#I really need this iron man helmet set man

[theworstcreature]

Going off to fight in a bloody battle (place a bid on eBay) with hopes only of saving the fair princess of our kingdom (a discontinued lego set) for she is held captive by the horrible emperor and his cruel knights (the seller)

[missmarveledsblog]

Flumpy part 2 ( jake seresin x reader)

SUMMARY : Y/N is settling well in miramar , even more so with the dagger squad bar one although after hearing a potential date taking shit  jake rushed to defend her while y/n rushes out the door  only to head into a worse state which bids the question is it too late .  

warning : this is an angsty chapter  mentions of character death as well as some violence and our girl gets into an accident , the some violence is only in defence  though and its fictional so let keep our hands to ourselves but also jake hitting someone for us 🥵🔥 

@harrysgothicbitch as promised 😎🖤

@djs8891 😊

First official day wasn't so nerve wrecking giving she spent her weekend with her new could she call them coworkers . She liked how got along with them well nearly all of them one she really couldn't stand one of them . hangman , at first she was going to tease him for the flumpy comment it wasn't that deep til she heard him talking at the food table on the beach and well that just killed any sort of base for a friendship . throwing on her overalls and her hair in a ponytail as grabbing her helmet she and set on her way not wanting to be late for her first official day . only to see a bronco parked outside her driveway .

" i got my ride roo or did daddy dearest send you" she batted her lashes only to see a blonde head of hair in the passenger seat. " well roo my dear boy get out of my dad's ass and follow me" she laughed lifting the garage door .

" i tell him same thing darling doesn't listen" jake flashed her a dazzling smiles only for her to not even pay attention .

" i got you a coffee" rooster offered .

" we got you a coffee" jake yelled .

" i'll grab it when we get there" she laughed closing the garage and driving off on the bike.

" why are you in my car again thought your truck was way better than my... then my what did you call it flintstone mobile" rooster walked to the driver side .

" i thought i'd give the flintstone mobile a go you know i'm doing this whole don't judge a book by it's cover" he smirked. " i judged it right this time" he added looking around missing his baby.

" you wanted to try get on y/n good side , bagman that woman will chew you up and spit you out before you even know it" .

" no woman could do that and you know it" jake scoffed.

" you taking a ride to base with me and getting her coffee" .

" yeah because i like being liked" .

" oh bagman you met your match" rooster chuckled as two set off .

She pulled up in the car park taking the helmet off her head , fixing her hair as phoenix walked up to her.

" you ride a motorcycle god can you get any hotter" .

" wanna be my backpack" she winked . " i don't know what that mean but i will" the woman laughed .

" well i'll explain it at lunch lets see if any more repairs are needed plus the hornet which i can tell is roo's well i need to look it over as well as the one behind it which i know is seresins" .

" please don't kill bagman i need you around" nat fake pouted.

" even if he's a dick well i can be professional at work plus i don't look good in orange" she sighed sadly.

" hey kid thought rooster was giving you a lift you know it being your first day...." .

" or you trying to get me not to ride my baby which is ironic cause who got me into them?" she arched her brow.

" yeah well you didn't join the navy" he countered thinking he was getting somewhere .

" whats my degree" she smirked. " thought so old man now stop your sexism is showing and not good in this day and age" .

" it's not sexism" he scoffed .

" so if rooster wanted to drive the bike you would be same right" she asked.

" of course not you know why i don't want you on it" he looked at her pointedly .

" well if that's the case then you can't fly in planes ,check mate mister , where are the locker rooms" she turned to nat who was standing slightly awkward at the exchange.

" this way you need to get your keys at the front first" .

" well discuss it later young lady" he called after them. " in your dreams old man" .

" hey shit guys wait up" rooster ran after trying to avoid looking Mav in the eyes after hearing some of their discussion .

" what was that about" jake asked.

" probably one of the worse time in our lives and not my story tell hangman" .

First day was done then the first week then the first month it went by in a flash . she found she really like the dagger squad could understand her father and rooster could like them , she liked wednesdays because her and fanboy played video games after work or working out with javy on thursday , tuesday she help payback with cooking so he could wow his wife and sunday were girls day with halo and phoenix saturdays were beach days and due to rent issue most nights where spent with bradley her new roommate also saturdays the torture before the beach a hike with rooster and hangman although they still weren't on speaking term hell she pretended he didn't exist and unless it was work related she didn't acknowledge him at all and it was driving jake seresin beyond mad . He watched how she would be with the squad , the smiles and affection that he secretly yearned for , the laugh of hers that drove him crazy .

he stopped with even taking girls home because last couple of times he did they left mad as bulls when he realised that he called them y/n . one woman who turned up and derailed his life and now he was stuck like a lovestruck wimp with a girl that wanted nothing to do with him and that was all completely new. But he never showed that , no he would put on the same old charm or pull her pigtails like they were kids on the playground . He would say something ,first she would well ignore him but he kept saying things til he eventually would get a response with even though wasn't good it was better then ignoring him .

" well if it ain't my favourite little handy woman" he called as she was taking inventory of what parts would be needed already done with the day.

" what can i do for you" she eyes checking over each tray.

" jet making weird noise again , starting to think you aren't looking after my jet properly darling" .

" oh bite me i take care of it like i do all the jets you just aren't careful with the flying machine all action and no finesse" she shot back tying the top part of her overalls around her waist knowing there was nothing damn wrong with the jet this was just one hangman's ways of torturing her .

" where is the location of the weird noise or is it you brain trying to work" she asked climbing up the ladder ready check over the engine and to see it was in tip top shape.

" my dear you wound me so i heard it promise cross my heart"he winked making her bite her tongue not wanting to sink to his level . she checked it over knowing she wasn't going find anything wrong with the jet , she check it only a couple of days ago when he said same thing . she check the wheel well only to see what exactly was the problem and one that hated her job .

" problem here is you got a dead bird in here and it's not my job to clean that out have fun"she smiled happily leaving him speechless looking up as feather fell out floated to the ground .

"hey y/n you got a minute" bob called out.

" course i do" she skipped as jake wished he ignore the weird sound . she as well as the other squad members watched as hangman began clearing the jet watching as the carcass felled down onto the ground as he gagged loudly . " least there will be no more weird noise huh bagman" she cackled.

He may of washed himself three or four times after the whole bird incident wanting to make sure he got the reminisce of it off his skin even though it didn't touch his skin knowing . he probably should of got a recruit to do it but nope he done it all himself. In his cleaning he didn't noticed the door open or the pitter patter of the sounds of feet on the cold tiled floors . it was when the sound of the shower and humming started , he knew who knew it was wondering why the hell she was using the base showers . " princess is lowering herself to using the peasant bathrooms huh" he called making the humming stop completely.

" peasant bathrooms really also i thought you were gone" she sighed .

" nope still getting bird off of me".

" well i need to get the grease and oil off me i meeting up with a friend after work" she almost sang.

" yeah i know we're all meeting at hard deck later" he rolled his eyes .

" different kind of friend but enjoy" he could almost hear the smile in her voice which annoyed him but another feeling was rising one he's never had when it came to women , almost new as turned the shower off leaving promptly . what was it about this one that had him so well fucked .

" yeah i got her to agree to go on date with me" the voice laughed .

" man you are one lucky son of a bitch" . it was like the world was against him now having to listen so prick to brag about getting the girl, getting his girl .

" yeah all i had to do was pretend to like the shit she did and boom eating out the palm of my hand , i don't know whether to hit it and quit it or do i carry it on i mean her dad's maverick so maybe i can get something out of" the sniffling little shit was about to say more but the rage that built up as he spoke well he didn't get a chance to speak when he found himself slammed against the wall with a seething hangman staring at him .

" woah hangman let him go" rooster rushed up .

" little prick you think you can use her" he growled pushing the man harder.

" wait what you talking about man" the mans voice shook .

" i heard it all hit and quit or use her for her daddy now we both know she too smart to fall for that , she probably didn't even fall for your crap , she probably felt bad for you but that still doesn't mean i shouldn't beat you into these tiles right here" .

" because he's not worth it just let him go jake" her voice sounded so broken behind him yet he did, he let the man go even though he wanted to beat the shit out of him .

" leave now while you have teeth"rooster snapped as they ran out of there .

" pretty girl?" rooster said but she quickly rushed off to get dressed and leave the base before they could get to her she was driving off clearly upset .

She felt stupid , she thought he actually liked her , she couldn't believe she felt for his shit . " idiot you fell for the easiest line in the book because ugh" she grumbled to herself feeling the tears start to build . " great now i crying" she laughed although muffled through her helmet .

checking around only seeing one car she nodded to pull over and he waved indicating for her to go ahead . she moved almost there and then she wasn't it was all so fast she was almost there. She was catapulted off the bike at first is was all in slow motion like time was moving at snail pace then the impact she hit the ground hard setting time back into motion . she could hear her bike scrapping along the gravel as well as her skin where her suit was ripped open . everything hurt no hurt was probably too minor to describe it , everything burned intensely as she looked up through the now cracked visor of her helmet and yet she couldn't move it was like something was holding her down in place.

" miss can you hear me , she not responding" a voice called . " she still breathing although it looks like she struggling , no i didn't touch her , she bleeding bad" the voice frantically called like he was talking to someone she couldn't hear.

" he just came out of no where at full speed , hit her off the bike please are they close ". she felt warm liquid coating her skin and burning was starting to dull . " yeah there's a visor on her helmet there i got it off , miss can you hear me , her eyes are open" . " her eyes are closing miss stay with me , god he came out of nowhere please hurry miss,miss" was the last thing she heard before it went quiet and everything went black.

They stood quiet , standing their usual spot waiting for a text or call she was ok .

" she isn't at home i checked already" rooster sighed something in his gut told him something bad was going on same one he got the day his dad died or when his mom got her diagnosis.

" maybe she needs time" nat said softly although she was itching to go out and look for her .

" she needs her friend and i've a bad feeling" rooster began pacing . Jake seresin well he was quiet , almost too quiet as he replayed it all from her face to the fact she called him jake . usually it wouldn't of meant so much if it wasn't her. She never used his name not even his surname it was always bagman or hangman maybe even cowboy but never jake.

" fuck it i'm going looking for her" rooster snapped the man from his own thought and instantly he was on his feet.

" i'll come with you" was all he said. Usually rooster would tease him , taunt that they would be using the bronco but no for some reason the look on jake seresins face was reason enough to keep it quiet and all he did was nod . they all walked out , standing talking about who was going with who til they heard it .

" fucking bitch had to be there man i was so close could of been balls deep now and buttering up captain mitchell " that pricks voice from across the car park . Not a second thought or the voice of reason from his friends to ignore it cause he saw red , full blown rage that had him barrelling across and punching the man square in the jaw . it was almost satisfying when his fist connected or when the prick hit the ground .

" what is your fucking problem asshole" .

" my problem is you , ya had the perfect woman and all you wanted was what she could give you , what she could benefit you not realising you had the best thing on this earth and you fucking took advantage of it , i hear you call her one more thing or they hear you in there well son a punch is gonna be last of you worries" he spat .

" she a chick man get over it acting like a crazy person over maverick bitch" he laughed the fucker laughed as jake went to dive on him only his friends pulled him back.

" she a force of fucking nature , smart and beautiful fucking woman , you lucky she even gave you time of day

. " hangman" rooster called.

" you don't hear what he's saying what he's calling her man" jake growled pushing out of his friends arms only for rooster to pulling back turning him around.

" hangman come on" he said again more almost gentle or something he couldn't quite place.

" nat no" was all they heard before the female pilot hit the man again only he went to hit back this time .

" not now rooster" jake gritte only for rooster took a hold the mans fist as the fucker actually looked scared.

" you get out of here not in there, he's right you say one bad thing about y/n in there you gonna get your ass beat " rooster pulled the men away sending them off with black eyes and bruised cheek .

" what the hell , did you hear them" jake snapped.

" jake we need to go hospital , there's been an accident . y/n hurt real bad" .

" come on lets go" he said leading him , nat and bob to his car . all again quiet once more.

The ride to the hospital was silent all wondering what bad truly was and all afraid to ask . in the space so short as a month she'd managed to worm her way into their hearts and now they hoped it wasn't end of what was going to be a beautiful friendship . jake felt ill hell he felt everything all in once but now more so fear and worry . it was all so much in so little time but one feeling he felt one he more , one he feared of feeling all these years and it could be too late.

" oh my" nat gasped turning their attention to the side of the rode . they saw it all the glass everywhere , blood pooled on the ground it didn't take a genius to connect the dots they knew . her bike still on the ground as the cops had the area closed off and her helmet thrown on the ground half haphazardly. " stop i'll meet you there" nat yelled already getting out of the car. " that bike is her baby i need to" was all she said .

" i'll go with her and get guys to bring us" bob said running after her.

" she right , that bike is here baby , she been driving them since she was sixteen , think that's her second one , the other one is in our garage she still cleans it takes it out. My mom was freaked when she got the first one i mean scared to death on it but mav would say she was go driver" he chuckled as they drove down the highway.

" thought he hated her on them".

"wasn't always that way ... shit mav probably freaked thinking history's repeating , look i said it wasn't my story to tell but fuck it , you know charlie blackwood her mom well she died when y/n was seventeen hit her hard during the whole thing well she needed space. sick of people giving their well wishes which i agree it's only so much of if you need me .. anyways she went on drive although that night it was raining from what we know she lost control on the road was real bad she ended up in a coma for couple months , they said she slim to none chance of full recovery and she beat those odd woke up all ok first thing she asked was her bike ok" he laughed as tears gathered in his eyes .

" she stubborn one huh but she fighter too so determined you know well of course you know your like her brother , she never lets anything go even when the guys talked down to her she showed them what was what probably how she had half the base on her side in matter of weeks, she's so smart too like brains for miles , it's cute to when you see her concentrating hard on something her little tongue poking out or that laugh not the fake one she gives cyclone to boost his ego but the real one that makes you wanna do more to keep it going" was like he couldn't stop talking it all falling out his mouth on it own free will as bradley smiled listening.

" sounds like a man in love to me , i mean i know i was young but reminds me of the way my dad would talk about my mom" .

" you hit your head chicken boy you sound crazy" jake quickly covered his track albeit not well .

" oh shut up man you know i'm right and me crazy you attack the same man twice for merely talking bad about her" rooster shook his head.

" that was hypocritical i mean come on i said same sort of shit first time with met i called her flumpy like she should of clocked my ass".

" well you do make shit first impression, i'll give you that is true but i've noticed a change in you since you met her , woman of hard deck are safe from your chat up lines , your not sleeping around like a dog and you've been trying to make it up to her since the beach. Yeah you tease her but thats your love language or what ever amelia says . all i'm saying is you got time to turn it around" rooster explained all so easily like he knew something more then he was letting on and maybe he did .

" do i though?" jake ask crashing them back to reality knowing it might not be a chance. He hope rooster was right , he hoped he could make things right and he hoped it wasn't too late . 

Part three

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

(SbITILYP request) I wonder what hiccup thinks about his dad burning holes into the back of the girl he has a crush on's head. Maybe Hiccup would try to apologize for it afterwards. + the almost-kissing-her thing

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 21

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 2,700

Hiccup gets better at this romance thing.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Dragons: Defenders of Berk, Fright of Passage, post episode, Hiccup’s POV

<Previous - Next>

The incident with the Flightmare took up a lot of time and energy and after how quickly you’d fled once Thornado had landed back on Berk, he hadn’t seen you much at all, much less had time to talk to you.

He shifted on the short wooden bench, the unsanded grit of its surface and the uneven length of its legs causing it to feel odd and off balance as he shifted over it.

Hiccup glanced past the metal framing holding up an empty, crusted pot over the fire, whose heat was licking at his calves beneath his trousers and flickering against the majority of his torso.

He clutched a small, oblong glass shape as he glared forwards, cool against his skin through the fabric of his tunic, hidden away by his vest, securely stored in a secret pocket he’d sewed in for specifically this purpose.

The bioluminescent algae seemed to have been lost, for the most part.

The others had been a bit shifty around him, in a way that was more shifty than malicious. He had the sinking suspicion that they might’ve caught on to his little crush.

The heavy beating of boot and peg against old wooden floors. It was really ironic that the Chiefs; hut was the only one that hadn’t been burned on the regular. His Dad was very attentive towards his house.

His Dad’s face was set and shoulders hunched, a remnant from earlier when he had been awkwardly tending to his own meal.

Hiccup’s own face was slightly sour. He was still mad at his Dad for… everything.

Both Hiccup and Stoick ignored the sound of clattering dishes in the background.

Stoick grumbled as Hiccup’s expression turned just a bit scowlier, sitting in his large wooden chair which sometimes seemed yet as if it couldn’t hold every bit of him, across the fire pit from Hiccup, who had a bowl in his lap and was sitting in quite the hunched manner, “You like the… Delivery girl.”

“You know her?” Hiccup asked nervously, pulling at his tunic collar.

Stoick shifted, his brown fur cloak spilling over the arms of his chair.

“He has the lass come up here and clean around sometimes!” Gobber said, rifling around in one of the chests lining the wall, the horns of his helmet clattering against mounted shields and other sharp weapons and he turned carelessly, arms wide,

“What?!” Hiccup asked, voice pitch nearly at a screech.

He was scared immediately that you’d seen smoke things you shouldn't've. What had you seen?

Hiccup took a moment to pause and bring his voice down, maybe a bit deeper than it needed to be, even as his heart rate picked up.

“If you want ‘er, Ye need tae sweep her off her feet!” Gobber clapped Hiccup hard on the place shoulder met back, causing Hiccup to stumble forward as the big man swept his other arm outwards.

He grimaced.

He’d already been doing a good amount of sweeping. He doubted anyone would take well to being accosted in the way Gobber described. What did Gobber know about women, anyways?

He should put on his red tunic, though.

Hiccup was very attracted to that idea.

Oh, Gods, he really hoped you hadn’t seen too much.

“...Hey,” Hiccup said, looking at you, as always, basket in hand. A woven one this time, made of long grasses that brushed and scraped along the sides of your skirt.

He was sort of impressed with himself, and the fact that he hadn’t fumbled over anything at all yet.

You weren’t looking him in the eye at all, which meant he had definitely totally completely messed up.

“Hi,” You responded, voice pitched so he could tell you were nearly squeaking.

It only took a few days. That might have been to the effect of all the stuff he’d dumped in it, too.

The Flightmare left tracks, and from what little he could salvage- the spare scale, which was nearly translucent upon detachment, and some slime he picked up from some of the more plant-like dragons, he ended up being able to speed up the growth 

He’d… Nabbed some of Fishlegs’ notes for that. He wouldn’t mind. Hopefully.

Hiccup had lent him Toothless for the day, after all, albeit with more grump than was probably appropriate. 

The dragon seemed alright with it, too, ready to show off his tail, a sparking nadder blue, his replacement after the red one had been ripped back on Fireworm island.

Hiccup palmed the vial in his pocket, “I, ah…”

As an apology, he’d found someone willing to bring in some rose bushes. It took a lot, but it was worth it. For you, that was. He got some others in on it, though of course he never told them why. They didn’t have the bushes yet, but soon.

For the person you were, to him, even if you didn’t get it yet.

And he’d done something else, too.

He was going to try surprising you with it. Or not. 

He was worried he might scare you off.

“Sorry,” He started, “About my Dad. He’s just-Well, he’s…”

You shrugged balefully, “I get it? I’m not-...”

“Right,” Hiccup nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

It was silent for a few long moments.

You were both standing by the bridge out into the forest, the clear ends around it lined by trees, freshly planted.

At this point, the two of you had to have been experts in deciphering stutters and half-spoken words.

He could kill a large dragon and win over Astrid, but he couldn’t talk to you at all. He didn’t have the courage. Or, maybe it wasn’t about courage.

Hiccup wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t shy. 

He did stupid things all the time.

There was just something about you, or maybe something about him, that kept most things from coming out right. That made him just a little bit nervous. 

“I-well, I wanted to say sorry. Would you be fine following me for a bit?”

You paused for a second

“Just… Come on,” He said, somewhat hesitantly. He was sure by then his face was blotchy with flush, “It’s in the woods. Is that…?”

You nodded.

Hiccup held in a sigh of relief, “Alright. Well, then…”

Back in the village, it looked like a few vikings had taken to terraforming Berk, though you had no idea why. 

You weren’t sure where Toothless was. Probably… Off, 

Maybe they were inspired, you had no clue. Something about bushes or brushes or something and house paint.

You nearly tripped over a particularly large, gnarled root as you moved past Hiccup, holding aside a branch with leaves, half expecting to get murdered, or something. That’s what he brought you out into the woods for, right?

This was a particularly dark part of the forest, packed with leaves and moss in a way no spot on Berk had been before the Red Death had been defeated, with all the dragons burning most of everything down. 

It had already been darkening by the time Hiccup had asked you to follow, and though Hiccup had long since ceased to weird you out at all, the thoughts came unbidden.

You took a few steps forwards, shuffling slightly, looking around at the world, washed over with a blue filter, and at the vines crawling up the trees, before you paused, taking notice of a light, bright and gentle and nearly not there glowing against mottled bark.

You looked down, and then your eyes widened slightly.

You weren’t sure how you missed it, but below, there was a pool.

You stared down at it, glowing and dark under the canopy of the leaves above.

“So, what do you think?”

You heard Hiccup asked from behind you, his own boot and prosthetic shuffling against packed, fallen leaves and damp mulch.

Your face felt hot in a tingling, bright way as you stared down into the slowly moving water.

Was this all from the Flightmare?

It was something you might’ve seen in the news in the foreseen future, the same type of glow you’d see lurking inside a glow stick.

“Oh,” You said. You’d heard about it and you were sure all of the glowing algae had been washed out to sea. 

“I was hoping you’d like it,” Hiccup said hesitantly, “Do you?”

Your heart felt like it was on fire too, in the way that it only could when butterflies and bugs and other flighty, flippant nerve things were preening around in your organs.

Maybe Hiccup did like you, after all.

“Wow,” You stumbled forwards a few more feet until you were overlooking a small dirt ledge which had to be at least a yard tall, held together by roots and sticks and other dead plants. 

It overlooked the rest of the pond by a little bit, overseeing edges kept aloft in quite a similar fashion, like one of those deep, neverending kinds of pools made of a beautiful blue with no bottom, toeing the line between dangerous and beautiful that most people would only ever lay eyes on in photos. 

In this moment, perhaps heightened by the mood and atmosphere, everything felt a bit softer. You were sure the light of the pool was glittering back through your eyes, chest light and full of wonder and awe.

You said nothing yet, awkwardly turning so that your back hit the sturdy trunk of a large tree, sliding down slowly and displacing moss until you were sitting down against the uneven, steep packed, large roots of a tree, moss tickling your back through your shirt.

You felt like you might slide down into it if you loosened your legs just a bit from where they kept you steady, braced against moss and dirt. 

Small flecks of dirt tumbled down into the pool under them, hitting ferns and the occasional fungus, mushrooms that looked as if they’d just bud, hinting at a similar glow to the bright light of the pool as toes of your boots played a risky game with the dirt ledge over the pond.

“So... A good apology, all things considered?” He prompted. 

You nearly forgot about Hiccup, still standing by the streeline, which was, admittedly, also very close by the water. 

You brought your knees up to your chin, which you rested on top of your elbows, your cheeks feeling warm as you smiled into them, not in the hot way they had been just a moment before, but with a soft feeling that came from deep in your chest, feeling a lot like a crackling fire in the heart or the smell of a warm cup of cocoa, fluffy white marshmallows floating along the top.

