#I’ve got options for fandom tagging and dc tagging

[lady-lauren]

alrighty ya girl finally got off her lazy ass and made a tag-list so pop your info on this form if you’d like to join 💕

[bluejaysandblackbats]

You're Just Like Quicksand

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Batman Beyond

Summary: Jason Todd is ready to go into semi-retirement after fifteen years working with troubled youth, but one case in particular forces him to confront the sins of his youth and painful memories from his past. (TW // Character Self Harm Mention in this chapter)

Chapters: 11/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Terry McGinnis, Warren McGinnis, Mary McGinnis, Matt McGinnis, Bruce Wayne, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): TBA

Additional Tags: Protective Jason Todd, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Retired Jason Todd, Multiple POV, Hurt/Comfort, Parent-Child Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, Angst, Mourning Jason Todd

Chapter Eleven: Second Chances (Jason Todd's POV)

Terry’s a great kid, but I couldn’t relax without watching them from my phone during the meeting. The mayor was as stressed as most people would imagine the mayor of Gotham to be. He kept clearing his throat and asking me if I needed something. “So, you want at-risk teens partnering with politicians and top executives and—.” 

“What’s wrong with that? Most executives I know have the money and resources to make their criminal histories and academic failings disappear. These kids don’t bother trying because they understand it’s not what you know it’s who you know. The least we can do to clean up this city is to ensure these kids get to know people willing to be their bridge to a better life,” I interrupted. The mayor was a pushover, and he barely knew politics. He got stuck being mayor of Gotham because no one else wanted the headache. I knew if I made him look like a classist prick on camera, he’d fold. “I came from nothing. If it hadn’t been for my father adopting me, I don’t know where I’d be today.”

I glanced at my phone and smiled at Terry cradling Avery-Marie while she sucked her thumb. “I’ve already lined up individuals interested in letting kids shadow them… And it isn’t just top execs and politicians. There are blue-collar positions as well as white. I want them to cycle through all sorts of careers. Low-income and at-risk kids deserve to know they have options no matter where they come from. I’ve known people who came from nothing, went to community colleges, and worked their way up. I handpicked individuals that these kids could relate to. I’m meticulous and active in my business, so I’d drop in to supervise… It’s all in the plans I sent you. Did you have a chance to read through?” I knew he didn’t. He skimmed it at best. “My programs have a high success rate. Literacy and graduation rates are up. We’re funding therapy, tattoo removal, gas detoxing, and—.” 

“What about your more dangerous clients?” the mayor asked. I swallowed hard. I knew he wanted to allude to the incident... And it triggered me. It was my greatest shame. I had tunnel vision, and I couldn’t hear anything outside of my children screaming. My assistant touched my shoulder. 

“Right,” I replied, “I’ve since started screening which specific kids I want to be involved in the pilot program. I’ve met each child, looked at their files, and they volunteered to do a psychological screening. I believe in second chances. I believe in people. I’ve been hurt a lot in my life, but I refuse to allow that to be my excuse for turning my back on the children here. If a city shows love to its children, I guarantee that some of them will love us in return. We can’t put an end to the city’s problems, but we can minimize the causes.” I couldn’t buckle on the issue. We went back and forth until he had no choice but to greenlight my program. 

I left the meeting feeling sick to my stomach. I splashed my face in the sink, trying to drown out the sounds of my kids’ screams. My phone rang, pulling me out of the fog. I answered without looking. “Hello?” I answered. 

“Dad… Hey, um—. Hey, Dad,” his voice shook. 

“Andrew? Hi, Drewby,” I smiled. I hadn’t heard from Andrew since the incident. He’d gone off the grid and I lost him. I didn’t know if he was dead or alive. “What’s going on?” 

“Dad, I’m in the hospital,” Andrew replied. 

“Which one?” I questioned. 

“I’ll send you the location… We should probably talk more in person. Are you busy?” Andrew replied.

“Never too busy, Drewby. Send me the location, and I’ll be there,” I answered. 

“I gotta go, but I’ll be here… And uh, I don’t have anywhere to—. That’s not your problem—.” 

“It is my problem… I’m always gonna be your dad. I didn’t quit because you grew up,” I reassured him, “I’ll see you in a minute.” Andrew hung up and texted me. 

I drove straight there, stopping to call Terry. “Hey, Terry, I’ll be a little late. Something came up,” I explained, “Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, Avie’s great. She fell asleep on my lap, so I’m stuck watching TV… How’d your thing go?” Terry asked.

“I got everything I wanted,” I replied, “And Terry, thanks so much for helping me out. I owe you extra for watching her longer than planned.”

“No problem,” Terry replied. We exchanged goodbyes, and I entered the building and let security check me. 

I put my phone, wallet, keys, and belt in the basket before signing in at the front desk. “Is Andrew Todd here?” I questioned. The man at the desk hesitated. 

“Can I see ID?” he asked. I gave him my ID and let him scan it. “He put your name on his medical release form.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” I asked. He pressed a button on the computer and I heard a gate click. 

“He had a psychotic episode in the Gotham City Mall,” the man answered. Vague. Andrew had no history of mental illness. He had his troubles, but he never struggled with anything like that.

Andrew came out, and my breath caught. I hadn’t seen him in five years. But, I would’ve known my son anywhere. I reached for him, hesitating before asking to hug him. Andrew wouldn’t look me in the eye, but I couldn’t stop smiling. He opened his arms, and I hugged him. “Where’ve you been?” I asked. I shook my head before he could answer and took his bag. “Are you hungry, Drewby?” 

Andrew nodded. “Can I come home for a little while?” Andrew asked. I smoothed his hair down.

“Of course. Of course, you can come home,” I answered. I went into autopilot with him. I let him in the car, and he buckled in while I dropped his bag in the back seat. “Can we talk about what happened? Or do you wanna eat first?” 

“I tried to drown myself in the fountain… I think I got pretty close,” Andrew answered. He seemed distant, but I didn’t push him for a reaction. “Do you remember when Mom died?” 

It would’ve been a random question had any of my other kids asked, but Andrew was with her when she died. He was home sick from school, and she took a nap with him and never woke up. Andrew called me in tears, and it was devastating. I remembered him begging them not to zip her up in a body bag. He insisted she wouldn’t be able to breathe. “I remember,” I whispered. 

“I never told you what her last words were. I thought it would hurt you,” Andrew mumbled. He stroked his hand with his ring and middle fingers. It was something his mother used to do when Avery dissociated. 

“Will you tell me now?” I asked. It’d been eighteen years since. If he wanted to hurt me, he would’ve done it five years ago during the incident. Andrew nodded.

“I was scared because I thought you and Mom were getting a divorce, so I asked her… And before she went to sleep, she said, she couldn’t live without you and that I didn’t need to worry because she loved us… Her exact words: Daddy drives me crazy, but I can’t live without him. You don’t have to worry about our family breaking up. We love you, Drewby ,” Andrew replied. I choked back tears. “I like that moment. It was the last time I felt like everything would be okay.”

I couldn’t speak. What would I tell him ? How could I explain to him what changed in five years? How could I tell him about his niece and Avery and—? How could I explain Terry? Even if he wasn’t the kid I mentored five years ago, I couldn’t explain him to Andrew. It felt like a betrayal… But how could I lie?

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children [DP x Batman Crossover] Ch. 1

Disclaimer: It's been a while since I watched DP and the only Batman/DC stuff I've interacted with are B:TAS, the JL cartoons, and what I got from fandom osmosis so don't expect any sort of canon compliance.

In Which: the author takes advantage of the passage of time in Nanda Parbat being wonky and Danny doesn't give up, per se, but is sort of resigned to being stuck with the League of Assassins until further notice.

AO3 | Prologue | [ 1 ] | 2 |

CW for descriptions of non-consensual drug use (if there's anything you guys would like me to tag, please tell me)

-----

WHEN SOMETHING WENT WRONG WITH DANNY’S LIFE, it was usually because of one or two things: Ghosts or Vlad. And considering their truce and how even Vlad wouldn’t go this far (at least, Danny hoped), Danny was kidnapped because of ghosts. Or his association with ghosts.

Though how an organization of ninja-assassins got wind of his ‘unique’ circumstance was beyond him. The shackles they slapped on his wrists were more a formality than anything after the second time he tried to escape them with intangibility. The only reason they managed to get him contained the entire trip from Amity Park to wherever the fuck Nanda Parbat lay was because of the cocktail of drugs they pumped into his system spiked with blood blossoms.

Danny had to give it to them. The League of Assassins might not have any anti-ecto weaponry, but they did their homework.

He barely remembered the trip. He catches flashes—blurry figures and words he couldn’t comprehend. A warm hand holding his, a thumb rubbing smooth circles on the back of his palm and calloused fingers running through his hair.

When he awoke, it was in a room bigger than his bedroom. His ankle was shackled to a bedpost, and the only door leading out was locked. There was a separate room for the bathroom off to the side and a shelf stacked with books decorating the otherwise bare walls, but other than that there wasn’t much else. Not even windows.

Intangibility, he learned, wasn’t an option. The blood blossoms in his bloodstream were still in circulation, rendering his transformation useless. If his nose was right, his captors were pumping blood blossoms from the vents. The sickly sweet of the flower was faint in the cool air, but the slight red haze that persisted in the room was unmistakable.

He tried, regardless. The rings barely made it half-way before his knees buckled and he started retching all over the floor. At least his stomach was empty.

-------

Danny doesn’t know how long he’s been in Nanda Parbat. Time moved differently here. Faster, he thought. He doesn’t really understand how or why, though sometimes he wondered what Clockwork thought of all of this.

(There are times, in the darkness and solitude of his cell, when Danny would call for Clockwork to rescue him. Quietly, so quietly, it was barely even a whisper. But Clockwork would hear it—Danny was sure he would. Clockwork helped him out before, so this time shouldn’t be all that different. But at the end of the night, nothingness would answer him. And Danny had to learn over and over again that even the Ghost of Time had his own rules to follow.)

It had taken a few days and Talia nearly biting the head off of the League’s physician for them to realize that blood blossoms would be an awful way to contain him. Effective at immobilizing him, yes, but the flowers left him about as helpless as Superman in a kryptonite cave.

“It all works out in the end,” Talia would say. “The blossoms were never going to become a long-term solution; you might end up developing an immunity to them given enough exposure.”

Though knowing now what Talia’s ‘long-term plan’ was for making sure Danny didn’t slip through the walls of the headquarters and fly across the ocean, Danny would rather take his chances with the blood blossoms.

Danny might not have been as smart as Vlad, but he was tricky and creative when he needed to be. He knows he’s powerful. And sure, he might forget some of his own abilities every now and then, but that doesn’t mean he can’t use them. In the time he’s been stuck in the Leage’s lair (and coherent), Danny had thought of a dozen escape plans, each one with a high chance of success. If he made an attempt, he could guarantee the League wouldn’t notice until he was a quarter-way across the globe.

Escaping wasn’t the problem. That would be the easy part.

His core burned at the thought of it. And it hurt—as if his entire being was dunked in a vat of dry ice and left to freeze. He hated how he was here and everything that he was protecting was far. Away.

Danny wanted to go home. Wanted to read comic books in his bed, play Doom with Tucker and Sam, sleep in class and make fun of the Box Ghost. He wants to eat his mom’s food, even if there’s a fifty-fifty chance that it would come alive and try to eat him instead. He wants to listen to Jazz try to psychoanalyze his problems. Wants to go fishing with his dad and eat his famous chocolate fudge. Wants to fly above the skies of Amity Park and touch what little he can of the universe before he’s called down again.

Amity Park is his haunt. His Home. The soft hum of the Ghost Portal in the basement a lullaby he’s listened to for so long that sleeping without it was next to impossible. Every fiber of his being craved to go back because how is he supposed to protect Amity if he isn’t there?

But to go back meant sacrificing everyone.

Danny doesn’t risk it.

(The—the last time was an accident. If Danny isn’t—if he isn’t careful, this time it may be an assassination. He refused to have his family’s death on his hands again.)

He has faith in Sam, Tucker, and Jazz to hold down the fort until he could find a way to escape. They’re smart. Smarter than him. They’ll work something out and—in a worst-case scenario, they’ll find a way to shut down the Ghost Portal to stop the ghosts from coming through.

Logic meant nothing to his ghost core, though. The next best thing to do was to drown out his worries with the League’s rigorous education.

Hand-to-hand and weapons combat. Geography. History. Dozens of foreign languages. Poisons and herbology and basic first-aid. His days are packed with new things to learn and to repeat until it’s drilled into his skull so deep he could recite the information in his sleep. (Hyosycamus niger, aka Henbane. Every part is highly toxic and can cause dizziness, stupor, insanity, and eventual death. It’s medicinal uses range from--)

The League demanded perfection. The Demon’s Head demanded even more than that.

Talia oversaw his education. Sometimes, there would be another, older, man by her side, observing his regimen with cold calculation. Whenever that man arrived, Danny’s instructors were always stricter.

His teachers made little effort to interact with him outside of their set schedule, and during his lessons they only ever answer pertinent questions. He supposed there would be other students of the League in Nanda Parbat, but he’s seen neither hide nor hair of them. His rooms (a bedroom + bathroom combo that led out into a large indoor space for training) are separate from everything else.

Danny slept alone, ate alone, and trained alone. And for a boy who has had his two best friends stuck to his side like glue for as long as he could remember, it’s a terribly lonely experience.

His shadow guards don’t count. They might as well be another piece of furniture. Another stone in the wall.

-------

Talia was the only one that broke his new mundane routine, as much as she was the cause of it. She was his only source of companionship in this hell hole; the only one who would really speak to him. And yeah, he knew why that was. Jazz had rambled on enough about Stockholm syndrome to know that this ‘arrangement’ was Talia’s attempts at forging a bond between them. But godit’s just so hard to be stuck inside your own mind all day when. It made him think too much. Worry. (Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatif).

And then—

And then.

Danny had asked Talia a multitude of questions, but only two did she ever answer. Both asked when he was still trying to flush the drug cocktail and the blood blossoms from his system.

The first was when he asked, “Why am I here?” She answered that it was because Ra’s al Ghul, her father, wanted him. He had knowledge the Demon’s Head wanted; powers that Ra’s could only ever dream of. The man was curious—though Talia assured him over and over again that Danny wouldn’t be vivisected and studied for science.

The second answer came right after when Danny asked her “How could you be so sure?”

Talia smiled. Lacquered fingers coming up to brush away the dark strands that fell over his face. Her hands traced the curve of his jaw, cupping his cheeks to raise his eyes to hers. “Because you are my son,” she said, voice honey sweet.

He jerked from her hold.

Burned by it.

“You’re lying,” he spat. “I’m already someone else’s son. Try again.”

Talia let her hands drop to her sides. “You are my son.” She took a step closer towards him. Steady. Firm. “That is why you are here.”

“I don’t believe you.”

A pitying smile. “Be that as it may, you cannot change the truth.” She approached him, slowly backing him against the wall before she reached out to tilt his chin upwards. Some traitorous part of Danny’s mind catalogued her features. Made connections that shouldn’t exist. “I have carried you in my womb, Daniel. You were a part of me for so very long and I loved you more with each passing day. You are of my body and of my blood—not matter how much you may deny it.”

“No.” He pushed her hands away and raked his hands over his hair. “You’re lying.” She must be. They don’t look alike. Not at all. Everyone always said he was his dad’s—Jack Fenton’s—exact copy. Black haired and blue eyed and sharp-jawed. Awkward but well-meaning and with a heart of gold, his mother said. It was once of the facts of life; Danny took after his dad, and Jazz took after their mom. Simple as that.

(There is a memory resurfacing from his early childhood that Danny is desperately trying to repress again. Memories of kids teasing him on the playground, innocently cruel in the way only children can be as they tried to convince him he was adopted. That his skin looked nothing like his parents’. Dusky where his parents and sister were fair. He went home crying to his parents that same day, and they soothed away his worries with hushed words and a well-timed distraction.)

He asked no more questions after that. Talia was lying to him for some reason, and no answer she could give would be trustworthy anyways. What little of him he could see in her was only a figment of his own imagination. His mind playing cruel tricks.

Then his hopes were dashed aside when Talia showed him a picture of his father a day later.

