#mantle hook

[yourcoffeeguru]

Vintage Solid Brass Christmas Tree Mantle Hook Stocking Hanger Holder || SWtradepost - ebay

[ehlnofay]

Pax should have said no.

Damn it all, they should have said no. Should have said go to hell and fucked off back – stop contacting me, sort out your own shit – but they didn’t, fuck knows why, and now they’re stuck here.

(They know why. They know exactly why; absolutely anything would be better than fucking off back to Cyrodiil. What’s for them there?)

But there’s nothing worth staying for here either, and now she’s crammed in between strangers on a long table, everyone dressed in fabrics she’s never seen with dyes so saturated they seem almost gory, eating stuff that isn’t food and talking loud enough to make her want to hurl a glass into the wall. It’s bizarre. The woman next to her, ruddy-faced and bald, wears a headpiece that shines like the sun the Isles doesn’t have; the other side is taken up by a stranger in a bone-white porcelain mask who has not moved but to swill the wine around in their glass. There’s scarcely room for Pax’s chair. It all feels like such a baffling pantomime of aristocracy (she's known the real thing well enough – feasts and toasts and luxurious gifts she had no use for, and if she doesn’t stop thinking about it she actually will throw a glass), bright colours and rich settings and a god taking offerings at the head of the table.

At least, Pax thinks, no-one tries to talk to him; they’re too busy fawning over their lord. Which is probably to be expected; but it all feels so strange, so unsettling, the way they all lean in towards it like flowers turning to face the sun, like seaweed dragged at by the inescapable pull of the tides. They grow towards it through the cracks in the air, matter moving toward the inevitable centre, as if they can imagine nothing more than this.

(Even more unsettling is the way it responds in kind, listening attentively to anyone who speaks to it, leaning in as though to kiss them, as though to swallow them whole. All hell, why did Pax agree to this? Why did they come?)

(They should have told it to fuck off. Should have said no way, I don’t want to help you, don’t want to get involved in anything you’d need my help for. I don’t owe you anything. I don’t need anything from you. I don’t want anything to do with you. I’m done.)

(Pax is done. Pax is sick to death of all this shit; doesn’t want to deal with this, the vaguely described problems of a god that picks people apart like it’s unravelling a thick yarn shawl. Doesn’t want to deal with anything like this. He’s had his fill of gods.)

(Why is he still fucking here? Why did he agree to this? This is no better than eating in that weird fucking inn in town. This is no better than –)

(That’s a lie. It’s a bit better than Cyrodiil. Just as much a shithole, but it pulls the rug out from under him often enough that he doesn’t have time to think too much.)

“Not hungry?” says a prowling voice, coiling catlike into the plaits in their hair, and Pax jumps enough to jostle the masked bastard sitting ramrod straight next to him.

He looks up.

At the empty placemat across from him sits a figure veiled in gossamer, glittering in the glow of the lit-up lichen on the distant throne; the fabric of its endless shawls pulls apart at the ends, peeling away from itself, shedding patches like iridescent insect wings every time it shifts. If Pax squints, they can see through it to the grand marbled wall behind.

She glances back at the chair at the head of the table, where something lounges, eyes dripping gold, intricately carved cane laid across its knees; its too-many fingers are laced with the hand of a man whose gown blooms floral. Flatly, she says, “What the fuck?”

“Aren’t you hungry?” Sheogorath asks, pouting; she can hear it laughing down the other end of the table. “It’s a proper feast. We pulled out all the stops.”

Pax shifts their eyes away to peer down at their plate. “You have served me worms,” she says. She flicks the dish with a fingernail. “In jelly. With flowers.”

“Larva, actually,” Sheogorath replies. It’s still at the other end of the table. It doesn’t seem eager to explain this. When it smiles, the gossamer falls away; its whole face splits in half.

It’s all so fucking stupid. Pax takes a deep breath – in through the nose, ignore all the odd spiced smells, and out – and does not yell at it, or try to hit it, because she’s gotten herself into a situation where that’s not really an option, because she’s a fucking idiot. Why didn’t she just say no?

(She knows why.)

The Mad God’s teeth flash bright as the ornate silver cutlery. Its chair scrapes back from the table. “It melts in your mouth,” it tells her, eyes glittering, “but I won’t make you try it. Walk with me?”

The figure still sits at the head of the table, snatching something from someone’s plate, always, always laughing. Its limbs sprawl like tentacles, like the silken threads of a tapestry, to encompass the whole room. The dinner guests stare as though bewitched, bedevilled, beguiled. Not one of them is looking at Pax. If he were to drop dead with his face in the food his corpse would not be discovered until sunrise.

Pax sniffs and shoves his chair back from the table. He lets Sheogorath (the second Sheogorath – but it must be, what else could it be?) lead him through a narrow door into some winding hallway, the walls lined and rimed with ornate coloured-glass windows. (It’s so much quieter. Still as garishly bright, but Pax is getting the sense that that is inescapable, here; the clothes they wear, as crumpled and covered in travelling-grime as ever and startlingly out of place against the odd jagged finery of the dinner party, seem unimaginably dull in comparison. Everything seems unimaginably dull in comparison.) Outside the windows, they can catch glimpses of the city – its winding, lamp-lit streets, the jumbled mess of its architecture, the sky arcing above it like a child’s attempt at watercolours. Pax wants to smash it, tear it down.

There’s no sun here, but still it’s night. The sky has shifted to purple and black.

“Isn’t it nice?” says their companion; when they look back, it’s nothing more than a shifting impression in the stained-glass window, a series of hairline cracks. It still manages, somehow, to smile at them.

It’s not. The sky is a shadow and the flamboyance of the palace is scraping at their spine. “Sure,” Pax says flatly. When she flexes her fingers, the bruising staining the base knuckle of her thumb aches.

Sheogorath looks at her – an ancient man leaning on a stick, a flickering painting, a bloody corpse, a little girl in velvet-red skirts, a breath. In its mercurial shifting she catches the flowery blossom of the man at the table’s collar, an unpleasant glimpse of her own braided hair, the smell of sulphur. It tips its head. She can’t focus on it anywhere but for the eyes.

“You don’t like my dinner parties,” it announces, as though it’s a revelation, a tragedy; its body crumbles like sea cliffs slowly eroded by the ways. It’s annoying – bloody obnoxious, and incomprehensible, and kind of weird that it noticed, that it would even care. (She’s never liked dinner parties. Nobody ever commented on it before.)

I’ve had well enough of them, Pax could say, or no, I don’t like you, but it’s the fucking Mad God, Daedric Prince of – Pax doesn’t even know what, he’s never known much about this shit, only that it’s well worth avoiding. Prince of the mad and the missing and the foolish, of breaking and breaking and putting yourself back together backwards. She should have said no, but she didn’t, and who knows what would happen if she went back on that now?

It's slinking closer. All that stay static enough to make out are eyes and teeth.

“Pax, yes?” it says, soft-voiced – a hand lands on his arm, small and dry and shivering, the skin as thing as a mouldering leaf. “You have no obligations here. If you want to be on your own, be on your own. We’ve plenty of space for it.”

Pax’s eyes narrow. He does not jerk away from it.

In the light of the coloured sky, the coloured windows, its face is phantasmagorical. “If you don’t want to be here,” it continues – still so skin-pricklingly gentle – “then your hand will not be forced. I’ll speed your way home if you wish.”

They can’t help but twitch at that. It’s setting their teeth on edge. (It’s lying – has to be. After its ages of coaxing them in, meting out information, not telling them where they were until they were on its doorstep, it would not give them the chance to leave.) Rough, still covered in road-grime, Pax asks, “Why should I believe you?”

(None of them have ever given them the chance to leave.)

Sheogorath, a figure of hollow skin and bone, inclines its head. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Pax,” it says. Its eyes are wide and bulging, whites on full display like a frightened horse; it grins again. “Others might. But we’re not a monolith. We’re not even especially similar.”

Pax bites down on the flat edge of their tongue. “That doesn’t mean anything to me.”

The light coming in through the windows flickers. The Mad God turns to meet it.

“I’m the youngest,” it says, its voice glittering like mist on the air. “Did you know that? I don’t remember the world without you in it.” Its form spasms, volatile, wings and limbs and eyes like a snail’s on stalks sprouting and choking and subsiding back into its mass. “I’m closer to you than any. I understand, almost.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Pax repeats. She’s gritting her teeth, tonguing at her gums where two are missing. Are two devil-gods not enough to deal with for a lifetime? Is there really going to be more of this now, too?

Rolling through the air like smoke, the voice says, “It will.”

Pax presses purple-green knuckles to her mouth. Her teeth dig into the soft meat of her lip.

Sheogorath turns to face her, hair moving as though blown by the wind, as though tugged by the tides. It sighs. “You don’t believe me,” it says. Its tongue pokes through its teeth. “That’s perfectly fine. Clever, even. But if you want to leave, all you need to do is tell me so.” It pauses, then; the train of its strange, gnarled crown shifts over its shoulders when it moves its head. “Or just leave. The door is still open.”

“You’d be fine with me just leaving,” Pax rasps around his knuckle, “after weeks of not leaving me alone?”

(Of begging him to come, poorly-hidden agitation giving way to blatant franticness, half-swallowing the fear that choked its face in every mirror it spoke to him through. Of begging him still, after he got here, after he met it – begging in a roundabout manner, casual as anything, its every motion reeking of fear. Its abject terror when he turned to leave. You’ve come this far. Why not hear an old man out? Pax told it that it wasn’t an old man, that he didn’t give a shit either way, and it slid through a child, a monster, a sulphur-burned body coughing blood, his own shuddering form in armour he hasn’t seen in months, and it said please.)

(Regained its composure, its gentleman’s face, immediately afterward. But it – the Mad God, unknowable, inconsolable – said please. Pax still doesn’t know what to do with that.)

The Mad God, now, shrugs. Taps at the hairline cracks in the stained glass windows. “I’d prefer you didn’t,” it says, one pair of hands braiding something intricate into its beard. The hand on the glass slips down. “I told you. I do need a champion.”

“And I told you,” Pax bites, something aching and ugly surging in their gut, “not to call me that again.”

A smile, bloody-mouthed and beaming. “But we will abide,” says Sheogorath, and digs its fingers into the cracks of the stone. One brick slides loose, mortar dug up under its nails. It offers it up.

Pax licks their teeth and takes it.

The brick shivers, momentarily – crumbles, in their hand, like sand slithering through their fingers, and left in their palm is a hardy slip of bone. Spiked and sprawling, carved with intricate patterns; it arranges itself around an oval of empty space, the perfect size for four sharp-knuckled fingers.

“You can always leave,” the Mad God tells them, and for a moment it does look so very young and strangely, staggeringly hopeful. “But give it a chance. I think you could love the Isles, if you choose to.”

[jhsharman]

"boxed in"

Coloring in Reggie's deep part. Though, the blue becomes more meaningless in terms of the shine it represents.

The shift to Gray is interesting -- I guess we now have a long street pavement instead of sky.

Here they decided to change the color for the first panel the white in the next panel instead of the yellow in the preceding panel.

Continuity error of sorts -- the pink rag becomes white in the second recolored panel. Also kind of curious -- delineate the can top, now white instead of gray. And, I think that was originally a couple of banana peels on his head.

Reggie now has white socks.

I do like Samm Schwartz's background character.

I guess the new lines mark an affect of eyes jolting wide open or switch to confounded expression.

From wikipedia:

The phrase "cross word puzzle" was first written in 1862 by Our Young Folks in the United States. Crossword-like puzzles, for example Double Diamond Puzzles, appeared in the magazine St. Nicholas, published since 1873. Another crossword puzzle appeared on September 14, 1890, in the Italian magazine Il Secolo Illustrato della Domenica. It was designed by Giuseppe Airoldi and titled "Per passare il tempo" ("To pass the time"). Airoldi's puzzle was a four-by-four grid with no shaded squares; it included horizontal and vertical clues.

Crosswords in England during the 19th century were of an elementary kind, apparently derived from the word square, a group of words arranged so the letters read alike vertically and horizontally, and printed in children's puzzle books and various periodicals.

On December 21, 1913, Arthur Wynne, a journalist born in Liverpool, England, published a "word-cross" puzzle in the New York World that embodied most of the features of the modern genre. This puzzle is frequently cited as the first crossword puzzle, and Wynne as the inventor. An illustrator later reversed the "word-cross" name to "cross-word".

AND

Not all of the attention drawn to the crossword puzzle fad was positive: A 1924 editorial in The New York Times complained of the "sinful waste in the utterly futile finding of words the letters of which will fit into a prearranged pattern, more or less complex. This is not a game at all, and it hardly can be called a sport ... [solvers] get nothing out of it except a primitive form of mental exercise, and success or failure in any given attempt is equally irrelevant to mental development." A clergyman called the working of crossword puzzles "the mark of a childish mentality" and said, "There is no use for persons to pretend that working one of the puzzles carries any intellectual value with it."

[herpsandbirds]

Clawed Arm-hook Squid aka Black-eyed Squid (Gonatus onyx), mother with egg mass, family Gonatidae, off the coast of Costa Rica

The mantle length for this squid is about 18 cm (7.09 in).

photographs via: Schmidt Ocean Institute

[wileys-russo]

you’re a mean one mrs grinch II a.putellas x reader

you’re a mean one mrs grinch II a.putellas x reader

"more?" alexia sighed in disbelief as you returned from your shopping trip, bags of decorations in hand. "yes. its december!" you rolled your eyes, reaching up to peck her lips hello ignoring her grumpy mumblings at your holiday habits.

"it looks like a shopping store window in here." alexia crinkled her nose in disgust as you had already started to put out your new decorations.

"well not everyone hates the holidays as much as you amor." you quipped, the girl rolling her eyes and helping you hang the north pole sign you had in your hands as you were just not tall enough to reach the hook.

"i do not hate christmas." "well you don't love it." "because it is all about money and presents and lies and flashy things. it is corrupt!" "sure sounds like you hate it."

"oh! wait here." you held up a hand cutting her off before she could speak, the catalan rolling her eyes and checking you were out of sight as she rushed around hiding a few of the ornaments sat around on the tv cabinet and mantle.

"look, matching!" you beamed happily holding up the matching sets of pyjama pants and tank tops, alexia grimacing at the sight of them. "princessa i am not wearing that." she refused stubbornly with a shake of her head.

"just during the night when we watch movies. no one has to even see them! they're just for me and you." you smiled softly as alexia sighed and you perked up as it looked as though she might give in.

"...no." the midfielder decided, taking a seat on the lounge.

"please alexia!" you groaned, no amount of pouting or puppy eyes getting your girlfriend to even budge an inch. "no." the girl replied bluntly, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned back into the lounge staring up at you.

