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a-sour-nectarine · 2 years

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"Are you eating Father's chocolate?"

Dick glances up from his laptop for a half a second, catalogues Damian's actual mood, then fixes his gaze back down at his archaic-looking messaging window. Criminals are weird, but it had been significantly harder to hack into than Facebook messenger would be, so Dick supposes it has it's charms.

"Yeah, why?"

Damian scoffs. "I did not take you for a thief. Timothy bought that for him last week."

Dick just smiles, mind giddy in the way it always becomes when he is about to divulge valuable Wayne Family Secrets. "Damian, does Bruce like dark chocolate?"

"Of course, it is his sweet of choice."

"Have you ever seen Bruce eating chocolate dark enough to warrant a cacao percentage?"

"I—" Damian stops, blinking twice in a blatant display of unsurety that Dick is proud to be witness of. "No. I never have. Are you telling me—"

Dick cuts him off. "He doesn't like it. Nothing above seventy percent, and this right here?" He waves the bar around for emphasis. "This is eighty-five."

Damian raises an eyebrow. "Why does he not inform Tim?"

"Ah, therein lies the catch. He's afraid that if he tells Tim that, Tim will take it the wrong way. So, he eats a square all cheerfully once, in Tim's line of sight, and gives the rest to me, because while he may not enjoy the taste of dirt, I do."

"So why don't you tell Timothy?"

Dick shrugs. "Free chocolate."

"Buy your own."

"Dami, dami," Dick sighs, "let me teach you something." He breaks off another piece of chocolate with a snap, then halves it and hands one half to his brother. "Free chocolate trumps all other chocolate."

Damian rolls his eyes and sniffs at the candy before popping it in his mouth. His face lights up. "This is delicious. Father is missing out."

Dick nods. "That's the 'free' you're tasting. So, here's my offer. You keep quiet about the fact that B doesn't like super dark chocolate, and I give you half of his unwanted stash."

Damian nods, reaching a hand out to shake, and when he retreats, there are little chocolate fingerprints on the side of Dick's palm. "Deal."

Dick grins. "Nice doing business with you."

#dc #dick grayson #damian wayne #it's giving battinson #ollie writes #batfamily #dark chocolate #drabbles

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olliesneweyes · 12 days

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Arcing sparks [OUTDATED! I've already rewritten it]

(Luca and Alva reunite in Oletus Manor. It goes... Worryingly.)

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The moments that lead to Alva's death were caused by a catastrophic misunderstanding.

Luca found his father's manuscripts the day before. Appalled by the thought Alva was stealing from him, he'd try to work on the invention that he and Alva shared several times without Alva's knowledge, to spite him.

And spite him it did. The two had an argument about it one day. Alva apparently had no idea what Luca meant by "robbing" his father's research, or "blocking" Luca from completing it. Luca simply left to do things away from him.

It was only that night, when Luca was caught working on the machine alone, that Alva knew what it was like to feel robbed. He yelled in anger that Luca was the one stealing, and he charged towards Luca determined to find out what the hell he thought he was doing.

Luca was very startled by this. Panicking, he hit Alva with the parts he was working on in a panic, only realising far too late that those parts were highly electrical. Alva was dead on contact. Luca was somehow spared by the deadliness of the current, only to be arrested the next morning.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

In truth, neither were attempting to steal anything at all. The revived Alva, after many nights spent contemplating the moments leading to his demise, began to wonder if that was the conclusion he should come to.

Luca thought much differently, but not in the way you might imagine.

Prison had taken a harsh toll on Luca's sanity while he was there. Hated by everyone less fortunate than him, and taunted by those who knew what he did, his memories of the events began to twist and warp.

A cacophony of head injuries and the other prisoners' harsh cries of "murderer!" started to make his judgement slip as his memory got more disjointed and fuzzy around the edges. If everyone said he was a murderer, then he had to be one. Simple as that.

Despite how simple it seemed, it was nowhere close to truth. In a mind drenched with guilt, a desperate accident turned into an attack in the heat of the moment. (Luca couldn't have been careless enough with his delicate machinery to hit someone with hundreds of volts on accident, right?)

A misunderstanding between potentially stolen ideas turned into uncertainty if those manuscripts were even his father's at all. (Why would Alva be so confused about what he meant if they were?)

A strong bond between geniuses that turned sour at the last moment turned into the smartest man in the world and his forgetful, impulsive, stupid apprentice. (After all, he can't have been good at all if he can't even remember what they did together properly. What did he do to deserve such a perfect man to mentor him?)

