#I literally got so excited when I saw his art that I started flailing my hands and accidentally knocked one of my acrylic nails off

[chocmoon-latte]

I'm so normal about him right now guys

[tinandabin]

Hiii :D

May I request a yandere douma x reader oneshot

Reader is tanjiros younger sister who is also a demon slayer just like him

Now let's think that when daki and gyutaro fight was over and everyone was injured douma appears and take an instant liking to tanjiros sister?maybe he will straight up kiss her and then kidnap her in front of everyone

Have a nice day/night ^^

I enjoyed writing this!! I hope you will like this. 💖💖

Join my discord!!

_____

"(Name)? Wake up..." Tanjiro lightly shook you as Nezuko used her blood demon art to heal you.

"Onii-san...is the fight over?" Blinking your eyes open as you struggled to get up because dude, fighting a uppermoon literally sucked the soul out of you.

Happily, Tanjiro answered you as he nodded, "Yeah! It's over. Nezuko has healed the others. Everyone is fine."

Looking around you saw how much destruction had been caused, plus a lot of blood too. Uzui-san was talking with his wives while Inosuke was resting and Zenitsu was just asleep.

Getting up with the help of Tanjiro, you took support against one of the broken walls as you all waited for the Kakushi to arrive.

I haven't read the manga so idk what happens after they successfully kill upper moon six

"What a mess you all have created..." A cheery voice spoke up as he looked around at where the upper moon six used to hide. Fake fully sighing in disappointment he mumbled out, "He will be very disappointed!"

All the people who are awake currently froze. This...ominous aura, even more powerful, no way too powerful than the upper-rank demons they just killed.

Another upper rank.

"I came here to check up on Gyutaro and Daki. What a shame they have died," Sadly, mumbling that out he started looking at the demon slayers who killed them.

"A hashira!" Cheerfully, he waved at Uzui who was still in shock. They surely will die now.

"Ah ah, aren't you the boy who he told us to kill?" Smiling, Douma went towards Tanjiro as Uzui screamed at Tanjiro to run away.

Taking his chin in his grip, he examined his face before tching and looking at Nezuko.

"Aww, aren't you the pitiful demon who escaped his control?" Chuckling at Nezuko, Douma opened his fans and hid his smile behind his fan as Nezuko ferociously growled at him.

Humming, Douma looked around a bit more before his gaze landed on you.

"What a pretty little thing are you.." In a trance, Douma immediately appeared before you, picking you up by the armpits as he stared into your eyes.

"LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS!!" Tanjiro screamed at the upper moon demon who only smiled at Tanjiro.

Your heart speed began to pick up. I mean, this is goddam upper moon TWO. You all had difficulty killing upper moon six how in the holy hell will you manage to kill this shit????

Flailing in his hold, you tried to punch him in the face which he dodged as he hugged you close to him. "You are so soft!! I could just eat you up right now!!" He said as he nuzzled his cold-ass nose in your cheek.

Gasping, he very excitedly whispered, "You are also warm!!"

Uzui got up and got ready to fight again, and so did his wives. Even though they all were scared, they are ready. Well not really.

"ONII-SAN!!" Screaming, you yelled for Tanjiro as Douma started peppering your face in kisses.

Sighing happily, Douma cheerily told, "You are so cute!!! You know what? I will let you all live if you let me take this pretty human with me!!"

He was gonna let them answer but he was too excited so he replied in their stead.

"Well, no matter whether you want me to or not! I will take her with me, anyway!" Smiling to himself, Douma again tightly hugged you to him as all of the others got ready to fight.

"NEZUKO!! ONII-SAN!!" Crying, you extended your hand towards them as you tried kicking Douma in the balls.

Stopping your leg, Douma smirked at you as he mischievously looked at you and said, "Naughty!! Don't get so excited!"

And in less than a flash, you were gone and so was the demon.

______

"Ah, how do we stop humans from crying..." Douma confusedly mumbled as he looked through a book while you were settled on his bed.

"There, there..?"

You cried harder.

"Ah, wrong words okay.."

______

"Stop flailing, snowflake," Douma mumbled in your neck as his hold around your waist tightened.

"No, you shitter." Cursing at him, you started flailing in his hold harder.

"Bad!" Annoyed, Douma bonked you in the head. Someone as soft and cute as you should not say such bad words!

It's been a few months since he had forcefully claimed you as his. At first, you were terrified. But after some time you got to know that he won't kill you. At least not for some time. Have you gained his trust? No. He's too smart. But it seems as to he will be on a mission today night. Is it a good idea to escape a upper moon? No. Do you care? No.

_______

Sighing mournfully, Douma started cleaning your broken legs. Not without licking some of the blood off. Ew.

"My snowflake, you shouldn't try such a...dangerous act again." Pecking you on the lips, Douma finished bandaging your legs and he picked you up bridal style settling you on his bed as he started to cuddle you.

"Who knows what will happen next time you do this," Douma told as he looked into your eyes which glared at him in slight fear and anger.

_____

"You look so pretty when you smile!" ~ Douma.

MASTERLIST

[silver-wield]

CA on twitter are wild, they attack new fans because according to them, they don’t get the game… they have to start accepting that FFVIIR is not a Bioware game and you can’t choose a love interest, the game is linear and there’s no choice the player make that affects the plot, of course you can ignore Tifa all you want but Cloud still gifts her the flower, calls her beautiful, cares about her and they can't skip that... [1]

I don't get the obsession they have with being canon, its fine shipping CA *i ship a lot of thing that aren’t canon*, what i dont like is how they lie to new fans about it and make fun of them when they don’t see the ‘love at first sight’ on chapter 8, they create this fantasy and get mad when others don’t see it. [2]

My roommate started the game after some crazy CA friend of hers told her the story *their version*, so she was playing with the idea that Aerith was the LI and was really excited about the dynamic between them *it was a lieeee*, and got confused when Tifa was introduced, she didn’t know Tifa existed… oh but she wasn’t disappointed, she fell in love with her at first sight *oh the irony* [3]

Her best comments while playing were ‘yes Cloud Tifa is beautiful’ ‘Tifa talk to me FOREVER please’ ‘why are dementors here?’ ‘he doesn’t care about Aerith!’ ‘Oh no… Aerith is a little annoying’ ‘Aerith im not ditching you please walk faster!’ ‘she’s in love with someone else?!’ ‘Cloud mind is TIFATIFATIFA’ ‘Cloud wants to f*ck Tifa’ ‘omg Tifa just kiss him please!’ ‘HE IS SO THIRSTY’ ‘Barret is the best third wheel!’ ‘YES HUG, NOW KISS’ ‘Why nobody told me about Zack?’ it was amusing af [4]

Now she’s a Cloti fan, lost a friend *they stopped talking to her* and got on a fight with some crazy CA on twitter her exfriend wanted to use so my roommate could get ‘the real plot’… her response was to share some cloti smut fic and art, they didn’t find it funny, her exfriend was like ‘you are a lost cause’ and blocked her. now we share headcanons and theories and we are going to play the next game together (so i guess i have a new friend yay me lol). [5]

That's one way to describe them, and that’s a whole lotta irony them accusing people of not understanding the game when they literally misunderstand or deliberately misinterpret all of the themes and plot points because the only thing they care about is shipping.

I think they just wanna be right. I mean, they don't seem to care about what the characters want unless it aligns with their own beliefs, so being right seems to be the whole basis of all their arguments. Which just proves how arrogant they are.

Love at first sight? In chapter 8 when they go on about it them being reunited after chapter 2? Well, then, this is actually the first moment Cloud saw her

Flailing around with people staring at her. His reaction is this

Wow, check that lightning bolt of love 🤣

And then in chapter 8 he looks at her like this

Kinda disgusted if I'm being blunt about it. Cloud doesn't like people in his personal space and Aerith does that all the time, which is pretty rude tbf.

Not one bit surprised to hear your friend didn't know Tifa existed since to them she's just an npc....that's playable for 15 chapters 🤣

It's always interesting getting new player povs, especially for the older set to see it's not just them having got used to defending canon. New players are seeing through the bullshit and lies those dumdums spew and it's making the fandom a lot more positive. It's really just those toxic dumdums still being really loud and obnoxious, but I'm betting the devs have more shade prepared for part 2 and beyond until they learn to stfu and accept canon or just stfu and go fanon in a corner where we don't have to listen to them anymore lol

[daemongal]

“let me know in another ask which of the guys is your fav” - BABS YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK ANY FURTHER. Dante is my guilty pleasure and I apologize for raising my voice. Sorry to hear that your work is giving you trouble, please take care 🙏🏼😙

Anon, I have one thing to say to you: you should know well enough that uncontrolled Dante thirst is not only welcomed on my blog but also highly encouraged! You weren’t rude at all, I love how excitable you were and I’m lowkey super glad you picked Dante xD I managed to throw this together way past my bedtime and during one of my wonderful friend’s @cheesysquidarts art streams go check out their blog by the way, their art is amazing!

I hope this is satisfactory to qualm the Dante thirst urges and also the purring demon urges :D so this starts pretty angsty but ends fluffy. I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for the ask and sharing in your thirst! Cut for length!

*********

Working in the Devil May Cry had enlightened you to many new experiences, for example, seeing a sword literally cut through time and space to create a shortcut to the bathroom and, within only a few seconds, seeing the same sword be thrust through the stomach of your employer. 

Coincidentally, this was also the day you learned that your employer was actually a half demon and that a stab through the stomach to him was akin to a splinter to anyone else. Although it came as a shock to you, you were never afraid of Dante. 

You’d been lucky enough to witness him in action, to see his overzealous way of fighting and his reckless showboatery and sometimes, you were even lucky enough to see the other half of him. His demon form was nothing short of terrifying. Hulking, blazing, with a mouthful of teeth as long and sharp as knives and eyes that seemed to pierce straight through you; but he never once made you feel afraid.

Well, never until now.

You were minding your own business, tidying up the paperwork in the shop, getting ready to head home for the day. Checking the clock: 11:30pm, another late one you thought. You’d been dragging your heels, hoping that he’d return from his job to see you off, but it seems like that won’t be the case today. Tomorrow was your day off, and the thought of not seeing the hunter for two whole days made your shoulders, and heart heavy. 

You sighed, grabbing your bag and heading out, switching off the light and locking up with your spare key behind you. Your flat was only a few blocks away, but you’d always been discouraged from walking home late by yourself. 

You headed down the quiet alleyway, taking in a deep breath of the cold night air. The city air wasn’t the cleanest smelling, but it always seemed fresher at night. 

Your nose scrunched when you caught a hint of something… different. You stopped in your tracks as a metallic smell caught your attention, carried on the breeze as a brisk blast of wind hit your face. You swallowed, body tensing as your heart began to race, a guttural growl puncturing the silence as you slowly took a step back.You didn’t need to see the demon’s form to know what you’d stumbled across. 

Run! 

You twisted your body, sprinting as fast as your legs could take you back towards the shop, an inhuman scream piercing your eardrums as you gasped for air, pushing the pavement with each quick stride as your eyes set on the neon sign closing in on your vision.

You didn’t look back, you didn’t want to know how close whatever was chasing you was. You fumbled in your pocket, retrieving the shop key as you frantically searched for the keyhole the second your foot hit the steps. Your hands shook, breaths coming quick and light as the sound of your beating heart filled your ears.

You cursed, whether at yourself or the demon you weren’t sure, where’s the fucking keyhole? You stumbled, time slowing almost to a stop as the key fell from your hand to the dark floor. Your mind turned to pure panic, thoughts suddenly singling in on one particular face; of how you never got a chance to say goodbye, of how he’ll react returning from his job to find your mangled corpse on his doorstep.

You dropped to your knees in defeat, hearing the demons footsteps getting closer, crouching down to tuck yourself in to your body, for what little security it would give you, quietly whispering his name as you tense for impact.

Your eyes go wide as you hear screaming, a noise not coming from your own chest but from behind you. It took you a moment to realise that the cries were coming from the demon. You raised your head to glance back, jaw dropping as you instantly recognised the large set of red wings that now covered your field of view. 

The demon had been pierced with a sword and was being dangled in mid air. Through wet eyes you could make out its arms as it flailed, frantically trying to get its claws into, who you could only assume was Dante, triggered into his largest form. His spare clawed hand raised, gripping the demons skull before letting out a rib shaking roar and crushing it, turning it to dust instantly. 

You swallowed, both in relief at having your lifespan suddenly extended and also at seeing the very man who made the majority of your final thoughts to be. You turned your body to face him, legs still too stiff to raise yourself. You opened your mouth to call for him, before snapping your jaw shut as he turned to face you.

The look in his eyes was one you’d seen before, the very look he gave demons before he tore them in two; a predatory glance in its purest form. You instinctively pushed yourself back closer to the door, hand absentmindedly finding the dropped key and pulling it close. 

He turned his body, chest heaving as his mouth lay agape, hot breaths visible in the chilled night air. His sword vanished as he summoned it back, slowly taking a step towards you.

You managed to call out his name, although barely a whisper as he stood in front of you, his imposing body blocking out any light from the nearby streetlights. He moved quickly, as you shut your eyes and braced yourself for impact, fully expecting to be torn, just like the demons.

All of a sudden, you felt a weight against your legs, pressing into your chest; a weight, but not a pain. You opened your eyes carefully, your mind going blank at the sight you saw. He was lying, lying against the steps, wings folded back as his head rested against your lap. His claws lay carefully at your side, as if afraid to touch you, the heat of his breath noticeable even through your clothing.

