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bluboothalassophile · 5 years

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Happy Birthday!

Jason had missed a single person in his self-imposed exile; and he would sooner boil his tongue in hot oil than ever admit it. Because admitting it would mean that he was welcoming the fucking Bats back into his life again, and he was not. No. No he was not. He would not deal with Bat-drama of any sorts for a third time in his life. He wasn’t foolish enough to do that; despite being stupid enough to get caught by little bird after stealing her mind.

However, he was already east coast, and he was kind of needing to pass through Gotham on a lead, so he kind of didn’t have a problem with doing a bit of evasion and spying. It wasn’t like it could be harder than what he did as Red X and besides, it wasn’t like Bats would be expecting him so they wouldn’t be looking for him.

Which was what he told himself as he lay there scouting the layout of the Manor through his scope.

Dickhead was still in San Fran, Baby Bird and Demon Spawn were here though, and he watched as Alfred handed them their lunches and loaded them into the car. Selina was there, pregnant, waving off Bruce who was on the phone. Cass and Steph appeared as if by magic, and received a scolding about running before they were handed lunches and herded into the car. Jason smirked, this would be so easy.

He watched B wave off Selina and Alfred before getting in the driver’s seat and starting down the drive. Selina waited a bit before she darted for a motorcycle, leaping onto a bike, grabbing a helmet and racing out the gate. Alfred stood there looking aloofly vexed and Jason took that moment to move. He was swift, sneaking onto the property via the old oak, looking around he saw the motion sensors he had hacked earlier to do this visit. Pausing he waited a moment, watching the grounds. There wasn’t much in the way of staff here, never had been, but there was enough to make him pause.

B always had a few gardeners on hand but that was it.

Not sensing or seeing anyone he made his way for the house, getting to the kitchen door he almost yelped when it was opened by Alfred, who raised a grey brow at him.

“If you are finished with your attempt at sneaking, you might come in for a spot of tea and biscuits,” Alfred said primly.

“Heyya Alfie,” he smiled.

“Master Jason,” Alfred’s lips twitched a bit, but he let Jason in regardless. “I must admit your skills have vastly improved.”

“Thanks,” he nodded.

“I would not have known you were here, if it were not for the date,” Alfred remarked.

“Well…” he started but then shrugged. “Hear from Bazza and Dave Boy?” he asked taking a seat at the kitchen table.

“They have sent words, for both of us,” Alfred smiled as he handed Jason the envelopes.

“I…”

“These are from your family, and this is from me,” Alfred said.

“Hey now! Today wasn’t for that!” Jason protested.

“Pish-posh,” Alfred dismissed as he put on the kettle. “I believe that we share the date,” he said kindly.

“I brought this,” he smiled as he produced the package. Alfred blinked twice at it. “It’s not stolen, I bought it,” Jason promised.

“My my, aren’t we coming up in the world,” Alfred mused dryly, though a smile was tugging on his lips.

“Yeah-yeah, do you ever gripe on Dickhead for creating the persona to begin with?” Jason asked. He was a bit put out that Alfred thought he was a thief by his own merit (he was, but he didn’t create Red X).

“Many a times, Master Bruce and I have both thoroughly scolded Master Dick for his brash decision to create and lose the Red X persona, though I must admit you have grown into the role a little too well,” Alfred said sitting at the table.

“Yeah, well, little bird smashed that job to smitherines,” he sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “Hey, have they figured it out yet?”

“No, not for a lack of trying,” Alfred said ruefully.

“Too bad none of them have thought to check your footlocker,” Jason grinned.

“Since that incident they should not have access to it.”

Jason grinned hearing that. It was truly an accident on his part, about four weeks in living in the Manor, on a night he couldn’t really sleep, he had decided to sneak around. This was shortly before he found out about B being Batman, and naturally that was a night B was out as Batman and Alfred was manning the helm of intel and comms. This was before Babs did it, and before she was Oracle. Jason’s snooping had uncovered an old military footlocker, and opening it he had uncovered much about Alfred Pennyworth. There was a shit ton of metals, along with many photos, including one of a beautiful woman, and Alfred with three men; two of whom he knew. There were other things in there as well, treasures that mattered to Alfred; his mother’s pearls, his father’s cufflinks, his fiancée’s ring, a few mementoes from places he had been, a gun, a knife, his birth certificate; revealing his date of birth, along with his American citizenship, and British citizenship; several passports, and a few other pictures.

Today was Alfred’s birthday.

Today was his birthday.

And it had made Jason feel; when he was a child; so much closer to the man he had come to think of as a grandfather. Alfred had been mad at him; for pawing through his things, but Jason was incessant about knowing more about Alfred. His apology was a birthday gift to Alfred literally a week after the incident (though B obviously hadn’t known it was Alfred’s birthday gift Jay had bought that trip). And that had lead to him getting to know the stories behind the photos, being introduced to the few remaining living friends Alfred had, to seeing the butler in a new light; Jason never wanted to be like B, he wanted to be just like Alfred.

“Happy Birthday, Alfie!” he grinned.

Alfred smiled a bit as he slowly started pulling open the wrapping paper; the job was a bit disheveled because Jason had done it on his motorcycle. A chick in car over had obviously digged it as she rolled down her window to flirt with him about it.

“You can just rip it open like a normal person!” Jason teased, getting up when the kettle started whistling. Prepping the tea; Alfred’s favorite he grabbed the appropriate biscuits with the tea and sat at the table.

“It’s marvelous Master Jason,” Alfred smiled at the gift.

“I saw it a while back, thought of you and bought it,” Jason admitted. The pocket watch was something he had bought years back, when he had first escaped from the League of Assassins; before he had gone to the All-Caste. When he had held hope of returning home, only for that to be shattered. He couldn’t even kill a gasoline soaked Joker, and B had thoroughly replaced and upgraded from him; so what was the fucking point of even trying to come back. But he had bought that pocket watch; for Alfred, and before his life was shot truly to hell.

“It is beautiful,” Alfred said checking it out, pulling it out of the box with care.

“I’m glad you like it!” Jason grinned happily at the knowledge he had pleased Alfred.

“I have something for you as well,” Alfred admitted, pulling open his jacket and pulling a thing, rectangle box from his jacket.

Jason tilted his head a bit at it, but accepted the gift as well, he opened the box, moved aside the tissue paper and blinked several times at what was in his hand.

“I… I can’t accept this Alfred,” he sputtered dumbly.

“It was going to be your sixteenth birthday gift, as you are the only one with an appreciation for such things,” Alfred said crisply as he served them tea, Jason blinked a few times. Looking back at what was in the box he slowly reached in and pulled it out. It was a knife; not particularly beautiful, it wasn’t even particularly threatening to look at.

It was an old Fairbairn-Skyes, simple, and beautiful in it’s lethal use. It was something Jason had always admired in Alfred’s footlocker, he had loved it actually. It was a great fighting knife; it was the knife Alfred himself had taught Jason to use in a fight. Bruce hadn’t approved of that, but Alfred said a knife could save his life. He was not wrong. All of Alfred’s training, for knives and guns had actually saved his life in various situation since his death. They had never been skills he needed before his death, as B would never permit a thug to do real harm, but after his death they were skills of survival. Life was truly: Survival of the Fittest. Ra’s and the All-Caste had loved Darwin obviously.

“I…” Jason stared at the blade which had saved Alfred so many times in his youth, and then back to Alfred.

“You have many knives, I have no doubt, but I remember you being particularly fond of that one, and as no one; other than Master Damian; would have the appreciation for the blade, it should go to you. Saved my life many times,” Alfred said fondly.

“Why not give it to the bat brat?” Jason asked, carefully pulling it from it’s old leather sheath; which had been cared for and repaired many times.

“Master Damian’s affinity for blades is not to care for, but to use. He has a blatant lack of care for his weapons; including his own sword.I would rather the knife have a proper home, than to be used and discarded.”

“I… thank you, Alfred,” Jason smiled. Sheathing the blade he strapped it to his right thigh. It was the best gift he had ever received.

“So where to next, Master Jason?” Alfred asked as they started eating the cookies; well biscuits. Brits named shit weird; like bullocks; what the hell were bullocks!? Jason jolted himself from the thought and looked thoughtfully at Alfred. He could always tell Alfred his plans, Alfred wouldn’t tell B, no matter what.

“I’m heading to your neck of the woods actually, I got a lead on Talia,” he said.

“And why are you tracking Miss al Ghul?” Alfred asked dryly.

“Well… for starters, she’s a lying, no good, double crossing bitch who put me in a demon’s crosshairs; as well as putting me on the Bat radar; of which I was not on before I might add!” Jason grumbled sourly.

“And where exactly are you heading?”

“Well I thought to head for Inverness, and work my way from there,” he admitted.

“I see.” Alfred nodded.

“It’s not like she can hide from me forever Alfie! She trained me so I know she’s bound to slip up,” Jason promised.

“Well, I will have Bazza and Dave Boy meet you, they would love to catch up to you,” Alfred remarked.

“Uh…”

“I will also be requiring the number of the mobile Miss Roth was so kind to provide you with,” Alfred stated.

“Uh… sure? I can take international calls on it, I think. I think even interdimensional calls and texts because Constantine called me earlier,” Jason said.

“I will try not to take offense that you took the liberty of providing the number to Mister Constantine and not myself,” Alfred remarked.

“Actually, little bird programmed the damn phone, not me, though I’ll happily take your number,” he grinned. Alfred took the phone and put in his information, Jason also suckered Alfred into a photo with him, saving it as the contact photo.

“I gotta go, I have a plane to catch, Happy Birthday Alfie!” he smiled as he stood.

“It is always a pleasure to see you, Master Jason,” Alfred caught him and pulled him in for a rare hug, holding tight before letting him go.

“See you around.”

“You will be texting me when you land, Master Jason,” Alfred warned.

“Of course, I have to text the Queen anyway!” he grinned and darted out the door as he made his way off the property and to his bike.

#bluboothalassophile #fanfic #one shot #hopes for a bastard universe #hopes for a bastard #jason todd #alfred pennyworth

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shesquiinnsane-ar · 4 years

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What’s your opinion of Birds of Prey?

HERE WE GO. It’s under cut ‘cause it got lengthy. I had a lot more to say before than I did after. I wrote half of this before I went, and the second half when I got back because I wanted to voice my apprehensions before I started given my honest opinion from the film. So here we are with a few light spoilers throughout.

I guess I should start this from stating my opinion on the whole thing before I even started the film. I wanted to make this perception very clear from the get go because honestly? It was a very strong, almost dividing opinion. From the looks of the trailers, and from what I knew of the production I went into this very anxious. Even as of a couple of days ago I completely hated this film, wasn’t going to go and didn’t really care. I hated Margot and just everything about it and I want to try my best to explain why, before we even delve in. If you wanna skip this part that’s fine, look below the line for my opinion post film (light spoilers may be scattered throughout), but I also feel that this aspect is very important too.

I went into this film as a Harley Quinn fan, I love her as a character. From what I was made aware Margot Robbie was given a producer credit for this film and had almost full creative control on how it was portrayed on screen in this film. I really didn’t appreciate how she handled that, from costume, to accent, to the trailers. Margot stated that she wanted to give Harley a girl gang, and she wanted to introduce to birds of prey after reading up on their comics. In my head this is two different ideas that should have been brought around in two different films so accepting the two ideas together even from concept was difficult to me.

Then came how she specifically treated Harley, throwing out everything ‘canon’ about her style and in my opinion giving her style to a K-pop band stylist (the streamer jackets are pretty popular in that genre). With the lack of a Brooklyn drawl, or Arleen essence in the high pitched tone, I felt like for viewers there should have been something familiar with her appearance. Her hair seemed inspired by the canon storyline from Harley Quinn (2016) after Harley had shaved her head into a mohawk - and this wasn’t a post-mohawk look but a ‘break up’ one. To say how ‘inspired’ Suicide Squad was of her rebirth looks, Birds of Prey had done the opposite.

She seemed unfamiliar, aside from a Hyena with a changed name seemingly to fit Harley into the DC world but I don’t think Harley even likes Bruce in that way. She’s there to use him for his millions and if she thought for a moment would probably have worked out he was Batman and in 99% of cases absolutely hates that man’s guts because of lies and stories the Joker has fed her. In a quick summary though, Harley in the trailers felt like a character I could no longer relate too, which hurt. And for a long while I purely blamed Margot for these decisions.

I’m not so familiar with the Birds of Prey generically, I know Black Canary’s casting was divisive but in terms of character’s I do know far less than I do about Harley so this review will be very lenient on her. I know supposedly ‘Cass isn’t Cass’ in terms of comics either and these few things will be taken into account as well. But despite the pushy feminist trailers that were more male-hating than feminsit to be completely frank with you I was eventually convinced to see this film. Mostly because a friend that I respect said I wouldn’t hate it and in truth I didn’t want to hate it. But from concept it was one film that should have been two completely separate films. There should have been a ‘Harley Quinn Girl Gang’ film (i.e a Gotham City Sirens film) and a Birds of Prey Introduction film separated from that. But it wasn’t. That wasn’t the case, we had the trailers we had, and the costumes and casting ideas we had. They aren’t ideas I could change. But maybe I could learn to accept the decisions made, and maybe even like them. So I, initially pretty reluctantly, went with a friend to see it.

