#by…well…you guess who

[baileys-writing-desk]

In which a robot toddler is dropped off with its dragon grandpa

Link has had enough of the rude robot Scrapper, and decides to hand him over to Lanayru.

AO3

“So, Master Shortpants! Will you ever let me play with Mistress Fi, vrrm?”

Link sighs. “I told you, no! Now stop blabbing, we’re almost there!” He flies straight forward on Crimson, with Scrapper close by, over the vast sands of Lanayru Desert.

“Aww, that’s not fair, voo-weep! I can handle a sword just fine, you watch me!”

“I said no, Scrapper.” Ugh! Will this guy ever shut up?!

“Why not, zrrrbt!? Huh?? Am I not old enough or somethin’? Cause I know what I’m doin’! I—“

The Skyloftian glares at the robot. “No. I can’t trust you with a sword. You’ll chop someone’s head off! Or, you’ll drop it and lose it. That sword is too precious for child’s play. And that’s final.” He exhales loudly, relieved that the border of the desert is quickly approaching. A bit longer and he can drop Scrapper off with Lanayru…

“I hate you, Master Shortpants! You won’t let me do anything, zzzazt! You took Mistress Fi away from me! And she was the reason I carried all those stupid things for you, ker-dizzt!”

“Well, I’m sorry, okay?!” Link snaps back. “We’ve been over this!”

“Yeah, and I still hate you, bzzrt! You stink!”

Crimson speeds up a bit, apparently just as tired of the robot’s pointless ranting as the hero. Luckily, Link can make out Lanayru’s yellow robe in the clearing ahead. Just a little longer…

“What, you’re not gonna say anything now, krrboosh-CLANG?!” Scrapper laughs from behind. “Pathetic. There better be a dragon here soon, voo-weep!”

“He’s right there.” Thank Hylia. He doesn’t know how much longer he can stand this. Not only does Scrapper hate his guts already, the robot is also convinced he killed Fi despite many assurances otherwise.

“Wait, what do you mean, bzzzt?” Scrapper pauses before seemingly having noticed Lanayru. “Is that it? The big yellow thing, zrrm?!”

“Yes, that’s him.” They are close enough now that more of the Thunder Dragon’s features come into view. He’s sitting in his usual spot, arms folded across his chest.

“What is that thing, vrrt?! Ew! Is he going to eat me? Please, I don’t want to get eaten, zrrbt!”

“Shh!” Link whisper-shouts, eyes going wide. “Stop that, you idiot! He’ll hear you!”

Now directly over the clearing, he whistles to Crimson—the okay signal for a dismount—and jumps off the Loftwing, holding up his Sailcloth as he falls to slow his descent. He hears a frantic “WHAT ARE YOU DOING??” from Scrapper, who quickly follows.

“Don’t yell like that, I’m fine,” he replies, feet touching the grass. He ties the cloth around his waist as the robot lands next to him, and Lanayru greets him.

“Link! I was just thinking about you, boy! How’ve you been—“

Before the dragon can finish, Scrapper interrupts. “Wow, it’s even weirder close up, zzzrrt! It’s so chubby!”

Lanayru’s eyebrow furrows in confusion. Link gasps and claps a hand over Scrapper’s mouth, utterly horrified.

“Stop that! You do not treat dragon deities that way, do you understand me?! Where are your manners??”

The robot mutters something behind Link’s hand. And Lanayru…A hint of recognition appears in his eyes.

“Oh my Hylia…” The Thunder Dragon mutters. “Is that—?!”

Scrapper slaps Link’s hand away. “LD-301S Scrapper, at your service, voo-weep! Now tell me, what’s with that long beard?”

Link nudges the robot’s side, whispering “Stop it!” Then he glances up at Lanayru. “I must apologize…I believe he’s yours?”

The old dragon is speechless for a moment, holding his hands over his mouth. “I…” He pauses, lowering them and gaping at the flying robot. “…That’s my transport robot! I built it all those years ago…How could I have forgotten about you?” He grins at Scrapper. “Welcome home, little one. I never thought I would see you again!”

Ah, Lanayru built that thing, Link wonders, wishing for a moment that the dragon never had.

Scrapper flies up so he is just out of the hero’s reach. “Who the fuck are you, bzrrt?!”

“LANGUAGE!” shouts Link. Hylia above, where did he learn THAT word??

