#ah alvin

[toasts-httyd-hyperfixation]

Consider...... Rasputin style song but about Alvin

Edit: reblogs turned off on this guy cause its bugged out on my end and fucks with the rest of my stuff

[incorrect-aatc]

Alvin: I have a 1:30 appointment.

Secretary: Which doctor?

Alvin: No, never again… I want the regular doctor.

[leguin]

“’I am sitting in a room’ exploits the resonant frequencies of whatever room it is that he’s sitting in, and through a process of iterative feedback amplifies those frequencies until the sound that remains is very difficult to interpret as speech.”

“Is what we’re listening to the result of creative control on his part? Is it the result of a kind of weirdly alien, inhuman emanation from within what we take to be a normal human body?”

[sammichbread]

once again thinking about the time the dsv alvin (among the first of its class of submersibles) got stabbed by a fucking swordfish on one of its dives, causing them to have to surface (WITH THE FISH STILL STUCK IN ITS HULL) where they REMOVED THE FISH AND ATE IT FOR DINNER

[deadsetobsessions]

Fae adjacent! Danny, pt. 3

Jason returns to consciousness with a scream trapped before it could come to life. He twisted his neck back and forth and back and forth.

It was the last thing he did before he died. When the Joker left and told him to say hello to the big guy, Jason could not muster up the energy to make a single sound.

But Bruce… Bruce was here this time, heavy head making the mattress by his leg dip.

The scars that ran over his face stretched as he blinked.

“…B?”

Bruce’s head shot up, eyes bloodshot and bags heavier than a Gotham socialite’s solid gold Dior purse.

“Jaylad.”

Jason- Jason was alive now. Bruce’s hug felt warm, the tear spot on his shoulder was damp as his dad cried while hugging him.

And Jason should be happy. He’s alive again. His dad loved him.

But all he could think about was the cold of the coffin, the squelch of mud and dirt, and the unerringly wrong feeling of knowing he came back but he came back wrong.

——

Tim had wandered Gotham in the weeks following Jason’s reawakening. He wasn’t avoiding Bruce Wayne. He wasn’t. But Tim knows he’ll have to answer questions soon. He just wasn’t ready.

Tim looked up at the den of pixies- pixies were real!- and squared his shoulders. He did his research. Tim Drake walks into the den with nothing but foolish hope and Gotham-brand audacity. He’ll get answers about Danny today. He will.

——

Soul-Plucker, they called him. Danny Fenton, the proprietor of Fenton Artifacts. The High King.

“I thought King Oberon was the High King?”

The pixies chittered at the little human that could have been kin. Their wings fluttered at their backs, muffled by cloth. It’s not often they find kindred. It really is too bad that Fenton had his mark on the child. How they would have loved to whisk him away. He would have made entertainment that would last a millennia! Or until the court decided to cut of his tongue, at least. How well he had tricked them!

“Of course! Of course! King Oberon is our king, see?” A younger pixie swirled her drink, a shining red and blue thing. “But he’s the High King of another court!”

“The High King of the Infinite Realms, encompassing far more than King Oberon and Queen Tatianna could ever reach.”

Another pixie chimed in, on their fourth glass of amber colored nectar. “The Soul-Plucker!”

“The Beginning of the End.”

“Afterlife IRS department!”

“He who wanders.”

“Death-Caller.” Another one said, grave and serious.

“The Arbiter.”

“So, he’s like, the boss of bosses?” Tim asked. What kind of entity did he make a deal with? Why was he kind to Tim? What motives did Danny have?

“Uh huh!”

“Then what’s he’s doing here?”

“Who knows? The whims of the most powerful are unknown to us.” The pixies clustered around Tim. “Won’t you play another game with us, Alvin? You’re so good at it! Oh, how about a drink?”

“Can’t. I gotta get home. Also, I’m a minor.” Tim slipped passed their fluttering wings and manic smiles. They move to let him past, waving drinks at him in a tantalizing manner.

“And where is that, sweet one?”

“Somewhere, Liltri. Somewhere.”

Tim Drake was a child of pure will, pure hard headed foolishness, a mind sharper than any blade, and luck more terrifying than the creatures he now dealt with. And so, he stepped out of the Pixie Bar with more questions than answers but he stepped out unharmed.

——

“Who are you?” The shadows shift as Lady Gotham unveiled her knight.

Danny felt his eyes cool, glinting green and blue. Lady Gotham forgets who her liege is.

“Haven’t you done your research? You who walks along the edge of shadows, my shop is not a place to dismiss decorum.”

“You brought… you brought him back. How. Why?”

“You want answers? Then give me something in return.”

Danny gestured to the circle his clients have come to know as the deal-maker. Danny doesn’t ask for much in return. Just… something equal to the request.

“Ah,” Danny pointed up at the sign. “I am legally able to deny you my service, so don’t get any ideas.”

Batman was studied up on myths. But he was not a believer, and that both hindered and helped him. What was a god, in front of the faithless? What was the faithless in front of power?

The vigilante stepped into the circle, unable to see the subtle shimmering of magic but remained unbound by the virtue of his disbelief.

“What do you want for answers?”

“You do not often deal with the occult, do you?” Danny tapped the counter. Batman remained silent.

“I have a soft spot for vigilantes,” Danny continued. “And so I won’t ask for much. Just… your cape.”

“Not my hair? A body part?”

“If you were dealing with the fae, you’d probably would lose something of that value, yes.”

“You aren’t fae.”

Danny merely smiled. “Do we have a deal?”

“My cape in exchange for honest answers to my questions.”

Danny huffed, approval glinting in his eyes.

“Your cape for honest answers to three questions,” Danny pointed at the sign, still hanging above them. “Three questions or nothing.”

Batman grimaced. “Deal.”

“Ask your questions, protector.”

“Why did you bring Jason back to life?”

“I didn’t.” Danny grinned. The Bat should have stipulated that he must answer elaborately. He looked like he realized that. Oh well. His mistake. Well, not like there was actual magic binding Danny, so technically, Danny could lie off his ass.

“…Will Jason stay alive?” Danny had a heart and this man was a much better father than Jack ever was.

“Yes. Barring unnatural causes, his soul is firmly attached to his body and will not shuffle off the mortal coil without warning.”

The lines of Batman’s shoulders slumped. Relief. He paused.

“What are your intentions in this city?”

“To run my shop… and to enjoy retirement.”

Danny laughed at Batman’s stoic face. “Disappointed I am not up to nefarious deeds, little knight?”

“No.”

Danny tapped the table. “My payment?”

Batman shucked off his cape and handed it to Danny.

“Why my cape?”

Danny smiled a fanged little thing. “Because your costume looks stupid without it and I could use a laugh.”

Batman grumbled and turned to leave. Ha paused, eyes catching on the glint of camera lenses.

“How much for that?”

“For the little sparrow’s camera?” Danny sighed, eyes fixed on the form of a vigilante who was more kind than angry for once. “Two thousand dollars.”

“That’s a huge markup.”

“That’s how much it means to me, compared to the rest.” Danny slid beyond the counter, a ghostly air about him. He pinned his newly earned cape up. “My shop, my prices, little knight.”

Batman silently handed him two thousand dollars and left with the little sparrow’s camera.

[puppetmaster13u]

So I am rotating the batfamily, but not like, civilian or vigilante. I am slowly rotating them all having a Malone-sona of sorts that is their in to organized crime.

Like you can't tell me people wouldn't start noticing this family that the bats, the literal cryptids and monsters of Gotham, don't even touch and lets continue to operate despite taking the older crime families apart.

And to Gotham that screams power.

Alfred = Albert “Old Al” Malone I wanna say that he doesn't go out as 'Old Al' often, but gives off Godfather sort of vibes. Usually sitting there with an old cane (that definitely has a sword, they're all dramatic like that lol) half in the dark with a cup of tea or other drink. He gets to stretch his acting skills and honestly the kids definitely had a say in the persona. Old Al is something they all made together and they have fun implying so much fun shit.

