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kaitolovebot · 1 year ago

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hi!! could you do a drabble about nondespair oumota on their first date 🥺

WOOOO YES!! Most of it is under the cut to stop it from clogging up the dash. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST!! <3

…

Come on, come on. One more chance…

It’s been a long time since Momota has been this sweaty. He can feel it dripping down the back of his neck and pooling underneath his shoulder blades, making the back of his shirt sticky and damp. It’s not even hot outside, either; it’s late autumn, comfortably cool enough for Ouma to be donning a scarf. Momota can feel his oversized eyes searching the back of his head, peeking out from the dense wool.

So it’s not the temperature that’s making Momota sweat. It’s the rows of empty bottles in front of him, the massive plushie that Ouma’s eyeing, and the fact that he’s down to one shitty little plastic ring, nestled in the palm of his hand.

Oh, and that it’s their first date. That’s probably playing a role.

Momota tightens his hand around the ring, smoothing his fingertips over the grooves in the synthetic silicone. It’s old and vaguely damaged — Momota is neither the first, nor the last person, to be personally victimized by a carnival game. The glass bottles are motionless in front of him, and their near-identical openings give Momota the impression of being watched by a thousand eyes.

The only differences between them are that one of them — set firmly in the middle, too close to the others for any reasonable chance of victory — has a gold rim. This is the bottle that Momota has to land on to get Ouma his stuffed animal. He settles his gaze upon it, and winds his arm up, like he’s preparing to throw a frisbee. Time is running out; now is his chance.

Three… two… one…

“Jeez, Momota-chan, are you ever gonna throw that thing? We’ve been here so long that I’m getting wrinkles!”

Momota’s arm is halfway through his throw when Ouma speaks, and the ring slips from his sweaty hand, shooting towards the array of bottles. He knows from the second he’s let go of it that it’s over; the ring ricochets against the glass, clinking violently against the necks of the bottles. It skips over the entire middle of the square, with such precision that Momota feels like he’s being mocked, and tumbles between two upper-left bottles, clattering onto the floor.

“Fuck!” Momota groans. “Ouma! Come on, man!”

He whips around to confront Ouma, who looks so innocent that Momota almost believes he didn’t set him up to fail. He’s halfway through a funnel cake, which he’s eating with his hands, having long-since discarded his plastic fork. Momota would like to think he threw it away, but it’s probably on the pavement somewhere. Ouma flutters his eyelashes and sucks the powdered sugar off of one of his fingers.

“What did I do? Don’t take your shitty ring toss skills out on me, Momota-chan! Maybe try not sweating like a pig next time!”

“Sorry, man. Looks like you lost,” The carnie says, with a tone that doesn’t imply much sympathy at all. Momota silently wonders if anyone’s ever won this game. “You want to try again? It’s only 1500 yen.”

Well, 1500 yen isn’t that bad. Momota eyes the stuffed animal hanging from the ceiling of the stand, trying to gauge how much he’s willing to spend on this thing. But really, it isn’t even about the plushie anymore. This is about Momota’s pride. It’s also about the fact that if he fails miserably here, this date — and any future it would have — could very well be over. Really, it’s not even a question.

Momota’s hand is halfway into his wallet when Ouma’s hand lands on his arm.

“Hey, Momota-chan promised we’d go get lunch after this!” Ouma stuffs the last bite of crunchy fried batter into his mouth, and folds up the paper plate in his hands. “I’m starving to death! Just look at me!”

“I thought you wanted the plush —“ Momota starts. Ouma squeezes his arm hard enough to make him grimace, and Momota gets the sense that he should shut his mouth.

“Now, Momota-chan, before I turn into skin and bones!”

Ouma is already skin and bones, somehow, despite the massive amount of junk he eats on a daily basis. But Momota doesn’t want to say no, so he stuffs his wallet back into his pocket — in the front, so Ouma can’t snatch it when he turns around — and lets Ouma hang onto his sleeve. His skin is warm, heated from his meal. It makes Momota feel pretty warm, too.

The carnival music is loud, even as they wander away from the stand, but Ouma is suspiciously quiet. Momota lasts about thirty seconds before he pries.

“You were pretty insistent about the stuffed animal before,” Momota says. “What the hell changed your mind? And I could have gotten it that time, you know! If you had let me try again!”

“Okay, no. Momota-chan never would have won that game, and he knows it,” Ouma says. Momota scowls. “But that’s not the point! Cause the point never was to win! Dummy!”

“What —“

Ouma yanks Momota behind one of the stands. This one involves picking up a plastic duck from a pool of water, and looking at the bottom of it. It’s the dumbest, most inane game that Momota can think of, but Ouma doesn’t seem to want to play it. He crouches down and yanks off one of his shoes.

Momota’s about to ask him what the hell he’s doing when he unzips a small compartment in the side, and pulls out something small and soft.

“The point was to get this!”

Ouma pulls his shoes on, stands back up, and presents the item to Momota. It’s a small stuffed toy, shaped like a rocket ship. Ouma holds it by the little chain and ring attached to the nose cone. It takes Momota a second to remember where he knows it from; it was one of the small prizes, the reward for hitting any bottle, not just the gold one.

“Where’d you—“

“I stole it!” Ouma announces. “And you helped by distracting the carnie! Thanks, Momota-chan!”

“I didn’t mean to help you steal something!” Momota reaches for the stuffed rocket, and Ouma doesn’t stop him; in fact, he kind of pushes it into his palm. It’s cheap-looking, like all carnival prizes are, but it’s cute. And it’s a rocket. Momota looks up at Ouma, suddenly getting it.

“But it was in the name of romance!” Ouma zips his shoe back up; Momota holds onto his shoulder to prevent him from tripping. “Cause I got it for you. I thought you would like it! You know what space nerds always say; have your idiot date shoot for the big plushie, and even if you miss, you’ll land among the little ones.”

Momota squeezes the plushie, gently. Practically, you could definitely buy this exact thing for less than the cost of playing the game. But despite that, he’s touched. He wants to hang it on his backpack, but more than that, he wants to show his appreciation. He looks up at Ouma, and opens his mouth.

“Oh, God,” Ouma crinkles his nose. “Don’t get sappy. I can see that look on your face! I also just took it ‘cause taking things is fun. So don’t let it get to your head.”

“Right,” Momota says. “Got it.” His tone does not convey that he’s got it, but he’s not going to make Ouma backpedal further. He tucks the rocket into his pocket, very gently, like he’s holding a small animal. More than that, like he’s holding a token of affection — rare, coming from Ouma. It’s a little 1500 yen treasure. “Uh, thanks.”

“Whatever,” Ouma says. He suddenly seems somewhat bashful. “I wasn’t lying about starving, you know! If you don’t get me to a hot dog stand now, you’re gonna have to carry me. Chop chop, Momota-chan! Let’s get going!”

“Sure.” Momota says, instead of saying what he wants to say. He reaches for Ouma’s hand, again; their fingers interlace. Momota squeezes, tenderly, and Ouma doesn’t make fun of him for it.

Momota will figure out a way to return the favor later, whether Ouma thinks it’s sappy or not. Right now, though, lunch awaits.

…

I’m still taking oumota drabble requests! If anyone has a short & sweet sfw oumota idea, pls send it in my inbox and I’ll see if I can make it happen!! <3

#oumota #kaito momota #kokichi ouma #drv3 #danganronpa #this took me so long because i was so busy this week… hope it is cute and satisfies anyway <3 #thank you anon!

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lacheri · 4 years ago

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CHERRY BABY CONGRATS ON YOUR 900 ♥

HERE'S A PIC OF LEVI AND YOU

ILY♥

(credit: suzupiyosan on twitter ♥)

US AND LEVI CHERRY. US

thank you so much beautiful <333

#I’m so sorry for clogging up the dash I just feel bad I’m trying to answer all my messages ):#I’m just rly lucky to have friends omfggg #cherry ilysm #I love cherry!#mootz 🖤#cherieanswers

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bubblegumfanfictions · 3 years ago

Text

Falling in Love again.

Fandom- Bleach

Ships- Kisuke Urahara x Reader

Warnings- Some language, Implied Sexual Assault, Past sexual Assault.

Summary- Imagine a tally mark appearing on your skin every time you fall in love. When your tally mark is Red then it's onesided, Black then the love is returned. If it is scarred then your love ended traumatically.

You have a scarred tally mark and a red tally mark, the red one being for Kisuke Urahara.

Word Count- 3,928

You led in bed staring down at your wrist where a single red tally mark decorated your skin. In this world, a tally mark showed your love. People who fell in love easily were littered with marks, whereas the people who were only in love with one person would have one. If the mark is red it's unrequited, if it was Black then the person you love returns your feelings.

Your singular red mark was for Kisuke Urahara, a friend of your friends. You went to his shop with your friends whenever they needed something from him seeing as that seemed to be your only excuse to see him. You didn't want to come across as weird for visiting on your own. Especially when you have no real powers like the others.

Annoyingly you had one other mark on your arm, a scarred tally mark, one from your ex. In this world a scarred tally would mean that your love for them ended very abruptly and traumatically. No one knew about that tally, you were very good at keeping it hidden, whether it was with a well placed bracelet or a long sleeved shirt.

Rolling onto your side you let out a huff. It hurts, it shouldn't but it does. Knowing that the one man you love doesn't feel the same way. You barely get to see him since your friends don't visit that often. But you'll take whatever time you can with him even if you don't get to talk.

Well, only time will tell.

---

"Y/N!!!" A fist slammed against the door multiple times as Ichigo's voice yelled your name. "C'mon man! We've gotta get to Hat 'n' Clogs!" Sleepily, you raised your head taking a glance out of your open window.

"Wh-what for?" The early morning rasp in your voice made it a note or so deeper than it actually was. You stretched out and hopped out of bed throwing on the nearest clothing you had, which happened to be a (f/c) long knit sweater, a pair of black leggings and some brown boots.

"Y/N! We haven't got all day, move your ass!" You shook your head and ran out of the house not brushing your hair, figuring you could comb it down with your fingers on the way there.

By the time you got there you realised there was no point fixing your hair until you got inside in the first place. It was so windy outside that your hair just kept blowing around which made it worse than before. "Hey, come in guys." You froze for a moment as heat rushed to your face, you brushed a small amount of hair over your face, hoping he didn't notice it.

Quickly yet quietly you walked into the shop following behind Ichigo whilst you brushed down your hair. Kisuke stopped you briefly "You missed a spot." and with nimble hands, he began to flatten down your hair. "There, done." He gave you his signature grin, placing a hand onto the small of your back leading you to the rest.

Once Kisuke leads you to your friends he then gets down to business. “So, I am assuming you guys are here for the training grounds, right?” The ginger he questioned nods his head. You didn’t have any special abilities at all, but your friends knew you were great moral support and a generally good person so they let you in on their secret.

Most of the time you find days like this one quite boring, sure you’d get to see Kisuke but you usually have nothing to do. On some days you would help Tessai, Jinta and Ururu with their work or well, in Jinta and Ururu’s case, you would do their work for them.

When your friends finish training and all head home Kisuke typically gives you something for your time. At first he would give you the equivalent of minimum wage for the amount of work you do but recently (due to finding out your love for (favourite collectable)) he would end up getting you those instead.

The boys and Orihime go down into the training room, leaving you upstairs in the shop with Kisuke. “So, um… Is there anything you need me to do today?” you asked in your typically meek voice. Being with Kisuke made you so nervous you could barely talk, so being able to say that was a blessing.

Kisuke tilted his hat back with his thumb as he thought about things you could do around the shop. “Not that I can think of, for once Jinta and Ururu did the work I assigned for them.” You fake gasped at his comment. They finished their work… Early?

“No way, Jinta and Ururu finished their work? Damn that never happens.” Kisuke laughed at your comment and squeezed your shoulder. Yeah, when you did hang out with Kisuke alone you did have a lot of fun, but you still don’t like to intrude if you don’t have a reason to.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well what am I meant to do then?!” You dramatically waved your arms in the air in exasperation. When you did so Kisuke caught sight of the two tally marks and promptly grabbed your wrist.

“A Scar and a Red tally mark. I’m sure those are both fun stories.” He lightly massaged the scarred tally on your wrist making you flinch. He looked up at you in concern, dropping your arm. “Sorry.”

“It is fine, I’m just- No one has ever seen that before, as you can imagine I’m not particularly keen on anyone seeing that one..” You explain, rubbing the scar to try and ease some of the emotional turmoil.

“Does anyone know? Ichigo? Orihime? Chad?” He listed off some of your friends and to each one you shook your head. No one knew this, and you were planning on keeping it a secret from everyone, not even Kisuke was meant to know. “Would you mind telling me?” You shook your head once more. You didn’t even want to remember the scar, much less the asshole who caused it.

Kisuke rubbed your shoulder, trying to soothe your pain with a small smile on his face. "It's fine, you don't have to talk about it. But if you ever need to, I'll be happy to listen." Tears start to pool in your eyes, you've never spoken about it to anyone outside of your family, maybe it would be good. But not now.

You gave Kisuke a tight hug, the tears in your eyes spilling out. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." You kept repeating over and over into his chest. Kisuke was shocked at first but wrapped his arms around you, rubbing his fingertips up and down your spine to calm you down, his cheek pressed into your hair.

Both of you stayed that way for a while until you finally calmed down, letting go of the tall, green clad man. "I'm sorry about that- I should probably head home." You scrubbed at your eyes with the sleeve of your jumper with an appreciative smile on your face.

"Hey, it is fine." Kisuke messed up your hair with one of his hands. "It is nothing to worry about, just know that I am here if you need to talk. Just because you don't have powers doesn't mean you can't come here whenever you want to." He cups your face in his hands with a grin "YOU are an absolute pleasure to have here, okay?" You nodded your head, still too upset to really speak properly. "Good."

Kisuke walks you to the door once you calmed down enough and saw you out. "Hope to see you here soon, Y/N." You nodded your head.

"That will probably be when they come here again." You smiled at him, waving your hand as you walked home.

------- Timeskip to a week later. -------

You walk home from the shops as you keep looking down at the shopping list, making sure that you have everything. Your mother had asked you to go down because she forgot some ingredients she needed. It was getting a little dark and it was kind of scary being by yourself, but at the same time you did enjoy the peace and quiet.

"Ohhh, Look who it is." Your face paled, you knew that voice anywhere, he was the reason for the scar. "Why do you look so scared, don't you remember the fun we had together?" You bit your lower lip harshly, weighing out your options. Urahara's shop wasn't that far away so you could make a break for it, but you knew he was a fast runner.

With a groan you made your choice and dashed to the shop. "Oi! Get back here you stupid cunt!" Of course, you could hear the sound of heavy footfalls hitting the asphalt behind you, this was inevitable. But if you got close enough to the shop you knew that you'd be able to at least get someone's attention, whether it was Jinta, Ururu, Kisuke or Tessai.

"Oh, Y/n I knew you enjoyed our time together, you remembered how much I enjoyed the struggle. Although you were so much more compliant when you slept." You stopped dead in your tracks, you hated him, you hated thinking about him... About the things he has done and the fact that you loved him once. He laughed at your stop, you were almost right outside of the shop by this point, but that didn't matter.

