, you could not alter tradition. It was a surprise to you when Cregan rose from his chair, planting his large hands on the dinner table before he spoke.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, but there will be no bedding ceremony tonight.” he bellowed out through the hall in a voice so commanding it was an effort not to shrink in his presence. “And I won’t hear any complaints about it. It’s too lovely an occasion to taint with a brawl.”

The men did their best to mask their disappointed groans as they returned to their dinner. You weren’t quite sure what had prompted Cregan to make such a decision. Did he not like you the way you had hoped? Perhaps he thought you fit to rule by him, to be a figurehead, but not someone he could ever desire in earnest. He must have read the emotions as they crossed your face, because he quickly took his seat beside you again. 

“Are you well, my Lady?” he asked. You merely nodded in response. He gently took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your gaze towards his. “When you wish it to happen it will be just the two of us, husband and wife. No prying eyes or ears.”

Warmth bloomed in your heart at the words. It was as if he had quieted the growing storm in your mind with only the touch of a hand. A gentle hand.

“You are a man of honor, Cregan.” you said resolutely.

He only smiled in return as he brought you in closer, finally pressing his lips to yours. The touch sent sparks down your spine. It was in that moment you knew that spark would soon fan into a flame a thousand northern winds could not snuff out.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @spxllcxstxr @lovemesomevesey @shemisseshome @themissgreen24-blog @siriusement @kingdomzeldaquest @gayfordabae @slayis4ever

[pencilpat]

Horrible evil comic that pained my hands </3

I missed 'draw your faves with your disability' month by a while, but I hope you'll still accept this snippet. Some context and thoughts below the cut if you're curious!

I will project my disabilities onto anyone, but Soldier is the first character I've so heavily headcannoned as d/Deaf. The way he speaks so loud at all times, and he misunderstands the things people say to him as though hearing them wrong, and the way he's viewed as stupid for doing so, it reminds me of being in school as a HoH person. It's hard to explain to someone who hasn't experienced it. Think the 'so it ain't me noggin it's me peepers' Simpsons clip. He was also in near a war, and many soldiers lost hearing from bombs and the constant gunfire.

Pyro's mask would make it very hard to sign considering the lack of expressions to read equates to a huge loss of grammar and sentence structure. Engie designed an LED screen that replaced the material in the eyeholes, and they have a few default expressions to use for emoting, including ? for a question , ^^ for happiness and positive emotion, ◡◡ for sadness or negative emotion, etc. It responds to the actual expression Pyro is making inside the mask!

[userpeggycarter]

hi! someone requested me to do a tutorial based on this gifset!

this tutorial requires an intermediate knowledge of gifmaking. i won’t teach you how to do gifs from scratch, there are other tutorials for that out there.

[tutorial under the cut]

THE BASICS

AN INTRODUCTION

first off, the gifset in question is based on this gifset by @/eddiediaaz and i got permission from them to explain the process. i won’t be sharing the template because it’s a near replica of theirs (that isn’t shared to the public) and i don’t feel comfortable doing so, but you can recreate it by yourself just like i did!

also, ESL, so please pardon any mistakes.

THE FONT

Circular ST (Medium & Black). download it here & here.

CLIPPING MASKS

clipping masks are the way i put images and gifs inside of shapes. i used that method in the first and second gif of the Spotify gifset as you can see here. what does a clipping mask do? basically, it links two or more layers together in a way it follows the “shape” of your base layer. ie, everything that is shown follows the “shape” of your main layer and nothing more. your base layer can be anything: a shape, an image, a gif, a text, an adjustment layer, really everything. let’s see an example:

CLIPPING MASKS & SHAPES

the original image (Gun 'n' Roses logo) is intact, as in, it’s not cut like a circle, something that cannot be undone. instead, everything outside the limits of the blue circle is just hidden. if i delete the base layer (the circle layer), the original image will appear as it originally is, as an rectangle. talking about layers, let’s see my layers panel (some things are in Portuguese, but i think you can understand):

notice the little arrow pointing downwards to the “circle” layer. that is the clipping mask symbol. the base layer always needs to be below what is being clipped. if the base layer is deleted, the chain is broken and every layer clipped will now act independently and have its original shape. you can have as many clipped layers as you want. you can also have multiple chains going on in a .psd, each one with its own base layer. to clip a layer, you just need to press ctrl+alt+G or cmd+option+G while having the layer you want to clip selected (NOT your base layer). or, you can go to LAYER > CREATE CLIPPING MASK.

CLIPPING MASKS & TEXT

let’s see the same example, but with text instead:

A TIP

because adjustment layers are clippable, you can completely gif by using clipping masks. this is very useful when you have more than one gif inside a canvas and don’t want an adjustment layer to affect everything besides a certain layer/element.

let’s take my first gif of the Spotify gifset as an example.

the circle is the base layer. the “Carol smiling” layer is my gif converted to a smart filter. above that “Carol smiling” layer, there is a black and white gradient map and two color fills of white so i can achieve the coloring you see. all those layers are clipping onto the circle layer, making my now b&w gif have the shape of a small circle as well. those layers are in a folder in the .psd of my first gif, so i don’t have multiple files sitting on my PC to assemble just one gif. i could have giffed that small gif separately and pasted it onto my canvas as well, but i like to do this way so i can adjust everything i want in real time instead of redoing a gif over and over every time i want to change something.

HOW TO MAKE EACH GIF

all gifs are 540x540px.

THE FIRST GIF

the first gif has 6 elements. the elements are: a big gif serving as a background (a close-up of Carol), a smaller gif inside a circle (a b&w gif of Carol smiling) as a profile picture and four static images for the featured artists. i giffed as i normally do (loaded screencaps, resized the gif, sharpened the gif, etc) for my background gif. to achieve the coloring, i’ve added a gradient map (layer > new adjustment layer > gradient map) purple to pink. to the profile picture, i made a 160x160px circle in the top left corner. the color of it doesn’t matter. the next step is a matter of taste: i giffed the smaller gif in the same .psd thanks to clipping masks that i explained earlier, but you can do it in a separate canvas too. for the featured artists, i made four circles with 98x98px each. for the images, i had to check Spotify for their selected PFPs. after that, i googled “[band/artist] spotify” to find the images. the PFP of bands and artists in the Spotify app are displayed in black and white, so you might have to make them b&w if you happen to find them only in color. to make the artists PFPs pop a bit more, i transformed them into smart filters and added a bit of sharpening to them (intensity 10 x radius 10). you can adjust the colors and the brightness if you want, too. the sizes of the texts in the gif are: 58px (username), 20px (top artists of the month), 15px (name of the artists), 12px (only visible to you + show all + profile) and 11px (following and follower numbers).

SECOND GIF

for the chart, i created a black rectangle (490x308px) that i set its blending mode to lighten (thus making it transparent) and i added an internal white stroke. i added the text and the little squares next to the top 6 numbers. the font sizes are: 17px (top tracks this month), 11px (only visible to you), 14px (song title, show all, top 6 numbers), 13px (artist/band, album title, length of the song). i added the album covers — that i made b&w — by clipping images onto 32x32px squares. for the coloring, i added a gradient map (dark purple > light purple).

THIRD GIF

there are three types of playlists in this gif: a Spotify original playlist, a playlist made by a user and a Mix. you don’t have to follow this formula if you don’t want to, but in the case you do, here’s how i did it: browse Spotify for an original playlist of theirs. chances are, if you google the playlist’s name, you can find its cover on Google Images. at least, i found the “All Out 80s” cover that i used in my gifset. you can also create your own. for the user playlist, just pick four songs and find their (album) covers, also on Google. create a square canvas on Photoshop and make four squares, each in one quadrant of the canvas. paste your images onto your canvas and clip the images to each square. then, add a gradient map (black + whatever color you want) to all those images and title your playlist (font size: ). save that collage as a PNG and load to your gif canvas or merge all the layers+transform into a smart filter and drag the smart filter layer onto your gif canvas. now, the trickiest one. while you can invent your own Mix, i wanted to use a real one, but i had no idea on how to find them. thanks to reddit, i discovered that, if you search “made for you” on Spotify, you will find their Mixes! some of them are very whacky and specific! i just picked the Mix that made the most sense for Carol from that (gigantic) list. before doing the next step, i would advise you to google the name of the Mix you picked to see if you are able to find the cover of it with good quality. i wasn’t able to find mine (Karaoke  Mix), so i just screenshotted my Spotify app, pasted that screenshot into Photoshop and cut the Mix cover and pasted that onto my canvas. the quality wasn’t great, so i transformed the cover into a smart filter, added a bit of gaussian blur and then sharpened it (intensity 10 x radius 10). the color wasn’t what i wanted either, so i used Hue/Saturation to change the hue. because the original image for the Mix was smaller than i wanted and i stretched it to make it bigger, the quality of the text and the Spotify logo was botched. i painted over the Mix cover and created a text with the font i linked earlier to replace its now pixelated title. i also painted over the little Spotify logo, found a logo in the internet and pasted over the Mix cover about the same size of the original logo. to achieve the “3D effect” of the gif, i made my b&w gif, the base. then, i duplicated all layers and added a gradient map (black > pink) and merged all the layers of that duplicate. i made a second replica of my gif, now with a different gradient map (black > blue). i set both replicas to the ligthen blending mode. you will notice that the replicas will "disappear" and only the original b&w gif will remain. if you move the replicas a bit, that colored border will appear. this doesn't work much in very bright gifs without a lot of dark areas, btw.

FOURTH GIF

this gif used an altered (by me) version of this template. (i changed the fonts to match the rest of the gifset, too.) for the color text effect, you will have to gif with the timeline bar. take your gif’s length and do the math to find how many frames are ⅓ of it. take your lyrics’ layer and cut it into three equal parts or close to it by using the scissors icon in the timeline panel. in each third, change the color of just one line, line by line. when you play your gif, the colors of the lyrics will change like in Karaoke. you can do the same thing with frames iirc, though. i explained the timeline method because that’s the one i used in this gifset and use in general gif making. for the coloring, i added a gradient map. to make the colors pop a bit more, i add two gradient maps: the first one is in black and white, the other is in color. that adds depth to the blacks and darker colors of the gif.

FIFTH GIF

like in the Top Playlists gif, i wanted for my Daylist to be real as well. to achieve that, i listened to my Carol Danvers companion playlist (that you can listen here) for a long time until my Daylist refreshed itself. (Daylists refresh in certain times of the day — don't worry, Spotify will tell you when.) then, i just copied what it told me — the title and the genres i listened to generate such a Daylist, plus the genres i should check it out. you can invent your own Daylist if you want, but because it is generated by AI, i find very difficult to mimic its crazy titles, but you can try! you can also search in the web for other people’s Daylists if you want, but usually people don’t tell you what they listened to to get those playlists and nor what was recommended for them to listen to and i, at least, find that information important for the gifset. be aware that Daylists aren't available for every country yet (like in mine), but i found a way to work around that. the browser Opera GX offers a free "VPN" — not exactly a VPN, but it works close enough — so you can set your location to the US and listen to in-browser Spotify. i recommend not log into Tumblr while using Opera's VPN as there is a myth (that could easily be true!) that Tumblr terminates people's accounts that use a VPN. font sizes: 43px (daylist title), 13px (text), 12px ("daylist" & "made for"). for the flare effect, i searched for flare overlays on YouTube and downloaded one of those videos with 4K Video Downloader, a free software. i loaded the overlay into Photoshop and added a gradient map (purple > pink) over it, thus changing its color. i pasted the overlay onto my b&w gif and set its blending mode to screen. voila!

that's it! i hope you liked it and that i was able to express myself well. if you have any questions, feel free to contact me, i love helping people about their gifmaking questions! 💖

[b0xerdancer-writes]

Our Little Secret

Eris x Azriel's Twin! Reader

Summary: Azriel and his sister have always been opposites, she weaved light he bent shadows, he liked the dark and cold, she lived for warmth and light. That led her to Eris Vanserra. The two began secret but not so secret meetups that eventually blossoms into more.

Warnings: 18+, implied semi-graphic smut but not full scenes, attempted murder, injuries, blood, war, death, pregnancy, depression and self-doubt.

Word Count: 8,995

Notes: Shorter but sweet hope everyone enjoys some soft Eris!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were several pros and cons to being Eris’s mate and Azriel’s twin sister.

Pros included the ability to claim visits to Autumn as part of my spy job now that we were in an alliance with them as Eris began ascending the throne and needed assistance in weeding out the vermin that had invaded his fathers court. 

