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vivwritesfics · 10 hours ago

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Drive Me Crazy

Chapter Five

None of you are used to pack dynamics. Unlike then, it made you near feral. There's nothing more they want than to build you back up.

Lestappen X Reader

warnings: 18+, suggestive stuff, mad max, references to abuse (nothing explicit)

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

Mad Max. A name that hadn't been used in a good long while. Last season he hadn't needed to be Mad Max, not when he was the only one winning.

It was a fitting nickname, sometimes. That was what Charles realised as he sat beside him. On top of the bed covers, his ass positively sore. It wasn't Max he'd just had sex with. No, it was Mad Max.

He'd slept with Mad Max before, just a few times. But those times hadn't been because Max was mad. It was after he had moved himself and his cats to Monaco, when the full moon was near and he needed to stuff his cock in something. That something, more often than not, was Charles.

His neck ached as he reached up, touching the bitemarks Max had left behind. "Sorry," Max muttered as he grabbed a cold can of drink from the mini fridge. "At least they've stopped bleeding."

Charles released a dry laugh from his lips. "Who knew one practice would have you so riled up," he said and laid back. He stared at the ceiling, a smile crossing his face.

He knew exactly why that practice had Mad Max showing his face. Every time he set the fastest lap, the fastest lap was taken from him. FP1 wasn't supposed to be for going fast, but Max couldn't stop himself from racing her. And she couldn't help but race him back. Even with Max in a superior car, she raced him.

In FP2, it was the same story.

"She's incredible," Charles said, still holding the can against his neck. He wouldn't drink whatever was inside, just use it to sooth the wounds that Max created. Wounds Max wanted him to wear with pride, wounds he couldn't bring himself to wear.

"Incredible?" Max scoffed. He shook his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes. "Not the words I'd use.

Charles sat up and let the can fall into his lap. "What words then, Max? How would you describe Birdy?"

Max didn't mean to recoil. "You've given her a name? Fuck, Charles, you really are planning on keeping this one, aren't you?"

"Answer the question, Max."

He let a scowl overtake his features. "You wanna know? Fine, Charles. I'll fucking tell you!" He kicked his suitcase, flipping it over and emptying it of his clothes. "She's dangerous and viscous and she's gonna be the reason you don't get into the car!"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Suddenly Charles was on his feet, too. It was going to go one of two ways, always did with Mad Max. Either Charles was going to be back on the bed, letting Max take out his aggression, or he was going to let out of there, let Max stew in his anger.

If it wasn't about Birdy, that sweet sweet girl, Charles would have been on his hands and knees, face pushed into the pillow.

But it was about Birdy.

Grabbing his things from the floor, Charles marched out of the hotel room. Max didn't know what he was saying, especially not about his Birdy. His Birdy, because nobody knew what they were saying, not when it came to her.

Even as he walked down the hall, barely dressed, the bite marks in his shoulder throbbing, he could hear Max. No doubt destroying the room, tearing it up. Mad Max. It was no full moon; it was pure anger. His usual outlet, winning races and being the fastest person alive, wasn't hitting it anymore. Because he wasn't the fastest person alive, and he fucking hated it.

Charles couldn't help but sigh as he walked into his room. This wasn't his Max, the one he had molded. Max, who was usually the kindest man in the room. That kindness born from a childhood full of abuse.

Just like Birdy, Charles thought. Max and Birdy, matching sides of two coins. And Charles was the other side of both those coins. She could be just as sweet as Max, he knew. She just needed a chance.

Charles wasn't speaking to him. Max watched him, watched from the Red Bull garage as Charles walked past him. Normally he was the last person there, first to leave. But he had gotten there early, just for a chance to speak to Charles.

But Charles wouldn't speak to him.

Eventually, Max gave up waiting for Charles to catch his eye, to come and speak to them. All he wanted was to make up for his mistakes, all he wanted was that chance. A chance Charles wasn't giving him.

He strode across the Red Bull garage, making his way to the Ferrari garage. "Charles," he called, and the Il Predestinato looked at him. He stepped closer and not close enough all that once. Close enough to keep it casual, too far away to show how he really felt.

"Charles, I want to apologise for last night," he said, trying to keep himself quiet, keep the words just between them.

Charles hadn't yet looked at him. He didn't turned towards Max when he spoke, didn't pay him any attention. Max's jaw twitched, but he didn't let it show on his face. "I was out of line, I know, and-"

"It's not me you need to apologise to."

Max stilled. Not me you need to apologise to. "Charlie, you can't be serious," Max whispered as he reached out to grab his arm. But Charles stepped out of reach. He looked past Max, looked across the garage.

Max looked too.

Birdy. That was the name Charles had given you. Beast was the name given to you by the rest of the motorsport world, the name Max knew you by. And you were a beast, vicious beast who had gone to attack Charles. You were dangerous, and you had made that perfectly clear.

Max steadied himself. He sucked in a breath and strode across the garage.

It was hard to see the sweetness that Charles saw in you, not with the muzzle covering your mouth and the shock collar around your neck. You hadn't noticed him yet, head bowed as your muzzle was taken off and your balaclava was given to you.

When your handler told you to put it on, you did so. Your helmet came next, acting as a replacement for the muzzle. You fastened it under your chin, head tipping back slightly.

And then you locked eyes with him.

Max Verstappen. Current World Champion, lead in this year's championship. He stood before you, looking awkward and uncomfortable all at once. You couldn't help but match his pose, looking just as awkward and uncomfortable. Your helmet managed to hide your expression, though.

"Hello," Max said, trying to get a look at your reaction. It was near impossible to get a read on you though, not with the helmet on. He looked back at Charles, watching the both of you.

He cleared his throat, attention back on you. You hadn't looked away from him. "Look," he began, his hands dropping. "I'm sorry for..." But what was he sorry for? For thinking that you were dangerous? That was the truth, wasn't it? You were dangerous.

"Okay, here's the thing. Charles is mad at me, so can we just pretend that we've had this big talk and I apologised for stuff?"

The way he looked at you, expecting something. You blinked at him. If he wanted to apologise, he could go ahead and do so. But this wasn't much of an apology.

"Come on, Beast-"

"Birdy."

It had surprised even you. The word left your lips so suddenly, your brows furrowing beneath your helmet. You didn't want to be a beast, not anymore.

Max stared at you, his blue eyes blown wide. "W-what?" He looked around, looking to see if anybody else had heard it. But everyone around the two of you was much too preoccupied with whatever they were doing. "Say it again, go on," he tried, but your lips were sealed.

Speaking out of turn.

Bad little wolves get punished of speaking out of turn.

You stumbled back, trying to get away from him. "Wait," he called, but you were gone, disappearing further into the garage.

Max desperately looked around for someone else that had heard you. But nobody else had. Birdy. The name Charles had given you. The fear had been so evident in your eyes the moment the name left your lips, he couldn't help the sadness that shot through him.

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world-of-aus · 6 hours ago

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Hot Shot

Pairing: NHL!Photographer!Reader x Hockey Player!Bucky

Warnings: Bucky being a heartthrob.

A/N: I've been reading one to many hockey romances and well here we are scratching an itch. I know I would like to eventually come out with a bigger story for these two but for now this is just the start a taste if you will. I'd like to leave this open to suggestion of what y'all would like to see or know about these two if anything.. Hope you enjoy the first taste.

You barely had a chance to unlock your screen to reply to her message before her caller ID

was taking up your screen, a recent photo of her and Steve that she had made as her contact picture pulling a smile onto your lips.

“Tasha.” you answer.

“Y/n, listen I know you were just planning on watching the game from the comfort of your living room but I mean talk about an upgrade! From a television screen to being at the actual game on the floor behind the safety of the glass getting some wicked shots, and no one captures action shots like you do - I promise I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” she tacks on her voice pleading.

You chuckle, you know had the circumstances been different she’d be one of the first ones at the arena, she hadn’t missed one of Steve’s games yet, not since you had been signed on. “Natasha relax, you know you don’t have to pull out the stops on me, I'll go - do you want me to send you the photos?”

The redhead turned blonde breathes a heavy sigh of relief, “oh god thank you! and if you don’t mind, but take your time, I’m sure a certain bruin's player is going to be demanding your attention after the game especially if they bag a win.” she teases seemingly mentioning the man in your DM’s.

Your cheeks warm, the unread notification from the player she speaks of appearing in your mind, “please Tasha,” you deflect, “it’s the game of the season he’ll have plenty of attention with all the puck bunnies sporting his name on their jersey throwing themselves at him for an inkling of his attention.” you murmur picking at an invisible speck of lint on your sweater as you stand from the couch, intent on getting your things packed to head out.

“And yet he only seems to want yours,” she sings, “you should totally wear the jersey I got you for your birthday.”

You roll your eyes smile pulling at your lips, “is your flight really delayed, do I have to text Steve?”

Your friend laughs, “unfortunately it is and hey thank you again for this, I owe you, love you, oh and send me a picture of Steve, one of you and Bucky too!”

You shake your head as your friend rushes out her farewell your screen now gone black as you look down at it “looks like pjs are out of the question for tonight” you murmur continuing on through your apartment to grab your things Bucky’s text still sitting in your messages unanswered.

He’d have his answer soon enough.

��🖤

The cool of the arena’s backstage floor seeps through your jeans, your tripod sitting off to the side, your camera nestled in your hands as you wait for the first few players of the bruins to make their arrival.

Your camera goes up; the first of the team to come through the backdoors is the Bruins coach Fury, he spots you smile on his face his hand coming up in a greeting as you get your first arrival shot of the day. Slowly players begin to trickle in, most of them spot you posing for you as they stride by, others walk by with a simple wave their heads already in the game.

Speaking of head in the game center Steve Rogers makes his way in, his suit pressed, duffle thrown over his shoulder as he owns the floor. “Looking good Rogers, say you wouldn’t have Natasha tucked away in that duffle by chance?” you tease grinning behind your camera. You laugh at the grin that breaks his lips, a shake of his head as he directs his gaze at you, “can assure you Natasha wouldn’t be packed in my bag, she’d be hanging on my arm.” You coo at the bearded blonde, “you think you can say that again I didn’t have my phone out.”

The two of you laugh as you capture a few more shots, “Come on Rogers leave some love for the rest of us, you already have your face glued on billboards!”

Left defenseman Sam Wilson is striding in next million dollar smile painted on his lips like the suit he wears on his skin. “But no one has their face printed on as many shirts like you do Wilson, now give me something new to look out for will ya, want to make sure these etsy sellers get only the best!” Wilson eats your words up, feeding the fans through your film. He comes closer kneeling to your level to pull you in for a hug, “it’s good to see you hot shot, thought you weren’t coming out tonight with how Barnes was moping.”

Your heart beats like a wild drum in your chest, “Tasha’s flight got delayed, cashed in her IOU, so here I am and surely your version of Barnes moping is different from mine.”

“Oh man you should of seen him, had to smack the phone out of his hands with how often he was checking it, you’re gonna join us tonight after the win right?”

“You Bruins are so sure about that win,” you laugh.

“That’s because it’s in the bag, hot shot.” It takes everything in you not to snap your eyes to the broad shoulder right defenseman sauntering into the building. “Here comes your boy.” Sam chuckles patting your shoulder as you find said man with your camera lens. You wanted to eat him up like he was eating at your film.

Like Sam Bucky strolls till he’s standing above you, grin pulling at his pink lips as he offers you his hand. You set your camera down gently against your chest before taking his offer, warmth seeping though you at your hand wrapped in his. “Thought you weren’t gonna show.” He murmurs watching you.

“Well as enticing as staying in my pjs on my couch with a glass of wine watching the game tonight sounded IOUs are a serious thing to cash in.” you say struggling to keep his gaze, you were certain you’d turn into a puddle of goo soon.

“More enticing then upgrading your lock screen?”

You let out a groan reaching out to smack his chest, but his hand captures yours instead keeping it there a teasing smile playing at his lips. “You’re never going to let that go are you?” you question recalling the night at the bar that he discovered himself as your lock screen. To be fair it was one of your favorite shots you had captured at the beginning of the seasons. It didn’t hurt that he was your favorite Bruin player to follow on and off the ice.

“Never, though I’m hoping by the end of the night ill see a photo of me after the win.” He chuckles thumb running over your hand.

“You’d have to secure a win first Barnes.”

Your breath catches in your chest as he closes the distance between the two of you, “I’ve already won though.”

Your reply is caught on your tongue, Fury voice breaking through the haze, “Barnes you’ll have time to catch up with y/n later get your ass in the lockers now!”

Bucky let’s your hand falling, chuckle brewing in his chest as he steps back, “hope you’re not watching Wilson or Rogers to closely tonight hotshot because this wins for you, and I’m going to be the one bringing it home.”

You watch him walk away, his gaze lingering on you till he disappears through the locker room.

And God how you hoped he would.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au

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artbymesa · 5 hours ago

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I was just gonna put this in the tags, but maybe this will help someone else to share my story if anyone else feels less alone. And it got long. I was a valedictorian in highschool. I would not recommend it.

Take it from me-- Do well in school, absolutely. Please try to do well in school. Please. But Do Not let it destroy your mental health the way I let it. I had a very unhealthy relationship with it and tied it to my self worth.

(Story time under read more if it helps anyone)

Oversharing time-- it was my priority in highschool. It was a goal I set for myself to prove I could do it, and if I didn't, I think I saw myself as a failure. This was mostly self imposed, and theres probably a psychological explanation for this I wont get into for the sake of length. But I thought if I could at least do this, I had something on paper that I could point to for myself in a sort of external self validation or worth. "I dont know what metric to gauge myself on, but at least I accomplished this". Call it a method of self soothing, I suppose.

It led to almost daily panic attacks that I could not publically control. The whole nine yards, too. It was exhausting and physically draining. If I were honest with me-- I isolated myself. More human contact, more going out with friends, more of me being the one to make the point of reaching out to other people would have made a world of a healthier difference. My focus might not have been so singular and borderline obsessive because it was the only thing i held onto. It put me in a horrible place mentally, and it has severely affected my adult life. I am still trying to unlearn the "if I mess up learning how to do this on the first try, i am a failure" when its like....just learning how to pipe icing on cupcakes or something. I tied my worth to my ability to learn, and that can become extremely unhealthy in a hurry. Especially when I already had mental health issues that were at odds with learning quickly-- like panic attacks that come on fast and wipe my memory and ability to think clearly. Its like I chose the hardest thing for my brain to do, and that was the metric I weighed my self worth on.

What I told myself at the time was some variation of "if I do this, i'll have the best chance at financial support or a full ride for college." That doing this means I will become self sufficient.

That's not how it works, and thats not how it worked.

I got a $1k grant, which was nice, but nowhere near the full ride or anything close to the "heavens of opportunity rain down upon me" sort of thing I had hoped for in my head.

Valedictorians make for good metrics for the school. Attendance records make for good records for the school. Not in any way saying kids SHOULDN'T try to do well in school (please for the love of god, we need every scrap of education we can get in this country), but please find a healthy medium too.

Doing well enough in school and not letting it destroy your mental health do not have to be mutually exclusive. A 3.5 is probably good enough. That was the cut off for one of my bigger transfer scholarships later down the road, transfering from one college to another. Nowhere did I have to continue maintaining a 4.0.

Besides. I didnt get a 4.0 by retaining functional information. I got it by gaming the system of how testing worked.

The example I use is a very dry history class in college I had. Our final exam was the culmination of all of our final tests. Same questions, same answers. I did not remember the content. I did not learn anything. What I did? I remembered the first three words of the question and the first three words of the answer, and remembered them by association. And then I forgot it all within the hour.

In the meantime, foster your friendships. Good friendships. This can create business connections in the future. Kindness and community will get the majority of people further in life than being any kind of top of your class, I promise you.

But most of all, be kind to yourself and treat yourself gently.

are you or have you ever been a straight-A student?

#valedictorian #tw anxiety #tw panic attack #tw perfectionism

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livinghalfway · 1 day ago

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Magic Mirror

Summary: A magic mirror shows what a person desires most in the world. It shows Damian his twin standing next to him. Word Count: 1202

“Come on Damian, all you have to do is stand in front of it.” Dick pleaded with him while gesturing for him to step closer to the magic mirror they had recently obtained from a villain’s lair.

It was a rather plain mirror as well for being a rare magical item; nothing but a full length mirror with a simple black frame. The only interesting thing about it was that it had the ability to show what a person desired most in life when they stood in front of it.

Once that little trick was discovered the others had quickly jumped at the chance to stand in front of it. Which was foolish in Damian’s opinion; allowing everyone in the room to view your deepest desire.

“Tt, I think not Richard; I after all already know what the mirror will show me.There is no point in me standing in front of it.”

Before Dick can continue his beseeching his case though Jason cuts in from across the room; next to the mirror. “Oh yeah? What do you think would show up, Demon brat; you dressed up as Batman?”

“He wishes,” Tim snickers next to Jason, “It’s probably gonna be something embarrassing and that’s why he doesn’t want to do it.”

"Drake, if you know what's good for you you'll stop talking!"

Tim gives Jason a nudge with his elbow before loudly whispering, "That sounds like a conformation if I've ever heard one."

"Tt, how dare-" Damian is quickly cut off from his incoming tirade by Dick jumping back into the conversation.

"Okay! Let's not start arguing with one another." Dick says to all of them before directing his focus towards him, "Damian, if you really don't want to try out the mirror you don't have too. No one is going to force you to."

Damian merely rolls his eyes as he walks towards the mirror. The only reason he does so is because being Robin is what he desires the most; he knows it. Looking into the mirror will merely be about proving Drake and Todd wrong. "I'll do it Richard if only to shut these two imbeciles up."

The moment he stood in front of the mirror waiting for the magic to change the reflection Damian knew that he shouldn't have let Tim and Jason get to him. He had done something foolish and there was no going back now as the mirror swirls with a gold shimmer.

When the distorted image clears once more Damian swears he feels his heart stop. The reflection shown is not one a million years could have prepared him for. It is not him standing at his father's side, Batman and Robin, as he thought it would have been.

