alienzil - Tumblr blog

[alienzil]

i encourage you to go to your favourite writer's ao3 page and comment on an older fic, because i can assure you that it will make their day. It can mean so much to see your work doesn't disappear into the void to be never seen again after a day of people interacting with it. Just, if you have the time, go comment on an older work

(pls reblog this to try and get as much writers a bit of appreciation)

[alienzil]

the infinitely funnier version of enemies to caretaker with Jason and Tim (bc the ooc aged down incompetent Tim and weirdly protective Jason are overdone) is Tim after he gets adopted by Bruce deciding that he can’t have a loser brother that shoots people and refuses to go to therapy

so Tim is like “yeah, I can fix him” and batfam is like “NO TIM YOU CANT, HES A PSYCHOPATH WITH ANGER ISSUES” because at that point it’s been two years(??) and there’s been no to little improvement when it comes to Jason’s behavior

Tim being the stubborn bastard he is doesn’t listen though and in the following weeks (months??) just starts slowly forcing Jason to self reflect and take care of himself. I like to think Tim is threatening Jason with non-lethal violence and/or inconveniencing Jason to an unholy degree (one of said threats is Tim saying he’ll pull up to Jason’s safe house in a Red Hood costume and start shooting him)

in the end you just have a Jason who looks like his soul has left his body but behaving and a smug looking Tim who once again has proved he is right

[alienzil]

Gray and Graysons

One of the Bats has a secret. Something they never told to the others.

They were so very young but they have memories of a sibling, so small and tiny. They remember the burst of warmth they had in their heart when they held the tiny baby for just a moment.

But they weren’t allowed to keep them, their family couldn’t raise them. Money was tight, just enough for three but not for four, despite their shows always bringing in a crowd it was getting harder and harder for the world to be wowed by them in the new age and their sibling was too small and tiny and needed to be cared in a single place than for them to be on the road. Their lifestyle was not good for his tiny sibling apparently.

They had to watch as their parents gave his sibling away to people in suits, them promising to give his baby brother to a loving family when they find a ‘home’ for him. He watched his parents try to be strong only for his mother to break down once the car left down the road, his father holding her and apologizing, the rest of the circus troupe all silently coming over to give the heartbroken family condolences.

Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson had tears running down his face when he last saw his baby brother.

A brother he got to name before he had to be given away.

Daniel ‘Danny’ Grayson.

-x-x-

Dick never told the others. If anyone dug deep into his past they might find his brother’s birth records maybe, if someone got around to digitizing the paperwork for him but given the fact he was placed in the US childcare systems just a few days after his birth and the fact that Dick was still pretty young they most likely believed he didn’t remember his baby brother now. Not after so many years.

But they were wrong, Dick remembers. And he kept the secret close to his heart and memories.

And the only physical evidence he had was a single picture of him holding his brother, a smile on his tiny face towards their father who had taken the photo of them together. When he had lost his parents, lost most of the things that connected him to them, to his past in the circus that had been his whole life, had been taken from him in Gotham’s ruthless childcare system, he held on tight to the picture in secret. Hid it away from anyone trying to rip it from him, hid it from Bruce when the man took him in days later, hid it from Alfred despite how gentle the butler was towards him. He couldn’t, wouldn’t risk losing his photo at the time, he hadn’t trusted anyone and by the time he did he didn’t have the heart to reveal it.

So yes, the existence of his baby brother Danny was his most guarded and best kept secret.

So that’s why Dick, as Nightwing, nearly died from a heart attack when leaving a Justice League meeting he spotted a familiar face among one of the new engineers working in the Watchtower.

It was like seeing a young version of himself. Only, Dick could see that the young man was more than a copy of him, so much more than a clone. He held many traces of John Grayson but also had a bit more of Mary Grayson than Dick did. Small details that Dick foggely remembers taking note when he had held his baby brother.

“Hey, hurry up with that report Gray!” Shouted the head engineer from down the hall, his hand beckoning the young adult to come over.

“Coming! And boss, I told you Danny is fine!” Danny shouted back before hurriedly leaving a stunned Nightwing.

[alienzil]

Shout out to the best joke I’ve ever told, WWDITS style.

(His name is Timothy)

[alienzil]

Ok can we talk about how toph held up a huge ass building? I feel like this is never addressed.

The Gaang is in the sand, which is already hard for Toph to see/feel, and then she holds up this giant library?? While trying to protect Appa.

Also, can we talk about how its not one mass of rock-it's made of bricks, and being held together by gravity. She really said "Every one of you blocks, pillars, tiles, boards, and the rest of you are going to stay in your exact spots and not sink to the spirit world BECAUSE I SAID SO!" while she was fighting super mystical spirit magic. While fighting and actual spirits power. For who knows how long, because Sokka and Aang had time to check every date till Sozins comet would hit at least a few months away.