What once was an unfortunate sequence of events was now all his fault. And the guilt suffocated him.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It was years before he and Alva would meet again, now within the halls of Oletus Manor. Alva could recognise the man in front of him as clear as day. But Luca could not do the same back. He barely even remembered his mentor's face. To him, this man was just the Hermit, as he introduced himself.

Something about the Hermit's words strangely calmed the Prisoner. It was like he recalled it from a distant memory, a life he could never come back to. But he couldn't recognise who it was from. The Hermit only gave a soft smile when Luca brought it up.

After a while, The Hermit was allowed into Luca's room. They were surprised to find the sheer amount of devices and gadgets strewn across wall floor and table. The Hermit offered help with Luca's mechanical problems, (since he clearly had a lot of them) with only one type of meagre compensation. To listen to him talk.

And Luca found it strangely easy to talk to this stranger, who felt soothingly familiar in the way they helped him. Almost like a father. Or a teacher. Or a... Mentor? He wasn't sure. But he kept talking, even if the stranger never said their name.

Alva wanted to know what Luca's side of the story was. That was his main goal, after all. But he didn't need it yet. It was enough to see his former apprentice ramble on about anything he wanted. Just so he could pretend things were still alright, for a while. He found himself smiling, several times. Luca smiled back.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It was in those meetings that Alva began to prod. He would never force Luca to tell him what happened, but he asked. And Luca answered. Vaguely at first, but sometimes it'd spiral into a whole rant.

First the Hermit asked about prison, and Luca blabbered about how much he hated when fellow prisoners would treat him like dirt and kick him and yell at him and hit him and— he stopped as he noticed the Hermit quite clearly boiling over with rage, even as they promised that they were angry at how he was treated, not him. The scars that couldn't have been from normal inventing suddenly started to make more sense.

Another day, the Hermit asked about his life before that, and he rattled on about how his mentor and him had been friends despite Luca's struggles, until an "incident" happened and everything fell apart. The man didn't seem surprised when Luca said how much he thought his mentor hated him, but was quite a bit more surprised when he started explaining how great of a man that mentor was. The Hermit joked about not expecting compliments, only to get "you remind me of him! Just... Less intimidating?" Thrown his way. They'd never thought about how much pressure Luca must have been in underneath them.

The day he tried asking about the Invention was the first time Luca cried in front of him. Luca had frozen up when asked to explain, and the words flooded out like a waterfall as he broke down, saying how he couldn't even remember the what damn thing, or how it worked, or what to do, or anything. The Hermit held him, then. Not close, but enough to comfort. They pretended not to hear Luca's quiet cries for his mentor.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

One night, after preparing for this moment the whole week before, the Hermit came into Luca's room with a single request. "Tell me everything you remember about what happened between you and your mentor when he died, and I'll never ask for anything from you again. I promise."

And Luca stares in disbelief for a while, until he bolsters himself enough to speak. He starts slow, reiterating things he's said before. Invention, Mentor, everything was okay, then a problem arose.

He found manuscripts that he believed belonged to his father. He'd never seen them, so he thought Alva had been hiding them intentionally to steal from them.

[Alva didn't even think of that at the time, though he's wondered about it many times after he died, of course. But Luca should know they belonged to his father. His name was plastered everywhere on them.]

After he found them, he explains there was an argument where he was harsh, too harsh, and ran off to where the invention lay in order to calm down.

[The argument part was correct, but he wasn't harsh. He was just confusing, and didn't explain. The entire last part was wrong, however. He'd done several other things before that.]

He tells about how his mentor had walked in, and in a seething fit of rage for what had happened he'd picked up the tools he was using and— it was an accident. He swears it was an accident.

[Alva had barged in, not walked. And the replay of that fateful moment that's forever stuck on loop in his brain shows Luca startled, not angry. But whether or not it was an accident doesn't matter right now.

Because the man he took under his wing for all these years is crumpled on the floor under the weight of his breathless confessions.]

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Luca clings to the man at the first offer, feeling himself shatter into tiny pieces. This man should hate him for all he's done. Do what the others did back then, hurt him, condemn him, kill him too! But the man doesn't. Luca doesn't realise he's not the only one crying as he begs. For forgiveness, for pain, for hatred, for this to stop, for— for Alva.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Luca knows, somewhere, that his mentor is here to hold him. But that somewhere likely isn't part of his conscious mind. But Alva hears his name, over and over again, as Luca collapses into him. He doesn't know if Luca can even recognise his response, but he calls back anyway

"Luca, it's me. I'm here. You're okay. You're okay..."