"Do you finally agree with me Y/n? Do you finally see that it is all you're good for?" You were trembling by this point, not from fear, oh no; from pure hatred. You dropped the bag you were holding in your dominant hand and with a quick turn you put all of your anger into your movements and punched him in the face, knocking him to the floor.

Your body, however, was still shaking. You wanted to hurt him, you wanted to hurt him bad. How was it fair that he got out of the relationship with nothing yet you with a heart full of anxiety and fear. You readied yourself to hit him again with the fist that already had blood on it since you broke his nose when you heard a voice call out to you.

"Y/n? Y/n? Are you okay?" Your head turned towards the store, and stood in the doorway was none other than Kisuke Urahara. You didn't even look down at him. You sprinted as fast as you could to Kisuke, pushing him inside of the building before sliding the door shut.

You led your back against the door as you slid down it, landing yourself on the floor. Your eyes were wide, frightened- Kisuke has never seen you with that expression, you looked terrified. Knowing something was up, he locked the store up and left the room, coming back with a warm cup of tea, sitting next to you.

He handed you the cup and spoke with a quiet voice, trying not to scare you. "What was all that about? Are you okay?" You shook your head, keeping your face directed towards the cup in your hands, which were still trembling. "Did you want to talk about it once you're calmed down?" You nodded your head, Kisuke was silent for a few seconds, as if contemplating whether or not he should say anything. "Did you want a hug?" You nodded again.

Kisuke wasted no time wrapping his left arm around you to pull you into his side, he used his thumb to rub little circles into your side as his head rested on top of yours. "It'll be okay, Y/n. You'll be okay, just breathe. Whatever happened won't happen anymore, you're safe here." He kept whispering to you.

Eventually, you finished the drink he made you and hugged him back. His face was now completely in your hair as he kissed the top of your head. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Y-yeah, thank you..." You stuttered out, tired from what had just occurred.

"Good, if you want I can run you a bath and get you some fresh clothes. You can stay the night if you don't feel safe to head back, okay?" You nodded your head, but then you remembered your mother. As if reading your thoughts, Kisuke spoke up again. "I'll phone your mum while you're in the bath and fill her in, how does that sound?"

"That sounds good, thank you Kisuke." He rubbed your head and stood up, offering you his hand.

After your bath you had calmed down considerably, no longer shaking and being able to speak. Kisuke left some of his clothes folded up in the bathroom for you to change into (which you did). You sat on Kisuke's bed cross legged, trying to comprehend what happened today when there was a knock at the door. "Come in."

Kisuke walks into the room with your phone in his hand. "So I spoke to your mother, she said you could stay here for the night and that I should walk you home at some point tomorrow, or whenever depending on how long you want to stay." He sits next to you and continues. "She also told me who that guy was. Nothing about what happened, she just said that he is the scum of the earth."

You laughed "Yeah, that sounds about right. Due to what happened I don't ever call him my ex. Whenever anyone mentions him we just call him twat." Of course, Kisuke was very confused as to what happened but he already asked a few times so he didn't want to push it, but the look on his face told you everything. "I'll tell you what happened."

"You don't have to." He protested quickly, not knowing if it would upset you to talk about it.

"It is fine, I just have one condition. This is a very touchy subject for me so I was wondering if you could um--- how do I put this?" Kisuke chuckled, knowing what you meant, sitting back with you on his bed, pulling you into his side, much like when you were against the door.

"Take your time."

You took a deep breath and began. "He was my first boyfriend, if I can call him that. He was controlling, manipulative and abusive in more ways than one. He didn't let me talk about any guys, if I played a game wrong he would stop me from playing it. If he was horny I'd have to do something about it and so on... Well anyway, it got to the point where I-- I didn't want to do anything like that. He said he was fine with it... But-" Your breathing got heavier the further into explaining, tears began to form and fall from your eyes. You hated remembering this, but you were hoping that maybe this would be good in the long run.

"Hey, look at me." You hear Kisuke say gently as he turns your face to him. "I know it may not mean or do much but you're safe here, nothing is going to happen to you, I'll look after you, okay? There is no need to worry while you're here, but I do understand why you are." He rubs your head affectionately, hugging you tighter. "Like I said, take your time."

You relished in that hug and composed yourself before continuing. "He said he was fine with it, but one night I woke up and his hand was somewhere it shouldn't have been and his other hand was--- y-yeah. He was with me for a while after that since I was too scared to break up with him. Then I met someone I really liked who was so nice to me, and I realised that I didn't want to be stuck with someone like him."

Kisuke made a noise of understanding. "So that is the red mark then, it is hard to believe that someone would be so thankful for a red mark."

"Yeah, I know. But I really am, and I'm thankful for the help from him too." You smiled, running your finger delicately along the red tally mark.

"Doesn't the red tally mark hurt though? That the person who saved you from that twat doesn't feel the same?" He asked, and yeah it was painful.

"Yeah, it is really painful. But I always think to myself I would rather have this red tally mark and be friends with him than have none at all and still be with twat. Anything is better than that even if it is not reciprocated love." You shrugged your shoulders trying to come across as nonchalant when all you wanted to do was tell Kisuke that the mark was him, but you decided against it. You let out a yawn that caught Kisuke's attention.

"I should probably let you sleep then." He gets up from his spot and you huddle under the covers. Kisuke grins at the sight, fixing the blankets over you and kissing your forehead. "Today has been a rough day so if you need anything just shout, okay? Even if you think it is dumb." Despite everything that happened you slept well that night.

----Time skip 3 days----

"Y/n! Let's go! Hat n Clogs is waiting!" Ichigo yelled up to your window, pulling you from your sleep. You rush to get dressed, throwing a jumper on with leggings like before and you ran from the house.

You opened the door and outside waiting for you was Ichigo and the gang. "Well? Come on!" With that you all went back to Kisuke's shop. Over the 3 days you and Kisuke got closer, he'd constantly phone your mother to check up on you. (since he phoned your mum before and not you so he knew her number) It bugged her so much that she gave you Kisuke's number so she wouldn't be bothered anymore, which was sweet.

Everyone walked into the shop and greeted Kisuke. "Ah, Y/n!" He wrapped his arm around your shoulder playfully, a smile playing across his lips. "Everything okay?" You could see his eyes from the angle so you knew what he meant and you smiled back at him.

"Yeah, I'm okay." He let go of you and began talking to the others about Gigai upgrades. As you tidied around the shop you heard the bell chime indicating someone had come in, you looked up and that someone was twat. Your eyes went wide as you dropped the broom you were holding, alerting the others.

Kisuke's carefree smile and attitude completely dropped when he saw who was there. He grabbed your shoulders, pushing you towards your friends, they noticed something was up there and they stood in front of you. "Get out." He shakes his head, walking around the store as he was being stared at by everyone. "I said get out."

Twat laughed, "I'm a customer here, you can't tell me to get out, I want to buy something." Kisuke got closer to Twat, who was starting to clearly become intimidated by your friends.

"I have the right to refuse people. Customers are typically human, and sadly you don't qualify for one of those, so get the fuck out of my shop." With each sentence Kisuke got closer to him until eventually he got so intimidated and fled. Kisuke locked the shop door and ran over to you, avoiding the strange looks from the others.

"Are you okay?" You appear to be in a state of shock, you feel like you can barely move or speak, you just stood there, trembling. Kisuke continues to ignore the others as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. "I am going to tell them if that is alright, just make any sound for a yes, okay?" He heard a small sound come from you so he begins to explain to your friends what happened.

-------

By the end of the explanation you came back to reality, since you weren't paying attention to anything other than Kisuke's arms around you, you were able to pull through pretty quick. Your friends all looked really mad at him for everything he did and thanked Kisuke profusely for helping you out through this. After a while, the others finally leave, giving you a hug and giving you a word of advice, they even offered to teach you how to fight which you decided to take up.

You sat with Kisuke in his room as you usually do after something like that happens. You were talking about nothing in particular when Kisuke stopped you. "Um- Y/n, that person- they return your feelings." You laughed

"No they don't, the proof is in the pu---" You lift your sleeve to show the proof when you noticed that he was right. The telly mark was Black now. You stare at the mark in utter shock. "I- What?" Your eyebrows furrowed together. "That is impossible, why would he like me?" Kisuke smiles at you, messing up your hair like he normally does.

"Probably because you're a fantastic p-" He stops dead in his tracks when he stops a completely new mark on his arm, the arm that was totally clean, in all of his years of living he has never fallen in love. You look up and wonder why he went quiet when you notice him staring at his arm, he must have realised who that tally mark is for. "That-" He gestures towards your mark. "That is for me, isn't it?"

You flush, you never thought you'd end up in a situation like this one. "Y-yeah it is." You bite your lip in worry, you knew he liked you as well, I mean you could literally see it, but that doesn't mean that he would want to be with you. Kisuke smiled softly at you as he ran his fingers through your hair.

"I always thought you were pretty, and I knew that I would absolutely fall for you, I could feel it. So I'm honestly glad it is returned. But um- We don't have to be in a relationship yet if you don't think you're ready for one." Kisuke was the sweetest and that is why, without a doubt in your mind, you knew that you were ready.

"I am ready, I've wanted to be with you for a long time now, I love you Kisuke." You blushed heavily. You think those words often enough but you didn't think you'd ever say them out loud to him.

"Since we have that sorted- can I kiss you?" Kisuke asked, his thumb running across your jaw, your skin tingling from his touch.

"Yeah, you can." His thumb moved, holding on lightly to your chin to pull you close. You were a hair's width away from kissing but he stayed there for a few moments with a look in his eyes that said 'You can still back off if you want to' but you didn't. He took your stillness as an invitation to continue and planted a soft kiss to your lips, his hands moved to cup your cheeks while your own remove his hat so they could rest in his hair. After a few moments of his soft kiss Kisuke pulled back, only to kiss you one more time.

"I love you too, Y/n. I'll make sure nothing bad will ever happen to you again."

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internalsealpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Respectful Cannibalism

Summary: Watching mystery movie with a bunch of detective was a bad idea

A/n: While this is part 3 to my Space Case series, you’re not required to read Art Gallery Smile or Cosmonauts to understand the context to this. The only note I do have is that Dick and Steph are friends with Reader much to Tim’s everlasting horror. Special thanks to @littleredwing89 and @glorified-red for proof reading this mess.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff and a confusing amount of batkids in one scene.

Main Masterlist

Tim Drake Masterlist

Tim coughs, loud and ragged into the speaker. You find yourself wincing at the phone tucked against your ear. Tim sounds like he’s dying or, at the very least, he’s on his way there.

“I’m so-”

“Fucking tired of saying sorry that you decided to go skinny dipping in Gotham Harbor? Yeah. Great, I’m sick of hearing it too. Glad, we’re on the same page, Space Cadet.” You exasperate, pulling on your jeans violently enough for Tim to hear the angry shuffling of fabric.

“Skinny dipping?” Tim huffs, a fond smile playing on his lips as he drinks in the timber of your voice. Even when you were absolutely exasperated, your voice was still soothing or maybe he just misses your company. God, he’s such a sap.

You shake your head in disbelief. That was his take away? “Yes, Timmy, Buck-ass skinny dipping,” you laugh, coming out derisive and sharp. Tim groans this time filled with guilt. The first few sounds of another ‘I’m sorry’ form in the back of his throat as he runs his hand through his bed head. For once, you’re thankful that you’re nowhere near Tim because you are one apology away from decking him and you’re pretty sure that that’s a terrible thing to do to a sick person, especially one with no brain cells to spare.

“I- You were really looking forward to this (Y/n), don’t try to deny it.” You weren’t going to. He was right. You were looking forward to this date. You were impossibly, unreasonably giddy over the prospect of going to the planetarium with Tim this afternoon. WITH Tim. Sure, you’re pretty down about it but you were the tiniest bit more concerned about the fact that your boyfriend had water in his lungs and almost died of hypothermia for a hot second. You pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping that worry and murder radiate off of you in equal measure. “I was also looking forward to my letter from Hogwarts,” you sneer, pausing dramatically to look at your watch, “and it’s been roughly a decade.” You hear Tim swallow and the hairs on your neck bristle in petty satisfaction.

Tim chortles, a lively sound that startles you, then coughs but the sound comes out somehow sounding doubtful and teasing. Embarrassment flares up in you. “You were too!” you protest, hackles drawn to full height. A short breathy laugh leaves Tim and you feel the flush on your face ease into something softer and more rounded. All the sharpness in your veins dissipates as the flash of fondness for that stupid laugh takes over. You can imagine him warm under the covers smiling at the phone at your blunder. “Please, (y/n), my hopes were dashed when I was 4 and still not in the Jedi order.”

“Bullshit, you were never a child,” you snort, sharpening the grin on your face into something vicious. “I refuse to believe you were ever a child! You probably sprang out of a textbook fully formed- Wait, I’m getting off-topic. ” Tim hums innocently and you narrow your eyes at the phone, hoping he can feel the ‘I am revoking your breathing privileges’ look. “You always are.” Tim says before falling into a coughing fit.

“Sorry, Cosmo, I just keep getting lost in your eyes,” you whisper, pitching your voice rich and caramel smooth. There’s a sound on the other line. Tim is babbling you realize. You hear a shuffle of fabric and a body rising. Tim sucks in a breath, red-faced and caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. He can practically see the cocky grin playing on your face, the light of the sun reflecting as golden flecks in your eyes. “You can’t even see them!” Tim stammers, glowering at you through the phone. You cackle at him as if sensing the venomous look he’s giving you. “You can barely open them!” Tim rolls his, very much, open eyes, falling back into an unnecessarily large pile of pillows that Alfred insisted was necessary for bed rest with a loud ‘fwoof’. “Yes, I can,” Tim mumbles, sounding young for once. You do your level best to smother a grin on your face. “I’m just really drowsy from the chamomile tea Alfie gave me.” You stop dead in your tracks, one hand half in your coat the other on the doorknob. You blink. “You’re at the Manor?”

Tim pauses, making a frustrated noise. He shouldn’t have said that. “Dick and B… insisted.” This draws another one of your sharp laughs. He says insisted as if it was ever negotiable. “Did they ‘insist’ before or after they blow-dried and hung you out to dry?” Tim squawks and you hear shuffling again. Tim tries to remember why he doesn’t hate you. “Tell me again how you found out about me getting sick? Steph? Cass?”

“Hmmmmmm, Dick.”

“THAT TRAITOR”

“Funny way to pronounce older brother,” you hum smug. You can feel Tim glaring daggers at you. “You-”

“There’s a home theater, yeah?”

Tim pauses, this time longer. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Answer the question, Space Case.”

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Great! It’s a date then,” you say, mentally preparing a route to the Manor from the vague directions Steph told you once. You could just use the maps app-

“NO!” You freeze. Tim flinches at the volume of his own voice. He whispers an indiscernible ‘I’m sorry’. You turn it over in your mind before speaking. “No?” You ask, trying your best to sound hurt instead of amused. Maybe you should have pitched your voice higher, more shaky. “Look, Tim, I-” Tim heaves a loud sigh. “-(Y/n), you’re fine-” Well, you aren’t, you think. You bite your tongue, physically to make sure you don’t say anything unnecessary. “-It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s- It’s just my siblings...” Tim knows that his siblings have been talking about you.