You were stunned, stunned and clueless to what was going on. His head moved as if nudging you or… was he… nuzzling you? Your heartbeat slowed, shoulders relaxing as your body slowly began to accept that you were no longer in danger. Your legs flopped under his weight, resting against the cool stone as he pushed himself further into you, taking care not to pierce you with his horns.

You tentatively reached your hand towards his face, pressing your hand against the base of one of his larger horns, and began to stroke, as if you were stroking his hair. Adrenaline was still coursing through your veins, your mind unfocused yet somehow craving the feel of the hard surface.

You passed your hand over the hot looking crown between his horns, surprised at how cool it was to the touch. You pulled your hand back as a sudden deep noise reverberated through his chest; must have hit a nerve. His head twitched seconds later, moving to connect your hand back to him, as you started slowly stroking again.

The noise returned, but this time, you smiled. You recognised his behaviour, as much as you’d try to deny it, but your know how your cat does the same thing. Following your hand when you stopped petting too early for his liking, how he would lean into your touch when you hit the right spot and, how he would purr when he was content.

As hard as it was to believe, Dante was currently resting on your lap, fully triggered after mercilessly killing a demon, purring as you stroked his scales. 

Suddenly, the deep rumbling sound became one of comfort as you closed your eyes, letting it overtake your senses. You could feel the vibrations against your legs, you let its sound fill your ears, drowning out the wailing of sirens and bangs of backfiring engines, and enjoyed the feel of his fur like scales against the palm of your hand.

You noticed a sudden shift of weight and a change in texture against your fingers as you opened your eyes, seeing Dante in his human form still with his head against you, as you carefully ran your fingers through his locks. 

The purring sound continued, but much less intense, more akin to a snore but in his chest rather than his throat. You heard muffled speech against your legs before you moved your hand, smiling as he turned to face you.

“No more walking home alone at night, capiche? Thought I'd…. thought I’d lost you for a moment there. Thought I didn’t fly fast enough.” his arms moved from your sides to wrap tightly around your waist as you let out a slight gasp, heat rushing to your face.

“I’m… still here… thanks to you; again.” You leaned your head back against the door, breathing a sigh of relief as your body finally settled, the moment of respite allowing the tears you’d been holding back to run free down your cheeks. Dante pressed his face back into you, turning away from your gaze.

“It’s cold. We should probably head ins-”

“Just…. Just a little longer…. Please,” you interrupted, feeling his expression shift to a smirk against you.

“You got it. I tend to run pretty warm anyway, we should be good for a bit. But erm… can we not, mention this around Verge? Can’t be throwin’ more fuel into the fire, ya know.” You chuckled, returning your hand to his hair as you threaded the soft locks between your fingers.

“You know he’ll just find out anyway somehow. It’s kinda creepy how he always does that.”

“Yeah well, might as well delay the inevitable for a little at least.” 

Maybe Dante made you feel afraid once, but you know you’d never be afraid of him again after this.

****

Pls let me... pet the demon...

[bigskydreaming]

Comic book Zatanna is VERY different from YJ Zatanna. To such a degree that rather than look at YJ Zatanna as an adaptation of her, I pretty much just think of them as entirely different characters. Like YJ Zatanna is named after her older cousin or something, who’s too busy dealing with mystical threats to ever show up onscreen. Its pretty significant what a difference changing a character’s age and what generation they’re a part of can make.

(Its also why I don’t ship Dick/Zatanna in YJ. My go-to Zatanna will always be the comics one, who’s like....dated his DAD. Its like how a couple of adaptations have tried to pair Bruce/Babs as a nod to like waaaaaaaaaaaaaay early versions of Batgirl, when like...no, Babs has dated Dick, his son, in way too many comics and cartoons what are you even doing, I DISREGARD YOU, FALSE CANON. Anyway.)

So, in the comics, Zatanna is the same age as Bruce, or near enough. And she and Bruce have a long history together, (including at times a romantic one) because in some continuities, before he was Batman, when he was still traveling the world and learning from every teacher he could, he frequently visited circuses and carnivals and the like. They were where he learned escape artist tricks, picked up things from magicians’ acts like Zatanna’s (such as sleight of hand and misdirection, etc), and acrobatics. Its literally been given as a reason he was at Haly’s Circus the night Dick’s parents died - he was scoping out their act to see if there were any tricks he could learn from or incorporate into his own repertoire.

What I’m getting at is Bruce knew Zatanna even before he was Batman for the exact same reason he met Dick. He inserted himself into the circles both of them traveled in as members of performer families with a generations long history with circuses and Vegas and carnivals and the like.

Which means....take Bruce out of the equation, and there’s still every chance that Dick and Zatanna’s paths could have crossed while they were both still performers. And that their families could have known each other.

So! AU where Zatanna was in Gotham visiting friends at Haly’s the night the Graysons died. And rather than watch Dick get shoved into an uncaring system when they took him away from the circus and refused to let him stay with them, the Mistress of Magic spirited Dick away and took custody of him herself. 

Leading to Dick being raised by Zatanna instead of Bruce, continuing to work as a performer alongside her but now her magician’s assistant instead of an acrobat - though he still kept up with his acrobatics thanks to Zee’s acrobat friends letting him train on their trapeze whenever he had the itch to fly again. Dick grows up learning escape artist tricks and all the misdirection and sleight of hand Bruce learned from magicians, but straight from the source this time rather than via Bruce.

And eventually, Dick - child prodigy that he is - discovers that Zatanna’s act is the equivalent of hiding in plain sight, the perfect misdirection to cover up that she is a real magician, a homo sapiens magi, born naturally gifted in the mystic arts and one of the most powerful sorceresses in the world. Dick might not ever have her natural aptitude for HER type of magic, but there are many kinds of magic in the world, and thanks to her work (both professional and as a reserve member of the Justice League and occasional superheroine herself). Zatanna knows all the best and most talented magicians and sorcerers in the world. And many of those, Dick CAN learn from.

All of which leads to him eventually sneaking out as a vigilante on his own, combining his acrobatics with things like knife throwing and flashy misdirection that disguises his actual conjurings and spellwork when in the midst of battle. His specialties are illusion magics, spells of disguise and manipulation of shadows, vanishing into smoke and conjuring temporary doubles out of mirrors, etc. Just enough of what he does isn’t real that villains never see it coming when he conjures a real fireball right after they’d identified enough of the previous ones as harmless illusions and thought it was safe to stop dodging. Instead of it being just about raw power, he builds upon his ability to craft and sell an act. 

Eventually he forms the Teen Titans with other sidekicks like Wonder Girl, Speedy, Kid Flash and Aqualad...as well as Barbara Gordon aka Batgirl, protégé of the Batman. Even his best friends couldn’t say how much he’s actually capable of - though with them, its not because he doesn’t trust them though, merely because he’s a troll. He always dismisses any talk of him being a sorcerer or calling what he does magic. Instead he just grins and winks and says he knows a few tricks, is all. What he considers ‘a few’ or how far he stretches the definition of ‘a trick’, well, that’s anyone’s guess.  His entire hero career and reputation spins out of the fact that he COULD be one of the more powerful sorcerers to walk the earth....or he could simply be a great actor who makes the most out of a relative handful of lesser spells within his capabilities. Even his own teachers can’t say for sure. Every time someone thinks they’ve got his range figured out, he mischievously pulls out a new spell his previous shows of power have never hinted he’d be capable of, just to keep people guessing. 

And maybe Zatanna and Dick are back performing in Gotham one winter, and Dick’s off visiting Batgirl while they’re in town, and Zatanna takes a stroll through town and passes through Crime Alley. No particular reason, its just an expedient route and she hardly is someone to take its reputation as a reason she of all people should be concerned.

Which is when a homeless street kid named Jason Todd tries to pick her pocket. Naturally, it doesn’t exactly work out for him, given who she is, but Zatanna Zatara is one to appreciate the irony of someone trying to pick HER pocket...as well as impressed at how close he comes to actually managing it. She takes him to a diner to feed him, coaxes enough of his story from him to figure out he has no one to look out for him and will never trust Gotham’s foster system (not that she’d blame him, given what she saw of it when she first took custody of Dick and had doubts about whether she was doing the right thing for him)...and figuring since it worked out well for her the first time she went down this road, offers Jason a fresh start elsewhere with her and Dick.

It isn’t long before Jason’s intellect and skilled hands prove equally effective at sleight of hand and magician’s tricks, as well as an eager student for every bit of actual magic his new big brother shares, along with what he learns from the teachers Zee and Dick both introduce him to. Over time, he gravitates towards different tutors specialties than Dick though. Illusions and mindgames, smoke and mirrors...that fits Dick’s natural showmanship and performer’s nature, but its not Jason’s style. Oh, he can bluff the hell out of anyone, never play poker with him, and his natural bravado easily translates into working a crowd and playing a stage alongside Zee and Dick when working. Its just not his preference is all. 

No, he goes more for practical magic, straightforward approaches to achieving his intended results. Cut out the bullshit. Spells of primal force or elemental magicks, charms and runes of strength, healing and protection to augment his capabilities when he wades into a fight fists first and just starts brawling. He’s not afraid to summon a demon or two and make a bargain to achieve his ends - he’s even got the names of a couple inked into his skin as tattoos, a summoning shortcut that lets him call on his personal faves in a moment of desperation. Even demons have trouble circumventing a summoning or breaking free of its parameters when those things are etched permanently onto his body. 

Dick does tend to have a few elemental spirits always nearby and easily summoned without much notice or prep time, but Dick being Dick, in his case its just because he made friends with them. There’s a couple of wind sprites always hanging around on the off-chance he gets into a fight and might need their help. They find such instances to be extremely fun and exciting, and also they’ve adopted the fun little bird human who flies as a kindred spirit.

In contrast, Jason comes home one day and Zatanna catches him trying to change the coverings on a new tattoo without her noticing. She's not mad because he's fifteen and not supposed to be getting tattoos. She's not exactly thrilled about that either, but no, of greater concern to her is the fact that the tattoo is a name written in a long dead alphabet. A name she recognizes as that of a primordial demon she was extremely clear about being one of those forces beyond her teenage son's ken, and which he most certainly was not supposed to be messing around with.

Jason's expression tightens mulishly and Zatanna longs for the days when that was just purple prose she read in books sometimes while wondering vaguely how that even worked and what that actually looked like.

"Dick said I had to," her younger son says. He folds his arms across his chest defiantly. Zatanna closes her eyes and counts to five.

"I did not!" her older son yells right on schedule. The air shimmers like heat waves rising off pavement on a hot summer day and Dick drops the cloaking spell he's been using to eavesdrop. She's not sure why he even bothered with the thing; they both knew he was there the whole time. Not because his spell hadn't been text book perfect and beyond even her ability to pierce mystically, but because Dick tended to forget all the magic in the world can't keep predictable behavior from being predicted.

"You literally said Jason, you gotta do the thing," Jason insists, doubling down. Dick's arms flail like an anthropomorphic windmill tripping on shrooms.

"No, I literally said Jason, don't do the thing," Dick shrieks, cartoonishly outraged. Zatanna fights back a small smile despite the situation. She's seen her eldest smoothly engage a minor deity in a verbal chess match as the fate of his fellow Teen Titans hung in the balance, all without once breaking a sweat. One blatant lie delivered straight to his face by his younger brother though, and he went zero to sixty in two point five seconds, skipping straight past the realization he was being played. Zee still had every intention of grounding her youngest for the next decade for being so dumb as to ink himself with a mystical tether to a demon that once ate an entire civilization - yes, ate - but that didn't mean she couldn't also be impressed at Jason's attempt at finessing himself out of this situation. He'd jumped straight to the only thing that had even had a prayer of distracting Zee from his teenage idiocy - Dick at Defcon Five. Now if only she could get him to apply that same level of forethought to things like oh, the possible longterm consequences of giving a supernatural Being of Mass Destruction a direct dial up connection to him....

Dick turns desperate eyes on her. "Seriously Mom, I swear. I said the actual words 'Jason NO.'"

"See?" Jason flings his arm at his brother in triumphant vindication. "Have you met me? Everyone knows that's code for 'Jason YES.'"

"Oh my god, I will curse you to rot the pages of every first edition you touch," Dick hisses dramatically. Jason pales briefly, but rallies.

"And really, how is this any different from when you slept with Batgirl and I said that was a really bad idea and its totally gonna end up biting you in the ass, and then you said that I shouldn't have told you to do it then?"

"That's completely different," Dick howls, reverting back to Windmill, Drunk In A Windstorm. "You said 'Don't be mad, but that new scrying spell I was trying accidentally locked on to Batgirl instead of Batman and I saw her walking home from school out of costume just for a second before I shut off the spell but spoiler alert, she doesn't wear a wig while in costume, she really is a redhead even with her cowl off, which means now you gotta sleep with her, like, we all know its gonna happen anyway now. PS its Barbara Gordon, that's the punchline, you're already obsessed with her, oh crap now you're gonna be insufferable huh.' Which by the way, I so am not. Jerk."

"Yes," Jason says slowly and with exaggerated patience. Zatanna's migraine builds and builds. "And then I said, 'Dick, no, stop, I was making a joke, you don't actually have to...' and you said 'No, but I gotta'. Your shirt was practically already off by the time I finished saying 'redhead.'"

