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marauderundercover · 3 years ago

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Taking Chances Ch. 12: Resting at Home (Alt Prompt: Baking)

AO3

Waking up at five in the morning, feeling like you’re surrounded is disorienting. Waking up with a sore throat and shooting pain in her shoulder was also disorienting. Until she remembered everything from the night before. Adrien was not going to be happy. He’d begged her to tell him if she ended up going on patrol with her father, wanting her to be safe. She didn’t tell him, and now she was certain he was going to be angry. Unless she could get back to the hotel before he woke up. But it was still unlikely that he wouldn’t know. Plagg was a tattle tale. Sighing, she carefully gets out of the bed, maneuvering around her brothers’ sleeping forms on the floor. Walking out of the room, she instantly feels anxious. Deciding a glass of water might calm her down, she heads towards the kitchen.

“I believe you should be resting, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says, making her jump. She winces as her shoulder jostles, trying not to frown at the way Alfred’s lips purse. She knew he was worried. And she knew her family was going to be unbelievably overprotective for the next six months. Or maybe, six years. She’s not exactly sure how protective they actually are.

“I was going to get a glass of water.” She says softly, pointing to her throat. “I was also feeling a little anxious.”

“Very well. I was about to start the preparations for breakfast. If you promise to sit and refrain from straining yourself, you may come with.” He says. She grins, immediately falling into step with the man.

“Could we bake something for everyone for breakfast?” She asks, glancing up at him. “It doesn’t have to be anything too difficult. I mean, I’d prefer to make croissants the first time I bake for them, but there’s not exactly time to do that for breakfast.” She rambles as they walk into the kitchen. Alfred immediately walks over to a cabinet and grabs a glass, filling it with water before handing it to her and raising an eyebrow. She smiles gratefully and sips on the water, relishing in the coolness on her throat.

“I believe our agreement was that you would sit and refrain from straining yourself.” Alfred says, moving around the kitchen with ease. Marinette huffs but plops onto one of the stools.

“It doesn’t have to be anything difficult! It could even be….muffins! Muffins are popular for breakfast here, right?” She suggests, flailing her arms, wincing as she does so. It was going to be annoying remembering that her injury was there this time around. There was no Miraculous Cure when her opponent was just a bad guy, not a Miraculous holder.

“If I allow you to turn on the mixer and place the liners in the tin, will you be satisfied?” Alfred asks with a sigh. Marinette grins and nods. There’s comfortable silence as Alfred moves about the kitchen, measuring out the ingredients.

“Alfred?” She finally asks, glancing at the man who only hums in acknowledgement. “Who is Slade?” She asks. He pauses, the measuring cup positioned over the bowl. He takes a deep breath and dumps the ingredient in before straightening even more.

“He was part of the organization that Master Damian grew up in. He’s always hated both Master Bruce and Master Damian. And now, I imagine, you’re also on his list.” He says calmly, clearly looking at her for some type of reaction.

“So now another villain is after my Miraculous? Joy.” She says sarcastically, pouting as she slumps in her seat. “I was kinda hoping he was just some random guy. Not a legitimate villain.” She adds. Alfred simply shakes his head, sliding the muffin tin and liners towards her.

“I can assure you, Miss Marinette. Between your father and brothers, this man will not succeed in taking your Miraculous. Marinette frowns, hoping the man is right.

---

Sitting straight up in bed, Damian tenses. This was not his bed. Blinking, he looks around the room and lets his shoulders relax slightly. He was in Dupain Cheng’s room, of course. She had been attacked last night- He pauses. He frowns as he looks at her pillows, no sight of her. Leaping over his brothers, he knocks on the door for the bathroom attached to her room.

“Dupain Cheng?” He says lowly, frowning at the lack of a response. He pushes the door open. Empty. So she was missing. She could not have gotten far. And she had to have left of her own volition. No one could have made it past all of his siblings. Leaving the room, he decides his first course of action should be to ask Pennyworth. Judging by the time, he should be in the kitchen. Making his way into the kitchen (his technical ban should not be an issue since he was actively looking for Dupain Cheng), he pauses when he sees the girl he was looking for, slumped onto the island.

“Ah, Master Damian. Breakfast should be ready soon. Would you care to fetch the rest of your siblings?” He asks. Damian frowns, glancing at Dupain Cheng. Was she okay? Should she really be up and running around after yesterday? She might be one of Paris’ heroes, but surely she wasn’t used to being stabbed?

“Very well.” He says, instead of arguing. He would just have to monitor Dupain Cheng from afar. After all, she did take a sword meant for him.

---

Marinette sighs, pushing herself off the counter. She wasn’t sure how serious breakfast was for the family, but she certainly didn’t want to scare anyone with her bedhead. Hopping off the stool, she winces slightly.

“Miss Marinette, I do wish you would refrain from jostling your wounds so much.” Alfred says, a small frown on his face. Mari grins awkwardly.

“Sorry Alfred.” She apologizes before rushing back up the stairs. She glances into several open doors, suddenly wishing she’d counted earlier to know which was hers. She huffs, prepared to give up, when someone clears their throat. She whirls around, raising an eyebrow at Damian.

“That room is yours.” He says simply, pointing at a door. “Everyone has vacated your room in order to get dressed in their own.” He adds, turning around and walking into a room. Well that’s new, she thinks, surprised that he’s still talking to her. Sure they talked briefly last night, but she honestly thought it was a fluke. Not that she minded. She really did want a relationship with all of her siblings. After being an only child for fourteen years, it was amazing to have so many siblings. Sure they didn’t grow up together, but she was certain that they could all become close. Walking into her room, Marinette quickly gets dressed in clothes that had obviously been left in there by Cass, since they were much smaller than anything the boys could have worn. Smiling, she ducks into the bathroom to deal with her bedhead, squeaking in surprise as something flies into her face.

“Tikki?” She says, shocked at the way the Kwami flies at her.

“You could have died! You silly, silly girl! I could have lost you last night, Marinette.” She cries, flying at Marinette’s face and patting her with her tiny paws. And in that moment, Marinette swears her heart breaks.

“Oh, Tikki.” She says softly, bringing her hands up to cradle the trembling Kwami. “I’m okay, I promise. Don’t worry, I was with my family. They wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I’m right here.” She reassures her small friend, wincing as she continues shaking.

“I couldn’t have saved you, Marinette. It wasn’t magic. There would have been no cure. I healed your shoulder as much as I can without disrupting the balance, but it’s still going to take weeks to fully heal.” Tikki says, her big eyes watery.

“I know, Tikki. But I couldn’t just let Damian get hurt. He’s my little brother, whether he likes it or not.” She says, patting her friend’s head gently before moving to her brush.

“But-” Tikki starts, pausing when Marinette turns her full attention back to her.

“But nothing Tikki. I’m okay, you’re okay, and my family is okay. That’s all we can ask for.” She says, going back to her attempts to tame her hair. Her phone, which she had set on the side of the sink, starts buzzing incessantly. Without glancing at the caller ID, she answers.

“Marinette Dupain Cheng, where the hell are you? Plagg says you left late last night and didn’t come back!” The worried voice of Adrien Agreste leaks through the speakers. Oh, right. She forgot to text him. Oops.

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erazonpo3 · 4 years ago

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Intro to my infodump on Alphecca but also I’m getting more and more shameless about it so I’ll probably dump a lot of other shit too later but back to the point: I never tend to stop mutating characters in my head but for all intents and purposes Alphecca is at a point where I’m satisfied with how fleshed out she is in my mind, so I figured I’d write it down.

SO basically a rundown:

Alphecca’s main purpose is to be the “Season 1” villain, in which her part in the story can be expanded but mostly wraps up in a self-contained plotline, and has relatively low stakes so that there’s room for the narrative to escalate. That doesn’t mean that she doesn’t pose a threat as an antagonist- because she absolutely does- but simply that her behaviour of terrorising people and raising bodies is already the status quo, and she has no grand design or plan of action. Cassandra steps in to change that status quo for the better, but her failing to do so won’t leave anyone any worse off than they already are. Yet with that being said, Alphecca is also built to be Cassandra’s antagonist specifically, so of course there has to be a resolution there.

Alphecca as Cassandra’s antagonist

Alphecca exists to be a foil to Cassandra, so that when you put them together their differences shine brighter. Where Ilione is a foil to Cass in that she’s largely her polar opposite: extraverted, very emotionally sensitive, inexperienced etc, Alphecca is a foil to Cass by being very similar to her but for a few glaring differences. It’s worth noting that while their personalities are pretty different, they share a same jaded perspective on life and struggles with mental health that stem from an ugly ZT origin story.

Both women were approached by Zhan Tiri during a time they felt powerless, and sided with her over loved ones in an attempt to regain control over their life. They were encouraged to embrace malice and sadism, had their faith in their loved ones undermined and had those insecurities stoked, and all this instability created the perfect storm for them to be easily manipulated and betrayed. Zhan Tiri operates as a cult leader does, seeking out vulnerable people and cutting them off from their remaining support networks until they have nowhere left to run, even if they want to.

It’s not to say Cassandra wasn’t making her own choices, but this kind of gaslighting shouldn’t be dismissed either. Some people will forever lack sympathy for her, but that’s exactly the point of Zhan Tiri’s manipulation- if nobody’s willing to help you out of the hole you’ve dug for yourself you’re going to be stuck there to rot, so you may as well keep digging in the hope that you might hit gold eventually.

Alphecca and Cassandra are both victims to Zhan Tiri’s super fun form of control, but the major difference between them was that Rapunzel remained willing to help Cassandra out of that hole. Alphecca didn’t have a Rapunzel, or a Varian, or a Eugene, and instead over time she became twisted and warped into a menace who doesn’t need Zhan Tiri’s encouragement to do terrible things anymore. And that’s what makes these two foils to each other; Alphecca is the monster Cassandra never was but could have easily become if she was never shown compassion.

Thus the only person who can stop Alphecca is someone who can empathise with her, at least to some degree. In fighting terms, Alphecca has a bottomless bag of tricks up her sleeve and the nature of her undeath makes her essentially immortal. She cannot be conquered, only slowed down, and the more pissed off she gets with you the more volatile and dangerous she becomes.

Cassandra initially sees Alphecca as a chance to prove herself, both as a force for good and as someone who can rid the world of Zhan Tiri’s legacy. However, it quickly becomes apparent that Alphecca cannot be defeated through conventional means, because otherwise warriors like Adira (who has encountered Alphecca before) would have been able to deal with the problem. Considering that Alphecca herself has sought out her phylactery to destroy it- with an extra thousand years of hunting up her sleeve- but failed to do so, makes it apparent that she can only be stopped by being reasoned with. But for a lich who hardly remembers the human experience, that’s pretty difficult.

It ultimately means the only person who can stop her is Cassandra, because the only person who can reason with her is someone who can empathise with her from a place of camaraderie rather than condescension, and recognises that the cycle of violence needs to be broken by compassion and not just violence but harder.

The Storyline

Basic plotline goes like this:

Early on into her journey Cassandra learns about the bone witch that roams the wilderness and terrorises innocent villagers, desecrates the dead, is probably a cryptid because legends have existed about her for generations, et cetera and so on. When evidence appears that this witch is real Cassandra and decides to investigate, because this is a pretty straightforward “good guy stops the bad guy” situation for her to jump into. (By this point Ilione is also tagging along).

Their first encounter with Alphecca is pretty tame. They intercept her at a mausoleum, she does a fancy music number/generally has a good time fucking around with them, but ultimately skulks back into the shadows at the end. It’s sort of all in good spirits and Alphecca isn’t ‘defeated’ by any means but still bows out as a show of good sportsmanship.

Their future encounters are a lot less nice.

The more Cassandra continues to pursue her, the more pissed off Alphecca gets, and when Alphecca gets pissed off she begins to embrace her sadism and her outbursts become more violent and cause more collateral damage. She lowers herself to underhanded tactics like throwing Cass into a nightmare reality a la Tromus and becomes increasingly sinister. The ‘tentpole’ of this plotline probably marks the shift from Alphecca as a trickster figure into a more dangerous one as Cass and Lio learn that she was also a disciple of Zhan Tiri.

The situation ultimately comes to a head by the finale, by which point Alphecca is very much unhinged and out for blood. She becomes fixated on Cassandra and does her best to hit below the belt, sniffing out her insecurities about her past with the moonstone and bludgeoning them with a metaphorical sledgehammer, and basically tries to goad her into a complete spiral.

This is the emotional climax, and the underpinning of Cassandra’s character development in becoming emotionally sound enough to shake it off. It’s at this point she understands what Alphecca is doing; Alphecca is caught in her own eternal maelstrom of emotional torture and latches onto anyone she can drag down with her for the small amount of pleasure it brings. She’s able to recognise those feelings because she can empathise with them and knows exactly what she needs to hear in that moment.

There’s probably some extended backstory revealed by this point too, going into a little more detail about the way in which Alphecca was caught in Zhan Tiri’s web down to becoming a lich, but of course what’s more important is the resolution.

With Cassandra getting through to her, Alphecca is able to pull herself together long enough to ease the situation back down again and have a more honest conversation about hope and humanity and compassion and all those good things. Cassandra admits that she can’t do much to ‘fix’ her, but starts by continuing Rapunzel’s legacy and showing forgiveness and compassion to someone who doesn’t think they deserve it. (Alphecca isn’t entirely regretful of all her actions, but does acknowledge that she ought not project her pain onto others anymore.)

