#idea for future use then

[harryinramshackle]

"But I am here, if that means anything."

Self ship fic because shame is for COWARDS!! And I am still in can't draw jail so

Content: Rollo Flamme x Self Insert/Yuusona, pre-relationship, implied to be taking place after Book 7, Grim is mentioned a bit good for him, this is my first fic in months so I'm rusty Words: 1.594

The stone walls of the bell tower were cold to the touch at night, a light wind breezing through the cracks like ghosts. It felt haunted, the silence deafening, more so than all the bells ringing at once. Despite the rather chilly atmosphere, it felt more soothing to Rollo than anything else in the world. The cold, the quiet, the stillness— it's all he could ever ask for. Nothing to disturb him, nothing that could cause him the same pain, just plain and comforting nothingness.

Until a certain someone disturbed it.

Rollo's body tensed when he heard footsteps behind him, his once calm and melancholic expression turning dark with his usual scowl. Why would anyone come up there in the middle of the night, he thought. Yes, he was, but that's because he craved the silence, the coldness, the chance to stay still with nothing happening around him. Who else would wish for something like that?

The footsteps stopped. Rollo waited, wondering if the person who had interrupted his blissful silence had even noticed him leaning on the edge of the tower's balcony. His wishful thinking was quickly proven wrong when he heard the voice of the mysterious intruder calling out to him.

"So that's where you've been." the familiar voice of the magicless Night Raven College student and supposed Ramshackle Prefect, Harry, who had taken permission to visit Nobel Bell College— which of course, included his furry companion Grim— with the excuse of learning more about Fluer City as a person from another world, more than what the events of the Social a few months ago provided.

"What are you doing here? It's midnight, you should be in bed." Rollo remarked, voice calm, but a hint of irritation slipped through. Although Harry was not the worst option to bother Rollo— that pesky cat would have been the real nightmare— he still didn't appreciate anyone troubling him unprompted.

"Well, you're also awake, I thought you weren't a hypocrite." Harry noted, and Rollo didn't need to look at him to know the light smirk on the boy's face, he could sense its annoying presence just from the way he spoke.

Harry loved talking back. Or more accurately he enjoyed leaving Rollo speechless, unable to argue, left with nothing to say that would change Harry's mind. Which was completely and utterly annoying, it was annoying when they had their first brief conversation during the festival, and it remained annoying each time the two conversed. And, of course, Harry would ask numerous time that if he was so annoying to Rollo, why did he not try avoiding talking to him?

Rollo never actually answered the question, unless deflection and huffs counted.

All the more amusing to Harry, really.

Rollo didn't entertain him with a retort, frankly he was in no mood to entertain any possible antics Harry may be up to. "If I ask why you've come here, you'll just ask me the same question back instead, yes?" That brought another smirk on Harry's face, as if he was pleased Rollo understood how he operated. He walked closer to the council president— but not too close, almost worried that Rollo will flinch and ran away like a stray animal.

"I just assumed you wanted some peace and quiet, up here's it's perfect for that." Harry responded, a lack of his usual mischief in his voice. Perhaps just his own weariness catching up to him at this late hour.

Rollo hummed, like he was confirming Harry's assumption was correct. He kept his eyes fixed on the distance city below, the wind picking up a bit, but he didn't shiver, even of the only thing he was wearing from his uniform where the plain, black robes that resembled a cassock. The cold air was nothing but common to Rollo by now. His expression grew softer, although he still wasn't fond of Harry bothering him.

The lack of push back puzzled Harry, at least a little bit. Rollo wasn't welcoming him with open arms, but he was also not actively pushing him away either. It was…unusual of him, but also nice. He leaned against the balcony, still keeping his distance.

"Y'know", Harry started "Grim tried to sneak inside the kitchen a while ago, almost set the stove on fire.”

Rollo's frowned again, less intense than before, but didn't respond.

"I tried to cover for him, not wanting trouble, said he got lost. I don't think the staff believe me, but they let it go."

Rollo raised an eyebrow "And you're telling me this, why…?"

Harry chuckled "Don't know… to break the ice, maybe? You're not the easiest person to talk to." his voiced sounded on edge, like he was scared of saying the wrong thing.

The silence stretched uncomfortably.

Harry hesitated, his weight shifting against the balcony's cold stone. The pause was enough for Rollo to catch Harry's posture— tensed shoulders, fidgeting with his hands— he didn't know how to hide the uneasiness like Rollo could. But it wasn't out of annoyance, but something Rollo couldn't figure out— or refused to figure out

"I just…don't know how to talk to you." Harry finally admitted, his eyes fixed on the ground. It didn't sound mocking, or even teasing. He…was being sincere, like the fact genuinely bothered him. It almost caught Rollo off guard. "And I'm probably the last person you'd want to talk to."