Okay so...let’s be honest I didn’t hate the film but….don’t start a film that way. Harley’s ‘backstory’ was utter bullshit. She’s never been in an orphanage, if you wanted a backstory to roughly bounce off Mad Love by Pat Cadigan and Paul Dini could’ve been thrown in casually instead of making her an orphan for the sake of it. This film reached a level of disrespect for Harley in terms of previous ‘canon’ that I hadn’t anticipated with that backstory and the lack of acknowledgement of the only thing that can give her the edge that isn’t her gymnastic ability; Harley has toxin immunity. That’s not an if or a but, but a simple statement which completely flips the film on its head as she is pretty much immune to alcohol, drugs and a tranquiliser dart which obviously in the respect of this film would have completely ruined the plot. I personally don’t understand how Margot can read a comic and think to involve little hints of Harley’s comic appearances and yet ignore what for me is a fundamental aspect of her character, even more so than her outfits and accent which although different fitted the tone of the film so I could get on board with them.

Aside from that? The plot is told in a Deadpool-style so if you don’t like how that’s told then I wouldn’t recommend it but….that’s it. That’s all the negatives. Aside from that I quite enjoyed it. I’m conflicted by that level of ignorance but I suppose it was taken in the same stride as the outfit choices, so I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. Like there’s a way to fix that (make an origins Gotham City Sirens movie where Harley gains her immunity?) but that would require me writing their next film and I don’t think that’d happen. I mean I don’t think Harley would use a child like that, but then she wasn’t out to kill her, she was procrastinating until the girl could go to the bathroom and THAT makes sense for AHrley so we’ll go with that interpretation.

Literally throwing that negative aside though I kinda understood most of the other ‘changes’ at least from what I knew. Cass wasn’t much except to higher the stakes, but even Jurnee’s Canary (what I believed could have been controversial) made sense in the story they created. I didn’t hate it like I thought I might, a lot of my apprehensions were pretty much on the back burner as I couldn’t change them I had to accept them and I did. Harley’s outfits kinda matched the tone of the film. They weren’t what I’d have chosen but they’re little in comparison. It’s a thing, but it’s not a big things.

As a film, I enjoyed it but as a DC film, it’s very disrespectful of most ‘canon’ from what I know and that’s something to keep in mind. But if you can ignore ‘canon’ at least in terms of backstory and some ‘abilities’ it wasn’t a terrible film by any means. It’s worth a watch.

#BLUEBELL ASKS.{protatoes get mail; just not like the jester}

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prxttylittle · 5 years

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❛ i’ve been searching for you in everyone. ❜, ❛ just tell me where the hell we stand at now. ❜, ❛ don’t say that, you don’t mean it. ❜ 🤪

❛I’ve been searching for you in everyone.❜

{ v ;; the princess and the moon.

It was hard to believe that Prince was here with Luna again. He’d insisted time and time again that, no matter how much he missed Luna or anyone else, he wasn’t going to return to London. It crossed his mind many times. He caught himself thinking of her, of what could be of them if he had never grown distant and finishing things with her, or even if he’d never left without saying goodbye. Sometimes his mind created scenarios of how it might have gone had he told her he was planning on leaving town. Would she have convinced him to stay or cursed him out of it and told him go? He wasn’t sure. He didn't give either of them the chance to be sure. The last thing he expected, however, was to run into her in France. Cass had crossed his mind when he’d learned he’d have to pop in and out of Paris every now and then with the job. He’d worried about bumping into her and having a report sent back to Luna but after his first few trips and he hadn’t as much as even spotted her, he realised just how big Paris was and there was no reason for their paths to ever cross. He didn’t count on going past the middle-man and running into Luna herself. He wanted to ignore her, stick to everything he told her and himself before he left London but he couldn’t do that. He had to invite her back to his hotel, they had to talk. There was no question about it. It must have been some twist of fate that they would come across each other, so far from home. It was unsurprising that soon after colliding with one another, Prince found himself tangled up in the sheets with her. Four months of separation was more than enough for his desire to outvote any voice in his head telling him to walk away, not that that one was very loud in the first place. He sighs and rolls over, propping himself up on his elbow, gazing down at the woman that he very much still loves. He traces his hand up along the dip in her back, fingers trailing against her skin ever-so-lightly. “I’ve missed you.” He whispers, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips. He watches as she turns over onto her back, meeting his gaze. He takes that as his opportunity to lean down and kiss her, his hand cupping just under her jaw. As he lets his lips trail down along her jawline, neck and collarbones, she speaks up. “I’ve been searching for you in everyone.” And he immediately relates to her words. Anytime he’s seen a girl even somewhat close to looking like Luna, he’s practically snapped his neck trying to get a second look always thinking maybe she’s found him, and always disappointed when it wasn’t her despite how he could just return home at any given point if he so wanted to see her. He sighs, again, lips back on hers. “I’ve done the same. I never thought I would actually find you among all the faces.” He admits, voice hushed. He lets a smile take over his face, rolling them over in the bed until he’s pinning her down, unable to dispel the brightness reaching his eyes. That smile lingers on his lips when he kisses her, soft and slow. He pulls away and his eyes search her face again. He knows they have to discuss things but he can’t seem to think about anything other than his lips on hers, the look in her eyes, that hint of a smile playing on her lips. So he ignores the nagging voice in his head, opting to kiss her again instead.

{ v ;; no reason.

Jason felt like the after-sex-scene always displayed in the movies was being perfectly recaptured with Iola wrapped around his body, her hair sprawled across his chest, their legs tangled together, his fingers rubbing up and down her back. He was smiling and it reached his eyes, crinkling at the corners. The sun was just about to rise and neither of them had slept since their reunion the day before. Jason didn’t want to waste a minute of this by sleeping. It didn’t feel right. What was right was staying up with her into the night, talking about stupid shit that really wasn’t worth losing sleep for but at the same time meant everything to him. “I’ve been searching for you in everyone.” She whispered into the morning air and it took Jason a moment to put her words together. He furrowed his eyebrows together, a smile still lingering on his lips. “You’ve been searching for a funny-looking, pasty Scottish guy in L.A? I could have told you that’s the last place to look for one of those.” He quipped, chuckling lightly with his lips pressing to her forehead. The tone between them was quiet, hushed. It wasn’t as if there was anyone else in the apartment for them to wake up if they spoke above a whisper, if they moved too much, but the moment just felt too intimate to be trashing about or shouting about how they feel. He let out a sigh when he noticed her smiling, too. “I didn’t do that.” He confessed with a shrug. “I never looked at any pretty, blonde girl and thought ‘is that Iola’ because I knew each time it wasn’t. I didn’t sketch creepy pictures of you from across the way in a coffee shop for weeks on end only to end up not knowing the exact way your hair falls over your shoulder, or the colour of your eyes,” he smirked as he poked at the indent of her cheek. “Or the contour of your cheeks and how they hollow a little when you sigh.” He felt himself flush red, not realising he could go into detail about the little things about her. Despite the blush on his cheeks, he couldn’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed just about expressing how much he adored her. It hadn’t been a secret since day one and just because they were technically broken up, didn’t make it any kind of a secret now, either. “I couldn’t search for you in anyone because you’re one of a kind.” When he was finished delivering his corny lines, he kissed her mostly to avoid a response that would potentially add to his cringe. He cradled her face with a hand, thumb brushing up under her lips as he pulled back, smiling brightly. “Plus, I checked your Snap-Maps religiously just in case your Bitmoji would randomly appear on a plane back from L.A.”

{ v ;; july 17th.

Last night hadn’t been Zayn’s proudest moment, turning up at Ari’s rented apartment completely off his face and just about sobbing into hers. It didn’t help that what was bothering him was sitting on her couch but, mostly to save face in front of her, he didn’t pass any aggression toward Ashton who let himself out just as Ari let Zayn in. That was a good sign, at least. She was welcoming him inside and shutting the door behind him, even if it was out of pity for the state he was in. He knew his eyes we're red-rimmed and soaked but that didn’t make a difference when he looked down and was reminded that she had returned her wedding ring to him and the tears just started up again. She went to speak and he stumbled forward in an effort to take her hands into his. “Ari. I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear it and you just wanted me to leave you alone but I can’t. I’m so fucking stupid for hurting you and I’m so sorry. I--” he let out a breath, his emotions getting the best of him. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I miss you.” He stumbled on his words and continued drunkenly ranting and rambling for a bit and it was clear that Ari didn’t care for his words as long as they were being propelled by whiskey but it was a huge comfort when she pulled him into her arms, wrapping around him tightly. His tears didn’t stop but he wasn’t embarrassed to cry in front of Ari. He wasn’t afraid to show her his heart, it’s what he needed her to see. “Zayn, with or without a ring, I’m yours. You never have to worry about me running off with someone else, but I’m not ready to come home and you obviously aren’t ready for that either. Let’s get you to bed and talk about this in the morning, yeah?” He pulled away, letting out a breath. He nodded. Her words were some kind of a comfort to him, to be assured there was still something to save between them. To know she was still his, even if she didn’t want to come home just yet. Just hearing that was assuring, and so he nodded and let her guide him to bed where it wasn't difficult to be lulled to sleep as a result of the alcohol.

Zayn’s phone buzzed, and buzzed with messages from his brothers and friends all asking him what the hell was going on between him and Ari, why she was out without her ring and with Ashton. He scoffed. As if he had the answer. As if just on cue, the lock on his door jingled as his assistant arrived with the bits he'd asked for before he dismissed them. If Zayn had been caught out buying alcohol amid the rumours of Ari and another man then the tabloids would really have a field day. He turned off his phone and turned to the whiskey, hoping it would shut the voice inside his head. When Ari left, Zayn had not expected their home to feel so empty without her. He didn't think their bed would feel so large with him sleeping in it alone, or like the kitchen table had maybe a few too many seats when she wasn't eating breakfast with him like they used to. Not having her around was torturous and not being able to turn to his vice of Ant and the drugs in an attempt to prove himself to her just added to that torture. Bottle of Jameson in hand, Zayn went into the office which was more so just used for storage. He pulled out a box that Ari had labelled wedding with a smiley face drawn beside it by Zayn. He sat at the desk in the centre of the room and shuffled through the photographs. The best ones were the candids that they hadn't even noticed the photographer was standing nearby during. He picked up one and found himself smiling at it. They’d just done the standard cake-cutting and posing with the knife and those posed pictures were nice but just after both taking a first bite, Zayn had shoved the slice into her face and the photographer caught them both laughing but the look in each spouses eyes was just illuminating. Zayn chuckled out loud, remembering the moment. He picked through a few more photos before his vision became so blurred by his tears that he couldn’t do it anymore. The last image he'd picked up had been of Ari on the dance floor with her best friend, looking elated. He held it tight between his fingers and shook his head, tears spilling out freely. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He sniffed, his voice cracking as he spoke aloud into the empty home. Zayn couldn’t fight not seeing anymore, he couldn’t stand the thought of someone else being with her. He rushed out of the office and made his way to the front door, brushing past Hatchi who-- despite Ari insisting he hated her-- had been just as mopey as Zayn since Ari’s departure. He had to see her, he just had to.

The next morning, Zayn was woken by someone poking him in the arm. He groaned, his head pounding and not feeling any better when his eyes fluttered open only to be greeted by the light flooding into the room. “Who turned the sun on?” He grumbled. He was aware of where he was, not lacking any memories from the night before. He knew he'd showed up here, babbling like an idiot. He knew Ashton had been here, and he knew Ari had promised she was Zayn’s. He sighed and finally let his line of vision drift to her. He smiled, despite the expression on her face. It was just so nice to wake up to her again finally. He nodded when she said they needed to talk. “Do we have to? Can we just lie here and pretend things are okay and watch a shitty movie and drink your crap tea?” He groaned and to his surprise (after a while) he found himself curled up in the bed with Ari. He ran a hand through her hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve missed you.” He sighed. He watched as she shifted so she was facing him now. He couldn't read her expression. “I’ve been searching for you in everyone.” She admitted, catching him off guard with her frankness. He smiled, softly. Although she’d basically said it the night before, this was a confirmation that she had no intentions of moving on from him. “You didn't have to be doing that when I’ve just been a call away.” He brushed her hair out of her face. “I’ll always be just a call away, for you.” He leaned in and pressed his lips t hers, lingering for just a moment before pulling away, not wanting her to feel too pressured by him. He knew the moment of her asking for her space was going to come since she'd told him the night prior that she wasn’t coming home just yet but he was glad to be able to relish in this for now.

❛Just tell me where the hell we stand at now.❜

{ v ;; the princess and the moon.

