#he thought there had been someone else besides Ra who did that

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 4 - "Do you even know what this means?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

Tim stared at his family with pure exhaustion before letting out a sigh while covering his face with his hands because of the worried looks they were sending him after his long rant.

It had all started with a stupid school project. It was just supposed to be a stupidly simple school project. Did he think of the whole thing as the greatest nonsense project his school has ever come up with? Yes. Did he still do it? Yes. He needed the extra credits, because of some stupid meetings he had missed other projects which was the entire reason he took part in this one.

Maybe he should have tried buying his grade out of it like all the other snobbish rich kids but then he would feel guilty and the moment Alfred found out, he would have to life with the disappointed™ look. Something he really didn't want to deal with. So instead he took part in this stupid ancestry project his school had organized.

But when he had allowed the school to send in his DNA he certainly did not expect the result he got back. Because when he opened the email, he noted that it was addressed to someone named Danny Fenton not Tim Drake, he didn't even read the rest really. That should have been his first warning.

His second warning was when he had hacked into the that DNA testing facility to actually get his results back and then found a note on his data file about a near 100% DNA match to one Danny Fenton which caused them to assumed that Tim was Danny and just had sent in his DNA a second time after, he peaked through his finger onto the screen, 5 years. That should have been his second warning.

But no, Tim had actively ignored all the warnings and decided to dig into who this Danny Fenton was. Because there were so many possibilities of how they could match but only so little to explain the time difference between them sending in the DNA samples. For dear good Tim hoped to all things that there wasn't someone else to have attempted to clone him before Ra, no worse even, he hoped HE wasn't the clone in this situation.

Really he didn't want to add existential crisis to all the problems and cases he already had to deal with.

So what does one do best when they learn there was someone with nearly the same DNA you have? He looked that someone up. So that was what Tim did next. He had spent nights looking up anything he could find, summarizing all the information he found, branching off when he found other concerning stuff and then stewed in some frustration of the incompetence of some people when discovering other facts.

In the end Tim compiled all the data he had found into a 30 slides long power point. That he had presented to his family and was awaiting their reaction. Bruce had grunted earlier and the demon brat had huffed out something in between slight 25 and 26 earlier. Jason had muttered something right at the beginning and Dick had stayed quiet the entire time, so did Cass. Steph hadn't said a thing either and Duke looked just puzzled.

"Do you even know what that means?" Demon brat finally broke the silence, causing Tim's eye to twitch before aggressively pointing to his last slide still on the presenter.

"Yes, I do know what this means. I have listed all possibilities right here if you haven't noticed. And i explained possibility three, four and six on slide-"

"Replacement. I don't think that's what the brat means." Jason cut in and Tim glared at him.

"Timmy, when was the last time you slept?" Dick carefully asked and Tim directed his glare at him.

"I believe Master Timothy hasn't slept for about 72 hours now." Alfred added in with that disapproving stare of him and time looked away stubbornly. How was the amount of sleep he got relevant right now? There was a possibility of him being a clone or someone having cloned maybe even years before he started to follow B around as a kid with a camera.

Bruce let out a sigh and Steph appeared to try to hide a chuckle leaning on Cass shoulder. "He must be lacking sleep if he doesn't see the most obvious possibility considering the time line he presented on slide 18."

"Oh so, I am not the only one thinking he is missing another obvious possibility?" Duke asked and once more Tims eye twitched. Getting fed up with his family, Tim huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at them all.

"And what is it that I am obviously missing?"

"The screenshot of the mail you put in slide 3 stated that it's not a 100% match but 89%. In addition it stated in the last line a suspected possibility of a familiar relation. I am disappointed, Drake. That you would miss something this obvious."

"What?" Tim whirled around going to the slide to reread the mail.

"Considering that I am pretty sure, we don't have any sort of cloning case here Tim." Dick started his voice now slightly laced with Humor and Tim narrowed his eyes at his older brother over his shoulder. "You just discovered that you had a twin, that we probably still go to rescue."

Tim's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He did not know what to say and before he could even catch up with what his brothers had said Alfred was already behind him pushing him towards the elevator.

"It is time for you to get some sleep Master Timothy. I am sure Master Bruce and the others will be perfectly able to handle the rest of the situation with the information you compiled. You can join them after you have rested."

[hello-eden]

Never Hidden

Stephanie was bored. 

Bored

Bored

Bored

bored 

bored 

It had been a slow week. 

There was an Arkham breakout three weeks ago and they finally rounded up the last of them. there's always a few stragglers but everyone seemed to be checked off the list.

She wasn't assigned to any new cases and she's grounded from Missions outside of Gotham for bedazzling the Batmobile last month. It's only like another week but it still feels so long. 

She just finished her homework so now honestly she's just looking for something to do. She's honestly just messing with the bat computer until Jason walks in.

"What are you doing here” Jason says pausing after taking his helmet off, looking confused. "I thought you'd be off with Cass” 

“Grounded from outside missions” Stephanie replies turning the computer chair around “When do you get back in town”

“ Not even an hour ago” Jason says as he moves to her "What are you doing there, a case?”

 “Nah” Stephanie says that she turns back to face the back computer “ I don't got any Active cases, I looked at a couple of in Active cases but ehh”

 “So what are you doing” Jason finally reaches her and stops to look 

 “Honestly just playing around with the controls and snooping” Stephanie pulls up a file on the bat computer “Did you know Damien downloaded his Cheese Viking game onto the bat computer”

“Really” Jason laughs out

“Really, see” Stephanie says that she shows Jason the file “OMG this has been on here for 10 months

 “Bruce didn't even let me download stuff he uninstalled Zelda when I tried.”

 Stephanie and Jason continue to chat and work through the files on the back computer or at least the ones they have clearance to access. Eventually they get bored and start Looking through the Security camera

The only person in the house was Tim. He wasn't really doing anything exciting but he was on the phone. They watched him for a minute just checking to see what he would do.

They were about to switch off when he started yelling at whoever was on the phone. Both Stephanie and Jason were startled. They zoomed in and turned on the audio.

“I don't have time for your shit Ras.” Tim basically screamed into his phone. 

Stephanie's a little surprised that Alfred didn't come walking in to check what's going on.

 “you're the one who messed up, so clean up your own messes.” Tim then listens to Ras on the other line speak. "if you learned you know boundaries and actually tried for once then maybe Dan wouldn't be trying to Stage a coup.”

“ Why is Ras talking to Tim about a coup?” Jason asked as he looked over to Stephanie with a raised eyebrow.

 Jason thought he'd been away for a while but not long enough for this to happen.  

“I have no idea.  Every time he talks to me about Ras it sounds like he'd Rejoice if he dropped dead. I didn't even know Tim had his number let alone that they talked.” Stephanie started trying to think of any missions or crises that could have happened for the two of them to talk. 

“ he does not get that from me, the entire want for power thing is entirely your fault.“ Tim pulled out a second phone from the bag beside him and looked to be texting someone else as he was listening to the person on the phone. 

”I'm texting Dan as we speak I'll figure out what's going on that would make your controlling ass happy.” Tim pauses to listen to the other end of the phone.

 “Good.” Tim rolls his eyes and then hangs up the phone. 

“That man does not do anything useful.” Tim seems to say to an empty room probably not expecting to be spied on by two bored vigilanties.

 What the hell was that both Stephanie and Jason thought to themselves.

[sleepyanya]

□—┆SOMETHIN’ STUPID , frank sinatra

— prompt… he really couldn’t help but admire your raw beauty as you spoke so gracefully. you always seemed to maintain a captivating smile throughout conversation, no matter the topic. and for a split second, a moment of peace bristled by… the unanticipated words of “i love you” fall from his lips. wait… what?

— gn.reader x (pre-crash) curly , small fic i cooked up >_<

— cw; perchance some angst

captain curly, the type of man who you’d dream about in your deepest slumber. someone who exudes such charisma and brilliance was hard to come by—an attitude so confident you’d think he was faking it. but he wasn’t, he was true. he was real. so when you’d first met the captain, you were slightly taken back. smile so charming it made you fuel with slight jealously. then, you’d remember how hard you had taken your first month on the tulpar. heart aching and mind reaching out for the safety back on earth. it was non other than the captain who’d console you, warm hand rubbing circles on your back. his voice was, oh so, deep and sweet as he spoke positive affirmations into the stuffy spacecraft air. it sure was hard to be jealous of a man with such greatness. from then on, you never doubted curly as captain.

he had your trust. truly the only member amongst the crew you found yourself coming to when free from your daily duties. even though it was unlikely the both of you would be on break together, the moments you did were filled with flashed smiles and shy laughter. you recalled a particular night where oatmeal was served for dinner. you sat across curly who made easy conversation with you. well, that’s what it seemed like to you. the man beside you who should’ve been long retired, grumbled out “quit flirting and eat your damn food.” before abruptly standing up and leaving the dinner table. it was safe to say curly avoided you a few days out of sheer embarrassment. not very leader like of the captain, you thought that night with a small smile.

“—no meteor’s in sight. 312 days left in counting.” you can hear curly’s voice from the other side of the cockpit door. judging by his words, he most likely was journaling the day’s activities. you hear curly huff, the quiet sound of his chair squeaking under his weight. you raise your knuckles and knock against the metal door. immediately, the doors open automatically.

“am i interrupting?” a small smile plays at your lips. curly turns in his seat, his face softening at the sight of you. his head shakes, the curls framing his face bouncing as he did so. “of course not. come on in.” he gestures with a smile of his own. you walk in and take a seat at the open spot next to curly, the doors closing themselves behind you. if you were anyone else besides jimmy, he wouldn’t allow you to sit close at the cockpit for safety reasons.

“what brings you in?” it was only then you realize how tiresome curly’s voice sounded. a part of you wishes he got more rest, but you suppose thats one of the many sacrifices he makes as captain. you shrug. “what? can’t come say hi to my favorite captain?” your smile was big and wide, akin to a child successfully stealing candy from the convenience store. curly laughs. “im the only captain here, though? unless… you count jimmy as captain too.”

your face converts at curly’s insinuation. he takes notice of your face scrunch and laughs once more. “why that face?” he says in between chuckles. and for a moment, you found yourself a lost for words. not because of his question but rather because curly was undeniably perfect. his laugh was perfect, his personality was perfect, his face was especially perfect. you quickly shrug that honey of a feeling away, attempting to ignore the heat spreading across your face.

“nothing.” you simply excuse. before you could allow curly’s curiosity to grow, you continue. “a-anyway! earlier today i was talking to daisuke, right?” it didn’t take a genius for curly to know a ramble was brewing. he didn’t mind, rather, he preferred it. curly whole heartedly believed he could hear you talk for hours on end—and that wasn’t an overstatement. the speed in which you talked, showcasing the excitement in which what you had to say along side your frantic hand gestures… it was enduring. he sits quietly, listening to every thing you spoke of with such intensity it almost felt like he was tucking the information into the safest parts of his mind. which he was.

“and did you know he has a gameboy!? you know what that is, right?” you continue with such fever that curly didn’t have enough time to answer your question. his lips were left parted but slowly curled upwards once more into a soft smile. his skin tints a red hue at the apple of his cheeks, his gaze focus on nothing only but you—arms crossed, planted into his seat until you grew tired from bubbling away. and suddenly, you pause with your lips sealed in silence. curly doesn’t realize the fact he grows uncomfortable. without your voice, the quiet begins to irritate him. perhaps you finally realized how curly eyed you with such raw want and endearment?

and before curly could allow you to get another word out, he murmurs—“I love you.” so earnest and faint you could’ve nearly missed it. you blink, your mind slowly taking the weight of his words into comprehension. and then, your eyes widen with realization and so does his.

“please, step out.” curly breathes out. it was so fast you swear you could’ve gotten whiplash from it. at first, you thought he was just embarrassed, but the look on his face loudly states otherwise.

your expression was fast to morph into one of confusion. “w-wait, hold on, curly—” his name passes your lips so smoothly, so used too addressing him by his actual name instead of his title. that mere fact always enlighten a fire in curly’s chest so bright and big— but he knew he had to extinguish it.

he then stands up from the cockpit chair, his tall figure looming over you. “it’s captain to you.” he states, voice plain and bland. he was the captain for crying out loud. relationships were strictly prohibited on the tulpar for multitude of reasons—this being one. he had a job to get done yet he was wasting his time on… you.

you examine his fallen expression, noting the furrow of his thick eyebrows and frown displaying on his lips. your heart clenches to the point it nearly hurts. how could a few simple words break you so fast? you found yourself swallowing down the urge to cry.

