#Mark’s writing tag

[russilton]

hii mark! can i ask some rb au angst if you feel like it? just love to read anything you write or plain to write about those two if you feel like it!!

Whoops-sorry it appears your ask got lost in the mail (I didn’t know how to answer it for two years, it’s embarrassing how low this sits in my drafts)

Red bull au masterpost

Honestly the weird thing about taking so criminally long to work on this au, is that the real life RBR have fed me more fodder in how they have fucked over their second drivers than I ever could imagine on my own- I felt indulgent and ridiculous writing the original timeline, but honestly all that’s been proven is the real fictional part of George’s arc is not the abuse he receives- it’s that he fights back at all.

I think the best point for angst I’ve never really delved into is the hinge point for when Red Bull snaps and decides they need to reign George in, and that falls dead in the middle of the year long timeline, in Hungary.

Hungary comes directly after Silverstone, which was not exactly a fun time for Red Bull George. It’s supposed to be his home race, he’s finally in a top team, George is absolutely inflated under his own ego, the fact he’s getting fucked by his idol every other week, and he’s got two wins under his belt in his first half a year in a new team go a long way to that. He’s finally proving everything he’s ever told everyone he would be- he’s competing with the best the sport has seen, he’s not fumbling the seat like everyone said he would because he was too soft on Alex, he’s not playing second fiddle to Max like everyone. Told. Him. Or at least that’s how he feels after France and his wins (3 races prior to Silverstone)

Then comes Styria, George is high on his wins, so he doesn’t get mad immediately when Red Bull quite clearly hand Max a favoured strategy and George loses the chance at an undercut. It’s fine, it’s his teammate, they’re closer to Max’s home than his. He bites his tongue, you can’t win them all, he’s still a step above Lewis on the podium even if second feels acrid.

Immediately following Styria is the Austrian GP, same track, same team “home” race, they’re being compelled to impress. In strategy meetings the team keeps mentioning that Max needs wins. George tries not to let it annoy him they seem to be forgetting he’s just as up for the WDC as Max is. When he makes that comment, as casually as he can, someone laughs, Max rolls his eyes. They don’t address it. George feels like he’s missing a joke nobody told him about.

Qualifying rolls around, conditions and timing aren’t quite coming their way as normal, it’s different at a track everyone got to practice a week prior. None of that prepares him for his engineer instructing him on his final fuel up in the garage to tow Max for a final lap. George doesn’t need to do his usual mental math to know he won’t get to set his own competitive lap time doing that. He tries to argue but there’s no time and he’s shut down immediately. Team Orders, Max has seniority, you’ll make places in the race. George ever the competitive fuck does it, but he’s mad about it, livid. When he’s interviewed after Max gets pole, he’s tight lipped other than the necessary mention that team work is important, he’s sure Max will get him back.

Lewis bends him over a table and mocks him about it, about being someone else’s bitch for once. George revels in the chance to push back and assert his own power when, if he thinks about it… he’s really not feeling that powerful, mostly duped. He thinks about it when he misses out on the podium bc the redbull ring is a shit track to overtake at, and the team don’t seem to care to console him whatsoever. Max won, cheer up, it’s what the team needs (George feels like some of them sure didn’t look as happy when he won in France)

Silverstone rocks up next, George pushes it to the back of his head. The Ring is the teams home race, even if they’re based in Milton Keynes, Silverstone is GEORGES home race, it’s supposed to be where he gets to shine. He gets some interviews with Lewis and Lando to parade that patriotism around a bit, he doesn’t care for Lando, but Lewis seems bouyed as much by the home crowd as he is, he laughs easier and some of that antagonism fades a bit as Lewis sees him more as a parallel than a rival. Then comes getting in the car and it all goes down hill from there.

There’s changes to his set up, things that might suit Max but not him, it makes it harder to case out the track when he’s fighting Max’s driving style in his own car balance. In qualifying they make him tow. Again. George is practically apoplectic, but he qualifies well enough to grit his teeth and bare it, he’ll still be near the front, he can fight for a podium at home. His parents aren’t in the garage, something about not wanting to distract him, George can’t tell if that worked at all. Lewis gives him a nod though in parc ferme and George can chase away the burning wrong a little further.