“Now, surely you haven’t forgotten me!” Lanayru chuckles deeply, folding his arms across his chest. “But perhaps, I didn’t make you capable of long-term memory like the others.” He sighs. “I was your Master Thunder Dragon. You used to carry things for me, and the other robots. But you took quite a liking to me, I recall.”

“Wait, hold on, vrrrrt! You do look a bit familiar…Oh! I might know your name! You’re named after some goddess out there or something, zrrat!”

The old dragon nods. “Yes, I’m Lanayru. After the goddess Nayru.”

“Lanayru, voo-weep!” Scrapper spins around in the air. “That’s fun to say! Lanayru! Lanayru! Ooh, I need a nickname for you, like I have with Master Shortpants!”

“Master what—?!“ The Thunder Dragon stares at the hero, who simply laughs.

“He’s got quite an attitude,” says Link. “I don’t know where he got it from, but it’s almost as if he was raised by the Water Dragon. He has no manners whatsoever, and it’s infuriating.”

Before Lanayru can respond, Scrapper shouts excitedly. “Ooh! I got it, bzzzt-CLANG! Master Chub-Chub! ‘Cause of that big belly, heehee!”

“Oh boy.” Lanayru sighs again. “No. You are not calling me that.”

“Awww, why not, vrrrpt? You’re no fun! Boring old dragon!” He turns around to glare at Link, presumably for taking him here. The Skyloftian ignores the robot and focuses on the Thunder Dragon.

“Please, Lanayru,” he begs in frustration. “Just take him. I can’t do this.”

“He’s bothering you, I see? My deepest apologies, boy. I will take him off your hands.”

“Oh, thank you.” Link sighs with relief. Thank Hylia, thank Farore, thank them all!

But Scrapper, unfortunately, is too stubborn. “Master Shortpants, you can’t leave me here, vrrrt! It’s weird over here, zrrrbt! There’s nothing to do! And this weirdly familiar dragon is ugly, voo-weep!”

“That’s enough!” Lanayru scolds, throwing his hands in the air. “Don’t you know how to treat your own creator?! Unacceptable! I taught you better than this!”

Link winces, hoping the old dragon hasn’t just changed his mind with the frustration in his words. Where did he get this attitude anyway?, he wonders, staring at Scrapper who spins around impatiently.

“I’m sorry,” he tells Lanayru, “I know I’m asking a lot of you, but…”

“Oh, please. He’s one of mine, you think I would turn him down? Sure, this one’s nothing short of a nuisance, but it’s really nothing I can’t handle.” The Thunder Dragon pauses as Scrapper suddenly flies past Link and toward the dense gathering of trees. “Hey! Scrapper, where are you going?! You get back here!”

The Skyloftian giggles. Just like a fucking toddler. But Lanayru’s face lights up, and Link turns to see several other LD-301 robots emerge to meet Scrapper. Oh, whew. At the very least this may give the stubborn robot a reason to stay, and not follow Link back reluctantly like a whiny remlit.

“Well, let’s hope he gets along with them,” says the hero, as the robots mutter amongst themselves. “And you…do you think he’ll ever remember you?”

Lanayru shrugs. “Perhaps. You never know with robots like him. Although, I’m hoping he does. Then he’ll show respect to me, instead of that ridiculous nickname he just used. Hoo boy…” He lets out a long sigh. “301S has always been a handful. Even back then.”

“Oh, I bet. You know…there is one thing I would like to bring up with you. He, uh…” Link gulps and gazes hesitantly at a waiting Lanayru. “Well, he’s been in ‘love’ with my sword.”

The Thunder Dragon throws his head back in a bellowing laugh. “I—I’m sorry, what?!”

“Yeah, it’s more of the spirit that used to—“

“Hey! Bzzzrt, I heard that!” Scrapper quickly flies back up to them, staying closer to Lanayru this time. Another robot follows through the grass. Oh shit…oops.

“What are you two doin’, talking about me behind my back, zzzzazt?! I’ll have you know Mistress Fi was the most beautiful thing I’ve laid my eye on, vrrrrt!”

Lanayru chuckles, having seemingly understood upon hearing Fi’s name. “Well…okay? How peculiar, Scrapper.”

“Yeah, and she’s gone now, voo-weep! She’s in the sword forever…And I wanted to play with it, zrrrbt!” The robot angrily points at Link. “But this meanie-pants over here said no!”