Even as Luca tries to fight against a sea of emotions, that voice he now recognises makes him fracture more. He doesn't let go, even as he drowns in it. Even when he passes out.

Alva doesn't know what to do. But it'll start with an apology. His own apology, not Luca's broken one. Maybe it'll be like old times. Maybe it'll be better.

They'll be okay. And that's a promise he can keep.

#idv #identity v #alva lorenz #luca balsa #fanfiction #luca x alva shippers dni #they are father and adopted son to me #ollie writes

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oleander-neruim · 28 days

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Alrighty everyone so here's what's going to be my "Master Post" for my new brainroting AU.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Welcome to "A Myth's Voyage AU"

Essentially this is a Pirates SMP & Empires SMP x Epic The Musical AU. It follows a loose Canon of Pirates, the storyline of Epic, and nonesense and shenanigans thrown into the mix.

~•~•Behold our lovely Cast & Crew•~•~

『•Fully Established/Solidified•』

• Sausage Mythos as Odysseus 「#Odysseus!Sausage」

• Joel Beans as Penelope 「#Penelope!Joel」

• Hermes Mythos-Beans as Telemachus 「#Telemachus!Hermes」

• Will Renais as Polites 「#Polites!Will」

• Kuervo Fang as Eurylochus 「#Eurylochus!Kuervo」

• Kyle Eef as Permides 「#Permides!Kyle」

• Red D. Doons as Elpenor 「#Elpenor!Redd」

• Aeor as Zeus 「#Zeus!Aeor」

• Exor as Athena 「#Athena!Exor」

• Codfather Jimmy as Polyphemus 「#Polyphemus!Jimmy」

• Ocean Queen Lizzie as Poseidon 「#Poseidon!Lizzie」

• Pearl Moon as Aeolus 「#Aeolus!Pearl」

• Fwhip Grim as Hermes 「#Hermes!Fwhip」

• Gemini Tay Grim as Circe 「#Circe!Gem」

『•Likely Established/Not Featured Yet•』

• Acho Denholm as Tiresias 「#Tiresias!Acho」

• Oli Orion as Apollo 「#Apollo!Oli」

• Pixlriffs as Hephaestus 「#Hephaestus!Pix」

• Katherine Elizabeth as Aphrodite 「#Aphrodite!Katherine」

• Shrub Berry as Ares 「#Ares!Shrub」

• Joey Graceffa as Hera 「#Hera!Joey」

• Scott Major as Calypso 「#Calypso!Scott」

• Owen Orange as Antinous 「#Antinous!Owen」

〔Relevant Tags〕

• #AMyth'sVoyageAU -> Main tag for the AU

• #VoyageQueries -> Tag for questions about the AU

• #VoyageTapestries -> Tag for art related to the AU

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I'm not sure what all should be included here honestly but I can add on as we go.

Some names may end up being placeholders if I think of something better but this is what we're working with right now.

My ask box is always open for those who have curiosities or perhaps scene requests

/nudgenudge/

Enjoy your time & enjoy the story

#here we go nerds #empires smp #pirates smp #epic the musical #A Myth's Voyage AU #mcyt #Master Post #ollie writes #i gotta clear up my main tags on this blog #welcome to the start of the madness #i'll also be noting people with “ e![Character]” to shorthand some of this all so #have fun #🗺#also note Scott Denholm & Scott Major are in fact two seperate entities in this AU so. more fun

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olliexwrites · 7 months

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WRITEBLR INTRODUCTION

Hello, everyone!! I meant to do this sooner, but I'm finally making my writeblr sideblog!

Ollie | 20 | he/xe/they | demifluid transmasc

Favorite genres are dark fantasy, romance, fantasy in general, mystery, etc.

I tend to make most if not all of my characters LGBTQ+ in some way just because I am. Same with giving them disabilities lol.

current wips under cut...