You didn’t look over, but the hairs of your neck, which were standing, and a tickling in the corner of your still focused eye told you Hiccup was watching you. 

You wondered what his expression looked like. Was it fond, or goofy, or blank?

Did he feel anything at all at the sight? 

Had he really done this all for you?

The water rippled and the algae grew brighter as it did. There was a light dusting of blue foam across the surface and if you looked ever so slightly you could spot the occasional speck of something swimming around in the water, though you were sure it was too small to be a fish.

A sea monkey? A bug? A glowing speck?

You were certain it was not safe to swim in, but it was unbelievably gorgeous, framed by dipping and swaying ferns in the near complete darkness.

“Yeah,” You said mumbling into your elbow, noticing in your periphery as Hiccup moved forwards to stand by your side, “Yeah, I think so.”

You felt the hesitant dusting of a few fingers against your shoulder before they disappeared, twitching away and displacing the air by your ears, the feel of them there and gone causing all the hairs along your arm and neck to stand on end.

You found yourself tilting your head away from the touch, hiding the bashful flush of your face as Hiccup spoke again, “I also… I got you something else, too.”

You delicately took what was offered by a careful hand and held up the vial, smooth, clean and cool between your fingertips, a liquid inside glowing in a similar fashion to the pool in front of you and the mystical blue-washed world around.

Hiccup definitely wasn’t the type of guy to be able to keep something so clean- everything he had -books, blankets, papers, the occasional crafter compass for trade- they were all smudged by soot or the oil of skin and at the very least slightly folded in corners.

Against all odds, though, there it was. He must’ve taken great care with it.

You looked up at him.

You were sure you’d imagined it, because things like that didn’t happen in reality, and definitely not on the faces turned cartoon and whimsy to real and solid and in full, real life, completely discernable human graphic definition, but that glowing, sparkly feeling you were certain he clouds see plain as day- you felt fresh, believing for just a moment you could see it in his eyes too.

Hiccup’s head was in the clouds, his cheeks buzzing in a pleasant way, traveling up to his ears in a way that almost made him want to rub them, warm and heady and tingling in a way that was slightly ticklish.

His shoulder brushed against yours, your pinky fingers brushing together, slightly hooked, mimicking earlier when his fingers teased your palm in the imitation of a hold as the two of you walked back from the woods.

“Is it fine if we…” Your fingers came together again, the two of you turning to each other once the sound of boots and peg against wood turned into the softer, more muffled sound of weights padding against dirt.

Hiccup didn’t know he had it in him, but it was less an action made by choice and more led by an automatic zone, a feeling for what came next brought on by feeling and comfortability influenced by the ambiance, though that wasn’t to say he himself felt casual about it at all. 

Your hands were slightly shaky.

His heart was rocketing the whole time, blood pumping and beating in his eardrums.

“Separate?” Hiccup finished as you glanced off towards the darkened village, resisting the urge to shiver as a cool breeze blew by, fit to match the now dark sky, coming in from the side of him that faced the woods. 

On the other, closer to his back he noticed a very faint yellow light, warm and emanating from where he suspected the stairs to the hall lay, within which the larger half of Berk was most likely pulling together their nightly meal.

“You’ll be… fine?” He asked, breath nearly stuttering as the two of you tilted his head forwards, your foreheads so close they were nearly touching, “You can still- You can have my coat, still.”

“It’s okay,” You said, the focus of your eyes flickering from down by your hands to his face, before your hands separated.

“Thanks,” You said simply, before turning and walking forwards a few feet, a cool breeze causing your skirt to wave.

You glanced back as you left, unsure as if you were subconsciously asking if it was okay for you to leave.

Hiccup thought his legs might give out.

The night breeze was extra cold on Hiccup’s hands and back as he watched you go, though the warm, glowing feeling in his chest remained, moving down into the village, disappearing into the dark maze of alleys and open halls.

He was a night owl, as most of Berk tended to be after years of nightly raids. 

He wouldn’t be sleeping. 

He could work on blueprints for the sewage system. That was a whole project in and of itself. But with the tunnels below the village and all the dragon power they had in Berk, it might’ve just been doable. 

But as he stared out into the still quiet of the empty village, he realized he’d probably just be thinking about you instead.

[infiniteeight8]

Ironstrange identity reveal? I was reading Spy x Family when I thought of this, so that's the background/setting I was thinking of initially, but it can definitely be a superhero thing too. Or whatever other idea pops into your head. I'm always excited to see what you come up with!

I read the top of the wikipedia entry for Spy x Family, but that setup is not working for me here, so instead we’re going with some classic “Iron Man is Tony Stark’s bodyguard” shenanigans. 😀

Uh, this got… more than a little out of hand. This has many themes in common with other drabbles, but now it’s 1360 words long. Enjoy?

Under the read more for length.

-

Tony stares stubbornly at Steve, who is rubbing his eyes with the kind of exhausted exasperation that has become his hallmark around Iron Man.

“Iron Man, you were unconscious,” Steve says. “After being electrocuted. You need a real medical check.”

“The armor has medical sensors,” Tony insists. “It says I’m fine. I can answer questions for a neurological exam. That’ll have to be good enough.”

Steve gets that stubborn look on his face. The one that no one wins against. Fuck. “You’re benched until you get a real medical check.”

“How about if I get checked out in my civilian identity?” Tony suggests.

“We have no way of verifying that you’ve done that,” Steve says. “And while I hate to say you’d lie, I can’t dismiss the possibility after this conversation. I understand your hesitation about revealing your identity, but your life is at stake.”

“It’s really not,” Tony mutters. He’s fine. But he can tell that Steve isn’t going to budge on this, and he wants to be off the bench sooner rather than later. “Fine. Call Strange, then.”

Steve’s eyebrows go up. “Doctor Strange? He’s not a practicing physician.”

“He’s kept his certifications, though.”

“And he hates you.”

Stephen hates Iron Man. He’s quite fond of Tony Stark, though. They’re… friends. He’s asked Tony on half a dozen dates, which Tony has been forced to turn down because he refuses to lie about something as important as Iron Man to someone he’s dating. It’s made for a lonely couple of years. At least if he has to reveal his identity to someone, he might get a date out of it. If Stephen forgives him for lying. If he can get past Tony Stark being an Avenger in general (apparently they make a lot of work for the sorcerers; something about the barriers between dimensions) and Iron Man in specific, who he’s always hated the most. 

“Then you’ll know he’s being honest when he clears me,” is all Tony says aloud.

Steve still looks baffled, but he makes the call.

Tony’s expecting Stephen to be angry when he arrives. He may keep his medical certifications up to date, but he doesn’t work as a doctor and he’s sure as hell not on call for the Avengers. But when he arrives he’s crisply professional, if frosty. He’s even wearing a lab coat over street clothes. He locks the exam room door behind him, which would be odd except that he follows it up with, “Armor off.” Tony hesitates. Stephen’s expression tightens. “Captain Rogers indicated you were willing to be examined,” he says sharply.

“This is kind of a big deal,” Tony snaps. “There is literally no one living that knows who I am.”

Stephen blinks. “Surely Tony knows.”

Tony sighs. “Yeah. About that.” He issues the command, and the helmet retracts. 

Stephen stares. And stares. And there it is. There’s the anger. “You utter fucking idiot!” He shouts. “What the hell are you doing risking your life in that goddamned tin can?! Don’t you know what a catastrophic loss it would be if you died out there?”

Okay, Stephen is yelling, but it seems like… good yelling? “I’m saving people,” Tony argues.

“You save plenty of people as Tony Stark!” Thank God the soundproofing in this place is spectacular; Stephen doesn’t lower his voice one bit. “So why do you insist on ruining your own life with this, this,” he waves his hand inarticulately at the armor still covering Tony to the neck, “bullshit.”

Okay, that’s enough. “Iron Man is not ruining my life! It’s the best thing I’ve ever done!”

Stephen's expression shifts from furious to incredulous. “The best thing?” he demands. “The best thing? What about the 100 million dollar donation to spinal cord research? The Foundation that helps people rebuild after things like alien invasions when their insurance won’t? What about the shield you invented that makes it possible for people with sensitive implants to get an MRI safely, or the modular smartphone that doesn’t need to be replaced every two years? What about the scholarships you’ve endowed?”

“Stephen—”

“Are those not big enough in scale?” Stephen demands. “How about the clean energy technology that looks like it might stop global warming in its tracks? Is that enough? Is one planet not enough? Do we need to talk about the international collaboration that you started to combine Earth’s resources with alien technology to turn us into an interstellar civilization before another interstellar civilization can dismiss us as barbarians—”

“I’m not the one who decided none of that counted!” Tony shouted over Stephen. It stops the tirade, at least. Tony blows out a hard breath. “The guy who donates the 100 million dollars isn’t the hero,” he goes on. “That’s the guy who makes the discovery. The Foundation isn’t celebrated for the people it helps, it’s critiqued for the ones it doesn’t. The MRI shield, the smartphone… people like them, but they’re advances that ‘were always coming’. Or maybe ‘were overdue’. That doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing. Of course they’re worth doing.” Tony retracts a gauntlet and rubs a hand over his face. God, he’s tired. “I just… I wanted to be the hero for once,” he admits. It sounds so fucking selfish. “Tony Stark could never do enough. It always had to be about the money for them, even when it really wasn’t about the money for me. But Iron Man… No one wonders what his ulterior motive is when he does something good. They just cheer.”

Stephen sighs and hitches himself up onto the medical bed next to Tony. “Do you know why I hated Iron Man so much?”

Tony grimaces. “I always figured he was just too… blunt instrument for you.”

Stephen snorts. “Hulk and Cap are far more blunt,” he says. “Iron Man at least has precision weapons to go with the punches. No. I hated Iron Man because when the suit failed somehow Tony got the blame, but when it worked, Iron Man got the credit. Iron Man made everything you just explained worse, not better.”

There’s not really a counter argument for that. It’s true. Except, “Nothing was going to make that better,” Tony says. “Nothing could. Not until I’m dead, anyway.” He half expects Stephen to go right back to haranguing him for risking his life. 

“Speaking of which, I’m meant to be making sure you’re not dying now,” Stephen says. He stands and moves to face Tony. “Come on. Get the rest of the armor off.”

Tony obliges, and they proceed with the rest of the exam in silence. 

Near the end, Tony looks over Stephen’s shoulder rather than meet his eyes and says, quietly, “I’m not going to stop.”

“My initial reaction aside,” Stephen answers, just as soft, “I never thought you would. I know as well as anyone how this life becomes a part of you.” When he finishes the exam, he steps back. “You’re fine.” 

Tony nods and puts the armor back on. It’s never been so quiet between them before. His chest aches.

When he’s got everything but the helmet back on, Stephen stops him. “Is this why you always said no when I asked you out?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Didn’t seem right to lie like that to my partner.”

“Right.” Stephen nods firmly. “So will you go out with me now?”

Tony perks up. “You still want to?”

Stephen gives him a look. “You have not had a personality transplant,” he says dryly. “So yes, I still want to.”

Do not push your luck, Tony tells himself. He says it anyway, “Thought the lying might be a bigger deal.”

“Everyone keeps secrets,” Stephen says. “But the secrets that a friend will accept are different from the secrets that a partner will accept. You’ve already demonstrated that you understand that.” Tony grins and Stephen shoots him a look. “We will, however, be having words about you assuming I’d react like anyone else in your life.”

Tony swallows a laugh. “Of course,” he says. “I should have known you’d be exceptional.” 

“And don’t forget it,” Stephen says, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden-Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 5)

WARNINGS: None

Word Count: 8k

—————

Tywin Lannister had never been much of an artistic man, but he certainly did have quite the design envisioned for a new set of armor, and there was only one person he knew who was in need of it. He told himself it had nothing to do with you seeing him as insufferable, it was just him paying back a debt. Though, if he really thought about it, he’d already paid it back plenty. 

Either way, he felt unsatisfied by the last interaction he’d had with you, and hoped this could be his silent apology. That was how he found himself standing in the smiths right as it opened. 

“Lord Hand, how can I help you?” The head smith questioned, adjusting his apron and greeting Lord Tywin with a friendly smile. The Old Lion gave him a respectful nod of the head in return. 

“I’d like to request a set of armor, something with fine details.”

“Lions? I’ve done plenty of those for His Grace.”

“No, not something for a Lannister. I’d like a flower pattern on it, roses, perhaps.”

“I see, and is there anything else specifically you want on it?”

“Yes, add some vines with thorns, and add round berries with star shaped leaves. Here are the measurements for everything,” Lord Tywin explained, having considered that the Nightshade of the Garden ought to have actual nightshade on her armor. He handed the smith a roll of parchment with numbers written down, and he was grateful that your armor had been kept after the healers removed it.

The smith observed the paper, eyebrows raising in a questioning manner. Either this was one small lad, or the set wasn’t for a man at all.

“This set for a woman or something?” he wondered aloud, folding the paper and shoving it into his pocket for later. He glanced up at the Old Lion, who was quite a few inches taller.

“Yes, it is. For the eldest Tyrell daughter,” Lord Tywin answered casually, reaching into his own pocket and taking out a small bag. He might’ve given it to the smith, but the man seemed to be in shock.

“For the Nightshade of the Garden?” he asked, gaping more than just a little bit. Lord Tywin straightened and nodded. He found his upper lip twitching. Why did everyone make such a damned big deal out of you? He wished they could know that you were really just a rude, disrespectful girl who’d had everything handed to her. You had no idea what it took to build an entire house up from ruins. Not like he did.

Although, he had to remind himself that he was currently at the smith because of you. Even despite the ‘opinions’ he told himself he held about you, he still wished to somewhat make amends. He would do anything to make you more bearable, that was all.

“Yes, that is what they call her. Outline the designs with gold, too. I meant to ask earlier, do you think you could fashion a crown of roses on the helmet?” 

“Of course, m’lord. Will you want that done in gold too?”

“No, make them with iron and use these jewels as the petals. Work them into the iron, and detail the roses with gold however you do it on the breastplate.”

“Yes, m’lord.”

Lord Tywin finally handed the head smith the bag from his pocket, which was filled with jewels that he’d had imported from all around. They were perfect in quality, and he could already picture them shining as you fought. 

“If you have it done in three days, I’ll double the amount that you’re owed.”

“Thank you, my Lord Hand.”

Lord Tywin merely nodded and grumbled an acknowledgment before leaving. He hoped that the man would be competent enough to get it done so quickly. Did your armor set need to be finished by the ceremony? No, but Lord Tywin certainly hoped it would be so that he could have it placed on your armor stand while it was happening.

Lady Olenna had mentioned briefly to him that you desired new armor after losing your old set, and naturally he knew you would not be individually granted anything for your efforts in battle, even if you’d fought braver than any man. The responsibility fell to him, then. He was not nearly as upset or annoyed as he suspected he would be about it. In fact, he felt neither of those things in any capacity.

Perhaps this was exactly what you’d suggested to him: compassion.

—————

The ceremony was going to be larger and far more grand than it should have been. More than anything, it was there to showcase ‘the Boy King,’ and his valiant efforts to save the city. Well, the still relatively fresh wound up my side could testify otherwise. 

Either way, both my grandmother and I had spent the entire week trying to fight Loras and Margaery, discouraging her from making the request to marry Joffrey. It would be better to wait until we’d found more out. But Margaery, like always, was relentless and insisted that such a declaration ought to be made in front of a crowd. She was right of course, it would be better to spring that question upon them without any time to think, but the idea of her ending up with some sort of monster made me nervous. Nothing in all seven hells would ever possess me to let my sister be put in any sort of danger, not even a crown.

However, breakfast with my grandmother did help to ease my nerves. She was always perfectly distracting, and I’d been grateful for her company during the last week or so. I’d been healing quickly, but only by remaining in bed most of the day, and she had kept me from going utterly insane. 

The maesters agreed that I was good to walk now, but they insisted that I only do so with the assistance of a cane. As degrading as it was, I had taken their advice. I supposed the embarrassment was worth not being in quite as much pain and being able to walk about. I only prayed that the ceremony wouldn’t be too long, because I was still having a hard time standing for long periods of time. 

“Grandmother, if this wound doesn’t heal soon I’m going to go mad. I’m sick of this cane, and I miss practicing every morning. I haven’t even picked up a sword since the battle,” I noted bitterly, popping a grape into my mouth and sighing as I chewed. More than anything I wanted to practice, more for fun than actual training. There really wasn’t much left for me to learn, I’d already perfected some of the most difficult moves, but I still valued it for strength and stamina purposes. 

“Well, you’ve been healing fairly quickly. Hopefully you manage not to do something stupid for once, and perhaps you’ll be able to carefully practice in two or three weeks. That is what the maesters said, at any rate. In the meantime, I’ll speak to Lord Varys about finding someone acceptable for you to fight,” my grandmother said, making my eyebrows raise with surprise. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of finally being able to do what I wished again. Though, the last sentiment confused me a bit.

“Why can’t I just fight Loras?”

“You make him self conscious, dear.”

I couldn’t hold back a laugh, and I only shook my head at my grandmother as I raised a piece of bread to my lips. I didn’t know what Loras was complaining about, it’s not as if he hadn’t defeated Jaime Lannister in jousting. That was something I allowed him to be better at, because luckily for him I had zero interest in jousting whatsoever. But yes, I was obviously better with a sword, which made quite a lot of sense given that I did not spend my free time swallowing them. 

“What are you wearing to the ceremony, (Y/N)?”

“I haven’t decided yet, grandmother. Why?”

“May I make a recommendation?” She asked, to which I raised an eyebrow and nodded. I wondered what was on her mind, for normally she couldn’t have cared less what any of us wore. We were all quite fashionable, even if Margaery and I wore dresses that were perhaps a bit more revealing than usual. Highgarden had a warm climate, could we really be blamed? 

My grandmother rose from the table, and I watched her wander over to my wardrobe. She opened it up, seemingly looking for a specific garment as she sifted through my various dresses. 

“Here, wear this one, given that your scar will do alright with it,” she said, pulling out a cream colored dress with small red roses scattered across it. I raised a curious eyebrow at her, wondering what was so special. I honestly hadn’t even realized I owned that dress; usually I just wore green or blue.

“The second set of stitches stayed well, I haven’t had a problem with clothes. Why that one? I can’t see anything particularly special about it.”

My grandmother only smiled, bringing it over to me.

“With some gold jewelry, this dress will serve to make a statement about—and solidify—your alliance with the Lannisters,” she explained, putting a hand out to silence me when she saw my face twist in disgust and annoyance. Either way, I still had to voice my opinion.

“No, grandmother. Lord Tywin would think it too great a compliment, and the last thing I need is to add to his impossibly large ego,” I said, refusing to entertain the concept. My grandmother only laughed.

“It’s almost as big as yours! Dear girl, Lord Tywin won’t notice, nor will he care. One thing about men is that they will never notice things they’re not looking for, trust me I know. The dress will stand out to the women present, and they will mention it to their husbands. Some civility towards House Lannister would go a long way, especially as your disdain for Lord Tywin has become more and more apparent to people at court,” she said, laying the dress across my lap. That gossip had already begun to spread did not surprise me, especially since plenty of people already knew I did not like Lord Tywin. If anything, it satisfied me to know that my contempt for him was a conversational topic. Yes, let them know how deep my hatred for him was. Anyone who crossed me was next.

“Grandmother-“

“Please, (Y/N). You can take it off and burn it the second the ceremony is done for all I care, but if Margaery is set on becoming queen, our relationship with their family must improve. And I won’t criticize you for disliking Tywin Lannister, you’ve certainly got a right to, but you need to stop letting it be so obvious,” my grandmother attempted to reason. I only sighed. It was so frustrating to have to adjust my behavior with no repercussions for Lord Tywin. He was the one making our relationship difficult, after all.

“I can’t help it when he aggravates me, grandmother, but I’ll wear the dress if it pleases you. I suppose it’s not entirely red.”

“Yes it does please me, thank you very much.”

I scoffed, laughing at my grandmother's satisfied smile. She was certainly called the Queen of Thorns for a reason, and I knew for a fact that she was where I’d gotten my determination and intellect from. It had seemingly skipped a generation.

“You know, (Y/N), from all you’ve said, it seems that Lord Tywin has been aggravating you less than usual. He saved your life, helped you back to your room when your stitches split, and most impressively, he’s tolerated your stubborn behavior,” my grandmother pointed out suddenly, having seemingly considered the subject. I only scoffed.

“And what of it? He wants my bannermen, grandmother. He’s not stupid.”

“Yes, but he’s not a man that commonly accepts disrespect from anyone, and I think you enjoy knowing you can get away with more than usual,” she noted, sitting back down in her chair and taking a sip of wine. I had opted for water, but I supposed that I made her need it. 

I only laughed, shaking my head at her. My grandmother certainly had delusions, and I could see even more of them developing in her head as she looked around and observed the room. “He certainly gave you quite nice chambers.”

“He said it had the least amount of stairs, and given how hard it is to walk, I am grateful for it,” I said, sighing out. At least he had done that much for me. I looked the room over again and glanced at the empty armor stand in the corner. Something had suddenly come back to mind.

“Grandmother, did I tell you what I obtained during the battle?” I asked, grinning and gripping the arms of my chair in preparation. She only gave me an unamused look and huffed out.

“Besides a large wound, no.”

I laughed softly, getting up slowly and walking over to the chest besides the armor stand. It took me a bit, but when I finally got there I opened it and reached in. I grabbed my occupied sword belt and removed the sheathed weapon. 

In an almost godlike fashion, the Valyrian steel gleamed in the sunlight coming from the window, and I saw my grandmother's eyes widen. I wondered if she’d ever seen such a blade before.

“Is that Valyrian steel?”

“It most certainly is. The man that nearly killed me cut through my armor with it. When Lord Tywin killed him I grabbed it,” I said, twirling it in my hand. It caused minor discomfort to my side, but I was glad I could still do it. Maybe I wouldn’t even need two weeks.

“Be careful, (Y/N),” she warned, though I could still see that there was a sort of curiosity in her eyes. Even my grandmother was enamored by the weapon, for how could she not be? House Tyrell had a Valyrian steel sword now, and a bold woman to wield it.

“Oh I know, but I can’t seem to get over it. It’s beautiful. Of course, I intend to change the handle, perhaps something with a flowery design. Though, I’ll need to find a smith. I imagine that all the smiths who know how to mend Valyrian steel are in Essos, unfortunately,” I reasoned, gazing at the dark handle with gold accents. It didn’t suit me, and in addition to that, the sword was far too big for me to actually use in battle. I’d most likely have some of it melted down and turned into a dagger. 

“Well, let me see it when you’re done, I’m sure it’ll be very pretty. I trust you know not to tell people,” my grandmother said, to which I nodded. Only someone stupid would reveal that sort of thing to people they didn’t truly trust. To have a Valyrian steel sword was not a subtle brag.

“Now, put the sword away and finish your breakfast. You’ll be late to the ceremony otherwise,” she urged, to which I nodded. I sheathed it once again, though it made me somewhat sad to do so. The weapon was mine now, and all I wanted to do was watch it split a man in two. I would need to think of a name.

“I think I’m done with my food, I’ll dress now so that Cerella has more time to do my hair.”

“Is that your chambermaid?”

“Yes, she is.”

My grandmother nodded, getting up from her seat once more to help me put on the dress she’d selected. It certainly was a hassle to now require help dressing myself every morning, and I was grateful for my grandmother and sister now more than ever. Yes, I could have had Cerella help me, but I was accustomed to dressing myself besides tying strings, and it was less humiliating to have the help of family. 

