#fight starting portion of dc fandom come get this ass

[thesmollestsnek]

I’ve seen a lot of fics n headcanons where Dick Grayson has adhd, and I see you. But also. Consider: Tim Drake having (undiagnosed) adhd. As a certified adhd bitch myself, I have A Lot to say about this, so more under the cut.

Before we get into it, just a quick disclaimer: pretty much all of my dc knowledge is from fandom osmosis, so. If you see something that’s ooc or contradicts canon no you didn’t. Now with that out of the way, on to the main event!

Okay, so! First of all, let’s start at the very beginning. That’s right, I’m talking about Tim Drake’s “night photography”! Now I’m not gonna say neurotypical kids don’t get up to some dumb ass shit when left unsupervised for long periods of time, because they absolutely do. But. The complete disregard for the many, many dangers a young child alone in Gotham at night would face is still notable. And he doesn’t just ignore danger - he runs straight at it. That shows an impressive lack of impulse control, and inability to factor future consequences into current decisions, both of which are hallmarks of adhd. Plus, hyperfixation kinda… changes? How you perceive things. So if Tim was hyperfixated on getting the perfect shot whenever a major crime/fight happened near him, he may not have processed that he was danger at all during the part most likely to scare a neurotypical child away.

Next, we have the coffee. Yes, I know the coffee thing is super overblown by the fandom and not really supported by canon but ssshshhhhhh my world my rules Tim drinks lots of coffee. Now, this one’s kinda obvious, but caffeine is a stimulant and surprise surprise so are most adhd meds. I have seen firsthand how ppl with undiagnosed adhd will mainline caffeine as a form of self medication, whether they’re aware of it or not. Some people use soda or energy drinks, but coffee’s also a really popular choice for this kinda thing. So not only is it completely plausible for someone with undiagnosed adhd to self medicate by drinking a shitton of coffee, it’s extremely common.

Next up! We have the insomnia. Which, again, I think might be played up a lot in fic? But this is my world and you’re reading in it, so. Tim’s an insomniac. This is one of the less well known symptoms of adhd, but again I speak from firsthand experience when I say it’s a big one. Insomnia is extremely common among ppl with adhd, for a couple reasons. One is time blindness, which I’ll come back to in the next point. But also? It’s just really hard to turn your brain off. And if a large portion of Tim’s brain space is being devoted to casework, guess what. That inability to turn one’s brain off will manifest as late night case solving blitzes. Not to mention that hyperfixation, again, changes the way you perceive things. When I hyperfixate on something I often lose hours at a time, and bodily needs like hunger, tiredness, the bathroom, etc aren’t just unimportant they straight up don’t register. With the number of times I’ve come out of a hyperfocus to realize that I have a dehydration headache that’s been brewing for at least an hour, or have completely skipped a major meal, or desperately need to pee, I can 100% believe Tim not noticing any sleep deprivation symptoms until he’s finished whatever he was working on. And I, again, speak from experience when I say that if you happen to hyperfixate at something at the wrong time of night you will be staying up way later than is reasonable. Which brings me to my next point of…

Time blindness! My most favoritist thing in the whole wide world! (/sarcasm) This shit can and absolutely will fuck up your ability to be a functioning human if you let it. Having no internal clock causes more problems than the obvious losing track of time. It means your appetite is sporadic at best and you could very easily forget to eat. It means your sleep schedule has a tendency to just disintegrate if you don’t keep on it. It means being completely dependent on external clocks to know how long things are/should be taking, even for stupid shit like cooking food or brushing your teeth. It means that if you don’t set an alarm for something there is a very real possibility that something isn’t happening no matter how much you want or need it to. In short, it completely fucks up your ability to care for yourself without a lot of external regimented support. Now, who does that remind you of? Which member of the batfamily is known for neglecting his own health? I may not read many comics but the sheer number of “Tim Drake subsists solely on coffee and spite” jokes on ao3 and tumblr is very telling.