"Well, duh! Of course it was! Have you met me?" Dick volleys back in what Zee really hopes is her eldest making a deliberate callback to her youngest's earlier crack, and not some bizarre teenage superstition that has him actually thinking nope nope those thoughts are in the Bad Place, Zatanna, its absolutely believable that Dick is actually still twelve and the boys are just using embellishing language to feel grown up. C'mon, if you try hard enough you can milk a good thirty more seconds of denial about your son's sex life, you're literally magic, you can do this.

The ludicrousness of it all is so effortlessly identical to his brother's idiocy just moments prior, Zatanna has a brief, uncharitable thought that the Graysons had a second child they gave up for adoption and nobody ever told either of the boys. She opens her mouth to put a stop to the nonsense, but what comes out:

"You slept with Bruce's protégé?"

Dick pauses mid-rant and fidgets uneasily. His eyes dart around the room as if expecting the Batman to appear, summoned by the power of his name. "Umm. Only a couple times?" he says slash asks, warily.

"On several different occasions," Jason adds gleefully. Zatanna rubs her temples and rounds on him before Dick can return fire.

"And you tried to scry Batman?"

"Umm," Jason stutters. Stops. Aims an accusing finger at his brother again. "Dick dared me to!"

"That's it! Curse coming right up," Dick snaps, fingers crooking into arcane gestures.

"Enough! Both of you!" Zatanna feels slightly guilty when both boys fall silent and hunch over, metaphorical tails between their legs. Even when they were being obnoxious, it was still weirdly charming in a way - eww, who even was she right now? Maternity was a mistake. Still, she couldn't find it in herself to bring down the full force of her ire when all they were doing really was being....ridiculous boys being ridiculous brothers. She sighs and contemplates telling them just to go to bed, they'd discuss it in the morning after she'd had time to cool off and think about it....decides god no, that risks all of this happening all over again. Splits the difference and calls it a night.

"Jason, you're grounded for a month for whatever you did to even get someone to give you a tattoo while under eighteen without parental approval. And you're grounded from any spells outside of lesson plans and homework assigned by one of your tutors until you can tell me in detail why I'm concerned your choice of tattoo was an absolutely terrible idea, and you can present me with no less than three different wards or counterspells that prepare for the possibility of that absolutely terrible idea becoming an absolutely terrible catastrophe. Not a word," she finishes sharply with a pointed finger, when he starts to protest. He sulkily subsides again.

"Dick, one word answers only, no explanations, excuses or qualifiers. You made sure Barbara knew exactly who you were and that you knew exactly who she was before you both....made it extremely awkward for me to look Bruce in the eye at the next Justice League meeting?"

"Yes," Dick says wincing.

"You used protection....each time on each different occasion?"

"Yes," her eldest says, examining the floor as if weighing the likelihood of it opening up and swallowing him whole.

"You're not being every gross stereotype of teenage boys as normalized by Hollywood, using or objectifying girls in the name of toxic masculinity - you actually have feelings for this girl?"

"Yes," he says firmly, meeting her eyes again. Zatanna nods, letting that linger as she absorbs both his sincerity and the passage of time. Where did the last decade and that little eight year old with the baby fat and chipmunk cheeks go? But then, this is good too, she decides, and she nods, satisfied. Course, a little embarrassment is good for the soul, she figures.

"You understand that the world is full of other smart, beautiful redheads you could have chosen to pursue with far less complications?"

"Be right back, have to go die now," Dick announces loudly, and Zatanna chuckles and takes pity on him. Jason's paler Irish skin goes red at the drop of a hat, but it takes a much higher level of mortal humiliation for Dick's darker skin to betray any kind of blush.

"Nothing to get all red in the face about, sweetheart," she says because look, her kids had to get it from somewhere. Jason cackles, doubling over with mirth and Zatanna makes her exit while her youngest is too busy being amused at his brother's expense to remember he's ticked about being grounded.

She lingers on the other side of the wall, drinking in the sound of Jason's laughter and Dick's sulking, long enough that she's still there to overhear when Dick silences his brother's entertainment:

"Saved your ass, you manipulative little shit. Don't think I didn't know what you were doing there. You owe me for playing along."

"Yeah, yeah, all hail Benevolent Big Brother Dick," Jason grumbles, but there's gratitude beneath the grumbling. Zatanna's eyes narrow as she reflects on how much lighter a sentence Jason ended up with, compared to what her first instincts had intended. Well, crap. Dick hadn't been the one oblivious to all the layers of that little episode at all, had he? That was annoyingly humbling. Still, Zatanna shakes her head at herself and goes to bed with a smile. She respects the art of the con too much to be upset her children learned more from her teachings than she'd realized.

Well played, boys.

The brothers' respective preferences in summonings aren't the only places they differ. Where Dick has a half a dozen spells of invisibility or intangibility on stand by in case he needs to sneak into a heavily fortified place, Jason stays stocked up with an equivalent number of spells capable of just blowing the front door off its hinges.Of course, Tim Drake being Tim Drake, his inclusion into their little family happens exactly as you’d expect.

He literally follows them home one day.

His neglectful absentee parents are archaeologists, after all. Spending more of their time away at dig sites than at home with him. When they are home though, they make a show of caring, take him out to the circus and to shows, parading him in public so everyone can see what a nice family they all are and how much they dote on their only child. So just like in canon, Tim’s there at the circus too, the night the Graysons are murdered. And in the years to follow, he’s at a number of the Zataras’ magic shows, and easily puts together that Dick and Jason are the two masked mystical teen superheroes that spend as much time doing flips and punching and kicking villains as they do weaving actual spells. 

And his parents, being the kind of archaeologists who grew up as rich bored white Gotham elites who picked archaeology as their field of study because its not like they actually needed to work and they’d watched Indiana Jones so often, they were like, yes, excellent, I will model my life adventures and career path after this movie and its depiction of archaeology....

Like, so clearly, they’re the dumbass kind of archaeologists who have no actual respect for the artifacts they dig up and just like how they look in their home or behind glass museum cases with plaques about who donated them.

Tim however, is not dumb, way better than his parents, and has a lot of free time and a hobby of researching EVERYTHING. So eventually he discovers the real origins of a lot of artifacts his parents have around the house, and determines that a) they really shouldn’t be here, and b) some of these have spiritual and even mystical reputations and power and are possibly very dangerous in the wrong hands or even just from being removed from their resting places or lands/cultures of origin, so they REALLY shouldn’t be here.

So the next time the Zataras’ magic show comes to Gotham, he (carefully) stuffs his backpack full of as many as he can carry, and sneaks out to go watch the show. And then he follows them back to where they’re staying, introduces himself and says he knows who they are and could they please help him return all these artifacts to where they belong and also hurry because some of them might blow up the world if they’re gone too much longer and that’s not WHY he wants to return them, like they should just because its the right thing to do, but he thought he should mention it because it seems like its an important factor. He’d do it himself, but he’s not allowed to go on a plane by himself, but he did write apology notes to go with each artifact for taking them without asking, and also could he have their autographs?

Dick blinks cartoonishly large eyes, sweeps the ten year old off his feet into a giant hug and announces, “We’re keeping him.”

Zatanna tries to do this in an orderly fashion, of course. “Tim, where are your parents? Do they know you’re here?”

Dick sniffs. “Irrelevant. We’re keeping him. Look how adorable he is, is there really anyone who could possibly appreciate his adorableness more than us? No. Ergo. We’re keeping him.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “He’s not a pet, asshole. And adorableness isn’t a word, stop making up words, I will punch you I swear. But also yeah, we’re keeping him.”

Tim’s heart is having a full on meltdown at the thought that two of his heroes want him to stay, but he’s a Drake and Drakes are very big on Proper and protocols and decorum, and he’s pretty sure this isn’t how things work. “I’m not actually supposed to be out by myself, so I definitely should be home before nine cuz that’s my bedtime...”

Dick takes him into his bedroom, drops him on his bed and says: “There you go. You’re in bed and its not even eight o’clock yet. Problem solved.”

“...I think it only counts if I’m in bed in my bed?”

Dick snaps his fingers and the headboard is mystically inscribed with “Tim” in a flourish of colorful sparks. “See? Its your bed now, it has your name on it and everything. This can be your new room and I’ll bunk with Jay. We can’t have you share a room with him, he snores and you’re too adorable to inflict that on. Growing boys need at least eight hours of RESTFUL sleep.”

Tim chews his lip. He’s not entirely sure the older boy’s logic is sound, but when laid out in that fashion, it doesn’t sound completely unreasonable, right? He makes one last token attempt to get up. Jason sits on him. Gently, but still.

“Oh no, we’re holding him against his will. We’ve officially kidnapped him at this point,” Jason says cheerfully. “Mom, you better go find his parents and tell them their son is missing and being held hostage and won’t be released until they can explain to the police why their son’s kidnappers had to notify them that their son was missing and had wandered all the way through Gotham at night alone.”

Tim protests. “Its not a big deal. I do that all the time!”

Jason and Dick look at him. Look at each other. Look at Zatanna. Arch their eyebrows expectantly.

Zatanna sighs. As ridiculous as her boys are being, this has played out about how she expected it would the second she realized the ten year old was completely on his own and used to it. And let’s face it. They’re only like this because she’s like this. She regrets everything except also she regrets nothing. Not that she’ll tell them that right now. They both look a little too smug in her opinion. Let ‘em sweat for at least a few hours. “I’ll go see what the situation is and figure out what to do next. Stay here and don’t let him eat too much sugar. And if you watch TV, nothing R-rated.”

Dick rolls his eyes. “We know. We’re not gonna scar the kid in like, the few hours you’re gone.”

“You made your brother watch The Babadook when he was eleven.”

“Well that’s different. He was being an ass. Timmy’s being adorable. Completely unrelated situations,” Dick says in the tone of someone who thinks they’re being reasonable. Jason scowls.

“Wow, are you seriously victim blaming me for the nightmares I got from that shit? Way to make fun of my psychological trauma, asshole.”

“Hey, I didn’t MAKE you watch that movie. I TOLD you to go to bed.” Dick idly examines his nails. "You’re the one who said you were too old to have a bed time and you could stay up as late as I could and anything I could watch you could watch too.”

“Oh please. That’s basic reverse psychology. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

“But Jay-jay, I thought you were too smart to ever fall for my tricks the way all my dumbass friends always do! Are you saying that’s not true? Did I actually manipulate my brilliant little brother who has always been much too clever and much too observant to ever be tricked into doing exactly what I wanted him to do? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Hey good news, Tim, neither of us will have to share a room after I murder this assface in his sleep.”

“Don’t worry Timmy, that’s just Jason for I love you.”

Zatanna sighs again and leaves before they can see her grinning. She enables their antics far too much as it is.

Within a week, the Zataras officially have custody of Timothy Jackson Drake. The boys are pretty sure that’s way too quickly for it to have happened legally, and there might have been a spell or two speeding up the process. But they don’t actually care, so. Yeah.

Unlike his brothers, Tim is the only one to fully embrace the titles of magician or sorcerer. His mind is his strength, research is his specialty, and its just inefficient in his opinion to waste time with acrobatics and brawling that comes naturally to them but would need to be acquired skills for him. Instead he just devotes all his learning to the mystic arts, learning from teachers of all kinds of specialties, but also just as much from his research of old texts and his theorizing on the natures of various forms of magic and how they interact. He happily spends hours poring over a dozen different translations and scribbling notes as he goes, distilling complex rituals into new forms that allow for the substitution of more commonplace ingredients and thus greatly widen the scope of his repertoire. He has a talent for doing all the legwork on a dozen different spells of incredible complexity and then leaving them ‘hanging’, with just the last bits incomplete, easily stored in his eidetic memory for him to call upon and trigger in mere moments as he finishes the last bit of any given spell with just a few words, thus doing in the heat of battle what other sorcerers would require hours to replicate.

All three end up gravitating to different superhero teams as they grow older, but all of them have their reputations with the hero community at large. Its generally expected that if you have a problem that needs a magical solution, and you’ve got enough time for preparation and planning - you call Tim. If you need to blow shit up and in a hurry - you call Jason. And if you’re just plain fucked and need a Hail Mary - you call Dick.

You’re usually gonna get all three anyway though, so whatever.

At some point when Tim's around fifteen or so himself, the Court of Owls ends up trying to get their Talons on Dick, because they suck and are terrible and entitled and their only real possible value comes from being a wasted potential metaphor for how often everyone seems to have their own ideas or expectations for what Dick should be doing or saying or feeling at any given time, with most of the things others get pissed about him for in the comics essentially boiling down to Dick doing or saying or feeling things that don't match up to their expectations or presumptions, and that people wouldn't bat an eye about anyone else doing or saying or feeling, its just Dick's supposed to be different, he's doing (x) wrong, ugh he can't even be traumatized properly without him usually ending up apologizing to other people for the fact that he was the one who was just screwed over, weird, its almost like these things are connected. I mean whoops, this is story time, not meta about all the thoughts and feels I, the dastardly fourth wall breaking narrator, have whilst butthurt on behalf of Dick. My badness.

Ahem.

Yes, when last we left our intrepid heroes, rich entitled bastards with a pervy penchant for nursery rhymes and child assassins had set their sights on claiming Dick and turning him into their mindless zombie bird-themed killing machine.

In all fairness, they did lead with the extremely persuasive argument of 'look we totally called dibs before he was even born, so.....step off??'

Then they kidnapped him and attempted to turn him into their mindless zombie bird-themed killing machine.

Compelling argument though that may be, Dick's brothers are not impressed. They are, however, magical, hyper-competent and extremely petty slash vindictive.