The man in the photo looked like him. Black haired and eyes the same shade of too-bright blue. There were differences, of course. The man in the photograph was fairer, unlike Danny. He was taller and broader where Danny was lean and lanky. But despite this and all the other minute differences, this man who was supposed to be Danny’s biological father looked like him.

The same slant of the brow. The same shape of the eyes. The way the man held himself with this sense of gravitas and power that Danny couldn’t yet do in his awkward teenage years but had seen before. In a monster another man.

Danny’s future self was terrifying in its inhumanity, but it didn’t take that much of an imagination to know that he looked almost exactly like the man in the picture.

[achillestiel]

the parent trap only works if you’re identical | part three 

Tag List: @littlerachelbee @imthedoctorlove @deancas-handprint @castiel-loves-dean @wanderermatthews @thelahatiel @priscillahc @mridzyp @multi-fandom-dark-lord @thefantasyfiend @harmonyhelms @imlivingliferightnow

Dean knew that one day his life would catch up with him and he’d have to explain everything to Claire but this definitely wasn’t how he had planned on doing it. He definitely didn’t expect to be driving to Washington DC with his son. His son. The truth was that he’d thought about Jack a lot over the years. Time and time again he had wanted to call Cas and get to know his child but they’d made an arrangement. Dean got Claire and Cas got Jack. No need to see each and drive each other crazy. Still, Dean had always wondered about his son and now here he was, sat in the impala and complaining loudly over Dean’s music. 

“Ok, ok. Enough about the music.” Dean said when Jack’s complaining got to be too much. “We got a long drive ahead of us and I’m sure you have questions. Not gonna lie, I’ve got questions too.” Dean said. Jack let out a long sigh, clearly gearing himself up and Dean braced himself. 

“Ok...um...how did you and dad meet?”

“Wow, straight out the gate.” Dean said. “Um, well your dad was studying Political Science and Economics at KU. With you guys being in DC now I’m guessing he got that government job he always wanted. Anyway, I was working at the garage owned by a family friend, guy called Bobby. He’s like an honorary grandpa to Claire. So, Cas’ car broke down so he brought it to the garage. I thought he was cute so gave him a really good discount, in return he asked me out for a drink. The rest is history.”

“Not really…” Jack said. “I’m still confused. What happened after that?”

“Well...we dated while your dad was finishing up at college. After that we went on a cruise ‘cause I’m not great with flying and your dad really wanted to go to London. Turns out I’m not good on boats either. I threw up a lot.”

“Is that when you and dad got tipsy and got married by the captain?”

“How did you know that?”

“Uncle Gabriel told me and made me promise to not tell dad. Apparently it’s why dad refuses to watch Titanic.” Jack said. “Dad? Dean...no, dad...can I ask you something?”

“Of course kid. This is Winchester Question Time after all.” Dean said. 

“Are you mad me at and Claire for doing this? Why do we have to switch back so soon? Don’t...don’t you want to spend time with me?” Jack asked and damn if Dean’s heart didn’t break a tiny bit, ok a lot, then.

“Well damn Jack, of course I want to spend time with you buddy. Just ‘cause you’re not around doesn’t mean I don’t love you to the moon and back.It’s just, as much as I want you around, you belong to Cas. Kind of like how Claire belongs to me.” Dean explained. 

“We’re kids, not pieces of furniture.”

“Yeah I know and I know this sucks but it’s the agreement that me and your dad came to. Neither of us wanted you and Claire to constantly be going back and forth between houses and you were both so little at the time.”

“Personally I think Claire and my idea to switch places was less idiotic.” Jack said. The kid may have had a point. 

Before Dean could even reply his phone burst into life with a video call from Sam and Eileen. Dean stuck his phone into the holder and accepted the call. At once Sam and Eileen’s excited faces filled the screen. 

“Hey, let me just pull over so I can talk.” Dean said. 

“That’s fine, we just wanted to see Claire and say hi.” Sam said with a huge grin. “We can’t wait to see her!” 

“Yeah...about that...we might have hit a slight speed bump.” Dean said as he pulled the impala over and glanced down at the screen. “Claire’s not here.” he said, signing for Eileen at the same time. 

What? Where’s Claire? I thought you were picking her up today. Eileen signed.  

“Oh I was but she had other ideas.” Dean said. 

Where is she?

“Well she’s with her dad, just not the right one.” Dean said. Both Sam and Eileen looked confused for a moment before it seemed to dawn on them.

“She’s with Cas? How the hell did that happen?”

“Ask this genius right here.” Dean said, picking up the phone and spinning it around so Jack could wave at the screen. “Sammy, we got a Parent Trap situation going on.”

“Holy crap! Is that Jack? Wow kid, you grew up! Wait, don’t the twins have to be identical for the parent trap to work?”

“Don’t even get me started on that. I’ve already called both of them morons.”

“Hi Uncle Sam and Aunt Eileen!” Jack both said and signed. 

“You know how to sign?” Dean asked him. 

“Yeah, dad taught me.” Jack said before looking back at the screen. “Uncle Gabriel has told me so much about you two. It’s so cool to finally meet you!”

“You too kid, I haven’t seen you since you were a baby.” Sam said. “So you’re with Dean and Claire is with Cas...that’s interesting.”

“It’s not ‘interesting’ Sammy, it’s a pain in the ass.” Dean said bringing the phone back to him. “I’m now driving Jack back to DC so I can grab my moron daughter and ground her until she’s college age.”

And see Cas for the first time in over a decade. Are you nervous? Eileen asked.

Why would I be nervous? Dean shot back.

Obvious reasons. You and Cas came up with this cockamamie idea so you wouldn’t have to see each other. You only did that because you’d definitely launch yourself at Cas at the first opportunity.   

Don’t start that again Eileen, you know why me and Cas didn’t work out and I really wish you and Sam wouldn’t gossip about it so much. 

“We don’t gossip!” Sam said. 

“You do and you know you do!” Dean shot back, completely unaware that Jack was texting someone at the same moment. A huge, shit eating grin plastered on his face. 

-

In times of crisis, Gabriel Novak wasn’t normal who most people would have turned to but Cas was short on options. After driving Claire back to his house, Cas called Gabriel in a mild panic. Sadly, by the time Gabriel actually turned up, that mild panic had increased by a fair amount. 

“And we’re hiding in your bedroom while the daughter you haven’t seen in over twelve years makes a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because…” Gabriel asked, surveying the sight in front of him. Namely Cas, clearly having a ‘moment’. 

"Because Dean Winchester is currently driving to my house. I’m sorry Gabriel but I can’t handle this right now.” Cas said. “I haven’t seen him in over a decade and now he’s driving halfway across the country to swap our kids back!”

“Cas, I think you need to calm down or have a drink. Maybe a few drinks." Gabriel said as Cas shot him the crazy eyes. “Just a suggestion.”

“I don’t think I’m emotionally intelligent enough for this! The man drives me crazy! If he didn’t drive me that insane then I’d still be married to him!” Cas cried as he started to pull shirts out his drawer. “Do I look emotionally stable enough for this Gabriel? We decided upon this arrangement so we wouldn’t have to see each other again because if we did I’d do something stupid like throw myself at him because the man makes me crazy. Seriously Gabriel, have you ever seen me like this?”

“Well…”

“Actually don’t answer that.” Cas said, giving up on finding a shirt and opening up his walk-in closest. Maybe he could just hide in there and leave the whole thing to Gabriel. Then again Gabriel lacked the emotional maturity to handle something like this. Maybe he could leave the whole thing up to Claire. 

“No. Castiel, get out the damn closet and see your ex-husband like a big boy.” Gabriel said because of course Gabriel knew exactly what Cas was thinking. It was at that point that Claire strolled into the room holding a sandwich, stopping when she saw Cas stood in his closet holding out two nearly identical sweaters. 

"Um, Cas...Dad? Are you spiralling right now?" 

"No, why? Does it look like I'm spiralling?" Cas asked, walking out towards Claire. Gabriel opened his mouth to speak. “Don’t answer that Gabriel.”

"Well, yeah. You look like Dad does whenever he gets drunk and hears Since I've Been Loving You then cries while watching cowboy movies thinking that I don't know what he's doing." Claire said bluntly.

"Huh, that was our wedding song." Cas said before walking back into his closet. "Wait." He said, sticking his head out the door. "Does your father do that a lot? Not that I care, it’s just...I’m-"

“Spiralling? Interested in what Dean Winchester has been up to for the past twelve years? Clearly not emotionally intelligent enough to handle all this right now so you’re hiding in a closet like a child?” Gabriel intoned.  

"Yep, exactly like dad when he watches cowboy movies." Claire said to Gabriel. “He does it like once a month. It's cool though. I just bike over to Uncle Sam and Aunt Eileen's house. They have cable and Aunt Eileen is teaching me how to sign curse words." Claire said with a shrug. "Cas...dad...why are you spiralling?"

“He’s emotional unintelligent.” Gabriel said while Cas just stood there, still holding the damn sweaters. 

“I don’t know what that means.” Claire replied. “Anyway, I just spoke to my dad and they’re stopping for coffee. He said they’ll be here in four hours or so.”

“There you go, you’ve got four whole hours to get a grip.” Gabriel said. “Hey Claire, you gonna eat the rest of that sandwich?”

“Knock yourself out.” Claire said handing over the rest of her sandwich. 

“I like this kid, she’s cool. Huh, you make your PB&J sandwiches just like Jack." Gabriel said looking down at the sandwich. "Jelly between two layers of peanut butter..." He added looking over at Cas.

"Yeah, that's how dad always made them." Claire said.

“How bizarre.” Gabriel said wiggling his eyebrows. 

“How bizarre.” Claire intoned. Gabriel laughed out loud and high fived her with his sandwich free hand. 

“Claire...did your dad say anything else? Does he seem annoyed?” Cas asked before Gabriel could make a PB&J comment.

“Yeah but that’s just because Jack did the ‘puppy eyes’ thing and changed the station to the Billboard Hot 100. I don’t know how Jack does it but he’s gotta teach me that, I’ll get away with so much in the future.”

“Right...did he mention anything else?”

“He wants to know if Dean said anything about him.” Gabriel said, straight to the point like always. 

“Oh! No, not really...he stammered out a load of nonsense like always then begged Jack to change the station because Justin Bieber started playing and Bieber creeps dad for reasons I don’t understand.” Claire said with a shrug. “Though Jack said that when he was talking to Uncle Sam and Aunt Eileen he mentioned that they gossip about the two of you all the time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, dad was signing it to Aunt Eileen. I didn’t know Jack knew sign language.”

“I taught him when he was little.” Cas said. Cas had learnt to sign when he’d met Eileen, it just felt natural to teach Jack. 

“I mean, he’s right. Uncle Sam talks about you all the time when I’m there. Not so much in front of dad ‘cause he gets real weird about it.” Claire said. “Jack said something about dad not wanting to see you so he wouldn’t do something stupid. He’s probably right, dad does stupid things all the time.”

“Well well well, who does that sound like.” Gabriel said, shooting a very pointed look at Cas. “Claire, kiddo, why don’t we leave your dad to freak out in the closet and make him some calming tea? Or maybe grab a bottle of tequila?”

“Sure.” Claire said before turning back to Cas. “Dad, it’s gonna be fine. I think my dad is excited to see you. If that helps.” she said with a small smile. Cas smiled back because it didn’t matter how much Dean drove him crazy or how badly his was currently handling the situation. What mattered was that Cas was excited to see Dean too. 

Now all he needed to do was pick out a sweater. 

[ms-trickster]

✨ Missy’s Fanfiction Extravaganza✨

A shout out to some fics that I've read, fallen in love with, and believe deserve more recognition. Stories not restricted by fandom or website, though I will stick to either AO3 or Fanfiction.net. Please pay attention to the tags for triggers/squicks!

Merlin

Arthur Enchanted by platonic_boner (1/1)

Arthur is cursed to obey Merlin’s orders.

Obviously this has very little impact on their lives, since no servant would ever dare give orders to a prince.

Wanted: One Merlin. Big ears. Memory of King Arthur optional. by watchriverdale (1/1)

Merlin had been having quite a good day, actually, until some bloke calling himself King Arthur turned up and tried to get him to run away with him.

Winning A Battle by OhFantasyWorld (1/1)

“Arthur,” he said softly. ”There’s something wrong, isn’t there?”

Arthur nodded slowly, still not looking at him.

Merlin stepped closer to him.

“Will you tell me? I’ve been worried,” he said earnestly. “I promise not to tell anyone.”

Arthur bit his lip. Then he closed his eyes. “No.”

Into the Spider-Verse

refract, reform by puppyblue (1/1)

I should go up there and help him, Miles thinks, and stands up straight to stare at where Green Goblin and the Prowler have Spider-Man pinned down.

And in the five seconds between the thought and the realization that hey, maybe not, all Miles can think is, but I have no way to get up there.

So he throws his phone instead.

Down the Waterspout by Mockingone (9/9)

Peter Parker hightails out of the particle collider with Miles Morales tucked under his arm.

Or: Spider-Man lives, and the consequences thereafter.

Sherlock

It's Not The Violin by copperbadge (1/1)

Somewhere between Alejandro and the fistfight, John Watson became someone Sherlock Holmes would kill for.

The Peter Paradox by Potrix (1/)

“Sherlock has never been good at sharing, so it’s really no wonder that things go a little awry when Mycroft decides to bring a friend home for Christmas.”

In which Sherlock is jealous and not amused, Mycroft has a mysterious ‘friend’, the Holmes parents are not doing a very good job and the author decided it was time for some Christmas fluff in July.

Miraculous Ladybug

Sweet Dreams by SailorChibi (1/1)

Marinette and Adrien kill Gabriel Agreste.

DC

big brother moment by lawltam (1/1)

“Why do you have a Nightwing hoodie and not a Red Hood one?”

“Well, maybe if you stopped killing people, they’d make more merchandise of you.”

-

Tim and Jason are the self-proclaimed "second-best duo of the family."

if it's all in my head tell me now, tell me i got it wrong somehow by gaysupersoldiers (1/1)

“No one who does that is good.” Fatima insists. “We have to tell Mistress. She won’t stand for it.”

And wasn’t that curious? What had Ra’s done that would inspire such wrath? Fatima had been more than ecstatic to work with ninjas, a youthful excitement prevalent as she was able to watch them train. She had been privy to the carnage Ra’s had left behind- after all she was the one to scrub the throne room just last week. And what could have Ra’s done that she thinks Talia would go directly against him?

Farah gave her companion another sharp glance, “We must do no such thing.”

Fatima sighed, crossing her arms and glaring at her sister, “There is a child in Master Ra’s bedchambers.”

knowing by mipmap (1/1)

In which Damian knows something the rest of his family does not.

can't lose another life by dottie_wan_kenobi (1/1)

Part 25 of Batfam Fics

He tries to move his arm, and pure blazing pain shoots through his whole body. Biting down on a scream, he tells himself he has to get up. Has to move. Jason is waiting for him at the hotel. If he takes too long, then Jason will come searching, and this mess is the last thing he wants his boy to see. Nevermind the fact that Bruce doesn’t have a good grasp on anything about it, he knows it’s bad.

Fire, burning flesh, crying. It’s bad. Not something a child should see.

---

Reverse Ethiopia AU

[agatharionicky]

Honey, There Is No Right Way

Chapter: one/four

Summary: Sara’s blind and now that the hellhound has been taken care of and the ship is up and running Sara must find out how to adjust and adapt to her new disability. Along the way, she finds out that there is no right way to adjust. Starts right after Ship Broken.

Fandom: DC’s Legends of Tomorrow.

Relationship: Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe.

Characters: Sara Lance, Ava Sharpe, Gideon.

Chapter Rating: Explicit

Additional Tags: Blind!Sara, Fluff and Angst, Co-showering in the communal bathroom ;) Lemons.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

……………………………………………………………………

“I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do,” Gideon said.

“No, there has to be something that can be done,” Ava said as Sara heard her pick up a tablet.

“I am truly sorry,” Gideon said from above. “I can run a full eye to brain diagnosis, but I fear the same result.”

“Do it,” Ava said and Sara can hear her getting more frantic by the second. Sara reached out her hand to her and Ava picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

“Captain Lance?” Gideon asked, waiting for Sara's permission.

