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comradekatara · 3 months

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i don’t want to watch natla but i appreciate very much you posting about “zuko’s little faggot diary” that shit made me crack up laughing ty

that’s just canon to me. he’s a boy who loves to monologue. of course he keeps a diary. how else is he gonna keep track of his special interests. where else is he gonna write down his angsty poetry. you know he spent months tracking aang down taking detailed notes on his garb, his fighting style, his flight patterns, and not once ever bothered taking note of his name, even though he easily could’ve learned it from the million times katara screamed it over the course of their fights.

which, if you’ll allow me to go on a tangent, is another thing that bothers me. when ppl are like “zuko learned their names because they all say one another’s names constantly.” and you think that means he actively made an effort to REMEMBER it????? you must be out of your damn gourd if you think that the most one-track minded human being in the history of the universe is paying attention to anything that doesn’t directly interest him in that very moment. but i digress.

i just KNOW that zuko was soo mad that he lost his diary after his ship got blown up by zhao because years of precious poetry and avatar lore, burned to cinders by that PHILISTINE!!!! and then as a refugee in the earth kingdom, he languishes, diaryless, because he’s too embarrassed to actually spend what little money they have on something so extraneous. and then once back in the fire nation he obviously can’t keep a diary because azula will do everything in her power to read it (he learned that the hard way as a child). but then, finally, once he flees to the western air temple, he can actually keep a diary again, now that he is surrounded by nice, normal people who don’t actually care enough about him to snoop through his belongings.

or so he thinks.

now, aang, being a respectful young lad, would never share his findings with the rest of the group, especially since none of them have actually warmed up to him yet. but that doesn’t prevent him from reading everything zuko has ever written in that diary. and of course, he doesn’t tell zuko, because he has the tact and savvy to know that if he alerts zuko to his snooping, then he will simply hide his diary better, or even worse, stop writing in it altogether. and zuko can’t stop writing!! for he has a poet’s soul!!!

also, zuko has somehow gathered a lot of information on sokka that aang himself did not know, despite being friends with him for nearly a year now (like the fact that he dated the moon??? or the fact that his mother was killed by the fire nation??? although that one he really should’ve figured out on his own. considering that he and katara are siblings, and thus logically would share a mother). and so aang really needs zuko to keep updating his SOKKA LORE notebook because he feels kind of guilty that he knew basically nothing about his friend and yet zuko, the least observant person he has ever met, is somehow an expert in sokkology (although aang is deeply offended on katara’s behalf that he simply refers to her as “sokka’s sister” or sometimes “the angry one”).

for the record, aang never actually puts together WHY zuko is so fascinated by sokka. he’s just like “of course he’d be intrigued by sokka. he has a very complex mind, what an adventure to attempt to fathom the depths of his psyche.” like he just assumes that zuko is using sokka as a case study for completely innocuous reasons. he also assumes that zuko, like any teenage boy with eyes, is infatuated with katara. not at first, obviously, because to zuko she is still “girl sister, long hair” but eventually. once they reconcile, and become friends. and then his diary makes a sharp turn from carefully documenting any and all sokka lore to “katara said this really funny thing today” “katara is so nice and pretty” “katara is such a good waterbender” and suddenly aang is NOT having fun anymore!!!! halt the presses!!!!!

so aang just kind of sulks to himself for a while because it’s not like he can TELL anyone about his NEW ROMANTIC RIVAL in the BID FOR KATARA’S AFFECTIONS, but he does try to vaguely intimate to sokka and toph that it bothers him. and toph’s just like “what?? you mean all those times she hooked up with haru at the western air temple???” and aang’s just like. “HARU??????!!?!!??!?!?”

anyway. zuko isn’t a complete idiot, so after a few good years of being friends with aang, he finally catches onto the fact that aang has been keeping up with his diary every time he visits the palace, after like, the fourth or fifth time that aang accidentally lets a piece of information slip that he only could’ve known via reading zuko’s diary. so zuko decides to mess with him, and starts keeping a fake diary in the place he used to keep his real diary (columbus style) and writing shit in it like, “aang’s recent experimentations with facial hair are so embarrassing. just because you’re finally old enough to grow a weak little mustache doesn’t mean that you, under any circumstances, SHOULD. i bet katara is throwing up puking every day just having to kiss his horrendous furry mouth.” or, “katara said that she thinks roku was not only hotter, but also a way better avatar than aang, and personally, i agree. if he was still the avatar today no one would ever go hungry and we would have total world peace.” or, “aang is way too comfortable going shirtless. if i had that scrawny lanky body i would cover that shit up with a big ol sweater every day.” or, “aang said something really mean the other day and it hurt my feelings and i cried alone in my room for 3 hours. aang is literally a bully????”

and aang can’t even SAY anything because zuko is allowed to say whatever he wants about his friends in the privacy of his own journal, but also he decides that if zuko truly hates him so much, then he will simply stop visiting the fire nation so frequently, out of respect to his friend. at which point zuko realizes that he may have gone too far, so the next time aang visits him, he puts his real diary in his drawer with an entry that reads, “i can’t believe aang keeps falling for my fake diary prank. he doesn’t even know that im messing with him. and he never will, because my system is flawless, and i’ll never ever lose track of which diary is the real one and which one is the fake.”

at which point aang runs headfirst into a meeting between fire lord zuko and his senior council and is just like “ZUKO!!!!!!!!!!! YOU IDIOT!!!!!!!!!!!!” and tackles him in a hug with no regard for propriety. he nearly gives zuko a concussion from the force of his hug. but dammit if it isn’t worth it.

#boyfriendgideon #asks #all of this is canon btw.#zuko #aang #aang&zuko #katara&zuko #aang&katara #sokkaxzuko #also yeah. don’t watch natla. truly NOT worth it in the slightest . u made a good call there

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yeetus-feetus · 1 month

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Duke is a much smaller Duke one day, he's lost all his memories beyond the young age he is now and he's scared and confused.

He doesn't know where is. But then there's Tim, his Robin! And suddenly everything is ok.

The bats have no idea what's going on, but Duke refuses to go to anyone but Tim. He's also a little ball of energy bouncing off all the walls, and Tim is SO tired. "Robin- Tim, come play tag with me!"

One night Tim ends up passing out at his desk, a sleeping Duke cuddling into him on his lap.

Except when Duke wakes up Tim is small too.

And he doesn't remember who Duke is!!

So Duke reintroduces himself and Tim let's himself be dragged downstairs to the actually Batcave!

Bruce is looking at them in absolute astonishment, they're so small!!

Damian laughs at Tim's smallness and Tim gives a cold glare. Maybe age can't change some things.

"where are Nightwing and the new Robin?" Tim asks.

"I'm Robin."

"no, I meant Jason!" Tim huffs and crosses his arms. Ah, he's so young he still believes Jay is Robin.

Duke is still clinging to him, but Tim can't bring himself to mind all too much.

Bruce doesn't know how to handle these boys, between a hyperactive Duke and an absolute menace Tim.

Dick tries to help, but even he can't keep up with the mischief and shenanigans they get up to together.

"dick pick us up!"

"yeah! Pick us up pick us up! And swing us around until we get dizzy!"

"again!"

It's time to bring out the big guns, and by that they mean calling Jason over to the manor.

Tim settles immediately, but Duke remains overly weary around the large man with guns strapped to his thighs. He's kinda scary.

But Tim likes Jason well enough. At some point he ends up cuddled up with Jason who's stretched out on the couch, and Duke is just a little bit jealous.

"hey stop hogging him! Tim is mine," Duke pouts.

Jason raises an eyebrow at the boy, and Tim tilts his head. "You know there's enough room for both of us up here, right? Jason is a lot bigger than he used to be."

Duke considers this. "Mm okay, but only because you're up there". And he climbs up into Jason's lap to cuddle into Tim's side.

It's calm for a moment, until Duke starts to fidget, not able to stay still for too long. Jason let's put an annoyed noise and looks at them over the top of his book. "Would you quit it I'm tryna read here".

"what are you reading?" Duke asks.

"Macbeth."

Tim scrunched his nose up. "Why are you reading that?"

"I like it. Reminds me of school", and Tim catches something in his tone that Duke absolutely doesn't.

"it sounds silly. Will you red it to us?"

Jason looks at the both of them for a very long moment before signing. "Sure, but you've gotta stay still, your knees are already in my ribs."

The three of them all end up falling asleep like that, tucked into the lounge and curled up together.

Except when they wake up in the morning, Jason is scrawny little boy, even smaller than Tim and Duke.

Tim explains what he can to the tiny Jason as Duke sneaks some snacks from the kitchen cupboard for them.

Cass catches them stuffing their faces with junk food and squeals. "Three baby brother's now!" And scoops them all up as the quick and try to squirm away.

"gotta tell B"

"wait who are you exactly?" Jason asks.

"big sister", Cass smiles and pets his curls.

"no way! Really? That's so cool, I've never had a big sister before", he exclaims.

Cass carries all three of them down to the Batcave because she's so strong and awesome! And Jason can't believe he ends up with such a cool sister.

"Batman!!!" Jason shouts in pure excitement, and Bruce turns around and almost cries.

Because look how small!! Oh baby Jay lad!! So precious and smol!

"I think the de-aging syndrome may be contagious", Tim speaks up. "You should have us all properly quarantined until you can find a cure."

quarantine is fun, for Jason and Tim at least (tiny Tim is plotting revenge on whoever caused this, Jason is reading and occasionally shouting at the characters). Duke can't stand having to stay still in the same one room for so long.

idk where this is going, but consider this awesome 3am idea of mine

#duke thomas #tim drake #jason todd #de aging #deaged au #de aged duke #de aged tim #de aged jason

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evilminji · 2 months

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*Distant sound of frantic running growing closer*

*I throw open the door with manic eyes, breathing heavily*

Hatsume Mei! The Fenton's! Oh DEAR LORD. The Couple, the Doctors Fenton... would think she's A Lovely Young Lady ™! Normal even! Charming! I bet the Hatsume Adults would find to be a Charming And Upstanding Young Lad!

JAPAN ISNT READY.

If the GIW got out of hand? And Amity, as a town? Said "fuck ya'll we taken our ball and going home"? All they'd NEED to do? Is shut down the portal, get the skilled portal makers stationed at side A of town to open it up, rip the whole thing up, have the mover ghosts push it IN, aaaaaand? Everyone in? Good! We close it from the inside!

Fuck those guys.

Okay, so, I'm Jerry. You're real estate officer, we got some GREAT options for you this season! How do feel about ninjas? No? Pirates? Not feeling it? Superheroes? Seeing some interest! We got a- *continues their pitch as Amity is moved*

Amity get phased into the Japanese countryside.

What do you MEAN "there wasn't a town here?" Of course there way! We have roads and everything! Why are we all Americans? What're you a cop? Mind your business, spandex man.

