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snowdrop-ivy · 2 years ago

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Danger. | II - The dream

Summary: A story between heaven and earth; hot and cold. Ana, a British settler, found her match in the rowdy streets of New York.

Ana pondered while staring at herself in front of her vanity. She could not get the vision of Sgt. Barnes off of her mind and it's annoying her. She tried everything to get him off her mind; baseball, football, and swimming.

There's something about his blue orbs that gets her away. That's not good, no, not when she is engaged. She is engaged to that mean, arrogant, son of a bitch Timothy. His father and her father arranged a marriage for them so Ana can be their green card. She couldn't do anything, not that she would, but she wants to... someday.

Ana stared at her engagement ring which according to Timothy was the ring his ex-fiancé threw at him. Good for her.

"Ana? Darling? Are you almost done?" Timothy shouted at the other side of the wall.

She rolled her eyes and spritzed perfume before heading out. "Done."

Timothy smiled at the sight of her. "You look beautiful."

Ana knows she did. She wore a red apron dress with silver belt, white silk arm sleeves, and silver stiletto heels. She polished herself up because she knows that if she didn't it will be a long heated discussion between the two of them.

She timidly smiled and they went their way. They went to Tim's office party on a restaurant downtown. Tim needed to parade her, especially if his ex is there.

They were greeted with smiles and hugs and handshakes and looks from his co-workers to which she knows that some of them are more than just a co-worker. Tim got lost on the dance floor while she was left in the booth with Tim's wives and girlfriends.

"So Ana, how do you find New York?" Dorothea asked.

"It's quite a dog's dinner. People are rowdy but aside from that, all is alright."

"Oh, well, that's New York for you," Betty joked and they all laughed.

Ana timidly smiled and watched Tim wrap his hands around some girl. She mentally rolled her eyes and went to the loo to breathe. She looked at her self in the mirror.

"Do I deserve this horrendous acts?" She asked herself.

Tim and Ana met a year ago in Birmingham when they, Tim and his dad, went to visit her father due to their on-going business of what-nots. She wasn't supposed to be the one marrying her, but when her sister died, she got offered to them. Like a meat. Of course, she was against it but what can she do? Kill herself? No, Ana loves the lavish life more than enough to kill herself for some stupid arranged marriage. Ana thought how hard would it be to pretend to love that bastard?

She contemplated if she would return to the booth or go upstairs to the roof. She decided the roof once she saw Tim exchanging saliva with a co-worker of his.

Ana found a bench beneath the signage of the restaurant and she sat on it and waited for Tim to finish his make out so she can go home. She can go home alone but her dad would lecture her on what should a good wife would be. One of it she guessed is to wait for your husband to finish his affairs so you can be together.

"Fancy seeing you here, brit"

She jumped on her seat. Ana looked for the source of the voice. "Up here, brit." Ana looked up and figured who the voice is.

"James?"

Oh yes, he is. Oh god, she should leave, right? That man has done nothing but to boggle her mind.

James jumped from the level and sat beside her. He's wearing the same clothes which she hopes is cleaner from when they last saw each other.

"Watcha doing here, Ana?"

Ana gulped and scooted when she realized there was no space between them. "A party."

"For who?"

"For Timothy."

"Who's Timothy?"

"My fiancé."

She looked at him. He pursed his lips and his jaw clenched when he heard that word. Bucky did not think that this gorgeous lady would be tied up soon. And to a bastard? He knows that Tim, that Tim was his neighbor before. He had all kinds of women coming in and out of his apartment. That bastard who did not give a good night's sleep.

"Huh," Bucky nodded. "Why?"

Ana looked at him and raised her brow. "Why what?"

"Why are you marrying him?"

"Green card."

Bucky was stunned by her honesty. This lady is far, so far, from the ladies he'd been with. So arrogant, feisty, and her thick British accent? So different. But for Bucky, different is good, different is nice, and different makes him like her more. Bucky laughed at her answer. Ana looked at him, confused, but when he didn't stop laughing, she joined her. Together they laughed at her misery. Their laugh was the first one she's had after her sister's death. It was so real and alluring now that she's experienced again how to be happy, even just for a second.

"You, lady, are gonna be the death of me," Bucky laughed as he held his stomach before wiping his joy tears.

Ana shrugged. "I'll be sure to wear black that day."

Once again, they laughed. Ana went on to tell stories of her life even though she was a private person. Bucky told stories from he was in the war. How he was drafted; how he met his best friends, Sam and Steve.

"You have a lot of friends, don't you?"

He nodded. "I guess so. Don't you?"

"In London, yeah, sure. I've had friends, but here, no. Everyone annoys me."

"So, why are you talking to me?"

Ana froze when he asked her that. She took a deep breath and shrugged. "You seem nice."

"I hope that never changes."

Ana smiled at her genuinely. It didn't take long before Timothy was looking for her because they were supposed to be home before 3AM. She bid her goodbyes to Bucky then went downstairs to join Tim into going home. She's staying in her house until they get married which is in 6 months, 3 weeks, 5 days exactly. She dreads the day being married to him and staying in the same house. Thankfully, Tim has more than enough money to keep Ana occupied. Well, she is not a gold-digger of some sorts but on this death deal, money should be enough to keep her alive.

>>Part 3<<

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #james buchanan barnes #bucky barns x you

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whatisreggieshortfor · 2 years ago

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Butler Boss

Episode one and Bill is up to bat!

@rebelrayne @csmicletters @justtuesdays Alfred is ready for his mission.

Alfred Pennysworth was many things. He was educated, organized. He was polite and respectful. But more than anything else, he was a matchmaker at heart. After finally getting his charge to find love, and seeing his charge’s sister do the same, he needed a new project.

So he took a look at the participants of Room Raiders that had lost. To see if there were ways he could help.

And, boy, did he find quite a few.

“Yo, is this Bill?”

“Uh, yeah. Who’s this, mate?”

Bill heard another voice over the phone, too far to be the one speaking to him, “Timothy, that was not a proper greeting. You need proper manners while on the telephone.”

“Alfred, mate, I agreed to help because Benni was so excited. Don’t interrupt. You need proper manners while I am on the telephone.” Bill heard a girl howling with laughter as ‘Timothy’ leaned back into the receiver, “Now, this is Bill, yeah?”

“Yeah, mate, who’s this?”

“Name’s Tim Pritchard,” Bill froze where he was grabbing mayo for his lunch, “I’m calling to talk to you about a…let’s say a second chance of something like Room Raiders. But you have to let us help you prepare.”

And what are you to say when Timye calls offering you help other than yes?

The incessant knocking on his door is what woke Bill up on his day off, grumbling as he looked at the clock and saw it was only six a.m. He groggily stumbled down the hall, throwing open the door to yell at whoever was on the other side, only to be greeted with the beaming smile of a girl that looked far too awake this early. Something about this girl looked familiar. Had he met her before? “Good morning, Bill! My name is Benni Beresford-King. We are here to help you find love.”

Looking at the people behind her, he saw her brother and he knew why she looked familiar. Their faces were all over the tabloids more than they weren’t- the future Lord and Lady dating commoners were a hot topic. “Uh- hi? What are you doing beating my door down so early?”

Tim sleepily waved off the question through a yawn, “You agreed to let us help you, mate. Alfred likes to get started early.”

“Alfred?” Bill knew the name of every person in front of him. None of them were named Alfred.

“Pardon me, sir.” The strawberry blonde flinched at the voice behind him, jerking around to look at him, “Apologies. I wanted to see what I would be working with. Let me introduce my team, Tom and Bennicia Beresford-King,” the girl in question made a face at the name while her boyfriend snorted, “Their partners, Lacey Knowles and Timothy Pritchard, respectively. In other cases, Jordan Whitcomb and Sebastian Wilson would join us as well, but I felt you would be more comfortable with their absence. Benni, my dear, the kitchen is this way.” The smiling girl shoved her way through the door with bags on both arms, clearly a mission in mind as her converse tapped their way across the floor.

“Why does she need my kitchen?”

“Bill, mate,” Tim grinned, “You need more than mayo. It’s boring. She’s gonna make a meal to show you why other sauces are important.”

“Mayo is the only sauce ya need.” Bill grumbled, but he finally stepped aside to let the others follow her path into his flat.

“Master Tom, please start with the bedroom.” Alfred directed the lord down the hall, watching with a smile as he checked the doors that led to the loo and the closet before finding the right one. “Timothy, you will be with Lacey in the living room.” Alfred heard a thumping sound behind him, and without looking away from the man in front of him, he called out, “Miss Lacey, we’ve discussed this. Stop putting your feet on the table.”