“where is this coming from? y-you’re the one who said it.” tone full of hurt was the first thing curly picked up on. you didn’t mean to protest—but something within you wanted to resolve this as quickly as possible because a part of you knew your relationship wouldn’t go back to what it was.

curly lets out a heavy sigh, his hand running through his messy, blonde hair you grew to love. “look, it just came out. it was an accident. i-…” he stops mid sentence, his eyes finding yours. curly sees the heartbreak in your eye and doesn’t miss the glossy build up ready to spill.

“—i didn’t mean it…” he finishes but it comes out unsure—nearly seeming like a question directed towards himself. the silence after is defining, alike a thick blanket being placed over the both of you. tension so tight, it might as well suffocate the both of you. it was only then he realizes he won’t ever have the pleasure of hearing your joyful rambles after this. not after saying what he said. then, he feels regret, incredibly so and his mind flashes to him wrapping his arms around you—hand finding purchase on the back of your head and muttering out countless apologies before pulling you into a soft kiss that may speak more than his pitiful sorry’s.

but he only imagines. instead, he watches you finally blink away the tear that once threaten to spill. it glides down the soft of your cheek then falls once dipping past the edge of your jaw. you quickly wipe the wet off your face and stand up. curly’s hands twitch, full on ready to grab you by your uniform and bring you into his chest.

“have a good rest of your evening, captain.” it stings. it shouldn’t have but it does. the door slides open to allow you through and the only thing accompanying curly’s ears is the sound of your fading footsteps.

as you round the corner, you spot jimmy who stands crossed arm near the cockpit door. you pause for a moment before scoffing. a smirk lengthens across his wrinkled face when you walk past him.

“a captain’s gunna do what his gotta do.” jimmy mumbles under his breath.

POSTED- 11/29/24. do not translate/steal my work |

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hiiii, loved the NSFW alphabet for The Demon, perchance may I request headcanons on him with a first time submissive that uses the safeword? Hope you’re having a great day and if not I hope it gets better :)

The art of consent and words

The demon x girlfriend!reader

warning : smut (not fully explicit), no use of y/n, kissing, dom/sub, safeword use, mention of crying, aftercare, blindfold, mention of biting, gun play

Summary : In his career not only as a policeman and thus solver of the crime, but also in his career as far as his personal relationships are concerned, he had already had several partners but none was as gentle and beautiful as his current one…and above all so attractive when she told him that she would like to try out what it would be like if she were completely his.

info : Omg I'm so happy about the request for the demon, thank you for that and I hope you enjoy reading ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The relationships he had weren't always lasting, whether it was because of his job as a policeman who was constantly on missions or whether it was because he was into a little something unusual when it came to the bedroom, he didn't quite know. The job and his preferences were actually something quite normal, at least for him, and the acquaintances he had didn't seem to mind either, but the days when he woke up alone in his flat, the bed next to him empty, or the voice of a woman who disappeared again after breakfast and he was alone did bother him a little. Being alone was fine, but having someone else with him would have been nicer…and a wish that soon came true when he came across someone on the side of the road with a flat tyre during a normal patrol, and just a few months later, the said car owner with the new tyre found himself in his flat and so the relationship began…...

°The initial make out sessions started rather slowly, he had quickly realised that his love did not take over uninhibitedly, a hint of overprotection and insecurity seemed to run through her every time she sat on his lap, her thighs against his and exposed to his gaze. There was a look in his blue eyes that sent a shiver down her spine, ,,If you're not the most beautiful thing in the world," he murmured to her, before he drew her into a kiss.

°A kiss in which she felt his hands on her hips, the grip firm but not uncomfortable, her heart beating fast as she thought that no matter what happened he would never overstep the bounds of the word. A word they had discussed together over a glass of wine on the couch with the TV on in the background. She knew it and he knew that especially for first time submissives there were rules and boundaries, but never had he made her feel like she wasn't enough, ,,Honey…is that really okay? I mean, what if I did something wrong?" she had asked, nervously playing with the corner of her jumper.

°But it was his hand that had touched her back then on her neck he came closer to her and his look wasn't intimidating, on the contrary it was full of candour, ,,There's a first time for everything and if you say the safeword I'll stop immediately, besides you couldn't do anything wrong just relax and I'll take care," he returned before his lips came down on hers just like now when he suddenly took her gently but firmly from him and she felt the mattress beneath her.

°The cool softness of the cover made her squirm as the pillows enveloped her, she let her gaze wander over him, his upper body exposed, his lower body clad in jogging bottoms and she didn't even need her imagination to know what it looked like underneath, ,,Do you like to look and gawp, yes? Here let me help you darling" she suddenly heard his voice rougher than before and saw him kissing his way along her hand but his grip on her other wrist slowly tightened, she closed her eyes trying to get involved with him and suddenly gasped as she felt his cool hand run over her neck.

°It was unlike anything she'd known before but the goosebumps, the excitement and her rapidly beating heart told her how much she liked it and her sigh from him sank into a kiss as she felt the blindfold on her face firm enough to take away all light, defenceless and just being there for him. She snapped to attention as she heard a rasp and flinched as he chained one of her wrists to the bed, ,,Wouldn't want a fine specimen like you to go off," he whispered and she felt the sweet brief pain of a bite he drew from her ear to her neck.

°The feeling of being trapped increased with every passing moment, the longer she lay there not knowing what he was doing, his voice as appealing as it was frightening, making her heart pound harder and harder. His hands, rough and strong, touched her head and her groaned as he spread her legs and just let her lie there for a moment, almost making her lose her mind, she endured it, enjoyed it and felt herself wanting more. Until the moment she felt the cold barrel of the gun run over her body.

°She had agreed, had agreed that he could play the nefarious cop who would just take her and she had no choice, knew she was curious about the gun but now with the knowledge that in theory it could all be over with one shot she was scared, frightened and when her trembling voice released the safeword as he released the safety catch she felt tears in her eyes, ,,It's all right okay? You're free now, don't worry I'll get you out just a moment" she immediately heard his voice clearer brighter full of worry and not excitement. She felt the blindfold come off around her head, mingling with the click of the handcuff as he placed the gun on the bedside table.

°She saw him take his hands lightly, ,,Do you see everything all right? You were SO good, I'm proud of you, do you need anything?" he continued, giving her a moment to pull the blanket over herself, take a breath and wipe away the tears, at which point he handed her a handkerchief, ,,Thank you…that was-I mean for a moment I really thought that-” she didn't finish the sentence and looked at the gun before smiling slightly as she saw him demonstrate that it wasn't loaded. Her boy friend put the gun back and carefully placed his hand on hers, not firmly but gently as if he wanted not to startle her.

°She felt her body slowly calming down again and she enjoyed his warmth and touch, taking his hand and giving him a slight smile, which he happily returned, ,,I'm so proud of you, I love you," he said, leaning his forehead against hers for a moment as they lay there together on the bed, hearts recovering from the experience, and he offered them both a glass of water and a few snacks. And she felt herself wanting to talk again that evening, felt how even though it was her first time with something like that, she didn't find it so off-putting or scary, the shock at the beginning had left her with a slight tingle, ,,I think I'd definitely keep trying it," she murmured, putting her hand on his as they sat together on the couch at the end of the day, watching something on the TV and drinking a glass of wine, knowing that this would ask for so much more than just that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@angelsanarchy , @starry-eyed-wild-child , @nsfwsimp-account , @tae-baefor3v3r , @rmwfe

[fantastic-nonsense]

Wasn’t it Alfred who’d made Damian Robin in Battle for the Cowl? Dick must have agreed after the fact, but Alfred was the one who set it in motion.

Nominally yes, in the sense that Alfred is the person who first put the cape in Damian's hands:

"You can't keep me here." "I'll do no such thing. But understand that you've been injured. Severely so." ......."What the hell are you pulling here, Al?" "It's time to earn your keep. If you're up for it." "So long as I'm not wasting any more time in here, whatever." -Battle for the Cowl #3

However, the reality is "not really." Three things to note about this:

One: no one in the story who actually knows what Damian's gotten up to while Dick was tracking down Tim and fighting Jason actually treats Damian as Robin. For the purposes of the narrative and everyone in it, Tim is still Robin, as Squire points out:

"I'm sure Nightwing could use a hand finding Robin. This way, then." -Battle for the Cowl #3

We don't really see anyone else's reaction to Damian wearing the cape in BftC. Even when Damian saves Tim while wearing the symbol, Tim has no actual reaction besides a single exclamation of Damian's name, and he seems more bewildered that Damian is there at all than he is about Damian wearing the Robin tunic. But the people we do see? Don't treat him as Robin. They treat him as an ally who happens to be wearing the Robin tunic for convenience.

Two: within the bounds of BftC, Damian is explicitly framed as being "Dick's responsibility" with Bruce gone. After Jason shoots Damian, Dick has the same conversation with Alfred that Bruce often did whenever one of his Robins was hurt, framed in a way that made it obvious where things were heading:

"Damian...this child...I could have gotten him killed tonight. I have a responsibility to him now. I let him down, Alfred." "Bruce also said the same of you...and Master Timothy, many times over the years." "And of Jason Todd." "Him as well." -Battle for the Cowl #2

Dick has already implicitly accepted Damian as his Robin at this point. And though Dick and Tim have not explicitly discussed it (as we see via their argument in Red Robin #1), it was also fairly clear that Tim would not be Dick's Robin based on how Dick thought of Tim by that point (as his brother, as his equal, as someone who should not be taking orders from him full-time). Tim had already spent time as the Robin to Dick's Batman back in Prodigal, and both boys had come a long way since then. Once Dick decided to take up the cowl at the end of BftC #2, it was inevitable that Damian would be his Robin rather than Tim (for a whole host of reasons I won't get into here). Alfred just hastened that inevitability.

Three: simply wearing the cape does not make you Robin. You are Robin if and only if two things happen: you have been explicitly accepted by Batman as his partner and Dick Grayson has given his blessing. You are a potential Robin. You are an ally wearing a Robin costume. But you are not Robin until those things happen.

Tim was not Robin in A Lonely Place of Dying even though he stole the costume with Alfred's help to save Bruce and Dick. Tim did not become Robin until after both Bruce and Dick had accepted him as such and he went through a training period (he was known as "Little Bat" until then, btw). The same is true of Damian, who wore the Robin tunic at least three times prior to actually becoming Robin (Bruce briefly took him out while wearing it in Batman and Son and he famously wore it during the events of Resurrection of Ra's al Ghul); he was no more Robin then than he was in BtfC.

The costume isn't what makes you Robin. Batman saying you're Robin and Dick giving the blessing of his parents' legacy to you makes you Robin (which. I will freely admit that's a loaded, complicated topic given the history of how the Robin mantle has been passed down over the years. but it generally holds true). Damian properly becoming Robin after BftC was clearly Dick's choice; Alfred can't "make" anyone Robin if Batman doesn't agree.

The core conceptual problem with Battle for the Cowl (well. there's about 5000 problems with BtfC. but you know what I mean) is that it tries to deal with about fifty different things at once, most of which all ordinarily would have gotten their own dedicated space across multiple books or tie-in comics to deal with. Instead, all of these things are smushed into a single massive threeshot event comic with awful characterization and a near-incomprehensible chain of events. In a perfect world, we would have gotten the same kind of build-up and transition between Tim and Damian that we did in the 90s when Tim became Robin after Jason's death. Unfortunately that's not what we got, so we're left to fill in the gaps ourselves.

But textually, Alfred did not make Damian Robin. Alfred handed an ally to the cause a Robin tunic during a crisis specifically for the purpose of rescuing Robin. After that crisis was over, Batman chose to make that same ally his Robin for reasons entirely unrelated to his wearing the symbol during that specific crisis. Dick chose Damian to be his Robin, and that choice should not be looked over just because removing it conveniently lifts some of the hurt feelings and messiness of that transition off of Dick's shoulders.