“It wouldn't hurt to try,” Sara said, with a shrug.

Ava carefully adjusted the eye goggles over Sara's face. Although Sara couldn't see anything, she could feel as Gideon ran the scan over her eyes. 

Sara closed her eyes after Gideon finished. “I’m sorry Captain Lance.”

Sara waited for a second after Ava took off the goggles, before opening her eyes again, but she still couldn't see. Her world is entirely black. She couldn't even tell if the lights are on or off, it's just an endless black void. Sara put her hands over her face, her eyebrows, her eyelids, even her eyelashes all felt the same. There were no rough scars or raised angry cataracts, just soft eyelashes that bushed her fingertips.

“We'll just have to keep trying. We can figure this out. I'll have Constantine and Charlie and Nate do some research. There has to be something, maybe there's a spell or a potion, or…” Ava trailed off and Sara trailed her hand up Ava’s arm and neck to Ava’s face, and Ava held her hand to her cheek. “The loom. We’ll use the loom and get your sight back.”

Sara just nodded and rubbed Ava’s cheek with her thumb. She had heard of how blind people would run their fingers over the facial structures of people they loved, but Sara didn't want to feel Ava's face, she wanted to see it. 

Sara sat up and Ava put her hands on her shoulders, rubbing up and down her arms. Sara took a deep breath, in and out as she tried to calm her anxiety and settle into her unseeing world. She settled into her skin for a moment before she realized how itchy she was and scratching at her arms.

“Can I take a shower? I've kind of been in these clothes for a week.”

“Of course honey,” Ava said, Sara can't see Ava's expression, but she can imagine how Ava tilted her head and drew her eyebrows together like she always did. 

Ava walked her down the hall and stopped in front of the bathroom door. Gideon opened it for them and Sara moved towards it, feeling the wall for the doorway. 

“Why don't you hop in the shower and I'll go grab your towel and bring you a change of clothing okay?” Ava said letting go of her.

“Ava wait,” Sara reached out again and managed to grab ahold of the back of Ava’s shirt.

“What's wrong?”

Sara bit her lip and stopped herself from admitting that she needed Ava there with her. The shower was always a mess of everyone's different products and nothing was ever in the same place. Mick had some weird body wash that always smelled like oil and wood that ended up where her shampoo should have been. She didn't know where anything was and she couldn't even remember where she put her loofah, whether it was on the faucet or one of the hooks along the wall. 

Plus, the only way she can tell it apart from the one that Nate used was because of the color and she can't exactly see that right now. She needed Ava to pick it out for her and It was stupid, she knew that, but she didn’t want to use Nate’s loofah. Sara hated that she had to have help right now, when all she wanted to do was try and figure it out for herself, but that option seemed equally hard.

“Can you come back and shower with me?” 

Sara can hear Ava take a step forward and she felt Ava put her hands on Sara’s shoulders before she felt Ava’s lips on her own. It was just a quick kiss, but it was just enough for Sara to relax, as she knew Ava would help her. 

“Of course, are you okay waiting for me to go grab our stuff, or do you want to come with me?”

Sara took a deep breath. She wrapped her arm around Ava's waist and leaned into her for a moment. Ava grounded her in a way that Sara loved. Every time Ava held her, she felt safe enough to take a breath and recharge. In Ava’s arms, she could take on the world, again.

“I'll be okay, you go grab our stuff and I'll meet you in the shower,” Sara said letting her smile rest playfully on her lips.

“Well I guess I'll have to hurry back then,” Ava says her voice going up an octave in excitement. 

Sara let her fingers dance up Ava’s sides and Ava let out a laugh. Sara wondered if she smiled too. Ava pulled away and Sara heard the door to the bathroom open and close, signaling that she was all alone. 

Sara took a deep breath and turned around. She knew that the toilet and shower were to her left so she put her hand on the wall. The waved metal was smooth under her fingers as it dipped and crested as she walked to the shower door. The toilet was to her right and the shower stall was to her left. She quickly used the toilet and stopped as she realized that the sink was in the middle of the wall across from her. It would be easier to just walk forward and she could do that, right? Sara e took a step towards the sink, then another, and another until she ran into it with her hip and her toes. She pulled back and rubbed the spot on her hip, as she cursed the ceramic sink. Who puts a ceramic sink in a metal ship? Rip Hunter that���s who.

Sara shook her head as she washed her hands and dried them off. She took off her rings and put them in a dish by the sink. As she placed them in the dish, she heard the telltale sign of one ring falling off of the sink and onto the floor. Sara paused and listened to it roll around before it stopped. Sara ran her fingers through her hair, she had no idea where it was. 

Maybe she could use her sight to see it. Sara squeezed her eyes shut and tried her hardest to envision it in her mind, but nothing came of it. No visions of the future, no answer to where her ring was. Sara doesn't give up, she couldn’t, she got down on her hands and knees and tried to feel around for the ring. Nevertheless, all she found were strands of hair from Zari and this weird gel that smelled like what Nate puts in his hair. After spending what felt like forever, running her hands over the dirty bathroom floor, she's about ready to scream as Ava walked in.

“Hey babe, did you lose something?” Ava asked and Sara can hear her light hearted tone and her footsteps as she walked over to hang up their towels. 

“Just my stupid ring fell off the sink,” Sara said sitting back on her legs. 

“Oh, here it is,” Ava said and Sara can hear her pick up the ring that clinked on the floor as Ava picked it up.

Sara reached up to where she thought Ava was and tried to grab the ring from her fingers but just ended up swiping her hand through the air. 

Sara swore and stood up, reaching out for Ava. Ava met her halfway and took Sara's hand, turning it over and putting the ring in her palm.

“Since we're about to shower do you want me to put it in your ring bowl?” Ava gently asked as she rubbed the back of Sara’s hand. 

“No I can do it myself,” Sara insisted and pulled her hand away to reach for the sink. she ran her fingers along the side of the sink until she reached the dish, but in her anger, she was more forceful than necessary and knocked it onto the floor. Sara heard all the rings scattered across the floor and the glass bowl shatter with them. 

“Hang on Sara, don't move you're standing around the broken fragments, just let me grab a broom and I'll clean it up.”

Ava ran out of the room and Sara just stood there. She felt so stupid. She broke something, she’s never done that. She couldn’t even find her ring and put it in the bowl without somebody else's help. Is this what her life would be like now? Would she need help doing the simplest of tasks? Would she ever get her independence back? Tears collected in Sara's eyes, but she was determined not to cry.

Sara heard the door to the bathroom open again and quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. She tried to take a deep breath that only came in staggered broken sobs. Sara hid her face from where Ava could see. 

Sara heard Ava take a deep breath and then her footsteps across the room and she wrapped her arms around Sara. Ava just held her and Sara was able to take another deep breath more easily in Ava’s arms. Sara felt ready to pull away and let go, but Ava pulled her back and gave her one extra squeeze before she let Sara go. 

“All right, I got the broom and vacuum, so I'm going to put your rings in the pocket of your jeans and I'll get this all cleaned up.”

Ava quickly got the mess cleaned up and Sara stripped and headed straight for the showers. She felt along the wall until she reached the door and pushed it open. She reached for the knob and turned the water to the setting she liked, feeling the water before hopping in and standing under the waterfall. Ava wordlessly got in behind her and wrapped her arms around Sara's waist before pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

Although Ava’s hug had helped, it still hadn't chased away the thoughts and Sara began to sob. Her chest heaved with her shaky breath and she struggled to take in enough air after every sob. Ava just held her tighter and whispered in her ear that she was there for her. They stayed like that, with Sara sobbing and Ava holding her as they stood under the water. Sara cried herself out and let the warm water wash away the salt from her face. 

“I know this is hard, Sara. I know you wanted to do it on your own like you used to. I'm going to try and help you make sure you are able to do that okay. I want you to know that if I help you it’s not because I think you're weak. It’s because I love you and I want to take care of you, but I’ll only help if you ask, okay.”

“Okay,” Sara breathed out. “Can you help me find the shampoo?”

“Yeah,” Ava said as Sara heard her reach out for the shampoo. 

Sara heard the snap of the cap as Ava squeezed out a dollop of shampoo oh her head. Before she put the bottle back, she put it in Sara's hand and then guided Sara's hand over to the ledge in the shower. 

“I am putting off shampoo on the very left on the top shelf next to your conditioner and next to that is your body wash, and your loofah is on the hook underneath it,” Ava said, leading her hand over each item. “If you want to use your razor let me know and I'll get it.”

Sara shook her head, she only shaved her underarms about once a week if that. She was planning on doing so today, but just didn't feel like figuring out how to do it and didn't want Ava to do it for her. Sara did let Ava wash her hair though, the act of care was something Ava had occasionally done for her when Sara was too tired to do it herself. 

Ava reached out and wiggled her fingers under Sara’s arm, tickling her and making Sara giggle. She turned around and tickled that one spot on Ava’s hip that always sent her into a fit of giggles, but Ava captured both of her hands and helped them above her head.

“Hey that's not fair, you started it,” Sara said, with a pout on her lip that she knew was hard to resist. 

“And now I'm ending it,” Ava said and Sara felt her lips against her own. It was a quick kiss and Ava pulled back again before grabbing Sara's shoulders. “Now turn around I haven't even conditioned your hair yet.”

Sara complied and turned around. She reached up and felt along the bottles, before pulling out the conditioner and handing it to Ava.

Ava leaned in and Sara could feel her lips smile against her shoulder. “See, you're already adapting. You're going to be just fine Sara, and it’s only temporary.”

Temporary, Sara thought she held onto the idea that one day she'll see Ava face again. Sara knew that Ava was right, but a twinge of sadness ran through her heart at the thought of never seeing Ava smile again. Sure she could feel it through her fingers or if Ava pressed her lips against her like she had just done, but it wasn’t the same. Sara took a deep breath and tried to focus instead on Ava's nimble fingers as they massage the conditioner into her scalp. 

Ava took the showerhead from off the well and ran it down Sara's hair, gently washing away the conditioner before collecting Sara's hair and pulling it over her shoulders. Once she was done with Sara’s hair, Ava grabbed something and Sara felt the loofah in gentle show circles over her shoulders. Ava gently scrubbed every inch of Sara's body, going down her shoulders to her back, over her butt, to her thighs, and eventually her feet. Sara turned around and Ava came up the other side, over her mound, her belly, her breasts, and her collarbone. Ava then gently took the showerhead and put it back before Sara stepped under the stream again. Sara couldn’t hear Ava move around, but she wasn't sure what Ava was doing, she only assumed that she was washing herself.

It was only a few moments before Ava stepped behind her and wrapped her arms around Sara's waist, resting her head on Sara's shoulder. It feels so good to be held. It was so lonely to be blind. Sara could hear those around her, but she couldn't see them and it was hard to know who was there unless they talked or touched her. Sara's love language had always been touch, and she held Ava's arms around her waist, wishing she could hold her there forever under the warm water of the shower. 

Sara felt Ava’s lips against her shoulder and Sara moans. She moaned and leaned against Ava, tilting her neck to give her more access. It’s a silent signal for Ava to continue and Ava kissed her neck more intently. She moved to suck a hickey into Sara's shoulder and Sara responded more intently, moving Ava’s hands that were resting on her belly down to her mound of blond curls. Ava smiled but she only touched her outer labia, never dipping further to actually touch her as she continued to kiss Sara's shoulder.

Ava pulled away, as Sara whined in protest before she could feel Ava move down. Ava's lips moved over her collarbone before Ava put her hands on Sara's hips and turned her around. The shower ran warm against Sara's back as Ava leaned in to kiss her labia. Sara stepped back, putting both of her hands against the wall, and leaned against it as Ava followed her. 

Ava finally parsed Sara’s labia to lick her clit. Sara threw her head back, the shower was hot and the steam filled her lungs as she moaned Ava’s name. Ava pulled her closer, holding her hips and pulling Sara’s leg over her shoulder. She lapped at Sara's clit with her tongue alternating between swirls and licks all driving Sara crazy. She got worked up so fast, her muscles tense as she stood on her toes, but Ava seemed to hold her just before her pleasure could reach the cliff.

Sara had been eaten out by a lot of women, but with Ava, it’s not just different, it's Ava. Sara didn't like to compare her flames or girlfriends; each one was good and unique in their own way. Like people who were authoritative but secretly thought for her Ava wasn't dark and brooding, Ava was soft and a dork. Sara liked that Ava didn't force Sara to be something she wasn't. She took Sara as she was and she tried. 

Right now, Sara knew that Ava wasn't prolonging things to tease her or control her pleasure, Ava was trying to get Sara to relax further before it ends. Sara melted against the wall, putting her back and her ass against the warm shower wall. Sara sank down from her toes and put more of her weight into Ava's shoulders and arm. That's when Ava becomes more persistent. 

Sara’s fingers tangle in her hair as Ava leaned in to suck on Sara's clit for a moment before swirling her tongue around the swollen bud. Sara moaned, the sound was louder than the fan and the water hitting the floor. Ava’s hands grip her hips and Sara finally goes over the edge, coming on Ava’s tongue. Sara called out her name as Ava licked her through it. 

As the pleasure ended Sara caught her breath and she felt Ava’s grip loosen underneath her. Ava cleaned her up, licking away every last bit of cum, before trailing her kisses back up Sara's body. 

Sara wrapped her arms around Ava’s neck and leaned into her, her legs still unsteady from her climax. She was content to stay there, under the warm water with Ava and Ava made no move to ask Sara to return the favor. When she was younger, Sara used to think that one-sided sex was selfish, but as she stayed in Ava’s arms, Sara knew she wasn’t being selfish. What Ava did was selfless by giving Sara what she needed, comforting her and relaxing her, and just being there for her as Ava always did. 

Ava sensed that Sara needed to stay there and they stood there under the shower until the water turned cold and one of the boys banged on the door to let him in to pee. Ava led her out and wrapped her up in a towel. Sara didn't mind being babied just this once as Ava quickly dried her off before slipping her robe onto her shoulders. Ava quickly tied it and patted her shoulder, before opening the door for Nate, who quickly thanked her as the door to the toilet slammed close. 

“Do you want to do your hair?” Ava asked as Sara heard her open the cabinet and the products clinked together.

Sara nodded and Ava handed her the products in the correct order, letting Sara do her hair herself as Ava hadn't quite gotten Sara’s curl routine down. Sara finished with Ava helping her plop her hair and she heard Nate exit the toilet. They finished the rest of their nightly routine and headed back to their room. 

Despite the fact that Sara just got out of a coma it had been quite an eventful day. The second that her knees bumped up against the bed, she leaned down to crawl under the covers. She hears Ava walk around the room pulling open drawers and cabinets and she tossed Sara her favorite pajamas. One of Ava's old long sleeved shirts that smelled wonderfully like her. Sara quickly changed and rolled over to face her nightstand. She reached out for her water bottle and her fingers brushed up against her book of crossword puzzles.

“Do you want to do one before bed?” Ava asked as Sara heard her get in as the bed creaked and dipped. 

“Not exactly,” Sara deadpanned as she put the book back and reached for her water bottle. As she took a sip of her water, Ava reached across her. When she pulled back Sara could hear the sound of the book being opened.

Ava snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her over to rest up against her chest. She put her arms around Sara and settled the book in her lap. “Come on, I’ll read the clues and you can tell me the answers.”

Sara smiled as Ava read off the first clue. It didn't take long for them to finish the puzzle as Ava contributed with her own answers although they weren’t always correct. 

“I told you that the answer was roam,” Sara said as she heard Ava write in the correct answer. 

“I still think that rove worked just as well,” Ava said as Sara heard her turn the page to the next crossword and put the pencil in between the pages before shutting the book.

“While the weird vocabulary does come in handy, let's stick to actual words next time.”

“Oh, so you let me play with you next time?” Ava asked, referencing how Sara had sworn she never let either continue to play with her again if she continued to give her wrong suggestions a few minutes earlier.

“The benefit outweighs the doubt.” 

“You're just happy I thought of the word gazebo,” Ava whispered her breaths hot in Sara's ear. 

“I would have thought of it eventually,” Sara insisted. 

Ava just leaned down to press a messy kiss to her cheek and tickled her side. Sara giggled as she kicked her legs and wiggled around in Ava's arms. Ava had a death grip on her and Sara eventually retaliated by reaching for Ava's weak spot. 