“Then stop calling me miss!” She answered back, making Tim snicker as he made his way over. She pulled out color swatches as the tucked their heads together to talk.

“Now William-“

“Name’s Bill, mate.” Alfred stopped, looking at Bill as if he’d grown a second head.

“Bill…is not short for anything?” He asked carefully.

“No. Name is just Bill. Right on the birth certificate.”

“Oh dear me, I am sorry. I do not think I can help you.”

Bill realized he was in for a long day.

Masterlist

#mtv room raiders #butler boss #Alfred deserves so much

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redflagshipwriter · 5 months ago

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Snitches 4: Tim gets in trouble ao3 story link (entire thing is posted, with edits to earlier chapters)

The vet had big horrible hands in stinky rubber gloves. Danny sneezed at him unhappily and didn’t move to come out.

“Um, he might bite,” Jazz Hands warned. “He’s a little wild…” He trailed off in disbelief as Danny made the contrary decision to stand out and twine out to rub his scent glands on the vet’s stinky gloves.

“No, he’s a sweetheart,” said the vet. He scratched Danny’s ears sooooo good. Ooh. Oh yeah. Why wasn’t Frostbite ever this considerate? Danny went up onto his toes to rub his side against the man’s arm, struggling to express his happiness without using his whole body weight.

Jazz Hands sighed. He said nothing for a moment. Then he apparently decided to have a good attitude about things. “I’d like a checkup, he’s new to the family. My little brother rescued him and instantly…”

The vet laughed at whatever gesture Jazz Hands had made. “Oh yes, this is the family cat now,” he agreed. “What a handsome little man!” Danny purred and bumped his nose against that hand.

“Um- I was concerned that he might have mange, or a rash, or like, mold-”

“No, no. This is a very healthy looking Lykoi cat. Look at-”

“That’s a breed? Someone wants cats to-” Jazz Hands sounded appalled. Danny opened his eyes explicitly to give him a dirty look. Jazz Hands guiltily dodged eye contact and coughed into his fist. “So, he’s, uh, always going to look like that? Vaguely evil?”

The vet hesitated a moment. “He’ll probably have less fur at some points. This is as good as it gets.”

“...Thank you for managing expectations. Alright. What’s a health check include?”

The first thing that happened was that they checked Danny’s weight on the table.

“Underweight, actually. Hmm. I might need a sample.”

Danny dozed off a bit, minding his own business. Until someone held his back down, lifted his tail, and he found out that they needed a stool sample.

When he was freed he tore away and hid under the office chair, highly offended.

The conclusion was even more offensive: “Parasites. So I’ll give you medicine for that.”

“Like, worms? The cat has worms?” Jazz Hands seemed to be feeling even more regret.

Danny scoffed. Like hell he did! He wasn’t really a cat. He was a human boy. Humans didn’t get worms, unless they did dumb shit like… like.

His nose twitched. He suddenly remembered that both he and Tucker were actively losing weight despite their campaign to put on some muscle and look cool before graduation. That… Okay.

‘Did Nasty Burger betray me?’ Danny let out a sad little meow about it and huddled. Who could have expected that? Sure, it was a raw tuna burger flash sale in a land-locked state, at a fast food chain that specialized in beef. But. Would the Nasty Burger really risk the health of customers through unethical-

Oh. Well. Duh, they would. They were probably lucky nothing worse happened, now that he thought of it.

Danny made a mental note to tell Tucker immediately that he needed to get to a veterinarian and get started on a treatment regimen.

He behaved for the rest of the visit and the car ride home, lost in thought. The only thing that came close to shaking his mood was the ordeal of taking his medicine. “I should let Dami give it to you, so you don’t hate me forever,” Jazz Hands muttered about it. “Come on Baldy Butt, take your pill!”

Danny very nearly bit him to the bone in recompense for the slander. He only refrained because hey, free healthcare! He didn’t want to wait until he was back in Amity to take care of this. He took the pill off of a long, callused palm with his tongue and struggled to swallow it down dry. Jeeze! Get a guy a bowl of water or something!

“How’s the cat?” Bruce asked as Danny strode past him, tail twitching with irritation. Timothy was already back. He looked up from his tablet to watch the procession.

Jazz Hand snorted and made- well, he made jazz hands. “Behold, a noble Lykoi cat, an animal that is intended to look like that!”

“No shit?” Timothy snickered. “He’s walking around with his buttcheeks half out and that’s how it’s meant to be?”

Danny decided that he was going to victimize Timothy. He sat and tried to make eye contact, projecting evil intent. Timothy did not look at him. Danny kept looking. As soon as that dickhead turned his head, he was going to feel unadulterated malice.

“Boys.” Bruce sounded unendingly tired. “Please don’t talk like that about your little brother’s pet.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Bruce,” said Jazz Hands. “I can see his weird pink butt. We can’t pretend otherwise. He looks like raw chicken.”

“I thought it was going to like, die,” Timothy agreed. He put his tablet down. “Like, of tuberculosis or some wasting disease.”

Bruce let out a big sigh. Danny huffed. He twitched his tail and directed outright evil at Timothy.

Timothy did not notice. In fact, Timothy got up and walked out of the room, talking with Jazz Hands.

That left his tablet unattended.

Danny crept up on the tablet, leaning into his body's hunting instincts. If that thing was connected to the internet, he could send his important message to Tucker. He looked between the tablet and Bruce as he inched closer. His heart thudded in his little kitty chest.

Bruce stood up! Danny huddled- and watched as Bruce walked out without really looking at him. As soon as Bruce’s shadow was out of sight, Danny scampered the rest of the way and verified that Timothy’s tablet hadn’t locked yet from inactivity. Score! He wasn’t up for jailbreaking.

Timothy had a lot of apps on this. Oof. Danny squinted at it. So much garbage. He helpfully deleted a few apps, dragging redundant meeting and word processing apps to the bin. Then he opened up Tweeter and painstakingly typed in Tucker’s screen name.

It was hard. Fuck. Paws weren’t made for this! He finally found him and friend requested Tucker. He waited, twitching his tail in the air behind him. He waited forever. Whole minutes passed. He couldn’t bear it!

Fine. New plan. Tucker would answer the request when he saw it. He’d just treat this like it was his account. Danny painstakingly opened up a new twoot and tagged Tucker’s handle first. Then he typed up: Git checked for worms loser.”

Send twoot!

Danny leapt away from the tablet, good deed done for the day. He prowled around the mansion, had a bathroom break and wiped his paws extensively on the clever wet mat, and then took a nap on Robin’s bed. He woke up because people were being rudely loud.

Annoying! He tried to ignore it. But they just wouldn’t shut up.

That was it. Danny launched himself off the bed and went to hunt down the jerks and yell them into submission. He found Timothy looking like a jerk, as usual, arms crossed and face pink. “I am not cyberbullying anyone!” he said. It sounded like he’d been saying it multiple times.

“Tim, there’s already articles.” Bruce said. Danny padded into the room, sick of being the most mature person on the property.

Jazz Hands cut him off, laughing as he read: “Millionaire CEO accuses underprivileged child of having worms.” He made a sound that reminded Danny of an air horn. Wow, his face was pink from trying not to laugh.

“I did not do that!” Timothy’s voice went high. “What the hell- someone hacked me or something.” Danny flinched at the sound, ears flicked back. “All the fingerprints are mine, fine. There's other routes to investigate.”

Hey. Wait. He snickered. Was Timothy in trouble because of Danny's twoot? If so, excellent. Timothy sucked.

“Timothy.” Bruce lifted his hands. “Alright, alright. Maybe someone did twoot from your account. But- it’s okay, if this is a cry for attention, or if you need to step back a bit-”

Timothy made a wordless yell of frustration.

Hey, shut up! Danny meowed loudly over him.

They made eye contact. Timothy looked feral, eyes wide and resentful. His cheeks were flushed and his hands curled into fists.

“What is this wretched cacophony?” Robin strode into the room, still carrying his bookbag. “Is this truly the important, adult business from which I am forcibly excluded?”

Danny shut his mouth. He tilted his face to the side. Hi Robin!

Robin knelt and held out a hand for Danny’s perusal. He took up the offer and sniffed to find out what Robin had been up to since they left. Mm, pencil smell. Something metallic, too. He let the hand pet him when he was done. He didn’t protest either when Robin expertly picked him up and braced him against his chest.