Alphecca Post-S1

Alphecca doesn’t really get a ‘redemption arc’ because honestly I don’t want her to be redeemed. It’s not really a moral stance so much as I believe she’s genuinely disinterested in being a better person, she just has the selfish desire to be able to live happily again. And that’s kind of all she needs. She doesn’t care much about other people, but she’s working on herself and that means squashing the sadism.

I think it also continues to make a good parallel to Cass: Cassandra is trying to do better not only for herself but by others because she sees it as her own social responsibility, whereas Alphecca just wants to do better for herself and if other people benefit from that, that’s just a bonus.

Alphecca doesn’t join Cassandra on her travels either, although she does make appearances as a reoccurring character. Cassandra is upfront about the fact that while she wants to help Alphecca, she needs to help herself first, and the damage Al inflicted on her is slow to heal. They’re both in danger of dragging each other down in their own spirals so it’s best that they give each other space, but it’s also very important that they’re able to share their experiences. It’s a minor struggle between Cassandra and Ilione that Lio doesn’t really understand a lot of Cass’ struggles, although she does try to be sensitive about it. Alphecca provides that alternate perspective: Lio can provide support but little empathy, while Alphecca can provide empathy but little support.

I’ve also got more Alphecca stuff living in my brain regarding her origins, her own foray with Death and her association with lesser and greater deities, her relationships to other ZT cultists, et cetera et cetera but I’ll probably stop here to keep it succinct.

But basically over the course of this plotline Alphecca goes from wacky evil villain to really tragic but still evil villain to not really evil villain but still kind of a jerk neighbour that shows up at your house asking for your wifi password acquaintance.

#basically my build-a-bear guide to making an antagonist #it's fun #of course there's so much more to making characters and villains than just this but basically foils good #alphecca #cta au #my art #cassandra #female villains can have little a homoeroticism as a treat

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welcometophu · 5 years ago

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Into the Split: Reinforcements 5

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Reinforcements 5

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More people drift in throughout Saturday. Alaric is kept busy greeting newcomers and making introductions, while Pawel, Alia, and a small group of Mages from New Hampshire and Burlington stay in a side room to explain and re-explain the situation to the new arrivals. After a time, Mac joins them, popping in and out to get refreshments and make sure Pawel stays steady.

Chris sticks close by Alaric’s side, one hand always on Alaric’s back or arm, low and steady. When Alaric grumbles too loudly, Corbin swoops in to take over, Drea joining him as Alaric and Chris disappear.

Disappearing sounds like a great idea. Nikolai and Seth head up the stairs as well, turning the opposite direction to head into the guest wing while Alaric drags Chris into the family wing. From the sound in the hall, they don’t make it to Alaric’s room before there’s a low growl and someone thumps back against a wall.

That also sounds like a great idea, although Nikolai wouldn’t mind a little less violence involved.

As soon as he and Seth are in their room, Nikolai’s already stripping and Seth grins as he climbs into the bed. It’s a nice way to spend some time and recover from the crowds. Seth grounds him, and Nikolai hopes he does the same for Seth.

Hours pass, and darkness starts to creep into the room as Nikolai’s stomach growls. Finding food would mean leaving this space and braving the crowds again. He burrows closer to Seth and tugs the blanket up over them both, cocooning in the warmth and darkness.

A sharp rap on the door, and it’s opened immediately after. Corbin pokes his head in. “Thorne’s going to light things on fire. We have beer.”

“I locked that,” Nikolai says, emerging from the blankets to glare at him.

Corbin twists the knob and it turns easily. “Guess not,” he replies. “My point is, we’re having a bonfire and if you don’t want to be left behind when we head to the place, get your asses outside. It’s a great view, maybe a mile walk or so.” He starts to close the door, then pushes it back open again. “The other point is, nobody’s going to just stumble on us once we get there. Which means yes, it’s a chance to get away from the crowds and hang out with a smaller group of people.”

He closes the door with a thunk, but his footsteps don’t go far. A moment later, there’s another rap further down the hall, and Corbin starts talking again.

“I can be ready to rejoin the world.” Seth pushes the blankets down, untangling them from his feet. He rolls over and plucks his shirt from the floor, dragging it over his head. His hair is a mess, sticking out in every direction; Nikolai’s not sure it can be tamed. It’s not the only part of them that’s a mess, either.

“We probably need a shower,” he says, grabbing for the hem of Seth’s shirt.

Another rap against the door, but it stays closed this time. “If you’re planning on showering, make it quick,” Drea calls out. “If I see you heading to the showers, we’ll wait, otherwise we’re leaving.”

Seth rolls out of bed, grabbing their towels from the back of a chair. He tosses one to Nikolai before wrapping one around his own waist. “Give us five minutes,” he calls back as he opens the door.

Drea wrinkles her nose, huffing an almost silent laugh. “We’ll give you fifteen,” she says. “Go get cleaned up.”

When they finally make it downstairs, it’s a smaller group that Nikolai expects. Dax and Nate are back from wherever they went. Their hair is wet as if they’ve freshly showered, but Nikolai didn’t seem them in the baths upstairs. Alaric seems more relaxed than he did earlier, glancing up from his conversation with Corbin when they emerge, then going back to it just as earnestly. Chris chats with Dax and Nate, while Cass watches nearby. Trish, Sera, Rory and Kit, Stormy, and Dayton all round out the group. It’s still larger than makes Nikolai happy, but it’s more reasonable, as long he doesn’t have to deal with Dayton’s constant quiet stare.

There’s no rush to get to the location, and they meander down a pathway behind the house that Nikolai thinks might lead to somewhere near the river. They’ve already been walking a while when Nikolai realizes someone’s missing. “Where’s Thorne? You said he was going to light a fire.”

Rory makes a noise. “Doing something.”

“Or someone,” Stormy says cheerfully. “Probably someone. I have a lighter, so we don’t need his Talent for making flames. We’ll handle it old school, and if anything gets out of hand, I’ll just rain on it to put it out.”

“We will still have a bonfire, never fear,” Corbin assures them, ducking between Nikolai and Seth, sliding his arms through theirs. “I promised a quiet night and relaxation, and I will deliver.”

“How’s it going to be quiet with you there?” Alaric rumbles.

Corbin squawks and lets go, disappearing in a flurry of feathers as he flies up and lands on Alaric’s head in raven form. He pecks lightly at Alaric’s head, while Drea laughs.

The mood is far lighter than it was earlier.

The walk takes longer than Corbin implied, but when they arrive, it’s worth it. They’ve gone past the swimming hole, Nikolai thinks, circling back somewhat as the path went uphill, and they’ve emerged at the top of a small cliff and waterfall. Water cascades beneath them down into the small river, flowing back towards the house. It creates a natural background noise, and it sets Nikolai at ease.

True to her word, Stormy quickly sets up the fire and gets it roaring. Bags are unpacked, bringing out chairs, blankets, pillows, and small tables with food. Seth claims one of the oversized chairs, pulling Nikolai down to sit with him in it. They’re squeezed in, but it’s not uncomfortable.

When someone presses a red cup into his hand, filled with liquid that smells yeasty and bitter, Nikolai accepts it and takes a cautious sip. He wrinkles his nose; it’s… darker… than he expects. He can’t really think of a word for it, but the second sip isn’t as bad as the first. Bitter, definitely. Maybe a little fruity, too, he isn’t exactly sure. He passes it to Seth, who takes a long gulp, obviously liking it better than Nikolai did.

“We have beer, hotdogs, and s’mores for later,” Drea calls out. “Tonight it’s cook your own food over the fire, grab yourself a bun, and feel free to drink and eat as much as you want.”

Nikolai remembers s’mores from his childhood, and he’d rather have those than beer. But the hotdogs are out first, and he joins the people crouching around the edge of the fire to toast two of them over the flames—one for him and one for Seth, at least to start.

Stormy sits cross-legged on the ground, drumsticks in her hand as she taps a rhythm against a flat rock. Dayton sits behind her, leaning back to back with Stormy, her head tipped back and eyes closed. There’s a low rumble as if she’s purring to the rhythm of Stormy’s improvised beat.

Drea sits with Corbin’s head in her lap as she combs through his hair with her fingers. Sera has a skateboard that she balances on, shifting back and forth easily as she talks, hands moving. Her gaze seems fixed somewhere else, as if she reads something Nikolai can’t see at the same time as she speaks.

“Should’ve brought my guitar,” Trish comments idly from where she sits on the ground, leaning back on her hands. She glances to where Rory curls in a double chair with Kit, and he huffs a low laugh.

“Feels good to relax tonight,” Rory admits. “Trying to learn how to be social without a guitar in my hands.”

Nikolai remembers the way Rory seemed to keep it as a shield when they were in his room. His statement makes a lot of sense.

Kit pats Rory’s chest. “We can leave any time you want,” he assures him. “I’m just avoiding Carolyn for a little bit. She’s… somehow involved in the inner echelon of whatever planning is going on and I don’t want to be that involved. People seem to think twins are a package deal.”

Rory covers Kit’s hand with his own, fingers curling as he holds him still. “I’m fine here. And I’m glad you’re not getting involved at that level. I really hope Thorne isn’t, and I really hope that Dad keeps Mom and Dad from jumping in the deep end. Which might be difficult. Mom tends to jump first and think later, and Dad’s usually following her to keep her out of trouble.”

“They must’ve been fun when they were our age,” Trish observes.

“Actually, Dad started the band then, and I think that gave Mom and Dad plenty to focus on which kept them out of trouble.” Rory slumps a little further in his chair, curling closer to Kit. “Someone in there has to be the voice of reason, or else they’re going to end up world jumping or something again.”

“Not without us,” Seth says.

“‘M’fine if I don’t have to go back,” Alaric rumbles, and Chris makes a sound of agreement.

“They’re doing what you wanted, though, right?” Cass asks. She’s claimed a spot on the ground, across Dax’s lap but her feet are over Nate’s legs as she tilts her head against Dax’s shoulder. “All these people getting along and talking about things instead of trying to fight with each other. This is the kind of thing you wanted to happen.”

“It’s what needs to happen for our future,” Dayton replies before Alaric can. “Particularly if we want to fight against your child armies.”

“Our what?” Cass sits upright, Dax grunting as she elbows him in the chest. “My what?”

Dayton levels a look at her, unblinking.

Cass pushes to her feet, hands in fists as she looks down at Dayton. Dax rubs his chest, but it’s Nate who stands and touches Cass’s hand silently.

“What?” she snaps, glaring at him. A moment of silence and she spots Dax. “Shit. I’m sorry. I just—”

“Overreacted, I know.” Dax pushes to his feet, offers a hand. “C’mon, let’s take a walk.”

“Which is code for don’t anyone else take a walk,” Chris murmurs.

“Or pick a different direction,” Cass retorts. “Honestly, there is a lot of forest out here. I’m sure you can find your own little hookup corner if you need and leave us to ourselves.”

Alaric tilts his head back. “They always stink,” he mumbles. “Always.”

Seth passes the cup back to Nikolai, and this next sip isn’t as bad. He has food in his stomach, and he feels a little warm, and kind of relaxed. He takes a longer gulp before handing the cup back to Seth so he can finish it.

Someone refills it after that, and it’s warm and comfortable enough that Nikolai loses track of how many times it empties out and seems to magically be refilled. It seems to go quickly, with both him and Seth sharing the same cup, but at the same time, the night stretches out, time elongating in the flicker of the firelight, and the ease of slow conversation spilling around them.

He doesn’t understand a lot of what they talk about. The conversation has left the current problems of the world behind and moved on to movies and television and books and sports. Cass comes back and talks about clothes with Trish, while Alaric and Chris disappear. At some point Drea and Corbin drift away for a while. Nikolai thinks Dayton is gone, but he spots her again by the food, talking to Stormy as they pile chocolate on peanut butter cookies and leave out the marshmallow.

Peanut butter s’mores are new to him, and they are delicious. He has to stop drinking the beer in order to enjoy the marshmallows. The first taste of sweet after bitter makes his nose wrinkle and he can’t help the full body shudder. Someone hands him a bottle of water and he drinks it down, cleansing his palette for the sweet dessert.

They have four bags of marshmallows when the night begins. Nikolai thinks that it is entirely possible that he and Seth eat half a bag of crisp, warm, slightly burnt sweetness on their own.

Mac appears by the food and pours herself a beer before she joins the group. She steps over Trish and lowers herself to sit next to Cass, her feet drawn in and knees bent. “So, they’ve gone past getting to know each other and a bunch of them have moved off to another room and are seriously discussing how they can either replicate the ritual or undo it, or failing that, find a way to heal the Shadows so they stop threatening our worlds.”

“Knowing what happened to them at least gives them somewhere to start,” Sera volunteers.

Mac raises her beer in acknowledgement. “True. But. I’m not sure this is something reversible. And if they do reverse it, how far does that go? Does that fundamentally change the world and lower the number of Emergences again? Does it force them out of Nikolai’s world or does it somehow lock them in there? Does it heal them, or just make it so more of them can’t suddenly Emerge and start eating everyone in sight?”