Can we also talk about how Toph was so upset and ashamed about loosing Appa due to sand bending skill that she practiced hard to perfect it.

[alienzil]

I am not immune to magical animal transformation fics. Also, my cat!Danny agenda. So, like, Damian finding a magically transformed Danny, mistaking him for a regular cat, then sneaking him into the manor obviously tickles my fancy. But also, Cat!Danny winning Alfred over by being a complete narc every time one of the bats try to do something stupid while injured is just... *chef's kiss*

Bruce- *trying to sneak down to the batcave while injured* Danny- *looking for mischief, sees injured Bruce swaying in hallway* Mrow? Bruce- Shh. Danny- *slightly louder* Mrep?! Bruce- I will give you all the tuna in the world if you- Danny- *air raid level yowling*

[alienzil]

Have a nutritious meal!

[alienzil]

WIP excerpt for sakoku_decree; the one where Kryptonians have omegaverse genders, but nobody told Match. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

Superman smells different from just good or natural. He smells . . . 

Safe, Match thinks, even knowing it isn’t right. Even knowing it’s not . . . true. There's no such thing as safe. 

And even if there were, it isn't something Superman would ever be around him. 

But he still smells that way. Match didn't even know “safe” had a smell, but apparently it does, and apparently it's eucalyptus. 

Or . . . Superman, maybe. 

Maybe it's Superman. 

Match feels almost as stupid as Superboy, having that thought. 

“Come on,” Superman says, and gives him a gentle tug before flying down to the Fortress below. Match follows him, feeling like they got here quicker than usual. Or . . . something. Maybe. 

. . . how long were they flying, actually? He's not . . . sure, he's pretty sure. 

He thinks he's not sure. He . . . thinks. 

He feels strange. 

 Superman opens the door like he actually thinks he's Superboy and leads the way inside, and doesn't immediately call him out as an imposter and throw him in a cell. So now Match has been to the Fortress . . . three times, he supposes. 

He doesn't know why he keeps track of these things. Even when they're just . . . things. 

Not relevant things, he means. 

It doesn't matter how many times he's been to the Fortress of Solitude. Match has never actually been here. Just “Superboy”. 

So it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter how many times he's been here or seen Superman or spoken to him or . . . any of it. How many times he's lied to or distracted or misled him. 

None of it's relevant to anyone but him, and that's not relevant to–anything. He's not–

It just doesn't matter how he feels. 

Not that he feels things. Obviously. That's not a thing that he does. 

Everything's just–off, today. Lately. Right now. This week. 

He's probably degrading. He's probably falling apart. He's probably going to be reduced to scrap DNA and used for parts and . . . and . . . 

“Couches alright?” Superman asks. Match doesn't know why he'd ask him something like that. Or anything at all, really, except maybe for an eyewitness report. 

“Yes, sir,” he says, trying to just–to just think straight again. 

It's not working very well. 

Superman walks away from him, and Match hears–a noise. It sounds pathetic and distressed and upset, and it's coming from . . . 

Him. He made it. 

He can't sound like that. He can't do that. He–he–

He can't stop it.

“Shhh,” Superman murmurs soothingly as he immediately blurs back to him; cups his face in his hands again. Everything immediately smells like eucalyptus and soft, fragrant flowers again, and the noise stops itself, it feels like, and the panic rising in Match's chest just–cuts out. Disappears. 

Superman smells so good. 

Smells safe. 

Match feels his shoulders slump; feels his body tilt forward into Superman’s space. It happens without him deciding to let it happen, and he can’t remember why he’s supposed to stop it from happening. He’s . . . supposed to. He thinks. 

He thinks he’s supposed to. 

“I'm not leaving you,” Superman lies like a promise, and keeps smelling so soothingly sweet. “I'm just taking you to the couches, remember? Then I'm going to go get you your things and let you den down. I won’t be long.” 

. . . “den” down? Match blinks, slowly, and tries to repress a frown. Superman said it like Superboy would know what he was talking about, but what does he mean by . . . 

Superman rubs the tips of his fingers in behind Match's ears in little circles, and Match loses his train of thought. He doesn't usually do that, but . . . but. 

But Superman just smells so good. 

Match doesn’t understand why he keeps thinking that. Or . . . most of the things he’s been thinking today, actually, and maybe even this past week. But especially the things he’s been thinking since Superman showed up and started treating him like–this. 

He feels so, so strange today.

[alienzil]

Have you ever been to earth?

On earth, we use the word “burrito” to describe a tortilla filled with things you eat. Pretty simple stuff, and I’m surprised you at least got that part right. My burrito was, in fact, filled with food. In this, you and I agree and are friends. But this is also where my lifelong hatred begins for you and anyone else whose brain has been repeatedly scrubbed with the same mixture of bleach and Pop Rocks as yours has. Because that should have killed you, but left you around long enough to do what you did to me today. Let me explain:

You’re an idiot.