Timothy looked between Danny and Robin. He closed his mouth very tightly. But he looked like he thought they were somehow responsible for his predicament. Danny stuck out his tongue. Haha, I'm a fucking cat. You'll never catch me!

“Um, new update. Tucker Foley just returned your friend request and tagged you in a post saying-” Jazz Hands snorted on a laugh and had to stop to cackle for an uncomfortably long period of seconds. He gasped in a few steadying breaths and scraped his hair off of his face. “Um, he’s honored that you twooted about him? He did get checked out and yes, he had intestinal worms.” He broke down again in wheezing laughter to such an extent that he sank to the floor while the others stared.

Timothy’s whole face twitched.

“I suppose… that there is no need to issue a statement,” Bruce half-asked. He seemed confused about it. “If Mr. Foley is unoffended...”

Of course he wasn’t offended. He really had worms. Danny rolled his eyes.

“Illuminating,” Robin said flatly. “I take my leave with the only intelligent company in this house.”

Who was- Oh! It’s me! It’s me! Danny purred up a storm as he was carried away from the sounds of renewed argument.

“We must play and bond in the brief hours of freedom,” Robin explained in a low tone. “I will patrol the city late into the night. I have begun investigating the likelihood of equipping you for combat to accompany me, but as of yet the plan is undeveloped.”

Danny made a noncommittal mrrp and let Robin drop him to the bed covers. Inclusion was a nice thought, but not really necessary. He was fed up with being a teenage vigilante. He wasn't really interested in playing cat games, either, but- oh! His eyes went wide at the fascinating darting movement of the red light that Robin had clicked on.

It wasn't a prey animal. Danny stared at it, frowning. It was a laser. There was nothing to catch- leap!

Fuck, it was getting away- pounce! Danny tore after it, torpedoing along the bedframe and leaping up the wall. He was desperate to get the red light. He had to bite and kill it. It was impossible but he had to.

Robin ran him ragged with the expertise of a conductor, wringing feats of athleticism that Danny would never have dreamed of out of his panting cat body. When he finally collapsed, he had the sense that Robin approved highly of his efforts.

“I have a sketch that you may find pleasing,” Robin informed Danny. He put away the laser, sat down on the bed, and started petting. “Unfortunately, you will never be a swordsman. You have no thumbs.”

Too true. Danny nodded sagely. He had more thumbs than Robin thought, but still zero chance of getting good at sword fighting.

“So I designed a vest of sorts upon which we could mount weaponry for you, such as perhaps a small turret with smoke pellets, or a gun. You could operate it by biting a trigger- yes, just so,” Robin said, apparently totally unbothered by Danny toothing at his hand to try to end the topic. A gun??? Why would Danny need a cat mounted gun?

…Timothy.

No, bad. Danny shook the thought off and flicked his ears rapidly to wave it away. He couldn't shoot Timothy, not even for the crime of being a big jerk to sweet little Robin.

He ended up falling asleep. He woke to an empty manor. It was fine.

Danny prowled the halls, and he wasn't creeped out by how big and empty it was. He wasn't bothered that it was scary and he was alone.

Okay. Nope. Danny planted himself in front of the trick entrance at the clock and cried pitifully. He needed an adult, someone who could reach the light switch.

Alfred eventually came to let him in. Danny made a grateful nyaaang and rushed down the stairs. The old man followed at a sedate pace. He sat down on the same chair as before and looked at Danny pointedly, as if to say, well, go on then. Danny leapt back up onto Robin's chair and loafed.

Alfred put his earpiece back in. “I have returned. No, there's no emergency. Agent Snitches required assistance with a door.”

He said it so dryly that Danny almost missed that he was being mocked. He considered being offended but. Ya know. It was true.

“His acquaintance? Perhaps if you attend brunch.”

Danny pricked his ears for more of that topic, but Alfred didn't say anything else for a long time. He dozed, happier and secure in the semi dark cave with the occasional sound of gunfire and cracks through the headset.

He roused when he was carried to bed. He ate a late night snack of wet food while Robin showered. He only remembered he had a job to do when he was drifting off on Robin's pillow. The child was dead asleep.

Danny almost groaned, but he wasn't going to wake the baby. Did he really have to? Surely after the day's excitement and all the terrible sounds his joints had made, old man Bruce had seen sense and decided to actually go to bed. Seriously. That man's ankles sounded like a mouthful of pop rocks.

Danny heaved a put-upon sigh about it but he ghosted his way out of Robin's room and prowled to check on Bruce.

He wasn't in his room. Fuck. Danny ran to the grandfather clock– Bruce must have already gone through.

Fuck. Did he get Timothy? Timothy was a big old jerk to innocent cats and little brothers, but he sure was pissy at Bruce.

Yes. Good ally. Danny raced to the right bedroom and politely pawed at the wood. Bap, bap.

The door swung open and Timothy aimed a kick into the open air. Danny tilted his head up to watch it sail a few feet over his head.

What a weird guy. He meowed once, quietly.

“...It’s you.” Timothy deflated and went to close his door. “Go back to the kid, cat. I do not want you in my room.”

I don’t want to be in your dumb room!

Danny hissed and then pointed at Bruce’s closed door with his nose. He followed up by pawing at the air in that direction and meowing once, pointedly, with all the disdain he could muster.

Timothy looked at him for a long time. He started to frown in thought. “There’s no way… Maybe you just want Bruce.” He seemed torn between curiosity and going back to his room. “Fine.” He strode out into the hallway and rapped on the closed door with his knuckles.

Silence. Of course there was.

“No way,” Timothy muttered, and pushed the door open. “Did he-” He let out a put-upon sigh. “Sorry, cat. I am not going into the cave to drag him out. He never listens to me. I could get Alfred- no, I am not waking him up.” He scowled about it and then his face cleared. “On second thought, I can tattle to someone else.” Timothy pulled his phone out of his pocket and started rapidly typing, smiling unpleasantly. He closed his door on Danny without even saying goodnight.

Danny sneezed his indignation on the closed door. But that was probably as good as he was going to get. He went back to Robin’s room and slid through the closed door in time to make eye contact with the sleepy child, hair mussed from looking under the bed.

Danny looked at Robin. Whoops!

Robin looked at Danny. His expression was inscrutable.

Danny took the last sheepish step in, phasing through the door.

“This will make it even easier for you to assist me in the field. Good work, Snitches.” Robin dropped the bedskirt and held out his hand for like, a shake? Did he want a handshake? Danny edged closer out of curiosity and discovered that someone had taught Robin to do fistbumps to express approval. He bapped his paw against Robin’s closed fist.

They had a good night. Danny thought that the increasing guilt about disappearing from Amity Park might keep him up but it turned out that his cat body did not give a fuuuuck.

When they woke up, Robin had another training session planned. He taught Danny some codes and drills. Danny wanted to know where this was going, so he hissed, hid, and slashed the air when directed. Then Danny trotted at Robin’s heels down the hallway where they both did some light cardio and drank water. After that, they headed to the breakfast table, where they were immediately beset upon by an army of loud teenagers.

“Ignore them,” Robin said imperiously. Danny nodded and stalked to his place mat, head held high despite giggles and a male voice saying, “Wow, that is an ugly cat.”

“Don’t be mean,” said a girl. Danny looked up out of sheer curiosity. He’d only seen guys here. There were two girls now, the blonde who had defended his honor and an East Asian girl who seemed to have transcended the chaos in favor of what looked like grape juice.

He appreciated anyone in his corner. Danny gave Blondie a nod and a short meow and then tucked his feet into his body, waiting to be served. He had a drink already like everyone else but- he sniffed. Oh! That wasn’t water, it was a fish broth. He lapped at it.

“Damian, the cat will not be able to join us in the field,” Bruce said tiredly. “Cats lack martial capacity and they are not trainable.”

“Perhaps to the inferior that is true,” Robin said scornfully. “Snitches! Slash!”

The entire table looked over. Danny sort of hated being a freak show, but he dutifully showed off his claw attack at the air above his empty tray. Robin was just a little kid. He didn’t want to embarrass the poor little guy.

Everyone started talking again.

“Silence!” Robin held up a hand, burning with pride. “Snitches, take cover!”

Now everyone watched in dead, awkward silence as Danny darted under the same piece of furniture he’d hid under yesterday.

“Snitches, bite!” Robin directed him with a finger at–

“Do not!” Timothy shouted, standing up with more trust in Robin's cat training capacity than expected, but Danny was already darting for his feet, grinning wildly. He lunged with paws and teeth at the same time, aiming to hold his foot and bite at his ankle. But Timothy was fast! Danny chased him until he was snatched right out of the air by big hands. He stopped struggling immediately and hung there. Boo. Hiss. He had failed. Defeated by fucking Timothy. L for Danny.

