#watch me draw the roy one to match this and make it

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

On Crystal Waters

AKA On Silk Sheets Part Two. (The pirate!au.) Or you don't feel like you belong in your husband's new life, but good luck convincing him of that. No smut in this one, but there is suggestive dialogue. ~2.5k words

It's not that you regret sleeping with your husband, it's more of the fact you didn't quite think it all the way through. Yes, you missed him. Yes, you might even still love him. But, he's built an entire life for himself without you.

You've seen it the past two weeks, the way he seamlessly works with his crew, how maneuvering about his ship is second nature. It makes you feel out of place. Even if you've slowly come to learn the names of the other pirates, it doesn't change the feeling that you're a piece of his past.

You can't help but wonder if you're even more than someone to warm his bed. The restless anxieties draw you to the deck just before dawn, unable to sleep even with him next to you. You're surprised he doesn't wake, but it makes it easier, allowing you a moment to your thoughts. It's nice, to watch the sun start to peak over the horizon, to see land slowly drawing closer. The quiet doesn't last long.

"We'll be docking soon."

You turn, eyes fixating on one of the pirates, Roy, you think, "Which port is this?"

He settles next to you at the railing, "Star Port, unless Jason changes his mind. He's been cautious since the navy ship tried to chase us down."

You sigh softly, the memory of cannons and shouting and swords being drawn flashing in your mind, "What's it like?"

"Star Port?" Roy replies cheerily, "you'll like it. Lively markets, great taverns, and nice views for a port city. Easy to get lost in, though, lots of winding alleys. Best stick close to someone."

"I'll keep that in mind," You murmur, eyes trailing back to the distant port.

"Something botherin' you, Sweetheart?"

"Are you looking to hear my secrets, Harper?" You drawl, idly tapping the wooden railing.

He huffs a laugh, "Have you got someone better to spill them to? I'm the closest thing you have to a friend at the moment, so spill away."

You tut, side eyeing him, "There's no need to rub it in. I'm well aware I'm alone on a pirate ship with complete strangers, an estranged husband, and not one person loyal to me."

He chuckles and shrugs at you, an easy going smile painting his face, "I'm going to take that as a no, and will take my place as the closest person you've got to call your friend. Congratulations, sweetheart, we both should be honored."

You raise a hand to your head and fake a swoon. It's nice, to joke around with someone like this after weeks of uncertainty and walking on eggshells, "my closest friend, here to console me over my husband moving on."

"Is that what's got you so down?" Roy asks curiously, and you curse yourself for letting it out, "The Captain's a right mess when it comes to ya. Lovesick, obsessed, head over feet, whatever you wanna call it."

You sigh and focus back on the city growing larger and larger, "He has other things now."

Roy leans closer and bumps his arm with yours, "Cheer up, sweetheart, you're with us now. You're family too. And you got Jason chasing after you like a dog. That bastard won't let anything happen to ya. He'll move the sun stars for you. So don't worry yourself over anything, the only thing you have to be concerned about is your captain's love sickness. We'll take care of the rest."

You falter over his words, throat tightening, "Why?"

"Why what?" He asks, raising a brow and giving you an incredulous look, "Why are we lookin' out for you? Why do we have your back already? Because that's what we do. Family has each other's backs. That includes you. You're one of us now. Whether you like it or not."

His words are a stark reminder, Jason's crew is nothing like you expected from a pirate lords ship. But Jason hasn't exactly matched up to the tales of 'Red Hood ' either. "A family," you breathe out.

Roy nods, "Don't get me wrong, sweetheart. Jason's as ruthless as he's cold, knows how to take his pound of flesh. I've seen him beat his enemies senseless with just his fists, but he's saved each and every one of us. We're loyal to him, and he's loyal to us."

You take in the information slowly, "It's... good. That he's loved."

"Loved ones way to put," Roy agrees, "crew practically worships the ground he walks on." He eyes you for a moment, "Does it bother you? Knowing that everyone here cares about him?"

You shake your head, "No. I know he made a life for himself without me. It's– I'm glad he wasn't alone."

Roy looks baffled. "That's not what I was expecting, lass."

"I do want what's best for him," You mumble, "even if best doesn't include me. I don't want him to be alone. And he's easy to love. I'm not surprised he built a new life."

"You care for him more than I thought you did," he admits, a bittersweet smile on his face, "I'd hope my wife still loved me too, even if we weren't next to each other anymore."

You wince, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You don't need to bottle it up. You're allowed to feel, allowed to let it out and talk about what you're going through. I'm glad to listen," Roy tells you steadily, patting your shoulder.

You offer him a small smile, "It's nice to have someone listen."

"You know the captain would listen, too. I know it's hard to talk to him about him, but he'd give you anything you asked. Hell, you could ask him to go swim in shark and jellyfish infested waters butt naked and he'd do it. No questions."

You laugh, "What a silly thing to ask for. I think I'll just stick to asking to visit the market."

"I'm serious, sweetheart, you could say you wanted him to jump off the side of the ship and he'd ask what side. You have no idea how much he adores you. Just wait and see. The only answer you'll get from him is, 'Yes, love.' Probably clear out the whole treasury on whatever you set your sights on," Roy drawls, grin widening with each word.

You hum thoughtfully, "I suppose that sounds like him."

He laughs, "Don't get me wrong, Captain's a tough guy. Smart, clever, strong as an ox and meaner than a crocodile with a toothache, but it all goes away 'round you. Turns right into a pup with no brains at all when you're near."

You can't help but laugh with him, "Sounds like a bit of an exaggeration."

He grins brightly at you, "Hardly, sweetheart. Why, he'll probably cause a whole scene when he wakes you and you're not there. You know, storm around the ship, calling your name, shoutin' at the top of his lungs and scaring half the crew into thinking there's a monster on board. It'll be quite the show."

You shoot a look towards the captains quarters, "He wouldn't, right? There's nowhere for me to go but his ship."

"Ah, he's the dramatic type. Wouldn't put it past him to go into a frenzy over not finding you in his bed," Roy teases, crossing his arms lazily over his chest.

"Maybe I should go back," You murmur, worry crossing your face.

Roy pats your shoulder, "No need. Captains not an idiot, after all. He'll come out here lookin' for you soon enough."

You sigh, slumping against the railing as the ship draws closer to port, "If you say so."

He laughs, "Speak of the devil. Look who's coming to join us."

You don't bother to turn and look as Roy offers a cheeky 'morning' to your husband on his way off to prepare for docking. You hear a sleepy grunt in response before two strong arms wrap around your waist, tugging you back from the railing into a broad chest.

You make a noise of protest, but Jason only holds you tighter, nuzzling his face to your shoulder, "Coulda woke me up, darlin', if you wanted to go on deck."

"You were sleeping. And I was making friends with your crew," You answer, shifting his grip, "You should be happy about that, you know"

"I am happy you're making friends. But Harper? Out of my whole crew, you pick Harper? You just had to choose the one crew member who's most likely to encourage you to do something stupid," Jason grumbles into your neck.

You tilt your head slightly, letting his lips ghost over your skin, "He didn't offer any particularly encouraging ideas, Jason."

"Really?" He asks, disbelieving, "No cunning escape plans?"

"He's too loyal to you to help me with that, I think," you answer mindlessly. Escape plans. It's not like you have anything concrete. You only threatened to jump off the ship a few times. And you don't even know if you want to leave. But the thought persists that it might be better. Better for him. That both of you have changed too much to work. That you don't fit as a pirate's spouse.

Jason hums in approval, "Good."

"Oh, Jason?" You start, turning in his arms to face him, "I'd like to go to the market today. I don't– I didn't get to grab anything when we– uh– left."

"Of course, darlin'," Jason agrees easily, pressing a kiss to your hair, "whatever you need."

"I don't have any money," You continue, hesitant, "But I could–"

"You don't need it," Jason cuts you off firmly, "Anything I have is yours. The finest silk, the purest gold, the most sparkling jewels, all of it. We're married, pretty. You're my partner. I want to take care of you. Okay?"

"Okay," You echo, too stunned to argue. But that's exactly like him, the man who risked the sea again and again to bring home finer and better things to you.

He grins, bright eyes leaving you to focus on the growing number of crew members on deck, “Looks like my crew’s finally waking up. About time to dock, it looks like. Get excited, love. You’re in for a treat. This port’s a party. We’ll have no problem finding some fun and whatever you want to buy here." He lets go of your waist to grab your hand, pulling it up for a kiss, "Perhaps you'll let me buy you a new ring while we're on land."

"A new ring?" You question, somewhat distracted but the shouts and noises from the crew as they prepare to dock, "Shouldn't you be helping them?"

Jason's shrugs, amused, "The crew can run themselves. They've docked enough times that it's like clockwork to them. And yes, love, a new ring. One fitting of a pirate lord's partner."

You study him, "They do call you that, don't they?"

He practically beams, voice going light and teasing, "You've heard? The crew of The Outlaw are somewhat of a legend. They tell tales of my skill with a sword. My prowess in battle. My strength and power. My sheer terror. They shiver at the mention of my name."

You laugh, tone skeptical, despite knowing the truth. He has his reputation for a reason, "Is that so?"

"Do you doubt me, my love?" Jason drawls, shifting closer to you, "Do you doubt your husband's skill? His prowess? Do I not impress you enough, darling?"

You tut, "Forgive me if I'm more interested in a new port than I am my husband's tall tales."

He flashes a faux hurt look, his hand pressed dramatically to his chest as he replies with a mock-offended tone, "Oh, I see how it is. You prefer the port to my tales. You'd prefer to explore a new port than hear about my latest adventure. I know how it is. My own spouse prefers a new port to my tales of triumph."

You can't help but grin at him, he looks so much like the person you married in this moment, "I'm sure you can regale me with stories once we're back out at sea."

"Oh, I plan to, treasure," he reaches up to trace your face, "I plan to share everything with you."

You open your mouth to answer, though you're not sure with what, when you're cut off by Roy, "Captain, should we drop the gang plank?"

Jason grins, and takes your hand, pulling you towards the plank, "Aye, Harper. We're going to buy out the entire market for my love today. Make sure our favorite tavern is prepared with enough ale for tonight. We're going to celebrate."

"Those are orders I'll be happy to follow, captain," Roy chirps back, motioning to the crew to drop the plank.

"What would you like to get first, love," Jason questions, tilting his head towards you.

"Books. Clothes that are easier to move in. A cloak. Hair pins," You list off, eager to get off the ship after so many days at sea.

"Practical," Jason mumbles, nodding to his crew as he guides you to shore, "I offer to buy you the world and you desire leathers."

"I can't wear silks, lace and ribbons around your ship," You protest, eyes darting excitedly around the docks.

"Perhaps not, love, but you can wear them in our bed," Jason answers, his hand leaving yours so he can grab your waist, pulling you to his side as he walks.

You go to swat lightly at him, to tease him for being vulgar, but you falter when you look up at him. His face is set, eyes trailing over the crowd of rugged sailors on the dock. He looks hard. Threatening. Like the pirate lord he is. "I- yes. Maybe I will," You stumble out instead, unable to get the thought out of your head that you don't quite match him now. That you look wrong by his side.

"Are you alright, love?" Jason asks, and when you look up at him, his eyes are on you, softer. Something you recognize.

"Yes, just overwhelmed, I suppose," it's only half of a lie.

"We'll stop at one of the tailors I know first. She's dressed my crew more times than I can count," he says, reassuring, "if it gets too much, we'll go rest at the tavern."

"We're not staying on the ship?" You question, curious.

"Mm. Not tonight, love. I'd like to have you in a bed that isn't rocking," Jason drawls, shooting you a sly grin.

"You're insatiable," You breathe out, eyes darting to see if anyone's heard.

"Only for you, darling," he replies cheekily, arm steady around your waist as he guides you towards the shop.

You follow him, there's nothing else you could dream of doing in the moment. But the whispers of the crowd plague your every step. And the question that's haunted you every day since he stole you from that ball resurfaces, 'should you be at his side?'

Part Three | More Headcannons

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE ! BATFAM W/ MILES MORALES (BUT GENDER NEUTRAL) ! READER

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] [ PREVIOUS PART] [ NEXT PART ]

GENERAL CW/TW: Spoilers for Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse. Typical Yandere themes of stalking, violence, and whatnot.

PART CW/TW:

current status: unedited

summary: after free falling into your senior’s arms and having an extremely awkward exchange. you make a new friend as peter seems to know another vigilante that may be able to help. damian calls dick for help. christmas is about to get messy as the final showdown with kingpin is closing in.

Reply if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

WHAT’S UP DANGER

(PART THREE)

“Two thousand off thermometers, two thousand surrounding us, travel two thousand kilometers to hang out with us,

What’s up danger? (Danger) What’s up danger? (Danger)”

Tim was alert most of the time.

He had to be if he wanted to maintain safety.

But that didn’t mean he was expecting a cutie to just fall into his arms.

Still the fact that he managed to catch you and is nonchalantly carrying the weight of all the pasteles your mom sent this morning and whatever concoction of food you’ve had to eat courtesy of faster metabolism for a couple of seconds now is impressive.

It’d be love at first fall if it weren’t for the fact that you were stressed out with the multiverse potentially collapsing into itself.

Before he could answer the question that both of you said in sync you push yourself off and make sure he doesn’t spot any potentially undissolved webbage.

“ Sorry, um, turns out self learning parkour isn’t a totally smart idea. “

Seeing you more clearly now. Tim recognizes your appearance as the person whose dad forced them to say I love you out loud during the first day of classes.

Sure, he was jampacked with activities both in his civilian and vigilante life but that didn’t mean he’d forget an event like that.

He remembers seeing you somewhere else as well, but he couldn’t put his finger on where.

“ I . . . may know a few things about parkour. I can teach you if you want?”

You stared at Tim as he uttered those words. The dark eyebags, the half drunk coffee in his hand (that he somehow miraculously kept stable even after catching you) and thought to the fact that your identity had to be kept hidden.

“ As tempting as it is to have someone as cute as you to teach me, I think I’ll pass. The eyebags look sexy and all but you look like you really need sleep.”

As you watch his skin turn pink you realize one fatal mistake. Two fatal mistakes in fact.

You take a note to check for concussions cause you clearly somehow miraculously gained balls and have been flirting with this cute stranger the past few minutes without noticing it.

Where was this confidence when you met Gwen huh?

“I — uh — have to go!”

Tim notices only after you’ve completely gone out of sight that his coffee has spilled all over the snow.

He stares at all the brown ambrosia he’s lost and wordlessly walks back home.

And before he knew it he was screaming into his pillow like a young school-girl in love.

That’s when he realized where else he’s seen you before.

In the hundreds of drawings Damian has made of your visage.

Jason wasn’t omnipresent. As much as he’d like to be everywhere at once it was simply impossible.

Roy helped a lot with patrolling the city but there was only so much the two can do together, only so much space the two can cover.

So when he met a man claiming to be from another universe with powers that allowed him to basically be anywhere, whenever. Jason was hooked.

Peter B. Parker is apparently his roommate and friend in another universe and is currently trying to head back.

He was skeptical at first. But as soon as Peter started revealing a bunch of sensitive information only people he was close to knew he had to concede.

It was there when he met you.

You reminded him a lot of himself himself when he was younger. Eager to prove yourself to match up the spider-people you met.

As such, he may or may not have been watching over you practice. It started with him casually observing you really. He didn’t know when it escalated.

But, it was his duty to keep citizens safe after all so even after realizing how strange his actions were he still kept an eye on you no matter what.

Seeing you fall into no other than the arms of his replacement struck a chord in him that he couldn’t describe.

He should have been faster (honestly speaking he wasn’t expecting you to be that bad web slinging). He should have been the one that saved your spine from being broken.

But nope, Tim had to be there. Right at that moment. It was as if destiny was laughing at his inability to do anything better than his siblings.

The following days he decided to keep an even closer eye on you.

Unfortunately that meant he was within your spider sense range and you were totally aware of his presence.

After you realized it was just Red Hood being red hood you shrugged and paid no mind to it. You had more important matters to tend to.

Still, the cheeky part of you couldn’t resist and gave him a wave and grin.

Hopefully whatever him and Peter were coming up with works.

As you stare into the broken flashdrive you and the latter stole a while back you grimace.

There was no time. You were to improve now or never.

Jason looked at you. His heart racing uncontrollably at the smile you gave him.

He wondered what other kind of expressions you could make with that pretty face of yours. How’d you look when you were afraid and how relieved and happy you’d be when he comes in to save the day. How you’d smirk when the two of you take down another group of thugs. Backs against eachother. A sign of absolute trust.