Instead it shows Damian exactly as he is at the moment. He would almost think the mirror didn't change anything if it weren't for the boy in the mirror standing next to him. Even after all these years it was someone he would never be able to forget.

His twin brother, Danyal, and him standing side by side once more. While Damian stands rigid and shocked, Danyal's posture is relaxed. He's even smiling as he leaning towards him until their shoulders touch in the reflection.

He doesn't feel it though; he wants to feel it.

All of a sudden it hits Damian that this is what he desires the most out of everything in the world. The only thing he wants is for his brother to be alive and with him at the manor. With the family Danyal not got the chance to know; the family that doesn't even know he exists.

In the blink of an eye the magical gold swirls take over the mirror once more, and when it clears it is once again just himself looking back at him.

After what must be an eternity of staring at the mirror Damian realizes that everything around him is too quiet. He snaps his head to the side where his brothers are, and sees the three of them staring back at him. All of them are in varying degrees of shock and curiosity at what they had just seen.

He considers lying at first. Saying that he had no idea who the boy was. He can't find it in himself to do that though. Damian had kept his brother a secret long enough; maybe it would be good for the others to know. "That Richard was my twin brother; Danyal."

With those words Damian practically collapses on the nearest chair; feeling drained and exhausted. The others follow suit as they too take seats next to him.

"Danyal … Danyal was kind. He understood people much more than I ever will." He takes a deep breath, "He was smart and curious. Always asking questions and wanting to understand everything around him. It was always the stars that fascinated him the most."

"Sounds like a good kid," Jason starts, "must have gotten all the friendly genes in the womb."

"For once I think I agree with you, Todd."

The silence that follows is thick and suffocating. It is luckily broken after a few seconds by Tim's hesitant question, "What happened to him?"

That was the big question wasn't it? What happened to Danyal; to the twin and brother that wasn't with him when he arrived at the manor?

"Danyal … died a couple years before I came here. The two of us were attacked by a group of rogue assassins after our study lessons." Damian swallows, his throat feels tight, "I wasn't as focused as I should have been, and Danyal ended up taking a fetal hit meant for me."

"Damian-"

"Let me finish, Richard." He snaps. He doesn't think he would be able to finish if otherwise interrupted. "Danyal was dead by the time he was finally brought to the pits. I knew there was a chance it wouldn't work, but I didn't think it would take him completely. His body was never recovered from the pits.I never got to bury my brother."

It's when his vision starts to blur that Damian realizes that he's crying. Danyal always did have a way of making Damian show emotions that he would rather keep hidden.

He feels himself being pulled into a chest, and for now he doesn't fight against it. Damian's not sure if he honestly could at the moment.

“Father doesn’t know about this.” Damian continues after a few minutes of silently sobbing in Dick’s arms.

“He needs to know.” Tim states, “Maybe not today, but soon.”

“You tell him when you’re ready, short stack. The old man can deal with not being told right away.” Jason reassures him when he doesn’t answer Tim right away.

"What am I not being told?" Damian feels as if he's been dunked in water when he realizes that his Father had heard the end of their conversation.

"Father."

"Damian?" Bruce takes in his youngest son's appearance and it doesn't take a genius to know that he's in some kind of emotional distress.Which in of itself is very rare for him to be in.

"Father, please take a seat. There is something I need to tell you."

#dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #danny phantom #angst #batfam #damian wayne #Damian and Danny are twins

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tinylilacbun · 3 days ago

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Reader is sick and whiny and begging for Jj while he’s at home so her parents ring him asking him to come over to put her to bed

"Come on, sweetie, you gotta sleep a bit." Your mother tries to soothe you but you only sniffle, pushing the bed covers from your body again, making her sigh.

"Wan' JJ." You whine, rubbing your eyes in frustration, little coughs coming out of your mouth and you whimper from how sore your throat is.

"You saw him just a few hours ago. He's at his own home now, baby." She tries to reason with you, rubbing your back only for you to shuffle away and bury your face in your pillow with a sob.

Your mother bites her lip, taking out her phone and fumbling with it in thought, hesitating to call JJ. The boy already jumps anytime your parents call him and they don't want to bother him this late.

Not being able to take in your pitiful sobs your mother leans down to kiss your head, frowning at how hot you are. "I'll be right back, yea?"

You only hiccup in response, pressing your bunny lovey to your face as she gets up and into the hallway, lifting her phone to her ear, waiting patiently.

She sighs in relief when her only chance of a peaceful night picks up. "JJ? I'm really sorry for bothering you this late."

"Oh, no, it's fine. Everything okay with the princess?" JJ asks, shushing his friends. The concern in his tone was evident, knowing from the nasty fever you're running right now.

"Not really, she um...she doesn't want to take her medicine and go to sleep. She's asking for you and I'm-" Your mother starts and he's on his feet in an instant.

"I'll be there in 10 minutes." He says as he snaps his fingers at John b to hand him the keys for the Twinkie.

"I can't thank you enough. You'll get something extra of course."

"Nah, it's fine-" JJ turns down the offer. JJ Maybank just turned down money.

"I insist." She interrupts him, hanging up before he could interject, thanking the stars for his existence.

You're still crying, your throat burning with each cough and your head hurting from all the sniffling you did today thanks to your runny nose.

"Heard someone doesn't want to sleep?" JJ's voice has you instantly lifting your head, a new round of tears filling your eyes as he approaches your pink plush bed with his hands on his hips, sitting down by your side. "Whoa, hey, what's with all the tears, huh?"

You shuffle on your knees closer to him, lifting your arms and he places hands under your armpits, hoisting you onto his lap.

"There, there, I gotcha." He murmurs, rocking you back and forth until he's certain your tears have stopped. "I know it's icky and I totally get you, but you should take your medicine, yea?"

You let out a small whine, grasping onto his shirt with your small hands. "No wanna..."

"Hm, not even for me?" He asks and you stay silent for a moment. "No? You hurt me, cupcake. And here I planned on taking you to the beach and teaching you how to surf when you're all healthy again."

You pull your face from his chest, pouting at him. "Wanna go t'beach..."

"Then you gotta take your medicine, I'll take it too, okay?" He offers and you nod, watching him grab the cup that's already waiting on your nightstand and gulp it in one go, refraining from grimacing so you would take the medicine. "See, not so bad."

He prepares the cup again for your turn and holds it to your lips, smiling when you swallow everything. "That's my princess. Proud of ya."

You smile at him, snuggling back against his chest, feeling him wrap both his arms around your small frame. At some point he can feel your body sag against him and he smiles, carefully moving you to lay you back on your bed and tucking your lovey under your arm before he covers you with your blanket.

He runs a hand through your hair. "Sleep well..." He whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your head and sees how you snuggle your bunny in response.

Taglist

For everything:

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For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

#little kook princess au #babysitter!jj maybank drabble #toddler!reader

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larluce · 1 day ago

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Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU (SERIES 2)

FIRST PART (SERIES 1) >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

Gwaine: (turns to Merlin and smirks) Do I know you, sweetheart? 😏

Merlin: (thinking) Shit! I'm not supposed to know him yet! (says) Uh...

Kendrick: You should get out of here while you have the chance.

Gwaine: You're probably right. (pretends he turns to leave, but suddenly hits a bandit in the head with a rock he picked up before and quickly takes his sword)

More bandits appear from behind the trees and the fight breaks out. Lancelot fights two bandits and Gwaine fight two more. Merlin disarms some with his magic and Morgana picks one of the fallen swords and fights one bandit. Another bandit, however, grabs her by the waist from behind.

Bandit x: I have her-Argh!(suddenly goes limp and falls)

Gwen: (who just stabbed him with her dague from behind) Oh, no you don't!

Bandit y: (grabs her wrist and twists her arm to make her drop the dague, making her cry in pain) You bitch!

Morgana: Gwen!

Lancelot: (turns) Gwen! (wants to go to her but the two bandits he's fighting won't let him)

Morgana: (about to slay bandit y with her sword)

Bandit y: (puts Gwen infront of him) Think twice, my lady.

Merlin: (whispers) Ga on wuda! (his eyes glow and the horses shy and run off)

Bandit y: (lets go of Gwen to sidestep one of the horses)

Lancelot: (who just finished to slay the bandits he was fighting, runs to Gwen and holds her by the waist with one arm lifting her a bit and slays bandit y with the sword in his other arm) Gwen! (To Morgana) My lady! Stay close to me! (puts Gwen down and keeps fighting the bandits that aproaches)

Gwaine: (looking what Lancelot did, thinking) Interesting movement. (turns and spots Merlin)

Merlin: (making bandits trip with his magic, about to do the same with a bandit that is aproaching him)

Gwaine: My lady! (runs to Merlin and holds him by the waist with one arm and fights with his free arm like Lancelot did, though he can't lift Merlin for long cause he's heavy for a lady)

Merlin: (trying to free from his hold, shouts) What are you doing?! 😡(thinking) You are distracting me!

Gwaine: (while fighting a bandit with difficulty) I'm protecting you!

Merlin: You can do it without holding me! 😡 Let go-(notices Gwaine's hand is almost over his breast and shriks loudly in panic cause he put some socks there so his chest weren't so flat and doesn't want to be discovered)

Gwaine: (thinking he offended "Merelyn", lets go of her inmediatly) Oh, I'm so sorry, my- (fights the bandit) My lady! (slays the bandit and starts fighting another)

Merlin: (steps away from Gwaine and looks around, thinking) Almost all the bandits are dead, Gwaine and Lancelot are fighting the last two ones. I think they can manage, but I'll keep watching just in case...wait, where's the leader?

Kendrick: (grabs Merlin from behind unexpectedly and puts a sword at his throat) Stop right there!

Lancelot: (just finished to slay the bandit he was fighting) Merlin! (about to go to him)

Gwaine: (just finished to slay the bandit he was fighting too) My lady! (about to go to him too)

Kendrick: (holds the sword closer to Merlin's throat) Stop I said!

Lancelot and Gwaine: (freeze)

Merlin: (sighs, thinking) Perfect.

Kendrick: Put down your weapons. Now! if you value your lady's life!

Lancelot: (warnly) If you value YOUR life, you'll let Lady Merelyn go this instant. That's the Prince's lo-ward you're holding.

Kendrick: The weapons!

Lancelot and Gwaine: (about to put down their weapons)

Merlin: (shouts) Don't! He just lost all his men, he knows he's doomed.

Kendrick: Silence!

Merlin: Or what? You are going to kill me? You need me to escape, you asshole.

Kendrick: Oh, so the Prince's ward is not scared.

Merlin: You mean I'm not shitting my pants like you? No, i'm not.

Kendrick: Confident in your Prince's protection I see. Well, let's see if he still wants you as his ward once he learns you are tainted! (lifts his hand and touches Merelyn's breast)

Merlin: (pales)

Morgana and Gwen: (gasp and bring their hands to their mouths, scandalised)

Lancelot and Gwaine: 😨😨!!😡😡

Kendrick: (frowns, confused at the texture) Wait, this is not-Argh! (shouts in pain due to an arrow that was shot at his shoulder and lets go of Merlin)

Merlin: (pushes him in anger and Kendrick falls to the ground) You animal! 😠(brings his hands to his breast checking they are still in place)

Percival: (comes out from behind a tree with a crossbow)

Merlin: (whispers to himself) Percival?! 😧

Gwaine: (kicks Kendrick who is still in pain on the ground and shouts at Percival) You're late.

Percival: (shouts back as he aproaches) It's not easy to aid a whole lot of injured knights.

Merlin: (thinking) They already know each other? How is that possible?

Lancelot: (goes to kick Kendrick too)

Kendrick: (screams in more pain)

Merlin: (surprised) Lancelot! Since when are you so violent?

Lancelot: He humilliated you! 😠 (kicks Kendrick again)

Merlin: (confused) What?

Gwen: (whispers at Merlin) Touching a lady like that in public is a grave act. He basically took your honor.

Morgana: (whispers) And, since you are Arthur's "ward" he also humilliated the Prince of Camelot through you.

Merlin: (whispers back) But I'm not really a lady!

Morgana: Well, the bandit leader didn't know that.

Gwen: (giggles) And apparently for Lancelot the intention is enough.

Lancelot, Gwaine and Percival: (keep kicking Kendrick)

Morgana: (goes to them) Alright, that's enough. You are better men than him and we still need to bring him to justice.

Kendrick: (all injured, manages to point Merlin) You... that THING is NOT a lady... You are-

Morgana: (kicks him in the head to stop him from revealing Merlin's identity and Kendrick falls unconcious) How dare you insult my friend, you monster! (composes herself) Lancelot, tie him and gag him. I don't think we need to hear more of his vulgarity.

Lancelot: Yes, my lady.

It's not difficult to find ropes, as expected, the bandits brought some with them. Percival carries an unconcious Kendrick as they walk back to the place of the ambush. Just a few knights survived and they are severily injured. Merlin wants to attend them, but he's not supposed to know how to. He's not a physician apprentice here and healing spells are still hard for him. Percival, Gwaine and Lancelot manage to find a couple of horses and a cart to transport the injured men. Morgana and Gwen ride the horses and Percival, Gwaine, Lancelot and Merlin go by foot in their way back to Camelot.

Merlin: (thinking, while looking at Gwaine and Percival longingly) I missed them so much! I thought I'd have to wait more before I got to see them again. I wonder how their lifes are here. How they lifes would've been if the sidhes hadn't trick me. Did they survive Camlann? Would they have mourned me if I had died or would they have been relieved it was me instead of Arthur? Would they have missed me as much as I miss them?

Gwaine: (notices Merlin's eyes on him) Looking something you like? 😏

Merlin: (looks away quickly, embarrased, and, since his feet are hurting, he takes off his shoes. Surprisingly, the feeling of the grass, rocks and soil under his feet brings him relief rather than pain)

Gwaine: I'm sure we can still find a horse for you, my lady. (smirks) Or I can lift you in my arms.

Merlin: My legs work more than fine, thank you.

Gwaine: Oh, I bet they do.

Lancelot: (thinking) He's playing with fire.

Gwaine: So... when is that we met, my lady? I don't recall meeting such a beatiful woman.

Lancelot: (thinking) Dead, he's dead.

Merlin: Then what makes you think we met?

Gwaine: You said my name.

Merlin: When?

Gwaine: When I came to your rescue. You shouted my name.

Merlin: Really? I don't recall that (turns to Lancelot) Did I do that, Lancelot?

Lancelot: No, my lady.

Gwaine: She did! (to Morgana and Gwen) You heard her, right? She called out "Gwaine" very loudly.

Morgana: Uhm... I don't remember that. (turns to Gwen) Do you, Gwen?

Gwen: Not really.

Gwaine: (turns to Percival)

Percival: Don't look at me, I wasn't there.

Gwaine: (totally gaslighted) I was sure she did. (shakes his head) Well, let me present myself then. My name is Gwaine. (holds her hand) At your service (about to kiss his hand)

Merlin: (pulls his hand away) You seem to have some manners (looks him up and down) for a lowly peasant.

Morgana and Gwen: (hold back a laugh very poorly)

Merlin: Why did you help us, Gwaine? (stresses the name)

Gwaine: Well, your chances looked between slim and none. I guess I just kind of like the look of those odds.

Percival: Yeah, it had nothing to do with 3 pretty ladies being involved.

Gwaine: (glares at Percival)

Merlin: (giggles) Thank you, whatever your reasons were. I'm sure the King himself will want to thank you in person.

Gwaine: Please, no! I met a few kings. Once you've met one you met them all.

Merlin: Not even to get a reward?

Gwaine: I'm not looking for that.

Merlin: Oh, so you are scorting us out of the goodness of your desinterested heart?

Gwaine: Rather my heart is very interested in you.😏

Merlin: (mouthopen)

Morgana and Gwen: (Just as mouthopen, look at each other and look back at them)

Lancelot: (genuinely fearing for Gwaine's life) You can't talk to Lady Merelyn like that.

Gwaine: What are you? His husband?

Lancelot: No, but she's the Prince's ward.

Gwaine: She has a guardian. So? It's not like she's engaged. (turns to Merlin) Or are you, my lady?

Merlin: (thoughtful, because, while he is with Arthur, since they are both men they can't really be "engaged") Well... technically I'm not. 🤔

Lancelot: (whispers) Merlin!

Gwaine: See? Let her decide who she receives attentions from. She's not a little girl. In fact (looks at Merlin) She is quite a woman. 😏

Lancelot: (shouts) She is the Prince's misstress!

Morgana and Gwen: (scold) Lancelot! 😠😠

Merlin: (crosses his arms) Technically is true, but it sounds offensive when you say it like that, Lancelot.

Lancelot: (embarrased) I'm sorry. I didn't want to say it, but he forced me to say it.

Gwaine: (burst out laughing)

Everyone else: (stare at him)

Lancelot: What's so funny?

Gwaine: Nothing, it's just that I heard all these tales about The Prince of Camelot being this young man full of talents, fair and honorable. Too good to be true and now I know why. It's obvious that all that reputation was created to hide how corrupt and debauchee he really is. At the end, royalty is royalty.

Merlin: (slaps Gwaine hard in the face)

Morgana and Gwen: 😨😨

Lancelot and Percival: 😨😨

Kendrick on Percival's shoulder: 😴

Gwaine: (brings a hand to his face just as shocked) What was that for?!

Merlin: (furious) How dare you insult Arthur like that! He is a very honorable man! More than all his cavalry conbined!

Gwaine: (now angry too) What kind of honorable man has a misstress? If he really was that honorable he would take you as his wife rather than put you in this position!

Merlin: You don't know him. Nor our story or our circunstances. You have no right to judge him or question our relationship!

Gwaine: (in disbelief) Relationship?! (pauses as he realises Merlin is serious) Don't tell me... For all the gods above, you actually believe it! I thought you were with him just for the benefits, but you did buy all his words. You actually think he loves you. (Lets out a dry laugh) I believed you more intelligent, my lady.

Merlin: He does love me. Not only that, Arthur repects me and gives me my place.