All of which is to say, Tim turns the Court into a bunch of actual owls. And then Jason summons a giant murderous hawk-demon from another dimension that eats all the owls.

And then they wait for Dick to wake up from all the drugs the Court pumped him full of in preparation for The Ritual of Zombie Assassin Making. And Tim just has to ruin it, that asshole.

"You know, hawks aren't naturally the enemies of owls," Tim says out of nowhere. Well. Not out of nowhere so much as out of concern, because Tim's natural physiological response to being worried is to get pedantic.

"What," says Jason flatly. Which is his natural physiological response to Tim being. Y'know. Tim.

Tim shrugs, his eyes intent on their older brother, who is still making like Sleeping Beauty and sooooo gonna get razzed by them for that later, once the Worry and Anxiety have all exited stage right. "It just felt like you were going for a theme. Which is fine, I'm just saying, owls don't actually have natural predators. One might occasionally get killed by a hawk, but usually that's more of a territorial dispute and still pretty much an outlier in terms of statistics."

"Why would you even say that to me right now," says Jason flatly. Not asking, because its a rhetorical question and he's currently glaring the answer to it straight at Tim's back, and that answer is ugh you are such an annoying little shit sometimes.

Which is why when Dick groggily starts to come to, he's greeted by a soundtrack of:

"God, I'm so sorry, I'm just the worst for giving you information that you didn't know before, since clearly if you had you wouldn't have gone with a hawk!"

"Well what the fuck should I have gone with, a demonic taxidermist? Like excuse me for being in such a rush to heap vengeance on the pretentious shits who kidnapped our brother, I didn't have time to go to wikipedia and figure out the most appropriate dramatic irony!"

"First off, why would you ever go to wikipedia as a source, we have literally had this exact argument several dozen times - "

"First off, are you seriously giving me bullet points right now. Seriously. Bullet points. Right now. That's a thing that's happening."

"You are such an infant. How are you older than me? I make one little critique and you bite my freaking head off - "

"What's happening?" Dick croaks out into one of the few synchronized pauses for breath. "Where are we?"

"The secret underground lair of an evil society of ornithologists who kidnapped you because your milkshake brings all the weirdos to the yard," Jason says crankily, still glaring at Tim.

Not that fuzzy, barely conscious but always guilt-prone Dick could possibly know that its not actually him Jason's ticked at. Tim face palms at his middle brother because what are bedside manners, clearly.

"A bird-themed cult calling themselves the Court of Owls pre-selected you to be turned into the general of their elite zombie assassin army," Tim recites quickly, predicting Dick's likely request for further information.

"Well that's rude," Dick frowns. He cracks open one eye experimentally, winces when even the dim lighting is enough to give his pounding headache a booster shot. Tries the other eye. Nope. Both eyes are in agreement. Light is the enemy of all that is good right now. Ugh. Definitely rude. He likes light. How dare someone incite this unforgivable betrayal from his BFF, light? "I don't think I care for their recruitment strategy. Although at least they wanted me to be the Boss Zombie Assassin I guess."

"Yes," Tim replies dolefully. "That does appear to be the silver lining here."

Despite their antagonism of thirty seconds ago, Jason snickers. They're nuanced like that.

"Well his usual priorities seem to be in place, so I think its safe to say we got to him before they could do any actual brainwashing," Jason says. "All in favor of blowing this popsicle stand?"

"Wait, there are popsicles?"

"No, there aren't popsicles in the evil cult's secret underground murder lair. Its a figure of speech, dumbass."

"Hey," Dick pouts. He coughs once, weakly, but Jason's eyes narrow in sudden suspicion of Milking It Syndrome. "Be nice to me. I was just kidnapped and almost made an Elite Zombie Assassin Boss and my head hurts and is all fuzzy and you know how I feel about popsicles. You shouldn't joke about them if you don't have any, that's just mean. But uh, should we be rushing? If the bad guys are coming back soon I do vote for the not being here option, like, just in case turning me into the Zombie Apocalypse is still on the evil cult agenda."

He would manage to latch onto the Elite and Boss part of that info dump, wouldn't he, Jason muses. What's the timeline for how long you have to express sympathy for your almost-brainwashed brother before you can yell at him for being insufferable about it? Is half an hour long enough?

"No, its fine," Tim assures their brother. "We uh....were slightly miffed about the whole kidnapping you thing, and so we were.....efficient? I guess you could say? About making sure they wouldn't do it again. I turned them all into owls."

"And then I summoned a hawk demon that ate them. You're welcome," Jason adds, not about to be left out. Even if he's going to have words later about being characterized as 'miffed.' The walking almanac knows more words in more languages than anyone in human history, pretty much, and he goes with miffed. The fuck, Timmy. The actual fuck.

"Aww, you guys, that's so sweet." Dick beams at them. Albeit at somewhat lower than his usual wattage. Then his forehead wrinkles slightly in confusion. "Why a hawk demon? Do owls not like hawks or something?"

Tim smirks at Jason viciously.

"I hate you with the searing intensity of a thousand suns," Jason tells his brat of a younger brother. "Also, gonorrhea."

Zatanna then teleports into the middle of the room with a flash of light and a hurried rush to the side of her lying-on-the-ground, suddenly flailing eldest son.

"Gah, evil light is evil! Curse your betrayal!" Dick wails dramatically, flinging an arm across his face despite the visible effort movement is still taking. Because he really is just that invested in keeping his Melodrama Game on point, willing to play through the pain if necessary. Jason rolls his eyes. If nothing else, he can at least respect his older brother's ability to commit.

"What happened here?" Zatanna wastes no time before asking, even as she begins running her hands lightly over Dick and muttering chants to divine for unseen injuries or influencing substances. Tim catches her up to speed with another dry recitation of the day's events. It doesn't sound any less ridiculous the second time around.

"And you two decided to just rush right into the heart of a criminal organization's secret headquarters with no plan, no way of knowing what you were jumping headfirst into and no back up?" Zatanna snaps out in a biting tone that's 70% Frantic Motherly OMG I Could've Lost All Three Of You I Don't Know What I Would've Done and 30% How Are You Seriously This Dumb, No, I Really Want To Know, You Boys Share Zero Genetics So It Can't Possibly Be Mutually Inherited Dumbness And Yet Here You All Are Being This Dumb, How, Why, I Strenuously Object.

At least, Jason's pretty sure its 70/30.

Eh. Maybe 60/40.

He looks at Tim and they both shrug. "We left a note," Jason offers lamely.

Their mightily miffed mother - and Jason totally gets it now, good call on that one actually, Timbo, Miffed can totally be intimidating, turns out - is not even slightly appeased.

"Yes, I did see your note," Zatanna says, slow and dangerous, an ominous cold front that's frosty enough to reverse global warming. Jason shivers. "The one that read 'Dick kidnapped by crazy bird freaks. Went to go get him. Somewhere in Gotham's sewers. Ugh why is it always sewers, I fucking hate sewers. Be back later. Love, Jason and Tim.' That note?"

Jason's honestly not sure what the problem is. All the relevant information was there. Tim glares at him.

"I knew I should have written the note," he hisses like an angry cat. Jason rolls his eyes again, because really, what other weapon does he have against his brothers' Drama?

"We had time for me to write a note, Tim. We didn't have time for you to write an essay with fully annotated footnotes all properly accredited according to MLA approved guidelines."

"I can be brief!"

"Name one time that you have ever been brief about anything. Ever."

Tim hesitates.

"Just because I can't think of anything right this second doesn't mean it didn't happen! You're just putting me on the spot," he sulks.

"Whatever. I'm not going to apologize for being in a rush. We had an older brother to save from evil brainwashing birdwatchers, remember? Would everyone prefer we took our sweet time and got here and found Zombie Dick instead?"

Tim wilts. Their mother thaws. Jason savors the moment. He so rarely gets to enjoy the moral high ground. Its nice, really. He can kinda see the appeal from up here, actually.

"That's Elite General Zombie Dick to you, peon," Dick chooses that moment to interject. Jason inhales through his nose. Five seconds. Five whole seconds that lasted.

"Seriously?" He asks his older brother. Dick blinks innocently.

"I am very traumatized by my near undeath experience," he explains. "That's just my coping mechanism."

Jason's eye twitches.

Later still, Jason somehow winds up getting into it with the Joker of all people, in Ethiopia of all places. Seriously, what, he still doesn't understand how or why any of that happened. His life, man. So fucking random.

But that's a story for another day. It doesn't end all that badly, all things considered, not nearly as bad as it could've. The moral of the story is essentially that six out of seven days, Jason is still the brother best avoided in dark alleys, but on the seventh day....Dick and Timmy are perhaps best avoided as well.

And later still, some jackass with a Wizard of Oz fetish decides that Tim-napping isn't just the worst colossally bad fucking idea any misfiring synapses have ever conceived. In this AU though, we stan brothers who check, double check and triple check before calling a time of death, because like the saying goes, fool us once, shame on you, fool us thirty seven times in just any single given decade, then yeah, that's probably on us at that point....

But non-brother approved Tim Tormenting is highly frowned upon in this universe, so Dick and Jason make like the Brothers Grimm, sharpen their spells and go questing down a literal yellow brick road that Dick conjures to lead them straight to the mysterious Mister Oz. And one of these days, Jason would really like to know where Dick gets some of his spells, he really would. Because. Yeah. Never mind, that's best unpacked another day, he figures.

Truthfully, that's all a story for another day as well, as Dick and Jason and Tim probably need to compare notes first and clear up a few things among themselves. None of them are entirely sure they even get what all of that was even about at all. It all seemed very strange and unnecessary, the standard villain monologues were a lot less explanatory than usual, nobody ever really satisfactorily explained Why You So Creepily Interested In Our Baby Bro, Bee Tee Dubs, and the deeper down the rabbit hole they all went, the more every reveal seemed to lead to an increasingly smaller Russian nesting doll hidden inside in the previous one.

And maybe the bad guy was Superman's dead dad from Krypton, which...okay, weird, whatever. And maybe he was just a patsy and the real monster all along was this giant glowing blue guy who seemed to have every power imaginable except for the power to put on a freaking pair of pants? I mean, everyone needs a gimmick, I guess. And then behind that funhouse mirror they found maybe the real villain all along was some rando in a toga who called himself Ozymandias and claimed to have been a hero, and nope, nuh uh, Jason isn't buying that for a second, he says you named yourself in reference to a line that literally says Look Upon My Works O Ye Mighty And Despair and you're saying everyone just went yup, that checks out, we've got ourselves a hero here, pure intentions through and through? Nope, sorry, not buying it.

And Ozy's face got as purple as the costume that would've gotten him in the door to any frat party but not much else, and honestly, as much as it flaps in a firm breeze its not even a step up from Dr. Moons Over Manhattan's permanent residency at a nude ranch he takes with him everywhere he goes, more of a lateral move really....

And he opened his mouth to say something suitably villainous and to do something no doubt dastardly, but that's when Dick cut him off with a yawn and a "Oh my god I have never been this bored in my life, I honestly don't care. Literally nobody asked." And he conjured up his yellow brick road again, told them he had no idea which of them needed the brain, which the heart and which the courage, but like...discuss among yourselves, and then he and Jason punted all three losers off to see the Wizard except Dick shrugged after shutting down the spell and said that guy died, like, five years ago. Its just no one else there has figured that out yet. Whoops. Oh well.

Look, its as clear and understandable a resolution to that particular adventure as anyone else might have doled out over an unnecessarily padded number of weeks until the patience of everyone involved was stretched well past the point of reason, so....whatever. That's what happened, the end.

And then Jason blows some shit up until he feels better about how obnoxiously pointless all that was and there's lots of yelling about worst bad guys ever, is there no vetting process anymore, are the inmates running the asylum, has the whole universe gone mad. Which somehow segues into Tim yelling about is Jason seriously upstaging him at his own Dramatic Rescue, how is this about him, oh my god, can't I even get five whole minutes to angst without you carjacking the family Waah-mobile.

Meanwhile Dick leans back contentedly against the one wall still standing as a convenient backdrop, and watches the baby bros go. And Mom says they don't have any family traditions.

He actually really enjoys these moments. At least the ones where nobody's yelling at him.

But again, as I said....really all that's a tale for another day. On this day, what remains of significance is the universal truism that no matter the universe, the timeline, the place or the time or the people.....

If there be a Bruce, then that Bruce is gonna Bruce.

And we all know what that looks like.

That is to say:

Meanwhile, back in Gotham, events unfold in strangely familiar ways. Even if some of their usual players are currently preoccupied sojourning their way back across the dimensions before they're late for dinner and Momma Zatara has their heads. Adopted though her kids may be, Zatanna is still an Italian mother. And you do not fuck with an Italian mother's family dinner plans.

That's how people die.

But fractionally less dramatically than Zatanna sits awaiting her boys' late arrival to dinner with a A Damn Good Explanation For That If They Know What’s Good For Them, Bruce meets Cassandra Cain and rescues her from her father.

He’s still Bruce Wayne, even if events played out differently for his first three canon kids. So he does what any Bruce would do and adopts her.

And then Cass brings Stephanie home and says she’s a runaway and her dad was a villain and well, what’s Bruce gonna do, not adopt her? Don't be absurd.

And then Talia shows up on Bruce’s doorstep and shoves a ten year old Damian at him and says "Congratulations, its a boy. Please take care of him while I go and try and kill my father and sister without getting killed by them first. I’m not sure how long that will take but my father has managed to last six centuries despite countless betrayals so I suspect it might be awhile."