"why? you're being unreasonable." you huffed, crossing your own arms and staring right back. "no." was all you got back, the older girl unwavering in her firm stare. "baby." you tried again, moving to sit down on top of her with a smile as she raised an eyebrow.

"no."

you threw your head back and groaned loudly, standing up and storming off to the bedroom. alexia watched you go, contemplating going after you but instead deciding to give you a little space and time to cool off.

"amor." you glanced up from your book with a sour glare around a half an hour later, eyes flicking back down to the pages in front of you. "bebita." she took a seat on the edge of the bed as you huffed and continued to ignore her.

"hermosaa." alexia sang out, hand reaching out to gently tug the book away and place it on the nightstand, shuffling closer to you. "no." you mocked her word from earlier sarcastically.

"you know i do not go all out for christmas." alexia's hand settled on your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. "but it is my favorite holiday and you will not even meet me halfway." you protested. "ugly matching clothes are not halfway amor." alexia chuckled, missing the way the hurt flashed across your face at her words.

"fine." you felt a surge of anger replace the pang of pain in your stomach, pushing her hands off and storming out of the room. "hey cariño what-" her eyebrows furrowed into a frown as you began to yank down the decorations and toss them into a pile on the floor.

"what? you hate it anyway, you think it is stupid and meaningless and-" you struggled through your waves of emotions to get your words out, instead huffing and now turning to the tree continuing to pull things down, alexia's eyes widening in shock as your destruction continued.

"hey bebita no, stop por favor." alexia frowned moving to take your hands in hers, trying to pull your body in for a hug as you harshly shoved her away. "i need some air." was all you managed out, grabbing your jacket and shoes by the door and suddenly it was slamming closed and you were gone.

alexia tried calling you over and over, her worry increasing as you declined her calls again and again and the magnitude of just how much she upset you began to sink in, immediately followed by the guilt.

her hand was on the front door ready to try and find you when her phone rang, the device falling from her grip and clattering to the floor in her haste to answer, the brunette dropping to her knees and rushing it to her ear.

"hola? amor?" she breathed out without bothering to check her caller ID. "hola, grinch." alexia frowned at the unfamiliar term. "mapi?" the midfielder sighed, standing to her feet and shifting the phone against her ear.

"you have really upset her ale." the brunette wincing at the serious tone from her normally playful best friend. "is she with you? i will come now." alexia grabbed her keys and flung open the door, two steps down the hall before mapi discouraged her.

"she has gone for a drive with ingrid to see the lights display down main street. something i know she wanted to do with you!" mapi's tone softened a little as alexia sighed, retreating back into her home, yanking her jacket off and dejectedly making her way back to the sofa.

"there are a lot of things she had planned to do with you, she showed me a list she has on her phone. have you done anything for the holidays with her since the break started?" mapi questioned as alexia winced.

"...no."

"alexia." mapi sighed in disappointment from the other end of the line as the midfielder sank down into the sofa. "she is from england capi. christmas is a very big deal there and she has grown up always celebrating, always with her family, probably doing their own special traditions." mapi started to remind her friend in a warning tone.

"but she chose to stay here with you this year, to spend time with you and your family. but you cannot expect her to just forget everything she has grown up with and knows. this is not easy for her, i am sure she misses her family and how they spend the holidays together." the defender lectured as alexia sighed, body now wracked with guilt.

"she could have gone home! i told her that." alexia sighed rubbing a hand against her face tiredly. "bah ale! that girl loves you amiga and she knows how much your family mean to you. especially during the break in season when you get to see them more, and we both know how much your mami loves her." mapi laughed as alexia finally cracked a small smile, the fact truer than she often cared to admit.

"so i am not asking you to lead a christmas parade or dress up like santa clause and hand out gifts. but at least try to make sure there are things she does not need to miss during the holidays." mapi finished, the two chatting for a few more minutes before alexia ended the call and tossed her phone aside.

she had some serious work to do.

"and you know you are welcome to our house anytime yes?" ingrid asked for what felt like the tenth time this evening as you laughed, pushing her lightly and assuring you understood.

the two of you had bonded over both choosing to remain in spain for the holidays, missing the typical snowy white winters you were used to for the women you loved.

"i should get inside. i need to apologise for leaving and not even answering her calls, she is probably worried sick." you sighed, unbuckling yourself as ingrid pulled you into a tight hug and you kissed her cheek, thanking her for listening before you stepped out of the car.

sending your girlfriend a text that you were on your way up you bounced nervously on the balls of your feet as the elevator seemed to take even longer than usual to reach your floor, your hands playing with the hem of your jumper as finally the doors opened.

your eyebrows raised in surprise to see the taller girl already waiting for you outside your shared apartment, relief flooding her face at the sight of you as she met you halfway in a bone crushing hug.

"i'm sorry for leaving and ignoring you." you mumbled into her chest as she cradled your head and firmly shook hers. "i am sorry for being unreasonable hermosa." the catalan rasped apologetically, the two of you embracing one another for a few more silent but needed moments.

"did you enjoy the lights?" alexia asked once the two of you pulled away as you gave her a curious look. "mapi called, let me know you were okay." you nodded in understanding at that. "they were really nice." you smiled in response to her previous question.

"maybe we could go? take alba and mami?" alexia asked hopefully as now you really gave her a look of surprise. "but i didn't think-" she cut off your words by leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. "close your eyes please." she pulled away and requested with a smile of reassurance.

you were aprehensive to do so but you followed her orders none the less, alexia moving behind you and covering your face with her large hands 'just to be safe'.

you heard her key rattle around in the lock for a moment before she guided you inside, steadying you as you tripped over once of her shoes and almost lost your footing. a kiss to the cheek and a soft apology murmured in your ear she continued to guide you as you tried to work out where in the house you were right now.

"open." you felt her hands drop from your face as your eyes opened, blinking a few times to adjust before your hand flew to your mouth and you looked on in awe. "alexia..." you trailed off, not just the living room but now your whole apartment decked out in various matching christmas decorations.

you melted seeing the stockings hung up, making your way over to them and tracing a singular finger over the letters on the bottom of each one indicating one was clearly yours and one was alexia's.

"i am stubborn cariño, i know that." you turned as the brunette in question began to speak, nervously playing with her fingers.

"but you have always loved me and stood by me. you gave up christmas with your own family to spend time with mine and i appreciate that more than i have allowed you to see, which is unfair." she paused as you moved closer, grabbing her hands in yours with a squeeze.

"i still do not love christmas, i never will. but i love you and i do not want you to have to give things up that you love and find special because i am a...how do you say it?" you frowned at her obvious struggle, the girls broken english though not perfect had improved since meeting you, as had your spanish.

"ah mierda mapi said it before! a gringo? no. a gri-" she continued to struggle, huffing in frustration. "a grinch?" you guessed as she exlaimed happily and nodded. "si! a grinch."

"do you even know what that is?" you laughed, moving to wrap your arms around her as she shook her head, lips moving against yours sending your head into a spin. "its perfect ale, and i love you too." you smiled resting your head against her chest.

"you are perfect hermosa." she smiled charmingly, kissing your cheeks with a grin as you blushed. "i would like to watch a movie." you stated suddenly, brushing away her hands and gesturing for her to sit down.

"one more thing. stay here!" alexia gently pushed you to sit down instead, holding up a finger and hurrying away. you busied yourself texting mapi a thank you, not hearing her return until she cleared her throat.

"good?" alexia asked, your hand covering your mouth as she stood dressed in one set of the matching pyjamas you'd gotten the pair of you, a santa hat sitting lopsided on her head. "very good." you beamed, alexias heart melting at the way your eyes lit up, silently promising herself she would never let them dim.

once you'd hurried off to change into your own set the two of you had cuddled up together on the lounge, your back settled against alexia's front as you flicked through trying to find the movie, her hands massaging your shoulders as she laid soft kisses to your neck.

"this one." you beamed, clicking play and laying back down into her more, her arms snaking around your torso and settling on your stomach as your own fingers interlocked with yours.

"how the grinch stole christmas?"

[cheriecelestial]

Angel Pt.1

pairing*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Red Hood!Jason Todd X fem!reader

disclaimer*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ fluff. slight suggestive content (?). swearing. canon typical violence. kinda long. not proofread !

a/n*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ based on that one prompt “Wow ! You’ve grown so much since I last babysat you” “I want to rail you so bad”. Reader is like 26 and Jason is 19-20. Set in the WFA verse + joyfire are a team. Kinda non canon complacent. Smut in part II

Part II

Under the nocturnal skyline of Gotham perched on a towering building was the vigilante anti- hero Red Hood watching, observing the city like a hunter stalking its next prey. His jacket whipped against the wind of the boisterous and animated city. He closed his eyes and listened to song of wailing sirens and the distant cries of people, ready to respond to the city's calls for help.

Gotham was a city that, much like its vigilantes, thrived in the night. The city was hued in the rapturous and vivacious of the nightlife. Neon signs flickered casting flashes of colours across the pavements of the night clubs. People scattered across the pavements like ants, some making their way home from a tiring day of work, others more aimless and leisure - their destinations less defined and indulgent. He pulled out his grapple hook gun and shot to a building a few blocks away from where his bike was parked.

In the shadowed alleyways, Red Hood felt a sinister presence stir. He kept walking without letting them know that he noticed their presence. By the footsteps, he could tell six no.. seven. Four of medium build and three a bit more burly. Judging by their lack of ability to mask their footsteps, he could guess they're amateurs. Well in all honesty, almost everyone was an amateur compared to him. Slowing his pace, Red Hood's hands instinctively moved to his holster, anticipating a potential confrontation. Nothing beat the thrill of beating up bad guys. However, amid the approaching group, he discerned another set of footsteps — urgent, lighter, tinged with fear, and most importantly heading directly toward him.

He felt someone clutch the lapel of his jacket desperately. "You're a vigilante, aren't you ? Please help me sir. I think there are bad people following me." Red Hood looked to his side and saw a woman much shorter than him and shaking like a leaf in wind. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her. It had been almost a decade since he had gazed into those warm large eyes—a fragment of his childhood that he had long relegated to oblivion. Jason Todd had what most would call a troubled childhood. Abandoned by his birth mother and the only other one he had dead from drug abuse and an even worse father who died the hands of Two Face. Tossed through the foster system, he eventually found himself on the unforgiving streets of Gotham. Amid the darkest moments of his youth, one saving grace remained —his angel,Y/N L/N. One he completely forgot about when he assumed the mantle of Robin.

"Help me please." She implored, her voice trembling and on the verge of breaking - the same one who would calm his raging storm on bad nights and tell him that he was going to be okay, and in the moment he swore he was. Her gaze shifted between the men and the vigilante, moving closer to him without realizing to shield herself from the villains in the shadows. Almost as if in a trance, he raised his gloved hand to caress her cheek as if to check if she was real or not. "Just follow my lead." He spoke in a low tone and the woman nodded frantically. His hand encircled her wrist and he started running, dragging her behind him the second he heard the thugs charge. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't think twice before starting a fight and having it his way. But he couldn't bear endangering her in the slightest so getting her to safety was the only viable option.

Her breath came in rapid gasps, and beads of sweat glistened on side of her forehead as they navigated the maze of alleyways in their path. The flickering glow of distant streetlights created fleeting glimpses of their pursuers. Her heart pounded in her chest like the strumming of a frantic drum as adrenaline pumped poisoned her veins. Jason noticed that she couldn't run fast enough to outrun the thugs with her stamina. "Sorry about what I'm about to do”,he warned in a hushed whisper and without hesitation, he lifted her over his shoulder and began running. Y/N gasped, clutching onto the vigilante for dear life. Wind ruffled her hair as she watched the vigilante leave behind their pursuers effortlessly. "You know if this vigilante thing doesn't work out you could try out for the Olympics." She muttered not realizing she said it out loud. Red Hood let out a gruff laugh, "I could but I like beating up bad guys and saving people such as yourself just a tad bit more angel." Y/N blushed at the nickname but waved it off as commonplace banter.

He set her down next to his bike. And took off his chocolate coloured jacket and draped it around her shoulders. "How could I ever thank you?" The h/c haired woman smiled at him with a smile so infectious that the corners of Jason's lips curled up without his realising under his mask. "Don't thank me just yet princess. They aren't near done." Y/N blinked in confusion and followed Red Hood's line of sight where she saw three black cars racing towards them. Her features morphed from relief to horror and alarm in the blink of an eye.The vigilante revved his bike and looked at her,"What are you waiting for?" The woman looks at the approaching cars and back at the vigilante, contemplating her options and got on the back of his bike. His hand envelops her and plants it onto his waist as if silently asking her to hold onto him. Y/N flinches at the contact as it she touched something really hot and retracted her hand.

The masked vigilante plucks a helmet out of the saddlebag and strapped it on her head."You might want to hold on angel." Y/N hums in acknowledgment and holds the grab handle behind the seat. Jason rolled his eyes at her refusal to hold onto him and revves the engine making her lurch forward and crash into his back. Realising that doing this any other way apart from his was futile, Y/N timidly encircled her arms around his waist.

The vibrations of the engine shook her whole being as he raced down the streets. The streets, trees, people blurred in her peripheral vision and she started feeling light-headed. Gathering all the morsels of courage she could find, she looked behind her to see the thugs chasing them. They hadn't lost the three cars and things just got worse when she saw a man peek his head out of the window with a fun in his hand. I'm so dying today. She clasped her hands tighter around him and pressed her face against his rigid muscular back in fear.

Sensing her unease, he looped his arm around her waist and pulled her infront of him. Y/N let out a yelp from the suddenness of the contact.

"What are you -"

"You don’t want your back facing them when they start shooting soon." Y/N looked over his shoulder to the thugs and then sunk back into and then sank back against his chest.

"You know if it makes you feel better just know this is an average Tuesday for me." Y/N blinked at him incredulously and in a small voice muttered,"It's Thursday today." A nonchalant shrug was all the answer he decided to give her. How the hell does he manage to remain calm through it? I'm on the verge of a panic attack and he's swerving as if this is a joyride in his kingdom. And in that moment if someone said that he was the king of Gotham, Y/N would find it hard to refute it.

The bike picked up speed causing the h/c haired woman to crash against his chest harshly. It was as if the pressure of the wind glued her against him. To calm herself, she decided to try concentrating elsewhere. Absentmindedly trailing the ridges of his armour and the red bat symbol on his chest. She heard whispers and rumours about Red Hood, the prince of crime, the scourge of the underworld—an outlaw employing more lethal methods against crime than Batman. Despite initial conflicts with Batman, he was acknowledged as a Bat vigilante some time ago. This man was dangerous and unpredictable then why did he feel so familiar to her ?

“I know I have god-tier pectoral muscles but I’d appreciate if you stopped distracting me like that.” Red Hood quipped, sounding almost smug at her fascination. Heat rushed into her cheeks and she quickly withdrew her hand, realising how inappropriate that must’ve felt and hastily clarified,“ I’m so sorry, I’m not a pervert I swear.” Y/N felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.