Dick handled his own legacy, as he should have. And while he did not handle it with as much communication and grace as he should have or probably would have liked to, it was his mantle and legacy to handle at the end of the day. For once, he had complete agency over choosing a successor to his heroing legacy (and his parents' legacy), not Bruce or Alfred or anyone who self-appointed themselves as a successor, and we should acknowledge and respect that.

He didn't pick Damian because Alfred unilaterally gave him a battlefield promotion; he picked Damian because he thought Tim was grown and independent enough to thrive without taking his orders every day and believed Damian needed his direct oversight and the growth opportunity being Robin would provide more than Tim did. Allow Dick the dignity of his choices instead of acting like he had no input or say in the matter of who his Robin was going to be.

[fizzyxcustard]

I've Loved You Forever.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: North & South (modern AU)

Pairings: Modern John Thornton x Fem!Reader/Fem!Reader x OC

Warnings: Language, angst, pining.

Summary: It is the Christmas party for John Thornton and his workers from Marlborough Mills. You have all been allowed to take partners, and that means your boyfriend of eighteen months is there. When he is asked if he loves you and can't answer, John Thornton's rage comes out full throttle, especially as he's been in love with you for quite some time.

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. I’m gradually removing people from my tag lists who do not interact.

I tend to use Lucas North pictures as my modern Thornton images. This idea actually came to me randomly a few days ago when I was reading on the train.

Thank you to @knittastically and @lathalea for helping me who to choose the character for this idea. I may open this scenario up to other RA characters if people are interested and would like to request.

It was your work Christmas party, and your manager John Thornton had been kind enough to let everyone bring their partners along. However, you noticed that he still remained at the head of the table alone. There was no one at his side like the majority of everyone else around the table. Due to the size of your whole party, it was spilling over on to a second table. A couple of the machinery operators from Marlborough Mills, where you all worked, were sat with their wives, off to the side of the main table. Your boyfriend of eighteen months, Stuart, was beside you. As usual, he seemed to naturally turn all heads towards him. He was joking about someone he worked with, an unfortunate soul whom he disliked, and enjoyed tormenting.

John looked at Stuart and silently scoffed. The man was a prick! Self-absorbed, entitled, opinionated, sarcastic. How the hell had you even got with a man like this? You were everything that Stuart wasn’t. 

The conversation, you noticed, seemed to steer to a more personal topic. Kelly, one of the wives of a colleague, grinned at Stuart across the table. “So do you love her? Are you planning to put a ring on her finger?” How had the conversation turned to this? Where had your thoughts been up until this moment?

Stuart began to blanch and tried to divert the topic. Never once though did he look at you. 

“Become a bit speechless there, Stu?” John hissed, resting his arms on the table. 

Kelly recoiled back, knowing that she had inadvertently caused a potential argument for later.

“Aren’t you going to answer Kelly’s question?” John growled again. “Or is that an answer you’ve got to think long and hard about?” 

“John,” you said softly, looking up sheepishly at your boss. “It’s okay.” 

Stuart got up from his seat quickly. “Anybody for another drink?” 

John’s livid stare followed Stuart to the bar, and everyone else around the table had noticed. Why had John become so defensive? 

In your embarrassment and hurt, you got up, excusing yourself from the table and slipped around the full tables and out into the chill of the evening air. A heat had rose in your head and prickles of pain rested behind your eyes, threatening tears. But you pushed them back, putting your self-control in place. Stuart had embarrassed you enough in public over the last eighteen months you’d been together, but never on such a scale as this. 

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice came. 

You looked up to see John Thornton a few feet away from you. “It’s fine, John.” 

“It’s not fine,” John exclaimed. “How long have you two been together?” 

“Eighteen months.” 

“And in that time he hasn’t figured out if he loves you? Fucking hell…” John seethed. “You’re going to just let him get away with doing that in front of you. You deserve so much better than that.” 

You sighed, chewing on your lip. “Plenty of people tell you you deserve something but you can’t see that inside yourself. And a lot of people will tell you that you deserve something but be completely unable to give that to you themselves. They’re fobbing it off for someone else to pick up.” 

John felt that all-consuming love for you rise. How had he kept it inside for all this time? You had been his right hand for the last two years, being the assistant manager, secretary and everything in between that John couldn’t always manage to take care of. When you had announced the fact you had a boyfriend, the pain cut John deep. It felt as though it would be a pain he would carry forever. And over that time you had been with Stuart, the pain had never dulled, he had only learned to live with it. 

“I’m not fobbing you off,” John said softly. “I’m telling you that you need a man who will love you, put you first, adore you. A man who will make you breakfast in the morning, constantly tell you how beautiful you are, give you gifts just because he wants to. Someone who can make you smile.” 

The intensity of John’s words and his gaze made your heart beat quicker. Butterflies began flapping viciously in your stomach. It was that same feeling you had had every day since meeting him. John Thornton was a gentleman; he was everything that Stuart wasn’t. He was the man you wanted to be doing all those things he’d only just moments ago spoken of. But surely he would never be prepared to do that for you. 

“I know you only mean well, John,” you said, turning to walk back into the pub. 

John caught your hand. His gaze was burning into yours, and you couldn’t help but sigh. You whispered his name, tightening your grip on his hand. You were inches apart, and despite the cold around you, you felt hot. Anticipation raced up your spine, and you felt your cheeks burn. 

“He can’t tell you he loves you,” John began. “But I can.” 

You took a painful inhale, waiting for him to speak again. 

John smiled. “I love you. It feels like I’ve loved you forever, and I won’t stop.” 

***

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[onboardsorasora]

Here's some feel good championship celebrations. Trying to get back into the swing of writing, I hope this is good lmao. Peripheral editing, so sorry for any mistakes.

Part 1 | Part 20

Part 21

Daniel grinned as he held his phone aloft, filming the singing crew below. From his vantage point halfway up the stairs he could see all the mechanics as they sang drunkenly along with Christian to Wonderwall. Who knew Genty knew how to play the guitar?!

Daniel was amazed, he’d never been with a team when they won a big championship before and being in the depth of the garage when Max crossed the finish line in Japan had been quite literally a surreal out of body experience.

He and Blake watched as Max was enveloped by his team, patting him on his helmet and back, lifting him high into the air. The drinking had started immediately, and now hours later, Daniel knew he was the only sober person in the building (stupid meds). But it was fine, he was more than happy to (unofficially) record the memories for the team. He swung his camera to the left to capture the moment when Max walked back into the room– the cheers that erupted were deafening. It felt as if he was at an Eagles game and they just scored the game winning goal, only condensed in this tiny room.

Max went pliantly into Christian’s hug, both men grinning squinty, crinkly, happy grins. Daniel knew that there wasn’t one braincell between them right now.

Max looked up and his face brightened when he recognised Daniel, he waved him down and everyone turned around to see who had Max’s attention. They all cheered again when they too saw the Aussie. 

Aussie Aussie Aussie!!!

Oi Oi Oi!!

Daniel didn’t see who started the chant, but he did see Micheal gleefully screaming along. Blake motioned for him to go downstairs and he did, yelling out his own ‘kikiki ra!’ that Max returned.

“Hi” Daniel grinned once stood beside Max, a waitress came then with a new round of drinks and Max quickly grabbed the lone bottle of sparkling water and pressed it gently in Daniel’s left hand. 

There was a toast to the team, and Daniel took his time uncapping his bottle. When the screams went up again he was ready with his own drink, drinking to the 6 time world champs.

“One down, one to go eh?!” Someone yelled and that started a chant of ‘one more time’ which had Max positively beaming.

Daniel kissed his boyfriend’s cheek but Max wasn’t having it– pulling him in close for a full blown wet kiss. If Daniel thought the cacophony before was loud, the noise now was thunderous.

Later, when Daniel was steadying Max as they walked to their room, he couldn’t help but stare fondly at his wasted boyfriend. He had stuck to gin and tonics the whole night, but Christian had left an open tab on the company card– and Max had conspiratorially told him that there was a championship budget with a lot of zeros. 

No one else faired any better, Daniel had dropped off Blake and Micheal two floors down– it had been a wild ride trying to coax Max back into the elevator. He didn’t want to accept that they hadn’t reached their room yet. But they made it and Daniel felt he deserved a prize for shepherding an entire drunk team. Max fell face first into the bed– literally already asleep, and Daniel followed behind him after taking off their shoes.

Daniel woke up to the smell of breakfast and his stomach growled louder than any noise the team made last night. He distantly heard Max’s chuckle and felt lips pressed to his forehead. Max was fresh from the shower damp, his cheeks still rosy from the heat of the water. Daniel didn’t comment on the fact that he was wearing his sunglasses.

“Morning Love, Christian sent up breakfast and a card. His text said that you ‘did the lord’s work’ and he appreciates it.” Max yawned around some of his words, and his accent ate the others. 

Daniel smiled indulgently, last night was fun and he was excited to do it again in Qatar– he should be off his meds by then so someone else will have to babysit.

[yourfellowhuman07]

Alliances of the Heart

A She-Ra: Princess of Power 2018 fanfiction

For centuries, the All Princess Ball has been a time for the nobility of Etheria to let loose. Flaunting their power, prestige, and fashion for all to see. The ball had always been politically neutral, but, as tension from the war rises, not everyone is so keen to forget what happens beyond the walls of Castle Chill.

Lord Hordak, along with Princess Scorpia and Force Captian Catra, have come to the party to make alliances and find out everything there is to know about their enemies. Careful to not arouse the suspicion of the Princess Alliance.

Princess Entrapta, being the scientist she is, decides to come to the party to decode the secrets of body language, despite getting the same data from every other party she has ever attended.

When the two rulers cross paths, their plans flip on their heads as the two grow closer. Now it is up to Catra and Scorpia to push the two together as Adora and Glimmer stick their noses where they do not belong.

________________

Sorry it's been a hot minute, but chapter eight is here!

________________

Chapter 8: Contemplation

Bow kept a firm grip on Glimmer’s forearm as he dragged her away from the prying eyes of the ballroom into an empty hall. Once the door closed, Bow released Glimmer and turned on his heels to face her.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, a little harsher than he needed to.

“Nothing, Bow,” Glimmer assured, rubbing her thumb across her forearm.

“Glimmer,” Bow adjusted to a softer tone. “I’ve known you for years, so I can tell when something is bothering you.” He took her hands in his own. “What is it?”

Glimmer’s stomach churned as Bow waited for a response. How was she going to explain this to him? That she’s mad he went with someone else to the Princess Prom. In trying to rationalize her thoughts, she slowly realized how stupid she was being. What gives her the right to say who he hangs out with? If he doesn’t want to spend time with her, then he shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry for being rude about you hanging out with other people besides me. You don’t have to spend time with me if you don’t want to.” “Glimmer, that’s not the point-” “I shouldn’t feel entitled to your company. I just assumed since we’ve been talking about it for so long we would go together, but I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“Glimmer!” Bow grabbed Glimmer by the shoulders, halting her spiral. “Just because I was Perfuma’s plus one doesn’t mean I didn’t want to hang out with you. I wanted all of us to hang out together.”

Glimmer had no response. She only stared at him.

“But, I should have explained that to you. I didn’t realize it meant so much to you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Glimmer wrapped her arms around Bow’s midsection, squeezing him tight. Bow quickly returned the hug. The two stood there, probably longer than they needed to.

“Are you ready to go back to the party?” Bow asked, his voice a little over a whisper.

“Yeah, I guess so,” the two let go of one other. “We probably should go find Adora before she starts stalking Catra again.”

“Huh?” Bow looked at Glimmer confused, causing her to laugh.

“I have a lot to catch you up on.” The two made their way back to the party, their hands loosely holding each other.

_____________________________________

Entrapta blinked and rubbed her eyes through her tired haze. Reluctant to leave her soft bed. As she took a deep breath, she smelled something rich and smokey scent that made her head swirl.

This fully woke her up. She looked down to see Lord Hordak’s cape still wrapped around her body. She also noticed her gloves and boots were still on. She knew she was tired last night, but that tired.

With this revelation, memories from last night flooded her tired mind. How the warlord brought her away from the boring party, gave her his cape, talked with her for hours, and carried her through the icy cold. She also remembered how quickly she left him due to an amalgamation of flustered and tired. Even if he did walk her to her room, she doubted she could hold a conversation.

She begrudgingly rolled to the side of her bed, discarding her boots and gloves. She went to take off the cape, but she stopped herself. She didn’t want to take it off.