Link doesn’t bother to argue anymore, scowling teasingly instead. He doesn’t know how many times they’ve been over this already.

“Hey, knock that off.” Lanayru frowns at Scrapper. “You do not treat the chosen hero that way! And he’s right, I won’t let you handle a sword like that. It could seriously hurt someone when used carelessly.” The old dragon folds his arms across his chest. “Are we clear?”

At first the robot says nothing, while Lanayru raises an eyebrow in anticipation. But then he briefly bows forward, out of what looks like respect to his creator.

“Yes, Master Thunder Dragon, bzzzrt!”

Link sighs with relief. It seems that Scrapper is finally remembering after all.

[bookwyrminspiration]

I can behave normally around books

[canisalbus]

Trying to figure out modern Ludovica.

[tuttle-did-it]

David Tennant for Prime Minister, please.

edit- Since this is getting so much attention, edited to include descriptions of screenshots.

This woman has lost her fucking mind.

Jo, are you okay?

[lgbtlunaverse]

There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.

[acid-ixx]

prequel: again &. again. (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: prequel, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three

read until the end for an author's note.

what hurts more when it comes to neglectful batfam that adopted you after jason's death (that eventually turns a 360 after you have left) is probably the fact that they always had time for you, it's just that they never chose to spend it on you; an extra burden to their family rather than an addition. if they had time to spend, they spend it on anything or anyone else but you. it's not that you don't share interests with them, it's just...! they have way more priorities that push you further back into their list of 'to do's'; though you know you'll always be the last of that list.

bruce has to juggle so many tasks as the billionaire playboy "brucie wayne", a father of an ever growing family, and gotham's dark knight vigilante but somehow, you're aware he could easily fit in one or two more children into his already booked schedule— he just never seems to consider you worthy enough apparently. or maybe it was because you were too silent, you set boundaries compared to your other family who are outspoken about what they want, what they need— but there's one thing for sure that sets you off from your siblings; you're not a vigilante.

you were merely a child of a one night stand; a child raised too well. you were behaved, you never complained, and you were just, you. and being normal (at least in their level of extraordinary talents were you a mere droplet) amongst a family of talented individuals makes you easily a ghost. was bruce to blame with his neglect? definitely. if he was able to balance his life so easily, then maybe as the world's best detective would he notice you packing your things day by day without update. maybe that was why you never once hesitated the moment you stepped outside the manor, permanently.

dick's excuse would always be "sorry, baby bird! but i promised to spar with damian today. ah, but you can watch from the sidelines!" or he would be too busy saving bludhaven to even acknowledge your presence. sure, he smiles at you with those shiny teeth of his, but despite him looking at you, he never notices you for more than a second, right after he would skidadle his way to another sibling's room, bothering them to spend more time with him, never you though. it occurs to you that he has only entered your bedroom once, and that occurrence was years ago. even then, he didn't last a minute inside there before running away once more.

family matters more than anything to dick. hell, he was enraged at the announcement of jason's death and even beat joker to a bloody pulp when he realized tim fell into his hands. he's ready to defend damian, barbara, steph, cass, and duke with his life. it's his duty and obligation as the family's eldest brother, of course. but were you considered family to him? were you considered a sibling in his eyes, or were you just the resident roommate of the mansion? you question that endlessly because everyone, family and friends, seem to be smitted with dick, but you eventually gave up trying to vye for his attention. it's fine, really, if you were just another civilian to him, because he was just another person to you too. just like in a circus, you would always be the intermission rather than the main event. and with that, you take your leave.

jason was the most forgivable to you, second to tim. he was never there, and he would've probably put effort into spending time with you if not for the fact he despises bruce and the mansion and wouldn't and couldn't last a second stepping into it. he never met you when he was robin, it was only right after his death did he discover were you taken in and that added fact alongside tim being his replacement turned him bitter with resentment. though his hatred for you receded over time, he wouldn't really be caught taking a minute with you because he always sneaks inside the mansion and crime in gotham never seems to lessen. because of that, and your unwillingness to become a vigilante to kick ass with him and the others, he wouldn't be able to fully take an hour with you.