But the race is a nightmare. Max and Lewis collide, Max hits the wall. George privately thinks that Max was an idiot for thinking Lewis wouldn’t fight extra hard at home, he would have done it too, but then he’s focused on winning. If he pushes hard enough, maybe he can fight Lewis for it, wouldn’t that be all he wanted.

George doesn’t get what he wants in this story.

They fuck his pit stop, it’s late called and George has to practically demand it down the radio, his team insisting on holding out to interrupt Hamilton and his penalty. George doesn’t understand it in the wash of adrenaline and what that matters more than his own progress. By the time George gets out on track he barely gets any time to fight Lewis at all as Lewis cruises by on well seasoned tires. His engineer sounds angry he didn’t hold Lewis up more despite George knowing attempting that on cold tires would have been a death wish for them both.

He makes good places, he’s got third almost in the bag at the end of the race when the team pulls him in. He doesn’t get it, he argues till they tell him to get in and get his soft tires to run for fastest lap, without room for argument. George gives up places at home, where it mattered most, because Redbull wanted to do anything and everything to take points from Lewis, even if it meant George losing his own in the process. George can barely understand it through the haze of anger and frustration, especially in debrief when all anyone will talk about is lodging an appeal against Lewis.

When Lewis fucks him that night, winner of Silverstone once again, he asks George why he defends a team that don’t seem to give a shit about him. George storms out, but he doesn’t stop thinking about it in the weeks break. It eats at him, the fact Red Bull would rather he lose if Lewis lost a point, than see George on a podium.

On comes Hungary. The culmination of multiple races of frustration bubbling up in George, rolled in with Lewis being less than kind and tactful but maybe too truthful in their secret meetings. George is a tapped powder keg, Redbull strategy barely notices him, convinced Max will win and all their planning that will provide that. But, low and behold, in the race, George’s leading Lewis whose leading Max

George knows he can’t win realistically, part of his car nose is broken, his tires are old, but he’s trying. Red Bull don’t care through, as they tell him to hold up Lewis so Max can catch up and take the lead. They tell him to hold the line just to give it to max again.

George snaps. And in an act of utter lack of self preservation he lets Lewis by, barely fighting beyond appearances, hands it to Lewis on a silver platter. As the team are sighing and chalking it up to a fuck up they have no faith in him from preventing Lewis, to prove them wrong, George proceeeds to deliberately fight Max and block him from passing. He defies team orders (they’re in the final handful of laps preventing a drawn out Lando Oscar debacle), and proceeds to hold the line all the way up to the checkered flag.

The post race podium is something to behold, Lewis doesn’t understand what just happened, he knows George let him by, he knows George’s driving style by now and he, if he admitted it to himself, enjoys the fighting with him. George is clean and feisty, but this wasn’t that, and Lewis is frankly a little mad to be deprived of it, and because he can’t stand being handed things.

Meanwhile Max is fuming and about ready to punch George in the face, there had already been a ice cold confrontation in parc ferme, the redbull mechanics in the pit lane clap for Max and shake his shoulder, they stare down George and the slaps on his back are for the cameras and hard enough they hurt a bit. George remains defiant through it all, set jaw and arched brows that demand well, I’ve played my hand, the fuck are you going to do about it.

After the interviews and press, Lewis tries to find George. He’s fuming, ready to blow off some steam, itching to engage in their usual fights that lead to something rushed in a bathroom or at least some kind of heated make out. He wants to know why George gave him the win, if it was some kind of pity move or ego play, he wants answers, but as he finally catches sight of George, he’s being frog marched through the paddock flanked by annoyed looking redbull engineers, a red faced Horner and a downright murderous looking Marko. They’d clearly all hung around to see George’s media interviews, if he’d explained himself. Lewis doesn’t think they liked the answers they got

Lewis has to drop the bone there, he’s been in his own angry debriefs, George won’t be free any time soon and everyone is itching to wrap for the summer break so they can all get some rest from the first half of the season. He settles for taking a wanky photo of the trophy and posting it to his instagram with a caption that has him maybe hoping it’ll bait George into texting him so they can do something in the break. Lewis doesn’t exactly want to think about WHY he wants to see the annoying twink he fucks in his free time.

George doesn’t respond. In fact, Nobody sees hide nor hair of him for the entire summer break.