"Not the last, at least." Rollo corrected, voice flat, but not harsh. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could think, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe to make sure Harry didn't think he didn't truly hated him, like those mages friends of his. But there was also the question as to why Rollo cared about what Harry thought of him.

Harry's eyes flickered towards Rollo, "Still, I know I'm not the one you wanted. I'm not him."

His words hung in the air like a dead weight. Rollo's whole body stiffened at the sudden mention of him— his chest tightened as unpleasant memories were filling his mind. Making the space between the two feel colder.

It wasn’t just the mention of him that sent a chill through Rollo’s spine— it was the fact that Harry had guessed it. He didn't know how the guilt and grief consumed every aspect of Rollo's life, didn't know how it managed to push him to bring back the Fire Lotuses and do and what he did— or the hopelessness that followed after realising his efforts were in vain. He didn't know, he couldn't.

And yet Harry had struck a nerve anyway.

"But I am here, if that means anything."

Harry's words landed heavier than he had expected. Rollo stood still for a moment, trying to suppress the sharp ache in his chest as his mind spiralled. Harry’s acknowledgement of him, of that part of him, was too much— too soon.

"I-I'm sorry," Harry voice was quiet, yet shaky "I didn't mean to… I just…" he trailed off, his words faltering under the weight of the silence. The tremor in his voice was something Rollo wasn't used to. Yeah he shuttered, but that was just part of his regular speech, but he was always so lighthearted, so unbothered. It was Rollo's first time seeing him so…unsure.

"You're fine." Rollo reassured him, at least tried to. He still hadn't turned to look at Harry, seeing his apologetic expression wouldn't be of any help. It wasn't a perfect response, it sounded harsh, as if he was annoyed, but it meant something. The air felt less suffocating now, but still fragile, as if one wrong word may ruin something that was just beginning to take form. "You don't need to apologise."

"I just…don't understand why you try so much with me. I've hurt your friends, talked down to you. Why are you here, with me now?"

Ah. So that was it. Plain old confusion as to why someone would care enough to reach out to him. Well, Harry probably shouldn't be surprised. Really, who would want to reach out to someone who attempted to eradicate all the magic with power-sucking fire flowers? But it seems like surviving 7 overblots does something to a person, as…insane as it was.

"I suppose I'm…a mystery yet to be solved." Harry teased, a simple attempt to lighten the mood, even if a bit. It seemed successful, ,judging by Rollo's quick laugh disguised as a scoff. "And, well… you seem to not completely hate me, I guessed you could use a friend."

"A friend, huh? And you think you could be that friend?" Rollo finally turned to meet Harry's eyes, his voice felt calm, if a bit playful, as if he was amused by Harry's boldness. Harry smirked, pleased with the shift in Rollo's attitude. "Why not? I'm already here, and you haven't shooed me away yet. Might as well try."

Rollo looked at Harry— really looked at him— for the first time that night. His gaze was steady, but not cold. It looked more…like he was curious, studying Harry, as if he was trying to decide whether he was being serious or playing games. He finally let out a sigh, rubbing his face with his hands, in an attempt to soothe himself a little.

"You're…persistent." Rollo admitted, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Harry tilted his head and grinned "That's a nicer word for annoying, isn't it?"

The corner of Rollo's mouth twitched "Well, I never said annoying, did I?"

"No, you didn't."

Tag List: @ramshacklerumble @thehollowwriter @summerspook @scint1llat3 @skriblee-ksk

@cyanide-latte @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @oya-oya-okay @viperbunnies @jadelover69

@twsted-void @lallopsyou (lmk/dm if you wanna be added)

[nathaniacolver]

i don't think you guys understand the levels of lesbianism in this scene

this 90 caliber electric net is caitlyn's E ability......aka, she's the ONLY champion in league of legends that can use this ability.........thus, the writing decision to have vi, a separate, melee league champion, be the only one in the show that EVER also triggers it (someone informed me that cait does use it during Hellfire), with her bare hands (and against another champion, at that), suggests levels of intimacy and trust that i can't even comprehend

additionally, this isn't the first time caitlyn's given up her gun (aka ALL of her special abilities) for vi, either

oh to have a girlfriend

[storytellering]

I dunno guys, I think he did nothing wrong ever

[uncharted-constellations]

~What i couldve been~

I was just gonna do the adult timeline zelda but im so enchanted by the idea of these two versions of the same character. People always talk about how link would be changed but never zelda.

[starry-bi-sky]

im being hit with The Visions again

the Vision this time is a "homeless danny in gotham" au except its pre-robin Batman again because im on a batdad kick. --------------------

Danny finds a car.

Which-- isn't, like, anything super interesting or impressive. It's Gotham, it's a big city. There's cars on every corner, can't throw a stick without hitting one somewhere. And then setting off the alarm.