“Okay, okay uncle,” Ava shrieked as Sara tickled her. Sara immediately pulled her hands away and sat back on Ava's thigh.

Sara heard Ava sigh and felt her fingers drift up her arm to hold her cheek. Her thumb brushed her cheek as Sara closed her eyes. She sank down and buried herself in Ava’s chest. Ava leaned back and pulled the blanket up to her neck. Sara heard the click of the lamp, although she noticed no difference in the change of light as her world was still black.

Ava wrapped her arms around her back and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight my love.”

“Goodnight,” Sara whispered. 

That night Sara dreamed of how things looked. She walked through the halls of the Waverider in her mind and she saw the lights in the floors and the faces of each Legends as she walked past them. She saw Ava’s smile and her expression of love. Sara woke up still wrapped in Ava’s arms, but her world was just sound, feeling, taste, and smell. A few tears dripped down her cheeks and she laid her head back down on Ava’s chest. A part of her grieved for what she suspected she would never have again. Then she heard any of Ava’s heartbeat, strong and steady, she felt her warm arms around her, and Sara let herself find comfort in Ava's arms. It wouldn't fix anything, but she knew that with Ava by her side she could take on the world and Sara drifted off to sleep with this on her mind.

[afni-fics]

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 21: Tim Drake's Journal - 007

Chapter 21: Tim Drake's Journal - 007 by C_R_Scott Chapters: 21/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Skyrim/DCU crossover, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Not Beta Read, Alternate Universe - Skyrim Fusion, Modded Skyrim, Skyrim Spoilers, Tim Drake is Dragonborn | Dovahkiin, Batfamily-centric (DCU), Tim Drake-centric

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary:

Tim tries writing in his journal on the following day.

-------------------------

February 1, 20XX (morning, I think?)

  Dear future self: NEVER let a future wound get that bad ever again! Healing magic in this world is a strange and wonderful thing, but the lack of pain meds that would dull the sensation of that magic "removing and rebuilding" damaged bone, muscle and other assorted tissues...

God, what I wouldn't give for some oxycodone right now...Hell, even some Motrin or Tylenol would be welcomed.

So you know that whole plan Luci and I had about dropping off the Dragonstone and then setting out for a city called Solitude?

Yeah.

It kinda blew up in my face in a huge way.

How did that timeline go again?

- Drop off Dragonstone - Fucking dragon attacks a tower outside Whiterun - Jarl Balgruuf "asks" me to help fight the fucking dragon - I (a fucking dumbass) agree to his idiotic request - Lucien (too fucking good for me - don't deserve his friendship) offers an option out so that we put half a country and a few mountain ranges between us and Whiterun instead - I (an even bigger fucking dumbass) don't take him up on his offer (and now I know I'm going to probably regret it for the rest of my life) - I go to fight the dragon with the Jarl's guards because I'm an idiot with obvious lack-of-self-preservation issues - Lucien follows because damnit he's decided he's invested in me and fuck... I need to drive him away somehow. I'm going to get this poor guy killed...He doesn't deserve to get caught up in my shit. - So we fight a dragon - Oh, btw, dragons are sentient and intelligent and can talk and not even a fucking week in this world and I've already broken the ONE GODDAMNED RULE!

  ......I can't do this right now.

  -------------------------

Note:

I imagine as Tim got to the last line of this page he just threw his quill down in frustration and went back to bed.

#elder scrolls dc#fanfiction#tim drake#skyrim fanfiction#red robin#batfam#crossover#lucien flavius#wip#afewnovelideas

[searchingwardrobes]

The Convenient Groom: 1/?

Okay, I know what ya’ll are all thinking, and I agree: I don’t need another WIP! However, I woke up this morning with this idea, and I just had to write it. What’s more, I was looking for the perfect gift for @spartanguard​. You see, I missed her birthday last year. I got on tumblr, saw all these birthday wishes for her, and my heart sank. For some reason, I didn’t have her birthday on my list! I hated it because not only is she one of my favorite writers, but she is also an incredibly kind person who I have come to know as a wonderful fandom friend. So, @spartanguard​, I know it isn’t your birthday, but this fic is for you!

This fic has two inspirations: one, the Barenaked Ladies song “Alternative Girlfriend,” but mostly it’s a book I read called The Convenient Groom by Denise Hunter. I normally avoid book aus because it feels way too close to plagiarism, but a Hallmark movie was made from the book and it was a HUGE disappointment. They made it an engagement of convenience instead of a marriage and basically got rid of all the steamy moments. It’s been forever since I read it, anyway, and this first chapter that came to me this morning has vast differences already. Anyhoo, I hope you like it @spartanguard​ !

Summary: (Is one even necessary? Haha!) Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it also could mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that.

Rating: M

Words: 2,000 and some change in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells​ @kmomof4​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @distant-rose​ @welllpthisishappening​ @optomisticgirl​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @teamhook​ @bethacaciakay​ @xhookswenchx​ @winterbaby89​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @vvbooklady1256​ @thislassishooked​ @hollyethecurious​ @nikkiemms​ @jennjenn615​ @stahlop​ @snidgetsafan​ @scientificapricot​ @shireness-says​ @spartanguard​  @wellhellotragic​ @tiganasummertree​ @branlovestowrite​ @let-it-raines​ @carpedzem​ @profdanglaisstuff​

Killian Jones would never forget the first day he met Emma Swan. He’d been focused intently on the rocking chair that the Nolans had ordered for their new baby, and AC/DC’s “Back in Black” was booming throughout his workshop. He always worked to classic rock; it put him in the best creative zone.

Suddenly, the shop was plunged into silence, and he straightened in surprise. Standing there, with the cord to his portable speakers dangling from her hand, was a veritable goddess with anger sparking from her light green eyes. She was dressed in a simple pair of dark wash jeans topped with a cream blouse, yet her trim figure still drew his eyes. He’d never had a thing for blondes, but her golden hair had him re-thinking that. She had caught him so completely off guard, he stood there gaping like a mere boy.

“I’ve got a client upstairs trying to pour her damn heart out, but I can barely hear myself think with this noise rattling the walls.”

Ah, so this was the new tenant in the office upstairs. Killian smirked and sauntered into her personal space. “Well, love, I’ve been told I’m rather good at rattling the walls.”

He hardly knew what had possessed him to say such a thing. Before Milah, he was well known for his charms, but that had been years ago.

The blonde narrowed her eyes at his innuendo, though the blush upon her cheeks sent a far different message. “Not your love, buddy.” She tossed the cords at his chest, and one of them slapped him in the jaw. “Get yourself some damn earbuds.”

She strode towards the door, her high heeled boots tapping loudly on the concrete floor. “It’s Killian Jones, by the way,” he called out after her, “Ms . . . “

“Emma Swan,” she tossed over her shoulder, “and it’s doctor.”

He saw her often after that. It was difficult not to. Storybrooke was a small town, and they shared office space, after all. Their building on Main was also right across the street from Granny’s diner, the only place for a decent cup of coffee and a cheeseburger. Or grilled cheese and onion rings in Swan’s case. They’d crossed paths during their lunch break often enough for him to know her regular order. Yet to say Emma Swan had walls was an understatement, and just casual conversation was a challenge. One he had a rather enjoyable time tackling, honestly.

Yet she never came into his wood shop again. Until one day six months ago, to put in an order. She had stood there in his lobby where he met with clients and rough sketched their custom orders looking uncharacteristically nervous, her hands twisting at her waist. He had noticed the diamond sparkling on her left ring finger early on, and she fiddled with it now. He had never met the man who had given it to her, which he had always thought was odd. Especially considering how passionate Emma was about her career. Even stranger, Mary Margaret had never met him either, and Emma rented the loft from her and David. No one even knew the man’s name. Something was off about that, if you asked Killian. Not that anyone would.

“Can you make a wedding chuppa?” she blurted out.

“Aye,” he said as he leaned against the front counter, “I made one for Marco and Granny when they wed last fall.”

“Good,” Emma breathed out, but then her forehead creased with worry. “Marco’s Jewish, isn’t he? Is it okay to use a chuppa if you aren’t Jewish?”

“Hmmm,” Killian contemplated, rubbing at his chin, “is your fiance Jewish?”

“No,” Emma said with a shake of her head, “but we’re getting married outside, and I wanted some sort of focal point, you know?”

“Well, then,” he told her honestly, “I do think a chuppa has religious significance, so maybe an arbor or archway would be more appropriate? I’ve done those as well . . . “

He had come around the counter then and led her to the sitting area where he brainstormed with clients. He had shown her photos of an arbor he had made for his friends Eric and Ariel’s beach wedding, and several other options online. He found out many things that day: the location of the wedding (the gardens behind the old mansion on the outskirts of town), the flowers (middlemist roses), the color scheme (pale pink and wine red), and the date of the nuptials (late June). Yet he still didn’t know who this mysterious fiance was. Odd.

“He doesn’t like the attention from my career,” Emma had attempted to explain, twisting her engagement ring around her finger, “and I get it. There would be a lot of scrutiny on him and our relationship.”

Killian nodded. Everyone knew about Dr. Swan’s bestseller Seriously, Ladies? which supposedly guided any woman on how to avoid disastrous relationships. Women swore by it, and Emma also had a blog and a podcast. The media was salivating over her upcoming marriage, including the identity of Mr. Right himself.

“And I need your discretion on this,” Emma continued. “The media doesn’t know the wedding date yet, and I -”

Killian placed his hand on hers. “You can trust me, Emma. I won’t tell a soul about this order, much less when or where it will be delivered.”

He had worried that his word wouldn’t be enough, yet Emma had deflated with relief. “Thank you. I know this is a weird situation.”

“You deserve happiness, Swan.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “How do you know that? You know nothing about me.”

Killian had shrugged. “You’re somewhat of an open book, love.”

It was true. Despite her confidence, he could recognize another wounded heart when he saw one. Whoever this fiance was, he wasn’t doing a very good job of healing it, either, at least in Killian’s opinion. Otherwise her eyes wouldn’t still hold that haunted look.

The order meant, for both good and bad, that Killian saw Emma Swan more often. It was good in that he got to know her better, saw her smile, heard her laugh. It was bad for one horrible, terrible reason. For him, at least. Six months was long enough for him to fall in love with her - the woman he was making a wedding arbor for.

Killian sighed, his heart twisting painfully, as he covered the gorgeous arbor of carved mahogany with a moving blanket. Today was the day. For him, it felt more like the day of a funeral than a wedding. This man, whoever he was, better love her the way she deserved. It was all he could hope for now.

“Killian, what the hell do you think you’re doing!” He whirled from the arbor to see Emma marching angrily across his workshop. The scowl on her face was identical to the one almost a year ago when he first met her. “Why did you send the moving crew away empty handed? Please tell me you finished it.”

“Of course I finished it, Swan,” he retorted, unable to keep the bite out of his voice. Wasn’t she supposed to be giddy, flushed with eagerness, floating on air? Instead, she looked so stressed he feared she might give herself a heart attack.

“Then why didn’t you send it to the mansion? Are you being difficult on purpose?”

Killian tilted his head and grinned saucily at her. He couldn’t help it, teasing her was just too much fun. “Though getting you riled up is rather fun, I wouldn’t do that to you on your special day. I just didn’t trust anyone but myself to deliver it.”

“Oh,” she said lamely, biting on her lower lip.

“I was just about to load it up, actually. Want to see it?”

“If it’s not too much trouble . . .”

“Of course not.”

He pulled the moving blanket off, revealing the dark wood with intricate carvings of flowers, vines, and swans. Though the occasion it celebrated tore at his heart, he had never put so much work into a piece. He poured the beauty of the woman it represented into every detail. Emma’s eyes lit up as she ran her hands over the woodwork. The caramel stain brought out the natural beauty of the wood, but it would also make the delicate blush of the roses pop once the florist draped the arbor with them.

“It’s beautiful, Killian,” she told him softly, “exactly what I told you I wanted. More, actually.”

“Thank you,” he managed to tell her around the sudden lump in his throat.

The moment was broken by the ringing of Emma’s phone. She fished it out of her jeans pocket and pressed it to her ear. Killian busied himself covering the arbor and preparing it for transport while Emma paced across his workshop.

“Walsh, are you insane?” he heard her snap, “Our wedding is only six hours away!”

Killian tried not to eavesdrop, but as he glanced Emma’s way, he saw her face grow pale.

“Seriously? You’re doing this to me now?” Though her voice was harsh, her body trembled as she sank to an empty crate next to the table saw.

Killian frowned. He didn’t like how this sounded.

“These are all things you could have told me yesterday!” Emma’s voice rose. “Or better yet, last week, last month.”

She glanced over at Killian, and her face turned bright red. She shifted so that her back was to him. She lowered her voice as she spoke into her phone, but Killian still heard her.

“Is there someone else?”

Killian’s jaw clenched as he saw her shoulders fall and then begin to shake. The bastard.

Her voice was broken as she choked out her next words. “Well I hope you’re very happy together.”

She hung up and dropped her cell phone. Killian winced as it hit the cement floor. She covered her face with both hands and wept silently. He crossed the room and gently placed his hands on her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry.”

“What am I going to do?” she wept. “Oh, God! What am I going to do?” She turned to Killian, her eyes wide and frantic as she clutched at the front of his shirt. “We invited the media to the wedding! It was the only way to keep them from hounding us during our engagement. Now they’ll get an even better story - relationship guru Dr. Emma Swan gets jilted at the altar. I’m ruined! My career is over!”

She was on her feet, pacing the floor, tugging at the ends of her hair. He wanted to tell her she was overreacting, but he couldn’t lie. In this day and age of cancel culture and internet trolls, she would be ruined.

“You’re going to think I’m an opportunist,” she continued, “but my wedding day was also going to be the kick off for my next book. Tomorrow they’re announcing it’s release.”

“I’m not judging you, Swan,” he assured her. “What’s the new book?”

“Ladies, It’s More Than a Wedding,” Emma said sheepishly, “about how to plan for your marriage and not just the wedding.”

Emma groaned and dropped her head against the nearest wall. Killian was silent for a long moment, rolling an idea around in his head. She might shoot him down, call him crazy, but it was worth a shot.

“No one knows who your fiance is, right?”

She looked at him curiously. “No.”

“So . . . couldn’t anyone stand in for him?”

Emma’s mouth dropped open. “Are you crazy? Once the media knew it was a farce, things would be even worse. I have interviews lined up already. A promotion tour for the book. It’s about more than just the wedding.” She barked out a laugh. “Isn’t that ironic?”

Killian leveled her with a steady gaze. “What if it wasn’t a farce?”

She blinked. “You mean . . . like, actually marry someone else? Today?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

Emma let out another sarcastic chuckle. “Who the hell would agree to that?”

Killian wet his lips nervously. “I would.”

Emma shook her head in surprise. “You?”

He shrugged. “Well, I’m here, and I have nothing better to do today.”

“We’re talking about getting married, Killian. You know, commitment? Till death do us part?”

“Well,” Killian said slowly, shoving his hands in his jean pockets, “you need to stay married to promote your book, right? What are we talking? Six months? A year, at most?”

Emma’s brow furrowed as if she were contemplating it. But then she shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this! It would never work! How would it look if I got divorced in a year?”

“Or an annulment. You could blame it on me. I cheated on you or something. Make me out to be the bad guy.” He chuckled sardonically. “You might even get another best seller out of it. Dump His Cheating Ass, Ladies.”

He managed to get a real laugh out of her at that, and he smiled. Her mirth was short-lived, however. “But why would you do that? Tie yourself to me for a year, let your own reputation be damaged? What’s in it for you?”

I’m in love with you.

“I could use your help. With my family. Professional help.”

Emma narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Okaaay. How so?”

“My brother and his wife. Their marriage is a little rocky.” LIe. Liam and Elsa were relationship goals if he ever saw it. “I think it’s because her sister Anna and her husband Kristoff had to move in with them.” Another lie. They had moved in, but no two sisters were closer than Anna and Elsa.

“So why don’t they just make an appointment?”

“They, uh, have this thing about therapy. They think it’s a sign of weakness. Or an embarrassment. Anyway, but if you were around, you could casually help them out. I think you and Elsa would hit it off.”

