#it definitely looks brown looking at it again

[utterlyotterlyx]

Sweet Creature

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.

Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)

Word count - 8.4k (oops)

Based on this ask

It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.

And fast.

Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.

"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.

"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."

Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.

Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.

The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.

A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.

"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.

Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."

It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.

Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.

But you had never needed saving, and you never would.

Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.

A celestial witch. In the flesh.

Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.

"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."

"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."

A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."

If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.

Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.

In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.

You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.

"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.

There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.

"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"

Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.

"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"

Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.

Then a laugh.

Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.

A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.

It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.

The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.

Azriel gasped.

"Mate."

Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"

Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.

"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.

"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.

Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."

The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.

Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.

"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."

The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.

Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.

And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.

In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.

It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.

You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.

There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.

Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.

Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.

Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.

Talk to me.

Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.

If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.

In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.

It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.

"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."

Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.

The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.

Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."

Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.

"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."

"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.

"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."

"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."

Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."

"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"

Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."

Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.

Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?

Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.

If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.

Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.

Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.

That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.

"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.

It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.

Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"

Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."

In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.

"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.

Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."

Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."

That fucking name.

You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."

The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.

Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.

"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."

Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.

"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."

Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"

Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."

Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.

In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.

Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.

"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."

Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."

If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.

Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.

Fuck.

It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.

Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.

Rhys. I didn't know.

I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.

Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.

Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."

Stop talking.

"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."

Stop fucking talking.

"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."

Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.

Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"

Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"

It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."

Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.

Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.

Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.

"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"

Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."

"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."

It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.

The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.

The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.

"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."

Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."

"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.

How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?

You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.

"How did you find me?"

A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"

You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.

Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.

You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."

"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."

The world stopped moving.

"What?"

Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."

Break the bond.

It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."

Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"

"It's what's best for us, y/n."

No. No, no, no.

"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."

You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.

Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.

"You never let me in."

Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.

You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.

Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?

"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."

His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.

"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."

Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."

All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.

A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."

Let her in. Feel her.

The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.

"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."

Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.

As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.

Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.

It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.

When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.

The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.

It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.

"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"

Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."

Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."

Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.

Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.

Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?

All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.

"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."

"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."

Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."

"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."

"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."

Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."

The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"

If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.

Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.

Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.

Utterly magical. Soul consuming.

Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.

"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."

"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."

Authors Note

Hey besties!

I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo

Taglist

@crazylokonugget @fxckmiup @rogersbarnesxx @emryb

#acotar imagine #acotar #acotar fanfiction #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel angst #azriel fluff #rhysand #cassian #azriel fic #lucien acotar #rhys acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris imagine #mor acotar #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #elain archeron

[ih34rt-alphatxuri]

Hi! Can I request a Carlos Sainz x Reader?

The reader is a fashion blogger and one day got asked to do a photoshoot for Mercedes with Lewis Hamilton, it turned out great because even the fans are starting to ship them online and all over social medias. Carlos gets adorably jealous of seeing her in other team’s color and the fans reaction didn’t help either.

Thanks!

It's not nothing

table of contents/pairing: carlos sainz x reader

summary: check request !!

warnings: some cursing, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content but no actual smut.

message from A☆: Has this been sitting in my drafts for weeks ? Yes. Did I fully scrap the original fic ? Yes. But here it is !! I felt this kind of trope was especially fitting after Carlos' win in Australia, so I tied that in. ALSO, WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK. Again, sorry for taking so long to get this request done, but I hope you enjoy...

It was just her job. That's what Carlos kept telling himself as he looked at the pictures. Y/N, one of his closest friends and a very popular fashion girly, had done a photo shoot with Lewis Hamilton, his replacement. Now sure, Carlos hadn't left Ferrari just yet, hell the season had barely even started, but it was just a sad coincidence. The longer he stared at the photos the more jealous he became, he felt stupid for it. But she looked gorgeous in silver and green, even though she'd look better in red, and the way they had Lewis pose with his hands around her waist made him want to claw his eyes out. And to make matters worse, fans all over the internet kept making little comments about the idea of her and Lewis being together. He needed to keep reminding himself, they were just friends. Just friends. But friends didn't think of each other the way Carlos thought of Y/N. Friends didn't crave each other the way Carlos craved Y/N. But it was whatever, it was nothing, he had remind himself.

It. Was. Nothing.

---

Ok, so maybe it's not nothing. He was trying to celebrate his win in Australia, enjoy himself with his team and his friends, but he couldn't keep his eyes off her. Mercedes had invited Y/N to the Grand Prix, so she'd been in the paddock the whole weekend. It was easy to distract himself from her when he was wrapped up in his work, but now watching her from afar as she swayed her hips on the dance floor, it was too much. Her dress sparkled beneath the lights, her hair swished around in tandem with her body, she looked perfect. It was eating him alive, he needed to do something. He needed her.

"Carlos!" She screamed excitedly over the music, looking up at him with an almost drunken gaze. It wouldn't be shocking if she was drunk, they were out partying, and as much as Carlos didn't want to admit it he was a little tipsy too.

"Hey..." He said as he took her waist in his hands. She didn't stop dancing, letting him press her body into hers as they swayed to the music, what's the worst that could happen? They were best friends. Friends dance together. It was nothing. But then dancing turned into teasing touches, and then kisses, and then running off together to Carlos' room. So yeah, it definitely wasn't going to be nothing the next day.

---

He was the first to wake up of the two. The sight of her tangled in his bedsheets and arms made his heart want to sink. What if he'd ruined it with a drunken mistake? He grounded himself with a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't freak out once she awoke.

About 20 minutes later, Y/N began to wake up. She looked around confused for a moment, until her eyes met a very familiar pair of brown ones. Oh shit, she thought to herself, I've fucked everything up. She went to try and speak or stand up, but she felt Carlos' hand on hers, stopping her.

"Look Y/N, I know this is..."

"Carlos, I'm so sorry, I'll leave ri-"

"Cariño, relájate (darling, relax)...look, I don't know if i can keep lying to myself and you. I like you, a lot. And it just seems so stupid to me because you're on of my best friends in the whole world, friends shouldn't want each other the way I want you. It felt like it just blew up in my face after you did that photoshoot for Mercedes with Lewis, and all the stuff that's been happening. It just made me feel so...like I needed to have you all to myself. But at the same time I don't want to ruin what we have, so if you don't feel the same just forget this ever happened..." He kept going on his rant, and she just stared at him a little bewildered yet flattered.

"Carlos...who said I don't like you like that?" She giggled, taking his hand in hers once again. He looked into her eyes with a wide-eyed and relieved look, smiling brightly as he took her face into his hands and gently kissed her. He pulled back seconds later.

"I'm going to fast, aren't I?" He said with a bashful look to him.

"I mean...we're already here, so might as well" She smiled up at him with the warmest smile and the most loving eyes. If anyone happened to see the pair they'd think they were soulmates, which they very possibly were. And so in that moment, Carlos thought to himself, maybe it's not nothing anymore.

#f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz imagine #f1 #carlos sainz

[mopopshop]

Can you do Emily and reader doing those cute couple TikTok’s?

Emily X Reader Couple Tiktok’s

emily doesn’t like making tiktok’s but she’ll do them for you

refuses to do the dances tho😭

you’ll do little grwm’s and emily will poke her head in any chance she gets bcs she doesn’t need ur followers thinking ur single (even though you never shut up about her)

outfit transition tiktok’s like this one

doing the “saying my gfs favorite words” trend on her LMAO example

THIS ONE

“my gf does my makeup voice over” trend 

You had filmed a tiktok of you doing your makeup and wanted Emily to try that voiceover trend, the two of you were sitting next to each other as she held your phone. You’d opted to sit next to her while she did it just to help out some.

“Alright so she wants me to do her voiceover for this get ready with me thing, so first she’s gonna put a headband on to keep her hair out of her face”

“Starting off she’s putting on.. moisturizer? Skincare?” She turns to you with a chuckle “I’m already fuckin confused” 

“It’s primer babe” you smile 

“Primer, right right. She’s rubbing the primer on her face, next step is brows so she’s taking a little baby brush and combining through those thick ass eyebrows of hers” she laughs again and you scoff smacking the side of her head.

“Then she’s taking fou-foundation?” Emily turns to you again to double check and you nod approvingly “Okay wait period, ate that up. Anyways she puts that stuff on then blends it with a blender. Remember to beat the fuck out of your face with it, key step” you burst out laughing from beside her as she talks into the phone.

“Then concealer, I know that one for sure for sure, and puts it under her eyes and on her chin, remembering to punch herself in the face with that sponge thingy”

“Okay next is this um? brown… cream.. thing” 

you whisper to her “Contour”

“C-Contour and she puts it on her nose and cheeks to you know.. accentuate the lower part of her face. Did that sound smart?” she looks at you again for assurance.

“Not even close Em but keep going” You continue to laugh, as you haven’t stopped since you started filming.

“Now for some white powder and she’s just gonna pat that all over her face until she looks like a pretty little powdered donut”

“Then we brush it all off and put on blush. Look at her lookin all cute y’all, with the pink cheeks” She literally smiles at the phone 

“Now for mascara, the only thing I actually use and then she’s gonna take this… overpriced spray bottle-“ 

You elbow her to whisper out “setting spray”

“Oh excuse me,” she says sarcastically, laughing “setting spray and to finish everything off she puts some lip gloss. That’s all and she looks fine as fuck with or without it so don’t be in my girls comments trying some slick-“

You quickly take the phone from her, shoving her arm and finish the video “bye everyone!” and you click out of the voiceover tab.

she lets you do that one coquette trend where you tie a bow around her bicep and she flexes😭😭she’s very shy and  embarrassed by it btw 

comments begging her to make her own acc 

ynfan123

when will emily make her own acc🙏🙏🙏🙏

ynaccount replied

“i’m never doing that shit” direct quote from emily herself 

doing the “spin 15 times then try to kiss” trend

OOOH OMG THE “MINE VS HERS” TREND ACTUALLY SOBBING example

there’s multiple videos like this on your page cus ur a certified horndog 🙏🏾🙏🏾

this one’s so cute too omg

comment’s definitely are filled w ppl being “jealous” of y’all’s relationship 

ynfan123

the way she looks at you MY GODDD 

ynfan123

parting my hair w a chainsaw ❤️

ynfan123

so me and who

ynfan123

CON😭GRAT😭ULAT😭😭IONS

so many tiktok’s of emily just chilling under your shirt 

showing off ootd’s together but she’ll literally stand in front of you if you turn around cus ain’t nobody need to see your ass but her LMAO

this is so her

you guys do the “your spinning me around, my feet are off the ground” trend and that’s the ONLY “tiktok dance” she’ll do

WILL respond to ppl who thirst over you in her comments 

please don’t hate there’s so many links in this one bcs i wanted y’all to have like visual representations of what i’m saying 😭

also couldn’t decide between a fic or headcannons so i tried to do both, snuck a lil drabble in there

and lastly this might be my favorite one out of all the ones i’ve done so, very proud of it and hope you enjoy!🫶🏾

#women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa #wlw #wnba #emily engstler #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler headcannons

[postersofleon]

Just Like The Beatles

Being in a band with three men while being a lonely girl would sound difficult, but you all managed to make it work. You four tried to use bonding exercises to avoid issues, which included livestreams with fans or smoked weed in private. When you joking said, you should do that infamous Beatle game in Hamburg. You didn't expect them to accept.

content: smut

notes: afab fem!reader; 'bonding' with the boys; um, i can't explain; luis x leon x chris x you; man on man action; modern au; ooc characters; SMUTTY. like there is no plot at all. minors, i know i can't control you, but... this is a sexual situation. if i say, don't read this, you are stubborn and will still try. I'm trying to finish all my long stuff to not overwhelm myself.

taglist: @argreion

The digital clock counted another minute. All the hotel room heard was the breathing of each member of the group. Luis's brown eyes looked at each of his members. This wasn't gay, right? He took a deep breath, "Do you have your dildo?" He wanted to make sure this was perfect for their dumb new activity of the day.