“When you think about it, it sounds a little like a bad zombie movie,” Nate muses. “If the Shadows are eating people.”

“More like vampires,” Dax says.

“The point is—” Mac raises her beer, stops abruptly. “Hell if I know what the point is at this point. I’m not sure they do, either.”

“Shadows are supposed to be able to travel.” Nikolai remembers that much. “Chelsea can move between the worlds through the Split. What happens if they heal them? How are we going to get home?”

“Actually.” Sera’s gaze drifts off after speaking the one word. Trish elbows her, and Sera refocuses, one hand in the air. “Hang on, let me just get—okay, here it is. From what I found in those files we shouldn’t have access to, Shadows used to be able to move freely outside of this realm. Sigma Delta didn’t know where they went, and apparently Shadowwalkers didn’t like to talk about it. But those were normal Shadowwalkers. Whatever happened, it’s been perverted, so maybe after everything’s better, normal Shadowwalkers—like Mattie—will be able to still move between the worlds.”

“But we won’t know until it happens,” Nikolai says. He can see his chances of getting home slipping through his fingers. They might save the world, but at the same time, they might lose their ability to live there.

Seth’s hand finds his, and Nikolai holds on tightly.

“We definitely won’t know until it happens.” Mac glances at the trees just as Corbin and Drea walk back into the circle around the fire, hand in hand. “It’s all terrifying right now. The kinds of things they’re talking about involve levels of power that I’ve never seen used. I don’t know how they’ll do it. I don’t know how the government did it originally.”

“But you were involved with the project.”

Mac cranes her head to look back at Trish. “I was involved in the part where they started training me to join the military before I even knew that’s what I was going to be doing,” she says quietly. “I was involved as a soldier. A teleporting soldier whose partner was an assassin. So. No. I don’t know anything about what happened before I Emerged. And I really don’t think my dad’s going to answer questions if I go ask. I really don’t want to tell him I know more than I did. We need to keep some kind of surprise on our side.”

Cass exhales roughly. “Mine already knows I’m upset about something. He’ll think it’s all about Minnie, so that’s fine. He won’t be suspicious.”

“Why don’t we want them to know we’re coming for them?” Corbin asks. “Don’t we want to unravel this mess from the inside out?”

Mac shakes her head. “This is bigger than we can deal with right now. We need to fix the problem of the Shadowwalkers. The government’s going to be harder. But we can stop helping them and that’ll at least make a start.”

“What if something happened in my world,” Nikolai says slowly. They aren’t the same place; they’re analogs, and they’ve proven that over and over. But they are similar. “What if they can’t replicate, or unravel, this ritual because it didn’t just happen here. It happened in my world. And in the one that’s already gone. It happened across the twinned worlds and that means it has to happen across them again.”

Seth knocks into him. “Well, that’s what we’re trying to do with the Dreamscape, right?”

“Right.” That makes Nikolai more certain that the involvement of the Dreamscape is critical to whatever they’re doing. Which only makes the execution harder, trying to coordinate Dreamwalkers from both worlds—one where they are spread out and terrified, and another where they are too afraid to use their abilities to work together. It isn’t going to be simple.

“I have an idea.” Trish reaches into her pocket and drags out a piece of paper. She reads it, makes a face, and folds it back up to put away again. “Not that piece of paper. We need some blank paper, and something to write with.”

“For what?” Sera’s gaze shifts from unfocused to curious, watching Trish.

“Everyone write a wish down, toss it in the fire. Whatever you believe, just think of it being sent there when it burns,” Trish says. “Momma’s a Baptist through and through, but we used to do this even though it wasn’t exactly a Christian rite. Sometimes she’d say it smacked of Witchcraft, but right now, I think we could all do with a little magic.”

“Ten minutes,” Corbin says, before flying upwards in a flurry of black feathers. Alaric’s eagle follows him, racing through the sky.

More marshmallows disappear in the time while they’re gone, the group silent in the wake of serious discussions. Corbin drops out of the sky with Alaric, forming back into humanity with bags clutched in their hands. Alaric distributes the paper, while Corbin hands out pens.

Nikolai stares at the blank sheet, uncertain what to write. Seth slips from the chair and leans against a rock, writing something that looks more like a long letter than a simple wish.

Kit writes with his paper against Rory’s back, while Stormy kneels across the way, her paper pressed against the hard ground. Dayton walks away, tapping the pen against her thigh. Trish scribbles quickly, crumpling her paper when she’s done.

She’s the first to throw one in the fire, and she crouches close by as it burns up, ashes drifting into the sky. She rolls back on her heels when it’s gone, offering a hand for Sera to come forward.

They go one by one. Sera, then Kit and Rory, then Cass, and Dax. Nate is still writing as Alaric and Chris put their papers in. As soon as Nate’s done, he crumples his sheet of paper and throws it from a distance, flinching when it lands in the flames. Mac pops in next to the fire to set hers carefully among the flames. When they flare up, she teleports back to a safe distance to watch it burn.

Seth stands up and turns away from Nikolai, the paper hidden as he folds it neatly before dropping it into the fire.

Nikolai hasn’t even set a single word on paper yet.

He writes while Dayton returns and crouches next to Stormy, whispering before they both go to throw their papers in together.

I want to be able to go home and live with my family and grow old with Seth.

I want this world to be safe from Shadows.

I want my own world to be safe from Shadows.

I want my friends and family and myself and Seth to be happy.

I want to have a world where we don’t just survive, we can thrive.

Nikolai sets the pen aside and crumples the page roughly. He walks up slowly and grabs one of the sticky, abandoned marshmallow sticks and uses it to stab the paper. He holds it in the fire, keeping it in view while it crumbles to ash and flame.

He doesn’t know if the words go anywhere, if this does anything good. But it lightens the mood and maybe that’s what they need in that moment. Things are going to get harder again soon enough.

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#welcome to phu #welcometophu #into the split #phu twinned #twinned #its reinforcements

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countdowntillseason3 · 6 years ago

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Review and Recap : “Nega-Globby” (Spoilers Ahead)

Another R&R. I technically write these as it happens on the video so right now I look forward to this episode and I give Globby all the love! ^-^ Spoilers abound!

RECAP

We start the episode with Globby “spider-manning” around the city to Noodle Burger. Before he even gets a chance to cross the entire street he gets hit by a truck. After that happens, he does get back to Noodle Burger, where he has a job interview. The woman at Noodle Burger, Sarah, asks him to tell her apart his work experiences, he shows he can turn into a globby dinosaur, which wrecks the restaurant. He doesn’t necessarily get the job though, and while trying to reason with the lady he slips on some water into the ball pit.

After the intro we are now in Hiro’s garage, where Hiro is building a new purse for Honey Lemon. This purse has extended range and accuracy, and is essentially a Chemball Machine Gun, firing Ice Chemballs everywhere making a large pad of ice outside the garage. Globby walks by complaining about the unfortunate events that transpired at Noodle Burger before promptly slipping on the ice. Globby sees himself as a monster and Honey Lemon tries to comfort him by saying he isn’t a monster. Also cute Baymax and Globby hugging scene I love it oh my god. Hiro says he’ll talk to Aunt Cass to see if he can get Globby a job at the Lucky Cat Cafe.

At SFIT, Liv Amara is walking down the hall as Honey Lemon runs into Granville’s office to get permission to fix Globby, Granville saying yes. Liv Amara overhears this and says that this has potential.

At the Lucky Cat Cafe, Hiro and Cass talk about Globby. Hiro fabricates a story for Globby’s... globbiness. Cass agrees to let Globby work at the Lucky Cat Cafe. Meanwhile, Honey Lemon is working on a cure for the Globbiness. Karmi comes in to help and help she does and she solves the cell regeneration problem, but she has to go to class so Honey starts doing whatever she is doing, but it’s taking so long that she ends up sleeping over at SFIT. Chris comes in and before a Spider-bot detects him he impales it with his own fist before taking a bit of Globby sample and stealthily leaves.

Karmi eventually walks in and wakes up Honey and they begin the project. Hiro and Baymax walk in, Karmi and Hiro argue which ends with Hiro and Baymax leaving. Honey starts to talk to Karmi about it but is then distracted by the neutralizing working on the Globby sample.

At the Lucky Cat Cafe, Globby is... working as hard as he can (albeit he gets goo all over the food). Honey comes in and brings Globby with her back to SFIT to cure him, and they successfully do.

Meanwhile at Sycorax (I swear I never get the name right), Liv is experimenting on the Globby sample she stole for... some project. She ends up creating a sentient Glob (which I’ll start calling the Nega-Glob), and puts it in a containment cell.

At Joe’s Diner, Globby (now Dibbs) and Felony Carl talk about Dibbs now human form again. Dibbs talks about how he finds being a human boring and that being Globby made him feel special, Carl comforts him saying he is special.

At Sycorax, Chris attempts to feed the Nega-Glob, only for it to escape and take one of the eye-stalks in a tube to use as it’s eye. Liv says it’s to unstable and it is now the city’s problem.

The Nega-Glob wreaks havoc on the city, prompting the Big Hero 6 to take action. The Big Hero 6 think that the Nega-Glob is actually Globby and Honey goes to talk to him and somewhat tames the Nega-Glob. Dibbs ends up biking into the scene and everyone finally realizes the Nega-Glob is not Globby. Fred names the Nega-Glob “Nega-Globby” (Oh wow like the episode name didn’t point this one out). Dibbs yet again forgets he is not Globby and after attempting to fight Nega-Globby, he fails. The Big Hero 6 start to fight Nega-Globby. He shows to be a formidable foe against the team as he defeats most of the members. Honey tries to help but realizes her purse has been stolen, again!

Dibbs, now with the controller thing, is revealed to have stolen the purse (big surprise). He attempts to recreate the incident that turned him into Globby and successfully does so. Meanwhile, Nega-Globby is closing in on Honey while the others are incapacitated or can’t use their powers. Then Globby saves Honey Lemon from being crushed by Nega-Globby. Globby goes to fight Nega-Globby, being an epic battle of shifting chemical/physical properties between the two. It honestly becomes an anime battle between the two as it looks like they are reenacting that one scene from the My Hero Academia Season 1 Opening (you know the one). They are pretty equal matched, but Honey Lemon (now her new Bunny Purse thing) manages to get Nega-Globby to try and attack her as Globby, now in the form of a T. Rex, eats Nega-Globby.

At Joe’s Diner (well I think it’s there, I forgot like most of the restaurants there to be honest), the Big Hero 6 start to question where Nega-Globby came from, meanwhile we get a glimpse of Globby (who is being revered as a hero) and it is revealed the Nega-Globby may not have been destroyed.

REVIEW

10/10. Solid 10/10. Everything was so right in this episode I can’t stress how right everything is. I’m glad Globby is still Globby, I love him! Nega-Globby was an interesting thing, and I believe he was assimilated by Globby but might attempt to gain control of Globby later down the line (I’m sad now). I love how the episode was more Honey-centric, it’s nice seeing episodes that don’t just focus on Hiro (even if he is the protagonist). And we get a mention of “something” that Liv is planning is do. I wonder.

#big hero 6 #big hero 6 the series #bh6 #bh6 the series #big hero 6 season 2 #big hero 6 the series season 2 #bh6 season 2 #bh6 the series season 2 #big hero 6 spoilers #big hero 6 the series spoilers #bh6 spoilers #bh6 the series spoilers #nega-globby #nega globby

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tubbytomatooo · 5 years ago

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Here’s the MOTHERFUCKING TEA AIGHT?

So. I have this head cannon that I’m definitely writing not going to write but will pine over. It’s JayDick so if that doesn’t agree with you in no uncertain terms Gtfo:

Right:

1/ it’s abo with Jay as the omega and dick as the alpha because it’s my guilty pleasure okay? They have triplets and like woah they were not expecting that AT ALL.

2/ Their first born son is called Jonothan (Jonny for short. They definitely don’t do here’s Jonny jokes all the time)

- He has black hair Ofc and Jason’s green eyes but they’re darker. He’s althletic and wild and not ven Alfred can tame him.

-He spars with Jason a lot and Damian but he ain’t admit that they have fun. Dick tries to teach him to be a bendy boi but that’s in no way happening.

-he is so naughty even Jason is pulling his hair out. Bruce is encouraging it because it’s not his child.

-him and Bruce form a team of doing bad shit without Jason and dick knowing.

-inherits Jason’s loud ass.

-never shuts the fuck up.

-him and dick argue a lot which then makes him and Jason argue which is deafening. They’ve gotten complaints....

- a angry bisexual which explains a lot tbh.

3/ the second triplet. A boy, Nicholas. ( nikki or nick.) He’s so sweet and it’s crippling. He’s got those baby blues just like dick and his hair is long enough to ponytail it.

-he’s a bendy twisty boy, much to dicks joy and they practice gymnastics all the time. He’s won medals and wants to be an Olympian or a NASA scientist he doesn’t know

- him and Jonny argue... a lot. Usually ends with Jonny calling nick a pussy and then nick cries and there’s yelling all over again.

-he’s a brainy brAINY BOY. He GEEKS OUT with Tim ALL THE LIVELONG DAY. Ends up developing his sarcasm.

-always the tech guru of th household. Literally never leaves the house unless 100% necessary and all the possibility’s are accounted for.