You. You were going to be his partner in crime in the future.

And he’d be damned if anything happen to you.

He couldn’t help but be excited for when the other spider-people left the scene.

Damian was slowly but surely losing his mind.

It was winter break and he hasn’t seen you in the dorms at all. If it weren’t for his excessive obsession with replicating your face via art he’d probably forget how you’d look like. (He definitely wouldn’t but a point was being made, okay?)

He thought that you might have been kidnapped if it weren’t for Ganke informing him of your rare appearances.

At least the boy was good for something.

He takes one lengthy, very extensive, look at his brand new expensive phone.

And another lengthy, extremely extensive look at all the sketches he’s drawn of your face, your room, your everything.

It was time to bring in backup.

“Dick. I . . . need your help.”

Taglist: @vanessa-boo @w31rdg1rl @zlatolait-writes @ice-cream-writes-stuff

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hallo, Covid here!!! Could you do general headcannons for Edward Elric and your favorite full metal alchemist characters?? I hope you’re doing well!!!

Hi Covid! Absolutely! I've never done general headcanons before so let's see how it goes! I've gone with five headcanons for each character; just let me know if you'd like some more (or some for different characters). Thank you for your request!

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist:

Characters: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye

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General headcanons about the characters.

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Ed (especially post time skip) enjoys making floral arrangements. He enjoys creating things without alchemy but when they don't turn out how he wants, they usually go flying out the window. Winry's seen a lot of flowers go that way.

Ed's really good at doing complex hairstyles. He's had a tone of practice with his own hair so learning new styles is easy for him. Mei learnt about this and always goes to Ed when she wants a new hairstyle.

A fan of horror movies (this is possibly more in a modern au). He is more of a fan of terrible b rated movies though. He unironically enjoys how tacky they are.

Ed has lots of small scars on his left hand from getting his skin pinched in his automail when he was still getting used to it as a kid. That's half the reason he started wearing gloves.

Has tried to wear platforms before. He thought they would make him taller but failed to consider how hard they are to walk and fight in. He nearly twisted an ankle before Al stepped in and forced him to take them off.

Al can't ride a bike. He was just barely at the right age to learn when the whole "human transmutation" thing happened and he couldn't learn to ride one while he was a suit of armour.

Has a really good singing voice. It just doesn't come across well in the armour. He likes humming to himself quietly when he's whiling away the long nights so his pitch is usually spot on after so much practice.

As much as Al likes cats, I see him as someone who would own a dog post-series. It suits his lifestyle and is good company without being too high maintenance (I tried to keep this as spoiler-free as possible).

Surprisingly dexterous with his hands. You wouldn't think so with him being a suit of armour for so long but he's nimble enough that he could easily pick up knitting if he wanted to.

Reads a lot of fiction novels. They're a good break from all the academic reading he does for alchemy. This means he daydreams a lot. He's so used to letting his mind wander during the night that he sometimes slips into his own thoughts through the day as well.

Mustang listens to salsa music while working. He was introduced to it while away on a military assignment and has kept up with the latest trends since.

Mustang never uses his alchemy outside of military uses. He uses matches at home and carries a lighter with him when he's off duty. He doesn't want to rely too heavily on something that he knows bothers Hawkeye.

Enjoys watching soap operas and telenovelas in his free time. He likes being able to switch his mind off and just watch something for the sake of just passing the time. He does end up getting invested in the story though...

Mustang enjoys reading and writing poetry. He's not very good at writing it yet, but he's improving. He's got all his draft poems in a box in the bottom draw of his bedside cupboard. Has considered publishing a few under a pseudonym.

Drinks his coffee with only a half teaspoon of sugar and a small splash of milk. He likes it more on the bitter side because he read somewhere that it has more caffeine that way. He needs to stay awake when doing paperwork somehow.

Hawkeye did ballet classes for years as a kid. She stopped when she was in her early teen years and hasn't really danced since. Mustang is the only one who knows.

Has a major sweet tooth but controls it strictly. She only allows herself one sweet treat a week. When she's very stressed, she lets herself indulge a bit and bumps that up to two sweet treats a week.

Listens to true crime! She loves theorizing about the culprit and trying to figure out the plot twists before they happen. Despite being surrounded by those sort of things at work, she likes listening to events that happen outside of Central.

Got her ears pierced when she was a kid. I think she had a lot of earrings left to her after her mother died and she wanted to wear some of them to remind her of her mother.

Has faint burn marks on her hands from her time in Ishval. Her metal gun get very hot in the sun and it burnt her hands when he had to hold it for a long time.

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Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

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Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment, or reblog will mean just as much.

[goleb]

i literally admire the way you always seem to be drawing, and the infinite inspiration you have. I aspire to be like you someday

Thank you... 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

I'm no good at giving advice, but these are things that work for me.

Don't let creation become a chore for you. Make things because you enjoy it, not because you feel like you have to. Try new things! Even if it's just a new brush or a pen, it can really help keep your art feel fresh in your mind. Pick up a different medium if you're feeling adventurous lol. I like pixel art, sewing and knitting so I got into cross stitch, and I like digital painting and sculpting so I got into 3d models. Experiment. Have fun!

Give yourself small goals, whatever you feel works for you, but don't beat yourself up if you don't manage it perfectly either. Remember it's okay to not give every piece your absolute all. Sometimes it's better to make a couple small doodles for a week straight than try to force yourself to finish some big piece and burn yourself out. I started out daily drawing with a week-long challenge and escalated from there over time and now it's just something I do. I still haven't managed my goal of drawing daily for a whole year but who knows, maybe 2024's the year, y'know? Really, all that matters is that you keep going.

For inspiration, well, that depends what you're looking for. Watch a show or read or look at other people's art, listen to music, try redrawing your old art (my personal bias but I love doing that, really shows how much you've improved over time and that can be incredibly motivating) or a screenshot or a meme, or study something you're not so good at like anatomy or shading or backgrounds. Art challenges are always fun and the best part is you can make your own to suit your preferences, which is why every one I ever did was about drawing Roy lol, I live to draw Roy, he's my muse. I owe at least half of my art skills right now to him and my drawing him so much, haha.

Just, remember to start small and grow from there. Going full on in first thing you do may work for some but is also an easy trip to burn out town or giving up because it's not exactly like how you imagined it and you end up feeling discouraged from trying. Truth is very few things match the standards of our own imagination, but until someone invents a way to print out art directly from your mind (which I hope someone does, I have so many pictures I need out of there and only so much time, haha), the best way to get there is to keep doing it anyway and one day you'll wake up and realise how much progress you've made since you first started, and best part is that this is not a one-time experience, and I think that's something to look forward to. So just keep going, you'll get there.

Also feel the need to mention my go-to motivational post, because I saw it once as a young artist and it stuck in my mind to this day.

You got this!

[dotster001]

Another twst writter NICE!

It's rare for me to see matchups in this fandom so I am very much interested huehuehue

I hope it's okay that I go by anon I use they/them pronouns

My personality type is an Into and my zodiac sign is a Libra

at the start I'm the most quiet of the bunch but when I get comfortable enough I end up being the biggest crackhead my friends online are either always caught offgaurd by my shenanigans or used to it at this point daily

even though I seem rather talkative annoyingly very much, flirting with random people in servers,I actually prefer to be left by myself to do my own things I go with the flow and tend to slack off at times but when it comes to things I'm interested in I make sure to give it my all and when I'm in the zone I don't like to be told off what to do, just because I'm a passive person doesn't mean I'll let people step on me I have my own limits and boundaries and won't hesitate to stand up for myself or others.

People usually underestimate me because of how dumb I act at times but when a serious situation calls it's basically a personality switch for me that I have to be in charge if nobody is up for the position, I also make sure to be very attentive to people I'm close with even down to the little details and if one were to ask me about my honest opinion I won't hesitate to be blunt though I make sure to tone it down a little depending on who I'm talking since I'm aware what I say can be rather rude.

Interests:Drawing and playing videogames also making absurd theories!!!

hope this isn't too long have a good day (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Event Closed

(a fellow Libra 😁)

I match you with Vil Schoenheit.

At first he is impressed by your calm collected aura, but he sticks around because there's something alluring about your crackhead, randomly flirty, but also private, nature. He's always on his toes with you, and it's new and exciting. Also, we all know that everyone loves libras! It's that winning personality. ;)

Draw him something? He'll be so flattered, and so happy. He'll give you a soft kiss on your cheek, tell you how beautiful you are, then post it on his magicam with an elegant caption about true love, and pure beauty, and the magnificence of art. Rook sobs about it every time, because he can't cope with the "sheer weight of Rois du Poison's love."

When Vil thinks back onto the moment he realized he was in love, it was a moment when you were blunt with Ace about being a dumbass. He can't remember which time it was, exactly, but he can clearly recall you standing before him, a serious expression on your face, as you told him if he didn't get his act together, he'd end up failing out of NRC. As a fellow blunt person, Vil was in awe. Don't be afraid to be blunt with him. He can take it. And he wants to hear what your opinions of him are.

Vil can learn a lot from your go with the flow/slacker side. At first he's not too sure about it, but his stress levels start to significantly decrease when he follows your way of living. And Rook comments that his forehead looks less lined in recent photographs. Huh. Who'd have thought?

The absurd theories…who knew Vil Schoenheit would be so intrigued by a conspiracy? His head spins whenever you just go off on a rant, but it's so hot how into your theories you are…(it's the Aries in him. He loves when you're passionate)

"These games are a waste of time," Vil grouched.

"And yet, you've been watching me play for three hours, perfectly entertained," you hummed.

He didn't say anything, but with how long you'd known Vil, you knew his lower lip was probably protruding prettily, and his arms were probably crossed, in a beautiful version of a pout. 

"Is it possible that, just maybe, you less are upset about the video game, and more that I haven't been paying attention to you?"

Vil scoffed a little too loudly, affirming your question more clearly than a yes ever could. 

"Vil," you hummed, before patting your lap.

He humphed, and rolled his eyes, before laying down and resting his head in your lap.

You gently pet his hair with one hand, while continuing to try and game with the other. It wasn't long before Vil was breathing slightly heavier, and it was clear that he had fallen asleep.

"Aw, my sleepy queen," you whispered, removing your hand from Vil's hair. 

At least, that's what you tried to do. A half asleep Vil whined, and pushed your hand back into his hair, before settling back into sleep.

"My needy, sleepy, queen," you muttered with a roll of your eyes, resuming petting his hair.

[rttnpnkpmpkn]

Do your friends ever disappointed you?

What make you interested in YB fandom?

What is your current mood?

Can I know which ship you like the most?

It's a long doozy xD

It happens. Can't truly blame them as they have their own things going on behind-the-scenes and I do have my moments where I'm like that to them. Same with family members, but that's a different story! xD

Thinking about it now that I'm in a calmer state, I really do want them to live well. Some aren't really bad people, even if I no longer see us getting along. I don't have the energy to hold grudges, nor do I to think about different scenarios of what could have been if things were different. It'd make me miserable and it impacts my productivity, including the ones that are necessary for my livelihood lol. With my asocial personality, it's already expected that I won't have long-term friends, so I really appreciate those who stuck by when they do.

It's very stupid lol. My last fandom before this one was Genshin Impact, and I was on that hoe for at least a year and counting, especially when coping during quarantine was not fun. I don't even get a long hiatus from work as I was "an essential worker". Compared to the YB fandom, I spent a king's ransom to get primogems and the merchandise. I used to play it every waking morning, and late at night. Then one day, I started to feel burnt out from all the grinding and the rewards no longer seem to match the difficulty. The twitter outrage and toxicity over the 1st year anniversary was the breaking point out of my obsession.

I was then on a lookout for new interest, watching ManlyBadassery videos when his gameplay of YB was recommended on my YT thumbnail feed. I gave it a watch, and thought it was an interesting concept, as I think it's the first time to that I got interested into stickman designs. What dragged me into the pit was the fan videos of the gray stickman. I thought it was very ridiculous to see peeps simping over a gray stickman like he was so sexyy, ... until I rejoined Twitter on my hardly-used nsfw account to see the fan art. They really sold me on him xD.

I started drawing him because I couldn't be on that inside jokes and memes others had made when I couldn't play the game at the time. Even if the fandom was no longer the same as it was in the beginning and I did play the game , but didn't match with my expectations (this version had its voice acting taken out), and its other issues, I really couldn't help but still find inspiration to draw for the characters as it did have its positives. It helped me in my toughest times and I want to repay that as I mentioned every now and then. Though don't get it twisted, I'm very much drawing for myself too so I can get the content I want, and life is short. It's been getting harder to get over each one, and since anything can happen, I'm preparing myself either way! People can block me if they don't like me or what I draw! I'm encouraging it, actually-- firm believer of getting along in separate rooms!

Current mood: Achieving a sense of peace within myself. It can't be helped for the way the world works, so I wanna learn to handle the challenges and the people ahead.

For YB? Y/N with any of the characters, Polyship of YNxLucyxVio, and Roy x Lucy ♥️ For Past ships. to name a few : Aether x Xiao (GI), Zero x Yuki (vampire knight), Gajeel x Levi (FairyTail), Saya x Solomon (Blood +)...

Thanks for asking and have a good one ^^ <33

[owlsandwich]

The Mechanics of Magic

Read along with me :D - Chapter 13

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

This chapter is affectionately known by me as "Roy eats pizza".

The novelty of being left to his own devices in the safe house had worn off surprisingly quickly. Roy flicked through the television channels, but apparently none of the programmes had changed in the last ten minutes. He supposed he should be grateful that there even was a television; the place seemed barely used, and Oliver didn’t seem the type to lounge around watching box sets. The lack of a games console hadn’t shocked him in the slightest.

Roy grabbed a slice of last night’s pizza from the box on the table, jolting it with a heating spell before taking a bite. He didn’t remember seeing a microwave in the kitchen when hunting for coffee that—morning — he’d finally found a pot of instant, a month out of date, behind around eight varieties of loose-leaf tea — and anyway, he didn’t feel like getting up off the couch. 

Switching off the television, Roy picked up the book he’d retrieved from the second bedroom; the only volume he’d been able to find that wasn’t a damn textbook. Before he could get much beyond the first paragraph, there came the sound of a slamming door and footsteps in the stairwell.

He was no longer alone.

With a burst of vigour he didn’t know he possessed, he chucked the book onto the coffee table and flung himself down behind the sofa.

“What the hell happened here?” 

The voice was familiar, and Roy poked his head out. As he thought, it was the man who had been here before; Matthew, if he remembered correctly. Dark eyes matched the straight black hair that fell around his sharp features, and though Matthew’s build was slim, Roy easily sensed the powerful magic he exuded. To his relief, Oliver also stood in the doorway behind him.

“Hey! You actually came back,” Roy said, standing up. Matthew glared at him immediately, but Oliver was scanning the apartment, having gone rather pale.

“W—what…?” Oliver stammered weakly. Under other circumstances, Roy would have enjoyed being the one to shake his cool composure, but Matthew’s frown was ruining the moment. “What happened here? How did you make such a mess? And what are you wearing?!”

Oliver had finally turned to him and Roy remembered the grey dressing gown he was still sporting over his clothes. 

“Ah, hope you don’t mind. I found this in the bedroom.” Roy jerked a thumb towards the door beside the kitchen. “Ended up just crashing on the couch again.” As on the first night, he had avoided using his designated bedroom, even after Oliver’s insistence. Somehow, it made the experience easier. 

“I can see that...” Oliver still hadn’t moved, seemingly transfixed by the room.

“I couldn’t get the wine out of the collar, though, sorry.” Roy rubbed guiltily at a red splatter blemishing the fluffy material. “I thought you’d have spelled it stain proof. Everything else in your wardrobe is.”

“You spilled wine on my— What do you mean ‘everything else in my wardrobe’?” Oliver did not look happy. “What else have you opened?”

“What was I supposed to do?” Roy shrugged off the dressing gown, missing its warmth as soon as he did so. Oliver took it from him wordlessly. “You didn’t exactly tell me when you’d be back. I got bored. Nathaniel’s a hilarious name for a fake ID, by the way,” Roy snorted. “Unless that’s your actual name. Erm, in which case… cool name, mate.” 

Making fun of the people protecting him from Felix Marek might not be the best idea, and, given the quality of the paperwork he had found in that spell-locked draw, Oliver and Matthew were clearly very professional when going about any illegal activities. 