Gwaine: Oh, please! What place? Is there a place at court for the prince's "official mistress"? Open your eyes! Princes only play with women. Some are smart enough to take advantage of the situation and others (points at Merlin) are SO stupid that they don't see reality and believe that their relationship is about love. But you know what the reality is? That your beloved prince would never give you something serious, much less any kind of commitment!

Merlin: Oh, and you would?

Gwaine: I would treat you with more honor than he does.

Merlin: Really? (looking him right in the eye, defiant) You would give me commitment?

Gwaine: Yes!

Merlin: (extends a hand) Where's my ring?

Morgana and Gwen: 😱😱

Lancelot and Percival: 😱😱

Kendrick: 😴

Gwaine: (scared-of-marriage-Gwaine pales and frezzes)

Merlin: (pulls away his hand) It's easy to talk when you are not the one being criticized, isn't it? Don't compare my Prince with other royals. Arthur is unlike anyone you've ever known before. He is a man of his word and I trust him. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you tarnish his name or discredit him. And maybe you should look at a mirror first before you criticize. At least my Arthur is not a hypocrite and does not judge people without first knowing them. (gets closer to Gwaine, threateningly) If you dare to badmouth him again, I'll end you.(walks away from Gwaine and walks beside Lancelot)

Gwen: (whispering to herself, amazed) Wow... he never once broke character.

Morgana: (looks at Merlin, emotional) Acting like a queen already. I'm so proud!

Percival: (to Gwaine, chuckling) Damn, she destroyed you.

Gwaine: (feeling very insulted) How dare she...I'm better than that prince. I am!

Percival: So you will give her a ring?

Gwaine: ...

Kendrick: (open his eyes and start struggling and screaming behind his gag)

Gwaine: (knocks him out again with a rock, still angry)

Time skip. They arrive at the castle at dusk, just when Arthur was about to go with a search party to look for them. They encounter Arthur and his knights at the castle's entrance. Arthur is so relieved to see Merlin, Morgana and Gwen safe, he almost doesn't notice Gwaine and Percival's presence and when he does, he manages to hide his surprise at seeing them there. The injured knights are promptly send to Gaius.

Arthur: (worried still because they are in quite a state) What happened?

Morgana: (gets of her horse) We were ambushed by bandits.

Lancelot: We believe they wanted to capture Lady Morgana for ransom, Sire.

Gwen: (gets off her horse) They almost did. But these men (points Gwaine and Percival) and Lancelot saved us, Sire.

Percival: (drops Kendrick to the floor) Here's the leader.

Kendrick: 😵‍💫

Percival: The rest are dead.

Merlin: (who's been keeping his head down so the knights don't recognise him, runs to Arthur and hugs him)

Knights: ...

Leon: (dissapointed look)

Arthur: (hugs Merlin back, smiling) You missed me so much?

Merlin: (whispers) Hide me.

Arthur: (confused) What?

Merlin: (whispers more urgently) Hide me! Get me out of here, get me out of here!

Arthur: (understands Merlin doesn't want to be discover) Alright. (picks Merlin up bridal style, hiding Merlin's face in the crook of his neck)

Merlin: (thinking) What is this dollophead doing?! 😳😱

Arthur: (to the knights) Lady Merelyn is quite indisposed, I'll take her to rest. Arrest the bandit and take these men and Lady Morgana to the King immediately. He'll want to learn what happened. I'll accompany you in a moment.

Knights: Yes, Sire.

Arthur: (leaves carring Merlin)

Gwaine: (Who hasn't stopped looking Arthur and Merlin since they arrived, thinking) So this is the "honorable" prince, uh?

Percival: (to the knights, before they scort them to the king) Actually, we were already leaving-

Gwaine: Nonsense! We can make time for the king.

Percival: (confused) I thought you didn't want to meet the king

Gwaine: I changed my mind. It wouldn't hurt us to have some money with us.

Percival: Yeah, I'm sure money is what is motivating you. 😒

Meanwhile. In the Prince's chambers.

Arthur: (enters with Merlin in his arms)

Merlin: (gets off his arms abruptly) Couldn't you have been more discret?

Arthur: I'm the prince. There's no way I could get you out of there discretly.

Merlin: But you didn't have to make a show either! (sighs and takes off his wig) Ow! How many clips did Gwen use? (lifts the wig) Look! Is all battered! (puts it aside)

Arthur: Merlin-

Merlin: And I'm sweaty and stinky. How do women manage to not sweat and stink when they wear capes and capes of clothes everyday?!

Arthur: Merlin-

Merlin: And my make up! (touches his face and looks at his fingers) It's all smeared now! I must look horrible-

Arthur: (raises his voice) Merlin!

Merlin: (turns to him) What?!

Arthur: (comes close to him and holds him by the waist, smiling) I missed you.

Merlin: (softens his expression and smiles back, wraping his arms around his neck) I missed you too.

Arthur and Merlin: (kiss)

Arthur: (deepens the kiss and pulls Merlin closer)

Merlin: (pulls away a bit) You are not like this just because I'm dressed as a woman, right?

Arthur: No.

Merlin: 😒

Arthur: Okay, maybe a bit. You do look hot in that dress. But it's mostly because I missed you.

Merlin: I was out for less than a day.

Arthur: Enough time!

Merlin: (rolls his eyes, but he's actually very touched, cause he doesn't recall Arthur missing him like this in his other life and it feels nice) You are such a drama Prince. (kisses him)

Arthur: (kisses back)

Merlin: (pulls away) Wait, aren't you supposed to be joining Morgana in the audience with the king?

Arthur: They can start without me. (about to kiss him again)

Merlin: (stops him) Arthur, the King's ward was almost kidnapped. This is important. Go.

Arthur: But-

Merlin: Now.

Arthur: (sighs) Fine. (lets go of Merlin) But you go nowhere.

Merlin: (in very soft and light tone, playfully) Where else could I be?

Arthur: (stares at him, thinking) No wonder he could play the Dolma so well.

Merlin: Arthur!

Arthur: Alright, alright, I'm leaving! (turns to leave, but suddenly turns back to give Merlin a quick peck on the lips and runs outside)

Merlin: Clotpole (but he's blushing and smiling as he says it)

Time skip, in the throne room. Uther sitting on the throne with Arthur sit at his side and Morgana sit at the other, Gwen standing beside her. The rest, Lancelot, Gwaine and Percival stand before the king.

Uther: I can thank you enough for saving my ward. (holds Morgana's hand) She's like a daughter to me.

Gwaine: (thinking) Thank gods, I was starting to think he also had his ward as his misstress.

Uther: (looks at Lancelot) I do recognise you. You work at the stables. (thinking) and you are the man my son arrested out of jealousy. (says) What were you doing there... and dress as a knight.

Gwaine and Percival: (look at Lancelot and then at each other very surprised, thinking the same) He is not a knight?!

Lancelot: (nervous) Uh.. well...

Morgana: I allowed him to come, my lord, since my maidservant is his intended and he knows how to calm the horses. After he fought the bandits his clothes were in very bad state so I ordered him to wear one of the fallen knights armor, just in case we were ambushed again.

Uther: (looks around) Couldn't one of the actual survival knights come?

Arthur: They are still in a pretty bad state, Sire. Gaius is not even sure they are going to make it.

Uther: I need a report of what exactly happened.

Lancelot: I could tell you what-

Uther: Did I tell you you could speak? Silence!

Lancelot: (cowers in place)

Morgana: My lord, since the other knights are not available, I think it would be wise to here what Lancelot has to say.

Uther: (sighs) Alright. (to Lancelot) Speak. And don't omit any details. I want to know everything.

Lancelot: Of course, Sire.

Gwaine: (thinking) Typical, even when we saved his ward, we are not trustworthy unless you are nobelty.

So Lancelot tells everything. How he manage to get Lady Morgana, Gwen and Lady Merelyn out when they were first ambushed. How, despite that, they were sorrounded by Kendrick and his men later and how Gwaine appear to help and then Percival. As he was ordered, Lancelot doesn't omit any detail, nor Kendrick lascive words directed at the girls and nor how he humilliated Lady Merelyn before Percival shot an arrow at him.

Uther: Where is this Lady Merelyn?

Morgana: After such humilliation, I think you can understand why she didn't want to be present, my lord.

Uther: I see... Poor girl. I'll give her a compensation.

Arthur: (livid, stands up abruptly and leaves)

Gwain: (looking Arthur's reaction, thinking) Uuuuh. He didn't know.

Uther: (doesn't even acknowledge Arthur's behaviour because by this point he's used to his son sudden moods) You saved my ward's life so a debt must be repaid.

Lancelot: Oh, there's no need-

Gwaine: (nudges him, whispering) Shut up!

Uther: This merits something quite especial, so I'll let you choose how you want to be rewarded. As long as it is within reason, I'll grant it.

Percival: Well, your majesty, that's a very generous offer, but the only think we want is-

Gwaine: To think about it careful before giving you an answer, Sire.

Percival: (looks at Gwaine strangely, but supports him anyway) If it's not too much to ask, of course, Sire.

Uther: (to Lancelot) Is that your wish too, stable boy?

Lancelot: (thinks for a second before answering) Yes, Sire.

Uther: Alright, I'll give you 3 days. (to Lancelot) Give these men a place to stay meanwhile.

Lancelot: Yes, Sire. (bows and leaves)

Gwaine and Percival: (follow him a few steps behind)

Percival: (whispering to Gwaine) What are you planning to do?

Gwaine: (innocent look) I'm not planning to do anything.

Percival: You didn't ask for gold.

Gwaine: My dear friend, there are things in life that are more valuable than gold.

Meanwhile. At the Prince's chambers.

Merlin: (fighting with the laces of the dress) Come on, come on!

Arthur: (enters)

Merlin: Oh, thank the gods you're here! Arthur, can you-

Arthur: Why didn't you tell me?! 😡

Merlin: (confused) Tell you what?

Arthur: What that bandit did to you!

Merlin: (still not knowing what he's referring to) We were ambushed. We told you that.

Arthur: I'm talking about what he did to YOU specifically. When he... touched you!

Merlin: (finally gets it) Oooh, that! (laughs) It's kinda funny now that I remember it.

Arthur: Funny?! HE HUMILIATED YOU! 😡

Merlin: He would have if I was a lady, which i'm not.

Arthur: But that was his intention! To tarnish your honor!

Merlin: Seriously, what's with you knights and your obsession with honor?

Arthur: (not listening) As if threaten your life and trying to kidnap you wasn't enough he had the audacity-

Merlin: I mean, I could've easily escaped with magic later-

Arthur: I'll make him pay for this! Nobody can touch you like that and go unpunished-

Merlin: He didn't really touch me, I have no-

Arthur: I'll make him be whipped in public. No, that's not enough. I'll make him-

Merlin: (exasperated, takes Arthur's hands and puts them on his "breast", shouting) ARTHUR, THEY ARE NOT REAL!

Arthur: ...

Merlin: ...

Arthur: (coughs) Uhm... you're right. (touching) What is this?

Merlin: (pulls out a couple of socks from his breast)

Arthur: You had those all day? (pauses) Wait, why are you still in a dress?

Merlin: (whining) 😟 I can't take it off! 😫

Arthur: Use your magic.

Merlin: I already tried. Look (his eyes glow, making his dress shine for a moment, but nothing else happens) It still doesn't want to come off.🥺😭

Arthur: (a bit worried) How is that possible? You've done more complicated things with your magic.

Merlin: I don't know! Though I have a couple of theories.

Arthur: Which are?

Merlin: Well, maybe for my magic to be able to fulfil a task, it needs to have the knowledge of how to do said task and since I don't actually know how do women put on and off their complicated garments everyday, my magic doesn't know how to do it either.

Arthur: It could be... and the other?

Merlin: Uh?

Arthur: The other theory. You said you had a couple of theories. What's the other?

Merlin: (blushes) Uhm... well... maybe... (blushes more)

Arthur: What?

Merlin: Maybe it's because... my magic... got... attached to the dress?

Arthur: (pauses and then smirks) You love being dress as a woman, Merlin?

Merlin: (doesn't want to admit it) It's not... totally unpleasant. (sighs, exhausted) But I really need to take this off. Please, help me. 🥺

Arthur: (laughs softly and puts himself behind Merlin to untie the laces) Lets see. It can't be that difficult.

3 doritos later.

Arthur: (struggling with the laces) What the hell is wrong with these?! 😠

Merlin: Ow! You are tightening it more! 😫

Arthur: I got this, relax.

Merlin: You've been saying that for the last 10 minutes! 😠

Arthur: You know what? Fuck it (takes a blade and cuts all the laces in one movement)

Merlin: Finally! (takes the dress off in relief without thinking, revealing he's wearing a corset and a chemise under it)

Arthur: (Arthur exe has stopped working again)

Merlin: (blushing furiously, thinking) Stupid, stupid, stupid, you should have waited till you were alone in your room!

Arthur: (still quite in shock) You are... wearing... female undergarments.

Merlin: (avoiding his eyes at all cost) Yeah... Morgana insisted. (thinking) Please earth swallow me and spit me elsewhere!

Arthur: (thinking) Morgana, you are the best, I love you!

Merlin: I'll... take the rest off myself in my room. (about to leave, very embarrased)

Arthur: (stops him by the wrist)

Merlin: (confused) Arthur? (turns and finally looks at him)

Arthur: (eyes dilated and a low voice, pulls Merlin closer) You know that thing barely covers you?

Merlin: Wh-what? (realises)... Oh! 😳

Merlin was more focus on the "female" rather than the "undergarments" part, that he didn't realise he was almost naked! And in front of Arthur!

From the both of them, Arthur is always the one who shows more skin, with the laces of his shirt lose and rolled up sleeves, and sometimes even shirtless. And, while dressing Arthur still makes his cheeks rose and his heart race, he's quite used to it already. Merlin, however, is dress to the neck most of the time, barely showing skin. Merlin doesn't recall a single time Arthur has seen him without a shirt in his other life. And in this life Arthur has only seen him without a shirt once and that was only because he was injured.

And now Arthur is watching him wearing a garment that has no sleeves and barely reached his knees. A garment that is white, somewhat traslucid and tight against his body because it isn't his size.

Though Merlin doesn't doubt Arthur's feelings for him (not anymore at least) he wasn't completely sure Arthur wanted him. Everytime they snog, Arthur always touches over his clothes, kisses his neck, his jaw, besides the lips. But other than that, he never goes farther. Merlin gets that, with his prince education and all, Arthur is probably just being respectful of him. Which Merlin appreciates, truly, but sometimes it also makes him a bit insecure. It got him thinking "maybe he doesn't want me as much as I want him" or "Maybe he still has a conflict about being intimate with a man that way". Then Merlin would facepalm himself and think "Or maybe he just isn't ready for that step yet".

But now Merlin can see it. The arouse, the desire in the way Arthur holds his wrist, in the way the blue of his eyes are almost gone and his pupils so wide, in the way his Adam's apple jiggles and his breathing unevens. Arthur wants him. His dear Prince was just holding back all this time.

He isn't going to let him hold back anymore.

They look at each other for what seems an eternity. Tension heavy in the air.

Arthur: (Coughs and lets go of Merlin, trying to compose himself) Sorry... go change. I... I'll wait for you. (steps away)

Merlin: (holds his hand before he can go far)

Arthur: ... Merlin?

Merlin: (seductively) I still need help with this. (puts Arthur's hand on the corset)

Arthur: (swallows hard) I... I need.. the knife.

Merlin: (smiling) Eager to rip all my clothes?

Arthur: Yes...I mean, no!

Merlin: (laughs softly) I guess I can help a bit. (his eyes glow and the laces untie and get lose) There. Take it off.

Arthur: (does it slowly, like in a trance or a very sacred ritual, and, when he finishes, his hands stay on Merlin's waist, eyes tracing all Merlin's figure)

Merlin: (shivering, nervous but also excited, because this is finally happening! and he's so scared but so sure at the same time) Just... one more garment to go.

Arthur: (locks eyes with him. Eyes full of desire, but also a bit of concern) Are you sure? Because if you are not ready-

Merlin: I am! I want this. If you want it too.

Arthur: (holds Merlin closer) I wanted this for a long time.

Merlin: (whispers in his ear) Then what are you waiting for?

Arthur: (kisses him, hungrily)

That night both time travelers had their first time.

...

I may or may not write the smut of their first time together for the next part, depending if I'm actually able to write it 😅 (smut is not my strong point). Also while technically "Lancelot and Guinevere" ends here (they defeated the bandits and all) there'll be more parts till we get to the events of the next chapter. Said parts involve Arthur's jealous reaction to certain things certain person Gwaine did or will do? And more DRAMA!

Gwaine and Percival ☑︎

Gwaine brazenly flirting with Merlin ☑︎

Merlin in a pretty dress ☑︎

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @starrieisdelusional , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @curiously-lazy , @harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @bogslob , @braziiis , @rubinaitoart , @thebigoblin , @toomanyfanficsbruh , @farmboyprince , @nonsensefunsense , @slightly-psycho-multifan , @jxmimac , @anarchelsworld , @beepbeep-yeah , @faithiikins

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin #merthur #merlin prompt #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #merlin and arthur #arthur and merlin #merthur fic #merthur fanfiction #merthur fanfic #merthur prompt #Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

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disco-wyrm · 2 days ago

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Honestly, only @cipherbunz would know who any of these OCs are, but it looked fun to do :P if you wanna know more about them, feel free to ask, i will gladly wordvomit about them <3

tw: torture, physical & emotional ab*se, mental health issues and death.

1. I don't really have one in particular for this one? If I had to choose, it'd probably be Swan. She's a tough lady, but she's just not built for deserts and hot environments.

2. Nobu, the man doesn't really even notice most of them anyway. Could definitely see him with a couple injuries he hasn't even noticed/doesn't think they're that much of an issue. Downsides of a really good pain tolerance, I guess?

3. Maverick. Hands down, that poor bastard's been through so much lol. His fiancée gets killed by his own father, his clan is destroyed, he gets dragged into TWO wars, experimented on, and then isolates himself because he's afraid of entering cities for reasons he can't even remember. Oh, and Death won't let him die bc Fate told them to for the plot and didn't elaborate on why so he's stuck surviving all of it.