-he’s on the spectrum. It’s a shock but no ones bothered by it. It’s just one of those things.

-it makes for terrible bathtimes though. ( usually ends with the whole fam getting in the bath with him.)

- you never know he’s there until he’s right behind you asking a question. He’s made many a Wayne jump out of their skin even Damian. Though he denies it.

-he likes to decent Cecilia’s honour by hacking into her haters social media and posting dumb stuff unlike Jonny who fights them

-the only straight one in the immediate family.

4/ last triplet but most certainly amazing. Cecilia. The only girl. She’s got those emerald eyes and black curls th at they all wish they had.

- if you think she hasn’t got Her dads, Bruce and the whole extended family wrapped around he little finger then your WRONG.

- she is a social butterfly and has too many friends.

- not afraid to cut a bitch.

-will kill you whilst looking amazing.

- her Cass, babs and Steph have girls nights.

- Jason teaches her self defence not that she needs it. She reduced a bully to crying by simply insulting him and dishing the dirt.

-she knows all the tea don’t try and deny it.

-you can’t lie to her.

- nearly always gets her own way

- a total lesbian because honestly.

- she beats both her brothers in a fight lets not joke around but if anyone hurts either of them she will be at your door with a steak knife and tea on send to all on snapchat.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#jason todd #dick grayson #richard grayson #batman #batman and robin #bruce wayne #tim drake #damian wayne #nightwing #red hood #dc comics #my ocs #fuck #im living for this #ive fallen and i cant get up #down this big as hole

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domeverett · 4 years ago

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Making The Cut. James + Cass.

Title: Making the Cut Timeframe: Sometime in the afternoon of 9.27 Tagging: @cruelboy Cassius Westbrooke and James Ashworth. Total: ~3,000 words Notes: Completed.

JAMES

James was honestly used to this sort of thing. Someone didn't make the team and felt entitled to know why. These boys, though very skilled and often competitive in impressive ways, were also entitled. They were used to being able to bully or buy their way into anything they wanted and if not? They had mom and dad come in and try a second round. Some sent their parents in on the first go round.

He had been prepared for at least one fight when he'd posted the team listing to the school bulletin board, just outside the main dining hall, where teachers sat for their meals at the faculty table. He just hadn't assumed Westbrooke would be one of them.

"As I said," James looked up from his papers, fingers slotting together over a pile of syllabi. "The decision has been made. I know that each student tries their best when they're out on the track but unfortunately there are a limited number of spots, which means not everyone will get one."

He paused, knowing compliments often softened the blow. "Yours was an excellent tryout...but there were better runners. It's that simple..." Though the intricacies of his decision weren't technically that unburdened. There was one Dom student who might not have made the cut but James assumed Cassius merely wanted to keep fit, for aesthetic reasons. He could do that on his own time. "Surely there are other physical fitness activities you could pursue....?"

CASSIUS

Cassius can be quite machiavellian when he wants to be. He’s got his preferred method for solving certain problems, but he’s smart enough to realize that a good kiss with a fist can’t solve everything. (Most things, but not all things.) He hasn’t written off the possibility that that’s what this situation needs just yet, but he’s willing to adapt to the whatever challenges Mr. Ashworth throws his way.

Cassius is invested in Cross Country. He doesn’t really care about soccer or lacrosse, though he sees their importance in keeping his demons tamed - but Cross Country is one sport that doesn’t require him to be part of a team and he is damn good at it. After the initial burst of anger that burns bright like a firecracker when the news he hasn't been picked initially drops, Cassius stops and makes a decision. He’s going to get Mr.Ashworth to change his mind.

Three seconds into talking to this man and he knows that persuasion is the poison of the night. He won’t be coy about it, nothing was ever gained without boldness but this last statement that almost makes him throw his composure out the window. This is a submissive thing, isn't it? There’s that firecracker again, threatening to go off, threatening to spark hot.

“Yeah, I'm already doing soccer and lacrosse and I’m going to fucking blow my brains out if I have to do another team sport. The other ones don’t really interest me. I want to do Cross Country.” Cassius says firmly. His gaze finds the other like a lighthouse. “You’re making a mistake,” He continues. “I made great times out there. But that’s the thing... you need at someone who can make the times and handle the stress that comes with - and at least three of the guys you picked are pussies.” Cassius states this like fact. Because it is. “What’s it going to take you to reconsider?”

And if Mr. Ashworth doesn’t reconsider, Cassius is determined to make the rest of his life at Lowell a living hell.

JAMES

James gave pause as Cassius laid out the dire nature of his self-inflicted predicament. He blinked a few times and studied the student. "Two other sports and you're aiming for a third, alongside classes?" It was true that at Lowell they pushed for excellence but the submissives were meant to focus on more of the... softer arts. Now that he knew Cassius had made two other sports he was even more concerned that he wasn't embracing his role here.

"Wouldn't you prefer more energy to... perfect the activities that you're already apart of?" James liked to work in one particular way when it came handling disagreements with students: convince the other person that what he wanted was what they wanted.

He sat back at Cassius' critique of the Dominant students. "Mr. Westbrooke, if I'm not mistaken, you've just arrived on campus, yes?" He asked. "And you're telling me you know these students very well and know how they handle stress?" He lifted his brows, almost inviting Cassius to confirm this, even though the way he'd laid out the assertion msde it clear that was impossible. "Because I have been coach of Cross Country since I began my teaching tenure here and I tend to have an ability to pick capable and competent athletes." Not a slight on Cassius but James knew the other may take it as one. "It was a close call and you would have been...a fine addition to the team, but I just don't see how your argument for reconsideration is based on more than 'I want it and I deserve it more than the ones who got it.'"

He wasn't about to reward such an argument. It was lazy. It seemed an invitation for Cassius to make a better one if he wanted to sway James for real. The Dominant could appreciate a good mental back and forth. Kept the mind sharp. "Do you see where that puts me in regard to your request?" Though, it was favorable that Cassius wanted it badly enough that he was willing to fight for it.

CASSIUS

“Yes” Cassius said, rather stiffly as he listened to the other's response. Glad this one could count. “Real kind of you to look out for me, but I know what I can handle.”

And he meant that. Cassius had spent the majority of his life looking out for only himself and Cassius would continue doing so. He really didn’t need someone who barely knew him telling him what was best for him or where his energies would be better spent. He watched the professor sit back in his chair and he settled back into his own. Cassius wanted to let out an exasperated sigh when Mr. Ashworth demanded an explanation as to how exactly he knew. There was an eye-roll, certainly not the last of the evening, but Cassius returned a steady gaze to the older man. His jaw clicked in determination. No point in lying. “I know these things because because I’ve fucked all three of them.” He said, like it hadn't meant much. It hadn't. He hadn't done them all at the same time, of course, but that would have been fun, wouldn’t it? A thought for another time and place, “or ‘knew them,’” He continued Quote, unquote, “In the biblical sense. Whatever politically correct phrasing you need in order to not write off the validity of the point here. I can confidently say from first hand they cannot handle stress.”

His eyes narrowed, gaze sharpened, though his words were the things a person would cut themselves on. Cassius leaned in, at the edge of his chair so it tipped forward slightly. He enunciated his words, a little like he was speaking to a child.

“My argument for reconsideration is based on the fact that I am better than them.” And I want it and deserve it. But that, apparently, was already a given. “I know this is about my class and I don’t know what you’re trying to prove here by protecting an archaic and regressive system. It won’t mean anything when you don’t place at regionals. Silver and bronze don’t matter, people only remember gold.”

JAMES

"It's my job to think about all students, but especially ones who I have selected to be on my team," he said confidently. He paused, cautious of his words. "It's always good to know your limits," he said, knowing the usual associations of the word.

The eyeroll. The crassness with which he spoke -- however honest -- the determination he'd made of the selections James had made. There was a part of him, somewhat dormant but ever present, that was prickling a little at the way Cassius insinuated himself into this decision. As if he knew better. As if James was mistaken. A dominant made mistakes sure, but his had been a strategic choice. He felt sound in his logic. Yet...Cassius talking back, being a little more obstinate...it wasn't the type of submissive James was used to. It reminded him of something. Almost as though a long forgotten place he had once known but rarely visited. He was catching glimpses of that place. Ghosts. Yet he couldn't quite get it to show itself to him.

"You dangle your...acceptance...as a surety of gold. You tout your talent and your grit. You seem so certain of your persecution based on your classification." James seemed to hold back just a touch of amusement. Of course he'd heard this before. It was something of a tactic, whether genuine or not, which some subs here used to get their way. There was such shame for some Dominants and such a scrambling to appear PC that they wouldn't dare to let themselves stand accused of being classist.

"No, I can see...you want this." He moved from his chair and walked around his desk to settle against it. He crossed his arms over his chest. "So, I'll give you three options. You can do what apparently hadn't crossed your mind in the first place, and ask nicely for a spot on the team." He paused. "You can ask one of those Dominants you're so sure won't get me the gold to step down so you may have their spot..." James' blues looked at the man. "Or, you can accept defeat."

In a way, James need not assert his Dominance at all in a scenario like this. It was plain for Cassius to see in the manner in which he handled the complaint. He knew this choice would not be easy for a guy like Westbrooke. It would be a true sign of character to see what he ended up choosing. Your move. He seemed to say.

CASSIUS

Cassius processed the options as they were given to him. Absofuckinglutely not, was his immediately response to the first. When had Cassius ever asked for anything nicely in his life? The second was laughable: and Cassius wanted to ask if Mr. Ashworth wanted to be responsible for a dead body. That was the only way Cassius was getting through a conversation like that with a Dom.

But the third.... the third was just downright unacceptable. Cassius wouldn’t even consider it, couldn’t even consider it. Immediately, it repelled him. Cassius stepped into this office with every intention of changing this professor’s mind and he didn’t intend to leave without it. A bitterness spread across his tongue. His lips threatened to stretch back and bare teeth, a caged animal ready for a fight. So. One or two it was.

“That’s a helluva choice.” He said slowly.

He hated this trichotomy offered to him, as if these were the only three options in the world. But that was the way of this place wasn’t it? The trichotomy of classification, the dichotomy of dominance and submission. Cassius was going to burn it all down, but that was a long con. He knew this. For now, Cassius was going to make Mr. Ashworth regret putting such an offer on this table. It was a shift in him, a simmering under the surface, like he had smoke for skin. And now, like a chameleon, he changed. Cassius’ sharp eyes, usually quick and darting, trailed slowly up to look at the other from the spot they had settled at his feet. He counted the seconds in his head — and made sure to linger just a hair too long on the Professor’s crotch. It wasn’t long, blink and you missed it. Up and up he continued till their gazes were locked. Cassius looked up at him through dark eyelashes.

In that moment, Cassius decided he wanted to haunt this man.

“But if asking you nicely is really all it’s going to take,” Cassius was all edges, but he traded them out now for poisoned honey. “Then I think you should look at the cold hard evidence presented. Look at those actual times and consider the people. I think you’ll find it the team’s best interest, in your best interest,” his eyes casually flicked to his area of interest, “to reconsider your decision, Sir.”

Your move. He replied.

JAMES

James gave a look, as though Cassius should know to expect nothing less from James than being given a choice of that caliber. And if he didn't know it yet then he did know it now. James was not one to be ruffled or trifled with. No, he'd been through dances like these before. Skirmishes of will power. Of trying to navigate and negotiate something one wanted and using nothing to bargain. He knew the tricks and there was a relative sort of ease with which he dexterously handled the other. It wasn't about classification, not really. It was an exciting grapple of minds. That's what got James in these encounters.

He'd not lost many of times against someone trying to exercise their will over him. It was partly why he enjoyed being sponsor of Debate so much. He got to test his mental muscles and exercise them regularly. Same with his use of words and handling the mental landscape. It was something he felt helped him in his study and instruction of Dominance, too. If someone was perceptive enough to see what the situation required and have the manner and will to execute it...they already had a strong foundation for Dominance.

"Ah, ah," said James. He'd noticed the look Cassius gave toward his bulge. He wasn't made uncomfortable. They were all men here. Adult men. Studied men. Let him look. He wouldn't be the first. Yet, he wouldn't be the one to touch either. James would be sure of that. "That's not what I said."

James wanted to stand in front of Cassius but he didn't. Just remained leaned against the desk with his arms crossed and blue gaze utterly comfortable. "I said you could ask nicely. What you did was suggest something to me." Did his lips curl up in the slightest smirk? Did his humor show in the near subtle arch of his brow? Did amusement color his tone? "I thought for sure you could do better than that..." he paused. "Can you?" He made it a question. He felt that boys like Cassius liked having the answer. "Would be a shame, if not."

CASSIUS

Oh this motherfucker wanted him to say ’Please.’ Now there was a foreign term for Cassius, but he was in it now. He was decided in his decision to haunt. Haunt he would.

It’s clear goading. Cassius, for all his layers and intricacies, has one very obvious button and it was clear James had found it. Looked like he was having a little too much fun pushing it too if that smirk was anything to go off. That was a good sign for Cassius. More importantly, Professor Ashworth was in no way perturbed by Cassius’ wandering gaze, which made Cassius wonder how close he could get.