[consultingfujoshi]

some thoughts wrt the two established "romances" in severance so far (burt/irving and helly/mark) inspired by @figmentof who pointed out how irving had to find out mark and helly kissed from the corporate video in s2 e1 and how he must have felt seeing his co-workers' love affair like portrayed like that, and how it ties into the queer narrative at play here which uses workplace dynamics and policies as very clear analogues for real-life prejudice against queer couples. I mean, just look at this:

it's not just documented, but celebrated. used as propaganda for how the conditions on the severance floor have improved. proof that the severed workers are happy. and how even though he is unaware of the sociopolitical meaning of all this, lumon is very not-subtly telling him that what he had with burt is inherently lower and less valuable than this.

irving doesn't even know homophobia exists and yet he is still affected by it, it still seeps into every corner of the way his and burt's romance progresses. burt is positioned as an unacceptable love interest from the jump. irv is actively discouraged at every turn from pursuing it. their friendship is viewed with disgust and apprehension from their coworkers. burt working in a different department that's hated by MDR. dylan himself not being homophobic in the sense he opposes their relationship because they're both men but his attempts to keep them apart still has a parallel sort of prejudice behind it and still ultimately has the same effect as if it WERE driven by homophobia. irving is made to feel perverse for wanting contact with burt. he's told this is for his own good.

and then, just as they manage to overcome that immediate resistance from their peers and escape to a place where they can explore this blossoming romance on their own terms, burt retires. for all it matters to irv, he's dead. and then irving is given the option to live the rest of his life with grief that will never heal, or kill himself too, because there is no reality where they get to be together. that's just the way things are. of course they wouldn't get to be together. he was unreasonable and childish for ever hoping that could happen. this is just the way it goes for innies. he's told to get ahold of himself and not make a scene.

but the thing is, the standards are not the same for all. a heterosexual romance gets upheld as the shining example of success and fulfilment for the severed employees, whilst a homosexual romance is ridiculed and invalidated, and written off as something that was simply never meant to be. and even more importantly to irving, a heterosexual romance is APPROVED OF by lumon, and by extension, by kier. irv held back from allowing himself to even call his and burt's relationship a romance, because his god had told him it was wrong, he followed the handbook, thinking this was what kier wanted, and then finding out after suffering the worst heartbreak imaginable because of it, that this WASN'T EVEN TRUE. it's simply just that someone like HIM doesn't get to have something like this. his love is not the kind of love god wants. he does not approve of irv's love. cynical and manipulative though that approval may be (even within the context of the corporate video, the helly/mark romance is only being celebrated to further the narrative that lumon care for their workers, but the point still remains that it was THEIR romance specifically used to suit this end), when your entire life has been in pursuit of that approval, it must be devastating to learn it was never on the cards for you.

he and burt even used the fact kier met and fell in love with his wife in the same circumstances as them to justify this to each other - and they were RIGHT, god does approve of falling in love with your coworkers - this simply just doesn't apply to them specifically. and if irving needed any more proof that he no longer has a place at lumon, that he's better off not existing at all than existing with this pain that cannot be remedied, pain that won't even be acknowledged for what it is, a symptom of a sickness which plagues the entire severance system, pain that he is simply expected to choke down and get over - this is that proof.

and that's the POINT. they're TELLING us that this is unjust, and there's a double standard. they're using the ways the innies experience romance and the difference in lumon's reaction (lumon being the collective of all the management we've seen, lumon as a singular entity) to burt/irving vs helly/mark to comment on how queer people are not afforded the same level of respect or validation IN REAL LIFE, for their attachments, their love, their pain, their suffering. it is NOT just incidental that irving's romance is with a man. it would not WORK if his love interest was a woman. the POINT is that they are both men and how that puts them at a disadvantage, even if they aren't aware of the prejudices of the outside world, even if they don't TECHNICALLY apply on the severance floor, there are very clear analogues which still end up oppressing them in equivalent ways that they would be suffering if this were a normal workplace in the outside world.

it genuinely sickens me to my stomach that even in a world so divorced from reality and the sensibilities of regular society, a queer couple is still made to suffer and feel inferior in a way that perfectly mirrors their real-life counterparts. how they will never, EVER be allowed to exist in a world where their love could thrive freely and uninhibited - they never get to taste the joy our world has to offer people like them, but they are still somehow subjected to all the pain it has to offer them regardless. it's such horrifically devastating writing. it makes my skin crawl. I can't stop thinking about it

[riggedtrap]

me leaving the doc after writing one paragraph

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[bathroomtrapped]

my sister told me to caption this 'two lovely men' without any context so heres two lovely christian saw men 👍🏻

[sforzesco]

--or perhaps,' continues Octavian. 'You're angry that I've outplayed you at your own game because you were too busy fucking in your old master's house to notice anything that was going on around you.'