Cons included that my brother absolutely hated the male, so any interactions we had were either secret or strictly professional in nature with others like my family around us. 

However when the tides had turned after a rather eventful week tucked away in the halls of The Forest House, after an advisor had hired an assassin to try and take out Eris, neither Eris or I were prepared for the aftermath.

My brother was able to bend the shadows to his whim, he had always shrunk into the shadows and found peace in them after our half brothers had burned his hands. I however, was the opposite. My brothers and father had clipped my wings from birth, I would and have never known the call of the wind. Where my brother found comfort in the shadows I found my comfort in those small warm rays of light that would peek into our basement cell from the small barred window  we were too short to reach. My brother had learned to weave the shadows to his whim, I had done the opposite and learned to weave the light to mine. 

Where my brother hated and despised the now High Lord of the Autumn Court, I had come to love and cherish him. Especially when our spontaneous meetings became a regularly scheduled secret. 

Eris and I had started at a dance, his piercing eyes had found mine as I stood on the dias with my brothers; he had approached with an eerily attractive atmosphere around him as he stalked up to me, he stood a step below me as he bowed and offered his hand out for a dance. Together we had taken the ball by storm all the onlookers had been mesmerized by the passion and fierceness in which Eris and I brought forward, we had both intrigued the other from the second we both came to an abrupt stop with the end of the pounding, loud, and energetic music and our chests were heaving as we panted trying to catch our breath. 

That night had ignited something between us because later that same night he had sought me with the intention of making small chat to get closer, he had approached me with a champagne flute but by the end of it we had defected from the rest of the party and found ourselves rutting against each other in an empty conference room. That would be the first of many times we would end up hidden away in a backroom slotted against each other, just happy to have someone who’s passion matched our own. 

It had simply become a normal thing for us, every high lords meeting and every alliance talk, we would wind up in each other without fail. As meetings continued his mask began to fall away and after we had both come undone and beads of sweat had started to form between us he would confess his fears or the things that had troubled him, a recent beating from Beron here or nerves from the threat of war looming over our heads. 

When the war did come to a head, I had been using light to mask parts of our armies, rendering them invisible to Hybern and his own army; we ultimately prevailed but not without our own amount of casualties, Eris had come rushing towards the medical tents Beron tossed over the hind quarters of his horse. I had been sitting with Azriel and the rest of the inner circle, a healer stitching a spot on my arm where a sword had gone  a little too deep for me to be comfortable with and wasn't healing quick enough for the healers to be comfortable with, when we heard the commotion. I could hear Eris screaming and the second the nurse cut the thread from my arm I was out of the tent, Eris was soaked in blood and trying to pull Beron off the back of his horse; I could hear the grief in his voice as much as the panic was obvious on his face, I helped Eris pull him down and a healer met us halfway to the tent.  Just as Beron and the healer made it through the curtain Eris had dropped to his knees, adrenaline finally wearing off, he started crying so I dropped to my knees beside him and pulled him tight against me. 

Once his sobs started to garner attention I motioned for him to stand and ushered him out of the way of the crowds into my tent. I pulled him into my chest, running my fingers through his hair while his sobs became hoarse and weak; the metallic smell of his father’s blood clung to him and I slowly stripped him from the stained garments, I grabbed the cloth that was draped over the edge of the small bowl filled with water for washing sat and began cleaning where the smears of blood lingered on his skin. As I dabbed at the blood his sniffling stopped and he stared down at where I kneeled to sponge at a spot on his hip, I looked up at him with a sad smile and his head dropped to let his hair curtain his face.

With one hand tucked into my hair he pulled me tight against his thigh and muttered a small barely audible “Thank you.” 

Once I had finished cleaning him he sat on the edge of my bed, a small swirl of light nudged at his hands and he smiled as he let it caress him like how one of his hounds would have, as I was slipping out of my own blood stained clothing one of my light beams presented me with clothing from Eris’s own tent.  He took them from the small beam with a smile and slipped on the comfortable night clothing, I slipped into my own comfortable sleeping clothes and climbed onto the bed beside him. He buried himself into my chest and curled around me, I wrapped one wing over the top of us and we laid there for a few minutes before he gave out a shaky breath. He began to tell me how he had found Beron and he fully believed it was his fault the older male had been injured, Eris had left his position in the Autumn Court squadron to meet with Helion and the rest of us on the opposite side of the battlefield, leaving Beron exposed. Apparently somehow Beron and his brothers had been ambushed, the rest of his remaining brothers were dead but Beron was unconscious and breathing; as he moved to check Beron’s wounds he had realized the older male was beginning to bleed out and hauled him up to the horse, someone managing to get him on the beast. 

I soothed him, telling him it wasn’t his fault, that the mother had a sick sense of karma; and that was all this was, karma, for his actions towards Eris and his family. We fell asleep an hour or so later, Eris’s soft snores lulling me into my own sleep. It was around midnight when I felt the bed shift, the smell in my tent stung my nose: a sharp Cinnamon and smoke mixed with a spice that reminded me of the autumn court alcohol Eris had given me after one of our usual meetups. It was Eris’s comforting scent amplified a hundred times over, it was only when my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I saw Eris sat up elbows on his knees and hunched over that I realized the stinging was caused by a surplus of magic in the air.

“He’s dead” Was all Eris mumbled as he looked back over his shoulder at me.

Only then did I get a good look at him, his ears seemed more pointed, his eyes more predatorial and enticing, every detail about him that I had noticed before was amplified; from the red of his hair to the freckles that littered the bridge of his nose, I felt myself fall more in love with him with every detail I took in. 

“Don’t look at me like that starlight.” A low growl from his voice had goosebumps growing over my skin and every hair standing on end all at the same time.

I couldn't even mumble an apology to the newly made high lord before his eyes widened and his scent thickened with the added addition of his arousal. In a split second he had pounced on me, his lips finding their home on my neck. We spent the rest of the night lost in eachother, he was clearly rougher and more feral with the newly found energy and stamina that had come with becoming a high lord. 

Our bond had only grown from there, after the war was over he had asked Rhys for help in discovering which of those in his court wanted his downfall or were members of the illegal markets his father had let the Autumn Court become home to. The Autumn Court was bright at all times of the day, between the actual sun in the day and the fireflies and bonfires that lit up the night, I had been sent to act as Emissary and spy.  It had started as miniscule tasks like tracking down and destroying supply carts carrying black market goods or stalking through the castle under my invisible illusion to listen in on private conversations that could have been conspiratorial in nature. It was one of these overheard conversations that sent me rushing to Eris’s room, heart pounding so rapidly I felt it in the back of my throat.

It was late in the evening, Eris would have retired from the throne room or his study and would have been in his private chambers getting ready to wind down for the night, I slipped from the perch where I had heard the alarming news and found the faintest crack of light under Eris’s door; the faintest amount I needed leaked from the door as the lights in the hall began to dim, much like how my brother used the shadows to transport him around I used the light to step silently into Eris’s chambers. The fireplace, the thing illuminating the room so brightly, crackled softly and I took the faintest step forward towards Eris.

He turned quickly, dressed only in a pair of loose trousers with his hair half up and cascading over his shoulders; he had grown it out since becoming high lord. “Starlight? What's wrong, why do you look so panicked? What did you hear?”

“Eris! You have got to be wary! I heard two of the advisors conspiring together to assassinate you! They spoke not of when it was planned but it is coming!”  I took a few steps towards him reaching out to grasp at his upper arm, an attempt to convey my desperation to him.

“Thank you Starlight, but remember they know not of your spying capabilities, I have no evidence against them yet. We will have to wait for the assassin before we can condemn those males.” He ran one hand across my cheek, pulling me tightly to him with a dark longing in his eyes.

“Eris I-“ he cut me off before I could continue, his eyes sparkled with that same dark look.

“Look Starlight, I can handle myself but if it would please you and make you feel better about the situation then stay beside me tonight, watch over and protect me darling.” His voice was a soothing melody in my ears, lulling me into a false sense of security with the ever present weight of the assassin hanging above us.

“Please…” I mumbled and buried my head in his chest.

“Of course starlight” he mumbled into my head as he planted a small kiss into my hair.

He curled up in bed and I curled up on the loveseat tucked into the corner of the room with my illusion dusted over me; thankfully the night was uneventful and in the early hours I climbed into the bed beside Eris who wrapped his arm around me in a groggy fog.

After a week the threat had yet to be seen and Eris’s schedule had seemed to become busier, leaving him rarely alone with anyone or even by himself until the very end of the day.  My duties as emissary had been paused by Eris himself as he noticed I had become overly exhausted and was becoming increasingly sicker as the days continued, I had fallen asleep in meetings or even had to dismiss myself from some of them due to nausea. 

“Until you are cleared by my appointed healer,” Eris had firmly told me, “I’ll be pausing your duties as emissary here.”

I had grumbled but agreed to schedule an appointment with the healer that afternoon to appease him and be allowed to continue with my job. The halls were quiet in the staff wing, most of the servants would be spread out across the rest of the manor at this time, preparing for dinner or guest rooms, or just general cleaning. I knocked softly on the healers office door, a greeting ushered me in from the other side.

Inside was a young eccentric male that reminded me of Helion in a way, he ushered me to sit in a padded seat across from him. Eris had written to him with his concerns about my health and the male asked me if I had any concerns of my own. I just agreed to what Eris had identified with a grumble and he moved on with the exam.

“How long has this been occurring?” The male's hands glowed a faint green as he ran his hands around my body several inches above my skin.

“It’s progressed since the Last night of the war, at first I just assumed it was an after effect of the fae bane exposure.” I was uncomfortable with the males' closeness to me and shifted in my seat.

He nodded and continued his examination, it was rather uneventful as he checked through multiple things. 

“Its a long shot but there's one more thing I’d like to check if thats okay?” He asked me with a shrug.

“Yeah why not, that way Eris will be satisfied and I can get back to my duties” I shrugged back at him.

His hands changed from that green glow to a pink glow and his eyes widened, a smile grew on his face. “Congratulations. It seems like my long shot guess was correct.”

He turned from me and back to a small pad of parchment and scribbled a few things down on it before handing it to me, my fave paled as I read the care plan ahead of me.

“I’d like to schedule a week from now to follow up with everything, you will still be in this court correct?” I nodded and he scribbled on another piece of parchment. “Then I'll see you at the same time in a week!” He handed me the second parchment with the next appointment scheduled on it.

The walk back to my chambers had begun as quiet,  the setting sun outside the windows a tell of the hours spent in the healers office. The parchment folded up in my pocket a heavy weight as I thought how to tell Eris the news; lost in my thoughts I had taken a wrong turn and ended up in Eris’s private wing, an indication of where my mind was at and whose company it sought out for my distress, except something felt off in the wing as I was several halls from Eris’s room but a foreign sour scent lingered at the edges of the air. Had I not been a trained spy the change in scent wouldn’t have alarmed me but I knew Eris’s scent too well, knew how it both soured when he was upset and how it could be a breath of fresh air when he was in a happy mood, and I knew when someone was trying to hide their scent. 

I felt the muscles in my back around the deep scars twitch like they never had before, like I had watched them do when my brother's wings flared. An unease screamed at me and that familiar sense of dread rose in my throat, I tried to swallow it back but a loud shattering noise sent me down the hall at a full sprint. The halls were dark and I was unable to Lightstep into Eris’s room, I rounded a corner to find the door to his room cracked open and I threw it open to find Eris fighting off a bane laced dagger from his throat. My intrusion on their fight was enough of a distraction to gove Eris a one up by shoving the dagger away and throwing the unidentified male off of him, the make retailiated just as quickly sinking the dagger into Eris’s side as borh were scrambling up from the floor. I screamed as I watched Eris howl in pain and collapse on the floor, the intruding male moved towards the windows; there was enough light in the room for me to lightstep right behind him and sink the twin sister dagger of Truthteller into his neck, the adrenaline in my system was enough for me to decapitate the male. I didnt care if it would have looked better to bring him to the dungeons, I had overheard that conversation and knew who had conspired against my Eris. 

Once the head hit the ground I turned to Eris who was holding the dagger and his side with shallow breaths, with blood pounding in my ears and tears beginning to well up I dropped to my knees to find him barely conscious.

I pulled his head into my lap and cried over him begging him to stay with me, his faint voice tried to soothe me but the crack in his voice was enough for me to realize I very well could lose him tonight. 

“You have to stay with me Eris, you have to! You cant leave me like this Eris! I need you!” I sobbed into his slowly rising and falling chest.

One of his hands found its way into my hair as a soothing gesture. “You’ll be okay Starlight.” 