“So you want to marry me in exchange for free counseling for your brother and his wife?”

She sounded skeptical, and naturally so. He tried to play it off. “My brother means everything to me. He’s all the family I have left. Plus, my niece and nephew deserve a steady home life, unlike what we had as kids.”

Emma and Killian just stood there looking intently at one another. He held his breath, fully expecting her to call him crazy and walk out the door. Her gaze darted to the arbor, now ready to be loaded onto the trunk.

“It would be a shame not to use that beautiful piece you made.”

Killian tried to hold back his smile and failed. “Consider it my wedding gift to my bride.”

“Okay, groom,” she told him with her hand outstretched for him to shake, “it’s a deal.”

[jadeile-writes]

Fanfic Progress Update 71

Hello, u guise~ It’s Saturday, so let’s do a progress update. Stay tuned to the end of this post for a spoiler-y glimpse into the next chapter of Adventure gone Mini AND a lil random oneshot.

Current WIPs:

Adventure gone Mini

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / The Minish Cap

Summary: Sidon is given his very own Sheikah Slate, the first replica Purah has managed to make, and sets out to travel with Link with the intention of registering warp points for convenient travel in the future. However, when a malfunction shrinks them down to the size of bugs, and they meet little people called the Minish, they have to change their plans from “fun adventuring” to “getting out of this mess”. Not that those two have to exclude one another. Link/Sidon.

Progress: Chapter 40 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 17th of June. Chapter 41 is half written and the scheduled posting date is 15th of July.

I post a new chapter every three weeks on Wednesdays. These updates always include a sneak-peek for the next chapter, slowly getting longer over the three weeks waiting period.

—–

Experiment in Romance

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary (temporary): Husk’s afterlife takes an odd turn when a drunk Alastor knocks on his door and has no intention of going to his own room for the night. It only gets weirder from there, leaving Husk with a most unexpected arrangement with the Radio Demon. Either it’ll be the best decision in his afterlife, or he’s simply out to break his own damn heart dealing with the fickle asshole. Radiohusk.

Progress: Chapters 1 and 2 are done, though I will need to check them out to see if they’re still good to go, as it’s been a while. Chapter 3 has been started, but the same applies. I’m tentatively bringing this one up here now that I’m dropping That Month, but we shall see if this becomes the project I’ll work on next or not. No progress; didn’t have much time to write this week. Hoping to get started next week.

—–

Hah! Our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: This is not a stand-alone story! This is a oneshot/drabble collection in the universe of “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”. Read the main story before bothering with this one.

I decided to give my readers a chance to throw Radiohusk prompts at me, and had the Afterlife-verse as an option to set the stories in. Everyone liked that, so this fic is now a thing. Enjoy the extra mischief from these two dorks!

Progress: Chapter 21 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 3rd of June. Chapter 22 hasn’t been started, but the scheduled posting date is 10th of July. A sneak-peek will be posted on Thursday.

I have 15 prompts left.

This fic receives a new chapter every Friday.

—–

Complete Trust

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary (temporary): Alastor always smiles. Except that sometimes, very rarely, he doesn’t. When you get to witness that, you know you’re special. Radiohusk-ish. Might tag as just friendship. Or both.

Progress: I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, but held onto it, indecisive on whether to post it here with the other drabbles or to actually publish it on AO3/ffnet for once. I’ve decided to publish. So, it’ll come out on 7th of July (Tuesday).

—–

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to someday:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

That month of the year (Hazbin Hotel)

—–

That’s it for the WIPs! Here are the promised sneak-peeks into Adventure gone Mini and the Hazbin oneshot (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fic itself due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

Mini

"I give you my tentative blessing to explore the shrine when you return, mister hero", Festari of the Abbey said once the children had been extracted from Link’s person and sent away. Again. This time Link wasn't actually expecting them to be truly gone; he liked to believe he learned from his mistakes most of the time. "However, we will have to have a serious talk about your conduct and carried weaponry when that time comes. I will not allow the shrine to be destroyed because of an unneeded exploration by a hero who isn't doing this for a purpose grander than simple curiosity. Are those acceptable terms for you?"

Link nodded eagerly. He didn't care if he had to carry a stick instead of a sword as long as he got to have an adventure. Besides, that was future Link's problem anyway. 'Fine by me. I will look forward to that.'

—–

Complete Trust

It was a well kept secret that Alastor did not, in fact, always smile like a lunatic.

Now, some might assume he stopped smiling in his sleep, which was actually not the case at all. Firstly, the fucker didn’t sleep very often. Secondly, when he did he usually did it by standing creepily in a corner, eyes open and glowing, sporting a wide creepy smile. Thirdly, the rare times he actually slept in a bed were done exclusively in the privacy of his own house, and only when nobody was around. So who fucking knew if he smiled then or not.

Some people might also think he’d drop the smile if he was spooked or scared or angry or some other emotion that caused normal people to stop smiling. Hah! As if. The motherfucker only changed the nuance of his smile instead of dropping it no matter what. It could get sharper when he was angry, small or forced when he was upset, fixed when he got surprised, sneer-like when he was disgusted, and so on.

So when did it actually drop?

—–

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

AO3    FFnet    Purple Crayon    Ko-fi     Radiohusk Discord

[darlingsdontdie]

New Yandere, Whump, and Dark Shipping Blog: Requests FAQ

Hey! So before I start writing and creating, I thought I'd get some common questions answered and out of the way! If you are concerned about your request or are unsure of its content, please first check this post before directly messaging me.

Request Content

Q: What kinds of requests do you fill?

A: I will fill almost any type of request! But here are some specific options with set structures and examples.

Headcanon Requests (bulleted, length depending on ask, ex: "Can I get headcanons for Requested Character with a short girlfriend?")

Scenario Requests (bulleted, LDOA, ex: "Can I get a scenario for if Requested Ship were getting married?")

Drabble Requests (prose, LDOA, ex: "Can I request a drabble about RC being worried when their darling is sick?")

Playlist Requests (list of songs, 1-5 song limit, ex: "Do you have 4 songs for a jealous RC?")

Graphic Requests (edit style, 1-4 images, ex: "Could you make a graphic for yandere RC with this item or quote?")

Aesthetic Requests (moodboard style, image with 6-9 sections, ex: "Can I get an aesthetic for dark!RS?")

Prompt Requests (list of brainstormed dialogue and short sentences, LDOA, ex: "Do you have dialogue prompts for RC kidnapping their darling?")

Plot Bunny Requests (short prose paragraphs or bulleted, LDOA, ex: "I want to write about yandere RC surprising their darling but don't know how or why. Are there are any plot bunnies you can give me?").

New! RP Idea Requests (selection of 1-4 short rp-style bios/plots/starters, LDOA, ex: "Do you have any yandere rp ideas for Requested Fandom ocs?")

New! Fancast Requests (moodboard or edit style, 2-9 images per RC/RS, ex: "Who would you cast as yandere RC(s)?")

New! Faceclaim Recommendation Requests (bulleted list of names with short explanations or reasons, LDOA, ex: "My yandere OC is tall, has dark hair, and soft features. He acts friendly but is the violent type. Can I have a few fcs?")

Requests that don't specify will be answered with a bulleted list or possibly a short paragraph. There may be times I'm willing to fill some requests but not others due to time constraints, but that doesn't mean I won't ever fill them!

Fandom requests involving AUs and crossovers are welcome (ex: "Headcanons of how yandere Naruto in a wild west AU?" or "Headcanons about what would happen if yandere Ten and yandere Crowley fell for the same person?"), as are original requests based on existing media (ex: "Can I get headcanons about a popular girl type who has a Breakfast Club experience and ends up going yandere for the criminal?" or "Can you write a drabble about a yandere whose story is like this music video?").

Q: What characters do you write for?

A: I'll write for any character that I am familiar with, with a few exceptions for characters I'm aware of but uncomfortable with. To get started, here's a list of fandoms that I have a solid handle on!

Anime (Naruto, Ouran High School Host Club, Death Note, Hetalia, etc.)

Western Animation (Archer, Castlevania, She-Ra: Princesses of Power, etc.)

DC and Marvel Comics

Star Wars (no New Trilogy - Originals, Prequels, Clone Wars, & Legends only)

Other Major Film Franchises (Pirates of the Caribbean, the MCU, James Bond, etc.)

Harry Potter and related properties

Percy Jackson and related properties

Hunger Games and related properties

Twilight and related properties

A Song of Ice and Fire (willing to try TV canon but much more familiar with Book canon)

Crime Dramas (Barry, Good Girls, Hannibal, Mr. Robot, Revenge, etc.)

Historical Drama (Vikings, The Tudors, Les Miserables, The Borgias, Downton Abbey, Peaky Blinders, Taboo, etc.)

Science Fiction and Fantasy TV/Lit (Star Trek TOS/AOS; Doctor Who, New Who only; Merlin; Good Omens; Lucifer; Galavant, etc.)

Horror-Thriller TV/Lit (American Horror Story, The Haunting of Hill House, Hemlock Grove, Alias Grace, etc.)

Sitcoms (familiar with Friends, all the Michael Schur products, Community, That 70s Show, Jane the Virgin, Schitt's Creek, Superstore, IASIP, and others)

Teen Dramas (Teen Wolf, Pretty Little Liars, Freaks and Geeks, Glee, etc., but no Riverdale)

Chinese and Korean Dramas (A Korean Odyssey/Hwayugi, Meteor Gardens, A Love So Beautiful, What's Wrong With Secretary Kim, Romance Is a Bonus Book, My First First Love, Black, etc.)

Video Games (Assasain's Creed, Portal 2, Fire Emblem, AFK Arena, Professor Layton, etc.)

Something that's not here can still be requested - I'm familiar with a lot of media and do my best to keep up.

As I implied above, I am also happy to write for original characters. Whether that means you telling me about your own OCs, or me creating my own characters for you down the line, either is great.

I will NOT be writing RPF or RPS. I do not approve of real person shipping and real person fiction makes me uncomfortable - if that's what you're looking for, there are a huge number of other blogs that will cater to your needs directly. Which leads me into...

Prohibited Requests, and Non-Yandere Content

Q: Will you fill every request you get?

A: I'll fill requests that interest me and that I feel comfortable posting, and that will probably be most of them! I am really excited to get started. But I still reserve the right to refuse a prompt - I'm writing for free, so no one is entitled to have their ask filled. If I choose to deny your prompt, I will answer privately and, if the issue is with content, update the blog so it's made clear that the type of prompt is not taken.

Q: What is and isn't allowed to be requested?

A: To be honest, most stuff is allowed and some stuff isn't. There's a lot of ground to cover here, so I've divided it based on the nature of the concern.

Q: Do you accept NSFW/SFW requests?

A: I'll do NS and SFW work, but I've got more experience with SFW content. This doesn't mean I do it exclusively, just that I won't think to go NS unless you mention it. Specify for NS and it'll be included happily!

Q: Do you accept violent requests?

Violence against non-SO characters and dub-con is okay always, as is situational or over-the-top violence, even murder, involving SOs (ex: "the yandere and their darling are soldiers on opposite sides of the war" or "the yandere saws off their darling's legs so they have to carry them everywhere").

However, there is some tricky area with violent fantasies. If I think the content strays too close to serious physical domestic abuse, then I'll likely deny the request. This is partially why I prefer requests that get violent to focus on non-SO targets, so if it doesn't matter to you, that's almost guaranteed to get a response.

Non-con I can mention and discuss in headcanon posts and possibly prompt lists, but I will not be writing drabbles or scenarios for non-con prompts.

Q: Do you accept kink requests?

A: It will depend on the type and whether I feel morally and psychologically comfortable with it. For example, hypnosis, size kink, gender stuffing, BDSM, roleplay, etc., are all currently accepted because they don't seem to affect me in a negative way. I am willing to do ships for cousins and step family, as well. However, I will not under any circumstances deal with r*ceplay, p*dophilia, fetishizing of trans people or people of color, or inc*stplay, and I will not be doing ship work for anyone more closely related than cousins, including but not limited to siblings, parents (blood or adopted), or aunts and uncles. None of this is negotiable. I am willing to consider AUs where two characters aren't family, or non romantic yandere behavior between family, but even then, the request's on thin ice. Anything super unhygienic or illness related is probably something I won't be interested in not as a rule or for moral reasons but just because it can exacerbate my anxiety and OCD. I also do not fill prompts related to minors at all, be it explicit/adult/sexual content or otherwise. Requests for characters who are minors will have them aged up unless otherwise specified - in which case you will promptly be blocked.

Q: Can I request a dark imagine that is not yandere related?

A: Of course! Just make sure to be specific about what you want from it.

Q: Can I request a ship or character imagine that isn't yandere or dark?

A: Yes, though I won't promise it'll be what you're looking for. I fall towards horror, thriller, and angst when I write, regardless of my intentions.

Q: Can I request something that's not ship or character imagine related?

A: Sure, I'd be honored, but again, I don't promise to fulfill every request. This blog is intended to be stress relief, self indulgence.

How to Make a Request

Q: How do I contact you for requests?

A: Asks, messages, replies on my original posts, and even more casual things like tagging me in yandere or writing related posts are all great ways to interact with me!

Q: When do you accept requests?

A: Requests will be opened or closed depending on how busy I am and whether I'm caught up on them.

Currently, requests are closed. However, I've decided that requests are reopened on my days off. The days should be listed in my bio.

Q: Do you accept anonymous requests?

A: Yes, I do! I also will not publish asks from users unless the user specifically clarifies that they are okay with it, just in case the user sent the ask from their blog on accident. User asks that aren't specified as safe to publish will be responded to privately when the request is filled.

Q: How will I know my request is filled?

A: As stated above, anonymous asks and user asks clarified as safe to publish will be published with a response. User asks without any clarification will be responded to privately. Anonymous asks asking for privacy for any reason will not be published. Messages will also get a reply. Users who send requests that are kept private will not be tagged unless you ask me to. Users with published asks will always be tagged in the final post, but it is totally okay to ask me to change or erase the tag! Other than this, checking for posts is up to the requester.

Other Kinds of Interaction

Q: Is there anyone who you don't want interacting with your blog?

A: Anyone complicit in nazism, racism, transphobia, homophobia, misogyny, xenophobia, pedophilia/MAPs, or any other politicized violence against a people is uneqivocally not welcome to engage with my work. I also have a zero tolerance policy for true crime fans who support or absolve serial killers. Please respect this - anyone who doesn't will be blocked. Anyone who pushes the issue will be reported.

Q: What about kink or otherkin blogs?

A: Honestly, I don't know much about either community. As of now, I'm fine with interaction. I'd ask that I not receive any kin related requests, because I am not familiar with the concept, community, and issues accompanying. Kinks can be requested but as stated above, are not guaranteed to be filled. Please don't bring discourse or discourse related requests here. I am not equipped to or interested in getting involved. If that changes, I have a main and other side blogs. This blog will never be a place for it.

Q: Are you okay if we interact with you or send you asks and messages that aren't requests?

A: Absolutely! I would love to talk with you. I am always interested in discussing any of the topics covered on this blog, or anything else for that matter! I pride myself on trying to be not just nice, but kind, and hopefully that comes through in every interaction. However, I'll expect the same courtesy from anyone who'd reach out to me, or use my posts to communicate to others for that matter. Anyone who doesn't will be, you guessed it, blocked. Anyone who pursues it further, yeah, will be reported.

Q: You have a lot of rules about requests and interaction, but you don't seem to post much and you aren't very active. Is this all just awkward and formal overkill, or is there a point?

A: I've explained all of this clearly, in as an accessible way as I can think of, because I want to eliminate the potential for drama, confusion, and other misunderstandings.

Online communities tend to be chock-full of plenty and I do not, nor does anyone who visits, need another reason to be tired. I'm not detailing all of this upfront because I expect to be very popular, or because I like listening to myself talk for paragraphs on end. I don't want a theoretical lack of information to be used to hurt either myself or others, though some of it shouldn't have to be spelled out in the first place.

But considering how ridiculously easy it is to misinterpret each other online, and how much of a disadvantage neuroatypical people like myself are when things are left just implicit rather than made what you could argue as exhaustingly explicit, I figured a crazy FAQ was a small price to pay for a peaceful environment.