His brains. Tim is very, very smart. Have you ever heard the phrase “twice exceptional?” It describes Tim Drake to a t. Plus, I’m living proof of how you can be both smart of brain and dumb of ass. This may be more of a “my family who just so happens to consist entirely of twice exceptional adhd dumbasses” thing than something most ppl with adhd experience, but. You can be really smart and incredible at putting together complex plans, both ahead of time and on the fly, and still have. No common sense whatsoever. Which seems to be a lot of Tim’s characterization: incredibly smart while simultaneously being a complete dumbass. So make of that what you will.

And most compellingly? I think it’s funny. This kid is brothers with Dick Grayson and best friends with Bart Allen and especially next to those two people would never expect Tim to be the one with the quote unquote “cant sit still disorder”. Yknow what? Let’s take this a step further. Let’s make Bart autistic. (I don’t know enough about the flash family to say how accurate this is but for the sake of the joke let’s say he is). People see Impulse standing next to Red Robin and they think they know which one is adhd and which is autistic and they are Wrong. Tim n Bart are Completely unaware of this but the rest of their team finds it hilarious. There’s probably at least one running joke about it.

[baltears]

ok. didn't like c/rse of the white knight however i am still obsessed with sgms jarley vision

[afni-fics]

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn: Chapter 32: The Mysterious Swordsman

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn: Chapter 32: The Mysterious Swordsmanby C_R_Scott Chapters: 32/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius, Kaidan (Elder Scrolls) 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, Tim Drake-centric, Trope: It sucks to be the chosen one, Trope: Trapped in another world, Trope: Kidnapped by the Call

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Summary:

The sound of someone in pain draws Tim to an abandoned prison like a moth to a flame. What will he find within its depths?

"What?!"

Tim's head jerked up from the page he was writing in his journal. Though it was from a distance and muffled, Tim knew immediately that it was the sound of someone screaming in pain. Quickly, he rose to his feet and moved a few yards away from the tent in the direction of the sound. Then, he just stood and listened. 

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the river to his left and the forest at night everywhere else. Tim closed his eyes and focused all his attention on his hearing. This had to have been the sound that woke him up earlier.

Then there was another scream, and Tim's eyes snapped open. He peered into the darkness and zeroed in on the sight of what looked like some stone ruins cut into the mountainside next to the river on the opposite shore from where he stood. Perhaps once upon a time it had been part of a large structure that had been eroded away by the river. 

Tim quickly moved back to camp and picked up his nearly forgotten quill. He dipped it into the bottle of ink and began to write:

Lucien,

Heard something suspicious coming from the tower just downstream. Sounds like someone being hurt.

Didn't want to wake you, so went to investigate on my own. I'll be back by morning.

Tim

He tore out the page and laid it on his bedroll in the tent after a quick rueful glance at Lucien's peacefully sleeping form. Tim sighed. "Lucien is gonna chew my ass out in the morning," he thought to himself before he snagged his gear and his staff. "Well you know what they say, Tim. Better to ask forgiveness than permission."

---

As Tim made his way down the hill following the river's edge, he felt a familiar rush of adrenaline that had his blood singing as he was clearly hunting for trouble. The only thing that would have made it better would be if he had his grappling gun and could swing between the trees and the cliffs. 

This wasn't the urban jungle of Gotham City, but Tim mused it sure would've been nice to fly even a little bit out here.

Once he got to a spot where the river turned into a waterfall, Tim easily leapt from rock to rock to get to the other side. He paused midway on one of the slick wet boulders as he heard another muffled scream coming from the ruins, though it was definitely louder now.

Carefully and quietly, Tim walked down towards a wooden door he spotted jutting out of the stone walls and slipped inside.

---

The first thing that Tim noticed when he entered the structure was the smell. Much of the stonework in the rotunda he found himself in was covered in thick damp moss. It filled the room with a moist, earthy odor that reminded him of whenever he was forced to investigate one of Poison Ivy's strongholds back home whenever she was out of Arkham. The smell was always so distinct to Tim because nothing as lush and green as Ivy's toxic jungle ever grew in Gotham City naturally. However, just like in Gotham when Ivy was on the prowl, cutting through and spoiling the plants' naturally pleasant aroma was faint, but distinct, metallic tang of freshly spilled blood.