Let me further explain:

Burritos are eaten from one end to the other. So that means when you assemble a burrito with motherfucking ZONES of ingredients going that direction, you create a disgusting experience for the burrito’s end user. When you make a burrito, you should put the ingredients in layerslengthwise. That way, every bite has AT LEAST A FUCKING CHANCE of getting at least two types of ingredients, and there is little chance of becoming almost hopelessly trapped in a goddamned cilantro cavern.

Have you ever eaten one of the things you make all fucking day? You should try one. They are pretty good WHEN YOU ARE NOT WILLING YOURSELF THROUGH THE FUCKING EMPIRE OF SOUR CREAM ONLY TO END UP IN LETTUCE COUNTRY.

When you eat a burrito, you don’t stand it up and bite down on it lengthwise like a fucking Rancor. Humans can’t usually dislocate their jaws, and I’m not a fucking pelican. But you must think that’s how it’s done, since that would be THE ONLY FUCKING WAY to take a bite of your crapstrosity and have it taste like a burrito.

And guess what else, player? You probably can’t guess anything, because I’m pretty sure you’re just a mop with a hat on it that fell over and spilled some shit into a tortilla, but just in case, here’s what:

Humans also don’t eat burritos like fucking corn on the cob. Like a fucking typewriter from one end to the other a little at a time and then DING next line. But today I wish I had tried that. Because at least THEN I would be able to eat some rice, then beans, then be all like HEY BEANS I’LL BE RIGHT BACK JUST GOING OVER HERE TO THE GUACAMOLE FOR A SECOND.

Nope.

My experience was more like HEY BEANS IT’S JUST GOING TO BE YOU AND I FOR A MINUTE UNTIL I CAN FUCKING EXCAVATE THE RICE FROM BENEATH YOU BUT BY THEN YOU WILL BE A FADING MEMORY OH HEY I WAS WRONG I’M IN THE FUCKING CHEESEOSPHERE NOW RICE MUST BE NEXT I HOPE IT’S NOT ANOTHER FUCKING SALSA POCKET.

You built this thing like a fucking pack of LifeSavers.

And don’t even fucking think I’m about to open this shit up and re-engineer your nonsense 90 degrees. I ALREADY PUT A HOLE IN IT WITH MY FUCKING MOUTH. YEAH. THAT’S HOW I DISCOVERED YOU FUCKING SUCK AT LOOKING AT THINGS. I AM NOT GOING TO DO FUCKING TORTILLA ORIGAMI TO GET THIS SHIT BACK TOGETHER, ONLY TO END UP WITH A BURRITO THAT’S BEEN SHOT IN THE GUT AND IS BLEEDING YOUR INEPTITUDE.

What’s that? I should ask you to mix it up first next time? IS THIS JAMBA JUICE? I DON’T WANT TO DRINK MY FUCKING BURRITO THROUGH A BENDY STRAW, AND I DON’T WANT A PILE OF BURRITO SOUP IN A FLOUR CAN.

I just want a burrito.

In conclusion:

You’re the worst thing that has ever happened to the universe, you owe everyone everywhere an apology for this burritobomination, and I hope your babies look like monkeys.

UPDATE FOR EVERYONE WHO SAID “JUST EAT IT WITH A FORK”:

A fucking fork?

I DIDN’T ORDER THE FUCKING COBBURRITO SALAD.

If anyone ever handed me a burrito with a fork, THEY WOULD BE WEARING A BRAND NEW BURRITO HAT FROM MY FALL COLLECTION TEN SECONDS LATER.

That’s like buying a car and having them hand you a fucking wrench with the keys. Like YEAH WE KNOW THIS MOTHERFUCKER’S GOING TO EXPLODE AND BE SPREAD ACROSS EIGHT LANES AS SOON AS YOU HIT THE GAS, BUT SHIT, WE GAVE YOU A WRENCH, SO BE COOL.

Jesus already gave me two burrito forks. One at the end of each arm. They’re called fucking HANDS.

A fork. My god. I haven’t cried since I was six, but I’m fucking sobbing now.

People eat burritos with forks?

God is sorry he made us.

(Source)

[alienzil]

Intruder

[alienzil]

WIP excerpt for VideoGeek; Kara gets to Earth on time and the Kents get a two-for-one special on free kids. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

“Ka-Lair,” Ma says again, low and soothing. She says some other words too. Kara doesn't understand them. 

She can't stop crying. 

She's not supposed to cry. Not in front of Kal. Kal has to see her smiling. Kal–Kal has to–

He has to. 

So she can't be crying right now. 

“Ka-Lair,” Ma repeats one more time. She reaches out. Puts a hand on the porch between them. 