casual talks are unavoidable, though, when at the dead of the night he would be caught sneaking in to eat some leftovers and you were conveniently awake at the same time as him. he'll recommend you some classic literature he read or 'cafes/restaurants that criminals visit the least' lists, but before it would turn into a full conversation, jason would already be wearing his signature mask again, and with a pat on your head and a "talk to you soon, can't guarantee it'll be tomorrow again though, only here for alfred's meals of course," and he'll be gone. you shouldn't have let your hopes high, you wished you didn't because, duh! he wasn't there to talk to you, specifically. you were just there to bide his time! wiping tears away from your eyes, and with a heavy heart, you book an apartment away from the wayne manor with your own atm card; hope irreversibly dead and unable to revive a sliver of faith, even if it was dipped in the lazarus pit would it never come back as the same.

tim drake is always tired. just like bruce, his days are filled with investigation, crime fighting, and worst of all; high school. that's of course that least of his worries the moment he drops out. tim was never the guy to talk much. he only does when he needs to make an impression for others, or when he needs to manipulate people for potential information. his life revolved around fighting, from when he solved the case of bruce wayne and dick grayson being batman and robin respectively, up to his current identity as red robin and occasionally robin. he'll often be found in the batcave working with babs on a case or working alone in his room.

it's no mistake that you were the most distant to him, never once knowing about his interests or even hobbies and vice versa. it was a given that at the very moment you pass a glance at him, you knew it was a 'mind your business' type of relationship with him. if you were a mere ghost to dick, then you were just a spec of dust to tim. it was unfair to assume he would never care for you, he does! only in a way where you were another person to save if you ever were endangered, but would that be enough to stalk you to the point he gains every insight about you? not really. you weren't one of his friends, like kon who he would spend weekly video game challenges with; and you probably don't exist as his sibling in his own little world filled with coffee and computers. yeah, your feelings about leaving him weren't as bitter as the caffeine he drowns in his system, but you were still hurt either way.

damian wayne, from his birth, was taught and raised to prioritize his mission as an al ghul, to be the one continuing the legacy and to shed blood on anyone who opposes. when he was given over to bruce, it took a hell lot of effort to turn a new page and become the next robin. it was, with no doubt, that despite his 'redemption', he would be a tad bit crueler to you than the others. unlike tim, who he persistently bothers, you were untalented, worthless, and a stain on the reputation of the wayne's. even jason, his father's greatest mistake, had more value than you.

maybe it was fine-tuned jealousy, maybe he was mirroring his father and dick's actions towards you with his own sick twist of violence. either way, you would rather avoid the boy, lest you face the wrath of his sword. it wouldn't be wrong if you came to hate him, actually you do, but despite your endless game of cat and mouse with you as the unwilling victim of the chase, your poor heart couldn't fathom the thought of not excusing his actions as that of a child's. you tell yourself everyday, 'just ignore it, he was raised like as to be a menace after all' but you can't deny the bitterness and the clenching of your teeth whenever you stumble upon a room and see your father and your younger brother watching a movie together. the resentment eventually builds up until you blow up and just, give up. within your final moments in the manor, you figured to leave some belongings that you collected overtime that were supposedly memorabilias that you wish to show off to your family. like his pieces of art, you could only explain your life in the family as black and white and as bleak as the streaks of charcoal that rubs against the pages.

when dick was jogging through the desolate halls of the manor, he noticed the place seemed to be more... empty of some sort. and he knows pushing that feeling into the back of his head would only result in more questions than answers. so he decides to enter the spare rooms one by one until he comes across your room (he doesn't know it was yours, though), turning the knob without knocking.

that was when his eyes seem to dilate. his nose catched a faint whiff of bleach (was the room deep-cleaned?), vision seemingly closing in on the few furniture left alongside a diary and other boxes left neatly on your bed, with other smaller trinkets left untouched on your bedside table. he didn't remember you mentioning anything about leaving, hell, he doesn't want to admit his lack of memories about you but—

wait...

didn't he promise to take you out for dinner months ago...?

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: this is one of my favorite pieces of writing i have ever done and i like it a lot so i hope whoever reads this likes it too. if you all want to read more of this, then please leave a comment or reblog because i heavily appreciate it and it motivates me further to write this type of content! the reason i have come to a long hiatus is because, as stated, the lack of interaction with content. like i said, i will still write for genshin but i am open to expanding my fandom list. (p.s. i hope you like the way i had to connect their interests or a part of their past to the reader.)

heavily inspired by @klemen-tine's work: Glass Bones and Paper Skin, @gotham-daydreams' work: Not [], and @onmyyan's work: Ain't No Sunshine.