You groaned softly, "I, I got it." You showed your pink toy to your friends. Leon's cheeks turned a bit red but he stayed focused on the mission. Chris nodded his head as well. "Okay, so, how did the Beatles do it again?" He asked softly.

"Well, it was a masturbating game," Leon mumbled softly, "They jacked their dicks together as they yelled out names. Lennon mentioned Churchill but they still... had to cum."

Yeah, this was basically insane.

You nodded your head and took off your bathrobe, showing at least a bit of your breasts and raised your bottom side of it. "I'm ready, I guess." Luis swallowed when he saw your boobs, "I still don't know how this is bonding exercise." He felt himself just getting hard by seeing his lead singer's breasts.

Chris sighed, "Well, if it weren't for her research the Beatles," He rubbed his thighs and pulled out his limp dick, "And you two bozos accepting it. We could've just done a stupid Tiktok trend."

Leon rolled his eyes, "It sounded like a good idea. You saw what music the Beatles did."

"Yeah, until they broke up." Chris muttered.

Leon pulled out his own half harden dick, "No wonder we don't have girlfriends." Leon looked at everyone half naked side. Your pussy and your dildo slowly rubbing it gently to make it wet. Leon groaned, "Fuck, this is definitely a bad idea."

Luis groaned, "Don't judge, I didn't shave." He showed his and he had a bunch of pubes were just there.

"This is so gay." Leon mumbled.

"Forget it." You said, "Now, we have to figure out how to get properly aroused to play the game."

The four idiots looked at each other. Luis saw Chris's dick and Leon's... and soon your cunt. He gently rubbed his to raise it up. "I'm... I'm really trying, eh." He grunt softly.

You closed your eyes for a second and rubbed your dildo on your tits. You clicked on the end of it, and it began to buzz. You focused the buzzing on your nipples and moved it up and down. Leon, Chris, and Luis were just enjoying the how you looked. Leon's legs opened, and he whined softly as his hips buckled.

Chris's eyes followed how the dildo just played around your body.

"I'm wet." You said.

I'm hard." Luis muttered, trying to keep it nice and steady.

Leon nodded his head as he removed his bathrobe. The trio without shame looked at Leon. Leon was a soft version of hot compared to Chris and Luis. Leon had body hair, but he trimmed most of the guys.

Chris was struggling a bit. He sighed, "I can't." The trio looked up at their leader. "Why not?" You asked. Keeping yourself wet sucked as your fingers began to rub your clit to assure it. Chris groaned, "I just don't jack off a lot. I don't even like watch porn."

Leon, Luis, and you had a guilty look.

"It-it's fine. Let's play, and maybe Chris will get hard from... something." Leon knew either way, Chris will feel it. The dildo entered your hole and pumped the toy in and out. "First name..." You whispered softly.

"Albert Wesker." Leon started easy. Everyone from the band knew Wesker was hot whenever they liked it or not. You pinched your nipples as you focused on the idea of Wesker pumping his dick in you. Leon's hand rubbed his tip and moaned softly until his wrist moved up and down his shaft.

Luis rubbed his happy trail and slowly began and avoided his tip. His pre cum began to bubble from his tip. Even if Chris wasn't masturbating, he had Wesker in mind. Chris began to rubbed gently his thighs to raise himself to play the game. Next name.

"Jill Valentine?" Luis said in a questioning tone. Jill was more taboo than Wesker. They respected her.

You pumped the dildo slower for Jill. "Mm, Jill would be so nice..." The men agreed. Leon's butt clenched a bit; he groaned weakly, trying to catch his breath.

Next name. It was your turn but you were too focused on riding your toy. "Hey, your turn." Chris tried to be the bigger adult, but seeing your body squirm around your body. Your cunt clenching on the pink toy...

"Um," You were forced to think. You saw how your band members were just pumping their dicks, it made your stomach feel weak. Your eyes trailed down how Leon masturbated compared to Chris and Luis.

Chris did it as he made a mission. He wasn't completely relaxing as his hand pumped it over and over. His eyes were hazy. Luis was more loving in a way, his legs were wide and kept nothing hidden. His cock was red and needy, but he kept it more under control.

Leon was groaning and making more noise as he pumped his cock. "C'mon, hurry up..." He moaned.

"Leon..." You moaned back.

Your cheeks burned, but you looked at them. All of them needing them a bit more than expected. In a way, everyone knew the game was over as they stood up and crowded Anya. It wasn't the usually friendly stuff they did. It was focused around lust. Luis kept his cock close your face as he pumped it faster. Luis put gently his tip around your lips and traced them together. He hissed weakly before placing his hot cock inside your mouth.

Leon removed your toy from your cunt and got down his knees and saw his lead singer's wetness pour down. "Chris..." Leon's index finger traced down her pussy lips, Chris went down on his knees as well.

Your eyes wanted to look down, but Luis basically was thrusting his cock in your mouth. Chris and Leon opened your legs and went in. Chris kissed your thighs and Leon lick gave small little licks directly from the hole. Making sure to not make the hotel chair dirty. Well, that was his mind set around it. Leon's free hand was still pumping his cock. All Chris can do is see how they went at it.

Leon's tongue moved around your folds and your pretty hole. Collecting all it can. He grabbed your hips tightly, his hot breath against your cunt as his nose rubbed you. Your hand grabbed Leon's hair and tugged on it hard.

Leon whined softly. Luis didn't even focus at the men at your feet. He caressed your cheeks as you took him in.

Your drool traveled down your tits as you moaned like a pathetic toy. Luis slapped your tits and held them, "Fuck, fuck, si..." He grunted weakly.

Leon looked up at you and noticed all the wetness collecting on your pretty cunt. Chris groaned, "This sucks..." His eyes widen when he saw how Luis had you, "We need a better position." He whispered softly. Luis grinned, "Ye-yeah, I need to keep this mouth on my dick..." Leon pressed his nose on your clit before licking it again.

Luis pulled out. You coughed loudly, finally catching your breath. Chris needed to think fast.

Chris stood up and gently kissed your lips. "Can you handle it?" He whispered softly. Your eyes soften, "I can try." You didn't want neither of them left out. He smiled. Despite being the biggest of the three, he was gentle and knew his strength. Leon was accidentally too rough, he didn't mean to, but his strength came into place.

You were carefully placed on the bed into doggy. It felt embarrassing until you felt Chris slowly press his cock around your folds. In front of you, Luis and Leon's cocks were on your face. Luis caressed the top of your head, "Good thing we don't have a concert tomorrow, huh?" Leon smiled too, "We'll be gentle." You knew could trust your drummer and your base player.

Chris grabbed your hips and slowly began to thrust. He groaned weakly. He gently squeezed your butt. Luis and Leon gently shoved their cock into your mouth. They were expecting a blowjob. Just your mouth on them. You groaned softly when you felt Chris's fingertips hold your hip tightly. Luis groaned softly, "Leon, I think we have to handle it ourselves."

Leon whined softly. Luis kissed your lips, "When Chris is done, it'll be our turn." Luis sighed softly, "It's going to end up gay."

"Actually, like Marlon Brando," Leon said, "He slept with men and women to ease himself." Luis sighed softly, "I can't believe we are the same age."

Leon rolled his eyes until he felt Luis's lips on his. Chris thrusted deeper into you, pinning you as he pushed you arched back down. Chris groaned softly as his large arms held your waist. Chris kissed your cheek, his dick was slamming in and out of you. Luis and Leon were just happily making out on the bed in front of you. You gasped weakly once Chris rubbed your clit as he kept and kept going. Your squirmed a bit, kicking your feet a bit, "Chris!" You yelped loudly. Chris rubbed your clit faster, "Sa-save that voice."

You whined loudly, you couldn't take it anymore.

It was too simulating. Seeing Leon's and Luis's cock drag against each other. Bumping into each other. Chris's own cock pumping you, your kicked around, "Chris..." Chris grabbed you and sat you up. His hands grabbed your hips as he moved you up and down.

Leon and Luis were in their own heaven as they gently kissed. Luis' hand caressed Leon's hips and pulled him closer, Luis grabbed Leon's blond hair and pulled him close. Leon moaned softly, his eyes fluttered a bit trying to see Luis, but his mind was stuck on the kiss. Leon pumped their dicks together with the pace Chris had in you. Luis cursed weakly, his hips moved up a bit trying to feel more of Leon.

Your toes curled up, your back arched that specific way and it was takeaway on Chris's actions. Chris rubbed gently your stomach, "C'mon... Luis and Leon need you like I do..." Your eyes weakly looked at how their tips' pre-cum were sticking together. "Mm, need..." You whispered softly. You wanted to choke on them, but you weren't thinking clear and Chris knew so. "Later." His fingers rubbed your clit again, little by little it went faster and faster. Until you released. Your cunt clenched around Chris's cock and attempted to squeeze all of him, but Chris thought it double and wore a rubber. Even Luis and Leon made a mess on Luis's stomach, they all gasped for air for a bit.

You laid on the bed, and Chris held you from the back. Luis and Leon soon followed. Holding each other tightly to give comfort. Luis groaned softly, "So, now what? Is this part of our bonding now?" Guess the Beatles were kind of right.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield #luis serra x reader #luis serra

[mattslolita]

𝑺𝑬𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑰𝑵 ( 𝒄. 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃! )

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔

chris had drifted away from his brothers, nate, madi, and laura, as his blue eyes traveled around the scenery before him, which was the empty beach that laid out before him. beautiful palm trees swayed in the distance, and the soft calls of the seagulls made for a good lullaby as the sun was currently setting on the horizon.

figuring he could find his way back to where he came from, chris decided to walk down towards the area where rocks lay — the waves gently crashed against the rough rocks, a peaceful feeling overtaking him as he lets out a content sigh. the sunset cast warm hues of orange and a looming darker blue color as it reached the peak where the sun met water.

and as he was walking down the path, he seen her.

her beautiful brown skin glowed against the water droplets which shimmied down her body, as she ran her fingers through her braided locs carefully, so that the current pink flower which resided in her hair, didn't fall out.

he was immediately encapsulated by the girl's beauty and something inside him was pulling him towards her, his body was signaling, 'go, chris!'.

and so he does just that, careful not to scare her as he approaches — he can now see that she makes her way towards her blanket which had her belongings on it, as well as a spread of various freshly picked fruits.

out of her peripheral vision, she can see the lonesome boy approaching her, causing a warm smile to grace her lips as her eyes rove over his handsome features. his brown locs were tucked messily under a white backwards cap he wore, a chain on his wrist as his blue eyes had found her soft earthy browns, a look of curiosity behind them.