Kara needs to stop crying. She's fine. She just needs to stop crying. She's fine because she has to be fine and she's not crying because Kal needs her to not be crying and she–and she–

And she's fine. 

She is. 

Ma says something else. Turns her hand upright in offering. 

Kara can't let go of Kal to take it. 

It's not safe to let go of Kal. 

He’s so little, and she knew he could fall. She knew it. How was she so stupid, to leave him alone and unwatched all the way across the porch? She knew better! She’d thought about it, and he’s so little! 

And she’d still turned away and taken her eyes off him, because she’d been so weak and pathetic as to need to be upset. 

Kal needs her not to be upset. Kal needs her to take care of him. 

Kal needs her, and she let him fall. 

Kara sobs harder, and Ma leans in and wraps her arms around her. She wants to shove away, but can’t do that to her. Can’t be ungrateful like that, when Ma and Pa have given them so much. 

But she doesn’t deserve it. She let Kal fall, and she’s being a problem and an inconvenience to Ma, and she’s being a problem. She can’t do that. This. Any of this. 

She needs to not be a problem. She needs to help out and not cause trouble and not inconvenience them and take care of Kal and never, ever take her eyes off him and–and–

And she needs to stop crying like this! 

Why can’t she just–just stop? 

Ma makes strange and quiet little hissing noises and hugs her tighter; strokes a hand back through her hair. The last person who did that was her mother, and now her mother isn’t the last person who did that. And her mother will never do it again. Will never . . . never . . . 

Why can’t she stop crying? 

Kal chimes in distress again, still trying to squirm out of her arms, and Kara unthinkingly tightens her grip to keep him there. He yelps in pain, and she jerks–lets him go quick, and he nearly tumbles out of her lap. Ma catches him against her chest, and Kara let him fall again, she let him fall she let him fall she let him fall–! 

“Ka-Lair,” Ma says, and makes more of those quiet little hissing noises as she keeps stroking through her hair, and now down Kal’s back too even as Kara yanks him back into her lap in a panic. Kal fusses, and then starts crying too, and it’s all her fault, Kara did this, she’s awful at this, she’s supposed to be taking care of him and keeping him happy and safe and instead she let him fall, twice, and made him cry! 

Ma keeps talking. Kara doesn’t understand any of the words, and even though she’s clearly trying to help, the flat, alien tones of her voice sound all wrong. There’s nothing soothing about those tones, and Kara doesn’t understand the words. 

She wants to go home. 

She wants home to still be there, even if she couldn’t go back to it. 

Everything’s gone. Everyone is gone. It’s just her and Kal and a pair of crystals in a couple of wrecked ships. 

That's all it'll ever be again. 

Krypton is dead. Their family is dead. They're all that's left, and there won't ever be another Kryptonian born. Won't ever be another Kryptonian at all. 

She'll never see her mother again.

[alienzil]

Tim knew his soulmate's eye color was blue. He'd known since he'd been very small. It was the only color he'd be able to see until he met his soulmate.

At least, he thought that was how it would work until he woke up from a nap and couldn't see blue any more. According to the color swatch photo he found online, he was now seeing green.

[alienzil]

Avatar AU where Aang stays in the iceberg and Katara is mistakenly believed to be the Avatar after she “earthbends” a rock by moving the ice inside it.

Instead of telling the truth and letting everyone down, she and Sokka pull on an elaborate charade and go on a journey to convince the world that the Avatar is back.

[alienzil]

Soul Song AU

An AU where people hear a song that represents their soulmate and what they are feeling at the moment. Danny never had one for the longest time and once he heard his soulmate's song he brushed it off as ghost shenanigans. Thinking it be an affect of one of Desiree granting someone's wish, no one in town can swear anymore, or a new ghost power, he gets a new one every week at this point. Either way he is so overwhelmed with the mess that is his life, especially with him preparing for his coronation, that he brushes it off.

For Conner he has had a song in his head for as long as he can remember. It was his sole light when he was in CAMUS lab or rejected by Superman. He never asked anyone about it because he didn't want to risk it being taken away or be seen as deficient when compared to his template. So he doesn't know that he has a soulmate. No one thought of explaining soulmates to him due to it being common knowledge, him being a clone, and thinking he wouldn't have a soulmate due to that fact.

So imagine everyone's surprise that when Superboy gets hit by a soulmate spell and something actually happens. Whether it be his soul song being broadcast aloud or Danny being summoned to him, in either human or ghost form.

[alienzil]

Psst! Maybe doodle a Bruce and young Dick spotted by paparazzi!

Heartwarming! Bruce Wayne spotted walking with young ward Dick Grayson!

[alienzil]

Sleeping Beauty AU where the princess was born on a Leap Day, so when the evil fairy curses her to prick her finger “on her 16th birthday”, her family realizes that’s not the same thing as her 16th year of life and she’ll actually be in her 60′s when it happens.