“Hold on.” Red Hood skidded the bike across the road with a loud screech, making Y/N wince at the sound of the metal scratching against the gravel. He loaded his gun with one hand still wrapped around Y/N protectively and aimed at the tires of the approaching car. “I’d suggest for you to not look at it.”Y/N averted her gaze and moments later, she heard a series of crashes and explosions.

“Jesus Christ I thought I was going to die !” She exhaled in relief. Red Hood turned his face towards her slowly and looked at her as if deadpanning through the mask,“ I’m here you know. What makes you think I’d let you die ?” He retorted taking full offence of her words. “I- I didn’t mean it like that -” she stammered, partly scared to offend the vigilante.

"Whatever I'll drop you off." Jason rolled his eyes and patted the seat behind him. Y/N hesitated, remembering her mother's warning about getting on bikes with strange men, but given her current situation, she realized it was too late to dwell on that now. With no one pursuing them, the ride felt much more pleasant. The speed and the wind against her hair seemed to turn her blood to gasoline as the air dissipated from her lungs. Adrenaline fueled activities weren't for her, at least that's what her sense of self preservation told her. Y/ N pressed her cheek against Red Hood's back. Vigilantes had a symbiotic relationship with the city and as was a common saying in Gotham "The less bats you run into the happier your life is." She knew that this encounter might be a fleeting one, so she decided to relish the moment for now.

Feelings and thoughts were long forgotten, where everything faded into the background and only her physical self exists and the dancing lights at the hazy edges of her vision offered an intoxicating taste of freedom that was indescribable — stripped of obligations, responsibilities and consequences.

Y/N almost doesn’t notice when he stopped the bike. “Do you plan on holding onto me for long ? Not that I mind but we’re here.” Red Hood hopped off the bike and Y/N took off her helmet and hung it onto the handlebar. She scanned her surroundings, they were in front of a five star hotel with sports cars parked on either side of of the road. “Why are we here ?” The woman asked following behind the masked vigilante. “Well for one I don’t know your address so I can’t drop you home and second it’s too late so you should stay the night at a hotel and go home in the morning. It’s safer that way.” Y/N stared at him in disbelief,“ But I don’t have the kind of money to rent a room in a place like this.” Red Hood retrieved a key card from his pocket and placed it on her palm,“Who said anything about paying ?” The h/c haired took it reluctantly and slowly walked to the entrance of the hotel, looking back at him again and again. It wasn’t until she was inside the hotel that she saw him drive off. Y/N walked to the concierge desk and showed her the card. The receptionist eyed her with suspicion considering how she looked so out of place compared to her opulent setting. “Please fill this form. It’s for security purposes.”

The form asked things like her address and her phone number. As reluctant as she was, the receptionist looked like she wasn’t letting her through unless she filled it. Wary of the dangers of misuse of information, Y/N tried to keep her responses as brief as possible. Paranoia was the best friend of a Gothamite considering everything that went down in this hellhole. It was good to always assume the worse and subsequently prepare for it.

The receptionist offered her a tight smile and walked her to the suite. Calling it a suite was an understatement since it was the penthouse on top of the hotel. Just how rich is this guy ? Y/N assumed that the house was a property he didn’t live in because the place lacked personal touch. Either that or he was a real minimalist which was unlikely considering bat vigilantes’ love for theatrics. Y/N wondered if all the bat vigilantes were like a huge family with Batman as papa bat. Where would Red Hood fall in the hierarchy ? If she were to guess, she’d say he was probably the black sheep of the family. Y/N looked around the house, it was one straight out of architectural digests with its high ceilings and cool grey and white interior. She looked at the time and decided it was best if she hit the shower and go to bed and finally put an end to this crazy day.

Jason Todd checked into the hotel the next morning and was greeted by the overly friendly receptionist, personally he didn’t mind fangirls but anyone with even half a braincell knew the risks of being a vigilante groupie. She passed him the form that Y/N filled. He couldn’t help but smile at the form. Filling her work address and a phone number both which were most likely false give the conspicuous number of 7’s in the number ? She’s smarter than most civilians, he’d give her that. The penthouse looked almost unhampered with. His jacket was neatly folded on the dining table with a note reading “Thank you so much for saving me. Regards.” The tone of the note was clear ‘I appreciate you saving me but I hope we never meet again.’ Jason pocketed the note and left the penthouse. Fates had been kind enough to reunite him with his angel and he’d be damned if he let her get away .

“Yoohoo Y/N to earth. Anybody home ?”Y/N’s coworker snapped her fingers in front her face, snapping her out of her reverie. “Sorry about that Steph.” Y/N apologised with an awkward laugh. Stephanie Brown, albeit several years younger, was one of Y/N’s closest friends. She was a bubbly and cheerful soul anyone could tell that by the first impression she projected.

Since the night almost a week ago with the mysterious vigilante, Y/N often found her thoughts plagued by him. Curiosity of where he would be or what he would be doing right now. Her eyes often looked for any news of him while watching the news. I really have to stop thinking about him, even though they lived in the same city, the odds of them running into each other were minute.

The door opened and the bell on top of it clanged, announcing the arrival of a customer. “Mornin’ ladies.” The customer greeted. Y/N turned her attention at the newcomer at the counter. “Good morning detective !” she greeted the customer with a bright smile.

Dick Grayson served as a police officer under the GCPD and was one of the cafe’s frequents. From experiences of her own childhood, Y/N consider the police nothing but corrupt individuals on payroll of powerful people who bullied those weaker than them. But detective Grayson was one of the good and honest ones. He played a massive role in restoring Y/N’s faith that there were those in the police force who could be relied upon and ones that fought for a better Gotham.

"I'll go with the..." he glanced at the menu, a ritual he often performed. "the regular?" Y/N finished his sentence. He responded with a smile, revealing his dimples. "I never understand why you bother with the menu when you always order the same thing," she remarked. He shrugged nonchalantly, as if saying 'who knows.' A smile crept onto her face as she made his order.

“So how’s everything with the family ?” Y/N asked, making small talk. Beyond his consistent ordering and punctual 9:00 AM café visits, he frequently shared his sibling issues. "Oh, where do I begin? My brother is acting up, yet again. He pulled some crap about a week ago. He broke one of Dad’s rules, even though he said he did it to help someone but Dad was just not having it."

“ Which one ? The cool rebellious one or the little gremlin one ?” Y/N laughed sympathetically. She didn’t feel the need to probe and ask much but she always lent an ear to a friend so naturally she knew them by characteristics and not by name. From what she knew, Dick Grayson had three younger brothers - the broody rebellious one, the caffein addict smartass and the 4 foot gremlin edgelord from hell.

“The rebellious one.” he sighed wearily. Y/N placed his order on the counter, including a small pack of cookies. “On the house. You could use some sugar anyway. They’re free testers before we put them on the menu.” Dick accepted the coffee and cookie packet, flashing a bright smile. “Thank you so much. You’re an angel.” An odd feeling resonated within her when Dick called her that. That’s what Red Hood called her. Somehow the way the word rolled off his tongue seemed so different compared to when anyone else said it.

“Hey Dick do you mind if I ask you something ?” Dick nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “What do you know about the Red Hood ?”

Dick choked on his drink and burst into a fit of coughs. It took him a while to compose himself. “He’s alright. I mean he does help the GCPD I guess but he’s too unpredictable and we don’t exactly approve of his methods. He doesn’t hurt innocents but he’s bad news. Why do you ask ?”

“No reason.”Y/N brushed off the inquiry, and although Dick seemed skeptical, he left after leaving a tip. There. Is your curiosity satiated ? Even Dick said he’s bad news now can we stop thinking about him ? Her inner conscience reprimanded her.

Y/N's weary steps echoed in the quiet street as she walked home from work at night. The flickering light from the street lights streetlights casted long almost sentient looking shadows. Her thoughts — a mix of the day's challenges, the longing for the comfort of home blurred into oblivion when a strange chill crept up her spine with a sense of foreboding. Cautious of her surroundings, Y/N constantly kept watch around herself. Just a few yards before her apartment building, she heard their neighbourhood strays agitatedly hiss to something near the dumpster. Not wanting to get involved in whatever trouble Gotham had brought to her feet, she fastened her pace. Suddenly, a flash of vibrant red —the same shade she had been secretly craving to see in the past week, caught her eye.

“Red Hood ?” Y/N stepped into the shadows cautiously as if ready to flee at the first signs of trouble.

“Angel ?” He asked gruffly. Y/N walked closer and found him against the wall, clutching his side. His wound wasn’t a death sentence but needed to be tended to quickly. Her eyes widened in horror when she noticed the crimson coating his fingers,“You’re hurt !”

“ ‘Tis but a scratch m’lady.” He let out a pained laugh seeming to ease her nerves. “We need to get that treated.” Y/N urged. She knew that vigilantes couldn’t just walked into hospitals to get patched up because of the whole secret identity thing. And she also knew that taking it upon herself to treat him would go against every plan of self preservation she had. But she owed him his life. I’ll pay off my debt and we’ll never meet again. Y/N mentally decided and looked at him with newfound determination in her eyes. “My apartment is just upstairs. I have a first aid kit. Come with me.”

Red Hood gazed at her, momentarily lost in thought, then lifted his other hand to gently stroke her cheek. Y/N flinched at his touch, making him withdraw his hand. “Sorry I thought I was hallucinating you because from the blood loss. ” He admitted meekly. Y/N sighed and placed his hand over her shoulder. “Can you stand?” The masked vigilante nodded, rising slowly with a grunt.

Swallowing her rising concern, she brought him to her house and beckoned him towards her couch. Red Hood’s every step betrayed a hint of discomfort, his grimace almost visible even behind that signature mask. The second he dropped on her couch, she disappeared. He caught flashes of her running around the house like a busy bee at work. In seconds, she produced a first-aid kit and knelt next to him. “Lift your shirt.” She maintained her clinical tone, but the concern was evident with her eyes trained on the wound.

“Angel you know if you wanted to –” Jason started with a cheeky tone but was cut off by a stern glare, “Ahem yes ma’am”

Y/N breath hitched every so slightly when she saw the injury. It didn’t look like a bullet wound, the malformed spindle shape resembled a stab wound. “I’m sorry I don’t have any anaesthetic.” She didn’t look up from the wound as her cotton swab glided over the grevions injury. Shifting her elbow to his other hand on his thigh, Red Hood tilted his head seemingly questioning her,“ You can hold my arm and squeeze it if it hurts. I’ve heard that helps.”

“Appreciate the gesture angel but I’m pretty sure I’d snap your arm in half if I did.” His tone was both dismissive and endearing. Y/N didn’t insist, given his strength what he said was probably true. Vigilantes were exceptionally trained, surpassing conventional human limits. Unlike the caped metahuman from Metropolis, the bat vigilantes were more cryptid in nature. None would be where they came from and where they went. Invulnerable and insurmountable. Despite him being in a position that would render others vulnerable, he appeared unfazed, akin to a wounded yet formidable beast. There was a natural aura of dominance and power about him. They don’t call him the Prince of Gotham for no reason that’s for sure.

“You’re good at this. Like one of the best I’ve seen.” He spoke up, seemingly trying to come off as capable of being civil. “Well three years of med school. Some stitching is the least I can do.” She explained. Red Hood visible froze for a good second and inquired,“ You’re a doctor ?”

Y/N scoffed,“ Look around. Do I look like one ?” Red Hood looked around her apartment. Although well maintained, an ode to her efforts, the apartment was old and almost pitiful . Most of the furniture looked second hand and cheap. The curtain rods were rusted and the paint was peeling off from the walls with damp spots on the ceilings.

“You dropped out ?” He guessed. “Yeah. Couldn’t afford it.” She chuckled bitterly.

“Didn’t they offer scholarships or something ?” Jason was aware of Wayne Enterprises’ scholarship programs for talented students. When Bruce took him in, he assured Jason that if Y/N met the criteria, she would be enrolled in the program. Y/N’s intellect had always impressed Jason since childhood, he remembered that she would often sneak into libraries and memorise books worth of stories to recite them to Jason to help him sleep. There was just no way she wouldn’t be accepted into the program.

“They did but that didn’t pay bills. I needed to find a job to pay for my mom’s hospital bills.” She kept her response short, clearly not wanting to delve deep into the topic. “Work for me.” The statement was like a whiplash for Y/N. Work for him ? There weren’t many things Y/N had to take a double take for but this proposition was entirely unexpected. It caught her off guard, she stared at him incredulously with widened eyes. Red Hood was know for operating in the gray areas between legality and criminality and wasn’t exactly your quintessential example of a righteous lawful hero.

“Not in the way you’re imagining.” He hooked his free hand under her chin, gently closing her agape mouth. His tone was soft and reassuring,“ I’ve been meaning to find a backstreet surgeon to stitch me up. Comes in handy for a guy like me. I’m sure you understand angel.”

“B-but why me ?”Y/N stuttered, avoiding eye contact as her nerves threatened to overwhelm her. She could feel a chill of nervousness and panic creep up her spine. What if he got angry if she refused ? Jason noticed the change in the air around her and the stiffening of her muscles in panic that she was clearly trying to hide from him.

“Because you’re convenient. Your place is easy to get in and out of undetected, you’re talented and most of all —“ He gently lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Y/N let out a shuddered breath as Red Hood stroked her cheek with the back of his gloved hand. “— you fear me enough to not go around squeaking to the wrong people about me. No ?” Jason couldn’t help but relish in the reaction he elicited to the feeling of the leather gliding against her cheek in a silken featherlight touch. How adorable.

Y/N swallowed nervously before nodding slowly. A beat of silence passed and she let out a small sigh, recollecting herself and weighing her options. “How much are we talking ?” She asked him in a low voice. Jason could hardly contain his excitement, grinning wildly under his mask. A sense of pride washed over him as her first question after his offer focused on the financial aspect.

“Let’s see how about 2 grand a month ? Too less ? 3 grand ? 3.5 ? That enough ?”he suggested eagerly. Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief, almost bulging from their sockets. Without waiting for her response, he added, “Plus, there’ll be extra incentives when I’m feeling generous.”

“All that for some stitching ? There has to be a catch.” She reasoned. It seemed implausible that he would offer such a substantial sum for such a minor task. Jason chuckled," You’re smart. I like that in a woman. And to answer your question, it’s not just stitching. It’s about your discretion and loyalty. It’s a complete package. Plus that sort of money is pretty much pocket change to me.”

“And if I were to betray your trust ?” Y/N asked in a hypothetical sense, of course she had more sense than to betray someone of his stature and power. “Do you really want me to answer that ?” He countered sounding equal parts smug and menacing. Y/N shook her head in negation and continued stitching his wound. The process of stitching became a meditative rhythm - the needle piercing the skin, the pull of the thread, the knotting, and the slight twitch of Red Hood’s muscles with each stitch.