Prince scoffed and rolled his eyes when Luna stomped away from him and out of Matt’s apartment. He knew she wanted him to go after her but he really wasn’t in the mood. He sighed and returned to the living room where everyone else was, pretending like they hadn’t been trying to listen in on every single word of the argument he and Luna had just had. He cocked an eyebrow at his friends, sliding back down into his seat. “Problem?” He aimed at all of them. He watched as Cass stood up, an attitude already evident in her actions. “You should be nicer to her, you know. You’re never going to find anyone better than that. You don’t even deserve this one.” Prince rolled his eyes at Cass’s defence of Luna. He hadn’t even been that harsh in comparison to words they’d exchanged in the past. He let out a breath and stood up as well. “Last time I checked she’s my girlfriend, not yours, and this is my relationship so wind your fucking neck in Cass.” He marched off before Cassie could get another word in. He was sick of her two cents when it came to his and Luna’s relationship. He slammed the door shut behind him and when he noticed there was no sight of Luna still being about he decided to just return to his own apartment rather than chase her down. It wasn’t until the next day that Prince and Luna finally spoke, aside from a few text messages exchanged the night prior, when he decided to stop at her house on the way home from working in the morning-time. He was sheepish when she answered the door, knowing there was an apology required but not really having one within him. It also wasn’t long before they started arguing again. Prince went to speak but was caught off guard when Luna mentioned Cassie informing her that Prince had labelled Luna his girlfriend yesterday after she’d left, going off an a tangent on how he could say everything she wanted to hear about her but not to her. He shut his mouth, recalling that yes, he had done that. He shrugged, not wanting to dignify her with a reply. “Just tell me where the hell we stand at now!” She snapped in response to his silence and he took a step back, still silent. What was he to say to that? What was expected of him? Prince could never understand her desire to define the relationship but then again, she’d actually had relationships before unlike him so there was a chance she had more of a grasp on how they worked. He shrugged, yet again. It wasn’t difficult for Prince to piss Luna off and that seemed to be exactly what he was doing and when she went to stomp past him (likely to open the door to usher him to go away) he sighed and wrapped a hand around her wrist, pulling her back to him. “You’re infuriating.” He grumbled, a hand lifting to cup her face. “Yeah Luna, you’re my fucking girlfriend, alright? This is so fucking stupid. I’ve told you how I feel and I haven’t gone near any other girls since you, so did it really need to be said out loud that this is ‘official’?” His irritated tone dissipated when she relaxed into his touch. He rested his forehead against hers, letting out a calmer breath now as his thumb ran circles underneath her jawline. The thought of being someone’s boyfriend was strange for him which was why he hated the constant back-and-forth of fighting about it when they both knew that he was hers and nobody else without having to say it over and over again. His lips brushed against hers and he found himself backing her towards the stairs so they could go to her bedroom.

{ v ;; no reason.

Jason was surprised by Iola’s sudden outburst, demanding to put a title on their relationship. He frowned and reached a hand out for hers. “I don’t know, Iola. It’s a bit more complicated than just deciding to be boyfriend and girlfriend again.” He chewed down on his lower lip. Iola returning to Chicago had been the greatest part of Jason’s entire year since she left but not once had that nagging voice left him alone, always telling him she was just going to leave him heartbroken again. Part of him didn’t really care because at least he had her, for now. At least he could spend time with her that he never thought he was going to get back. If she was going to leave him again, he was glad he got to have a small piece of her, if only for a little while. Recently, he could feel that they were both getting tired of this limbo they were in and that was finally coming to the surface here and now as she asked him where they stood. Jason had tried to broach this topic since she’d returned once already but had just been brushed off and more than willing to drop the conversation when her lips connected with his. It wasn’t going to be so easy to get out of now, not when she was the one questioning things. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll be your boyfriend again, if that’s what you want me to be, no question about it but–” he paused and suddenly it felt like having this conversation out on the street after an amazing date didn’t feel very appropriate. Maybe they should have waited to go home where he could cry in peace if she decided to dump him once again. “But if you’re going back to L.A, you’ve got to tell me. I’ll stay here and be your boyfriend, I’ll go with you and be your boyfriend, I’ll stay here and cry every day and make sad, pathetic art if you decide you don’t want me back but it’s up to you.” Jason didn’t really give a shit about making himself seem too eager to be back in her heart once again. He’d received ridiculous, shitty advice from his (few) guy-friends telling him to play things cool but there was no version of this universe where Jason could possibly ‘play it cool’ when it came to Iola. Not since the day they’d met had he ever had it within his limits to come across as any form of cool. He’d been a stuttering, blubbering idiot since day one and there must be something about that that she appreciated considering the wondrous relationship they had before she left. “You tell me where the hell we stand at because I’m yours, now and always. I just want you to be happy.” He answered with finality.

{ v ;; july 17th.

Zayn felt slightly guilty for giving Arianna false hope when he was perfectly aware of her feelings for him. He knew that getting into bed with her, showing her all this affection and choosing to spend every night spent staying up and laughing with her when they could escape the cameras, kissing her when he felt so daring to do so, he knew he was just leading her on. He couldn’t give her what she wanted. How could he? Zayn didn’t even 100% believe that Ari really wanted him the way she let on, he figured she was just confused or was just having enough fun with him that she only thought she wanted that. He wasn’t enough for her and she’d see that soon, surely. “I– uh–” He paused, unable to really answer her. He couldn’t think of a bullshit answer to provide for her, either. He shook his head and detangled her arms from around him, getting up from the bed to get dressed. For once he was thankful for his band duties and having to go attend interviews meant he didn’t have to come up with a fake excuse to get out of there once he delivered this blow. “I can’t say we stand anywhere, Ari. We’re just friends. You knew that before we started all of this.” He sighed and pulled his t-shirt over his head. Zayn hadn’t told her but he’d been feeling different about her recently. It could be said that the feelings she’d expressed for him were being reciprocated but he wasn’t really sure about the need to tell her about it. He sighed and sat down on the bed beside her. “I like you, I do, but I also somehow still like Ariana and Harry and I like flirting with people and fooling around with people without there being any consequences. I thought you understood that.” He frowned. There was some truth to his words. While he had noticed his feelings for Ariana dissipating slightly and he definitely didn’t feel as strongly for Harry as he once did, especially compared to what it was he was feeling for Ari, it didn’t change the fact that he had a reputation in this house. He didn’t need the guilt trips and the remorse and the checking his actions every two minutes that he had the last time he was in a relationship (with Ari’s sister at that). Additionally to that, being in a relationship, being exclusive with Ari would put her in the firing line for the pain he knew he could cause and he didn’t want that for her. Zayn decided to pretend he didn’t pick up on the seriousness of the conversation, and smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “So I guess we’re just having fun right now, that’s where we stand, yeah? Talk to you later.” He didn’t give her much of a chance to respond, or argue, as he made his way out of her room.

{ v ;; katie and leo.

Katie chuckled when Leo returned to the room with two tea cups. “Champagne in a mug? You do know how to make a girl feel special.” She teased as he crawled back into bed with her, handing her a cup. Her smile only grew when he corrected her that it was just £3 Buck’s Fizz from the corner shop. “The glamour never stops.” She sipped the drink and realised that yes indeed, that definitely was no more expensive than £5. She turned to face him, grinning widely. She didn't expect him to bring up the status of their relationship, talking about how their casual, not-being-together thing seemed to be fizzling with how much they’d slept with each other and no-one else recently. She nodded. He had a point, constantly being with each other didn't really fit the description of not being together. She shrugged. “I have to sleep with you sometimes to remind myself I made the right decision because the 8-year-old me that had a crush on you didn’t realise that Eli was going to grow up be so hot and I can’t switch between cousins.” She spoke casually, bringing her drink to her lips to hide the smirk playing on her lips. She watched his expression transition from curious to almost-deadly, scowling deeply. She chuckled and patted his arm. “For christ's sake, I’m only joking Leo, relax. Even hinting at shagging Eli of all people felt kind of gross to say.” She could tell he was in no way amused from her humour. She leaned in to kiss him, if anything to distract from the frown on his face which seemed to work until he pulled away, making eye contact with her. “You not being funny aside, just tell me where the hell we stand out now.” She sighed. They had this ‘what are we?’ conversation so often and she hated feeling like the bad guy when it wasn’t her being needy and clingy and needing his approval. She finished her drink and put it on the bedside table, taking his and putting it down, too. She then rolled over in the bed so she was straddling him, her hands pressed down on her chest as she let her nails (claws) dig in slightly. She smirked and leaned down, lips connecting to his neck, kissing and sucking the skin there. “I don’t know.” She whispered, never straying too far from him. “I’m not really in the mood for talking right now.” She shifted so she was pressing pecks all along his jawline which she was very much obsessed with and he knew it, too. “How can I think straight” she kissed him on the lips. "Or even talk” She kissed him again. “When the hottest guy in London has a hard-on against my ass?” She quietened her chuckle by kissing him properly, her hands against his face, lips parting against his. She knew he wasn't falling for her tricks and attempt to distract him and was only indulging her because he was as much of a horny teen as she and they would soon have to return to the topic but at least for now he was allowing her to avoid it as he kissed back.

❛Don’t say that, you don’t mean it.❜

{ v ;; the princess and the moon.

Prince sighed and sat down, placing his face in his hands. She was right, he didn’t mean it. He was lying when he said he didn’t love her. He looked up at her and nodded, somehow unafraid to admit the truth. After all this time, telling her how he feels had become much easier, even though he didn’t hate being vulnerable any less than he did at the start. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t mean it.” He shrugged his shoulders at his own confession. “But that doesn’t change anything, Luna. I loved you when I dumped you, loved you when I told you that you meant nothing to me and I loved you when I left London without a word but that didn’t stop me from doing any of those things, did it?” Prince had considered his options for weeks and weeks before he left just a few months ago. He thought about how it would make her feel, him fleeing London without a word, just two years after her best friend had done the same. At the time, he couldn’t bring himself to think that saying goodbye would have helped, nor would have staying. Falling in love with her had made him stop hating himself like he had when he was younger but he’d started feeling that once again in the weeks before he left and he just couldn’t bring himself to stop. He told himself that she didn’t need that, didn’t need his excuses or his own damage. He wasn’t sure if he could look back on his decision now and say that he was wrong, but there was something about it that definitely wasn’t right. That being said, his travels didn’t help him, either. The only change that had been made was that now his bank account was more plentiful but it wasn’t as if he needed to spend all of his income on his little sister like he did when he was in London, so even that change meant little to him. “I do love you but it doesn’t matter anymore. I let you go, and I saw you with that guy so you can obviously let me go, too.” When Prince returned to London, he’d been irritated that he had to. No one had told him this new job meant flying home for updates with his dealer, and he’d just hoped it wouldn’t mean that he would bump into anyone. He just wanted to report back and return to France in the few days he was home. He lived in London for 21 years and very rarely managed to run into people he knew, but he returns for one weekend and just happened to come across Luna and her new man. He’d been livid, at first, when he saw someone else with an arm wrapped around the woman he loved. But now that they’d reunited, Prince was starting to realise that maybe that was for the best. Maybe she needed someone that wasn’t him and him jumping back into bed with her was wrong, it would hinder both of them in moving on. His feelings had never changed, not from the day he left up to now, but if she was able to see someone else he figured if he left her alone then at least hers could change. He couldn’t not believe she would be better off without him. “This was a mistake. I should go.” He was quiet as he turned his back on her, ready to ignore any protests she may have.

{ v ;; no reason.

Jason let out a sad laugh as Iola entered the kitchen, asking how dinner was coming along as she wrapped both arms around his waist. In their two years of dating this was his first time attempting to cook for her. He’d watched so many tutorials on this recipe and yet as he watched her lean past him and over the pot that was now on the draining board, overflowed with cold water from him attempting not to set the fire alarm off, his tutorial education failed him. He pouted and noted her expression. “I already ordered pizza instead, don’t worry.” He grinned and turned around into her embrace. Jason cradled Iola’s face between his hands, letting his smile translate into his actions as he kissed her. It wasn’t long before they were curled up on the couch, halfway through a pizza (half-pineapple, half-pepperoni and mushroom) and moving onto the last episode of season 4 of Friends as part of Iola introducing Jason to it since he had never seen even an episode of it. “It’s not a Scottish thing, it’s a McLoughlin family thing.” He’d excused. Jason picked up a slice just as Emily and Ross’s parents reappeared on the screen, fighting and bickering over the cost of a wedding. Jason scoffed, despite his mouth being full. “I just don’t get it.” He swallowed his mouth full of food. “Do people really spend that much on a wedding? Like I’ve flown from the U.K to America and the cost of one flight alone seems like more than what a wedding should be and Ross had all his friends fly over.” He looked to Iola when she chimed in with the addition of the cost of a dress and catering and location which somehow led him to believe (falsely) that she shared his opinion rather than just pointing out a fact. “Right? Exactly! And the drama they had on the location, too. All that fuss over a stupid piece of paper that doesn't even mean anything.” He finished the slice in his hand and was just about to lean over for his drink when Iola spoke again. “Don’t say that.” He frowned, returning his gaze to her, losing focus on Rachel making her big entrance on the screen. “You don’t mean that.” Jason furrowed his eyebrows together, unsure of what he'd said to make her react like this-- though, of course, she had no problem clarifying what he’d said that was so wrong which was his opinion on marriage. At only nearly twenty-two, Jason did not expect to be having a disagreement on marriage. He shrugged. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s not that serious is it? You're only eighteen, we’re hardly about to have the marriage and babies talk. I think we can give that chat another ten years or so.” He chuckled lightly and he wasn’t sure if it was his words or his laughter that set her off, pushing away from him and storming off to the bedroom with a loud door-slam following in her wake. He sighed and threw his head back against the sofa, completely unable to focus on Ross accidentally saying Rachel’s name on-screen as he tried to work out how he had managed to just introduce a fight with his eighteen year old girlfriend about something as serious as marriage. Now he wasn’t sure if he should follow her, not wanting the fight to develop for him to provide the information that he wasn’t sure if he’d ever want to get married, or if letting her stew would make her even angrier.