“Oh (Y/N), how do you plan on marrying and having children if you can’t even dress in front of a maid,” grandmother chided, sighing slightly as she tied the back. 

“Well, I should certainly hope to be familiar with the man I choose to marry, if I choose to marry. And in all honesty, the prospect of children is frightening to me,” I admitted, gazing at myself in the mirror. At least the dress was flattering, even if it represented a house that I did not wish to associate with. Plus, it at least distracted me from the fact that I probably would not be able to choose. My father would decide both of those things for me, I expected. 

“Oh?”

“Well, grandmother, what if- what if I’m deemed weak during and after my pregnancy? I certainly can’t lead an army while bearing a child, and after the thing is born I’ll be expected to raise it. Loras would immediately be given my title,” I explained, turning to face her as she finished the last of the ribbon. 

“My dear, it’s also entirely possible you won’t have children.”

“But the Tyrell legacy-“

“You’ve done more than enough for it, even if your father won’t admit such a thing. You were responsible for our involvement in the Greyjoy Rebellion, and you’re responsible for our victory at Blackwater. If you feel quite adamant about not having children, dearest, then leave it to your siblings. They’ll figure it out,” she assured me, hands cupping my face. I nodded hesitantly, and she pressed a kiss to my forehead. I could not resist the urge to embrace my grandmother, and I felt extremely grateful for her guidance. She was the only person that would ever tell me I was not bound to have kids.

“Do not give up your dreams and wishes in exchange for a husband and children, dear girl. Men are quite stupid, and grandchildren have proved far more rewarding than actual children. I would rather see you succeed, (Y/N). If you should find a suitable man to marry, then I would of course encourage you, but do not worry yourself with it. Marriage never landed anybody in a history book, and if it did, it wasn’t for anything good,” grandmother said, smiling at me. I nodded, pulling away from her and reflecting on what she’d said. 

I pondered what I would prefer: to die with family surrounding me, or to live on forever in the ink of a book. I supposed I would find out.

—————

The great hall was making me miserable. The ceremony hadn’t started yet, and in its place was the sharp chatter of every noble in Westeros—or so it seemed. Thankfully, every group my grandmother had introduced me to was far more entertained by her, and only seemed shocked or disturbed when I mentioned what had happened at the Battle of Blackwater. It made me feel that perhaps I should stop mentioning it, and further impressed upon me the fact that I was not going to have any true friends here.

Meanwhile, I continued to catch Loras and Margaery chatting from the corner of my eye, and I knew what was to come today. It was almost comical. Loras would ask the king to wed his sister, and in the rare chance that I should be granted anything for my efforts, I would simply ask for a new pair of armor to replace that which had been destroyed. They did have quite a lot of talented smiths in King's Landing, anyway. 

I was distracted by these thoughts, however, when the entire crowd grew quiet and assembled themselves as Ser Meryn Trant announced the King’s arrival. King Joffrey emerged from the double doors with his mother several steps behind him, much to my subtle amusement. She doted on him like he was still a toddler. 

The boy sat himself upon the iron throne, and Cersei Lannister placed herself on the small seat beside him. My grandmother and I stood beside Loras and Margaery, and I was afforded the pleasure of being directly next to Petyr Baelish. 

“Lady (Y/N),” he whispered, giving me a cunning grin. He had not seen me since before the battle—not with his own eyes.

“Lord Baelish,” I replied curtly. I was still somewhat bitter that he’d brought the offer to me, as though somehow it was his fault. Well, either way, he deserved my contempt just as much as Lord Tywin did for being such a conniving, pathetic man. 

“Do you expect you’ll be granted anything besides that wound?” He whispered, leaning closer to me. If I had moved even an inch closer to him, his mouth would’ve been against my ear, and that thought was disgusting. 

“No. I expect Loras will receive the honor for my house,” I said truthfully, folding my hands in front of me. I wished he would just leave me be. He made me uncomfortable in the same way that most men did, but simply even more so.

“And how does that make you feel?”

“It doesn’t, my lord.”

Baelish chuckled quietly at my statement, glancing around before setting his eyes on me again. I could hear his breathing.

“I couldn’t help but notice, my lady, that you have subtly donned the Lannister colors,” he pointed out, attempting to aggravate me. Unfortunately, I did not value Baelish enough to let him do such a thing.

“Yes I am, my lord. A tribute to our alliance.”

“How fascinating, given that you do hate Lord Tywin so much and were quite against the alliance to begin with.”

“I suppose it is fascinating. Will you lay awake tonight thinking about it, Littlefinger? I should hope that there are more immediate matters occupying your mind than my hatred for Tywin Lannister, especially because I have every intention to make this alliance work even despite it,” I sneered, finally affording Baelish a glance. His insufferable smile still refused to disappear.

“I lay awake thinking about quite a lot of things, my lady…” he muttered, sneaking his hand toward my arm and gripping it. Cold fear involuntarily passed through me for a moment, for I was not comfortable with his touch whatsoever. Thankfully, the slamming of the great doors made Littlefinger pull away and straighten out. When he did, I felt Loras grab my shoulders and switch spots with me. My brother was glaring daggers at Baelish, and I let out the breath I’d been holding.

The clopping of a horse’s feet filled my ears then, and I turned my head to find Lord Tywin riding down the aisle on his horse. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, dressed clad in his armor with an elegant cream fabric draped across his chest and shoulder.  

He came to the front of the room, halting at the steps to the iron throne as Joffrey proclaimed him the savior of the city and Hand of the King. We all watched as the pin was presented to him on a pillow, which was rather dramatic in my opinion.

He glanced down at it and bowed his head modestly, taking it in his hand as he did. 

“Thank you, your grace.”

There were no further words, and as he turned his horse around to leave, he caught my eyes. He gave the slightest raise of an eyebrow, and I couldn’t hold back a small smile. We were both thinking the same thing about this boy king, I was certain. This entire ceremony had really only been arranged as a formality, and to make him look like some sort of proper king. 

“Lord Petyr Baelish, step forward.”

I watched Littlefinger move up and kneel before the king, and I took slight note of the disdain on Lord Varys’ face. Baelish was granted Harrenhal for uniting my house with the Lannisters, which nearly made me laugh. He’d done the same job as a raven, and yet it had gone exactly to plan for him.

“Ser Loras Tyrell, Lady (Y/N) Tyrell.”

The sound of my name broke me from my thoughts, and I was surprised to be called upon as well, but nonetheless stepped forward with Loras. I started to reach out for my brother, as I needed help to properly kneel down, but Queen Cersei intervened.

“It is alright, Lady (Y/N), you may stand since you are still healing,” she smiled graciously, and though I could tell it was false I at least appreciated the courtesy.

“Thank you, your grace.”

My brother kneeled down, and I merely bent my head with my hands folded in my lap. It was incredibly awkward, and moving from my spot had made me realize that standing for this long was becoming tiring.

 “Your house has come to our aid. The whole realm is in your debt, none more so than I. If your family would ask anything of me, ask it, and it shall be yours,” Joffrey proclaimed, to which Loras glanced up at me for a moment. I did not meet his gaze. He could make the request, but he should certainly leave me out of it. I would not be responsible for marrying our sister to some awful boy.

“Your grace, my sister Margaery has lost her husband. She remains innocent, and I would ask you to do us the great honor of joining our houses,” Loras said, much to the shock of most nobles present. Joffrey moved forward in his seat, intrigued by my brother's request. His gaze fixed itself on my sister. 

“Is this what you want, Lady Margaery?”

Margaery stepped forward too then, and I felt a deep upset settling in my stomach. I wished she would’ve taken my advice about waiting, but it was too late now.

“With all my heart, your grace. I have come to love you from afar. Tales of your courage and wisdom have never been far from my ears, and they have taken root… deep inside of me,” she said, tone low and somewhat suggestive. It made me want to die.

“I too have heard tales of your beauty and grace... It would be an honor to return your love, but I am promised to another. A king must keep his word,” Joffrey replied, leaning back again with a sort of disappointed look. When I glanced up, I could see Cersei’s thoughts clearly on her face. There was no need for Sansa Stark now, hm?

Cersei reasoned with Joffrey that it would be improper to marry the daughter of a man beheaded for treason, along with the sister of a man in open rebellion against the crown. His marriage to Margaery would be in better interest. Grand Maester Pycelle added onto this sentiment, fully convincing Joffrey now. 

“I am free to follow my heart. Ser Loras, I will wed your sister. Lady Margaery, you will be my queen, and I will love you from this day until my last day,” he vowed. 

Loras stood now, and Margaery was smiling widely. The entire room burst into applause, and I respectfully joined in. Tyrell women certainly had a talent for manipulation, and Margaery and I were testament to that. I prayed she’d be able to manipulate Joffrey, if not his mother. Cersei, much like her insufferable father, was keen on manipulating people and refusing to be manipulated. I supposed that made her more like me than I cared to think about. 

The ceremony carried on for another half hour or so, and I was grateful to finally be dismissed from the dreadful hall. Standing for so long had made the pain in my side much worse, and Loras offered to escort me back to my room, as my cane would not be enough. He chided me as we walked.

“You could have said something, sister.”

“And look weak in front of every noble in the damned city? No. It’s not as if my stitches split again,” I said, gritting my teeth and putting all my weight onto the cane, which was embarrassing enough on its own. The courageous, knowledgeable, and beautiful (Y/N) Tyrell using a cane at the age of 25. It made me want to hang myself. 

“Still, I don’t like seeing you in pain,” he said, helping me up a step with caution. We were in another hall now, and I was startled by the sound of hooves approaching us. I turned and nearly groaned out in annoyance.

“Are you feeling alright, Lady (Y/N)?” Lord Tywin questioned, pulling his reins and coming to a complete stop in front of us. 

“Standing for so long has caused me more than ideal amounts of pain, my lord,” I explained, to which he looked Loras and I over and nodded. There was a thought forming in his head, and it made me apprehensive. 

“Would you like a ride back to your chambers?” He offered, to which Loras looked at me eagerly. He clearly wanted me to accept, though I had zero intention of doing so. I opened my mouth to reply, but I did not manage to get much of it out.

“I should be alright, Lord Tywin, my brother-“

“She would be much obliged, my lord. Here, let me help you up, sister,” Loras interrupted, accepting for me. I glared at him and attempted to say no, but instead felt Loras grip and lift me up. From there, I was transferred directly into Lord Tywin’s arms, where I was seated in front of him in the saddle. I was somewhat shaken, and nearly tried to get off, but Lord Tywin’s arm locked me in as he gripped the reins.

“I shall see you soon, sister.”

Loras departed before I could protest, a smug little grin on his face as he did, and Lord Tywin seemed similarly amused. I scowled at him, beyond annoyed that this was happening.

“Comfortable?” He asked, shifting a bit in the saddle. I noticed that the golden Hand of the King pin was already attached to the cloth on his armor.

“No, I’m seated directly in front of you.”

“Very observant, Lady (Y/N).”

Lord Tywin prompted the horse, and we continued through the red keep at a walk. I only sighed, utterly annoyed by the scenario that I was presently stuck in. I wondered if he and Loras had secretly plotted to ruin my morning.

“How was the rest of the ceremony?” he asked after a moment, glancing down at me. I raised my eyebrows with consideration and shrugged.

“Long, quite boring. Sansa’s marriage to Joffrey has been discarded in light of all that has happened with the Starks, and in light of my sister. They’re betrothed now, ” I informed him, recalling some other minor details as well. It had been quite a waste of time, really.

“They’ll make a good match. It will be nice to bind our houses by marriage instead of relying on your reluctant cooperation,” he remarked, to which I scoffed and glared.

“It’s a good thing that I’m reluctant, Lord Tywin, it means that I’m still intact mentally. Plus, if you want Tyrell gold and food, we ought to make you work for it just a bit, don’t you think? It’s quite nice to watch you try and earn something for once,” I teased, giving him the falsest smile that I possibly could. He huffed and gave me a small ‘ahum.’

“And when have you ever earned something, Lady (Y/N)?”

I raised both eyebrows at him, shocked by his insinuations. Because yes, I was highborn, and I’d certainly had quite a lot of opportunities, but to insinuate that I hadn’t earned anything? 

“I don’t know, perhaps when I fought in the Greyjoy Rebellion? Just like you, my father sent his eldest child to lead. The only difference being that I had to work for that honor. I was only given 1,000 men, Lord Tywin, and yet we did so well that my father allowed me to command at least 20,000 at the Battle of Blackwater. They did not give me the nickname ‘the Nightshade of the Garden’ for no apparent reason. Remember that,” I said sternly, letting him know that I was not just a spoiled 14 year old girl anymore. 

Lord Tywin looked at me thoughtfully, and after a moment he nodded. Gods, it felt good to prove him wrong. Though, he would not pull his eyes away from me, and it made me even more defensive.

“What?” I questioned, wondering what was so damn interesting to him. He pressed his lips together and then inhaled before speaking.

“I’m looking at your dress, Lady (Y/N). You look lovely in it; Lannister colors suit you,” he complimented, though I could understand there was a jab at me for wearing the Lannister colors. Well, I wasn’t going to let him flatter himself with it.

“My grandmother suggested it would do some good in socially proclaiming our alliance,” I told him, gripping onto the saddle’s horn while we went up some stairs. Seeing me do this, one of Lord Tywin’s hands came to my hip and held me secure. It was odd, because somehow Littlefinger grabbing my arm had made me more uncomfortable than this. This was somewhat comforting, and almost considerate of him. Almost. 

“I’m surprised you listened to her,” he remarked, letting go of me once we’d finished going up the steps. I grinned a little bit.

“I fought back, rest assured. My grandmother is rather convincing, which would explain where I get it from.”

Lord Tywin chuckled, and the sound of it made me relax. There was something rather pleasant about it, if I was honest. There is a certain joy in being able to make a man who never smiles or laughs do so.

“Yes, House Tyrell is known for its convincing women. And how did she manage to do so?”

“She said you wouldn’t notice. She said men like you only notice what they’re looking for,” I told him, tone challenging. It was certainly curious that he’d observed my dress so closely. Although I knew he could never see me romantically, it was fun to tease. Gods, the thought of Tywin Lannister taking an interest in me was enough to make me shiver with disgust. Thankfully, I was quite certain that he hated me almost as much as I hated him.

“The Tyrells aren’t frequently seen in red,” he said quickly, moving back awkwardly as I decided to shift my seating. Sitting side saddle was growing increasingly uncomfortable, so I gripped the horn and decided to throw my leg over to sit properly. Well, it wasn’t proper in this dress, but I didn’t give a damn. I had spent too long ignoring the opinions of others to start listening now.

“No, I suppose we aren’t,” I replied, turning my head back to face him. I observed his pin again, and found it surprising to see him not wearing his usual bright red sash. 

“Why this garment and not the red one?” I inquired after a moment. Lord Tywin looked down at me, pondered something, and then looked ahead again.

“The red one is still being subjected to a tedious washing process to get your blood out completely,” he informed, not sugarcoating it whatsoever. My heart sank a bit, and I felt rather guilty. I’d likely ruined it, just as I had ruined his coat from a week ago in the garden.

“Then I apologize for ruining two different items of clothing.”

“Your life is worth more than a piece of fabric. To me, anyway. Plus, the sash isn’t ruined. It was already red to begin with,” he grumbled, arm gently wrapping around my torso as we went up another few steps. I grasped onto his arm, as the jolting of the steps was not very pleasant for my side. It didn’t do much, but it at least made me feel somewhat more stabilized. 

“How surprising of you, Lord Tywin.”

“It’s not surprising, Lady (Y/N), you just don’t know me well enough and like to make assumptions about people,” he remarked, mildly irritated. I pushed aside his insults, knowing that perhaps it was my turn to try and be decent. I had to at least say I’d tried.

“No, I suppose I don’t know you very well,” I paused, swallowing and blinking a few times. After a moment I continued. “Though, I would like to.”

“Even though you find me to be insufferable?” 

“Keep your enemies close, as the saying goes.”

“If you’re honest with yourself, Lady (Y/N), you know I’m not an enemy. You don’t like it very much, but you trust me more than any of those fools at court,” he said, making me scoff. 

“Don’t presume to know how I feel about anything, Lord Tywin.”

“I’m not incorrect. If you truly hated me, you wouldn’t have accepted this ride.”

I scowled now, adjusting my seat in the saddle and gripping the horn again in preparation to swing my leg back over.

“My brother accepted this ride, I had no desire whatsoever to take it. And if you don’t believe me, I will jump off of this horse right now, Lord Tywin,” I remarked, though it was more of a threat than anything.

“No you won’t, because if you did, your stitches would split and I’d end up escorting you back to your room again,” he replied, arm wrapping around my torso and holding me closer than he previously had. I was entirely pressed against him, and my eyes widened at the immodesty of our position. 

“Lord Tywin, let go of me, this will look extremely inappropriate to anyone who might see us,” I said, grabbing at his arm to remove it. He would not budge, however.

“No, you might try and jump,” he said in complete seriousness. His face was blank, and somewhat stern just as it always was, but he was clearly amused by this. I scowled, attempting once more to move his arm.

“Oh Lord Tywin, stop being ridiculous and let me go!” 

“I will not, and I’ve already given you a perfectly valid reason for why I won’t.”

“You are positively infuriating.”

“If you say so, Lady (Y/N).”

We finally reached my chambers, and Lord Tywin removed himself from the horse first. I gave him an annoyed look, but he paid it no mind and reached up for me. His hands came to the sides of my upper torso, and he helped me down as carefully as he could. I sighed once I reached the ground, glad to be out of such an awkward situation. Even then, Baelish had been worse.

“Thank you, Lord Tywin,” I said, more out of obligation than anything. He shook his head, offering his arm since Loras had kept my cane. I raised an eyebrow with confusion; what was he shaking his head about?

“One more thing.”

The guard in front of my room opened the door, and as Lord Tywin helped me inside, I found myself gasping. There, on my armor stand, was the most beautiful set of armor I’d ever seen. 

I let go of Lord Tywin as I got closer to it, and I admired the vines and flowered pattern in the metal, sharp and dangerous thorns accompanying the roses. There was also the unmistakable pattern of nightshade in it, and it made me smile far too much.

Equally as beautiful was the helmet, stunning with a ‘flower crown’ circling it. Of course, this design was made of the brightest and most beautiful gemstones. I could not stop grinning at the thing, and I felt my eyes begin to water.

“Are you alright?” Lord Tywin asked after a moment, noticing my glossy eyes.

“Oh it’s so beautiful, Lord Tywin. It’s so beautiful. T-Thank you,” I said, trying to choke back the tears that threatened to spill. I turned to face him entirely, and suddenly every ounce of hatred and annoyance in my body entirely dissipated. It would return later, of course, but right now the only thing I could think about was the fact that this man was responsible for the beautiful set of armor I’d just received. 

“The measurements should be correct. The designs are made of gold, but the actual armor is strong enough that it won’t be a hindrance. I thought I ought to do a ‘compassionate act’. Especially as your troops will be needed against Robb Stark, and I do hope you will fight with me when the time comes,” he said, hands on his belt. 

I looked at him once more and continued to smile. His offer was somehow even more enticing than the gift. He was not asking my father, or my brother for that matter. He was asking me. 

“I would be honored, my lord.”

He gave the faintest of smiles, and that was enough. Gods, the thought of charging into battle wearing this set of armor was nearly erotic, and I was beyond ecstatic about the thought. The jewels would gleam so brightly that Robb Stark would begin to fear me from miles away.

“Also, I’ve sent for a smith,” Lord Tywin said suddenly, pulling me from my vision. I tore my eyes away from the stand, looking at the man next to me again.

“Pardon?”

“There are only a few smiths that know how to forge Valyrian steel, and I’ve invited one to the capital. When he arrives, I’ll inform you. You can come with me and instruct him on how to fix that sword,” he offered, to which I raised both eyebrows in surprise. I hadn’t a clue that he was even aware of its existence.

“Lord Tywin…”

“What? You didn’t think I’d notice the abnormally large sword in your belt?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow back at me. 

“I just- well, it doesn’t matter. Either way, thank you for doing such a kind thing, Lord Tywin. It means quite a lot to me,” I replied, suddenly remembering the ache in my side and desiring to sit down. I carefully moved toward the table, and realizing that I intended to sit, the Old Lion pulled a chair out for me. I muttered a ‘thank you’ as I sat down in it.

“May I join you?” he inquired after a moment, watching me get settled in.

“Certainly,” I replied, currently in quite a good mood. It was easy to talk to Lord Tywin when both of us were content.

“What do you plan to do with the sword?” he asked, pulling out another chair for himself. His armor clanked as he took his seat, and I sighed out, drumming my fingers against the table in contemplation. 

“Well, I had considered making a dagger with the excess metal,” I told him after a moment, gazing at my armor again and wondering if I could acquire a handle with a similar design. It would look quite nice.

“Are you fond of daggers?”

“Quite. They’re lighter, easy to conceal, and most men don’t know how to use them properly. Would you like to see the sword, Lord Tywin?” I offered, sitting up straighter and pouring myself some wine. It was good to be able to do simple things like that, at least.

“I certainly would.”

I nodded my head toward the chest beside the armor stand, and he rose from his chair and made his way over to it. The wood creaked as he opened it, and I watched proudly as he pulled the thing from its scabbard. The metal was so beautiful, and he laid it carefully across his opposite palm while looking at it.

“Quite the weapon. This might be enough metal for two daggers, it’s absurdly large.” he remarked, bringing it back to the table. He was clearly enamored with the sword, and I couldn’t blame him. 

“It belonged to quite a large man, though I have no clue how he obtained it. I would wager it’s almost as large as Ned Stark’s sword. Ice… well, the Starks have never been particularly original,” I noted, taking a sip of wine. All that the northerners ever went on about was snow, winter, and every other damned cold thing. It would be the equivalent of a Tyrell only ever talking about grain supply and using rose metaphors to do it. 

“I’ve been thinking of names, though I am quite indecisive about the subject. I considered Poison Ivy, but poison ivy is of course a very different kind of plant than nightshade and not anywhere near as threatening. If I wanted men to be itching during a battle I’d be better off sending them whores,” I noted, giving Lord Tywin my entire thought process so that he might understand where I was coming from. He gave a good ‘ha!’ at the last bit, and I could not hold back a smile. It was reassuring to know that even insufferable men appreciated my jokes. 

“What else have you considered?” he asked, shaking his head when I offered to pour him a cup of wine. I supposed it was rather early, but the maesters no longer wanted to give me milk of the poppy, so I resorted to this when the pain was worst.  

“Loras suggested ‘Thorn’, but I explained to him that calling the blade that would be just as original as the Starks were in naming their sword ‘Ice’. There are of course other kinds of poisonous plants, such as the various kinds of hemlocks, but those are not particularly threatening names either. I suppose it doesn’t matter, most already look down upon my use of them anyway,” I shrugged, thinking aloud as I stared at the weapon. Lord Tywin had placed it on the table, and was standing beside me as he admired it.

Poison was an interesting thing in Westeros, for many frowned upon its use and claimed that it was merely a woman’s weapon, but none could deny that it was certainly effective. Plus, what did it matter if people disliked it? Disliking a thing won’t prevent it from affecting you. 

And either way, people could sneer at the fact that I used it so much, but they would still call me the Nightshade of the Garden and tell stories about it. My only goal had been to suppress the rebellion, not to make people think that I was honorable or conventional. So yes, perhaps poison was a woman’s weapon. That was why men feared it so much.

“Have you considered Side Splitter?” 

Lord Tywin’s voice broke me from my thoughts, and I raised my head to look at him. Raising an eyebrow, I repeated his statement to make sure I’d heard correctly.