.....yeah, they're gonna call this one a "Quirk accident".

Pay your taxes, folks, and we promise not to care!

Fenton's? Back in business, baby! Well, never STOPPED being in business. But details! They're now a "support company"! And yes! The quotation marks ARE on all their documents AND signs! They think it's stupid!

But you want lazers?

Oh ho hoooo~ DO WE HAVE LAZERS!!!

Maddie n Jack start hitting the scene. Conventions. Conferences. Fancy parties. Weirdly? They "unnerve" people. Cowards.

Until? Gasp? They meet just the LOVELIEST couple! Who are so FUN! Who ALSO has a daughter? Danny's age no less! Oh she is just PRECIOUS? Is that her first bomb? Aaaaaw~♡.

Danny feels a disturbance in the force.

Like... like his folks are... are about to try and introduce him to a Nice Young Girl again. The last time this happened was at mom's fighting competitions. She ended up being some sort of assassin royalty. Thankfully, she accepted he could commit to a life of murder, since he wanted to be an astronaut, but it was like this whole THING and- you know what? Not important!

Where are his parents!?

(Planning his wedding! Gotta incorporate BOTH the family's completely batshit Family Traditions!)

#dp x bnha #dp x mha #danny/mei #I'm calling them Terror Technologies #he's Technologies #or should it be Terror Space?#none the less?#be afraid #very very afraid #minji's writing

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 11 months

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Please write me a Billy W story - no particular premise, but I would like heart wrenching angst and disgusting smut. Something that will make me feel like I want to bite through my own forearm like I know only you can.

@ewanmitchellcrumbs <3 xoxo

You got it, baby~ Tried the heart-wrenching angst but didn't want to kill my precious boy, hope you like!

Lost Without You

Warnings: past trauma, swearing, angst, mentions of breakup, smut (p in v, oral m receiving, tiddy succin) | Word Count: 6k~

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Billy W Taglist

Billy hadn’t been in a car since Cranstead Fields.

Couldn’t and wouldn’t.

In the summer, with the incessant heat and dry air, it was totally fine. He would walk for hours and hours, mostly people watching and mulling over the events of that hot July where he had nearly fallen victim to his own overly trusting nature. Or perhaps he was naïve. It was difficult to tell the difference these days.

London flocked with tourists in the Summer, with the school holidays in full swing not long after. He'd happily disappear into the crowds, not wanting to be seen, and only observe. He'd watch families enjoy their time off in the blazing sun, even at Cranstead Fields, sometimes he'd walk past and see young lads playing footie right where his car had been. The grass now free of the tinged black tips from the fire, had turned a pale yellowish green with the harsh heat.

He thought it was wrong that he kept coming back. And he didn't know why he did.

People had fucking picnics there, absentmindedly sucking on ice lollies to keep cool, laughing and enjoying life.

Right where his had nearly ended.

He felt helpless. But he hated that he even felt that.

He remembered panicking so much in that driver's seat, so much so he'd nearly made himself sick. Shouting desperately for his sister to help him. Remembered her face through the window as she'd winced at what she'd seen inside the glovebox.

He barely remembered the extraction.

The in-between was blurry and he'd been sobbing so hard that only one thing could've brought him to his feet now that he was kneeling on the grass behind his car.

He'd nearly laughed as she pushed a policeman out the way, ignoring the orders for her to stay away. After all, there was still a live bomb inside the car. But she'd paid it no mind and had been kept away long enough. She ran across the cordon, her skin beneath the sundress she was wearing flushed with heat, exhaustion and outright terror. Her bare knees hit the grass with a thud, they'd be stained later, as she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a helpless hug.

If he wasn't so upset, he'd have worried about how covered in nervous sweat he was, how unbearably terrible he must have looked with his tear-streaked face. He'd never cried so much in front of her before. Even now as he snakes his arms around her waist, pulling her close, he'd buried his face in her neck so she wouldn't see. He could feel her breathing heavily, her heart beating fast, and how much she was trying not to cry at finally feeling him in her arms.

She settled for running her hands through his hair, damp from the heat and sweat, whispering his name as if to bring him crashing back into the reality where they were both here. He was safe.

She always made him feel safe. Wanted. It was a feeling Billy didn't know he needed before she came along.

But as usual.

He'd fucked it up.

After Cranstead, she did everything. All the cooking, cleaning, making sure he was taken to the police station to submit his statement. Sometimes it felt like she was more his secretary than a girlfriend.

At first, he appreciated her company, her willingness to commit herself to his wellbeing. And it wasn't like she wasn't selfless before, she'd always been good to him, but she'd really turned to the dial up to 10.

Some weeks in, it began to have the opposite effect. He felt like shit.

It felt like he was a kid again. And while, deep down, he wanted her help, he couldn't help but feel like she was pitying him. And he didn't need any more fucking pity. That's all anyone does. The further away the Cranstead Fields incident got, the more his parents returned to their previous conversations. Jobs. Commitments. When he and she would move in together. What he was going to do with his life.

As if it was just as simple as just forgetting it. As if the experience hadn't torn him apart.

She began to notice something was off a few weeks after the incident. He was recluse, giving one-word answers annoyed, spending most of his time smoking out the balcony doors of his flat instead of eating.

He couldn't bear to look at her. Didn't want to see that sinking look on her face. To come to the realisation that their relationship was failing and entering that murky, horrid form, where you know you should end it, but neither party wants to say it.

He thought, she had realised sooner than she wanted to admit. She loved him and wanted to be there for him, like any good girlfriend would be. She stood, watching him have his cigarette with his back to her, her overnight bag strung over her shoulder, wondering what she should say in response to what he'd just said.

"I don't need your help and I don't need you"

She opened her mouth a few times, willing something to come out. But she was too hurt to reply. She knew what that really meant.

She thought about writing a note. But instead, holding the hot tears back, she threw her bag in her car and sat in the driver's seat for a moment before gathering the strength to leave. Billy watched her car, a tiny little Volkswagen, pull away. And never come back.

With her, the families and tourists also left London, making way for the dull, wet humidity that Autumn came with. Even though they never moved in together, he felt the loss of her presence in his flat. Every time he came home, it slapped him in the face and if he felt shit before, when she was here, he felt even worse now for having broken up with her the way he did.

He hadn't even had the courage to really say it out loud. Nor to face her.

Billy did what he usually did, and accepted the feeling with open arms, dragging himself further down into a spiralling era of depression. Therapy did fuck all these days, he thought. Just paying someone else to take pity on you, which is the last thing he needed.

The flat slowly became a tip without him really even realising, packets of empty cigarettes piled up and all he did was go out every now and then for food and pop by the jobcentre. Not like there was much out there at the moment. Job seekers allowance would have to do for now.

Today was no different. With Autumn came shorter days and he'd barely realised, stuck in the jobcentre that it had become dark and mercilessly rainy. He pulled his hoodie over his head, stuck his hands in his pockets and went out into the pelting showers. It soaked through his clothes immediately, not dressed for such weather. Hair damp and sticking to his head and his jeans clinging uncomfortably to his legs with every step.

Pulling out his vibrating phone, he declined the call from Lana and shoved it back in his pocket. She'd been on his case like no other. Asking where his girlfriend was and how he'd let himself get like this. She was always the one to call him out, he hated it on one hand, but on the other it was nice to have it handed to him plainly sometimes.

Not today though, he thought.

The weather was unrelenting, rain pelted down so quick he could scarcely raise his head without it getting in his eyes.

He stepped off the curb to cross the road, without looking. A pair of headlights screeched to a halt.

"Jesus!" He pulled back onto the pavement again, face illuminated by the bright lights as he squinted.

He'd only realised what was going on when the driver's side opened. Her Volkswagen still had the lights on and the windscreen wipers were still quickly whirring.

She stood out the car slightly, her otherwise dry hair now gathering drops of rain, her jeans now a darkened blue the longer she stood there.

He felt his neck get hot, seeing her now after so long.

"Billy" were the only words that came from her lips,

"Fucks sake…" he turned a bit to walk away, not looking back even when he heard the car door slam shut.

"Billy!" She called after him, rain slapping on the concrete as she jogged up to him and pulled on his arm, "Billy, stop"

He pulled his arm away, looking down at her, "what!"

"I'm not letting you walk home in this. Get in" she said, voice elevated over the sound of the rain, which was running all over her face, down her neck, soaking her clothes right through.

"I didn't ask for your help"

"Would you stop being so fucking stubborn for one second?" She countered, clearly annoyed. They stared one another down for a moment, ignoring the ways their stomachs fluttered to see each other again.

"Come on, get in" she said, softer this time. Both of them now completely sodden.

He watched her get back in the car, torn at whether he should or not. He was still a good fifteen minute walk from his flat and already wet through, his shoes as well.

A short five minute drive in the car with his ex was a tough choice.

He opened the passenger door, eyeing the seat for a moment. He leaned forward, and opened the glovebox to find it empty (apart from her logbook and various other scraps), his heart going a million miles an hour. Eyes darted about the footwell, desperate to see if it was safe or not.

"It's alright, Billy…" she said softly from the driver's seat. In the low light of the car, he'd almost forgotten how pretty she was.

To both of them, it was clear that there was still love there. But neither wanted to be the first to say it. Or even acknowledge its existence.

He swallowed nervously and slumped into the passenger seat, suddenly feeling bad at how wet the seats must be. But it didn't seem like she minded. She just put the car in gear and drove the familiar five minutes to his flat in relative silence, apart from the quiet hum of the radio.

Of course the first time he's in a car in months, it's with her.

She pulled up to the curb, keeping the car running, as if she'd expected him to open the door and just run out, without saying anything. But Billy surprised himself, sat firmly in the passenger seat, he didn't move.

He didn't know what was happening to him. But for some reason, now that he had her back within reach, he didn't want to let her go.

He felt like a dick. For treating her as he did back then, and even tonight, when she'd offered him a lift, not expecting to even come in for a cuppa, he'd been cold and reclusive.

She turned off the ignition, looking over at him as he stared distantly into his lap, "You alright?" She asked carefully.

He wished he hadn't caved and looked at her, but he did. And his mouth went completely dry when he met her gaze. She made him feel so safe. So safe. Even now, when there was no real danger or chance of it, her mere presence seemed to calm that quick pounding of his heart.

"Do uh…you wanna come in?"

It came out more desperate than he'd intended. But he didn't regret saying it.

One of her hands noticeably gripped the steering wheel tighter, and he could see the internal battle she was fighting. Deciding whether or not it was a good idea.

She cleared her throat, unbuckling her seatbelt, "Sure, yeah…"

Billy winced remembering how messy the flat was when he'd left, and wondered what she'd think. He knew she was never the type to judge, but it embarrassed him all the same.