CURRENT WIPS:

a grove of silver leaves ->

genres: fantasy, adventure

themes: the struggle for independence, learning to live without someone, overcoming and/or living with disability, etc.

cws: death, possession, suicide, general violence, ableism, cults, abuse, etc.

wip description:

lindenbaum has always been different from her fellow witch; always falling ill, constantly being taken care of, and feeling weaker than the rest. however, when tragedy strikes her home and her body can no longer support her as it once had, she discovers a dark secret that her entire clan had kept out of sight, and learns that everything she was taught as a child isn't as black and white as she thinks it is.

main characters:

lindenbaum -- protagonist. she/her. aroace + bi. disabled from the waist down partway into the story. has a temper and is tired of being lied to.

lector -- deuteragonist. he/him. exiled doctor who's willing to help lindenbaum on her journey. scary when angered. rumored to be evil, but is actually sweet.

stella -- she/her. russian. sought out lector alongside her partner wistaria for an unknown reason. reluctantly travels alongside the others.

wistaria -- agender. they/them. blind in one eye and eventually gains a prosthetic arm. stella's partner (both romantically and in crime). very pessimistic but a softie on the inside.

raymond -- trans. he/him. a blind medic who has a security cat. leaves his home behind so he can be free from its bindings and joins the main group partway through their journey.

...

vividium ->

genres: fantasy, adventure

themes: tba

cws: tba

wip description:

vampire albain discovers that the seven realms need his help when he's accidentally sucked through a mirror portal. more tba.

main characters:

albain miriam -- protagonist. vampire. 23. gay. selfish and easily angered. learns to be nicer later.

sycamore -- eventual romantic partner of albain. human. 25. bisexual. nice and friendly. got sucked through a mirror portal on accident like albain did.

life / cynthia -- ageless. she/her. other self of death / dahlia. blind and mute. in exchange, can hear and smell just fine.

death / dahlia -- ageless. she/her. other self of life / cynthia. deaf and can't smell. in exchange, can see and speak just fine.

black / kuro -- he/him. 16. other self / brother of white / shiro.

white / shiro -- he/him. 16. other self / brother of black / kuro.

#writeblr #writeblr intro #writeblr introduction #ollie writes #ollie speaks #vividium tag #silver leaves tag

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stoportotouch · 5 months

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i must share my recent Silly Thought Process about the thing i'm writing. which was essentially "god this is so bad. all the characters in this fic seem to do is bang in different places. who wants that in a... wait that's like. one of the key things that people want to read fic for." funniest imaginable crisis averted in the funniest way imaginable.

#ollie considers #ollie writes

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combeauferre · 9 months

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speak in words you've picked up as you walked through life alone

les miserables, rated t, 6.6k words

after months of watching Courfeyrac isolate himself while Enjolras and Combeferre struggle to make things right, Jehan takes things into his own hands.

"you don't sing when you're unhappy, and the house has been silent for four months"

read on ao3

here is my @drinkwithme-exchange fic on ao3! for @alwaysforetells i hope you enjoy!!

#ollie writes #les mis #les amis de l'abc #courfeyrac #jehan #jean prouvaire #courf/jehan #courfeyrac/jehan #fanfiction #fanfic #ollie has a life #i will attach the fic to this post properly when i have access to a laptop #enjoy!!#drinkwithme2023

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bucksbirthmark · 1 year

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we have time

It’s getting easier, right?

Must be. He just can’t properly remember how bad it was before. How he used to not even notice the catastrophizing, let alone try to stop it. How he used to berate himself for every little mistake, the voice in his head sounding so much like mother’s, she could’ve been in the room with him.

How he used to hold back from finding his way to the Diazes’ any time he felt lonely. He’s still working on not feeling guilty, like an intrusion, a burden. But at least he goes. Eddie would, truthfully, be more upset to find out Buck had wanted to come and didn’t than he would be to hear the key in the lock, the quiet “Hello” at the door. He’s still working on the “I’m safe here. I’m wanted here. I deserve a safe place where I’m loved unconditionally.” But it’s getting easier.

Right?

Buck makes his way to the kitchen, noting the soft sounds of what must be a phone call with his new middle school friends coming from Christopher’s room. Eddie is humming at the sink, tackling the evening’s dishes.

“Hey.”

Eddie turns and hits him with one of his most beautiful, startling, life-giving smiles.

Buck can’t always remember how hard it used to be for himself, but he definitely remembers how hard it used to be to get Eddie to smile. Not long ago, Buck would’ve given his good leg just to see a smirk, a fraction of the sunshine directed at him now. Now, all he had to do was show up.

“Hey.” Eddie shuts off the tap. “Thought when you didn’t show up before dinner, I might not see you tonight.”

He expected him. Eddie knew he would want to be here tonight. Or maybe Buck is just here nearly every night these days.