“Side Splitter?”

“Yes. What do you think?”

I merely stared for a moment and then started to laugh, quite amused by the thought of naming the sword that. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was truthfully quite a good name. 

“Well, it would certainly be both accurate and intimidating. I like Side Splitter quite a lot, Lord Tywin. It fits,” I said, observing the weapon and feeling that it looked like a Side Splitter. It had certainly done the job to me, at any rate. 

“I think so too. I can see it written out beside your name,” he remarked, gazing down at me with a sort of suggestive look on his face. I only gave a small laugh and looked away, but in reality the thought made my heart soar. Someday, maybe a hundred or two hundred years from now, when they told the history of House Tyrell, they would trace their Valyrian steel sword back to me. 

House Tyrell’s ancestral sword, Side Splitter, was obtained by Lady (Y/N) Tyrell during the Battle of Blackwater. One of her opponents sliced up the entire side of her torso with it, and when Lord Tywin Lannister killed the man, she claimed the weapon that had drawn her blood for herself.

It was curious, I thought. A single act in the battle had bound Lord Tywin’s name to mine forever now, for I wouldn’t have been able to claim the weapon without his help. Side Splitter was my sword, and yet it was our story. I could not decide how that made me feel.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady 

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul 

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8 

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice 

@muscari-fae @lostgirllulu 

@abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart 

@frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

@thanyatargaryen @rey26 @hexandale @pkawaiidesu5394 @aimsro @gbatesx

[divineerdrick]

Warhammer World Reveals for Mar 2, 2024

So I'm late on this, and not looking to not be late on these any time soon. Still, I really enjoy blogging these reveals.

In case you didn't hear, this time we didn't get a live show. My guess is that this isn't because live shows won't be a thing anymore, but just because they don't have many reveals this time around. Still, we'll have to wait and see what they're up to in the future.

We still get our WarCom article above, so let's take a look at what we've got!

NOW DATZ PROPPER ORKY!!!

LOOK AT DAT MECH SUIT!!!

LOOK AT DEM WEAPONZ!!!

Seriously! This Big Mek is badass! I definitely prefer the alternate head sculpt with the iron jaw. But if you're someone who pictures your Waaagh's Mek as being a little more kunnin', the main previewed sculpt is still good.

We also get some stats. That is a nice big gun, but in keeping with standard Ork themes it's going to be very swingy. While fly can be a relevant keyword, you're not bringing this git for his firepower.

This, on the other hand, is a perfect reason to bring him. Re-rolling advance rolls isn't anything to sneeze at, and this will make his unit really hard to screen out. Very dangerous, especially if Calling the Waaagh remains unchanged.

There's an interesting box for you!

I'm not going to speculate on whether or not this box will be any good, since we don't know what's going to happen in the codex. But three of those kits are pretty relevant right now. And if you've ever wanted a Stompa, here's a potential discount if you need or can split the other models.

Finally we have our Codex reveal. Haven't been the biggest fan of this Edition's Codex art so far. Don't get me wrong, it's a cool piece of art, but it doesn't really sell the army well to me.

Next we have our reveal for the Custodes. And yeah, sorry, this doesn't bring as much excitement for me as that Big Mek.

Our second new mini is a new Shield-Captain. He definitely looks suitably ornate and imposing, but I'd keep the helmet on. I think the expression on that head sculpt is supposed to be contempt, but it's just not reading clearly as anything. In fact it just as easily reads as, "What the hell happened to this galaxy while I was stuck on Terra?" Fitting maybe, but not really portraying the majesty of the finest warriors in the galaxy.

The Shield-Captain can now take a Pyrithite Spear, which is appropriate since you'd think a Shield-Captain could basically wield whatever they wanted. Previously, this weapon was limited to Forge World. Melta may have lost a step in 10th Edition, but Custodes have plenty of ways to get more out of it.

This model is also coming with it's own box set, including a full six Vertus Praetors. Those aren't doing particularly well right now, but they could get some love in the upcoming Codex.

Again, that's a very well done golden man, but there's nothing here to sell the faction or inspire a player. Why aren't they doing battle scenes on these covers anymore? Seeing a Captain and three Guard holding their own against a horde in their elegant combat stances would go much further to depict just how epic these warriors are.

This ties in with Hammer and Bolter, bringing characters introduced there to the table top. As such, I feel like this is going to be a bit niche.

The sculpts are definitely nice, but I'm not really seeing anything that screams AoS about them.

One of my greatest praises for current GW has been how they've used the Mortal Realms to really let their imaginations take flight. So many of the new factions are just such wonderful reimaginings classic fantasy races. But these look like they would feel at home in any dark fantasy world. You could easily see them stepping off the pages of a Conan novel from the 1950s. For some, this will be a good thing. But especially now that Old World is back, I want Sigmar to keep pushing and keep giving us stuff that is new and cool.

There's also no hint at rules, or even system, for this band of killers. I'm betting we might eventually see rules for both AoS and Warcry. But it would be nice if they got some Underworlds love too, even if maybe the Singri has to stay behind.

This is the one reveal I'd had spoiled. This is so much fun and Blood Bowl is the perfect place for it! When I saw the preview of the goose, I was honestly thinking that maybe it was something for halfling cooks for Old World. But this is way better!

These are a lot of fun, but I do kinda wish they'd gone a bit further. These gnomes don't really look like they're playing the most brutal sport in Fantasy. But I can't help but think of how much fun, and thematic to the game, it would be to see a bunch of wild animals just let loose on the field.

Remember, there's no rule that says a badger can't play Blood Bowl!

Final Thoughts

This was fun! Although I had a lot to say about Codex covers, that Shield-Captain's face sculpt, and some generic bad guys in AoS, these were still fun reveals. I can also definitely understand why they didn't really hype us up for them or do a live show. But as a casual release for a Saturday news post, this is perfect.

And yeah, I'm not gonna stop being salty about 10th Edition Codexes any time soon. So it will probably take something impressive to make me cheer a Codex reveal.

[gardens-light]

Rescued

Tony Stark x Fem Reader

After being held captive for months, Tony works on a plan of escape with his two new found friends. It's a daring plan, and the three of them prepare to fight the odds, or die trying...

Warning: Mild coarse Language. Spoilers for Iron Man movie (first one).

Part 1

Author's Note: Thank you, and also my humblest apologies for the readers whom have waited for ages for, Part Two. The beginning of this year has been hectic, but hopefully the craziness is over and passed. And I can get on with more regular content. Thanks again guys, and really hope you enjoy Part 2. Want a Part 3? Let me know, and I promise the wait won't be ages. Enjoy!

"Come on..." Tony's voice gently tugged for your attention. His hand resting upon your shoulder, "we gotta move. There's still quite a long road ahead of us... it's not over yet."

Pulling you in gently, Tony rested his forehead against yours. "We made a promise to make it out of this hellhole."

Brushing a tear away from your cheek, Tony straightened his poster and pulled down the iron mask. Quickly checking the bullets remaining in your weapon, and adjusting the machine gun.

"Get behind me. Don't move or return fire until I say."

Your silent nod was all the confirmation he needed.

The whole camp took their positions before the opening of the cave. Nervous and twitchy hands hovered over the triggers of their weapons. Attempting to keep a stern expression, while the heavy echo of Tony's clanging iron suit came closer. Many wiped the sweat off their brows, as the harsh desert sun beamed down.

Soon as Tony came into their sights. No hesitation was made when the command to open fire filled the air. Raising an arm to shield his face from the sudden daylight as Tony emerged from the cave. Bullets came raining down in his direction, trying to make yourself as small as possible while hiding behind Tony. The sound of metal ricocheting off the iron suit made Tony's ears ring.

"Tony!"

"Not yet!" he shouted over the chaos. "Stay behind me! I've got this!"

Sparks flews off his iron suit. Small embers stung your skin as you tried to remain hidden behind Tony.

A few more seconds of gunfire continued to rain down, until their weapon barrels were empty. Surrounded by bullet shells at their feet, silence fell over, as the heavily armed men nervously waited for Tony's move...

Tony smiled underneath his iron helmet, "my turn..."

Peering over his shoulder, your eyes stung as the sudden heat from roaring flames emerged from Tony's suit. Fire soared from the gas tubes that were exposed underneath his wrist, holding out his arms as everything set a blaze around the two of you.

Carefully moving forwards towards the terrorists. You hid behind Tony again as the intense heat formed a sweat upon your brow.

Weapons. Creates. Tents. Everything was set alight

Gunpowder. Grenades. Small pieces of TNT caused explosions throughout the camp.

Your clutched onto the machine gun, as Tony moved forward. The terrorist ran, their shouts and screams filling the air as they too weren't safe from the flames.

Bullets once again rained down upon you, as the men reached their stationary guns and sniper rifles.

Stepping aside from the safety of your human shield of iron, you returned fire to cover Tony. The buzzing sound in your back pocket caused you to hide behind Tony, reaching in and pulling out a repurposed Nokia.

"Tony! You've got exactly eight more minutes, till your arc reactor stops powering the suit!"

"I'm making this as quick as I can, honey!" Tony strolled through the camp, continuing his rain of fire.

"Look out!"

Quickly taking a step behind Tony, bullets ricocheted off the iron suit as one of the men aimed their tactical gun at him. Raising an arm to defend himself from more bullets that came hammering from close range. The roaring flames provided little cover, as you attempted to return fire.

"I'm out of bullets!" as you threw the weapon aside, the sound of a bullet clogging the fine gears of the iron suit caught your attention. Your eyes widened as Tony fell down onto one knee. "Tony!"

More explosion erupted around you. Flames spreading everywhere, showing no signs of a clear way out.

"Put your arms around me!"

"What?!"

"Put your arms around me! And hold on tight!"

Throwing yourself onto Tony, wrapping your limbs around him as tightly as you could. Closing your eyes tightly, as Tony flipped two switches upon the inside of his arm, slamming a button down.

His suit rumbled and shook as a great force of power pushed him into the air. The ground swept away from your feet, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter as you hugged him from behind. You felt Tony grasp onto your limbs, as you screams deafened his ears.

As you rocketed upwards through the air, the camp erupted into flames. Explodesions ignited everything in their path, wiping the terrorist camp off the desert sands.

Half way through the air, the gas piping that redirected the fire to Tony's feet slowly begun to spit out. The roaring flames soon turned into useless ambers, before cutting out completely.

Your screams filled the air as you and Tony came crashing back down into earth. Bits of metal from the iron suit broke free, causing you to lose your grip.

"Y/N!"

"Tony!"

'Crash.' 'Clang.' 'Bang.'

Tony's body slammed against the harsh sand of the desert dune. Being buried waist high in sand, removing his helmet Tony released a heavy sigh. Gazing around at the pieces of scrap metal, wires and gears that scattered around him.

"Y/N! Y/N!"

Pushing the iron bracers away from his left hand, his blurry vision franticly gazed around.

"Y/N! Where are you?"

Loud ringing echoed in his ears. A pounding throbbed against his temples.

I couldn't of lost her! We've come too far to be separated now!

"Come on darling! Speak to me!"

"Here! I'm here, Tony!" you shouted, as you crawled to the top of the sand dune. "You crazy motherfucker!"

Tony attempted to laugh, but he only coughed and spluttered. Taking off more parts of the suit, you begun to dig Tony out of the sand.

"Any injuries?"

Tony groaned as you pulled him onto his feet, "besides a broken shoulder... fine. What about you?"

You smiled as he cupped your face. "I'm swore and in a lot of pain... but I think I should be fine."

Slowly stepping away, Tony took your hand in his. "Well... we're together now. No matter what, nothing's gonna hurt you while I'm around..."

It felt like hours as the pair of you slugged through the sands. The heat of the sun becoming more unbearable with each passing minute. Your sun turned a bright red, and the salty sweat dripping from your brow stung your eyes.

"Tony..." your voice was weak, bearly a whisper. "Tony... I-I can't..."

He wrapped an arm around your waist, using the remaining strength he had to keep you upright, and close to him.

"Yes... you can." his dry voice sounded just as dehydrated as yours. "We'll get through this..."

All you could do was flash him a weak smile, before you eyes rolled into the back of your head. Tony called out for you, as he felt your body go limp.

Just as his knees knelt against the sand. The roar of a helicopter hovered over his head, kicking up sand dust into his eyes. Tony raised his hand above his head, holding up a peace sign as he tried to shout over the machine.

A wave of relief washed over him, as Rhodey jumped out of the helicopter once it landed. His old friend rushed over, fully armed and equipped in US military tactical gear. Escorted by four of his loyal soldiers.

"How was the 'fun-vee?"

Tony chuckled at Rhodey's sarcastic remark.

Rhodey knelt down, placing a hand upon Tony's shoulder. "Next time you ride with me, okay?" he looked down at you, as you laid passed out in Tony's arms.

"She needs help."

"Safe your breath, my friend. Lieutenant!" Rhodey glanced over his shoulder, looking up at one of his men.

"Sir!"

"Assist Mr Stark back to the helicopter. I'll carry... our new friend..."

The lieutenant took Tony's arm, placing it around his shoulders and helping him onto his feet. While Rhodey gently scooped you up into his arms.

"Tony?..." your fluttered open, but your vision was too blurry to see anything.

"Shh..." Rhodey cooed. "I've got you, Miss. You and Tony are safe now..."

Tag List

@3joracha

[notthestarwar]

Snippet from: No Children

“IC-2224.” Vader hissed. “Stop her. Before she tears apart the station.”

Cody looked at his superior officer a little dumbstruck. During his time with Vader, he was used to receiving unreasonable orders but this? This really took the cake.

-

They’d built this place, with the intention of destroying planets. The weapon to end all weapons. One to finally scare the greater galaxy in to submission.

Now they’d done it, destroyed a planet. Thoroughly.

This planet, Alderaan, was wiped off the map, certainly. All that was left was dust.

And they’d done so, in the presence of its princess, who was apparently, Force sensitive. Very Force sensitive.

Whoops.

-

Cody had worked for the Empire for almost 20 years. He’d thought he’d been made for the Republic, at first. But the Republic had been gone now for more years than he’d ever known it, and the longer he served the Empire, the more Cody thought that maybe, he’d been made for this all along.

He didn’t like it, but who liked their job?

From what Cody could tell, not many people, and most of them didn’t even have an iron vice gripping their mind, ensuring compliance.

You could hate a job without being forced in to it, undeniably.

The chip was beyond matter really.

-

The empire didn’t need command of Cody’s brain chemistry for him to follow at their beck and call. Not when Cody had no other option. He was a soldier, he worked for the government. He always had. What would he possibly do if he left? What would he be?

Cody had no desire to stand against the empire.

And yet…

-

Here he was, being given orders, that left him, frankly gobsmacked.

He’d seen Vader send men to their deaths before, without a chance of survival and for little reason. He’d seen that from him even before he was Vader.

But Cody couldn’t think of a single reason that he might- what did Vader even want him to do? Just walk over and serve himself up to her?

He really didn’t know. Maybe that was what was stopping him. How do you follow an order if you don’t know what the order is?

“Sir?” He asked.

-

Vader turned to him, and without a word Cody was hit with the full force of that Helmet. Shining black plastic eyes boring in to his own and that stare, brought with it a reminder, the knowledge of what a long silence from that face could mean, and Cody…he felt nothing.

They were all dying here weren’t they? Hadn’t they always been?

Maybe they hadn’t known it at the time but it seemed clear to Cody now that from that first day, on the bridge of the Negotiator, Cody and Anakin Skywalker had met eachothers eyes for the first time and from that point, they’d been headed here.

Fighting for the Republic, Falling in love, Killing his General, or not killing him for that matter; living without him when he might not have.

None of it mattered, because all of that, came after. The end was already set, the day Cody met this man. He saw that now.

He met this man in another life, and since then, they’d both just been making their way here.

-

Vader uses that stare because he intends to make people break. He does not have to speak, he just stares at them and eventually they crumple under the weight of it and reveal all.

This is nothing like that.

When Cody speaks, it is not fear that loosens his tongue, it is not because he can no longer bear the silence, and the anticipation that brings.

For the first time in a long while, Cody speaks because he wants to.

-

“We’re going to die.” He breathes.

He knows it like he has known little else.

Cody took off his helmet, wanting to see it happen with his own eyes. “We die here.” He told Vader. “Me and you, we were always going to.”

Doesn’t Vader see it? Can’t he feel it?

Vader made a noise that was beyond interpretation. “I will not die here today. Now go talk to her.”

Talk to her? Like that would do a thing.

Cody choked on a laugh. “Don’t you see?” He asked, “You already have.”

They were dead. Had been since that day on the bridge of the Negotigator. It had simply taken a little while for their bodies to catch up, but here it was. Soon.

-

Vader’s head whipped between the soldier and the girl.“Girl! Stop this. You will die, you don’t want that do you?” He barked, but the girl did not seem to have heard him, her eyes were glazed.

This whole situation was beyond comprehension. He’d tortured her, how had he not seen this power? She’d appeared force null but this… this was something beyond the ability of most force users, no matter how distressed.

What did this mean? How hadn’t she been found as a child? Was this the end? Not of Vader and that insolent idiot. Not of the Death Star, but of the Empire?

A force user of this power level being hidden could bode nothing good. Someone had planned this. They’d hidden her, waited for her to grow so she might one day destroy him and without Vader? There was no Empire.

His Master’s plan would crumble to ashes. He needed Vader, they all did.

That idiot Tarkin. He'd told him that blowing up that stupid planet was a bad idea. The man had an inferiority complex the length of Coruscant. Vader knew this whole thing would end badly.

Why did they need a weapon to destroy planets, to terrify people in to submission, when they had Vader? They didn’t, plain and simple. This was just a superfluous supplement and now, the Empire would fall, thanks to that idiots hubris.

Tarkin should never have been allowed such power, look what he’d done with it.

-

The viewport cracked.

Of all the things to kill him. After all this time. All it took was one self important bureaucrat antagonising a princess. It was laughable.

All the Deaths he’d escaped to get here.

The clone too! The last of his kind.

-

Not that Vader wanted to draw any commonality between the two of them. But all that they had survived these past decades and this was what finally did the two of them in?

Vader deserved more of a death than some clone. After all this time, he’d earnt something bigger than this.

He looked back to the girl. He couldn’t reach her in the Force, she’d wrapped it round herself in an impenetrable shield.

This was a impressive show of power. All that time, she’d just been living on some insignificant planet. Had he known…

-

He could see the power rolling off her in waves. This was someone who he might have overthrown his Master, beside.

Were he in any other situation, he might be curious, to watch things play out. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. Coming off her in waves, it was as if through her pain, she was causing reality to fold in on itself.

Did she know what she was doing? She was drawing on the Cosmic Force, any student of the force knew that this kind of manipulation, was a quick way to end up dead.

-

She was still screaming, a piercing harrowing thing. The scream itself seemed to be driving the disturbance. If he could reach her in the Force, he could cut it off at its source. If he could move towards her physically, he might be able to do the same, but he found himself held there, waiting for their end.

She was not only feeling the pain of the past hour, she was terrified, stuck in a feedback loop, her own terror feeding the storm she was creating.

He’d tortured her and she’d made no attempt to escape, she could have, using the force, undoubtedly. In the days of the Republic, brigs were made to contain force users, on a ship like this, they would have had force suppressants easily available. But there was no room in the empire for Force users, not when Vader and his Master were living. There may only be 2.

If she’d made no attempt to escape, if he’d seen not even a glimpse of this power when she was under torture, that could only lead him to the conclusion that, she hadn’t known. What a way to find out you had such a power.

No wonder she was terrified.

-

It was fascinating really.

Any force user could wreck havoc in an emotional situation but without training? They’d burn from the inside out, tearing down everything in their reach on the way out. His Master had created this end. They were not prepared for her, because of the ways of the empire.

She was created by the empire, in another life the Jedi surely would have trained her. Any training, might have prevented this, the Whills, the Nightsisters, no matter how destructive the sect, self preservation would have been taught to her by any.

She couldn't have any idea what she were doing.

The jedi temple had after all, offered training to all for a reason. Untrained force users could wreck havoc in emotional situations. He supposed having your planet blown up counted as such.

She had shown no signs of it during his torture though. And had made no attempt to escape. A power like this, lurking beneath the surface all that time.

-

Without Vader, Lord Palpatine would never be able to maintain his empire, but he might not have to. This girls grip on the cosmic force, the way everything around her seemed to be at risk of folding in. This might be the end of them all.

She may well bring about the end of all reality, if she survived any longer.

There was no point in trying to reason with her. She was no more able to control it than he was. trapped in her grief as she was. The maelstrom continued to wrap around her, tighter and tighter.

-

He glanced away from her. IC-2224 looked triumphant.

The viewport cracked further.

“Anakin.” IC-2224 called, drawing his attention away from the cracking glass once more. The cheek of the man, Vader was unsure what made him more angry, the use of that name, or the automatic impulse, to turn towards it.

Before Vader could say a word, IC-2224 was speaking once again. “This is the end.” He closed his eyes, tipping his head back. “Finally.”

There was the sound of wrenching metal, a sharp crack, loud enough to be heard even over the screaming.

-

Vader readied himself for the cold burn of space. IC-2224 would feel it first, he’d removed his helmet, skin bared to the elements, he’d go first.

With artificial lungs and no tissue for the cold to damage, it would take Vader himself slightly longer to die, he would last until the last of the death stars air, was deplete of oxygen. He’d feel the cold of the void before he lost consciousness, in the sockets of his prosthetics first, and then the rest.

The girl would undoubtedly be cushioned by the shield she’d inadvertently wrapped around herself, she wouldn’t die until she realised she was the one holding it, and dropped it.

-

Vader turned his eyes to the viewport, seeing the most recent, and largest crack, as it slowly spread its way across the transparisteel, meeting the rest.

Once the weakness had wrapped its way around a complete chunk of the glass like material, it would break free, sucked in to the vacuum and then, all the rest would follow.

Vader waited, watching the cracks spread for what seems like a lifetime, he watched as a crack meets another, forming a neat plug of glass, and he watches, it flex in place, the vacuum of space tugging at it.

-

He closes his eyes, waiting for the cold void of space to meet them, but before it can, time crumples like a paper ball.

The three of them are flung apart.

And there is nothing.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831285/chapters/117961465

this is the snippet i wanted to post before when i posted the other one from chapter 2 with cody and past jango. i have not been able to remember the bits that made the version i accidentally deleted better, but i am still pretty sure it was better so i’m pretty upset about that still lol

this is a wip. this part is from chapter 1 which is really something of a prologue as the fic is about ex-purge trooper cody, grieving and pretty messed up after years in the empire. being sent back in time, landing on the slave ship with jango. i’m working on chapter 3 atm. theres no set timescale, just, as and when inspiration hits. but the end is written

[tobiasdrake]

Team Star Base #5: Eri

Okay, here we are at the Fighting base with a randomly selected team of Pokemon trained to level 55. This time for real.

The team we're going in with is as follows:

Donphan (Sturdy) w/ Leftovers - Earthquake, Play Rough, Charm, Iron Defense. I figure Donphan's a good leader to try and suss things out before we know what we're dealing with. Fighting Types are predominately Physical and weak to Fairy, so her Charm and Play Rough could go a long way.

Spiritomb (Pressure) w/ Rocky Helmet - Hex, Dark Pulse, Will-O-Wisp, Nasty Plot. Do I think Spiritomb is going to be absolutely vicious here? Yes. Yes, I do. Her Ghost Type eliminates her Dark weakness to Fighting and she has the Wisp/Hex combo for flexing on Physical attackers.