“I’ll take it.” She muttered. Jason was grateful for his mask and injury otherwise, he might have been unable to hide his urge to jump up and punch air in celebration. Agreeing to his proposition marked just the beginning of his grand plan for making Y/N his and for now, everything unfolded according to his wishes and he couldn’t be happier.

Y/N wrapped gauze around the wound and secured it with a metal clip. “Normally I’d suggest a few days’ rest but I have a feeling there’s no point in saying.” Red Hood commented with a shrug as he inspected the injury. Y/N rose and fetched him a glass of water from the kitchen, setting it on the table. “If you’re trying to get me to remove my helmet, it won’t work.” he remarked. As much as his distrust stung, Y/N rationalised that it was typical for someone like him.

She retrieved a scarf from the coat rack, folded it and tied it around her eyes before taking a seat on the edge of the couch, keeping a respectable distance from the masked vigilante. "What's with the blindfold angel ?" Red Hood asked, his tone tinged with amusement.

"Isn't trust earned through actions?" she responded. Y/N heard the thud of his helmet being placed on the table. Jason seemed genuinely impressed by her gesture. His gaze lingered on her figure as she remained motionless, noting how much she had changed since his childhood memory. Yet her kindness to those in need while still keeping herself guarded from those who would abuse it still remained unchanged. Jason’s hand twitched with the impulse to touch her. To hold her. He wondered how her face would look in his palms with her bare body melded against his own.

“ ‘Suppose it is.” Jason chuckled as he downed the glass of water and put his helmet back on. “I’m finished. You can remove that blindfold now, although it does look adorable on you.” He noticed her chest rise with a sudden hitch, and her cheeks flush red. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed, knowing the other implications blindfolds carried. As she removed the scarf and looked around, Red Hood had vanished without a trace. Her window was open and it was as if disappeared into the wind just as he came. She got why the bat vigilantes were often likened to cryptid beings and phantoms. Y/N was left to ponder over the events that had unfolded. Under the glass of water she offered him three hundred dollar bills were tucked. “I suppose I’m now working for the Prince of Gotham now.” Y/N mused to herself, realizing her attempt to avoid getting involved had failed miserably.

Jason's parents engaged in another round of screaming matches, this time he decided he’d had enough and thought of running away. Despite previous fleeting thoughts of escape, each time night fell — he faced the harsh reality of lacking sustenance and shelter. Convinced that the streets offered a marginally preferable refuge to the shithole he was force to call home, he wandered aimlessly till he found himself at the dumpster of a bakery. He knew shops like those threw away left overs even though they could’ve given them out — Jason saw it as a glaring manifestation of selfishness of adults.

He hid behind the dumpster and waited for someone to come and throw away the leftovers. After waiting for almost half an hour, the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Glancing cautiously from his hiding spot, Jason spotted a young waitress walking out. She was likely just a few years older than himself, a middle school or a high school student maybe, he thought to himself. As she approached to dispose of the food, she paused midway. No way did she see him ? Jason shrank back against a cardboard box, hoping she wouldn’t notice him.

“Hey kid you can come out. I already saw you.” the waitress said softly. Jason slowly crawled out and approached her. He eyed the tray of leftovers in her hand, wondering if he could snatch them and escape quickly enough ? The waitress seemed to notice this and raised the tray above his reach. “Against bakery policies kid. Where are your parents ?” She asked. Of course she wouldn't be generous enough to offer him any. In his mind, all adults were rotten to the core and selfish —why would she be any different ?

Jason scoffed,“ Does it matter ?” His statement was met with a sigh from the waitress, her expression conveying annoyance, a scene all too familiar to him. Bracing himself he said,“ Just do it already. I’ve had it from guys thrice your size.” Jason was well acquainted with the drill with diner employees — catch a few shoves and slaps, pretend to go away and wait for them to leave and then come back pick up the food.

He shut his eyes and waited for her to slap and swear at him to drive him away like everyone else. Yet moments passed but the expected blow never came. Instead, Jason felt a gentle pat on his head and looked up to see her smiling empathetically, though her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. Wondering why she seemed so melancholic, he accepted the loaf of bread she offered and wolfed it down. “Won’t you get in trouble for this ?” He asked. With a forced laugh she admitted,“ I probably will but I can’t let a kid hungry now can I ?”

“I won’t tell anyone.” The young boy promised earnestly and she returned his smile. His gaze fell upon her nametag—Y/N L/N. Maybe not all adults are bad.

It had been barely four days since she last saw him that she heard from him again. In the dead of night, her doorbell rang. She approached the door cautiously and grabbed a baseball bat from the umbrella rack as a just in case. She didn’t hear any movement on the other side of the door so she cautiously opened the door, peering out. To her surprise, she found only a small, shoddily wrapped parcel resting on the floor with her name written in red.

There was no one except a small poorly wrapped parcel on floor with her name on it. Retrieving it, she carried it inside. Within the parcel lay a modest yet exquisite golden necklace accompanied by a handwritten instruction manual. Observing it she realised it was one of those necklaces that acted as an SOS signal. The parcel also contained a big folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, she discovered a map of Gotham City with specific locations ominously marked in red and the stark warning “DO NOT GO” emblazoned in bold letters. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtful gesture, maybe this is not all that bad.

Over the following days, Red Hood would appear unannounced giving Y/N enough jumpscares for lifetime, when she would walk into her living room and find him bleeding out on her couch. He wasn’t much of a talker which wasn’t a surprise.

His injuries presented a variety of shapes and sizes each time he visited, but recently, his injuries bore uncanny resemblance the markings of knife wounds. Some were superficial, while others cut deeper. However, considering the depth, placement, and angles, Y/N questioned whether they were the result of his typical fights. "Are you testing my loyalty? Seeing if I'll betray you?" Y/N clenched her teeth with silvers of anger and frustration glinting in her eyes. Red Hood appeared slightly taken aback but remained silent in response to her outburst. "Do you really think I wouldn't notice ? Either that certain type of knife has become Gotham’s thugs number one choice or you're doing this to yourself. Why ?" She pressed further.

“ I knew I shouldn’t have made it so obvious.”Jason wasn’t accustomed to others fussing over his safety. Typically he received, at most a pat on the back from those who worked alongside him, knowing he had endured much worse and could handle it. Her anger and frustration hinted at concern, echoing the tone when he would go and pick fights with boys twice his size.

“What’s that supposed to mean ?”

Red Hood let out a sigh and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Listen, I enjoy spending time with you and I wouldn’t bother coming unless I needed medical attention. So you know —"

“— So you cut yourself ? To hang out with me ? What’s wrong with you ? What if you actually got into a fight with those injuries ? What if you got hurt for real ? You could really get hurt. How could you do that to yourself ? ”

Jason lowered his head in remorse, realizing he hadn't fully considered his actions. Despite understanding her perspective and acknowledging the wrong in purposefully hurting himself for her attention, he couldn't deny a secret sense of satisfaction. "I’m so sorry," he muttered his apology, genuinely meaning every word. Y/N released an exasperated sigh and took a moment to compose herself before speaking again. "Next time, just ask. It's not that complicated."

Jason's head lifted with hopeful curiosity, resembling a puppy eager for a treat. " I can do that ?" he asked tentatively, unsure if her words were genuine. Jason blinks, and then smiles. Her words cause something to stir within him, a sensation of warmth and affection he hasn't felt in a while. Y/N nodded and got up to dispose of the bloody cotton swabs in the kitchen. Jason’s eyes followed her eyes, watching closely and to see if she was still mad at him. Y/N was a pretty forgiving person but in all honesty, he did mess up pretty bad. She returned and settled back down with a sigh, causing a slight nervous flutter in Jason. “So what do vigilantes when they’re not fighting bad guys ?” Y/N initiated as an icebreaker, much to Jason’s relief. It’s not like he could say ‘hey I’m in love with you please hang out with me with marriage in mind’. Wait marriage ? Where did that come from ? Images of Y/N in a white gown walking down an isle flashed through his mind. Y/N Todd. That had a nice ring to it, Jason mused silently. He had heard that Bali was a popular honeymoon destination but Y/N once told him that she always wanted to see the stargazing so the Atacama desert isn’t a bad destination either.

“Um earth to Red. You still here ?” Y/N waved her hand in front of Jason who seemed to have spaced out.

“Red ?”Jason asked sounding positively amused by the unexpected nickname. She shrugged and replied,“ Calling you Red Hood seemed too long, so Red it is. Not very creative, I know.”

Jason chuckled,“ I’ll allow it. And to answer your question, vigilantes don't have much time for leisure. When we're not fighting, we’re either training or passed the fuck out from exhaustion.” Y/N felt tired just hearing that, understanding the reasoning behind it, but the question remained: he wasn’t wasting time by being here, was he ?

“Seems like there’s no room for hobbies?” Y/N quipped, eliciting another soft laugh from Jason as he visibly relaxed. "I suppose so but pros can squeeze in time for special things here and there." he replied, his voice still quiet but now tinged with a smile. His body language seemed brighter and happier, and for the first time since she saw him actually looking relaxed.

Y/N reached for the TV remote, flipping through channels before tossing it onto his lap and standing up. “I’m going to fix myself something. Do you want anything?” she asked politely. Jason shook his head, declining, “I’m good.” Y/N walked to the kitchen and started making herself popcorn. What sort of movies and tv shows would vigilantes enjoy ? She guessed they might lean towards crime-related or action-packed content, but then remembered her friends’ complaints about the inaccuracy of such portrayals.

“Seriously Janet ?! There’s no way you’re picking that dress. Just cuz it would look good on Jessica doesn’t mean it would suit you ! I can hear the wails of the colour theory all the way from here.” Jason shook his head, sounding genuinely disappointed. He probably didn’t even notice Y/N shuffling closer to the television, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. So I guess that answers my question.

“That’s an interesting choice.”

Jason rolled his eyes and diverted his attention back to the television again. “What ? Can’t a man enjoy some good entertainment ?” He retorted. Y/N laughed lightly dismissing his remark,” No no it’s not that. Personally I’m more of a k-drama and anime girlie but I hold nothing against reality tv.” He nodded in acknowledgment of her preferences and resumed watching. Sitting beside him, Y/N observed as he commented on almost everything the people on TV said, finding herself amused by how much more entertaining his live commentary was compared to the actual show.

Minutes rolled by and after almost a couple hours, Y/N got up to go use the washroom and when she returned he had vanished once again, as was his habit. A small note lay where he had sat on her couch earlier. She picked it up and read, “Had a great time. Thanks for today - R” Y/N chuckled and shook her head, Damn these bats and their theatrics.

Jason would show up every three four days, most of the time unharmed thankfully. The two would do a variety of things like watching movies and tv shows together, playing board games and video games and just talking in general. At first it was just discussing their common interests but eventually he would sporadically divulged minor, unimportant details about himself. Some things she was able to piece together were that one, the bat vigilantes was a dysfunctional family with Batman as their patriarch. Second, the Red Hood worked alongside Starfire and Arsenal as his teammates. And third, that he had to be the biggest classic literature nerd she had come across.

“What do you mean your best friend tried to set you on fire while you were taking a shower ?! Didn’t you like lock the door or something ?”

“Locked doors don’t really do much to people like us angel.”

“So who’s your favourite bat sibling ?” Jason fell silent at her question, contemplating the answer. “Well that’s a tough question. I have my set of challenges and grudges with all of them. We’ve tried to kill each other atleast once. More so with my brothers than the girls. I’d say I get along pretty well with spoiler and batgirl. And if you ask about my brothers, I’d say Nightwing. He’s the funny nice one, Red Robin’s the smart, loyal one and Robin is the little obnoxious one.”

Y/N chuckled,“ Guess the article checks out.”

“What article ?” Jason asked curiously. Most of his intel came from law enforcement agencies databases, informants, surveillance technology, his fellow vigilantes and his own investigative work so he didn’t really feel the need to keep up with the cheesy articles in Gazette.

“The cinnamon roll tier list !” Y/N’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

“The what now ?”

“So there’s this popular meme going online,”she started to explain,“ so there are four categories - first, looks like a cinnamon roll, is a cinnamon roll. In that category are the signal, the spoiler and nightwing. Second, looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you. That one is for Red Robin and the Robin. Third, looks like could kill you but is a cinnamon roll, that one is for Batgirl and the last is -” she paused because she knew the next tier on the list might potentially sting him.

“Looks like could kill you and would kill you ? Let me guess that’s one for me ?” Jason chuckled humorlessly, fully aware of the kind of reputation that preceded him. He wondered if she held the same perception of him. Y/N remained silent, neither confirming nor denying his statement.

"You know, you don't need to constantly worry about offending me. Believe me, I've heard far worse than anything your pretty mouth could say to me." Y/N couldn't help but feel upset, while his words were true, there was more to it than that. She wanted to express that she wasn't entirely afraid of him, but that wasn't entirely true either.

“Anyways – ”She interjected, clapping her hands once to shift the flow of the conversation,“ I got a new video game from a friend. Let me go get it. DO NOT DISAPPEAR. I’m serious it’s creepy.” Jason responded with her a cheeky salute,“ Yes ma’am.” Y/N disappeared into the bedroom briefly and returned with the DVD. When she came back she noticed Jason had reclined on the couch, appearing to have dozed off.

“Red ?” she asked softly, approaching him. She tried to get his attention again, but he remained unresponsive. He must’ve fallen asleep, she figured remembering what he said about his schedule. Retrieving a blanket from the side of the couch, she gently covered him. She sat there for a while, observing him as he slept. Watching him like this felt natural and familiar. Leaning back on the couch herself, she tried to unwind in the peaceful silence. Y/N couldn't help but admire him and all that he had achieved. Finding a friend in such an extraordinary circumstance was something she had never anticipated.

After a while, a somewhat wicked notion crept into her mind. She tried to shush the voice. Hanging out with Stephanie was sure working its magic, she thought to herself. It was a harmless little prank really, surely he wouldn’t mind. Against all logic and rationale, she decided entertained the idea. Tiptoeing to her closet, she retrieved the item from her closet and cautiously returned, double-checking if he was asleep. Here goes nothing.

[thebibliosphere]

Tim immediately jumping to murder is why I think Tim should be in the labrynth. Comic!Tim is always one bad day away from becoming a supervillain, but the bad day is key

Listen, the Labyrinth level is harrowing for all of them (watching Dick's parents plummet to the ground over and over because I kept fucking up the trap was excruciating) but Tim, oh god, Tim.

He's so fucking young in this game.

He's not a child characterized as an adult. He's a super smart sixteen-year-old kid trying to act like an adult and full of grief and rage, and while Dick might be struggling with living up to being Batman, Tim's head is just a constant mantra of "not good enough, not good enough, not good enough. Bruce only took you on because he needed a replacement for Jason. And look at you, you couldn't even do that right. Batman is dead"

And because he's in the Labyrinth, it's not his own voice he's hearing.