{ v ;; july 17th.

Zayn knew it was a bad idea before he did it but now that he’d done it, he quite frankly didn’t care. He didn’t have any regrets and he certainly didn’t give a shit what his fiancee was going to say as he walked through the door at 4am, coked off his tree. “Morning!” He was beaming from ear to ear as he walked into the kitchen and was greeted by a very concerned looking Ari. It wouldn’t take a genius to guess where he’d been and what he was doing. That didn’t stop her from asking. “Work.” He lied. They both knew he wasn’t expected at work any time soon and they both knew he wouldn’t go even if he was. He scoffed when she accused him of being high. “No, I’m not. I’m low. I’m so fucking low.” He sniggered as he raided the fridge, for what he wasn’t too sure. He gave up and slammed it shut finally turning to face Ari and that ridiculous expression of sadness he had grown so used to seeing on her face. “Smile. It won’t hurt. You might learn you actually like it!” He attempted to provide an example as he stretched his lips, exposing his teeth as he grinned into her face. “Anyway, I’m off to bed.” That was really all Zayn could recall from the night before as he woke with a pounding headache and a burning in the back of his throat. He looked to his side to notice Ari wasn’t in bed with him. He sighed and decided to go take a shower despite how heavy all of his limbs felt and he was sure the water splashing against him wouldn’t help. Just as he stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, Ari entered the bathroom. He nodded at her. He didn’t feel any better and he certainly didn’t feel like hashing last night’s events. He was more than aware that he’d fucked up and also irritated her when he’d come home. He didn’t need telling. He looked at the expression on her face and sighed, rubbing at his temples to try alleviate the migraine that hadn’t gone away since he woke up. “Seriously, not now, Ari.” He groaned, attempting to push past her and into their bedroom. “Can you not be an asshole for at least one hour of your life, Zayn?” “Oh, fuck off. It’s your fault I’m in this mood anyway.” He tutted when she argued with him. He stomped across the room and picked out random clothes to change into, only sliding into his sweats before she was speaking again. It’s not my fault she insisted and he couldn’t help the cloud of rage that surrounded him. He whipped around, scowling at her. “It’s your fault our son is dead and that’s why I’m in this mood so I’d say yeah, it is.” Zayn pulled a random shirt over his head and stormed out of the room and away from Ari. He wasn’t sure why he’d said that, why he’d made that accusation against her. “Don’t say that, you don’t mean it.” She followed him downstairs. Zayn turned around so quickly to face her that she just about walked fully into his chest, stumbling a bit as she bumped into him. He backed her up against the wall. “Funny, I didn’t know that you could read minds. What don’t I mean? Go on, tell me. Is it that I blame you? You think I don’t mean that when you told me at the hospital that it was your fault? Your depression, your pills, somehow your fucked up life always bleeding into mine.” He swallowed the guilt as his words caused her to cry. He stepped back when she reached out for him. He didn’t understand why she wasn’t retaliating, why she wasn't insisting he was wrong and cursing his name. Instead she was apologising that he felt this way. He didn’t get it. He sighed and grabbed his shoes at the front door. “I’m going to Ant’s. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” And with that he ignored her pleads for him to stay as he stormed out of the house and away from what felt like his biggest attempt at fucking things up between them.

{ v ;; katie & leo.

Katie was absolutely fuming with Eli. He teased and made fun of her a lot but she always returned it and it was always harmless. Telling Leo that Katie had a crush on his dad wasn’t harmless and she couldn’t see the point in doing that, whether it was true or not. She didn’t believe that he was just looking out for his cousin, she could only see it as him stirring the pot. She had to re-focus her energy off of being irritated and instead made it her priority to find Leo. She just got out to the car park of the school when she saw Leo’s car just vanishing around the corner, speeding away from her. She huffed out a breath. She was going to have to walk to his house now which was just going to waste even more time. It didn’t take too long, she mostly ran, but she eventually reached the Jameson-Moon house. She noticed Luna’s car wasn’t in the drive which made her more nervous to know only Prince was home with Leo because that probably wouldn’t help Leo’s paranoia. Katie let herself in, knowing the boys being home without Leo’s mother meant they were too clueless to remember to lock it. She marched up the stairs and barged into Leo’s room. She ignored him when he told her to get out, shutting the door behind herself as she welcome herself further into the room, despite how his temper being aimed at her was something she wasn’t used to and made her uncomfortable. “You’re being ridiculous, Leo. I’m your best mate, above all else. You at least owe it to me to hear my side of the story.” Even the look she was given in response to that made her want to turn around and leave, he was making her feel so badly about herself without even saying much. She sighed when he barely acknowledged her. She marched over to his bed and pulled his phone from his hand to redistribute his attention back to her. “Eli doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. I don’t know what he said exactly but you are my priority, not your dad.” It felt ridiculous to have to say out loud, to have to defend herself and insist she hadn’t been just coming around to see Leo’s dad. She had been flirting with him, and she did have a major crush on him, but Leo was her main guy and she was sticking with that defence. “Don’t say that because you don’t mean it.” Katie’s eyebrows furrowed together. Was he serious right now? “I feel like I’ve taken fucking crazy pills!” She didn’t mean to raise her voice because the last thing they needed now was Leo’s dad overhearing this particular argument but at the same time she didn’t appreciate being called a liar and shouting was her go-to defence mechanism for that. He still managed to ignore her, though. She sighed. “Leo, I’m sorry.” Rare words from Katie Keller-Williams. “I really fucked up this time.” The silence that fell between them didn’t last for much longer as Leo finally stood up, getting all up into her face. Her eyes widened as he walked against her, forcing her back to the wall as he spoke cruel, harsh words that she would have never imagined coming from his mouth– “I thought you wanted to be with me. I was more than ready to be with you, but I’m glad Eli stopped me from making the biggest mistake of my life. Now get the fuck out, Katie.” Katie was too stunned to even provide him with a response. Her jaw practically hit the floor when he finalised his rant. Her chest hurt, and her lip was quivering but his only interest was seemingly getting away from her, running off. She could feel her eyes watering but she didn’t want to acknowledge that aspect by wiping at any tears. She blinked, hard. “Asshole.” She whispered to herself, her voice shaking. Katie then made her way out of Leo’s room, and at the worst timing too as it was just when Prince appeared at the door asking what had just happened to cause Leo to storm off like that. To keep herself from crying, she just shook her head and shrugged before letting herself out of the house. She couldn’t see. Leo but after the way he’d just spoken to her, she didn’t want to.

#hi welcome to a series i like to call me stealing ur july 17th meme format #and not being sorry about it #thank u #next #and also ur july 17th meme content????#imagine if i had my own working brain #also hello to the introduction of the Marriage Fight @ no reason #and none 4 ashton byyeeee #prince is kind of sweet as hell tho riight #ok im done #{ v ;; the princess and the moon.#{ v ;; no reason.#{ ;; july 17th.#{ v ;; katie & leo.#beencaughts #memed

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coutelier · 3 years

Text

Another excerpt, a bit longer than the last couple I posted. According to Scrivener exactly 3000 words, which pleases me (although proofreading and editing may uncover some missing words etc - whatever - I’ll just take some away some place because I’m keeping that number).

Summer had ended. Now the skies were gray, the leaves brown, and from here on the days would only grow shorter and darker still. Kaya had ignored Sergeant Daramy’s warning, taking Greenback out to a clearing in the woods. She wasn’t one hundred per cent sure what instinct had brought her back; maybe she just wanted to return to the last place she remembered being happy - the site of her last great adventure. The clearing looked a different now - smaller - and the last time she’d been here there had been stars above. All of her life was here in the car, so after some rummaging she had a screen on her lap with an old hard drive hanging from it’s side.

“You’re looking at the past,” a girl inside the computer said. Jennifer, her voice made a little tinny by the machine’s speaker, but Kaya could her as clear as if she were in the car next to her. This would have been over ten years ago, when twilight still lasted forever. They’d ridden out here on their bicycles to find a fairy circle, then clasped hands and swung each other around until falling from exhaustion to look up at the twinkles in the sky.

Kaya’s younger self also lay on her back, leg kicking to a beat only she ever heard, face scrunched as she responded, “huh?” Her hair had been brown back then.

“The stars,” pretty blonde Jennifer answered, one arm already reaching for them. “They’re so far away that the light from them takes years to reach us, so what we see now is really how they were a long time ago. We wouldn’t even know the Sun had exploded for eight minutes.”

Little Kaya bolted upright, gasping, “the Sun has exploded?!”

Jenn seemed to catch some of the panic, flustered and confused as she too gasped, “What? No! I don’t think so. At least not for a very long time, probably.”

“I don’t get it,” little Kaya relaxed again. “Why are you so weird?”

“It’s not weird,” huffed Jennifer, “it’s science.”

“It’s freaky. Remember you made Cass cry because you said her cat was a zombie?”

“I said there was a fifty-fifty chance it was alive or dead,” Jenn sighed, “I just wanted her to let the poor thing out of the box. It was just a thing I read.”

“Didn’t you also read we’d see fairies out here?”

As the twilight dream came to an end, both girls had been disappointed. Jennifer’s book, ‘The Hidden People’, had indeed promised that being in the circle at twilight would allow them to glimpse the fae realm. Alas, the only lights they saw were the stars above and traffic lights from Irongate in the valley below.

“I guess not everything in books is true,” Jennifer conceded. “That’s why we have to test them. Maybe the camera saw something?”

Big red Kaya watching the scene on her laptop hadn’t yet seen anything unusual, cracking open a beer as the girls on screen lay in the circle a while longer. “We’re not little kids anymore,” her younger self said. “Maybe we should think about doing things a little more, you know, normal.”

Jennifer’s nose wrinkled, “that doesn’t sound like fun.”

“It could be; music, parties, games.”

“We do those things anyway.”

“But I mean with other people. It’s,” young Kaya chewed as she searched for the right word, “it’s networking.”

“Networking?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t get it.” Of course Jennifer would only understand that word in the context of machines and computers. Big Kaya chided her younger self for being a dumbass - she was never going to have it better than she had then - and waited for Jennifer to finally stand as the last of the Sun’s rays vanished. “We should get back,” she said, “dad’s probably looking for us.”

Little Kaya groaned having just gotten comfortable, “Do we have to?” She was never in a hurry to get home. Still wasn’t.

“We should have been back hours ago,” Jenn explained, holding out a hand to help Kaya up, “I’m probably going to be grounded again.” Unlike with other fathers, Jennifer never had cause to be fearful of her dad’s threats.

Young Kaya took the hand, but waited a moment to gaze up at Jenn with her fair skin and hair, almost silver-white now in the moonlight. “You look like a fairy,” she said. Jennifer obviously didn’t know how to respond to that, blushing nervously until Kaya was up and she went to pack away her book and other things.

This was the part big Kaya had been waiting for. As Jennifer picked up her backpack there was faint noise that reminded Kaya of hearing a tap left running in the bathroom at night. Then a gust of wind forced Jennifer’s dress to wrap tightly around her body pulling her backwards a few steps. Only there was no wind - Kaya rewound and played the video again to be sure, and indeed the trees and bushes behind Jennifer hadn’t moved. It was more like something had run past her very fast. Something that neither they or the camera could see. Jennifer at the time knew something was off as well, her blue eyes fixing on the shrubs and undergrowth. In particular there was a gap where branches touched to create a door, a portal to an inky black realm beyond. Before young Kaya registered what was happening, Jenn had already gotten her flashlight and was sticking her head in.

“What are you doing?” Little Kaya ran to her friend and the thorny arch, but Jenn was already through and searching the undergrowth.

“There’s something here,” she explained.

“What thing?”

“I don’t know, but it whispered to me. It said my name…”

“Okay, whatever it is it sounds creepy. Get back here!”

Unable to see anything, it seemed Jenn was going to comply. Then the ground beneath her shook. Jenn struggled to keep her footing, but then she was standing over nothing and being swallowed by the Earth, Kaya lunging to catch her but just too late. Young Kaya was then on her knees staring into a gaping hole, crying desperately, “Jenn! Jenn Air! Are you okay?!”

It was a minute before a faint plaintiff echo replied, “I’m okay! I think I’m in a cave.”

Irongate had started it’s life as a mining town, with shafts and tunnels as well as natural caves scattered all over the surrounding hills and valleys. Most were abandoned now as the town’s economy changed to technology and a university, leaving behind just a few remnants of its past, like the few elderly folks that still recalled the ‘good old days’ when most of their friends were crushed or choked by natural gas - while bemoaning the youth for not wanting to literally put their lives on the line everyday to help a billionaire fill his liqueur cabinet.

But big Kaya was digressing. Her younger self out of concern for her friend decided - without much thought - that she couldn’t leave Jenn alone and jumped into the hole after her. The camera however had been left in the clearing, so to confirm if what she’d seen down there was real she was going to have to leave the car and find another way into the cave - she was too big now to fit down the slide.

She remembered back then that, after bouncing down the tunnel with flecks of dirt tumbling all about her, Jennifer had jumped out the way just in time to avoid getting kicked in the face. Kaya had landed triumphantly on her feet, but Jenn seemed less than impressed.

“What are you doing?” She’d asked.

“What do you mean?” Little Kaya was genuinely surprised by her reaction. “I’m helping you get out of here.”