"would you like to sit here?" her voice soft as honey, and he immediately decides it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

"only if you'll have me," the boy says to her with a small grin, to which she smiles and pats the space next to her.

she scoots over, and as he's sitting down he can see the green bikini set that hugs all her curves beautifully, and he finds himself sneaking glances at her as she looks out at the sunset before them, her hands perched in her lap as she smiles softly.

"i'm here on vacation with my parents," she tells him, her eyes not leaving the scenery in front of her. "i would much rather be here than at the small club they found, enjoying this beauty God has to offer."

"i definitely agree with that," he nods, looking out into the view as well, "i think hawaii is one of my new favorite vacation spots."

"what's your story?" she asks him, her eyes looking at him curiously as she tilts her head.

"do you mean why did i come here?" he asks her slightly confused, to which she gives a soft giggle.

"it can mean whatever you decide to tell me."

he smiles at the girl beside him, as she picks up a freshly cut strawberry and lifts it to her lips, taking a bite of the fruit. "my brothers and best friend are here for our friend madi's birthday."

"that sounds lovely," she whispers, humming as she chews on the fruit. "i made a few friends here and there, but they seemed to come and go."

"how much longer are you here for?" chris asks her hopefully.

"i have another week here," she smiles at him, offering him her plate of fruit, which he gratefully accepts, "what about you guys?"

"tomorrow's our last day here," he admits disappointedly, around a mouthful of canteloupe.

"it's too bad i won't see you again then," she sighs, her eyes finding the now set sun.

a comfortable silence engulfs the two, as the sky is now tinged with the faintest traces of orange, and instead replaced mostly with warm blue and purple tones. it feels nice to soak up the comfort chris finds within this mystery girl, and he wants nothing more than to stay here in this moment with her forever. he's entranced by her enamoring, yet calm nature, and he finds himself wishing he could know every little detail about her — her favorite color, her favorite movie, what sports she's into — anything that comes to his mind.

"oh my gosh, did we lose chris?"

"where the fuck did he wonder off to?"

"uh oh, that sounds like your search party," she giggles, rubbing her shoulder against his, and it's as if he feels an electric shock from her touch. "i think you'd better get going."

his eyes downcast slightly as he lets out a sigh. "before i go, which fruit is your favorite?"

"in general, or from my plate here?" she asks him with a tilt of her head, to which he chuckles.

"it's whichever you choose," he tells her, mirroring her previous words.

"they're blackberries," she answers with a grin, throwing a stray braid behind her ear, as he begins to pull out his phone. "but what does that have to do with anything?"

"can i have your number, too?" he overlaps her question, causing her to raise an eyebrow but she gently takes his phone from his hand nevertheless and types her number in.

she hands it back to him, and he angles his screen away from her with a mischievous smile as he types something really quickly, then he turns back to her. "it was really nice meeting you."

she smiles and leans into his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to it — he almost gasps at the soft feeling of her plump, glossed lips against his skin. she pulls away with a grin. "it was nice meeting you, too."

with a goofy grin adorning his lips, he stands up and begins to walk away from her, looking back to cast her one final wave, which she returns brightly.

she looks out into the dark ocean, humming under her breath. "chris," she whispers quietly, finding a smile creeping onto her face.

#lilly's love letter💌 #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #christopher owen sturniolo #chris girl #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagine #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #the sturniolos #sturniolo tumblr #chris sturniolo blurb

[pumpkinbxtch]

Hi, I just saw that you said that Jason is a little possessive, so I was wondering can you do a request with Jason and reader in that scenario, where he is a little jealous and possessive boyfriend?

he wrote 'mine' on my upper thigh

— jason grace x fem!reader

warnings: jealousy, language, jealous jason

a/n: I live for this face of everyone, it makes me very irresistible, lol.

— Want to die? — Jason asked, his expression completely changed. As if his pale skin wasn't enough, the way his face turned into a deadly calmness gave them enough reason to doubt every decision they had made in the last two miserable years of their lives. When they felt a cold breeze run down their spine, confirmed they had definitely messed with the wrong guy. What Jason didn't know was that normal mortals didn't find it hard to play that game because, well, those threats were never as real as he was used to.

— It's just a woman, no big deal, buddy — maybe was the brown-haired guy said it in a disdainful tone, or maybe was the last word that made Jason's stomach churn, but he remembered he was still in public, so he tried not to incinerate them with a snap or at least not to keep gritting his teeth the way he was because he swore he was about to shatter them.

— Just a woman — he repeated the words, dragging each one with hatred and disgust. The guy with the red hair looked more nervous than his other friend, so he tried to make peace, but that was something Jason had already left behind as an alternative to that argument. He wouldn't forgive any disrespect to you, because you were his best friend, his girlfriend, the person he would die for without a second thought, and if they wanted to see him that way, then you weren't just a woman, you were his woman.

He glanced to make sure you weren't anywhere near the checkout and took a few steps toward the pair. The redhead was close to wetting his pants, but his friend still had that stubborn look, pretending to downplay the significant difference in height and muscle mass between them.

For a moment, Jason struggled with his morality, because it was stupid to fight with his clearly abnormal strength for something that was easy to ignore because they would never be able to lay a finger on you while he was alive. However, he couldn't help but notice the way their eyes had been roaming over your body or the way they looked at you while you smiled at him. It made his blood boil and awakened the most primitive part of his being causing his logical side to drown and disappear, almost like those days when he was with the wolves. Besides, if he thought about it, it wasn't just them, it was every damn man and woman who dared to smile at you in a way that suggested more than just kindness, especially if they were the ones making you laugh. That's when he always felt on the edge of losing control.

Jason could feel shame somewhere in his conscience for his behavior, but this was also too real to hide for a little longer. That moment alone with those idiots had only given him the golden opportunity to unleash those piled-up frustrations.

— Yeah, just a woman — it was stupid, the conversation didn't go beyond that, but the retort was enough for the air to smell metallic and their hair to stand on end warning of the electricity beginning to fill their surroundings. How bad would it be if two mortals were struck by lightning for earning the title of the biggest idiots of the month? The answer was obvious to Jason: very bad, useless, in fact. So he took a deep breath and watched their hair return to normal.

— She's mine — he said, starting to turn around to go help you, but he stopped when he heard the other mocking him.

— Who says? —Jason was fed up with the irreverence and turned back to them, his fingertips sparking again.

— Beat it —he said as he sent a small electric shock to both of them. Mild enough not to cause harm but enough to make them scream. His eyes literally sparkled, making them doubt what they were seeing, scaring them, and confirming that the Mist hadn't helped when he saw them run. He wondered if he had gone too far, if he had let himself be carried away too much by that part of him that didn't make him proud but that he knew was part of him. In the end, he decided he didn't care, remembering that someone had once told him he had to stop holding back. So, with that philosophy in mind, he decided to go look for you.

The picnic tables weren't as crowded as you expected, in fact, there was hardly anyone around you, and you wondered if it was because for a moment there was a hint of rain or because of the heavy aura that Jason had been carrying since you left the grocery store, and now that you thought about it, you considered that both reasons were possibly related.

— Jason Grace — you called him sweetly as you opened the picnic basket, and he immediately softened his frown and looked in your direction. He was struck by the gentle way the breeze swayed your hair, it was an almost imperceptible movement but it highlighted how beautiful you were. He knew why you were calling him by his full name, his behavior couldn't be more obvious, but those words echoed in his mind.

»Who says?«

He slid along the bench to get closer to you as he watched you set things on the table. He wrapped his hand around your waist, and although you smiled in that way that was like oxygen to him, it wasn't enough for him. So, taking you by the hips, he forced you to stand up.

— C'mon, let's eat, baby — you said giggling, and he sat you on that old wooden table while he returned to the bench.

He looked up at you with his blue eyes, and seeing you from that perspective that made you look majestic. he rejected the idea of letting anyone else be the person who hugged you or who was close enough to smell your sweet scent. The idea of someone else other than him being able to kiss your lips, which were so perfect and soft, drove him crazy, he couldn't handle it.

»Who says?«

With that thought, he started searching in your bag that was lying next to you, you never stopped him, but you wondered about that change in attitude because he seemed a little rougher and severe, his eyes were even a little darker, but you couldn't deny that he looked handsome, that you even liked it.

When Jason found what he wanted, he stood up supporting only his right knee on the bench as support and he enjoyed the way that velvet skirt rose, leaving your thighs in his view. Before leaning towards them, he searched your eyes for any kind of disapproval because for him, the most important thing was how you felt, and not finding anything like that, gave him enough confidence to continue.

He felt your muscles tense and tried to undo it by caressing your leg, but failing that, his lips kissed a bit above your knee, which made you swallow saliva, what the hell was he trying to do and why now? Jason was never too public, any major display of affection was always in a more intimate place. When he straightened up, in his hand you finally saw what he had taken from your bag: your eyeliner.

Dazed, you reached out to try to take it, but he quickly caught his hand with yours on the table and before you could do the same with the other, he placed the open eyeliner between his lips and trapped your other hand in the same way.

He raised his gaze above his glasses and slowly shook his head, sending a silent warning before leaning towards you again, exactly on your upper thigh. You felt the moisture of the pen on your skin and with a given precision, you started to see that he was writing, but it wasn't until he finished that you could barely read it. The air left your lungs when you deciphered it and you didn't understand how after doing that, he had sat back down with the same serene smile as always, his hands spreading the tablecloth for you to eat while he hummed a familiar song.

Had you missed something? It was definitely something new in him to behave openly in that way, but you didn't dislike it. After all, what it said there wasn't a lie.

— Do you have any objections? — His demanding question didn't match the sweet tone in which he had said it, and you got off the table to put both hands on his shoulders.

— No, sir — you confirmed with the same tone and kissed the line of his jaw before taking a seat beside him.

Jason continued to arrange things, he seemed peculiarly focused, so you took the opportunity to discreetly look down once more, but your skirt had covered the word. Slowly with your hand, you lifted the fabric until it was visible again:

"Mine"

You felt a warmth spread through your body and crossed your legs on purpose to make it visible. That action drew a smile on your boyfriend's face, and not long after, he kissed you. No, it wasn't a lie, but as you was his, he was yours.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧ #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #pjo #percy jackson #jason grace fic #jason grace headcanons #jason grace #jason grace fluff #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace x reader #jason grace smut #jason grace fanfic #hoo x you #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus

[xspeter]

𖦹 part of the “dancing with out hands tied” collection. main masterlist

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇... Luke discovers the three times he denied his feelings for you, and the one time he accepted them.

W.C: 5K

Incident One: The Nurses Station

Luke knows that you’re annoyed with him, it was written all over your face. You wouldn’t say it aloud, of course not, you were too sweet, but you had no concept of a poker face.

He thought it was cute, the way your eyebrows knitted and your shoulders tensed. The way you avoided looking at him because you knew he could see right through you.

You suck in your bottom lip as you waltz over to him with a pack of bandages and alcohol. You sit on the stool in front of him, knocking his knees open with your own so you can roll yourself between them, the wheels screeching a little as you do.

You stare at him with an intensity Luke has only ever seen from you once, and it’s when he was in an all too familiar situation with Lance Tenning.