4. Onyx, by his own adopted brother at that. Arcus didn't really take Onyx's (percieved) abandonment of him very well. Both of them need therapy, yeesh...

5. Leo and his crew. They're my world-hopping pirates, and definitely not of their own choice. Leo has sworn to kill whatever fate or god has damned them to getting yoinked into different dimensions, so I should probably watch my back lol

6. Alexei. Man has a while doomed yaoi thing going on with his ex/bestie for the past millennia or so. I guess both being vampires from Shakespearean times in a cyberpunk future equals some kind of trauma bonding? They don't even realize they're still flirting, it's painful to watch, really.

7. Onyx, he's one of my oldest ocs and i love putting my lil guy in Situations.

8. Leo and his crew again, for obvious reasons

9. Aster, by a young water spirit. She healed him, and he helped care for her in return. She then taught him alchemy, something her species knows instinctively via generational memories. He's now one of the best alchemists in the region.

10. Onyx and Maverick. Both killed by family and revived for different reasons. Maverick was bc of the plot, while Onyx was revived bc his s/o made a deal with Death for him. Maverick is in denial about his immortality, while Onyx is completely unaware that he actually died.

11. Winter/Winniel. Poor guy's scared of being even slightly out of line due to the tyrant king of his homeland. And as the royal alchemist, he's pretty close to the king. The king has convinced him so much of his weakness that he doesn't dare consider rebellion, convinced that he stands no chance even though physically he could definitely take him in a fight.

12. Kipp has compartmentalized his trauma and stress from his work, putting on a cheery and almost innocent persona to put his loved ones (and himself) at ease. At this point, he's not really sure which "him" is the real him anymore.

13. Acheron, constantly. It's technically magic tears that leak out no matter what he tries, and occasionally they form into little blob crows. They are his babies and he loves them dearly.

14. I'll pick Juno for this one. He's stuck in a control spell by an evil sorceress, and she usually gets him to kill people she wants to get rid of, or sometimes even people he comes across. He hates the lack of choice, so often he makes the choice to attack them on his own. Not healthy at all, and he'd rather not, but it's the only way he knows to exert control over his life.

15. Usually "comfort after a nightmare" scenarios are my favorite. Once they're calm(er), it's usually a pretty sweet moment. Easily turns to fluff afterwards.

Torturing your ocs ask game :)

(Delightful, I know. But we all do it sometimes)

1. Which of your ocs do you most often imagine sick? In what ways?

2. Which of them do you most imagine injured in other ways?

3. Who do you put through the most emotional turmoil?

4. Which oc has been tortured? Through what means?

5. Which of them has the worst luck?

6. Who goes through the most relationship conflicts? (applies to any relationships)

7. Who do you put most into stressful situations or other drama?

8. Who ends up in survival situations the most? How do they fair in them?

9. Has any of them had to be saved from the brink of death? Were there any consequences after?

10. Has any of them had to be revived / brought back to life? How did this affect them?

11. Who is afraid the most? How does this effect them?

12. What kind of health repercussions has your oc experienced through intense stress? How do they manage them?

13. Who cries the most often? What are the usual causes?

14. How does your oc cope?

15. To cap off what kind of hurt/comfort scenarios do you put your oc in?

This can be about canon story events or simply rotating scenarios for fun!

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misaerabl · 2 days ago

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Backbeat

band guitarist (kinda a loser) ellie x reader

MINORS AND MEN DNI / word count: 3.6k words

SUMMARY: Ellie, a shy guitarist in a local band, has been harboring a quiet crush on you, a barista who works at her favorite café. Despite her growing feelings, she struggles to express them. As the band's upcoming gig approaches, Ellie grapples with her emotions and finally gathers the courage to invite you to the show. WARNINGS: uhm none I guess... (SFW) A/N: leaning more into the format of "Feeding The Fire"

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

The café was bustling as usual, the clink of cups and the hum of conversation filling the air. You wiped down the counter, your movements steady and practiced, as you glanced over to the usual spot where Ellie and her band sat. She was there again, like clockwork, though today she was being uncharacteristically quiet. You noticed how her fingers drummed lightly on the table, her gaze flickering over the menu, even though she knew exactly what she wanted.

It was then that Jesse, the band’s outspoken and confident guitarist, leaned across the table, his voice loud enough to cut through the noise. "Come on, Ellie," he teased, his grin wide, "you’ve been coming here for months, and you still haven’t even said more than, what—'I'll have a coffee'?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her shyness.

Ellie’s face flushed, her eyes flicking to you behind the counter before quickly averting her gaze. "Shut up, Jesse," she muttered, her voice quiet, though her discomfort was evident in the way she tugged at the sleeve of her jacket, a nervous habit.

Jesse leaned back, clearly not backing down. "No, seriously. You’ve got a thing for the barista, don’t you?" His voice was louder now, and Ellie’s face went even redder. She didn’t answer, but the way she avoided looking at you gave her away.

The bandmates around them laughed, but Jesse’s teasing wasn’t over. "You’re practically obsessed with this girl. I swear, you could probably recite her coffee order by heart by now. How many times have you been here this week alone?"

Ellie didn’t reply. She kept her focus on the table, fiddling with the napkin holder like it was the most interesting thing in the world. You could see the mix of embarrassment and something else—something deeper—as her fingers drummed the table lightly, a subtle, rhythmic pulse that seemed to mirror the quiet beat of her heart.

Jesse, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting, nudged Ellie’s shoulder. "Come on, admit it. You’re too shy to talk to her. You’ve got the biggest crush, and you're not doing a damn thing about it."

Ellie shot him a glare, but it was more out of habit than any real anger. She couldn’t deny it. She was smitten, but she’d never admit it out loud, at least not yet.

"She’s just a barista, Jesse," Ellie mumbled, but even her words were tinged with uncertainty.

Jesse, sensing the vulnerability beneath Ellie’s tough exterior, grinned wider. "A barista you keep staring at every time she walks by. Yeah, sure." He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a teasing whisper. "What’s it gonna take to get you to talk to her? Or are you just gonna keep letting her serve you coffee in silence?"

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, her fingers tapping against the table again, almost like a rhythm she couldn’t quite control. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Come on," Jesse pushed. "Don’t let your chance slip away."

Ellie bit her lip, her gaze flicking over to you once more as you moved behind the counter, oblivious to the conversation unfolding. She felt that familiar flutter in her chest, the kind that always hit her when she saw you. But it wasn’t enough to make her act. Not yet. Not today.

"Maybe next time," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "Next time? You’ve been saying that for months." He nudged her again, and with a defeated sigh, Ellie slumped back in her chair, her thoughts tangled in the rhythm of her own unspoken feelings—her own backbeat.

Echoes of You

The soft hum of the world outside drifted through the window, but inside her room, Ellie’s focus was all on the quiet stirrings in her chest. The walls were lined with posters of bands she loved, her bed a mess of scattered clothes and guitar picks. The dim light from the lamp beside her flickered gently as she lay back, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Her mind wandered to you—the barista with the gentle smile and the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you greeted her, even though she barely spoke beyond her usual order. There had been something about you from the first time she stepped into the café, but now, with each passing visit, that something had grown, unspoken and undeniable.

She could still hear Jesse’s teasing voice in her head. “You’re just a shy little mess, Ellie. Just talk to her already.”

But it wasn’t that simple. How could it be? Every time she walked into that café, she felt her pulse race, her nerves jittery as if everything—her heart, her words, her courage—might suddenly slip through her fingers.

Ellie closed her eyes, the sound of her breathing deep and slow as she tried to center herself. But there you were again, your face lingering in the back of her mind. And in the quiet of her room, she couldn’t escape it. The rhythm of her thoughts was there, pulsing in her veins, like the backbeat she always felt when playing her guitar.

She sat up abruptly, her hands reaching for the instrument resting against the corner of her bed. The familiar weight of it felt comforting in her arms, grounding her in the moment. She began to strum absently, her fingers moving across the strings in a rhythm that was both calming and restless at once.

A quiet hum escaped her lips, something soft, something simple. It was a melody she’d been carrying with her for days now—just fragments, nothing complete. But it was all about you. In every chord, in every note, she could hear the undercurrent of her feelings—soft, but always there, steady, like a pulse beneath the music.

She let the melody fill the space around her, her thoughts drifting in and out as she let her hands move freely. Her voice followed, hesitant at first, then growing more certain. She wasn’t singing the words out loud—no, this was something much quieter, more intimate. It was the kind of song she’d been afraid to admit existed within her, let alone express.

The song took shape slowly, a kind of confession written not in words, but in notes. A simple tune, nothing grand, nothing flashy, just the truth she couldn’t bring herself to speak aloud.

You don't even know, but you make my heart beat slow... Every time you smile, it's like I'm running wild... I don’t know how to say it, but I think you might be it...

She paused, her fingers still on the strings, but the hum of the song had stopped. The silence in the room felt heavy now, almost as if the song had unlocked something inside her that she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.

The truth of it hit her then—she was writing a song about you. She had known it all along, but it was like the words on the page had made it real.

She bit her lip, the guitar resting in her lap now, her mind spinning. She wasn’t sure where it would go from here, or even if it would ever reach you. But there was something in the backbeat of the song, something deep and raw, that she couldn’t ignore anymore.

Ellie stood up from the bed, the song still echoing in her ears as she walked over to her desk. She grabbed her notebook and began to write the lyrics down. Her handwriting was messy, like her thoughts, but it was hers. It was real.

“Maybe one day, you’ll hear it,” she whispered to the empty room, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Inviting the Rhythm

It was a quiet afternoon at the café, the usual midday rush having come and gone. You leaned against the counter, a soft tune playing from the café’s speakers as you wiped down a cup. There wasn’t much left to do, but you didn’t mind the calm. Your thoughts, however, wandered back to Ellie.

You hadn’t seen her yet today, but you knew she’d be here. It had become a familiar rhythm—Ellie would show up, usually with her bandmates, take her usual seat, and quietly sip her coffee while they chatted amongst themselves. But today, there was a shift in the air, something different. You didn’t know what, but you felt it.

And then you saw her. She walked in, but instead of heading straight to the table where she always sat, she hesitated by the door, as if weighing something. Her hands were shoved into her jacket pockets, her eyes flicking around the room nervously. It wasn’t like Ellie to come in alone.

You felt a pang of curiosity. It wasn’t lost on you that Ellie had been coming in for months now, but you never really had a conversation. Not a real one, anyway. You had always wondered why she kept coming, but every time you tried to make small talk, she clammed up, giving you short answers before retreating back into the comfort of her bandmates.

Today was different, though. She finally made her way to the table, but instead of sitting with the rest of the band, she pulled out a chair and sat by herself. The usual upbeat chatter from her bandmates was absent. Ellie’s gaze was fixed on the table, her fingers tapping in that familiar, anxious rhythm.

You made your way over, wiping your hands on your apron as you approached her table.

"Hey, Ellie," you greeted with a warm smile. "You’re alone today. What’s up?"

Ellie looked up at you, and for a split second, her expression was unreadable. There was a flash of uncertainty in her eyes, something you hadn’t seen before. Her fingers, which had been tapping on the table, stilled as she fidgeted with the napkin holder.

“Uh, yeah,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. “The others are, uh, running late... or something. I... I thought I’d come early.” She quickly glanced at her phone, avoiding your gaze again.

You nodded, trying to keep the conversation light. "Cool. You don’t usually come in alone. Everything good with the band?"

Ellie shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, but she managed a small nod. "Yeah, everything’s fine. Just... needed a change of scenery today."

You leaned against the table, giving her space but also wanting to know more. "Well, you know, you're always welcome here. If you need a place to think... or just get away."

Ellie met your eyes for a moment, and there was something about the way her gaze softened that made your heart skip. For a second, you thought she might say something—something more than just her usual shy smile or quick one-liner—but the words stayed locked behind her lips.

The silence stretched, and Ellie’s fidgeting resumed, her fingers tapping lightly on the table again.

"So... are you still coming to our gig on Friday?" Ellie suddenly asked, her voice steadying as she looked up at you.

You blinked, taken off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. "Uh, yeah, I was planning on it," you replied, a little surprised. You’d heard about the gig from the band, but hearing Ellie mention it specifically made your stomach flutter. "Why?"

Ellie swallowed, her fingers still tapping nervously. "Well... I, uh... wanted to... you know, invite you. It’s not... it’s not just for the band or anything. Just... thought you might want to come."

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if you were hearing her right. She seemed so different today, more vulnerable, less guarded than usual. "You’re inviting me? Just me?" you asked, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Ellie flushed, looking away quickly. "I mean... yeah," she muttered, "if you want to come. I—I’ll be playing, and... you could hear us. Just... don’t make it weird." She winced as soon as the words left her mouth, clearly regretting the awkwardness that had already settled between you.

You couldn’t help but smile at her shyness. "Of course, I’ll come," you said warmly, trying to ease the tension. "I wouldn’t miss it."

Ellie relaxed a little, the smallest smile curving her lips. "Great," she whispered. "I’ll... see you there."

You nodded, still caught off guard by her sudden openness, but something in her voice told you that this was more than just a casual invitation. There was a quiet hope beneath the words—Ellie was finally letting down her walls, even if it was just a little.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. You knew this gig was going to be more than just music—it would be the start of something, a rhythm that would soon be impossible to ignore.

The Song in the Silence

The crowd buzzed with excitement as Ellie’s band played through their set, each song building momentum with the kind of raw energy only a live performance could bring. You stood near the back of the club, nestled between the sea of people, your eyes fixed on Ellie. Tonight, she was different—her nervousness was replaced by an undeniable confidence. Her guitar was like an extension of her, and with every strum, her entire body seemed to resonate with the music.

You had seen Ellie around the café countless times, shy, awkward, and always hiding behind her guitar when you’d run into her. But up on stage, she was a different person. There was a power in the way she played—her fingers gliding across the strings with ease, her posture commanding the space. Every song seemed to have a part of her, but it was the last one that caught your attention the most.

The band was playing their final song, and the vibe in the club shifted, the energy growing electric. Ellie was playing rhythm guitar this time, her eyes closed as she lost herself in the music. Her bandmates—Jesse on bass, Dina on lead vocals—were fully immersed, their music echoing through the venue. But every time you glanced at Ellie, she was slightly more distant, her focus intense as if she was preparing for something.

The song’s outro built slowly, and you could feel the anticipation hanging in the air like a held breath. Then, in a moment of stillness, Ellie leaned over to Dina, whispering something too quiet for you to hear. Dina, the lead singer, nodded in response, a sly smile tugging at her lips. The band finished the instrumental portion, and the crowd fell into an expectant silence.

Dina stepped up to the mic, her usual confidence now laced with a playful excitement. "Alright, folks, this next one’s a special one. You’ve been hearing a lot of us tonight, but now we’re gonna switch things up," she said, her voice carrying through the room.

You watched as Ellie adjusted the strap of her guitar, standing slightly straighter, her posture giving away a hint of nervousness. It was a different side of her, one you hadn't seen before. The music was still alive in her body, but something else lingered in the air.

Dina continued, a mischievous grin on her face. "Ellie’s gonna take over for this last one. Let’s show her some love!"

The crowd cheered, a wave of applause rippling through the room. Ellie looked out into the crowd, her expression a mix of surprise and nervousness, but she nodded as if steeling herself for something big.

She took a deep breath and, with one last glance at her bandmates, her voice came through the mic—not yet, but the promise was there. The beginning of a song. But this wasn’t just any song—it was different. You could feel it in the air.

The first notes rang out, and Ellie’s fingers moved deftly on her guitar, filling the space with the familiar chords of the song. Her eyes were fixed on the neck of the guitar as she played, but there was a shift—a subtle, almost imperceptible change. It wasn’t just the song; it was the feeling behind it, the energy that swelled in the room, pulling everyone’s focus.

And then, Ellie began to sing.

Her voice was soft at first, hesitant, but each word carried an intimacy that sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t just the lyrics—it was the emotion she put into them. As the chorus hit, the raw vulnerability in her voice reached deep into the pit of your stomach.

You didn’t know it yet, but the song was about you.

Ellie’s eyes flickered to you from the stage, and for a fleeting second, you caught a glimpse of something deeper in her gaze—something that was always there, but hidden behind the awkwardness and the shyness. The song was her confession, wrapped in the melody, hidden in the lyrics, as if she had poured everything she couldn’t say into the notes and words.

The crowd swayed, caught up in the music, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Ellie. The way she held herself now, the way she sang the song with a quiet desperation—like she was telling a secret only you could hear.

When the song ended, there was a brief moment of silence, followed by an eruption of applause. But you couldn’t focus on the crowd or the noise. You were still caught in the intensity of Ellie’s performance, her eyes finding yours once again, lingering for a moment longer than usual.

She set her guitar down with a shaky breath, her shoulders dropping as she stepped back from the mic. The room felt different, as if the weight of her confession still hung in the air, waiting to be acknowledged.

Dina was the first to break the silence, her voice light and teasing. "See? Told you she could do it. Ellie, you were amazing!"

Ellie didn’t answer at first, just looking down at her guitar. It was clear she was embarrassed—maybe even overwhelmed by the act of putting her feelings into that song. But for the first time, you saw her vulnerability laid bare, not in awkward moments or shy smiles, but through the very thing she loved most—her music.

The applause around you blurred as you finally allowed the truth to sink in. Ellie had just sung her heart out, and somehow, you knew it was for you.

The Confession in the Chords

The applause faded into a hum of conversations and clinking glasses as the band began packing up their gear. You lingered near the back of the club, unsure if you should stay or leave. Something about that last song tugged at you, lingering in the air like the final notes of a melody refusing to let go.

Ellie was still on stage, carefully coiling her guitar cable. Her usual awkward energy was back—head down, shoulders hunched—so different from the confident girl who had just sung her heart out. Jesse nudged her, whispering something that made Ellie shoot him a glare before he laughed and hopped off the stage, leaving her alone.