It broke me even more and I shook my head, tears rapidly cascading down my face. “No! I wouldn't be! You can't leave me like this Eris! You aren't allowed to die here! I’m pregnant Eris! Do you hear me! You can’t die, you have to be here for me and the babe!”

I felt Eris stiffen, his grasp in my hair tightening. “Your-“ I nodded and he smiled softly but his breathing became even shallower. 

I felt his grasp loosen and drop from my hair, my head shot up only to watch his eyes roll back in his head. I screamed and called his name and when no response came I was hauling him into my arms. Drawing every ounce of power I could spare I folded and weaved the light around us while screaming for Rhys in my mind. He answered almost immediately and I let him see what had happened just as I felt the weave of light complete and I was reappearing in my home court, I was greeted by my brothers and Madja who ushered us into a room with a bed they had me lay him on. I was pulled out of the room into the living room by Rhys and Azriel, my twin wrapping his wings around me as I sobbed into his chest.

I had cried myself to sleep in Azriel’s arms but was awoken by a sudden wave of nausea that had me pulling myself away from him and into the kitchen  where I found myself expelling what lunch I managed to eat before the appointment earlier today. Azriel was behind me pulling my hair farther out of the way for me and he rubbed my back softly, a soothing gesture.

“You alright?” His voice was a quiet whisper as the house was in a quiet slumber except for the occasional noise of Madja doing something in Eris’s room.

I nodded and slid my hand into my pocket handing him the folded pieces of paper. He read over them as I rinsed my mouth out with water from the sink and spit it back out. 

“By the mother.” He cursed “You're pregnant?” He looked at me quizzically and I nodded toeing my hair into a half up bun in case another wave of nausea hit me. 

“Yeah.” I mumbled, throat hoarse.

“It's his isn't it?” A look of sadness and pity crossed his face, a sorrow deep in his eyes. I nodded again.

“How long?” He asked, his voice cracked.

“Me and Eris? Since the first ball we met. The babe? Conceived the night he became high lord. I started getting sick shortly after that.” My own voice cracked as I fought back tears.

“Does he know?” He sat the papers on the counter and extended an arm out to me, I placed my hand in his.

“I told him right before he passed out, I told him it was why he had to pull through.” A sob broke through my lips, and Azriel pulled me into him. 

I broke down sobbing into his chest, he wrapped his wings around us until Rhys clearing his throat broke through the air. Azriel pulled me back by the shoulders and wiped the tears from my face, Rhys shifted awkwardly on his feet in the doorway clearly having heard and seen our exchange. 

“We’ll talk about this later, okay Starlight?”  His voice was soft as I nodded.

We both turned to Rhys who joined our little circle, He took my hand in his as he spoke. “Madja managed to stitch up his wound and said he's stable but still unconscious while his body tries to heal itself, she managed to flush the bane out of his system but it weakened him enough his healing delayed and he lost a lot of blood. She doesn't know how long he will be out but you can go in there now with him if you want.” He pulled me into a tight hug  and I thanked him.

I slipped into the room where Madja was bottling up a few potions for Eris, she gave me a small smile and a nod. 

I rested one hand on her shoulder the other on my stomach and leaned back against the table she was working on. “Thank you Madja, for saving him for us.” 

She nodded her accent heavy as she spoke to me. “You care very deeply for him, it's a good quality to have to love that purely. Your brothers may not recognize why you care but they understand your emotions, It's why Rhys had no restraint in summoning me to work on the High Lord you care for.” 

I smiled at her. “Yeah, I'm not gonna lie to you Madja, I think he's my mate. He's always just had an allure that called me to him, since the first time we met we just clicked like a puzzle piece. When I saw him on the floor there, something so deep in my chest I didn't know it could exist screamed and throbbed with a red hot glowing pain. I think I’ve always just known we were mates, in my adrenaline and panic I think the bond finally snapped but I was too overwhelmed and worried to really process everything going on.”

She smiled and nodded at me. “A good bond doesn't need to ring true, like Rhysand told you he simply looked at Feyre and knew. You simply know what he is to you and that is fine, it doesn't have to be a grand realization.” 

“Thank you, Madja.” I gave her a soft smile and she pushed a small bottle into my hand.

I looked at her quizzically as she smirked. “For the nausea the babe causes.” 

A blush rapidly grew on my face and my eyes widened. “How did you?”

A sparkle glistened in her eyes, she had always been a grandmother to the entire inner circle. “Girl, i’ve been treating you since you and Azriel joined Rhys here, I know your scent and any good healer knows what a babe does to a female's scent.  It was entirely too easy to scent it on you for me, hopefully that helps with any and all nausea you have. Just one drop of the vial into any drink you have once a day, it's tasteless so it should mix well with anything.” 

“Thank you again Madja. Have a goodnight.” She smiled and nodded at me and slipped out the door. 

I turned my attention to the shirtless male in the bed, white bandages wrapped around the lower half of his torso and his breath was a steady rise and fall of his chest, no longer weak and shallow. He laid on his uninjured side with his loose bangs falling in his face, I leaned on the bed to move them out of the way when one of his hands tightened on my wrist and he mumbled something I couldn't make out; but I knew Eris he had done this many times when I’d return from the bathroom to crawl back into bed with him. I smiled softly and kicked off my boots then curled up beside him, he wrapped his arm  tightly around my waist while I played with the loose hairs that fell into his face.

A groan coming from Eris was what woke me up just as the light started peaking through the windows, he had tried to sit up and was clutching his side where the dagger had been.

“Woah! careful Eris I don't want you ripping any stitches.” I fussed over him till I was able to get him laying back down.

A sickly smile was on his face as he winced. “Morning Starlight.” 

I scowled at him. “Morning Starlight? That's it! You almost died, Eris! You absolute dork. I was worried, you know?”  

He smiled at me, still relatively pale and weak as his body used the energy to slowly repair itself. “What you said before I passed out… Is it true?” 

I nodded and his hand found mine. “Are you mad?”

His voice cracked. “Darling, why would I be mad?” 

I sighed and made my way over to the table where Madja had left a few bandages and busied myself with collecting what I would need to change his bandages. “I just figured since you originally said you didn’t care for children.” 

“Darling, come here.” He called for me with his hand outstretched. 

I rounded the bed carrying the small collection of medical supplies and set them on the end table. I looked up at him through my lashes and began to slowly undo the wrap around his torso, he winced as we got to the lower bandages that stuck to the edges of the wound where blood was crusted to the cotton.

He winced as I dabbed on some anti infection and pain cream Madja had whipped up. “Darling.” His voice was a bit firmer.

I looked up from the gnarly bruising purple and red wound held closed by black thread and found his eyes, tears welling up in my own eyes as he spoke to me. “Darling I’m not mad. I wish I could get up from this damn bed to hold you and show you what this means to me.” 

I smiled at him before I turned my attention back to the wound, the edges had started to seal back together nicely, a faint red scar slowly beginning to emerge was an indicator it would heal nicely. 

I began rewrapping the cotton bandages around him as I spoke. “We have plenty of time to make up for it now then.” 

I tucked in the cotton and helped him sit up slowly. He grimaced as he spoke, adjusting to the strain in his body. “Thank you Starlight.  Because of you I had a reason to keep fighting. I said that I didn’t care for children back then because I was scared I would end up too much like my own father, but because of you I know I won’t,” he laughed softly “You wouldn’t let me. If you have helped me realize anything, it is that everything I do to better myself and my court is only possible thanks to you and how you believed in me. The thought of doing it all for you has helped me through every time I doubted myself.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked into his amber ones. “Eris…” 

He gave me a smile that was mixed with a wince as he tried to pull me into his arms and lap. “Don’t worry Starlight, I'm not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.” 

I let out a small laugh as I buried my head in the crook of his neck. “…For both of you…” he added. 

“I’m sure you will be an amazing father Eris.” I yawned and curled up closer to him.

I awoke to a wave of nausea, excusing myself from Eris’s arms saying I would bring him some food as we and slipped into the kitchen, the little vial in my hands. I stirred a drop into a warm cup of tea and sipped on it for a few seconds till the nausea dissolved and I was able to actually drink the warm concoction, I reached for a plate in the cabinet and put a couple of warm pastries the house had made for breakfast on it; another cup of tea ,which I had stirred some honey into, for Eris in my other and started my trek back to his room. 

I felt Rhys’s talons knock on my mental shield and I let him in with a tired “Good Morning.”

“Morning! How's he doing?” Rhys called back to me.

“Sore but awake.” I answered by showing him the imagery of the wound in my mind.

I felt his grimace as he replied back to me. “I’ll send Madja up in a bit then.”

“Thank you Rhys.” I motioned back to him.

I felt him slip from my mind with a “No problem sister.” 

As I neared the room I heard talking coming from inside of Eris’s room, the door was cracked and I could see Azriel glaring down at Eris before he cracked a smile and patted Eris’s shoulder. 

“Look I know we have had our disagreements Eris but I want to be a good male here, for my sisters sake not yours, you make her happy and as long as you are trying to be a good male for her and are going to step up and be a good male for the child you two made then I have no qualms with you. Deal?” He sighed and extended his hand out to Eris to shake.

Eris winced and met Azriel halfway, shaking his hand. “Deal. I plan to be your brother in law anyways.” 

I had to stop myself from choking on air, as I pushed the door open slowly acting like I hadn't just overheard their entire  conversation. “Alright I’m back and I brought croissants and a warmed honeyed tea with me.”

I turned to look at Azriel, faming my surprise to see him, he raised a brow ar me before nodding and moving to help me carry the plates. “Sorry, I was just coming to check how everything was going on in here, I sent some of my spies out to do a sweep of your court in case any other assassins or conspirators were in place.”

I perked up as he said that sitting the plate of croissants on Eris’s lap. “I can get you a list of those who have given me reason to believe they mean ill intents towards Eris or the Autumn Court in general.”

“That would be helpful.” Azriel nodded, “no rush though, I don’t wanna cause you or Eris any undue stress.”

“I’ll write it down here in a bit when we settle in for the day.” I handed the cup to Eris as he took a sip from it.

Azriel gave me a soft smile and a nod as he slipped from the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Eris nibbled at the pastry in his lap and I fixed myself up a spot in a padded chair at his bedside, making the list for my brother. Eventually Eris finished his breakfast and I sat the plate on his end table, he gently pulled me into his lap and tucked me into his uninjured side.

“We have lots to talk about Starlight.” He crooned at me. “Like what name ideas you've had so far for our little flame.”

I sighed softly nuzzling into his warmth. “I haven’t really thought about it, other things have been on my mind.”

“Like what Starlight?” He mused.

“Like what this means for us?” I chirped back at him, thinking of the earlier conversation I listened in on.

“And what do you want for us Starlight?” He inquired with a hint of amusement in his voice. 

I hummed back at him. “I'd like to be an us.”

He hummed back at me, mimicking my own. “And what kind of an us would you like to be?”

I smacked his shoulder softly. “. I dunno, something more than what we are right now? Something official? Married? Mates? I don't know, just something more.”

He snorted trying to play off his panic that he may have been planning the same thing. “A bit forward with the marriage part there huh Star-“ he paused and looked over at me quickly, his eyes wide and sparkling. “Wait. Did you say mates?”

I swallowed and nodded shallowly. “Yeah.”

His eyes sparkled brighter. “I was waiting for you to figure it out for yourself, when did you realize?”

I smiled at him adoringly. “I think I’ve always just known, honestly.”

He moved to cup my face in one of his hands. “I realized the night of the war that Beron died, when you were cleaning the blood off of me with such care.” He pulled me deep into a kiss and hummed. “I think I realized then because it showed how much you cared, you have always been the only person to ever care for me to such a  degree.”

I pressed my forehead to his,adjusting how I sat against him. “Then we have forever to look forward to.”

Eris groaned and tried to press another kiss to my lips but missed as I adjusted and his lips landed on my neck instead. “The second I can get out of this bed, we are accepting this bond.” 

I snorted and he pouted. “Any questions regarding what the healer said about the pregnancy?”

His eyes sparkled again like one of his hounds he favored when Eris would throw them a scarp at the dining table. “How far along are you then, love?”

“Probably about 2 and a half months, if my assumption of the conception date being the night you became High Lord.” I reasoned.

He raised a brow at me, his hand moving from my hip to rest on my stomach. “And why do you assume that night, we have slept together plenty of times.” 

I placed my hand on top of his and watched as his eyes dropped to our combined hands. “I assumed that originally because I started getting sick shortly after that, and my second assumption was the added hormonal boost of all that extra magic in the air. But! Now you have just backed up my assumption without even knowing it.”