Oliver shook his head slowly. “That drawer was magic locked. How did you—”

“Oh, don’t worry! I wasn’t actually looking for secret documents and I put them all back. I was looking for money.” This explanation, he realised, probably wasn’t helping his case. “Since, you know, I’m only here because I’m helping you guys out, and I don’t have any cash on me. I found some, by the way. In the third drawer. That’s how I got the pizza.”

“Wait, you got pizza delivered? To a safe house?” Matthew had been silent until now, listening to Roy’s explanation with an expression of vague disbelief. 

Roy rolled his eyes. “You told me not to leave! Anyway, I paid in cash. I’m not an idiot.”

“Could have fooled me...” Matthew mumbled, sitting down in the armchair furthest from where Roy stood. “How did you even know the address?”

“I saw it on the way in.” Roy shrugged. The street name and number on the door had been easy enough to remember. He wasn’t sure if knowing the phone number of the takeaway by heart too was something to be proud or ashamed of. 

“It just feels softer without the protective spells,” Oliver muttered to himself, running a hand over his stained dressing gown dejectedly. 

Roy hopped back onto the couch and reached for his coffee mug, then realised he’d grabbed the one with wine dregs and put it back down. 

“Maybe we should talk about why we’re here?” Matthew directed his words at Oliver, who seemed to shake himself out of his daze.

“Yes... apologies. You’re right.” Folding the dressing gown, Oliver hung it over the back of a dining chair and settled at the far end of the sofa.

Matthew leaned forward in the armchair, clasping his hands in front of him. “Roy, isn’t it? We need to know if you can get into the palace.”

Roy’s eyes went wide. “Hey, look, I’m not getting involved in anything there. I’ve got enough people after me as it is!” Felix Marek was bad enough; if these guys were planning some sort of palace heist then they’d have Morgan after them. Roy doubted Oliver’s promise of protection would hold up under those circumstances, no matter how competent the guy seemed. He folded his arms across his chest. “I can’t help you, anyway. Marek is one thing, but what makes you think I could break into the palace?”

“You recognised the lock installed at Felix Marek’s home and called it a palace lock,” Oliver explained. “We might be wrong, but we concluded that you would only know the palace used that type of spell if you had encountered it there.”

Yeah, he could see how they had figured that. Damn his stupid mouth. “Well, even so. I can’t help you. Sorry, mate.”

“Please. This is important,” Matthew interjected. He was rubbing his hands together, leaning so far forward that Roy thought he might fall from the chair. “If you know a way in, you need to tell me.”

“Makes a change, hearing a ‘please’ from you,” Roy shot back. He hadn’t so quickly forgotten the interrogation he had been subjected to at their last encounter.

“Listen, I’m sorry for how I behaved last time. I really do need your help.” The desperation in Matthew’s voice was palpable. “It’s— The Palace has my son. I need to get him and his friend out.” He tilted his head down into his open palms, as though the words were too much to face.

So that was why Matthew had changed his tune, though picturing him as a father was jarring. Whatever his son had done, it must have been bad. Despite his own feelings about Morgan, Roy hadn’t ever heard of the Palace kidnapping people for no reason.

“It’s a misunderstanding,” Oliver said, taking over. “He isn’t a criminal, he’s only eighteen—”

“Eighteen’s old enough to be a criminal, trust me.”

“He’s not.” Oliver’s voice was firm. “I can’t go into detail, but he’s in terrible danger there, through no fault of his own. I understand I’ve asked a lot of you already, but all we need is knowledge. Is there a way in?”

“Look, I feel for you, I really do.” Roy wasn’t lying; this discussion was shaking him more than he wanted to admit. “I don’t know how to get into the palace. Genuinely. I haven’t been there in years.”

“The lock, though? How did you know?” Matthew said, raising his head.

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose and took a heavy breath. Light was seeping through the thin blinds over the window. Another bright summer morning, just like the day he’d heard the news. 

“My mum. She taught me.” 

They didn’t have a right to the story, but Roy found himself continuing anyway, words stiff after a lifetime of being unsaid.

“Look, she... She worked in the palace, alright? When she’d come home, she’d set little locks for me as challenges. It was a game we’d play.”

The memory was still raw, choking him as it came out. She had been so proud when he’d first cracked one. The mischievous smile they’d shared, like co-conspirators. Perhaps that’s why he’d always had a taste for being in places he shouldn’t. 

“Where did she work?” Oliver asked gently.

“I dunno. For the Royal Family, and she was there when... well, you know.”

“She died in the attack,” Oliver said. It wasn’t a question, but Roy nodded.

“I’m sorry.” Matthew looked like he genuinely meant it, and Roy was unexpectedly touched. 

“Eh, it was nothing to do with you.” He shrugged again, but Matthew seemed to flinch as he spoke.

Oliver gave a deep sigh. “Alright. Well, unfortunately, that means we need an alternative plan.”

Traffic hummed past outside, muffled behind the closed windows. Roy had been truthful when he said he didn’t want to get tied up in any more criminal activity. The palace, though. To be where she had been. There wasn’t anywhere else Roy could think of that was so out of his reach, and yet so close to his heart.

“You know,” Roy said, breaking the silence, “there’s that garden party tomorrow. If it was me, I’d try and get hold of a ticket. Well, if it was really me, I’d swap shifts with a mate and get on the delivery crew, but I’m guessing that isn’t really an option for you.”

The delivery company he worked for had managed to get the contract for the anniversary events. He’d wanted nothing to do with the damn party when they were assigning jobs, but now he was starting to see things in a different light. In his experience, forcing your way into a building was the less efficient method. Roy had done it at Marek’s out of necessity, but he always preferred being let in through the front door.

“The anniversary,” Matthew muttered, looking at Oliver. “I can’t believe it, but I’d forgotten… it’s tomorrow.”

He unfolded himself from the chair and crossed over to the dining table. Roy craned his head back as far as he could without having to move from the couch, but stopped when he saw that Matthew was merely pacing the length of the room silently. 

Oliver was drumming his fingers against his leg. “Finding a ticket will be no simple task,” he stated. “Even if you were able to procure one, I’m sure there’ll be a guest list, too.” He turned to Matthew. “I’ll locate a list of the attendees. Perhaps seeing it will offer up a viable option.”

Roy couldn’t suppress the smirk that formed as Oliver spoke. “You don’t need a list, mate. I know exactly who’s got a ticket, but you’re not gonna like it.” Behind him, he heard Matthew stop moving. “Don’t you guys know Marek goes to the party every year?”

“Felix Marek,” Matthew said flatly. “What is your obsession with him, anyway? Why do you know that?”

“I’m not obsessed!” Roy whirled around, kneeling up on the sofa to challenge the accusation. “The bastard made a ton of money, alright? After the takeover. You worked for him; didn’t you wonder how he got so rich? Or did you just not care?” Roy scowled at Matthew, who didn’t look away.

“Tell me,” he growled, and Roy sank back down.

“They say he got a big payout for his ‘contributions’.” Roy made air quotes with his fingers. “He used to work in weapon design back in Vailberg, up until he got into business with Aiden Heliodor. He knows how they did it. I know it. Why do you think I broke in there? I was looking for answers.”

For a moment, Matthew didn’t move, an unreadable expression flashing across his face. When he spoke again his tone was softer. “So say we get the ticket from Felix Marek. What’s to stop him just telling the Palace that it’s gone missing?”

“I dunno.” Roy flopped back down next to Oliver, who jerked away from his touch.

“Matthew,” Oliver said thoughtfully. “The lock you were asked to install at Felix Marek’s property... Perhaps it isn’t thieves that are his primary concern.” He threw a glance in Roy’s direction. “The people who attacked us didn’t seem like they were supposed to draw attention. I don’t think Felix Marek wants anyone to know he had the wand in the first place. I don’t think he wants the weapon traced back to him.”

“So what? You’re suggesting we threaten to turn him in if he doesn’t get us into the party?”

“I’m just saying it could be leverage. We have a wand. Felix doesn’t know about our relationship with Morgan Heliodor; he has no reason to believe we wouldn’t take him down with us, so to speak, should he try to hand us in.”

Matthew ran a hand through his hair and Oliver shifted his seat.

“I mean, I don’t like it either — it’s dangerous,” he conceded. “I’m just suggesting it as an option.”

Roy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re not seriously going to go to the man trying to kill us all and ask him to take you to a party?”

Oliver steepled his fingers. “Felix Marek doesn’t know me. I should be able to arrange a meeting—”

“No,” Matthew said sharply, interrupting Oliver’s rationalisation. “Marek and I have business to settle. I don’t appreciate being attacked in the street, especially when they drag my friend into it, too. When I’m done with him, we aren’t going to need leverage.”

“Erm... but if attacking Marek directly was always an option, why the hell have we been hiding from him?” It seemed a bit unfair that Roy had been stuck hiding in a safe house if they could have just threatened Marek and forced him to back off this whole time.

“Things have changed.” Matthew didn’t seem like he was going to provide further explanation. The expression on his face, however, was enough for Roy to decide that he wouldn’t want to be Felix Marek right now. 

Oliver had reassumed his tapping, his expression sombre. “If you convince him to get you in, you’ll be alone.”

“I know,” Matthew replied. 

A conversation that Roy wasn’t privy to seemed like it was taking place beyond Matthew’s simple reply. He shuddered nonetheless.

Matthew was planning to break into the palace solo, right under Morgan’s nose, with only his enemy for company and at the most important official event of the year. Roy didn’t feel like he was being the stupid one this time.

“You promised you’d get Marek off my back, right?” The two men looked up at Roy as he spoke, but he continued before they could comment. He really hoped he wasn’t going to regret this. “I’m not saying I’m going to risk my neck for you, but Oliver sounds like he’s got it right to me. You’d be an idiot going in there alone. I’ll swap a shift; there’s always someone who doesn’t want to work those hours. Just make sure I never have to hear from Marek again. Or Morgan, for that matter.” 

Roy half expected them to tell him no, that he’d only get in the way. To be honest, they would probably be right.

Instead, Matthew extended a hand. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Roy clasped it in his own, Matthew’s fingers cold to the touch.

[mixtapestar]

Fic First Lines

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

I was tagged forever ago by @rubickk7​ & @freneticfloetry​. Thanks y’all!

first time for everything (Original Work) | Matty isn't usually a big fan of frat parties, but at least this one has good drinks. He'd rather stay sober than drink another Bud Light Lime, even if it was free. But no, this place not only has proper drinks with good mixers, it also has a guy that will mix them for you.

out with it (Ted Lasso) | Roy corners Jamie after training. "Why have you been acting so pissy at me?" / "Fuck off. Not everything's about you, old man."

equal opportunity (Ted Lasso) | "Up for a pint?" Roy asks Jamie after they wrap up training for the day. / "Yeah, 'course. Meet you there in twenty?" Roy nods, grateful Jamie doesn't want him to hang around.

keeping you warm (Ted Lasso) | Jamie's got an energy that he can't shake. When he comes back from training, Roy natters on about what he thinks he'll make for dinner, and Jamie can't manage more than one-word responses. He goes for the tea, but caffeine's probably a bad idea, and the only decaf one they've got is that minty one that Jamie can't stand. His skin is buzzing with the need to do something, though, so he moves around the cabinets, trying to find it. / "Oi," Roy says sharply, and Jamie stills. It's possible Roy's been trying to get his attention for more than a second. "Stop what you're doing," he adds, and he's using that voice.

first drops of rain (Good Omens) | The rain always made him think of Aziraphale.

against the door (MCU) | "You're gonna be the death of me," Phil mutters, straining his ears for sounds of anyone walking down the hall on the other side of his office door. / "But oh, what a way to go." Clint's voice rumbles against Phil's throat as he works Phil's belt loose. Phil swallows back a moan. This is a terrible idea.

instructed (Sex Therapy) | "Keep it on," Andreas says as Elliot reaches for the corset ties. "Haruto, Elliot has dressed up just for you. Show him how you feel about that." / Haruto whines, attempting to shuffle forward on his knees while his wrists and ankles are bound behind him.

go to fuckin’ sleep (Ted Lasso) | Today's match had been particularly rough on Jamie, and Roy's trying to be normal about it. / Ted's giving his usual post-game pep talk—they'd ended in a draw thanks to Jamie's last-minute goal, they don't need that much building up—and all Roy wants to do is sling the visibly-exhausted Jamie over his shoulder and carry him to bed. But he can't do that, not without a million fucking nosy questions, even though Jamie clearly needs sleep more than he needs any fucking fluff thrown at him.

the intricacies of sharing a bed with your coworker (Original Work) | "Are you sure you don't want me to sleep on the floor?" / Raul sighs. "For the last time, Scott, just shut up and go to sleep."

magical glitter (Ted Lasso) | When Keeley opens her door to find Jamie on the other side, it's not all that surprising—he's been coming round more and more lately, grabbing a drink and joining her and Roy to watch telly for a bit. But the sight of him is what jars her out of her casual hello.

*

Tagging anyone who writes and wants to do it! 💜

[solar-siren]

Angstpril Day Thirty: Lost Hope

Sam isn’t sure what he expected.

Alan’s pager must be on the fritz—which is hardly shocking considering it has to be at least thirty years old. There’s no one here. 

The arcade is empty. 

He turns the lights on for good measure. There’s no point walking around in the dark.

The arcade cabinets come to life around him, along with the neon on the walls. When the stereo kicks on it’s loud enough that he can feel the bass in his chest.

Someday love will find you…

Sam looks up at the light shining through the office window.

 There’s no one here, as expected. The furniture is still wrapped in plastic. The sheet on the couch crinkles, almost complains, as Sam sits down. After a long moment his head sinks between his knees. 

He hates it here, hates the warm glow of the neon, all the lights and sounds of his childhood. He loathes this place because he used to be happiest here. He still remembers running between the arcade cabinets as a kid, laughing as his dad chased him. Flynn used to hold him up when he was too small to reach the controls on his own. They would play games together for hours. Sometimes, they would even stay after closing, would have the whole place to themselves. Those are still some of Sam’s best memories.

But something else happened here, too. Twenty years ago tonight, his dad walked into this building and never walked out again. Or so it would seem. Alan, Lora and Roy scoured this place for any clue as to where he might have gone. So did the police. No one came up with anything. 

So it’s no wonder Sam has a complicated relationship with this place. For all intents and purposes, this is where his father died.

Or at least the place where his own life ended.

Something in the corner glints, drawing his thoughts back to the present. Sam reaches between the couch and the wall and comes back with a dusty bottle of champagne. He’s not sure what it’s doing there. (He’s not sure he  wants to know.) 

But this is a special occasion. 

The cork shoots across the room when he opens it. It fizzes over onto the carpet and he can’t bring himself to care. He takes a long swig, then raises the bottle to the machines below.  

“Happy anniversary,” he says. 

 Sam downs most of the bottle. Too much. The alcohol dims the pain from his fall earlier, and makes him groggy. He’s exhausted. It’s been too long since he slept. Maybe he’ll crash here tonight; he’s aware enough that trying to drive sounds like the dumbest thing he could do. 

When he rises, unsteady, and rips the plastic sheet off the bed, something falls from the nightstand. A book of matches. 

For a moment he freezes, crouched on the floor and thinking too hard. Downstairs, the stereo plays to itself.

And if you don’t love me now 

You will never love me again I can still hear you saying 

You would never break, never break the chain

After that he doesn’t think at all. 

A black column of smoke is choking the sky by the time Alan arrives. This is too much like another night,  this exact same night twenty years ago. Once again he finds himself pushing towards a blocked off arcade, wondering where a Flynn has gone. 

The building is engulfed in flames. He only has to look in that direction to feel the heat. The streets are lined with emergency vehicles. A crowd has gathered, come to watch it all burn down. His stomach turns. 

“Sam!” Alan shouts. Dear god, please don’t let him be inside. Please—

“Alan?” a voice sounds from behind him. A figure is hunched on the concrete steps there, watching the flames from a safe distance. 

“Sam!” Alan descends in a cloud of worry. Sam waves him off. 

[mienaime]

Her Majesty The Queen

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 17

Chapter 1     Chapter 16

Marinette shook her head and tried to hide her giggles. Red Robin had to have thought he was being discrete, right?  Unless he was intentionally making himself known as a way to intimidate any more rogues from trying to get to her.  He was discrete enough that the average person probably wouldn’t notice him, but anyone paying attention, looking for him, would see him easily.

She waited until he was looking down at her again and waved at him.  He smiled and waved back before blushing, shaking his head, and motioning for her to continue. Marinette grinned and looked back at the map on her phone.  The restaurant Jason chose was around here somewhere.  One of the places he just ended up at a lot, he said.  Low key and cozy, exactly the kind of place she needed right now.