He felt his heart pitter patter in his chest at seeing her in his flat again, where she used to spend so much of her time. Where they'd nuzzle close on his tiny sofa, watching old 90s movies. Where she'd make him breakfast every Sunday morning, without fail. Where she'd come home after a bad day, seeking nothing but the comfort of being wrapped up in bed with him, stroking her hair.

"Tea? Coffee?" He asked, slipping into the kitchen. She followed, her hands wrapped around herself from the chill of being damp.

"Tea…thanks"

The loud, unrelenting hiss of the kettle filled the silence for a bit. Billy was trying to figure out what to say, keeping his hands busy fiddling with the teaspoon. He hated this. Hated that now they had to pretend to be strangers. As if they hadn’t spent the last few years devoted to each other. Spent night after night in his bedroom, basking in the fucked-out glow of the evening watching whatever was on late night telly ‘til either of them fell asleep.

Milk. No Sugar.

She suppressed the smile that he remembered how she liked it.

She nods her head whispering a thanks as he hands it to her, palm over the top of the steaming mug. It must hurt, she thinks. But he gives it to her this way so that she can put her fingers through the handle and not scald herself. At this small, tiny act of kindness on Billy’s part, she can’t help it, she does smile. A sad one. But a smile nonetheless.

His hallway that leads to the living room and bedroom is a bit cluttered, with his several pairs of Adidas shoes piled near the entrance, where he’d toed them off and never bothered to put them away. Billy brushes behind her to carry his own cuppa to the living room, the warmth in her tummy doesn’t go amiss either. He’s a lot taller than she is, one of the things she always shamelessly loved about him.

On the corkboard are several receipts, important looking bills as well as some letters from the NHS, easily spotted with the blue header.

“Still going to therapy then?” she asked, voice half-raised to reach him in the living room.

The therapy I organised, she thinks.

“Sometimes, yeah” he answers quietly.

The living room is a reflection of Billy. Messy, not put-together, various items strewn about the room like empty cans of beer and old letters he’d not bothered to throw away. It’s not necessarily a disgusting mess like old plates of food, more just items, but worry still gnaws inside her at how he is currently living.

She looks out the balcony doors, mostly to avoid looking right at him sat on the sofa, bouncing his leg anxiously and at the obvious way he is also trying not to be caught looking at her.

"How's your parents"

She looked at him only briefly, "Alright. Dad's retired now. Moved to Australia last month. I'm paying them rent til the mortgage runs out"

Billy's eyebrows raised in surprise. The thought of her in that house by herself was a sobering one and he thought she must be lonely there all alone.

She'd always come to his flat, for a sense of privacy and independence, but also to do the things they couldn't when she was in their house.

Those lazy weekend mornings, warm beneath the sheets with their bodies pressed together. Sleepily brushing the sheets from her bare skin to touch it, tracing all her feminine lines and curves. Her breath against his neck, hurried and needy. Fucking her into the mattress until the early afternoo-

"You're being quiet" she said, almost so quiet he didn't hear. Billy steeled his expression, to try and make it obvious he wasn't thinking about all the times he'd had her in that very bed. Like he didn't know all her sweet spots, the ones that made her breathe his name in a way that couldn't possibly be replicated. In a way that made his stomach lurch into his chest in flutters.

"I don't know what you want me to say" she was holding the mug in both hands, staring out the balcony windows, looking at her car outside, being hammered with rain.

Billy poked his cheek with his tongue, hands still clasped on his lap, thinking.

"Think it's me who owes you an explanation" he replied, voice low. Like he was a child in trouble. What he'd said made her look over at him, her face and hair still damp.

"I don't know" she put the mug down, turning to him, as if she didn't trust herself to hold it, "is it?"

He forced himself to look at her, hating the way she was trying to mask how troubled she was.

“Look, I know you’re upset-”

She scoffs, pulling her tears back, crossing her arms, “Understatement of the year”

“I don’t want a fucking fight right now”

“Neither do I. But I have a feeling your explanation will make one” she kept shifting her weight from foot to foot, nervous.

Billy sighed, “I just-I didn’t feel like myself. Realised you were too good for me, and that someday you’d realise it too” he explains quietly, hands clasped together, “Thought why not speed up the process”

“And you think you know what I want, do you?” she counters, her fingers digging slightly into her palm, trying to ignore the way her chest is getting tight.

“I just want you to be happy. Sometimes you can’t get that with someone dragging you down like I was doing”

She laughs, a short puff of air off her chest, hardly able to believe what’s coming out his mouth.

“I didn’t do all that I did for my fucking health, Billy. I did it because I loved you. And not once did I ever make you feel bad for it, for giving you space” she argues, catching her breath a moment, “I just-”

“It’s not about that” Billy says sharply,

“Isn’t it? You said you didn’t need my help, remember? Or is that just a Billy way of saying you don’t love me anymore?”

“I do love you” his expression could have fooled her. He looks exasperated and angry, frustrated.

“You have a funny way of showing it” she snaps, “I was just trying to help you”

She steps back a little when Billy stands up, his height shocking her for a moment as she has to crane her neck to see his face. His fists are clenched hard beside him, body quite literally shaking with the anger he’s trying so desperately to keep in.

"You were suffocating me!”

She scoffs, “Oh I’m sorry, I’ll refer to the handbook next time my boyfriend is trapped in a car with a bomb in the glovebox, shall I?”

If he hadn't been so upset, he'd have laughed. She was always funny. Unintentionally as well. Yet another thing he loved about her.

He must have shown a little bit of it on his face, because she shook her head, “Oh I’m funny now, am I?”

It didn’t shake the small smile from his face. Billy only swallowed over the lump in his throat, feeling uncomfortably hot against the still damp hoodie that was sticking to his chest. His eyes softened instantly and he couldn’t bear to look at her as he thought about what he might say.

“It just made me realise…I mean come on-I haven’t got a job, a future, my brain’s fucked…” he confessed quietly, “...I didn’t have anything but you and I can’t help but feel I drag you down-”

“Billy…”

“No-look at you, you’ve…got your life sorted out, a home…you deserve someone on your level, someone…that might not be me”

His heart lurches right into his throat, blue eyes brimmed with tears, when she steps forward to take his hands, almost outright sobbing at the feeling of her skin against his again. Her thumbs drawing soft and gentle circles on them.

“Don’t think like that, please..” she practically begged in such a soft, desperate tone, “I could never ever imagine my life without you and when I had to-I just couldn’t…love you too much to do that”

Billy feels his heart hurting. For months it had been so rarely used. And now to feel it so full of love just in the last hour he’d seen her, the stretch to accommodate it was painful. But the nice kind.

“I nearly lost you” she chokes out, “And I hated that I couldn’t do a single thing about it…”

He feels his mouth go dry. Thinking back, after the incident, she never did cry about anything. Rather, she pretended to be the rock, emotional walls built high, so that Billy could allow himself to let go.

He was so absorbed, perhaps rightly so, in his own situation. How he'd felt. That he hadn't stopped to think how broken she'd been by what happened, and all he could think about was that desperate hug she'd given him that day. How tightly she held him, her hands touching every piece of him she could to check it wasn’t some cruel dream.

She was hurting just as much as he was.

"I'm so fucking sorry, I-" he paused halfway, choking up and unable to form the rest of it once he saw her teary eyes.

He could've sobbed when she put her hand so gently to his face, her small thumbs wiping away the wetness on his cheeks. She gave a small watery laugh, her smile breaking through the sheer exhaustion of her heartbreak in her eyes.

"You're really fucking thick sometimes, you know that" she laughed softly.

And he couldn't help it, he let out somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Finally allowing himself to run his fingers through her hair, some strands drying and some still stuck together, forming waves in their wake. Another thing he loved about her.

"It's a Washington trait" he replied, his voice quiet and desperate. Both of them trying hard not to lose it again and cry.

"I know, '' she said with a genuine smile, her eyes lighting up in front of him again from the glow of a street lamp outside.

It wasn’t clear who moved first, but neither of them cared enough to think. If her hands on his face was a small slice of heaven, having her lips against him again was paradise. She just fit against him so perfectly as he wrapped his arms around her waist, desperate for the contact he had been denied in her absence. His hand dipping slightly beneath the hem of her shirt, feeling her tacky rain-soaked skin, almost groaning right against her mouth as he broke to take a breath. The hand that was at his face tugged him closer, deepening an ever-desperate kiss, like they had both been freed to desire each other.

His lips trailed from hers to her jaw, to her neck, inhaling her familiar scent, sighing at the perfume she would always wear. That hadn’t changed either. He left open-mouthed kisses against the tender skin there, trailing down the slope of her neck to her collarbones, hot and quick pants of his breath coming in huffs against it.

Her hand tightened on his shirt, “Billy…”

She’d hate it if she could see the boyish smirk on his face. At him knowing how much she wanted him, needed him. How hot her body got when they were near each other and how that familiar pool of arousal settled between her legs at the idea of this intimacy.

He pulls her to him by her waist, tugging her to straddle his lap as he lands on his sofa, resisting the urge to rut against her as he feels her clothed core rub against him. She can feel how hard he is, how hard he has been since the second they'd touched lips. Their kisses are having less effect, only delaying the inevitable wanton need they have for each other. And yet he chases her warm, soft lips and goes back for more which each break of breath.

The second she goes to pull off her top, throwing it somewhere across the room, his hands are on her, unclasping her bra to join it and his lips and tongue running over the newly exposed flesh. It smells like a mix of her perfume, her natural scent and the earthy smell that the rain leaves behind.

He savours every breath, every soft moan that tumbles out her mouth when he mouths one of her perk, rosy nipples, taking one and running his tongue all over it. His hand joining the other to give it attention. He could die a happy man buried between her tits like this, feeling the pleasant thrum of her heart beneath her ribs.

When her hand slips beneath the waistband of his jeans, wrapping around his cock, he groans against her chest, sending vibrations through her torso. She smiles a bit, with flushed cheeks, that he's already hard.

"Miss me?"

He'd missed her playfulness. But the way she's tugging at his length, squeezing ever so slightly harder when she gets to the tip, smearing precum over the head of it as it weeps with arousal. It gives her attitude a run for its money.

His half lidded gaze looks up at her, her hair framing her face no nicely in the dim light of the room. Rosy lips parted in anticipation of his reaction to her touch, glazed and kiss-bruised from before.

"Fuck…" he breathes, tipping his head back slightly.

With his eyes shut she dips her head to his neck, sucking and biting softly on his pulse point, speeding up the motions of her hand only slightly. But not enough. She skims over his clothed chest, letting her legs fall between his to the floor, her lips kissing just below his navel over the smattering of sandy blonde hair.

Billy looks down with a sort of admiration, watching the way she tugs his jeans over his hips, taking his boxers with it. Her mouth covers every bit of skin that's shown, taking his hot and aching length in one hand to give him some languid pumps before she dips her tongue against the base.