“Timmy, I can take whatever shovel talk they can give me,” you say with the confidence of someone who has never been dangled over the edge of a roof top. Ok, to be fair, YOU had nothing to worry about. Tim, on the other hand, was going to get roasted alive. Maybe he can persuade you into not- Tim hears the tell tale sputtering of your bike’s engine and he feels his blood pressure spike. The engine genuinely sounds like a death rattle.

“You’ll get sick.”

You swear and he hears another sputter of the engine. “You’ll get sick,” he croaks again, louder this time hopefully over the dying engine. Maybe if your engine dies right now, he’ll be spared from a slow agonizing death via siblings. “Relax Cosmo, I have the strongest ward against whatever you got,” you say, giving the engine a light kick. Tim hears a few metallic clunks then the engine stutters to life. Tim looks up past the ceiling trying to glare at whatever cosmic being resurrected your engine.

“Which is...”

“Being broke. It does wonders for your health.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Tim says, shifting burying his head against the too soft pillows. The soft fabric makes his eyes feel heavy. He yawns. He hears the sputter or your laugh. It’s hard to tell from the sudden drowsiness making his head swim.

“I promise I’ll explain to your typical rich kid ass when I get there, Tim.”

“That’s not how it works,” Tim slurs, face pressed into a pillow.

You laugh, he’s sure this time.

“I’m-” Tim’s mind unfocuses and the words you say garble together ”-Tim. ”

Tim blinks, mouth moving to ask you to repeat that but the last thing he hears is a soft click.

On the bright side, it would just be him and Alfred at the manor.

_________________________________________________________

Batmanisfake: I heard (y/n)'s coming over😶

Nightwingingit:👀 How do you even know that?

Batmanisfake: What are you? A cop?

Nightwingingit: say that again but slowly 🙄

Batmanisfake: ...

Damian: He bugged Drake's phone. For blackmail purposes, of course.

Nightwingingit: JASON

The Cool One: Shush Dick! He's onto something

Batmanisfake: Thank you

The Adult: I for once had nothing to do with it😌

Theactualbatman: I'm assuming we're all coming home tonight?

The Cool One: I'll bring popcorn

Damian: Nonsense Pennyworth will likely have some prepared

The Cool One:😭 We really do not deserve that man

Nightwingingit: Definitely

thesaneone: We're recording Tim's face when he sees us, right?

Batmanisfake: From all angles

The Adult: You're all horrible

Batmanisfake: Please like you're not hacking into the cameras as we speak, Babs

The Adult: You have no proof👀

_________________________________________________________

Tim’s head felt thick and gooey like one of Alfred’s custards. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s in a fish tank. There’s a sickly Chlorine smell clogging his nostrils; it smells powdery and sterile and reminds him vaguely of aspirin. Tim blinks. His eyes hurt; they feel puffy and sore and hot. His vision is further obscured by a thick layer of fleece blankets Alfred had piled high over him. He shuts his eyes still feeling too overwhelmed by the low light coming from the window.

Tim thinks he hears his window open with a soft click. Tim quiets his breathing. His hearing is too muddled to process anything beyond it. There’s a soft thud of heavy boots in the room; it’s imperceptible and dreamlike the way it reaches his ears that it has him shifting under the covers trying his best to discern the sound. A dozen lighter footsteps follow it and he can sense 6 shapeless bodies hovering over him.

“Should we wake him up?” asks a voice that vaguely sounds like Cass.

There’s a shuffling sound. Leather, he thinks. “Wait, lemme take a picture.”

“Red, why? It’s not like you can blackmail him with pictures of him sleeping.”

“Because, flashlight, I need proof that Timbo sleeps. ”

“Because?”

“Ok, how many times have you seen him asleep?”

“Uh...”

“Exactly!”

Tim hears a laugh that distinctly sounds like Dick. “Does it count if Alfie drugged him?”

“Maybe?” Steph says, shrugging.

“It doesn’t, Brown.”

“Damn it.”

“Does that mean B doesn’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

Maybe if Tim keeps sleeping, they’ll go away on their own. Tim wraps the sheets tightly around himself, hoping the large stack of fleece would be enough to muffle his siblings.

“I’m pretty sure I have dibs on waking him for opening the window for you shits.”

“Red, anyone could have opened that,” Duke laughs, stepping slightly behind Cass, who at the moment was paying more attention to the moving pile of fabric. Maybe if Tim stays really still she’ll turn her attention to something else.

“Cass and Dickface would have just broken it.‘

“I would not!”

“Sorry, Cass, you would.”

“Steph, whose side are you on?”

“Why is no one defending me?” Dick sighs.

“No one cares, Dickface. And Blondie’s clearly playing for the right team-” Steph cackles. “-none of you have any finesse.”

“Not all of us can be drama queens, Todd.”

“You’re like the third to the last person I wanna hear this from.”

“Third? You’re ranking us now? Who gave you the right?”

“Alfred,” Jason deadpans, “And yeah. Bruce and Dick are first and second.”

“Hey!”

“Can it Mr. Pretty Man Down.”

“That was one-”

“What rank am I?”

“uh … fifth.”

“Fifth?!”

“Sorry, Blondie, Cass has you beat with that ballet kick thingy.”

“Ok, yeah I can accept that. What about Babs?”

“What about Babs? The woman can kick my ass six ways to Sunday. ”

Tim’s head throbs all over. There are soft pin pricks pressing on the sole of his left foot; his leg jerks involuntarily. He wants to scream. Tim swears under his breath. A gloved hand pries the covers away from Tim’s face. Tim squints his eyes open only to be greeted by Dick’s kind, but still very punchable, face. Tim takes a long rasp, pinching his features in a mix of annoyance and despair. “Why are you-” Cough! “-here?”

There’s a slight quirk to Dick’s smile.“They wanted to meet (y/n),” Dick explains in a sweeping theatrical motion of his hand across the room directing Tim’s attention to the expressions on his sibling’s expressions which were all a variation of devious scheming.

“How did-” cough. “- you even know-” cough. “-(y/n) was coming?” Tim asks, shooting up from his pile of pillows causing a couple of blankets to topple to the floor to the ground. Tim’s lightheaded. He suddenly feels a shift in his balance, a feeling of vertigo. He nearly topples to the ground, his blood not quite catching up to his movements, when feels hands wrap around his shoulders. “Woah there Baby Bird, slowdown.”

“Answer-” Cough!

“It was Todd.”

“You mutant sperm!”

“Jay, aren’t we all mutant sperm?” Steph laughs, slinging one arm over an irate Damian’s shoulders and another over a fuming Jason’s shoulders. Tim groans, sounding pained. “How much do I need to pay each of you to get all of you to go away?”

“A lifetime of IOUs,” Dick says, casually.

“NO!”

“All of your share in W.E.,” Duke says, laughing. Steph elbows him lightly, also laughing. “You’re shooting prelow there, Slick,” Steph teases. Duke shrugs still grinning. “Gotta keep it realistic, yanno?” Steph and Duke keep bickering.

“Drake, kindly, pay with your life.”

Tim scrunches his nose. “I’m already on my deathbed, you know, dying. What else do you want from me?”

“A more agonizing death.”

Jason grins, tilting his chin. “C’mon, Timbo, we can help with your little impromptu date.” Tim groans, placing his face in his hands. “Please just help me dig my own grave.”

“What would be the fun in that, Timbo?”

“For you or for me?”

“Come on, Tim, it’ll be fine,” Cass says, clearly not believing the words herself. All seven of them dissolve into another round bickering. Damian, Jason, and Steph hellbent on giving Tim an aneurysm. Duke and Cass playing at being neutral; Duke leaning on Tim’s side but laughing way too hard at Steph’s well placed jabs; Cass is only mildly siding with Tim to spite Jason. Why this time? Tim has no clue.

The string of banter is broken up by the echoing the doorbell. Tim’s heart seizes as they all fall silent, enraptured by the odd sound of a doorbell filling the hallowed halls of Wayne Manor. The chiming of bells ends with the creaking of the large oak doors in the front of the manor.

Before Tim’s sluggish brain could even formulate a thought, all of his siblings are all bounding towards the door, bouncing off the walls and flipping over obstacles. Tim scrambles, lagging, after the hoard of vigilantes barrelling towards you. Tim tries to shout after his siblings but his voice is drowned out by raucous laughter and bickering.

You stand at the door, head haloed by the pale afternoon light as the sky catches fire, flecks of snow sparkling in your hair. You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as you sheepishly thank Alfred as he takes your coat.

Tim struggles to breathe an he genuinely doesn’t know if it’s because of his lungs, you, or the fact that of all his siblings, Babs was the one who got there first and Tim genuinely doesn’t know if Babs is there to hold off the gaggle of vigilantes or to scare you off. From the jovial grin wrinkling your features, Tim’s pretty sure Babs just gave you some blackmail material instead of putting you through the ringer- an equally scary outcome. For your part, you don’t look even slightly phased by the fact that Babs is in a wheelchair or even by the way she’s clearly sizing you up. All of this rolls off of you with an easy motion of your shoulders as you answer her questions in the most frustratingly oblique way based off of Babs’s expression. Tim can’t help the curve on his lip as you blatantly dodge another of Babs’s questions with a smile. You spot him, winking, and the tips of Tim’s ears flush.

Your cocky demeanor fades when a gaggle of batbrats crowd you; nervousness creeps into your form, ironing out your posture into something unnatural and defensive. “Is this a bad time?” You ask through a tight lipped smile. Babs glares at them but doesn’t make any effort to hide the satisfaction at your shaken demeanor. “Don’t mind them, Sweetie,” Babs says, patting your back and guiding you away from the gaggle. You shuffle awkwardly, trying to coax your spine back into a more natural curve.

“(Y/n)!” Tim manages between gasps for air. Making a person with non functioning lungs run has to be some sort of human rights violation. His voice is louder than he anticipated. He realizes, but the apprehension in his body flits away when you beam at him-a wide cheeky smile that has his body vibrating with delight. He made you smile like that, Tim thinks, heart swelling almost enough to soften the impact of the next few words. “Hey, Duckie!” you chirp tilting your face in a cute lopsided smile.

“Duckie?” Jason sniggers.

Duke’s face passess from confusion, realization, then amusement in a matter of three seconds.“Duckie? As in ‘quack quack’?” Duke asks, pretending to still be dumbstruck.

“Yes, Duckie, Tommy Terrific,” you say, the lopsided smile curving into a playful grin. The dumb nicknames earn you a loud, surprisingly nonthreatening, approving laugh from Jason who then says “We’ll keep those nicknames in mind” which just drags pained looks from both Tim and Duke. Dick and Damian on the other hand look absolutely delighted.

“(Y/n), tell them about the other nicknames,” Steph says, grinning savagely. Your eyes widen and you wrinkle your nose, mouth twitching from side to side, trying to pretend away the heat rising from your cheeks. “Not on your life, Stephie.”

“Aaaaaw! Not even for lil ol’ me?” Dick pouts, throwing his arms around you. The familiarity of the action has Tim bristling. “Pleeeeeaaase,” Dick whines; a smile hidden in your hair, “not even for Alfred’s cookies?” You make a noise caught between a laugh and a groan. “Hmmmm… maybe? Throw in some candy.”

“Deal.”

Tim blinks. “You’d betray me for sugar?”

“Cus I ain’t getting any while you’re sick,” you cackle, grinning along with Dick who looks way too pleased with the outcome of the conversation. Tim desperately wants to melt into the floor. Looking at all his siblings who are eagerly awaiting for the litany of nicknames, Tim cuts in. “Let’s just go watch that film.”

“What are we watching?” Cass asks, leaning to look over your shoulder, clearly shoving Dick out of the way. Dick does his best to not budge.

“What do you mean ‘we’?”

“We are under a communist regime, Timbo. We’re all watching it together,” Jason says, slinging Tim over his shoulder.

“Have a heart, Drake. We only want to spend family time together,” Damian says, somehow still looking imperious even from where Tim is dangling. A dull ache starts spreading across Tim’s like his skull is being squeezed.

“Hope you guys like Clue,” you say, fishing it out of your cornucopia of unhealthy junk food. “I figured you detectives would like a good mystery.” Dick snorts taking the disc from you and reading over the contents efficiently. “Bet you I can get the ending even before any of you.”

“No, you won’t,” Jason barks, setting off a long winded argument about who the best detective is.

“Didn’t you say you would eat me if I spoiled another mystery movie for you? Are you planning to eat my entire family?” Tim croaks quietly. You scrunch your nose, twitching your mouth four times to the left and four and a half times to the right. “Technically, what I said was ‘I’ll respectfully go back to juvie for cannibalism if you spoil another movie that night’,” you hiss low, trying not to draw attention to your conversation. Unfortunately for you, his siblings have good hearing.

“And this is different how?” Tim asks, this time not bothering to control his volume.

“You’ll never figure out the ending,” You say smiling innocently. Tim rolls his eyes and huffs a ‘we’ll see’. It doesn’t wipe the smile off of your face.

As it turns out, the Wayne Manor theater is less of a theater and more of a bean bag storage closet with a large screen. Jason tosses Tim unceremoniously into one of the random bean bags in front of the couch before gracefully pirouetting into the couch. You chuckle and continue your search for something to put your Bluray in, just now realizing that you should have probably just asked for their Netflix password or something. Alfred appears out of nowhere handing Jason and Cass each a bowl of buttery popcorn and scolding Jason about manhandling his brother in front of a guest. Jason looks unrepentant. No surprises there. With a swat on the back of Jason’s head, Alfred turns to you, gloved hands extended out to you. “I can take that."

“Oh… Uh thanks- Thank you,” you stammer. To your left, Tim snickers and your hand slip, somehow the blanket Babs handed you finds its way to Tim’s face. “Shut up, Ducktective. He’s practically your grandpa and I kinda wanna make a good impression,” you hiss, cheeks warming. Tim coughs, a little dumbfounded. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that you were nervous about this.

Tim checks if his brain is on straight before speaking. “Relax, you haven’t physically assaulted me or any of my family yet so you’re immediately at the top of Alfie’s list.” You open your mouth to speak then curl it into a frown, looking appalled and concerned. Apparently, his brain wasn't on as straight as Tim thought. "Am I going to have to fight your exes? At some point?"

"No!"

"Yes!" Steph says, handing you a red bean bag. Tim scowls at Steph as he watches the color drain from your face. She just shrugs and goes off to annoy Dick.

“Mr. Boddy?” Damian asks incredulously, reading the box summary again. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” you laugh, setting your bean bag next to the one Jason dropped Tim in. Damian rolls his eyes. “This is a stupid movie. Do people really consume this drivel?”

You scrunch your nose but don’t put too much heart into glaring. Thankfully, color is now returning to your face. “The movie hasn’t even started yet!”

“Relax (y/n), the tiny mutant sperm is just playing elitist,” Steph says, plopping next to Jason and eyeing his bowlful of buttery popcorn.

“As long as it isn’t as bad as the Happening-”

“Dude, you live in a city with Poison Ivy. That thing is pretty much a documentary,” Duke says hesitantly taking the spot between Steph and Cass.