The situations were all too eerily similar- both involving something being said about you. It didn’t matter if it was to your face or behind your back, Luke just couldn’t tolerate it. He couldn’t listen to your name get thrown around in the mud because you rejected the Ares child, not when you were so sweet and kind.

So, of course when Luke heard Lance whisper to his dimwit friends about how, “That bitch just can’t stop slutting herself out for Castellan,” he had to intervene.

And it’s not Luke’s fault that Lance got all defensive, and it’s not Luke’s fault that Lance pushed him, and it definitely wasn’t Luke’s fault when Lance ended up on the ground with a fresh black eye.

Luke can’t help but grin as the sight of Lance writhing beneath him replays in his mind, and you glare up at him with that knowing look in your eye. “I don’t know what you have to be smiling about right now.” You spit.

Luke furrows his brows, allowing you to inspect his bloody knuckles, before he grins and uses his free hand to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m here with you, why wouldn’t I be smiling?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head. “Right, of course.”

“It’s true!”

You don’t say anything, just beginning to clean his knuckles. The sting is so familiar to Luke that he barely even reacts, just placing his other hand behind him and leaning back.

It’s weird, because Luke knows you’re mad at him. But you still handle him with so much care, so much gentleness- as if he’s fragile and the slightest movement could shatter him to pieces. It’s sweet, and just another example of how much you care.

He doesn’t know what he did to deserve a friend like you.

Luke can see you itching to ask him something, from the way you keep glancing up at him and the constant gnawing on your lip. And Luke knows you won’t ask- not be your own volition, anyway. You didn’t like confrontation, in fact, you made it a point to stay as far away from it as possible, so unless Luke said something, you never would.

“What’re you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?”

Luke notices the way your breath hitches at the word pretty, but he doesn’t think anything of it. You’d always been particularly sensitive to compliments, not just the ones from him. You let out a brisk sigh, finally able to let out the question you’d been holding in.

“Why did you do it, Luke? Again? After I already told you to just leave it alone?” Your voice waivers slightly, and he can see the obvious distress in your eyes. It made him almost… regretful. He never wanted to be the reason you felt anything other than happy, but he knew you wouldn’t understand it. You were so quick to let people walk all over you- let them treat you like shit and then say it was all fine and dandy.

Luke couldn't do that, though. He’d honestly rather die than watch you break yourself for people who didn’t give two-shits about you.

His lips thin, and he watches as you avert your gaze from his face and back to his hand, beginning to wrap a brown bandage around it.

“You didn’t hear what he said about you, Sweetheart. I couldn’t just listen to those awful things and pretend it wasn’t happening!” He sucks in a breath, waiting for your response.

You tense slightly, eyes darting between his face and his hand. “I never asked you to do that. I can handle myself-”

Luke snorts, interrupting you abruptly, “Can you? Because the last time this happened, you were going to let him get away with it. And that time he’d said it straight to your face!”

You finish tying his bandage swiftly, immediately dropping his hand and practically sprinting as far away from him as you can get.

You run the bridge of your nose, “Because I don’t want to start any problems! Lance isn’t just going to stop because you hit him a couple times, so there’s no point to it!” You scoff out a laugh, running a hand through your hair. “I mean, why do you care so much anyway?”

Luke goes silent at that. You were his best friend, of course he cared, but…

Why does this feel different? He wouldn’t beat someone for any of his other friends. Hell, he’s not sure he would do that for anyone. So why did he do it for you?

The answer is on the tip of his tongue, itching to be said and confessed, but he just can’t figure out what it is, and it’s driving him mad.

“‘Cause you’re my best friend!” He says it with a wince, like the words are foreign and wrong. And you flinch back at the phrase too. It makes him nauseous.

He watches as you swallow, hard. Eyelashes fluttering as you blink back the glossiness forming in your eyes. “I know that.” You mumble, “I’m just so sick of watching you hurt yourself and other people for me. I’m not worth getting kicked out of camp.”

Luke’s heart breaks a little bit when you say that, because he couldn’t believe you would even think that. To him, you were worth everything. Getting kicked out of camp, getting exiled by the gods, fuck- you were worth the world. All you had to do was say the word and Luke would be on his knees in front of you, praising the altar that you so graciously allowed him to admire.

He risked taking a step towards you, and he let out a small, relieved sigh when you didn't take a step away. “Do you seriously think that?”

Your eyes trailed his body, all the way from his lower stomach to his eyes, and Luke couldn’t help but shiver as they did. He closed the distance between you until you were nearly chest to chest, your breathing slowed and eyes wide. You were so goddamn beautiful, it was almost painful.

“Do you really think… I wouldn’t betray the fucking Gods if you asked me to? That I wouldn’t do anything for you?” His voice was low and husky, fingers grazing your arm and trailing up to your cheekbone. “I would rather I got kicked out of camp before I let some piece of shit like Lance Tenning speak a single word about you.”

You were nearly speechless, unable to move as the space between you got smaller and smaller. “Luke..” You whispered. And Luke felt it, that familiar twist in his gut, the one he couldn’t name.

And just as he was about to understand it- to accept it- some little kid ran into the room, crying about a cut they got on their hand. You didn’t even spare Luke a second glance as you rushed over to them and whispered sweet nothings in their ear, crouching down and kissing their hand better.

But, even as he excused himself and began the walk back to his own cabin, the strange feeling never really did leave him.

Incident Two: The Lake

Percy Jackson is the most oblivious person Luke has ever met.

It was seriously obvious to anyone with eyes that Annabeth was in love with him, especially after their quest last year. Her lingering touches, smiles a bit too wide, eyes glued to him anytime they were within ten feet of each other. It was completely obvious.

Even now, as Annabeth and Percy chase each other in the lake, hair sticking to their skin and water dribbling from their eyelashes, Annabeth's crush is noticeable in the way she looks at him.

Luke thinks it’s cute, honestly. He wants his little sister to find someone that loves her just as much as she loves them, and Percy Jackson was definitely that guy. He just needed to stop being an idiot and realize it.

“Hey, Luke?”

Luke’s ears perk up at the sound of you behind him, and he looks away from the two teens and towards you.

You and your light pink one-piece swimsuit. You and the little bow in your hair, watching intently as you tug it loose and let your hair cascade down your shoulders. You and your perfect lips and nose and-

“Can you help me tie this, please?”

You turn your back to him, and Luke swallows hard once he realizes your swimsuit is open back, which allows him to see the curve of your spine and the pretty freckles and moles that dot your skin like stars.

He watches as you struggle to tie the bathing suit strings around your neck, fingers moving around with zero coordination.

So, despite the obvious burning in his cheeks and the unexplainable feelings that brew in his stomach, he says: “Um, yeah. ‘Course I can.”

His breathing slowed as you whispered a quiet thanks, allowing Luke to softly brush your hair over your shoulder and take the strings from your fingers.

He tied it effectively, probably taking much longer than he should have, but he couldn’t help it. Not when you were so close and he could smell your perfume- strawberries and vanilla. It was honestly the most intoxicating thing he’d ever smelled.

He tightened the bow around your neck, touch lingering on your back as his hands ghosted over your skin. He sucked in a breath, watching as his fingers trailed to your shoulders, as if they weren’t his own. And maybe they weren’t.

Slowly, he placed a small kiss on your shoulder, relishing in the way your breathing hitched and your spine shuddered.

And then there was that feeling again, the one he doesn’t quite understand. The one he just can’t place his finger on.

You turn around as Luke’s plush lips leave your shoulder, eyes a bit wide and lips parted, like there’s a question you’re dying to ask but you don’t allow yourself to.

You giggle nervously, glancing at Luke’s pink cheeks and tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear, the way you always do when you’re nervous. “I, uh, thanks. For tying it! Not for… anything else. Obviously.” You ramble.

Luke just nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was no problem. I mean, what else are friends for?”

He pretends he doesn’t notice the way your eyebrows furrow and your shoulders deflate a bit at the word friends. Because, that's what you were, right? That’s all you were. Luke couldn’t understand why you’d ever be disappointed because of it.

You blink a couple times, doing your best to hide the way your voice shakes. “Yeah. Friends.”

Luke grins, happy that you’re both on the same page, and gently taps your arm. “Good. Look, I have to go make sure nobody drowns, but I'll see you later, alright?”

You nod, waving him off with a small mhm. But, even as Luke walks away and the smile returns to your face as you greet one of your sisters, the disappointment that lingers in your eyes doesn’t leave his head.

Why would you be dissapointed? And… why did he feel the same?

Incident three: The Bondfire

Luke wasn’t one to get jealous. He had no reason to be, he was perfectly content with where he was in his friendships and he didn’t have any girl he was involved with.

So why did the sight of you giggling with an Aphrodite boy make his blood boil?

The boy, Carter Rhodes, was notorious around camp for dating around. Almost every girl had a story with him, and Luke had thought you knew that, so why were you talking to him?

He watches as Carter leans into you, his lips inches away from your ear. You throw your head back and laugh. Actually laugh. Not the fake giggle you usually give people, no. It’s the laugh you give Luke when he visits you in the nurses station. Or when you spend the night with him. Or even when you’re just with him!

It's his laugh. So why were you letting Carter fucking Rhodes hear it?

“Uh, Luke, are you okay?”

Luke’s head whips to Percy, who’s giving him a disturbed look. It’s then that he notices he was gripping his plastic cup so hard, it had crushed in on the sides.

Luke swallows, blinking a few times to try and clear his mind, but the image of you and Carter doesn’t leave. “Uh,” He sniffles, eyes darting between you and Percy, “I’m all good.”

Percy nods, a sarcastic uh-huh falling from his lips. His blue eyes trail to you, and a smirk creeps onto his face.

Sure, Percy was oblivious when it came to his own love life, but yours and Luke’s? He was basically an expert.

Percy takes a seat on the log next to Luke, watching as the brunette boy struggles to keep his eyes on the ground and not on you. It’s amusing, honestly, the fact that Luke thinks he’s anything but obvious with his feelings for you.

“I get it, man. It’s hard watching the girl you like flirt with other dudes.”

At first, Percy’s comment doesn’t register in his brain and he agrees that, yes, it is hard watching the girl you like flirt with other dudes. And then he think real hard.. the girl you like..

“What? I don’t like her! I mean, I do like her as a friend but, I don’t like like her.”

Percy watches with amusement as Lukes cheeks turn a shade of pink and he trips over his words, practically shaking as he tries to shut down the accusation. The blonde sighs, shaking his head with a tut. “Oh, Luke. Sweet, innocent, Luke.” He claps a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it obnoxiously. “You are absolutely whipped.”

Luke scoffs and shrugs Percy off of him, shooting him a glare. “Right, like you’re any better. I see the heart eyes you and Annie give each other. But, me and Y/N aren’t like that! We’re just- just friends.”

The word feels like poison on his tongue, practically burning as he forces it out. It was true, you’re his friend! So why did he hate saying it?

He thinks back to that odd feeling he gets in his stomach when he’s with you, wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to Percy’s words.

But he immediately shoots the idea down. Even if Luke did see you as anything other than a friend, you’d never feel the same. You’d seen Luke at the lowest point in his life, right after his quest. You’d seen him angry, you’d seen him cry. How could you ever love someone so… unloveable?