“How?” He challenged.

“If it was also the night you realized I was your mate then your hormones and instincts were already heightened from the new magic in your veins and on the hormonal and instinctual boost from the mating bond and then boom!” I made a motion with my hands, “Your hormones and instincts were triple, maybe even quadruple what they were before.”

“Okay, yeah, that actually makes sense.” He mumbled.

Eventually Madja came back in later in the evening, she looked over Eris’s wounds and gave him the all clear as long as he took a few days of rest off. She said she would come by Autumn in a few weeks to connect with the healer there and to help monitor my pregnancy, she handed me a few extra vials of anti-nausea potions with a pat on my back and told me to take it easy myself since I had been stressed enough the day before to make up for several months. She applied a salve to Eris’s wound and placed a smaller bandage over it, since the risk of tearing it was less severe. I handed Azriel the list of possible conspirators and he took it with a nod, his spies would continue to investigate thoroughly since I was officially out of the spy commission. 

We returned to the Autumn Court where Eris held an emergency meeting for the entirety of the Forest House staff, he called me on stage with him and announced our mating bond, his intention to marry me, and the news of my pregnancy. As I looked over the crowd tucked nicely under Eris’s bad side to provide support I noticed several of my brother’s spies I had grown close to after working with them for so many years, it was bitter sweet seeing them there, knowing that after all these years they were here to watch over me the way I had watched over and trained all of  them with brother when we first joined Rhys’s inner court. Then Eris rolled his shoulders and cleared his voice, the atmosphere of the entire court changing with it. He growled out the names of the two traitors that had hired the hit man on him, two of my brother’s spies dragged them forward and they started begging and panicking as Eris told his court of their treachery.  Guards dragged them off to the dungeons and their own deaths were ordered by me as Eris gave me the opportunity to pick the punishment, I found it only fitting they be killed for their crimes as they tried to kill my mate. 

It was the first of many things Eris would have me decide for the court but we had other matters to handle first. We spent the rest of the week relaxing as the rest of his wound healed till all that was left was an angry red scar and by the end of the week the smallest bump had become visible along with the obvious scent change that let everyone know of my condition, it was barely noticeable but it was enough for Eris to be practically feral. When a craving for one of the Autumn Court’s signature desserts, a pumpkin bread loaf, hit me Eris had slaved away in the kitchens till he presented one he baked himself to me. The bond had been consummated,after everything had settled into place a week or two later we were married in front of his entire court and the rest of our friends and family; after our marriage ceremony he held a second ceremony making me his high lady.

Months passed by and my bump grew quickly, by the fourth month Madja had condemned me to general rest since she knew it would be impossible to keep me in bed but I was to be relaxing at all times, either laying down or sitting on either a bed or a padded couch. Between Madja and the male healer who I learned was named Nicoden’s constant checkups I learned they were mildly concerned with the speed in which the babe was growing, at first I argued with Madja it was probably due to wings from the Illyrian blood but she shot down my suggestion when she made the point Feyre wasn’t nearly as big with Nyx and he had wings. Eventually Nicoden made a suggestion about there being more than one babe, we had caught it too early to discern genders or numbers the first time I had seen him, he cited the fact Azriel and I were twins when Madja tried to disagree; it had come down to Nico and Madja putting money on it and both of them glaring at the other as they checked the babes, my answer came in the format of Madja digging into her pockets to smack a few notes into the males outstretched hand.

“Can we keep this between the three of us? I want to surprise Eris with the news.” I asked. 

They both agreed and Nico turned to me excitedly, “Do you want to know the gender of the babes yet?”

When I disagreed he got very smug, knowing something like that and being one of the only two to know.  “Anything I can do to help with the surprise?”

Madja kissed my forehead and helped me adjust how I was sitting so I could get a sip from a drink I had mixed my anti nausea medicine in. “Actually Nico, there is. Since I’m on rest could you run into the city for me and pick out a toy for each of the babes? Wrap them all in a box together and I’m sure he will catch the drift.” 

Nico was practically vibrating in his seat as he nodded excitedly, Madja congratulated me and dismissed herself to winnow home. Eris was in his last meeting of the day when Nicoden returned with the box and an eager smile on his face. 

‘Tell me how it goes.’ He mouthed.

I rolled my eyes and agreed, shooing him out of the room. I sat the box beside me on the padded chair and returned to my book while waiting for Eris to return to our room for the night.

It was about an hour later when my red-headed mate slinked into our room, exhaustion evident in his features. He had been swamped with meetings trying to get everything wrapped up with the investigations and getting the newly appointed ones adjusted to their roles before he would have to take a few weeks off with me when the babes arrived. 

He dragged himself over to me, kissing me softly. “Hello darling, I missed you.” he groaned as he sat on the sofa beside me and stretched out. 

“I have a surprise for you love.” I mused, closing my book and tossing it to the coffee table.”

“Oh? What’s that love?” He yawned.

“Here, open it, slowly now.” I handed him the delicate box.

He straightened how he was sitting, plopping the box into his lap and pulling two plush toys from the box: one a small fox and the other looked like one of his hounds. “Two toys? Is it for the babe?”

“Babes.” I corrected.

“Babes?” He asked, eyes wide.

“Babes.” I nodded.

“Babes!” He cheered

Tears welled in his eyes as he littered my face with kisses until he suddenly pulled back brows furrowed. “How did you get these? You didn't go into town did you?” 

I snorted at his protective nature. “No, I had Nicoden go and fetch them for me after we found out so I could surprise you.”

“Remind me to give him a bonus.” Eris growled out to me with a smile on his face as he pulled me into a sloppy kiss.

I took the toys from him and sat them softly back into the box, he pouted at me but cut himself off by yawning. “Alright Eris darling I do believe it is time for bed. We are all tired.” 

Eris stood motioning for me to wait and took  a few steps forward as he yawned, the fangs that grew when he became high lord flashing in the firelight. My eyes raked over his body as he began unbuttoning his dress shirt, tossing it in the basket the laundress would take in the morning. 

He looked over at me with a feline-like grin on his face. “Do you want to change into anything love?”

I nodded and watched as he kicked the heeled shoes he wore into their place beside the door. “Can I get my  black nightgown? The silk one?” 

He nodded and stepped into the walk-in closet coming back out with my gown over his shoulder, he had changed into loose silk pants that matched said gown and tossed his slacks into the basket. 

“This one right?” He held it up for me to see and when I nodded he sat it on the foot of the bed.

He walked over to me , helping me slowly stand and he escorted me to the bed; I held onto one of the four posters as he helped me out of my daily wear and into the silk sleeping gown. When we were both satisfied with the level of comfy we were at, he helped me into the bed and under our covers; he rounded the bed to crawl into his own side, though he was quick to curl up around me with his hand on my stomach and he was out like a light the second I dismissed the faelights. 

The rest of the pregnancy was rather uneventful, but when the babes decided to come several days early they made up for the lack of excitement. Eris had been in a meeting with Rhys, Azriel, Cassian, and the rest of the inner circle discussing heightening defenses for the babes ceremonies and the ball that would be hosted in their honor when they decided to come; while I was simply being helped up from my bed by Madja, who had made her home in the autumn court a week before the babes birth to be prepared for them, to go to the bathroom. I had stood and  only taken a couple of steps when my water had broken and Madja told me not to worry, summoning Nicoden who quickly prepared the room for the birth faster than I could blink. Madja had written to my mate and brothers, informing them of the upcoming labors and invited them to sit outside the room but due to the protective natures males got over their mates and spawn were not allowed inside till after everything was completed; Madja helped me into a birthing gown and into bed while Nico summoned the gaggle of top of the line healers he and Madja had picked, in total there was about 6 healers counting Madja and Nico in the room that evening.  It had been a rough labor due to tears and cuts from the wings on one of the babes; the smaller of the two ,a male, had a pair of wings equal to the size of his body and the talon of his wing had caught wrong on his way out and cut into me but thankfully my body healed it rather quickly. The blood made the labor seem worse than it was, after the first of the twins, a large wingless female, was out the rest was rather easy until the smaller twin’s wing caught. Madja was focused on me while Nico focused on the babes health, one nurse I remembered as Madja’s apprentice from Velaris was constantly monitoring my vitals, another was at my side dabbing my brow with a wet cloth, one was helping Nicoden with the babes and the final one was stood off to the side writing down whatever he was told too.  

Eventually both babes and myself had been cleared, Nico passed them both to me and they curled up right against my chest. Madja had all the nurses off to one side as she and Nico magiced the room clean, a talent I noted I would so have to learn soon.  Nico and Madja exchanged looks to each other before both nodded and Nicoden cracked the door open, stepping out to talk with my mate and family. When he came back in, Eris followed, peeking his head in, his eyes fell on me and the babes and I watched as they teared up; he took a few steps into the room softly shutting the door so it wouldn’t wake either sleeping babe and crawled onto the bed beside me. He sat very patiently beside me, his eyes sparkling with tears as he watched the two babes sleep and cling to their plush toys. The nurses, Nicoden, and Madja all dipped into the hall with my family to give us space. 

I nodded towards the babe on my left side where he sat”Your daughter, hold her Eris.” 

“My… daughter?” His voice cracked and I watched the tears start rolling down his face.

“Yep, she was the first born.” He looked up at me, the complete adoration in his features was the biggest indication of how he was feeling. 

“Oh! The mother has blessed us.” He mumbled and sniffled, looking back down at her.

He rocked her gently and she opened her eyes, his bright golden ambers, she cooed and giggled up at him. “Well hello there.” He cooed right back at her, booping her little nose with his finger.

She grasped onto his finger and he looked up at me and looked like he was about to burst at the seams with tears. “Ohhhh Eris!” I mused at them softly.

“Seraphina? For her name?” He asked with a whimper.

“I like it, Seraphina she is then.” I smiled at him, he leaned in to give me a kiss. 

“What about your son Eris? Would you like to hold him too?” I asked softly, and he nodded swiftly.

He placed Seraphina back into my arms and took the tiny male from my arms, he fit perfectly in the palm of Eris’s hand and when Eris realized how small he was he broke into tears.

“He’s so tiny, love… He fits in my hand.”I could see the tears run down his cheeks as he held the tiny winged male close. 

“Eris, love, its okay.  Nothings wrong with him.” I cooed to him.

“He’s just so tiny… What if I hurt him?” he mumbled and sniffled.

“You would never Eris, I know that. You are a gentle and patient male, you can do this.” I mused, extending my free hand to his cheek.

He looked up at me, eyes sparkling with tears. “You name him, I named her.” 

I hummed considering a few options before I finally spoke. “Orius?” It's the name of one of the stars above Velaris.” 

He nodded softly “Orius and Seraphina, our babes, by the mother.” 

He held Orius close and sobbed, fully sobbed. “Eris love, what's wrong?”

“What if I can’t do this? What if I turn out just as bad as Beron? I can't do that to them, look at how precious they are!” His voice cracked as he confided in me.

“Eris,” I called to him softly, my voice barely above a whisper in the intimate setting. “ What did I say about your fear of becoming Beron?”

He hiccuped as he tried to suck in a breath. “That my fear of becoming Beron, is what will keep me from becoming Beron and will help me become a better father than he was?”

I smiled at him and yawned softly. “Exactly, I know you Eris Vanserra and I know you will be the best you can be for me and for them now too.”

I pulled him into a kiss and he managed to pull himself together just enough to thank me. “Think you can handle your family or are you too exhausted?” 

“I can handle them, if I get too tired I’ll just fall asleep with them here.  They can’t blame me.” I joked and he snorted.

He waved his hand towards the door and snapped, it swung open softly on its hinges and I watched as everyone realized they were invited in. Azriel was the first through the door and the first to my side, the rest of the circle lounged in various seats around the room. Nyx had gone with Madja and Nico so his mother and father could meet the newest editions, but he was still a babe himself so he simply slept in the older female's arms while they made their way back to Nicoden’s office. 

I passed off Seraphina to Azriel, his eyes welling up as he looked her over. She was bright eyed and curious, cooing away at him.

“Meet your niece Az.” I yawned and Eris moved up the bed to sit against the propped up pillows with me. 

“Well hello there mam.” Azriel whispered at the small female who shook her little fist at him.

I yawned and nuzzled into Eris, I fell asleep rather quickly exhausted from the birth but now comfortable enough with my family around to relax. Everything was going to be okay, I had Eris and we had our Seraphina and Orius. Eris’s spiced cinnamon scent was like a lullaby as I drifted off into dreamland imagining what our future would look like from here on out. No matter what the pros and cons ended up being, I was happy they resolved the way they did, everyone together celebrating.