“Sorry, I -“

“For what? Not coming for dinner or coming by now?” Eddie asks, cutting off Buck’s spiral at its knees.

“Um-“

“Doesn’t matter. I’m glad you’re here.” He’s still smiling. And Buck is weak. So, maybe, just maybe he believes it.

“I’m glad too.”

He’s not sure when they got so close, when he walked the length of the kitchen to meet Eddie at the sink, but Buck finds himself leaning in to Eddie’s orbit, pulled by the gravity that brings him here each night. Like a string that goes taut whenever they get too far apart. Apparently, too far is whatever the distance is between Eddie’s house and Buck’s loft.

Eddie is Buck’s safe place.

“I always want you here.” Eddie is whispering now.

I always want you here. I want you here always.

“Whenever you’re ready, we’re waiting.” Not impatient, not frustrated. Just soft and kind and safe.

“I just need a little more time, I think.” Buck doesn’t want to rush this. Jump in before he’s ready. Like he’s done with too many other things. This - Eddie and Christopher - is too important. He can’t ruin it. “A little more time to- To trust this. Not you,” Buck swallows hard. “To trust myself. Me.”

“I know.” The look in Eddie’s eyes says everything he’s holding back. Giving Buck the space and time he’s asking for. But reminding him what’s waiting on the other side of that time. “Like I said. Whenever you’re ready. And not a second before.”

“It’s getting easier.”

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 on fox #911 fic #buck buckley #evan buck buckely #edmundo diaz #christopher diaz #i consume so much buddie fic #i’ve been so scared to write them #idk have mercy on me #ollie writes

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olive2read · 1 year

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Starscream ground his boot into Soundwave, the sharp heel strut gouging a dent in his plating, and Soundwave couldn’t prevent a small burst of static from escaping his vocaliser. Laserbeak would normally be perched in that spot and, without her, his chest plate was so much more sensitive to the pressure the Seeker was exerting. It didn’t feel good, exactly, but it felt right, and necessary.

Starscream grinned down at him and repeated the motion, his optics flaring brightly as Soundwave emitted another crackle of static. His boot fit so perfectly in Soundwave’s anterior cavity, nestled between the attachment points of Laserbeak’s harness. It felt as though his spark had moulded his frame with this precise scenario in mind. The thought of that—that he was right where he was meant to be, his root mode being put to the best possible use—froze Soundwave’s logic processors and pressurised his spike. The dull clank against Soundwave’s panel brought a wicked gleam to Starscream’s optics and he pressed his boot down harder still.

#ollie writes #wip #sunday snippet #transformers #tfp #tfp starscream #tfp soundwave #soundscream #boot kink

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ollieofthebeholder · 5 months

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Last Line Game

I was tagged by @blasphemous-lies-and-deceit - thanks, love! 🖤🩶🤍💜

It is, of course, NaNo season, so the last line I wrote is in my NaNo novel, not in my TMA fic, but:

"Which one is it?" he asked.

Tagging @thehappyfangirl and anyone else who might want to do this!

#tag games for ts #ollie writes #life liberty and the all-day breakfast menu

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viisportsresort · 1 year

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I went to lunch with my grandmother.

We went to lunch because just days earlier we ran into each other in the grocery store and started chatting like we hadn't caught up in years, when in reality I had gone to dinner at her house just the previous Sunday.

So I decided that we had to change that.

We went to lunch at a Noodles and Co. She got Pad Thai, I got macaroni and cheese with grilled chicken because it scratches the part of my brain that wishes to still be a child. We talked about mortality and immortality, and about the intentions of a loving God. We were served by a teenager with cavatappi earring made from the dried pasta they had handpicked out of the back of the restaurant.

They were singing while we were eating, and my grandmother gave me an odd look, like we were in on a joke, and it occurred to me that where I saw this whimsical child who wore pasta earring to connect with customers and sang with a high and tinkling voice as they went about their job, my grandmother saw a person who hung food on their ears and sang loudly while at work.

To me, they were beautiful. To my grandmother, they were strange.

And in the end? Neither of our opinions mattered.

#ollie writes #poetry #prose #writing #what an odd realization

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stonedregulus · 1 year

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wip game

Thanks @edenofeddie for the tag 💖

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it!

And then tag as many people as you have wips. I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? Dnd campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!