It set Tim's teeth on edge. "Just like home," the thought flickered through his mind before he crept silently around the stairs of the rotunda to make it to the lower floor where light from an open door was pouring through. As he maneuvered through the room, trying to stay close to the darkest parts of the shadows he could find, he paused every now and again. Since entering the building he hadn't heard any more screams. Oddly, he didn't see any signs of any other people either.

"What if it's ghosts? Are ghosts even a thing out here?" he thought suddenly. "Or what about those draugr zombies?" Tim swallowed hard. He had both his bow and his staff with him, but as he approached the open door, he wasn't sure which weapon he should arm himself it. As he heard distinct footsteps and the sound of someone yawning coming from the open door, he quietly pulled the metal quarterstaff from his back.

Once Tim was in the stairwell, he silently maneuvered past the well lit upper portion down to a landing where there were no wall sconces lit with candles. Though he relaxed marginally once he was bathed in shadows again, as Tim watched a living humanoid figure step into view at the far end of the room this stairwell fed into, every fiber of his being tensed.

"Are you shitting me?!" Tim cursed silently in his head as his eyes caught the light from the room below clearly illuminating the shine of gold colored armor. "Of all the god-damned, mother-fucking, rotten-assed luck!" 

Tim grimaced as Lucien's voice from earlier that night echoed in his head. "...promise me that you won't throw yourself into any conflicts with the Thalmor... you have no defense against magic. If you fight them... they will kill you or worse."

"Fuck my life," Tim thought wearily. His staff held at the ready, 

Tim stayed still and silent in the shadows as he watched the armored Thalmor guard sit at the table. It appeared he was eating a meal, though occasionally the activity was interrupted by a distinct yawn. Eventually, Tim's patience was rewarded as the elf finally moved to a different chair that was in a slightly more shadowy side of the table, so he could kick his feet up and appeared to settle in to catch a quick nap.

 As quiet as a whisper, Tim crept down the rest of the stairs and into the room. He was mindful with every step he took closer and closer to the Thalmor guard, until he was right behind his unsuspecting target. The poor elf didn't even realize he was in danger when Tim took his metal quarterstaff and swung it expertly at his head, knocking him clean out of the chair and completely unconscious.

Tim had winced as the guard's metal armor and weapons scraped and clattered against the stone floor and immediately turned his attention to the only other entrance into the room, waiting for the sound to draw reinforcements. After a minute of his heart pounding in his ears, he realized no one was coming and relaxed marginally. "Is there really only one guard here?" Tim thought to himself in confusion. "What's going on?"

Cautiously, Tim glanced around and noticed a small barred sideroom with an open door. Checking it only revealed some old Imperial armor and weapons along with a desk that had a note revealing that this place used to be a prison for the Imperial Legion. Tim crumpled the note in his hand and tossed it back on the table. Then, with his staff in hand, he made his way down to where the prison cells actually were.

---

After descending a few sets of stairs, Tim paused at the entrance to the prison cell area. The smell of freshly spilled blood hung in the air, and he could hear the sound of someone breathing harshly a little further down. There were no signs of any guards that he could see or hear, but the area was fairly well lit, which made him wary. Cautiously, he crept from cover to cover, glancing over each otherwise empty cell until two cells in particular caught his eye and he froze. 

Shackled to a wall on the last prison cell to Tim's left was a human man. He was hanging limply by his wrists, head bowed, and even from a distance, Tim could see deep bloody gashes on his arms and chest as well as the dark bloodstains on both the wall behind him and on the stone floor beneath him. Tim felt his breath catch in his throat. He knew the sight of someone who'd been tortured recently. 

As quickly and quietly as he could, he pulled out his lockpicks and made short work of the cell door. Once inside, he made a beeline straight for the wounded prisoner. "Hey," he whispered once he was close enough. "Can you hear me?" For a moment, Tim thought perhaps he was unconscious from his injuries. But then, the dark haired man with what appeared to be Asian features slowly lifted his head, though his eyes were still closed, grimacing with pain from the motion.

"When I get out of here, I'll kill you all myself..." the prisoner growled venomously. Tim blinked at him owlishly. Though the man appeared Asian, his accent was clearly Nordic. 