He smiles suddenly, bright and wide. 'Enjoy the party, Marcus.'

this scene takes place sometime after philippi, and was originally just some historical fiction I was writing last year for fun focusing on antony, octavian, and agrippa. then I got stressed out watching the new season of a show, started drawing while it played, and ended up turning it into a short comic lmao

the dialogue in this scene is referencing this bit out of Suetonius:

In early youth he incurred the reproach of sundry shameless acts. Sextus Pompey taunted him with effeminacy; Mark Antony with having earned adoption by his uncle through unnatural relations; and Lucius, brother of Mark Antony, that after sacrificing his honour to Caesar he had given himself to Aulus Hirtius in Spain for three hundred thousand sesterces, and that he used to singe his legs with red-hot nutshells, to make the hair grow softer. What is more, one day when there were plays in the theatre, all the people took as directed against him and loudly applauded the following line, spoken on the stage and referring to a priest of the Mother of the Gods, as he beat his timbrel: "See'st how a wanton's finger sways the world?"

Suetonius Augustus 68

what a fun group of people!! they should all eat each other

[tartagliove]

Thinking about fox shifter!Childe who loves to chase bunny shifter!Reader. He chased you when he first met you, fox paws pinning you down in your squirming rabbit form, until you wore yourself out and he took you home with him. But after he knows you, he still loves the chase.

The tinge of instinctual fear intermingled with nervous thrill in your scent makes his blood pump. His fox ears are out, tail streaming behind him as he chases after you, following the noises you make as you bound and leap through the forest, trying to stretch out the distance between you and him.

You’re fast, but Childe has trained tirelessly over the years to hone his senses and master his body—both human and fox form, and the in-betweens. So he gains on you, your scent growing stronger to the point he can almost taste it.

He can tell you’re tiring.

Once he closes the distance and catches you, hands wrapping around your waist and spinning you around, he pushes you up against a tree. Before you can get a word out, he tears through the sleeve of your shirt with sharp claws, his fox features still present with the adrenaline running through his veins. Your noise of surprise is ignored. He swipes his tongue along your neck, savoring the taste of your skin: slightly salty from running, but your sweet scent is so strong here. Childe can hear your blood pumping, see your pulse fluttering, and he can’t help himself.

He bites.

Sinks his teeth into your skin, where your neck curves into your shoulder. You whine in shock at the sting of pain, but a shiver runs down your spine. His canines are sharper than a normal human’s, but he takes care to not break skin—this time.

He pulls back slowly when you thump your fist into his chest.

“Get off! Why did you have to go and tear my top?”

Childe runs his tongue over his teeth. He can taste you on his tongue, in his mouth, and he grins. “You ran from me.”

Your fingers brush over his bite mark. “I thought that was the whole point of what we planned,” you complain. “Why am I getting punished for it?”

“That’s not a punishment,” he says, blue eyes darkening. “It’s a reminder that I’ll always catch you, no matter how far you run.” He’ll be satisfied with the possessive mark left on your neck for now. It will fade in a few days, but that will be the perfect excuse for him to chase you again.

[fallminlove]

[10:14]

It’s been really hard to keep it together for the past several days. You just broke up with your partner of several years, though it wasn’t a nasty break up, something, felt like it was missing.

You had to push your thoughts aside and continue on with your life, you still have to make ends meet, no matter how much you’re hurt.

By being around your coworkers you seem to be able to distract yourself a bit. The small talks with them, having your supervisor explain the new project, you were able to prioritize other tasks before your feelings.

Soon the workday ends, and on your way back to your apartment, the emptiness crawls back to your mind and body and almost takes possession of you.

Needing to shake this feeling off, you got off the next stop on the bus. The stop was by a local park, not too far down there were neighborhood of houses that each had their own quirks.

You walked into the park to wander around, looking at the greens and hear the birds chirp, no thoughts, what so ever.

But emptiness is so hard to get rid of, because what are you suppose to forget if there were nothing there to begin with?