It's the teasing that makes Billy breathe faster. But nothing prepares him for the way her mouth sinks over his cock in one smoothe warm motion. After having been together for so long, she knew how to take him well and so she takes as much as she is able into her mouth, relaxing her jaw and using the other hand to pump whatever else she can't fit.

He pulls his hoodie over his head and she can see the way his muscles on his stomach flex, trying to hold back as much as he can. His fingers thread through her hair at the side of her face to the back, not pulling her on him, just holding her as she bobs her head against him, her tongue running against the vein on the underside, a motion that makes his fists tighten against her scalp. Every now and then when her eyes look up at him, his breath is stolen from his lungs and feels as if he might cum right there and then.

She hums around him appreciatively, enjoying the heady, intoxicating taste of him after so long. Not wanting to cum too soon, Billy gently pulls her off him, his cock shining with her spit and still standing hard against his stomach.

"You're so fucking good…" he whispers as his thumb drags over her bottom lip, tugging her to his own in a deep and wanton kiss. She pulls her jeans down with her underwear before sitting astride his narrow waist again, dragging her wetness over his cock as she sways her hips over him. Being naked in front of each other like this again is just so right, so basic and human, it's like nothing ever happened.

He smirks in the kiss at how ready she already is.

"Miss me?..."

Her face blushes with embarrassment and she playfully swats his shoulder, "shut up"

He reaches between them, running the head of his cock through her slick folds. It'd be so easy to just slide inside, to be enveloped by her warmth and feel the familiar ridges of her core, squeeze him just as tightly as they always had.

"Billy please…" she sobs as he teases her, moving away when she tries to sink down on him, "please just fuck me..."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He squeezed the flesh of her ass hard when he sank inside, leaving red marks against her skin as she stretched to accommodate his size. Her lips parted, eyes softly shut as a gasp escaped her mouth, matching his.

Their breaths mingled with each other as she took him fully, the head of his cock kissing that rough spot inside, easier in this position.

"You were fucking made for me…" he breathed against her lips, using her hips to move her on hip. She mewled out in pleasure, tears pricking the corners of her eyes at feeling him so deep inside her.

He moved her on top of him, back and forth, over and over again, fucking her using his own hold on her waist, meeting her halfway with his own pressing of his hips, watching the way her tits bounced with ever harsh thrust. Her sounds, every soft moan of his name, were music, only urging him on.

“God…Billy…” running her fingers through his hair, she held him close, lifting her hips to aid their chaotic fucking. Trying and failing to hold back the intensity of her moans as her first climax fills her limbs with warmth, thighs trembling around him and a series of expletives as he shoves himself harder into her through it. It takes the wind out of her for a moment while she gathers her breath, the lewd sound of her slick against the base of his cock the only sound in the room.

Only he could make her feel like this. Lose control like this. It didn't happen overnight either. At first he'd been apprehensive to show how much he wanted sex. But when she teased it out of him, it couldn't be contained any longer.

"Taking me so well-shit" he moaned out, her breasts against his face.

He could feel himself getting close.

She squeaked in surprise when her back met the sofa, looking up at Billy over her as his large palm pulled her legs apart again. He looked so good. Naked, his cock hard and covered in her arousal, lithe form and his face, rivalling that of a statue carved out of stone. Sharp jaw and nose, his soft blue eyes, sandy blonde hair now tousled from their intense lovemaking.

How could she not love him.

He was perfect.

He unapologetically gave that boyish Billy smile as he looked down at her, her chest speckled with heat from the passion of it all. Her tits moving with her breathing and her cheeks as she smiled lazily up at him, tinged with the prettiest pink he'd ever seen.

Billy remembered the last holiday they went on together, in the late spring. They'd driven to Cornwall with a hired minivan. And before arriving into Port Isaac, they'd stopped on a country road in the late afternoon when the sun touched the sea. He'd made love to her in the driver's seat and admired the way the orange sunset kissed the colour of her hair. She looked gorgeous then, face flushed and legs astride him.

How she looks at him now reminds him of that afternoon.

"What?" She asked, when he just sat and admired her.

He just shook his head, "You're just beautiful…"

He captured her lips with his own, leaning over and slowly teasing himself back inside her, sliding through with the aid of her new rush of arousal from her orgasm. Slowly like this, she feels every ridge, every vein and it does nothing to stem the desire to have him do whatever he wants. As long as it's with her.

With the soft thrust of his hips against her, pulling her legs around his waist, his hand runs up her front, between her breasts to her neck, gently holding her while he looks down to see how his cock just effortlessly disappears inside her over and over. His hips meetings hers slower than before but with just as much power, as if trying to imprint the shape of him inside her so they’d never forget how each other felt.

Billy bites at the skin between her neck and shoulder, hoping the marks take there, before pulling her leg up in his palm and pushing it higher so that he can raise himself and fuck down into her.

"Billy…don't stop…" she breathes as her eyes meet his. He can tell the new position reaches somewhere so incredibly deep that she clutches his shoulders for purchase, nails leaving half moon shaped indents in his skin.

"Fuck, you're so-" he chokes out, the veins in his neck pulsing with desire the more he feels himself losing control. Her mewls and moans fill the otherwise quiet room, whispering his name like a chant, "I'm gonna-"

"Yes…Billy…need you" she whispers, her hands gripping his shoulders again when the pressure inside her lets loose once again, making her tighten around him.

He cums with a shattered moan against her neck, rocking himself against her a few more times for friction before stilling inside her warm heat as it convulses around him, the aftershocks of he orgasm only serving to prolong the pleasure of his. He can feel his blood humming with hunger and a sense of completion, like he's found the other half he'd been after, and doesn't want to let it go now.

He can feel their heartbeats against each other, her chest meeting his with every sharp inhale. Her skin is so warm and soft against him, he never wants to know what it's like to not have her again.

When he looks down at her, her eyes find his quickly and for a moment they admire the fucked-out expressions on their faces, the large dilation of their pupils and how their touch goes form harsh and needy to tender and loving.

She smiles tiredly and he can still feel her heartbeat inside her, even as he begins to soften.

"Tea's gone cold…" he breathes out between pants.

Her laugh fills his heart with warmth, a genuine laugh with teeth and those little lines around her eyes. And he can't help but feel a bolt of pleasure up his spine at how the laugh reverberates through her body to his cock.

He falls to his side against the sofa, lazily pulling a blanket over them and pulling her to his chest, running his fingers through her wavy, slightly tangled hair. He kisses the crown of her head, inhaling her scent, musky from the rain with a whisper of her shampoo.

"Stay here…please…" he begs, his voice thick, as if he couldn't bear the rejection of her saying no. Not after everything. He even feels his chest tighten at the thought.

Her head moves to look up at him, reaching out to bring his face to hers, kissing his lips so tenderly it made him want to weep.

"I could never leave you…ever" she whispers against his lips, slotting hers against his once more, her hand ghosting over his heart. To feel how alive he is.

Those three words don't even need to be said. They both knew it. Knew it had never left even in their absence. When their hearts had been divided.

But for old time's sake, they said it anyway.

Dividers by @saradika

General Taglist: @risefallrise @valeskafics

Billy W Taglist: @fan-goddess & for my Billy simps @assortedseaglass

*Bold means I couldn’t tag, if I can't tag you you can always turn on notifications for when I post. DM me if you wanna be removed besties

#billy washington smut #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington x oc #billy washington x reader #billy washington #billy washington angst #ewan mitchell characters #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell #trigger point #billy washington trigger point #trigger point series #trigger point bbc

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ranposbabe · 2 years

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Wine settles the nerves | Aegon II Targaryen x implied Strong!Reader

A/N: As I am not fluent in Valyrian, please excuse any mistakes in the translations etc, thank you !

“Ah six years since we’ve last seen our blood my dear brother.” You sigh as you walk along side the quiet dark haired lad.

“Cheerful are you ?” Jace inquires with a slight smirk forming. “Oh Jace ! Please enlighten me !” You laugh, pulling at your elder brothers arm. “If you had it your way we would’ve never of left Dragonstone, y/n.”

“Lyka” (Quiet) You tease, giving him a playful punch to the shoulder. “What does that word mean again ?” Jace wonders, raising a brow. You simply scoff before turning to run off only to be chased by him. “It’s not my fault you somehow manage to be skilled speaking our mother tongue !”

Oh how the roar of your laughter could’ve been heard throughout the seven kingdoms.

Time Skip…

You were late. You can recall so vividly how your mother, the realm’s delight softly scolding you on any occasion for never arriving on time while your father figure Daemon sat back surprisingly for once holding back his laugh.

But now here you were practically running to the throne room with your small heels clicking against the ground and your black and red dress slightly swooshing away. The same exact dress your mother gave you some time ago, that she once wore years ago where she had slaughtered some boar.

But you knew how important this was.

Your younger brother Lukes right to Driftmark was being questioned and you would not just stand aside and not let your support for him be unknown.

As you slyly snuck by your cousins Beala and Rhaena you hear

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son Lucerys Velaryion “ Spoke the sneaky hand of the king.

“Where have you been ?” Jace asks, tilting his head. Your mother spared you a glance before walking up front to address everyone. It was only truly now in the moment you could take in the scene before you. You swore to keep your head low out of respect yet your curious eyes betrayed you as you scan right over to the gleaming light that was green.

It had only been half a decade since you last seen your aunt and uncles yet it felt like a century. Years back before Vhagar’s now rider had lost his eye, you had gotten along quite well with the young boy and his older sister.

However the same could not of been said for Aegon. He always had his nose stuck in a cup drinking and it bored you nonetheless. You can recall multiple occasions where you repeatingly stole this cup and then ran round the yard forcing him to chase you while he slightly struggled due to the wine intake.

As the young prince seemed so desperate for the precious cup you had made a joke how he should have the blacksmiths make him the finest jewellery out of the cup so the chances of it being stolen again was unlikely.

The last time you had seen Aegon before returning to Dragonstone, he placed a ring on a string and practically flung it at you and called it a day. Yet when you actually had the chance to study the “necklace” you couldn’t help but notice the striking resemblance its appearance had to the cup he had chased you for.

“Well ?” Jace says, impatiently waiting for your response. Your eyes were practicing glued to the sight of the greens. They all stood tall, especially Aemond who now wore a patch over his lost eye yet your eyes couldn’t move away from his older brother who’s hair was now cut and lacked the vibrant curls they once had. He seemed to have not noticed your stare as he himself stared off almost as if he was deprived whether it be sleep or alcohol or both you were unsure.

You turn to your brother who seemed to be the only one noticing your longing gaze yet made no comment about it.

“I was just-

Just then the booming noise of the doors opening rang through the room and a guard called out the titlements of your grandsire. At the sudden loud noise you gasp, instantly hiding behind the rogue prince like a small child. Daemon takes notice of this and sends his kind smile your way.