"Please, for the love of Alfie, please, talk about something else," Dick whines, plopping a bean bag next to Tim. Jason’s face twists in confusions before his eyes light up and untwists into an expression with amusement. "Is it because of the-" Dick hits him square in the face with a pillow, all the while screeching "Think of the children!"

"Where, Dickface?" Jason ask, prompting Dick to point(jazz hands) at Damian who rolls his eyes. Jason does the same, looking younger than the toughened exterior suggested. "That's a gremlin, Dickface. Not a child."

"He is-"

"SHUSH! The movie is starting!"

You giggle, curling into Tim's side and placing your head in the crook of his neck where you usually like to put it. Tim's insides shiver from the contact and his hands automatically coil around you, pressing his nose into your hair.

"Jeez, her melons are big," Babs says flatly taking another handful of Dick's popcorn from Damian. Cass snorts and Tim feels embarrassment creep into his skin. He flicks his eyes to you, only to find you smiling into his side.

"They're almost as big as Dick's," you chuckle.

"Nah, Jason is bigger," Cass pipes.

You eye Jason openly which makes the large man cross his arms over his chest. "Huh, you're right," you note with more confusion than anything.

"Bruce has moobs too!" Jason protests, red-faced.

"Son, why?"

The chatter falls silent when the figure at the edge of the room settles itself into the large leather recliner in one corner of the room. You squint your eyes to distinguish its features from the rest of the shadows in the room; only to be greeted by the solemn features of Bruce Wayne. Your breath catches and you feel your skin jump twenty feet in the air. Everyone else in the room seems to have about the same reaction even as he pulls a lever to raise the foot rest. You all follow his movements with interest.

“Is Bruce trying to relax?” Duke whispers to Cass who shrugs in response. Steph rolls her eyes, reaching over Duke to try and snatch some popcorn from Jason who just raises his bowl higher. “Shhhhh, Duke, let the B man try to play human,” she says, snatching at the popcorn til the bowl just falls on Jason’s head.

“He’s trying I guess.” This draws a startled chuckle out of you that you try to press in Tim’s neck. The vibrations against his skin has him shivering.

“B, are you ok?” Dick asks. This makes Bruce’s features move in a slightly concerned fashion which in Bruce speak is very concerned. “Yes, why?”

“Ooooh, no reason, old man.” He turns to Babs. “Yeah that’s not Bruce. Five bucks says it’s a robot.” Babs snickers, grabbing a ten from her purse. “Ten says it’s an alien.” You twist to look at them, taking out a twenty. “Twenty says it’s just Mr.Wayne.” Jason sneers at you, taking your money. “You clearly don’t know the old man.”

“Can we please just watch this film in peace?” Bruce groans, running a hand over his face, finally looking more like the long suffering single dad of eight kids that he should be. Babs looks over her shoulder, slinging Bruce an absolutely disbelieving look. “Do you even know your children?”

“Yes, father, have you even watched us bond?” Damian asks, using his free hand to do air quotes for the word ‘bond’ while using the other to try and swipe some popcorn from Cass. It doesn’t work.

“That definitely isn’t Bruce,” Dick hisses, trying to shield his own bowl of popcorn from an irate Damian.

“SHHHHHH! I can’t hear the movie!”

“It’s definitely the butler,” Dick declares. Damian scowls, throwing a pillow at him which Dick catches with ease. “Grayson, the movie has barely started.”

“It’s definitely the butler. It’s gotta be. It’s always the butler.”

“That’s very offensive to Alfred, Dick,” Cass says, grinning. Alfred sniffs poshly in his own recliner. Dick recoils but Jason piles on. “Very classist of you, Dickiebird.”

Duke snorts. “Nah, I think he’s just saying it because Tim Curry was Pennywise the Clown.”

“Why would you trust a clown?”

“Oh my god, why are you guys comparing Alfred to a clown?”

“We are not!”

“This conversation is a trainwreck,” Tim groans into your hair. “Dunno, Tim, it sounds like a success,” you laugh, pressing closer. His eyes flick between you and his siblings. “You planned this.” You look up at him, failing to flatten a smile. “Nope.”

“I say it’s Ms. Scarlett,” Bruce says, rubbing his chin contemplatively.

“You’re just saying that cus she reminds you of Selina,” Tim huff, grinning and you’re half tempted to pinch his cheeks. Bruce cuts him a scathing look that has you shrinking; the grin on Tim’s face just broadens which just makes the playful scowl on Bruce’s face deepen. “Need I remind you who pays for the internet?”

“Alfred?” Tim asks, innocently.

“Careful Tim, B man might actually do it. Hell, he’ll probably do it if he finds out what you did last Thursday.”

“Do you mean the explosion on Fifth?” you ask, turning to Steph. Steph gives you a firm nod; in the corner of your eye, you can see Bruce arching a brow. Tim gapes at you looking absolutely gutted. “What happened to snitches get stitches?” Tim protests.

You shrug, grinning. “Sorry, Duckie, I stand by my cookie dealer. Who do you think sneaks Duke and me cheetos in Western Civilization? I stand by my fellow barbarian.”

“You know Duke?”

“I pay him to-”

“Shhhhh!”

“You guys are talking too!”

“At least, it’s movie related!” Damian hisses.

You throw up your hands with an exaggerated flail. “Fine!”

“I say it’s the shifty looking lady,” Jason declares, reaching over Duke and Steph to try and snatch some popcorn from Cass. You wonder why Jason doesn’t just snatch some from Alfred since he’s closer. You try to ask Tim but he just shakes his head at you. “Ms.Peacock?” Cass asks, shoving Jason’s face away with butter covered fingers. Duke tries to snatch a few kernels in the confusion only to get his hand swatted. “I think he means Mrs. White,” he says, waving his hand. “Yeah that one.”

“It’s the butler! It’s always butler!” Dick protests.

“I will fucking riot if it’s the butler!” Steph shoots back.

“It can’t be the butler.”

“Why not, Dami? He has motive.”

Damian rolls his eyes.“Gordon, why are you siding with Grayson?-” Babs opens her mouth to answer but Damain continues before she can get another syllable out “-nevermind. He doesn’t have as much motive as the rest of them. Besides, does he really look competent enough to hold a gun left alone with a knife?”

Tim raises his chin from your head. “Demon Spawn, your standards for butlers is too high. Alfred is-”

“You say this like you have plenty of references.”

“Oh, Tommy Terrific, Duckie here is a posh bastard,” Jason sneers ruffling Tim’s hair. From the way, some of his hairs stick up you could guess that he still had some butter in his hand. Tim makes a face of disgust; you try your best to help him with his hair. “Jay, you say that but you’re like Mr. I need the correct type of wood for my bookshelves,” Steph laughs. “Just because I’m not a slob like the rest of you walking disasters doesn’t mean I’m posh.”

“Yes, it does. You lived here. Yanno with Alfie,” Dick says, pulling out another pack of snacks he’d managed to snag from your bag. You’re not gonna ask at this point. Tim gives you a look which roughly translates to ‘I am very sorry for my trainwreck of a family’. You snort at him before turning towards his sibling. “I mean look at Cass. She’s still feral.” If looks could kill, the look Cass give you would melt your bones. Thankfully, Damian opens his mouth. “They’re all feral.” You have a sense that you’ve also been insulted. You hear Babs to your right laugh derisively. “You say this like you’re any less feral than the rest of us.”

“I am-”

“Are any of you still watching the movie?” Bruce asks and for the second time that night, your body tries to divorce your soul. You had almost forgotten that yes, you are watching Clue with the fucking Batman. You shift in your seat suddenly feeling a twinge of nervousness. Before the discomfort could nestle in you, Jason speaks up. “No, Bruce, we’re just watching Cass vacuum the popcorn into her stomach. What do you think?”

“You guys didn’t ask,” Cass says through a mouthful of popcorn knowing full well that’s a lie.

“How can any of you be watching it? All you’ve done is talk over the dialogue.” You almost laugh at how exasperated he sounds. Beside you, Tim just snickers and shakes his head.

Damian just looks at his father from his bean bag next to Dick. “Father, we can talk and listen. ” Dick, like the mature adult that he is, slaps his knee laughing. “I don’t think B is capable of that.”

“PREACH” was followed by a chorus of AMENs.

"Alfred, what have I done to turn my children against me?" Bruce asks, tiredly leaning back into his recliner.

"Master Bruce, how would you like me to list it?"

"Alfred not you too," Bruce groans, putting his hands in his eyes.

"Yeah! Alfie's on our side!" Jason cheers.

"Quite."

"Alfie is always the sensible one," Cass chuckles sensibly between bites. You hear varying noises of agreement and Bruce ages from suave debonair to extremely tired single dad.

"I assume Alfred is actually the boss here."

"Yeah, Bruce is actually on the bottom of the food chain here," Tim says. You tilt your head in contemplation. "Yanno that makes Batman so much less scary."

"B-man's just a giant softie," Steph chirps, slinging her legs over Duke and Cass's laps narrowly missing the nearly empty bowl of popcorn.

Dick turns to you winking. "Yeah, just give him the puppy eyes and he'll get you anything you want in 2 seconds flat."

"Dick…"

"It's true!"

"Even a carnival?"

"Can we please just watch the movie?" Bruce says, in an almost pleading voice.

"I wouldn't hold my breath, old man," Jason chuckles, earning a glare from both Bruce and Damian. "It's not like you know how to shut up, Todd."

"Sorry, I don’t speak gremlin."

"That's bull Jay!"

"MOVIE IS STILL GOING ON! SHUT YOUR CAKE HOLES."

“I TOLD YOU IT WAS THE BUTLER.”

“Yes, yes, it has been publiced and noted, Birdie,” you giggle into Tim’s side, shaking your head. He wraps his arm around you, pressing a kiss into your hair, winking at you. “Does it count?” Tim asks over his shoulder. A look passes between him and Cass. “I don’t think so,” she says grinning.

“It so does! It’s one of the endings,” Dick protests vehemently. Jason’s mouth flattens then curls into a grin. “By that logic, the old man is right too.”

Dick thinks for a moment, tapping his chin. “Well, we can’t have that.”

“Why not?” Bruce protests.

"I'm still sticking with the butler. I'm sorry this is the only logical conclusion."

"He wasn't even an actual butler you butter brain!" Steph protests, throwing a pillow at Dick.

"I'm sorry but can we address why you're all mounting a mutiny against me?"

"Teenage rebellion!" Dick answers.

"Chum, you're not even a teenager."

"Father's right. At most, Grayson is five years old," Damian pipes from beside Dick seemingly unaffected by his brother's pout.

"Alfred, you're going to have to check my blood pressure before patrol."

"Quite, sir."

“They’re all so dramatic just like you said,” you whisper into Tim’s shoulder.

“I AM NOT DRAMATIC”

“Ah, yes, because the pretty man pose is so pragmatic.” Damian deadpan.

"That was one time, you assholes!"

"Hey, what else did Timmy say?"

"Well he- Oh wait!" You fish out your phone and Tim snacthes it away faster than you can blink. "No-" cough "-you don't." Cough.

Jason snatches it from him, snickering at the photo of Tim kissing you on the cheek. You're pretty sure Tim has a matching photo with you kissing him on the cheek. "Nice lockscreen, (y/n)."

"Oh, you should see the homescreen!"

"No. Please don't. You might need eye bleach."

"Relax Space Cadet, it’s not that one."

"Ohohoho, what didn't you want big daddy bats to see? Haaa, Timbo?"

Tim turns every shade of red before settling on fire hydrant red. "None of your business!"

Bruce clears his throat, looking at a stupidly expensive watch. “It’s time.” Dick springs up, stretching and showing off. “Is it really that time already?” Steph asks in almost a whine. Duke and Cass take the opportunity to shove her off and sadly, she lands with a loud thud and a mangled curse. You wince but laugh unsympathetically which simply earns you a face full of dust covered popcorn. You frown at her and she grins at you as Jason hauls her up by her hoodie. “C’mon Blondie. Let’s leave the love birds alone.”

“It’s not like they’re actually gonna be alone. Alfie’s here. So is Babs.”

“I’m going back to my place. You people give me a headache.”

“You say that like you weren’t having fun,” Dick teases, walking after her.

“I’ll be down in the cave if you need me,” Alfred says waving at both of you. “Will do, Alf,” Tim yawns, nuzzling into your hair.

Cass pops her head back in. “Make sure Tim doesn’t do anything stupid,” She calls back. You grin, bright and wolfish. “Don’t worry! He can’t do me while he’s sick.” You hear Bruce choke in the hall and you just know that you’ll mentally kick yourself for that later. Luckily for you, Tim physically kicks you now. “What the hell?!” Cough. “Sorry, got caught in the moment.” You huff, trying to look a little sorry. Tim just glares more. “You’re not even close to sorry.”

“Ok. Yeah.”

“I have no idea why I love you sometimes.”

“My amazing personality?”

“Sure.”

“Love you too, Tim,” you chirp, kissing him. Tim’s lips feel hot after the quick peck and he pulls you closer. “I love you but I was pretty sure my family was gonna eat you alive.”

“They would have done it,” you hum, pausing before adding, “respectfully.”

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#tim drake imagines #tim drake x reader #Tim Drake #batfamily x reader #batfam #reader insert #dc fanfiction #dc reader insert #bruce wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #dick grayson #Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #batman #batfamily headcanon #batboys

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ri-ahhh · 4 years ago

Note

Can we have some sexy time with gray that stars out rough but ends up soft and cute🥺

I’m gonna make it a continuation of this concept bc low key it’s one of my faves and yk.. why not.

Also I was gonna try to finish this on my laptop so I could put the keep reading break so I don’t clog ppls dashes but tumblr never fucking works on there and I couldn’t do it :/ sorry

A/N: hi hello just finished writing this and it turned out to be garbage but I wanted to post something for the ppl asking. If you are one of those ppl I’m sorry for this haha truly it was just the best I could do for now.

***

For the first half of the ride home, Grayson’s hand doesn’t leave your thigh. You can feel the tension still brewing in him in the way his calloused fingers grip the soft, bare skin; in the heavy sighs he releases every few minutes and the sudden revs of the engine as he speeds down the highway.

His lingering frustrations at the situation that happened in the mall make you smile softly, and you interlace your fingers with the ones stroking your thigh. Eyes big and sympathetic, you bring the back of his hand to your lips. “Baby, relax,” your murmur against his skin quietly. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

Grayson shakes his head and glances at you as he pulls your joined hands into his lap. “I fuckin hate guys like that. Can’t believe he put his hands on you.”

“He touched you?” Ethan piped up from the backseat, voice incredulous. “Oh, fuck that. If that has been K...”

The short remainder of the car ride was filled with the twins loud, enthusiastic rants about douchebag chauvinistic men who have no respect for women. It warms your heart, makes your chest fill with pride at the thought of how good your man really is. You squeeze his hand and stroke his arm gently, dragging your nails up and down the veins popping out from the stress and anger he’s both somehow releasing, but also still carrying.

The three of you make it home, and Ethan is immediately hopping out of the car with his shopping bags, eager to see his girlfriend and show her what he had bought her while she had been out with friends. Grayson’s jaw is clenched as the two of you follow his brother inside, and you make your way immediately to his room; you think you know exactly what he needs to get rid of that last bit of well-intended machismo energy he’s got in him.