He stood up, and moved to close the space between them. Till they were standing toe to toe. “Sounds like you’re looking for something very specific.” He licked his lips, grey blue eyes finding bright blue. “Kinda like you want me to beg for it.”

Fingers danced forward till they met the fabric of slacks on Professor Ashworth’s thigh.

“I’d like you to please reconsider your decision to let me onto this team, Sir.”

That nice, enough for you?

Truth be told, Cassius liked working for it. Nothing not struggled for was nothing truly earned. There was an element of fun to this, cat and mouse — though Cassius was still deciding though if James was worth the chase.

JAMES

James wasn't usually one to push like this. Only if he had a clear sense of his boundaries; but Cassius didn't seem the wilting flower type. He seemed to have just as much a backbone for this type of banter as anyone else. They were both adults though and James had set about handling Cassius, given the boy's sense of entitlement and his penchant for being bossy.

He quirked a brow as Cassius moved to stand toe to toe. Whatever he was doing James was unbothered. He was merely curious to see where Cassius would try to take this. The fingers on his thigh had James glancing down before looking back up into Cassius' eyes. His fingers gently clasped around the man's hand on his thigh and rubbed a circle over the back of it before he patted it twice and set back at Cassius' side.

"I appreciate the use of the title," said James. "And really...I can tell that must have taken something for you." James couldn't help the little lift to the corner of his mouth. He should accept the offered words. Really, they would have sufficed for anyone else. Though James wanted to see how well Cassius actually listened to direction and took to James' authority on matters such as this.

In a way this was Cassius' second try out. He may not believe this was a team sport but that didn't mean he could do whatever he wanted. As his coach Cassius would have to listen to James. Would he heed him? Would he follow direction? Even if he didn't always like it?

"But, again, that's not what I asked." James watched him. "That was another suggestion. Can you...ask me? Truly. Like you want to be on the team?" Let me hear it, he wanted to say. Let me know that this is what you want. Ask me for it. "We can take some time and revisit this conversation, if you'd like to think about it."

This wasn't an all or nothing one time deal. He wasn't a monster. Cassius could wrestle with whatever he needed to and decide if it was worth it. But James had set his terms. It was up to Cassius to meet him where he stood.

CASSIUS

Fingers circled over his skin twice, far more intimate than they had any right to be considering the resounding “no” that the gesture ultimately screamed. The pat was almost comical. Cassius let out a sound that was half scoff, half laugh.

The way he saw it, he’d given his offer. This guys loss if he wasn’t going to take it - and Cassius, as overwhelming as he was, was not the sort to force himself onto someone. People earned the punches they received without asking them for all the time, this was not the same for intimacy.

“Oh now you’re just being difficult,” Cassius all but mocked.

Still, he was no quitter. The hand that had been placed at his side clenched, still feeling the ghost of the fabric at the tips of his fingers. He supposed the process of elimination left him with no choice. He’d have to appeal to a Dom on a team. Fine. That was fine. Cassius could get away with punching one of them far easier.

With a cheeky grin, that most certainly said this was not over, Cassius turned on his heel.

“Let’s revisit it.” Cassius said, throwing the words over his shoulder as he grabbed his bag. He was already running through the team roster in his head. “Give me a second to really reflect on it, you know?”

What? Did Mr. Ashworth really think he was going to be the one to inspire personal change in Cassius? No, not even the people Cassius loved could inspire that. Yeah, the professor could just deal with it when Cassius showed up on the team next week - on his own terms.

FIN

#cruelboy #para: all #para: cassius.#para: making the cut.

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tgwltw · 7 years ago

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Are you ready?

Hi! Thank you for sending this request in!! It’s a tad bit short than what I would have liked but it was fun to write this to be honest! It gives me a lot of practice too, trying to tackle the big sister role as well as writing for Cass! Hope it’s up to your liking! Thank you so much and enjoy!

PS: those who sent in their votes, the current votes have already been updated and thank you for sending them in!

“How are you feeling?”

Cass looks away from the mirror and shrugs her shoulders. She doesn’t really know how she feels right at that moment. It’s a little bit of mix between being nervous and anxious. Maybe it’s the prospect of having to go out in a crowd of people she does not know and the expectations that follows with it.

“Nervous.” She answers stiffly, finally turning to look at you.

You smile at her answer, running your fingers through Cass’s beautiful hair, pulling it away from her face lightly. “I know how that feels.” You had been in the exact same position a few years back. Though the only major difference is that she has you to help her while back then you had no one to turn to – no one understood how lonely you had been while being pampered with make-up and different hairstyles as well as dresses. Bruce had tried and although you are greatly appreciated his efforts back then, all you wanted was some familiar company.

Which is why you are currently helping Cass instead of the team your father had set up for her. The least you could do for your sister is to help ease her nervousness just the tiniest bit. “I love your hair.” You tell her as you reach for your brush. Your hair is slightly frizzy when it’s dry so trying to tame your hair can be quite a challenge but Cass’s hair is just wonderful and you love brushing her hair.

“Do you have any particular hairstyle that you want, Cass?” You ask her once you have finished combing her hair. Cass looks at your reflection in the mirror before shaking her head.

“Any will be fine, sister.”

You nod your head as you look at Cass’s hair. She would honestly look extremely beautiful with any way you style her hair but seeing as this is her first appearance at the Wayne Gala, perhaps keeping her hair down would be the best idea. So you did just that and simply added her beautiful headband – one that you know Cass likes to use and turn her to face you.

“You are already pretty as it is and your hair is simply lovely.” You compliment her, making sure her hair is falling just the way you want it to – beautifully framing her face, accenting her lovely features.

Cass gives you a smile. She never thought she would ever be close to you – you are older than her, maybe almost around the same age as Dick or even older than him – but she has come to really like you. You carry yourself in a way that is different than most people she has met and she really respects you for that. It also helps that you are able to still be yourself in a house full of male testosterone whose detective skills are impeccable.

You grab your make-up bag and stare at the contents – wondering if you should go all out on her make-up or give her the natural make-up before deciding on the latter. You definitely did not want to overwhelm Cass. You take out all of your foundation, concealer, toner and the likes before applying all of those on Cass’s face. Cass is a wonderful listener too so you definitely did not have any problems with telling her to move her head slightly upwards and to tilt her chin downwards, etcetera.

When you are finally done putting on make-up on Cass’s face, you almost teared up at how beautiful she looks like. You have always thought Cass is beautiful but with her hair brushed and light make-up, she looks extremely gorgeous. You almost laugh to yourself at how many people will be turning their heads at your little sister tonight.

Cass is staring at her reflection in the mirror, basking in the look. She doubts she will ever experience this ever again – the only reason she agreed to going to tonight’s Gala had been because it was made to introduce her to the world – as she doesn’t plan on attending anymore but maybe, she can always ask you to help her next time.

#Cassandra Cain #cassandra cain x reader #batsis #batsis x cassandra cain #batgirl #batgirl imagines #cassandra cain imagines #dc #dc comics #batsis imagines #dc imagines #dc universe #dc reader insert #cassandra cain x reader imagines

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thelittleredheadedmusician · 7 years ago

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Family Gatherings

This is pure self indulgent fluff. Also the Phone Fic that I keep bloging about. Can be found here on my ao3! Rating: PG (Mild language) Words: 5,112 Gen

Family gatherings are not words generally associated with the individuals who make up Gotham’s vigilantes. Strategy meetings, subterfuge, infighting, assassin, spy, creepy, know it all. These are terms they are well versed in. This is why the text message that Bruce sent out at 9 am on Saturday was such a surprise.

“I request that all of you come to the manor for a family gathering at 7. Alfred will be serving dinner promptly at 7:30. What the hell is that supposed to mean Tim?!” Dick could practically hear his little brother shrugging on the other end of the phone.

“I dunno. Maybe he wants to go over his will.”

“That’s not funny and you know it.”

“C'mon Dick! Like you have a better explanation?”

Dick sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “No. Do you think everyone will come?”

“I know Steph and Harper will out of pure curiosity. Everyone else,” Tim paused and took a deep breath, releasing the rest of his sentence on the exhale, “who knows.”

Dick nodded, not really caring that he couldn’t be seen as habit was habit. “Ok. Well Damian will be, Cass for sure, Babs is going to be there cause she hates being out of the loop, Jason…” Dick trailed off, looking down at his bare feet. He’d woken to find the text blinking at him from a half dead phone screen. Knowing that he’d have seen it already too Dick immediately called Tim and had been pacing around the apartment in his pajamas with the now nearly dead cell to his ear.

“Yeah,” Tim said empathically.

“Maybe he’ll come for Alfred?” Dick tried.

“You know him better than I do.”

“You’re right. And I don’t even know why he does half the things he does. I’ve gotta charge my phone. I’ll see you later?”

Tim snorted. “Of course you do. Alright, yeah. I’m meeting up with Tam soon anyway. Bye.”

“Bye,” Dick frowned at the phone. Now that the call with Tim had ended it had returned to the group chat Bruce had sent his text in. Not a single person had replied and Bruce likely didn’t expect them to. Just that they showed up. He stuck it on a charger in the living room and went to get a shower. After breakfast Dick collapsed onto the couch. Having wrapped up a case the night before he decided to reward himself with some video games.

Dick started up Call of Duty, grabbing a controller and his headset. He smiled as he saw that both Roy and Wally were currently online. He started a game with them and as soon as he slipped the headset on he could hear Roy swearing already. “What gives, it’s like 7 or something out there. How the hell are both of you awake and playing video games?” He asked once the cursing died down.

Wally snorted as his character took out a sniper on the screen. “Linda and the kids went to visit her parents. I’ve got the house to myself for the weekend and Bart and I have been playing all night. Kid passed out about 2 hours ago.”

Dick shook his head and tried to figure out how many energy drinks the speedster must’ve downed in order to still be awake. Especially taking into account his metabolism.

“How’d you get out of going with?” Roy tossed a grenade into the building on the screen, causing the whole thing to be temporarily covered in cgi flames.

“I’m the Flash. And her parents don’t know. Plus I’m on call for the League.”

“Then how was staying up all night a good idea if you were on call?” Dick punched a complicated series of buttons that Tim had shown him, taking out the three guys on the roof and the two on the ground.

“Clark’s on monitor duty. I’m just the back up. And nobody does anything in the middle of June. It’s like common knowledge.”

The other two made noncommittal sounds of agreement as they continued to play.

“Alright, Roy what’s your excuse?” Dick tried to reload as they were ambushed from above.

“Lian had a nightmare. I just got her back to sleep about a half hour ago and now I can’t sleep. Living on the West Coast has its perks when your gaming buddies don’t get up ‘til noon and live in Jersey.”

“I don’t know which part of that I should be more offended by. The fact you think I don’t get up ‘til noon or the way you said Jersey.”

“Jersey,” the others replied in unison.

Dick scoffed and pouted, not that it did any good as his friends were in Keystone and Star respectively.

“Alright, you’re chattier than usual. What gives?” Roy asked.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” Dick sputtered.

Wally paused the game and snorted. “Dude. You’re being nosy. Even for you. Plus you only ever play Call of Duty if stuck on a case or having personal drama. We’ve known you since you were in pixie boots, doesn’t take a detective to know your quirks by this point.”

Dick groaned and put the controller down, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Bruce texted us all this morning that he’s having a ‘family gathering’,” he knew they’d hear the implied air quotes in his tone, “and that we’re all expected to be there.”

“That’s rough,” Wally told him.

“Yeah man. D'you know why?” Roy added.

“No. And I don’t even know if everyone’s gonna bother showing up. He did it in a group chat but there still hasn’t been a response from anyone. I dunno. I honestly think I’d be less stressed if he’d said there was a mass break out at Arkham and we needed to meet for assignments.”

“Ok, that’s depressing. Also the fact that breakouts don’t even phase you anymore? Like? The hell?” Wally said, still obviously on an energy drink high.

“If we start an argument about rogues we’re gonna get so off topic and be here forever,” Dick shot back.

Grumbling could be heard from Wally but Dick was satisfied that his friend wouldn’t say anything.

“Lemme guess. You’re worried about Jason. You think cause Bruce asked you guys to come he’s not gonna bother,” Roy speculated.

“Pretty much,” Dick sighed. “Have you heard from him recently?”

“Sorry man. Last I heard he was running around with that new team of his. I think he’s still a little pissed I rejoined the Titans,” Roy replied.

“Yeah. Ok. Thanks.”

“Not a problem. Whine at us anytime, that’s what friends are for,” Dick could hear the smirk Roy was giving him.

“That and getting drunk at dive bars while listening to crappy cover bands together,” Wally chimed in.

Dick burst out laughing at that. “You can’t even get drunk!”

“So? Doesn’t mean I can’t go with!” Wally sounded wounded but Roy didn’t care about offending the other redhead and Dick knew his friend was about ready to crash and wasn’t going to remember much of this conversation anyway.

“Go to sleep West,” Roy got out between snorts.

“Seriously dude. Way too many red bulls.”

Wally grumbled and finally said, “Fine. Whatever. Text bout what happens,” before signing off.

“So do you think he’ll show?” Roy asked once he caught his breath.

“I honestly don’t know. As far as I’ve heard none of us have done anything to particularly piss him off recently. Not even Bruce. And it was a request, granted he’s going to just expect us all to be there but the text at least made it sound optional. And it said Alfred would be there which is always a plus for Jay.”