Noivern (Infiltrator) w/ Sharp Beak - Air Slash, Dragon Pulse, Psychic, Moonlight. Following Spiritomb, I think Noivern is going to be a serious damage-dealer. He can hit these Fighters where it hurts.

Basculin (Adaptability) w/ Mystic Water - Wave Crash, Chilling Water, Reversal, Rain Dance. Basculin's kind of a one-trick pony, but he's fast and can hit hard if we just need to nudge an opponent off the edge of their HP bar.

Coalossal (Flame Body) w/ Quick Claw - Power Gem, Fire Blast, Body Press, Tar Shot. Coalossal is slow and weak to Fighting. I don't expect much. Her defenses are okay, and that might be enough to get off one Fire Blast. But I think the most I can really hope for is someone burning themselves on her Flame Body while punching her out.

Crabominable (Iron Fist) w/ Punching Glove - Drain Punch, Ice Hammer, Avalanche, Iron Defense. Crabominable's in the same boat as Coalossal. It's a decent build, I think. But his slow speed and Ice weakness to Fighting means he's unlikely to go very far in this base.

We've got some high highs and low lows with this team. Coalossal and Crabominable are probably dead weight, but Spiritomb and Noivern might just be able to carry this thing all on their own.

Eri seems pretty cool. Her attitude seems about what I'd expect from the Fighting leader. She's recklessly brave and ready to throw down for her team to protect her Grunts, and needs to be convinced not to just fight me right here, away from everything. So without further ado, it's time to battle her friend Carmen.

Carmen Pokemon #1: Croagunk

And again with the high level juvenile Pokemon. This isn't even funny. Donphan oneshots with Earthquake. Next!

Carmen Pokemon #2: Primeape

Okay, that's more like-- Wait, hold on. In this region, Primeape's still technically an unevolved Pokemon. You patronizing jerk!

Primeape opens with Close Combat, dealing 45% damage and dumping his Defenses. Donphan replies with Charm, cutting his PHY ATK in half too. Sucks to be you, Primeape.

On the next exchange, Primeape tries to compensate with Screech, equalizing the debuffs. But it's too late. Donphan puts him down with Play Rough, capitalizing on his dumped Defenses.

It's Over!

Hopefully that's the last time someone will patronize me with unevolved Pokemon. On to the real show.

Star Barrage

This is the worst Star Barrage I've ever had. Donphan has a hard time keeping up, and accidentally gets nailed by a Breloom. I have to go out of my way to avoid Crabominables, because both Donphan and Noivern are weak to Ice. Spiritomb, on the other hand, has the time of her life eating up all the Gallades and Medichams.

This was the first Star Barrage that actually stressed me. @.@ But we made it through nonetheless. It's time for the show.

Eri Pokemon #1: Toxicroak

Man, am I glad for the free heal between Star Barrage and boss fight. Donphan had like 1 HP left, but now we're all square.

This is basically the same opener as Carmen's. Just. Evolved. So I have to actually take this seriously. According to my Pokedex, Toxicroak is a Physical Blitzer. Good Speed and Attack at a cost of low Defenses.

He's just as weak to Earthquake as Croagunk but I don't want to get cocky. We have Type Advantage, but let's take a moment to set up.

Toxicroak gets the first move and hits Donphan with Brick Break, dealing 25% damage. Donphan uses Iron Defense, then recovers with Leftovers.

This continues. Brick Break, Iron Defense. Brick Break, Iron Defense. Feeling pretty good about Max Defense Donphan right now, not gonna lie. (Should have seen if she can learn Body Press.)

Alright, we're done here. Donphan oneshots Toxicroak with Earthquake after the next Brick Break. Moving right along.

Eri Pokemon #2: Passimian

Ooh, one of the more obscure ones. Pokedex says we've got a pure Fighting, but this one's a Physical slugger instead of blitzer. Decent Speed and PHY DEF, with very high HP and PHY ATK. He's here for a long haul.

Donphan, however, has Max Defense and Leftovers. So she's here for a long haul too.

Passimian opens with Close Combat and deals 12 damage while dumping his Defenses. Donphan hits him with Charm because I'm an asshole.

On the next round, Donphan trades Play Rough for a Seed Bomb. Thanks to that Charm, Seed Bomb does little more than Close Combat. But Passimian hangs in there with 5% HP.

Doesn't seem like it will make much difference, but appearances can be deceiving. Passimian scores a critical hit on his next Seed Bomb. Donphan barely survives with 2 HP, which Leftovers corrects to 12 after she finishes off Passimian.

Eri Pokemon #3: Annihilape

Well, there goes my sweep. Thanks, crits. With 12 HP, I don't know if Donphan can stay in the game even at Max PHY DEF. Annihilape's stats are pretty much the same as Passimian's - Just with slightly bigger numbers, most of which uselessly went into his Special Defense.

Well, we'll see what happens. Is Annihilape strong enough to push through?

The answer is yes. Annihilape's Close Combat deals enough damage through Donphan's buffs to end her rampage. Shame.

Eri Pokemon #3: Annihilape, Round 2

Well, we definitely can't bring out Spiritomb under these conditions. Annihilape will break her in half with Ghost punches. But his Defenses just took a hit from that Close Combat, so we might be able to blitz.

Let's turn to Noivern. He's incredibly fast and will easily outpace Annihilape.

Noivern hits the field and deals 85% damage with Air Slash. It's not enough, but it flinches Annihilape. So it gets the job done in the second round, and Noivern pushes through to the next fight unharmed.

Eri Pokemon #4: Lucario

Checking my Pokedex. Fighting/Steel non-specific blitzer. Lucario has high PHY and SPC ATK as well as good Speed. He pays for it with poor Defenses and HP, but compensates with Steel resistances to make him functionally all-round powerful.

All things considered, there's a reason this guy became iconic to the franchise. If you can't cut through his Steel resistance, then he might as well be a pseudo-legend. But he's not a pseudo-legend.

He's fast and he more or less out-stats me here. But Noivern is a hell of a lot faster, and he can cut through Lucario's Steel resistance. Lucario's Air Slash slices through and deals 50%. Lucario responds with Dragon Pulse, knocking a full 100 HP off Noivern and bringing him down to 30%.

30% Noivern is still strong enough and fast enough to finish off this clown with another Air Slash. Noivern's hurting bad, but we're moving into the final round.

Eri Pokemon #5: Caph Starmobile

Noivern won't win this fight, but he can get us started. Noivern opens with Air Slash, dealing 30% damage. Starmobile uses Shift Gear to boost its Speed and PHY ATK. Uh oh. It then takes down Noivern on the next round, hitting him with Spin Out.

(It also gets a PHY DEF boost from Stamina, so that's a thing.)

Eri Pokemon #5: Caph Starmobile, Round Two

Yeah, that Shift Gear is a problem. Let's get Basculin in there to try and do some damage. Basculin Wave Crashes into Starmobile, bringing it down to 40% but firing off another Stamina. Starmobile uses Shift Gear again, then puts Basculin down with a Combat Torque.

Eri Pokemon #5: Caph Starmobile, Round Three

It's Spiritomb's turn, not that she can do much. We already determined that Starmobiles are immune to status ailments, so Wisp Hex is out. And it resists Dark Pulse. So I guess we're just stuck with basic Hexes.

That said, Spiritomb's presence does create one problem for the Starmobile: No Combat Torques. Starmobile is forced to hit her with Spin Out, taking a double debuff to its Speed and only dealing 40%. Hex brings it down to 25%.

Starmobile shifts gears to try and get its Speed back, and takes another Hex, putting it at 10%. Weirdly enough, this is working. I just need to hope that Spiritomb can resist the next attack.

...or not. Starmobile wastes its final turn on another Shift Gear, then gets nailed with the final Hex. This seemingly insurmountable match ends with a whimper.

It's over!

Huh. Y'know, I'm a little disappointed about winning that. What a weird feeling.

Honestly, I don't like the Starmobiles very much. Making them immune to status ailments (and I think giving them infinite PP?) feels like cheating. Most of these Starmobile fights felt less like a desperate and awesome boss fight, and more like a janky struggle against a ruleset violation.

But it is what it is, I suppose.

Donphan, Noivern, and Spiritomb all did their best out there, but I'm going to give this battle's MVP award to Donphan. Her max PHY DEF tactic carried her far, and it was only by misfortune of a crit that her walls crumbled. Good work out there, Donphan.

[just-here-for-the-moment]

CONGRATULATIONS ON 300 LOVE💚💚💚 You deserve it and more because you are TALENTED and SO SWEET and everything you do is just 👨‍🍳🤌

I took the chance to spin your wheel… and first spin I got was Mando with a lactation kink… I KNOW this man loves kids and wants a big family so I can’t wait to see what you come up with!!!! All the love!

Woooo!!! This broke me. I was really going for XTRA FILTHY SMUT but that did not happen. This one surprised me when I wrote it by sneaking up all soft and sweet, and then ending that way too. That's okay, though, I like a good soft smut.

Hope you enjoy!!! :D

Word Count: 2030+

Rating: Explicit/mature, 18+ only

Outline: Din Djarin x “You”/Din’s wife (cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: starts soft, ends soft; Din has a filthy mouth; praise kink (use of “good girl”); lactation kink; unprotected P/V sex in the context of marriage; sprinkling of breeding kink

Evenings and nights were always your favorite with your husband. It was the best time of the day, everyone settled down and quiet, the ship docked for the night wherever you were visiting or set to autopilot to the next destination. You knew your husband’s moods, the slight slump of his shoulders telling you that he was getting drowsy, ready to head below decks and rest, curled up in your arms.

You nursed your son, putting him down before heading up to the cockpit to knit for a bit and watch the stars race by. After an hour of that, you saw the telltale signs and knew that Din was done for the day, even if he didn’t know it himself. He pushed himself too hard, always believing that there was more of him to go around than there was.

Now that the baby was here, growing healthy and strong, Din had resumed his habit of staying up too late, tweaking just one more thing in the cockpit or looking over the available jobs just one more time. He had spent too many nights slumped sleeping in that pilot’s chair, and you had finally started being gently pushy, in the hopes of getting the man to just stop and rest.

You waited until you saw the helmet keel an inch too far to the right, knowing how heavy it felt on his head, his old habit of wearing full armor at all times in the cockpit in case things went sideways and he had to spring into action. You didn’t push him to relax or remove it, you knew how much he needed that feeling of being in control. But you could be sweet and soft, remind him how much you needed him at the end of the day, how good it would feel to finally remove the Beskar and curl up against you, skin to skin for the night.

“Din,” you made your voice soft. “It’s bedtime.”

His helmet tilted back to center and you heard him clear his throat. “Just one more thing, mesh’la.”

You smiled to yourself and finished off your row of stitches, giving him a few more minutes, tweaking knobs and fiddling with buttons. You got up and stretched, then came around to his side, placing one hand on the back of his neck with a gentle squeeze.

“Let’s go. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone tomorrow.”

Din lifted one hand to grip your waist affectionately. You could visualize the fight happening on his face, the urge to take care of just one more item battling against the pull of your soft curves in the dark. You leaned in, letting his helmet come to rest against your side.

“Let me take you to bed, you big, strong man.” Your voice was soft, your nails softer as you slipped them just under the cowl and dragged them across the back of his neck.

Din sighed and then set the ship to autopilot before he removed his helmet. His eyes were rimmed with hints of red, the circles underneath deeper than they had been yesterday. Your heart squeezed, and you immediately took the helmet to set it gently on the floor. You kneeled in front of his chair and didn’t say a word as you started to help him remove his gloves, then all of the parts of his armor that you could reach. For his part, Din let you worry your fingers over him. Then he stood up and took off his back plates and cape, piling everything neatly on the ground.

“Sit.” You left no room for argument, and Din complied. You muttered gently to yourself as you reached down to help him remove his boots, “Kriffing crazy man, pushing yourself so hard…”

Din let you undress him, let you massage your fingers up his calves and across his quads, and that told you more than anything how tired he really was. Normally he would at least protest, say that he didn’t need the help, but this quiet acquiescence was worrisome. Still, though, you knew how to relax him, get him to stop. You weren’t above using your feminine wiles to bend him to your will, all in the service of getting him to rest.

When he was finally down to his flight suit, you opened the front of it and peeled it down and off his shoulders, and then straddled his lap in the pilot’s chair. You started by skating your nails over his shoulders. Din closed his eyes as a shiver ran through his body. He nearly moaned, a soft “Ohhh…” floating out into the quiet of the cockpit.

You gently pushed his forehead so that he could lean his head back on the headrest, and increased the pressure of your fingers as you rubbed circles into the knots of his biceps and trapezius muscles. Din let his hands rest on your thighs as you worked him over, and by the end of it, he was putty in your hands. You finished by laying a soft kiss to his velvet lips, and you were surprised when he kissed back and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tight.

“Sweet man, I thought you were tired?” You smiled as he brought his eyes to rest on your face.

“No, mesh’la. I think I just got a second wind.” Din raised an eyebrow at you, and you giggled as you felt him twitch hard underneath your crotch.

“No, you need to rest, my husband. You’re awfully tired.”

Din groaned as he buried his face against your sternum, grinding up against your through your clothing. You threaded your fingers through his curls and scraped your nails from his ears down to his neck, pulling a moan from deep in his throat.

“But I need to have you, just like this.” Din brought his hands up to untie the laces of your wrap dress, sliding his thick fingers under the fabric as it fell open. “Please? Can I taste your milk? You know I love to taste you, mesh’la.” He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts. You felt a thrill run through your body, finding it harder and harder to be stern with him.

“No, Din, you really need-” You gasped as he cupped your breast with one big hand and brought his mouth to the nipple. “You need…” But for the life of you, you couldn’t remember the next part of your orders. You let your dress slide down your arms and off your shoulders, pooling on the floor of the cockpit. Your panties were damp, and Din’s strong arm wrapped around you, holding you firmly in place.

“I know what I need, my sweet wife. I need you.” Din dove back to your breast with his hungry mouth, swirling the nipple with his tongue as his erection grew and pressed harder against your clothed cunt. You felt your milk prickling behind your areolas, knowing that if Din applied any suction, you would start leaking from both breasts, and then you would entirely lose control of this mission to get him to bed.

“No, Din, bed-” but he cut you off with a growl, something primal and low that rumbled from deep in his chest and took your breath away as he gripped you closer, teeth scraping against your budded nipple.

Din began to suckle, and you threw your head back with a gasp, clinging tightly to his shoulders as the muscles flexed under your touch. He was quiet but greedy, sucking at one side before moving to the other. The feel of your milk letting down made you moan, and giving in was just too easy, too sweet to resist. You let your husband take what he wanted, what he needed from you. There would be plenty for the baby still.

“You taste like the stars, sweet girl.” Din’s voice was a hoarse whisper in between his lapping, and his praises made you wetter. “You taste like honey and sunshine like this.”

“Diiinn…” Your head was fuzzy, wiped clean of everything except desire. “Din, please…”

You weren’t even sure what you were asking for, but Din took charge, lifting you half out of his lap so that he could free his cock, before hooking one thick finger and pulling your panties to the side. He swept the head of his penis back and forth against your slick folds and then thrust up inside, settling you back on his lap with his arm wrapped tight around your lower back.

“My wife, my girl,” he growled into your mouth as he worked you against him. You braced your feet as best you could, but Din was determined to do things his way. You let him pull and release you with that iron grip, canting your hips back and forth as he rocked you on his length. He ducked his head back down and lapped at you again and again.

All you could manage was a breathy, “Ohhh,” as he kept thrusting up into you at a steady pace. You grasped at his shoulders, his hair, anywhere you could find a purchase to steady yourself.

“My wife has the sweetest tits in the whole galaxy. Such a good girl, letting me fuck her like this.” Din’s eyes sparkled as he looked up at you. “Want me to fuck another warrior into you, mesh’la? Another baby?”

“Yes, oh!” You felt your climax start to unfurl, every nerve tingling as his cock rubbed against your clit from this angle.

Din suckled you again and again, pausing only to growl praises and promises up into your mouth.

“You’d like that? You want me to fill you up again? I’ll keep you pregnant all the time, full of milk for me and our babies.” His arm wrapped tighter around your waist as he fucked up inside of you harder. “Keep your tits full? Keep you dripping sweet milk, all for me?”

You nodded and kissed him. “Yes, please- yes, yes. Fill me up, Din. I want you to.”

“Come for me first, sweet girl.” Din cupped his free hand under your knee and lifted your leg high and open. “Touch yourself. I want my wife to come around my cock.”

Your hand flew down inside your panties to touch your clit, rubbing and pressing it in circles, trying desperately to follow his wishes. Finally you felt the finish coming. You gasped out to him as you came and Din kept his eyes pinned on your face as you cried out. Your cunt squeezed and milked his cock as he began to spurt his own release deep inside. Din let go of your leg, and both arms wrapped your waist in a vise grip as he ground himself into you and climaxed.

When you were both spent, Din brought both hands to cup your breasts, licking the last of your milk from the swollen nipples.

Din’s “Hmmmm…” reverberated through his lips, the deepest and most satisfied sound you could imagine. You felt him hot inside of you, and you were reluctant to lift yourself off his lap. He softened inside of you bit by bit as he licked your nipples, squeezing both breasts until he was satisfied that he had gotten every last drop.

You draped your arms around the back of Din’s neck and let his cheek rest against your breast, curling your fingers gently in the back of his hair and feeling him finally soften fully.

“Will you sleep well, my husband?” You gently teased him, a soft smile on your lips as you looked down at him and stroked his face.

Din looked up at you from under his lashes, and your heart ached at how peaceful his big brown eyes were, how comforted he looked there in your arms. You wanted him to look like that forever. You wished you could somehow wipe all worry and strain from his life. But maybe this was the best you could do for your husband, just comfort him and give him solace when he needed it most.

Din closed his eyes and breathed deeply, and you let him rest there a while longer.

---

Din Djarin/Mando character masterlist

Main masterlist

“Everything bagel” tag list: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis @pilothusband @bastillealmighty @eri16 @jitterbugs927 @babiiface95 @toomanystoriessolittletime @yespolkadotkitty @fisforfulcrum @prettylilhalforc @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @wildemaven @coreychick @castleamc @coreychick @astoryisaloveaffair

[pink-apollo]

How do you think Clayton would react to a affectionate/ clingy s/o? 😮‍💨 ( plus I hope you have a good first day tmr 🥰 )

THANK YOU!💕💕I’m doing online so I honestly had nothing to really worry about but ya know. It’s…scary but in a good way! Also I apologize if he’s ooc, it’s been a HOT minute. But Clayton is a character that I absolutely adore and love, as well as needs more love!! And I would love to write more for him. Tumblr needs more content of him😭😭 of all the brothers really!!

Clayton carmine with affectionate S/O 🎀Headcanons🎀

🎀Clayton is a large burley man, known for squishing locus heads for fun and charging in hell bent in battle. Seeming very rough around the edges, not one for clingy-ness or cutesy things in general. However, he is rather a huge softy! At first it was rather intimidating bringing up the idea of cuddling, but he could tell that’s what you wanted, you just had to go and do it. He himself was very new and was unsure what to do ironically, so he had you initiate it to have an idea of what you liked and how you liked to be held!

🎀You Gus are the comedic duo of the big strong buff s/o that’s rough and mean looking with a s/o that’s cutesy and wants to cuddle and pamper the other

🎀Clayton has no issue when it comes to you seeking affection from him whatsoever! In fact rather adores how you seek him out if you’re feeling clingy, sad, etc. He loves how he knows you feel safe coming to him when in dire need of snuggles. He can’t help but to smile when you climb into his lap and sit there with him, listening to his heart beat while you trace along his tattoos

🎀When it comes to you wanting to hold hands?? He can’t help but to feel protective of you because of how cute you look along with the size different between the two of you! There have been times when you’re in a middle of a battle and hold hands while shooting at locusts. No it’s it the most romantic thing…. but he’ll do it for you

🎀Gave a weird look when you opened and closed your hand multiple times. He was unsure of what to do and placed his hand in yours, which to his surprise stopped your shenanigans. Now when he sees you making “grabby hands” he knows you just want to hold hands without saying anything. Maybe to piss him off, but he adores it non the less. Makes him feel wanted and loved🥺

🎀Dies when you pull him down to your height and kiss his helmet, which is we’re his lips should be. To say he loves kisses is a huge understatement!! Will turn around to lift his helmet up just slightly above his lips to properly kiss you. And they ain’t just a quick peck, one and done. They’re a full on steamy kiss with his finger pulling your chin up kinda kiss that have you breathing heavily afterwards

🎀If there’s ever a day where you’re not your usual clingy self, he knows somethings up and needs to know! What’s wrong? Not enough hugs? What can he do to make it up because he misses you bugging him for affection despite sometimes pissing him off, only for him to pick you up and place you on his lap. Which is all yours to set your pretty self up on☺️

🎀Going back to kisses, Clayton just can’t help himself. He loves to tease you and how you always tease him in return. Of course it’s all in good fun, that is until he’s had enough and needs more which ends up in him picking you up over his shoulder and walking to your shared room. He just loves how you bite and nibble around his neck and get drunk of his scent

🎀He prefers to keep it behind doors so nobody can see him be “soft” but that never really works. You just have him wrapped around your finger and he’s practically there when you need him or “need” him. No he isn’t like Ben or Anthony when it comes to pda, but he’ll endure it and let you be cute and allow you to hold his hand or even place kisses on it. Clearly a love sick puppy underneath that helmet of his, but damn he melts every time you come running into his arms after every mission because you missed him so damn much😮‍💨 please just pepper him in kisses and call him handsome because this beefy boi deserves it

🎀From someone who was unsure of affection and didn’t know how to give it, he learned real quick and adores everything that you do to him and how you express your love

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - November 13th

Welcome back! I'm very late and I apologize for that--this weekend has been pretty busy and I forgot to plan ahead for the rec list.

***Marks my recent favorites 

~*~ 

Resolved by FestiveFerret

Okay. He just had to approach it like a mission. Objective: Kiss Tony Stark at midnight.

Safe & Sound by Captain_Panda

Tasked with retrieving missing aliens from another world, Steve and Tony must do the unthinkable:

Pose as a couple.

Always Yours by FestiveFerret

Tony rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to imagine he was scratching the itch on his upper thigh instead. He subtly shifted his weight from left to right, keeping his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. It was hot in full plate mail, but these sorts of political meetings always called for a complete display of power, which included Tony's fanciest armour.

Tony flicked his eyes to each of the hall's five entrances in turn, checking for anything unusual, but there was no movement besides the Duke's hand gestures as he droned on and on about water management. Tony drew his gaze back to the man he was charged with protecting and caught King Steven muffling a yawn with one hand. It was a good thing Tony's face was covered by his helmet or his delighted grin would be visible to all. He had no idea how Steve kept his poker face through all of this.

Tony's thigh continued to itch.

A Diamond Where The Star Would Be by msermesth

Steve works up the courage to return something to Tony.

a love like an old home by Rowantreeisme

Iron Man goes missing. Tony Stark hasn't been heard from in days.

A package shows up at the mansion's doorstep.

Inside it, there's a videotape with Avalon written on the side and a note stuck to the top that says, "watch me first."

We Built Our Own by KandiSheek

Tony honestly didn't expect to wake up again after saving the love of his life in the Red Zone. But when he does, Steve is there. And he has an important question.

try a little tenderness by parkrstark 

Steve wasn’t right for Tony. He wasn’t enough for him, Steve knew this since he had fallen in love with him in middle school. But no matter how helplessly in love with Tony he was, he never considered himself a jealous person.