It's Bruce.

It's Bruce telling him he's not good enough over and over. That he's a disappointment to the mantle of Robin. That Bruce should have never trained him. That it's Tim's fault Bruce is dead because Robin failed to protect Batman.

And then he finds out it's the Court of Owls messing with his head. That they've engineered this whole thing using some mega strain of fear gas while they're making him run through an obstacle course designed to trigger all these worst fears. Making him hallucinate Bruce dying in front of him. That he's being manipulated into reliving his worst fears over and over, and not even dying makes it end because they won't let him die. He just keeps waking up on the slab like some fucked up version of Ground Hog Day with spinning knives and the sound of your mentor telling you all the ways you're not good enough.

Frankly, the Cout of Owls is lucky Tim climbed out of that hole and immediately called Alfred (and oh GOD, the way he haltingly tells Alfred in the smallest voice that he wants to come home because he's a 'little beaten up' aaaah killing, stabbing, biting) because my first instinct on getting him out there was to call down an orbital strike from the Watchtower.

He's hooked into the system.

He could do it.

Say 'hoo' mother fuckers. Say 'hoo' one more time.

[humanoidluv]

i just know birdflash had to be confusing as fuck for people who were out of the loop when dick took on the batman mantle (& wally already having the flash mantle, of course.)

especially gothamites. oh god. batman spotted flirting with the flash?? what is going on?? the flash making jokes and teasing the new robin, batman and the flash acting as if the new robin is their beloved son? what?

#batflash becomes a trending tag in gotham (& central city since dick definitely visits), and gotham is hooked onto whoever the big bad bat is supposedly dating, like usual. what do you mean he's dating the flash? i thought we all knew he was having hookups with two-face!

it is absolute chaos.

[the-californicationist]

he trims his beard

Pirate!Price/Reader

God, I want to write thirty damn chapters about Pirate!Price so badly. Someone tell me not to, please? Lol. Otherwise, y'all might be getting thirty chapters of Pirate!Price...

MDNI/18+ TW: virginity reference

Summary:

Captain John Price is king of the Seven Seas, and after he saves your life, you owe him a debt. His fee? To take you as his wife.

The Mediterranean Sea, 1708

“I just can’t…ARGH!” Price slammed his hand down on the porcelain basin as he tried to shave his chin, unable to use his right hand after the accident. 

You pitied him, but you were still terribly afraid of him. When he rescued you, you thought he had been Death riding in on his ghostly white ship. But, now that he had been with you going on a fortnight, you realized the hardened, gruff exterior was but a hard shell encasing the soft, warm center of Captain Price, leader of the Queen’s special unit of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. 

You’d been marooned on Cassadaga Island for two days, stripped of your jewelry and purse, beaten within an inch of your life, and left for dead. Your would-be husband had planned the whole attack, hoping to cash in on the dowry money. The joke was on him. Your father had a gambling problem and had not two coins to rub together. The musket he kept above the mantle didn’t even have any gunpowder in it, you were so destitute. As soon as your fiancé found out about your lack of adequate funding, he tossed you overboard on his father’s ship. When Captain Price found you there, you were barely hanging on. 

The captain had nursed you back to health, promising to chase down the vagabond and kill him for his dishonor. He’d been true to his word, slaughtering the lot of them, but during his vengeful assault, he’d been shot through the hand with a musket. You’d cleaned the wound, and he had yelled at you for the pain. Now, you were cowering in the corner of your shared room, back to being a prisoner. 

He eyed you from his shining mirror above the basin, 

“C’mere, girl.”

You edged closer. It wasn’t quick enough for him, so he crossed the room, his black leather boots banging on the ash wood of his quarters.

“I said come here,” he growled, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you over to the wash bowl, razor in his uninjured hand. 

He let go of you, straightened himself, and sighed, fixing his harshness into a more genteel tone,

“My apologies,” the words came out of his mouth oily and practiced, not at all his natural verbiage, “Would you be so kind as to trim my beard? With my injury, and my left hand being more useless than a fuckin’ hook, I am at your mercy.”

He handed you the razor and you took it from him, 

“Yes, sir - I mean, Captain. Yes, Captain.”

You were stuttering, full of abject fear at his possible retaliation. 

As you approached his face with the razor, your hand was trembling and he noticed it. Something in him softened, his icy blue eyes melted just enough for him to hold you around your waist and gaze down at your face,

“It’s okay, pretty girl. My bark and my bite are both nasty, but I won’t harm you.”

His warm body was so close to yours, and with him leaning over you, breathing into your space, you could smell the tobacco scent that lingered in his clothes and beard. His long, braided hair was adorned with gold coins, bent and twisted into it to make little beads, and he had been caramelized by the sun. At the top of his sternum, you could see thick tufts of curly hair poking from his shirt. You tried not to stare. 

“Captain,” you asked as sweetly as you could, “Can you sit, sir, so that I may reach your cheek?”

He smiled, 

“Alright, love.”

He sat on his down mattress. The bed creaked at the addition of his familiar weight. 

At this more convenient angle, you were able to reach his face and neck, so you began your task. You applied the foam in thin layers, working gently as you went, mindful that the captain kept his blades sharp enough to cut steel twine. What you hadn’t realized was that, by requesting that he sit, he was in full, direct eye sight of your heavy breasts. They were corseted up, as was the fashion, but without your normal over-dress to cover you, your nipples ghosted through the thin chemise, hinting at little pebbles beneath the surface. He had not stopped staring at them since you began to shave him. 

You looked down while you were cleaning the blade, trying to discreetly glimpse at his growing passion, curious and fearful all at the same time. His breeches could barely contain him, and his thick phallus pressed into the join of his pants. He caught you staring, and he laughed at your rosy complexion, rolling his eyes,

“Ha! Embarrassed at your thirst, pretty girl? Surely those vagabonds did not leave you a virgin during your ordeal.” 

“They did, sir,” you admitted, returning to your work, sad at having been discovered sinning with your abject perversion. 

He made a small noise, unable to talk while you were shaving his prominent chin, careful around the curve of the bone. He liked to keep the sides long, trimming them with shears, but he always shaved his chin. You followed the razor’s line down his neck, careful not to knick his protruding Adam’s Apple. 

“Is that so?” The captain purred. 

“Yes, sir. At my fiance’s order.”

“Ah, I see.”

He was silent again, his eyes growing hungrier at the sight of you. His hands returned to your hips as the waves tossed the large vessel on the high seas. You stilled, feeling your belly flutter, wondering if it was seasickness or excitement from his newly focused touch.

“You alright, love? Bit choppy tonight. Storm’s brewin’.”

“Oh,” you nodded, finishing with his neck, “There. All finished, Captain.”

He moaned, holding your hips tighter, situating you between his open knees,

“Shame, that. I was enjoying your skillful hand, pretty girl.”

You blushed, setting the razor cleaned back in its case,

“Thank you, Captain Price. And thank you again for your rescue. I would be dead if not for your mercy. I am in your debt.”

“Aye,” the Captain eyed you slyly, “a steep debt at that. Your dowry should solve that for us. Then, you’ll be on your way. When we land in Málaga, your father can pay me.”

“Sir,” you gasped, “I don’t have one. My father took it to the game house and lost it on his cards.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you looked down at him in shame, hoping his mercy was deeper than his greed. 

“Hmm, I see. Then, perhaps you would consider a captain as your betrothed?”

You looked up at him in shock, and he was amused by your fear. He used one hand to hold you by the hip, and his other, uninjured hand delicately pulled at the silk ribbon of your bodice, aiming to free you from your painful restraints. 

“Y-y-yes…sir,” you could feel the heat on your cheeks, “My family would be most pleased with such a match.”

“Bugger your family, girl. They left you for dead. If you’re mine, you’ll be only mine. Once I have a bounty in my grasp, there’s not a man on God’s green earth who could take it from me. Does that scare you, girl? Do you want to run off home, turn to the cloth, become a nun instead?”

“No,” you shook your head, “No, sir. I owe you my life, and if it is my hand that you wish, I must oblige you.”

“I wish not your hand, love…” His tone was darkly suggestive, “Well, maybe at first.” He laughed warmly. 

It was a joke that you had missed, but you knew it was your innocence that kept you from divining its meaning. In your core, your body yearned for him. Seeing him command his men, the fiercest swords on the Seven Seas, watching him take down pirates and vagabonds like it made his heart beat in his breast, it was mystifying. His huge muscles and broad bones made his tall figure all the more imposing, and every port you landed in, women swooned over him while the men cowered in fear. Yes, you’d enjoy him as a husband. No one would ever dare lay a hand on you again. 

“What are your terms, Captain, should I accept your proposal?”

He ran a finger into the hole he had created in your leather bodice, letting you feel his warm touch through the thin fabric of your chemise. It electrified you.

“You’ll be mine, and only mine. I’ll be yours, and only yours. When I fill you with my seed, you’ll carry my children, and you’ll love them in earnest. You’ll sail with me, and learn the trade. There’s no comfortable manor house awaiting you, girl. What say you?”

“I agree to your terms, sir. But, I have one of my own.”

“Name it.”

“You’ll not lay a hand to me or our children, no matter the height of your rage.”

“Never. You have my word.”

Looking into his eyes, softened and vulnerable now, he meant it. You felt relief for the first time in weeks. Safe, protected, cared for, and welcomed into his adventures. It was everything you’d dreamed of. All of your childhood friends had dreams of servants and painting rooms and buying linens, while you had wanted to see the world. Here he was, offering it to you. 

“I accept.”

“As do I, love. Now,” he finished removing your corset and bodice top, letting it fall to the floor, “as your husband, I’ll have what I’m owed.”

“Yes, Captain. But, please,” you felt a tear roll away from your wet lashes, “be gentle with me.”

“I promised no such thing,” he said, lowering his mouth to your nipple, sucking it and wetting the silk of your chemise, using his hand to pull down the fabric on your other breast, exposing it to the sea air. 

You gasped, feeling his hot mouth explore your skin, your nipples tightening in the heat of his attentions. He was using his tongue to flick back and forth across the tip of your breast, not caring that you were trembling at every swipe of his tongue or thumb. You moaned, involuntarily, as you felt the sparkle of pleasure rush into your belly, making you wet under your skirts. While you had explored yourself plenty of times to discover the hidden secrets of your body, to have a man - especially such an aggressor like Captain Price - do it, it was so much more exciting. His forbidden fruit made you clench your legs together, upset and tingling within your core. 

“Mmm,” he praised you, “Like that, love?”

“Yes, Captain,” you whispered softly, placing your hands on the back of his neck, rubbing the firm musculature you discovered there. 

“Good girl,” he told you, pinching your nipple cruelly to make you moan again. 

He kissed you then, full and with his long, ravenous tongue, forcing it into your mouth to feel your tongue and throat, the silky skin of your cheek. As he kissed you, he was busy rucking up your skirts, searching for your dripping heat. He found it, and he stilled. Barely moving, he stopped kissing you and looked up into your eyes with his stark blue ones, a look of pure delight on his face. 

“Oh, my stars. There it is. You’ve been hiding it from me. So willing? Tell me the truth. Have you been hungering for me as I have been for you?”

It would not be proper to confess such a thing, even to a man who would be your husband. You shook your head in denial, pressing your lips together to keep from telling the truth. 

“Say it! Tell your naughty thoughts to me, love. This is not the cunt of a frightened girl.”

You blushed, red as a rose, unable to meet his gaze. 

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he moved his finger inside of you then, gently sinking into his drooling sheath, ready to send home his sword to it.

“Y-yes,” your voice was barely audible.

“Yes? What have you been thinking of?” He returned to your nipple, pressing his finger deeper into you, massaging your walls as he explored.

“You…when you fight pirates, sir. You look…”

He chuckled, biting your firm nipple softly, teasing you,

“You like seeing me murdering those devils, do you? In all my days, I never thought I’d find a lass who had a taste for war.”

“Not the war, sir. Just the warrior. You seem to be in command of the chaos, and my body…well, I guess…I am unsure how to describe it.”

He pulled you down to the bed and tossed you on your back, rutting against you with his length, letting his hardness press into your core through his breeches. 

“You like seeing me in charge, hm? Your captain, barking his orders, tossing those traitorous rats into the drink, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” you confessed, rolling in the broiling pleasure he was building inside of you, his hand knuckle-deep inside of your core. 

“Good,” he said smugly, “Then, I have a command for you.”

You looked up at him, watching him roll your skirt up above your knees, his eyes never leaving your dripping folds. He smiled when he saw it gleam for him. 

“What do you ask of me, my love?”

“Open your legs, girl. Feed yourself to your Captain.”

[ct99r2d2]

Omega Yoinks (part 2)

Please enjoy this continued collection of every time Omega has been Yoinked by her Brothers 🚼🏈💝 (see part 1 here)

((sorry this took me foreeeeeverrrr))

heavy on the finesse bit

S1 E9 Bounty Lost

(okay this one is not really a yoink but COME ONNN 🥹😍🫠)

S1 E10 Common Ground

S1E14 War Mantle

S1E16 Kamino Lost

S2E1 Spoils of War

gif by @dreamswithghosts

S2E2 Ruins of War

S2E5 Entombed

S2E10 Retrieval

MY Personal Favorite

S2E11 Metamorphisis

Maybe the most yoinks per episode??!

| Hunter - 1 | Wrecker - 1 | Tech - 3 !! |

S2E15 The Summit

(honorable mention for this blink and you'll miss it catch by Hunter. Right as they attach, he takes his arm (the one with the attachment cable hooked to the car) OFF the car to stabilize Omega)

S2E16 Plan 99

(sorry in advance for the trauma)

I said sorry 🥲

Season 3...

doesn't have too many Omega Yoinks! (at least not that I noticed. But if you ask me... that's just good old fashioned ✨character development✨)

but we DID get this little blink and you'll miss it one from Hunter in

S3E7 Extraction

thank you for coming to part 2 of this Omega is Baby seminar!

(Until we see Omega again.... <3)

[dungeon-strugglers]

✨New item!✨ Coldhand Ring, uncommon (requires attunement)

This iron band is ringed with frost and embedded with milky blue uncut larimar. The hand upon which you wear the ring is pale and ice cold to the touch. The ring has 3 charges, and it regains all expended charges daily at dawn. You can expend 1 charge while wearing the ring to do one of the following options:

Chilling Blow. When you hit a target with an unarmed strike or a melee weapon attack, the target takes an extra 2d6 cold damage and it must make a successful DC 13 Constitution saving throw or it can’t take reactions and its speed is halved until the end of its next turn.