“Well good luck and keep me in the loop. I’m always willing to act as an outside opinion on your family’s drama,” Roy told him.

Dick chuckled. “That’s just because it makes your family drama look tame.”

“You bet! We made be loud and extremely dysfunctional but at least we haven’t tried to kill each other.”

“You make that sound like it happens a lot,” Dick whined.

“Dude.”

“Ok, ok. I’ll text you later.” Dick closed the game and pulled his headset off. Tossing it onto the coffee table he laid down on the couch. He was still unsure about what was going to happen later that night but he at least felt better knowing that he had friends who would let him vent afterward.

Dick swung his legs off the couch and stood in one fluid motion. He grabbed his phone, headphones, and keys and decided to go for a jog. It was a nice day, Gotham wasn’t too busy on a Saturday in the early afternoon, maybe he could have a normal jog for once. He returned to his apartment 20 minutes later after avoiding no less than six paparazzi, being cat called about ten times, and literally running into Helena. She had been out for a jog too and while he was trying to lose a particularly insistent cameraman they had both rounded the corner at the same time going in opposite directions. She had not been happy, yelling something about how he should watch where he’s going and “Dammit Grayson! That hurt!” As well as a mix of fairly creative curses in Italian.

Dick had offered to make it up to her but she just waved him off. Saying “You and Barbara are obviously both distracted. Bruce has got you ex sidekicks seriously messed up with these mind games. I’ll just send you Zinda and my next bar tab.” Dick had felt himself visibly pale at that and she had laughed and said not to worry before continuing on her way.

Dick was still pondering over her mention that Babs was distracted too. Obviously Bruce’s text was having some effect on her that Helena had mentioned it. Normally, the Birds were close knit and never talked about personal business with the rest of Gotham’s heroes. Especially not the personal business of Oracle their fearless leader.

Flopping back down on his couch Dick fished his phone out of his pocket. He tapped out a quick text to Babs and hit send, hopping something hadn’t suddenly sprung up that needed her attention. Luckily that wasn’t the case as her response was practically immediate.

~What’s up boy wonder? Helena said you ran into her and that you were super frazzled.

~I was wondering if you had heard anything about what Bruce wants us for tonight.

Her response to that took a bit longer and her words were obviously a bit more measured.

~No, I haven’t heard a thing. Why? Have you?

~No. I talked to Tim this morning and he says that he’s in the dark too. It’s obviously nothing serious but it’s been bugging me all day.

Her response to that was more relaxed. If he had to guess he’d say she had thought he knew something she didn’t, and Dick knew that she hated that.

~Me too! I can’t figure out what it is he could possibly want to talk about that we ALL need to be there. I mean, you boys and Cass yeah. Me, Steph, & Harper? Idk. Have you heard from Damian or Jason at all?

~No. I was going to head over in a bit to bug D though. Nothing on Jay.

~Yeah, same here. I kinda hope he comes at least for Alfred but…

~I was thinking the same thing Babs.

~Oh well. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I’ll talk to ya later pixie boots.

~You’re one to talk miss go-go.

Her response was simply the eye roll emoji and Dick snorted as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. He let his head fall against the back of the couch and fell into a light doze. He woke from his brief nap and patted his shorts for his phone. There were no new messages from Babs, Bruce, Tim or anyone else. No missed calls or alien invasions either. The time told him he ought to get ready and head to the manor if he wanted to pump Damian for information. As well as just hang out with his youngest brother.

Once dressed in jeans and a clean t-shirt Dick headed to garage that occupied the basement of his apartment building. Shrugging on a leather jacket and fastening his helmet he gave the bike’s engine a good rev before driving up the ramp and onto the streets of Gotham.

Knowing that the cops would definitely try and stop Dick Grayson for speeding he made sure to restrain himself from weaving in and out of traffic, especially because Nightwing would be pushing the motorcycle through its paces soon enough. Sitting in Gotham wasn’t enjoyable but being able to fly up the manor’s long gravel drive sure made up for it. He pulled in next to Steph’s purple Mini Cooper, glad to see the Compact was holding up for her. He cut the engine and took his helmet off, giving his head a shake to undo any helmet hair.

Bounding up the steps he swung the over large front door open with a shout of “Hello? Anybody actually above ground?”

The sound of running feet could be heard coming from somewhere on the second floor as Dick put his jacket and helmet on the coat rack. He turned just as he heard a sharp “-tt-” coming from the balcony at the top of the steps. Damian stood there with his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, the twitch of his lips betrayed his annoyed facade. “Must you be so abhorrently loud, Grayson?”

“Must you be using SAT vocab at such a young age?” Dick shot back with a grin.

Damian rolled his eyes but his arms fell to his sides and his mouth finally turned up into a smile. “Brown and Row have coerced Cassandra into assisting in appropriating my room, the extra person on my side would be helpful.”

Dick chuckled, “Whatever you say Dami.” He ran up the stairs and followed Damian down the hall to his room. Sure enough the three girls were spread over the plush carpeting, nail polish bottles and other manicure supplies between them.

Damian crossed the room and sat himself on his bed next to Titus and Alfred the cat. The three watched the teen girls from their perch, Damian with minor annoyance, Titus with amusement, and Alfred with the type of utter nonchalance only achieved by felines. The girls glanced up at Dick who had paused in the doorway. Cass’s face immediately lit up and she fluidly rose to her feet and came over to wrap her arms around his neck. Dick returned the hug as she whispered a warm “Hi” in his ear.

“Hey Cass,” he murmured back. She let go and skipped back to the others. Harper gave him a small, two-fingered salute while Steph waved with a large smile. “How long have you been here?”

“Too long,” Damian instantly grumbled.

Harper snorted and Steph nearly doubled over in a fit of giggles. Cass quirked an eyebrow at her little brother before calmly sticking her tongue out at him. “We came for brunch with Cass as we had originally planned and just stayed since we all received the super mysterious text,” Steph told him once she had recovered from her laughter, which had doubled thanks to Cass’s antics.

Dick nodded in response and sat himself down on the floor next to them. Damian gave a short “-tt- Traitor.” He did however edge closer to the end of the bed where he could participate in their conversation.

Dick picked up a bottle of forest green polish and examined it. Cass held out her left hand to him, the fingers of which had been painted, to show him the color. He nodded and gestured that she let him do her other hand. Cass turned to face him as Dick shook the bottle. “So have you guys heard anything about tonight?”

“I wish,” Harper said with a slight huff. “He just kinda grumbled and bolted when we asked.”

“Seriously. We were having our lovely quasi weekly brunch and chatting with Alfred and chasing away this gremlin,” she waved her bright yellow nails at Damian who furrowed his brows indignantly. “All of a sudden, Mr I-am-the-night-and-cannot-properly-socialize-without-being-forced-by-my-over-energetic-ex-sidekick-or-alien-and-amazon-besties walks in-”

Dick nearly choked as a laugh burst out of his mouth, interrupting Steph.

“Can I help you?” She deadpanned with a raised brow.

“I’m good. Just, that’s a new one. Keep going.”

Steph sniffed and flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “As I was saying. Bruce walks in and kinda blinks at all of us sitting in his kitchen. Using his surprise to our advantage Harper courageously seized the moment and asked him what exactly this family gathering will entail tonight. He froze, looking exactly like a cat-sized crime alley rat in the batmobile’s headlights, while Cass jumped up to block his exit. I immediately jumped to add my assistance by asking if this means that Harper, Duke, and myself are technically family too at this point. He just blinked, grabbed a muffin, said something highly unintelligible, and beat a hasty retreat.” Steph gave a sharp nod before turning back to her nails.

Dick had to stop doing Cass’s nails as he was trying too hard on not laughing to keep his hand steady. She swatted at him before rolling her eyes and turning to Damian. “Come,” she said, handing him the nail polish. Damian blinked but skootched to the floor next to Cass and diligently began painting her nails.

Dick wiped at his eyes, trying to remember why he had been so against Steph being Batgirl when the two so easily amused each other. “So we’ve got nothing?” he finally asked.

“Nope,” Cass said, admiring Damian’s handiwork.

Harper tossed a bottle of matte black at the youngest Robin and waved her hand toward Dick. Damian blinked but began shaking the bottle and moved to sit in front of Dick. With a shrug he gave his little brother his hand to be painted. “We tracked down Duke then and asked him what he knew. Nada. Honestly we were kinda hoping you’d bring some info with you,” Harper added.

“I’ve got nothing,” he told them with a shrug. “Neither do Tim or Babs.”

“Have you tried contacting Todd?” Damian looked up from Dick’s hand.

“No. He threatened to have baby ducks imprint on me if I called him again.” Damian nodded sagely at that.

“I’m sorry, what?” Harper’s head and eyebrows had shot up.

“He’s been doing that lately. Something about how ‘we all have a death wish but we’ll take care of cute baby animals’ or something,” Steph said, using a poor imitation of Jason’s voice as she acted out his threat.

“You’re kidding?” Harper obviously didn’t believe them.

Cass just shook her head gravely. “No. And baby ducks? No patrol for months.”

“Plus they’re so darn cute like how could you not want to love them?” Steph said in a rush.

“Brown is correct. Also, it is entirely within Todd’s skill set to get them to imprint on one of us.” Damian looked at Harper seriously before turning back to apply another coat to Dick’s nails.

Harper blinked at them before narrowing her eyes, “If you guys are shitting me right now I swear…”

“Scouts honor!” Dick called and held up the three-finger salute.

Damian batted at his hand. “I swear Grayson if I have to redo this,” he grumbled.

“C’mere,” Steph tugged on Damian’s arm and held up a dark shimmering blue. He nodded and allowed her to begin painting.

“So do we have any ideas at least? I know you guys aren’t the type to just let something go,” Dick watched the others.

Cass shot him a smirk. “Understatement.”

There was a knock on the door frame and they all looked up to see Tim and a rather unsure looking Duke standing there. “Alfred told us that you were all up here. Mind if we come in?”

Damian sniffed, “It’s not like my opinion matters at this point.”

“I’m going to take that as a yes…” Tim walked in and took a seat next to Steph.

She squinted at him before leaning forward to search through the pile of small glass bottles. She found whatever one she was looking for and held it up triumphantly. “Maroon?” She asked Tim, waving it just in front of his nose. Tim shrugged and let her pull his hands towards him.

Duke sat down cautiously next to Dick. “So do they always do your nails or…?”

Dick smiled at him. “We don’t really get a say in the matter. Cass just paints them when you fall asleep if you say no.” The girl in question waggled her brows and grinned.

“What about Bruce’s?” Duke asked as he watched Harper shifting through the pile, holding colors up for Cass to consider.

“Ballet Slipper. Once a month,” Cass showed Duke the light pink color. His eyes widened in disbelief and Dick couldn’t help but laugh. Finally, Harper held up a pale orange that both Cass and Dick nodded at. She crawled towards Duke and pulled his hands onto her lap.

“So ideas regarding our impending doom?” Dick asked.

“Like I told you before, I think it’s a reading of his will. He even texted Kate and with the exception of Damian she’s his only living blood relative,” Tim said, peering over the top of Steph’s head.

“Damn Timbo. Way to be morbid. Also, why would I be here if that were the case seeing a how I am legally deceased.” They all whipped their heads to see Jason leaning in the doorway, a smirk on his lips and a nasty glint in his eye. He sauntered in and plopped himself down between Steph and Cass. “Give me the most obnoxious color you have,” he challenged.

“How bout this?” Harper wiggled her own bright metallic pink at him.

Jason scrunched up his nose with a “nah.”

Dick rummaged around in the pile before pulling out a glitter gold. He threw it to Jason who caught it and beamed. “Why thank you Dickie-bird.”

“So, uh, why did you come then?” Duke asked.

Jason shrugged and began to paint his own nails. “You know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” Duke finished the expression.

Jason gave the other boy a Cheshire smile. “I knew I liked you.” He then continued to add layers of glitter. They all just stared in shock for a few seconds. Jason looked up and his eyes skipped past them as he smiled. “Hey there Barbie. This Batgirl is free for manicure giving,” he said pointing to Cass.

Dick turned to see Babs just outside the door. Her expression was amused but the set of her mouth was definitely her trying to look annoyed. With an eye roll she wheeled herself into the room. “I thought we were supposed to be here for seven. Why is it that we all managed to get here just under three hours earlier?”

Dick pushed himself back up onto the bed so that he would be eye level with Barbara as the others offered up a jumble of explanations. “Paranoia” “Fear of the unknown” “Intrigue” and “Who the hell knows” were the few Dick could make out.

He mumbled “Slow day at the office” and caused Babs to crack up.

“That it is,” she told him with a smile. Cass held up a dark purple that Babs nodded at and before she could get up Dick grabbed the bottle. He turned to Babs and motioned for her hand. They spent the rest of the time leading up to the big meeting sitting in a circle in Damian’s room with painted nails and the animals now nudging for attention.

That was exactly how Bruce and Kate found them when they went looking for them. Dick had seen them coming up the hall and gave a quick jut of his chin to acknowledge them. They had stopped short of coming in though, Kate wearing a huge smile and Bruce his more subdued but still genuine lip twitch.