Percy goes a deep shade of red, eyes widening as he immediately deflects. “Annabeth and I are not like you and Y/N! I don’t even- even like her. Gods, gross..” He pretends to gag, but Luke sees the way the blondes eyes immediately trail to where Annabeth sits talking to her siblings.

Luke lets out a chuckle, standing and ignoring the pop in his knees. He claps Percy on the back, “Keep telling yourself that, Lover Boy.” And swiftly finds his way over to you.

It’s ridiculous, yes. Luke knows that, but he wasn’t doing this out of jealousy. No, it’s because he’s worried- just like he usually is. He can’t help it! You’re just so naive and trusting, someone’s gotta be there to make sure you don’t get hurt!

Carter spots him first, and Luke pretends the immediate frown that falls onto his face as he does doesn’t make him proud. Like Carter knows that as soon as you see him, whatever bullshit he was trying to do with you would immediately be discarded.

Luke walks up right behind you, placing both hands on your shoulders and rubbing them just the way you like it. “Hey, Sweetheart.”

Your neck cranes as you look up at him, a wide, toothy smile on your lips. “Luke! Where’ve you been?”

He shrugs, sitting on the log next to you and continuing his massage on your shoulders. His thumbs move to rub circles into your back, on the places he knows you get tense the most, and you let out a low moan of approval, eyes falling shut. “‘missed you.” You breathe.

Luke chuckles, watching as Carter pretends to not be as angry as he really is. “Sorry, baby. Had to give lessons to some of the younger kids today.”

He doesn’t miss the way goosebumps rise into your skin despite the warm fire, or the way your spine goes completely rigid at the nickname. A proud smirk spreads onto his face as he finished his work with a chaste kiss to you shoulder, making sure to let it linger for longer than he normally would.

When he comes up, he pretends to finally notice Carter, putting on his best shocked face. “Oh! Carter, my bad, I didn’t see you. How’ve you been?”

Carter gives him a mean mug, jaw rippling as he nods. “Sure you didn’t, Castellan.”

You look at Luke with confusion, and then back to Carter, obviously being able to sense the thick tension between them. “Carter, what’s wrong?”

Carter blinks a few times, before his face relaxes and the sultry smooth smirk returns. “Nothin’ babe,” He places a gentle hand onto your thigh, thumb tracing small circles into it. “Just can’t believe how pretty you look.”

Luke doesn’t miss the wink Carter throws his way, or the way your cheeks flush as you giggle nervously. It was nearly unbelievable the audacity Carter had! To touch you right in front of him- to make you blush and giggle like a schoolgirl in love?

Luke sighs, leaning close and whispering in your ear. “Let’s go back to my cabin, yeah?” Immediately turn to him, and Luke knows he’s won. Honestly, did Carter ever even have a chance? It was almost cruel to let him think he had.

You swallow, eyes trailing Luke as he stands and offers a hand to you, a casual grin on his face. You say a quick goodbye to Carter without even sparing him a glance, and take Luke’s hand.

You let him lead you away, but Luke looks over his shoulder and smirks at Carter’s look of disbelief. He sends him a wink just as he did earlier, and then turns back to you.

You're looking at the ground in front of you, lips parted as you glance towards him. Your hands stay connected the whole way back to his cabin, but no words are exchanged between you.

He's not surprised to find the cabin empty, instead he relishes in it. The Hermes Cabin had so many residents, moments of solitude in it were hard to come by. So when they did, he always made sure to enjoy them as much as he could.

He drops your hand as soon as the door closes behind the two of you, plopping onto his bed with a sigh. He watches as you wrap your arms around yourself, maintaining a large distance between the two of you which he finds strange.

Normally, you always join him on his bed, allowing him to play with your fingers or hair and having deep conversations that he always enjoys. But, no, tonight you’re looking at him like there’s a question you want to ask, like it’s practically burning in your throat and you need to spit it out, but you don’t. You let it burn, gnawing on your lower lip.

His eyebrows furrow and he stands, walking towards you. You don’t move back, but you don’t look at him either. Not until his hands are on your upper arms, holding you in place gently. He tilts his head slightly, “What’s the matter?”

You suck in a breath, finally looking up at him through your lashes, and then your gaze finds the floor again, as if it hurts to look at him for more than a second. You stumble a bit as you talk, “Is there a reason you were being so weird back there? I mean, you’re never… never really that touchy when we’re with other people.”

Luke thinks back, remembering how he’d rubbed your back and shoulders, called you baby, kissed your skin… and he realizes that you’re right. The most he ever does in public is give you a quick kiss anywhere but your lips before he leaves you, and that’s that.

He doesn’t call you pet names, doesn’t touch you. So why did he do it now? His mouth goes dry, but he makes sure to keep his cool and calm exterior, dropping his hands from your skin, and shrugging nonchalantly. “Uh, no, not really. I just missed you.”

You snort, and squeeze your arms tighter around yourself. Finally, you look up at him, and Luke can’t help the way he basks in it. Your look, no matter if it’s angry or happy or sad, leaves butterflies in his stomach that he can’t explain.

“So, that’s all? You just missed me?”

He nods, “That's pretty much it.”

He doesn’t miss the hurt that flashes in your eyes. You never were good at hiding your emotions, no matter how hard you tried. It’s something he lov- liked about you. Something he liked.

Your arms fall to your sides, nostrils flaring a bit as you scoff. “Really? It’s not because you were- were jealous that I was finally talking to someone who might like me?”

Luke couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. Did you really think Carter wanted to be with you for anything outside of another two week fling? “Please,” He sighs, “You had to know Carter was just flirting with you to have sex with you!”

You stare at him with wide eyes, jaw hanging open as tears well in your lash line. He doesn’t understand it- why were you being like this right now? Couldn’t you see he was just looking out for you like he normally did?

“What if I wanted that too, huh? What if I wanted to stop waiting around like an idiot for someone who will never see me as anything more than a friend!”

There’s that word again, but this time it’s like a punch to the gut. It’s like bitter poison falling from your mouth, like the wrath of the Gods had finally caught up to him. It hurts more than he’d like to admit.

He risks taking a step closer to you, but you take one back, maintaining distance between you. “What are you talking about, Y/N?”

The question hangs in the air like smoke, filling up his lungs and leaving him unable to breathe. Because deep down- he thinks he knows. Deep down, the answer shines like a light in the middle of the darkness, begging to be seen. But he doesn’t want to see it yet- can’t let himself see it yet. He doesn’t deserve to.

Your head turns to the side, arms crossing over your chest once more. “Nothing. I have to go.” You murmur, beginning to walk away from him, but in a desperate attempt to get you to stay he snags your wrist.

You tug at him, something you rarely ever do, and it leaves him nearly speechless. Still, he persists, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

You freeze, but Luke doesn’t miss the way your voice waivers as you whisper, “If you can’t tell, then I won't be the one to tell you.”

With that you break from his hold, slamming the door shut behind you and leaving him completely alone. Now, that solitude he’d reveled in feels like snow creeping into his skin, encasing him in an endless chill.

Incident Four: The Apollo Cabin

Luke knows that you know it’s him knocking on your window. None of your siblings, with the exception of maybe one, have people sneaking in at late hours of the night.

He also knows that you’re not asleep. There’s no way- not after what was said between the two of you barely two hours ago. That's why he continues his knocks, coming up with new combinations, partially out of boredom and partially to annoy you enough to force you to open it.

And it works, he watches with a shit-eating grin as the window rolls open and you glare at him. “What?” You growl, glancing behind you to make sure none of your siblings woke up. “What do you want?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, gesturing for you to move back as he makes the familiar crawl through your window. He lands softly, so familiar with the environment that he knows where to step so he makes the least noise. “Couldn’t go to sleep knowing you were mad at me.” He mumbles.

You deadpan at him, a hand on your hip as you shake your head. “I’m not mad. Will you go back to your own cabin now?”

He shakes his head, eyes lingering on your messy hair and bare face. You never wore a lot of makeup, there was no point when the sun would melt it right off, but seeing you like this- unfiltered and completely real, he’s not sure you’ve ever looked more beautiful.

“You’re mad, Y/N. I know you are.” He sighs, and you swallow, wrapping your arms around yourself and looking to the side. “No, I'm not.”

He likes your stubbornness. Likes the way your lips pucker out slightly and your skin prickles with goosebumps when a breeze slips through the open window. He likes everything about the way you look at him, even when you’re angry.

“Yes, you are. And you have every reason to be. I was.. being selfish. I shouldn’t have dragged you away from Carter because I was mad you were talking to someone outside of me. It wasn’t fair.”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes shine a little, biting on your lower lip in thought. “Luke-” You start, but he doesn’t let you finish. “You’re allowed to do what you want. And.. if you want to have sex with Carter then, you know, you can do that.”

You chuckle, shaking your head with a sniff, “I don’t want to have sex with Carter.”

He can’t help the relief that floods his veins as you say this, letting out a small groan of approval. “Oh, thank the Gods. You are way too good for that douchebag.”

You grin, stepping closer to him. Luke inhales as your familiar scent fills his nostrils, and it smells like home. Like something he was always meant to know.

“Yeah, wherever. Will you stay here with me tonight?” You ask, though Luke knows you already know his answer. Still, he amuses you, nodding dumbly and allowing you to lead him into your bed.

You settle under the covers, which smell like you, and he feels your limbs tangle together and your head find his chest, like a lock and key molding together in the form it was always made to be.

Your body is warm, warmer than his anyway, and your skin is so soft. Years of handling medicine has done you justice, a huge contrast to the roughness of his own, years of training has left him battered and scarred.

Still, you trace lines into the skin of his stomach, ear flat against his chest giving you full access to the beat of his heart.

“Luke?” You murmur, and he hums, running a hand through your hair, gently brushing out the knots. “Yeah, Sweetheart?”

You’re silent for a moment, before finally you softly say, “It’ll be us forever, right? No matter what happens?”

Luke is almost shocked how fast the word yes fills his thoughts. He hasn’t ever thought about what would come after camp, after you both left and your lives changed and you grew up.

Would you be there for that? Would you want to be there for that? He hopes your answer is yes.

“Forever.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head and pulling you tighter against him, “I promise.”

You sigh happily, closing your eyes and drifting to sleep. It’s then that Luke realizes what that feeling in his stomach is. The one he can never name, the one that begs to roll off of his tongue like hot acid.

Because , while Luke knew he himself was unloveable, with his trauma and scars, did that mean he was unable to love? Did he even deserve to feel that?

He's not sure, but right now, with you laying on his chest like it’s just the two of you in the whole world, he thinks he accidently let it happen.

He fell in love with you without ever even knowing it, and he’s not sure he ever wants to stop.

taglist: @apolloscastellan @ddarling-ddearest-ddead

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell #fanfic #fluff #three times one time format #dancing with our hands tied #idiots in love #pining

[marivoid]

Entry 34

Day 228

Since the Angel won't be in for a few days, I decided that I would find a "Nook in the Wall" so to speak. Small shops that are hidden to the normal eye and one has to go out of their way to find it. Something that the people back in my G.U.I.D.E. used to speak so much about.

I was hoping to find one of these mysterious hidden shops.

And find it I did. Well. Actually, my growling stomach did.

As I sit here writing this update from a very comfy seat in a small bakery, I have a few things to update. One, apparently there are people that are not mortal. Two... Brian is a surprisingly good lookout.