[doydoune]

hey have you heard of this brand new aa trend that totally just came out

[bacchuschucklefuck]

they licensed his ass

my finished piece of the FWMS (official name definitely 100%) thing we started a few days ago! I had fun I hope folks had and/or continue to have fun with the sketch as well.

[linkedin-offficial]

youll never guess where ive been

[egophiliac]

like mother, like son, but less wholesome this time?

(I couldn't decide whether or not to put them together, so have them in all the different ways!)

[technically-human]

Welcome to the reverse verse! This is part 1 of 2 of a commission for @i-am-as-normal-as-you-are and I can't wait to tell you all about it, because I'm incapable of being normal and chill about these concepts, so I ran with it.

Charles Rowland was born in 1900, his mum was from India and moved to the UK after marrying Charles' dad, a soldier who was not... very loving. Charles' heritage gave him some problems, but none as bad as that one time in 1916 when he was sacrificed to a demon and spent the next 7 decades in Hell. He doesn't like to talk about it, except when it can get him what he wants. He was always an angry boy, or so he thought, but after his time spent in Hell, it became so much worse. He's explosive and unpredictable, and so he mostly avoids conflict. He doesn't need to fight anyone, as his charming personality and sweet smile (plus a few smart calculations) always seem to be enough to convince people to give him what he asks for. And when the fight is inevitable... well, he has Edwin for that!

Edwin Payne grew up very sheltered, in a deeply religious home, and he is proud of that. Don't try to argue with him, because he surely has a Bible verse that will help him win (and if not, he is not above using his croquet mallet now that he has someone to keep safe). Unfortunately for him, he realized at a quite young age that he felt attraction towards other boys. Even worse, somehow other people could tell as well, including those peers that ended up killing him for it (the rumour spread throughout school was that he had died due to AIDS, and most people just accepted it). He never acted on those unnatural urges of his, but when he met this ghost who had just escaped Hell... he decided not to risk eternal damnation, and to stay here with Charles, instead. Edwin has no interest in the supernatural or in magic, and sort of looks down on them, but luckily his friend's got that covered.

[thevioletcaptain]

y'know, the different factions of spn fandom on tumblr do fundamentally and vehemently disagree with each other about a lot of things, and many of the factions actively hate one another, but i just want to say for the record that i appreciate the fact that this site is not overrun with painfully hetero facebook fans. i just saw someone over there saying with their whole chest that they fully expected the finale to have dean meeting jo harvelle in heaven and them getting afterlife married, and someone else angrily responded that this was obviously never going to happen because clearly dean was still in love with lisa braeden who would therefore be his finale bride (i guess this person expected her to die in the finale somehow?), and then someone ELSE responded that they wouldn't want to see either of those things happen because they like to pretend dean is their boyfriend and it would feel like cheating(!!!!) if he ended up with one of them and they'd never be able to fantasize about him anymore. and all of these comments had over a dozen people agreeing with them.

[vaguely-concerned]

So much of Garak as a person starts to make sense once you know his childhood was a fucking gothic novel. His main playground was a graveyard and he'd play pretend by perfoming improv eulogies to an imagined audience. For a long time his main touchstone for most important figures from recent history is 'oh yeah I know about that guy my dad buried him. great flower arrangements for that one'. He finds out later his 'parents' are actually a brother and sister who had to get married to avoid the utter shame and social devastation of having a child born out of wedlock, and they live in the basement of his biological father's house. (the madwoman in the attic vs. the tiny elim in the basement.) His biological father calls himself his uncle and locks him in a closet whenever he fails to live up to his insane and unpredictable expectations and everyone just has to act like that's normal and expected, and his will hangs over everything at all times, unseen but always felt keener than anything else. The father who actually raised him grows the world's most beautiful (and as it turns out, most poisonous) orchids and keeps the mask of a god hidden in a box in his work shed. Everyone in the house is choking down secrets like it's the only air they know how to breathe anymore.

What I'm saying is that right from the get-go this guy never had the faintest shot at turning out normal, so I'm glad that by middle age he's found a way to get a bit silly with it as he continues to be deeply deeply not normal about anything ever <3

[icantdothistodaybruh]

The BoM side story won't let go of me

[arunneronthird]

third ones the charm

[cowardlykrow]

"Suck it, weeb-ass BEEETCH!"

Richie loses to Ruth. (She probably cheated)