I imagine these events all happen roughly in the span of a month, because there is no such thing as a world where Bruce knows how to pace himself.

There’s also no such thing as a world where Bruce knows how to gracefully ask for help. But even at his most stubborn he’s capable of recognizing when things fall outside his skillset and his best move is to seek advice from experts in fields outside his expertise. Like parenting.

And his old friend Zatanna has raised three boys who are well loved and respected by the entire hero community, so she must know what she’s doing. Yes, absolutely, his frazzled mind decides. Zatanna will have all the answers. His logic is sound. He's double checked his math and everything. Yes, he has equations for this sort of thing. No, they're not scientifically or empirically accurate, but just because one has arbitrarily assigned numeric values to various events, decisions and possible outcomes in order to justify to oneself that one's intended course of action is Endorsed By Data and Scientifically Derived Conclusions, like....that doesn't mean those values are all arbitrary and the conclusions and data that derive from them are fictitious and meaningless.

Shhh, shhh, don't question that last sentence, just nod and smile and accept that you're just not quite brilliant enough to understand the genius that is Brucenometry, and that's totally understandable and the real reason Bruce hasn't shared the math system he invented with the rest of the world. We just wouldn't get it, you see?

(And yes, he absolutely calls it Brucenometry in his head, because despite what the Batmen of other universes would have us believe, all the eight year old incarnations of Dick Grayson are naught but a scapegoat for the emotionally stunted manchild who absolutely devised the labeling system of 'what if I put Bat in front of every word tho and that's how you knew it was mine, yes, good, this is obviously the most logical and efficient taxonomy possible, its practically the Occam's Bat-Razor of nomenclatures, huzzah I am the smartest in all the land, eat my Batshit I mean guano I mean crazy I mean shut up no you're dumb.' And if you don't think Bruce sounds like that in his head you're just drinking the Kool-Aid, dear reader. Pick up any issue where Bruce is having an emotional fight with someone and skip to where he insists on having the last word before sweeping dramatically into the darkness, and substitute that last word with 'nuh uh, your face'. It reads practically the same, I swear.

Anyway, thus Brucenometry is only Brucenometry instead of Batnometry because he came up with the math first. The math is literally how he calculated that combining crime fighting with his fursona was by far the most expedient route for building a better, brighter Gotham? Duh? Like if you don't get it, he really can't explain it any more clearly than that, and this is possibly one of the reasons he doesn't let the Martian Manhunter in his head. Well, that and all the equally Scientific Ponderings on how accurate a label 'Buns of Steel' is for Superman's butt, and how might this best be tested. Y'know. For Science.)

It's possible I've gotten off track here. I blame Bruce. Bruce blames Clark's ass. Its this whole thing.

Ahem.

So Bruce decides Zatanna has all the answers to all his questions, clearly. Because you see, Bruce knows practically everything that's worth knowing, so anyone who knows something Bruce doesn't already know, ergo, ipso facto, must therefor in conclusion be smarter than Bruce. And if they're smarter than Bruce, as smart as Bruce already is and knowing as much as Bruce already knows, well then, they must know literally everything.

Bam. You've just been Bat Logic-ed.

Bruce sends a message. He waits. He's expecting something along the lines of a call back, but one minute he blinks and the next minute Zatanna's in the middle of the disaster his new brood of three have made of his living room, hands on her hips, shaking her head as she looks around.

“What did you do?” She asks, exasperatedly.

He really doesn't understand why so many people take that particular tone with him. All of his choices are excellent and backed by Brucenometry. He can show his work and everything.

Bruce would respond, but he’s distracted by the three unknown variables. He admittedly had not expected her to bring all three of her boys along with her. Then again, they're magicians and magic always messes up his calculations. Its the worst. Stupid magic. He keeps himself from glaring at the teenager, practically still a teenager, and fully grown man chugging down a Pixie stick while playing what sounds like Candy Crush on his phone with his free hand.

Zee just shakes her head at him when Bruce tries to turn her question back on her with a pointed look.

“They were with me when I got your message and they wanted to come. Given how non-informative and vague the information you gave me was, it seemed plausible they might have a helpful perspective. Don’t change the subject. What did you do.”

“In all fairness, I should clarify that we were mostly just bored,” Tim says dryly.

“Also, this sounded amazing,” Jason adds, smirking.

Dick bounces up and down. “I’m very excited to be here for this! By the way, what is this, what's happening, what's going on? I was not totally paying complete attention, maybe. Oooh, does this place have an indoor pool? I bet it has an indoor pool. God, I love how completely unnecessary old rich people houses are, its amazing.”

That’s when a ten year old mini-Bruce wanders in, parentage apparent in every premature scowl line on his face. “Father, who are these people?”

Dick emits a gleeful sound that lends credence to his spirit friends’ theory he’s not entirely human and just appears right next to Damian, sweeping him up into a hug. His brothers blink, unsure if he had a teleport spell they didn’t know about, or if his natural ability to seek out anyone in need of a hug like a heat-seeking missile could actually allow him to move faster than the eye can see. Could go either way, to be honest.

“Oh my god, he’s like a tiny baby bat, he’s adorable,” Dick says, words rushing out at a speed normally achievable only by speedsters.

Damian has frozen at the unexpectedness of his behavior, but the outrage swiftly sets in. “What did you just call me?”

“A tiny baby bat!”

“Not that, the other thing.”

“Adorable!”

“How dare you!” The ten year old produces a knife from somewhere and attempts a stabbing that results in said knife being transmuted into a Twizzler. Dick twists in that unnatural way only his body is capable of and somehow mid-hug still manages to eat the Twizzler, because why not, apparently.

“I’m keeping him,” Dick declares, right on schedule. "He is my new brother and also now my weekend favorite, sorry not sorry. Jason is now my Monday and Friday favorite and Timmy is my Tuesday and Thursday favorite. Wednesdays can be my me time."

"But Dick," Tim deadpans in a lifeless monotone, now absorbed in doing something with his own phone. "How can I not be your Wednesday favorite? On Wednesdays we wear pink."

Jason rocks back on his heels, rolls his head back on his neck and stares up at the room's high, vaulted ceiling despairingly. "I hate that I get that reference. I hate that so much. I just don't know if I hate Tim for saying it, Dick for being the reason he said it, or me for hearing it and getting it. Quick, somebody tell me who to punch, I can't make this decision, its too hard."

Zatanna pinches the bridge of her nose and exhales. Cass and Steph lurk in the doorway and stare at the scene, bemused. Bruce is statue still. It’s possible his complete inability to process anything that’s happening right now has computer-crashed his every system. See kids, this is what comes of spending too much time trying to emulate a robot. Don't do drugs. Stay in school. Emote.

“Dick, I know that worked out for you the last two times you tried that, but its not going to fly here. This child actually has an emotionally invested parent capable of providing for him, and I don’t believe the Batman is likely to relinquish his claim without a fight,” Zatanna says, her exasperation now redirected at her eldest.

Dick remains unphased; merely diverts his attention from Damian to the boy’s father, raking his eyes up and down Bruce as the older man reenacts the pose of Rodin's lesser known work: The Oh God, What Was I Thinking.

He sniffs. Once. Pointedly unimpressed. “I am willing to work out a shared custody agreement,” Dick says regally.

Bruce gradually twitches his way back into the realm of actual human activity and motion.

“What?” He shakes himself all over, a bit like a dog. Then he seems to reboot his higher cognitive functions as he draws up to his full height and towers over the younger man. “I’m not sure what you think you’re playing at here, but this is not why I called your mother and I do not need some boy barely out of his teens to tell me -"

Dick cuts him off, rolling his eyes even as Bruce, Steph, Cass and Alfred’s eyes all widen at the sheer novelty of that. Even Damian goes silent and still, no longer fighting Dick’s octopus like limbs as he’s too busy flicking his attention back and forth between Dick and Bruce like he’s a spectator at a tennis match, watching it unfold.

Jason and Tim just smirk knowingly. Zatanna regrets everything.

“Yes, yes, we’re aware the Batman has a million contingency plans for any given scenario. We’re all very impressed. Your IQ is huge,” Dick says flatly. “Quick question though, how many of those contingency plans involve hugging?”

Bruce blinks. “What?”

“That’s what I thought,” Dick continues smugly. “Now, in your history as a crime fighter and a benefactor of numerous children’s charities, do you dispute that all children at certain times need to be hugged?”

“No?” Bruce answers uncertainly. He…has no precedence for this. What is happening right now.

“Mmm,” Dick hums, nodding. “And in your personal self-assessment and in light of all your established behavior to date, would you say with confidence that you are capable of always recognizing when a child is in need of a hug, as well as being able and willing to provide that child with said hug yourself?”

Bruce frowns. Everyone in the room takes that as a no. Seals in Antarctica look up and take that as a no, without any idea why they just did that or what it even is they just did. Also, what the hell is a no, they have no clue. They still somehow know the answer to that question was no.

“Exactly,” Dick says. “So, to sum up, we’ve established that your children need hugs, you need to be taught when and how to identify when your children need you to hug them, and until such a time as you’re capable of that, your children still need hugs. In conclusion, my services are direly needed and I am willing to teach you everything I know about providing adorable children with emotional support in exchange for the role of their designated Hug-Giver for the time being. Do you accept my offer?”

“I…” Still stuck on the unprecedented feeling of being at a total loss for words, Bruce is slow to answer. Not that it matters.

“Trick question!” Dick announces cheerfully. “There was no offer, its already been decided. I can start immediately. You're welcome.”

He shifts Damian to his hip with one arm and raises the other to offer the boy his hand for a shake. “Hi Damian, I’m Dick, I’m your official Hug-Giver for now. Nice to meet you!”

Damian shakes Dick’s hand, more out of confusion than anything else. Clearly, nothing in his training or experience offers him any obvious alternate response to Dick’s behavior. “Father, who is this man? What is happening? I don’t understand.”

“That makes two of us,” the goddamn Batman says helplessly. They can all see his face spasming, his muscles twitching as if periodically glitching while he tries to compute and come up with a course of action that adequately counters Dick’s….whatever the hell you describe Dick and his entire….essence, as.

Gods have tried and failed to accurately describe Dick and his whole….Dick-ness. The Batman never stood a chance.

Tim takes pity on him. He’s mostly preoccupied hacking the Manor’s wi-fi on his phone, trying to see if he can backdoor from there into the famed Batcave’s computers. No real reason, he’s just curious. But even barely paying attention, he can still tell the difference between Dick’s more generic ‘oooh a squirrel!’ ADHD reaction to all adorable children or animals in his general vicinity, and the genuine emotional attachment his brother has clearly already formed with the confused child assassin. It’s too late now. Whether he’s even realized it or not, Damian stopped trying to escape Dick’s hug practically from the word go, even if he is unconsciously using his confusion to blind himself to how he’s already started to sink into it. Not even Superman himself could pry the kid out of Dick’s arms at this point.

“You can try all you want to come up with ways to keep this from happening, but you’ll just be wasting your time and energy,” Tim advises, still intent on his phone. Two passwords down, nice. Only….ninety more to go? Jeez. Oh god, if he’s this redundant about his cyber security, he’s gonna try and be stubborn about this, isn’t he? Ugh, how inefficient.

“Look, no matter how many plans you come up with, it doesn’t matter what you throw at him or how convoluted or well-crafted it is. At a certain point Dick’s just going to say screw it and dig his heels in, and no offense, but I’ve seen him out-stubborn demons. He once got a Duke of Hell to release a claim on Jason’s soul by committing to “I know you are but what am I” until the ageless being composed of pettiness and spite got frustrated and gave up. My brother on a mission to dole out affection is an actual force of nature. Like hurricanes. Even Jason lets Dick hug him. And Jason hates everything.”

“Die screaming,” Jason says conversationally.

“See a therapist about your Cain complex,” Tim returns, equally pleasant.

“I thought I told you boys to be on your best behavior,” Zatanna says. Either exasperated again, or just still. Hard to say.

Jason cocks an eyebrow at her quizzically before looking around the room. “Umm, we are, aren’t we? I mean, we’ve been here for at least five minutes and nothing’s on fire or broken yet. You gotta admit that’s like, a record for us.”

Zatanna sputters helplessly for a moment before collapsing onto the couch with a sigh. “The bar is too low,” she mutters. "And don't think I didn't catch that bit about a Duke of Hell having a claim on Jason's soul at some point. We will be circling back to that later, at home."

"Dude," Jason hisses, glaring at his little brother. "Spoilers!"

"Sorry," Tim says distractedly, with a distinct lack of sincerity. "In my defense, we lie about a lot of stuff and I forget to keep track of it all."

"You have an eidetic memory."

"Okay, so I forget to care about keeping track of it all," Tim amends, shrugging.

"That's just because you never get in as much trouble as me and Dick. Helps to be the baby of the family," Jason grumbles.

Tim hums softly in agreement, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he peers intently at his screen. "The perks are nice."

Zatanna interjects as she eyes her two younger sons, a slight edge in voice. "Exactly how much stuff am I being lied to about? Ballpark figure."

Jason glares at Tim again. "You're a goddamn menace."

"I should probably be stopped," Tim agrees.

“Nonsense!” Damian’s aggrieved voice cuts over everyone else in the room. “I am an al Ghul, and heir to the Batman. If this tournament you speak of were truly a contest of champions, I would certainly have heard of it before now.”