Sure enough, Grayson shuts the door behind him with a little more force than he really intended, tosses all the shopping bags he had carried in for you to the ground, and wraps those strong arms around your waist in all of two seconds of the door being locked. You giggle and let him hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and cupping his stubbled cheeks in your hands gently to bring your lips together.

He walks the two of you to his bed and lays you down as gently as he can while you’re still clinging to him, mouths never separating as he captures your lips over and over again in hot, relentless kisses. When your back hits the mattress, you moan softly and hitch your leg higher up his side, his hand sliding to your ass and grabbing a handful of it through your shorts.

“I need you,” he says gruffly between kisses, panting heavily. He squeezes your cheek again, and uses his grip to haul your hips closer to his while simultaneously lowering some of his weight onto you. You can feel the hard ridge of him against your center, and it makes you gasp. “Can I, please?”

“Yeah, baby,” you agree easily, almost as desperate for Grayson now as he is for you. He’s sexy and kind and good and you love him, and you imagine the scenario of some girl running her hands on those thick arms you love so much, or the swell of his abs over his shirt, and you realize the healthy possessiveness very much runs both ways. Your blood runs hot, and you slip your hands under his shirt to feel the rippling planes of his back. “Want you so bad.”

He growls, deep and primal, and you bite your lip as he sits up and whips his shirt over his head by the collar. It gets tossed blindly to the corner of his room, and you’re instantly reaching out to run your hands over all those muscles covered by soft, tan skin.

Grayson sighs and lets you indulge for a few moments, his lips quirking up at the corners for a quick second and ruining that sexy scowl as he watches you admire him.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. His big, warm hands cup your hips, and he shuffles down some as he slides your oversized shirt up so your stomach becomes exposed for him — supple skin that’s just begging to be kissed.

So he does. His lips are soft and a little wet from the kisses you had shared just a minute ago, but they’re hot and insistent as he makes his way up your torso. Goosebumps flare in their wake, and you shudder beneath his smirk. Grayson pushes your shirt up further, just beneath your bra now, fingers shifting grips from the dips of your waist to the ridges of your rib cage now.

You don’t need words to know what he wants, so you lift your arms overhead the second he bunches the shirt up past your tits. His tongue drags over your sternum once it’s thrown across the room, then he’s swiping it over the buds of your nipples peaking through the sheer mesh of your bra.

Your back arches up into him with a gasp, fingers delving into his thick hair as he grunts and tugs the cups of your bra aside to free your tits for him. Your nipples tighten even more, damp from his tongue and now completely exposed to the cool air of his room — not to mention, the way he’s looking at you right now has every nerve ending in your body excited.

His pretty hazel irises, usually so soft and comforting, are consumed now by the dark of his pupils, despite the warm sunlight shining through the window. Those smoldering eyes stay locked on yours as he ducks his head to suck your left nipple into his hot, wet mouth, his hand kneading your other breast roughly.

“Love your tits,” he huffs against you after a minute of making you writhe beneath him. His tongue trails to the center of your chest, and he nuzzles your cleavage, breathing in the sweet smell of your skin. His stubble scratches against the plush, delicate flesh there, but it’s a mere second before he’s switching breasts to give each the opposite treatment.

You lose his eyes when he shuts them to really absorbe the touch and taste of you, but you don’t mind when he smells so good and feels so familiar and uses those lips and tongue and fingers so fucking good. You whimper and clutch him even closer to you than he already is, perfectly content to have him suck at your tits for as long as he pleases. The feel of him big and heavy and warm on top of you is as relaxing as it is arousing, being so consumed by the sensations of him up top while his erection fits snugly against your pussy.

“Grayson,” you whisper desperately. He looks up at you, and you’re taken by the softness behind the desire in his gaze. He follows the tug on his hair you give to drag him up for a kiss, and you both sigh happily into one another’s mouths when they reconnect. It goes without saying that you could kiss this man forever.

You tighten your legs around his waist and and urge him to rock his hips into yours. Grayson obliges readily, a quiet grunt escaping his lips as he starts grinding into you. His hand returns to your ass, holding you against him for the perfect leverage while he sucks on your tongue and tries to find the right angle to put just the right pressure on your clit.

It’s like any moment of softness and slowness gives him time to remember what got the two of you here this afternoon in the first place, and the ravenous energy from before picks right back up. You’re definitely not complaining by the ebb and flow of everything; it only heightens your own desperation for him, to know he cares so much and wants you to the point of making you cum just from some heavy dry humping.

As if he can read your mind (or maybe you his), Grayson pulls away from the kiss and drags his free hand up your thigh, squeezes your waist, and punches your nipple on his way to grip your cheeks gently but firmly in those strong, calloused fingers. He makes sure you’re looking him dead in the eye again when he tells you in a deep, rumbly voice, “Wanna make you cum in these fucking shorts. Can you cum for me, baby?”

You nod as best you can in his grasp, shifting your head enough to slip his pointer finger into your mouth. You watch him watch you suck it, his hips pressing harder into yours as the pleasure and overall arousal turns up for both of you. His cheeks are flushed and his chain dangles between you, glinting in the sun and reflecting bright spots on the tan skin of his pecs.

A moan escapes you, vibrating around his finger before you add the middle one for a few moments, too. You let him push them down your tongue until the tips touch the back of your throat, and you pull them out with a slight gag and a seductive smile.

“Make me cum,” you murmur hotly, guiding his hand between your bodies and slipping it past your waistband — leaving the shorts with that little logo on the leg on, just as he requested. “I’m so close already, Gray. Please.”

Grayson moans himself and shifts his weight so you’re flat on your back and he’s hovering over you with a hand planted next to your pillow. He touches your pussy for the first time this whole afternoon just as you arch your back to reach beneath you and unhook your bra.

You fling the useless garment across the room and grab immediately onto his forearm by your head, the other clutching the sheets in attempts to ground yourself from the sudden surge in pleasure emanating from your clit. Grayson circles it a couple of times before sliding one, then two, fingers to the hilt.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking wet, baby,” he groans. You can only nod and moan, then cry out his name when he curls his fingers just right and finds your spot, like he knew right where to look and wanted to waste no time getting to it. He latches onto your neck, sucking a bruise into your pulse point while he builds that wave inside you. His fingers don’t pump in and out, but stay hooked on that spot that’s making you moan and whine, using his wrist to vary the pressure on it until you’re absolutely losing it, exploding on his hand with broken whimpers of his name.

You’re still high in the sky when he sucks his fingers in his mouth with an appreciative moan and tugs off your shorts finally, then his own, before crawling back on top of you. Naked together and still riding the lingering aftermath of that orgasm, you hum contentedly and accept the hot, desperate kiss he pulls you into.

“Wanna fuck you. Need to fuck you,” he mumbles against your lips, already reaching between you to rub the tip of his dick up and down your soaking wet folds. Even though you’re still sensitive and satisfied, almost nothing can bring you back to a stare of pure arousal like when he teases your hole like that — so close but not enough. It awakens this primal, incessant feeling of absolutely needing to be filled up, and you can’t wait anymore.

You thread your fingers through the back of his hair and arch your hips to encourage him to slip inside, which he finally does with a guttural groan.

“Fuckin give it to me, Gray,” you say once he has a steady rhythm built up. It’s not enough for either of you today, though, and you both know it. You need closer, hotter, harder, more.

Grayson looks wild, his hair sticking up in all directions from your wandering hands, eyes dark but bright, a thin sheen of sweat illuminating ever ridge and valley of muscles on his torso. He doesn’t give you much more time to look, however, as he hooks your knees over his elbows and leans down over your body.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he tucks his face against your own as he starts pounding, his balls slapping against you ass with every hard thrust. The angle is catching you just right and the sharp, pleasurable pain of his teeth sinking into your collarbone only brings everything to a new level. His quiet but audible grunts and moans float right to your ear, the best sounds in the world as he delivers exactly what you asked for.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whine, digging your nails into the sinews of his back. Grayson keeps driving into you with renewed purpose, absolutely set on getting you there again with nothing more than his cock.

“Yes, baby, please,” he begs, groaning loudly when he feels you start to clamp down on him. “That’s it... all over my dick... pussy feels so goddamn good.”

You should be sleepy and beyond satisfied at this point, but his heated words make you want to absolutely ravage him. With that, there’s the glow only a couple of amazing orgasms from the man you love can make you feel that fills your chest. So when you’re able to voluntarily move your limbs again, you push back on his chest so he has to stop sucking sweet little kisses into the collumn of your neck. He looks at you a little confused, but you just smile gently and keep putting pressure against him until he ends up on his back.

You settle between his tattooed legs and admire the way his dick lies flat against that solid tummy of his, glistening with your juices. Your mouth waters at the sight, and you take him in your hand to guide his throbbing length between your kiss-swollen lips.

You suck your cum off his skin, humming in satisfaction while you watch him lay back with one hand behind his head and the other petting your hair gently.

“Love your dick,” you say before sucking the leaking tip into your mouth. “Only want yours, baby. Just made me cum so hard...” you trail off with a wanton moan, then get to work sucking him off for real. His eyes fall shut and his fingers work deeper into the loose strands of your hair for a firmer grip. You roll his balls in your palm, pulling out all the tricks you know he loves to get him there as well as he did for you. “Mine.”

He guides you deeper with the hand on your head, never pushing more than he know you’re willing to take; he loves the tangible feeling of that sweet mouth sucking him off, taking him as far down your throat as you can. You make it sloppy for him, letting all the drool and saliva coat his shaft until it’s dripping down his balls. You lift off him with a gasp and massage the slick into his skin before ducking down and sucking them one at a time into your mouth for a tongue bath while you jerk his dick off above you.

You can hear the hitch in his breath, see the short heaves of his chest when you follow the pressure he pulls on your hair in silent request to get you to suck him again. All signs point to him being about to bust, but you want more than his cum in your mouth.

You hurry to mount him, smiling when you catch his look of surprise. He moans as you sink down on him, and you pick up his hands to interlace your fingers for intimacy and leverage.

“Cum inside me,” you tell him, bouncing on him so your tits jiggle for him.

Grayson watches as long as he can, holding out until his eyes roll back and his fingers dig into the backs of your hands as he fills you up with deep, drawn-out moans. You grin in satisfaction, happily obliging him when he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you down so your chests are flush together.

You hum as he comes down and pepper kisses across his jaw, his nose, his closed eyes. Any bit of that handsome face you love so much that you can reach with your lips gets a sweet peck. Grayson sighs and lets you keep going until he’s gripping your hips and lifting you off his softening cock.

“Sorry if I got too caveman,” he mumbles tiredly after a few moments. “I just love you.”

You shake your head and bury your grin into his neck. “No need to apologize. Actually, I can’t wait to go back to that store with you. I still want those leggings.”

“Fuck off.”

#this is def one of the worst things ive written in a while #pls feel free to ignore it #i might try to rewrite eventually i just didnt think i could do #better than this at this point #ugh sorry #dolan twins #grayson dolan #blurb #g blurb

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katnissmellarkkk · 4 years ago

Text

Okay, here we go! Imma do my liveblog of The Hunger Games, Chapter One, for #THGagain :

I’ll put my thoughts underneath the cut so I don’t clog up the dash 🥳

Okay but right off the bat, Katniss says her mattress cover is rough 🥺. I don’t know, this just made me sad all of a sudden.

So okay, but the fact that Prim had a bad dream and climbed in with their mother? I don’t know if that indicates that Prim still sees their mother as a source of comfort whereas Katniss can’t let herself feel the same way or if it’s just because she didn’t want to wake Katniss.

Maybe it’s supposed to be that Prim is too naive to understand that their mother is mentally fragile? Since in Mockingjay, she says “I know there’s only so much mother can hear,” or something like that, as a way to prove she’s not a little kid anymore sooo. I don’t know. Just some thoughts.

Katniss is shady towards mama right off the bat 🤣. Katniss is shady no matter what though. It’s what makes her narration sound like a teenage girl.

If Katniss is so anti-social though, who’s telling her her mother was once beautiful?

As a cat lover, I take offense to Katniss’ insults to the poor one eyed furball 😭.

So coal miners are also women? I suspected as much but I didn’t realize it was explicitly stated? So if Katniss’ life had gone differently, would she have become a coal miner?

So none of the houses in Twelve get electricity outside of a couple hours a night? Or just in the Seam?

I always forget that Katniss had nightmares even before the games 😔😔😔. Nightmares of her father “being blown to bits.” She has a vivid way with words.

Her father made her bow 🥺🥺. I knew that. I just thought I should mention it again. She uses the bow her father handmade throughout the series 🥺.

Also she says Peacekeepers turn a blind eye to “the few of them who hunt”. A few is more than two. Who else besides Katniss and Gale go hunting?

I like that she randomly starts mumbling to herself 🤣🤣🤣

Once upon a time, Katniss was outspoken apparently. But she mentions that she has to hold her tongue even at home because Prim may repeat her words. I don’t know why, but Prim seems immature for twelve years old. At twelve, in today’s society, you’re going into sixth grade. A sixth grader should know how to keep a secret or hold her tongue.

Gale says she never smiles but in the woods but isn’t that the only place they really spend time together? 🤣

“I kind of liked that lynx but I liked the money I got for it’s pelt more” 😂😂😂

An arrow inside bread. How fortuitous 😭😭😭

I do love that Katniss’ first introduction of Gale is “he could be my brother”

“But we’re at least not that closely related” 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

“Katniss, get off your cousin”

Even though the merchant class is smaller

Meaning they’re even more inbred

And Katniss is half merch-

Okay I’m done with this line of thinking 🤭😅

So backwoods 🤣

So did Mrs. Everdeen’s parents disown her? Or what? Do they still own that apothecary shop? Does Katniss occasionally walk by her grandparents in the town square? Like I’d like more context here, Suz 🙃

Aww, I always feel so bad for Katniss when she talks about her mother abandoning her 😭😩🥺

“But to be honest, I’m not the forgiving type” me either. Me either 🤧.

This may be why I so closely relate to her when she’s angry.

And why when people in the book say she needs to be more forgiving (ala Haymitch) I’m like “no”

I’m sorry but on second glance (more like 8th glance because I’ve read this chapter since I was 16) it’s so obvious Gale was hitting on her here 😅.

She’s oblivious 🤣🤣🤣

As she should be 😆

So later on, in the second book at least, Katniss definitely has some high respect for Hazelle Hawthorne. But here it seems to be like she’s implying Hazelle and her own mother are useless without her and Gale, and like they wouldn’t be able to provide for themselves. Maybe Hazelle just wasn’t fleshed out to Suzanne when she wrote the first book, the same way the love triangle you can tell if you look is sort of just tossed in there in the first book too? Anyways, just a thought.

That line about Prim being the only person Katniss is certain that she loves is sweet (it’s actually one of my favorite lines in the series) but it’s also so shady at the same time 😅😅😅. Like girl, you’re not sure if you love your mother or even your best friend (in a platonic way)?

Katniss makes a point in mentioning it took a long time for her and Gale to become friends. And I feel like that has been simplified a lot along the way, but it never really sounded to me like Katniss and Gale were besties for as long as most people think. The movies are a lot to blame for this, I know.

I don’t actually think Katniss is truly jealous here of the other girls wanting Gale? I feel like if she were she would have unconsciously insulted the school girls who were into him instead of just outright saying she was jealous, just not for romantic reasons. But who knows 🤷🏼‍♀️.