Kate = Mary “Madam” Malone She definitely gives off 'snap your spine over her knee if not for the fact it would get your blood all over her clothes' vibes. Stylized nails, hair up in fishtail braids or ponytails or whatever, looks like she could tear out ones throat and they'd thank her. It's a running gag that she's in finances, even if no one in the underbelly believes it.

Bruce = “Matches” Malone I mean, it's classic Matches (though most probably assume that Matches isn't his real name) who seems rather chill until someone breaks the rules. Gives off vibes that he doesn't usually get his own hands dirty but will do so to make a point, and enjoy doing it. He sometimes uses Matches to check in on places he can't as a shadowy cryptid, and it's not like the lower income areas would fully trust Brucie Wayne.

Barbara = Madison “Maddie” Malone Now let's be honest, Barbara enjoys messing with people, she enjoys knowing every little thing as Oracle, and she definitely does that as Maddie. The thing is, no one knows how she learns about things, other criminals search for a traitor, for a leak, for anything, and get nothing. Which is utterly terrifying. Because there has to be some sort of information network, there has to be. And somehow they're so good that they're indistinguishable to any others.

Dick = Micheal “Mikey” Malone Honestly Dick uses this chance to get into a bunch of fights just for fun. Flirts a bit more freely but doesn't really have an interest in actually getting with someone. Just has funs and is known for throwing his own parties that usually end in free-for-all brawls. He absolutely loves being able to have parties that are the opposite of galas he's usually dragged into.

Cass = Molly Malone She's quiet and graceful, but she takes it to unnerving levels as Molly. Looks slim but carries guns on her at all time to better differentiate between Cassandra Wayne, Black Bat, and Molly Malone. Everyone knows if you need a weapon, guns, meelee, whatever, she's the one you go to. Gotham help you if you cross her though.

Jason = Peter “Petey” Malone Where Molly Malone goes, everyone knows Petey will be there as well. Jason absolutely adores the time he gets to do so, it's his turn to be silent and dramatic. Everyone can recognize the jagged scar over his neck, they can recognize it from corpses the Bats have gotten their talons on. Honestly he's delighted in being able to be Cass' enforcer of sorts and just have a good fight. Even if he complains about how making his Malone mute makes it where he can't quote Shakespeare like he wants to.

Steph = “Mia” Malone Ah yes, the explosive Malone. The one who has more arson charges than Firefly. Or at least she would if she was caught, but the entire Underbelly knows it was her. Steph is living her best life being able to pull all sorts of pranks and crazy shit and takes several ideas from Harley. Honestly she probably smells like gasoline or smoke all the time, and definitely put glitter in her hair. Maybe even has red hair as a Malone as well.

Tim = Alvin “Al” Malone He still goes by Alvin Draper too, which results in half the underbelly thinking that Draper is his middle name. Honestly he's having the best time, everyone knows to come to him for forgeries and less than legal identities, which he loves to create. I mean just look at how many new identities he creates for himself alone. He enjoys this type of thing, and hey, it's so easy to keep track of whose identity is fake when you're the one who made them. Plus it also lets him do good for those on the run for good reasons, a way to make sure people are safe.

Duke = Dennis “Denny” Malone Everyone knows Denny was adopted, but y'know what, I bet they don't care. And you know Duke is utterly insane, like jump off a bridge to escape the cops and create the We are Robin gang insane. And he gets to play that up as Denny. He will put forth the most batshit ideas and actually pull them off. I bet he uses his future-sight to cheat at different games and pool tables and all sorts of things, but no one can ever prove it. Because there is no proof, and the other people playing just has to deal with it.

Damian = “Mini M” Malone The little baby of the family, who everyone knows the older Malones absolutely dote over. This is his chance to act like an actual child, just with a hint of art theft. Hey, it wasn't like they got it legally either, so it's free game, especially if they weren't taking proper care of the art or a pet. He's just pleased to get to have even more pets, and that Goliath his demon dragon-bat gets to go on walkies.

Jarro = Jadan “Lil J” Malone Now Jarro is delighted to have a third mech, and is even more delighted for people to believe Damian (or technically M jr) and him are twins. Gives off someone is going to die- of fun with Mini M, and honestly enjoys being able to use his natural telepathy to be a small horror movie child that knows too much. Like will stare up at someone with wide eyes covered in blood and the others in Gotham's underbelly still aren't sure if the blood was his or someone elses. (it was neither)

================================================

Honestly I might write a oneshot or something for the Cryptid Batfam focusing on just them as the Malones family.

[lowkeyrobin]

MCYT with an S/O who fosters kittens? :D

OH MY LORD YESYESYESHDNSKDNDN I had sm inspo w this bc I have 5 cats (cats are one of my favorite things ever I swear) and yeah dkkdkd THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST

MCYT ; you foster kittens

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, foolish gamers, & slimecicle

warnings ; language, talk of harm towards animals

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

genuinely feels so bad when you have to let the cats go

like he tears up nearly every fucking time

he watches some of these poor cats go from aggressive and distant, barely able to eat because they don't trust you yet, to warm, loving and cuddly little creatures

he literally watches them grow and he gets so emotional cause like why can't you keep all of them???

he'll be off to the side when you're handing them away to a new home wiping his tears

he's more emotional about it than you

he gifts you like new cat food bowls and cat towers and stuff once they get all beaten to a pulp

if you're fostering more than like three at a time, he'll have a gang of them on his lap while he's editing, recording, or lounging around

his hands are always covered in scratches and scars because he'll fuck around and find out even after you warn him about them being feisty at first

"this one got ran over by a car and he's blind now"

"can we keep him?? :("

RANBOO

like tubbo, it warms his heart to see you care so much about the poor babies that just need a little help readjusting and understanding that not all people are bad/you're there to help them

absolutely loves when you bring back like little feisty babies that barely know how to walk but know how to hiss

they can't help but laugh like "awe oh my god, this is so sad but it's so cute"

when I tell you all those cats are so spoiled by them

it's sweet though, he really cares about all the cats you take in too, you honestly foster them together at this point

you guys end up keeping this tuxedo cat with one eye and name it Jellyfish (as per chats vote)

the amount of fanart of you two with jellyfish 💔💔💔 so cute

jellyfish becomes the mom of all the new fosters and looks over them and shit, that way they ease into the new environment a little better

buys all the fosters outfits. there's a barbie sized closet for all the clothes

FREDDIE BADLINU

it's like there's a new cat every week considering he brings back street cats as well LMAO

these mf cats are SO SPOILED but they deserve it

he gets so attached to the disabled ones because he loves having to help them out

he loves teaching them how to eat from his hands too

it's so funny, like they'll nick his fingers and he'll be like "fuck, that tickles, Mr. Peanut!"

gets so emotional when you have to give them to better homes

like hugs and kisses them goodbye 4 times

he genuinely thinks your magic, watches those cats go from shy and trying to stay away from you to like being attached to you by the hip and all wagging their tails

he's constantly running around the house playing with them too

he loves seeing them pop up on 2 legs like meerkats when he's serving them wet food or treats LMAO

NIKI NIHACHU

she couldn't care less that the house is loaded with cat stuff and a whole room is filled with cat towers, shelves and toys for them

loves making new little puzzles/mazes for the cats with the shelves, making a little competition to see who can get to the top fastest

she names the cats because she's gonna get attached either way, but after a while they become more and more silly

like they go from Sebastian and Pixel to Tater Tot and Simon From Alvin And The Chipmunks so quickly

she learns how to make homemade cat treats as well

she also, like ranboo, gets a little barbie closet and fills it with cat outfits

some cats like the outfits and others don't, but the ones who do, good god it's like britney manson on the runway

absolute ws in that house, photoshoots for days

QUACKITY

"AH WHAT THE FUCK? Y/n! come get Jessie and Walter, they've invaded my stream!"