You couldn’t help but admire not only your grandsire but also your king as even at his weakness still came to defend not only Lucerys but you and your mother as well.

As usual at any gathering suddenly events took a turn and Daemon killed Vaemond Velaryon in front of you all. You cower back into your mothers arms as she drapes her arm protectively over you knowing you couldn’t bare the gruesome sight.

You were late. Again.

The king ordered for a family dinner where everyone where to be present and yet suddenly the dreaded thought dawned on you that you would see everyone again. You were definitely in need of a confidence boost. As you stood in the dark corridor you shakingly run your hands continuously over your dress your eye catches a serving girl with cups of wine on her plate. “Excuse me !” You call to the serving girl.

“Where is y/n ?” Viserys croaked, slowly tilting his head towards Rhaenyra. Although the music continued, everyone stopped to raise their head to notice the empty seat next to Baela. “Rhaenyra.” Alicent spoke softly. “Where is she ?” She inquires.

The others dip back to their fallen conversations but Rhaenyra breaths stop for a brief moment. She doesn’t know where you exactly are and when she shares a glance with Daemon she learns that he doesn’t know either.

“My my everyone’s already here !”

You bow respectfully while trying not to trip before your king and then place a gentle kiss on your grandsire cheek and make your way to your empty seat. Of course completely missing the horrified look on the queens face and the confusion on your poor mothers. Everyone had already began drinking and could tell you started before them all. Luke couldn’t help but laugh as you simply sat down and smiled while being completely dazed. “y/n ? Are you alright ?” Baela asked, despite knowing the answer.

“Yes.” You chirped. “Indeed I am, cousin.” You smile, patting the Velaryon girls hand.

Your eyes regretfully turn to face in front of you to see Daemon like Luke, finding amusement in your state while your mother gives you that look that she gives in her eyes to say we’ll talk later.

Avoiding her stare, you turn to face Luke to indulge in conversation while not even noticing the silver head at the opposite end of the table staring your way. Soon, out of the corner of your eye you see Aegon speaking to your brother and you can’t help but wonder. If Aegon had no problem engaging in simple conversation with the others than what had set you apart from the rest ?

As soon as Jace got up to dance with Helaena, you unsteadily slipped out of your chair and stole Jaces seat, taking the spot next to the elder prince.

“Uncle ?” You whisper, all of a sudden becoming timid. It was as if the wine was instantly drained from your system.

“You have grown, niece.” He spoke rather coldly, reaching for his cup.

“Can’t you at least spare me a glance ?” You say, snatching the cup from him.

Aegon huffs as he sunk down into his chair , slowly tilting his head to you. His tired eyes meet yours and yet suddenly it feels too intimate.

You raise a brow as suddenly his eyes widen and he sits up straighter in his chair and his just then his hand reaches for your neck.

“You’re wearing it.” He mutters in disbelief.

“What ?” You question, looking down to see his fingers clutching the ring attached to your necklace. You can practically feel the queen’s eyes burning into you like a dragons breath yet you’re currently struggling to meet Aegon’s eyes let alone his mothers.

“Aegon I-

Instantly there’s a loud bang.

Your eyes momentarily meets that of the rider of the largest dragon and there he stood with a cup in his hand.

“Final tribute.” He confidently spoke.

“To the health of my nephews.”

You can’t help but be slightly relieved that Aemond completely disregarded your presence. You knew what was to come so to avoid the madness you stood up quietly leaving behind you could hear Jace daring Aemond to repeat himself. No more did you want to hear.

Time Skip…

After taking some needed fresh air, you decided that it was time to head back inside and face your mother as you could already imagine what she would say.

No more dragon riding !

You knew that you were suppose to be accompanied by a guard while outside yet since the wine was now drained from your system you could no longer feel the urge to hold a conversation. You let out a tiresome sigh and as you turn you gasp as suddenly a hand grabs your wrist. You calm as you notice it was only the silver head prince himself.

“Skorion jaelagon a ?” (What you want ?) You sigh, trying to pull away.

“Dohaeriakson raqan.” (I like to be served) He whispered, pulling you closer by the waist. “Struggled to find a servant girl did you, my prince ?” You wonder, tilting your head slightly.

“Earlier you were practically begging for my attention, now here you are acting like it’s the other way around.”

“That is due to the fact I am no longer persuaded by wine.”

“I saw the way you looked at me in the throne room, y/n.” He says, hiding in your neck before sneakingly placing a kiss under your jaw. Your eyes can’t help but widen at his words. You were sure that he hadn’t of seen you yet you clearly stood mistaken.

“You think that strong boy was the only one who caught that look ?” You can practically feel his smirk pressed against your skin. “Don’t call him that.” You groan, rolling your eyes at the typical comment.

“Do you feel that ?” He whispers, dragging your hand down low. Despite him removing his hand, yours lingers for a few more seconds. “That is for no serving girl.” He proudly claims. “How honoured I am.” You laugh.

“You’ve really kept it after all this time ?” He asks with an almost pleading look evident in his eyes as he stares down at your necklace. “Of course.” You mutter, slightly playing with the string.

Slowly but surely you find yourself moving closer, craving to be in his presence just like before and maybe to even-

“What’s going on here ?”

You turn round, horrified to see the sight of your own mother standing there with a guard behind her. “M-mother I-“ You stutter, not able to comprehend what was happening. “y/n we are to be heading back to Dragonstone. We cannot waste another moment here.” Rhaenyra states, glaring at her half brother.

“Please escort the princess back to her brothers.” Rhaenyra ordered the guard. Your head hangs low as you head back with the guard, tears already welling up in your eyes. Rhaenyra steps closer to the younger Targaryen. “Whatever happened here, ends now.” She promises.

“We’ll see about that.” Aegon smirks.

No more dragon riding !

#hotd spoilers #house of the dragon #reader insert #x reader #hotd 1x08 #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #house targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader

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unohanabbygirl · 1 year

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Imagine Luke and Aemond announcing their plans to marry after years of hiding their relationship and while everyone else is in shock (except Daemon cause he knows everything) Corlys runs away to gather an entire fleet of young attractive noble men to marry his precious grandson instead of the one eyed mama’s boy.

Rhaenys: He’s happy with the lad!

Corlys: And I understand that my dear but Lucerys is still young, he should weigh his options before settling down so quickly.

Rhaenys: *sigh* What do you even know about these men?

Corlys: They aren’t Aemond.

#lucemond #grandpa corlys is the REAL number 1 lucemond anti #aemond is fuming in jealousy meanwhile luke is so embarrassed as his geandsire is trying to hook him up with dozens of guys at once #laenor is in pentos when he receives a letter from rhae about it and is just like where was all this acceptance for me 🤨

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 1 year

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It's Not Over, Is It?

{Where a silly game of blooming romance, becomes tangled in a spiders web of jealously and rivalery.}

Cast: (Y/N) (L/N), Bruce Wayne, Talia Al Ghul [Rule 63], Catwoman [Rule 63].

Au Synopsis:

(Y/N), having been chosen as Bruce Wayne's manager/secretary for his "playboy act". Controlling over the media and press that had anything to do with Bruce Wayne or Batman.

(Y/N) is in love with Bruce and is a mother figure to Dick. But Bruce has never once tried to express his love for the reader. Afraid to ruin the little peace and normality he had in his life with you, Dick and Alfred.

So, he finds "comfort", in other's embraces unknowingly.

(Y/N) knows everything about Bruce, to his coffee, to the names that he slept with or fancied when in his "playboy persona".

Has helped create every file and notes or each vilian or other in his rouge gallery.

Talia Al Ghul, the son of the Demon Head: Ra's Al Ghul.

Knows of the little game of "hopeless lovers" when he sees a pair. Instead of waiting for the other to fall, he instead makes his move. Finding (Y/N) under the guise of friendship and a random civilian that happened be at the right place and right time.

Yet. He toys with the Detective, that he and his father had found quite intriguing.

Though he is not seen as a worthy enough successor in his father's eyes. He doesn't mind, finding Batman much more of a worthy advisory and leader.

Ra's sees you as the perfect bride for his son. Along with carrier for the perfect successor.

Catwoman: Selina Kyle

Selina adores poking fun at the Bat when knowing somewhere you could be listening. Often stealing Batmans communicator to converse with you.

He too plays the civilian card with you, wanting to charm you with his real self instead of the sleek cat burglar he dressed as.

He found you gorgeous, more precious than any jewelry he could've stole.

But you know his true intentions (?) and identity.

So often leading him astray with words of formality and obliviousnsss.

"You know, I think it's weird.." The young Grayson started, watching you clean up Bruce's wounds carefully as he stares at you. Doing his best not to flinch or show any signs of pain. Failing terribly, but you didn't seem focused on it. More wrapped up with placing bandages over his ribs.

"What is odd to you, young master Richard?" Alfred questions the little Robin.

Dick looks away from the two, giving Alfred a stern look.

"Mom's been busy as of late..." The sidekick kicks his legs back and fourth on the small chair.

"In what way?" Alfred rose a eyebrow.

"I've noticed she's been getting flowers or little notes. I think, she thinks, there from Bruce." Dick sighs, "but I know there not. But also, I saw this guy follow me and her to the nice bakery she takes me too when I get a good grade on my tests."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, the desserts are good. But not as good as your's Alfred."

"Why thank you, Master Dick." Alfred smiled at the young lad. "But I must say, a strange fellow following the two of you around sounds concerning."

"Don't worry, I kept glaring at him and told mom about it. So we left in a hurry. I made sure they didn't track us!" Dick said pridefully.

[Just a small idea I had at 3am, hope you like it!]

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x batmom #batman x reader #bruce wayne #selina kyle x reader #catwoman x reader #talia al ghul #talia al ghul x reader #dc x you #dc x y/n #dc x reader #yandere dc x reader #dc batman #dc batman x reader #dc au #y/n #genderbend x reader

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dairy-farmer · 3 months

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My Thought(tm) of the Day! A Do-Over Verse! (o.o ) oh?

Yes! Tim. Glorious, brave, sexy. Dies in battle. It's the Big One, ya'll. A doomed timeline. Worst case scenario. Falling cities, few struggling survivers. The works.

Thing is? For each of them? That worst case scenario is DIFFERENT. Maybe one gets zombies. Another an alien invasion. A hell gate. Regardless, they survive. Fight and live on. Find The Rewind Clock.

A stopwatch that ticks backwards. One use. They.... they have so many regrets. Enemies are closing in. Bloodloss getting to them. They just want to see their family again. Be... better. Nicer to Tim. Save the world.

Click.

Time Rewinds ⏪.

And suddenly? Bruce is... sore. Not burned, parched, and cornered by literal cackling demons as the world burns. Not on his last leg. The last Wayne. The last hope of humanity, a species soon to finally die.