“It is alright, Snitches,” Robin reassured him. “You have only begun your training. Despite his many inadequacies, Timothy is an intimidating opponent for a beginner.”

The man holding Danny began to laugh way too loudly in his ear. Danny squirmed to be let down.

“Is it just me or was that freaky?” asked Blondie. “Because that seemed freaky. I’m not an expert on cats, but-”

“I am,” Robin loftily interrupted. “Release Snitches at once, Todd. He requires breakfast to maintain his strength. He, unlike the many slackers and layabouts that infest this household, has already committed an hour to training this morning.”

Todd let Danny go after a head pet. Danny stalked away, tail up, feeling pretty damn smug about shutting all these jerks up.

“Breakfast is served.” Alfred came back with a cart, apparently unbothered by the extremely troubled silence of a room full of people trying to remember what real cats were like. “Master Snitches, your kibble, sir. And for the table, I have seasonal fruits, pan au-”

Danny tuned that out to snarf down his food, which was really good. Maybe he should try cat food when he was human again.

He spent about a week like that, training with Robin and helping Alfred to maintain order in the household. And then just like a switch flipping, Danny knew that he could go back to his human body. He thought it over for a while, torn.

On the one hand, his parents had probably noticed he was gone by now, and he was going to have so much homework. Was that an argument for going home or for staying here forever? He twitched his ears, torn. If he was a cat, he never had to explain where he’d been. He would be done with essays. Here, he had free food and healthcare for life. It was a pretty sweet deal, wasn’t it?

No! That was nuts. He couldn’t be a cat forever.

But these people also had like, tons of security cameras around. So Danny waited until Robin left for school and then walked off in full view, feeling pretty bad about depriving a kid of his pet but also, he did sort of miss his friends and family.

He got home to Amity after a long and circuitous journey on public transportation and resolved to put the incident behind him.

It did not work.

Snitches the cat and his favorite bat

I wrote up dpxdc fics based off of prompts I happened to see in the last day to add to the reading pile for anyone who didn't prep for the archive down time today.

Snitches the cat comes from @garbagewith-a-cherryontop (I think??? I couldn't find a definite first post!) but the fantastic linked post is the one with how I think Snitches the cat looks here.

Word count is 1053.

Tumblr reference

masterpost for my AO3 downtime fics

“Ugh- that's not- did we just summon a demon cat?”

“It's so messed up looking. Ew.”

Danny blinked and swayed on his feet. He'd had a tail a minute ago, speeding across the GZ to check in on Walker. There had been an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. And now he was on his feet. All four of them.

Wait, what?

“You fucked this up.”

His ears twitched at the sound of a slap. Danny swiveled towards the sound and then got distracted by the feeling of his ears swiveling back. Whaaaaat?

He looked down at his precious little feeties. They were adorable paws.

“Oh, you motherfuckers,” he said. It came out as a conversational yowl.

The humans looked at him from about ten feet away and five feet up. “Annoying…”

He was pretty sure they were high schoolers. There were five of them, two girls and three boys. They were all bigger than him. High schoolers were usually bigger than he was, but this was just ridiculous.

“Count yourself lucky, dimwits,” one of the older kids said. He took a step towards Danny. Danny pressed his ears flat against his head and hissed at the approach. “If you managed to sacrifice Patches to a demon, your Mom would straight up murder you.” He laughed when he said it, like anything about that was remotely funny.

Uh- what now?

Only now, Danny noticed a very distressed calico cat underneath a laundry basket on the other side of the room. There was a stack of textbooks weighing the basket down. A large rug had been rolled up and- he sneezed rapidly, eyes watering. Chalk! They'd drawn on the floor with chalk!

‘This is some incompetent summoning,’ Danny realized, way too late. ‘Did they- how did they turn me into a cat?’ He looked at his unfortunate brethren under the laundry basket. Her ears were flat against her skull and she looked scared.

He remembered the word “sacrifice” and his blood flushed hit with fury. They'd wanted him to eat her! They'd wanted something to eat miss Patches!

The teenagers froze and looked at him, aghast at the angry sounds that were coming out of his throat.

“Shut up!” One hissed. She took off her shoe and threw it at him. Danny dodged and then threw his head back to yowl even louder. Sonic attack! Aural damage, you big jerks!

“The neighbors are going to- make it shut up!”

Danny had to run, dashing over furniture and tearing his way across a crowded table to avoid being grabbed. He screamed the whole time, eager to alert whoever they were so afraid of. Someone should see!

The window burst in.

Danny stopped running, shocked. He hadn't actually expected-

Someone snatched him up from behind and smacked him on the face with a palm. His jaw exploded with pain. It cut off his yowling.

Stunned. He was still for a moment and then he struggled for his life. The grip on his ribs was way too tight-

He looked over at the sound of a sword being pulled from a sheath. Holy shit, that was bomb as hell. His eyes went wide at the sight of a heavily armored small child crouched on the windowsill. The boy's eyes were covered, but Danny could still see him look at Danny and the poor calico under the laundry basket. He sneered.

“Unhand the cat or lose your hands at the wrist, you wretch.”

Danny loved him.

The teenager dropped him. Danny caught himself with a stumble. He let out a sad mraow before he could stop himself.

Fight club baby was enraged. “What have you done to this animal?” He hopped down into the room, revealing he was at least a foot shorter than the smallest girl in the room.

Danny trotted to him and started winding around his ankles admiringly. What a good kid! He purred.

“I will be taking both of your cats with me. If you ever harm an animal again, it will be your head that is found in a chalk-”

“Robin.” A hugeass grown man squeezed himself through the window that the kid had broken. Danny craned his head up, up, up, to see him case the joint.

The older man radiated incredible judgment. “I see that you require education on animal welfare and demonic summoning. Go on, Robin.”

“That's my Mom's cat!” One of the teenagers protested. “You can't take her!”

Robin growled at her. Danny jumped in his skin at the sound.

“Then we shall return it to your Mother and her alone, when we explain what you've done.” Danny let murder baby scoop him up and purred at full volume. Hell yeah. He looked at the cowering teenagers with condescension.

“Not that fugly thing.”

Danny blinked. He ended up making an inquisitive mraow. Why was a finger being pointed at him? He was baby.

“That thing showed up, you can get rid of it. But Patches is Mom's cat, and you can't steal a cat because-”

“Batman can steal any cat!” Robin bit out, gathered up Patches, and jumped out the window with both cats in an expert grip.

That didn't sound right, but Danny just enjoyed the night air as a line pulled Robin up to where yet another masked vigilante was waiting, cackling himself to tears.

“Batman can steal any cat,” he wheezed. “Brilliant. Good detour, Robin. Can I hold one?” He held out his blue-striped palms expectantly.

He faltered when he saw Danny, visibly surprised.

Danny… was starting to feel bad. He curled into Robin, hurt. He wasn't ugly. Why did people keep reacting to him weird?

“No,” Robin said curtly. “You have damaged his pride, and Patches is still reeling from her shock.”

The man let out a sigh but let the topic go. “That's Patches, and this is…?”

Robin hesitated. “He is the Snitch.”

That unlocked cooing. “Snitches? Snitchy Snitch Sni- ow!”

Danny snapped at the hand that came way too close and he let out a warning growl. No baby talk!

Robin seemed very pleased. He rubbed behind Danny's ears. “Snitch… I suppose that Snitches will suffice. We are taking him home.”

“....Maybe, just for fun, we should take him to get treated for mange first!” The guy made jazz hands to go with his statement.

Robin and Danny both growled that time.