You hesitated, then made your way closer. By the time you reached the edge of the stage, Ellie had packed her guitar into its case but hadn’t moved. She looked up as you approached, her green eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Hey," you said, your voice louder than intended over the buzz of the room.

Ellie blinked, then gave a small, shy smile. "Hey."

There was an awkward pause, the kind that usually made you uncomfortable, but now it felt charged, like there was something more waiting to be said. You broke the silence first. "You were amazing tonight."

Ellie ducked her head, her cheeks tinting pink. "Thanks. I—uh—didn’t expect you to actually come."

"Why wouldn’t I? You invited me," you replied with a small laugh. "And I’m glad I did. That last song..." You trailed off, searching for the right words. "It felt... personal."

Ellie froze for a second, her hand gripping the edge of her guitar case. "Yeah, uh..." She glanced around, as if looking for an escape route, then sighed and looked back at you. "It was."

You tilted your head, curious. "Who’s it about?"

She rubbed the back of her neck, her gaze darting everywhere but at you. "That’s, uh... kind of a long story."

"I’ve got time," you teased gently, crossing your arms.

Ellie finally met your eyes, her expression a mix of vulnerability and determination. "It’s about someone who makes me feel like I’m stuck in the background, like... like I don’t know how to say the things I want to say when they’re around."

Your heart skipped a beat at the weight in her words. "Ellie..."

She swallowed hard, her fingers twitching at her sides. "It’s about you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but the words hit like a drumbeat, steady and sure.

The world seemed to blur around you, the noise of the club fading into a distant hum. Ellie’s gaze didn’t waver now, her earlier shyness replaced by a quiet resolve.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. But then you smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. "I guess I should feel honored," you said, your tone light, though your voice betrayed your emotions.

Ellie chuckled nervously, scratching the back of her head. "Or creeped out. I don’t know—maybe both?"

"No, not creeped out," you assured her, your smile widening. "Not even a little."

Her shoulders relaxed, the tension melting away as she let out a relieved laugh. "Good. I was kinda terrified you’d think I was a weirdo."

"Well, you are," you teased, your grin turning playful. "But I think I like that about you."

Ellie’s mouth opened slightly, as if to respond, but instead, she let out another laugh, this one softer, more genuine. "Guess I can live with that."

For the first time, the silence between you felt easy, comfortable. The noise of the club returned, but it didn’t matter. In that moment, the backbeat of unspoken feelings that had been building for so long finally found its melody, and it was yours to share.

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie the last of us #the last of us #lesbian #ellie tlou #tlou #tlou2 #ellie fanfic #ellie x fem reader #the last of us 2 #ellie #ellie williams fanfic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams the last of us

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thursdayinspace · 15 hours ago

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I started writing porn during my work breaks to torture my friends (as you do) and sometimes it turns into feelings, so whatever, I'll drop this here. Possibly part of a WIP now because isn't everything these days? (My poor WIP folder.)

They spent so much time apart, first because he was dead, then because he distanced himself from her after coming back, and then because he was in hiding. Now that they’re back together, they can’t stop kissing, they can’t stop touching. They’re always connected, holding hands, standing with their sides pressed together, small pecks hello or goodbye turning into long, hungry kisses, hands clawing at each other to get closer, closer, always closer.

At night they fall asleep with their legs tangled, her head on his chest, or him spooned up behind her; they fit together so perfectly. Words are still difficult. So much has happened. He feels endless guilt for leaving her alone, leaving her to deal with the fallout of their decisions all on her own. She feels guilt heavy in her heart for giving up their son, for depriving him of his chance to be a father, she feels like the destroyer of their little family.

Touch comes easier to them and they tell each other what they can’t say through letting their bodies speak for them. It’s hard and rough some nights, pure desperation, don’t ever leave me again because I’d die, mark me, make me yours, ruin me for anyone else. Most nights it’s unbearably slow and tender, laced with a melancholy sadness mixed with tentative hope growing in the shadows that hold both danger and promise. It’s apology and affirmation, I’m sorry, I love you, here’s my heart for you to keep, it’s always been yours and always will be.

She opens her legs for him and he pushes into her slowly, coming home, covering her with his body as she holds him close. He doesn’t move, just kisses her, and she kisses back. This is what they need, connection, physical metaphor for everything language can’t yet express. When he starts rolling his hips it’s slow and shallow; they’re full of need, burning with desire for release, but every time they fall over that edge it means it’s over. Until next time. And they never take next times for granted anymore. Not after everything they’ve lost.

His forehead rests against hers as they breathe each other’s air, as her hands roam his back and he fucks her so gently, with such soul-deep devotion it brings tears to her eyes as she clenches around him, holding onto him so tightly with every part of her being.

They’re still unpracticed, they’d only just started when he was taken from her, they didn’t have a chance after he returned. But they’re learning, learning each other, learning this new language. The sounds that mean they need more, or less, or that it’s perfect.

She comes first, and he knows what to do, how to move to make it good for her, to keep her coming and coming until her moans turn into whimpers through that final crest before her body goes soft under him, and only then does he let himself go, spilling into her with a broken sound escaping his throat. It’s an ending and an oath, a beginning, a confirmation of continuity: them against the world, forever. In this moment, they’re a part of each other, their combined pleasure stronger and more meaningful than any marriage vow could ever be.

He stays inside her as long as he can and they part reluctantly, only to come back together later, always. There are no guarantees, but there are promises, there’s love. They’ll make it work.

#txf #the x files #msr #mulder and scully #fic #or whatever this is #idk idk #typing out a few hundred words of feelings-smut in between things gets me through the day #I suppose there are weirder ways to cope

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bouquetface · 1 day ago

Text

Synastry Game: CLOSED

PLEASE READ FULLY BEFORE SUBMITTING

This game is not come first, served first. I will not accept incorrect asks. Sending in incorrectly and then sending a second ask correctly will not be accepted. Please just read the rules before submitting.

For this game, I'll do a synastry read for either someone you know IRL or a celebrity. This is simply for fun - especially the celeb reads, take it as astro based fanfiction.

For a synastry read with someone you irl:

Send your birth time, birth location + birthday. As well as the crush or partner's birthday, birth location + birth time. If you do not know this info for them, it's fine but keep in mind it will affect the read.

For a synastry read with a celeb crush:

Send your birth time, birth location + birthday. You can send the celeb's info if you know it. If birth time isn't available online, it's fine because this is just for fun.

Random names in case you need ideas: Jack Harlow, Timothee Chalamet, Jungkook, Playboy Carti, Harry Styles, Alexa Demie, Miley Cyrus, MGK, Megan Fox,

KEEP IN MIND: This is basically astro based fanfiction. It is just for entertainment!!

I have no preference for whether you choose a personal synastry read, a celeb read from the list or your own celeb crush. Every ask has the same chance of being selected if sent in correctly. To assure you have read correctly, please send in a photo of your celeb crush with the ask. And please promise to leave feedback! It’s greatly appreciated to know you got the reading and your thoughts. I always get a lot of asks and I will not be able to answer everyone. 💗💗

I will be answering throughout the week & possible weekend. Post Date Nov 26, 2024.

#astrology observations #astrology #synastry observations #tarot pac

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bloggerspam · 5 hours ago

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Steph's new year resolution is to spend actual time with Val.

First step: Val's phone number.

Asking Jason will be a bust. He's Val's boss, a good one, so Steph won't even bother asking when she knows he won't divulge employee information like that.

That leaves asking Val herself, or passing a note along with Jason.

She trusts Jason, she does. He's leagues better than if Steph were to ask Dick, or even Tim.

She'd rather get made fun of, in that loving way Jason does, than be smothered and inundated with questions and screams the way Dick and Tim do.

But Jason is a good boss, and Steph's grown up with too many Bats to know what the normal boundary is between employee and employer.

So, obviously, she stalks Jason at work in her free time to see if Val works any of those shifts to ask her herself.

She hits money on the third day.

"Val!" Steph saunters over with a wide smile. "I haven't seen you since Riddler took you away."

"Hey, Steph." Val looks so cute when she's flustered, "Yeah, sorry about that."

Val's working on a car, in that delicious coverall grease monkey look, doing a simple oil change. Steph perches herself delicately on the side, so as to not be in the way.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Steph pouts, "It's dangerous to go towards the Rogues, you know."

"Oh, well…" Val laughs nervously, smudging more grease when she rubs at the back of her neck "Y'know, Amity Parkers are just built different I guess."

"I have no doubt that you…handled yourself just fine," Steph placates, leaning forward a bit to run a finger down Val's well muscled biceps, "but I would feel so much better if you played by Gotham rules…"

Val does that nervous little laugh again, breathy, and gods does Steph want to ruin her.

"I can try," Val bites her lip, "But with friends like Danny…"

Steph giggles. "He's a trouble magnet huh?"

"You have no idea." Val smiles helplessly, and they get caught like that for a long moment.

Val's eyes skip back and forth between hers, even flicking to Steph's lips for a scant second, making Steph's heart skip a million beats.

But then Val coughs, breaking eye contact to reach under the hood to do…something. Steph's too busy mourning the death of a moment to really figure it out.

But Steph is nothing if not persistent.

"So, hey, speaking of friends…" Steph clears her throat, "You go to Gotham U, right?"

"Yeah," Val confirms, flicking a glance over at her as she shuts the car hood, "Early education major."

Steph pauses. Because what are the chances? "No way."

Val hunches her shoulders up, "I know, doesn't really suit me but—"

"No!" Steph frantically interrupts, "That's not what I meant, it's just, I'm a human development major!"

Val stares at her, uncomprehending, which is fair. Steph smiles helplessly as she explains, "I want to be an special education teacher, for teens with learning disabilities."

Val blinks. "…How have we not seen each other on campus?"

"I have a night job, so I take a lot of my classes online." Steph explains, "The ones I do have to go in person for are late afternoon classes, usually Wednesdays."

"Ah." Val nods in understanding, "I take mostly morning classes, and afternoon shifts here at the shop."

"Like ships in the night," Steph smiles ruefully, "Or bikes in the afternoon, I guess."

Val laughs, voice a yummy timbre that brings a little shiver down her spine. There's a rasp to her, and her accent makes everything sound so much nicer.

"That means this will work out." Steph gets them back on track, feeling all sorts of nervous.

"What will?" Val wipes her hands on a rag, tossing it over her shoulder as she leans on the car next to her.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to study together some time," Steph bats her eyelashes, "With my schedule being the way it is, it's kind of hard for me to make friends…"

"S-sure, yeah, sounds great." Val stutters, patting her pockets for her phone, only to realize she's in her coveralls. "Ah…"

"Just dictate it to me, and I'll text you so you'll have mine." Steph giggles, pulling out her phone and creating the new contact as Val gives her the info.

"And hey, maybe we could spar some too," Steph eyes Val's biceps, remembering the little brawl she and Danny had and licking her lips, "It's one of my new years resolutions to keep fit."

"I'm not an easy opponent y'know." Val smirks, looking Steph up and down and sparking shivers with her gaze.

"Trust me," Steph mutters as she sends of a winky face text, "I know."

(Val, without Steph's knowledge, doesn't realize it's flirting flirting.

She just thinks it's Steph's personality, being flirty with the winky face.

Sam bangs her head on her desk when Val texts her so.)

===

Danny is visiting on Valentines Day, in protest to the holiday itself.

Danny's always kind of hated holidays in general, now that Val thinks about it.

Tucker says it's leftover trauma from the school bullying, Sam says it's because his parents are assholes about them. Val just thinks Danny hates capitalism.

It could be all of the above, honestly.

The point is, it's Valentine's Day and Danny has just texted her that he's on his way to Gotham to hang out with her, and Val's not sure if this means Jay's done something wrong or not.

Val has been talking to her friends on almost a daily basis, but Danny's been tight-lipped about his friendship with Jay.

After Christmas Break, after the phone number exchange, Team "Get that D in Danny" thought it was a done deal.

Jay was a straight forward kind of guy, and Danny's never been shy about flirting.

Surely, something should have happened, right?

But Val wasn't really present when Danny and Sam were sort of dating, and Val was in the relationship with Danny, so she doesn't actually know how Danny is when he's dating someone.

She's been taking her cues from Tucker, who says that Danny isn't really the "my girlfriend/boyfriend" type. Danny's always referred to Sam and Val, in their respective relationships, by their names.

But then again, everyone in Amity Park knew each other, and ghosts hardly ever care about such mortal statuses. (Ignoring Johnny and Kitty, whose whole shtick is their relationship. That's a whole different can of worms.)

The point is, Val is suffering. Team "Get that D in Danny" is suffering.

And she needs to know if she has to beat up her boss for Danny or not.

Jay's been Fort Knox about the whole thing too, and it's getting irritating.

"Danny's coming to pick me up." Val finally says at the end of her shift, glaring up at her boss. "What did you do?"

Jay, wide eyed and covered in grease, drops the washer fluid in his hands on his (thankfully) steel-toed boot.

"Danny's what—" Jay lunges for his jacket, draped over his workstation, frantically pulling up his phone and— "I gotta go."

She then watches her boss, resident Crime Lord, Billionaire baby Jason Peters Todd-Wayne, book it to the back rooms.

What the fuck?

Ten minutes later, Jay comes back out, freshly showered and in clean, fitted clothes. He's even got a red rose from…somewhere.

Val reiterates: What the fuck?

"Danny hates red roses." Val says, confusion laced through her entire fucking being. They look too much like blood blossoms for any of the Amity Parkers to have any sort of affection for the flower. "He doesn't like red flowers in general."

Jay immediately tosses it into a nearby oil catch tray, looking like he might even set it on fire, if he could just find a match…

"Okay, seriously," Val puts her hands on her hips, "What the fuck is going on? Was that an apology rose?"

"What?" Jay whips his head towards her, "No!"

"Gods," Val throws her hands up in exasperation, "Are y'all dating or what? Danny's been weirdly adamant y'all are just hangin' out but I see you in here, moonin' and what not."

Her accent is getting worse in her agitation and she really hates it, which turns into a vicious cycle.

"We're not dating." Jay finally admits, sitting heavily down on one of the stools by his workstation. "But I am wooing him."

There's a long beat of silence.

"Pardon?" Val's voice is flat, disbelieving. "You're what?"

"Wooing." Jason juts his chin out, "We've done a couple of face time hang outs, streamed movies together and stuff. But it just never seemed the right time to ask him for a visit, or for me to go visit him."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Val tries to soften her voice. Red Hood, resident crime lord and bad ass, is a romantic. Huh.

"I wanted to ask him in person." Jay mumbles, "Important stuff's for in person conversations."

"In this day and age?" Val asks unthinkingly. "I doubt Danny would care."

They both know he'd probably say yes.

"Yeah, but Danny's been…he's been looking into schools to transfer to," Jay looks down at his hands, "Didn't want to influence the choices."

Danny had come out to this parents about Phantom just last month. It was a development everyone was not only extremely thankful for, but still getting used to.

The Fentons, as expected, were fully supportive. They turned a dime, burned their research metaphorically and literally to 'start over from an unbigoted perspective.'

Jazz has been thoroughly enjoying the family therapy sessions.

Schedules were created, to lessen Danny's load, and better safety locks were made to mitigate the necessity of those patrols in the first place.

Overall, Danny's been sleeping more, less stressed, and happy as a clam, if a little embarrassed by his parent's smothering love and support.

Val had thought that maybe Jay was a big part of that too, romantically speaking. Clearly, she was only half right.

"Danny loves Gotham." Val starts, carefully picking her words. Because it's true, he loves it more than she does. "He likes how weird and crazy it is, and Gotham U's engineering program is one of the best in the nation."

It would have to be, with how often things need to be reconstructed around here.

"The pizza's great too," Danny's voice suddenly cuts in from behind her, "Not to mention the company."

Val twirls around, hearing the clatter of Jay jumping up suddenly and banging his hip on his worktable with a pained hiss.

"How long have you be standing there?" Jay squeaks as he rubs his hip, face burning.

"Not long, since Val said I love Gotham. Which I do." Danny tilts his head with a confused smile. "Why? Gossiping about me?"

"We were talking about your choices in transfer." Val quickly covers, as much fun as it would be to just call both of them out, Val's not that mean. "Didn't want to accidentally influence the choice or anythin', y'know."

"Last time I checked you were looking into Star City, right?" Jay quickly adds, shooting Val a grateful look.

"Yep." Danny grins, popping the 'p' obnoxiously, "They've got a pretty comprehensive scholarship, but it's about the same as Gotham's, and honestly, Gotham's in my top two choices—"

"Gotham's a top choice?" Jay cuts in, confused but sounding a little…hopeful, "Nobody ever…I mean, even I know Gotham's crazy…"

"Gotham's a lot like Amity Park," Danny shrugs, before looking away with alarmingly red ears, "Just bigger, more goth. Plus, y'know, you and Val are here…not to mention the rogues here are way more fun than Amity's ghostly menagerie…"

"Are you sure you don't mean the vigilantes?" Val smirks, sensing an opportunity. "Or maybe a certain vigilante?"

"Mmm…nope." Danny feigns thinking hard about it. "I definitely meant the rogues."

"Uh huh…" Val drags out, "Nothing at all to do with your third place hall pass pick."

"Hall pass pick?" Hook, line, and sinker. Jay tilts his head. "What's that?"

"It's a list of celebrities monogamous couples will allow their significant other to sleep with and not count as cheating." Val innocently explains, gleefully watching Danny squirm. "It was mostly a joke, but me and Danny had one when we were dating."

"And heroes and vigilantes are basically celebrities," Jay follows the line of thought, before his eyes get a little gleam to them, "Which Bat does Danny have a celeb crush on?"

"No-one!" Danny hastily answers. Val wonders what Jay would do to his siblings if Danny did have a celeb crush on them.

"Red Hood." Val smiles with all her fucking pearly whites. "Danny likes bad boys."

Danny makes a noise like a tea kettle. "Don't judge me!!!"

To Val, Jay looks like he doesn't know whether to be flattered, or concerned.

To Danny, he must look thoroughly confused.