TLDR: it certainly might be overkill, but that doesn't mean there is no point to it.

Q: What should requesters and followers call you anyways?

A: I'm fine with my username. If you're going for a different vibe, Red or Darlings sounds nice too. If you can come up with something catchier, feel free to try!

💀💀💀

On that note, I also may be slow going when it comes to requests. All I can do is promise to put a lot of thought into my replies, even though speed is not guaranteed. Any other questions can be asked directly, and I would be more than happy to answer them!

[cheshirecaine]

Tagged by my #1 sideho @rainingskyguy

Rule: Tag 9 people you’d like to get to know better

Top 3 ships: Fucking hell, mate. I’m so inconsistent about ships nowadays cos I’m so burned out from fandom fatigue.

• JayTim (Batfandom) are never coming off the list. I was really worried I could only think of more comics stuff: SuperBat (Clark/Bruce), BatLantern (Hal/Bruce) but fortunately!

• BakuDeku (BNHA) I have non-DC options to give lol

• ShinAi (Bleach) – I wish there was more fluffy shit of them tbh.

Honourable mention to Gaskier – Geralt/Jaskier of Witcher fame.

This just proves I haven’t been a honed into a single ship gal since my JayTim Era (I still miss writing for them). Like there are loads more I like and love, it mostly just involves having a couple of fave characters in a story that I can mash together: IsshiRyuu and GrimmIchi (both Bleach), One Piece ones. 

Idk man, I like a lotta ships. I haven’t even mentioned a tonne of others just in these few fandoms, I just read ones I like + get introduced to new ones.

Lipstick or chapstick? I like both! But I wear lipstick so rarely nowadays I might go chapstick . . . Ahh but I do enjoy lipstick more.

Last song listened to: *goes to check* . . . Pitbull ft. T-Pain - Hey Baby (Drop It To The Floor) -.-”

Last film watched? Started rewatching Main Hoon Na idk why but I wasn’t really trying so that doesn’t count. *checks Netflix* was kinda skim rewatching Bright.

Honestly the last thing I legit watched was Weathering for You like a week ago. Got me so emo.

Currently reading? Got bored and re-read Cuckoo’s Calling, so I moved on to (skim) its sequel The Silkworm.

Slowly getting back into actual books <3 I’ve been wanting to for years

Tagging 10 cos I actually managed to think of that many, huzzah!

@smorgasbordofobsessions @shapooda @owari26 @hadrian-pendragons​ (I’m sure you were tagged like I was but idc) @theothersarshi​ @fiendtalks @eclipsemidnight @absolem0 @oh-mother-of-darkness @cruciomysoul 

[youknowmymethods]

Content Creator Interview #2

In this week’s interview, fandom friends @lilsherlockian1975 and @mrsmcrieff talk about whether they found Sherlock hot or not at first sight, how publicly sharing their work changed their writing, and the hardest thing about writing smutfic (pun fully intended).

And for those who don’t know, today is Lillian’s Birthday, so m’dear, Many Happy Returns!!!!

Hey, so Lilsherlockian1975 and myself, MrsMCrieff, have decided to interview each other for Aine’s challenge. We’re going to try to answer each other’s questions but there is always the danger of us going massively off piste. Our conversations in the past have been eclectic and very wide-ranging not to mention M rated.

 Anyway, I thought we could start by saying how we came into the fandom and more than that writing in the fandom. Lil, do you want to start?

Lil: All right, my sister on another continent, here’s how it went: As I’ve explained about finding The Full House on Pinterest, let’s explore what came before that moment, then just after... I was working third shift at a hotel (I had to as Mr Lil and I didn’t really have any childcare options at the time, so we just worked opposite shifts). The hotel was in a very small town - we were never busy, some nights we sold maybe 2 rooms - I usually spent my time watching Netflix. After making my way through Doctor Who, Star Trek Next Gen, Voyager then (God help me) DS9, Farscape and Firefly, I’d finally run out of anything to watch. You’d be surprised how quickly you can burn through a series binge watching for 8 hours at a time (and getting paid for it!).

 Then… then I found Sherlock. Well, that changed things… a bit.

 “Good Lord, who is the Cumberstud chap and why won’t he have all the sex with me!?” was my first thought, my second was, “Maybe I have a chance with the dishy DI?” and third? “Oh… what fresh hell is this ‘Mycroft’? Yummy!” Then finally, “Ahh, did the casting director somehow read my diary? Creepy but… all right.” To my defense, it was late and I usually worked on very little sleep. Also, I’m a kinky bitch.

 I’d never been involved in a ‘fandom proper’, I suppose. That’s not to say that I wasn’t a fangirl. I am and always have been. I was hugely into the Kevin Smith movies, going as far as visiting the Quick Stop and RST Video in Lenardo, NJ, respectively, as well as The Secret Stash, in Red Bank. I was a comic book geek in my youth, Marvel mostly, but some DC as well.

 After reading The Full House, I desperately needed MORE Sherlock and luckily enough, there was more to be found.

 At first I was just reading, then I wrote and posted a couple of (horrible) fics and met this fellow writer named MrsMCrieff (I might have had a little ‘writing crush’ on you, Mrs!). We chatted on FF.net and struck up a friendship.

 So, for me, writing came before fandom. Mrs was doing some betaing for me, but I didn’t ask for help often; I hated bothering her all the time for the multitude of stories I was turning out. At some point around here, I got an elusive invite to AO3 from sherlockian87, bless her soul, because I kept trying to join and couldn’t get a blessed invitation. Also around this time, I had written a prompt and got a PM from MizJoely asking if she could fix some of my mistakes (she was very sweet about it, even though I totally flipped - half fangirling, half losing my shit because ‘Crap, I screwed up so bad, here was The MizJoely asking if she could edit out my mistakes!’) but she wasn’t being critical at all, of course, just helpful as I soon found out. Shortly after, now having formed a friendship with MIz, she suggested that I start a Tumblr blog. And that’s how it all started.

Yes, sorry… I, um, tend to be a tad loquacious. Writing out my answers doesn’t help one little bit.

 Okay, Mrs, right back atcha!

 Mrs: OK, shall I try to be more concise? I’ll probably fail as I’m terrible as writing short fics they always seem to end up spread over multiple chapters.

 I’m another one who had always been a fangirl, Doctor Who, Buffy, Twilight, vampire Diaries (yeah, I love my vampires) but I’d also been a Sherlock Holmes fan. I’d read all the books in my teens, watched the Basil Rathbone and Jeremy Brett adaptations and even stayed at the Sherlock Holmes hotel on Baker St so when a new series was advertised it was an easy sale.

 I was late to the cumberobsession though. I have to admit watching the first two series as they came out and I remember thinking I like them but it’s a shame Sherlock isn’t that hot. I know, I know, I’m embarrassed even as I write that.

 It all changed after watching season 3 and I blame the Sherlolly kiss 100%. I watched the series, DELETED the records!! And then realised I was spending a lot of time thinking about Sherlock and Benedict...that turned into looking him up online and from there it was a short step to reading Sherlolly fics on fanfic (I was already reading fics for other shipping obsessions). Anyway, it didn’t take long before Sherlolly took over all my other ships and Benedict was my number one hottie.

 As for writing, I hadn’t written anything fiction based since school and school was a long time ago...almost thirty years. But one day I was looking for a specific fic, I wanted to read about Sherlock and Molly having to share body heat and I just couldn’t find anything that satisfied me. I’m not sure why but in that moment I decided to write it myself and in half an hour I’d written Frozen...my first ever fic. It took another couple of hours to pluck up the courage to post it and I clearly remember feeling a bit sick and my hand shaking as I pressed the final button to post.

 Thankfully, I almost immediately started to receive positive reviews and feedback and it wasn’t long before I started to write more...the rest as they say is history. Lil got in touch soon after and it was fun chatting to another writer just starting out. We soon found we were not dissimilar in age and both had two sons and the friendship started there.

 We’ve been through quite a lot over the last few years Lil and written some fab stories. Wouldn’t you agree?

 (I should let on that we are now faffing about trying to find the original list of questions...we are trying to be professional).

 Ok Lil, so I’ve looked at Aine’s questions and they look really hard. Any preferences on which ones you want to answer :).

 Lil: I think a great follow up to that first one is this: How did posting your first story change your process of writing? So I’m shooting it back to you, Mrs, and you can send me that one or select a new one for me. Tag, you’re it!

 Mrs: I can tell you quite simply how it changed my process of writing...given that it was my first piece of writing in 30 years I was starting from scratch when it came to any process. One thing that I started with that’s held true for me ever since is that my stories are fully mapped out and written before I even start posting the first chapter. I will edit and make refinements but the bones of the story are there.

 I know lots of people post a chapter and then write the next chapter but that would put me under too much pressure. The downside is that if someone gives me a prompt they could be waiting months before they see it posted. The upside is if I’ve started posting a fic you will get the end of it as it’s already been written.

 There have only been two exceptions to this method: Sherlock Holmes, Vampire which I worked on over a year or so posting four chapters every so often as I wrote them...it was stressful. And the other is Never Have I Ever which was/is more of a collection of one shots woven together into a fic.

 How about you Lil? How did it change for you?

 Lil: So, I’d been writing little stories and whatnot for years and years but, having no idea that there was such a thing as ff.net or AO3, I had no place to put them. Writing was always a very, very distant dream of mine. I have loads of notebooks filled with stories, story ideas and my own personal ramblings (unfortunately, my Tumblr followers now have to read the ‘ramblings business’). I stopped for many years after my roommate/best friend since childhood found some of my writing in college that I’d carefully hidden under my bed. I came home to find her in my room, sat on the floor, on the phone with our Art History professor (whom she was sleeping with), as she read him my story and laughed hysterically at its awfulness.

 I was devastated and vowed never to write again.

 But that changed, of course. Those first maybe ten stories were just me letting my mind go and getting out what I wanted to say (aided by liberal amounts of wine). Since then, however, my ‘process’ has changed drastically. I don’t always write an outline (never for one shots, which I write often) but I generally do for long fics. If not, it’s easy for me to get lost and miss critical points. My writing has become more about ‘layering’ for lack of a better word.

 I found after those first few posted fics, that in going back and re-reading them I wanted to make changes. I didn’t re-edit them (because I’m lazy), but it made me realize that my writing required more time and proofing before posting; that first draft is just the start for me - a thin layer of primer paint on a canvas, if you will. I then read over it and add more details and more and more until I get the desired effect. Again, much like oil painting, I have to build things up, layer by layer. This works for me; I have no idea if it’s a proper method of writing. So, posting my first fic(s) helped me learn that I shouldn’t be so trigger happy about posting if the story wasn’t ready.

 Okay, Mrs, this one is geared specifically towards you. I don’t think anyone would argue with me about your supernatural ability to write ‘case fics’, so let me ask: Which do you prefer writing, case fics or fluffy smut-filled romps? And why?

 Mrs: Oh God, ask me something easy why don’t you. Both, I like writing both. I love the depth of a case fic, the idea, the research, plotting it out and working out the characters and detail but it’s so time consuming and I often write a bit, leave it, come back to it etc. etc. so a detailed case fic can take six months.

 Fluff on the other hand is less satisfying but quicker (my minds already in the gutter with an analogy).

 Woohoo I kept is fairly short for once. So, here’s one that’s good for you. I’m endlessly envious of how easily you make friends and how you know so many people in the fandom whereas I’m the introverted hermit. Which other authors are you friends with, and how have they help you become a better writer?

 Lil: Goodness! You make me sound like a social butterfly (Mr Lil calls me that all the time!). I like people, plain and simple. Other than you, I am close to MizJoely and Darnedchild, that’s no secret, so I’ll talk about them first (you included, because you’ve made me a better writer, I’m sure of it - have actual proof!)

 I cannot count the ways Miz has helped me improve my writing. She figuratively took me by the ear and said “okay, you don’t suck but do you even know what a comma is used for?” No, not those actual words, she was much kinder about it, but I got the hidden meaning and I needed it, trust me. She also challenges me and is not afraid to be honest with me when I’ve written something that isn’t good or perhaps doesn’t fit. I know I’ve improved since she started betaing for me, like a 1000%. And Child… When I volunteered to beta for the Big Bang Challenge, I had no idea what I was getting into, but man… she’d written and enormous fic. Good, amazing really, but it was longer than anything I’d ever worked on before. It scared the shit out of me but I really think it was exactly what I needed. Betaing someone else’s work can really make you see your own mistakes from a new perspective. I feel like I jumped ahead after working on the BBC with Child. As for you, MrsMCrieff, just the other day I had The Best compliment… someone actually thought I was British! Yes, that happened. I can only attribute that little feat to you, my friend. You’ve taught me when to add a ‘u’, when not to zed and about many different terms like pavement, taps, hob, loo, trousers (we really don’t say that here!). Not to mention the fact that most European men aren’t circumcised. Who knew?! It’s pretty common in the US.

 But that’s just a few. I cannot count the number of fandom friends who have helped me and all the ways that they’ve done so. That doesn’t mean I won’t try…

 There’s likingthistoomuch who always listens to my ideas and encouraged me to post my first Harry Potter fic. OhAine has been a true friend from the very beginning, always insightful and supportive. Mellovesall who is just too sweet for words and always helps with edits, no matter what’s going on in her life. Kendrapendragon who let me bounce ideas for my Mirror Has Two Faces AU off of her for like a whole day! the-sapphiresky who has helped me with this historical AU that may or may not ever see the light of day. Allthebellsinvenice who answered about a dozen questions (over two years!) for Dig Down Deep when I’d panic about some D/s situation I’d written myself into. o0katiekins0o who backs me up when I’m in the middle of a sensitive subject. I can always depend on her to help me when I’m afraid I’m crossing a line. Broomclosetkink, Lord help me! She’s pinch hit for me when I’ve written a fic for Miz or if I just need a good laugh. She’s the best. Sweets… it’s very hard to talk about sweet-sweet-escape. I still cannot even bring myself read her stories or the ones I wrote for her without breaking down, but no one was more supportive or kind to me than Sweets. I miss her so much.

 Then there’s all the love and support I received from everyone during The Fic That Shall Not Be Named debacle. That’s when I knew how much this fandom (well, this ship, really) had my back! I will never forget how much love and support I received. Bless you all!

 I’m forgetting people and I hate that. But I really do love all my fandom friends as if I see them and hang out with them every day. I mean that.

 Okay, Mrs, here’s one for you (I’m going back to the list for this one because I like it and I think it’s interesting): What’s the most difficult thing about writing characters of the opposite sex?

 Mrs: See, see I said you knew loads of people!

 As for your question that’s easy to answer...knowing what it feels like when they get aroused and orgasm. I’m more than happy being female but it would be kind of interesting just to be a guy for one day. It would improve my writing no end.

 On a wider note when it comes to writing characters I don’t think any of us made it easy on ourselves when we decided to try to write being a high functioning sociopathic genius. I think I can speak for most of us when I say he’s not the easiest person to try to write authentically. I just wish I had half his knowledge then I wouldn’t feel like such an idiot when I’m writing him.

 I gave my youngest son the option of any number between 1 and 40. He chose 7 so does writing energise or exhaust you?

 Lil: It absolutely energises me! I do get frustrated trying to find time to write, but actually writing does amazing things for my mental and physical self. I find that I’m much more productive around the house when I’m in the middle of a writing jag. I’ll sit and write for a while, then get up and pound out some chores (usually more quickly as to get back to my computer). Somehow, this works for me. Frankly, it’s probably got to do with my ADHD. I’m the kind of person who needs to do multiple things at once. I’m the same at work; I cannot just stand behind the registrar for 8 hours. I practically beg my managers for extra work, which they’re happy to give me.

 I have an original question for you, love: How does a bad review affect you?

 Mrs: I’ll be honest I don’t react well to a bad review but it does depend on whether I think it’s valid or not. You probably know each and every time I’ve had one because I will probably have sent you a screen shot and asked your opinion. Thankfully they have been few and far between, occasionally they have made me think...especially if I’m being accused of using a tired old trope and I’ve made the effort to up my game in future fics but often they are just being nasty for the sake of it.

 Writing is such a personal thing though, we give a piece of ourselves in each and every fic so it’s hard to not take criticism very personally.