#snitches the cat au #dp x dc #dc x dp #there is a ao3 story now #sequel planned

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incorrect-quotes-2-the-startling · 2 years ago

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The Great Mouse Debacle

Dear All, I saw a mouse, where? there in the meeeting room, there in the meeting room right there, etc etc...His name is Malcom and although he is very cute I'm afraid he cannot stay so we need to put some traps down. Also please make sure no food is left out for him - particularly large pieces of cake! - I'm not imagining this as Tupperware, Mysterion and New-Kid also saw him (albeit rather briefly) - Wonder-Tweek

Lets get him! - Fastpass I'm not sure which is more worrying. The mouse in the meeting room, or that Tweek needs reassurance that he's not seeing imaginary critters - Call-Girl

I say we catch him alive and fatten him up for the next milestone feast... - Mosquito MMMMMMMmmmmmmm Chicken - Fastpass I almost stepped on him last week - New-Kid Lets catch him and keep him as a pet. Failing that I could use him as a friend to keep Stripe company. - Super-Craig Leave the mouse alone. He wont hurt ya - Mysterion

I like to wear mice as hats. - Damien Let's make our next game about him. Malcolm the MF Mouse... - Tupperware So that's who's been stinkey'n up the loo and not turning the fan on!!! Of course! He cant reach the fan! - Human-Kite Nor can he aim, apparently. - Tool-Shed Let get the little furry F**K. - Fastpass We can always get a mouse-friendly trap rather than a snappy trap...Although where to dump him when he's caught....? - Call-Girl

OUT THE WINDOOOOOoooowww................. *splat* Just kidding - Mysterion Simple: a combination mouse trap and catapult. *SNAP - SPROING - WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH - . . . . . . . . . . thud* - New-Kid I take it that the “THUD” is you whacking him out of bounds with your baseball bat? - Henrietta shouldn't that be SNAP - SPROING - SQUEAK - WHOOSH? - Professor Chaos Maybe we could invest in a cat. - Human-Kite Down Cartman's trousers! - Super-Craig

I just love the sexy scurry of a lady mouse, Leave the mouse alone, Leave all mice alone, My darlin I, cant get enough of you love baby.... la la la la la - Mysterion No, it should be: SNAP - SPROING - SQUEAK – WHOOSH – ting (microwave done) - New-Kid Did you have a bad mouse experience during your childhood??? - Call-Girl Gee, that X-Box demo would have worked heaps better if they'd thrown a mouse into a room full of mouse traps already primed with other mice, setting off a chain reaction of SNAPs, SQUEAKs and SPROINGs. - Mosquito This is my one line comment. - Doctor Timothy

Maybe we can convince Mysterion to eat it? - Tool-Shed That'll take a lot more convincing then five dollars - Mysterion You can do it! - Fastpass Or we could put it back where it belongs .. plugged into the back of somebody's computer. - New-Kid Hasn't anyone seen Stuart Little??? He could be our ticket to fame and fortune! - The Coon In the sequel to Stuart Little, they're gonna have him infect the happy family with the plague. - Damien

Has anyone ever seen both Cartman and the rat at the same time?... just wondering if there's some secret identity thingy going on. - Human-Kite Maybe he's the little bastard moving everyone's stuff - Tool-Shed So was it the mouse that was sneaking smokes in the toilet? Seems like the poor little thing is getting blamed for everything else - Call-Girl Let's get him! - Fastpass I could use another mouse or two to help power my car... - Mysterion We should cover the room with flour and see where his little tracks lead. Then douse the mongrel in petrol - Damien

nah.. That's not funny.. That's just a bit sick - Mosquito Let's just cover the room in Petrol and light it up now! - New-Kid WOOOHOOO!! An old fashion burnin'! Let me duck home and grab me roastin' trousers - Damien I'm beginning to see the start of the Stinky Meat Project part 2 ;-) - Fastpass Put his little mouse head on a big dirty pike as a warning to others... - Henrietta Lets just all burn our pants. - Mysterion Umm, you go first - Tool-Shed

Let's get him! - Fastpass You all want to jump me now I've burnt my pants huh? - Mysterion One of my friends had a story about his father doing the mouse vs petrol thing when he was young, and with its last chance at revenge, the burning mouse ran into some very long, very dry grass, set the grass alight, and burned down a whole farm.. crops, machinery, house, and also the people who owned it... - New-Kid hahahahaha cooooooool - Damien See, vicious little mongrels, mice. Burn your house down soon as look at you. They're dangerous! Arsonists! Satanists! They must be stopped, before it's too late. It's us or them. [oh, and I'm always available for a pants burning. name a time] - Mosquito

Let's get him! - Fastpass Release your anger and complete the journey to the dark side... - Mysterion Why don't we just get HIM? - Tupperware That's not the mouse you are looking for.. Move along, move along. - Human-Kite Let's get him! - Fastpass I don't think Mysterion needs any help releasing . . . - Call-Girl Certainly not releasing so much as restraining. - Tool-Shed Has anyone heard the one about the mouse and giraffe that met in a bar? - Mosquito

Yep - Tupperware I think we should all try and get out of the HQ a little more - Call-Girl Woowoo! Call-Girl said we can all go home! - The Coon Let get HIM then! - Fastpass Let's have pants burning as a random encounter, or even a full mission. Somebody keeps sneaking into the base and setting fire to peoples pants - Tupperware There isn't really a mouse. I just made the whole thing up lol - Tweek THERE IS NOW DAMMIT!!! - Damien

Lets get Tweek then? - Fastpass Blah blah blah! - Doctor Timothy Dracula impressions? Really? - Super-Craig blah blah blah, dude! (keanu in dracula) - Tupperware If it was MY mouse, Id say like: Get back in the kitchen and cook me some pie bee-atch - The Coon You have a pie-cooking mouse? - Human-Kite Yeah of course I do - The Coon

If you don't mind I'd like to borrow it for the night. - Tool-Shed

You need help. - Call-Girl

That's WHY I need the mouse . . I feel he could add some valuable insights into my non-existent social life - Tool-Shed

Let's just set up a big barbed wire cage (or even better, a dome) and have a sort of last man standing dealie. The winner gets to eat the mouse... - Mosquito

I'm in - Damien

Are we fighting the mouse or each other? - New-Kid

I assumed the idea was to beat each other to a bloody pulp. - Damien

Sure, but I've always wanted to compete versus a rodent [I might actually have a chance of winning]. - Mosquito Aaaaaargh! - Doctor Timothy "I'm not imagining this as Tupperware, Mysterion and New-Kid also saw him (albeit rather briefly)" I'd just like to categorically deny ever seeing a mouse. Tweek is a loon. - Mysterion Catch mE IF you cann!!!! i'Ve BEEEN crappping in YoUr Koffee for ^Wee&ks. HAR HAR HAR HAR!!!! The MOuS!!!!-----

#south park the fractured but whole #Tweek Tweak #Jimmy Valmer #Wendy Testabuger #Clyde Donovan #South Park New Kid #Craig Tucker #Kenny Mccormick #Damien Thorn #Tolkien Black #kyle brovlofski #Stan Marsh #Henrietta Biggle #Butters Scotch #Timmy Burch #Eric Cartman #incorrect quote

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ashdumpsterpile · 3 years ago

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the best part of spn(ive never seen it) is timothy omundson because he's the hottest man who ever lived send tweet

honestly Loo if you watched supernatural you would be the only fan on tumblr.com with taste because THIS MAN is a DILF

talk to me about supernatural

#sitting in church nowadays really be like #pastor: and cain-#me: DILF #spn #cain spn

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jazzviewswithcj · 3 years ago

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Track review-- A deeper look at: Lyle Mays “Eberhard” (Self produced, 2021)

Lyle Mays (piano, keyboards, synthesizers), Bob Sheppard (sax and woodwinds), Steve Rodby (acoustic bass), Jimmy Johnson (electric bass), Alex Acuña (drums and percussion), Jimmy Branly (drums and percussion), Wade Culbreath (vibraphone and marimba), Bill Frisell (guitar), Mitchel Forman (Hammond B3 organ, Wurlitzer electric piano), Aubrey Johnson (vocals), Rosana Eckert (vocals), Gary Eckert (vocals), Timothy Loo (cello), Erika Duke-Kirkpatrick (cello), Eric Byers (cello) and Armen Ksajikian (cello)

When pianist, synthesist and composer Lyle Mays passed on February 10, 2020 from a lengthy battle with an undisclosed illness, to say it was shocking to all those who enjoyed both his work with the Pat Metheny Group (1978-2005, with officially undocumented Japanese and European tours during 2009-10) and his small catalog as a bandleader was an understatement. The word genius is overused in the music and entertainment industry but Mays truly was a genius in every sense of the word. Not only was he a fabulous musician and composer, but he was multi-talented. Among his many interests outside music: architecture, he had designed his own Los Angeles house as well as one for his sister in Wisconsin; he was a soccer enthusiast that while he was with the PMG actually taught and coached a local team a distinct Brazilian style of play, he was a computer programmer, and a billiards player who played on the professional circuit. Above all, Mays’ attention to structure, detail and compositional drama was a hallmark of his own work, and his brilliant harmonic mind always contributed effervescent improvisational ideas. While he possessed chops in spades, the keyboardist always used them in a meaningful way. As a synthesist Mays was the most significant musician after Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea and Joe Zawinul as a player in the “jazz” field.

