for @dickdamiweek‘s day 6 prompt (DILF!Damian) which i turned into magical age swap. jason was such a fuckin’ sweetie, ok. a sweetie with a sailor mouth.
Initially they think it’s just a cosmetic change, and Jason complains very, very colorfully, which doesn’t quite hide his nervousness. But then Jason hugs Alfred and willingly holds Damian’s hand as long as Damian is telling him stories about League history. And when Tim tracks down the artifact despite minimal evidence, Damian opens his mouth and says, “Excellent, as usual.”
Damian doesn’t get why everyone stares.
And when they figure out the artifact really truly swapped their ages physically and mentally, Damian says quietly to himself, startled, “I am of age.” Slowly, he turns to Dick with an intense look.
“Uh?” Dick says, and tiny Jason forgets he’s freaked out long enough to start cackling.
Rumbelle Week / Day Threed Rumbelle+Colours: Silver
Belle spent the last few minutes just staring at her own reflection. No mistaking what was in front of her very eyes; gingerly, she lifted a hand to press to the side of her head. Although still shy of her thirtieth year, she was surprised it wasn’t more prevalent, considering all the stress they’d faced over the last few weeks. Now, how to -
“Belllleeeeeeeeeeeeeee” Came the muffled whine from the adjoining room. Speaking of stress, it had been a long and trying day, and both of them were beyond tired.
With a wry smile, Belle stepped to the doorway of the master bath, looking in on the bedroom. Rumplestiltskin lay flat on his back on the bed, limbs splayed out in the exact position where she’d left him 10 minutes prior. The only difference being that he’d managed to change into his blue silk pajamas (that she’d often favored wearing herself many-a-morning). He’d tossed a pillow across his eyes to block out the offending bathroom light. Switching everything off, she carefully made her way over to the bed while her eyes adjusted to the moonlight peeking through the drapes.
Rumplestiltskin cracked an eye open at her as she perched on the edge of the bed.
“Everything alright Sweetheart? You usually spend less time in there than I do.”
“Hmm,” Belle peeled off her slippers. “I found one.”
“…A white hair.”
The other eye popped open. “What?”
She pointed to the side of her head to touch the offending strand.
Rumple just stared at her for a moment in semi- amusement, then flopped over on his side, facing away from her in a halfhearted sulk.
“Oh yes, right. ONE.”
Despite the playful timbre to his voice, Belle felt a bittersweet ache in her heart. He never spoke of it out loud, but she could tell the gap in their physical ages sometimes bothered him.
Gently, she reached over and carded the shining streak that lived near his left temple. The one that lately seemed to be growing day by day, that could usually only be seen peeking out from the tufts of his long hair. The one she secretly adored.
He grunted as she crawled under the sheets and snuggled up behind him. Lightly running the back of her finger up the line of his jaw, she stroked the soft sideburns which were also peppered with gray.
“Mr. Gold has a silver lining,” She purred, trying to soothe. “But only I get to touch.”
Finally, Rumple smiled. “You can touch as much as you like,” he said, pulling her into his embrace and tucking her under his chin.
“Really?” Asked Belle, with a hopeful note.
Rumplestiltskin would regret those words come morning.
The one when Claire is the most impressive and determined woman.
Taking care of your own household isna useful? Being married to me isna useful?” The lacing round his hair broke under the stress, and the thick locks fluffed out like a flaming halo. He glared down his nose at me like an avenging angel.
“Sauce for the gander,” I retorted coldly. “Is being married to me sufficient occupation for you? I don’t notice you hanging round the house all day, adoring me. And as for the household, bosh.”
“Bosh? What’s bosh?” he demanded.
“Stuff and nonsense. Rot. Horsefeathers. In other words, don’t be ridiculous. Madame Vionnet does everything, and does it several dozen times better than I could.
“Oh, aye? And if I forbid ye to go?”
This stopped me for a moment. I drew myself up and looked him up and down. His eyes were the color of rain-dark slate, the wide, generous mouth clamped in a straight line. Shoulders broad and back erect, arms folded across his chest like a cast-iron statue, “forbidding” was precisely the word that best described him.
“Do you forbid me?” The tension crackled between us. I wanted to blink, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of breaking off my own steely gaze. What would I do if he forbade me to go? Alternatives raced through my mind, everything from planting the ivory letter-opener between his ribs to burning down the house with him in it. The only idea I rejected absolutely was that of giving in.
I realized I had never shown the “final” drawing?? This is from November 2015!! I only shared WIPs(1)before(2) and totally forgot about it.. I can’t even explain lol.
It’s been only 2 months but I really see some spots I’M ITCHING to redraw/overpaint, but I tend to overdo things, so I said to myself - “NOPE TALLI, NOT THIS TIME, you had your chance, this drawing is /done/!”