"Listen," Danny tries to explain himself, "Have you seen those thigh holsters???"

Jay chokes. Val laughs her fucking ass off.

(The three of them get pizza afterward.

Val missed her opportunity to leave them to it, and has to sit there and watch Jason stare at Danny making porno noises at how good the pizza is.

She texts Steph about how much she hates Valentine's Day because of it.

Until, of course, Steph joins in and she hates it a little less.)

===

Easter break, and Steph is bored out of her god damn mind.

She texts Cass first, then Babs, but one's in dance practice and the other's working a shift at the library.

Naturally, she texts Val next, sending over a selfie of her pouting and sad, with an appropriately dramatic lovelorn caption.

She gets back a picture of Sam, Tucker, and Danny fighting each other on a couch, controllers in hand with a glow reflecting against their faces in a dark, but massive looking room.

"Back home in the trenches," Steph reads aloud, sighing and lovesick.

They've been texting back and forth for the past month now, and honestly? Steph considers them dating.

The problem is, even when Steph says "it's a date!" Val just…doesn't seem to get it.

Steph would call it a straight girl move, if she didn't know 100% that Val at least thinks Steph's sexy af.

Or, at least, really wants to kiss her, if the way the other girl stares at Steph's lips is anything to go by.

And Val stares a lot.

But she always pulls back with a nervous laugh, as if Steph is the one rejecting her.

It's very frustrating, but Steph has learned that Val doesn't actually have a lot of experience with girls, so she might just be…shy.

But! At least they've been on study dates, and sparring dates, and one time they even got froyo!

Steph's been trying really hard to be patient.

It's not really working.

There's another ding! It's Cass, telling her to come over to Wayne Manor. The Batkids are having a sudden movie marathon.

She has a lot of fun with her family, watching terrible horror movies and throwing popcorn at all the stupid people doing stupid things. She sends Val a selfie of her cuddling up with Cass and Damian, of Dick and Jason dumping buckets of popcorn on each other, of Tim and Duke taking god damn notes.

It's even more fun when Val sends pictures back. Of Sam sitting on Tucker and Danny laughing so hard he's fallen off the sofa. There's a selfie of Val and Sam painting the boy's nails in bright neon green color, and a selfie of the group in matching ghost themed pajamas, what looks like Wallace and Gromit playing on the big screen behind them. A picture where Danny and Tucker are snoring, cuddling each other very intimately, with Sam in the background doing a little peace sign.

Steph's buried under Tim's legs and Dick's arms now, hardly able to send a selfie of her face with the way it's covered in limbs, but she manages it.

Val sends one back, in a darkened room where Sam is watching some movie next to the sleeping boys. Val's sleepy smile and half lidded gaze warms her up from the inside.

It's a great night, all in all.

She dreams of soft kisses, warm cuddles, and B grade horror movie kiss scenes with a smile on her face, she's sure of it.

(Steph wakes up to someone rudely tearing off the blanket she was sharing with Cass and loudly announcing it's breakfast.

She throws a pillow at Damian for it, who scoffs and dodges her 'paltry attempt.' Her head hurts from all the sugar she consumed last night, and there's an ache in her back from sleeping on the floor.

Val sent her a good morning text and rumpled selfie that features a soft smile, and Tucker two steps away from spilling pancakes all over Val.

Steph eats breakfast with such a wide smile, Duke asks if she won the lottery or something.)

===

It's looking to be a very hot summer in Gotham, if April is anything to go by.

Isn't April supposed to be full of showers? They had an abrupt chill last week due to Mr. Freeze, but since then it's been hot and Val is suffering.

But Danny has come 'round to visit, and it gives her the energy she needs to get through the day so she can hang out with them over the weekend. Danny's always run cold, and Val's never been shy of siphoning off that chill in the summertime.

Val didn't have a shift today, so Danny picked her up from school and they've decided that pancakes and waffles are in order.

It's 2pm on a Thursday, but that hardly even matters.

What matters is that Danny is wrong and waffles are clearly more superior than pancakes.

"You can throw pancakes like a frisbee, what are you even saying," Danny rolls his eyes as they cut through an alley to get the Denny's, "Waffles are way too crunchy."

"I want to look inside your head and see what delusion is playing 24/7," Val shoots back, "Why would a food need to be used as a frisbee to be superior, first of all, and second of all, the texture is not crunchy."

"The inside of my head is just like any other human," Danny scoffs, "It's been tested and everything. Plus, if you can't use your food item as a frisbee in order to quell the sausage rebellion, is it even worth having as food?"

Val squints her friend for a moment, even going so far as to pause her walking. Danny, after another moment, stops with her but does not meet her eyes.

She smacks the back of his head.

"Ow! What the fuck Val! Just because I'm right!"

"No joking about tests." Val growls, waiting until Danny shows the appropriate amount of regret, before swiftly getting back on topic, "Besides. Waffles are sturdier, and the shape can still be used as a frisbee against sausage rebellions."

Danny takes a breath for the admonishment, centering himself from bad memories. He thinks on her latter statement, nodding reluctantly. "Textures still shit though."

Val groans, continuing their way through the alley, "The texture is so that syrup has places to be, syrup on pancakes just slides off—"

"Hands up!" Just in front of them, a man is brandishing a knife in one hand, with the other reaching palm up, "Give me your wallets and nobody gets hurt."

Val internally scoffs, making eye contact with a gleeful Danny. He's been involved in more Rogue incidents than Val has, and he doesn't even live here.

"Aw, c'mon man," Danny simpers, hands in his pockets and shoulders scrunching up, "Can't you see we're just poor college students just trying to get to Denny's?"

"And you and your girl can go along your merry way," The mugger rasps, "after you give me your wallets. You can take the date home."

Val and Danny simultaneously make an uck sound.

"Been there," Danny grins, ruefully.

"Done that." Val rolls her eyes.

"Got the scars and everything to prove it!" Danny chirps, showing his lichtenberg scars even though they're irrelevant.

Val smacks him upside the head again, but Danny doesn't even flinch. Stupid halfa-biology.

"Just give me the money!" The mugger loses his patience, pulling out a gun. Ugh.

"And why don't you give me a break," A modulated voice says from above, before something large drops down and breaks the mugger's arm.

"Hah! Break, that's a good one." Danny laughs.

Red Hood freezes, before groaning with that modulated voice. "Nobody tell Nightwing. I'd never live it down."

Val bites her lip, wondering if Nightwing is Dick Grayson, the asshole cop who arrested her and Danny a couple months ago. Dude was not subtle in the interrogation of his sibling's new friends, and kept riffing with Danny using puns.

Val hates the guy on that principle alone, so it won't be hard.

"Lips are sealed, Bo—ahem—ig guy." Val really has to figure out the best time to let her boss know that she knows.

"Thanks for saving us, Red Hood, sir." Danny smiles at Hood, shy-like. "I didn't think we'd see you again after…"

"That thing with Riddler?" Even through the modulator is apparent Hood is smiling. "I thought you were finding trouble on purpose, but maybe trouble just likes to find you?"

Val's gotta hand it to him, Jay's a good actor. But as someone who knows who he is? It's clear that Hood is relishing the attention. Finding out your crime lord persona is a top choice must have outweighed the confusion of a crime lord persona being a top choice.

"Either way, it's no problem. Punks shouldn't be muggin' in my territory anyway." Hood peacocks his way into a casual leaning pose, and it's funny as all hell.

"Oh!" Danny looks around, "I didn't realize we were already in Crime Alley?"

"The one Denny's in Gotham is in Crime Alley," Val sighs, "I told you this."

"I thought we established that I don't listen to you." Danny retorts, "That's why we broke up."

"We broke up because of your clear preference for dick, Danny." Val drawls.

Hood chokes.

"This is bullying," Danny jokes, ears bright red from Val no doubt embarrassing him in front of his favorite vigilante, "And you have no leg to stand on, with the way you were drooling after Kate Winslet."

"Most of your hall pass picks were men," Val reminds him, and because she's nothing if not an opportunist, "Speaking of which—-what's it like to be texting one of them almost every day?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Danny sniffs, trying to pull Val through the alley, "Why do you keep bringing up my hall pass picks anyway?"

"Everyday?" Hood's voice, even modulated, sounds jealous. He's probably wondering if Danny's been texting the other top two choices above him.

"Yeah, everyday." Val confirms, much to Danny's dismay.

"Val!" Danny hisses as Hood leans a little closer. "Shut up."

Danny's probably thinking she might embarrass him by mentioning that Red Hood is Danny's third place pick. If only he knew.

"My boss is his fourth place pick." Val grins, as Danny slumps in relief. If only he knew!

She watches intently as Hood freezes, hand going to a pocket that isn't there, almost like he wants to immediately text someone. He seems to settle for a slow drawl, "S'that so. Small world. You work for a vigilante I know or something?"

Damn good actor, but not subtle enough for someone whose looking. He's definitely warring with a bunch of different emotions, and even through the helmet she can tell.

He wants to know why his civilian identity is fourth, when his crime lord persona is third.

"O-KAY!" Danny yells, pulling her more forcefully, "That's enough of oversharing with a crime lord who doesn't know us and clearly has other things to do. Thank you again Mr. Hood, big fan, love your work, the 8 heads was inspired really—"

Val cackles all the way through the alley, watching as Hood grapples away in a daze.

When they sit down at Denny's, Danny gets a text from Jay that makes him mumble into his menu.

"Why does he want to know my top two hall pass picks? I'm not even in a relationship!"

Val tosses a jam packet at his head.

(Steph texts her afterward, asking about Val's Hall Pass picks.

Val texts her no comment.

Somehow, Jay finds out, which leads to Danny finding out.

Danny texts Steph that Kate Winslet, Amanda Seyfried, and Black Canary were her top 3.

When Steph texts All Blondes, huh? Val lunges at Danny right there in the Denny's.

They get kicked out, and are summarily banned from the establishment.)

===

Gotham is muggy in May.

Steph hates how sticky it makes her skin feel, how lethargic her body gets, and most of all, she hates how her she stupidly made her Spoiler uniform have a lower face mask.

She's definitely going to get pimples, and it's going to suck.

The bright side is that she's best friends with not just one, but two Wayne kids.

This means that she can enjoy the Wayne Manor indoor pool with the other Batkids for most of the summer day until patrol time.

It's good to have connections.

She's relaxing with Babs and Tim on the lounge chairs, and whilst normally she would join in on the watergun fight the other batboys and Cass have going on, she's just too tired.

It's been a long first week of summer, especially with that Mad Hatter case she and Cass broke two days ago.

Mad Hatter cases always gave her the heebie jeebies, considering her own blonde hair and blue eyes.

So: chilling at the pool. Val comes back next week, with a bonus Danny in tow to start the process of finding an apartment for both of them to share, and Steph's not the only one excited about it.

Jason's been over the god damn moon.

Her phone buzzes with two incoming texts, but before Steph can even reach over to grab it, a loud thump! startles all vigilantes to whip up towards the sound.

Jason has tripped over a lounge chair, ass over kettle, groaning.

Amidst the laughter, Steph gets another buzz, so she checks her phone. It's two discord messages from Val.

valerino: Phantoms dog has invaded sams pool valerino: D's really excited about it 🙄

The last text is a photo of Danny, shirtless, getting absolutely slobbered on by a glowing green dog. Holy shit. Wait a second.

stephieeee: uhm???? green dog????? stephieeee: did u send this pic to Jason too? valerino: Yeah, long story short, hes a ghost dog. Hes cool though. And what? No, why? stephieeee: cuz he just ate shit tripping on a lounge chair stephieeee: right after u sent that pic valerino: Lol danny sent a selfie i think. We're taking a break from a water fight tucker started to play with cujo stephieeee: lolllllll stephieeee: that tracks stephieeee: we had a water gun fight too stephieeee: but i sat out with the girlies stephieeee: the heat is just stephieeee: Too Much valerino: Lol danny just showed me the pic he sent. Its a thirst trap, and he didnt even know valerino sent an image

The picture of of a shirtless Danny, with abs, holding up a see through, green dog. His arm muscles glisten in the lighting as he smiles a beaming smile, teeth white and gleaming, with his face smooshed up against the dog's stretchy, pudgy little face. It's adorable and all kind of rippling muscle-y. Boy is lean, mean, and looking good in his NASA swimming trunks, even to Steph.

stephieeee: OMGGGGG stephieeee: hes actually RIPPED??? stephieeee: also i love cujo so much? he's adorable???? valerino: Hes stronger than he looks, remember? lol and yeah, cujos a real sweetheart

Steph honks out a laugh so loud it echoes even amidst the clamour of Jason being chased around for his phone. Babs hums an intrigued note, but Steph simply smiles at her and flaps a hand at where Dick has Jason in a headlock, whilst Damian grabs the phone and attempts to hack into it.

Steph decides to take a picture of the rowdy group, Jason with his really red face, Duke and Harper jeering at the photo with Dick. Damian had gotten bored once he saw it was just a picture from his so-called 'paramour.'

stephieeee: the fam is never letting him live this down stephieeee: plssssss stephieeee: Jason is so down bad its embarrraasssssiinnngggg

Satisfied, Steph decides to get up and grab some of the iced tea Alfred left for them earlier. She's taking a much deserved sip to soothe her throat when she her phone buzzes twice more.

valerino has sent an image valerino: Danny is embarrassed as all hell, his face is SO red!

It's a selfie of Val laughing with her whole body, sort of cut off as Danny scrambles to get a shirt on. He's alarmingly red, looking like he's tripped in his haste to get the Red Hood themed shirt on, but Steph can't focus on that.

She focuses on Val, wet in a bikini top and daisy dukes.

Steph chokes on her tea and falls into the pool, cup and phone and all.

At least, Steph thinks as she recovers from her almost death-by-bikini-pic fall, my phone is bat certified and waterproof.

She takes another quick look at the photo, before she dunks herself in once more, just to cool her flaming cheeks down.

Tim'll fish her out, if only to see what happened.

Until then, the water feels great.

(Val and Danny get a series of photos after, from an unknown number that claims to be Jay's brother Tim.

One of Jay and Steph red faced and commiserating with each other. They're clearly talking about something, hands gesturing at what looks like Jay's phone.

One of Steph in a simple purple bikini emerging from the pool glorious and slicking back her hair out of her face, eyes half open, looking sultry as she catches sight of the camera.

One of a shirtless Jay getting shot by multiple streams of water, one arm up and laughing and smiling, handsome and joyous.

One of Jason, toppled over a lounge chair with his hands covering his clearly red face.

One of Steph with only her eyes above the water, cheeks and neck so red you can still see them even submerged.

Val and Danny practically faint. Sam and Tucker have to write their thank you texts for them.)

===

"I might be dying." Val groans from where she's sprawled on the floor of the new apartment she and Danny are sharing for their duration of Sophomore year.

It's a nice place, for the Narrows. Big living room, two bedrooms, a nice bathroom that heats up in only a couple minutes. The kitchen isn't anything fancy, just a stove top and a microwave, but Val and Danny don't have the capability of cooking up fancy stuff anyway.

Val's stuff was packed up easy, not hard to do when a college dorm room doesn't really allow for a lot of stuff in the first place. Though she did have Tucker bring up Huntress stuff, as well as some of the packed up clothes she didn't get to bring up the first time she moved now that's she's got the room.

Danny doesn't have that many belongings, per say, He's minimalist, in that way.

But he has a lot of stuff for his workshop. Since they don't' have a third bedroom, most the living room's going to be dedicated to it. There's a big rolling table with drawers under it for storage that can be pushed to the side so Val can practice her katas, and an industrial tarp they can throw over it to use it as a dinner table if need be.

Danny, like his parents, likes to spread out whenever he's working on something.

Unlike his parents, however, he's paranoid about contamination, and always puts everything back in its place when he's done.

He's been burned too many times to not be.

Plus, Val can use his stuff to do maintenance on her hoverboard.

They like to be efficient and practical about things.

The point is, she, Danny, Tucker and Sam have spent most of the day lugging up heavy cardboard boxes and furniture that is heavy and sometimes metal.

"I said I might be dying!" Val reiterates into the silence of the now cardboard filled room.

"We heard you to the first time." Sam drawls as she walks into the living room with a cup of water from the kitchen. "I don't even know why you're whining."

"Yeah, Danny did most of the heavy lifting," Tucker chimes in as he trails in behind Sam with a box of pizza. She hands it over to Val as she sits up from her sweaty sprawl.

Val rolls her eyes, because that is inherently untrue. "It's June, it's hot, and most of us did heavy labor."

"No, no. Tucker's got a point," Danny cuts in, lugging the last box of what looks like a bunch of a tools. "I did, in fact, bring up all the furniture, and the bulk of the community stuff."

He sets it down with the rest of his workshop stuff, dusting his hands and adopting a stupid pose where he flexes his arm muscles. Val gulps down her water in disgust.

"And Val and I brought up all the clothes and bedroom stuff," Sam scoffs, "Tuck got a couple boxes of all that electronic crap."

"And none of us have halfa strength to make it easy." Val points a finger threateningly at Danny, who puts his hands up in surrender. "Hard. Labor."

They sit in a circle around the pizza and shoot the shit—making the same old banter that never gets old, making grandiose travel plans that may or may not ever leave the group chat.

About how Sam's set to intern at the Daily Planet, finally about to work with her hero Lois Lane. How she hates how shiny and modern Metropolis is. How Wes has this crazy theory that dorky, clumsy, always going to the bathroom Clark Kent is Superman. How Sam believes him 100%, but won't ever tell him because she thinks it's funny.

How Tuck has this suspicion that the Flash is affiliated with Star Labs, somehow. That the tech in there seems out of this world almost, inter-dimensional in the way ecto-tech can be, but on a different frequency. How his dorm-mate is definitely some kind of meta, maybe even a time traveler, with the way he keeps using words like crash and mode in weird ways. But he's a great roommate, so Tuck minds his business.

And then, of course, the conversation ends up to their love lives.

Sam's got this enby in one of her journalism classes that keeps talking circles around her and Sam's this close to hate fucking them about it.