"Easy now," Tim whispered reassuringly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help." He reached into his pouch for another lockpick and immediately started working on the first shackle digging into the wrist of the prisoner.

Seemingly startled by Tim's voice and sudden close proximity, the prisoner finally opened his eyes to look at his rescuer. "What? Who are you?" he asked, the hostility bleeding away in favor of confusion.

Tim's fingers paused in their work as his gaze was captured by the prisoner's. "I'm a friend," he assured him before turning his own blue eyes back to the lock he was picking. "The name's Tim."

"You're not with the Thalmor, are you?" The prisoner's tone quickly became more urgent. "Quick! Get me free from here before more come!"

"Working on it," Tim said as he furrowed his brows at the shackle, biting back a curse as one of his picks snapped. Some of the pins in the lock felt like they were stuck, probably due to rust with how damp this place was. "Who are you anyways?" he asked as he rummaged in his pocket for another pick and started the process over.

"Kaidan," the prisoner said wearily. "My name is Kaidan."

Tim swore aloud this time as his second pick snapped. It was a good thing he restocked on picks back in Whiterun. He considered just giving up on lock picking and just bashing the heck out of the thing with his staff, but if there were other Thalmor soldiers around, he didn't want to draw their attention. With an inarticulate grumble, flicked the broken pick off to the side and he fished out another. "So... Kaidan... what's a guy like you doing in a place like this?" 

"The Thalmor invited me to high tea, what do you think?" Kaidan snapped irritably before even that bled away to what appeared to be a bone-deep weariness in his tone. "I dunno. Some Justicars ambushed me outside of Falkreath."

Thankfully, he felt the rusted pin that had been chewing up his picks finally give way. "I'll have you free in just a moment. I've almost got this."

"You're a life saver," Kaidan whispered, his tone radiating relief and gratitude. 

As soon as the lock was cracked, the shackles popped open, dumping their prisoner abruptly. Tim suddenly found himself catching Kaidan before he could hit the unforgiving cell floor. He heard Kaidan gasp in pain, and a quick glance at Kaidan's back had Tim sucking in a quick breath of his own through his teeth. 

The poor man's back had been clearly lashed to pieces. The painful looking gashes crisscrossed Kaidan's back, and while some were scabbed over, the movement from the fall had re-opened others and were oozing blood again. Even in the dim light, he could see a faint dusting of a white granular substance on his skin. Tim lightly brushed his fingertips from one hand through the grainy powder. Against the dark brown leather of his glove, Tim could tell the substance was likely salt. Tim felt a sympathy ache from his own scarred back beneath his leather armor. But at least, from what he could tell, the wounds were fresh and not yet infected.

Tim wished he could just use magic to heal Kaidan, but he just didn't have enough Magicka yet to be able to cast a healing spell on another person. He fished around in his bag and located the largest, strongest healing potion he could find. "Here. Take this. If it doesn't work all the way, I've got a some weaker healing potions too."

As Kaidan knelt there and drank the potion, Tim watched with a fair bit of wonder as the magic in the healing liquid immediately began mending the damage to Kaidan's back, leaving behind nothing but scars. 

"Thank you. I feel much better now." Kaidan said as he gave an experimental stretch. Tim sighed with relief as it became immediately clear that the man didn't seem to be in pain anymore

"Good to hear. Now let's get you out of here." He offered his hand to Kaidan to help him stand.

 Kaidan took the hand and rose to his full height. Tim's eyes widened now that he had had to angle his head slightly upward to meet his gaze. The man seemed to stand at least six feet tall, maybe a bit more, which was about as tall as Tim's adopted father Bruce Wayne. Once up on his feet, Kaidan's intense gaze turned toward a hole in the cell wall that seemed to lead into another part of the prison. Now that he was on his feet, Tim noticed with surprise that Kaidan's eyes were not brown or any other natural color he was used to seeing on normal human people. His irises were red, and they appeared to glow faintly in the darkness. "Wait, there's one more thing. One of the Thalmor got his hands on my sword. I know I've got no right to ask, but I could use your help getting it back."

"Your sword? I guess it's important?"

"This isn't me being sentimental," Kaidan clarified, red eyes seeming to flash with his rising emotion. "They kept asking about it. If it's important to the Thalmor, they shouldn't have it!"