When I first got here, I was greeted by a cozy little bakery. I hadn't seen a bakery since... Well, not important to today. As I made my way along, just enjoying myself and the sight of the bakery, a woman shouted at me over a tiny, head sized square in the wooden wall.

"Be right out there, Love! My pin's being downright awful at the moment!"

And by pin... She meant a rolling pin with one of its handles broken clean off.

But I will not lie. When I saw this woman... Something about her threw me off. At a brief glance, this woman looks kind! Like an absolute sweetheart of a woman, working her bum off every day for her bakery. But... Goodness, it's something I can't explain. Her eyes seem to be too perfect, her face too symmetrical when staring at her head on, her ears are so long and pointy... And the massive wings on her back.

Apparently people can have REAL wings. The Crashlands get even more interesting every day. And of course, she wasn't complete without an odd mechanical crow clinging to her shoulder.

"What can I get for you? Got some scones, a few donuts if you got an itchen for something sweet! Or something salty? I got scavengers in a tarp if you want some of those!" Her voice was heavily accented with a dialect from a VERY old ago. (I think Australian? I can't remember, those text books were aged ago. And I think scavengers in a tarp are like pigs in a blanket, but... I didn't ask to find out.)

"I guess just a scone would do? Something small and... I think..." I kept getting distracted by that haunting blue eye. "Your crow seems... Friendly." (I did not think he was friendly. At all.)

"What do you mean?" Her head had whipped around to glare at the robotic Crow, shooting him a look of some kind. (I think I was still dealing with the fact that this woman's whole head could turn on a DIME!) "Ohhh! Brian! He ain't nothing but all beak, no talons." She had assured me her head flipped right back around to look at him. "Now, back to what you were ordering?"

"A scone would be nice and if you have it, coffee? I haven't had a cup in forever." (It had been nearly a year at the time of me writing this. Coffee is not easy to come by!)

"Alright, love. Go ahead and take a seat, I'll call for you when you're ready. Could I get your name for the order?"

I nearly gave it to her. It seemed so simple. Just to give a little name. But there was that odd feeling again. Something just didn't feel right. Like there was a second meaning behind those brown eyes of hers.

"Just 67 works. You know how names are in the Crashlands! Never give em if you don't ever see em again!"

Her eyes lingered on me a bit too long but she did eventually nod and get to work gathering the items. I ducked away to a table after a few customers stumbled on through and waited for a bit. It was just nice to sit down for once and enjoy the smell of baked goods and not need to worry about acid rain or Stranglers trying to get me.

However... That peace did not last long.

That mechanical crow came straight over to me. Piercing blue eyes constantly staring at me.

"... Hello, Brian. Um... Pretty bird wants a cookie? No, crows can't eat cookies can they? Uhm... Don't know about scones. Maybe? You are a robot."

A robotic caw. Small, scratchy, definitely not right. Like a broken voice box.

"Well... That is no good. Voice box going a little haywire? Hold on a minute." I'm still ever so grateful I'm a collector of most things that are considered "junk." Because what did I happen to find in my bag?

Three different voice boxes, ranging in sizes. And one just so happened to be very small.

"Aha. I knew I had something." I am not lying when I write this, I swear I'm not. But he just hopped over to the voice box and SWALLOWED IT. No undoing the metal plates, no double checking to make sure it fits. Just gulped it down like a tasty summer treat.

"Brian, you can choke on that I will have you know-"

Another caw. Much louder. Much clearer. And Brian himself seemed to be a lot happier if those happy jumps were anything to judge by.

"Glad you're happy, Brian." By that time my order of scones had been called out by the odd women. Just as I was about to make a move for my order, Brian jumped up and (I swear) perched on my shoulder. Just made himself right at home.

"I do hope you know I'm not sharing my scones. Or coffee. If they have some dirty oil we'll get it for you."

Another caw and a tiny peck to the temple.

"Alright, alright! Clean oil. Hot?"

Another peck.

"Cold it is." And from there I managed to get my food and my first cup of coffee in a LONG time. I actually was able to enjoy my little moment for about an hour (Yes, I did give in and let Brian steal a couple of crumbs of scones) before that odd woman came to sit in front of me.

"You know Brian doesn't like anyone, yeah? Doesn't even like me, love! Never perched on anyone but that old stick behind the counter. All he does is go up to people, caw, and fly straight back."

"And nobody helped him before? All the little fella needed was a voice box change." And that got a whole coo from Brian. A happy one.

"Is that really it? A voice box?" Her eyes met Brian's. "Oh you little turd, here I was thinking you were sick! Been taking care of you for a while now! You've been living in birdy retirement this whole time!"

"Birdy retirement? He's been retired?" Who would possibly retire a mechanical crow?

The woman rested her chin on hand. "A couple years ago, a man walked in with Brian. Said that he didn't want the poor bird to hurt anyone. Haven't seen him since. He's had that scratchy voice this entire time, so I thought it was untreatable! It didn't help that Brian is a sassy little thing that hates mechanics!"

An angry caw this time. "I... Don't think you were supposed to take him to a mechanic. Isn't there maybe a vet around? Or maybe somebody who specializes in bots?"

"Unfortunately not, no. None that I know of." The woman and I spoke for a few more minutes, asking one another questions. But the bell eventually went off and more customers poured in.

"Welp, love, I best take care of them. How about you take Brian around, yeah? Old bird has been cooped up in here for a while and should get to see more of the Crashlands!"

I had choked on my coffee at that point. "I-I'm sorry?"

"Bring him around." She waved her hand easily. "Show him the Crashlands. I can't, I got a store to run! And my ring only goes so far! But you can go in and out as you wish. I think that's only fair, hmm?"

"Your... Ring? What exactly is a ring?"

"Nothin' you should worry yourself over. Take all the time you need, Hun. But bring Brian along. He's a good companion to have. And you won't be lonely once you leave the city!" And with that, she had turned right around and walked off to tend to her customers.

As of writing in this now, it's about two in the afternoon. Brian is still on my shoulder and has refused to leave this entire time. He's coming with me whether I like it or not!

I guess he's not all that bad. And he's good for getting a higher look at the sky!

When I left the bakery, I only then noticed the sign.

"Stress' Sweets and Salties."

Guess that woman did have a name.

I still have time to kill. Still two more days. IF that poster is accurate.

I just really need to find the Angel.

I need to find the Doctor.

-MLW and Brian

-The Crashlands.

#hermitblr #hermitcraft #the crash #void art #hermitaday #original art #mcyt fanart #stressmonster101 #stressmonster fanart #martyn itlw #martyn inthelittlewood #brian the crow

[ducktracy]

proper reupload in the high quality this fantastic segment so deserves; eagle pig and duck bias notwithstanding, this will forever be my favorite variant of the fabled switcheroo (and a reminder that Daffy was first at his own game!) the committal on behalf of both characters--especially the sincerity of Daffy's feigned sincerity--really sets it apart

#that delivery of “don't you believe i'm a fish?” sounds so hurt and it's perfect #likewise i think there are few one-liners/toppers that make me laugh as much as 'i told ya i was a pig' #and that all knowing glance at the audience from Daffy doesn't feel obnoxiously smarmy or self aware #there's a friendly nonchalance to it. a very clear amusement and not in a way that undermines anything this segment is setting out to achie #again. my favorite buzzword: that sincerity! a sincere investment and amusement in watching Porky obliviously and endearingly make an ass #out of himself #and of course the cross dissolve and setup of the composition implying a story/sequence of events taking place within that time... #this short isn't my favorite P+D short--i still LOVE IT A TON but there are so many i revere--but i think it's one of the most definitive #if someone was looking to get a good understanding on their character dynamic this would be one of my immediate recommendations #i haven't had the bandwidth to spread my pig and duck gospel but please #watch Porky and Daffy cartoons #tangential but i've always loved the sound effect Treg Brown uses for Porky dropping the gun #good exaggeration/whimsy while also connoting Porky's stubbornness and that this stupid petty argument is enough for him to lose sight of #his motives and discard his murder weapon. all because of this joyously stupid argument. so i like the self awareness there with how obtuse #the sound effects are #because anyone who is not Porky Pig would have just shot him point blank #and that is everything i love about their dynamic and how Daffy's intoxicating charisma and ability to get people invested even affects the #very characters on screen #gee d'you think i ought to have said more about this scene #lt #duck soup to nuts #freleng #vid

[ratwithhands]

Got dragged around a lot today so I couldn't quite finish this on time ;/ Anyways Emmet in his little goofy suit. Mildly formal, mildly circus, just thought it'd be fun :) Hope you guys like it and goodnight

#submas #subwaymasteremmet #emmetpokemon #kudari #monthofemmet #pokemon #pokemonfanart #I'd like to think this is his “deceptively formal” outfit #like at first glance you could definitely wear this to some event but you look at it for too long and it feels like a costume #idk might just be me #also it's like the most minor pointless detail but for sketches like these Emmet's coast and pants are just sliiiightly grey #feel like it makes him a little easier to look at than straight white #anyways this was supposed to be a proper old fashioned conductor's uniform but uh I started colouring #I don't usually work with the red version of their designs (I prefer the brown personally) but I think it worked better for this #the pinstripes also made it more interesting #maybe I'll draw him in this again sometime :)

[pigdemonart]

bro we need to los brujos more popular or some shit cause Victor could fucking eat as a tumblr sexyman an fr

This message shakes me to my very core since I received it, and I still dont know how to respond to this.

Here are a few víctor doodles.

#los brujos #my first thought sincerely was My man is too brown to be a sexyman sorry HHDHDCHCNDND #but hes also not that weird looking…enough? idk the criteria definitely changes now and again #but maybe if he was a little bit more of a freak creachure i would own up to the nomination LMFAOOOO #victor

[bilesbianblog]

for some reason my brain keeps wanting to read the blog name as biles-bian blog as if this is a blog for folks exclusively attracted to Simone Biles and I thought maybe it would be fun to share

(From November 27, 2023)

To be fair... have you SEEN Simone Biles?

You should see Simone Biles. You should look at her.