After that, he said he was planning on following her around for the rest of the day.  He’d said it in a joking tone, but she knew there was nothing joking about his intent.  He would be shadowing her for the rest of the day. He couldn’t hide the gravity behind the statement.  He couldn’t mask the concerned questions, no matter how casually he tried to play them off. The insistence on seeing her apartment, make sure the view was good enough and the kitchen was stocked enough. The way he casually suggested she teach him how to make a baked good she liked.  

Honestly, she was shocked he let her walk there on her own, but he said he’d be have eyes on her anyway.  She looked back up at Red Robin with a smile.  Clearly, he wasn’t kidding.  White lensed eyes.  The smile quickly morphed into a frown when she couldn’t see him.  He hadn’t been hidden this whole time, so where was he now? She squeaked and whirled around into a fighting stance when she heard someone land behind her.  She barely had time to put her hands down before Red Robin was standing next to her, his hand on her shoulder while he looked around, eyes sharp and calculating.

Marinette followed his lead and scanned the crowd. In lieu of knowing what she was looking for, she kept her eye out for anything that seemed out of place. Everything looked normal though. Nothing seemed suspicious.  There were a few people throwing them odd looks, but nothing that seemed hostile or calculating, instead it seemed more curious and fearful of what having a vigilante dropping down in the middle of the night meant for them.

Red Robin turned back to face her.  “Let’s get you somepl…” his hand went up to his ear. “Shit!”

Marinette’s eyes widened in fear.  “What happened?  Did someone get hurt?”

Red Robin’s eyes looked around them again and narrowed at one of the buildings.  He moved his arm to her back and firmly pushed her toward the building. “Nobody is hurt.”

She looked at him doubtfully.  “But…”

“There’s just an issue that needs attention, but nobody has been hurt,” he assured her, looking down briefly to meet her eyes.

Marinette nodded uncertainly, not feeling calmer with his reassurance.  She couldn’t see his eyes past the white filters to gauge his sincerity, and it was unsettling.  “So my friend and brother, my… the Waynes, they’re… nobody is hurt?”

Red Robin paused almost imperceptibly.  If she hadn’t become used to his constant pressure on her back, she wouldn’t have noticed.  He looked back down at her as they walked, the tense muscles in his face softened considerably.  “They’re all safe.  Your friend and brother and family.  They’re all safe.  I promise. I just need to go assist someone, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him.  “I can defend myself you know.”

Red Robin gave her a deadpan expression. She’s sure if he didn’t have a mask, he’d have his own eyebrow raised at her.  “After last night, you can understand that we and your family are a bit concerned and perhaps a bit overprotective just right now.”

Marinette rolled her eyes with a sigh but didn’t fight him.  “So you’re going to, what?  Hide me in some abandoned office until everything blows over?  That sounds safe.”

Red Robin huffed out a laugh.  “Absolutely safe.  That is our standard approach.  I’m glad you understand how we operate.”  He gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher with his mask in the way.  “No.  I think your family would hunt me down if I did something so reckless with you.  They’re quite protective, you know?”  

Marinette opened her mouth to say something but shut it quickly.  He was a stranger.  There was absolutely no reason to get into her family dynamics with him.  “No,” he continued, oblivious to her uncertainty. “I’m going to stash you with someone we know we can trust.”

Marinette looked up at him with narrowed eyes.  “A babysitter.”

The corners of Red Robin’s mouth quirked up. “Well, if you’re going to whine like a baby…” he teased.

Marinette gasped dramatically.  “If you want whining, I can show you whining.  I grew up with the most spoiled brat in existence.  I can give new meaning to the word.”  Red Robin actually laughed as he opened the door to the business.  “You know, I’m supposed to meet my… um… br… brother,” she stuttered over the word.  “Jason’s going to wonder about me.”

Red Robin cringed slightly.  “You should probably text him.  It isn’t a good idea for you to go out until this is resolved.” Marinette nodded and shot a text off to Jason letting him know she was okay and Red Robin was putting her somewhere safe for a bit.

They heard movement from the building, finally drawing Marinette’s attention to the business they had gone into.  “Can I help… T… Red Robin?  Marinette?” Roy asked pushing out from behind a motorcycle with its transmission in his hands.

“Hey, I was hoping you could watch Marinette while I take care of something.  You’re a friend with the Waynes right?” Red Robin asked pointedly.

Roy stared at him for a few seconds before realization set in.  “Yeah. Yeah, we’re like fam…” he looked over to Marinette, “well, not family family.  But, uh, yeah.”

Red Robin cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips.  “No, I’m pretty sure you are con…” he was cut off by something in his com.  He paused for a moment to listen before turning back to Roy with what Marinette was pretty sure was supposed to be a glare.  “I’m trusting you,” he growled.  “There’s some madness going on.”

Roy’s face turned serious and he gave him a determined nod.  “I’ll protect her.  Go.”

Red Robin looked between them for a second then nodded and took off.  Roy and Marinette watched him leave for a second before turning back to each other. Marinette gave him a shy smile. “Hi,” she waved sheepishly. “Sorry to just drop in on you like this.”

Roy gave her a welcoming smile and motioned to the garage bay.  “Not at all. I guess you’re just visiting sooner than we anticipated.  Can’t say I’m upset at all.”  He moved some parts off of a stool and motioned toward it for her to sit.  “I should say sorry that you have to hunker down here. You definitely look like you were going somewhere a bit nicer.”

Marinette looked down at her outfit analytically, a blood red, long-sleeved blouse, black skinny jeans, and black heeled boots. She’d wanted to wear ladybug colors after the previous night in the Riddler’s facility and the Wayne dining room. Ladybug colors always reminded her of the strongest, most resilient parts of herself.  She looked back up at him, her eyes catching on the coat rack behind him.  “Excuse you. All I need is that jacked over there and I’d fit right in.  In fact, I’d match your baby.”

Roy looked to where she was looking, seeing his black leather jacket hanging up.  He blushed slightly at the idea of her wearing his jacket.  He could picture it on her, the jacket hanging loosely off of her significantly smaller frame, her clinging to him as they rode on his bike… He looked back at her with a soft look. “And you would still be too classy to be here.”

Marinette pouted at him.  “You say that like I don’t fit in.”  She didn’t want to say the ‘with you’ that was running through her head.  Did he think she wouldn’t fit with him?  “I can fit. I can even be helpful.”

Roy shook his head.  “No, not at all just…”  He motioned to his own clothes, an old tee, stained jeans, and a backwards ball cap that was just as stained with grease as his jeans, and then motioned to her.

Marinette looked between the two of them and grinned. “You underestimate my ability to get dirty.  Give me a few minutes and I’ll be as dirty as you.”

Roy’s eyes snapped to the wrench in his hand. Based on the complete lack of amusement or sultriness in her eyes, she did not at all realize what she just said. He took a few seconds, it may have been minutes, to calm his heart and mind.  “Okay, how about you prove it?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him.  “Prove what?”

“That you can be helpful.  Roll up those sleeves and help me with this engine.”  He motioned to the transmission on the workbench next to her.  “I can also get you some coveralls so your outfit won’t get dirty if you prefer.” He looked back at her with an amused glint in his eyes.  “They’ll be a bit big on you…”  Marinette narrowed her eyes at him but his eyes danced with even more amusement at her reaction.  “Since you’re so litt…”

“You know what…” she cut him off, standing to get in his personal space.  She stared up at him, her eyes meeting his for a moment before her cheeks burst into color.  She looked away and cleared her throat.  After a second to recover, she motioned to the transmission as she rolled up her sleeves. “Just tell me what you’re doing and how I can help.”

Roy grinned and twirled the wrench in his hand. “Yes, ma’am.”  

He leaned over the transmission and started loosening one of the nuts holding the piece together.  His hand faltered for a fraction of a second when Marinette leaned next to him, close enough for him to feel her breath as she let out a sigh, close enough to feel her body heat.  Close enough he could easily wrap his arms around her and pull her against him.  He had to tighten his hands to keep them from reaching over.

He took a breath to focus.  Now was not the time.  She had just been kidnapped and people could take a bit of time to recover from something like that, especially considering the things she had said about having a breakdown.  He flicked his eyes over to her trying to assess how she was doing.  Her eyes were intently watching his hands as they moved around the transmission.  They were sharp and her body seemed to be relaxing the longer she watched him work.  If he didn’t know better, he’d never know she had been kidnapped and threatened the night before.

She looked up at him questioningly when his hands stilled as he analyzed her.  He gave her a small smile and motioned toward the tool box.  “Um… I need… Can you, um, get me the, um… 5/16th wrench, please?” he stuttered.

Marinette jumped up to search through the wrenches in the box.  She frowned, her lip jutting out as she searched.  “I don’t see it here.  Is there somewhere else it could be?”

Roy’s face scrunched as he tried to remember where else he might have used it.  He’d been working on the bike almost all day.  He looked back at the motorcycle trying to remember what he had done with it. He was broken from his concentration by Marinette’s light giggle.  He looked over to her with a raised brow.  

Marinette looked away quickly, another blush on her cheeks.  She followed where his line of sight had been and searched around the motorcycle, focusing her energy on her search for the wrench instead of the adorable face he made when he was concentrating and the way his nose wrinkled up in thought and his lips quirked to the side.  After a minute of looking she shook her head and held her empty hands out for him to see.

“Any other ideas?” she asked as she came back over to her stool.

Roy sighed deeply and scanned the workbench. He had a backup set of wrenches, but he knew he had used that one recently.  It couldn’t have gone too far. His attention was brought back to Marinette when she giggled again, her giggles turning into full blown laughter.  He gave her a confused look which made her laugh louder.  She reached over the workbench, almost climbing onto it to grab the wrench that was behind the transmission.  She held the wrench out to him triumphantly with a smug, teasing smile on her lips.

Roy fought choking on air at the sight of her climbing onto his workbench and all the images that immediately flooded into his mind involving that particular scenario, especially in his jacket… and nothing else.  He took the wrench, hoping she believed the blush he knew was on his cheek was from embarrassment rather than where his thoughts had gone.  “Thanks,” he managed to mutter out.

“Anytime,” she grinned back.  “See?” she motioned to herself.  “Helpful.”

Roy chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Guess I’ll have to keep you around then.”

Marinette chuckled and let her focus settle back on the part he was working on.  She watched his hands move effortlessly and confidently over the pieces.  “Flathead screwdriver,” he asked, holding out his hand for her.  She quickly grabbed one and slapped it in his hand like he was a surgeon.  He looked up at her with a grin.  “Thanks, nurse.”

Marinette shook her head and let her gaze pass over the garage bay.  She quirked her head to the side when her eyes settled on a bow leaning up against the wall by the door.  “What’s with the bow?”

Roy’s head jerked up.  His eyes immediately found his bow and quiver.  He looked back at her with an almost natural smile. “Oh, I just… like to shoot.”

“It’s yours?” she asked perking up.

“Yeah… I just pulled it out… recently.”  His eyes flicked to the cut on her cheek quickly before returning to the transmission.

Marinette looked back at the bow.  “That sounds fun.  I always wanted to learn.  How did you learn?”

Roy’s eyes took on a far off look and a sentimental smile spread on his lips.  “My father, my adopted father.”

“Oliver?” Marinette asked, confusion clear in her voice as she tried to reconcile the sentimental smile with his description in the bar.

“Ah, so you know,” Roy said quietly, eyes suddenly in focus and pointed at the transmission.

Marinette gave him a sympathetic smile.  “Sorry.  Damian… he um… thought I knew,” she stuttered out.  She really didn’t want to get into that conversation right now.  She was sure Roy would be upset and it was just something she wanted to leave between her and Damian, not someone else.  “He just mentioned it yesterday.”

Roy nodded and flicked his eyes up to her for a second, gauging her reaction, waiting for the questions.  There were always questions.  Questions about Oliver, questions about their relationship, questions about their money.  The exact combination might change but they were always there.  “Sorry for bringing it up,” she said quietly.

Roy shook his head, with a small smile.  “No.  It isn’t your fault.  No not Oliver.  It was before Oliver.  My birth father died saving me from a forest fire and a man named Brave Bow adopted me. He raised me.  He was a really good man.  He taught me how to be a good person and how to shoot… and just about everything else I know.”

The smile on Roy’s face made Marinette smile too. “He sounds like a good father.”

Roy nodded.  “He was,” he said quietly.  He looked over at her hesitantly before focusing back on the piece he was working on. “How are you feeling?”

Marinette quirked her head to the side.  “Feeling?  Not as useful as I could be.  A burden on you more than a help, if I’m being honest,” she shrugged.

Roy snorted.  “Sorry, I’ll try to get you to do more of my work for me.”  He sent her a smirk that got an eye roll out of her.  “And I would never call you a burden.  In fact, I’d fight to keep you nearby,” he added quietly, no longer meeting her eyes.  He tried to focus on the transmission but he could feel her eyes on him, making it impossible to think of anything else.  

After a few seconds he cleared his throat.  “I mean after,” he motioned toward her face, his hand still grasping the gear he had just removed.  “How are you handling it?  The Riddler’s no joke.”

Marinette scoffed and picked up a wrench.  She spun it in her hand as a distraction while she spoke.  “He really isn’t.  I didn’t find him funny at all.”  Roy gave her a flat look and returned to working on the part, letting her decide to continue discussing it or not.  “How did you know?” she asked quietly.

“He broadcast it to all Gotham.  Everybody knows.  Everybody saw you deliver the verbal smack down of the century,” he grinned at her.  “It was inspiring.  You were amazing.”

“I was pissed is what I was,” she grumbled.  She looked away and sighed, running her hand over her face and grimacing when she accidentally touched her cut.  “I forgot everyone would see that.”

She stared at the wrench as she twirled it in her hands.  She knew the Waynes probably knew she was taken.  She’d called Jason to let him know she was fine, but had pretended she had to go talk to the police and cut the call short.  She really didn’t want to talk to them after the scene at dinner. She didn’t want to have the conversations she knew they were going to want to have.  She just wanted to move on.  It didn’t have anything to do with them, especially the kids.  It was her past, one they had no way of knowing about and no way of helping with.  There was no reason to hash through it all again.

But she hadn’t realized they would get to see the full video.  She frowned at the thought.  She’d said so much while she was yelling and she couldn’t remember what all she had said. It was a moment of weakness that now the entire city, possibly the world now knew about.  Thankfully she was positive she didn’t mention anything about the miraculous so to anyone watching she would have looked like any other normal, non-miraculous wielding person.

And on top of it all, she wasn’t sure if she was grateful or upset that M. Wayne hadn’t reached out to see if she was alright. All of the kids had even Lucius had, but not him… or Alfred.  After the way she left, he might not feel like he’s allowed to.  But still… he hadn’t bothered to check on her at all.

She looked up with a weak smile.  “Guess I’ve truly experienced Gotham now.”

Roy grimaced.  “Sorry about that.”  He watched her as she seemed to work through her feelings on the matter, going from annoyed to hurt.  He returned his attention to the engine part.  “I think I need to start calling you Fire Flower.”

Marinette looked up at him curiously.  “Fire Flower?”

“Yeah,” he looked up briefly with a spark in his eyes. “It’s like a fire cracker, but cuter. More impressive to look at.” Marinette blushed and looked down, accidentally dropping the wrench she had been playing with.  Roy grinned widely at her before focusing back on his work. “You sure you feel safe?” he asked, still focusing on the engine.

Marinette nodded.  “I have Adrien and Max.  We might not look like we can protect ourselves, but we’re pretty good at it.” Actually incredibly well.  She was possibly the best protected person in the world right now, but he didn’t have any way of knowing that.

“I’m actually pretty surprised Adrien isn’t with you right now or Max.”  He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow.

Marinette nodded.  “You’re not wrong.  They would be but Max just started work and couldn’t really take a day off immediately and Adrien had a job interview in Metropolis today.  And this is the one he’s really excited about.  I was supposed to go with him and check out Metropolis, but then I wouldn’t have had anyone with me while he was in the interview and that made them a bit too nervous.  Here at least they know I have the bats following me at all times so, they were pretty confident I was safe.”

“The bats are keeping an eye on you, huh?” Roy asked with a secretive grin.

Marinette nodded.  “I’m not sure if they’re trying to be subtle, but yeah.  I don’t know what kind of relationship they have with the Waynes. They mentioned… the bats certainly act like they talk a lot and know each other well.”

Roy froze for a second.  Well, they certainly weren’t being as discrete as they normally are, it would seem.  Although after last night, he could imagine they were pretty flustered.  He had been and she was just an acquaintance to him. He wanted it to be more but… that wasn’t the point.  But at this rate, she was going to figure it out before they told her and he didn’t imagine that going well for them.  “So you’ve caught them a few times?”