It was already mentioned earlier but I think Suzanne made a continuity error here, when Gale and Katniss mentioned fishing at the lake. The lake is a place Katniss explicitly mentioned in Catching Fire, to be private between her and her father. She even specially said she never took Gale there. I feel much better about my own writing continuity errors now.

Okay, both Katniss and Gale are so dumb. I would never prepare a feast for after the reaping. They’re just jinxing themselves. I have OCD really bad no one come for me.

I like how The Hob is a black market that’s literally just sitting in broad daylight 🤣🤣🤣.

Katniss just referenced being attacked by dogs... um I’m sorry, do we have no fear of rabies in this universe? 😭😭🙃🙃😐😐😅😅

Katniss : “me and the mayor’s daughter aren’t friends, we just hang out all the time at school, eat lunch together, sit by each other and are always partners. But weren’t not friends.” 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

I like the mention of hair ribbons for the rich girl. This is just the fic writer in me seeping into my reading.

Gale and Madge’s little dispute ...

I see why they get shipped together 😅. They’re both just taking swipes at each other here.

Awww, Katniss sticking up for Madge, even though Madge is the privileged one 😭. Katniss has such a pure heart.

The entire point of the Madge/Gale interaction though was just to set up the class divide explanation in Katniss’ head to the reader.

But my Peeta centric heart also picks up on the comments in Katniss’ head of how unlikely it is to be chosen at the reaping when you’re a town kid.

In other words, Peeta had a slim to none chance of being chosen and still was.

Now I think of it, so was Prim...

That was just an unlucky reaping for the kids without tesserae 🙃

Also it reminds me of every fic I ever read that mentioned a conspiracy in the reapings and how the kids aren’t actually chosen at random but anyways I digress

I feel Gale though, with the whole idea of knowing something isn’t this person’s fault and there’s nothing they could do but still being so angry at them because it isn’t fair that you have to suffer and they don’t.

My anger issues are really showing 😅😅😅.

Honestly though, if Katniss is saying Gale on a normal day is rational about the class divide not being merchants faults, then clearly his issues with Peeta later on really were just of jealousy and not because he was a merchant vs Seam.

I just feel like I’ve seen that around and I’m not really convinced

In my interpretation of the character, Katniss’ reasons for not sharing in Gale’s rage comes from exhaustion after a lifetime of powerlessness. Some people (re: females more often) just get worn out about the things they cannot change and can’t even let it get inside their brain because there’s nothing they could do about it.

I mean, she is a more understanding person than Gale but I feel like so much of her character is already so tired right from chapter one.

Okay, just a pointless rambling thought

“Where something pretty” these children are so shady 🤣🤣🤣 that’s a line I would say though

The fact that her like 42 year old mother still fits in a dress she wore at like 20 is really a testament to how hungry they are 🤧🤧🤧

Okay but I’m not trying to pick on her mother, but when they were starving, why did either she or Katniss sell the fancy clothes from her apothecary days? I’m nitpicking I know. I’m a nitpicker.

Also good for Katniss trying to forgive her mother.

God knows how hard it is for me to try and forgive people.

Literally, God knows.

I like that Katniss didn’t disagree with Prim saying she’s beautiful, just that she doesn’t usually look this way 😂😂😂.

I just know my sister wouldn’t let me not take tesserae if this was us. She’d be like “you’ll be fine, four entries? Please. We can have more food for an entire year, don’t be selfish.” 😅😅😅

I feel like noting that Katniss and Prim’s age gap isn’t that significant? Four years? That’s not that large. Not even at 12 and 16.

They herd these children off like they’re .... pigs going to a slaughter... 🤭🤭🤭

Katniss casually stating “I could be shot on a daily basis” 😐😐😐

Katniss and Gale agreeing they’d rather be shot than starve is honestly so sad but lowkey sounds like something two teenagers would say. They should have put dialogue like this in the movies.

I didn’t even remember District 12 has 8,000 people.... why’d I think they only had 3,000????

I need to update some of my fics with this information

Katniss just said “televised by the state”. I’ve never heard her call any region a state before?

I like that Katniss calls Effie’s grin scary and white, because tons of people (i.e me) whiten our teeth in today’s society. And to Katniss and probably all of Twelve that’s creepy. I think it’s weird to Europeans too but l digress.

Also do the people in this district brush and floss, they never seem to mention it in the books, ya know?

Honestly the idea of the hunger games sounded cooler without Songbirds and Snakes telling us it was just some dumb guy’s idea that no one ever thought would come true.

Aww, sugar is a delicacy 🤧🤧🤧

I knew already that but lemme fully feel that sentiment for a moment okey

Umm I’m sorry, did Mayor Undersee just casually state Lucy Gray Baird’s name every year and we never knew it? Did Snow just allow this? Seems suspish

Also the idea of Katniss being her distant relative and hearing the name and not knowing the connection... and yeah, anyways. I got wayyyy ahead of myself and off track sorry

Why would Haymitch hug Effie? I’m sorry, but Hayffie having a secret affair at some point in all the years they worked together seems more likely than I thought.

I mean, Katniss never mentions Haymitch hugging anyone besides her and Peeta when they just almost died, are about to die or that one time Katniss was sobbing because she thought Peeta was gonna die.

You know what though? I like that at this moment, when the name is about to be announced, Katniss worried about herself. She spends so much time worrying for her sister, babying her sister, mothering her sister, she deserves ten seconds of worrying for her own safety.

Of course, said sister is the one chosen. Ironic considering the whole encounter with Madge.

Okay, I think that concludes my thoughts for chapter one of The Hunger Games!

#thgagain #I’m not tagging anything else because this is so long I’m so sorry if anyone tries to read this mess 😅😅😅😅😅🤧🤧🤧🤧

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halzore · 4 years ago

Text

No Filter

Characters: The Bad Batch, Crosshair, Crosshair x Reader

Note: So I am sitting here, drinking a hot choccy, feeling sorry for myself as I live in a state of annoying sickness (not corona tho). So to make myself feel better, lets see how the batchies (namely, one snarky Crosshair) would deal with you now that you are sick, and done with it. This one is pretty short and sweet, but thats not a bad thing :)

Tags: @a-lil-perspective (This taglist is open, if you would like to be alerted when another sporadic fic is uploaded feel free to flick us an ask or message)

Contains: Very mild cursing

You pulled your heavy eyelids open as the persistently annoying sound of your alarm pulsed through your brain. An uncoordinated hand stretched out from your cosy covers, trying to rid the room of the obnoxious ringing.

You let out a guttural grumble as you pulled yourself up into a sitting position. You took inventory of how you were feeling:

Head: clogged

Eyes: Sore, very watery

Ears: Full, cursing that ridiculous alarm

Throat: on fire and making sure you knew about it.

The world was spinning as you clambered ungracefully out of your bed. Curse this stupid illness that seemed to have made its home inside of you, you just wanted a goddam cup of caf.

With your blanket wrapped around you head and a grumpy look set on your face you hobbled outside to the Havoc Marauder’s caf machine.

“Oh don’t you look like a ray of sunshine.” Crosshair’s sly voice mocked you from the corner of the room.

“Don’t try it Cross.” Your gravelly tone was full of warning, daring Crosshair to push you. He stood up from where he had been sitting and polishing his rifle.

“What’re ya gonna do, cough on me,” You rolled your eyes and brought your attention back to making your caf. “Because newsflash sweetheart, us clones are immune to all your puny nat-born illnesses.”

Crosshair was leaning against the doorway directly behind you. The caf machine beeped and you brought the hot mug in between your hands. Blanket still around your head, you fixed your gaze onto Crosshair, your red, bloodshot eyes boring into his brown ones.

“Hmm, it’s a shame the Kaminoans didn’t make you immune to assholery, because here we are.” Your face was blank, Crosshair began squaring up to you. You pushed your way through his supposedly intimidating stance in the doorway and moved towards the cockpit.

The hydraulics on the door of the cockpit hissed as you made you way into the room. Hunter and Tech were in the seats up the front, Wrecker at the back, bench-pressing the gonk. Hunter glanced casually over his shoulder to you. He double took at your dishevelled state, his eyes widening at the furious Crosshair bearing down on your position from the hall.

“What the hell happened to you.” Hunter face was now agape at the almost comical scene unfolding before him.

“I’m sick, he’s a jerk.” You jabbed a finger over your shoulder at the smouldering sniper behind you. Your statement sparked the curiosity of Wrecker, who discarded the Gonk droid to the side and enveloped you in a big hug. “Woah, big guy, too much movement.” He put you down apologetically. Crosshair was stood in the doorway absolutely seething.

“I am not a jerk.” Crosshair was fuming, Hunter was trying to restrain a grin and Tech had shifted his attention from the dash of the ship to you, the little red record circle flashing on his visor.

“Oh no!” The sarcasm was absolutely dripping off your words. “The toothpick’s pride has been hurt.”

A stifled laugh escaped Hunter as Crosshair had to be restrained by Wrecker, Crosshair letting out the most blood-curdling snarl. You stood in the middle of the room, sipping your caf, letting the hullabaloo die down around you. The silence gave way to your next statement.

“Anyway, I came in here to ask for the day to rest.” You went back into business mode. “I feel like death reincarnate and I need to sleep it off.”

“I can get you some meds?” Tech offered, you gave him your thanks and he scurried away to get the medkit. You and Hunter began to converse about your predicament, you asked not to be disturbed and if they could do without you for the various tasks today.

All matters had been sorted and with the mug still clutched in your hands and your blanket still wrapped around you head you marched out of the cockpit, stopping before Crosshair on you way out.

“I told you not to test me.” The indifference behind your gaze infuriated Crosshair further. You kept walking down the hall until you reached your quarters.

You placed your cup down, wrapped yourself up like a burrito and then let your heavy eyelids give in to rest.

#crosshair x reader #bad batch x reader #drabble #halzore writes #clone wars imagine #star wars imagines

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catbountry · 4 years ago

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Glancing over some of my older essays on politics, I’m kind of struck how, despite them not being written that long ago, I feel like I come across as a dumbass, or at least like somebody who thinks they’re much smarter than they actually are. And it’s weird, because most of my views are roughly the same; rather, it’s that I feel the way that they’re articulated comes across as too... I don’t know, smarmy? Smug, maybe? Lacking nuance. Blunt. Like I’m talking down to people. Obviously, this was never my intention, but it’s weird how something that was written while in my early 30′s somehow makes me wince a little... as I rapidly approach being smack-dab in the middle of my 30′s. God, I’ve been in my 30′s for almost 5 whole years now, fuck, where does the time go?

I think being able to come out of the other side of the Trump presidency in one piece has kind of helped add some much-needed perspective, at least for myself. I think the hypothesis that a lot of people who voted for Trump were desperate for some kind of change was proven correct when he failed to be re-elected due to his bungling of COVID, which, funnily (or not) enough, he almost could have looked like he was doing the right thing when he initially wanted to close the U.S. borders... except he’d been trying to restrict travel and close borders so often that of course nobody took such a suggestion seriously. And even if they had? Rich people still would have brought it over, because as we all know, rich people can just get away with all kinds of shit. Of course, once it actually hit, Trump really couldn’t handle the idea of looking weak at all, so instead, it was downplayed, joked about, not taken seriously, even though he’d been briefed that it was going to be really, really bad. And when he got it, and in private thought he was going to die? Well, once he beat it, of course he had to say it wasn’t so bad... even though it killed almost a thousand times more people than the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Most of them were seniors. I think that, as well as a general fatigue and disappointment over the lack of swamp-draining from those who weren’t fanatical devotees, probably sealed his fate. I admit, I wasn’t very sure Biden really had much of a chance for a long time... until COVID happened. But hey, at least we got our stimmy from Trump, right lads?

I’m still fully convinced that Trump never intended to win, and that his run was done purely for ego and financial gain, but his ability to effortlessly bait the media, as well as his unexpected exposing of the sham we all knew presidential elections to be, wound up rocketing him to success. Trump will no doubt go down as one of the most successful conmen in American history, one so slick he wound up conning his way all the way into the White House. The whole thing was like if The Producers was a presidential campaign, fascism included. Granted, I don’t think Trump was ever a true fascist; I think he wanted to be a dictator, but the actual job of being President was a drag. The cult of personality he accrued, however, was the biggest source of narcissistic supply that he’d ever experienced in his entire life. Hell, just being the literal President, the most important person in the entire fucking world, is a hell of a high that I don’t think he’ll ever really be able to reclaim. Trump’s going to be chasing that dragon for the rest of his life. Having “President” in front of your name is a lot nicer than actually, you know, having to be the President. I mean, look at how quickly Obama went gray. A lot of people are convinced Trump will run again in 2024, and I don’t doubt it, but unless something happens that completely throws us for a loop, I don’t see him being able to recreate the, er, “magic” of 2016. Everyone getting to see that, not only was his fanbase capable of having embarrassing public meltdowns just like the le epic triggered snowflake lib Hilary supporters, but that their meltdowns were even more embarrassing, and that they all looked like a bunch of fucking English soccer hooligans during the Capitol siege... well, I think that’s going to put off the swing voters, as well as the moderate Republicans.

Also, that Twitter knock-off founded by Trump’s aide, Gettr, being flooded by gay furries posting Sonic the Hedgehog foot porn? Feels like classic 4chan-style raiding. I approve. It almost feels like we’re healing, even if it’s just a little bit.

But what the fuck did we even learn from all this? What did I learn from this?

I don’t know. It feels like over the time I’ve been on Tumblr, what was once SJW became woke, and being woke has become very normal; so normal, in fact, that fucking massive corporations that use slave labor overseas will change their Twitter icons to rainbow every June because The Gays have become a safe, marketable demographic. On one hand, it’s nice to know that, at least in what I guess is considered the western world, LGBT people are more accepted now than they ever have been. On the other... god, it feels so cynical, doesn’t it? This is all very stream of consciousness, here. I don’t write very much on here since, surprise surprise, Tumblr’s been kind of dead since the porn ban. I still see people post, but it used to be that I couldn’t refresh my dash without seeing dozens of new posts. Now it feels like I refresh my dash and I’d be lucky to see a new post there an hour later. This is why I’m on Discord more. It feels like I have more productive conversations than I ever could on Tumblr or Twitter. Twitter is just... god. It’s like all the worst parts of Tumblr without the parts that made it fun aside from a few memes.

Sorry, I got off track there. The point I was going to make before is that, while I am still very firmly anti-censorship, I’ve managed to put myself in a position where it no longer feels like the stakes are so high. I can relax. I don’t have to feel like I’m on the defense the whole time as somebody grills me over some slip-up. I don’t use Twitter that much. When I do post something in response to somebody, I feel like I instantly regret it. I posted in response to some dumbass spreading a rumor that 4chan’s favorite Simpson’s meme about Sneed’s Feed and Seed is secretly ableist, and I got a response from some dude with an Umaru-chan avatar telling me how he’s proudly racist because he and his friends call each other slurs? Like bro, you’re posting cringe, you’re going to lose subscriber-

I don’t know what I’ve learned yet. Maybe that social media sucks and that chatrooms with friends are the superior way to communicate online. I tried out Telnet recently to go into some random IRC, that was neat. It just feels nice to not have to get into a fucking argument every fucking day over shit that doesn’t matter as much as people thinks it does, to not have to hear about every fucking time the President sneezes or farts. It’s not that there’s no longer anything to worry about; there is. I’d really like to see fellow lefties go after the handful of massive corporations that control the majority of the online experience, who censor not just all the racist white dude grifters in suits who all look suspiciously similar to one another, but us as well. I want to see us raise a bigger stink about the web being santized, sterlized, and gentrified to be friendlier to corporations who only want your precious data and eyeballs. Maybe without the constant distraction of Bad Orange Man, we could make that happen. Maybe.