#not gimmick #ask #juno speaks #i have so many thoughts and feelings about simone biles and other black female athletes #and the horrifically intense expectations of body type and gender performance in gymnastics and ballet and just sports in general #like if you’re a female athlete you have be thin and pale and delicate and feminine and nonthreatening #and if you look like simone biles with her brown skin and broad shoulders and muscle definition people get pissed the fuck off #and she’s not even fat or butch #doesn’t matter if you doll yourself up like marilyn fucking monroe‚ someone’ll always be fuming about you ‘destroying womanhood’ #but i’m not gonna write that whole essay unless and until i do some research for it. so. #just know that simone biles and other athletes like her mean so much to me #and if i ever dance again i’ll owe it to them

[gammija]

i keep constructing elaborate political speeches in my mind. as if somehow if i could just talk to pvv-voters compellingly enough, explain to all of em why this is moronic on every level, they'd all suddenly find out that they're actually leftists at heart who just heard a few facts wrong

#as if the racism is an accident instead of the driving force #i spent too long looking at twitter replies and there are a lot of people who voted for wilders so obviously a lot of different types too #theres the naive ones who genuinely seem to regard politics as kind of a game thats being played to the sidelines #you cheer for your team but it doesn't ACTUALLY have an effect on reality. So stop complaining! cheer up! #theres the dumb ones who 'just wanted something different' and who thought 'well the Left screwed things up' #- weve had a centrist/right government for over a decade - #'so lets try the right ¯\_(ツ)_/¯' #and then theres just the unapologetically islamophobic who DEFINITELY are NOT racist~ #they júst want all brown people to go back to 'their own' country #and if you call thát racist! well then! you are protecting the fundamental rights of muslims right to religion so obviously you also suppor #extremist governments in the middle east! and those are also discriminatory! which somehow makes the pvv nót discriminatory even though #they're drawing a direct comparison between themselves and these extremist governments! so there! #... anyways #very very very minor point but this also once again strengthens my resolve to not reblog or dive into every terrible news story from #usamerican politics despite how guilt-trippy posts about them get; #cause the only people on tumblr ive seen reblog aaanything at all about these results are dutch themselves #ik its not like we have a similar influence to the entire usa at all. but neither does random kentucky county elected official number 9 and #i still hear about them all the time #it makes sense for the circles im in dont get me wrong. just annoying. #joos yaps #delete later

[lilamala]

RACECAR - Estratosfera feat. Six Sex

#six sex #estratofera #qiri #six sex is so cunty i love the brown lipliner #also estratosfera seems promising i will be tuning in on her debut ep for sure #love the 'i hate men ' stick n poke on her thigh lol u can see it in the first screencap #she's doing a song with taichu??? im looking forward to that definitely #also WHEN will six sex and taichu collaborate i KNOW it would be good #anyway. once again. holding a gun to my followers heads u WILL listen to six sex

[cqcophobiq]

imagine…the colors Hobie flushes in bed

reds and pinks. bright warm outlines. poetry and erotica dancing across his skin

#I feel goofy I usually have a separate blog for this #anyway…this has been in my head for hours #he changes color any other time so he’s definitely change it here #it looks pretty and gets more saturated and chaotic the more stimulated he becomes #okay I am done this is all you get from me #I’ll have to utilize my old hc blog again for anything else #do not come at me about some dumb discourse I will block you #hobie brown #astv #spider punk #spiderverse

[weekend-conspiracy-theorist]

A needlessly self-indulgent Tim and Steph role swap AU. Sort of.

"There's definitely something hinky going on here," Barbara told Jason. She was down in the cave for the night rather than across town in her Clocktower; Alfred had requested her presence for dinner earlier that night. He'd requested Jason's, too, and having Barb around to sweeten the pot had almost tempted him. There had been genuine regret in his voice when he declined.

Her red hair wasn't bright under the lights near the Batcomputer, not exactly, but it was vibrant, and the screens flashed over her glasses in an intimidating show of blankness. What the rest of them needed kevlar and voice modulators to achieve, Oracle needed only sheer presence. Jason fucking loved her.

"Told you," he grunted. His helmet was tucked under his arm, domino already tossed aside for the night. He stepped up next to her, dropping a hand to squeeze her shoulder briefly, and he could feel the smug satisfaction rolling off of her as she deliberately didn't glance over towards Bruce, who was hunched over grappling gun repairs at the main table and trying very hard to pretend he wasn't jealous of their easy comaradarie.

Up on the screen in front of them were two pictures--the young, pale face of the private-investigator-in-training who'd been bugging the shit out of the Red Hood for the last few nights, hounding him about help on a case, and the neutrally attractive, mid-fifties PI who was supposedly responsible for the kid. Newspaper clippings, police files, birth certificates, and a copy of both the PI's investigator's license and the intern's training contract surrounded the pictures.

"The kid's barely old enough to be out of high school," Jason said, darkly. "I dunno what the fuck this guy is thinking letting him run around unsupervised."

Unsupervised, and with a fucking attitude. The kid clearly didn't have a very high opinion of the Red Hood, despite his uncompromising assertions that whatever he was working on was going to require his assistance, and still, somehow, he couldn't seem to catch the hint that Jason wasn't interested.

(Actually, that wasn't quite true. Jason knew the kid had caught the hint. He just didn't seem inclined to let the hint stop him, and he was both annoyingly sneaky and frighteningly good at guessing where Jason was going to pop up each night. It was fucking annoying.)

Barbara hummed neutrally, rather pointedly not saying anything about the number of teenagers they'd had running solo around the Gotham underworld over the years, and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's just the tip of the iceberg," she informed him, and she sounded much more interested now than she had when Jason had initially asked her to dig up information on the PI firm.

She flicked quickly through several police reports, her green eyes sharp as she studied them. "First of all, the kid seems to be pretty much the only one doing any real leg work for Red Bird Investigators. Draper's the one who handles digital communications with the police, and he's handled the press whenever their cases get enough attention to require it, but every time Red Bird shows up in an actual police report, it always seems to be Drake that they've run into."

Barbara paused rather than compete with the roar of a motorcycle as Batgirl came racing into the cave after her patrol, and she dropped a hand to the wheel of her chair so she could turn slightly, fixing a critical eye on her protegé.

Stephanie was rolling her eyes even as she pushed back the cowl. "Not a scratch on me," she yelled, hand cupped around her mouth, and flatly ignored the disapproving look that Bruce shot her. She'd been even more of an independent operator than either of the Robins that had proceeded her, and Jason knew it rankled for Bruce that she submitted so much more willingly to Barb's authority than his own.

"Just some nasty bruises then," Barbara said sardonically, voice pitched only a little louder than normal. The cave was quiet enough that that was all it took; Stephanie definitely heard her, but all she did was grin. It involved a lot of teeth.

Jason liked Stephanie, a lot. It was easier with her than it was with Dick or Bruce or even Barb, without any baggage between them from his previous life--despite the fact that there was plenty of baggage from this one. Luckily, Stephanie seemed to have decided against holding a grudge over his murder attempt at about the same moment as she'd fought through broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder to bash his face in with one of the steel chairs in the Titans' dining room.

They'd both laid there panting for a moment, Jason's vision swimming with the nastiest concussion he'd ever received, and called something of a truce. It was the last time he'd made the mistake of thinking Stephanie Brown was any less of a threat just because she'd lost a grip on her bo staff.

Jason shot her a lazy, two-fingered wave, and Stephanie fluttered her fingers back as she headed for the lockers. She was wasting no time, halfway to the door and already shedding her armor to reveal a sweat-soaked white tank top and a Green Arrow sports bra.

Bruce looked even more sour than he had a minute ago. Stephanie's reflection in the locker room door, just before she yanked it open, was bright with mischief.

Jason shook his head, trying not to look as amused as he felt, and turned back to the screen. "Okay, so Draper's... what? Riding his intern's coattails? Seems like a risky gamble to put a private investigation firm in the hands of a twelve year old."

"Drake's twenty," Barbara informed him.

"No fucking way," Jason said, flatly. Twelve was a joke, obviously, but--

"His identity, I can confirm," Barbara said, a delicate stress on the first word, and Jason's attention sharpened. So did Bruce's, over in Jason's periphery. Jason could tell by the sudden tension in his shoulders, even if his hands didn't falter as they fiddled with the retraction mechanism of the grappling gun.

"Mind your own business, old man," Jason shot over his shoulder, and Bruce just grunted.

Barbara turned fully back to the Batcomputer, and her long fingers flew across the keyboard as she pulled up a bunch of seemingly unimportant bits of paperwork. "Whoever put Draper's identity together did a good job. They covered their bases--school records, hospital records, employment records, even a social media presence, and all of it pretty convincingly done."

"Unless you're Oracle," Jason said.

Barb's lips twitched. "Unless you're me," she agreed. "Draper's identity would pass muster for most every legal entity that went poking around, but there's some small evidence of it all being faked."

"Is Red Bird some kind of front?" Jason asked, frowning. His eyes flicked over all of the records Barbara had pulled up, more for the sake of having something to do as his mind churned than out of the expectation of spotting something in just a few seconds that Barbara hadn't already seen. "Money laundering, maybe a blackmail operation?"

"I'm not sure yet," Barbara admitted. "Their hourly rates as a firm are shockingly low; it's pulling a lot of attention from your end of the city, attracting the kinds of clients who can't usually afford to hire a private investigator, and they seem to be doing good work. Tracking down missing kids, recovering stolen items, turning evidence over to the cops-- notably only to reputable ones-- when they turn up anything especially nasty or organized." She rolled her eyes. "Not to mention catching plenty of cheating husbands. But that can pretty much all be attributed to Drake; whatever else his boss may be caught up in, I'm confident he's not aware of it.

"I haven't done a deep dive yet. Right now," Barb said, as Batgirl reemerged from the locker room in a pair of sweats, chugging a bottle of water as she took the stairs two at a time up to the platform where Jason and Barbara were talking, "all I can tell you with certainty is that Alvin Draper isn't who he says he is."

Stephanie choked on her water, the bottle crashing to the floor as she spluttered and pounded on her own chest. "Did you just say Alvin Draper?" she managed to grind out, those dark blue eyes of hers wide with surprise, and Jason snapped around to look at her.

So did Barbara and Bruce.

"You know him?" Jason asked sharply.

Stephanie was staring up at the screen, her eyes darting over the information Barbara had pulled up, and then she made a strangled noise. For a second, Jason thought she was choking again--

Except then she was laughing so hard that she had to drop to a crouch, one hand on the railing to keep herself from tipping over completely when her foot slipped in the puddle of water still leaking from her bottle.

"Oh my god," she wheezed. "This is--Oh my god. I can't believe him--"

"Stephanie, if you wouldn't mind sharing the joke, please," Barbara said, a warning note in her voice, and Stephanie hiccuped, wiping tears off of her face.

"Yeah," she managed after a moment, pulling herself to her feet and breaking off in another choked off laugh. "Yeah, you could say I'm a little familiar with--yeah." She snickered, swiping at her cheeks again. "Uh, so, Tim Drake's the annoying creep who's been bothering you the last couple of nights, huh?" she asked Jason. Her voice sounded like Christmas, Hanukkah, and her birthday had all come at once.

"You know Drake, too?" Barbara asked. Her expression was flinty. "You never mentioned anything about working with any PIs."

Stephanie subsumed another giggling fit, talking more to herself than to them. "I should've fucking--oh my god, I should've known it was him as soon as Jason said he was a bit of a stalker." She took a deep breath, managing to get her voice more or less back to normal, and gestured dismissively at Babs. "I've mentioned him, just not by name. A lot falls under the category of 'trusted contacts.'" She wiped her eyes again, calming down even further. "Red Bird isn't some kind of criminal front," she promised. "And Alvin Draper is just-- well, okay, Tim is--"

She seemed suddenly cagey, her chin turning as if to glance over her shoulder at Bruce before she aborted the motion. "Okay," she said, and it was that casual, placating tone of voice that all of the Robins had perfected at one time or another. The "Really, Batsy, it's not that big of a deal" voice. Jason had never actually heard her use it before--by the time he'd reentered the scene, Stephanie wasn't the least bit shy about flaunting her disregard for Bruce's opinions.