Tim got the feeling that even if he didn't help, Kaidan was going to get that sword back one way or another. He sighed. "Ok. I'll help, but don't do anything rash. Let me see what I can find. Just wait here."

Cautiously, Tim stepped through the hole in the wall and crept deeper into the prison. After making sure the cells on this side of the wall were cleared and there were no guards in sight, Tim moved onward, though he paused at the sight of the stairs. He swallowed hard. The stairwell was narrow and wouldn't allow much room for movement to swing his staff or dodge any attacks if he got cornered there. Silently, he made his way up, and peered around the corner.

Tim almost wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. There was only one black robed Thalmor elf in sight and he appeared to be fast asleep on the bed in that room. Additionally, what looked like an extremely long katana with ornate letters etched onto the blade sat on the desk near the wall he was peering around. It was just within reach, but sat next to a lantern that illuminated everything on the table and chased away the shadows Tim was trying to meld into.

Silent as the grave, Tim slipped around the corner and tried to keep as much of the desk between him and the sleeping Thalmor. Once he was at the desk, he reached over and carefully wrapped his fingers around the sword's grip. 

"Shit!" he silently swore in his head. This sword was heavier than he expected, certainly heavier than any normal katana he's ever held, probably a good four or five pounds minimum. Also, now that Tim had his hand on it, the thing was far longer than he'd originally thought. If he was estimating correctly now, this sword was as long, if not a bit longer, than he was tall. With a grimace and a cold sweat breaking on his brow, Tim realized he wasn't going to be able to move the blade with any silence from a crouched position. He needed leverage and both hands to lift it with any stealth, and for that he needed to stand up and expose himself to more light.

Tim took a breath to steady his nerves. Slowly, his eyes never leaving the sleeping Thalmor, he rose to his full height. He stood there, every muscle tense, for a solid thirty seconds, before he finally made a move to the sword.

He moved slowly, eyes darting between the sword and the Thalmor, as he lowered his hands. His right hand settled on the grip of the sword, and his left hand slid under the blade itself a little further down the length. After licking his lips nervously, Tim turned his entire focus to the sword as he started lifting it upward off the desk. 

Suddenly, there was a motion out of the corner of his eyes from the bed as the Thalmor shifted in his sleep, and Tim froze.

Or at least, he tried to freeze.

The sword was too long and cumbersome for him. The moment he stopped lifting, the heavier end of the blade wanted to dip down naturally due to its weight, threatening to land back onto the wooden table. Tim tried valiantly to compensate the balance with more force on the grip, but he ended up altering the angle of the blade at the same time. To his horror, the tip of the blade caught the hem of a small bag of Septims that had been resting on the opposite end of the table and shifted it to the very edge. With both hands on the sword, he could watch helplessly as the bag slid slowly off the desk and fell to the floor with a solid, coin-filled thud.

The golden eyes of the Thalmor agent on the bed snapped open and captured Tim's startled gaze. Then they narrowed as the air began to crackle around the elf's hands, a smell of ozone rising in the air. 

"Stop right there!" the Thalmor growled as he raised a hand that was crawling with electricity.

Of course Tim moved!

All pretenses of stealth were dropped as he tightened his grip on the sword, hefted it around the corner, and flung it down the stairs where it landed with a clatter before skidding to a stop, crashing against the bars of the prison cell leading to where Kaidan had been held prisoner. Both hands free, Tim leapt down to the prison floor, not bothering with the stairs, and rolled to a crouch. His hand went straight for his quarterstaff, but froze when he saw the massive lightning spell scorching the top of the stairwell where he had been just a moment before. Tendrils of blue-white lightning crawled along the stonework before dissipating. 

It suddenly occurred to Tim that his steel quarterstaff, while useful against most physical combatants, turned him into a walking lightning rod in the face of someone like this Thalmor wizard.

Immediately, he pulled his staff off his back and as soon as the black robed elf came into sight at the top of the stairs, both hands still crackling and eyes lit up with rage, Tim launched it at the elf like a javelin. Not expecting the projectile and with nowhere to dodge in the narrow stairwell, the Thalmor just barely released the lightning spell at Tim before the quarterstaff caught him squarely in the stomach, making him stumble on the stairs.