Dick returns his glower with his usual beaming grin. “I swear by every being of both the higher and lower planes to ever lend me power or aid. Super Mario Kart is a test of manual dexterity, hand-eye coordination and reflex agility. Any true warrior should be more than capable of defeating all competitors at it.”

Damian stays trained on his face for a good minute, searching it for any hint of deception. Finally he turns and sweeps his imperious gaze around the room, jumping back and forth between his father to Jason and Tim, though the latter is still absorbed tracking to crack the thirty-sixth password to the Batcomputer. “Is this true?”

“Technically yes,” Jason says with the smirk to end all smirks. Sometimes his older brother is a total toolbag, but sometimes it really is like watching a master at work. How to Lie Without Telling a Single Lie by Dick Grayson-Zatara.

Damian harrumphs like the eighty seven year old that he is at heart, but with a secondary affirmation and no one speaking up to offer a counter-claim, his pride seems to allow him no alternative to accepting Dick’s challenge.

“Very well,” he says grudgingly. “I will engage you in this competition of supers and carts. But when I inevitably prove victorious, as consequence for your failure you and your babbling are to be banished from my father’s estate, never to return.”

“K!” Dick grins. “But if I win, you have to initiate three hugs a day for a solid week straight, at which point you may challenge me to a rematch and reclaim your honor.”

“Preposterous! One hug a day. No more.”

“One hug a day, but after two weeks I can challenge you to a rematch at my home instead.”

“I shudder to think what you might consider an acceptable abode. No, if I must vanquish you twice before you realize the folly of challenging an al Ghul, you shall return here only for the purposes of engaging in this ‘rematch’, and only after two months have passed, so that you may reflect on the futility of such.”

“One month, final offer.”

“Tt. Your terms are acceptable,” Damian decides at last. Dick’s already brilliant smile grows impossibly more blinding, as it is wont to do. The whole defiance of physics thing he does so well. Unprepared for it, the startled boy blinks, corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly upwards before he regains his normal stern countenance. “Now lead me to these carts at once. I wish to see you defeated before supper, so I do not have to suffer your presence through my meal.”

“You got it, lil D!” Dick chirps happily, bouncing through the doorway and down the hall, where Cass and Steph exchange glances that condense an entire conversation to thirty seconds of back and forth facial expressions. They then race down the hall after the two. Damian’s outrage drifts back behind them.

“My name is Damian al Ghul-Wayne, you buffoon! It is a name of power and significance, heavy with meaning and intent. How dare you reduce it to a simple reference to physical stature!”

“Aww, I’m sorry bud! It was meant as an endearment not an insult. I give nicknames to all my friends and family. What if I called you Dami? Is that better?”

“….I suppose if my full name is too difficult for you to manage, Dami is at least marginally more tolerable. But only if it is understood that we are hardly friends!”

“Whatever you say, Dami!”

Their voices fade into the distance after that. Jason puts his hands in his pockets and strolls casually after them.

“That was amazing. My faith in humanity has like....risen reborn from the ashes. I might even believe in Santa Claus again? Not sure yet about that last part," he muses to no one in particular. "I’m so happy right now.”

Tim shrugs and trails after him. If everyone else is going, well. No reason he can’t finish hacking the Batcomputer from wherever they end up.

Bruce watches them disappear down the hallway before staggering over to the couch and dropping down onto it next to Zatanna. He stares blankly at the wall.

“What.” He utters helplessly.

Zatanna pats his leg. “You get used to it. Eventually.”

And that’s how even when Dick’s adopted by Zatanna Zatara instead of Bruce Wayne, he, Jason, Tim, Damian, Cass, Steph and those to follow all still end up siblings in every way that matters.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

~Meet Me In The Hallway~

Chapter 28-Fern Gully

I was laying on the bottom part of Harry's stomach doing my best to distract him with a game I had made up called, "Between Two Ferns."

It basically consisted of me going over all his tattoos and telling him why I thought they were stupid. It started when we had first gotten to South America. The hours in my bed at home had been frenzied and apparently noisy, but the lights were off and I missed a few additions to Harry' s body. It should have been a game for me. Surely, I could play those memory cards that little kids do and try to write down all of the 50+ tattoos the gorgeous idiot had on his body. I had postulated their meaning one night, using my deep thinking wanna be a writer and have read too many classics brain to give full meaning to many of the pieces of art he had chosen. I had then come to find out many of them were just completely stupid. "Oh, I wanted to try my gun." "Zayn likes Pink Floyd, well that album, I think." "Oh, do you not like 'Pingu', love?" These were the deep well of meaning for his forever etchings I'd run into. When we had a whole hotel room with a big white bed to sleep in one night in Rio, I'd been loose lipped from caipirinhas and loose limbed from Harry and told him that my Favorite tattoo had been the 'might as well' tattoo he had covered up with the giant ferns. I'd been emboldened by the alcohol I was slowly learning to enjoy in his presence. He'd been imbibing it liberally and I'd pulled him off Ben Winston to take him to our room. Some part of me meant this very innocently, but the newer, louder part meant every filthy implication of putting him to bed. I also wanted to try something new. The elevator had been empty, and for once it was handsy Melly. "Baby." He'd snorted, "that tickles!" He'd sneezed while I wiggled my fingers over his newly obscured v lines. "Good, now you know how it feels!" I'd giggled like I was the receiver of the tickles and the door had opened and he made a run for the door of our room. He'd swiped himself in and tried to close me out. My first instinct was to fight my way in, like I would with my brother, but instead I used a tactic I had recently discovered. I stuck out my bottom lip a little and looked up at him through my lashes, "Baby," I added a touch of whine to my voice. It really made me want to roll my eyes at myself, but Harry turned to custard when I combined these moves. He pulled the door back open and linked our fingers, pulling. The momentum of the move propelled me into his body and the closing door meant magnetized lips. Harry walked backwards through the living area making the most direct line possible without eyes and while physically connected to someone by teeth and tongue. It felt sexy, but Harry was undeniably clumsy and drunk. I had thought about his flailing limbs and falling habits one day and remembered when Michael sprouted up during puberty. It was like he was unaware of where his body began and ended suddenly. My brother had grown out of this growth induced bumbling. Harry had not. I wonder if from the outside looked like a pinball game as we ricocheted off of sofas and walls to make it to the bedroom. From the inside, the focus was on one another and getting to the room with the softest horizontal surface. The back of Harry's knees hit the mattress and I'd pushed him down. His hat popped off his head and the light from the window hit the sweat on his cheekbones making them glow. The light also caught the points of his collarbones and the ridges of his ribs and even the tips of his hipbones. These points of interest caught my eye too, in wonderfully frustrating ways. I realized then that he was drunk, but I was definitely tipsy. I pinched his right fern. I really wanted to pinch his v lines, but I couldn't see them so well anymore. "Why the fuck did you get these, mate?" I soothed my finger over the now hidden words. I missed them. He shivered at the contact, but frowned at my words. "You don't like them, angel?" He grabbed at my hands and started to sit up. I stopped his motion and pushed him back down. "Are they supposed to be arrows pointing to your dick?" I ticked up an eyebrow. "Because everybody knows where that is. Can't miss it." I cupped him through the damp cloth of his boxers and found him more than half hard. He swallowed and tried to find something to say. I decided to continue to leave him speechless. "Do you just like to keep the accounts that keep track of your stupid tattoos—" "Heeey!" "Busy?" His skin was on fire beneath my fingertips, running a few degrees above the usual and I wanted to be brave. I bit my lip and decided to go with the bold spirit I was feeling. Teasing him with words was familiar and made me more comfortable teasing him with other tools. I'd just hooked my fingers under his swim trunks when he found his voice. "You really don't like them?" The little people pleaser pouted. "Well," I pulled his trunks down watching his glans pop free of his waistband and hit between the two fern leaves. "I miss the less obscured view of your v lines." I leaned down and licked one, until my face was right next to his bobbing dick. I licked down the other way and stopped just above his waiting shaft. It flexed towards me and he whined. "But if it's a map telling me where I should go..." And I licked his tip and he made a new sound I wanted to hear on repeat.

My boldness started to flag when I realized I wasn't sure what to do, so I stroked him in a way that had become familiar and looked at him beseechingly. "Just," he sucked in a breath. "Just put it in your mouth. You'll be amazing, Melody. Just," he bucked into my hands and I wrapped my lips around the tip. His head popped up to watch, "watch the teeth."

So I opened my mouth wider and pursed my open lips and went down until it was uncomfortable and came back up. A natural suction was created and Harry's neck got weak. "That's it, Angel!" So I repeated the motion, and he reached a hand down to where I was holding his base. He moved my hand with his, up and down while I sucked his tip shallowly. Out of curiosity I pulled off to watch him and I stroke over his cock. The foreskin would come up and swallow his flared head and go back down again. I licked his glans and then again when the jacket covered it. His hand was speeding up and he was panting with anticipation. I jerked my hand to get him to let me take back over and chased his prepuce up and down until his hand buried itself into my hair and he quietly humped my mouth. "Angel, Melody, you gotta..."

I opened my eyes wide. He sounded like he was really close, stumbling over his words.

"I'm gonna cum!" He pulled my mouth off by my hair and I loved the yank. He covered the ferns with thick white spurts and I was transfixed.  Condoms had kept me from coming into contact with his ejaculate. I ran my fingers through and lay my head on the top of his thigh before bringing some gathered fluid to my mouth. It was bitter, but not unpleasant. He whined watching me.

"Next time, don't stop me?" I asked, I was pretty sure boys liked that from being unwillingly adjacent to a lot of male voices for years. "Melody," he prayed a hallelujah and linked our fingers again over a fern. "Still not sure I like these, but they seem to work!" I pinched his right fern and he yelped out a laugh. After that, I'd lay on his lower stomach sometimes before during and/or after and give him my opinions on things like the word big-stupid, sparrows-love, and padlocks-did a five year old do that? I also liked to do it when he was feeling stressed. It distracted both of us from the unforgiving pace we were going at. It was crazy to be on this beast of a tour. The crowds, the dates-one right after another, with no breaks, the constant promo, and now the 1D boys were also recording an album. Most nights Harry did not make it back to our room until 4 am. He'd fall into bed and lack enough interest to fade into me. The Take Me Home tour had been constant and strained and even crazier than the current circuit we were making around world with the film crew and writing and recording and adding dates upon dates.

It did not seem to be as thoroughly exhausting though. It may have been that those were incremental changes. The boys weren't faced with nearly a year of traveling to start with. Also, they had been fresher then. Fresher faced and had not already made three back to back albums and two circumnavigation of the globe in three years. The excitement of their new lives, fame, and money could have staved off the exhaustion. It wasn't so new now. But the pace remained. And it remained relentless. I could see it on the face of all of the boys. Niall weathered it best, you could bottle his energy. Louis got snarkier, Liam alternated between drinking and exercising, and Zayn withdrew. But I saw the changes in Harry more. To be fair, we essentially lived together, like a roving band of gypsies and Harry and I shared our caravan. When he came in and literally timbered into bed, with few words and no cuddles, I worried a little. One night was worrisome, night after night was problematic. "Fuck!" Harry roared walking in one evening. It wasn't the emotion I missed from him, but any show of personality not on stage was appreciated. However, this was accompanied by a slung bottle of water I had to jump over. "Ahh!" I found myself stumbling and tripping over my own feet. "Shit, sorry Melly! Didn't see you." Ouch.

I let the fact that he saw me rarely go. He came over and pulled me up. I thought he'd hug me, but the waves of emotion radiating off of him were of the don’t touch me variety. I took a step back from him and crossed my arms. "What's up Harry?" I gave him a glance over. "They fucking added a video shoot during our off time!" He ranted and started to pace. "Off time, which we don't fucking get, ever, and I had plans, in LA for meetings, about, like, after. Dammit, I'm gonna look like a stupid kid or uninterested! Fucking managements gonna milk us dry and then let us fade to oblivion. Give us no time to get another career or make other connections." All of his thoughts made sense, I knew they were all frustrated with the scheduling and pace and were continually pushing for more creative control. I had never heard these specific frustrations from Harry though and wondered where they were coming from. I knew in our time apart he had had a whole life I was unaware of and that he met and became close to some important people. There was a time when I'm sure I would have known all about his new plans and hopes, but a lot of the time that we used to spend talking was now spent doing other things, and lately, with recording, even that wasn't happening. At least I got to hold him while he slept. Harry gave a big sniff and coughed before running out of steam and deflating onto the couch below him. The coughs intensified and I thought about that too, worried about that too. He was sick, a lot. He had nearly not made it to me last tour because of his weakened immune system. He needed a break, they all needed a break, but they were just over half way through and I had already heard there would be another tour on the heels of this one. I worried. Mostly for Harry, and the other boys, their health and life and careers. But I also worried about Harry and I. There were things I didn't know, that I should. We weren't talking enough, and our other modes of connection where being belayed by late nights, the need for sleep, and snotty noses. I made my way over to the couch and fitted myself behind his body. I tried to tell him everything with that move. Harry nuzzled into me and found his way to my lap like he'd loved since our first movie date that wasn't a date. My hand was going to his hair as he reached to bring it there. "I'm sorry, H. I know you are tired—" "Honestly Melly, at this point I miss tired. Um, i'm so far beyond it that.." he shook his head and I petted him. "If...." I wasn't sure how to tell him I'd take the cup from him. "Is it weird to tell you I'd be you for any length of time to give you rest?" He rolled onto his back then to look up at my face and his lips turned down and his eyes filled.   He caressed my face while he let his frustration leak from his eyes. "No, because then, um, then you would feel like this. And I'd never want that for you." I leaned down to kiss his sweet lips and scoffed when he turned his face. "Harry..." "No, like, you'll get sick, like last time, Angel, and I won't be able to take care of you. Because I'll be fucking gone, like always."