"Okay, if I hadn't been caught so off guard I totally would not have handled this conversation this way," Stephanie told Barbara. "If I'm going to be honest, I did not intend to ever have this conversation. Tim would have given me away at my theoretical future wedding without a single one of you having any idea how we even knew each other. He'd probably have done it wearing a stupid wig and calling himself Maurice."

Barbara raised an eyebrow. Bruce was no longer pretending to be focused on anything else, a frown line etched firmly across his forehead.

Jason had no idea where this was going.

"Absolutely no chance you can just take my word for it and drop your suspicions about Red Bird?" Stephanie asked hopefully.

"Not in the fucking slightest," Jason told her.

Stephanie pressed her palms together and leaned her fingers against her lips for a moment, thinking, and then she dropped them, still far too casual to actually be casual. "I should set the stage for a second, because none of what I'm about to say is going to make sense if I just dive into it," she admitted, hands on her hips. "Jason, you know what what everyone-- what Bruce, specifically-- says about my reputation as Robin, right?"

"Ferocious," Jason said immediately. "Clever. Scrappy. Compassionate."

A smile twitched at the corners of Stephanie's eyes, but she told him, dryly, "Actually, the word I was thinking of was 'insubordinate.'"

Barbara rubbed at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, suddenly looking exhausted. Bruce, in the background, looked vaguely like he wanted to argue, but didn't actually have much of an argument to make.

"I mean, I've always been the master of back talk to the B-man," Stephanie said, and her expression-- her tone-- was somewhere between pride and guilt. "And I frequently ignored any and all instructions to keep my nose out of certain cases, unless I was given really, really thorough and convincing reasons why I should leave them alone. So yeah, my time as Robin was characterized by a lot of flaunting the rules."

She took a breath. "But the thing is that even with all of that," she said delicately, "Bruce does not actually know even a third of what I got up to as Robin."

Bruce finally spoke up. "I know more than you think I do," he said, with just a hint of amusement in his tone. "You found a lot of counsel in Barbara, thinking it was behind my back. She handled plenty of mishaps for you, but she certainly didn't keep as many of your secrets as you might have hoped. I didn't mind, since you were confiding in someone."

"Sorry, kid," Barb said.

"Yeah," Stephanie said impatiently, "I know Babs was ratting on me. I knew it then, too. Which is why I leaned on the fact that you all saw me as just a little bit silly when it came to boys, and I fed Oracle a number of thrillingly believable lies about sneaking around on patrol to make out with Boyfriend, without ever mentioning that Boyfriend was also a detective savant with a corkboard conspiracy map of the city and a freakazoid obsession with stalking mobsters and crime lords with his insanely expensive long distance night vision camera."

Jason blinked.

Bruce said, "What."

Stephanie shrugged. "I mean, we did also do a lot of making out, it was just usually on top of a rooftop across the street from some dudes whose noses I was about to break. Which, before you say anything about endangering civilians, I did all the muscle work; I never let Boyfriend anywhere near the fighting, even though he's been taking a bunch of martial arts lessons since middle school.

"And," she added sharply, cutting off Bruce's response, "before you say anything about endangering myself, I'd like you to remember that it's only been two weeks since the Ex-Robins Union collectively negotiated for amnesty regarding cases that occured during our days in the pixie boots, and if you break the terms of the contract in under a month then the Extreme Penalty Subclause is activated and Dick, Jay, and I get to decide on our response. Suggestions have included an official Titans Gotham team and the Outlaws getting open season on the Joker."

Stephanie and Jason high-fived as Bruce's mouth slowly shut.

"I told you that signing that contract without reading it was a bad idea," Barbara sighed. "Dick was being way too nonchalant about the whole thing."

Stephanie turned back to Jason and Barbara and waved a hand at the Batcomputer. "This is relevant because Tim Drake is Boyfriend, if this room full of detectives hadn't already made that leap," she told them. "Alvin Draper's one of his favorite aliases. He did not tell me about this because he knows how much fun I am going to make of him, but I know how that batshit little brain of his works, and that guy--" She jerked her chin at the alleged picture of Alvin Draper-- "is definitely an actor Boyfriend hired to pretend to be his boss. Hacking the New Jersey PI database and issuing himself a license is easy enough, but convincing anyone he's actually old enough to be in possession of it is literally impossible with that baby face of his." Stephanie mimed squinching his cheeks together.

"Which, for the record, fucking classic Boyfriend move, right here," she added, grinning. "He once hired a fake uncle to be his legal guardian when his parents died and he was too young for the judge to consider emancipating him."

Jason had no idea what was going on in Bruce or Barb's brains because they both appeared to be blue screening a bit, but all he could think was that it was official: Stephanie was hands down Jason's favorite Bat.

"You hid a whole ass vigilante from Batman for like six years," he said wonderingly.

Stephanie snorted. "Not a vigilante," she corrected dryly. "Boyfriend has no interest in dressing up in tights or kicking people's teeth in; he just likes detective work and hates cops. He mostly just does a lot of sitting on rooftops taking surveillance photos." She obviously couldn't resist adding, smugly, "But yeah, more or less. Cass couldn't even kiss Superboy without Bruce knowing about it, meanwhile I practically had Boyfriend hidden under my cape on every solo stakeout for a year straight, and no one ever noticed." She tapped a finger on the side of her nose, raising her eyebrows. "No small part of why I've refused to ever live in the Manor or the Clocktower."

"This is the first and only time I will ever acknowledge that the people who call you the greatest Robin have even a single leg to stand on," Jason told her.

She gave him a nod, lips twitching.

"That's probably why Boyfriend's being such a little bitch about working with you, by the way." Stephanie leaned back against the railing and crossed her arms over her chest. Her scars stood out, stark, over the bulge of her biceps. "You used to be his favorite Robin, but then you came back from the dead and tried to kill his ex. He took it pretty personal." She made scare quotes, rolling her eyes and pitching her voice up an octave mockingly. "'It's my responsibility to hold a grudge since you have no intentions of doing it yourself, Stephanie.'"

She shook her head, her tone suddenly serious as she added, "I couldn't begin to guess his motivations in trying to drag you of all people into one of his cases, but it's gotta be something important. I'd hear him out next time he approaches you."

"You trust him? Trust his judgement?" Jason knew she did, she'd pretty much just admitted that Drake was aware of her identity, but it still seemed prudent to ask.

"As implicitly as I trust Cass," Stephanie told him immediately.

High praise, Jason knew, but he could tell it wasn't all she had to say on the matter.

Stephanie was very still for a moment, her gaze flicking to meet Bruce's in the reflection of the metallic plating at the edge of the Batcomputer, and then she met Jason's once more. Her voice was quiet but steady as she told him, "You weren't here for it, but I know you know the gist of what happened during War Games, and that I've always been vague about how I got away from Black Mask. Nobody ever pushed because they thought it was just the trauma fogging my memory, and yeah, that's part of it, but keeping Boyfriend safe from the fallout was the other part. I didn't somehow manage to break myself out after Mask left me for dead; Tim tracked me down. He got me to Leslie."

Barbara sucked in a breath, sharp, through her nose. A muscle ticked in Stephanie's jaw. And Jason had never before seen that expression on Bruce's face when the subject of conversation had nothing to do with an explosion in Ethiopia.

Jason whistled, low and slow.

"So, yeah," Stephanie managed, a little stiff. "I trust him. He's an obsessive, scheming little weirdo as I'm sure you noticed, Jay, but it's all part of the charm. He's a brilliant detective, and he cares so much about everything. We've always make a good team; he's good at seeing the whole picture, I'm good at seeing the people in it." She grinned, wicked. "Plus, he taught me how to skateboard."

Barbara snorted at that, then immediately looked annoyed at herself, but Stephanie was already fist-pumping.

"I'm not gonna lie, despite my years long efforts to keep all of this a secret, I'm excited to finally talk about Boyfriend as something other than the abstract concept of my best friend who none of you except Cass were completely certain existed," she said cheerfully.

"Cassandra knew about this?" Bruce asked.

Jason was pretty certain that the threat of invoking the ERU contract was the only reason the Bat was managing to stay so calm. Collective bargaining worked, people.

"I have never successfully kept a secret from Cass in my life," Stephanie said, ruefully. "I'm fucked when she takes over Batman."

"And everyday of interacting with you pushes Bruce closer to that retirement," Barbara told her dryly. "I'm still processing this, Stephanie, so I'm not going to get on your case tonight, but you know that your union will not protect you from me. We will be having a conversation about what other secrets you've been keeping."

"Considering that your vigilante career began and ended entirely outside of--well, anyone's supervision, not sure you have a leg here, Barb," Jason pointed out.

"There's a reason I'm your protegé now," Stephanie said cheerfully, as her voice cracked on a yawn. "Anyway, I need to scoot. I can text you Tim's number if you want it, Jay."

"Yeah," Jason sighed. "Sure. I guess I'm probably never getting rid of him if even your annoying personality hasn't managed to drive him off sometime in the last six years."

Stephanie flipped him off, rolling her eyes, but she was laughing under breath as she leaned down to pick up her water bottle. "Oh," she said, far too casual once more, as she found some papertowels to use to dry up the puddle. "There is one more thing I should probably tell you guys about Tim."

"He's a vampire," Jason guessed, just as casual. He kept her in his periphery, sensing immediately that this was something that the Ex-Robins Union contract was not going to cover.

"Nope." She bundled up the dripping paper towels and walked over to toss them in the trash. The movement took her closer to the stairs up to the Manor.

Neither Bruce nor Babs had apparently gotten any better at recognizing the signs of a shifty Robin than they had been before the revelations of the last ten minutes, so it's up to Jason to abruptly dart between her and the stairs, cutting off her escape route.

"What do we need to know about Tim, Replacement?" he asked, pleasantly, as he loomed over her. Batgirl was a bad ass, undoubtedly, but Jason had three inches and at least fifty pounds of muscle on her. Plus, he was still in his body armor.

"Ah," Stephanie said, clapping her hands together, and Bruce finally seemed to clue in to the fact that he was really not going to like the next words that came out of her mouth.

"What did you do?" he asked flatly.

"I did not do anything," Stephanie fired back immediately. "It was Dick, actually, and the thing he did was a quadruple somersault that only three people in the world can do, or whatever. Notably," she said, thumb and forefinger pinched together as she took a step forward, away from Jason and away from the stairs, "Dick Grayson, of the Flying Graysons, can do that somersault. And, my, what did a nine-year-old Timothy Jackson Drake see on the news one morning, except Robin the Boy Wonder doing that exact same somersault."

"You're fucking kidding," Barbara said.

"Yeah," Steph said. "Tim knows the secret identities of literally every single vigilante in Gotham, even the ones not connected to us. It's a hobby of his."

And then she pivoted, the space she'd gained from that step forward giving her enough room to dive under Jason's arm and come up sprinting as she took the stairs three at a time.

now continued

#tim drake #stephanie brown #I wrote this #I think that was my tag? whatever #this is pretty much just wildly self-indulgent musings about what it might look like #if Steph became Robin III and Tim therefore had no motivation to join the batfamily #and I thought this would be the funniest way to explain it #also ft. the truly hilarious concept of an ex-robins union #also war games definitely didn't go down exactly as it did in the comics but I'm i no mood to hash out details #I would be down to write more in this universe but also I have no interest in writing casefic so I will probably never touch it again #I just had this scene in my head and needed to get it out