Not until he met Tiberius Stone. 

turn up the faders by orphan_account

It starts not long after you wake up. You feel it under your skin like needles, like someone is setting fire to your flesh, your nerves, your blood.

Lie de Thé (Memory Serves Me) by docdracula

There is a man.

And

You love him.

How could you not?

his type by storiesfortravellers

Steve's de-serumed and worries that Tony doesn't find him attractive any more.

With an appearance by Tony's porn collection.

Good Enough by nowalee

Watching Tony flirt with yet another person is maybe making Steve a little bit jealous. Or a lot. Luckily, Natasha is there to give him some harsh truths and offer advice.

Or, Steve is jealous, Tony is insecure, and Natasha is done with them.

Worth It by AshitaNewssnoopy

When Steve said he wanted to court Tony, he assumed that he just meant that he wanted to take thing slow. And that was fine by Tony. No really, he could do this thing if that's what Steve needed (shut up, Pepper; he so could). Because Steve was worth the wait.

But then the gifts started coming and the letters popped up and there were chaste kisses and romance and...and what is even with this? Just when did his life turn into a romance novel?

Even Iron Bends by MusicalLuna 

Steve's been in Washington over a week.

Tony Stark Defense Squad (Steve's Had Enough) by orbingarrow

The Avengers are called in by the government to "discuss" recent events, but it turns into a game of Let's Bash Tony and Steve is so not cool with that.

Or, the one where Steve Rogers makes himself the President of the Tony Stark Defense Squad. Matching t-shirts to come later.

The Fear of Consequences by drifloon

It really isn't a problem. Then one day, Tony looks at Steve and thinks, shit. It might be mutual.

driving with my eyes closed by nanasekei

Steve deals with discomfort after losing the serum. Tony helps.

Oversight by ShyOwl

It really wasn’t Steve’s fault that no one knew he was an omega.

They say love is pain, well darling, let's hurt tonight by Moonlight511

Basically just Steve and Tony being insecure before finally talking to each other..

I'll Give You Gifts Until You Know My Name by Amuly

Mr. Stark is an extravagant gift-giver: he has the money for it, after all. As Iron Man, Tony has the opportunity to gift Steve even more presents that, while less expensive, are more heartfelt. Having a secret identity means Tony gets to have his cake and eat it too when it comes to showering Steve with presents.

Until Steve starts developing feelings for his armored companion, and all the benefits of living a double life are turned on their head for Tony Stark.

[bokettochild]

request: sometimes time likes to be alone underwater. with his iron boots and zora helmet, it's easy to just take a stroll at the bottom of a deep enough lake, away from the rest of the world. he did not expect, however, to find legend relaxing inside a small hole in the stone. Mer Legend.

Oh boy! I was vibing with this one for a while, I just wanted to make it perfect!

I'm pretty happy with what I made too, but man is it long!

(I hope this makes you happy, anon!)

When he and Malon have kids, he hopes they don't have this many.

Nayru knows he loves his boys, but they can get a bit much sometimes. They can get loud and overwhelming, and as a man who’s used to traveling primarily alone, with maybe a fairy trailing behind him or his trusted mount, it’s a bit overwhelming. He’s not used to being around people so much, Malon and Talon are his only consistent company and even then, the work they share means that often times it’s only him and his thoughts as he mucks, mends and tends things around the ranch.

Sometimes, when the boys get especially rowdy and playful, it’s just nice to get a moment of quiet to himself. Between Sky and Twilight he knows that nothing overly chaotic will go down, and he trusts the boys to keep each other in check.

So, when they come to the Pup’s Hyrule, their battle in this world over and most of their number restless as they wait for the next portal to arrive and whisk them away, Time allows his boys their space, and with a quick exchange with the only two he can trust to not burn something down (at least while the younger ones can still see them) he heads off into the forest to get a little space to himself.

Of course, he can’t really go far, not if he needs to hurry back, but he doesn’t really need to. His destination is Lake Hylia, which is only a short distance from their camp, maybe ten or fifteen minutes, and, when he gets there, he allows himself to actually breathe for once.

Wild, Warriors and Wind had been locked in a game of cards when last he left, the champion soundly beating the other two both at cribbage while Wars bemoans his poor luck, and Twilight and Sky were discussing wood carving with Hyrule, with the occasional comment from the smithy, who is only too happy to throw in something related every so often as he looks up from his book. That leaves himself and Legend, and he’s long since learned that the vet was one to disappear for his own space when possible.

He’s not overly worried. Legend has items and experience that far outmatch most of their group, and if he runs into trouble Time has little doubt that he’ll be able to get himself out of it to at least gather reinforcements, if not handle the issue by himself.

A deep breath of relief escapes him as the eldest of the heroes pulls a few items from his own bag. The boots are a familiar if not welcome weight as he slips out of his armor and dons the tunic and cap of the Zora, his breath bubbling softly as he steps into the lake before him with a contented sigh.

The cool water floods over the top of him, tugging at his hair and bubbling in his lungs, but it’s doesn’t burn the way that it should. He breathes easily beneath the rippling surface of Lake Hylia, the Zora tunic granting him freedom beneath the waves.

There is little sound beneath, only the muffled noise from above the surface, the flow of the water and-

Time’s ears prick forwards as a single blue eye turns to search the space around him.

Someone is singing.

It’s a haunting sort of melody, one that draws you in and makes you dazed, and Time finds himself stumbling over his own feet as he searches for the source. It is not a Cursed song, nor anything powerful from what he can recall, in fact, it’s almost familiar. It sounds similar to something he hears hummed about their camp at night while the boys take watch. He’d never been able to place which of the young heroes hummed the lilting melody, but he’s let it carry him off to sleep many a time before. Only this song, the one that twines about his head and whispers in his ears and makes his feet trek closer and closer to its source, this song is different, it’s haunted and Broken, and it is sung in a Voice.

Not a voice like most of those above the surface have, but a Voice like a fairy or spirit might have. One that pulls at your very soul and sings in your mind, un-hampered by wind or waves, able to carry across miles to be heard by those that it Sings too.

Heavy feet trod faster.

He’s under no spell, but he is a Link, and by now he has learned that all of their kind are blessed or cursed with courage and curiosity both, and to be without the latter is simply unthinkable for the young-at-heart hero. Something –the forest imp in him maybe- tells him to find the Voice, find the Singer.

He’s only made it part of the way across the lake, hasn’t even left the shoreline properly, when the song stops. Unease creeps over him as he looks around, alert and ready for trouble, only to see nothing but the peaceful stillness of the lake bottom around him.

There! His mind supplies as something pink flits in the corner of his vision, and he’s whipping around to come face to face with-

Long tangled hair drifts in the waves as glistening scales reflect the light pouring down through the waves. Too deep, too dark eyes stare at him in shock for a brief moment, and then-

The creature, the thing, is gone in an instant. Whipping away as it’s glimmer fades into the waves around him, speed no doubt granted by the brilliant tail of the thing sending it rocketing out of his grasp before he even has a chance to speak.

He tried to follow it. He does! But quite soon the adult part of his mind is reminding him how dangerous the thing could be, and that he still has his boys to return to back on the surface. It’s been exactly thirty-two minutes and thirteen seconds since he left them at their camp, and by now they usually would have sent someone to check and make sure that whatever member of their party had strayed off was alright.

Removing his boots is all it takes to float to the surface, despite the fact that he still holds the things in his hands, and it’s with no small amount of relief that he realizes that the bank of the lake is free of other heroes.

Time gathers his things together, wringing out his hair and clothes before returning to his normal gear and heading back to the camp.

Smiles and chuckles greet him as the young heroes tease.

“Go for a swim, Old Man?” Legend quirks a brow, staring up from his place by the fire.

Time doesn’t answer him, but he does shake his head violently enough to spray the younger heroes with water, earning shouts and shrieks from them as they try and shield themselves from the wet. “Seriously, Time?” Warriors moans, wiping lake water from his face. “What are you, a dog?”

Time smirks at the captain and, to everyone's surprise (which produces no small amount of delight for him), he barks.

“What sorts of people have you met in your adventures?” Sky asks a couple of days later, head cocked to the side as he watches his brothers. “You all talk about so many races, but I don’t think I've heard of most of them.”

“Well,” Wild smiles, there’s a glint in his gaze that isn’t quite mischief, but it’s a warning to be wary anyway, because they all know what a crack-pot their cook can be at times. “There’s Hylians, of course, and Sheikah, Yiga, Gerudo, Rito, Gorons, Zora and koroks! You’ve probably already met the Sheikah, since you mentioned knowing an Impa during your journey, and the Yiga are an offshoot of that group.”

Twilight blinks and stares, Warriors furrowing his brow as he two older heroes stare at the younger, but Wild seem entirely unaffected.

“Gerudo are a desert people. They’re really tall, and extremely strong! Most of their race have long red hair and slightly darker skin than the people around Hyrule. They are a society of all woman, with only one man being born to them every hundred years. They worship the goddess Din for the most part, and live out of an opulent city set in the desert where they specialize in the crafting of weapons and jewelry, and the farming of exotic plants.” The champion then proceeds to run down traits and knowledge about the other races, matter-of-factly, as if the details he is sharing are things that everyone from the surface knows.

“Wow.” Sky laughs as Wild finishes. “I had no idea.”

“There’s also the minish.” Four adds. “And the Wind Tribe, who are sky people, of course.”

Sky looks curious, but Four says nothing more, instead gesturing to the other heroes to share their thoughts, which they do.

“Terminans.” Time offers. “Very similar to Hylians.”

“Ordonians.” Twilight adds with a fond smile. No explanation is needed.

The others all nod along, but Legend rolls his eyes. “Humans, like, non-Hylian humans, Shifters,” The vet stares upwards with a light scowl as he ticks the races off of his fingers. “Technically they’re humans too, but Wild counted the Sheikah and Gerudo, so there’s also the Lorulians, Labrynninians, Holodrumese folks, Hytopians, Drablanders, Subrosians, Catalians-” Legend frowns. “I could swear there are more but I can’t really recall.”

Time, for whatever reason, he can’t really say why, cocks his head. “Any water people other than Zora?”

The vet snaps his fingers. “Mer-folk! Thank you, Time. I guess fae and animal folk count on that note.”

There’s a scoff and Warriors is leaning forwards with a smirk. “Fairies and animals, sure, but mer? Seriously, Legend? Have you even met a mer before?”

“Many times.” The veteran drawls, cocking a brow in the captain’s direction. “On multiple adventures. What about you, cap? Jealous you couldn’t snag one for your guild of brides?”

Warriors blusters about indignantly, earning laughter from the others as Legend smirks, but the man recovers quickly enough. “I do not have a guild of brides! That is- that is utterly disgusting!”

“Could have fooled me.” Legend teases, sipping some water from a flask.

“Give him a break.” Twilight snickers, shoving the vet playfully.

The unfortunate thing about Twilight’s shoves though is that the ranch hand doesn’t seem to know his own strength, and Legend is small enough that the light push is enough to send him scrabbling to not hit the ground. More laughter rings about their camp, but this time at the vet's expense, as Legend topples over into the dirt, spilling his drink and failing his arms as he goes.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Legend huffs, pulling himself back up and dusts off his clothes, scowling at the water spilled on him. “Great.”

“Oh, come on, you came back soaked to the skin earlier, what’s a bit of water going to hurt you, huh, vet?” Warriors ribs, smirking.

Legend shoots him a half-hearted glare.

“Legend,” Time starts slowly. “How would you describe the mer?”

The vet pauses, gaze resting maybe a moment too long as his hands as he brushes off the hem of his tunic. He’s already done so and there’s really no reason for him to do it again, but he does anyway. “What you’d expect.” He shrugs haltingly. “Hylian on top, fish beneath. Tail, long hair, that sort of thing.”

The old man hums. Legends ears twitch, nose shivering slightly as violet eyes flit over their group. “Care to expand on your sky people story, Four?”

“I’m good.” The smithy replies lazily.

Time would pass it off as a strange one-time thing, he would, but there are... other factors at play.

They’ve traveled to Four’s time, fighting off monsters and solving puzzles the same as they’ve always done. The boys are taking some downtime, playing hide and seek, and just like the last time, Time takes himself down to the river they’ve made camp ear and dons his Zora gear.

He isn’t expecting to see the creature, the mer, again, much less hear them singing -after all, this is a Hyrule far before his Pup’s- but there the creature is. It- or they- frolic in the water, chasing fish and singing softly. The tune is lighter than the last one he heard, a different song entirely, but there is no denying that it is the same mer.

Gold flecked, petal pink scales shimmer beneath the twisted lights that invade the water, hair of the same colors flowing in the current as long fingers, tipped with pointed claws, reach out to swipe at the fish swimming wildly away. They don’t catch anything, but Time hears it giggle anyways, the tune of its voice bubbling in merriment as it rolls like and otter and turns to explore some other part of the river bed.

The cursed curiosity of a hero niggles in Time’s mind. How is the same mer from before in this timeline, ages before Twilight would even be born? And why do they play and explore as if they’ve never seen this river bed before in their life?

Long claws pull through sand, and although their hair blocks their face from his view, he can still hear the warble of delight as the creature removes something sparkling and bright from the river bed. The mer floats in place, turning the item over in their hands curiously before whisking it out of sight and returning to their search.

A mer that likes treasure, huh? Why is he unsurprised?

His own soft laugh startles them, and for a half of a moment, golden ringed, violet eyes, wide and bright and full of shock, meet his own.

The mer is gone before he can make a move.

He asks Legend about it the next day. As they travel along the path towards the nearest town, Time falls back to ask the vet more about mer.

“Do mer like treasure?”

Legend starts, eyes wide as they meet his own, and something in the back of his mind is nagging him that the look in the vet’s eyes is somehow familiar. “What?”

“Do mer like treasure?” He repeats himself.

Legend stares at him, blinking slowly as they continue along the path, but eventually the vet shakes his head and answers. “Depends on the mer. They’re people too, Time, they can have varying interests and hobbies. There is no standard for mer. None.”

“Don’t they all swim at least?”

Legend’s gaze is flat. “There are disabled Hylians aren’t there? Not all Hylians can walk, and not Mer can swim. Some just choose not to because they don’t like it!”

Time frowns. How does the vet know so much about mer culture? “How do you know this?”

The vet shrugs, eyes darting away. “I’ve been a lot of places and met a lot of people. Mer are no exception.”

“I thought you hated swimming and the water?” Wind breaks in, falling back to join the two of them with an odd look on his face. He looks like a puppy and it’s killing Time not to ruffle the kid’s hair.

“Didn’t always.” Legend returns, smiling wryly down at the sailor. “But enough of that. The real question here is if you’ve ever met one, sailor.”

“A mer?” Wind furrows his brow, looking away with a soft sigh. “The water in my world isn’t safe for the people who lived in it. There’s hardly even any fish in most places. The Zora in my time had to adapt to the air instead in order to survive.”

Awkward silence falls over them, the vet looking guilty for a half a moment before he settles a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “The goddesses aren’t always fair, Maliit, it’s not your fault.

Time hums his agreement, heart aching for yet another young hero and a world that suffered for Time’s failure to have properly saved it.

He sees the mer again. Not just when he’s in the water himself, but when he’s keeping watch during the night or on occasion when he goes fishing with Twilight. The Pup says nothing about seeing gold and pink beneath the water, but Time finds himself watching it all the same.

It darts beneath the dock they’re fishing on one time, and when Twilight’s line gets a tug, the rancher pulls it up only to find the one of his boots dangling from the other end.

Time can’t help it, he laughs.

So, this mer is a prankster, huh?

He takes to seeking them out, trying to catch their attention or try to talk to them, but nothing works. The minute that gold and violet eyes meet his own, petal pink scales flick deftly in the waves and the mer is swimming away.

But Time isn’t dumb.

He knows that the same mer cannot reasonably exist across all of time, not with all the changes that come to the world with each hero. He knows that this being is somehow following them, and h’s got a rather good idea exactly how it’s happening.

It’s a long shot, but he knows for a fact that Legend is always gone from camp before he sees the creature, and enough times startling the vet when asking about mer has taught him that the expressions between the two are the same. All he knows on the mer’s face is shock, but the vet’s eyes glimmer the same shade of violet, even if they are different in size and shape, and the petal pink hair that the vet comes out of the forest with one evening after their group was separated is uncannily similar to the shade of the mer.

They’ve made camp again, and rather than climbing into the water when he catches a moment alone, Time settles on the shore, not in the mood to be in the water but in need of its calming song. The air has been tense the past few days, and Time welcomes a brief moment to relax, forcing himself not to think of the gaping wound in his Pup’s side or the ragged breath that wheezes between the rancher’s lips.

Twilight will be fine, he reminds himself. Hyrule and Warriors had worked together to tend the wound and while it would definitely leave a scar, the danger of losing their beloved friend and brother (and maybe son?) is not so high anymore.

He welcomes a free breath, away from the hurt gazes of his boys as they try and process that their beloved canine friend and the rancher are one and the same. A chance to think without having to stop those who were out of the know from bombarding those who were in it with questions.

He’s glad to be free of the questions himself.

Legend seems to be too, if the glint of pink beneath the waves is to be believed.

He doesn’t approach this time, doesn’t try entering the water to speak. He’s tired and he wants his spae, and he imagines Legend would like his own too. So, instead, he sits on the bank, feet trailing in the water and ocarina on his lips as he plays softly.

The tune is a sweet one, one he’d written himself that lilts and dips softly, very nearly perfect for a dance, but far more suited to a night by a fire or watching the sunset. And sunset it is, fading light stretching out across the water, glinting of the surface and reflecting off of gold and pink-

He stops, eye wide as he turns towards the flash in his vision.

Gold and violet stare back at him, framed in curling pink as Legend freeze half-way through pulling on his tunic again.

Gold fades just as the scales dissapear and leave the vet siting on the shore, tunic still bunched around his shoudlers and violet eyes wide with fear as he regards his leader.

“I won’t tell.” Time forces, turning away his gaze and returning his focus to the instrument in his hand. He doesn’t play, but he doesn’t look up either.

“It’s an item.” Legend forces, strained. His voice is still tainted with whatever power had shifted him between forms, and it’s sweeter and more melodious than normal. “I found it on my third adventure. Got cursed.”

“Like the rancher?” Time hums softly, not having to look up to know that Legend is shifting nervously, foot tapping madly at the ground beneath him.

“Yeah.” Legend huffs.

“Okay.” And he does look up them, calm and as open as he can make himself seem as he meets the vet’s gaze.

“Just okay?” One brow cocks as Legend crosses his arms.

“Just okay. It’s your secret, Legend. I can’t change what I’ve seen, but I won’t tell the others either.”

Legend nods, wary bit willing to accept the words, if only for now. “If you say so.”

They’re on their way back to camp, Legend carrying an armload of fish and Time carrying both of their bags when the vet stops and glares at him. “I don’t want to hear any jokes, alright? I get enough of those from Twilight and Sky.”

“They know?” The old man tilts his head in question.

Legend flushes, ducking his head and setting off again at a speed some might label a scurry. “No. Hurry up, these fish are gonna rot!”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waves lap around his head and it’s all Time can do to break the surface, coughing and hacking as he struggles to remain above the water.

The portal had come at the worst time ever, and no one had been ready to be dropped into the center of the ocean.

Lightning crackles overhead as waves swirl and crash about him. The ocean rages and Time is again reminded how small Hylian’s are in the face of Mother Earth herself.

“Boys!” The shout rasps from his throat as he spins to look about, praying to every deity he knows that he’ll find the rest of them safe and sound, or at the very least together. Never mind that Twilight still can’t walk, much less swim. Never mind the smithy’s shattered arm and Wild’s fear of the water. He can’t panic about those right now, he has to find them!

“Over here!” Sky’s voice answers him. The Chosen Hero clings to the shivering form of the smithy, both are soaked and trembling, but they’re managing to stay above the waves.

“My Hyrule!” Wind calls out as Time strikes out towards them, and the sailor continues once he’s close enough to see that at least five of his boys are safe. “We’re near land,” Wind nods in a random direction and Time wonders briefly how the sailor even knows that. “It could be a challenge in these waves, but we can make it. Have you seen the others?”

Hyrule looks up at him hopefully, the water-logged traveler fighting madly to stay above the water but succeeding despite the waves. Time reminds himself to help the boy learn to swim more effectively later, and more importantly how to properly tread water, but for now he focuses on answering Wind. “You're the firsts. We’ll have to hope the others are alright, getting y’all to safety is my first concern.

“But Wild!” Hyrule splutters, choking on some water as Time swims over to give the traveler someone to cling to. Freezing fingers latch ahold of his armor as teeth chatter, the waves are neither kind nor warm and with their health as it is he’s certain someone is going to end up with a cold when this is all over. “And Twilight! A-and Legend and Wars! They’re out there somewhere!”

“We have to hope Legend and Warriors can elp the other two. We can’t do them any good if we’re fighting to stay above ourselves.” He tries to same calm, but his own mind and heart scream with the same message that Hyrule’s voice does, and its all he can do to push it down.

Thunder rolls overhead and waves beneath as they push off towards the shore, each of the older heroes aiding a younger one as Wind guides them all towrads the supposed island.

Time hs never been so relieved to see sand in his life, and as Hyrule pulls himself up the bach and Wind helps Sky to settle Four, Time can only pray that he’ll find his way back again. “I’m going to look for the otehrs. Wind, stay and help Sky.” The sailor looks as if he wants to hesitate, but he knows better than anyone how a small body can be lost to the waves much easier than an adult. “Make a fire, warm up as best you can. Keep an eyes out. I’ll come back if- when I find the others.”

He stops only to shed his armor and don his Zora gear, but a single dive beneath the water is enough to tell him that it’s for naught. Wind wasn’t joking about his water being toxic, and a single breath of the stuff leaves Time heaving as soon as he breaks the surface.

His chances of finding the boys have lowered considerably.

Nayru above, don’t let anyone have sunk beneath!

Time swims for all he is worth, pushing past weariness as he battles each and every wave. And he’s just beginning to lose hope when he catches sight of something silver reflecting in the water as lighting flashes above.

“Time!”

Blue whips around to meet its twins as Warriors comes to swim beside him. “Have you found any of the others?”

“Wind, Sky, Hyrule and Four.” he breathes back. “You?”

The captian looks rueful but nods to his side. “Legend.”

Time can’t help but start as Legend’s eyes peek above the surface. Golden and violet are glassy in the pale ace of the vet, but they’re there and that means that Legend is alive.

“I’ve officially met my first mer.” Warriors sighs, but there’s worry in the captains voice and face both.

“Split up.” Legend’s voice rasps, and there none of the melodic song that Time is used to hearing from this form of the vet.

Legend is pale, far too pale.

“What’s-”

“Wind’s world.” Warriors tells him. “Water here is toxic.”

The water is toxic. The water, which mer have to breath to stay alive, is toxic.

Time’s gaze shoots to the vet but there’s only a flick of gold and pink as he disappears beneath the waves. Warriors groans.  “He keeps doing that! I swear, I have no way of knowing if he’s even still there, but he still insists on disappearing like the little shit he is.”

Usually, Time would scold his brother for such a tone, but he knows that Warriors is just sacred. He’s terrified, and it leaks into his voice and his actions, and the only way that the soldier knows how to hide the fear is by biting back with venom, not dissimilar to the vet’s own actions.

They swim together, searching and calling out for the two missing heroes. Hope is beginning to fade and Time can feel a gnawing fear eating away at his heart as he thinks of the gaping wound in his Pup’s side and the likelihood that Twilight would even be able to swim with it.

His pup’s chances aren’t high.

“Look!” Warriors shouts over the storm, jerking him from his thoughts as his eyes follow the captain’s pointing hand.