Taglist: @minaethrym, @melsunshine

[homeslices]

Euphoria (Azriel x pregnant!reader)

Summary: You and Azriel find out you’re pregnant.

A/N: Thought his idea was cute and I’m thinking about making this an entire series of dad!Azriel. Also I’m sorry if this isn’t good, it’s my first time writing anything for acotar, but I do really like it so I plan on writing more in the future.

Pairings: Azriel x pregnant!Reader

Warnings: suggests smut, slight angst about not being able to conceive a baby (fluff to make up)

Word Count: 1.0k

Azriel and you had been trying to have a babe for a while. While the only people in the Inner Circle who had a child was Rhys and Feyre, you have been mated for hundreds of years and were beyond ready. 

Having children was something you had to have many lengthy discussions about first. Azriel’s trauma with his family as a child and your own trauma being an Illyrian women whose wings got clipped before being cast out of your home only too be found and taken in by Rhys’s his mother, were all things you both had to think about before even considering bringing a babe in this world. That’s not even mentioning the war you and all of your loved ones fought in and somehow survived. However, seeing Feyre and Rhy being amazing parents to their son, and just seeing Nyx in general, has confirmed what you both have wanted for a while. 

But, as much as you both wanted a child, it just did not happen. It’s been years since you started trying, and as much as you love to be with Azriel intimately, it started to feel more like a task rather than something fun. There have been a few nights that Azriel has woken up because you forgot to close the bond and was flooded with your feelings of self-loathing. All he could do was cup your tearstained face and whisper reassuring and loving words to you. You blamed yourself and as much as Azriel denied it, those thoughts just didn’t go away.

After the third night of that happening, both you and Azriel decided to just stop trying. Of course you both would continue to not take the tonic, but your goal while being intimate was no longer having a baby, it was to enjoy each other. After a time, sex was pleasurable again, your mindset improved, and while you did have moments of self doubt, Azriel was always there for you as you were for him. Similarly, your family was amazing the entire time. While Azriel and you were fairly private about the situation, you didn’t hide what was going on with them. Their support helped you heal, both of you. It’s been a few years since then, Nyx was now six and it is true that time heals all wounds. 

Azriel was the one who noticed it first. The sun was starting to rise, light beginning to stream through the window of Azriel and your shared bedroom. It was one of those rare occasions that neither of you had to go anywhere that morning, however, Azriel was so used to being up before the sun that he was already awake. Your face was peaceful as you slept, your bare figure tangled in the sheets, and the only noise heard was your soft breathing. His hazel eyes watched your calm face, all the while having his shadows watch both of your surroundings. Weirdly enough, his shadows also kept brushing over you, almost like they were scared to let you out of their grip. It reminded him of when you first mated, at least one of his shadows had to be with you at all times once both of you got out of the frenzy.

There was something different, something unusual that Azriel could sense that made him feel uneasy, but not on edge. It bothered him, however, as your eyes fluttered open and you shifted your body to face your mate, it hit him. Well, your scent hit him. Before, the room smelled of the previous night’s activities, but with your change in position, he could now make out that your scent has changed. It was subtle, but the slight sweetness in the air was all that was needed to figure out what was so strange. 

Azriel’s face was the first thing you saw as you woke up. Despite being able to mask how he’s feeling extremely well, his slightly widened eyes, along with the millions of thoughts running rampant behind them, were all telltale signs that he was in shock. 

You hum curiously before speaking.

“What is it?” you question while reaching up to cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. You could feel the coolness of his shadows brushing all over your body, it was comforting yet slightly unusual to wake up to. 

“You're pregnant.” 

Sitting up suddenly, as if a bucket of ice water had been spilt on you, you look at him bewildered.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

A grin filled with pure joy took over his face as he answered you once again. 

“You’re pregnant.”

All you could feel was disbelief and elation. You could now tell that your scent was different and all you could do was look at your husband, your mate, incredulously. His deep laugh fills the room, only further showing his happiness. You beam at him as he lifts you in his arms and settles you on his lap. His bare skin felt warm against yours, and the chill that continued to brush over you from the shadows felt perfect against you. The only time you’ve felt this overjoyed was when you found out you were mated to Azriel. You brush your lips against his as he cups your face, brushing away the tears you didn’t know were falling. 

You knew things were going to change from that point on. You knew how male got when their mate was pregnant, how protective they became. You saw first hand when Feyre was pregnant with Nyx, she could never move more than a few feet away before Rhys was next to her once again, and if a stranger came up to her, everyone could feel the power he unleashed to get them away. Rhys had mentioned it was similar to how males are after first being mated, but also said that that is nothing compared to how protective he felt of his mate carrying his child. 

You knew that this was only the beginning of troubles you would face. But at this point in time, wrapped in one another’s embrace, tenderly kissing tears of joy off each other's face while the morning light poured in, all you could feel was euphoria. 

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine Kaido sees potential in you and drafting you into his crew

You and your comrades: [defending your home by successfully holding off the Tobiroppo]

Kaido: hmm [evaluating your fighting techniques from a distance]

King: They're taking too long to get this over with. [Draws his sword and advances on your homes]

You: [watches King taking down your friends one by one using his fire, ] I need to do something, [looks around to see only a small fishpond in a neighbor's yard]

King: [sends a blast of flames in the direction of someone's home, only to stumble back in surprise when you leap through his flames, landing on his chest, with your weapons poised to gouge out his eyes.]

Kaido: King, stop, I want that one alive.

King: [grabs you, and holds you at arm's length, stunned you're alive,] Why the hell would you want this one alive!?

Kaido: Think about it. How many people can you say, with certainty, have been brave enough to charge your fire attacks, let alone come out unscathed?

King: [eyes you with irritation] Not a single person.

You: Fuck both of you, put me down! [narrowly miss clipping King's mask with your weapon]

Kaido: I think we've found the most valuable thing in this village, there is no need to waste any more time here.

King: [huffs in frustration before turning to the crew] Alright, it's time to pull back, Kaido has what he's looking for.

Sasaki: Ehh! But there is still so much we could take! We found a whole cellar of booze.

Kaido: [looks at you out of the corner of his eye before making up his mind] Leave it.

Black Maria: This isn't like you at all, leaving booze behind, I hope you'll share with me what's happening.

Kaido: What's going on is I want this one to join our crew [tossing his thumb over his shoulder, in your direction]

You and the Beast Pirate crew: WHAT!

You: Why would I join your crew?

Kaido: Not would, will. You will join my crew. Also, if you do, I will not only leave your village alone, it will fall under my protection, and I won't tax them.

King: You're not gonna even tax them a little bit?

Kaido: Not if they accept my deal.

You: [grits your teeth] Fine.

Kaido: Okay then, let's move out.

On Kaido's Ship

King: how did you make it through my fire?

You: I used Leidenfrosts effect in a two-part defense. I grabbed a quilt my neighbor had hanging out to dry on their laundry line, then dowsed it and myself in a nearby fishpond. I climbed up on the roof and used the quilt to make it through the brunt of your attack, to jump off the roof. When the water evaporated, I then tossed the quilt to the side and attacked you.

King: Leidenfrost effect?

You: When your fire hit me, it rapidly evaporated the water, creating a protective layer of steam around me. I wasn't sure it'd even work, I figured, fuck it, it was worth a shot. [shrugs]

Kaido: [cackles] I knew there was more to you than meets the eye.

King: so you damn near beheaded me with science?... I think I'm starting to see what Kaido sees in you.

You: please don't

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[tsuvvy]

Oh Sister of Mine - Chapter 1

Your Chance

The Batfamily is getting intel and weapons back from a dangerous villain. But he had a bodyguard. A child bodyguard who didn't really seem interested in their task of guarding the villain. You seemed more interested in killing Cassandra.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, talk of killing, talk of weapons, use of weapons, use of electricity in fighting, cussing, ik Jason and Damian are skilled and can adapt to many different types of fighters, but for the sake of this, they were caught extremely off guard..

Word Count: 3.1k

You looked down at your palms, letting the volts of electricity flicker and surge around your hands. You let out a breath.

This was your one chance. Your one chance to prove to your dad that you weren't a failure. You could kill. You could kill more efficiently and quickly than Cassandra ever could. And you could do it in cold blood, unlike Cassandra who was left disgusted with her first kill.

And you would prove it by killing her.

The moon was bright in the sky, just as the bat symbol was. You stared at it through the window with a kind of hope most didn't have. The hope that you would kill someone that answers to the bat symbol in the sky.

You struggled with speech. You grew up sheltered, only being taught to kill from the moment you were put on the ground to crawl. You were a lot alike to Cassandra. But you were a quick learner. You could quickly pick up on the speech of others, and the body language to decipher a little bit of what the words might mean in different situations.

The words you knew were a small amount that you couldn't get out of your mouth without a bit of struggle.

“No, that Cain guy sent this kid,” you glanced over your shoulder to look at the desk behind you where a man in a nice suit sat. He was lazing around in his chair, his legs kicked up on the desk as he looked at you. You remember your dad calling him Kerrim. Kerrim didn't realize you were looking back, “one creepy ass kid,” he added the remark onto his statement from before. “He said they're one of the best, but I won't buy it till I see it.” He smirked in doubtful amusement.

Orphan, Red Hood, and Robin worked diligently to avoid the cameras of the building and avoid guards that walked around.

Though it wasn't easy.

“I wasn't expecting the guard to be so high up..” Red Hood grumbled, peeking around the corner at a few guards that were speaking in the hallway.

“And what did you expect?” Robin grumbled back, looking up at the man, “That this guy was dumb? No. Someone can't make it this high up into the drug business by being dumb.” He sent a scowl at Red Hood from behind his domino mask.

“Aww, did you just call me smart?” Red Hood smirked from behind his helmet, looking down at Robin.

“Focus.” Orphan reminded the two, “We have to take the guards out, we can't get past them any other way..”

“On it.” Red Hood said.

“Wait-” Red Hood was already turning the corner, immediately alerting the guards to his presence.

“Huh.. Guess someone can get up the drug business by being dumb.” Robin remarked as he watched around the corner with Orphan.

“Intruder!” One of the guards had yelled into his walkie talkie clipped to the breast pocket of his vest. “Intruder in sector G!”

Red Hood was fighting with the other guard. Knocking him off of his feet by kicking under his legs and knocking him unconscious by kicking him in the head.

“Shit!” Red Hood yelled when alarms started going off and red lights started flashing everywhere.

Orphan and Robin looked to the camera above their head they had been in the blind spot of. It was now angled directly towards them.

‘What did you idiots do!?’ Tim yelled through the coms in their ears.

Red Hood had started fighting with the other guard, having a bit of trouble before Orphan rushed forward.

“‘You idiots?’ It was Red Hood!” Robin retorted back into the coms as he too moved around the corner.

Orphan had rushed past Red Hood and landed a flurry of well calculated hits and kicks to the guard. One of the kicks that sent him colliding into the wall knocked him out as well. He slid against the wall falling to the floor.

The three looked down the hall at the sounds of footsteps. Many of them.

“You are an imbecile. An imbecile!” Robin yelled at Red Hood before he turned around the corner again, already running down the hall before Red Hood and Orphan followed.

“Well sorry I was taking initiative!” Red Hood yelled at the kid in annoyance.

“In here!” Orphan called, beckoning the two into a room that looked to be for something like storage. It was big and barren enough to hear an echo.

“They went this way!” The three stopped in the middle of the room, turning to look at the door in anticipation when the guard had yelled that. They expected anyone to walk in at any moment. But they heard a group of bounding footsteps pass the door.

Your head whipped around at the flashing red lights and the alarms sounding throughout the whole building.

“Shit!” Kerrim screamed, jumping out of his seat in an instant, his hands on the desk. “How the hell did they get in without getting noticed!?”

You were practically already at the door. “Hey!” He screamed at you, “Where the hell are you going!!?” But you didn’t respond. You didn’t even acknowledge you. “Get back here, you little rat!!” And you were out the door.

“Damnit!” Kerrim slammed his hands against the desk before whipping around and kicking his swivel chair, which went rolling. His kick barely did anything to the chair. “Cain said you were one of the best!” He yelled after you. Or.. More at the door you had just exited through. “But the best know how to follow orders!”

Kerrim started pacing around the room, grumbling and screaming frustrated curses that also held anxiety for the situation with intruders in the building.