This prompted Entrapta to think. Really think. For the past three days, she has been fluttering around the strange feelings brewing in her mind. All of those thoughts had one common denominator: Lord Hordak.

It made sense he would occupy her mind, given the time she had spent with him. However, things were different. Her interactions with the warlord had a different tone compared to other interactions she had with people. It wasn’t like her newfound friendship with Catra and Scorpia or the relationship she had with her most trusted bots. This specific relationship with the warlord had more substance. She couldn’t quite comprehend it.

She might need more data. Yes, that’s what she needs! More data. Then she could draw a proper conclusion.

Now she just needs to occupy herself until the evening. She thought of what she could do as she fiddled with the seams of Hordak’s cape. Then it hit her.

She should return the cape. 

It would be stupid to give it to him at the party. He would have to carry it around for the rest of the evening. She wouldn’t want him to do that. It’s only logical to return it now. No other reason, right?

_________________

Entrapta walked on her hair down the icy halls of Castel Chill, slowly picking up speed with each step. The warlord’s cape was folded neatly in her lap, the perfect vessel for Entrapta’s fidgeting.

Then, the princess found his room, tucked into the back corner of the long corridor. The doors were large and white, bordered by an icy blue trim. Entrapta sat herself on the ground and raised her hand to the double doors. After a moment's hesitation, she gave a quick knock on the door, praying Hordak would answer.

Suddenly, the door flung open to Lord Hordak’s annoyed face. When he registered who stood in front of him, the hardness of his features melted away.

“Princess Entrapta, what do I owe the pleasure?” the warlord asked, slightly crouching down due to the doorframe lacking in height for a being of his size. Entrapta took a moment to examine the man in front of her. He wore a white button-up loosely tucked into black pants. His hair was down and he lacked his striking black eyeliner. Then, something shiny caught her eye. The first couple of buttons of Hordak’s shirt were undone, exposing metal plates flush with his skin. Entrapta raised herself on her hair to get a better look, but Hordak’s hands shot up to his collar, swiftly putting the buttons in the proper place. Entrapta scrunched her face in confusion until Hordak cleared his throat, calling her attention back to reality.

“Oh! Here,” She held up the black cape, “you should have this back.”

“Thank you, Princess Entrapta.” Hordak took the cape, his hand slightly brushing her own. “Perhaps tonight, if you wish to return to the garden, we could pick up your coat beforehand,” Hordak suggested, preventing a laugh from brushing his voice.

“Oh, my coat is missing.”

“Huh?”

“My coat is missing,” Entrapta repeated, sitting back on her hair chair.

“No, I heard you. I am just confused.”

“I gave it to the coat checks and they lost it.”

“I am sorry that occurred.”

“It’s fine,” she shrugged. “The castle is heated through magic anyway, so I’m fine.”

Except when we went to the garden, Hordak thought as guilt set into his skin.

“Well, I shall see you at the party tonight,” Hordak noted, not wanting to take up all of Entrapta’s time.

“You too.” She affirmed, “Maybe we can talk about those larger-scale robots you wanted to add to your forces.”

“Of course.” He assured, pushing down the urge to talk about the bots at that very moment. “See you this evening, Princess.”

“See you there.” 

___________

Hordak closed his door as his ears turned, listening to the sound of Entrapta’s footsteps gradually fading away. He looked down at the cape in his hands, lightly rubbing his thumb over the smooth cloth. He unfolded the cloth to see it had been wrinkled. Hordak sighed as he draped the garment over a door. He unzipped a black suitcase and pulled out a hand-held steamer. As he went to attend to the wrinkled cloth he began to think.

Hordak was confused, and he didn’t like it. Why had he been so keen on spending time with Princess Entrapta? He had spent the past three days thinking about her and what they were going to talk about that evening. Traditionally, he couldn’t stand to make small talk with anyone, let alone speak with someone for hours on end.

Perhaps it was the fact she was a scientist like him. Yes, of course. It was their superior intellect that connected them. Never before had Hordak met someone on this planet who could truly understand what he was getting at. Someone who appreciated his ideas beyond how they could benefit the war. Someone who listened because they wanted to, not because they had to.

Another thing that weighed heavy on his mind was the fact that Entrapta didn’t have a coat. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but friends worry about each other, right? Still, he feels like he should do something. No, he will do something.

[heart-of-the-party]

i wrote some angsty azune/estinien stuff! it’s mostly word vomit but yeah, i was wondering how to touch upon this when i played EnW and had an idea today.

for some context:

azune’s parents are- viera father, au ra mother (Frir and Asa Viraum)

they were renowned alchemists from thavnair and spent most of their time in The Great Work, they were both killed in an explosion at a research facility (very cliche, yeah). they had a child out of societal expectations and as such did not deeply care for azune.she grew up quite independent and alone and does not have a strong attachment to her parents.

"Viraum? Are you perchance related to Frir and Asa Viraum?", Nidhana asked, her gleaming eyes indicating that she already knew the answer.

"Did the ears give it away?", Azune asked, a polite and practiced smile on her face. Beside her, the 3 scions stiffened slightly. Urianger made a move as if to speak but Nidhana began to gush almost instantly.

"I knew it! You look just like your father. I was but a young girl when your parents used to work here, I have met them a couple of times many years ago and your mother's encouraging words really inspired my journey into alchemy. Almost everyone here remember your parents fondly and keenly feel their loss, I cannot imagine-"

"Ooh, good for them, for I feel nothing for the kind of people who decided their work is more important than the child back home.", saying so, Azune whipped around and strode out of the room. Estinien immediately followed her out. Nidhana blinked, clearly surprised and at a loss for words.

Urianger and Thancred exchanged looks, for now it's best they leave Azune to Estinien. Not a lot of people knew about Azune's relationship with her long-gone parents and evidently Thavnair has been a constant reminder for her. Nidhana's well-meaning but callous words were the last straw.

"Sorry about that, perhaps we should refrain from mentioning the Viraums at all. Azune shares little else with them other than the same last name, so let's not probe further than that, yeah?" Thancred's voice was light but his words had a tone of finality to them. Nidhana only nodded, apparently unabashed.

"I'll make sure no one says anything about them to the Warrior of Light. Everyone has their circumstances. It was my mistake to have made assumptions about their relationship." She suddenly stood up and clapped her hands loudly.

"Now then, let's get to work!"

Thancred and Urianger smiled and nodded, eager to get started and leave the awkward situation behind.

---

Azune walked a few paces ahead of Estinien. She knew he was behind her but she couldn't bring herself to stop and face him. She was afraid that she might end up lashing out at him. Right now all she felt was waves of anger in different tones- frustration, bitterness, sadness.

When they arrived at the cliffs of the Perfumed Rise, away from the bustle of The Great Work, Azune stopped. She heard Estinien stop too, he was close to her but far enough to give her space.

"I am sorry." she blurted out. In truth she was, she was the Warrior of Light, she shouldn't have been so overwhelmed by Nidhana's words. And she knew they were going to a place where her parents worked. Being viera as well as carrying the name of some of the most well-known alchemists in The Work was bound to lead to someone talking to her about them. She knew this and yet-

"Dont." he said, his voice soft but firm.

Tears welled up in Azune's eyes. Estinien is always so kind.

Realising that there's no way to stop her overflowing emotions, she broke down finally.

"I hate this! I hate what I am feeling right now. I thought I was over them but apparently not. I am so weak." she said, her voice quavering, making her even more frustrated. She barely shed any tears for her parents during their funeral, why was she being so affected now?

Estinien said nothing but moved close to her and tugged her hand, inviting her closer if she wanted it. She laid her head against his shoulder, tears soaking his shirt. Estinien held her close as she continued her rant.

"Why were they so nice and kind to everyone else but me? Everyone we meet remembers them fondly and I? I don't even have any worthwhile memories of them. I was alone the whole time. My mother said encouraging words to Nidhana, huh? Why couldn't she do the same to me when my first few spells failed? Oh right, because she wasn't home."

Azune's voice grew stronger and angrier as she went on. Estinien tightened his hold. He was angry too, on behalf of his lover. Coming from a caring and loving family, he was baffled that someone could leave their child alone like that. Azune deserved better. No amount of alchemical innovations her parents worked on was worth the loneliness of her childhood.

"Why have me if they didn't want to be actual parents? I don't know- I don't think- I.." she voice broke again and she cried harder, her arms clinging desperately around Estinien. His anger had already turned into concern as he ran his hand through her hair, hoping to soothe her heart in any way he could. He was never good with words, preferring to show his feelings through actions. And right now, all he could do was hold her till she calmed down. Just as he did before, after the events at The Vault.

Azune eventually calmed down enough and Estinien released her, his arms still hovering close to let her know he wasn't letting go if she needed more time. She stepped back a little and looked away sheepishly. "Thank you.." she said, her voice small and hoarse. "Sorry again. She was trying hard to avoid his eyes.

Estinien sighed. Both Azune and Alphinaud were annoyingly polite even to their closest friends. But it was also an endearing part of them and Estinien had begrudgingly learned to not argue back when they apologised or thanked him for the smallest of things.  

Before he could say anything, his linkpearl beeped. Thancred's voice came in, unhurried and casual. Apparently they had mostly wrapped up the discussions with the alchemists and suggested Estinien take Azune out for the evening before returning to The Great Work for dinner and finalizing the plans for the next day.

"Azune." he called. She finally looked at him, a small smile on her face. Estinien felt his heart squeeze at that. He smiled back, as he took her in his arms again. A thought nagged at him. Haltingly he tried to give it form.

"Perhaps- perhaps your parents had you for the sole reason that we'd meet and share our lives together. I am sorry your journey to get here was... hmm, shitty. Forgive me, I am not good with words and... mmf"

Azune's lips were on his, insistent and hungry. Her hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him down deeper into the kiss. Though surprised at first, Estinien kissed her back with the same intensity. When they parted, Azune nuzzled his nose.    

"You know what, you're right. I am glad I met you, Estinien. You and everyone else. My real family."

What seemed like a lifetime ago, Estinien was ready to give up his life for Ishgard. It was his duty as the Azure Dragoon. Now, looking at the viera in his arms, Estinien was glad to be alive if only to be Azune's lance.

Both of them were broken when they found each other and together they had learnt to pick themselves up and live on for a better tomorrow. And now as they walked the coast of Thanvair, hand-in-hand, Estinien vowed to always be what Azune needed him to be.  

---

Walking towards the wizened dragon who was left with no will to live, Estinien remembered that evening in Thavnair. The feel of Azune against him and his renewed resolve. That was his last thought and his last wish. For her to see this through. Even if he were gone, she had to make it. She needed him to be a guide right now. And that's what he'd be. Putting his faith and love into the right words was a monumental task in itself but he did his best.

"Go, my friend." He smiled at her one last time before being engulfed by the cold darkness.

[homo-rashi]

Roommates (Original Work) Ch 3.

The Favor (contains Omorashi)

Read it on my Ao3 here: Link

“That is so totally unfair!” August lays his head back into the plush cushion of the green common room sectional,

“You're right! It's totally not fair! You try being woken up three times a night by fourteen-year-old freshman who can't sleep and still wet the be-” Rowans eyes widen when August visibly tenses at his words. August tries not to look uncomfortable at the mention of anyone wetting the bed but clearly, that didn't work. “Sorry, What I mean is, It's fair to whoever would have been my roommate! Since I'm bunking alone, nobody else has to be bothered by my duties as an RA.”

“But you have your own room! You don't have to deal with a Max…” August brushes past the awkwardness, his need to complain about his last few night living with what he can only describe as a ‘caricature of an American bad boy’

“I have to deal with all thirty of my freshmen dealing with their own ‘Max’. Do you know how many physical fights I’ve had to break up already?” August shrugs, thinking about Rowan having to pull two Freshman off each other like two chihuahuas.

“If Max tried to actually fight me, I'd be a goner.” August thinks out loud. Max is taller than him by a good few inches. He definitely seems like he has more experience, just from the way he talks and acts and looks…

“Well yeah, he’s a whole year older than-” Rowan pauses picking at the bowl of half eaten popcorn in his lap, “Fuck, pretend I didn't just say that.” August immediately cannot pretend he did not just say that.