he genuinely names most the foster cats characters from meme shows/movies/memes in general

actually named one Badass Grandmas Meme ; also named another Hurricane Tortilla after that one vine

always taking .5s of the cats once they've accepted that he exists as well

sometimes they hop on his desk and join the stream

"Oh, look! it's Goldfish, she's the newest foster that y/n took in"

constantly taking pictures of you and the fosters throughout the stages of rehabilitation

from hissing and scratching to cuddling on the couch and lazy naps

no cat leaves without a little pair of sunglasses

he's genuinely inspired to make quackity cat merch because most of the fosters you take in LOVE clothes LMAO

FOOLISH GAMERS

literally treats these mfs as babies

you'll walk in and see him holding one of the elderly cats you're rehabiliting from a bad home whom just got rescued and he's holding this poor girl like a literal infant

she loves it though, most the cats do

the fosters love playing with his hair too, and he plays into it, always bends down to their level and wobbles his hair around for them to smack around and try to chew on

he has such a soft spot for them

if you're having one of those rare moments where you might give up on a cat, he's right there to try and help you

flea baths on kittens are always done by him, he feels so bad for each of them, meanwhile you're on cat-drying duty and giving them a lil medication to kill any remaining fleas

he's 50/50 on names at first but gives up with trying to not name them bc he gets attached anyways

"Oh, lookit! this is Evergreen, she's been chilling with us for like, 3 months I think"

he loves when they interrupt his streams bc they're so cute and explorative and curious LMAO

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

he's the most supportive of you fostering cats like ever

loves fucking around with them and sliding them around on the floor, if there's any long hair cats, he loops very loose bows and clips around their fur and shit

cradles them like babies to sleep

and then slips them into the cat tower or on the couch/bed etc

even covers them with a little blanket

"Oh shit, they've invaded, they're raiding! the axe weilding brothers are here!"

gives them the most dumbass names like Microwave Popcorn and Toaster Strudle

he frames pictures of every cat in the hallway once they leave

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

hello! i have a request for 'SbITILYP', if you don't mind. how about the reader trying to do something for hiccup to impress him/show him that she likes him? hiccup has been doing a lot of things for the reader so I think it'd be cute seeing the reader awkwardly attempt to do the same :)

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 28

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1110

Things come to a simple end.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, final part, half-fill

<Previous - First>

“I’m surprised it went this smooth,” Stoick grumbled, voice hollow with distance, “With Alvin-... I’d expect something from Hiccup, at least. That boy…”

“He’s ‘Too busy, eh?” Gobber asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, grunting and hopping as he did it, reattaching his prosthetic to his leg nub, “Prolly been off mackin’ on tha’ girlfriend o’ his.”

Right… Alvin.

“Ah,” Hiccup was flushed, rubbing his neck and brushing against already messy hair, “Yeah, I forgot about that…”

Toothless was around somewhere.

He glanced to the side, where you stood, equally embarrassed and mussed, shoulders hunched slightly, very red in the face.

You shifted in your skirts, resisting the urge to use your boot to scratch at the back of your thigh, which had been itchy for a little while, since you brushed up against some plant walking back from the forest.

You were just around the corner from Hiccup’s Dad -a bright and heavily painted corner; turns out his whole ‘painting the houses’ thing caught on, which meant a lot less of things burning down- though he wasn’t sure if you’d heard.

All the talk of criminal executions was depressing, though you missed it, lost in the puppy-love haze phase of your new relationship. Still, it was kind of a bummer. It was for the best that Alvin was gone, though. Less danger in that for you too -not just the riders or Stoick or anything else.

You hoped it didn’t bum Hiccup out too bad. You noticed it had been getting him down, and you’d done your best.

Your fingers curled together, hooked securely and delicately to his by the fingerpads, and you and Hiccup stood close enough that you could feel his body heat through his tunic though not yet enough for the two of you to be touching by the arm.

You’d just gotten back from a successful trip to the glowing algae pool.

His vest was slightly displaced and you were both sure he’d lost a bead or two.

In one hand you held the little Fireworm, wrapped in a carefully made chainmail blanket -it was hard to come up with something that wouldn’t pinch skin or scales- also wrapped in a layer of leather so that you could hold it comfortably. 

It squirmed slightly. 

He scuffed his prosthetic slightly, recently oiled, recently reforged with treads beaten into the bottom, which did a lot to help with gripping wet wood while you were walking hand-in-hand around Berk.

You wore a red tunic -his, really, he’d lent it to you again after you’d gotten some muck on yours- and a string of your own beads on leather cord tied around your neck, something Hiccup had picked nonchalantly from the forge and used to help make you a necklace. 

He’d tried to make you a bead once, but he wasn’t much of an artisan. 

“I mean, me too,” You huffed, feather swaying as you shifted, attached to a stick like a pom-pom on one end of a cat toy, “We’ve been busy with other things, though- Not like what Gobber said- I mean, you know…”

Hiccup nodded, though he was still looking forward. This was all still super new for the both of you.

 It would feel that way for a while.

You were still in disbelief- it was a wonder to you why he and Astrid didn’t pair up before. 

He traced the collar of his scarf slightly as Sharpshot lolled lazily by your feet, slightly wet and glow-ey by his lower half whenever he teased the shade with his tail. 

You knew Hiccup was bummed Devastated that the Screaming Death had destroyed all his hard work -a good deal of the things he’d built up in the village for you, though with some hard work and dirt pushed under your fingernails it had been fixed up pretty easy.

He seemed happier now. It hadn’t really been something you’d planned but you’d distracted him somewhat- your relationship was still very, very new, still.

And you made him a gift.

You’d tried crafting again. It was very scratchy and you’d definitely not done a very good job making sure the whole thing was even but it was a nice fading rainbow, the yarn dyed in all the colors in Roy G. Biv in darker, neutral tones.

“Looks like you fixed things right up, ‘Dragon Master,’” You stuck out your tongue at him, looking smug.

It -the scarf- covered the bottom of Hiccup’s chin. It didn’t really fit him but he wore it with pride, which made something flutter around in your guts in a way that was almost uncomfortable.

You predicted it would be around a week before he took it off.

Hiccup had unintentionally returned the favor. You got a satchel from him, small and attached to a belt with norse knots imprinted around the edges, sown neatly together. It was sort of like a fanny pack but with more buckles and also cool.

“Did you really have to use that?” Hiccup said, leaning his head towards you momentarily.

Sharpshot churr-ed in the squawky squeaky way only a terror could, blinking up at the feather attached to your hip as you adjusted your hand in Hiccup’s.

The small Fireworm in your other hand blinked beadily as it sometimes very rarely did.

“It is tacky,” You admitted, though that was definitely why you used it, “But you did a good enough job to deserve it, not that you have to do anything to deserve things.”

You gently bumped into him with your hip.

And he did a great job. Berk was back to how it was just before the Screaming Death -most of the roses ended up being fine, and the plants that were lost were easily replaced and reinforced by spiked metal fences and wooden pikes.

You’d also added a few new planters. Many of the houses stationed under ramps were popular real estate now for metal tins for glowing mushroom growing, which you knew there many new homeowners were proud of, not just because of the fact that it made them a lot of money.

The mushrooms were great for paint making and the extra roofing kept dragons from jumping over houses and messing with tiling.

It was heavy maintenance, but they were all Vikings. For a modern girl like you, you found it was all worth it, if not just for the convenience.

Living on Berk was rough, but it was good and different now. Even with all the Outcasts and the dragons and the hunters and everything else missing.

And you were happy. 

And maybe Hiccup’s crush hadn’t ended up being so onesided after all.