Eberhard, composed in 2009 for the Zeltsman Marimba Festival, is a tribute to one of Mays’ greatest influences: the bassist Eberhard Weber. The 13 minute track, which is being released world wide as a single on CD, LP and streaming formats is in many ways a perfect bookend to Lyle Mays (Warner Bros/Metheny Group Productions, 1986) the titular debut record that, while sounding quite unique from anything in the so called “fusion” field was critically panned at the time. In the decades since, the album has gained a cult following as a bonafide classic. The remainder of Mays’ catalog (including a 1993 quartet concert released 22 years later The Ludwigsburg Concert) has broad reach that in its totality represented restless exploration and traversed multiple trails simultaneously.

After the PMG’s The Way Up however, Mays had reservations about where the music industry was going and retired from the music industry instead working a regular position as a software engineer. He also couldn’t deal with the rigors of touring and after the aforementioned PMG Songbook tour of Europe and Japan during 2009-10, Mays had had enough. Though there were rumblings of Metheny and Mays writing for a new Group record a few years later, ultimately the plans were scrapped and the keyboardist made relatively few live appearances, instead focusing on a few teaching appearances co lead with collaborator and sound designer Bob Rice (most known as a Synclavier operator for Frank Zappa) and a widely viewed TED Talks appearance. Mays had also become an endorsee for synthesizer companies Arturia and Trillian Spectrasonics.

Sometime in 2019 Mays’ health began to worsen and decided he needed to record Eberhard so it is not a traditional posthumous release because he was involved in every aspect of playing, composing, recording, orchestrating and producing. As an associate producer, long time PMG band mate, acoustic bassist on the track and best friend Steve Rodby says in the liners, Eberhard was not to be the last work of Lyle Mays and he had plans for more. After Mays’ death, on the Pat Metheny website, the guitarist posted some words about his long time musical compatriot and indicated that he and Mays had been talking about a wacky idea of which he could not reveal the details, but that it was something related to a sequel of their classic As Falls Wichita, So Falls Wichita Falls (ECM, 1981). Eberhard is significant for being the largest ensemble Mays ever led, at 16 members bringing back Alex Acuna and Bill Frisell from the first album, Steve Rodby on acousic bass (who appeared on 1988’s Street Dreams) and featuring mallet player Wade Culbreath, electric bassist Jimmy Johnson, vocalists Rosanna and Gary Eckhart as well as Mays’ niece the rising Aubrey Johnson. A string quartet, Bob Sheppard on reeds, Mitchel Forman on Hammond B-3 organ and Wurlitzer electric piano, and second drummer Jimmy Branly round out the group besides Mays’ piano and keyboards.

Mays’ connection to Weber’s music goes back further than the 2009 composition, which has roots decades before in 1983. While Mays appeared on the bassist’s wonderful Later That Evening (ECM, 1982) Weber had appeared on Pat Metheny’s Watercolors (ECM, 1977) forming the backbone along with drummer Danny Gottlieb of what could be considered a Pat Metheny Group prototype, and the tracks Mays appeared, are really a prequel to Pat Metheny Group (ECM, 1978). Weber remained a profound influence on the keyboardist’s composing, and when the PMG’s swan song The Way Up (Nonesuch/Metheny Group Productions, 2005) was released, the melancholy bass melody of “Part 2” was a direct reference to Weber.

The piece begins with an marimba ostinato from Culbreath, a two note motif with a touching chord progression. Mays states a few of the melodic ideas with his signature piano reverberating in the atmosphere with trademark subtle layers of keyboards and percussion from Acuna. It’s important to note the striking similarities in style between Mays and Weber keyboardist Rainer Bruninghaus. Mays and Bruninghaus, it must be said conjecturally, seem to have explored parallel paths in their harmonic styles and solo wise. Jimmy Johnson’s fretless bass then takes center stage for a bass melody redolent of Weber, before things really begin to percolate with minimalist motifs that are quite influenced by Indonesian Gamelan music (shades of the title track to Imaginary Day) and Steve Reich. Flutes state a motif taken directly from Weber’s “T. On A White Horse” on The Following Morning (ECM, 1974) and the first bits of wordless vocals appear with the motif, the percussive vocal effects that appear from the far left and right parts of the sound stage are reminiscent of the synth effects Mays used on “Northern Lights”, the first movement of the “Alaskan Suite” from Lyle Mays. There are also musique concrete sonic collages that frame the eerie dream like sequences much like the first two parts of Street Dreams (Warner Bros./Metheny Group Productions, 1988).

Mays takes a solo that builds in intensity and arc before the main musical kernel melodically is revealed behind Acuna’s drums and the wordless vocals from the Eckhart’s and Johnson. During a further development of this section, Mays and Johnson engage in an awe inspiring duo with Johnson’s vocals in unison with his keyboards. It is here and only here, for a couple of bars does Mays signature ocarina like synth lead appear, more as a texture placed in the mix alongside other sounds. Bob Sheppard, ace LA studio player and longtime associate of the keyboardist takes a searing tenor sax solo buoyed by Rodby’s inimitable bass and surging intensity from the rest of the ensemble. An intriguing aspect of Mays’ comping behind Sheppard revolves around a device he loved to use, where rhythmically his lines “pulse” much like the way Stravinsky has rhythmic pulsing in pieces like The Rite Of Spring and The Firebird. Another fine example of this style of comping would be the way Mays comps behind Pat Metheny’s guitar synthesizer solo on “As It Is” from Speaking of Now (Warner Bros. Metheny Group Productions, 2002) though there are numerous other examples of Mays doing this in other tracks throughout his discography. Once things reach the point of no return in terms of build, the piece ends as quietly as it began. The marimba ostinato returns behind the subtle synth underpinning and the piece achieves an utterly satisfying resolution. It is remarkable that in 13 minutes the piece travels as much territory as it does, it feels as if the listener has been on a much longer journey.

Sound:

Recorded, mixed and mastered by Rich Breen, Eberhard was recorded during the latter parts of 2019 up through January 2020. The familiar hand of Steve Rodby served alongside Bob Rice as associate producers and sonically the piece is full and dynamic covering the entire sound stage. Production wise, the album falls between Lyle Mays and Street Dreams. As with those albums, Frisell is a textural voice in the mix as opposed to a lead voice, and he seamlessly blends into the soundscape in a way the listener may not notice. Mays’ piano is at once gleaming but also relatively dark in timbre but is so resonant across the sound stage with reverb. Drums, and bass all sound accurate and have appropriate punch, and new details in the sub mix reveal themselves over time upon multiple listening.

Concluding Thoughts:

In a cultural era where the light music brings is needed more than ever Eberhard is simply a gift. Mays’ entire catalog is worth investigation, but there is something about the piece that places it near the top, it is perhaps barring none, the finest compositional achievement of his entire career. On its own terms it is wondrous, for those who have missed Mays’ contributions to the Metheny Group this will fill a much needed hole, but in terms of the keyboardist/composers’ oeuvre as a leader this quite simply is the piece de resistance and easily fits as the bookend to the self titled opus and a perfect capstone to a remarkable career and life.

Music: 10/10

Sound: 9.5/10

Equipment used for review:

HP Pavilion X360 laptop (for digital promo streaming)

Marantz NR1200 stereo receiver (used as preamp)

Marantz MM 7025 power amplifier with AKM 4000 series dual DAC’s

Focal Chora 826 speakers

Beyerdynamic DT 770 Pro headphones

Audioquest Forest and Golden Gate cables

Canare 4S11 speaker cable

#lyle mays #pat metheny group #eberhard weber #ecm records

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watchtower-feed · 5 years ago

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Death Do We Part (Part 14)

SSA Spin-off ✧ Jason Todd ✧ Physical Link ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧ Words: 2,100+

“Think about Y/N!” Bruce shouts, making you stop and stare at your hands, a pen hovering over Jason’s last words.

Jason’s grip falters. Of course, he’s thinking of you. Every single minute of every single day, all he’s done is think of you. All of the things he’s done is for you. You and him. That’s why he has to do this.

His voice comes out like a low growl. “Decide now... Do it.”

Bruce is shaking his head and holding the gun with both of his hands, trembling. Jason glares at him and pushes the barrel of the gun harder against Tim’s temple.

“Him or me! Decide!”

“Y/N!”