Luckily Jenn still had her flashlight or they wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. She illuminated the hole they’d fallen through, nearly a foot above their heads, asking, “suppose that’s the only way out?” Sure enough, even if they could have gotten up there the slide was too steep and the sides too loose to climb all the way back to the surface. It was a rare occasion when Jenn lost her temper but she did then, repeatedly slapping Kaya’s arm, hissing “idiot!”

But Kaya had always been the stronger of the two, easily shoving Jenn to the ground. “Relax,” she’d urged her friend, “there are loads of tunnels around here. Bound to be another way out.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. Gangs use them to hide all their stuff from police.”

Jennifer had eyed her a little suspiciously, “how do you know that?”

“Networking,” young Kaya exclaimed with her finger pointing up. “You can learn a lot from people you know. Not everything is in books.”

Although reluctant to put her trust in the sayings of ‘people’ Jennifer had seen they had no choice regardless, so that night they set about exploring the caves for an exit. What they found was another world. As they’d ventured forth, it soon became apparent that there was no need for Jenn’s flashlight as ahead of them the tunnel lit up. Thinking they’d found the way out they ran, and when they burst out the tunnel’s mouth they were in a forest. But not like the forest they’d started in - this was a forest made of luminescent mushrooms of all sizes, all glowing in various hues of pink and blue, all nestled in a cavern the size of a village.

The girls joined hands, dumbstruck until Kaya exhaled, “was this in the book?”

Jenn shook her head. “I think we have to go through it,” she’d said.

There had been a steep slope between them and the strange effervescent forest floor which they tackled the same way they’d tackled stairs when they were even younger - bouncing down it on their butts. It was then that Kaya cut her hand on a sharp, triangular piece of stone, spitting and swearing as the burning sensation spread across her palm. Fortunately, Jennifer had been prepared, coming to her with plasters from her backpack.

“A fairy arrow,” Jenn had said upon inspecting the stone. “Good find. It’s supposed to protect the holder from evil magics - here,” she offered it to Kaya who, after all, had found it and was still trying to shake out the pain.

Little Kaya pocketed it in her jeans. “You really think there might be fairies here?”

“I don’t know,” Jennifer admitted, “but, we’ll find out together.”

The mushrooms had been all sizes, some tiny ones forming a thick carpet across the cavern floor that squelched beneath their feet, while others grew to the size of a tree. Some were thin and tall, others wide enough to lie on. Jennifer fished her book out of her backpack to compare, but none of the illustrations in there were as bright and vivid as this. Young Kaya began thinking of her stomach and eyeing the bio-luminescent fungi like candy. “Think we could eat these things?” She asked. “They could be, like, magic or something.”

“Best not,” Jennifer answered. The fungi covered the walls and ceiling too, creating the illusion of another starry canvas. Awed Jennifer was taking it all in, not seeing the thing creeping behind her. Kaya did, Jenn gasping as she was yanked by the arm away from a sofa sized mushroom, dropping her book. Over the fungal seat the thing came crawling - a translucent glass spider as big as their heads. It reared back, pedipalps reaching out as if sensing the girls, as Jenn peered and squinted with Kaya making sure she kept a safe distance.

“It might have poison,” young Kaya whispered, “come on - let’s go.”

There were a few other tunnels around that might possibly have led to the surface. As Jenn was being led away she remembered her book, breaking free to run back, only to find herself looking at an empty floor. “It’s gone,” she said, perplexed. A search was off the table however, as then the cavern filled with a puffing sound like that of a hot-air balloon, then a jet of orange flame erupting from the mouth of one of the tunnels, instantly melting all the mushrooms it touched. Running was in order.

And so they did, sprinting from the gushing flames until they came to a wall, which they followed hoping for an exit. They did find another tunnel, but as they rounded the corner the girls screamed and immediately fell back, holding onto each other. Before them was a human figure covered in a silver space suit, a small blue flame in front of the nozzle he was brandishing. He looked down, the clutching girls reflected in his helmet then raised a hand as a voice crackled from inside, “Hold! There are kids here!”

A decade later, big Kaya entered the cavern the same way the spaceman had, carrying only a beer can and a lamp. The mushrooms, forest, glass spiders - all gone. All that was here now were cold stone walls and darkness. Kaya had convinced herself that her imagination had exaggerated the things she saw, but there had obviously been a clean-up operation going on here that night. After the girls were found, they’d been led outside where more people in space-suits and doctors bustled around vans that bore the logo of Stag Corp. Jennifer fell quiet in the face of so much activity and noise, holding onto Kaya’s arm more tightly - she should have chosen her confidante more wisely. She relaxed when they were taken into a tent with just one of the doctor’s examining them. They paid particular attention to Kaya’s cut, took a blood sample from each of them, then they were left alone until Jenn’s father came to collect them.

Jonathan Airhart had been what you’d expect a scientist to look like; glasses, tweed, minimal amount of hair maintenance. On that night he’d looked sweaty and exhausted, Kaya assumed out of worry for his daughter. She recalled yet another awkward moment when Jenn ran to hug him while Kaya was left sitting on a fold out table alone, kicking her feet and just staring absently at the corners of the tent. Of course he started to tell her off for disobeying, Jennifer performing a little furtive dance as she apologized and his stern demeanor quickly subsided. The only strange thing about him that night, Kaya recalled, was that he’d swiped the blood samples from the little machine the doctor had placed them in.

“Neither of you has any infection,” he’d said, “we should all just be grateful for that, I suppose.”

Then Jennifer asked, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he assured her. Then he took something out of his pocket - a small wood carving of an owl. “I got you a present.” With that, Jennifer seemed to forget about all the strange things they’d seen as she was hypnotized by the image of the silent bird of prey in flight. “Long ago,” her father told, “humans could only dream of what it would be like to fly high above the Earth. They couldn’t just grow wings of their own, but in time would learn to make balloons and planes and rocket ships flying higher than a bird ever could. That’s the power of the human mind - we can turn dreams into reality. Although, it doesn’t always turn out how we imagined.”

Jennifer sagely noted, “some dreams are scary.”

“I know,” Jonathan patted her softly on the head, “but we’re all fine now. Let’s get home.”

In the empty cavern in the present, big Kaya watched all this play out through the projector of her mind, but it seemed there really was no other trace here of anything that had happened back then. She couldn’t even ask Jennifer about it - they hadn’t really spoken since shortly after this and Kaya had no idea where she was now. But Jenn was smart - Kaya had no doubt she would have done well, despite her. Or in spite of her. In any case, when the phone rang it was Kaya’s mom.

Kaya put down the lamp, taking a moment to be mildly impressed that she got a signal down here - but then it wasn’t really that deep and it seemed another hole had opened in the ceiling since she was here last. “Hi mom,” she answered, sipping from her can whenever she had to wait for a response. “No, I’m fine… really… uh-huh… yes I’m brushing my teeth. You know I’m twenty-one now, right?” It seemed all she wanted was to check-up on Kaya, then shame her by telling her what all her friends from church and their kids had accomplished. Kaya knew that if she asked, her mother would help her find a place to live, a job, getting all her life in order. Or would try to. Unfortunately, it would mean having to deal with that other asshole she used to live with. “Is that dad?” Her face soured the moment she heard his voice in the background and she began to twist and dig her toe into the ground. “Yeah? Well you tell that bloated, decrepit, piece of human garbage, that I’ll-” Kaya bit her lip, realizing she was only going to create problems for her mom. “Look, I’ll see you soon, okay? Goodbye… love you.”

Kaya placed the phone back in her denim jacket as she began to pace like she could just walk off all the venom she had built up for that man. She couldn’t, so she crushed her beer can and with a snarl threw it across the cavern, gasping in shock and horror as it flew through Jennifer. Of course, she wasn’t really there - it was just a memory.

Coming here had been dumb. There was nothing to see. No revelation, no reconciliation - nothing. She was stupid, and was just going to have to live with that.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #am writing #i am writing #wip #my wip #science fiction #Irongate

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nickireadstfc · 7 years

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The Raven King, Chapter 12 – No One Is Okay (I Promise)

In which we deal with the aftermath of the Thanksgiving Fuckery, Kevin is apparently not the only one with a choking kink, Neil is still obnoxiously fine, and Betsy is the best person to ever grace this planet.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Raven King.

Am I back? Yes.

Am I alive? Physically.

Am I over what happened? Fuck no.

It’s fine, though, because from what I’ve gathered no one else is, either.

No, but seriously – every time the mental image of Andrew on that bed, half-undressed, blood-splattered, has haunted me the past week, I was hit with the biggest rush of new-found love for this character, and a fierce desire to protect him. Andrew frickin’ Minyard. This dude. I love him. I need to protect him.

Anyways.

Life goes on, I guess?

Neil didn’t know if [the six cops arriving at the Hemmicks’ house] had nothing better to do on a Sunday night or if they’d come following the slip of Kevin Day’s name over the police radio.

Are you telling me Kevin has fanboys in the frickin’ police. Seriously?

I am once again doubting how big of a deal Exy actually is.

After the authorities arrive, one half of the squad is shipped off to the police station, the other to the hospital. What a way to end a Thanksgiving dinner. Amazing. 10/10 would thanksgive again.

Going to the hospital has one silver lining, though (apart from the murder kitten getting medical attention ofc):

Wymack is there!

“Kevin called me,” Wymack said.

Neil did the math in his head, but it didn’t add up. (…) The only way Wymack could be standing here now was if Kevin called him when he first went downstairs to get Nicky. Knowing Kevin, Neil bet Wymack got the call before 911 did.

FOX DAD :’((((((( <33333 #phonesoutforwymack #dicksoutforwymack

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth,” Wymack said.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Yeah, hombre. You’re not speaking to the police, you’re not speaking to Wymack – why the hell not? They’re not after you, they’re after getting the truth on how Andrew was abused, which will considerably lessen your guilt (as opposed to them just assuming you murdered that guy for the fun of it), which is in your best fucking interest.

So???????

Something like this demanded complete honesty, and Neil had been lying since he was old enough to speak. He didn’t know how to tell the truth now. If he tried, would it still be the truth, or would he poison the words by saying them aloud?

Alright, honestly, this is one of the moments where Neil just annoys the crap out of me.

Like. There is no actual fucking reason for you not to help your friends (and you, might I add) out of this shitty ass situation, yet you don’t do it because of your fucking angst.

Chill the fuck out and get the fuck real. No one is asking you to tell them your life story, they just need a witness of what happened in that godawful room.

Help your fucking friends out, Josten. Stop whining, help your friends and help yourself.

They get Andrew out of the hospital, they get back to the cousin’s house, and before they even set foor in the door, we get another Prime Andreil Real Talk Time:

“You helped create this mess. The least you could do is help clean it up.” (…)

He wanted to say this wasn’t his fault, but they both knew it was. Andrew hadn’t told him about Drake, but he’d said Luther betrayed his trust. Instead of listening to that, Neil sided with Nicky’s hopeful grief. He hadn’t invited Drake to South Carolina, but he’d delivered Andrew into his waiting arms.

Hold up, hold up, hold up. I get the point, but still, this is not Neil’s fucking fault.

Andrew had said Luther “betrayed his trust”, that could have meant anything from “Luther told people I’m borderline alcoholic” to “Luther told people I’m gay”. It certainly did not immediately suggest something like Drake fucking Spear.

Neil helped create this mess, yes. But he did not do it intentionally, and you can bet your ass he wouldn’t have pushed Andrew to go to South Carolina if he had known what it would mean for him.

It’s Drake’s fault for being such an absolute fucker, and it is Luther’s fault for inviting him back into his home despite knowing what he had done in the past.

Also – two can play the guilt game:

“So you did nothing,” Neil said. “You almost put a knife between Nicky’s ribs when he flirted with me, but you didn’t lift a finger to protect Cass’ other children. You knew what Drake would do to them but you didn’t protect them.”

Not entirely true either – he did lift a finger by telling the only responsible adult he knew at the time who wasn’t Drake’s parents or Higgins (who was pals with Drake): Luther.

And Luther told him he was wrong. He was misunderstanding the situation.

My blood still fucking boils when I think of that expression. I could retch, cry, and yell at the same time.

“Is this how you stayed quiet?” Neil reached up and took hold of Andrew’s wrist. He couldn’t feel the scars through the cotton sleeve, but he didn’t need to. He knew they were there. (…) “Did you do this so you wouldn’t tell her the truth about her son?”

“Maybe I did.”

ANDREW :’(((((((((((((((

Protect him.

“All you had to do was to hold out until graduation and then she would adopt you. So what went wrong?”

Yeah – remember how I jokingly mentioned Kevin having A Thing for choking way back in Book 1?

GUESS WHAT RECURRING INTERROGATION TECHNIQUE-SLASH-KINK IS FUCKING BACK.

Andrew’s fingers slowly tightened until Neil couldn’t breathe anymore. He refused to shake Andrew off. The tightness in his chest started as simple discomfort but spread until it felt like every bone in his chest would break beneath the pressure.

Seriously, WHY is there so much choking happening in these books.

I can hear y’all going, oh Nicki, wait a second, that wasn’t sexual though, that was only the usual shade of violent we know and love, where’s the sexual tension that should accompany this?

Instead of letting go, Andrew slid is hand around the back of Neil’s neck and pulled him in close. He put his mouth at Neil’s ear and lowered his voice.