You sat down on a bench, looking toward the sky. Tears starts welling up in your eyes, the feelings has to escape somewhere.

There was a boy in a snapback and some athletic clothing nearby, seemingly out on a run for his workout. You quickly wiped away the tears from your face and took several deep breathes, so you don’t make strangers worry for you in public.

Unfortunately this boy was no stranger.

The boy jogged closer to you and you recognized who this non-stranger was, “Vernon?” you called out, you weren’t sure if it was him since it’s been a bit since you saw him.

When you said his name, the boy gives a smile, “I thought I was seeing someone I knew! I think it’s been 8 years since we seen each other!”

“Right, ever since I moved I don’t think I saw you again,” you thought back at the memories you’ve had with Vernon. He was a childhood friend, whom also was your neighbor. After your family move to the other side of town, the two of you have lost connections.

While you were deep down in your memory lane, Vernon noticed your puffy eyes and slightly red nose and cheeks, “hey are you alright? You seem like you’ve been crying”

You flustered by his questioning and you hesitated for a bit, which to him seems like you didn’t want to answer, “it’s alright if you don’t want to tell me, but just want to know I’ll be here to listen if you ever need anyone”

You smiled and nodded, “thank you Vernon, something happened recently and I’ve just not been in the right place of mind… I will explain to you once I’m ready…” the words came out fragilely as if it can break from a slight touch.

Vernon took off one of his earbuds, and hands it to you, “I’m not good with my words for comfort… But I can share my earbuds with you?”

[itscalledsawpollscuzyousawpolls]

obviously there are quite a few add-ons/combinations and I can’t include everything, so drop your combo in the notes! i’m predicting a lawrence hoffman amanda sweep though

[spyroforlife]

Wild Kink Life

It's another day on the Wild Life SMP and a spicy new wildcard has activated, making all the players insatiably horny while also unable to get off unless they figure out the specific random kink that's been assigned to each of them. It's going to be a very interesting day. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 18,844 Chapters: 9 (technically only 8, the first 'chapter' on the site is an index)

Hahaha WHEEE. Got this idea from a Discord server, it rattled around in my brain for a bit, and I decided to write it. This has like no plot. Literally just a 'session' of filth and no progress gets made whatsoever, so like. It can take place in between sessions honestly, all that you need to know is everyone is still alive and snails have happened, otherwise the timing is up to interpretation. It's PWP who cares

There is so much in this one, multiple pairings and kinks, so. Just visit the fic page to see all the tags, and the first chapter is an index that goes into even more specifics. Yuh

[russilton]

And I will leave you Notes - PLEASE because I’m shaking in advance

MY BELOVED FIRST BABY, MY BEGINNINGS, THE 20K I DON’T KNOW HOW TO FINISH BUT CAN’T LET GO OF

The first Gewis fic I ever worked on, was meant to be a 5+1 about intimate touch, evolved into a fic about George’s entrance to Merc in 22 that both is too slow to be a simple get together but too fast to count as slow burn

I love her so much I wish I had the confidence to figure out how to finish it and post it — but either way this fic was a learning experience I will never not love

[emry-stars-art]

You may ask “Emry how do you imagine it goes down if Neil and Andrew are comfy enough to use the pool they miraculously have to themselves”

Shameless flirting and simply enjoying each others company ✨

[little-flowers]

The feminine urge to rewrite the heroes of Olympus series (specifically SON) and make it sadder (and more angsty)

Like Percy without Annabeth would go batshit insane right? Or should I say Perseus would go insane.

The whole Percy memory thing is kinda glanced over. He gets his memories back by MOA. The second he sees his Annie he’s okay. And then we’re done with it.

But what if it didn’t work like that? He loves Annabeth that bond hera wont break. But he doesn’t know everything about her. He knows thats his entire world. But he doesn’t know why.

Jason didn’t know about the legion. Or any of his time there. He still doesn’t have all his memories about that despite going home.

Why does Percy get that?

Imagine Him doing a move and leo being like “where’d you learn that?” And he just blanks, Luke’s name slipping from his brain.

Him back at camp, seeing someone (like clariesse or Katie. Not his best friend but they’ve definitely talked.) and them being happy he’s okay, and he just doesn’t know them. Them trying to remind him who they are. And he just doesn’t know.

Percy getting his Achilles curse memories back, and he doesn’t remember that its gone. Going headfirst into battle, unaware of the potential for injuries.