All you could think about was the chance you had just gained. You knew it was her. Or at least someone from the accursed Batman vigilante group. But even if it wasn’t Cassandra. You could get her attention by killing another she cared for.

This is your chance

You have to take it while you have it.

You can't pass this up.

Despite not expecting to meet the intruders almost right outside Kerrim’s office, just down the wide hall. Neither looked to be Cassandra to your disappointment. But you recognized them to be Robin and Red Hood. People affiliated with her.

The three had taken a moment to regroup and catch their breaths before they had slipped out of the storage room door and listened to Tim’s directions to get to Kerrim's office.

Red Hood and Robin froze at the sight of you, but you had already unsheathed your sword with the swiftness and speed equivalent to that of a bird's. They weren't expecting a kid to come out of Kerrim’s office. Especially not a kid that looked to be the same age or younger than Robin.

“What the hell!!?” He screamed, just barely dodging the slashes of your swords. Robin had unsheathed his own sword, raising it and bringing it down to attack you. But you ricocheted the attack, blocking it and throwing the direction of his sword in another before you raised your leg, kicking him in the side and sending him colliding with a wall.

“Who in the hell is this kid!?” Red Hood shrieked, dodging slice after slice of your attacks. For a little kid, you were extremely strong, agile, and obviously professionally trained in fighting. Well enough to be able to have a chance at winning a fight with a grown man twice your size and a boy trained to be an assassin since birth.

‘Their fighting style's familiar..’ Tim muttered into the com. ‘Wait, where did Orphan go?’

You let the electricity conduct into the grip of the sword. It didn’t take too long for it to travel up into the blade, starting to wrap around it. Red Hood raised his gun up, having the intention to use it to block the slice of your sword. But he hadn't expected it to cut through. He felt a shock in his arm, and soon it went numb and tingly for a moment. The half of his gun he still held fell from his hand and collided to the ground.

He jumped back, staring at you from behind his helmet in shock.

The electricity in your sword had traveled into his gun and then his hand to produce the effect that it did.

“Red Hood, are you okay!?” He heard through the coms in his ears.

“Cassandra..” You spoke in a somewhat shaky and strained voice, like you were struggling to speak. “Where.. Is she?” Your voice, apart from the struggle it took to find the words, was somewhat muffled due to the cloth of the mask you wore over your mouth.

“What..?” Red Hood asked, confused. The struggle you had with your speech took him aback.

“Where..” You swallowed, “where is Cassandra.”

Red Hood was at a loss for words. He was confused on how a kid like you that appeared out of nowhere was so skilled with a sword and a power as adept as electricity. He knew children could be good fighters, Cassandra and Robin being prime examples. But you? Something was different about you. Your fighting style was familiar, just like Tim had noticed. But the other thing was.

“How do you know Cassandra?” Robin spoke coldly behind you. Yeah.. That was what Red Hood had been getting to.

You didn't respond, which caused Robin’s brows to furrow and his eyes to narrow on you behind his domino mask.

“Fine, I'll say it again. How do you know who Cassandra is?” His voice was more stern, growing a venom in it that could kill like a Cobra’s.

“Where is she?” Your voice still held that shake and struggle in it.

Something about you reminded Robin of someone. But he couldn't place his finger on who.

Neither of the two watching you noticed the way you were charging up a surge of electricity within your hand. Neither noticed it before you were throwing your arm out towards Robin, shooting it at him.

Robin was caught off guard. He hadn't been expecting you to be able to charge up your ability so quickly. He couldn't move quick enough to dodge it.

Just before it touched his middle, he was being tackled from the side. He looked up in surprise at Orphan.

She was already standing up, directing her attention to you.

“I’m right here,” She told you.

Your eyes widened somewhat, and you turned to look at her better. You couldn’t believe it. There she is. And not in some old picture or low quality one your father had managed to get someone to take. It was her in front of you in the flesh.

You’re taking your chance.

Red Hood lurched forward, thinking your attention was fully on Orphan. Though it wasn’t. You had made sure to keep both Robin and Red Hood in your peripheral vision. A surge of electricity started to travel through your arm before getting to your hand. The surging light seemed to wrap around your arm and now your hand as it traveled. Your palm collided with his stomach. Your touch seemed more gentle, but the powerful shock that seemed equivalent to a defibrillator shocked Red Hood’s insides. He stumbled backward.

His limbs felt numb, the room was spinning, he couldn’t focus and his whole body was in pain.

“Red Hood!” Robin and Cassandra cried, so did Tim within the coms. Red Hood stumbled a bit more.

Your attention was already back on Cassandra. You held your sword in both hands, rushing forward and slicing at the black haired vigilante. She moved quickly, you couldn’t deny it. Quicker than the first two did. Though you could tell you had only caught Robin off guard, you knew he could fight better. But that didn’t matter. Now Cassandra is here. Now she is your priority.

Again, she was quick. She dodged your countless attacks you threw at her with your sword. Robin had gone to Red Hood’s side, checking his pulse.

You swung your sword, but Cassandra slipped under it and rushed forward. Your eyes widened as you saw her hand was going for a pressure point in your wrist, crap. No.. It’s okay. You’re fine. You were trained just like her, if not better. And you have an advantage.

You threw your sword to the side, it was the only option so you could keep control of your hands. If you held onto it, she would have paralyzed your wrists for as long as she felt necessary. Electricity surged and wrapped around your calf, traveling down to your foot. You pushed backwards with that foot, putting your weight on the leg you didn’t have electricity rushing through. You raised your foot, kicking Cassandra with a strength that could knock down one of the heavier training dummies at the Manor’s gym.

Cassandra couched, stumbling backwards for a moment while holding her side you had kicked. She had winced in pain, closing an eye tightly to somehow deal with it. Her side was throbbing, and she knew the electricity had traveled into her arms and legs because she could feel her fingertips throbbing, and her legs had felt weak for a second. But, she recovered quickly. The two of you looked at each other, in some sort of a stand off like you see in those western movies. But two of you were now fighting hand to hand.

“Orphan,” Robin called from the side, Red Hood had recovered some, being able to stand now. But he still looked a bit disoriented.

“Go,” Cassandra said, “I can handle this.”

Robin and Red Hood listened, heading towards the door behind them. You didn’t care. Again, Cassandra is your priority, not them.

“Right.” Robin said, going towards the door. You didn't care about protecting Kerrim. It's not like he meant anything to you. Plus, your father will be proud when you kill Cassandra. Far prouder than if you kept some random drug lord alive.

You lurched forward, immediately catching her attention again. You threw a kick at her which she had dogged and you ducked under the punch she sent at you. You winced when she kicked your side and you caught her leg. You pulled it forward roughly, also pulling Cassandra towards you and let go of her leg; you punched her in the face. Your fist collided with her jaw.

Cassandra ignored the slight pain radiating within her cheek and threw her arms out forward and around you. She wrapped her arms around your middle tightly. You tried to push against her, but she was strong. Stronger than you were really expecting. She pushed you forward until your back hit against the wall of the wide hallway roughly. It hurt and knocked the wind out of you, but you recovered quickly. You raised up your own leg and kicked the heel of the boot you wore into Cassandra’s abdomen. She stumbled backwards, holding her abdomen with one arm, and the other arm was at her side.

She looked at you with a wince on her face, her jaw clenched. You rushed forward and started sending electrified punches and kicks at her, but she dodged them all, some just barely. But she dodged them all.

You were growing more and more frustrated. And with that, your attacks just grew more and more aggressive.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked as she blocked a kick of your’s with her forearm. She couldn’t see your whole face because of the mask you were wearing to at least hide the bottom half of your face. But she could see your eyes. And she saw the way your brows furrowed. She recognized it. She recognized the dim look on your face. She realized it was the one she used to have when she was about your age.

She realized you couldn't understand what she was saying. She felt a pain of empathy fall through her body, landing in her stomach.

You had no idea what she was saying. It sounded like gibberish. But you could tell she was holding back. She wasn’t fighting as well as she could have. Your father made you watch videos of how Cassandra fought when she was your age. She was incredibly skilled, you knew that. And how she was fighting now was that you’ve seen from a novice from the League of Assassins.

Your father realized not long after you grew more of a consciousness for yourself that you had a short temper. You get frustrated easily. And he also realized your meta human ability might be tied with your emotions. You and your electricity got stronger, more relentless, and faster.

And Cassandra had noticed this too. She was amazed with you. You were so young, no older than 14 or maybe 13 and you were already so in control of your abilities. And you were quick. Very quick.

You were about to high kick her in the side of her head, but you made a mistake. You slipped. The foot you put all of your weight on slipped on the ground. Your eyes widened. Cassandra grabbed your wrists and decided on falling with you.

You winced when your back hit the ground roughly. You felt your head knock against the ground roughly as well. Her forearm was against your neck, and she had both of your wrists pinned to the ground above your head. You felt one of her knees pressing firmly against your abdomen, and her other foot was on the ground next to you both, holding her up.

You felt your head pounding, and your eyes grew heavy, no doubt because of it’s collision with the ground. You looked around. Your vision was mixed with spots of different sizes as you looked at the walls and dim lights on the cieling that seemed greatly bright now. Soon, your gaze landed on the woman above you.

Cassandra. Crap.. Cassandra had you pinned to the ground. You need to get up. You need to fight. You need to kill her. You can’t lose, not like this when you’re so close to your mission.

You tried to push against her grip on your wrists, and you tried to push your abdomen up to maybe push her knee off of you, but it wasn’t any use. You were too weak, and you were too tired.

The most you could was charge up a weak volt of electricity into your arms and send them up to your wrists. All Cassandra felt was a tiny shock like static shock from a door or clothing.

Then everything went black..

Chapter Two ->

[peppermint-moss]

Got a donation on my ko-fi that got us to reach TWO behind the scenes stretch goals!! thank u thank u!!

These are all the characters' 'base' colours! For each blue/pink/purple scene I'd put the corresponding blue/pink/purple colour (seen at the bottom of the first image) at 100% Soft Light over them (with a clipping mask) to tint them appropriately C:

I made sooo many character designs for this amv haha; usually different/side characters don't show up as much in my amvs that I honestly just make them up on the spot lol. But this time a lot of side characters appeared multiple times so I actually designed them out beforehand (and I started to have fun drawin lil guys hehe)

Oh yea forgor: the lil note beside Darktail's eye; I originally wanted the lake to be blue to match the symbolic colour of Needle's like despair n stuff, But through the course of making the amv I realized I wanted the lake she drowns in to be purple because she's doing it for Violetpaw!! So in the amv the water ended up being blue for just a moment when Dark pushes her underwater, then back to its purple :')

And the second BTS is the sketches for the thumbnail! I started in my sketchbook to brainstorm n then moved it over to digital (that digital sketch needle has like one paw raised but then i was like. That looks weird lol)

commission info || ko-fi (tip jar; for every $8 in donations I share a BTS!)

[jjenthusee]

Racing Hearts Pt. 3

f1!driver!jason x reporter!reader

A/N: Another chapter, another story filled with jason todd 🤭 it makes me so happy to continue this au and to see my beautiful gremlins enjoying it as well 🥹 the comments for the tag list are so helpful (im new to that bear with me <3) but i love reading any comments about the story, any predictions your great minds have, or if you’re just looking forward to the next chapter :D so ENJOY and comment if your comfortable <3

See you in part 4 COMING SOON :))) also check out the masterlist for this series linked here <3

Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, spice if u squint 👀

Word Count: 3.1k

Tag List: @jaybirdstreet @gallusstuff @meowkn @velvetberries @i0lovepink00 @rayaskoalaland @spidernuggets @janybabyy @deimks @yasmin-oviedo @bigraga-sk

yourmom34: Why am I kinda invested?

imjasonsrightleg: Bye, update me when they start dating

potatoislyfe: He has chemistry with EVERYONE

notrealroyharper: THAT SHOULD BE ME

bigbootylicious87: Is it just me or are they entirely different from that press conference???

justicefortacoman: I can’t believe Jason moved on from taco man :(

“I can’t believe this.” You said to yourself, setting down your phone to no longer read the comments.

Leaning forward until your arms rested on your knees as you sat on the couch.

You had completed one full interview with Jason. His management wanted to film it. A new press strategy to help their racers gain more popularity outside the track.

You had agreed.

Broadcast journalism had been an area of interest because of the age of the internet and how fast news can spread through social media.

Now they wanted you and Jason to interact.

Jason’s social media team had pitched that you two sit down, you ask him questions and Jason would be the charismatic man he was.

It was simple, something you had done with many athletes, but it was Jason. A man you had multiple meals with, volunteered with, and almost…nevermind.