“Am I the only sophomore rooming with a junior? Why? Would that be a good enough reason to put in a roommate change request?” August immediately has his mind racing with possibility. The faint dream he had in his head of getting a roommate who was a gentle, queer, sciency guy who really liked plants and made their dorm room feel alive and wears little patterned socks with corduroy overalls, flutters in his stomach. The exact opposite of Max. His wardrobe is seemingly all black beside his school uniform. The room is decorated with monster cans and vape residue rather than carefully tended to greenery, and instead of waking up to sunlight, August has woken up to the RGB lights on Max's computer cycling randomly through what he calls ‘disco mode.’

“Max is a sophomore…He just was held back in seventh grade.” August mouth falls into a little oh shape, that makes sense for some reason. He doesn't seem like the type to actually care about school, Not that August really cares all that much, He finds it easy and studying relaxing. A good combo generally when it comes to academics.

“How do you know this? Does being an RA give you like…access to our files???” August asks, suddenly worried that Rowan knows about his water issue and the fact that he has been seeing a shrink since he was 10. Not that either of those things are less embarrassing then everything else he knows at this point, but he would like to keep some things private if possible.

“Oh god, no no no! I wish! I just went to the same middle school as him. He transferred into the class above me in the middle of his seventh year. Everyone thought he was so cool because we were poor public school kids and he was this bad boy private school guy. My friends all had a big crush on him until the next year when we ended up in the same class as him because he flunked or something…I don't really- Listen we have an understanding with each other, I don't tell anyone about that and he doesn't tell anyone that before last year I was a girl called Riley.” Rowan says the last part under his breath, even though They are the only two people in the common room at the moment.

“Is he really holding up his end of the bargain if he called you ‘manboobs’ to my face?” August frowns slightly, feeling like Rowan is getting the short end of the stick in this situation. Trusting someone like Max to keep a secret so big, that you're trans, is way different than a nice person like Rowan keeping the lid on the fact he did bad at multiplication in middle school…

“You probably won't get this but at the end of the day, in my eyes,at least he is calling me a man. I have been called way worse things by way worse guys” That doesn't make August feel any better,

“I-yeah, I don't get it because I'm not out to anyone really, except my Dad and that's only a recent thing…” August wants to help, but has no idea how. He isn't trans. He has never questioned his gender, He has never had a reason too. Of course he knows Trans people exist, but he has never known a trans person on a personal level before, and heard first hand what their struggles are.

“Wait? Really! That's great August! When did you tell him, how did it go???” August smiles slightly at Rowan’s sudden excitement. Seeing him smile after talking about Max for the past hours makes him realize how hyper focused on the whole roommate situation he has been, and that possibly Max isn't a great topic for Rowan.

- Beeeeeeep -

“Well,” August gets up at the sound of the washer finishing its last spin cycle, Rowan idly follows him into the laundry room, “My Mom and Dad just got divorced, or are getting divorced and when my dad found out that my mom…Cheated, He sat me down and was telling me all about how when I get married, and find a wife, or when I get my first girlfriend, going on and on about How I should not let what my mom did affect how I see my relationships with women…So” August pauses to start the loud dryer he just shoved his sheets into, this time having washed them first, thankfully.

“I just nonchalauntly corrected him when he brought up my future wife, by saying ‘or husband.” August smiles recalling the interaction, how his dad mirrored his words ‘or husband’ to which August replied, "definitely husband.”

“And that was it? He took it well?” Rowan asks, smiling wide

“I mean, We didn't talk about it at all after…but he didn't get mad so, yeah I'd say he took it well. What about you? Are your parents cool with…?” August asks, keeping his question vague seeing a group of guys walk past the laundry room door.

“Wanna go to my room? I don't think anyone is gonna actually steal your stuff, for the record.” August nods, admittedly, he has been curious about what Rowan's room actually looks like, being a single and all.

* * * Rowan’s room isn't that different from August's room except for two things. The first being everything is more open and spacious. The bed isn't lofted, instead being at a normal height and the tall wardrobe is replaced with a long dresser with a mirror hanging above it.

The second difference August immediately noticed in the inconspicuous door on the far left of the room that's slightly ajar revealing a private en-suite bathroom.

“You have your own bathroom? What about the one the teachers let you use?” August looks at Rowan, who is leaning down and pulling out two bottles of water from their red retro looking mini fridge.

“That was last year, when I wasn't an RA…why do you think I even applied to be an RA in the first place.” Rowan quirks an eyebrow up with a smirk. August takes the water bottle from him and takes a seat in Rowan’s desk chair adorned with a fluffy blanket.

“You asked me about my parents…” Rowan gets the topic back on track. August set his attention back to Rowan and not how incredibly jealous he is about the room situation. “I don't like anyone knowing that I'm the way that I am…but of course they had to know because they are my parents. It's just-” Rowan hesitates, August feels like what he is trying to say is difficult, so he lets him take his time.

“You don't have to tell me if it's hard to talk about…I know these things can be tough.” August offers him an out,

“That's the thing. My parents were so supportive! They were perfect! I-I don't want to sound ungrateful because I know how privileged I am but my mom specifically made me being trans my everything…Every holiday, some gift is white, pink and blue. Every time she tells me she loves me she has to specify that I'm ‘so brave for doing this.’ That's half the reason I begged to go to boarding school, I just-”

“Wanted to be a guy, not a trans guy?” August caught onto what Rowan is saying, relating to it in a way. “I've felt that. Back home, I had some guy friends, We weren't like close, they didnt know Im gay obviously, but I always felt like they were the guys, so close with each other and I would always just be ‘the gay guy�� even if I didn't tell them, It was obvious i'm different and was treated as such even in small ways…” August doesnt know why he feels comfortable telling all of this to Rowan, but He does, so he is going with it. Anxiety be damned, opening up like this feels better than any of his therapists have ever made him feel.

“You get it. Fuck. You know, I don't feel like that with you. I don't feel like you're other-ing me.” August smiles at that. He honestly was worried he had been acting a bit weird, not fully because of the trans thing, but a little bit, mostly because of his own embarrassment. “I guess I'm glad your parents got divorced.” Rowan jokes, earning a punch in the arm from August. “It's lonely being here…or I guess, it's been lonely, maybe now it won't be.”

August mirrors the sentiment. The first few hours in his dorm alone with Max after the first day was jarring. The things he would say to whoever he was playing his online games with certainly didn't make August feel welcome And he could only hear half the conversation, He could only imagine what else was being said about ‘fags and trannys’ on the other end. Regret seeped deep into his bones regarding the decision to up and leave his Dad and come here. Not to mention waking up the next morning with wet sheets, having to deal with his mess alone with nobody to tell him they would handle it and to go take a bath, like his mom used to, Feeling for the first time since he found out what she did, the need to just have her by his side, was rough.

Today though, he had Rowan who happened to stumble upon him in the laundry room, on the brink of tears because he forgot his student card that he had just loaded with money, the last of his pocket money his dad sent him for the month, in his room. Not the end of the world, but it was just building and building. Rowan offered to pay for it and for him to go shower while everyone was still asleep, without asking any questions or giving any signs of judgment. They sat and watched a movie on mute as the sun came up waiting for the laundry to finish, picking on a bowl of popcorn somebody left in the lounge last night.

“I gotta get back before Max wakes up, I don't want to have to explain why I was doing laundry in the middle of the night.” August jumps off the bed, not really wanting to leave the safe feeling of this room.

“Do you…? have an explanation, I mean? I-I don't want to pry like it's totally none of my business but if you're sick I can help you see the nurse.”

“It's not usually this bad!…I'm just stressed. It's an anxiety thing.” August says honestly. Because it usually isn't every single night, just once or twice a week. Usually. Sometimes…if he is lucky.

“Good ole’ mental health, Anxiety, gotta love her.” Rowan says, lightening the moon. August smiles and leaves, gathering his sheets and making sure the coast is clear before darting up the stairs as quickly as possible. He can now skip two stairs if he concertrains on not falling, greatly improving his travel time.

His dorm is just as quiet and peaceful as when he left it. The one redeeming quality of Max is that he is a very sound sleeper. August manages to make his bed without Max even stirring. He jumps back into bed with no intention of falling back asleep. The quiet of the room is interrupted not even a few minutes later by a harsh vibration against the wooden desk across the room.

August watches threw half open lids Max jumping from his bed and grabbing his phone, still pretending to be asleep.

“Yo-” Max's voice sounds different, deeper and laced with concern, “no. Fuck! I thought-” August is startled by the sudden yelling, He sits up and pretends to rub his eyes, making eye contact with Max instantly. “Just stay there! Don’t move. I have a plan.” Max hangs up the phone and immediately starts rummaging through his wardrobe, shedding his Pajamas without a care in the world that another person is in the room, August looks away out of respect anyways.

“I'm calling in that favor…” Max says sliding a backpack over his left shoulder, slipping his shoes on as he speaks. “I'll explain when I'm back but you just have to go with it.” August just nods, not wanting to protest considering a. Max seems pissed and b. He does owe him for saving his ass on his first day here. Max makes his leave quickly and August is left to worry the entire morning what exactly Max is going to have him do.

* * *

It’s dark by the time Max reappears in the dorm. August had given up waiting for him and spent his day organizing his things and finally calling his dad to tell him all about how wonderful boarding school is. The lingering thought of what he was gonna have to do for Max hung over his head all day. His imagination running wild. Thought of becoming a drug mule, causing his family even more shame then his mother has when he inevitably gets caught or worse, Having to fight someone for him. He would lose instantly. He would only hope he would come out of it alive thanks to modern medicine.

So when Max walks in the door with a second backpack on his shoulder, and a short, brown haired kid holding onto his arm. August was more than a little confused.

“Go. but be quiet and don't touch anything on my friend's side.” Friend? August quirks an eyebrow at Max who motions for him to come over. “You can use my computer but don't message any of my friends.” Max says before pushing August out the door and gently closing it behind them.

“Who is that?” August asks, seriously wondering if the kid is young enough to in fact be Max’s but deciding the math just doesn't add up, even knowing he is a year older.

“What does it look like, Its my fucking little brother.” Max sounds angry, But August can see the dark circles under his eyes and smells something strange on this breath, something he recognizes-

“Are you drunk?” He asks, pulling Max closer and smelling, And yes, He reeks of booze.

“Dont fucking smell me! What the fuck! And yes but- Fuck! Just Shut up and don't ask questions. You have to let him stay here.” For being drunk, Max seems to have a grasp on what he wants, August sighs,

“Why, What happened? Why are you drunk?” August is more than a little concerned. This is not what he signed up for, nor what he expected.

“Wait till the kid falls asleep, then we can talk- He needs food.” Max shoves his hands into his pocket and pulls out a wad of crumpled up dollar bills, shoving them into August's hands.

“Go to the vending machine. It's outside by the teachers' dorms and you can get whatever would be a good dinner for a thirteen-year-old boy.” August stairs down at his hands, then at his shoeless feet. Max must notice because he quickly shoves off his sneakers before returning to the room, August hears a click of the lock.

He slides on Max’s shoes cringing at how warm and sweaty they are on his sockless feet. He makes quick work at getting to the vending machine. Of course once he gets there he realizes it only takes student cards. Luckily after this morning, he is trying to make a habit of always having it on his person. He picks out some mini pretzels and cranberry juice. It was either that or Mini Oreos and a Diet Coke and that didn't seem like all the healthy of a dinner. He hides them in his pockets and stealthily makes his way back into the dorms.

He tries the handle and of course, it's locked. He knocks gently and hears nothing behind the door. He instantly worries that this was some sort of prank and Max just wanted to lock him out so his Brother would have his bed for the night, instantly he panics at that thought, because his brother might notice his special sheet. His worry is dampened when he door clicks open, and a small head peeks out the door.

“You’re Max's friend.” The tired voice says,

“I am, Can I come back inside? I'm not supposed to be out here.” The door swings open and moments later and August walks in, kicking the foul sneaks off into Max’s side of the room, just missing a bundled up pile of blankets and his stuffed shark on the ground.

“Is that your bed?” August asks, taking the food out from his pocket and handing it to the kid, who instantly lights up and grabs at the bag of pretzels.

“Yeah, I think this is yours, Max said you wouldn't mind if I borrowed him for the night.” August smiles at the boy holding the shark in his arms as he takes a large handful of the snack, August realizes the kid is small, for being thirteen. He would have thought he was seven or eight at most. August realizes he needs to know more and since Max, who he has since realized is passed out from the snoring filling the room, might not get a chance to talk to him without his older brother interfering.