[ducktracy]

i am very averse to "look at how much this thing sucks. let me shove said sucky thing in your face and laugh at how it sucks and cultivate an environment of suckiness" posting but the reaction to this i'm having is so severe and making my head explode that i have to share it. likewise because it doubles as an excuse to post a Good Thing alongside with it.

i just stumbled upon the Alvin's Harmonica segment from The Alvin Show and I LOVE ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT IT'S SO CUTE AND CHARMING. i like that Alvin tortures Dave even in his subconscious like some sort of horrible inverse of Jiminy Cricket. love the layout work and everything about this is extremely charming

and so now, having instilled that Goodness into your brains, i now ask you to look at this instead which got recommended to me. WHAT DID THEY DOOOOOOOOOOO TO THEMMMMMMMMMMMMM. THIS IS MAKING MY SKIN CRAWL. WHY DO THEY SOUND LIKE THAT. WHY ARE SIMON AND THEODORE MAD, IN THE ORIGINAL THEY ARE GLEEFULLY COMPLACENT IN ALVIN'S ANTICS AS THEY SHOULD BE. AH!!!!!! AND THE RAPPING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! seriously making my skin crawl i'm going to sob

i. oh my goodness. for the record i am not Genuinely outraged at this Good Chipmunk Erasure because that would be even more stupid than the above clip. but this just elicited such a violently bewildered and shocked reaction out of me and appeals perfectly to my cartoon masochism in that i absolutely eat up stuff that makes me go "WTF" that i had to share. this is making me hyper from how. whatever this is. i hate it and its existence is so funny to me #NOTMYALVIN

[teresalace]

"I won't cry for you" - Yandere Tyler Galpin x Female Reader PART 3

•Part 1 •Part 2

Words: 1699

Warnings: Mentions of torture, psychology, dysfunction yet healthy family relations if you squint.

Show: Wednesday (2022)

Summary: You've graciously or stupidly, granted Tyler a phone to call his father for whatever reason he had while you went to call yours for assistance. And since you weren't fully knowledgeable about Hydes, you contacted the only person you knew, who wasn't in prison, that had that knowledge. Your father, Alvin Gates.

• •

🥺 Sorryyyy this took forever a lot of months, planned to post this at February but got sick and many stuff happened, preparing for an interview :--D but am back in my writing mojo!/kinda, HAPPY HALLOWEEN) AND I HEARD season 2 is coming omggg I'm excited

————

"Well, well, well~ If it isn't the sweet consequence of my actions with your mother." A voice unmistakably grouchy speaks, sounding jovial with every word out.

A quick glance to your locked bedroom door before you finally said a response into the cellphone.

"You sound well, father." You mildly greeted, a tinge of a smile in your voice. To think it's almost only been a month since the last call.

"Yeah yeah it's been a while but cut the chitchat, sweetie, what do you need helping with?" You could imagine an eyeroll as your father said, always cutting to the chase.

"About Hydes." You spared no other detail and maintained calm articulation. Not that you needed to be careful with him, thankfully.

For more precaution, it's better if not even your own father knows about Tyler being in the house. You didn't want things to get out of hand.

"Ah- what about them? Did something happen that isn't supposed to–" Suddenly silence overtook the line, a thoughtful humming until he spoke again. "Don't get yourself into any unfamiliar territory, kid. That's suppose to be your mother's speciality."

So he noticed, of course he did. Better leave that to his wandering imagination than spoil your plan. A very non-existent plan at the moment.

"I don't plan to. Father, I was just curious since I kept hearing about them." True, that wasn't a lie in the slightest. "I was wondering if you'd know anything about them."

Surely he must know something.

"Hmm, you heard it from someone, no doubt. . . Alright, alright. What do you want to know exactly, kid. I'll tell ya as much as I can afford to." Sounds like mother has been keeping tabs on him.

"Hydes obey only one master, their own, correct?" You continued when father hummed a helpful tune, "would it be possible to sever the ties between a Hyde and its master."

A pause in-between your father's breathing left you suspended.

"Well. . . Got bad news for you kid, I don't know any available methods for that." He sighed gruffy like he felt bad, "sorry but can't help you with the whole severing business. It's set in stone, pretty much."

"I see. . . " You massaged your temples, disappoinment rising inside you. But you couldn't just accept this answer easily, stubbornness seemed to take hold in your heart. For what reason? You couldn't figure out.

"However–" A hoarse chuckle emerged from your cellphone. "It's not entirely impossible to say there aren't other ways of solving that problem. I'm sure you can get some creative ideas from their origins, kid. Only one thing is set in stone, Hydes only serve one master."

Father's bold hint sparked a lightbulb in your head. Their origins.

In the first place, what caused Hydes to bond an undying loyalty to their masters was–

"Sorry for not being alot of help, kid, I'm out of time for the day. Take good care of yourself, will you."

"I will." A buzz of excitement slowly crept over you as an idea began running through your mind. "You were very helpful, dad, thanks. You take care too."

"Mm sounds like you found an answer eh?" He sounded genuinely happy, making you feel much more sturdy in this new plan.

"Not exactly but I should be on the right track." If Tyler would go along with it.

"Mm so you're going to try any attempts, I see. Hah– it's hilarious how similar you and your mother's thinking is!"

Again with the comparisons. You rolled your eyes, "Goodbye, father."

"Alright alright, see ya kiddo. For now." BEEP. BEEP.

The call was over already.

.  .  .

You turned off the burner phone, picking out the block of battery from the back and saving it in your other hiding space for another time. Now you should check on Tyler, you can't afford to trust him so easily especially when his father's a sheriff. 

Quietly you went out of your bedroom, closing the door slowly so as to not make a sound. You headed down the stairs in a casual, fast pace to quickly see his state of mind.

But it's likely he isn't planning to screw himself over... Your assumption was most likely made correct when you came to see Tyler sitting slumped on the couch, his face buried deep in his hands. 

Sweeping your gaze across the living room and floor, the burner phone you gave him was nowhere in sight… Mentally noting to check the trash bin by the kitchen before you stomped down the stairs and made yourself known.

Tyler's eyes peeked up first from the gaps in-between his fingers like the leafy venus flytraps back home ever so often tempting you to closer inspect. To place your finger in there, to feed. 

He waited on your next move.

Your arms folded, hiding your hands twitching on their own for a tweezer. "Did you have a good talk?" 

What else could you really say without sounding too interested in him. 

"It was something…" Tyler did a small shrug, less energy than he's shown before, voice dulled by the cover of his fingers. "Could've gone better. I wish he didn't hang up so fast."

"What did you talk about?" Might as well see how much information he was willing to give.

A small sigh, Tyler slowly revealed half of his distraught face. "Not a lot. He wasn't interested in what I had to say… Told me to be careful." Strange of the dutiful sheriff to say but then again you didn't know what kind of father-son relationship they had.

"How are you feeling?" One of mother's favourite lines growing up that you've somehow adapted into your vocabulary. It seemed the most appropriate.

You continued watching Tyler's tensed form with a safe but short distance away, the coffee table acting as a possible shield in between you and him. Incase he raged.

But there was none.

There was something in his usual silence this time that irked you. Like he didn't fully trust you. 

You approved of that, as he shouldn't. Mutually. Especially if things ever go wrong because of him, you were ready at a moment's notice to abandon everything to do with him. 

"I… Hate him." 

The pause went on for however many tensed seconds before Tyler's hands fell onto his knees.

"Sorry sorry, I know I shouldn't be saying this… I mean I can't say I don't miss him." 

"You can say what you want. I don't mind," you said flatly, genuinely meaning it. His expressions stiff, he looked mentally pent up, thoughts practically steaming out from his ears.

"No, it's fine. You've done a lot for me already, I owe you." He grinned brightly, the dark cloud looming over from before gone in an instant, "for that phone call too."

"Sure," it wouldn't be bad to have a Hyde indebted to you.

Tyler checked the ticking clock on the kitchen wall, "I guess it is getting late… See you in the morning?"

You nodded. "Night, Galpin." 

"G-Good night! Have a good sleep." He smiled dopey, waving briskly while walking backwards to the foot of the stairs before jogging up to his bedroom. So naturally at home.

Just how eager was he to get back in his room?

 That wasn't his usual way of walking, what could he be looking forward to or hiding in there… Or he could just be relieved of stress after that talk with his father, maybe that brought about his new behavior.

Your suspicions were beginning to sound far-fetched even to yourself but then again, there was always that silver of possibility that he could be planning to rebel against you. 