WHOMP – THERE IT IS.

“Drake deferred his enlistment,” Andrew said. “He wanted to make the most of his last summer with his baby brother. (…) He wanted to get [Aaron and I] in the same place. He could imagine what we’d look like in bed together, he said. It’s be picture perfect.”

I am legit close to retching on my bed.

Seriously, this came like a punch to the gut – mostly because I’d suspected something like this earlier when we saw how protective Andrew was of Aaron concerning Drake.

[Neil] needed to know if Andrew was screaming behind the euphoria his drugs fed his veins. But Andrew wasn’t, and Neil couldn’t live with that. (…) Tonight didn’t mean anything to him. This was a setback Andrew could sidestep and ignore.

And again – punch to the gut.

What the hell.

I am both hella scared and unbelievably sad. Also, did I mention I want to protect this sick, terrifying dude.

In better news – didn’t I mention, ages ago, how I hope Betsy Dobson comes back lots of times to grace us with wise insights and hot cocoa?

“Are you still here, Bee?”

“For a few moments longer,” Betsy said. “The milk’s almost done heating. I picked some up on the way so we could have some cocoa. (…) If we start drinking it now, we can probably make ourselves sick off of it by midnight.”

Oh my god. YES.

It’s been too long, but I can finally bring this back – it’s #cocoaoutforbetsy ALL THE FUCKING WAY.

I missed our Ravenclaw Molly Weasley <33333

Neil couldn’t believe her. Chocolate wasn’t a fix-it; it wouldn’t make any of this easier to stomach.

Neil Josten has obviously never had chocolate.

I also now desperately want to do a cosplay shoot where all the Foxes just hang out and drink hot chocolate.

“Neil,” Wymack said.

“I’m fine,” Neil said.

Wymack said nothing immediately, then, “Be fine inside where it’s warmer.”

Sassy Wymack is the best Wymack.

Also, can Neil stop being fucking fine.

I mean, it’s a meme and it’s funny, but it’s also worrying the shit out of me.

A couple of hours later – after Neil has had his patented Angst Run™ and Exhaustion Nap™ - Wymack tries talking some sense into him again:

“Your testimony could speed the process up, you know. You’re the only one besides Andrew and Aaron who was in that room when Drake died, and since Andrew won’t talk either –“

That’s what I fucking SAID. Thank you Wymack, my dude, my man, for having my back.

Also, Andrew’s not talking either even though it – surprise! – would benefit him immensely as well? Amazing. Stunning. These two are meant to fucking be.

“Get back to bed.”

“I’m fine.” It was out between he could stop it. (…)

“Neil,” Wymack said, “between you and me, I don’t think you’ve ever been fine.”

This is potentially the best sentence anyone has ever said to Neil this entire series.

WYMACK MY DUDE.

In his own interest, and because I love and care about this dude – call him out on his ‘Fine’ bullshit. Please.

And as if the angels above (read: Certified Fox Parents™ Wymack, Abby and Betsy) had heard my prayers: Neil gets pressured into running errands with Bee the next morning, which Bee promptly turns into Fun Psychoanalysis Hour.

“[Nicky] is lucky to have a friend like you worrying about him.”

“I’m not his friend,” Neil said, “I’m his teammate. (…) What do I need friends for? I came down here to play.”

There are times where Neil just really, really annoys the shit out of me.

This is one of those times.

Like – I get that he’s miserable. I get that he’s angsty. It’s entirely justified. But he gets friends and support handed to him on a platter over and over again – and he refuses to accept it.

And I realized he’ll learn to accept it by the end of the books, he’ll grow into it, he’ll learn to let love in his life, blablabla, all good, all well. But right now, it’s just grinding my gears so much.

In other news – we are now halfway!

Not with the book, but with the entire series!

I’m equal parts sad, excited and glad – sad because that means it’ll end some time, excited for what’s to come, but also (not going to lie to you here) glad it’s ending at some point, because this is just really beginning to take up a lot of my time.

Don’t get me wrong, I love it dearly, I’m glad I’m doing it and I would not want to quit it at any point. But it’s also a lot of work.

And also – that is just halfway? I feel like we’ve been at these books for ages, and so much has happened already. This means we’ve only uncovered about half of all the shit that’s going to go down? What more fuckery could there be??

I have a very strong feeling I don’t want that question answered.

Back to Bee and Neil.

“You can’t choke back on everything forever,” Betsy said. “You need an outlet, whether it’s with me or David or your teammates.”

“I don’t need anyone.”

YES YOU BLOODY DO.

I’m v v happy about Actual Angel Bee Dobson pushing Neil towards the healthy and glittering Road Of Mental Health – even if he’s grinding his small angst-ridden orange heels into the ground refusing to budge an inch.

Somebody’s fucking got to help that boy.

Betsy and Neil go shopping, buy Neil a new racquet (RIP Wymack’s bank account) and get Andrew’s knives and keys from the Hemmicks house. Nothing interesting to report here. Next!

“Where are Nicky and Kevin?”

“Nicky tried to hug Andrew and almost got himself stabbed with a kitchen knife,” Wymack said.

In the words of a wise man chapters ago: Dammit Minyard, this is why we can’t have nice things.

NICKY :’((((((((((( <333333

#givenickyallthehugs2k17

However, Neil does not give Nicky all the hugs – instead, he frequents one of his all-time favourite hobbies: Eavesdropping on people.

“This is the only ethical solution,” Betsy said.

What? What is? Solution to what?

“Andrew won’t agree to this,” Abby said, a last-ditch effort to change their minds. “Going means leaving Kevin behind.”

Andrew? Going?? Going where???

Neil ignored [Abby] and insisted, “Where are you taking him?”

“Easthaven Hospital,” Betsy said. “I’m going to take Andrew off his medicine.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m sorry, did I mention how Betsy is the best person in this entire series?? Did I?? DID I???

Apart from Wymack and Renee, of course.

Andrew going off his medicine!! Yes!! Fucking FINALLY!!

I’m excited for this because of plot reasons – what will Andrew be like off his meds? More scary? More mellow? Will he still pretend not to care about Exy? Will he still pretend not to care about Neil? Actually – will he still feel the same at all, both about Exy and Neil?

But in all honesty, I’m mostly excited for this because of the simple reason that I want Andrew Joseph Minyard to be happy and healthy.

That’s all I want.

He’d wanted to hurt Betsy in the car for reinforcing the rules of Andrew’s awful medicine. She hadn’t defended herself because she knew she didn’t need to. She knew just like he did how cruel it was to keep Andrew on his drugs, and she’d already reached out to the people who could help him.

And apparently, that’s all Betsy wants as well.

I cannot thank the universe enough for the existence of this woman.

If you like what I do here and you want to help me continue writing, please consider buying me a coffee! Thank you so much <3

#nicki reads tfc #trk #tfc #aftg #the foxhole court #the raven king #all for the game #nora sakavic #kink: andrew finally getting the help he needs and deserves

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sweetwriting · 7 years

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Tim Drake Week 2017 - Day 5 : Injury / Healing

Category : Gen

Genre : Angst / Family

Fandoms : DC Comics, Batman (1940), Detective Comics, Robin v4 (1993), Red Robin (2009), Teen Titans (2003)

Continuity : Post-Crisis/Pre-Flashpoint

Summary : So maybe Tim loved Dick too much, but to be fair Dick was the only person he had to love for a long time.

Author’s notes : This one’s about Tim and Dick’s BROTHERLY relationship Also I try to keep most of the fics for this Week less than 1000 words...I have failed yet again

Word Count : 2827

To read it on AO3

Tim, as can be expected from any non-powered person running around in costume fighting criminals, had received many injuries in the past four years (as proved by his asplenia). Physical, psychological (thank you Scarecrow, Darkseid and Granny Goodness, you've been some of the worse) and emotional, he went through them all. It probably did not help that he was from a rich family (no matter how reckless he could be sometimes, he still lived in as safe an environment Gotham or boarding school for Richie rich (white) kids could be) or that he wasn't very emotionally stable to begin with (he never realized it until he got the chance to open up to his friends and they looked at him as if he was the "saddest little bean" ever -Conner's own words. He hadn't known Bart and Conner were able to feel like this toward anything other than children, women or TV shows and Video Games).

So yeah, lots and lots of bad History there. Still the worse injuries had been the emotional and psychological ones (he still had nightmares about their time on Apokalips, he still sees the nightmares Granny Goodness had created for him, he had nightmares where he didn't "turn down" the Anti-Life Equation and those were often mixed with memories of a future where he became a dictator, where he had managed to clone Conner). The worse ones though were the deaths : Steph, Bart Cass. It didn't matter if some ended up not being real he was still forced to start grieving and psychology hadn't really caught up on how to react to your friends coming back to life. There was also that time he was preparing himself for Dick joining the list (he honestly doesn't know what would have happened to him if Dick had died) and Dana, though not physically wounded was pretty much unable to handle a complete conversation or even take care of herself. His mother and father were special cases themselves as what hurt the most was never knowing what could have been and knowing what never was. Then there were the harshest ones : Conner's and Bruce's. They had both impacted him so deeply he didn't think he would ever truly heal from them. Conner's because, well because he's his best friends, one of the most important people in his life (and hadn't that been an unexpected turn) and Bruce, well, because it's Bruce. Tim became Robin to protect him from himself (and barely lasted four years and a half). But everything that happened because of his death made it worse.

And that's what this is about right ?

Tim loves Dick. He has since he was 3. Dick was his role model, then his big brother, one of the rare people he could confide in (After Conner's death, when they were gone and later on learning Bart's "disappearing act" he became pretty much the only one aside from Cassie sometimes). The tragedy of Dick's childhood shaped his life.

And Dick chose Damian. He knew that he had failed Bruce but he still deserved to be Robin and yet Dick had chosen this homicidal kid for the role. And of course, Dick was the new Batman, the former Robin, of course his vision for the role is what mattered most. But...Tim was the one who had...he had to force Bruce to take on a new Robin, he worked himself almost to the death to be worthy of the mantle and it was taken from him. Dick didn't even have the gut to tell him he just...he was walking in to get changed Damian was wearing a Robin uniform. Was it that hard to tell him? Was it because of his theory that Bruce is alive? Did Dick think he was so mad with grief he really didn't deserve the mantle? What was Tim supposed to do? He just said that it was because he thought he was ready to be his own hero. But then why not talk it through with him? He didn't even have the time to choose a new name and he had to find Bruce. He didn't *have* the time for that. How could Dick do that to him. How could he suggest that Tim was mad when he was the one running away from his grief? Dick was the one who got angry at Bruce Oh so many times because he made decisions without consulting the people concerned and Dick did exactly the same with Tim.

The hypocrisy was daunting. Tim had always known that Dick was more similar to Bruce than either of them would admit. But they were similar and it made Tim so, so sad. he didn't know what to do.

Yes, he did.

He had to find Bruce. Because Bruce has to be alive. Because he needs to not be mad. Because his brother, his model admitted that Tim just wasn't enough. No matter the excuses he tried to give, at the end of the day, Tim lost his second father in a year and his brother took the last thing Tim had from him. Took the last bit of anything right in his life away from him to give it to someone who had tried only a few months prior to kill him in order to become Robin. And well Tim had just lost the two things he had left. Damian had reached his goal even if it wasn't in the way he had expected.

But Tim still had one thing to do and he couldn't actually die until it was done. He had to bring Bruce back home.

Bruce had been back for a year now. Tim…still hadn't really talked with either of them.

The truth is that he spent most of his downtime with Conner, Bart, Cassie, or any of the Titans (it turns out Solstice had actually met his father when he went out on a dig once) rather than try to talk to any of the Bats outside of Barbara, Alfred and Cass.

He and Steph had a truce and they could work together if they had to but it was still awkward. They had, after all always had this on and off relationship which only stopped when she died. Her coming back to life ended up with him being confused about which part he was supposed to be feeling : wanting to start again like they always did ? or just try and be friends ? Because it wasn't like it had been with Ariana, when he had pretty much already moved on when they broke up. His and Steph's break up was sudden to him (even if in retrospect he realized it was bound to happen soon enough) and her death only happened within a few weeks of it. He never had the time to realize a car hit him before a truck hit him harder. And this time it seemed to be truly over but what do you do when you have a history of going back to this person, even if you have realized you only did it because of familiarity? Because you missed having intimacy with someone and it was just easier to fall back into a known situation even if it wasn't an ideal one, even if you knew it was going to end badly but couldn't help hoping it wouldn't simply out of fear of being alone, out of fear of never finding anyone you could get this intimacy with.