Percy hearing sally make a mean joke about gabe and he just doesn’t know who he is. He knows he hates alcohol. But not why.

Percy not remembering everything.

He knows what hurts but not why it does.

Yeah heroes of Olympus but sad

[lilacthebooklover]

me, looking at the most toxic, awful, horrendously unhealthy fictional relationship in the world: why can't i have what they have? :(

[starry-bi-sky]

thomas wayne au excerpts - things that could've been part of a grander fic except there's no grander fic

thomas wayne au - an au i made last year where danny is literally just. thomas wayne. his full name was Daniel Thomas Fenton and he started going by Thomas Nightingale after he was disowned. because of course. here is a link to the first post if anyone wants to see a more in depth view of the au (its also the start of me using the ‘danny fenton is not the ghost king’ au lmao

additional info: bruce is the result of a failed cloning attempt from vlad - vlad used a combination of danny's dna and an unnamed girl (Martha's) to make him to try and balance out the ectoplasm use. this resulted in a slightly liminal but otherwise completely human and stable baby boy. Bruce is, by all accounts, Danny's biological son. Danny named him Bruce

Danny was 24 when he died, he took in Bruce when he was 16. He is, so far, a single father in this au. (But if I WERE to add martha she wouldn't be sam or a DP character but rather a separate character on her own.)

Essentially they would go as:

Martha, 19: water does terrifying things to corpses

Danny, 19, half ghost: *heart eyes* really? tell me more they're morticia and gomez your honor

---- Like starlight -----

Bruce's father could light up a room. He was like a sun, his gravitational field could just pull you in, and before you knew it you'd be orbiting around him like one of his many planets.

He's seen it in action before, in the rare moments Thomas Wayne would allow him to accompany him to the socialite events he went to; the fundraisers; the charities. Bruce, as tall as his father's waist, would cling to his leg and watch as people drifted towards him and his star-blinding smile.

It's fitting that his father's favorite thing in the world were stars, he fit right in with them.

As an adult, Bruce has tried copious amount of times to mimic him. To try and capture a fraction of that light, that charm, in his own act - but here's the thing. Thomas Wayne wasn't made of starlight only in front of the cameras, he was made of starlight outside of it as well.

(So when older socialites laugh and tell him he's so much like his father, Bruce just thinks they are liars. They've only ever seen the Thomas Wayne his father showed them, Bruce is nothing like his father.)

In the manor, whatever room he stepped into seemed to brighten, and maybe it was just Bruce's own child-memory fuzzing it to raise his father onto a pedestal, but he stands by it. His father was a solar system, his very own galaxy. Bruce was just the lucky planet that was close enough to orbit him.

--------- arrival time ------

Ancients, ancients, what the fuck convinced Danny to ever go to Gotham of all places? Crime Capitol of the world? He's not sure, but he's been wandering around the country for the last few months, swapping between flying late at night as Phantom, and taking the busses and trains when he had the money, and was too exhausted to fly.

And of course, what convinced him to come here with his kid no less, who was just at the cusp of turning a year old? Whose curiosity of the world was growing greater by the day? Who wanted to look around and explore, and was growing tired of being held at all hours of the day by his father.

But he was going to be held, at least for as long as they were in Gotham for. He didn't trust the stuff on the sidewalks, and he didn't trust the people walking on it. Bruce was tiny, and Danny would lose his mind if he lost him in a crowd.

In his arms, Bruce whined and wriggled, pushing at his shoulders in the signature way he did when he wanted to be let down. Danny tightened his hold, and adjusted his place on his hip.

"I know, bumblebee." Danny muttered, resting his chin on Bruce's small head. His hair was still thin, but it was dark and soft, and tickled his throat a little. "But not yet, I need to find somewhere for us to stay first."

He needed to find somewhere for them to stay, permanently. He couldn't keep living like this, and he couldn't let Bruce grow up like this either. Constantly moving, homeless, unsure of when he was going to eat next? It wasn't good for him. But he needed to find a city he liked, and after that? He wasn't sure. Where did he start?

But Bruce doesn't like his answer, he whines at him, louder, and his wriggling increases. He wants down, he wants to move. They were in a new place again, he wanted to explore. He's too little to fully understand what his dad's saying. "Dada." He said, his voice thick with the accent of a child first learning to speak.