So you moved fast towards the kitchen sink, tiny spikes of uneasiness pulsing through you, turning the facuet on and letting the water run loudly as you went to look into the trash bin.

Expecting to look down into a void of nothingness.

The large black plastic bag sleeved over the edge of the bin looked loose and puffy. Clearly you didn't do this, your meticulousness wouldn't allow such a lazy set up. You pat down the puffy areas, flattening the edges to allow better access in seeing what trash had been collected.

Shiny peices of black metal greet you at the bottom of the pit, tiny and almost powder-like glitter in the kitchen light. What previously used to be a burner phone now looked like the result of being in someone's clenched fist. Useful monsterous strength… if he could actually get it under his full control.

Whatever anxiety crept inside your heart disappeared as you contently spun on your heel and turned off the kitchen faucet. 

A small appreciation for Tyler as thanks to him, there's less work for you now.

You wondered why you even felt 'anxious' at all, it must've been the slight stress of knowing he could've screwed things up for you. And himself. Now that makes sense, of course since it's not as if you actually knew him personally even back in town. 

Feeling much more at peace, you headed towards your own bedroom, adjacent from Tyler's. His room barely made any noise except for the few inaudible mumbles and the faint use of his shower and the light peeking through from underneath his door. 

You never noticed before but he always had the lights turned on in there. Well, it's not as if you were the one paying the electrical bill. It was nothing noteworthy.

Once settling in your own bed and underneath your blanket in the cozy dark, sleep came easily… Until your brain jostled an interesting observation your very eyes must've slipped. 

In the trash bin, there was no sight of the small black piece. The memory card. 

The sim card. 

Despite his questionable actions, you chose to sleep, thoughts racing alongside a strange excitement building up in you. 

Oh what are you up to, Tyler Galpin.

Time was ticking. Neither on his or your side. He just didn't know it yet.

In the following morning you received a misscall from an unknown number. Father. He never contacts you first. There's nothing he needs that you could provide. It must be about the Hyde. 

Finally.

[itsbrittanybiitch]

Incorrect AATC Quotes 27

What's good, y'all?

Brittany: You're not my friend anymore. Alvin: I was your friend?

*******************************************************************

Theodore: I feel like Alvin is looking down on me. Simon: That’s because he's on the counter and you’re short.

*******************************************************************

Jeanette: If I fall down these stairs, I'm just going to lay down and accept my fate.

********************************************************************

Brittany: Stop thinking whatever you're thinking. Alvin: Huh? Brittany: You always make that face when you're about to say something stupid just to piss me off. So cut it out- Alvin: I love you. Brittany: Alvin: Alvin: Also, cereal qualifies as a soup. Brittany: I KNEW IT!!

********************************************************************

Simon: I dunno if I'm ready to process the ramifications of this bullshit.

********************************************************************

Alvin: Britt, I sense hostility. Brittany: Good, because I hate you.

********************************************************************

Jeanette: Do you have a second to talk about the environment? Cheesy: Do you have a second to eat my farts?

********************************************************************

Simon: Is that a gun?! Alvin: It's not what it looks like! Simon: It looks like a gun! Alvin: Okay, maybe it is what it looks like, but in my defense, it doesn't have anymore bullets, so I technically can't shoot it anymore. Simon: ...ANYMORE?!

*********************************************************************

Brittany: Alvin, I have a couple of words to say to you. Eleanor: Please let those two words be “I’m sorry.” Jeanette: I’m ready with the bleep button if not.

*********************************************************************

Theodore: A butterfly! Hey, little guy, gal or nonbinary pal! Eleanor: Can a butterfly be nonbinary? Theodore: I mean, maybe? I don't judge. Jeanette, staring dreamily out of the window: Ah, have you ever imagine having butterfly wings? Then- Brittany: Then it would be inconvenient as fuck. Your wings would smack every doorframe and your clothes would have to have holes in the back. Simon: Also, your wing's paper thin, so even a six year old aimed a NERF gun at it would... Yeah... Alvin: *sips coffee* According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way that a- Jeanette: No, nononono. You meaners have already shattered my dream, you don't get the privilege to make that reference :( Eleanor: Also, it's about a butterfly, not a bee... Why would you make that reference? Theodore: You clearly have not lived with him long enough.

[terrapin-might]

Since you drew the turtles as the Alvin and the Chipmunks, How about the 87 boys as the Scooby Doo gang?

Ah yes the TMNT otherwise known as the Teenage Mystery Noir(?) Turtles

I think this an adorable idea, a Scooby Doo AU would be perfect for the turtles, especially 87!

There were supposed to be other doodles but I've been cursed with "coloring-my-art-takes-too-long—itis" and also diagnosed with "I-must-color-this-drawing-or-it's not-done" syndrome. Luckily the second one only applies with digital art. So I'll reblog when I finish those later, it's mostly just memes tho

Anyway here's the Mystery Ninjas (and April!)

(please click for better quality)

I was supposed to post this yesterday but as I said I'm very bad at posting 😞

Thanks for the ask! I'm still taking requests right now if you guys have any ideas but clearly it will take me a while to get to them. I still appreciate them and I will get to them though that is a promise.

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Hank, Trudy, Alvin Oneshot

Based on this post from @andgry4

<3

Synopsis: In the show, Al says that he got shot the day he found out Meredith was pregnant with Lexi. This is that story.

Al woke up that morning to Meredith rushing from bed and into the bathroom. He barely paid it any mind, drifting back to slew before he heard her vomit. He was up in a heartbeat, practically running into the bathroom with her. “Hey, Mer, you okay?” He knelt beside her and held her hair back. “Come on, it’s alright, let it out.” He rubbed her back with his free hand as she gagged a few more times.

“Ah, I don’t know what came over me…” she mumbled as she leaned into her husband.

Al moved a hand up to feel her head. “I don’t think you have a fever. Maybe take today to rest.”

Meredith sighed, but could barely argue. Throwing up was her least favorite symptom.

Al helped her up and back into bed, kissing her forehead. “Alright. I’m gonna take a shower and get ready for work. I’ll check back on you in a little bit, huh?”

Meredith nodded, lying in bed and closing her eyes. Al moved out of the bedroom silently and into the bathroom, then showered. He was worried about his wife, considering she’d felt fine the day before, but figured it was just a big she caught at the store or something. He finished his shower, silently pondering everything. His mind was racing but his exterior was silent and calm. After getting his pants and tshirt on, he pulled on his uniform shirt, walking over to check on Meredith again. She had gone back to sleep, so he leaned down and kissed her temple, feeling her head with his hand again. She didn’t seem to have a fever, so he thought maybe she just ate something bad the night before.

Walking downstairs, he buttoned his uniform shirt and tucked it in, then tied his tie and put on the rest of the little accessories that went on his shirt. He didn’t usually dress himself at home, but seeing as the uniform had been washed the previous night, he decided to simply wear it to work, especially since he had been up earlier than his alarm. He got himself some coffee and read the paper, sipping the coffee slowly.

When the time came for him to leave, he moved through the house with his duffel bag, locking the door behind him as he left. He left for the district, looking back at the house, hoping Meredith would be alright. The last year had been so hard on her, between a miscarriage and dwindled hopes of getting pregnant, she had been in the dumps. The doctors didn’t help, either, always trying to give her some “miracle solution.” Al had hated it just as much as she had.

.

Arriving inside the locker room, he stuffed his duffel bag in his locker and closed it, shaking his head at Hank as he greeted him. “Hey, Al, how’s it going?”

“Well, Meredith woke up sick,” Al replied with a hike of his shoulders. “Threw up and then went back to sleep.”

Hank nodded a little, looking at Alvin. “She got a fever?”

“No, I checked. I can’t think of anything she ate that might’ve been bad, either. I’m wondering if it’s just all the stress from the doctors and tabloids.” Al grabbed the orange and banana from the top of his locker, peeling the banana as he sat on the bench.

“Could be,” Hank replied as he sat beside Al. Despite being in gangs, Hank still often spent the mornings with Al in the locker room, for this very reason. They were best friends. “Maybe see if you can stop by on your lunch. It’s not too far off your beat, is it?”