Or maybe fucking Dream will breathe again and all the fucking children will piss their pants and clog up Twitter, fuck these kids, get off my internet, GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

#not fan fiction #political bullshit

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zhuhongs · 4 years ago

Text

Since rewatching the guardian drama after reading the novel has made me mad about how bad and good both of them are I am Obligated to write out a list of what I think the perfect merger btw both versions of canon are. This will be in list format otherwise I’ll end up writing like 6k words again.

TLDR: the genre stays as supernatural from the novel and not Sci fi, bc that was rlly not fleshed out well. Shen Wei is a ghost king, and all the dixingren are ghosts or demons like originally intended. The ghost race naturally exists and wasn't born from kunluns shoulder fire or anything. They just exist separate from humans. Not all ghosts are former humans, some people are just born as ghosts, like Shen Wei. Zhao Yunlan has the guardian whip and all the cool stuff that comes with the Guardian order. Overall, i’d keep the novel’s plot and relationship progression and ending without the backstory. Instead the backstory is a merger of both canons. From the drama I’d keep the characterization and themes as well as like half the extra cases and omit the other half.

I’ll be elaborating much further on my ideal backstory and other stuff under the cut bc the rest is 1.5k and I don’t wanna clog the dash

Okay SO In my ideal backstory there are two timelines just like the drama but the mythology of the book. The god Kunlun is actually zyl that went back in time and became a god. But the one that went back isn’t the current Zhao Yunlan. There has to be an original timeline where the god Kunlun never existed. Thus the great seal nor the separation of the three realms don’t exist either. Zhao Yunlan must go back in time to become a god, meet Shen Wei in the past, and create the current timeline where the separation exists but isn’t perfect. The current timeline is the one that the majority of the series takes place in.

In the original timeline, Zhao Yunlan is just some dude living in a world where ghosts, fairies, and all other beings just live in a giant free for all and it's kinda just a mess.

Like there’s government in modern context and all and all races live with each other but there's constant tension. ZYL works at some equivalent of the SID (same staff and side characters, but novel vers. Lin Jing is a monk, CSZ a zombie, etc) to protect people and all that and their job is rather hard. One day encounters the thousands year old ghost king Wei (who isnt shen wei yet bc zyl gave him that name in the future) who works alone as like a rouge cultivator of sorts. He lives on the surface undercover as a professor still bc he’s trying to not catch Yezun’s attention but does all the stuff he normally does as Heipaoshi. The two ally together for a case and bc they both have the same goals of getting all races to live in peace. At current, there are forces working together to decimate the human race, all lead by Yezun

As they work together they become closer and all that. Shen Wei tells him about how he was unable to prevent the great war 5 thousand years ago and neither could the gods so he’s spent the past 5 thousand years trying to make up for it. As they search for ways to stop Yezun, they gather the 4 hallows and learn how to use them to manipulate time so ZYL can go into the past and stop the great war and separate the three realms (living, dead, ghost). Shen Wei wants to go back with him but he can’t because he was alive all those years ago so if he goes back it will create a paradox. ZYL promises he’ll find Shen Wei in the past and create a timeline where they could be together in peace (that is the current timeline)

When goes back he becomes the god kunlun because there needed to be a new god born at the time to prevent the war. Also this time traveller looked promising to Nuwa, Fuxi, and Shennong. And I know in the guardian universe gods are usually born and ppl don’t become gods. EXCEPT this can happen when a god passes on smth from their body onto them bc that did happen in the novel with Kunlun making shen wei a demigod. And since fu you and ma gui are supposed to be gods Nu Wa and Fuxi I think that when they die, they should make ZYL a god and that's how this stuff happens.

So like ZYL explains to the gods the time he came from and how he wants to save everything and they make him a god and he works to save everything just like he did in the drama but this time with the novel plotline. During this time he meets young Shen Wei (he’s still like a hundred or so years old) and they get close and all the stuff from the backstory happens. He gives him his name, all that good stuff. The entire time doesn’t let him know that he’s from the future or that his real name is ZYL. He just poses as kunlun.

The two of them alongside the other gods (who still die at the times they do in the novel) work together to end the war and establish the great seal and set up the cycle of reincarnation, per the current timeline. Although the seal and cycle of reincarnation aren’t perfect. Gods can’t reincarnate, and ghosts still don’t have souls. And just like the novel, doing all of this kills ZYL bc it takes a lot of energy to create the seal even though it isn’t perfect.

Shen Wei of course doesn’t want ZYL to die and zyl says it's alright because he fixed the timeline so there must One day they will meet again and ZYL reveals the truth about the timeline to shen wei before he dies. This becomes the promise that Shen Wei mentions to meet again. Before he dies, ZYL gives him the shoulder fire as a memento ( i still like the candy wrapper necklace deal but i’ll take this too. Maybe both.. The pendant is still just rlly cool.. Gay ppl)

Shen Wei knows gods can’t enter the cycle of reincarnation and still makes the deal with Shennong to strip Kunlun of his godhood and let him reincarnate. This sets us into the novel timeline where isn’t allowed to meet any of zyl’s reincarnations before he becomes zyl otherwise he will die and also fuck up the timeline. The same 5 thousand years of pining still ensue bc Gay Ppl and i love making Shen Wei suffer but he doesn’t have the shrine room thing bc i think thats weird and yea.. Bad.

In the meantime Shen Wei does a lot of things mostly just protecting the great seal and working for Hell to keep the peace but still does other stuff. He still watches out for ZYL’s reincarnations but doesn’t do much besides make sure they don’t die a premature death. They meet again finally at the beginning of the series and the timeline resumes like canon. And that's my master plan that merges both drama logic and novel logic while making a much better timeline. (I hope that makes some sense)

Da Qing is still Kunlun’s pet cat and important. Novel backstory applies to him. And I already mentioned him kinda but as for Yezun (Gui Mian in the novel) his deal is similar as in the drama but just a ghost. And he is a big player in the great war, he thought Shen Wei abandoned him as a kid but they were just separated. Shen Wei doesn’t know it's him till the end of the war and couldn’t stop him in the OG timeline and vows to bring him to justice and make amends. Shen Wei continuously tries to explain things to him but he just won’t listen and is imprisoned in hell bc yk… war criminal stuff and yeah he’s the main antagonist trying to break the great seal bc he’s still made about the past. Idk. Yezun wasn’t well written in the novel OR the drama so like… honestly he just needs to be completely rewritten and I don’t care enough about that. He can just be a weak villain idk

the drama characterization stays the same for everyone else bc found family go brr. However for Lao Chu i… hmm… i think he should still be a zombie but the reason he killed someone should be related to his brother. I like that addition and then shen wei realized his sentence was unjust and exempted him. i like that storyline merger. bc the brother thing and him admiring Heipaoshi was drama only. in the novel lao chu just murdered some kid for a rlly whatever reason.

uhhh in terms of the cases… id make adjustments to most of them. i think the li qian case should be like the drama bc the novel just had her as a murderer and it was boring.

For the mountain river awl one was fine… novel version was funnier and more interesting action wise tbh… rip zyl and his exorbitant flirting. uhhh the whole reveal that shen wei was the soul reaper thing was kinda… ehh in the novel but i did love the comedy of afterwards Shen Wei pretending he went into cardiac arrest when he actually just… has no pulse bc he's a ghost.

ID KEEP THE WORTH IT SCENE AND RAIN SCENE… THOSE FUCK SO HARD… I love the drama for adding those every damn day. the novel version of zyl losing his sight sucked and was sooo boring. Keep the drama version on that.

also id keep dr. cheng. i'm very pro dr. cheng and her friendship with shen wei it adds so much to his character imo. keep the fruit seller man and his wife for the merit brush..omg it adds SO MUCH the way the drama did it.. like the drams build up with the novels pace of that arc.. mwah. it felt like it dragged a bit in the drama but if it went faster and without the hospital ep and with sha ya (sorry sha ya) that would've been so good. tho keep novel version of da qings memory loss and lao li. that was rlly impactful.

id say keep some of the cases like the mirror one, the eyes doctor one, etc. just to like.. yk have more to fill in general.. novel pacing but drama characterization without the bs that wasn't fully realized. and novel ending ofc. And that’s it!!

I hope most of this makes some amount of sense but it probably doesn’t. In my head it all tracks but like ik most of u don’t know anything about the novel so this sounds like gibberish. Also I know this would literally never happen but this is MY ideal merger of the two canons that I feel compelled to expand on for some reason. Anyways, as io said,, we need to rebuild guardian. Like literally let me and the mutuals write Guardian and it will be 500 times better.

#🐌.txt #镇魂 guardian #as always... if anyone wants to ask me any questions abt this or guardian in general... pls do.. my mind goes brrrrrr #guardian meta

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tomurasprincess · 4 years ago

Note

Even though my favorite smut of all times is Masked Deception, that's not the one that immediately comes to mind or sticks in it when I think of you. I think of "Press Start" and "Wraith's Touch". (I had to go through your masterlist to find the names in order to mention them. And be prepared for my long comments)

"Press Start" was either the first or second fic by you that I read. The beginning and ending will forever stay in my head and amaze me. It's been in there ever since I read it. There are sometimes where my mind wanders and I either think about good writing on tumblr and or all the smut I've read and I think about that beginning and ending each time. The "Player Select. Two players. Searching for Player Two..." and the ominous and impending yandere feeling that gave. I can't even fully describe how it felt, but I love it. And at the end "Player one: 16 credits. Player two: 0 credits. Continue? 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Game over" I think it was 16. That number sticks out in my memory. But I obsessed over that ending and I still do. Probably because I love video games and it's just so perfect.

"Wraith's Touch" I think I was scrolling on your masterlist or something and went "Hmm, Ghost Shigaraki. That sounds cool!" And I LOVED the plot in it and everything in it! The small details, the way it progresses, how she thinks it's just a dream so it's okay to enjoy it but waking up with a bruise from a hand with one finger missing. The chill that ran up my spine when it was revealed he was only pretending that the spell worked. And the impending doom when the reader is trying to get out, but he kills them before they can get out so they're forever trapped inside the house. All of it is beautiful and I love it so much! I remember being slightly worried since you said the ending was dark, but then I got to it and said "Oh, it's not that bad." So either it actually isn't that bad or I've just been consuming too much dark stuff. 😂

Also, I remember when I first started reading your fics and I was on pc, I remember the background was blobs of purple floating down and sometimes I would just stare at it and wondering when the loop started and thinking how the aesthetic it gave didn't match the yandere smut going on in the fic. XD

Anyway, sorry for this long thing that will clog up people's dashes. I probably should have just said all of that in a reblog of the fics. But I hope you are doing well and know I appreciate your works and that I think you are a great author. -Sapphire anon

I am honestly not sure if I can even articulate how much a comment like this means to me, seriously. Press Start and Wraith’s Touch are two of my favorite Shiggy fics (Wraith’s Touch edges out Press Start I think, but not by much) and to have such a long and detailed review like this is honestly a fanfic writer’s dream.

I was so damned proud of that start and ending to Press Start, and I’m over the moon that that it had such an effect on you! That was one I came up with while driving, and the idea just smacked me in the face. I actually pulled my car over just to write out my thoughts, I was so afraid of losing them 😂

Wraith’s Touch came from a deep deep love of horror media and haunted house stories. Even when I was too young to watch horror movies, I loved horror stuff. Horror video games (Silent Hill 2 is godlike and so is Outlast), horror movies, horror books, I devoured all of it. So I knew I wanted to do something with a horror twist. Weird thing about that fic: I had the ending planned out and written almost before I even had a beginning! The image of Shigaraki holding a dying reader as he reveals that he killed her...it just stuck in my mind and would not let go. I was a bit worried about the reaction to the ending simply because I know a lot of people don’t like it when reader dies, but it had a really good reception 💞

And omg I can’t believe you even remembered my theme. You’re right that it doesn’t EXACTLY fit my writing vibe, but damnit I am a girly girl that loves purple and I shall have it. 😂 You don’t ever have to worry about length comments though, you have no idea how much this comment means to me. Thank you so much sapphire anon, you have my whole heart for this comment 💞💞💞

#mari muse #mari gets sweet messages #sapphire anon #i mean it when i say comments like these are comments that fic writers would absolutely kill for #you made my day with every single word

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candied-peach · 5 years ago

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ao3: “toy trucks” rating: T warnings: food mention, some remus typical stuff, age regression, sympathetic remus, sympathetic deceit, platonic intruality genre: fluff description: Patton didn’t know what he was getting into when he volunteered to watch Remus. (the patton story referenced in “how bad can i be?”)

"Are you sure?" Deceit asks doubtfully. Behind him, a regressed Remus sprawls out on the floor, coloring. A green pacifier is lodged firmly in his mouth, with an octopus printed on the front.

"Of course!" Patton says, his tone jovial. "I'd love to. I- I should get to know him better anyway, right? What better time? I watch Virgil all the time when he's regressed and it really helped us bond, I think!"

"Remus isn't like Virgil," Deceit points out. Patton cheerfully ignores the skepticism on Deceit's face.

"I know that," he says, with a little laugh. "But you can't deny I'm good at helping out!"

"Perhaps," Deceit says, heaving a sigh. "Fine. But only because Thomas needs me." He hesitates. "Call me if something goes wrong?"

"Sure," Patton easily agrees. Privately, he doubts that he'll ever need to call Deceit. Why should he? He'll be fantastic at this. What could go wrong? Look, Remus is even coloring away, just like Virgil likes to! He knows Remus is a little more rambunctious and regresses to an older age than Virgil does (Virgil's favorite things are coloring, watching cartoons, and cuddling until he inevitably falls asleep), but he's no slacker himself in the energy department.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Deceit says, a frown twisting his mouth. "Don't let him watch anything you wouldn't let a kid in the real world see. He should only have edible snacks when he's regressed, his stomach can't handle his usual choice of consumables. Watch him. Don't take your eyes off him for a second."

"He'll be fine, Deceit!" Patton chirps. "Don't worry. Go help Thomas." He manages to eke out the last sentence with a minimum of fuss. It's hard even now to admit that Thomas does need Deceit, but he thinks he's been working on that quite well.

"Hey, little kraken," Deceit says, squatting on his heels. Remus looks up, still sucking on his pacifier. "I have to go help Thomas with something, okay? I'll be back as soon as I can. Patton has agreed to watch you, all right?"

"Want Lo Lo," Remus says sulkily around his pacifier. Deceit sighs, running gloved fingers through the grey streak in Remus's hair.