Tim wished he had an answer to this question but the truth is that he was still struggling. He was lucky he had his friends back to keep him out of Gotham on a regular basis, to be in a somewhat supportive environment. It wasn't perfect obviously, they all had their own issues and Conner and Cassie's strained relationship wasn't easy especially for him and Bart. Because while they were all best friends Bart and him were better friends with Conner than they were with Cassie and Cassie knew it and even if neither tried to make them chose between them (it wasn't a "who to side with" choice obviously, more of "who gets to keep who" kind of choice) they all knew what that choice would be, especially for Tim (Bart might choose Cassie just to counterbalance Tim's choice, even if it wouldn't be his main choice), and it hurt because they did love Cassie. So even if they didn't talk about it, the elephant was in the room. Or at least it was until Bart couldn't stand it and locked the three of them in a room until they either "killed each other, made up or had a threesome" (the last one had shocked them, both because they didn't understand why Bart would associate the idea of a threesome with them and because, even if they knew Bart had grown up and was knowledgeable about a variety of subjects, some things were still hard to swallow and Bart being aware of sex always managed to surprise them no matter how often it happened). Of course they could have gotten out easily, between the two powerhouses and Tim's own pick locking skills, it was child's play. Only, if Bart hadn't intervened, Tim wouldn't have lasted much longer. So when his friends got ready to destroy the door, he stopped them and forced them to confront their issues (it was so much easier to force other than to do it himself). And sure, just because they talked about it, it didn't mean everything was all and good but it meant that at some point it could be.

And why was he saying this? Because he was avoiding the situation at hand obviously. He was in a coffee shop, sitting across from Dick, a cup of hot chocolate filled with melting whipped cream between his hands. Cass was right, they had to talk things through. Still, she had allowed him a few months because for once in his life he felt he had a right to not forgive right away. Sure it seemed petty but, Tim always forgave people. There were only five instances when he didn't forgive right away: when Bruce had revealed his identity to Steph, when half of Young Justice had admitted to not trusting him (when Kon and Bart had admitted to not trusting him), when he learned that Leslie Thompkins and Steph had lied to them about Steph's death, when Jason had tried to kill him and when Damian had tried to kill him. And even then he had always forgiven in the weeks that followed (it took a lot longer for Leslie, Jason and Bart but the circumstances were different...and he's still struggling with the Damian situation but it's complicated and linked to this one). Simply put, Tim had to live through hell. He hadn't been sure he would survive the emotional strain and at some point he hadn't even been sure he wanted to (actually he was sure he hadn't wanted to). And of course, he wasn't the only one, he knew that but it didn't make his distress go away. So he let himself feel it, acknowledge his feelings for once (which was actively encouraged by his friends) until Cass decided enough was enough (she was right of course it was starting to wring him down, whether he managed to bridge the gap between them or not, he needed to let go).

The thing is, Dick had never apologized.

It may seem stupid but Dick was the biggest influence in his life, along with Bruce, and he had taken everything away from him without even informing him and, and he hadn't even apologized.

This was going to be long.

The whipped cream was completely melted by now. He hadn't been this awkward with Dick since Dick had been his own Batman. It was a lifetime ago (and even then the awkwardness wasn't nearly this bad). He didn't know what to say. Dick seemed to be as lost as he was and he could see Cass hovering nearby. And he couldn't hold it in anymore:

"You never apologized" he blurted out, eyes still lost in his mug.

Dick was obviously taken aback (and why wouldn't he, they had been silent for at least 5 whole minutes before Tim started talking), so he continued.

"You took the Robin mantle from me and gave it to Damian of all people. I had to work at convincing you and Bruce I deserved it and he got it almost right after Bruce's death, you didn't even have the decency to ask me if I was ready, if I was okay for it. I get why he needed it now, but back then you just sprung it on me. You did to me what you're always reproaching to Bruce. I lost my second father in a year, most of my friends were dead and you took away not only the role I had worked so hard to fill and you took my trust in you with it. You even took the trust I had in Cassie when you asked her to come and convince me I was mad. You pretty much called me crazy."

Tim stopped for a second. Taking a deep breathe he looked up from his hot chocolate. Dick seemed to be about to say something but didn't seem to be able to form any words and Tim would have interrupted him anyway. He needed to finish what he had started or he might lose al his courage :

"I know you have emotional issues, we all do, but I thought you could at least manage to apologize. I was alone Dick, I didn't feel safe anywhere because it felt like at any point you were going to send someone new to convince me to go to Arkham. And I get that you had other things to do and that all of a sudden you had other responsibilities on top of having to deal with Bruce's death but it doesn't change the fact that I was one of your responsibilities and you chose to give up on me. You acted as if I had this, big and sudden change, like my emotional instability was somehow new. Like your actions wouldn't, hadn't impacted it. It wasn't Dick and I'm sure you know it, that you knew it, but it was easier to ignore it."

And he knew it was harsh and even a little unfair, that he wasn't perfect either but it felt good to just, lay it out there. And Dick looked horrified and he probably hadn't realized how badly Tim was doing back then. Dick was usually good at pinpointing other's emotional weaknesses but for some reason he had never seemed to really see Tim's. He tried to reach out from across the table, tried to take Tim's hands in his own because, for once, he really needed this bit of contact. But the action surprised Tim who retracted them quickly. They both winced at the reflexive movement which was oh so reflecting of the state of their relationship. Still it seemed to renew Dick's determination and while he didn't try to touch Tim again, he made sure to look him in the eye as he spoke to him :

"You're right I'm sorry. I have no actual excuse for this except that I didn't realize what it was doing to you. I honestly thought you were ready to fly on your own and that Damian needed to be Robin in order to adjust better and I didn't think about how it'd affect you. I said it was because I considered you my equal and still pulled a Bruce and took you out of the decision-making process. And you're right I should have apologized long ago but I didn't really comprehend what had gone wrong until now and I'm so sorry. I promise I'll try to work on it but, I'm not a mind reader. You also have to promise that if I ever do something like that again you will knock some sense into me. Like you usually do with Bruce"

And that was it. Tim didn't really need some long-winded apology. This was enough : acknowledging their faults and promising they'd at least try to get better

And sure, as with Conner and Cassie's resolution, things were far from perfect and wouldn't be for a long while. But as he was suddenly enveloped in his big brother's arms (which was a nice change from Bart, Cassie and Conner, no matter how much he loved the little massaging Conner did around his ears during their half hugs)…as he finally, and for the first time in over a year, truly felt that he was loved by Dick instead of just guessing, thinking, supposing, deducing…Now that he truly felt it, knew it for sure; he had hope that he could really salvage their relationship.

Author’s Note 2 : This work is un-betaed, if you have any advice or anything don't hesitate to tell me (no I'm not fishing for comments I have no idea what you mean)I didn't talk about Tim's suicidal attempts, especially not in the conversation because I don't think either of them are ready to even start thinking about it, much less talking about it.I have put some TimKonCassie again, for a ship that I don't ship it sure comes up often (then again in all of their comics versions Kon and Cassie's relationship almost always only exist through Tim. so if I write about KonCassie it's gonna end up being KonTimCassie...)There's a tiny bit of sexism at the beginning, it's because -sadly- the 90's were a quite sexist time (not that it's much better today) and some, tendencies of the heroes reflect that (except for Kon who was actually not *that* bad, for various reasons I won't get into here until around the 60-70 issues of his first Superboy series and especially Joe Kelly and Dan Didio's run at whichpoint he became a fuckboy and even a tad homophobic (oh I long for the time when he barely batted an eyelash when he learned that his then best friend was gay and thought he and his bf were a cute couple...)), it was a time full of comments that "when cute girl talking to you/you talking to cute girl = flirting even if you're not actually interested"...

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archivesdiveronarpg · 7 years

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Congratulations, CASS! You’ve been accepted for the role of CORIOLANUS. I don’t think you realize how absolutely, completely, utterly over the moon I am to have Verona’s favorite princeling join our ranks! Cass, your application perfectly captured Coriolanus. It was effortless, simple, and had my heart aching. That’s what Cyrus makes people do, he has them on their knees for him simply because he bats his lashes and asks them to do so. I don’t know what I’m looking forward to more -- Cyrus reaping his vengeance upon all of Verona or simply obtaining retribution on his mother dearest. Thank you for this beautiful application, Cass, I can’t wait to see Coriolanus on the dash! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within twenty-four hours.

Out of Character

Alias | Cass

Age | 21

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | I am, admittedly, well, me.I am around everyday to chat plots and connections, and around (normally) at least every other day to write replies or starters or drabbles. Spring break is coming up, and I’ve balanced a few new things in my life, so I’m anticipating my activity picking up within the next few weeks, as well!

Timezone | US EST

In Character

Character | CORIOLANUS, CYRUS SLOANE

What drew you to this character? | I was excited from the teaser, honestly, and the bio only strengthened my passion for Cyrus. I love how there are various features of his past that factor into who he has become (for example, spoiling being the source of rot rather than sheer anger or abandonment issues) and how those facets manifest themselves into a duality between what he shows the world and what he sees in himself.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

1. Plotting: Recently back in Verona, Cyrus still has several plans to finalize and a handful that have yet to be created. This is largely going to be the connection phase of his character development, and it involves getting close to people, learning secrets, and gaining trust. Thus, this is the most immediate plot, and Cyrus will act in a manner of angelic innocence while planning precisely what to do with all the power he’s slowly gaining. After all, good things take time. 2. Conquest: The time to act upon plans. This is the beginning of Verona falling, of Cyrus pitting two sides against one another until there ceases to be loyalties and breeds only chaos. This is the time to sit back and watch the world bleed, to see his wounds reflect upon the place that bred them years ago. 3. Retribution: Coincides with conquest, but on a far more personal level. This is for the people who have personally wronged him – specifically Mother. This is when her empire falls and his own begins, when he proves that abandonment only results on barren ruins and the ghosts that wander them. 4. Order: More an aspiration of Cyrus’ than necessarily a plot idea, the drive to create order from the chaos. To raze to the ground and rebuild so that Verona is a pedestal beneath him. To have Verona at his feet simply because the city has forgotten how to stand. To rule.

In Depth

What is your favorite place in Verona?

Cyrus’ eyes widened as he lowered his cup of coffee, obvious caught in half-sip. He waved his hand and reached for a napkin, dabbing his lips as he swallowed before exhaling as if he had endured a hard day’s worth of work.

“Sorry about that,” he said, straightening once more. “But my favorite place? Well, it certainly isn’t the streets. Too much trash, too little fresh air. I tend to be fond of the stores, but even they can get so crowded that they become more work than they’re worth. If I had to choose a single place, I would say the Cathedral. You can find peace there.” And every weapon that he would ever needed rested inside of it. God’s words protected an arsenal and his pews hosted an army that was just chomping at the bit for action, to tear someone else to shreds in the name of greater loyalty or personal gain. And she was here, reigning for only so long, only until her might collapsed around her, only until she was buried in her own rubble.

What does your typical day look like?

“A lot like this,” he answered, gesturing around him. A cup of coffee rested on the table (filled with precisely three sugar cubes) while shopping bags rested at his feet, sporting names from Armani to Valentino. They were so gaudy that they spoke for themselves, and Cyrus felt comfortable leaving his lie there while the truth rested in plain sight behind him. There was a bag, slightly more tattered than someone of his composure would usually carry, and it was filled with tattered journals and newspaper clippings. It housed all of his thoughts, written in Afrikaans and bursting with all the public details of the people who held Verona upon their backs. Old articles spoke of the “terrorist” attacks that the media was too scared to link publically to the mobs. An image of Verona as it now stood was created by mixing all the things in that pack, and Cyrus carried it with him everywhere. As soon as something new filtered through the streets, it was incorporated into the old-fashioned database, and that night, plans were updated, refined, articulated. The day was full of reconnaissance and the night was full of work.

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

“You waste no time in asking the heavy questions, do you? It’s admirable to be so forward.” Cyrus laughs like bubbles and his grin flashes like gold, falsely promising that everything is meant in good spirit without an ounce of vitriol. “I think that it needs to be resolved, and quickly. It’s tearing the city apart, and soon the whole of Verona will be noticing. Better to bring about peace before they try any other stunts.” He shook his head, falling into a mask of false sadness, of regret that he couldn’t have arrived prior to the bombing. He was the perfect image of a Capulet Emissary, ready to find peace and restore the order of the mobs.

Inside, it was a different story. This war was an opportunity just waiting to be exploited – and how no one had seized the chance yet was beyond Cyrus. A war like this would have never lasted long in South Africa without someone new rising from the ashes. There, people knew when the exploit weakness. In Verona, people seemed to be falling subject to it. It was time for a bit of foreign intervention in his hometown. Brought in to restore order to Verona, Cyrus was more than prepared to have precisely what he wanted: a new order under his regime.

In-Character Para Sample:

Cyrus Sloane always got what he wanted. From the time he was thirteen and requesting a pool table in his room to when he was eighteen and simply asking for Cape Town to bow at his feet, there was no resistance, no one was willing to tell him no. So imagine his surprise when he approached one of the clubs in Milan dressed to the nines, full of confidence, oozing sweetness – and was turned away.

“You’re not on the list, sir, and it’s a closed party.” The usher had left it at that, obviously fixating on a point just past Cyrus’ head as he spoke.

A lesser man would have thrown a fit then, or sidled up closer to the usher with intent in their fingertips, but both efforts would be fruitless. This was one of the most exclusive locations in the city, and settling into normal habits would yield little (if any) success. To make a scene would mean becoming memorable for all the wrong reasons, so Cyrus fell into an easy display of disappointment.

“Of course, I understand,” he said, stepping back and pulling a broken smile. He didn’t wait around for the usher to take pity, but instead turned back towards the line. It should only take five or so seconds, he guessed, and he began the countdown.

Five. A group of girls were cooing about how it was such a shame the list couldn’t be expanded. Four. A man was looking anywhere but him. Three. A couple fell into hushed whispered. Two. A child asked why this wasn’t like school, why everyone wasn’t invited. One.