Pink bobs on the surface, backed by bedraggled and soaked black fur as Legend hauls Twilight’s limp form through the water.

“Pup!”

He’s taking the lad from Legend as soon as they’re in reach, and Legend seems to sag in relief as the weight is removed from his shoulder. “Was with Wild. Bring him to-” The vet wheezes and ducks beneath the water for a moment, coming up with a pained expression on his face. “Bring to shore. I’ll get Wild.” He gives them no time to respond, tail flicking as he disappears beneath the waves again.

Time and Warriors exchange a glance and head back to shore, supporting the weight of the rancher between them.

Wind and Sky have managed to get a virtual bonfire going on the shore, and the sailor has laid what blankets and bed-rolls he’s found of their equipment in front of it, allowing their dampened things to ry as he and the other three heroes bundle together for warmth.

It’s with a cheer that they al; greet Time and Warriors as the two emerge from the ocean, and Time can’t help but smile a bit in relief at seeing them all safe again. Only a little longer and Legend will be back with Wild, and then he can rest easy knowing they’re all out of the storm.

Rain still patters against already soaked skin and cloth, but with the fire flickering before them Time can’t bring himself to care over much.

Hyrule’s fingers shiver as they slide over the wound in Twilight’s side, cleansing it from the poisonous water that has soaked into the bandages, and while Twilight grits his teeth and winces, he’s at least conscious enough to do so, and that alone brings some peace to the others.

Warriors informs the others of the whereabouts of their two missing brothers, and Time helps to settle Twilight on one of the warming bedrolls. It made still be wet, but it’s better than getting sand in the pup’s wound.

They wait in tense silence, bundled together to share heat as nervous gazes watch the shore. Wind hasn’t stopped muttering under his breath and Four isn’t doing much better with his half formed sentences and steady murmurs.

It’s only when Wild’s golden hair can be seen on the shore that they all release a breath of air.

Cornflower blue is wide and glazed, likely from shock, but it doesn’t stop the champion from reaching back into the waves to pull out his companion.

Legend is a mess.

The veteran gasps and splutters for breath once he’s free, skin a sickly shade of white and eyes just as glazes as Wild's own as the two clings to each other, and when the two stand together Legend is leaning heavily against the shaking champion, and it’s only through sheer luck that Time and Sky get there in time to catch them before the duo collapses back into the waves.

Wild curls against Time’s chest, fingers shaking and eyes blank as the man carries him back to the fire. Legend doesn’t even stir, lying limp in Sky’s hold as the Skyloftian bustles back to join the other heroes.

Nothing is said about the glistening tail that fades into legs once Legend is warmed and dried, and even if anyone had dared the stern gaze of the first of their number would have been enough to silence them.

Violet blinks hazy and distant beneath the warmed fabric of Sky’s sailcloth, but they are all safe. They are all safe and they are alive.

“Thanks to Legend.” Wild whispers when he comes back, head resting against Times collar bone. “Without him I would have never got Twi back to shore.”

“Three cheers for the vet.” Wars forces a smile, and while the cheers are heartfelt and thankful, they do nothing to lighten the mood.

Legend doesn’t even seem to hear them.

[kyberphilosopher]

Cerise

Those are people who died, died Those are people who died, died They were all my friends and just died.

Word Count: 5736 Warnings: Crime, Weapons, Mentioned Murder of a R/pist, Crude humor.

Jason’s friend and roommate, another Gotham villain, is ordered to return to Task Force X.

ce·rise/səˈrēs,səˈrēz/ [noun] a bright or deep red color.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Let’s open up our story on a colorful note: Fuck Amanda Waller. 

Nobody likes her. You don’t like her. Jason doesn’t like her. None of the characters in this story like her. Arguably, none of the characters in your present universe like her, either. There’s a reason why people call her “The Wall”. It’s because that’s what it’s like talking to her. And that’s what it would be like trying to deny the request she’d passed on to you in her letter. 

It weighed on your mind briefly as you walk up the stairs of your apartment building. By the third flight, the weight’s pretty much disappeared. Sure, there’s anger at Waller for violating your agreement, but it’s so useless being annoyed with her that it washes away fast. So by the fourth flight, the whole thing is settled in your head to completion. You’ll go back to your Suicide Squad- or a Suicide Squad, considering most people Waller selects are idiots. Then you’ll do the job, and walk away bing, bang, boom. 

You tip your head politely as if in salute to the older woman, Mallorca, who occupies the apartment across from you. She returns a warm smile that raises her prominent and wrinkled jowls, igniting the fire in her warm brown eyes. “You need me to do your laundry again?” 

Of course an angel such as Mallorca would make such an offer. It’s not a bad offer, either. Your dark, silver lined chest plate is splattered with blood all over the front. It’s nobodies blood that doesn’t deserve it, as per your agreement with Waller. Just some perverted little prick who thought with his dick instead of his brain with the wrong girl. She looked frightened, and you saved her, and since the prick had just hit 18 (a fact you learned after rummaging around his wallet after), you had permission to bash his brain in. Hence the blood splattered vigilante armor. 

The first time Mallorca had seen such a sight, she had no reaction whatsoever. You weren’t sure what else you were expecting from an old woman living in a back alley apartment building, but it certainly wasn’t that. She offered no shock to your red masked, blood stained roommate either. Mallorca is simply an otherworldly being. And is that cocaine you see on the collar of her shirt?

“I got it,” you throw in return, rounding the corner so she’s at your back, and nearing the climb up the next and last flight of stairs. “Hey, is Jason home?” But when you turn around fully, Mallorca shows no intention of responding and has disappeared down your previous staircase. You clasp your hands against the sides of your thighs, “Oh, okay.”

You make your way up the final steps and stick a hand in a secret back pocket to fish around for your keys. You wince when you begin the rigorous task of tugging the lanyard free from the depths, which unfortunately fell near to your back hole. Then you slip the key into the lock and twist. 

Inside your apartment is near emptiness. There’s a couch, a rug, some windows, a TV, and to your immediate right is a small kitchen beside a hallway that leads to a bathroom and two bedrooms. You see the large plant you’d stuck in the corner is wilted and tinged brown, and the TV is playing some movie with the sound muted. No sign of your roommate, however. 

You toss your helmet and keys onto the couch. Then you make your way to the kitchen to search the fridge for a snack (that you know is not there) or perhaps some water. You bend down to peek an eye in, only to stand back up and close the thing. Then you pass over to the counter, and reach up to now peek an eye in the overhead cabinet. 

“You’re home early.”

You let out a short-but cathartic- scream, jumping as you turn around. You relax quickly. It’s only Jason, and your face changes from shocked and panicked to simply annoyed. 

The man at the other side of the room pulls his infamous red helmet from atop his face. Underneath is a classically masculine, handsome face with eyes that blend between green and blue. Black hair falls free in messy strands, accented by the one white tuft that you’ve claimed reminds you of a skunk. You tilt your head lazily in defeat. “How many times have I told you not to do that?”

Jason shrugs in his red hoodie and jeans, walking across the room to set the helmet on the coffee table. “Four. Any particular reason you’re home so early?” he flops himself onto the couch and kicks his feet up, crossing them tastefully next to the Red Hood helmet. 

You turn back around to continue the task of grabbing a cup from the top cabinet. “It’s been five, and I apologize for assuming I could do what I wanted in my own home.”

“If you have to ask me to stop sneaking up on you five times, you’re probably a really bad vigilante.”

“Fuck,” you mutter as you fill the cup with tap water. “That’s true.”

You turn around to face Jason. His eyes are already on you, illuminated by the blue glow from the television. They linger purely on your form for a moment, then they dip down to narrow at your armor. “Were you the one who killed that guy on the back of main?”

You furrow your brows and look up with pursed lips in thought. “Are you talking about the main diner or the main records shop?”

“Main diner on main street.”

“No, that was Azrael. This was by the records shop.” You raise the glass to your lips.

Jason snaps his fingers. “Oh, that guy. The kid?”

You nod and take another sip of the water. “He just turned eighteen, so you know. Free game. So, what do you want for dinner? Pick something good. I’m going back to the squad so I won’t be here for a few weeks.”

Jason’s brows furrow for a split second, then he perks up attentively. “You’re going back to the task force?” he repeats, though it sounds defeated and disbelieving. Distraught- is that the word you’re looking for?

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I got the letter-” you set the cup of water down and reach a hand into your pocket. Then you pull the crumpled envelope free of its confines and toss it onto the counter, “-today.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrow again. This time the movement is quick and curved and almost offended. “So, that’s it then?”

“What’s wrong, Jason?” you smirk. “Did you finally fall in love with your roommate turned friend? I always knew this day would come.”

“Uh, no?”

“Suit yourself.”

You turn back around and begin rinsing the cup out. Jason watches your back, something in his chest sinking. You weren’t his best friend. Besides living together, you weren’t really all that close. You were living a life a lot like his, running around at night as some antihero vigilante. The only difference was that you’d crossed paths with Waller and had managed to make it out of her system alive. Most antihero vigilante’s weren’t so lucky. Most of them died. But now you’re telling Jason right to his face that you’re going back. That you think you’ll only be gone a few weeks when it could just be forever. Sprayed with dark blood all over... what if it was yours?

“Actually,” Jason leans forward. His legs drop from the table and spread open, elbows resting against his knees with a hunched back. “Why don’t you pick dinner tonight?”

The glass clinks against the metal of the sink as you set it inside. Jason almost always picks dinner. Most of the time he chooses burgers or Chinese. Your apartments stove isn’t working, so eating from home really just means a BLT sandwich for the both of you. 

“Are you offering because you’re hoping I’ll choose that new steakhouse?” you smile.

“I’ll get you anything you want,” the man replies. “It’s on me.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Jason meets you on the roof of the building about an hour and a half later. You wanted to go with him, since you’d say his behavior is different from usual, but he was very adamant about you staying in. Jason even encouraged you to go ahead and pick your favorite movie to watch while he’s gone. 

When you told him you’d decided on the steakhouse option, you meant it ironically. Between the two of you, money could be described as ‘tight’. Going to a new place like that would mean saving for a while. Furthermore, you hadn’t even given him your order before Red Hood was gone. 

To his credit, looking at him now, you wouldn’t change a thing. The first bite of the food is phenomenal. The second bite is just perfect. Jason must have mind reading powers to be so aware of your taste in food- you’d thought he never noticed. 

He gets a steak, as predicted. Jason loves steak. 

Gotham looks most like itself at night, a view shared between the two of you. Two sets of legs dangle over the side of your building, both of which are clad in heavy boots and armored knees. Jason had decided to go out as his alter ego- a fact he thought he could keep from you by putting his hoodie under his leather jacket. 

“I saw you put your helmet by the door,” you tell him. “I know what’s under that sweatshirt.”

“No you didn’t,” is all he says back. 

The wind tickles the back of your neck. It ripples through the air in lazy waves, making Jason’s hair ruffle. The white skunk streak disappears and reappears between the darker-than-midnight-sky strands. Behind Jason, the moon is full and lonely. Its only company is the two of you. 

“Oh my god,” you stuff your mouth. “This is so good.”

“Hm,” Jason hums in agreement, stabbing his steak once again with a fork in his black to-go box. It’s the next movement of his shoulder that catches your eye. 

“Jason, is that cocaine, or powder donut dust?” 

Jason glances over at you. 

Your eyes linger on the white splotch of something in the wrinkles of red fabric. “Because I asked you not to eat them since there’s only two left.”

Your face slowly falls to one of horror as Jason stays still. With a face of steel, he finally says, “It’s cocaine then.”

“Then?”

“Look what I got you.”

Jason sets his box to the ledge beside him and leans down. 

“Worst subject change ever.” You take an angry bite of your meal in an attempt to both silence yourself and to make you feel better. Unfortunately as you pull away from the bite, crumbs attach themselves to your chest plate and stick to your fingers. “Crap. Jason, your dumb food is getting shit all over my stuff!”

When you look over, Jason’s orbs are already on you. His eyes pierce yours, almost unintentionally daring them to look away. The skunk strands glow this close. He holds two things in his hands. The first is a small, brown pot you could balance in the palm of your hand, filled with miniature yellow and red flowers. Scarlet tulips, golden sunflowers, and blonde alstroemerias. In the other hand is a Blu-ray copy of your favorite film. 

“Oh,” is all you can muster out. 

When was the last time the two of you had actually exchanged gifts? You weren’t lovers, or best friends. You were just friends. It had to have been last Christmas, when you had gotten him a TV subscription for South Park and a pair of socks. Jason had gifted you a new bedframe that he later helped you put together. 

A big smile reaches your eyes and makes your cheeks sore. “I haven’t been able to find this anywhere,” you say, taking the movie from his fingers. Your voice comes out pure and genuine. “Thank you.” Your smile grows even larger when you cup the pot of flowers with both hands. 

“All of the flower shops were closed,” Jason explains. “Those are plastic. They won’t die anytime soon.”

At that moment, you swear you could’ve kissed him. He’s looking at you like this is all nothing, like he didn’t just drop big money on dinner and flowers for you. Jason knew what food you wanted before you did. He knew your favorite movie when you can’t even remember saying a thing about it. When had any other man or woman been so thoughtful? So romantic? So caring?

You glance down to the film in your lap. “I didn’t think you payed attention this well.”

Jason’s brow quirks upwards. Something flashes in his eyes as he adjusts his position, seven stories up from the ground. “What kind of roomie would I be if I didn’t?” he asks. Something tells you there’s a shyness blooming in that broad chest of his. Jason’s eyes flit downward to the blood on you, before his head dips back upwards to lock a stare with you once more. “You smell nice,” he states.

You look up at him simply. You know your eyes are filled with pure adoration, and that it’s showing all over your face, but you don’t care. Your red hooded, drug pedaling, bat wrangling, gun toting equal roommate is your favorite person in all of Gotham at this exact moment. 

Behind Jason, a small bird flits overhead with a flash of crimson. “Hey, look,” you pat Jason’s shoulder. His eyes follow yours until they land on the floor of the roof behind you. “I think it’s a robin.”

“I know that bird,” Jason scowls. “That’s the son of the bitch that keeps waking me up in the morning.”

“Hm?”

You watch as Jason swings his legs over the side and pushes himself from the ledge. One hand reaches into the back of his pants while the other searches his leather jacket pocket for something. After a few seconds, he produces both a clip of ammo and a gun, which connect with a click. 

“Ah!” you yelp, placing both the flowers and movie on the brick before copying your friends actions and standing on the roof. Jason hasn’t shot yet, but the gun in his hand is aimed right at the little birdie. He’s got a clean shot. His face remains neutral and unmoving as you take your place beside him. 

It’s a full minute, and the robin is still alive and intact. He nibbles on a little crumb of bread. “He looks happy,” you think out loud. The air of Gotham goes quiet up on that roof, despite the distant sirens, music, and people throughout the city. “Are you gonna shoot?”

Jason’s finger lingers over the trigger. Even the slightest of a squeeze would set the weapon off at this point. The balls of your feet move to and froe, anticipating the bang you’re so familiar with. But then Jason lowers the gun completely, and the robin flies away at the movement. “Nah. He’ll feel the pain I dish out in the morning.”

“Don’t be sad,” you nudge Jason. “He’ll be back at six AM tomorrow to wake you up.” You turn to return to your beckoning food on the ledge. “Thanks for all this, anyway.”

“You’re welcome,” you hear Jason respond. “Hey Y/N?”

Jason watches you spin until you’re completely facing him. He can see the blood again. How it’s completely standing out against the darkness of your outfit. You look powerful, yeah. And you look like the antihero you’re labeled as. But all Jason sees is a corpse of a... of a friend. “Yeah?”

“You’re sure about this Waller thing?”

“Yeah?” you reply, as if it were obvious. The stain on you is so haunting it’s easy to think otherwise. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. It’ll only be a few weeks. I’ll be back before you know it. Then I can show you this sick ass movie.”

Then you go back to walking towards the ledge to retake your seat. But Jason remains standing. He watches as you, the person he thinks of naked so often, get comfortable, your back facing him. And, despite your word, Jason has the sinking feeling that some Suicide Squad mission isn’t the only place Amanda Waller will send you to. 

This time, Amanda Waller will send you to your grave.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

This was supposed to be out on August 16th, for Jason’s birthday. But the concept came to me too late and I spent too long on it. Anyway, here’s some symbolism for ya.

Tulips symbolize unconditional love. Sunflowers symbolize adoration. Alstroemeria’s symbolize devotion. The reader describes the plant in their apartment as turning brown, suggesting it may share a similar fate as the reader as plants go brown when about to die. Robin’s symbolize optimism, a trait the reader displays towards the idea of returning to the Suicide Squad. Robin was also a former identity of Red Hood. Both of which could be why Jason decides to spare the bird. 

I’ll go back and proof read this in the morning.

[fallatyourfeet]

A Northern Light - Part 49

Summary: Tyrion and Grey Worm have made plans to smuggle (YN) and Jon from the Red Keep and out of Kings Landing, but will it all come tumbling down now that Jon has made a spontaneous plan of his own.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, anger and violence. Death of a character.

Word Count: 4663

You can find the series masterlist of ‘A Northern Light’ linked to the masterlist in my bio.

Please feel free to drop me a message, comment or ask, your feedback would be very much appreciated..

Tyrion slipped through the door, leaning against it until it clicked shut behind him and rushed across the floor to (YN)’s side. Cradling a heavy linen bundle against his chest, he dropped it to the ground, his hand immediately beginning to search his pocket as he kneeled down beside, “We don’t have long, a new set of guards will arrive shortly.”

Pulling a large corroded key from his pocket, his hands fumbled trying to unlock the shackles around her wrists, before (YN) took it from him, her hands surprisingly calm as she worked the lock and with touching sincerity, she thanked him.

Helping her pull apart the shackles, Tyrion threw a rusty iron nail amongst the chain that now sat in a pile beside her and almost chuckled, his lips curling into a half-smile. “This is me, thanking you. Without you, we would all be part of the army of the dead... And the streets outside this castle would be lined with far more casualties.” Stopping a moment, he stared at her with admiration, “Do you realise how many people you saved with your last-minute changes, sending in your reinforcements for the civilians?”

(YN) rubbed the tender skin around her wrists and cast her eyes to the floor, “Not enough. I knew this was going to end badly, and still, I agreed to-“

Shaking his head, Tyrion interrupted, “You saved thousands (YN), there are thousands sheltering in northern tents outside these city walls, because of you.” Tyrion began unwrapping the bundle beside him, “And without your intervention, Daenerys would have executed my brother, but he is alive and safe in Winterfell because you forgave him.”

(YN) watched him unwrap the linen, revealing an unsullied suit of amour, helmet and all, thinking it was a rather ingenious plan to get her out of there, and as her fingers began untying her tunic, Tyrion found himself humbled by her words. “He deserves forgiveness... he is not the same man who pushed Bran from a tower all those years ago.” Standing up, she gave him an awkward look and immediately his cheeks flushed with colour, realising it was time for him to avert his gaze, so she could strip down and change. Turning his back to her, she continued to speak, “Life has a way of changing people... some for the better... and some for the worse.”

Tyrion features softened, she really was wise beyond her years. He could see it the moment she arrived at Winterfell as a young woman, barely out of childhood. And with everything life had dealt her since, she could have changed for the worse, turned her cold and bitter... vengeful and mad, but it had not. She was essentially the same, just wiser, smarter, more confident and accomplished. And somehow, still humble and unassuming. Everything a queen should be, yet, rarely was.

Walking across to the window, he opened it, before (YN) announced she was ready, turning around he found an Unsullied soldier staring back at him, albeit a very pretty one. Gesturing towards the door, he picked up her tunic which she had already wrapped neatly in the linen and began walking, “Grey Worm has a spear for you just outside.”

Stopping him by the arm, he could see she needed to get something off her chest before they left the room and he had a fair idea of what that something was. “Tyrion... I know Daenerys is your queen, but you need to-“

With Grey Worm just outside, Tyrion kept his voice low, “She is not my queen anymore... I know what I have to do... and I will, but first I have to get you and Jon far away... And when she is gone, I will pledge myself to you both.” Tyrion paused a moment, before continuing with an awkward grimace, “Maybe just don’t let Grey Worm privy to my little plan... otherwise I won’t survive the night.”

Reaching the door, he wrapped his palm around the latch, but her soft voice had his hand dropping back to his side. “No Tyrion... Jon and I don’t want the crown. Nor do we want to rule the north... If we survive this, we want nothing more than to walk away.”

Caught in a rare moment of speechlessness, Tyrion struggled to respond, and after a string of half mumbled words, he finally said, “...But you can’t, there’s no one else.”

(YN) almost smiled, “There’s always someone else.”

Tyrion shook his head, “No one is more suitable than you and Jon... Neither of you were born with royal titles and yet, there’s no one more equipped for the job.” A short silence followed, Tyrion catching a falter in her expression, a brief moment when her eyes averted from his. She knew something. Something she was not willing to share and it was his words that reminded her of that something. But this was not the time for prying. At least for now. Besides, her expression told him she would not be easily swayed, the gentle shake of her head affirming her stance. And so, he said nothing until he reached back up for the latch, responding as he opened up the door, “Well, I do hope you reconsider... now please, put on that helmet.”

Upon entering the passage, Grey Worm nodded a wordless greeting, handing her the spear, before looking to Tyrion, “You must go, the guards will arrive shortly.” Then turning to (YN), he instructed, “You must walk two steps behind Lord Tyrion... keep your head up and helmet down, and they will think you are his guard.”

(YN) nodded in understanding, before taking a step towards him, placing a hand to the side of his arm, “I know this would not be easy for you... to go against your queen... for me... Thank you, Grey Worm.”

The commander of Daenerys’ army barely moved. Leaving his hands folded tightly behind him, he shifted only his gaze towards her, and yet, his voice was bound with unmistakable gratitude, “I do it to thank you. Without you, there would be no Missandei.” Though his very next breath saw him grow restless, his gratitude giving way to hesitation, suddenly uncomfortable, but determined to continue, “I serve my queen, but she is wrong. You are not guilty of what she says. And you should not die for her lies.”

With her hand still resting against the side of his arm, she held his gaze, her palm applying gentle pressure to reaffirm her words, “Again, thank you Grey Worm. I will not forget this.”

“Sorry, but we must hurry,” came Tyrion’s voice, as he began heading down the long passage, “The guards will be on their way. Remember to keep a couple of steps behind, we don’t want to arouse suspicion.”

Catching Tyrion, she replied with concern, “I worry for Grey Worm. He will be implicated by his presence during the changing of the guards. Him being there will seem suspicious.”

Disagreeing, Tyrion shook his head, “It won’t, not at all. He has always overseen the changing of the guards. It would only cause suspicion if he did not stay. I am hoping they will think you have escaped through the window.” Silence quickly befell them when the sound of marching footsteps travelled along the passage, followed by two guards appearing from around the corner, relief flooding their lungs when they marched straight past without a second glance. Neither of them risked conversation again until Tyrion guided (YN) into a small room within the castle. She had no idea of where she was, until Tyrion shut the door behind them, pointing to another door across the room. “Through there is a passage that will lead us directly to the Throne room. We will wait here until we hear Grey Worm arrive and send the guards away.”

But it seemed Jon had other ideas.

The darkness beyond the destruction of the throne room grew heavy, night had set in and Jon stared off into it, his gaze unfocused and appearing deep in thought, Daenerys none the wiser to what really coursed through his mind. He had never been a deceitful man, and he hoped it would act in his favour because if he was going to succeed in killing Daenerys he need her to believe his lies. Feeling her inch a little closer, he returned his gaze and searched her features. And after a moment of forced contemplation, he asked, “How can I trust you to keep your word? How can I believe no harm will come to her at your hands or from those at your command?”