Alfred’s voice forces your eyes toward him, his trembling hands gripping the back of the couch, and you see the screen, Bruce’s feed closing in on Tim’s face, eyes wide, body struggling, and his head is moving like he’s yelling through the gags despite the gun pressed against his temple.

The gun Jason’s holding.

“You have to do something.”

�� The pen is still hovering over your skin. You move its tip from your forearm toward the back of your palm and you clench your teeth before you stab yourself.

Jason gasps in pain and drops the gun as blood leaks between his thumb and index finger.

Bruce’s instincts kick in before the gun drops. He comes up from under Jason and kicks him in the chest, forcing him away from the gun and Tim.

Jason reacts quickly and tugs on the rope tied around Tim’s arms to throw Robin behind him. Tim’s body hits the foundation of the stage, breaking in the platform’s scaffolds.

Your whole body freezes as Bruce immediately catches sight of what’s hidden underneath the stage. It’s a bomb with a timer that has 10 seconds left on the clock.

Jason straightens himself up, “I was really hoping you would make the right choice.” His voice no longer sounded angry or broken. He’s disappointed. Slowly he takes out the trigger from his pocket and presses it without another word. The timer on the bomb starts counting down.

Bruce moves quickly and lunges toward Tim. But Jason grabs his legs midair, making both of them slam hard on the tiled floor just a few feet away from Tim.

“Not doing so will only get everyone you love killed!“

Bruce doesn’t even take a moment to look at his son. He keeps his eyes on Tim and kicks Jason's nose.

You throw your head back and quickly use your arms to brace yourself on the counter. You can feel blood coming from your nose and your ears are ringing. But you fight through the pain and try your hardest to focus on the screen.

Bruce is holding Tim in his arms and running out of the club. Alfred is already holding a cloth over your nose but you grab his hand. “Wait. What about Jason?”

Your eyes are immediately drawn back to the screen, to Bruce staring at the club as blinding light consumes its interior. You drop your hold on Alfred and your arms hang limp by your side. You stare at the screen with wide eyes and big tears stream down your face.

“Jason…” Bruce whispers and stays unmoved on the ground until the light finally dies down. Helpless. Useless. Numb.

Tim is still struggling against his restraints. He tries to kick himself toward Bruce. When Bruce finally notices him he takes his mouth gag off first.

“Bruce, it’s fake! It’s all fake!”

✧ ✧ ✧

A few hours before the sun had gone down and hidden itself from Gotham, Tim woke up in Black Mask’s club ungagged and unbound. He quickly jumps up and eyes Jason warily who’s rummaging through a duffle bag.

Jason throws Tim his Robin costume, stolen from the cave during Scarecrow’s raid on the Wayne manor.

“Put that on before the others arrive.”

Tim stares at his suit in his hands before his brows furrow and he looks back at Jason.

“Is this a joke?”

“You could always just stay in your civs and let the whole Arkham gallery know your secret identity.” Jason takes something from his pocket and reads out the card. “Timothy Drake-Wayne. Business. Heh. Pegged you for a sciency guy.”

Tim doesn’t respond to his provocation. Jason snorts. He knows Tim is too smart for that. But he still hoped they could indulge in some small talk before getting right down to business.

“What the hell are you planning, Jason?”

“What I have to to keep Y/N safe.” He walks over to the bar and settles himself in front of his drink. “And you.”

Tim doesn’t know what to say to that or what to make of it. He keeps quiet. Jason stares into his glass.

“Bruce needs to know that he can’t protect using his methods. That being a symbol can only get through to those who are weak.” He clutches the glass in his hands and glares at it. “But what about the ones he can’t intimidate-- the ones who have greater fears than a Bat-- bigger than death.”

“So... you just plan on killing them--”

“Yes, Tim. Every single one until Gotham has no need for places like Arkham fucking asylum!” He slams the glass on the table and finally turns to Tim. “It’s a breeding ground for crazies funded by the people’s taxes!” He clenches his teeth. “It’s where they’re keeping the Joker alive. Fed. Rested. Alive.”

Tim narrows his eyes. And there it is. His motive. “You’re delusional, Jason. This is all just about revenge--”

“Do you know--!” Jason interrupts but quickly stops himself, bothered by the way his volume keeps rising. He takes one deep breath before he speaks again, forcing himself to be more calm and reasonable. “Do you know what he’ll do, if he finds out that I’m alive? About what he’s been itching to do to the new Robin? Or god forbid if the psychotic lunatic finds out about Y/N?”

Tim visibly flinches. He doesn’t. He can only guess as far as his imagination can take him but if the Joker ever finds out about your physical link, it would open a whole new avenue of ways to torture Jason and Bruce.

“We can help you. Both of you.”

Jason shakes his head. “I can help you-- I am helping you.”

His phone vibrates against the table and he immediately points his gun at Tim. “Don’t even think about it.” He keeps it trained on Tim as he answers. When he finally hangs up, he gets up and walks toward Tim.

“Put the suit on. The others are coming.”

“I won’t--”

“They know I caught Robin and you’re holding the fucking costume. Do you want your identity revealed? Do you want to expose Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and Y/N, too?”

Tim clenches his fist and thrusts his chest out at Jason until there’s only a foot distance between them. “You already did that, you coward! You sent Scarecrow--”

“Yeah!” Jason’s fiery voice rings inside the empty club. “And I killed Scarecrow! Shot him in the head before he could breathe a single word to anyone. I told them Batman’s a fucking socialist who’s using billionaire Bruce Wayne’s power supply to run his whole operation and the other dumbfucks bought it! But when Crane saw the manor-- and Y/N coming out of there-- he put two and two together!”

Tim’s eyes are wide and his posture falters.

“Scarecrow’s… dead? You murdered him...”

Jason wants to snap at him. But instead he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes, Robin! So is Black Mask-- killed him this morning. And tonight the rest of them are goners too! Blowing them up to high heavens before their much-awaited descent into hell!”

Jason suddenly grabs Tim’s arm, “And you--” He stabs him with another tranquilizer but it’s not as strong as the last one. Tim’s mind and senses are still active but he can’t move any part of his body. Jason catches him and gently lays him on the ground. He starts stripping Tim’s clothes to dress him in his Robin costume.

“Tonight I’m going to prove to you that Bruce is no better than me. That when everything he loves is in danger right in front of him-- when he’s really forced to choose between saving his family and subjecting a murderer to death…” He pauses when he puts on the tunic over Tim’s chest.

“He’ll choose you.”

He finishes putting the costume on in silence. Then he props Tim up on his side and starts tying his legs and arms behind his back with some rope.

“When he realizes that I might actually kill you-- You know, after he sees me kill the Joker in front of him with this gun.” He takes it out of his holster and shows Tim that the magazine only has one bullet inside. “I’ll give it to him and he’ll shoot me in the face. Well… for your sake, I hope he does.”

“I hope he’s grown a pair and finally understands that you have to kill the bad guys or no one is safe.”

Jason turns to face Tim.

“If he doesn’t, this will definitely do the trick.” He moves toward the stage and lifts the curtain of the scaffolds to reveal the bomb. Tim’s pupils dilate at the sight of it.

“Don’t worry, Timmy. The bomb’s not real. Nice touch on the timer, huh? I bet it’ll knock all common sense right out of Bruce’s head. He won’t even know. He’ll act on instinct and save you.”

Jason walks back to Tim and places a strong plaster over his mouth.

“Finally, he’ll be able to save Robin.”

✧ ✧ ✧

When Bruce and Tim make it back to the safehouse, there’s tension between them. Tim doesn’t even look at you or Alfred before he shuts himself in his room. Bruce stands awkwardly by the door as he takes off his cowl.

None of you say anything. None of you know what to say. After Tim’s outburst, Bruce had quickly ran back into the club and only found the Joker’s corpse inside. They searched Arkham all night but they couldn’t find Jason. They couldn’t find Dick in the river either.

You finally force your legs off the couch and head off to your room. Bruce stops you. You turn to find him looking at you with a forlorn look on his face. “I’m sorry,” he says as he points to your nose. Then in a softer voice he says, “Thank you.”

You turn away from him. “What for? It was all fake anyway--”

“Thank you for choosing to save Tim.”

You flinch. You clench your fist and punch Bruce on the jaw. Immediately you start nursing your hand because it hurts you more than him. But your anger is still seeping over. “Of course I would save Tim-- Of course I would help you-- But you should have saved Jason, too!”

Bruce keeps quiet as he looks at you.

You know it’s unfair because if you had been in that situation, you don’t know what you would’ve done-- How could you save both Tim and Jason? But Bruce is Batman, and just like his children, you expect him to know.