Tuck's been flirting it up with the girls, per usual, but there's a girl whose been trying real hard to pick up what he's putting down, and he's not actually sure if he wants that.

That conversation goes on a tangent about asexuality and aromanticism, but it'll have to be tabled until after Tucker has time to really…research the idea.

"I'm telling you, Val," Tuck changes the subject, "Steph is definitely into you."

"All the spars? Study dates?" Danny adds in, "Hasn't she been taking you on those ice cream dates too?"

"First of all, it's froyo," Val corrects haughtily, "Second of all that's all friend stuff. I did all that stuff with you guys, and I'll be doing them with you once the new semester starts."

"Third of all," Sam continues, "You have no leg to stand on, Mr. can't play doomed tonight guys," Her impression of Danny is nasally, and horribly wrong, but it's too funny to not laugh at, "I'm gonna watch a movie with Jason on discord!"

"That's—that's different." Danny sputters.

"Dude sends you food on a weekly basis because you said you forget to eat sometimes," Tucker says reluctantly, "And sends you letters."

"Letters???" Sam says indignantly, "You didn't tell me about any letters!"

"Since when has he been sending you letters??" Val asks, grabbing Danny's collar and shaking him when he mumbles and doesn't answer them clearly.

"Since January!" Danny finally yells, grabbing her hands and pulling them off, "They're just, they're not—they're nice! He's being nice. I told him I missed getting letters, and…"

Tucker, Sam and Val all groan in unison.

"He's been wooing you for half a year and you didn't even notice??" Val shrieks, into the ceiling. The ceiling is unsympathetic, but Sam and Tucker are.

"You've basically been dating Steph for half a year and you didn't notice!" Danny's voice is high pitched, his ears are red, and he's screeching with his hands on his face as he falls back and rolls all over the ground.

"You're both useless." Sam intones, "This could be solved by texting them."

"I can't just text her." Val says hotly, at the same time Danny says "Important conversations are not for texts!"

"Gods, you're perfect for him," Val mumbles under her breath, remembering Jay's very same fucking words all those months ago.

"Relationships are all about open communication, y'all." Tucker says in a wise tone.

They all stare at him. He makes a face, shrugging. "Fair enough. Carry on being useless."

"You really think he likes me?" Danny says, in a small voice through his fingers. He's not looking at any of them, and is curled up on the floor. "You think he's been…wooing me?"

"Danny…." Sam shakes her head, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. "The man has been trying his damnedest to make this whole thing romantic for you, hasn't he?"

"You've been having virtual breakfasts together, haven't you?" Tucker softly adds in, scooching over to pat Danny on the head.

Val rolls herself over to Danny's other side, the three of them surrounding him and patting him in some way. He reaches over, snags on Val's shirt sleeve.

"I'll text him," Danny's voice trembles, "But only if you text Steph."

Val opens her mouth to argue, but shuts it at Danny's pleading eyes. She sighs.

Tucker hands Danny his phone, and they draft about a million texts before they collectively settle. Movie and a dinner, just the two of them. Easy.

"Here goes nothing…" Danny takes a deep breath, before pressing send. He laughs nervously, before straight up chucking his phone at Sam, who catches it.

"I'm going to obsessively check my phone until he answers so let's work on your text instea—" A buzz interrupts him, all four heads swinging towards the phone in Sam's hand.

Her eyes widen, mouth gaping. Danny rolls over, leans to see—

"…Oh." Danny's face crumples. "I guess…I guess that's a no, then."

"Danny…" Tucker reaches for him, but Danny shakes his head and stands up.

"I gotta…I gotta get my room set up. Thanks for all the help guys, I—" He cuts himself off, voice going small and hurt, "I guess he got tired of waiting?"

He bites his lip. Val doesn't know what to say. None of them do.

He goes to his room, and Val never sends that text to Steph.

(Red Hood gets a text message from Danny asking Jason if he'd like to catch a movie together.

There's a follow up text where Danny asks if maybe Jason would like to get dinner afterward too, just the two of them.

Red Hood is in the middle of Nanda Parbat, stealing his stupid brother's no longer missing spleen back from the creep who tried to clone him.

Red Hood has bloody gloves, and has three ninja assassins stalking him.

Red Hood texts back a "can't." but nothing to follow up, not without getting a knife to the neck.

He manages to get back home, toss the spleen back at his brother, and fall into a dead sleep 18 hours later.

When Jason wakes up another 10 hours after that, it's to an abundance of messages from his friends and family. Only one is important.

dannywithawhy: ok.

Jason falls out of bed.)

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes.

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself.

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly?

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition.

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy.

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies.

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance.

All in All? It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all.

It's the little things.

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marchofmistria · 1 day ago

Note

Hello! I love your headcanons and writing a lot! Thanks for the food

If possible, I'll like to request some headcanons for Balor and a reader that has a pretty obvious crush on him.

Thanks in advance! <3

Hey there, thank you for sending! :)

Balor is not unaccustomed to flirting. He's a handsome man, well-traveled, and a purveyor of expensive goods. He's met many people, so to speak.

But something about your particular attention to him really makes him flustered. And that fact alone scares him.

He does a lot of self-analysis to try and understand what about you makes you special to him, and why your flirting makes his heart race. He's met many attractive people in his life, sure, but you're so much more than just another pretty face to him.

From the first moment he met you on your entrance into Mistria, and he held your hand as you jumped over the broken bridge into the small village, he couldn't get you out of his mind.

From his first impression, you were definitely beautiful. As he got to know you more, he saw you as particularly clever and helpful with his business. You understood him and his line of work.

He's not sure, maybe it has to do with the fact that he's grown surprisingly attached to this village. But he suspects you play no small role in that feeling.

He can tell you like him too. Each day, you make a point to stop by his cart and chat with him. At first, it's mostly about business. But as time passes, you make an effort to learn more about the mysterious merchant and remember each detail of each story he tells you.

He really starts to feel your affections towards him each time you take effort to bring him a beautiful gem or rare archeological find. At first he thanks you, saying it'll be a good sell in the Capital.

But then you emphasize that it's for him, not to be sold. You know that, aside from his work, he truly appreciates the beauty and rarity of such things. He's touched by the thought you put into it.

Even more so when you remember his brief mention of his favorite food, curry, and make an effort to bring it to him as often as possible.

He knew that he loved you on the day you invited him over to the farm for dinner. You told him that you and Reina had worked together on a new curry recipe, and hoped that he liked it.

While you may have tried to brush off any hints suggesting that this was made for him, claiming that you and Reina were simply practicing cooking, he could tell that you didn't offer this meal to him thoughtlessly.

It's the most delicious and comforting thing he'd remembered having since his childhood. Comforting food like this was hard to come by when you lived your life on the road.

Charming and charismatic as he is, he finds it truly difficult to express in words what this gesture meant to him. Really, what all of these thoughtful and kind gestures mean to him.

He begins to associate you with the feeling of home. He hasn't known that feeling in a while.

He goes to great lengths to try and repay you for your kindness. He knows that he's already gained your affection and doesn't need to try to win you over, but he wants to give you even a small piece of the feeling you've given him.

He first brings you rare and expensive gifts he comes into possession of over the course of his travels outside of Mistria. Some of these things, you know well, he could have easily sold for a pretty penny in the Capital. But he chooses to give them to you.

As he gets to know you more, he moves away from gifts he knows would be liked by anyone to gifts specific to your interests and tastes.

He knows how carefully you listen to all his stories, and makes great effort to do the same for you. He even goes so far as to keep notes of the things you've mentioned you liked. He'll bring them for you any chance he gets.

His favorite thing in the world is spending late nights with you at the Inn, swapping stories and laughs well into the night. He feels like he can talk to you forever, and it feels wonderful to have a caring someone to share his thoughts and feelings with.

Another thing he needs to get used to is the trouble he has flirting with you at first. Although you unabashedly like Balor and don't try to hide it, Balor has to fight through some embarrassment to show his feelings back. Something he's not used to.

This is a shock to a man whose whole life was spent charming everyone he meets. He's never been a stranger to grand displays of affection, but with you he takes a different approach. With you, he wants to cultivate intimacy.

He gets shy when you clearly indicate how much you like him, but always wants you to know that the feeling is mutual and he wants your relationship to progress further.

Because of this, it doesn't take long at all for you two to become an official couple. Even long into your relationship, when Balor has vowed to make Mistria (and you specifically) his permanent home, he never stops making sure you feel loved by him. He tells you and shows you every single day.

#my writing #fields of mistria #fom #balor #fields of mistria balor #fom balor #balor x reader #balor x farmer #fields of mistria balor x reader #fields of mistria balor x farmer #fom balor x reader #fom balor x farmer

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captn-trex · 2 days ago

Text

angel of small death

Howzer x F!Reader / Twi'lek!Reader

word count: 6.1k / 24k

part one | part two | part three

description: after the rise of the Empire, Howzer finds his position on Ryloth to be precarious at best, but his attention is drawn from his troubles when he finds himself captivated by a new politician’s arrival

warnings/tags: 18+ !!! strangers to lovers, mutual pining, more angst in this part, kinda miscommunication-ish, political thoughts/discussions, mentions of clone rights/autonomy, smut in part three

a/n: a little treat for the technical devotion readers in this one (I'll post the final chapter soon I promise), by way of my clone OCs Oscar and Teddy (the loml)! yeah its never mentioned in TD now that I think about it but they’re from howzer's squad on ryloth so… enjoy my baby boys :)

masterlist | join my taglist

Howzer’s whole body felt stiff, and he was sick of it.

Cham was on a comm call with a delegate from the senate, and things were not going well, but all Howzer could think about was getting back to the barracks and sinking into his bunk, tuning out the world and letting sleep take him. It was well past the time that he should usually have been let off duty, as had been the theme of the past few days.

He just wanted to sleep. He hadn’t slept properly in those few days, and he could feel how much it grieved his body. His eyes threatened to close, and he had to pinch himself in a spot between the pieces of his armour to refrain.

After what felt like hours, Cham finally finished the call, the blue hologram figure disappearing and engulfing the room in darkness. It seemed that Cham hadn’t realised how late it had got, but Howzer certainly had. He just remained quiet until he was dismissed. He didn’t have the energy to discuss anything right now, and he hadn’t been paying much attention to begin with. When he was let out of the building, the slight chill in the air was a welcome feeling, brushing against his skin and soothing some of the irritation he felt.

He wasn't irritated at Cham. In fact, he didn't know exactly what he was so irritated about at all. He knew that it was heightened by his lack of rest, but it didn't soothe it much to know that fact. He stretched his neck out as he walked, tipping it from one side and then the other, cringing when he heard a few pops. He'd never been so sore in his life.

His feet took him towards the barracks without much thought, the rest of his body complying for the knowledge of the semi-comfortable bunk that awaited his return.

Howzer loved Ryloth. He loved its climate, it's landscape, its people. Most of all, he loved this time of day; the sun about to lower beneath the horizon, the gentle breeze ruffling his hair, the way the trees swayed gently and made a noise akin to sighing. He loved the way the planet looked as it wound down for sleep.

He wished that he had more time in his life to appreciate it. He had hoped that it would come after the war, that there could be time spared among the peace, but now he found himself being stretched thin in new and foreign ways. He knew he wouldn't get the chance, maybe ever, and the realisation made his jaw grind.

He thought more about what you had said the other day by the lake, about a bill to give clones rights, potentially getting paid for their work, or having the ability to leave the Imperial army. For the first time, Howzer wondered what it would be like to not be a soldier. If he was in control of his own fate, what would he do?

He would stay on Ryloth, he didn't even have to consider anything else. Maybe he'd make up for lost time, travel the planet and explore, find every untouched corner and bask in the evening light without the weight of a galaxy at war on his shoulders. Maybe he'd have a stall at the market, maybe he'd have a family, and his kids would play in the street, kicking up water in the fountain while he watched with that certain kind of smile that he only saw on the faces of parents.

It was wishful thinking, and that's all it was.

Deep inside, he knew he'd never see the day where he was liberated. He clenched his hands into fists as the anger that had been being nurtured in him all day finally rose up to the surface.

It wasn't fair. He'd given so much to the Republic. He'd given his life, he'd lost men, he'd fought with his bare hands for the people that they were supposed to protect, and all the while, the Senators in their ivory towers were the ones who decided his future, his fate. It wasn't fair and he was tired. He was so tired.

Thinking about it only made his head ache. He supposed that was why nothing would ever change. If the clones were kept in a state where they couldn't afford to think about their place in the galaxy, then they could be forced to serve with very little pushback.

Howzer made it to the barracks, his journey having only having made him even more irritated than he had been when he left the senate bureau. He let out a sigh of frustration, trying to relax before he'd have to deal with the chaos of his brothers. He didn't want to snap at them for something that wasn't their fault.

As he strode towards the door, his attention was caught by the noise of a page turning, and he looked over to see you sat beneath your usual tree, a stylus in hand and working it against the page of your flimsibook. He stopped walking and watched you for a moment.

He hadn't seen you since taking you to the lake that day, and even though he was tired, he was now itching to talk to you again. He couldn't help but think that your company might calm his angered thoughts.

You hadn't noticed him yet, and he debated not bothering you, but he quickly lost that argument with himself when he saw you smile at something you'd written. It was so effortlessly charming that his feet started moving on their own, carrying him over to you. When your head lifted and saw him approaching, however, your smile instantly dropped and you slammed your book shut. Howzer halted, unable to stop the pang of hurt that arose in his chest.

“Sorry” he blurted out, “I didn't mean to disturb you”

He turned on his heel and began to walk away before you called his name.

“I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting you” you said, beckoning him back, “did you need me for something?”

Howzer frowned. He wondered what could have made you think his relationship to you should be so transactional, that he would have to have a reason to talk to you besides wanting to.

“No” he shook his head, “I always see you out here though. What is it you're writing?”

“Uh…” you trailed off before you even began, looking down to your book and then back up to him, “it's… well, I— it's just…”

Howzer lifted a brow at the blush that spread over your lilac skin, “you don't have to tell me”

You looked relieved as soon as he said that, “sorry, it's just… private, I suppose”

“I get it” Howzer nodded, “Well I should—”

“Would you like to sit down?” you asked him, patting the spot beside you with a hopeful smile.

Howzer's heart did a small jump, and he walked back over to where you sat. You collected your robes up on one side, draping them over your knees, allowing him to sit close to you. He tried to hide his smile as he sat down, close enough that his shoulder brushed against yours.

He rested his head on the trunk of the tree as he sat back, his breath leaving him slowly as he felt the last rays of the sun hitting his skin and warming him.

“Everything alright?” you asked.

He hummed an affirmative, “just tired”

“I'm not surprised” you commented, “if you've only just got back”

“Yeah” Howzer breathed out, opening one eye to look at you, “how do you know when I usually get back? You been watching me?”

You laughed at the inquisitive edge to his voice, looking down to your lap as you shrugged, “I see you around, the pauldron makes you stand out”

Howzer smiled and closed his eye again. He could already feel his irritation being quelled. The sound of your laugh, the wry curl of your lips, and the twinkle in your eye taking his mind from his previous worries. Your presence distracted him so easily, so much that he hadn't even realised that he was falling asleep until you were waking him up again.

The sound of your voice calling for him brought him out a dream that he soon after forgot. You were stood above him, your expression a little worried, and he blinked a few times as he came back into consciousness fully.

“You should get to to bed”

“Right, yeah” he muttered, taking his head from the tree trunk.

You held your hands out, palms facing towards the sky that now twinkled with the suns of systems far away. He took them gently, letting you help pull him up from the floor, and once stood he looked down at your gentle smile with a fondness. You were close, almost chest to chest with him, and both of you were yet to let go of each other. Howzer skimmed his thumbs over your knuckles, and then stepped back, dropping your hands.

“Let me walk you back” he said quietly, then lifted his hand to cover his mouth as he yawned.

“I think I'll be walking you back today” you replied amusedly.

Howzer huffed a laugh, his eyes darting to the door of the barracks, “I'm only going over there”

“Well maybe I don't trust you not to fall asleep again before you get there”

When his eyes found yours again, he saw more seriousness written into your expression that he had anticipated. It twisted his stomach.

“I'm fine” he murmured, dragging his eyes away as he felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“Mhm, sure”

He didn't want anyone worrying about him, and especially not you. You had bigger things to worry about, and the thought of you pitying him made him feel sick.

“Really, I'm alright” he insisted, trying to sound sincere.

You sighed, gazing up at him with a little tilt of your head.

“You needn't pretend, Howzer” you said softly, “we're friends, aren't we? I'd like you to be honest with me”

The admission of friendship made him wake up a bit more, his eyes brightening, back straightening him to his full height.

“I will be fine” he spoke honestly, a tired smile accompanying his words.

You offered him a smile in return with a slight shake of your head, “you promise?”

Howzer couldn't help the way his lips curled into a smirk. He held his hand up, all fingers curled into a fist but his fifth one, “pinky promise”

A grin spread across your face, lighting your eyes up as a delighted laugh bubbled up from your chest. You hooked your pinky with his, and Howzer had to bite back his own grin so he didn't look utterly ridiculous.

“Go on” you nodded your head over to the door, “go and rest”

“Yes ma'am” he muttered in a mockingly irritated tone.

Truthfully, your actions were tugging at something deep within him, each word pulling his chest taut. You actually cared about whether or not he was okay, and while it wasn't a grand display of affection, it was more than Howzer had received from another person.

You chuckled slightly, “Goodnight. Captain”

Howzer was wholly unprepared for your next act, and he almost let his knees fold and send him tumbling to the floor when you raised to your toes and planted a soft kiss to his cheek. The shock was evident on his face, and he knew his short breath betrayed him when you rocked back onto your heels and smirked at how flustered he was.

He had never been this affected by the actions of another another person like this. Frankly, he wanted to wipe that smirk right off of your face. In fact, all he could think at that moment was how he wanted to have you unable to even form words, at his mercy so the only sound able to pass your lips was his name. Howzer immediately scolded himself for the flurry of thoughts, all birthed from a simple kiss on the cheek. Maker, he needed to reel it back.