“Caught is a liberal term for it.  Is it catching if they aren’t really hiding?  I think Red Robin might have been trying… maybe, but Batman was on our balcony, standing vigil all night last night.”

Roy glanced over for a second.  “Batman was watching over your apartment last night?”

Marinette nodded.  “Markov said he was there until Red Robin took over some time around breakfast.”

Roy paused for a few seconds then tapped the screwdriver against the workbench.  “And… Bruce? Did Bruce check in on you?”

Marinette looked away and licked her lips before pursing them.  She twisted the wrench around a few more times, focusing entirely on that, not meeting Roy’s eyes.  “No,” she finally said in a falsely calm voice.  “I… I didn’t…  Dinner didn’t go so well.”

Roy moved closer to her until he was close enough to reach her comfortably but still gave her space so he wasn’t crowding her. He ducked his head to try to meet her eyes.  She yielded quickly and met his eyes.  “He’s worried about you.  I guarantee you he is.  He’s just… shit at emotions and reading a room.  

“If you guys fought, I promise you he isn’t less worried about you, he’s just afraid that seeing him or hearing from him will upset you more.  I promise you he’s finding out everything he can about how you are from anyone that will tell him.  He cares. Your fight didn’t push him away. He’s just a fucking idiot.  And an asshole, so there’s like a 97% chance if you did fight, it was his fault.  And he probably knows that, just not how to make it up to you.”

Marinette huffed out a laugh despite her eyes suddenly turning glassy. “I don’t need him to make it up, just… it’s not even his fault.  It was mine really.”  She fiddled with the wrench in her hands, testing the strength, trying to bend it, focusing on that as if it was the most interesting thing in the room.

“I doubt it.”  He sighed and readjusted his cap as he tried to come up with the right words.  “I’ve found that when bad things happen at the manor it’s almost always because Bruce was being a controlling little bitch.”  Instead of laughing, she frowned at the wrench. Right, calling her father, she’s trying to connect to a ‘controlling little bitch’ probably isn’t really helping. He sighed and looked back up trying to figure out how to remove the frown.  It didn’t look right on her face.  She should be smiling.  Always. “Do you want a hug?”

Marinette finally looked up from the wrench in surprise.  After a second she gave him a weak smile and shook her head, returning her focus to the wrench.  “I’m fine.”

Roy lightly placed his hand on the wrench to stop its motion. “That’s not what I asked,” he said gently.

She blinked at him a few times before a smirk quirked her lips up. “I mean… I’m not going to object to a handsome man wrapping his arms around me,” she answered slyly, throwing his words from days earlier back at him.  Roy grinned and wrapped his arms around her, gently at first but holding her tighter as the hug went on.  His arms were strong and reassuring, giving a sense of warmth and safety and Marinette quickly found herself melting into his embrace.  She nuzzled into his chest and dear God, she could feel his muscles moving through his shirt with every minute movement.

She tried to hide her frown when he pulled away after a few minutes. But, it turned into a smile when he stopped after a few inches, just enough to look down at her.  Roy smiled softly and rubbed her cheek with his thumb a few times.  Marinette leaned into his hand, captivated by the feel of his hand on her face.  He started to lean down but jumped away with the sound of clattering right next to them.  Roy moved in front of her, caging her in behind him as he looked for the source of the sound.

Marinette grimaced and leaned down to pick up the wrench that had slipped through her fingers when she was looking at Roy.  He chuckled awkwardly and moved back to his transmission. He started working on it again a lot slower than he had been before.  His hands were shaking slightly.  He could still feel the traces of her on his fingers and around his chest, trilling through him.  “Can you… um… the.  Can you hand me the Phillips head, please?” he stuttered, unable to get his mind settled.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds, her cheeks still bright red, as her mind tried to kick back into gear.  She looked at the tools in the toolbox and back to him. “Is… that’s a tool, not like a horror movie thing, right?”

Roy blinked a few times before breaking out in laughter.  Marinette smiled at his laughter, beyond grateful for the change of topic.  “The one with the cross for a head,” he said motioning toward the screwdrivers.

“Oh,” Marinette nodded in understanding. “Tournevis cruciform,” she muttered to herself as she searched through the tools for the right screwdriver. “Americans and their naming things.”

Roy grinned at her outrage.  “And what do you call it?  The cross screwdriver.” he teased.

“That is literally what it translates to,” she deadpanned.

Roy puckered his lips in an attempt at keeping a smile off his lips and make his annoyed wrinkled brow more believable.  “Oh, well I bow to your superior naming capabilities,” he snarked with a fake bow.

Marinette nodded graciously and passed the screwdriver to him.  “Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

Roy laughed and returned to the transmission, pretending like he could focus on that instead of the kiss they almost had. Marinette watched, almost transfixed as he moved the gears synchronously on the transmission, creating intricate and ever changing patterns.  She pulled her sketchbook and pencil out to capture a sudden idea.

“The wrench?” Roy called out, not looking up from the transmission.  He held out his hand and waited for a few seconds before adding, “Please?”  He waited a little longer before repeating it a bit louder.  “Wrench, please?”  He finally looked up when she still hadn’t handed it to him.  “Marinette?”  He looked over to her concerned.  His face immediately softened when he saw her.

Marinette’s face was frozen in intense concentration on her sketchbook as she drew confidently and without hesitation.  She held the sketchbook out and tilted it slightly. She narrowed her eyes at it and tilted it a different way.  Her mouth curved into a satisfied smirk before she added in more details and notes. Her eyes lit up with inspiration, bright and clear.  She shook her head to get a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, hands too busy committing her inspiration to paper to waste time with such trivialities.  Roy shook his head, mentally berating himself for having backed off before.  She had been right there and leaning toward him.  Maybe Jason and Dick… and Tim and Damian, were right.  He was an idiot.

Before Roy realized what he was doing, he had reached out to tuck it behind her ear, being careful to avoid her cut as his fingers brushed her face.  Marinette jumped at the unexpected contact.  She looked up at him wide eyed but a sheepish look quickly overtook her expression. She looked down in embarrassment, but that only pressed her face further into Roy’s hand, which made her embarrassed blush deepen but not due to embarrassment this time.  “Sorry.  Did you need a tool?”

Roy shook his head.  He smiled and moved his hand slightly so it was cupping her face this time.  “It’s fine. I was enjoying watching you get caught up in inspiration.”

Marinette looked down again and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.  It is probably the most embarrassing face.”

Roy smiled softly at her, his eyes shining with sincerity and fondness.  “No. It wasn’t.  It was cute.”  He took a step closer to her and leaned a bit closer, more intimately.  “I wouldn’t mind seeing it more.”

“More of my too distracted to pay attention to you face?” she smirked and leaned closer to him.

“Any version of your face you’ll let me see. Although I would prefer to see it with fewer cuts,” he frowned at the cut on her cheek as he rubbed a soothing line just below the bruise that had formed around the cut.  He leaned closer to examine the cut until his lips were centimeters from her cheek.  He flicked his eyes to her half lidded ones and leaned to close the distance.

“Hey, guys!” Dick boomed as he came into the room. Marinette and Roy jumped apart, or rather Roy jumped away and Marinette straightened up on the stool, grabbing the workbench to keep from falling off.  “Sorry I’m late.  And sorry I’m here instead of Jason.  He got… caught up in the attack.  Not personally!” he rushed to assure Marinette when her eyes widened and body stiffened.  “I meant he’s dealing with the fallout.  Jason is fine.  He’d just be really, really late and asked if I could come over here instead.  If that’s okay.”

Marinette nodded, but her eyes were still slightly widened.  “Of course. But you’re sure Jason’s okay?”

“Absolutely,” Dick shot her a charming smile.  “He’s just going to need a bit of time to deal with things,” he lied smoothly.  He looked between Marinette and Roy with narrowed eyes and moved between them as he hugged Marinette.  “He really, really wanted to be here with you today.  I think he’s planning on attaching himself to you tomorrow though.”

Marinette chuckled lightly.  “That’s okay.  We’ll have fun doing something.”  Her face suddenly sobered.  “Oh, no, wait.  I have lunch with Duke and Cass tomorrow.  I mean… I think I have lunch with them.  We had planned it, but that was before…” she trailed off, not wanting to go into detail at all, but especially in front of Roy.

“I’m sure you still do,” Dick assured her.  “They’re probably just waiting to get confirmation from you in case the last few days were a bit much and you wanted a break.”

“No!” Marinette exclaimed.  “No.  I’ll text them.  Thanks.”

“But I get you for tonight.  How do you feel about a movie marathon?” he grinned widely, already planning a full night’s marathon with her, Adrien, and Max.  She had to love Disney movies, right?  Who didn’t love Disney movies?

“I like movies,” Roy chirped with a teasing grin.

“No,” he answered sharply.  He turned back to Marinette with a mock sympathetic smile. “You must have been so bored here.”

Roy narrowed his eyes back at him but Marinette jumped up to defend Roy.  “Not at all. It was interesting watching him working on the bike.  I got some good inspiration too.”

Roy raised a pointed eyebrow at him with a smug grin.  “Motorcycles remind her of her grandmother.”

Dick looked back at Marinette who was looking back at Roy with a surprised expression.  “Good memory.”

“I remember important things,” he shrugged.

Dick glared at him.  “Uh huh.  But not to check if things are loaded.”  He looked back at Marinette.  “You’ve got something just there,” he motioned to the cheek Roy had stroked earlier. “You might want to get that grease off.”

“Oh!” Marinette exclaimed grabbing her cheek, almost succeeding in covering the blush that flushed on her cheeks.  “Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

Roy nodded and motioned toward the bathroom. “Just right over there.”

As soon as the door closed, Dick punched Roy’s shoulder.  Roy frowned at him.  “What?”

“What the Hell are you doing?” Dick hissed and motioned toward the bathroom.

“What?” Roy answered rubbing his shoulder.  At least it was just Dick.  If it was Jason, he’d be rubbing his jaw right now.  “Tim dropped her off here.  What was I supposed to do?  Ignore her?”

“You were supposed to not hit on her,” he grumbled.

“That’s just unreasonable,” Roy rolled his eyes and leaned back against the workbench.  He motioned to the bathroom.  “Have you met her? She’s smart and sassy and really sweet.  She's funny and obviously gorgeous.  Who doesn’t want to hit on her?”

“Yeah.  I’ve met her. Didn’t hit on her.” Dick let out a long suffering sigh. “Jesus, Roy!  I’ve had her as a sister for like a week.  I don’t want to lose her because I’m in jail for killing you.”

“You’re her brother, you don’t count in the hitting on her count.  And please,” Roy scoffed, “you’re too good to go to jail for it.”

“True.  Just…” he narrowed his eyes at him and pointed at him threateningly, “if you mess around and hurt her… I’ll choose her over you.  And I won’t forget to load the magazines and Jason will be more than happy to use them.”

“That’s hurtful,” Roy groused.  “One time.  I forgot to load the magazines one time.”

“Yeah, in the middle of a mission!” Dick whisper hissed.

“You survived,” Roy shrugged.  “Stop being such a baby.  But I get it.  I’d choose her over me too.  Or you. But if you were going to kill anyone for hurting her, Riddler wouldn’t still be alive… or Bruce.”

Dick pursed his lips at the reminder of how Bruce had treated Marinette, of everything that had come up the night before. His anger quickly deflating.  He looked toward the bathroom, his eyes softening. They really needed to work harder to support her, to assure her they weren’t holding her at arm’s length. Maybe talk to Bruce about telling her the truth.  That seemed like the only possible way to salvage this.  “How does she seem to be doing?”

Roy shrugged and watched the bathroom door to make sure she wouldn’t walk in on the conversation.  “Actually doesn’t seem too bothered by the Riddler incident.  She’s more anxious about the family knowing.” He pursed his lips and picked up a transmission piece, pretending to examine it.  “Bruce hasn’t said anything or made any attempts as far as she knows.”

Dick sighed and massaged his temples.  “That should surprise me more than it does.” He let out a heavy sigh.  “Last night… dinner didn’t… some things came out that Bruce didn’t know.  Things she had to go through.  He’s beating himself up over it.  Too ashamed to talk to her.”

Roy sighed and shook his head.  Bruce was going to lose her before he even had her at this point.  “That have anything to do with why she’s so unaffected by having been taken captive by one of the most dangerous rogues in Gotham?” Dick’s resigned sigh was enough confirmation for him.  “Fuck,” he grumbled.  “She thinks it’s her fault he doesn’t want to bother with her anymore.”

“Damn it,” Dick grumbled, drawing out the words in frustration.  He ran his hand over his face and collapsed on the stool she had been on earlier.  “Good to know.  Thanks.”

Roy nodded and threw the part back on the workbench.  “How’s Jay doing?”

“He’ll be okay.  Tim got there in time to stop him from going too far, but he’s going to need a few hours, maybe the night to let the Pit Madness recede.  And I think he’s really nervous about showing any part of that to Marinette.”

They both snapped their attention to Marinette when she came back.  “My cheek look better?” she turned her cheek for them to see.  “I mean obviously not the cut.”

“Yeah, you look beautiful.”  Roy assured her and handed her purse to her.  

Dick glared at Roy.  “Could you stop hitting on my sister for five seconds?” he hissed low enough for Marinette not to hear.  He turned to Marinette before Roy could respond.  “Ready to go?  I don’t know about you but I’m hungry.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

Dick walked ahead of her, pretending like he didn’t notice her lag behind. When he was almost out the door, she turned to Roy and gave him a lingering kiss on his cheek.  “Thank you for babysitting me today and for the tour the other day.  I’ve had a lot of fun.”

Roy nodded and handed her his phone with a spot for Fire Flower already started in his contacts.  “If your plans ever get canceled again or you need to hide out or you need to borrow a jacket so you fit in, give me a call, Fire Flower.”

Marinette put her number in and passed it back to him with a grin.  “You have extra you can just loan out?”

Roy grinned back and nodded.  “A few jackets, suit coats, shirts, ties, clean pants, even a few pairs of coveralls, none of which would fit you, but if you ever need them… Or even if you don’t need anything, just want to talk or hang out, let me know.”

“Marinette!  I thought you were ready to go?” Dick yelled.

Marinette shook her head and sighed.  She waved to Roy as she rushed out.  “Thanks again!”

Roy watched her leave until he couldn’t see her anymore.  He let out a deep sigh and collapsed against the workbench. He looked at his phone and quickly sent a text with a smile.

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark

[fairy-writes]

Hello! I'd like to request for a Boku no Hero and Fullmetal romantic matchups, please. I don't have any preferred gender! ☀️

I believe I'm very goofy, charismatic, funny, playful, and a very, VERY energetic person always ready for an adventure! I'm childlike and I become bored easily. Normally I'm happy and cheerful! But I'm also very sensitive, I feel angry often. When the group is bored or sad, I feel like it's always my fault. I’m geeky and playful, but very impacient and stubborn sometimes. I seem very boyish and a little clumsy. I accidentaly hurt myself a lot.

I'm very optimistic and determined. I'm bad at hearing advices, I just do the same thing I wanted to in the start.

I love drawing! I draw on the walls of my room, in my hands and arms and at class all the time. All my notebooks are full of drawings. It’s rare to find notes from school subjects on them actually. I also love travelling and going on adventures! I like to sing and to write stories too. Also, i’m the type of person that adore their favorite color, like, i have to say every single day that my favorite color is red.

I really hate the cold, coloring/paiting my drawings (probably because I'm VERY BAD at it) and, sadly, reading... i also hate theory, I prefer action.

I'll love someone who is my best friend already. I found it hard to interact with someone just for a love interest. True love takes a lot of time and friendship always comes first! I like honest people that work hard for their true dreams and will be by my side in my adventures and have fun with me. Friendship will become a love interest, after that, mutual pining, and after that, my confession lol

The optional infos: I'm 164 cm (almost 5'4'')! I'm a Hufflepuff and my pronouns are she/her! ☀️

Thank you! I Hope this is not too big.

Hello lovely! I hope you like your matchups! 

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood Matchup: I pair you with… Roy Mustang!

Our resident ladies' man (not really, he doesn’t get many dates, he just likes to pretend) is your perfect match! He loves all aspects of your personality! Your funny and goofy side helps him relax after a long day and allows him to be at ease in tense moments. He also loves your optimism as it parallels his pessimism! The both of you are incredibly determined, and it shows in your work ethic!