Your eyes scrunch up and you purse your lips before you walk off into your own room.

When you close the door and turn on your lights, you jump at the sight of Tim sitting in the chair by your desk. He doesn’t say anything.

“What are you doing in here, Tim?”

Tim tenses at the irritation in your voice. You watch as his shoulders slump forward and he holds the back of his neck with one hand. His mask is off and his eyes are downcast.

“Dick’s… not here. And I need someone right now…” He extends a hand toward you. “For one night, can we pretend to be friends again?”

Your body suddenly relaxes and you finally see the hurt expression on his face. You walk forward and embrace Tim.

“I don’t want to pretend. I miss having you as a friend.”

Tim pauses before he hugs you back. When you break away, he waits for you to settle yourself at the foot of your bed before he starts talking.

“Thank you… For doing what Bruce couldn’t.” He looks at you and watches as you nurse your hand. There’s another pause before Tim speaks again.

“Jason was right. I still won’t agree to murder but… to know the truth that… if it came down to my life and a villain’s life-- I can’t count on Bruce.”

“That’s not true,” you interrupt softly. “Bruce saved you. He got you out of the building, even if it was a fake bomb.”

“And he left Jason to die. You would have died.” You stare at the ground and bring your knees close to your chest. When you watched the blinding light in the club go out, you braced yourself for the blast, waited for death again.

Tim rubs his head and messes up his hair before he sighs deeply. Thinking about everything is only messing with his head. He groans before he speaks again, irritated.

“He told me his plan. Jason wanted Bruce to save me. Wanted him to make the hard choices he didn’t make for Jason.”

“Jason wanted to make sure Robin doesn’t die again,” you whisper.

You rest your head on your knees as you look at Tim. Your lips tremble as you watch him struggle with his thoughts.

He stares at his hands with narrowed eyes before you hear his broken voice.

“... I don’t know if I want to be Robin anymore.”

✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#ssa #Jason Todd #Red Hood #DC imagines #Death Do We Part #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #Jason Todd imagine #Jason Todd fanfiction #Jason Todd x reader #Red Hood imagine #Red Hood fanfiction #Red Hood x reader #watchtower-feed #atbucud

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the-writerly-night-owl · 5 years ago

Text

A Very Full House

Desire and Decorum/MC x Ernest Sinclaire

Summary: Clara just wants to hold her baby too bad that there is so many obstacles. Although a welcome side moment with her husband wouldn’t hurt.

Authors Note: Not much, hoping to write an OH story when the second book starts releasing. I’m clarifying the kids here I hope it makes sense. At this point Clara has 2 girls and 3 boys. Briar has 3 girls and 1 boy. Then Theresa has 2 of each. Enjoy!

Edgewater felt packed, or least Clara felt that way even though they had plenty of rooms to go around. She and Ernest would frequently switch between Edgewater and Ledford every other month. Perhaps it just felt like there was a lot with three babies now sitting at the table with them. She had to assure Theresa that being more hands on with their children was more accepted these days. It was 1826 for crying out loud.

Her brother Edmund was already talking her ear off as they headed inside. It had been a rather fun day and it was going to be even better with her family.

As soon as she opened the door, she could hear the pianoforte being played. Jane Foredale and Katherine Marlcaster learning a new piece. Her own daughter, Georgiana, and Julia Marlcaster were playing with their dolls making them talk to each other.

Georgiana saw her and ran over to her and into her skirt hugging her around the waist. “Mama!”

She leaned down and got in her knees to hug her before sending her back to play. They would catch up later tonight. Georgiana always had fun stories to tell.

“Clara,” said Briar holding another daughter, as she saw her friend and rushed over to her. “The cook was wondering what you’d like for dinner. The children want pork, but I keep arguing that we should have turkey.”

“Let’s the children pick the pork, we had turkey only two days ago,” she said. “Now I must check on Mabel.”

She stepped back when the boys sped past her. Henry was totally Briar’s son, they had the same energy. She didn’t know where Timothy got it from between Theresa and Harry, but he was fast. Vincent trying to catch up to them with the others following behind. Shaking her head Clara hurried up the steps. Her visit to Lady Cordelia Harper’s home took a little longer then expected. Right now, she just wanted to hold her baby.

At the top of the steps waiting for her was Ernest. She felt a blush run through her veins and took a deep breath. Perhaps kissing him would make her feel better too. Plus, she had some special news.

“Clara,” said Ernest as she reached him and pulled her in for a kiss. “How was Cordelia?”

“She is great, and the twins are even better,” she said giggling and pressed her body against his. “They are very adorable you know. Almost as cute as our children.”

“As long as almost was in that sentence,” said Ernest teasingly pulling her into his office. To think, about a decade ago, this used to be her father’s office. There was a slightly twinge her stomach thinking about it and then just smiled. She thought of her father often and honored their first son with his name.

They were going to be alone for only a short amount of time before they were caught. She brushed her lips against his. Ernest catching on kissed her back pulling her even closer backing up to the desk. He sat her safely on the top adjusting, so she didn’t sit on anything. Her arms pulled him tightly against her while he broke the kiss and down her jaw line. A flutter light up her stomach as she adjusted to touch the bare skin of his waist.

Knock. Knock.

A bit frustrated she turned from her husband and sighed.

“Come in,” said Ernest as he straightened his shirt.

From the door peered in Harry as he coughed some seeing the two together. “You two were kissing, weren’t you?” he asked and flushed. “Never mind I don’t think I want to know. After all you don’t ask when Theresa and I are doing it. Ernest, I have Mr. Peterman’s notes about his farm’s land boundaries. I thought to just drop them off.”

Clara could only giggle at how he awkwardly stood in the door. He wasn’t looking anywhere at them and scratched behind his ear. Then stepped in to drop off the paperwork needed.

“I’m just going to go now,” he said leaving them alone.

Seeing the door firmly shut behind him, Clara laughed and pulled Ernest by his cravat close. As silly as it was, she looked forward to the day men no longer wore cravats. She wouldn’t mind kissing down his neck occasionally.

Until they heard a baby cry.

“Don’t go yet, this might be only time alone together,” whispered Ernest tickling her ear some. “It might not be our daughter. “Perhaps it’s Briar’s Rebecca? Or Theresa’s Lucy?”

“Or Clara’s Mabel,” she teased. “We can pick up this after dinner, later tonight. I want to hold our daughter.”

“Very well I will hold you to that Mrs. Sinclaire.”

With that she cast him a sly smile before walking back out into the hall. Waiting for her was Dominique who just looked very amused.

“Your hair is out of place my dear,” she said fixing it for her. “Now I have been wondering if another portrait will be done soon?”

Oh she hadn’t thought of that. Um, perhaps it was high time again. Especially since there was a new baby. By now she had her fifth, Briar on fourth, and Theresa on her fourth. There was 20 people living in the house this month.

“Perhaps soon if you’d like to set it up,” she said brightly making her way to Mabel’s room. She was relieved to hear that it wasn’t her daughter crying that meant.

Geez, that was Lucy, as Theresa was bouncing her daughter in her arms walking by the room. “Clara,” she said seeing her. “Can you b…”

“No, I want to spend time with my daughter. I’ve been waiting all day since Cordelia can only see call upon a person one at a time.”

Theresa Foredale just laughed some as Lucy mimicked her. “I wasn’t going to keep you from Mabel. It’s just that I saw them mumbling along something this afternoon in the nursery. I think they’re learning how to talk to each other already.”

Now that was exciting as Clara went into the room and picked Mabel up from her crib. The one year old clapped her hands when she saw her. This is what was hoping to see. Her blond curls bounced as she rolled back and forth on her heel.

She lifted her arms to be picked up as Clara squeezed her and kissed her cheek. “Mama,” she said and tugged at her hair. Then pointed to Theresa and Lucy. “Loo.”

“Yea that’s Lucy.”

This was what she was waiting for while they headed down check on dinner. It was a packed house but very worth it to have everyone around her. Her very special news was going to come along with dessert. Turns out Percival was going to get here a day early, add that to one more person at the dinner table.

Tag list: @itsbrindleybinch @jlpplays1 @brightpinkpeppercorn @darley1101 @fluffy-cat-whisper @adrianadmirer @flyawayboo @queen-among-writers @am-i-invisible777 @symonde @paisleylovergirl @elainew13 @mfackenthal @writerapprentice @indescribablechoices @perriewinklenerdie @hellooliviaolivia @noeschoices @princess-geek

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