“Goodnight” he breathed out.

You tipped your head to him slightly, and then you were gone.

He watched your figure recede, and let his eyes roam down the back of your robe, a deep green dress that held tight to your torso and hung down past the belt at your hips. You turned to look over your shoulder, and gave him another smirk when you caught him staring.

It was then that he heard whispering coming from behind him, and his head whipped around to spot the culprits. As misfortune would have it, the two most meddlesome troopers under his command were stood in the doorway to the barracks, hissing and elbowing the other to be quiet. Howzer sighed. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation to navigate.

He strode over to the pair of them, and they straightened on instinct, though both of them had an expression that betrayed their intrigue.

“Go on, say what you're going to say” Howzer crossed his arms over his chest, struggling not to laugh himself as the two younger clones glanced to each other.

“Are you two screwi—? OW!” Oscar's prying was cut of by a swift kick to the shin by his brother.

“Sorry sir, we were only interested in knowing your relationship to the lady” Teddy explained less crudely, and a small chuckle left Howzer's lips.

They were quite the pair, and against his better judgement, they were among his favourite brothers. Oscar had a permanent case of head stuck in the gutter, but Teddy was always there to put him in his place, the more sensible of the two. Really, they were two sides of the same coin, both of them every bit as nosey as the other.

“She's a friend, not that it's any of your business” Howzer asserted, pushing past them to enter into the barracks.

“Told you” Oscar barked a laugh, causing Howzer to raise an eyebrow at him.

He turned to Teddy, “what exactly did he tell you?”

“He said that a clone like you wouldn't be able to handle a woman that ‘fine’” Teddy spoke candidly, a grin on his face at getting to rat out his brother.

“Oh, and you could?” Howzer asked the first clone, who admittedly looked a little apologetic until he got the chance to show off his practiced act of bravado.

“Absolutely” Oscar smirked broadly, his hands resting on the back of his head as he leaned back into the wall, “when she's tired of you, send her over to me and I'll show her a good time”

“Please” Teddy rolled his eyes, “you wouldn't know a good time if it socked you in the face”

“Shows what you know” Oscar prodded his brother in the stomach, “being socked in the face isn't a good time”

Howzer knew Oscar was all talk. He had seen his many attempts of hitting on women in their infrequent trips to the bar, and it was some pretty poor work, all clichés and boasting. It was lucky he was good with a Z-6 rotary, because off the battlefield he was sorely lacking. Teddy was a little more of a sensitive soul in comparison to his batchmate, weary of treading on other people's toes — Oscar being the exception.

“That's not—” Teddy sighed, “maker, you're stupid”

“Only as stupid as you, brother”

Oscar let them continue their good natured bickering, laying down on his bunk and letting out a deep sigh. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the galaxy, but Howzer was thankful for it in that moment.

His thoughts quickly dwelled on you. It was almost alarming, how quick his mind travelled there when given the freedom to think about anything. As he unclipped the pieces of his armour and slid beneath the sheet of his bunk, the only thing on his mind was your smirk. That maddening expression had its claws in him, tempting him in a way that he desperately tried not to acknowledge. You had just called him your friend, and you were far above him in the grand scheme of things, he couldn't afford to think like that.

Despite that, the expression burned into his brain, taunting him, begging him to give in, and his brain conjured up lewd images without his permission. He pushed them away, but they still lingered despite his attempts.

Howzer gulped. He was in big trouble.

The next few evenings were among the most relaxing times that Howzer had experienced since the end of the war, however ironic that seemed to him.

He sat with you under the tree, and at first neither of you would speak all that much. You sat opposite him, facing him so that he couldn’t see what you were writing in your flimsibook, only looking up to him periodically. Howzer took that same time to rest, and then as the evening turned to night, the comfortable silence turned to pleasant conversation.

You asked about his opinion on a number of matters, and he was embarrassed to admit to you that many of them were things he had never considered before. You didn't treat him as deficient for it, though, instead you helped him form his opinions in asking more questions.

You were very intelligent, that much was obvious to Howzer now. You seemed to have a vast base of knowledge, and you had a certain way with words that told him you were educated, but it was a lot more than that. You were empathetic, which he felt was a better scale for measuring intelligence, especially after the senate discussions he had listened to over the last few weeks.

None of those senatorial representatives had a single kind bone in their body, and their views seemed plainly misguided and frankly stupid for it. You were the antithesis, and that was probably why he was so drawn to you from the beginning.

It was getting harder to pretend that you had no effect on him, and it seemed like you knew that, that you were trying to make it harder. In every conversation, you seemed more flirty than in the one before, and Howzer was beginning to think he wasn’t imagining it. He couldn't return the advances. He was deathly afraid of reading the situation wrong, and he wouldn't lose the comfort of your friendship just because he got a bit ahead of himself.

When he arrived at the tree one day after being let off duty, and you weren't there, he was more than a little confused. You had been there everyday since arriving on the planet, and for a moment he was stricken with a nasty feeling that something was wrong. He waited beneath the tree for a little while, but it was quickly becoming apparent that you just weren't going to be joining him today.

He thought about where you could possibly be, and it crossed his mind that you may just be at your residence. In spite of the thought, he found his feet carrying him out of the city.

The sun was blinding, just beginning to make it's descent below the horizon and lighting the pathway between the trees of the forest as if directing him to the correct place. This walk had always calmed him, so even if you weren't waiting at the end of it, it wouldn't be in vain.

As he approached the lake, he saw the way your robe was laid out on the floor, as if it had been discarded, and at first his heart jumped to his throat. A few more of your belongings were there, your flimsibook and stylus, jewellery and boots. Luckily, before he could get too worried about what might have happened to you, he heard his name called.

His gaze whipped over to the voice, and his eyes laid upon you, treading water in the shaded part of the lake. He could feel the way his heart jumped, beating faster in his chest at the sight.

“What are you doing?” he asked, stepping towards the edge of the lake.

“Taking a dip” you said simply, “you want to join?”

Howzer paused, giving you a somewhat exasperated look, “I really shouldn't”

“Why not?”

Howzer knew why he shouldn't. It was grossly inappropriate, even being friends with a senate official and spending time with them off duty was most likely frowned upon. This felt different though.

“Well, I, uh— I don't have the right… attire” he tried to reason.

“Neither do I” you shrugged.

Howzer’s mind was reeling. He was trying desperately to keep his thoughts in check, but that taunting smirk was decorating your face, and it was probably his greatest weakness.

“Come on Captain, live dangerously” you called over to him, your voice particularly coquettish.

He watched you carefully, trying to find any indication of your intentions in the way you looked at him. It was strange, you were still so hard to read, but he felt like he could see right through you at the same time. You were toying with him in some way, but he couldn't tell why.

His fingers took the lead, and started unclipping his armour with your eyes following his movements, watching as every piece slid from his body. By the time he was peeling back his blacks, revealing tanned skin that very few people had seen before, he couldn't help but think that the way you were drinking him in was far from innocent. It sent a thrill through him, but he was still weary of his thoughts betraying him.

When he'd stripped down to just his underwear, he waded into the water tentatively. It wasn't freezing, but it certainly wasn't warm, and he couldn't stop the way he shivered. As the bottom of the lake fell away, he swam over, joining you in the shade.

Seeing you up close was electrifying. Maybe it was that he hadn't ever seen you without all of the usual opulence of your senatorial garb, or maybe it was the fact that you were only wearing your underwear, but he relished in seeing this different side to you. You were beautiful, and usually it was acknowledged alongside your prestige, but now it was in spite of the absence.

With any identifying items stripped from you, you were just a person, as he was. Suddenly you didn't seem as terrifying, your gentle smile inviting and natural, and Howzer could feel himself becoming even more entranced by you.

“What brought you here today?” you asked.

“I, uh—” Howzer was having trouble focusing, but he realised that he came looking for you, and something about your expression told him you might know that, “you weren't under the tree, I just wondered where you were”

“Why's that?” you tilted your head to the side a little, feigning innocence.

Howzer bit the inside of his cheek as he watched you for a moment. He wouldn't ordinarily speak the truth, but everything about the situation was clouding his mind.

“I like spending time with you” he said honestly, and your eyebrows raised, “is that a surprise?”

“Not exactly” you spoke thoughtfully, “I just didn't expect you to say so”

“Why’s that” he mocked the tone of your voice, which drew a laugh from you that made his smile grow.

“Well, you're usually very restrained”

Howzer raised a brow, shifting marginally closer to you, “restrained?”

You bit the corner of your lip a little, “guarded, then”

“Hm” Howzer hummed, narrowing his eyes, “well… I am a soldier”

You smirked, “that you are”

Howzer cocked his head to the side, as if to ask what was going on in your mind. He felt that he knew you better now, but you were still such an enigma to him. For all that you were calling him guarded, he could only think of a handful of times where you had completely relaxed around him, and spoke in a way that was discernibly candid.

Before he could ask what you meant, you swam closer to him, a lot closer to him.

“How did you get these?” your tone was softer as you reached out and touched the scar on his chin, and then the one on his cheek, rubbing your thumb across it gently.

Howzer could feel the heat of your body through the water with you being so close to him, and the feel of you caressing his face was just too much to deal with. He couldn't speak, and when you looked into his eyes he had to gulp down the saliva that was pooling in his mouth.

“Explosion” he managed to get out, “shrapnel. There— there was a kid, I—’

He found his words stuck in his throat, your gaze and your touch holding them captive as he became absolutely mesmerised.

“You… what?” you prompted, snapping him from his trance.

“I was protecting the kid… from the blast”

The edges of your lips lifted, your eyes crinkling a little, “that's very honourable, soldier”

The word sounded undeniably affectionate, like a nickname of sorts. You took your hand away from his cheek and swam backwards slightly, and Howzer let out a breath that he hadn't realised he was holding in.

“It's just what any clone would have done” he reasoned, his tone a little flippant as he denied your claim.

“Hm” your gaze was scrutinising as you thinned your eyes at him, “I think you're just being modest”

Howzer chuckled, a slightly nervous sound that didn't suit him, “I don't feel very modest right now”

He had said it quietly, more to himself than anything, but you laughed anyway.

“I can look away, if you want?” you teased, and his cheeks heated as he rolled his eyes, forcing his gaze away. “I'll spare you” you grinned, swimming away towards your discarded clothes.

Howzer tried desperately to pull his eyes away from you as you emerged from the lake, but with the way the water was sliding from your skin, crystal droplets that twinkled in the sun as they followed the contours of your body, he simply couldn't.

Suddenly he was struck by how inappropriate this was. He shouldn't be seeing you like this. If anyone found the two of you like this, unclothed and having been so close to each other — whatever the context — he couldn't be sure what would happen to him.

It was forbidden for clones to form relationships, to give themselves to someone other than the Empire, and the Republic before that. You knew this, Howzer knew you did, you must have. You had campaigned for clone rights within the senate, there was no way you didn't know that it was prohibited to get close to him in that way.

Suddenly nothing made sense anymore.

Either you had never been flirting with him in the first place, which was admittedly fine if not a blow to his pride, or you were a whole lot crueller than he had realised. He didn't truly believe that you were capable of a cruelty such as that. He knew you to be kind, he knew you to be caring, far more caring than any Senator he'd ever met. Though, at the end of the day, you were still a politician. Perhaps it didn't matter that you seemed to be concerned with things such as clone rights or the other changes you sought to make to the Senate, perhaps you were still as removed from the general public that you sought your own desires above everything else.

The idea of that being him, however it had excited him previously, now filled him with disgust.

He dragged himself from the lake, quickly dressing in silence, even as the water made his blacks stick to him uncomfortably. He didn't look over at you, some form of animosity washing over him that he tried to brush away. It felt uncomfortable, he didn't want to feel this way about you. It didn't feel right, it was incongruent with how he truly felt, but that was what made everything so confusing.

“Is everything alright?”

He glanced over to you, your expression conveying concern as you did up the final buttons of your robe. Howzer forced his eyes away as he slipped his pauldron into place, “fine”

The word sounded bitter, and he cringed at the harshness of his tone.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your hand laying on his forearm and stopping his movements.

He looked back up, and the compassion in your eyes only sought to make his head spin with conflicting thoughts.

“You shouldn't have done that” the words fell from his mouth without permission, and the way you receded from him, your expression wounded, he raced to add, “I shouldn't have”

Your brows drew together slightly, “done what?”

An enervated noise escaped him, not really willing to admit his feelings for you, especially if he had entirely misread the situation.

“We can't be… close. It's against the rules, against my… code” he mumbled out, his words not sounding as definitive and confident as he wished.

“Oh” your face fell even further, “right, of course. I apologise”

Howzer’s heart lurched at your hurt expression, knowing that he was the one who had caused it. He watched you gather your things, slipping your jewellery back on and with it your authoritative demeanour and stony politician’s mask, and his heart clenched tighter in his chest. You grabbed your flimsibook and stylus, and before he could speak up again to explain himself, you had given him a curt nod and were walking away.

His hand stretched out as if to grab you and stop your leaving, but you were much too far away for that now. He felt a fool, reaching for something that could never be, and a painful sight of his own making.

The next day was difficult, for everyone.

The dispute between Cham, man of the people, and Senator Taa, decidedly the opposite, had reached its climax. It was at the stage of all out disagreement and discussion had given way to argument. There were raised voices, pointing fingers, flaring nostrils, and it was bordering on name calling. Howzer didn't know how to cope with it.

He was inclined to step in and hold both parties back, even if they were at opposite ends of the large wooden table, but he knew that was well beyond his jurisdiction. Everyone else had joined in, not as outwardly outraged as Cham or as vehement as Ora Free Taa, but more animated nonetheless.

Everyone, except you.

Howzer watched the way your teeth ground together, eyes cold and darting around at the other delegates, and he could tell you were far angrier than he'd ever seen you. He wanted to reach out and offer some kind of support, a natural instinct, but he couldn't do anything of the sort, and besides, you would scarcely look at him.

It hurt, as much as it was necessary.

He knew that he had done the right thing, ending whatever there was between you before it began, and for that, he was proud of his restraint, but with the way you turned your gaze from him at every juncture, it certainly didn't feel like it.

So he watched on, his stomach twisted in guilt and his heart reaching out for you despite it all.

Your lip twitched as one of the other senate officials said something so morally reprehensible about the people of Ryloth and how they were viewed by the new Imperial senate, that Howzer actually let out a tiny gasp. Another official backed them up, and soon almost everyone was giving their two credits, the tone of conversation turning more and more sinister as it was being allowed to breed in the hateful speech that was being spewed.

“Stop!” you suddenly shouted above the racket, leaping up from your seat, a fist clenched and slamming into the table.

The room fell silent, and you breathed heavily for a moment before you spoke up again, your tone vicious and scathing.

“I cannot sit by and listen to this hateful drivel any longer. Ryloth deserves better than this, our people deserve more than all of you as their leaders. Do none of you have hearts? Can you not see that acting this way, choosing to go through with these plans, will only drive our planet further towards poverty, towards insecurity and scarcity, is that really what you want for our people?”

Howzer could feel his heart beating out of his chest. Your sudden display of passion and empathy for your people made his knees feel weak, threatening to bring him to the ground. You commanded the room, all eyes turned to you and hanging on every word. He knew that you cared more than the average Senator, but seeing you showcase it made his admiration grow once more.

“Aren't you just an aide? Why should we listen to you?” one of the other Twi'lek's asked, and you released a humourless laugh that sent a shiver running down Howzer's spine.

“I am a senate representative, sir. Do you know what that means?” you asked facetiously, and Howzer's eyebrow raised, an impressed smirk playing on his lips, “I am above you, and you will listen to me when I tell you that your way of thinking will be the downfall of our people. It's people like you that make me—”

“Stand down representative” the firm voice of Orn Free Taa called, and your head twinged to the side to send him a sharp look.

“Senator, surely we can't allow—”

“We will allow nothing, only I can and will decide what action to take. You have no power here, you're nothing, not while I am around” he spoke fiercely, and you backed down immediately, like a wounded animal at the mercy of its predator.

It was hard to watch, the way you sunk into your chair after being scolded, belittled in front of everyone. Your posture was slumped, your face turned downwards and an embarrassed blush scorching your cheeks. Your eyes snapped up for a moment, just enough to catch Howzer's sympathetic gaze and then to tear them away again.

The session was concluded shortly after, the setting sun quelling any arguments as everyone wished to leave the tense environment and get back to their homes for some peace. As soon as you were dismissed, you sped right past Howzer, storming from the room with a deep frown that made his worry for you grow.

He ran after you once everyone else had filed from the room, speeding through the bureau halls and bursting out into the courtyard. You were halfway across it by the time he caught up to you, calling your name even though it didn't make you slow your hurried pace.

Howzer gently grabbed your wrist, tugging on it inadvertently when you didn't immediately stop. You swivelled around, a thoroughly displeased expression contorting your features. His words failed him, not knowing how to comfort you in that moment.

“I'm so sorry” he said earnestly, “he shouldn't get to treat you like that. You're not nothing, don't let his words hurt you”

“I don't care about that” you scoffed, “it's his actions that hurt me, and the way that none of them actually seem to care about what happens to this planet”

“I know, I know” Howzer nodded, his tone soothing as his thumb brushed over your pulse point, “I'm sorry they won't listen to you”

Your eyes dropped to where his hand still enveloped your wrist, bringing your other hand to cover it for a moment, before you removed yourself from his grip.

“Thank you, then” you gave him a tight smile, and as much as it was strained, he could tell it was genuine.

“Can I walk you back?” he asked quietly, locking eyes with you and finding a reluctant tenderness.

“No” you replied curtly, swallowing anymore words that could have found their way past your lips, “goodnight Captain”

For the second day in a row, Howzer watched you walking away from him, your feet carrying you with the same grace despite your more hurried steps. He felt awful that he had thought so lowly of you the previous day, that he had even entertained the idea that you were as selfish and self-important as the other politicians.

He decided then, stood in the middle of the square, that he hated the sight of you leaving him, and that thought would continue to fester uncomfortably within him for the foreseeable future.

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