You doodle all over your papers when working at Central or East Central command, wherever you are working at the moment. Seeing as Roy works closely with you, he sees your doodles all the time and absolutely adores them :) He also loves your singing and writing! The singing helps him relax, and your writing makes your military reports so eloquent and beautiful to read!

Despite being a sort of self-proclaimed ladies’ man, Roy doesn’t get many dates and is the type of person to take it slow in a relationship. He is honest when he works with you (he only lies when he absolutely has to) and is incredibly hard-working! He’s a bit stiff at first, but your bubbly personality helps him loosen up and have fun adventures with you :)

My Hero Academia Matchup: I pair you with… Fukukado Emi!

Ms. Joke is initially introduced to you through Aizawa to get her to leave him alone, lmao. But the two of you hit it off quickly! You are both goofy, playful, charismatic, and energetic! Aizawa lowkey regrets introducing you to each other. But, she helps keep the boredom at bay with her jokes and adventurous attitude!

This gal isn’t huge on advice. Like yes, she’ll give advice to her students on how they can better themselves, but when it comes to adults, she doesn’t give advice unless it’s asked for. And if you don’t follow it? Oh well! No one was hurt, so Ms. Joke doesn’t mind. Ms. Joke loves your drawings! She loves watching you draw and offers her arms as a canvas cause she loves having you close via drawings :) She also loves reading your writing! Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much time to read with being a pro hero AND a teacher, but she always makes time for your stuff.

Ms. Joke is definitely the type to be your friend first before jumping headlong into a relationship. Unfortunately, she’s had way too many people date her for her status as a pro hero, so despite her bubbly and fast-paced personality, she likes taking things slow. So this relationship works out perfectly for you!

[failedintsave]

I tried the MTL pairing generator for rarepair month...aaaand it told me to stay in my lane lol. And then it told me to write some Rachel/Roy Cornickleson which I just don't think I'm ready to take on 🙃 So here's some Skwistok set just before Doomstar that I've been fiddling with.

(gets just a little nsfw near the beginning)

Stages

Everyone handles grief differently.

Skwisgaar groaned as muscular arms pushed him against the wall, the reinforced metal door to his room on the submarine banging shut as they cleared the threshold. Hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place while lips and tongue and teeth worked over his neck. He clung desperately to the body pressed against him, fingers twisting in blue cotton material and yanking it upward. The mouth latched onto his throat pulled away as the t-shirt was hauled over his head and Toki's fevered eyes found his before rushing forward again, mashing their lips together with sloppy abandon. He gripped Skwisgaar by the belt, half dragging him as they stumbled their way to his bunk and collapsed. Breathing came in gasps and sighs as Toki's weight pinned him down into the mattress, the pressure both exhilarating and mollifying, an anchor to hold onto as the life he'd known for so many years turned upside down and twisted away in the wind.

He'd never given much energy to grief. Life was just a punctuated string of losses in the long run. Loss of innocence, loss of trust, loss of opportunities. It was all meaningless, really. In his experience, something new always came along to fill the space so why dwell on mourning what you couldn't have back?

Boots thumped to the floor, kicked off in haste. His shirt was peeled away before sturdy hands lifted his hips to free him of his jeans, calloused fingertips gliding back up his thighs and making him shiver. Toki climbed up to kiss him again, hungrily, as if trying to swallow him whole, their teeth knocking against each other. Skwisgaar ran his hands over every inch of skin he could reach, the hard lines of Toki's shoulders, the raised ridges of overlapping scars on his back, hip bones where they ground down against his own. Heat pooled low in his belly like magma aching to erupt. He wanted this, needed this right now, more than he'd ever needed anything in his life. How long had they danced around this, stealing moments and blaming it later on booze or post-show adrenaline, walking right up to the line and peeking over before backing away again? In the name of preserving band dynamics? A lot of good that had done, they'd still ended up where they are now, Dethklok tipping over the precipice into self-destruction.

Another loss to add to the list.

Toki pulled back, glacier blue eyes raking over Skwisgaar's features with manic light, chestnut locks of hair falling in disarray to frame his face. Skwisgaar reached up and tucked a strand behind his ear and Toki's expression shifted, the wild yearning softened into something gentler, less wolfish. He sat up to kneel between Skwisgaar's legs, hand skimming from his collar bone to his navel and leaving a trail of fire, over the inside of his thigh and dipping beneath, pausing until Skwisgaar breathed his assent, whispered his name.

Fingers tested gingerly, gradually increasing in depth and pressure before he gripped him by the waist and hauled him onto his lap. Skwisgaar canted his hips, lip catching between his teeth at the feel of Toki against him, his pulse hammering in his ears. His head angled back into the pillows and a wordless moan escaped his throat when Toki eased forward, back arching as lightning raced up his spine. Skwisgaar's fingers knotted in the bed sheets as Toki released a shuddering breath over him, rocking into him slowly, building rhythm into a steady push and pull.

Loss of professional boundaries. Definitely not something to be mourned.

The devastating sensation of fullness where they joined drove all coherent thought from Skwisgaar's mind and his eyes rolled back under closed lids, panting nonsense and expletives, begging for release. His toes curled as Toki matched stokes with his hand to the tempo of his thrusts, coaxing him through his climax until tipping over the edge after him with a whining sigh. Call and response, Skwisgaar thought dazedly as his superheated skeleton melted into jelly. When he could open his eyes again, his gaze landed on Toki's face above him, watching him with an openly heartsick expression.

"I… hads to do dat… at least once before dis ams all over." The broken whisper settled over him like a burial shroud.

Skwisgaar shook his head, holding out his arms. "Come heres."

Swallowing thickly, Toki obeyed, winding his arms under Skwisgaar's shoulders and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Skwisgaar shifted to find a comfortable position, their sweat-slick chests sliding against each other as he angled slightly onto one side, hand cradling Toki's skull to keep him near.

"Seem pretties stupids we aments been doing dat dis whole time, honestlies."

Loss of time.

Toki held him tightly and Skwisgaar felt the tremor in his grip. He rubbed his cheek against the crown of the other man's head, humming tunelessly as he waited for him to speak, knowing already the fears plaguing his mind. He'd faced them often enough in his younger days, even if the scenario now was more complicated. It was hard to compare wondering where your next gig, your next meal ticket, might come from to wondering where to go after you'd already stood at the top.

Sniffling preceded the feeling of wetness against his shoulder, Toki mumbling against his skin. "What happens now? Ams we all just gonna says 'fucks you, see ya laters' now dat de band ams done? Even now dat dey tells us we gots to plays music to saves de world?"

Skwisgaar fiddled with a strand of brown hair for a moment before answering. "Well, I don'ts know abouts all dis saves-de-woirld business. But whats I do know ams band break ups. And, euughh, ja dat ams a pretty standords opseratings procedures."

"But does it has to be likes dat? We coulds all stays pals, right?"

"Dat ams...compslickateds." He dropped the lock and let his hand fall to Toki's shoulders. "Somet'ing like dis...people tends to ezpecks yous to euughh, picks sides. It ams messy. And it never warks out, t'ings always comes apart in de end."

Loss of the longest working relationships he'd had in his life.

Toki said nothing, so Skwisgaar continued if only to fill the silence. "But it coulds be worse, you knows? We gots more moneys den god, what's so bad what cants be fixed wif dat?" The statement produced a cold feeling trickling down behind his ribs, like swallowing a heaping spoonful of snow. "Nones of it acktualies matters. Just goes on to da next t'ings."

"I just... don'ts know what to does if dere aments a Dethklok."

"Whatevors you wants! You coulds buy de whole stores of airplane models, or you coulds builds you own splasharoonies water parks. Hell you coulds probablies starts a new bands wif dose guys from dat T'underhorse group."

"No," Toki murmured, face still compressed against Skwisgaar's neck. "I don't wants a new band. Dis was da one."

The possessive satisfaction he felt at those words tied his stomach in guilty knots.

"Ja it ams was a pretty good gigs…"

Toki shifted, laying his head on the pillow next to Skwisgaar's, his forlorn gaze searching his face for answers. Skwisgaar rolled so they were laying face to face, legs still twisted under the sheets.

Not everything was tied up in the feud that caused the band to split. What if it didn't have to be a total loss? Surely there were parts here that could be salvaged.

"Okej...so who says we haves to do anyt'ings at all?"

Toki's brows cinched. "What you means?"

Maybe, just this one thing, he could keep.

Skwisgaar's lips curved with the ghost of a smile. "I's already mades it to de top, ams de fastest guitarist alives...coulds be I shoulds just quits while I gots de title, ja? Retires, takes my ball and goes home wif it."

Toki snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Builds mineself a giant house up in de mountains or somet'ing. Or travels and just fucks off on de resgiduals forever, not worries about a deadlines or demos ever again. Plays guitar just for funs."

He saw his grin mirrored on Toki's face as the other man nodded dreamily.

"Maybe you...comes wif me?" Fluttery nerves tickled behind his sternum. "If you wants to."

Toki's eyes widened. "Wait. Whats?"

Just this. He could be happy with this.

"Y-you means it? You aments just messings with Toki?"

He shook his head. "How long dids we waste before nows? For not'ing. I'm sick ofs waitings. Let's just goes."

A heartbeat passed, and then Toki's mouth was on his again. Less frantic this time, hopeful rather than desperate. He cradled Toki's jaw, taking his time as he returned his affections, deepening the kiss and tracing languid strokes over his neck, his shoulders, his chest. Their limbs wound together in a twisted bramble, bodies drawing tightly together, fitting like puzzle pieces.

A repetitive, discordant riff sounded from the pile of clothes abandoned on the floor and Toki's head jerked away. Flashing an apologetic grin, he rolled away to fish his phone from his pocket, sliding his pants up loosely around his hips.

"Sorries, be rights back!" He whispered, pressing the screen to answer. "Oh hei, Rockso!*

"Hows do you even has signals down here?" Skwisgaar called after him as he stepped into the hall, then flopped back onto the pillows to stare at the ceiling, counting the shiny rivets in the metal plating.

This was doable. Tomorrow they would bury more than just a mentor, they would lay to rest their careers as the biggest metal band in existence. The world at large would mourn their passing, but Skwisgaar wouldn't dwell on what's done and over. Not if he had new prospects to look forward to. Something always came along, and he never looked back.

"I tolds Magnus dat I woulds sit wif hims tomorrow." He heard Toki's muffled voice through the crack he'd left in the door.

A shadow passed over his thoughts at the name, like someone walking across his grave. It was uncomfortable to say the least, to have their former guitarist back in the fringes of their lives. Toki had a habit of finding friendship in questionable places, but where the clown was mostly an annoyance and sometimes a financial drain, his relationship with Magnus left Skwisgaar apprehensive. It didn't ease his mind when Toki insisted the older musician was different now. How could he know? He hadn't lived with the man, hadn't walked on eggshells during every rehearsal or songwriting session, hadn't watched as he plunged a knife into a bandmate.

But Magnus had also saved Toki with his insulin. He'd been there for Toki as a shoulder to lean on when the band had started to fall apart, too preoccupied with their own issues to spare a minute for their youngest member.

So maybe Toki was right. Things change; he'd never expected that a wedge could be driven between Nathan and Pickles far enough to end their friendship in such a catastrophic way, but here they were. And if Magnus still harbored any resentment for the band, their breakup was probably a balm to the old wound of rejection. What else could he wish on them? He was probably loving this.

The door scraped shut and Toki slipped back into the blankets gingerly, as if expecting Skwisgaar to be asleep. When he saw that he was still awake, Toki leaned in with a grin.

"Sorries...now, where was we…?" He murmured, capturing Skwisgaar's lips tenderly. "Oh ja, you was tellings me how we's gonna runs away togedders into de sunsets."

"Pfff. Dat am hardlies what I saids."

More kisses peppered his cheek and jaw. "Dats what I heards."

"Well I always knew yous was tone deafs, I didn'ts realize you ams just all de way hards of hearingks." His arm encircled Toki's back as the brunette nestled in again.

"Tells to me about wheres we gonna goes. Tells me about our house on tops of de mountains."

Skwisgaar snorted. Of the two of them, his was not the more vivid and fanciful imagination. But staring up at the blank canvas that the brushed metal panels of ceiling created, he envisioned a future for them to share. They squabbled playfully over locations and home design styles. They named off outlandish things they would fill their home with, like an even bigger ruby metronome or a trampoline room or an indoor pool shaped like a guitar and filled with champagne. They listed places they'd toured that they wanted to visit again, and locations they hadn't been yet but had always hoped to see.

"Can we gets a cat?" Toki asked suddenly, making Skwisgaar laugh airily.

"If we haves to?" He laughed again as Toki nodded against him. "But I'm not cleaningks up after it, dat ams all you, pal."

"Okei." Toki sighed deeply, settling in more comfortably. "Okei. I feels a lots less scareds now about all dis."

His hand glided up from where it had been resting at Skwisgaar's hip to lay warm over his heartbeat.

"I'll miss Dethklok. A whole lots. But now I t'inks I ams acktualies looking forwards to what comes next."

Still staring at the steel plates above, Skwisgaar grinned at the pictures they'd painted in his mind.

"Ja, me toos."

He covered Toki's hand with his own. However much they stood to lose after tomorrow, his heart felt lighter at what they were about to gain together. There was no reason to dwell on what was gone.

Everyone handles grief differently.

Laying on his bunk, Skwisgaar's eyes roamed the scuffed plate ceiling overhead, lingering on rusted rivets and water stains. The imperfections seemed to move and writhe like crawling insects under the influence of whatever handful of pills Pickles had given him. A half-drained bottle of vodka lay cradled against his chest, the mouth stoppered by his thumb. Fire burned in his belly from the alcohol, but cold fury pulsing through his veins tempered it.

He'd been prepared for Dethklok to end, had even accepted the idea that his career as a guitarist was over, diminished to a hobby. Playing guitar was his lifeblood, his purpose, and he'd been about to let that go. What had he been thinking? How had he gotten so wrapped up in fantasy that throwing away his entire self had seemed like a plausible course of action.

Loss of objectivity. Fortunately it seemed to be temporary.

He took a long pull from the bottle, dribbling a little and not bothering to wipe it away. Stupid Toki, needing to be comforted like a child with make-believe bedtime stories. He couldn't just man up and move on like everyone else, like Skwisgaar had been doing since he was a teen, finding his next audition, his next couch to crash on, his next temporary alliance with subpar musicians to make ends meet. It couldn't have been an easier landing for him either, no concerns about hunger or homelessness or deportation hanging over his head. He was set up for success and still couldn't handle it.

Fucking idiot needed so much attention, so much coddling, he'd even run straight into harm's way to try and make a friend. Of all people, he'd had to choose Magnus, that vindictive bastard. Of course he'd still been carrying a grudge, when had he ever let anything go in the past? And they'd known it.

A pair of divots on the ceiling stared back at him, one dark, one catching the light. Glaring back at him mockingly, winking at his impotent rage.

They'd known. They'd known, they knew, they knew.

Skwisgaar knew. And he'd said nothing.

Then he'd watched again, frozen, as Magnus drove a knife into someone close to him.

Skwisgaar thrashed upright, a strangled roar bursting from his lungs as he flung the bottle at the wall. He kicked at the bedside table bolted to the wall, denting it from below, then spun around to tear the sheets from his bunk and hurl them across the room. This wasn't the trade he'd prepared for, this wasn't the deal he'd made with himself.

His eyes fell on his Explorer propped in the corner. He reached for it, wrapping both hands around the ebony fretboard, holding it like an axe and swinging it against the wall. He bashed it into the floor, the dresser, screaming until his throat was raw and the guitar was cracked into useless chunks of wood and fiberglass connected by twisted strings. He dropped the pieces in a heap, sinking to the ground to lean against the side of his bed, his shoulders heaving with labored panting.

The door of his room scraped open, and in his periphery he saw a figure standing, backlit by the dim red glow in the corridor. Broad-shouldered, straight hair dangling about their head. His heart seized for a moment before the figure spoke, shattering his hallucination.

"What are you doing in here?" Nathan's gravelly voice was cautious.

Skwisgaar didn't turn, eyes still focused on the debris ahead of him. The stainless steel guitar strings seemed to wriggle like worms in grave soil, consuming the corpse of his instrument. He waited until he caught his breath before trying to respond.

"What does it looks like I'm doingks?"

Nathan shifted in the doorway. "Losing your mind."

He chuckled mirthlessly.

Loss of sanity? Maybe.

"You've been locked up in there a while. Maybe you should, you know. Come out here. With the rest of the band."

"Fucks off."