Al shrugged. “I guess not. I’ll talk to Trudy.”

“Talk to me about what?” Trudy’s voice rang from the other side of the lockers as she set down her duffel bag, peeking around the side. When she saw the two of them, she frowned a little, knowing Al was in more distress than he was letting on. “What’s the matter?”

“Meredith is sick,” Hank said, knowing Al wouldn’t let on. “She threw up this morning, but no fever and Al can’t think of anything bad she might’ve eaten.”

Trudy leaned against the lockers, crossing her arms. “Well,” she said softly, humming. “Sometimes the stomach bug doesn’t come with a fever. Could be she’s just sick.”

“Do you think it could be caused by stress?” Hank asked, looking up at Trudy. Al had since gone silent, so he knew he should talk on his behalf. “Al said she’d been stressed about the doctors.”

“Does she sleep alright?” Trudy replied, looking at Al now.

Al hiked his shoulders once again with a small sigh. “I guess, but I don’t know. She woke me up when she got up so suddenly. I guess she could’ve been awake.”

Trudy and Hank exchanged a glance before Trudy moved to the other side to get changed. “Well, I doubt it’s anything serious. Meredith is a big girl. She’ll be able to handle it. You know she’s strong, Al.”

“Yeah,” Al muttered.

.

Al spent the morning in the car with Trudy, silence overtaking them. Al was stuck in his mind, not realizing how much time had gone by until Trudy finally broke the silence. “Hey, where do you want to get lunch?”

Al looked over at her. “You mean, you want my suggestion then you tell me what you want and we go there instead.”

“Come on, Al we go places you want to.”

Al scoffed softly. “Only when I’m driving.”

“Well, did you want to drive?” Trudy asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No,” Al replied, looking back out the window. “Not today.”

Trudy sighed, then grabbed the radio. “16-30 Squad, hold us down for a personal.”

“16-30 squad on a personal,” dispatch replied.

“What are you doing? It’s only eleven. You skip breakfast?” Al said, looking back at Trudy.

“Shut up,” she replied, driving them out into the suburbs, just off their beat. She pulled over in front of Al’s house. “Go on, go see her. Unless you want me to go first. That’ll be awkward.”

“No, no, I got it,” Al replied, getting out of the car quickly. He walked up his front steps, then opened the door, which had since been unlocked. “Meredith? You here?”

She came from the other room, around the corner, tears in her eyes. She gasped and put her free hand over her mouth when she saw him.

“Meredith?” Al moved forward toward her. “What’s going on?”

“Alvin,” she whispered, tears streaking down her cheeks. As Al moved forward to catch her in his arms, she opened her free hand, putting the object in his. When he looked down at it, he found a pregnancy test, with a positive result. “I’m pregnant.”

Al could hardly believe his eyes. He looked at the test closer, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating as he held Meredith with his free hand, her head on his chest. She was crying with relief and happiness. “How far, do you think?”

“It’s been five weeks since my last period,” she said softly. “I just thought I was still messed up from coming off those meds. But the morning sickness, and then I felt fine… I got my hopes up and look.”

Al kissed the top of her head, still gazing at the test. All of his worries had left him, and for a moment he forgot where he was or what he was doing. All he could think of was the small human that would be growing inside his beautiful wife. Despite the last miscarriage, they both had hope.

Al embraced Meredith, holding her tightly, yet gently. “I love you,” he mumbled into her hair.

“I love you too, Al,” she replied, voice barely above a whisper.

A knock came to their door, pulling the two back into reality. Al turned around as the door opened, finding Trudy waving him down. “Hey, Hank called us to a scene. Needs us.”

Al looked back at Meredith, kissing her cheek. “I’ve got to go. See you later.”

Meredith nodded and then Al walked out with Trudy, who gave her regards to Meredith before leaving. Al had still been holding the test, not realizing it until he got into the car, looking at it for a short moment before shoving it in his pocket before Trudy could see. Meredith was only five weeks, so he didn’t want to get anybody else’s hopes up until they were sure.

Al and Trudy got to the scene, Hank and some other guys from the Gang Unit there. There were also multiple other officers. The two left their car, finding a crime scene where a small boy had been shot. He couldn’t have been more than thirteen. Al nearly got sick to his stomach, his hands shoved into his pockets, one hand gripping the pregnancy test. He didn’t typically get upset over bodies, but knowing Meredith was pregnant caused a lot of inner turmoil.

Hank looked up at them from where he was crouching. “Good, you’re here,” he said, standing and walking with them. “Gang hit on a kid. I need the two of you to go door-to-door and see what you can find out.”

“Hank, anyone can do that,” Trudy said as she pulled him and Al aside. “Why us?”

Hank sighed and looked at the two of them, lowering his voice. “Look, I’ve been tracking this gang for a while. This kid wasn’t part of it. He’s innocent. My sergeant and I don’t want this to get lost in robbery-homicide, so we’re treating it like a gang hit. That’s what I’m thinking it is anyway, but I need the two of you to confirm. I know I can trust you.”

“Yeah, we gotcha, let’s go,” Al said with a nod, just happy to get away from the lifeless child on the ground.

-

Hours went by, and their shift ended. Trudy had to head home due to a dinner date with her father, but Al couldn’t leave this unsolved, despite wanting to go home and be with Meredith. The child’s name was Andre, and they’d found evidence that it had indeed been a gang hit. Besides, as much as he liked Trudy, Al missed being partnered with Hank.

Hank’s partner had also gone for the night, leaving Al and Hank in his car alone. Al looked at Hank as he drove. “Meredith is alright. I saw her at lunchtime.”

“That’s good,” Hank replied, smiling at Al. “I miss this, you know? Working a case with you. You ever think about moving into another unit?”

Al shrugged. “Maybe Org Crime,” he replied. “I don’t know yet. Gotta work some things out first.”

“Well, if you ever do end up getting to start a family, Al, one way or another, it’s better pay.”

“Longer hours,” Al refuted. “Look at us, it’s nearly nine o’clock.”

Hank shrugged. “Better pay. Making a difference for the safety of the city.”

“I guess,” Al replied. “I’ll think about it.” Silence fell on them, both tired from the long day, but they were close to finding out who had shot the boy, and they didn’t want anyone else getting hurt.

Suddenly, a car came out of nowhere, nearly hitting them. Hank slammed on the brakes to avoid the accident, breathing heavily. “What the hell?!”

“Hank,” Al replied. “Damn it!”

“What?” Hank caught Al’s gaze in the rear view mirror, seeing a man with a gun running up to the back window. “Shit!”

The two of them ducked as best as they could in their seats. When the barrage of bullets stopped, they looked at one another, each giving a silent nod, then moved quickly from the car. The shooter had abandoned the gun and started to run down an alleyway. Al, being closer, chased him directly. “Hey!”

Hank moved with Al, but broke off to try and flank the guy. Al ran faster to catch him, but when he was faced with a fence, the guy, looked like only a kid, turned to Al with a pistol. “He deserved to die!”

Al put his hands up. “Hey, hey, listen, it’s okay, just put the gun down. I just want to talk.”

“You deserve to die too!” Then, the kid shot once. At first, everything stopped. Al’s ears started to ring, the sounds of the city muffled by the sound of the gunshot. Then, he noticed he could feel the blood pumping through his veins. It was fast, but somehow, it felt like it wasn’t enough. He could feel his blood pressure bottoming out as the blood spilled through the hole in his chest, soaking his light blue uniform.

The pain was next, the searing, burning pain of the bullet piercing his flesh and lodging itself inside him somewhere. He couldn’t get a breath, his knees buckling as the blood rushed to his chest. The world seemed to begin spinning, even as he finally hit the ground, not to mention the spots in his vision. He blinked slowly, once, opening his eyes again, only to realize it was a cumbersome effort. The world was blurry from the tears that flooded his eyes, so he simply closed them again, listening to the pounding and ringing in his ears.