No. He's... exhausted. Wearing clothes he never wanted to see again. Stubble on his face and the ache of recent weeping in his throat. These are his mourning clothes. He's sitting at the Batcomputer. And checking the security feeds?

There is a determined, baby faced, young Timothy Drake... walking himself up the drive. A folder of damning evidence under his little arm.

Jason is dead and soon won't be. And Tim... he... he can start over.

He gets up. This time, he answers the door, instead of Alfred. Is serious when Tim lays out his case. Nods at the right moments. Tells him he's right.

Makes him Robin.

He's better this time. Gives feedback. Doesn't play mind games. Nurtures his brilliance. And Tim? Soaks it up. It burns Bruce, how easy it all could have been. The WARMTH Tim so freely offers. After so many mistakes? Bruce craves it like an addict.

But nothing could ever just be free, could it?

That damn end of the world scenario. He finally tracks it down. Has a MONTH left before Jason should be back. Only to get dragged into literal Hell along side Constantine and have to fight his way out. They close the damn gate. Forever.

It takes two months.

He's in pieces. Injured and still reeling from the horrors he's seen. But he has to try. Try to go get his son. Tim stops him. Keeps him from killing himself, trying to invade the heart of the League while half dead. But after the fires... all the fires... he's so cold. They JEERED and mocked him with his failures.

Like an Addict.

He needs to be closer. Closer and closer. Needs to cherish and be kind and SHOW Tim how much he means to him. But he can't! A lifetime if words trapped, refuse to break free, even now. The only time he's EVER been so intimate and soft is when he...

Wires not so much cross as long ago corroded. He NEEDS. He's kissing Tim's neck. Hands gentle. See? He CAN be gentle. Be tender and good. Not even taking for himself, just massaging muscles loose. Stroking soft, soft skin. Pulling close to cuddle, warm and precious, as he rubs and rubs until Tim comes apart under his gentle hands.

Tim clings so tight. Is punchdrunk and twitching. A first.

His Robin trusts him. Loves him. Is a curious, insatiable, lad. What new, unexpected, and pleasant thing is THIS? Tim let's him have so many firsts.

But what of Dick? Brother and Protecter of Timmeryly Innocence? He faced Vampires. Because of course it had to be sexy, sexy, Vampires. Frankly, he half expected it. But as they close in? He stands atop the hoard of every explosive left he could salvage and wonders if his family would have proud.

If this stupid stop watch will even work.

Where, exactly, he would have taken Timmers for a "Yay We Won!" Celebration dinner if they had, indeed, actually won. He misses pizza. And his friends. But most of all? His family.

Eat several hundred tons of chemical reactions, fuckers.

Click.

He's just finished unlocking a door he is VERY certain he sent a vampiric Deathstroke face first through. The door swings open aaaaand.... yep, that's his old apartment. What day is-?

Tim squeezes by him to start poking around.

Oh.

Dick stops caring. Tim is ALIVE. Smiling at him and joking. Dick feels floaty and far away. Let's Tim do as he pleases. And just... let's himself breathe. Feeling like he's wound too tight beneath his skin. Like at any moment a vampire will crash through a wall and ruin this beautiful dream.

Eventually, Tim notices.

He climbs into Dicks lap to hug him. Ground him. And... and something in Dick snaps. That heartbeat. That beautiful, beautiful heartbeat. Alive, alive, ALIVE. He's rolling them before he can think about it. Tim melting into his kisses. Then jerking and grabbing hold for dear life as he slides of the couch to his knees.

All but ripping anything that keeps his mouth from its goal. Spreading legs and holding them tight, so he can't wiggle free too escape how overwhelming it feels. Dick couldn't hold back if he wanted too.

And he really, really doesn't want too.

Tasting and swirling, sucking and fucking his tounge as deep as it'll go. Pinching and rubbing at that cute little clit. Sliding fingers DEEP to fuck and find and rub mercilessly against all his good spots.

If the apartment wasn't soundproofed, his neighbors would think he was murdering someone. Slowly.

He's so hard it hurts and can't bring himself to care. It's so GOOD to see Timmy sobbing on his tounge. Writhing on the fucking of his fingers, incoherently begging. The only thing that convinces him to STOP is when Tim's whines start sounding the wrong kind of desperate.

Fumbling blindly with a wet hand he jerks his sweats down and crawls up. Bends his sweet boy in half. He slides in so easy, after all the fingerfucking and orgasms. Timmy is so WET. Gushing.

It's perfect. He's perfect. Doesn't have to do a thing. Dick can lift him up easy, still impaled all precious and perfect on his cock, and carry him to the bedroom. Lay him down and work his cock in and out, sweet and gentle, of that poor over toyed with hole, until it becomes too much and he spills DEEP.

You just doze off, Tim. Let your big brother take care of clean up.

And so it goes~ Jason? Zombies. The jokes got old REAL fast. He blinks awake one step into Titans Tower. Changes plans. Catches his successor masterbating. Changes plans AGAIN. Since when was Tim-Tam capable of being horny? Who cares. It's been years by his view point and this is Hot.

He Dramatically Unmasks and pounds Tim through the mattress. Exits stage left, pursued by drugged up Half-Kryptonian.

Damian? About to die in the cold vacuum of space. Took the fight to them. Invade HIS planet, will you? Well uno reverse card mother fuckers. He's gonna invade YOU. ALARMING successfully too, they might add. That was their entire battle fleet.

WAS.

But, well, all men must die... etc etc. Death soliloquy. Or... you know... this stupid magical watch Jon insisted he bring. Meh. Might as wel- Click.

Mother Fucker. Jon was RIGHT. He must never be informed.

And... he forgot how Competently Sexy his Rival was. Shit. He was caught loo-! But Tim just? Grins? Says something about him finally "deciding to get along, huh"? W-what? What's happening. Why is he being pushed down onto a bench? Is this hazing?

Tim rides him dry. He may be a changed man. He can't feel his toes. What in the name of all that is small and fluffy is GOING ON!? Wasn't this supposed to be time travel? And of course, that's when he clocks the others acting Clearly Off.

The fuckers Be-Hornied his RIVAL! He's... something about that! He'll tell you when he can move again. Contemplated the virtues of matrimony with his long time Rival. But rest assured! There will be yelling!

-🐼

😍😍😍😍!!!! them all going back in time at different points and making their moves on tim, treating him nicer, more tender, not letting themselves be held back because they've denied themselves for so long and lost their tim already!!! bruce being the first followed by dick, jason, and damian who indulge and fuck tim and love him! and tim!!! loving his family so much and loving them in every way, letting them make their moves on him because this time around they love him and aren't afraid to show it!! all these versions of the bats who have lived through the loss of everything in an apocalypse and getting to live peaceful and happy lives with their tim!!!😍

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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bitchfitch · 6 days

Text

For a nobleman of any rank, the only relationship more politically influencial than a marriage that he could forge was that of mentor and apprentice.

The right wife, might, give him a lifetime of alliance with her family and heirs to succeed him or to marry off to other families to forge further alliances, but the right apprentice would give him a direct line into any family, village, town, country even, that that apprentice might someday lead. The Right apprentice might even prove a worthy heir without the mess blood ties brought. A son killing his father is crowned king, an apprentice knows he can do nothing to his mentor without the community turning on him in an instant.

The right apprentice wouldn't have an unfit older brother that needed done away with first.

The elder demon prince had spent many of his days dreaming of who he would want for his apprentice. A strapping young lad who was clever and brave and as ruthless as he. A boy who took after his heart and would find the beauty in conquest and glory in brutal battle. Strong with a sword, he had to be a match for Pavo himself so he'd feel no shame should the apprentice betray him.

The Cristatus clan, Pavo's own home and current top of the pile with their leader reigning as Demon King, was the obvious source for a boy of a like heart, but there was no point in making an allyship within the people he was already prince of.

He cast his net wider, his father was nearing the end of his life and Pavo wanted his apprentice under his wing before a crown made him too busy to dedicate proper time to making a warrior.

The Galluses, proud as any Cristatus but scrappy in their unrefinement. A boy from their ranks would jump to meet Pavo's expectations just to stay in the luxury of the Cristatus' wealth. His loyalty guaranteed by the nature of his clans need for protection and resources. Little did they offer politically besides bodies to fill the front lines of a battle with, but the image of him as a king for the downtrodden would be worth as much as any proper alliance.

The Ocellatta, Gorgeous artisans with their lands bursting with gems and precious metals. The boy they'd give would be worthless as a warrior, smug and brave with no strength or common sense, but the wealth and trade and beautiful people with their beautiful things would make the creature worth it. Their army was bought and not raised. Expensive yes, but convenient should he need to turn on his apprentices home. He could pay more, and make the boy watch as it all burned.

The Coraxes were shadow bound cowards. Snively assassin's who struck from the shadows and hid behind their mountainous home. Traitors, thieves, conniving, as weak in will as they were in body. Their mountains bursting with silver and rich with gold. Their territory a barrier to conquests of further flung riches.

Their lord a wannabe queen who was biding her time for a single moment of weakness that could allow her strike to be as quick as it was decisive in the fate of their looming war.

It was her, Lady Corvus of the Corax who stood before Prince Pavo the day he'd accept his apprentice.

He'd heard many descriptions of her. Lean with antler like horns and a whip tail that cut light itself. Her shadows so thick that all light that touched her skin vanished into her darkness. He could tell you nothing of her even as his younger brother directed his attention the right way with a hand on the back of his arm.

The silver mirror prosthetic eyes that granted Pavo the vision he hadn't been born with were miracles of magic he'd boast about till the day he died, but they always failed to show him what was hidden and all a Corax did was hide.

"Prince Pavo," her voice was that metered and courtly thing nobles who were ashamed of the blood on their hands used.

"Lady Corax," he returned with the drawl the finer demons hated to hear on their soon to be leaders voice.

Her carriage stood proud behind her, the door open and moving in such a way that implied another of her ilk was bent over the seat and attempting to convince the boy of the hour out from the shadows within.

"He's a bit shy. Clever though." She keeps her tone despite the dawning embarrassment both were being forced to endure.

Pavo shot a look over his shoulder to the company of his warriors and their apprentices behind him. The Coraxes made it look like they came alone, just a family with a handmaid and a driver, but not one of them believed there weren't Coraxes hiding in every shadow along the edges of the clearing between their lands that they'd chosen for this meeting.

The shriek of a child being torn from perceived safety was what pulled his attention back the right way.

The panicked thing thrashed in invisible to Pavo arms, his face streaked with tears.

Every demon stood a little straighter, the smell was what changed their tone from amusement to curious hunger.

The boy was perfectly visible. No shadows clung to him. His skin was flushed but deathly grey, his hair a sort of ink black that Pavo had never seen in the light of day. His eyes though were brown where the whites weren't cried red.

He was too young to have horns, too tiny to be a demon 10 years of age, his whipping tail too short to be seen beyond his skirts. A man who couldn't see color wouldn't have hesitated a second to call him completely human.