It Doesn't Change Anything

Let's Break All Our Plans[Jegulus]{Ghost!Reg Fest}

Rose Colored Themes to Our Broken Dreams[Rosekiller]{Professional Dancers AU}

Tell Me Pretty Lies[Rosestarkillerchaser]{College AU}

There Are No Rules in Hell{Squid Game AU}

There's Still Fire in the Darkness[Harry/Regulus]{Age Gap Fest}

Until You're In My Arms Again (Remember Me) [Ronarry]{Amnesia Trope}<Collab with @greenmegsnoham>

With You I'd Dance In A Storm[Jegulus]{Teen parents AU}

You're Somebody Else[Jegulus & Wolfstar]{Midas Curse AU}<Collab with @siriuslythatbitch>

Can I Be Close to You[Jeddy]{Oneshot}

Can We Always Be This Close (Forever and Ever)[Jegulus]{30 Yr Old Coming Out Story}

Choose Me. Love Me. (Let Me Make You Happy) [Jegulus]{My Best Friend's Wedding AU}

Christmas With The Blacks{OneShot}

Could You Love Me Again[Jegulus]{Age Gap}

Faster Than You Can Say Sabotage[Blairon]{Mother-Son Murder family AU}

My Drug is My Baby[Rosekiller]{Something of Mine Sequel Oneshot}

Rest Your Bones with Me[Jegulus]{Actor AU}

Rotten[Bartylus]{Serial Killer AU Oneshot}

Skin Of My Teeth[Ronarry]{Divergent AU}

Sticking to the Walls[Wolfstarbucks]{Professors & Pregnancy AU}

Sunscreen & Skittles[Jegulus & Rosekiller]{Summer Roadtrip AU}

Take All of Me[Rosestarkillerchaser]{War Oneshot}

The Ghost of You[Rosestarkillerchaser]{Ghost AU Oneshot}

The Price of Your Greed[Ronarry]{Revenge Canon Compliant Oneshot }

We Have Lived And Died Lifetimes Together[Jegulus]{The Darkness Outside Us AU}

Your Mess is Mine[Jegulus]{Banana Train Oneshot for @aqua-myosotis }

Oh my god that’s so many 🙈🙈🙈

No pressure tags: @bythehearts @bluesundaycake @queerregulusablack @heartofspells @danpuff-ao3 @cindle-writes @oneofthesirens @euphemious @greenmegsnoham @siriuslythatbitch @aithusarosekiller @fiendishfyre @slates-neverwrites @anemicc-royalty & else who wants to participate :)

#wip game #tag game #ollie writes #current wip

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a-sour-nectarine · 2 years

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A Guide to Your Stay at Wayne Manor, a continuation

Always knock twice before entering any room, inhabited or not.

Don't go into the morning room if you have somewhere to be, unless you are okay with being late. It is the room between the two staircases in the great hall. Time passes oddly there.

Don't feed the dogs under the table.

Close your bedroom door at night, unless you are okay with intruders. They might not all be friendly.

Always keep hand towels folded over the rack. Don't leave them in disarray. That is incredibly rude.

Don't open any curtains. Ask Alfred, Dick, Cass, or Bruce to. You can close curtains that are already open, however.

Remain quiet when in any library.

The music room is for family only, unless invited.

If you need somewhere quiet, don't try and escape to the roof. It's actually a fairly high-traffic area.

I would try to find your own space, instead. There are many alcoves and nooks for you to occupy, and many balconies that aren't often used.

Don't try and water any plants on your own. Alfred and Jason have a routine, and you wouldn't want to mess with it.

Do not, under any circumstances, play the harpsichord that sits in the reception room.

The guest quarters are hard to get to on purpose. There is a not-incredibly-well-hidden door at the end of the hall. It leads to the balcony that circles above the great hall. Only use that door if a resident showed you it. It is in poor manner to make yourself at home in the secrets of a home not your own.

The gym is for communal use. Treat it like you would a public gym.

Do not venture into the servants' wing.

Do not dally in the hall between the dining room and the kitchen. There is very little reason for you to be there in the first place. If you are looking for access to the smoking room, I would recommend you go through the old billiards parlor. Or just go outside. Look into finding one of those balconies I mentioned before.

Keep the dogs out of the bathrooms. And the cats, if you can.

Do not smoke in the conservatory.

There is not much you will find yourself needing to go to the third floor for, but if you do find yourself that far above ground, step quietly.