“What's your name?” August asks quietly,

“Gray.” The kid answers casually, August is grateful Max did not swear him to secrecy as to not reveal anything to anyone, August sits down on the floor next to him.

“Gray, Can I ask why you are sleeping on our floor?” August asks, holding his tongue as the kid looks up, clearly deep in thought.

“Father was up all night again, so this morning he started early.” Gray says yawning into his drink,

“Started what, Work?” August asks, ignoring the weird feeling he gets from Gray addressing his dad as ‘father’. Gray nods his head,

“Drinking.” Augusts stomach drops slightly, thinking the dad must have a drinking problem, even though he shouldn't, his worry turn to the drunk roomates sleeping in his bed,

“And your brother…does he often drink like your father…?” August asks, but feel slightly guilty using this tired, clearly starving kid for this kind of information.

“No!” Gray suddenly yells, August lunges forward and puts his finger to his lips, pointing at Max, “Max doesn't drink! He hates alcohol, says it tastes like butthole. H-He had to drink with Father today, just this once. Father drinks more in company then goes to sleep, that's when he was able to sneak me out.” Gray says, August feels like more of the pieces have clicked into place.

“Why did you need to sneak out of the house?” August asks,

“Mom has been away for weeks at a conference in Europe, and Father doesn't like to cook or clean or help me with my homework when mom isn't here, so I called Max and he said I could stay here until mom gets back.” Gray says, crumpling up the empty back of pretzels and putting his hand out. August accepted the garbage and got up from the floor, throwing it into the garbage and getting into bed. * * *

“Hey, Pssst! Hey” August was awakened by the feeling of something pointy repeatedly jabbing into his back, “Psssst.” He rolled over at the persistent noise, to find himself face to face with a shaggy mop of brown hair.

“Gray?” August groaned, remembering the child that fell asleep on his floor, looking over at the windows behind his bed, it's still dark outside. “What's up?” August asks, sitting up from bed.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Gray said, in a whisper, August rubbed his eyes and looked around the room, Max was still sleeping face down in his bed, snoring.

“Did you try to ask your brother?” August asks, sleepy,

“Yes, but he won't get up, he is really tired.” August takes a moment for his brain to wake up, remembering Max’s toxic stench last night, he suspects he is even heavier of a sleeper because of the alcohol. August gives in, realizing Max isn't gonna be of any help, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, When he realizes, his pants are dry. Suddenly he is wade awake, patting the sheets as he scoots forward. He confidently jumps off of the lofted bed, feeling relieved, except, the hard wood floors sending a cold sensation up his body forces him to cross his legs.

“Are you okay?” Gray asks, already standing by the door with a pair of Max's slides slipped onto his small feet.

“Uh huh,” August says quietly, waiting for the sudden intense desperation to fade. He didn't wake up in wet sheets, because he hasn't pissed himself, yet…but he was close to doing it now. August looks to Gray, who was shifting slightly where he was sitting and decided he needed to pull himself together and get them both to the bathroom.

“Let's go, and remember to be quiet, everyones sleeping.” August said, pulling his thighs as far apart as needed to walk. Forgoing shoes all together because bending down to grab his slippers from his wardrobe would not end well with the current state of his bladder.

Thankfully, their hallways are empty. August can't imagine its past four in the morning. August can't imagine anything except for walking up to the urinal, pulling himself out just above his sweatpants and releasing the nights worth of pee that was once destined to be in his sheets. How amazing it will feel to have his pee go where it belongs, the warm liquid running down his leg- August brain lost if though is suddenly jolted to his current predicament, from a warm drop of pee running down the inside of his sweatpants as his foot took its first step down the stairs.

Immediately, August stopped. Throwing both his hands between his legs, letting out a painful whine, practically feeling his pee go back up inside of him. He would have let go completely if he didn't snap back to reality.

“Do you have to go pee?” August turns his head to see Gray standing behind him on the stairs with a confused look on his face.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” August could almost laugh if he didnt think it would cause him to lose the battle. A battle he is determined to not lose in front of his scary roommate's younger brother.

“Come on, let's hurry then. It's not good to wait till the last second. Father always yelled at me and Max for doing that when we were little.” August doesnt have time to react before Gray is grabbing his arm at the elbow, forcing him to keep walking down the many flights of stairs.

August is grateful while cleaning earlier he decided to put on his darkest pair of gray sweatpants because by the time he reaches the bottom of the stairs going at Gray's pace, a wet patch the size of a grapefruit is under his hands, but it's not that noticeable. August takes over leading the way, making the fastest turn of his life and walking his way down to the bathroom, hunched over, just trying to make the final stretch.

August goes in and Gray turns right, towards where the showers are. August wants to just ignore him, run to the urinals and then help the kid find his way, but he decides against it,

“Gray! The stalls are over here.” August yells, and waits a few seconds. Gray comes running back,

“Oops,” He says, walking fastly past August and going into the first stall that comes into view. August thanks every god imaginable he chose a stall and not the urinal. The door at least will create some sense of privacy.

August walks up to the urinal and relives his earlier fantasy, pulling himself out, although it's not exactly the same considering everything down there is a lot wetter than he was imagining it. He waits a few seconds and nothing happens. He can hear the sound of Gray fussing about with something in the stall and he can feel his body wanting to lock up, but he pushes down on all his muscles. He was about to piss his pants walking here and now his body won't go? He won't allow it.

“Please?” August begs under his breath, a small trickle erupts into the urinal, but it doesn't continue. “Come on.” August says to himself, a little louder.

“I'm almost done, sorry…” He hears Gray yell from the stall, immediately, he feels a sharp pain in his stomach, A cramp, his body is fully locked up.

“It's okay, I mean, Take your time.” August yells back, pulling himself away from the Urinal and turning around. The sight of it makes his insides feel like they are twisting. He shoves his hands back between his legs, tears coming to his eyes. It's painful. He almost just wishes he could lay in bed and fall asleep, if it meant he could pee.

To make matters worse he feels ridiculous. He can't pee because a single person is in the bathroom? That single person being a kid who isn't even paying attention to him? He wants to scream but he doesn't, seeing as a toilet flushing filled his ears, followed by Gray, emerging from the stall, adjusting his basketball shorts. He turns on the water to wash his hands and August has to bend forward again, to keep it all inside, He knows he is losing time, but he can't go here, his body has made up its mind and it would take way too long to take a shower and try to make his body go from the water. August realizes he has one choice but he doesn't like it.

“Why do you look like you still need to pee?” Gray asks, August didn't even realize the water had shut off,

“I-uh, Can you stay here, I need to go get something in the common room. Don't move. I'll come back and we can-'' August cant even finish his sentence, He is bolting out the bathroom door. He feels himself leak the second he is out of there, his anxious brain already feeling safer outside of the deemed unsafe to pee room that you're supposed to pee in. Within seconds he finds himself in front of Rowans door, frantically knocking and dancing where he stands.

“Hello, what's the problem?” Rowan says sleepy, August cant even feel bad for waking him up,

“Please!” August says through his teeth,

“August?” Roman finally opens his eyes slightly, “What's wrong? Did you forget your student card again?”

“No, I-Can I use your, ah, Im- Oh-” August cant even speak. He can only dance, with both his hands between his legs,

“Oh my god, Yes, wait!? Is there something wrong with the main bathroom? Oh god, it didn't flood again did it?” Rowan looks out past August down the hallway, blocking his way into the room.

“Rowannnn!” August groans, feeling a large, uncontrollable jet of piss slip past his iron tight grip. “Oh- I'm peeing!” August screeches, pushing past Rowan, It's not stopping, He can feel it running down his legs, He feels it on his feet, knowing its leaving a train behind him as he finally makes it into the bathroom. He doesn't see a urinal, but a toilet with the seat down. Not having time to put it up, not trusting his ability to aim when he has to go so badly, He rushes over, pulls down his pants and slams himself down on the toilet.

“Fuck.” He feels tears fall from his eyes as his body fully unlocks, warm piss pooling around his ass- “Oh no, no no no.” August looks down to reveal his blue and green plaid boxers, still on as he is viciously peeing through them.

“Uh, Everything okay in there?” August looks up to see Rowan, standing at the open door with his hand over his eyes. Still peeing, knowing the mess he made outside, leading all the way to the toilet, there is no hiding this one.

“No. uh ... I might need your help, give me a second though.” August cringes as he says it, feeling like a little kid who didn't make it to the potty on time. He slowly lets his body empty at its own pace, not watching to risk using any of his muscles down there to speed things up, in case they get the wrong signal again and lock up. When he finally finishes he stands up and awkwards pulls his sweatpants off of his feet, feeling how wet they are. “You can come in.” August says quietly, the slow creak of the door hinges follows.

“What happened?” Rowan says, walready grabbing a hand towel from the rack by the sink and throwing it onto the ground, dragging it with his feet to sop up the pale yellow trail of piss on the tiles leading up to August.

“It's a long story.” August says, not wanting to look Rowan in the eyes.

“Does it start with why there is a small child sitting on my bed?” Rowan asks, and August immediately looks at him, Eyes wide, all embarrassment temporarily forgotten.

“I-He, its- I can explain!” August says, His life flashing before his eyes. How Max is going to kill him for getting his stowaway caught.

“You can explain after you get changed, You can borrow some of my sweatpants, do you need boxers too?” August looks down, then back at Rowan,

“I'll go commando, but uh, a laundry bin for my..” August points to his lower half. Rowan nods and disappears into his bedroom before reappearing with a pair of black sweat pants and a plastic hamper.

“Take you time. I'll take care of the kid.” Rowan says, closing the door. August breaks the second he is alone. Thinking how this was far worse than being caught with wet sheets...

[storms-path]

WoLyse Week 2024: Day 4 - Kiss and Make Up

Arashi awoke to terrible, terrible pain. Constant and overwhelming. So she decided to go back to sleep instead.

Arashi awoke later to less terrible pain. Still a bastard-high amount of it, but enough that she could tolerate. So she cracked open her eyes to see where she was. What she saw was a blurry red-and-white shape, which gasped and then bolted away when they saw she was awake. Alisaie, presumably. That was good. Or bad. She always was a worrier. Then there was a lot of noise that sounded an awful lot like shouting. It was taking time for everything to settle in Arashi’s head, so it wasn’t all that clear what they were saying. Just that Alisaie was, as always, taking things much too seriously and someone else (Fourchenault, maybe?) was trying to get her to calm down.

Then the exhaustion made itself known and Arashi knew no more.

Arashi awoke a third time swearing that she’d not get ambushed by such a cowardly tactic again. If exhaustion wanted to make itself known it would do so the right and proper way, dammit. This time when she opened her eyes she found things a lot more clear. Including the pain, alas. But she could at least pick out the person watching over her this time, and… oh. Oh dear.

Alisaie’s post had been usurped. By Lyse. Who looked very, very tired and very, very upset. Arashi was about to reconsider her stance on exhaustion when her wife’s eyes met hers and realisation dawned. The sheer relief in Lyse’s face cut Arashi deeper than any blade. Coward.

“You’re awake,” Lyse breathed. Arashi tried to speak. Coughed and sputtered instead. Tried not to greedily gulp down the water offered. Failed. Coughed and sputtered some more.

“Looks that way,” Arashi managed, eventually. “How long have I been out?” She grimaced at the croak in her throat.

“A week.” That explained the weakness, then. And quite a few other things. “You woke up about three days ago, according to Alisaie, but you were gone again before anyone else could confirm it.” It was amazing to Arashi that Lyse managed to say it so matter-of-factly, given how badly her hands were shaking against the sheets. “You’re under the care of the Leveilleurs until they deem you safe to move. When they do, you’re coming home. With me.”

Arashi said nothing for a while, then managed, “I’m sor-”

“Don’t.” Lyse couldn’t keep the shake out of her voice this time. “Don’t finish that sentence. You’re here and alive and that’s enough.”

Arashi never was good at following instructions. “But I almost…”

“Do you think I don’t know that? Alisaie told me the whole story when we finally got word that you were stable. About Ultima Thule, about their idiotic sacrifices, about you staying behind to finally end things. I thought you were supposed to be the smart ones! I thought you were meant to find the better path, without more blood and death! And then I find out that the only reason anyone came back at all is because of a literal miracle from Hydaelyn, and you… you…!”