Daenerys turned and walked across to the throne, and Jon’s shoulders slumped with silent disappointment, she was so close, one step closer and he could have reached her neck. Now he could only watch as her fingertips grazed along the surface of the bloody thing, her back turned and face hidden. “With you as my husband, the people will accept me as their queen. But they would soon turn against me if I execute your wife.” Leaving her hand moulded firmly around one of the many pommels, she turned to face him. “I know you love her Jon, and I think by now you know that I hold much affection for you... and I do not wish to hurt you by causing her harm.”

It was a lie, even from the other side of the room he could see it, but he wasn’t about to call Daenerys a liar, that would be stupid and reckless. Internally, he smiled to himself, maybe some of (YN)’s wisdom had rubbed off on him after all. And so, he decided to play along. With a familiar tone, he called her by her first name, something he had never done before, at least not in her presence and she certainly noticed, her body language softening at the sound of it upon his lips. “Daenerys...” he waited for her to respond, though it didn’t take long. Before his very next breath she took a step towards him, her hand slipping from the pommel, giving him her undivided attention, “If I agree, I must have your written word that no harm will come to her, from you, your army or any of your allies.”

Daenerys smiled and nodded her head, pleased her little plan was working, “That’s reasonable, I will have Tyrion write up the paper.” Taking a deep breath, she folded her hands before her, “It’s the right decision, everyone will prosper. You, (YN), myself and most of all, Westeros.” An uncomfortable silence settled between them and Jon had to drop his gaze to his feet, unsure he would be able to hide his disgust. Visibly sighing, his posture sunk and Daenerys could only surmise it stemmed from defeat. A fleeting moment of guilt, carried her across the room, requesting his attention as she softly called his name, “Jon?” Silence lingered again, before he wrapped his fingers around his wrist, rubbing at the red grazes her shackles had made. Looking back to her, his deep grey eyes worked hard to hide their deceit, but thankfully all she noticed was the pain and anguish she had created, her fleeting moment of her guilt enduring a moment longer, yet it didn’t soften her resolve. “I do not expect you to ever love me, not the way you love her, but I hope with time you can develop some form of affection for me... I do care for you, Jon.”

With all his strength, Jon forced his attention back to his wrist, fighting the disbelief that wanted to curl his hands into fists. Moving the shackles as much as they would allow, he rubbed at the skin, his frustration showing when the roughness of the contact caused the grazes to bleed. How? After what she had done to (YN). After what she had done today, did she expect he could ever develop any affection for her? And how did she expect him to trust her? When only this morning she promised to cease fighting if the bell tolled, but instead lost complete control, burning down the city and its people. Even if (YN) had never existed, he still couldn't love her. He could barely believe this was the same woman who unselfishly chose to fight with them against the Night King. Never had he seen someone fall so far from grace, so quickly. Swallowing his bitter thoughts before they formed destructive words, he held his breath, finally responding to her admission, “I can not make promises of affection, but if you keep your word I promise to keep mine.”

Seeing a drop of blood fall to the floor at his feet, Daenerys pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve. Stepping forward she reached for his arm, denying the warmth she felt when he didn’t recoil from her touch. With gentle fingers she inspected his wound, speaking as she wrapped the linen firmly around his wrist, “I do not expect you to return my affection... I only hope for it.”

It was now, or never. He wouldn’t get another opportunity like this. Even with the weight of his shackles, he was blindingly quick. Covering her mouth, he gripped so firmly that his fingertips turned white, finally releasing the breath that was bursting in his chest, just as every bitter thought came flying from his mouth. “Affection, for you? After what you’ve done..? I could never.” Daenerys’ eyes went wide with fear, or was it shock? He wasn’t sure, nor did he dare think about it, trying to ignore the feelings of guilt beginning to whisper words of regret in his ears, forcing himself to remember that this woman killed thousands of innocents without cause. She was a tyrant, unstable and liable to lose control again, killing thousands upon thousands more. And just maybe, if he killed her and confessed as the sole perpetrator to all her absurd accusations, he could save (YN) from execution.

Gripping even tighter, his eyes flickered past the broken walls of the throne room, gesturing to the ruins that lay outside. Looking back, his voice shook, “Have you seen? Children. Little children burned. Whole families dead. Tents filled with the screams of unlucky survivors, so badly burnt their flesh hangs from their bones.” Spinning around, he pushed her against the wall, her head hitting with a cracking thud, his other hand stretching around her neck. “Cersei surrendered, the bell tolled. None of this had to happen.” Jon felt his hand tighten, restricting the flow of air through her throat, watching as the colour began to drain from her face. Her hands feebly trying to fight his iron grip, as he spoke the last words she would ever hear. “You are no queen and you will never rule this country.”

Daenerys’ hands had long stopped flailing and her pulse no longer thrummed beneath his palm, when he finally let go, guiding her lifeless body to the floor. And even though he had been left with no other choice, his actions created a pit of guilt loitering heavy in his conscience. He didn’t move, he just stood there staring at her lifeless body until a familiar, yet wholly unwelcome sound came rushing towards him like a fast-moving storm, the darkness of the sky making it impossible to see, but he knew what was coming. Drogon.

The floor shook beneath their feet when a terrifying roar vibrated through their chests. (YN) and Tyrion froze, their eyes fixed upon each other, both of them well aware of exactly which beast had arrived for a very untimely visit. Yet, the very moment the roar transformed into the unmistakable sound of blistering flames, (YN) was gone, her feet rushing across the room to the door. Tyrion chased after her, worried about what she would see on the other side of the passage and concerned Drogon would redirect his flames to her. But she was too fast. When her fingers reached the latch he called out for her to stop, but his words fell on deaf ears, watching as she opened the door without a slip of hesitation. With spear in hand, she made quick work taking down the soldiers guarding the throne room, their shock at the commotion going on behind the doors undoubtedly making her task much easier.

Without a backwards glance, she stepped over their bleeding bodies and using the full weight of her body pushed against the huge wooden doors, the pair of them swinging open to their full expanse. (YN) disappeared inside without a thought, but as Tyrion reached the doorway, he froze, unprepared and speechless at the scene unfolding before him. Swallowing up half the hall, stood Drogon, more ferocious than he had ever seen him, directing all his rage upon the Iron Throne. The heat radiating into the passage was almost unbearable as the inferno of his breath reduced the royal seat to little more than flowing streams of lava. Tyrion felt the air in his throat seize up, confused as to what had provoked such a response in Daenerys favourite beast, the answer soon found when he dragged his eyes from the forge of flames to scan the room. Daenerys. There she was, laid carefully upon the floor, her body still and lifeless. Beside her, was Jon, his stance wide and protective as he used his body to shield (YN) behind him, his arm doing the best it could to protect his face against the radiant heat.

Rendered helpless, Tyrion was able to do little more than witness the tragedy about to unfold before him. As soon as Drogon was satisfied with his work upon the throne, he would turn his attention to the northern king and queen, the pair of them soon to meet with the same fate as Varys. And both of them knew it, Jon screaming in desperation, “Go (YN), you can’t stay here... Get out while you can.”

Tyrion couldn’t hear her reply, but it was obvious, she wasn’t going anywhere. However, she wasn’t quite ready to give up either. Turning to him, she called out his name, and although he couldn’t hear her it was easily read her lips. She wanted the key to Jon’s shackles. A moment of hesitation gripped Tyrion’s feet as his hand reached into his pocket, all the while, his eyes were caught on Drogon, fruitlessly trying to determine how long he had left before he was done destroying the throne and ready to destroy them. In the next moment, he swore under his breath and dashed across the floor, refusing to look at Daenerys body behind him. The blistering heat made it impossible to concentrate, his fingers fumbling with the lock and key, every erratic beat of his heart only adding to his troubles. And just like before (YN) took it from his grasp. How in all the hells did she keep her hands so steady? Shaking his head, he took a much-needed breath and said to her, his voice filled with dry humour, “You, my northern queen, are going to get us all incinerated.”

“You might be right, but I can’t just leave him here.” Before she had even finished speaking, (YN) unlocked the shackles, and both she and Jon began running, pulling him along with them. But it was too little, too late. Barely reaching the middle of the throne room, they were stopped in their tracks when Drogon slammed his enormous foot in front of them, blocking any path of escape, the wake from the impact knocking them from their feet. He could have easily crushed them all, but it seemed he had far more torturous intentions in mind, the fury in his fireless roar almost pinning them to the floor. Managing to drag themselves back up, (YN) pushed Tyrion away, “Go... you don’t need to be here.”

The momentum of her push sent Tyrion stumbling backwards, out of Drogon’s line of fire. And before he could react he found (YN) stumbling beside him too, when Jon followed her lead, “Both of you, get out of here... He wants me, not you.” (YN) called out, it was a horrifying sound bringing unmistakable pain and anguish to Jon’s face, but he didn’t falter, pleading, “Promise me you’ll head home. Your home. Take the free folk back across the wall and don’t return until it’s safe to.” Looking to Tyrion, Jon’s eyes conveyed an unspoken request, and Tyrion understood immediately. It was up to him to get her safely out of the city and to decide when it was safe for her to return. Answering with a simple nod, their unspoken exchange brought Jon some resemblance of relief, a brief second of relief that disappeared when (YN) ran back to his side.

Shaking her head inconsolably, she grabbed his face, fighting the tears that breathed life into old nightmares. Around her, the crumbling walls of the throne room dissolved, replaced by the blood-stained walls of Walder Frey’s feast hall. And before her, stood another husband asking her to leave him behind... to leave him to die. “NO, I can’t. Not without you... I will not lose you too.”

Taking her hands from his face, he gripped them tight, his voice breaking and full of anguish, “You must... promise me you will-“ Jon never got to finish his plea, when Drogon recoiled to take a deep breath. Wrapping his body around her, she disappeared within his embrace, turning his back to the grief-stricken dragon. It was pointless really, his body would be no shield against Drogon’s flames, but it was pure instinct. Together, they closed their eyes, bracing themselves for the end, hearing a low rumble deep in Drogon's throat, a rumble that would any second ignite the flames of his roar.

What must have been a fleeting moment, seemed to carry on forever. Daring to look over his shoulder, Jon stared down Drogon’s opened mouth, barely noticing his razor-sharp teeth as he stared beyond at the glowing ball of flames. The low rumble grew in volume and speed as the dragon’s head began descending towards them, ready to unleash his breath and all Jon could feel was utter failure. He had failed to deliver on his promise to Robb. Both of them had come so far, and survived so much, only to die when freedom was finally within their reach. But the flames never came.

Once again the floor shook violently beneath them, but this time it wasn’t Drogon. Appearing from beyond the broken walls came Rhaegal, crashing into the throne room, his roar so menacing they all took cover on the floor. Tyrion was dumbfounded, the beast had been left behind at Dragonstone, how could he possibly know he was needed here, right now in the capital? Slightly smaller than his sibling, Rhaegal pushed out his chest, stretching himself upwards, placing himself between his brother and Jon, the two dragons almost filling the massive room. His stance was protective and full of warning, completely shielding Jon from view. And just to make sure there was no misunderstanding, he lunged forward and bared his teeth with a thunderous intimidating roar.

Drogon stood his ground, he was bigger and stronger and he knew it, and yet, his rage simmered off, allowing Rhaegal a moment to divert his gaze behind him. The distressing sound that resounded in the dragon’s throat when he saw his mother’s lifeless body was gut retching. It was almost a whimper and Tyrion couldn’t recall ever hearing a more heartbreaking sound from an animal. Throwing his head back, his whimper transformed into a scorching roar, his cries unleashing a shower of flames that travelled up and across the ceiling before raining down the walls.

“Go Tyrion, while you still have a chance,” Jon yelled, sure they were about to face the rathe of two angry dragons, but he couldn’t bring himself to move, the weight of his fear gluing him to the floor. Stuck there to either watch the tragedy unfold or to die alongside them. And he was sure he wasn’t going to wait long. At the sound of Jon’s voice, Drogon’s nostrils flared and the spikes on his back bristled, losing patience to seek his revenge, but Rhaegal didn’t budge, responding like a protective father guarding his young. A threatening rumble rolled from his chest, warning his brother to keep his distance and to Tyrion’s great surprise, the black beast listened. With telling caution, Drogon inched around them, never taking his eyes from Rhaegal and with every step he took, Rhaegal followed, mirroring his every movement, never allowing Jon within his sight.

Leaning down, the grieving beast gently nudged his mother, but of course got no response, nudging her one last time before collecting her in his monstrous talon with surprising tenderness. Stopping before Rhaegal, he waited quietly for him to say his goodbyes, his brother's sizable head dwarfing hers as he tenderly brushed against it, her white Targaryen hair tangling amongst the sharp green scales of his snout. Taking a step back towards Jon and (YN), Rhaegal looked to Drogon, his nostrils releasing a burst of air as he shook his head as if bidding them farewell. And just like that, the giant black beast departed, disappearing into the night sky with his mother’s body tucked safely within his grip.

None of them could speak, unable to process what just happened. A minute ago they thought they were all but dead, and now it seemed life had given them another chance... well, Rhaegal had given them another chance. It was so silent, everyone stood motionless, unsure what their next move should be. But the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from somewhere down the passage soon had Rhaegal unsettled, his wings eager to take flight, looking to Jon as he made a flurry of impatient sounds.

“Go Jon, go now... both of you.” Tyrion hurried over, throwing his hands out in front of him, guiding them towards Rhaegal. Panicking, he looked over his shoulder, searching the hallway just beyond the door, thankful that the fast-approaching footsteps had yet to reach them. Turning back, he urged, “Hurry. That will be Grey Worm. He will not forgive what has happened here.” Holding Jon’s gaze, he instructed, “Do as you asked (YN). Take the wildlings beyond the wall. When it’s safe for your return, I will get word to you.”

With a half nod of his head, Jon pursed his lips. It was a small smile filled with unspoken gratitude. But as he extended his hand, he spoke, his strong northern accent coming through plain and sincere, “Thank you Tyrion, you're a good man.”

Crouching down, (YN) smiled softly, taking him by surprise when she hugged him tightly, speaking before she let him go, “Thank you. I will not forget what you have done for us.”

Unused to such gratitude, Tyrion dropped his eyes to the floor, unsure how to respond. How could he accept thanks from the two people who were willing to give up everything to save the world from the Night King? Two monarchs guided by the goodness of their conscience, who risked their own lives time and time again to fight alongside their people. Saved thousands, defying a queen that was supposed to be a saviour, a queen he naively believed in. And they did it all knowing it could deliver them a death sentence. They had endured so much loss, so many hardships, and still, they remained kind honourable and unselfish. How? How could he begin to accept their thanks?

And so, he said nothing. Pushing them towards Rhaegal, Tyrion watched them climb upon the dragon’s back, and smiled as he raised his hand goodbye, releasing a huge sigh of relief as they disappeared beyond the darkness of the city walls. Because they were the best kind of people. And they had done enough.

It was time for them to start living for themselves.

@tessimagines @irrelevantyettopicalusername @badasseddy @magicstrengthandcourage @sj-thefan @crockgoblin69 @xeniarocks @700teacups @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @heyohheyitsgabi @olixerwxxd @thefanficfaerie @sparkletash @elliee1497 @buckybarnesyard @courtenbae @thesithdiaries @seriouslynogood @witch-of-letters @lady-of-the-golden-flower @mixer2b @ocean-calls-me @deathbyarabbit @avengersassemblee @belcvayelena @qween-of-trash @cherryblossomllama @patdsinner @soleil-dor @ya-lyublu-tebya @dreamer-snail @my-soul-is-the-moon​ @jae-writes-fanfiction​ @h-hxgirl​ @sarcasm-n-insomnia​ @lovelyladymayyyy​ @httyd-marauders​ @amazingfantasticmarvelous @dominique-hawkins​ @frozenhuntress67​ @captainofallfandoms @allyouhavetodoisjumpoverthemoon​

[martamatta95]

(AU-Fantasy)

Din is a bounty/monster hunter, he finds himself in the Kingdom of Tatooine where, in the capital, Mos Espa it is rumored that a ferocious dragon dwells among the Dunes. Many hunters have set out to track him down, but none have ever returned.

Din in need of money and with an extraordinary child to look after (Grogu is a demigod who has chosen the Mandalorian as his guardian, while the Imperials chase them to capture the child for his power).

He sets out for the Dune Sea following rumors that the Dragon has a lair near a small mining town called Mos Pelgo and that he keeps the citizens under his control for use as slaves and a source of food.

With a little difficulty Din finds the city thanks to the indications of the Tusken. They venerate the Dragon as their patron deity and warn the Mandalorian that he can see through the soul of every living thing, even through his beskar.

When he arrives at Mos Pelgo, the townspeople seem to be peaceful and happy, which you don't expect when a ferocious dragon threatens your life.

Din talks to various people and becomes more and more confused, the citizens say that there is no dragon and that all the bounty hunters who have come before him have either stayed in the city entering the community or have gone into the desert to look elsewhere.

Din's searches are interrupted by the Marshal of the town and the Mandalorian is struck by him, Cobb Vanth.

There is something that fascinates him about him, maybe his smile or his kindness...

Grogu shares this sentiment and, as soon as he sees Cobb, he just wants to be held in his arms.

"Mando, there is no Dragon", Cobb smiles as he leads them on a tour of the city.

"But the rumors...".

"Good stories to keep evil people away, the only ones who come here to try to deal with this 'Dragon' are lone adventurers who usually have nothing left to lose. Some choose to stay because they just want some peace or they found a home here".

"There is a bounty on the Dragon", Din points out and, as he speaks, his shoulder brushes against the Marshal's as he realizes how much heat the other man is giving off. A pleasant and reassuring warmth, perhaps that is why Grogu is snuggled against him so tightly, Din almost envies him. He envies both of them, because he would like to bask in warmth like Grogu or would like to give the little one the same contact, but the beskar armor and his religion dictates that he cannot take off his helmet and armor in front of strangers, but only close members of his family, like a spouse or child.

"There's always a bounty", shrugs Cobb, "Look around, we're all former slaves and this was a real mine of the Hutt family. We rebelled about 20 years ago".

"I have heard stories about the fall of the family that formerly ruled Tatooine with an iron fist," Din muses, "It is said that the young prince had with him a rare and wonderful creature from another world, but it rebelled and...".

Grogu makes a sad little sound and Din turns to look at Cobb, the child stroking the Marshal's face, while he seems lost in horrible memories and is clenching his fists.

Din is certain that, for a moment, his eyes were tinged with gold. Then Vanth closes them by taking a deep breath and pushing away whatever had caught him.

"Who knows...", Cobb shrugs and then smiles brightly again.

Does that smile make Din's heart flip, that Cobb is a sorcerer? Or maybe...

"Why don't we get you something to eat?".

Grogu nods enthusiastically and Din follows them to the town tavern.

After a while Grogu is filling his face with tasty eggs and worms, while Din stares at his bone soup.

"You can go to the back to eat, there's never anyone there", Cobb tells him with that stupid smile again.

"Why are you so nice to us?" Asks the suspicious Mandalorian.

Vanth shrugs, "It really looks like you need a break from whatever is chasing you".

"Nobody is chasing us", Din speaks too quickly.

Cobb smiles again, stroking Grogu's head with affection and then observes the bounty hunter softly.

"You can stay when you want, Mando. I know what it's like to escape for your life or someone else's. I don't care who you are or what you've done, I can read through people, and you two just want a moment to rest. This city is a place to heal, no one forces you to stay and we are ready to stock up on food for the journey if you wish, but you are more than welcome to stay for a while".

Cobb ends the speech with a wink and then gets up and leaves the tavern.

-

Din chooses to stay a few days by renting a room in the tavern in exchange for some jobs in the small town.

At first Din was afraid that Mos Pelgo was just a facade for something horrible and bloody. He expected someone to kidnap him and Grogu in the middle of the night to feed the dragon.

He was so convinced, that he had set a trap at the entrance to the bedroom, but the only thing the Mandalorian has caught is a Marshal trying to bring breakfast.

Cobb found himself coiled in a thick rope with bantha milk all over and two excellent plates of bacon and eggs on the floor.

"Maybe I should have knocked...", Cobb admits his mistake and then laughs at the whole situation.

Din spent the whole morning apologizing and cleaning up the Marshal. The Mandalorian has since accepted the idea that, perhaps, Mos Pelgo is indeed what he seems.

-

Other days pass, Grogu is peaceful and happy playing with the children of the small town, while Din...

Something terrible has happened to Din, he has finally figured out what symptoms like illness or poisoning are, when he watches or talks to Cobb...

He fell in love, it had never happened to him before...

What kids go through in adolescence, Din is going through now. Try to be as alone as possible with the marshal when they do something together and his eyes are always on him when Cobb comes into sight.

The Mandalorian is at peace here... but he cannot stay, he has to bring Grogu home and he has to look for other Mandalorians...

-

The day before Din's departure, Cobb takes him and the child to a viewpoint of the Dune Sea, the place is beautiful and the company is even more so.

The Mandalorian is about to open up to Cobb, if he deserves it after all he has done for them he wants to tell him the nature of their trip and, perhaps, his feelings about it.

But then they are brutally interrupted. Imperial Golems, the Dark Troopers, rush from the sky and wreak havoc.

They fight a bitter battle and Din finds himself having the worst of it to protect the boy and the man he fell in love with.

Then, when the Dark Troopers take Grogu to take him away, fire surrounds them and out of nowhere a massive dragon makes an appearance of him.

His skin is as thick as Din's beskar with bright red scales with white/silver veins. Powerful wings, 4 legs and a jet of fire to wipe out an entire village

The Dragon destroys every single Imperial golem while protecting the child and the bounty hunter.

Din notices only after the battle is over that Cobb has disappeared and fears that he may have been kidnapped or eaten by the dragon or...

As he mulls over these thoughts, the Dragon turns to them showing how much he is bigger and more powerful than a human being.

Grogu smiles and approaches him fearlessly embracing the warm belly of the creature.

"Grogu!", Din calls him worried and this draws the golden eyes of the reptile on him.

The Dragon observes the nasty wound in the Mandalorian's belly and approaches examining it.

Din points the sword at the creature, but it is Grogu who with small verses shows him that all is well.

"Where's Cobb?!" asks the Mandalorian staring at the dragon's face and slowly lowering the weapon.

The creature seems to snort in amusement and then opens its mouth by sticking out its tongue.

"What are you...?", Din does not have time to finish the sentence that the Dragon is licking the serious wound in his belly.

The Mandalorian opens his mouth wide in amazement, he feels no pain, he is fading... the wound is slowly healing.

He had heard stories about the miracles that dragons can do, but he never believed them.

"Thanks..." Din says at the end.

The Dragon shakes his head and then a hot steam is released from his body and the Mandalorian observes in amazement the body shrink and the wings retreat along with the scales and tail.

Din gapes at Cobb naked and curled up on himself as he breathes deeply.

"Hey partner", Cobb smiles visibly tired, "Could you lend me your cloak?".

The Mandalorian is completely stunned by the revelation. In the end it is Grogu who moves to undo Din's black cloak and pass it to the Marshal.

"Thanks, little friend", Cobb smiles, covering himself.

"There was no dragon..." Din whispers, struggling out of his amazement.

"Let's say it's not the Dragon you expect to meet", Cobb says softly.

"But one I would like to meet... ', Din says at the end looking the marshal in his eyes. And if before there was attraction now the Mandalorian is sure to desire him more ardently.