#how to survive your stay at wayne manor #dc #talkin' shop #ollie writes #batfamily #wayne manor #batman #gotham

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olliesneweyes · 5 days

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Please comfort me, angels divine (1.7k words)

In which Andrew is not very mentally healthy.

(This fic is about Andrew but the pov is on Norton and Luca! Not intended as a ship fic but could be seen that way)

The otherwise-silent manor hall was filled with the sound of clicking boots. The boots in question belonged to a certain Norton Campbell, who had chosen this hall specifically to wander down because he needed to have a talk with someone.

Now, saying that, he probably shouldn't be walking towards said someone's door with a blood-stained monocle clasped in his hand. But by the time he'd thought about that he was already halfway to the door, and he figured he might as well continue.

The monocle used to (and technically still does) belong to Orpheus. Oh how he hated Orpheus right now. But he'd already gotten his revenge in, so his internal fire happened to just be hot coals at the moment.

“Room 3-0-1” was written on one of two plaques on the door in front of him. The other read “Andrew Kreiss”. This was the right room, certainly, though Norton still hesitates.

Andrew's been locked inside his room since… Well, it was Orpheus who started it.

That damned man had always been a gossiper. A (very annoying) storyteller by nature, he liked to spin tales about the other manor residents. Everyone knew these rumours were most likely false, and yet they still spread like wildfire.

Sometimes you could tell that people's hearts weren't in it. That they just wanted a fun story to talk about, even at the expense of others. Norton understood that.

But Orpheus decided to go after Andrew one day. God knows how he thought that was a good idea. Andrew worries if you look at him with even a pinprick of hate. People whispering things about him being some kind of monster or changeling when they think he can't hear was clearly torture to him, given how almost immediately after Norton noticed this was happening he'd found Andrew silently crying his eyes out.

The “demon” comments were the worst. Andrew was quite clearly some flavour of religious, and even without understanding what he actually prays to, Norton could tell that phrasing was doing a lot of the damage to his psyche. Norton had tried to do damage control as much as he could. So what if he yanks on their heart and tells them exactly how much Andrew cries at night because of what they said? It's their damn fault for saying it in the first place.

If that wasn't bad enough, Orpheus had happened to make a comment towards Luca. Luca was one of Andrew's closest, if not only friends. He was one of the only things Andrew would go out of his way to defend.

As far as Norton heard, Andrew had seemingly been building up discreet anger all day, but whatever Orpheus said in that moment was enough for him to snap. Before anyone knew what was happening, the normally meek gravekeeper had stood up to shout at Orpheus because how dare he try to taint the name of such a blessed man—

Andrew's never liked conflict. And from how he reacted in hindsight, it's pretty clear that he just thinks the manor hates him much more now. Which is why Norton's standing in front of his door, hesitating and lost in thought. Has it been a week now? A bit more?

The exact day doesn't matter. What matters is trying to get through to him that no, he will not be instantly crucified if he steps out of his room.

Better late than never, Norton knocks the door. There's movement. Then nothing.

“Andrew?” He calls through the cracks in the doorframe. There's no keyhole or letterbox, so it'll have to do.

Movement again. Andrew's steps are accented by the scraping tin sound of his shovel hitting the floor. Norton has no time to dwell on if he's really trying to walk with it or just dig through the floorboards before there's a thud. It sounds very close to him, despite being separated by the door.

Scrambling hands seem to fidget with the door lock, before stopping.

“...door's open-” Comes a rasp from Andrew. Norton winces. His voice always sounds sickly, but not like… that.

Norton decides not to waste any more time. He pushes open the door.

It's much, much worse than he thought.

-------

Luca Balsa was in the middle of watching his friend and sort-of-roommate, Emil, try to twist two particularly shiny strands of metal wire together into a flower shape, when a thud from somewhere on the floor made him flinch.

Looking around the room, he doesn't see anything that could have potentially fallen down. So he assumes that it was from someone else's room, and ignores it. There's voices down the hall, though. Or one voice speaking very strongly.

He can't quite place who they are, or what room the noise is coming from, but it's clearly grabbed Emil's attention alongside his own.

“Is that Mr Campbell?” Asks Emil.

“Probably.” Luca’s pretty sure it is, but it'd be rude to eavesdrop. And the conversation seems to have moved into one of the rooms anyway. So Emil continues to make his flower, and Luca continues to watch.

It's about ten minutes (or from what Luca could tell, it was about ten minutes. He keeps forgetting to put a clock in here.) before there are more sounds. A rather loud set of sounds. That of boots running very fast towards the door. They stop directly in front of it and leave him to stew in concern for a moment before the door is pushed open by a very stressed looking Norton Campbell.