Ice Javelin. When you take the Attack action, if your ring-wearing hand is free, you can replace one of the attacks with a special thrown weapon attack. As part of the attack, you summon a javelin made of ice and throw it at a target that you can see within range. The ice javelin uses the damage die and weapon properties of a typical javelin. Hit or miss, the javelin then explodes. The target of your attack and each creature within 5 feet of it must succeed on a DC 13 Dexterity saving throw or take 2d6 cold damage. If the attack hit, the target has disadvantage on this saving throw.

The cloaked ranger rode into town on a reindeer, and a pall of silence fell upon the villagers. Icicles hung from its antlers and the fringe of the traveler’s mantle was stiff with frost. A young stablehand stepped forth and feebly offered to lodge the beast for the night, but the ranger’s only response was to hold out a frost-blackened fist. The stablehand instinctively responded, and a ring was dropped into his cupped hands… - 🖌🎨 Like our work? Consider supporting us on Patreon and gain access to the hi-resolution art for almost 200 magic items (wow!), printable item cards and card packs, beautiful creature art and stat blocks, and setting pdfs with narrative hooks and unique lore!🧙‍♂️ Thank you so much for your support! 💖

📜 Credit. Art and design by us: the Dungeon Strugglers. Please credit us if you repost elsewhere.

[rainydaymiscellaneous]

I hate to ask again but I had and idea. Also the last one was so cute thank you. If you can can you please write a Kaz Brekker x reader where the reader is in love with this book but no one has read is so they have no one to talk to about it so Kaz reads it and starts a conversation about it with the reader and they get really happy and start ranting about it to him and he’s just happy to sit and listen to them and make comments from time to time

Dude, send me all the requests for our boy Kazzle Dazzle your ideas are so creative!

Book Club (Kaz x reader)

He needed an opening. Just one solid reason to actually talk to you. You had been in the Dregs for years now and Kaz was still struggling to even breathe around you. He had this crush on you that he refused to admit was there. Inej saw it, even dumbass Jesper saw it.

You'd assume that Kaz was mute if it hadn't been for your presence in the Dregs. You had been there for a long time but disappeared on a mission far off for three years. The room above Kaz had been vacant and then suddenly it had life. Kaz had no idea anyone even lived above him until you knocked on his door your first night back and asked him to join you for tea.

There you sat on a nice couch with a cup of chamomile. Kaz was perplexed by who you were and why the fuck you wanted to drink glorified leaves in water.

"Why am I here?" He asked.

"You tell me." You said, sipping from your cup. Kaz furrowed his brow.

"You asked me to have tea with you." He said, watching you with those daggers for eyes.

"You didn't have to say yes." You shrugged.

"I did."

"You did not." "I did." He said. "Okay then, why did you have to accept?" You asked. He sighed, looking at you with his gloved hands gripping his cane.

"Because I needed to know who was suddenly living in the room above me." He said. You rose a brow.

"You could've asked Inej to investigate." You said. He blinked.

"You know Inej?" He asked.

"I've been in the Dregs for three years, of course I know your main lot. Inej, Jesper, Nina, Wylan and that off-putting convict Mattias." You said.

Kaz was confused. How did you know so much but he was ignorant to you? How did he not know who you were?

"I'm a sharpshooter. I use that-" you pointed to a rifle on the mantle "rifle to kill whoever you want dead." You said.

"Why do I not know you?" Kaz asked.

"I was off in Shu Han for Haskell." You said. "For what?" Kaz asked.

"You do your business, I'll do mine." You said.

He liked that response. It meant you'd keep any secret that slipped through your ears. "I will work for you when you need me. Say the word, I will be there no questions asked unless one of ours is bleeding." You said.

"Why tea?" He asked. "We easily could've done this over something less detestable."

You chuckled. "You've not had the right tea then." You said with that smile.

That fucking smile. From that moment on Kaz was hooked. He couldn't help it. It was hard to not fall in love with someone like you. You were always there when he needed you, apparently you had taken some training on stealth from Inej, leaning to be one with the dark making you even more deadly.

But for the deadly persona that the streets simply knew as "the bullet", you were a gentle person. Kaz often noticed you with stray animals, seeing that kind smile. The one that made Kaz at a loss for words. You'd often make that same smile at Kaz when you'd pass him with a gentle "hi boss."

Sure, technically Per Haskell was the "boss". You however knew damn well Kaz was the brains behind everything. You had become close with the other members of the Dregs, including Inej who called you a sister. She loved being around you. You gave good advice and that was probably why the rest of the group would flock to you.

So there you all were, your head in Jesper's lap as you read. Kaz had noticed your sudden interest in this, everytime he saw you, you had that book in hand now. Wylan looked over at you.

"Care to join the game?" He asked.

"I'm good." You said, turning the page.

"You've been reading that for two weeks now, come up for air." Inej said.

"I need to know if Alistair lives Inej, the prophecy is strongly implying he will die and I don't think Cousland can handle him dying." You muttered, reading.

"None of that made any sense." Nina said.

"It'll make sense if one of you would at least read it." You said.

"We're all too busy. Kaz keeps giving us stupid b&e's.(breaking and entering)" Jesper said.

"Not all of you are busy though. Wylan?" You said.

"Kaz has been training me for lockpicking." Wylan said.

"He take you to the financial district?" You asked, looking up.

"Once or twice." He shrugged.

"Course he did. Best place to practice." You said before going back to your book.

"Alright, who's in?" Jesper asked.

Inej noticed Kaz at the bar, occasionally looking over at you. "I'm out." She said.

Inej made her way to him and he cleared his throat, turning back to his drink. It looked like scotch but the smell... it wasn't scotch it was tea.

"Didn't you say that tea was just leaves in water that is hot?" Inej asked.

"I hadn't drank the right tea." Kaz said, looking at the glass with vacant eyes. Inej recognized the expression. Kaz was at war with himself, as usual.

He never handled his innermost feelings well, especially the ones that left him vulnerable. And what was more vulnerable than love? You were a plague to his mind, always there. When it wasn't your face that he was smiling internally at, it was your laugh. When it wasn't your laugh it was your smile and so on. He wanted so badly to talk to you like he once did over tea but he didn't think it was a good idea.

You were just so perfect in his eyes. So beautiful, so smart. If he tried to converse, he'd make an ass of himself. He needed an opening something fierce. Something to give him a reason to talk to you instead of "hey, your face is anestheticly pleasing to look at, which I do. Frequently. Without you knowing."

"You're staring at your glass mighty hard there." Inej said. Kaz looked up. "You should just talk to her." She said.

"It's not that easy." He muttered.

"I do it all the time." Inej said with an eyeroll.

"Because you are friends. You know her. I am not that lucky." He said.

"You do know her." Inej said.

"Not like that. I know her from afar. Where it's safe." He said, drinking the glass.

"Kaz, she's right there. Just talk to her." Inej said.

You got up, stretching with a yawn. "I'm heading out " You said to Inej.

"Kaz will go with you!" Inej volunteered.

If looks could kill, Inej would've been six feet under at that moment Kaz glared at her.

"Alright..?" You said confused. Kaz sighed looking at Inej and then you before standing up.

He walked out with you, noticing the dark clouds that hung in the sky. "Looks like it might rain" he said.

"Good reading weather." You said.

"You're usually reading nowadays." Kaz said.

"It's a nice escape from things when they get too intense." You shrugged.

"What is it that you're reading now?" He asked.

If you were a dog, your ears would've perked up. "It's amazing- it's about this girl who joins this legendary army and has to rebuild what was-... Sorry." You cleared your throat.

"Why are you apologizing?" He asked.

"Well apparently everyone thinks I talk too much about this book." You said.

"Who said that?"

"Well Nina." He'd kill her

"And Jesper." He'd shoot him with his own guns

"And Inej." Wait what?

"And pretty much anyone who asks me." You finished.

"Wow." Was all Kaz could muster for words.

You shrugged. "I wish they'd just listen to me and read the damn book." You said.

"Why do you think they haven't?" He asked.

"They're all busy. They have their own lives and I have mine. It's nothing personal, I know. But I just wish sometimes I could talk to someone about it and have them actually know what I'm talking about." You said walking.

Kaz then realized this was it. This was his perfect excuse to get closer. "What's the name of the book?" He asked curiously.

"Rise of the Grey Wardens. Why?" You asked.

"I figured I could read it." He shrugged.

Your eyes lit up and Kaz felt intense joy. He made you happy. He actually made you happy. He didn't mean to but he did and my god were you adorable to him when you were beaming. "Then I know where we should go!" You said walking ahead of him.

Instinctively he followed. "Where are we going?" He asked.

You looked back, a breeze blowing your hair in such a beautiful way as you turned to him. "My favorite place in Ketterdam."

He asked no more questions after that, just following you quietly through backstreets. Kaz watched you approach a side door to a building, knocking on it rhythmically. The door open, an older woman smiling at you.

"Weren't you just here a few days ago?" She asked.

"I brought a friend." You said with a smile, stepping back and motioning for Kaz to introduce himself. Kaz couldn't help but feel a little giddy of your use of 'friend'.

"I'm-"

"I know." She said. She didn't say it with disdain though, which shocked him. "You're the reason we're still open. Come on in Mister Brekker."

He didn't know what that meant but accepted the invitation, walking in. "Do you have another copy of 'Rise of the Grey Wardens'?" You asked.

"I do, why did you burn through your other copy?" She asked.

"Mister Brekker wishes to read." You said with a grin. Kaz's eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. Bookshelves lined the walls both on the first and second floor of the building. There must've been thousands of books in front of Kaz.

"Here you are mister Brekker." The woman said.

"Thank you er..."

"Miriam." She said with a nod and a kind smile. She gave off the feeling of a doting grandmother with how fond she seemed of you. "Right! Y/n dear, I made some sugar biscuits if you'd like to try them" she said. You seemed to have found your way upstairs when you responded back with a

"Be right down!"

You returned with a new book in hand and Miriam grinned as Kaz took the book. "I see you've found the sequel." She said. You had the biggest grin.

"I had no clue it was a series." You admitted.

"The second one tends to be slow but it is vital for the third." She said, handing you a cookie.

You smiled, taking it. "Thank you. How much do I owe you?" You asked.

"Nothing. It's on the house." She declared.

"Miriam, if you ever wanted to apply for sainthood, I do believe you to be eligible." You said making her laugh.

"Thank the saints you didn't know me in my youth." She teased making you laugh. Kaz couldn't explain it. Usually smalltalk annoyed him but something about this was nice to him. You and Miriam seemed to have a tight bond.

"We should go, it does look like it'll rain." You said, peaking out a window. Kaz nodded but Miriam held her hand up before handing you and Kaz paper bags.

"For the road." She told the both of you. You gave her a kind smile before walking back to the door. "One moment Mister Brekker." She halted. Kaz turned around as Miriam motioned for him to lean forward for them to whisper. "Keep her safe, will you? There's not many a good person in Ketterdam but she's one of them." She said.

Kaz with possibly the sweetest look of adoration he could muster simply said "I will, Miss Miriam." Before he followed you out. The two of you began your trek back to the Slat. "How long have you known Miriam?" Kaz asked.

"Going on ten years now. Saved her cat from a town fire, she's been grateful since." You said, opening the paperbag and pulling a cookie out. Miriam gave you both cookies. Maybe Miriam was just a village grandma.

"Has any of the others met her?" He asked.

You shook your head. "You'd be the first I've shown to the Archive." You said.

"Why me?" Kaz asked as a crack of thunder sounded off.

"Because you asked me about what I read." You said before walking into the Slat.

Kaz winded up spending a good week reading that book. You were right, it was an amazing story. When he finished, he had that same urge that you did to discuss it.

All of the crows were back in the club, this time Kaz and you both playing a round of poker. Jesper hated this. You were way too good at poker and kept winning, hand after hand. You had a nice stack of chips. Inej seeing your smirk as you leaned back in your chair.

"I win again!" You said.

"Why is this so hard?" Wylan asked.

"Because Y/n is way too good at this." Jesper groaned, smacking his head on the table. Nina sighed.

"I need a drink. A very large one." She said.

"I've got my own little army of chips." You said, stacking them.

"You could rebuild the Cousland estate with your winnings." Kaz said, you looking up slightly shocked. "Course, I could always pull a Howe and, y'know. Knock it down." Kaz added.

You looked bewildered as Inej rose a brow.

"Kay, is it just me, or did none of that make sense?" Jesper asked.

"You just made a reference." You said.

"I did." Kaz nodded.

"You finished it."

"I did."

"And!?"

"You were right. The book is fantastic, I could not put it down." Kaz said.

Inej and Jesper exchanged a look.

"Fuck poker. We need to discuss the book NOW!" You said excitedly.

"Yes! Put me out of my misery!" Jesper said.

Kaz looked at him and then you. "Let's have tea." He suggest. Nina's eyes went wide as she realized what was happening before her, her looking at Inej who had a smile on her face.

"I'm grabbing my coat! Let's go!" You said getting up. Kaz followed you as you practically bounced out the door with excitement.

Nina gaped. "How long has he been in love with her!?" She asked as the door closed.

"Oh a while now, like since she got back." Wylan shrugged.

Jesper and Inej looked at Wylan as he moved your chips.

"You knew?" Inej asked.

"It'd take a blind man not to see."

You ended up back at the Slat, sitting cross legged on your sofa. You two must've discussed the book for hours, Kaz loving every moment of it as he heard you passionately talk about the story.

You sighed with a smile. "It's funny, I didn't think you liked me." You said, looking at your empty tea cup.

Kaz rose a brow. "Why did you think that?" He asked.

"You just seemed so... I dunno. Angry that I returned." You said.

"I wasn't."

"But you seemed it."

"I didn't know who you were. I was on my guard" he said. You rose a brow.

"You're not anymore?" You asked. Kaz bared a gentle expression that made your heart almost explode inside your chest.

"I'm not. You're one of the few I trust. The only I'd trust with my entire being." He said. Kaz didn't have faith in a lot of things. But he had faith in you and it showed. He looked at you. "Do you trust me?" He asked.

You gave him a look of pure adoration. "Of course." You said. You had spent your life reading books about the greatest romances of all time. You'd get lost in those stories of how the man always loved the girl but she didn't realize it until a pivotal moment.

"Kaz... you said you trusted me." You breathed. "Please. Please let my intuition be right." You thought to yourself as Kaz gave you a questioning look. "Do you... love me?"

Your question hung in the air for what felt like the longest minute of your life. Kaz definitely seemed caught way off his guard by the question, his eyes widening the second he realized what was happening.

This entire time he has been hoping for an opening to talk to you. A moment to truly get to know you. Well he got one. And he fell in love with every bit of you. He swallowed hard.

"Forget that I asked, I am so sorr-" "I do." He said.

You blinked. "What?"

"I love you." He said. Your jaw must've hit the floor. You knew how guarded this man was. You heard that any semblance of vulnerability was practically impossible from Kaz and yet here he was. Being the most vulnerable he could be with you.