They stood there for a few seconds, watching as Steph and Jason fell against each other in a fit of giggles. Cass had taken the tiny hair rubber bands and was using them to give Damian braids. Duke and Tim were engaged in a detailed discussion of Lord of the Rings and Harper was letting Babs style her short blue hair. All in all they looked like an average, happy family.

Bruce cleared his throat and they all turned to see him and Kate. Cass leapt to her feet and hopped over the legs of everyone else to go give Bruce a hug. Dick couldn’t help but smile because the hug was obviously more forceful than the one she had given him. Or Bruce hadn’t been expecting it as he had swayed slightly when she had jumped up to wrap her arms around his neck. Kate laughed and ruffled Cass’s hair.

Once Cass released him Bruce attempted to recover by smoothing out the wrinkles in his polo shirt. Dick and the others simply waited, knowing that he would speak when ready. He looked up and gave another small smile. “Thank you all for coming. Kate has… explained to me that having monthly gatherings might help you all with your stress levels and, ah, work on interpersonal relations.”

Kate rolled her eyes and give him a sharp jab in the side courtesy of her elbow. Bruce shot her a wounded look that Dick had to try very hard not to laugh at but his cousin ignored it. “What the stick in the mud is trying to say is that we’re having a game night because you all need a morale boost. Now c’mon, Alfred’s got dinner ready.”

With that Kate turned on her heel and marched back down the hall. Bruce gave a sharp nod before following her in a hasty retreat. They all looked around at each other in a stunned silence. Dick pinched himself for good measure, this wouldn’t be the weirdest dream he’d ever had but it was still good to rule out the possibility.

“What the actual, ever-loving fuck?” Jason finally said.

“What he said,” Harper pointed at Jason, eyes wide.

“Grayson, you have the most experience with Father and his moods. What could this be about?” Damian looked up at him from the carpet.

Dick shrugged and shook his head. “I’m honestly as lost as you are. Maybe we should go eat and, I don’t know, enjoy it?”

They all looked much too suspicious to actually enjoy anything but Dick dutifully herded them towards the dining room. Tim hung back until he had fallen in step with Dick. “You don’t actually think he wants us to play monopoly with him or something?” The younger man asked.

“I really don’t know Tim. Kate’s been getting him to actually be Bruce rather than Brucie or Batman lately and this is obviously all her.”

Tim snorted, “Ya think?”

Dick ruffled Tim’s hair and gained a rather interesting hand flail and cat like yowling combination in protest. Finger combing his hair back into position Tim sent him a glare. “I think we should trust Kate on this one and see what happens. Also, you either need a haircut or one of those ponytails Cass had.”

Tim’s glare turned up to full on bat and had Dick not known the kid, or been just about anyone else, he probably would’ve run in fear. As it was he could handle a few dirty looks from Tim.

Dinner was delicious, as everything Alfred made was. The conversation was semi-normal too. Steph complaining about classes, Harper talking about her work at the clinic, Dick told them about his run in with Helena that Babs then added the other half of the story to. No one made a single death threat, no food or utensils were thrown, and all insults were good natured teasing. For a second Dick thought he fell into a parallel world.

That feeling only got worse as Alfred chased them to the living room while he cleaned up. Jason stayed to help and the butler begrudgingly let him. The two joined the others soon enough and they began an intense game of Cards Against Humanity. Alfred and Babs soon took the lead, surprising everyone except maybe Alfred himself.

Bruce came in dead last, only earning that position by having a single less card than Damian. Steph and Jason tied for second and in a surprise twist Cass won. Kate was still cackling at some of the combinations that had won and Babs was telling her she could send the security footage to her later. They played well into the night and Barbara contacted the Birds to patrol as Bruce indicated that the assembled vigilantes were not leaving anytime soon. By the wee hours of the morning they had all stumbled upstairs to their respective bedrooms with the exception of Kate, Bruce, Alfred, and Dick himself.

He had stretched out on the floor watching as Kate slowly took over the sofa and Bruce was forced to go claim his recliner. Alfred chuckled from the love seat, a late-night cup of tea in hand.

“So how do you think it went, chum?” Bruce asked him once he had settled.

Dick shrugged, feeling his shoulders push against the carpet. “You had us all really worried. Tim was convinced that you were going to read us your will.”

Bruce snorted, Kate cracked up and sat up to be able to look down at Dick. “You’re kidding,” she accused.

Dick smirked, “I wish.”

They all laughed and once it had died down Alfred said, “Well you do have a tendency to have the whole family over only in the case of emergencies, Master Bruce.”

That received a small “Hnnh.”

“He’s right. I was telling Roy and Wally that I would’ve been less worried if it had been an Arkham breakout.”

Bruce shot him a wounded look before frowning at a point just above the fireplace. “I want to try and change that,” he finally said.

“If it helps I think this was a really good start. Monthly family game nights definitely are a thing normal people do. And I had fun, I think the others did too. Even Jason,” Dick told him candidly. Bruce nodded, a small smile forming. “Just next time don’t call it a family gathering. You scared the crap out of all of us.”

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the--starless-saint · 4 years ago

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Omg you are so right about the losing power thing. Cauldron forbid ANYONE to be more powerful than rhysand (or feyre). It's like, this is Nesta's story but it still revolves around Rhysand and Feyre. Even the glory of surviving the blood rite is overshadowed by Feyre giving birth, which is itself a problem that was forced to be there for Nesta's "redemption".

I also agree that Feyre just wanted Nesta to act like everything is perfect. After all, everything's perfect for Feyre so why not Nesta? She had one year and that's clearly such a long time to Feyre. Her plan honestly only worked because Cassian was there, and she got lucky that training and library shelving suited Nesta. Without Cassian, Nesta wouldn't have given a shit. Yeah Nesta doesn't have much experiences with bfs either which is quite problematic, since Cassian has tons of experience in relationships but Nesta doesn't have any (the Tomas one is basically nothing). I agree with you that that's a power imbalance. Although like ig from what i'm seeing, I'd prefer the Nessian relationship to the Feysand one, that's more problematic the more I read into it.

I honestly don't remember what happened in the first three books but as you said, it's problematic that cassian tried to intimidate her. But at the same time, he's the general so maybe it's his job? Or like he wasn't sure how to react around Nesta and Nesta really wasn't taking any shit or being conventionally pleasant. Now i'm pulling shit out without context here because I honestly CANNOT remember wtf happened, so sorry about that! I loved it when Nesta challenges Rhysand because she's literally the only one who doesn't worship him and Feyre, which i think is impt in any relationship or working team. I hate that Maas tamed Nesta. I really really hate that fact especially when she made her powerless in the end to SOLVE A PROBLEM THAT WAS FEYSAND'S OWN MAKING AND CAN BE EASILY RESOLVED RIGHT FROM THE START LIKE WHAT THE FUCK but maybe abortion is too taboo for Maas??? It's like those embryoes stuck in the fallopian tube, abortion is the only way to save the mother or both gonna die.

The training thing, might be because for people with trauma or therapy, they are often encouraged to like move, to exercise and stuff. But I wish that the exercise didn't take the form of training, and the Valkyrie, while extremely cool and really shows Nesta's strength, is like, trying to make Nesta the warrior complement/companion of Cassian. Both warriors to serve rhys. Which i also have issue with. Doesn't help that Cass's ex is a Valkyrie as well so wtf?

Look, you gotta understand that I actually want to ship N/essian. It would make my life so much more fulfilling because I would probably be satisfied with the ending of acosf.

However, I just can’t bring myself to. In my opinion, this ship was kinda okay at the beginning but is now just outright toxic. I don’t know why, but I get this vibe that it’s more about shoving Nesta into the ic and not about her actual character.

Maybe it’s just because I have this picture of Nesta in my head, which is obviously the right one as I would like to add, but it just does not sit right with me that Nesta was the one to apologise for every little thing and even for situations SHE should have received an apology.

But maybe I‘m just biased. But I think that Cassian will never really be... on the same... level? as Nesta. He‘s always the one to receive orders, he‘s at the bottom in the ic hierarchy and all, and Nesta is the one who is so queenly.

I just feel like they could never have a relationship where they’re in the same positions of power. Therefore it’s either going to be a situation where Cassian drags Nesta down to him, or Nesta drags Cassian up to her, which wouldn’t be healthy for either of them.

Idk, this was just my perception. But I know a lot of people love this ship, and I don’t mean any hate against n/essian shippers.

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commanderlurker · 8 years ago

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Monday

I wrote out that office au...

3,300 words of first person stream of consciousness. Get in.

Fucking shit balls, why is Monday a thing. Damn, gotta go to bed earlier. Can’t be feeling like this every morning. And why is this lift always so slow. Jesus ascended to Heaven faster than this.

“Good morning.”

“Oh, hey Cassandra. How are--” Right fine. Take the stairs. Like always. She’ll beat me up there anyway. Come on it’s going to be lunch time before--

*ding*

Right. Thank you.

Ah, and here we are. Look at this glorious office. All filled with desks and the desks filled with drones. Not yet though. Looks like I’m the only one here. Oh, no there’s Varric.

“Morning, Lou!”

“Morning, Varric!” Fuck I love Varric. Only reason I stay here, to be honest. Always with a smile on his face. He fucking loves life. Glad someone does. Jesus, I need a coffee. Mail first. Gotta open all that mail.

Shit. Look at it all. Thought it was crazy that we had a whole room dedicated to mail at first, but turns out there’s a lot. All forms that’ve been taped and glued and stuck together with who knows what. Mondays are the worst. All that mail from Saturday. God. At least Bull’s on Monday mail. Yeah.

Cool, cool. Leliana’s at the head of the table, like always. Doesn't look like she wants to stab someone so that’s good. All the usuals. Sera, Vivienne, Blackwall, Cassandra, and-- no Bull. Where’s Bull? Shit. The highlight of my fucking day. God. Should I ask? No. Don’t want to seem desperate. Just open the fucking mail.

There’s so much of it. Vivienne’s got the best staple puller too. Damnit. Should’ve taken the stairs, then I’d’ve gotten here sooner.

“How’d your tree chopping go, Blackwall?” Trust Sera to be chatty.

Fucking weekend talk.

“Good.” Nice. To the point. I knew there was a reason I liked Blackwall. Weird name though. Never have figured that one out.

“You… got it chopped down then?” Go Sera, keep chipping away at him.

“Yes.”

“I bet you’ve got a big chainsaw. Woof!” Sera’s the fucking best. Little loopy, but who isn’t after working here for more than a week.

“It is quite big, yes.” Ooh, got more than a word out of him. Good work, Sera.

“How many inches is the bar?” Why Cassandra, I’ve never heard your interest be piqued quite like that before.

“Twenty.” Yeah, okay, Blackwall, no need to sound so impressed. “How big’s yours?”

“Twenty three.” Yeah, go Cass!

“Are we still talking about chainsaws?” Sera. Honestly. Doesn’t think before she speaks.

Oh, and look who the cat dragged in. Solas. Late as usual with his triple shot double large pumpkin spice latte macchiato. Maybe if he didn’t get that fucking coffee every morning he’d be on time. “Good morning all. I’m replacing Bull.”

“Is he sick?” Thank you, Leliana, for asking the question. “He should text me if he’s going to be sick.”

“He texted me.”

“And me.” Fuck, even Blackwall has his number? Am I the only one who doesn’t? How do I get it?

“He’s not sick. He’s got a big pay run and it needs to be done by lunch time. That’s all.” Solas. Such a martyr. Bless you. Wait. Are those new glasses?

“Are those new glasses, Solas?”

Oh he does have a wonderful smile. “Yes, got them on Saturday. I’m glad you noticed.” Aw. My heart. Fucking hot, too. DILF. Is he a dad? Kinda don’t want to think about that...

“Chop chop. This mail won’t open itself.” Leliana. Quite the taskmaster.

Oh my god my I’m going to get RSI from opening all this mail. Ew and there’s an unidentified brown smudge on this form. Oh god. Oh god it smells. Get it away. Shit. Like, probably actually. Urg. People. Why.

Looks like Sera’s turning it into a race. She’s got the smallest pile. Maybe she’d have a bigger pile if she was more careful. So many forms torn! She is the reason for our sellotape budget blowout. Urg. Why do I care about budgets?

Oh thank god. It’s all done. Only took an hour. That means there’s only an hour till morning tea time. Shit. So many forms. And joy of joys I get to process them. Not all, thank fuck. I’d be here for days, otherwise. Days. Leliana’s got to divvy them up. I hope I don’t get that brown smeared one.

Right. Time to turn on the computer. While that’s warming up, I might just go get that coffee. Go via Bull’s desk. Just to say hi. Maybe ask if he wants a coffee too. You know, ‘cause he’s doing that big pay run. Oh no. Oh, Jesus wept. Look at him. He’s wearing that baby pink shirt. Fucking love that shirt. And he’s got his sleeves rolled up. Shit. Just look at those forearms. So… muscley. And those biceps…

“Hey, Lou. How’s it going?”

Shit. Was I staring? Did he catch me staring? Fuck. Fuck, come on, say something. Anything. “Bill, good morning.” Bill? Who the fuck calls him Bill? Yeah, sure, that is his name but no one fucking calls him Bill. “Bull. Morning. Got a big pay run, Solas said. Coffee?” Smooth. Real smooth. Christ. He’s never going to fuck me against the photocopier now.