Next time Al opened his eyes, he could see Hank’s figure and hear his distinct voice calling for help on the radio. He was too weak to stay awake.

Al could hear the sirens, Hank begging him to stay alive, holding his hand. He reached into his pocket with the opposite hand. He had something to fight for. The test. He gripped it as if he were gripping to life itself. Truthfully, he was, in a way. He blacked out again.

The next time he opened his eyes, he could see the fluorescent lights of the hospital going by above him, one by one. He still had Hank’s hand on one side, the test in the other. He groaned, knowing they’d just throw the test away if he went to surgery with it. Using all his strength, he moved his hand over to Hank’s putting the test in his hand. “Hey, man… keep this… safe…”

“What? Al, what is this?” Hank looked down at their hands, then back to Al.

“Mer’s pregnant… You’re gonna… be an uncle… Take care… of them…” he mumbled before the two were separated and Al was taken into surgery.

Hank couldn’t believe it. If Al hadn’t given him the test, he would’ve never thought it was true. He looked down at the positive test, taking in a sharp breath, his internal panic spiking. “Damn it, Al,” he whispered before grabbing his flip phone and dialing Trudy’s number.

After multiple rings, she finally picked up. “Hello?” Trudy said into the receiver.

“Trudy, Al’s been shot. I need you here.”

“What?” Trudy frowned. “Did you call Meredith?”

“Not yet. Trudy, Al said she’s pregnant.”

“Hank, he probably wasn’t all there. I hate to say it, but he might’ve been delusional. Wishful thinking.”

Hank looked at the pregnancy test in his hand. “No, Trudy. Damn it, he’s not delusional. I have a physical piece of evidence in my hand.”

“A… what? A piece of evidence in your hand?”

“Yes.”

Trudy was silent for a moment, before gasping. “A test?!”

“A positive one. Al gave it to me before he was taken in.”

“I’m on my way, but you need to call Meredith.”

Hank frowned. “Trudy, I can’t cause her this stress, especially if she’s pregnant. I don’t want her to-“

“If it were you, Al and I would be calling Camille. Wouldn’t you want that?”

Hank sighed deeply. “Alright, I’ll call her.”

“Never mind, I’m in the area. I’ll stop by and pick her up.”

-

Hank sat in the waiting room, staring at the test and replaying everything in his mind.

I’m going to be an uncle? I just became a father myself. Granted, it’s been five years, but still. Mer’s pregnant? Finally. I’m happy for them. But, dammit Al, you had to go and get shot? If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let you go down that alley. I would’ve made you flank. Damn it, Alvin. Damn it!

When Trudy arrived with Meredith, she found Hank in the waiting room, seemingly lost in his own world as he held the pregnancy test, staring down at it. Trudy gently tapped his shoulder, pulling him from his inner monologue. “Hey,” she said softly. “No news?”

“Uh, no,” he replied, clearing his throat. He gazed over to Meredith, handing the pregnancy test back to her. “Congratulations.”

Meredith nodded, taking the test and gripping it in her hand as she hugged Hank, needing comfort. Tear stains were already apparent on her face, but she began to cry again as Hank held her. “Al took this today, I don’t think he even realized… he left so fast earlier…”

“Yeah,” Hank said softly. “It’ll be alright. Al’s strong. It’s something to fight for.”

The three of them sat down, Hank and Trudy on either side of Meredith, exchanging a look.

-

Several hours later, Meredith was asleep on Trudy’s shoulder, the test still in her hands. When one of the doctors came out, Hank stood and walked a bit away, as to not disturb Meredith. “How is he?”

“He’s going to be alright. One lucky son of a bitch, too. Bullet didn’t hit anything too major.”

Hank let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Can we see him?”

The doctor looked over to the two women sitting in the chairs, then back to Hank with a nod. “One at a time, alright? He should be coming off the anesthesia in a few minutes.”

Hank nodded. “Thanks doc.” He walked over to the two, nodding to Trudy. He crouched in front of Meredith’s chair. “Hey, Meredith?” He gently took her hand, rubbing her arm to wake her. “Hey, Al’s out of surgery. Doc said you can see him.”

Meredith perked up as she realized what Hank said. “Thanks,” she said softly, getting up and quickly finding Al’s room.

Hank sighed and sat back down in Meredith’s place, looking at Trudy. “Doc said bullet didn’t hit anything major. He’ll be fine.”

“That’s good.” Trudy replied, a hand on Hank’s shoulder. “Need anything?”

“The kid who did this. He was just a kid. Fifteen, probably. He said Al deserved to die. Took a few shots at me, too, but ran off. I had to get Al first.”

“You did the right thing, Hank. Don’t worry about it. You’ll find the kid. These kids in the gangs, they’re practically indoctrinated by their older brothers or fathers. It’s not completely their fault.”

“I know. Why do you think I took this assignment, Trudy? I care about them like I care about Justin.”

“I know, Hank,” she replied with a nod. “I know.”

.

After about an hour, Meredith finally came out, Trudy and Hank standing. “Al asked that… I go home to get some rest.”

“I’ll take you,” Trudy said with a nod. “Come on, let’s get you home.” She moved to help Meredith outside, the woman feeling better but obviously still a mess.

Hank took the chance to stay, walking to Al’s room and knocking softly on the doorframe. “Hey,” he said softly, walking over and sitting beside him.

“Hey, man,” Al replied, offering a weak smile. “Sorry to spring all this on you.”

Hank scoffed and shook his head, taking Al’s hand. “Are you kidding me? Al.”

Al shrugged. “If I knew I was gonna survive, I wouldn’t have bothered you with it.”

Hank scoffed again, rolling his eyes a little. “Don’t even say that.” He shook his head, squeezing Al’s hand. “Come on, man.”

Al laughed a little, then used his free hand to grab something from the table stand over his bed. “Look. Doc gave me the bullet.”

Hank took the crushed bullet, smiling. “Look at that. You should put it on a chain.”

“I will,” Al replied. “So that I can remember who I’m fighting for.” He picked up the pregnancy test Meredith had left with him. “For them, whoever they might end up being.”

Hank smiled, setting the bullet back on the table. “Good. Now, you should rest. I’ll be here for you.”

Al hummed as he set the test back on the table beside the bullet. “Hank, you should go home to Camille and Justin.”

“They’re probably already asleep. No problem. I’ll call her in the morning.”

“Hank,” Al said, looking at his best friend knowingly. “I know you won’t rest if you’re here. I’m alright. Go on.”

Hank sighed. Al was right, he wouldn’t get any rest if he stayed. Just seeing the IV in Al’s arm made him shiver, let alone the beeping of the heart monitor. It shook him to his core. “Last time I sat beside someone hooked up to all these things, I lost them…”

“I know,” Al replied. “That’s why you need to go home. I’ll be alright. The doctor said it didn’t hit anything major. I’ll be out in a few days.”

Hank looked up at his best friend, nodding slowly. He stood patting Al’s upper arm, then slowly moved from the room. “Get some rest, Al.”

“You too, Hank.”

[utdrmv-confession-box]

Transcript: ah nevermind on that alvin post he IS gersons son it was in a missable dialogue from chapter 1 where he ask if gerson would be proud of him. i probably missed it like i did the onionsan thing lol. further proof for the knight alvin theory tho. wonder if this means gerson is a boss monster since in ut hes really old so alvin probably died which stopped him from ageing like asgore and toriel :(

[Mod note: This is referring to a previous confession anon submitted here]

[deadsetobsessions]

Okay, so maybe Tim has no business being in Bludhaven. Tim maintains that since his parents fail at parenting, he can do whatever he wants.

Besides, it's for a good cause. Like, not letting Tarantula get her dirty hands on his big brother in another time line. Tarantula had popped up in the Bludhaven servers - by that, Tim means the endless amounts of threads and underground fronts for criminal activity that he stalks on a regular basis- by being seen with Nightwing. Tim had immediately booked a ride to Bludhaven and bought another burner. He'd try to take care of her himself, but if worse comes to worse, he'd call Deathstroke. He's totally aware of the weird tension Deathstroke has with Nightwing and Tim's kind of banking on that.