You looked at him before getting up. He thought his words might've done something bad. Maybe you didn't want his love. Maybe he had misinterpreted everything, maybe he was a fool for thinking there was-

You kneeled in front of him. "Kaz, may... Uhm... May I touch you?" You asked. With hesitation he nodded as your hand gently held his cheek. The touch of humans was deeply unsettling to Kaz. That feeling brought him back to a place he never wanted to be in ever again and yet somehow...

Somehow your gentle touch made him feel safe. If it had been anyone else he'd probably be in the process of murdering the fool who touched him. But it was you. You were like an angel on earth to him.

"When I look at you, do you know what I see?" You asked softly.

"No." He muttered.

"I see someone else who's been through hell and came out on the other side." You held his hands, Kaz looking in your eyes. "We've suffered long enough and we deserve to be happy." You said softly.

Kaz had a momentary loss of control. He kissed you, you leaning into his touch. He pulled away with wide eyes. "I am so sorry-" "shut up and kiss me Brekker."

The next day you were at the crow club reading at the bar next to Inej. Jesper yawned. "It's a boring day. Wish Kaz would give us something to do. By this point I'll take a fucking b&e." He whined.

Kaz, as if he were summoned, walked through the doors of the crow club, sitting on your other side. For once, Inej watched you put your book down as you gave a gentle smile to Kaz. "Hello" you said.

The dead give away that something had changed was the fact that Kaz smiled. He actually smiled back at you. "Hello." He said softly.

Inej and Jesper swapped shocked looks. "Y/n, do you mind helping me with this? It's a rifle mod and I wanna make sure I've got the measurements right." Wylan asked. You looked over.

"Alright." You said walking off.

Jesper and Inej looked at Kaz who now had a drink in his hand. "What the hell happened last night!?" Jesper asked.

"Nothing important." Kaz shrugged.

"We just had tea."

[bethanythebogwitch]

So a while back I made this post

And it became very popular. While many people already knew, I did get some asking why humboldt squids are scary. So for this Wet Beast Wednesday I'm going to teach you why you should be afraid, or at least respectful, of molluscoid menace that is the humboldt squid.

(image: a humboldt squid)

Known to scientists as Dosidicus gigas and to many others as the jumbo squid, pota, jibia, and diablo rojo, the humboldt squid is the 5th largest squid in the world and the largest of the flying squids. Don't worry, it can't actually fly. They reach an average mantle length (tat's excluding the head and arms) of 1.5 meters, with some specimens reaching up to 2 meters (6.5 ft) in mantle length. The arms can reach up to another meter in length. Adults can weigh up to 50 kg (150 lbs), with females generally being larger than males. They live in the Pacific along the cost of the Americas, from the tip of South America up to California in North America. Some individuals have been known to travel farther north, up to Alaska, which is outside of their historical range. It is possible that as the ocean warms, their native range will continue to expand north.

(image: a humboldt squid releasing ink as a defense mechanism)

Humboldt squids reproduce in deep waters, and as a result we don't know much about their courtship. Males use a modified arm called the heterocotylus to transfer sperm into the female's mantle. She then lays a transparent, gelatinous egg mass that is left to float in the water column. These masses can range between 1 and 4 meters in diameter can can contain up to 4 million eggs. Hatchlings receive no parental care and most will die before adulthood. They grow extremely rapidly, likely as a self-defense against cannibalism by larger squids. Like many squid, humboldts only live for a year and die shortly after mating.

(image: a humboldt squid next to a much braver diver than I will ever be)

As with most cephalopods, the humboldt squid has cells called chromatophores that allow it to change color. Cameras attached to captured and released specimens have show two types of color-changing behavior: flashing and flickering. Flashing is when the animal changes rapidly between red and white. This is done in the presence of other squid and is likely a means of communication, possibly a form of courtship or warning to stay away. Flickering is when waves of red and white travel down the body. This is likely a form of camouflage to blend in with light flickering through the water. In addition to flashing and flickering, cameras have seen multiple forms of color changes and communication behaviors, indicating that they have a rich social life. The red color the squid turns when hunting contributes to its nickname amongst Mexican fishermen: "diablo rojo", the "red devil".

(gif: humboldts changing color)

So all that sounds pretty normal, why are they scary? Well that comes down to their feeding behavior and aggression. Humboldt squids hunt in shoals that can include thousands of members and go into feeding frenzies that can make shark feeding frenzies look like a child's tea party. They are infamous for their aggression and there are many stories of them attacking divers and fishermen. Not even they are immune to their predation, as multiple studies have found between a half and a quarter of all dissected specimens have recently fed on others of their species. Cannibalism may make up a major portion of their diet, though cannibalistic behavior seems to increase in response to stress. Their typical diet consists of fish, crustaceans, and other squids. Humboldts typically keep their two long tentacles coiled up between their arms, only for them to suddenly lash out and grab prey. These tentacles have multiple sharp hooks that have been reported to cause severe cuts in humans. Captured prey is then pulled in toward the beak and consumed. Feeding happens so fast that scientists need to us high-speed cameras to record the capture as the tentacles move so fast they prey can be caught and reeled in between frames. Eating is also fast enough that they can grab a hooked fish and skeletonize it in the time it takes a frustrated angler to pull their catch in. And if that wren't enough, they also engage in cooperative hunting, working together to catch prey. When not feeding or being hunted, they have been described as curious, though they often react to unfamiliar stimuli with aggression. Some divers have reported that humboldts will come investigate them and even act friendly, though I can't say I'd be willing to try it.

(gif: a squid attacking a camera)

(gif: hunting squid)

Numerous fishermen's tales and news stories tell of attacks on humans, but the squid do have a reason to not like us. They are fished heavily, especially off the coat of Mexico and are the most important squid for commercial fisheries. Humboldt squids make up about a third of all squid fished every year and are the most popular food squid. Squid meat is saturated with ammonium chloride, which they use for buoyancy, and must be prepared to remove the taste before eating. Not much is known about threats to conservation, though some speculate that overfishing and global warming disrupting their food supply could threaten the population. They are listed as data deficient by the IUCN. As scary as they might be, humboldt squids serve a very important ecological role in their territories, both as primary predators and as prey to sharks and toothed whales, and more research on their sustainability and conservation needs is important.

(image: a scientist attaching a crittercam to a humboldt squid)

[hoonvrs]

‘TIS THE SEASONS

PAIRING enha × gnr

DESC. how you’d spend christmas with enha

GENRE est. relationship, fluff

WARNING swearing, play fighting

W. COUNT 0.8k

S. NOTES falalalalaaaalalalalaa

LEE HEESEUNG

( ice skating )

people often forget how good hee is good at ice skating with a professional ice skater in his group

but when he found out you were okay at best, insisted you had to go together 

i think he’d prefer to be holding hands skating together instead of teaching you from square one

would feel his heart fluttering from seeing you so happy on the ice

insists on holding your hand ‘just in case’

does it so he can have you close the whole time

regrets it instantly when you slip and pull him down with you

somehow still finds it romantic that you both now have matching bruises 

PARK JONGSEONG

( cuddling/hot chocolate galore )

as much as he loves cooking, he’d prefer to order in on christmas 

but of course, that doesn’t mean he’s not in the kitchen at all

saw a tiktok of different hot chocolate recipes and got hooked

convinced you that you guys needed to try them all for your movie date

got a different hot chocolate to have with a different movie

tried to theme it but tried too hard and messed up the designs 

best hot chocolate of your life but best believe you could barely finish the fourth one

anything to make jay happy, and he repaid by cuddling under heaps of blankets the whole night

SIM JAEYUN

( baking/decorating gingerbread )

jake doesn’t have a single baking bone in his body

don’t know what possessed him to think he could make gingerbread from scratch

gingerbread tastes like ass, good thing you already bought ready-made dough

everything becomes a competition between you two and this was no exception

challenged who can make the best gingerbread men and house

by the end, you have jellies, sprinkles, and other sweets all over the floor and table

somehow also ends up on the christmas tree???

turns out jake also can’t decorate so his house looked like a hot mess that you keep for display on the mantle next to yours

PARK SUNGHOON

( christmas market date )

begged you to go to the market on charismas day

both wearing your biggest scarves and fluffiest gloves cause its cold as fuck outside

practically dragged you the second he saw a churro stand

refuses to leave until you both tried nearly all the stands

walks along the river with a steaming hot drink in your hands

stay to admire the lights 

would put your hands in his pockets if you say you’re cold

refuses to let you spend a single penny cause he’s the best boyfriend ever

KIM SUNWOO

( cooking together )

sunoo has always wanted to cook with his s/o finding the intimacy cute

what better occasion than a christmas dinner

gets recipes and a few practice classes from his jay hyung a few days before so he’s prepared for you

you walk in on all the ingredients and bowls laid out with a smiley sunoo in the middle

could never refuse him anything when he asked to cook together so cutely 

went in overestimating both of your cooking abilities in making two dishes never mind five

three hours later you finally have your meal ready

actually wasn’t bad, so worth it seeing how proud he was renouncing himself as ‘enhypens new cook’ but don’t tell jay

YANG JUNGWON

( playing/fighting in the snow )

your date with jungwon didn’t mean to end in the snow

started when you threw a snowball at him after your little restaurant date

as much as he loves you, he also loves winning

thus, commencing the biggest snow fight of your life

talking rapid fire shots -- no survivors 

would stop when he hits you in the face by accident and goes to check up on you

worried thinking he hurt you until you flip last second and throw one back square in the face

ends with you guys making snow angels before going home both cold and wet

NISHIMURA RIKI

( tree decorating )

you almost had an aneurism when you saw the tree was still bare and it was already the 25th

screw all your plans’ you guys were going to decorate the tree instead

take a little trip to the closest shop to get a few missing decorations

can’t do anything with your boyfriend without a few playful arguments

ends with the tree having three different tinsel colours that clash cause neither of you would back down

every other bulb was a printed meme because riki doesn’t believe in separating decoration and humour

of course, lifts you up by the waist to put the star on the top because you’re his star

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads ​@teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su @yuemvi @chirokookie @idk-tbh777 @s00buwu @ynsvnte @isawritesss

[iliketangerines]

Part two of “fall from grace”? But the reader somehow runs away and after months or more when Liu Kang finally finds them reader moved to another village and begin to live more peaceful life and basically just wanted to cut off the whole “I want to be a champion” thing and the reader is not happy and bitter to see Liu Kang, ((plot is like enemies to lovers :3 ))

fall from grace pt. 2

a/n: this is all i got

pairing: liu kang x afab!reader

warnings: angst?

you gather water from the well, easily lifting the heavy metal bucket to the surface and pouring the water into your own jug

your kids run about you, laughing and squealing as they chase a chicken about the village, and you smile at them fondly, calling their names as you haul the water over your shoulders and start to walk back to your house

one of your children walk beside you quietly, holding onto the loose fabric of your hanfu while the others run ahead, pushing and poking at each other as they play their harmless games

looking down at your middle child, you ask if everything was okay, and they grip tighter onto the fabric and shake their head

you frown and put down the water jugs, kneeling on the ground to get eye-level with them, and you ask your son what’s got him so bothered

he sniffles and says that he saw something in his dreams, that you would be taken away from him and his siblings, and he starts to wail

pulling him into a tender hug, you cradle the back of his head and sooth him, telling him that nothing would ever tear you away from him or his siblings

his small hands clutch onto the back of your clothing, and he lets out a warbled promise

you pull away and grin at him, holding out your pinky and saying that you pinky promise that you will never leave him

he wipes away his tears and hooks your pinky with his own and shakes it, and you get back up and pick up the water jugs, walking back to your home

it’s oddly quiet and your ears strain to listen for your other rambunctious children, and you spot your eldest by the entrance of the door, holding onto the younger ones tightly

their hands tremble, and the little ones are quiet

you hurry over and drop the water jugs to the floor, opening your arms and letting them barrel into your chest and hug you tight as you ask what was wrong, and they whisper to you that a man was inside

the hairs on the back of your neck rise, and you glance at the creaking doorway, trying to find the intruder

pressing soft kisses to their foreheads, you tell your eldest to go to the village elder and take shelter there for now, and you stand up, preparing to enter your own home

your son pulls at your hanfu, panickedly saying that he doesn’t want you to be taken away, and you say that you pinky promised that you wouldn’t leave any of them

you brush his hair out of his face and tell him to brave, and he purses his lips, eyes bright with tears, but he nods and hurries to his eldest that has started to carry the others away

taking in a deep breath, you enter your house, warm and familiar to you, and your footsteps are quiet as you remember your training from all those years ago

it’s silent and quiet, and it makes you feel uneasy

there was always life in your house with three small kids and only one eldest child, and now the silence makes you uneasy

peeking your gaze around the corner into living room, you see a man kneeling before the altar, incense lit and the smoke wafting about the room

his back is facing you, but you recognize the man, Liu Kang

he turns around, already knowing that you were there, and he tells you to sit by him

begrudgingly you do so and sit next to him, staring at the photo of your late partner on the mantle, but you do not press your palms together in respect, still wary of the god sitting next to you

Liu Kang doesn’t look at you as he addresses you, saying that you had made quite the comfortable life for yourself after you had escaped from the prisons

you don’t answer, gripping onto the loose fabric of your clothing and trying to keep your calm as Liu Kang continues to talk about your domestic life

he continues, saying that your four kids were quite cute, and that your eldest held quite the striking resemblance to him, long black hair, white eyes

memories of you escaping the compound seep in, memories of you sitting in front of the toilet and flushing vomit down the drain

Liu Kang had released you from the prison weeks ago and shared his quarters with you after you stopped putting up a hissy fit with him

your hand had cradled the curve of your stomach, and a chilling fear of your child’s future had run through you

the monastery was comfortable but cold, always expecting something more and more and more, especially Liu Kang, and you don’t want that for your child, you don’t want them to lead the same life that you had

and so, you ran away that night

you purse your lips together at the memory and refuse to even look at him because you already knew why he was here

the last tournament was coming up, and he needs another defender to participate in the tournament, you had heard the news about Kung Lao

neither of you speak, sitting in the silence of the room as the minutes dragged on, and he finally speaks, saying that he should’ve treated you better when you were underneath his care

Liu Kang finally turns his head to face you, but you keep your gaze straight ahead, staring at the photo of your partner smiling at you

you tear your gaze away to look at the floor, and you say that you refuse to participate in the tournaments, you have a life here now and you weren’t going to leave it

the god purses his lips and frowns, saying that you don’t have much of a choice, that Kung Lao has been killed and that he needs another defender

finally, you look to him and hiss that you will not participate, you have children, a life, a comfortable life that you will not leave for him and his stupid tournaments, the one thing that had ruined your entire life

your entire existence had been for training and training and training and expectation after expectation, and you would never go through that again, would never put your own children through that

you tell him to get out, get out of your home and your life and to never come back, you have finally found a sense of normalcy, and you will not let him ruin it

he sighs and says that he has no other options and that it must be you, and you grit your teeth and say that you will not participate

it’s a lie, you both know it is, that you have to go whether or not you wanted to