 Same question to you Lil.

 Lil: Oh, I’m a giant baby about a bad review and have been known to take it very personally. At first I brood… like really hard, thinking on the entire thing much longer than necessary. I suppose it depends on the nature and tone, for the most part though. If it’s attacking and spiteful, I’ll attack right back but if it’s coming from a ‘goodish’ place, I do try to look at my writing a bit more objectively (I don’t always succeed). Anonymous bad reviews get to me the most. The fact that I cannot reply drives me up the wall!

 Okay, we’re wrapping this up (else we could go on forever!) Thanks so much and a big thanks to Aine for organizing this as well!

 Mrs & Lil

Next Week:

Posting on Friday 01 March it’s @ohaine ‘s turn (eek!) to interview @ashockinglackofsatin

[fairyroses]

Do you think I should watch Gotham?

Ahh, I’m guessing you sent me this ask because you were debating between starting Sleepy Hollow or Gotham? Sorry I didn’t answer it sooner. Anyway, I’m ngl, I’m kinda glad you went with Sleepy Hollow, especially after that post you reblogged yesterday about hating unhappy endings, because unhappy endings are pretty much the thesis statement of Gotham. Like, the show’s whole premise is based on the gradual deterioration of Gotham City, with the goal of making it so bad that Bruce Wayne eventually sees dressing up as a bat and fighting crime as a reasonable option. 

Don’t get me wrong, I loved the first 2 seasons, and there are some great moments, characters, and actors on the show (lord knows I’ll always be an Oswald stan, even though I haven’t watched the show in a season and a half alksjdflkd), but eventually I just got sick of the contrived writing and plot devices that were so clearly only thrown in to make sure that no character is ever happy for too long. Like, it’s just a bummer eventually, you know? (It’s also why I generally dislike all Batman-related things in DC, and why I’ve gravitated much more to the Super-related media, which is fundamentally Hope-based instead of dark and edgy and miserable). 

So like, if you really like the Batman universe (ESPECIALLY the villains), then maybe Gotham would be good for you? Like, there are still plenty of people who watch it and enjoy it. And maybe someday after the show is done with its last season, I might finish it, and I probably wouldn’t actively hate it while watching. Mostly, the writing in season 3 just Disappointed me, and then I lost interest in pretty much every character’s storylines other than Oswald, and eventually I just…stopped keeping up with the episodes. So yeah. 

The fandom was fun most of the time, though! Lots of good art and fics and memes. If you ever do decide to watch the show then you can always scroll through the Gotham tag on my blog for fandom content (same thing goes for Sleepy Hollow, once you finish it). :) 

[agatharionicky]

Spooky Scary Skeletons

Chapter: one/one

Summary: "What about a chick magnet and a chick?" Sara asked, pulling up the picture on her phone to show Ava.

"No," Ava said, scrunching up her nose in disgust.

The couple was lounging on the bed at Ava's house that night. With Sara laying on her stomach sideways across the bed and Ava leaning against the headboard with a glass of wine.

"Okay, what about a coffee barista and a frappuccino?" Sara asked.

Fandom: DC’s Legends of Tomorrow.

Relationship: Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe.

Characters: Sara Lance, Ava Sharpe, Charlie, Zari Tomaz, Mick Rory, Nora Darhk, and Ray Palmer.

Chapter Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: Halloween, Costume Party, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Avalance Halloween fun! (This is an old one but It’s not posted here so!)

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

……………………………………………………………………

"Hey, Sara?" Zari asked, pulling her yogurt spoon from her lips. "Can I turn the bridge into a haunted maze for the party?"

"What party?" Sara asked, sitting her oatmeal breakfast down on the table next to Ava.

It was a fairly late morning and the crew was lazy in their efforts to get up and start the day. The majority of them were still in their pajamas as they got breakfast and were not too chatty as they ate. Apart from Zari, Ray, and Ava who were always the early birds of the team.

"The Halloween party? We are having a party, right!" Zari exclaimed.

"A party?" Nate said, popping up his head from where he had been staring into his coffee.

"A party?" Ray sang, as cheerful as ever that morning.

"Oh no," Ava said, knowing exactly where this was going.

"Can we have a party?" Mona sang, perking up.

"Can I get drunk?" Mick added, smiling despite the weary look he had a moment ago.

"Can I get laid?" Charlie sang as they all broke out in song for the last verse.

"Will there be a pretty girl for me to serenade?"

"Not you too," Ava said looking over as had Nora joined in. "It’s too early for this."

"A party, a party. Can we have a party?"

"Can I get drunk? Can I get laid?"

"Will, there be a pretty girl for me to serenade?"

Ava dropped her head into her folded arms as everyone else sang the rhyme again, but Sara wrapped her arm around Ava’s shoulder giving her a quick squeeze. "All right that's enough. We can have a party, but keep it to the bridge."

"Yes!" They all shouted.

Zari pulled out her tablet and pulled up the Pinterest board she had made with all her ideas. Her enthusiasm was contagious as they all talked over each other about the drinks and decorations they wanted. Ava gave Sara a weary look knowing how out of control these things could get, but Sara just smiled and leaned in. She kissed her lips and scooted her chair closer to her.

"Relax, it’ll be fun. I promise."

"I don’t know," Ava said, still not on board with the party. "I’ve never even been tricking or treating, much less an actual Halloween party."

"All the more reason for us to do this, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. We can dress up, have some fun food and drinks and if you’re lucky I’ll dance for you."

Ava blushed and hind her pink cheeks in Sara’s shoulder, kissing her bare skin. "Okay."

Sara leaned her head down onto Ava’s and they enjoyed the quiet moment together, despite the loud and busy conversation happening in front of them. That is, until Zari decided to try out the strobe lights and dubstep music. Causing Ava to jump and fall back in her chair.

"Zari!" Ava shouted as Sara helped her up. "A little bit of warning next time okay."

"Oops."

……………………………………………………………………

"What about a chick magnet and a chick?" Sara asked, pulling up the picture on her phone to show Ava.

"No, it just seems wrong," Ava said, scrunching up her nose in disgust.

The couple was lounging on the bed at Ava's house that night. With Sara laying on her stomach sideways across the bed and Ava leaning against the headboard with a glass of wine.

"Okay, what about a coffee barista and a frappuccino?" Sara asked.

"No, what about Marcie and Patty from Peanuts?" Ava asked showing Sara the photo she had found on her phone.

"No," Sara said, with a shake of her head. "We could do a cat lady and her cat."

"No, Mona said, she's doing that. Or something like that." Ava said, trying to think about what Mona was saying about her costume the other day.

"What about a skeleton and the grim reaper."

"No, but, what if we did Edgar Allan Poe and his raven?"

"No, what about a skeleton and a vampire!"

"No, if we're going to do a couples costume I want us to match more and why do I get the idea that all of your costumes are the sexy kind?" Ava asked looking down at Sara with her eyebrows raised.

Sara gave her a sultry smile and a wink. Ava just rolled her eyes and looked back down at her phone. It wasn't necessarily Ava’s first Halloween with Sara, but it was her first Halloween party. Last year they had just watched Halloween movies and handed out candy to trick-or-treaters and that was Ava's plan for this year as well, but Sara had never needed an excuse to dress up or to party.

"What about a pair of Beanie Babies?" Ava suggested.

"NO!" Sara yelled, rolling over onto her back and onto Ava's feet.

"Okay, Sara just admit it. You want to wear a skin tight costume, so I can try and find something we can agree on," Ava said, fed up with the current argument that was going nowhere.

"I just want to wear a sexy skin tight costume," Sara said, rolling over until she was resting in Ava's lap. "It's Halloween, I just want to have fun, get drunk, and wear a costume that has you staring at me all night."

"Okay fine," Ava said, letting her fingers run threw Sara's hair. "But I would rather wear something fun."

"Okay," Sara agreed.

They went over several options that they have been throwing at each other for the last hour. They had been having this fight all week as they tried to figure out something that they could do together. Now, they were down to the wire as it was October 30th.

"You really want to be a skeleton?" Ava asked.

"Yes," Sara said, smiling up at her.

"Okay, well I guess I could be a ghost, but like one with a white suit and hair."

Sara smiled imagining Ava in a suit with blood. She watched has Sara wiggled in excitement and got up from the bed. She went one grabbed Ava's Time Courier and opened a portal into their bedroom on the Waverider. Ava followed her threw the open portal as Sara opened the second drawer in the cabinet that was built into the wall and pulled out She held up the costume for Ava to see. It was definitely a sexy skin tight costume. It was a three piece skeleton corset, leggings, and black with white rimmed tutu.

Ava just shook her head and smiled. "Okay but now we need to get a costume for me."

……………………………………………………………………

The Halloween party was in full swing. The majority of the lights had been turned off, leaving only red and gray lights. Zari had gotten an actual smoke machine that had flooded the ground. With ghosts and skeletons hung up around the room and a vast array of spider webs crisscrossed the ceiling Zari had gone all out. Ava had already managed to get caught up in one of the spider webs and after a cup of blood punch that was heavily spiked, she was happy to sit for the rest of the party talk with Nora at one of the tables.

"Why a witch?” Ava asked Nora as she set down her yellow and black scarf on the table narrowly avoiding one of the candles set up among the pumpkins.

Nora just shrugged, "I think Ray just wanted an excuse to wear the beard and I couldn't say no."

They both looked over to where Ray was dressed as Dumbledore complete with a long white beard, standing next to the food table and talking with Nate who was dressed as Indiana Jones.

"I suppose I don't have to ask why you chose your costume,” Nora said, referring to the ghost white and gray suit that Ava was wearing along with the skull makeup and splashes of blood and cuts, before looking over to where Sara was dancing with Mona and Charlie, the white skull face makeup and bones of her costume glowed in the dark light. Accenting the low cut corset and short skirt.

"It’s what she wanted."

Nora laughed and Ava rolled her eyes at her friend, looking back at Sara. She caught Ava’s eye and now was purposely dancing seductively until Charlie pulled her aside and they went over can grab another drink.

"We’re not whipped," Ava said looking back at Nora.

"No absolutely not," Nora said with a shake of her head and a frown on her lips, as she quickly took another sip of her drink.

"Yeah, of course not," Ava said shaking your head too fast.

They took one look at each other and burst out into a fit of giggles. They both knew that they were head over heels for their partners.

"Hey, did you finish the book club book?" Ava asked thinking about the Halloweenish, boy wizard book set in England. Mona had been appalled when both of them admitted they had never read it.

"Yes," Nora said reaching over and slapping Ava's arm. "And you should too it's actually pretty good. "

"I know," Ava said frowning at the thought. "I just read the first few pages, but it was just dull and childish and the way his family treats him…"

"It gets better," Nora said. "And you know how disappointed Mona is going to be."

"What's going to disappoint me?" Mona asked appearing at their table out of breath I'm dancing but smiling, complete with cute cat whiskers headband and cat ears.

"The fact that we didn't save you any of Lady Bird Johnson's pecan pie," Nora said, quickly covering and trying her best to not look guilty.

"Oh that's okay," Mona said, waving them off. "Besides I've already had three pieces of pumpkin pie, it's my true favorite."

"I'll have to remember that for Thanksgiving," Ava said with a smile.

Mona squealed and did a whole body wiggle. "I love the holidays! Now come on you have to come dance with me."

She grabbed both Nora and Avas’ arms ignoring their whines and groans of protest as she dragged them onto the dance floor.

Ava barely lasted for fifteen minutes, before she was making up an excuse that she was thirsty and headed for the drinks that were set up on the table in the parlor. It was a bit better lit than the rest of the bridge, although not by much. Ava almost tripped over Charlie who was crouched over on the floor with a broom and dustpan picking up shards of glass. Ava looked over the mess and grabbed a rag to help whipped up the spilled drinks.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, Charlie nodded. “It's just those fancy glasses Zari insisted on using. They just shatter the second they hit the floor."

"Are those part of the decorations?" Ava said looking closer to see the outline of bloody footprints leading out of the room.

"Oh bullocks. It must be from Sara, she said she was gonna go get the vacuum."

"I'm going to go check on her."

There was a heavy trail of blood from mostly side or heel footprints and Ava's worry grew as she followed them over to the bathroom across the hall, rather than to the Med-Bay where Sara should have gone. They stopped at the door to the bathroom and she quickly knocked.

"Hey Sara, it's me honey. Can you open the door?"

The door to the bathroom slid open to reveal Sara on the other side of the bathroom. She was sitting on the edge of the tub with one foot resting on her other knee underneath a towel.

"Thank you Gideon,” Sara said.

Ava stepped into the bathroom and followed the blood trail. When she saw the small pool of blood on the towel, she quickly rushed over, kneeling down next to Sara and taking a look at her foot.

"It's not as bad as it looks,” Sara assured her.

Ava wasn't quite so sure. Sara's whole foot was bloody with thousands of tiny pieces of glass shards embedded across the sole of her foot. Sara grabbed a small piece of glass out of her toe with a pair of tweezers and dropped it into a bowl to her left. Ava grabbed the edge of the towel and tried to lightly press it against the blood that gushed from the now open wound.

"We have to go to the Med-Bay,” Ava said looking up at her.

"No," Sara began to protest.

"Sara," Ava said grabbing her hand and gave it a squeeze. "You're bleeding quite profusely and at this rate, it's going to take at least an hour to get all this glass out."

"That was what I advised the Captain to do as well," Gideon sniped at her.

Sara rolled her eyes at both of them.

"I saw that," Gideon said.

"No, I'd rather do it myself, I'll go to the Med-Bay after I get everything out," Sara said taking out another piece of glass.

Ava just shook her head and looked back down at Sara’s foot. She got up and went over to the cabinet, grabbing another towel and bring it over. Sara switched it out with the drenched bloody towel and Ava took it straight to the trash shoot. Ava knew Sara wouldn't listen to anyone's medical advice but her own. Even if it meant withstanding a significant amount of pain and blood loss.

Ava sat down next to Sara and loosely wrapped up her foot in the new towel as carefully as possible, before pulling one arm under her knees and the other behind Sara’s back and picking her up.

"Ava what the... Put me down," Sara protested wiggling in her arms, but Ava just held onto Sara tighter as Gideon open the door for them.

"Sara, it's not going to kill you to just go to the Med-Bay straight away," Ava said, as she walked down the hall.

Sara let out a long drawn out and dramatic sigh but, she stopped wiggling and put one arm around Ava's neck.

"You don't have to carry me, you know, I can hop."

"I know," Ava said with a smile. "But one must always carry their damsel in distress."

Sara laughed at that and leaning up to kiss Ava’s collarbone, since she couldn't quite reach her lips.

When they reached the Med-Bay Ava set Sara down and snapped the bracelet around her wrist. Gideon quickly got to work on Sara's foot, as the robot arms came out and took multiple pieces a glass out at once. The bleeding hadn’t stopped but, Gideon applied a mist over the wounds and it was slowing down. Ava watched as Sara relaxed back into the chair, before lazily looking over at Ava with an easy smile.

"Gideon? Did you drug Sara?"

"Of course, I gave Captain Lance something for the pain as well as a light sedative that I give to all my difficult patients. It should wear off within a few minutes."

Ava couldn't help but laugh, especially when Sara pouted at her so adorably.

"It's not funny," Sara said.

Ava didn't respond, she just leaned in and kissed Sara, reveling in the fact that she quickly smiled against Ava's lips.

Gideon was quick and efficient, as soon as the robot hands disappeared back into the walls Sara sat up and pulled her foot back to inspect it. All the glass and blood were gone leaving only fresh new pink skin.

"Thank you Gideon," Ava said, briefly looking away from Sara and up to the ceiling. "Ah hem?"

Ava nudged Sara who prodded the new skin of her sole. "Yeah, thanks Gid."

"You’re welcome Captain."

"Ready to go back to the party?" Sara asked looking up at her.

Ava’s face betrayed her with a disgruntled look, she leaned down and rested her elbows and upper body on the chair.

"Not a fan of the party?"

"It’s fun, it’s just not really my thing, but I know it’s your thing, so we can go back for a little while longer."

Sara leaned forward and placed a kiss on Ava’s forehead. "It’s okay, I’m kinda partied out too. It’s not as fun as it was when I was 20."