You thought you masked it well, set personal away from professionalism, but you were clearly wrong from the comments on the video.

You had watched it on your phone, curiosity scratching at you when you cooked lunch. Then when you couldn’t take it, you pressed the play button.

You were in denial. Ever since you came back from your volunteer work on Jason’s motorcycle, you had tried to play everything off with as much nonchalance as possible.

You didn’t mention how close your faces were that day. He dropped you off after the work in Crime Alley. You waved goodnight.

You didn’t see him until you got the call from your company. The interview filmed, quickly edited, released and you continued to deny.

But how were you supposed to deny what you saw on the tiny phone screen. It was out in the open, the public knew, you knew.

Did Jason know?

Did he see what you denied to yourself?

Or maybe he was just too good at looking good with anyone?

His fan base even made a running joke to pretend he has chemistry with anyone he interacts with in public.

You were just the next contestant.

That had to be it.

jasonjustonechance51: Was Jason kinda…shy?

redhoodsgyatt: I’VE NEVER SEEN THAT FOINE MAN LAUGH LIKE THAT IM IN LOVE?

tortillagrease861: I don’t know who this beautiful man is but I need him.

redbulljasonismywater69: I was trying to gatekeep him, but I guess I can share cause everyone deserves to see this man smile

poopoobatman417: He is so boyfriend

You threw your phone back onto the couch cushion, reading anymore comments was not helping.

After calming down and a movie break, you checked Jason’s social media and Red Bull’s racing account. There were the usual clips, Roy and Jason being the most popular duo.

Multiple edits and clips of them doing miscellaneous things. It wasn’t that bad, maybe you weren’t his focus right now.

But you were conflicted, it was good if the video of the two of you went well. It was better than being popular from negativity.

You could live with this.

A notification popped up on the top of your screen, perfect font displaying “Mr. Todd has sent a message.”

Speak of the devil.

Mr. Todd: want anything?

You clicked on an image of a menu.

He always knew how to get you. A late night meal wouldn’t hurt.

You: Miss me already?

You: Combo, medium, sprite

Mr. Todd: kay

Mr. Todd: my place or yours

Oh no.

You had just come to terms with thinking you meant nothing to this man.

You watched three dots float at the bottom of the messages, anticipation eating at you.

Mr. Todd: couldn’t get enough of you after the interview

You needed to check yourself into the hospital at this rate.

Fuck read receipts, now you needed to respond.

You: bro I don’t know where u live

Mr. Todd: bro I can just tell u

You: bro my place

You’re an idiot.

Mr. Todd: Brok

You: brok?

Mr. Todd: bro + ok

You: return my food

Mr. Todd: too late I already left and the kind lady gave me a free drink

You: I hope u drop ur free drink

Mr. Todd: no sprite for u then

You: wait

You: the sprite is innocent

Mr. Todd: this hurts me more than it hurts u

You saw a picture appear in the messages. He was holding the cup of sprite over a familiar ledge. The ledge of your apartment building floor.

You grabbed your keys, pulled on some quick sneakers, haphazardly put on, laces loose. You raced out of your apartment, quickly locking the door and running down the hall.

You ran to see Jason near the open ledge, night air surrounding him. Seeing his face turn to you, a smile spreading on his face.

You ran to save your sprite from his evil hands.

“Aw, so excited to see me that you didn’t put on your shoes properly.” Jason quipped, letting you take the hostage from his hands.

After securing your drink, your turned around. Eyeing Jason from your side.

He waited, a soft look on his face.

“Well, are you coming?” You walked forward, small smile perfectly hidden from Jason’s view.

——

You had sat down in front of your TV, putting your drink on the coffee table. You grabbed the remote trying to browse through several movies.

Jason had followed you in through the front door, taking off his shoes as soon was he walked in. He slowly walked toward you, taking a good look around your apartment.

You tried not to look at him, choosing to focus on your TV screen as he surveyed your one-bedroom apartment.

As he slowly stepped, you decided to chance one look at him.

Your eyes shifted toward his tall figure, he was oddly focused on your window, set near the small dining table.

It was a last-minute decision after you realized the format of your living room and kitchen. You liked watching the outside as you ate.

“Welcome to my home. Sorry for the mess, I didn’t get the chance to clean up after you took my sprite hostage.” You leaned your head on your hand, resting yourself on the coffee table as you watched Jason.

“Don’t worry about it, also you should lock your window.” Jason spoke.

You glanced toward the object in question, the latch was undone when you opened it earlier that day. You must’ve forgotten. It was a similar bad habit as never locking your balcony door.

Who would climb through that? Well, besides Batman, you don’t expect any visitors.

“Oh, sometimes I forget. But let’s eat first.” You shrugged.

Jason set the food down next to you, you felt the warmth radiating from the bag.

“I got it, your food should be the one on top.” Jason eyed the window, walking to it, snapping the lock into place.

You gasped.

“You ordered the other meal I wanted to try!” You smiled in excitement.

Jason turned back to sit down next to you. Lazily leaning against the foot of the couch.

He raised an eyebrow at the sparkle in your eyes, a silent question obvious on your face.

“Wanna try a piece?” Jason asked, giving in to the longing look.

“Aw, thanks Mr. Todd.” You dug into the two meals in front of you.

Jason moved to sit closer to you. Your excitement over the food distracting you, delaying your nervousness and your earlier debate with yourself.

As you took a bite, happy with the combination, you clicked on a movie. Letting it play as you and Jason ate.

“I thought you were kidding when you asked me if I liked the movie Cars.” Jason said in disbelief as he watched.

“It was for the interview…and I was genuinely curious.” You kept your eyes on the screen.

“Sweetheart, I don’t race in NASCAR. You know that.” Jason looked at you, astonished.

“I know, I think it’s hilarious.” You flatly said, focused on the movie in front of you. “You give off Lightning McQueen vibes.”

Jason nearly choked on his food.

“I feel like I should be offended.” Jason, stunned, looked at you.

You ignored him, letting him fret about your words as you finished your meal.

After Jason gave in and continued to watch the movie with you, you had cleaned up and the two of you moved onto the actual couch.

The soft cushions letting you sink in, sinking toward Jason who also dipped the couch. Letting a blanket droop over your legs.

He had taken his hoodie off, throwing it over a dining chair. Jason was clearly comfy for the night, in sweatpants and a t-shirt that hugged him nicely.

You were content letting your body relax. Watching animated cars as Jason, the fastest formula 1 driver, sat near you in your apartment.

With a full stomach and in pajamas.

Crazy how things worked out.

You smiled at your realization.

Your eyes felt heavy, the couch warm next to Jason.

Jason mindlessly watched the movie, pouting a little that he couldn’t believe that you thought of him like the red car.

Then he felt your weight on his shoulder.

He glanced to his side, seeing the top of your head. His heart raced. You had fallen asleep, a nice weight to his shoulder.

He saw your eyelashes, beautifully laid flat onto your cheeks as you gave into your sleepiness.

Call him a bad man, but he leaned his head on top of yours. Nuzzling into you.

You were probably going to wake up flustered, but he enjoyed making you nervous.

Seeing your ears going perfectly red.

Jason didn’t know what color he liked, he ended up with many things, falling into the rhythm of going with the flow. His racing career, his instincts to ask his manager to set up an interview with the talkative reporter, continuing to get lunch with you.

Now he was here, feeding you, sitting on your couch.

Getting more infatuated with the lil’ reporter he’s growing close to.

He learned something new today.

He realized his favorite color was the shade of your flustered ears.

——

You were stirring awake, your eyes slowly blinking into the faint light from the floor lamp. Majority of the darkness still around you.

You must have fallen asleep.

But how could you resist? It was warm around you.

As your consciousness entered your mind, you realized a weight around you. Fitted loosely around your waist, a soft fabric touching your face, slow even breaths slightly moving the hairs on your head.

Your eyes widened.

Jason was curled around you. At some point in between your nap, you and Jason had laid on the couch. Fully extending your bodies, falling into each other to fit perfectly into the soft cushions.

Oh no. You stiffened.

Jason started to stir awake, instinctually feeling the heightened panic from you next to him.

He slightly stretched his body, taking a deep inhale before releasing it, then slowly opening his eyes to look down at you. Your big eyes meeting his.

He sleepily smiled, pulling his arm around you closer to him. Somehow managing to get you even closer to him.

You felt his heartbeat through his shirt.

A lovely feeling.

“Jason.” You spoke into his t-shirt.

“Hm?” Jason grumbled, trying to wake up, but refusing.

“I think you accidentally fell asleep.” You moved your head, so your words weren’t mumbled into his body.

“I was going to leave.” Jason yawned. “You fell asleep and I laid you down on the couch, but you grabbed my shirt.” He smirked, eyes closed.

You moved your head, raising your chin toward Jason’s head above yours.

Your faces more parallel.

“What do you mean?” You quietly asked him, clearly surprised by the current situation, but still mindful of the sleepy man.

“You wouldn’t let go of me, so I tried sitting on the edge of the couch, but your grip never loosened. Then you kept tugging, so I finally laid down.” Jason continued to explain with his eyes closed, trying to keep his fatigue. “You have a deadly drip by the way.”

“I’m sorry.” You sighed.

“Why do you always do that?” He asked confused.

“Do what?”

“You always back away every time I get closer.” Jason’s eyebrows lowered, slight frustration in his tone. He was very expressive despite his eyes still closed.

“I don’t do that.”

“You were about to.” Jason pouted.

“I’m still laying next to you, I’m not backing away.” You retorted.

“You know that’s not what I meant. I can feel your negativity surrounding you.”

“Come on…I just,” You hesitated. “I just don’t want to bother you, to possibly cause a misunderstanding.”

Jason’s eyes opened, full seriousness in his gaze.

“What if I want you to bother me.” He directly told you, eyes never leaving yours.

Your faces nearly touching, the tips of your ears reddening. Curse your blood flow.

“I don’t understand.” You stammered, scared to peak into the direction this was going.

“I want to bother your life and I want you to bother mine. You make me feel alive because I want to talk to you, even when you don’t want to talk, I still want your time.” Jason directly told you.

You didn’t know what to say. Your heart racing as he continued to hold you, your faces close to one another, legs intertwined. His voice admitting what you’ve been scared to say.

It was out in the open. Clear as day.

Maybe it was meant to be this simple.

You were just too anxious and stubborn to call it what it was.

You kept Jason’s stare, his determination never faltering.

You pulled your hand from in between your bodies, releasing it from the depths of the blanket. You caressed his face, smoothing out the lines in between his eyebrows, softening his expression.

You smiled at your ability to control this man.

Maybe to the public he was rowdy, uncontrollable. But when you faced him, he was ready to come running when you held out a hand, waiting to rest his face in it.

He waited for your touch, your words, your quick glances.

You were the same. Ready to touch him, sing his name, memorize his smile.

You could barely contain yourself.

You leaned forward, kissing the man you longed for.

Your very first initiation towards him. No longer backing away.

You gently pressed into him. Both of your eyes closed, focusing on blurred touches of skin.

You want to touch him. You want more.

You rubbed where the back of his head met his neck, feeling the prick of his hair on your fingers. Your thumb rubbing behind his ear.

Jason matched you, letting feeling take over him.

He gripped your jaw, stretching your neck, adding another layer of desperation to your kiss.

Jason selfishly took your shared breaths.

When he wasn’t satisfied with that he moved to lean himself over you, but you put a hand to his chest.

Stopping him.

In his confusion, eyes glossed over, he only looked at you, his mind trying to catch up.

You ended up rolling him over, your body laid on top of his, Jason laid flat on his back. He reached up to cup his hands to your face.

You leaned down, deepening the kiss.

You had no reason to hold back. If it was this simple to be with Jason, you wanted to waste no more time on what ifs.

You were comfortable, letting your body fall onto Jason’s solid body. You wanted to feel more of him.

You readjusted yourself, straddling his waist near the waist band of his sweatpants. Jason panting, his breaths haggard.

You sat up fully, taking in the full image of him. It was beautiful.

“You’re gorgeous.” Jason breathed, in awe.

He gripped the sides of your waist, rubbing through your shirt.

Despite never removing any clothes, you were just as worked up.

You panted.

You internally thanked your unconscious self for keeping a death grip on this man.

You leaned down, nipping at Jason’s neck.

A sweet melody filled with Jason’s voice gasping. You felt every breath and vibration as you focused on his neck.

Letting yourself mark him just above his collarbone.

You looked down, hazily rating your work.

Jason reached up and rubbed your cheek. His soft touch contrasting your desperation.