“Baby, is there anybody you can talk to about this? To fix it?” I was scared to ask.

He looked at me in a way I’d never seen. Harry usually looked at me like I was magic, or brilliant, or his. In this moment, he looked at me like I was simple, and not in a good way. “Melody, they don’t care. They only want to milk the cash cow. If I am burned out or washed up at 23, they don’t care. Only I care, or you, or my mom. Maybe close friends, or Jeff?’ There was a question there.

“Who’s Jeff?” I’d heard the name mentioned and seen him pop up in the google alert I’d set for Harry.

“Azoff.” he said, like it meant something. I was going to ask the other questions, I was. I knew that they were important and that there were things that we should say-puzzle pieces missing, but Harry had blown out a breath and settled himself into my lap. “Angel?”

I pulled my attention from where I was staring at his hand, he’d started to wear rings. It was laying on his thigh. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.” His hand cupped my chin.

“For what?” I placed my fingers over his to tangle them together.

“For just…” he closed his eyes. “For being here, for….listening, I guess.”

“Always, H.” I promised and squeezed his hand. “I’m still your best friend.”

His eyes were closed, and I could tell he was nodding off.

The next day, i went shopping with the girl’s, and they all giggled when I bought Harry a ring. Lottie doubted he would even wear it. But Lou, Lou seemed to know him almost as well as me.

“He’ll love it,” she inspected the square lettering-PEACE- “he could use it.” and I nodded along with her.

Harry held me against him when I gave it to him that night. “It’s perfect, Angel.” He slipped it on immediately and we both admired the way it looked against his skin, and then my own.

At the time, it was a sweet moment between us. My wish for him and a promise to be his resting place. I think it still means something to him, he still wears my ring.

I still wear a matching one.

It mattered. It matters, but now I think maybe it was a volley into no man’s land, a lost cause. I was a little child trying to stop a flood by sticking my finger in a dyke.

Because the only way to save us, was to sacrifice me.

 I don’t know who you are, but playlist anon-I love you!!!

[startwreck]

I’m going to attempt to recap Duchovny in Boston day (February 22, 2017.) Warning: this could get long and sappy because it’s 3 AM and I’m just brain dumping. Under a cut...

Woke up this morning think I would only go to the Bucky F*cking Dent reading/signing event. Had a ticket and I loved the book (read it / Audible’d it last spring) and thought secondhand embarrassment would be minimal in that setting. Great. Planned to cut out of work for a couple hours to go. As I’m walking to the venue, Jen @snowvitamins texted me, and through the magic of distinctive scarves, we were able to make our acquaintance. She was with Mer @damselindistressmya. Fun fact: In the course of trying to find each other, Mer was described as wearing “a Mulder season 10 jacket.” In my anxious and distracted state, I took this to mean that Mer was wearing a jacket with a likeness of Mulder in Season 10 on it (I pictured a varsity jacket, you know, with a leather torso and felted sleeves? and then just a giant Mulder head on the back of it.) Needless to say, I momentarily pondered hiding my scarf-marker. Luckily, I’m an idiot and Mer was wearing an Army jacket similar to the one Mulder wore in Season 10:

So the reading doesn’t happen. Not sure if this was due to the size of the turnout (we wouldn’t have all fit where they do their readings), time constraints, voice preservation, a rogue edible, or what (file under: none of my business.) I was excited to hear David read a chapter so I was briefly disappointed, but totally understand, would still follow the Booksmith and/or DD to the end of the earth.

Stand in line for a while and then it’s my turn. Give him the book with the post-it with my name in it. He pronounces my name correctly (as if I didn’t love him enough already) and I give a smile and say “yep.” He starts doing the inscription. My brain then says “fuck it; we’ll do it live” and I say “I really like the line, ‘Eighty-six years, a long and lucky life’” and tell him how my grandfather, a lifelong Red Sox fan, lived almost exactly those eighty-six years that he’s referring to, born in 1918 and passed in early 2005. I must have been looking down at the table/book when I said most of this, because when I return my gaze up to his face partway through this, he was giving me that Intense Eye Contact (TM), clearly flattered that someone quoted his own words to him. It was a solid looking-into-your-soul kind of stare, like he was trying to decipher who I was in a five second period (and I gladly would have given him my entire family’s social security numbers in that moment.) The man knows how to connect with an audience, that’s for sure (#ACTING.) At that point, either DD or the manager dude standing there  (I blacked out so not sure who it was) says, “So he got to see them win.” Downer that I am, I reply bluntly, “Well he had Alzheimer’s at the end so we’re not sure that he really knew.” Manager dude said something like “I’m sure he did” (aka “stop talking, crazy.”) I say “thank you” and make my exit. 

Now, had my Day of Duchovny ended there, my day still would have been made. But what happened over the course of the rest of the day was something special. It was a beautiful much-needed reminder of how the arts can connect pseudo-strangers in a magical way and how there is still goodness in humanity.

Over lunch with @snowvitamins, @damselindistressmya, and @myassbrokethefall​, we all come back down the earth. I learned that @myassbrokethefall​ almost accidentally had David sign a book about sheep herding and @damselindistressmya​ had a lover’s quarrel with him over basketball. We exchange details about “real life” and also discuss topics of fandom and Tumblr politics. It is lovely. They’re all going to the concert, I want to hang out with them more, and they promise I can hide behind them if I’m embarrassed, so I buy a concert ticket on my phone as we’re finishing lunch. It’s mezzanine-level so I can always sneak out or hide behind a seat, right?

I go back to work for literally two hours. I catch up on email but also flail to @dangerscully​ and @crossedbeams​, my transatlantic support team. Yes, you guys are a part of this story. Thank you for your support and sweet messages. Can’t wait til we unite. Let’s just meet halfway into the Atlantic, shall we? I’ll start paddling now...

After a solid two hours of work, it’s time to get our drink on. @stellagibsonisalifeforce and @x-files-behind-the-scenes joined the lunch crew for dinner/drinks pre-concert and they’re awesome too. Seriously, reminder that if you ever have the opportunity to meet Tumblr friends in “real life,” do it. I only have a couple drinks and I’m getting nervous that it won’t be enough to combat secondhand embarrassment. But I’m in it now. It’s happening. 

Thanks to @snowvitamins, @damselindistressmya, and @stellagibsonisalifeforce, I actually end up on the floor rather than up in the mezzanine. Go big or go home, right? We’re very close to the stage, just two or three rows of people in front of us. Pat, local boy from Watertown (”Wahtahtown” - DD) who’s in the band, opens. There’s a little break to reset the stage, and then the band comes on stage. I have my ear plugs in my hand, ready to go as DD joins them to wild applause. I’m pretty sure I said “ohgodohgodohgod” half under my breath for the first 1-2 songs. But then I realize something. He’s actually...good?...in person. Err, better. But his stage (and floor) presence, enthusiasm, give-no-fucks attitude, and ability to connect with the audience -- sometimes through Intense Eye Contact (TM) -- more than make up for the occasional flawed pitch. I imploded about two thirds of the way through when I experienced Intense Eye Contact (TM) via the Duchovs for the second time that day. It was during the a song that I had definitely never heard. I was listening and our eyes just met and he sang holding his gaze there for more than 10 seconds. It was seriously transformative. While his eye contact while signing said “Who are you?”, this look said “I know who you are.” Truly a religious experience (TM by @kateyes224.) Update three days later: I finally figured out what song this happened during. All I remembered was that the song had “can’t” in it and that one of the words during the Intense Eye Contact (TM) was “love.” After doing some detective work and familiarizing myself with the album, I have determined that it was “Another Day” in which my Intense Eye Contact (TM) occurred, around the end of the first verse and beginning of the first chorus:

Another home Some other love Another guy sent high above Some other lie, we tell ourselves Passing time before the bell

I can't live long enough To bring you around

After this moment that briefly made me believe that romantic love was a possibility for me, he moved on to work another area of the crowd (I saw a review that said he was really an equal-opportunity crowd-worker and I couldn’t agree more, though he won’t engage with you if you are chronically camera phone-ing -- which I love.) I turned around and briefly freaked out to @damselindistressmya​ (”that was directed at me”) before returning my attention to the stage and really getting into singing along with the “Ooh oohs” since I didn’t know any of the other words. Not that I’m biased by that experience or anything, but after listening to the album for a couple days (trying to relive the memories), “Another Day”

My other favorite moment came when David came off the stage onto the floor during one song. We’re all dancing up a storm but @damselindistressmya was closest to the action so I gave her a friendly push into the splash zone and stay on the perimeter (apparently crowd control is a secret talent of mine?) I can’t see what’s going on exactly, but a few seconds later, Mer emerges, walking/dancing/shimmying backwards towards the stage, followed by David, who’s doing the same moves, but facing forward, towards the stage. In other words, they are face to face having a dance-off right in front of me. After a few steps of their impromptu tango, Mer somehow has the wherewithal to peel off to the side gracefully to allow David a path back up on stage. It was seriously a work of art. I'm not sure how Mer survived because I’m still not sure how I did, and I was merely a witness. I can’t draw for shit but I felt the need to produce an artist’s rendering of what unfolded before me (style inspired by @jamofappreciation):

Other concert highlights:

@stellagibsonisalifeforce​ and @snowvitamins​’ love of band member Jeff (that eventually we all got in on.) He did have a great blazer (not quite as awesome as DD’s hooded number though. Good work, Nancy.)

Making new friends between Pat opening and the main event. New friends = Alexa & Scott, I think?

David dedicating a song to band member (and opener) Pat’s grandfather, who was there at 80-something years old. They pointed him out and he stood out and everyone clapped for him. Adorable!

Singing Happy Birthday to band member Colin. We were terribly out of tune. I’d like to think this put DD at ease because he realized we were also pitch-impaired.

David showcasing each of the band members individually during one song (”Sweet Jane,” maybe?), going over to each one individually and putting a hand on their shoulder while they played and just being the sweetest father-figure-esque thing ever

Dad dancing for days. I tried to mirror all his moves. Ended up sweating nearly as much as him and my calves hurt for two days after.

David talking about the best political songs are the ones that aren’t political until they suddenly are / need to be

They recorded the album in Boston and many (all?) of the band members are from Berklee, so it’s special for them

Intro’ing his new song “Half-Life” as “It has science in it”

Boston-accenting “Stars” to “Stahs”

Discussing the merits of traveling by train (very Biden-esque and I loved it)

A lot of sweat. At one point I noticed a bead a sweat drip off his face onto the floor. I wanted to live inside that moment forever.

Full band in pussy hats for the encore

Everyone singing along to “The Weight”

Everyone singing along to the chorus of “Hell or Highwater” (I said I’d love you forever, come hell or highwater / Well, babe the flood’s in)

Lots of genuine gratitude (holding his hand to his chest), especially during the closing “Thank you”

Also got to wave to @thattimetheykissed before the concert and say hi after the concert. Great to meet you! 

Special thanks to @campaignofmisinformation for starting the Sunday night re-watches that brought so many of us together. The entire day was just the embodiment of @ihavefeministbones’ recent A+ character development post. Seriously, we were quoting it at every turn. Thanks to everyone who made this day unexpectedly great! I’m off to sleep for probably three hours and then will wake up thinking this was all a dream. Please pinch me tomorrow (err, later today.) 