Lyse flung herself at Arashi with a sob, heedless of the au ra’s gasp of pain as she wrapped her arms in a death grip around the injured woman. Arashi tried to return it, but one of her arms was decidedly against the idea. The other listened, curling itself around Lyse’s back as she wept into Arashi’s chest. Arashi said nothing, not for lack of trying but for lack of ability. Lyse’s grip was dangerously strong and entirely heedless of Arashi’s wounds. Besides, the pain was what she deserved for what she did.

Eventually, Lyse’s grip lightened. Not completely, but enough to let Arashi breath freely again. “Is he dead?” Lyse spoke, voice muffled by her position against Arashi’s heart.

“Yes. I made sure of it.” She still wasn’t sure how it was she hadn’t joined Zenos there, at the end of everything. Maybe it was the Scions, desperately wishing for her return. Maybe it was Zenos himself, his final wish for her to seek greater strength. Or maybe it was her own will, her own love and conviction guiding her back to the light. To her sister. To her friends. To Lyse.

“Good,” replied Lyse with a fiery conviction… which was immediately undercut with a sniff. Arashi tried to ignore the wetness against what she was sure was a very fine shirt. It was overwhelmingly large on her anyway. Lyse looked up at her, eyes still burning. “Tell me why you did it.”

“He had to be sto-”

“No. Tell me why you did it alone.”

Ah. Arashi considered her options. She could tell her that only she would have been strong enough to put him down for good. That she wouldn’t let her friends die for her sake. That Zenos would have scattered them to the wind. She could lie. But she would carry it for the rest of her life, and besides, Lyse would know. So…

“I wanted to know. That I was stronger than him. I wanted to fight someone at my level and win. No distractions. No pressure of the world on my shoulders. I wanted to be free to fight at my full strength without fear of hurting anyone I cared about.”

For a moment, there was silence. And then, “I see.” Quiet. Thoughtful. Breaking her heart.

“I know,” Arashi continued. “I know that’s horrible. I know it’s wrong. I fought against it for so long, tried to convince myself I was anything more than the bloodthirsty beast Zenos saw me as. But he knew me from the very start for what I was. A sword is meant to be wielded. And my mother made me a very, very good sword.”

“You’re wrong.” Lyse’s voice was quiet, but it boiled with anger. “A bloodthirsty beast? You? The woman who never even thinks before lending a hand to those that need it? Who fights and fights and fights long after anyone else would put down their sword in defence of those who can’t? Whose soul nearly split in two twice over from the pain and the guilt of all she’d done and chose to keep on rallying and liberating and defending anyway? You’re not a monster! You’re a hero! How can you not see that?”

A hero. The same thing she’d been called by so many others, time and time ago. Saviour of Eorzea. Envoy of peace. Liberator. Shadowbringer. So much and so often and every, every time, it had rung hollow. How could a woman who murdered her own father be a hero? How could a woman forged only to kill be some standard of hope to rally around? But hearing it from Lyse, it felt… different, somehow. A blade that cut a thousand times opening a new path to her heart. She could find herself… believing it. And she knew, looking into Lyse’s eyes, that her wife believed it without question. That her faith had never once wavered.

“I don’t know…” Arashi began, but found herself silenced by a finger against her lips.

“I do. If you don’t believe in yourself, believe in me. And if I ever see you straying from that path, I’ll drag you right back onto it. Understand?”

Arashi nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak. But that was enough. Lyse’s finger was replaced by her lips. Once again Arashi found the grip around her tightened, but she found she didn’t much care.

Neither woman noticed the door cracking open slightly, nor the lock of silver-white hair and bright blue eye that peaked through the gap. But they were safe enough. Alisaie wouldn’t tell a soul that their charge was awake until the pair were quite done being insufferably sweet with each other. It was the least they deserved.

[fi-fitz-flynn]

Trust {Self-Para feat. James}

Prior Reading:

How could I refuse? {Self Para} Hiding In The Shadows {Flynn & Smee} In The Dark Corners {Self Para}

@jameshawks

Timeline: Late October/Early November.

Flynn drove away from the warehouse with full intention to call Alex and demand some answers.

But what would he say? And why?

His Alias wouldn’t care.  This used to be what he did. He was a runner for a large cartel. He didn't care what he moved. Just that he got paid.

But she didn’t know that he was burned there. She didn’t know he had turned them in.

So why wouldn’t he do this?

Flynn sighed, pulling over and rubbing his hands over his face.

How many people did he know that tried to protect against this exact thing?

Holley had been shot, Bianca had died, he saw darkness in Gil, that he could only imagine came from this.

What would they say?

What would Holley say? 

They would jump into action, they would find out who was who, they would take it down. Return the objects to who it belonged to. 

But after. After they would look at him, who had been caught fencing not just illegal goods, but magick goods. They would be disappointed. They would know that everything they had trusted him with had been misplaced.

He would prove everything he thought about himself.

But he didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to be someone people looked at with hesitation, or at least not them. Not those connections he made. Fuck the rest of the world.

Flynn was going to do right by them.

So what would they do?

Something righteous. Some type of plan to take it down. Who they could call in the RAS.

Holley would be his first call.

But she was still technically off active duty.

Gil? His roommate? 

Well these days Gil seemed to have another focus. So that left James.

The agent he knew the least.

The only one he could care less about if he hated him.

Maybe James would ship me off. Revoke his ward status before he had to look Holley and Gil in the face. That would be fine. That would be expected. He had broken probably every rule he was given.

He’d have to dust out some of his other aliases. Pull from his offshore bank.

He’d be fine.

And at least he did the right thing.

Fuck it. He was going to be alone again.

Groaning again Flynn rubbed at his face before putting the car back into drive.

Speeding his way back to Swynlake, Flynn didn’t hesitate. He didn’t stop, if he did he wasn’t sure he would keep going. This would ruin his life.

But if he didn’t.

How many others would be hurt or killed because he couldn’t step up.

Flynn didn’t bother with some random ass cover story. The RAS could deal with that, if someone saw him knocking with his fist. He could only really care about one item at a time.

James pulled the door open quickly. His hair and shirt ruffled as if he had run to the door and considering how hard Flynn was knocking, he was sure that was the case.

It only took a second before James ushered Flynn in.

No pleasantries, no small talk. They both knew this wasn’t the time for it.

Relating the whole story to James, Flynn didn’t waste it with frivolous details. The warehouse, the amount of paintings and artifacts, the security. The scales and who knew what else.

“We can confiscate everything but that would just lead everyone there doing it again. We need the location of the auction.”

“You want it to go through?”

“I’ll talk to the main office but I think that’s our best play. We’ll find out who’s the suppliers and who are the buyers. We could get some big names or even small ones out before it can get bigger. You’re going to have to get us that location.”

Flynn paused shaking his head at the other. “You want me to act like everything’s normal.”

“Yeah- You have a problem with it? Obviously people there trust you.”

“Do you trust me?” Flynn questioned his eyes narrowing. Sure he was here but the rules he broke?

“Not really. But I’m sure Shiftwell and Wahed do to some extent and besides you came to me when you didn’t have to. Which means right now we’re on the same side. So go get that information. We’ll plan the raid and we’ll get some people arrested.”

“That’s a pretty simple plan.” Flynn muttered leaning back into the chair.

“The complexities will come into play when we figure out who we’re sending in, If you have to go in. But this is what I do, I hit fast and I hit hard. I’ll take the lead on this side, just get the information we need and it will stay a simple plan.”

So Flynn had to trust them, going back into a snake’s den. But he already made that decision the moment he knocked on James’ door.

No matter what happened he had chosen his side.

[altaniadventures]

Prompt #2 Contest - Au Ra August 2023

Just a little story about sparring. In my mind, this happens some time after the events of Stormblood.

------

"You only think you want to challenge her, but really you should be praying to your Halone that she gets bored and finds something else to entertain her," said Baya. Estinen raised an eyebrow at her.

Altani's sister Bayarma had come to stay with her at her Ishgardian apartment for the next few weeks. Estinen wasn't sure what to make of the tiny Au Ra female. He'd thought Altani was small, but apparently she was the tallest woman in her entire family. Baya was an entire head smaller, and she was an older sister. Woman barely came up to his waist.

They had the same black hair, though Baya put hers in one large braid instead of a multitude of little ones. Her eyes were a softer shade of violet, and her skin was a dark pink. Unlike Altani, Baya did not enjoy fighting at all. Seemingly gentle and quiet, this was the first time she'd willingly started a conversation with him.

Estinen scoffed. "It's only a spar. We've watched her fight a few knights and she was normal. I've fought her before. I don't understand why you're worried. Afraid she'll beat me to a pulp? The other man is still standing. She's in control."

Baya looked over to Altani's current partner. The fully armored knight had pushed himself off the ground and was limping over to a grinning Altani, who was holding out her hand for a courteous shake. The young man was sweating, red faced, and had dozens of new dents in his armor. Altani was smiling, as fresh faced as when she walked through the doors an hour previous. She was not wearing any armor at all.

"That's because those are strangers and they don't pose any challenge to her. If you fight her, she will need to win," Bayarma said slowly. "It was bad enough before, but now it's only gotten worse." She hadn't wanted to come here in the first place, but Altani liked to start her day with a little training. She could hardly tell her baby sister no. The sounds of battle and clashing steel were a reminder of home. Altani might say she never wanted to come back to the tribe, but she sure did recreate her old life on the Steppe at every opportunity.

This dragoon beside her now reminded her of the men at home too. Terse, confrontational, and tall. She had to crane her neck to look at the man. He'd done a few rounds with other partners before coming over to watch Altani's bout with her.

"And while I don't know you like I know my sister, I do think you share it in common," she added.

"And what, pray tell, is that?"

Bayarma shrugged her shoulders. "A stupid desire to win at any cost. It will begin fun enough, but someone will draw blood, get angry, and then you two will stop sparring and begin fighting. There are no happy contests with Altani nowadays. Someone will get hurt, and it will most likely be you."

Estinen's eyes narrowed. He started a retort, but she quietly interrupted him.

"She hasn't been the same since Ala Mhigo," she whispered. "She won't talk about it, but I see it when she fights. Her eyes go glazed with fury, and I know she's seeing something else. I can't imagine what beast haunts her, because she looks so sad." She watched the dragoon's eyes widen with recognition. Ah, so he knew what it was that hung on her sister's shoulders. "Please. I know we are but strangers, but could we end these bouts for now? For her sake, at least."

There wasn't time to respond to that. Altani had come bounding up, her axe resting on her shoulders. Her grin was wide as she smugly addressed them both.

"Once again, I am the undisputed champion of the Ishgard training area. Either of you want to take a swing at the winner?" she asked.

Estinen and Bayarma glanced at each other before he responded.

"Of course not, Eorzean savior," he replied. "Truly we're all dazzled by your presence. Let's stop boring your sister with our pissing contests and show her the Firmament baths." He put his weapon on the rack and began to walk off towards the door.

Altani laughed and placed her axe on rack. "Good idea! You were starting to stink anyways. Let's get tea when we get there. Sorry about the wait, Baya. You know I can't stand leaving a fight unfinished. Hope Estinen wasn't too rude. He doesn't mean to be. He's much nicer than you think."

Bayarma smiled at her sister. "You know, I think you may be right."

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

One Last Contribution | Erik A | Re: Trial 4 Results (2)

As everyone talks, Erik A blinks and looks at his tablet with his free hand, typing something as discussion and volunteering continues for a moment, before he puts it down again to pay full attention to what’s happening. Akito’s asked him a question, so first he goes ahead and answers that.

“First off, nope, I dropped Erika L tokens off in my room, so I don’t have em on me right now. If absolutely need be I can ask if they can be gotten, but it seems like we have enough otherwise, for now."

"More than enough, even, so I’ll go ahead and say, anyone who’s not comfortable putting things on the line if they don’t absolutely need to doesn’t have to here, as long as we have the right amount in the end. Fuck, I’d be willing to just straight up volunteer to take it in the end if that’s an option, but assuming it’s not, better to be certain, yeah? No regrets in whatever you all pick.”