The rising sun, letting in a soft glow through the large window near your dining table.

What a great way to start your morning.

You didn’t wake up this early, but to do this with Jason, you might have to start changing your routine.

Jason laid you back down to lean on top of him, He breathed into your neck as he held you close to him.

His large hands holding the back of your head, rubbing small circles.

“I told you I’m not backing away.” You smiled into Jason’s hair.

“I believe you now.” Jason chuckled, content in the comforting weight of you.

——

After another quick nap, you and Jason woke up, both of your hairs in a mess.

You were groggy, trying to help yourself to a cup of anything this morning, tea or coffee.

You watched Jason from your kitchen counter, he was learning where everything was. Memorizing the cabinets and drawers.

His broad back, a great view in your kitchen.

Your poor dining table window falling to second place.

You were in a daze watching his shoulders flex through the fabric of his shirt. It was like a switch flipped in you.

You shook your head, focusing back on the contents of your cup.

Jason made a cup of coffee, finally facing you. Leaning on the opposite counter.

Your eyes lowered to his stretched-out t-shirt around his neck.

You found what you were looking for, a purple blemish on his collarbone.

What a great morning.

Jason caught wind of your stare. Setting his cup down, caving you in-between his arms as he leaned on your counter.

It’s like you were made to be in his arms.

You giggled, trying to continue sipping on your cup. Letting Jason kiss around any opening of your face that wasn’t on the cup.

He was enjoying the moment, taking his time until you wanted to let him break.

When you had enough of the tickling sensation, you lifted your chin, letting Jason fully take your mouth.

The taste of coffee flooding you.

After your morning shenanigans in the kitchen, you spent the rest of the morning lounging, stealing kisses, possibly adding another blemish to match the other one.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Drawing each other (Slasher edition)

help im getting good ideas for writing but idk what fandoms to write it for so uhuh... i guess writing for the mains ones i write for! woo yeah! characters: jason voorhees, brahms heelshire, bubba sawyer, thomas hewitt, Michael myers notes: reader is GN, admin did a coin clip on whether or not the reader is an artist cws: none

JASON

sometimes sitting in the cabin all day can get a little boring, you were the one who brought up the idea of drawing each other

neither of you are particularly good at drawing but that doesnt mean the two of you arent going to have fun

hes a little embarrassed to show you his drawing of you, hes hesitant to turn the paper around to show you

you didnt have much access to many drawing supplies, a lot of what you already had was crayons and colored pencils stolen from the camp, as well as the paper

he doesnt care if the drawing doesnt look the best, hes in love with just about anything you do or anything that has to do with you

he keeps the drawing folded up and tucked in his shirt pocket!

BRAHMS

hes actually pretty decent at drawing, using that to spend his time when hes not watching you from the cracks in the walls

on top of that hes pretty confident in his ability

you, on the other hand.... i dont think he would make fun of your work, but its clear that theres only one artist between the two of you

keeps the drawing you make of him in his little hiding place in the walls

takes a long minute to look at your drawing of him, its hard to read what hes thinking in that moment

more than proud of his drawing of you, you likely have to remind him to hurry up.. hes going to spend a lot of time on it

will expect a compliment for his work- and dont think he wont compliment your work either!

MICHEAL

you got the idea while doodling random stuff in your sketchbook, deciding to take this as a moment to do something together

he doesnt get it at first but hes... probably... not going to just walk away from you

a decent artist himself, he doesnt draw often but its clear he knows some of the basics of art

very quiet while the two of you draw but its nothing new

exchanging your drawings goes without a hitch, and hes sitting there looking at your paper for a long moment... he doesnt give much of a reaction... but you do notice him tucking the paper into one of his pockets

he doesnt care if you keep his drawing or not, however you sometimes find him looking at his art if you display it somewhere

BUBBA

hes not very good at drawing, he never really gets the time to sit down and doodle- on top of that he doesnt know what to draw most of time, when he does have the time and thought to try!

loves anything you make, you dont have to be a good artist either, hes going to take in every little detail of the art

is this how you see him?

if youve added additional stuff such as sparkles or hearts, hes going to be staring even longer... thats so sweet, you like like him?

of course he already knew you did, youre both dating but seeing stuff like that in passing always feels nice

very protective of the drawing out of fear that his brothers may tamper or destroy it- at best they (namely nubbins and choptop) may tease him

THOMAS

like his original counterpart, thomas doesnt draw all that often so he hasnt built up the skill... but that doesnt mean he isnt going to try to draw you how he sees you when you sit him down to do this activity with him

takes a long time to get all the details right, doesnt want to make you look off or worse, offend you if he messes something up

you can draw him with or without his mask, but its clear that you put care into the drawing, regardless of skill

loves it so much, hangs it on the wall in the basement so he can look at it while hes working... its like a little motivational thing for him! he protects his family, and youre part of it.. he does this for you!

a little hesitant to give you his drawing, but lightens up at your delight for how he portrayed you

[labyrinth-of-her-heart]

braaainnnn vomit because i am dying from growing pains, some ideas go to this one lady i saw on youtube shorts (ty queen) FEM READER, pink is reader thoughts wrote this at 3 in der morning forgive me

thinking about subtle sarcastic reader, especially to the type of man she'd encounter while working in the army. being a civilian and a woman many on base just looked over her, or looked too intensely at certain parts of her. but after months of working she's found her place, she's now respected by those who surround her. but what happens when some higher ups come and visit?

working closely with the 141 was no easy task. going from mundane paperwork to the flurry of movement from a mission was difficult for you to handle, let alone helping them. you'd grown closer to them though, no more bouts of shyness stopping you from being yourself. instead you'd grown in to steady workplace banter with all.

unfortunately today couldn't be one of those days as some ever so important higher ups were holding a meeting with the 141, and since you handle the majority of the paperwork you were so graciously invited to attend. you wished you had a little bit more time to prepare for this. these were important people, who wouldn't be nervous? apart from soap who appeared with a shit-eating grin at your office door, gifting you another surprise meeting. or gaz who could charm any conversation his way a bit too easily, with suave compliments and easy-going humour. don't forget ghost who doesn't even need to look engaged because of his mask, or be expected to speak due to his... unique personality. oh and the captain has been to countless of these meetings, so he can't empathise with you either.

but, one thing you could all agree on is that meetings were incredibly boring. for two reasons mostly. either the attendees were so dense it seemed they hadn't stepped on planet earth before, let alone a military base. or the subject matter was so bland you all wondered why there needed to be a meeting in the first place.

as your heels tapped hastily along the hallway you wondered which it would rather be. arriving barely on time with a tight clutch on haphazardly organised documents and a cup of coffee you opened the door, and had an inkling it wouldn't be any. you were met with two male voices. one high, clipped and plummy, the other harsh and american.

" -- that's what i expected from someone of her- oh hello! nice to finally meet you" the man at the head of the table said. an older, short and stout man with thin wire-rimmed glasses and a black tailored suit. a typical english man in an authoritative position. "ah, sorry i was late you'll have to excuse me. i thought to bring my extra notes, i hope i didn't make you wait long." you replied. "not at all, my colleague mr sullivan and i were discussing stories from our base". your gaze flicked over to what must be the source of the american voice. perfectly gold hair stuck down with copious amounts of gel, paired with lightly tanned skin and a too white smile didn't make it hard to guess. "civilians eh?" the taller man began "don't know what's up with the ones here, especially the woman we were just talki-"

"right" prices deep gravely voice cut over the grating one "we should start the meeting now we're all here". murmurs of agreement filled the room, and so did glances between the 141 that you didn't pick upon. however you did notice they were unusually quiet though you brushed it off, they were probably tired. "gosh where are my manners" the man at the head of the table exclaimed "my name is mr buckton and i'll be leading this meeting." briskly taking a few steps towards you he shook your hand roughly. being polite you attempted to make eye contact, yet his eyes were still looking straight ahead? lingering only on your chest for a moment he then made eye contact with you, a wide grin plastered on his face. "come, your seat is next to mine" he prompted, gesturing you to walk infront of him and take your seat. as you walked infront of him his eyes now travelled further south. a small grimace shared from gaz to soap went undetected by the three sitting at the top of the table. mr buckton at the head, you to his left and then the captain and ghost next to you. opposite was mr sullivan, with gaz then soap next to him. with you all seated the meeting began.

for once the meeting was actually worth being held. despite it not being anything too serious you did well, even with your nerves. you answered questions and expanded in the points of others. as you suggested plans of action mr buckton steadily kept his eyes on you, while mr sullivan constantly scribbled notes down. soon enough the meeting was a breeze. well for about ten minutes. across from you, mr sullivan was very inquisitive about anything you said. asking you to back it up or to show proof. not thinking much of it you obliged. it was a little odd but you knew your stuff and why not show off infront of higher ups? however the sentiment was not shared with the rest of the 141. who even asked for evidence about evidence? they understood wanting clarification on certain things, but it was growing incessant now. you were capable of your job and they knew that - that's why you were there. price especially helped you in the growing awkwardness; his job had never been so easy with you working underneath him. gaz and soap constantly gave eachother questioning glances, not wanting to explicitly speak up if their captain didn't. ghost was pissed he couldn't hide his eyes rolling as well as his scowl behind his balaclava. although they were growing increasingly annoyed the meeting continued, with more ridiculous questions being asked. professionalism was continued with a grim expression for another twenty minutes or so. hardly.

until mr sullivan basically dislocated his back by stretching in his chair with an exaggerated yawn leaving his cavernous mouth. "thought you woulda brought coffee since you kept us waiting for so long, cant believe you didn't make me some fresh". with beady eyes on you he smiled lazily. oh he has to be joking you thought to yourself there's no way this guy is real. play them at their own game. "why would i make more coffee? i've already made some for myself" you smiled sickly back at him back, one that gaz has used on you many times when he's late giving you a report.

the table fell unusually silent again, and that's when you noticed it. the crackling of unease filling the air. sharp eyes from the 141 darted from eachother to you, to mr sullivan and back again. "don't be so mean, i'm literally a dying man" he snarkily replied, eyeing you coolly. "i have urgent needs that need to be taken care of, won't you help?". you felt your cheeks warm at his badly hidden innuendo. he smirked at this, finally affecting you after bugging you the whole bloody meeting. fuck impressing him he's an arsehole.

"well, i'm sure you'll be alright by yourself again. seems it happens a lot." you said back, indifferent. as soon as that left your mouth a strange sharp bark that hastily turned in to a cough came from soap. all heads from the table whipped to look at him. "pardon me" he shakily said with an awfully contained smile. taking a sip of his drink his watery eyes didn't stray from the blank wall above ghosts head.

"let's get back on track hmm?" mr buckton suggested "so cheeky, must be that time of the month". he turned to you with an eyebrow raised with an impish grin.

what. what the actual fuck.

price coughed uncomfortably and turned away. gaz and ghost looked at eachother in disbelief. and soap was finding that wall even more interesting. surely it could not get any worse

"oh you all know what women are like, don't pretend. especially when they're frustrated" mr buckton let out a giggle "you know from work".

you actually spluttered, eyes wide with disbelief. the feeling of unease in the air was now a full crackle of electricity. just as you felt price boiling with anger you grabbed me bucktons hand. if everyone on the table wasn't watching you, they certainly were now

"tell me" you said. mr buckton looked at you shocked, mouth gaping open. "tell me what women are like. you know i've been so airheaded this last week i hardly know my left from my right!". just to amp it up a little you slowly crossed your arms just underneath your chest, accentuating it. "you've explained so much to me this meeting surely you could explain this?"

the 141's eyes grew to the size of saucers, there's no way these two would actually fall for this? right? how are you getting away with this, they thought. at this point mr bucktons and mr sullivans jaws were practically falling off. the latter was sadly the quickest to start talking 'so, when women start-". a smart rap in the door interrupted. a male voice said seriously "emergency call for you mr buckton".

"oh, oh you must excuse us. i have to end this meeting" mr buckton declared "i simply cant miss this". messily shuffling their papers together both men swiftly said their goodbyes to you all. with that they just about made it out the door without tripping over their own legs.

a second passed after the door banged shut before gaz burst out in howls of laughter, clutching his ribs, soon joined by soap who could barely look at the wall for any longer. ghost stared at the door muttering who knows what under his breath and the captain sat there with his gaze fixated on the table mortified. he turned his head to you apologising profusely and asking if you're okay.

you just nodded vaguely and replied "men"

all likes, reblogs and comments are so appreciated!! this is my first time writing something properly so i hope you enjoyed it