[yulicechan]

These past two months have been wild but a complete blessing. To my followers, new and old. Thank you so much for continuing to support my art! <3 You guys are the reason I’m motivated to keep drawing everyday ^_^ Thank you to the skk discord server, for making me laugh and filling my days with such warmth and kindness. I love you all so, so much.  I will continue to work hard for you guys!  がんばります~ (Individual shoutouts below the cut)

Individual shoutouts! Time to scream my love at you guys. This is going to be super long please bear with me... (In no particular order - I’m just following the spreadsheet -) @kyzurya - Kyzu, my precious midnight snack child. How many times have we sent you to French Pun Kitchen already? I wonder why. Also known as: stop taking incriminating screenshots of my conversations and calling me 12  >:(  Your drawings are amazing, especially Yasu-senpai <3!! and your chibis too, so adorable.  @adargo - Cat, my amazing writer and league senpai with the beautiful hair fur (I would kill to see your full Chuuya cosplay) Ahh I can’t wait to read your next fics *excited flailing*. Thank you for listening to me thirst over Fyo and rant about random things. I know we haven’t been playing as much but I’ll try to make more time in the future so we can traverse the depths of EU hell together XD Ophelia - We don’t really talk often, but thank you for being such a wonderful server mom and asking how we are and taking the time to help us with our troubles. You the real MVP ^_^ @ryethe - Emmi... I still can’t believe that I started talking to you. My goodness I’ve admired you for the longest time and and you’re so talented and sweet and omg your existence is a blessing. I really look forward to meeting you at a convention someday!! <3 @kurapls - Kura. My goodness. Do you have any idea how glad I am that I sent you that first message to talk to you about Ruination? AHHHH thank you for spoiling me with all your beautiful writing and oneshots. I don’t think I’ve been inspired as much by anyone as I have by you. Seeing your progress with your drawings, it won’t be long before you take over the world with your art and fics. Please continue to shower us with death and destruction and smut your talents <3 @mostladylikeladythateverladied - Hi Lady! We haven’t talked much but I just wanted to say that to this day, I still read that small oneshot you wrote for my art and scream to myself because it’s so perfect. As are the rest of your fics. Thank you again! @atarix - Anna!! Japanese senpai!!!! Also the only pure child of mine!! Thank you for helping me with translations all the time, you’re a real savior.  ;-; Ahh I’m quite concerned for your health atm, please take care of yourself and feel better >_< And good luck on all the events that are coming up for you! がんばって！ @miss-intention - Weng Qi, you literal prodigy. Your art and coloring never fails to amaze me. Thanks for being my chingchong squad companion and screaming about dead Break Pandora Hearts AU with me. May you be blessed with more beheadings in the future. @cinnamondazai - Albel, my lovely fyoya companion~ Thank you for spoiling me with your fics. I can’t wait to see more of your writing! By the way, please don’t think I would ever be bothered by you, I am always happy to talk to you ^_^ @onikushita - Oni! I saw you finally got a drawing tablet! I’m super excited to see what you’ll make in the future :D @ask-fancy-hat-chuuya - CHeeeeeeeeeeese my cute chibi drawing senpai~~~ Ahhhh I’m so excited to hopefully meet you next year, fingers crossed. Please continue to make cute art that I can rub all over my face and scream at <3 @myboynagito - WAIFUUUUU *launches myself at you* I’m so freaking happy I met you, you have no idea omgasldfjajewjfal Thank you for betaing my drawings all the time and ahhhh I love your art so much. I can’t wait to see Kouyou tarot!!! One day I’ll expand my French vocab to include more than 2 words so I can properly seduce you in French ;) I love you!!! <3333 @tykilavi - Ju, you’re so sweet and omg I wasn’t able to stay on your stream the whole time but I’m sure your drawing was beautiful just like everything else I’ve seen :) Please stream more! I’d love to watch hehe @arcticzuko - Vines, I will always remember and love you for that quote LOL <3 @curiouscat99 - Cat, owner of the angst chat, thank you for your angsty and inspiring theories. I know I can always count on you if I need a good dose of the Sads. Please have mercy on our poor hearts and on Chuuya and Dazai XD @insoukokuhell - Dianaaaa <33 I’ll always appreciate your memes and your selfies (you are very cute btw no matter how much u try to deny it :P)  @kiimone - Ami! I’ve always believed the people who can both write and draw are the coolest type of people. And you definitely fit into that category omg I love your art style so much. p.s. Thanks for being a good parent to Borb and thanks for letting me have her on Wednesdays :P  @soukoku-writes - Borb, *swallows all the insults that are just coming to mind* *ahem*. Borb, what happened you used to be so sweet and call me Satan senpai and you were so cute and WHAT HAPPENED OMG how could my parenting have gone so wrong. Lol but in all seriousness, thank you for providing your quality memes and insults, I know that I’ll always laugh my ass off when you and waifu are yelling at each other. And also, your writing is so advanced for your age. I know I give you shit for never finishing anything, but honestly, please take all the time you need lol. Good work isn’t rushed, and just know that I’ll love reading anything you write, WIP or not. Love you, biscuitshingle <3 @chvvva - Nics, I know I’ve told you this countless times already but your writing is pure art and it’s extremely fascinating to see you tie these words up so eloquently. I look forward to seeing more of your works! <3 @ch-ch-ch-chuuya - Rose, you angst queen. I’ll never forget the night I rolled around in my bed silently screaming at 2 am after reading your Kiznaiver AU. I’m sooo excited for your current work as well AHHH and I see you posting previews in the fic channel all the time and all the positive feedback so I’m sure it’ll be amazing. I usually don’t read previews if I know it’s going to be published in full on Ao3, but I can’t wait to read the whole thing ^_^ Please kill me with the feels.  @onelovelysin - Your art is so good. SO GOOD. Please teach me your ways. And you have a whole webcomic and you draw so fast and LWKEFJASLKDJAS senpai please continue to bless us with your talent <3 @star-tear - celestial NACLH2O, aksdj you’re so sweet and nice and you need to draw more often omg I loved your camellia drawing so much!! Thank you for continuing to love me even though I’m NoLongerPure(tm) @carlynagisa - Carly, ahh your fics are absolutely amazing and your cosplays too I fangirl so much whenever I see your new content :D @rosengoddess - Brina, thank you for writing me fyoya all the time ahh <3 I love reading your tiny writing snippets on twitter ^_^ Kami - please continue to supply us with your cute Poe drawings and Chuuya memes and omg just your drawings in general are amazing. And thank you for streaming it’s always super enjoyable to watch :) @karmajestic-kuroo - Kuroooo I LOVE YOUR FICS SO MUCH DO U HAVE ANY IDEA like I usually don’t search out authors and message them unless they really leave an impact on me but I seem to do that all the time for your fics which just says how much I love them. I get so happy whenever I see new fics from you on ao3, please continue to bless us with your writing!  *stretches* finally done Thank you everyone for talking to me and being my friend and inspiring me everyday. I love you guys <333333

[moonraccoon-exe]

Hi Moon! I'm glad to hear that Rime is such a cool game, I will definitely have to check it out! c: The orange cranberry bars were my favourite (from your previous question), and I'm now in a volcano in Ni No Kuni. :o I loved the newest chapter of Ignis and the Beast, I followed your recommendation of listening with the music playing and it made it that much more magical.

GASPS

IRIDAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

*THROWS SELF AT YOU AND STAYS HUGGED TO YOUR HEAD*

SMOOCH

FLOUR IT U!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG OMG OMG FLOUR IT U AAAHHHHH LOOK AT YOURSELF YOU’RE BACK YOU’RE HERE AND I’M SO HAPPY AOKSDJ KGJ ALKGJ ADGKADJ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

*BOUNCES ALL ACROSS THE ROOM*

HEWWO IRIDAE!!!!!!!!!!! I’M SO SO SO SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HAPPY TO GET TO BE REPLYING TO YOU AGAIN ZOMG HELLO!!!!! ( ˙꒳​˙ )

“I’m glad to hear that Rime-”

*CLUTCHES CHEST*

HNGNGGHGH. 

*cOLLAPSES AND CURLS UP TO START CRYING*

THE MERE TITLE REMINDS ME OF IT AND I GET ALL THE FEELS, AAAAAHHHH FAHK SOMEBODY HALP ME AKSJD AKGJ AKLGJ

It is a fantastic game, yes!! Maybe it leaves you with the sensation of “What? Did I beat it so fast!? Noooo, isn’t there more!?” and the puzzles aren’t really a difficult challenge, so I’d suggest to not look at it from the game critic perspective, but rather from the visual and auditive art, and story wise. That’s how Rime is meant to be enjoyed, I think. Puzzles good enough to be entertaining (and a couple that do require of more brain), but mostly a delight for the eyes, the ears, and the feels. So, easy and short as it is, I’d still recommend it so much!!! :D

If you do get it, you will share your thoughts with me, right? Perhaps you can even see some sort of similarity with XV with the characters, who knows? But really, I’ve love to hear your thoughts if you ever get it!! :3

(lemme add a keep reading right here, buddy c: )

ORANGE CRANBERRY BARS SOUNDS TAAAAAAAAAAAAAASTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH AKSLDJ SAKLHJALKG AJDLKFADJGAKLGJADLGAJ 

Good to know that you had a favorite and that those bars turned out so delicious! AAAHHH NOW I’M HUNGRY! ( ˙꒳​˙ )

GASPS

A VOLCANO!?!?! IN NI NO KUNI!?!?!? ZOMG THAT’S A BIT OF A CHALLENGE TO IMAGINE. In the playthrough I watched I only got to the city (I vaguely remember so I can’t put a name to it. I think it was the capital of the kingdom? Lots of kitty people and beautiful buildings! w

Betcha it’s INCREDIBLE, though, and that you’ve found new stuff and amazing bosses aaaaaaahhhhhhh. Volcano/lava/fire levels can’t be missing in a good classic, boy, YOU MUST BE HAVING SUCH A BLAST! Omg no pun intended, if there’s an accidental pun with ‘blast’ lmao alsdjlgk Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh, keep having lots and lots of fun with such a gorgeous game, Flour!!! o(>ω

AKSFGAD

*CHOKES*

ASKFJGD KLHDJKLF JDAKLGJ AKLDFJ ADKLG JAKLFJ DAKLGH ADJLKJD GKAHDLJ KLAGJ AKD

*BURSTS INTO FIRE*

*SHRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK*

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

IRIDAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EVERY TIME YOU MENTION IGGY AND THE BEAST I FREAK OUT AND I’M A MESS I’M ALL FLAIL FLAIL FLAIL ON THE GROUND WHILE SCREECHING AND ON FIRE BECAUSE ZOMG YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW SPECIAL THAT FIC IS TO ME AND HOW IMPORTANT AND THE FACT THAT YOU TALK ABOUT IT REALLY REALLY REALLY MAKES ME SO HAPPY AND MAKES ME SMILE SO MUCH I’VE RE READ YOUR ASK A COUPLE TIMES AND I STILL FREAK OUT AND GO AKLSDJFLAKDGJAKLWHEN I GET TO YOU TALKING ABOUT THE LATEST OF IGGY ANDT HE BEAST AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

*HUG-SQUEEZES U*

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FLOUR THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!

I CAN’T BEGIN DESCRIBING HOW HAPPY YOUR COMMENT MADE ME AKSJD FLKDHJ OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH, THANK YOU FOR READING THE LATEST CHAPTER, THANK YOU FOR TAKING THE TIME TO WRITE A COMMENT, THANK YOU FOR SAYING SUCH BEAUTIFUL THINGS, AAAHHHH, IRIDAE, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING, THANK YOU!!!! ;A;

I’m SO, SO, SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HAPPY that you liked the newest chapter!!! I’ve been meaning to write it for so long and I was so excited when I finally got to write it! It sadly didn’t get the feedback/reactions I expected, and that really adds a lot to how much it means to me that you did like it and adds a lot to how much your comments mean to me, buddy. I really can’t describe it. Thank you so much, wholeheartedly :’)

Thank you immensely and wholeheartedly as well for listening to the recommendation while reading it!!! I know how much of an ‘UGH’ sensation it can be sometimes when people recommend a background song that you don’t know forehand, and how most people just skip it and keep going with their own choices, and that’s okay. But it really means a lot to me that you did listen to it, because it was not just “I think this song suits this chapter”, it was “this chapter was BORN thanks to this song” so it really almost goes hand in hand.

Thank you so much for reaching out of your comfort zone and checking out the song, Iridae. You truly are one of my best supporters and readers and I don’t know how to thank you enough for it…. :’)

I’m very, very, SO damn happy to know that you think the song added magic to the chapter. I was really hoping so!!! Aaahhhh, thank you so much, there was nothing more that I wanted to capture in this specific chapter than this magical, ethereal, dreamy aura, like a happy moment where you or the characters sorta float. I’m not sure how the others captured it, but the fact taht in your comment you used both the words ‘magical’ and ‘dreamy’ really, really, really, really, BIG REALLY means a whole galaxy to me!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN’T THANK YOU ENOUGH AKSDJ FLGKJA DKLJ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Thank you so much, Flour!!!! It makes me so insanely, hysterically happy that you thought of the chapter in such a beautiful way aaaaaaaaahhhhh thank you so mUCH ASDJADLÑGHAFÑLHKAFLGÑK

“It had a lovely dreamy quality to it” is possibly one of the best comments I’ve ever received, mostly because I think I really was craving for it but in this speccific chapter. As I told you, that’s literally all that I was trying to capture in the chapter. So that you said so, fuck, IT HITS ME RIGHT IN THE CORE OF MY HEART AND I DON’T KNOW HOW TO STRESS IT ENOUGH AKSDJ FAKGJ DKALJGA DLKGA JADJLKAD

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Iridae, you’ve made me SO INSANELY, IMMENSELY, WHOLEHEARTEDLY HAPPY YOU HAVE NO IDEA AND I HAVE NO WAY TO TELL YOU AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ASKLDJFG KAJD GKDALGJ ADKLGJ ADKHDAJLG J ;A;

*CRIES*

Thank you so, so, so much, buddy. Thank you for writing a comment about it, and thank you for making it so sweet and so beautiful. It touches my heart that you say all those wonderful things. This fic is so special and important to me, and that you liked the chapter and you think of it as having a bit of a dreamy air really touches my little raccoonie heart ;A;

Thank you so much, Flour. Thank you for this beautiful, most fantastic support you’ve given me for this fic. I really appreciate and treasure it more than I can say. Thank you :’)

*is still crying but pretends not to*

IRIDAE.

FLOUR.

MY SWEET PRECIOUS MOST ADORABLE MUFFIN, CREATURE MADE OF STARDUST AND BEAUTY, YOU GORGEOUS AND KINDHEARTED HOOMAN

Thank you again :’)

Not just for the Beauty and the Beast comment, but for dropping by to say hello!!! That means even more to me. Your presence is a joy, and eacch time I get to reply to you is an honor for me. Thank you for saying hello and for telling me what’s been up!!! :3

I HOPE TO HEAR FROM YOU SOON AGAIN, BUDDY!!!

Thanks for dropping by, my dear friend!! I hope you’re having a MOST FANTASTIC DAY OR NIGHT!!! LOTS OF RACCOONIE HUGS TO YOU!!! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