Nathan didn't move. Skwisgaar felt the urge to rage at the other man rise in him, to shout in his face, demand to know why it had taken him so long to patch things over with Pickles, why he let it go so far that he'd upset all of their lives so horrifically. But the feeling passed, his body drained from his previous outburst and from trying to filter a pharmacy's worth of substances through his liver.

"We're gonna find him, you know. Charles has people everywhere looking already."

One shoulder rose and fell in a halfhearted shrug. "Whatevers. Who cares."

They could have been a four-piece. If he really wanted to rage at someone it would be his past self. How different would things be right now if he'd never given that gutter rat a chance after missing his audition time? How much of what they achieved would they have really missed out on? How many rerecording sessions and stupid arguments and publicized blow outs could have been avoided? What would they really have been missing?

He certainly wouldn't mourn the loss of a constant source of annoyance. Of an immature tag-along with a hair trigger temper. Of a loud and boisterous whirlwind of silliness and color and sincerity.

Loss of his shadow. Loss of his muse. Loss of his best friend. Loss of his future. Loss of…

Loss of…

He couldn't breathe.

"Just leaves me alone. Please." He gritted out, proud of the steadiness of his voice as his stomach began to roil and his eyes prickled with tears.

Nathan hesitated. "Should I...close this?"

Skwisgaar nodded and after another moment the steel frame clanged shut. His vision blurred as tears welled and spilled over, his breath returning in short gasping puffs which rolled over into sobs that rattled his frame.

They'd had one day. Not even a day. An evening. Hours.

He wept until he was sick, vomiting clear liquor and not much else onto the floor next to the remnants of his guitar. He wept until his tears were spent and his head throbbed in tandem with his heart, even though he didn't understand how the muscle still carried a beat when the rhythm had been taken away.

Eventually he had nothing left. His face felt swollen, his eyes were gritty. Skwisgaar rolled to his hands and knees, avoiding the puddle of sick as he rocked up onto wobbly legs. He looked at the door, wondering if the others were still awake. If they were sitting in the lounge, drowning their sorrows. He felt like he wore a lead weight around his neck, bowing under the pull of it. It might be better just to sleep.

He turned to the naked mattress, but a scrap of blue on the floor near the foot of the bed caught his attention. A faded cotton t-shirt lay where it had been discarded. Skwisgaar stared at it for several long moments. He stepped closer to the bed, to the shirt.

And kicked it underneath the frame and out of sight before turning for the door.

He'd never given much energy to grief. Life was just a punctuated string of losses in the long run. Loss of purpose. Loss of self. Loss of connection. Loss of…

It was all meaningless, really. So why dwell on mourning what you couldn't have back?

[twistedtranslations]

Kalim Al-Asim - Lacking vigor

You can unlock this story by getting Kalim’s R Scary Dress

Translation under the cut

Courtyard

Kalim: Even though it's just the surface of the well, I can see my reflection pretty well. Okay, let's see how this looks… Ahem…! Rawr!… Hm, I have to raise my arms more. Rawr!… No, I have to put more power into it. And… Awhoo! Are these the right vibes? This is difficult…

Rook: Hello, Roi d'Or! How do you do!

Kalim: Aaah?! Rook?! Where the heck did you come from?!

Rook: Oops, I'm sorry for surprising you. I thought I heard a lovely puppy howl. Whilst I was watching from the tree’s shadow , I saw your troubled face and decided to have a talk.

Kalim: When did you approach me…? I totally didn't notice you.… But I sound like a puppy… That's no good… Argh…

Rook: Judging by your clothes… were you practicing your costume performance?

Kalim: Yes. Our dorm is supposed to look like werewolves.

Rook: I see. Those wonderful clothes totally suit you. Très bien!

Kalim: Thanks! But I feel like the costume itself is lacking vigor. You know there will be many people from outside the college that will visit on Halloween, right? I want all the visitors to enjoy a proper scary Halloween. But I don't really know how to summon the intensity of a werewolf~

Rook: You have such a praiseworthy spirit... It's beauté! I want to lend you my strength. Would you allow me to help you?

Kalim: You sure? Thanks, you saved me!

Rook: No need to thank me. So, I have one suggestion, but why don't you try imitating a real wolf? I used to play a lot with the wolves from the Afterglow's Savannah, so I'm familiar with their behaviour. I can teach you. If you were to imitate those sublime beings, you surely will draw upon a dreadful strength!

Kalim: Yes, that's a nice idea! Please teach me!

Rook: Oui. Let's start with mimicking their expression. Your feelings and spirit should shine through it. If you get better at the expression, you will naturally get better at its behaviour.

Kalim: Gotcha. What kind of face should I specifically make?

Rook: First, furrow your eyebrows. Then squint your eyes. Pretend you are staring daggers at your prey.

Kalim: *stares* Like this?

Rook: Yes, not bad. Now you close your mouth, show your gums and clench your teeth.

Kalim: Grrr… Like this?

Rook: Great! You look much more intimidating. Let's match your posture.

Kalim: Okay! I'll imitate the movement of a wolf. My upper body should be lower than my lower body, as if I'm ready to jump out anytime at my prey. Putting all the energy in my thighs… Ggh, maintaining this kind of posture is kind of tiresome…

Rook: Endure a bit longer. Lastly, we'll work on your attack. A beast stalks its prey closely until it's the appropriate time to catch it off guard. Jump at me as if I were your prey.

Kalim: Understood. Here I go… GRAAAWR! … Whaddya think? Did I look like a wolf?

Rook: Marvelous! It was fantastic! If you were to approach a prey with that speed, they would stand no chance! But… you still have to become more wolflike! Next is…

/

Kalim: Awhoo!… Rook! Hey, this howl was pretty cool, wasn't it?

Rook: Ah! That spirit wouldn't lose to those of the wolves of the Afterglow's Savannah. I almost wanted to draw my bow at you.

Kalim: Hahaha, go easy on me. I don't think I could escape if you were my enemy.

Rook: Fufu… it would be fun to see if you could, but let's save that for another time. Now the last thing is to test it out in the field.

Kalim: In the field? Dunno what you mean, but I'll do my best!

/

Jack: I got all the materials for the decorations… okay. Now that’s finished. I should go back to the dorm. Hm? What's that?

Kalim: GRAAAAWR!

Jack: ?!?!?!

Rook: Beauté! Kalim, this was the most wonderful of them all! A beautiful performance!

Kalim: Yes! That resulted from my special training! Thanks, Rook!

Jack: Kalim?! And Rook… What was up with that?

Kalim: Haha, sorry for surprising you! In order to scare people for Halloween, we had to round off the practice by scaring someone. What do you think? Did I resemble an actual wolf?

Jack:… Y-Yeah. I think it was pretty good…

Rook: Oh, Jack. Your tail is wagging between your legs. You look like a frightened dog.

Jack: W-Who looks like a frightened dog! I wasn't scared!

Kalim: Wow, to scare you who can turn into a wolf with your unique magic… it means that my power frightened even the real thing. I did it! Awhooooo!

Jack: I said I wasn't scared!

[justcourttee]

So you are one of my favorite writers for the Maribat Fandom and this is litterally like just on the edge getting ready to dive into barely there territory. . . but imagine Chloe "Queen B" Bourgeois deciding that Roy Harper is her future husband because he is the only one her age with the potential to even hyphenate Queen. She /will/ get her title in her civilian life if she has to drag Roy to the courthouse herself. Cue shenanigans and chaos friends to lovers lol

You’re so sweet and I hope I did your prompt justice. I love the Roy X Chloe energy and this is just something I could picture cannon Chloe trying. I hope you enjoy! @risaxtitan

The Future Mrs. Queen

The day Oliver Queen announced to the world in that fated press conference that he was adopting Roy Harper, the younger boy had no idea how much his life was about to change.

He was still floating on Cloud 9 as he stepped off of the stage and into the crowd where his friends awaited him.

“Dude, congrats! It’s like all official now!” Adrien clapped him on the back, causing him to stumble forward a little.

“It still feels unreal.”

“Tt, it’s not like your his blood son, but I suppose this will be a good opportunity for you.”

Roy cocked his head to the side as he tried to debate if Damian was congratulating him or not. A small smack echoed following an ‘oof’ as Marinette’s bright smile entered his view.

“I’m so happy for you Roy! Conner, Jon, and Wally wanted to come with us, but you know how it goes. Always a mission somewhere.”

Roy shook his head, the smile still plastered across his face.

“It’s fine Mari, it’s not like today was the real thing. This was just a press conference. They were there when we officially signed the papers and that’s what matters in my book.”

“So, like, is your last name officially Queen now?”

Roy’s attention snapped to his left where a familiar blonde stepped out from behind Adrien. She fiddled with the ends of her curled hair, her mischievous blue eyes locked onto his. Certainly if a beautiful girl like her had told him her name, he wouldn’t have forgotten it.

“I suppose so. It’s officially Roy William Harper-Queen.”

Her smile was blinding as he nervously reached back to rub the back of his very warm neck.

“Oh Gods, we are so dense! I’m sorry Roy! This is my friend Chloe Bourgeois! Adrien was supposed to introduce you two earlier, but we all got separated in the crowd. She’s a big fan of Oliver Queen, so when she heard my dear friend was getting adopted by him-”

“I just had to come.” She stepped in front of Marinette, reaching forward to grab his hand. “Did you know that I tried to legally change my name to Queen? But my mother wouldn’t let me! She’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Something about it wouldn’t be good for my modeling career or whatever. But now, you can help me with that! Can’t be bad if it’s my husband’s last name.”

Roy stumbled out of her grasps, his entire face matching the red on his head.

“Hu-husband? Girl, we just met. You can’t go around saying things like that!”

Chloe waved off his embarrassment as her blinding smile pulled into a mischievous smirk.

“Like it or not Roy Harper-Queen, you will be my husband, even if I have to drag you to the courthouse myself!”

“Yeah right blondie.” He couldn’t help the stutter in his voice as he hid behind Damian’s chuckling figure.

There was no denying how attractive she was, but he would be damned if he let a pretty blonde step in and seal his fate.

“Maybe not today, but you’re going to love me Roy Harper-Queen, just you wait.”

The flip of her hair felt like a slap across his face as he watched her retreating figure dragging Marinette with her.

“So like, Can I be your best man? I know that you’ve known the other’s longer and all, but like we are always hanging out together! That has to count for something.”

Adrien’s wide eyes and pout earned a slight chuckle from the redhead as his eyes trailed back to where his friends stood.

“Sure Agreste, I’m sure everyone won’t mind one bit. You might have to fight Tim-”

“Tt, is that supposed to be a threat?”

Adrien and Roy shared a look before bursting into laughter. Roy slung his arms around the two boys as they headed off into the crowd. He wouldn’t see Chloe for another couple of weeks, but that didn’t stop the blonde from monopolizing his every thought.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“C’mon Arsenal, you really going to let your ass get beat by a little girl?”

Roy sneered as he pushed himself off the matt for the third time that day.

When Dick asked if he wanted to train with the Batclan, Roy was over the moon. Batman hardly let anyone into his special training spot without him being there. He didn’t think twice when he put the motorcycle in park outside of Wayne Manor. He already knew what to expect, Dick’s flexibility, Stephanie’s strategy, Damian’s rage. What he wasn’t expecting was to see a certain blonde and his two friends.

“She’s not beating my ass Stephanie, I just don’t want to hurt her.”

Dick had a hard time holding back his laugh as he leaned on Marinette for support. A hand shot into his line of view as he accepted Chloe’s helping pull him the rest of the way to his feet.

“C’mon mon chéri, your face is pretty too, but it’s not going to make me pull my punches. Give it to me, cherry.” She sent a wink in his direction as she set up for another spar.

If you asked Roy later, the red in his cheeks was from the anger at being called a cherry, but anyone could see the blush betraying him.

Chloe darted forward, dodging his first swing before smacking his butt.

“HEY!”

Roy pushed himself out of her reach as Stephanie and her shared a fist bump. There was no way he was getting out of training alive. He needed a way to finish this as quickly as possible.

“Blondie, what if we make a bet?”

Chloe raised her eyebrow at him, encouraging him to continue as she set herself back up in the circle.

“The next one of us to pin the other gets to pick the next hang out spot. I know it’s your turn in the rotation, so if you win, nobody will put a restriction on your choice.”

Her eyes glistened dangerously as a collective gasp sounded behind them.

“Hey, Roy, are you sure you want to do that? She-”

“Shut it Agreste. The boy has named his terms, no restrictions for me, or he gets to steal my turn. I’ll gladly accept Ginger.”

A sudden shift in the atmosphere was easily noticeable. Inadvertently, a shiver went down his back as every hair on his body stood in high alert. Her first strike was quick, he barely lifted his arms up in time to block it before she had hopped backwards, ready to hit again.

He thought he was the one holding back before, but clearly he was underestimating. Here she was, no longer holding back, toying with him as if he was nothing more than her prey. It was a bit terrifying.

Just as he extended his arm to try and make contact, Roy suddenly found himself on his back, her knee at his throat.

“God, when did you even knock my feet out?”

Her eyes were dancing with humor as she slowly stood, offering her hand to the boy below.

“We tried to warn you, my friend. Chloe doesn’t do competition, she destroys them.”

Adrien offered his hand as well and together the two blondes heaved him to his feet. Marnette shook her head solemnly as she and Dick mock prayed for Roy’s fate.

“So, no restrictions huh? That means overseas is fair game.” Chloe placed a hand gently on Roy’s shoulder sending a chill down his spine. “Guess tomorrow, we are going to Paris, France. Richard, is there a Zeta-Tube that does overseas?”

Dick finished his mock prayer before sending a nod in her direction.

“Perfect. Marinette, tell your little gloomy boyfriend and Timothy that we will be taking a day trip tomorrow, to the city of love.”

She sent a wink to Roy as she stepped out of the rink to grab her towel. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t ignore the racing in his heart all from one little comment.

“You are falling so hard, my friend!” Roy flinched as Dick threw his arm over his shoulder, sharing a fist bump with Adrien.

“I am not! I barely know her! We’re like acquaintances, at most she’s just a friend.”

Adrien stiffened as he bit back his laughter.

“Just you wait, after tomorrow, you’ll be questioning everything you know.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Roy was indeed questioning everything, like his sanity, as he stepped out of the tube and onto the tallest platform of the Eiffel Tower. Taking a quick step back from the edge, he found himself pressed against the cool metal.

“Isn’t it like illegal to be this high up?”

Chloe’s giggle filled the air as she smacked his arm lightly.

“Of course it is, for normal people that is. We can’t just have everyone using the Zeta tubes ginger.” Her fingers curled into his hair as she gave it a light ruffle.

“Tt, man up Harper. Even if you fall, it’s not like you’d hit the ground before someone here saved your sorry ass.”

A small ‘oof’ echoed from where Damian stood as Marinette stepped out of the tube.

“You didn’t even hear what I said!”

“True,” she shrugged, a smug smile pulling at her lips. “But I assume you were making fun of Roy.”

Damian huffed under his breath as he snaked his arm around her waist, drawing her into his side. Roy was never sure how someone like Damian could have landed a sweet angel like Marinette, but if it meant he had a constant guardian angel, he could care less.

“Where’s Adrikins?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘I don’t want to be a third wheel and neither does Tim.’”

Chloe rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the sparkle from the new information.

“Looks like it’s a double date!” She gripped Roy’s arm pulling him from his safety. “You wouldn’t leave me alone to those two annoying lovebirds would you Harper?”

Roy gulped nervously as his eyes darted between the couple and the blonde hanging off of him. With a sigh of defeat, he nodded, allowing her to pull him closer to the edge.

“I hope you’re ready Harper because if you survive today, there’s no way you won’t fall for me.”

Without warning, Chloe used all her strength to push him off the platform. The scream caught in his throat as the wind rushed past him. Some first date! Here she was trying to kill him within the first five minutes!

A flash of yellow flew past him, catching his attention briefly before an arm yanked him out of midair. This time, the scream managed to slip out, but instead of fear, he felt instant relief as he flew through the air pinned to Queen Bee’s side.

“There was an easier way of doing this Chloe!” He tried to shout over the wind but it felt useless. The only indication that she might have heard his pleas came from the sideways smile she flashed him as the came to a halt in an alleyway.

As his feet touched to ground, his legs instantly gave out. On his hands and knees, Roy reassured himself that this was safe, in solid ground. Moments later, a flash of pink blinded him as Marinette and Damian landed in front of him.

“What’s wrong Harper? You look a little green. I thought that was Oliver’s color.”

Roy’s middle finger only seemed to fuel the egotistical smirk Damian bestowed on him.