"I know," Danny repeats, stressing the word as his eyes flitted about. There was a park nearby -- maybe he and Bruce could stop there for a bit. Bruce could move around, and Danny could figure out his next move.

It was getting dark, he didn't want to be out in Gotham when it was dark. Shuffling, he moved the inside of his jacket to wrap around Bruce better. It was getting cold, too. Last winter with Bruce had been hellish - Bruce's liminality meant that Danny's immunity to the cold hadn't been passed down to him. Danny had spent all winter terrified that Bruce was going to get sick and die. He didn't want to go through that stress again, especially now that Bruce would be moving.

He hoped they could find new living arrangements soon.

---- dniwer eht klolc - clockwork's conversation ---

Laughing quietly as Bruce ran out of the room, Danny turned his attention back to the mirror, his fingers curled around the knot of his tie. They'd been planning this outing for weeks since the movie was first announced, and Danny wasn't going to let anything ruin tonight.

Humming under his breath, his hands fell from his tie and he steps back. They were leaving in half an hour, at best, but experience from the last six years has taught Danny that he wants to be ready before then.

In his reflection, the clock behind him stops ticking, and a wave of nothing washes over him, a subtle shift he's gotten used to that was the sensation of time stopping. Ticking, soft and coming from all four sides of the room, filled his ears.

Danny's smile drops. And behind him, Clockwork swirled into existence like a blackhole reversing its pull. "Don't go out tonight, Thomas." He says, his voice stern.

That wasn't happening.

He reaches up to push back a loose strand of hair out of his face. "Does something happen to Bruce, Clockwork?" He asks, his voice deceptively calm. That would be the only reason he would postpone tonight. If it endangered Bruce, then he would just have to break the news to him that they'd have to go tomorrow.

In the reflection, Clockwork's lips thinned, pressing together tersely. He looked tense, the grip on his staff was tight, tighter than Danny's seen it before in recent years. And it worried him a little.

Clockwork is silent for a few seconds, hesitant, before he finally speaks. "No, Bruce will be fine." He says, and uncharacteristic of him, he shuffles, "But--"

Ah, good then. Danny's smile returns briefly across his face. Then it could be something Danny can handle. "But nothing then, Clockwork." He says, interrupting the Ancient firmly. He leans back slightly to look over himself again in the mirror, before going to undo his tie. He's changed his mind about it.

"Boo has been looking forward to our movie all week, I'm not crushing his hopes by changing my mind last minute." In just a few seconds the tie was off his neck and tossed onto bed behind him. And Danny was reaching over the dresser beside him to grab a pearl necklace, he normally didn't wear it, it belonged to Mrs. Wayne and he inherited it after she and Mr. Wayne passed away last year. It wouldn't hurt to wear it for a special occasion like this.

Clockwork's lips tightened, and his shoulders tensed up. "Thomas," He says lowly, "Please."

...Clockwork never said please. Danny's never heard him say please in the last ten years he's known him. This... must have been pretty serious -- but, his core tugged at him. He couldn't cancel without finding the reason why. Bruce was so important to him, Danny couldn't break his heart with this without learning why. He wouldn't allow it, and neither would his core.

He hooks the necklace around his neck and turns to face Clockwork, frowning deeply. "Does something happen tonight?" If he knew the reason -- he just needed to know the reason.

Clockwork stares at him, and something that Danny can't catch appears across his face. "...I cannot tell you." He says after a long moment, his voice quiet.

That... is not the answer Danny wants. He won't cancel.

He frowns. "If something happens tonight..." He says slowly -- Clockwork said that Bruce is unharmed. That must mean Danny was able to handle it. He allows himself to smile reassuringly, and he steps forward to clap a hand on Clockwork's shoulder. "Then I will handle it, alright? I promise."

He gets no response back. Clockwork's expression unreadable as he nods silently - Danny's anxiety curls in his gut. He's being so unlike himself. But he shakes Clockwork's shoulder gently and steps around him, leaving the room.

After a minute, he feels time return to normal.

[sforzesco]

lupercalia, babyyyy! and suddenly, mark antony appears—

this is a re draw of a comic I posted back in October! If I bothered to keep track of dates, I would’ve scheduled this post weeks in advance and for much earlier in the day like I do with the Ides of March lmao

Nicolaus, Life of Augustus 72, trans. Mark Toher

⭐ other places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app