But-! It's a car, and it's past midnight-- or he thinks it might be past midnight, it's late enough to be. He doesn't have a watch and he left his phone at Vlad's; asshole put a tracker on it after the last time Danny ran off.

It's been over a month since, it's a new record -- last time it took just over two weeks for Vlad to find him and drag him back to the mansion. This time, Danny ran further. Left the state and everything. See how long it takes Vlad to find him now, hah.

People go missing all the time in Gotham.

Anyways-- there's a car, and it's midnight, and it's parked in an alleyway. Danny would've called it invisible with the way he pretty much trips over it, phasing through the wall of the building beside it and not watching where he's going, but it's not. So he doesn't.

Danny runs into the hood and nearly faceplants right into the darn thing with an 'oomph', hands catching himself on the metal as a flash of irritation flashes hot through his gut. It doesn't hurt or anything, but getting the wind knocked out of you sucks always, and he's tired and hungry, and as a result not in the best state of mind.

He's just about to sink his foot into the side of the wheel -- it wouldn't do anything, he's not that big of an asshole, but it's the principle -- when he stops.

Danny pauses.

He takes a step back, holding his hands out 'n' everything, and examines the car. He squints, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness, considering the closest streetlight is twenty feet that way and positioned in a way that none of the light is hitting it.

Danny would not call himself a car guy. He doesn't think he counts, considering his size and lack of everything. But, but, he knows his way around a few cars, and he had an old obsession with older models when he was little that kinda petered out of existence after his accident. Had a bunch of little car models sitting on one of his shelves back in Amity, and Dad offered to get his hands on an old car for the two of them to fix up together so it'd be ready for Danny when he got his license.

...Anyways.

Point is: Danny can appreciate an old car, and this car has an older -- albeit obviously modified, if the matte paneling and plated wheels meant anything -- look to it. That kind of flat top went out of style years ago, and it's got this kinda rectangular look Danny doesn't see often these days on modern cars.

Other than the electrical cars, but he doesn't think those count. That's boxy, not rectangular.

Danny frowns, tilts his hands down, and leans back further as if that will let him get a better look at this thing. "...What model is this?" He mutters, it's hard to tell in this lighting.

Wait, he should see if there's anyone in the car. It's not running or anything, and nobody's come out to yell at him -- or shoot him -- but, still. People are crazy in Gotham, crazier than they've ever been in Amity. The last thing he needs to do is piss off some guy from the mob.

Danny peers into the window and-- there's no window, okay. Well, no window, and no driver. Some idiot left their car unprotected and without windows, in Gotham?

He pulls on the door handle just to be annoying -- it doesn't budge. Okay, maybe not that stupid. Especially since Danny didn't even see it until he was quite literally running into it.

So. Not that stupid.

Danny looks around warily, pulling his hoodie around him tighter, and then starts circling the car slowly. Like a vulture. No license plate; shocker. Hear how shocked he is? Clutching his pearls right now.

"Reinforced bumper. Cool." he says, er- whispers, really, quiet enough that it doesn't even echo. Danny squats in front of the car and runs his hands over the -- what, should he even call this a bumper? It's bigger than his head, and it's covering the grille. He picks at these... things on the side that remind him of leather straps. Probably to keep this bumper up? Like a ratchet strap?

Danny leans back until his butt hits the ground and he can sit back properly, propping himself up on his hands -- maybe not a good idea. There's probably broken glass somewhere here and he doesn't wanna pick shards out of his palms, again. It's like popping the world's most annoying zit depending on if it gets under the skin.

(He could always just phase them out, but the picking gives him something to do. It doesn't hurt that much.)

Eh. It'll be fine.

With one knee propped up, Danny looks the front up and down, and furrows his brows. The style kinda reminds him of a dodger, especially with the placement and style of the headlights. He plants his hands on the concrete -- hissing when he feels something cut into his palms, ow, there's that glass he was talking about -- and leans down to look under the car.

Hm, nothing jutting out that much. Looks pretty normal. Good space between the bottom and the ground.

He gets up and circles the side again, brushing whatever pebbles or glass that could've stuck into his skin off. He's really curious about where the owner got matte plating for it, or if it's just a wrap. The silhouette's definitely sixties or seventies; too angular for the eighties and fifties.

...There's no one here, Danny looks around again just to make sure, cranes his ears to catch anything. Nope, just the typical quiet rumbling of Gotham's underbelly. It kinda reminds him of Amity, or-- no. No, it reminds him of the quiet groan of the Zone.

That's far more comforting, he thinks. Danny's never really liked Amity all that much.

Back to the car: there's no one around, so Danny folds his arms against the side of the door and sticks his head inside the window. No keys in the ignition, should've figured.

Not like Danny was planning on stealing the car anyways -- anyone capable of modifying a car into this kinda beast -- or paying someone to modify -- was not someone he wanted to piss off. Danny's an orphan, not stupid.