“Also, Ae-ra messaged me, said she’s willing to give all her points for the sake of this too. She knows the conditions set out here, and if she’s allowed to help out, she wants to.”

Oh wow, even someone who had already lost their life was willing to help in the end, huh…? Erik A doesn’t say more about it from there, letting Ae-ra’s choice and offer to stand on its own for her will. 

Some others have already spoken up on what Kori said, Akito with finally renouncing some of the previous ways he’s thought, even if Erik A is sure he still has a long way to go to figure all his shit out, it’s a start that he gives him a nod of acknowledgement for. END too, of course, explains her own perspective on this and offers up as much as she does, Erik A gives a nod of acknowledgement.

And then… once more, he turns to Kori right beside him, and gives a smile before saying something to her himself.

“I may be a little stupid sometimes, I’ll admit that much- But right here and now, with this? Not at all. I’ve had to sit by and watch as people who have nothing to do with any of this are put on the line we have to vote between, some of which I’d have given anything to take on the punishment for if I could, and trust me I thought about that one a lot. I’ve had to sit here knowing that at the end of these trials someone would be dying and there was nothing I could do about it, when I sure as fuck wouldn’t have been hoping for that otherwise."

"Feeling powerless sucks, you know? It’s not surprising to me that I’m not the only one who wants to finally have some control in this mess.”

“So taking on something like that will always be worth it to me to save a life, your life, even if what you did was fucked up. I’d say risking an arm or a leg coming from me is worth that, genuinely. You aren’t any less of a person to me than anyone else, Kori, no matter what you think on your end.”

Just like their previous thread before, no matter what she thought of herself, that was his own thoughts, and his own choice in the matter whether Kori agreed that she was worth it or not.

[ventismacchiato]

19 just playing the part — with the taste of your lips i’m on a ride !

scaramouche x g!n reader

You awkwardly stand outside your dorm building, hands in your pockets trying to hide in the darkness. You looked like you were someone’s side piece in your joggers. It was probably best if you didn’t seem like you tried to dress yourself up, and for Scaramouche out of all people.

A sleek car pulled up near you and you instinctively averted eye contact, assuming it was some pervert. The horn started blaring and you were about to go back inside the building when the top of the car rolled down, showing a disgruntled Scaramouche in the driver’s seat.

“Why the fuck are you ignoring me?” he called out, waving you over with his hand.

You make your way over, tucking yourself into the passenger’s seat.

“I thought you were some creep,” you explain, eyeing the interior of the convertible as Scaramouche rolls the top back up.

“As if someone would try to creep on you when you’re wearing that,” he scoffs, hands on the steering wheel as he starts the car back up, “Put your fucking seatbelt on.”

“What did you expect me to wear?” you say, feeling around for the seatbelt, “Why do you have such a nice car?”

“It isn’t mine,” he answers, gesturing to the keychain hanging on the rearview mirror of a penis with a face embroidered onto it, “Why would I hang that up on my mirror?”

“It’s kind of funny,” you shrug.

He gives you a side-eye.

After what seems like forever, but in reality, was just a ten-minute drive, he pulls in front of the nicer dorms. He turns the engine off, silently getting out and you follow, not knowing what to say to fill in the silence.

He comes around to your side of the vehicle and walks ahead for a bit before stopping, looking back, and furrowing his brows.

“Are you coming or not?”

“You were so quiet I didn’t know what to do,” you huff, following behind him.

“Do you need me to instruct you on everything?” he states, pulling out his ID as you got near the doors to scan you both in, shoving you in first.

“Finally bringing someone home?” a sultry voice calls out, you turn to see a blue-haired male sitting by the reception desk, raising up his fist in what you assumed to be solidarity.

“Shut the fuck up, Kaeya,” Scara grumbles, grabbing you by your elbow and tugging you along.

“Who is that?” you question as Scaramouche lets go of your sleeve to lead you down the hall.

“The annoying RA,” Scaramouche answers, making a left.

“Is Childe going to be there when we…?” you trail off, still feeling awkward about what you both were planning to do.

“Are you into exhibitionism?” he teases, finally stopping in front of the door near the hallway, “And no, he’s at a football camp for the weekend.”

“How do you even know what that kink is when you’ve never had sex?” you tease back, watching as he flips through the multiple keys on his keyring.

He gives you a brief look before finally finding the correct key, “I’d prefer to fuck someone who meets my standards, if I die a virgin because of that then so be it.”

“Are you admitting you’re waiting until you are in love to fuck?” you tease, following behind him and into his apartment.

You slide your shoes off and trail behind him as he leads you in. It’s much nicer than your dorm, and you marvel at the sight of the kitchen. All you’d been given was a mediocre microwave that hardly worked half the time.

He leads you to the living room, sitting on the couch and patting the spot next to him. You tentatively sit down, hands in your lap as you look around.

“Nice place,” you nod, not knowing what else to say.

“Anything is nice compared to the shitty dorms,” he replies, leaning back against the couch and manspreading beside you.

“Just take the compliment,” you sigh, tugging on your hoodie strings. You didn’t quite know what to do with your hands at the moment.

Scaramouche turns to you, tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he contemplated his next few words.

“Should we just fucking get to it or what?”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, which in turn causes him to give you a bewildered look.

“That isn’t really romantic,” you chuckle.

“This isn’t supposed to be romantic,” he counters.

“But we should be in character,” you insist, gesturing to the both of you.

“An apartment shared by two college men isn’t romantic.”

“It can be!” You insist.

“Fine,” he sighs, reaching over to the dimmer and turning down the lights, “Is this better? Should I light some candles?”

“This will do because I know you don't own candles.”

“This is better because I can’t see your face,” he says, giving you a fleeting look before stripping himself of his jacket, “You’re going to have to come closer.”

“Why don’t you come closer?”

“You’re so aggravating,” he grumbles, but abides by your request and slides himself across the couch until your thighs are touching.

“We have to be facing each other,” you say, “Our necks will hurt if we do it like this.”

“What do you suggest then?”

You pat your thighs half-heartedly.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding, why do I have to sit on you?” he questions, narrowing his eyes at you.

“You’re wearing jeans and I’m wearing sweats, my lap is more comfortable,” you explain, gesturing to the sweatpants you bought in highschool years ago.

He eyes your lap which makes you squirm. If you didn’t want to be here all night you were going to have to break the tension.

“It’s just practice,” you reassure, reaching out to grab his shoulder, and giving it a light tap.

He lets you touch him before finally complying and hooking his legs over and across until he was situated on top of you, legs wrapped around your waist, and letting out a huff of annoyance.

“This is a humiliating position,” he complains, but makes no move to get off.

“What if one day you have to play the part of a bottom?” you laugh, the feeling of his weight above you confusing your body. It felt sort of nice.

“Shut up,” he says, reaching for your hand and placing one on his waist and the other on his shoulder, “Let’s just get it over with so we can eat.”

“Close your eyes,” you instruct.

“How do I find your lips if I close them? You close them.”

“I never considered that.”

“This is fucking complicated.”

“It can’t be that hard,” you insist, more to yourself than him, you had no idea what you were doing.

“Do you trust me?”

“Not really.”

He raises a brow at you.

“Okay fine, I do.”

Being this close to him you were able to take him in, like the way Scaramouche looked like a literal cat? With his dark hair held back that framed his face, and his slanted eyes, perfectly accentuated by the sharp angle of his eyebrows. His pointed nose and surprisingly full pink lips. Not a blemish in sight.

Maybe you should have cleaned up a little bit before he picked you up.

Scaramouche’s eyes are on yours then they flicker towards your lips for a quick second, silently asking for permission.

All of a sudden Scaramouche is leaning in, finger under your chin to tilt your face up to his and you let your other hand make its way to the back of his neck. The last thing you see before shutting your eyes are Scaramouche’s lips, which fall open gently the moment he leans in to kiss you.

The distance between you two is close and Scaramouche’s lips are soft against your own. Your body, tense from anticipation, crumbles into the abandon. The beat of Scaramouche’s heart is loud against your own chest, emotions lodged in your throat, and soft indigo hair curling through the spaces between your fingers.

Scaramouche’s palm is callused and warm against your face, careful as his thumb caresses your jaw. It takes a while for the two of you to find your rhythm, a bit awkward as you try to let your faces fit against one another.

The kiss sparks and fizzles and you pull back to catch your breath, eyes open to catch Scara chasing your lips again. And you let him, extra practice never hurt anybody.

He tastes like a faint berry and you let yourself become lost in it, just like your character would, before pulling back once again. You let yourself breathe as Scara slowly leans back, eyes on yours as you both process the last few minutes.

Your hands are still on his waist and his are still on your shoulders, a hairsbreadth apart.

“Your lips are pretty chapped,” Scaramouche states, breaking the silence.

“I bite them a lot it’s a bad habit, alright?”

“I could tell since you kept biting mine.”

“Why do you taste like berry, are you wearing chapstick?”

“Yeah, something you should’ve worn.”

“You seemed to enjoy it.”

“Edward enjoyed it,” Scaramouche corrects, retracting his hands and pulling himself off of you, “Not me.”

“At least it’s finally over with,” you nod, stretching your arms over your head. Your stomach felt funny, from butterflies or hunger was the question.

“Any notes?” Scaramouche asks from beside you, running a hand to fix his now disheveled hair.

“As in?”

“Like what can I improve on?”

“I don’t have anything to compare it to so I don’t know,” you truthfully say, “You were fine though.”

You both grow quiet again.

“Do you like pasta?”

“I guess so.”

“Alright,” he muses, standing up and making his way to the kitchen, “Cus it’s either that or ramen. And I’m not feeding you again.”

You have nothing else to do so you stand up behind him and follow him like a lost puppy, situating yourself by the bar as Scaramouche ties an apron around his waist.

“Do you need help?” you ask, more out of politeness since you didn’t really know what to do in a kitchen.

He gives you a look as he begins to turn the stove on, “Can you cook?”

“No.”

“How have you survived college this far?”

“Takeout.”

Scaramouche gives you a disinterested look before going to the fridge and grabbing a pepper, sliding you a cutting board and knife, and gesturing to it, crossing his arms. You swallow your nerves.

You slowly grab for it and the pepper, slicing the pepper terribly under Scaramouche’s judgmental stare.

“You’re hopeless,” Scaramouche grumbles, making his way to come behind you and place his hand on yours and the other on the pepper. His chest was against your back as he started explaining how to cut the pepper in your ear while simultaneously berating you. You couldn’t focus on the mini-lecture he was giving with how low his voice was near your ears.

“Did any of that go into your thick skull?” Scara questions, letting go of your pepper and eyeing it.

“I tried,” you lamely defend.

“It’s decent, but we can’t use it because you didn’t wash your hands.”

You fight the urge to point the knife at him.

just playing the part !

masterlist — prev | next

synopsis: you and scaramouche are both drama majors and have been at each other’s throats vying for the same lead roles since high school. but when you’re both cast as each other’s love interest in your second year you’re forced to be civil with your academic rival and see him in a new light. are his feelings for you true or is he just playing the part?

taglist-open!: @monochromaticelliot @kaedear @stxrgxzxr @shirmxie @elakari @lacy-lady @linn-a-a @one-offmind @kithewanderingme @quepasoash @leathernourishingshoepolish @mangobee @lxry-chxn @dameofthorns @scarasaver @kythe1a @elysiasbae @hikaru-exe @tokkishouse @raiihoshii @cherrybeomgyu @kunikuzushiit @thenightsflower @lilneps @goodthingimsam @lovelyiez @euhla @beriiov @abvolat @kittycasie @b0bafl0wer @bubblyclouds @atlatcaheart @artssleepy @baelloraa @tartagli-yuh @satowaluverr @hangesextra @scaranaris-lil-niko @caffinatedcoma @wheneverthesunrise @hajimeseyo @itsyourgirlria @hyunrei @redactedhimbo @caliginous-skies @vinskyspuff @miissfortune @criminalinthemaking @scaramouches-girlfriend [1/2]

author’s notes: stole the kiss scene from one of my fics 🫡 i tried to make it nice but also awkward 😭 hope you enjoyed you horny fucks 📸🤨 lmk ur thoughts in rbs, asks, and replies! and tag list is open again but send an ask cus i miss replies a lot 💔

[daisybianca]

CARLOS SAINZ INSTAGRAM AU

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 575.071 others

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view all 182.502 comments

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