"I know," he says. "But Lo Lo has to help Thomas right now, too, I'm afraid. And your brother's away in the Imagination for the next day or two." Remus's bottom lip quivers. Deceit leans forward, planting a tiny kiss on Remus's forehead.

"It's just for a little while," he reassures Remus. The creative side looks utterly heartbroken and Patton's heart cracks a little at the sight.

"It's okay, Remus," Patton says, coming up next to Deceit. "We can have lots of fun while Deceit is helping Thomas."

"Really?" Remus asks, eyeing him doubtfully. Stung, Patton nods.

"Of course," he says, resolute.

"Watch him," Deceit repeats, yellow snake's eye boring into him. Then he sinks down, off to help Thomas with his new dilemma. A little shaken, Patton turns to Remus, who's resumed his coloring.

"So, what are you coloring?" Patton asks, with a cheery smile. Remus looks up and grins, revealing a gap in his teeth.

"Belle at the ball!" He exclaims. "But Belle got her arms ripped off by the Beast." Patton swallows hard, his face going pale.

What on earth have I gotten myself into? He thinks, struggling to summon up a word or two of praise for the regressed side in front of him.

Deceit had just left and Patton already couldn't wait for him to return.

"Wanna help?" Remus asks, proffering a red crayon. Patton swallows, his face going slightly pale at the thought of participating in even the crayon version of mutilating a Disney princess, and shakes his head.

"Sorry, kiddo, but I think you've got it down!" He says, hoping he still sounds cheerful. Remus's face droops for a second, before he turns back to his picture. Patton racks his brain for a distraction. Maybe toys? Does Remus like to play with toy cars or something?

"Do you want to watch cartoons?" He asks, seizing on one of Virgil's favorite activities. He doesn't think Remus would like the same shows, but hey, what does he know. Maybe Remus does like Sofia the First.

"Sure!" Remus says eagerly. "Wanna watch Billy and Mandy!"

"Does Deceit let you watch that?" Patton asks, skeptic. From what he remembers of the show, it's not exactly...appropriate. One of the characters is Death, for Pete's sake! But Remus is peeking up at him with bright glass green eyes and he finds himself sighing and agreeing, scrambling to find the remote and turn on the television.

As the episode plays, Patton gets more and more antsy. Surely this can't be good for him. There's an enormous alien brain creature going around and stealing everyone else's brains! Remus keeps looking up from his picture and giggling, especially at the end.

"Why don't we watch something else?" Patton suggests. Remus sticks out his bottom lip in a pout.

"Why?" He asks. "Are you scared?"

"No," Patton denies, although he has a strong feeling the alien brain is going to show up in his dreams that night. "It just doesn't seem appropriate, that's all."

"I'm not Virgil," Remus scowls. "I'm not a baby."

"Hey," Patton says, nettled. "Don't call Virgil that." Remus frowns in confusion.

"But he is," Remus says. Patton opens his mouth to rebut that, then closes it with an abrupt click. Virgil regresses to around toddler age, not a baby, but can he really explain that to Remus when he's regressed? Perhaps all children younger than he is fall into the "baby" category.

"Okay," Patton says aloud. "What about Octonauts? Have you ever seen that?" To his relief, Remus perks back up, grabbing a stuffed octopus from the floor next to him.

"Yeah!" He says, excited. "I like that show! There are octopuses! And squid!"

"There are," Patton agrees, relieved. He switches the channel, smiling as the familiar pastels of the underwater show fill the screen. This is much better, he reflects, looking at Remus's studiously bent head. There. He's not doing badly at this at all.

"Hey!" Remus blurts out. "Wanna see a picture I drew yesterday?"

"Sure," Patton agrees before properly understanding what Remus just asked. He starts to take it back, but Remus has already jumped up, dashing down the hallway toward his room. Minutes later, he hurtles back, an enormous sheet of paper flapping behind him.

"See?" Remus says, excited, as he spreads the paper out on the floor. Patton's mouth falls open when he sees it. Remus has drawn all of them together. Remus stands between Deceit and his brother, while Patton, Logan, and Virgil round out the line. But that isn't what makes Patton gasp, his hands flying to cover his mouth.

They all stand on a bed of skulls. Blood stained skulls.

"Remus, why on earth did you fill it with skulls? That's horrible!" flies out of his mouth before he can call it back. Remus jerks back, his eyes slowly filling with tears.

"I-" Patton swallows, trembling. "Remus, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Yes, you did," Remus says. His voice quivers, and Patton realizes just how young he really is when he's regressed. "Sorry I'm not like Ro Ro. Sorry I'm not good. You don't hafta watch me no more. I'll just stay in my room." He grabs his stuffed octopus and darts down the hallway again before Patton can grab him.

"Fuck," Patton says softly, with feeling. Guilt clogs his throat as he looks down at Remus's drawing. He leans closer, looking at the sides that Remus has so carefully drawn. Himself, in blue polo shirt and cat cardigan nestled across his shoulders. A big smile on his face. Smiles on everyone's faces, even Deceit's and Logan's.

He drew them all together, as one big happy fam-ILY, and Patton...

Patton swallows hard. Patton ruined it.

He starts down the hallway, his hands knotted by his sides. Remus's door is half open and he can see Remus curled up on his bed, shoulders shaking as he cries.

"Remus?" He says quietly. Remus's head jerks up and more guilt splinters through him when he sees the messy tear tracks down Remus's cheeks. "May I come in?"

"I don't care," Remus says, curling up tighter around his stuffed octopus.

"I'm sorry," Patton says. "I shouldn't have said that. Your drawing- it's amazing. You're a really good artist, Remus. It was really creative."

"Bad creative," Remus mumbles, face buried in the soft plush of his octopus.

"No," Patton softly contradicts. "You aren't. I never- I should have never done that to you. I know that an apology doesn't mean much if it isn't backed up by actions, but I am sorry, Remus. Please come back to the living room. I want to get to know you."

"I'm still not like Virgil," Remus says, uncoiling a little.

"I know," Patton says. "I don't want another Virgil. There already is one. I want to get to know Remus."

"Okay," Remus agrees quietly. He scrambles off the bed, shyly extending one hand when he reaches the doorway. Patton takes it, lacing their fingers together as he leads him back down the hallway.

"Can I have deodorant?" Remus asks hopefully. Patton laughs a little.

"Nice try, kiddo," he says. "Are goldfish okay?"

"Yeah," Remus says. "Patton?"

"Yes?" Patton asks. Remus smiles, revealing the gap in his teeth again.

"Thanks," he says.

tag list: @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @croftergamer @airiervessel @bexxbeauty @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @matthindavick @killjoy-3000 @yalltookmyurlideas @littlestliu

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frogs-spawn · 4 years ago

Text

it’s true lads, i have actually written something

(this was a prologue of a long canon fic that i’m writing/on hiatus on (oops) but i was thinking of changing the pov of it, so this doesn’t fit in it anymore) i may end up finishing the canon one, but it is long, so it probably won’t see the light of day, but we’ll see

anyway, here’s the ao3 link if you would like to read it on there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31116254

a tragic twist of fate:

summary: the lupin family are enjoying a quiet evening, when an unwelcome visitor shows up, changing all of their lives forever.

word count: 1.6k

The sun was setting, casting a burning haze across the sea, and subsequently over the unsuspecting cul-de-sac in the Gower. The pebble-dashed bungalows that hugged the road were quaint and uniform, with a meagre patch of grass out the front that barely constituted as a garden. All things considered; it was a very normal street. There were the Jones', with their tiny Yorkshire terrier, which was small in size but easily compensated with its tremendous bark. The Thomas', who were always out the front regardless of the weather, observing the street's comings and goings. The Liu's, whose windows were constantly filled with an assortment of different lights, illuminating the street, making it feel like Christmas every day. Opposite them, were the Lupin's. There was Lyall, who has a mysterious job that no one is quite able to figure out exactly what it entails; his wife, Hope, who made sure that the whole street was well and truly fed; finally, their 5-year-old son, Remus, who's usually found playing out on the empty street.

Remus, as expected, was having a game of tag with Julia from across the road when his mother called out from the front door. She had thick blonde hair, slightly greying at the crown of her head, which was tied up into a loose bun, the fly-always whipping the side of her face, which was covered slightly with gravy.

"Remus, it's time to come in now. Your father has just gotten home, and dinner's almost ready."

"But Mammy! I'm not even tired," Remus pleaded, shouting back, a little breathless. "Can we have a few more minutes? Please?"

"It's okay, Mrs Lupin." Julia panted, brushing her dark fringe from out of her eyes, it was a miracle she could even see. She was a few years older than Remus but was still somehow shorter than the boy (who was only slightly tall for his age). "I think my parents want me back soon anyway." She turned to Remus and smiled, "We're going to go out and play again tomorrow, aren’t we Re?”

"Yeah, okay then. I'll see you tomorrow! Bye!" Remus chirped back, with some newfound energy. He then proceeded to hurtle up the driveway and stumble through the front door.

“Not even going to give your old mammy a cwtch?” Hope laughed, following her son through the door, shoving her hands into her pockets.

He clambered onto his chair at the kitchen table and watched eagerly as his mother took a roast lamb out of the oven and began to dish it out on to mismatched plates. There were roast potatoes, which were crispy on the outside, but still fluffy and buttery on the inside, peas, carrots, and parsnips - that were roasted to perfection, and it was all smothered with thick gravy that was laden with salt and had the potential to clog up your arteries – but if it’s bad for you then that meant it would probably delicious. Remus’ mouth was practically watering.

"Now, as you've been running around all afternoon, I'll give you the extra roastie, how about that?" Hope smiled down at Remus, scooping a roast potato onto the plate.

Lyall stooped into the kitchen at that moment, placing his tattered briefcase down onto the splintered wooden counter and bent over to kiss his wife on the head. He was tall and lanky with brown curly hair that was just starting to thin. He wore deep navy robes over the top of a well-fitted suit, looking as if he had just walked out of a very important meeting. He could have been a very intimidating man if it weren't for the way his eyes lit up and his mouth formed a crooked grin when he looked adoringly across his small family, with an immense sense of pride.

"This looks wonderful, darling. What did I ever do to deserve you?" he laughed as went over to his son and ruffled his hair. "According to Mrs Thomas, you've been charging up and down the road all day! No wonder you look knackered." He fell into the chair next to him, as Hope brought the dinner over.

The family ate with easy conversation. Hope explained how she had heard from Mrs Thomas that Mrs Jones was apparently putting empty wine bottles into her recycling bin and Lyall explained his new case at work, but it seemed boring, so Remus didn't pay it much attention. He wolfed his food down so quickly, barely stopping for a breath, his poor mother thought he might end up with indigestion.

"Stay in your own lane, Lyall, that's what they said," Lyall explained in between mouthfuls, gesturing at no one in particular with his fork. "They won't believe me though, and that Greyback has been released again, the man makes my skin crawl." He used air quotes when describing him and huffed, as he took another bite out of his roast. "It's madness, I told them that. Did they listen? No. Cases of lycanthropy are going up and it's because of creatures like them. String 'em all up for all I care. Bloody werewolves.”

"Not at the table Lyall," Hope piped in, sensing that her husband was about to go on another one of his world-renowned rants. "I understand it's a pain, especially if no one listens to you at work, but let's keep dinner time a happy affair, don't you think?"

"Yeah, no, sorry love" he gave her a sweet smile, which she returned. "Anyway. Did you have you had fun today, Re?"

The boy looked up and nodded quickly. "Yeah, me and Julia played lots of games. We had a race to see who was faster. And I won!" he exclaimed, talking at the speed of a hundred miles per hour, he spread his arms for dramatic effect and sat up higher in his chair. "She said I was cheating, but I wasn't, I promise!"

"No, of course, you weren't." Lyall laughed and looked down at his son like he was the most precious thing in the world.

After dinner, the family were positioned around the small-rickety fire pit that was positioned in the corner of the patio, made up of broken slabs of concrete with weeds emerging like great vines through the gaps. The fire crackled and spat, specks of charred wood and the burning flame releasing swirling smoke into the atmosphere. They sat on wobbly wooden chairs, that they had gotten from the charity shop, which were starting to rot and covered in splinters. However, Hope had made some colourful and slightly garish cushions, so it was incredibly comfortable, despite the small risk of the chairs collapsing from underneath them. Hope was sat with a pair of knitting needles in hand, focusing on the burgundy jumper that Remus would undoubtedly get for Christmas in a couple of months time. Remus sat opposite and was looking eagerly at his father, who was making the little old wooden figurines of soldiers that Hope collected do an Irish jig across the uneven stone.

Then, there was a rustling in the undergrowth at the far end of the garden. The birds that had nested and settled in for the evening took flight, flying off into the rising moon, bright and beautiful.

"What on earth could that be?" Hope wondered out loud, staring out into the distance, squinting her eyes.

'I'll go check it out.” Lyall chuckled as he pushed himself out of the chair. "Probably just a fox, I shall go shoo it away."

He wandered to the end of the garden, managing to avoid the snail hotel Remus had built a year ago. He lit up his wand so that he could see at least three steps ahead of himself.

It was a surprise that it remained standing, despite the howling gales and torrential rain it had to endure, it stayed. For as long as he could remember, Remus looked after the snails in the hotel, gave them any leftover lettuce. They were his favourite magical creatures. It fascinated him, the way they could stick to the walls and go upside down, the only way that was possible, Remus decided, was magic. Lyall didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

"Ah, Lyall Lupin. Just the man I wanted to see." An unfamiliar voice snarled. The voice was deep and ragged as if it had been strained from screaming too loud "Fancy seeing you here."

“Fenrir.” Lyall cut back, voice curt but contained a small tremble. "Leave me and my family alone and take your unpleasant business somewhere else." He straightened his jacket and stood rigidly, making himself taller. But the figure, Fenrir, stood a head above him, despite his hunched posture.

"I don't think that would be necessary." He countered, his voice becoming more and more menacing. "How is your family? I'd love to meet them." He shoved Lyall out of the way, causing him to lose balance and he stumbled into the hedge.

“Hope! Remus! Get into the house and lock the door!” Lyall shouted, desperately, unable to keep up with Greyback, who was striding across the garden.

Hope quickly grabbed her things and ran, pushing open the back door with a creak.

“Remus, come on lamb, into the house.” Hope coaxed from the door, trying to sound as calm as possible.

But Remus stayed rooted to the spot, unmoving, fixed and waiting, staring into the monster before him.

Fenrir Greyback was a giant of a man, towering easily over 6 feet tall. He was unkempt and greasy, covered in black matted hair. His deceitful yellowing eyes emitting nothing venom. Remus scrambled off of the chair and edged slowly towards his mother. It was too late.

Their eyes locked. A deal had been struck.

Under the silver moon, Greyback's manic grin turned pointed and wider. Bones cracked, twisted, and popped. Hair became thicker, wired, and coarse. Tortured hands and feet transformed into gnarly claws. His previously crooked nose became a leathery, wet, snout.

Barring his teeth, Fenrir Greyback took a couple of paces forward, crushing the hotel under a monstrous paw, towards a terrified Remus Lupin.

And pounced.

#remus lupin #hope lupin #lyall lupin #fenrir greyback #young remus lupin #marauders era #marauders fic #hp fic #cait has actually written something #(don't worry i'm as surprised as you are)#sorry this is quite sad

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