Ignore the fact that he's got his head stuck through the window. The interior isn't anything interesting, but the seats are made of leather, which is nice. Must be a pain in the summer or winter, but leather is cool, and gets stains out better than cloth.

No stick shift though, he's a little disappointed.

Danny presses his mouth into a line and then slants it, humming in the back of his throat. Honestly, he's kinda tempted to crawl in and go to sleep. The leather seats look really inviting, and he's been sleeping on the ground or on park benches for weeks, and the car is really well hidden. No need to worry about being kidnapped.

But, it still belongs to someone. And they're probably using it for something shady. They'll come back for it eventually, so he should get this gawking over with anyways.

And, and-- and. He wants to get a look at that fucking engine. 'Cause holy shit!

Danny pulls his head out of the window and half-dances over to the back, his hand curling around one of the bars as a grin spreads across his face. Now, Danny hates Christmas, but this, this is like it came early and good for once.

"You could smuggle moonshine with this thing," Danny says to himself, grinning ear to ear and running his hands over the edge of the metal. The car is too conspicuous for backroads driving, but the engine, wow. What a thing of beauty.

One of Auntie's friends would probably know what engine it is -- or what type of engine it's based off of, it could very well be a bunch of different engines frankenstein'd together. Danny doesn't recognize it.

Which means it could be illegal. Again, what a shocker. In Gotham? He's clutching his pearls.

Fully satisfied with himself, Danny dances around to the front again and holds his hands out. He makes an 'L' with both hands and shuts one eye, getting the car within the frame of his fingers like he's about to take a picture.

"I rate you," Danny makes a camera shutter sound and mimics taking a photo, "one cool fuckin' car."

"Thank you."

Danny doesn't scream. He does not. He's taught himself better since ghosts started popping up in Amity, and honestly he deserves some credit for that considering they only started popping up over half a year ago.

He does, however, gasp. And he gasps hard, the type that has a high chance of giving you the hiccups afterwards; the painful, chest-thumping kind. Danny slams both hands over his mouth and stumbles backwards, eyes wide and his heart kicking into the fifth gear in his ears.

Bleeding out from the shadows is a man entirely drenched in black, Danny can hardly make out his silhouette and barely catches the white glints of his eyes. Fear like a prey animal burns in his lungs, wild and rabid, Danny has half a mind to bolt.

His ghost sense didn't go off, which might just be the most terrifying thing.

The man doesn't move any more than a step, just enough that Danny can barely see him, but he can feel him watching him. Shit. Shit. He should've never stuck around.

His hands are still over his mouth, Danny, shaking, flutters them open, "How-- h-- how--" he wheezes, "how long have you been standing there?"

[kingzombear]

Ragapom week is over but I still liked the Day 4: Picnic sketch I did so I finished it 😔✌️

She's laying it on pretty thick, Pomni 💘

[constarlations]

🏙️ “Is this your first time in Lumiose? First time in years you say?! Well… a lot HAS changed so why I don’t show you around as a tour guide? There’s TONS to do in the city I hope you’ll love it here” 🎶

[kurikorso]

who died and put you in charge?

[exutrio]

liam talking about fearneorym (+ chetney) at dorym's future wedding is something that can be so personal actually

[accirax]

a collection of DCAS memes so far

[animentality]

am I a boomer for being absolutely disgusted by the idea of using chatgpt for writing, in like, any capacity.

[cryinhell]

So we see how Angel rubs his lower hands together when nervous. And the huskerdust shippers love the idea of Husk kissing Angel's hands and holding them when he does this. But let me introduce you to another idea

Husk seems to hug himself/ hold his arms when he's uncomfortable, nervous, or just doing something he doesn't want to. He also is probably touched starved. Not only is it adorable, but it also gave me the idea of Angel hugging Husk close when he does this. Gently holding his arms so he doesn't feel as uncomfortable. Even wrapping his arms around Husk's shoulders to soothe him.

Husk needs comfort and soothing too, damn it.

[buckyscap]

5 times people think deadpool has a new gf and 1 time they find out how wrong they are vs 5 times wade goes around telling people he's dating the wolverine and 1 time they finally believe him

[storytellering]

"What Sanctus saw was a young man, not in a fighting stance, just eerily staring at him." - Deadly Fortune, Vol. 1

[creating-by-starlight]

Me, every time anyone says anything about "waiting for The One God has for you"/romantic soulmates/etc: Stop, stop, stop! Why are we implying that everyone has a soulmate when everyone does not have a soulmate? God's going to get nasty letters saying "Where's my soulmate? Why haven't I found my soulmate?" and do you want Him to have to deal with that? I don't think so! Stop spouting heresy being so silly!

[bacchuschucklefuck]

my father the ghost