“Hey.”

Cyrus glanced up, coming eye-to-eye with a woman approximately his age and perhaps dressed even better than he was. Careful to keep disappointment evident, he forced a small smile and hoped to look every bit like a kicked puppy. Something flickered in the woman’s eyes, and Cyrus knew that he was in.

“My date ditched me last minute,” she said, shrugging her shoulders as if she hadn’t been hurt by it at all. “Replace him, and I’ll get you in.”

Cyrus visibly brightened, going so far as to straighten his shoulders and erase all remain cracks of downtrodden deflation. “Shame he couldn’t make it, but I might need to write him a thank you note in the morning.” He slowly reached for the woman’s hand and, when she didn’t pull away, raised it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Answer enough?” he asked, smiling at her.

She pulled her hand away and flushed, falling into a modesty that could only be brought around by those surpassed by their forwardness. “Keep that up, and I’ll stop thinking of you as a replacement in no time at all.”

A laugh, and then they were walking into the club arm in arm. The usher glanced at him, surprised, as he stepped up to the line again, but this time the red velvet rope was pulled aside. Minutes later, he was alive with the wash of music and the thrum of elite company.

It was a golden rule of playing games with charm and will: there was always a way to get exactly what you wanted. Sacrifices were a thing of the past.

Extras: If you have anything else you’d like to include (further headcanons, an inspo tag, a mock blog, etc), feel free to share it here!

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/1299363955/playlist/3M0vhMqeSJL7d2izIpRQir

#accepted #accepted: coriolanus

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desperatelyseekingroleplay · 6 years

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Seeking Multi-Muse Para Partner

About Me: My name is Marissa and I have been role playing for 10 years. I am a 26 year old female living in the United States.

Style: I write in multi-muse 3rd person para format with (up to) 5x5 OC muses between the ages of 18-30 depending on plot/subject matter.

Time: CST

Availability: Afternoons-Evenings (I don't work in the summer). If I am not responding promptly, I tend to let my partners know why / how long I will be out.

RP Mediums: Discord, Tumblr (I will create a private side-blog for this plot and ask that you do the same), Skype, and Email.

Preferences: I prefer to play male muses, but I like to play up to 1 female muse for balance. My muses are typically heterosexual but I can be flexible. I dislike purple-prose. I enjoy angst and drama most of all, and tend to create drama between my muses. I enjoy playing antagonists.

Characters: My male characterizations are flexible to my para partners as I like to build muses from the ground up, tailoring them to the plot design that has been chosen. The only character I have that is inflexible is my female muse, as I rarely have muse to create other female muses and she works well for the plot I am seeking. (link to muse bio)

Plot: The plot will follow the lives of wealthy Manhattan socialites with OCs nodding specifically to the Gossip Girl series minus Gossip Girl herself. This plot is generally flexible since character bios / story line is most important.

Limits: I am comfortable with smut but I avoid it as much as possible since it is time consuming, especially with multiple muses. I have no triggers, but I will not RP gore or go into graphic detail regarding sexual violence.

Rules: RP partners must be 18+, preferably female (flexible). Partners must indicate age, and triggers / limits.

Disclaimers: Heavy references to drugs / substance use will be present, along with a possibility for violence / intimate partner violence, infidelity, suicide, mention of sexual violence, weapons, prostitution, and strong language.

Contact: Send me a/n ask / message here

Thread Example:

“I’m really sorry. I tried to get here as fast as I could.” Walter told Cassidy once again. He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arm around her small waist. “But I got you a present.” The teenager whispered secretively, not intent to give it to her until the party was over.

Slade caught Alexis looking at him and he gave her a flirtatious wink. The two had hardly spoken in over a month. It was no secret that Alexis wasn’t speaking to him any longer. After almost a year of dating she decided that their relationship simply wasn’t worth the extra baggage that was Slade’s temper. He watched as she walked off toward the bar, grinning at the little swing in her hips and wondering if she did that on purpose. A few conversations later Slade found himself gravitating toward her, leaning casually against the bar and asking for a glass of Cognac. “You’re not good at pretending, you know that.” He told her. “You’re a worse liar than Walter, but I’m not quite as dense as poor Cassidy.” He tutted, accepting his drink from the bartender and taking a thoughtful sip. “Poor Cassidy. She really is clueless, isn’t she? I mean she invited me.” He shrugged, clearly mocking Alexis for treating him like some dangerous pariah.

Realizing they were now alone, Cassidy relaxed into Walters embrace. She sighed softly and nodded as he once again apologized. While it hadn’t been the best start to the night, she was intent on the ending being great. He was here now, and so perhaps that plan could be set into motion. For already her mood was picking up - and the mention of a present only caused her to perk up further within his arms. ❝You didn’t have to get me anything! But what is it?❞ Cassidy couldn’t help it. Curiosity would be the death of her, but she bounced upon the balls of her feet anyways and gazed up at him with wide eyes and a smile. All traces of her former worry and anger forgotten in an instant. Now it felt more like her birthday.

Where the HELL was Paris? She had been at the bar earlier, and Alexis KNEW the older girl wouldn’t have ducked out. Not yet at least. The group loved Cassidy - and therefore they’d stick around as long as she wanted them to. So perhaps she was out on the balcony smoking out some poor kid who thought they could get the best of her. Alexis had ordered a second drink - or was it her third - before she decided it was time to find her dark haired friend, but she didn’t quite get that far. Not when Slade slid up besides her with that damned smirk upon his face. Shoulders instantly deflated and the red head sighs. No use in running away. ❝No bodies a worse liar then Walt. And Cass see’s it … at least some of the time. She just loves the poor bastard too much to do anything about it. ❞ Alexis’ brows furrowed slightly as she lifted her glass towards her lips, sipping quietly for a moment before defending her friend - after all, it wasn’t long ago that she had been much like the blonde, and it didn’t sit well with her to hear what he had to say. ❝ She invited you because SHE likes you. And she’s convinced your not an asshole. So why don’t you try and prove her right huh? I for one would LOVE to see that.❞

“If I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” Walter argued. He kissed his girlfriend’s forehead before pulling back and reaching for another class of champagne from a passing waiter. He took a more dignified sip than the last one, intent on behaving for Cassidy’s sake. “Your parents aren’t home, right? I was thinking I could stay the night.” He suggested. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stay over when her parents weren’t home. There was something eerie about staying in such a big apartment on ones own, but that didn’t mean the two were experimenting. Up to now, even considering how long the two had been together, Cassidy had not yet agreed to have sex with him. “We can have our own celebration later. Eat leftover cake, and watch a movie?” Walter suggested. “Anything you wanna watch. Even those sappy ones.”

Alexis obviously wasn’t ready to get back together. Slade did his best to convince her that breaking up with him was a hasty and unwise decision, but to no avail. His hand rested on the small of her back, a gesture that felt natural when they were dating. “I’m not acting like an asshole.” He argued with a shake of his head and a cocky smile. The male glanced around Cassidy’s living room, observing those in attendance and leaning in close so that only she would hear him. “So just out of curiosity, how many of the guys in here have you already wrapped your legs around since we quit dating?” His hand moved from her back to her hip, pulling her against his side. Slade took another sip of his Cognac. “You know I get jealous.”

❝FINE. I’ll wait.❞ Cheeks puff out dramatically as Cassidy claims defeat, but a smile soon reclaims her features. She doesn’t really mind waiting - just so long as everyone’s having fun. Eyes sweep the room and she spots Slade just as he reaches out towards Alexis and that smile only grows. Even after Alexis had once tried to explain it, the blonde never really understood the pairs break up. And as she noticed her friend NOT pull away instantly, there was hope for something there. Her attention is brought back to Walter however soon after, as his question is made aloud and she nods. ❝Yeah, they’re gone all weekend. Wanted me to have fun without them hovering I guess. I’d like that. Are you sure you wanna give me that kind of power though? You DO know I own the notebook on DVD right? You really wanna not give an input?❞ Cassidy chuckles softly as she toys with the boys tie, and she feels at ease here. In his arms, surrounded by friends.

❝I beg to differ.❞ It’s a simple retort. One that she had planned on expanding, before his hand pressed itself onto her back gently. As if they were still together - still lovers. Alexis frowns, but for some reason finds herself not pulling away. For it HAD felt natural, and as much as she wished it didn’t any more, that simply wasn’t the case. Though as he lent in and whispered his far too personal question, the teen tenses on the spot. ❝That is NONE of your business Slade. I don’t care what you think you don’t own me.❞ And with that, her free hand reaches downward to grip at his wrist. She doesn’t want to make a scene, so the warning only reaches her eyes for the moment. ❝And you DON’T get to touch me anymore without permission.❞

#Desperately Seeking Roleplay #Writing Partner Wanted #Roleplay Partner Wanted #Roleplay Partner Ad #Roleplay Partner Search #Roleplay Partner Needed #Rp Buddy Search #Rp Partner Needed #Rp Partner Wanted #Rp Partner Ad #Rp Partner Search #Original Roleplay Wanted #Long Term Roleplay Wanted #21+ Roleplay Wanted #SFW Roleplay Wanted #Slice of Life Roleplay Wanted #Seeking Roleplay Partner #submission

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dessarious · 4 years

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Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt73

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Marinette could only sigh. She knew Chloe was still pissed at Damian for the way that had happened but she hadn’t expected her to start up the argument with his family present. She also had to wonder at the girls end game because there was no way this was it.

“It wasn’t optimal, but things worked out for the best in the end. Granted when a girl tells you to get out of their bedroom you may want to listen in the future.” Damian turned the full force of his glare on her until one of his brothers, Jason if she remembered correctly, opened his mouth.

“And what were you doing in her bedroom Demon Spawn? I knew the two of you had to be more than just friends for you to be willing to freeze us out like that.” Marinette watched Damian turn his glare on his sibling and Chloe was growling again. So apparently friendly teasing wasn’t appropriate around his family.

“I believe I told you the last time I was here that things weren’t like that, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop making such insinuations in front of my girlfriend.” Her tone was full of haughty disdain, a tone she’d learned from Chloe over the years. Jason just gaped at her, looking between her and Chloe, who hadn’t bothered to stop growling. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the grateful look Damian shot her before it turned into bored annoyance. “Just because no female is willing to invite you into their personal space doesn’t mean everyone suffers the same deficiency.”

“Oh I like her. We should definitely keep her.” Just about everyone in the room started when Cass spoke then most burst into laughter and started teasing Jason. Marinette took the opportunity to talk quietly to Chloe.

“I don’t know what your goal is but you have no idea what the dynamics between Damian and his family are. There could be a good reason he hasn’t told them about things yet and you pushing the issue is really not helping.” She felt more than heard the other girl let out a sigh.

“Fine, but he’s going to have to do something if he wants to stay in Paris. What other excuse can he give but the truth?” Marinette frowned in thought. She had a point but Damian was resourceful, he’d figure something out. “That was an impressive display of creating chaos though bug. I’m starting to think you should have been the one to get Plagg.” She gave a non committal hum before once again resting her chin on Chloe’s shoulder to watch the fall out.

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Outwardly Damian kept a bored look but inside he felt like smirking. Marinette was very good at misdirection. He glanced over to see how Luka was reacting to the insanity that was his family and noticed his father and Babs headed towards Marinette and Chloe. He moved closer, not sure if he was more worried about his father or Chloe saying something about him.

“Mlle. Dupain-Cheng-”

“Please call me Marinette.” He saw his father's eye twitch in surprise that she’d interrupted him while Babs didn’t bother trying to hide her smile.

“Marinette then. I wanted to thank you for helping Damian. He seems to have grown a lot as a person under your influence.” Marinette and Chloe both just frowned at him. Even Babs was side eyeing him. Marinette put on her most innocent and wide eyed expression and he was honestly frightened of what was going to come out of her mouth.

“Well, perhaps if you’d treated him as an individual and a valuable member of your team instead of an addon or a spare he would have been able to grow here.” When he’d told her all of his frustrations at being treated like a child rather than a teammate by his entire family he hadn’t really considered how protective she was with people she considered friends. Not that he would admit to being her friend mind you. His father was too stunned to respond for a moment.

“Damian is still young and learning. I treat him as such.” Marinette and Chloe were giving him the exact same bland look. They were spending way too much time together.

“He goes out with the rest of your team and faces all the same dangers, exactly how does treating him differently help him or you?” Chloe’s imperious tone honestly surprised him given their general animosity towards each other.

“But if you feel that he’s doing so well in Paris maybe it would be advisable to extend his stay. Both my parents and the Mayor have already offered to house him for the duration. I really think it would be inadvisable to do anything to hamper his continuing development.” Marinette had that innocent look again. Babs was trying hard not to laugh and his father didn’t seem to be able to formulate a response.

“Obviously he should transfer to a better school. It’s utterly ridiculous that a multi billionaire would even consider enrolling his child at that cesspool regardless of the reason.” Chloe just sounded disgusted. His father finally opened his mouth to respond but Marinette just talked over him.

“There’s a great arts school where he could explore his talent in drawing since he’s already so advanced in most regular subjects. We’ll send you the application once he’s filled it out so you can sign it.” He watched as his father just nodded as the girls railroaded him. It took him a moment to realize that they’d just gotten him to agree not only to Damian staying in Paris, but had effectively gotten him transferred to the same school Luka went to.

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