Ava giggled and got back up, she held out her hand. "Want to go home, watch a movie, and hand out candy to all the cute kids."

Sara grabbed her hand and swung her legs around. She stood up and let Ava pull her in for a kiss, that was soft and sweet as they melted into their lips.

"I’m gonna go grab some candy and some wine and I’ll meet you back at the house," Sara said smoothing out the lapel of Ava’s suit.

"After you put on shoes!" Ava insisted.

"Of course."

Sara smiled and kissed Ava again, before untangling herself from Ava’s arms. She walked out the door, but not before she stopped, she held onto the door frame and winked at her. Teasing Ava with a shake of her tutu-clad butt before she disappeared.

Ava let out a breath as the heat rose in her cheeks and programed the Time Courier that was around her wrist. She opened a portal and stepped into the dark living room. She pulled out her phone and used it to turn on the lamp lights and start the fire. She ran upstairs and stripped out of her suit costume, and into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Ava was relieved to be able to wipe away the heavy makeup and went back downstairs.

After grabbing two wine glasses and pulling up Beetlejuice on the tv, she heard the sound of the portal opening behind her and turned to see Sara walking in. She had traded her corset for a skeleton shit, but kept the tutu and tights, and had also wiped her face clean. Sara held up the bottle of wine and a bowl of candy that she placed on the table in the hall, then flicked on the porch light and walked back over to her. Ava reached out her arms and Sara ran up to her, Ava picked her up with ease as Sara wrapped her legs around her waist.

Sara giggled as Ava sat down on the couch with Sara in her lap and relaxed back into the cushions. Sara leaned forward and poured them each a glass of wine as Ava started the movie. They both settled in as the movie started and Ava couldn’t help but sigh in content.

"This is nice, Thank you," Ava said looking down and Sara. Sometimes she was so overwhelmed by how much she loved this woman. She felt like she was floating on cloud nine when Sara smiled at her.

Which she did, Sara smiled and kissed her lips. "I’m happy anywhere you are."

Ava kissed her again and they settled in to watch the movie. However, the quiet didn’t last long as the doorbell rang.

Sara eagerly jumped up and ran to the door with Ava trailing behind her. She leaned against the wall as she watched Sara open the door and great the kids, giving them each a handful of candy and complemented their costumes. This, a quite domestic holiday with Sara, this was perfect.

[sassycassie-s-series]

All My Fault 9

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Damian Wayne/Batman

Rating: PG-11 (minor sparring---nothing too violent)

Notes: (Masterlist) Tim’s the genius of the family for a reason...

Tag List (Open): @batboys-and-other-messes @nanna-the-batmum @probsjosh @welovegroot

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8

^^^^^

The rest of the family—except Cass who was still out of town—found me and Damian in the parlor hours later, still going over dresses with Damian’s arm still around my shoulders. We’d narrowed down the designs to my top five and were going through color options, Damian coloring in the line-art of his designs with his tablet.

“—can’t wear a white dress!” I was saying when Bruce and Tim stuck their heads in. “It’s a gala, not my wedding! What happens if someone spills red wine on me? Plus white’s just… no. I can do cream or gray or silver but not white. Not for something like this.”

“Hey guys,” Tim greeted.

“Oh hey! How was the meeting?” I asked.

“Boring. So… Is something… going on?”

“Hmm? No. We’re just going over design and color options for my outfit for the charity ball.”

“Oh. Huh. That’s not what I meant. What’s with the arm?”

“She couldn’t see as well with my arm in the way, so I got it out of the way,” Damian said distractedly, not looking up from where he was coloring in a ballgown with a gray shade that he added some sparkle brush to, scribbling, “silver” off to the side in the same color.

“Oh. Okay. Right,” Tim said, ducking out of the room.

“Afternoon,” Bruce said before also ducking out and shutting the door behind him. Damian and I glanced at each other with lowered eyebrows. I shrugged and went back to looking at his tablet.

“Okay, I like this one, but I don’t really think a ballgown should be silver, you know? Like, wearing silver would make me look like… Cinderella or something,” I said as though Tim and Bruce hadn’t interrupted.

^^^^^

Tim pointed through the door where Damian and Cloudy were still talking. “We gonna talk about something going on between them?” he asked quietly.

Bruce turned his head to look at the door, listened to his ward say something about Cinderella to his son, and then turned to look back at his third-eldest son. He paused for a moment, putting his thoughts into words. “Nothing to talk about,” he said. “Nora wasn’t blushing at any point. She can’t lie very well. If there was something about their relationship that they were hiding from us, she’d blush when she tried to hide it.”

Tim glanced between his adoptive dad and the doorway where his little brother and now-younger sister-figure were talking about colors on evening gowns the same way most people talked about the weather.

He shrugged. “Okay. I just didn’t know if the arm-around-the-shoulder thing had any extra implications,” he remarked before strolling off for his room to change out of his suit.

Bruce went down to the Batcave.

^^^^^

“—absolutely certain? We can have all five of them made and then you can wear them to other events,” Damian said.

“And overwork some poor seamstresses before a rather short deadline? I don’t think so,” I said. “I'm fine just having one made. And I think I want them to make this one.” I tapped the one I liked the best on his screen—making the cursor flare and then vanish. “Although…” I pinched the corner of Damian’s tablet and tugged it. “May I?” I asked.

“What are you doing?”

“Color change,” I said. Damian passed me the tablet without resistance. “Thanks,” I added. I dug through the tablet, dropped something into his Photoshop, used the eye-dropper to select a color, deleted the thing I’d added, and colored in the dress. I passed the tablet back to Damian and leaned against his side again so I could still see. “Better?”

He scrunched his eyebrows. “Wwwhy did you choose that color?” he wondered.

I shrugged. “I have my reasons,” I said. “Okay. I’ve been sitting down way too long.” I patted his chest and pushed myself to my feet. “I'm gonna go box or bench or something. Wanna join?”

Damian shrugged. “Sure. Let me go change. Now that Drake’s back maybe he’ll let us spar against him and get used to the new inverted height difference.”

I smirked. “That’d be fun.” I swung around the doorframe to the parlor on one arm and went jogging for my room to put on my workout clothes.

The reason I colored the dress the one I chose? The reason I didn’t tell him?

It was the same color as his eyes.

Figured if I didn’t want to match his black tie, I might as well match his eyes.

Plus, even though my eyes were brown, when a bright light shone into them, a greenish ring around the outside edge could be seen. Wearing green sometimes made that ring easier to see.

I changed fast, pulled my hair back into a tight ponytail, and went off for the Batcave, stopping on the way at Tim’s room. “Hey Timbo,” I greeted, poking my head in.

“Hi Cloudy. What’s up?” he replied distractedly.

“Wanna come spar with me and Damian? Work off some of that meeting-boredom energy?”

“That sounds suspiciously like you have an ulterior motive,” Tim joked, spinning around in his desk chair to look at me, arms folding over his chest and raising one of his eyebrows. I sighed dramatically and leaned against his doorframe.

“Okay, you caught me,” I relented sarcastically. Tim smirked at my theatrics. “Damian and I want to get used to fighting with the inverted height difference. Last time we were really in the field together, not counting this past patrol, he was more than half-a-foot shorter than me. Now he’s just over a foot taller than me. Wanna be our opponent?”

Tim thought for a moment. “There was a time I would immediately jump at any chance I could get to beat up that brat,” he remarked. “But now… sure why not? I could blow off some steam.”

I smiled. “Thanks bro,” I said. “Meet you downstairs.”

“See you in a minute.” Tim got off his desk chair as I pulled his door shut so he could change.

I headed downstairs to the cave.

“Ready for this?” Damian asked as he picked up a wooden sword. He had on a thin black tank top and athletic shorts. It looked very attractive on him. Really accented his powerful build. I blinked and shook the thoughts out of my head. Not the time. I cracked my knuckles and stretched.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. It’s been a while since I sparred against Tim,” I said.

“What’s going on?” Bruce asked, looming out of the shadows.

“Oh we’re going to spar against Tim,” I answered.

“Two against one? That doesn’t seem fair,” Bruce said.

“We’ll go a little easy, B,” I said. “We’re mostly just doing it to get used to fighting with our new height difference. I'm used to Damian being shorter than me.”

“I see. Perhaps I should join,” he said.

Damian and I exchanged a glance. “Well we were going to ask Jay when he got back…” I began.

“Father,” Damian also began.

“Don’t you two start telling me I'm too old, now,” Bruce warned, almost jokingly. It was weirder when he used lighter tones than when Damian did. “I already get it enough from Jason and Dick.”

I scoffed. “Pfft! C’mon, B. You know Jason does it in jest,” I said. Bruce cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, okay. You can be on Tim’s team. But if you need to tap out…” I just shrugged. “We won’t blame you.”

“I'm not that old, Nora,” Bruce admonished.

“Well if you think you can handle it I'm not going to tell you otherwise,” I replied, clapping his shoulder and crossing over to the training mat where Damian was swinging his fake sword around, preparing to fight against Tim’s staff.

Tim came running down the stairs moments later. “I'm here!” he exclaimed breathlessly. He wore a T-shirt and athletic shorts, spinning his staff around in a quick warmup. He and I stretched so we wouldn’t tear anything—Damian had already stretched while I’d been changing and doing my hair, apparently. Bruce started to stretch too. “No way! Are you gonna be on my team?” Tim asked him.

“I always am,” Bruce said.

Damian liked his sword, even if Bruce rarely let him use it, Dick had his escrima sticks, Jason his guns and knives, and Tim his staff. I didn’t usually use many weapons. Not even batarangs. Tim had taught me a little staff and Dick a little bit with escrima sticks, but I still usually just used my own two hands as much as I could.

This was going to be interesting.

Damian and I faced off against Tim and Bruce on the training mat. Tim spun his staff around his hands and twirled it around his back. Damian spun his sword to loosen his wrist. “Ready kids?” Bruce asked.

“If you think you can handle it,” I replied, trash-talking with a smile.

“Oh it’s on,” Tim replied playfully. I laughed and cracked my neck.

Tim attacked first.

Damian caught Tim’s staff on his wooden sword while I ducked under a haymaker of Bruce’s, spinning around on the ground to knock one foot out from under him.

Unfortunately, Damian was standing too close with a stance too wide that I wasn’t used to and I caught his ankle too.

He fell on top of me—knocking the wind out of me. He leapt off of me almost immediately and shot to his feet, launching himself at Tim. They fought staff-on-sword, leaving me to deal with the original Batman on my own. Which, even with him being nearly a decade older than the last time I sparred against him, was really hard. I got a few good licks in but mostly took more hits than I dealt.

Until I cried out as a bruise from patrol the night before got hit.

Damian’s hand wrapped around my shoulder and forced me behind him with enough force that he nearly shoved me to the ground had I not been light on my feet and used to the motion—from Jason and Dick. It was a move we used to practice when we wanted to trade opponents.

I caught Tim’s staff in my hands as he swung it toward Damian and yanked, throwing him off balance. He recovered fast, though, and jabbed me in the gut with the end of his staff. “Oof!” I grunted, wheezing and retaliating by getting in close enough to jab him in the solar plexus with my elbow—and leaving myself vulnerable to another attack.

Which swiftly came in the form of a staff across the back. I stumbled away from Tim, coughing and trying to get my breath back.

Damian managed to fend off both Tim and Bruce at the same time for a good fifteen seconds before I reentered the sparring match.

It was easier than I thought, adjusting to his height. I hadn’t fought side-by-side with Bruce much when he was Batman and he was the closest to Damian’s height, but I had fought near Dick and Jason a lot. What was an extra three inches when you’re ducking under an attack from an opponent for your partner behind you to parry it? Adjusting to his weapon use was harder. Jason would sometimes just shoot someone when I ducked out of the way—nonlethal shots, usually, but a bullet was smaller and faster than a wooden sword.

Bruce tapped out first. “Not because he was tired,” though. He said he had “important business” to attend to. Damian, Tim, and I all exchanged a glance as Bruce left the training mat. Tim swung his staff.

Damian caught the end of the staff with one hand before it could strike my shoulder.

Damian and I went a little easy on Tim when he was alone. Not too easy though. Tim was vicious when he needed to be. If we went too easy he’d beat the snot out of both of us. But Damian and I were both also good fighters. If we both gave 100% we could seriously injure him. So we didn’t.

Technically we weren’t training. Just adjusting what we already knew. So we went only a little easy. Easy enough that we wouldn’t hurt Tim much while it was 2-on-1, but giving it enough effort that we didn’t get the snot beat out of us.

That didn’t mean I didn’t get several good whacks from his staff through. Because I did. I’d definitely end up with bruises.

I was the next to tap out. “Okay boys,” I said, panting, sweating, sore, and really tired. “I'm done. I'm gonna go shower.” I gave them a weak thumbs-up and stumbled up the stairs and out of the cave.

Next

[dyketectivecomics]

{{ Fandom asks: F? J (if there is one)? M/N? V (I gotta call you out honestly)? W?~ Y (if you even have one)? Aaaand... Z!

hooooo boy, this is a LOT and I LOVE it, but we’re gonna put it under a cut so i don’t stretch everyone’s dashes ok? ok.

F- longest i’ve been in a fandom would have to be 5 in online years, but like. if we can count talking and making art and playing with other kids who fuckin’ LOVED TT like i did, then easily 13+ yrs. I’ve been in deep man. I’m counting it.

J- Bombshells? Bc i hadn’t even heard of it till tumblr and probably only would’ve stumbled upon it by reading up on it somewhere else otherwise. I know there’s not necessarily a ‘fandom’ just for that line, but dammit! it DESERVES ITS OWN FANDOM UGH

M/N- I’ll pair this one up too bc idk if i strictly have a fav fanartist rn, but i am OVER THE MOON over squiddy’s writing. G O D. i need to read her damirae stuff soon, bc i know i’ll love it, i just don’t like fic for them in general yknow? i’ve got Personal conflict with shipping damirae that i won’t get into here

V- ZIRA THATS NOT FAIR YOU KNOW THE ANSWER. yeah I’m completely incapable of watching something and NOT shipping SOMEONE. i mean, it took a good 20+ issues for me to start shipping cass with other characters in this reading of batgirl but DAMMIT ITS NOT LIKE I WAS PRESENTED WITH MANY OPTIONS BUT STILL AHH

W- 5 charas from 5 fandoms-Raven, TT03 (obvsly) - Zatanna, Bombshells - Oracle, Arkhamverse - Robin/Nightwing, YJ aaaaaaand - Wonder Woman, DCEU. idk, its hard to divide up DC into more particular fandoms sometimes AND YETi just realized i probably could’ve pulled from the arrowverse too shit, can i add Alex Danvers bc I love that funky lil lesbian.

Y-No real ships in the YJ fandom. if I’m being totally honest? like, yeah there’s stuff all around that I’m like ‘sure ok thats cute’ abt (like, i’ve reblogged a little Chalant if i remember right) but???? honestly, YJ is so damn plot heavy & the relationships are given such a surface level treatment overall, its just boring trying to ship while watching. the fandom def supplies more shipping than what the source material offers IMHO

Z- RAMBLE TIME:it still makes me so sad when????? people like but don’t reblog ur work, or reblog and don’t give comments in the tags or on the work or just?????? and i get it I GET IT. sometimes ur just too tired or cant put the energy into giving feedback, sure. i’ve been there plenty of times myself but???? its so fucking AWESOME when someone DOES give feedback and just that little push that little bit of ‘hey, here’s what you made me think!’ its such a damn high. the best feedback i’ve ever received was on a piece that i did for theater that i revamped and shared on FF.net. it only got 4 reviews and THOSE WERE HANDSDOWN THE BEST COMMENTS I EVER RECIEVED they were so thoughtful and reactive and just. i quite writing after that piece for the longest time bc it really made me stop and think abt what i was doing as a writer (i’d done so many crackfics until that one and one Highly Ambitious fix-it fic that never panned out bc it was Hella self indulgent) and just, even now I look back on that piece and wonder if i’ll ever get feedback like that again? rn btwn a couple of y'all i get really awesome comments. but i really want to write something that brings back that feeling for someone yknow? that makes them want to start a conversation about these characters and these ideas and just

ok thats getting to be so damn much and i want to GO AND WRITE AGAIN SO WE”LL STOP THERE AAHHHHHH