Tim tried to dodge the spell, but wasn't fast enough to escape the lightning completely. The spell went over his head, but connected with the iron bars of the prison cells behind him. The ball of lightning immediately exploded outward and blue white fingers of electricity arced quickly between the bars and other nearby conductive items within the area, including Tim. Though it was a smaller tendril of electricity that tagged him, it was more than enough to drop him with a sharp cry of pain. 

Every instinct screamed at Tim to move, but he just couldn't. His muscles were seizing and twitching due to the electricity and wouldn't respond to him except to let him know he was in pain. He could see the Thalmor trying to get to his feet, and for a stark moment Tim knew he was done for.

"Lucien was right," he thought to himself with a grimace as he felt his consciousness fading. "I have no defense against a threat like this." As his eyes slid closed, a final thought ran through his mind. "I hope Kaidan got away safely." 

Before he completely lost consciousness, Tim almost swore he heard the sound of a war cry and caught sight of a large shadow rushing in front of him toward the Thalmor, light gleaming off a long silver blade swinging in a wide deadly arc.

---

Tim woke to the taste of a healing potion pooling on his tongue before sliding down his throat. He coughed as the liquid first down the wrong way, choking him slightly. 

"Easy now. Drink slow," a vaguely familiar deep voice said. 

A little more aware now, Tim realized as he was coming to that he was sitting propped against a wall of the prison while Kaidan had a half empty vial of healing potion in one hand. It took a moment as Tim's blurry vision cleared, but he suddenly realized that the man looked very different. Instead of being bare chested, he was now wearing a full suit of ornately crafted steel armor. His reclaimed sword was also resting on his back, as if it always belonged there.

Tim also noticed that there was a heavy smell of blood hanging in the air. 

"What happened?" he asked weakly, even though he had a pretty good idea forming in his head.

Kaidan's expression grew dark. "Son of a bitch had it coming," was all the newly armored man said. Then the angry look in his red eyes softened. He offered Tim the potion vial.

Tim tried not to think about what happened to the Thalmor as he took the vial and drained it slowly, tried not to imagine in vivid detail what Kaidan's ridiculously long sword could do to a man's body in a fit of rage and bloodlust. 

Kaidan was alive.

He was alive.

...At least until he saw Lucien again and he found out what happened.

Lucien might kill him... might lecture him to death when he got back to camp.

All things considered, that wouldn't be a bad way to go, comparatively speaking.

Tim tried to focus on that.

"Thanks for the save," Tim said as he savored the feeling of the potion mending the electrical burns he could feel but not see.

"It's me who ought to thank you. I know you didn't have to help me, and still you put your life at risk facing down that Thalmor as you did."

Kaidan bowed his head and sighed before he continued. "Listen, I owe you my life, and--."

Tim frowned. "Hey now. You don't owe me anythi--"

Kaidan lifted his gaze and caught Tim's firmly. "I'm not a man who's comfortable being in debt." he said with conviction. "And if it weren't for you I'd still be hanging off that wall waiting for the end. If you ever have need of me, I'd be glad to fight alongside you until that debt is repaid."

Tim sat there in silence as he absorbed Kaidan's words. As much as he believed the swordsman owed him nothing, clearly nothing he said would dissuade Kaidan from his own beliefs regarding this "life debt" he now owed him. There was also the fact that, practically speaking, with all the threats out there in the wilds of Skyrim, it probably wasn't a bad thing to have a very well armed and armored tank of a warrior on their side as he and Lucien travelled to High Hrothgar. Finally, he nodded.

"I'd be glad to have you travel with me," Tim said as he offered Kaidan his hand. "Now let's get the fuck out of here."

NOTE: And so we introduce the mysterious swordsman Kaidan into the story as Tim's newest travelling companion. He's a modded follower that can be found here at the Nexus (https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/19075). I'm also using a replacer mod to adjust his appearance slightly (https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/23738).

It took longer than I usually do to post this chapter, but mostly because I was hellbent on not splitting this up into two or three smaller entries this time.

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