“Sure, yeah. That’d be great, thanks.” Oh but that smile.

“Cool. You’re four sugars, right?”

“Just three, now. I’m pretty sweet already.” Oh my god. Could he be any more adorable. But fuck, Lou, stop laughing. It wasn’t that funny. And stop looking at him. Go make the fucking coffee before you melt onto the floor.

Right. Tea room. Cups. Cups cups cu--my cup’s not here. Some cunt has taken my cup. Who was it? I bet it was Sera. That little fucking--how many times do I have to tell her not to take my fucking cup.

Breathe, Lou. Breathe. Yeah. That’s good. It’s just a cup. Just a cup. You don’t want to turn into one of those people who writes passive aggressive notes about washing up after yourself and treating the workplace like you would your own home. Ha! Have you seen my home? You’d be lucky to get to the sink without drowning in pizza boxes.

Right. And the coffee machine’s fucked. Great. No fucking note on it either. All I want is a fucking coffee! Why God! Why me? Why have you forsaken me in my hour of need?

Jesus, Lou. Pick yourself off the floor. You know this carpet never gets cleaned. Go find Josephine, tell her it’s broken. And think of the positive. The more time you spend fucking about, the less time you’re actually working. But you’re still rolling in that dough. Aw, yeah. Money for free.

Oh, why does Josephine always look so good? How does she do it? I’m such a fucking mess.

“Hey, Josephine? I don’t know if you know already but I think the coffee machine is broken? It’s kinda just dribbling out water? And it sounds like there’s a couple of cats in there having a fight? Ha!”

Oh. The sweet tight lipped smile. Should’ve checked my emails first. Damnit. “Yes. It is broken. I have called maintenance but they won’t be able to look at it until the afternoon, I am afraid. There is the kettle, though, and a large selection of teas and instant coffees.”

Instant coffee? I can’t make Bull instant coffee! What am I, a heathen? “Thanks, cheers. No worries.” Right. Plan B. Real coffee.

Lift or stairs? Okay, fine. Stairs. But only going down. Heh. Going down. God. I need a new job.

Nice morning out. Better than first thing. And thank the Lord for this little hole in the wall coffee shop.

“Yeah?” Customer service could do with some improvement.

“Yeah, can I have two large capuchinos, one with three sugars. Please. Thank you.”

“Nine fifty.” Jesus Christ. I gotta stop doing this. Gotta stop eating all that pizza and buying these coffees. How am I ever going to save up enough to go travelling if I keep spending all my fucking money on junk.

“Well, look who it is.” Dorian. Why does he look so good. God. “Two coffees, hmm? Must be Monday.” So suave. So sexy. So.... gay.

“Ha, well, you know. It’s like that!” He’s not going to fuck you, Lou. You do not need to stammer around him.

“How’s your workload at the moment? Just sing out if you need a hand. I’m not too busy at the moment. Between runs. Plus I’ve managed to tame all my wild providers so they actually submit their invoices on time. Only took two years.”

“Lucky you! If only mine were that well behaved. But I’m looking okay at the moment, thanks.”

Shit. His coffee’s ready and he’s waiting around for me. I should tell him to keep going.

“No need to wait--”

“Two large capuchinos one with too much sugar.” Christ, can that woman only talk in one tone?

Oh no. Dorian’s smirking at me. Don’t blush. Do not blush. “Got one for Bull, hmm?”

I said, do not blush. “Yeah. He’s got a big pay run due. Thought he could use a little caffeine.”

What does that look mean? Shit, I hope he’s not on to me. Fuck. But I know he’s slept with Bull. I just know it. Lucky fucking bastard. Maybe I should ask for pointers on how to seduce the guy. A little sexy pouting? Barbed yet friendly insults? Don’t be fucking stupid. Defleft. Distract. “Have a good weekend?”

There. That’ll keep him going until--Christ. Back already. Oh and we’re taking the lift. Thank the baby Jesus Lord in Heaven. Man after my own heart.

“See you soon, Lou.”

“Cheers.” Hard to wave with two coffees. Doubt fisting. Heh.

And there’s Bull. In all his glory. “Hey, coffee machine is borked. Had to go down stairs.”

“Ah, thanks Lou, but you didn’t need to go get the good stuff for me.”

“Sure I did!”

“Nah. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. On the house.” Such a generous house, too. Fuck. This man is going to bankrupt me.

“Well I’ll get the next one, okay?”

As in a date? A coffee date? Don’t get your fucking hopes up, Lou. Just go back to your desk and do some fucking work.

Right. What’s my password? Not that. Or that. Try it with a four at the end… yes. In.

Oh my god. So many emails. And this coffee is awful. Worse than awful. It’s barely drinkable. Fuck, I hope Bull’s isn’t this bad. Maybe that’s why he has all those sugars. Gotta choke it down though. Can’t be wasting that money.

Fuck. This work is so boring. Only fifteen minutes to morning tea. What did I bring? Right. A boiled egg. Yay me. But Lou, think of the protein. You wanna get ripped like Cassandra then you need protein. Or something. I don’t fucking know. Okay. Get some work done. Process some forms. Yeah! I got this! I’m doing great! I’m on a roll! Shit, this is easy. I should totally not quit. This job is great.

“Lou, morning tea?”

“You read my mind, Blackwall.”

Tea room tea room tea room. Too many fucking people. And the kettle’s surrounded. Shit. I can’t be fucked getting a tea. Gotta get a plate for my egg shell though. Excuse me, coming through. Thank you. And Bull’s not here. Fuck. That pay run must be massive. And the only seat left is next to Vivienne. She can smell fear. I know it. Do not sweat, Lou. Do. Not. Sweat.

“Morning, Vivienne.”

“Lou, my dear, you must stop gaming all hours of the night. You look dreadful.”

“Thanks!” Yeah, that’s it. Hit in with the false positivity. That’ll show her. She looks so good. Flawless skin. That no-makeup-makeup look. She could make a sack look amazing.

Right. No Bull. Not the end of the world. I’m just going to eat my egg quietly and--Sera. Sera has my fucking cup. I fucking knew it. Don’t say anything Lou. Remember what we said before? Breathe. Yeah, that’s it. Just breathe.

God. The conversation is about Blackwall’s chainsawing again. You’d think he owned a whole forest from the amount of time he spends chainsawing. Is anyone going to ask about my weekend? Anyone interested in how I did a level twenty raid all on my own? And not because I have no friends? Just because? For the fun of it? Anyone going to ask how many pizzas I ate? No? Okay.

Fifteen minutes goes so fast. Back to work. And what the shit is this? Bull coming in now? God damn I hate Mondays.

Urg. The time between morning tea and lunch goes so slowly. God. Right. I’ll break it up with a few toilet stops. Might do a few laps of the office with a piece of paper, make it look like I’m busy. Process five forms first. Then pee. Then another ten. Then get some water. Gotta have a routine. A system. Systems are good.

Oh my god. How is it only eleven? Feels like three. Fuck. Three more forms then I’ll let myself go wander past Bull’s desk.

Okay. Lunch time. Hallelujah. Did I bring anything? No. Of course not. Guess I’ll need to buy something. That’s another eight bucks wasted. For fuck’s sake, Lou. You’re going to buy a loaf of bread on your way home and make some fucking sandwiches, okay? I’m serious. Yeah. We’re having a serious talk now. You and me. We gotta make some changes, okay? Starting… tonight.

This pie is pretty good! Damn I love me a pie. Ah, but here’s the man who will make me feel guilty for enjoying this delicious pastry lined heart attack. Fucking Dorian with his fucking salads. How does he have time to make them? Does he have time machine that gives him an extra two hours in the morning or some shit? And he’s judging me. Christ. We can’t all be saints like you.

“Dorian! Lou! Got space for me?” Bull. My dear, wonderful, perfect Bull! Here for lunch! Don’t talk about work. Yes, shuffle over but not much. Take that little bit of body contact. Hold it. Treasure it.

“Get your pay run all done?” Lou, what did I just say?

“Yeah. Pain in the ass that one. Only have to do it once a month though. What gossip did I miss at mail this morning?”

Oh and here’s Dorian, recounting Blackwall’s fucking weekend again. Jesus Christ will this ever end.

“Hey, Lou. What kind of pie is that? Smells good.” Oh God, oh God, Bull’s leaning into me. He’s leaning into me. He’s touching me. His whole arm is touching my arm. He’s sniffing my pie. Code red. Code red.

“Steak and mushroom. From the cafe on the corner. Got all sorts there. This is my favourite.” Do not ask about the coffee. “Hey was your coffee shit? Mine was. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t go there but I do because it’s close you know, and I don’t want to walk too far when I’m on work time, you know…” Yeah, end it with a smile. But lick your teeth first so there’s no pie-- But close your fucking mouth before you do it. Ah, fuck. Fuckity fuck balls.

“My coffee was good! Strong. Feisty. Bit of bite, right?”

“There’s a joke in there somewhere.” Dorian’s all smug. They’ve definitely fucked.

“I like my women how I like my coffee?” God. When he laughs he throws his head back and slaps his thigh. He’s ridiculous. I love him.

Aaaand, lunchtime is over. Back to the grind. Bye Bull. It was nice touching you. Talking to you. God. I hope I didn’t say that out loud.

The afternoon always takes the longest. All that pie to digest. Makes me sleepy. This chair is fucking uncomfortable. I’m sure it’s not rated for eight hours. I should make a complaint. Get a real nice chair. Or one of those foot rests.

Hey, look at that pile! I’m racing through these forms! This is a good day! Yeah. Good day. And only an hour and a half until afternoon tea time. Sweet.

“Hey, Lou Lou.” Sera. Cup stealing Sera.

“Yes, Sera?” Nice. Good smile.

“My phone’s got a blinking light. What’s that mean?”

Jesus God, how many times-- “It’s your voice mail.”

“Right.”

“Someone called you? And you didn’t answer? So they left a message?”

“Who’d do that? Why not send an email?”

Breathe, Lou. Turn back to your computer. Maybe it was a rhetorical question. Ah, good. Yes, she’s walking away.

“So Lou, how’d I check my voicemail then?” My God, Sera, why don’t you just shout across the whole office?

Won’t take long to show her. Again. She’ll figure it out eventually. There. Done.

Only half a pile of forms left. Sweet. Shit. Not sweet. This is the one with the brown smear. Okay, handle with care. Okay, yes, that’s right. Maybe just put it over here… And… they haven’t signed it. Dick head. Now it has to go back to them. God. Where’s the pro forma letter saved? Right. And... printed. And signed, because I know how to sign a fucking letter. Gonna put in a new form, too. Maybe they’ll get the hint. And done. Off in Leliana’s mail bag.

Forty five minutes to afternoon tea. Sweet. Time for a pee break. Gonna play some Angry Birds. Yes, yes yes. Gotta kill those pigs. Fuck I love this game. Urg. Someone’s taken a massive dump in here. Fucking stinks. Maybe I won’t play Angry Birds. Fuck.

Fucking forms. Jesus, I hate this job. Even when it’s good it’s bad. And this form’s complicated. Shit. Gotta get out the manual, see what I’m supposed to do. Fuckity fuck. At least Cullen wrote the manual. He’s good at all that documentation shit. Right, here we go. Flow chart time. Okay, yes, if they ticked tick ‘no’ on question 8, then enter that in box C…. Okay. Okay. No. Lost. Go back…

“Hey, Lou. You didn’t come for afternoon tea!” Bull, Bull’s at my desk? And saying what? Fuck! It’s fucking four o’clock! I worked through my break! No! Nooooo! “Got you a strawberry. Josephine brought them in. They’re from her garden. Real sweet.”

He… brought me a strawberry? What does this mean? Is he about to propose? “Thanks, that’s great!” Way to sound sarcastic, Lou. Shit, it is sweet. Don’t look at him while you eat it. And don’t dribble. Oh my God, I hate me. “Sweet and juicy!”

He’s laughing again. Good save! And now he’s going back to his desk. Don’t mind me just checking him out… Shit. The man’s big all over. Real big. Just imagine having all that on top, pinning me down--no. Stop. No fantasies in the workplace.

An hour to go. An hour. Come one Lou. We got this. You and me. Yeah. Three more forms. Better drag them out. Easy ones, too. Thank fuck.

Five minutes till home time.

One minute.

Gonna count down the clock.

Five… Four.... Three… fuck it. Computer off. Home, here I come.

Wave goodbye, see you later, yeah yeah, I’ll have a great evening, thanks for asking. Got a nice dinner of cereal coming up. Might even warm up the milk. Make it savoury.

Damn, Bull’s gone already. No chance we’ll walk to our cars together.

“Bye, Lou! See you tomorrow.” Varric. Here when I arrive, here when I leave. The guy must really love his work. Or be swamped. No, not overworked. Maybe he doesn’t have Internet at home so just stays here and uses up all this delicious corporate bandwidth. Hey… maybe I should do the same thing… Move my gaming PC into the sick room… No. I hate this place.

“See ya, Varric.”

Lift or stairs? Push the button. If it arrives in ten seconds then take the lift. Okay, make it fifteen seconds. Thirty? Fine. I’ll take the fucking stairs. Fucking bull shit son of a--

#Actual DA fic #I don't know what else to say #it happened #there we go

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