The boy lunged to wrap his arms around his mother's legs as soon as he was set down, Pavo imagined he had his face hidden in her skirts from the perspective of everyone else.

He scowled, Truthahn pinched his arm to remind him to keep his temper.

"Esti, this is Prince Pavo, he is to be your master," she pushed him away from her with a hand on his shoulder, her claws making the fabric of his robe pull and drape as she half picked him up to turn him.

"Esti, what a unique name," Pavo crouched down to bring his face near Esti's eye level, the boy flinched away from him. He'd maim Corvus for this slight. He admired her initiative, but to use a child as bait was a crime he'd not forget.

The halfbred bastard son shook. His expression said it all. He knew he'd been brought here so his death may justify a war. A walking martyr too young to have ever had a choice in it.

"It's great joy to finally meet you. I've waited to have an apprentice of my own for many years," he spoke loud and clearly as he held his hand out, the gesture being taken as slowly as he could as to not spook Esti further. Corvus wanted to see her son slaughtered, and he refused to give her so much as a frown of disappointment in the boy. "It'd be an honor to have the privilege to train you, if you'll have me as your mentor." He wished he could see Corvus's face, he hoped the boy could.

Esti's round eyes were wide, the moment not aligning with the terror he'd carried to this meeting. He looked at Pavo's hand like it might be a bear trap.

"Don't be rude, Esti," Corvus warned, the barely there note of irritation was enough to make Pavo break and grin.

"He's making a big decision. Be patient with him," Truthahn spoke for him.

Esti looked between the two Cristatus brothers, they must look like holy men out of a fairy tale to him.

They were magnificent even by demon standards. Tall and broad, their garb cut to show the heavy muscle they carried. The color of summer sun's bronze warmth with hair of the richest gemstone purple. Jewelry dripping from their horns to their ankles. Truthan with his neatly folded wings and Pavo with his mirrors for eyes.

Esti who came from a land of grey, of deception and betrayal by his own kin, reached his hand to take Pavo's.

"I- uhm," his voice was small, his every muscle tense and shaking as he waited for the trap to spring shut. "I- I - it's an uhm, honor to be uhm- Thank you. For uh, accepting m-me as your ap-rentice."

He hadn't even been coached on what to say should Pavo welcome him. Not a single scrap of silver had been spared to put a thin ring on any of his fingers. No leather for his belt, His very sandals looked as inexpensive and thin soled as could be managed.

Pavo gripped his hand tight to hold him still, and pushed a bracelet worth more than the carriage Esti had arrived in onto the boys wrist. It wasn't part of either of their customs, but it was a necessity to point out how dismissive Esti's own kin had been of him.

"It's official now," Pavo gave the boy a reassuring smile before dragging him forward and off of his feet. He weighed next to nothing, even less than Pavo had anticipated as he hefted Esti up to sit on the shelf his shoulder. Pavo turned to his men a triumphant gesture to show off their newest member.

"Greet him! My apprentice, Esti now of the Cristatus clan!" He was glad he didn't need to coax them any further, the cheering ruptured through the group. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Esti cling to the bracelet instead of the hand on his thigh that kept him safe from falling off. His priority to protect the gift he'd been given over his own body in that moment of shocked joy being such a pathetic instinct that it had Pavo promising to himself the boy would think of his home clan as savages by the summer's end when compared to the grace and glory of his mentor's.

The Coraxes left with as little fanfare as they had arrived. Drifting away while the party to celebrate their unwanted eldest son swelled.

Music and fine food cooked at the village and wine carried by their human servants. The comradery of brothers in battle if not blood filling the forest.

Esti to his credit handled the attention well for a child who'd clearly never so much as been allowed to stand in the corner of a proper revel. Still that manifested as him sitting with a look of war shock under the cover of Pavo's cloak. His small frame hidden easily by his new mentor's bulk.

Slowly the wave of warriors and apprentices that came to greet and introduce themselves to the brown eyed shadow under their prince's arm tapered off. Slower then did the party settle into the rhythm of conversation and relaxation.

The servants cleaned around the demons I preparation for setting up camp for the night, the boy who hadn't spoken a single word since his mother left cowered from them just as strongly as he did the warriors that came to chat as old friends with his mentor.

Gallo, a warrior Pavo had picked from a surrendering army himself, sat on the other side of him, his apprentice off following one of the human servant girls around the camp. The two older men watched the hopeful Cockrel shadow her every step. His smile warm his tongue heavy with promises made light by the wine.

"Ah don't judge the chick," Gallo thumped Pavo's shoulder. "Surely even you remember being young and opportunistic."

"I remember it well. Just as well as I remember never understanding the appeal of a human as anything other than a meal."

"A fuck and breakfast in bed, what more could you want?" Gallo joked. "He's got his airheaded reason you know. I think your little hatchling's got him thinking."

"A first for him?"

"Shut it, your highness. No, no, the boy saw how quick everyone was to start playing so much nicer with you. He's not getting a good demoness to nest with him, so he's thinking he's going to get human to do it and let his brothers do the work of raising up the next generation while he and whichever girl he can sweet talk into it make their fortune selling meat,"

"Is this his new attempt at business?" Pavo sighed. Cockerel wasn't a warrior by any definition. Never would be either, but he thought himself clever enough to make it as head of a merchant empire should he be able to get enough capital to start his ventures with.

"It's his best yet, to be honest," Gallo shrugged, he was right, to an extent, because this was the first time he had an idea for a product instead of vague promises of what the product would be.

"He's looking to get a human bred by him so he can sell off his own as meat."

"Hm hm, I give it oh, a week before he breaks and just chews her open."

"Stop him."

"He's showing initiative -"

"He can show initiative with your heard instead of mine. As is the beasts aren't producing enough for slaughter. I'm not loosing a good and healthy-" The fearful sob from his other side was enough to remind him of Esti's presence. "This is done. Stop him. For the time being no half breeds will be permitted in our flock. My apprentice doesn't need anyone learning a preference for that kind of meat."

"Wait- You're seriously keeping that thing?" Gallo reached aroumd him to grab the cloak away from Esti's back.

Pavo didn't hesitate. He grabbed his friend by the front of his neck and jerked him off of the fallen log they'd been sat on and onto the ground before it. Pavo stood to bring his entire wait down on the soft of Gallo's gut, his heel planted just below to concave of the man's ribs. Gallo hacked and gasped, his claws scrambling at the metal armor over Pavo's boot.

"Apologize to him," Pavo snarled, glad to have had someone volunteer to be the example for the others.

"I'm sorry-" Gallo's words cut off with the crunch of his ribs breaking from the lowest point on his sternum.

"For and to who?"

"Esti- Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm sorry-"

"For?" Pavo lifted his boot to bring it down again with the same force as before,

"For - for-" Gallo struggled to find his error amidst his pain, his air being forced from his lungs with every stomp. "For ask-ing if you'd keep him."

"Esti," Pavo drove his heel down once more before turning to the boy, "Has he earned your mercy?"

Esti looked at him like he were a god in the flesh. Like his act of impulsive violence was divine intervention.

He opened his mouth, a merciful confirmation on his lips, before those human brown eyes lit with the realization of the power he held.

"No, he hasn't, Master."

Pavo's pride could light the fires for a year with how hot it burned.

Gallo snarled at the disgrace of having a halfbred child handed his fate. He struck out to attempt to grab for Esti's leg but Esti, for all his fear, was an agile creature. He moved out of the way with the grace the Coraxes were known for. Perching on the balls of his feet on a rotten branch so thin it should've broken the second someone breathed near it.

"What does he need to do to earn it?"

"Uhm- Cockrel. Cockrel will have his punishment."

"Leave him out of this!"

"No. Y-you insulted Pavo's apprentice, shouldn't- uhm- you suffer the same?" he stops, his confidence wavered, he looked to Pavo for guidance.

"Ah, a clever thing isn't he, hm? He's right. To my face, you dared to imply I'd let harm befall my own apprentice. You must surely be willing to see such happen to yours to even think it a possibility for mine," Pavo stepped off of him, finding Cockerel staring wide eyed from the the crowd that had congregated to watch the show.

Pavo beckons him over, the boy had to be shoved forward by warriors with more common sense than Gallo.

"Please-" Gallo fought to his knees, Pavo had no qualms kicking the side of his head to knock him back down.

The boy rushed to stand between his mentor and Pavo, he held his head high. He shook with fear. Weaselly as he was, Pavo had to admit the boy was a loyal sort.

"What was it, you were going to imply I should let happen to Esti?" Pavo strutted, the fear around him feeding into his sense of showmanship.

"He's a halfbred- I thought you wouldn't stand for the insult of Corvus pretending he was a worth offer."

"Hmm." Pavo hummed, he drew his hunting knife from where it was tucked into his belt and held its handle out to Esti. "Four I think. One for the presumption, one for attempting to touch you, one for attempting to harm you, and one for being too cowardly to fight for his right to take a punishment instead of his apprentice."

Esti took the knife, it was massive in his tiny hands, "Four? F-Four what, Master?"

"Four of something. Whatever you deem Cockerel should take for his mentor's crimes."

Esti nodded, he pushed the bracelet up his forearm until it looped over his elbow. Pavo made a note to teach the boy to not be so precious about things getting bloody.

"Y-your hand, please," Esti's foot steps barely disturbed the soil as he approached the older boy, "Either," he clarified.

"He's a swordsman- he'll have no use to your mentor without his -"

"Six," Pavo interrupted, "If that one keeps talking you will take the whole hand."

Cockerel screwed his eyes shut holding his hand out with his fingers splayed.

Esti wrapped one small hand around one thick finger, the edge of the blade placed under the edge of a claw. He looked to Pavo again seeking approval like a pup. He got it with a nod.

Cockerel couldn't muffle his pained scream, the blade cut clean. Taking his claw and the tip of his finger with a single, unskilled motion.

Esti stared at the dripping wound, a nudge on his shoulder from Pavo being enough to send him after the next. Cockerel fell to his knees, he still stood taller than Esti, his other hand gripping his wrist as he swore and bit back screams through the pain.

Two, three, four more, and the hand before him was declawed in its entirety. Esti didn't give the demon a moment of mercy, or in his mercy he aimed to make this as quick as he could, he grabbed for the other hand and took the claw off it's thumb before Cockerel could even lift his head.

Esti stepped back and to Pavo's side the second the deed was done. All his bravado being pulled under his nervous nature seconds after the act was done. Pavo ruffled his hair with all the affection a demon could muster for another. It was a clever choice. Painful and scarring, but unlikely to be permanent. The boy's claws would grow back, and with the right care, might even be just as straight when they do.

"There. Next time I will decide his punishment, and I won't show nearly as much grace as Esti has today." Pavo dismissed them with a wave of his hand, taking his seat and holding his cloak up for Esti to return to hiding beneath its cover. An offer Esti took as gratefully as he did quickly.