Liu Kang stands up and bows to you, and you hear his footsteps creaking through the old house as he leaves your home

tension immediately drops from your body as you let out a relieved sigh and place your face in your hands, trying to compose yourself before you collected your children

taking in a deep breath, you stand up and brush off invisible dust, walking up the mantle and sighing, muttering into the air about what you should do

the photo of your partner stares back at you blankly, smiling, and you turn around and leave your home to go to the elder’s home and find your children

they come back with tens of questions, asking and asking, and you answer each one as carefully as possible, trying to keep them out of the details about the tournaments

your middle child clings onto you desperately as if he can feel a sort of shift in you, and you tell him that you’re okay, that you’re not going to leave him or any of them

as you tuck them into bed, your eldest stands behind you, and they ask you if that was their father

you turn around with a stern expression and gesture for her to follow you to the backyard by the cherry blossoms

sitting down on the steps to the garden, she sits down next to you as you stare at how the petals fall down to the ground gracefully

for a moment, you don’t say anything to her, and then you start from the beginning, where you grew up in the monastery and that you had developed a relationship with Liu Kang and why you ran away

she’s young, just having entered middle school, and you wait for her answer as she stares at the cherry blossoms with you

her hands cup yours, and she says that she understands, bright eyes that held so much of the wisdom that reminds you of Liu Kang

you smile at her and kiss her forehead, telling her to go to bed and that you love her, you just need a bit of alone time right now

nodding at you, she treads lightly back into the house, leaving you alone with the night sky and the cherry blossoms

your hands grip onto the ledge as you stare at the bright moon, you can feel Liu Kang’s presence sitting behind the tree, and you tell him to come out

his figure appears, and he sits next to you, shoulders barely brushing against your own, letting you sit alone in your thoughts

you know that you need to go, that you never had a choice because if you don’t go, Earthrealm has an automatic forfeit, and you don’t know what spells for the world or your children if Earthrealm forfeits

the side of his palm presses against yours, and you draw your hand away and stand up, whispering to him to at least let you say goodbye to your children

Liu Kang nods and says that you have a month to say goodbye, and then he adds on that if you would let him, he would like to meet his daughter and be in her life

you want to tell him no, to stay away from your cozy life that you had so delicately built for yourself, but you know it’s not your choice

telling him that you’ll ask your daughter if she wants to meet him, you open the door to enter, and he says that he loved you, that he loves you

the air seems to still as you pause in your steps, and then you close the door behind you and slide down the door, hands in your face as you cry

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

in a boy's dream

pairing: stars! chris x reader

cw: infidelity, p in v, oral, unprotected sex, friends to lovers

summary: you have a boyfriend (who is a cheater), but you have a best friend, chris who thinks you deserve better

a/n: idc how cringe it may be i listened to crash into me by dave mattews band multiple times while i wrote this, so that's where the title comes from

wc: 2.5k

“I’ll kill that asshole. I swear it, this time,” he says, flicking ash from his cigarette. His hand rests on the on the railing of your balcony. It’s nearly midnight.

“No, it’s my fault,” you say, wiping your nose with your sweater. “I should’ve given him more attention when he needed it. He wouldn’t have run to other girls if I had.”

“No, you don’t get it.” He gestures emphatically like he’s revealing the secrets of the universe to you. “You’re the perfect girl, and he doesn’t deserve you.”

“First off,” You say, an accusatory finger pointed in his direction, “I am not the perfect girl, and second, we don’t even know if he was really cheating, you know, we haven’t even heard his side of the story.”

“You’re really gonna stay with him?” Chris is indignant, and you only realize the reason is two-fold later that night.

“You haven’t had a successful relationship, like, ever, so why do you think you have the right to judge me?” You turn your head towards the night sky and cross your arms over your chest.

“Whoa. Defensive much?” His face is plastered with the same incredulous grin.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

Smoke from the cigarette surrounds him like a storm cloud and yet he still glows under the porch light like an angel.

“It’s okay,” he says, rubbing your shoulder in a painfully platonic way. If only he knew how you felt about him.

Inside your apartment, he cleans up the remnants of your movie night. Popcorn kernels, beer bottles, and used tissues. You had a cheesy romance marathon. If only he knew.

“Do you wanna stay?” You ask as he lingers by the door, planning his exit. You pray it doesn’t sound as pathetic to him as you think it does when you hear the words leave your mouth.

“What will your boyfriend think about that?” He says mockingly, skirting around the inevitable “yes”.

“He won’t know about it. Plus, it’s not like we’re doing anything.”

“Sure this isn’t your way of trying to stick it to him for cheating?”

“No, like I said, I’m going to be the bigger person about this.”

He follows you into your bedroom like a lost puppy. “I don’t think I’ve ever really seen this room…” He takes in the scenery, the majority of the décor is clearly chosen by you, but there are remnants of a man who shares this room with you.

“It’s nothing special.” You yawn, exhausted to the point where you think you might topple over while you’re on the hunt for something to sleep in. You must look ridiculous – drunk, really, even though you’re only tipsy. You fumble through the laundry for a moment until Chris offers, “You can have my shirt if you need something to sleep in.”

The t-shirt is the gateway drug. You know once you see him shirtless you’ll be hooked. You’ve caught a glimpse before, and the image sits in an ornate frame on the mantle of your mind palace. In every fantasy, he ends up in bed with you, and yet, when the event is about to unfold in front of you, there’s something that holds you back. Your boyfriend has you trapped in his greedy hands, always grasping for more women than they can satisfy.

Chris’ t-shirt has the STARS symbol on it and it smells like him. Like cigarettes and aftershave. And whatever pheromones you’ll blame your rash decision-making on, the ones that have you captivated by him.

The sound of your breathing fills the silence in your bedroom. You feel the same sensation that one does when they knock something off the counter by accident, everything is happening in slow motion, and there is nothing you can do to stop the collision, but your heart rate increases while you scramble for a solution.

“Hey,” he says, letting the word linger long enough for you to piece it all together.

“Hey,” you say, breath heavy with the unspoken words.

“I mean it when I say you deserve to be treated better than the way he treats you.”

You nod in reluctant agreement.

What is the point in resistance? You draw lines in the sand between yourselves but still inch towards the boundaries, the dips in the mattress where your bodies lie helpless against the tide of desire.

Your lips meet meet their fate, colliding with Chris’. Chris pulls back first, “You can blame it on me tomorrow… if you’re still stuck on being the bigger person.”

“We can’t,” you say, betraying the hunger inside you.

“Because of him?”

You look away, knowing that locking eyes with Chris will be your last moment of sanity before the parasitic lust inside you takes over its host.

“What do you want? I want this to be about you, not him, not me.”

“I want you,” you admit. It’s always been him.

“You have me,” he says.

One of his hands cups your cheek while the other strokes your side. He doesn’t slide his hand under your shirt until you lean in to kiss him again. His touch is gentle, which would surprise many due to his muscular frame and the confidence with which he carries himself, but not you. You remember all of his subtleties, every time he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, the way his palm grazed your back when he slipped passed you in the STARS office last week, most of all, in the rain, when he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you under the awning, helping you narrowly avoid the droplets that were falling from the gutter above.

You’ve imagined his hands cupping your breasts before but the feeling of his thumb grazing your nipple is more tantalizing than the sensation of your own fingertips, which they’re wholly used to after all the time you’ve spent in this bed, using your fingers to mimic the motions of his in your fantasies.

You gasp into his mouth, a final intake of air before he leaves you breathless. You hook your leg over his hip, still covered by sweatpants much to your dismay. You pull him closer with all the strength in your calves – all thanks to training with Chris – and you can feel his hardness straining against the fabric.

Chris sneaks a glance at your panties – a solid color cotton pair – and you worry he’ll be disappointed until you see his smile, so soft, so real.

“Sorry, I would’ve put in more effort if I’d known.”

“Shut up,” he says, bringing his mouth towards yours, “you’re beautiful. I think the color really suits you.”

Your face flushes and he thinks the pink in your cheeks suits you better, but he doesn’t dare say it. “I like the way you look in my shirt,” he says.

“I like it, too, it smells like you.”

“I can’t decide if I want you to take it off or not.”

“Well, I,” you say, tugging at the waistband of his pants, “want to get these off of you.”

“I suppose it’s only fair,” he says, and removes them, revealing similarly plain colored underwear. The fabric isn’t the focus, though, it’s an obstruction. Eagerly, you tug the waistband down and his hard cock pops out. You watch as a bead of precum forms at the tip. He needs you as much as you need him.

When Chris lays you back on the bed and lifts your shirt up to gain access to your dripping core, you watch on in awe. He looks up, feeling your eyes on him.

“Something the matter?”

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve-- the last time anyone’s done this.”

“He didn’t eat you out?”

You shake your head and Chris’ bewilderment makes you shy.

“Oh, baby, we are making up for lost time tonight, then,” he mumbles as he dips his head between your thighs. His tongue glides over your slit in languid movements – he needs to savor you. You don’t even realize how loud you’re moaning because you’re so entranced by the fact that the man going down on you is not just a man, it’s Chris, the man you’ve wanted for so long, and he’s even better than you’d dreamed he’d be.

He lifts his head and you think you might push it back down.

“I can’t fucking believe he had the chance to do this all the time and he didn’t take it. Goddamn, you taste so good.”

“He did it occasionally in the beginning of our relationship.” It takes you a full minute to get the sentence out because all the air in your lungs is sucked up by your moans. Luckily, Chris’ mouth is occupied and he can’t interrupt.

Between breaths you say, “But, you’re so much better than he-- oh, Chris, I’m gonna—” Your labored breaths turn into whines and you’re teetering on the edge, gripping the bedsheets, trying to delay your pleasure until you’re sure he’s okay with you letting go. He doesn’t let up. Instead, he caresses your hips and your thighs, reassuring you that you can-- no, you should cum in his mouth.

You moan loud enough that your neighbors bang a broom on the wall as you coat his face with your arousal. Chris is beaming, yet slightly dazed when he meets your eyes. His hands on your cheeks are gentle when he pulls you in for a kiss, but you’re already scrambling for a way to repay what you consider to be a favor.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s all about you tonight,” he whispers.

“I want to make you feel good.”

“Really, it’s—”

“No, Chris, I want to.”

“Okay, then, how do you want me?”

“Will you—” You chew on your lip, unable to finish your sentence.

“Will I?” “Fuck me… Please?” The request itself is not unexpected, but your vulgarity is.

“Fuck yes.” He kisses you again, nearly getting lost in the feeling of your lips before he stops. “Wait—do you have a condom ‘cause I didn’t bring any… I would’ve prepared if I’d known.”

“I do, but I don’t wanna use one.”

The look of shock – poorly hidden excitement—on his face makes your cheeks burn. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m on the pill and I’m clean… I always made him use protection, so…”

“But not me?”

“I was always worried that he was seeing someone else… and I wanted to be safe…” There’s a pause. “And, I guess I knew that he never deserved to have me like that.”

“He didn’t deserve to have you at all.”

He gives his cock a few anticipatory pumps before he lines up at your entrance.

“I wouldn’t go that far. I’m not—” You cut yourself off with a noise that’ll surely have your neighbors banging on your door.

Panting already, you say, “Go slower… please…”

“Sorry,” he says, nervously scratching the back of his neck, “I guess I got a little carried away.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re just… really big… and I’m not used to it yet…”

You realize the implication at the same time Chris does and though turned on by the flattery, he’s more amused than anything.

“Oh? He wasn’t this big?”

“Uh-uh.” Your expression quickly shifts with that snap of his hips. Previously grinning – on the verge of laughter – now your head is thrown back and your eyes are shut.

With your neck now exposed, Chris sucks lightly on the skin without considering the consequences until he pulls back and notices the bruise forming. He runs his fingers over the spot.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave a mark. I’ll get you ice later and we can cover it up.”

“No, I want you to leave marks. I want him to know I’m yours.”

He shouldn’t be so surprised. You’ve always been his. More than ever when he hits the perfect spot inside you, making you moan so loudly that he has to cover your mouth to muffle the sounds lest you get a noise complaint.

When you clench around him, he groans into your ear. “I wish we didn’t have to be so quiet. I wanna hear all of your pretty noises.”

Selfishly, he removes his hand from your mouth. Screw the neighbors. They’re lucky to hear your beautiful voice, he thinks.

“You’re so much better than him,” you say, though it almost comes out panicked as the realization hits you. “Shit- I think I’m gonna cum again.”

“Yeah? I’m close, too.”

“Don’t pull out… please.”

He can’t refuse a request like that. He should, but he can’t. “Oh fuck,” he says, “you want me to cum inside you?”

“Yeah-- Chris, I’m—”

Having given up on covering up your moans, his hand cradles the back of your head as he buries himself to the hilt inside you. You wrap your legs around his hips, forcing him as deep as possible. His thrusts remain slow, but steady, barely pulling out each time.

His orgasm hits at the same time as yours does. You nearly scream at the intensity, but Chris presses his lips to yours before you can piss off the neighbors. He fucks you slowly through the aftershocks, and even once his hips finally halt their movements, you continue making out, clinging to each other because the thought of letting go makes your heart ache.

Once you’re overstimulated and he’s forced to pull out, he wraps you in his arms and you don’t know realize you’ve fallen asleep until you wake up hours later. Chris is still asleep, he’s still holding you. He’s so warm and real, and that’s what makes the tears fall. You’re crying silently, but he wakes up to your head buried into his chest, wet droplets on his bare skin.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Told you I’d take the fall for you, remember?” He assumes you’re ashamed of what you did.

“No, no, that’s not it. It’s just that I… I don’t want to lose you.”

“What makes you think you’d lose me?”

“I can’t keep hiding my feelings from you, and if you don’t like me back then, then, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You don’t have to worry about that ‘cause I do like you back.”

“You mean, like, really like me? Not just as a friend?”

“Yeah, I always have. I just didn’t want to tell you since you were with someone else. I didn’t want to ruin what you had with him… until I saw how shitty he was treating you…”

“There was nothing left to ruin.”

“… I could ruin him… or at least, I could rough him up a little if you’d like.”

“How about you just get physical with me instead?”

“Oh yeah? Think you can be quiet this time?”

“It’s not like I’m loud all the time! They can handle a little noise. It’s a Saturday night.”

“Really? You’re not loud all the time ‘cause you were pretty loud with me.”

“Yeah, with you.”

“Not with him?”

“With who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

“Oh, you mean my ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah, that guy.”

“I almost forgot he existed.”