“If that was too much, I can’t wait to see how you handle the rest of the day.”

His eyes widened as he tried to imagine what could be worse than freefalling a few hundred feet from the highest structure in Paris. Little did he know, he would soon get his answer.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Bourgeois.” He tried to keep his voice steady as he offered his hand to her, but the condescending stare made him want to crumble.

“What do you expect me to do? Shake your hand? Honey, you may have been adopted into money, but you are not money. I do not touch any person that is worth less than I am.”

She turned her back briskly as Roy slowly dropped his hand, unsure of whether to be insulted or not.

“Mom, Roy is my friend, can’t you be nice?”

Her mother’s cold glare rested on Chloe. Roy had no idea how she managed to stand her ground. He wanted to crumble for her.

“You are lucky I let you into my workshop after you have missed the past three fittings. When I said you could move to America with the Marianne kid, I expected you to still make time for the business. Should I begin looking for your replacement?”

The tension between the two of them was deadly. Roy wanted to step in, tell her mother to back off, that Chloe was a hero who didn’t always have time for fashion, but somehow, he figured it would only make it worse.

“No mother, I am here now am I not? Let us work quickly so that I can return home.”

Her tone was icy as she stepped forward, holding out her arms for her mother to remeasure. Roy shifted from foot to foot as he held back his tongue. Her mother commented on her weight gain, complained that she was going to begin to fat to be her model anymore. She commented on her studies, or lack of, and on her being a class d hero compared to Superman.

It was to quietest he had ever seen Chloe Bourgeois.

“If that will be all mother, Roy and I have to meet up with Damian and Marinette.”

Her mother waved her off. Not a single love you, not even a real goodbye. Roy was sure his face matched his hair by the time they had set foot back into the streets.

“So, Mari’s parent's house isn’t too far from here. Wanna swing over?”

It was as if a switch flipped. Back was the flirty social butterfly that he had gotten to know over the past couple of weeks.

“Chloe.”

“C’mon carrot top, swinging really isn’t a bad way to transport. It’s quick and effective.”

“Chloe.”

“Don’t be a chicke-”

“Chloe.”

He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he knew what she was trying to do.

“Chloe, why do you let her treat you like that?”

Her lips were pressed into a tight line as she turned, taking a step away from the building.

“Chloe, you don’t have to pretend that it didn’t happen. I’m not going to tell anyone, it’s just, the Chloe I saw in there is nothing like the one I’ve come to know.”

“Well, maybe all you know is a lie.”

Her voice was quiet as she took off at a brisk pace down the street. It took Roy a second to process before he took off after her. Gently, he pulled her arm until she came to a stop once more.

“Then let me get to know the real Chloe. After all, I can’t marry someone I don’t know!”

She laughed half-heartedly at his joke, her smile weak.

“She isn’t very good with her emotions and neither am I. I know that she cares, hell, she wouldn’t let me explore this hero side of me if she didn’t think I had potential. But she always puts business first. I never wanted to go into business with her because she can’t separate family and employees. But I need the money. Daddy won’t let me touch my trust fund until I am secure on my own.”

Roy nodded, a number of things falling into place.

“Why don’t you work for Oliver or Bruce like the rest of us?”

Chloe shrugged, her fingers absentmindedly reaching for his.

“They have offered before, but I really feel like the way to her heart is through the family business. I know she wants to leave it to me one day and if I abandon it now, she might reconsider, and honestly, that would hurt her more than me. She’ll never say it to my face, but it would mean the world to me if I could be her legacy.”

A moment of silence passed, and then two as Roy admired the determination that crossed her face. Somehow, it made her more beautiful than she already was. He hadn’t even noticed how close they had gotten until a soft cough snapped him back to reality.

“Well, we only left you for like two hours. Is this a new development?”

Marinette and Damian shared a smirk as Chloe dropped his hand as if it was burning her. She tried to pull up her scarf, but it was too late. The red on her cheeks were burning, matching his he was sure.

“I don’t know what you are referring to Dupain-Cheng. Let’s head back to the tower. A certain blonde must feel my wrath.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As Roy laid in bed that night, his thoughts kept wandering back to that moment.

She was so close, her lips were so close, so full, so red. They were drawing him in and if Marinette hadn’t stopped them..

“Ughh,” he buried his red face into his pillow, willing his pounding heart to still.

He rolled over to where his phone sat, the dark screen bugging him. Not a single text from her after they returned, not even one from Marinette or Damian teasing him. Reaching out, he lifted the phone toward his face.

Clicking on his photos, the most recent one lit up his entire screen, sending his heart into another fury. Chloe had borrowed his phone, leaving several adorable selfies that he only found a couple hours later.

Not that he wanted to admit it to anyone, but maybe he could admit to himself that just maybe, he was already head over heels for Chloe Bourgeois.

Just as he moved to place it back onto his charger, a text message pinged.

‘Still awake carrot top?’

Roy couldn’t help the smile that tore across his face.

‘Depends. Whose asking blondie?’

‘You’re ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Now open your window, my arm is getting tired.’

Instantly, Roy shot up as he opened his window. Looking around, he couldn’t find her. He was ready to close it when his instinct told him to look up. Sure enough, Queen Bee sat dangling, motioning for him to move out her way.

With one great heave, Chloe swung into his room, dropping her transformation before her feet even touched the ground.

“Miss me that much?”

The sound of his own voice was foreign as his wide smile was certain to leave his cheeks sore in the morning.

“Oh don’t get full of yourself Harper. I just wanted to thank you for today.”

“Mhmm, this seems mighty personal for a thank you.” He took a step forward, his stomach flipping multiple times.

“I may have also wanted to see you. After all, no text, no call. How is a girl supposed to feel after you almost kiss her?”

She stepped forward closing the gap between them, the smirk on her face as graceful as ever.

“I could say the same thing about you. Running off to another man after spending a day in the city of love with me?”

Hestitanly, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, basking in the feeling of how soft her skin felt against his palm.

“Harper, I want to be to future Mrs.Queen, so what do you say? The courthouse is still open in Paris, we can go right now.”

Roy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. Gently, he stroked the side of her cheek, admiring her every feature. Leaning forward, he heard her breath hitch in her throat right as their lips were a mere inch apart.

“How about we start with a first date? A real date?”

Chloe’s warm breath tickled his lips as his pounding heart awaited her answer.

“I suppose Mrs. Queen will have to wait, I’ll pick you up, tomorrow Harper. Be ready.”

Just as quickly as he leaned in, she lept back, already calling her transformation. Racing to the window, she looked over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss before slinging away. Hesitantly, he approached the window, watching her retreating figure, his heart still racing a million miles a minute.

It started off a soft chuckle, but it soon grew. With a grand smile, Roy returned to his bed, his thoughts all centered around one blonde. Marriage was sounding less and less like the scary thought he had when he first met her. He wasn’t sure the exact moment that it sounded so good, but he didn’t care.

After all, Chloe Harper-Queen had a nice ring to it.

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[fullmetalscullyy]

Royai prompt: Are you flirting with me, Colonel?

thank u sm for the prompt!! it was so fun to delve into this even if i can’t flirt to save my life lmaooo hope u enjoy some royai banter and roy just trying to make riza smile uwu

rated: t | words: 1991 | tags: wedding, alcohol, romance, flirting

read on: ao3 | ffnet

The atmosphere in the room was electric as Roy made his way through it. The party was in full swing and the dancefloor was filled with people, dancing their cares away and having a good time.

Roy watched as Edward danced with Winry in the centre of the dancefloor. Alphonse and Mei were beside them, all four laughing together as they moved in time to the music. Havoc was trying to impress Catalina with his “moves” but they weren’t very impressive. He looked quite hopeless, unable to find the beat properly, but he was still having a good time and that was all that mattered. Catalina laughed with him though and the way she hung onto his arm told Roy that it didn’t really matter. She was impressed by him despite his awful timing with music. Fuery and Breda were deep in conversation with Falman and his wife, talking animatedly with red rosy cheeks, flushed from the alcohol and their amusement.

It was a wonderful scene to witness. It made Roy smile widely as he wandered over to where his companion was waiting for him, a glass in each hand.

Riza was sitting at the table they’d been allocated for the meal, opting to remain there and watch, pleased, as everyone had fun and celebrated Edward and Winry’s wedding.

The dress she was wearing was high backed and formed a collar around her throat. It was a pale pink colour and fell down to her ankles, swishing mesmerizingly every time she walked. It also revealed her shoes which matched the colour of the dress perfectly. The heel on them was small but it was still enough to give her an extra inch in height. On her wrist there was a silver bracelet she’d received as a gift “a long time ago”. Roy had bought her it for her birthday once. He’d been surprised to see her wearing it and Riza had just smiled warmly at him once he noticed and recognised the piece of jewellery, saying nothing more on the matter.

Taking a deep breath, Roy tried to collect himself as he approached her. She was the epitome of beauty and grace today and it was extremely distracting. But in the most wonderful of ways.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?” Roy grinned and dropped his voice as deep as he could, changing it completely.

The effect worked because Riza turned around at the surprised interruption. It was clear she didn’t recognise who it was who’d approached her. Once she realised though her shoulders fell, and she shook her head fondly at his antics.

“Is this seat taken?” He continued his charade, pleased to have gotten such a surprised reaction from her from his joke.

She rolled her eyes and said nothing. Roy did manage to catch the smile she tried to hide though once she looked away.

“A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be left sitting alone at a party such as this,” he added, speaking lowly as he handed her the wine glass in his left. “You should shoot the bastard who left you all alone. How rude of him.”

“Are you flirting with me, Colonel?” The Lieutenant lifted a disapproving eyebrow that strongly hinted that he better not be. “Well,” she smirked, “are you trying to?”

“You wound me, Hawkeye.” He clutched at his chest for dramatic effect. “So what if I am?” His reply was nonchalant as he settled into his chair and took a sip of his whisky. It went down smooth, settling inside his chest and spreading warmth across it.

“I would have to disapprove, of course.” Her tone gave nothing away so Roy tilted his head so he could get a better read on her out the corner of his eye.

“You would ‘have to’, huh?”

“Of course, sir,” she replied evenly. Her wine glass lifted to her perfectly painted lips and Roy was distracted for a moment as he watched her move. “It would be highly unprofessional, wouldn’t it?”

Roy hummed noncommittally, pulling himself out of his distracted thoughts.

“In response to your violent proposal,” she added, “lucky for you, my weapon is concealed, and I don’t intend to remove it at a friend’s wedding, sir.”

That interested Roy. He hadn’t seen a weapon anywhere on her person. But then, Roy thought dumbly, that was the whole point.

Damn this alcohol and your ability to be so easily distracted by her. Not that he really minded that last part though.

“Like you said, it’s a wedding. It’s where people show their love for one another,” he shrugged.

“By trying poor pickup lines on me? Now you’re begging me to shoot you,” she deadpanned, and Roy laughed to himself as he watched the rest of the room. “At least if I do it will keep you quiet.”

“Well, I can turn it on more if you’d like me too?” He flashed an excited smile at her.

Riza groaned in response. She pressed a hand to her face. “Please don’t.”

“So, do you come here often, Ma’am?” His voice dropped to the same deep one he’d used before as he joked with her. It resulted in a sideways glare from Riza.

“That’s another poor effort. Even from you.”

“So, it’s not working?”

She scoffed. Loudly. “Not one bit.”

He sighed dramatically. “Darn.”

“I would’ve expected better than that from the likes of you.”

“Well, I thought it was funny,” he snickered, thoroughly enjoying their banter.

“You would.” There was no real ire in her eyes, nor irritation. Just fondness as she shook her head at him.

“All right,” he relented, lifting his hands in surrender, “I’ll stop.”

“I think that would be best, sir.”

Looking over, he was worried she really was annoyed at him now, but her expression was neutral. However, there was a hint of a smile on her face and she shook her head minutely as she placed her glass back on the table.

“Your flirting is so terrible that I cannot bear to listen to it any longer,” Riza added after a beat. One corner of her mouth quirked up into a smirk as she laughed at his surprised expression. “I can’t believe you actually use those on your dates.” She was enjoying teasing him.

His jaw had gone slack and he huffed in mock indignation. “It wasn’t that bad,” he joked, pretending to be sullen.

“It was torture.”

“Hush, you,” he glared at her.

“Is that an order, sir?”

The mood of the conversation shifted. Roy refocussed his attention on Riza as he picked up her husky tone. She looked at him over the rim of her glass. Her smile was playful and her eyes were sparkling with amusement. However there was something else in there too. Something that wasn’t completely innocent.

Roy swallowed. “Do you want it to be?” He was dumbstruck suddenly, left reeling by the wanting look in her eyes.

Her expression broke down and she started to laugh. Roy blinked and was snapped out of the spell she’d cast upon him with just a single look and one suggestive question.

“What?” He recovered quickly then frowned at her laughter.

“That’s how you do it, sir.” She’d leaned in close to speak to him softly and Roy was caught off guard by the wonderful smell of her perfume that wafted his way.

“You played me,” he cried as loudly as he dared. No one was around but it still wouldn’t do to draw attention to them both loudly.

She giggled. Riza actually giggled. Once more, Roy was rendered mute. All he could do is stare at her as she winked at him playfully and nudged his knee with her own underneath the table.

“I’m simply better at it than you. Clearly,” she snorted.

Roy huffed and crossed his arms over his chest with a scowl.

“Don’t feel bad, sir.” Her neutral tone was back however she still looked far too pleased with herself. “We all have our strength and weaknesses.”

He muttered to himself underneath his breath.

“But,” she sighed, “I suppose we should stop. I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation any more than I already have.”

“You are relentless today, Lieutenant,” he muttered.

“You said it yourself. Call it payback for leaving a lady alone by herself at a party.”

He uncrossed his arms and sat up straighter in his chair. “I didn’t say that.”

She narrowed her eyes at him with a smile. “Yes you did.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I said a pretty lady.”

The skin of her nose and cheeks turned a shade pinker after his compliment. Riza coughed and looked away from him but Roy could see her hiding her smile behind the rim of her glass.

“And that was the truth,” Roy added, tilting his body over towards her and dropping his voice low. “I wasn’t joking when I said that.”

“Sir,” she scolded lightly.

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Just telling the truth,” he defended.

Her mouth snapped closed and she was silent for a moment. “Hush, you,” she muttered finally, cheeks still pink.

“Are you telling me to lie, Riza?” He acted scandalised, opening his mouth in shock at her suggestion.

“Fine,” she relented, looking around their vicinity to see if anyone could overhear, but there was no one to be found. “I’ll admit, it is nice to hear.” She mumbled it so quietly that Roy had to lean forwards to hear her.

“I’ll just have to tell you at every opportunity I can then.”

A warning look was shot his way.

“And I’ll do it, too,” he grinned brightly. “You know I will.”

“Maybe I will extract my weapon.” She lifted a hand to her chin and tapped it with one finger as she pondered the thought.

The two fell silent, laughing quietly together as all joking was dropped for the moment. Her eyes lingered on his for a moment longer and Roy couldn’t look away no matter how hard he tried.

“Thank you, Roy,” she murmured.

“For what?”

“For being so good to me.”

“It’s what you deserve,” he replied simply. “If I could show you it every day then I would.”

“I know,” she reassured him with an appreciative look. “I would do the same.”

“You already know you own this,” he added quietly. He stretched above his head but as his hands lowered he tapped the left side of his chest above his heart, feigning that it was just a tic of his. “That will never change.”

Riza’s hand slowly moved underneath the tablecloth, as if she was moving to fix her dress. She tapped his knee with the back of her hand and Roy slid his own hand underneath it too. Riza latched onto it tightly, giving it a hard squeeze of gratitude. Roy smiled at her, lost in her eyes, and stroked his thumb over the skin on the back of her hand. Suddenly, everything else just fell away. The party, the noise, the music, it was all gone. It was just the two of them.

Subtly looking around one final time, Riza deemed it was safe to speak what was on her mind. Still, her glass was lifted to her lips so her mouth was hidden from the rest of the room, but Roy could still see it moving. She paused before she took a drink.

“I love you,” she breathed.

Roy squeezed her hand tightly in his. Then, he extracted it from her hold but didn’t let Riza move far. He guided her hand to rest flat atop his knee. The warmth from her palm seeped into his trousers, making him smile to himself. Maintaining eye contact, he drew a love heart on the back of her hand and placed his own atop hers, covering it completely.

“That’s a new one,” she commented softly.

He grinned at her. “I like to keep things fresh, Lieutenant. And I return your sentiment. Wholeheartedly.”