“Hh- hello” He starts, still trying to catch his breath. “We've got a problem. An Andrew problem.”

Oh. Oh no.

“Is he alright?” Luca asks dumbly. He's definitely not, in fact, alright, given the look on Norton's face, but it's probably good to ask. Maybe he'll explain?

“Of course he's no— okay look, I… don't think he's eaten or slept since the argument the other day.” Right. The argument. Somehow that had completely slipped Luca's mind. “I don't know how to help. Three confused people are probably more helpful than one guy who I'm not even sure he considers a friend, so…”

Norton trails off into silence. Luca knows even less how to help. Andrew was always the one reminding him to care for himself, why has Andrew suddenly neglected himself, despite everything? And even if he was just scared to go get things, then-

“Oh… should we have helped sooner…?” asks Emil. Luca should have helped sooner, definitely. It was inevitable that Emil would forget, but Luca's trying to be the responsible one, damn it! Why did he have to forget!

“From what he said, he told you to leave him alone. He definitely wouldn't have come and got you. If he was left to his own devices. It's not your fault.” Norton being the voice of reason when Luca can't, as always.

“Why not?”

“You can ask him when we get there, Emil.”

Right. They were going to visit him.

And just like that the conversation was over.

Several pairs of feet step awkwardly into Andrew's room.

The lights are off, with the worn curtains only letting in a dim glow from outside to illuminate the place.

Luca's never been in this room before. It's a bit eerie.

The doorway faces a bed with too-neatly folded sheets. Norton was definitely right about Andrew not sleeping, at least assuming he slept there.

The bed faces a window where the light flickers through onto both sides of the room. One contains a wardrobe and some sort of gallery wall with images he can't make out.

The other side contains a shelf covered in all manner of rosaries, old books, and what appears to be metal. Next to that is some kind of dresser draped in cloth that blocks most of the mirror that he can see.

And next to all of that… is Andrew. He's practically lying on the floor as he kneels, with how close his head and shoulders are to its wooden surface. His eyes are shut.

He's not asleep, though. Luca sees the cross clasped in his tired hands, and hears hushed whispers stop as he notices their entry. He's been praying.

At that, Norton turns to leave. “I'm getting stuff from the kitchens for you all,” he says. “I'll be back in twenty.”

Luca guesses that's a sympathetic way of telling them to go deal with him. He can't blame the man. The door shuts, leaving them alone.

“Andrew?” Emil says into the heaving silence. “Are you alright..?”

Andrew's reaction is quick given how tired he looks, but it's still rather sluggish. He looks surprised to see them. Maybe a bit… fearful.

“'m alright…” is echoed back to them. He sounds horrible, speech broken and slurring, but there's a faint smile in his voice. “why’re you…” He trails off on every word.

“We're here because we want to comfort you.” Luca's tongue unties itself. “You're in pain.”

Andrew blinks at him. Maybe he doesn't realise that fact.

“I’ss alright, angel… ‘ll be okay…”

“But you aren't..” Emil crouches down next to him.

Andrew says something under his breath. Is he still praying? Maybe this is the area where he does it. It's probably best to move him if he keeps slipping back into doing that.

“Can you put the cross down?” Luca asks. It's not quite an order, but it is an instruction. He wants to pick Andrew up and lift him to bed himself, but that'd go disastrously. So he tries to herd him.

Andrew shakes his head. “nneed it to…” Luca cuts in.

“Pray? You've done more than enough of that by now. It's alright.”

He wouldn't be surprised if Andrew had been here for hours.

“M’re than… enough..? I did too much? Ssorry angel..” the man mutters. The cross is out of his hands now, laid on the floor next to him. There's still imprints of where it was. It looks sharp.

“It's alright…” Emil says. “You're not in trouble…” They wrap an arm around Andrew to try and stir him to his feet, only for him to lay his head on their shoulders instead.

Another mumbled sorry from Andrew. But sleeping here on the floor is much better than not sleeping at all.

Andrew lays down, properly this time, and closes his eyes. He can't be feeling well at all, and yet he smiles.

They stay like that for a very long time.

#andrew kreiss #Luca Balsa #Norton Campbell #Emil mesmer #identity v #idv #idv prisoner #idv prospector #idv gravekeeper #idv patient #idv fanfiction #Ollie writes

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