Dick's been back in Blud for two months now, Jason having assuaged his mother hen tendencies enough for Dick to get sick of the Manor. Tim hadn't meant to follow since he had plenty of projects to work on now that "SAVE JASON" wasn't blaring at the top of his head.

But then Tarantula appeared and Tim saw red, remembering the way Dick spoke about her and what she did to him.

He bids the driver goodbye. The driver doesn't question his being on his lonesome mainly because 1) Gothamites mind their own busines, 2) Tim gave him a $500 tip to make sure he remains a "good" Gothamite cabbie, and 3) Tim made sure he was dropped off in the swankiest, most ostentatious hotel Bludhaven had to offer.

"Rich people," the cab driver had muttered as Tim closed the door. Perfect.

Tim got his keycard, having checked in under Alvin Draper over the phone. Normally, they'd require an in person visit, but money talks. And people listened when Tim had a lot of things to say.

Tim even feels like he's trained enough to go out! Lady Shiva's training was ingrained into his memory, and Tim's built enough muscle to make use of some of it. He is still nine, after all. He's so much stealthier this time around. Plus, he's got almost his full tool set back. Sure, some of the tech is ancient, but he managed to finagle it to make grappling guns and smoke pellets more along the quality that he's used to.

Tim waits until nightfall, looping the surveillance around his window to mask his exit. Tim adjusts his domino, eyes scanning the city skyline as his handheld computer (god, he can't believe he has to invent wrist computers) tracked reports of Nightwing through Tweetings.

Ah. He's around Seventh. Tim grimaces as his untested joints adjusts to the grappling guns. His dark clothes make him hard to spot, to his advantage as he tracks down Nightwing.

Tim watches, perched on an adjacent roof as Nightwing takes down a crowd of goons with the flips Tim remembered watching from afar and up close in another timeline.

"Blockbuster'll kill everyone you love, Nightwing!"

Tim winces at the rather brutal crunch that followed, Nightwing having punched the guy and knocked him out in one move. He watches Dick sigh, tugging at his hair in stress.

Tim could... no, no. He shouldn't think of murder as a first option. Well, no, he shouldn't think of Deathstroke as a first option. But he'll need to take Blockbuster out before anything happens. And he needs to threaten the new Tarantula before anything happens. He won't allow her to even get close to Dick.

Maybe it's unfair to punish her for a crime she hasn't done, but unlike murder, rape can never be defended. Catalina Flores is a dead woman walking.

Tim stalks his big brother back home and then broke off to begin his short reign of terror over Bludhaven's underground. If he can't get Dick to take a break (and Tim's tried, a lot, over the years) then he'll make sure that the next month is as gentle as possible on his older brother.

Step 1. Murder Take care of Blockbuster

Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.

No. Wait. Tim has a better idea. He's got dirt on them, on top of the murder thing. He'll fabricate Catalina's tax returns, embezzle a shit ton of money from the IRS, and get her and her corrupt brother (because getting your sister out from murder charges is considered corrupt) arrested and locked away. And he'll make sure they stay locked away with some good old blackmail on Amanda Waller.

Tim grins, tranquilizing the building with an ungodly amount of knock out gas pellets, to riffle through the police precinct's files.

Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.

Step 2. Cripple Catalina Flores and her brother with blackmail and the IRS.

In three hours, Tim has everything he needs to begin a temporary hostile takeover. He's got the names of local mob bosses, the big players, and the names of practically every police officer that takes bribes and their... sponsors.

He'll have to cut off Blockbuster's lines of supplies first. Then, blacklist him from local suppliers, mobilize the police precinct against him (by imitating his M.O. perfectly- Tim's not a fucking amateur- and pretending to rob the precinct blind), and then break his knees.

Step 3. Profit

Tim takes out his shiny new burner phone, enjoying the loud sounds of the police squawking through his planted bugs. He lounges on the building next to it, keeping an eye out for Nightwing just in case the man decides to respond to the crisis.

[Unknown: It's RR.]

[Deathstroke: New phone?]

[RR: Who dis?]

[Deathstroke: What?]

[RR: Nevermind. I'll give you forty thousand to shoot someone's knees out.]

[Deathstroke:... That's it? Who?]

[RR: Blockbuster. Bludhaven. Extra twenty thousand if you tell him he's got the spine of a sea slug, kick him in the balls, and post it on Tweeting.]

[Deathstroke: What did he do to you? Deal.]

Tim ignored Deathstroke's question.

[RR: Half sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Timeline?]

[RR: Three weeks. 21 days.]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed.]

----

Tim grins ferally, all teeth as Catalina Flores looked on in horror at her computer screen.

"Get out of Bludhaven, and don't come back. If you even think of going near Nightwing, I will rip what's left of your pathetic, sniveling swine of a brother apart. You will not enjoy the consequences."

Tim clicks off, watching Catalina and her brother launch themselves into mad packing. He tapped out a short message to Amanda Waller for her and her team to intercept them at the state lines. They'll never get away from Tim's fury. Never.

[Waller: It's done.]

[Waller: I will find you.]

[RR: You can definitely try, Waller. Good doing business with you.]

Tim can see the blood vessel the woman popped after he sent that last message. He laughs.

He saves Deathstroke's video from Tweeting onto his actual, spoofed phone. He destroys the burner phone, less shiny now that he's dragged it through two and a half weeks of breaking heads and terrorizing the Bludhaven Underground. Nightwing hadn't even gotten a whiff of his activities, this Dick being far less experienced and known in this version of Blud.

One more week and Tim can continue his other projects.

----

Nightwing, going about his vigilante business: wow it sure is peaceful

Feral Tim Drake, Nightwing's scary dog privilege: try me, bitch

[nicktremblaywayfu]

What Hunter think about Franco? Did he like him?

" Lupara !"

"Ah, quite loud for a small man. But his strength is impressive, he will make a good small to medium-sized game hunter. This new kid on the block, he was a bit hard to charm. Yet Mr. Robbertson never fails to persuade anyone, whether men or women. He allowed me to touch his Lupara, an honor that nobody has here but The Hunter himself. It was heavier than it looked, but not as heavy as a regular shotgun. The way he saw it may have been a little bit too short. But it was as deadly as another firearm. I tried to shoot a wild dog in the facility, and I killed it within a second. A merciful death, a speed fun sport. Tempting, I'm thinking that maybe, I could enchant him to make him lend that lupara of his for one of my hunting dogs. Although, I'm afraid a fast death on my prey would bore me fast. I want my hunting game to die in beautiful, elegant way without damaging the skin. A gun, as tempting as it is, I still prefer my dogs and my simple knife. Overall, I could see why a little bird told me he was popular with the women back then. So long he won't trespass my ground and my league, he's out of my hunting list."

Bonus Hunter and Franco headcanon :

Hunter managed to charm Franco and made him trust his gun to Hunter. He did it by telling him his hunting story as well as all the trophies he get. He also compliments Franco's suit and hair, telling him he has a high taste of fashion. This boosts Franco's ego especially he has insecurity with how he looks, and the fact Hunter also wear a suit adding bonus points to their relationship.

Franco loved dogs, but never got the chance to get one. He never pity any animals except dogs. So when Hunter showed his Hunting Dogs and let him play with them, Franco immediately thought Hunter was a fun guy who could be trusted since he trusted him with his pets.

Franco thought Hunter's most loyal guard (Alvin) was a weird man.

At first, Franco wanted to laugh at Hunter's makeup and call him "Nancy". But after Hunter showed his strength and his aura, Franco was lowkey intimidated and wished his dad would also taught him on hunting animals too.

Sometimes, Hunter's narcissistic personality got in the way when Reagents swooned on Franco over him. He would attack the little man and hit him in the face. This of course caused a fight. But things cool down fast, and none of them take it as hard feelings for some reason.

Franco sometimes wished Hunter was a woman instead. He admitted Hunter had some beauties in his masculinity, especially with his makeup style.