Gallo half carried Cockerel away, smartly keeping his mouth shut until they were far from Pavo's hearing.

He felt Esti attempt to return the knife to its sheath on Pavo's hip, but he stopped him with a hand on his. "That's yours now. The weapon you drew your first blood with is a special thing. May it serve you as faithfully as it served me."

"You already gave me the bracelet -"

"I did," Pavo unclipped another from his own wrist and grabbed Esti's to put it on him, "I'm giving you that one too, and the knife, and the sheath with it's belt when I can remove it without loosing my robes."

Esti gawked, he was really good at that. It made this new game of showing him how a noble boy should be treated so much more entertaining.

"I- Thank you, thank you, of course, b-but why?"

"Why what?"

"I don't mean to be rude but uh- he was right. I-m not worth uh any of this. Not anything."

"Hm," Pavo reached behind his own neck to unclasp a heavy beaded necklace. It would look comical around the column of Esti's neck, as it nearly hung down to hips. "I've decided you are."

"But- why?"

"Because Corvus says your not," he shrugs, "You will learn this quick, but I don't enjoy being told what to do and I don't like people thinking they can play my worst traits to their advantage. Corvus did both when she put you before me."

"She thought y-you'd kill me."

"Hm hm, and I'm glad she did. I might have actually done it if she didn't want me to."

He can tell that was the wrong thing to say within a second of the silence between them dawning. "You're safe, is the point. Don't give me a reason to decide I'm better off with you dead, and I'll protect you like you were my own blood. Understand?"

Esti nods, "Yeah, I uh, I think I do."

#pavo #esti #Corvus is playing 5d chess with a turkey.#She wanted Esti safe and well cared for and the surest way to make that happen was to make Pavo think she Didn't want that #anyways ive decided Esti is the only character who gets to have a name that isnt just a bird #instead he gets to be dipshit<3

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daisyblog · 5 months

Text

Olive

Too Young Masterlist Summary: Louis, YN and Arthur meet Olive.

Based on this request Warning: mentions of infertility

For seven years Arthur was the only grandson and nephew, which meant he spoilt rotten with love, affection and attention by both the Styles and Tomlinson families.

When Lottie and Lewis announced they were having a baby, Louis and YN were slightly nervous that their son may get jealous once their little one came along, knowing how much attention a newborn would get. But how wrong were they!

Arthur was absolutely besotted with his little cousin Lucky. From the moment the little boy was placed into his big cousins arms, a bond was created. Arthur took his big cousin duties seriously, always wanting to help whenever Lucky needed a feed or nagging his auntie Lottie to push the pram when he went for a walk with them.

Excitement was an understatement when Arthur found out he was going to have another cousin. Although Louis was one of the first to know Phoebe was expecting, he and YN agreed it would be best to tell Arthur after Phoebe had her twelve week scan.

Before Phoebe and Jack announced their precious news to the world, they had one last person to tell. Louis and YN were sat in their cosy living area at their house in London, Louis arm wrapped around the back of the sofa where YN was sitting.

“Archie!” Phoebe called from her place on the opposite sofa. “I’ve got something for you.”.

“What is it?”. Arthur’s ear perked up at the thought of getting something, eyes wide with enthusiasm. “Is it a card?”. He continued with his questions as he took the white envelope from his auntie.

“Open it and have a look lad.”. Louis spoke as he watched and waited for the moment his son realised what was in the envelope.

Arthur’s little fingers peeled open the sealed envelope, and a frown covered his face as he looked at his Mum for an answer.

“Do you know what it is little man?”. YN asked when she could see his little confused expression. When Arthur shrugged his shoulders and continued to look at the black and white photo in his hand. “Remember when Lucky was in Auntie Lottie’s tummy and she had one of those?”.

“Yeah…have you got a baby in your tummy?” Arthur asked Phoebe, still waiting for an answer.

Phoebe smiled at the smaller version of her brother. “I do….you’re going to have another cousin!”.

“YAAAAAAAY!” Arthur cheered as he jumped up and down on the spot, his feet banging against the floor as he landed. Louis and YN smiled at his excitement. “Can I feel the baby?”.

“I haven’t got a bump yet but you can have a feel if you want.” Phoebe explained before she placed Arthur’s hand on her tummy.

YN’s eyes were glued to the scene in front of her. But Louis’ eyes were on YN because although she wore a smile, he knew what she was thinking. Why couldn’t they give their son a brother or sister?

“It’ll happen one day!” Louis whispered in YN’s ear before placing a sweet peck on her temple as he pulled her closer to him so he could hold her in his arms.

---

Phoebe and Jack were hosting a gender reveal for their families and friends. As Louis was on tour in America and couldn’t make it, Phoebe had already told him the gender of their baby. But YN and Arthur were equally excited for the gender reveal. Eager to know if the new addition was a boy or girl.

“I think Auntie Phoebe and Uncle Jack are having a girl!” Arthur confessed as YN drove them both to the venue where the gender reveal was being held.

YN kept her focus on the road as she drove, both hands holding the steering wheel as Louis’ album was quietly playing in the background. “I think so too sweetheart.”.

“I still don’t think it’s fair that Dad already knows!” Arthur pouted in the front seat. From the minute Arthur had found out that Louis already knew, he had been vocal about the unfairness.

“Your Dad is very special to your aunties and he’s always the first to know important things to them”. YN began to explain. “Your Dad looks after them just like he looks after you.”.

“Like Uncle Harry looks after you?”. Arthur compared the sibling relationships.

“Yeah…just like Uncle Harry looks after me.”. YN smiled at the words. It was in that moment that she appreciated how much love they both had around them.

Although Arthur was certain Phoebe and Jack’s baby was a girl, he still celebrated and showed his excitement as the blue confetti fell from the black balloon, announcing they were having a boy.

But having to explain to Arthur a few weeks later that the baby was a girl, was interesting.

“So it’s changed from a boy to a girl?”.

“How did the doctors get it wrong?”.

“I always knew it was going to be a girl!”.

Were just a few statements that fell from the little boys mouth.

---

As they celebrated the Christmas holidays with the Tomlinson’s so Phoebe’s due date was fast approaching. Which meant Arthur was attached to Phoebe’s side, rubbing her tummy, feeling the baby kick and placing a kiss on her bump every now and then.

After days of asking his parents if he had a new cousin yet and being told “not yet”, the day had finally come when Phoebe and Jack welcomed their little girl into the world.

Arthur was fast asleep upstairs when Louis’s grandparents had a phone-call from Daisy to say that Phoebe had given birth. Louis and YN were so relieved that both were doing well and would be home the next day.

That same night Louis and YN were lying in bed, at his grandparents house, both facing each other.

“So you have a niece!” YN smiled at Louis, as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“We have a niece!” Louis corrected YN as he pulled her closer to him. “You’re amazing, you know that?”.

“I haven’t done anything!” YN quietly laughed, not wanting to wake the others. Her fingers tracing over the tattoos that covered Louis chest.

Louis gave YN a sad smile. “You know what I mean…Phoebe having a baby and for whatever reason us not being able to right now.”.

YN found Louis lips with hers, quickly leaving a little peck. “It’s not meant to be right now.”.

“I think we should recreate the night we conceived Arthur.” Louis joked, causing YN to giggle into his neck. “Vodka in a fookin’ mug should do it.”.

“Shut up Lou!” YN continued to giggle at Louis’ teasing. “I won’t say no to us trying though!”.

“You don’t have to ask me fookin’ twice!” Louis wasted no time pushing his lips onto YN’s and rolling them both over so he was lying on top of her.

Louis was determined that they would see the two lines they had been desperate to see this year.

---

The minute Louis shared the news with Arthur, the little boy was eager to meet the new addition to their family.

“Are they here yet?”. Arthur asked for what felt like the millionth time, as he peaked out of the tall glass window.

“Not yet sweetheart…why don’t we go for a walk?”. YN suggested, knowing Arthur needed a distraction.

Louis rose from his seat. “C’mon lad, we can take your football over the field and have a kick’bout”.

YN, Louis and Arthur spent a few hours over the field. Louis and Arthur kicked the ball back and forth, ran around the grass chasing each other and the little family burst into laughter when the two boys thought it was a good idea to run towards YN at the same time, causing the three of them to fall to the ground and land on each other.

As they walked back towards the house, Louis and YN had their hands intwined and Arthur had a skip in his step hoping he would see a few added cars on the driveway. Meaning Phoebe had arrived home. To Arthur’s relief, there on the driveway sat three extra cars, Phoebe and Jack, Daisy’s and Lottie’s.

Arthur ran towards the front door, with Louis and YN every step behind him telling him to slow down before he scares the newborn baby inside. The house was calm, when they walked through into the living room.

The sight was precious, Phoebe cuddling her baby girl in her arms with Daisy sat next to them completely in awe of her twin and niece. Seeing one of his baby sisters holding her own baby brought a tear to Louis eye.

YN noticed Louis getting emotional and she fell in love with him even more. Taking his hand in hers, she gestured towards where Arthur was now sat between his two aunties, his finger holding his new cousins tiny hand. “C’mon Uncle Louis, go and meet your niece!”.

Arthur held Olive in his arms and his eyes never left the sleeping baby. But what made everyone’s heart burst was when they heard Arthur whisper “I love you Olive.” and pressed a loving kiss to the white hat that laid on her head.

YN remembers seeing Louis hold Arthur for the first time. She hadn’t felt a love like it before. She loved watching their bond and love grow each day. They truly had an unbreakable relationship and YN is so glad Arthur has a loving, kind and special father like Louis.

She was fortunate enough to see Louis become an uncle to Lucky. YN loved watching the difference in the way Louis was an uncle compared to a father. Louis loved being a father, but having the title came with responsibility and decision making. But being an uncle meant he could enjoy being a little care free, fun and bend the rules slightly and then politely hand Lucky back to Lottie and Lewis.

YN hadn’t prepared herself to watch Louis cuddle his niece. The way he gently held her in his tattoo covered arms, the way he looked down the her delicate and tiny features with a loving smile, the way he never looked away from her and wiped a stray tear from his cheek. Her heart longed for another chance to see Louis hold a baby that they craved.

Lottie noticed tears streaming down YN’s cheeks as she sat next to her. Moving closer to her, the younger girl placed her hand in YN’s. “I was the same when I saw Lewis holding Olive…makes you emotional doesn’t it?”.

YN squeezed Lottie’s hand. “It does…hormones ey?” She tried to joke. But looking around the room, she saw a family. Two loving grandparents. Siblings who adored eachother. Cousins who would grow to be forever friends. Proud aunties and uncles. But YN’s mind went to a special woman, who would be looking down and feeling extra proud of her family right now. “Olive Johannah is sent from an angel above!”.

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